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Tommy… had no idea what the actual fuck was going on.
One minute he was sitting there, just watching as Wilbur and Quackity argued about fucking rocks , out of all things they could argue about, and the next they were casually conversating about their day, enjoying the nice meal laid out before them like they hadn’t just been at each other’s throat just seconds before.
All in all, it started out as any normal day.
At least… it did .
During their meal, Quackity had poured Wilbur some fancy wine out of a bottle neither of them could afford in their lifetime, probably, a snake-like grin on his lips that pulled at the scar running down his cheek from his blinded eye, the milky white orb along with his other deep black one staring directly at Wilbur, not moving away for even a moment.
“So, how are you and Tommy?” He asked, pushing the fragile glass towards the brunette with ease, completely ignoring their previous argument they’d literally just stopped not even two seconds prior.
Wilbur gave him an easy going smile, taking the wine with grace as he shrugged. “We’re good. Working out our differences, thinking about starting up a new business soon. You know, the usual.”
Quackity raised an eyebrow but didn’t question him, instead simply nodding. “Of course, of course.”
“How have you been, Big Q?”
“Good as well.” The black-haired man said, but, for some reason, his tone is what sent a shiver down Tommy’s spine and he sat up, paying closer attention to the duck-hybrid as he subtly moved closer to his brother. “Foolish has been hard at work making a new wine for the place—in fact, it’s the one we’re drinking right now! How about you give it a little taste and tell me how it is, yeah? VIP experience, if you will.”
“I don’t think that’s how this works.” Wilbur laughed but indulged him, taking a sip of his drink. “Oh? Is that…?”
“A nice cherry wine.” Quackity told him. “A beautiful bright red, is it not?”
Tommy didn’t like how he said that. In fact, he didn’t like where this was going at all.
“It is.” Wilbur agreed, seemingly unaware of the growing tension building back up between the two, but he must have known. He always knew. “It tastes delicious. Compliments to the chef… or, wine maker, I guess, in this case.”
Quackity grinned, a wide, manic thing that made Tommy’s blood run cold as he forced a shiver down. “Good! I’m glad! I’ll be sure to tell Foolish as soon as possible.”
Wilbur opened his mouth to respond but instead snapped it closed, frowning as he slowly set the glass down.
Tommy, of course, noticed immediately, quickly asking, “you alright, Wil?”
To his credit, Wilbur didn’t look anything other than confused, maybe slightly uncomfortable, but nothing more. “I’m… fine. Just feel a bit off, is all.”
“Sick?” The duck-hybrid suggested, but his tone made Tommy feel like he knew more than he was letting on.
“Perhaps.” Wilbur said, glancing at the wine set before him. “I have been working myself fairly hard as of late.”
“Well, that’s no good.” Quackity chastised him lightly, shaking his head. “If you get sick, how can you expect poor Tommy to take care of you?”
“I’m not a child.” Tommy spat. “I can take care of Wil just fine.”
“Never said you were.” Quackity told him placatingly, raising his hands in mock surrender. “And I’m sure you can, but Wilbur’s a grown ass man. He shouldn’t make someone like you take care of him.”
A child like you, went unsaid but the implication was still there nonetheless.
Tommy bristled. “Adults need someone to take care of them sometimes too, bitch.”
A flash of something too quick to catch passed through the hybrid’s eyes, but he was quick to pull out his sickeningly sweet smile. “Yes, you’re right, my bad. I apologize.”
In all honesty, despite how he was talking perfectly normally, Tommy felt like he was being talked down to. Like he was still being treated like a child, even after all this time.
“Listen here, you—” Tommy didn’t get to finish as Wilbur groaned, cutting him off.
He turned around to see his brother hunched in on himself, groaning and moaning, a pained expression on his face, sending a wave of panic over the blonde.
“Wil? Hey, Wil?” Tommy hastily turned his attention to him, missing the gleeful look the hybrid had before it quickly schooled itself into mild concern. “You alright? What’s wrong?”
“I—” Wilbur groaned again, cutting himself off and only making Tommy panic more.
“Wil—” A puff of smoke and Tommy was not only once more cut off but now coughing from the white cloud he’d been forced to get a face-full of.
Quackity was also coughing and the two of them backed up, knocking over their chairs and watching with bated breath as the smoke dissipated.
Tommy’s eyes widened comically once he noticed that Wilbur wasn’t there.
He looked around frantically, calling out for his brother. “Wil? Wil? Wilbur!”
“... yes?” A quiet voice answered and he froze, turning back around and slowly looked down.
Wilbur was still there, but something was wrong.
No longer was he a hulking freak at 6’5, annoyingly tall for a fucking human , but instead it was like a few feet were ripped off from him, making him a little less than half of Tommy’s height and really, really fucking thin .
Like, he knows he makes fun of Wilbur’s lanky frame from time to time, but he wasn’t like this. Never like this.
Wide, scared brown eyes stared up at him, face paler than it should have been, glancing between Tommy and Quackity with an expression the blonde hated he could identify.
This Wilbur, this child , was trying to figure out how much of a threat they were.
And Tommy hated that.
Sure, he also hated the mask current-Wilbur had on more times than not, a thing sewn on so damn tight even he couldn’t tell the difference between what was real and what was fake, but at least it was somewhat normal. Somewhat familiar .
Fear had never been something he’d seen on Wilbur’s face, at least, not often.
Wilbur had been scared when Eret betrayed them, when fighting a war all of them were much too young for, when facing off against a country that turned its back on him.
But even then, it was never, ever directed towards Tommy .
Tommy was the one used to being scared of Wilbur . At least, at first. Of wondering when the final hammer would drop and he would just throw a punch right then and there, even though Wilbur had never physically harmed him before. Of when Wilbur would finally snap, tear down what remained of his mental wellbeing and tore it to shreds with just his words alone. Of when, once he finally realized how messed up Tommy was, he would finally leave him, too.
And that was fine. That was normal; familiar .
This… This wasn’t either of those.
Wilbur had clearly reverted back to his child days, both in body and mind if his body language and open expressions were anything to go by, and Quackity obviously had something to do with that.
As much as he wanted to turn on the hybrid, scream and demand what the hell was going on, he lowered himself gently, keeping himself a safe distance from the younger boy who watched him with a hawk’s gaze, eyes not leaving his hands even for a second.
It made Tommy’s heart break a little.
“Hey,” he whispered, voice uncharacteristically soft that he heard Quackity let out a confused sound but he chose to ignore him in favor of talking to his now younger brother. “It’s fine. I’m not gonna hurt you.”
To prove his point, Tommy raised his hands, showing he wasn’t holding anything nor was he going to move them any further.
Wilbur didn’t say anything, instead staring at his hands for a few moments longer before finally pulling them away to look him in the eye.
Tommy gave him the kindest smile he could muster, continuing to talk softly as to not scare the already terrified brunette. “I’m Tommy. I… do you know where you are?”
His question seemed to scare the boy, eyes widening even more as he quickly began to panic, glancing between him and Quackity wildly, and Tommy painfully understood what he was thinking.
Despite his tone, Tommy knew this Wilbur was probably thinking that if he answered wrong, he would be punished. Hurt for something he had no control over.
It was something Tommy was unfortunately all too familiar with.
“Hey, it’s okay.” He said, trying his best to calm him down, albeit feeling extremely awkward as this wasn’t exactly his forte. “I’m not gonna hurt you. He isn’t either.” He tacked on, giving Quackity a meaningful look, to which the hybrid ignored in favor of staring at Wilbur like he couldn’t quite believe what was going on. “I… We’re brothers, you know?”
His words seemed to confuse the boy, who frowned slightly before hastily smoothing out his expression as best as he could. “I… but I don’t have a brother…?”
The words stung, even if Tommy knew he didn’t mean anything bad by it. Instead, he smiled gently, shaking his head. “You might not in your time, but, when you get older, you get me! And I’ll have you know, I’m the poggest brother you could ever have.”
Wilbur smiled slightly at his words despite his still present fear, and Tommy considered that a huge win, pressing onward.
“Look, how about I get you home, alright?” Tommy said, slowly reaching out his hand so as to not spook the brunette.
Wilbur looked conflicted but eventually he took his hand, and Tommy grinned. He turned towards Quackity, who had been oddly silent during this entire conversation, a complicated expression on his face.
“We’ll talk later.” He said, trying to keep the bite from his words and turned around, gently leading Wilbur outside.
They exited the restaurant, the gentle afternoon light basking them in its warm glow and Wilbur looked around owlishly, wide-eyed and in awe and Tommy couldn’t help but chuckle quietly at his sheer amazement of what he was seeing.
“Where is this?” He asked quietly, which was off putting to the blonde, as Wilbur wasn’t known for being quiet, but he chose not to comment on it.
“Las Nevadas.” He said. “Quackity, the man back there, owns it. Pretty, innit?”
Wilbur nodded mutely, gripping the teen’s hand a bit tighter. “I… I don’t remember a ‘Las Nevadas’ around home…”
Tommy swallowed thickly. “Well, that’s because you’re in the future.”
Wilbur paused, looking up at him, pure confusion on his face. “I… What?”
“You’re in the future.” Tommy felt a bit bad for springing this on him when he was clearly still going through some shit, but he figured trying to hide it from him would be a pointless, wasteful, endeavor regardless. “Remember what I said back in the restaurant? How I’m your brother?”
Wilbur nodded.
“I wasn’t lying. We might not be brothers by blood, but that doesn’t make us any less brothers regardless.” Tommy told him.
“Oh.” Was all that the brunette said, but Tommy couldn’t exactly blame him. This was quite a bit to take in, after all.
It was right then Tommy remembered that this current Wilbur had no place to go.
He obviously wouldn’t remember where Philza’s house was, and even then, Tommy doubted the avian wanted to be seeing him any time soon.
But he didn’t really want Wilbur to be stuck with someone he saw as a stranger, even though the thought stung more than he thought it would.
“I… I can take you back to Philza’s place, if you want?” Tommy suggested, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “I’m sure you don’t remember the way, and, if he hasn’t moved since last time, I do so… y’know.”
Wilbur flinched, and Tommy paused, glancing down at the younger boy, frowning in confusion.
To his credit, the child was doing his utmost best not to show his apprehension on his face, but due to his years of inexperience there was only so much he could do… Which wasn’t much, if Tommy was to be completely honest.
He didn’t know how to feel, being able to fully see and understand how his brother was feeling thanks to his expressions. It felt weird, and a bit unnatural, but that didn’t stop him from being worried all the same.
“Did I say something wrong?” He asked.
Wilbur quickly shook his head. “N-No, sir.” That made Tommy frown, but he wasn’t able to comment on it as Wilbur continued. “I just… Can… Can you message him first? I don’t want him to think I was late purposefully…”
Tommy wanted to ask why him being late mattered, but the pinched look on his face made him swallow those words. Instead, he decided to just agree, to try and ease the younger boy’s tension even if just by a little, but what he said instead made him want to slap himself in the face:
“You could come home with me, if you want?” He suggested, the words out before he could even think about them.
Immediately afterwards he cringed, but he knew that, deep down in his subconscious, this is what he wanted.
Tommy and Wilbur had grown… closer since the older man’s revival.
At first, Tommy had wondered when the other shoe would drop. When Wilbur would show his true self.
Things had been rocky at the start, when Wilbur was first revived and told Tommy he was a changed man, that he wasn’t who he was when he died.
Obviously, Tommy didn’t believe him at first. How could he?
Especially when the last time he heard from him, in that void he’d called death, Wilbur still sounded… strange .
It took a while for his own walls to come down, for him to slowly build trust back up with the man he still called his brother even after all this time, and in turn, Wilbur slowly began allowing himself more moments of relaxation, of willed vulnerability.
Wilbur slowly stopped using that damned mask of his around Tommy, or, well, at least at Tommy, and Tommy slowly began to understand just how true Wilbur’s words rang, that he was different from the last time he saw him.
While their relationship still wasn’t anywhere near as good as it had been during the beginning of the Essempi, it hadn’t been as estranged as it was near the end, either.
Sure, it was still awkward and a bit hard to handle from time to time, but Tommy was honestly glad that Wilbur seemed to be genuinely trying to get better.
He still had his moments, still had his odd comment here and there, and Tommy wasn’t dumb—he could tell recklessness when he saw it, even if Wilbur honestly didn’t seem like he was actively trying to die.
And because of that, Tommy was drinking in every little activity they did together, soaked in the warmth of his brother’s hand when it landed on his shoulder, when his arm brushed against his.
Turns out being dead for thirteen plus years made you a bit touch-starved. Who knew?
Tommy would never admit it out loud, but he was probably just as much, if not perhaps more , starved for contact than Wilbur was.
And he reveled in their closeness. In how Wilbur was closest with him and only him.
Sure, he spoke with others; hell, he even lived with his dad until he got back on his feet, but Wilbur openly admitted that he only told Tommy the more important things.
Only told Tommy his darkest thoughts, only showed him his most vulnerable side, and Tommy knew he wasn’t lying.
He’d seen the brunette around others compared to him. He could easily make the comparisons.
The slightly more forced look of his smiles, the way he would subtly flinch when someone other than him got just a tad too close for comfort…
Tommy obviously would rather ingest actual lava than ever admit it out loud, but he was happy Wilbur trusted him so much.
Made him feel validated. Wanted .
So it hurt when Wilbur, his Wilbur, the man he admired probably more than anyone else, looked so… hurt , so vulnerable .
Don’t get him wrong, he was usually happy when Wilbur showed his more sensitive side, but that was because he let him—let himself let down his walls to allow Tommy in.
Not like this. Never like this.
He didn’t like that this Wilbur was too young to hide his expressions properly, that he wasn’t as well versed in bringing up the mask he had long since perfected, even if subconsciously, and Tommy hated it.
He didn’t hate Wilbur, no. He hated whatever happened that made Wilbur like that.
Wilbur looked up at him, examining him, trying to find the catch in his words. Tommy felt a pang in his chest but he tried to keep his expression as open and honest as possible, to show his brother he could be trustworthy.
After a few moments, Wilbur spoke up once more. “Are you sure…?”
Tommy nodded almost too eagerly. “Yep! I can even text Phil about it, if you want?”
Wilbur hesitated for a few moments before nodding and Tommy pulled out his communicator, privately messaging the old man before pocketing it once more.
TommyInnit: Wil’s staying over at my place for a few days.
Philza: Why? What’s wrong? What happened?
TommyInnit: Don’t worry about it old man.
He ignored the flurry of pings that followed, muting his device and leading Wilbur back to his dirt shack.
Wilbur looked around in unconcealed awe, star struck by every little thing he saw, and Tommy definitely did not coo at how cute it was.
Quickly hurrying the younger boy inside as the sun began to set, Tommy led him to his bedroom, Wilbur glancing around curiously while pitifully trying to make it look like he wasn’t at the same time.
Tommy obviously could tell, but he generously decided not to point it out.
Instead, he said, “whelp, here we are. Home sweet home, am I right?”
Wilbur nodded absentmindedly, looking down at the bed in front of him. “... where am I gonna sleep?”
Tommy frowned in confusion, glancing down at him. “What do you mean?”
“Well,” Wilbur gestured towards the only bed in the room. “There’s only one bed, so… Do I sleep on the floor?”
“What?”
“I wouldn’t mind!” Wilbur quickly assured him, though his words were anything but ‘assuring’. “I’m used to it! I was just… curious…” His voice trailed off at the end, but Tommy caught it all the same.
What the actual fuck? “What do you mean ‘used to it’?”
Wilbur seemed to understand he’d said something wrong, quick to try and backtrack. “I-I mean, it’s fine! I’ve slept in worse places before! I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”
“Wilbur. Wil ,” he said, cutting the boy off from his rambling, wide, teary brown eyes looking up at him as he snapped his mouth shut. Tommy ignored the hurt in his heart at the look being directed towards him , and instead carried on. “You’re not in trouble, I just… I was just worried.”
Wilbur slowly frowned, as if he couldn’t understand what Tommy meant. “I… I’m sorry?”
Tommy shook his head. “Don’t be sorry. I thought you could take the bed and I’ll make another one. Shouldn’t be too hard, I’m sure I’ve got the supplies around here somewhere.”
“Oh.” Wilbur replied lamely, a light blush dusting his cheeks.
Tommy gave him a small smile. “Just sleep, alright?”
Wilbur nodded slowly and Tommy patted him on the head instinctually, not even thinking about it, and froze for a moment.
The boy froze as well, and they just stood there awkwardly, unsure of what to do.
After a few moments of selfishly drinking in the warmth of the younger boy’s head on his palm, he slowly peeled himself away, clearing his throat awkwardly as a flush rushed to his cheeks.
“S-Sorry. I’ll go make that bed now.” Tommy stuttered, turning around.
Wilbur didn’t say anything, and Tommy didn’t expect him to.
Besides, he wasn’t sure he wouldn’t be able to keep his mouth shut if he stayed there without clearing his head.
Wilbur had followed his hand when he pulled back.
Tommy didn’t know what to make of that.
-
Tommy had called Quackity the very next day, near the crack of dawn outside his shack while Wilbur was still asleep, impatiently tapping his foot as he waited for the other to answer.
He knew the hybrid was awake, he practically never seemed to sleep in the first place.
After a painfully long time, his call was answered and before the duck-hybrid could even get a word out Tommy began snapping at him, demanding answers.
“What the fuck , man?” He hissed, keeping his voice low so as to not wake his ‘guest’. “What the fuck was that?”
“What’re you talkin’ about?” Quackity slurred, his voice thick with sleep, but Tommy didn’t bother to worry about that. He had other, bigger things to worry about.
“You know what I’m talking about!” Tommy whisper-yelled. “What the fuck did you give Wilbur?”
A few moments of silence, and then: “Oh. That.”
“Yeah, that .”
“It’s…” Quackity paused, mulling his words over. “I just asked Foolish for a simple potion that could turn anyone who drank it back to their childhood self. Thought it’d be a fun little prank.”
“Well, clearly , you didn’t fuckin’ think it through.” Tommy bit out.
“Well, I didn’t expect him to be so… you know !” Quackity shot back. “How was I supposed to know he had issues, even as a child?”
“Oh, maybe, I dunno, fucking think about how he fuckin’ died in the first place?” Tommy seethed, gripping his communicator so tightly in his hand he swore he heard it creak. “We both fucking know how that happened, and no mentally stable person would fuckin’ ask to be killed.”
He heard the other wince, his words stinging a painful truth.
Ghostbur never kept his death a secret, and Wilbur didn’t seem to mind too much when someone asked, so it was definitely a well known fact for anyone who ever bothered to listen.
And, despite how close the two had been prior to shit going down, Tommy didn’t know jack nor shit about Wil’s past, and Wilbur never seemed particularly keen on telling anyone so he never asked.
But even he knew there was something more than what was on the surface when they both watched as Philza, the brunette’s own dad , killed his fucking son.
Regardless of what Wilbur had said, Phil held all the power in that moment. He could have easily said no, could have easily apprehended the man, gotten him some help.
It didn’t take a genius to know that both father and son weren’t quite right in the head after that moment.
“How long?” Tommy asked instead, choosing not to continue tearing at the other.
“How long what?”
Tommy rolled his eyes. “How long until it wears off, dumbass.”
Quackity huffed but chose not to comment on it. “I asked Foolish, and he said about a week, max.”
A sense of dread settled in Tommy’s stomach. “Oh, cool, just gotta deal with a potentially traumatized child for an entire week. Cool, okay, I can totally do that.”
“Tommy, you’re a traumatized child—”
“And I’ve got to go now! Bye, bitch!” Tommy cut him off, hanging up on him abruptly.
He looked up at the sky, watching as the sun slowly pulled up over the horizon, running a hand down his face.
Fuck, okay, he told himself, taking in a deep breath. Just a week. Just a week, and this will all be done and over with. I can handle that. I mean, how hard could it possibly be?
And that, my friends, is exactly why you shouldn’t say those kinds of phrases—you’re just asking to jinx yourself.
-
Tommy took back everything he said.
He couldn’t do this.
Wilbur was too quiet, too obedient , always acting like he expected Tommy to just straight up whack him if he even so much as fucking breathed wrong.
And Tommy was really trying his best to show he wasn’t a threat, dammit.
From using soft words and tones to not moving too fast and always letting his hands be seen to show he wasn’t holding anything potentially dangerous or threatening, Tommy felt like he was at the ends of his rope.
I mean, sure, after the first two days he’d made substantial progress, Wilbur talking a bit more than usual and not flinching as much as before, but still.
Now, to be fair, he wasn’t exactly expecting child Wilbur to open up to him immediately. That would be dumb as fuck.
No, he understood these things took time and that, whatever the fuck happened to him in his childhood, he was clearly going through some shit.
That wasn’t the problem.
What was the problem was that Tommy just had no idea what the fuck he was doing.
Tommy never had a kid, and while he liked them fine and well enough, he never spent too much time around them to learn how to handle or care for them.
Michael didn’t count, mainly because, even though he liked him, Tommy hadn't spent that long around the little dude and besides—he was Ranboo and Tubbo’s kid.
Speaking of which…
His door was kicked open on the third day, Tommy having convinced Wilbur to play a game of tic-tac-bone with him, startling not only him but Wilbur as well, the young boy jumping high in the air and whipping around, staring at the intruders with wide eyes.
Tommy quickly pushed himself in front of his brother, summoning his sword from his inventory as he glared at who dared decide to break into his house, despite the logical part of his brain telling him that only one person was brave enough, and cared enough, to ever bother doing something like that.
It was easily washed away by his emotions, but the feeling to protect — protect, protect, protect. Protect his brother.
Blue eyes met brown and he immediately relaxed upon realizing who it was, though he didn’t move, still protecting Wilbur behind him, only lowering his sword just a tad, his posture still ready to attack at a moment’s notice.
“Prime, Tubbo.” He sighed, running a hand down his face. “Fuckin’ warn a guy before you do shit like that.”
“S-Sorry, big man.” Tubbo stuttered, clearly not having expected that reaction. “I was just… You haven’t been answering your comms for the past couple of days, and I was worried, you know?”
Tommy swore under his breath, having forgotten about that entirely.
During his time with Wilbur, he had turned off his communicator so as to not spook the boy with the constant pings he’d been getting recently. Not only that, he didn’t want to accidentally out himself by spilling the fact he was currently with a kid-aged Wilbur Soot, the current “crazy revived ex president”.
But, to no one’s surprise, it obviously didn’t last long and Tommy was mentally kicking himself for not at least letting Tubbo know that he was going to be “busy” for a couple of days.
Because now here they were, Tubbo having kicked down his fucking door with Ranboo peering inside awkwardly from behind, clearly not sure when he should speak up despite Tommy quite clearly able to see him, Tommy trying to hide a child behind his back who was gripping his shirt tightly, trembling slightly.
Tommy tried not to feel happy about that.
“Sorry about that.” He said, surprising his friends. “I just… Had something going on.”
Tubbo raised an eyebrow, folding his arms across his chest. “ Right … and that ‘something’ couldn’t be the child you’re quite clearly hiding behind your back, right?”
Wilbur flinched and Tommy swallowed back a growl, knowing his friend probably didn’t mean any harm by that sentence but, well… He probably could have phrased it better.
“Well, yeah.” Tommy said instead, looking behind him and saying as gently as possible. “Hey, it’s alright, they’re my friends. They won’t hurt you.”
He could see from the corner of his eye that both Ranboo and Tubbo were surprised at how gentle he sounded, but he currently couldn’t give a single fuck about that right now.
What he was more worried about was calming his brother, who still looked scared, and he couldn’t help but give the other brunette a quick glare.
“I’m sorry about them, they didn’t mean to scare you.” Tommy told him, awkwardly patting him on the arm from where he stood, still facing his friends while hiding Wilbur behind him. “ Right , Tubbo?”
Tubbo swallowed thickly, nodding shakily. “I—right. I’m sorry.” He lowered his voice into the tone he used when talking with his own son. “I didn’t mean to scare you, big guy. Can… can you come out?”
Tommy glanced behind him to see Wilbur looking up at him, as if asking if it was fine. If it was safe.
The blonde felt a rush of happiness at how openly Wilbur was trusting him with this, even if he was the only one able to see it at the moment. “It’s fine. They won’t hurt you. I’ll make sure of it.”
That seemed to placate the brunette who, while still a bit scared and uncertain, slowly walked out from behind him, looking up at the other two teens.
Tubbo gasped quietly while Ranboo’s eyes widened and Wilbur quickly hid behind Tommy again at the noise, and Tommy glared at them, clearly telling them to not ask .
Ranboo seemed to get the message, being the first of the two to break out of his shock. Instead, he stepped forward, his tall stature frightening the boy as Wilbur buried himself into Tommy’s side. “Shh, it’s alright. We won’t hurt you.”
Wilbur whimpered quietly, clearly not believing him, and Tommy was this close to just throwing them out right then and there and burying Wil in a bundle of blankets, protecting him from the outside world.
Ranboo faltered for a moment, clearly not expecting that reaction, but he pressed forward, lowering himself to reach eye-level with the boy. “You remind me of my own son, do you know that?”
Wilbur paused, taking a peek at the enderman-hybrid. “... really?” He asked quietly.
Ranboo smiled, tail flicking slightly in happiness that he was able to relax the boy even if just a little. “Yeah. His name’s Michael. He just turned four this year, actually.”
Wilbur relaxed even more, seeming to slowly deem the hybrid as friendly, though he still stuck to Tommy’s side.
“What’s your name, big man?” Tubbo asked, lowering himself as well.
Wilbur glanced at him before looking up at Tommy. Tommy nodded and Wilbur replied, “Wilbur.”
Tubbo grinned. “That’s a pog name, Wilbur.”
Wilbur simply smiled, small and uncertain, but there and Ranboo and Tubbo smiled back, Tommy feeling a bit left out.
So, he cleared his throat, getting their attention once again. “So. What’re you here for?”
“Well.” Tubbo began, exchanging glances with his platonic husband… Man, Tommy doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to that thought. “We were worried about you, obviously, but now that you have a kid —”
Tommy sputtered. “He’s not my kid , man!”
“—we’ll teach you how to properly care for him!” Tubbo continued, ignoring his friend’s sputtering and turning to Wilbur. “Is that alright with you?”
Wilbur eyed him for a moment before nodding slightly.
Tubbo beamed. “Great!”
And with that, Tommy’s fate was sealed.
-
Well, to be fair, Tubbo and Ranboo were helping. Tremendously .
Having a kid of your own helps with these sorts of things, huh?
They managed to convince Tommy to let the poor boy out at least every once in a while, Tommy having previously been a tad too paranoid to do so lest someone find out and thus leak this very private information to the rest of the server.
Not only that, but they also helped relax Wilbur into trusting them all a bit more, though Tommy still felt a bit jealous every time Wilbur would smile or laugh their way.
He was still Wilbur’s favorite, though, so he couldn’t be too upset.
It was on the afternoon of their fifth day that things seemed to take a drastic turn, however.
They were playing twenty questions, a game Wilbur had previously been hesitant to play before but now felt safe enough to do so.
Tubbo had asked a seemingly innocent enough question, but Wilbur’s response was more than worrying enough.
“Do you ever want to go visit Phil?” He’d asked, not meaning anything deeper behind it, but Wilbur flinched and the three of them paused, looking at him.
Wilbur seemed to wilt under their intense gazes, all of them quickly looking away so as to not overwhelm him. They still kept him in the corner of their vision, however.
“I…” Wilbur began hesitantly, fiddling with the sleeve of Tommy’s sweater he was currently wearing. “Not really…?”
The three of them exchanged a glance.
Tubbo decided to prod further, though he kept his tone soft. “Do you mind if I ask why?”
Wilbur bit his lower lip, seeming to debate whether or not he should answer. “... you already asked your question…”
“I did.” Tubbo agreed. “Sorry, you can just ignore—”
“But.” Wilbur continued, cutting him off. “Oh, sorry.”
Tubbo shook his head. “It’s fine. What were you saying?”
“I, um…” Wilbur shifted slightly. “I just… I don’t think he’d mind?”
They all froze.
“What do you mean?” Ranboo asked.
“It’s just, um,” Wilbur began to stutter slightly. “I just, uh, he tends to, uh, leave me on my own quite a bit, so it’s, um, it’s…” He trailed off, unsure of how to continue that.
They all frowned, not liking where this was going.
“Does he leave you alone… often?” Ranboo asked gently.
Wilbur mulled over his question before nodding faintly. “Y-Yeah… B-But it’s fine! I’m a big boy! I can take care of myself!”
Tubbo frowned. “Wil… How old are you?”
Silence.
And then…
“... Eleven…” Wilbur whispered, almost too quietly for them all to hear but his words were like a punch to the gut regardless.
“... and how old were you when he started?” Tommy asked, taking the bullet with the hardest question he knew his friends wouldn’t want to ask.
“... five…” His voice was as quiet as a mouse, but with it being the only sound available it fell like a boulder, clearly heard by all three of them.
“...” Tommy looked between his friends who both looked horrified and pissed . Glad to know he wasn’t the only one feeling that way.
“What the fuck?” Tubbo whispered to himself, wincing when he noticed Wilbur flinched. “No, no, you’re fine! I was just… surprised.”
Wilbur nodded jerkily. “I-It’s fine.”
“No, it’s not.” Ranboo gritted out, despite the strain in his voice it still sounded endlessly gentle. “Was… Is Phil always like that?”
Wilbur blinked owlishly. “I… What do you mean?”
“Has he done anything else?” Tubbo decided to ask instead.
Wilbur frowned slightly. “I, um… I-I don’t think I should tell you.”
“It’s fine.” Tommy insisted, gently rubbing his back. “We won’t tell anyone. Promise.”
Wilbur glanced at the other two, who nodded feverishly, and decided he could trust them well enough to reply. “I… Okay. But promise you won’t tell anyone , okay?”
“Promise.” They all said.
“Okay… okay…” Wilbur clenched his fists, taking in a deep breath. “It’s just, um… Phil— Dad ,” he quickly corrected himself, missing the pained look of the other three in the room as he stared at the floor with rapt attention. “He has always, um, liked to go out and explore. And that’s fine! I totally get it! It’s just, um… I kind of wish he took me too? He’s always gone for so long, and I still don’t really know how to take care of the garden… Not that I’m not trying! I know how to grow potatoes thanks to Techno!” He said that almost proudly, as if he should have to know how to take care of himself. “Well, not Techno himself but, uh, the books he leaves behind… It took a while to get right, but that’s fine! I got it eventually!”
Ranboo looked like he’d just bit into a lemon and Tubbo’s expression had turned carefully blank. Tommy, on the other hand, was sure there was murder in his eyes. The thought was certainly there.
“How long is he usually gone?” Tubbo asks, voice monotonous in a way that sent shivers down Tommy’s spine.
“Uh…” Wilbur paused, thinking about it. “Um, if I’m lucky, then maybe a few weeks? It usually takes a couple of months, though…”
The room’s temperature only seemed to drop further.
“And what’s the longest he’s been gone?” Ranboo asked.
Silence.
“... a year…”
Tommy had to physically restrain himself to going out and chopping that dick’s head clean off his shoulders. By the look of it, Ranboo and Tubbo were doing the exact same.
“Did—Does Techno know?” Tommy asked.
Wilbur nodded. “I-I mean, he’s been around for as long as I can remember, so I’m pretty sure he does…”
Well, from how close he and Phil are, Tommy would honestly be surprised if he didn’t know.
Tommy was so, so tempted to go out and start stabbing bitches, consequences be damned, but, when he glanced over and saw Wilbur trembling, nails digging into his thighs as his eyes glistened with unshed tears, he decided against it.
Instead, he scooped the preteen into his arms, hushing him gently. “Shh, shh, it’s fine. It’s alright. It’ll be okay.”
Wilbur didn’t say anything, sniffling quietly as he held back his sobs, which broke Tommy’s heart.
“You can cry, you know.” Tommy told him, letting Tubbo and Ranboo join their cuddle pile.
Wilbur just shook his head. “D-Dad doesn’t like it when I’m too loud…”
Another reason to fucking end a bitch’s life. Who the fuck was he to tell Wilbur to be fucking quiet ?
“Well, we don’t mind.” Tubbo told him, patting him on the head.
Wilbur’s breath hitched.
“You can cry.” Ranboo told him, and Wilbur only seemed to tremble more because he understood that his tears, the water that came from them, could potentially harm him, yet he didn’t tell him he couldn’t. Instead, he said he could .
Tommy knew how much that meant to the boy.
Wilbur stayed silent for a few moments before letting himself cry, quiet at first before slowly unraveling and bawling loudly, burying his face in the crook of Tommy’s neck.
They all shushed him, gently comforting him, all of them falling asleep just like that, in each other’s arms.
-
In all honesty, Tommy probably shouldn’t have opened the door.
Ranboo and Tubbo were already here, having gotten back after checking in on their own son who they now felt immensely bad for leaving behind for long periods of time, despite the fact they always return home every single day.
Wilbur also never left Tommy’s side, and tomorrow was the big day.
The day the potion would finally wear off and everything would return to normal.
Or, well, as normal as things could be, honestly.
So what made Tommy get up and answer the door when everyone he cared for was already there was beyond him, and he regretted it instantly as soon as he saw who it was.
It was none other than mister Philza Craft himself, standing at his front door in all his glory.
Tommy had to refrain from stabbing the prick in his gut right then and there.
“Hello.” He said instead, crossing his arms in front of his chest as he raised an eyebrow. “What do you want?”
He didn’t have the energy to even bother and try to be polite, though Phil didn’t seem to really care all that much.
“Just here to check on my son.” Phil told him lightly. “How’re things goin’?”
What. Was that it? Just a simple “how do you do”?
“Are you serious?” Tommy asked incredulously.
Phil tilted his head to the side. “What do you mean?”
Tommy felt himself explode, raising his voice as he shouted at him, unable to keep his emotions in check as he jabbed a finger at the man’s chest. “You fuckin’—You think you can just come over here and act like nothing’s fuckin’ wrong? What happened these past couple of days that you couldn’t come sooner? Huh?”
His accusations didn’t seem to phase the man at all, who instead was as cool and collected as ever as he shrugged. “I’ve been busy.”
Tommy snorted. “Oh, I’m sure. Always too busy for your own fuckin’ son.”
Phil frowned. “Don’t use that tone with me—”
“And why the fuck not? You’re not my fucking dad.” Tommy snapped at him. “Actually, just fuck off. No one wants you here. We’re fine , thanks for fucking asking.”
He was about to slam the door in the man’s face when Tubbo and Ranboo appeared, looking over at Phil who seemed surprised to see them.
“Oh! Hello, Ranboo. Tubbo.” He added the brunette’s name almost as an afterthought before turning his attention back to Ranboo, smiling at him gently. “Hi, mate. So this is where you’ve been.”
Ranboo eyed him passively before giving him a small, strained smile. “Yep.”
Tubbo didn’t seem upset that Phil didn’t acknowledge him, instead examining him from head to toe.
That seemed to catch the blonde’s attention, glancing over at the shorter teen with a raised eyebrow.
Tubbo gave him the politest, fakest smile Tommy had ever seen. “Hello, Phil.”
“Hello, Tubbo.” Phil replied.
“It’s a nice day, isn’t it?” The brunette asked seemingly randomly.
Phil raised an eyebrow. “I suppose it is.”
“These past couple have been great recently.” Tubbo continued. “Wilbur’s been great company.”
Phil tilted his head but didn’t respond.
That only made Tommy angrier.
Tubbo didn’t let it get to him, even though he could see the flash of anger in his eyes. “He’s a nice guy, you know. Fun to talk with, to be around.”
“I suppose so.” Phil said.
“I mean, he went a bit crazy a little while ago, but that’s fine. Everyone has their ups and down.” Tubbo said, as if he just had a grumpy day instead of blowing up an entire fucking country, but whatever. The specifics weren’t important at the moment, he supposed. “Can’t really say I blame him too much anymore. Anyone would have gone a bit loco if the people they thought loved them turned their backs on them.”
Phil raised an eyebrow but didn’t comment.
“It sucks, you know? When the people you love turn on them.” Tubbo saidly slowly, shiftling slightly. “Probably one of the worst feelings in the world.”
“Where are you going with this?” Phil asked, cutting him off.
“Well, let me ask you something, Phil .” Tubbo’s voice dropped from the sickeningly sweet tone to an icy frost, smile dropping as he stared up at the man with an eerily blank expression. “Do you love Wilbur?”
Phil blinked in surprise. “Of course I do. What kind of question?”
Tubbo smiled at him, but there was nothing kind about it. “Let me ask you again, Phil. Do. You. Love. Wilbur ?”
Phil frowned, but this time he spent a moment or so longer to answer. “Of course I do. He’s my son, why would I not love him?”
“Well, pardon me for not believing you.” Tubbo said sarcastically, rolling his eyes. “I don’t remember the section in the parent handbook that leaving your literal, actual child alone for months on end is a sign of love but I might have just missed that page.”
“What are you talking about—”
Phil was cut off by a sucker punch to the face, falling to the ground as Ranboo and Tommy stared at Tubbo in a mixture of awe and fear.
Tubbo smiled down at the man who looked up at him in shock, though it was all wrong and twisted—showing too much tooth and a bit too manic. “Let me tell you something right now, Philza . Come anywhere near Wil again, and I might just have to finish the fucking job with those wings of yours. And maybe blow up your stupid little home as well, who knows.”
His smile turned sweet as he spoke, a complete one-eighty from before, and Tommy was endlessly glad the brunette was on his side.
Phil turned to Ranboo, as if the hybrid would help him out here, but Ranboo just gave the man a blank look.
“Come near Wilbur again, and I’ll make sure you live a life worse than death.” Ranboo said simply.
Phil was completely flabbergasted at this turn of events, having no idea what was going on but Tommy couldn’t care less.
“See you never, bitch!” Tommy said cheerily, slamming the door in his face and they all walked back to Wilbur, who was looking between the three of them in confusion.
“Who was that?” He asked, having been too far away to hear anything, especially with the earmuffs Ranboo had given him.
How did he know they were Ranboo’s? Well, the black-and-white theme helped a bit.
Tommy just smiled at him as Wilbur pulled the earmuffs off, handing them back to the hybrid who took them gently. “No one important. C’mon, let’s continue our game!”
Wilbur still looked curious but didn’t press it and the four of them continued their day as per usual.
Tommy was certain Phil would be back, would probably send his bitch dog Techno on them, but, for now, he could simply ignore that, instead indulging himself with his favorite people right here and now.
And he’ll have to have a long, long talk with Wilbur once he returns to normal.
But, for now, he’ll allow himself to pretend that everything was alright.