Work Text:
Nikki ran her fingers through her knotted hair, unbrushed and unkempt— she had no time for stuff like that anymore.
Everything was too much, far, far too much.
Everybody relied on Nikki— Tommy and Tubbo especially. She took care of them, made sure they weren’t in any immediate danger, slipped them food, watched them from a distance and was always there for them when things went south. She cared about them, so so much. And it hurt so bad.
Recently, Wilbur had been added to the list of people she spent all day stressing over. She was watching him spiral, watching him turn into something that scared the hell out of her. She was trying so, so hard to stop it, trying so hard to make him better— but it wasn’t working.
And through all of this, she felt alone. Completely alone. She took care of everyone, and no one took care of her.
She didn’t... need anyone, of course. She had taken care of herself alone for this long, but, god, it would be nice to not always be the one worrying over everyone.
Wilbur was in the next room, fretting over something, mumbling to himself about some insane plan he was probably coming up with. She was sat alone, arms wrapped around herself as she zoned out, staring into the floor.
A familiar ache creeped into her chest, tightening around her throat and threatening to cut off her air supply. Not this again, anything but this.
Her hands shook, her stomach turning as nausea sat ever present in her nearly empty stomach. Everything was too much, far too much— she felt the sudden urge to run kick in, as if that would fix everything.
A small sob escaped her, tightening the grip around herself as she tried to push the panic down, tried to swallow the emotion rising in her. Another choked noise— too loud this time— came out, alerting the man in the room opposite her. She heard his shuffling pause, mumbling cease.
“Nikki?”
She barely registered the words, too busy drowning in her own fear. Her gaze didn’t move from the floor, remaining still as her eyes unfocused.
A very tall figure was suddenly right next to her, kneeling down gently to meet her height.
“Nikki, you okay?”
She couldn’t even make herself respond. More tears fell out, body shaking from her core. All the emotion that had been building up for months was spilling out, all her fears, all her sleepless nights and time spent watching everything fall apart around her helplessly.
After a moment of silence, another strangled sob fell out, her head shaking every so slightly. If she was in her right mind, she would have been endlessly embarrassed; but right now, she couldn’t bring herself to care.
A cold hand was suddenly on her hand, uncharacteristically and surprisingly gentle. She turned her head, gaze finally focusing back, meeting Wilbur’s concerned brown eyes.
He looked... different. There was no crazed look in them, no underlying danger. Less like a caged animal, and more like a... friend. Like how he... used to look at her. Before all this. Before everything fell apart.
“What’s wrong? Why are you crying? Are you hurt?”
She just stared at him, trying to capture this moment, so she wouldn’t forget how he was looking at her. This wouldn’t last, she knew. But god, she longed for it to.
Words weren’t working for her, so she shook her head again, placing her free hand on top of his, wrapping it around his gently, trying to signal that she needed help. She didn’t know what help, honesty, anything would do.
Wilbur didn’t seem to understand what she meant. He just stared at her, trying to gauge the situation. After another moment of consideration, he gently helped her up, leading her towards what she assumed was his bedroom, but she could barely see her surroundings anymore. She was sat on his bed, brain too fuzzy to care about the situation, tears still spilling out as her heart threatened to tear itself in half.
“Nikki? Can you talk to me?”
She elected to stare at the floor this time instead of him. It felt easier. Once again, she shook her head, registering that he was sitting beside her, a hand in her hair, gently running through, offering a comfort.
“Okay. That’s fine. Just... I’m going to ask you questions, you shake your head yes or no, okay?”
She nodded to indicate yes, still not meeting his gaze, but enjoying the physical affection greatly.
“Okay. Are you hurt?”
He was met with a head shake, a no. He paused for a moment, unsure what to ask next. “Do you need something to eat?”
A nod.
“How about water?”
Another nod.
“Okay. I can do that. Is it okay if I touch you?”
She nodded again. His hand was already in her hair, but it wasn’t like that was unusual for them. Any physical affection right now, though... sounded perfect.
“Alright. I’m going to go get food and water, and maybe a hairbrush, okay? It won’t take long.”
When met with another nod, he stood up, swiftly walking away to get what he needed, returning within minutes with some berries and vegetable soup, along with water and the first hairbrush he found. He was very, very low on food, all of the nation was. But he would let her have all of it with no hesitance any-day.
“Here,” he handed her the bowl, holding the strawberries and water in his hand, the spoon already with the soup, “Take your time.”
Nikki’s heart ached. Ached from the kindness.
Wilbur hadn’t been like this in... so, so long now. It was so nostalgic, so painful. Watching him come undone, watching him blow things up and kill and hurt himself— it had gotten to her. It really, really had. But this... this was so Wil. It was so him.
“Thank you,” said the quietest, most broken voice Wilbur had ever heard.
He smiled sadly, running the brush through her hair gently as she ate, taking the most care he possibly could not to tug on it or hurt her.
“Always.”
Once she finished, he took the bowl aside, handing her the strawberries and water, having finally finished with her hair. He always admired her hair, it was so long and pretty, dark with those blonde streaks in front. Nikki always presented herself well, intimidating but soft, kind yet strong.
She hadn’t felt very strong recently.
Wilbur sat back down, his hand once again finding purchase in her hair, only serving to relax her this time, having got out all the tangles. She smiled at the affection, his free hand on his lap, just resting there as she ate.
When all the strawberries were gone— and the water drank down— she met his eyes.
“Wil?”
He was startled by the vocal response, nearly jumping.
“Yeah?”
“C-can... can you promise me... that you won’t hurt... them?”
Wilbur was silent for a moment, face unchanging. “Who is ‘them’, Nik?”
“...Tommy and Tubbo.”
There was another moment of quiet between them. Wilbur put a hand in hers, lacing fingers and pulling her closer to him, which she easily accepted, practically nuzzling into him.
“I... I don’t know if I can promise that.”
She felt her heart begin to ache again.
Tears ran from her eyes again— although, they had never really stopped, had they?
A small noise was muffled by Wilbur’s sweater as she hid her face in his chest, wrapping her shaky arms around him. He laid them back, letting her position herself until she was comfortable.
“I’m sorry, Nik. I’m so, so sorry.”
A million memories ran through her head.
Schlatt, Wilbur, Tommy, Tubbo, explosions, burning, blood, screaming.
Wilbur holding her, laughing at a joke she made. The campfire in front of them kept them warm, their smiles even warmer. Hand in hand, just talking. About anything; about everything.
And here they were.
“I know, Wil.”