"Get him out of here!" a first responder shouted.
Paramedics lifted Clay onto a stretcher, carrying him out of the boat. George stumbled after them, shaking the blanket off his shoulders.
Clay's hand was hanging limply over the edge of the stretcher, stained red with blood. He was still soaked, but his lips looked dry. He looked lifeless.
George ran alongside the stretcher, clutching Clay's hand and whispering, "It's okay, Clay, it's okay. You're gonna be okay."
His hand was disconnected from Clay's as he was lifted into the ambulance. George shoved his way past the paramedics and took a seat in the corner of the ambulance, watching numbly as the workers frantically tried to help Clay, placing an oxygen mask over his mouth and nose.
It seemed like ages, but eventually they were at the hospital and Clay was being pulled into an emergency room. George walked quickly with the workers to stay with Clay, but someone stopped him from entering.
George tried to push past the worker, but a firm hand held him back. The worker explained, "Sorry, sir, but only healthcare workers are allowed beyond this point. You can sit in the waiting room until the operation is over."
"I can't. Clay― he needs me, I have to be there for him," George said quickly, his eyes never leaving Clay until he was pulled around a corner.
George looked desperately at the worker, a young brown haired man with glasses. He pleaded, "Please, let me be with him."
The worker gave him a sympathetic look, replying softly, "I'm sorry, but you'll have to wait in the waiting room... we can supply dry clothes for you, if you'd want."
"I don't fucking want dry clothes!" George shouted. His voice broke into a whisper, "I just want to be with him."
The worker nodded understandingly. "I know. You can see him in a few hours, when the operation is complete. Until then, I'll show you our waiting room. We offer food and blankets, does that sound okay?"
George's shoulders sagged in defeat and he nodded weakly. The worker led him through a few hallways and soon George was sitting in a chair, his limbs screaming in pain at him. He didn't look up as Karl ran into the room.
Karl raced to his side and asked, "Is he okay?"
"I think so," George whispered, staring at the floor.
Karl sighed in relief. He gave George a long look and left the room, coming back with a pair of clothes. he handed them to George and said, "Are you okay? Here, you're still wet. Change into these and you'll feel better."
George nodded and took the clothes. His legs protested as he stood up, but George pushed past the pain and entered the bathroom. He changed in a few minutes, but his eyes snagged on his reflection in the bathroom mirror.
His hair was an absolute mess, disheveled and sticking out in every direction. His eyes were red from both the ocean water and his crying and his nose was runny for the same reasons. He smoothed his hair down, wincing. At least his clothes were clean. George now wore black sweatpants and a blue long sleeved t-shirt.
George walked back to the waiting room and collapsed on a chair. Karl observed his mood and launched into conversation. Karl knew George wasn't listening and he knew George wouldn't add to the conversation, but Karl supplied story upon story. His talking kept George awake, and for that, George was grateful.
Hours later, when George couldn't take anymore waiting, the door to the room opened. The same worker from before entered, a small smile on his face. George leapt up at the sight of him and Karl's voice trailed off.
"Would you like to see him?" the kind worker asked.
George nodded immediately, at a loss for words. He was immediately relieved at the news that Clay was alive and not... well, you know.
George followed the worker and Karl stayed behind in the waiting room, letting George have his time with Clay. George was led into an average size hospital room and he rushed to Clay. He didn't notice that the worker left immediately.
He pulled up a chair and grabbed Clay's hand gently. Clay was unconscious, deep in sleep. His head was leaning to the side, soft breaths coming from his parted lips. George rubbed a thumb over Clay's knuckles, smiling in relief.
Clay lived. He was alive. An overwhelming wave of relief crashed over him. He leaned forward, resting his head on the mattress next to Clay's head. He couldn't help it, so his eyes drifted close, his breathing deepened, and he fell asleep, holding Clay's hand.
~
Pure exhaustion had consumed his body and George slept peacefully for several hours.
He was dragged to consciousness as he felt gentle fingers sifting through his hair. Nails scraped lightly over his scalp, causing George's eyes to flutter open.
His sleepy eyes met Clay's tired ones and George sighed in relief. A tear slid down his cheek as he took in Clay's awake features. With a soft smile, warm eyes, and familiar freckles, it was a sight George had missed.
He took a shaky breath and mumbled, "I thought I lost you."
"I'm here, George," Clay assured him quietly, "I'm here."
"I love you."
Clay smiled, unable to hide his happiness. He bit his lip and murmured, "I love you."
George lifted his head and Clay's hand fell from his hair. George took that hand in his own, watching as their fingers interlaced. George squeezed and Clay squeezed back, another reminder that Clay was very much alive.
"You know," Clay remarked, "you called me your superhero, but I think it's the other way around."
George met Clay's eyes and teased, "Oh yeah?"
"You saved me, George."
George's smile faltered and he muttered, "I almost didn't."
"But you did," Clay said, "and thanks to you, I get to see my sister again."
"Thanks to you, Wilbur is dead," George added, "you stopped the monster and now... now we have time to be what we want. We can be together, if that's what you want."
"Of course I want that. I―"
"Clay!" a familiar voice shouted from outside the room. Jaimie shoved the door open, ignoring a nurse's protest and ran to the other side of the hospital bed, opposite of George. Her hair was out of her braid and now tumbled down her shoulders in loose waves and she still wore the same clothes that George last saw her in.
Jaimie's face was lit with pure joy and her smile only grew when Clay said, "You better not have pissed off any of the nice workers here."
Jaimie shoved playfully at Clay's shoulder and hummed. She said, "Those stupid officers wouldn't let me leave the station for ages. I thought you died... I may have kicked one of your friends in the balls."
Clay blinked in surprise, asking, "Wait, which friend?"
"Oh, the short one... kept calling me a 'pequeña mierda' whatever that means. To be fair― he did deserve it. I didn't like his jokes, they were stupid."
Clay's wide eyes looked to George and they both burst into laughter. Clay's face twisted in pain and he looked to his stomach, like he remembered that he was shot. He said to Jaimie, "I hope Quackity isn't too pissed off... did you see Nick yet?"
Jaimie tilted her head. "Nick? Which one is Nick?"
"The one who always wears a bandana, do you remember him?"
Jaimie shook her head. "I didn't see a Nick. Who is he?"
Clay smiled softly. "You'll see."
Just then, the door to the room opened and Karl walked in, Sapnap following from behind. Sapnap didn't see Jaimie, his eyes landing on Clay and his face crumpling in relief. He let out a long exhale and half heartedly joked, "Nothing can kill us Clay, we're invincible."
Clay smiled and jerked his chin to Jaimie, who was looking at Sapnap with an expression of confusion. Her brows were furrowed and she asked, "Do I know you? I feel like I know you."
"No way," Sapnap said, mouth open, "Little J?"
A spark of recognition crossed Jaimie's face, but it didn't click. Sapnap laughed and strode forward, reaching a hair to ruffle Jaimie's hair. He teased, "I had a feeling that you were the one who Quackity was bitching about. Long time no see."
Jaimie's eyes searched Sapnap's features and her eyes widened. "Wait, you're Nick. The Nick from the alley?"
"Why am I known as the alley guy?" Sapnap asked, looking at Clay.
Clay shrugged and Sapnap let out an 'oof' as Jaimie ran into him, hugging him fiercely. Sapnap grinned, his eyes finding Karl's. Karl smiled softly and gave Sapnap a thumbs up.
Jaimie pulled away and sat back down. Sapnap sat next to her and Karl sat next to George. Sapnap said, "Alright, Little J, fill me in. What have you been doing for the past six years?"
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a/n - last chapter out tomorrow :)
BYE!! <3