Work Text:
The wind was whipping around Wilbur’s face and his bare hands had long since lost their feeling, gripping the rope separating his shaking feet from the drop into the ocean. The water was a leaden gray and rolling thunder clouds covered the entire sky. Somewhere down the street, a flock of seagulls were decimating a thrash bag behind a restaurant
.
It’d been a while since Wilbur had come down to the docks. With everything going on with, you know, his little brothers joining the mafia and all, he hadn’t really had time for a mental breakdown like he used to. Luckily that wasn’t a problem anymore, seeing as Tommy and Tubbo were currently with Techno God-knows-where, having fun and probably committing multiple felonies along the way, so Wilbur had nothing to occupy his time with. He didn’t mind, though.
He minded. Oh God, did he mind. The wind whipped around his ears and pulled at his hair that was stubbornly poking at his eyes, and his hands were starting to go numb apart from the tingling feeling of windburn, and he felt like he was going to start crying any second now. If his hands hadn’t been gripping the railing like his life depended on it they would’ve probably shook enough to pull a muscle. The stormy sea in front of his eyes felt like nothing compared to the twisting, burning feeling in his stomach. He knew what it was, had dealt with it many a time before; uselessness, the knowledge that the only reason he was still around was some lingering sense of responsibility and, perhaps, attachment. There was no use for him anymore; he’d been the one to look after the boys before, but now that Techno and Phil had come into the picture, even that was covered. He wasn’t stupid; he knew that Phil and Techno could handle the boys far better than he ever could wish to, and that the two men could actually match their abilities instead of dragging behind like the dead weight Wilbur was. The only reason Phil had bothered to keep him around even now that Tommy and Tubbo were fairly competent on their own was probably the sentimentality of the old man; after all, Wilbur was Tommy and Tubbo’s brother, and kicking him out would not go down that well with them.
With a sigh, Wilbur dragged a hand down his face and was mildly startled to see it come away wet- he hadn’t realised that he was crying. He blinked a few times and dropped his gaze back to the rolling waves beneath him. It’d be so easy. It wouldn’t be what Wilbur had planned for himself- ever the drama queen, he couldn’t stand to view his life as anything less than a memoir in the progress of being written, and frankly, the gray waves of some shitty little town were not poetic enough for him- but it would have to do, if nothing else worked.
These thoughts were cut short when Wilbur distantly realised that his phone was buzzing. With numb hands, he fished the offender out of his pocket and squinted at the screen, cursing the brightness of it compared to the darkness around him. Techno was calling him, which was weird in itself, but Techno was also supposed to be out on a job at the moment and definitely wouldn’t have any need for Wilbur’s input. With furrowed brows, Wilbur clicked the ‘accept call’ button and brought the phone to his ear.
“Wilbur, where are you? We’ve been lookin’ for you for the past hour, you’re not answerin’ calls or messages, we thought you were dead for fuck’s sake!” Techno sounded mad. This was bad, because Techno never sounded mad. Wilbur was slowly starting to panic.
“Uhhh, hi Techno! Long time no see, I thought you were still on a work trip?” Wilbur’s face was numb, the wind was picking up and whipped loudly around his ears.
“Will, where are you? Send me your location, I’m comin’ to pick you up.”
Wilbur closed his eyes for a second and breathed in slowly. His hands shook, and he was pretty sure he had started crying again at some point. The tears burned his cold skin like a lighter on his worse nights. “Yeah- yeah, sure. I’m down at the piers right now. Give me a second, I’ll send you the address.” He hated the way his voice shook and broke, hated the way he had to retype his message multiple times, fingers clumsy in the cold and panic freezing his limbs.
He only got an affirmative grunt and a “I’ll be there in a second, don’t do anythin’ dumb.” in response before Techno hung up on him. Wilbur’s place wasn’t too far from the docks, but it was enough time for Wilbur to build up into a proper panic.
He stared down at the waves and tried to breathe against the weight closing up his throat. His eyelids felt sweaty. There was an old soda can stuck on a small ledge below his feet. Wilbur kicked a loose rock and watched as it hit the soda can and they both tumbled into the grey water.
Suddenly, the pier was bathed in light and Wilbur raised his head to see the headlights of a familiar car pointing at him. There was the sound of a car door opening and a figure got out of the car. Wilbur blinked a few times and finally managed to make out Techno’s face, the usually blank look shaded with worry and concern.
“Wilbur, what the fuck are you doing? Get away from the edge, jesus.” Techno walked forwards and before Wilbur realised what was happening, there was a hand wrapped around his arm and he was getting pulled away from the edge of the pier. Wilbur stumbled a bit, legs numb after standing still for god knows how long, before turning to follow Techno to the car.
The car was silent while Techno reversed out of the pier, only the quiet background noise of Techno’s questionable music choices - this time, a 2010’s pop mix- crackling through the car radio. Wilbur refused to look at the other man, fixing his eyes on the little Christmas tree-shaped air freshener hanging from the rear-view mirror. It had lost its scent before Wilbur had ever stepped into the car, but for one reason or another, it stuck around. Wilbur watched it swing around as Techno stopped the car at a Walmart parking lot. He didn’t turn the car off, letting the motor run as he turned to stare at Wilbur.
“Will.” His voice sounded hoarse in a way that made inexplicable guilt stab at Wilbur’s guts. He felt the man’s eyes drill holes on the side of his face.
“What,” he answered, flat and quiet and scratchy and incredibly unhelpful.
“Care to explain what the fuck you were doin’ back there? We looked for you for ages Wilbur, we thought that someone caught you. The boys were near tears and Phil was about to start executin’ people. You can’t just pull shit like that, you scared all of us.”
Any part of Wilbur that had wanted to look at Techno, to try and read his face for any clue of how he might be feeling, died down at that. In fact, Wilbur wondered for a second if trying to make a run for it would be a horrible idea. Unfortunately Techno seemed to read his mind, because after a moment of silence, the car lock sounded.
“Will,” Techno repeated, voice soft and on the edge of something fragile. “Talk to me. Please.”
Wilbur squeezed his eyes shut, willing the pressure behind them to disappear. He had no idea how the fuck he was supposed to even begin to explain what was going on. What he’d been doing while on his walk, what was wrong, why he left the apartment without telling anyone or answering his phone. What he’d been doing at the piers. Part of him insisted that he didn’t know the answer himself. Another part, one that Wilbur usually shoved to the very back of his head, reminded him of the actual answer. How he’d leaned over the rope. How he wouldn’t have minded if he fell. How, for a second, he considered taking the last step and doing a flip into the grey waters like the voices in the back of his head had yelled at him to do.
He let out a long, shaky breath. “I- uh. I was on a walk. Had my phone on silent. Lost track of time. Sorry.”
Techno stayed silent, and when Wilbur turned to look at him, the other man was staring at him blankly, an eyebrow raised. Wilbur stared back, challenging, and after a moment Techno shrugged and turned to drive out of the parking lot.
“Whatever. You’re goin’ to have to explain yourself to the boys and Phil, I’m not goin’ to help you out.” His hands tightened on the steering wheel and he stared at the road like it had murdered his family. “And you’ll be stayin’ at Phil’s for a while.”
Wilbur choked on his breath. “What the fuck? Why?” Something angry and bitter settled on the back of his throat. The apartment, while owned by Phil, was the last thing that still gave him the illusion of having his own life. He wasn’t going to give it up, not even for a mansion. Fuck no.
“Oh, I wonder why that might be. Maybe it has somethin’ to do with the fact that, I don’t know, the moment we leave you alone you run off and we find you three hours later halfway in the fuckin’ ocean? You do realise that we actually care about you, right? When you pull this kind of shit, Will, it’s not affectin’ just you.” Techno sounded pissed. “You’ve got to talk to us. I don’t want Tommy comin’ home from school to find you dead in the bathroom or some shit. Scratch that, I don’t want you dead in the bathroom under any circumstances.”
“I’m not going to kill myself where Toms could find me,” Wilbur protested weakly. Even he was aware that it didn’t sound as good as he hoped it would.
Techno didn’t answer him, and he didn’t unlock the car doors before they were at the mansion’s front doors. Wilbur didn’t say anything, either. But once they stood in the quickly cooling air outside the mansion, Techno with the car keys in his hand and Wilbur leaning on the car door, Techno didn’t mention Wilbur wiping his eyes on his sleeve and instead just handed him a handkerchief.
The sun had set long ago and the still-warm wind carried the sounds of the city and the crickets in the garden into Wilbur’s ears as the two of them finally made their way up the stairs. And as Techno opened the door and Wilbur, now bathed in the golden light of the front hall, was nearly tackled by two teenagers with teary eyes and wide smiles, he pressed his face in Tommy’s hair and smiled to himself. For a moment, he ignored Techno and Phil whispering to each other in the hallway, ignored the drive there and the docks and the cold, grey water, and held his world in his arms like no one could ever hurt them again.