Chapter Text
A person who has lost a loved one is to be feared, for they will never stop grieving over them.
Wilbur Soot was to be feared.
The town of SMP frequently talked about Wilbur Soot. He was a quiet man who lived by himself in a small home at the top of a hill where the sky was always gray and the wind always harsh. Well, he didn’t always live by himself, but if you dared bring that up in front of him you’d feel the cold, bitter stare of a man fueled by the anger of thousands of lost souls.
-
Wilbur had lived in the town of SMP for god knows how long, and he remembered loving it once, how warm it made him feel, and how good the people were to him. Now, SMP has ruined him. Whatever he felt once was long gone, ripped from him like all other things. He would’ve left a long time ago, but something kept him in this godforsaken town, and if it didn’t hurt his heart so much to think about leaving, he would’ve ignored the part of him that was missing and took off before he had the chance to regret it.
Wilbur thought he’d be used to waking up in stark silence after two years of living in it, but waking up to nothing still sent pure terror through his veins. He stared up at the ceiling, watching shadows dance across it. It was early, probably 5 am , he thought. The wind tapped against the window and Wilbur closed his eyes. He desperately hoped his door would creak open and he’d hear footsteps approach his bed and feel someone crawl in with him.
Sometimes he hoped that if he prayed hard enough his reality would shift into something more familiar, more loving. Something closer to blond hair and afternoon walks. If he just reached a little closer, if he just extended his arm even further… he could almost…
Wilbur awoke with a gasp. He was still laying on his back in the middle of his bed. He sat up slowly as he looked around his room. It was still the same annoying shade of yellow that had dulled over the years. The dresser at the wall opposite to him was visibly dusty, but then again so was everything in the house, including Wilbur. Dirty old man , Wilbur thought, letting out the tiniest of smiles.
As he turned to stand his eyes landed on the calendar in front of him. As he realized the date he let out a shaky breath, feeling the hair on his arms stand up. Wilbur sniffled and stood to get ready. He pointedly avoided looking at the calendar.
-
Walking down the rundown sidewalks of SMP Wilbur noticed their beat up state. Had they always looked like this? Come to think of it, most of the buildings were not in the best state. It was during this time of the year that Wilbur looked at things in a horrendously pessimistic manner. The only building that didn’t look shady or rundown was the little bakery at the end of the street. It was a charming building that Wilbur loved. He made his way towards it as he attempted to avoid the curious looks he received as he passed by other citizens.
-
A woman with fading pink hair stood by the window as she watched the tall man in the brown trench coat approach her bakery. She knew today was a special day, the particular occasion she wasn’t exactly sure of, but she knew what he’d order.
She quickly ran behind the counter as the door opened, a chime ringing out.
“Welcome,” the woman greeted warmly.
Wilbur raised his head to smile at her. As he approached the counter, the woman put up a finger and told him to give her a moment. As she did whatever it was that she was doing Wilbur took a minute to look at her. Her pink hair was dull. He remembered a few years ago when she had just dyed it a bright shade of pink. It was the brightest, most vivid color he’d ever seen. It always made him smile when he saw it. Now it was faded and dull. The woman still carried herself the same way she did as when Wilbur first met her, but he knew the look of someone who was carrying too much, and he could see it in the woman in front of him.
He saw it in the way her shoulders hunched over, just barely noticeable, the way her eyes didn’t quite mimic her smile, and the way her hands gripped the counter, knuckles turning white from sheer force. She reminded Wilbur of himself. He said nothing.
“So sorry about that,” she smiled apologetically. “What can I do for you today?”
Wilbur looked at the display below the counter, looking for a particular dessert. He frowned as he failed to find it. “Are you not selling the strawberry chocolate cake anymore?”
“I didn’t put them up for display today, but I do have them in the back! Would you like one?”
“Yes, please. Two.”
The woman nodded and headed to grab his desserts. She had a name, he knew it once, but after that day Wilbur’s immense grief caused him to forget so many things. If he tried he could probably remember it, but remembering caused too much pain, and Wilbur had already suffered enough.
Wilbur quietly wandered around the bakery. There were no other customers besides him, making the bakery quiet and his footsteps the only other noise. He moved towards the wall to his left. The wall was covered in photos of desserts. Wilbur smiled as he looked at them. Some of them were of the woman posing by a dessert, some by herself, and a few of her and a boy. He was tall, much taller than her, and they were very close.
Wilbur was pulled out of his thoughts as he felt a featherlight touch on his arm. He looked down to see her looking at the photos too. She was smiling, although it was more of a sad smile than anything. She looked up at him as she gently pushed the desserts towards him.
“They’re nice and warm,” she smiled at him.
He took them and opened his mouth to thank her when he noticed the letter on one of the cakes: a T with a small heart next to it. Wilbur stared at it as felt his throat get tight. He looked at her and saw her smiling gently at him. She seemed to understand his silence and simply nodded.
“I’ll be in the back if you need me.” She patted his arm and walked away.
Wilbur stared at the spot where she was just standing. His heart was beating so loud he could hear it in his ears. Wilbur swallowed hard and headed towards his— their —table. He set his cake down in front of him and the other beside it.
Wilbur felt his eyes water as he looked at the cake besides his. Taking a deep breath Wilbur let out a small smile, “happy birthday, Toms.”