Your Ghost ? Sequel to Text Back

"Then tell me why George is standing right behind you," Sapnap's voice was shaky, undertones of anger and grief seeping through the cracks.

Dream turned to face George and George could see the gears turning in his head, the way his eyes locked onto the mic held in George's hand.

Dream slowly turned back around to face his camera.

"You... You can see him? What's he look like, does he look okay-" Dream's voice hitched in his throat and he swallowed something down, his eyes glistening in the dim light, "Please. You just gotta tell me if he's alright."

George laid a hand on Dream's shoulder, feeling the younger man shiver under his touch. Sapnap clearly didn't know what to say.

George didn't either.

He looked into Sapnap's eyes, trying to gauge just how the Texan was feeling.

Removing his hand from Dream's shoulder, the dead man moved it down to hold his living lover's hand instead.

"U-Um, well, he uh, he has a white shirt and blue ripped jeans on, and uh, socks, and his hair's all messy and I think he had clout glasses on his head but I'm not sure, and w-well..." his voice got increasingly more shaky and quiet as he described more of George's appearance.

"Well?" George asked, his voice crisply cutting the silence that had fallen over him.

Sapnap finally broke.

"G-George, I..." he cried. George stood there awkwardly, both of his closest friends crying around him.

It sort of felt like his funeral. Except this was somehow worse.

The rest of the call was tear filled, though they slowly fell back into their old rhythm. It was hard not to, seeing as the three of them just sort of fell together like puzzle pieces.

It was like old times, before George's spine practically snapped, before Dream hit his head, before...

Before everything.

George wanted to go back.

He really did.

He really fucking did.

George excused himself, leaving Dream and Sapnap to talk.

He floated down, down, down through the floor, into the basement. He went there often. It was his safe space. George didn't even know if Dream knew about it, since everything in there looked like it hadn't been touched in ages.

George landed on the floor, his feet making no sound (as per usual) when they hit the cool concrete.

Hah.

Concrete.

He thought back to the stream where they played Block Hunt together.

The videos.

The jokes.

George hummed the song he had been listening to as they played.

George wasn't much of a singer, but Dream?

God, he had to cut out so much of Dream singing copyrighted songs from their videos.

Especially the block hunt one.

That's where George first heard it; August by flipturn.

He had never heard of the band before Dream started singing its lyrics under his breath, effortlessly sounding like an angel.

His angel.

George walked along the dusty basement, dragging his hands along the walls.

"We don't talk about it, we don't have the time."

George knew that he needed to move on soon. He could feel the tug in his soul, the settling feeling of unrestlessness.

He couldn't stay for long. George just needed to bring it up to Dream somehow.

He knew that it was probably Dream keeping him here. Dream couldn't let go, so neither could George.

"We fell in love with something we weren't meant to find."

It had taken him a while to figure it out- mainly because being dead took some getting used to.

"But now you're a stranger..." George's soft singing trailed off as something caught his eye.

The glow he had seen on the Ouija Board.

"And I'm still July."

It was a sort of iridescent color, hints of blue and pink and some other color shining through a glaring white.

As he got closer, the light dimmed.

George squatted down, the light blinking out. It was some old leather book, a drawing of some symbol burnt into the front. George reached out to touch it, hissing as it burned his hand.

Whatever it was, George didn't want to have to worry about it.

Something about that book... It didn't sit right with the Brit.

George decided he had had enough alone time, now eager to rejoin Sapnap and Dream upstairs.

"But don't you remember,"

He floated back up, up, up into Dream's bedroom.

Sapnap greeted him, saying that Dream had gone to the bathroom. There was a twinkle in his eyes that George knew meant he knew something George didn't.

George was about to ask what happened when Dream came back, his eyes flicking to the mic.

"George! Welcome back, me and Sapnap were just talking about how we should try to make a video together, yaknow, for old time's sake?" Dream smiled, sitting back down at his desk.

George stuttered a bit, "Uhm, won't our fans be really confused? I mean, I am dead haha..."

Sapnap looked away, Dream glancing down at the floor.

"I mean sure! Sounds great, what were you thinking?" George backtracked, not wanting to upset his friends and kill the good vibes they had going.

"Maybe a manhunt, something classic like that?"

"You really wanna challenge us Dream? You barely won last time we played manhunt together!"

"Oh shut up, you won out of pure luck!"

"Mhm, sure. Me hitting you off a cliff was 'pure luck'."

George smiled.

It wouldn't hurt anything if he stayed a little longer.

Dream hummed something, George hearing the lyrics clear as day in his mind:

"August, honey, you were mine."