Hold on || dreamnotfound

chapter thirty five

Sapnap's pov
tw: panic

It had been a couple hours ago when George called me to go upstairs. Back then, I was ready to be met with the worst I could imagine while entering the room. I hadn't heard from the two of them the whole day so who could blame me for overthinking the situation.

But when they told me what they wanted to do, my jaw almost dropped. Clay actually wanted to talk to people again. It had been ages since he talked to one of our other friends and they were worried sick. Texting me daily to check up on us and asking if they could help in any way. But there was no way I would tell them without Dream's permission.

Karl was the only person I told that things were pretty rough down here. I never told him what exactly was going on... but he knew that Dream was struggling and that George and I were trying our best to get him out of the darkness.

Yes, I felt bad for telling him without Dream's assurance.

But what was I supposed to do when it was getting too much for me?

Sure, there was George who was probably struggling with keeping his head up as much as I did... but he rarely communicated with me anymore.

We did have our nightly talking sessions, where we tried to empty out the bad thoughts and promised each other things we didn't have control over.

But he spent most of the time in his room. With or without Dream.

The only time the two came downstairs was when they got hungry or Dream had one of his therapy sessions. Sure, we did just talk a bit the day after the party... but that was now almost a week ago.

I missed them. Especially Dream. I had no idea how he was truly feeling at the moment due to the lack of communication. But by the look in his eyes, I could tell he had been crying.

George slowly stood up.

"I will take my laptop downstairs and ask who's up to call. Just join me when you're ready," he said and made his way out of the door.

So there we were. My brother and I, looking at each other and both not knowing what to do.

He looked horrible. And not because he wasn't attractive... because fucking hell he is.

But because the depression and anxiety seemed to take over his body more and more. It was almost like a lifeless shell surrounding my best friend.

My stomach twisted together painfully as I saw his fingers starting to shake gently. His expression stayed calm, but his body tensed up.

Slowly and carefully, I stepped beside him, letting myself sit down next to him.

"You alright man?" I quietly asked but got no response. He was clearly trying not to panic and by the look on his face, it seemed like he wanted to be anywhere but next to me.

"Hey, You're alright. It's just me," I whispered, trying to hide the pain I felt myself.

What was he so afraid of?

I hesitantly took his hands into my own, feeling them violently shaking by now. "What's wrong?" My voice was surprisingly calm and it seemed to somehow soothe his nerves.