Homocide Fifty || DNF

25. Scapegoat

"He does it to get his mums validation," George frowns, groaning. He still can't believe it, even though he thought a warm bed and a new sunrise would make him come to a conclusion.

"Seriously? That's it?" Hannah scoffs, looking at George's chocolate eyes. George nods disapprovingly, munching on his sandwich. It's around lunch time, and him, Hannah and Quackity are sitting at the table.

"He must be on drugs or something," Quackity jokes, earning a few laughs from the others. Quackity's dark hair hides itself under his beanie that he wears every day.

George wonders why he hasn't gotten dress-coded. Or any weird looks. A beanie sure doesn't look formal, but he figures it matches with his personality.

Maybe he scores a few extra points because it's dark blue, matching his suit. Hannah's suit is rose-coloured.

"Surely," Hannah agrees, chewing on her own sandwich, bringing George out of his trance.

"Why did he need his moms validation?" She asks.

That's when things took a turn yesterday. For the worse, because George had asked Punz exactly that.

"Why do you need your moms validation? You're a grown ass man," George huffs, receiving a sentimental stare back.

He hesitates. He doesn't answer the question directly, but instead, weaves around it like a loose rope tied to a pole. "My dad wasn't around, so she was all I had. I have no siblings," he sits down on the bed and George joins him. The anger in his eyes is definitely still glowing a bright red, but Punz has realised that if he lets his stubbornness take over again, he'll most likely have a bloody nose before midnight — at least.

"She worked a lot to keep us financially stable. She never paid attention to me!" He suddenly shrieks, George wincing at the change of tone.

"That's not her fault," George raises a brow. "She had to."

"But she didn't. She never did. I never got what I wanted. Never."

"I get that, but that isn't an excuse for your.. actions. Look, you have to realise that there is a scategoat in this situation, and it's you!" George states, making Punz' left leg tremble. George pinches the bedsheets and squeezes.

How do you tell someone, in the very battle they're fighting, they are the enemy?

Well, George figures you can't. Atleast not Punz. Maybe Punz is crazy. Maybe he can't help it, because he didn't get raised right.

"He's just straight up stupid," George grieves, all of the energy gushing out of him. When Wilbur knocked on the door yesterday while they were mid-argument, George figured he'd let Punz cool down.

The problem is, that he never got the answer to why Technoblade and Dream were involved. To be honest, he couldn't give two fucks about Punz' past. He understands that he might be mourning it, but how he's dealing with it is another story.

He doesn't give a flying fuck about Punz' sorrows. He wants to send him to jail, he really does, but he wants answers out of him. The real reason.

When George is finished with lunch, he heads to his office. He's got a few days to settle and be back, resulting in the small stack of things he has to sign on his table.

He gives his mom a call. Mum.

He's gotten Americanized in Orlando. He just knows that his mother is gonna jokingly scold him for it.

"Hello?" A woman says through a muffled voice. It sounds like it's windy.

"Hi! How are you, mum?" He beams, excited to talk to his mom. He thinks about his fading accent when he speaks. It's still noticable, to be fair.