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George's POV

George woke up to the sound of guards murmuring outside his room. It was shortly before dawn. He got up quickly and ran quietly to the door. He wanted to know if something was happening. George pressed his ear against the door and listened.

"Make sure to keep the Prince in his room..." a voice muttered. George strained to listen.

"... yeah we just found him... on the gate." George pressed his ear more tightly to the door.

"When?"

"... few minutes ago... it's awful... I almost threw up."

George furrowed his eyebrows. What are they talking about? They used the word 'him'. Clay?

George pulled away from the door. He quickly changed from his pajamas.

"Guard?" George asked through the door.

The voices had stopped. The door opened and a figure stepped in, blocking his way out.

"What can I do for you Prince George?" a guard George didn't recognized asked.

"I think there's something wrong in my bathroom," George quickly lied, "there's water on the floor and I don't know the cause."

The guard nodded and walked past George. He walked into the bathroom before George. George shoved the door closed and locked it.

"Hey!" the guard slammed against the door. "Prince let me out immediately!"

George ignored him and hid behind his bedroom door. The second guard entered the room and rushed towards the bathroom door. George slipped past him and ran through the corridors. He sprinted past guards who jumped into action. George weaved around them, desperate to find Clay.

"Prince, stop!" Bad shouted as he ran past. "You shouldn't go out there!"

George shook his head in annoyance and continued towards the gates. He pushed through the men around the gate. He shoved past Wilbur and the other members of the Royal Council. George stuttered to a stop when he saw the gate.

George vomited at the sight. He couldn't make out the figure. It was a man. He was alive, just barely. His shoulders moved up and down weakly. The man's head was fallen to his chest, making it hard to see the face. There was a pool of blood around his feet. It dripped from his face, down his chest, and stained his pants a deep crimson. George paled when he saw a wooden board nailed to the man's stomach.

A hand gripped his shoulder, interrupting his thoughts. George turned around to face Wilbur.

"You should go back to your room. This isn't a sight for a prince." Wilbur said grimly.

George shrugged off the hand. "Why haven't you taken him down?! This surely is not helping him!"

"We don't know if moving him would injure him further."

George sighed. "I'll do it myself then. We need to help whoever this is." George said and walked forward.

"Wait, Prince-" Wilbur cut off when George ignored him.

George grimaced and walked toward the man. An unsettling feeling rose in his stomach. The man seemed familiar in some way. George stepped through the blood slowly and read the sign, before looking at the man's face. His stomach dropped at the message. George felt a tear slide down his cheek in pity and sadness for the man.

George lifted the man's bloody chin to get a better lood. He covered his mouth in shock as he looked at Clay's face.

"C-Clay?" George whispered.

He was unconscious, but it was definitely Clay. George let out a sob.

"No. Nononono. This can't be happening." George whispered, starting to panic.

He held Clay's face in his hands. George saw the new wound on Clay's face. George whimpered. He brushed the ends of Clay's hair out of his face. There was so much blood.

George frantically yanked the nail and board out of Clay's stomach. People shouted at him. George just scrambled to untie Clay's bonds.

"Help me please!" George cried out, his voice cracking.

A few guards stepped forward and untied Clay. He fell forward onto George. George struggled under Clay's weight.

"He needs to see a healer!" George shouted at the men around him.

He wondered why they were so slow to help him. Several guards lifted Clay off George. They carried him towards the infirmary. George kept a fast pace next to them, not taking his eyes off Clay.

George choked out a small sob. He's been through so much already. What's going to happen now?

George hoped Clay was going to be okay. He couldn't imagine going through all of that. George shuddered at the thought. He swallowed thickly and looked away. They were nearing the infirmary.

The guards laid Clay on a small bed. A healer came in and paled.

"What the hell happened?" she asked, her mouth opened wide.

George ignored her question. "Can you heal him?" George asked, his voice wavering.

"Of course, but it won't be pleasant." she frowned and rushed to Clay's side. "I need lots of cloth and a bucket of water!" she yelled.

A servant rushed off at her order. She placed her hand on Clay's head.

"Thank god he doesn't have a fever, which means there's no infection yet." she exhaled and turned to George. "What's his name? So I know what to call him when he wakes."

"It's Cl- Dream." George looked at Clay. His stomach twisted at the sight.

She nodded and the servant returned. The healer frowned at all the soldiers behind George. "Can you all please leave? I need this space to work."

The guards grumbled and left. George pulled a stool and sat across from the healer. She dipped a white cloth into the bucket and gently washed off the blood.

"I'm gonna need more buckets," she said. The servant nodded and scurried off.

She looked at George, who was looking at Clay with worry and fear. The healer handed George a damp cloth.

"You can clean his face if you'd like?" she said in a question.

George nodded, thankful to be able to help. He delicately cleansed Clay's face and hair. A tear slid down his cheek. He brushed away stray hairs on Clay's forehead.

"How do you know him?" the healer asked softly.

"He's my guard." George glanced at her briefly. He swallowed. "He saved my life..." George gestured to Clay's wrapped shoulder, "only to be tortured."

George looked down. He bit his cheek. More tears fell.

"He must mean a lot to you," she whispered.

George looked up, but he didn't reply. The healer was applying pressure to the nail wound. The blood kept flowing. She looked at George concerned.

"This isn't going to be pretty," she warned, frowning.

She grabbed a steel rod with a flat end. The healer places the flat end in hot coals. George's stomach dropped, he knew what was going to happen next.

"We need to cauterize the wound to stop the bleeding." she explained and took the steel out of the coals.

George grimaced and nodded. She held it over Clay's stomach. George clasped Clay's hand.

"Three, two, one." The healer set the steel over the wound. A small sizzling noise echoed as the hot steel met flesh.

Clay groaned suddenly, but stayed unconscious.

"That's a good sign," she murmured and put away the steel rod. "You can go now if you'd like. Dream is going to be unconscious for a long while but... he's going to be okay."

He's going to be okay.

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