Chapter Text
It’s quieter than Dream thought it would be. Everything is quiet now. No one yells at him when he doesn’t put his shoes away or forgets to take out the trash. He doesn’t lay in bed at night and listen to fights that end in the clatter of shattered glass. He puts his phone on silent when his parents call him over and over again, until eventually Sapnap and George convince him to block them altogether.
The scariest moment is about a week after he starts living with them, when they go back to Dream’s house to grab anything important that he needs. To be honest, he knows it won’t be much. His parents have never been big on sentimental items, throwing out all his toys and clothes as soon as he outgrew them, and he never went through the trouble of decorating his room with anything other than a few medals and books. The only thing he really needs is his laptop.
They go in the middle of the day, when both his parents should be at work. Dream still has a house key, but they have to ask Punz to drive them since Dream normally bikes or walks and they don’t want to carry the boxes a mile back to campus.
Sapnap and George are right behind him as he cracks the door open, peering into the hall and listening for any sign of life. When he decides the coast is clear he steps in, holding the door open for his friends. Sapnap holds Dream’s hand as they make their way upstairs, George trailing close behind with a pile of collapsible cardboard boxes in his arms.
Sapnap gasps when Dream pushes the door to his bedroom open, but Dream isn’t surprised at all. It’s a mess. The sheets and pillows are torn off the bed, the dresser toppled and spilling shirts onto the ground. There’s a pile of his hoodies on the mattress, covered in what looks like white paint. His books have been pulled off the shelves and torn apart, ripped pages scattered across the room. And there, on the floor in front of his desk, is his computer, smashed to bits.
“Jesus christ,” George breathes as he comes up behind them. Dream just sighs.
They spend about an hour picking through anything salvageable, ending up with three boxes: two full of clothes and one with everything else he might need: a textbook for class, only partially destroyed, along with the pages they could scavenge; a handful of photographs from a birthday party his friend threw in third grade; a tiny alligator plush that Dream remembers digging out of the trash when his parents threw it away, tucked under his mattress where they wouldn’t find it; an envelope of cash he kept under his socks.
Once they’re done Dream looks around the room, a bittersweet ache blooming in his chest. He didn’t particularly enjoy living at home, but the knowledge that he’ll never set foot in the house he grew up in still weighs on him. More than that, it hurts to let go of his most important safe space, his bedroom, which has been his sanctuary since long before meeting Sapnap and George. But looking now on the wreckage and rubble, he knows it was never really that safe in the first place.
Sapnap and George leave him alone as he says his final goodbyes, and he joins them in the hall with a nod. Sapnap gives him a reassuring nudge, trying to balance the two boxes in his arms, while George offers a small smile over the top of the miscellaneous box. “Just toiletries now, right?” he asks.
Dream hums, going into the bathroom and throwing in his basic hygiene items. Sure, he already has a toothbrush back at the dorm, but he might as well grab his own shampoo and towel while they’re here so he doesn’t have to borrow from the others. He’s just picked up his body wash when the door downstairs slams open, a booming voice rising from the stairs. “Dream? Where are you?”
The bottle slips from his hand, the clatter of it hitting the floor ringing in his ears like a gunshot. He grabs George's arm as cold terror floods his body, mouth open in a silent plea.
"Go back to the car," George hisses, looking at Sapnap. "I'll get the rest of the stuff."
Sapnap hesitates for a moment but puts his box down, wrapping his arm around Dream's shoulder as he guides him downstairs. George is close behind them as they head to the door, the voice still calling from the kitchen down the hall.
Dream feels the moment his mother rounds the corner, skin prickling with goosebumps.
"Dream!" she yells, sharper and louder than before. "Come here!"
His steps falter but Sapnap is right there, practically pushing him through the front door. "Don't turn around," he murmurs.
Dream hears her call his name again before she's abruptly cut off by George. The last thing he hears is George threatening to press charges while his mom curses. As soon as the car door closes he collapses into Sapnap's welcoming embrace, face pressed into Sapnap's hoodie. He knows he's shaking like a scared kitten, vice grip on Sapnap's clothes and crying like a child, but as Sapnap holds him closer, one hand rubbing his back while the other gently combs through his hair, he can't bring himself to care.
After a few hiccuping sobs he manages to get out one word: "Ge-orge."
"I know," Sapnap whispers. "I'll go get him —"
"NO!" Dream screeches, fists wrapped in Sapnap's sweatshirt. "Please don't — please don't leave, I can't — I need you please don't —"
"Okay, okay,"Sapnap soothes, trying to get him to settle down. "I won't leave you, okay?"
Dream nods, more tears soaking into Sapnap's collar.
"Punz," Sapnap whispers, "go check on George and grab the boxes from upstairs. There's three of them." The car door opens and shuts again before Dream checks out completely.
He's not sure how long he sits there, barely able to understand Sapnap's words of comfort, but eventually someone opens the trunk and then George is climbing in next to them, miraculously whole and well.
Dream latches onto him immediately, babbling incomprehensibly as Punz pulls out of the driveway. Somewhere along the way Sapnap digs out the stuffed alligator for him to hold, and Dream cries and cries after that, letting all the fear and grief and loss pour from his body. The rest of the day is a blur.
Since then things have been really good. He can still go to practice and class, but now instead of dreading the end of the night he comes home to video games and laughter. There are still difficult things, of course, but George and Sapnap are there with him through it all. They’re so patient and accommodating, they never yell or throw things, not even when they get frustrated. They let him borrow their clothes and use their meal plan and help him buy a new computer. One of his favorite changes is that, after Dream spent a few sleepless nights pacing after a nightmare, terrified that his parents would come through the door at any second, the triple bed has now become a permanent fixture. Dream doesn’t know if this is a thing normal friends do, but at the end of the day he’s always happy to curl up with them to sleep.
There’s only one thing he’s still afraid of. The proximity and cuddling has done nothing to abate what he can now acknowledge is a crush on not one, but both of his friends. He’s terrified that one day he’s going to slip up and they’ll know. He’ll press a kiss to George’s lips before bed or he’ll say “I love you” when Sapnap brings Dream his favorite muffin from the cafe across campus, and then it will be over. He’ll have lost the best thing he’s ever had because he can’t control himself.
But other than that, it’s good. It’s easy. He says as much one day when they’re eating takeout in the room. Sapnap and George sprawl across their beds (the mattresses haven’t been put down for the night yet) while Dream perches on one of the desks, feet tapping on the seat of the chair in front of him.
“It’s just so easy with you guys,” Dream says around a mouthful of food. “I shoulda done this sooner.” He doesn’t realize what he’s said until no one responds, the silence tense enough that Dream raises his head to look at them. Both of them are staring at him. Dream swallows. “Guys…?”
Sapnap, always the first to comfort, breaks first. “Yeah, no, I mean… I just think, ya know… we wish we could have helped you sooner.” He glances over to George, who has set his food aside with a pensive look on his face.
Dream can tell he has something to say, so he waits.
"Why didn't you ever tell us?" George asks without looking up at him.
"I did," Dream protests.
George gives him a look. "You know what I mean. You only told us because you thought you were gonna die. And you didn't even really mean to tell us."
"It just… I mean, I just didn't know if it would matter. Like, it wasn't worth getting in trouble for if nothing would change." He doesn't say that it went deeper than that, that he was afraid he'd lose his friends altogether. He was terrified that they'd find out what his parents did and they'd take a closer look at him because parents didn't usually do that . And then, in his worst nightmares, they'd find out that he deserved it. They'd side with his parents, they'd see the real Dream as someone who could only be tamed through violence, they'd leave him. He knew it was unlikely, but the risk was still too great.
"We would have helped you," George says earnestly. "We could have helped you so much sooner. And not just us! So many people care about you. I mean, it's over now but if something like that happened again… I just want you to know you have us and the team and so many people who love you —"
"No one loves me!" Dream bursts out. "No one wants this! No one wants me! "
"We want you!" George protests immediately, nearly yelling. "We love you!"
"NOT THE WAY I LOVE YOU!"
Dream slaps a hand over his mouth, but it's too late. Icy dread trickles through every synapse and nerve in his body and he feels tears start to prickle at his eyes. He feels sick, the panic making the silent room feel painfully loud as he stumbles to his feet.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he mumbles, not looking at either of them. What is he going to do? Where is he going to go? Will he have to go back to his parents? He can’t do that, he just can’t. He’d rather live on the streets. It’s pretty warm in Florida anyway, he’d really just have to avoid the cops. Maybe Punz would let him stay for a few days? No, he can’t do that either. He can’t risk losing anyone else on the team now that George and Sapnap are gone.
Although, he’s not sure if that will actually end up being his choice. He doesn’t think they would, but if George and Sapnap tell everyone he would lose them all. Not that he thinks they’ll be homophobic or anything — sure he’d get some teasing, but at the end of the day all of them are good people. No, that wouldn’t be the issue. The issue would be that he infiltrated George and Sapnap’s home, manipulated them into caring for him, lurked in the background when they changed and cried, when they were at their most vulnerable. Even if he didn’t mean to, it will look like he took advantage of them. Like he used them. Like he violated them.
The nausea surges up again as he reaches for the door, but he’s stopped by a hand closing around his wrist. Dream gives a half hearted tug, looking up at Sapnap through a sheet of tears, sickeningly grateful that he can’t make out his expression. “I’m sorry,” he chokes, voice thick with emotion. “I’m leaving, you don’t have to see me again, I - I’ll -”
“Dream,” Sapnap says, sucking all the air out of the room. Dream stands rigid in the silence, too scared to move. “It’s okay.” And just like that Dream can breathe again, although the air still cuts at his lungs. “You’re okay,” Sapnap continues, guiding Dream over to sit on George’s bed. Dream holds himself stiffly, trying desperately to keep from bumping either of his friends, but it’s hard when he’s sandwiched between them on a twin size mattress.
“I’m sorry,” Dream whispers again, unable to say anything else.
George just hums in acknowledgement, resting a hand on Dream’s arm. “What did you mean?”
Dream shakes his head, chest going tight. “I can’t -” he whispers before being cut off by Sapnap.
“You can,” he says, pressing a hand over Dream’s tightly balled fist.
Dream shakes his head more frantically, gasping out his next words. “I didn’t mean to. I just — I wasn’t trying to trick you; I didn’t know where else —”
“Hey, hey,” Sapnap soothes. “We’re not mad. Just… tell us the truth, okay?”
Dream swallows around the stone in his throat and nods. “I didn’t even really realize until everything happened, but… I just… I…” He stares down at his hands, struggling not to fidget under their gazes. “I like you guys,” he manages, barely above a whisper. “And I keep trying not to but I can’t…” His voice warbles as tears fill his eyes. “I don’t know why I’m like this. I don’t want to lose you guys or make things weird but it’s like I can’t… I don’t know, control myself? And I think, you know, that’s why my parents did all that stuff and I’m trying, I am, but now that they’re not around it’s like I’m just… I’m, like, out of control. Like I don’t, you know, I don’t think I’m a good person and I know I shouldn’t — that you guys don’t deserve this, or me, or whatever, but I feel… I just… I’m sorry.” He doesn’t know what else to say. He wants to apologize again, to grovel and beg at their feet, but he doesn’t think it would make a difference. They know what he wants, what he would do for them. What he did to them. They have to make their choice on their own.
Sapnap lets out a low whistle. “There is… a lot to unpack there.”
Dream doesn’t even have time to apologize before George pipes up. “Do you think your parents hit you because you’re bad?”
“Yes…” Dream proffers, peeking up at George before registering the frown on his face. “No! No, I don’t,” he tries instead. He looks at George for approval but he still looks unhappy.
“Dream,” George scolds, and Dream shrinks under his glare.
“I just — I mean I know it’s wrong but like, I mean some of it…” He sees George’s face darken and backtracks, combing his mind for what his friend wants to hear. “Not that I, like, deserved it or anything! But sometimes it’s like, I don’t know, like it wasn’t — I mean, don’t you think I was like, better? Back then? Or like, less annoying maybe? Like! Like stuff like this, right? Cause I’m like, being weird? Don't you think it would be better —”
“No, Dream!” Sapnap all but shouts, sounding shockingly scandalized. “I don’t think it’s better! For you to be fucking scared and hurt? Why would that be —”
“Sorry…” Dream mumbles, and Sapnap snaps his mouth shut.
“You don’t have to be sorry,” George says, although he still sounds disappointed. “Can you just… let’s just backtrack a bit, alright? When you said you liked us…”
“I shouldn’t have,” Dream says quickly.
“No, no, it’s fine,” George insists, gently thumbing at Dream’s knuckles. “We just… want to know what you mean. Is it… do you have romantic feelings for us?”
Dream ducks his head, a fresh round of tears welling in his eyes. Everything he’s felt this past year bubbles up inside him, hurt and fear and longing all tangled into one big knot. He doesn’t know what to say. He doesn’t want to lie. He lets out a heavy sigh and nods.
There’s a sigh of what sounds like relief and a soft giggle before he feels warm lips pressed against his cheek. “We like you too,” George murmurs against his skin.
Shock courses through him as he whips around. “You…?” George nods. Dream looks over at Sapnap, who’s smiling, then back to George. “But I… it’s not just —”
“We both like you,” Sapnap says, pecking his other cheek.
Dream lets out a squeak, flushing red from what feels like his face all the way down to his toes. “You do…?”
“We have for a while,” George says with a shrug. “But it just never felt like the right time. You had enough shit to deal with, y’know?”
“And if you said no we didn’t want you to feel like you couldn’t stay here or that it would be weird or anything,” Sapnap adds.
Dream tries to think past the sparkling joy that fills his chest, searching for the flaw, the crack, anything that tells him that this really is too good to be true. “But you both — you would be okay with…”
“We also like each other,” Sapnap assures him with a laugh.
“But we didn’t want to date without you,” George says.
“Or pressure you,” Sapnap finishes.
Warmth, as foreign as it is welcome, fans out from Dream’s chest. It’s like every dream he’s ever had, every wish he ever made while he was curled up in a cold house, every secret longing he shoved into the deepest, darkest part of his heart, is coming true. To be loved, truly loved, is everything he ever wanted. His parents often told him they loved him, and at the time he believed them, but it never felt like this. Somehow, he knows this is what real love feels like. It’s so much softer than violence and discipline, so much quieter than screaming and sobs. It’s patience and thoughtfulness, generosity and selflessness. It’s saving his life even though he obstructed them at every turn.
They love him. And he loves them.
The word bubbles up inside him, but he doesn’t let it out just yet, and for once that restraint isn’t a painful pressure, but a grounding weight behind his sternum. He has time. They all have time. And they’re going to spend it together.