MORE REVIEWS & REQUESTS?! You all are going to make me cry, thank you so much!

From I'mWishingforaStarRod: "How about McGucket thirty years ago when he was so guilty he lost his mind?"

Oh no, another trip down into the land of feels... Brilliant! (You're welcome for the last one-shot you asked for, by the way, I am so glad you liked it!) This one will be set before he makes the memory eraser and but after that little incident we haven't learned much about yet. Sorry if I'm a bit vague in the description of his family and the incident and the author, but until we learn more about what happened, I'm trying to keep things a bit vague so we can all theorize together.

Enjoy!

When It All Falls Down

So many lies. Fiddleford ran a hand through his unkempt hair, feeling the familiar shivers run down his spine as the memories swirled about in his head. So many things left unsaid. So many things he should have done - but didn't.

It was too late now. He had left the author, the man he had thought he could trust, and now for the first time in a long time, Fiddleford had no idea what to do with himself. The guilt was eating him alive, tearing into his heart like the razor sharp claws of a bear.

His mother had always told him he would get into trouble due to his curiosity. Curiosity killed the cat! she would say sternly, glaring down at the young boy. You wouldn't want to be that cat, now would you?

He had never felt so small in his life, so weak and pathetic.

What had he done?

Fiddleford swallowed back his fright and glanced at the closed bathroom door, hearing the sounds of his wife and son from the kitchen, making dinner together. He remembered when he had been there too, helping stir the water in the pot (because while he could help create laptops and portals to other dimensions, apparently the inventor was a klutz when it came to cooking). He remembered watching his boy laugh at his goofy antics, his beautiful wife shaking her head as she held back a grin of amusement.

Why did it seem so long ago? It couldn't have been more than a few years, and he had only recently left the author.

He felt his stomach churn and the man lowered his head over the sink, shutting his eyes tightly as he trembled. It was all so wrong. This wasn't supposed to happen, it shouldn't have gone so terribly wrong.

And yet it had.

The man vomited into the sink, praying his wife didn't hear and come to investigate as he slowly let the water run and wash the bile down the drain. He watched the filth go, despite how disgusting it was, feeling his heart sinking with it too.

What have you done, Fiddleford?

A burst of laughter reached his ears, making bile rise to his throat again for a new reason entirely. They sounded so happy without him. Maybe they had been happier when he wasn't here, constantly locked in his lab or the bathroom as regret and guilt consumed him.

"I'm sorry," Fiddleford mumbled, shutting his eyes once more and leaning his forehead against the counter, ignoring how his glasses began sliding off his long nose. "I'll make this right. I'll fix this. I promise."

If only he knew how.

WHENITALLFALLSDOWNWHENITALLFALLSDOWNWHENITALLFALLSDOWNWHENITALLFALLSDOWNWHENITALLFALLSDOWN

It was dark and cold. He felt as if he had been here many times before, but he couldn't quite recall when or why. He could not see anything other than a faint blue light up ahead. Curious, he wondered if it led to the way out.

He hurried towards it, eyes everywhere in the darkness as he tried not to notice the shivers running up and down his spine. Something was wrong. He didn't like where this was going. Something about the blue light felt familiar...but it also terrified him for some unknown reason. He had been here before - why couldn't he remember where he was?

The light suddenly grew blindingly bright and he caught a glimpse of a rope at his feet, slowly inching its way towards the light. A frightening scream arose from the blue glow ahead, and the sense of foreboding grew. He rushed for the rope, intending to pull whatever it was out, but his feet were stuck. He was paralyzed, unable to move a hair from where he stood.

Panic overtook his heart as he gazed into the light and realized a human figure was attached to the rope, coming into view and reaching for him as it screamed. He wanted to move, he wanted to save him, he wanted to end this but he could do nothing. He was useless, helpless, pathetic, heartless -

Fiddleford awoke with a loud scream, clutching his chest with trembling pale hands. He pulled himself up from where he had fallen asleep sitting on the toilet and buried his face in his hands. It was just a nightmare, it was the same as all the others he had been having for a few weeks now.

He had been kicked out of the bedroom due to these terrors, the annoyance and sadness in his wife's eyes as she told him to find another place to sleep haunting his fluttering heart. Thankfully, the bathroom's walls appeared to muffle his screams well so his son didn't wake up. This didn't make him feel any better whenever he had another nightmare though.

Calm down. Think rationally.

How could he possibly be rational at a time like this? After everything he had done?

A low sob escaped Fiddleford's hoarse throat and he gripped the sides of his face as he shuddered. He tried to hold back the turmoil inside but it was no use, as usual. Within minutes, he broke down like a small child, trying hard to muffle his sobs with his hands.

He had been so wrong. He should never have trusted the author.

How could he live with himself after this?

I wish I didn't remember anything that happened, he thought miserably, scrubbing fiercely at his burning eyes.

And in that moment, an idea bloomed from the depths of a poor man's guilt and regrets.

...Kind of short, sorry, but I hope you liked it! Poor Fiddleford. He gives me too many feels on a daily basis.

Any requests?