Don't Give Up On Me - Dreamnotfound

1

**Edited

DREAM'S POV

"Dang it!" Dream slammed the table, sending his mouse flying. He buried his face in his hands, frustrated. "I was so close to getting away! If I'd have had just one more heart, I could've gotten away!"

"Ha!" George giggled on the line, doing a mini victory dance over where Dream died. "I WON!"

Dream slammed the table again. "No!"

That day's video was a small challenge — manhunt, but with a twist. Whoever lost had to put on the strawberry dress — and Dream lost.

"I have to buy that goddamn strawberry dress! Where do I even buy that?" Dream shook his head, sighing into the microphone.

"You gotta buy the dress! Ha!" George burst out laughing, and Dream couldn't help a smile from creeping up on his face, listening to his best friend giggle to his heart's content.

"I have to take a picture of it?" Dream pleaded.

"Yes! We already agreed on this, Dream!" George answered, still laughing.

Dream facepalmed. "What, do I have to go to Walmart or something? Buy the strawberry dress? What does it even look like?"

"Here, it's in Discord." Dream turned his head to his second monitor and pulled up Discord, glancing in disgust at the picture that George sent him. The dress was a long one, that cinched at the waist, with light pink ruffles at the end, and of course, small stitchings of strawberries covered on it.

"That is so disgusting." Dream breathed out. "I have to buy that?"

"Yes, Dream." George spoke with mock patience.

"Okay, okay, I'm going to head to Walmart to buy it then." Dream facepalmed again, the most frustrated he ever was at losing a manhunt. "Just think, every decision we've ever made in our lives has led me to going to Walmart and buying a goddamn strawberry dress." George giggled again. Dream stood up, stretching.

"I'll see you later." Dream spoke into the microphone, and hung up.

"Oh my god." Dream rubbed his face, agitated. He grabbed his keys where they were sitting on his desk, his wallet, and pulled on a coat, stepping outside into the fresh evening air. The sun was slowly crawling down the sky, a light breeze ruffling his dirty-blonde hair. He took a deep breath, feeling the cool air enter his lungs. After a moment, he climbed into his car, starting the engine and backing out of the driveway. Dream tapped the steering wheel absentmindedly, thinking of the editing and the music he wanted to use for this video. The recording session had been a long one, so he'd have a lot to cut down. He shifted in his seat, waiting impatiently for the light to turn green again. After a few moments, the light turned green, and Dream pushed the gas pedal, heading onto the highway. The nearest Walmart was actually a little far, and Dream tapped his free foot in time with the rhythm of the song. He lifted his hand off the steering wheel to adjust his hoodie, and that was when the truck pulled into view.

It seemed to happen in slow motion. The truck had run a red light, and was barreling towards Dream. The blonde haired boy had his hands off the wheel, and he couldn't swerve to avoid the hit. Dream struggled to reach the brake, but it was over before that. The last thing he saw before blacking out was the large logo on the side of the truck.

GEORGENOTFOUND'S POV

It'd already been around an hour and a half. Dream had said that his nearest Walmart was a little far, but he didn't expect Dream to take this long. George shifted in his seat, tapping his fingers on the desk uncertainly. Suddenly, he got a call on his phone from an unknown number that seemed to be out of the country. George frowned, and answered the call.

"Hello? Is this, George Davidson?" An unfamiliar voice came from the end of the line.

"Yeah...?"

"Are you Clay's friend?" The voice went on.

George frowned. Nobody he knew called Dream Clay, so who was this? "Yeah..." He answered again.

"Clay has been hit by a truck, and we've been told to contact his parents, which we have done, and you were the next person to contact. Clay's currently in the hospital, in critical condition. The address of the hospital will be given to you. That's all we know, I'm sorry."

George's stomach dropped to the floor. So that's what Dream was doing. He was in the hospital, in.. what had the man said... critical condition? George gulped.

"Yes, of course." He replied hurriedly.

"Oh... Okay.?" The man's voice was sympathetic. George's throat was tight, and his stomach was twisted in knots.

"Thank you. "He choked out. He quickly ended the call. George sat at his desk, helplessly staring at the opposite wall, thoughts chasing each other in his mind.

George didn't even realize he was crying until he felt the tears splash onto his hands, which were curled into fists. He wiped them away with his sleeves, and immediately searched up a flight from London to Orlando. The tears slowly trailed down his face and soaked into his hoodie, and George kept wiping them away angrily, and after a few minutes, booked a ticket for a plane that left in three hours. He immediately started throwing things into his backpack, and after he finished haphazardly packing, he sat down on his bed, in a mess. He had made Dream go buy the strawberry dress, which caused him to get into the accident.

"It's my fault." He growled to himself.

George balled his hands into fists, and bit his lip, trying desperately to keep his thoughts away from more dire situations. Suddenly, he looked up. There was an hour left. It was an international flight, so he really had to go. He snatched up his backpack and headed outside, not even noticing the last rays of the setting sun that was streaking the sky in a beautiful shade of red and pink. George climbed into his car and backed out onto the street, driving to the airport, and being extra careful.

"Can't get in an accident as well." He chuckled to himself, but immediately felt bad for laughing. He shut himself up for the rest of the ride, speaking shortly only to the security and the people at the boarding desk. George made it to the airport and to his boarding area in good time, and sat down, too angry at himself to focus on anything. He stared at the floor, unmoving, grinding his teeth in anticipation, until his flight was called. George lined up, tapping his foot without realizing it. Once he made it onto the flight, he curled up in his window seat, and simply stared outside, lost in thought.

After a few hours passed of George sitting in the plane, a flight attendant came around, offering a meal, since it was probably some mealtime in America. George opened his mouth to put his order, then decided against it.

You don't deserve it. Dream is paralyzed in the hospital. You don't deserve it.

George shook his head, waving the flight attendant away. The flight attendant didn't give him another glance before going to serve the next person. He rested his head against the cool glass of the window and stared at the darkening sky.