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“What are we looking for again?”
Phil didn’t look up from where he was polishing his gun. “We got a report of a nest on private property, so we’re going to investigate.”
Technoblade quirked an eyebrow up. “And you’re bringing the gun… why, exactly? I doubt a bunch of fledglings would pose that much of a threat.”
Phil huffed, shoving the gun into its holster. “I’d rather be safe than sorry. Dream’s coven has been acting up lately, there’s every chance this is one of their nests.” He stood, brushing the dust off of his autumn coat.
“Right.” Techno sounded doubtful.
“At least bring a stake, mate,” Phil chuckled.
“Fine,” the younger relented, grabbing his stake from its perch on the wall with a very poorly-hidden eye roll toward his elder.
“Oi!” The two men turned their heads to the entrance of the supply house. “You two going out?”
“Yep,” Techno drawled.
“You need anything, Tubbo?”
“Nah, just bored.” The boy leaned against the doorway, arms crossed over his chest. “When can I come?”
“When you’re old enough to actually join the Academy,” Phil laughed, “why don’t you go give Ranboo a hand? I think he’s weeding the garden.”
“But I don’t want to weed! That’s a drug, and I definitely don’t do drugs.”
“You want to do the dishes tonight?”
“Fine, whatever, go on your lame-arse trip or whatever.”
“Goodbye, Tubbo,” Techno not-so-gently shoved Tubbo out the door, ignoring his indignant squawks of protest, “are we ready to go?”
“Yep, should be.” Phil patted himself down. “I’ve got everything. You?”
Techno gestured to the stake. Phil nodded.
“Alright then, let’s go.”
.
.
.
Wilbur was cold- so, so cold. A few weeks ago, he didn’t even know it was possible to be this cold- cold enough to where he was barely shivering anymore and he couldn’t feel where Tommy was pressed against him. Tommy hadn’t woken up for three days now, and Wilbur was worried, because that definitely wasn’t normal. He knew newborns needed a lot of sleep, but he remembered waking up every few hours for a feeding when he was as little as Tommy was. Tommy hadn’t let out so much as a whimper for days.
But it was fine! Wilbur could handle it. He was twelve years old- basically a grown-up. Well, he was still technically a fledgling, but he definitely was not a newborn. And yeah, he couldn’t feed Tommy like an adult could, but he could go out and get food! He’d gotten a bird just a few days ago- before the cold got so bad that he couldn’t stand up.
But even Wilbur knew that wasn’t enough. Tommy needed to be fed at least every few hours, and it’d been days since he’d gotten his last meal. He needed to eat too, he could feel his stomach grumbling more and more persistently, but Tommy came first. Tommy always came first.
He shivered a little, though it was weak- more of a tremble than an actual shiver. He wondered if his lips were blue like Tommy’s were. The nest wasn’t exactly warm. It was pretty rudimentary. After Dream had kicked them out, he’d been forced to build a nest all on his own. It was freezing all the time, the trees weren’t big enough to block out the constant wind. And he didn’t have any soft things, either, like the stuff in the nests he’d seen other sires build. He’d never built a nest before either, but he thought he did pretty well for his first time. A base of sticks lined with a thick layer of leaves and moss, with a tarp he’d managed to swipe from an abandoned shed draped over his and Tommy’s trembling forms.
It was far from warm or cozy. It was hard, sticks poked at his back every time he moved, there was little protection from the elements, and he’s pretty sure he saw a spider web inside a flap in the tarp, not to mention all the bugs that he’d since given up on getting rid of that just loved to crawl all over him.
Another gust of wind blew through. The sun was setting, which meant it was going to get colder really quick. He wrapped his numb arms around his little brother and hugged him tight, squeezing his eyes shut. Maybe if he dreamed he was somewhere warm- the coven, or a warm hotel, or the house he’d lived in when Tommy was actually a newborn- he wouldn’t feel as cold. That could work, right?
He tried thinking of warm things- a crackling fireplace, warm mittens and fuzzy socks, a hot bowl of soup. He didn’t feel any warmer, but it took his mind off the incessant cold, at least. He could almost hear the sticks breaking apart in the fireplace, the sound getting louder and louder as he focused on it more.
Something snapped from behind him.
His eyes shot open, darting around wildly for the source of the noise. He could barely move, and he didn’t want to let go of Tommy, so he tried to see without moving his head. The most he got was a flash of something gray from behind him. An animal, maybe?
“Hey, you alright there mate?”
Wilbur jumped, arms squeezing around Tommy. He pulled the tarp over Tommy’s head so he was fully obscured from view and turned around. His eyes darted between the two men- humans, definitely- hunters, going by the stake and gun.
For the first time in weeks, his shivering wasn’t from the cold.
“Phil-” the pink-haired one sounded funny, like he was choking on something.
“I know,” the blond-haired man whispered. He took his gun out of its holster. Wilbur flinched, eyes trained on the weapon, but relaxed a bit when it was set harmlessly down on the ground. The stake that the pink-haired one held followed soon after.
Wilbur eyed them warily. Was this some kind of a trick? Maybe they were trying to gain his trust, then kill him when he revealed Tommy.
Nuh uh. No way was that happening.
Begrudgingly, he let go of Tommy, feeling the other shift at the loss of contact. He stared at the two hunters, hardly daring to blink.
“Phil,” the pink-haired one repeated himself.
The blond-haired man- Phil, apparently- walked slowly toward the nest, arms held out as if he was approaching a scared animal. Maybe that’s how he saw vampires- animals that needed to be shot and killed and put on display.
“Hey mate,” he said, his voice quiet. He squatted down beside the nest. Wilbur turned his head to look at him. “What’s a fledgling like you doing out here on your own?”
He almost said he wasn’t alone, but that would have revealed Tommy, so instead he blurted out: “I’m not scared.”
“Of course you’re not,” Phil smiled weakly, “where’s your sire, mate? You look cold.”
Wilbur frowned. “Not here.”
“Are they coming back soon? Do you know?”
“No. He didn’t want me.”
Phil pressed his lips together. “How old are you?”
“...Twelve.”
“How long’s it been since you were turned?”
“I dunno. A little over two years, I think.”
Wilbur didn’t know why he was answering the hunter’s questions, but something about the look on his face made him trust him just the tiniest bit- enough to be somewhat comfortable answering his questions.
“Are you hungry?”
Wilbur licked his chapped lips. “No,” he lied.
“Why don’t you have something to eat anyways?” Phil turned to the pink-haired man, gesturing for him to come over with a little jerk of his head.
The pink-haired man knelt beside Phil on the dirt, fumbling through the satchel on his hip. He pulled out a bag of deep crimson blood- human, no doubt, and a bit on the stale side, but blood all the same. He could feel his mouth watering at the sight.
He swiped the bag, stuffing it into his dirty nightshirt. He’d give it to Tommy later, once the hunters left. If the hunters left.
“You should have it now,” the pink-haired man nodded his head toward him, looking down at where he’d stuffed the bag.
“No.”
The man hesitated. “Alright then. As long as you eat at some point, yeah?”
Wilbur squinted at him. “Why are you being so nice? I thought hunters were supposed to kill vampires.”
“That’s not our only job, and it’s far from our main job either,” the pink-haired man said. “We’re supposed to maintain peace between vampires and humans. Usually that doesn’t include killing.”
“Then why do you have weapons?”
The pink-haired man snorted. “I wasn’t gonna bring mine, but Phil insisted.”
“It’s better to be on the safe side,” Phil’s lip quirked up in a crooked half-smile.
Wilbur eyed the weapons warily, but he chose to believe them. Dream always said hunters were bad and only wanted to kill vampires- especially fledglings- so he didn’t know how true they were actually being, but maybe Dream was talking about a different kind of hunter. Maybe they were nice hunters, if that was even a thing.
“What’s your name?” the pink-haired man asked, placing a hand on the side of the nest.
Wilbur stared at his hand. “Wilbur.”
“That’s a lovely name, Wilbur,” Phil smiled, “I’m Phil, and this is Techno.”
Wilbur scrunched his nose. “That’s a weird name.”
Techno shrugged. “I named myself.”
“That’s stupid, why would you name yourself Techno?”
“Well, my full name is Technoblade,” he said, as if that made it any better.
“That’s even more stupid.”
Phil laughed, lightly shoving Techno to the side. Techno rolled his eyes.
“Yeah yeah, laugh it up, runt.”
There was movement beside him, and Wilbur froze, trying his best not to look. Tommy must have been stirring at all the noise, and no doubt he could smell the blood tucked away in Wilbur’s shirt. Wilbur prayed to every god he knew that Tommy wouldn’t make any noise.
“Are you okay, Wilbur?”
“Yeah, I’m sure the abandoned fledgling who’s half frozen to death is doing just fine,” Techno muttered. Phil shoved him again, harder this time.
“Fine,” he lied, “just cold.”
Both hunters gave him a look that clearly meant they didn’t believe him. If Wilbur wasn’t so cold, he’d be sweating under its intensity.
“Alright,” Phil replied eventually, “do you wanna come with us? You can sit in the car. It’ll be warm, and I’m sure we have a blanket or two.”
It was tempting- really tempting. But Wilbur didn’t take the bait.
“No. I don’t know you. You could be trying to kidnap me.”
Phil shrugged. “I suppose that’s true. How about this- why don’t I go back and grab the blankets for you? Would that be okay?”
Wilbur narrowed his eyes, but he eventually nodded. “Okay.”
Phil smiled, reaching out to ruffle his hair. Wilbur hissed. The hunter retracted his hand, arms thrown up into an “I surrender” position. “Alright, I get it.” He stood, groaning. Wilbur’s ears twitched at the sound of his knees popping. “I should really get out more,” he chuckled.
“You’re getting old, Philza Minecraft.”
“Oi, shut it Techno, I’m not much older than you.”
“You’re like, ten years older than me.”
“Exactly! Not that much older.”
“You’re a feeble old man.”
“Oi!”
Wilbur watched the playful banter with wide eyes. He never realized people casually talked like this. He and Tommy sometimes played rough, when they were younger and actually human, and he overheard the playful arguments between members of his old coven, but he’d never heard it without an underlying hint of tension. It was strange.
“Techno’ll keep you company, is that alright?”
Wilbur nodded.
“Alright. Try not to excite the kid to death with your enthusiasm, Techno.”
Techno rolled his eyes. “Goodbye Philza.”
“Alright, alright, I’m going.”
Wilbur sat still, unsure of what to do once Phil left. He stared at his hands, fidgeting with them on top of the tarp. For a moment, he wished he had some of his old toys to play with. He hadn’t had much, but he had some things back at the coven- two books, a sandwich bag full of LEGOs, and a stuffed orca he’d rescued from a donation bin on the side of the road, to be exact. He wished he could run his fingers through the orca’s rough fur or build a tower out of LEGO blocks. Instead, he picked at the skin around his fingernails and tore tiny bits of skin off his lip with his newly-sharpened fangs.
Suddenly, Tommy stirred under the tarp, grunting softly. Wilbur’s gaze shot up to Techno to see if he’d noticed. Techno was staring at the trees, but looked down once Wilbur started looking at him.
“You good?”
Wilbur froze, unsure of how to answer. Though, it seemed he didn’t have to, because Tommy answered for him in the form of a distressed whine and an unhappy kick to Wilbur’s shins.
Techno shot up, looking alarmed. “Is there someone else under there?” He reached for the tarp, but Wilbur smacked his hand away. The man cleared his throat and sat back on his heels. “Wilbur-”
“Don’t hurt him!” Wilbur shouted, throwing himself on top of his baby brother. Tommy grunted, sounding a little bit scared.
“Wilby?” he slurred, still sleepy, “you okay?”
“Shh!” Wilbur urgently shushed him. Tommy fell quiet.
Techno inched forward again. “Wilbur, it’s okay if there’s someone else, I promise I won’t hurt him. But he’s probably been out here for a long time, yeah? Same as you? We need to be able to help him too.”
Wilbur eyed him with eyes blown wide open, searching his face for any hint of a lie. Finding nothing but sincerity, he cautiously sat up, pulling the tarp back to reveal Tommy’s pale, sun-peeled skin.
“Oh,” Techno breathed. His eyes were wide too, his pupils big and black. Wilbur didn’t know what that meant, but it was probably okay. He didn’t look like he was going to hurt Tommy, at the very least.
Tommy stared up at Techno, then back at Wilbur. He tugged on his ragged shirt with a hand covered in blisters. “Wilby?” he questioned, quiet. His little baby fangs barely poked out of his mouth when he spoke.
“How-” Techno began, strained. He cleared his throat. “How old are you, little one?”
Tommy looked at Wilbur to answer for him. Wilbur recognized what he was feeling- newly-developed instincts had overwhelmed him when he was a newborn, and he’d clung to Dream as much as the older vampire had allowed, fearful of anything and everything that wasn’t him. Instincts were overwhelming at first. He remembered Bad saying that it was really common for newborns to feel younger than they physically were.
“He’s, um…” Wilbur thought back. “Two weeks old.”
Techno made a little noise in the back of his throat. Wilbur wrapped his numb arms around his baby brother and buried his face into his hair, just barely allowing room for his eyes to peek up at Techno.
“Tech, Wil, I’m back with the blankets!” Phil called from somewhere in the distance.
Both Wilbur and Tommy flinched. Wilbur pulled away from his death grip on his brother, and Tommy took the opportunity to look up at him again for answers.
“Um, that’s Phil,” he said, as quiet as he could, “he’s nice.”
“Uh, Phil,” Techno said, not turning around.
Wilbur watched as Phil’s head, then his body, popped into view. “What’s up?”
“There’s another fledgling.”
Phil’s eyes widened, and he hurried around to the side of the nest to see for himself. Tommy’s hand gripped Wilbur’s shirt again as he took in the new person.
“Oh, he’s tiny,” Phil whispered. Wilbur looked down at the fluffy-looking blankets draped over his arm. “No more than a few weeks, right?”
Wilbur nodded. Tommy made a noise, and Wilbur noticed he was staring at the blankets.
“Oh, mate, you must be so cold,” Phil cooed, taking one of the blankets off his arm and unfolding it.
Tommy crawled forward, clambering over the side of the nest. He reached for the blanket, whimpering a little.
Phil cooed again, reaching out to scoop Tommy into his arms. Wilbur barely had time to voice his distress at being separated from his brother before he was being scooped out of the nest by a pair of strong hands. He was seated on Techno’s lap and covered with a blanket by Phil, who proceeded to wrap Tommy up in another.
Techno’s hands wrapped around him and rubbed up and down Wilbur’s arms. Wilbur nearly flinched at the sudden increase in temperature before relaxing into it. His shivering started up again at the feeling of the hunter’s warm hands against his freezing skin. When he looked over, Phil was doing the same to Tommy.
It felt… nice. This one little moment of closeness with Techno was more than he’d gotten with Dream the entire six years he’d lived with him. It was more than he’d ever gotten with anyone else except Tommy, and it was warmer than Tommy ever had been. It felt so nice that despite his shivering, he could feel his eyes drooping shut. He barely had time to register that he was being hoisted up onto someone’s hip before they closed for good, and he drifted off to sleep from the gentle rocking motion that came from said person’s brisk footsteps not long after.
.
.
.
Tommy watched with hooded eyes as his brother was loaded into the backseat of a nice-looking car, cradled in warm arms. He’d opened his eyes barely ten minutes ago, expecting to be alone in the dark with Wilbur shivering against him and apologizing for not having any food for him, but had been surprised to see the pink-haired man sitting in front of him instead. It wasn’t bad- he was Tommy Innit, and he wasn’t afraid of anything, after all, though, with how small he was feeling, he couldn’t help but feel scared of some things now.
Then, without warning, he’d been scooped up and placed into the other man’s lap- he couldn’t remember his name, but he seemed really nice- and had the fuzziest blanket in the world wrapped around him, and he’d been carried to the car.
He was being gently bounced in the man’s arms, and he didn’t even try to suppress a pleased coo at the feeling. A warm kiss was pressed against his temple, and then he was being placed in the car next to his brother. The blanket was tucked around him and he was buckled in.
The man shut the door and then went into the front seat with the wheel. Tommy stuck his dirty fingers in his mouth, uncaring at the taste of grit and iron against his tongue, and started chewing. He hadn’t felt this much pain in his teeth since a long long time ago when he didn’t have a toothbrush and got an ouch in his tooth. Dream had roughly yanked it out instead of taking him to a dentist. He remembered bleeding into a napkin for an hour after that, leaned over the sink with a ten year old Wilbur rubbing his back through his crying.
He didn’t like to remember when he lived with Dream. So he stopped thinking about it and started kicking his legs. The chewing eased some of the pain in his teeth, though it was still very much there. He wished he had an ice pack to put against it, like when he hit his head on the pavement and Bad had put an ice pack on it to make it feel better. If it helped that ouch, maybe it could help this one too.
He looked up when he heard cooing from the front seat, his finger-chewing growing faster. The pink-haired man was looking at him through the mirror, a warm smile on his face. If he could, he would have blushed. Instead, he looked down and kicked his legs some more.
The two men started talking. Normally, Tommy would have tried to listen, but he felt so small and tired. He felt so much smaller than he usually was. He was six years old- so, basically a teenager, which was basically a grown-up- but right now he felt much smaller than that. He felt like how he did when he was still using a beaker and learning how to run around without tripping over his own feet. It was weird, but not that bad when he wasn’t alone in the nest with his brother, cold and hungry and small. Now it felt kind of okay, because even if he was hungry and in pain, he wasn’t cold anymore.
The man cleared his throat. “So, what’s your name, little one?”
Any other day, Tommy would have eagerly answered. But right now, he was tired and hungry and Wilby wasn’t awake, and his lips didn’t want to move. He also didn’t want to take his fingers out of his mouth. He looked over at Wilby out of pure instinct, frowning when he remembered he was asleep.
“Too little to talk?” the man guessed. Tommy hummed around his fingers.
“I guess we should get him a teether when we get back,” the pink-haired man said, “I can text Ranboo and ask him to put one in the freezer.”
“Yeah, that’d be good,” the man replied, “we should have some left over from when Tubbo was a fledgling, right?”
“Mhm, box in the attic.”
“How do you even remember that?”
“You made me put them away, you sentimental old man.”
“Ah, right. Wait- who are you calling old?!”
Tommy giggled, drool dribbling out the corners of his mouth. It felt gross, but he didn’t try to stop it. Besides, it’d been awhile since he’d laughed, and the man sounded like a big bird with all his squawking.
Both men looked at him through the mirror. Tommy blinked owlishly at their near-identical smiles and rosy cheeks. He still had a big smile on his own face, so wide it made his cheeks sting. Well- the sun made his cheeks sting. The smile just brought the ouch back again.
He whimpered, all too unhappy to be reminded of the pain in his cheeks. The man cooed sympathetically.
“Poor thing, you must be hurting so much,” he soothed, “it’s okay, we’ll get you fixed back up in no time once we get home.”
Tommy didn’t know what that meant. Home? He didn’t remember his first home, and his only other home had been the coven, but he wasn’t allowed back there because Dream said so. So where else could they be going, if it wasn’t either of those?
He must have looked confused, because the man elaborated. “Our home,” he clarified, smiling, “we’re taking you and your brother there.”
Tommy looked over at Wilbur again. He pointed at his brother, looking back up at the two men expectedly.
“Yep, he’s coming with us,” the man smiled.
Tommy grinned, kicking his legs again. His legs weren’t long enough to kick the seat in front of him, but if he could, he would have.
“Oh, someone’s excited,” he beamed, “we’re gonna get you a nice warm meal, and then you’ll have a bath and get settled down for bed. That sound good, Pumpkin?”
Tommy bounced in his seat. The man laughed, adjusting the mirror until Tommy couldn’t see into it anymore.
“Almost there,” he promised.
The pink-haired man turned a little knob beside him, and suddenly, soft music started playing through the car. He looked up, trying to find the source of the music, only to find that it was coming from all directions. He eventually gave up on his search and settled back into his seat, content to relax to the soothing melody. Tommy looked down at the seat, running his hands over it, only to realize that he wasn’t in a car seat. The few times Bad and George and sometimes Sapnap took him and Wilbur out, he’d been strapped into a car seat, even though he didn’t want to be. It felt weird to not be in one. Wilby hadn’t been in one for a long time, but that was just because they didn’t have two. When he looked over at his older brother, he noticed he wasn’t in a car seat either.
He was about to ask about that with a point and a few garbled attempts at speech when the car suddenly slowed, turning into the drive of a big house. It looked nice and clean, and there were plants all over the yard, and a big metal fence in the back. Two boys were running around out in the front yard, chasing each other. A woman was sitting on the porch in a big swinging chair. It was dark, and Tommy couldn’t see very well in the dark yet like Wilbur could, but there were lights that helped him make out the figures by the house.
The door was opened, and he was being unbuckled and scooped out. He whined at the cold, only quieting when the blanket was tucked back around him. He saw Wilby being picked up too, but he was still asleep. He looked around at everything that was happening. It was quiet, and Tommy wondered if this was a coven for humans.
Suddenly, they were at the front porch, and the man was talking to the woman in a sort of quiet voice. He couldn’t be bothered to make out what they were saying, instead focusing on the woman’s dark hair and matching eyes and her pretty face. She looked down at him, the biggest smile ever on her face.
“Oh my gosh, hi!” she cooed.
Tommy blinked, unsure how he felt about it. He turned to the man, pointing at the woman with the hand that wasn’t currently shoved in his mouth.
The man smiled. “That’s Kristin, she’s my wife.”
Tommy nodded, satisfied. He smiled at her around his fingers, then reached out with both hands. She gasped, still smiling, and scooped him into her arms.
“Ohh, I’ve missed holding babies,” she said, holding him close to her chest. “Ranboo and Tubbo were never small enough for me to hold for very long, and Techno was older when I met him- oh, but you’re just a tiny little thing, aren’t you?” She cooed at him, leaning in to rub her nose against his.
He shrieked with laughter, waving his arms around. His drool-covered hand smacked against her cheek among all the fuss.
“He’s only two weeks turned, according to Techno.”
“Oh my, he really is just a baby. Explains why he’s acting so little.”
“Mhm. My guess is they weren’t treated too kindly at their last place, poor thing looks like he’s never been shown affection in his life.”
“Oh, well that just won’t do, will it?” Kristin cooed at him again. Tommy laughed, oblivious to the weight their conversation held, only that they were talking about him. He didn’t mind- he was soaking up every bit of attention he could get like the driest sponge in the world. “We’ll have to give him lots of cuddles to make up for it.”
The man hummed. “Let’s get him inside, shall we?”
“Phil! Is that the baby Ranboo told me about?!”
Tommy startled, turning in Kristin’s arms to see the two boys running up to greet him. The shorter one was panting and sweating a little bit, and the taller one had his face covered by a mask. His gray eyes were the only thing Tommy could see.
“Yep,” the man- or Phil, according to the boy- smiled at him.
“What’s his name? How old is he? Can I hold him? Ooh! Can we put him in the nest? Please please please, Phil!”
“Alright, alright,” Phil waved his arms out a bit, making a calming motion with his hands, “why don’t we go inside, and I can tell you all about them, hm?”
“Okay!”
The boy ran past him and into the house, disappearing behind the door. The other boy’s eyes crinkled a little, fixed on him, before he followed the first boy.
“The loud one is Tubbo, and the other one is Ranboo,” Phil explained.
Tommy stared at him, a little confused. Did Phil expect him to reply to that?
Luckily for him, he didn’t have to worry himself with the answer to that, because Kristen began toting him into the house not a moment later. Warmth washed over him, not unlike the warmth he’d felt in the car. He felt his muscles untensing and he rested his head on Kristin’s shoulder. She rubbed his back through the blanket.
Kristin hiked him up a little higher on her hip. “Which are we doing first, bath or food?”
Tommy’s tummy grumbled, and both adults let out a laugh.
“Food it is,” Phil said, still chuckling.
“Should we bother with the cup-?”
Phil seemed to study him for a moment, before shaking his head. “No, I don’t think he could drink from the cup without spilling. It’s not completely spill-proof.”
Kristin hummed. “Bottle then?”
“S’pose so.”
“Alright. Actually- why don’t I give the little one a B-A-T-H while you make his bottle?”
“Ooh, yeah, that’s a better idea. You sure you’ve got him?”
“Of course,” Kristin said, smiling. She looked down at Tommy, cooing at him again. “It’s been awhile since I’ve gotten to care for a baby. I’ve got him.”
Phil laughed. “Oi, don’t hog him all to yourself, you hear?”
“Yeah, yeah,” Kristin rolled her eyes. “Alright mister, you ready?”
Tommy didn’t know what he was supposed to be ready for, but he supposed he didn’t mind. He trusted Kristin to not hurt him. He beamed up at her, tongue poking out between his teeth.
She smiled too, and rubbed his back again.
“Alright then, let’s go!”
Tommy smiled. For the first time in his life, he felt truly safe.
.
.
.
When Wilbur woke up, it was to the feeling of warmth and safety.
He was laying down on something soft, a fuzzy blanket draped over his form. For the first time in weeks, he felt warm- no shivering under a thin tarp, no huddling closer to his baby brother to conserve body heat, no hiding from cold bursts of wind and the scrape of dead leaves being whipped into his face- just complete and utter warmth.
He snuggled into the soft surface, wondering what it was. It was softer than any bed he’d ever been on, and it didn’t seem to be covered by a sheet. He peeked open his eyes and was greeted with the back of a sofa, which explained a thing or two. What it didn’t explain was where he was and why he was there.
He sat up, fighting off the wave of dizziness that followed. He heard talking from the next room over and looked up and over the half wall that separated wherever he was from wherever they were. He saw Phil and Techno sitting at a table, with a woman he didn’t recognize sitting across from them. She had Tommy on her lap, and she was holding up a bottle full of a dark crimson liquid. Wilbur’s nose twitched. He could smell the blood from here, fresh and warm, and he felt his mouth water.
Tommy’s hair looked clean and fluffy, if slightly damp. His cheeks were rosy- something that shouldn’t have happened unless there was some kind of heat to make it happen, which meant he’d just come back from somewhere really warm. Vampires didn’t easily blush. Wilbur stared at his baby brother, blinking bemusedly when he saw his content demeanor.
He turned a bit and saw a tall person with short hair leaning against the half wall, slumping over a bit. A head of brown hair just barely peeked over the edge of the wall.
Wilbur debated with himself for a minute over whether he wanted to get up and be with his brother or stay in the warm cocoon, before instincts got the better of him and he stood. He wobbled a bit, slightly dizzy no doubt from a mix of anemia and hunger. He padded into the kitchen, bare feet cold against the tiled floor.
“Ah, Wilbur!” Phil smiled warmly. The woman holding Tommy turned to give him a smile too. Techno nodded vaguely in his direction, grunting in acknowledgment.
Tommy absolutely beamed, pushing the bottle away to reach his arms out for Wilbur. Wilbur took a second to comprehend what was happening before he rushed forward and scooped his little brother into his arms. It was hard with how shaky he was, not to mention the fact that he was on the smaller side and Tommy was pretty heavy, at least to him. Regardless of the faint tremble in his arms at the effort, he hoisted Tommy up onto his hip and gave him a tight squeeze.
“Mith you,” Tommy whispered. Wilbur felt something wet against his shirt and looked down to see a patch of red beginning to stain his collar. Well, at least the shirt was already beyond repair. He wasn’t mad about his baby brother getting a little blood on it too.
“Missed you too, silly,” Wilbur said, hugging him even tighter. Tommy hummed in content, snuggling into the nape of his neck. Wilbur flinched a little. Even after two years, the site of his bite mark still held the reminder of how he’d gotten it- a memory he didn’t much like to recall.
He cleared his throat. “Um… thank you. For looking after him.”
“Of course, mate.”
“Oh, of course. Your brother’s such a sweetheart.”
Wilbur hid a smile into Tommy’s freshly-washed hair. He smelled like the strawberry shampoo George used.
Phil coughed. “Now that you’re up, would you like to take a bath? Or a shower, your choice.”
“Uh, shower please.”
“Of course.”
“I’ll get a blood bag ready for you for when you’re done,” the woman said, standing up from her seat. Wilbur looked up at her, relaxing a bit at her kind smile. “I’m Kristin, by the way- Phil’s wife. It’s nice to meet you properly, Wilbur.”
“Yeah,” Wilbur shifted awkwardly.
“I’m Tubbo!”
Wilbur spun around to see the short brown-haired boy absolutely vibrating with excitement. He looked about Tommy’s age, maybe a bit older. Wilbur didn’t fail to notice the paleness to his skin and the little fangs that poked out of his mouth when he grinned.
“You’re friends with a vampire?” Wilbur asked, looking to Phil for an explanation.
“Tubbo and Ranboo are both vampires- Ranboo’s four years, Tubbo’s three.” Phil’s smile softened a bit. “We took them in, too.”
Wilbur didn’t ignore the “too” in there. Did that imply that Phil had taken him and Tommy in? His head spun, and not just from the anemia.
“You’ve had a long day,” Kristin interrupted, “why don’t you go take a bath? I can go get it started for you, if you’d like.”
“Thank you.”
“Of course, sweetheart.” Kristin placed a gentle hand on his back. It took everything in him not to flinch, even though the contact was soothing.
Phil plucked Tommy from his arms and Wilbur allowed himself to be guided out of the kitchen and up the stairs. He looked around at what he assumed to be Phil and Kristin’s house. It was nice-looking, clean and orderly, except for a few spots. They passed a room with a big TV and a bunch of games scattered around on the floor, and he had to be careful not to trip on any shoes that were dropped on the stairs.
“So,” Kristin began after they were in the washroom, Wilbur seated on the toilet while Kristin prepared the shower for him, “what’s your little brother’s name?”
Wilbur hesitated, but only a little this time. “Tommy.”
“Tommy,” she repeated, smiling, “that’s a good name. Is it short for anything?”
“Tom, but he likes Tommy better.”
“I see. Do you two have parents? Or a sire? Anyone we could contact?”
Wilbur stiffened. “No.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
His mood soured a little, thinking about his previous caregivers. Dream, who barely paid any attention to them when he wasn’t shouting at them for anything they did and abandoned them once Tommy was sired. Sapnap, who antagonized them on the daily. George, who never stepped in when he saw what Dream and Sapnap were doing. Bad, who only cared when he was forced to. His parents, who abandoned them after Tommy was born with asthma and other birth defects.
The Innits and caregivers just did not mix.
“Well then,” Kristin cleared her throat, “you and Tommy are always welcome here. We’d love to take care of you two, if you’d let us. If you have no one to go back to, we’d love for you to stay.”
Wilbur blinked, staring up at her. The rush of venom-filled blood in his ears nearly drowned out the sound of the shower.
“I know it’s a lot to take in, but-”
“Yes!”
Kristin gaped at him, obviously not expecting him to agree so quickly.
“Are you- Wil, are you sure? I know you must have some fear of humans, Phil told me-”
“I’m sure.” Wilbur met her gaze with fire in his eyes. “You took care of Tommy, and you haven’t hurt me. I trust you.”
Kristin smiled, a little bit sadly, but a smile nonetheless. “I hate that that’s your standard for good caregivers,” she said, “but I’d love to be your caregiver, if that’s what you want. I’m happy you trust me.”
“All of you,” Wilbur said, fiddling with his hands. The rush of confidence he’d had not a moment ago fizzled out into a little flame.
A hand settled on his shoulder, warm and grounding.
“Well then, Wilbur, welcome to the Watson family.”
Wilbur looked Kristin in the eyes. The vampire and the human shared a gaze full of nothing but trust and, if Wilbur looked deep enough, maybe a little bit of love.
He gave her a shy smile.
Maybe hunters weren’t so bad after all.