MANHUNT {dreamnotfound}

11 • Crystals and Foxgloves

Edited 8/8/22
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George's heart was lodged in his throat, making it incredibly different to swallow. He'd dragged Dream from the main cave system, tugging him along with a great deal of effort, trying to keep his uneven breath quiet, in fear of the other Hunters waking.

He wasn't certain if they would be fooled with what happened. Hopefully they'd figure out that Dream had somehow outsmarted them all, like he always did, and that George had gone after him, or was taken hostage. He'd left the scene in disarray to make it seem like a struggle, though the thought of Sapnap and Bad haunted him insistently, hounding him with guilt.

All he'd known in that split-second was that Sapnap was letting his rage consume him, as it often did, and that he was unpredictable. He didn't know how far he would have gone to hurt Dream, and if he'd killed him... There would be no bounty; granted, maybe George and the Hunters would finally get the glory for it, but that didn't feel like enough anymore. He knew Sapnap and Bad hated him — hell, a small part of him still argued that Dream's death would benefit them all — but that didn't mean it was right.

George couldn't see an end to this where Dream got away alive. Maybe he could see his family first, though, as a small mercy. Maybe that would be enough for him, and George wanted to at least give him the possibility. It only felt fair.

Now — his main problem. Dream.

George had dragged his useless ass through several tunnels before finding a secluded cave tucked into the corner of a larger cavern. The self-contained hollow chamber was fluorescent, painted in a misty soft aquamarine light.

It took George a moment to realise the culprit of this phenomenon was a cluster of crystals on the ceiling, reflecting against a small pool in the corner. He'd appreciate the beauty of it if he weren't so riddled with anxiety.

Finally, George released his prisoner against the wall, his muscles protesting and aching as he attempted to keep him in a seated position, even as his head keep stubbornly lolling to the side. He was out cold, which was ironic considering his skin was so hot to the touch.

George set his stuff down, checked briefly that no one was around or nearby, though the caves were as still and as silent as the water in the small iridescent pool.

He looked at Dream. Dark stains covered the majority of his battered green hoodie, so George decided to tug it off him, revealing a tight grey shirt and a lousy chest-plate - almost as if he'd crafted it himself from leather (he probably had).

His left collarbone and shoulder was a mess of blood. There was a gaping wound that seemed to keep gushing, and not only that, but the injury was tinted green and yellow, a sign of infection... or... no, George had seen this before.

Years ago, another Knight on the King's army had been attacked by a mutant spider. He'd rushed to the castle, wild-eyed and fatigued, only to collapse on the floor before the King. George hadn't witnessed what actually happened to him, only the dramatic entrance, but what followed was rumours of the Knight's hysteria and agony as the poison slowly took over his motor functions, his control. George never really believed such trivial things, though he hadn't seen that Knight since.

Nauseous, he went to his supply bag to grab bandages and cloth and dipped them into the pristine lake before using them to gently clean the wound. The bite and stab were intermingled: Sapnap must've reopened the spider bite. A stab wound was easy enough to treat, but the spider had bitten Dream a while ago now, some thirty hours had passed since, so the poison was seeping into his system.

It's probably already too late, a part of him whispered. The more stubborn part of him was already thinking of a cure.

With shaking hands he wrapped the clean bandages over the deep cut in his shoulder, fastening it tightly around Dream's limp body, while his mind raced for options. If Dream was breathing erratically now, and his skin was already so hot... he was in a feverous state, he was unconscious... If George didn't do something to prevent the symptoms, he wasn't sure what would happen. But he had to do something.