The Year We Had (MCYT AU)

23: Just in Time

TW! Underage drug usage. Read with care!

"Wilbur I swear to fucking god--"

"I either do it in here or I do it out there." Wilbur said with an unwavering smile and far too much certainty to his voice. "You don't have to like it, but it's happening."

"Wilbur." Phil repeated firmly, crossing his arms firmly over his chest. "It's fucking illegal. You're literally in protective custody."

"What're you gonna do, arrest me?" He joked, raising his eyebrows with a wide smile.

"If Wilbur's doing drugs it seems only fair that I also do drugs." Tommy piped up from the kitchen table, where he was sitting over a bowl of soggy, tasteless cereal. It was almost 10pm, but the cereal felt appropriate for the glum mood.

"Nobody's doing fucking drugs!" Phil shouted, glaring at his two sons. "Give it here Wil. Now. I'm not joking around." He held his hand out and waited.

"No." Wilbur said with a shrug, glancing down at the joint in his hand. The sheer fact that he had managed to keep it after having his bags searched was nothing short of terrifying. Phil would have to have a word with the department. "I've survived five days. Really, you should be congratulating me. That's a pretty good streak."

"Not to play the devil's advocate," Techno called from the sofa, "But he's kinda right. Five days is impressive for him."

"Wilbur give me the fucking joint. Now." Phil said firmly, a dangerous tone to his voice.

"Nope." Wilbur grinned tucking it behind his ear and pulling a lighter from his pocket. How the hell did he even get that in here? "Now, are you going to let me outside or would you also like to experience the effects? It's your choice, Dad."

"Wilbur." Phil warned.

"What? What are you going to do?" Wilbur challenged, his head tilting to one side. "Lock me away? Take my things? Ruin my life? Too late. Already done. You can't arrest me because I'm already not allowed to leave."
He thought about letting Phil get a few more words in, but decided that it was pointless. He pushed past him and made his way to the back door.

He pushed it open and stepped out into the cool night air, already feeling lighter. He had been cooped up in this house for far too long.

Sitting on a chair on the porch was one of Phil's workmates, a man named Pete. Wilbur had spoken to him a handful of times, and he seemed nice enough. But when he spotted Wilbur his eyes widened slightly. He wasn't supposed to be out here. "Hey buddy. Fresh air?"

"Yeah." Wilbur said casually, taking the joint from behind his ear and pinching it between his lips. He walked to the edge of the porch and sat, staring out at the darkened backyard and the night sky.

Pete was out of his chair in an instant. "Wilbur, is that--"

"Nope." Wilbur lied flatly, bringing the lighter up and lighting up. It was clear as day to see what he was doing. But he was determined to get as much of it in his system as possible before he was inevitably stopped. He felt that he had earnt at least that.

The door opened again, and Tommy stepped out, giving Pete a formal nod before moving across to sit beside Wilbur. Wilbur exhaled slowly, a steady stream of smoke leaving his lungs as he did so. Tommy held out a hand, and Wilbur raised his eyebrows. This, he hadn't expected. "You sure?"

His younger brother nodded, and Wilbur shrugged, carefully handing it over. He was many things, but he was not a hypocrite. "It's gonna burn. You gotta suck it into your mouth, stop, then suck it into your lungs and hold it there for a moment." Tommy nodded, and brought the joint to his lips.