A few days had gone by since the food incident, and George was starting to become a little more comfortable in Dream's presence. Sure, he was still overall not happy with his predicament, but he decided it could be worse.

Seeing the man panic so much over not feeding him made him laugh, especially when he came running back in to ask questions about George's diet.

"Do you eat fish?" Dream had screeched, "Is that cannibalism?"

George, of course, had told him that he does indeed eat fish, so that's what he ended up being given. (He wouldn't tell anyone that he spent a solid few hours trying to figure out if that would be counted as cannibalism, but he'd decided on the fact that, no, it was not, because he was a different species and other fish ate fish all the time)...(he realised about two minutes after that he didn't even have anyone to tell).

Despite the fact that George had told Dream that he didn't need to eat as constantly as humans did, he was fed each and every day. This was weird, and it took his stomach a little bit to comply and not throw up the change in food quantity, but he was slowly getting used to it.

Dream had slept in George's room every night since then, which was weird, because he knew that the blonde had a room of his own, probably with something much more comfortable than laying on the wood, but still, he stayed.

Of course, Dream had kept his distance. He slept possibly as far away as possible from George, and only got near him to play with the bouncy ball, or have a one-sided conversation.

Dream's actions were just so...curious.

Speaking of Dream, the man was sat a few feet away from him, fumbling with the ball in his hands.

Every few minutes he'd open his mouth to speak, then clamp it shut and decide against it. George wondered what he had to say. George wondered if it was bad. It probably was.

Dream let out a sigh, apparently gaining the confidence he needed.

"The others think it's time to be a bit more...forceful with getting your tears." he admitted, George's heart panging slightly with hurt.

"The others?" he echoed.

Dream nodded, "A few of them. They're all...amazing people, but they don't want to keep waiting," he said, clearing his throat, "I told them to give me more time to convince you, but they're getting restless. And scared."

George looked over at him. Dream sat there, cross-legged, fidgeting with his hands, his body language looking extremely guilty, like he was going to curl into a ball and roll away. It was hard to imagine that this man was a pirate captain. Sure, over the past week and a bit, Dream had had his scary moments of anger and coolness that let George really believe that this was a dangerous pirate...but all those other times- he just didn't seem like that. He seemed almost harmless. He'd sit there, rolling a ball back and forth with George, or he'd mumble things to himself when he read, or he'd hum before going to bed.

All these things made him seem...okay. Not scary. When Dream walked into the room, George only felt a bit of cautiousness, not full unbridled fear like before.

But he had to remind himself. Dream was bad. He was a pirate, he had kidnapped George, he wasn't an innocent guy like he tried to portray. George repeated his rules in his mind.

Trust no one. Help no one. Take care of yourself, and only yourself.

His gaze burned into Dream's mask.

Trust no one.

The blonde was making that hard for him. George bit his lip.

"You can't, even if you tried." he murmured, and Dream looked up.

"Sorry?"

"I haven't been completely honest with you." George admitted, running a hand through his semi-dry hair.

"Well...no one expected you to." Dream laughed, trying to break the tension, but quietened down when George looked at him with a sharp glare.

"You can't torture the tears out of me," Dream winced at George's wording, "The tears I cry aren't magic. You can't just get them by kicking me or something stupid like that." Dream leaned back slightly, highly confused.

"But- merfolk tears have been used before! They exist-" George rolled his eyes.

"I know they exist," he snapped, interrupting the blonde, "what I'm trying to say is I have to willingly create them. I have to use magic energy and have the purpose of creating them when I cry for them to actually work. If I don't, they're just normal, useless tears." Dream let out a silent 'oh'.

"So...your crew are wrong. You can't just take them by force." George muttered, his eyes feeling heavy with an uncertain and unfamiliar emotion.

He wanted Dream to get angry. He wanted the man to storm off, scream, or something. So he knew how he felt.

But the man stayed silent. He just sat there. And somehow that was much more terrifying than any noise or complaints the man could voice.

George noticed now that sitting in silence seemed to be something that happened a lot between the two of them. It had started off uncomfortable, and recently hadn't been so bad, but here they were, back in square one.

The atmosphere was thick around them, and George could feel himself subconsciously holding his breath as Dream sat there, looking at his shoes.

"Okay." Dream finally murmured.

George looked up at him, confusion written all over his face.

"Okay?"

"Okay."

George blinked in surprise, before settling back down in the water.

Alright. Well. That was unexpected.

They both sat there for a while, before Dream picked up the bouncy ball and bounced it towards George.

George looked up at him with furrowed brows. After what they'd just discussed, he went back to playing with the ball?

He studied Dream, and let out a sigh. This must just be one of his ways of taking his mind off things. George could practically see the tension radiating off of the man, and so he complied, picking up the ball and bouncing it back towards Dream.

"So..." George murmured, for once being the one to start a conversation. "Tell me about your crew?" he asked, and Dream paused. It was usually one-sided conversations with Dream doing all the talking, so as he looked at Dream, he could see the surprise in his features.

"Why do you want to know?" Dream asked, somewhat hesitantly, and George had to push away the urge to roll his eyes.

"They're your family aren't they?"

"Yeah. They are."

"Well go on then."

Dream looked at him again, and as usual, George wished he could see what was going on under that mask. He stared for a moment, before nodding slowly.

"Okay. Well, there's Sapnap. He's like...my best friend. I've known him the longest out of everyone here. He's great, honestly, you'd love him." George smiled slightly at the excited tone creeping into Dream's voice.

"And then there's Sam, he's a real cool guy. And Skeppy, who has a weird fascination with diamonds. Don't let him talk to you about them. And then of course along with Skeppy there's always Bad-"

"Bad?"

"Badboyhalo, but Bad is his nickname."

"Your friends all seem to have weird names." George interjected, causing Dream to chuckle.

"Yeah, well, lots of those aren't their actual names, but that's what they go by nowadays." George hummed in acknowledgement, signalling Dream to continue.

"Bad is always with Skeppy, they're best friends. Maybe more. I don't know. Then there's Antfrost, he's a bit quieter, but he does a lot of the work around here." Dream scratched the back of his head, "And there's Niki, who is simultaneously the sweetest and most terrifying person you'll ever meet, and her brother Ranboo, who's just like- the nicest person ever." Dream gushed happily, practically forgetting about their previous conversation.

"And Philza! He's the oldest of our bunch, and everyone thinks he's the wise one, but I know he's just as reckless as the rest of us. He actually has two sons on our boat too, Tommy, who's a teenager, and who's a pain in my butt-" George remembered the screeching cuss words of a youthful boy from the other day, and made that connection to it being Tommy, "-and Wilbur! He's really good at singing, he could probably show you sometime. Then there's Fundy, and everyone jokes about him being Wilbur's son, which doesn't make sense, considering he's only a few years younger than him, but that's just how it is I guess..." Dream stopped with a smile.

George didn't like to admit it, but his heart had warmed at the sight of Dream talking about his family. They were such a good topic for the blonde...

George's face dropped in guilt. They seemed great. And it would be his fault that they died.

"Are you okay?" Dream asked, shuffling closer to the glass box.

George pushed a fake smile onto his face.

"Just peachy. They seem...really cool." Dream grinned, "Yeah. Yeah, they're really cool."

George let his fake smile slip into a real one.

They sat there for a moment before Dream asked:

"Do you have any family?" George's smile dropped.

"Ah, no." Dream frowned.

"None? At all?"

"No, Dream, none at all." George whispered, and Dream hesitated before he leaned forward and gave him a pat on the head.

George looked up in surprise at the sudden contact, thinking for sure that he'd flinch or hiss away from it...but instead, he smiled. It was only a small smile, but it was there.

"What was that supposed to be?" he asked, and Dream shrugged nonchalantly.

"Just a pat of support. It makes my friends feel better. Thought it might work for you too."

George raised an eyebrow but refrained from saying any of the snarky comments he thought of.

Instead, he let out an airy laugh.

"Thanks, I guess?" Dream laughed.

"You're welcome, I guess."

x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x

Hello friends!! Short chapter again, I know :(

Sorry:((

But hey, I apologise with giving you some fluff, so we can call it even ;)

Thanks so much for your continued support!

Happy reading!!!

-Bee

(21/1/21)

Co-posted on ao3