bakery boy // dnf

chapter nineteen : are you crazy?

tw/ this chapter may be triggering and kind of gross.

A whimper. He heard a whimper-like noise. Perhaps a groan or whine? He froze in place and his face turned pale. At first, he thought perhaps a bars bedrooms were full so a couple brought their business out here. But it didn't sound like pleasurable whines, they sounded pain filled. His next guess is that it was an animal in pain.

Whatever it was, Dream wanted to help. He made his way closer to the sound—however it was late at night and to dark to make anything out. He dug around in his pocket and found a cheap, clip on flashlight that you're supposed to clip to your waist band.

He clicked the light on and saw a cloth covering something, god, was he about to discover a dead body? Given he didn't wanna touch it, he spoke to it. "Hello?"

He heard mumbles, and then wet gargling sounds. Dreams face scrunched at the horrendous sound.

"A-are you okay?" Dream asked.

Another gargle.

Quickly, Dream set down his flashlight and then pulled of the large cloth sheet. He grabbed his flashlight once more and clicked it on.

What he saw honestly made him want to vomit,

but he was also happy beyond words.

"George!" Dream cried out as Georges bloodshot eyes met Dreams.

Dream cupped his hands onto Georges cheeks, then did that thing that mothers do where they place their hands all over their child's face. Georges breathing was heavy and uneven, and he was covered in blood, cuts, vomit and other disgusting filths. His once soft hair was now coated in blood and other bodily fluids, making his hair clump together. George looked frail and like he hadn't eaten in years. There were streaks from tears pouring down his cheeks and he had massive eye bags beneath his pretty brown eyes.

"D-dre—" George was cut off by blood filled vomit erupting from his throat.

Given Dream didn't have his phone, he'd have to carry George home. "George I'm going to carry you back to my house okay?" Dream told the boy and picked George up bridal style as George nodded.

George had vomited a couple times on the walk home, but whenever he did he made sure to tilt to a different side so he wouldn't vomit on Dream.

After arriving home, Dream set George on the bathroom countertop.

He quickly ran to plug the bathtub drain and filled it with warm water.

"Okay, George. Im going to undress you so you can bathe, is that okay?" Dream made sure to sound as kind as possible given he didn't know what trauma that man had given George. George reluctantly nodded, fairly answering Dreams question on if Jacob had given him any sort of traumas like that.

After undressing the shaking boy, he hurriedly placed him in the warm water. He watched as the once clear water turned a gross brownish red.

"George, can you talk without vomiting?" Dream asked as he grabbed soap from the closet.

"I thi—" George leaned out over the bathtub and threw up in a nearby trash bin.

"Okay uhm, just don't talk okay?" Dream sat a washcloth and some soap on the edge of the bathtub. "I will be back." Dream left the room.

George carefully moved his frail body and lightly washed the dirt and filth off of himself. Some time later, Dream came back with clothes, bandages, and a towel.

"Okay so," his voice trailed off for a moment. "Let's get you out, get your cuts and stuff clean, and then get you dressed."

George nodded.