Angels (DreamNotFound/Gream)

Chapter 21: The Hospital Days

THE HOSPITAL DAYS

Heat rushed up into George's cheeks as he jerked away from Dream immediately, intense embarrassment flooding over him. Dream's family was looking at them uncomfortably from the doorway, looking like they all very much wished they had chosen to walk in later.

George stood up, managing a shameful smile, all the while wishing he could sink into the ground and stay there forever. He chanced a glance at Dream and saw the other boy looked about the same way.

"Hi," Dream muttered, face bright red. His uninjured left hand fidgeted with a stray string on his arm bandage.

Mrs. Johnson raised her eyebrows, but thankfully didn't say anything about what she had just walked into. "We were just coming because visiting hours are over in five minutes. They said you have to stay for at least a couple more days."

Dream groaned, sinking back into the bed. "Just great," he said sarcastically.

"Be thankful it's not longer," said Mr. Johnson, looking down at his son through his glasses. His voice was stern, but his lined eyes were laced with worry. "You've broken five bones, and you have a major concussion."

Dream swallowed, his eyes flitting down towards the casts and bandages covering the majority of his body. "Yeah, I guess."

"We'll call you when we get back," said Hunter, looking earnestly at his older brother.

Dream managed a small smile at him, then his eyes widened as a worry suddenly flew into his head. "Is my phone broken?"

"Somehow not," his mom said, and he exhaled a relieved sigh. A wry smile played at the corners of her lips as she rummaged in her black purse, pulling his phone out and handing it to him.

"Thanks," said Dream, placing it on the bedside table. "Guess I broke its fall," he added, a sarcastic undertone to his voice.

Mrs. Johnson's lined features visibly tautened at the joke but she only shrugged at her son, eyes saddened. "Guess so."

********

A slight whir of sound filled the room as Dream's ceiling fan rotated rapidly, whirling a gentle wave of cool air around the space. George stared up into the darkness at the fuzzy shape of the fan, mind circling with a sea of thoughts as he laid alone on Dream's bed.

Dream loves me, his brain repeated over and over. The thought echoed through his mind, filling his body with waves of giddiness and joy.

It was difficult to comprehend. Dream, the most perfect, angel-like human he had ever met, loved him. He grinned dizzily into the blackness as the memory of Dream telling him how much he loved him floated through his head, wondering how he'd gotten so lucky, and a warm blush crept its way onto his cheeks as he remembered the startling intensity in Dream's sea green eyes before he had kissed him...

But the smile abruptly slid off his face as the other memories of that day suddenly replaced it. His eyes squeezed shut as he determinedly tried to not think about the two horrific minutes where he thought Dream was gone forever. After a prolonged moment of internal struggle, he somehow managed to wrench that thought out of his head, but the memory of Amanda's betrayal instantly replaced it.

He meshed his lips together as a sudden rush of bubbling anger at himself welled up in his head - he had kissed her. How could he have been so stupid? He had let himself believe her, a girl he had known for only a fleeting couple days, instead of Dream, his best friend, his boyfriend, who he had been friends with for over four years. He had convinced himself he liked her, blanketed his conviction that she was telling the truth over the twinge of doubt perpetually residing in the back of his mind. Because his conscience knew Dream would never betray him, and he desperately wished he would have trusted his own conscience over the bubbly blonde haired girl with a knack for baking and an obsession with flowers.

********

Dream gradually grew better and better over the next few days he spent in the hospital. George spent the entirety of visiting hours sitting at his side, which Dream highly appreciated, as the hospital was extremely boring. They spent hours on end mindlessly talking about anything at all, laughing their heads off and enjoying each other's company more than they ever had before now that they had learned what it was like without the other. Dream's family would pop in for a few hours, but his parents and Flora had work and Hope and Hunter had school, so their time at the hospital was limited.

Three days in, they were informed that Dream would only have to stay two more days, a fact in which Dream was ecstatic about. George let out a cheer and immediately wished he hadn't; the doctor gave him a strange look and he immediately blushed and looked away, causing Dream to start wheezing uncontrollably until George, still quite hot in the face, threw his sandwich meat at him.

Four days in, George was sitting cross legged in his usual spot on Dream's bed and Dream sat across from him, leaning back on his uninjured left arm; he had thankfully healed enough to sit up without pain. They were deeply engaged in a passionate argument about whether or not wearing socks to bed was an offense. Dream's eyes were glittering with the intensity they only had when he was in the middle of a debate, and he was stubbornly repeating his case over and over again: wearing socks to bed should be a punishable violation.

George knew he could never dream to win a debate against the bronze haired boy, who had been the leading member of the debate team in high school, but pressed on anyway with his strong belief that wearing socks to bed was perfectly okay. He ran a hand through his hair as he racked his mind for other arguments to his case, only half listening through his concentration to Dream's long and expressive speech stating that wearing socks to bed was unhygienic.

Suddenly, a tentative knock sounded from the door, and they both started.

"Come in!" called Dream, and George exhaled a sigh of relief because hopefully that meant they didn't have to finish their debate, and he was losing badly.

There was silence for a prolonged moment, then the door opened slowly, heavy wood creaking, to reveal a girl who considerably resembled a deer in headlights. Disheveled blonde waves cascaded down her chest, and she donned sweatpants, the dull grey contrasting sharply with her usual bright outfit. She gave them a hesitant smile that didn't reach her eyes, and moved only slightly into the room.

Dream's eyes widened slightly, and his face tautened immediately after as he stared at the girl as if he'd never seen her before. His words came as if they required extreme effort, short and clipped. "Amanda, what the hell are you doing here?"

_____

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