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All Dream wants is to lie face down in his bed and wait for the day to end. He feels like he's been twisted one way and then the other, completely wrung out and now that he has a second to breathe he's absolutely fucking exhausted. The MCC win was great, the OU win was great, but the whole rest of the day - it's just too much for his already sleep-deprived mind to comprehend.
But his mom knocks on the door and says, "I'm making dinner, hon. Get your butt up."
He laughs into his pillow and whines, "Moooom."
He doesn't really mind that his family is still hanging around. It's nice to have them in his space for once. It makes this house feel like home after so many hours and days and weeks in the silence of the walls, the only voices coming out of his computer speakers or his phone.
"Nope," she says. "None of that. Up and at 'em. You need to help me get the steaks on the grill. Your dad is about twenty minutes away from hangry but I think smelling something grilling will perk him right up."
He groans and gets up. "Fine, fine. I'll start the steaks."
-
He's sitting on his couch watching his sister play with Patches when he remembers to take his phone off of do not disturb. He has a lot of messages, but he ignores most of them to open a series of them from Sapnap.
yo
george ok??
Dream frowns at his phone. Is George okay? Yeah, as far as he knows.
He sends back a few question marks.
Sapnap replies again with a link.
Dream knows better than to open things from his friends with his sister's impressionable ears in the vicinity. He's sure she sees all the same things on the internet that he did at that age, but he'd catch hell if he were the person specifically contributing to her moral downfall.
So he gets up and walks past them, into his office where he sits at the computer chair. He opens the link and watches, not understanding for a few minutes until his eyes land on George's hands reaching up to grasp his head.
Dream's stomach lurches. He sees George struggling and then falling and he immediately wants to know when this happened, what the context around the short video clip was, why didn't George tell him.
He calls Sapnap.
"Bro," Sapnap says. "Some weird shit is up with George. Did you watch that thing I sent you?"
"Yeah," Dream says. "My family is still here, I haven't talked to him in a while. Is he still live?"
"Yeah," Sapnap says. "He didn't answer my texts. I guess 'cause he's streaming and all."
Dream is watching the short video, someone's recording of a screen on twitter, over and over. "He's a fucking dumbass."
"Right? Bro, get him," Sapnap says. "I have to finish this assignment before midnight but if something's up let me know. I can flunk one paper without it killing my grade too much. Or I'll half-ass it while we're in a vc."
"You already put it off for all of MCC," Dream says. "I'll talk to him."
"Well let me know he's not like, dying or something, at least," Sapnap says. "Text me."
"Yeah, man. Thanks for the heads up," Dream says. "And tell Karl fuck you for not hitting me up to begin with."
"Look..." Sapnap says. "Go easy on Karl, okay? We just know you had a headfuck of a day so he didn't want to put anything extra on you."
"It's George, though," Dream says.
"Yeah," Sapnap says. "And that's why I called you. Now, like I said, go tell that dumbass to stop streaming and fucking sleep or go to a doctor or something."
"Yeah, okay," Dream says, and he hangs up.
He goes to tell his parents goodbye quickly. He says a friend is having an emergency and really hates that it isn’t even a lie. His mom has a key, and he hugs them goodbye then lets them see themselves out.
Since George is still live, Dream texts instead of calls. He pulls George's stream up while he does it, using an incognito tab so no one calls him out for lurking in the chat.
For a second he just looks at George. He's paler than normal and his eyes don't seem to focus on the game they way they normally would.
He sends: are you ok?
He sees George look at it, glancing to where he always keeps his phone during streams.
Dream doesn't like being ignored. Not about this.
george end the stream
please
There's another glance to the side and then George says, "I think I'm gonna end the stream."
Dream slumps back against the chair in relief.
It still takes another four minutes of goodbyes to the people he's streaming with and the chat, but once Dream sees the screen go black on his end he calls George.
George answers almost immediately. "I'm fine," he says.
"Are you sure?" Dream asks.
"I am, I'm just. I don't know," George says. "But I'm fine. I'm fine."
Dream hones in on one part. "You don't know? Did you - was that - real? Did you pass out on stream, George? Because that's not fine."
"I - maybe," George says. "I don't know. I guess, like. Yeah. But I'm fine."
Dream spins in his chair facing his computer screen again. "Tell me your symptoms," he says, ready to google it.
"My head starting hurting before MCC was over," George says. "And the headache got worse and the screen starts to get all blurry and hard to look at."
"But you kept looking anyway," Dream says. "Because you're an idiot like that and put yourself in danger."
"I'm not - Dream, I'm not in danger. "
"What if you'd hit your head when you'd fallen?" Dream asks. He knows he probably sounds a little harsh, but he's annoyed by George's evasions. "You are literally alone, George, you said your mom is traveling this week. I wouldn't know how to get anyone to you. I don't even know your address. Which - actually, send it to me, right now. In case this ever happens again."
"Do you want a blood and urine sample with it?" George asks, voice noticeably irate. "I already feel like shit, Dream, stop yelling at me about it."
"I'm not-" Dream stops himself from snapping. He softens his voice. "I'm sorry, George. That was just scary to watch."
"I'll send you my address," George says. "When I get up. I just want to lie here right now and keep my eyes closed."
"Wait, first - okay, you can rest, but do you want water near you? And something you can take for your headache?" Dream asks.
George groans. "I could just go to sleep and I'll wake up feeling better."
"You don't know that," Dream says. "If you're, if you're dehydrated, or - have you even eaten anything today, George?"
George groans again. "Yes. I had an apple."
"When?"
"This morning."
"George!" Dream can't help but revert back to scolding. "Okay, you're sending me your address right now, and I'm sending you food. Something - actually nourishing."
"McDonalds," George says.
"No," Dream says. "I'm sending you something with protein and nutrients."
"If it isn't McDonalds I won't eat it," George says. "Just sent me chicken nuggets. And fries."
"At least a burger," Dream says. "Please."
"Fine," George says. "A burger."
Dream adds two burgers, a grilled chicken salad, two wraps, a large order of fries, and the chicken nuggets George actually requested. He remembers George likes the mozzarella sticks and adds some of those too.
George doesn't say anything while Dream works on the food order, going through and removing things he knows George won't eat from the burgers. Dream is afraid he really has fallen asleep, but when Dream says, "Send me your address?" he can hear George shuffling around to get his phone.
"Okay," Dream says. "Half an hour."
"Can I just sleep until then?" George asks.
"Only if you don't hang up," Dream says. "And you have to tell me if you're about to pass out again."
"Okay," George says, in a softer voice than Dream has ever heard from him. "You don't hang up either."
It doesn't make much sense, but the plaintive request still makes Dream smile.
-
"George," Dream says.
He's spent the last thirty minutes working on editing, but the food delivery app has just told him George's food is there.
George makes an incoherent noise.
"Get up," Dream says. "You need to eat."
George huffs like he's annoyed but Dream tracks the sounds of him getting out of bed and going to the door. He likes that George takes him along without Dream having to ask.
"What the fuck," George says, voice all sleepy confusion. "Dream, they gave me someone else's order. This is food for like ten people."
"Um." Dream clears his throat. Maybe he did go a little overboard. "No, actually. It's all yours."
"Dream. I will literally never eat all of this," George says.
"So put some stuff in the fridge," Dream says. "Have it tomorrow."
"Fine - wait, is this a salad? Did you get me a salad? Wow you really hate me."
"It'll be good," Dream says.
"Then you come eat it," George says.
"George, if I could literally get on a plane and be allowed into your country right now, I would. Just to make sure you don't actually stay up for twenty-four hours on Minecraft and injure yourself somehow."
"Aw," George says. It's muffled through what Dream can only assume is a fistful of fries. "You wanna come visit me. You care about me. You love me."
"Yeah," Dream says. "I actually do."
Sometimes it's the only way to stop George's mocking in its tracks - and sometimes it doesn't even work.
But it seems to work this time.
George eats in silence for a few minutes. "Thank you," he says. "I do feel better."
"Are you drinking something too?"
"Yeah," George says. "I got water."
"Okay, good," Dream says.
There's more silence, just the sound of George chewing. Dream thinks it should be gross, but for some reason it isn't.
"I'm getting back into bed," George says.
Not enough time has passed for him to have eaten enough, but Dream is satisfied that at least he isn't inadvertently starving himself.
"Tell me what you're doing as you do it," Dream says.
He doesn't really think George is going to faint again. He just wants George to keep talking anyway.
"Um, I'm turning my light off now. I'm walking into the bathroom. I'm putting my phone on the counter. I'm pissing."
"Okay, I can hear that, thanks," Dream says. "Wash your hands when you're finished."
"I'm washing my hands," George says, the rush of water slightly too loud. "Now I'm getting my water and getting back in bed."
"What time is it there?" Dream asks. He could just check, but he doesn't.
"It's like... half one or something. 'S early," George says.
"Not for you," Dream says. "Not tonight."
"If I fall asleep right now our sleep times are gonna be way off," George whines.
"Nah," Dream says. "We'll fix it. Maybe I'll just go to bed early."
Hanging out on calls with George has been a saving grace for him after going from living with people his entire twenty years to suddenly living alone. George - George and Sapnap both - have the ability to chase the shadows out of the corners of the rooms and keep Dream from getting too much in his head.
"Yeah," George says. "It's been a long day for you, too."
He sounds like he's speaking into something - a pillow or a blanket. Dream has the urge to tell George to use his camera, but he knows George's room is dark and he doesn't want anything to distract George from sleeping.
"Yeah," Dream says. "Weird day. Like, so much good? We fucking won MCC! But also... yeah, everything else. Weird."
As he's talking he turns his monitors off, then walks from his office down the short hall to his bedroom. He pulls his t-shirt over his head and steps out of his sweatpants, then gets under the covers. It should be too early for him to actually go to bed but maybe the last few days of broken sleep have pushed him to a point where it's possible anyway.
"Mhm," George mumbles. "Hey, Dream?"
"Yeah?" Dream says.
"I was scared," George says. He's quiet about it in a way that grips Dream's heart.
"Yeah," Dream says. "That looked scary."
"It just felt like there were drums pounding inside of my skull," George says. "And like I felt like... nauseous, I actually thought I was going to throw up. Like I could tell something was happening and it wasn't good, but I didn't know what to do and I didn't want to just leave the stream."
"But you're okay," Dream says, gentling his voice to match. They're not quite whispering to each other, but it's close. “And - if it helps, while you were asleep, I did some googling. Apparently people that are colorblind are more susceptible to something called vasovagal syncope - I’m probably not pronouncing that right - and basically your brain probably got overstimulated or something. So I don’t think you’re dying of anything.”
“That’s so impressive,” George says. “How you got your medical degree in half an hour just to diagnose me.”
“Shut up,” Dream says, laughing. “I’m not - obviously it might have been something else. I just think it makes sense. And I just - needed to make sure, you know? That I shouldn’t be telling you to get up and get your butt to the emergency room or something.”
"Thank you,” George says, unexpectedly. "I wouldn't let anyone else but you do this for me."
"I'm glad you let me," Dream says. "It means a lot to me that you do."
"You're good at taking care of people," George says.
"Well," Dream says, unsure how to respond to that.
In an even smaller voice George says, "You're good at taking care of me."
"George..." Dream wants to smile, wants to frown, wants to shake George to make sure George is okay with what he's saying, because the George Dream knows best wouldn't really be. “You okay? Are you feeling okay now?”
“Yeah,” George says. “Just sleepy.”
“Then you need to sleep.”
“But I don’t want to,” George says.
“Okay. Then what do you want to do?”
“Want… a head rub,” George says. “Come rub my head. Make my headache go away by rubbing my head.”
Dream laughs. “I mean, I literally can’t.”
“But if you could?” George asks. “Would you give me a head rub?”
“Yeah,” Dream says. “Sure, if it would make you feel better?”
“Just if it would make me feel better?” George asks. “Not for any other reason?”
Dream is confused now, but he’s willing to give George some slack since he’s already admitted he still doesn’t feel great. “What other reason would I?”
“Never mind,” George says, then yawns. “My head feels a little better, anyway.”
“Okay?” The confusion deepens.
“Nothing,” George says, then repeats, “Never mind.”
He sounds slightly panicked in a way that’s making Dream react in kind.
“George,” Dream says. He’s completely lost now. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing,” George says, gasping a little even when he’s trying to be quiet about it. “Fuck. Dream, I don’t know.”
“George-” Dream’s heart feels like it’s stopping completely in his chest when he realized he can hear the sound of George’s breath hitching.
“I don’t know,” George says again, and his voice breaks on the last word.
He’s crying.
George is crying, and Dream has dealt with a lot of shitty conversations and painful situations and a lot of things that made him feel bad but he’s not sure anything has ever hit him as hard and fast as the sound of George crying. He’s never heard it before and he immediately never wants to hear it again, not in the way that he’d ask George not to but in a way that he’d move a mountain to make sure it doesn’t happen again.
“George,” Dream says, desperate to make this better. “It’s okay. Whatever it is, it’s okay.”
“It’s not,” George says, and he keeps making those broken, stripped down sounds, the ones still gutting Dream.
All Dream can do is listen and try to say things that might help. He doesn’t think they’re helping at all, but he doesn’t stop.
It only takes a couple of minutes for George to go quiet, save a few sniffles here and there.
He hears the sound of George blowing his nose on something, and then nothing for a few more minutes until George finally says, “I’m sorry,” in a raw voice.
“Don’t be,” Dream says immediately. “I think there’s probably like - some kind of medical correlation between passing out and feeling really emotional. I think this is just your body going through a process.”
“Yeah,” George says. “I guess.”
“You’re okay, though,” Dream says, like if he repeats it one more time maybe it’ll be true.
“I made my headache worse,” George says, choking out a laugh at himself. “I’m such a mess. I feel so poorly. Not like I’m actually ill, just - I don’t know. A mess.”
“Me too,” Dream says. “Today was just a lot. It’s okay. There’s no need for us to pretend to be okay in front of each other. We can be messes together.”
“Yeah?” George asks. He sounds hopeful, and a little more himself.
“There’s literally no one I’d rather be a mess with,” Dream says. “I really mean it.”
He has no idea why, but it seems like that’s what makes George actually calm down. They talk a little more, safe and easy topics like when George’s mum will be back and whether or not George will eat the salad in the fridge, and what they’ll do tomorrow when they both wake up.
Then George is asleep, and Dream isn’t. He tries to but every time he starts to drift away he hears a sound from the phone - a siren blaring on the streets outside of George’s house or the squeak of the bedsprings as George moves around or a sound from George himself, and stays awake a little longer just to listen.