So I found this chapter in my drafts and I literally have no memory of writing it but hey its written so I'll post it

Anyways today there was a baby deer in my yard (and I live in an suburban area, houses on every side so idk why it was in my yard of all places) and it was bleeding and without a mother so rip bambi ig

TW: PTSD, anxiety, poor eating habits (not an ed), George is not doing ok 😬😬

Previously...

I blink slowly, yawning. Now that I think about it, I'm kind of tired too. George had the right idea, sleeping through the flight.

My head bobs a little, eyes closing. Some sleep would be good for me. My head rests on George's, and I find myself falling into unconsciousness.

George's P.O.V.

I feel something hit my head, and I jolt awake. I can't move. Why can't I move?

"George!" Dream. Why is he here? What's going on? Why does he sound so muffled? "Hey, hey, calm down, you're ok!"

I look around at my surroundings, taking in short gasps of air. Dream was right, I'm not in any danger. I'm on an airplane, the seatbelt was restricting me from moving, and everything sounds muffled because of the headphones on my head. My old mp3 player had died, so the music had stopped.

"...George?" Dream asked cautiously, hands out. I look at him, tilting my head with a frown. He sighs, watching me carefully.

"Ok... so... we were on the plane, right?" I nod slowly, wondering where he was going with this. "And you fell asleep... on my shoulder..." Dream seemed nervous, fidgeting with his hands and looking away from me. "And I... fell asleep using your head as a pillow..."

Oh. Oh. Oh. I fell asleep on Dream? And he fell asleep too? In public?!

"But nothing bad happened!" He added quickly, looking guilty. I don't know if he thought I was mad, or what. But I wasn't, not really. I didn't really like the idea of us both being asleep in public, but like he said, nothing bad had happened.

And I slept on his shoulder. That has to mean something, right? That I did that without panicking?

I take a deep breath, looking up at him with a nervous half-smile. He raises his eyebrows, and I imagine he must be surprised. I don't blame him. I'm surprised too.

"You're ok?" He checks, tilting his head. I nod, slowly, but still a nod. "Oh! Ok, good. But uh... we made it to Orlando, if you want to go now..." Suddenly, I notice the emptiness of the plane. The only people left are Dream and I, plus a random flight attendant roaming the aisle.

"Hold on, let me just-" He grabs his carry on from the compartment above our heads, nodding at me that he was ready to go. We walk off the plane together, heading out into the airport. Dream takes a deep breath, smiles at me, and says:

"Welcome to America, George."

~

It had been about a week since we landed in Florida, and I could tell Dream was having second thoughts. Maybe he expected that moving in together would magically solve my problems, that a new life in a new country would somehow fix what had been broken.

In reality? Things didn't really change.

I spent most of my time alone in my room, going out to shower a few times a day. I never truly felt clean, because you can't exactly wash away memories with lemon scented soap.

I think it was becoming increasingly obvious to Dream that I just wasn't doing well. I hadn't left my room in days, except for showering and going to the bathroom. I didn't join him for any meals, I didn't speak, I barely slept because of the horrible nightmares that plagued me in unconsciousness... I didn't do much of anything, really.

I had lost track of how long it had been since I got to Florida. Dream had been cautious around me, giving me space and not pushing me to do things. But something in him had finally snapped.

"George?" He knocked at the door, voice filled with poorly-disguised worry. "Are you ok? Can I come in?" Obviously, I didn't answer. I didn't move, just stayed laying on the bed, staring blankly up at the ceiling. Here, it was different, no popcorn ceiling in sight.

"I'm coming in," Dream warned. Oh, right. I lost myself in thought easily, distractions at every turn. Although none of them were quite enough to distract me from the horrors of my memory.

"George...?" Dream opened the door slowly, stepping in and looking at me. I didn't move, just remained staring at the ceiling. "George? Please, just... give me something to work with. I know you're hurting, but I just want to help."

He steps closer, standing over me with worried eyes. I force my gaze away, turning my head towards the wall instead.

"George, please." His voice breaks, and I could almost swear I hear him sniffle. "Please. I miss my best friend. I want to give him the world. I know he's in there, somewhere. Please, George, come back to me."

I close my eyes. I don't want him to be upset. Maybe I could look at him?

I turn away from the wall, opening my eyes. I find myself face to face with teary yellowish eyes.

"...George?" Dream whispers, sucking in a breath. I nod, staring at him. I really wish we could be in a different situation, one where we met under better circumstances. One where I wasn't-

"George!" He sniffles, wiping at his eyes. It's a small thing, but it clearly means a lot to him. "I'm so sorry I didn't come up here earlier, I was waiting for you to do it on your own terms, but..." He sighs, expression saddening. "You're really sick, George. This isn't just something we can ignore. I need you to promise me you'll try to work with me here, I want to help you."

I don't know. I want things to go back to normal, but I know things will never be the same again. I think Dream doesn't want to accept that.

I guess I could try and go along with what he wants. It would be easier, probably. It wouldn't make any difference, but it would be easier. For both of us.

"George? Will you let me try and help?" He asks again, staring at me with hopeful eyes. I hesitate, before nodding slowly.

Don't get your hopes up, Dream. It'll only hurt more in the end.

Yeah I literally have no memory of writing this but hey pog

Seems like I decided that this happened. Ok lmao sure past me, pop off ig