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Sometimes [8]

//tws- panic attack, mental breakdown, mention of suicide, like about to throw up but also not , lmk if I missed any//

~3rd persons POV~

maybe it was that Wilbur was already so close to blacking out already, or that that night was already full of too much trauma for kids to comprehend, or that Techno wasn't even worried about himself when he was laying on the floor panicking, or maybe it was just that everyone was a little too tired.  But nobody could remember exactly what went down with Techno that night. Well not everyone.

Phil just thought keeping the memory to be determined may be a bit more for the better.

Keyword: thought

~Philzas Pov~

Walking up to my room to go to bed was one thing when you feel like you're already about to pass out, but it's different when you see your kids clinging to each other; one crying and one trying to not. It hurt, to say the least. It hurts seeing the people you love most in pain, and you don't even know how to fix it or if you can.

In these situations, you can do one of two things (which happens in most situations as a parent); interfere, or don't. Like it should be a simple choice but the logic of it is the furthest from simple. if you interfere it could be beneficial because that's slightly more professionalized and experienced help. But interference could also negatively affect a moment between siblings. (Guys, you should go drink water :]) In the long run, I think the smartest decision is to leave it to them. Wilbur seems to have it as under control as possible and it's better to let them build more trust. Wow, I am smart. 

And it's not that I don't want to help because holy shit I do, it's just that I think that it might be better for them to gain trust with each other and maybe learn a bit from this? It does hurt watching your child in pain, it hurts more than imaginable. But now; now I can only stay back and hope it comes out the better side.

~3rd person (my fucking worst enemy's) POV~ (wait I said once it was easier 💀WHOOPS)

Wilbur was worried about him, techno I mean.

Even in his drunken state, he wasn't failing to recognize the panic attack likely caused by a flashback.

Wilbur just hadn't known what the trigger for this had been. So, all he could do was sit there on the floor with him. waiting for him to be calm enough to pick up which Wilbur hadn't wanted to do seeing as techno was in fact tall and lanky, as well as Wilbur drunk and unable to walk 100% properly. (Why do I want to write in my Percy Jackson think that I discontinued like a year ago I don't even remember what it's about+it's definitely cringe) (motivation-er I hardly know her!)
However, he knew it had to be done anyways.

After about 10 minutes of quiet words that will never be repeated cause Wilbur cannot be portrayed as a soft and caring man' techno was half asleep with his head resting on Wilbur's shoulder Wil had finally felt strong and slightly more sober or enough to carry the blade to his room.  It was a hassle (as I say that I mean techno was nearly dropped and ran into multiple walls many times) they finally made it to one boy in his bed and another about to shut the lights off and leave. That was until...

"Wilbur?" 

"Yeah, tech?"

"Can you c'mere please?"

the brunette agreed and dimmed the lights before walking back towards his big brother and sitting on the side of his bed. 

"What is it, big man?" Wilbur adjusted Techno's hair so that the older would be able to see properly. He just simply tapped the spot next to him. 

This was an age-old indicator for the two that they just wanted close company. No dad, no random social worker, no annoying teachers or friends. just two brothers who will never speak of this moment again.  So, Wil just laid down next to his brother until he knew Technoblade had been asleep. He then silently got up and went to his respective room.

after changing and nearly tripping and vomiting a few times the teen lay in his bed and thought. that's when everything finally crashed down on him. he had yelled at and abused a kid. a kid who did almost nothing to him. He went off and got drunk and then got busted by the cops, his dad lectured him, and he probably caused his brother's panic attack. In short. He fucked up. Big time. 

one thing led to another and then there was heavy breathing Infront of an empty garbage bag. This happens. A lot. It had been getting better until recently. At this point, Wilbur has been having another anxiety attack nearly every other day. 

He didn't even know why either. sometimes he was overthinking, or too stressed. sometimes his mind just needed a way to get everything out, and sometimes? sometimes it was just random. And those are always the worst.  cause its weird to have so many senses heightened and your fight or flight response going rapidly and frankly, it's horrifying. 

In, out, in, in again, out. again, and again. hold the bag to your face and cry a bit. Maybe even try and tie the bag around your head. anything to get this nightmare to end.  Causer its awful. Everything is terrible about any situation like this. 

And Wilbur was jealous. He was jealous of the perfect asshats that can function normally. pass classes, stay sober, and not get angry all the time. He was jealous of the people who were never stuck in this situation, wanting to be normal. Cause sometimes. it's just not fucking fair sometimes. 

and as the teen fell asleep, leaning against his bed frame with tear-stained cheeks and an anticipating trash bag; he just thought...

"it doesn't feel fair...Sometimes"

__________________

TOTALLY HASN'T BEEN FOREVER LMAO 😭 ANYWAY SORRY FOR THE WAIT 1006 WORDS. IDK WHEN NEXT UPDATE IS BECAUSE I LOST MY NOTEBOOK OF IDEAS KMS. TY GUYS BUH BYE

-PERCY <3