hey yall I was at a robotics competition all weekend
it was literally 12+ hours of each day I'm so exhausted :')
TW: mentions of eating disorder/anorexia, mention of hospitals, nausea/throwing up
Previously...
"I-" George cleared his throat hastily, shaking his head and taking a few steps backward. "I need to go. I-I'm sorry."
"Wait, George!" Dream stood up, lunging toward the brunette, but it was too late. George had already run off, locking himself in his room. Dream turned to Wilbur, worry and horror mushing together to form his expression.
"Fuck!"
3rd Person P.O.V.
"Dream."
"Oh god, what do I do? I should go after him, right? Make sure he's okay? Or do I-"
"Dream," Wilbur repeated, louder this time. The blond looked at Wilbur, frowning worriedly. "You need to calm down first." Dream raised his hands defensively, sitting back down at the table.
"Did we do something wrong...?" He mumbled, shaking his head.
"Maybe it was too much. He seemed sort of overwhelmed," Wilbur shrugged. "But I don't know much about eating disorders. Do you?"
"No." Dream shook his head. "I barely even know what it is." Wilbur nodded, gesturing lightly.
"Then that's where we start. We don't do anything more until we actually have an idea of what we're doing," Wilbur reasoned. "George was in the hospital. This is serious. We should actually learn about it before just throwing stuff at him."
"Right." Dream nodded, pressing his lips into a thin line. "Yeah, no. You're right."
"We don't want him to end up back in the hospital," Wilbur mused. "We need to figure this out."
"Should... should I still go check on him?" Dream wondered. Wilbur hesitated before nodding.
"Yeah. Probably." Dream stood up, but Wilbur stopped him. "Be careful, okay? Think before you speak, try to understand what he's feeling." Dream nodded.
"Okay. I will." The blond went down the hall, pausing outside George's door. He took a deep breath, gently knocking at the door.
"George?" He called softly. "Are you in there? I just wanna talk." George didn't respond, but Dream could hear some faint shuffling from inside. "I know you must be feeling... scared. Maybe nervous. But Wilbur and I are trying to help you! We're on your side, you know." Dream paused, hoping for a response. When there wasn't one, he kept talking.
"We care about you. And... seeing you in the hospital... it wasn't great, George. I was scared... I didn't know what was going on with you– with my best friend– and nobody was telling me! And so- uh, well, Wilbur and I... we overheard a conversation. We didn't mean to... honest!" Dream exclaimed, trying to defend his actions. "I- we were just so worried, it could've been anything!" Dream frowned, furrowing his eyebrows. "Still... I'm sorry for eavesdropping. It wasn't very cool of either of us."
From behind the door, George was sitting on his bed, listening to what Dream was saying. He was mad. Proper pissed, in fact. But he supposed he could understand why they did what they did.
Doesn't mean he has to forgive them right away.
He would think about it later. George really wasn't feeling well. He didn't really feel faint... not like he did before, anyway. He felt more sick, more nauseous. Whatever was still in his stomach from the hospital just wasn't sitting well.
As Dream went on and on outside the door, explaining what he and Wilbur had done and apologizing profusely for it, George was doing his best to keep back the bile rising in his throat. It felt like fire, burning flames licking his insides.
God, he hated it. It made him feel so small, so weak... so useless. He couldn't do anything right. He couldn't even diet right, for god's sake!
George laid on his side, curling up into a ball. Yeah, as if that'll help...
"George, please. I'm so sorry. I'm just really worried about you, you're the best thing to ever happen to me and I can't bear to lose you," Dream insisted. "Please, say something. Or open the door. Tell me what's going on. I just want to help."
Dream listened, keeping as still as possible. Eventually, he heard rustling from behind the door, then slow, dragging steps gradually approaching the door. He took a step back, anxiously awaiting George's appearance.
The doorknob made a sound, jostling slightly before starting to turn. Dream watched with anticipation as the door clicked, gently swinging open. There stood George, looking sick and rather pale (even for him).
"George?" Dream questioned, tilting his head with a concerned frown. The brunette opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off by a heave of vomit forcing itself up his throat and down onto the floor. Dream screamed, partially from shock, partially from fear. George coughed up a bit more liquid before falling forward into Dream's arms. He hadn't quite fainted, but his body was so exhausted it was struggling to keep him upright.
George closed his eyes, panting heavily as tears flowed freely from his eyes. He was in so much pain... and now he had gone and made a mess all over the floor.
George let his body fully slump against Dream, allowing the darkness to take him. The last thing he heard was pounding footsteps coming toward him as he fell unconscious.
slightly shorter chapter... heh
