Chapter Text
“Dad?”
“Yes, Wilbur?”
“You won’t get rid of me, right?” Will shuffled, his hands clutching at the frayed ends of that godforsaken yellow sweater.
“Of course not sweetheart, what’s made you think that?”
“Well, the other people, the not nice people that was with before you, they always used to say I could stay with them, but then I’d get upset and they’d send me away again,” he sniffled, his hands coming up to rub at his eyes, wet staining the sleeves of that ratty jumper.
“Well, that was silly of them, wasn’t it? Nobody sane would pass up an opportunity for a Wilbur Hug, would they?”
Wilbur giggled, the sound reverberating through Phil’s chest, before running up and wrapping his arms around his dad.
—
It was so strange to see Techno and Wilbur in that position now.
Technoblade, who refused to touch anyone when he first got here, Technoblade, with enough trauma to shatter anyone, Technoblade, now with his arms wrapped around Wilbur’s middle, burying his face into his shoulder.
Phil stood, shifting his weight between the balls of his feet, for a solid unite before deciding to pipe up again.
“I’m uh, I’m gonna speak with Maggie again, to try and get you an appointment with Wilbur’s councillor.” Phil tried, watching them both flinch at the woman’s name.
“That's it, right? Nothing else?” Wilbur's voice was shaking, barely noticeable, but there.
Phil knew, and he paled. He knew that his son was thinking that he was gonna get sent away again, and he was terrified.
“That’s it, Will, nothing else, I promise.”
Wilbur deflated a little, anxiety stringing him up.
—
It was strange, sure, the sudden difference that Technoblade shone through. Phil didn’t question it, too scared of bringing him back into that headspace he appeared trapped in for weeks.
But the change was brilliant, he smiled, actually smiled at Tommy, at Wilbur, at Phil. (He even made a couple of friends at school, when he was introduced, Dream and Ranboo were their names.)
Phil didn’t need to know, he didn't need to understand what had caused the abrupt (but very much welcomed) change, he just knew that the road to recovery was paved with gold, and they were standing somewhere on the path.
fin.