Playing the Game (DNF)

41

TW// mentions of injury and painkillers h

Dream runs into the hospital room, desperately grasping onto the doorframe to brace himself. Sapnap runs in farther. Dream's eyes look towards the center of the room, towards the bed he had spent hours next to. Towards the bed that he had watched George's bruised and battered body rest for the past twelve hours.

The sight stops him. He grips harder onto the doorframe, knuckles turning white. He tries to focus on his own chest, rising and falling. How his breathe gets caught in his chest. He tries to focus on his own heartbeat. But he can't. He can only focus on the person staring back at him. The person is being comforted by another familiar person who's face is wet with tears.

They don't move or speak, their eyes do and say everything they need to say. In this moment, he's all Dream can see. Nothing else is of importance to him.

Dream can't believe it. He's there. He's looking back at him. His familiar dark eyes keep Dreams attention, like they so often do.

"Dream," George's raspy voice breathes out as a whisper.

Dreams heart jumps in his chest. He needed to hear that voice.

"George," Dream gasps in response.

Dream quickly steps away from the door. His legs feel weak, but in a good way. His body moves swiftly over towards George's bedside.

George tries to sit up more in his bed. He struggles, his eyes pinching shut as he winces in pain. Karl quickly leans him back down.

"Hey, hey. I'm coming. Don't hurt yourself, I'm here now," Dream gushes as he grabs ahold of George's hand.

He takes a shaky breath as George squeezes his hand. He thought he might never feel that again.

Karl sniffles, wiping a tear from his face. Sapnap steps up next to Karl. Tears of joy roll down his cheeks as a gentle smile rests on his face.

George glances between all of them, not losing the grip on Dream's hand. He scowls. His eyes flutter shut, obviously still quite tired.

"Wh-what's going on?" He grunts.

Sapnap glances at the group. "I'll go grab the doctor," he announces. He quickly walks out of the room, wiping his face with the front of his shirt as he begins to run.

"Uh, well-" Dream begins, unsure of where to start.

George begins to groan, cutting him off. He reaches his free hand to gently hold his own head. His fingers delicately feel around in his hair, they pause once they reach the back.

Dream stares with concern.

George's eyes focus in front of him as he tries to figure out what hurts. His fingers feel the cold of his stitches and the swollen bump of his fracture. He winces in pain.

"What- what's wrong?" Dream rushes as he frantically looks over George.

"It hurts," George breathes. He scoffs. "What am I doing here?" He whimpers as he peers up into Dream's eyes.

He drops his hand back down onto the bed in defeat.

"Uhm," Dream tries to explain, but his throat stings. His throat stops any words wanting to come out. It burns.

Dream blinks rapidly, causing the tears that had welled up in his eyes to trickle down his face. George furrows his brow, grabbing higher on Dreams arm to pull him closer.

"Please, don't cry," he softly begs.

"I know, I'm not," Dream quickly reassures him, but his cracking voice doesn't help to convince him.