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Wilbur sat down on the edge of the pier, looking over the L’Manberg ruins, his legs dangling off the pier. They were so long they nearly dipped into the water. Vines dripped down the walls of the ruins, along with waterfalls. Sighing, he put out his cigarette and stared out at the ruins. A vast landscape of dark grey water stared back at him. The moon’s reflection in the water rippled as a gust of wind blew past. To any onlooker, the scene would look serene. But in reality, Wilbur’s head was a turmoil of negative thoughts.
He never should have started L’Manberg, never should have dragged Tommy into his mess of issues, never should have kept it going with Pogtopia, and never should have forced Phil to kill his son. He didn’t regret blowing up L’Manberg however. He thought it fair that his pride and joy, his creation, was ended by none other than himself. Sort of a whole circle-of-life type deal, something Wilbur thought to be appropriate. He briefly contemplated jumping off the pier. The thought seemed to come out of nowhere. (Did it really though? He had died once already, was it so much of a stretch to want to do it again?) It entertained his head for only a moment, but it scared him nonetheless. Was he so consumed with guilt that he wanted to end it? He wasn’t sure.
One thing he was sure about was that he never wanted to go back to limbo. While it was supposed to be limbo, that place was his own personal hell. Schlatt was never good at cards, always too drunk to properly play, and Mexican Dream, well, he kinda did his own thing. But mostly, Wilbur hated that he was there, wasting away, while Tommy and Tubbo and Phil and Techno kept living without him, without knowing how guilty he felt about it all. This was all his fault, even the second blowing up of L’Manberg was indirectly caused by him and what he started.
And this thought brought him back to his original thought of jumping off. How did he end up back there again? He wasn’t sure, but this time, he entertained the thought for much longer. Maybe he wouldn’t end up in limbo this time. It was worth a try, wasn’t it?
He was startled out of his negative spiral by Phil, coming to sit next to him. He put a fatherly hand on Wilbur’s leg, a reassurance of sorts. The two of them sat and stared out solemnly into the crater together.
Phil was the first to break the silence. “Son, you know I forgive you, right?”
“Don’t call me that… please… I don’t deserve it.”
Phil grimaced. Had he failed as a father so much that Wilbur didn’t think he deserved to be his son? If anything it was him that didn’t deserve Wilbur. He hadn’t been there for him, his own son, after he came back. “Wil… you’ll always be my son. Blowing up a nation doesn’t change that. Not even dying can change that,” he said with a melancholy smile.
With that, Wilbur broke down. Tears made their way down his cheeks in trails, reminiscent of the waterfalls in the L’Manberg ruins.
“Phil I… I never meant for it to turn out like this, I never meant for any of this to happen! I just wanted the best for Tommy, and Fundy, and Niki, and sure, myself too. I didn’t want this to happen, I didn’t want this…” his voice cracked on the last line as more tears leaked out.
“Hey, it’s okay. I know, son, I know.”
“But it’s not okay Phil! Did you know that Tommy, my Tommy, my brother , won’t even look me in the eyes anymore? And Techno, I haven’t even seen him since I came back. And you, you say you forgive me but I see that look in your eyes! You think I’m dangerous, you think I’ll hurt more people like I inevitably do.”
“Wil I don’t-”
“No! Don’t deny it, I see it. I see how no one wants to get close to me except Ranboo, who wasn’t there for what I did. They’re all scared, scared of history repeating itself. And they should be! I’m scared of myself, Phil. I don’t know what I’m capable of, and that scares me. Half the thoughts I think aren’t me, Phil. I think… I think I need help.” The last words were whispered, almost inaudible.
Now Phil was the one crying. Scratch that, they both were. Phil was proud of Wilbur for admitting he needed help, but scared for his son. He didn’t want to lose him again. It was only then that Phil noticed, how long had it been since Wil had called him dad? After he came back, even before when he was begging for Phil to kill him, he had called him Phil. Never dad.
With this newfound sadness, Phil moved closer to Wilbur, letting him know he was always there for him. Wilbur stiffened, not used to physical contact, then relaxed and laid his head on Philza’s shoulder. There they sat, father and son, watching the sunrise over what once was L’Manberg.