an institution for troubled children

slipping through my fingers

𝖙𝖗𝖎𝖌𝖌𝖊𝖗 𝖜𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘 𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖉 𝖎𝖓 𝖔𝖕𝖊𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖆𝖚𝖙𝖍𝖔𝖗'𝖘 𝖓𝖔𝖙𝖊

༄ؘ ˑ

"but i won't have anywhere to go," wilbur says, his heart running as if he'd had too much caffeine. he bounces his knee quickly, unaware of how it is ever so slightly moving the couch. "i-i'm going to be homeless!"

"wilbur, no," niki continues to shoot down his irrational thoughts. "the school doesn't just dump you as soon as you graduate. they won't send you off with nowhere to go, you know that."

his mind continues to run, darting from one worry to the other, hardly leaving time for niki's responses. "a-and graduating! what if i don't even graduate?!"

"you're going to graduate. you're literally one of the highest achievers, wilbur, you've done so amazing," she argues, "you need to take a breath wil, you're panicking yourself."

"and how is tommy going to handle everything without us too?" wilbur rambles on, physically deteriorating as he stands up and moves from the couch to the nearest wall, sliding down it to sit on the floor. "h-he needs us!"

"wilbur, graduation isn't for months," she rationalises, "and even when it comes around, tommy is going to be fine. he has ranboo and tubbo, and purpled too now! and he has phil, and rae. he isn't alone. plus, it's not like you can't visit, and you can call like every day."

wilbur breathes in shakily, pressing his eyes tightly shut and curling his hands into fists. "i can't, i can't," he mumbles.

from the couch, niki sighs sympathetically. "wil, it's going to be okay. just focus on your breathing," she guides, "you're doing okay."

"i'm not," he argues. "i'm not okay, i'm not okay," he repeats like a mantra.

wilbur reels his head forward before slamming it back against the wall behind him with a resounding thud.

niki winces. "wilbur, don't do that," she scolds. she understands he's panicking, and she wants to help more than anything, but she knows he won't want a hug or anything, and he hasn't been listening to her for the past ten minutes. "please don't hurt yourself."

he can't hear her.

he hits his head again, trying to knock out the thoughts, the pain.

"wilbur-"

he does it again.

"-please stop wil."

again, and again.

niki can't handle watching and quickly gets up.

she moves to put her hand between his head and the wall before waiting a moment to grip his shoulders.

the pinkette quickly pushes him down, wrestling him to the floor to refrain him from hurting himself. she sits on his back to keep him down, moving his hands behind his back. niki uses one hand to hold his arms there, the other moving to hold his head on the floor- that way he can't hit it.