Broken- DreamNotFound/ Gream

Chapter. 14

Day: 7

Life Count: 195

Dream:

Someone was breathing in his ear.

His eyes fluttered open to a warm body curled around him, their arms wrapped protectively around him, shielding him from the horrors of the world. He wished he could stay here, his eyes closed, his hair ruffled by small huffy snores, his breath unobscured by a mask.

Wait.

He sat up with a jolt, disturbing the person he was sleeping on and making them grumble sleepily as Dream touched his face, his fingers meeting skin instead of plastic. He felt fear shoot through him as the person laying next to him blearily rubbed sleep out of their eyes and looked around.

"Dream?"

"G-George, don't look at me for just one s-second, please." Dream covered his face with his hands, peeking only from out of his fingertips until George had turned away.

He breathed a sigh of relief as he saw his mask, laying a little ways away, and he took it up in his hands, his hands thankful to meet the smooth plastic surface again. Dream tied the mask around his head again, his vision narrowing as he glanced back at the room, so relived to have the smiley-face covering his features once more.

"Wuzzhappinin?" George's morning voice echoed through the room as he sat, still facing away from Dream. "Can I turn around now?"

"Y-yeah." God he still had that stupid studder, his voice still raspy, his throat still hurting from ash, smoke, screaming, getting choked by Wilbur, just his everyday life now. "I-I... did you take off my mask?"

"No, I fell asleep when you did, and I didn't wake up until you got up." George looked slightly confused he turned back to Dream. "Did you lose your mask?"

"Yeah. I-it was off when I w-woke up." He felt the panic fade, hearing the genuine truth in his friend's voice as he walked over and sat down next to George. "I-I don't know what happened. I must have knocked it off or something."

"Well, you have it back now." George reached over and pulled a roll of bandages from a small stone alcove and gave it to Dream. "Here, you should probably change your bandages."

Dream gave a nod of thanks, glancing down at his bloodstained t shirt, the white smiley-face pattern covered with red. The bandages underneath were a mess, soaked in blood, drying at the edges, making Dream hiss in pain as he unwrapped them, ripping a small amount of skin from the already severe wound.

"What did you do to manage this?" George asked his friend as he handed him a jar of salve. "It looks like someone just straight up stabbed you."

"T-they did." Dream's hands shook as he wrapped the bandages around his gaping wound. "I was k-kind of stabbed by W-Wilbur when he was t-torturing me right before the b-bodies were found."

"Wait, what?" George did a double take, his mouth hanging open slightly as he glanced over at his friend. "He did what to you?"

"He t-tortured me." Dream gestured to his bloody body, riddled with scars, cuts and bruises. "H-how do you t-think I got these, by f-falling down s-stairs?"

"I'm going to murder him." Dream had never seen George this mad before, his lips a thin line, his eyebrows furrowed. "I'm going to send him to hell where he belongs."

"No." Dream put his trembling hand comfortingly on top of George's palm, and smiled faintly. "H-he's just trying to s-survive the g-game like the r-rest of us. It's okay. I'm f-f-fine."

"No your not!" George interlaced his fingers with Dream's, feeling the small tremors running through the blond haired boy. "Dream, I know your lying. I can feel you shaking, I can hear it in your voice, I can see it on your face. You're not fine."