Chapter Text
Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.
Wallter Brickstone laid in his bed, listening to the ticking of the clock on the concrete wall. After what felt like hours, he sat up, rubbing his spherical head.
Me grumbled and glanced up at his clock, it blurry in his bad vision. What time was it? How long had he slept? He reached for his glasses on the bedside table.
He had a pounding headache, he was definitely hungover. He could’ve sworn he only had two cans last night?
He got out of bed and stumbled to his sink, splashing his face with water.
“Oh, look at you Wallter.. what happened..” he mumbled, poking at his eyebags.
He left his bathroom and walked into the living room, glancing at a clock on his way out, it was just after noon. Had he really slept that long? Thank goodness Lampert was with Mark right now.
Mark.
Mannequin_Mark.
He pushed the thought away, he had no business thinking about his ex-husband that morning. Er- afternoon.
He stepped into his kitchen, hearing a metal can rolling on the floor from his foot. He frowned. It was Grey Stuff. He felt guilty.
He looked around, his apartment was a mess. The only clean space was his son’s room.
His son. Poor Lampert.
He swallowed hard, nausea was creeping up his spine.
He bent down to pick up the empty cans, oh god.. when was he gonna get sober..
He started cleaning up his apartment, at least the cans, the rest of his home stayed messy.
“I wanna stay with dad…”
He hear Lampert’s voice echo in his head. God.. why.. Wallter shook it off, he doesn’t need to reminisce on things that will make him upset. Not if it leads to this.
“Please Wall’er… don’t do this ta our boy..”
Wallter shakes it off, stop it. Don’t think about him. You do it again. You’ll drink and you’ll disappear again. Stop it. Stop it. Stop it. Stop it.
!!DING!!
Wallter’s phone lights up, a message notification, pulling him out of his thoughts. It’s from Mark.
He, oddly, doesn’t type the way he talks.
“Where are you? You were supposed to pick up lampert an hour ago.”
Oh NO. Wallter completely forgot today was Sunday, goddamn it! He quickly messaged back:
“I got off on the wrong floor and got stuck. I am on my way now.”
He started scrambling to make sure he was presentable and that the apartment was a tad cleaner. He quickly left his home and stumbled to the elevator.
“Now.. ‘ere is ‘e..?” Mannequin_Mark grumbled, scratching his splintered beard. “Lampert, you okay waiting a little longer? Your Mom got stuck on the wrong floor.” Mark asked, seeing the text from his ex-beloved.
“Uh.. yeah I guess..” Lampert mumbles, he DOES NOT want to visit his other parent, and mark knows it.
Mark pats his son on the back, trying to soothe him. Lampert steps away, not wanting the physical contact.
Finally, the elevator dings and Wallter steps out.
“T’ere you are brick boy! Been waitin’ on ya for while!” Mark laughs.
Wallter kneels down offering a hug to Lampert, Lampert ignores him and goes to wait in the elevator, carrying his backpack and clutching his pillow.
“He’s not big on the contact. Ya know t’at Wall’er.” Mark grimaces. Wallter looks BAD. Is Lampert really safe in his hands..? Mark shakes it off, he trusts his… he trusts Wallter.
“Wall’er?” Mark asks, a bit quieter than normal.
“Yes, Mark?” Wallter is slow to respond, not a good sign.
“When was the last time you drank?” Mark got even quieter.
Wallter didn’t respond. Not good.
Mark watched Wallter step back into the elevator with their adopted son. He feels uneasy, he doesn’t want Lampert to see Wallter drinking. Not ever again. He remembers when Wallter first started getting addicted.
“Wall’er? I really don’ like you drinkin’ so much.. especial-e around the kiddo..”
“Don’t worry darling, I won’t drink around Lampert. Promise.”
He didn’t keep that promise. Not then. Wallter had sworn off of drinking in front of Lampert again recently, but Mark didn’t truly know since he wasn’t there.
Mark worried.. he chewed on the end of a nail as he hopped back to his home.
Lampert and Wallter arrive back at Wallter’s apartment. It’s a fancy seeming place, no one would expect a deadbeat father struggling with a Grey Stuff addiction would live here. It was mostly grey, with the concrete walls of course, with decorative elements of green. This theming was quite intentional and repeated in the rest of the rooms, other than Lampert’s room, of course. Wallter wants his son to express himself however he likes.
Lampert immediately went to his room and slammed the door before Wallter could even welcome him back home.
Wallter’s face fell, he knew Lampert liked staying with Mark more, but does he really dislike him that much? He loves his son. A lot. He just wants the best for him, really.
Oh.. don’t kid yourself, Wallter. This is your fault, it always is.
Wallter shifted uncomfortably and went to lampert’s door, knocking carefully.
“Lampert..? What do you want for dinner tonight?” It was way too early for dinner, only around 2pm, but he wanted an excuse to talk to his son.
“It’s fine, mom. You don’t have to make anything tonight, I can order somthing on delivery.” Lampert grumbled from behind the door.
“No- I insist! I can make something.” Wallter felt that he had to, he needed to spoil Lampert to make up for… making him come here? He wasn’t sure. Maybe him and Mark needed to rework the custody agreement. Lampert wasn’t happy with him.
Lampert.. wasn’t happy. With him.
He knew that! He’s KNOWN that. Why did it hurt so bad right now?
He needed to calm down. He glanced towards the fridge. No.. no. He’s got to ignore it. Ignore. Ignore. Ignore.
A few hours pass and Lampert stays in his room.
Wallter wants to ask again, he wants to give his kid anything he wants. But he knows that what he wants is a functional parent. And that.. is not what he has.
Wallter grabs a can of Grey stuff from his fridge and goes to his room.