Oneshot No. 412 (1086 Words)

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TW: bit graphic

GEORGES PERSPECTIVE:

Dream calls me.

Finally, it's 1 in the morning and he said he would be back four hours ago at 9.

"Who's calling you?" Nick asks.

"Dream," I answer plainly.

"Jesus... about time..."

"Hello?" I say into the phone.

"George," Dream says. He's out of breathe, I can hear cars driving by him, he sounds incredibly worried. "1912 Lorenzo drive- you have to come get me, and bring alcohol and- and- and bandages and you have to come, now," Dream chokes out. I look at Nick.

"Get in the car," I tell him. I keep the phone to my ear with one hand and grab alcohol and wrapping bandages from the kitchen.

"Where's the address? Is it- is it a house? How far away is it? Why are you th-"

"It's a factory. I'm out the front of it. 1912 Lorenzo Drive," Dream says. "I cant tell you anything else right now. Just hurry the fuck up."

I get there, and Dream jumps into the car. He's bleeding like crazy, and there's some really sketchy people around. I pull over where he tells me to, and he grabs the bottle of vodka and bandages. He pulls his shirt off and there is so so so much blood.

"I think I'm gonna be sick," Nick says, covering his mouth.

"What the fuck happened to you?!" I ask, frantically. Dream takes a long sip of the vodka, then bites down onto his shirt that he's balled up. He takes the vodka and douses his forearms in it.

"OH MY GOD!" Nick exclaims. It's painful just watching.

His forearms are completely sliced up. His chest has a massive gash going right across diagonally, and he has a huge cut on his neck. His jaw is scraped and so is his face. His nose is a bit crooked and his left hand looks like it was stabbed.

He puts the vodka all over the bleeding and the wounds and bandages them up poorly.

"That's it, I'm taking you to a hospital," I say, turning the car back on.

Dream, on the verge of tears because of the pain, says, "no you're fucking not. We're going home. And if I see that we're on the highway to the hospital I'll jump out of the fucking car." He goes to move over to the window, but he pauses.

"Everything ok?" Nick asks.

"Yeha I just felt a little funny for a second," Dream says. "I think I'm gonna pass out," he says, voice draining.

"No, no, no, no, you have to tell us what happened to you," I say, looking back at him.

"I'm... I'm gonna pass out," he whispers. He gets on his back and lays down, and before you know it, he's out cold.

I take the opportunity to book it to the hospital before he wakes up.

"He said he wanted to go home," Nick says.

"I don't care. Look at him. He's almost fucking dead," I say. I pull into the emergency parking lot, and Park the car.

"I'm gonna run in to the ER, tell staff that I need a gurney to get him in and you stay here and try wake him up."

"O-okay," Nick says. I get out of the car and chuck the keys to Nick. I rush into the ER and tell the nearest  nurse that my friend needs help.

"And what's your friends name?" She asks.

"Um, shit, it's-" i suddenly forget his last name, but it comes to me a second later. "Clay- Clay Cooper," I stutter.

She goes to the front desk and calls for more help. But the one thing that sticks out is that she mentions the police.

Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh shit, what if I've just dug Dream into some deep, deep shit? But- but what could he be involved in that got him beat up? And that wasn't just beat up, that was a full assault. Fuck, I- I shouldntve said anything, I should've just taken him home like he asked and-

"Hello??! Can you hear me?? Where is he?" The nurse exclaims.

"Wh-what?" I say, my recollection shattering and I come back to reality.

"Your friend. Where is he."

"In- In the back of my car, in the parking lot," I say, frantically.

"Okay. And do you know what happened to him?" She says as two doctors and one more nurse wheel out a gurney.

"No- he passed out before he told us anything," I say. I come with the doctors and nurses as they tug Dream onto the gurney. They hook him up to the heart monitor almost instantly, and his BPM is at 4. He's almost dead. The four staff start calling out medical terms and get him into a room. I try to go with them but a man stops me and Nick.

It's a cop.

"You can't go with them." He says.

"What? Why-"

"You need to answer a few questions first."

A few minutes later, we're in a room at the hospital with no one else but the cop, Nick and I in there.

"Respectfully, why do we need to talk to you?" I say.

"You don't think it's suspicious that he refuses to say what caused him to be in that state? On the verge of death?"

"Well, yeah, but- I don't know, I don't think there's needs for the cops." I sit down in one of the only 3 chairs in the room.

"Well has he ever been apart of gangs? Or any affiliation or communication with them?" The cop asks. I read his badge.

DET. SEI

"You're a detective?" I ask.

"Answer the question," Sei says.

"No. He's never been involved with fucking gangs," I spit.

"Look, I'm not trying to get your friend in any trouble-"

"You're a cop," Nick chimes.

"-I'm just trying to see why he's in trouble."

"He's not in trouble." I say.

"Well he clearly is. A lot of young people getting bashed recently," Sei argues.

"He's not a teenager," I say.

"He's 22." Nick says.

"That's still fucking young," Sei says. "Just- has he been in trouble recently? With anyone, literally anyone."

"No. I've said this before," I say.

"I'll let you go, but I'm talking to him when he wakes up."

"No, you're not. He hasn't done anything. We don't need the pigs involved," I say. I grab my jacket, but Sei stops me.

"I'm gonna find out what he's been doing."

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