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Phil, not for the first time, wishes he'd been a little stricter when he'd asked for his boys to write home every once in a while. It's one thing to not hear from any of them for a few months and a completely different monster to have your eldest seemingly accidentally call you when he's monologuing about finally blowing up the nation he started.
The call startles him out of his farming and it only takes a few seconds of hearing Wilbur talking to himself for Phil to put two and two together with what Tommy told him in his last letter. It takes him two minutes to fly back to his world portal, a further three to make his way through the hub to the DreamSMP portal. Wilbur is still talking the entire time, sounding so tired and lost, lamenting his own faults and those of his friends, his family.
"- THE THING I BUILT THIS NATION FOR DOESN'T EXIST ANYMORE!" Phil scrambles for his phone, resisting the urge to kick the portal slowly humming to life in front of him. It's too slow, so unused that it's having trouble even opening. Normally Phil would be grateful for the waiting, gives him time to prepare for introductions to a dozen new people but now all he can think about is Wilbur (and Tommy and Techno because they're both in there too, oh god. Do they know? Are they safely away from the blast zone?)
"- it's over."
"What are you doing?"
"...Phil?" He hears Wilbur startle, the rustle of fabric as Wil finally realises and pulls the phone from his own pocket. Something in him aches at hearing Wilbur calling him by his name. Not father (a favourite of Wilbur's when he was mad), not even dad. Just Phil.
"What are you doing?" He tries again, voice just ever so softer this time. The portal sputters and flickers.
"I-I'm not- I wasn't doing anything!" Sounding so much like a scolded child, Phil can almost see him in his minds eye. Thirteen years old and caught red handed in the cookie jar, if the cookie jar was a hole full of explosives that is.
"We just- we just made Tubbo president! We- we uh- we elected Tubbo! And we won, we won the war! Schlatt's gone! Schlatt's gone Phil so-"
"Uh huh." Phil cuts him off, hears him stutter slightly. Finally, the portal opens up, glowing purple in the dim light of the hub room. Tense and far too stressed, Phil steps into it and focuses on Wilbur. Focuses on his son. It's a little trick he learnt years ago, with just enough willpower and stubborness he can bypass the spawn lock and get right to Wilbur.
Still, a little more information about his location wouldn't hurt either.
"So. You are...where exactly now?"
"....in...L'manburg- there's sort- the area- you wouldn't know it! I don't think you've been here," He's scrambling now, Phil can tell with the way his voice shakes, the way he keeps cutting himself off. Wilbur never was the best at lying, "but it's the area...around L'manburg."
That's enough information for Phil to go off. Tommy had sent him a map of the area a few letters ago. He takes a breath and lets the portal take him, pushing against the initial pull, pushing until it bends and takes him to where he wants, no, needs to be.
The little dug out tunnel Phil finds himself in is cramped, dark, damp. Dirt is pressed against his back but some light filters in from ahead, the flicker of torches and the low murmer of a voice. Ah. So this is where Wilbur hid the detonator.
"I-It's complicated- it's geog-geography and that!" Phil starts making his way forward, footsteps loud in the quiet darkness.
"It's geography and stu-" Wilbur freezes, the tense of his shoulders clear under his jacket when he hears Phil's footsteps. He turns, slowly, like he's afraid and Phil leans against the wall, arms crossed with what Tommy used to call his 'Dad Look' on his face. Somewhere above them fireworks start going off.
"...oh...Phil." For the first time in months Phil looks over his son. There are bags under his eyes, so dark they look more like bruises, half healed cuts and wounds clear on what little skin he has exposed to the chill of the room. His clothes are full of holes, stitched together with whatever thread he could find by the looks of it, dark patches of what Phil can only assume is dried blood splattered here and there. Wilbur looks cold, is all he can think, cold and alone and driven to his wits end.
It hurts almost physically to see his son standing before him and hardly recognising him. The look in Wilbur's eyes is not the same spark he had growing up. He has the eyes of a haunted man who's seen things beyond his years.
"Yeah. In L'manburg you said."
"...the...this is l'man- Ok. I...will admit- do you know what this button is?" Wilbur scuffs his feet against the floor, readjusts his coat sleeves, flicks his hair out of his eyes. He's nervous. Restless. Phil eyes the button and tries to think of a way to get inbetween it and Wil.
"Uh huh. I do."
"Have you heard the- the song...on the walls before- have you heard the song? I was just saying- I made this big point and it was poignant and it was that um," He turns to face the walls, flings his arms out to point at the places where he's scratched the lyrics into the stone, "there was a special place where men could go but- there- it's not there anymore y'know, it's not-"
"It is there. You've just- you've just won it back Wil." Again, Phil watches his son tense up, one hand coming up to fist in his fringe whilst the other grabs at the fabric bunching at his stomach. Even with his back turned away he looks to be in pain and Phil wants nothing more than to bundle him up and take him home.
"I- PHIL I'M ALWAYS SO CLOSE TO PRESSING THIS BUTTON PHIL! I HAVE BEEN- I HAVE BEEN HERE-" There's an almost crazed look in Wilbur's eyes when he spins back around, teeth bared as he slams a fist into the wall next to him. Phil barely suppresses his flinch. Wil must catch it though because he shrinks back on himself, folds up like he's trying to make himself smaller, "-like seven or eight times I have been here. Seven or eight times. Phil I've been here so many times."
Screams start sounding out beneath the din of the fireworks. Dirt clumps fall from the ceiling with some of the blasts and Phil wonders who the hell is fighting if Wil's side had just won.
"They're fighting- they're fighting..." He almost misses it, the way Wilbur looks up at the ceiling, so blank faced Phil can't even begin to decipher what he's feeling. Instead he powers on, shaking his head to rid his hat of any dirt.
"And you want to just blow it all up." A pause. Wil looks at him like a stranger.
"I- I do, I think I do-"
Wilbur takes a step toward the button, eyes fixed on it and Phil takes an instinctive step forward, arms out to grab him. He holds his breath as Wil reaches up a hand to press lightly on the stone next to it.
"I don't even-I don't even know if it works anymore Phil, I don't even know if the button works. I could- I could...press it and it might-"
"Do you really wanna take that risk? There is a lot of tnt, potentially connected to that button." He tries to keep the panic out of his voice, keeping it soft like he used to when Wil would come to him after a nightmare. Wilbur turns to stare at him, a ghost of the boy he once was and Phil can't help but blame himself for this.
"Phil. There was a saying Phil- uh- by a traitor. Once part of L'manburg. A traitor I don't know if you've heard of- Eret?" His blood runs cold. His hands shake, a tremor that he can't hide. Wilbur turns to look at him out of the corner of his eye.
"Wilbur." A plea. Wilbur grins, a cold sarcastic looking thing.
"He had a saying Phil." Time seems to stop for a moment as Phil lunges for Wil, arms outstretched to grab at the back of his coat, at his sleeve. He watches as Wilbur moves his hand over the button, as he presses it with purpose, the quiet click of it the only sound in the room apart from their breathing.
"It was never meant to be!"
With the speed of an instinct honed over many many years, Phil grabs Wil and pushes them both into the corner with Wilbur cradled to his chest and his back to the button. The sizzle of the tnt igniting is deafening in the silence. A second of peace hangs in the air, quiet, safe -
Never in his life has Phil ever experienced an explosion this loud. It feels like it's rattling his very bones with the way the ground shakes, the heat of it scorching him even through his thick robe. All he can do is hold onto Wil and hope the room they're in doesn't cave in. Neither of them have any armour.
In the distance above the crashing sounds of explosions and cave ins and water rushing and the ringing in his ears Phil swears he can hear Tommy scream.
Once the sounds die down enough Phil waits another ten seconds before he even dares to look behind him. What he sees leaves him speechless, breathless, wide eyed with shock.
"Wil! It's all- it's all gone!"
Where there was once a nation is now a crater, deeper than Phil can see from here and slowly filling with water from the lake just to the left. He can see the pictures in his head that Tommy had sent him, even the one's Wilbur had sent him in the early days, of a peaceful place with high walls and a van. It's all gone.
Wilbur pushes himself out of Phil's arms, laughing shrilly as he holds his head in his hands.
"MY L'MANBURG PHIL! MY UNFINISHED SYMPHONY FOREVER UNFINISHED!" And he swings his arms wide, tears in his eyes as he turns his back to the destruction to face his father, a manic smile on his face, "IF I CAN'T HAVE THIS, NO ONE CAN PHIL!"
"...oh my god." Phil looks at the boy who was once his son and he wants to scream. When did he go wrong? When did Wilbur change so drastically? Why didn't he do more? He stumbles slightly as something- a sword- is shoved into his hands. Wilbur is still grinning so wide it looks more like a grimace as he pushes the sword hilt into Phil's hand, holding the blade to his chest.
"Kill me Phil. Phil kill me, kill me now, do it," He ignores Phil's sputtered responses, turning to point out of the hole and toward the crowd standing there facing off against Techno. There's Tommy's shock of bright blonde hair amisdt them, covered in grime and rubble. "Phil stab me with a sword, murder me now, kill me! LOOK! They all want you to! Do it Phil, kill me!"
"I- I can't- YOU'RE MY SON!" Something drips onto Phil's hands where they grip the sword and it takes him a moment to realise they're tears. For a moment Wilbur looks taken aback, scared even before he grits his teeth, pressing himself against the blade harder. The point of it rips through his shirt, blood starting to stain the fabric.
"PHIL KILL ME!" He spits out, all anger and bitterness.
"No matter what you do- no matter what you've done- I can't-" Phil's voice sounds weak even to his own ears.
"Phil. This isn't- it's not- look LOOK! HOW MUCH WORK WENT INTO THIS AND IT'S GONE!" With something akin to a sob, Wilbur pushes himself even closer and Phil can only see pain and regret in his eyes. He swallows and relents.
The sword goes cleanly though Wilbur's chest and he lets out a sigh, finally finally untensing.
Phil stands close by, leading Wilbur to lean against the wall before he respawns. He doesn't bother removing the sword. He's caused his son enough pain.
"God you couldn't just- you couldn't just win, you had to- to throw it all away." Wilbus laughs weakly, turning his head to the side to cough blood into his fist when it becomes too much. Phil counts the seconds to his respawn, waiting for Wil's body to dissapear in a puff of smoke so he can take the sword and go find his other sons.
Except, it doesn't. Wilbur stays against the wall, a soft smile on his face as he hums.
Phil feels like his world is falling in on itself. He can't breath. Something lodges itself in his throat, a fresh wave of tears burning behind his eyes. With a shaky hand he reaches out to brush the hair from wilbur's face, falling to his knees.
"Wil? Wilbur are you- is this-" The look his son gives him is all the answer he needs. A sob rips itself from his mouth as he shuffles closer, pulling Wilbur as gently as he can to rest in his lap. For the first time in a long time, Phil thinks Wilbur looks content. He can't think of anything to say, any apologies now would be too late, too hollow sounding so all he does, all he can do is hold his eldest close and blame himself.
Why the hell didn't he ask first. Why the hell didn't he stop to think for a second that Wil had died again, for gods sake he'd been through two wars! Of course he'd died at some point and he'd never told Phil and now he was the once to take his sons final life and there was nothing he could do to make it better. How was he going to tell Tommy, Techno?
How could he even face them after this.
"....are you proud of me dad?" Phil startles at Wil's quiet question, tries to smile, feels it waver as more tears stream down his cheeks, get caught in his stubble. One hand cards through Wil's hair, the other holding his hand.
"Of- of course son. I've always been so so proud of you. I'll-I'll always be proud of you." Wilbur smiles, opens his eyes just slightly to look at him. A coughing fit takes him suddenly and all Phil can do is watch as his son slowly fades more and more.
"Phil, Dream said earlier that there- there was no traitor Phil. He said hey y'know what? There is no- no traitor he said to me. And you know what?" A hand comes up to grip at his collar, desperate, "He- he fucking lied aaahhahah. He lied, dad it's Techno, Techno- he's the traitor-" The statement almost shocks Phil out of his teary state, heart thundering in his chest as his eyes zero in on Techno in the distance. He makes a frightening silhouette against the dying light, adorned in his netherite armour with a sword and a crossbow at his side. Phil sees his son and the Blood God as one and once again curses himself for not intervening sooner.
"And he has. Dad he has eight withers...ready to go." Wil's other hand comes up to grip the other side of his collar as he tries to pull himself up slightly, grunting with the pain and effort. Phil pushes him back down, shushing him desperately as he tries to breathe through lungs that are failing.
"Oh my god I need to- I need to get out of here, what do you mean? Where's- Tommy, where is he Wil?"
"Go Dad. Save them. Please." His grip loosens and his eyes close and Phil knows he's gone. Wilbur breathes a final sigh, looks at peace, looks for all intents and purposes like he's just sleeping. Phil is suddenly struck with the memory of carrying him to bed oh so many years ago, the boy fast alseep in his arms but happy. The weight of the world feels like it's on his shoulders as he hunches over, resisting the urge to scream and wail.
Tommy screaming at Techno shocks him out of his mourning. Phil takes one last look at his son and presses a kiss to his forehead, brushing the hair out of his eyes. He'll have to come back for the body later, take it to their home for a proper funeral (he would not let Wilbur be buried in the one place that hurt him so much he was almost beyond recognition, that much he promised himself)
With a heavy heart, he takes the sword from Wilbur's chest and stands, looking out toward where his other two sons are facing off against eachother. Watches as Tommy screams at Techno, watches as Techno stands impassive with his crossbow pointed at the people behind Tommy. A warning to leave them both alone.
Phil wants nothing more than to rip this damn world in two for what it's done to his boys, become their avenging angel of death, take up his mantle as a mighty warrior once more. But that can wait.
He's already lost one son tonight and he sure as hell isn't going to lose another.