Silence || Dreamnotfound Omegaverse

Chapter Ten: The Drive

George POV 

The car ride has been dead quiet since we left Clay's house. Granted, it has only been a couple of minutes and I'm not sure what I was expecting from him, but it's not exactly peaceful, to say the least.

 I steal a glance every once and a while, trying to get a read on him, which has been incredibly difficult for me to do now that I can't hear the fluctuations in his voice. 

Both of Clay's hands are gripping the steering wheel tightly, his knuckles almost turning white. His jaw is clenched and he keeps moving his lips to the side, probably because he can't fidget with his fingers. His eyes are locked on the road but I can see that he's not focusing on driving, he's somewhere else deep in his mind. 

Guilt starts to fester once again, gripping tightly around my heart. Maybe he wouldn't be so upset if I had just done something, anything. 

Maybe I should turn on the radio? Would that alleviate some of the tension in the car? It might distract him from whatever is going on inside his head. 

I glance back over at Clay, still stiff and trying to hide the distressed look on his face. He's trying to hide it– for me. 

Ok. No more running from this. He needs to know that someone is there for him, even if he doesn't want to admit he needs it. He needs to know that I'm here. 

I look out the front windshield, bracing myself for whatever is going to come from this decision. My heart pounds against my rib cage. Confrontation has never been my favorite thing. 

"Clay... I know there is something bothering you," I start. He turns his head at the sudden noise in the otherwise silent car, before returning his gaze to the road. I look back at him and catch him taking a forced swallow. Shit, is this making it worse? 

He readjusts his grip on the steering wheel, still holding with enough force to break my hand. I take in a deep breath before continuing. 

"Do you want to talk–" I get cut off by Clay shaking his head frantically. 

"I know it was a nightmare Clay," I say, still keeping my eyes fixed on him. He quickly glances at me, eyes wide, obviously a little shocked that I am aware of one of his biggest secrets. He takes a hand from the steering wheel and signs how? 

"It woke me up. We were– uh– close this morning, and you started to squeeze... me," I answer. Every ounce of confidence leaving my body as I attempt to explain this. I thought Helen had already done enough explaining for him to get the picture. 

I take a gulp before continuing to dig my grave. "Your mum said that you told her the nightmares stopped," he looks over, panic is strewn across his face, I quickly raise my hands and readjust so I am facing him more. "I'm not going to say anything to her, but I don't think that this is healthy, like at all," I take another pause. 

Clay's breathing isn't exactly calm, definitely more panicked since we started this conversation. Maybe this wasn't the best thing to do while he was driving. 

In a not-so-similar–but still similar–  scenario when we were younger, Clay really wanted to change his English class to be more advanced. His teacher insisted that he wasn't at that level. He didn't want to speak up to the teacher about the class change and was just going to accept his academic level. 

However, both Nick and I knew he was extremely passionate about writing and we had to practically yell at him in order for him to change his mind and actually talk to the teacher about it.

It's the same thing– kind of. A bit more of a serious situation than a mere class change, but his attitude is still the same. So why would he respond to the same treatment differently? 

 He just needs a little pressure to break the scenario he's made up in his mind. This is what he needs

I know this is the exact opposite of what Helen said to do, but in all fairness, I know Clay better than she does. He was completely unfiltered around me, said whatever was on his mind the moment it popped into his head. Around his mother, he was more subdued, not so chaotic– fake, to put it lightly. He always watched what he said and how he acted, even back then. 

I'm aware that Clay is a lot different since I came back, but he is still himself, somewhere in there. 

 I just need to crack that unyielding mask of his. 

"I'm not asking you to tell me what happened, I want you to do that on your own time, but I need you to know that I'm here for you, for whatever," I take another pause. My eyes are starting to water. Fucking omega urges. 

"I also need you to know it is really hard for me, to just come back and you are suddenly– this!" I gesture my hand towards him. "It's hard for me to accept the fact that this is who you are now because it's so just... not you. And I'm trying, I'm really trying to get over that– hell– I'm learning sign language for you!" I say, my voice getting a little louder. Clay winces slightly at the raised volume bouncing around the small car walls. 

"I just... I don't want to be like everyone else who just let you slip away," I continue, my voice starting to shake. "I just want to help you, and the thing that bothers me the most is that I don't know how. I have no fucking clue how to get you back," I say, my voice breaks at the end, as a single tear runs down my cheek. I quickly wipe it away. 

I don't continue my monologue, my faith in my voice wavering greatly. Clay obviously doesn't say anything, but I do notice he is taking more glances at me. His grip on the wheel is as tight as before. 

The rest of the car ride is filled with silent tension. My body is facing the car door as I gaze out the window, watching the trees fly past in a blur. I feel the car start to slow, I turn and see that we are in fact outside my house, now pulling into my driveway. 

I clear my throat as I reach for my bag, trying to escape the dreadful tightness that surrounds us. I hear the car being put in park and I reach for the door handle, my hand pulling it enough to unlock the door before I turn around to face Clay. 

His eyes are red and glossy, his hair is still a little damp from the shower but is a mess from his combing his hands through it. Another one of his habits when he's stressed. He is also chewing on his bottom lip, enough to the point where it is dangerously close to bleeding. 

We stare at each other for a moment before he breaks eye contact, staring at his lap, and signs I'm sorry. 

"You have nothing to be sorry for– it's me. It's all me. If anything I should be apologizing for dumping all of that on you after you already had a stressful morning," I sigh before giving my parting words. "Please just think about opening up to someone. Trust me when I say it's not good to hold so much on one pair of shoulders. Let someone help you carry whatever is weighing you down because there are plenty of people who will do it– Nick, your mom, me." 

ok 

A simple answer, probably because he knows I wouldn't have understood anything else he may have said instead. 

I nod before exiting the car. I walk to where I was safely in front before turning and waving, in case I happened to trip and completely embarrass myself. Clay gives a small wave before he turns around and begins to back out of my driveway. 

I take the house key from my bag as I near the door, turning one final time to see Clay's car driving down the street. I let out a sigh before turning back to the door, and walking into my house. 

Even if it is the smallest amount, I think we are making progress. 

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1427 words 

YOOO 650 reads?! absolutely insane tysm!! <3

another chapter published at the ungodliest of hours lets go

gotta be honest idk when the next chapter is gonna be cuz I'm trying to write my senior paper and i got 1 out of 10 pages done so... yeah

once again asking for some sexy comments and votes - those rly make my day :]

blame grammarly if anything is wrong I can't be bothered to mega proofread this 

alright i need to go to bed now

bye ily <3