39. Dear George

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'Dear George,

There are things I will never get the chance to say to you. That's why I'm writing this letter. It's my last chance at releasing these thoughts from my head. They have been in here for too long, and if I can't tell them to you, I will save them on paper. Maybe I'll get to tell you them someday, maybe I'll be able to read them out to you. Until then, I'll find peace in noting them down like this.

From the moment I met you that one night, it all became about you. I had been alone for so long, what was it, two years? Two years in which I thought Nick had died, and I couldn't return to the city. Well, look at me now. I'm in the city, and I see Nick almost every day. If you told me this is how things would go, I wouldn't have believed you. I think you wouldn't have either. 

After those two years by myself, in that stupid bunker (remember that place? The couch was so scuffed), I met you. You were out by yourself. I thought you were the dumbest person on planet Earth at that moment, you didn't even carry any weapons. You made me make the best decision of my life that night, though. Everything I did became about protecting you. 

You didn't know anything about that place. Sure, you knew of the existence of The Hyenas, but you didn't know the things they did, the gruesome things that happened outside the wall. Nobody really knows at first, you go in blind. I had to explain it all to you. It scared you. I could tell it did, even when at courageous moments you acted like you didn't care as much. 

George, I swore to myself I would protect you. After what I thought had happened to Nick, I couldn't let that happen to you. 

It was strange at first, suddenly sharing my place with someone else, cooking for two, but it was a pleasant change to get used to. I know now it was never just loneliness. It was never 'just having someone else around'. I liked you immediately, and not for the wrong reasons. God, when you put on my sweater I thought I was going to melt into a puddle, that's how cute you looked. 

We went through a lot of difficult things. Things that hurt, mentally and physically. You called your scar your 'post-apocalyptic look', which I still chuckle at when I think about it. It scared you though. It was the first time you had to hurt someone in order to be safe. I wish I hadn't left you alone there, or that I would have been back sooner, so you didn't need to do what you had to do. You fought yourself through your feelings though. You did it all. 

We all got scars from outside the wall. Karl still has his scar across his nose, Tommy carries his past in his scar that passes by his eye, you know the one I'm talking about. Fundy's leg never returned to its original state. I have my fair share of memories on my skin, too. Like when we removed our chips. God, it hurt to remove it from myself, but it hurt even more to remove it from you. 

Some of us carry more psychological scars than physical. Most of us still try to hide when we hear thunder. I try not to be alone when I know bad weather is going to happen, it still scares me as well, even though I can logically reason it doesn't mean anything within the Safe Border. When Bad and Skeppy returned to the city, it was clear they had a lot to work through as well. Being a Hyena had left its trauma with Skeppy, and Bad had just simply seen too much in all the years he spent outside the wall. Tubbo is still recovering from his trust issues, but he's gotten a long way already. Wilbur returned to his own city. He texts me occasionally how things are going. I'm happy for him he got his best friend back as well. I got Nick, Tubbo got Tommy, and Wilbur got Niki. Who would have guessed, huh? 

Only you never got you best friend back. Losing Eret was so hard for you. But I was so proud of you for how you handled it. You grieved as long as you needed, but it made you so much stronger afterwards. He would have been so proud of you as well. 

We had some arguments out there as well, but I'm not going to recall them in detail. We made up after them, every time. We had our first kiss after the last argument we had outside the wall. That's a moment I will never forget. You kissed me so sweetly, so tenderly. If I try hard enough, I can still feel your lips on mine from sheer memory. 

I try to drown out the bad things with the good that happened. Remember the dandelion field? The first day you saw the place bathed in sunshine, it was such a pretty sight. The sun made you look stunning. It lit up your eyes. You looked so genuinely happy. 

Or what about the sunset we saw on top of the tower? Well, as far as you could call it a tower. I learned that evening that you felt the same way about me, as I did about you. You don't know the amount of butterflies that exploded in my stomach when our hands locked on that little wall. I look back on that memory very fondly. 

Our 'self defense lesson' was very fun as well. I taught you so much that day, and we even managed to have fun in between. I loved that moment. You were so proud of yourself when you got something right. And so was I. God, I was- no, I am so proud of you. 

That last day was the scariest day of my life. I don't know how much you consciously experienced of it all, you seemed completely out of it. I hope you never understood what was happening. I hope you didn't realize you were dying. You said you saw Eret, and all alarm bells inside of me went off. I'm pretty sure you weren't aware of most of the run back to the wall, or the entire time in the hospital. 

I just hope you were at peace that day. Maybe one day I'll get to ask you, and you'll be able to tell me. 

I swore to protect you, and I tried my best. I really did. And I will always continue to do so. 

I love you, George. 

I will always love you.

Clay'


Clay's POV

My pen lands on the desk with a soft thud as I place it down. I fold the paper to fit inside the envelope I have laying ready on the wooden surface. It's well past 2 AM by now, the house is completely dark apart from the little light that illuminates the desk. Silence hangs heavy in the air as I close the flap. That is, until I hear a small voice behind me.

"Clay?"

I spin the chair, looking up at George standing in the doorframe, blanket wrapped around his shoulders as his half lidded eyes look at me in confusion. "What are you doing?"

"I just had to finish something, but I'm done now," I tell him softly, sneakily pushing the envelope in a drawer, so that he doesn't know. "Did I wake you up?" He shakes his head in response.

"No, I just got thirsty and noticed you weren't in bed, so I got a little scared," he responds, and I lift myself from the chair. I take his blanketed body into my arms, hugging him tightly, and he releases a deep sigh onto my chest. 

"I'm sorry, I figured you'd just sleep through it," I mumble into his hair, rubbing his back through the layers of fabric. 

"It's okay. Let's just go back to bed," he tells me, breaking away from my hug and smiling at me. 

I swore to protect him, and I did. I do.

I protect him from the demons inside his head. I protect him from the thunder. It doesn't matter how much it scares me, I will always hold him tighter than he holds me. I will always push my own intrusive thoughts of outside the wall away, when I know he can't handle talking about them. Maybe one day, after all the therapy, after getting used to a new life, we will be able to talk about it. But not now.

He just needs me holding him in bed now. 

So that's what I'll do.

That's how I'll keep him safe, for the rest of his life. 


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