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an ocean of trees

Summary:

Day 2 — Hurt/Comfort

George was hungry and cold, and his whole body ached, but there would be no bed waiting for him tonight. In fact, he had no clue where he would be sleeping, or if he even would at all.

It didn’t seem like a particularly safe idea — were there bears in Texas? He couldn’t remember Sapnap saying anything about them, but what if he just didn’t know? What if George woke up and a bear was eating him? Or a pack of rabid wolves? He doubted that would abide by Youtube's community guidelines.

While filming their IRL Manhunt video, George gets lost in the woods.

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Towering pine trees stretched towards the sky, their branches forming a natural canopy that filtered the sunlight, creating dappled patterns on the forest floor. The air was filled with the earthy scent of pine needles and the sweet aroma of wildflowers in bloom. Eager, buzzing mosquitos flew incessantly around their heads and arms despite their attempts to fend them off.

“Ugh, these mosquitoes are relentless!” Sapnap groaned, swatting at the air. “Clay, can I use your bug spray?”

From where he was leaning into the passenger side of their new rented truck, Dream glanced up. There was a thick layer of sunscreen spread across his nose and cheeks, and sunglasses balanced on top of his head. Other than that, he looked decidedly out of place in the outdoors, with his black tactical clothes and shoulder harness. “Oh, so now you want it?” He huffed. “You made fun of me practically the entire way from the airport.”

“To be fair, you did spray it as we were getting off the plane,” Ant pointed out. He and Red had settled under the small gazebo their resident wilderness explorer had packed onto the top of his 4x4.

Speaking of — “Dream’s just extra prepared, guys,” Bad said wisely. The hoodie he was wearing sort of detracted from his words, however. It was hard to take a guy in Deadpool merch seriously. “And Sapnap, you said you were used to the mosquitos here.”

“That’s in Houston,” Sapnap looked around. “I didn’t know it would be so bad out here.”

As far as the eyes could see, was green. Green trees, green bushes, green grass — well, you got the idea. “It’s literally the woods, idiot,” George said. “The cold, dirty, gross woods —”

Red laughed. “It’s not cold!”

“Nah, but it will be,” Sapnap said, coming to George’s rescue even though he’d just been insulting him. “At night.”

“Well, good job, we’re not here more than a couple of hours,” Dream said, shoving a pile of camera equipment into Sapnap’s arms. “Here, you carry, I navigate.”

Sapnap grimaced. “What? Why me? Why can’t George carry all this?”

“Because I’m a princess,” George said primly, unable to keep the pleased smirk off his face. “And you’re, like, a pack mule.”

“I am NOT —”

“Don’t worry, Sapnap,” Bad cut him off with a friendly pat on the back. “I’ll help you carry.” He took a tripod and microphone bag from the precarious pile in Sapnap’s arms. “George can bring the snacks.”

That sounded perfect. “Alright,” George said, practically skipping to Bad’s truck. Because he was a massive pussy, while George, Sapnap and Dream had flown from Orlando in a measly two hours, it had taken Bad two whole days to drive cross-country to their hotel in Houston. On the plus side, though, it had meant he’d been able to bring most of the equipment without having to worry about it getting damaged or stolen in transit. “Ew, is this a Skeppy?” He held the incriminating plushie aloft from where he’d found it sitting in the backseat. “Bad.” It was unsurprising but still disappointing, like finding out a recovering addict still had a liquor cabinet.

Bad flushed fascia behind his mirrored sunglasses. “What? What’s wrong with that? He brings me good luck!”

“Why didn’t you just invite the real Skeppy?” Ant grimaced. “Who knows where that thing’s been.”

"I — I, uh, well, Skeppy is really busy with his own stuff, you know,” Bad's face turned an even deeper shade of red as he stumbled over his words. “And, um, that little guy is just…a piece of him that I can carry around with me. For company.” He tried to hide his embarrassment behind his long hair, but they’d all known him too long to be fooled.

“Wow,” said Red as he got to his feet. He looked at Bad pityingly. “That is the singular most depressing thing I’ve ever heard.”

George turned the little Skeppy over in his hands and laughed. “Hey, Sapnap, catch!” He took aim and threw, even as Bad let out a panicked screech, dropping the tripod and bad to lunge for the toy. He missed, as did Sapnap, whose arms were still full, and it landed harmlessly on the ground.

“Bad!” Dream yelped. “Careful with those!”

“Babe, how the hell was I supposed to catch that?” Sapnap asked, kicking crisp fallen leaves at him. “I have all this stuff.”

But George merely grinned, his delight not waning even as Bad shot him a glare. “George!” He plucked the Skeppy doll up and checked it over. “You could’ve gotten him all dirty!”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you, Bad?” Red chuckled. “Skeppy all dirty.”

“Language!”

“You really need to relax.” George rolled his eyes, but really he was used to it. “It's not like I threw it in a swamp or something.” And he wasn’t going to unless he got really bored.

“You better not even think about it, George! Skeppy is off-limits."

“Yeah, well, I don’t really want to touch it anyway.” He huffed. “Who knows how that thing got so ‘lucky’.” Sapnap laughed, and George preened until the attention.

Luckily for Bad, Dream took charge before they could devolve even further into bickering. “Enough,” he said, holding his hands up. “We have to get going before the sun sets. You don’t want to be filming at night, do you?”

“Pretty sure we’d die,” Ant said, glancing around. He shivered, clutching his jacket tighter around himself. They’d gone for themed outfits, but it was pretty hard to theme ‘furry’ unless he wanted to run around in a fursuit, and strangely, that idea had been vetoed when George suggested it. “It looks like it gets pretty cold here with all the trees and stuff.”

“It does,” Sapnap agreed. “I used to come here hunting with my grandpa, and I remember having to wear, like, two coats.” Right now, he was wearing a white tee over a black long-sleeve and cargos, and he was doing things to George that probably were not appropriate in front of their friends.

“Well, it should only take a couple of hours. The guy I spoke to said there’s a pretty good spot about ten minutes that way.” Dream pointed off into the trees, but how he knew it was that specific way, George couldn’t guess.

“Great, walking,” he muttered, but Sapnap must’ve heard because he wandered over as the others continued their filming talks. Red was, after all, going to be the one behind the camera. “Why did we agree to this again?”

“Hey, it’ll be fun!” Sapnap grinned. “Besides, by the time we get to my mom’s, the pecan pie she said she’s making for us should be ready.”

George didn’t think he’d ever eaten a pecan in his life. “Sounds great,” he mumbled, because the last thing he wanted to think about was meeting Sapnap’s mum. He turned away to heave the cooler out of Bad’s truck.

“Hey, what —”

“Ready?” George asked brusquely. He knew he was being rude, but he couldn’t handle Sapnap asking him if he was okay because the answer was surely ‘fuck no, I’m not’.

For a long moment, his boyfriend merely examined him with those pretty hazel eyes, and his expression was so knowing that George felt completely transparent.

Eventually, he sighed. “Alright. Dream?”

Dream glanced over at the call of his name and locked the rented truck. “Yeah, let’s go. Everyone got everything?”

They all called affirmative, and with the equipment redistributed and everyone loaded up with their designated gear, they finally set out. The trail meandered through the tall pines, and the dappled sunlight danced on the forest floor as the leaves rustled in the gentle breeze. George’s feet hurt after about two minutes.

He said as much. Multiple times. To the point that everyone was shooting him dirty looks every time he opened his mouth.

"Come on, it's not that bad," Ant said, nudging their shoulders together as they walked. But the Texan heat, even shielded from it as they were under the trees, combined with George’s lack of enthusiasm for hiking and the heavy cooler he was carrying, did not make walking any easier.

"It's easy for you to say," George grumbled. “You and Red do this all the time.” For fun. George had often heard them talk about it on Discord.

“Not all the time,” Ant said, glancing fondly up ahead to where Red was chatting with Bad. “Don’t you and Sapnap ever go out hiking?”

George sighed. “Well, not really,” he admitted, kicking at a loose pebble on the trail. “We're usually busy with online stuff. Plus, I'm not exactly the outdoorsy type.”

“Nothing wrong with that,” Ant said with a shrug. “But every once in a while, it's good to step out of your comfort zone and explore the real world too.”

“Are you trying to give me a life lesson while we're hiking?”

“Maybe.” Ant chuckled. “Just saying, you might find it enjoyable.”

Sapnap, who had been walking with Dream up ahead, glanced back with a smile. “Alright?”

George shot him a scowl. "I'm surviving," he replied, and Sapnap laughed as he turned his attention back to the path.

Ant nudged him again. “See?” he teased. “Enjoyable.”

 


 

Despite his complaining, George swiftly found a new appreciation for filming an outdoor video. For one, it was kind of exciting being somewhere where they could scream and bicker as loudly as they wanted, and nobody would ever hear it. And for two…well, he got to see Sapnap putting all of his outdoor knowledge to use.

“George!” he cried at one point, and George froze where he was, crouched by a berry bush with his camera. “Don’t touch those!”

“Why?” George couldn't help but chuckle as he glanced up at Sapnap, who was striding towards him. “What’s wrong with them?”

"They're poisonous," Sapnap replied, reaching him and gently pulling him away from the bush. “You can't just go around touching things without knowing if they're safe. Do you have a death wish or something?”

George laughed again. “I wasn’t going to eat them,” he said, pointing the camera in his face. “I was POV-ing. Like, POV: you’re me, a wild hunter-gatherer.”

Sapnap rolled his eyes, but George could see the amusement taking over his brief panic. “You're ridiculous,” he said with a shake of his head. “Stick to porkchops.”

Before George could figure out some sort of dirty joke about that, he heard stampeding feet through the dense underbrush. They both froze.

“RUN!” Ant bellowed. “He’s coming! He’s got a diamond axe!” They’d hidden some Minecraft tools around the trees so that they could be ‘crafted’, because Bad, the spoilsport, had been pretty insistent on not using real weapons like George had initially suggested.

Without wasting another second, he and Sapnap turned and sprinted through the forest, even as the sound of Dream's approaching footsteps grew louder. George could hear Sapnap's heavy breaths beside him, and he knew that the other was a much faster runner, but he kept pace with George even as branches whipped at their faces, and roots threatened to trip them up.

As they weaved through the trees and shrubs, George caught glimpses of the others ahead, all scattered in different directions, each trying to outrun Dream. If he got them, they’d be ‘dead’ and have to walk all the way back to ‘spawn’, which was a tree they’d pinned a bright orange flag on. George had already had to do it twice, and he was not looking forward to a repeat. Last time, he would’ve wandered off in the completely wrong direction if Red hadn’t stopped him.

Suddenly, Sapnap veered to the left. “This way, quickly!” he panted, and George followed without hesitation. They ducked under low-hanging branches and leapt over fallen logs, all the while trying to put as much distance between them and Dream as possible. He was certainly not as skilled IRL as he was in-game, but something about having a 6’2 guy charging at them full force was enough to have George’s adrenaline spiking regardless.

After what felt like an eternity, they reached a fallen log, and Sapnap skidded to a halt. "Wait," he gasped, bending over to catch his breath. “I think we lost him.”

George's chest heaved as he tried to catch his breath. He could still hear the faint sounds of crunching in the distance, but whoever it was seemed to be heading away from them.

Sapnap glanced around, scanning the area for any sign of Dream. “I think we're safe for now," he said between breaths, his hazel eyes locking with George's. "We should wait here and regroup with the others."

George nodded, leaning against a nearby tree trunk to steady himself. "Yeah," he replied, wiping sweat from his brow. Only then did he realise he was still holding the camera. Sure, the chest harness Sapnap had on would’ve gotten everything, but it couldn’t go as up close. George held it aloft to keep them both in the frame. “Guys, that was so scary! Dream’s, like, so fast.”

“Not as fast as me,” Sapnap grumbled, kicking the dirt. “I could’ve left you behind if I wanted to.”

George chuckled, his breath still laboured. He didn’t think he’d run that hard in years. “But you didn’t. Wittle Sappy is so heroic. You just wanted to keep me safe from big bad Dweam.”

"You wish.” Sapnap grinned, wrapping an arm around George's shoulders and pulling him close. “Besides,” he said, his tone turning sincere. “I couldn’t let Dream have you.”

George leaned into the familiar embrace, letting his eyes flutter shut. "I know.” He glanced at the vlog camera still strapped to Sapnap’s chest. “You better edit this bit out.”

Sapnap chuckled softly, the sound vibrating against George's ear as he nuzzled into his hair. “Don't worry,” he whispered, his breath warm. “I want you all to myself, baby.”

And that was so simultaneously cute and cringe-worthy that George had to pull back to cover his face. “Ugh,” he groaned. “Stop.”

Sapnap only laughed, his eyes shining with affection as he watched George's adorable embarrassment. “Come on, you love it,” he teased, pulling George back into his arms for final quick hug. “Now, come on. Let’s go find Ant and Bad.”

Reluctantly, George stepped away and cleared his throat. “Okay,” he said, looking around at the identical trees. “Which way are they again?”

“We should split up. I’ll circle ‘round, and you head straight for where we left them — right by spawn.” He pointed. “That way.”

Privately, George thought it all looked completely the same, but he’d take Sapnap’s word for it. “Alright.” To the camera, he said, “Guys, we’re running again.”

“But this time,” Sapnap leaned in, “we’re the predator —”

George's laughter cut him off. “This time, Clay is the prey.”

Sapnap shook his head with a fond smile. “Yes, George, Dream’s the prey.” He settled a determined frown on his face, and George wondered if it would be pushing the video rating to kiss him up against a tree. Probably. “Now, let’s go.”

With a final shared glance, they set out into the trees.

Leaves and branches crunched underfoot, and the humid air was still thick with mosquitos. Thankfully, Dream’s bug spray had done wonders, and besides a few dirt stains on his black cargos — he had not been able to wear jeans while running through a literal forest — and the sweat at his hairline, George was still pretty put together.

He walked for about ten minutes, then stopped to listen. He couldn’t hear anything besides his own breathing, the rustle of the wind through the trees, and bugs chirping. He was pretty sure he was heading the right way, but the dense foliage and the lack of any distinct landmarks made it difficult to be 100% positive…

He continued walking, pushing aside branches and stepping carefully over fallen logs. The forest seemed eerily quiet, and George couldn't shake the feeling that he was being watched. He glanced around nervously, half-expecting to see Dream lurking behind a tree with his diamond axe.

“Guys,” he told the camera, “this is pretty scawy.” The shadows seemed to grow darker, and the once-welcoming trees now felt like looming giants surrounding him. “Okay, I just need to find the others using my incredible gamer instincts,” he said, mostly to reassure himself, but also for that Good Content. “They can't be too far away, and I mean…how hard can it be to find a big orange flag in a forest?”

 


 

At first, panic rose in him like a slow-burning fire, but by the time the sun began to set, it had well and truly set in. He’d tried to retrace his steps at first, but the more he walked, the deeper he seemed to get into the forest, and anything that could be considered familiar was shadowed by the fading light. He hadn’t heard a single peep from any direction — no screams, no shouts of his name… nothing. It was as if the trees had swallowed him whole.

He glanced at the camera and took a deep breath before addressing it. “So, it seems like I might be hypothetically lost. Not exactly the situation I wanted to find myself in, but hey, that's what makes for interesting content, right?” He tried to maintain a playful tone, but he was sure his nervousness was evident.

His feet hurt so bad he could barely feel them, and at one point, he fell over and couldn’t remember which direction he’d just come from when he stood up.

“I wish I had my phone.” It had looked bulky in his pockets, and he’d been worried about losing it, so Bad had offered to keep it in the weird anti-theft chest bad he’d worn. “Or water.” He hadn’t drunk anything since they took that snack break earlier on.

Wait. Snack break!

George shrugged his backpack off and unzipped it. It was so light he’d forgotten he was wearing it in the first place, but maybe there was a bottle of water inside, or a protein bar, or even a torch…

But alas, inside, he found only a couple of old receipts, a Minecraft sword, and —

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” George said, pulling the toy out to stare at it. “Skeppy?”

The stuffed Skeppy smiled placidly up at him, and George considered lobbing him into the trees. He looked at the camera and felt the judgement of Future-Bad when they inevitably found his dead body, and he was forced to watch his poor wittle Skeppy be so callously discarded.

He put Toy Skeppy back in the bag and shrugged it back onto his shoulders, newly determined. He had no food, no water, no light, and no fucking idea where he was. The camera only provided the tiniest amount of light possible.

“Alright,” George said. He stood up to assess his surroundings. It was now so dark he could barely see his own hand in front of his face. “Guys, we’re POV-ing again. This time, it’s Minecraft Survival in Real Life.”

He tried to remember any of his school geography lessons, but most of the time, George had been too busy daydreaming to pay attention, and that had been about ten years ago anyway. The only thing popping into his head was the cautionary tales about eating things he didn’t 100% know were safe, which was what Sapnap had said too.

So, as George worked his way through the trees, damp leaves catching under his shoes like wet algae, he couldn’t stop his eyes from darting between the tall shadowed pines stretching up like masts into the sky, straining to see any hint of the night sky above. He was hungry and cold, and his whole body ached, but there would be no bed waiting for him tonight. In fact, George had no clue where he would be sleeping, or if he even would at all. It didn’t seem like a particularly safe idea — were there bears in Texas? He couldn’t remember Sapnap saying anything about them, but what if he just didn’t know? What if George woke up and a bear was eating him? Or a pack of rabid wolves? He doubted that would abide by Youtube's community guidelines.

The sounds of the forest had taken on an eerie quality in the darkness, and every rustle of leaves and distant hoot of an owl made him jump, so he took Toy Skeppy out of his bag and clutched him to his chest. He didn’t want to die holding it or anything, but having some company — even if it was Bad’s questionable pseudo-boyfriend — was worth that risk.

George was breathing so loudly he had no air to release when his shoe caught on a tree root, and he smacked face-first right into the hard-packed dirt. He could only gasp, curling up into a little ball as the spindly trees seemed to loom overhead, the world closing in until it was so tight he thought he might pop.

Humiliating tears welled up in George's eyes as he lay there, clutching Toy Skeppy tighter. He’d walked so much, and his face hurt and his feet hurt and his arm hurt, and everything hurt all over, and it wasn’t fair — George wanted to be with his friends back at the hotel! He’d never wanted to be somewhere more, not even when he was stuck in London. God, he even wanted to meet Sapnap’s mum at this point, eat her stupid pecan pie or whatever, just —

The camera had landed right in front of his face. George stared. They’d probably find it when they found him cold and rotted, and like Bad seeing Skeppy being mistreated, he definitely didn’t want Sapnap’s last glimpse of him to be as a pathetic mess crying in the dirt.

He got to his feet. It was so dark he could barely see, but he still managed to shuffle his way over the leafy ground to find a tree that felt sturdy enough to climb.

Standing on his tiptoes, George found the lowest branch and scrambled up, sticking to the stronger limb close to the trunk until he found a sturdy fork to sit in. It was uncomfy and cold, and he couldn’t stop straining his eyes into the darkness like Sapnap and Dream would miraculously materialise to rescue him, but it would do.

“I’m in a tree,” he told the camera. The little battery light said it was down to 40% now. “They must’ve called the police by this point, but I haven’t heard anything. Usually, they send helicopters, don’t they? To look with, like…heat sensors or something.”

George shivered, curling up tighter around himself as he squeezed his eyes shut, wishing that he was back home, curled up in their bed, his belly full of food and Sapnap beside him where he belonged.

 


 

George woke when the sun began to peak over the horizon. Even through the canopy, it seemed overly bright, and the forest had bloomed from murky blacks and greys to vibrant greens and browns, the air crisp and dewy. High above his head, he could hear birdsong.

Honestly, he couldn't believe he had actually made it through the night. He turned the camera on to share his surprise. "Well, it's morning now, and I haven’t been eaten by bears yet.” He panned down to the ground from his perch. He’d gotten a lot higher than he thought he had in the dark. “I wish I had an Elytra, though.”

It couldn’t have been more than twelve or so hours, but he knew he was dehydrating fast because his lips remained dry no matter how many times he licked them. He stretched, only to whimper as he was swiftly reminded of his aching body.

In the daylight, George could see the grazes on his hands from where he’d fallen, and when he finally worked up the nerve to examine his feet, he found that they were even worse than he’d expected. Blood had crusted in between his toes and around the blisters that had formed.

Deliriously, he showed them to the camera. “I’m going to milk this so hard. When they find me —” ‘when’, not ‘if’, “— I’m going to make Sapnap carry me around like a princess.” Despite his unserious tone, tears began to well up in his eyes again. He didn’t know what to do. He’d hurt himself a few times since coming to Florida, a sprained wrist from roughhousing or — or grazed knees from trying to be cool on a skateboard, but Sapnap had always been there to bandage them up, to kiss them better.

When he shifted, something fell from beside him to the leaves below. A tiny, blue thing. “Oh, shit, Skeppy!” George carefully climbed down, but the pain that shot through his body when he bore his weight on his blistered feet was hard to describe. It was stinging and sharp, enough that he was forced to catch his balance on the very tree he’d just climbed out of. A reluctant tear drizzled down his cheek.

After regaining his composure, he picked Skeppy up and stuck him in the pocket of his cargos. Surprisingly, he hadn’t been that cold in his sleep, but maybe that was from the shock or something, because now the early morning breeze had him pulling his jacket tighter around himself. Fuck, was he glad that, during the planning stages, Ant had insisted that wearing just a t-shirt like his Minecraft skin was a bad idea.

“Should I keep walking?” he asked both Skeppy and the camera, but of course, he got no response. “Oh, Skeppy, if only you were really here. You’d probably film a video or something…” He laughed, and it echoed through the trees. “‘I Trapped 1000 Kids in a Forest with GeorgeNotFound’.”

After a brief intermission to piss — which came out concerningly orange from the lack of water — he set off in the direction he thought he’d been heading the night before. He was, like, 60% sure. Honestly, even though it was light out, it all still looked the same. Trees, trees, and, you guessed it, more trees.

He walked for what felt like hours but had probably only been twenty minutes or so. His feet grew more painful with every step. His vision swam in and out of focus, and his head was throbbing. That was why it was such a shock when he crested a leafy little hill, the tree line broke, and he could hear the heavenly sound of trickling water. His first thought was that he was hallucinating.

“Thank you, Skeppy!”

George clambered inelegantly over a large boulder, the pain in his body forgotten at the adrenaline coursing through his system. Almost immediately after starting to climb, however, his fingers met slimy algae instead of rough stone, and he tumbled forward. His stomach flipped up into his mouth.

He hit the ground, water splashing up in one great wave around him, soaking straight through his clothes and hair. His arse hurt something terrible at the landing, but George couldn’t bring himself to care about that, because he was now waist-deep in a small stream, the water flowing freely over his legs and soothing his blistered feet through his soaked shoes and socks.

He brought his cupped hands up, taking short sips of the cool water even though his throat burned for him to just drink and drink until he couldn’t anymore. Still, George was pretty sure that drinking too fast could make him ill, and the last thing he needed was to get sick.

The camera — thank god it was waterproof — earned its place propped up on a rock when he climbed out. Skeppy, unfortunately, was rather drenched.

“Bet Bad would love that.”

He knelt on the pebbles to sip some more water and splash a little on his dry face. Dream would probably be panicking about missing a step in his skincare routine, but George couldn’t find it in himself to care — Sapnap would probably forgive him for a little acne if he got found.

When, he corrected himself. When he got found.

Trying not to think about that, George carefully removed his shoes and socks, allowing his blistered feet to soak in the cool water. It felt heavenly, and he couldn't help but let out a contented sigh. The pain was still there, of course, but the soothing sensation of the water made it much more bearable.

As he drank, he glanced around, taking in his surroundings. The stream ran through a small clearing in the forest, and sunlight filtered through the trees, dappling the ground with golden rays. It was a serene and picturesque scene, but there was still nothing familiar, and no sign that anyone had been in the area recently either. At least, if he found one of the Minecraft props they’d hidden, he’d know he was getting close to ‘spawn’.

Once he’d taken some time to rest and recuperate, George decided it was best to continue following the stream. Maybe it would lead him to a nearby road or something. A crazy guy who lived in the woods would probably be better than just dying of starvation.

The water gurgled and babbled as it flowed over smooth rocks, and George found the sound strangely comforting. He watched small fish darting through the clear water, and even caught a couple of deer on camera before they darted back into the trees.

“I’m never letting Dream and Sapnap convince me into doing anything again,” he complained. “I knew this was a bad idea.” He held Skeppy up to the camera. “Besides, Bad’s probably having trouble sleeping without his little angel.” He put on a nasally BadBoyHalo-ish voice. “Oh, my goodness, Skeppy! Where the muffin have you been?”

But the smile slipped right off his face when he thought about another, more important reunion. Had Sapnap cried when he realised George was gone? He fucking hoped not. George hated it when people cried, especially Sapnap. The idea that he had stayed up all night worrying, maybe thinking that George was dead…

He cleared his throat. “Sapnap better treat me like a king after this. Carry me around, rub my feet, bring me sushi.” He smiled. “Make me smoothies and let me watch whateeeever I want in the home theatre. Oh, and I get to be little spoon. Surpnurp likes to be little because he can go on his phone while I’m asleep, but obviously, I deserve it more because I’m getting us so many views.” He frowned. “This is definitely going on my channel. Dream can have his ‘Minecraft in Real Life’ video if I get the ‘I Got Lost in the Woods Overnight’ vlog. I’ll get, like, twenty million views. More than the meet-up!”

Despite his words, he couldn't help but feel guilty for causing his friends to worry, and the thought of Sapnap frantically searching for him scratched at his cold little heart.

“I guess we won’t fly home right away,” he continued slowly. “I’m not hurt or anything, but Dream is such a worrywart. He’ll want to stay a few days. And Sapnap wanted me to meet his family. His mum, especially.” Eat her homemade food, impress her, smell like their laundry powder — meet his childhood friends, visit his favourite BBQ place, the childhood bedroom where Sapnap realised he was in love.

After that, he didn’t feel much like talking. He kept the camera ready, filmed a few clips of himself walking just to fill the time, but mostly just studied the landscape. It was this careful observation that allowed him to pick up the sound of a vehicle very faint in the distance. Vehicles meant roads, yes, but more importantly, they meant people.

George broke into a run. He was usually far from the most physically fit person, but the hope of being rescued and reunited with his friends gave him a newfound burst of energy. He ran as fast as his aching legs and feet would allow, pushing through the last remnants of the forest until he reached the edge of a small dirt road.

His heart pounded in his chest as he looked both ways, trying to spot the source of the distant engine noise. Moments later, a small pickup truck came into view, and George couldn't help but feel a sense of relief wash over him. He waved his arms frantically, though that was hardly necessary because he was the only thing other than trees in sight.

The truck slowed down as it approached, and the driver's window roll down a smidge. A man with a bushy beard and baseball cap peered out at him suspiciously, but George had never been happier to see some random old guy.

“You need something?”

George laughed. “I got lost in the forest last night,” he explained. For some reason, he’d expected to be recognised, though of course, now he knew that was pretty ridiculous. “My friends and I were —”

“What’s that?” His voice was gruff. “Some sort of doll?”

For a wild moment, George was sure he’d somehow stumbled across the local creepy forest man, and he thought just my luck, but then realised he was still holding the wet stuffed toy Skeppy, and the vlog camera. His eyes were likely bloodshot and ringed with dark circles too.

Honestly, this guy probably thought George was the crazy one.

“It’s — it doesn’t matter. Have you been in town? Seen — seen police or something? Heard about a missing person?”

The man's gruff expression softened slightly. "Missing person, huh? Yeah, I might’ve heard something about that. Some — some kind of famous kid, yeah?”

George nodded eagerly. "Yes, that's me! I’m — I’m a YouTuber. We were filming a video, and I...well, I guess I got lost.” It was embarrassing to admit to a guy who looked like he spent all his time outdoors, hunting with various miscellaneous guns and knives. “Do you think you could give me a lift back to town? Please?”

The man studied George for a moment, then let out a hearty chuckle. “Well, I can't say I understand all that internet stuff, but I've heard my grandkids talking about it. Hop in, I'll give you a ride.”

George's relief was palpable as he climbed into the truck. Skeppy sat where he deserved — in his lap. "My friends have probably been going crazy trying to find me.”

“Getting lost in the woods can happen to anyone, I reckon. You’re lucky I was driving through or they might’ve never found you.”

And that was funny in a sort of horrifying, retrospective way, so George laughed. He sounded hysterical even to his own ears. “Very lucky,” he said, watching the trees rush past out the window. “Where are we?”

“Only about thirty minutes out. I was heading home when I saw you.”

Thirty minutes. It had taken them about an hour to drive the day before. Had he really walked that far? 

“No wonder my feet are killing me.” He looked at the guy and realised he hadn’t asked his name. “I’m George, by the way.”

“Mick.” He was offered a bushy smile. “You look beat, kid. Why don’t you get some shut-eye?”

George thought that maybe sleeping in the car of some random guy who’d found him in the forest was not a great idea, but his eyes were so tired and his whole body hurt so much, that he gladly let sleep wash over him anyway. In a matter of seconds, he was out.

 


 

He opened his eyes. He was lying on something soft. A tinkling bell was ringing. His face was numb. A face swam into focus above him, haloed by a bright white glow. It was a lady he’d never seen before. She was beautiful.

“— hear me?” Her mouth continued to move.

Sound washed in and out of focus. He shook his head.

“Can — hear me?”

“What?”

All sound suddenly rushed back in. Beeping, yelling, clattering, talking — it was horrible. His head hurt.

“Sir, can you hear me?”

He tried to nod, but his head felt heavy and uncooperative. “Mm,” he managed to gurgle out, his tongue fighting him the whole time.

“Hello, sir,” the woman said, her tone soothing. “I’m Dr Patel. Do you know where you are?”

He looked around the sea of white instrumental in the room. “Hosp’tal?”

“That’s right. You might remember — an ambulance brought you in a couple of hours ago. You’re in Osceola Regional Medical Center.”

“Oh.” He wasn’t sure what else to say.

She placed a hand on his shoulder. “Sir, can you tell me your name?”

He did.

“Okay, George,” she said. Her dark eyes were big and kind, and made him feel sleepy. “Do you remember what happened?”

Did he remember? He closed his eyes. He could see thick green trees — feel water on his arms and legs. Smell plants. “I got lost. In the woods?”

"Yes, that's right," Dr Patel confirmed gently. "You got lost in the woods, but you're safe now. You were brought here by a gentleman who found you wandering out of the trees. Do you remember that?”

He did. Sort of. His heart still hurt quite a bit. “Is Sapnap here?” He tried to sit up, but she guided him back down again. “Dream? Are they here?”

“I can find out for you,” she said, “but please, George, you need to stay still.”

“They — they won’t be Dream and Sapnap,” he remembered foggily. “Clay. Clay and Nick.”

“Okay, I’m going to find out for you,” she insisted, “but your body needs time to heal. You need to rest. You’ve been through quite an ordeal.”

To heal? Heal from what? George fumbled an uncooperative hand up to his arm and felt some sort of device going into the skin.

“That’s an IV,” Dr Patel explained. “You were very low on nutrients and dehydrated. We’re giving you fluids to help you feel better.”

George nodded, trying to process everything. “What about my friends?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. He’d never wanted to see their stupid faces more — to be wrapped up in Sapnap’s arms, to have Dream fuss over him, to hear Bad’s nagging and Ant’s careful soothing, and Red’s attempts to cheer him up.

“I’m going to find out for you, I promise.”

She asked him a few more questions about his health and how he was feeling. George tried his best to answer, though his mind still felt a bit foggy. He felt weak and sore, and his head was pounding. Dr Patel assured him that it was normal to feel that way after such an ordeal.

After some time, the police came to visit him in the hospital room. They introduced themselves as Officer Johnson and Officer Ramirez.

"Hello, George," Officer Johnson said warmly. "We're relieved to see that you're doing better. We've been looking for you since your friends reported you missing."

"Yes, there’s been quite a stir,” Officer Ramirez added. “Your friends have been doing everything they can to find you.”

“They have?”

Officer Johnson nodded. “We couldn’t keep them away.”

"I... I didn't mean to worry them," George said, and against his will, his voice trembled. It was pathetic, and usually he hated crying, especially in front of strangers, but his body was so heavy, and his head was still stuffy.

"It's okay," Officer Johnson said, patting his arm reassuringly. "Sometimes things happen beyond our control, eh? The important thing is that you're safe now."

"We'll need to ask you a few questions about what happened," Officer Ramirez said gently. "Just to dot all our ’i’s and cross all our ’t’s.”

George nodded reluctantly, and they peppered him with questions about the events leading up to him getting lost in the woods — the filming, the unintentional separation from his friends, and the embarrassing night he’d spent in the tree. When they were done, Officer Ramirez had George sign some sort of document to confirm that he was who he said he was, and then let Dr Patel back in.

“Hello, George,” she said with a smile. “I have some people here to see you.”

Johnson and Ramirez excused themselves with parting nods, and George sat up a little more in the hospital bed. It was at that moment that the door to his hospital room burst open. Sapnap stood there, his eyes red-rimmed and his face a mix of relief, anger, and concern. He was wearing the same clothes as yesterday, but his t-shirt was more grey than white, and there were twigs in his hair and sweaty dirt smeared on his pallid face.

"George!" he cried, rushing to his side. "Oh my god, you scared the living shit out of me! Do you even know how worried I was?"

George swallowed hard, tears immediately springing to his eyes. "Sapnap," he managed to say, his voice breaking. “You’re here.” It was all he could think about. Sapnap was here. He was here.

Sapnap wrapped him up in familiar arms, and George recognised his smell immediately, even hidden under a layer of soil and sweat as it was. He closed his eyes. “I was so scared.”

"It's okay, baby,” he whispered. “I got ya’.”

George clung to Sapnap, burying his face in the crook of his neck. "I love you," he mumbled, the words slipping out before he could even think. Usually, they were hard to think and even harder to speak, but this time felt as easy as breathing. “Sapnap.”

Sapnap's arms tightened around him, and he kissed the top of George's head. "I love you too, you fucking idiot," he whispered back. "But don't you dare ever scare me like that again, okay?”

“I won’t.” George looked around the room. “Dream?”

“The cops are giving him your stuff,” Sapnap explained, perching on the edge of the bed as close as humanly possible. “Something about a camera?”

“A camera,” George repeated. Then it came flooding back. “I recorded stuff! A video. I want to post it on my channel.” He grinned. “Minecraft Survival in Real Life.”

A long silence. Sapnap stared into his eyes like he couldn’t believe George was real. Then he began to laugh. “A vlog? That’s what you’re worried about!? I thought you were dead —” He stopped, choked up.

George's heart twisted violently in his chest. He reached out and gently cupped Sapnap's cheek, wiping away a stray tear with his thumb. "I never meant to worry you like that, love.”

Sapnap's hand covered George's, holding it against his cheek. "I know you didn't, but you have to understand how fucking scared I was. We all were." He took a deep, shuddery breath. "When we realised you were missing, we searched everywhere. Clay just thought you’d gotten lost, but I couldn’t stop imagining you hurt or — or scared — Fuck. It was the worst feeling in the world.”

His eyes burned with tears as he vowed never to put Sapnap through something like this again. “I didn’t do it on purpose.” His voice was small. “Are you mad at me?”

Sapnap's expression softened. “Never,” he whispered. "You're safe, and that's all that matters… I don't know what I would've done if I had lost you.” As Sapnap pulled him into another tight hug, George clung to him, never wanting to let go. At that moment, all the worry, fear, and pain of the past hours seemed to melt away in the warmth of that embrace. They were together again, and that was surely all that mattered.

Then another, more pressing, thought occurred to him. “Wait. Where’s Skeppy?”

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