𝕎𝕚𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕣 𝕎𝕚𝕥𝕙 𝕄𝕖 - Ⓓ Ⓝ Ⓕ

~37~

George couldn't breathe.

Something wet and suffocating was covering his mouth and nose, sticking to his face and cold skin as he thrashed weakly, trying to take whatever was choking him away from his body. Something foul was coating his tongue, causing him to gag, and his body convulsed fiercely, his hips lifting from the floor. His head raised and slammed back down onto something hard, pain instantly echoing across his nerves, and he kicked his feet, gasping when whatever was smothering him fell to his chin.

Something on his chest shifted, a weight moving before leaving altogether, and he reached his hand forward, his eyes blurring as something nuzzled into it. A quiet meow reached his ears, and George felt tears prickle in his eyes.

Luca?

A sob tore through his mouth and his chest started heaving, something light overcoming George as oxygen began circling through his system. He turned his head to the side and choked, something horrid spilling from his mouth, but he couldn't seem to care. George couldn't think right now, especially with the sinking feeling that was settling across his body.

He managed to blink and open his eyes, the world spinning and dipping dangerously, and his hand fell from a furry cheek, gravity taking it in its grasp. Nausea swelled in the pit of George's stomach, sparking a groan to slip from the brunette, and just as his eyes cleared and allowed him to catch a glimpse of ginger fur, they closed again, and George's world went dark.

"C-Come here, Patches."

Footsteps, a scurry, and startled meow.

A sniff. "Please," a sob. "Please don't make this any h-harder."

Another distressed meow, and a presence was snatched from George's side, causing him to miss the warmth. There was a whine and a hiss, and George's heart sunk. No, please don't hurt Luca. Please leave him alone. George couldn't lose him again – he just couldn't.

He tried to speak, to beg whoever was taking Luca away from him so soon to stop, but it came out as a choked cough, and he barely managed to open his eyes in time and tilt his head to see a figure gasp and startle, falling to the floor with a thud. Heavy breaths filled the room, ones that didn't belong to George, and he heard someone shifting and a loud sob before the figure's face managed to clear in his vision.

Wavy light-brown hair obscured his vision, eyes filled with tears, and it spoke, just barely above breaking a whisper.

"G-George?"

George passed out again.

Someone was touching George.

He didn't think it was meant to be in a sexual way, or in an intrusive way at all, because they weren't in the right places, and they were frantic touches, not ones of lust. There were also people talking loudly around him, one of the cries echoing with hitched sobs while the others were slightly less panicked, but were still spoken with urgency as George's body was manhandled.

George's face wasn't as sticky and smelly as it was when he had first managed to come back to the real world, but there was still a bad taste in the back of his mouth. Something cold was pressed to his forehead, and he could feel someone undressing him, which caused him to shiver, cold and wet from being in direct line of the storm through the hole in Dream's wall.

He was lying on something soft, although it wasn't as comfortable as the couch or an actual bed. A warm hand pressed to his cheek as a gentle voice talked to him, and a small, non-delirious part of his brain recognised it as Dream's. Something cool was pressed to his bottom lip and someone had titled and held his head up, careful.