Thenotso Ultiwri: I know, but I guess I was tired, so "The Search" became my first and only idea for the chapter. Hmm, all good ideas. I'd say she would look like Gosalyn, with the personality of old Gosalyn. And, no, Dewey wasn't vocal about where he worked. He wanted to be an adventurer, but got stuck in an office job: something he was ashamed of.
Flenners fanfics: Good.
Imagine Coldplay: Yes! Yes! Yes!
DaDweebking: Great to see you here, buddy! And LOL!
Lilbree: Yes ma'am, you are absolutely correct!
Caetlyn: So, I'm assuming you know who Honker is, but not his full name: his name is Herbert Muddlefoot, so, yeah :) I also shortened down "Herbert" to "Bert", so I guess that's one of the first OC's in this story.
Emerald: XDD you know it!
LOLIMDEAD: Well, wait no longer, because chapter is here!
Lets Dewey It: Thank you, thank you, I try ;) And also appreciate your kind words :))
This story is going very well, so thank you guys so much for the support :) Loving your reviews
ooo
3 Years Ago…
"Max! Stop it!"
Dewey couldn't help but grit his teeth when his eyes landed on the flirting pair. Watching through the crowds of people as his roommate happily kissed her neck, his arms wrapping around her waist, pulling her back against him as he chuckled into her ear. Dewey swallowed hard, quickly looking away. Despite the loud party music, his ears seemed tuned into them, vividly hearing every horny whispered promise.
He hated this.
He got up from the couch, and walked into the kitchen area grabbing another bottle of beer, taking a much needed swig. He prayed the alcohol would kick in fast, and he desperately needed it in order to get through tonight's hell.
Every night was hell.
"Hey."
Dewey looked up at the voice and offered Gosalyn a half smile, "Hey."
"You look as miserable as I feel," she stated, grabbing herself a bottle from the counter.
He shrugged a shoulder, and looked back at the party goers, his gaze once again falling on the happy couple. Pain shot through his gut as he watched them slowly kiss, their hands travelling up and down each other's bodies.
Ripping his eyes away, he instead focused on the bottle in his hands.
"I'm allowed to be miserable." he muttered.
"No you aren't," she chuckled. "These are your friends. I'm the 'outsider' here, I'm the one that's supposed to be bored."
He offered her a small grin. "To be honest I've no clue who most of these people are," he admitted his eyes scanning the guests. "They must be friends of friends and all my friends are… otherwise occupied," he muttered as his eyes landed back on the practically humping pair.
"Oh, I get it," Gosalyn chuckled, following his gaze. "Are you upset because Max stole Webby from you?"
"What?" he blinked in surprise, his head instantly snapping towards her.
She frowned, a little taken aback by his reaction. "I just meant that she's not free to hang out with you anymore." He threw her another look, and she sighed. "You and Webby have been best friends for ages, and despite what Lena says, I know it's always you two that hang out together, and you're very close to one another. I just wondered if you were bummed out because you aren't getting to spend as much time with her now she has a boyfriend."
"Oh," he swallowed quickly, fiddling with his bottle label as he tried to calm himself. He could feel her still looking at him, still studying him. "Right, yeah, that's uh it."
"Right," she echoed him, but she sounded like she was putting the pieces of the forbidden puzzle together and he couldn't let her. Suddenly, Gosalyn's eyes widened, and her hand flew to her mouth.
"Dewey, are you—"
"So where's your new boyfriend?" he interrupted, quickly changing the subject, "I haven't seen much of him."
The redhead continued to stare at him for a few beats before sighing, "Me neither," she said, seeming to let the discussion drop, for now at least. "Honker's spent most of the night talking to geeks," she pulled a face.
"You're the one who chose to date one," he joked lamely.
"Dewey," she tried again and recognizing the tone he shook his head instantly, cutting her off.
"You've got it wrong," he said firmly. "Very wrong. Now if you'll excuse me."
He didn't wait for her permission as he quickly moved away from her, desperately trying to join in another group. He could still feel her watching him, her green eyes burning into him, but refused to look in her direction. If he looked in the other direction, there was Max and Webby still going at it, as if they weren't surrounded by all these people.
Dewey closed his eyes, raising the tepid beer to his lips as he felt himself starting to get warm, very warm. Why was it so hot in here? So stuffy? Someone barged passed him, causing him to stumble slightly. The room was definitely getting hotter, suddenly smaller, and the music also got louder; the fast beat of the bass echoing through him, uncomfortably speeding up his pulse. There were swarms of people all around him, the stagnant air hot and suffocating.
He suddenly felt claustrophobic.
He had to escape.
He started to push his way through people, he needed air, freedom.
"You alright, Dewey?"
Webby. Blocking his path. Her hot hand gripped his burning body as she held him in place. Stopping him from leaving; he needed to leave. "Dewey?" she was looking at him funny.
He nodded, not answering as he tried to move past her, it didn't work.
"You sure you're alright, buddy?" Max asked with a frown, "You don't look so hot. Unlike Webby here," his roommate chuckled, pulling her closer to him and further away from Dewey.
"Fine," he managed to choke out although his throat was seizing up, making it hard to get any air into his lungs.
Panic started to rise in him as he struggled to breathe, his skin going clammy and head starting to pound.
He had to get away from them.
Get away from here.
Now.
He managed to pull away from her, stumbling slightly. He saw Gosalyn making her way over to him concerned, but he managed to somehow move quicker, out of the door and into the safety of his own apartment.
He staggered over to the window, his hands fumbling with the handle before finally throwing it open. He closed his eyes as the cool air hit his flushed skin. He focused on his breathing, trying to calm himself and to get his fear to disperse. Eventually the adrenaline slowly started to die down, and he sat on the wooden window frame, leaning his head against the cool glass as his heart started to calm and his breathing evened out.
What the hell was that?
He'd spent the last few months trying to get a grip on this: he'd hoped and prayed that with time, it would ease off. That some part of him would accept that she was happy with Max and that he should be thrilled that she was happy. That he should be grateful that she was in his life, even as just a friend.
But he had to stop kidding himself. It wasn't getting any better, it was getting worse. A lot worse. And he wasn't getting stronger, he was growing weaker, day by miserable day. He didn't know what he'd done to deserve this, but he just knew he couldn't go on like this.
It was time to dig out the white flag, wave it feebly in the air and surrender.
Mercy.
Suddenly the apartment door swung open, letting the party music invade into his quiet solace. He opened his eyes, slamming them shut again as he saw Max press Webby against the kitchen island, kissing her deeply, hands everywhere as he tugged at her top. He could hear her loud groan, and he swallowed hard.
He just wasn't keeping it together anymore and people were starting to notice. He couldn't let that happen. The mask was crumbling, no longer doing it's job. Every minute of his life was now a struggle. Waking up to see her sat in his kitchen in Max's shirt, her long smooth legs wrapped around his waist as she fed him toast. Constantly listening to her and then Max saying how great their relationship was, sharing all these little intimate details that were killing him one by one. Seeing them together all evening, not getting to spend time with her. Then getting to finish the day hearing their laughter and good times through his bedroom wall.
Each day, he was just going through piles of emotions and now he could barely do that. He wasn't sleeping, wasn't eating. This wasn't living. If anything this was self-destruction and he couldn't keep it up for much longer.
He'd tried ignoring it, tried getting passed it, tried distancing himself but it hadn't worked: nothing had worked. Now there was only one coping mechanism he had left: one that he'd learned from his mother specifically. When things got too tough…
Run.
Leave.
As Webby moaned again, a coldness started to fill his veins as realization slowly dawned. He had to leave. Permanently.
Silently he stood up, walking past the amorous couple quickly, and slamming the door before he sat on the step between their apartments, taking a deep breath.
Could he do it? Really just leave? Closing his eyes he listened to the muted party music in one ear and their muted laughter in the other as the coldness continued to spread. Could he actually stoop that low? Just abandon them? Walk out of their lives and never return? Did he have a choice? If he told them they would force answers out of him, try and make him stay. But if he stayed this would destroy him… it already was.
He had to do this.
He heard a door open, the music blasting out violently and he cracked open a heavy eye, watching as his friend closed the door and sat next to him on the step.
"Are you okay?" Gosalyn eventually asked.
"Been better," he admitted quietly. "But I'm okay."
And he would be.
The fear was turning into coldness, the coldness transforming to numbness. Numbness was already starting to mask the pain that had been bringing him down for so long. The weight was gently lifting from his frail shoulders. His decision was slowly spreading a calmness over him, a calm that his soul hadn't felt for months as he realized an end was in sight.
"You seemed in a rush to get out of there…"
"Yeah," he bit his lip, trying to ignore the enormity of what was going on inside his head. "I think I'd had too much to drink."
"Oh please, I remember the amount you drank at graduation."
A corner of his lip curved up for a brief moment but he remained silent.
"Are you sure you're okay?" she asked seriously, "I know I'm not in your little friend group, but I am your friend. I've known you as long as I've known Huey, Louie, and Webby. You can talk to me."
Dewey swallowed shaking his head, he couldn't tell her this, it would get to Max and then Webby… not that it mattered now anyhow. He didn't need to talk to anyone. He had an out, his escape.
"Thanks, but really I'll be just fine."
She ran a critical eye over him, and he shrugged a shoulder, hoping that his new clarity made him appear like he felt lighter, freer than he had in months. It must have as she finally nodded, standing up.
"Okay, good," she offered him a rueful grin. "So are you rejoining the 'fun' or staying out here on your own?"
"I'm good out here," he grinned back. "But, if anyone asks I've hooked up with someone hot."
"Dewey!" she laughed.
"Make that smoking hot," he winked and she smiled.
"Deal. I'll see you later."
He nodded as she left him alone on the step. He stared at the closed door, pondering her words. Would he see her again? Or would he be long gone by then? How long would it take to escape this nightmare? To start a new life and forget about the pain that unrequited love caused?
As more loud noises came from inside his apartment, he knew one thing for sure: he had made his decision. It was the only thing to have felt right since Webby had chosen his roommate.
He had to leave.
And had to leave soon, while there was still enough of him to rebuild.
Present Time:
"Everything alright?" Honker asked, walking into his boss' office, noticing the strange tension immediately. "Gosalyn?" he questioned, placing his hand on his wife's arm, shooting a quick look to his boss then back to her, "You okay?"
"I can't believe it," Gosalyn said, still in a daze, staring at Dewey. "It's really you. Boyd mentioned you'd come back but…"
"Mommy!" Bert tugged at both Gosalyn and Honker's pants.
"I've got him," Honker assured, scooping the child up. "Come on, Bert, let's give them some time to talk. You can show me what you did today."
Dewey watched them leave and the door firmly close behind them.
They were alone. He was face to face with his past. He didn't feel prepared for this, wasn't ready for such an important discussion. Gosalyn seemed to shake herself out of her shock enough to speak.
"I can't believe you're actually here," she admitted, taking the seat beside his desk, her eyes still fixed on him intently.
"Surprise," he managed weakly, as he slowly retook his own seat. So many thoughts were crashing around his mind as his past and present finally met, finally collided into each other and like a car heading towards a cliff without its brakes he could only watch helplessly. He had no idea what was going to happen now. He studied her a moment before summoning the courage he needed to ask, "So, I guess the first question is how much do you hate me?"
"What? No," she shook her head, seemingly surprised by the question. "I don't hate you, Dewey but you really hurt them though." He closed his eyes, not wanting to hear the painful truth. "When we got back after Christmas, and you were just gone, I.. everyone was dumbfounded, couldn't comprehend it. It really hurt them, really confused them that you could do that to them. They were so… devastated, no one saw it coming and he was shocked and…" she trailed off, lost for words.
Dewey shook his head roughly, not ready for this. It hurt too much to hear. He'd left them, he was scum, but he'd done it for their own good as well as his own. They deserved better than him, always had.
"Yeah, well," he swallowed, "I'm sure they were happy when I left." He winced, he hadn't meant for it to sound like that, so harsh, hadn't wanted to try and start a fight. "Gosalyn—" he tried to apologize but she shook her head.
"That's not fair." she defended immediately. "They weren't happy. Something you would know if you had been there," her emotions from years ago coming to the surface. "God, Dewey, it was so horrible and they needed your support… but you weren't there," she swallowed.
Dewey swallowed too. "I know," he admitted quietly, "Sorry, I didn't mean to..." he glanced down, scrubbing a hand through his hair, "I should have been there. I wish I could have been but I wasn't. I was a dumb kid, an idiot and made a stupid mistake, which believe me I hate myself for. But I can't change what I did. It's done now."
Gosalyn studied him.
"You could have contacted one of them over the years," she said quietly, her tone not accusing. "To at least let them know you were okay. They didn't know what had happened to you, not knowing tore them apart."
"I couldn't get back in contact," he dismissed sadly, not mentioning the few times he had called that first year. Every time he clicked off without a word spoken. "No, not after what I did to them. They needed to forget about me and the pain I caused people."
Gosalyn stared at him, shaking her head, "I still can't believe I found you. I can't imagine their faces when I tell them—"
"No!" Dewey yelped abruptly. "You can't tell them you've seen me, can't let them know I'm here."
She shook her head, "They need to know, they deserve to know. I can't agree to that, you can't ask me to do that"
"I can and I have," he said, an edge creeping into his voice.
"You can't stop me," Gosalyn pointed out, not liking his tone.
"Maybe not," he agreed quietly. "But I can control whether Honker has a job tomorrow." he left the threat hanging, but Gosalyn let out a frustrated growl.
"Oh grow up," she exploded. "You aren't a jerk Dewey! You never were, so stop pretending you are."
He sighed, dropping his head and closing his eyes. "I've changed a lot since you last saw me," he admitted quietly. "I'm not the kid you knew from high school or college. I'm a complete and utter bastard that abandoned my best friends, and they didn't do anything to deserve it. I just walked out on them."
"From what I hear, you had a good reason." she murmured.
He froze, his eyes snapping open and nervously meeting hers, "W-what?"
Did they all know? Had they known all these years?
She swallowed, ducking her head as if she hadn't meant to reveal that, "We all knew," she admitted softly. "And she's dying to talk to you Dewey. You have to see her, have to meet up with her, you owe her that much."
He sighed, pulling away from her intense gaze. He remained silent for a while, when he finally did speak it was barely above a whisper, "I owe her a lot more than that."
"Then stop hiding," she spoke just as gently. "Prove you've changed, prove you're sorry and stop putting her through this. You have the power to end it for her."
"It's not as easy as that," he confessed as the insecurities he'd been carrying around for three years pushed their way to the surface. "What if you're wrong, and she doesn't want to see me? What if I hurt her even more by turning back up in her life? I can't hurt her again Gosalyn, I promised myself I never would. I can't do that to her."
The office went silent again as Gosalyn studied the man before her.
"Can I make a suggestion?"
"Please", his eyes were honest and vulnerable, and she really felt for him. He'd been carrying this guilt around with him all these years.
"Write her a letter," she started, continuing despite his skeptical look. "Confess everything to her, all the guilt, all the secrets, absolutely everything. Get it all out on paper, and then give her a way to contact you if she wishes. Then you've done all you can. You've told her everything, there's no surprises or secrets left. You will have given her back the power to make an informed decision. You have to give her the option, Dewey."
He stared at her surprised, "That's actually a pretty good idea". Why hadn't he ever thought of that?
"I have them occasionally," she offered him a small smile. "If you have it ready by then I could put it in their mailbox or something?"
"Okay, yeah I think I can do that," he nodded, still contemplating the idea.
Gosalyn smiled genuinely at him then, her hand reaching out to squeeze his, "Thank you. It will be nice to finally move on from this."
"You think she'll be able to forgive me?" he asked almost timidly, scared of her answer.
"I don't see her as much as I used to, but from what Huey says, she's desperate to see you, Dewey. I was there when you left and it nearly destroyed her. I mean, it affected everyone but Webby… it really got to her. Her and Max broke up and she just withdrew into herself. Now that you're back, I don't know what she feels exactly but I know she needs to talk to you and that you need to talk to her too, regardless of if she can forgive you or not you both need to sort this out, start healing."
"You're right again," he nodded offering her a small grin. "Have all of you got this smart since I left?"
"Yeah, your intellect was really holding us back," she smirked. "After you left, Boyd joined and the IQ of the group shot up."
He grinned, "I've met Boyd."
She laughed and then just stared at him smiling.
"What?" he asked warily.
"It's just good to have you back," she stated. "I've missed you."
With that, she walked up to him, wrapping him up in a hug. Dewey froze, but wrapped his arms around her waist nonetheless. The feeling of hugging someone felt so surreal: it had been ages since he was this physically close with another person. She was a lot shorter than him, and he melted into the hug, gently resting his chin on top of her head. A warm feeling spread throughout his body, and he felt his anxiety about the whole situation Webby slowly die down.
"So… Bert?" Dewey asked, keeping his hands on her hips.
She smiled. "Short for Herbert, Honker's first name. He's two right now."
"I thought I recognized those eyes somewhere." Dewey smiled.
Before Gosalyn could answer, the door opened and Honker stuck his head through, "Hey", he greeted cautiously.
"Hey," Gosalyn smiled at her husband.
"Bert's fallen asleep in the chair," he informed his wife.
"You're a miracle worker."
"I know," Honker grinned, before looking over to Dewey. "I found a couple of errors which brings it down within a 2% margin which is usually within the tolerated level… anything else you need me for?"
"Wow," he blinked. "You, uh really are a miracle worker. I owe you both my thanks. Take the rest of the weekend off."
Honker smiled.
"You'll write the letter?" Gosalyn asked, looking directly into his eyes and holding his stare. "I won't come here on Monday to find you've moved offices and skipped the country?"
"I deserve that I guess," he grinned ruefully. "No, I promise my running days are over. I'll write to her."
"Okay," she nodded before finally breaking her gaze. She stepped forward, and surprised him by pulling him in for another hug.
Dewey watched them leave, his eyes fixed on the door long after they'd left. A letter? He opened his desk drawer and grabbed out a notepad. He stared at the blank paper. He grabbed his pen, tapping it against the pad. How the hell could he start this? How did he try to put down all his many sins into words?
He tapped the paper again, before scribbling 'Dear Webby,' he paused staring at it. Dear? Was that too formal? He'd never been formal with her. Maybe Hi? Could he get away with a 'hi' after what he'd done? Frustrated, he threw down his pen, ripping the sheet of paper from the pad. He balled it up in his hands and threw it across the room in the vague direction of the trash can.
Dewey sighed. It was going to be a long night.
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Andddd we get some insight into Gosalyn and Dewey's friendship :) Until next time!
—Jordan :)
