Love Is Our Chance | DreamNotFound

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"Welcome ladies and gentlemen to the funeral of the very loved George Davidson." The funeral conductor opened, "My name is Ranboo and I will be the minister for this evening."

Clay kept bouncing his leg up and down nervously as he thought of things to say about George Davidson.

He didn't know what to say.

There was obviously some things he's always wanted to say, but those things were to be kept under secrecy. They both swore on it.

But if he was to share it, George couldn't do anything, he was already gone...and Clay would be joining him soon.

Should he risk it? Leave it up to chance?

The man subconsciously put his hand in his jacket pocket and tried feeling around for something that could help him out.

"Dad, are you alright?" Tommy asked.

Clay looked over at his son and took his hand out of his pocket slowly, "Uhh, I think so, just a bit nervous."

Tommy put his hand on his Father's and gave it a little reassuring squeeze, "You'll be okay Dad, just say stuff you mean and, uh...," Tommy frowned, thinking of what else to say, "And say stuff that's true, the guy's dead for goodness sake, it would be a dick move to lie."

Clay smiled and nodded, "Okay, thank you Tom Tom." Regret filled his stomach, "Tom, there have been things I've done in my life that you don't know about and I don't want you to be ashamed if they surface."

Tommy's face dropped, "Like what Dad?"

"You'll find out soon enough, but when you do...I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner." Clay said and turned his attention back to the eulogies.

"Dad." Wilbur chuckled as he leaned on the podium, "Dear old Dad. I never realised that our time together would end so fast, I didn't want it to." Wilbur stopped smiling and took a deep breath, "There would be times where I felt as if you weren't my Father, times where I felt like I was on my own with Tubbo and I hated you for it. Years and years left feeling abandoned yet you were sitting right in front of me at the dinner table. I thought you were selfish and cruel and hateful."

The audience was taken aback. They did not expect Wilbur to admit those things in a eulogy.

"But now I realise you did what you did because you were hurting." His voice cracked, "Those years of feeling distant was because you were distant with yourself. I was young and fucking idiotic, I hated you so much when you probably hated yourself more. You weren't happy a-and I didn't even notice-," A tear slipped down the brunette's face, "And even though we made up a few years back, I will always feel horrible for the way I treated you, I will always fucking regret everything because I know now that if I had just talked to you, I would have seen that you weren't okay and that I was fuelling that pain and hatred towards yourself and I'm sorry." Sally had to walk up on stage to hold him, "I'm fucking sorry."

Ranboo walked up on stage and put his hand on Wilbur's shoulder, "You don't need to continue-,"

"Yes I fucking do." Wilbur said as he shrugged both Sally and Ranboo off, "I have to finish this, I owe him at least this much."

He took a deep breath, "George Davidson was a hateful man at times, he never had the time of day for his sons, only stories about people he once knew. I thought it was because he hated us so much he only wanted to be reminded of the good days. But I've matured and realised that he would always talk about his younger days because that's when he felt the most happy, the most pure and like himself. He didn't want to be a Father but he stayed with us, he cared enough to give us meals on the table and a roof over our head. He was there for us when our own fucking Mother left us."

Toby started shaking his head at his brother's meltdown, scared it was too much.

"Don't shake your head at me Tubbo, you know that she left us, she left us for nothing, abandoned us." Wilbur said, pointing his finger accusingly as he talked, "And despite that, we-, I spent most of my childhood hating the wrong parent."

Clay's breath hitched in his lungs. There was something familiar about this, it was almost like...

Wilbur closed his eyes and gripped hard on the podium, "George Davidson, my father - despite acting cold hearted and mean was actually one of the most pure and genuine souls. I was too young to notice him always washing my car every week because he knew I was stressed out with college. Too stupid to realise he was the one tucking me in at night when I would have to stay up and study. Too idiotic to realise he didn't leave my Mother, no - she chose to. She left us. Not only did she leave us, she told us that she'd be back, that she loved us." His voice cracked at the end, avoiding eye contact with anyone and staring down at the podium. "Bunch of bullshit." He shook his head and lowered his voice, "Couldn't even make it to her ex-husband's funeral."

Toby stood up abruptly and walked to the stage in a hurry. He grabbed his brother and tried dragging him off the stage - but the brunette wasn't budging.

"I'm sorry Dad, I really am." He cried, still fighting his brother, "I don't hate you and I wish I never did." He dropped his head, "I feel nothing but guilt now and I'm sorry that you had to deal with a fucking awful person like me." He let Toby guide him off the stage, "I love you and I hope you're finally at peace."

Wilbur shook his brother off and walked away from everyone, kicking his shoe against the ground in rage and collapsed on the floor. Holding his head in hands as he cried all the regret and guilt away.

Everyone was silent, not a sound was made. They were took engrossed in Wilbur's words or too sympathetic towards him to speak.

Clay watched as Sally ran towards her boyfriend and cradled him in her arms. He swallowed and looked away, thinking about how the scene looked all too familiar.

Toby looked at everyone with wide eyes, "Uh-," He looked at Clay, "Mr Greene could you please-,"

Clay's eyes widened and his hand gripped his cane tighter.

"Please."

"Dad go." Tommy said, helping him stand up.

Clay sighed as he stood up and made his way to the stage, all eyes on him.

Toby sighed in relief as he watched Clay. He made sure the man was onstage before running to his brother.

"Umm the second person speaking about Mr Davidson is Clay Greene, an old friend." Ranboo announced to everyone and walked to the side, making way for Clay in the middle of the stage.

Clay gulped as everyone's eyes watched him, waiting for him to talk.

"Umm," He said and cleared his throat, "If I'm honest I don't really know what to say, I wasn't asked to say anything until just before."

There were a few half-assed chuckles in the crowd.

"I saw George not too long ago, but if I'm honest, that visit wasn't a very pleasant one." He admitted, "When I asked his sons what to say, they said retell stories of my-, our childhood. And when I asked my own son what to say, he said say stuff that I mean, that I've been wanting to say for a long time." He smiled at Tommy, "So I will, and please don't hate me Tom Tom."

The grey clouds circled the venue as the cold and awkward silence washed over everyone. The floral wreath placed on George's grave were looking pale and lifeless.

"Here it goes." Clay closed his eyes and took a deep breath, "I met George Davidson when I was almost eleven-,"