Work Text:
And Baby makes . . . Four
George watches as the tea in his cup, set on his tummy, ripples with movement of Baby’s kicks like a scene out of Jurassic Park. Said tea has gone tepid, and George has lost interest in actually drinking it, but the strength of Baby’s kicks are fascinating him. Well, it’s more fascinating than the call that Dream has been on for-actual-ever with Bad, Quackity, and Sapnap--who George knows for a fact is just up in his room and could be downstairs with Dream and George and offering to make George a snack.
Dream has them on speaker, on his phone, and their all discussing video ideas, but that topic seems to have run its course for the moment as Quackity chatters on about his classes and George swears that if they start talking about the weather he’s going to actually get up from this couch and make his own snack. Possibly.
After another five minutes, Baby seems to have gone to sleep and the dinosaur kicks have ceased for the moment, so George reaches down, with great effort (everything he does is with great effort at this point in his pregnancy) and sets his tea cup down on the table. Stretching out, he manages to get his feet (are they puffy? They look puffy to Geroge) up on the sofa and puts his head in Dream’s lap.
Dream cards his long fingers through George’s curls as he makes appropriate “listening noises” while Quackity talks. George starts to doze.
“Oh, Dream,” Bad says over the speaker on Dream’s phone. “Congrats on the Tom Higgenson follow.”
George opens his eyes. The carding stops.
“It’s-it’s not a big deal,” Dream says, quietly.
“Not a big deal? Plain White T’s is one of your favorite throwback bands, silly. From what Sapnap said, it has to be about that ‘Youtubers Sing with Their Idols’ compilation that Mr. Beast is pulling together. Has he DM’d you?” Bad asks.
Dream makes a little noise in the back of his throat and then finally answers with a simple, “Yes.”
Quackity’s voice comes in loud over Discord. “That’s pog champ, Dream. Literally epic. The only question is ‘Hey There Delilah’ or ‘Lonely September’, which is to say there’s no question at all because it’s gotta be ‘Lonely September’, am I right?”
Dream hums.
“I’d vote Delilah, but you can’t lose. That’s so exciting. Isn’t it, George?” Bad asks.
“Yes. In fact, in all this excitement Dream seems to have forgotten to even mention it to little old me,” George says, in an exaggerated British voice.
There’s silence on the call. Sapnap is especially, suspiciously, silent. Which stinks of complicity to George.
George turns his head to look up at Dream. Dream looks down at George.
“Oh, look at time. Have to go.” The chime sounds as Quackity leaves Discord.
“I’m sure everything is fine, George. You muffins can talk about it now,” Bad says.
“Yeah. Thanks, Bad,” Dream says, with a more than a touch of sarcasm. Dream hangs up the phone.
Dream opens his mouth to speak, but then Sapnap comes thundering down the stairs. “I did not tell Bad, I swear.”
George sits up, with the help of Dreams hand against his back. “Why didn’t anyone tell me?” George asks.
“Look. I started getting messages about it yesterday while you were napping. It’s not a big deal because I’m not doing it,” Dream says.
“What?” Sapnap says, coming around the front of the couch. “You have to.”
George looks back and forth between them as they talk, like a verbal tennis match.
“It’s in Chicago,” Dream says.
“You can fly to Chicago,” Sapnap says.
“You know I hate flying,” Dream says.
“Then you can drive there,” Sapnap says.
Dream blows out a breath, then reaches for George’s hand. Dream fiddles with George’s fingers, until it gets George to look at him. “They want to do it soon. Like the end of this week.”
George shrugs. “Well, the sooner the better, I’m like a ticking timebomb here,” he says, rubbing his belly. Dreams gaze drops and he frowns, his brow tightening with worry and George realizes the problem. “You can go, Dream. Baby and I are fine.”
“I’m not leaving you alone in your last trimester,” Dream says.
“That’s dumb. Besides, Sapnap will keep us company. As long as you fill the freezer with coffee ice cream. Oh! And that peanut butter crunch one that Sapnap likes,” George tells him.
Dream’s eyes move to Sapnap. “Sapnap’s not going to be here. He and Quackity are meeting up with Karl on Thursday. You’d be alone.”
George opens his mouth to argue that, regardless, he actually is a grown man and can take care of himself when Sapnap speaks. “Actually, the trip has been canceled.”
“Canceled?” Dream asks, narrowing his eyes. “Since when? Why?”
“Karl messaged me this morning. He’s sick. He has . . . Mono. He needs to, you know, sleep and stuff,” Sapnap says.
“Mono? He was tested for Mono?” Dream asks, as George starts to think about that peanut butter crunch ice cream and wondering which one of them would be easier to talk into getting him a dish. Sapnap is already standing. Then he could get Dream to rub his feet.
“ . . . shared a drink with Jimmy,” George hears Sapnap say. But he doesn’t care really. He could check on Karl later.
“So, see Dream? You can go to Chicago. Sapnap can take care of me. Easy. Now, Sapnap, while you’re up can you be a sweetheart and get me a large bowl of peanut butter crunch?” George turns back to Dream and pouts. “My feet are achy and cold.” Sapnap growls behind him and but Dream just smiles like the angel he is and pats his lap.
“For the record, I’m not rubbing anyone’s feel while Dream is gone,” Sapnap says. But he does head off to the kitchen, hopefully to scoop ice cream.
The third day that Dream is gone George falls. It’s not a bad fall, more of a wee tumble. it’s just that his stupid feet have been a little swollen and he’s been tripping on them. He ends up on the kitchen floor with Sapnap freaking out above him.
“I’m fine,” George yells over Sapnap’s hysterics. “I didn’t hit my belly, just my knees and my shoulder.” He rolls out his shoulder with a wince, but not nothing seems to be broken. George maneuvers himself from his side onto his back, and then back onto his side, and then gets up onto his knees. He winces at the bruises that must be forming there.
“A little help here?” George asks, sheepishly, realizing he’s stuck.
“I’m calling Dream,” Sapnap says, lifting George from under his armpits.
“Do not call Dream,” George says, sternly. “I’ll elevate my feet, drink more water, ice my shoulder and you can order me dinner. Easy.”
Sapnap glares at him. “I’m not waiting on you.”
“Of course not! We both know you going to order food anyway to eat while we watch the basketballs.”
“It’s Basketball. Not ‘the basketballs’.”
“That’s what I said.”
Dream calls him that night, as he has every night. He asks about George, and the baby, before telling George about the recording session and how nice everyone is. “They better be nice,” George says, trying to sound fierce through a yawn.
“Go ahead and sleep, baby,” Dream tells him, stifling a yawn himself.
“Stay on call with me. Sing me part of the song,” George demands gently. “Please,” he adds, pulling the duvet up over his shoulder.
Dream clears his throat and hums to find the right note.
He sings softly. Barely a whisper in George’s ear.
I'm sitting here all by myself
Just trying to think of something to do
Trying to think of something anything
Just to keep me from thinking of you
But you know it’s not working out
Cause your all that's on my mind
One thought of you is all it takes
To leave the rest of the world behind
George fights it, but starts to drift off during the chorus. The melody, and sweet timbre of Dream’s voice lulls him under.
Eventually the singing stops, and he hears Dream from far away say, “I miss you, George.” But he’s too far gone to answer.
The next day the swelling persists in George’s feet, and has also climbed up his legs. He gets up slowly and goes in search of some Paracetamol, or what Dream calls “Tylenol” for his headache. He’s been having headaches all week, on and off, but George remembers reading early in his pregnancy that headaches were normal. Or was it just normal early in pregnancy?
George wishes he could ring his mum. But they’d left things so poorly last time he saw her that he just can’t. Not yet. George loves his parents, but their religious bigotry makes it hard for them to see past their own noses sometimes.
In the kitchen, George makes toast and tea, and then wanders into the streaming room he and Dream share with the intent on seeing if any of the other boys are streaming. The house is quiet, and he thinks Sapnap must still be sleeping.
Once he’s in the streaming room, George gets distracted by the amount of dust on his and Dream’s Play Buttons on the wall. Setting his tea down on the desk, Georges retreats back out into the hall, and to the hall closet where he finds some dusting spray and a cloth.
George busies himself dusting off the shelves, picture frames and, lastly, the YouTube Play Buttons that he and Dream have acquired. George is proud of all they’ve achieved so far.
George starts to think about how today might be a good day to open the rest of the boxes full of items they purchased for Baby’s room and organize. The C-section isn’t for a few weeks but--
George sees the motion and instinctively moves his foot out of the way in time. The crash of the Play button hitting the floor is loud, and soon George hears the heavy footsteps of Sapnap.
“It’s fine,” George yells as a wide-eyed, wild-haired Sapnap finds him a few minutes later. “I’m fine.”
Sapnap comes to stand next to George and looks down.
Sapnap bends down and turns over the Diamond Play button--Dream’s diamond Play Button and the Diamon promptly falls. George lets out a shriek of surprise. “Don’t call Dream. I’ll fix it. I can fix it, right?” He starts to feel the tears prickle behind his eyes and his chest gets tight.
“George. George, sit down,” Sapnap says. He doesn’t wait and George soon feels himself being moved toward and into the closest chair, which is Dream’s. “Nobody fucking cares about the Play Button. We’ll fix it later.”
“But--”
“George. Calm down. Breathe,” Sapnap says.
George does what Sapnap says, taking deep breaths and then lays his head into his hands. The headache has now started to throb behind his eyes.
He should tell Sapnap he’s unwell. But Sapnap will just freak out and tell Dream who will feel obligated to rush home and miss this opportunity. When really, all George probably needs is a long nap. “I’m going to go lay back down,” George tells Sapnap.
Dream calls again that night but George can barely keep his eyes open. He feels vaguely nauseated and had skipped dinner. Sapnap brought him his water bottle and demanded he drink it, even refusing to leave the room until he room until he’d seen George down a few swallows.
George sips his tea and sits quietly in the darkened streaming room. After napping most of the day, his body was now tense and cramped and tired of being in bed. It was after dark, but not yet morning. George doesn’t bother to check the time. He feels bad he couldn’t stay awake during Dream’s call last night. But, no matter, Dream should be headed home today. Unfortunately, that meant, because of the long drive, that he wouldn’t actually be home until tomorrow.
George opens his Twitch tab and sees that Karl is streaming. He must be feeling better already. He joins the chat and it looks like he and Corpse and some others are just finishing a stream of Friday the 13th. Karl doesn’t notice George is in the chat and continues thanking donos, saying his goodbyes, then raiding Tina Kitten who is starting her own stream.
Once Karl ends his stream, George exits and calls Karl on his phone.
“Hey, buddy!” Karl answers. “How is the baby situation going?”
“Good. Can’t sleep, though.”
“That seems like the opposite of your usual problem,” Karl teases.
“Haha. You took a swift recovery?”
Karl giggles, because that seems to be his initial default reaction to everything. “What do you mean? Recovery from what?”
“Your Mono. That you apparently caught by sharing a drink with a certain Mr. Beast,” George says.
Karl giggles again. Then stops when he seems to realize George is serious. “Wait. No, actually? I don’t have Mono. But I would hope that the rumor would at least be that I caught it from making out with Mr. Beast. That, at least, would be more interesting. You could start that rumor if you’d like.”
“Sure. I’ll um, I’ll do that. Sorry Karl, I need to let you go so I can go murder Sapnap in cold blood.”
“Alright, buddy. You do-- wait, did you just say--”
George ends the call and, pushing himself to his feet, makes his way down the hall to Sapnap’s room. Slowly and carefully, of course, but determinedly. He gives Sapnap a two bang warning before twisting the knob. Rather anticlimactically, the door is actually locked so George has to wait for Sapnap to come open it.
“Sapnap! Oh, Sapnap! I need to speak to you!” George taunts him. He feels a sudden sharp pain in his lower abdomen. He rubs the area absently. George is sick and tired of being babied. At least . . . when he doesn’t ask to be babied. When it’s not his choice.
He feels another pain, like a knife ripping through flesh, and this time it bends him over. Or as much as he can bend with no waist.
He hears the door swing open in front of him and straightens up. “I will not be treated this way!” he yells in Sapnap’s face. Sapnap, for his part, still looks half-asleep and fully confused.
“Huh?” Sapnap grunts at him.
“I just spoke to Karl Jacobs who, interestingly enough, does not have Mono. He’s fit as a fiddle,” George carries on.
“So what? Dream wouldn’t have left you alone. You know he wouldn’t have. And I know you agree with me that Dream needed and deserves to do this, so you’re welcome.”
George sputters. And rubs at the painful lower belly absently. “You still lied to me, and you owe me an apology.”
“No.”
“What do you mean ‘no’?” George hisses as the pain seems to be becoming more persistent.
“It means the opposite of ‘yes’. What are you doing? Do you have to piss?” Sapnap asks.
George doesn’t answer because suddenly there’s a wave of dizziness and his vision starts to go all wonky. He feels hands gripping him and he’s being eased to the floor. Something is wrong.
“Something is wrong,” he manages to say out loud. “Call Dream.”
Sapnap says something about an ambulance, but George repeats, or tries to repeat (the pain is taking his breath away and making it hard to talk) that he needs Dream.
George feels the oxygen mask being slipped onto his face by a paramedic who he feels has a striking resemblance to JSchlatt, or maybe that’s just his perception because of whatever drug the man is feeding into George’s IV line.
There’s a blur of people and voices once they reach hospital and people keep shouting things about George and the baby. He’s sent for tests and blood is drawn from his arm. His blood pressure is taken frequently, and he is attached to a lot of new stickers and wires. The best thing about that being that he can hear the beeping representing Baby’s heartbeat on the machine next to him.
From what he can gather, because no one seems to be speaking directly to him, is that his placenta is separating from his uterus and he’s bleeding internally.
Next to him the beeping slows from usual it’s quick-steady rhythm.
“Bradycardia. That baby needs to come out immediately or we’re going to lose it,” the doctor says from the end of the bed to the team of doctor’s in the room. Then, realizing George is more or less lucid, she says more quietly to George, “We’re going to start a transfusion and take you directly to the OR. Is there anyone that you’d like me to call?”
The nurse comes in with a bag of blood and starts to hook it into George’s IV line.
George swallows. “Dream,” he chokes out.
“I’m here, George!” Everyone in the room turns as his tall and gorgeous husband bursts around the curtain. He’s like a ray of sunshine.
George is still kissing Dream’s face when he hears someone yell that they have to move, and the bed being unlocked. Dream somehow gets out of the headlock George has him in. Then a nurse grabs Dream’s arm and he’s ripped away from George completely as George’s bed keeps moving down the hall. George keeps his hand outstretched toward Dream for as long as he can, until someone tucks it under the blanket. The panic dulls and morphs into to a confusing state of vertigo. He sniffles against the tears until it all goes black.
When he wakes, Sapnap is inexplicably in the chair to the right of George’s bed. George is having trouble keeping his eyes open. He feels a kiss being placed on his left hand and when he sees Dream sitting there, still in his blue scrubs everything comes flooding back to him.
He reaches down to his tummy. “Where’s Baby?” he slurs.
“She’s in the nursery. I’ll get her,” Sapnap says, jumping to his feet. “You really need to name her.”
“Why Sapnap?” he asks, knowing all of his words aren’t coming out. Drugs are apparently a thing.
Dream laughs. “I told them we were in a poly relationship so he could come in.”
“Gross,” George and Sapnap say at the same time.
“Don’t ever fucking say that again,” Sapnap says, and he visibly shudders as he leaves the room.
“I’m cold. Cuddle me,” George says.
Dream manages to slide his slim frame next to George in the hospital bed and loop his arms around him. George tries to turn on his side to give Dream more room but stops with a stinging pain rips through him.
“Careful of your stitches, baby,” Dream tells him, before kissing him on the forehead.
Sapnap returns with a little wheeled cart with a sleeping baby in it. He scoops the baby up and brings them over to George’s side of the bed and places the baby, wrapped tightly in a blanket, in George’s waiting arms. Dream puts his hand under George’s elbow to help support the weight.
George remembers something Sapnap said a minute ago. “She?” he says, tears filling his eyes.
Dream leans closer and peppers kisses to George’s cheek and up into his hair. “Isn’t she pretty?”
George blinks away the tears enough to run his gaze over her tiny features. “She’s perfect,” he says. He nudges her little cap off with his fingertips to reveal a head of black curls.
“Awww,” George exclaims as more tears roll down his cheeks.
“Healthy, too!” Sapnap puts in from where he’s settled himself back into the chair. He puts his feet up on George’s bed. “Strong lungs. Dream said when she came out, she yelled louder than you filming that Minecraft tag video you two did when you still lived at home.”
George remembers. “I woke my parents up with all the yelling,” George says, feeling a little damper being reminded that his parents won’t be sharing in their joy.
“Oh, that reminds me,” Sapnap says. He reaches under his chair and pulls out a parcel and holds it out.
George can see that the return address is from the UK. “What? Lemme see. It’s from my Nan! I thought everyone back home hated me.”
“No one hates you George, they just don’t understand,” Dream says.
George doesn’t want to argue. He shrugs. “You open it, Dream, I want to keep holding her.”
“You got her?” Dream asks.
“Someone better give her a name,” Sapnap says. “You can’t keep calling the baby ‘her’ and ‘she’.”
George ignores him. “Yes, Dream. I have her. I’m fully awake now.”
Dream let’s go of his elbow and takes the parcel from Sapnap. George peers over Baby to watch his progress. Dream tears off the tape and folds open the top. Inside there are four bundles wrapped in tissue paper. Three larger, and one smaller.
Dream unrolls the first one carefully revealing a soft rag doll version of George’s Minecraft character. Fashioned with exaggeratedly long arms and legs and round hands and feet. The doll is dressed in George’s trademark outfit complete with goggles.
Dream makes a soft sound and Sapnap says, “That’s adorable. A Gogy doll.”
George takes a breath in. “Open the others.”
Dream does as he’s told. The two others are, again, rag dolls in the form Dream and Sapnap’s Minecraft characters. “No way!” Sapnap says, taking his from Dream and examining it. “It’s uncle Sap!”
Dream opens the last bundle of tissue with shaky hands, obviously overcome with emotion. The last is a baby. But it’s a baby dream blob.
“Is there a note?” George asks.
Dream finds a note folded at the bottom of the parcel beneath a stray piece of tissue paper. He clears his throat and reads.
“A baby’s first dollies should be of their family. Congratulations, Georgie. I can’t wait to meet your baby . . . and the rest of your found family.“ Dream has to stop and wipe his eyes and breathe through the tears. Sapnap looks like he’s welling up, even if he’s fighting it. Finally Dream clears his throat again and finishes the note. “Love, Nana Alice.”
George looks down at the sweet face of their sleeping daughter. “I think we have a name for Baby.”