Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Wilbur wasn’t sure how long he’d been running, but it had been long enough for his legs to shake and his head to pound and the wounds on his arms to go numb. Still, he ran, ran and ran until his legs gave out and he fell to his knees before a hill. Far in the distance, he could still hear the faint sounds of his pursuers, but more concerning was the crunch of approaching footsteps that had been hot on his tail ever since he fled the podium. Wilbur shoved himself up to stand and spun around to face his pursuer – only to be met with the sight of trees slowly being consumed by darkness.

Wilbur held his breath for a moment, waiting for any sign of someone hoping to get the drop on him. When none came he hesitantly turned and began digging out a hole in the hill he’d ended up by. He’d need shelter, shelter from the mobs, shelter from Schlatt’s lackeys, shelter to consider his next move.

His next move. God. What’s he supposed to do? He’s an exile. He had no weapons, no allies, no claim to L’Manberg’s leadership. A little piece of him seethed at the thought. He fought for that nation, bled for it, led it into victory. How dare they elect Schlatt instead of him, how dare they chase him out without a second thought, how dare they-

Wilbur’s communicator buzzed in his pocket and he latched on to the brief distraction. He pulled the device out, his hands shaking from exhaustion and panic. He could barely hold it up, could barely see the message through his blurry eyes.

Tubbo: Wilbur? Where are you?

Tubbo: I’m scared. What do I do?

Wilbur laughed, so acidic and bitter it made him choke. He lingered in the doorway of the hole and stared at the messages numbly. What should Tubbo do? Wilbur didn’t know, Wilbur was a little busy figuring out what he should so. What he even can do. Wilbur’s just been chased out by a nation of traitors. Not a single person tried to stop it, no one followed him, no one stayed by his side, not even Tubbo. The only person who would’ve followed Wilbur into a death sentence like this was already-

“Outta the way dipshit, come on.” The voice was snappy, out of breath, but it still made Wilbur’s heart leap into his chest. “I’m tired, and you’re blocking the door.”

Wilbur dropped the communicator, spun around. “Tommy?”

The same lifeless landscape as before greeted him, and Wilbur swore the open space was suffocating him. He squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head to shake loose the desperate hope clinging there. Wilbur was exhausted, clearly. He needed to rest, to think, to take a breath first before he dove straight into forging new plans, or he’d drive himself crazy. He moved further into the little hideaway he’d dug out and blocked the entrance. He set up a bed and furnace and laid down.

He’d hoped the silence would invite sleep, that it might drive away the lingering whispers of that voice. But as he lay in the dark there was nothing to distract himself from the scene that kept playing in his mind, over and over. Cursed words falling from Schlatt’s- President Schlatt, his mind corrected contemptuously- lips, heads and weapons turning toward him in a heartbeat, his friends standing still as Wilbur fled, alone, into the mob-infested woods, arrows whizzing by his ears, and without a scrap of armor to his name.

It’s not fair, he wanted to shout. Wilbur wished he was younger, young enough to throw tantrums and scream and wait for somebody else to fix his problems for him. It wasn’t fair, and Wilbur was so tired, and the hole was so cold. He shouldn't even be hiding in a dirt hole, he should be up on that stage, cheering with his allies and citizens. He had fought for that country, had sacrificed blood, sweat, and so many tears. He gave up everything for it, everything, even-

“Fire!” Two arrows whistling through the air, one missing, one hitting its mark. Wilbur’s little brother’s body clutched in his arms, blood soaking through his suit and skin, Wilbur rubbing his skin raw at the riverside desperate to get its damning presence off of him. Fundy prying three discs from his fingers, Dream holding out a letter that never should’ve been delivered, Wilbur crumbling because he can’t take this too, the bastard already took his brother he can’t take the memories he left behind too, he cant, he can’t-

Wilbur rubbed his eyes harshly as if that could chase the vivid memories away. He’d given up everything for that country, he couldn’t lose it. He wouldn’t.

Wilbur heard a cheer fill the cramped room at his silent decision. He kept his eyes closed for now. He wanted so badly to pretend the noise was real.

“We’ll get it back Wil, just you wait. We’ll show them.”

“Yeah Toms,” Wilbur murmured, thankful for the darkness that hid reality from his frail mind. “We will. I’ll get it back, for us. For you.”

The promise felt right. Wilbur knew he’d made the right decision. Tommy would want to see him in charge. Tommy would want to see L’Manberg liberated once more. Tommy would stay by his side, even if everyone else turned their backs on him.

Finally finding comfort in the thought, Wilbur turned over and fell into a restless sleep.

Chapter Text

Whatever peace Wilbur had found the night before vanished into the morning air. His sleep had been fitful and short, and now that he was awake and alert his revelation before bed seemed far out of reach. With sinking spirits, Wilbur sat and sorted through his meager supplies. Things looked grim. He had next to nothing, his base was a literal hole in the ground, and he had no allies to fall back on. Sure, Tubbo and Eret had reached out to him, and maybe Niki had promised him she wouldn't follow Schlatt’s agenda, but he couldn’t risk it. Wilbur didn’t know who he could trust, maybe no one.

Wilbur imagined the bed dipping beside him. He kept his eyes fixed on the supplies so he wouldn’t have to acknowledge the emptiness of the space there. It felt nice to pretend, for just a few minutes, that the voice and the weight belonged to a living boy. It felt nice to pretend he wasn't alone.

“Is that it? This sucks man, we can’t take Schlatt down with this!” Wilbur hummed his acknowledgment, closed his eyes and imagined the scowl Tommy would be pulling as he said this, even as the sight made his whole being ache with a grief he’d thought he’d been managing.

“It’s what we have,” Wilbur gently admonished, cringing a little from his mind’s whispered reminder of there is no we here.

“Well, ask Tubbo for some shit then! He’d help, I bet. Or,” Wilbur could hear the infectious smile through Tommy’s voice, and it took so much restraint not to turn to face it, and ruin the whole thing by accident. “we could invite the Blade. Get him to stab ‘em for us.”

Wilbur smiled softly at Tommy’s nickname for their brother. He tried not to think about the last time he’d seen Techno in person- A warm house that once meant home and safety, sobered by the sound of somebody’s sobs. Forcing words past numb lips, because news this heavy couldn't be delivered in a letter. A selfish childish piece of him hoping he’d be scooped into his family’s arms, to be held in and cry in and be told it wasn’t his fault even when every inch of him knew it was. That hope being crushed as Wilbur’s back slammed into a wall, as a sword pressed to his throat in silent accusal. Phil’s blank face, looking at the scene but not seeing. The way that sword shook like it was in the hands of a child, Wilbur sliding his gaze up past its hilt to meet its owner’s eyes. Wilbur wasn’t sure the last time he’d seen Techno cry, he couldn’t look away from the tears tracking his brother’s cheeks. His brother said something but was drowned out by the buzzing in Wilbur’s ears, the sting of sword pressing into flesh, the clatter of metal hitting the ground-

Wilbur shook his head, harshly. “No,” he said. “I don’t trust him.”

Wilbur felt a pang of guilt at the thought of Tommy catching on to the rift his death had caused between them – and that’s just it, his mind screamed at him, he’s dead, this isn’t real – so he hastily tacked on; “He’s American. Can’t trust Americans.”

He could almost see that dumb little scowl Tommy’d wear whenever someone teased him, and it hurt to stop himself from looking. “Well, just consider it,” Tommy insisted. “We could use the help. Plus, it’d be epic.”

“Right, if you say so Tomathy. I’m not going to listen to a- to a child.” Really, he wasn’t listening to anyone at all. There was no one there to speak to him or hear him, just Wilbur and his own crumbling sanity. “I’m going back to L’Manberg to see if I can grab more supplies. And maybe… maybe I’ll try contacting Tubbo too, okay?”

He imagines Tommy’s audible scoff as he moves closer to the door, but when Wilbur finally risks a glance over his shoulder he finds nothing but an empty room. He tells himself not to be disappointed and pretends that it works.

Wilbur walked toward what was once his home, growing slower and quieter as he approached and memories of the chase played fresh in his mind. Then he crested a hill and spotted the walls of his beautiful nation scraping the sky- walls that should’ve been much higher. Caution thrown to the wind, Wilbur scrambled closer to the top of a hill to get a better look at a sight that made his stomach churn.

L'Manberg's mighty walls crumbled before Wilbur’s very eyes. He remembered placing those stones alongside the same people who now diligently tore them down. His heart squeezed painfully when he spots Fundy working at a pace too efficient to belong to someone reluctant to complete their task. Something in the back of his mind felt satisfied, almost gleeful, as understanding filled a void of naivety he hadn’t even realized was there.

He slid his gaze past the traitor fox to mournfully soak in his nation in it’s purest form for the last time. Landmarks rose from the ground, remnants of happier times, sparking visions that clouded his eyes and made his head pound. Clapping and laughing as Fundy emerged in his special uniform, Eret and Fundy teasing a shrieking Tommy as they hauled stones up the wall, steering Tommy and Tubbo into bed after a hard battle, holding Tubbo and Fundy against his sides as they laid a boy too young for war down into the ground he helped emancipate.

It was a bittersweet moment until his eyes landed on Tommy’s grave and the world turned sour. Tommy had been buried near the wall in what had become one of the loveliest and most often visited spots in L’Manberg, beneath the tree he and Tubbo would climb when they pretended they were boys and not soldiers. The bright flowers Tubbo and Niki had so tenderly cared for were coated in dark dust from the construction above, several of them squashed by falling stones. The trees branches protected the gravestone from the bits of rubble for the most part but even from a distance Wilbur could see pieces chipping off at the edges.

Wilbur’s blood boiled. How could their friends allow this to happen? No one but a traitor would stand by and watch this happen. And Schaltt, what right did Schlatt have to erase history? To treat a young boy’s sacrifice so carelessly?

Wilbur grit his teeth and stepped forward, ready to march straight into L’Manberg and kill Schlatt himself, even if it cost his own life to do so. But then he felt the ghost of a touch brush his sleeve, his mind playing memories of lanky fingers wrapping around his wrist. Wilbur’s breath caught in his throat and he turned to look directly into wide blue eyes.

“Wilbur,” Tommy’s voice trembled as his gaze slid away from Wilbur’s to the sight before them. “They're- they’re tearing down the walls.”

Wilbur was choking. He couldn't breath, he couldn't- it had been so long since he saw that face, so long, he-

“Schlatt can’t get away with this, Wil. I’m going down there-”

Wilbur’s eyes snapped back toward L'Manberg, crawling with people, with enemies. “No Tommy, we have to be patient and-” He looked back towards the boy, expecting to have to hold Tommy back from running in recklessly. His heart sank when he was met with open air once again.

He rubbed his temples. “Bloody hell,” he murmured, “I’m going crazy. Okay, okay. I’d better- okay.”

Sighing, he cast one last look at the walls of his home before turning to return to his lonely little hole in the ground. He could deal with the ghost plaguing his mind when L’Manberg was free. For now, there was work to do.

Chapter Text

Tommy wouldn’t leave Wilbur alone, and it was driving him nuts. He wasn’t sure what he’d done to deserve it – aside from getting your own brother killed, a cruel voice whispered in the back of his mind – but Tommy kept reappearing. It wasn’t that Wilbur didn’t want to see him, it was just that it hurt so much, especially when he looked so real, so real that sometimes Wilbur imagined he could actually feel him when their arms brushed. Part of him started to wonder if Tommy real was there beside him, but that couldn't be right. Could it?

Days passed of just Wilbur alone – Wilbur and Tommy? - digging out a base of operations for himself. With each day, the shock of his situation dwindled further and the hope that Tommy was still by side grew. It confused him, how could it not? Tommy had been dead, Wilbur was certain of that. But Tommy had always been so loyal and so stubborn, it really shouldn’t surprise Wilbur he’d refused to stay dead knowing his brother needed his help. Wilbur grew more and more certain as days passed, and Tommy, just Tommy, was beside him every step of the way.

When Wilbur found the ravine Tommy was there to race past him, climbing down the steep stone walls with noisy shouts and clumsy hands that sent him sprawling on his back at its base. When Wilbur made plans, Tommy stood and fed him suggestions that were undeniably stupid and distracting, but after months of silence Wilbur couldn't complain about hearing his voice. When Wilbur dug, Tommy cheerfully boasted of his adventures into Wilbur’s ear. When Wilbur made food, Tommy snatched pieces from his hand, snickering and sloppily shoving it into to his mouth, only to be spewed back out alongside childish taunts. It felt so natural, so real. Tommy was always by Wilbur’s side and Tommy, Wilbur realized, was the only person he could trust to stay there.

It was nice having another pair of hands around to help with the digging, even if Tommy’s progress crept along slowly. It was fine, Tommy must be tired, Wilbur reasoned. Wilbur was tired to, he barely slept, though when he did it was with Tommy curled beside him as Wilbur drifted into the most peaceful slumbers he’d had in months.

It was just Wilbur and Tommy for a few days but Wilbur didn’t really mind. Every time he went back to see L’Manberg the memories got more painful as the reality sunk in, that every single person within those walls was a dirty traitor. Luckily he was able to quell his own anger by soothing Tommy’s. He couldn’t let the boy charge recklessly into a fight, he could get hurt. And Wilbur couldn’t risk losing him again.

Sometimes that thought stuck out to him, ‘lose him again.’ Wilbur had lost Tommy. Tommy had died and Wilbur had held his baby brother in his arms as the life faded from his eyes. He’d been gone, so how was he here? How had he come back? Wilbur had tried asking, once, but Tommy had just laughed.

“What’re you on about bitchboy? Nobody can get rid of the great Tommy Innit that easily!” Tommy had claimed and, well, he was right. Tommy was alive and who was Wilbur to question it, Wilbur who’d been so dreadfully alone and so thankful to see him. It soon became habit to bury the confusing memories in his mind, and it was easy when it was just Tommy around, talking so loudly and smiling so brightly.

Things got harder when Techno showed up. Wilbur had heard noises beyond the dirt covering their little haven and had crept outside, instructing Tommy to wait down in the ravine. He was expecting a zombie, or maybe even Schlatt. He wasn’t expecting a red cape and pink hair standing out against the woodsy backdrop he was tying his horse to.

Wilbur froze when Techno turned to face him. For a moment neither of them said a word, the memory of their last interaction painfully fresh and that’s right, the last time they saw each other Wilbur had told Techno he’d gotten their little brother killed and Techno had pointed a sword at his throat and Phil had been crying and Wil’s whole world had been crumbling apart-

Techno cleared his throat, looking as uncomfortable as ever. It hurt a little, Techno used to relax when he had Wilbur by his side. “Wilbur.”

“Techno.” Wilbur narrowed his eyes, peered over Techno’s shoulder. He couldn’t trust Techno, he couldn't trust anyone. “What’re you doing here? How’d you even find me?”

“Uh- somebody told me you needed help.”

“Someone like Schlatt?” Wilbur hissed. In the back of his mind he wondered if Tommy had sent him a letter. But that couldn’t be possible, because the last time they saw each other it was to break the news that Tommy was dead, how could Tommy have sent him a letter? How could Tommy have been by his side these past few days? And wouldn’t Techno be demanding to see him if he knew their brother was alive and well?

“What? Nah. I’m just here to- y’know. Cause anarchy. Heard you were overthrowin’ a government.”

“Sure,” Wilbur’s voice sounded flat even to his own ears. “Well I’m doing just fine on that front. You can go.” Techno couldn’t be trusted. Especially not with how things were between them – A sharp blade pricking against his throat, drawing blood as he struggled to breathe past his tears, the clatter of metal hitting the floor, a red cape sweeping out of the room without a goodbye, Phil gathering Wilbur into his arms as a part of Wilbur wishes his brother were strong enough to make good on his threat -

“Wilbur,” Tommy groaned and bumped his shoulder into Wil’s. “Come on, it’s Techno! We can trust Techno, and we need his help anyway.”

Wilbur’s eyes widened and he glanced between Tommy and Techno. He waited for Techno to react to Tommy’s arrival, but all he did was continue to awkwardly stare just slightly to the left of Wilbur’s head.

“Look,” Techno started. “I’m already here, and I want to help. Let me at least help get you set up ‘fore I go, okay? I can’t- I don’t want-” He closed his eyes and breathed in deeply, looking like he was struggling. “We’ve got to stick together, as brothers or whatever. That’s what he’d say, right?”

Wilbur wasn’t sure if ‘he’ was Tommy or Phil, but he was too shell shocked to do anything but nod. Techno followed his worried gaze toward Tommy, and Wilbur held his breath once more- but all Techno did was quirk his eyebrow at him questioningly.

“Wilbur?” Tommy seemed to have caught on to Techno’s lack of acknowledgment and glanced between them. “Why can’t Techno see me?

“I don’t know,” Wilbur muttered.

“What?” Wilbur looked back at Techno, who’d been crossed his arms. “So is that a yes?”

Tommy sent him a pleading look. “We really need his help Wil.”

Wilbur sighed. “Fine. I don’t trust you, but fine.” He spun around and went into the hole, not bothering to check Techno’s reaction. His mind was buzzing with questions. Techno couldn’t see Tommy, but Tommy was real and alive, he had to be, right? But if Techno really couldn’t see him...

Tommy pat his shoulder, smile uneasy. “Maybe it’s just a prank, he can probably see me and just doesn’t wanna admit it cause he can see what an alpha male I’ve become!” Distantly, Wilbur wondered how Tommy knew what he was thinking.

Wilbur kept an eye on Techno, who was looking around their little home in the ravine and mumbling about a farm, but he was speaking quietly to the teen beside him. “That doesn’t sound like Techno.”

Tommy frowned. “What, you think something’s wrong with him? He does spend a lot of time without sleeping.”

“I’m not sure. Maybe just be careful around him for now.” He ruffled Tommy’s hair and was relieved to feel familiar softness. Definitely real.

Tommy frowned but nodded and turned to continue digging out the tunnel he and Wilbur had been working on. Wilbur relaxed and watched him for a moment before turning to sulk off after Techno. He’d have to keep an eye on his other brother. It was risky just letting him in here, but Wilbur admitted they needed the help,. Still, that didn't mean Techno would gain any trust from Wilbur. No one would.

Wilbur would never make that mistake again.

Chapter Text

The tension between Wilbur and Techno was thick, nearly as thick as the silence that hung over them all day. The two were hard at work most of the time and Tommy kept disappearing to visit Tubbo, who had recently offered to be Pogtopia’s spy. Wilbur didn’t buy the spy bit, but he’d play along for now if it meant Tommy could run off and just be a boy for once with his friend. Wilbur was glad Tommy had motivation to leave the ravine now, though the silence was absolute with him gone and his absence was filled by a hazy sort of dread in Wilbur’s head.

Wilbur felt crazy when Tommy left. He had to focus wholly on the task of mining or else he’d lose himself in a misty maze of worry and guilt. The awkward air between him and his other brother didn’t exactly help him relax either. The two rarely talked outside of planning and Techno still hadn’t acknowledged Tommy’s existence. Wilbur opted not to ask him about it. Something was clearly up with him, and who knew what could make an unstable man snap.

The silence hurt, a little, but Wilbur knew it was for the best. Techno couldn’t be trusted and Wilbur honestly had no clue where they stood anyway. They’d yet to discuss their last interaction that hung over them like a heavy fog and well, it was Techno, Wilbur doubted anything would come out of that conversation without some painful prompting. A part of him wished he could ask Phil for advice, but Wilbur hadn’t answered any of his letters or calls in months, and writing to him now felt wrong, somehow.

Wilbur kept an eye on his brother as they worked through the days. A small piece of him was relieved to have Techno with him despite the uncomfortable quiet and the knowledge that Techno probably still hated his guts. But Wilbur prided himself on being a smart man, a wise man. He knew to trust the instincts that had gotten him through a war and out of deadly election, he knew when to close his eyes and listen inwards. And something inside him, the part coiled tight and dark in Wilbur’s chest, whispered to him to remember, to think, to understand what should have been obvious – Wilbur didn’t need anyone but Tommy, he could trust no one but Tommy, could have no one but Tommy. That piece of him couldn’t wait for techno to leave and urged Wilbur to keep his distance. And Wilbur, ever the wise man, listened.

But wisdom didn’t make him strong, and Wilbur had always had a soft spot for Tommy, though really, he should have cut that habit off a long time ago. Giving in to Tommy could end so poorly, as poorly as Techno’s arm broken in a prank or all of Phil’s shirts dyed indigo in an art project, or a body laying unmoving on the wooden planks of a pathway, a scream that sounded so distraught that Wilbur barely recognized it as his own- So when Tommy asked (demanded, really) him to try to smooth things over with their brother, Wilbur had caved. He started offering Techno extra rations at dinner, stopped going out of his way to avoid brushing arms when they passed in the narrow ravine walls, attempted to start conversations when they mined in the same area. The conversations rarely lasted long, both parties at a loss for what to say, and Wilbur could only bring himself to do so much. Wilbur still worried he’d anger the man who he was sure already hated him, and then he’d lose Techno to Schlatt’s side too, and the brother he once trusted with his life would become just another name on a long list of traitors.

For awhile nothing changed despite these efforts, and Wilbur would apologize nightly to Tommy as they fell asleep. Then, something changed, a shift in the air, a hesitancy in the way Techno moved. He wanted to say something, Wilbur could tell, but Wilbur had long since lost the right to pry, so all he did was wait.

Techno skipped his morning potato farm care to help Wilbur mine out the tunnel Tommy wanted to build. Wilbur had asked Tommy why he and Tubbo didn’t just dig it out themselves, but Tommy scoffed and told him he was too tired. And well, Wilbur had seen the physical and mental toll their exile was taking on the boy and guilt welled up in his chest at the thought of arguing, so he resigned himself to working on it in his rare pieces of free time. It was slow going but Wilbur didn’t really mind if it took forever to build. It was a bad idea anyway.

Techno usually spent his time gathering resources of his own or working on the farm but he must have picked up on the extra time Wilbur spent on the tunnel. He’d asked Wilbur about it, and when Wilbur mumbled something barely audible about Tommy Techno had sighed and picked up a pickaxe as well.

The two were working on that same tunnel the day things changed, side by side. Wilbur didn’t miss the way Techno’s pickaxe fumbled every now and then. He wasn’t sure when he’d last seen Techno sleep. Wilbur’s own weary body reminded him Techno could probably say the same of him.

Wilbur stopped mining and leaned back against the stone wall, fixing Techno with the same dead eyed stare that used to send both him and Tommy into helpless snickers whenever Wil delivered a joke with it. “Techno,” he asked. “Why are you helping me?”

Techno stopped moving completely but didn’t turn to face him. Silence dragged on for a few sharp seconds as Wilbur watched him breathe in and wondered if he was still allowed to reach out to his own brother.

“Will,” Techno paused uncomfortably, reached up to scratch the scar he’d told Wilbur was the first one he ever got, back when the two brothers shared secrets, back when they didn’t have a corpse-wide chasm between them. “I’m not… I’m no good at conversations. So...”

Techno swallowed hard and finally glanced over his shoulder at Wilbur. There was a rare look in his eyes, a pleading sort of look he only ever got when he was silently asking Wilbur to help him out around talkative strangers. The sort of look he got when he needed Wilbur to understand, to help him find the words he desperately wanted to say. Their eyes met and the pieces clicked in Wilbur’s head.

An apology. That’s what this was. An olive branch, extended by the man best known for waging war.

Wilbur’s hands shook as he picked his tool back up and went back to hacking away at the stone. His throat felt tight and his eyes watered for the first time since Tommy died. He’d cried so much back then he hadn’t thought he’d be able to muster tears for another decade. But sure enough, there the tears were, as real as the gentle warmth that had nestled in his chest, taking root among the bitterness and fear. A small smile slipped onto his face.

“I get it,” he said, and it felt good to speak honestly again. “Thanks. Can we... can we be okay again? You and I? I- I miss being brothers.”

Techno nodded, and Wilbur caught the way the tension eased out of his shoulders as he turned and returned to work. Wilbur watched him with a growing smile, familiarity clearing away a spot for itself in the midst of a landscape of distrust. Tommy stayed gone, yet for the first time in awhile Wilbur felt alive, like he could see colors clearly and hear sounds fully, like he wasn’t one lonely fish in a terrifyingly empty pond, like the haze that hung over his mind had finally begun to clear away.

Maybe there was room for trust here, in Pogtopia’s sturdy walls. Maybe it didn’t have to be just him and Tommy after all.

Chapter Text

For awhile, things got better. The tension between Wilbur and Techno dwindled and they started to slip back into the way things used to be between them. Tubbo started dropping by to help out when he was able to, and though Wilbur was wary of the boy it was still nice to have the place feel a little more full. With the boost in manpower and morale, construction on Pogtopia was going better than ever.

Pogtopia. Wilbur couldn’t help but smile a little whenever he heard the name. The new nation was quaint enough to tide them over for the time being, and the name seemed to fit it well enough. Tommy had suggested it one night and Wilbur had echoed it to Techno, whose expression took on a sad ghost of a smile. He’d mentioned something about how Tommy would’ve liked the name and Wilbur and Tommy had shared a glance over his head. Wilbur had rolled his eyes, but Tommy looked oddly worried. Wilbur hated it, but Tommy would just have to become resigned to the fact that something was wrong with Techno, like Wilbur had. No matter how odd Techno’s behavior was, Wilbur wouldn’t let it get to him. He knew Tommy was real and alive, and Tommy did too, and that was all that really mattered. And sure, maybe it was strange that Tommy disappeared whenever Tubbo came to deliver intel, and maybe Tubbo never mentioned their adventures to Wilbur. But Wilbur could easily brush that off as the two having a fight. Boys have fights, right?

So everything was going well. Wilbur was almost satisfied with what he had. It was no L’Manberg, but he had his two brothers and Tubbo, and well, it felt like more than he’d had in a long time.

Bu then things got bad. Really, really bad.

Wilbur had been content to brush Techno’s behavior off as being sleep deprived or the result of suffering a blow to the head. That was why he wouldn’t acknowledge Tommy outside of bittersweet anecdotes, surely. Even Techno’s dry humor and poor social skills wouldn’t let him stoop so low as to pretend Tommy was still dead as a joke. Yet it became increasingly clear that that was exactly what it was; a horrid, drawn out joke – because Techno had gotten Tubbo in on it too.

It started as a good day. Wilbur woke up beside Tommy, who whined about sleeping in five more minutes, and Wilbur had headed to work humming a little tune. Techno had even humored him by humming along when he crossed Wilbur’s path on his way to the farm. It was nice, it felt comfortable. The fog around Wilbur’s head felt a little heavier than usual, but he was prepared to endure it with a smile for the day. After all, Tommy had loudly announced he wanted to spend the day with Wilbur, and Wilbur would never pass up that opportunity. He was glad to see Tommy with more light in his eyes. His spirits had been down recently, which Wilbur suspected was due to the combined stress of their exile from L’Manberg (Manberg now, Wilbur reminded himself, and it made his teeth grind.) and Techno continuing to ignore him, so Wilbur was more than happy to let the blond work alongside him. Tommy wasn’t even deterred when Wilbur mentioned Tubbo was stopping by later. He actually brightened instead of wandering off like he usually did. Wilbur was relieved the two of them seemed to be back on speaking terms, he hated to see friends fight.

Tubbo arrived about midday, a little out of breath and dressed in that suit that Wilbur couldn't stand to look at without the buzzing in his head drowning out all his thoughts. Wilbur fixed his gaze to the left of Tubbo instead and raised a hand in greeting. “Hello Tubbo.”

“Tubbo!” Tommy shouted and bounced to his feet. Wilbur shot the teen an amused look, but Tommy didn’t pay Wilbur much mind.

“Hello!” Tubbo chirped. He approached Wilbur and held out some paper and supplies for him to take. “Here Wilbur, this is all I have today. Anything I can help with? Maybe I could neaten the tunnel up a little?”

Wilbur smiled and patted the top of his head. Tubbo had always been such an eager hard worker. It was charming, but more importantly it made him useful. Today though, today was a good day. They could sacrifice a bit of hard work to let the boys have fun and be kids for the day. “No, Tubbo, thank you. How about you and Tommy go out on your own today? Just get some fresh air in the woods.”

Tubbo’s tired smile froze on his face and he stared at Wilbur with confused, pained eyes. From somewhere behind him, Wilbur could hear the sound of Techno’s mining falter.

“That sounds great! Come on Tubbo, let’s go wreck some shit.” But Tubbo didn’t so much as flinch, or even slide his eyes toward his friend. When he spoke, his voice was strained.

“Tommy? Wilbur, you know that he’s...” Tubbo’s voice trailed off into a soft whimper. Wilbur could see Tommy frowning over his shoulder.

Wilbur’s eyes narrowed and he pointed at Tommy, who had crossed his arms and was shifting his gaze around nervously. “What are you talking about? He’s right there.”

Tubbo looked toward where he was pointing and an uneasy expression fell across his face. “But… Wilbur, there’s nothing there? Tommy… you know that Tommy is….”

“No, he’s… he’s….” Wilbur stared at Tommy’s indignant expression, but before his very eyes the sight was blending with a memory, a memory of – blood pooling onto wood, wordless gasps leaving breathless lips, watching a casket be lowered into the ground, gripping precious discs, Techno's hands shoving him away-

A heavy hand fell firmly on his shoulder, its owner’s dry voice making Wilbur flinch. “Wilbur, I think it’s time you get some rest.” Techno hesitantly flicked his gaze to Tubbo, who was staring at Wilbur open-mouthed. “Hey uh, kid. Just head home for today.”

“But maybe I should-”

“Wilbur? What’re they talking about?” Tommy’s voice was loud, loud enough to drown out the two other voices, loud enough to drown out the thoughts clawing through Wilbur’s mind. He focused on that voice, let its frustration and irritation flow from the words into him.

He shoved Techno’s arm off him roughly. Techno blinked at him slowly but made no other moves.

“What the hell are you talking about? Is this- is this some kind of joke? He’s right there!” He gestured at Tommy, only barely catching the way Techno jerked his head at Tubbo towards the exit. A laugh bubbled out of Wilbur's chest. “Is that what this is? A joke? it’s not funny. It’s not funny!” Wilbur couldn’t seem to calm down, and Tommy’s continued questions in the background only goaded him on.

Techno grabbed his shoulders and squeezed slightly. Wilbur’s blood roared in his ears. How dare Techno touch him when he had the audacity to pull such a twisted prank? “Look at me Wilbur. This- Tommy isn’t here. He’s-” his voice caught briefly, and Wilbur latched onto this pause, it’s proof, he’s faltering, he’s lying, it’s proof. “He’s dead. You know he’s dead. I know you remember our fight, so snap out of it!”

Wilbur reeled back like he’d been slapped. His head hurt so much, and it only ached more when he caught sight of Tommy holding back tears over Techno’s shoulder.

“Well- yeah, but- but he’s- he’s better now, he got better, he’s alive! You’re upsetting him Techno, stop lying!”

“Wilbur? Why’s he saying that? I’m alive, Wil- Wil why won’t he look at me, why won’t you look at me.”

“I’m trying Toms, I’m trying-” Even though it made his head hurt he tore his gaze to Tommy, Tommy with an arrow piercing him through, Tommy in his arms, gasping for breath. Tommy whose tears are mixed with sweat and grime, Tommy who isn't moving, Tommy-

“Wilbur, Tommy isn’t here. Look at me Wilbur, do you understand that?” Wilbur shook his head vigorously and Techno grit his teeth. “Wilbur, fucking look at me! Tommy is dead, he isn't coming back!”

Wilbur’s head hurt so much. Techno was telling him to look him in the eyes but his sight was glued onto Tommy, Tommy who was crying, tears mixing on his chin with the blood that leaked from his mouth. The fog around his head circled in closer, thicker, persistently, it filled his head and mouth and lungs and he couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, Techno’s hands scalded his skin through his clothes, and this, this must be what it feels like to realize the whole world is against you-

“Get away! Fucking – get the fuck away from me, traitor.” Wilbur took a step back, then another, and with each movement a little more air forced its way past the fog to curl shallowly in his lungs. “I don’t want to hear another venomous little lie from you or we’re finished.” He laughed, a low and shaky sound that spiraled quickly into a wheeze. “I don’t need you Technoblade. We don’t need you. So consider carefully how far you’re willing to take this little joke. I’m getting some fresh air.”

Wilbur turned and stormed up the steps of the ravine, not stopping until he hit sunlight and a cool breeze. Footsteps echoed over the stone behind him, and Wilbur turned sharply, fists balling so tightly he felt his nails pierce his skin. But before he could scream at Techno to leave him alone he found himself with an armful of Tommy, solid and shaking and real, dammit.

“What- what a bunch of dicks. I can’t believe them… Techno maybe, but Tubbo? I know Tubbo can see me, he talks to me all the time!” Tommy seethed, but Wilbur saw something frightened lingering behind the anger in his eyes. “I mean, I know some of my jokes go a little far – they’re still bloody hilarious of course, but still – but that’s a whole other level of shitty! Making you think you’re crazy or something.”

Crazy. That… that was it. With those words, the fog in Wilbur’s head cleared, just enough to let a thick dark angry smog in. Wilbur knew the answer, he knew the truth. Wilbur had thought he’d learned from his mistakes, but he’d still been too trusting. He should have known better. Nobody could be trusted, if they were they’d inevitably stab him in the back. Shoot him with arrows. Blow up his home. Conspire to make Wilbur think he’s gone crazy. It wouldn’t work, not this time, Wilbur was sound of mind enough to see reality through their dirty tricks. Tommy was alive. Wilbur was right. Their friends are just liars.

Wilbur snickered. It must’ve sounded off since Tommy shot him a worried look. “You good big man?”

“I’m fine Tommy. And so are you. They’re just a bunch of filthy liars. It’s alright though, we don’t need them! All we need is us, me and you, Tommy and Wilbur, president and his right hand. We just need each other, all we can trust is each other.”

Tommy frowned. “What? Wilbur no, Tubbo, he’s- he’s cool! We can trust Tubbo.”

Wilbur laughed and shook his head. His little brother has always been so naive. But it’s okay, Wilbur will take care of this for him, will take care of everything for him. “I need some time alone, okay? I just need to think. Go ahead and go tell Techno and Tubbo their little scheme to convince me I’m crazy didn’t fucking work. Get some rest, okay?”

Tommy protested a little but Wilbur brushed him off and walked away into the treeline, already lost in thought. He knew he should be relieved. He finally figured the conspiracy out! He’d be fine, he’d be safe, their underhanded tricks couldn’t weasel into his head anymore. But as he walked, a voice whispered in his mind, growing steadily louder and louder.

Anyone could be lying to him. Anything he’s ever been told could be a lie. Anything he’s ever believed could very well just be a part of their sick plan. Everything he’d ever known might just be one big lie, one massive, twisted conspiracy. Everything. Everything but Tommy was dangerous. Even Techno and Phil. Even L'Manberg. Even Wilbur.

And if Wilbur is a lie, a piece in their plan, well. What role has he really been playing all along?

Chapter Text

Techno made his choice and so it seemed had Tubbo. When Wilbur returned to Pogtopia Techno had stared at him warily before turning to continue mining. Days passed, and the fight went unmentioned. It didn’t mean Wilbur could trust them, oh no, he knew better than that. But it meant they could still be useful to him, for the time being, it meant they weren't yet liabilities. Work could continue as planned.

The tentative connection he and Techno had been rebuilding fractured anew, but Wilbur didn’t mind. He didn't need Techno after all, he could see that now. Techno, for his part, seemed committed to the cause and worked diligently. It brought a smile to Wilbur’s face to see him working hard day in and day out. He was so useful. Techno’s work ethic even made him useful enough for Wilbur to not kick him out whenever he hesitantly tried to continue his little mind tricks. He’d try to cut in when Wilbur was talking to Tommy, tried to subtly direct the conversation away from him. He’d sit where Wilbur indicated Tommy was sitting, and Tommy would have to scramble to his feet to avoid Techno dropping his weight onto him. He had even chucked a rock at Tommy once when Wilbur had reached out to pull the boy in to a hug, and Tommy had barely ducked out of the way in time. Wilbur had screamed at Techno until his voice went hoarse, relishing in the way Techno drew back, eyes wide. Wilbur had made it clear that if Techno ever tried something like that again, Wilbur would chase him out of Pogtopia himself, sword in hand. After that Techno stopped trying and rarely came out to interact with Wilbur unless Wilbur was venturing out into the danger of Manberg.

Tubbo was another matter. He didn’t try to keep convincing Wilbur Tommy was still dead, instead opting to actively avoid the topic. He seemed to be cautious of Wilbur when they spoke, scared of bringing Tommy up and setting him off. If Wilbur mentioned Tommy or the adventures Tommy told him they’d been on recently his eyes would fill with tears and he’d carefully try to skirt around the questions, only outright denying them when Wilbur tried to force him to address Tommy. It made Wilbur seethe and he wanted to rip into the teen until he gave up on the traitorous plot, but Tommy’s mournful gaze always made him falter. It clearly hurt him to have to hear his best friend acting like he didn’t exist, and Wilbur never wanted his little brother to hurt, so eventually Wilbur, like Techno, gave up on trying to convince Tubbo to give up his position. Tentative peace fell over the trio when the unspoken agreement not to mention Tommy formed, but Wilbur didn't miss how the others treated him like a bomb ready to explode.

The only good part of the group’s shift in dynamics was Tommy. He’d started spending more time around Wilbur, though he had been growing more quiet. It was nice to have him around more often and be able to talk with his right hand man while Wilbur worked. Something was off about Tommy though. Wilbur had never felt more alive than he did now that he’d had his revelation, but Tommy seemed to be the exact opposite, slowly wilting away from the loud and eager boy he’d been.

He frowned down at his hands when Wilbur ranted about Manberg, and his protests when Wilbur accused Tubbo of lying to them grew increasingly quiet. His gaze lingered on Techno at dinner, and he’d stopped running off to go explore their territory. Wilbur worried for him. He knew the exile was hard on him, he wanted to make things better, and he would! He just needed a little more time to fix things, to make things better for Tommy again.

He wanted to make sure Tommy was safe, physically and mentally. He thought he was doing a pretty good job of it too. He didn't realize how badly he’d failed until he asked Tommy to help him mine, and turned to see Tommy staring blankly at the pickaxe.

“Tommy? Come on, don’t tell me you’re too tired to help out. I thought you were a child, not a toddler,” Wilbur teased. His heart sank a little when Tommy made no protests against being called a child. “Tommy?”

Tommy’s gaze shifted from the pickaxe propped against the wall to his own shaky hands. “I… I can’t Wil. I don’t think- fuck. I don’t think I can.”

“Why not?” Wilbur sat beside him and reached for his hands. “Are you hurt?” Tommy shook his head and pulled his hands away, chewing his bottom lip nervously. Wilbur frowned but placed his own hands in his lap, waiting for the teen to be ready to share whatever was bothering him.

“...Hey Wilbs?” Tommy spoke up in a small voice after a few beats of silence. Wilbur smiled a little at the childhood nickname.

“Yes?”

Tommy swallowed hard and turned to look towards the door that lead into the farm. Wilbur couldn't see or hear him, but he knew Techno was hard at work there, like always. Tommy’s voice shook when he spoke. “I’m dead, aren't I?”

Wilbur’s blood chilled in his veins. The familiar fog circling around him turned to lead in his lungs, and the only thing louder than his racing heartbeat was Tommy’s quiet tears splashing the ground. “Tommy-”

“I died ages ago, didn't I Wilbur?” Tommy cut him off. “Dream, he- he shot me, I died, I- I was dead for months. People don’t just come back from that Wilbur! And- and Techno and Tubbo keep acting like I don’t exist, and I...” He trailed off into a sob. “Am I real Wilbur? I-I want to be real, I don’t want to let go, I don’t want to disappear, I don’t- Wilbs, I-I’m scared-”

Wilbur grabbed the boy and gathered him into his arms. “Shh, shh, no, hey, listen to me. Don’t listen to them, they’re just jerks, okay? Trust me, you’re as real as can be.” Because if he wasn’t Wilbur would be alone, so alone. He couldn’t handle letting go of Tommy, he couldn't lose him, he didn’t want to let him go. “Trust me, okay? I’d never let that happen to you, I promise. It’s my job to protect you, I’d never- you aren't dead Tommy. You can’t be.” Wilbur was meant to protect him, he was supposed to take care of him. He couldn’t have failed, he couldn't. “You’re safe, you’re here with me. And I’m never letting you go, okay?” Never again, Wilbur could never let him go again. He couldn't handle having his baby brother’s lifeless body pried out of his arms again, couldn't watch him disappear into dirt and air, Wilbur couldn't let him go, he wouldn't. “Do you understand?”

Tommy curled into his arms, nodding shakily. “Right… right, I trust you Wilbs. You’re right.”

Wilbur breathed out a sigh of relief and Tommy leaned back out of his arms, more solid than ever and back to grinning. Signs of his crying disappeared remarkably fast, as did the ache in Wilbur’s skull. Still, Wilbur couldn't help the unease lingering in him. He needed to protect Tommy from this, he promised himself he would. Whatever memories or people were causing this would have to be taken care of as soon as possible. For now though, he needed to build Tommy’s morale. And knowing Tommy, the best way to do that was through movement, purpose, and Tubbo.

“Hey, Tubbo sent me a message that Schlatt’s planning on making an announcement today. What do you say you and I go check it out, save Tubbo the trip, yeah?”

Tommy smiled brightly. “Hell yeah! Let’s go Big Man!” He jumped up and ran off down the tunnels they’d built and Wilbur laughed, following along. He didn’t bother telling Techno they were leaving.

---

Tommy and Wilbur arrived at Manberg with just enough time to climb up on Eret’s tower. They crouched at the edge, watching a small crowd amass in front of the podium as the president stumbled up onto the stage. Wilbur curled his lip. As if the mere sight of Schlatt wasn’t revolting enough already, the man was so drunk Wilbur could practically smell the booze from his hiding spot. He spared a glance at Tommy, who was scowling down at the stage. If nothing else, Wilbur was glad Tommy wasn’t around such an unstable figure of power.

“My loyal Manbergians!” Schlatt’s voice carried through the silent air. “I came here to announce a gift to you. A celebration to honor democracy, and to celebrate our great nation and its new era of peace.”

Beside Wilbur, Tommy raised his bow and aimed it toward Schlatt. Wilbur frantically shook his head. Tommy scowled and dipped his bow down but didn't put it away so Wilbur sighed and grabbed his arm. He pulled Tommy away from the speech still being given, a whirlwind of thoughts swirling in his mind.

Tommy followed him, and Wilbur glanced back to see a mixture of anger and hurt painting his face. “I coulda taken my shot, Wilbur. I could’ve- we can’t just leave L’Manberg in his hands and keep waiting Wilbs, we’ve gotta do something.

Wilbur smiled, because Tommy was oh so very right and had no idea. They really couldn't leave Manberg to Schlatt but, well, it wasn't as if they could take it for themselves, either. It was full of watching eyes and traitors hungry for blood, it would never truly be theirs so long as their enemies waited in the shadows, ready to snatch their livelihoods away again whenever it pleased them. Wilbur knew by now that this whole heroic narrative they’d all created together was a lie, that Wilbur’s role had already been carved out by those in power. His role would never give him what he wanted unless he played along. Manberg was just the cheese at the end of the maze, and Wilbur and Tommy were the lab rats. They could turn and run from their nature, sure, but all their lives they’d be haunted by what could have been, unable to move on. Oh no, the only way to get out of this would be to commit to the role they wanted him to play and to play it well, to beat them at the very game they had designed. Earn the cheese- take Manberg- by whatever means necessary. Only then could they move on. Only then could they be happy. Only then, Wilbur thought as he remembered Tommy’s shed tears over their past, could Tommy be safe.

“Killing Schlatt wouldn’t accomplish anything, Tommy.” The game could never be that straightforward. “Then Quackity would just take his place, or George. It’s just a cycle. That’s how the game works. There’s only one way to play it and it’s by their rules.”

“What? Wilbur-”

“Hush, just listen. There is a right and a wrong in every conflict, a good guy and a bad guy in every history lesson. And Schlatt, well… they say a person’s worth is determined by their actions. And this festival? It’s a really nice idea! It doesn't seem evil at all. It seems like a nice, friendly thing Schlatt’s doing, right? It’s a good thing, done by the good guy of the story. But every story, every war, has a bad guy. And if it’s not Schlatt, well… think carefully about what we’re doing, what we’ve done. Because I want you to look at me and answer me honestly here.

“Am I the bad guy?”

Tommy gaped at him, lost for words. Wilbur smirked at his shock. He’d felt that surprise too, not so long ago. But the revelation, once achieved, was freeing.

“Wha- Wilbur no, I don’t think-”

“Think about it Tommy! Think about it. He has every right to be in power. We’re just the greedy ones who refuse to let go! We are the bad guys of this story, just as they intended.”

“They? Who’s-”

“We’ve fallen right into their trap, we’re doing exactly what they want us to do. Playing out the role of the villain and driving ourselves mad in the process. We are fighting a battle on two fronts, one against them, and one against ourselves, stretching ourselves thin until we’re weak enough for them to easily bash into dust! We can’t win the way we want to Toms, face it. We can’t win by overthrowing Schlatt, and we cant win by staying in Pogtopia licking our wounds. The only way to win is to surrender the battle with ourselves and embrace our role in this story! Go above and beyond, lean into the role, overwhelm their defenses and do what must be done to close this history book once and for all.”

Tommy’s voice shook. “Wilbur, what are you saying?”

Wilbur smiled, and it widened more with each word that passed his lips. “What I’m saying, Tommy, is that it’s time we gave in to what was always meant to be. I’m saying we should do the right thing for us and blow Manberg sky high, so we can finally move on, so we can finally write ourselves a new story. Lets do it Tommy, lets give them what they want.”

Wilbur’s grin split his face. “Tommyinnit, let’s be the bad guys.”

Chapter Text

Wilbur hadn’t been sure what to expect from Tommy, but the look of horror in his eyes when Wilbur told him his plan hadn’t been it. He thought maybe part of him was relieved, and maybe part of him expected it. Because Tommy was so endearingly naive, even after all the hardship he’d been through- all the hardship Wilbur had dragged him into, he fucked up his little brother, he fucking KILLED his little brother, fuck- and Wilbur liked that, he wanted to keep it that way. Let Tommy keep his naive trust, let Tommy stay a child. Wilbur could make the hard choices for his sake, Wilbur could protect him. Still, Tommy stepping back when Wilbur moved towards him made his heart ache like never before.

“Tommy, I know you’re afraid, and that’s okay.” Wilbur tried so hard to keep his voice soft and gentle, but couldn't help the giddiness that crept into his words. “It’s okay to be afraid Toms, I’m not asking you to do anything, I don't want you to do anything. I’ll take care of this all myself. But it needs to be done, this is the only way.”

“But- but Wil, what about everyone else?”
“What about everyone else? Tommy, they’re traitors, they’ve chosen their side. We have to look out for ourselves now.”

Tommy still looked uncertain, and Wilbur frowned. He didn’t understand why Tommy would fight him so hard on this, they were supposed to trust each other! Even consoling Tommy after his breakdown had been faster.

“Do you trust me, Tommy?”

Tommy hesitantly nodded. “’course I do Wilbs. You’ve always lead me right.”

That doesn't sound like Tommy. “Right, of course I have. I know what’s best for us, right? And what’s best for us now is getting rid of Manberg. Then we can move on, find a new adventure, how’s that sound? Just you and me, we’ll write a new story for ourselves.”

“I guess that sounds alright...”

“Exactly! Trust me Toms, this is the best option we’ve got. I’ll take care of everything and before you know it, you and I’ll be free of this place.” Wilbur pat Tommy’s head and turned back towards Pogtopia. He’d already gotten Tubbo on board when the idea first occurred to him. Tubbo had seemed a bit nervous, but he’d agreed without too much of an argument just as Wilbur expected. He’d always been so eager to please. Wilbur was already halfway there! Two people down, two to go. He didn’t expect he’d have much of a problem with techno. As broody as his brother’d gotten lately, he still bent to Wilbur's whims easily enough, and Techno had always had a knack for anarchy.

“Techno! Old buddy, old pal. I have a proposition for you,” he said, waltzing into Techno’s potato farm. Techno tensed up but set down his tools.

“And what would that be?”

Wilbur grinned. “I think you and I have been missing out on brotherly bonding time.” Techno’s eyebrows lifted but he looked almost pleasantly surprised. “and I've got the perfect opportunity to catch up. You, me, a big ol’ box of TNT, setting up a scavenger hunt under Manberg! How’s that sound, eh? Fun for the whole family, and when our ‘friends’ find it, we got to watch that hellhole go boom!”

Techno’s expression soured. Somehow he looked less surprised than he had before. “Really.”

“Oh don’t give me that Techno. I know you want to cause some chaos, and I bet you're eager to get home to your farm, right? Well I say we solve both those problems in one swoop. You get to have some fun and head home, and I get to wipe my hands clean of this whole mess.”

Techno sighed. “Home, huh? And what about you Wil? Will you be coming home too?”

Wilbur hadn’t thought of that. He cast a glance around for Tommy, but the boy was no where to be seen. He was sure Tommy would want to visit Phil and Phil probably wouldn’t pull the same awful tricks Tubbo and Techno had been playing. Maybe it wouldn't hurt to go home, just for a few days before he and Tommy moved on to a bigger and better future. Maybe then he could tell Phil he finally freed himself and Tommy from that awful chapter of their history. Maybe phil’d be proud of him, invite him back into their childhood home. Maybe they could all have a nice night with dessert for dinner and a pillow fort in the living room to celebrate, like back when they were kids. Maybe after, Wilbur could set that piece of his past ablaze too.

“I guess we can stop by for a day or two. So then are you in?”

Techno studied him for a moment, seemingly looking for something, slowly nodding. “If… if this is what you need, then yeah. I’m in.”

“Perfect. You’ll help me lay the TNT okay? I don’t want Tommy helping, he should be kept out of this.” Techno sighed but nodded mutely. “Then you and I can hide out underground until it’s time. You’ll guard me while I-”

“No.”

Wilbur glared at him. “No? But you just said-”

Techno held out a hand to stop him. “I’ll still help you, I said I would. But I got an invitation to the festival, to visit L’Manberg.” Wilbur’s blood burned. How could Techno want to visit that filthy country made of nothing but lies and blood and doomed cowards? But something in the way Techno swallowed and cast his gaze to the floor made him pause. It was best not to push it, Wilbur decided. Techno already treated him like a bloodthirsty mutt, Wilbur couldn't afford for Techno to decide to put him down at the last second, not when he and Tommy were so close to freedom. “Don’t get mad, I got no plans of ratting you out. It’s just- I’ve got something there I need to see. ‘Fore it’s gone for good.”

“Fine, whatever. Just get out of there when Tubbo’s speech ends, ‘cause that’s when I’m setting the fuse. Got it?”

“Yeah, whatever.”

Wilbur turned and walked from the room, smiling. Almost there, almost there. Soon he and Tommy’d be free, soon everyone would be.

----

Wilbur greeted the masked man with a smile when he stopped in front of Pogtopia’s entrance. “Dream! I’m glad you could make it.”

Dream inclined his head politely. “President Soot.”

Wilbur grit his teeth, stamping down on the surge of memories this time. “Just Wilbur now, I’m afraid.”

Dream smiled pityingly. “Right. Well that’ll be sorted in due time, I suppose.”

“No, actually it won’t.” Dream cocked his head, seeming curious despite the bland mask covering half of his face. “I’ve grown ttired of that role. It’s time to move on. You said you’d help us, right? Well, I want you to help me with one last dazzling show! One final performance as President Soot, the perfectly crafted bad guy! And then me, Tommy, and Manberg will all be out of your hair, for good this time.”

Dream’s smile froze. “Tommy?”

“Who’s calling my- holy shit Wilbur! What the fuck? You didn’t tell me Dream was stopping by.”

Wilbur laughed and cast a glance over his shoulder to see Tommy leaning against the dirt walls of Pogtopia. “Hush child, the adults are talking. You don’t need to get involved.”

“I’m not a child, Wil-”

“-bur, Wilbur, who are you talking to?”

Wilbur frowned at Dream. “Oh no, don’t you start on this, don’t you dare! I’ve had enough of people playing with my head, and it won’t work, so don't even try it Dream. Techno, Tubbo, everyone who's tried so far has failed, and I promise you, you wont make it any further.” Dream held his hands up in surrender and Wilbur took a deep steadying breath. “Right, okay, let’s not get off topic here.

“I am preparing a big – huge! - surprise for the Manberg festival. I want to lace as much TNT as can possibly fit under Manberg. And I want you to give it to me.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Why not?” Wilbur ignored Tommy’s quiet sigh of relief from behind him.

“I want L’Manberg back, Wilbur. I thought that was what you were trying to do here. This won’t accomplish that, you’ll just destroy everything.”

“I want to destroy everything.”

“You’re not in your right mind-”

Wilbur cut him off with a shrill laugh. “Ohh there we go again! You’re all the same, same tricks, same lines, same traitorous stench. It’s always ‘Tommy’s not real, Wilbur’” Wilbur mocked, “or ‘you’re going crazy Wilbur, take a break.’ I know you’re all lying to me, none of you are trustworthy! I’ll do this with or without your help. I just thought maybe you’d want to be on the right side of history for once, child killer.”

Dream flinched back and took a steadying breath. Wilbur took great satisfaction in the tense set of his shoulders. “I… okay, wow. That’s a lot.” He paused for a moment before continuing in a quiet voice. “You’re really lonely out here, huh? I thought Techno and Tubbo would be good company for you but… it must be hard for you all. It must be hard for you.”

Wilbur scoffed. “Hard? You have no idea of hard, Dream. You’re off in your own easy, happy little world. Meanwhile, everyone out here is trying to drive me fucking crazy except for Tommy. You’re clearly no better so-” Wilbur spun on his heel, intended to march back into Pogtopia and lock Dream out, but Tommy stood in front of the entrance and placed a shaky hand on his shoulder.

“Give him a chance Wil. He wants to help you.”

“Help me? Help? He killed you Toms. I know you're better now, but what if you weren't. I almost lost you because of him. I should've never invited him in the first place.”

Dream spoke up from behind him. “I know Wilbur. I know. But I’m here now, so can we talk? Please.”

“Let him talk Wilbs, it wont hurt. Maybe...” Tommy’s eyes seemed at once bright and empty with the same hope. “Maybe it’ll help.”

Wilbur scowled, but the pleading look on Tommy’s face refused to let him just walk away. “...Fine.”

Wilbur turned back around. Dream relaxed ever so slightly and leaned back against a tree. Wilbur could tell he was trying to be casual, and it almost worked, but Wilbur had gotten good at picking up on subtle body language the past few weeks. And with no face to look at, it was all Wilbur was left to focus on. “I can already tell you won’t trust anything I say. But I want to reach you Wilbur, will you let me try?”

“All I want is a yes or no, Dream.”

“Come on, I know Techno can’t be much of a talker. You must be dying for a fresh conversation by now, right?”

He wasn’t entirely wrong, but… “I have Tommy.”

Dream grimaced slightly but nodded slowly. “Tommy always did talk a lot, didn't he?”

“He still does.”

“Hey!”

“Right,” Dream continued, paying no heed to Tommy's protest. “You know, I’ve always liked being around friends, even when I’m angry. It helps calm me down, because I’d never hurt them even if I’m pissed, you know? But it can get pretty lonely too, when things get bad. When you’re stuck together, it’s so easy to tell when they start treating you differently or when they act like something's wrong with you. It must be like that in Pogtopia, huh? Not exactly, I’m sure, but. Sometimes when you’re strong, you lose control, and you end up doing things that scare you and the people around you… “Dream trailed off, his voice tinged with pain as he shook his head. “What I mean by all this, I know how rough it can be when people are worried about you, and treat you differently because they don’t know how to help you. I get it.”

Wilbur’s mind flashed to the way Tubbo flinched around him, how he skittered away from Pogtopia the first chance he got after dropping off intel. He thought of techno, staring at him with tired, mournful eyes, like he’d lost Wilbur somehow, and the resigned distance he kept. He thought of the quiet reminders in every interaction that they thought Wilbur was different, crazy, wrong. He thought of tommy, and how he sometimes looked at Wil like he didn't even know him anymore. “Yeah. I guess.”

“For the record, I don’t think you’re crazy Wilbur.” Dream smiled softly at him. “Really, I don’t. I think you just need a little support, will you let me give that to you?”

Wilbur narrowed his eyes. So that’s what this was, an attempt to get Wilbur’s guard down. “Oh screw off. I don’t believe you. You really think I’ll trust you now? After everything you've done? Trust is a two way street. You can’t keep taking without giving and expect to magically stay in everyone’s good graces.”

“You’re right. You’re right, and I want to fix that okay? I’m genuine. I...” Dream hesitated, then reached up to grab his mask. He pulled it off and Wilbur was surprised by how normal and human he looked, and even more surprised by the sincerity his expression held. “I trust you, and I want you to trust me, okay? I believe in you, I believe in what you're trying to do. I want to help. Even if you can’t trust techno, or Tubbo, or anyone in Manberg, you can trust me.”

Wilbur hesitated still, but Tommy ran past him looking positively giddy. “Holy shit! Wilbur! He’s got a tan line!” Tommy burst into laughter and Wilbur smiled slightly, relaxing. Surely if Tommy had forgiven him and was at ease, Wilbur could move past their past too. That was what this was all about anyway, wasn't it? Moving away from their past in one final blow. And it felt nice, to speak with someone who didn't look like they expected Wilbur to bite their head off any second.

“...Alright. That’s fine.”

Dream smiled and sat with his back against the tree. “Let’s talk then.”

Wilbur nodded and sat down too, and allowed a conversation to flow naturally between them. It was strangely nice, nicer than Wilbur could've expected. Not once did Dream pick up any of Techno or Tubbo’s usual mind tricks, and when Wilbur spiraled into delighted rants about Manberg’s fate Dream would simply nod along, interjecting with comments or critiques to the plan. Tommy interrupted a few times, but did it less and less as the conversation wore on. Instead, he sat to the left of the clearing, where the haze of Wilbur’s mind had receded. He flickered in Wilbur’s vision, and a few times Wilbur even forgot he was there, but he wore the gentlest smile Wilbur had seen in weeks.

Eventually the conversation trailed off naturally and Wilbur leaned back on his hands, staring up at the stars peeking through the lingering light of the sunset. They looked so clear, and Wilbur felt clear too, calm. He couldn't remember the last time his head had been this quiet.

After a few moments Dream pushed himself to his feet and extended his hand, helping Wilbur up as well.

“Well,” Dream said. “This was nice. Can I come talk to you again?”

Wilbur nodded. “I’d like that. I’m sure there’ll be more plans to discuss before the festival anyway.”

“Right, the festival. Well, I did say I was going to help you, so...” Dream placed a small parcel of explosives into Wilbur’s waiting hands. Wil caught the way his gaze lingered on them for a moment, but he drew his hand back all the same and made no attempt to sway Wilbur from his goal. “That’s all I have on me at the moment. I’ll bring the rest the next time I visit, okay?”

Wilbur nodded, simply staring at the contents in his hand. He was distantly aware of Tommy’s peaceful smile shattering into dismay, and vaguely heard the way he shouted at dream not to help Wilbur blow Manberg up, and begged Wil not to put his new items to use. Wilbur barely listened though. His attention was fixed on the explosives in his hand, and the weak coil of doubt wrapping around his heart. He stomped it down and looked up to meet Dream’s eyes. “I’ll see you then.”

Dream smiled at him and rested his hand on Wilbur’s shoulder. “Stay safe, President Soot.” Then he turned, pulled his mask on, and departed into the night.

Chapter Text

The festival arrived in the blink of an eye. Wilbur was prepared for it, of course. Dream had visited twice and had delivered all the TNT Wilbur could possibly need, and Techno had helped him place the mines under Manberg. Tubbo had proofed his speech with Wilbur and confirmed the code phrase, and no one in Manberg was any wiser to their fate. Everything was perfect. Yet Wilbur still felt hesitant. He wasn’t sure why. Maybe it was because of the part of him that wanted to stick around with Dream for longer. Maybe it was the clarity that kept trying to clear the anger out of his mind. Maybe Wilbur was just weak.

Or maybe it was Tommy. He’d been absent more and more often lately, especially when dream came to visit. He claimed it was because every time he saw him, he wanted to punch his face in. Still, Tommy was by his side most hours of the day, though the bond between them had grown less comforting. Recently most of their interactions had morphed into them arguing and Tommy insisting that the explosion wasn't a good idea. It hurt Wilbur to see his brother fighting him so hard on something that was for his own good, but at least it steeled his resolve. It was clear Tommy was too idealistic to make hard choices, so it fell on Wilbur to do what was right for them. He could do that. He’d protect Tommy. And when this was all over, and they were both allowed to finally heal, Tommy would thank him. For now, though, Wilbur just had to make sure Tommy didn't get hurt or get in the way.

“I really don't think this is a good idea, Wil.”

Wilbur sighed. “I know Toms. You’ve been saying that for days.”

“Yeah well then maybe you should listen! I really have a bad feeling about this. Can’t we at least have Tubbo stay back? Say he’s sick or something? He really shouldn’t have to see...”

Wilbur stopped in the entrance way of Pogtopia and placed a comforting hand on Tommy’s shoulder. “Tubbo will be fine Tommy, and he’ll probably be so busy running he won’t even look back to see the wreckage. It’ll all turn out fine, okay? You and I, we’ll be fine.”

“And everyone else? Will they be fine?”

Wilbur smiled. “Of course. Techno will get to go back to what he loves doing, Dream will regain full control of this territory, Tubbo will be unharmed, and all the Manbergians” those filthy, traitorous Manbergians “will be free of the oppressive tale Schlatt’s created. Everyone will get something in some form or another.”

Tommy pursed his lips but opted not to argue further, instead casting a pleading look towards Techno who had just come up out of the stairwell. It was fine though, Wilbur knew Tommy wouldn't betray him. And in just a few hours time, the two would finally be free.

Techno walked by him but paused at the doorway. “I’m going ahead. You’re fine walking by yourself?”

“Of course. You’d better hurry, I’m not stopping for anything when the time comes.”

Techno nodded. “’course. I’ll see you after, I guess. Let’s meet back here, alright? And then we can go home.”

Wilbur rolled his eyes. “Yes, yes. Now hurry up. I’m serious, Techno. I don’t care if you’re still in there, when the time comes I’m blowing that place sky high.”

Techno grunted an affirmation then left. Wilbur gathered the last of what he may need, which was mainly just his resolve, then headed to the exit.

“Wait!” Tommy called. “You’re not wearing any armor.”

Wilbur sighed. “It’s a stealth mission Toms, it’d be better for me to go without.”

“Please? I know I said I’d go along with this but- I just, I don’t want you to get hurt, okay?”

Wilbur ruffled the blond’s hair. “Alright, fine. You win.” He pulled on an iron helmet then set off, Tommy close behind. As he walked he whistled a merry tune, but couldn't help the coil of dread building in his gut.

-----

The festival had been going well. Too well. Wilbur and Tommy watched from afar, and though Wilbur kept telling himself to look away, he couldn't seem to focus on anything but the bright smiles and laughter. He watched Tubbo and Niki giggle and pester Eret, who looked relaxed and welcomed for the first time in months, to try the cakes they’d made. He looked on Fundy and Quackity bickered over the rules of a strength game, and he even stood by and watched as Techno returned from his trip to that quiet gravestone and was pulled into some sort of dunking game that prompted one of his rare smiles despite the social situation. He tracked Techno’s path backwards and saw, from a distance, a slice of cake, fresh bouquet of flowers, and a small gold coin placed before the grave. He doubted Techno place them there, but didn't allow himself to wonder who had.

The whole time, Tommy stood beside him, watching the festivities with a soft smile. Wilbur was surprised not to see any trace of jealousy or resentment there, but Tommy seemed happy just watching. It was strangely mature for the boy, but it was a good look. Wilbur soon found that when he wasn't watching the festivities, he was watching Tommy and the fond looks he sent all of their former friends from their hiding spot..

That word kept echoing in his mind, bouncing around until he felt dizzy and sick. Former friends. It had sounded fine before, but its repetition had had that odd effect of making the words seem fake, strange, wrong. It didn't feel right, but Wilbur forced down the bubbling gentleness he felt towards the happy people down below, reminding himself not to call them by name anymore. They didn't deserve that. They weren't the people he used to know. Now they were just former friends, and more importantly, future corpses.

Wilbur felt sick.

Was he really doing this? Everyone down there looked so happy… was Wilbur really going to kill them all? He looked down at them and remembered long talks with Tubbo under the stars and teaching the boys to fight together in the early days of the war. He remembered Niki making him soup the day he fell ill, and how everyone worked together to bake her a cake on her birthday, though the result ended up a crooked pastry and four boys coated in flour. He remembered finding Eret crying by Tommy’s grave and the two of them sitting in mutual silence as the sun set, and he remembered the day in the first month of the war that Sapnap carried Tubbo to Manberg’s gates after he sprained his ankle. He remembered Schlatt stopping by their house to visit, long before L’Manberg existed, and how disapproving but amused Phil looked as the horned man taught young Tommy all about his “business” strategies and clever adventures as Tommy all but shrieked with delight. He remembered smiling with them all, mourning with them. He remembered loving them.

“It doesn’t have to end like this, Wil.”

Wilbur hunched his shoulders inward, watching Schaltt, Quackity, and Tubbo climb the stage to start the speeches. “It does, Tommy. You don’t understand. I have to do this.” Does it actually have to end in blood and flames? Does he really have to hurt them to move on?

“But I… I don’t think I want to,” He whispered.

“Then don’t.” Tommy approached him and gently placed his hand on Wilbur’s arm. “Look at them Wil, look at Tubbo. Look how happy he is. Don’t you want him to be happy?”

“But...”

“This isn’t the only way forward Wil. Let’s just go home, yeah? Let’s go see Phil, help Techno with his farm, just get away from it all.”

“You don’t understand Tommy, this is the role I’ve been given, this is what they want me to do!”

“And what do you want, Wilbur? You’ve never listened to the rules set for you before. You’re Wilbur fucking Soot, man, rules have never defined you, you define them! I mean just look at what you’ve since you got here. You sold drugs out of a shitty van, you set a standard of seeking peace through words, you took liberty into your own hands and established an election, even when you could've ruled absolutely. Don’t you see? You’ve always had a hand in writing this story, so quit whining and write a better ending!”

“I can do that?” Wilbur whispered. “Do I even want to do that?”

Tommy continued to speak but it was so quiet, so distant. Wilbur turned away and cast his eyes to the stage as Schlatt stepped aside to let Tubbo give his speech. He felt the usual bubble of rage at seeing the man, but when he looked down at the rest of the crowd he felt oddly calm. It hurt to see them together and smiling like they hadn't all stabbed Wilbur in the back, but even still, did he really want them dead? It couldn't be forgiven, but maybe it could be forgotten.

Something warm blossomed in Wilbur’s chest as he looked down and saw Techno lingering at the edge of the crowd, ready to run as Tubbo neared the end of his speech. He’d probably be mad Wilbur changed his plans without telling him, but maybe he’d be relieved, too. He, Wilbur, and Tommy would all be heading home soon, and Manberg… well, Manberg could be left to its own devices.

The slowly forming smile froze on his face when Schlatt stepped forward and enclosed Tubbo in a box. Nothing made it past Wilbur’s ears but the sound of that mad cackle, as Techno reluctantly ascended the stage, as Tubbo pressed fearfully into the back of his prison. Techno was aiming his crossbow, oh god, but surely he wouldn't shoot, Techno was on their side, right?

“Wilbur? Wilbur, what is he doing? He won’t hurt Tubbo, right?” Wilbur could barely hear Tommy over that maddening, awful laughter that bounced through his head on loop.

“No, of course he won’t.” He was only vaguely aware of the words leaving his lips, of Tommy clinging to his arm. “Techno won’t hurt him, he’s on our side, just wait.”

So the two waited, but Techno didn't stop. Wilbur couldn't even look as the crossbow was aimed at the teen, his eyes fixed on the crowd below who stood frozen and breathless. Niki looked to be crying but no one did anything, no one moved to intervene and Wilbur was right all along, they were nothing but traitors and cowards and-

Colors burst outward at the edge of Wilbur’s vision, and the one noise to finally cut through Schlatt’s laughter cackling through his mind was Tommy’s piercing scream. Wilbur’s eyes snapped back to the stage, a mess of blood and gore, and the world froze. Wilbur didn't know what to do, he felt hopeless, he felt lost.

Purpose came to him in the voice of his sixteen year old brother, coated in fury the likes of which Wilbur had never heard from him.

“Wilbur, go press that fucking button.”

“But I thought-”

Tommy’s voice was everywhere, everywhere, filling every crevice of his mind and screaming at him to go, go, go. “What, you think they deserve to live? After that? Blow them to smithereens, Wil, I want them dead.”

Wilbur swallowed hard and grinned, sharp and angry and bloodthirsty. “I’m glad you’ve finally come around,” he said, and set off to bring justice to a nation of sinners.

-----

Wilbur wasn't sure when he ended up back at Manberg. All he knew was that one moment he was frantically searching for the button that had disappeared, and the next he was being pushed down onto a bench by Techno. Tommy seethed beside him. He shouted accusations and insults at the bloodied man before them, but Techno refused to give him any response, like always. Wilbur meanwhile, felt vindicated.

“You know, I really should have expected this from you Techno.”

Techno squeezed his eyes shut briefly and exhaled forcefully, then went back to furiously scrubbing the blood splatter off his skin. “Don’t.”

“Aw, is the traitor mad I see him for what he is? A selfish, cowardly-”

Techno cut him off, voice low. “Wilbur, I’m serious. Don’t.”

“No, no, you’re not getting out of this so easily. Tell me, Techno, what makes you better than Dream? What makes you killing Tubbo any better than Dream sending our baby brother to his grave?” Wilbur was cackling now, this whole situation was so painfully funny. He couldn't believe he’d nearly bought into their tricks again.

Techno whirled around to face him. “That’s different Wilbur, and you know it. They outnumbered me, I would’ve died. What choice did I have?” Techno rose his voice to a volume Wilbur rarely heard from him, and it was enough to shut up even Tommy for a moment. But as quickly as it came, it died down into a shaky monotone once more. “I wanted to go home, okay? Things were going to be okay, we were going to go home. I just wanted to go home...”

“He’s right,” oh, Wilbur had nearly forgotten their guests. Dream had dropped Niki off not long ago, claiming if he hadn't brought her she would've gone after Schlatt and gotten herself killed. He hadn’t stuck around though, Wilbur could see the way he shook despite how he tried to hide it. Alongside her had come Tubbo. Tommy fussed over him, but Tubbo still seemed set on pretending his friend didn’t exist. Techno hadn't addressed him, but Wilbur wasn't concerned over that. He was sure it must hurt to look at a child you murdered in cold blood, even if they did come back afterwards.

“What? No Tubbo, don’t be stupid, he needs to pay, he needs to-”

Tubbo still didn't even look at Tommy. “They would’ve killed him too Wil, don’t blame him. And… can you really afford to lose his help?”

Wilbur considered that. It was true that they still needed Techno’s strength. And it’s not like Wilbur was all that surprised by Techno’s actions. He was a traitor too after all, this was just in character. “Alright, say no more. I forgive him. I forgive you, Techno.”

Techno stared at him, relief flooding his features. Wilbur held his hand up to signal he wasn't done. “But,” he gestured towards Tommy, who was practically shaking with anger. “He hasn’t. And I won’t allow infighting in my nation.”

Techno stared blankly at Wilbur. “What?”

“Tech, I’m sure you of all people know that sometimes, people need to vent in a more physical way. So if you want to stay, you’ll have to get your frustrations out in the pit.”

“The pit? Wilbur, what the hell are you talking about?”

Wilbur grinned. “Follow me.” He lead the group to a stone pit he had constructed a while back. He didn't remember what he had made it for, it all seemed so fuzzy. But what he knew now was that it was the perfect size for some good old fashioned brawling. He wouldn't let things get out of hand, of course, but it needed to happen. And if he was being honest, a small piece of him was excited to see what Tommy was capable of now that he seemed to be on Wilbur’s side. He set to work constructing a fence along the edges to ensure no one could get out until Wilbur deemed the match was over. Techno stood near him, arguing, but Wilbur drowned him out with giddy humming.

“Now now Techno, quit complaining. Just patch things up with Tommy and then we can move on to plan b of Manberg’s demise!” He stood and shoved Techno into the pit before Techno had time to react. Wilbur motioned Tommy to come closer as Techno stood, hands clenched into fists.

“Wilbur.”

“Go on, Tommy, I’ll prepare some healing pots-”

“Wilbur!”

Wilbur sighed and looked down at Techno. He was surprised to see the barely restrained rage in his brother’s eyes, and even more surprised by the disgust and misery accompanying it.

“Wilbur, let me out of this goddamned pit.”

“I will after you and Tommy-”

“Tommy is dead!” The words exploded from Techno with such force that both Wilbur and Tommy stepepd back. “Tommy is dead, Wilbur, and he’s not coming back. Okay? I want him to be here too, but- but he’s not. Look at yourself Wilbur, you’re going crazy. And it’s time someone said that to your face, because you're becoming a fucking psycho. I’ve been trying so hard to hold on to you, but you’re farther gone than I thought if you think that even if Tommy was real, I’d stand here and beat up my grieving brother while you sat there and cheered. What the hell is wrong with you? Where’s Wilbur? Where’s my brother?”

Wilbur could do nothing but stand there in shock and stare down at him. Techno’s expression melted from furious to pleading, and Wilbur wasn’t sure which he hated more. “Please, Wil. Let’s go home, we can even let Niki come. Let us get you help, let us be a family again.”

Wilbur’s face felt wet and his vision blurred, but his head remained so horribly empty. He turned and stumbled off toward his room without another word. He distantly registered Niki going over to help Techno out of the pit, and Techno halfheartedly calling his name, but it didn't matter. None of it mattered besides getting to the safety of his room. Once there he slammed the door shut and huddled up in the corner, trying to sort through the hurricane of emotions brewing in his chest. Tommy and Tubbo sat on either side of him, and Wilbur vaguely wondered how they got in.

He didn't want to talk to them, he didn’t want to have to think. But they both seemed determined to pry into his thoughts, into his mind, into his heart. Tubbo quietly assured him he was forgiven, and that Techno would forgive him too. He begged Wilbur to let Techno in, and eventually started trailing off into obscure trivia, all of which Wilbur had heard before. Tommy, meanwhile, sat in uncharacteristic silence until Tubbo finished talking, and ended up leaning into his side, mumbling a soft, “I miss Phil.”

Wilbur smiled shakily. “I know, I miss Phil too.” He focused in on the comforting weight of Tommy against him, only for a chill to race up his spine when he realized he felt nothing there at all. His head whipped to the side, but neither Tubbo or Tommy were in the room.

Its fine, he told himself. He probably fell asleep and dreamed they had followed him in here. They were probably off being a handful for Niki. They were probably pranking Techno or checking Tubbo for wounds. They were probably just in another room.

If they were even there at all.

Chapter Text

Wilbur’s head hadn’t stopped hurting since the festival. It probably didn’t help that he barely ate, drank, or slept. How could he? How could he go about acting normal when nothing made sense anymore? Techno and Wilbur hadn't spoken at all, and Niki’s attempts to console him fell on uncaring ears. Tommy had started ignoring him aside from occasionally interjecting to argue when Wilbur mused about returning to the button. Wilbur was so confused. Shouldn't Tommy be eager to destroy Manberg? He seemed to be, at the end of the festival. How could he have changed his mind so quickly? It didn't make sense. But, Wilbur was realizing, a lot of things about Tommy didn't make sense.

No more than a day and a half passed before Dream came knocking at their door. Wilbur wondered if the man was disappointed in him. For the first time in awhile, Wilbur realized he cared about someone’s perception of him aside from Tommy. Why would he? Everyone else had lied to him and feared him. Not Dream though. Dream had put full faith in him. Tommy still didn't seem to fully trust him after he gave Wilbur the TNT but Wilbur couldn't help but think of how though he’d never directly denied Tommy’s existence to Wilbur, even Dream, the one person who had yet to try to screw with Wilbur’s mind, passed his gaze over Tommy without so much as flinching. Shouldn't that be odd? Shouldn't even Dream have to show some sign of remorse or surprise in the face of his teenage victim?

And then when Dream visited after the festival he brought along Quackity, who Wilbur had nearly shot then and there until Dream placed a hand on his shoulder and told him, “It’s okay. He’s not with Schlatt, and he needs help too. You could use a fresh face around here Wilbur. I think you two can help each other.” So Wilbur had reluctantly let him in.

Tommy had tried toe ease his worry by assuring him he could vouch for Quackity. But that did nothing to calm Wilbur down. Tommy had never mentioned knowing the man before the war for L’Manberg, and he certainly hadn't had time to meet him during their exile. When had they met? Why was Tommy so willing to accept him?

Because of his confusion, Wilbur took to following Quackity through Pogtopia when he could. It didn't take a genius to see how tense and tired the ex-vice president was, and Wilbur noted the sincerity he apologized to Niki with, how his gaze flinched away from Techno. Most of all, Wilbur noticed Quackity too acted as if Tommy didn't exist.

Quackity had made it clear he wanted Schlatt gone as soon as possible, and seemed to hold little interest in Wilbur personally. And his behavior had remained consistent since the very beginning. What use would Quackity have to play mind tricks? And as someone that’s been on the other side since the start of this, when would one of the others had the opportunity to approach him and tip him off about ignoring Tommy? It didn't make sense. It didn't. Could it really be true?

Was Tommy really not here?

Wilbur stamped down on the thought but it cropped up again. With the thought came dawning horror and grief as loss set in. He cant have lost Tommy, not for some stupid country that was out of his reach now. God, everything had been better before L’Manberg. Maybe it was time to finish things. Wilbur was tired of its haunting memory, he needed to get rd of it. He needed to move past it, with or without Tommy's approval. But he didn't want to be alone when it happened. His eyes landed on Quackity, who was finishing digging out a room for himself, all alone. Perfect.

“Quackity.” Wilbur grinned at how Quackity jumped at his silent approach. Good, he hadn't lost his touch. “You said you wanted to see Schlatt taken down, right?”

Quackity eyed him suspiciously but nodded. To be fair, Wilbur had barely said a word to him and had just been staring at him for two days straight. “Of course I do. Why?”

Wilbur’s smile widened. “I think there’s something you should be witness to. Follow me.” Quackity looked confused but followed Wilbur as he led them out of Pogtopia and through the forest towards Manberg. Wilbur was distantly aware of Tommy's voice somewhere off behind them, but he brushed it aside. He didn't let himself think about what he was about to do or how Tommy would react. He needed to keep his mind clear and focused on his goal.

Quackity faltered as they approached the small hill Wilbur had rediscovered after the festival. Wilbur stopped and flashed him a sharp smile over his shoulder. “You know, Quackity, you’re very lucky to be alive today.”

Quackity laughed nervously. “Is that a threat?”

“Not if you’re a fast runner. Now come on, I want you to see this.” Wilbur pushed aside the dirt that had been hiding his tunnel and traveled down into the room he’d built. Quackity followed him in, only to freeze when he saw the first of the TNT.

“Hey uh, what the hell is this?”

Wilbur spread his arms out wide, grin manic. “Welcome to freedom, Quackity! I hope you brought a pen, you’re about to help write the final words of a history book.”

“Woah woah woah, Wilbur, just- just calm down, hold on a minute.” Quackity’s voice cracked a little and Wilbur couldn't help but giggle a little when he saw how Quackity’s eyes kept flicking to the piles of TNT. “This isn’t a good idea, you’re gonna end up hurting everyone who lives in there! You can’t just do this shit”

Wilbur laughed. “What, are you scared? I thought you wanted Schlatt gone Quackity. What was it Schlatt was so fond of calling you? A pussy? Little bitchboy?” Wilbur sneered. “I can see why. This is your chance to prove him wrong, Quackity. Do the right thing.”

“I want Schlatt gone just as much as you do but this- this is not going to accomplish anything! What’s even the point of taking that fucker down if we take everyone else down with him?”

“The point? The point, Quackity, is that we’ll be freeing them. Freeing them from the tyranny of his rule! Freeing them from the cursed existence of Manberg! Freeing them from their own twisted ways! You weren't here, Quackity, before this all began. You never knew them, but they used to be good people. Manberg took that away, Manberg broke them! I’m going to fix that, so Manberg can never ruin anyone ever again! And then, then maybe they can even be forgiven for their sins! Maybe.”

“No, no, look man, look- this isn’t right, this-” Quackity stole another glance at the explosives and swallowed hard. “fuck, this is a lot of TNT. And I’m guessing- judging by what you’ve said, that this isn't all of it. I really don’t think we’ll get away in time if you light this. Seriously man, let’s talk this over outside. Seriously Wilbur, holy fuck, dude! Don’t walk towards it!”

“Get ready to run,” Wilbur instructed cheerfully. Quackity reached forward to pull him back but Wilbur shrugged his arm off and took out his sword. “This needs to be done. Consider yourself lucky! You’re about to witness the end of a tyrant.”

“Holy- Wilbur come on man listen to me, this isn't right, seriously-” Quackity was growing steadily shriller as Wilbur moved towards the button. “You’re gonna kill us both, Wilbur-”

“Wilbur listen to him!” Wilbur blinked and jerked back, surprised to find himself staring directly into terrified blue eyes. But Tommy hadn’t followed him…

“They fucked up, Wilbur. And we’re gonna make them pay, I want that too. But this isn't the way, this isn't right. I-I don’t want you to die Wilbur, please...”

“Tommy? What’re you doing here…? You shouldn’t- you need to get out of here, you could get hurt.” Wilbur wasn't sure why he was still bothering to respond aloud. Was Tommy even real? Wilbur hesitated with his hand hovering near the button. He couldn't risk hurting Tommy, but was Tommy even here? Nobody else seemed to see him. Even though Wilbur desperately wanted him to be here, how much longer could Wilbur ignore what seemed to be the obvious truth? His hand flinched back and forth, drifting a little closer then a little further away. He couldn't risk hurting Tommy or upsetting him. But he had to do this. But…

“...Tommy?” Quackity’s voice quivered as Wilbur’s head snapped toward him. Wilbur scowled, bracing himself for yet another person to try to tactfully tell him Tommy was dead, but much to his surprise Quackity shot a strained smile at the pair. “Eyyy Tommy! Good to see you kid. But you uh, really shouldn't be here. The blast from this thing is gonna kill everybody here. Everybody.” Quackity shot Wilbur a pointed look.

Tommy nodded vigorously beside him. “Big Q! Good man, good man, sticking around. You’re right. Listen to what he’s saying Wilbs. We’ve gotta find another way, this is just too risky. What about Phil? We were going to go see Phil soon, we can’t die before that.”

Wilbur stared between them. “But… you… Phil’s probably… since when can Quackity see you?”

“Me and Tommy go way back, man!”

Wilbur glared. “But you’ve been acting like you can’t see him.”

“A stupid prank!” Quackity rushed to assure him. “Dream told me about it on our way to Pogtopia. He said it’d be funny and well, I just got out of a bad situation, I didn’t want to cross dream, so I said yessir! It’s a funny joke, right? It’s funny.”

Wilbur’s heart sank at the mention of dream and Tommy scowled. “I knew Dream was no good! Fuckin’ bastard. I can’t believe they’ve all just been screwing with us!”

“Neither can I Toms. Pretty fucked up.”

“Yeah, sure is, Tommy. Listen, I’m sorry dude, really. But we’ve shared a fair bit of mischief ourselves, right? You know me, I didn’t mean any harm by it. Sometimes I just go along with stupid ideas. You can forgive me, right?”

“Yeah… I guess I do.”

“You do?”

Quackity nodded quickly. “See? And Hey, I’ll make it up to you by helping you two take down Schlatt- just not like this.”

Tommy grimaced. “Yeah. Big Q’s right, Wilbur. You can’t go through with this. Look at me, okay? I really don’t want you to-”

Tommy kept talking but it faded into white noise in Wilbur’s mind. His hand stayed hovering near the button but his thoughts were no longer centered around Manberg’s fiery demise but rather his little brother, breathing and alive in front of him. Wilbur glanced at Quackity. His gaze kept sliding too far to the right or left of Tommy but he kept jumping in to the conversation to add to Tommy’s points whenever Wilbur tried to propose a rebuttal. The two of them built up quite the argument as Tommy slowly slid himself in front of the button.

It felt like they were in there for hours, and though Wilbur's head screamed at him to push the button and get it over with and his ears hurt from Tommy and Quackity continually yelling at him to leave the button alone, Wilbur felt blissfully happy. It was so nice to see someone acknowledging Tommy again for the first time in what felt like forever, and though the boy still seemed focused on and stressed over Wilbur, Wilbur could see a bit of the weight ease off his shoulders whenever Quackity directed a half hearted joke at him to try to lower the tension.

This, this was what Wilbur had needed to see. He couldn't believe he had really fallen for mind tricks again, couldn’t believe he had nearly risked hurting his little brother. He would have to wait on the button today, but he promised himself he wouldn't have to wait much loner. When the day finally came though, Wilbur resolved that Quackity would be spared, and Tommy would be safe and secure, and Wilbur himself would get out fine and move on to their new life. He smiled at Tommy, pat Quackity’s shoulder as he flinched away, and walked out of the button room, freshly assured of his righteousness and Tommy’s reality. Today, the button would wait.

But soon, very soon, their day would come.

Chapter Text

The fog in Wilbur’s head was growing restless. It swirled through his mind constantly, causing him a headache and blocking out hours of each day. He knew it was impatient to be freed, he was too. But it wasn't right yet, Tommy was following him near constantly, though he spoke to Wilbur less and less, seemingly displeased with him, and Quackity and Techno were both keeping an eye on him when they thought he wasn't looking. It was driving Wilbur crazy, and his frustrations had started bleeding into his interactions. He found himself snapping at his supposed allies more and more often, all of them. He couldn't bring himself to feel badly, after all he knew they were all just biding their time to back stab him. Still, he didn't fail to notice the growing distance between them. Tubbo rarely stayed in the ravine now, and Niki and Quackity kept their distance from him whenever they could. Tommy continued to stick by Wilbur’s side, but Wil could see the heavy exhaustion in his eyes, and, if he squinted, Wilbur almost thought he could see resentment there too. Techno rarely emerged from his farm, and Wilbur hated it when he made an appearance. It had been fine, almost funny, when faint disgust and dismay had painted his brother’s features. But the expression he wore now, this dark mournful, hopeless thing, made something in Wilbur shudder. So he left the man alone, even though Tommy grew even quieter when he did so.

Wilbur talked to Quackity some, and Tommy at least seemed to get some small enjoyment in joining those conversations, but Quackity always seemed to find an excuse to avoid speaking with them, and when Wilbur tried bring up Tubbo once the former vice president had practically booked it, looking nauseous.

Wilbur felt lonelier with each day but their treatment of him was nothing less than he had expected, so it didn't bother him too much. What really got to him however was the defeated slump of Tommy’s shoulders and the somber quiet from the usually loud teenager. He seemed to be drawing in on himself more and more and he had lost the passion in his voice for their cause. Wilbur found him, one night, sitting on the hill above Pogtopia’s entrance staring silently up at the stars.

Wilbur climbed up beside him and sat down. He shivered slightly in the cold nighttime air, but Tommy seemed fine so he didn't mention it. Wil turned his head up towards the sky, smiling slightly. “The stars are beautiful tonight.”

A beat of silence was the only response he received for a few moments until Tommy drew in a shaky, wet breath. “Wilbur,” he said in a voice that was painfully small. Wilbur’s heart ached to hear his little brother so distraught.

“What’s wrong?” Wilbur ran through a hundred possibilities in his head, ranging from Techno’s behavior to general frustration over the existence of Manberg. He froze when he heard Tommy’s actual response.

“I’m so tired.”

“What?”

“I’m so tired of being angry, Wilbs.” Tommy tucked his knees to his chest and wrapped his arms around them. Wilbur was reminded of the way he used to curl in on himself when they first found him so many years ago. “I’m so tired of this. I wanted revenge at first, but now – I’m just so tired. I just want to go home.”

“I’m sorry Toms. Just wait a little bit longer, okay? Soon we’ll make our move, and then Manberg will be gone and we-”

“Why? Why does it matter so much, Wil? Why can’t we just go home? I want to go home and see Phil and rest and forget about all this. Why can’t we do that? Let’s just let go of all this and go home.”

“I-”

“Just- think about it. What’ll blowing Manberg up even do? You keep saying we’ll be able to let go and move on once it’s gone, but why can’t we do that now? It feels like we’re just chained tighter to Manberg the longer we try to free ourselves from it.”

“Because this is how it’s supposed to be, Tommy. Can’t you see that? A wound can’t heal if you leave the arrow in it.”

Tommy huffed. “But what if staying here is doing more harm then good? Wilbur, do you remember the night I tried to run away?”

“I remember,” Wilbur replied. His eyes found their way back up to the stars. The fog in his head wasn’t covering them tonight, but he knew it lingered nearby. He wasn't free of it yet.

“It was so clear out, just like this. I thought it’d be the perfect night to run away ‘cause it’d be brighter. I wanted to go back home so badly, even though I knew- I knew they didn't want me. I knew they wouldn't take me back in. But I was so obsessed with hanging on to what I had.”

Tommy trailed off and Wilbur filled the uncomfortable silence with his own memories of the night. “Phil was so frantic when he realized you were gone, we searched all night for you. I remember being so relieved when I found you with just a twisted ankle, hiding in a cave.”

Tommy laughed sheepishly. “Yeah, not my proudest moment. But do you remember what you told me?”

“That running away in the middle of night with just a wooden sword and two apples was a stupid thing for a ten year old to do?”

“Uh, that, yes, but also what you said after you stopped lecturing me. When you sat down next to me and we watched the sunrise from the mouth of the cave, and you told me, ‘look kid, we can’t make you do anything you don’t want to do. So if you really want to leave, we won’t stop you. But take it from someone who’s been where you are right now, chasing after something you’ve already lost won’t do you any favors. You’re welcome to try, but when you’re ready to let go and move on, you’re welcome to come back. We want to help you, if you’ll let us.’”

Wilbur’s throat felt tight and he cleared it, trying to pretend he didn't see the gentle way Tommy was watching him. “You remember that awfully well considering you still ended up leaving.”

Tommy grinned. “Yeah, that was pretty stupid of me, I’ll admit that. But I did remember it. And when I finally got to the point where everything hurt too much and nothing I did seemed to help- I remembered what you said, and I let go. And it was really fucking hard. But when I came back to the house, and you and Phil pulled me into a hug without any lectures or questions, it felt- it felt really good. I felt wanted. For the first time in a long time, I felt okay.”

Wilbur snickered. “What’s the point of this, to tell me how great and wise I am? Because I already know that Toms, I don’t need my ego to be validated by a child.”

Tommy scowled. “Shut up! You’re ruining the moment, dickhead.”

Wilbur laughed. “Sorry, go on. What are you trying to say?”

“I just… I wanted you to know that if this isn't working, its okay to let go and leave it behind. Everything can still be okay Wil. We can go home, together, and be okay again. And Phil will welcome us back like he always does, and we’ll be okay, because we’re family. And that’s the only thing we really need to hold on to.”

Wilbur smiled softly and pulled the boy close, ruffling his hair despite his protests and returning to watching the stars. “I know Toms. Thank you. I’m really glad you’re here, you know? As long as I hold on to you, I know this will all be okay. One way or another, we’ll move on past Manberg. Then we’ll go home, or build a new home, together. And that’ll be soon, okay? I promise.”

Tommy smiled. “Alright, Wil.”

The two brothers stayed curled together like that on the hillside until the sun began to crest over the horizon. Wilbur held Tommy close, wishing he could freeze the moment in time, or even go back to the days of youth and harmless childhood bickering. Back to the days when their biggest worry was who’d get the last piece of Phil’s apple pie. Things used to be so good, he thought with a smile.

Down on ground level, Wilbur saw someone slip out of Pogtopia’s entrance. He stayed quiet and was thankful that Tommy, who was asleep against his side, wasn't snoring. Even through the dim early morning light, he recognized the pink head of hair as its owner glanced about suspiciously before disappearing into the treeline with a piece of parchment clutched in his hand. Realization of yet another betrayal set in, fond childhood memories corrupting as he watched Techno set off towards Manberg. He remembered with bitterness how close they had all once been, how happy they were. Things used to be so good, before Manberg.

Wilbur touched the backup button he kept in his pocket. Things used to be so good. But maybe they could be good again.

Chapter Text

The cold morning air didn't bother Wilbur anymore, his body was buzzing with the need to go go go. He’d known the day would come, and now it had finally arrived. Tommy was asleep and out of harms way, Quackity was nowhere to be seen, and Techno had vanished into the woods.

Techno. The thought of his brother made Wilbur’s blood boil even more but he stamped it down. He knew this was coming, now was the time to move. Techno was undoubtedly going to go warn Manberg of Wilbur’s plans, of that he was certain. But Techno, luckily, still didn't know the woods particularly well even after the time he’d spent here. He didn't have his trident either, likely worried about the noise it would make. So Wilbur was confident he could make it to Manberg before him if he hurried.

Wilbur stood up but paused briefly, looking down at Tommy. He smiled. Tommy had been so patient, and he’d stuck by Wilbur’s side through thick and thin. Wilbur was truly grateful. He was glad he could finally end this so Tommy could be happy and carefree again. Wilbur shrugged off his coat and draped it over his sleeping brother, leaning down to press a soft kiss to the boy’s forehead.

“I’ll be back soon, Toms,” He whispered. “Then we can go home.”

Wilbur quietly scaled down the side of the hill then set off into the early morning, taking care to avoid the trail Techno had taken. He raced through the trees, grinning as fantasies raced through his head. Fantasies that would soon be true. A land corrupted by blood and cowardice, burned to ash. The homes of traitors burning to the ground. Schlatt, bane of Wilbur’s existence, buried beneath the smoldering remains of his country.

Wilbur muffled a cackle as he reached the edge of Manberg. They’d been more on guard since the festival, especially since Quackity left them. The last thing Wilbur needed now was to be caught by one of their patrols.

He snuck past the border, staying out of sight of the flickering torchlight and shying away from any distant voices. He made his way to the button room, scoffing when he saw somebody had tired to cave in the entrance. It didn't matter, Wilbur had made sure to memorize the location after the festival disaster.

He knocked his way through the buildup of dirt and rocks, stumbling slightly over the clutter on the ground, and finally found himself in the button room, alone. Wilbur took a deep breath and smiled. The air here smelled sweeter than any he’d ever breathed, and the background noise of the world faded away, like all of Manberg was holding its breath. This was right. It was finally time.

Wilbur approached the far wall, taking care to engrave each step into his mind. He wanted to remember this moment for the rest of his life. It was destined to be the only piece of Manberg that wouldn’t be lost to the pages of history.

He placed the button into its spot and lovingly ran his fingers over its edges but didn't press it yet. Instead, he gave himself a moment to reflect. He thought of Tommy and Techno and hoped despite his older brother’s betrayal that he wouldn't make it here in time to get caught by the blast. He thought of the months he spent building this nation alongside what were once his dearest friends. He thought of Schlatt, Tommy’s idol, Wilbur’s old friend, soon to be rat food. He thought of Eret and thought maybe the traitor had been right all along, L’Manberg was never meant to be.

He thought of the man he used to be, and he thought of Phil, and he thought of every burden and painful memory that had been crushing him. He thought of the future, and he smiled, and he let his past go.

Wilbur pressed the button.

-----

Wilbur was laying on his back, looking up at the sunrise. Everything hurt, but it was a funny, tingly hurt that made him giggle. He tried to remember how he’d gotten here, watching dark blues melt into yellow and scarlet in the sky.

The smell of smoke and burning flesh reached him and he coughed. Right, the button. He tried to crane his head up to see the remnants of Manberg, but couldn't bring himself move. He knew it must've worked though. It had to.

He remembered pressing the button and pausing for a moment too long to revel in the hiss of redstone activating. He remembered turning tail and running, but tripping over the rubble he’d left in the doorway. He remembered scrambling to his feet, too late, too slow. The first explosion boomed behind him, Wilbur was knocked off his feet as something sharp slid into him. His head had collided hard with the ground and his vision blacked out. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been out. Hopefully not too long, he didn't want Tommo to wake up alone and worry.

Wilbur pouted. He’d barely gotten to hear the first of the screams before he’d blacked out. He wheezed out a soft laugh at the memory he had of someone shrill and panicked screaming as booms rocked the earth. He’d treasure that memory forever.

The laugh, however, soon spiraled into a fit of painful coughing, and he thought the warm stuff that dribbled over his lips might be blood. The coughs had shook his body, and he slowly became aware of how much that hurt, especially around his abdomen. Wilbur reached down to blindly grope at the area, feeling something jagged and hard protruding from his stomach. When he managed to lift his hand to eyelevel, his fingers were painted in red.

Well. That probably wasn’t good.

He let his hand drop back down and took a few deep breaths. Off in the distance he could hear crying, screaming, shouts for help. Closer, he heard footsteps pounding toward him.

“Wilbur!?”

“Teeech. You sound- sound out of breath. Sit down for a minute.”

Techno got closer and leaned over him, looking pissed. He didn't look hurt though. He must not have been near the blast. That was odd, Wilbur thought in the back of his mind. That timing didn't match up. But the rest of him was preoccupied with how woozy and numb he felt, and he struggled to tune back in to what Techno was saying.

Techno seemed to be yelling at him, so Wilbur flashed him his best charming smile. He hoped there wasn't blood in his teeth, but maybe there was since Techno paled and trailed off.

“’M glad you’re okay Techie.” Wilbur slurred. Techno seemed to be processing the situation for a moment, and as his eyes drifted over the rest of Wilbur he got even paler. Something in his brother’s eyes seemed to break, and Wilbur lifted his arm to try to cup his cheek, but his limbs felt so heavy.

“Oh god, Wilbur,” Techno muttered. He sounded a little bit like he might cry as he gathered Wilbur into his arms. “What did you do?”

Wilbur hissed a little when he was moved, but mostly he felt numb. “I’m fi- fine, stupid. I just need- just need a little rest. Then I’ll be good as new.”

Techno held him close, lips thinned into a rigid line. “Wil, you’re delirious. Keep- keep your eyes open, alright?” He kept Wilbur in place with one arm and dug through his bag with the other. “Fuck. Where’s my regen potion? Where is it?” Wilbur thought it was very funny that Techno looked so worried. Why was he worried? Phil wasn't there to scold them yet. Silly Technoblade.

“D’you remember when I broke my arm sparring with you?” Wilbur asked. His voice sounded raspy to his own ears and his throat ached, but he felt so warm huddled against Techno, and his head felt so fuzzy.

Techno stopped rifling through his bag and swallowed heavily. He brought his other arm around to cradle Wilbur as well. “Yeah. I do. You were such a baby about it,” He laughed a little, and it was awfully wet but Wilbur smiled because he couldn't remember the last time he’d heard Techno laugh. “you were actin’ like I ripped it off or something, on purpose too. Phil made me do all your chores until it healed.”

Wilbur grinned. “Phil’s the best. I had it so good- he brought me all kinds of books, ‘nd he made me special chicken soup so I’d stop crying.” Wilbur sighed. “I feel really – really – it hurts a lot, Tech. More than my arm. D’you think he’ll make me soup again ‘till I feel better?”

Techno grimaced and brushed Wilbur’s hair out of his face. “I’m sure he will. But for now you just need to rest, okay?” Techno’s monotone voice broke and his grip on Wilbur tightened. “Just go to sleep. things’ll be better when you wake up.”

Wilbur smiled. He did feel really tired… “You’re babying me. You never do that.”

“I want to, just this once.”

“Mmkay, that’s fine. I like bein’ coddled. Tommy’s the one that throws a fit-” Wilbur’s eyes widened and he struggled to sit up. Pain shot through him but he barely noticed. “Shit. Tommy- where’s- is he okay, Techno is he-”

Techno held him still and Wilbur soon stopped squirming. He didn’t know why, but he didn't have the energy to fight. He felt numb and shaky, and his eyelids felt heavy.

“Don’t worry Wilbs, it’ll be alright.” Techno was shaking as he held Wilbur close to his chest. Something wet splashed onto Wilbur’s face as Techno leaned down to kiss Wilbur’s forehead. “It’ll be okay. You’ll see Tommy again soon. You tell him- you tell him hi for me, okay? I love you Wilbur.”

Wilbur mumbled something, he wasn't even sure what he said at that point. His mouth felt full of cotton. His body buzzed and ached, and Techno was shaking, but then he began humming. Wilbur calmed upon hearing it. He remembered singing that lullaby when Techno’d have nightmares, or when he’d carry Tommy home when he fell asleep in the woods, or when Phil was stressed and asked to hear him sing. It sounded like home. It sounded like safety.

Wilbur fell asleep smiling, dreaming of childhood memories.

-----

Wilbur woke up, once again not knowing where he was. The sun was up in the clear sky and a gentle breeze blew around him, ruffling his hair and the grass he lay in. Birds chirped somewhere nearby and Wilbur closed his eyes, smiling. The pain was gone and with the sun shining down on him Wilbur felt warm and sleepy. He started drifting back asleep until quiet footsteps approached and a shadow fell over him, blocking out the warm sun.

“You’re early,” a voice said, young and surprised and with the gall to sound irritated.

Wilbur opened his eyes to meet a blue stare and blond hair haloed by the sun.

“Tommy?”

“’Ello Wilbur,” Tommy said, and extended his hand with a sad smile. “Welcome to Respawn.”