Happier and Prettier - a DNF story

1.8

George felt cold. No - freezing.

His whole body was weak, flashing lights moving past him so quickly that he felt dizzy. All of them were painfully bright - white and burning into his closed eyelids in a way that made him want to cry. Voices yelled all around him, the sound of machines being hooked up and his body being moved to accommodate all kinds of wiring. He could feel everything happening, yet he couldn't find the strength to move.

Even when he heard his best friends panicked voice reverberate through his head, he couldn't find it in him to answer.

Dream!

He wanted to say.

Dream, I'm okay!

Yet nothing came out of his mouth.

And now he lay on his hospital bed, knocked out from exhaustion with only the beeping of his heartrate monitor to keep him sane in his own head. At least he knew he was alive, but it was in a strange way. It was terrifying, even.

Him. The hospital bed. His monitor.

No Dream.

He would hear nurses come in and out of the room at certain intervals, taking turns in checking up on him and injecting him with a new dose of vitamins before turning to walk back out of the door. Of course, each of them would write new information on the clip-board hanging on the end of his bed, and it was almost infuriating to hear them scribbling scrawny letters onto paper.

"Just say I'm fine and let me go! At the very least, let me have visitors!"

He would murmur in a weak voice, yet none of them ever managed to hear him. Maybe he wasn't actually saying anything at all and just thought he was, but he didn't want to think of it in that way. It would only scare him more.

He took in and let out shaky breaths repeatedly, on the verge of giving up when he heard the door open once again.

And this time, it wasn't a nurse.

"Georgie?" A familiar voice called out, the same stupid nickname that Dream would always call him when he felt vulnerable. It almost broke the brunettes heart at how hurt the boy sounded already.

A scuffle of shoes across the floor echoed in the still room, making George's heart race so fast, yet he still didn't have the power to sit up and acknowledge his best friend. He couldn't even bring himself to open his eyes and say hello, it almost felt like a coma.

"They said you aren't okay, George..." The blonde mumbled, taking a seat beside the bed-ridden boy, so close that the brunette could feel the heat radiating off his body. It was welcomed, of course, but George could only wish to have the ability to hug his best friend at this point.

"They said you have pneumonia. Crazy how such a small problem turned into something so terrible, huh? Your spring fever, I mean." Dream clarified, a tone of unforgettable regret evident in his voice. "Though I guess it could apply to the situation between us... I just had to go and believe that random jackass, huh?"

George wanted to giggle at that, let the blonde know that all was forgiven, yet he knew he couldn't. All he could do was listen to the small sobs of the boy he loved beside him, wallowing in guilt that George couldn't even begin to fathom what Dream must be thinking.

"I'm so sorry, Georgie... I know it's such a late apology, but I needed to say it at some point. Better late than never, right?"

"Right!"

"I guess that doesn't really apply to this situation."

"It does! Don't worry Dream, I'm fine!"

Of course, George's responses went unheard by Dream, and George just wanted to scream.

However, he was relieved when he finally managed to move his body - his head lulled to the side, falling to face in the direction that his best friend sat. He was happy to hear a small gasp, followed by a soft hand on his head, petting his hair. He just wished Dream had pulled him into a hug instead, but he assumed the wires attached to him would have gotten in the way.

"You can hear me, can't you?"

George's hand twitched slightly, indicating a yes, and Dream was able to catch sight of the gesture.

He heard the blonde shuffle his position, sitting closer to the brunette so his arm didn't ache to rest by his head. "Oh god - that means you heard me crying just now then, huh?" Dream joked, embarrassment evident in the way his voice trailed off at the end of his sentence.

"Yeah, I did. You're such a pissbaby," 

"I can almost hear you rolling your eyes at me," Dream shook his head with a fond chuckle.

The two sat in silence for the next hour, Dream making sure he never parted his hand from George's head for even a second. He would sometimes talk about what they could do after George has enough energy - things like visiting a hidden garden near their dormitory, look for apartments to rent out, visit an old library that Dream had found out about just a few hours ago (he had spent a lot of time procrastinating until the doctors finally let him visit George).

George liked every idea that Dream had and wanted to cry at the fact that their friendship really hadn't changed one bit, even after the fallout and when George had confessed his feelings (although the brunette is sure that Dream was clueless to what he meant that night).

Unfortunately, all good things must come to an end, that's just how life works.

A nurse creaked open the door, face blank as they walked over to the end of George's hospital bed.

"Visiting hours are over - please start to head out." They informed, making Dream frown.

George felt his hair being ruffled one last time, another hand brushing over his own as he heard his best friend stand up. "I'm sorry, George - I have to go. I'll be back soon, though!" He spoke softly, making the brunettes heart flutter ever so lightly. The blonde sounded like he was trying really hard to be forgiven - the elder still wanted to reassure him that he was.

Maybe one day soon, when he finally woke up, he would be able to do that.

After telling him off for putting him through so much shit, of course.