Don't Give Up On Me - Dreamnotfound

8

**Edited

GEORGENOTFOUND'S POV

Dream was sick again. This time, a cough, and fever made him shiver violently at moments, or burn up in seconds. He'd already thrown up twice. Again, another trip to the hospital, this time, alone. George sat behind the wheel, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel, waiting. Behind him, Dream groaned. George reached his hands behind him and felt Dream's forehead.

Burning. Again.

"You should've just left me to die or whatever." Dream croaked out.

George flinched, shocked. "Why would I? Come on, drink some water." George shoved Dream's water bottle in his face and refused to take it back until Dream sipped some.

A green light came on. George left the water bottle with Dream and continued driving. Down the street. Right turn at the store with bright flashing lights. Left turn at the old, rundown garage.

Dream was panting heavily in the back seat. At another red light, George turned around and force-fed Dream some more water. That quieted down the blonde a little, but by the time they arrived at the hospital, he was panting again. George wheeled Dream back into the hospital, and quickly got him into a room, while George himself was ushered out. The dark-haired boy paced, cracking his knuckles in anticipation and anxiety, biting his cheek, then finally, staring at a wall. After what felt like an hour, Dream finally emerged, looking battered but relatively conscious and better. George rushed over, but the doctor intercepted him.

"Give him a moment." She said, glancing at Dream. She pulled George aside. "I'm afraid we have bad news for you."

George swallowed. "Yeah?" He prompted, trying to brace himself for the news.

"Your friend only has a couple of months left to live. His organs aren't working 100%, and it's not that safe to give him an organ transplant in his current state."

George's heart sank. "Is there nothing you can do?" He pleaded desperately. The doctor shook her head sadly.

"Six months, I'd say. Take him out to travel or something. Don't let him spend the last few months alone. Keep him happy. That's the best I have for you."

George looked down at the floor. Was he expecting this? Partly. Something about Dream's condition hinted at it. The way he sometimes struggled to breathe. The way he would sometimes get a glazed look in his eyes. The way he would sometimes clutch at his chest as though he was in pain.

"Alright." George finally whispered. The doctor patted him on the back sympathetically and stepped aside. George took a deep breath and put on a smile for Dream.

"Let's go back home. You're probably not up for recording a video tonight, but there's got to be something fun we can do."

Dream cast a shrewd eye over George. "Funny." He finally responded.

"I- Come on, let's go." George pushed Dream out, waving cheerfully at the doctors, although inside, his stomach was a pit of darkness and pain.

-

"I won!" George shouted gleefully, placing down his last card. They were playing Uno. Yes, George was that desperate. Once George wheeled Dream inside, he couldn't make Dream go anywhere but to the living room. So that's where they were, sitting there, 1 AM, playing Uno.

"Dammit!" Dream slammed his cards down. "So close!"

George smiled. Dream seemed more responsive now. Maybe exercising his brain was the way to go.

"Down for some Minecraft?" George pressed his luck. Dream glanced behind George.

"Nah, it's past midnight. We should really get to bed now." George glanced around.

"Alright." George stood up, brushing off his pants, and popping his neck. He laid his hands on Dream's wheelchair, prepared to push him down the hallway, but Dream grabbed George's wrists, surprisingly strong.

"No. I want to do this myself."

George opened his mouth to argue, but Dream cut him off.

"Just this once."

After a pause, George stepped back and watched as Dream pushed himself, struggling slightly at the bumps of the carpet, but managed to make it to his bedroom. Shaking himself, George followed and entered Dream's bedroom behind him.

But Dream had already rolled into bed. George raised his eyebrows, impressed. "You did it yourself!" He grinned approvingly.

"Yes, I did." Dream chuckled slightly, more emotion than he'd shown for the past few days. "I managed to get myself into bed. Improvement. It's an improvement."

George smiled in response, and left, heading to bed.

Maybe it wasn't going to be that bad after all.