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It started around one and a half weeks after their exile. Tommy had gone to sleep quite late after cleaning his weapons and armour, but was woken up by the shuffling of feet.
Wandering upstairs, he saw Wilbur and almost called him out for walking upstairs t three in the morning, but he noticed something. Tommy stopped. Wilbur was asleep.
He was sleepwalking and appeared to be mumbling something.
"Chat... " Wilbur was muttering. "We'll need to get some extra wool for the bed."
The fact that Wilbur was speaking full sentences in his sleep and talking about a... Chat? With who?
"Wilbur. Hey, Will. Wake up, Wilbur." Tommy gently took his shoulder and shook it until Wilbur sputtered and blearily opened his eyes.
"Huh- Tommy? Why aren't we in the ravine?" He asked, rubbing his eyes.
"That's what I want to know. You were sleepwalking, Wil. C'mon, let's go back." Tommy whispered to Wilbur, who nodded. They didn't speak at all during the perilous descent down into their base, and seemingly made a silent agreement to not mention this awkward interaction again.
But that was the first of many.
***
As Wilbur's sleepwalking became more common, Tommy also saw him acting odd during the daytime. Wilbur would clutch his head, muttering, or stare off into space. He would also blankly look to the side and mumble about chats and donations, or argue with himself about L'Ma- Manburg.
Then, after the unpredictable but fierce Techno had joined their resistance, after the festival had been announced, it happened.
Wilbur snapped. He laughed to the skies about blowing the place up. About how everyone wanted to betray them. About ruining the festival while everyone was there, while Tubbo was there up on the podium.
Tommy didn't know what to do. He rode off on his horse, away from Pogtopia and away from Manburg. In the distance, he swore he could still hear Wilbur's manic giggling.
"what do I fucking do, horse." Tommy whispered. He was on the brink of tears. Getting off his horse, he fell to his knees by the river and cried. And what was he to do?
It was early morning before he got back. Tommy was tired and sore. He walked in, sealing the entrance with dirt and descended down the stairs to check in on Wilbur. When he got down, Wilbur locked him in a tight embrace. "I'm so sorry, Tommy. I don't know what came over me."
Tommy stiffened, then relaxed and hugged him back. "it's alright, I know you're stressed and sad." Wilbur clutched at Tommy's shirt, silently crying although it was noticeable in the quiver of his breath when he spoke. "I don't want to blow up Manburg..."
***
Things had gotten weirder after that. Wilbur would disassociate often, or become extremely violent and angry. The residents of Pogtopia dubbed him 'Vilbur' when he did that, and it was becoming more and more common.
Vilbur giggled again, holding Tommy in place by his shoulder. "-And when I said you'll never be president, Tommy, that wasn't a challenge. That's truth." Gleaming, sinister eyes pinned him in place.
Technoblade watched from the side, idly examining his gardening hoe. He didn't admit it, but Tommy could tell Techno was just as creeped out by Vilbur as he was.
With a final pat on the back, Vilbur turned and left. There was a tense silence, and Tommy broke it. "Techno... Will is scaring me."
" ... I know, kid. But I don't think there's anything we can do right now. He's desperate. And desperate people do desperate things." He spoke with the deep knowledge of a college dropout who had researched many an off topic paper.
Tommy walked outside, where he found Wilbur. The man was sitting on some cobblestone, holding his head in his hands. When he exited the base he looked up, revealing tear-stained cheeks and gloomy eyes.
"I don't know what's happening to me, Tommy."
***
It was the day of the Festival, and Wilbur and Tommy had snuck in backstage. Wilbur had rigged the place with TNT to explode when a button was pressed. Tubbo was speaking, and Tommy was begging him to reconsider. Besides, they couldn't find the button.
"Please, Techno is in the audience! And it's Tubbo out there!" He grasped Vilbur's sleeve, desperate to hit something, anything. "And- and- what about Niki?" Recognition flickered in Wil's eyes, but was replaced by hard resentment.
"Hurry up and help me find the fucking button."
Eventually, they found the button. Vilbur gave a too-wide grin, eyes shining with delight. But when he went to press the button, he hesitated.
"No..." Wilbur whispered. He brought his hand back by his side, much to Tommy's relief.
"But it has to burn." His trembling fingers came back, hovering above the button. "No. Yes. No. Yes. No." Wilbur argued with himself, repeatedly pulling back and reaching forward.
"Tommy, Tommy. I have a question." Will held Tommy, with shaking hands. He was crying.
The booming fireworks outside almost drowned out Wilbur's words, but Tommy heard him ask,
"Who am I, Tommy?"