Work Text:
Stone walls loomed up around him as Wilburs eyes skimmed over what used to be a makeshift home to many people.
His breath caught as a flutter of fabric brought his attention to a torn and dirty, yet still recognizable flag. The flag of the nation he once cherished.
He softly stepped closer to it, clutching a bit of it in a gloved hand.
Gone. All of it.
But it was what he had wanted… right?
He tore the fabric off of its attachment, tossing it to the ground.
The thump of the fabric and wood hitting the stone floor did nothing to ease his conscience.
To be fair, it probably made things worse. He definitely should have gone home then.
Something, however, kept drawing Wilbur further into old memories.
His old L’manberg uniform, hung up on a wall, one of tommys many red and white shirts, muddy and strewn over a barrel, even a hair tie of Nikis. Everything brought back memories.
It wasn’t until he dusted his hand over a crate, his skin collecting a dusting of gunpowder that he broke.
Sobs choking his breath, sliding down along a roughly carved out wall.
It just all hurt so much to look at.
It hurt so much to realize what he hadn’t taken advantage of when he had the chance.
He hadn’t even been a fucking father to his own son.
Memories of the war flashed through his mind.
Every step he took, mistake he made, smile he ruined.
He had messed up his own little brothers chance at a proper childhood.
For what?
For a stupid chance at some sort of power? A chance to rebel? A chance to fight against Dream? He had returned to his help in the end, what did it matter?
Dream had almost killed his little brother.
Scratch that. Dream did kill his little brother. Multiple times. And Wilbur had done nothing to stop him.
Some shit older brother he was.
Tommy could barely stand to look at him now, he always seemed so… scared? Was that the word for it?
From their first re meeting that day in the crater, he kept going back on himself, reconsidering anything he thought might make Wilbur mad.
It hurt him to see the pain flash through his eyes when he mentioned Dream being his savior.
It hurt when he learned the truth.
The truth that Tommy had been exiled, before being emotionally and physically abused by Dream. The truth that he had been locked in a prison with the same man who caused him that torment. The same man who would later kill and revive him as a power display.
He was curled up now, tears rolling down his dirtied cheeks as he stared at the stone ceiling.
He remembered when Tommy had tried to decorate the place.
Everything was messy, Wilbur running around to take it down.
Tommy had eventually trapped himself behind pistons he was in too awkward of a position to move.
Everyone had enjoyed the moment, gathering around and laughing, Tommy even joining in as he realized the hilarity of the situation.
Wilbur had taken a picture to send to Phil, the image now being hung up on the wall across from him.
Why couldn’t he have been more like that when it mattered.
A hiccup escaped him, moving so he was clutching his head, burying into his knees.
What the fuck was wrong with him?
He tried to take a deep breath, it stuttering in and out.
Memories kept flooding his mind, no matter how he tried to keep them out.
what the fuck was wrong with him?
Fundys laughter as he was chased around the ravine, the first time he had heard his son laugh in a long time.
The last time he would hear his son laugh for a long time.
Tubbo and Tommy sat on one of the many barrels together, pointing to maps and old photos, laughing and having a generally good time.
Maybe if he hadn’t pressed the stupid fucking button it would still be that way.
Why did he do it?
He missed the padding of footsteps as someone made their way down the stairs that led into the ravine.
He did not miss the faint call of “Wilbur?”
He froze up, trying to quiet himself immediately.
He pulled a hand over his mouth, using his other sleeve to furiously swipe at his eyes, trying to remove any signs of how he had just been.
A blonde figure, no matter how blurry it might have been to wilburs still tear clouded vision, approached him quickly.
“Wilbur are you ok??”
The figure was now crouched next to him, blue eyes staring at him.
Wilbur opened his mouth for a moment, before realizing he was unable to verbally respond to his brother. He instead settled for burying his head back into his knees.
He didn’t want Tommy to see him like this. He had already been through enough.
It wasn’t until he felt Tommy sink to the ground next to him, and wrap arms around him that he looked back up.
“It’s alright Wil..”
He sucked in a breath, before laying his head on tommys shoulder, exhaling slightly and trying to steady his breathing.
“What happened? You suddenly just ran off”
Wilbur swallowed, before speaking in a shaky voice
“Just- got overwhelmed?”
He didn’t even convince himself, even though that was some of the truth.
“Do you need to talk about it?”
He had to take a moment before responding, Tommy never trying to rush or hurry him, but instead sitting there with an arm around him.
It was almost comforting.
If only Wilbur didn’t have ten million things guilting him.
“I’m-“
He broke off due to a sharp breath he had involuntarily sucked in, moving to wipe away tears that had popped up again.
“I just wanted to say sorry. I never did that. I caused you and others so much pain and being here just reminded me of all of it and it’s just too much-“
He was broken off by the same thing as before, slightly burrowing into his younger brother.
He must have looked pathetic.
A grown ass man, just crying into his younger sibling and sobbing.
“Wilbur it’s ok.. it’s never too late to apologize to anyone. You just have to be able to do it.”
He hadn’t realized, but tommys hand had moved to rub circles into his shoulder.
It was more comforting than Wilbur would like to admit.
“And I’m pretty sure everyone blames Dream a bit more than you.”
Tommy laughed a bit at himself, and Wilbur wondered how he was able to just laugh about the man that had caused his life to be hell.
“How do you do it?”
Wilbur looked up, and to Tommy who looked confused.
“Do what?”
“Just joke about him like that? Do you not blame him? Or hate him even?”
Tommys expression darkened slightly
“No I blame him for everything that’s gone wrong, but there’s no point in dwelling over and avoiding the topic. It’s easier to just make jokes about it”
Wilbur took a deep breath, nerves creeping into him. Why was it so nerve wracking to ask for forgiveness and just fucking apologize?
“Tommy.. I’m so fucking sorry. I don’t know what got into me-“
He was cut off by a sharp laugh from his brother.
“Shut up you dick”
It would have hurt if he hadn’t recognized the playful tone in tommys voice.
“Ok child”
He was grinning now, the mood having completely changed.
“I am NOT a child!”
Tommy pushed him away slightly, a smile now on his own face.
They both froze up as they heard voices at the top of the staircase.
“Tommy, run”
Wilbur had leaned over to whisper to him, although the words held no panic, but instead just pure mischief.
They both scrambled up, Wilbur pulling Tommy into a shadowed crevice.
They both stood there as the voices descended the ravine.
Quackity, Fundy, and foolish.
The three they had been with before Wilbur ran off.
Wilbur pressed a finger to his own lips in the universal “quiet” signal as they both tried to contain laughter.
As the voices passed them, Wilbur and Tommy stared at one another, each willing the other not to giggle and give them away.
A few seconds passed, and they were both bolting towards the staircase, running back towards the surface, where they had initially been supposed to meet.
Tommy was doubled over in laughter, wheezing and gulping for breath.
“Holy fuck I’ve missed this”
Wilbur was also panting slightly, adding in some of his own laughter.
It was maybe ten minutes later when the rest of their group returned, giving slight odd glances to the brothers who were laughing again as they saw the others returning, confused looking.
“Where the fuck did you two go?”
Quackity sounded confused, possibly slightly exasperated
“Whaddya mean? We’ve been here the entire time?”
Tommy stifled more laughter as Wilbur responded, shooting the older an amused glance.
“Whatever. We should get going.”
That was all it took for the bothers to die in laughter again. But they weren’t explaining a damned thing.