George & The Dream

Six

June 4th 2021

Dream turned around, but was just a bit too late. The final creeper exploded, causing him to loose his balance. He fell over, feeling a couple pieces of debris, most likely rocks, cut through the skin on his shoulder. He hit his head on the floor.

For some reason, he didn't even care.

At least they didn't blow up George.

When the smoke of the explosion cleared, George was able to stand up. He rushed over to Dream, who was trying to sir up on his own.

"Hey," George slid to his knees, "Be careful."

Dream coughed from behind his mask, "Are you okay?"

George laughed, "That's silly, asking me. I'm not the one who just got blown up."

"Doesn't matter," replied Dream, "I still want to know if you're okay."

George smiled, "I'm fine."

"Good, I guess."

"Now, come on, I gotta help you get fixed up," George stood. He lightly dusted off his pants, "Do you need help?"

Dream grunted as he hoisted himself into a sitting position, "No, I don't need your help."

"Please," George rolled his eyes, "You're hurt, I can fix that."

Dream looked over to his arm, which was obviously damaged. He'd been hurt tons of times, though. Why would he need this boy to fix him?

"I can handle myself," Dream said harshly, "I've never needed anyone else to do it for me."

"But, you have someone now to help," responded George, "Take advantage of the years I learned about healing potions."

Dream looked over to him.

"Like, seriously," George crossed his arms, "I can fix you right up, you don't have to be in pain because of me."

"It's not because of you," Dream stated.

George shrugged, "I mean, we wouldn't have been in this situation if I hadn't come outside."

"That was my fault," Dream winced, "I'm sorry, or whatever. I shouldn't have yelled at you, you just.."

"I understand," George quietly said standing back up, "Just, let me know what not to touch, okay?"

Dream nodded slowly, disgusted with himself for being so soft. What was it about this boy who made him like this?

"Let's go to a washroom so I can help that arm of yours," George said sweetly, "Take it as a thank you for saving me there."

Dream wanted to protest, but he couldn't form words to tell George no. He grabbed the hand the shorter boy offered him, and at last he was back on his feet.

The two walked back inside in silence. George led the two to the washroom, "Sit down."

Dream complied, "Sure."

George turned on the water in the sink and wet a cloth. He ringed it out so it wouldn't drip all over the place and walked over to Dream.

"Could you move your cloak a bit to the side," George asked, "I don't want to wet it."

Dream used his unharmed arm to pull the cloak to the side, revealing a nasty wound from the rocks that shot at him.

"My goodness," George whispered, "This might sting a bit just with water."

George gently placed the cloth on his arm, carefully working around it to get rid of the dirt.

"Ouch!" Dream jolted, "That hurts!"