Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Wilbur had really fucked up this time. 

They weren’t even supposed to be on Terra, as it was a designated No-Landing-Zone, but after a run-in with a stray asteroid that their radar had somehow failed to miss, the crew of the SBI really had no choice unless they wanted the ship’s engine to explode. Philza had managed to limp the ship through the solar system, feathers fluffed up in alarm the entire short journey. The captain took care to ensure that they stayed in the shadow of the planet as they approached, despite the ship’s cloaking abilities. They couldn’t risk being spotted by the planet’s dominant inhabitants; the amount of rules they had broken just to be in the same region as Terra would have been enough to get them all into major trouble as is. If they were seen, they might as well give up their flying permits right then and there.

Which is where the trouble comes in.

After landing in a wooded area outside a human settlement, Phil had immediately jumped out of his seat and took off down toward the engine room, warbling something to Wil and Techno about staying out of trouble before the last feathers of his wings whisked around a corner and the clack of his frantic talons faded into the belly of the ship. 

Techno had just snorted, a flick of his ear the only thing telling Wilbur that he was at all concerned about their situation. The piglin had remained silent the entire ride, quietly monitoring the ship’s status with furrowed brows as Phil chattered worriedly about how much damage the asteroid had done. 

Now, he leaned back in his seat and sighed. “I better go and help him. He’s gonna singe his feathers again, and I don’t wanna hear him sulk about it for the next week”.

Wilbur cracked a smile at this. “You’d think someone who’s had wings their entire life would remember to keep them out of engine fires.”

Techno huffed a laugh at his statement, unbuckling himself from his seat at last and striding toward the bridge door. He paused in the doorway, glancing over his looming form to look Wilbur in the eye. “He meant it this time, though. Stay out of trouble.”

Wilbur put a hand on his chest and gasped in mock astonishment. “Me? I would never. And that incident with the Ender official last month doesn’t count,” he added as Techno raised one brow skeptically.

“Whatever. See you in a bit then.” With that, Techno lumbered down the corridor, speeding up as a distant crashing noise rang through the ship.

Wilbur had tried waiting. But as the minutes turned to hours with no sign of either Techno or Phil with news, the boredom had started to take over. Pacing around the bridge had long lost its appeal, and other than sitting in his seat and staring at the metal panels on the wall, there wasn’t much in terms of entertainment to be found. He had mulled over what he thought was happening in the engine room as well, so instead he turned his thoughts to where they had landed. 

It would be night time in this area of the planet, and from what he remembered about humans they should all be asleep in their dwellings. He felt a strange twinge of disappointment at this fact. He was never going to be this close to Terra ever again after they left, and he was sad that he wouldn't be able to at least get a look at a human, even from a distance. He tried to remember other things about the planet. He knew that there were millions of species that lived on Terra, and he also knew that there was an extensive amount of flora as well. The forest that surrounded them proved this. He itched with the urge to explore it.

He glanced at the door. The ship had been mostly quiet for ages, and he figured it was going to take a while before the engine was fit enough to fly. Nobody would even notice if he went outside and took a few samples…

He was in front of the main ship doors before he had even processed what he was doing. Hesitating, he glanced back down into the ship. “If they find out I did this…” he whispered to himself, before shaking his head. Ultimately, his curiosity won, and he carefully opened the hatch and stepped outside. 

Terra’s moon cast dappled beams through the gaps in the trees, causing the phantom’s gray skin to shine almost silver. A slight breeze whispered its way through the foliage, and Wilbur stared unblinking into the dark night, four eyes wide with awe. He crept forward carefully, drinking in the sights around him. He could hear the calls of creatures cutting through the air, making the forest almost sing with the sound. 

Feeling more confident, he began walking through the trees, squinting to make out shapes in the low light. Phantoms possess naturally superior dark-vision than most species, but even Wilbur was finding it difficult to see anything more than a short distance away. The air also held a slight chill, making him wish he had thought to bring some more protective clothes than his thin jump-suit.

Despite all of this, he continued deeper into the woods, still marveling at the alien landscape he found himself in. Every so often he would stop and pluck leaves off of the bushes and trees, or pick up rocks to examine. It was during one such stop that he heard it: the faintest sounds of something sniffling in the darkness.

Quietly setting down the rock that he had been admiring, Wilbur moved slowly toward the sound, hardly daring to breathe as he got closer and closer to whatever was making it. He didn’t have to travel very far to see the source, and as he approached it, he strained his eyes to see in the moonlight.

A small shape was curled up by a tree, covered in a large cloak that seemed several sizes too big for its shape and shrouded in shadows. It was shaking, still making that strange, wet sniffling sound. 

Wilbur took a tentative step closer, then another, trying to determine what the creature was and why it was making such an awful noise. He was hardly paying attention to his surroundings, too focused on the stranger by the tree, when a sudden, loud snap broke the quiet as he mistakenly placed his foot down on one of the many branches littering the forest floor.

The figure’s head snapped up, and Wilbur’s blood turned to ice as he locked eyes with a human.

The first thing he noticed about the human was its eyes. There were only two of them, and they were a dull blue-gray that Wilbur was sure was much brighter in daylight. The skin around them was puffy and wet, and some sort of clear fluid ran in lines down the human’s face. The next thing he noticed was how small this human looked. From what he could see of its limbs, they looked long and lanky, and its face was rounder than most of the drawings that he’d seen. 

The look on its face morphed from confusion into an unmistakable look of terror as he processed the sight of the phantom standing only a few feet away from him in the treeline. It seemed frozen, mouth opening and closing as it continued to stare.

Wilbur raised his hands nervously, giving the human what he hoped was a non-threatening look. “Hey… it’s okay; I’m not going to hurt you- wait!”

It was like his words had broken whatever trance the human had been under, because it suddenly shot up and bolted away through the forest.

Wilbur scrambled to race after it, pushing aside branches and leaves as he fought to keep up. “No! Stop! I just want to talk to you!” He was dead. The human was going to tell the others that it had seen Wilbur, and then he’d be in so much trouble. Nevermind the consequences from the Server Council; Phil was going to murder him when he found out.

He could hear the human’s sharp breathing, frantic and fast, and realized with an ounce of relief that he was catching up. As soon as he caught it, he would show it that he wasn’t dangerous. Hopefully it was smart enough to figure out that Wilbur’s presence was supposed to be a secret and it wouldn’t tell any of its brethren about him. He doubted it.

A startled yelp snapped him back into focus. The human had tripped over a gnarled tree root and had fallen head-first into the trunk of a large tree. It crumpled into a pile of limbs, unmoving with its cloak pooled around it.

Wilbur was at its side in seconds, horrified by the sight that awaited him. 

The human’s leg already had begun to swell where it had made impact with the root, but what really had his attention was the large gash on its forehead, right beneath where its hair (fur?) covered the top of its head. An alarming amount of viscous, red liquid dripped steadily from the wound, and Wilbur remembered with a sickened feeling that human blood was bright red. The human in question was unconscious, still sprawled motionless on the leaves that covered the ground.

Guilt immediately clawed its way into Wilbur’s throat. If he had just stayed put on the ship like he was supposed to, then the human wouldn’t have gotten scared and injured.

“Shit…”

He started to turn to leave, but a nagging pull at the back of his head stopped him. He couldn’t just leave the human here like this; it was unconscious, and the scent of blood could lead some predator right to it. He struggled with his options for a moment, then decidedly made up his mind.

He made his way over to the human’s limp form and carefully picked it up. He half expected the human to spring up and run again as soon as he touched it, but it remained limp as he arranged it so that it was comfortably hanging across his back and shoulders. Satisfied that the human wasn’t going to fall and possibly be injured more, the phantom began the walk back to the SBI.

Once Wilbur had gotten the human to the ship and had settled it into one of the medbay beds, he was left to ponder the full extent of his actions.

On one hand, he was dreading the conversation he was going to have when he worked up the courage to tell the other two members of his crew why there was suddenly a human aboard the SBI.

And yet, there was a small part of him that was filled with excitement. Here was a human, something that he had only heard stories and read about in books, and it was just laying right in front of him.

As he bandaged the cut on its head, he noted that its skin was a lot thinner than his or Techno’s, but not as much so as Phil’s. No wonder it was wearing a cloak; it was probably freezing. He absentmindedly wondered if the room was warm enough for it.

When he was done, he collapsed into one of the chairs that lined the room, thoroughly exhausted from running through the forest and then subsequently having to carry the human back to the ship. He didn’t even realize he was falling asleep until he woke up again, bolting upright and looking around wildly.

Wilbur noticed two things right away that made him panic for the second time since the SBI was stranded.

One was that the engines were running again, their familiar rumble once again permeating the ship, and as he looked around he caught sight of the blackness of space through a small window at the far end of the room.

The second was that the human was nowhere in sight.

Chapter Text

Tommy slithered his way forward, stirring up dust in the small space he was moving through and making his nose itch. His mind was reeling, thoughts fighting through the pounding headache that threatened to make him faint again.

When he had woken up in a bed, he was confused for a long moment. Hadn’t he been in the woods? 

And then the pain had hit him, along with the memories of what had happened. Clutching his head against the bright lights in the room, he had scanned his surroundings. His eyes widened when they met the shape of the thing sitting across the room. It was the same creature that had chased him through the woods, and with a sinking feeling Tommy realized that it had succeeded in catching him. He almost screamed, but when he looked closer he noticed that the thing looked like it was sleeping. It hadn’t moved once since Tommy had woken up, four eyes closed and head lolled over the back of the chair.

Scrambling to get out of the bed he had been put in, Tommy took in the rest of the room. It was full of random machines, with tubes and wires hanging from both them and the ceiling. Several other beds also lined the walls, with chairs set between them. On the far end of the room, he could see what looked like a door.

He hurriedly started to limp across the room, trying to make it to the door before the gray skinned fucker woke up and caught him again, but the sight of the window above the doorway stopped him in his tracks.

Inky blackness dotted with small pinpricks of light drifted idly by. At first he didn’t realize what he was looking at. When it hit him, he swayed on his feet from the sudden weak feeling in his knees. It was space. He was in space . The gray alien had chased him down and kidnapped him. Tommy may not be an expert on aliens, but getting kidnapped after being chased by one through the fucking woods did not make it seem like he was here for a fun time.

No longer even feeling his bruised ankle with the sudden rush of adrenaline coursing through him, he broke into a run, sweat dripping down his forehead despite the chill that had danced down his spine. Turning the corner out of the room with the wires, he was met with the sight of a long, bleak hallway. Several other hallways branched off of this one, and he took them at random, running deeper and deeper into the maze of identical, pale metal passageways. He could feel his heart start to race, and he suspected his heavy breathing was only partially due to his frantic sprint.

Muttering a constant stream of “What the fuck what the fuck what the fuck ” under his breath, Tommy slowed to a stop at one crossroad of hallways, eyes darting around for anything that would hint as to a place to hide.

He found what he was looking for in the shape of a small vent near the ceiling of the hallway on his right, and he quickly made his way to it. With trembling fingers, he lifted the cover off of the vent and began to pull himself into it. No sooner had he started to do so when he heard the muffled thumps of approaching footsteps from further down the hallway.

He just managed to climb into the vent and pull the cover back on before the owner of the footsteps rounded the corner. Peering through the slats in the vent cover, Tommy had to slap a hand across his mouth to stop the gasp that threatened to leave him.

The alien that crossed his field of view was not the same kind as the stupid gray one that took him. This alien was large, covered in short, pale pink fur, and had a snout akin to a boar. Two large, gleaming tusks curled up the sides of its face, coming to a rest right underneath two golden eyes. It was wearing the same type of clothes as the other gray alien (Tommy had started referring to that one as Gray Bitch), although they must have been double the size.

As it walked by, Tommy saw that it was speaking into some sort of device strapped to its wrist. The alien’s voice came out as a jumble of growls and strange bark-like tones, and Tommy had to suppress a shudder of fear. It didn’t seem to be looking for him yet, but it was only a matter of time before Gray Bitch woke up and alerted its friend that he was missing.

Taking a shaky breath, Tommy turned and began worming his way further into the ventilation, fighting through exhaustion and pain in an effort to find somewhere he could hide out until he had a plan for what to do.

After what felt like hours of slowly shimmying his way down the cramped passages, he came to a place where the walls spread out. It seemed to be a junction, where his vent split into four others that snaked their way to other parts of the ship. It gave him enough room to sit up and stretch out his arms. Glancing around at the space, he decided this was as good a secret base as any. Straining his ears, the only things he could hear were the slight whoosh of air moving through the vents and the steady rumble of the ship’s engines. 

He pulled his legs up against his chest and let out a sigh, holding back tears. He was all alone, hiding like a mouse in a ship full of creatures that most likely wanted to experiment on him. No one on Earth would even know he was missing yet, and even when they did discover his absence, who would think to check if he’d been abducted by aliens? 

If they even care to look for me at all, he thought bitterly, a few tears tracing their previous path down his dirt smudged face.

He only allowed himself to wallow in pity for a few moments, then took a few deep breaths and began to assess his situation. Upon inspection of his forehead, he found that one of the aliens, probably Gray Bitch, had bandaged it with puffy gauze. His ankle that he’d hurt while running in the woods felt tender and sore, but to his relief, Tommy didn’t think it was even sprained. He was muddy and a bit bruised and his head ached with a pounding pain, but otherwise he was unharmed.

Exhaustion seemed to settle deep in his bones, the adrenaline of the night finally starting to subside. Removing his coat, he laid it across the floor of the vent and curled up on top of it. In the morning, he would scout out the rest of the vents and see if he could steal some food. But for now, sleep dragged him down into its quiet arms.

Chapter Text

Wilbur's footfalls echoed through the corridors as he ran through them, swearing under his breath the whole while. The dull gray of the metal walls, interrupted briefly by instrument panels and the occasional flashing light, blurred as he hurried past.

One nice thing. He tried to do one nice thing and help the human that he accidentally caused to be injured and look where it got him! Huffing in annoyance and slight hysteria, he dashed around another corner, both sets of eyes wide to catch any sign of the small alien that was now running loose aboard the SBI. 

Wilbur had never been in this kind of trouble before. Yes, he might have been the one to play pranks and get into mischief more than the others, but this was on a whole new scale. He also knew that if the others found out what he had done, he’d be in so much trouble. Forget ever going on a mission ever again. Forget leaving his home planet ever again. Honestly, maybe he should just throw himself out of the airlock now and get it over with.

Turning yet another corner and seeing no sign of the human, he skidded to a stop, panting. Letting his frayed mind catch up to him for a moment, he was suddenly struck with a distressing thought: the human might die before he’s able to get it back to Terra. It had no food, no water, and if Techno or Phil caught it they would most likely kill it on sight. Humans had a bad reputation around the galaxy; there was a reason Terra was off limits. The Server Council had decided that they were too unstable to be exposed to the rest of the life in the universe, and from what the phantom had seen of the species' history, he was inclined to agree.

Wilbur had been face to face with this particular human though, and so far it had had two chances to attack and chose not to. That’s not to say he didn’t think that it was dangerous (it was almost fully grown, after all) but he wanted to at least give it a chance to be reasoned with. At the very least, he could sedate it and release it back to Terra to be the other humans’ problem once again.

First things first, though. He needed to find the human.

Starting to move once again, he had just rounded the turn at the end of the corridor to head back towards the med bay (in case the human had thought of doubling back; he wasn’t exactly sure how smart they were but he knew they had basic intelligence at the very least) when he came face to face with just about the last person he wanted to see.

Large black feathers puffed (and a bit singed, Wilbur noticed with muted amusement) splayed behind draping green robes, Philza reeled back at the sight of his hurried entrance. After the initial surprise, the captain relaxed when his eyes landed on his crewmate.

Shifting his feathers back into their usual sleek form, he strode up to Wilbur with a chirp of greeting. “Hiya, mate. Where’ve you been? Techno says you weren’t up at the bridge.”

Wilbur froze, plastering a fake smile on his face that he hoped screamed ‘I’m not doing anything suspicious please don’t ask me anything please and thank you.’ “I…uh…got tired waiting for you guys and I wanted a nap. Yeah. Naps are… good.”

Phil tilted his head, the corners of his mouth twitching into a confused smile. “Alright…? Anyway, Techno says to tell you to come to the cafeteria and help him make dinner. He’d tell you himself but his communicator got a bit busted while working on the engine.” At this, he glanced sorrowfully down at his burnt wing tips and Wilbur suspected the same accident had been the cause.

Still smiling in fake cheerfullness, the phantom nodded. “Sure! Yup, I’ll go find him! Uh… right now! Bye, Phil!” He made a beeline for the cafeteria, hearing Phil call out a puzzled “See ya!” at his retreating back. Once he was out of sight, he paused, taking a few deep breaths to quell the pounding in his ears. 

He needed to be more careful. If the others suspected he was hiding something, they wouldn’t let it go, and he’d have to tell them about the human.

Once he was sure his heart wasn’t about to crash through his ribcage, he made his way through the maze of hallways to the cafeteria, seeing Technoblade waiting by the storage closet for him.

The piglin barely glanced at him as he approached. “I see Phil finally found you.” He began rummaging through the crates of food, muttering quietly under his breath as he took inventory of what they still had stocked away.

“I was sleeping,” Wilbur replied, hoping that telling at least the partial truth would make the answer seem casual.

At this, Techno actually did pause for a moment, sending him a narrow eyed look over his shoulder with a twitch of his snout. “Really? You weren’t in your room.”

Wilbur kept his expression neutral, panicking internally as he pretended to take stock of the shelves of vegetables. “I was in the med bay,” he blurted out, immediately regretting his words.

Techno turned around and fixed him with a deadpan stare, intimidating despite being slightly shorter than the other. “You… were sleeping. In the med bay.”

“Yes.”

“...”

“...”

“...why?”

Wilbur scrambled to scrounge up a convincing lie. “I was sick. The crash, it made me, like, super fucking nauseous. I went to get myself some medicine and I fell asleep waiting for it to work.”

He held his breath, waiting for Techno to call his bluff, but the piglin just snorted and said “L.”

Wilbur felt his knees go weak from the amount of relief that crashed through him at his crewmate’s lack of questioning. Turning back to the task at hand, he began pulling some of the cans from the shelves and made his way over to the food preparation area. Techno joined him after a few moments, scarred, pink arms full of his own ingredients. 

As they prepared their dinner, Wilbur found himself relaxing slightly. He didn’t realize just how wound up he was from the events that had transpired earlier that day until his focus was drawn to the simple tasks of cutting up root vegetables and washing greens, listening to the sounds of his piglin crewmate roasting, seasoning, and working the stove. Techno was always someone that Wilbur felt comfortable around, someone who he trusted and felt safe with. Even with the secret of the human stowaway looming in the back of his mind, he felt like he could breathe better in the peaceful companionship of his friend.

After a while of comfortable silence, Wilbur cleared his throat, causing Techno to look up from the pan he was stirring. “So.. I saw you and Phil managed to fix the engine.”

“Wow, what gave that away? The fact that we’re both not still down in the engine room or the stars outside the window?” Despite his sarcastic quip, Wilbur could see amusement glittering in Techno’s eyes.

“Okay, okay, it was a dumb thing to say.” He punched Techno’s shoulder lightly when the piglin let out a huff of laughter. “I just wanted to make conversation, ya know? Catch up on what’s been going on.”

Still smirking slightly, Techno responded. “Well, while you were getting your beauty sleep-” “HEY!” “- some of us were battling an engine fire. Fortunately the only casualties were a few tools, a communicator, and a couple o’ Phil’s feathers.”

Wilbur stifled a laugh. “Yeah, I saw.”

They continued bantering, cracking jokes and reminiscing on the last time Phil had lost a few feathers. Wilbur could almost pretend it was any other day, that the only thing he had to hide was some minor prank like stealing snacks from Phil or hiding Techno’s favorite sword in some random part of the ship.

Actually, considering that last one had nearly gotten him impaled with said sword by a very unamused Techno once he had found it, maybe that shouldn’t be labeled as a minor prank.

The point was that Wilbur had nearly put the whole ‘accidentally kidnapped a human’ thing out of his mind, when Techno suddenly paused his stirring, tilting his head back and raising his nose.

Wilbur froze, watching as the piglin drew in a deep breath, blood running cold as Techno’s eyes widened minutely.

Exhaling in a huff, Techno turned to meet Wilbur’s gaze. “I smell something.”

The phantom tried to laugh it off. “Well, I’d hope so! We just made this whole meal, after all!” He chuckled nervously, but Techno shook his head.

“No, it’s not that. It’s… I don’t know what it is.” He continued taking deep breaths, teeth grinding and face crinkled in confusion. “It’s barely there, so I didn’t notice it before.” After another breath, he whipped his head around to look at Wilbur. “You smell like it, too.”

Wilbur’s surprise at that statement was real, until the reason dawned on him. He had already guessed that the weird smell Techno was noticing was the scent of the human that was hiding somewhere in the ship (curse piglins and their enhanced sense of smell), but he remembered just then that he had carried the human back to the ship. The human’s scent was probably all over him, even if it was probably stale at this point.

Pointedly avoiding Techno’s searching gaze, Wilbur hummed nonchalauntly. “Oh, I guess I must have gotten something on me while I was in the med bay.”

Techno didn’t look convinced. “I don’t know, it’s not something I’ve ever smelled before.”

Wilbur scoffed. “It’s probably another one of those weird oil balms Phil gets for his feathers. The last one was so strong even I could smell it.” He patted Techno’s shoulder, smiling. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll do laundry after dinner and the smell should be gone then.”

Techno looked like he was about to say something, when the whoosh of Phil opening the door to the cafeteria and striding in interrupted him.

The piglin grabbed his dish, joining Phil in the avian’s walk to the dining area after flashing Wilbur a ‘look’.

Grabbing his own plate piled high with vegetables, Wilbur was just about to follow him when he caught sight of the vent near the ceiling above the stove. A theory taking form in his mind, Wilbur walked slowly back to the food shelves and grabbed a single golden apple from its place among the stores and, not taking his eyes off the vent, placed it gently down on the counter next to the stove. He once again grabbed his plate, gave the vent one last lingering glance, and made his way into the next room where his crewmates were beginning to dig into Techno’s food.

When he made his way back into the kitchen sometime later to wash the dishes, the golden apple was gone.

Wilbur smiled.

Chapter Text

Shuffling a bit in the narrow space, Tommy turned to replace the vent cover back to its original placement. Checking that it was properly secured, he then began making the short journey through the ventilation to his makeshift base. Every so often he paused to take another bite of the strange, golden fruit he had once again managed to steal, clutching the others against his side.

Ever since that first reconnaissance mission where he had discovered Gray Bitch and Pig Man cooking from the safety of the vents (he liked calling them reconnaissance missions; it made him feel more in control of his hopeless situation. Plus it's just cool), he had come back every day to take a few of the fruits and eat them back at the junction. They were strange, almost like earth apples, but way sweeter and juicy enough that Tommy hoped he could get by with their hydration until he found a way to get water.

It was difficult to say how long he had been trapped on the ship. It had been at least a few days, if his internal sense of time was to be trusted. He lacked the sun’s cycles to tell what time it was, and the lights in the corridors seemed to be on perpetually. He was mostly relying on what he thought were scheduled meal times taken by the alien crew.

To his knowledge, there only seemed to be three of them. Pig Man seemed to be the one who made most of the food, and Tommy had wondered if he was supposed to be the ship chef. He looked far too intimidating though, and occasionally Gray Bitch would help him as well so he must have some other job besides food preparation. 

And then there was the Bird.

Bird was the smallest of the three, but no less scary and foreign. His face seemed almost human-like, if you ignored the feathers that wrapped up around his head where his ears would have been and the black, almost void like eyes. The rest of his body, however, was as alien as the others. Where a human’s feet and legs would have been were instead large, taloned feet that reminded Tommy of pictures he’d seen of raptors and birds of prey. His arms also ended in taloned claws, albeit smaller than the ones on his feet. 

And the wings. 

Two massive black wings graced the other’s back, the sleek feathers usually resting over the back of the green cloak Bird always wore over his black jumpsuit. Interestingly, his hair was a blond not unlike Tommy’s own hair color, spilling over his shoulders from underneath a green and white striped hat. A heart shaped pendant hung from a silver chain around his neck, and despite never getting too close to the vent openings in fear of being seen, Tommy could tell that it glowed faintly. Honestly, the alien’s outfit might have been kind of silly if the alien wearing it weren’t so incredibly frightening.

Reaching his base, Tommy set the other golden fruit with the two others he still had left in his stockpile and rested his head back against the cool metal wall. Closing his eyes, he let his mind wander back to earth, pretending the slight draft he felt gently blowing through his hair was wind blowing through an open window, and that he was back in his room.

He pretended that the wetness he felt on his checks was just rain.

He pretended, just for a moment, that aliens didn’t exist.

He hadn’t realized he was drifting off to sleep until he was drawn out of his slumber by the sounds of a strange melody echoing softly through the vents. Blinking sleep and dried tears out of his eyes, Tommy scrunched up his face, mind caught between fearing the noise and wondering what was creating it.

His curiosity won, in the end, and he found himself slowly creeping down one of the vents, barely breathing as he got closer and closer to the music. Turning around a bend in the tunneled space, he saw light filtering in through the gaps in the vent cover. The music was louder now.

Coming as close as he dared to the exit, Tommy peered through the slats in the cover and into the room beyond. It looked to be some sort of bedroom, with a bed and a desk and objects scattered across shelves and even the floor. His eyes eventually settled on the chair in the corner, or more accurately, who was currently occupying it.

Gray Bitch, still clad in his usual jumpsuit, was clutching what looked like some sort of instrument. Tommy’s mind immediately thought of a guitar, but the four eyed alien was holding it at a more upright angle, and it had seven strings instead of the usual six of an earthen guitar. It was the source of the strange melody; Gray Bitch was plucking at the strings with a surprising gentleness, the song less aggressive and murder-y than Tommy would have expected from his extraterrestrial kidnapper.

The gray alien had his eyes closed, swaying slightly in time with the slow ringing of the strings. Tommy looked on in awe, shifting closer and watching with rapt attention. The song was beautiful, the notes so familiar and yet so hauntingly alien at the same time. It was unlike anything he’d ever heard before, and he relaxed a bit in favor of just letting the music wash over him.

Tommy didn’t realize the song had come to an end until Gray Bitch opened his eyes and let out a small chattering vocalization, moving to put the alien-guitar down. He had only moved a few inches, however, when he suddenly froze, eyes flashing towards the vent where Tommy was hiding.

He had moved too close. The alien could see him. The alien could see him .

Blood turning to ice within his veins, Tommy felt frozen to the spot, eyes locked on the alien in front of him. His breath was caught in his throat, and all he could hear was the blood pounding in his ears over the silence between them.

He was just starting to think about his chances of losing the alien in the vents if the other decided to chase him when Gray Bitch blinked once, twice, and then glanced briefly down at the instrument still clutched in his hand before once again settling his gaze on Tommy. Something changed minutely in his expression, his face twitching slightly in a way that Tommy couldn’t decipher.

Then, to Tommy’s amazement, he slowly and delicately pulled the alien-guitar back into its original spot, positioning his hands back over the strings with careful deliberateness. He plucked a few notes of the song again, keeping his eyes locked on the human in the vent as he muttered a few soft chatters.

Tommy stayed motionless, fear rooting him in place.

Gray Bitch muttered a few more things in his warbling voice, and started the song again, this time a bit softer and slower than before. The music was still hauntingly beautiful, filling the air with its twisting melodies and strange intervals as the two continued to just stare, neither moving at all besides the practiced plucking of the alien’s hands on the instrument.

As the song once again drew to a close, Tommy tensed, unsure of what the other would do. Gray Bitch again warbled and chattered lowly, setting the alien-guitar gently down to rest against the side of the chair. Tommy’s eyes widened fearfully when the gray skinned alien stood up, but the other held its hands up in a placating manner, still talking slowly and quietly not unlike how you would coo at a cornered animal ( that’s exactly what you are , Tommy’s brain supplied unhelpfully) and he made his way to the door of the room, four eyes never leaving his. Pressing his hand on the small instrument panel next to the door to open it, Gray Bitch made one last chattering noise and, to Tommy’s bafflement, turned and walked out into the corridor beyond, closing the door behind him.

Tommy had no idea where the alien was going. It could be getting his crewmates, alerting them to Tommy’s hiding place. Or it could be going off to get something to deal with him himself. 

Either way, Tommy was not going to stick around until he got back. Turning on shaking limbs, the human bolted back down the vent shaft, reeling mind filled with the memory of alien music and two pairs of searching eyes.

Chapter Text

The ship was quiet, the only sound the echoing rumble of the engines as Wilbur made his way through the abandoned corridors. 

After the encounter he had just had, he needed a place to think. Normally, he would unwind with music or a book before sleeping, but seeing as the human may still be lurking somewhere in his vents, staying in his room was not really an option.

Running a hand through his curly hair, Wilbur sighed. Every encounter he had with the human just proved to further confuse him. Humans were supposed to be vicious, crazed predators that used their intelligence to wreak havoc. They couldn’t even get along with members of their own species, for Prime’s sake! 

And yet…

And yet this particular human didn’t seem cruel. It didn’t seem to want to maim or kill or even fight. 

Perhaps that made it more dangerous. It was unpredictable, a contradiction. 

And it was scared.

Wilbur reached his destination: a dark colored door with a heavy duty lock. Placing one webbed hand against the scanner, he heard the hiss of the door’s internal mechanisms and watched it slowly slide open. 

Blinking to adjust his eyes to the change in light, Wilbur paused to take in his surroundings. The interior of the room was dim, lit only by the pink tinted grow lights by the far wall that illuminated a variety of different plants all growing in pots beneath them. Tables and benches were placed sporadically around the room, piled high with clutter. Wires and cables snaked their way across the floor and ceiling, and Wilbur made sure to watch his feet as he made his way over to one of the work benches and collapsed onto it.

His lab may not be the most… calm of places, but it was somewhere that he knew he wouldn’t be bothered, and right now that’s all he wanted. He thought briefly of waking Phil and Techno, just to chat and take his mind off of his predicament, but pushed away the thought. They would just ask a bunch of questions, and he was not ready to answer them just yet.

Wilbur stared down at his gray hands, picking absentmindedly at the webbing between each claw as he let his mind wander back to when he first joined the crew of the SBI.

It had been years since then, but he could still feel the thrill of walking aboard the ship for the first time, knowing he was about to go places he had only dreamed of seeing. After his… accident… he had practically given up on a normal life. Stares from his fellow phantoms haunted his days, reminding him over and over of his loss. It was practically fate that the SBI landed at his port to refuel and were coincidentally also looking for a new addition to their crew. 

Wilbur hadn’t even hesitated.

Phil and Techno had been welcoming, if not a bit reserved at first, but it was a huge relief to finally have people to talk to that didn’t know his history. They didn’t know about the wars (at least not his personal involvement), didn’t know about the nation he used to love. 

Didn’t know how he had lost it.

They obviously noticed his unusual lack of wings, but even then they never pried. Never asked why he was so anxious to leave. They didn’t treat him differently.

His main job, at first, had been to man the radio controls and contact flight advisors when they were in different airspaces. Days were spent at the radio controls, talking with various officials and guiding the ship’s navigation of space. He had had enough training in that after a few weeks to find it easy, and thus had started to tinker around with other projects. Eventually, Phil had noticed the way his eyes seemed to wander across the planets they stopped at, absorbing any new or interesting fact he could, and decided to promote him as ship researcher along with his communications job. Wilbur couldn’t have been happier with his current position. Over time, he had begun to see the crew of the SBI as a type of family, and he knew that Philza and Technoblade felt the same about him. The three of them, out to traverse the stars.

Getting an entire lab to himself was just an added bonus.

Letting out a slow breath, Wilbur felt exhaustion creep through him. Anxiety was tiring enough when it was just the usual; now that he had something big to worry about he was feeling the effects. In the weak glow of the lab, he felt his eyes getting heavy but he fought to stay awake.

Pushing himself to his feet, he strode over to his writing desk and plopped himself down in the chair in front of it. Resigning himself to a long night, he cracked his fingers and pulled out his notebook and a pen.

He had work to do.

Days passed with no further sightings of the human. Wilbur would walk the corridors of the SBI, subtly peering into vents as he went or pausing occasionally to listen for any scurrying footsteps, and yet the human seemed to have increased its stealthiness after the incident in Wilbur’s room.

This fact would probably worry the phantom, were it not for the continued disappearance of food unaccounted for by the meals of the crew. Almost daily, Wilbur noted that some amount of food would seemingly vanish from their stores. It was never much; a gapple or two here and there, or once a few slices of bread. Nothing that anyone would notice unless they were looking for it, and Wilbur felt a strange surge of fondness as he mentally thanked the human for having at least that bit of sense. It would be hard to explain to Techno and Phil why half their rations had suddenly evaporated out of existence. 

Even without that extra bonus, though, there was one other reason the stolen food served to lift Wilbur’s mood. It meant that the human regularly visited the cafeteria. And Wilbur now had a place to enact his plan.

Five days after his last encounter, Wilbur decided it was time. 

Cool metal pressed against his back as he sat, still and silent, inside one of the kitchen cabinets. His breath came in shallow bursts, barely filling his tense chest as he waited. He had been there for almost an hour, having crept to the cafeteria as soon as his crewmates had decided to turn in for their sleep shift, and his limbs were starting to ache from being contorted to fit into his impromptu hiding place. The silence was unnerving as Wilbur strained his ears to pick up any sound apart from the ever present hum of the ship.

It would all be worth it, though, to finally get a chance at seeing the human again. Guilt prickled at the back of Wilbur’s mind as he was once again reminded of the fact that it was his fault the human was in this situation at all.

If I had just stayed on the damn ship… He sighed, closing his eyes.

His mind was drawn back into focus at the faint sound of scratching, getting louder by the second. He immediately sat up a bit straighter, eyes snapping open and muscles tensing as he listened to the pittering noise get closer and closer. He was just starting to feel a bit lightheaded from how long he had been holding his breath when there was a pause in the noise, and then a quiet creaaaak filled the stale air of the kitchen, followed by a lot of shuffling.

Wilbur was frozen, four wide eyes staring through the darkness at the door of the cabinet as he heard footsteps move past him and head toward the storage. It seemed like the human was taking care to be quiet, but the phantom could still hear the faint clinking of bottles and crinkling of packaging as the human rummaged through the food stores. After a few seconds, his brain remembered why he was in the cabinet in the first place, and he slowly opened the door and maneuvered himself out of it, staying crouched on the floor out of sight. Feeling the blood rushing in his veins, Wilbur pushed himself up so that he could see over the edge of the counter.

The human had his back turned to him, and Wilbur could see his skinny frame twist to reach for the higher shelves. He had lost the cloak, Wilbur noticed, and was clad in plain pants and a white and red shirt that was still surprisingly vivid despite the obvious dirt that covered some parts of it. Now that he was out in the open, Wilbur could hear the human making noises to itself, grumbling in a series of squeaks that sounded a lot like annoyance.

The phantom blinked, lifting himself a bit higher to watch as the human continued his careful search for food. It was strange, seeing something that he had always been told was savage and cruel looking so… nonthreatening. It was almost cute, waving his hands in the air as he squeaked and muttered to himself. 

The human’s voice began to get louder, the quiet grumbling transitioning into full on barks as Wilbur watched.

Wilbur was just wondering if the human’s annoyance had anything to do with the fact that they had run out of its favorite food (gapples, obviously) the day before when the human suddenly let out a dramatic huff, hands flying into the air in an upset motion as it started a new tirade that was even louder still. The human spun around mid-grumbling, face contorted with a rage that faded as quickly as the words that died in his throat and oh , Wilbur was not hidden.

Blue eyes met gray, and for a moment, neither of them moved. Then, the human’s mouth opened wide a second before the most piercing screech Wilbur had ever heard in his life filled the air. The human flailed its arms, running back into the storage area still screeching and squawking as Wilbur winced from the noise. He straightened up to his full height and scrambled over to the vent, standing in front of it.

The human had by then realized that there was no exit in the storage room, and had run back into the kitchen to see Wilbur blocking the exit. His eyes were bright with panic, chest heaving as he glanced wildly around to look for another way out. There wasn’t one, as Wilbur had locked the door before going into the cabinet and the human wasn’t in the ship’s scanning database.

Wilbur put his hands up, trying to look smaller and friendly. The human’s eyes snapped back to his, and his expression morphed from pure fear to something mixed with anger, and he began hurling screeches at the phantom. Wilbur winced again, the sound grating in his sensitive ears, and the human’s gaze lit up. His yells increased in volume, throwing what were obviously taunts in the human’s language across the room. 

“It’s okay! I’m not here to hurt you!” Wilbur tried to chirp through the rant, but the human did not seem to like that, baring his teeth and hurling still more angry screeches at the phantom. 

With a sinking feeling, Wilbur realized the human was not going to listen to anything he had to say. He was too angry and scared ( rightfully so , Wilbur thought with another twinge of guilt), and Wilbur needed to think of another plan before the human decided to attack him to get back to the vent and escape.

Slowly, he moved one of his hands down to his pocket. The human’s gaze locked onto his hand, his voice pitching up in fear as he flinched back. His expression changed from panic to confusion, however, when Wilbur drew his hand back out, clutching a gapple in his webbed claws. It was the last one on the ship, and Wilbur had wanted to give it as a peace offering. This wasn’t exactly what he had in mind as far as olive branch exchanges, but it seemed to work.

The human’s brows furrowed, eyes darting back and forth from Wilbur’s to the gapple in his hand. He hadn’t relaxed fully, and there was still suspicion within his blue stare, but he had lost his frantic energy in favor of curiosity.

Wilbur tentatively held out the gapple, four eyes never leaving the human’s. For the second time that evening, there was a moment of stillness.

The human was only a few feet away, back pressed against the wall next to the storage. It would only have to take a few steps forward to reach the fruit.

Wilbur was as still as a statue, still holding the gapple in his outstretched hand. The human glanced again at the gapple, taking a hesitant step forward. Wilbur didn’t move, didn’t even breathe. Upon seeing this, the human took another step forward, the soft footfalls the only sound in the now glaringly silent kitchen.

He was now right in front of him, distrust and intrigue warring on his pale face. Eventually, his hunger seemed to win. Darting forward, he snatched the gapple from his claws and retreated back to the far wall. Wilbur made no move to follow, simply dropping his hands back to his sides.

The human put the fruit up to his face, sniffing it with narrowed eyes. Wilbur only blinked mildly at the glare that was shot his way. Finding nothing wrong with it, the human took a bite of the gapple. He looked down at it, inspecting the insides as though Wilbur had somehow tampered with the flesh.

Noticing his distraction, Wilbur carefully took a step sideways, inching closer to the counter. The human flinched, barking out another angry sound, but the phantom continued his slow creep to the side until the space in front of the stove vent was cleared.

Surprise painted its way onto the human’s face. He looked at the vent. He looked back at Wilbur. The phantom tilted his head toward the vent and blinked again, hoping the human got the message.

With stuttering steps that screamed caution with every movement, the human crept to the vent, opening the cover with remarkably deft hands. He gave Wilbur one last, puzzled look before scurrying inside and taking off down the tunnel.

Wilbur slid down the side of the counter and onto the floor, feeling dazed. His heart was straining against his ribs, threatening to break them. 

He let out a hysterical chuckle.

Well. That was… chaotic.

Chapter Text

Days on the ship began to feel somewhat routine. Tommy would wake up in the vents, stretch out limbs still aching from the confined space, and make his way through the winding tunnels in search of things to borrow (*cough* steal *cough*) and make use of.

In the beginning, it had been food. After the first time he had nabbed the gold fruit from what he assumed was the aliens’ idea of a kitchen, it had become a regular stopping point in his daily theft. Besides allowing him to not starve to death, he also found great satisfaction in taking the food. After all, the aliens had stolen him from his home. A little food was nothing in comparison.

After a few days of this, his confidence began to grow. He noted that the aliens kept to a pretty consistent schedule, and once he figured it out, it was almost too easy to grab whatever he wanted and squirrel it away in his base. So far, he had taken a spare blanket, a small spoon from the kitchen, a bit of wire, a tool that looked similar to a screwdriver, and a glass that he used to keep water in. He didn’t have much use for some of them, but now he at least had them. Just in case. Big Men need to be prepared for anything.

The only change in this routine was his new… acquaintance? He was hesitant to call Gray Bitch anything more positive than that (the guy DID kidnap him) but the four-eyed alien seemed to want to interact with him every chance he got.

The incidents with the space guitar and then in the kitchen were painting a very confusing picture in Tommy’s head. Gray Bitch could have taken him, he was defenseless, and yet he had let him go. 

Why?

He had made no move to harm him, or try and capture him, and it didn’t make any sense.

Every night he was there now, waiting for him in the kitchens with food or more bandages, or just simply to watch him rummage around in the food stores. He never tries to get closer to Tommy, just sits on the counter or stands in the corner making his weird rumbles and chirps. The only time he ever made any type of negative act toward him was a threatening hiss type sound when Tommy had been eyeing the knives hanging on the wall above the alien’s head for a bit too long. The next night, Tommy was half disappointed and half amused to find them missing.

He wondered idly as he sifted through the shelves that night about how Gray Bitch had explained that to Bird and Pig Man, because as far as the human could tell, the others were not aware of him yet, and the gray alien strangely didn’t seem that hurried to tell them.

Probably wants the glory of having a human all to himself. Bastard.

He was there again tonight too, sitting on top of the counter chattering away as if Tommy had any idea of what he was saying. Like usual, Tommy just tried to ignore him, getting his food as quickly as he could. God he wished they still had the golden apples.

“You should really get some better food in this place. You know, as a little ‘I’m Sorry’ for fucking kidnapping me and shit? Would be nice of you,” he grumbled, gathering up what he picked and walking out of the storage.

The next few seconds felt like they happened in slow motion.

Gray Bitch, who was still making his little chirping noises (God, did he ever shut up??) suddenly snapped his mouth closed, ears flying up and eyes glazing over. Tommy stopped dead in his tracks, peering across the distance between them with a growing sense of dread. 

The alien’s eyes widened with alarm a split second before Tommy heard the engines give a strange spluttering groan and he was thrown to the floor as the ship was rocked violently sideways.

Gray Bitch let out a warbled screech as he was flung from the counter onto the floor next to Tommy, scrambling to cover his head as food and other kitchen debris went flying as the ship continued to shake.

Still reeling with surprise, Tommy took a second to gather himself as he looked around for something, anything, to help the situation he now found himself stuck in.

There.

There was space under the shelves in the storage area to take shelter. Pushing himself up on bruised forearms, he made to crawl over to them. A frightened chirp made him pause.

The gray alien was curled up, claws over his head with eyes shut tight as the ship continued its erratic movements. 

Tommy only hesitated for a millisecond before grabbing Gray Bitch by the arm and dragging him, still cowering, behind him to the storage area.

After practically shoving the alien into the space, Tommy squeezed himself in after, conscious of the way he was now pressed arm to arm with the being that had literally kidnapped him.

Looking at him now, however, Tommy couldn’t find it in himself to feel afraid. The alien was still covering his head, letting out distressed chirps every few seconds. With growing alarm, Tommy realized that the shaking he was feeling wasn’t just the ship, the alien was trembling and his breathing was still so fast and oh he’s having a panic attack.

“H-hey… You’re okay. We’re safe under here. We’re okay. You’re okay,” Tommy muttered softly above the groaning engines. Gray Bitch gave no response or even any indication that he heard the words, but Tommy continued to repeat them over and over in what he hoped was a calm tone.

“Just take some deep breaths. You’re okay. We’re okay.” He tried to slow his own breathing down in hopes that the gray alien would feel it and copy him. Miraculously, after a few minutes of this, it seemed to work. The chirping noises stopped, and while Gray Bitch continued to breathe faster than what Tommy thought was normal, it at least seemed more controlled than the frantic gasps from earlier.

Sometime during Tommy’s muttered affirmations, Gray Bitch had opened his eyes, gaze fixed glassly on the floor. Slowly, he turned them to Tommy and gave a small warble. 

Tommy gave him a small, hesitant smile. “We’re okay,” he murmured again.

For a long moment, the only sound was the struggling engines and the rattle of pots and pans rolling across the floor as Tommy and the gray alien continued to take increasingly slower breaths, stowing their panic.

A beeping noise caught both of their attention over the din, focus snapping to the small device strapped to Gray Bitch’s wrist. Tommy had just enough time to recognize it as the same device Pig Man was speaking into the first time he saw him when Gray Bitch sprang into action, frantically pressing buttons and holding his wrist to his face. Tommy realized that the device must be some sort of communicator, because as soon as Gray Bitch pressed a final button, the panicked, cawing voice of Bird came blasting out of it.

The two alien’s words passed in a blur of chirps and chattering sounds, and Tommy watched intently as Gray Bitch’s face contorted with whatever news he was receiving, desperate for any context with the language barrier between them. 

Apparently finishing their conversation, Gray Bitch abruptly ended the call with another push of a button and started to wiggle out from beneath the storage shelves. Once free, he turned back to Tommy and gave him an urgent sounding chirp.

Tommy scrunched up his face, looking up at the alien with disbelief. “Ohh no, I am not going with you. I’m staying right here, thank you very fucking much.”

Gray Bitch gave another, more insistent chirp. When Tommy again made no move to follow, he let out a distressed warble that sounded faintly exasperated. He motioned to Tommy, then motioned to the vent, chattering slowly.

What the fuck . Tommy cautiously crawled out from the shelves, making his way past Gray Bitch and through the debris strewn about the floor to the wall with the vent. Looking back, he saw Gray Bitch at the door to the kitchen, knees wobbling with the effort to stand against the shaking of the ship.

Giving each other one last, meaningful look, the two of them parted ways, Gray Bitch assumedly off to wherever Pig Man and Bird were and Tommy into the vents to take shelter until they either fixed the engines or crash landed somewhere. He hoped it was the former.

As he wormed through the passage, he decided something.

Against the part of his brain still screaming that it was his fault Tommy was in this mess to begin with, Tommy no longer thought of Gray Bitch as his enemy. He couldn’t think of him as just an acquaintance either. Gray Bitch may not be his friend ( yet , a small part of him dared to whisper) but he now had an ally.

And when you’re trapped all alone in an alien spaceship millions of miles from home, that has to count for something, right?

Chapter Text

Wilbur was running.

Not very well, of course, seeing as the ship was still shaking and swooping erratically through the cosmos, but despite the occasional stumble, he continued moving past flashing corridors and blaring alarms to the bridge of the ship.

As the door slid open, Wilbur was met with the sight of his other crewmates already strapped into their seats. Techno’s hulking figure was manning the flight controls, muscled arms straining under pale pink fur as he fought to keep the ship’s path stable. Phil’s wings were puffed up behind him, the obsidian feathers frizzed in obvious stress as the avian’s clawed hands roamed over the display panels. Upon seeing his entrance, Phil’s scowled face loosened in slight relief.

“Wilbur! I need you to get on the coms and find a place to land and fast!” Phil’s words, despite his panic, were sure and commanding. 

“What’s happening?” Wilbur asked, even as he tumbled into his seat. With one hand he strapped himself down while the other brought up the map display of the ship’s coordinates. “I was just in the kitchen and the whole ship went fucked.”

Phil’s claws clattered against the metal of the ship as he brought up system reports. “I don’t know exactly. The engine must have been more damaged from the asteroid collision than we realized. I’m trying to isolate the damaged systems, but our power is draining.” He glanced at Wilbur. “If we don’t land soon, we’ll be stuck out here.”

Wilbur felt a chill go down his spine at the thought of the crew stranded in the cold expanse of space, slowly floating forever in the icy darkness. Examining the map, the phantom suddenly slumped in relief. “We’re near the X-009 system. If we maintain our current speed, we’ll be there in less than an hour.”

“Techno, do you think you’ll be able to hold us that long?”

The piglin flashed a wild grin, tusks curling up underneath eyes bright with adrenaline. “Don’t worry about me, old man. Just try to keep the ship from blowing up anymore than it already has.”

Hearing Phil’s squawk of indignance, Wilbur smiled to himself as he began to broadcast their emergency beacon.

The trip to the X-009 system was… surprisingly boring, in Wilbur’s opinion. After radioing the planet X-009c (nicknamed The Hive) with requests for an emergency docking, the phantom had spent the rest of the flight helping Phil with diagnostics.

This, unfortunately, left plenty of time for Wilbur’s mind to wander to the human. He hoped that he was safe somewhere in the vents. Though the human had already proven himself to be quite resourceful and able to take care of himself, it must be frightening to have no idea what was happening to the ship he was an unwilling passenger of. Techno had been keeping their flight remarkably stable considering the state of the SBI, but the ship still lurched and swooped occasionally, the crew’s stomachs mimicking the actions. Once again, Wilbur felt that familiar stab of guilt pierce through him. 

Despite the harrowing circumstances, the SBI made an unremarkable landing at one of The Hive’s many port cities. From the bridge’s window, Wilbur could see the tan colored buildings of the city surrounding them, and even further beyond, rolling hills of green and color.

As soon as they touched down, Phil slumped in his chair, blonde hair flowing over the back of it in a frizzed waterfall. His wings hung lifelessly from his back, and with his eyes still closed he muttered “I might actually have years taken off my life from that.”

Wilbur snickered. “Oh no! Not when you have so few left!”

Phil cracked one eye open in a glare. “I’m barely older than you, you little shit! Go take Techno and find us a mechanic before I throw you into the reactor.”

Techno, who had been listening in silent amusement for the entire exchange, suddenly spoke up. “Why do I have to be the one to babysit him? Can’t he get a mechanic on his own?”

“We all know what happened the last time we sent Wil off on a mission on an unfamiliar planet.”

Ignoring Wilbur's spluttering protests (“I didn’t know the Ender was a fleet officer! And he started it too-”), the avian ushered them out the door with a few sweeps of his obsidian wings. “I’m sure you’ll be able to find someone that can work on the ship. In the meantime, I’m going to run a few more system tests and then I’ll be out to get some supplies.” He flashed a taloned wave as the door slid closed behind them.

The two blinked at each other.

"Welp. Guess we have to find a mechanic." Techno's low rumble echoed in the quiet corridor.

Wilbur nodded, and the two strode off through the twisting passages of the SBI and out into the glaring heat of the Hive sunshine.

The port city was bustling with people. Apiisian vendor stalls lined the spaces between terracotta buildings, filled with brightly dyed fabrics and woven goods that their winged makers were selling. Plants hung from decorated baskets swinging in shop doorways, and as Wilbur inhaled, the warm air sweet with the scent of blossoms and earth filled his chest.

As they walked, Wilbur was dazzled by how colorful everything was. Even the technology here seemed to glow with bright hues. And it was loud. Everywhere they looked people were talking and laughing, their rapid words spoken in Apiisian but so full of merriment that Wilbur didn't need a translation to share their joy. Techno had to pull him away from stalls a few times, grunting that they still needed to find someone to fix the ship, but Wilbur could see the way his eyes too strayed to the vibrant weavings and fragrant street food. Each time, the phantom complained but reluctantly continued the search.

They walked for miles, traversing the winding city streets through the bustling crowds, until Techno grabbed Wilbur's wrist and pointed down a shadowed side street. At the very end of it, tucked in the small alley space before the dead end, glowed a grimy neon sign that simply read 'mechanic.' The E was flickering.

Wilbur raised his eyebrows, giving the piglin what he hoped was his best are you kidding me look, but Techno simply shrugged and began walking towards the alley and Wilbur scrambled to follow him.

A metal chime sounded as they walked through the door. It was a small shop, the space seeming even more claustrophobic due to the sheer amount of clutter everywhere. Scraps of metal and wires covered nearly every surface, including the floor. Half built machines sat on dirt covered shelves, and even the counter in the back was buried under screws and tools. As the two made their way further into the room, a muffled voice called from somewhere in front of them, and Wilbur noticed a door leading Prime knows where tucked in the corner. 

"I'll be with you in just a minute- OH MOTHERFU-"

No sooner had the words reached them than a loud crashing noise echoed through the shop. More smaller crashes interspersed with muffled curses followed soon after in rapid succession, and Wilbur once again gave Techno a pointed look.

Before he could suggest just leaving and taking their chances with Phil's amateur knowledge of engine repair, the door flew open and the source of the voice was revealed.

An Apiis stumbled through the door in front of them, one pair of hands fidgeting with the goggles resting in front of his antenna while the other two tried to pat out a smoldering patch on the sleeve of his oil smudged shirt. Tucked into the different pockets of a pair of half buttoned overalls were various wrenches, screwdrivers, hammers, knives, and other tools that Wilbur didn't have a clue the use for.

Brushing himself off, the Apiis slammed his four hands down on the counter and flashed them a grin. "Sorry 'bout that! What can I do for you?"

Technoblade's ear twitched. Most people unfamiliar with piglins tended to cower under his attention, but the Apiis' expression remained unaffected as Techno took a step forward. "We're looking for someone who knows how to fix ship engines. We had a collision a while back with an asteroid and it seems like our repair job was insufficient."

Wilbur studied the Apiis' face with worry. Repairing an imperial standard cargo ship was a long way from fixing broken light bulbs and the occasional microwave, but if anything the other's grin only grew.

Cracking the knuckles on all four of his hands, the Apiis sauntered out from behind the counter. "Well then. Lead the way, boss man. Oh," he added as the two of them turned towards the door. "My name's Tubbo, by the way."

Chapter Text

Techno could tell that Wilbur felt uncertain about their new companion’s proficiency in ship repairs, but as far as he was concerned, the Apiis looked to be just fine. Despite his awkward introduction, the mechanic held himself with an air of unconcerned confidence. As they walked, Techno could hear him humming a tune under his breath while one of his hands fiddled with a wrench that he had pulled out of one of his seemingly endless pockets.

There was also the fact that he seemed completely unbothered by Techno’s presence. Most of the time, piglins were frightening to other species. Their reputation for fierce warriors and brutal clan rituals was enough to make others cower away at the mere sight of him near. Some tried to hide the movement, acting undisturbed, but Techno could see their fear in the widening of their eyes, a twitch of their tails or ears, and the way they seemed to shrink as though trying to make themselves less noticeable to him. Others didn’t even make an attempt to disguise their mistrust of him, running away if he even breathed in their direction. He had long since made peace with this fact, but he would be lying if he said the Apiis’ lack of reaction wasn’t intriguing. 

Wilbur rushed off as soon as they reboarded the SBI, mumbling about having to check on something and hurrying away in the direction of the kitchen and storage areas. Techno wasn’t phased by having to explain their mechanical failures alone; he knew enough about what was happening to the ship to show Tubbo by himself, but he was concerned about Wilbur.

The phantom had been acting off for days, running off to do secret projects and prowling the ship at odd hours. From the dark bags decorating the undersides of his eyes, the piglin could tell that he wasn’t sleeping. Techno had also caught him more than once peering around corners and behind furniture as though expecting someone to jump out and scare him. When asked about it, Wilbur said he was fine and that he just had a lot on his mind, but Techno could tell something else was up. Then there were the missing knives that Wilbur had taken out of the kitchen, stating that he was working on a way to reinforce them to keep them from getting dulled by use. Phil had taken the excuse at face value, but Techno was still suspicious. The phantom was hiding something, and Technoblade was determined to figure out what.

Wilbur’s jumpy behavior wasn’t the only thing on Techno’s mind, however. The Smell, as he had taken to referring to it in his head, was now a constant on the ship. Techno had spent hours scouring the SBI, searching for the source of the mysterious scent. It wasn’t a bad smell necessarily, but it was strange and foreign and as head of security it was his job to investigate things that felt off about the ship. So far, neither Wilbur nor Phil had mentioned The Smell, so he figured it must be only noticeable to Techno’s piglin snout with its enhanced sense of smell. Its faint persistence permeated through the ship, tangling with the scents of his crew until they were almost indistinguishable. 

Almost.

The piglin had a theory about how The Smell was spreading, which is why, after showing Tubbo the engine and explaining their previous repair work (which gained a few unimpressed eyebrow raises that Techno interpreted as you did a shit job of it ), Techno stopped him before he could turn and get to work.

“Actually, could you do something else afterwards?”

At the Apiis’ prompting look, he continued. “Could you take a look inside the ship’s air vents? I’ve been noticing an… unfamiliar scent in the ship and I think it might be coming from the vents. I would have crawled into them myself, but I’m not exactly built for it.” He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, inclining his head at the large difference in their heights.

Tubbo gave him a flat look. “I don’t do dead animal removal, boss man. I’m just a mechanic.”

Techno shook his head. “No, it doesn’t smell like something dead. It’s just unfamiliar, and I’m worried about what it is.”

“So you saw the first short guy and decided to make him crawl in there instead?”

Techno’s face quirked into a small smile at Tubbo’s amusement. “That, and the fact that I’m worried something might be leaking somewhere. If you find anything, I figured you could just fix it. We’d pay you either way.”

The Apiis thought it over for a moment, again fiddling with his tools (which Techno suspected is an unconscious habit), before nodding resolutely. “As long as I’m getting paid, then sure.”

The repairs went smoothly. Tubbo had to go back to his shop for a few parts, returning after an hour with arms full of metal and wires. During this time, Techno went to find Wilbur, discovering the phantom in his workshop scribbling furiously in one of his notebooks. He said nothing of what he was working on, just asking Techno questions about the engine and how long Tubbo was going to take. Techno was once again reminded of the phantom’s weird behavior, but decided not to push the issue. He had to focus on the repairs. Even so, he made a mental note to tell Phil to ask him about it later. Despite his unaffected and monotone demeanor, he cared a lot about his crewmates, and seeing Wilbur acting so strangely left his chest aching with concern.

Tubbo worked quickly, fixing the busted engine in a matter of hours. Techno watched for most of it, occasionally handing the other tools and parts, but mostly standing back and listening to the Apiis talk about what he was doing. The piglin found himself enjoying the company. Tubbo was incredibly smart, as demonstrated by his thorough explanations of engine mechanics and repair techniques, but he was also quick to crack jokes and snap back at Techno’s dry banter. Time seemed to fly by, until Tubbo dusted off his hands and pocketed the screwdriver he had been holding.

Climbing down from the main engine body with a few quick flaps of his translucent wings, Tubbo flashed him a grin. “That should be it for the engine. Do you want me to take a look at the air ducts now?”

Techno rumbled in agreement, and the two set off toward the main corridor. Techno steered them to the vent cover, removing it so that they could peer into the dark opening. Taking a deep breath, he could smell the strange scent drifting lazily out of the hollow tunnel.

Turning to look down at Tubbo, he could see the other’s gaze still fixed on the inside of the vent. “This is it. I’ll be right out here, so if you need anything, just say.”

Without taking his eyes off the vent, the Apiis muttered a “Will do,” and climbed inside. Techno listened to the steady thump of the other’s limbs against the metal until it faded away down into the depths of the ship.

Resigning himself to waiting, the piglin walked to the other side of the corridor and leaned back against the metal paneling. Now that Tubbo was gone, he realized just how tired he was. His limbs felt heavy, and his eyelids drooped against the harsh fluorescent lighting. Still, he found that satisfaction flowed through him. The engine was fixed (properly this time), and soon the source of the puzzling Smell would be found.

He was just reflecting on his surprise that everything was going according to plan when, from far inside the vents, Tubbo began to scream.

Chapter Text

Tommy had a spoon. A spoon that he was now brandishing as a weapon against the creature that had invaded his base.

Admittedly, a spoon was not the most terrifying or even effective weapon that he could have chosen, but given that he had just been asleep, he figured he couldn't be blamed for his lackluster defense.

Based on the way his winged, four armed intruder was screeching and practically flailing as he ran to escape him, it seemed like the spoon was intimidating, thank you very much.

Here he was, minding his own business getting some much needed rest after the frankly harrowing ordeal of having the ship he's stuck on break, when all of a sudden some bee bitch practically falls on top of him and starts freaking the fuck out. Honestly, what happened to 'good morning' or at least a 'hello?'

Bastard.

The alien in question was right ahead of him, translucent wings beating against the metal of the vent in a feeble attempt at propelling himself faster. Despite being smaller than Tommy, the alien was panicking too much to move effectively in the tight space. He was making an awful sort of screeching, like a human voice overlaid with a strange sort of buzzing. 

Tommy, on the other hand, had had ample time to get adjusted to moving in the vents. And he was also just about fed up with aliens thinking they could just do whatever they wanted to him. Invading his base was just the last straw.

Hence, the spoon.

"GET BACK HERE, YOU BITCH! IF YOU THINK YOU CAN JUST WALTZ IN HERE LIKE YOU OWN THE PLACE, YOU HAVE ANOTHER THING COMING! THE THING BEING MY SPOON OF DEATH! I AM THE BIGGEST MAN AND I'M NOT FUCKING SCARED OF YOU!"

…Maybe screaming threats at the bee alien wasn't his best idea.

The alien rounded a corner, slamming against the wall in his frantic scrambling to turn, and Tommy realized too late where this particular tunnel led as he tumbled out of the now uncovered vent opening after him.

The bee alien immediately scrambled upright, still making the buzzing screech noise, and flew to hide behind a solid mass of muscle that Tommy only recognized as Pig Man when the pink alien let out a roar of surprise.

The human felt the blood drain from his face. He stared up at Pig Man. Pig Man stared down at him. Bee Boy was also staring at him, hiding behind Pig Man's torso.

Everything was still for one second.

Two.

Then Pig Man seemed to snap out of his surprised daze and let out another roar, this time one of unmistakable fury. Tommy didn't wait another second before letting out a decidedly not manly scream of his own and taking off down the corridor.

He could make out the sound of the two aliens giving chase past the rushing of blood in his ears. Pig Man’s footfalls echoed against the metal of the ship, the sound matching the terrified beating of Tommy’s heart as he bolted down the passageways.

From somewhere down the corridor, Bee Boy let out another buzzed screech, and Tommy felt a chilled horror rush through his body as Pig Man’s answering snarl sounded close behind him. The one advantage the human had was speed, because while Pig Man seemed insanely strong, his bulk appeared to slow him down considerably, and Tommy realized his only hope was to put as much distance between them as possible.

For a short while, that looked to be working. Pig Man and Bee drew further and further behind, their yells decreasing in volume the longer the human evaded them. 

Even so, he couldn’t keep that up forever.

With a sinking sense of dread, Tommy realized that his limbs were growing tired. His chest burned with each gasping breath, lungs pitifully attempting to draw in enough air with each desperate pant. 

A part of his brain was irrationally reflecting on how ironically familiar being chased by an alien was when he slammed straight into something squishy and tumbled to the floor, taking the obstacle down with him. The impact knocked the wind out of him with a strangled ‘oof,’ and he thrashed wildly in an attempt to untangle his limbs from the unexpected roadblock.

Pushing himself up onto his knees and elbows, he was met with the wide eyed stare of none other than Gray Bitch. The other had just enough time to tilt his head and let out a questioning (and slightly alarmed) chirp when another roar rattled its way through the passageway and Pig Man appeared at the end of the corridor, chest heaving with the effort of his breath and teeth bared in outrage. Bee followed close behind. With a horrified glance at his surroundings, Tommy realized they were blocking the only way out of this passageway.

They both froze when they saw the pair on the floor, catching their breath but not advancing any further. Gray Bitch, seemingly grasping the situation, scrambled to his feet with a series of fast chirps and hisses, stepping toward the pair of aliens now blocking Tommy’s only exit. 

Heart just about breaking his ribs in a valiant effort to escape his chest, Tommy crawled backward until his back was pressed against the cool metal of the wall. His eyes darted from Gray Bitch to Pig Man and Bee, terror still simmering below his skin like lava pooling in his veins. He wished he still had his spoon; he had dropped it during the chase.

Pig man took a step forward, ignoring the whimper that forced its way out of Tommy’s throat, and let out another grumbling snarl. Gray Bitch glanced behind him, his four eyed stare fixed on the human cowering on the floor, and took his own step toward Pig Man with an answering warble of his own.

Apparently, whatever he had said didn’t make Pig Man particularly happy, because the towering alien let out an even louder grunting growl noise that grated against Tommy’s ears. Gray Bitch took another step toward the pair, pointing with an angry sounding chirp at Bee, who stepped forward with a buzz and a twitch of his antenna. Gray Bitch let out another chirp, again wheeling to face Pig Man, who bared his teeth.

The two of them began speaking rapidly, talking over one another in a whirl of angry clicks, roars, chirps, hisses, and other noises that Tommy didn’t think humans had the capacity to replicate. Gray Bitch waved his arms through the air, claws catching the harsh lighting of the passage, while Pig Man stood mostly still, occasionally flicking his ears or baring his teeth in rage. Even Bee was getting agitated; though his focus was more so on Tommy in the beginning than the argument happening right in front of him, he also appeared to be annoyed with what Gray Bitch was saying, and gradually his focus was drawn too.

Tommy furrowed his brows. Despite his overwhelming fear, he felt a little annoyed that not a single one of them was paying him any attention, too focused on their weird alien squabble to spare him a glance. They probably wouldn’t even notice if he got up and left!

…

Wait.

Slowly raising himself onto shaking legs, Tommy began inching his way closer to the three aliens blocking the corridor. They made no move toward him, continuing to yell and warble in increasingly louder voices. Soon they were close enough to reach if he really stretched out his hand, and he knew it was now or never.

Ducking swiftly under Gray Bitch’s flailing arm, he again made a break for it down the metal hallway, wincing at the three alarm calls that followed him. He had hoped that they wouldn’t notice for a moment or two, giving him a bit more of a head start. But it seemed he wasn’t that lucky.

Skidding around a corner, he came to a larger room filled with couches and chairs with several other corridors branching away from it. He hesitated for only a second, brain blanking as he tried to decide which way to go, but apparently that’s all the others needed. 

Something large and squishy slammed into his back, knocking him to the floor in a hissing pile of limbs, and Tommy got a hysterical sense of deja vu as he realized it was Gray Bitch. The alien was chirping rapidly, grabbing the human’s arm with a firm grip.

Rage filled him. Gray Bitch was supposed to be on his side. The other had kept him hidden from the other aliens for so long, and had never laid a hand on him before other than when they first met, and now he suddenly was turning on him?

Well, two could play that game. If Gray Bitch was gonna finally act like his captor, then Tommy wasn’t going to make it easy for him. Twisting around, the human’s teeth flashed for a split second as he sunk them into the gray skinned alien’s wrist.

Gray Bitch let go with a screech, having the nerve to look offended.

Bitch .

Springing to his feet, Tommy clenched his fists as he cast his eyes around the room and saw that Pig Man and Bee had blocked the other corridors. He was trapped, and the one friend he thought he had in the entire fucking universe (literally) had betrayed him.

Grief and anger welled in his throat. He was going to be killed or experimented on or worse, and no one would ever know. It hit him then, just how lonely it was in space. He was surrounded by creatures, obviously sentient and intelligent creatures, and yet he felt more alone than if he was the only one on this stupid fucking ship.

The emotions overflowed, and he opened his mouth in a wail of fury. “I HATE YOU! I HATE ALL OF YOU! I DIDN’T ASK TO BE HERE! IT’S NOT EVEN MY FAULT THAT I AM! I JUST WANT TO GO HOME!” He paused for breath, glaring daggers into Pig Man’s face. The pink alien was examining him with a look he couldn’t decipher, but he found that he really didn’t care. The rain was back, tracking the droplets falling down his cheeks as he stared down his would-be executioner. “I just want to go home…” His voice cracked on the last syllable.

Gray Bitch let out a strangled warble behind him, but Tommy kept his eyes on Pig Man. It seemed like whatever his fate would be, it was going to be decided by him. 

Pig Man blinked, taking a step toward him, and Tommy forced himself not to flinch. Before the other could make another move closer, however, the sound of frantic talons echoing down one of the corridors made all of them take pause. It was only second before the frazzled shape of Bird came barreling into the room with a loud squawk. His beady black eyes scanned the room, squinting briefly at Bee before his wide gaze settled on Tommy.

Tommy glared at him, meeting his eyes the same way he had Pig Man. The other had a look of intenseness about him, his wings poised above his head and his talons scratching the metal of the floor as he flexed them.

He was distracted. Tommy only realized his error when Bird’s dark stare flickered away from him for a moment, the only warning before he was again tackled. This time, fur grazed his arms as his hands were forced behind his back. Cold metal tightened around his wrists, pinning them as he spit out a string of loud curses. He pulled at the cuffs, squirming in their tight hold until a growl sounded from directly next to his ear.

Accepting that his defiance was only going to get him killed faster and reluctantly going limp, he now turned his gaze to Gray Bitch, who had been quietly chirping during his struggles. He couldn’t figure out why the alien looked so unhappy. Wasn’t this what he had wanted? He had caught him; he was their prisoner. He expected a gloating look to be plastered onto the alien's four-eyed face, or maybe satisfaction at the very least.

Why, when he peered into his eyes, did he only see sadness?

Chapter Text

The human was taken to one of the empty storage rooms, baring his teeth at anyone who came too close. The one exception was Techno, as the piglin had kept a tight hold on his cuffed arms as they walked in uncomfortable silence.

Once, Wilbur had tried to talk to him, but warning glances from both Techno and Phil stopped the words in their tracks. The human didn’t even spare him a glance. Instead, Wilbur was left to stew in the emotions brewing in his lungs, guilt wrapping itself around them until he found himself barely able to stand breathing. 

After the door had slid shut and the human was at last obscured from view once again, the others finally forced their attention onto him, making Wilbur cringe back from their searching looks.

Phil stepped forward and put one taloned hand on his shoulder, the glowing heart pendant resting against his chest illuminating furrowed brows and pinched lips. “I think this warrants an explanation, mate.” The words, while not spoken unkindly, were firm, and Wilbur winced as he was reminded that Phil was his captain as well as his friend.

Letting out a sigh, the phantom put his claws up to his head, resting his face in his palms. “I know. I know you all deserve some answers, but I just don’t know-”

“Don’t know what, Wil? Don’t know how, or don’t know what words to use? Well you had better figure it out.” Wilbur snapped his eyes to Techno, shocked at the explosion of harsh words, but Techno cut him off before he could say anything in return. The piglin’s eyes were burning with something barely indecipherable. “No, don’t even try it. Do you know how worried I’ve been!? You’ve been acting strange for so long, and now we find out it’s because you were hiding a dangerous animal in the ship? And you defended it when it attacked someone!?”

Wilbur blurted out the words before he could stop himself. “But he’s not dangerous!”

Techno raised his eyebrows, ears flicking. “ It is a human. The entire reason Terra is off limits is because they’re too unstable to interact with. It snuck onto the ship for Prime’s sake!”

“That’s not what happened!”

Techno ground his teeth with a huff. “Oh yeah? Then, by all means, enlighten us.”

“Alright, let’s calm down, yeah?” Phil's dark wings made a slow sweeping motion, as if the tension permeating the air was physical and he could brush it away. “Why don’t we go sit in the living area? And you…” The avian turned to the Apiis who was currently standing off to the side, hands twiddling and fidgeting with a wrench he had pulled out from somewhere. The captain squinted. “...Who are you?”

The Apiis, whose name was Tubbo, Wilbur remembered, jumped a bit at being addressed. Wilbur noticed that his encounter with the human had rattled him; he had lost some of his nonchalant attitude. “I’m Tubbo. I’m just a mechanic.” 

“The human attacked him.” Wilbur frowned at Techno’s words, giving the piglin a sideways glare.

Phil pinched the bridge of his nose, the feathers framing the sides of his face flexing. “Okay, living area. Now.”

Despite being large enough to fit several couches and chairs, the living area had never felt so claustrophobic. Wilbur and Tubbo had all but collapsed into the plush seats, while Phil and Techno preferred to stay standing, the latter leaning against the wall with his arms crossed and a tight look gracing his tusked face.

The phantom’s claws dug into his arms, leaving small indents behind. He risked a peak at Phil, but the other just tilted his head, urging him to talk.

He didn’t even know where to start.

But, like most stories, he figured that the very beginning would be as good a place as any. He cleared his throat.

“So… Do you remember when you and Techno went to fix the engines on Terra and left me in the bridge room…”

He went through every detail of the past few weeks, recounting his first meeting with the human, treating his injuries, the golden apples, the guitar, and how he had been secretly meeting with him in the kitchens. All of his confusion, wonder, and guilt poured out of him, the others letting him speak without interruption as he spilled the secret that had been eating away at him.

As he talked, he kept his gaze pointedly fixed on the floor, afraid of what he would see if he happened to look up at the faces of his crew. Logically, he knew that they would be mad (because of course they would, he deserved it), but a small part of him was tying itself into knots wondering just how mad they were. 

Would they demote him? Or worse, kick him off at the next residential planet and fly off without him?

“So that brings us to today. I was with him again, in the kitchens, and when the engine blew again it threw us to the ground. It was absolute mayhem; things were flying everywhere and I-I started freaking out.” He paused, fighting against the memory of terror. “The noises and the shaking reminded me of- well, some bad shit, and next thing I know I’m under the shelves in the storage room with the human.”

Techno spoke up then. “It trapped you with it?”

Wilbur waved his hands in denial. “No, no, I wasn’t trapped. He was helping me. He calmed me down from panicking. Then I got Phil’s call and came to the bridge and, well, you know everything else.”

“So the human just let you go? It didn’t try to stop you?” It was Phil’s question this time.

“No… Actually, I made him leave.” Wilbur remembered the flash of understanding in the human’s bright blue eyes as he followed Wilbur’s instructions. “I wanted him to find a safe place. I knew he’d been living in the vents, so I told him to go.”

“And the human… understood you?” Techno’s low rumble was laced with disbelief.

Wilbur made a face. “Not exactly, but enough to figure out what I wanted him to do.” Rubbing his hands down the tops of his thighs, the phantom clicked his tongue. “Right, well, you all know my side of the story. What I want to know, though, is how you -” he gestured to the Apiis sitting on the other end of the couch. “-managed to somehow provoke him into attacking you.”

The Apiis spluttered indignantly. “What- I- I didn’t provoke him into anything!” His antenna twitched, and he frowned. “Well… actually that might not be entirely true.”

“Go on, mate,” Phil prompted when Tubbo paused. 

At the captain’s reassurance, the Apiis continued. “After I fixed the faulty engine, Techno asked me to investigate the air ducts because he thought something might be wrong with them. A leak or something.”

Phil shot a questioning look at Techno, who shrugged. “I smelled the human, though I didn’t realize that’s what it was at the time. I just knew something foreign was on the ship, and the scent trails all pointed to the vents.” 

Tubbo nodded. “Right. So I went to have a look, and just as I reached the Alpha 3 junction, I turned the corner and practically crawled over the human.” He shuddered, the wrench somehow appearing back in two of his hands. “I screamed, naturally, and the sound woke him up. I think he was a bit dazed, but he chased me out of the vents. He was making a lot of noise.” He wrinkled his nose.

Wilbur frowned. “You scared him.”

The Apiis gave him an incredulous look from his spot at the end of the couch. “Yeah, okay, but he also scared me .”

Wilbur cringed. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to accuse you. I just meant that he probably wouldn’t have had that big of a reaction if he wasn’t startled.” He flexed his claws. “It might have also been a territorial response.”

Techno snarled. “ Or it could have just waited for an excuse to attack an unsuspecting, smaller victim. The point is, it’s dangerous, and we should turn it in to the Server Council at our first opportunity.” That last part was directed at Phil, who had a pinched look on his feathered face.

Wilbur paled. “No! We can’t do that to him!” 

If the human was taken by the council, it was almost a certainty that he would never see the Terran sun again. Or any sun, for that matter. His stomach twisted, acid creeping up his throat, and he shoved the thought out of his head.

Sensing his distress, Phil sighed. “Look, let’s all take a few hours to calm down and get our tempers under control. We can reconvene and decide what to do with the human then.”

Tubbo clasped his four hands in front of him, leaning towards the others. “If I may speak, Captain…” Phil inclined his head, and the Apiis grinned. Through his anxiety, Wilbur felt a stab of relief at seeing that the Apiis seemed to have recovered a bit of his earlier spirit. “I think I might have an idea that could help this situation.”

Before Phil could answer, Wilbur eagerly chirped. “What is it?”

Adjusting his goggles and still grinning, Tubbo proceeded. “I have a friend who studies Interspecies Culture, Customs, and Language. I think he had a course about Terra a few years ago.”

Understanding dawned on Wilbur, and looking around at his crewmates he could tell that they had also come to the same conclusion.

“So. You think this friend could somehow reason with the human?” Techno rumbled.

Tubbo nodded at the piglin, then turned again to face Phil. “The only downside would be that another person would find out about him. It’s your call.”

Phil’s talons clacked against the floor, echoing through the room as the Avian mulled it over. Finally, a resolute expression fixed itself upon his face, and Wilbur felt hope flood his chest. “Alright. You may contact your friend, but only if you both maintain absolute secrecy about the situation. If there’s a chance of somehow forming some sort of communication with the human, I think it’s only fair to give it a try.”

Wilbur sneaked a peek at Techno, but the piglin kept his face neutral, only inclining his head to acknowledge Phil’s decision. The only sign that he disproved was a single lash of his tufted tail.

Tubbo rummaged in his pockets, pulling out various tools (seriously, how did he fit that many in there??) as he searched for something in particular. He let out a small “Aha!” as one of his hands pulled a dull black box out of the denim. Wilbur recognized it as a communicator.

The Apiis pressed a few buttons, holding the device up to his face. 

“ Hello? ”

The voice that came from the communicator was deep and rich despite the poor audio quality. Even so, there was a strange undertone to it, and Wilbur’s mind conjured images of ice and darkness and empty space.

Tubbo grinned impossibly wider. “Hey, Boo. Two questions: One, are you busy?”

“ Uh, not particularly. I’m on break right now for Ch’yll. ”

Tubbo clapped his bottom two hands together, and Wilbur swore he saw a glint of something mischievous in his golden-brown gaze. “Great! Second question: Can you keep a secret?”

Chapter Text

The cuffs hurt his wrists.

Pulling on them had only served to bruise the pale skin underneath, and he had even started to chafe in the places where the slowly warming metal gripped.

He had long ceased trying to get out. The room that he'd been forced into was small, with no large vents or doors other than the one covering the entrance. The door had no handle or outward lock, though Tommy doubted if he would be able to open it if it had anyway.

Terror and rage still simmered inside him, but with the echoing voices of his captors long since faded away, dread was slowly filling the remaining space.

It was over. He was over; captured and alone.

Angry tears welled in his eyes, dripping with a small tapping noise onto the cold floor. It wasn't fair. None of this was fair. He was millions of miles from home, alone in a cell with his jailers probably discussing the best way to kill him.

And to add insult to the fucking injury, Gray Bitch had stabbed him in the back and betrayed him. Gray Bitch, the alien that had kept him hidden. Gray Bitch, who Tommy had hated and then came to see as an almost-friend.

Gray Bitch, the four eyed shit who kidnapped me in the first place , Tommy reminded himself angrily. And yet he couldn't ignore how much it hurt to remember how the gray skinned alien used to look at him from his perch on the counter as he watched him scavenge for food. Something almost akin to fondness gleaming from four cloudy blue eyes.

Sliding to the floor, he leaned back as much as his bound arms would allow and felt the cool metal of the wall panels contrast the feeling of tears slipping down his cheeks.

He didn't know how long he'd been sitting there, head hanging and brain churning through his unpleasant thoughts when a small whooshing sound came from a space to his right.

Jumping slightly, he whipped his head toward the door and saw that a small opening had formed in its smooth surface, and a piece of bread was dropped through.

Rushing to his feet (which was not easy with the cuffs restricting his movements), he had just enough time to get a glimpse of obsidian feathers when the small door slid shut and he was again alone.

Blinking in the restored dim lighting of the room, Tommy glanced down at the bread as it laid at the base of the door. It was the same bread that he’d been stealing from the ship’s stores, grainy and slightly sweet.

He might have been more grateful for it if his hands were free to actually eat it. Huffing, Tommy turned away from the bread and repositioned himself back against the wall. His one solace from Bird’s actions was that they planned to at least keep him alive long enough for him to need feeding. No point wasting food on something you’re just going to kill right after. He grimaced at the train of thought.

He busied himself with other things. He counted as high as he could, timing his breaths with the even numbers until he managed to lose count somewhere around two thousand and gave up. He pictured some of his favorite scenes from Earth. The way the sky would burn itself orange during summer sunsets, the sound of rain against the roof of his house, how the crows in his neighborhood cawed at him as he walked to school. Thinking of crows reminded him of Bird, and he sighed.

Soon, his back cramped from stillness, and he stood up to stretch. It was awkward with his arms forced behind him, but he persisted with the motions, loosening his muscles until they no longer complained. His eyes drooped with fatigue, and yet he shook his head to clear away some of the drowsiness. 

His stomach growled. He didn’t know how long he’d been here already. A few hours maybe? And before that he’d only had a small meal while taking shelter at his base.

He reluctantly looked again at the bread.

After a frankly humiliating amount of struggling, he managed to get it wedged between his knees, which he drew up to his chest as he again rested against the wall. Leaning forward, he took a bite, then another and another until the entire chunk was gone and his belly was quiet in satisfaction.

Eating had only served to make him sleepier, and he slumped defeatedly against his legs, uncaring of the numerous crumbs clinging to the fabric of his pants. Grudgingly, he let the soft pull of darkness draw him away from the waking world and into fitful rest.

What woke him next was not some disastrous ship malfunction or Bee bastard invasion. It was the sound of the door sliding open and heavy footsteps making their way into the small room. 

Instantly, any lingering tiredness melted away and an intense alertness took its place. He snapped his head up, meeting the cold stare of Pig Man over his knees. The other stood in the doorway, pink and muscled arms crossed over his chest and a snarl etched into his face.

Tommy remained frozen in place, acutely aware of how vulnerable he was. Pig Man’s snout twitched, and he let out a rumbling string of grunts. When Tommy continued to just stare, the pink alien let out an angry sounding bark, moving further into the room toward the cowering human.

“H-hey! Stay back!” Tommy could feel his chest tighten with a curling dread.

Pig Man ignored his plea, instead strutting across the room and grabbing Tommy’s arm with a firm (but surprisingly gentle) grip, pulling the human to his feet. He let out a hiss when the motion pressed against the sore skin of his wrists, the flick of Pig Man’s ears the only indication that the other had noticed.

The pink alien let out another barked noise, leading him out of the room and into the blinding glare of the corridor. Thankfully, he stopped moving them until Tommy could open his eyes without blinking, huffing as he waited for the human’s eyes to adjust to the change in lighting.

When Tommy was no longer blind Pig Man gave him a small shove, and the pair began the trek through the ship toward wherever the fuck the alien was leading him.

The alien didn’t speak during the trip, the only sounds were the echoing of their footsteps on the metal and Pig Man’s huffing breaths from behind him. Tommy stayed quiet as well, caught between fear of provoking the other and a pettiness to keep up the silent treatment.

Despite living on the ship for weeks at this point, Tommy was still disoriented by the maze of corridors. They walked for minutes, taking twists and turns until Tommy almost felt dizzy. After passing what he thought was the same junction twice, he started to suspect that Pig Man was deliberately taking the longest and most confusing route to where they were going. He couldn’t decide whether that was good for his chances of survival.

Finally, Pig Man directed him toward a door, scanning it with one… hand? Hoof? Claw? Tommy didn’t know how to describe it exactly, but he figured that wasn’t the most important thing he needed to focus on.

He didn’t know what he was expecting to be on the other side of the door. Perhaps a dungeon, or another cell. Somewhere to keep a prisoner. When the metal slab had slid out of the way, he peered in and saw that instead, there was a regular looking room.

Two benches lined the sides of the room, and taking up space at the far end of the wall was an empty bookshelf. Other than the sparse furniture, the room was empty. Pig Man shoved him toward one of the benches, forcing him to sit. Producing a short length of thin chain from a pocket on his belt, the alien clipped one end to his cuffs and wrapped the other around one of the bench’s legs, snapping the links into place so seamlessly that it looked like they had never been separate.

Looking satisfied, Pig Man gave him one last growl and moved to stand by the door. Tommy pulled a bit at the cuffs again, testing the chain, and found that despite its flimsy appearance, the metal had no give. He stopped when Pig Man raised his arm, rumbling something into the communicator device strapped to his wrist. He caught the human’s eye, baring his tusks in obvious disdain but making no move to come closer again.

Tommy fixed his gaze on the floor, trying his best to calm his racing heartbeat. He wouldn't freak out. He wouldn’t cry. He couldn’t give them that satisfaction.

This was it. He would soon know his fate, his sentence at the hands of an extraterrestrial jury. 

He was given a surprisingly short amount of time to ponder his imminent doom, the door once again sliding open after only a few minutes. He let out a choked breath, slowly raising his head to take in his demise. 

His demise… was really underwhelming.

Being ushered into the room by one of Bird’s sweeping wings was a freakishly tall, lanky looking alien with split color skin. One side of him was as dark as the void of space, the other as pale as bleached bones or untouched snow. Heterochromic green and red eyes darted about the room, shining like jewels above gray freckled cheekbones. The alien took a seat on the bench on the far side of the room, a two toned tail flicking up to rest across his legs.

The door slid shut again. Nobody moved.

Tommy decided to break the silence. Facing the new alien head on, he forced the fear off of his face and plastered on a sneer. “And what are you supposed to be, bitch?”

The black and white alien’s face pinched up. “That is… not nice.”

Tommy’s jaw dropped so far open he was surprised it wasn’t touching the floor. The alien’s speech was slow and had an unfamiliar accent, but it was English. The alien could speak English . He floundered for something to say, anything, but found he was at a loss for words.

The other seemed to take his lack of a response negatively. He warbled something in a language Tommy didn’t recognize, exchanging a few words with Pig Man before facing Tommy again. “Uhh, hola ?”

“You can speak English,” he said dumbly, still in shock.

Pig Man snapped his gaze to Tommy, but the other alien’s face brightened. “I can speak this dialect of Human. Yes. Is that its name?” His tail waved.

“How do you know how to speak English?”

The alien made a chirping noise that Tommy took to mean excitement. “I learned it. I am to be a…” He narrowed his eyes. “What is the word…? I learn about other species to have better cooperation with them.”

“An… ambassador? Diplomat?” Tommy still couldn’t believe he wasn’t dead yet, but if talking to this strange alien was delaying that he didn’t mind.

“Yes! I am to be that.” The barest hint of fangs poked out from beneath his lip when he spoke.

Tommy decided he’d had enough of this weird small talk. “What’s going to happen to me? Why am I not dead yet?”

The other winced at the abrupt topic change. “You are not dead because the… captain? Is that the word? He does not wish for you to die. As for what will happen to you… I think that depends on how much you wish for them to die.”

As strange as the phrasing was, Tommy understood the meaning behind the tall alien’s words. If he acted out, he would be labeled a danger.

If he cooperated, he had a chance.

“So… what, did the dickheads get you to come be a mediator or some shit?”

“I am supposed to communicate with you.”

Pig Man interrupted, again exchanging a few low grumbled words with the black and white alien. Tommy watched the interaction with frustration, upset at his lack of comprehension.

“Hey! I’m right here, assholes!”

Both heads whipped toward him, Pig Man snarling a warning at him. The tall alien said a few words very quickly, and Pig Man huffed, settling back against the wall.

The alien across from him wrung his clawed hands in a display of anxiety that even Tommy with his limited knowledge of alien body language could interpret. “Technobade just wanted to know what we were saying. He will not hurt you unless you attack.” The first word was obviously not English, and Tommy supposed it must be Pig Man’s real name.

“The fuck kind of name is Tech-no-blade?” The pink alien’s ears twitched at the sound of his name, and Tommy sent him a glare.

“I… do not know how to answer that.”

“Yeah, ‘cause you’re a bitch and I hate you.”

The alien’s face pinched again. “You are not good at being nice.”

“Oh, really? I didn’t know.” The human’s voice was dripping in scathing sarcasm. “It’s not like I wasn’t kidnapped and put in chains or anything.” He shook his arms, the soft clang of the metal links against the bench leg emphasizing his point. “To be completely honest, I have no wish to exchange niceties with the fuckers who are going to kill me.”

The alien blinked. “They are not going to kill you.”

Pig Man- Technoblade- interrupted again, letting out a soft string of rumbles.

The tall alien’s tail lashed. “Technoblade says ‘Human, do not pull on the chain.’”

Tommy bared his teeth in a crude imitation of the pink alien’s snarl. “My name is Tommy. Not Human.”

“Tommy… it is fitting for you.” The way the alien says his name is strange, the low voice harsh on the first syllable in a way that is undeniably foreign. “My name is-” He made a screeching gasping noise in his throat. “But in Common I am called Ranboo. You may call me that.”

A cawing voice made both Ranboo and Tommy turn toward Technoblade, who held his communicator device to his face and listened to Bird’s message. The alien let out a few grunts in acknowledgement, motioning to Ranboo.

Tommy looked from Technoblade to Ranboo. “What is it? What did he say?”

Ranboo tapped his claws together. “The captain wants to speak with you.”

No sooner had the words left his mouth than the alien himself opened the door, waltzing inside with Gray Bitch and Bee at his heels. Bird motioned with one taloned hand toward Technoblade, and Bee and Gray Bitch moved to settle themselves beside him. Green robes swished against the floor as Bird sat down next to Ranboo and muttered a few chirps into his ear.

Ranboo looked at Tommy. “I am going to translate.”

Bird’s gaze was piercing, beady black eyes fixing Tommy in his chair as effectively as the chain binding him. His voice was even as he addressed the human, warbling and chirping into the air between them.

Despite the fact that it was Ranboo’s dark timbre that relayed the message, Tommy kept his blue eyed stare pointedly on Bird.

“I am Captain Philza of the imperial class cargo ship SBI. What is your intent toward my crew?”

Chapter Text

“I am Captain Philza of the imperial class cargo ship SBI. What is your intent toward my crew?”

Wilbur felt a chill run through him at Phil’s words. The avian’s voice was commanding, hardened by concern and authority and holding none of the fondness that the phantom was used to hearing from the other.

Ranboo relayed the message, tail twitching with poorly concealed tension. The human’s face paled as he stared at Phil even as he sat up straighter to answer. He squeaked out a few words, and Wilbur was impressed at the lack of waver in his response. The human was obviously uncomfortable, and yet he was facing the captain head on.

The ship had sat quiet in the hours since the human’s capture, the only sound in the absence of the engines usual familiar rumble was the hushed voices of the SBI’s other occupants. The lights of the city outside had long since faded, the streets peaceful beyond the hull.

Wilbur had stayed mostly silent, listening to the others with burning shame and guilt. It was all his fault. Everything was his fault. None of this would be happening if he had just sucked it up on Terra and stayed on the ship. He felt the weight of his actions press down on his shoulders, acid rising in his throat as he realized that anything done to the human would be blood on his hands.

Midway through this spiraling realization Tubbo’s friend had arrived, who was so strange that Wilbur was momentarily drawn out of his despair in favor of wondering whomst the fuck was now standing in his living room.

The alien, who was introduced as Ranboo, looked like an Ender- except that half of him was paler than a white dwarf star. Oddly, he was also wearing traditional Apiisian clothing, an ankle length brown skirt embroidered with gold trim billowing under a loose white dress shirt. An excessive amount of jewelry glittered on his person, from the numerous piercings lining his pointed ears, the rings decorating horns that poked out of split colored hair, to gold bracelets that jingled softly when he moved. Wilbur would think he was some sort of royalty if not for the fact that he seemed anxious as fuck, holding none of the grace that would be expected of someone in power.

He had barely been able to introduce himself before Phil had ordered Techno to retrieve the human from the room where they’d stowed him and their small group had been led to one of the studies.

The Ender in question sat before him, tilting his head and taking a moment to translate, before turning to the crew. “Tommy says… um… he says that he doesn’t want anything to do with the crew.”

Techno raised an eyebrow. “You don’t sound confident in that. And is that what it calls itself?”

Ranboo cringed, avoiding the piglin’s piercing glare. “Uh, well, he might have used more rude words than what I said, but the message was the same.” He glanced back at the human again, eyes softening just a bit. “His name is Tommy. He told me.”

Phil held up a talon for silence, then asked “How well can you translate longer sentences?”

“Pretty well. I might be a bit rusty with specific words, but I should be able to get the basics.”

The captain nodded. “Tell him: ‘Please tell us your story. Why are you on my ship?’”

Ranboo looked again to the human, speaking slowly in a rasping squeaking. Wilbur saw the human’s - Tommy’s - lips turn downward in a scowl before he was suddenly met with the creature’s furious gaze. He barked out a few words, narrowing his eyes in rage, and Wilbur felt shame prickle under his skin.

The ender flicked his eyes to Wilbur, shrinking into himself as he listened to the human’s words. When Tommy had at last gone quiet again, he laughed awkwardly into the silence. “Ha, um, that was a particularly colorful string of words, so I’ll skip some of the more unprofessional language. He basically said “why don’t you ask the gray… b word because it’s his fault.” He shrugged apologetically, the motion rattling the strings of gold falling from his ears. “He said the description like a name, so I think that’s what he calls you.”

And oh , that hurt. 

Phil opened his mouth to talk, but Wilbur cut him off. “Wait! Can you… can you tell him I’m sorry?” The warbled plea cracked at the end.

Ranboo looked to Phil for permission, relaying the apology when the avian tipped his head. Tommy didn’t say anything, but the phantom swore he saw a flash of something in the human’s gaze. Just for a single moment before it was whisked away and replaced with disbelief and anger. 

Black feathers puffed and resettled as Phil cleared his throat. “Right. I saw that you were talking before I came into the room. Can you tell me what he said?”

Red and green eyes widened in surprise, but Ranboo nodded. “We didn’t say much. He was caught off guard by the fact that I spoke his language, and I explained that I’m training to be an Interspecies Ambassador. He also seemed to be under the impression that we were about to kill him- he still might think that, by the way; he didn’t seem to believe me when I said you didn’t want him dead- and then he kinda insulted Technoblade. That was pretty much it.”

The piglin’s face contorted into bewildered offense. “Heh? Insulted me? Why?”

“He didn’t like being talked over so he implied your name is stupid.”

Wilbur couldn’t help it; a small snicker escaped him at the piglin’s expression. Techno shot him a scolding look and elbowed him in the side. He noted that Tommy was watching the exchange with masked smugness, though his face soured when he caught Wilbur staring.

Phil’s face feathers fanned out. “That isn’t important right now. Tell him that he is not going to be killed as long as he does not attack anyone. Or, well, attack anyone else ,” he added with a sideways glance at Tubbo.

The Apiis’s face contorted into a conflicted expression, wings twitching. “Tell him I’m sorry, too.” He looked up at Wilbur. “I was thinking about what you said earlier. About us scaring each other. Tell him I’m sorry for that.”

Ranboo blinked, obviously missing some of the context, but turned to relay the message anyway. Tommy was silent for a long moment, blue eyes flicking from Ranboo to Tubbo. Despite not being well versed in human facial expressions, Wilbur could see that he was thinking hard about how to answer. After several tense heartbeats, he looked up with a look of finality and mumbled out a response.

Ranboo looked slightly apprehensive as his heterochromatic eyes met Tubbo’s brown. “He says that he does not regret attacking you, Bo, because he was defending himself. He does however appreciate your apology and promises to not ‘bring out the spoon’s rage’ again.” The ender raised two clawed hands in quotation marks, puzzlement etched into his face.

The Apiis leaned back against the wall in satisfaction, crossing both pairs of arms across his chest. “That’s fair.”

The human interrupted, addressing Phil in a subdued tone. Wilbur couldn’t help but notice how tired he looked, and how small . Deja vu ran him through like one of Techno’s swords as he was struck with the image of the human back on Terra, curled up in a cloak far too big in a lonely night even bigger.

Ranboo sighed, the noise coming out slightly choked. “He… He’s asking if you can take the cuffs off. Since you’re apparently not… killing him.”

Techno bared his tusks. “Are you kidding me? We can’t just let a human run loose in the ship!”

“He won’t be running loose.” Philza’s smooth voice cut the piglin's tirade short. “I allowed you to keep him restrained while he was an active threat to safety, and now that he isn’t, I don’t see the point in continuing that. We will have him monitored at all times until we figure out what to do with him. Now,” black eyes bored into gold. “Release him.”

“Phil, as your Head of Security and also as your friend , I highly suggest you rethink your decision.” The piglin shot a mistrustful glance at Tommy, who was watching the interaction with muted interest.

The avian crossed his arms, doing a remarkable job keeping his face calm despite the tension threatening to suffocate the room. “Why? Give me a good reason to leave him locked up like that any longer than necessary.”

“Why?! Because he’s a bloodthirsty animal! The moment we trust him he’ll stab us in the back, possibly literally!” Techno’s snarling voice echoed in the small space, and his already hulking shape loomed over the room as he took a step forward. “I’m telling you, we’re better off locking him up. Or better yet, putting as much distance between us and him as we can.” He huffed, tail lashing as he caught his breath.

“Give me the key.” Phil’s voice was soft in the silence left behind. The snarl fell from Techno’s face at the tone, the weight of the moment finally making itself known as he wordlessly pulled the key from his pocket and dropped it into the avian’s outstretched talon.

Once he was free, Tommy rubbed his wrists and stared at the assembly, probably wondering what was going to happen now. Wilbur couldn’t blame him; he was wondering the same thing. 

Phil cooed at the human, gently taking him by the arm and leading him to the door, motioning for Ranboo to follow. As he got to it however, he hesitated. “You know, mate?” He was still facing the door, but it was obvious who was being addressed. “They used to tell me the same things about you.”

The click of the door sliding shut had never sounded so loud.

Chapter Text

“What happens now?”

Tommy’s voice broke through the stale air filtering in through the grated vent above their heads. The captain and Ranboo stood before him, their shadows cast side by side on the pale metal floor as they regarded him.

After… whatever had happened in the small room between Pig and Bird, the winged captain had kept a contained expression, mostly content in letting Ranboo make quiet conversation as they trekked down the corridors. He had stayed silent until they came to a quaint room, ushering them inside with a hushed crow and a swish of his talon. 

Ranboo cleared his throat. “This is your room now. You can stay here.”

Tommy raised an eyebrow. “And what if I don’t want to stay here, bitch?” The words, while venomous, lacked his usual heat. The tall alien didn’t seem offended either way.

“I- Um, I don’t think you have a choice, unfortunately.” Red and green eyes glanced sideways at the captain, who remained stoic and simply blinked in recognition of being addressed.

The human wrenched his eyes away from them, moving to sit on the bed, which was the only piece of furniture in the room. Keeping his gaze fixed on the paneling in front of him, he hummed in thought. On one hand, he was even more of a prisoner than before. Yes, running through the vents stealing food was rough, and he desperately wanted to go home again, but at least before he had some semblance of control over what was done to him. 

You also had a friend , a cruel voice cooed in his mind. His throat tightened and he clenched his teeth, forcing the traitorous words away.

On the other hand, he was alive . For how long, ehhh he’d worry about that later. Look on the bright side, and shit. The train of thought was so ridiculous that he huffed out a small chuckle, earning confused looks from his extraterrestrial ensemble.

Before he had time to dwell any longer, Bird straightened himself up, shaking out his wings as though he could rid himself of awkwardness the same as dust. He turned to Ranboo, who listened attentively as he let out a few commanding caws and motioned to the door.

Tommy looked between the two of them helplessly, suddenly dreading the thought of being alone again after finally having a form of communication. Ranboo might be annoying and weird and too fucking tall and one of them - but he was also the closest link to Earth Tommy had found since he’d been in space, and the thought of losing that again was too much. Scrambling toward them, the two toned alien let out a squeak of alarm as Tommy grabbed his arm.

The captain flared his wings in defense, but words were already tumbling from the human’s lips faster than he could think. “Wait! Wait please don’t leave again I can’t be stuck alone again you’re the only one I can talk to please -”

“Okay! I- I will stay.” Clawed hands grabbed his wrists in a gentle grip, skin as cold as the void of space pressing against his pulse points. “I will stay.”

Tommy felt his chest deflate, the frantic energy leaving his body in a rush at the promise of companionship. He nodded mutely, returning to perch himself on the bed. The pleas should have left him with shame burning below his skin, but any embarrassment was quickly overtaken with the sheer wave of relief that flooded him at the thought of not being alone. 

Even if his company was an alien.

Ranboo and Captain Philza exchanged a few rapid chirps, and Tommy saw Bird’s dark eyes flick toward him, filled with an emotion he might have called pity if he didn’t know better. Seeming satisfied with Ranboo’s explanation, he swept himself out of the room with a clack of his talons and the faint swoosh of his feathers against the doorframe.

And then there were two.

Tommy quirked his lips in the silence that followed. Fuck awkward silences; he finally 

had someone to talk to, and he was gonna talk .

“Sooooo Ranboob. You never explained fully. How d’you know English so well?”

The taller’s face scrunched up. “My name is Ran boo .”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, Boob Boy.”

“I- That is- Okay then.” He shook his head, tail lashing a few times. “As for your question: I told you. I learned it in school.”

“Yeah, but like… how? As far as I know, aliens don’t talk to anyone on Earth.” 

Ranboo stared at him for a few moments, though Tommy couldn’t decipher if the pinched expression curling the corners of his mouth downward was due to the alien trying to translate a response in his head or the nature of the question itself. As it turned out, it was a bit of both.

The alien’s voice came out uncertain when he finally answered. “I… I am unsure. I learned from a class. Not many take that class, as it is very specific.” His eyes glazed in confusion. “Now that I think about it, the teacher never told us where he learned the language.”

“Sounds stupid,” Tommy grumbled, but he mentally filed that shred of information away in the back of his mind, determined to analize it when he wasn’t mentally exhausted already.

Ranboo simply clacked his claws together, leaning back against the wall and sweeping his tail in front of his skirt in a lazy motion. “You have not told me much about you. What are some interesting human things?”

Tommy kicked his legs absentmindedly. Human things, huh. “I don’t know what you would find interesting. Ask something specific.”

“Um, okay.” The other mulled it over, before lighting up with excitement. “Oh! Tell me about a human custom. Something important.”

A million different things flashed through Tommy’s head at the other’s words. A million different answers, and yet Tommy’s mind latched onto one in particular.

He drew up his knees to his chest, gaze unfocusing as he let memories draw him away from the cold metal of the ship. “Concerts are pretty poggers, I guess."

Ranboo folded his arms across his chest, the motion jostling the gold bracelets. "I am going to assume that 'poggers' means something good. Tell me more."

Tommy glanced up at him from over his knees, finding the other leaning forward in intrigue. He snorted a laugh at the alien's eagerness. "Alright, so imagine your favorite song. The best song in the world, in the entire universe . Or maybe it's not one song, but some specific person or group that you love hearing. Now imagine a great gathering of people, from all different places and walks of life, coming together in one location just to hear that specific song." 

As he spoke, he could almost feel the heat of hundreds of people all squished together in one area. His mind conjured images of the flashing lights, the whole world exploding in bursts of color like supernovas as the crowd screamed in delight and awe. "There's lights and dancing and even food sometimes. But the best part," he grinned. "The best part is when everyone knows the lyrics. Can you imagine that? A sea of people all screaming the words to the same song, all sharing a moment of happiness with total strangers."

Ranboo's face was swimming with emotions, like he was drowning in the imagery of such a thing as much as Tommy was drowning in the memory of it.

Tearing his eyes away from the alien, Tommy let the wild grin drop from his face, replacing it with something softer. "That's pretty human, I think."

Silence fell between them; not bad or awkward, but something heavy all the same. Tommy could tell that his answer had surprised the alien, but he didn’t care. If they all thought humans were simply savage and vicious all the time, then he was going to prove them wrong. Humanity was… complicated. Yes, there were terrible parts of human history, he wasn’t denying that, but there were also beautiful moments. You can’t just look at two points of black and white and ignore the entire sea of gray stretched between them.

Ranboo's tail flickered, and he spoke in a voice that hinted of ice and inky black night. "My kind… is not one that makes music important. We do have some songs that are used for formal times, but what you speak of…" he trailed off, unable to put together words that would do his assessment justice in his incomplete grasp of English.

"Yeah, it's kinda fire."

A wry smile tugged at the corner of the alien's mouth. "Again, I do not know what that means but I assume it is a good thing."

"Fuck yeah it is, Boob Boy!" He barked out a laugh at the other's sigh.

A loud bang from beyond the closed door startled the two into silence, cutting off what would have been Ranboo's exasperated reply. They had just enough time to shoot each other baffled looks before the door was sliding open with a soft hiss and Bee came barreling into the room, launching himself at the split toned alien.

Latching himself to the other with all four arms, Bee warbled and buzzed rapidly, seemingly undeterred by Ranboo's alarmed trills. Tommy would have been worried, if not for the fond smile plastering itself on the alien's freckled face.

After a few moments, Bee seemed to remember that Tommy was there. He let go of Ranboo, instead choosing to copy the taller's pose (though Tommy noticed he stayed pressed shoulder to shoulder with him).

Ranboo cleared his throat, looking uncertain at the change of events. "I, well, I guess you have met already."

Tommy snickered. "Oh, we've met all right. The spoon knows."

"Are you ever going to explain what that means?"

"No-pe!" Tommy popped the P, smirking at Ranboo's helplessly lost expression. "Why don't you ask Bee?" He gestured to the winged alien, who looked wordlessly to Ranboo for translation.

Upon receiving it, the small alien let out a stuttering buzz, which Tommy realized was Bee’s way of laughing. Ranboo let out a few indignant chirps, much to the added amusement of Bee, who was practically vibrating with the force of the buzzing purr erupting from his throat. Tommy couldn’t help joining in, doubling over in giggles only made stronger by Ranboo’s betrayed look.

“What? What does it mean?”

Tommy wiped imaginary tears away from his cheeks. “Don’t worry about it, Big Man.”

Ranboo just shook his head, sending a glare of fake annoyance at Bee. “Whatever. His name is not Bee, by the way.”

“Well, obviously , but it’s not like I could’ve asked him before. Plus, the spoon did most of the talking anyway.” Tommy rolled his eyes, addressing the short alien. “What’s your name then, bitch?”

Bee glanced at Ranboo as the taller alien warbled out his question. Then, he did something that both shocked him and let bloom something warm in a hidden part of Tommy’s chest. Instead of mumbling an answer back to Ranboo and letting him translate it, as all the others had done, he turned to face Tommy with a look of concentration.

With only a short moment of hesitation to look once more at Ranboo, the short alien raised one hand to his chest and spoke one word with careful enunciation. “Tubbo.” He pointed again to himself, and repeated it. “Tubbo.”

“Tubbo.” The other beamed at his attempt to pronounce his name. He could tell that his accent was strange, the word too rough for his mouth, but Tubbo didn’t seem to care at all. A pleased buzzing sound hummed from the alien, and his antenna twitched in what Tommy guessed was approval.

In a mirror of Bee’s actions, he lifted one hand to point at his own chest, gesturing the way the alien had. “Tommy. My name is Tommy.”

“Tommy.” 

“Tubbo.”

“Ranboo.”

They turned two curious looks at the tall alien, who rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “Sorry, I wanted to feel included.”

Tommy barked out another laugh, the sound filling the metal room as though it could drive away space’s chill with its warmth alone. 

Maybe his time here wasn’t going to be completely miserable. A foolish shred of hope lodged into his heart, daring to whisper that maybe, just maybe, things would get better soon. It hurt too much to push the thought away, so he selfishly let it be.

Chapter Text

It was all too soon that Philza came back, accompanied by a particularly stiff looking Pig Man. 

The minute the door had opened, the joke Tommy was in the middle of telling died on his tongue, shoulders bunching defensively at the forcibly neutral expressions on the two intruders faces.

Bird had murmured soft words to Ranboo, voice kind but firm as he gestured to the door. Technoblade’s face remained blank, simply watching the exchange with disinterested eyes that Tommy knew were lying.

Ranboo had explained that it was time to eat, and that the captain had invited all of them, something that Tommy found suspicious. Even so, he compiled without protest as the taller held him by the arm and guided him behind Bird and Pig Man.

Tubbo fell into step next to them, antenna twitching with unease at the obvious tension radiating from the crewmates ahead of them. Tommy couldn’t blame him; he was ready to bolt back to the safety of the small room if they gave him the chance.

Their assembly entered a large circular room, and Tommy jolted as he realized it was the cafeteria. The space housed a large oval table, which was already piled high with several dishes of food. The smells permeated the air, rich with spices Tommy was hopeless to identify and yet desperate to try. His mouth watered, and he swallowed at the reminder that he hadn’t had real food in weeks.

A quiet trill drew his focus away from the feast. Gray Bitch sat at the far end of the table, obviously uncertain about the party currently filing into the room. He shrank in his seat as they grew closer, shoulders hunching and eyes avoiding theirs.

Tommy ended up seated next to Ranboo and Philza, with Tubbo on the taller alien’s right and Technoblade and Gray Bitch across from them. Tommy stole a hesitant glance at Gray Bitch, but he was still keeping his eyes pointedly fixed on the table in front of him. Technoblade, however, was staring daggers at him with a stew of conflict strewn across his boarish face. Tommy shuddered, breaking eye contact and inching a bit closer to Ranboo.

Hesitantly, the group began filling their plates, movements slow in the tension.

This is like the world’s most awkward family dinner, he thought with a twinge of hysteria. If he wasn’t slightly terrified, he would’ve laughed. He shook the thought away and faced his plate.

He took a small bite of some green vegetable looking dish, and blinked in astonishment. It was delicious . The vegetable tasted somewhere between broccoli and a potato, and was covered in a creamy butter sauce. Tommy had barely swallowed the first bite before shoveling the next down his throat. Sue him, he was hungry.

Philza actually seemed relieved to see him eating, the slight tension in his wings draining as he started on his own meal. Tommy, mouth full of some chewy dough substance now, watched with feigned disinterest as the feathers fluffed up and resettled the selves against the alien’s back. He wondered if they were as soft as they looked.

When their plates were empty and their bellies full ( at last , Tommy grumbled internally), the captain clapped his taloned hands together, turning to Tommy with a few coos.

“He is asking if you want to talk right now,” Ranboo muttered helpfully from his right.

Tommy felt his face prickle with heat at the attention as everyone waited for his answer. Did he want to talk? He was fine before with Ranboo and Tubbo; he was laughing and making jokes and actually having fun . He was fine . No one was going to hurt him. Captain Philza promised.

So why did he suddenly feel like the airlock had burst and his lungs no longer worked?

He shook his head, cringing away from whatever reaction the captain was bound to have. To his surprise, Bird didn’t get angry. He simply tilted his head in acknowledgement and cawed a few words to Ranboo. The taller alien chirped a response, and then Bird was chattering away to Gray Bitch just like that. 

Tommy looked at Ranboo, bewildered, but the other simply shrugged and mumbled a few words to Tubbo.

The human took some time to scan the room. Now that the focus was off him, the others seemed to settle back into what Tommy assumed was semi normal for them. Gray Bitch and Bird were chirping and cooing to each other, with Technoblade occasionally butting in to give a low grumble or snort. Tubbo and Ranboo listened, whispering to each other every few minutes and giggling quietly at jokes Tommy couldn’t hope to understand. That familiar pang of loneliness struck him again, hollow and heavy and piercing all at the same time as he sat at the table, human alone.

He tugged on Ranboo’s sleeve. “Hey,” he mumbled.

The other looked at him expectantly, and Tommy cringed. “I- Well, if you’re not busy, could you… talk to me again? Just us two.” Even as he said it, he felt himself retreating, bracing himself for a rejection he’s sure was coming, or at least questions about why he won’t talk to the alien crew.

To his surprise, Ranboo only straightened himself up with an ecstatic grin. “Of course! What do you want to talk about?”

“Tell me about you. All of you. Aliens.” He gestured vaguely around to the group seated at the table.

Ranboo followed his eyes, gaze growing a bit distant as he thought over his response. Finally, he tilted his head and answered “As you can see, we are all different… kinds? What is the word?”

“Species?”

He clacked his claws against the table. “Right. We are all different species, and we all come from very different places. For example, my species is called-” He said a word in that icy rasping screech language that Tommy heard back in the interrogation room. “-But we are mostly known as Enders. Our planet is cold and dark, and we have lived for thousands of years there.”

The Ender hesitated, and Tommy could see his tail uncurl from around his legs to lash in agitation. 

“There is… something else. Most Ender do not look like me. Our skin is supposed to be black, like space with no stars.” He raises his left hand, flexing his fingers with a pained look. “I was born different.” He said the words like they were poison, like he was spinning a toxic web in which he’d already resigned himself to being stuck forever. He said it like it was something to be ashamed of.

Tommy wasn’t going to stand for that.

“Hey, Boob Boy,” he muttered, eyes avoidant and yet purposeful. “Back where I come from, humans are born different all the time. We all look very different from each other. Your differences don't bother me.”

The alien’s eyes didn’t waver from their fixation on the bone white claws. “Only sometimes can I say the same.”

Tommy sensed he’d fallen down into a sea of memories and monsters, and he quickly jumped to change the subject. “Enough about yourself, Boob, tell me about someone else! Tell me about Tubbo!”

Ranboo grabbed onto the topic switch like a lifeline. “Okay, yeah, Tubbo.” The small alien shot them a curious glance upon hearing his name, turning back to the others only when Ranboo had chirped a few words and brushed his tail soothingly across the edge of his wings. “Tubbo’s species is called the Apiisians. They live on the planet we are on right now, which most people call the Hive. They are most known for their colorful clothes. They use the colored flowers that grow on the planet to make them.” As he said this, he absentmindedly picked at the seams of his skirt, and Tommy had a feeling the garment was an example. “Tubbo is… well… I do not think there is a human equivalent of what we are. Like friends, but…” He broke off, fangs poking out of his lip as he thought.

Tommy wrinkled his nose jokingly. “So you’re like, married or some shit?”

He just shrugged. “We are life-partners. That is all we need to be.” Tommy nodded, not quite understanding, but knowing that he was okay with not knowing.

Ranboo moved on. “Captain Philza is an Avian. His planet is full of large rocks and cliffs, and they use their big wings to travel long distances.” His eyes gained an awed gleam. “There are not very many of them, so it is always very lucky to meet one.”

Tommy hummed, stealing a quick peek at Bird. The alien was still caught up in conversation, feathers puffing up and talons waving through the air as he talked, and he didn’t notice. He looked away.

“What about Technoblade?” He asked, trying to keep his voice low enough that the one alien he was sure disliked him didn’t hear.

Ranboo, thankfully, caught on fast, lowering his volume slightly. “Ah. He is a Piglin. They are very strong, and have an amazing sense of smell. Most other species… do not like piglins very much. They are supposed to be mean and unintelligent. A lot of them scare people. They say that piglins are only good for bloodshed.” He frowned, like the words he was saying tasted sour on his tongue.

“You don’t believe that,” Tommy guessed.

The alien shook his head, setting his claws in his lap. “I have met piglins. Before Technoblade.” His claws curled into fists. “They are nothing like what others say about them.”

Tommy lifted his eyes across the table. Technoblade’s snout was pulled into an amused smirk, golden gaze fond as he watched his crewmates bicker about some unknown topic. His tusks gleamed as he huffed out a laugh at something Gray Bitch said, and Tommy’s stomach churned with emotion. He looked away. “I believe you.”

Ranboo nodded at his words, shaking out his hands. Tommy could see crescent indents lining his palms. “And then there’s Wilbur.” 

Tommy was about to ask who the fuck Wilbur was, until it struck him that he was an idiot. There was only one alien left. 

Ranboo either didn’t notice his rising inner turmoil, or chose to ignore it, because he continued in his chilled baritone. “He is a Phantom. They have four eyes, which give them great night sight. Their planet is in the same star system as the Avians, and it is very similar in makeup. They live in giant cave cliffs, flying between them at night to travel, as they get burned in the day on their planet.”

Tommy was nodding along, about to ask some question about the Avian-Phantom star system, when he ran through what the Ender had told him in his head again. He looked over at Gray Bitch- Wilbur - and frowned. 

“...flying?” he questioned.

Ranboo opened his mouth and closed it a few times, suddenly looking extremely uncomfortable. “Ah. Well. Yes. Flying.” The words were stuttered and staccato. He looked between Wilbur and Tommy, expression conflicted. “Phantoms… usually have wings.”

Oh .

“So… he’s like you? Just born different?”

Ranboo wrung his hands, curling his tail around Tommy’s leg, which Tommy suspected the other didn’t realize he was doing. “I do not know. And if I did, it would not be my place to say. Wings are… special, to those species that have them.” The other looked unhappy at his limited word choice, but Tommy could hear the silent reverence that Ranboo left unspoken. Wings were not special. They were sacred . They were precious .

Suddenly, he couldn’t stand the thought of being isolated any longer.

“Ranboo,” he muttered, looking the taller alien in the eye. “I think. I think I want to talk to them.”

Ranboo grasped his hand gently, and only then did Tommy realize his were trembling. The Ender blinked patiently. “Are you sure?”

Tommy looked around him. At Philza’s calm smile, at Technoblade’s soft expression, at Wilbur’s bright grin, at Tubbo’s quiet attentiveness. He took a deep breath, answering firmly despite the nerves clawing at his lungs. “I’m sure.”

Even with his newfound conviction, he was still surprised that the words didn’t fall like a lie from his lips.

Chapter Text

Wilbur was trying. He really, really was trying. He’d fucked up, and the resulting awkwardness and tension in the crew, not to mention their unexpected guests, was entirely his fault, and he was doing everything to rectify his mistakes. Right now, that meant pretending he was fine, like he wasn’t currently drowning.

But Prime, was it difficult.

Every glance at Tommy from across the table filled him with a stabbing chill that only grew, and he wished he could run away and never talk to anyone else ever again.

Well, he’d apologize to everyone first. But after that it was banishment. Maybe then he wouldn’t let anyone else get hurt. Anything to fix the mess he’d caused.

And yet, he joked and made conversation from his place at the table, like it was worth it, like he wasn’t dying from the guilt threatening to suffocate him. The words felt flat and lifeless on his tongue, the grins tainted and false. And he still continued on, acting in his one man play on a stage of his own making.

Techno and Phil seemed oblivious to his plight, carrying on in the small silences he left behind with his fake words and faker grins. Even Tubbo remained focused on the conversation, buzzing happily along with the others.

Wilbur wanted to scream. Couldn’t they see that everything was wrong?

He quipped a response back to something Phil had said, charming lies earning a chorus of laughs. They sounded like applause. He couldn’t do it anymore.

He couldn’t do it.

He opened his mouth, ready to spew some bullshit excuse to leave ( sorry guys, I have some lab work to do, so sad to be leaving- ) when Ranboo held his two toned hands up in the air in an unspoken plea for silence. Wilbur took one look at the serious expression the other sported, and promptly snapped his mouth shut.

Ranboo cleared his throat, ears twitching as the table settled its focus on him. “Tommy decided he was ready to speak with you all.”

Phil looked absolutely elated, fluffing his feathers where they rested against his back. Tubbo leaned over Ranboo to buzz encouragingly at the human. Techno didn’t say anything, but Wilbur sensed his curiosity from the way the piglin kept his eyes fixed across the table.

Tommy’s face looked pale, but determined. He leaned into Ranboo’s side like the Ender could offer some sort of shield, and the taller alien shifted to accommodate him. Tommy muttered something into his ear, and Ranboo straightened up to address the rest of them. “I’ve been telling Tommy as best as I’m able about our various species, but he was curious what everyone else was talking about.”

Phil cooed softly. “We were just reminiscing on the last time we went to the Hive. Techno discovered he was allergic to this one specific flower and didn’t stop sneezing for two cycles!” He let out a warbling chuckle at the memory, and the Ender quickly translated for Tommy. “You could hear him a solar system away.”

The human was still for a moment, before bursting out in nervous giggles. Wilbur cracked a smile, hearing Techno huff in faux irritation.

“Phil. Phil please. You’re ruining my tough reputation, Phil.” The avian rolled his eyes at the dramatics.

Tommy had continued to grin during the exchange, though his face fell minutely when he caught the piglin’s gaze over the cooling plates of food. Wilbur felt Techno tense from beside him, and the pink alien looked away from the human and instead fixed him with a heatless, golden eyed glare.

“At least I don’t purposely antagonize locals.” 

Wilbur gasped in indignation. “I’ll have you know that anyone who is antagonized by me deserved it.”

The crew laughed at the two’s antics, though Wilbur swore he saw Ranboo give him a searching look as he murmured his stream of commentary to Tommy.

As they settled into comfortable -if unfamiliar due to the newcomers- banter, Wilbur found himself able to breathe for the first time in hours. Aside from the fact that Tommy seemed unharmed and content, Technoblade and Philza seemed to have moved past their quarrel. Wilbur knew they still had to talk, but at the very least they were staying civil in the face of their guests. 

He glanced at Techno’s face, watching his shifting expressions as he followed whatever anecdote Tubbo was busy recounting. The others might have been fooled by the neutrality painted there, but Wilbur could see the cracks in the piglin’s mask. He was conflicted.

The phantom pressed closer to his side, pushing away the hollowness in his chest as he realized how much easier this would be if he had a wing to wrap around the piglin’s shoulders. Techno stiffened, before relaxing with an almost inaudible grumble. He shot Wilbur a questioning look, but the phantom kept his eyes on Phil and refused to bring attention to his actions.

Wilbur couldn't pretend to agree with Techno's distrust of the human, but he did know that it came from a place of concern and protectiveness, and that obviously the piglin was uncomfortable. His friend, his brother was hurting, and he could push aside his lingering anger at Technoblade's hostility for this moment.

The phantom tuned back into the conversation as Tubbo snatched a spoon off the table and began swinging it through the air, both he and Tommy cackling maniacally at the woefully confused look on Ranboo’s face. Phil tilted his head as he watched them, pleasant smile tinted in puzzlement. Wilbur snorted. The captain was probably just thankful the kids were getting along now.

Tubbo caught them all staring, and shrugged, flipping the spoon like a baton, or maybe one of his screwdrivers. “Pretty shit weapon.” He pocketed it anyway.

Ranboo face planted (gently) into the table, earrings jingling as they collided with the smooth surface. “Are you ever gonna tell me what that means?” His voice came out muffled.

“Nope!”

Tommy just patted the Ender’s shoulder, an expression of mock solumness gracing his pale face.

A chirping laugh ripped its way out of Wilbur’s throat against his will, and the human snapped his eyes up at the noise. For a second, it was just like how it was before. He could almost imagine they were back in the kitchen, existing in each other’s space with an entire galaxy of difference between them.

He looked away first, not deserving it after everything. He was perfectly content to let the chatter move on without him, let the people that Tommy felt comfortable with steer the topics and pretend that Wilbur didn’t exist. Apparently, the universe hated that plan, as not even a minute later he was addressed by a voice that had all four of his eyes widening in shock.

“Wilbur?”

Tommy was looking at him. Tommy was looking at him , and he said his name , not with anger or disgust, but with hope . It left him reeling, like the artificial gravity was bugged and his internal organs were floating freely in his gut. He almost missed the human mutter a few words to Ranboo, who frowned and exchanged a few more remarks before turning to Wilbur.

“He’s asking if after this you can… I think he’s asking you to play some instrument for him? I don’t recognize the word but he mentioned music and told me you’d know what he meant.”

“I… yes. Tell him yes, I can do that.” 

The Ender leaned over to relay the message, green and red eyes peering at him despite the small smile taking over the human’s face.

Wilbur felt his skin prickle uncomfortably. “Why do you keep looking at me like that?”

Ranboo’s eyes widened, suddenly looking guilty. “Sorry! I didn’t mean to make you self conscious, you just feel really familiar for some reason.”

The phantom frowned. He didn’t think they’d met before. He would have remembered the multicolored Ender and his eccentric mechanic Apiisian. He opened his mouth to say so, but Philza cut him off with a click of his talons.

“Right. I have some business to attend to regarding flight plans, and I’m sure everyone has had an… interesting day… so I think it is time to clear up for the evening.” He turned to Tubbo and Ranboo. “You two are more than welcome to stay in our guest rooms for the night, if you wish.”

“I’ll clean up,” Techno volunteered gruffly. 

The ensemble rose from the table, shuffling into their respective groups as Phil stolled away in the direction of the bridge. Techno immediately began clearing away plates and dishes to be washed, joined a moment later by Tubbo after the Apiis shared a few parting words with Ranboo.

Tommy kept by the Ender’s side, his constant hovering not phasing the taller alien as they made their way towards Wilbur. In fact, the phantom noticed with irritation, Ranboo was still peering at him like he was some strange specimen. It made his skin crawl, the lack of weight on his back glaringly obvious to him for the first time in a while, and he hated it. He hated it, the way it made him feel naked, like he was just some exhibit for others to point at and pity.

As the pair approached him, he folded his arms across his chest. “You’re still staring,” he pointed out lightly, like it was just a normal observation and not an accusation.

Ranboo at least had the decency to have embarrassment mixed into his surprised expression. “S-sorry! I’m sorry! I didn’t meant to, um, stare, you just-”

“Is it about the wings?” Wilbur asked bluntly, cringing internally as his mind unhelpfully corrected himself. Lack. The lack of wings.

Ranboo gasped, clawed hands coming up in denial. “No! No, of course not, it’s not like I have any room to talk when it comes to looking strange.” He sighed, the sound bitter and yet soothing the burn of self-loathing in Wilbur’s chest. “No, you’re just… so familiar. I swear on the Void I know you somehow.”

Tommy was looking between the two of them with the most lost expression Wilbur had ever seen, smart enough to realize there was some conflict happening but not able to grasp the entirety of the situation with the language barrier.

Wilbur raised an eyebrow. “Take this in the most neutral way possible, Ranboo, but you’re kind of hard to forget. I think I’d remember if I’d seen you before.”

“That’s fair, actually.” He picked at his claws. “I’m sorry for making you feel uncomfortable.”

The phantom sighed, quirking his lips into a small smile. “I forgive you.”

Tommy tugged on the Ender’s sleeve, whispering chattered noises into the taller alien’s ear. Ranboo mumbled something back, then gestured for Wilbur to lead them into the ship. As they walked, the human mostly just kept quiet, occasionally whispering more words to Ranboo but otherwise letting the two aliens speak.

Wilbur was surprised to find that behind his anxious shell, Ranboo was actually really funny. The conversation flowed naturally, the Ender getting more and more expressive as they relaxed into amicable words and barely repressed laughter.

“-and that’s why Tubbo never lets me handle scrap deals anymore.” The other finished his story, still giggling.

Wilbur scoffed, still grinning. “I know the feeling. My crew never let me go planetside by myself anymore, even before the whole Tommy Business.”

Tommy pulled a face upon hearing his name, but stayed quiet.

“I still haven’t heard the whole story from Tubbo yet, and this one won’t tell me.” Ranboo shot a good natured glare at the human, curling his tail up to bat at his legs. Tommy swatted it away with a snort of laughter.

Wilbur nodded sagely. “Ah yes. The spoon.”

Ranboo ran a clawed hand down his face in exasperation. “Let me guess. You’re not gonna tell me either.” At the phantom’s teasing look, he narrowed his heterochromatic eyes. “Fine, then tell me why you’re not allowed planetside.”

It was Wilbur’s turn to roll his eyes. “My crew is never gonna let me live this down. Ok, so I may have gone a bit far in an argument this one time after a trade deal went south on Onnowx, and this one Ender came to break it up-”

He cut himself off as Ranboo froze, chained jewelry twinkling at the abrupt stop and eyes flashing with a dawning recognition. “ You’re the one that punched Edward!”

“Oh for fuck’s sake-”

Chapter Text

Three days later, Tommy was yet to truly adjust to his new life aboard the SBI. Ranboo stuck by his side unwaveringly, having decided with Tubbo that they would stay aboard the ship while it was parked on the Hive. 

The crew didn’t seem to mind, as they never even mentioned it.

Philza and Wilbur seemed to relish the company, parading around the metal walls with soft smiles and chirps of greetings that somehow managed to get under Tommy’s skin and fill him with a strange sense of warmth all at once. It was a weird thing to get used to, being treated as a guest instead of the stowaway he’d been just days prior. His room was kept neat and ready for him, a spot was always set for him at meal time, and the others were never far in case he got confused and somehow broke the sink again (which he will firmly maintain was not his fault, stupid alien technology- ).

The only member of the crew he was still puzzling out was Technoblade. The piglin was never outwardly hostile toward him after the first day, but Tommy could tell he was uncomfortable with the human’s presence aboard the ship from his piercing stares and standoffish demeanor. That, and the fact that he never spoke a word to him. The others seemed to keep up endless conversations, chatting away just slowly enough that Ranboo could continue a steady stream of translation muttered into his ears. The language and species barrier only seemed to matter to Techno.

Tommy tried convincing himself that the increasingly long silent treatment didn’t bother him. Tried.

Still, he laughed and talked with the crew and made sure he behaved well enough that they would keep him around. None of the aliens had mentioned taking him home yet, but if his kidnapping really was an accident, they must be thinking about it. A part of him ached at the thought, but he pushed it down. They were happy before him, they’d be happy when he was gone too.

One evening, as Wilbur was trying to teach him and Ranboo a complicated card game that for some reason included staring contests and a modified version of rock paper scissors, Tubbo came buzzing into the living room with an excited screech.

Ranboo warbled a question to him as the apiis flew circles around the room, a small smile curling behind glinting fangs. Tubbo tucked his wings in, grabbing the ender’s clawed hands with his four and buzzing an answer that made Ranboo chirp happily and Wilbur let out a coo of excitement.

Tommy pushed away the familiar annoyance at being left out in favor of repeatedly poking the taller in the side. “What is it? What did he say?”

Ranboo broke his fond stare to glance down at the human. “Tubbo has been trying to contact a possible… mentor? A mentor. And he finally responded to his messages.”

Tommy grinned. “That’s great, Bee!” Tubbo’s antenna waved joyfully.

Ranboo suddenly frowned, tilting his head as he chirped questioningly at the apiis. At once, Tubbo’s expression wrinkled. Tommy could only glance between them, the pit in his stomach growing when the two shared a quick look in his direction before talking in voices that were decidedly not as enthusiastic as before. Even Wilbur looked conflicted, face carefully neutral as he observed the conversation with interest.

Finally, Ranboo looked down at him again, split skin wrinkled in concern. “If Tubbo leaves… I would have to go with him.”

Tommy opened his mouth, about to ask why that was such a problem. It wasn’t that he wouldn’t miss the ender and his friend, but the three aliens were looking at him with stricken expressions that conveyed way more dread than Tommy felt was appropriate. 

But then it hit him. If Ranboo left with Tubbo, there would be no one left who could understand him. He’d be alone again, having lost his one link to the extraterrestrial world. 

He shook his head, mentally scolding himself. Tubbo looked so happy; he couldn’t ask the apiis to miss out on an opportunity to meet this mentor guy just so Ranboo would stay with him. He would figure it out. He would have to.

The hiss of the door opening interrupted his thoughts, the hulking form of Technoblade emerging from the corridor and lingering near the doorway. His golden eyes darted around the room, taking in the four of them perched on the various couches. He huffed questioningly.

At Tommy’s subtle poke, Ranboo translated “What are you doing?”

Wilbur shifted, folding his webbed claws on his legs as he warbled out a response. 

Techno merely raised an eyebrow, looking questioningly at Tubbo as Wilbur explained the situation. When the phantom had finished, he grumbled out another question, tusks bared in surprise as Tubbo answered.

As the two aliens continued their conversation (or maybe interrogation, in Technoblade’s case), Ranboo leaned over to mumble an explanation. “Technoblade asked who the mentor was. Apparently he knows him; his name is Awesamdude.”

Tommy frowned. “ You don’t know him?”

The taller shrugged. “Tubbo has many business contacts across the galaxy and I have memory problems. He has mentioned him before, but no, I do not know him. I do know that Tubbo really admires him.”

“Huh.”

Technoblade seemed to take notice of his presence for the first time, tusks turned up in an obvious display of uncertainty. Tommy lifted his hand to wave, nodding in the pink alien’s direction in a way he hoped came across as friendly. Techno huffed neutrally, attention already sliding back to Tubbo. Tommy told himself that was probably the best reaction he’d get from the piglin, and let it go.

Wilbur stood suddenly, excitement plastered on his face as he began chirping erratically at the gathered aliens. Techno bared his tusks defensively, crossing his arms, but Tubbo buzzed seemingly agreeably.

Ranboo leaned closer to him, a smile forming across his face. “Wilbur says that they should come with us. That way, we will not be separated.” 

Tommy frowned. “They don’t have to do that. I survived on my own for weeks; they shouldn’t… I don’t know, inconvenience themselves for my sake.”

He looked back at the others, frown deepening as he realized the argument had gotten heated. Wilbur no longer sported a grin, instead glaring at Technoblade as the other continued to snarl. Tubbo had moved closer to Ranboo, buzzing nervously as he watched the pair, and Tommy felt a stab of anger.

“Stop!”

His shout echoed around the metal room, freezing the fighting crewmates and replacing  their scowls with expressions of surprise. Even Techno lost his furious glare.

He continued, volume lowered. “Cut it out, you don’t have to keep fucking fighting each other. Wilbur,” he addressed the alien, “the crew doesn’t need to go with Ranboo and Tubbo. I can manage just fine without them. And you -” He turned to Techno, relieved to hear Ranboo’s stuttering voice murmuring in Common beside him. “Technoblade. You don’t have to worry about going anywhere. I’m not asking anyone to go out of their way to do something for me.” He left out how much he’d miss being able to be understood; Techno wouldn’t care about that. He shook his head, muttering “I’m going to my room,” before ducking away from whatever emotions were strewn around the room and practically running out the door. No one stopped him, but he could hear Ranboo’s half hearted calls echoing in the spaces he left behind, as though the ender knew he wouldn’t be listened to but felt the need to try anyway.

With a frankly comical sense of deja vu, Tommy’s flight through the corridors of the SBI was cut short by a swiftly made corner turn and subsequent collision with none other than Captain Philza. Tommy had only a second to hear Bird’s startled squawk before both he and the green robed alien were sprawled on the floor in a mess of limbs and feathers.

The human jumped to his feet, ignoring the pain radiating from somewhere beyond his hairline from hitting his head on the floor and sheepishly extending a hand toward Phil, who grasped it with gentle talons and let Tommy pull him to his feet. The fall had knocked his hat askew, so bits of his golden hair were sticking out from underneath it. If Tommy hadn’t already been in a sour mood, the sight would’ve sent him into giggles.

Instead, he schooled his expression into something apologetic as Bird fixed a few stray feathers and gave him a questioning coo.

“I’m fine. Sorry about that.” Tommy knew the other wouldn’t quite understand, but he was hoping that would be enough to placate the other and then he could go sulk in his room in peace. Apparently the universe decided that was a horrible idea, because the alien didn’t seem convinced.

With another coo, this time more insistent and edged with something akin to alarm, Bird gently grabbed him by the shoulders and reached up to brush his hair back from his forehead. He made a chirp of distress, and when Tommy reached his hand up to investigate it came back smeared with blood. 

“Oh,” he mumbled to himself. “That’s not good.”

The captain made a strangled squawk noise, feathers flaring around his face in waves of distress. Grabbing his hand with one of his talons, Tommy felt the avian start to lead him down the corridor.

Tommy frowned. “It’s fine. I- I’m okay.” But the other just gave him another coo, and the human relented and let himself be pulled through the ship.

It wasn’t long before Phil stopped, raising a taloned hand to the scanner by one of the doors and waiting for it to swish open. Tommy barely held in his gasp at the sight that met him.

It was the same room he’d woken up in, so long ago. Distantly, he realized that he lost track of how long he’d actually been aboard the ship. Weeks, certainly. A month? He couldn’t tell, and he felt his throat close up a bit at the thought. The room was almost exactly the same; beds still lined the walls in the spaces not taken up by tubes and wiring and machines of all sizes. A wall of cabinets lined the metal above most of them, their faces pristine and gleaming with sterility much like the rest of the room. The air felt electric, but that might have been the numbness snaking its way up his limbs, tightening under his skin until it prickled uncomfortably.

From somewhere far away, he watched Bird stride purposefully into the room and open up one of the metal cabinets and begin rummaging through it. Tommy just watched with eyes swimming with stars and that’s not normal, is it?  

He shouldn’t have felt that woozy, should he? Numbly, he reached his hand back to the wound on his head and felt the lump starting to form under the still trickling blood, but that shouldn’t have done that much to him. It shouldn’t be making his hands shake and vision blur and- when was the last time he’s taken a breath? He should be breathing right now, but it’s so difficult and his chest feels too tight and he needs to go he needs to get out they’re gonna catch him they’ve already caught him-

“-my? Tommy?” 

“DON’T TOUCH ME!” Tommy flailed, eyes wide with terror. He could see the blurred face of Bird in front of him, talons snatched back against his body at the human’s outburst. The small, rational part of his brain was screaming that this was Phil, the captain. This was his friend . But the louder and more animalistic part kept flashing images of feathers and talons and too many eyes and tusks gleaming ready to tear and hurt -

Tommy wheezed, gulping strangled breaths that tore at his throat as he stumbled to the wall and curled up against it. Bird made an aborted attempt to step closer, stopping only at the human’s terrified whine. 

Need to get away need to get out run hide get away-

Letting out a string of distressed chirps and warbles, Phil raised his communicator to his face while Tommy buried his face into his knees and tried to remember how to draw air into his lungs.

Minutes, or perhaps centuries later, Ranboo charged into the room with Tubbo and Wilbur on his heels. Brushing past Bird, the ender made his way toward the wall where Tommy was huddled, movements slow but sure.

Crouching and curling in on himself to make his freakishly tall frame less threatening, Ranboo began taking deep, exaggerated breaths. “You are okay. You are safe. This is the medical bay of the SBI. You are safe here.”

Tommy latched onto the murmured words like a lifeline, desperately willing his gasps to match the even pace of the ender. It took several long moments, but eventually the room faded back into focus and his chest slowed its rapid heaving. Through it all, Ranboo kept up a constant stream of reassurances in his icy baritone. 

As soon as he felt like he could move his legs he surged up, almost bowling the ender over as he crushed him in a hug. Ranboo let out a small oof sound at the collision, but wrapped his arms around Tommy and brought his tail up to curl around the human’s waist. Tommy shut his eyes, pressing his face into the taller alien’s shirt. “Thanks.” The word was muffled and cracked, but the ender’s arms tightened around his frame.

He could hear whispered words echoing from somewhere across the room, and Ranboo made a coo in response. “Tommy? Phil is asking if you are okay.”

The human pulled away, not yet letting go of his grip on Ranboo but enough to peak his head over the alien’s shoulder. Phil, Tubbo, and Wilbur huddled in the doorway, looking worried but unsure. He cleared his throat. “Y-yeah. Yeah I’m… yeah. Sorry.”

The ender frowned down at him, tail twitching. “Why are you apologizing? It is not your fault.”

Tommy was about to butt in and explain that actually yes, him freaking out over nothing and worrying everyone was absolutely his fault, but a questioning caw from Bird cut him off.

“Phil is asking what happened, if there was anything he did to upset you.”

With a sinking feeling pulling at his insides, Tommy shook his head. “No, he didn’t do anything wrong.” 

Ranboo made a soft vroop . “Then… Can you tell us what happened? I do not want to pressure you, but you still need to get cleaned up and have someone check your injury.”

The sticky feeling of dried blood made itself known as Tommy was reminded of his stinging wound. “Oh- there’s- I got blood on your shirt, I’m so sorry-”

“Tommy.” The human’s mouth snapped shut with an audible click at the word. “I do not care about the shirt, I care about you .”

Oh.

“Oh.” He echoed his brain, because how do you respond to that?

Ranboo gently untangled Tommy’s arms from his own, easing himself to his feet and pulling Tommy up with him. The human felt a bit shaky, but the alien kept a hand on his arm to steady him. Now standing, Tommy could again take in the rest of the room, with its beds and machinery and wires.

“Now, we should let Phil or Wilbur clean your wound-”

“It’s this room.”

Ranboo’s guiding voice fizzled to a halt at his exclamation. “What?”

Tommy felt his cheeks flare red, but he pressed on. “That's why I freaked out. This was the room… This is where I woke up. On the ship.” He exhaled. “Guess it brought back some unpleasant memories.”

Ranboo translated for the others, and Tommy watched their expressions morph from concerned to heartbroken. Wilbur especially looked as if someone had punched him through the chest, face crumpling with guilt so strong that Tommy had to look away.

Now that his panicked adrenaline had worn off, the burn of the cut on his head felt a lot more distracting, and he swallowed the lingering fear in order to start tugging the alien’s arm toward the nearest bed. “C’mon, Ranboob. Gotta get stitches ‘n shit.”

The ender nodded wordlessly to the others, and they gathered around to help.

As Tommy’s injury was dressed and bloodied clothes were swapped and tears made way for laughter, not one occupant of the room thought to check just outside the doorway for a lone, guilt-ridden piglin.

*******

Later, as night fell on the ship, a phantom and a piglin crossed paths in the labyrinth of twisting metal passageways. The phantom kept quiet, burning with words lingering just below the surface of his gray skin, but tongue held fast. 

As he was about to turn the corner and leave, the piglin spoke up. “Wait.”

The phantom froze, still facing away.

The piglin shuffled forward a single step. “Wilbur, I…” He trailed off, huffing lightly before trying again. “If-If Phil agrees, I… I think it would be nice. To pay Sam a visit.”

The phantom stiffened in surprise. “That.. would be great. We can ask in the morning.”

Neither moved for a long moment, until the phantom chanced a look over his shoulder. “Thank you, Techno.”

The piglin nodded, eyes down and shoulders hunched. The two parted ways, resuming their respective journeys, and the ship was quiet once more.

Chapter Text

Tubbo had been on many ships in his life. Being a mechanic meant going out and seeing the world, and, as an added consequence, all of the many types of beings that lived in it. He’s chatted with mer, bargained with felidenne, and even once met the commander of the Ender fleet (a story which involves quite a few drinks and an argument about how fast an Apiisian E-290b cargo ship can fly).

And yet, this was still the most interesting compilation of aliens he’d ever spent time with.

Of course, there was the obvious: Tommy the human. Despite being well versed in knowledge about a wide variety of the universe’s inhabitants, Tubbo had heard surprisingly little about Terra’s most infamous occupants outside of a few far-fetched rumors that were so blown out of proportion that he discredited them almost immediately. Tommy was nothing like them anyway. 

As Tubbo hung out with the crew on the way to the station where Awesamdude resided, he found himself more and more fond of the chaotic atmosphere that seemed to emanate from the boy himself. Tommy was loud, and at times a bit crude, but he was also extremely kind and well attentive when it came to conversing with the crew. Even their rocky first meeting felt humorous to the apiisian now, especially with the constant spoon jokes flying above Ranboo’s head.

Speaking of Ranboo…

Tubbo had no idea how the ender was managing. Obviously the apiisian knew that the taller alien was fluent in many languages (training to be an ambassador to his species and all that), but watching him translate nonsensical squeaks into intelligent quips and creative insights was still astounding to him. Even now, he felt pride warm him as he watched Ranboo joke around with Tommy and the crew. He had asked him once, one of the first days into the journey, if the constant translating and language switching was tiring. The Ender had just flicked his tail dismissively, admitting to being challenged but viewing it as great practical study in diplomacy. 

Tubbo would leave him to it; he had wires to strip and metal to weld.

The SBI herself was in pretty rough shape after all she’d been through. He’d told Technoblade that the first time he stepped foot inside her gleaming hull, though admittedly he’d overacted a bit about the condition of her with his complaining. Nevertheless, he still felt itchy just looking at some of the uncalibrated instruments and loose panels. 

Which is how he now found himself crawling through the air ventilation system for the second time. 

Dust swirled in the stagnant air as the apiisian crept across the cold metal, careful to avoid leaning too far forward and send tools scattering in the cramped space. He buzzed quietly to himself, the corner of his lips tugging up as he reminisced again on his panicked flight from his now-friend. The muffled thumping of his limbs, calm and evenly echoing into the ship, were nothing like the loud crashes as he had made during the incident. His antenna waved gleefully at the reminder that every part he fixed was just another reflection of the positive change in the ship.

The sound of footsteps from up ahead made him pause, head cocking as he strained to listen. It was difficult to tell from his position, but Tubbo could tell they were heavy, the echo of them steady and full. He shuffled a few more lengths forward, reaching a junction.

The footsteps were coming from the passage to the left, where one of the storage corridors ran. At the end of the vent, he could see light rays filtering in through a vent in the floor, the harsh fluorescents illuminating bands of dust hanging in the air. Curious, Tubbo turned and headed into the tunnel…

*******

Elsewhere nearby, Ranboo twined his tail around one of his tall legs as he stood watching the stars drift lazily past outside one of the SBI’s observation windows. The ender’s mind was calm and pensive, several thought lines running parallel to each other as they took in the expanse of space surrounding them.

A creak sounded behind him, and Ranboo turned to see the large figure of Technoblade hovering somewhat awkwardly at the end of the corridor.

“Am I interrupting?” the piglin huffed uncertainly. Ranboo shook his head, feeling the chains in his ears rattle as the pink alien shuffled toward the window to stand alongside him.

For a moment, it was silent. Space scrolled endless in front of them, its overwhelming presence seemingly unable to be ignored for a few moments, even to those so familiar to it. The stale, filtered air felt heavy, somehow, and Ranboo fought to keep their tail from twitching.

Surprisingly, it was Techno who broke the bubble of quiet, not moving his gaze from their fixed point somewhere far away. “I've never grown tired of this view.” It was spoken softly, in a rumble so quiet Ranboo almost wondered if the piglin had meant to say anything aloud.

Despite this, they hummed in agreement. “Back home, before I left the planet, I used to sneak out and use my parents’ star maps to plot imaginary journeys to other planets.”

Techno cracked a smile, gold eyes flicking over to his. “Is that when you realized you wanted to be an ambassador?”

Ranboo returned the smile. “Yes, actually.” They turned their head back to the window. “Space used to feel… unreachable. How was I supposed to ever explore everything, to, to, know everything?” They sighed. “I know that's not how it works, but… everything just felt so far away.”

Techno huffed. “I know how you feel. But I have my crew now. Space might feel unreachable, but we're still going to try.”

Ranboo chuckled a bit, smiling once again. “Don't you see, though? It really isn't unreachable. Everything I learn about people, every language, culture, tradition- that's everything I wanted. Just look at the stars.” The ender gestured with a clawed hand. “Don't they seem closer to you?”

Techno stared out into the abyss of space. Ranboo couldn't read the expression on his tusked face; his eyes were deep with thought and he remained silent for a long while after the echo of the ender’s words had faded into the ship. Finally, the piglin turned to Ranboo.

“You're right. I think it's time that-”

His reply was cut off by the loud shriek of tearing metal and a screeching apiisian crashing down onto Ranboo from the ceiling paneling.

“Wha-TUBBO?” Techno's confused grunt broke the chaos.

“I'm good, boss man!” The dazed apiisian gave four wobbly thumbs up. Ranboo’s groan was muffled underneath him. Tubbo glanced down at them. “You're okay too, Ranboo!” The ender groaned again.

Techno raised a brow skeptically. “Uh, do they need help?” 

Tubbo kept grinning. “They're good.”

“Are you s-”

“Yes.”

“...”

“...”

“I'm… gonna go do something else now.”

Ranboo just groaned again.

Chapter Text

I've been debating on what to do with my fics in light of the recent events surrounding Shelby and Wilbur.

First of all, I want to say that I absolutely support Shelby in coming forward about this. I think she is an incredibly strong person, and I'm glad to see so many people standing up for her, both fans and content creators. I do not condone domestic abuse in any form, and anyone who thinks otherwise has no place in this community.

I feel personally hurt by this situation as someone who was a fan of both Wilbur and Shelby for a long time. I feel betrayed and lied to about someone who was supposed to be a positive role model. As someone with several mental health conditions who deals with feelings of self-loathing and unworthiness, I felt comforted knowing and watching someone who also dealt with those feelings and that I thought was self-reflecting and bettering themself. Now I know those songs/characters were more projection than reflection. I also feel the apology he gave was insensitive, immature, and completely disregards any sense of responsibility. I say this not to take attention away from Shelby and the other people he hurt, but more to say that it's okay for us as fans to feel angry.

As for my fics, I'm sort of at a loss. On one hand, I no longer want to support Wilbur in any way, including writing. However, I feel like the Wilbur in this story is more of my own character. I used basic attributes mainly from the origins smp for my character designs, but otherwise their personalities and interactions have been made more my own. Having said this, I understand if people are no longer comfortable reading fics with Wilbur in them. I know that I myself will not read any more fics involving him.

I want to ask you, the readers, what you all want me to do with this fic. If people want me to delete it, I will. If people still find comfort in what I've written but don't want any further updates, I will mark it unfinished and discontinued, but leave it up on my page. If you would all rather I continued the story I wanted to tell, I will make sure his character will be limited and/or have a way to remove him from the story altogether. He will become a side character and the focus will shift more to the remaining characters. I set out writing this story in hopes to make people happy and to create something worth reading, and now I truly don't know what to do in this situation. 

I want to say to anyone who has felt betrayed and upset by this situation, you're not alone. And to any victims of abuse: you are heard and you are loved. I'm sorry about the things you've been through, and you will always have my support. Shelby was very brave in sharing her story, and I hope she inspires more people to speak out and stand up for themselves.The most important thing to do now is to uplift victims' voices and give them the acceptance and love they deserve.

-Sunny