Come Over (Again)

you can't fake it, that's telling

If Wilbur was honest with himself, he doesn't know why he broke the kid's nose.

He was never a violent kid. Technoblade usually had to stand up for him in most situations, and even then, that wasn't often. When the kids who picked on Wilbur realized he was related to The Technoblade, they left him alone soon after. Wilbur never cared for revenge or justice. He just wanted to get through high school unscathed. So when he broke a kid's nose on the second week of the semester senior year, people were surprised, to say the least.

The fight had happened between the first and second periods, and early enough, they had to wait for Phil to drive all the way from his office. He was waiting in the guidance counselor's office after security dragged him off the bleeding kid. There was a blank white clock above the door, the loud clicking of it repetitious enough to almost be soothing if Wilbur's nerves weren't so high.

Puffy, the counselor, had a painted scene of waves splashing in the ocean hung above her desk; he wondered idly if she just liked the water or if it was supposed to promote a feeling of ease. It just made Wilbur feel a sense of dread in his stomach.

Wilbur shook his leg as the clock ticked before the disheveled blonde man came rushing into the office. "Who's hurt? What happened?" Phil stopped in his tracks as his eyes landed on his son, "You- you don't look injured?"

Miss Puffy gave Phil an apologetic smile, "Actually, your son started the fight, Mr. Watson."

His attention snapped to her, "What? Why? What happened?" Phil turned his gaze to Wilbur's eyes, filled with concern.

Wilbur shrugged, "He made fun of my hair." Phil stared at Wilbur for a beat, then two. Glancing back and forth between him and the counselor before sinking into the chair beside him.

Puffy cleared her throat in the silence, "Seeing as this is his first offense, it won't be going on his school records."

"Thank you," Phil spoke, sighing relief as his eyes fell shut briefly.

"He will be suspended for two weeks. Our campus has zero tolerance for fighting."

"Right, of course." Phil shifted into his chair, entering what Wilbur liked to deem business mode. He saw this a lot when dealing with Technoblade's old social worker. "Wilbur is- this is extremely out of character for him. He's never gotten into fights before."

"Right, that's why I would like to discuss some counseling options." Puffy clasped her hands on her desk, "We want to get to the root of the issue before it becomes a problem."

"Can you stop talking about me like I'm not here?" Wilbur finally snapped, causing silence to fall over the three.

Puffy nodded before shifting in her seat to address the both of them, "My apologies, we just want to make sure you're okay. Wilbur, fits of violence like these are often caused by built-up stressors in life-"

Wilbur rolled his eyes, "It wasn't a fit of violence. I told you he pissed me off, so I hit him."

"You broke his nose, Wilbur." Puffy gave him a soft look as if he was something fragile.

"Yeah." Wilbur answered shortly, "Can I go now?"

Puffy traded a look with his father before nodding, "Yes, this meeting is over."

It had been raining this morning; the sky had finally cleared up in the last hour but still held a gray tone. The concrete was splotchy with water, and the parking lot filled with puddles as they made their way to Phil's beat-up Sedan. He's had the car since before he fostered Wilbur. It was silent between the pair before Wilbur's door slammed shut behind him. Phil held the keys in his hand, considering for a moment before he spoke, "So... Why did you do it?"