The Dream Case || Dreamnotfound

24

"Get him out of here!" a first responder shouted.

Paramedics lifted Clay onto a stretcher, carrying him out of the boat. George stumbled after them, shaking the blanket off his shoulders.

Clay's hand was hanging limply over the edge of the stretcher, stained red with blood. He was still soaked, but his lips looked dry. He looked lifeless.

George ran alongside the stretcher, clutching Clay's hand and whispering, "It's okay, Clay, it's okay. You're gonna be okay."

His hand was disconnected from Clay's as he was lifted into the ambulance. George shoved his way past the paramedics and took a seat in the corner of the ambulance, watching numbly as the workers frantically tried to help Clay, placing an oxygen mask over his mouth and nose.

It seemed like ages, but eventually they were at the hospital and Clay was being pulled into an emergency room. George walked quickly with the workers to stay with Clay, but someone stopped him from entering.

George tried to push past the worker, but a firm hand held him back. The worker explained, "Sorry, sir, but only healthcare workers are allowed beyond this point. You can sit in the waiting room until the operation is over."

"I can't. Clay― he needs me, I have to be there for him," George said quickly, his eyes never leaving Clay until he was pulled around a corner.

George looked desperately at the worker, a young brown haired man with glasses. He pleaded, "Please, let me be with him."

The worker gave him a sympathetic look, replying softly, "I'm sorry, but you'll have to wait in the waiting room... we can supply dry clothes for you, if you'd want."

"I don't fucking want dry clothes!" George shouted. His voice broke into a whisper, "I just want to be with him."

The worker nodded understandingly. "I know. You can see him in a few hours, when the operation is complete. Until then, I'll show you our waiting room. We offer food and blankets, does that sound okay?"

George's shoulders sagged in defeat and he nodded weakly. The worker led him through a few hallways and soon George was sitting in a chair, his limbs screaming in pain at him. He didn't look up as Karl ran into the room.

Karl raced to his side and asked, "Is he okay?"

"I think so," George whispered, staring at the floor.

Karl sighed in relief. He gave George a long look and left the room, coming back with a pair of clothes. he handed them to George and said, "Are you okay? Here, you're still wet. Change into these and you'll feel better."

George nodded and took the clothes. His legs protested as he stood up, but George pushed past the pain and entered the bathroom. He changed in a few minutes, but his eyes snagged on his reflection in the bathroom mirror.

His hair was an absolute mess, disheveled and sticking out in every direction. His eyes were red from both the ocean water and his crying and his nose was runny for the same reasons. He smoothed his hair down, wincing. At least his clothes were clean. George now wore black sweatpants and a blue long sleeved t-shirt.

George walked back to the waiting room and collapsed on a chair. Karl observed his mood and launched into conversation. Karl knew George wasn't listening and he knew George wouldn't add to the conversation, but Karl supplied story upon story. His talking kept George awake, and for that, George was grateful.

Hours later, when George couldn't take anymore waiting, the door to the room opened. The same worker from before entered, a small smile on his face. George leapt up at the sight of him and Karl's voice trailed off.