What about the plans we made?

To all the things I've lost on you

《Warnings: sad Wilbur, toxic adults (teachers), bullying, implied child neglect (?), children, thing down on ones self》

Wilbur watched as Clay opened his door, revealing a bed with white sheets and pillows. It didn't have any blankets, and the sheets and pillows looked worn out. The room was a medium size, with a closest door, and a bathroom one as well. There were no windows, and no other furniture. Wilbur did notice that all his stuff was next to the bed. Wilbur took a glance at Clay and slowly walked in, jumping a bit when the door was shut behind him. Wilbur turned on the lights, and went to his stuff, getting down on his knees. He started to look at his stuff, making sure everything was there.

Friend? Check.

Guitar? Check.

Anything else? Check.

That was good. At least they let him keep his stuff, so it can't be that bad, right? (It will be bad.)

------

Elza sighed as she entered her home, taking off her doctor coat. The day had gone as it usually would after Wilbur went. And while she tried to not think too hard about it, Mrs. Reed had been awfully suspicious. Her swirled in her head all day, like a whisper that slowly was going into a yell. Would Wilbur be okay? How will his new foster family treat him, because last time it was obviously horrible. Will Mrs. Reed be a good social worker? Elza pushed those thoughts away, walking to the kitchen and opening the fridge, instead focusing on what to have for dinner.

Elza decided on just having some pasta, as he got out the noodles, she a thought popped into her mind. 'What is Wilbur eating? He was quite skinny last time I saw him..(that last time was earlier today.)'.

Elza suppressed those thoughts, why was she caring so much about a patient? She really shouldn't, Elza sees patients all the time, other patients being in her care of seeing her more than just Wilbur. It was peculiar, and strange. The pasta finished after a few minutes, Elza sitting down and eating. 

Elza couldn't help her curiosity wondering why Wilbur was an orphan. He seemed like such a sweet child. How long has he been abandoned, because he seemed to have a good relationship with his de- old social worker. Has he just always been an orphan, did his parents die? Did he have siblings? Elza knew she shouldn't pry, or think these thoughts. It was nosy, and wasn't her business. 

But her curiosity didn't seem to care.

Elza sighed again, why was she sighing so much, and stood up, having finished her pasta. Elza took her plate and went to the sink, placing it in there and going upstairs to take a shower. As she walked by her room to get to the bathroom, she caught herself wondering; 'Does Wilbur have a good bedroom in his new family?'. 

"Stop thinking, brain," Elza mumbled to herself.  

It wasn't normal, she thinks, to care so much for a patient, that she just met! And she might not ever see him again. But Elza feels herself worrying and caring so Wilbur. Like she said earlier, it was strange, peculiar. Elza walked into the bathroom, shutting the door and turning on the shower. She runs her fingers through her hair, repeating 'Wilbur will be fine' over and over again.

It felt like she was trying to convince herself, rather than it being true.