bruises (DNF)

too familiar

(A/N enjoy the chapter and I just would like to say before any of you say anything, I told you that there was hope HAHAH this is probably gonna be a short filler so I'm sorry but I have a lot of plot planned for the future so yeah be prepared:))

   George's dark chocolate eyes shot open, his mind dazed. He couldn't comprehend what had just happened, let alone what is now happening. He peered around the room, recognizing the bland details and the soft noises filling his surroundings.

   He was back in the hospital.

   The faint scent of plain vanilla filled the cool air while white walls surrounded the brunette. The same old room, the same old slots, the same old chairs. Everything was how it should be. Maybe, just maybe, what had happened, was all just a nightmare. It was a false reality, trying to scare George out of imminent death.

   If that is what happened, it sure did work.

   George noticed the deafening silence that attacked his soul with anxiety. His body ached, begged for freedom from the pain. His ankle was covered with a bright white cast while being elevated by a fluffed pillow.He peered down at his arms that would not budge from their positions, only to find the same speckles of cool colors dotting them. His brain pounded against his skull sending whimpers to escape George's chapped lips. He was in so much pain, yet he was still alive.

   And for once, he was grateful to be alive.

______________

   Quackity heard the soft sounds, barely above a whisper, coming out of his best friend's mouth. As soon as he did, he bolted his head around that was facing towards the door way and his eyes widened. George's eyes were wide open, his body slightly shivering. His mouth looked to be quivering, yet as soon as they locked eyes, the scared look that was lying on his face turned into joy. George was alive, and nothing could make this moment better. 

   Quackity quickly stumbled over to the injured boy and his excitement was shining through. Anyone from a mile away could practically see the smile beaming from the teenager. His best friend was actually alive, and it wasn't another hallucination. It was real, and it felt amazing. 

   Alex practically engulfed George into a hug, being careful not to injure the already-fragile George. They were both trying to stay strong and not shed a tear at the happiness bursting from the seams. Everything felt right at that moment. Everything felt okay.

   Then a thought occurred to George, dimming the mood.

   "Where is Clay?

   Alex shrugged his shoulders, sending chills down George's spine. Quackity could see the visible discomfort radiating off of the brunette and quickly sat next to him and rubbed circles on his back, careful not to hurt him. 

   "I'm sure he's okay-,"

   Just as Alex was about to speak his words of comfort, a familiar blond practically bursted through the doors to the room. He abruptly stopped as soon as he saw those chocolate eyes he always seemed to be fond of. The mocha eyes, the library of untold stories, the perfect imperfection. 

   The world seemed to still as Clay glanced around the room, searching for a sign that this wasn't a dream. George was awake, and it was real. It wasn't just another dream, it wasn't a false reality based off of fear, it was reality. And it shocked Dream, in the best way possible.

   The blond almost dropped to the floor, happiness and relief overflowing his system, as he dropped his phone and ran to the brunette. Nothing could describe this moment other than the best possible memory. It was a day the three boys would remember forever until the day they all died. They were all reunited, even if it was just for a moment, just for a second. They were all happy, and nothing could have broken the bond that was created that day. There would have to be an inescapable force, dragging them apart, only one of themselves could create. 

   They all hoped that none would succumb to that darkness and forfeit in the wild game of life. 

   But, most of the time, hope is not good enough. Hope isn't enough to stop the inevitable outcome of their stories. For some cases, they drown out the pain and fear, and live life to the fullest. They live every day like it's their last, and drive away the suffering that would lurk around their door step. 

   For most cases, though... they can't escape the horrible feelings that would drain out all of their happiness from their hurting souls. Their stomachs churned from the built up anger, the pent up sadness that they couldn't let out in the past. Their emotional walls blocked them until their breaking point, and they shattered. Death had won, it was game over. It was an unfortunate ending, but it was what was meant to happen. 

   That's most cases, though. Not all.

_______________

   George, Clay, and Alex spent the rest of the night just talking. Reminiscing on old memories, telling stupid stories, letting banter fly effortlessly through the air. Dream's light wheezes sent everyone into a laughing fit, causing eruptions of joy to overwhelm the three. It hurt to laugh, but George didn't care. He would break his ribs, again and again, to experience this day again. It was such a happy day, and nothing could break them apart.

   "Wanna watch the news?" Alex suggested after his fit of giggles, mostly as sarcasm because who watches the news but the two others nodded in agreement. He turned the television on to find a news reporter, a woman around the age of 40, speaking into a microphone. She was standing near their neighborhood, surprisingly. She was talking about a different car crash, which triggered George's reflexes to flash and nearly punch Dream. He briefly apologized to the blond before turning his head back to the news, zoning into her words.

   "There was another car crash today in the neighborhood of Rosefelt(idk if I named the town yet so i'll probably just change the name if I ever mention it again LMAOAO). No one has passed away, but the family members consisting of 4 in the red Subaru are all in the hospital seeking medical treatment. This will be classified as a hit and run. The other car was a slick, black Ford Fusion. The person driving this vehicle was a man, well over the age of 40. He had dark brown hair, slicked back to reveal his forehead. He had a small beard and he wore a maroon hoodie. He had a tattoo on his neck. Apparently, it was of a tidal wave crashing onto a beach. That is all of the information we have discovered, so keep your eyes out, and stay safe."

   No. It can't be.

   Quackity soon discovered the horror that sat on George's face, his body trembling in petrification, as if he had just gotten struck by lightning. 

   "Hey, what's wrong dude?" Quackity questioned with worry. George could barely even process what was happening. His breaths were getting harder to produce as panic soon overtook the joyus moments that were happening meer minutes ago. Everything had happened in an instant. 

   George barely managed to mutter the next few words as his face still shined with terror.

   "I think... I think the person who caused the crash...," George paused before taking a deep breath and continuing. 

   "I know that person."

   Both Clay and Quackity were confused, yet worried at the same time. How did George know the person from that small description?

   "It sounds a little too familiar to my father."

   (1285 words)

A/N thanks to Ella for the idea of the person being the father ik this isn't exactly the same but it's pretty similar so credit to Ella:) also I TOLD YALL THERE WAS HOPE!!!!! GEORGE IS STILL ALIVE AND IT WAS JUST A DREAM BABYYYYYY WOOOOOO! anyways please eat and drink water if you haven't today:) love you guys so much<3