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3rd POV
The car ride home from the studio was heavy with silence.
George focused on the road while Georgie, eyes closed, leaned back in his seat, trying to rest.
But George's mind was racing. He had so many things he wanted to ask his son, but every time he opened his mouth, he hesitated. He glanced at Georgie more than once but ultimately said nothing.
"…Alright, just spit it out," Georgie finally muttered, opening his eyes. "I know you want to say something."
George exhaled deeply. "Is it true?" he finally asked, his tone awkward.
Georgie frowned. "What?"
George struggled to find the right words. "…That pearly gate thing. Did you really dream about that?" He glanced at Georgie. "I know… it's a metaphor for Heaven, right?"
Georgie instantly understood what George was asking. He nodded. "Yeah, it's Heaven… Seriously, Dad, it's just a song." He waved his hand dismissively, as if brushing off the deeper meaning.
"No, I want you to tell me the truth." George pressed, gripping the steering wheel tighter. "Did you actually dream about it? You know… you're different from the Georgie I used to know. Is that why you changed so much?"
"….."
Georgie stared at him for a few seconds. George felt the weight of his son's gaze but kept his eyes on the road.
"…Yes," Georgie finally admitted.
'It wasn't just the gates I saw.'
"I dreamed about the pearly gates," he repeated.
'I met GOD.'
George's hands tightened on the wheel, his knuckles turning white.
His jaw clenched.
"If you ever dream about it again…" George muttered, his voice shaking slightly.
"…Run."
Georgie's eyes narrowed. "What?"
"Turn around and run away," George said firmly.
"…Why?" Georgie didn't understand. Isn't that supposed to be a good thing? Your son going to Heaven? Shouldn't that be something to be proud of?
"No parent wants to bury their child!" George snapped, his voice rising.
Georgie's breath hitched.
Oh.
A slow realization settled over him.
"…Alright," he murmured, cutting the conversation short.
Silence fell over them again.
Georgie's POV
I didn't know what else to say to George.
I mean, yeah, I told him about it, But what I said wasn't a lie.
I did meet God.
I was there.
I told him because I didn't want to lie. But I also knew… he wouldn't believe me.
No one would.
If I told the whole truth, they'd think I was crazy.
So I spoke through music.
With a white lie.
I just hadn't expected George to react like that. I hadn't expected him to 'get angry'.
But the way he reacted…
It made me happy.
I smiled slightly, thinking about it.
"WE'RE HOME!" George announced as he stepped inside.
I followed him, looking at the large frame of the man I called Dad.
Yeah. I love this family.
"BROTHER!" Missy's excited voice rang through the house, followed by the thud-thud-thud of her hurried footsteps.
She sprinted toward me, beaming.
"Princess!" I caught her mid-run, laughing.
George raised an eyebrow at the scene. "…Wasn't I the one who just announced we were home? Why is it Georgie you're running to?" he grumbled.
Missy completely ignored him.
"Where's Sheldon?" I asked, setting her down. "Did you guys have fun at the church picnic?" I ruffled her hair.
"Yes! We won the three-legged race! Sheldon thought a bee was chasing him, so we ran and beat everyone!" Missy said proudly, dragging me toward the living room.
I spotted Veronica sitting on the couch, her damp hair indicating she had just showered.
I was about to greet her when Missy's words fully sank in.
"…Wait." I narrowed my eyes. "Did you tell Sheldon there was a bee chasing him?"
Missy waved her hand dismissively and gave me an innocent smile. "Don't worry about the small details! The important thing is—we won!"
Veronica, overhearing what missy said, chuckled, "Welcome home," she said, patting the sofa beside her.
I sighed, glancing at George, who simply exhaled and walked away.
"Sheldon's playing with his trains," Veronica informed me, pointing toward the garage. "How was your day? You doing okay?"
I sat beside her, with Missy plopping down on my other side.
"Yeah, I guess," I replied before changing the subject. "So, what did you guys do all day?"
Missy excitedly launched into a detailed retelling of their picnic adventures. I listened, occasionally adding a few comments, until Sheldon entered the room. With his usual flat expression, he looked at me seriously.
"Brother," he said, his tone firm. "I need to talk to you."
I raised an eyebrow. Missy nodded along as if she already knew what this was about.
Even Veronica seemed surprised, "…You guys talk," she said, "I think this is a private matter."
I nodded and followed Sheldon, with Missy trailing behind us.
Sheldon led us into the garage.
I glanced at the model trains neatly set up on the table.
"You really like trains, huh?" I commented, admiring the detailed setup.
"Yes. As a matter of fact, trains have a structured system that I find comforting," Sheldon replied.
Then he sighed. "Forget it. You wouldn't understand."
"Oh, I do understand," I countered. "Unlike planes or trucks, trains follow one fixed path, uninterrupted. They don't deal with obstacles like turbulence or traffic—they always reach their destination."
I flipped a switch, watching the miniature train roll smoothly along its track.
Sheldon's eyes widened. "You understand!" he said, genuinely surprised.
"Of course," I replied, watching the train move. Then, I turned to Missy.
"Missy also loves dolls and fashion. Naturally, a popular girl like her has to keep up with trends, right?" I ruffled her hair again.
Missy smirked proudly, looking at Sheldon.
Sheldon sighed and finally got to the point. "Brother… I remember Memaw's brisket recipe."
"I know," I said simply.
Both Sheldon and Missy stared at me in confusion.
I smiled.
"I told you before—you knew it. With your eidetic memory, all you needed was a trigger to bring it back."
Sheldon nodded, processing my words.
"…Should I tell Dad?" he asked hesitantly. "What should I do?"
"Keep it to yourself for now." I instructed.
That only confused them more.
Before Sheldon could ask why—
"ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!"
Mary's voice roared from the other room.