Don't Give Up On Me - Dreamnotfound

7

**Edited

GEORGENOTFOUND'S POV

George stared at the monitor screen, caught off guard. He had suspected that Dream was feeling a little down, probably a little depressed, but downright suicidal? The realization hit him like a ton of bricks, and he bit his lip in worry.

He was brought back to reality by the soft breeze streaming in through an open window. George hurriedly shut off Dream's computer and walked back to the kitchen.

"What took you so long?" Dream asked casually, although his gaze was a little narrow, as though he suspected that George had seen that tab.

"Nothing. Just got a little distracted, nothing much." George sat down, mind preoccupied. Dream pushed the plate to George.

"I've finished my half. I'm going to go back to the office." Before George could answer, Dream wheeled away. George stared after Dream for a few moments, then jumped at the sound of the wind again.

Finish the goddamn lasagna. Then you deal with Dream.

However, with every hesitant bite of the lasagna, the matter grew more and more apparent on his mind, a growing tumor of thought that took up his entire consciousness.

Am I going to lose Dream?

Is this going to be how his story ends?

George finally pushed away the plate, still quarter full, sick to his stomach. He rested his elbows on the table, burying his face in his hands. A few minutes passed like this, breathing in the stale air, running his fingers through his hair.

Finally, he stood up. George hesitated, then put the lasagna back into the refrigerator, and headed towards Dream's room. He froze right in front of the door, listening carefully for any cries of pain or quiet sobs, then, upon hearing none, knocked.

A slight rustling sounded from inside.

George pushed the door open, expecting to see Dream splayed on the bed, dramatically holding a knife, blood pouring from his wrists.

But Dream was sitting in his wheelchair, innocently watching George.

"Hi?" Dream finally spoke, breaking the tension. "What's up?"

George shook himself. "Yeah, do you wanna play Minecraft or something?" He blurted, inventing something wildly.

Dream smiled, although George couldn't shake the suspicion that it wasn't a genuine smile.

"Sure," Dream responded, turning back to his computer. George pulled out his laptop and sat down next to Dream.

"Are you feeling up for a stream?" George prompted, crossing his fingers behind his back.

Dream frowned. "Nah. Not today." George held back a sigh.

"What do you want to do? Record?" George pushed on.

Dream shrugged. "No, just you and me. I don't feel like doing any work or anything."

George smiled inwardly, oddly pleased. "Alright."

The two opened up their recording server and messed around, eventually beginning a manhunt by accident.

Fine, not by accident. Dream had requested it, and George couldn't turn it down. Especially if it meant that Dream would feel happy.

"Oh Dreammmmm!" George smirked. Dream leaned over to see George's screen.

"What! No!" Dream exclaimed. George had put obsidian in the middle of Dream's unfinished portal and poured water all over the surrounding lava.

George jumped slightly, hyper-aware of Dream's breath on his shoulder. He twitched and shifted in his seat, cheeks starting to burn.

"Haha!" George squeaked weakly. Dream didn't seem to notice. Instead, he was focused on the monitor screen. Dream's player was sprinting towards George, a diamond axe in hand.

"Wait, what? When did you get that?" George screamed, sprinting away from the lava pool.

"Oh GEORGEEEEEE!" Dream laughed with the air of a psychotic murderer. Dream didn't chase George, and instead, went to work on the portal.

George paused, with Dream just barely within view, and thought. Dream was silent beside him. Finally, a half formulated plan in mind, he noted his coordinates and backed away, to get resources. After a few minutes of silence, George looked up, surprised at Dream's lack of words. Then, he was even more surprised that Dream was steadily watching him, with an unreadable expression.

"Oh. Uh..." Dream looked away. "Sorry." He mumbled.

George opened his mouth to say something, but shut it again, returning back to his plan. He crept up behind Dream, hiding behind a tree and spying from afar. Dream was building something around the portal, and from his angle, George couldn't tell what. He crouched, sneaking forwards, holding his breath. Then he sprang out of his hiding spot, placing another obsidian block in the middle of the portal, subsequently catching Dream with a nice crit, the immediately ran away.

But Dream didn't react. George looked to his right, and immediately understood why. Dream was laying on the table with his arms folded, head resting on his folded arms, sleeping peacefully. George raised his eyebrows, surprised that Dream had managed to fall asleep, and he himself didn't notice. George smiled to himself, and moved to carry him into bed. Except there was something on his lap that George could've sworn wasn't there before. An innocent rope, strong, but not so tough you couldn't bend it easily. George froze for a moment, possibilities flying through his mind. Then he picked up the rope in one hand, tucking it under his arm, and carried Dream back into bed.

George paused for a second, debating what he should do next. Finally, he sat himself down on the couch in the living room, then began to inspect the rope.

He fingered it. It was slightly rough, a light, dusty brown. The strands were cleverly weaved together into one thicker rope, and was around four feet long. It took him a moment to realize what it was for. But when it dawned on him, George almost rolled off the couch.

He was going to hang himself.

A/N: Relatively short part today because I haven't been writing lately! Sorry :(