#muffinteers

"At least it's just Dream," George points out, which feels odd to say, but it's true. Dream's a deadly fighter and he has tried to kill them before but he also does his best to avoid risking any injuries. He's not gonna fight Sapnap in a situation where he doesn't have an easy escape route; a cave system is not Dream's ideal playing field. "We should split up or we're never gonna find him."

Bad frowns, his tail lashing back and forth. "Splitting up is not a good idea. How will we find each other again?"

George shrugs. "Mine back up to the surface and find the river again? It's an easy landmark."

"I guess," Bad mutters, turning to the path on the left. "I'll head this way."

George nods, turning and heading down the other path. He doesn't like the idea of splitting up, but he's skilled enough to fight mobs, and Sapnap was right behind Dream. There's no chance of him running into their target alone.

The tunnel is dark and twisting, heading deeper and deeper underground. Even though George is used to caves, he can't help but feel relived when it finally opens up into a much larger space.

He can hear the groaning of a zombie in the distance, followed by the clattering of a skeleton falling to pieces as it is hit by a weapon. He tightens his grip on his sword and creeps towards the sounds, hating how he can't hear Dream and Sapnap exchanging taunts.

Sapnap better be okay. If he got himself killed, I'll figure out a way to bring him back to life so I can kill that idiot again.

He peeks around the corner, spotting Sapnap's familiar outfit as the hunter fights several mobs. Dream is nowhere in sight.

"George?" Sapnap blurts out, ducking behind his shield as a witch's potion splashes against it. "Help me, asshole!"

George charges into the fray, killing a skeleton that had its bow aimed directly at Sapnap's back. They move to stand closer to each other, working as a team to protect each other's blind spots.

"Where's Dream?" George asks, lashing out with his sword to drive away an approaching spider. "Did you lose him?"

"He's too fast!" Sapnap complains. "I have no idea where he went, but he's long gone. Otherwise he would've finished me off before these mobs could."

George opens his mouth, prepared to scold Sapnap for running off like that, but he's taken by surprise when a potion bottle flies towards him and shatters against his arm.

"Shit!" He yelps, nearly dropping his sword as he shakes his arm to try and get rid of the liquid, but it seeps into his skin before he can do anything about it, which isn't a good sign. It's some kind of status effect potion. Maybe slowness? "Sapnap-"

He blinks, but when he opens his eyes, everything is dark and hazy, like there's a shadow creeping over his vision. Another blink and his vision is gone altogether, nothing visible no matter where he looks.

Rotting fingers grab onto his arm and he lashes out wildly with his sword, managing to stab the monster until it lets go. He loses his balance and falls over, blindly feeling around for his sword, but he can't find where he dropped it.

"Sapnap?" George cries, his breath hitching as he scoots away from the zombie noises. "Sapnap, I can't- I can't see-"

The zombie groans and falls over, hitting the ground with a heavy thump. George flinches away from the approaching footsteps until he recognizes the panting breaths.

"You can't what?" Sapnap asks, sounding exhausted. George reaches out with a hand, tightly grabbing onto the leg of Sapnap's pants when he finally makes contact with his friend.

"I can't see," George forces out, using his free hand to pull his goggles off and scrub at his eyes. It doesn't help. "I can't- Sap, I can't see you, I don't-"

"Okay, okay, calm down." Sapnap sounds unsure, not used to filling this role in their group. It's normally Bad who intervenes when emotions run high. "What happened? Was it the witch?"

George weakly nods, listening to the sound of fabric rustling as Sapnap seems to kneel next to him. Sapnap's hands are warm as he cups George's cheeks in his palms, tilting his head to the side and leaning close enough that George can feel breath on his face for a moment.

"Your pupils are really big," Sapnap mutters, leaning away. "Shit. We should get you to the surface."

"Do you have any milk?" George asks, his shoulders hunching as he does his best to focus on Sapnap's voice and not the sounds of distant mobs. He trusts Sapnap, he knows Sapnap will protect him, but it's terrifying to be completely reliant on his hearing right now.

Silence, then Sapnap weakly chuckles. "Shit, sorry, I shook my head. No, I don't. I'd rather not wait around for more mobs to show up, so let's just go."

George reluctantly stands up, twitching away from the object Sapnap holds out until he recognizes the hilt of his sword.

"I can't carry you, you're gonna have to walk," Sapnap says after a moment. "Just. . .grab onto my shirt or something."

George sheathes his sword and tangles his fingers in the back of Sapnap's shirt, stumbling along behind him as he begins to walk. Normally he'd make some kind of joke about Sapnap being too short to carry him, but- he can't. It's impossible to think of anything to say when he's so focused on every step he takes.

He hates the tight squeeze of the tunnel, his breath hitching every time his foot slips. He's glad Sapnap doesn't tease him for it; normally their banter is enjoyable, but right now it would just stress him out even more.

"Where's Bad?" Sapnap asks as they step into a slightly more open space. If George is remembering things correctly, they must be where the tunnel first split into two parts. "Wasn't he with you?"

"We split up to find you," George mumbles, realizing that he hates the open space even more than the tight tunnel. At least in there, he knew there wasn't any chance of something lurking somewhere else in the room. "He went to the left."

Sapnap falters, seeming to think. ". . .okay. You stay here, I'll go find him."

"No!" George yelps as soon as Sapnap steps away. "He can go back to the surface on his own, I can't- you can't leave me alone down here!"

"I don't have time to take you up to the surface and besides, you're safer down here than you would be up there at night," Sapnap promises, gently unhooking George's fingers from his shirt so they can hold hands for a moment. "We killed all the mobs down here, you'll be fine, but Bad could be in danger. The tunnel Dream ran down after those mobs cornered me went to the left."

Dream. The thought of Dream finding him like this makes him shudder. Dream usually runs from Sapnap, yes, but not from him or Bad. He's certain Dream would use this as a chance to eliminate one of his hunters as soon as he realized that George is in no position to defend himself.

"You're sure Dream went that way?" George hisses, his shoulders hunching as Sapnap guides him to take a seat by the wall.

"Yes," Sapnap says. "I can't leave Bad to fight him alone. We'll come right back for you, I promise."

"I-" George swallows, nervously tightening his grip on Sapnap's hand. "I still don't like it."

"I know, but I'll be quick." Sapnap pulls his hand free. "If you come with me and Dream's there, he'll target you. You have to stay here."

George weakly nods, but his throat tightens as he hears Sapnap's footsteps move away.

"Just stay right here," Sapnap repeats. George hates that he sounds nervous too. "Don't fuckin' move. I'll be right back."

George brings his legs closer to his chest, tightening his grip on the handle of his sword as he listens to Sapnap's footsteps fade away. Being alone is infinitely more terrifying; he hadn't realized how much of a comfort Sapnap's presence was until now.

It'll be okay, he tells himself. Dream's deep in the tunnels gathering diamonds, Bad's fine, they'll be back soon.

The silence is eerie even though it should be a comfort. He can't help but glance around blindly, desperately hoping that the potion will wear off on its own, but as minutes pass he becomes more and more convinced that the effects will remain until he finds the antidote.

I hope milk works. It should work, right? It works to remove most potion effects.

His thumb rubs circles against the hilt of his sword, tracing the same pattern over and over again as he tries to keep his breaths calm and even.

How long has it been? Surely more than ten minutes, right? Sapnap said he'd be right back but if Bad's in trouble, it might take a while.

George has no desire to try and go searching for them. Even if it takes a few hours for them to return, he's gonna sit right here and refuse to move, because if he wanders he's certain he's just gonna get himself lost.

Distant footsteps, the sound of leather boots scuffing against stone. George stiffens, tilting his head as he tries to listen.

He can't tell if it's Sapnap. He can't even tell if they're coming up the left tunnel or the right one.

It has to be Sapnap, right? It's definitely a person, because a zombie would be groaning and a creeper has twice as many legs.

The footsteps near the end of the tunnel and then they pause. George swallows, licking his lips.

"Sapnap?" He hesitantly whispers, his eyes wide as he strains to see into the darkness.

"Not quite."

A yelp slips out of George's mouth and he scrambles to his feet, clumsily pointing his sword in the direction of Dream's voice. His heart is racing loud enough that he wouldn't be surprised if Dream can hear it too.

"What are you doing here all alone, George?" Dream asks, taking a small step to the side. George does his best to track the movement with the point of his sword, using his other hand to pull his goggles back down over his eyes because if Dream figures out that he's not actually looking at anything. . . "Aww. Did you get lost?"

Dream's voice slips into that mocking coo he uses whenever he chases them around for fun, which is not a good sign. It means that Dream feels confident to turn the hunt into a game.

"I'm not lost," George snaps, fighting to keep his voice steady. "Sapnap and Bad are on their way back."

He can't see what Dream is doing, can't see if Dream is just standing there or if he's crouched and ready to charge forward.

Dream chuckles. "Oh, I passed them in the tunnels a few minutes ago. They're a bit. . .distracted. Why aren't you with them?"

Footsteps advance and George backs up, startling when his shoulders hit the wall. Dream lets out a wheezy laugh.

"You're extra jumpy today," Dream points out. "Why?"

"Fuck off," is all George says in response, refusing to lower his sword. Dream is fast, Dream could beat him in combat even without this disadvantage, but maybe Dream won't want to waste the time fighting him.

Hah, that's bullshit. If he didn't wanna waste time, he wouldn't be talking to me right now.

"Come on, Georgie," Dream says, practically purring the words. "Is it because you're all alone? Or because you have nowhere to run?"

"I can handle myself just fine. Don't you wanna go up to the surface?" George asks, his voice sharp. "I'll- I'll let you go up there without a fight, yeah? Does that sound fair?"

"You'll let me?" Another step, then a pause. ". . .something's wrong. You're acting weird. Why are you acting weird?"

"I'm- I'm not acting weird," George stammers, trying to figure out exactly how close Dream is. "You're acting weird."

"No, you definitely are." George can hear Dream shift his weight, rocking back onto his heels for a moment. "You're normally a lot more. . .determined than this. And louder. You're normally much louder. Why don't you wanna fight me?"

"Why would I want to fight you?" George spits.

"Well, normally you do," Dream says with a quiet hum. "Or, well, normally you won't refuse to fight me. But now you're telling me to just walk past you?"

George jerks back when Dream's boots scuff against the ground a bit more roughly, his sword coming up in a more defensive position, and Dream lets out a low 'ohhh' like he's just realized something.

"You're scared," Dream realizes. "Like, actually scared. But why now? I've run into you alone in the past and you've been scared, sure, but not like this. What's different this time?"

"You're creepy," George shoot back. "I'm not some kind of parkour jump to figure out, stop analyzing me like that!"

"To be fair. . ." Another step. He's probably close enough for George to hit now. "You guys are trying to kill me. It would be stupid for me to not try and figure out as much as I can."

George lets out a shaky breath. "Dream. . ."

"George," Dream responds when George trails off.

"Just go to the surface." George does his best to keep his voice firm, trying to prove Dream wrong. I'm NOT scared, I'm NOT an easy target. "Even if you win this fight, it won't be worth it. Sapnap will never stop hunting you down."

Dream scoffs. "He's already hunting me down. And it would be dumb of me to pass up such a perfect opportunity to get rid of one of you guys. You've caused me plenty of trouble with your stupid little bow."

The only warning George gets is the sound of Dream's axe cutting through the air as he lifts it up and lunges forward. George cries out, relying on his instincts from years of hunting to lift his sword and block the attack, his arms shaking against the force of the blow.

The pressure disappears as Dream draws back for another swing and George frantically scans his memory, trying to guess where Dream will attack from next. He's slightly to my left, he likes to aim for limbs and shoulders to try and slow us down before going for more lethal hits-

He makes a guess and guards his left shoulder, grimacing when Dream's axe hits near the tip of his sword at an awkward angle. It bends his wrist painfully and he's honestly surprised he manages to keep from dropping it at the sharp burst of pain that shoots up his arm.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Dream had left space for George to recover in between each attack, a sharp contrast to the quick flurry of blows he always exchanges with Sapnap. He's drawing this out on purpose, trying to have fun with it, and George is still only barely managing to hold his own.

A low whistle makes George jump, his shoulders tensing up as he prepares to block the moment he hears Dream move.

"Sloppy," Dream remarks. His tone is difficult to read. "Normally you're better than this."

I have no idea how he hasn't managed to piece it together yet, but. . .blindness potions are rare. I don't think I've ever seen a witch use one before. He's probably not even considering it as a possibility.

"Just leave me alone," George snaps, his thoughts frantic as he tries to figure out how to get out of this. I can't run, I can't fight. Somehow I have to convince Dream not to kill me. "You-"

He hears the movement too late; he doesn't even have time to try blocking it. The axe hits his right arm near the elbow and even though it feels like Dream pulled back at the last moment, it still fucking hurts.

A pained screech slips out of George's mouth, his whole body jerking away from the source of the pain until his shoulders hit the stone wall behind him hard enough to bruise. He can already feel warm blood soaking into the sleeve of his shirt and when he tries to tuck his arm closer to his chest, it struggles to bend properly.

"How did you not block that?" Dream sounds almost mad, like he's offended that George messed up. "What is wrong with you?"

"What is wrong with you?" George hisses, his chest heaving as he holds his sword up in a defensive position. "Go away!"

Silence. George bites his lip to try and quiet his breathing, his whole body tense as he tries to anticipate Dream's next move.

"Hit me." Dream's voice is a challenge.

George swallows, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. ". . .what?"

"Hit me," Dream repeats. George can hear something but he can't quite place the sound. "Look, I'll even make it easy for you. I've put my axe away."

That matches the sound George just heard, but he still doesn't like it. This is obviously a trick and he has no desire to play along with Dream's games.

"Come on, George," Dream complains. "You aren't even gonna try?"

"Leave me alone," George whispers, refusing to budge. "I'm not doing it."

A rock skitters across the ground and George flinches, pointing his sword in that direction.

"Wrong way, Georgie." George sucks in a startled breath, aiming his blade towards the voice. "Can you really not see me?"

"Obviously I can see you," George quickly denies. "It's just- it's dark."

It has to be dark, right? He can't hear the flame of a torch, and he remembers this area being only dimly lit by glowing moss when coming through here early.

"It's not that dark," Dream mutters. "Hit me, George."

George slowly shakes his head and Dream lets out a rough, frustrated snarl, taking a step closer.

"We can do it your way if you want, George, but you won't win that fight," Dream warns. "So you'd better take this chance I'm giving you-"

George lunges forward, trying to catch Dream off guard, but his sword slices through empty air. He whirls around, prepared to block an attack, but there's nothing. By the time he thinks to go still and listen for footsteps, Dream has already stopped moving.

Shit.

He's standing in the middle of the room, his back is no longer to a wall, and he has no idea where Dream is.

This is why he was trying to trick me into attacking him, isn't it.

George releases a trembling breath, taking a small step backwards, glancing around wildly even though he can't fucking see.

". . .Dream?"

Nothing.

"Dream, listen-" His elbow bumps against something solid and he shrieks, clumsily lashing out with his sword. It clangs against the stone wall and the sound echoes through the cavern.

The sound nearly drowns out Dream's footsteps, but it's not quite loud enough to completely cover them. George spins around, raising his sword and pointing it in that direction.

"Go," George tries to order, but it comes out as something more akin to a plea. "Just- let me go."

"You really can't see." The voice is too close and George swings his sword, scowling when he hears Dream hop backwards. "How did that happen?"

George desperately hopes the interest in Dream's voice is just because he enjoys solving mysteries and not because he's eager about this turn of events.

"At first I thought maybe you had some kind of head injury, a concussion or something, which would explain some of your behavior," Dream continues. "But no, you actually can't see?"

George stabs at the empty air, hissing through his teeth, a terrified exhalation of breath.

"My friends will be here any second, you've wasted too much time," George says, hoping it's the truth. "You'd better go."

"Why don't you call for them?" Dream taunts, sounding far too smug. "Let's see if they come running."

"Sapnap!" George immediately screeches, trying to call Dream's bluff. "Sapnap, Bad, help-"

A hand roughly grabs onto his left arm, fingers curling all the way around his wrist and tugging him to the side until he stumbles. He strains against the grip, trying to free himself so he can use his sword, but Dream refuses to let go.

"Drop your sword, George," Dream hisses, thumb digging into George's pulse point until tears well up in the corners of his eyes. "Drop it."

"Sapnap, please," George cries, truly desperate now as he throws himself backwards, nearly sending them both tumbling to the ground in his attempts to escape. "Dream, don't, don't."

Dream's other arm hooks around his neck, pulling him close until his back is pressed against a broad chest. George chokes, kicking his legs as he tries to reach up and claw at Dream's arm with his right hand, but it hurts too much to lift his arm at that angle.

The sword slips out of his left hand; as soon as Dream releases his tight grip, George staggers to the side, weakly coughing.

"There we go," Dream murmurs, the sword scraping against the ground as he picks it up. "So. How'd this happen?"

I need to stall, to buy myself more time. Him letting me go is a bad sign, not a good one.

"None of your business," George spits, slowly stepping backwards until he finds a wall. "Why do you care so much?"

Dream hums, shifting his weight back and forth.

"This is a. . .unique opportunity," he eventually says. "Can't blame me for being curious."

"A unique opportunity for what?" George asks, his voice wavering. "What are you planning on doing?"

"You guys have been hunting me down, trying to kill me for months despite my attempts to convince you to leave me alone." Dream takes a step forward. "So take a guess: what do you think I'm gonna do with you?"

"We'd never-" George forces down the terrified sob building up in his chest. "Dream."

"You'd never what, George?" It's easy to imagine the way Dream is probably tilting his head to the side.

When George remains silent, scared to give Dream any ideas, the speedrunner lets out a quiet laugh.

"I'm just messing with you, George," Dream murmurs, his grin audible in his voice. "You're just too fun to scare."

Before George can relax, though, Dream adds, "But I am going to be taking you with me."

"What?" George yelps, his eyes going wide behind his goggles.

"I need some answers, and I'd rather not stick this close to your friends any longer." George shuffles to the side as he hears Dream approach, trying to remember where the tunnel to the surface is. "It's in your best interest to cooperate, George, so don't-"

George darts to the side, grunting as his shoulder hits the edge of the tunnel. He turns but only manages to take a few steps up the slope before arms wrap around his waist and haul him off his feet.

"Let go!" George screeches, kicking his legs wildly as he tries to wriggle free. "Put me down!"

Dream ignores him, adjusting his grip. George grunts as he's draped over Dream's shoulder, one arm tightly squeezing his legs as Dream begins to walk.

George squirms around, jabbing his elbow against Dream's spine, but the leather chestplate softens his blows and Dream just sighs. "Don't even try, George."

George just hisses a swear, wishing that he could grab his knife, but he can't bend his injured arm enough to reach it.

His chest aches uncomfortably where Dream's shoulder digs into his ribcage; he sucks in a few deep breaths, trying to calm himself. If they're going to the surface, he just needs to escape and find a cow to get some milk. Easy.

Yeah, right. Easy. I'll end up falling into a ravine.

If I cause enough problems, my friends will probably be able to catch up. I just have to slow him down without annoying him enough that he decides to kill me.

. . .what answers could he possibly want? Does he really care this much about what caused my blindness, or is there something else he wants to know?

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Manhunt Dteam are super fun to write, especially Dream :)