Shoulder to Lean On

United at Last

George took all of this in within a few seconds of walking in the door. He immediately spotted a figure, curled up on the floor. His yellow (probably green) hoodie was pulled over his head and his arms were wrapped around himself. George took a few steps over.

"Clay?" he asked softly, not wanting to startle him.

There was a moment of silence, and then the figure shifted, turning to look up at George with hazy and tear-filled eyes.

"George?"

##

"George?" Clay answered. George stood, slack-jawed, taking in Clay's face for the first time. He knew what Clay looked like from a verbal description. George knew that his eyes were green (although all he could see was a weird golden-yellowy color), and he knew that his hair was a dark dirty-blonde, almost brown (bits of hair were hanging around his face in wisps). No one had told him that Dream had freckles. They were light but clearly visible, dotting his cheeks and his nose.

After he got over his initial shock of seeing Clay's face for the first time, George doubled-back to re-assess. Clay looked terrible. There were dark circles under his eyes, and George could see the tear tracks streaked across his cheeks. Clay also just looked thin. George did not expect Clay to be all huge and buff and covered with muscles like some of the fanart portrayed him as. Clay said it himself, he played Minecraft all day so why would he have abs? Still, even though he was 6'3'' he looked so small curled up on the floor like that.

"George?" Clay asked again. George noted that his voice sounded terribly hoarse, like he'd been screaming or something. George dropped down onto his knees.

"Hey there Dream. What are you doing on the floor?"

"Fell," Dream responded. "Too dizzy. No food. Couldn't get my phone." Each word sounded painful.

George looked down to where Clay's phone was clutched in his hand. He gently tugged it out of his grip. Dead. He looked back down to Clay, who was slowly trying to shift himself into a sitting position. George grabbed his shoulder and arm to stabilize him. "Hey, I don't know exactly what's going on but let's get you into bed, okay?"

He helped Dream get to his feet and lead him over to the bed, which was a mere few feet away. He gently helped to lower Clay into it. He closed his eyes and was clutching his stomach. George was concerned. "Hey Dream? Clay? Can you tell me how you feel?"

There was a pause. Clay didn't open his eyes or attempt to move, but eventually he spoke. "Dizzy. Nauseous. Hungry. Thirsty." George nodded. It sounded like Clay had gotten sick somehow. Clay had gotten sick several times in the years George had known him, but it had never gotten to the point where he couldn't walk. Then again, there was a first time for everything. George pressed his palm against Dream's forehead, which was sweaty even though the man was shivering.

Clay sighed happily. "I'm happy you're here George," he murmured. "I'm gonna miss you when I wake up."

George smiled slightly. Clearly, his friend was not entirely in his right mind. "Well why don't keep dreaming, Dream." He giggled a bit. "And we can see what happens when you wake up." It felt so weird to tease Dream without hearing that tea kettle wheeze and jabs thrown right back at him. Dream didn't respond, having fallen asleep again.

George took a second to get another good look at his friend's face. He was here. He had met Dream. He had seen his face. He was in his house. Dream was okay! He was just really sick, most likely with the flu or something from his symptoms. He must have passed out on Teamspeak with George and was too weak to get up again. Poor Dream. That must have been awful.