Welcome Home Little Prince
George is going to have to face the fact this strange God looks like him. What better way to confront him about it than asking to live with said strange God for a few days?
I thought I had already posted this before I went on holiday! Pls forgive!
Sweet and to the point! Pls enjoy!
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One of the most annoying aspects of Dream was when something got stuck in his head, he could not let it go.
As soon as he spoke with George about the fact Sapnap and that tall God looked alike, George knew that wouldnât just be it. Now whenever there was a quiet moment with the three, George would watch Dream get that look in his eye as he looked to Sapnap. Eyes scanning, taking in every detail and comparing it with his memories. Before Dream could say anything, George could always intervene and he could move the conversation to another topic.
That could only work for so long. George could not stay by them both forever. He had stepped away as he woke up to hunt for food. When he came back, the house was tense and George could hear them talking in the kitchen.
âDream! Drop it!â
âYou canât tell me itâs not just a coincidence. He looks like you! Just...taller?â
The first idea that came to Georgeâs mind was just to leave. They could work out whatever they needed between them but there was a deep gnawing curiosity in George. For now, he focused on his care for Sapnap and walked to the kitchen.
Sapnap stood by the smoker currently cooking something. His arms were folded and lips curled to a snarl. Dream sat by the kitchen table but his chair turned facing Sapnap.
âYouâve got to know him!â
âIt is no business of yours if I know him or not!â
âNo business ofâWe were raised together Sapnap! I see a guy who looks just like you, who you clearly know, and Iâm supposed to not ask?!â
âWhat are you two yelling about now?â George cut in before Sapnap could snap back. It was clear what they were talking about, but making them explain it could at least calm them for a moment.
âDream wonât shut up about some random nobody he thinks looks like me.â Sapnapâs glaring eyes turned to George then. âAnd thanks by the way for telling Dream I spoke to him.â
âHow was I to know it was a secret?!â Georgeâs plan to diffuse the situation already failed in getting defensive. He took a calm breath and tried again. âDream. If he says he doesnât know him, then Sapnap doesnât know him.â
âSapnap is a liar!â Dream looked between the two. âAm I insane here?! There is a God who looks just like Sapnap, or close enough to at least and Iâm called crazy for just making the slight suggestion that itâs similar to me and XD?! If he spoke to him he clearly knows him!â
No it wasnât insane to think. George had thought the exact same thing but the concern for saving Dream was the only thing that mattered. That and the uncomfortable acceptance that if Sapnapâs copy was related to him, then logic would surmise his own was related to George.
âSo what if I know him, what is the big deal?â Sapnapâs voice was calmer now, trying to sound more distant and not caring. It did not work.
âSo you do know him!â Dream pointed his accusation, excitement renewed and surging through him.
Sapnap rolled his eyes and George felt an uncomfortable headache come along. âDream...â
âI knew you knew him!â
âDream!â George snapped again, this time getting his attention. âDid you think Sapnap doesnât want to talk about it because itâs uncomfortable for him?â
Dream snapped out of whatever excited mood took him. The sparkle faded from his eyes as he looked between Sapnap and George as though fully taking in the situation. âI... I didnât mean anything bad by it...â His voice flipped, now turning meek and he shrank in his chair.
As he took a seat by the table, the annoyance in George quickly melted to sympathy. He knew Dream wasnât trying to push boundaries. It was in his nature to explore a topic on his mind until he had all the answers and sometimes he got lost in pursuing it.
âSorry Sap...â Dream apologised.
âItâs fine. Itâs...whatever...â Sapnap shrugged but his voice was edged with sympathy too. Before George could enjoy the small relief that the matter was settled, Sapnap spoke again. âHe is... He... He calls himself my brother.â
The excitement crackled in the room again, but Dream kept his cool this time. He perked up with a smile. George felt a deep dread.
âBut heâs nothing to me! Heâs out of my life!â Anger came back into Sapnapâs voice.
âYouâve never mentioned him to us.â Dream gently probed. When Sapnap didnât snap again, he carried on. âDoes Bad know him?â
âYes. Of course he does. He-It doesnât matter!â
âWell...youâve never told us this before.â Dream carefully spoke. âI just...since with me and XD I thought maybe it would be the same thing.â
âItâs not the same thing! Your brother didnât fuck up your face and abandon you!â
Sapnapâs scar had just been apart of him for as long as Dream and George could remember. He never spoke about it, but George knew it bothered him. Some days Sapnap would style his hair to cover that side of his face more. If he was sit still and fidgeting heâd pull his hair just a little bit more over it. But then some days he walked around with the scar showing and not a care in the world.
âHe...â Dream started talking but stopped when George shot him a look. The tall God was large and imposing but he seemed nice enough. He stayed back and helped people out of the Eggâs pods. It wasnât impossible that it was all a show but George and Dream had no right to question that.
âSo thatâs why I donât want to talk about him.â
Sapnap put the matter to rest, but Dream couldnât. However, he had more grace now to gently ask. âCan I just ask one more question?â
Sapnapâs nose twitched, but he nodded.
âIs he a God too?â
Sapnap paused to think. âYes... I think.â
âSo itâs sort of like me and XD.â Dream confirmed for himself, but his eyes wandered to George. And Sapnap glanced to George as well. Because it was on everyoneâs mind.
Well if we have god-like brothers, then logic dictates you have one too.
âIâm going on a walk.â
George pushed himself up from the chair suddenly. Dream and Sapnap both looked shocked.
âD-Do you want company?â Dream offered.
âNo.â George quickly responded. âI need to think.â
George expected the tightness in his chest to fade once he stepped outside so when he walked into the woods and the stress did not ease, he grunted and carried on.
He was alone but it felt like eyes were still on him. Dream and Sapnap constantly staring at him like waiting on him to finally realise the truth and suddenly it would all click into place.
Well nothing clicked into place.
George had no memory of HD. No matter how young, George was sure that meeting or being related to a God was an unforgettable thing. The earliest of Georgeâs memories were of him managing to sneak off from his adoptive parents and escape into the woods. A three year old could not get very far however and he was always dragged back, but George would try again and again.
The memories slowly flowed in and George stopped mid-step. Memories of him always running to the woods when he could. If his parents eyes were off him for just a second, or the door was just slightly open, heâd bolt as fast as he could. George had always put it down to just childhood frenzy. Children got overexcited and ran off all the time. And he grew out of it.
Or...did he? Did he grow out of it, or was he just better watched? There were times George remembered his bedroom door locked and he threw tantrums in frustration. If he didnât get out and run to the forest, it felt like a part of him would die. As an adult he excused it as childish feelings he couldnât handle. Now the memory was fresh in his mind and the feeling was real and...awful.
His heart thumped in his chest and George realised he was holding his breath. He took a moment, slowly letting out his breath. His headache faded and he unclenched his jaw.
âIt was stupid childish things...â George mumbled. âBut...maybe...â
It was no secret George was adopted, found wandering at the edge of a village where his parents took him in. George had no interest to find his family, he found one with Sapnap and Dream. But he must have been left by someone. Why couldnât it have been a brother?
Before George worked himself into a bigger frenzy, he took in another breath. Heâd get nowhere thinking himself into circles. As much as he did not want to admit it, heâd only get his answers from one specific person.
âI need to talk to him...â
Admitting it out loud was easy but then actually planning for it already hit George with a snag. How was he supposed to contact him?
He had no idea where this God lived. Did he live anywhere? George didnât really pay attention to anything about him and the last thing he said to the guy was calling them strangers. Past George might have already foiled Georgeâs plans.
If all else failed he knew he could ask DreamXD. He seemed friends with HD and George could call XD to him as he used to and work from there. Though heâd honestly prefer no-one else involved.
Well...did he have to?
George could call on XD the same way Dream could. It was just an extension of the power shared between them. No matter where Dream was, XD could find him. A bond between a God and his brother.
It was a long shot of a chance, but it was the only option George could think of. He shut his eyes and focused. When heâd call on XD, he could just think it and he would respond. So with the same logic, George mentally called for HD and then slowly opened his eyes.
It wasnât answered right away. The forest was still and quiet but it seemed dimmer as though the sun was blocked by the clouds and the forest floor turned misty.
Right away it was clear it wasnât a normal mist. It had a slight blue tint in colour and while it slowly rolled over the roots of the trees it gathered close in front of George before a door slowly materialised from the mist.
It reminded George of a castle door. Tall, dark blue with the edges lined with gold. The mist formed more into cloud shapes on either side of the door, then they slowly opened and there was GeorgeHD.
The last time George remembered him, the strange God seemed out of sorts. As though heâd thrown on clothes and not cared for his appearance. Now he seemed more taken care of. His hair still a ruffled mess of stars, but it seemed more fluffed out and brushed. He wore a pale lilac robe with golden stars glittering over the fabric. His mismatched eyes looked hopeful but he reserved himself back. The room he stood in was like the entrance way to a grand palace. There was a display of stars, comets and planets in the middle of a spiral staircase behind him.
âI... I thought... I felt you...call...? For me?â HD spoke first. Voice so hopeful but hurt.
Cold anxiety gripped at Georgeâs throat for just a moment. The fear and grief took him for just a second then he cleared his throat and nodded. âI did. I wanted to...ask you some things.â
A gentle smile broke out on the Godâs face. Their cheeks brightened with an pink hue and they stepped just a bit. âYes! Of course. Come in!â
George stepped forward before the fear could stop him. He was out of the forest and the door closed behind him. The warmth of the sunlight was gone. The palace was cold.
âI can grab us something to drink and we can talk. Uh... C-Come this way.â
HD went to a doorway just off to the side of the spiral stairs. George followed cautiously after. It was a small room set up like a kitchen but more modest than what a kitchen for a castle would look like. There was a metal stove, wooden counters with various jars and walls lined with dried herbs. There was a table and chairs set up against the wall that HD motioned to. George took a seat while HD waved his hands. Cups materialised, jars opened and herbs floated to the cups.
George watched all the ingredients move, suddenly feeling awkward sat and waiting. He wanted to try and focus and think of the questions before HD returned but the only thing he could do was look at HD and beg his mind to try and just remember something.
When HD returned with two hot cups of some type of tea, George had no questions or memories ready, but he was feeling less awkward when he took the cup in his hands. It was nice to have something to warm him up.
âSorry I should have asked what you wanted.â HD sat opposite George. âItâs just regular tea.â
âItâs fine...â George mumbled. He decided he wasnât going to drink it, but it was good to keep him warm. âI have questions.â
âOf course.â HD nodded. âYes. Iâll answer what I can.â
His mind was a mess but George tried to push pass his feelings. âYou say weâre brothers. How did we get separated?â
HDâs face twisted to sadness. âI honestly canât remember. My memory is still hazy around the end of our time together.â
âBut youâre sure weâre brothers?â
âYes!â HDâs voice edged with a hint of desperation. âYes, we are. After I took XD here the memories came back. Some of them are hazy but I swear weâre brothers.â
âBut you just canât remember how we were separated?â George meant to ask it more in a clarification, but the tone came out more as accusing judging by the look on HDâs face.
âI do remember I grew tired a lot. My sleep wasnât the best even before I was a God, but when I was connected to the Overworld I got tired a lot. My best guess is I went to sleep and when I woke up you were gone.â
It wasnât a satisfying answer, but George could give some sympathy over the sleeping problems. In another mood, George would have joked he and HD would have the same problems with sleep.
âHow did you forget me?â
âThat would be from the sleep issue again. I remember I was in a loop of looking for you and falling asleep. Iâd look for you in my dreams. Then I woke up and would do the same. I couldnât tell when I was awake or asleep anymore and I couldnât tell when I started looking for you. But I tried to. I promise I did.â
George realised he was holding the cup a little too tightly, and eased off. âHow can you be so sure? What if you really were looking for a dream, and I just happened to look like them?â
âWhen we met those few weeks ago, one of my hands responded to you.â HD said and either in example or it responding to his call, a white ghostly hand appeared. George suddenly remembered it. At first he thought it had appeared to harm him, but now he laughed at the thought. The hand looked so small and soft.
âWhen it appeared...â HD continued. âIt was like instinct. I didnât know how at first until I came here and things just...clicked.â He gave a sorry look to George. âI know these probably arenât the answers you want to hear. I am sorry.â
It was annoying all his answers were fogged over by a cloud of amnesia but he didnât expect the answers to be easy. The tea in his hands was slowly losing itâs warmth. George gave himself until the tea turned cold. Then he would decide.
âThe way you spoke about it, you make it seem like you were narcoleptic. But you seem to be awake and fine just now.â George pointed out.
HD gave a sad smile. âIâm not...uh.â He ran his hand through his starry hair. George watched a few stars shoot through the strands. âIâm not connected to the Overworld as I once was. In the beginning it was no bother if I slept for days or months. But when you came along that was no longer an option. After you... After I lost you and couldnât really tell what was real or not anymore I left the Overworld. I went to a sort of between realm and slept for...probably years.â
âAnd now youâre just not connected to the world anymore?â George asked.
HD shook his head. âNo. Not in the way I was. Itâs different. I can feel the Overworld now but before it was like...like my breathing was itâs breathing. My heartbeat was its.â
George cast his eyes down to the table and tried to imagine such a feeling. He got tired just from a regular day. A day connected to everything in the world just sounded exhausting.
âI know it might not mean much since I donât remember anything but I am truly sorry George.â
George looked up and HD was looking to him with sad, soft eyes.
âIâm sorry George. Iâm sorry for losing you. Iâm sorry for not finding you. And Iâm sorry for forgetting you. If I had one chance Iâd fix it. Iâll try and fix this in anyway you need.â
He didnât know why, but Georgeâs thoughts first went to Sapnap. Rightfully angry over his scar, but the anger just made him bitter and resentful. George wondered if Sapnapâs brother offered the same apologies and the same promises. What couldnât a God offer for forgiveness?
The scheming part of George imagined all the diamonds he could ask for but even the joking thought did not bring him happiness.
The cup lay cold in Georgeâs hand now. It brought back the chill of the palace but George had made up his mind.
âCan I stay here? For a couple of days?â
HD looked shocked to the question. George was shocked himself. It was an option he was considering but even he wasnât sure if he would go through with it.
Well, he said it now. Heâd stick with it. âIf this place helped you get your memories back, maybe Iâll remember something too.â
He said it as an explanation but it was clear on HDâs face he didnât need any convincing. âYes! Of course! This isâwas your home too! Of course you can stay. Iâll-Iâll show you your room!â
It was a nervous excitement, but contagious in itâs joy. HD led George up the stairs, were the palace got darker but in a soft comforting way. The floor was a dark mist that kicked up glittery stars with every step. The ceiling was a night sky, slowly raining down golden stars that disappeared before they touched the ground. It was a magical fairyland and George was happy to just be in it for the moment.
HD pushed open a set of doors to a childâs bedroom. The floor was a plush light blue. The walls were a similar blue but the top faded out to a late morning sky shade. There were shelves pushed to the back wall, that held an assortment of toys, soft stuffed animals and books for children. There was a cradle in the centre of the room, settled in a golden crescent moon. At the tip of the moon there were stars hanging down.
âUh, sorry. I cleaned up but I didnât think. Here...â HD waved his hand and the crib slowly morphed. The moon shape was still there but it stretched out now to the size of a proper bed. The pillows multiplied and the sheets grew to fit the size of the bed.
âI-If you want to change it let me know.â HD added.
âNo. Itâs alright.â
George looked around the room again, willing himself to remember just something.
Anything.
But no.
Nothing.
He tried not to let the disappointment show, and instead turned to HD.
âI need to get some things from my home. I also need to tell Dream and Sapnap where Iâll be.â
âRight. Of course.â HD nodded. âThe front door will open to your cottage. Itâll stay there until you come back.â
The trip home and back was quicker than George thought. He only grabbed a few things, just enough to fit into a pack while telling Dream and Sap about the situation. They were trying to be understanding but worried.
âI feel like I pushed the idea on you...â Dream mumbled in his meek, sorry voice.
George paused for a moment before he responded. âMaybe you did. But it needed to happen at some point.â
Sapnap and Dream shared a look and a wordless conversation passed between the two.
âYou donât need to try and fix any relationship with him.â Sapnap reminded him.
âWeâre discussing it.â George quickly shut down the talk. âThis is just something I need to do. Whatever happens...well itâll happen.â
Worries still exchanged between them, but George was firm in his decision. âI just need to know you two wonât kill each other while Iâm away.â
âPffft! Of course we wonât!â Dream scoffed like the idea was ridiculous.
âWhat ever gave you that idea?â Sapnap asked in the same tone and put his arm around Dreamâs shoulders. âWeâre get along perfectly.â
âLike a house on fire.â Dream added.
George rolled his eyes. âJust make sure my house isnât on fire when I get back.â
Despite Georgeâs insistence he didnât need seen off like a child, the two followed him out, and marvelled at the huge castle door awaiting him. As it slowly opened HD stood in the middle of the open room again. His face lit up with a bright smile, like he was anxiously waiting. Like he didnât believe George would come back.
âHey, HD...â Dream awkwardly waved.
HDâs smile was warm. âHello Dream.â He greeted before looking to Sapnap. âAnd Sapnap. Iâm sorry our first meeting wasnât on the best terms.â
Sapnap just gives a hum in response. His stance firm and cagey. George wondered if his hate for his own sibling extended to all Gods but then heâs always been kind with XD.
The Dream Team shared another goodbye and George stepped through the doors. They closed behind him, with the warmth of the sun disappearing and the chill of the palace returning.
The tentative brothers headed back to Georgeâs room, as HD talked.
âThe palace is your home, you can go wherever you please. The kitchen will always be stocked for you.â
When they returned to Georgeâs room it had changed. The bed was still itâs new shape, but there were less toys and the books on the shelf had been replaced.
âI thought maybe you would appreciate the room being less childish. If you want anything else changed, just let me know.â
âItâs fine.â George quickly cut in. He learned quick for HDâs nervous rambling, and if he didnât cut in it would only continue. âThank you, HD. Itâs good.â
HD gave a wavering smile and left George to settle in his room. He placed down his pack and gently tested the bed. The mattress was unbelievably soft, like sinking into a cloud. The sheets and pillows were much the same.
George sat on his bed and tried to will his mind to remember something. Anything.
Nothing.
***
Settling into the palace was a lot easier than George would have thought. For the first day he stayed in his room as long as possible, reading over the titles of the books again and again before hunger called him out. He tiptoed down the stairs but saw the light from the kitchen glowing into the hallway.
After realising how dumb it was to try and avoid HD, who literally lived in the palace, George walked down the rest of the steps and carefully entered into the kitchen.
HD was in lighter robes than before; less golden accessories and in a soft blue tone now. He watched over a pot of something over the small hob fire before he quickly turned his head to the door.
âOh! George.â His lips pulled to a smile. He waved his hand and the fire over the hob simmered down. âI thought of calling for you but I wasnât sure if you were hungry. The kitchen is yours to use whenever you like of course. You can eat whenever.â
Georgeâs stomach made a growl he hoped HD couldnât hear. He looked to the pot over the hob. âYou...make food?â
âYes?â HD head slightly tilted to the question.
âArenât you a God. Canât you just snap your fingers and food appears?â
âAh... Sometimes I like to cook. If I need to think or...distract myself.â
HD answered almost sheepishly but George tried to politely ignore it and nodded. âDo you actually need to eat?â
âNot in the same way you or mortals would. I can feel hunger but itâs not like a pain. Itâs more like a craving than a need.â
âWhat are you making?â
HD turned his head slightly back to the pot. âJust some stew. Would you like some?â
George frowned just a little. âNo thanks.â
âIs there anything you do want? We can make it.â
âYouâve already made your stew though.â
HD raised his hand, waving it again and this time the fire went out, and the pot and anything in it disappeared.
âWhaâWhy? Youâve wasted your time!â
âTime I have abundance of.â HD shrugged. âWe can make whatever you want.â
There was a pressure now to choose, but George couldnât help smile to how silly it all was. It was a clear attempt to desperately bond with him, but it was endearing. âI... I donât know...â He quickly tried to think of anything he could cook with HD.
âI have some cookbooks in the pantry. You can have a look through them.â
Overly curious to find out what sort of cookbooks a God would have, George slipped off to the pantry. It was just a small space in the back of the kitchen, with shelved filled with various jarred food and one small shelf of cookbooks.
The books were not what George expected. They seemed very old. Old enough that if George even looked at them wrong, theyâd fall apart. They were also on the top shelf that George was not reaching. He could maybe get his fingers to the shelf but could not reach the books.
George huffed and stretched himself up to try again. He was still too short to grab it, but then as he pulled his hand back, one of HDâs white hands suddenly faded to existence. It reached up for the book George had been eyeing, gently pulling it out and slowly lowering it to Georgeâs waiting hand.
The hand stayed around, even as George gave it a wary look. He returned to the kitchen, book in hand and eyes on the hand until he turned to HD.
âIf you were going to use your weird hands you didnât really need my help.â
HD gave him a puzzled look before watching the white hand following after George. He seemed surprised for a moment. âOh. I never did that. It just responded to you.â
âResponded?â George asked and looked to hand. âHow? Donât you control them?â
âI do, but itâs more like instinct than a command. Like in your cottage when you were covered in flour. The hand appeared because you wanted the flour off you. It must have been something I set up before.â
George frowned. âYou donât remember?â
HD looked sad. âNo.â
His memories might have been fuzzy as a child, but George would have remembered if heâd ever had a weird helper hand around him. His parents would have freaked for sure and his escape attempts would have been more successful. Whatever happened in their separated severed the link this ethereal hand had to him.
It was getting far too quiet and George didnât like the tension. He quickly put the book down, and snapped HD from his thoughts.
âLetâs make something before I starve.â
The cookbook was surprisingly ordinary, but George couldnât complain. The food was good, and with them making something together it left no time for any silence. The conversations was kept to only food topics and even George could admit the evening was pleasant.
***
The next day, George curiosity to the hand slowly melted to a warm acceptance. At first it still caught him off guard. When he had a passing through that his pillow was uncomfortable the hand appeared to fluff it up. When he was hungry, the hand appeared with snacks. It answered every call of his no matter how small.
By midday George fully accepted the ethereal hand as another part of him.
As soon as George woke, he spent the day exploring the palace. He avoid any of the rooms upstairs, not wanting to enter HDâs room, and instead kept to the lower floor.
There were long empty rooms, with high windows looking out to the clouds and fancy couches in front of them.. A study like room with a desk and chair but the room was oddly bare apart from that. A long twisting room filled with artwork. Some paintings off the Overworld and a few of the Nether. There were a couple paintings of golden fields and floating islands that George had never seen before.
Finally George came upon the library. It was a tall room but small floorspace wise. Shelves of books pushed against the wall in the centre of a room there was a small reading space of soft chairs and long couches.
Curiosity pulled George to the books, wondering what books could be interesting enough for a God. The answer was surprisingly boring. It was mostly old books, majority fiction but there were some old travel books with maps and published journals of adventurers. George grabbed a few of them to read and while some of the old adventure books were interesting, nothing could keep his interest.
He was laying over the couch, flipping through the third book when he realised he wasnât really paying attention to it and took in none of the words. He closed the book, placing it down and huffed in irritation.
âIâm in a palace in the sky. How am I possibly bored?â
Maybe it was because George still felt uneasy about his own memories. Nothing was coming to him so the palace still felt cold to him. He could fill his time with small distractions but nothing worked.
George felt himself pout and was happy in that moment to be alone, when suddenly the little helper hand popped up.
George jolted in surprise for a moment then settled. âAre you as bored as I am?â
The hand gave no answer, just slowly hovered closer. George had a stray thought, wondering if the hand could relay messages to HD. Did he know George was bored, or was the hand just acting out of instinct to keep him company?
Just as George was thinking it was probably best to find HD, his side suddenly tingled and static, tickly shocks ran through his body. George jumped higher than he had when the hand startled him and gave a small âyipâ before he pushed himself up.
The helper hand had tasered his side.
âWh-Whahat the fuck!â Georgeâs voice was far from demanding as he wanted it. It tickled more that he was caught off guard. Just as he rubbed his side to be away of the ghost tickles, the hand had silently floated around and got under his arm.
It tickled for only a second until George laughed and rolled off the couch. He was worried for a moment landing on the books might have damaged them but then he didnât care when the hand followed him and tickled at his side again.
âGetâ!â George tried to yell but laughter overtook him. He smacked the hand away, but while the hand left his side, it went back in, attacking his stomach and up to his ribs this time.
âS-S-Stohop! Stohohop!â George threw his head back in laughter. He abandoned trying to smack the hand away and instead curled into a ball, protecting any spots the hands went for. When he defended one area, the hand pulled back and went for another.
âNotâ! Aha...NotâNOT THERE!â
The hand squeezed at his thigh and George made a move to grab it. It dodged the first attempt but it when it went back in for Georgeâs leg, he grabbed again and got it.
It should have been impossible for a hand to show expression yet George knew as he held it, it was trying to act innocent.
âWh-What the hell was that for?â His cheeks were red and his mouth breathless.
The fingers wiggled slightly in Georgeâs grip. A childish irritation bubbled in Georgeâs chest. He wasnât sure what he was going to do, and he never got to find out.
There was a door slamming from somewhere in the palace, and the air suddenly went cold.
George released the hand which faded right away and he slowly crept to the door. Everything was still for a moment as George tried to listen but he couldnât hear anything. Maybe the distant sounds of footsteps but they sounded heavy. Not HDâs.
A moment of panic surged Georgeâs thoughts that he quickly shook that away. No-one could just sneak into the palace without HDâs notice. They were a God, and the palace was in the clouds. Who or whatever was here was allowed in.
Trying to step as quietly as possible, George made his way down the hallway. He peeked into the front room, seeing no-one but now he could hear distant voices. One of them he was sure was HDâs. The other sounded louder but not angry.
Following the voices brought George to kitchen but then towards a set of doors he had never noticed before. The door was slightly open, letting in the shine of the sunlight. George kept himself at a distance to not be caught but found a perfect spot to stand beside the kitchen counter where he could see through the door just a bit.
It was an outside garden, bathed in the glow of the afternoon sun. Greens and a multitude of colours danced in the light. Between the colours he could see HD, standing by an elegant looking garden table and chair. In front of him was a tall figure George did not know, but recognised right away. His back was mostly to George but he moved and shifted on his feet as he talked. His wild hair of black and fire flicked, showing his horns and part of his face.
It was the Tall God who looked like Sapnap.
âYou were silent for days. The last time you said you were going looking for...and then you just didnât come back! I thought...â The Tall God spoke. His voice was deep with a rumble under the words. It reminded George of the way XD would speak, like there was always a voice under his own. But this Godâs voice was warm and while he sounded worried there was no edge of anger or bitterness.
âIâm sorry.â HD spoke calmly, but his face looked guilty. âIâm sorry I should have contacted you. Everything just happened so quickly with George. I was caught up in it.â
The Tall God sighed, but he didnât sound any more relaxed. âNo, I-I get it. I just...fuck I thought you were gone.â
His voice turned soft at the end. It made George think of a campfire. Warm and gentle. HD looked pained and took a step towards the God but he stopped himself.
âIâm sorry, 4K.â HD said, âBut itâs only a few days and Iâll be back to help again. I already spoke with the wardens and guards at the prisons. None of them know what it is. If you canât find any moreââ
âIâm not searching.â 4K quickly cut in. âI canâtâIâm not searching alone!â
âOkay, okay.â HD held his hand up to calm. âXD should still be able to help. Heâll know the layout of the Overworld better than me by now.â
âItâs not...I...â
The mood shifted as 4Kâs voice broke a little. HD tensed and took a slow step forward. âDid something else happen?â They carefully asked. When 4K didnât move or respond, they called out again. â4K?â
4K remained still but his shoulders hunched. A tense moment passed that felt like hours but was probably only a few seconds; then those shoulders relaxed.
âNothing. Everything is fine, HD.â His voice was warm again, but emotionless. âIâm just on edge. After... I-Iâll ask XD to look with me in the Overworld. You take your time with George.â
HD calmed then, but not completely. He looked to 4K with concern and a look George knew well. It was the look he had when he wanted to speak, but instead he would just nod and say âokay.â As HD just did.
There was a purple flash of something behind the door George couldnât see. 4K stepped into whatever it was, then he was gone. HD let out a slow sigh. âYou can come out now, George.â
There was a split second George considered sneaking away, but two of the white hands appeared and pushed open the doors to the garden. The light of the sun blinded George a moment before another hand pushed on his back and led him forward.
The garden was not as big as George first thought. It was a small internal courtyard, enclosed in the palace walls. There were tall trees on both sides of the doorway, arching over the cobblestone path. Around the trees were various flowers and plants, in an array of colours. In the middle was an elegant, marble looking garden table and set of chairs were HD stood.
George slowly walked in, enjoying the ray of the sun on his skin warming him for the moment and stopped at the other side of the table.
âDid you really think you could sneak up on two Gods?â HD placed a hand on his hip as he asked. He didnât seem angry, just more amused so George assumed he wasnât in trouble.
âI donât know...â George held back his shrug. âI wasnât trying to sneak up I just didnât know who was there. Then I didnât want to interrupt.â
âUh-huh.â HDâs tone didnât believe him. He lowered down to the chair slightly pushed out and George saw there was a small tray on the table, with tea and small cakes.
âD-Did he...4K? Did he also know I was there.â George asked.
âMost likely.â HD shrugged. âHe wouldnât have said anything he didnât want you to hear.â
The guilt and shame of being caught was pushed aside for the curiosity to 4K. George only saw him briefly before they went to save Dream and everything else he knew was from Sapnap. Which was he had scarred Sapnap and left him.
âHD... Did you know that 4K has a brother?â
HD gave him a look, and answered carefully. âYes.â
âDo you know their relationship?â
âI know they donât speak. And thatâs all I know.â
The tone was clear to shut George down, yet disappointment made him ask. âArenât you curious?â
âIt doesnât matter if Iâm curious or not. If 4K wanted to tell me, he would have.â HD waved his hand, and two plates appeared on the table. âIf you clean up the books in the library, you can join me.â
Hunger gnawed Georgeâs stomach and he realised he had not eaten yet. The small cakes suddenly looked delicious and fuelled his quick steps back to the library. When he returned back to the garden the sun was still warm, and the afternoon was peaceful. The chair opposite HDâs was pushed open and George slipped in.
âDid you have fun in the library? Read anything good?â HD asked while he ate a small cake.
âSome of them were. I was never much of a reader, though.â George tried to carefully word himself to not offend HD. He took one of the cakes HD pushed towards him.
âYou didnât get bored?â
It was a simple, common question and yet it made George pause. He looked at HDâs face for any sign he knew what went on but his face was stone and gave nothing away. âNo.â George shook his head. âMaybe a little until I heard 4K arrive. But the books were good.â
HD only nodded.
***
A sleep schedule for George was just whenever he was tired enough to collapse. Sometimes that would be normal, in the night when the moon was rising. Sometimes a little later. Sometimes heâd sleep all through the day and become a night owl. It didnât help that his stupid mushroom cheeks always gave him away.
The red and white splotches under his eyes would fade the more tired he got, and would grow more noticeable the longer he slept. And George could sleep for days sometimes.
Tonight it was a night that no matter how restful and soft Georgeâs bed was, he was not tired. His mushroom cheeks were fading slightly, but still held a slight redness to them. He had no mirror to check but George could always just feel it like it was another sense to him.
George tossed and turned but he wasnât sleeping. He had learned if he tapped on one of the moon shapes hanging over his bed it would give him a small light and tried to read for a while, but he was too on edge to focus on the words. He next tried to kick off the covers, and pull his grass cloak over him as a blanket and for a moment, it worked.
During packing, George had debating taking the cloak with him. For no other reason than he thought it felt childish. It had served more as a comfort blanket than a cloak through his life, but in the end he convinced himself there was no harm in it and packed it for the stay. A decision he was he was now glad for.
No matter how fast his mind was spinning, the cloak could calm him down. But it couldnât make him relax.
A last ditch attempt was made and George decided heâd take a walk till he was tired enough to crash out.
The palace was cold naturally and at night it was eerily still. The walls already a dark blue blended to the clouds outside. Everything felt colder which was just another reason George was thankful for his cloak. He pulled it tight around his shoulders and stepped out of his room.
HDâs room was opposite Georgeâs, on the other side of the top landing. The doors were closed and George quickly moved on before curiosity could decide for him. Since he spent the day downstairs exploring, he instead kept to the top floor.
George found himself wandering to a long hallway stretched to the other end of the palace. The windows reached from the floor to the high ceiling and covered almost every inch of the wall. They looked out to the night clouds, which shone a pale silver with the moonâs light. He took a few steps down, wondering what other rooms this place could hold when he stopped and noticed HD was not asleep in his room as George had thought.
HD was sat on the build in seat to one of the windows. He was propped up with pillows, his back to the wall and legs up on the seat as he was half lying down. He had a book in his hand which took his attention until he noticed George and he sat up slightly.
âHey...â HD called out. âIs something wrong?â
âI was just taking a walk.â George quickly answered before HD could worry. âI couldnât sleep.â
HD relaxed then and George noticed the book more clearly now. It was less like a book, more like a album âWhat are you reading?â
HDâs smile turned soft. He pushed himself up, binging his legs down and shuffled over on the seat. He pat the cushions beside him and George carefully moved over. When he sat down, HD placed the album down on his lap and flipped the pages back to the start.
âThis is my familyâs history.â
Georgeâs eyes widened and suddenly his politeness was genuine interest. âMorganâ was the name in bold fancy letters at the top of the page. There was an illustration of a crest with thistle below. HD turned the pages, and were a few names written, along with very minimal portraits and blueprints of a home.
âIs...were you a human? Like...before?â
HD shook his head. It was only the two of them in the palace, but his voice was softer in the night. âNo.â He paused and then asked. âDo you know what a fae is?â
George had heard the name before. Mostly said by angry adults and in the whispers of gossip. âSort of. Iâve heard people talk about them. I thought they were just made up stories.â
âTheyâre not a common sight anymore.â HD agreed. âTheyâre creatures, not quite human. They live in their forests, separated from the Overworld by the thinnest veil. In the past it was more common to see them. Faeâs are tricksters and people would be cautious around them. I was a fae, before I was a God.â
It shouldnât have been a surprise the way things were going, yet George felt the weight of the reveal all the same. The idea that a God was once mortal, or as close to a mortal as a fae was anyway. âSo...were your family fae?â
HDâs smile turned sad. âNo. Itâs... It might be complicated to explain. Some faefolk when they have children theyâll leave them to a human family or swap places with a human child. When I was a baby I was left to my family. They raised me, until I was a young man and the faeâs came for me.â
HD flipped a page. Another few simple drawings and more names. There were notes over the pages of childrenâs names, and childrenâs childrenâs names. Who married who and what families joined together. In the corner of the right page, there was a piece of cloth stuck into the book and a note above. The family had taken up weaving as a profession. The next few pages were filled with old pieces of cloth and drawn in pattern designs.
âBut... Did you leave them? The ones that raised you?â George asked.
âFor a while,â HD turned another page. More drawings of patterns, clothes and a loom littered around the page but now there were names between them. âI went to the faes for a time, but I longed for my family. I returned back to them.â
âDid they take you back?â
âThey did. I wasnât sure they would. Theyâd have every right to mistrust me, but I returned and they accepted me with open arms. I stayed with them.â
Another page turned but this time loose papers were stuffed between the pages. They were drawings. Paintings and illustrations of a home and people. When HD moved some of them away, there was more underneath. Detailed paintings of men and women like miniature portraits.
âThese were my family.â HD gently handed one of the paintings to George. He was terrified to even look at the painting wrong, but gently held it as carefully as he could. It was of an older woman, with long silver hair and smiling sweetly. âShe was my grandmother.â
HD flipped through some of the paintings. Each of a family member. His mother and father, a brother and two sisters, one older and one younger he said. Each smiling in the portrait with eyes full of love.
âI painted these for the album.â HD pulled out more parchment. Some were paintings of what George guessed was their family home. Others were small ink illustrations. Quick sketches of days out or the family performing mundane activities. His sister by the loom working. His father and brother readying for a hunt. His grandmother and mother talking by the fire.
The pictures were so full of life, and George realised HD was is none of them. He could capture small moments of life with his family, but he could never be in the illustrations or paintings himself.
âYouâre...really good at drawing.â George said to distract from the sad thought, but it was also true.
âWell Iâve not drawn in years.â HD shrugged as his cheeks tinted a red. âIt was an old hobby.â
âNo, but itâs really good.â George said again, carefully placing the paintings together. The canvas paper they were on was old, but it was well taken care of. George wasnât a creative soul, but he could still appreciate art.
HD had loved his family so fiercely. Were they still around? Did their ancestors still live? George wanted to ask but when he glanced to the album to hand back the paintings, he got his answer.
The pages that held the paintings were blank otherwise. No names, no drawings. Nothing after his family and even the paintings and illustrations all stopped suddenly. The family never growing older.
Were they...gone?
George wasnât sure he should ask, until he gave a glance to HDâs face and knew then he should leave it alone. There was a deep sadness in his eyes, looking over the illustrations again like holding onto the memory.
It wasnât exactly jealousy George felt, but some sort of twisted emotion coiled in his chest. HD was loved with his family. Georgeâs parents hadnât even liked him, much less loved him. Sometimes George even wondered why they had taken him in, if they hated him so.
Georgeâs arms burned as they usually did when thinking of his parents. He scratched at his arms a little but the wraps just irritated his skin. He was trying to think of an excuse to leave so he could unwrap when HD noticed him scratching.
âDo your injuries still hurt?â
The question caught George off guard for a moment it distracted him from the burning. âH-Huh?â
âYour injuries from the Egg? Are they still bothering you?â HD nodded his head to Georgeâs wrapped up arms. âI can heal them for you, if you like.â
âOh...n-no thereâs nothing to heal...â Of course to anyone else who hadnât met him, the wraps would just look like bandages. âMy arms are just...weird.â
George was already unwrapping his arms instead of explaining. The red and white splotches slowly unravelled and George had to look away. Instead he looked up to HD who watched with rounded eyes as the arms became seen.
âSee? Weird.â
HD looked at the arms, but it wasnât in confusion or disgust as most had seen them. He looked almost bewildered then wordlessly brought forward his own arm. He pulled up the sleeve of his robes, revealing his own arm and now Georgeâs eyes went wide.
HDâs arms were marked with small green splotches, much like Georgeâs own with the red and white. Only HDâs arms had tiny leaves growing out from his skin. There were some small buds, growing from his skin, but other fully grown leaves were still small enough they lay over HDâs arm without disturbance.
âI remembered you having your mushroom cheeks when you were little. I think you must have had them on your arms too. It never crossed my mind.â HD smiled gently then as he had his arm beside Georgeâs.
Georgeâs heart thumped as suddenly a memory flooded him. Well, it wasnât exactly a memory. It was like remembering something he had no memory of. George knew what those leaves felt like.
Their arms were not touching, but George had felt those leaves between his fingers, when his hands were smaller and the leaves seemed so much bigger. He knew their scent and taste before someone would chastise him and pull the leaves from his small mouth. His mind filled in the voice as his parents but it couldnât have been. The voice was gentle. The voice loved him.
âGeorge.â
HDâs voice snapped him from the memory and George looked up. His heart still thundered in his chest, worse now under the careful expression of HD.
âWhere did you get that cloak?â
His hand gripped to the cloak for some form of self soothing. The soft grass against his palm calmed him. âIâve always had it.â He said slowly.
HD touched the edge of the cloak, feeling the grass between his fingers. âIt used to be mine...â He almost whispered. âI thought Iâd lost it years ago. Around when...â
His lips still moved but his voice was gone. Like a river rushing through his ears, George couldnât hear or even think properly. His mind pulled together pieces of a long buried memory.
His arms stinging from bruises. His little lungs burning. His face was scratched from the twigs and branches as he ran through the forest. But if he didnât run, the man and woman would catch him.
The memory didnât know what he was looking for, but the feeling in that moment was important. Like if George didnât find it, he would die.
He ran and ran and ran and then he came upon the grass cloak. He ran to the cloak and grabbed it tightly. He remembered how warm it felt and how instantly it comforted him. He remembered shouting something out into the forest and then he was grabbed by the man and woman chasing him.
He fought and shouted as much as he could, but he didnât start screaming until they tried to take the cloak from him. Between the screams he heard them talking about throwing the cloak away, or burning it. George cried so hard his whole body retched and ran out of air.
The man and woman â his parents â decided it was easier just to let him have it. They could hide a cloak easy enough and if it kept him calm even for a few moments theyâd take it.
He stopped his screaming but George was carried back to that home crying. He was put into the unfamiliar room with the cloak still clutched in his hands. He lay on the floor with the cloak wrapped around him. He clung onto the lasting warmth and familiar scent for as long as he could.
It smelt like home.
It smelt like HD.
âI was looking for you...â
George finally spoke again and his voice nearly broke. He felt a tear run down his cheek.
âWhat?â HD noticed the tears then. âGeorge!â
âI was looking for you all that time.â George repeated. âI remember. I... I-I canâtâI donât remember but I know... I was running away, trying to get back to the forest and find you!â
It was a lost jigsaw piece finally slotting in and completing the puzzle. He was never just running to run. His tantrums werenât just from his stubbornness. He had lost his brother. The last time he had seen him was in the woods so Georgeâs only logic to follow was if he went back into the woods, heâd find HD. When he had ran and found the cloak he had assumed HD must have been nearby. He was screaming for him as his new parents dragged him away. He was crying for his brother.
âI forgot you!â George was breathless. His chest felt tight. He couldnât breathe.
âHey! Woah, just calm down.â HDâs hands were on his shoulder.
âHow did I forget?!â He couldnât breathe and his voice broke again. It felt like he was about to throw up but his throat felt closed and choked.
All of a sudden George was pulled in to a tight hug. His head rested over HDâs shoulder and hands rubbed at his back. The tightness in his throat eased. HD smelled like spring wildflowers and grass. It was the scent that calmed him as a child. The scent that used to be with the cloak.
The tears fell then and despite his best attempt George couldnât hold back his sobbing. His body shook with his cries, but HD held him gently. His cheek rested over Georgeâs head and his hands were comforting and patting his back. George was catching his breath when he realised he was being moved.
HD had moved the book off his lap and was lifting George into his arms. George felt like a child but in that moment he didnât care. Years worth of grief and loss crashed into him and he felt like a ton of bricks. But HD lifted him like he was weightless.
George didnât see where they were going till he was set down onto a bed. It wasnât his own bed but a bigger one, with sheets that moved like clouds. When he was placed down it was like he sank into the bed, as though it had made a small divot for him.
His face was wet and George wiped his eyes and cheeks. He sniffled as HD sat on the bed beside him. His hair was pushed out of his face and HD smiled.
âYouâd sleep in a little cloud divot beside me sometimes. Do you remember that?â
Vaguely George did. He remembered being so little he had to climb up to the bed and there would be a small space for him to lay while HD would nap.
âYes... Prime, this is stupid.â George wiped his face again. It was funny and stupid how one little memory suddenly unlocked years worth of forgotten things. âHow could I forget that?â
âYou were young. Itâs understandable.â HDâs voice was soft still and he brushed Georgeâs hair gently. âAnd I forgot too. Trust me, whatever you are feeling George, Iâve felt it.â
His heart was a mess with feelings of shame and elation. A weight lifted from his shoulders but there was still so many questions to answer.
Well, now they could find the answers together.
âI used to try run from my parents to the woods.â George started talking. He worried it might set him off again, but while there were still tears he didnât sob. âI wouldnât get far but... I donât even know why theyâd bother to bring me back.â
HD lay down on the bed beside him. âDo you remember how your parents found you?â
George shook his head. âI think I was wandering in the woods and stumbled into a village. But that was a lot of my early memories. I donât... I canât really remember when I stopped trying. It was just easier to not fight.â
HD frowned. âWere your parents unkind to you?â
George wasnât sure how to answer. âIn a way...â
âDid they hurt you?â
The words became difficult to say. George never liked talking about his parents, even with Dream or Sapnap. They had never given him a beating but there were marks and years of self-doubt they had to answer for. Even if it wasnât physical, it was abuse and saying it out loud wasnât easy.
As soon as he could leave he was gone and they never came after him. Raising him was more like an obligation but it was one they chose themselves. Why?
Another tear ran down his cheek but was wiped away. George blinked and looked up to see one of the ethereal hands above him. It waved slightly, wiggling its fingers in an over-exaggerated manor.
A memory clicked in his mind. The white hands above him keeping him entertained. Theyâd wave at him and make shapes with each other.
The hand poked at his cheeks, drawing George from his memory. He bat weakly to the hand.
âTheyâd keep you entertained as a child.â HD spoke fondly. âTheyâd play with you then.â
âWell theyâre annoying me now.â George was smiling as he spoke and the hand poked his cheek again. He tried to swipe at it and it floated up out of reach. He reached up to hit it away, and another hand appeared and tweaked his ribs.
George squeaked as HD smiled. âTheyâd do that too.â
George protected his ribs and opened his mouth but the hand tickled on his other side. George grabbed at it, but as it quickly flew back and waved tauntingly at him, another hand appeared and tickled at his ribs again.
âNO!â George arched and jumped.
âYou fall for it the exact same way.â HD cooed.
âH-HEeheDeehe!â George squeaked as one, two, three, more hands than he could count through his squinting eyes appeared and descended. It was not a rough, wrestling kind of tickling he expected but instead it was soft.
Fingers caressed and fluttered over his sides, ribs and stomach. No matter how he waved his arms and hit them away, the hands would leave and then gently float back like feathers.
âT-Tehell them to stooohohop!â
âAnd deprive them of your adorable giggles? That seems cruel.â HD said, amused and smiling.
One of the hands got to the spot right were Georgeâs ribs met his stomach and the giggles turned into a hiccuped squeal. He managed to grab one of the hands, but two more took itâs place.
George threw his head back, kicked his legs and his hands squeezed the white ethereal hand he still held. His nails scratched just lightly over the palm.
The hands all paused at once and HD gave a breathy, giggly gasp. George took in breathes with the break of tickling. His mind whirled and connected the dots but his train of thought was cut off as his waist was grabbed and he was pulled into more waiting tickling hands. This time only two, and flesh instead of ethereal.
âPlease!â George gasped. âNot agahahain!â
âTickle, tickle, tickle...â HDâs voice cooed right by his ear. Fingers pinched up his sides, skittered down his ribs and fluttered by his ear. George could try push them off but his strength melted away with his laughter.
âS-Sto...haha...stooohohop!â
âHmm, we should stop. You are getting tired.â
The hands fluttered off, leaving George giggling and rubbing his sides. The hands came back and while George tensed in anticipation, they just cupped his face this time. George bravely opened his eyes as thumbs brushed over his cheeks.
âYour mushroom cheeks are almost gone.â
Thumbs brushed over his cheeks again. HD held his face so gently and smiled so softly. His eyes were fond and wet with emotion. He was happy.
âYouâre getting tired.â
âIâm n-nohot...â
There was no point denying it. Georgeâs eyelids were heavy, and the only thing holding back his yawns were his giggles. HDâs hands were soft and tickled lightly over Georgeâs face. He was already so sensitive from the tears and tickling before. He couldnât help but giggle whenever the thumb would swipe over.
âYes you are...â HD cooed. âYour mushroom cheeks are slowly disappearing. Slowly being wiped away.â
âI knohow what youâre d-dohoing...â
âIâm not doing anything.â
Was this how he got George to sleep when he was young? It felt familiar in a safe way. He had been here before? Coaxed into sleep and fighting against it just to stay awake with his brother for a few minutes more.
But even without seeing them, he knew the red and white spots were fading. His eyes were opening slower and slower and HDâs hands were gone, replaced with a soft cloudy pillow.
âSleep, Little Prince.â
The grass cloak was pulled to his shoulder and George slipped into a sweet sleep.
âWelcome home.â















