Chapter Twenty One|Flight

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Dream groaned, cracking his back as he sat up, the sound low key terrifying with how loud it was.

He had woken up on the couch alone with the smell of eggs and bacon in the air, and Dream already knew from that one thing that Bad was the first awake.

He winced as his head and shoulders throbbed from the strange sleeping position, and he was relieved to remember that they kept their medicine cabinet downstairs.

He stood up, Bad cutting his own enthusiastic 'good morning!' off halfway through when he saw Dream's expression, instead glancing at him sympathetically before he flipped some bacon.

Dream took some Advil, rubbing his temples a bit as he leaned against the counter, teeth clenched.

"Headache?" Bad asked quietly. Dream nodded, and he didn't notice Bad pouring anything until a cup of warm chamomile tea was placed into his hands.

He looked up at Bad like he was his saving grace, and the boy just smiled at him. Dream had the sudden urge to cry, but he decided to push it away as he sipped his tea silently, headache so bad he wouldn't wish it upon anyone.

---

George's head was absolutely killing him.

He whined silently as his head throbbed. The painkillers had worn off two hours into this nine-hour flight. George didn't bring any onto the plane with him, and he felt like this headache would probably torture him the whole way through. An hour has passed since the Advil wore off, and George was suffering.

So now, his head hurt, his body ached from sitting still, and he was hungry, Because he didn't eat lunch before he left to catch his plane.

George had boarded at noon in his time, which was six am in Dreams time. He had eaten breakfast but didn't think about how hungry he'd be on the plane, and he still had six hours left to feel sorry for himself.

In his time, he would have gotten to the Dream House by nine PM, but that would be just three PM in Dreams time.

So while he was used to staying up until five AM, that meant he would be sleeping at a normal human time, aka eleven PM. It's like manually fixing your sleep schedule.

George smiled to himself through the pain, thinking about how he would almost one hundred percent be sleeping before the other tenants of the Dream House.

But that smile faded away as he remembered he would still be waiting for his things to come, which was rescheduled to happen a week from now.

George wondered where he would be sleeping. Probably a couch if no one brought an air mattress. Or, even better, he could steal one of the other boy's beds.

He thought about the multiple times in Minecraft Manhunt when Dream broke his bed, grinning at the thought of getting revenge from him.

He looked out the window, his mind wandering far from where he was. He didn't realize he was drifting into sleep until he was passed out, snoring softly.

---

Someone was poking him. George slowly sat up, remembering that he was on a plane as he did, and his stomach growled excessively loud.

"Are you George Not Found??" Someone asked. He tiredly looked around before his eyes met with a kid who looked to be around ten.

"Yes..?" He half told half asked, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes so he could actually greet a fan the right way.

"That's so awesome! I'm Alex!" The boy said, grinning, and George thought he was a little young to have braces.

"Nice to meet you, Alex," George said, smiling and offering a hand to shake. He recognized the boy as one of the kids from the front of the plane, and he had apparently decided to take advantage of the empty seat next to George.

He realized that his face mask had slipped off in his sleep and he pulled it up again, his cheeks tinting pink.

Alex shook his hand, ecstatic to be meeting a streamer. George was pleasantly surprised too, happy to meet a fan.

"Are you going to visit Sapnap!?" Alex asked, apparently connecting the dots that George was going to Texas, where Sapnap lived.

"Yeah, I guess you could say that. Are you going to see anyone?" He asked, and the boy's expression got a bit sad.

"My granny passed away. I'm going to her funeral, and I'm gonna stay with my grandad for a little while." He said, and George gave him an 'Im sorry for your loss' and rubbed circles on his back for an awkward moment.

"I have a question." Alex suddenly asked the other male, curiosity painted on his expression.

"Hm? What is it?" George asked, his own curiosity piqued by the freckled boy.

"Does Dream act differently outside of social media? I've heard some streamers do." He asked, and George had to think about that.

He thought about all the times Dream begged him to stay and chat after a stream or a video.

He thought about the times when Dream was sleepy or sleep-deprived and he confessed that he wanted to know what it was like to hug George.

He thought about the few times Dream had called him, panicking because of some small problem, George being the first person he thought to call.

"Yeah. He's nicer outside of videos, more chill." He answered honestly, a smile spreading across his face.

Alex gave him a knowing look, which confused the hell out of George because he didn't know what it was he said to get a look like that from a fan.

"Sounds cool, thanks for letting me know. Also, can I get a selfie?" He said, and George, without thinking too hard about it, said yes, posing with the boy.

---

George climbed out of the Uber, his bones cracking loudly, and he groaned a bit before his jaw dropped.

The place was huge. He grinned as he pulled his suitcase out of the car, tipping the driver and rolling up to the door happily.

He rang the doorbell and waited for a moment.

A dirty blonde man with a bright smile opened the door, towering over George and laughing at something, wearing Dream's merch, and George finally connected the dots when his expressive, yellowish eyes met his own.

Clay's eyes widened, and George's did too, and then the cup in Clay's hand slipped out of his hold.

The sound of shattering porcelain filled the silence.

First chapter of the day.

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