Manburg Underground

Forgotten Memories

TW: abuse

Clay smiled up at Phil, holding his head high and he crossed his arms across his chest. "I did it, now can I please have some ice cream, Uncle?" He begged and climbed up to the counter, sitting on a bar stool. "Please!" He cried again.

Phil crossed his arms and cocked his head to the side, eyes serious, but his mouth turned up into a smile. He ran his fingers through his blonde hair and opened the door to the freezer as Clay smiled over to him, awaiting his treat. Clay winced as he hit a brain freeze, but continued to shovel spoonfuls of vanilla ice cream into his mouth, ignoring the pain.

"Clay," Phil warned. "What would your father say?"

"Your father," said a gruff voice from behind Clay, "would say that Uncle Phil didn't give you enough ice cream."

"Dad!" Clay turned around and smiled widely at his father. He flung his arms around his neck and pulled him into a hug, glad to see him home. "Are you staying for Christmas?" He asked, his small voice edging with excitement.

Schlatt rubbed his beard and looked over at Phil. "Clay," he said, "you know I would love to but-"

"Work takes up too much time?" Clay finished, looking down at his melting ice cream. He'd suddenly lost his appetite. Clay watched as the ice cream slowly melted, while his father shook Phil's hand and took an apple out of the fridge.

They then both left to room to Phil's study to have a private conversation. Clay followed, sliding to his knees at the door so they wouldn't hear him.

Phil started first. "How many more?" He asked, his voice quiet.

"Well, we have five more men-"

"No." Phil interrupted and his voice grew a little louder. "How many more years is this boy going to grow up without a father? How many more Christmases and Halloweens and birthdays are you going to miss before Clay is eighteen and living on his own?" His voice was progressively getting louder every syllable.

Schlatt spoke again. "You know why I do this."

"Please, enlighten me."

Clay didn't know what that word meant, so he pushed himself closer to the door, trying his best to make out the conversation.

"I make the money in this family. I am the one carrying out dad's legacy. I am the one making sure that this house is safe and doesn't get gunned down by Manburgians. You know this, Phil." Schlatt was yelling now, but Clay wasn't listening.

"You and your mafia 'brothers' are doing nothing for this family-"

Had his father really said "gunned down"? And what were "Manburgians"? What was a "mafia brother"? Racking his brain for answers, Clay stood up, but as he did so his shirt got caught on the door handle, causing it to jolt. Silence cut through the house.

He pulled his shirt free, but the door flew open and he was greeted by an angry figure. "How much?" His father demanded, voice still loud. "How much of that did you hear?"

"N-nothing I swear!" Clay lied, but his father smacked him, knowing he wasn't telling the truth. Clay was taken aback. His father had never hit him before.

Phil was in the doorway now, pushing past his brother and moving to shield Clay. "Never do that again."

"Or what?" Shlatt yelled. "He's my son! You don't have any right to say what I do or don't do to him!"

Clay felt tears streaking down his face and he felt lightheaded. His cheek was on fire, burning in pain and anger. Schlatt shoved Phil out of his path and grabbed Clay by the wrist.

—

Years past after that turning point in Clay's relationship with his father, but the wound never seemed to heal. "We are splitting from Pogtopia." Schlatt said, addressing his son. "You just turned twelve, so I've decided to take you with me when we join Manburg." His voice was low and demanding and Clay knew that he wouldn't be given a choice. He wanted more than anything to stay in that place that was most familiar to him even if Manburg was only a hour away.

He would miss seeing his uncle, knowing that he likely would never cross paths with him again. There was no way that Phil was going to leave Pogtopia and he likely was the cause of Clay's father's doing so. Pain welled in his gut as he and his father made their way to Manburg.

They were greeted kindly by the people there who had just lost their leader and immediately took Schlatt as their new role model. Everything in Manburg was different than Pogtopia. They relied on guns and weapons instead of knowledge and peace like the Pogtopians did. Clay's first test to prove his loyalty to his father was plain murder, but he had to do it. If he didn't, his father would likely kill him.

Their entire relationship had changed. Clay was now an employee for a boss; a soldier for a admiral. Nothing was fair or secure about his life, but he often found himself worshipping his father, loyal to his family name.

He knew the cost of what he had become, but then he realized the importance. His importance was only because of George.

~~~

George.

He was a loud streamer from a normal and quiet life, but his lineage made him important. George knew nothing of his life, but Clay had found that missing key. He had reread the notes that he cast aside as unimportant and suddenly it clicked.

Protect George.

Protect the Queen.

Protect the royal line.

Hmmmmmmmmmmm...

(Editor Jack is doing okay by the way guys. I've gotten a couple of messages asking. He's doing great, he's just taking a mental health break <3)