Never Let Go || 𝘋𝘕𝘍

Medical Attention

When they got there, George opened the back door and was forced to pull Dream out by his feet. He grabbed Dream's arms and began half-carrying half-dragging him towards the building, calling for help. Some guy and a girl heard George and the guy helped carry him while the girl ran inside to alert the nurses.

"What happened?" A nurse asked when they got to the front doors.

"He was jumped," George replied, not wanting to reveal that Dream had gotten into an illegal fistfight with some random student.

"Did you see who jumped him?" She asked.

"No," George lied. The nurse called for a stretcher and almost immediately, a different nurse came running with one. The first nurse checked his pulse before laying him down and beginning to roll him away.

"Wait, is he going to make it?" George called after them, his voice strained and taut.

"Please stay back, sir. We are going to do our best," one of the nurses replied before opening a door and rolling him through it. The door slammed behind them, and then the hallway went silent. The only thing George could hear was the beating of his own heart.

"Hey, man, are you alright?" Asked the guy who had helped, and George realized he was standing beside him. He had an English accent, too.

"Yeah," George replied, but he couldn't control the fear in his heart or the trembling of his hands.

"Do you want to sit down?" The girl asked as she pulled up a chair. George hesitantly sat down and ran his bloody fingers through his hair.

"I'm Wilbur, and this is my friend Niki. Is there anything we could do to help you out?" Wilbur introduced himself with a friendly smile. George shook his head.

"No, Wilbur, but thanks for your help. Both of you," he said, trying to put on a calm face.

"The least we could do would be to buy you some lunch and keep you company. Was that your friend?" Niki asked kindly.

George hesitated for a moment, feeling the anger come back suddenly as he thought about how Dream had done such a stupid thing. "We've only just met," George said. "But yeah, he's my friend." He added. Isn't he more than that? He thought to himself.

"Wilbur, why don't you get us some sandwiches?" Niki asked and Wilbur nodded before walking towards the exit. Niki turned to George. "I'll stay here with you," she said before pulling up another of the lobby chairs and sitting beside him. George looked at her – her kind eyes, and caring nature.

"Thank you," George said before looking down at his hands. They were covered in dried blood and dirt. "Excuse me," he said quietly before making his way over to the bathroom, where he washed his hands thoroughly with soap. He looked in the mirror and was surprised to see there were tears in his eyes. "Fuck, Dream... I don't want to lose you," he said quietly, and when he blinked a tear rolled down his cheek. With a scoff, he bent over the sink and rinsed his face with cold water. "Stop being a baby," he scolded himself before drying his face and walking back over to where Niki was surprisingly still sitting.

"It's okay to cry," she said as he sat back down. George glanced at her.

"I'm not crying."

"It helps with the pain."

"I'm not in any pain."

"Yes you are," she said. George looked at her.

"I barely know him. He was being an idiot, and got himself into a fight. That's why he's here," George said.

"You don't 'barely' know him. If you barely knew him, you would have been gone by now. You care about him, don't you?" She asked. "Admit it. You don't have to say it to me, but denying it won't make your life any easier," she said wisely. George scoffed, but he didn't argue back.

A few minutes later, Wilbur came back with three sandwiches in hand and some cokes. He handed George one of the sandwiches and pulled up a chair to sit beside Niki. "Thank you, Wilbur. This is very nice of you both," George said as he unwrapped the foil from around the sandwich. He took a bite, obeying his hungry stomach, which had not yet received any food today.

"It's the least we could do," Niki repeated.

"Yes. I'll always help a fellow Brit," Wilbur joked, and George smiled. "I lived in Brighton before I moved here," Wilbur added.

"No way, so did I!" George said, and Wilbur's eyes widened.

"Wow! Coincidence? I think not."

"Small world," George commented.

"I suppose so," Wilbur agreed.

"You two are funny," Niki said.

Thirty minutes passed, then an hour. Wilbur and Niki left sometime during that period, leaving him with some laughs and heart-to-heart conversations. They were nice. Finally after what seemed like hours of George sitting alone, playing on his phone or texting the others to find out what happened, a nurse pushed through one of the doors and walked towards him. George stood up and faced her, heart racing for what she was going to say.

"Your friend is stable, but he is unconscious and we don't know when he will wake up. He needed five stitches and we gave him some morphine for his broken nose. We couldn't find a wallet on him – what did you say his name was?" The nurse asked.

"I didn't. And, uh... I don't know his real name, but his nickname is Dream," he admitted. The nurse wrote it down on her clipboard. "So, he's going to make it?" George asked.

"Yes, we think so. He got beat up pretty bad though. When he arrived his airway was almost fully blocked, so he's lucky you got him here when you did. Are you sure you didn't see the person who jumped him?" She asked.

"Yeah, he got away before I could see his face," George added to his lie. The nurse nodded.

"I'm sorry. This area of town isn't the safest, so I'd suggest carrying pepper spray or a taser if you want to go out alone," she said understandingly. George felt bad for lying to her, but he knew if anyone found out Dream was in a public fistfight he could get in trouble.

"Yeah. Uh- thank you. Can I visit him?" George asked.

"Of course. This way," the nurse said as she led him through the door she came out of. George followed closely, anxious to see Dream and make sure he was alright. Soon they were at Dream's room and she opened the door for him.

"Thank you," George said as he stepped inside. When he caught sight of Dream laying on the white bed, surrounded by white pillows, walls, curtains and machines, he sighed. "This is your fault, you know," George said after a few seconds of taking in Dream's injuries. George acted angry, but he was secretly glad that Dream was okay, and he was flattered that he would pick a fight on his behalf. A stupid fight... but nobody had ever done that for him before.

George sat in a chair beside Dream's bed before glancing at his watch and realizing his next class began in five minutes. He shrugged and went on his phone, going into Bad's contact and texting, Dream is unconscious but fine. He broke his nose and got five stitches. I'm gonna stay with him for the day.

A few seconds later Bad replied with, ok good. We are all at Sapnap's place, butterfly-stitching him up. Lemme know if anything changes. Sapnap is worried about him.

Will do. Ttyl.

Bye.

George sat back in the chair and sighed, looking at Dream's messed-up face. He had two black eyes and cuts and bruises covering his face and hands. He had one big cut on his lip, which was where the stitches were needed, and multiple smaller cuts on his forehead and cheeks that were held together by butterfly stitches. He also had purple marks on his neck where Brad had tried to choke him out. Dream's nose had one of those nose-cast things on it for broken noses, and his finger was hooked up to a heartrate monitor while a drip bag was connected to the vein in his arm. George couldn't help but feel bad for him despite his stupidity. Did he really just go around fighting everyone he saw?

After about another hour of waiting for Dream to wake up George felt exhaustion begin to tug at his mind. Before he knew it, he was encased in a dark, dreamless sleep.