Wilbur can't bring himself to tell Fundy. He just simply can't tell his son that his mother hurt him so badly. So.. he lied.. and lied.. and lied.
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Wilbur had thought about Quackity's words daily. He swore that he'd never let Fundy get involved in his mess that he created, but now it seemed impossible to counter argue. His boy, his son would grow up and never understand why his family is so fucked up.
Which is how the man in a red beanie ended up in the position he was in now, walking around his room repeatedly.
He knew damn well he'd have to tell Fundy, but how was the question. Of course he would never show him the horrid pictures. It just terrified him. Wilbur hadn't left his room in a couple days, same clothes, a half eaten dish, and a son that was wondering where the hell he was.
But Fundy was used to this, the poor boy was used to his father disappearing for days. Then only getting a small apology.
At this point Fundy couldn't care less. He had multiple distractions to get him through the day, talking with friends and playing video games being the main two ones.
Phil tried to get Wilbur and Fundy to just bond like normal family.
It was difficult.
Fundy not wanting to see his father, not wanting to here his shit excuses as to why he's been such a bad dad.
And Wilbur not wanting to have to explain the abuse hes been facing for years.
It was too much change for the both of them, so much came crashing down at once. The annoying tic of the clock ran freely in Wilburs mind, it was a bad way of reminding him that time was running out. That the time was near.
The tall man shut his eyes to collect his thoughts, he had been rehearsing all day what he would say to Fundy. All day he had spent thinking of what to say when his son asked why he had always been so closed off.
Rubbing his face, he looked over to the calendar to his left. April 11, 2029 was circled in red pen, thats his court date. The day that decides it all, the day that sees if Wilbur Soot will 'get justice'. Not a day went by where the oddly tall man didn't think about the fastly approaching day, it was always on his mind. And not in a good way.
He was more than nervous to go to court, but he knew that if he won. He'd be one step closer to letting go his past, it just seemed impossible for him.
The room he occupied was messy beyond belief, dishes of half eaten food, clothes thrown around and pulls starting to build up. Wilbur would say that it was worse than Fundys room, rubbish just scattered around the flooring. The most he'd clean would be him just kicking the rubbish to a corner.
Wilbur sighed as he stood in the middle of his room.
"Unbelievable.. I'm such a fucking mess"
His thoughts about his son soon attacked his fragile mind, he though about what he was feelings. If he was okay, if he ate. "I'm such a horrible father" he breathed after roughly taking off his beanie and ruffled his hair in attempt to look presentable. He cringed internally at how greasy his hair felt, "is this really the life I'm living?"
