Conquering Nightmares of the Past

13: Fear Doesn't Exist Anywhere Except The Mind

wilburs home late then they go shopping :)

thx BialyLis (AO3) for the idea :)

tw//panic attack

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Wilbur sprinted out of the store, happiness from a few moments ago gone, running zig-zags along the footpath to avoid running into streetlamps or other people.

God, he was so fucked. Phil had been so amazing and kind and even let him go, on his own, to hang out with his friends. With the only rule being that he had to be home by 5. It was 5:41. So, as previously stated, he was so fucked.

He hopes everything Phil and Puffy had been saying isn't wrong. He really hopes that Phil isn't going to snap. Every part of him wants to believe that Phil is too nice to kick him out or hurt him, that he'll be a little upset but still be Wilbur's kind, loving dad regardless but that little voice in his mind that told him to never trust again was spreading out of the corner he had shoved it in.

Long story short, he was freaking out.

He finally reached his street and looked down at his watch as he approached the front door.

5:45 pm

He took a deep breath and pushed the panic down. A panic attack was the last thing he needed right now. What he needed was to use his great conversational skills to pull down Phil's anger as much as he can. Action-mode. No emotions allowed.

He reached into his pocket and grabbed to keys Phil had given him a few weeks ago. He pressed them into the keyhole and twisted, cringing at the noise the door made as he slowly swung it open.

He walked in carefully, closing the door behind him and locking it, turning around and seeing Phil standing over a counter in the kitchen, back turned to the door. He walked over to the sink and washed his hands, leaving the lasagne sitting on the bench, then turned around and locked eyes with Wilbur. He looked calm enough but Wilbur couldn't stop the way he tensed from the attention.

"Hey, Wilbur. I was wondering when you'd get back. Come, sit." Phil gestured to the table with his head as he plated the lasagne and placed it on the table.

"I think we need to have a bit of a chat, mate." He smiled as he spoke in a calm and kind tone, but Wilbur was near shaking. This was it. He was getting sent away. He was losing the first person, save for Sam, who he had loved in the past 5 years.

He held back the tears in his eyes. Fuck what Puffy says, tears only show weakness. He walked over to the table and pulled out the chair with shaking hands. He sat down. He couldn't make eye contact with Phil no matter how hard he tried. He couldn't bring himself to look his dad in the eyes as he told him to leave.

"Wil, you were nearly an hour late home. I know you probably didn't mean to be and you just lost track of time, but that can't happen, sweetie. You scared my half to death." Wilbur couldn't hold himself back. He jumped up to run to his room, hoping to delay his demise for just a little longer (and stash Friend and The Communist Manifesto before Phil could take them).

As he stood, his knee hit the underside of the table and the vase sitting on top of it toppled onto the ground, smashing on impact. Wilbur jumped at the sound, his body falling into panic as he fell to his knees and dissolved into sobs as violent shaking enveloped his body.

Phil jumped out of his chair, running around to the other side of the table, avoiding the broken glass on the floor, and kneeling in front of Wilbur, grabbing one of Wilbur's hands and placing his free hand on Wilbur's cheek, gently wiping away the tears. It was a futile task, but Phil kept trying.