TW/CW: eating disorder/anorexia, hospitals, strange behavior, suggested abuse/manipulation, eating
Previously...
"C'mon, I'll take you back to my place and we can hang out, relax, watch some TV or something." Wilbur led Dream out of the hospital, turning to look at him with sympathetic eyes. "George will be fine. You can't get too worked up over it, okay? I know it's hard, I'm struggling with this too, but we need to stay strong. For George."
"Right." Dream nodded solemnly. "You're right. For George."
3rd Person P.O.V.
A day or two had passed, and George was finally given the okay to leave the hospital. He had been spoken to by many doctors and nurses, including the resident psychologist. His diagnosis had been confirmed (which had been the assumption, but it was good to be absolutely sure), and arrangements for weekly check-ins had been made.
George wasn't too happy about it, still caught up in the fact that he had been forced to gain weight against his will. He was fine! He didn't need to be treated like this, and he certainly didn't have an eating disorder.
Luckily though, he would get to leave the hospital very soon. He had been taken off the feeding tube early in the morning, and now he just had to eat something solid to be officially discharged.
"Alright, George." The nurse placed a small plate of apple slices in front of him, stepping back to observe. "Apple slices."
"Is this really necessary?" George questioned, giving the fruit a side eye. "I'm an adult, I can take care of myself just fine."
"Nobody's saying you can't. This is just standard procedure; you need to do this to be discharged." The brunette scoffed lightly, gritting his teeth.
"This is stupid," he muttered, picking up one of the apple slices. He took a bite of it, chewing painstakingly slow. He made eye contact with the nurse as he did so, glaring at her. She had done nothing wrong, of course, but George's priorities were pretty out-of-whack.
"Alright, I did it. Can I go home now?" George crossed his arms, raising an eyebrow expectantly. The nurse sighed, writing something down on her clipboard.
"Yes, you can. Your friends are waiting for you outside." George swung his legs over the side of his bed, kicking his feet for a moment before standing up. The nurse handed him a slip of paper, watching him with narrowed eyes.
"What?"
"Your first weight check is on Friday. Don't miss it." She waved him forward, allowing him to leave. She escorted George to the waiting room, where Dream and Wilbur were waiting.
"George!" Dream gasped, excitedly hugging the smaller boy. "You get to go home!" George tried to wrestle out of Dream's hug, but the blond was much stronger than him.
"Dream," he groaned, pushing at Dream's arm. "Let me go!" Dream released his death grip on the brunette, grinning sheepishly.
"Sorry," he chuckled awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. "I'm just really happy to see you."
"I..." George looked at the ground, frowning. "Can I please just go home..." Dream frowned, deflating a little. Wilbur placed a hand on the American's shoulder, nodding.
"Yeah George, we can go home," Wilbur agreed. "Dream and I are coming with you, though." George exhaled loudly, clearly upset.
"I'm fine. I can take care of myself. I don't need a babysitter," he insisted.
"Nobody's being babysat. We just want to hang out with you," Wilbur replied. "Plus, Dream came all the way from America to see you." George crossed his arms, frown deepening.
"Nobody asked him to do that." Dream's eyes widened, his tall stature shrinking back slightly. George's words felt like a stab to the heart, and he was really feeling it.
"He cares about you, George. He flew out here to support you." Wilbur was frowning, eyebrows furrowed. George grit his teeth, glaring down at the floor.
"I want to go home."
~
One short and silent ride later, Dream, Wilbur, and George were all at George's house. Immediately, the smallest of the three retreated back into his room, closing the door to keep Dream and Wilbur out.
"Wil?" Dream murmured, slumping into a chair.
"Yeah, Dream?" Wilbur was searching George's house for food, the fridge, pantry, cabinets, all of it.
"Do you think George doesn't want me here?"
Wilbur paused, turning around from the fridge to look at the blond. Dream was slouching heavily, frowning with his eyes downcast. He was definitely upset, and Wilbur didn't blame him.
"I think... I think George is feeling a bit overwhelmed right now," he mused. "He just got out of the hospital, and you're suddenly in England, plus I'm here..." Wilbur shrugged. "It's a lot. Plus... I don't think he's in the best headspace right now, either. I mean..." Wilbur gestured to the empty pantry and fridge, frowning. "He's clearly struggling. There's literally no food in here." Wilbur picked up a small package, examining it briefly before adding: "Except for this package of crackers. And I think these are stale, too."
"God, George..." Dream shook his head. "How could I not have noticed earlier?"
"Don't blame yourself. I didn't notice either. Plus he was hiding it from us," Wilbur pointed out, closing the fridge. "If we hadn't overheard in the hospital, then we wouldn't even know now. George is..." He sighed. "George is stubborn. He doesn't like to accept help from others, even when he really needs it. Like now, he really needs help and support, but he's trying to push us away," Wilbur explained.
"But why? We just want to help, it's not like we're smothering him or anything." Dream frowned, narrowing his eyes in thought. "We're not smothering him. Right?"
"I don't think so," Wilbur agreed. "But he needs his space. Let him be, if he wants to talk then he will. For now... I think I'll go out. Get some groceries." He nodded, walking toward the door. Before he made it out the door, however, Wilbur turned back to point a finger at Dream. "Don't do anything stupid while I'm gone."
"I won't," Dream assured him. "I'll just hang around until you get back, probably." Wilbur nodded, waving a little as he opened the door.
"Alright. See you soon."
"Bye. Be safe."
~
Dream had been on his phone for nearly half an hour now, and he was growing restless. Really, he just wanted to see George. Instead of an ocean separating them, it was just a door... and yet, it felt even less accessible to him. It was weird. Dream thought that coming to England would help him grow closer to George, when in fact it felt like they were getting pushed apart.
The blond stood up, pacing a bit before deciding to take a look around George's home. Nothing too invasive, just a self-guided tour. Y'know, since George wasn't going to be giving one any time soon.
Dream walked around the perimeter of George's living room, taking a look at some of the pictures that bordered the walls. There were a few of George's family, one or two with Wilbur and a few other friends, and some black and white art pieces. Funny, Dream never took George to be the artsy type.
He continued looking around, coming across another picture frame. This one was on an end table, and instead of leaning against the frame stand it was laying flat against the table. Upon closer inspection, Dream could see what looked like shards of glass scattered around the picture frame, almost as if it had been slammed down against the table in a fit of raw emotion.
Carefully, Dream picked up the picture frame, making sure to avoid the glass. He stared at the picture, trying to let every little detail sink in.
It was a picture of George and another man, nobody that Dream recognized. He had jet-black hair, olive skin, and piercing blue eyes that made the blond feel unsettled just looking at them. The man had his arm around George's shoulder, maybe a little too tight. The smaller boy was smiling in the picture, but it wasn't genuine– Dream always knew when George was faking a smile. In fact, he looked almost uncomfortable, leaning into the other man in a way that seemed forced. The picture made Dream's stomach churn, anxiety bubbling up inside of him.
Who was that man in the picture? Why was he holding George like that, and why did George seem so uncomfortable? Why was the picture frame broken? Why did George keep so much from him?
Dream frowned, haphazardly tossing the picture frame back onto the table. He wasn't sure if he wanted to get any further into that right now... not when there were other things to worry about. Maybe it wasn't even that important.
I was trying to post this while I walked 2 miles for gym but I guess not
whatever we got there eventually