Chapter Text
Heroes and villains, the battle between good and evil.
It’s a never-ending cycle, something that’s as prevalent to George as the need to breathe.
Well, at least it used to be.
Before the accident that is.
Every fight has the chance to go wrong, even one small slip-up could lead to death, but that’s the risk each hero takes when they take on the oath that they’ll give everything they have toward stopping evil.
George gave and gave and gave.
Until he lost.
It could’ve been worse.
So, so much worse.
But his injury was bad enough for the hero organization to tell him that it was time to retire from crime fighting, made it painfully clear that they didn’t want one of their heroes to be blind in one eye.
Sapnap fought for him, he raised absolute hell on the organization for tossing George aside because he got hurt on a mission they sent him on.
When they still refused to let him continue to be a hero, Sapnap's exact response was ‘Fuck you all, if George is leaving I’m gone too’.
It makes George smile to think about it even all these years later.
The way Sapnap was willing to give up everything just so George wouldn’t have to go through this loss alone.
So they left the hero organization behind--one of them much more willingly than the other--and lived normal lives for the first time.
George would be lying if he said that he didn’t miss being a hero.
But it’s fine.
As long as he doesn’t think about it too much, it’s fine.
He and Sapnap are living a comfortable life, having all the money they could need from their years of heroism. The two of them work at a local coffee shop, not because they need the money to survive, but because they at least need to do something with their lives.
It’s nice.
The coffee shop is a cozy place, the food is good, all their coworkers are nice.
But…
It’s not what George wishes he was doing.
That doesn’t matter though, not when the organization made it clear that they don’t want a broken hero.
So he just pretends like he’s a normal person, like he doesn’t know what it feels like to save someone in desperate need of his help, like he doesn’t know the sense of pride that comes from whenever he helped lock up another villain behind bars.
He’s just a normal, average guy who lives with his normal, average best friend, the two of them working in a normal, average coffee shop.
It’s fine.
He wouldn’t want to have it any other way…
“Hey, George, you sure you’re good to close up the place tonight?” Niki, the wonderful café owner who hired him and Sapnap despite their lack of any work experience, asks as the last customer leaves the shop, a dishrag already in her hands so she can begin wiping down the tables.
“Of course, I’ve got it,” George replies with an easy-going smile. “Go enjoy your date, you don’t need to stick around here any longer.”
With a wide grin, Niki leaves the rag on the table, rushing over to George to give him a hug as she excitedly says, “Thanks, Gogy, you’re the best.”
“Whatever,” George mutters as he fondly rolls his eyes, a soft smile gracing his lips as he shoos her out the door, “Go on, go have fun with your girlfriend.”
“Will do!” Niki happily calls out as she makes her way out the door, waving over-exaggeratedly as she continues, “See you tomorrow!”
George just waves to her in return, still smiling when the bell chimes as she leaves the shop.
Then he gets to work, wiping down the tables, sweeping the floors, cleaning the coffee and espresso machines.
It takes about 30 minutes to get everything done, the time being well past 11 o’clock by the time he finishes but he doesn’t mind, especially since he knows that Niki is going to be having a great night.
George on the other hand will just go back to his apartment and cuddle with Sapnap until they both fall asleep, but that’s fine, he doesn’t mind not going out and doing exciting things like most people.
When he steps outside, George is met with the chilly night air, such a stark contrast from the pleasant temperature inside the shop. After locking the door and pocketing the key, he puts his hands in his hoodie pockets, not looking forward to the walk back to his apartment.
Usually he has Niki to walk with him, their conversations always filling the empty streets with laughter, the 20 minute walk seeming to pass by in the blink of an eye.
Tonight though, it’s just him.
He’s not worried, especially since he has his powers to protect him if something were to happen, but he does miss the company right about now…
Instead of happily chatting away with Niki, George allows himself to get lost in his thoughts, having walked these streets night after night to the point that he could find his way home even with his eyes closed.
In hindsight, he probably should’ve been paying a bit more attention to his surroundings.
Nothing’s ever happened before though, and he used to be a literal superhero, you’d think he’d be able to protect himself just fine.
But suddenly he finds a hand wrapped around his mouth, preventing him from calling for help or using his powers to put his attacker to sleep.
George immediately tries struggling to get away, muffled sounds of protest and panic escaping him as he tries to free his arms from where they’re pinned to his sides by this person’s constricting hold.
His struggles stop immediately though when he feels the bite of steel against his delicate throat, the knife so close to his skin that swallowing causes the blade to dig into his flesh.
With nothing else he can do, George gasps in ragged breaths around the hand covering his mouth, his chest rising and falling rapidly, adrenaline filling his veins as his body demands to go into fight or flight mode, neither of which he’s able to do.
“There you go, no need to struggle,” A deep voice purrs into his ear, the feeling of the man’s hot breath ghosting over his skin making George shudder violently. “I won’t use this knife unless you give me a reason to, got it?”
Unable to speak still, George just releases a loud, panicked whine, his one good eye closing against the threat of trying to hold back tears.
George is far more familiar with life or death situations than most people ever will be, but he’s never felt this helpless before.
Even during his final fight as a hero, the one where he lost his left eye, George gave it everything he had, he fought until he collapsed.
But right now, he can’t fight, he can’t use his powers, he can hardly even breathe around the hand on his mouth and the panic constricting his throat.
His attacker is saying something, and George knows that he really should listen, but he can’t hear whatever he’s saying, not over the sounds of his ragged gasps for air and the jackrabbiting of his frantically beating heart.
He doesn’t know what’s being said, but he knows that something must be getting demanded of him and he isn’t complying, the knife pressing impossibly closer to his throat, a whimper escaping him as fresh blood begins to bead down his neck.
George doesn’t know what’s happening, just that he’s panicking, he’s panicking so hard because he’s absolutely terrified, he’s so dead, he’s actually gonna die-
“Let him go,” A new voice suddenly says, and even through his panic George can hear the distinct, metallic tint of a voice that’s being altered by the voice modifiers that heroes use to protect their true identity.
One of the heroes is here.
He’s saved.
George opens his eye to see which hero is here to save him, but everything is too blurry both from his tears and him not being able to get in enough oxygen through all his panic, but that’s fine, he doesn’t need to see who’s here, all that matters is that he’s gonna be okay.
This hero must be one of the more well-known ones, his attacker immediately moving the knife from George’s throat and taking his hand off his mouth.
If George was smart, he’d put both his attacker and the hero to sleep now that he can speak and run.
But that doesn’t happen, not when George’s legs give out the second his attacker is no longer holding him up, the ex-hero sinking to his knees and curling in on himself as he fights to breathe.
Faintly, George hears the sound of footsteps quickly leaving, but he doesn’t pay that much mind, instead clutching to his bleeding throat, the wound nothing too bad, but he almost just died.
When a hand wraps around his arm, George flinches violently and tries to pull away, opening his mouth to command this person to sleep, but the only sound that comes out is a ragged wheeze, the whole trying to breathe thing not working out too well right now.
The hand on his arm doesn’t cause any pain though, instead they guide his own hand away from his throat, placing George’s hand on their chest, allowing him to feel the steady beating of their heart, so unlike his own that’s working in overdrive to keep him from passing out.
“Breathe, just like me,” The hero says, and George tries his best to do as they ask, his first few attempts being nothing more than choked wheezes, but eventually the hero coaxes him into breathing.
By the time George comes back to the present, the panic and terror receding enough to allow him to think again, he finds himself pressed against someone’s chest, firm but gentle hands wrapped around his back to hold him close.
Even though George doesn’t know what hero is holding him, he grabs onto the lime-green fabric of their hoodie, using the soft material to help ground himself in the present again.
“You okay?” The hero asks him, and even through the voice modifier George can tell that they’re keeping their tone oh-so-gentle so they don’t accidentally scare him.
And all George can do in response is give a wry, bitter chuckle, feeling anything but ‘okay’ right about now.
With a small huff of laughter, the hero says while rolling his eyes behind his mask, “Sorry, that was a dumb question, of course you’re not okay. Is there anything I can do to help?”
“N-No,” George mutters, wincing at how wrecked his voice sounds. “Th-Thank y-you.”
“Of course man, I’m glad I was able to help you,” The hero says with a wide smile heard clearly in his voice, his words causing George to smile shakily as he finally pulls back to take a look at the hero who saved him.
Only for his smile to fall instantly, his mouth becoming terribly dry as he’s met with a porcelain smiley-faced mask rather than the face of a hero he recognizes.
He wasn’t saved by a hero…
He was saved by Dream, one of the most ruthless villains the world has ever seen.