Chapter Text
The double doors loomed over him. Hard, dark oak that hid so much. George’s eyes grazed up them as his hand hovered by the dulled gold handle.
“George. Would you like me to come with you?” His mother whispered, crouching slightly to reach his level and his father’s hand rested on his shoulder.
George sucked in a shaky, little breath and fiddled with his suit jacket sleeves. “Um. No. Just us.”
In contrast to what people might’ve thought, he was looking forward to this part… in a way. The past five days had just been so lonely without Dream and he hadn’t been able to talk to him and now he could. Even if it was to say goodbye.
Despite the preparation for losing him, it sort of just felt like he was having a really long surgery and he was going to comfort him about it again.
He’d cried floods on Christmas, keeping his arms wrapped around the small frame, screaming hysterically at him to wake up, come back. All until he had to be pulled away by people that weren’t mad at him.
He had to watch the heavy door close in front of his eyes and the boy in the dinosaur onesie being covered by a sheet after being so exhausted from all of the pain.
He didn’t know what happened to boys that fell asleep between when they did and the funeral but he assumed he’d been somewhere cosy.
And now there was only a set of doors between them. Luckily, he knew everything that he was going to say because he’d been dying to tell him everything for so long.
So he twisted the handle and stepped into the room. He was pleased that the ceiling wasn’t too high and the light came from candles and soft lamps. Dream was always fascinated by fire so on his birthday he’d usually stare at the candles for a bit before he blew them out. George could see him smiling and the light dancing in his eyes. He wished he’d be able to see the room they were in where he wouldn’t have to blow them out.
The aisle of seats seemed to lead forever off until a coffin much shorter than the ones he’d ever seen was presented at the end.
On the closed part, laid a large bouquet of red roses.
He practically sprinted to the end, where there were some steps set up for him to reach the open part.
“Dreamie?” He poked his head over the edge and a wave of relief fell over him at seeing the familiar face. “Wow. You look so pretty, sweetheart.”
He even smiled as he raised his hand to stroke over his hair slowly, taking him for a moment. “I know I never called you that before, but I heard my mum call my dad sweetheart and you’re my husband and I felt bad because I never called you my sweetheart. And it makes sense because you’re very sweet and you’re in my heart. And hearts mean love and I love you.” It did feel weird for his head to be so icy cold but he tried not to think about that.
“I wish I could give you a blanket so you would warm up. Hopefully, even though you said you’re scared about going underground, all the dirt will keep you warm. And you’re asleep so you won’t be scared of the dark. Like my mum says that if I shut my eyes then it’s dark and I’m not scared and then I fall asleep. I think it’s better because some people get burned up but I think that would hurt you and I never want you to hurt. This way, at least you get to keep your hair because you like it so much and we’re both so proud of coming back. And your very beautiful eyes and your cute nose and your kissy lips. Even if I can’t see them again, you get to have them,” George told him, already starting to feel the back of his throat ache as he let a hiccup bubble from himself.
His other arm laid over his body so he could hold onto his favourite hands. “There, see, I’m here.”
He frowned as he looked at Dream, sound asleep like he’d seen so many times but with the stillness of an object. Like the coffin itself, or the room or the chairs, still .
“I was thinking about everything we would do if you woke up. First of all, we would kiss forever. I like kissing you a lot. Then we’d go to school and we’d grow up. We would have to study for tests together and do all of the homework I heard they get in high school. And I think they have school dances that we could go to and dance together even if you’re in your wheelchair. We would have so much time. And we’d go to college like you said and we could share a room and kiss more. And even though we are married, I- I was watching videos of other people getting married and I imagined you wheeling down the middle towards me looking all happy and that would be my favourite thing to see in the world. And I thought that maybe I could get pregnant and we could have our own little baby. And-“ George realised that even though he interrupted himself with a whimper and there was water in his eyes, that his voice sounded so excited. Excited about what would’ve happened. “I- I thought that we could get a real cat. And one for it to play with. And I imagined you with our baby on your lap and wheeling really fast down the street and I’d run really fast after you because I’d be so worried both of you would get hurt somehow.” He giggled even though it was a painful breath to give.
His eyes began to blur so he wiped them as best as he could on his arm so as to not let his hands leave Dream’s.
“I’m also really sorry-“ his voice cracked like a diamond would crack. “-sorry that when you fell asleep I was shouting so much. I wasn’t mad at you, I promise. I just wish you’d come back. Dreamie, can I ask you a question? Sorry, that was a question.” He giggled another strained giggle.
He waited, though there was no indication of a yes or no, he decided to ask anyway. “I think it would be better to ask nicer. Could you- Dreamie, please could you wake up? Just- please ? I love you so much. I might as well ask, see if it works. Please can you wake up and we can do all of that together? And we won’t have to be alone? Ever? If you wake up right now then we can go home and hug. If you- please, Dreamie. I wasn’t yelling at you, I’m sorry. Please don’t go.”
There were scorching tears he hadn’t registered streaming down his cheeks as he watched nothing happen. Nothing happened.
He choked out a sob and rested his head on Dream’s chest. His breaths were heaves and he wept, not silently but quiet enough for no one to come in.
“I love you too much. You- we have a handprint in clay from you. F-funny ‘cause Clay is your name. But what about when I’m a grown-up and my hand is really big when I try to hold yours? You won’t get to be a grown-up.”
He cried more, tears bleeding onto him. Onto the suit he wore at their wedding, George stroked his hair like they did, in the same one too. He had both of their rings on his finger and he never wanted to be parted from them, as long as he lived.
“I can’t say goodbye, sweetheart. It’s not right. It’s not fair. I’m never gonna-“ he didn’t have to finish the sentence - there were an infinite amount of endings to it. All the things he’d never do again or never do in the future.
George was helpless. What could he do? He couldn’t do anything but had half a mind to climb into the coffin too to hug him properly.
“Oh. Why? Why are you gone? Why can’t I just give you food and water and you’d be alive? I know it’s the clumps but why ? Why you ?” He cried.
Such a broken, empty feeling, not only from missing him, but knowing he was dead and not alive and just somewhere else made everything worse.
“I’m going to talk to you every day, okay? So you’re never lonely. I can’t- I can’t leave you. Can’t leave you...” He wanted to fall (regularly) asleep there, on his lover’s chest so he wouldn’t have to think about where Dream was.
“And your mum let me have some of your clothes so I can wear them until they get too small. Which is good because they’re all bigger than mine anyway. And I have Mr Paw-Paw. He’s outside though. Um-“ He paused to think of good things to say but he just wanted to burst into more tears when he trailed back to when he’d kiss with a “mwah” and he’d say “I love you.”
“I- I will never forget you, Dreamie. Because if I forget you then you’re gone. If I don’t remember what we did, then it’ll be like it never happened. I’m the only one who knows about some things now that you can’t remember them. So my main promise is to think about you all the time so that if the only place you are is my mind, then it’s somewhere that I can see you and hug you. I love you. I love you the most ever. I love you. You’ll be okay. I don’t know if I ever will be. Maybe I don’t want to be okay without you. I don’t know. I just know that I miss you and love you so much now.”
He had a blistering headache from all of the sadness, all of the crying. It seemed to burn him from the inside out.
If anyone would ever tell him it wasn’t real, that they were just kids and it wasn’t real, then George didn’t know what he would do.
At least it was a nice room. At least they did everything on the list, though deep down George knew it wasn’t what he meant. Yeah, they’d done their best with it, but Dream wanted to be a student in college, he wanted to grow up and get married with his friends and family and an officiant there with everything that came with being an adult. George knew under all of the items on that list, he wanted to grow up before he died.
But then he remembered something that made him smile. “Silly me,” his voice was still shaky though, “I actually have something to give you. Because they had to change you into your nice suit, I have your pin now. I could’ve given it to them to put on, but I put it on before and I want to do it again.” He dug his hand into his pocket to find it, the only thing that laid in there. His fingers trembled so much that he worried he’d drop it.
“I kind of wanted to keep it because I want to keep as much of you as I can. But it’s a you thing. I thought it was something you’d want and the only reason I’m not giving you back your ring too is because you said I should keep it,” George said, smiling through weak lips. He leaned to fiddle with the back before he slipped the needle through the material of his jacket’s collar and fastened it again.
“There.” He stroked over it. “You’re so pretty, Dreamie.”
His eyes drifted to the flowers and he thought about when he showed Dream one for the first time and just how happy he was just to be in the presence of a real life red rose.
“You have lots of red roses there. It’s a pity you can’t see them because you’d be so happy looking at them. You know, they knew you liked roses but they were going to put white ones. And I said “No. He wants red ones. Red roses are his favourite. They have to be red.” And they listened. A-and when they asked me about who from school to invite today, I said everyone on our table and our teacher. And I said Emma should come. Even though we only saw her twice, she was still a better friend to you than anyone at school. So she’s here too. I want to stay friends with her, even though I’m titchy and she’s grown up. It was quite surprising that she’s so sad even though she didn’t see you as much but it kind of made me happy,” George said, but realised really quickly how that sounded.
“Not because I want her to be sad. It’s more like if she’s sad, then she cares about you. And everyone here is sad, so everyone cares about you. I hope you know how special you are to everyone. Even though you said you thought it would be better for everyone when you fell asleep because we wouldn’t have to worry about you. But- b-but now I can tell you that it is not better,” George said, more tears trickling out of his eyes as his hand slid back into Dream’s.
“I still have stuff in my speech to tell you- actually- did you know I’m saying a speech for you? Yeah. I cried really hard when they asked me because I felt like I mattered. Like they thought what we have matters. I was sad about you but it was very happy to be noticed when normally, our opinion doesn’t matter because we’re kids and we don’t know anything. But I know that I love you and I’m not confused or stupid, I know that I do,” George said.
He wasn’t sure how long he was allowed in there but he knew it wasn’t as long as he wanted.
“I think I’ve been here a long time now. So I’m going to go. But I’m not leaving forever, I’m coming back, sweetheart.” George tried his best to muster up a smile when he leaned over to press a small smooch onto his cheek. “There. I still didn’t cross it off the list. It’s okay. Sleep tight, little Dreamie. I love you. I’ll do another kiss because you like them,” George said sweetly, even though his heart was breaking into pieces. Then he let his lips peck another kiss onto his nose, even though it was like kissing a porcelain doll. He missed the way he didn’t scrunch up his nose or blush or smile bashfully up at him. He kissed his forehead too. His mind was still in there, still with all of the information stored, all of the memories in there and they always would be.
“Bye, bye, Dreamie,” he said finally, his face scrunching and his bottom lip pouting as he finally looked away and hopped down from the step. His fists were clenched busy his sides as he turned away and walked, doing his best not to turn back around.
-
It was weird sitting in that room again, at the front, looking at a large photo of Dream, his eyes twinkling as he smiled. It was a sheepish grin, his cheeks so rosy pink and his blond hair fanning his forehead as the hood of his dad’s hoodie drooped all over it. It came down to his shins and he held up his hands to show the cuffs and arms flopping far over them.
He was standing and had hair so it was before the surgery. George recognised the slight redness in his eyes from crying and the hoodie from when he was getting the headaches and wanted his father to hold him when he couldn’t be there.
George kept his eyes fixed on that picture, doing his best to smile at it because he knew he’d start to hyperventilate if he looked at anything else. Even now, looking at him gave George enough serotonin to stay calm.
Eventually, he was called up to speak and his legs wobbled but his dad gave his back a pat and his mum squeezed his hand so he took a deep breath and slid off his seat.
Pitiful eyes followed him, softening even more at the child about to talk about his best friend.
He had to gulp at the room of people, but he smiled when he found Emma in the crowd.
“Um, hi. I’m George. And I’m going to talk about Dream because to me he’s Dream , even though no one knows him like that and I don’t know how many more times I’ll get to say his name as that out loud to anyone. I love Dream. He is like if you got all of the energy in the world and turned it into love, it would be him. He is love. That’s why he’s my husband and I love him. Um-“ George had to take another breath and look around as he fiddled with the rings on his fingers. “Oh! Look, this is proof we did get married.” He held up his hand proudly and wiggled his fingers to show them off.
“Uh- D-Dream went through a lot. Yes, a lot of pain, too much for any child. Obviously, because he couldn’t take it,” George said, sadness carrying in his voice as he let his eyes land and settled on Dream’s little face in the coffin. “But he also went through love. He had his parents loving him every step of the way, doctors and nurses only being nice to him. People at school didn’t make fun of him because he didn’t have hair or couldn’t walk. And I got to kiss him a lot and danced with him and held his hand and hugged him and married him.” George was smiling. Actually happy as he traced his mind over the last year. “We even found out what gay was together and that that’s what we are. I think when some people called me that they were trying to be mean but I don’t care because I don’t think you could ever say loving someone like Dream is wrong. Because I was so proud to be the one Dream loves like that and that I get to love him like that, it only made me happier when people called me that so I think that’s why they stopped before we started middle school. I like to imagine he’d do art if he was allowed to grow up. Or writing because he wrote me a letter and likes reading. I would read all of his stories and look at all of his paintings, even if they weren’t good, but I’m sure anything Dream did would be the best. But he can’t. He can’t do any of that. The only thing that I can hold onto is the fact that science says he’ll never be destroyed and one day we’ll both be bits of leftover energy and stuff and we can hug and kiss again then. We’ll all be able to say “I love you” again to anyone that falls asleep like he fell asleep. I love you, Dream. I’ll always tell you that.”
When he looked back at the room, people were smiling, even if Dream’s parents were sobbing, they could all smile thinking about Dream.
He looked back at the photo. He looked at Dream. Then he burst into tears and ran off, to his parents who although had tears in their eyes, were happy to hold onto their own eleven-year-old. Dream would never see eleven.
They only slightly managed to calm him down enough to watch when Dream’s parents held hands as they closed the casket lid over their child. Thud, and his face was gone forever.
George was a wreck knowing he was in there, even if it looked cosy. And when his Dad got up to help Dream’s carry it to the hearse, he was crying but he made sure to wave a small wave as it left, his hand hovering in the air and his mouth agape. It couldn’t be happening.
He went to see it before it drove off to the cemetery. The flowers all over it and at least George deemed there enough space in there. He patted the wood, hoping Dream knew he was there.
How could it have come to this? A year ago just enjoying their Christmas break, probably on a play date with the things they got for Christmas. Now, Dream was being taken away from him. He was dead. He died in that time.
-
When he was being lowered into the ground, George was peering over, his hands tense on the bars as he was ripped further and further away. Each movement hurt as the coffin got smaller, more shade by the darkness. He let a tear drop down from his eyes and into the hole. All he wanted was to take him back up and shake him awake and hug him forever, but he wasn’t even going to see him again.
But, he felt something cold and soft on the back of his neck. When he looked up, the air was being sprinkled with snowflakes, floating down like ash that soothed rather than burned.
Snow was falling into the hole and it made him smile, knowing that Dream would’ve been enchanted to see the delicate crystals that were around him now.
He even spotted a robin, just as beautiful with a crimson puffed chest as the one they’d spotted outside Dream’s window in the hospice. Maybe it was him. George liked to think so. So he waved at that too, just in case.
He then turned back to Dream, a long way down, but no longer moving. That was where he was going to stay for the rest of time.
He was given a rose to throw in, but before he did, he made sure to kiss all over it, as much passion as he could muster as it was the closest thing he could get to kissing Dream. Then he watched the red fall and hit the coffin, he hoped, giving all of the kisses to him.
“I love you,” he whispered down with it.
Then they had to leave. He turned to go to his parents, but his eyes fell on Dream’s. How his father had his arm around his mother, eyes red and dressed in black, and she was tucked away into him, hair covering her face.
Even though he didn’t come up very high on them (his father just being really tall and his mother wearing heels), he went over and hugged them both.
They felt surprised at first but they soon crouched down, without a word, and hugged George back.
-
It was strange being at Dream’s house now. At events like this, with lots of adults around, they’d usually sneak away to his bedroom to play.
Now, Dream hadn’t even been out of the hospice in a while, let alone to his bedroom. George still snuck away, though tentatively.
He was holding Mr Paw-Paw by the mitten as he pushed the door open. He smiled at the way it was left untouched, as if it were ready for Dream to come back to it.
“Look, Mr Paw-Paw, do you remember it here?” George asked, sitting down on Dream’s bed and stroking the duvet lovingly.
It was still snowing out of his window and George laid down, tucking the little cat against him and kissing the pillow.
He tried to smell it and it was a smooth coating of comfort to pick up the faint memory of his scent still woven into the fabric.
So much crying, so much pain, temporarily covered by this piece of respite: remnants of the little boy.
It let him relax, let his own weary eyes close, his mind and heart filled with the love and memories of Dream.
All he had left to do was cross the last thing off the list.