Jealousy // dreamnotfound

::25::

tw// mentions of throwing up, abuse & bruises

Dream doesn't know what he expects when he goes home before lunch. He has an hour before lunchtime and without Sapnap, he's half expecting to be alone. In his eyes, George probably would have left already without a word.

He didn't.

He's on Dream's bed, but he looks, to put it lightly, terrible.

He looks pale, like he's been throwing up all morning, and he seems antsy when Dream enters the room. He jumps at the sound and his eyes dart around.

"Hey," Dream says lightly. George only offers him a wave before coughing for a short while. "How are you feeling?"

"Pretty bad," George rasps out. "I'm sorry, I should've been gone by now. I just- I can't seem to get up for more than a few minutes at a time."

"Have you eaten anything?" Dream asks, walking over to his small makeshift medicine cabinet. He grabs a digital thermometer and some antacid tablets.

George shakes his head. "I haven't. Whenever I get up to try, I rush to the bathroom and throw up. It hurts, so I've just been lying here."

"Here, take some of this. I'll get you some bread, it's good for your stomach. Although it would be better as toast, Sapnap and I don't have a toaster," Dream chuckles, seeing George smile. "Let me grab you an ice pack too, your eye is still pretty swollen."

"Thanks," George mutters, seemingly unsure of whether letting Dream take care of him is okay or not.

"You really should let me change the bandage on your cheek," Dream says, looking over George's face. He's healed a little bit since Friday, but the bruise still doesn't look the greatest. He can't even see the cut, though.

"Just leave it, it'll be fine," George mutters, covering his cheek with his hand.

Dream rolls his eyes. "Just let me take care of you right now, you need it."

"Don't tell me what I need," George says with a scoff and cross of his arms. Dream laughs and grabs a new bandage anyway, moving his hands cautiously to George's face. The brunette lets him, and he takes it off, examining the cut.

It's not too bad, but clearly George hadn't taken care of it. It seems like he just slapped a bandage on it and called it a day. "George, you have to clean cuts like this or they'll get infected."

"Okay, sorry mom," George rolls his eyes.

Dream scoffs and cleans out the cut anyway, pinching George's nose so the stench of rubbing alcohol doesn't bother his stomach or head anymore. He puts another bandage on the wound and throws the old one away.

"See? Was that so difficult?" Dream asks, question fully intended to be rhetorical.

"Yes," George says, but the next second he's clutching his stomach and rushing to the bathroom. Dream winces as he hears George throw up, not wanting to hear him in even the slightest bit of pain.

Dream continues to help George for the next half hour before he has to leave.

"I have to go to lunch now so that Alex isn't alone, even though he has Skeppy and Bad. You should've heard him last time I skipped lunch-" Dream rambles on. "Anyway, I'll stop by after lunch with something healthy for you to eat. Just try to rest for a little bit, text me if you need anything."

"You'll be in class," George mutters stubbornly, arms crossed.

"That doesn't matter. I'll call over Fundy or someone if I have to," Dream says, not catching the way George's eyes narrow at the name. He only mentioned Fundy because he's the only person he can think of without an actual class to go to after lunch; the only one Dream trusts.