Perfect Screw Ups | Quackbur

Chapter Fifteen

TW/CW: mentions of alcohol use

A/N: unedited 😻 I'll edit all these in June, promise.

"Hey," Wilbur whispered from behind me, sneaking his hands around my waist and resting his head on my shoulder.

"Hey," I replied, my heart thumping with guilt.

"You. . okay?" he asks. "Wanna talk?"

I shook my head no. I did not want to tell him what was on my mind ever. One time I had told him something about my mom that was particularly bad and I could hear the pain in his voice. I had never heard that type of pain in his voice. I caused it.

I promised to never do it again and then I made the mistake of ranting to him while I was drunk.

He was so hurt I was terrified, I would never tell him anything again. I won't have anyone hurt because of me.

Yet a small voice in the back of my head whispers, "you already have. You always do."

I feel my heart thumping more aggressively. I did, I know I did.

And another voice says, "you're just like her."

I gasped and pulled away from Wilbur's grasp.

He looks at me, shocked and pained.

No, please don't look at me like that.

"Sally, what's. . ."

The words start washing out and the room is all foggy. No, no, no, please don't leave me here with myself. I am terrible company.

It's like the world is slipping through my fingers, I'm not in control anymore.

I dig my nails deep into my skin, piercing the tissue and gasping at the feeling of blood touching my finger tips.

Control is mine once more, if I'm responsible for my hurt then I am in control.

"Sally!"

I shriek, looking up at him.

"Sally, what's wrong!? Have you heard anything I've said?"

I swallow thickly, nodding my head.

He presses his lips into a thin line, I know he doesn't believe me but he doesn't press any further. . "Good, just. .let me know if you'd like to talk? Okay? I'm just worried about you and--"

"I'm fine!" I respond immediately, cutting him off and forcing the cheery tone out, "don't worry about me! I'll be alright!"

He sighs and nods. "Any plans today then?"

For some reason I wanted to be as far away from him as possible. .I shook my head again. "I have some thinking to do. I'm sorry if it's too much to ask. .but can I have the apartment to myself for a little while? Maybe an hour or so. ."

"Of course, love," he kisses my cheek and is immediately out the door to grant me the space I need.

I sighed and sat down. I opened my laptop to begin my research.

__________

"Quackity, open up!" I shouted, knocking on his door aggressively.

I heard a heavy groan from the other side which made me laugh. He swung the door open in annoyance. "Can I be of assistance, Will?"

I nodded. "I would like entry to your home, please."

He pinched the bridge of his nose but then his lips turned up into a smile. "Fine, get in here then."

I smiled and walked in the house, the door clicking shut shortly after.

"How are you today, Will?"

"I'm doing fine. You?"

"Awesome, I feel like I've just bathed in a river of gold," he replies.

Quackity tries his best not to show when his days are particularly shitty, but I can always tell.

I laugh. "Wow, anything else?"

"Yeah, feel like there's a rainbow over my head with a little leprechaun sliding down to advertise his ingenious new marketing idea. Picture this, a cereal brand."

I burst out into laughter and he smiles.

"What? Isn't it genius?"

"Ah yes, I can see it now. Mucky Larms."

"Did you just make the leprechauns cereal an offbrand product??"

I'm laughing so hard my stomach hurts.

"And just like that, the leprechauns dream of being a popular cereal brand are crushed."

With that conclusion he slumps into the couch and I plop beside him.

"How's your day really going?" I ask.

"Was I not convincing enough?"

"Not in the slightest."

He flicks me gently and smiles. "Fine then, pretty awful. Before you ask, no I don't want to talk about it. And before you say anything, I know you're always here for me and I thank you for your service, sir."

I smile and give him a tiny pat on the shoulder. "Okay then. What's on the agenda?"

"Movie?"

"Okay. Which one?"

"Doesn't matter to me."

"Ghibli studio, always," I reply.

He smiles and nods. "Of course."

We watch movies in a comfortable silence for the remainder of the day.

__________

When I walked inside the house everything was thrown on the floor and I heard wailing coming from one of the rooms.

I ran to the bedroom in fear and saw Sally on the floor clutching the carpet desperately.

"Sally!"

She was sobbing and there were things thrown haphazardly throughout the room.

I saw a book on the bed and a laptop shattered against the wall.

"Jesus," I mutter.

I scoop her up and place her on the bed.

I try to calm her by petting her hair and rubbing her back.

"What's wrong?" I ask once she's finally settled down a bit.

She doesn't answer me, she just apologizes over and over again.

"Sally," I repeat, "what's wrong? Why are you sorry?"

"I'm just like her," is all she's saying.

She's drunk again I realize. Something happened and she got drunk again. I frown and help her take off her shoes and change into some comfier clothes which consists of only an oversized T-shirt.

She crawled underneath the covers and buried herself beneath them as she continued to sob.

"Would you like me to sleep beside you?" I ask.

"No," she cries, "no."

"That's okay. Sleep well, alright?"

She doesn't say anything. .

I go to the living room and pick up all that I can before retiring on the couch. I'm about to sleep when I hear soft footsteps followed by a gentle tug on my blanket.

I look at Sally in confusion. I'm about to ask if she's okay when she says something.

"I need help," she says, "I need to get help."