Chapter Text
The first night in Technoblade’s home was the worst one for Wilbur.
His mind wouldn’t calm down, thoughts swarming and screaming at him how the hybrid he had so willingly trusted was going to backstab him at any time, kill him and his brother, the only family he had. Wilbur had become wary of the older ever since he learned of the other’s heritage, years of being taught what to think about hostile mob hybrids shaping every opinion he had on the man.
Stories about bloodshed, about the rampages those kinds of hybrids went on, killing everything that stood in their way. Stories about how they were not to be trusted, because even if they might seem like it, they were far from being a normal hybrid. They didn’t have the capacity to feel like others do, driven by pure instincts and violence rather than logic. They were monsters.
( But didn’t Technoblade say pyglins didn’t hurt people just because? He wasn’t wearing any gold, but hadn’t been attacked either. And he had held Tommy so carefully)
He had only allowed himself and Tommy to stay with the man because they had nowhere else to go, and the two of them wouldn’t get very far even if they did try to run away. That is, if he even convinced his brother to run away.
His brother, who had no fears like Wilbur did. His brother, who, upon learning Technoblade was a pyglin, seemed to grow in awe of the man, asking all kinds of questions, getting more excited as they were answered. His brother, who was perfectly fine to walk into what could be the home of their murderer. Naive, little Tommy, who was excited to sleep next to his big brother.
The house wasn’t bad, or scary looking at all. It was a nice cottage, small but practical. It had a kitchen, something like a living room with a fireplace, and two bedrooms. Why two bedrooms when it was obvious Technoblade lived alone, thus only needed one, he did not know. But it was in one of those bedrooms that the children found themselves that night, sharing a bed, Tommy fast asleep while Wilbur could only stare at the ceiling.
He was going over the whole day in his head, trying to find any kind of clue that showed the true nature of the pyglin hybrid. Did he like to play with his food first? Or was he planning to use them for something far worse? He had heard some grown-ups back home that hybrids sold well? He didn’t know why they would sell well, or what that even meant, but judging by the way it had been said, it was bad news.
After the “big reveal” nothing much of interest happened. They kept walking for a bit, and stopped to rest right when Tommy finally woke up. Technoblade shared some food with them - some potatoes he had - and they kept walking well until the evening, same as they had been doing before. But now they had Tommy who, the moment he learned Technoblade’s species, didn’t stop asking questions for a second (some didn’t have to do with being a hybrid at all, he was just curious about the man). It was then that they got to the house, and were offered dinner by the man. Mushroom soup, he had said. Wilbur hadn’t paid attention, focused only on trying to get a few spoonfuls past the knot on his throat, in fear of offending their host by not eating. After that, they were shown the room they could stay at.
And there they were.
Eventually, Wilbur succumbed to the gentle lull of sleep, his eyelids heavy from the long day they’d had.
Luckily, he woke up the next morning perfectly fine. Unluckily, his brother was not with him.
He had woken up slowly and well-rested, having slept soundly even if the process of falling asleep in the first place had been rocky. He had sat up in the bed and stretched lazily, stifling a yawn before even noticing something was wrong. He didn't sleep in the same bed as Tommy back in the village, so waking up alone was not something he wasn’t used to. Except he distinctly remembered going to sleep with his brother beside him.
He shot up, standing so quick his vision became blurred for a moment, feet hitting the floor with a heavy sound. He started panicking, scolding himself for trusting so easily that nothing would happen while he slept, for not noticing that it was the perfect time to take his sibling away from him, to god-knows-where.
He had taken Tommy away from him. His only family, the one person he had left, his brother, gone. He had been so stupid, he shouldn’t have allowed Technoblade to convince him it was safe, it’s never safe, and now he was paying the consequences. He had to find the little raccoon, he wouldn’t leave him, he had to get to him and get him back, he had to-
That’s when he heard laughter from outside the room. Tommy 's laughter.
He practically deflated upon realizing that no, his brother wasn’t gone. Anxiety definitely not gone but lessened as he slowly opened the door and peeked out. It led to a hall that led to the main living area and the kitchen. He now could hear Tommy speaking, although he couldn’t yet decipher what exactly he was saying, and if there was any kind of answer.
Walking quietly, he approached the origin of the sound, and there he was. Tommy, sitting on a stool in front of an island that separated the kitchen from the living area, still a short tail moving along as he spoke. It was easy to forget that was supposed to be nocturnal, and that all the sleep he had gotten the last day must have made him wake up far earlier than the other two hybrids.
Nevertheless, Technoblade was in the kitchen making what must be breakfast. It was an oddly domestic picture, mainly because the two of them had known each other for less than a week. Wilbur guessed it was just the effect Tommy had on people, nobody being able to dislike him.
(An important trait to have, especially if you’re a hybrid living amongst humans. Being liked, for whatever reason that may be, is crucial)
And it was standing there, in the entrance of the hall, seeing his brother chatting happily with someone who looked like he was at least half-heartedly listening to him (and he couldn’t blame him, Tommy’s rambles tended to go on very different directions that were hard to keep up with) that Wilbur wondered if that could become normal.