Hitchhike//A DreamNotFound Fanfiction

16|Of Course, Sweetheart|

When it took a little too long for Clay to come back from the car, Wilbur started to get a little worried; he shifted uneasily on his feet, trying to keep his cool composure so he didn't interrupt Karl as he was talking to him. Wilbur shoved his hands into his pockets to keep them from fidgeting, and he only just zoned back into whatever Karl was talking about when he heard Karl ask, "...So... how do you know Clay?"

Wilbur took a deep inhale, bringing the corners of his mouth up into a polite smile; he answered briefly, "...Oh, we just... we have similar... mutuals, and we just hit it off from there."

"...That's just... it's strange, I guess..." Karl chuckled only a little, his laugh turning soft and airy without any driving passion behind it; his tearful gaze finally shifted up to Wilbur's own.

"Why do you say that, Karl?"

Karl shrugged, muttering, "...Clay was in a relationship with George--I... speaking of, I don't know where he went... he was just right here... George that is. And Clay... he was, too..."

"...Clay was supposed to retrieve a jacket from my car," Wilbur mentioned, mostly to try and reassure himself that it was all Clay was doing; he had Clay under his control! What was there to worry about?

...Right?

"Oh! Oh..." Karl nodded, lifting his head backwards in remembrance. "I... I forgot... sorry, I've just been a little... scatterbrained..."

"That's understandable--do you mind if I go and check on Clay?" Wilbur asked out of an anxious feeling that burned in his chest. "I'll be right back, I promise."

"...Yeah, yeah, go on... check on him," Karl waved him off, placing his own hands into his pants pockets. "I don't mind..."

"Thank you, Karl," Wilbur nodded, turning quickly to wander upwards to where the car was supposed to be parked.

"No problem..."

Karl's eyes watched as the tall brunette traversed the hill to where the line of cars were, accompanying it with a sigh. A piece of Karl took into account the fact that both Clay and George were missing from the event--which could only be a strange coincidence, or they ditched the funeral service in favor of running away together. Although Nick and himself had wronged George in the way of getting in between him and Clay, he was still disappointed that George couldn't stay. After all, Nick was only looking out for George's safety and was still George's best friend; or Karl guessed. Maybe George was just so infatuated with this complete stranger that he would ditch anyone he ever knew in favor of him.

Maybe Clay was just worth George's time.

And Karl just... wasn't.

When Karl saw Wilbur rushing back to him with an aggravation in his gait and a fire in his eye, he knew that the ladder of his guesses was correct; George and Clay had run together. They ran so they would never have to see anyone from their past ever again.

They had gone on the run without giving Karl a singular goodbye.

Similar to Nick...

What was he doing wrong that pushed everyone he ever cared about away from him? Why was it whenever he tried to be the best he could be, the worst consequences sprouted from it? All he ever wanted was to make sure that his best friends were happy and content, but all he ever did was continuously upset them with only the best intentions. That same stinging sensation of guilt began to come back to his chest, informing him that all of this was his fault once more.

How many more people was he going to hurt before he was finally going to learn what he was doing so horribly wrong?

"They fucking hijacked my car!" Wilbur exclaimed in a flurry, meeting Karl in the same position that the shorter brunette was still standing in. "Clay and that fucking moron took my fucking car!"