Replaced

Part 24

So I made changes on my last part on purpleds pov thingy so check that out.

The golden blonde hair blew threw the wind, as he stumbled upon the street. He had no clue where he was, or what was going on, well deep down he knew. But that's why you keep drinking, right?

It had been a week since he last saw anyone, the last person he saw that he knew was purpled walking into the woods.

He laid down by a bench, waving his bottle of whisky around. A black mustang pulled up, he recognized the familiar lanky musician, the younger didn't care though.

"Holy shit, hey Toms. Everyone has been freaking out over you, mostly schlatt though." The soft spoken voice said getting louder as he got closer.

"Heyyy W-Wilam." The sixteen year old slurred, giving him a toothy grin.

"Come on. Let's go." Tommy furrowed his eyebrows.

"Oooh wwwherre w-we going?"

"To the mansion." The older remarked almost dragging the boy to the car, the icy blue orbs widened.

"B-Butt Derek is t-there." Wilbur nodded, raising a eyebrow. "A-And well heee killed a-all offff my p-parrents even minxxx." The brunette froze staring at the teenager who just gazed back at him with lazy eyes, alcohol in one hand.

The realization hit him, schlatt never told him the bad of Tommy's story, why he disappeared. His brown orbs softened, taking away the bottle of whiskey and throwing it out the window.

"Noo." The younger whined, Wil stayed parked in the middle of the road, dialing a number.

"Hello." Man, the New Yorker sounded dead.

"I found Tommy, drunk. But he doesn't want to go to the mansion because of Derek." The twenty one year old hummed, typing something into his phone.

"There I just sent you the address of the air bnb that minx and him we're staying at."

Purpled ran a hand through his sandy blonde hair as he wondered through the woods, he liked the green constantly surrounding him. Before he left he had packed a bag, since he shared a room with Derek he stole so much shit from him.

He grinned when he saw a old rusty cabin, moss covered it, and he could hear a rattle snake. It reminded him of the place him and his dad stayed at when he was six. Good. I need to be in that mentality.

He sighed, checking it out. There was a bed and a kitchen, all he needed, he swung his back off his shoulder dumping it onto the wooden table.

A whole bunch of sharp objects, a couple guns and gold fish falling out, he grabbed a orange flaky cracker as he waltzed around going through the drawers to see if there was food.

"Who's there?!" He heard a oddly familiar voice say making him jump, grabbing a knife.

But instead of lunging at him, gray immediately freezing at the figure, the eldery man stared at him trying to remember why Grayson looks familiar.

"I-I killed you, how are you alive?" The light purple gaze shifting frantically at the man.

Guys are we bad people because we like to read fics about children suffering?