Dream Team one shots

A Good Try

"Good try George. You almost got me as well." Dream smiled. Unlike what George has seen throughout almost the entirety of this twisted game to mock them, the smile he gave off was genuine and soft, as if he was proud or hesitant.
"Dream please! It doesn't have to end like this!!" George sat at half a heart, he didn't have any other options than to plead for his life. "We can still-"
Dream pressed the blade closer to his throat which made his breath hitch. "Shut up." He growled. "I don't want to hear anything out of you. Not a whimper, not beg for mercy, ANYTHING." He snapped. "So much as breath the wrong way and I'll slit your throat." The man standing before George was not the kind hearted goofy man that he once knew. He had an entirely different aura. He was out for blood. "I should honestly put you out of your misery. Neither Bad nor Sap will get here in time to save you pathetic life." He sneered. "But if I leave you here, you'll either bleed out or be scorched, which ever comes first." He said. "And trust me, this is MERCIFUL compared to what you three have put me through for the past 4 YEARS."
George looked down. He knew everything the masked man was saying was true. He didn't have anything to defend himself, didn't have any excuses. He had no way out. He sighed, looking up at Dream. "Then do it." He said as tears started to well up in his eyes. He looked down. "I've had this coming for a while now any way." He chocked out. "B-But please..with the others.." he whimpered, returning his gaze to him. "Be kind..have mercy.." he pleaded. "I dragged them into this mess int he first place..so please..." he felt a tear run down his cheek. "At least make their deaths-" he paused, coughing. He found it harder and harder to breathe as the harsh conditions of the Nether started to over take him. "Q-Quick..and painless.."
This seemed to throw Dream off. He looked down, sudden wave of regret and self doubt washed over him. The dark figure of a man that had taken everything from him started to crack. He wasn't looking at a man who's blood he's yearned to see spilled for years, it was a friend. A friend he had lost. He suddenly started to question himself. Did he want to do this? Why was he? 'No. I have to finish this..' he thought. 'This guilt will never leave unless I do.' He lifted his sword above his head. He trembled a bit, his lip quivered. With a deep, shaky breath and a yell, he plunged the blade into his armor and into Georges chest.
George yelled as pain issued. A few more tears fall before his eyelids fell heavy, letting his body give into the yearning desire to succumb to the sweet embrace of eternal rest.
Dream watched as the man let go of his last breath. He instantly felt hit him like a freight train. Instead of feeling the euphoric energy he was hoping, the deep feeling of regret only grew heavier. He killed him. He's really dead. Clay dropped his blade and fell to his knees, sobbing.
"I'm so sorry.."