𝕎𝕚𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕣 𝕎𝕚𝕥𝕙 𝕄𝕖 - Ⓓ Ⓝ Ⓕ

~38~

It was after a whole day of George throwing up blood and bile that they realised that something was wrong.

Not with George specifically – well, yes, George was obviously sick from the toxins in his system – but the real problem was something that they all knew was going to happen eventually, although they all tried to ignore it. But ignoring the problem won't help it be solved or go away.

The house was flooding.

Dream and Sapnap tried to do whatever they could to stop the water from seeping in from under the front door, boarding up the gaps with spare wood and fabrics, although it didn't hold nor help for long. They tried and tried, and tried some more, but they didn't realise until Karl slipped and hit his head that this was a lot more serious than they originally inferred and that there was no stopping it. Their house was beginning to drown.

They had all been scrambling about downstairs, piling some movable furniture on top of the table and marble bench in some hope that it would all be salvageable. George was stacking oak  dining room chairs on top of one another, pale with dark hoops under his eyes from his lack-of recovery, but he knew, as well as the rest of them, that they need his help in this time of need, and George was more than willing to comply.

There would be times when he would feel as if he wasn't able to get enough oxygen into his lungs, and none of the others blamed him when he had to take a moment to rest. Jesus, he was in the surgery room less than six days ago, and was nowhere near recovered enough to be moving around as much as he was.

Karl and Sapnap were taking care of the heavier furniture, and usually Dream would be jumping in to help, but the wound on his arm was bothering him and causing him to wince every now and then, and they all silently agreed that despite being the second strongest out of all of them, he should stick to the lighter objects. Sapnap had enough upper strength and stamina to pick up Dream's load in his power absence, and they were all grateful that the youngest of the friends was practically obsessed with fitness and sports.

George was just finishing stacking up the chairs with Dream when they heard a loud screech as someones barefoot slipped across the wet tile, and heard a startled shout and a loud thud as something crashed to the floor. George looked over to where Sapnap and Karl was in a panic, worried for what the loud sound was, and quickly placed the chair that he was carrying down when he realised what had happened.

Karl and Sapnap had been lifting and moving the couch, hoping to place it somewhere high off the ground when Karl slipped on the flooding tiles, falling backwards. His end of the couch dropped with him and landed on the brunette's knee, and George hoped to God that his ears were just playing tricks on him when he heard something snap.

George and Dream quickly rushed over to their fallen friend, and Dream instantly picked up the end of the couch with a puff of air leaving his lips, lifting it off Karl with Sapnap while the youngest brunette muttered panicked curses under his breath, his eyes blown wide.

The oldest of the four kneeled beside Karl, his hand gripping his friend's shoulder as he examined his physical state. He pressed a cool hand to the American's cheek and slapped it lightly, and felt his anxiety bubble in his stomach when he received no response, the other knocked out.

George slightly panicked, hoping that the snapping sound wasn't Karl's skull cracking open as his head rebounded off the floor, but he quickly skimmed his hands across the other's head and breathed out when his hands came back clean with no sign of blood. Hopefully – hopefully – Karl was just having another of his episodes, which they still needed to talk about. He bit his lip stressfully as he realised that the other probably won't remember anything that had happened in the past hour, but at least there won't be any brain damage. At least, brain damage that they knew of.