Tainted Perception | Wilbur Soot Angst (ORIGINAL)

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TW: Panic attack (kinda), swearing

A/N: HELLLOOOO EVERYONE!!!!!! THANK YOU ALL SOSOSOSOOSOSOSOSOSOSOSOOSOSOSO MUCH FOR ALL OF THE SUPPORT!!! IT MEANS THE WORLD, SERIOUSLY!!!

 The silence in the car was so loud it was deafening. Although there was no talking, every bump on the road and creak of the metal seemed to echo within Phil's head. Tommy had texted him a couple hours ago, telling him he had told Tubbo, but he couldn't find it within him to respond. He had no idea what he was doing. He didn't even know what he had even agreed to yet. The doctor had told him that all he needed to do was support Will, be there for him. But how the heck was he supposed to do that? What does that even mean? Doctors need to stop speaking in poems and riddles.

Phil's fingers drummed anxiously on the steering wheel, creating a soothing beat. Tap, tap, tap, tap. Tap, tap, tap, tap. One, two, three, four. One, two, three, four. It, will, be, fine. It, will, be, fine. A second rhythm joined in. Tap, tap. Tap, tap. Tap, tap. Tap, tap. One, two. One, two. One, two. One, two. I'm, here. I'm, here. I'm, here. I'm, here. The pair didn't speak, each letting the music testify for them. Each absorbed in their own thoughts, yet somehow together.

-

Wilbur was drowning, he was in the middle of the ocean and there was no shore. He was being dragged to the depths, his mind still at war. People all around him saw, but did nothing. Just going back to whatever they were discussing. They simply laughed at the struggling man. None bothering to lend him even a hand. He screamed and screamed, until his voice went hoarse. Yet they continued to stand watching, with not a smidge of remorse.

With each passing second he was sinking deeper. He was nearing the point of no return. Where he would simply let go, where he would be free. His heart thudded in his ears, each beat settling into a comforting rhythm. Thud, thud, thud, thud. Thud, thud, thud, thud. One, two, three, four. One, two, three, four. I, am, right, here. I, am, right, here. Wilbur slowly got brought back to his senses. He was in Phil's car, the back seat. The road they were on was decorated with cute little hedges, each one trimmed to a delicate precision. The sky was a comforting gray, the clouds blanketing the horizon with soothing calmness. It was like the heavens were in perfect balance. The rain so close to falling, so close to unleashing the water onto the city. But it doesn't. It simply sits on the brink, not dropping, but sitting, sitting suspended in the clouds.

For some this could have been frightening. Anxiously anticipating the raindrops that might or might not come. The puddles that would cause traffic and accidents. The lightning and the thunder that would subsequently follow. But it wasn't for Wilbur. No it was invigorating. It reminded him of the days where Phil would make them all hot chocolate, and the family would sit by the fire, enjoying the heat that encompassed the space. It reminded him of the cold days when he had to trek to the office. When he had to boot up his PC to stream with his friends. He remembered the happy, and the sad. The good, and the bad.

He joined Phil, creating a beat of his own. Tap, tap. Tap, tap. Tap, tap. Tap, tap. Tap, tap. One, two. One, two. One, two. One, two. Thank, you. Thank, you. Thank, you. Thank, you. They continued like that for the rest of the drive. Both of their fingers getting tired, but neither wanting to stop. Neither wanting to ruin this moment. Unfortunately, all good must come to an end eventually. So as the car pulled into the driveway, Wilbur closed his eyes, trying to disperse the pool of dread that was settling in his stomach.

The engine turned off. The air seemed empty without the familiar vibrations of the vehicle. The space now lacking the comforting tap of their hands.

"We're here," Phil says quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.

Will nodded, swallowing thickly, "I know." Neither moved. They both sat there, each frozen for their own reasons, but both equally terrified. So they stayed there, completely enveloped in the awkward silence.

"We- we should probably head inside," the older man suggests softly, chuckling.

"Yeah," Wilbur responded, stifling a laugh of his own. So they both opened their doors, immediately getting buffeted by the wind. The gusts of air would be hard enough to navigate for Philza, but Will could barely stand. So he stood there awkwardly, leaning heavily on the car for support. Fuck.

-

Tommy had texted Phil awhile ago, and was still awaiting a reply. He was expecting a reaction, a scolding, a comforting message, instead, he got nothing. So here he was, his finger hovering over his mouse, about to hit the go live button. He wasn't going to tell the fans, of course. But on the off chance something happened during the stream, he would either have to make up some kind of excuse about leaving, or have to pretend nothing was wrong in the first place.

Neither were good options. Running through the possibilities in his head, he tried in vain to make a decision. Come on, Phil. Answer! He thought, as if he could make the man to respond. It didn't work. He had texted him a couple more times after the original text, but none had been effective. Screw it. He clicked.

Here's the link to the edited oneeeeee (please, I'm begging you) --->