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It had already been a bad situation in the first place.
Charging forwards, Dream drove his blade into George’s stomach. Eyes meeting his, George frowned. Tipped his head to the side and blinked. “Dre—Dream? Something—” Shaking his head, George stumbled back a bit. Touched the blood spreading across his stomach. Something was wrong. Something was really wrong, actually. Shaking, George shook his head a little bit. Dropped to the side. Immediately, Dream caught him a bit. Held onto him.
“George? What’s wrong?” Dream asked, sinking to the ground with him. Raising his hand, he touched George’s neck. Frowned all of a sudden. Worry crossed his face. “Hold on, hold on, come here.” He pulled George against him and sat down, quickly used some extra bandages to secure the sword in George’s body. “Okay, let’s just…we’re not going to move that, we’re going to keep it where it is and then make sure that you don’t pull that out. We need to keep your blood in you, okay?” He kissed George’s hair, slowly turned him so that George could lean against him. Carefully, he adjusted George slightly so that he could be comfortable and then the sword in his gut didn’t get shifted. It still hurt, but the hand on his arm helped keep him calm. And pain-free.
“You shouldn’t be pulling pain.” George murmured under his breath, resting his head against Dream’s collarbone. Carefully, Dream shifted him again. Kept pulling pain. Then, calmly, he started typing away on his communicator. Doubtlessly calling for help, that was really the only thing they could do in the moment. Panting, George dropped against him a little bit more. Closed his eyes.
The next thing he knew, he was being shaken awake by Bad. The man was looking at him with worry in his eyes. Coughing, George tipped his head back. Blinked. There was a sort of fuzzy feeling, like he was dropping. “George?” Gently, he shook him again. “George, please hold on. We’re gonna—”
His voice died out, and George woke up to water lapping at his fingertips. Groaning, he opened his eyes a bit more. Tipped his head to the side.
There was water gushing into where they had been.
Which was an issue, because this was their spawn. And their spawn was currently flooding with water. No. No, no, I need to get out. Gasping, he dragged himself across the ground. Cried out as it aggravated the wound to his middle. Looking down, George felt his heart drop even lower. Oh. So that’s what’s wrong.
Something happened with the world code, there must be a glitch. There was still a wound to his stomach. Still a bloody red slash through his middle. The sword was gone, so were all his items. Shaking off the injury as best he could, praying to anyone listening that he didn’t end up with sepsis from crawling through brackish water, George hauled himself over to where they had gotten out earlier. His fingers stubbed against a layer of stones. What? Gasping, George looked around. It was dark. Too dark, but there hadn’t been any mobs spawning because they were all near the others. Which meant he was alone, for now. Not good, not good.
Pushing under him, George tried to get up. Pain shot through his stomach and chest. Crying out, he collapsed. The water was up to his hips and shoulders now, crashed over him as he dropped against the floor. It rushed into his nose, down his throat, into his lungs as he tried to suck in a breath on instinct. Shoving himself up again, George coughed and spluttered. Shook his head. Scrabbled for his communicator. The water continued to pour in from somewhere above his head. No. No, no, please. Please. This can’t happen, this can’t be happening. Not right now. Please!
The water hit his chin. He couldn’t even see his communicator, the water was in the way. Raising it above his head, wincing as his muscles strained at the injury, George stared at the screen. It was cracked and broken. No. No, no, come on! He smacked his arm against the wall. Felt the water continuing to rise rapidly. Something was wrong, something was very, very wrong. The water reached his nose. Tipping his head back, George took a breath. Reached up and secured his goggles. Pulled his communicator down and squinted through the tears in his eyes, then started typing away.
<George> someone come help
<George> please I need help there’s water evreryhwere
<George> I don’t know how long I’m going to be able to breathe
A pulse of pain hit him as the water suddenly shuddered around him. Gasping, George felt his mouth snap open. Felt water rushing into his lungs. No. No, please. Stop it. I need to breathe, I need to—
Everything darkened out as the water shook again, and his head slammed against the wall behind him, eyes going dark.
+++
George drowned
<Dream> George?
<Dream> George hold on we’re going to be right there I promise
<Dream> we’re gonna fix this ASAP I swear
George drowned
+++
“He’s in a spawn loop!”
Bad yelled it as they were sprinting back to spawn. They didn’t have any other choice. If they died and spawned back in, then they were going to end up carrying whatever wounds they had with them. At least, that was the working theory. Otherwise, there was no reason for George not to have been able to get out of spawn. Or, worse, if there was, then they would just have more people stuck in the same loop. If they stayed out, if they ran back to spawn, then they could help him. Then they could fix things. As it was, though, they needed to hurry.
Running harder, Dream reached into the world code and pulled. The ground was shaking. Kept shaking randomly. “We’re on an unstable server. I’m trying to steady it!” He warned Sapnap, who was looking at him as Dream’s eyes burned bright green. He could already pick up on the growing green tinge. Beneath them, the ground started to shake.
“Those tremors are only going to get stronger the closer we get to spawn, we need to move fast!” Sam warned. Turning, Dream spotted an Enderman. Got an idea. Then, he yanked on the server again.
“I have an idea.”
+++
George drowned
Thrashing, George kicked off the ground. Ignored the blood staining the water dark around him. Ignored the cracks in the goggles and the grit in his eyes. Claws reached for his shoulders as he found the entrance, pulled him back down. Something bit his shoulder hard. On the bright side, he couldn’t become a Drowned. That wasn’t how players worked. They couldn’t become Drowned, they couldn’t become zombies. No one really knew where the mobs came from, it was just…something that happened. And yeah, it hurt to get bitten by one, but at least he knew he wasn’t going to start chomping on his friends once they got there.
If they got there. Maybe they wouldn’t make it in time. How long could respawn loops last? They were stuck on an unstable world, too. How long until they were forced to leave? Were they going to leave him behind, too? Maybe they were just going to keep going with the Manhunt, maybe they thought he was just being an idiot. Maybe they—
George drowned trying to escape Drowned
+++
<Dream> Everyone I need your attention now
<Dream> we’re having an issue with the world; it’s unstable and we’re not helping in anymore because we have an emergency
<Ponk> what do you need us to do?
<Dream> I need everyone possible to get a perimeter around the community house and make sure that it’s spawnproof. Anyone with expertise in potions, we need you to start putting potions together
<Dream> We’re going to need some medical supplies set up in a private wing. Connor, Callahan, Alyssa, Punz, Velvet, Skeppy, the Manhunters, and I are going to need to work with our current injured. Everyone else will be allowed when they allow.
<Dream> actually, Wilbur, you’re allowed too now that I think of it, but no one else. We need to give them some privacy
<Wilbur whispers to Dream> is George the injured one?
<Dream whispers to Wilbur> unfortunately yes. He’s in a spawn camp and we’re trying to get him out of it, but he’s drowning right now
<Wilbur whispers to Dream> I’ll make sure there’s the proper supplies. Don’t forget to protect yourselves, too.
<Dream whispers to Wilbur> there’ll be an attempt
<Wilbur whispers to Dream> I’m serious, Dream. You won’t be a help to anyone else if you hurt yourselves, too.
+++
When they got to the spawn location, they had to take a moment.
Standing at the spot they’d escaped from, Sapnap and Dream looked around. “He’s drowning. Which means there needs to be an entrance over there.” He pointed to the river. Hurrying over, Bad and Sam glanced around. A couple feet away, Ant was frantically going through everyone’s bags, making water breathing, health, regen, and strength potions. George was going to need the last three. Badly, too.
Looking at them, Dream turned back to the pit. Then, he rolled his sleeves up. Paused and then stripped his hoodie off. Normally, Sapnap would have made some joke about Dream undressing. This time, though, there was nothing. No jokes, just a bit of quiet worry as he looked down at the hole in front of them. It was filled with water. Even if he wanted to, Sapnap’s water resistance potions had run out and he wasn’t going to dare ask for more. Not when George was dying under their feet.
Their communicators buzzed again, another toll of the death bell that George was rapidly raising up. Casually, Dream handed his hoodie to Sapnap. Shucked off his boots and kicked them to the side. “He’s not going to have much energy left if we don’t get to him now. The potions won’t be ready in time.” Dream mused softly. He grabbed a couple of bottles and swept them through the air, trying his best to catch some oxygen. If he was going to have to force it into George’s lungs himself, he would.
Then, he turned to Sapnap. Their gazes met for a moment. “Be careful, please.” Sapnap said. Smiling, Dream reached out. Touched his shoulder.
“I’ll try. First, I’m gonna get him back.”
Dream stepped into the hole, diving down.
It wasn’t—well, it wasn’t really a hole. Honestly, it was more of a pit that happened to be filled with water, four blocks wide and well than deep enough for Dream to flip himself around even though he stepped in foot first. So he switched around and swam down, squinting in the darkness. Brackish water swarmed around him, and he held his hands in front of him carefully. There was blood in the water, he could taste it when some got into his mouth without him trying to. Still holding his breath, he kept swimming down. Found himself at the bottom of the pit. His hands collided with rocks.
No wonder he couldn’t get out. The path’s blocked, he realized. Quickly, he pulled the stones away as best as he could. His lungs burned, but he didn’t bother trying to use the bottles he had. Instead, he pulled the stones away as much as he could, found them looser under his hands. The water and mud must have held them together while it was still filling up. He pulled the rocks away, scattered them across the pit floor. Then, he pushed off the ground. Swam for the surface.
When he got to the surface, he poked his head up. Found Sapnap and the others waiting for him. “The tunnel’s direct to them down there.” He said, clinging to the edge. “It’s totally flooded down there. I could barely see anything, the water’s so brackish.” He quickly explained as Ant handed him several water breathing potions. Downing one, he continued, “I think we’re only going to be able to get one of us through there at a time. I’ll go, get him out. Make sure you’re ready with as many potions as you can, alright? I trust you.”
Then, he dove back down again.
He found the entrance to the cave George was in. Hurrying through, he heard the telltale, watery growl of a Drowned. Pulling his sword out, he slashed at the monster when it came close. It died, and he cast out a small spurt of energy to check for any more mobs. There weren’t any. There was, however, a body floating a couple feet away from him.
George, Dream realized. Swimming to the man’s side, tucking his sword back into his inventory, he wrapped an arm around the man. Tugged him closer. George went with him pliantly, and Dream kicked off the wall. Kept one arm in front of him to catch when he was going to smack into a wall. Then, gently, he pushed George to the pit floor, crawled through the tunnel underwater. Turning, he grabbed George by the wrists. Tugged him out after him, wrapped an arm around his middle. There was a small kick, some small movement. There you are. He fumbled with his inventory for a moment. Felt George going limp in his arms again. No, no, come on. He pulled out one of the air bottles. Realized George wasn’t going to get the air into his own lungs. Not without help. Hold on, George.
This better work.
+++
By the time that the others rushed through the community house to the server portal room, George was already on the floor and Dream was already leaning over him to give rescue breaths.
Next to him, Bad was taking George’s pulse, while Sapnap was sitting right by George’s shoulder with his hands in the middle of George’s chest. He was already prepped to do compressions. As Dream did the breaths, George’s chest rose and fell once, twice, three times. Then, he sat back. Motioned to Sapnap. Leaning over him, Sapnap started back on compressions. His eyes were narrowed, he had smoke curling off his hands due to his blaze heritage combined with the wetness clinging to George’s clothes. Turning, Dream glanced back. Met Wilbur’s gaze.
Shoulders down, Wilbur stared at him with a worried gaze. Hurried to George’s head and crouched down behind him. Then, he shifted. Looked to Dream. “When you get tired, let me know, I’ll take over rescue breaths.” Dream nodded, a dip of his head. Then, Bad got up. Went to Callahan, Alyssa, and Connor as they started setting up the medical supplies. Sam hurriedly put together one of the beds. Leaning down, Dream forced more air into George’s lungs again. Felt his chest rise and fall a couple more times. Bad came back with one of the respawn locks, one that would force George to stay where he was even if he died. He quickly put it around George’s wrist, and Skeppy followed along after him with medical equipment in his hands. They started hooking George up to wires, only ones that wouldn’t interfere with the resus.
Gasping, Dream sat back, looked at Sapnap. One of his hands went out to catch him against the carpet. Getting lightheaded. Not good, he thought to himself. Shook his head. Reaching over, Wilbur touched his shoulder. They shared a glance. Moving to the side, Dream let Wilbur take his place. Moved to sit at George’s head.
“Come on George. You need to breathe.” He whispered. Gently, Wilbur rubbed a thumb across George’s face.
Under them, George let out a strangled noise and jerked. His leg moved, he tipped his head to the side. Let out another choked noise. His whole arm jerked, and Wilbur reached out. Caught his hand and whispered soothingly to him. “George, come on, you’re okay. We got you.” George jolted. Went still all of a sudden. There was water dripping from his nose and mouth from where it had been filling his lungs. Looking over at Bad, Wilbur said, “We need to get that water out of his lungs. Bad.” Bad looked up. Mouth drawing into a thin line, Bad took a breath. Turned to Skeppy.
“Get me a catheter and a syringe. Now.” Nodding, Skeppy pushed himself up and ran off to grab what he needed. Turning back to George, who was jerking and choking again, Wilbur rubbed a thumb across George’s knuckles.
“You’re going to be fine, George. Come on, your boyfriend’s here.”
“Fiancé.” Dream mumbled. Looking over at him, Wilbur mimicked Bad’s expression, mouth a thin line. “He’s my fiancé. We were going to announce it after this. It was—the Manhunt was for—for a distraction when we announced it. Something for—” He shook his head. Turned his face to the side and rubbed at his eyes. Someone touched his shoulder—Wilbur. Sapnap was still holding his hands to George’s chest, desperately trying to warm him in the hope that it would help him.
“He’s going to be just fine, Dream, I promise.” Wilbur said, smiling in as best of a reassurance as he could give.
Smiling weakly back, Dream turned back to George, brushing his hair from his eyes.
+++
George always looked small when he was in the infirmary, and now was no different.
Dark circles sat under closed eyes. He looked thinner than usual, and Dream reached out. Brushed a hand through dark brown hair. Then, leaning in, he kissed George’s forehead. Closed his eyes for a moment. Even with George’s hand in his, with his other hand’s fingers settled in the curve of George’s wrist to feel his pulse, despite the heart monitor and the IV and everything else around them either checking on George’s vitals or keeping him alive, he still couldn’t…he couldn’t settle. He’d been pacing earlier, before he realized he needed to hold onto George and hold him as best he could and offer whatever support he could if, by some chance, George was there, if George was awake somewhere. He wasn’t, induced coma and all that.
Even with the ventilator down his throat, even with that pushing oxygen in and out of his lungs, George sounded awful. There was a rasp and rattle to his breathing. He sounded so horrible and broken, and Dream—he couldn’t—
Shaking his head, Dream sighed. Raised George’s hand to his mouth and kissed his knuckles again. “You’re going to be okay, George. I promise. I’m going to make sure of it.” He whispered softly. Looked at his fiancé’s closed eyes. “Even if I have to be reckless as hell to do it.”
George didn’t respond, but Dream didn’t expect him to.