50 shades of Red (gumshall/ Gumlee fanfic)

Terra Cotta

I arrive at Gumballs house early, mostly out of too much excitement and out of lake of sleep (I am a vampire people). I walk up onto his lawn with a bag of strawberry chocolate chip bagels still warm and a piping cup of coffee, for Gumball of course. I guess it’s a sort of offering to show them that I am serious and stuff.

I don’t know, I think while I scratch my own head in confusion, I don’t want to lose him. Even the thought about the situation made me shiver at this point. I feel like I have come to terms with being stead, or, more accurately, being steady for Gumball. Ewww I sound like John or whoever ‘that dude’ is from the notebook. The only reason why I know this is because I remember the commercials in vivid horror.

I shake my head violently trying to get back to the purpose of me being here, at Gumballs door step. I exhale as I ring the door bell. Yes. I rang the door bell instead of flying through the window or the back door, sorry to disappoint but I am a changed vampire (circumstantial).

I stand for a long moment, enough to feel the morning breeze for an amount of time. After another pause after ringing the doorbell once I again, I am tempted to break into the door. I can just go into someone’s house, I think, though I have done many of occasions. I have to have a reason.

Perhaps he is in trouble. Perhaps he needs help. Is hurt? Is sick? Is he locked in the closet? Or is he been taken? All of these things are not appealing to the ear but I sure as night-o-sphere know that positivity is not my strong side.

Before kicking down the door and storming into the house, like I want to, I thump on the door calling “GUMBALL. GUMBALL YOU HOME,” load enough to be heard down the street.

Gumball suddenly throws open the door. “Finally. I thought that it would never open. Mornin’ t ya BG,” I smile naturally into my words. I take a few steps into the door way to hug him but stop once I see the state he’s in.

He’s hair is a mess straying in multiple direction like a gumdrop bat nest, instead of promptly gelled as it usually is. He was soaked to the bone, weather of sweat, water, or tears I don’t have clue.  The bottom f he’s eyes wear red and puffy, signs that he cried much earlier and hard for a very, long, long time. The way he stood even looked off, uneven, and unsteady. He looked at me like I was a car and he was the dear in the head lights, afraid

He stood there, stunned, for just a moment and then Gumball started shacking violently. He keeps shacking and shacking and then I started to hear whimpers and weeps. It sounded like shattering class against a floor tile in the dark of night to one’s ears, terrifying to the tone. Gumball losses the strength in his knees and begins to fall. I panic and lodge to catch him, dropping the coffee and the bagels in the process, splashing some hot coffee onto my leg.

I have him by the shoulders now, my hands desperately gripping to his flesh. His head hangs down as he continues to sob, shake and whimper, causing me to lose my composure. “Gumball!” I shout, my vice breaking at first,” tell me what’s happening to you?”

Gumball sniffs as he lifts his head up and cups his trembling hands on both of my cheeks. “IT’S NOT TRUE. I DIDN’T DO IT. YOU GOTTA BELIEF ME. YOU JUST GOTTA OKAY!” Gumball shouts ragged screams filled with sadness at me, his face coated with tears. “NOT NOW. NOT NOW THAT I JUST GOT YOU. DON’T GO AWAY,” sounding like a deranged, spoiled toddler on the loss of a new, treasured teddy bear. He was begging on his knees and I couldn’t do anything about.

He was always the strong one. Even when we were kid’s he always had a strong face on. He never cried. I was the one who cried. I always cried allot, especially when it came to my stuffed animal. He was the one doing the comforting, not me. Now that’s it’s my turn to pay the bill where it’s due, I don’t have the slightest idea what to do.