Us Against the World

Chapter 8- Cocoa and Crying

I find the chapter title a bit too relateble... heh

IM SORRY WHAT WE'RE ALMOST TO 150 READS WHAT THE HELL?

TSYM!

gtg class is starting lol

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That ender kid was so fucking scared...

I mean, you wake up in a cell without powers and you have no clue why they aren't working and you'd probably panic too.

Yes, but they're criminals. Both of them.

Criminal records don't change people's ages.

It does to Council. And X–

"Snap out of it before I punch you."

The voice of Wilbur's brother pulls the young adult out of his ruminations. Wilbur ignores the threat- Techno has used that one wayyy too much for it to work on him anymore, "Yeah, yeah," Wil pinches the bridge of his nose and looks up at the older twin, "Sorry, wazzup?"

"The Sherriff wants to talk to us."

Taking a moment to process this information, Wilbur cocks his head as his brain reboots. Once he fully process what Techno said, he throws his head back, groaning dramatically, "Greeaaaattt."

"C'mon."

After what Techno and Wilbur both agree was far too long talking with the police, they finally make it back home. Somehow, the older is mysteriously dry, while Wilbur is still shivering, missing the orange blanket the police had lent him.

Wilbur shoves Techno towards the door, too cold and tired to unlock it himself. After the pair stumble (Wilbur) and stride regally (Techno) into their house, they both struggle with their shoes- cold fingers aren't the best for fine motor movement.

"There you guys are, I was getting worried!"

Wilbur looks up to see his father leaning against the wall near the living room. Instead of his usual loose green wrap-around shirt, Phil is wearing a rumple suit, sans jacket and with the tie undone, resting around his shoulders. Right, there was that meeting today with the Mayor and Council. Ha we didn't have to go. Poogggg.

"Hey, Dad," Wilbur greets his father as Techno nods and disappears upstairs. The seventeen-year-old knows he sounds dead, but he can't bring himself to care- all he cares about right now is getting warm and going to bed. Everything else can wait until tomorrow. Or never, preferably.

"What's wrong mate?" Phil asks immediately, hearing and seeing how drained Wilbur is, "Didn't the two of you manage to get those vigilantes?"

Seeing no reason to beat around the bush, Wil blurts out, "It's two of those kids from Niki's, the ones from last week."

"The blonde kid- Tommy?" Phil asks, remembering the chaotic but sweet boy who tried so hard not to swear while serving them. The elytrian hybrid is usually good at reading people, but nothing about the boy had been suspicious at all. A little hyper and he had a nervous look in his eyes, but that's normal enough, especially for teenagers of this generation.

"Yeah, and his tall friend with the hair..." Wilbur gestures up and down in front of his face to demonstrate Ranboo's bicolored hair, "The one who was petting the muffin."

"The short one?"

Wilbur shakes his head, running his fingers though his brown hair, "No. But he could be a part of their little group, or he could just be an oblivious friend who has no clue. I'll find him tomorrow"

"How are you gonna find him?"

"Dunno I'm tired and cold and gotta headache g'night," Wilbur mutters, giving his father a tierd attempt at a wave as the lanky teenager heads for the stairs.

Phil follows his son to the base of the stairs and asks, "Do you want some cocoa?"

"Sure dad, thanks."

"Kay, you go take a shower and I'll bring some up."

Wil nods, hurrying upstairs to the promised warmth. After showering and pulling on some pjs that he thinks might actually be his for once, Wilbur lets himself fall face first onto his bed.

A knock sounds on Wilbur's door and he calls for them to come in. Phil enters, carefully carrying a large mug filled with mini marshmallows and hot cocoa. His father sits on the bed beside Wil, handing him the steaming mug. Reading his son with years of experience, Phil puts a comforting arm around the boy's shoulders.

"It'll be alright, mate."

"They're just kids, Dad," Wilbur's voice cracks as a single tear slips from his eye.

"I know. We'll see what we can do for them, promise."

Phil knows why Wilbur is acting like this, and by the gods does he mean that promise.

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