Work Text:
Wilbur slammed the door and closed the door, throwing all his weight against it and sliding down until he sat on the cold floor. His throat was sore from the discussion of screams and his eyes were red from the crying he was holding.
It's all so stupid
He hates himself for shouting everything that was hidden deep in his mind, that was killing his heart. He did it so that no one would know and everything went up in the air by a stupid fight.
Everything he worked on, all the walls he put on and the smiles he gave, all served no purpose as long as he was a sensitive idiot and decided to yell at Phil, Tommy and Techno.
A part of him blames Tommy for being such a stubborn and tactless boy, but the most rational and most self-deprecating part says it's all his fault, and who is he to doubt his conscience?
Wilbur lets out a tired breath and tilts his head back.
There is silence in the corridor and there is no light coming out of the crack. All trapped in their own rooms.
His eyes scanned the slightly messy room until they stopped at the window.
'Would anyone miss me? '
He closes his eyes tightly. He shouldn't think about it, he shouldn't be selfish.
But, it would be cool to try freedom. Flying with nothing chaining you to the ground. Wilbur was always chained to the image of the family, the ghost of the Soot's, it was not their fault, not really, but he couldn't help feeling bitterness at being compared to Technoblade's twin and middle brother, the student known to be the best of better, or to be Philza's forgotten son, or to be the grumpy brother of Tommy "Theseus" Innit, one of, if not, the biggest troublemaker who crossed this small town.
'Stop. You are being a horrible person, they are your family. It's your fault that you're not a highlight '
He rubs his tired eyes. Here it is.
It was partially true, Wilbur was not a star. He was always an average student, like many others, he was known in the debate club only, in the theater he never received important roles, so his name didn't even appear right on the presentation posters, but it's not like he made an effort .
He was popular in parts, but he had almost no real friends. His fake popularity came more from the fact that he was basically a message boy, passing notes to his brother from people who wanted private lessons and also so that they could at least see Phil from afar. His only real friends were Eret, Niki and Fundy, but he never bothered them, they had their own problems and, deep down, Wilbur was afraid that they would leave him if he opened up too much. Even Tommy was more important than he was, but he was the one who chose to walk away.
There were prestigious trophies and medals on a shelf in the room, all named after his brother, hell, even Tommy had a 3rd place trophy at the science fair.
Wilbur had nothing, at least, nothing to give academic pride to.
In his room, Wilbur had his only prize, a well-kept guitar and his greatest treasure. The only time Wilbur was featured in anything was at a talent show, two cities away, Niki, Eret and Fundy had convinced him to participate and he went, winning 1st place and the guitar. His family did not come, his father was traveling, Tommy was out and Techno busy at a study club late at night, and besides, music was not as important a thing as winning an advanced calculus competition in which it picked up almost every student of the state.
'Now you're being dramatic'
"Shut up" Wilbur murmurs in the dark, feeling a headache forming and a pain behind his eyes.
So, no, he doesn't think anyone would miss him. Maybe the trio, but they would have each other and Tommy had Phil and Techno, in addition to his friends.
'What's the point of staying here, anyway?'
He doesn't know how to answer.
Wilbur crawls over to the bed of shaggy sheets and throws himself on the cold surface, reaching for the headphones without looking and pressing play.
Pack yourself a toothbrush, dear
Pack yourself a favorite blouse
The melody seeped into his head and stirred his bones.
A new feeling has emerged
'Run'
Take a withdrawal slip
Take all of your savings out
Wilbur stood up with a euphoria that didn't look like it was his. Grabbing the school bag and emptying it completely, running to the locker.
'Cause if we don't leave this town
We might never make it out
He grabbed some clean T-shirts and stuffed them in his bag, along with his wallet and papers.
I was not born to drown
Baby come on
He opened the bedroom door and ran down the stairs, surprisingly, without making a sound. He opened the fridge and packed a small sandwich, then went upstairs and almost stumbled in the process.
Forget what Father Brennan said
We were not born in sin
He put his yellow sweater over his pajamas and put on a brown aviator jacket, put on his wine beanie, he put on boots and hung his backpack on his back. His cell phone was in his hands and he just needed the charger, when he unplugged it, stuffed it in his pocket and took the guitar case.
Let your mother know you're safe
And by the time she wakes
Wilbur wrote a scrawled note and dropped it on the desk.
'I won’t come back'
And he disappeared into the night.
We'll have driven through the state
We'll have driven through the night
Baby come on
When it was 4 am, it started to rain.
Fortunately, Wilbur reached an almost empty bus station when the storm started. There was almost no one but a few people. A more distant girl, fiddling with her cell phone, a guard leaning, talking to the ticket clerk, a janitor resting with a radio beside her and a boy, looking like he was his age, maybe a little younger, he had a cigarette hanging between his fingers, a notebook in his lap and he was sitting on the bench support, resting his feet on the wood.
In a moment of madness, Wilbur sat beside him, placing his backpack and guitar case on the floor beside his feet.
The stranger came out of his daydreams and raised an eyebrow at Wilbur.
His hair was dirty and messy blond, he had freckles spread across his face, his eyes were a shade of forest green, he had a scar that ran from his forehead to his right cheek, in addition to other marks and dirt on his face. His clothes were also green and shabby, a sweatshirt and a jacket over him, his pants were dark and torn at the knee and he wore black boots, wore bracelets around his wrists and had a pierced ear.
He was either a punk or homeless
"I'm not homeless" he replied, frowning
He said it out loud
Holy shit, he said it out loud
"Ah, god, I'm sorry! I didn't mean--" Wilbur said, almost desperately, blushing in agony and hoping he wouldn't get punched
"Relax, I'm used to it" He laughed, taking a sip and blowing smoke. Wilbur groaned, burying his face in his hands and sinking into the bench
This is embarrassing
"I'm really sorry" he said again, but the stranger waved his hand
"Look, why don't we start different? I'm Dream, nice to meet you" he held out his hand and Wilbur returned the gesture
His hands were firm and callused, stained with graffiti and dirt.
"Wilbur. Wilbur Soot"
"So, Mr. Soot" he smiles, taking another drag and blowing smoke "What are you doing here, in this rain, at three in the morning?"
'What was he doing there?'
Wilbur until now did not know what to answer. Was he running away or just taking a break? He didn't know if he was going to continue with this crazy plan or if he was going to be a coward and come back when the rain passed.
"I... I'm still deciding"
Dream nods in recognition.
"What about you?"
"Oh, just in passing" Dream replies, smiling slightly "I'm heading towards the ocean"
Wilbur was never the beach. Must be nice.
"If that's not too nosy. What are you going to do?"
"Visiting my brother. I promised to come back, so I'm doing it after a long time," he replies, putting his cigarette between his teeth and taking a pencil and a pocket knife in his pocket "Hmp huh?"
"What?" he asked, laughing lightly
"Are you a musician?" he asked again, now taking out his cigarette before putting it on again
"Ah..." his eyes go to the guitar at his feet "Well, more or less, I think I want to work with this"
"Hm..." Dream hummed, stubbing out his cigarette, pressing it on the seat and crushing it with his feet. Fortunately, the bank didn't catch fire, he opened the knife and started to scratch the pencil wood "It must be cool. I always wanted to write a song. I bet it's already famous, considering that your suitcase looks expensive"
Wilbur laughs, a little bitter and a little fun "No, I only performed once. It was a talent show award"
"Wow. Can I hear?"
"What?" he opened his eyes wide
"Can I hear it? If it's okay?" Dream repeats
A warm feeling lodges in his chest when he frantically nods, stuttering with excitement "Sure! I can play"
Wilbur opens his briefcase and gently removes the instrument, placing it on his lap and arranging his posture. He strums along the strings, creating a melody before starting the chords.
You know it takes a lot to move me
So if you figure it out, tell me
His voice started out soft and low.
I trace figures on your smile lines
Work a formula to cure me?
He closed his eyes, immersing himself in the music.
And I'm lonely
There I said it
Nine million people
I always seem to add them up
He stopped strumming before starting again. A light melody accompanying the rain.
I could go away
I could pack my things and be gone before you wake
You know I've tried hard to love me too
It always seems to fall in through
Maybe one day I'll live in La Jolla
Drinking cocktails out over the water
My own personal sunset
To give each day its own diploma
And you know it's funny
Amid my backseat taxi jaunts
I'm trying to ignore the skyline
So I don't figure out where you
He finally rested his hands on his lap, the two boys enjoying the silence and absorbing what they just heard.
"That... that was amazing" Dream said and Wilbur stared into his green eyes "Dude, that was really beautiful"
"You think?" he couldn't help being insecure, but he smiled, nodding
"I mean it. You have talent, whoever knows you must be proud of you"
It hurt to hear that, even if it shouldn't. Wilbur was nobody's source of pride, he was just a confused boy, forgotten among the family photo and one more he, hundreds of others like him, average and normal.
"Okay... by your face, I said the wrong thing" he says, frowning and Wilbur comes out of his trance, about to apologize and say it wasn't his fault, but Dream continued "Do you want to talk about this?"
He wanted? Say confessions to a stranger?
Wilbur sighs, rubbing his eyes
"It's just... almost nobody knows that I sing. My family doesn't know, or they just don't care. We --- I had a fight with them and, maybe I went crazy, but it's just ... I want to run away, there is not much to lose and no one will miss me, maybe they will, but they will forget me easily. Does it make sense or is it stupid? "
"Why do you think they won't miss you?" the blonde asked, now hunched over the notebook, but he knew the other was listening
"It has always been like this. My brother is one of the best and my father is busy because of my younger brother. I am just the twin brother and not at all brilliant and the forgotten son, that no one knows the name" he sighs heavily "And I have some friends, but they have their own lives and problems, and to be honest, I didn’t try hard to create a bond "
He scowls "Well... this sucks. I mean, I don't think you hide that you sing, so it's just their asshole not realizing that their son and brother has a professional guitar. Besides, a friendship is a two-way knife, they need to strive to reach you just as you need to reach them. It was something they taught me "
Wilbur snorts, good-natured
"Is that why you want to run away? There's nothing holding you in this place so are you going to follow your dream?"
He blushes "When you say it out loud, it looks stupid"
"No. It is not, believe it from someone who has already done this" Dream says, holding the pencil and the notebook, before slipping abruptly to sit upright on the bench "I already had that kind of thinking, except the dream part, even though my name is literally Dream, I never had a dream, I was always kind of grounded, you know "
"Did you try to escape too?" the brunette asks
"I am here, am I not?" he smiles slightly, but contains a little regret "I left my" family "two years ago, Wilbur"
"Oh..." he clears his throat "I'm sorry"
"Why are you apologizing?" he laughs
"Force of habit, sorry--" Dream looks at him with an amused and mocking look "Forget it"
The greenish guy laughed, like a kettle - probably his lungs were weak from the cigarette - and Wilbur punched him in the shoulder "Idiot"
They faced the empty, wet road. The storm now boils down to a light drizzle. Wilbur breathed in the smell of wet earth, wondering why he hadn't gone to buy a bus ticket.
The thoughts gradually returned.
'You are being a coward. You said you wanted to go, why aren't you going? Give up? You always gave up, that's why nobody sees you. You never try to do something to shine, hidden in a bubble like a fearful kitten. You're a coward, Wilbur '
'You need to go back. It is your fault that you are not seen. Do you think it will be better to run away than fix it? This is just being dramatic, you will regret it and you will need to face them when you return. See more disappointed looks and concerns you caused. Once again being a burden, as you have always been '
"Hey, Wil? Can I offer any advice?"
"What?" he turns to face the greenish, feeling his cheeks wet
"Well... you seem to be thinking a lot. So, I would like to give you a little peace of mind" Dream says, going back to drawing something he can't see "Can I?"
There is nothing better to do.
He sighs tiredly, wiping away the tears "Sure..."
"Okay. Like I said, I'm going to visit my brother. We aren't really brothers, but we acted like we were. My family was a little fucked up and he was everything I considered family, but then, he died" he paused , biting his lip and dropping the pencil on the paper "When he died, nothing else held me in that place and no one would miss me, so I did like you, packed my things and ran away"
"I was left alone, walking between states and crossing the country. Finding jobs for a short time just to have enough money for a bus, food or a motel to sleep. Sometimes I hitchhiked and if people were kind enough, I would be able to go without spending anything. I had a hard time, but I met new people. I was an impulsive child, but ... really, I don't totally regret what I did "
Dream turns his hands in his pockets, taking out a cigarette and a lighter, raising him "I have mixed feelings about this. A part of me regrets not having finished high school and starting a college that I liked, but... another part of me knows that I would have left the same way. I hated my house, everything I cared about doesn't exist anymore and I found better things to smile on the road "
"I think you made me more confused" Wilbur laughs tearfully
"Sorry..." he lets out smoke from his mouth and pulls the sheet out of the notebook "I wanted to give you a new perspective"
He holds it out and Wilbur takes it, seeing a drawing of him sitting with the guitar in his lap, eyes closed and hands on the strings. He can't help but smile.
"The choice remains yours. You can choose to leave, play your music for the world, live on the road like I did, the stars being your roof and your family being a bunch of strangers that you will keep in your heart, but that unfortunately will need leave, or... you can come home "
"I thought you were going to give a speech about the good things I would have at home"
Once again, a smile opens on Dream's face.
"You are the one who will know the good things about your home, Wil. Do you have any good things there?"
It makes him hesitate.
He had? He always laughed when Tommy tried to fight Techno, or when Fundy got angry when Wilbur called him "my champion" as if he were talking to a child, or when Niki baked cookies and when Phil came back from a trip, when he I heard Techno talking about mythology, when he and Eret walked around the square, when Tommy played with his friends.
"Maybe I have... not many..." Wilbur sighs, holding the paper tightly in his hands, but Dream puts a comforting hand on his shoulder
"If you do something good, even if it is a little, there is a way for you to have more. Call some of your friends for ice cream, or I don’t know, play a trick with your brother. Anything, Wilbur"
"But... but what if I regret it? What if I go, but want to stay? What if I stay and want to go?"
"That's why it's a choice. You can't do both, at least not now. It's better to regret it at the beginning than to realize that you were wrong at the end of the road, when you can't go back. It doesn't matter that the way you go, Wil, there will always be regrets and good things, you just need to see them. Sometimes it gives you a headache, but it's worth it. "
Wilbur closes his eyes and smells the nicotine and the wet earth.
Got a lot of hunger and
Got a lot of big dreams and
Even though I'm mining gold
I'm missing home somehow
He can hear Dream starting to hum a song and feels the cold morning wind on his face.
Been a lot of hard days and
Been a lot of long nights and
Even though I love the road
I'm missing home somehow
'There are other things. You know it'
Three in the morning and I'm looking for air
Check on your breathing and I get out of bed
He likes the morning light that hits his room. He likes the lake frozen in the winter periods.
Flip on the TV and I look at the news
And I'm getting confused cause this isn't our room
He likes the car trips they took when Tommy was 3 years old. See the landscape on the road, when they went up to the mountains.
Where have we gone and how did we get here?
Where would I be in life had we not met yet?
He likes his bed, likes the music records that Tommy insists on playing and humming along with the melody while writing in his room.
What does it take to be happy?
What does it take to be satisfied?
He likes it when after weeks of exams, he, Niki, Fundy and Eret went to the cafeteria and ordered wafles and milkshakes to celebrate
And I'm thinkin 'of mama and the look in her eyes
When I said I'm a dreamer and I kissed her goodbye
I took to the path with nothing to lose
And I'm feeling alone but I'm paying my dues
He remembers the last time he hugged his father. He should do this more. He should hug Tommy and Techno too, but he would probably be bitten or rejected, Techno doesn't like hugs, but he likes Wilbur's braids.
When Wilbur opens his eyes again, he doesn't even bother to wipe the tears off his face.
"I think I made up my mind"
"Hm... and what would be your decision, Mr. Soot?" Dream asks, swallowing again and blowing out the smoke
The sky starts to turn slightly pink and blue, but the gray is still not gone.
"I will stay" he says, and there is no other voice doubting himself
"Well... I'm happy with your decision" Dream gets up, grunting for being seated for so long, he puts his notebook in his backpack and puts it on his back "I'll accompany you home"
"What? You don't need to--" Wilbur almost wakes up, but the blonde laughs
"Don't worry. I'm doing this because I want to"
"But what about your bus?" he asks, putting his backpack on his back and taking the guitar case
"He only leaves at 8 am, I have plenty of time. Besides, I want to look for a place to eat, I haven't eaten since yesterday" He grins "Lead the way, Wilbur Soot"
Wilbur laughs as the two walk away from the road.
When they arrive in front of the little yellow house, Phil is already running up to him.
Wilbur I expect everything, shouting or even punishment, but what he received was much better.
A hug.
He feels tears pooling in his eyes when he hugs his father back.
"I thought we had-- I lost you"
"I'm here... I... I'm sorry, Phil"
The older blond doesn't respond, choosing to bury his hands between his son's brown strands and hide his face in the yellow sweater.
"Wilbur!"
The two had to move away from the embrace when the boy appeared, throwing himself against his brother's body.
"Holy shit, don't do that again! You son of a bitch!" Tommy screams as he punches Wilbur in the chest, which gradually turns into sobs and an almost desperate hug
Wilbur looks up and sees Techno standing at the door. He pretends not to see his bloodshot eyes and matted hair, still in his pajamas even when it's time to go to school. He chooses to smile and run his hands through Tommy's blond hair.
"I'm here now..."