Work Text:
*1*
Wilbur slammed the front door of the house behind him, a loud bang! behind him while he kicked his shoes off. Then, wasting no time, he ran straight for the stairs.
The other kids at school always wondered why Wilbur was always so anxious to get home, hurried even. They thought he didn’t care for school, his friends, and activities. That all he wanted to do was laze around at home, playing video games or watching TV.
But no, it wasn’t that at all. Wilbur had a greater responsibility. A responsibility he found more important than math, science, history, or any other subject he was learning at school.
He turned straight towards a bedroom, quietly opening the door and tiptoeing in.
He heard small cooing, Wilbur melting almost immediately at the noises. He jumped towards the crib at the end of the room gleefully.
Wilbur bent over the rail, cooing at the small child clapping his hands and reaching up for him, blond curls wild and flourished, like a pot of marigolds.
“Hello, Tommy!!” he answered in a high-pitched voice, reaching down. Tommy’s tiny fingers grabbed for his index finger, wrapping around. The child squealed in happiness. Any form of physical touch made him turn into a ball of joy.
“Come here, Toms,” Wilbur spoke through his wide smile, picking up the boy in the sky. He brought the baby closer, nuzzling their noses together, Tommy squealing again with the action.
“I missed you,” Wilbur then murmured, cradling the baby in his arms. Tommy waved his arms excitedly, patting Wilbur’s face and tugging at his shirt. Wilbur chuckled, understanding the notion. He raised the child up slightly, so the boy could hug his arms around his neck and tuck his head under his chin. Wilbur giggled at the blond curls tickling his chin, burying his face in Tommy’s hair and pressing a soft kiss. He began to hum a tune, swaying the child side-to-side.
“Techno’s not home yet,” he finally spoke after a moment of silence, seeing that the child still wasn’t asleep. “And Dad will be late again today. So I have you all to myself!”
“Dada,” a tiny voice squeaked, barely understandable. Still, Wilbur heard it, and he paused his swaying at once.
“What did you say?”
“Dada,” Tommy repeated quietly.
Wilbur pulled the child away slightly, to look at him better. “Did- did you just say your first word, Tommy? Oh- I can’t wait to tell Dad!”
“Dada!” Tommy then shouted more confidently, pointing directly at Wilbur.
Wilbur’s breath hitched, eyes flitting between the finger and himself. He- he couldn’t believe his eyes.
“Did- did you just call me, ‘Dada?’” His voice quavered, tears falling from his eyes.
“Dada.. W-Wilby!” Tommy laughed happily, patting his tiny hands on Wilbur’s wet cheeks.
“Oh, Tommy!” Wilbur cried, kissing the child’s forehead. “You- you really think I’m your dada?”
Tommy continued to laugh, clapping his hands. Wilbur took that as a yes, yes, yes.
He laughed too, pressing his forehead against Tommy’s, tears still continuing to fall.
“Thank you,” he whispered. “I promise to be a better dada than Phil.” He pressed another kiss to his forehead. “Anything for you, Toms.”
—----
*2*
Tommy sat on the floor in front of Wilbur, leaning back while Wilbur reached for the comb lying on the table and brushed his golden curls, running his fingers through after each stroke.
“How was your day at school today, Toms?”
Tommy shrugged, blue eyes bored. He hummed disapprovingly, Wilbur making a noise of questioning.
“Not fun,” he mumbled.
“Why not, dear?” The comb got stuck in a curl, Wilbur putting the comb down and fingering the hair instead. Tommy said the comb hurt when it tried to untangle his hair, but it always felt nice when Wilbur just fingered it himself.
“The teacher won’t let me draw what I want,” he answered with a pouty face.
Wilbur chuckled fondly. “Well, that’s nursery school for you, Toms. Don’t worry, you can always draw with me when you get home.”
“And she took Henry from me today!” he shouted next, quite upset. “So now she has Clementine, and Henry!”
“Oh, you poor sunflower,” he hushed, pressing a kiss to Tommy’s hair. “Wilby will get them back for you. You have my word.”
Tears sprung up in Tommy’s eyes, turning dull blue eyes into wet, sad blue. “And I got bullied today!”
Wilbur gasped, fingers stopping. He wrapped his arms around the boy, tugging him closer.
“Is that true, Tommy?”
Tommy nodded, turning around to face his brother (whom he still thought was his father). “It was Dream again, Wilby! He- he laughed at me when I was sad when Henry was taken away- a-and then he hit me!”
“Oh Toms!” Now Wilbur was growing tears in his eyes. Someone tried to hurt his sunshine? Oh stars, this was almost too much for him to bear. Is this how parents usually feel about their children going to school? “Did he get in trouble, Toms?”
“N-no. He did it in the bathroom. The teacher wasn’t there.”
“Sunshine, you have to tell the teacher when stuff like that happens.”
Tommy shrunk, looking down in guilt. “M’sorry. I didn’t know.”
“It’s okay, Toms.” Wilbur stroked the child’s cheek, making the boy look up at him again. “I’m just glad you told me. Now, I won’t be able to be there tomorrow at school to tell the teacher. Can you be a big man and tell the teacher for me?”
Tommy sniffed, smiling and nodding. “Okay, daddy, I will.”
Wilbur laughed through his tears, lifting up Tommy’s chin to kiss his forehead. Oh, he was so getting in trouble one day for letting this boy think he was dad.
But could he blame him? Tommy needed a real dad figure, a present one. Unlike the real father they had now, who valued money more than his own children. With no mother, Tommy was left to grow up without anyone. So, Wilbur wanted to be that person for Tommy. He’s loved Tommy since the day he saw him as a blob in the pictures. And now he has the chance to give Tommy a picture of a father. He might not be old and wise as a normal father, but at least he can show the love of a father.
—----
*3*
“Wilbur!”
Wilbur yelped in surprise as the blond child came running to him the second he returned home, sobbing harder than he’s ever seen before. The boy ran into his arms, Wilbur hugging him tightly while letting the child bury his face into his shirt.
“What? What?” he answered, panicked, feverishly running his fingers through Tommy’s hair.
“But I don’t believe them, Wilbur! I don’t!”
“Don’t believe what, sunshine?” he hummed in a concerned tone.
The little four-year-old got up on his tippy toes, having trouble matching the height of his twelve-year-old brother. He whispered into his ear, voice shaky with fear.
“Th-they said you aren’t my daddy.”
Wilbur gasped, heart shattering. He was going to be the one to reveal the truth! He was going to do it gently, carefully. Making sure Tommy understood everything. But no, someone revealed it first. Someone who didn’t do it right. Who revealed it either abruptly, or harshly.
“Who told you, Toms?”
“D-Dream!”
Wilbur groaned. He was getting tired of this Dream kid.
“He pushed me at the playground and said that no one loved me, and I said my dad Wilbur loves me, and he laughed and kicked me and said ‘Wilbur isn’t even your father!’ Then he teased me for thinking you were my daddy. But he’s wrong, right Wilby?”
Wilbur held his breath, the hope of the precious child in his hands. Tommy was looking up at him with round eyes full of trust, love, and adoration. But it was about time Tommy learned the truth. He couldn’t keep living a life walking in a lie, no matter how justified.
“Tommy.” Wilbur bent down to eye the child at his level. This was going to be the hardest thing he would ever do. And he wasn’t ready yet! He was going to have Tommy believe for a little longer, before hearts would be broken on both sides. “Tommy, do you remember Phil? You see him once in a while, right?”
Tommy nodded his head, humming a little “Mhm.”
Wilbur sighed again. Then, taking his little brother’s hands in his own, he revealed the truth.
“Tommy, Phil is your actual daddy.”
Tommy froze, tears welling up in his eyes. “You- you mean you’re not my daddy, Wilby?” he squeaked, sounding like the smallest thing in the world.
“Oh, sunshine,” Wilbur whispered, pulling the child close. Tommy began crying on his shoulder, his tiny back shaking with sobs.
“I- I thought you were my daddy!” he cried, hiccupping as he spoke.
“I know Toms, I know,” Wilbur began crying too, pressing kisses to the child’s temple. “But Tommy, Tommy look at me.” He guided Tommy’s head, so that the two were pressing their foreheads together. “I still love you the same, and I will always love you like my son, Tommy. The reason why I let you believe I was your father was because Phil wasn’t there in your life to be that for you. And besides, I was the one raising you this whole time- since when you were a baby and I gave you your formula and when you were a toddler and I bought you toys with my allowance and now you’re a wonderful young boy. And I’m so proud of you, love.”
Tommy sniffed. “You- you really are?”
Wilbur laughed slightly, sniffing too. “Of course, my love. I will always be proud of you, because either way, you trusted me enough to raise you, even though I’m just a little kid like you.”
“You’re not a little kid,” Tommy answered innocently. “You’re a big kid! I wanna be like you one day!”
“Soon enough, dear. Soon enough.” He kissed Tommy’s forehead. “Just don’t grow up too fast,” he added with another laugh.
“I love you- daddy,” Tommy hummed happily, basking in the warmth of the kiss.
Wilbur choked up. “You- you still want to call me daddy?”
“Mhm,” Tommy nodded, kissing Wilbur’s cheek. “I like you more than Phil.”
Tears sprung up in Wilbur’s eyes. And this time, tears of joy. “You know, you’re such an amazing kid, Tommy.”
—----
*4*
Wilbur walked with Tommy through the school hallway, holding the child’s hand. It was parent night at Tommy’s school, where all the parents were invited to see the children’s classrooms, artwork, and gifts they prepared for their parents. Philza had another “meeting” so he couldn’t attend. Still, Wilbur snuck Tommy out of the house, since he now had his license and could drive Tommy to school. Besides, Tommy didn’t want Philza, who knew nothing about what Tommy was studying at school, what Tommy did everyday, or even anything about Tommy’s own personality. He wanted Wilbur, who’s been there with Tommy the whole time, helps him on math homework, peppers him with kisses and reads him a bedtime story every night and gives midnight cuddles on Fridays.
Tommy led Wilbur to his classroom, skipping happily with their fingers intertwined. Wilbur saw Tommy’s teacher, Ms. Nihachu, who greeted him with a warm smile.
“Oh! You must be Tommy’s brother, Wilbur! I’ve heard so much about you.”
Wilbur turned to Tommy with a fond smile on his face, heart fluttering with pride. His little brother was growing up so much. He was so glad he was able to be there for him his entire life.
“Yeah, well Tommy’s a wonderful kid. I’m proud to be his brother.”
Ms. Nihachu smiled wider. “Aw. He really is sweet. We love having him. He is a bit of a ruckus sometimes, but he catches himself when he’s wrong. Is your father here?”
Wilbur shook his head. “No, he’s got a business meeting. I can take Tommy’s stuff for him if you would like me too.”
“Okay! Let me go grab his things then.”
As Ms. Nihachu walked away, Tommy tugged at Wilbur’s hand.
“Wilbur! My friends are over there. Can I go see them?”
Wilbur looked at the direction Tommy pointed too, face brightening at the two kids standing in the corner. One boy had brown, fluffy hair- much like Wilbur’s- and a green flannel shirt. The other boy was taller, had dusty blond hair, and wore a black and white t-shirt.
“Oh! Are those Tubbo and Ranboo?”
“Yeah! Can I go play with them?”
Wilbur chuckled, heart warming at the sight of Tommy having friends. Dream moved to a new school, leaving Sapnap and George with no ringleader. Fourth grade was a good year for Tommy, because he was free to make new friends and not get bullied.
“Of course! Go have fun, Tommy. I’ll be right there with you in a second.”
“Okay!” Then Tommy was off, waving and running to his friends.
Right as Tommy left, Ms. Nihachu came back with a manilla envelope. A knowing smile was on her face, one that Wilbur didn’t understand.
“Here are Tommy’s things!” she cheerily sang, handing the envelope to Wilbur. “I recommend opening it when you get home.”
After giving a thanks to the teacher and receiving the envelope, Wilbur returned to Tommy, who was talking a storm with his friends. He watched from a distance for a while, realizing that Tommy didn’t need him as much. Although it made him sad at times that the child had someone else in his life, it still made him glad that Tommy was growing up. And, to be honest, it was probably the best for him.
Because soon enough, Wilbur wouldn’t be under Philza’s roof anymore. He’ll have to leave for university soon, which means he will be hours away from his sunshine. He wanted to make sure Tommy could socially and emotionally stand alone before he left. So he wouldn’t have to worry about him while he was away.
While Wilbur was still in his thoughts, Tommy found him and his eyes sparked, running to grab Wilbur’s hand and drag him to the group.
“Everyone, this is my brother, Wilbur!” he introduced proudly, as if his brother was the king of the world.
Wilbur got home that night, Tommy asleep in the car. He opened the car door, picking Tommy up and carrying him into the house, envelope still in hand. As he carried him, Tommy’s head laid against his shoulder, the child mumbling slightly as he slept.
Wilbur unlocked the door to the house and walked in, kicking off his shoes and carefully taking Tommy’s off without waking him up. Then he went straight to Tommy’s bedroom, laying the boy in his bed.
Just as Wilbur was about to walk out, Tommy groggily called after him.
“...Wilby?”
Wilbur stopped, turning around.
“Yes, love?”
“You didn’t open the envelope yet, did you?”
Wilbur looked down at the envelope, Tommy’s name scribbled on in the child’s handwriting.
“Not yet. Why, dear?”
“Can you open it with me?” Tommy asked as he grew more awake.
The corner of Wilbur’s lip curved up in a smile. He chuckled, a sound full of love and affection.
“Sure, Toms.”
He sat down beside Tommy on the bed, Tommy scrambling over to see too.
“I worked really hard on it. I hope you like it.”
“But isn’t this supposed to be for Phil?” Wilbur questioned, fingers on the envelope clasp.
“Well, just open it first! I don’t care if you see it first.”
Wilbur ruffled Tommy’s head, the boy squawking in surprise. “Okay.”
Carefully, Wilbur undid the clasps, lifting up the fold and feeling inside for the artwork. He pulled out a whole bunch of drawings, turning on the desk lamp to see them.
He gasped, a hand to his mouth as he looked upon the drawings.
They were… for him. Not Philza.
One of the drawings showed Tommy holding Wilbur’s hand, little stickmen, but still Tommy’s style. The sun was in one corner and a house on the other, green grass below them and a heart in-between. The second drawing showed Wilbur reading books to Tommy on the bed, a caption below that included the prompt, “Thank you daddy for…” in which Tommy’s answer was, “reading books to me at bedtime.”
Finally, there was a hand crafted refrigerator magnet, which was a small framed picture showing Tommy smiling wide, soft hair shining gold in the sun, blue eyes sparkling and smile showing teeth white as snow.
A handwritten note below, followed by a huge amount of hearts.
“For Dadbur”
—----
*5*
“Wilbur, Wilbur, you’ll visit me, right? You’ll call and text and see me, right?”
Tommy stood there worriedly as he watched Wilbur load his things in the car. As Wilbur loaded the final luggage, he closed the trunk, whistling in relief.
“Wil,” Tommy groaned, getting desperate.
Wilbur perked up, softening at seeing his little brother so worried.
“Oh, sunshine, I’m so sorry. I’ve been so busy- I didn’t pay attention.”
Tommy walked closer, then wrapped his arms around Wilbur’s torso, burying his face in his stomach.
“Do you really have to go?” His voice was muffled in Wilbur’s vintage sweater.
Wilbur ran his fingers through the golden curls, impressed by how much they’ve grown. His hands traced down Tommy’s face, then lifted up the child’s chin so Tommy could face him.
A smile snuck up on Wilbur’s face, pride swelling in his heart for his brother.
“Tommy, you have come so far.”
Tommy furrowed his eyebrows. “What the fly is that supposed to mean?”
“Tommy! No swearing, remember?”
“Sorry.”
Wilbur chuckled, bending down to press a kiss to Tommy’s forehead, lingering a bit before letting go.
“Now, you be a good kid, okay? I’ll call you and text you as much as I can. And if you ever need me, I’m here for you, okay?”
“I need your cuddles…” Tommy quietly whispered.
“I know, I know,” Wilbur replied with a pained voice. How would the child cope without him? Tommy needed physical affection. It was in his blood. The thing is, Wilbur was the only other one in the house with physical touch as his love language. Techno was more of a quality time person. Wilbur didn’t know what Philza’s was, but it definitely wasn’t the latter.
Wilbur pecked a kiss at Tommy’s nose, nuzzling it before speaking again.
“I’ll try to come on the weekends, okay darling? Be strong for me, love. I’ll be here again soon.”
Tommy choked up a cry before jumping into Wilbur’s arms, letting the older carry him as he sobbed into his shoulder, wetting the sweater. Wilbur held him there for a few minutes, swaying him side-to-side as he did when Tommy was just an infant.
Then, after crying for a good ten minutes, Tommy got all his tears out. Hiccupping the remainers, he let go and pressed a small kiss at Wilbur’s cheek.
“Bye, dada. I’ll miss you so much.”
Wilbur turned and kissed the boy’s cheek in return.
“I’ll miss you too, Toms. You be good for dada.”
—----
*+1*
Tommy laid, snuggled up against Wilbur’s side as the two watched his favorite childhood movie, Up. Now that Tommy was sixteen, he could leave Philza’s house. He decided to live with Wilbur in his own flat, and the two enjoyed watching movies and having little cuddle times on the couch, to make up for the six years they were under different roofs.
Wilbur ran an absent hand through the boy’s hair. At times, Tommy would droop his eyes, not paying attention to the movie. Instead, his attention would be directed to the soothing motion of the hand, as he leaned into the touch like a cat.
“You greedy gremlin,” Wilbur teased. “Taking up all the love for yourself.”
“Not my fault you give so much,” he mumbled happily.
A fond chuckle, the same one that was always saved for Tommy. “Well what can I say? You’re just so adorable, Toms.”
Tommy groaned, sinking down to lay on Wilbur’s lap, looking up at him. Wilbur almost snickered at the boy’s tomato red cheeks, puffed up like an angry chick.
“Stop it. You’re embarrassing me, Wilby Scoot-Crap.”
Wilbur gasped, hand leaving the child immediately. A whine escaped from Tommy’s mouth as the hand left, Wilbur crossing his arms to refuse giving any more.
“You take that back. You do know, Tommy ‘Innit.’ You still have the same last name as me, despite how much you try to change your name with your online personas.”
“Yeah, well, whatever,” Tommy huffed. “What happened to my personal physical affection assistant?”
“You aren’t getting him back until you apologize.” Wilbur smirked. He really didn’t care, he just liked to tease Tommy by taking away the affection and returning it to him, like a cat with a teaser.
Tommy whined again, muttering a “fine.” Wilbur then returned, scratching the child’s head once again. Tommy purred with the action, which confirmed in Wilbur’s head that yes, he indeed was a cat.
“You’re so clingy, Tommy. You know, since you were a flying baby, you would squeal even if you just grabbed onto my finger.”
“Really?” Tommy seemed genuinely in awe, amazed at their close connection.
“Yeah,” Wilbur answered, deep in thought and no longer teasing. “It was.. adorable, to put it simply.”
Tommy jabbed Wilbur playfully, Wilbur yelping at the poke.
“Stop it. M’not adorable.”
“Says the boy…” Wilbur started, withholding the rest of his sentence.
“The boy who what?” Tommy pouted, and just as Wilbur expected, sat up straight to listen.
“Says the boy.. who is literally a cuddly teddy bear!” Wilbur squealed, grabbing Tommy and holding him tightly in a hug. Tommy squealed in return, the same squeal he would have when he had as an infant. Wilbur nuzzled the child’s cheek, the boy swatting aimlessly at the older.
“My Tommy! My baby baby Tommy! My son, Tommy!”
Tommy stopped swatting, Wilbur still nuzzling him and lost in his own world.
“Wil.”
“Tommy Tommy Tommy!”
“Wil.”
“Sunshine sunflower sundrop!”
“Wil!!”
Wilbur stopped blinking as Tommy looked at him with wet eyes.
“You.. you just called me, ‘son.’”
Wilbur widened his eyes, realizing something as vivid and clear as water itself, but that of which he never paid attention to before.
All this time, Tommy had called him his father. Wilbur had never called Tommy his son.
“Oh Toms- son. I- I didn’t realize- I-” He began choking up tears. Were they of joy or sorrow? “I don’t know what to say- I-”
Tommy stopped the man in his apologizing by engulfing him in a big embrace. He tucked his head under Wilbur’s chin, where he belonged all his life.
“It’s okay. At least you loved me like one. That alone was enough to show me what I was to you.”
Wilbur buried his face in Tommy’s hair, the familiar scent of cotton and summertime. He kissed Tommy’s head, then his nose, then finally at his forehead.
“Tommy Soot. My son, my brother.”