In which we fall back on what's familiar and we assume it's right.

      Or, George falls back into the intoxicating, dark waltz of love.

"Hello, Dream."

Schlatt's feet were propped up on a wooden table in Jack Manifold's house, across from the destroyed White House. The evicted owner stood outside awkwardly, shifting on his feet as guards watched the doors. Dream gazed at the checkered board with messily placed pieces, the half attempted chess game Schlatt had set up.

"Hello, Schlatt."

Dream's mask stared judged the beer stains and unshaven stubble silently.

"Sit, sit!" Schlatt poured another shot of the seemingly endless bottles at his side. He looked up at the spiraling endless black eyes of Dream's mask. "You want some?"

"No, thanks." Schlatt couldn't weigh the emotions behind Dream's voice. "I don't drink."

"Suit yourself." Another gulp of fire leaped down Schlatt's throat, and Dream's gaze drifted to the guards at the doorway. Schlatt set down the shot glass with a burp.

"You- Piss, Pod, whatever-" Another burp. "Leave us."

"It's Punz, sir." Punz's eyes were narrowed at Dream as he shut the door behind him.

Dream's eyes flickered around the house and out the window at Manburg behind his mask, scanning every nook and cranny and weakness. His eyes rested on Schlatt, the president, who was now unscrewing yet another bottle.

"I can feel your stare, boy." The shot glass was forgotten now, and Schlatt drank straight from the bottle. "You're looking down on me. I know you better than you could ever understand."

Dream looked at Schlatt's deterioration, and he knew he was listening to the bluffs of a drunk man.

"This place is looking...." Dream looked around the seemingly deserted Manburg grounds. "Sparse."

"Better, isn't it?" Dream almost wanted to feel concerned as Schlatt was nearing the end of another bottle.

He laughed. "You know, Dream, I've learned some key things from this. I don't need other people to drive away my loneliness, I just need to find a way to talk to it, you know?"

Schlatt's eyes were broken as warmth dripped down to his stomach. But the only thing Dream saw was someone who could be exploited, not a person that needed help. "Take that advice, kid, because it's good advice. Drown every single one of your feelings in old, stolen rum."

Whiskey swirled as Schlatt refused to look at himself in the glass reflection of the bottle. "I'm drinking bottled love now."

"If people wanted to see me, they'd come. But they won't." Schlatt chuckled, then slammed his hand against the table. "Who cares!"

"People are watching me spiral into destruction, and that's entertainment."

This official meeting had turned into a venting session for the broken man, and Dream grinned underneath his mask.

"Anyway," Schlatt cleared his raspy throat with a ragged cough. "White moves first."

Dream glanced down at the cheap, plastic pieces before inching forward a small pawn. After a few moves in calculated silence, Schlatt managed to take one of his pawns, drawing first blood. The little pawn was set next to the row of empty bottles.

"Why'd you really call me here Schlatt?" Dream jumped a horse. "I'm guessing it's not just for a game of chess."

"I have a proposition for you." Schlatt took Dream's horse with one of his pawns. The row of white pieces was growing next to the bottles. "I need a favor."

"Well, of course, Mr. President. I would be honored to serve under you." Dream's knuckles were white as he moved his queen forward, taking one of Schlatt's bishops. He didn't take his eyes off the chessboard. He slipped lies down Schlatt's throat like alcohol. "But it might come at a small fee."

"I know that." Schlatt grinned, pushing a rook forward. He plucked up Dream's queen.

"But I've got your queen."

"You do this favor for me." The queen was placed next to the lonely pawns. Dream watched with calculated coldness. "And you get to smooth things over with little Gogy and fight on the same side. You don't, and pretty boy beauty sleeps his way out of your life forever."

Schlatt watched as Dream made another move, unintimidated.

"That's not surprising." Schlatt took another rook from Dream. "I knew you wanted more than that. Is little Gogy not enough for you now?"

"I think that you underestimate that he is his own person too." Schlatt moved his pawn so Dream wouldn't take it. Dream tapped his finger on his leg excitedly. "And that he is not going to go with everything you say forever."

It took willpower for Dream to stay silent.

"Huh." Schlatt drummed his fingers together, trying to hide his surprise. "You've really given up on pretty boy."

"What can I say? I want power." A grin spread across Dream's face underneath his mask at every seed of a lie he planted. "And I'm willing to follow you for it."

Schlatt took another sip from his bottle, wiping his lips. "Power really does corrupt."

Dream looked at Schlatt like he was staring through his soul, through his beer-stained shirt, through his black heart, through his drunk mind.

"It really does."

"So what are you going to offer in return of my help?"

"If you want power, I'll give you power." Schlatt moved another piece, letting out a small smile. "That's your flaw, Dream. Once you want something, you'll stop at nothing to get it. Now I have the control."

Dream thought it was funny how much insight Schlatt had into every one, but was still too blind to see plain lies.

Schlatt slid his bishop across the board, adjacent to the king.

"Check."

Dream took his bishop, to his surprise. Schlatt moved a pawn forward aimlessly. He thought he could see the black smile on Dream's mask grow a little bit wider.

"Checkmate."

Schlatt's smile dropped. "How-"

"Never play chess when you're drunk, Schlatt."

I've got my queen and your king now.

And Dream had known it before, but that was the day that he learned how easy it was to control someone.

That was the day something darker truly took root.

It planted weeds.

It was ruining the innocence.

They blocked out the sun.

---

"Georgie, I'm home."

"Dream?"

Sapnap stood up from George and Dream's old bed, where George lay now in shambles, glass cups decorating the wood planks. His voice was tired and raspy. "Dream.... what- what are you doing here?"

"I'm home." Dream's mask hung around his neck in its normal manner, and his arms were spread out wide, the same arms George remembered hugging so tightly. He smiled warmly.

"I missed you."

"I-"

You know, George tried so hard to force even an ounce of anger into himself, as he had at the battlefield. He tried to fight back, he really did.

He wanted to get up and say to Dream that he couldn't just do that, he couldn't just block out memories and expect them to go along with it, but he knew he would be kidding himself because of course Dream could do that. He was DreamWasTaken, and George could not breathe without him.

And he could fake a thousand memories, and George would go along with it because love is a monster.

Love was standing in the middle of a blizzard, and George was too tired to fight against it, even as it stung his cheeks with wind and froze him to the core with hurt. He just wanted to close his eyes and drift away and imagine the pain away, because that was so much easier.

"Dream-" Sapnap cleared his throat. "I don't think you're welcome here."

"I missed you, too."

George said it because it was true, he had missed him.

You know they say forgive and forget, George consoled himself with that statement. He was being rational.

He remembered when Sapnap, Dream, and he went to the beach once, in a tropical server they had visited some far reach ago, back in the summer. Back when he and Dream were "just friends." He mostly remembered how the hot sand burned his feet and how they had to tiptoe on it to get back to their towel, and how the black concrete dug into his feet as they tried to walk their way back to a portal, but one memory stuck out the most.

The waves were crashing against the beach, so big they were taller than Dream, and they almost looked solid. They crashed into the shore, and as quickly as they came, they retreated back into the ocean, and back again. It was really windy, and for some stupid reason, Dream had gotten into his head the idea of diving into the waves as they hit the shore. And of course, being the dumbasses they were, they decided to go along with him.

George remembered the wave coming at him, and thinking about how peaceful it looked inside, how serene the water was before it crashed into him and it wasn't peaceful. It hit him like a brick, dragging his body along with it, and George felt the searing pain of salt in his nose. It threw him against the sand, raking his arms against the sand that felt like daggers.

And then it left, and George was cold, gasping for breath as the warm embrace of the water retreated. He didn't have time to catch his breath before he saw another wave coming towards him, and pure adrenaline grabbed hold of him as he scrambled against the hard sand, and all he remembered thinking was "I'm going to die here, I'm going to die here," and then he was on the hot sand again.

Dream, he and Sapnap laid there for a moment, dazed, before Sapnap starting laughing. The waves crashed in again, and the water touched the tip of their toes, and soon Dream was joining him with a wheeze, and they were all laughing, covered in sand, rolling on their sides.

And George remembered this part the most vividly because he remembered Dream's emerald eyes and how nice they looked against the blue sky. He remembered the sand speckled in his hair. He remembered turning to him and saying, "I want to do it again."

And that's exactly how he felt as he got out of bed, in his blue hoodie that he knew smelled, looking at the same emerald eyes.

It is so much harder to say no to someone when you're looking them in the eye.

All you want to do is forgive them.

Dream's arms were stretched out and they looked warm.

I don't think you can blame George for wanting to feel warm.

"Hug?"

Dream smiled, and his eyes crinkled at the edges.

All for George, everything for George.

It was always for George.

And it always would be for him.

George smiled back.

"Hug."

Dream's arms were indeed warm, and his chest was warm too.

And George could feel his beating heart, reminding him once again.

Dream was human.

Sometimes it was hard to believe that he was.

"You want to join, Sap?"

George could feel Sapnap's reluctance from the other side of the room.

"Nah, I think I'll go get some air."

Sometimes it was too hard to believe he was.

Dream planted a butterfly kiss on George's forehead.

It shouldn't be hard to believe he was.

When you've known someone for all your life, you tend to make excuses for them.

George leaned into Dream's chest, closing his eyes.

It's rational.

This is rational.

George didn't want to be nothing again.

R a ti o n a l .

Checkmate.