Manburg Underground

Remember?

"G-George?" Dream whispered, looking up. George's eyes were half open, blinking slowly, and he let out a groan. "Shit- George!" Dream exclaimed, fully realizing what this meant. "I- nurse!" He called, wiping his eyes and jumping up to find Maia.

George gagged and coughed as the breathing tube was removed from his throat . He winced at the burning in his chest, and Maia propped his head up. He turned his gaze to where Dream sat next to him, eyes slowly taking in every feature of his face.

"You're awake." Dream whispered, grabbing George's hand again. "I can't believe you're awake."

Unable to form a coherent sentence, George simply nodded and closed his eyes. He was exhausted. Normally, when he woke up after a long sleep, he was full of energy, but this was different. His body was trying to fully reboot itself. Recovery was going to be a very hard process.

And it was. For two weeks, George was kept in the hospital, relearning how to walk and going in for testing. Finally, he was discharged, and with a rental car using his fake id, Dream was able to safely drive him back to their apartment.

George was taken aback by how clean it was. Dream had spent his time deep cleaning the blood off of the floor, cleaning the apartment of dust and grime, and making sure George was as comfortable as possible upon his return. "Clay?" He said, turning and looking up at the man standing next to him.

"It was the least I could do," Dream admitted, leading George inside. "I wanted to make sure it was nice. I'm not really that good at house things but...I tried my best. I don't know how well I did though. The sheets are probably wrinkled since I couldn't figure out how to get the fitted sheet on correctly, and I think I broke the garbage disposal. It was making a really weird noise. I also broke a plate-"

George silenced Dream with an unexpected kiss on the cheek. "It looks great," he said softly, and entered the main room using his crutches, leaving Dream in shock to contemplate what had just happened.

"Clay, what the fuck?" George called when he entered the bedroom. Where Dream's bed had been was now a large desk, holding duel monitors and a gaming keyboard, half taken apart was sitting on the edge, next to a half assembled microphone. "You-"

"It's not done," Dream interrupted. "I thought you were coming home tomorrow, but that's my bad. I can finish setting stuff up tomorrow. I contacted your friend...Calvin or something? No- Callahan. He showed me how to hook up the monitors and then I figured out the rest.

"I wanted to rewire your keyboard too. I saw a clip of your stream when you walked through your favorite keybinds and you said you customized your keyboard to fit them. I...hope you like it."

"Where the hell will you sleep?!" George exclaimed, leaning on his bed frame for balance.

Dream shrugged. "I guess I'll take the couch until I can reorganize the empty guest bedroom. I also read a coding book or two and watched some videos, so we can maybe upload a new video to your channel. I can be like...an editor."

George smile grew wider and he immediately sat in the comfortable office chair, powering on his computer.

George's first livestream held the largest audience he'd ever had, and he peaked at 267,931 concurrent viewers. He did it without a face cam, feeling self conscious about the large scar from his cheek to his left eye, but he answered almost every question honestly.

He read out a five dollar donation. "Are you living alone through all of this? Where is the guy who helped you at the hospital??" He turned to where Dream sat on the bed, legs crossed. George muted his mic and tilted his head, removing the headset. "Wanna say something?" He stood up and Dream took his place.