Chapter Text
“Alright guys I’m going to head out now,” Wilbur said grinning into his microphone. Twenty thousand people had just watched him play a Minecraft challenge with his friends Philza and Technoblade. He had fun, but he was undeniably tired and his social meter was quickly draining. The chat seemed to be alright though as they bid him satisfied farewells.
“No idea when I’ll be live next, but I hope to see you there,” Wilbur winked as he hit end stream. He let out a shaky breath and grabbed his water bottle to take a long sip. He loved streaming, would rather do it than anything else, but it was definitely taxing. Most if not all of his friends were made online and hours or oceans away. Even with a steadily growing fanbase he still felt isolated and alone.
Grabbing his jacket, bag, and uneaten bacon sandwich, Wilbur made his way out of his office. It was already dark outside and the street looked relatively empty- as empty as a London city street could look with only a couple of people straggling along the sidewalk. Wilbur was in the sketchier part of town, but you get what you pay for perhaps.
Wilbur prepared to put his headphones in for his walk home when a soft meow came from the depths of a dark alleyway. Wilbur squinted into the shadows, hoping to see the culprit of the noise but it was far too dark. Aha! He had a phone! Shining the flashlight into the alley he saw in a box a mess of golden blonde fur. The poor thing looked skinny, too skinny, and was shaking from the cold air. The box the kitten was in looked dirty and smelt worse, how long had this cat been left alone here? Wilbur debated for a moment before reasoning that its poor condition meant no one was caring for it, and therefore no one would mind if he took the kitten home with him.
He coaxed the cat out with the remains of his bacon sandwich, the cat chased after him hungrily once it smelt it. While it nibbled on the cold meat, Wilbur swooped in to pick it up. He delicately placed the cat into his satchel to shield it from the chill air and made a mental checklist of all the things he would need to buy from the store to care for his new pet.
Twisting the key into his apartment door, the cat seemed ready to jump out of his bag and into space before them. His apartment wasn’t huge, a far cry from luxury, but it was home and plenty big enough for just himself. The size was never that important when no one visited. The kitten was on the counters in an instant, sniffing leftover ramen packets and dirty laundry that he probably should have done yesterday.
Wilbur grabbed a couple of newspapers and spread them out in the corner of the kitchen. He knew that it was unlikely the cat was potty trained but something was better than nothing. He also set aside some leftover chicken from the night before. Truth be told Wilbur had no idea what cats ate and it was starting to hit him that he was a little unprepared. While he poured a separate bowl for water the cat happily ate the chicken. Hm, maybe I’m not so bad after all.
After getting some temporary things set up for his newly adopted kitten he readied himself for bed. While he brushed his teeth and washed his face, his mind was swimming with thoughts like “Oh I should take him to see a vet soon,” and “Does he have to get neutered?” as well as “What do I even name the thing,” and eventually, “how can I take care of a cat? I can barely take care of myself.” Wilbur paused, looking down at the kitten. It looked right back at him with striking blue eyes, so inquisitive they were almost human-like. Wilbur let out a shaky breath, I can do this
As Wilbur crawled into bed, the cat unexpectedly followed him. Wilbur was in shock as the little thing wrapped itself up in the blankets near his feet and began snoring before Wilbur could even process what just happened. Aren’t stray cats normally apprehensive of strangers? Confused but more tired, Wilbur slowly sank into his bed, careful not to disturb the sleeping kitten. The bundle of warmth at the end of his bed was such a new sensation, but comforting all the same. The soft thrum of the kitten’s purrs lulled Wilbur to sleep as he thought I could get used to this.
The sun was bright in his eyes when Wilbur awoke which was odd for two reasons. Firstly, He normally does not sleep that long- insomnia leaving him with restless, 4 hour nights. And secondly, he keeps his curtains closed shut. Sunlight hasn’t seen the inside of his room since he moved in. Blinking away the morning eye crusties, Wilbur stretched his arms above his head and looked to the bottom of the bed to find it… empty?
No, no, no, no, no. His heart sank to the floor, Maybe it’s in the kitchen or under the dresser or in the closet, he tried to reason, but the open window and billowing curtains confirmed the alternative: His kitten had run away. As Wilbur sat in his bed with his head in his hands and overwhelmed with unexpected grief at the loss of his new friend, he began to wonder how on Earth did a tiny malnourished cat open a window and escape. It makes no sense.
Wilbur began to investigate the propped window sill, but there were no scratch marks or any other sign of the kitten he adopted. The only thing he found was a single strand of curly blond hair caught on the curtains. Something weird was definitely going on- had some curly blond-haired cat burglar come and kidnapped his pet in the middle of the night? Wilbur was going to get to the bottom of this, but first, he needed some supplies.