Go To Bed, Won't You?!?! (FINISHED!)

⟨Backstories⟩

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WARNING! THIS CHAPTER IS MAINLY ANGST, SO IF YOU'RE HERE FOR SWEET CRAP, ITS NOT HAPPENING. PROCEED ONTO NEXT CHAPTER.
THIS WILL ALSO MAINLY BE IN GREGORY'S POV.
THANK YOU, AND ENJOY.

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Gregory's POV, 3:26 PM.

"So, about that 'no-last-name' stuff. What did you mean?" He asked, looking at me in curiosity. Out of all the questions, I really wished he didn't ask this one.
"Well, my parents pretty much left me on the streets to die, so I've just considered that I no longer have a last name. Meaning my name is just Gregory." I said to him, which his face went from neutral to concerned.
"For how long?!" He questioned in anticipation, staring into my soul for an answer.
"Uh, well I'm sure they did it when I was old enough to function, so maybe... Eight? Nine?"
"So how old are you now?"
"Twelve!"
His hands slammed on the ground and his facial expression was the equivalent of the face you would make after being told your house burnt down.
"Twelve?! That's-" he began to count with his fingers. "That's three to four years!" His voice was high in pitch, looking at me in wild concern. I never paid it no mind, but is my situation really that bad?
I shook it off for now.

"Okay, it's my turn." I said, really excited, as I tapped my fingers in the carpet floor.
"Fair enough. Ask anything." He replied.
"So, living with the Afton's. I bet it's awesome! What is it like?" I asked, wanting to hear his stories and get jealous by all the bragging rights he had. But instead, I got a sour, saddened look from Evan, and a deep breath.
"It's... Not what you would expect." He said quietly, moving his hands to his demin shorts and gripping on them. I stated at him, my once excitement turning into curiosity, and concern.

"My sister, she's the nicest out of the family. My brother, he hates my guts. He's made my life a living hell ever since he figured out I have night terrors." He began to tell his story, his eyes gazing downwards.
"And my father..." His tone got lower. "He's... A murderer."
My face dropped. A murderer?! I needed an explanation, and now.
"What do you mean murderer?" I asked, my voice upping in volume as I said the last part. There's no way, right?

"... I know what I saw. I saw a kid, she looked as if she was from the missing posters I saw of her; Cassidy. He... He was stuffing her in there. In a suit..." I saw as he broke down slowly into a rage of tears, his eyes getting puffy and pink. "She was already dead by the time he was putting her in there. Her clothes were blood stained and... She was... Lifeless..."
He whispered the last part, as he was finally seeming to break down. The tears streamed down his face quickly, and violently; like they were waiting to.
"I wish I wasn't so naive!" He screamed out in a shaky, torn up voice. With no thought I latched onto him and held him close, hugging him. He kept sobbing his eyes out on my shoulder, grabbing onto me for dear life.
Dear god.
"So, the other missing kids... Do you think-"
I instantly felt a silent nod, and heard the sobbing get louder, grasping onto my shirt like he was about to tear it off on accident.
...
I feel terrible. I felt my face heat up, but not in a good way. I was about to cry too, wasn't I?

"I'm sorry."

That's all I was able to muster up for an apology. I ended up not crying. We stayed holding eachother for quite a while. He soon gained his composure and we let go of eachother. My shoulder was wet and soaked.
"...I didn't mean to cry on you. I apologize." He said, his throat sounding sore.
"It's fine! That's what friends are for!" I said in a positive tone. He looked at me in slight shock.

"...Friends?"
"Yeah! Friends!"
He started smiling. It was wide and filled with happiness. I couldn't help but smile with.
He has a pretty smile.