xxiv. dad, you're not okay...

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𝐈𝐓'𝐒 𝐌𝐘 𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐍,chapter twenty-four!━━

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𝐈𝐓'𝐒 𝐌𝐘 𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐍,
chapter twenty-four!
━━

PHIL laid in his bed, too dehydrated to physically cry and too tired to pick up a glass of water. his body ached and so did his heart. he didn't care what happened to him anymore, his house was a complete and utter mess.

his fridge reeked of spoiled food and his sink was piled with dishes. his hair was stiff from how dirty it was and his wings hadn't been used in so long that they felt too heavy for him to pick up.

he was depressed. every day challenging how much more he could take before just giving up. like the universe would secure him then whisper in his ear, "let's see what you can mettle..."

every time it whispered that he found himself wanting to just pick up a bottle and take a swig, he was honestly surprised by the amount of self-control he had not to.

his eyes shut close as he drifted off to sleep, far too exhausted to continue thinking. the doorknob to his front door jiggling and the calls of, "dad!" getting louder by each knock.

the jiggling of the doorknob became more frantic and the knocks and calls for his dad were no longer there, he shoved his body against the door. each time his shoulder came in contact with the wood he let out a groan. "why did you remove the spare key from the pots?" he mumbled to himself as he gave the door one final shove.

it opened and he groaned at the fact that he'll have to repair it. "phil?" he called out, slamming the door behind him and walking around the house. his first stop being the kitchen, the flies around the dishes and roaches wandering around the floor immediately catching him off guard.

"phil?" he spoke louder this time, he sounded upset. he stomped upstairs to his father's room, a frown on his face as he opened the bedroom door. there was clothes scattered across the room and various glasses full of water on his night stand, his bed wasn't made and looked like he hadn't changed the sheets in forever.

it was such a sad sight.

but as phil slept through techno calling out for him all he could "dream" about was his time with wilbur, one memory playing on loop, it was the one he thought about the most...

wilbur was curled into a ball, holding onto his abdomen as he cried for his dad. tommy by his side as he rubbed his back. his throat was so raw from the vomiting and his head was pounding.

he just wanted to feel better, he wanted it to be over. he pushed the hair out of face, his shaky hands making the task slightly harder than usual —— his hair was soaking wet and so were his clothes, he had sweat so much that it scared tommy.

his detoxing was nothing tommy had ever dealt with. he had only ever seen the drunken nights, slurring of words, vomiting and even the nights were he had to take fundy away from will.

phil ran into the room with towels and fundy in his arms, the phone held between his shoulder and ear as he tried to get puffy to take care of fundy.

"give me my son." will cried, vomit on his lips and hands. "you're too loud, will. you're going to wake him." tommy reminded his big brother as he cleaned him up.

tubbo walked into the room and took fundy from his father's arm, the toddler bursting out into tears as tubbo tried to calm him down. "fundy. buddy, let's go pick some flowers outside." he cooed.

"tommy, go hang out with them too." phil softly told his 12 year old son. tommy didn't want to, but it hurt too much to see his big brother this way, so he smiled at will and kissed his forehead before walking out the front door to go pick flowers with his brother and nephew.

phil caressed his sons face as they both cried. the pain was too much for will and he wanted to give up. he cried and yelled, he just wanted a drink, just a drop. "i just want to die!" he sobbed.

"what?" phil gasped, locking eyes with his son, their eyes reflecting similar, yet not the same pain."i'm sorry, dad. i don't want to make you sad, i just... i want it to be over."

phil could tell you a thousand different times of when his heart broke, this one being one of the top ones. his son just wanted to die and he felt sorry about it...

"DAD, PLEASE WAKE UP!" techno shook, he was on the verge of tears. his dad shot up, tears in his eyes and his heart beating rapidly. "techno-" he was cut off by the force of his son's hug. "don't scare me like that!"

to say phil felt special was an understatement ——— the way his son hugged him, he hadn't felt a hug with that much love in years. it felt like when techno was just a little boy again. it made his heart warm and his eyes welled with tears.

he hugged him back, their embrace tighter than ever. neither of them wanted to let go —— even though techno could never put into words how he felt, he was always able to show it through touch.

physical affection was the way he showed his love, the way he'd finally feel heard. "i love you, son." he cried, the sniffling in between his words making this moment feel ten times more real.

"no, stop, you're not going to lose me." techno grabbed his face and looked him in the eyes. "i promise you, you won't lose me."

phil listened to his promise and felt that engrave into his heart, he wouldn't lose another son, he won't let it happen. "please dad, come live with me. you're not doing well, look at the house."

"you don't need to take care of me, tech-" he was cut off. "dad, you're not okay." each time techno said that word, "dad." it made his heart flutter, made his soul happy, made him smile so big. he just wanted to hear it a thousand times more.

what was once the usual had become so uncommon that every time it was ever said it made life feel worth living. the moment felt so surreal. "i'll move in with you." he admitted his defeat.

while he didn't enjoy being home alone, he also didn't want to live in his son's home. not that there was anything wrong with it, he just knew that he wouldn't be able to mope any longer and that he'd have to get better

;

which to him felt unfair to will.

—— he had spent all this time worrying about how will would react to him coping positively that he always made himself miserable to make up for the fact that the blood was on his hands.

a week later, techno helped his dad pack up and move in, cleaning up his old house and locking it up. this was his childhood home, and he couldn't imagine anything bad happening to it, so he was going to do his best to try and prevent that.

they would no longer mourn alone, they'd no longer blame each other for the past. they were moving forward, reuniting their family, slowly yet surely.

-
a/n: i like writing sad shit :)

It's My Turn.                                                        (𝐃𝐒𝐌𝐏!)Where stories live. Discover now