Wilbur Centric Oneshots With Quackbur

College Au/"I Need Help" Part 1

***Another scrapped idea for the start of a sequel. Centric around Crime and Sickness***

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.

Wilbur quickly hopped the fence and ran across the street. He needed to get away.
 
Police sirens wailed in his ears, he clamped his hands against them and kept running. He needed to Run. RUN.

After a long period of running, tears streaming, hands clamped over ears, he ducked into an alleyway and slid down the rough brick wall. There were probably scratches down his back from it but his panic induced state couldn't care less.

1 a deep breath, 4 hold, 7 exhale, 1 a deep breath, 4 hold, 7 exhale. You’re fine quit being a baby. Wilbur finally got his breathing under control and strained his ears to ear sirens. Nope. No sirens. Relieved, he sighed. Wilbur pulled his beanie down, obscuring part of his face and flipped his hood up.

His converse splashed through puddles, the water soaking his socks. 

He ignored the squishy socks and continued to jump into puddles on his way back to his house. Yeah, the sirens were definitely gone at this point.

Wilbur opened the house door and slammed it shut, leaning against it and breathing heavily.

He couldn't breathe, every breath was uneven and shaky. They stabbed his lungs like thousands of needles, seemingly puncturing holes and making it harder to breathe. His vision started to fade, details disappearing from his view and turning into blobs of color.

A blob moved forward and grabbed his hand.

Wilbur flinched and the blob retracted.

Then the blob came back and engulfed him in a hug. He tensed and started to panic before relaxing into the hug.

It'd been a while since he had this. This comfort that only a mother could give. Warm and embracing, and somehow full of love for the unlovable.

His breathing slowed and he could hear reassuring words from his mother. “Hey you’re okay, you’re okay, I’ve got you.” Wilbur didn’t say anything but he curled into his mom’s touch and breathed her in.

He was safe.

Beep beep beep beep beep beep bee-

Wilbur smacked his alarm and rolled back underneath the covers. Yeah, school? Not happening today. He’d email his teachers later for the work.

His stomach then decided to revolt against the brain and throw up last night's dinner. Wilbur booked it into the bathroom, barely making it to the toilet. He sat hunched over puking his guts out. 

“Hey Wil? You okay?” A knock on the door startled him. Charlie. Wilbur sat up to open the door and smacked his head on the sink counter.

“Fucking helllllllll”. He rubbed his head and opened the door. Charlie looked him up and down once and led him back to the toilet, where Wilbur continued to throw up his lungs.

Charlie rubbed Wilbur’s back as he dry heaved into the toilet bowl, only stomach acid coming out now.

“How you feeling?” Wilbur turned and glared at Charlie before having to return to the toilet bowl.

“I’ll take that as feeling like shit.” Charlie stood up, “I’m gonna email your teachers, you look awful Wil. I’ll be right back.” He walked out and shut the door, Wilbur flinching at the noise.

You should go…

You’re fine, stop making excuses

Get off your lazy ass and go to your classes

Wilbur decided the voices were right and stood. The floor tilted and the world spun. He grabbed the counter in a desperate attempt to stop himself from falling.

His knuckles turned white as he gripped the sink main anime character style and looked at his reflection.

He looked like a mess.

He needed help.

"Hey Charlie?"

"What's up Wil?"

"I need Help."