#but when i felt the molten spike slide out to be replaced once more by its worrying jaws

[dreamlogic]

musing in the tags about the view two years out from my hysterectomy and the shifting nature of neuropathy. i asked my PT for recommendations/resources pertaining to pain science and that's been a very helpful lenses to have. i'm still not back to normal, will never be unmarked by this experience or return to my pre-op self, but my baseline has been gradually increasing over the last few months, and it feels good to look back on the last two years and say "i have no idea how i managed to function while living with that, but i did!"

[unethical-gender]

For context, I wanted it to be that the start of every chapter would be George and Dream talking in prison and eventually it would be just one big chapter of every chapter starter plus more and then george leaves the prison but I never got that far so. Enjoy👍

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"Why are you really here?"

George barely registered the question. He was still drowsy, the events of the day failing to sufficiently wake him. He didn't even look up to acknowledge Dream; he knew exactly where he was, sat a few feet away, slumped against the wall, dressed in torn, faded, and burned orange fabric that marked him prison property. It was a comfort to George, but also made him sick to look at.

"I told you why I'm here," George finally replied, voice as tired as he was and barely heard over the roar and crackling of the molten lava feet away, burning his skin. It was a familiar feeling at this point, nearly comforting, reminding him of the times that prisons didn't exist here, times when the only worry was temporary pain.

"I don't believe that you just suddenly want to see me," Dream said, the audible frown in his voice hurting George more than he expected. "You don't love me anymore. Why are you here?" 

"I still-" George started, voice caught in his throat. He forced himself to look up, to meet Dream's gaze, unfamiliarly unobstructed. His grey-green eyes shone wet in the orange light. George sighed.

"I still love you, Dream. I can't just stop loving you. That doesn't mean I like the person you've become."

Dream scoffed, breaking eye contact and instead gazing at his few belongings next to him. "The person I've become?" He almost laughed. "George, I've always been like this. You just chose not to see it."

George tightened his grip on nothing, un-cut nails digging into his palms until his joints ached from the pressure. He let his hands go slack by his sides.

"You're lying," George said meekly, trying to lace his words with a confidence he couldn't muster. Dream cocked his head, smirking with venom that George used to feel protected by. Venom that usually wasn't for him; now it was. Dream scooted closer, George forced in place by the deadly heat behind him. Now Dream was only a foot away, so close that George could smell him. He didn't smell very nice, dirt and sweat replacing his usual scent of wood and smoke.

"I'm lying?" Dream asked. "Since when do I lie to you?" George swallowed, words forming and passing through his lips before he could think.

"He said you weren't supposed to be like this," George's voice leaked the kind of anger only found in a deep love, the kind of anger that burns white hot because your heart has been broken. Dream's smirk faltered, but only for a moment. Almost instantly he was staring into George's soul and searching for an answer.

"Who's he, George?"

✳✳✳

George stretched, a newfound liveliness in his limbs. He could wander for hours without tiring, he felt. He brushed a hand through his hair, dried stems and grass falling out, he had been lying on the ground. He temporarily removed his glasses to quickly rub his eyes of all remaining sleep, keeping them shut tight until he replaced them. Bright, eternally summer days made his head ache without the dark filter of his sunglasses.

He quickly rose, searching for something to do. Conflict quickly rose around him every day, and he only wished to live like he did before there were worries and wars and death. He just wanted to run through fields and forests, to inhale moist, woodsy air and sleep in shady mushroom patches. So, he decided that's what he would do.

He walked until he fell under the shade of a forest (a natural one, not one that had been planted by someone), embracing the sweet and heavy air. He hadn't taken time to enjoy himself like this in a while. He walked until the trees were so thick he was nearly blind. He removed his sunglasses, face light from the lack of plastic. He still squinted, light occasionally squeezing through gaps in the thick oak branches.

He sat, leaned against a tree, and brushed his hands over the ground. He looked at the thick carpet of moss, the rotting, broken logs nearby, the red and white spotted mushrooms that grew around him. He felt at peace, like nothing and no one could find him or hurt him here. It was a pleasant distraction from his normally prison-themed thoughts. He decided he needed to do this more often.

He wasn't tired at all, he even felt energized, but the thick air was like a blanket urging him to melt into the tree and the moss and close his eyes once more. Who was he to deny the forests whims, to resist letting his eyes rest for a moment and let his other senses take over?

The forest air, of course, had a different plan, filling his lungs like a drug and quickly luring him into an undesired sleep amongst the thick flora. The forest almost seemed to want to claim him as it's own. It wouldn't be the first to try.

His awakening was rude, sudden golden light flooding in and burning his retinas through his shut eyelids. He quickly covered his eyes, head already threatening to burst. He groaned. Why was there suddenly a light source in the once blackened forest?

"Hello there."

A voice suddenly made George jump. The voice was familiar in a way that made his stomach turn and his heart drop. It was a voice he knew was impossible to be hearing.

"Dream?" He asked, hoping to be wrong. There wasn't a reply for a moment, swaying trees and distant water filling the silence.

"Is something wrong with your eyes?" The voice asked. George swore it echoed, but that must have been a trick of his aching brain, surely.

"Yes, you know that there is just- where are my glasses?" George groaned, reaching one hand around to feel blindly at the surrounding ground. Dream's possible escape from prison was second to him in his list of priorities, regaining vision being a clear winner for first place.

Suddenly, cool plastic tapped the hand covering George's eyes, making him jump. He quickly grabbed them and put them on, opening his eyes slowly to adjust and looking forward, expecting to see a disheveled Dream standing before him. The sight there, however, made him jump and try to slide backwards, a small yelp escaping him.

That wasn't Dream.

Instead of Dream as George had predicted stood, no, floated, what looked like an older version of Dream, if George had to guess. He domineered in size, twice the size of a human proportionally, large gold rings floating and crossed in an x surrounding his torso, spinning slowly. His face was obstructed by a nearly familiar mask, a large "XD" replacing the usual smile. George knew who this was, of course. Anyone did. He just never thought he would ever be face to face with DreamXD, with God, in any of his lifetimes.

He wore little clothing, a skirt-like wrap around his waist, emerald green and falling to his knees. He wore a hooded cape, a matching green, buckled at his bare chest with an eye of ender, or at least a replica of one. He stared menacingly down at George, curiosity visible on the lower, uncovered half of his face.

"DreamXD?" George asked, half hoping his eyes were deceiving him, that this was some headache fueled delusion. XD cocked his head, an action George found familiar to Dream.

"Yes. That's me." He replied, voice echoing by itself and eerily similar to Dream's. George was still stunned, hands gripping at the forest floor.

"What is wrong with your eyes?" XD asked, drifting forward and leaning down a bit. George couldn't back up, forced against the tree, so he sat still and stiff, contemplating how to answer.

"I, uh, don't know exactly," George started. "Its just they're super sensitive to light. I need the sunglasses to see." He gestured to the obvious glasses on his face. XD looked curious at every word George said.

"So if its dark you can take them off?" He asked. George nodded slowly, somewhat worried about what XD would do. XD was moving his hands, George watching as he waved through air with a determination George couldn't understand. When his hands stopped he held them out, an item materializing in his hands.

He held out to George a large sun hat, brim wide enough to go past his shoulders and colored bright red, uneven white splotches decorating it. It was a mushroom hat, resembling the ones George was sat amongst. George took it cautiously, leaning forward to make room and gently placing it on his head. It fit perfectly.

"You can take off the glasses," XD said. George's hands moved a bit, but hesitated. Sure, the hat blocked a lot of light, but if it wasn't enough it would be painful. Then again, how was he supposed to refuse the requests of God?

Slowly he removed the glasses, squinting his eyes in expectation, waiting for the spikes of pain to shatter his skull. It never came. He blinked, able to see the forest clearly now, untinted and beautiful. XD moved in closer; he would have been looking George straight in the eyes of his weren't covered by a mask. George had a feeling he could see him anyways.

"Your eyes are different," XD remarked. George darted his eyes around, trying not to look directly at XD.

"Yeah, they're different colors. Always have been." George muttered. XD looked like he might reach his hands out to touch his eyes, but instead kept his hands to himself, still levitating.

"You have pretty eyes, George," XD said in a way that made Georges stomach flip. He now sounded almost exactly like Dream. The echo in XD's voice had faded, yet was still audible, a small reminder that he still wasn't human. He had sounded like Dream before, sure, but the reverb had muddled it to a point of no effect. With the voice changed, though, George couldn't ignore the familiarity.

George didn't respond, just sat in a stunned silence, searching for coherent words. XD didn't seem to mind, seemingly content with staring into George's eyes, transfixed in amber and blue.

"Are you okay, George?" XD asked after a minute of George's nervous gaze. George blinked back.

"Yeah, Dream, I'm fine," he replied before he could think about it. XD didn't falter. It was his name, somewhat, even if it was apparent that George didn't mean it to address him.

"Why are you here," George asked, hoping to move the subject off of himself.

"Because you're here, George," XD said. He kept the echo out of his voice the best he could, watching the way something in George's eyes shifted. "You invited me here."

"Invited you?" George searched his memory for anything he did that could have summoned God. Nothing came to mind. "How did I invite you?"

"You're very welcoming, George. You seemed like you wanted to see me."

George bit his tongue. How did he seem like he wanted to see DreamXD? Wait, he thought, I was thinking about Dream and the prison, wasn't I? Is that enough to draw God's attention to you?

He forced himself out of his thoughts and slowly tried to rise without moving forward. XD followed him up as he rose, maintaining "eye contact" (since George couldn't see the others eyes, he wasn't sure it could qualify).

"I think I need to go now," George said, searching for an out. XD stayed still.

"Why? You have nowhere to be. You're asleep." XD stated like it was a known fact between the two. It was not.

"Im not sleeping," George corrected. "I woke up. You woke me up." XD shrugged as if to say "If you think so, sure."

"If you think you're awake, prove it to me," XD said. The echo in his voice had returned. George almost mourned the loss.

"How am I supposed to prove im awake, I mean, I just am," doubt began seeping into George's statements. He was awake, he was sure of it.

"Do you think I'm lying to you?" XD asked. "Why would I lie to you, George. What would I gain from that?" George opened his mouth and shut it just as quickly.

"I guess that's fair," he muttered. "But how can I prove im awake? Like, pinch myself?" He tried without request, hissing at the sting.

"Do you doubt the power of your dreams, George?" XD asked. George faltered for a moment. You aren't supposed to feel pain in dreams, right? Then again, you aren't exactly supposed to have casual interactions with God either, but here he was.

"So what, I'm lucid dreaming?" George asked, still disbelieving that a dream could feel this real. XD shook his head.

"You're still underestimating your mind, George," he said, echo slowly fading until it was nearly gone. "You're powerful."

George tilted his head down, the brim of his hat sufficiently blocking his face from view. Why must he sound so much like Dream when complicating me? He thought. Does he know the effect he has?

"So," George started carefully. "If im sleeping right now, does that mean im just imagining you?" XD shook his head again.

"I'm just as real as you are," he said, startling George as he reached a large hand to brush fingertips against Georges cheek, making his face flush pink. "Probably even more real."

"More real?" George asked, not moving away from XD's touch. "What does that mean? How can you be more real than me?"

"You ask a lot of questions," XD remarked, bringing his hand back and away from George. "You're smart. You can figure things out." George frowned.

"Why can't you just tell me things?" He asked. XD shook his head.

"You're asking questions again," he scolded. George was about to retaliate when XD held a hand up.

"I think it's time you woke up, George," he said. George felt a part of him panic. This was the closest thing he had gotten to a conversation with Dream in ages. Well, a conversation that wasn't a tearful and angry goodbye.

"Wake up?" George asked, now incredibly self conscious about the questions he asked. "Will you still be here?"

XD smiled, lowering himself to the ground finally. He towered over George, over twice his height and powerful enough to probably crush George's head between his hands without trying. He was closer, though, close enough that George could see slight strands of dirty blonde hair poke out from under XD's hood when he looked far up enough.

"I'm always here," XD said. "If you want to see me again, you just need to want to see me. I'll know." George shook his head slightly.

"That doesn't make sense," he criticized. "So can I see you when im awake, too?" XD's smile didn't change, but the energy of it shifted noticeably.

"You'll just have to see, won't you George?" George wanted to protest again, but his eyelids suddenly were overtaken with weight and his mind was slowing.

"Wake up, George. You can't sleep forever."

George was awake, the forest dark as it was when he fell asleep, glasses sat beside him and-

Holy shit.

The mushroom hat XD had made him in his dream was sat upon his legs in front of him. It was real.

"Probably even more real," the God's words ringing in George's head. He was more confused than ever now, unsure if he had actually been asleep or not. Other than the hat there was no sign of XD, the hole in the forest roof nonexistent now.

He already felt himself longing to hear that voice again. XD had told George that if he wanted to see him, he'd be there. XD wasn't there. Of course, this only lead to one thought for George:

He can only visit me in my dreams.

George now hated his energy, his lack of tiredness, and wished for sleep once again. He wished to hear the voice that tied his stomach in knots because it was once a voice that whispered sweet nothings into his ear at night. He wished to see the closest thing he had to the arms that held him tight and lips that declared George to be claimed by Dream in one way or another. This was the closest thing to loving Dream again, being loved by Dream again, that he probably would ever get. 

DreamXD had told him that he couldn't sleep forever, but in that moment he had fully prepared to fall into a coma with no regrets.