Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Today was the beginning of the end for Wilbur Soot and Tommy Innit.

Of course, neither knew that. However, their lives would entirely change after today, and neither of them could change this fate.

Wilbur Soot was well aware of fate and how cruel it was. He was a vampire. He was turned when he was only fourteen years old when a young dirty blond vampire dug his teeth into his neck. The man's face was covered with a white mask, not that Wilbur would even remember who he was if his face was visible. All Wilbur knew was that one day he was a happy fourteen-year-old, and the next, he was forced into immortality and immeasurably pain.

That was until an older blond vampire found him, saved him, brought him to his home, and nursed him back to health. The man, Philza Minecraft, as he came to know, stayed with him throughout the painful turning. At the time, Wilbur had conflicting feelings. Part of him felt an immense connection to the man, feeling almost close enough to see him as his sire. Another aspect of him was wholly upset, pain-stricken and resentful.

Now he was eighteen and still reasonably upset but more grateful now. If Phil had never saved him, he would never have found Tommy Innit. The blond was a tremendous beacon of hope in Wilbur's life, painfully human and sweet as honey. Tommy was nine when they met, Wilbur being sixteen.

Wilbur had run away from Phil on his sixteenth birthday, not giving the other a chance to bond with him. Wilbur ran until he couldn't anymore, going state to state to escape Phil, and he was scared. He was found in an alley and put into foster care. This is where he met Tommy. They hated each other at first, that is until Tommy came back from a foster home with a fresh black eye- Wilbur almost hurt the woman who brought him back to get information out of her.

Since then, the two became inseparable. Wilbur wouldn't let Tommy be without, and Tommy never minded too much. Sometimes he'd whine and gently push the brunet away, but he'd never tell Wilbur off. Every home they went to, they fought against until they got sent back to the care centre. The foster care employees soon learned that the two had to be together in a home. Otherwise, they'd just wreak havoc.

Wilbur was overprotective of Tommy. He wouldn't let anyone hurt him. He would stand in front of him and defend him if a foster parent decided to get upset, and god forbid they try to hurt Tommy. He'd go wild with instincts, still being a young vampire, and would attack. Of course, this would get them sent back to the centre, but Wilbur never cared. As long as he had Tommy, he'd be okay.

That was why he decided enough was enough when he saw his current foster parent hitting his little brother. They needed to run away, and they needed to leave now.

Wilbur was eighteen when he bought his first car, a white van with space in the back, enough for a whole mattress. He prompted decorated it so, getting a mattress and more pillows and blankets than he and Tommy probably needed. It was instinctual to make a nest out of it, circling the pillows and blankets into a semicircle on the mattress and purring contently at his work.

It was late at night; Tommy and Wilbur's foster parent were fast asleep while Wilbur worked on his escape plan. He decided that the only place he and Tommy could go was back with Philza Minecraft. He knew that he'd probably hurt the older vampire's feelings when he up and left, their semi in tack sire-fledgling bond hanging in the balance, but he had nothing else.

All Wilbur had was Tommy, a broken bond with a man who hadn't even turned him, and hope. So, packing a few essential items- Wash clothes, water jugs, and a first aid kit- he made up his mind. Finally, he snuck his way back into the house they were currently living in and made his way to Tommy's room.

Opening the door, he peaked in and smiled at the sight. His little brother, eleven years old, was calmly sleeping in bed. If it were lighter in the room, he'd see the red hand print on the blond's check or the tear stains on his face. He walked closer, stopping at the edge of the bed and bent down. Lightly, he tapped Tommy's arm.

The blond blinked his bright blue eyes at him, whining sleepily, "'ilbur?" The brunet hummed in response, and the blond smiled, sitting up in bed and turning to look at the brunet. "What's going on?"

Wilbur sighed, "We're leaving. C'mon, sunshine. I have a car all packed; we have to get out of here. It isn't safe anymore. Get up, come with me..."

Wilbur felt nervous as he worried Tommy wouldn't want to leave. He couldn't bare to leave Tommy alone, especially with their awful foster parent, but he couldn't stay either. They both couldn't. 

Tommy pouted, concerned, and asked, "Where would we go, Wilby?" Wilbur softened at the nickname, it being a rare occurrence for Tommy to use it.

"Home bubs, my old home. Remember Phil? We need to go see him, and stay if he'll have us..." Wilbur had no other plan, and that was clear to the eleven-year-old.

Tommy glared as he grabbed his raccoon plush, Rocky, and whispered, "What if he doesn't want us? Why do we have to leave?"

Wilbur sighed as he sat beside the blond on the bed. He gathered the blond into his side, running a free hand through his blond curls. "I don't know, Toms. But we have to go, I can't see you get hurt anymore, and I know Phil would never hurt you like all of our foster parents have... Please, I can't leave you here. Come with me... Run away with me..."

And that was all it took for Tommy to nod and follow Wilbur when he stood up. He shoved his plushie in Wilbur's arms and quickly said, "Wait, can I get something first?"

Wilbur sighed, knowing he'd never be able to say no to Tommy. "Fine, but be quick. And quiet!" He reminded as he pressed a finger to his mouth as a silent warning. Tommy nodded and snuck away, only to return a moment later.

Wilbur blinked in surprise at the soft object in the eleven-year-old's hands. It was Wilbur's old orca plush. Wilbur remembered when Tommy had gotten it with his current plushie and forced it into the seventeen-year-old's arms. The memory flooded back to the brunet.

Wilbur was seventeen and felt far too old for a stuffed animal. Tommy was ten and didn't care. He had won it for Wilbur at a carnival their current foster parents had brought them to. Tommy knew how much Wilbur loved sea animals. Wilbur protested but grabbed the stuffed animal at the ten-year-old's request. "Take it! I got it for you!!"

Wilbur softened, "Thank you, Toms. It's adorable..." Tommy smiled brightly and beamed as bright as the sun.

"You'll keep it forever, yeah?" Tommy asked, trying to make the older promise to keep it. Wilbur couldn't say no.

"Of course, I love it. I love you! I'll keep it forever..."

Tommy forced the stuffed animal into his grasp. "You promised. You said you keep it forever." And how could Wilbur say no to that?

"Of course, how could I forget? Now, let's go. Let's get out of this town, we've got a long way to go from here, and it's best to start early..." Tommy nodded, and they snuck around the house, arriving at the van as quickly as possible.

Wilbur showed off the van before going around and opening the doors in the back of the van, gesturing for Tommy to get in. He did, and the instincts to protect in Wilbur's vampire brain were calmed upon seeing Tommy in the nest he'd made. "You can sleep if you'd like. I'll be right up there if you need anything!" Wilbur pointed to the driver's seat, shown in full view from the back of the van.

Tommy yawned and nodded, hugging his raccoon plushie with both arms as exhaustion crashed into him. He laid down, and Wilbur leant down to press a kiss on the eleven-year-old's forehead, tucking a blanket over him quickly. "Goodnight, Toms."

Tommy smiled with his eyes closed and murmured, "Goo' night, love you..."

Wilbur softened and, before he closed the van doors, said, "I love you too, bug... Have a good night..." Then he promptly closed the doors and headed to the driver's seat. Locking in his seat belt, he sighed. He remembered where Phil lived, though he wasn't quite sure how to get there. There was a tugging on his soul as if it knew the way, and he decided to follow it.

Philza Minecraft? Here I come, I'm coming home...

Chapter Text

It had only been a day, but Wilbur had gotten lost already.

It wasn't his fault! He had no idea where any of the roads in this town went nor how to drive really well. He was eighteen and had only learned to drive a few years ago, and even then, the instructor wasn't all too friendly or excited to be teaching a vampire—traditional old prick.

Tommy had moved from his place on the mattress and decided to clamber up into the passenger seat so he could pester Wilbur. And pester he did.

Tommy was bored, already tired of being in the car, and decided to take that out on Wilbur. Who was not having it, getting more viscerally upset by the minute. He gripped the steering wheel and focused on the road, trying desperately to find a way off the freeway he was driving on for his own sanity. Oh, if only he had GPS, why didn't he bring a GSP or something? Even just a map would do!

Wilbur nearly broke when Tommy whined, for the sixteenth time, "I'm hungry!" Wilbur sighed deeply, trying his best not to yell at the boy. He didn't need Tommy to be angry or upset with him. He passed a sharp glance at the male.

"Tommy, if you ask again, I'm going to throw you out of this moving van. I swear to whatever fucking god is listening." Wilbur said, seething as he looked back to the road as he spoke. The threat was obviously empty, but Tommy huffed and shut his mouth regardless.

He only had so much money and needed to spend it properly. Tommy had already eaten a mere two hours ago; however, the boy's appetite was getting worse by the day. Wilbur briefly wished the male was a vampire; then, he might be easier to feed. Wilbur quickly reprimanded himself for the thought.

The idea of Tommy being a vampire, especially so young, made Wilbur feel ill. He didn't want Tommy to have such a fate. Sure, being a vampire wasn't the worse thing Tommy could be, for example, he could be dead, but Wilbur couldn't stomach the idea of Tommy being similar to him. Not in that kind of way.

He thought about how painful being turned was, considering his turn was not planned and was a fast one. Fast turnings were always more painful on fledglings but easier on sires. He thought about how his life had been flipped on his head once he was bitten and forced into immortality. He had spent so long hating himself, so many days looking into the mirror when his reflection couldn't look back at him. He was reminded of the loss of his humanity every waking day.

He was reminded when he would step into the sunlight, and his skin would bristle uncomfortably but never burn, as the myths stated. The way his instincts flooded his thoughts, especially around Tommy, was another reminder. When he looked into the mirror, and his reflection was missing, the only thing showing in the mirror being his clothes, he was reminded. When his pointed ears would move with his emotions, he was reminded. He was constantly reminded, and if not by himself, someone always made sure to do it for him.

People weren't too fond of vampires. Sure, their reputation had improved in the last three thousand years, but not everyone was as accepting as the newer generation. Some cafés and diners had vampire-friendly foods, also known as food with blood in them, so vampires could feel a scene of normalcy and therefore didn't have to attack random humans in the streets for food. However, not every café or diner had these things, and not every vampire ate at these places.

He belatedly realised that Wilbur probably shouldn't be thinking of blood while driving. He blinked his vision clear, instincts screaming at him for food. It'd been a while since he fed, opting never to attack a human and instead to starve himself if he couldn't go to a vampire-friendly establishment.

Sure, maybe that wasn't healthy, but he didn't care. He never wanted to live this type of life in the first place, so sue him if he punished himself a bit. It's not like he would die immediately from it anyways. The worse that could happen was that he just got a bit hungry.

"Wil?" Tommy asked suddenly, snapping him out of his rush of bad thoughts. Wilbur hummed, too upset and wild with instincts to answer. So, Tommy continued, "You okay?"

Wilbur nodded as he quieted the Bloodfeedfeedfeed in his head, "Yes, Toms. I'll be okay." It was a lie, and he hated it. He hated lying to Tommy, but anything to keep the bright child from worrying about him.

Tommy tilted his head as he brought his knees up to his chest and rested his socked feet- He had taken his shoes off hours ago- on the seat. "You sure? What's up?" Wilbur sighed, Tommy always knew when he was lying. Call it brother's intuition, Wilbur would say.

Wilbur glanced around, carefully swerving into the right lane of the freeway they were on. He finally spotted an exit and headed for it, slowing down when they got closer to the regular roads. "Yes, I'm just hungry, but I don't know where we are, and I need to find a map before we do anything else."

He looked for a gas station because they'd have maps, right? He heard Tommy sigh dramatically from his right side. "Wil! How long has it been...?"

Wilbur curled into himself, wishing to hide away. He had a habit of starving himself, and Tommy knew it too. Then he spotted a gas station and brightened up, "Oh hey, look, a gas station!" He said, trying to distract the blond. It didn't work; it never did. Tommy glared at him as he pulled in and parked the van. He grabbed a bag that was wrapped around his car seat and pulled out his wallet, only stopping when a small hand grabbed his wrist.

He begrudgingly glanced toward Tommy and softened at the sad expression on his face. "Wil..." Tommy said softly, and it nearly broke Wilbur's reprieve instantly. Tommy was never soft. He was brash, loud, and almost a preteen. He was the light of Wilbur's life, the sunlight Wilbur needed like a dying plant.

Wilbur crumbled, sighing, falling into Tommy's manipulation, and he knew it too, "It's... It's only been a w-week..." Tommy gasped at the admission.

Vampires could live very long without blood, but it wasn't healthy. They could survive a month without blood before they started to get weaker than they usually should be. Vampires had altered strength and were faster and more powerful than the typical human. They had enhanced senses. However, these powers and senses would get duller and duller without blood. It just wasn't healthy to go too long without blood, and Wilbur knew that. Tommy knew it too.

"Wilbur!! We- We need to- You need to eat!" Tommy cried as Wilbur opened his wallet with a shrug. He looked at the money instead; he couldn't bare the hurt look in Tommy's eyes any longer. There was $100 in his wallet. It wasn't everything he had, no, he'd spent years saving up just in case the two had to run away and had saved every dollar from the crappy dead-end jobs he'd had. He had far more in his bag and in credit cards.

He looked over at Tommy when the younger tugged on his wrist. "Wilbur!!" Wilbur sighed loudly, reached over, set the money in his lap, and put his hands on Tommy's shoulders. They made eye contact, and Wilbur felt his dead heartstrings being pulled on by the concern in Tommy's bright blue eyes.

"I will. Soon, okay? We- I just need to get us out of this town. Okay?" Wilbur said softly, trying to calm his little brother down. Tommy glared at him, anger very apparent over his features.

"Promise me!!" Tommy cried, a fierce determination in his bright blue eyes. They were oceans of emotion, so easy to read. They were so painful human, Wilbur thought he could stare into them forever. Never change, he thought with fondness.

Wilbur would always crumble under those eyes. "Of course, I promise. I promise, sunshine... Now c'mon, let's get a map. Okay?"

Tommy stared at him for a moment, trying to see if Wilbur was being honest. He was, or at least he hoped he was, and that was enough for Tommy. "Fine, but only if I get to grab a snack for you in here."

Wilbur wilted slightly, but Tommy pointed to a sign on the door before he could say anything. Looking over, Wilbur read it aloud, "Vampire Friendly Establishment!" He blinked in surprise, he'd never seen a gas station that appealed to vampires. He hummed in awe and heard Tommy giggle from beside him.

He glanced over and rolled his eyes, "Fine, c'mon then." Tommy cheered and got out of the van, Wilbur following after as he heard both doors slam shut.

They walked in, Wilbur immediately looking for a map and Tommy running off to a section in the back of the store. A sign hanging from above told Wilbur what items were there, "Vampire food." Wilbur rolled his eyes. What are we to you, animals?

He ignored his bristling emotions and kept looking, avoiding the watchful eyes of the store clerk. He was probably watching him because he was a vampire, which was typically why others stared at him, Wilbur thought as he strode around. Finally, he found a map and made his way to Tommy, who happy slammed a pastry into his free hand at his arrival.

The brunet looked down at it; it was a croissant with vanilla and blood inside. It was probably odd to have such a sweet food mixed with blood, however, it did silence the fog of emotions in the brunet's vampiric head. He glanced up, met Tommy's hopeful gaze, and smiled until the blond handed him another sweet. This one was clearly for humans. It was clear that Tommy wasn't really asking for the treat, moreso demanding it.

"Really?" Wilbur sighed as he eyed the strawberry-flavoured pastry. Tommy nodded, gaze still hopefully. The pastry was similar to Wilbur's, minus the blood and vanilla, instead filling with strawberry jam.

"Please, Wil!! I'm still hungry!!" Tommy pleaded, and Wilbur was reminded of the hours of driving with Tommy whining about wanting a snack. He sighed, he didn't want to deal with that again. He gave in, shoulders slumping slight, and Tommy brightened up.

"Fine, you can get it. But that's it!!" Wilbur said as he shoved the sweet at Tommy, who greedily grabbed it and smiled.

He wrapped his arms around Wilbur and said, "Thank you!!!" Wilbur hummed as he hugged the other back, enjoying the buzz of instincts that came with hugging his little brother. Lovelovelovelove, they cried as he buried his face into soft blond locks.

"You're welcome, dear. Now, can we please get back to getting out of this shithole town?" Wilbur asked as he pulled back, ignoring the pang of sad instincts at the loss of contact. Tommy nodded wildly, and they walked to the front to pay.

Tommy glanced around while Wilbur paid for the map and the sweets, rocking back and forth on his feet impatiently. Soon enough, everything was put in a bag, and they could leave. Tommy rushed to the van and hopped into the passenger seat, slamming the car door behind him.

Wilbur joined a few moments after the bright blond, and Tommy laughed, "Slowpoke! You're getting old!!"

Wilbur glared at him as he turned the key, starting the car. "No, I'm not. You're just a gremlin child with far too much energy!!" Wilbur glared harder when the blond laughed and ignored him, repeatedly calling him old. "Ugh, just shut up and eat your snack already. Then we can finally get out of here..."

Wilbur grabbed his packaged pastry and opened it, opening the map as well. Phil lived a few states away from their current one. Wilbur knew because when he'd told the foster care employees where he'd come from, they'd rambled about the distance. They also found out about his dead family tree, no family members were left alive to be brought back to. His family had died alongside his humanity, and he often found himself wishing he could've joined them.

Finding a good route out, Wilbur drew along it with a marker from his backpack, then put the map down and finished his food. The haze and hunger had subsided enough for him to focus. His instincts were calmed by the blood now invading his system.

"Alright, you ready to get back on the road?" Wilbur asked as he turned back to eye Tommy. Wilbur stopped abruptly at the sight, stifling a giggle.

Tommy had crumbs on the corners of his mouth and strawberry jam smeared all over his cheek. Licking his thumb, Wilbur laughed and leaned over to clean the mess. Tommy protested and whined at him, "Gross! Gross! Get away!!"

Wilbur rolled his eyes as he cleaned the strawberry jam from Tommy's face. "Well, if you didn't eat like it was gonna be your last meal, I wouldn't have to clean you up. Jesus, use a napkin next time!"

Tommy rolled his eyes playfully, "How about you use a napkin next time!!" Wilbur rolled his eyes as well and sat back in his seat. "And to answer your question, yes, I am. Let's leave, please!!"

Wilbur nodded, "Alright, get your seatbelt on. Gremlin child." Tommy glared but quickly clicked his seatbelt in place, Wilbur following after him.

"I'm not a child. I'm the biggest man alive." Tommy said, proudly slapping a hand over his chest and smirking.

Wilbur blinked down at him, "You're literally eleven." Tommy flushed in embarrassment, waving his hands at Wilbur when the brunet laughed at him.

"Shut the fuck up!! Just drive, you bitch!!" Tommy said as he crossed his arms and pouted to himself. Wilbur couldn't help the purr that rose up in him at the cute sight. Tommy glared at him, trying to look intimidating, but it only succeeded in making him look like an angry kitten.

Wilbur's black-slitted pupils expanded at the attempt, making the blond stutter and glare harder. "Oh darling, my baby brother, you can't look scary even when you try..." Wilbur purred as his instincts screamed, Babylovelovelove!

Tommy squawked at him, "Stop it!!! I am very scary!! Stop!!!" It only made the rumbling in Wilbur's chest grow louder, and Tommy groaned as he put his head in his hands. Wilbur laughed and looked away, attempting to quiet his instincts so he could focus.

Eventually, the two calmed down, and Wilbur sighed, settling his hands on the steering wheel. He backed out of the parking spot and turned back onto the road, heading for the freeway once again. Then he started on the path out, reminding himself of the route he'd drawn out.

They weren't lost, bored or hungry anymore. Now the journey could really begin.

Chapter Text

The sun barely interrupted Wilbur and Tommy's sleep in the back of the van. The light showed through the windows, but there weren't windows in the back end. So, it meant that sometimes they slept in, but neither really cared. They had no deadline or specific time they needed to awaken.

The mattress in the back of the van wasn't all too comfortable, but the nest of pillow and blankets made up for it slightly. It also calmed the buzz of instincts in Wilbur's vampiric mind, having his brother so close and therefore safe in his grasp. Tommy didn't mind either, content to grumble into Wilbur's chest when he was pulled into an embrace every night.

Wilbur always woke up first, slowly too. He enjoyed being able to wake slowly, and he'd never gotten that back home. He'd constantly be awoken by screaming or a grumble as his door was slammed open by foster families. He never had a good track record of being kind, so their past families didn't bother either.

However, with Tommy wrapped around him, he started to enjoy the morning. He liked that he fell asleep after Tommy and woke up before him. It ensured the boy's safety and made the possessive monster in Wilbur's chest happy.

Plus, watching Tommy grumble and glare when waking up was an added bonus. He was incredibly clingy in the mornings but hated every noise, movement or acknowledgement of his existence. Wilbur was similar from time to time. Though, he was never tired like the boy was. He didn't need to sleep, so therefore he didn't feel tired. He was a dead man walking, after all.

After they woke up, they would change clothes. They only a few, which Wilbur packed before he had woken Tommy up the night they left. Tommy had a white and red baseball tee with ripped black jeans for one outfit, a bright red sweater with blue jeans and a pale red T-Shirt and grey sweats for pajamas. He also had a dark red hoodie with white accents. He only had one pair of shoes, which he barely wore. They were red and white and worn out.

Wilbur had far fewer choices than Tommy. He had a white striped long sleeve shirt, the top was yellow, and halfway down the yellow was sudden teal, all separated by the white strips. He had dusty brown-black ripped jeans. That was one outfit; his other was very similar. He had a yellow sweater with a faux white button-up collar at the top. His pajamas were basic, too, a yellow long sleeve shirt and comfortable black pants. He also only had one pair of shoes, brown boots that were practically falling apart by the second.

They changed their clothes as often as possible, and Wilbur would drive around for hours to find a Laundromat when they started to smell. They'd clean them there and return on the road mere hours later. It wasn't the best, and Wilbur hated paying for something so trivial, but he couldn't do much about it. The van didn't have a washer or dryer.

The van also didn't have a bathroom, so they'd constantly be stopping at pit stops along the freeway to use the toilets there. As for showering, it was more complicated. Before running away, Wilbur used to pay to go to gyms.

He went to let out anger. He didn't need to get stronger, he was always inhumanly strong. But was he happy that he never stopped paying for those memberships- Too forgetful to end his membership when he stopped going- because now they could go into gyms and shower. They only had a few options, considering not every gym was the same company Wilbur had gone to, but it was better than never showering.

As for food and water, that was less routine. They filled gallon water bottles at grocery stores and grabbed food that didn't need to be heated. Most of it was for Tommy since Wilbur didn't need to eat human food anymore. However, they often went to vampire-friendly diners when Wilbur's body craved blood, which is precisely where they were currently.

The two were sat in a booth at a- Frankly adorable- diner in a state just out of their old one. It was warm inside, a good thing too because it was a cold autumn day. The walls were striped with white and red, and it seemed red was the primary accent colour of this specific diner. Cute roses were decorating the big windows in the front and the rectangular tables and walls.

Wilbur enjoyed the calm energy of diners; they were far better than fast food joints full of loud, obnoxious noise. There weren't too many people in this diner, a shame, really. They deserved more business, Wilbur thought as he glanced around before turning back to his menu.

He already knew what he would get, so he was just looking for something to do. Soon enough, a young waitress came up and smiled at the two. As they put down their menus, she spoke. "Hello, I'm Cristina, and I'll be your server today! Can I get you two started with a drink?"

Tommy looked over at Wilbur, who nodded and smiled, "Yeah, I'll just get a water, and he'll have-"

Tommy cut him off, "A strawberry milkshake!" He looked at the brunette before glancing at Wilbur hopefully.

He sighed, "Really?" Tommy nodded wildly, and Wilbur rolled his eyes, "A strawberry milkshake for him, please..."

Tommy beamed, and the waitress laughed as she wrote it down on her list, "Sure, and are you ready to order or do you need a minute?"

It was Wilbur's turn to look at Tommy, who nodded quickly at him. He told her his order, a vampire-specific cheeseburger and a plate of french toast for Tommy. She took their orders and walked away, leaving the brothers to make small talk about the diner. After a good ten minutes, she returned with their drinks and then thirty minutes later with their meals.

Tommy's french toast had blueberries and strawberries and a side of sausages and eggs, while Wilbur's had blood, of course, and fries. It always felt weird to eat human food again because he didn't need to, but it wasn't like it'd hurt him. So he liked pretending to be human once again, even though he very much wasn't.

Cristina occasionally checked up on them and giggled at the mess on Tommy's face when she did. He'd always blush with embarrassment and frantically wipe his face, grumbling when Wilbur would laugh and joke with the waitress before she walked away. Eventually, they finished their food, tipped, and left.

Walking back to their van, Wilbur felt like someone was watching them. A part of him freaked out, but he stepped closer to Tommy and forced himself to relax. People were probably just watching him because he was an adult vampire leading a human child to a white windowless van.

Wow, that sounds awful... Wilbur thought belatedly and almost laughed at his erratic mind. He always was a big worry-wort. Tommy would be fine. They'd be fine. That's all Wilbur had to tell himself as he clambered into bed after Tommy.

"Wil!" Tommy cried as Wilbur attacked him in an embrace, tackling the blond and promptly flopping them on the bed.

"Tom!" Wilbur mocked as he pulled the kid closer to his chest. The pillows and blankets shifted around them as Wilbur and Tommy switched positions. Wilbur lay in the middle of the nest of pillows and blankets while Tommy flopped face down onto the brunet's chest. Tommy grumbled as Wilbur pulled blankets over them, nearly letting them cover Tommy completely.

"You're a dickhead." Tommy complained as he nuzzled into Wilbur and wrapped his hands around the brunet. Wilbur's pupils expanded at the affection, and he started to purr low in his chest.

Tommy huffed when he felt moreso than heard the soft purring, "You're also a sap. Go to bed, you freak." Wilbur laughed at the insult.

He placed one hand in the mess of Tommy's blond locks and one on his shoulder, rubbing into it with his thumb as his purring increased in volume. Tommy groaned. "Gross vampire. You're evil." Wilbur knew that Tommy didn't mean it, but a part of him felt a pang at the words.

Tommy noticed how the purrs died down and softly rolled his eyes. "Okay, fine, you're not a gross evil vampire. You are a sticky big brother, though..."

Tommy knew Wilbur was sensitive about being a vampire and yelled at himself for hurting his brother's feelings with the playful insult. However, Wilbur's purring started up way louder than before a mere second later, and Tommy stopped the train of self-hatred.

"Yeah, yeah. Love you too, you little shit..." Wilbur mumbled as he buried his face into the blond's hair. He grabbed at the pillows and propped his head up enough so he could stay near Tommy's hair and closed his eyes, Tommy following not long after.

A moment later, Tommy would mumble, "Love you too, Wil," before he fell asleep. Wilbur would smile into the darkness, his paranoia from a few minutes ago being entirely forgotten by the instincts buzzing in his head.

They would be fine. Tommy would be fine. As long as he stayed by Wilbur, he would be fine...

Chapter Text

Tommy was easily bored. Everyone who met Tommy could tell you that within one day of meeting the kid. He was energetic and bright, couldn't sit still to save his life, and needed to run around and play often. Even now, he still had to do it. Which is why Wilbur wasn't surprised when Tommy started suggesting that they should do more than just sit in the van the whole trip.

Which is why they started sightseeing and hiking.

Tommy had gotten incredibly antsy one day while Wilbur was busy driving through a large town. Tommy had been complaining, wanting to get up and look around, but Wilbur just wanted to get to Phil's as fast as possible.

"Willl!!! My legs hurt, I'm bored!! I wanna get outta the vannn!!!" Tommy whined with the grace of a toddler throwing a temper tantrum. Wilbur groaned and resisted the urge to slam his head into the steering wheel.

Wilbur sighed, glancing over at the blond sternly. "Tommy," he warned, and Tommy scowled right back.

"Wilbur!! Please!! This trip won't be fun if you don't let me out, I will just complain the whole way. I wanna hike! And- And see cool things!!!" Tommy whined as he looked out the car window. He gasped and pointed at a store that was in the distance. "Look! There's a visitor centre, we could go there and see if they have maps of cool shit! Please, Wilbur!!"

Wilbur groaned and opened his mouth as the visitor centre slowly came closer. Tommy was lucky there was so much traffic on this road; he still had time to convince Wilbur. Time to pull out the big guns, he thought.

He put his best puppy dog eyes on and pleaded with the softest, sweetest voice ever, "Please, Wilby..." He could practically see Wilbur crack under his plea, the corners of his mouth snapping up before he forced them back down.

He sighed, and Tommy knew he had won before Wilbur even said anything, "Fine, Tommy, but only because I don't wanna deal with your whining the whole trip." Wilbur said with a grimace that Tommy knew was completely fake.

Tommy fist-bumped the air and exclaimed, "Yes!! Thank you!!" The traffic started to move, and Wilbur turned back to the road, heading for the visitor centre instead of straight ahead begrudgingly. He couldn't say no to Tommy.

The bright sun streamed through the van's window, and Wilbur knew it would be a bad day.

His body was sore, not only from yesterday when he and Tommy had been hiking but also from the general dull ache in his bones. His body and mind decided that today they wouldn't work properly, and Wilbur could already feel the pull of depression dragging him into the bed- If it could even be called that.

It had been weeks since Tommy suggested they do some sightseeing and hiking while on their trip, and they had been doing just that. It hurt, making their unused muscles ache, but Wilbur couldn't say he regretted his decision. They both had fun and getting some sun was good for both of them, even if it hurt Wilbur when he was in it for too long.

Wilbur blinked hard, trying to jump-start his body. They had more hiking to do today, he couldn't have a bad day. Bad days meant being tied to the bed as if the world had a physical hold on him. Bad days meant seeing a worried Tommy tug him around. Bad days meant bad thoughts and possessive yet selfish actions.

He had his fair share of bad days, and even though Tommy made them better, they never went away. When he was depressed, his thoughts only got worse. He was a selfish man, and even though part of him didn't deem him worthy, he needed Tommy. He was possessive and jealous, he needed Tommy all to himself. He hated these thoughts because he knew Tommy wasn't an object. His instincts and brain didn't care.

They wanted Tommy, needed his bright energy and human smile. They needed his kind, beautiful baby blue eyes and sweet words. They need to wrap him up in a tight hold, ensuring his safety by keeping the world away from him. No one else could have him. He was Wilbur's, and Wilbur was Tommy's.

He hated that he was so selfish to need something like that, to keep others away from Tommy. He was a selfish, jealous man, and bad days just made him worse. Tommy knew this, but he didn't care. Wilbur wished he did. It wasn't healthy to isolate Tommy like he did when depressed. He wished Tommy hated him.

But when Tommy shifted under his protective hold in the bed, he was snapped back to reality. Tommy didn't hate him, couldn't. They were dependent on each other, they had no one else. Tommy needed Wilbur just as Wilbur needed Tommy. He knew it when Tommy blinked sleepily at him and smiled. He was so human that it hurt.

"Morning, Wil!" The blond yawned as he stretched out his legs in the bed. Wilbur's brain fired up with instincts at the cute, sleepy expression. MineMineMine, it stated.

Wilbur hummed, too scared to let himself speak and Tommy understood. He knew the possessive monster inside Wilbur and knew it was a bad day. He hummed sadly, knowing Wilbur didn't talk too much when he was distressed. "Bad day?" He asked, even though he could tell it was. Wilbur nodded nonetheless.

The blond hummed sadly again. "You still up for hiking? Because we don't have to, we can stay here if ya want..." Tommy looked upset, but Wilbur knew that if he couldn't get up, Tommy would stay.

They did this often, lay in bed while Tommy provided the sad vampire with kind words, a grounding presence and a weight on top of his chest. It helped a lot, and Wilbur knew that if that's what he needed, Tommy would give it to him. However, as selfish as he was, he was also guilty. He hated isolating Tommy, hating seeing him upset. He knew Tommy was excited about this particular hike, and he couldn't destroy that no matter how bad he felt.

"No, it's alright. It's not that bad, we can still go hiking. Fine by me," he said as he smiled down at the male. Tommy brightened at him. That bright smile could warm even the coldest of hearts, dead or alive. Wilbur wondered briefly if he could even brighten Technoblade's cold, undead heart.

"Okay! Then let's go!!" He called as he sat up, scrambling into the van's passenger seat and buckling himself in. Wilbur felt cold without Tommy, even though he was cold enough as it was with being a vampire after all.

He grumbled and got up, slowly finding his way into the driver's seat and saying, "Alright, let's go..."

Tommy made a grave mistake. He'd left Wilbur in the woods. He left Wilbur, all alone, when he knew Wilbur was having a bad day. He would be in so much trouble when the brunet caught up with him.

He just wanted to see more, and you couldn't blame him- Wilbur could. He was going so slow! Tommy couldn't stand it, so he ran further up the trail and left Wilbur to follow after him. Wilbur could easily catch up, so he didn't think too much of it.

That was until he fell off a large rock and scraped his knee, trying to scramble back up to the safety of the rock ledge. He succeeded, but he knew the smell of blood would bring Wilbur running. He held his knee as if that would stop the smell from reaching the vampire and hissed in pain.

In an instant, Wilbur was at his side, fretting over him. He was lucky they grabbed some hiking gear, especially their first aid kit, before starting this hike. Wilbur moved Tommy's hand and instantly began to speak, "Oh, Tommy! Are you okay?"

Tommy turned away sheepishly and nodded. "Yes, Wil. I'm alright! It's just my knee..." Wilbur glowered at him, and he knew he was in trouble. Not only had he left Wilbur to his possessive, dark thoughts, but he'd hurt himself in the process. He'd probably never be let out of Wilbur's protection ever again, not that he really cared.

"Tommy! This is exactly why you shouldn't have run away from me! Now, look what you've done, oh my poor baby..." Wilbur exclaimed as he brought the first aid kit out of his backpack, grabbing gauze, a water bottle, a washcloth, antibiotic ointment and bandages. Tommy huffed but said nothing else as Wilbur started to wipe the blood away from his knee.

The brunet brushed dirt and debris from the wound, washing the sore with the water and washcloth before grabbing the antibiotic ointment. He applied it slowly, trying not to hurt Tommy more as he whispered out apologies. Then he wrapped the wound and put everything away. Tommy knew a lecture was approaching as he saw Wilbur turn back to him.

"Tommy, you should've stayed with me. Then this wouldn't have happened! You know I hate it when you're not right by my side, especially on bad days. I am responsible for you, you can't just run off like that. What if you got more hurt than this?" Tommy glared, his pouting turning to anger.

"You could've easier run after me! You have inhuman speed, Wil! What does it even matter? I was just having fun..." Wilbur glared at this. He looked appalled, and Tommy knew he had said the wrong thing.

"What does it matter- I- Tommy?! It matters because you matter to me, Tommy! You're all I have, and I can't let you get hurt or worse. What would I do then? You can't act recklessly like that, I won't let anyone or anything hurt you, and when you run off like that, I can't look after you!" Tommy huffed, he was getting angrier at the way Wilbur was treating him. It was like Wilbur saw Tommy as a child, and Tommy hated that.

He had to grow up all on his own, he was mature for his age. He didn't need anyone acting or treating him like he was "too young to understand" because he wasn't. He knew far more things than he should've at his age, he wasn't a child. Sure, maybe literally he was, but mentally he was much older.

"I'm not a baby, Wilbur! I can take care of myself!! You don't need to look after me!" Tommy exclaimed, and Wilbur blinked at him in both shock and anger.

"No, you can't! You're just a kid, Tommy! You still need guidance and someone to take care of you! God, you act like a five-year-old! Why are you mad at me for trying to ensure your safety?!" Tommy froze, blinking angrily, and Wilbur knew he'd gone too far.

Tommy had told him when they were in foster care that he hated when people called him a child or said he was younger than he was. It made him feel stupid. Foster parents had always done this to him, belittling him and making him seem stupid because of his age. It hurt Tommy because he knew better. He was young, sure, but his mind was well beyond his years.

Wilbur backtracked, "No, that's not what I meant-" But it was too late.

"Fuck off. I'm going back to the car. Come back when you don't wanna be a bitch anymore." Tommy said as he got up and walked away. Wilbur just stood there, watching him.

"Fuck." He mumbled as he saw Tommy walk out of view.

He'd messed up. His head buzzed with bad thoughts, some at Tommy leaving his side again but most aimed at himself. His thoughts screamed at him to jump off the rocks behind him, fall down the hill filled with sharp stones, and have them dig into his skin and crack his undead bones. It's not like it'd kill him, he couldn't be killed via that method, but he wished it could.

Oh, why'd Tommy leave him alone with his thoughts? That was such a bad idea. The last time he did that, before today, he'd taken a razor to his pale flesh and didn't stop until he passed out. Though, that was nearly a year ago.

He sighed, walking in the same direction as Tommy as his thoughts worsened. He worried about Tommy returning to the van, paranoia flooding his senses, and urged himself to go faster.

He worried about Tommy tripping and making his scraped knee bleed again. What if he took a wrong turn and fell somewhere? What if someone was just waiting for the two to split up, just waiting in the woods to get Tommy alone? What if someone got to Tommy before him? He wouldn't allow that, he'd tear them to shreds if they even thought of touching a hair on his precious Tommy's head.

He growled now but forced himself to relax. Tommy wouldn't be in the mood to deal with his possessiveness tonight, not after he fucked up so badly a minute ago. He sighed again as he returned to where he'd parked the van, happy to see Tommy in the passenger seat.

Tommy glanced at him but glared and looked away upon making eye contact. Wilbur sighed as he went forward, ignoring how his heart hurt at the action. He got into the car and snapped his jaw shut, knowing that Tommy wouldn't talk to him even if he tried to apologize.

He was stubborn, he needed time to cool down when angry. Wilbur would give that to him, despite how his instincts yelled at him to fix the sad but angry look on his little brother's face. Now's not the time, he needs space. He told himself as he started the car up, deciding to get back onto the road as his thoughts clouded his head.

Chapter Text

The drive to Phil's was silent. Far too quiet, way different than it had been before they fought- Wilbur hated when they would fight. Tommy always gave him the silent treatment, and he hated being alone with his bad thoughts.

Before they had fought, the car was alive with sound. There had been music playing, anything and everything Wilbur played Tommy danced to, and there was talking. They would sing together on songs they knew, even on songs they didn't, and they'd talk in between. They'd point out all the sights and play car road trip games like I spy.

However, there was none of that now. Just Wilbur alone with his thoughts because it's all Tommy knew how to do to make the other apologize. It was maybe a bit cruel, considering how bad Tommy knew Wilbur's thoughts could get, but he probably wasn't thinking of that. Neither was Wilbur, to be fair.

All Wilbur's cruel mind could think about was how to apologize to Tommy. He knew he'd overstepped, but he was just worried for him. How could he tell him that without making it worse? Just apologize, Soot, a small voice in the back of his head told him. Ordered him too, really.

He felt off like something was wrong. Though Wilbur assumed that was just the paranoia speaking, surely. The idea of a silent Tommy always made paranoia rumble through his anxiety-driven mind. They both hated silence, so all things considered, it made sense. He was used to hearing Tommy all the time, his sharp voice cutting through his bad ideas like a knife that Wilbur was always grateful for.

However, there was none of that here. Not until he apologizes. The problem is that he doesn't know how to. He doesn't know how to show Tommy that he knows he's a smart kid but that he just wants to protect him. He knew Tommy was stupidly brilliant for his age, trauma made you seem that way, and he knew it all too well. Despite that, Tommy is still a child.

He still needs adult supervision and someone to care for him like he was forced to do for himself at such a young age. He needed someone to love him like he wasn't as a kid because he's still a kid, and Wilbur is more than happy to oblige and give freely. Tommy is stubborn, though, and doesn't like to take even when there's no debt to be repaid because all he knows is that debts are always repaid.

It's night now. He and Tommy should be finding a place to park and sleep. Which is what Wilbur is looking for now as he contemplates how to apologize. He'll do it as soon as he parks, and then that nasty feeling of anxiety and paranoia will leave. Then they'll be alright again, and Wilbur won't have to worry about Tommy hating him like his mind so happily tells him he would.

They stumble upon a small town, and Wilbur parks the van in the nearest parking lot, not caring whether he is allowed to park there. Once the van rumbles to silence, Tommy seems to get the idea and hastily crawls into the back. Wilbur waits for him to change into his pyjamas because it's routine at this point and follows soon after, with Tommy turning around so he could change too.

It's still far too silent. So, while Tommy's back is turned and Wilbur finishes getting dressed, Wilbur stumbles over and enraptures Tommy in a tight hug. The male yelps at the sudden touch and tries to escape but stops when Wilbur speaks, "I'm sorry, Tommy..."

Tommy freezes, and a questioning sound makes its way out of his throat. Wilbur's arms are wrapped tightly around Tommy's waist, his head is on Tommy's shoulder and far too close to his neck than it probably should be. Belatedly Tommy realizes that he should be scared.

Wilbur is a vampire. He can easily bite into Tommy's soft neck and drain him of all the precious blood that keeps him stable. Wilbur wasn't buff, but he wasn't weak by any means. He could easily overpower Tommy because of his inhuman strength. Wilbur can easily kill or turn Tommy into anyone's worse nightmare, a walking corpse.

Tommy should be terrified.

However, he couldn't bring himself to feel anything but the buzz of the touch lighting his body up. He needs this, needs Wilbur to apologize and to wrap him up protectively. He needs Wilbur's possessiveness and protection more than Wilbur even realizes. He can't bring himself to be scared, to do anything but melt in Wilbur's hold.

Wilbur continues to speak, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to call you a five-year-old. I know you're so much smarter than that. I was just worried about you, and you know how I am on bad days..." It's not an excuse, but Tommy rolls his eyes regardless. "I shouldn't have said what I said. You are the brightest, smartest person I know. You're too clever for your own good..."

Wilbur says it like he's proud, and Tommy can't help but smile at the praise and melt further in Wilbur's hold. His back pressed up to Wilbur's chest, and he half wishes he could feel the male's heartbeat. Wilbur continues when Tommy says nothing, "I just want to be there for you, to protect you. You're all I have, Tommy, my little brother, and I have to take care of you, no matter how smart you are..."

Tommy sighs softly, and Wilbur knows he's won. "You're a bitch," Tommy mutters, no ill-intent behind the words, so Wilbur laughs airily. "I mean it, Soot, you're a sappy, stupid bitch, and I hate you."

Even though his words are harsh, Tommy turns around to bury his face in Wilbur's chest softly. He huffs air out and smiles despite himself. Wilbur runs a hand through his messy curls, pressing the blond impossibly closer in a tight, possessive hold. He should worry about that possessive hold, that possessive side of Wilbur.

He doesn't.

Wilbur smiles down at him, "Yes, I am... How will you ever forgive me, sunshine...?" Wilbur plays into the faux words, acting hurt even though he smiles so wildly where Tommy can't see him.

Tommy rolls his eyes, "Don't know if I ever will, unless..." He grins with mischief and pulls away to smirk at Wilbur, who looks down nervously. "Unless you get me something special tomorrow!" The older huffs a sigh and looks down disapprovingly, so Tommy pouts.

Guilt-tripping. Tommy was reasonably good at it, and he always got to Wilbur. Wilbur couldn't say no to Tommy, and he knew it. "Wilby... Please, otherwise, I might not ever forgive you..."

Little shit... Wilbur thinks as he shakes his head. He sighs and says, "You're an awful little gremlin, but fine. Now can we sleep? I'm tired and want to snuggle with my little brother."

Tommy giggles, face red from slight embarrassment and nods into Wilbur's chest before entirely pulling away and crawling into the nest-like bed. Wilbur's instincts purr, and so does the brunet at the sight as he joins the male. He wraps Tommy up protectively and hums happily.

Something still feels off, but he shakes it off as the two slowly drift asleep.

The feeling of paranoia and a general disturbance never leaves Wilbur, even so much so that Tommy also starts to feel his paranoia.

It was midday, and Wilbur was going to get Tommy that special something he'd promised the previous night, but even in the small town, Wilbur couldn't shake the feeling of peering eyes. Even as they found themselves in a vampire-friendly diner, Wilbur couldn't shake the feeling.

Something terrible was lurking out there, almost making Wilbur growl, but he didn't know why. Nobody was actively stalking him, at least not when he would check, so what was making him so off guard? He didn't know.

He jumps when he feels a hand on his wrist but calms upon seeing who it is connected to. Tommy is looking at him with concern. He shakes it off and smiles softly, "I'm alright. Just paranoid for no reason still. Can't shake the feeling of someone watching us..."

Tommy hums softly and returns to eating the strawberry pancakes he'd gotten. Wilbur only picks at his with no appetite for the blood-infested pancakes anymore. The waiter comes with their check shortly after Tommy finishes his, and they leave. 

While walking, Tommy sees something and stumbles away without Wilbur noticing. When Wilbur can't hear Tommy's soft footsteps, he turns around and panics. Tommy was nowhere to be seen. Panic and paranoid claw at his throat, and he makes a scared growl sound at the back of his neck. He immediately calls out, "Tommy?!"

He whips around, inhuman pointed ears straining to hear as he spins around, looking for any sound. He hears something that sounds like a gasp, and he bolts for it once a scream, much too similar to Tommy's, rings out. He doesn't know how Tommy got so far away from him in such a short amount of time, but Tommy is deep in the forest nearby the diner they were just at.

He cranes to hear more noise and bolts towards the sound of a thud in the grass on his left. He hears the sound of running and just hopes that it's Tommy, running to jump into his safe arms. However, a flash of white slips by him, and it's all too familiar. He turns and is greeted by a white, circular masked vampire. He starts to turn but is stopped by a pained cry.

His world is crumbling in on itself, and he has to stay focused on Tommy, who is just in front of him. So he turns, ignores the man who he knows all too well and sprints towards the pained cries. He stops in a clearing and nearly falls to his knees at the sight in front of him.

It Tommy alright, but everything is wrong. He's lying on the ground, crying and barely moving. Wilbur is frozen at the sight of blood coming from two small holes in his neck. There's so much blood it almost doesn't seem real, and Wilbur can't move.

That is until Tommy whines, high-pitched and scared. Wilbur sprints to him, drops to his knees, and grabs the blond. The brunet holds him close to his chest and whispers when the blond whimpers in his hold, "It's me, Wilbur. It's gonna be okay, I'll- It'll be alright! I'll get you help, just stay awake, darling!"

Tommy smiles sadly up at him. He croaks out the smallest, "Wil," Wilbur's ever heard from the male. Wilbur shushes him and holds his hand over the bite, trying to stop the bleeding as he whispers sweet nothings. Tommy is staring at him with half-lidded eyes that threaten to close.

"Stay awake, darling, keep your eyes open! Please, for me, just stay awake!" Wilbur pleads, but it is far too late for Tommy to hear him. Tommy's eyes flutter shut and then open, staring up at him with nothing in them. There is no spark, no twinkle and no life in them.

Wilbur shakes him. He can't even hear himself screaming over the ringing in his ears. He cries, tears swarming down his face, but he doesn't feel them. He doesn't feel anything but a sense of deep sadness.

Tommy is dead in his arms. His precious baby brother is no longer alive, and he's bled out in his arms because of a man who made Wilbur's life miserable. He's just made it worse because his only lifeline is dead.

Tommy is dead.

Chapter Text

Tommy isn't dead.

Well, technically, not anymore he isn't. However, he was.

Before that, he was curious and excited. He had seen a rabbit! It was cute, with its small body and brown coat. It had hopped in front of the pathway to the van and into the forest. He had to follow it. Sure it might've upset Wilbur, but he'd relax upon seeing the bunny's cute beady eyes and cotton tail.

Then something snapped from somewhere behind him, and he whipped around, expecting to see his older brother. However, he saw nothing. Then he was attacked and grabbed around the neck. He gasped, but before he could even scream or turn around, a hand came up and covered his mouth. He couldn't call for help.

Once the person had a good grip on him, they ran. They were so fast, inhumanly so, and Tommy found himself in the middle of a clearing in the forest in no time. The hand uncovered his mouth. He was going to yell out for help, but two long and sharp teeth dug into his neck before he could.

He screamed as pain gripped every part of him. Blood was being pulled through the holes in his neck, and he couldn't even squirm. The man had a firm hold on his arms and upper body. He started to feel lightheaded, but he whimpered when he belatedly felt a liquid seeped through the holes in his neck.

He couldn't even think straight, but he cried out all the same as he tried to fight against the man. He couldn't even see him, couldn't even move to see him. All he could do was whine at the cold that overtook his body as the liquid poured into his veins. Then, once the man was done, he dropped Tommy to the floor and sped off.

Tommy could hear running, two sounds of footsteps, and he cried out in pain suddenly. His body felt ice cold like he'd just jumped into a frozen pond. His neck was warm, but that was probably because of the blood that pooled out of him as he lay helplessly on the grassy ground around him.

He heard the footsteps suddenly stop and cried, scared that the man wasn't done with him. Then the person ran over, dropped to their knees and held him close. He blinked tiredly at the figure. He was blurry but familiar. "Wil," he croaked out, and he heard mumbling.

He couldn't hear the words, maybe because of the ringing in his body, but he tried to. However, he was so tired. Wilbur would take care of him. He knows Wilbur. He trusts Wilbur. He loves Wilbur. Yeah, his brother will help him. Maybe a nap is okay.

He wakes up a minute later, so much for a nap. He whimpers, and the body above him- Who is shaking? Crying?- stops. A voice rings out, but he still can't hear them, so he tries to speak again. He doesn't get another sound out other than a low growl, almost animal-like. Weird, he's never been able to do that...

The person, Wilbur, maybe, sobs harder and tugs him closer. He hears some of the words he says now, "...okay? I- help you... okay?-... dearheart, sleep." He can't deny how tired he is, so he obeys.

Wilbur will help him. He'll be okay because he isn't dead.

Tommy isn't dead.

Tommy isn't dead.

It's both a relief and a horrible realization that spreads through Wilbur's mind. Of course, he's happy his brother is alive, but if that growl was anything to go off of, then he isn't much better off than Wilbur was a few years ago.

He's a vampire, or at least he's beginning to turn into one. Wilbur remembers the horrible process, the aches and pains of vampire turnings. Even if the turning was slow, there'd still be pain, but he didn't know how much. His turning was fast, and it seems that Tommy's will be too.

Wilbur wants to throw up upon hearing that growl, but instead, he just sobs and tugs Tommy closer. "Oh my baby, I'm so sorry... I'll save you, okay? I will help you, okay? Oh, dearheart, sleep..."

Wilbur picks his brother up, holding him bridal style and runs. He has to fix his wound and bring him back to safety. Sure he probably couldn't die now, but he didn't want to risk it. Fledglings are very precious, delicate.

Tommy's a fledgling now.

Wilbur wants to throw up.

Instead, Wilbur opens the van doors with one hand, sets Tommy on the mattress in the back of the van, grabs a nearby towel, and wraps his neck up carefully. He slams the van doors shut and positions the blond carefully into the nest that is their shared bed. His instincts are going wild, but he can hardly hear them over his need to heal Tommy's bite mark.

Wilbur grabs the first aid kit in his backpack, hanging off the back of the driver's seat. He fumbles with it, eyes sight still blurry from tears. He blinks the remaining ones away and shakes his head, feeling the start of a headache somewhere in the back of his fuzzy head. He pours water over the wound and wipes it up with the towel.

He mumbles to himself, trying to say words but failing. Only growls and inhuman whines fall from his mouth as he wraps the wound up and tugs the male up to his chest. Tommy doesn't wake up again, and Wilbur knows the process has already started, and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

Tommy would be out cold for two weeks, and it still wouldn't be entirely over. During these next two weeks, he'd need blood and be in miserable pain. He'd whine and cry and sob, and there would be nothing Wilbur could do to help him. Even if they grew a sire-fledgling bond, he still wouldn't be able to help him fully.

Forming a bond would be challenging during this time anyways, Wilbur knows that all too well. He'd need to deny his original sire first, and then he'd need to accept Wilbur as his. Then, the smallest of bonds would be formed via the sharing of their blood. However, he'd be unconscious for a majority of it all. He'd probably not have enough time to deny and accept sires in time for Wilbur to aid the pain at all.

It was useless. Wilbur was useless.

All he could do was wrap himself around Tommy, sobbing, burying his face into the blond's messy curls, and thinking of all the things that would change about Tommy. His beautiful baby blue eyes would change, albeit over a decade of time, and his human ears would get pointy. His two front teeth would grow pointy and sharp, that and his ears would take a month to occur.

Wilbur whines subconsciously at the idea of Tommy in pain for a month. They won't be able to leave this town for two weeks because of Tommy's upcoming pain session. He would need constant care even though Wilbur isn't his sire.

Tommy is sireless.

He and Wilbur are sireless together.

"Why you, why now?!" Wilbur cries into Tommy's hair. Tommy doesn't reply, out cold. It was as if Tommy was in a coma of pain and suffering. Wilbur couldn't help but cry harder.

Why'd it have to be Tommy? Why couldn't the man who ruined his life leave Tommy out of it? Why was he even here? Was he following Wilbur? Did he plan this?

It all hurts too much to think about, and Wilbur had to stop before he throws up or worse. Wilbur holds Tommy impossibly close and pets his sensitive bite mark above the bandages. Tommy shifts in his sleep but doesn't move more than that. "My baby... My poor baby, I'm so sorry. I'm sorry, my poor baby brother..."

Wilbur feels an immense wave of guilt crash over him, and he only sobs more, wetting Tommy's hair more in the process. He wasn't there to save Tommy from the man who'd ruined his life, and now Tommy would suffer the same fate as him. His undead heart aches in so many different ways for his brother, his fledgling.

His fledgling? No, no, stop that. Not yours... Wilbur scolds himself, which only makes him cry harder.

Suddenly, Tommy whines below him and his instincts go crazy. Fledgling- feed- feed- need- blood- baby! Wilbur nods and thinks, Right fledglings need a lot of blood... Wilbur knows he doesn't have blood bags, not for himself, so he'll have to go for the next best thing—his own blood.

Somehow, even though his heart doesn't beat anymore, it still pumps blood through his system. So, he'll just use some of his own, not like he needs it anyways. He pulls his wrist up to his mouth and hesitates. He's never bitten anyone before, not even himself.

He rolls his eyes and bites his wrist too hard, and draws Tommy back. He doesn't pull Tommy away from his chest, fledglings need to be close to others, but Wilbur pulls him away enough to sneak his bloody hand to the blond's mouth. If Tommy were any more conscious, he'd probably protest, but instincts take over, and the blond latches down.

He still has his human teeth, but he bites regardless, and it hardly does anything. However, he sucks the blood from Wilbur's wrist all the same. As pride fuels his senses, Wilbur pulls the tug of something he doesn't understand. Seeing a fledgling drink blood for the first time does that to you, Wilbur guesses. His instincts also latch onto it, similar to Tommy latching his mouth around Wilbur's wrist.

Fledgling- baby- tiny- cute- happy- pride- fed- fed- too much- stop! Wilbur pulls his hand away before he can stop himself and nearly falters when Tommy whines at him. He's not quite sure why he pulled away, but he starts speaking before he can stop him, "Sorry, my dear, you'll get sick... I think..."

He's out of his element here. He's never been around fledgling, let alone having one drink from him. He's only four in vampire years. Which means he's just barely over the age of a fledgling. He's never had to care for one, but now it's all he wants to do. It's all he needs to do. He pets a hand over Tommy's back, nails dragging lightly and purring. Tommy instantly purrs back, and Wilbur wishes he could push feelings through a bond to him to show how proud he was of Tommy.

However, they aren't bonded, so Wilbur resorts to saying it aloud. "I'm so proud of you. You're so brave. So brave, my dear. Go to sleep, Tommy. You'll need it..." Tommy listens, burying his face deeply into Wilbur's chest as he's held securely there.

Wilbur feels so many feelings, pride, anger, deep sadness, regret, guilt and more. Everything is too much and not enough all at once. He wonders if this is how Phil felt when caring for Wilbur. Poor Phil, this is awful. Well, moreso, poor Tommy but whatever.

He wishes Phil was here. He'd know what to do. Wilbur has no clue, but Phil might. He was Phil's first and only fledgling. And he'd run away.

Oh.

Oh...

He gets it now. He understands the tug on his heart that is half a bond from his sire's end and feels it with Tommy as well. It all hurts in ways he's not sure he can explain. He feels guilty for leaving Phil, for running from the one person who would've loved him despite who he was. He misses his sire. Why wasn't he with him now? Wilbur buries his face into Tommy's hair.

Tommy.

That's why he's here. He's here, not with his sire, because he'd needed to meet Tommy. The fantastic Tommy, who he's sworn to protect ever since seeing that bruise on his eye in foster care. He's failed to protect Tommy, his fledgling. At least Phil didn't know Wilbur prior to his turning. He thinks this feeling is worse than if he had just found a fledgling as Phil had.

Tommy is so young, much younger than Wilbur had been when he was turned. He is a baby compared to Wilbur, and technically he is now. Just a baby, a baby vampire. His baby, his baby vampire, his fledgling. Wilbur can't stop the possessiveness that claws at his body now. He's in too deep.

His instincts force themselves out, like a wild animal primed to attack, and he can't stop himself from purring loudly and covering Tommy as if to hide him from more threats. He growls when Tommy whimpers in his sleep.

He stays awake, listening to the sounds around the van and waiting for any threat to rear its ugly head. Every noise, every animal noise or gust of wind that sounds, he growls at as the night drags on. It goes from sunset to midnight to daytime before Wilbur even understands anything. He sees the sun beaming through the windows, and he glares, lack of tiredness in his bones.

He's stayed up all night because of instincts and blinks tiredly out of his stupor. He's got a death grip on Tommy's fragile body, and suddenly, sleep crashes into him before he can control it. He only hoped he'd wake up when Tommy did for his next feeding.

Chapter Text

Hearing Tommy groan in pain for a week had to be just about the worse thing Wilbur's ever experienced.

Sure, he's been hit and abused. He'd had glass bottles of alcohol slammed over his head. He had taken a blade to his own skin because of the hatred he felt for himself. He'd gotten into fight after fight, with adults and teens his age all the same. He'd even gone through the same turning process as Tommy was currently. He knew how painful it was.

But nothing, and he means nothing, could come close to seeing and hearing his little brother in pain. He'd only seen Tommy get hurt a few times, and he blamed himself every time. Sometimes foster parents would get a hit on the blond before the brunet could step in. Other times he'd fallen, tripped, or did something stupid to get a cut or bruise. No matter how Wilbur blamed himself whenever Tommy got hurt.

It was his responsibility to take care of Tommy, to ensure his safety, and every new wound or bruise told Wilbur he'd failed at his most important job. However, this? This was something that left no bruises or cuts, no physical injuries in sight. It somehow hurt worse than seeing a physical wound, at least those he could tend to. But this he couldn't.

He was useless to help the insufferable pain of a vampire turning. He couldn't put a bandaid or an ice pack over this wound, and he felt awful about it. All he could do was sit and listen as Tommy would cry out and writhe in his arms. All he could do was sit there, holding Tommy closer than he'd ever had before, and listen when he called out his name. Tommy's voice would go hoarse, and he'd cry himself to sleep; there was absolutely nothing Wilbur could do about it.

Of course, he'd offer his blood whenever the male opened his weary eyes, played with his hair, and whispered sweet nothings. None of that helped, besides the blood that Tommy desperately needed to survive. However, the two-week process wasn't yet over, and his kind words and actions did nothing to soothe the male.

The sound of Wilbur's stomach growling startled him out of his thoughts. Wilbur rolled his eyes. He'd been ignoring his own hunger to help Tommy, he wouldn't dare leave the male's side. He could last a month without blood. Tommy couldn't. So what if he was weaker? Tommy was more important.

The van was still parked where it had been a week ago. Luckily, no one was around to scold them. They were in the middle of the woods, after all. Wilbur hadn't moved from the nest, which meant Tommy hadn't either. The brunet still had the blond wrapped up protectively in his arms, and he didn't dare move.

Tommy groaned suddenly, and Wilbur purred to soothe the other's pained cry. It hurt to know that he couldn't ease Tommy's pain. He wasn't the other's sire. If he was, then maybe his presence could lessen the ache. He didn't understand much about it, but he knew that that was why his turning had hurt so much. He didn't have a sire when he was turned, too vengeful to accept Phil as his sire during or after his turn.

He knew that the process of creating a sire-fledgling was easy enough. All Tommy had to do was regret the vampire who turned him, which he'd probably already done, and then he'd have to confirm Wilbur as his sire.

It was a misconception that a sire had to be the vampire who turned you. It was more of a bonded soul type of thing, like a found thing, more than a forced family. The bond that would form if Tommy did that wouldn't be a full one, they'd have to drink each other's blood to have a full bond, but it'd be enough to lessen Tommy's pain.

However, Tommy barely woke up. When he woke, it was to drink blood and pass out again soon after. It would be challenging for Tommy to do that. Wilbur barely remembered anything from his turning besides the pain he'd felt. Wilbur heard himself whine sadly at the thought.

Suddenly Tommy groans again, and Wilbur's full attention is on him. "Tommy?"

The blond nuzzles into him with a whine, and Wilbur can feel the wet spot from Tommy's earlier tears press into his chest. He scratches lightly at Tommy's scalp to soothe him. "Hurts..." Tommy whines suddenly, and Wilbur nods, fully understanding how much pain he is in.

"I know, I know. I'm sorry, I wish I could do something to help. But I- I'm not your sire... I'm sorry, Toms." Wilbur whispers, burying his face into Tommy's hair.

Tommy makes a face into his chest, face scrunching up in confusion. "Wha'?" He whimpers and shakes his head. "Sire!" He exclaims.

Wilbur's undead heart drops into his chest.

"Oh, Tommy... I'm sorry... He- He's not here..." Wilbur understands the pain of being sireless. He understands so well.

Tommy shakes his head again and sobs into his chest. Tommy's fist suddenly collides with his chest. It wasn't hard enough to hurt because of how weak Tommy was currently, but Wilbur still felt it. He felt the pain behind it and wondered how Tommy was still awake. He should've been asleep by now. It was weird he woke up at all.

"Sire!!" Tommy cries again, fist turning into a pointed finger that stabs into his chest as Tommy repeats himself. Wilbur is confused for a moment.

"Tommy...? I-I don't- understand?" Wilbur pulls away from Tommy's curls to look down in confusion. When Tommy pulls away to make eye contact, he sees the tears spilling down his face.

"You!! Sire!" Tommy cries as if it's his last lifeline, and Wilbur finally understands. His breath hitches, and his eyes go wide with shock. He struggles to speak as he feels a bond form in his soul.

It was such an odd feeling. It wasn't physical. No marks or pain came from it. Just a figurative pull on his soul and a buzz in his mind. It was as if everything he'd been missing was fulfilled, even if just by a bit. He felt a dull tug on his other bond, the one Phil had with him and he wondered if Phil felt Tommy join their messed up little coven just as he had.

Oh.

Oh.

"Me? I'm sire?" Wilbur asks airly as if confirming this wonderful feeling in his chest. Tommy nods frantically as if he's concerned Wilbur will reject him as Wilbur had done to Phil.

He doesn't want to be like his past self.

"Oh, of course! Of course, my darling! I'm- I can be your sire! I am, I'm right here! Your sire is right here..." Wilbur says quickly as he pulls the boy into his chest again. Wilbur laughs airly, as if out of breath, and adds, "My fledgling, I'm right here..." 

He can feel the bond grow, and it's not nearly enough. Tommy must feel that, too, as he nuzzles in. Wilbur's instincts go wild in his head, and he can feel the urge to send emotions through their weak bond so he can soothe Tommy. Tommy seems to beat him to it.

He can hear Tommy struggle to figure out how, but he feels when Tommy sends Hungry down the bond. Wilbur nods and brings his wrist up, biting down on a scar that'd just closed. He winces as it reopens but ignores it as he brings the bloody wrist to Tommy's mouth.

The blond latches his, still too human, teeth to the two bleeding holes and greedily sucks the blood up. The bond starts to strengthen, and Wilbur can hear Tommy's feelings more clearly. Love- Love- Happy- Content.

Wilbur smiles and tries to remember how to share his emotions with Tommy. He remembers how Phil explained it, "It's like- Just think of the person and imagine sending them a message and you will!" He hums at the memory and does just that.

Pride- Proud- Happy- Love- Love- Love!! Is what's sent through the bond as Tommy detaches his mouth from Wilbur's wrist with a happy sigh. Wilbur smiles as Tommy nuzzles back into his chest.

Their bond is far stronger than his and Phil's and much more than his and Techno's. He can barely register Techno's bond because he'd hardly seen the pink-haired vampire in his time at Phil's home. However, because he was in a coven with Phil, his bond would be there regardless of how bonded they actually were.

Wilbur didn't know much about bonds, but he knew that his one with Tommy was mutual, unlike his one with Phil. He'd rejected his sire, the masked man who turned him, but he hadn't entirely accepted Phil as his sire either. He drank his blood and was grateful for the man, but he hadn't accepted him as a sire. Phil had accepted him as his fledgling, though, which is why he could feel a tugging on his soul similar to Tommy's.

Wilbur finally felt important and halfway completed. Like his soul was whole. Something was still missing, but he felt content enough to fall asleep alongside Tommy. So, as soon as he heard Tommy's breath even out, he closed his eyes too. Then he let sleep overtake him.

And he felt content for the first time since Tommy's turning process started.

Chapter Text

Tommy should've woken up by now. He should be awake by now.

Okay, maybe that was wrong, but Wilbur was panicking anyways.

It's been two weeks since Tommy was turned, therefore, he should be waking up soon. It is night, nearing the exact time that Tommy was turned. He should be waking up soon, and here Wilbur is, freaking out because he isn't awake yet. He still has an hour or so until Tommy should wake up, so he doesn't know why he is panicking.

Maybe it's the new stress of being a sire- He is briefly reminded of Phil and how he probably felt when Wilbur was turned- or maybe it's because he is always worried about Tommy. Maybe it's because his instincts are going wild, both from lack of blood and from having his fledgling safe in his arms.

His stomach growls at the thought of food. He hasn't had anything since Tommy's turning, mainly because he worried about Tommy getting fed before him. He could last a month without blood, he'd be fine, but Tommy couldn't. As a freshly turned vampire, he needed as much blood as possible.

So, forgive him for ignoring his own needs for Tommy once again.

Tommy would be pissed that he'd gone so long without food. He'd probably yell at him once he's found out, but that'd be a problem for future Wilbur.

Wilbur tugs Tommy closer, though he barely moves because of how close they already are, and sighs. He runs his hand through the blond's curls and blinks back to reality. He focuses on how Tommy's hair feels against his fingers as he waits for the male to wake up.

Wilbur sighs softly as he holds the younger. He just wants his brother to wake up already, he needs him to. He knows Tommy would, but paranoia and stress cling to him like leeches. He can never truly shake the worry he feels for his brother, this kid who wormed his way into Wilbur's undead heart. Wilbur will never regret letting Tommy in, either. He'll protect this boy for the rest of his life.

Suddenly he's reminded that he didn't protect Tommy two weeks ago. He had failed. He hadn't been able to save the male from his previous sire, the man who'd made his life miserable. He doesn't even know why that man turned him- and now Tommy- instead of just killing him like the other vampires did to his biological family.

He would probably never know why he was turned instead of killed or, by extension, why Tommy was turned as well. One part of him wants to know why so desperately, but the other part wants to forget, to ignore that it all even happened in the first place. He wants nothing to do with the man that turned him.

He doesn't want to see him again. He knows that for sure.

Wilbur buries his face into Tommy's curls as his lips press into a thin line at his thoughts. He should stop thinking. He wishes he could stop thinking, stop the constant train of bad thoughts and memories. He sometimes wishes he'd stop altogether, but he knows he can't do that. It takes a lot to kill a vampire, for real, and he has someone to look over now, so he pushes those thoughts down.

As if sensing his bad thoughts, Tommy nuzzles into Wilbur and snaps him back to reality. He pulls away from Tommy's hair and asks, "Tommy? You awake?"

Below him, the blond hazily blinks awake. It takes a moment for him to realize he's pressed up against something and to register the question from above him. He belatedly wonders if this is heaven but stops when he notices how familiar the voice above him is.

He tries to speak but stops when nothing comes out. Everything hurts, and it feels like he's been dunked and held underwater. He is so cold that he feels like he's in an ice bath or a frozen pond in the middle of winter. His neck aches with a pain that isn't sharp but rather dull and continuous. It doesn't go away no matter how long he sits and waits for it to. His ears and mouth ache too. Worst of all is that he has no idea why.

He hears someone talking, and they sound familiar, but he can't hear the words. He wonders if he's lost his hearing and sight because he can't see or hear anything but muffled words. He starts to panic because of it, breath coming in sharp and quick. His body shakes slightly the more he panics.

Suddenly two hands are on his shoulders, pulling him back, and he can finally see. The familiar sight of his brother Wilbur comes into view, albeit blurry, and he calms down slightly. However, he still can't register the words Wilbur is saying to him, so he is still panicking.

He doesn't feel real, or alive for that matter. It feels like he's in heaven, imagining Wilbur there to comfort him. His body feels real, the aches and pains that cover him are all definitely real, but he feels as if he's not in control of his body. His body feels like a puppet, but he's not the puppeteer. Like he's watching himself from an outside perspective and can do nothing but watch as he shakes in his pseudo-brother's arms.

He looks down at his hands. They are his hands. He knows they are, but they don't feel like his hands. He can move and feel them, but they can't be his hands. No, he's not real. He can't be real. He can't be alive. He died, didn't he?

Didn't he?

He doesn't remember much of what happened, nor does he remember the passage of time between what happened and now. All he remembers is pain and the feeling of temporary comfort until there is more pain. All he knows now is pain still.

He knows he's freaking out, knows he's dissociation. He also knows he's probably scaring Wilbur. He can hear Wilbur's panicked voice calling to him, but all he can do is slowly glance up at him with hazy blue-grey eyes. His eyes are wide, and he can feel them stare into something on Wilbur's face, but he can't focus on anything.

He's had episodes like this before, times when he doesn't feel real. There have been times when he's zoned out while someone- Typically a current foster parent- is yelling at him. Sometimes it caused them to back off, but more often than not, it caused him more pain. Often physical pain. He knows that he needs to focus and return to reality before there's more pain.

Although he trusts Wilbur would never hurt him, old habits die hard. So, he tries to listen to Wilbur's voice, staring into his eyes now. He starts to hear a bit clearer, so he stares at Wilbur until he can hear him. "—here ya go. Okay, can you count aloud the taps I make on your hand here with me? Can you try that?" Wilbur says with a tap to his left palm.

He doesn't count, not out loud, but Wilbur doesn't seem to mind. He doesn't feel like he can, his mouth feels glued shut, and he hopes Wilbur continues not to care. After five taps, he starts to count out loud in a whisper tone, and Wilbur seems to relax ever so slightly.

Wilbur does a multitude of taps, some fast, some slow, so it doesn't get repetitive. He feels as if it's intentional, and he wonders if Wilbur has ever dissociated as well. Repetitive actions don't help, they've always made him go right back to his mind. He appreciates that Wilbur understands, intentional or not. They both count each tap in small, hushed voices. They count about thirty until Tommy can feel his whole body again, can feel in control and real again.

He moves, sitting up in Wilbur's hold and looks around. They're in the van still, not heaven, so this is definitely real, and so is he. He nods to himself and makes eye contact with Wilbur. "Hey, sunshine. You back with me?"

Tommy nods, and when he speaks, his voice is hoarse and sore, "Yeah, what's- Where...?" He stops and coughs, lowering his head to not cough into Wilbur's face.

"Oh! Shh, don't speak yet, darling. Here," Wilbur says as he grabs a water bottle nearby and hands it to him. He drinks from it greedily once the refreshing cold water hits his sore throat. Wilbur pulls it back with a chuckle, and in the back of his mind, he can hear a voice, much too similar to Wilbur's say Precious- Proud- Worried.

He doesn't understand where it came from, so as he sets the water bottle down, he asks, "What? Why's my head all loud? Who-?"

Wilbur stops smiling at that and looks away. "Ah, sorry. Uh, I'm not sure how to say this..." Tommy tilts his head and blinks in confusion.

"Wha-?" He asks softly, voice still scratchy. Wilbur grabs his hand and sighs.

"What do you remember right now?" Wilbur asks, and the question feels like it came out of nowhere.

Tommy's eyebrows furrow, squinting at his fuzzy memory, "Uh, I remember that we went to dinner together... And then there was a bunny, and I wanted to see it, uh..." Tommy stops for a moment to think, "Then all I can remember is pain. That's all. I can remember something else but mainly pain. What happened, Wilbur?"

Wilbur frowns sympathetically. "Oh, Toms... I- I'm sorry. You're, uh- You got turned." Wilbur's frown deepens at Tommy's continued confusion. "You're a vampire now, Tommy..."

And it's as if the world stops all around him. Everything collapses in on him, and he blinks in shock, shoulders lowering slightly. All he can mutter out is a pathetic, "W-What?"

Wilbur grabs his shoulders when they start to shake, and his breathing picks up again. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Tommy..." Tommy lets Wilbur hold him for a moment. That is until he hears reassurances coming into his head that sound like Wilbur.

That's a sire-fledgling bond, Tommy realizes or at least assumes, and suddenly he feels ill.

Tommy shakes out of Wilbur's hold and stares up accusingly. "Did- Did- Was it you who-?"

Wilbur immediately cuts him off sharply, "No! Never! I didn't turn you. I wouldn't have turned you, not without your consent. I wouldn't. I didn't."

Tommy relaxes as he falls back into Wilbur, trusting his words, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I know. I just-"

Wilbur runs his hand up and down his back and says, "It's alright, I completely understand. I thought that about Phil, too, for a while, but trust me when I say I didn't. I wouldn't have unless you wanted me to, and I would've given you a slow turning." Tommy doesn't quite understand what that means, but he trusts Wilbur.

He's always trusted, Wilbur. Wilbur's always been there for him. Ever since that day that he'd gotten back from a failed foster home, Wilbur had stepped in every time a foster parent threatened to hurt him. Wilbur would never purposely hurt Tommy, not like this, either. He knows how much Wilbur hates his own kind. He'd never make Tommy one of them unless he had to.

"Who?" Tommy asks softly as he calms down. Wilbur sighs, and he sounds a bit bitter now.

"I don't know, Tommy, but I think it was the same vampire who turned me. I don't know why or how he found us, but he did, and I'm sorry. I couldn't save you in time, and for that, I'm so, so sorry. I failed you..." Tommy scoffs at that and pulls back to stare into Wilbur's grief-stricken eyes.

Half red, half brown eyes met still entirely blue ones.

"No, you didn't." Wilbur stares at him with confusion, so Tommy continues, "Is it my original sire who's here with me now?"

Wilbur shakes his head, and Tommy says, "Is it my original sire who saved me and brought me back here to comfort and help me?"

Wilbur shakes his head but opens his mouth to protest. Tommy cuts him off before he can, "No, stop. You didn't fail me. You may not have saved me from being turned, but you didn't leave me there. If you did, then you would've failed me. But did you leave me after I got turned?"

"No, but Tommy, I-" Wilbur starts, but he gets cut off again.

"Did you leave me after I was turned?" Tommy asks again, glaring at Wilbur with solid determination.

Wilbur sighs, "No. No, I didn't. I would've never done that... You're my brother. I couldn't just leave you to die or bleed out and turn all by yourself..."

Tommy smiles as if he's won. "Then you didn't fail me, and that's final." Wilbur pouts and starts to speak again, so Tommy repeats himself, "And that's final, Wilbur."

Wilbur sighs and lightly hits his forehead against Tommy's. "Alright..." He says, but he doesn't sound convived.

Tommy wishes he remembers how to send emotions down the bond he and Wilbur apparently share. He tries his best, and after a few awkward moments of silence, he thinks he's done it because Wilbur's eyes widen, and then he huffs fondly.

A second after him, Wilbur sends him emotions right back. Proud- Happy- Thankful- Love is what he hears, and he smiles swiftly. Tommy giggles and closes his eyes, saying, "That's so strange... But I like it..."

Wilbur smiles back and nods against Tommy's forehead, "Me too. I'm surprised we even got bonded in those two weeks."

Tommy blinks and pulls back. "It's been two weeks? How didn't I wake up?"

Wilbur smiles sadly, "That's how vampire turnings are. You're basically in a partial coma for two weeks or a month if it's a slow one."

"Oh... So, I'm a vampire now, huh..." It's not a question, but Wilbur nods slowly. Tommy smiles sadly. "Well, guess we don't gotta worry about buying me regular food now..."

Both of their stomachs growl at the mention of food, and Wilbur laughs softly. Tommy, however, feels a sudden dread sink into him. He realizes what that means for him. He's going to have to drink blood. He pushes away from Wilbur at the realization, not even noticing that Wilbur is hungry too.

He subconsciously whines, and Wilbur grabs his wrist, which makes him look up. "Tommy?" Wilbur asks softly, "What's wrong?"

Tommy frowns when he looks down and sees two hole-shaped scars on Wilbur's wrist since he's pulled his sleeve up in anticipation. Wilbur seems to understand as Tommy whines again, feeling sick to his stomach at the idea that he'd already drank blood. Wilbur's blood too.

"Oh, Tommy. I know, but you have to. I can't let you starve or get weak. You're a fledgling, and they need a lot of blood to survive. Please..." Wilbur pleads as he cups Tommy's check.

Tears suddenly pour down the blond's face, and Wilbur gasps sadly, wiping them away quickly. Tommy sobs out, "D-Don't wanna... Don't wanna hurt you," as he shakes his head frantically.

"You won't! You don't even have fangs to bite me with yet. It won't even hurt me, not for that long. You need this blood, honey, please." Tommy doesn't seem convinced, so Wilbur continues despite the blond's shaky protests, "It'll hurt me more if you're starving. Please, let me feed you. Let me feed my fledgling, please..."

Tommy blinks at him at the word fledgling, so Wilbur repeats it, hoping he'll listen, "Please, my sweet fledgling." Wilbur bites down and reopens the scar on his wrist.

Tommy gasps and tries to back up, but Wilbur's now got a hold of his wrist. Tommy whimpers and turns in the opposite direction when Wilbur puts his bloody wrist to Tommy's face. Tommy shakes his head, and Wilbur sighs. "Please..."

Tommy glances back at Wilbur's guilty, sad expression and pouts sadly. Wilbur nods as if he understands and says, "I know. It's scary, but please. Just try, you need to eat."

Part of Wilbur feels like a hypocrite, and he knows that as soon as Tommy's found out how long he's gone without food, he'll call him that too, but he can't find it in himself to care yet. His instincts are just begging him to feed the hungry vampire.

So when Tommy inches closer and hesitantly wraps his mouth around Wilbur's wrist, he relaxes. He tries his best not to gag or think about it too much as he starts to drink the blood. Tommy drinks much slower than he did when he was half-asleep, but it doesn't matter to Wilbur. Just as long as Tommy's fed, that's all Wilbur cares about.

Not too long after he latches on, Tommy pulls away and throws his head in the opposite direction of Wilbur. Wilbur knows he didn't get enough blood, but it's a good start. Suddenly there's a soft gasp as Tommy notices a box of bandages and quickly grabs it. Wilbur laughs softly and says, "I don't need that, it'll heal-"

Tommy cuts him off again and says, "I know you heal faster but let me do this... Please, sire?" Wilbur blanks at the word and finds he can't say no to Tommy as the word echoes intensely in his head. His instincts are screaming at the word, and he can hardly speak through them, so he just smiles and nods.

He doesn't speak as Tommy grabs a small bandaid, unwraps it and puts it over his wound. Eventually, his instincts stop screaming, and he finds his voice again. "You're too sweet, Toms..." He says softly after the teen pulls his hands away from the bandaged wrist.

Since he was a vampire, his wounds healed far faster than a human's wound. Ever since he was turned four years ago, he's never needed to put bandaids on. However, the idea of Tommy wanting to heal him was too cute to ignore. Plus, it was hard to say no when he called him sire like that. It was as if the word paralyzed him for a moment. Wilbur knew it was hard enough to say no to Tommy already, but the word made it almost impossible.

"There!" Tommy says as he admires his work. "Alright, can we get up now? My everything hurts, and I need to stretch. Plus, you still need to eat, if I remember correctly."

Wilbur nods, "Yeah, we can get up. How 'bout we stretch for a bit, and I'll try to find a place that's still open at this time of day, yeah?" Tommy looks outside and realizes how late it is, and nods.

"Okay!" Tommy says, but before he can get up, Wilbur pulls him close and nuzzles his face into his blond curls, which are probably gross and greasy. Once again, it seems that Wilbur doesn't mind.

"I love you, little fledgling..." Tommy can practically feel his own pupils expand at that, and he purrs softly. Wilbur returns it immediately as Tommy goes red with embarrassment.

"L-Love you too, you big sap... Now lemme go!!!" Tommy grumbles. Wilbur laughs but lets him go with a gentle kiss on his hairline.

Chapter Text

Tommy steps out of the van on shaky legs. He steadies himself against the van door as he wobbles, hearing a concerned sound coming from Wilbur in front of him. He hasn't walked in two weeks and is definitely feeling the effects.

"Woah, careful!" Wilbur calls as he steps closer.

Embarrassed, Tommy waves him away, "I am! Just- I'll just hold this. I'm fine, Wil!" He grabs onto the van's door handle and looks away. Wilbur laughs softly, and he can feel the other's half-red half brown eyes staring into him.

Worried bastard... Tommy thinks as he rolls his eyes.

He's glad that vampires don't share thoughts, only emotions. He wouldn't want Wilbur to know his every thought. Though, he knows that's not how their sire-fledgling bond works. He could send thoughts through the bond if he really wanted to. That's what Wilbur's told him before.

He can remember back at the foster care centre when he'd asked about vampires. Wilbur had told him almost everything, or at least everything he knew. If a bonded coven or sire-fledging pair wanted to share direct messages instead of emotions alone, they'd have to be bonded by blood.

He blinks as Wilbur steps closer to him. He straightens up and stretches his arms. Every joint cracks as he does, and it sounds like he's a glowstick someone has just snapped in two, so it would light up the dark forest around them. Wilbur grimaces at the noise.

Every muscle in Tommy is still aching, but stretching is helping him feel better. So he continues until the pain is a distant, ignorable pain. He sighs happily and shakes himself a bit before trying to walk again. He's far more successful than the first time, and he can practically feel Wilbur relax beside him. He stifles a giggle and stretches his legs before walking the short distance back to Wilbur.

"Feeling better now?" Wilbur asks with a content smile on his face.

Tommy returns it before he speaks, "Yup!" He pops the 'p', and he sounds much better than he did when he first woke up.

Wilbur nods and gestures to the van, "Alright, it isn't too late, so hop in the front, and I'll try to find a place to get myself food..."

Tommy blinks, "Wait, why did you make me drink from you if we were gonna go get something for you?"

Wilbur rolls his eyes, "Because you're a fledgling. You require blood from a vampire for a full year before you can get blood from humans. Otherwise, I wouldn't have made you do that..."

He sounds slightly guilty, and Tommy wilts. "It's not like you forced me, Wil... In the end, I chose to drink from you. Besides, I- I am fledgling, and you are my sire. You're just doing what you need to do..."

Wilbur smiles sadly at him and nods, "Yeah... Okay, let's go." Tommy nods and makes his way to the passenger seat. He hopes that Wilbur believes him. He trusts Wilbur and knows he wouldn't have done that unless he had to.

Now, if only Wilbur saw it that way too.

Eventually, after driving for a few hours, Wilbur finds a place that is still open this late at night. Tommy is initially surprised until he sees it is a gas station. Those usually stayed open for hours after what was considered normal, so it made sense that it was still open.

Although, it is only- Tommy looks over at the time on the car radio- 10:37 pm. Tommy blinks in surprise at the time. It isn't as late as it looks, with the pitch black sky and the stars twinkling brightly in the barren sky of the outskirts of the country they are currently in.

It is lovely seeing the stars in all their shining glory. No lights to pollute the sky, so the stars are bright and beautiful. Like they should be. Tommy has never seen them like this before, usually being in light-polluted towns and cities. It's unlike anything he's ever seen before.

He wishes he could get out of the van to see them, but he has to wait for Wilbur to return. Wilbur was inside the vampire-friendly gas station, getting something for himself. Tommy briefly wonders how long he's gone without food. Whatever he'll ask when the brunet returns.

For now, he turns his focus back to the sparkling lights above him.

Tommy's always loved space and the stars. He has since he was a baby. Back when his mother loved him, she'd given him a space mobile, and he loved it. He would giggle and smile every time he was set in his crib for the night. He'd fall asleep peacefully with hardly any problems.

Then, of course, his father left, and everything fell apart. He doesn't remember the day his space mobile was ripped away from him since he was only a baby, but he does remember his case worker telling him about his early childhood. He knows that his mother gave him up in favour of running off to find her boyfriend.

He was given to foster care, and his space mobile was never seen again. He wishes he remembered what it looked like, but unfortunately, he can't. He hasn't been able to care about space since then, only focusing on what others wanted him to like. He grew up pretending to like what his new foster family wanted him to like, trying to please them enough to get them to keep him.

Of course, no one ever did. So, here he is. He was finally himself, enjoying what he enjoyed and trying to ignore the fact that he never got to enjoy his life when he was alive. He blinks hard, trying to shove his thoughts away. He didn't want to think about being dead, he didn't want another episode. One was enough, thank you very much!

Suddenly, the driver's side door opens, and Tommy snaps his head to see Wilbur jumping back into the van with a white plastic bag. The brunet throws it into the middle of the two car seats and sighs as he slams the door shut. He's mad, Tommy realizes.

He's never liked when people are mad. He always jumps to please when others are mad around him, even if they're not mad at him. Whether it be from trauma response or the empath inside him, he's not sure. He helps, that's what he does. So he asks cautiously, "You okay, Wil?"

No matter how often Wilbur has shown him the right way of dealing with anger, he still worries that Wilbur will yell at him- Or worse. So he's forever hesitant to ask, scared that Wilbur will turn to him with angry eyes and disgust. He's scared that Wilbur will scream at him and tell him he's stupid for asking such a question.

Of course, that never comes. Instead, Wilbur takes a deep breath and turns to him with a patient smile, "Yeah, I'm okay. Just instincts." He huffs a laugh before adding, "Plus, the gas station worker was a bitch!"

Tommy relaxes and asks, "Oh yeah?" He pointedly ignores the first part of Wilbur's sentence.

Wilbur nods and rests his head on the steering wheel. "Yes! He was so slow, and he was judgemental as hell! Keep looking at my hair as if it was personally offending him..."

Tommy glances up and giggles, "Well, it is greasy. Have you not moved since I was turned? Showered at all?" Wilbur flushes with embarrassment and huffs.

"Well, you're not any better!!" He exclaims, gesturing lazily at Tommy. The blond huffs and rolls his eyes, getting serious at a sudden realization.

"Wait, have you- we really not moved in two weeks? Did... Did you get blood during that time?" Wilbur sinks in on himself, and it's all the confirmation Tommy needs.

Tommy's eyebrows furrow, and he makes a disapproving noise. Absent-mindedly, he sends emotions down the bond to Wilbur. Worry- Worry- Mad!

"Wilbur!!" He exclaims as the brunet blinks at him. "You're a hypocrite!! You told me I had to eat, but you've been starving yourself for two weeks! Because- Because of me..."

Wilbur softens in front of him, and there's a comfort- calm- comfort ringing in his head. "I know, I know... I'm sorry, but hey! It's not because of you!! It's because of me that I chose to do that. You didn't make me do that, don't say it was your fault... It wasn't, okay?"

Tommy huffs but nods slowly. "Don't do that again... If I don't get to starve, then you can't either!!" Wilbur smiles sadly and sighs.

"I won't..." He says, and Tommy decides to hold that to him. He's done it before, and he can do it again.

"Eat, then! C'mon, Wil!! No more waiting!!" Tommy exclaims, pushing the bag Wilbur had brought in towards him. Wilbur laughs softly and nods, reaching into the bag and grabbing the food. It was a basic-looking sandwich; if you didn't know any better, it looked like something a human would eat.

However, Tommy knows that somewhere in there is blood. He's always thought it was weird to mix blood into pastries, bread, or a sauce. Sure, he's sure it's better than drinking from an actual human but still. It was odd to Tommy. Though, it probably beats drinking blood straight from an open wound.

Tommy is still trying not to get sick at the idea of doing that again.

Tommy turns to watch the stars again as Wilbur eats, and eventually, the van starts to live again. Tommy turns his attention back to Wilbur as he speaks, "Alright, I'm gonna find a place to park for the night and then tomorrow we're finding a place to shower. We definitely need it..."

Tommy laughs and leans back in his chair as Wilbur backs out of the gas station's parking lot. Just like that, they're back on the road, acting as if nothing was wrong. It helped Tommy ignore the fact that he was now an undead being, a vampire much like his pseudo-brother.

They drove for a while, and Tommy found him lulled to sleep by the rocking of the van. He doesn't know how long it is until he's being woken up again. Wilbur shakes him and makes a sympathetic sound at Tommy's tired whine.

"I know, but you shouldn't sleep here. C'mon, let's get to the back, yeah?" Wilbur says as he nudges Tommy once again.

Tommy groans but eventually sits up and crawls his back into the back of the van, falling face first into the nest of blankets and pillows he and Wilbur called a bed. Wilbur huffs behind him, and soon enough, Tommy feels a weight beside him on the bed.

He allowed Wilbur to pull him close to his chest and wrap him in blankets. He snuggles into Wilbur's chest and smiles, eyes closed. Wilbur presses a kiss to his hairline, and Tommy swats at his face lazily. Wilbur laughs at his sleepy attempt to hit him and says, "I love you, little fledgling... Goodnight, Tommy."

Tommy grumbles and huffs incomprehensible words before sleepily saying, "Love you too. Night..."

Wilbur shifts around a bit before he finally settles. He can feel Wilbur press one more kiss to his hair before he's pulled into a calm sleep for the first time in two weeks.

Chapter Text

Tommy wakes up hungry, which at first is fine.

His unconscious mind doesn't register that he can't eat the foods he used to eat because they can't sustain his hunger anymore. So, he doesn't feel panic seep into his mind at the idea of eating- Or rather drinking in this case- and he is at peace for a few hungry minutes.

He lazily blinks; sleep is dragging him down still. He sits up and looks around, trying to wake up more. While looking around, he sees the sun streaming through the van's windows and smiles. It looks cloudy, but still, the sun shines through it all and Tommy can't help but enjoy the bright light- Even if it hurts his eyes.

He's never really liked the morning; he is too used to it being awful. He prefers the night, when everything is shrouded in darkness and things can go unseen more easily. However, waking up around Wilbur has always made him appreciate the morning more. He doesn't get screamed at or attacked. He doesn't have to scramble to school late because Wilbur never bothered to wake him up. He doesn't have to panic. Never because of Wilbur.

Wilbur doesn't scare him as other adults do.

Wilbur is kind and gentle with him. Even if they started out rocky- Hating each other with a passion- Tommy has never had to fear Wilbur would hurt him. Even when they hated each other. Wilbur never raised a hand to attack or scream hurtful insults at him. Wilbur is helpful. He is a warm fireplace to sit in front of on a cold winter day. He is a big brother- Sometimes even a father figure, but Tommy will never admit that- through and through.

He turns his attention to Wilbur, sleeping right in front of him, and he smiles. Wilbur looks peaceful, unbothered. It makes Tommy happy because he hardly sees Wilbur like this. He's always stressed; he never seems to catch a breath. Tommy knows he can be a handful and tries his best not to be, for him at least. He doesn't want to add to his stress.

Yet you do, and you will for your whole life, especially now since neither of you can die, says a harsh voice that sounds much like his last foster father.

That's when Tommy starts to panic. He's more awake now and remembers what he is now, what he became not even two weeks ago. He fears the hunger he feels and slowly pushes away from Wilbur. He's suddenly filled with fear staring down at the peacefully sleeping man he's come to know as his older brother.

But he's not afraid of Wilbur. No, never, he could never be fearful of Wilbur.

No, he's afraid of himself.

He's afraid of the sudden blood lust he feels staring down at Wilbur. Logically he assumes that's instincts because what can it be otherwise, but the less logical part of him feels sick. He feels like a monster, like he will attack Wilbur and drain him of his blood. He doesn't want to be a monster, and he whimpers subconsciously at the ring of instincts screaming at him. Blood, blood, blood, they call, and he can't look away.

He apparently wakes Wilbur because his brown and red eyes open slowly. There is a mild concern and worry in them, which makes Tommy panic harder. He must be sending emotions down the bond they share; that's why Wilbur's waking up. It had to be. It's not because Wilbur doesn't trust him to control his vampire instincts.

Wilbur trusts him.

Right...?

It sends Tommy spiralling more, and soon he can't breathe, hear or see anything but the instincts in his head. Absent-Mindedly, he feels two arms wrap around his upper arms, but he can't feel them all too much. All he can feel is his lust for blood and fear. He doesn't want to hurt his brother. He doesn't want to drink blood. Not again.

Wilbur wakes up to his mind alight with emotions that aren't his. It confuses him at first because how can he be feeling things that aren't his own emotions? Then he sees a panicked Tommy staring down at him, and it all clicks. He sits up and tries to get the teen's attention by grabbing his arms, but when he violently flinches, Wilbur removes his hands.

He can hear Tommy's emotions, but he wishes he could hear what he's really thinking, know what is sending him spiralling in front of him. He is just staring with dull, blank blue eyes. They used to be a bright, vibrant, wondrous blue. Wilbur used to admire how human and inhuman at the same time his eyes were. Now that's just a painful memory he has to shake off for later.

"Tommy, Toms, can you see me?" He asks, hoping the kid isn't too far away, trapped inside his mind. However, the far-off look and lack of an answer tell him all he needs.

He sighs and gently grabs Tommy's hands. This time, he does not flinch, so Wilbur keeps holding them and starts rubbing different shapes on Tommy's hand. After a moment, the halfway repetitive motions snap some emotion in Tommy's eyes, and Wilbur starts to speak again. "Alright, that's alright. We can bring you back to earth again."

Once again, Tommy makes no move to show he's heard him. Wilbur doesn't mind. "Alright, I'm gonna tap some patterns on your hand, and when you come back to me, I want you to count them."

Wilbur starts to count while tapping the blond's hand in different areas. Tommy's eyes lose their fogginess after a few minutes, and after another few minutes, he starts to count alongside Wilbur. This is when Wilbur allows himself to relax as well. When Tommy gains recognition in his eyes, Wilbur smiles at him to let him know he's safe.

Wilbur's been through this before, not only with Tommy but with himself. He knows what it's like to lose yourself in your own thoughts, to tune out the world around him. He knows what it's like to lose hours sitting in one place, unable to move or even think correctly. Dissociation is something he understands very well, so he gets it.

Tommy seems to get it, too, apparently. It makes Wilbur upset and worried because his wonderful little brother has had such a bad life to get to the point of coping by dissociating when things get complicated. It makes him mad, but he never shows it and never around Tommy himself. Especially like this, he'd take it the wrong way and continue to lose himself instead of coming back like Wilbur needs him to.

Dissociation is excellent for healing your mind, but too much of it is unhealthy. It can affect your daily life- And Wilbur hates how he's quoting his old therapist. He blinks and stops thinking of his old therapist. He has to focus on Tommy.

"Hey, can you hear me now, Toms?" He asks softly, keeping his voice as quiet and calm as possible. Tommy gives a brief nod and says, "Alright, good! Now, can you look for some shapes in the van? How about some squares to start?"

Wilbur knows how much this one helps Tommy. He always feels better after pointing out shapes around him. So he does. He looks around and points out figures in their small van. He points at snack boxes scattered around the van, the box of bandages from the previous day, the mattress itself, the van's front windows, and some buttons on the dashboard.

"Alright, how about some circles?" Those are a bit harder, making him think more. Tommy points out the two gallons of water they have and their bottle caps. He struggles slightly, and his eyebrows furrow to find more shapes.

After a minute of struggle, Wilbur helps him out, "That's fine. Any triangles?"

This is far harder, and he only finds one shape, but it's clear how present he is now that he's thought about something other than whatever made him panic in the first place. Wilbur lets him stop counting shapes and hands him a nearby water bottle.

Once Tommy finishes drinking, Wilbur says, "You back with me now?"

Tommy nods and says, "Yeah, sorry..." Wilbur shakes his head and smiles.

"Don't apologize. It's alright, Toms!" Tommy smiles slightly at him and looks around again. Wilbur decides to address the elephant in the room, "So, what happened?"

Tommy saddens again and looks away. "Uh, I- I was- I am... Hungry."

Wilbur's eyes widen briefly at the realization, but then he softens. He is still holding Tommy's hands, and he squeezes them gently. "Oh, Toms..."

Tommy looks away with a pout, and Wilbur sighs. Tommy quickly adds, "Feel like I'm gonna throw up just thinking about it..."

Wilbur nods. He understands. He remembers when he first woke up and was given a cup of blood from Phil- It wasn't his, but it was from a vampire. Wilbur thinks it might've been from Techno, which explains why he can feel the half bond between him and the pink-haired male.

"I know, it's awful. You wanna know something?" Tommy nods slowly, "I did throw up the first time I was ever given blood... So I understand."

Tommy seldomly nods and quirks a smile at him. "Really?"

Wilbur smiles at the slight amusement in his voice, "Yup, worse of it? It was all over Phil. He was the closest thing to me... Awful first impression, honestly!"

Tommy laughs softly and ducks his head, hair covering his face. It's something he picked up from Wilbur, who used to do it a lot. It makes Wilbur smile.

"Poor Phil..." Tommy says quickly as he looks back up. Wilbur nods with a soft smile.

"He was good about it, thought he ran off after comforting me. I think it was to throw up as well. He was a real champ for that..." Wilbur continues smiling while remembering how pale Phil had been as he speed walked out of the room after rubbing his back.

Wilbur misses Phil, in all honesty. He wishes he hadn't been mean to the man. Hopefully, he can forgive him one day.

"Well, I'll try not to. Cause I know you, you can handle puke to save your life." Tommy teases, but he still looks nervous.

Wilbur smiles, "It's alright if you do, though. I completely understand how wrong it feels."

Tommy nods slowly, mouth snapping shut and making his teeth clack together with an awful noise. He looks up at Wilbur, and they sit for a second before Tommy nods slowly. After he nods, he watches Wilbur take the bandage from yesterday off.

Once Wilbur's teeth make contact with his skin and reopen the scar on his wrist, Tommy jolts. He doesn't move backwards or forwards, which Wilbur silently praises him for. He has good control of his blood lust already. It's surprising.

Wilbur holds his wrist up, and Tommy hesitantly wraps his mouth around the wound. As he does, Wilbur sends reassurances and emotions down the bond, and Tommy relaxes instantly as he drinks.

After a few minutes, Tommy lets go and pulls away. Wilbur accepts it for now and just smiles at Tommy's nervous expression. Then Wilbur reapplies the bandage, and Tommy nods slowly.

"Feeling okay?" Wilbur asks, just in case because Tommy still looks pale- Well, moreso than a vampire should- and sickly.

Tommy nods slowly but doesn't speak, and Wilbur nods back. He grabs Tommy by the shoulders and rubs circles there to soothe him. Tommy still doesn't talk but seems to appreciate the gesture as he closes his eyes. They stay there until a bit of Tommy's colour returns. It's not enough. He's still pale but not because he feels sick.

Wilbur will never be able to bring his full colour back.

Tommy sighs and says, "Big man, your emotions are so easy to understand when you send 'em over like this. Chill, I'm fine!"

Wilbur flushes, as much as a vampire can, and says, "Oh, sorry, I didn't realize I was doing that..."

Tommy laughs, "It's fine. Payback for earlier, I guess. Sorry for waking you..."

Wilbur shakes his head, "No, it's fine. You didn't," then add, when Tommy looks unconvinced, "You aren't even loud in my head. It'd be worse if we had a full bond, but even then, I wouldn't fault you for accidentally waking me up that way!"

Tommy seems to stop at this. "Yeah, about that," and Wilbur pales, lighter than his actual skin colour, "Shouldn't we have a full bond?"

And it's not the question Wilbur was anticipating, but he fears it all the same.

A sire and fledgling bond can solidify only by shared blood. Meaning if Wilbur bit Tommy and drank from him, their bond would be a whole one, instead of this barely over half bond. Meaning Wilbur and Tommy will have telepathy. Meaning that they'd finally be complete. Together. As one part instead of this two-part deal, they've always been.

It's a perfect idea, in all honesty, a wonderful fantasy. However, it's just that.

A fantasy in a far-off land.

Because Wilbur will never bite or drink blood from Tommy. He made a promise when Tommy was much younger, and now that same boy is asking him to break it. And for once in his life, he has to say no to Tommy. He's never said no to a genuine request, one this serious, to Tommy. Now he has to because he's not strong enough to make them complete.

Images of a bloody-necked Tommy flash in his mind, and the boy smiles. His eyes are too red, his teeth too sharp in his eternal smile. His ears too pointed. Never-ending blood pools from two holes in his neck, perfectly fitting into the same place his old sire had put them. He looks happy, but it's so unsettling, too off-putting, that Wilbur has to close his eyes hard to get the image out of his mind.

His throat feels dry, and he can't speak. He knows Tommy is watching him, waiting for an answer- Waiting for him to speak- but he can't get anything out. Tommy deserves an answer. He's been through so much. He deserves a full sire-fledgling bond. He deserves better than Wilbur- A better sire, a better brother, a better friend- and he can't give it to him.

He's never said no to Tommy, and now he has to. Worse of all, it feels as awful as he's always imagined.

"No," He gets out, and it sounds strangled.

Tommy's face flashes in confusion and then understanding, and Wilbur has to look away. Tommy makes a sound. There is recognition in his voice, but Wilbur can also hear the disappointment. He feels awful. He will never understand how true parents can say no to their children and deal with disappointment so grand it makes you think you've failed.

Maybe he can understand, but he won't let himself.

"That's fine, Wil, I understand. C'mon, breath..." Tommy says, and Wilbur does. He doesn't want to disappoint him more. Tommy is smiling at him when he looks back, but he isn't happy.

Wilbur has to say something, "I- I am- I'm sorry, Tommy..."

Tommy shakes his head, "It's fine, Wilbur! Please... I'm not upset about it. I understand. I remember what I made you promise all those years ago, and I know you'd never break it..."

"I'm sorry. You deserve- I should- I just..." He can't find the words to say to justify his reasoning, "I'm sorry..."

Tommy grabs his hands and smiles, and he looks pulled together. Like he's trying to show that he's over it. "I trust you, Wilbur. I will be alright. Maybe someday you can, we can be... But for now, I'm fine!"

Wilbur nods, too upset to argue or protest. Tommy seems satisfied by his lack of protest and leans in to nuzzle his face into the taller's chest. "I love you, Wil..."

Wilbur, despite himself, smiles and says, "I love you too..." He isn't convinced, and maybe he'll never be, but for now, he ignores how guilty he feels. Instead, he just holds his brother because if he can't be a good sire, he can at least be a good brother. He's done that before, and he'll continue to be a good big brother, even if he can't be a good sire.

Chapter Text

Locating a place to shower isn't always easy when your home is a white near-windowless van, but Wilbur and Tommy make do. Life finds a way, as people say. If it didn't, then, what else can they do? It's not as if they have the tools or skills to build a working shower in a van on such short notice. Sure, given the time and proper tools, maybe. However, they don't have either of those.

The gyms that Wilbur is a patron of are few and far between, but he appreciates his membership to a more popular gym. Once they've returned to the road again, Wilbur actively searches for the nearest visitor's centre with a map of the next city. As soon as he finds one, and then locates the correct gym, he processes to drive there.

Once parked, the two vampires—neither Tommy nor Wilbur can process that yet—grab a pair of clean clothes and put them in a gym bag. Then they make their way in, and Wilbur tells Tommy to go into the bathrooms first while he checks in.

Tommy listens, roaming into the shower area as Wilbur points to him from the reception desk left of the front doors. Tommy makes eye contact with the receptionist and evades her repulsed gaze. As he enters the locker room, he wonders what that was about. He's never been looked at so harshly—in a gym, of all places.

Sure, many people have looked at him with disdain, pity and abhorrence throughout his eleven years of life but never this randomly. Utter confusion fills him at first until he walks into a shower area where his eyes meet his own reflection in the mirrors.

He nearly collapses to his knees at the sight of himself. There before him is a lanky but scrawny boy. He is pale, abnormally so, and his eye bags are so deep-seated they look like makeup. His lips and teeth are tinted slightly red from earlier. Worse of all are his eyes. The pupils that were once a perfect circle are now a thin, cat-like slit sitting verticle in the middle of his iris.

He breathes out, and the boy in the mirror breathes with him. With the bizarre recognition that the boy in the mirror is him, he resigns to his mind. Part of him is surprised he can even see himself at all—weren't vampires supposed to be invisible in the mirror?—and the only recognizable qualities he sees are his bright blond hair and classic red and white t-shirt. He would be lying if he said recognized anything else about himself.

He wrenches away, realizes he isn't breathing and gasps in a greedy gulp of air. Suddenly, a hand lands on his shoulder, and he jolts in shock before whipping around to see the culprit. He's ready to yell or swing at the creep touching an eleven-year-old in a locker room until he meets familiar red and brown coloured eyes and—

Oh, it's just Wilbur.

"Woah! Sorry!" Wilbur says, hands flying up in mock surrender, and Tommy wheezes loudly.

"Jesus, man!! Don't sneak up on a man when he's in the locker room, Wil! What are ya, a high school bully from 1976?!" Tommy exclaims, relieved no one was around to order him to quiet down.

Wilbur laughs, and Tommy can almost forget the receptionist's cruel glare from earlier. Wilbur says which shower he's going to before grabbing his clothes and walking off, leaving Tommy alone with his thoughts again. He quickly returns to the problem at hand.

His thoughts drift, and he wonders now that he's... Well, a vampire, will he always be looked at that way? Tommy remembers the times he's seen people, complete strangers and non-strangers, turn their noses up at Wilbur. He remembers harsh words like "Bloodsucker!" and "Vermin!" being shouted at Wilbur from the streets when they'd wander around town. It always made Tommy livid because Wilbur didn't choose to be a vampire.

He reckons that he and Wilbur really are the same as he sets their bag in a locker before he grabs a familiar red and white hoodie and ripped black jeans. He nabs a slightly smaller bag from the gym bag full of soap and shampoo, then trudges to an empty shower. Inside, he pulls the curtain closed, setting his clothes outside on the floor because there are no racks to safely set his clothes on without fear of getting them soaked. Really, who thought that was a good idea? Tommy bemoans.

He can barely control his relief as he flicks the warm water on and cleans the dirt from his aching body—it's been so long since he's showered. He still feels a dull ache from his turning, and he hopes that it'll disappear soon. He yearns he hadn't been turned, but there's nothing he can really do about it now. There's nothing anybody can do, no matter how apparent Wilbur's guilt is.

He thinks back to Wilbur and their shared bond. He worries about Wilbur and the guilt he'll feel over having this partial bond. Tommy doesn't feel anything about it, and if something inside him feels hollow and disappointed, then that's nobody's business but his. He isn't upset, and he definitely does not feel unworthy of a full sire-fledgling bond with Wilbur. No, definitely not...

No, he understands that Wilbur just can't complete their bond right now—maybe he never will. Wilbur promised never to bite him, never drink blood from him. He promised it a day after they'd first met. He recognized how scared Tommy was of him, despite Tommy's very best efforts to appear big and tough—which he is. He's massive—enormous, if you will, and please do because he is.

Wilbur would never break a promise, even one made to a random foster kid he didn't know that well and called a gremlin child. He was earnest about it, maybe a bit bitter and nervous if Tommy remembers correctly. Tommy understands why Wilbur won't because the idea of biting someone, digging two pointed fangs into someone's body gives him a queasy feeling in his stomach.

He understands that maybe they'll never be complete, but he's okay with that! 

Really! He is!

He is...

He shakes himself clear of his thoughts and turns the water off before he reaches down to open the bag he brought and grabs a towel. He's already used the soap and shampoo subconsciously because they're not in the bag anymore. Rather they're on the floor, and soap runs down the drain. He picks them up and cleans and dries them. Then he throws them back into the plastic bag and wraps himself up in the white towel he'd pulled out of the bag.

Once he's dry enough to put his clothes on, he does so—still inside the shower. Then he tosses the towel over his wet hair. He's sure if he smells his hair, it'd smell like the strawberry shampoo Wilbur bought him at the beginning of this road trip. It doesn't actually smell like real strawberries, but it's nice nonetheless.

He hears Wilbur still showering and rolls his eyes. If he wanted to, that man could take three whole hours in the shower. Typically, though, he only takes one. However, as soon as Tommy returns to the locker room, he hears the water stop. It's as if Wilbur can feel when he's not nearby, and it makes Tommy smile as he puts his bag of toiletries in the gym bag after opening the locker.

Then he takes a seat on a nearby bench and dries his hair while listening to the sounds of Wilbur in the other room. The rooms aren't separated by a door, rather, there is a big arch. Tommy doesn't mind the noise. He's always liked listening to Wilbur exist around him, doing menial tasks around the house or beside him in the van.

Wilbur will hum when he thinks he's alone. He taps on tables and other surfaces. He talks to himself, always in whispers, but Tommy can hear him clearer now—he blames that on his new enhanced senses. He has almost always lived around Wilbur, and he can't— doesn't want to—think of a time without him.

He was nine the day a sixteen-year-old Wilbur Soot was brought to the foster care centre. Sure, he didn't legitimately live with Wilbur until two weeks after meeting him, but Tommy feels as if he's lived his whole life with the man. He's all Tommy knows and all he wants to know forever. Guess that part is covered now, he supposes.

"Toms?" Wilbur's voice cuts through his thoughts suddenly, and he blinks up. Wilbur smiles patiently at him. He smiles back, showing that he's just spacing off, and Wilbur repeats something he must have already said, "You ready to go now?"

Wilbur has on a familiar multicoloured striped shirt. Tommy's always liked how it looked on him. At the top, it's a muted yellow, not too muted but enough to tell the difference, and it has cyan at the bottom. Best of all are the white stripes that separate the colours and cover the sweater. He also has ripped black jeans, just as Tommy does.

Tommy nods and says, "Yup!" while popping the 'p' sound. He stands up and grabs their gym bag, now filled with both of their stuff again. Then they leave the locker room, ignoring the odd look from the receptionist as they exit the building. Tommy wonders if he'll never get her harsh stare out of his head.

Once back in the car, they relax. After a moment, Wilbur turns to him with a serious expression. "I have to ask, are you still comfortable going to Phil's? I know we don't have anywhere else, but I could figure something out if you want to stop this who-"

Tommy cuts him off with an odd question he's been meaning to ask, "Do you think Phil'll like me?"

Wilbur stops in surprise and blinks at him before smiling—all lop-sided and syrupy sweet. "He'd- He'll love you, Tommy... Is that a yes, then?"

Tommy smiles, "Of course, Wil! Let's go meet our coven members!" It feels a bit odd coming out of his mouth—he's so new to all of this—but Wilbur smiles all the same and nods. He takes a deep breath and turns his attention back toward the steering wheel.

"Yeah, let's go meet our coven members."

Chapter Text

After three days of continuous driving, only stopping at night to sleep, and when absolutely necessary, Tommy starts to feel the effects of his turning. The constant driving was repetitive and boring, but it was routine, and, therefore, Wilbur appreciated the monotony.

He's always liked routine and hates when it's interrupted. Typically, he's the one who interrupts his own routine, and he can deal with that. However, when someone else does, it's harder for him to get back on track, and he knows this.

He knows that Phil's isn't too far away now—it'll take maybe another three whole days of driving until they're there. He also knows that Tommy's ears and fangs will start growing soon. It'll interrupt his routine, and Wilbur won't be able to focus on driving when Tommy is hurting. If Tommy is in pain and Wilbur can help ease that pain, he will.

So, naturally, when Tommy rolls over in the passenger seat and groans that everything hurts, Wilbur pulls over at a rest stop. He pulls Tommy to the back of the van and smiles reassuringly at the worried expression Tommy wears. "It's nothing bad. I'm sure it's just growing pains. Now, lemme see your ears."

Tommy tilts and turns his head for Wilbur to examine his ears. Sure enough, there is a small point to them; after a month, they'll grow a bit longer and more pointy. They'll hurt to grow in. The pain of them and vampire teeth isn't as painful as the turning process itself; however, it is still painful.

It hurts like new teeth growing in faster than they should because, technically, teeth are growing but in a different way. After the first week, the pain is bearable and dull. Wilbur sighs softly and nods, "Alright, yeah, just as I thought. Your ears and fangs are growing in. Can I look at your teeth? I need to make sure they'll grow in without issue..."

Tommy nods, but when Wilbur grabs him gently by the jaw, he groans and tries to pull away. Wilbur eases slightly and nods, then pulls Tommy close again.

"I know, I'm sorry..." Wilbur sympathizes as he pulls Tommy's lips up to get a better look at his teeth.

Tommy's teeth look healthy, rightfully so, because Tommy's never had dental issues in the past. His dentist always said how good of a job he did when it came to cleaning and maintaining his teeth's health. His teeth and ears should be fine; they'll grow in without a hitch.

Knowing this doesn't ease the paranoia in the back of Wilbur's head.

Once Wilbur lets go of Tommy's jaw, Tommy snaps his mouth shut, then parts it again in pain, his a soft hiss and, "Ow."

Wilbur laughs softly, "Yeah, it'll hurt for this week, but it should get better after that. Before ya know it, a month'll pass, and they'll be all grown!" Wilbur rubs Tommy's shoulders and adds, "We're gonna stay here until you don't hurt as much because I can't focus if you're in pain. I'd rather not crash..."

The 'even though we wouldn't die from that' goes unsaid because they both know it. It doesn't need to be said, so it's not.

Tommy buries his face further into Wilbur and sighs loudly. It's been six of the seven days, and he's already feeling way better than he did at the beginning of this week—Tommy still thinks it's bullshit that he has to suffer through a turning coma and then hurt more because it's not entirely over, Wilbur agrees with him.

Although, the pain isn't terrible. Sure, everything aches, especially when he snaps his jaw shut or brushes his ears on anything, but it's not awful.

The growing pains are nothing compared to the pain of being turned. He doesn't remember much, but unfortunately, what he does remember is the pain. Being turned felt like your whole body being pulled apart by the freshly sharpened teeth of an animal, then pushed back together like two broken puzzle pieces.

The pain of a vampire turning hurt worse than when he fell down the stairs at school and broke his arm a few years ago. It was worse than any punch, kick or slap from foster parents. It was worse than anything he'd ever felt, so of course, the pain he feels now is nothing compared to that. He even feels good enough for them to keep driving.

Wilbur disagrees.

He's been trying to convince Wilbur that he's fine, but Wilbur is stubborn. Tommy is stubborn too, and he hates how alike they are. Brothers and all that. He hates it—he doesn't actually hate it, but he'll never admit that.

"Willll, c'mon! You said we're almost there, right? Let's just get there already!!" Tommy exclaims, dragging out the letters with a whiny tone.

Wilbur scratches with gentle fingernails against his scalp—Tommy definitely doesn't think it feels nice. He definitely does not start purring, okay? He doesn't! No one can prove he was purring, definitely not Wilbur, who was purring right back with fervour.

"No, I won't be able to focus. Just give it one more day; I'll be fine to drive by then..." He's lying. Tommy knows all of Wilbur's tell—shifty eyes, slowed speech, fidgeting. Tommy knew Wilbur wouldn't be okay as long as he was in pain. Wilbur was too empathetic.

Tommy groans at the kiss pressed to his hairline, then declares proudly, "You're a gross, smelly, stubborn man. Evil, I say."

Wilbur laughs softly, resting his chin atop Tommy's golden curls. "Yeah?" He eggs Tommy on. He loves how creative his insults can be when Tommy wants them to be, so Tommy smiles as he mulls over insult after insult.

Tommy nods into his chest and continues, "I look at your face and say, why do people look at that? It's weird, you're weird!" He smiles proudly when Wilbur rolls his eyes playfully. Tommy quickly adds, "Ugly, stupid bastard."

Wilbur blinks at him, "Stupid, hm? You literally tried eating grass yesterday." Wilbur retorts, recalling the events of the other day.

Tommy had wanted to go outside because he missed the warm, delicate light of the moon. So they did. They were at a rest stop surrounded by a small forest clearing—perfect for lying in. Tommy did just so, sprawling across the green grass and picking at the weeds and flowers around him. Wilbur laid down beside him and did anything Tommy wanted.

A part of Tommy knew that Wilbur was trying to make up for their incomplete bond, but he ignored that. He opted for rolling around in the grass and braiding flower stems into each other instead. He brought the handfuls of grass, flowers, and weeds to his face and smiled at them.

He thought they looked tasty for some odd reason.

When he thought Wilbur wasn't looking, he tried to take a bite of the grassy handfuls, giving into the intrusive thought. He didn't actually want to eat the grass, so he was glad Wilbur stopped him. "Tommy! Don't eat that, the hell?"

Tommy blinked at him, dumped the grass into his lap before he tried again, and said, "The mind bug said I must."

The 'Mind Bug' was what he and Wilbur called intrusive thoughts because when Tommy was younger, he'd called them that, for lack of a better word.

Wilbur rolled his eyes, "And what did we say about the mind bug?"

Tommy sighed and laid back in the grass, "Just because the thoughts are mine doesn't mean I have to listen to them and do them, I know... 'S just been a while since I've heard 'em..." Wilbur also laid back and hummed, unsure of how to answer.

"Oh, Wilbur, I said I don't want to talk about that!" Tommy exclaims, face red at the memory. Wilbur bellows with laughter, like the bastard he is. Tommy buries his face in Wilbur's chest and growls at him—embarrassment crawling at his skin.

After calming down, Wilbur says again, "I promise we'll be back on the road tomorrow. Until then, can I take care of my fledgling?"

Tommy pouts, trying to ignore how the word 'fledgling' repeats like a mantra in his mind and huffs. "Yeah, yeah, whatever."

Then Tommy, to himself, adds, "Back on the road tomorrow..."

Chapter Text

Wilbur is typically the one between him and Tommy to wake up first. Waking up before Tommy had always eased any anxiety Wilbur had about their situation. Whenever he got worried for the blond's safety, he'd wake up and relax upon tossing his head into Tommy's room in the current foster home.

Sleeping in the same room—van—made that anxiety so much easier to manage. He didn't have to get up, carefully crawl down hallways or stairs and turn door handles gently to open closed doors just to see his little brother sleeping peacefully in bed. No, all he had to do was turn over or look down at the bundle of limbs and golden locks in his arms.

Wilbur felt his instinct latch onto this as well, and he briefly worried about having to separate himself from Tommy at night once they got to Phil's—that is, if Phil even let them stay. He has no idea how he'll be able to cope if he has to sleep alone again after weeks of sleeping so close to his brother—fledgling.

Instincts scream at the idea of not protecting his fledgling—baby, tiny, not safe, protect, danger—and he barely conceals a growl reflexively. He glances down and immediately calms down at the sight of Tommy nestled securely in his arms, face smashed into Wilbur's muted yellow sweater.

There is a pool of drool where Tommy's open mouth is pressed into his sweater, and Wilbur grimaces but doesn't move the boy. Wilbur plays with his golden hair instead. He twirls strands between his fingers and traces circles into Tommy's back, not trying to wake him up but knowing full well how light of a sleeper Tommy is—the idea temporarily perturbs him because he knows Tommy wasn't always a light sleeper. Though slowly and surely, Tommy awakens, and Wilbur puts the thought on the back burner.

Tommy groans and pulls his head away from Wilbur's chest, eyes mulling over the van before landing on Wilbur. Wilbur smiles—warmth and instincts sent down their shared bond—and Tommy groans again with a lighthearted glare. "Morning, Tommy!" Wilbur exclaims as the blond buries his head back under the crook of Wilbur's neck.

Tommy is dangerously close to Wilbur's bite scar from his turning, but Wilbur couldn't care less. Tommy mutters an angry, "Shut up." Wilbur doesn't even care that when Tommy's mouth moves, it brushes over the scar, hidden only by a thin layer of fabric. It would probably make any other non-coven-related vampire violent or anxious, but Wilbur knows Tommy would never hurt him.

Wilbur laughs softly, "C'mon, it's time to wake up, sleepy head! You gotta eat, then you can go back to sleep if you'd like, okay?" Tommy shivers slightly at the prospect of what 'eating' means but pulls away from Wilbur's neck nonetheless.

Wilbur smiles at Tommy as he takes off one side of the bandaid—the one has been wearing since Tommy secured it there— and Tommy tries to look away when Wilbur bites into his own skin. He's somewhat successful in his attempts to control the overwhelming bloodlust he probably feels, but not entirely. After a few seconds, he lurches forward before Wilbur can even prepare. It seems like he's losing control of his bloodlust more and more by the day.

When Wilbur jolts, Tommy realizes what he's done and tries to pull away. His hands are wrapped aggressively around Wilbur's upper arm, and his mouth is mere inches away from the bleeding holes in the brunet's wrist. Before Tommy can pull away, Wilbur says, "It's okay, we can work on your control later. Just drink. I'm not hurt, just startled. You're alright, sweet fledgling..."

Hesitantly, Tommy relaxes and digs his baby vampire teeth into the two holes. His fangs are dull and barely go into Wilbur's wound, but Tommy drinks blood slowly from Wilbur's wrist regardless. Wilbur rubs his back as he does and smiles at how much Tommy takes—he's gotten so much better at taking as much blood as he needs, and Wilbur is so proud of him. Wilbur shares his feelings with Tommy—proud, proud, proud.

Tommy smiles against his wrist and eventually pulls away, licking at his teeth as Wilbur reapplies the bandaid. Lazily, Tommy tries to nuzzle back into Wilbur again, but unfortunately, Wilbur has to push him off.

Wilbur gets off the mattress, lays Tommy down in his place, and says, "Sorry, but I've gotta drive. We're three days of driving away, Toms."

The blond pouts but sighs, "Fine, then I'm gonna sleep. Wake me when we get there."

Wilbur rolls his eyes and says, "I'm sure you won't sleep for three whole days. Besides, I've gotta wake you up to eat and shit, but sure. Whatever."

"Bend to my will, bitch." Tommy declares triumphantly, and Wilbur rolls his eyes as he chambers into the front seat, buckling his seatbelt before starting the van.

When the van kicks to life, Wilbur looks through the rearview mirror and smiles at the sight of Tommy lying on the mattress with his eyes shut peacefully. Then before he backs the van up to get out of their current spot, he checks the map and notes his route and the roads he should be driving on. Then, just like that, they're back on the road again.

They are not lost, okay? Wilbur did not get them lost, he's just— This map is wrong, but that's fine! They're not lost, they're just—

Wilbur and Tommy are lost.

Nearly seven hours had passed since they woke up—Tommy sleeping through 3 of those—and they were one city closer to Phil's commune neighbourhood. Tommy clawed his way into the passenger side a few minutes after waking up three hours ago, and they'd been fine.

That was until they drove up to see the road they were supposed to go on closed for construction. Wilbur, naturally, freaked out while Tommy held the map and directed him to a possible detour. However, that wasn't successful either, and now they are parked in a gas station parking lot, freaking out.

Well, Wilbur is freaking out. He hates when plans and ideas don't go correctly, he likes routine and hates when it's disturbed. Tommy is holding Wilbur's bandaged wrist while talking the frantic brunet down, and it reminds him of their time in the foster care centre—where Wilbur would get major panic attacks and have meltdowns, and Tommy was the only one who could calm him down when the staff couldn't.

"Wil, Wilbur. I need you to breathe with me, okay?" Tommy tries, but all he can hear is Wilbur accidentally sending emotions of fear, worry, and self-hatred down their bond.

Instincts scream things Tommy doesn't even understand—sire, upset, help, solve, comfort, calm, sire, sire, sire—so Tommy does the only thing his mind can think of. "Sire, please!"

In an instant, Wilbur freezes and snaps his attention to Tommy. His eyes are as wide as saucers, and his breathing is erratic, but he's staring intently at Tommy. Momentarily, Tommy thinks he's done something wrong by saying the word aloud. However, when Tommy sees how quickly Wilbur's breathing slows ever so slightly, he stops worrying.

Tommy sighs, "Wil, I need you to breathe exactly like me. Can you do that?"

Wilbur doesn't answer with words, but he nods, and there's a brief moment where the word 'shame' passes through his and Wilbur's bond. Tommy ignores it for now and focuses on getting Wilbur to stop to calm down. To stop accidentally sharing his emotions, to stop putting himself down because of a simple—fixable—problem.

Soon enough, Wilbur is copying Tommy's exaggerated, slow breathing. Tommy nods with pride and shares his emotions with Wilbur, who preens under the praise and casts his gaze away briefly. Once they make eye contact again, Wilbur is significantly better, and Tommy smiles at him. "There ya go, Wilbs..." Tommy adds softly.

Wilbur smiles shamefully back at Tommy and shakily says, "Sorry..."

Tommy shakes his head, "Don't apologize! It's okay, Wil. Let's just relax for a second, and then we can figure out the map situation." Wilbur nods but doesn't look convinced, so Tommy adds, "We'll find our way there, and if we have to ditch the van and walk, then that's not our problem. We have each other, that's all we need. Right?"

Wilbur's expression softens, "Of course, but I'm not gonna let that happen. We'll find a way to get there with the van."

Tommy nods, "I know, just saying that's an option too if we have nothing else..."

Wilbur leans over and presses a kiss with dry, chapped lips to Tommy's hairline. "Yes, and it's great that you're thinking of all our options. You are so smart and amazing, and I hope you never forget it."

Wilbur pauses, lips still resting against Tommy's hairline, and lets the words sink in before he adds, "But I'm also not letting that happen, okay? I'm just freaking out, but you helped. You always do. So, I'll find a different way home, okay?"

Tommy huffs, the kind words and affection making his brain fuzzy, and rolls his eyes. "We'll find a way, you sappy bastard. I'm never helping you again," he declares, ignoring how Wilbur called Phil's house 'home.' Tommy lightly bats at Wilbur's shoulder, "Can we just look at the map now?"

Wilbur laughs softly and pulls away from Tommy's hairline after a minute. "Fine, gimme the map. Let's find a better way home..."

Tommy tries to ignore the word 'home' again, but his undead heart jolts in his chest and snaps his jaw shut—ignoring the pain that brought to his growing teeth—and nods. After a painful minute of awkward silence, Tommy hands the map to Wilbur wordlessly.

Thirty minutes later, they find an alternate route, and now they're no longer lost in a city they have no idea about.

Wilbur chooses to lose him in driving, peaceful listening to Tommy jam out to the shitty radio in their shittier van. If Wilbur could choose anything in the world, he'd decide to give Tommy the best of every good thing. He deserves it, and there's nothing Wilbur could ever wish for more than that.

The two have about eight more hours until midnight eventually rears its old head. Then, they'll be two days closer to meeting—well, re-meeting for Wilbur—Phil. Wilbur feels the buzz of anxiety tingle under his skin at the thought and flexes his hands on the steering wheel, ever silent like a statue.

He isn't sure what to make of Phil, even after four years of hating his guts. Though, really, what was there for Wilbur to hate? The fact that Phil found him mangled outside on the man's front porch? That Phil took him in while he was groaning and screaming in pain from his turning? That Phil loved and took care of him like a son when Wilbur no longer had anyone? Phil was all Wilbur had, without Tommy, that feels as close to family as anyone else in the world.

Phil took him in, and although Wilbur doesn't remember any of it, he knows that Phil cared for him the whole time. He gave Wilbur blood from his own sire to save him, a child whose life had been stolen from under his tiny feet far too early. Phil didn't even know him, not much, at least. Wilbur had a closer relationship with Techno, Phil's sire, than with the old blond vampire himself.

Technoblade had played with a much younger Wilbur when things were good. Wilbur's parent's home wasn't too far from Phil's—if he remembers correctly, they were on the same block—and Wilbur was forever a curious child. Wilbur also loved flowers.

Technoblade and Phil's place had a ton in the front yard, and how could Wilbur deny himself from looking?

The morning that Technoblade had found a seven-year-old brunet in his yard, he'd been so confused and concerned. Wilbur had giggled with handfuls of the precious purple hyacinths Techno tented to so carefully waving around happily—purple hyacinth meant asking for forgiveness and a deep sense of regret. Though Wilbur only found that out a day later, and if Techno had a problem about his favourite flowers being destroyed, he said nothing about it.

So, really, it was surprising that it hadn't been Techno to take care of Wilbur when he was turned. Sure, it was his blood, like a lifeline, that kept Wilbur alive. However, Phil told him the pink-haired man—his natural colour was brown, but Wilbur wouldn't rat Phil out to Techno if he asked where Wilbur'd heard that from, he had some respect for Phil—had stayed far away from the weeping fledgling throughout the whole process. When Wilbur asked, Phil said something about past memories, so Wilbur didn't push.

Even still, he hardly knew Techno, let alone Phil. So, safe to say he was rightfully shocked when he came out of his vampiric coma to find himself sitting in a comfortable bed with fitted white sheets and green accents. He'd freaked out, his panic waking Phil at midnight, and proceeded to have a panic attack and pass out upon seeing the old vampire rush into the room at him.

When Wilbur left—at midnight nearly two years after being with Phil— Phil must've been devastated. He'd bonded with Wilbur, a space craved out in his heart that no longer beat. A bond they both still feel tugged at them like it was desperate to pull Wilbur home, and Wilbur could deny it no longer. He hopes Phil still has a place for him, even if it's not in his heart but rather in his home.

Blinking out of his stupor, Wilbur refocuses his attention on the road. It is a miracle he hasn't crashed at all yet. He isn't a very skilled driver because of the terrible teacher he'd had, and on top of that, he dissociates far too much for it to be safe. He assumes his autopilot brain is working to keep himself un-noticeably focused, able to latch on to one monotonous task while his thoughts crash over him like a raging ocean.

In his peripheral, he sees Tommy staring at him, and he wonders briefly if he's accidentally shared emotions with the blond in his dissociation. He doesn't have to wonder for too long because Tommy speaks up before Wilbur can think, "Wil? You good?"

Mildly, he worries about what he's shared. He'll have to learn how to close off their bond in fear of accidentally scaring the boy with his rapidly shifting emotions. He'll figure that out later, he'll have so much time to research once he and Tommy are safe and settled down somewhere. He glances at Tommy and gives a brief smile, turning to face the boy before refocusing on the road again.

"Yeah, sorry. Just overthinking too much for my own good..." He mumbles, and Tommy visibly relaxes in the passenger seat, acting nonchalant as if he wasn't sitting at a rigid 90° angle a second ago.

Tommy nods and closes his eyes, "Ah, the brain fog again. Very daring to do that while driving," As if seeming to realize how serious that is, Tommy sits up frantically. "Actually, wait, can you not do that? I'd like to live and not crash!"

Mildly, Wilbur grimaces at the thought in the back of his mind. You won't die even if I did crash. We both wouldn't, and maybe I should— Wilbur cut the intrusive thought off, speaking impulsively, "Easier said than done."

It comes out far harsher than he'd meant it to, and he instantly feels shame at the recoil Tommy does in his peripheral. He shares his regret, and Tommy relaxes ever so slightly. Tommy starts to speak as if to apologize for everything wrong he's ever done in his eleven years of living, but Wilbur cuts him off with a sigh.

"No, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to sound so mad. I just had a bad thought and spoke too quickly. I apologize, Toms." Wilbur says as he switches lanes before glancing at Tommy.

The blond smiles and Wilbur anxiously snaps his attention back to the road. He's never liked looking away for too long. "It's okay, Wil. You sure you're okay?" Tommy asks as he pulls his knees up to his chest protectively. The action makes Wilbur mildly upset, both at the fact that he's caused that reaction and that someone made Tommy feel the need to protect his vital organs.

He ignores the violence swimming around in his head and nods slowly. "I think so, maybe... I think it's just nerves, I've been thinking about Phil." It's hard to admit feelings, he doesn't feel jittery because of nerves. He feels too much more than that. He feels pure guilt and anxiety curling in his gut at the idea of being near Phil again, seeing him.

The idea of Phil pushing them—pushing Wilbur—away eats at him. He hears the intrusive thought from earlier as if it were a leech that latched to his brain. He hears and sees dark, horrible images of people bleeding and torn apart on the ground with him and terrified Tommy in the middle of all. This isn't just nerves.

Although Tommy seems to understand. He's never been good at feelings either, however, he's better than Wilbur. "Yeah, I understand that. I'm hella anxious about it too..." Wilbur nods sympathetically.

"I'm sure he'll love you, Tommy..." Then after a humourless laugh, adds, "Spitting image of 'im..."

Tommy blinks at him in confusion, "Huh?"

Wilbur laughs, more genuine this time, and says, "You look like you'd be his biological son, blond hair, blue eyes. Or, well, partially blue for Phil, I guess. He's still young in vampire years..."

Tommy seems interested and nods at him encouragingly, so Wilbur adds, "I'll tell you more about him if you go get ready for bed?"

Tommy's smile drops for a moment, but then he decides it's worth it. It is night now, after all. The blond rolls his dull blue eyes and reluctantly agrees, "Fine, gimme a sec..."

"Don't worry, I will. I've still got to find a place to park for tonight..." Wilbur replies as he drives off the highway exit and scans the area for any good parking lot as Tommy claws his way into the back of the van.

Wilbur is going to throw up.

He's going to be sick, and he knows it. He can feel it, the horribly familiar churning feeling gathering in his gut. His hands are slick with sweat, yet they white-knuckle grip the steering wheel like his life depends on it. If he weren't driving, his feet would shake and bounce up and down with anxiety.

He feels lightheaded, and memories flood his vision as his eyes search the nicely paved streets and houses of a suburban area all too familiar. Nowhere he looks is safe, even if this isn't the neighbourhood he's familiar with. It is similar, however, which is why they're even here right now.

Wilbur and Tommy have made it to the town Phil lives in, the one Wilbur grew up in. After two full days of driving and an additional eighteen hours, they have arrived. It was nearly midnight, another hour, and they were sort of lost again. This being entirely Wilbur's fault. It was Wilbur's fault they were driving down every street in suburban areas.

If Wilbur had only been paying attention when he ran away, maybe this wouldn't be happening. If Wilbur didn't run away in the first place, this wouldn't be happening right now. He wouldn't be panicking to the point of nausea, and he wouldn't be worrying Tommy and—

Tommy.

If Wilbur had never run away, he wouldn't have met Tommy. He definitely doesn't want to imagine a world without Tommy in it, so maybe it was a good thing he ran away. It's better that he ran away; otherwise, he would've never found Tommy—or maybe Tommy found him, Wilbur wasn't sure.

The idea of Tommy alone made him panic more. Tommy being lonely, beaten and crying with no one to comfort him worsens the nausea in Wilbur's stomach, and he has to spare a glance at the tired boy beside him. Tommy isn't alone. He isn't beaten up. He isn't crying, and he certainly has someone to comfort him if he does start crying. Tommy is okay.

Tommy is staring at him. Tommy knows. Wilbur can see it immediately with how the blond's eyes soften at him. Tommy is speaking, but Wilbur can't really hear him. All he hears is a soft, "—you pull over?"

So, he does. He always listens to Tommy—not always—and he doesn't want to crash because he'll hurt Tommy. He doesn't want that, and he's never wanted that. Even when he got mad at Tommy. Even when Tommy rips his feelings to shreds when he's angry—he always apologizes afterwards, and Wilbur always forgives because it isn't Tommy's fault that he's been conditioned to believe anger is the only option when upset.

He doesn't want Tommy to be hurt. So, he pulls the van over and parks it by the sidewalk. When the car stops and stays that way, Wilbur feels tension slipping from his white-knuckled fingers. He rips his hands away from the steering wheel in surprise. His hands hurt. How long had he been gripping that?

There's a tap on his shoulder as Wilbur stares at his shaky hands that are gaining colour again—they'll never be fully red again. Wilbur snaps his gaze away and glances at Tommy, the source of the tap. Tommy is speaking, his lips are moving, and his hands are held out in front of him, but Wilbur can't hear anything but himself.

He can hear the rumble of the car, and the static sound inside his head only grows at the sound. Subconsciously, he closes his eyes and bawls his hands up into fists. That hurts, so he straightens them and absent-mindedly flaps them in the air.

After a few moments and the horrible feeling of someone brushing against his hands accidentally, but the rumble stops. Belatedly, Wilbur realizes that Tommy has turned the car off, and he's very grateful. He's sure Tommy knows because Wilbur isn't very good at keeping emotions to himself and their shared bond is too convenient of a solution to his inability to talk about his feelings, especially with his current meltdown.

Sensory overload, he scolds absently. He doesn't like calling this a meltdown because that's what toddlers in groceries stores have. He's not a toddler. He's a legal adult—not really, he died at fourteen, and he'll permanently be that even if he ages mentally or physically.

He can't hear Tommy, but he can hear Tommy's emotions, which makes him guilty. It also adds to the noise in his head. Though, instead of making him more upset like it would if it were anyone other than Tommy, it calms him. Sure, he feels guilty for worrying and scaring Tommy, but at least he's feeling something other than overwhelmed.

Eventually, he calms down enough to hear Tommy's true voice instead of the one in his head. The blond is calm, but there's an evident panic behind the tone. The pitch and tempo of his voice give it away, sharp and faster than it should be.

"Okay, there ya go. Can you breathe with me?" Tommy is saying, and Wilbur wants to scoff—he doesn't need to breathe because he's dead—but suppresses it. Tommy is only trying to help, and Wilbur is breathing quite quickly.

How is that even possible? He's dead. His body doesn't work or look as it should. It hasn't in four years. His heart doesn't beat, yet blood still runs through his veins. His skin is no longer the colour it used to be, it's paler, yet it isn't as white as a sheet of paper or rotting. His lungs stopped working four years ago, yet they still pull in air he doesn't really need for survival. He can't die, yet his body still believes it can, and it panics at the lack of oxygen.

So, he breathes. He watches as Tommy's chest rises and falls dramatically and copies. He coughs and sputters as his body and brain pretend they have been starved of that precious air he doesn't really need, and it feels useless. However, he doesn't stop copying Tommy. He also realizes, as it accidentally smacks him in the face, that he's still waving a hand back and forth in the air.

He doesn't stop until he's completely calm and breathing as correctly as his undead body can muster. It's ragged and broken, but Tommy still smiles at him, so he feels accomplished. Tommy reaches out as if to grab Wilbur's hands but retracts them hesitantly. Wilbur's lips quirk, chapped areas making themselves known at the pull, making him notice how dry his lips and throat are.

"Can— Can I...?" Tommy trails off carefully, and Wilbur nods likewise.

"Yeah, go ahead," he croaks, voice breaking, and he coughs at the scratchiness of his throat. Tommy's eyes widen, and he reaches over to the cup holder and grabs a bottle of water he'd snuck into their gas station order a few hours ago.

He doesn't pass it to Wilbur, but Tommy holds it up to Wilbur's mouth once it's open. Wilbur flushes, as much as his pale skin allows, and shamefully accepts the help from the younger. Tommy probably knew his hands would shake too much if Wilbur had to drink it himself, clever kid.

Wilbur doesn't even realize Tommy has grabbed his hand until Tommy is pulling the water bottle away and putting it back single-handedly. Tommy's thumb brushes slowly against the back of Wilbur's hand, giving him goosebumps—touch has always done this to him, and he loves how it makes his skin buzz and his head fuzzy.

He and Tommy are the same way with touch, even if a certain blond tries to deny it. Wilbur would always shut him up when he lied about being touch-starved by gently brushing his permanently cold finger against Tommy's cheek. Almost instantly, the younger would freeze up, and his eyes would go wide. Then, slowly but surely, he'd melt into the hand and close his eyes. Goosebumps raging over his skin, Tommy would nuzzle in and bring a shaky hand to wrap around Wilbur's wrist.

Wilbur thought he'd die from the pure adoration he held for the boy in those moments. His resolve would crash, and he'd stare lovingly. Then he'd snap out of it and coo loudly, ruining said moment and earning an embarrassed glare from a red-faced Tommy as he shook out the hold. Those were some of Wilbur's best memories with Tommy, but he isn't sure he could really rank them if he tried.

Belatedly, Wilbur realizes he's spaced out again when he hears Tommy call out, "Wil?"

He blinks and refocuses on Tommy, and nods. Tommy smiles patiently, and Wilbur flushes slightly in embarrassment, but before he can apologize, Tommy asks, "You back with me? No more panicky feelings?"

Wilbur nods, and when he speaks, his throat doesn't feel or sound as bad, "Yeah, yes. I'm much better now, thank you..."

Tommy's smile widens, and he excitedly says, "Of course, Wilbs!!" His smile fades, and he adds, "What happened, Wil?"

The brunet sighs and shakes his head, "It's just— This is all too familiar... It feels weird to be back in this town, and I don't know. Memories, I guess." Tommy nods slowly as his thumb rubs circles into Wilbur's hand.

"I see... You still okay with all this?" He asks after a moment, and Wilbur nods.

"Of course, I'm just anxious... I don't—I don't want to be turned away. We've both been turned away so much, and this is all we have left—well, expect other, of course..." Wilbur admits quietly, and Tommy nods understandingly.

They don't speak for a while, and Wilbur relaxes as the silence continues. Then before he knows it, he's pulling his hand out of Tommy's hold and placing it back on the steering wheel. Tommy quickly speaks before he can do anything else, "You good to continue? I mean, you just had a panic attack. Or maybe it was sensory overload... I can't tell..."

"It was kinda both but yeah. Seriously, I'm good to continue. We're almost there, I can feel it." Wilbur says, because he can feel it.

It's like there's a string connecting him to Phil, and if he follows it, he'll end up right in Phil's lap. He assumes it's the bond he and Phil somewhat share because he can feel the same thing with Tommy—although much stronger because of their shared bond, and he's sure it'd be even stronger if they had a full sire-fledgling bond.

Tommy nods beside him and says, "Okay, so how far do ya think?"

"It can't be more than forty minutes away, maybe. I don't know, but this area is somewhat familiar. Maybe it's just because every suburban area looks like this, but still..." Wilbur trails off as he starts the car again.

Tommy shifts in his seat as the car moves again. Wilbur ignores how loud the hum of the van is and focuses on following the bond to Phil, like a personal map in his heart. Houses of similar size, colour and shape pass as Wilbur drives and drives. Tommy watches out the window at the houses, almost all with no lights because of the black sky above them.

Wilbur glances at the clock. It's currently 11:45 pm, and belatedly, Wilbur realizes that this is the exact time he started packing the night he ran away. He quickly averts his gaze and continues driving. Suddenly, his mental compass slows, and Wilbur scans the area for anything he remembers. Then he sees it.

There on the left side of the road, Wilbur and Tommy are on, is a pale green house. The roof is brown, and it looks more like a cottage in the woods than a typical suburban house. The house is primarily made of wood and a beautiful black iron, and there are white accents on the windows and flower boxes at the foundation. The flowers make Wilbur stop and pull over in front of the house.

Purple hyacinths. Right here, he'd found them as a child. They're clearly still being cared for, and he can practically see how they preen even in the moonlight. There aren't as many flowers as Wilbur remembers, but the fact that there are so many is enough for Wilbur to stop the can altogether.

Tommy turns to him with excitement and asks, "Is this it, you think?"

Wilbur nods hesitantly. "I believe so... I hope so, but we—"

Tommy turns as Wilbur speaks and cuts him off with a pointed finger pressing to the window. "Wil! Look! There's a light on!! They're probably awake!! We have to go knock now before they go to sleep!" And before Wilbur can say no, Tommy unbuckles himself and opens the door. Then he adds, "C'mon!!"

"Wait—!" Wilbur calls as he clambers out of the van after Tommy. Following the tether he has to Tommy in his soul, Wilbur is begrudgingly dragged out of the van and metaphorically pulled to Tommy's side at the beautiful white door. The blond turns to Wilbur shyly, as if he didn't just burst out of the van a second ago.

"C'mon, Wil, he's your sire... You knock!" Tommy whisper-yells at him, and Wilbur sighs.

"Fine, but if this is the wrong house or we wake them up, I'm blaming this on you." Tommy nods and shifts behind him at the doorstep. Some protective part of Wilbur preens at the action, but he turns his attention to the door.

He sighs, and it takes a while, but he eventually gathers up the confidence to raise his arm to the door. He hesitates and instinctively glances back at Tommy. The blond relaxes and smiles with a quick nod before he says, "It's okay, Wil. Take your time..."

Wilbur nods and takes a deep breath. He turns back to the white wooden door and nods to himself as he readjusts his shaky arm. He closes his eyes momentarily and then, before he can stop himself, brings his closed fist to the door.

And, at the dead of midnight, he knocks.

Chapter Text

Phil is startled awake at the sound of knocking coming from his front door. Still half asleep, he groans and sits up. He glances around his dark room with confusion. Then, slowly, he kicks his feet off the bed and moves subconsciously to his bedroom door.

It's almost robotic how he opens the dark spruce wood door and walks down the hall towards the front door. His hand drags along the wall for support, and he stops briefly in front of Techno's door, half debating waking him up or not. He ultimately decides not to wake his sire and heads for the door. He can faintly hear speaking from the front door, but his ears are filled with an unknown static, and he can't hear the words those at the door express.

Who could possibly be at the door at... Phil glances around and, on a nearby clock, spots the time. At midnight? Phil wonders as he approaches the door.

Like an idiot, he doesn't look through the peephole—blame that on his half-awake brain—and grabs the door handle. As he opens it, he hears the sound of a familiar voice nervously saying, "C'mon Toms, let's just go back to the—"

The voice cuts off when the door swings into the dark house—there's light coming from somewhere in the house, but the living room and entrance are mostly unlit—and the man at the door whips his head back, meeting Phil's eyes. This tall brunet's eyes are half red and half brown—a familiar brown that Phil can't place in his foggy mind.

There's movement from behind the brunet, and Phil's eyes instinctively shoot down. A few inches down is a blond kid—probably about preteen age—but Phil can hardly see him from behind the brunet who is protective covering the blond. Phil glances back in confusion, and it dawns on him before he can ask who.

The familiar tug of his depressing soul bond isn't there. Instead, it's as if it was never there in the first place. The brunet and his familiarity and the blond behind him. It all makes sense, and Phil nearly stumbles into the familiar teen—adult now—at the realization.

Wilbur Soot, the same Wilbur Soot who ran away from him four years ago, is standing at his door with a child protective hiding behind him.

Phil's eyes go wide as Wilbur shuffles nervously, and Phil realizes he hasn't spoken a word to him yet. Unfortunately, "Wilbur?" is all he can muster out as the cogs in his brain start moving.

Wilbur isn't too different from the last time Phil had seen him before the brunet ran away. He's got heavier bags under his eyes and more red in his eyes than what Phil is used to seeing, but the distrustful squint is still on his face. His ears are more visible, pointier, but his hands still ball up into fists as if he's ready for a fight—or prepared to run. He's a runner, not a fighter.

Wilbur stands upright and nods once, saying, "We—I didn't mean to wake you."

Phil's attention gets caught on one word, 'we,' and it's all he can think about as he stares at Wilbur.

The boy behind Wilbur is suddenly brought to Phil's mind. He immediately knows that this is the extra coven bond he'd felt grow in when Wilbur was—well, wherever he was. This is Wilbur's fledgling. Worse of all, is that the boy looks nothing like Wilbur did when he was a fledgling.

The boy clings to Wilbur like he's his last lifeline. He isn't scared of Wilbur like Wilbur was of Phil. He looked comfortable. Maybe not entirely because Phil is here, but calm nonetheless. He glances between Phil and Wilbur as if looking for any sign to bolt if need be, and it's clear how much he trusts Wilbur. It's so unlike how Wilbur was with him, and it shocks Phil into speaking.

"Oh, no! No, it's alright! You— I— You're back?" He's nearly speechless, so it's a miracle he can get that barely-formed sentence out.

Wilbur shifts slightly, and his fledgling tugs on his shirt barely. A silent message that Phil doesn't quite understand but wishes he could. Wilbur nods again, brief and to the point. Then he adds, "Can I... Can we, uh, come in?"

Phil startles because he wasn't expecting this at all. It feels like he's dreaming, but Phil nods so frantically he's half concerned his own head will fall off his neck. "Oh! Of course, of course! Uh, come in!" He opens the door, holds it open for Wilbur and the preteen behind him, and then shuts it after them. He flicks on a few lights and guides them to the living room, silently urging them to sit down. Then he says, "Uh, I'll be right back. Just sit tight for a moment, okay?"

Wilbur nods and says nothing. After an awkward second or more of Phil standing nearby, Phil moves away and ignores how his soul aches. He has to wake Techno because if the man wakes up and sees the commotion, it might scare Wilbur and his fledgling off—Techno has a habit of losing his control and temper at times. It's better if Phil takes the brunt of it because he can handle it. He's lived with the older vampire for almost a decade.

Rushing to Techno's room and sneaking through the door, Phil hesitates momentarily before standing beside Techno's crimson-coloured bed. He gently taps the man on the shoulder, and when that doesn't work, Phil says his name and grabs him by the shoulder. He gently shakes him, and in a moment, Techno's crimson eyes snap open. "Hey mate, uh, we have an issue..."

Techno sits up immediately, "Issue?"

Phil grimaces and backtracks, "No, no, not an issue, really... Uh, there's just— Well, Techno, there's no easy way to say this, but... Wilbur's back..."

Techno blinks in surprise and says, "Heh? Wait, really? I have—" He starts to get up, but Phil immediately pushes him back down. Techno stares at him, confused, and Phil is quick to cut him off before he can say anything.

"He has a fledgling."

Techno freezes, and his confusion grows even more, or at least Phil thinks so—it's really dark in Techno's room. Phil nods and sighs, "He, uh— I'm gonna talk to him, and normally I'd ask you to come with, but I don't want to scare him away. He seems, to say the least, very protective over his fledgling. And well, you're intimidating. No offence..."

Phil thinks Techno shrugs as he says, "Eh, okay. That's fair..." Phil laughs softly.

"Once I speak to him, ask him why he's here, and I feel it's okay, I'll call you down. I just wanted to warn you, in case you woke up..." Phil feels somewhat guilty about leaving Techno and not letting him see Wilbur—the only kid who destroyed the man's favourite flowers, gave them to him when he came outside and didn't get yelled at.

Techno rolls his eyes and bumps his head on Phil's shoulder. "Stop being guilty. Go see your fledgling, alright? I'm fine, I can wait." Phil flushes in embarrassment, he'd forgotten they shared a bond, and Techno could hear his thoughts.

Phil sighs, "Okay, okay. I'll call you down when I feel it's a good idea... Alright, mate?"

Techno nods, sits back against the spruce headboard of his bed, and says, "Yeah, yeah, old man. Go on now..."

Phil rolls his eyes, "You're technically older than me, ya know."

Techno huffs, "I'm physically twenty-one, and you're thirty-four. Therefore, I'm younger. Physically, at least..." Phil laughs and moves towards the door. Before he can leave, Techno adds, "Good luck, Phil."

Phil turns to face him and smiles over his shoulder. Then he closes the door and heads back to the living room, mentally preparing himself and closing the bond between him and Techno—so the pink-haired man doesn't have to hear his thoughts. Then, he rounds the corner from the hallway and renters the living room.

Wilbur is sitting straight up with perfect posture on the long couch in Phil and Techno's living room. So is his fledgling, though the blond fidgets more than Wilbur does. Phil smiles as Wilbur's eyes meet his. Wilbur watches Phil the whole way to an empty armchair in front of the two teens. Phil sits and notes the way Wilbur is making eye contact with him.

It feels very wrong.

Wilbur never made much eye contact with him or Techno throughout his time with them, so it's odd for him to make any now. It's even more bizarre that he's maintaining said eye contact. It must be uncomfortable for him; it looks that way, at least. The boy next to him doesn't make eye contact and instead stares intently at the hardwood floor like it's the best thing he's ever seen. Phil feels like a foster parent meeting a new foster kid for the first time—not that he'd know anything about that thought.

Phil chooses to break the silence that has been suffocating the air in the room. "Wilbur! It's been so long, uh, how are you?"

Wilbur finally averts his gaze and says, "Uh, good. I mean, I'm good now..." His eyes shift to the blond next to him, and he seems to relax slightly before he speaks again, "Oh yeah, I should probably introduce you. Phil, this is Tommy—my fledgling. Tommy, this is Phil—my uh— This is Phil..." 

The silence that follows is brief but deafening. Phil moves on quickly, "Well, hello, Tommy! It's nice to meet you, mate!"

Tommy glances at Wilbur before meeting Phil's eyes. His eyes are blue, and at first glance, he looks like he could pass as Phil's biological son with his blond hair and blue eyes. The blond smiles—bright and warm like the sun—and Phil can't help but smile back. His excitement, albeit hidden, is contagious, and Phil can't ignore it.

He'd been so worried a few weeks ago when he felt a soul bond form out of nowhere. Both he nor Techno hadn't gained a new fledgling, and the only other member of their coven was Wilbur—thought their bond was only a tiny, broken one. Phil had been concerned because Wilbur had gotten a fledgling so young. He feared that the boy had given into bloodlust.

Bloodlust for a vampire was very hard to break through. It was when a vampire hadn't had enough blood and took to attacking random people on the streets for it. It took over ninety-one years for Techno to break free of his and that only happened because he met and accidentally turned Phil. So, it was a relief to see Wilbur with his fledgling. Though, maybe it wasn't as much of a relief as he thought it was because taking one look at them told Phil it wasn't a consensual or easy turning.

They looked beyond stressed and slightly vengeful when they'd first arrived. If Phil had to guess, Tommy was young, maybe twelve or thirteen, and consensual turnings only happened if one was eighteen years old or too sick to live to eighteen. However, those weren't really consensual either unless given explicit permission. Tommy doesn't look ill or close to death, nor does he look weak. Though, Phil probably shouldn't jump to conclusions without knowing what really happened.

Maybe he's wrong—he hopes he's wrong.

Wilbur breaks the silence this time, "Uh, I know it's been a while, and I'm sorry for waking you at such an hour. I just— I didn't know where else to go. I couldn't just—" Wilbur takes a shaky breath, and it looks like he's collecting his thoughts before he adds, "I'm sorry, Phil."

Phil blinks in confusion, but before he can ask anything, Wilbur continues, "I shouldn't have run away, though I'm not particularly sorry for that. If I hadn't run away, I would've never met Tommy. I am sorry for how I treated you well I was here, though." Wilbur sighs and fidgets with his hands before adding, "You were just trying to help me, and I was beyond rude. So, I'm sorry for that, and I understand if you want nothing to do with me. However, I just don't know what else to do..."

Phil's gaze softens. "Mate... It's alright, you were struggling, and while that doesn't excuse anything, I understand why you acted that way. I don't hold it against you or 'want nothing to do with you' because of it. I still care about you... What do you need from me, mate? I can help if you allow me to..."

Wilbur's eyes flick back to Phil's, and he can see a glassy fog forming before Wilbur whips his gaze away. Wilbur takes a shaky deep breath and nods slowly to himself. "Can... Would—would you ever take me back as your fledgling? Or at least let us stay here for a while?"

Phil is shocked into silence, and hastily, Wilbur goes to elaborate, "It's just— We have no one else. My parents are dead, Tommy's a foster kid, and all of our old foster parents were abusive. We just need a place to stay, even if just for a day—"

Phil finally finds his voice and jumps to cut off the hasty rant, "Wil, Wilbur, mate! Slow down, did you just...? You'd want me as your sire, even after everything that happened?"

Wilbur stops speaking and glances at him hesitantly, "I— If you still want me, then yes. It might take a while to trust each other again, but... I want to try, at least. You're the closest thing I have to a father figure after mine—" Wilbur cuts himself off and looks away.

Phil feels tears pool up in his eyes, shocked into silence again. Phil feels the bond between them grow a bit stronger and lets a single tear fall down his face before he speaks again, "Wil, of course, I still want you. I've never stopped wanting you... You can stay here as long as you want. You were never trapped here before and will never be in the future. You can come and go as you please, and I will always welcome you back..."

When Wilbur meets his eyes this time, there are tears in his red and brown eyes. He lets a few fall before casting his head into his chest. From beside him, Tommy glances between the two with a smile on his face as he grabs Wilbur's hand, brushing his thumb along it slowly. Wilbur collects himself and wipes his tears. "Thank you, Phil..."

Phil shakes his head, "No need to thank me, Wilbur..." Then, in the silence of waiting for Wilbur to collect himself, Phil reopens his sire-fledgling bond with Techno. In a few minutes, I think it's safe for you to come join us, Phil says through the bond. Then Phil speaks out loud, "If you're up for it, I think Techno would like to see you again, mate. Can he come down here with us?"

Wilbur sighs and looks back at him. "Is he awake?" Phil nods, and Wilbur turns to Tommy. The blond smiles at him, and Wilbur nods back. "Uh, sure... I don't mind." He says as he turns from Tommy to Phil. He looks nervous, but he holds Tommy's hand in his and doesn't say anything more. So, Phil confirms this to Techno.

A few minutes later, Techno's footsteps can be heard coming down the hallway, and Wilbur grabs at Tommy's hand harder. Upon seeing Techno, in all of his pink-haired glory, Wilbur and Tommy sit up a bit straighter. Knowing that the two were in foster care makes this behaviour more understandable and boils Phil's blood momentarily.

Techno takes one look at Wilbur and smirks, "Hey, hyacinths." Wilbur and Phil both blink in surprise. That is a nickname Techno hadn't used since Wilbur left, and it makes Phil smile fondly. Tommy looks confused behind Wilbur as he hides behind the brunet ever so slightly. "Who blondie here?"

And just like that, Wilbur stiffens again. "This is Tommy, my fledgling." He sounds proud when he says it, and Tommy preens under the word, leaning closer to Wilbur and smiling softly.

Techno glances at Tommy, and the blond tenses similarly to Wilbur. Phil lightly chastises Techno through their bond, telling him to stop scaring the traumatized preteen, and Techno relents. He leans casually, gives a small smile, and then adds, "Hullo."

Tommy relaxes and squints his eyes at the older vampire, "Your hair is a lighter pink than I thought it'd be. It's not a shitty hot pink. Wilbur, you gotta be more specific next time cause this is just disappointing!"

And that makes Phil burst out a laugh. The suddenness, brash way Tommy speaks even makes Techno quirk a small smile, and he snorts softly. Wilbur turns around and flicks Tommy on the forehead as he exclaims, "Shut up, gremlin child! Be kind!"

Tommy glares and chomps his teeth together as if trying to bite Wilbur's finger, winces slightly and loudly proclaims, "I'm not a child!!" Wilbur simply rolls his eyes and turns back to Phil and Techno.

"I'm sorry about him. He tends to say things without thinking of the consequences." Wilbur says with a playful, albeit slightly nervous, smile.

"Fuck you, Wilbur. Wilbitch, more like!!" Tommy yells as he grabs the brunet's forearm and shakes it around. Wilbur shakes his arm free after a moment and ignores the boy as Techno smiles down at them.

"I like this kid. He's got spunk, Phil." Techno says, an amused lilt to his tone that makes everyone calmer. Wilbur grabs Tommy's hand again, and his grip is softer. He seems less anxious, from a visual standpoint, at least.

"He does..." Phil agrees as he watches on fondly.

After a few fond seconds, Techno shifts awkwardly from where he stands and the mood shifts with him. He looks at Wilbur and asks, "So, uh, what's going on? You're back?"

Some tension seeps back into Wilbur, but he doesn't tense up again as he speaks, "Yeah, I guess so..." Techno doesn't push, knowing Phil'll fill in the details after he brings the guests to the spare bedroom. Phil makes sure to glance knowingly at the pink-haired male before he stands up.

"Hey, it's pretty late. Why don't I show you the guest room, and we can all have a good long talk in the morning, yeah?" Wilbur nods, and Techno voices his agreement. Wilbur and Tommy stand up, and Phil gestures to the hallway, where all the rooms are, and adds as he guides the two forward, "Yup, just down this way here."

As soon as the guest bedroom's door shuts, Wilbur can finally breathe again. It feels as if all of his air had been taken away the second the front door opened to now. There's a lock on the door; instinctively, Wilbur flicks it locked. He feels much better with a locked door separating him, Tommy and Phil. He's sure Phil wouldn't hurt them, but deep down, he's always been scared of adults and people with authority.

Tommy picks up on it immediately, and Wilbur can't tell if it's because of their sire-fledgling bond or if they are just close enough to understand each other without a soul bond. Tommy grabs Wilbur's hand and squeezes, and Wilbur squeezes right back when Tommy asks, "Wil?"

Wilbur turns to face him. Despite the deep-seated fear of authority figures clawing at his throat, he smiles and says, "I'm alright, Toms. It's just a lot right now, and 'm a bit overwhelmed..."

Tommy nods as if he feels the same, and Wilbur knows he probably does. Tommy had been in foster care longer than Wilbur had, and he's had more experience with terrible authority figures. However, they both had to learn the rules with adults. They'll know those rules forever. No matter how hard they try to forget them, they'll always be there as an afterthought.

Tommy throws himself into Wilbur, wrapping his arms around the brunet's middle. Tommy ignores how he can't hear the other's heartbeat and how malnourished Wilbur feels. As Wilbur pulls Tommy close, he, too, ignores the lack of heartbeat from Tommy and his scrawny stature. Instead, Wilbur focuses on rubbing a hand up and down Tommy's spine.

The blond purrs quietly, and Wilbur copies the sound, their chest rumbling against each other. Tommy smiles into Wilbur's chest in the near silence of the room and quietly says, "You're okay, Wil. We're okay..."

Wilbur nods slowly and pulls away from the hug reluctantly. Tommy smiles at him when they pull away, and Wilbur can't help but smile back. His smile turns teasing as he says, "C'mon, gremlin. It's far past your bedtime."

Tommy glares at him and pouts, "No, you bitch." Wilbur rolls his eyes and bends at the knees.

Before Tommy can protest, Wilbur is picking him up swiftly and holding him bridal style. The blond gasps and squirms in his hold but eventually gives up when Wilbur purrs to calm him down. Walking across the room to the bed, Wilbur promptly drops Tommy on the soft mattress and the blond gasps again in shock.

Though, upon noticing the softness of the guest bed, Tommy relaxes. The two didn't bring anything in, which was probably a stupid idea, but neither seemed to care currently. Sure, this meant they'd be sleeping in their jeans tonight, but they've had far worse sleeping arrangements. Tommy huffs as Wilbur climbs onto the bed a second after him. "Bitchbur." Tommy whisper-yells, and Wilbur rolls his eyes.

"Yeah, yeah, you love me. Now, scoot." Wilbur pushes Tommy over to one side of the bed and tucks the two of them in. The blond grumbles but eventually inches closer to Wilbur. When Tommy fully cuddles into his side, Wilbur relaxes.

He takes this time to admire the room. He'd been here before, and not much has changed since then. The walls are white, and the hardwood floor is dark. There is a window by the bed which allows the soft moonlight in. The mattress has white sheets and soft baby blue blankets and pillowcases. The room is primarily empty beside the nightstand by the bed, the dresser against a wall near the door, a small closet in the wall opposite the bed and a fluffy white rug in the middle right of the room.

Everything in the guest room matches the rest of the house, floors of dark wood, furniture of a lighter yet still deep-coloured wood, and walls of white with splashes of colour everywhere. The view from the window was of the backyard, and Wilbur vividly remembers climbing up and over the dark wooden fence when he'd run away. The room should make him upset; he'd felt trapped here for weeks after his turning.

However, he's not trapped. Phil said he was never trapped, and Wilbur feels it's true now for some reason. Now that he's here of his own will, he feels safe. He has decided to come back to be in this room right now. He's chosen Phil, and Phil has chosen him as if nothing has happened between them. It feels like a cycle of hurt is finally being broken, and it feels like he's home for the first time since his turning.

As Tommy snuggles into his side and falls asleep, he knows this is home. He is safe in a house with Tommy and the man he'd run from four years ago. Tommy purrs, and it rumbles his side, and everything feels too perfect to be true. He's mildly expecting to wake up any moment now because it feels like he's dreaming, but as sleep calls to him, he lets it drag him down.

He shifts around, getting comfortable. Then he closes his eyes, knowing he's in a safe, warm bed with his coven surrounding him. The last thing he thinks before he falls asleep is that this is all too good to be true.

Chapter Text

Tommy has never woken up peacefully in his life.

Sure, there were days when he woke up and didn't panic or get yelled at, but he never got to wake up peacefully. He didn't get to slowly open his eyes and lazily take in the sun coming through the windows and rub at his eyes with a lackadaisical attitude. No, he never got that.

Until he ran away with Wilbur.

Every day that he's been sleeping in the back of a van with his brother—sire a voice in the back of his head adds—has been a great experience. He is never yelled at or rushed to get ready because they are late. He didn't get woken up by the sound of breaking glass or slamming doors. He didn't get smacked awake and screamed at—although when Wilbur was around, he hardly got hurt anyways. Wilbur always took the brunt of the physical abuse the two found themselves in an abusive home.

So, it is no surprise when he wakes up peacefully once again.

Not only is he in his brother's safe arms, but he is also home. He wants to think of this place as home, at least. He's not sure if he can call it that yet, though. The house's peaceful nature makes it easier to imagine this as home because he always liked the peaceful households he was sent to. As long as it stayed this peaceful, maybe this could work out.

Tommy tries to wriggle out of Wilbur's arms, but the man is even more clingy in his sleep. So he doesn't escape. It's not like he minds, though. He likes being held by Wilbur. He'll never tell him that, but it's still nice to be held so safely in someone's arms. So, he gives up after a few seconds of trying and chooses to look out the window.

The view from the guest bedroom is a nice one of the Craft's beautiful garden. Tommy can't help but admire it. He's not very good at it, but he's always loved gardening. Seeing something thrive under his shaky, scarred hands is rewarding, and it seems that someone here thinks so too. Technoblade, probably, but Tommy wasn't sure about that.

Technoblade is tall, maybe only an inch or so above Wilbur, and has light pink hair—of all things. His eyes are completely red and dark too, which means he is an older vampire. If Tommy had to guess, from what Wilbur has told him about vampires on their trip here, Techno is probably at least a century old. Vampire's eyes turn scarlet after a decade and get darker with age. Tommy isn't sure that gardening fits Technoblade and his intimidating persona.

Suddenly, Tommy is snapped out of his thoughts as Wilbur stirs and wakes up. Wilbur looks around, maybe a bit panicked, until he sees Tommy. Or at least, Tommy thinks he stops upon seeing him. It's hard to tell when he is pressed to the man's chest as he is. Wilbur confirms Tommy's suspicions by saying, "Good morning, Tommy."

Tommy pulls away, finally free of Wilbur's clingy grasp, and makes eye contact with the brunet. "Morning, dickhead. You trapped me in your sleep, and I hate you for it," he jokes as he fake glares at Wilbur.

Wilbur smiles and playfully rolls his eyes, "Oh, well, I'm so sorry for showing affection in my sleep. It'll never happen again!" They both know it will, but Tommy smiles triumphantly despite Wilbur's sarcastic response.

"Good, bitch, now get up. I want to look around... Please?" He asks while putting on his best puppy dog eyes, knowing Wilbur can't say no to them.

He wonders if the puppy dog eyes would persuade Wilbur to complete their sire-fledgling bond...

Wilbur sighs, "Fine, but we have to be quiet, okay? And it would be best if you were fed before we go" The blond jumps up with glee and only somewhat falters at the last part. He nods, and Wilbur can only hope by some sheer luck they don't get caught snooping around the Craft's house at 8:37 in the morning.

Getting up in the morning is not Technoblade's thing. He barely wakes up before noon unless it is because of a noise in the house. He has a nighttime job, so he doesn't have to get up like Phil does every other day. Yesterday and today are his days off, and Techno likes to sleep in more because he doesn't get much of that with his graveyard shifts.

Not that he needs it, really. He is a vampire; he can't die from lack of sleep. Though, he's always liked sleeping until noon and staying up 'til 3 am, even before he was a vampire. So, sue him for not having a good sleep schedule when he didn't even need one anymore. It isn't particularly healthy, but he is working on being healthy in other ways. He'll get there someday, if not for himself than for Phil's overly empathetic heart. 

So, rightfully, he's confused when he wakes up at 8:40 am.

Sitting up in his crimson-coloured bed, he looks around in confusion. He decides to lie down and try to sleep again, but he hears a clatter from the kitchen before he can. He leans in, straining his pointy ears to listen to what's happening. Sometimes Phil makes breakfast, so he thinks it might be him. Either way, he's far too alert to fall back asleep now.

Dammit.

He gets up, pulls the covers back, and places his feet on the cold hardwood floor. He grimaces at the temperature change but stands up. After a quick stretch, he shakes himself off and walks to his door. He opens it, closing it behind him as he sleepily walks through the hallway to the open floor-plan kitchen and living room. Though, he stops—halfway through scratching his stomach—at the sight greeting him in the next room.

Wilbur and his fledgling—Tommy, Techno reminds himself—are frozen, staring straight at him in the kitchen. They are slightly hunched over as if they've been sneaking around, and there's a pan face down on the white tiled floor in the kitchen. Wilbur straightens up as if he's been caught with his hand in the cookie jar, and his fledgling follows suit. Wilbur looked horrified. Tommy looks embarrassed and only slightly worried until he meets Wilbur's panicked eyes. Then, real worry marks his face as he glances back at Techno hesitantly.

Techno blinks and shrugs. "Morning." He adds as he makes his way over to the kitchen. Wilbur relaxes slightly and nods at him.

"Uh, m-morning? Sorry, we didn't mean to wake you..." Wilbur says as he hastily holds his hands up, but Techno ignores him as he walks past the two. He opens the fridge, pulling out a milk carton with a shrug. He puts the carton down on a counter and grabs a cereal made specifically for vampires by a friend of his,—a fellow pink-haired vampire, at that—a bowl and a spoon from the cabinet. 

He remembers that Wilbur is still standing there, waiting for an answer and says, "It's fine, hyacinths—you don't mind me calling you that, right?" Wilbur falters a bit when Techno turns to meet his eyes but nods nonetheless, so Techno continues, "Oh, it's fine. You didn't even wake me. I woke up and heard a noise, thought it was Phil, so I came out here. Really, you're fine."

Wilbur nods slowly as Techno exits the kitchen area and sits at the island counter with two bar stools separating the kitchen from the living room. Since the space is open, Wilbur and Tommy can see to the house's entrance and the living room behind Technoblade. Awkwardly, they walk up to the opposite side of the island and rest their arms on top of it as they glance everywhere but at Techno.

It gets a bit weird, eating cereal—with blood in it—while two people stand around trying not to watch you eat but standing there awkwardly nonetheless. Not even a few bites in, Techno stops and suggests, "You can eat too if you want. I can show ya what we have..."

Wilbur flushes in embarrassment, "Oh, right... Uh, sure...? If you wouldn't mind, that is..."

Techno remembers when Wilbur was here before he ran away. He was similar to how he's acting now, but the difference is that he's not backing down like he used to. Whether that is because of the fledgling beside him or from the awful foster care he's obviously been put through,—Phil confirmed it, though Techno knows a foster kid when he sees one—Techno isn't sure.

Techno smiles, says, "Alright," and gets up. He walks around the island to the opposite side where Wilbur and Tommy are and starts showing them where food is. Almost all of it has been modified to suit a vampire's diet, and he makes sure to tell them before he sits back down on the bar stool at the island again.

"Oh, all the stuff in the fridge is also made for vampires. This town has a ton of us, so we have more accommodations or something like that, I guess." Techno adds with a shrug.

Wilbur nods and says, "Thank you." Tommy copies Wilbur a moment after, and Techno resists the urge to tell them to stop being so formal. Before he can say anything, however, Wilbur adds, "Phil doesn't mind us stealing his food, right?" Awkwardly, Techno nods. 

Techno understands why the brunet is asking; he was also a foster kid. However, it feels so wrong now that he's grown up and knows better, especially when Wilbur was thinking about Phil in the context of foster parent to be wary around. "It's not stealing if I allow you to have some. He won't mind. Phil would probably be more upset with me if I didn't feed you while I was up, not the other way around. So, yeah. Help yourselves."

Wilbur thinks for a moment as if questioning if Techno is testing him. Then he nods with a resolute expression. Then he creeps anxiously around the kitchen, whispering to Tommy as they get food. Tommy doesn't grab anything, but Wilbur does. However, what Wilbur does grab isn't enough for a proper meal. It's moreso a snack than a meal, but Techno bites his tongue. He doesn't want to force Wilbur to grab more if he isn't comfortable; however, he doesn't want Wilbur to starve, either.

He ignores it for now.

Later he might say something, but not now when Wilbur is like a grenade set to go off with one tug of the clip.

Instead, Techno watches the two walk to a table on the right side of him and sit down. It's the dining table, and it seems like something you'd find in a mansion with its magnitude—Phil and Techno's dining table used to be small enough for just the two of them. However, over the years, Phil and Techno made many friends and often invited them over a lot. Their smaller table just didn't cut it anymore, so they had to get a larger one.

Tommy is a fledgling, so it makes sense why he does grab anything. He can't have human blood, and most foods made for vampires have donated human blood incorporated into the ingredients. Instead, he should get blood from a vampire, specifically his sire, but any vampire also worked. Techno hopes that the brunet fed the blond before snooping around the house. Though, with how close they are, Techno doesn't doubt that Wilbur fed Tommy before himself.

Wilbur and Techno eat in silence, with Tommy looking around awkwardly until they hear the door to Phil's room opening and closing, then the telltale sound of footsteps on the wooden floorboards. Wilbur slows down when he hears Phil, but Techno relaxes. Tension he didn't know he was holding onto slips away at the sound of his fledgling—who is really more of a father to him than a fledgling.

Phil lazily stumbles over to Techno and rests his arms on the island's countertop. He rubs his eyes with the palms of his hands and says, "Morning Techno..."

Techno smiles at him, "Morning."

Phil sleepily walks into the kitchen and grabs himself something to eat—two slices of toast with a jam for vampires that Techno always joked was just pure blood in a can; it was strawberry jam. It made sense. He also grabs an orange—and turns around. That's when he finally notices Wilbur and Tommy.

The blond preteen is staring at his fidgeting fingers while Wilbur is nervously picking at his toast—covered in the same jam Phil's is. They pause at Phil's direct turn and freeze under his slightly surprised gaze. Phil relaxes a second later and addresses them, "Oh, morning! Sorry I didn't see ya there. I was expecting you'd sleep 'til 'noon since you drove here all night, but it's a pleasure to see you."

Wilbur nods, "Morning, and uh, it's fine..."

The air is somewhat tense as Phil awkwardly shifts on his feet and then joins Techno at the island, sitting on the only empty stool after setting his food down. It is silent again as they eat, and Techno can't help but fidget at the strange tension in the air. The air feels suffocating, and Techno almost wishes he wasn't here. He keeps eating, regardless.

It's later now, and Tommy sits outside in the yard with Wilbur and Phil.

Phil had just given them a tour of the house, and Tommy had wanted to be outside for their talk. That was, of course, decided after he gasped and fawned over all the plants and flowers in the spacious fenced-off yard. So, now, they were sitting at another large table on the patio as Tommy glanced around in awe, occasionally catching the nervous gaze of Wilbur on his right.

Tommy is sat at the end of the table, having an easy way out if need be, while Wilbur sits beside him. Phil sits in front of Wilbur, thus being a seat in as well. If he sat on the edge like Tommy was, the blond knows that Wilbur would be more guarded than he currently is. He always wants Tommy to have an exit in every situation over himself, and Tommy hates that Wilbur prioritizes his life over his own.

Phil seems to get it, though, because he is a seat in as well. Thus proving, to Wilbur at least, that he won't be able to run after them if one chooses to run as efficiently. Though, maybe it wasn't as strategic as Tommy thinks. Maybe Phil doesn't even realize what he's done, or maybe he has yet to realize it. Either way, Tommy knows it calms Wilbur's anxiety—of which he can hear and feel because of their bond.

Eventually, Phil shifts in his seat and gains Tommy's full attention again. Then he speaks, "So, Wilbur... Let's start with an easy question, okay? What happened after you ran away?"

Wilbur shakily sighs from beside him, and under the table, Tommy grabs his pinkie finger with his own. The brunet doesn't acknowledge the gesture, but Tommy knows he appreciates it by the confidence it gives Wilbur to speak. "A lot happened, honestly... After I ran, I kept running and going from town to town. Eventually, I was found in an alleyway and put into foster care."

Wilbur gestures to Tommy with his free hand and continues, "This is where I met Tommy. We hated each other at first, but because of a personal event, we became closer than ever. In every home we went to that separated us, we fought against until they sent us back to the care centre. Most of our foster parents sucked, and I got sick of them mistreating us. So we left, and now we're here..."

That's a basic outline of what happened, and even Phil can see that, but he doesn't press the topic more. Instead, he moves on and asks, "Alright... How'd Tommy get turned?" Wilbur stiffens, and Phil adds, "You don't have to tell me the details. I just want to know if you turned him or not..."

Wilbur vehemently shakes his head, "No, it wasn't me. I wouldn't have; I haven't even bitten anyone but myself. He's like my little brother. I wouldn't turn him at such a young age either... It was the same man who turned me, I think. I can't really remember his face, but my old sire had a mask, and so did the vampire who turned Tommy..."

Phil blinks, "Oh, okay. I just wanted to make sure you didn't experience bloodlust. Do you know what that is? I can't remember if I told you about that or not..." He says with a slight laugh.

Wilbur nods, "Yeah, I think so."

Phil smiles, "Okay, good. Next question is, do you really want to stay here and rekindle our bond?"

Wilbur blinks at the question before he nods slowly, "Well, we have nowhere else to go, and you're the closest thing I have to family—besides Tommy. I feel bad for how I treated you as well because you were trying to help me and I left you. I want to make up for that at least..."

Phil's expression softens, and he smiles a bit wider than he already was, "Wil... You don't have to make up for anything. I understand why you acted like that."

Wilbur shrugs, "I want to. Plus, nothing excuses what I did. I want to make up for what I did in whatever way you deem fit, I guess. Please let me?"

Phil looks away for a moment, but when he looks back, he nods, "Alright... Okay, okay."

Tommy shifts and fidgets anxiously in his seat. He wants to get up and run around. He's never been known to sit down for too long, especially during long conversations—no matter how important the discussion is. He lets go of Wilbur's pinkie finger and subconsciously picks at the skin around his fingernails.

Wilbur notices his fidgeting and asks, "Uh, got any other questions or topics you wanted to discuss?"

Phil thinks for a moment before lights up, "Oh yes, are you two okay with sleeping in the same bed for a while like last night? It might take a while to get another bed in there if you're really gonna stay here."

Wilbur smiles and absent-mindedly shares relief-happy-content down the bond, and Tommy has to force his smile down. Wilbur nods quickly, and Tommy represses the urge to roll his eyes. Stupid, stinky brother.

"Yeah, that's fine! We slept in the same bed in the van for the whole trip. It's no big deal, no rush!" Wilbur says with a slight smile.

Tommy pipes up now, wanting to get up already, "Speaking about the van, Wil, we still have all our stuff in there..."

"Oh, would you like to bring it in? I can help if you'd like! Or I could get Techno to help!" Phil asks, and Wilbur shakes his head.

"No, it's alright! We can grab our stuff. We didn't bring that much, so it's no trouble!" Wilbur moves his chair backwards, asking in a subtle way to be excused. Phil gesture to the door behind them that leads into the living room and stands up.

"Alright, but if you need anything, don't hesitate to ask Techno or me! We'll be happy to help!" Wilbur nods and stands up. Tommy copies him happily, and they're back at the van before he knows it.

Wilbur opens the doors to the van, and Tommy climbs in to grab his items first. He packs as much as he can into his bag, including the box of bandaids he'd used for Wilbur not so long ago. Then, he hops out of the car and waits for Wilbur. While he's waiting, he suddenly starts to feel anxious. He can feel eyes on him as if someone is staring into his soul. However, when he looks around, he can't see anyone but Wilbur—and Wilbur is busying himself with grabbing his own stuff from the back of the van.

Wilbur turns around, and they make eye contact. "You okay?" Wilbur asks upon seeing Tommy's nervous expression.

Tommy nods but doesn't say anything more. He doesn't want to worry Wilbur. If Wilbur thought there was something to worry about, he'd close himself—and subsequently Tommy—off in an instant. "Yeah, just don't like being in the sun now. It, uh, it won't burn me, right?"

It's a good enough distraction, and he is genuinely interested in knowing. Wilbur buys his lie and nods, "Yeah, it won't burn you immediately, as the movies say. We're more susceptible to sunburns, but you can be outside without the fear of suddenly bursting into flames. Don't worry!"

Tommy nods, trying to shake the paranoia of someone watching him off. Nothing is wrong. Someone is probably just staring out their window. Nothing will happen to him. As long as Wilbur's around, he'll be fine. Wilbur said so himself, and Tommy believed almost everything his older brother said—aside from the obvious stupid shit he says, of course.

Wilbur climbs out of the van, slams the doors behind him, bags in hand, and says, "Okay, let's go!"

Tommy is grateful to get out of the sun and away from the prying eyes staring at him from nowhere.

Once back inside, Tommy relaxes. He and Wilbur drop their stuff off in their new room—should he call it that? Is this place home now?

They leave the room and cautiously sit on a long green couch in the living room. In front of them are two armchairs, both a lighter shade of green than the couch, a light-coloured wooden table in between the armchairs and a television mounted on the wall.

Tommy cuddles into Wilbur's side a bit as Wilbur leans back against the couch. Wilbur doesn't close his eyes, but he is the most relaxed he's ever been since they arrived. Tommy thinks that maybe that talk with Phil helped him relax. Tommy relaxes, too, closing his eyes and resting his head on Wilbur's shoulder.

They hear the backdoor open and the sound of footsteps approaching. They only slightly tense up as they turn their heads to see Technoblade behind them. He has a bit of dirt on his cheek, and although he doesn't quite smile at Tommy and Wilbur, his lips quirk up a bit. Then he tilts his head to the television and says, "You guys can watch something if you'd like. I can show ya how it works."

Wilbur shrugs, thus moving Tommy off of his shoulder, and looks at the blond. "I'm alright. Tommy?"

Tommy glances between the two and suddenly feels like he can't speak, so he nods ever so slightly. Techno walks to the end table directly behind Tommy and pulls a remote from it. He turns the television on and shows Tommy how to find movies, Netflix and much more. Then he hands the remote to Tommy and lets him choose what he wants.

Tommy hasn't seen many movies in his years of foster care, so a majority of the shows and movies are unfamiliar to him. Most foster families didn't let him have access to electronics, and when they did, he was always too scared to play anything for fear of getting yelled at. So, he picks a random movie called Up and sits back against the couch.

"Hey, hyacinths... Wanna catch up real quick? It's been a while since we've talked..." Techno asks softly, or well as softly as his tone can sound.

Wilbur nods slowly and turns to Tommy, whispering, "You'll be alright here, yeah?"

Tommy hesitates but nods just as slowly, and Wilbur stands up. "Uh, sure. Where to, man?" Wilbur asks as he shifts on his feet. Then Techno gestures for Wilbur to follow, and they walk off to Techno's bedroom, leaving Tommy alone on the couch.

Tommy tries to watch Up in peace, but the backdoor opens again, and Phil steps into the living room. He smiles at Tommy and walks over to him, shutting the door softly behind him. Tommy nervously picks at his fingers. He's never liked older people. A good majority of foster parents have taught him to fear authority figures, just like Wilbur does.

Phil smiles as he stares up at the television screen and says, "Up, huh? It's good. Have you seen it before?"

Tommy shakes his head, "Nope... I haven't seen too many movies. Uh, it's okay that I'm watching something on your TV, right? You—You don't mind, yeah?"

Phil nods at him, giving him a look of pity for a brief second. It's better than anger, but it still isn't great. "Yeah, of course! If you're gonna stay here, you're free to use almost anything. Maybe not mine and Techno's computers unless given permission, but other than that, you're good!"

Tommy nods, and Phil walks over to one of the armchairs. "You mind if I move this so I can watch with you?"

Tommy knows what he's doing. He's seen it before with good foster parents. He's trying to put them on level ground because having a shared event makes people more likely to bond better. Tommy always liked when foster parents did this in the first few days because it showed him they were less likely to hurt him. Sure, it sometimes came with looks of pity and sadness, but that was far better than anger and disgust. Tommy would take pity over rage any day.

He nods, and Phil smiles before pulling the green armchair to the side of the end table on the other side of the couch to Tommy, spinning it around. Then they are watching the movie together. Tommy is slightly distracted by Phil's presence, but as the movie plays, he starts to relax. Occasionally, Tommy asks a hesitant question about something in the movie, and Phil always answers.

Not even halfway through the movie, Phil asks, "So, how many movies have you seen? If you had to guess."

Tommy hums in thought, tilting his head before answering, "Uh, maybe two or three? I remember one about Halloween, and the other two were about Christmas. I haven't seen anything else..."

Phil turns to him, "Really? I'm surprised. Usually, kids your age have seen, like, millions of movies..."

Tommy knows Phil isn't saying it to make him feel bad, but that doesn't change the fact that he does. He knows he was cheated out of a childhood, and even though he's only eleven, he acts more like a fifteen or sixteen-year-old. He should act like an eleven-year-old, and he should have seen more movies and lived through a normal childhood. He nods, "Yup, that's what ten years of foster care does to ya..." He says it with a laugh.

Phil doesn't laugh with him.

Tommy doesn't have to look at Phil to know why he doesn't laugh. He's seen the look Phil probably gives him before, and he's tired of it. He'll provide Phil with a pass, but only because Wilbur cares about the blond vampire. It still doesn't feel good, but he's endured worse.

"Ten years? Wait, how old are you?" Phil asks.

"I'm eleven..." Tommy hesitantly says, and even though Phil doesn't gasp, he knows the man is at least slightly shocked. Tommy's always looked older than he was, and he knows that. He doesn't look that much older than eleven, but his height has always made him appear older.

"Oh..." Phil says softly, and Tommy ignores how badly he wants to sink into the couch. This is Wilbur's sire. Tommy doesn't want to make the man hate him, but he also wants to scream at the pity Phil gives him. He sighs deeply instead and stares ahead at the movie, trying to avoid the current topic.

Luckily, Phil understands and doesn't push Tommy to talk more than he's comfortable. Tommy likes that. Maybe this Phil guy isn't so bad. He doesn't force Tommy to tell him about his trauma, nor does he tell him there's something wrong with him. He turns back to the television like Tommy and continues watching the movie as if nothing happened.

Soon enough, Wilbur and Techno walk out of the former's room and join Tommy and Phil in the living room. Techno moves the other armchair to match Phil's, and Wilbur sits beside him on the couch. Tommy cuddles into Wilbur's side and smiles as they watch the movie, eventually switching to watching another one when Up is finished.

As Tommy relaxes against Wilbur on the couch in a house he's only been in for less than twenty-four hours, he thinks that maybe this could work out where his old homes didn't. The thought warms his heart and has him closing his eyes in bliss. He doesn't even care that he hardly knows Techno and Phil because he is safe with Wilbur and knows Wilbur will wake him when he needs to.

He falls asleep, believing this place could be his and Wilbur's forever home.

Chapter Text

It's been a week, and Wilbur thinks he and Tommy are adjusting well.

Sure, maybe he's been a bit closed off, but it's only to protect himself. Tommy seems to have bonded quite well with their coven members. He even lets himself fall asleep in the living room with Phil and Technoblade without Wilbur's presence, trusting that one of them will carry him to bed. All things considered, the blond is surprisingly trusting.

Wilbur is getting better too. Not nearly as fast as Tommy, but faster than he did when he was first trapped here—no, not trapped. He has to remind himself that he was and will never be stuck as he felt four years ago. Phil said he could leave if he wanted to even back then, and clearly, he was right because Wilbur did go.

Wilbur is trying to get better. This is why he starts asking about Phil's friends since he and Techno apparently have enough to need a bigger dining table to accommodate. Phil answers his questions and tells him as much as Wilbur needs to know. From the descriptions Phil gives, his friends seem nice, and most live relatively close by, with two or three living in the house across from them.

It'd be nice to meet them, or at least it might help Wilbur feel more secure. 

Wilbur looks up, eying Phil from across the room with determination. Wilbur is in the living room in one of the light green armchairs while Phil is making food for Wilbur, Techno and himself—he's not allowed to feed Tommy because that's Wilbur's job as a sire and a good brother. The brunet glances away. Tommy is his fledgling. He has to have blood from a vampire. It only makes sense why Wilbur would be hesitant to let anyone but himself feed Tommy. Right?

Wilbur isn't sure. Phil knows what fledglings need. He's had one, after all. So why is Wilbur so protective of his fledgling? It's not like Phil can't take care of a baby vampire. He hasn't shown signs of wanting to hurt Tommy or Wilbur, for that matter. Why can't he trust that Phil has good intentions? Isn't that why he came here?

"Wilbur?" Phil's voice suddenly snaps Wilbur out of his thoughts. He notices Phil staring at him and realizes he is lost in thought while glaring at Phil. He blinks and looks away.

"Sorry, lost in thought..." He mutters, hoping Phil can hear him from the kitchen.

He probably wouldn't have heard if Phil weren't a vampire because of how quietly Wilbur speaks. However, Phil smiles kindly. "Yeah?" Phil prompts, and Wilbur sighs.

There's no harm in asking. It's now or never.

"Just, uh, about your friends..." Wilbur concludes after a minute of thought.

Phil nods as he glances between the food he's making and a recipe on the counter beside him—it's a recipe for vampire-specific cupcakes he got from the people Wilbur is interested in meeting actually. "What about 'em? Got another question?"

Wilbur nods, even though Phil isn't looking at him anymore. "Yeah. Do you think I could meet them?"

Phil freezes momentarily as he pours the cupcake batter he was mixing a second ago into a small silicon cupcake tray. He sets the tray down and glances at Wilbur with surprise as if he wasn't expecting Wilbur would ask that. He recovers quickly, nods with a delighted grin, and then adds, "Of course! You can meet them anytime. They'd love to meet you! Tommy, too if that's okay. I could set up a date to go over, or they could come here if that makes you more comfortable?"

Wilbur appreciates how many options Phil gives. He is considerate of Wilbur and his hesitancy around him and Techno, even if it makes Wilbur feel a little guilty. He always asks before doing something, making Wilbur more comfortable and warming his undead heart bit by bit.

"Uh, we can go over there. I don't mind... Anytime is fine too. Maybe give me a heads up before we go?" Wilbur asks, which he's learning to do more often. It's hard, but Phil never yells or tells him he's asking a stupid question. He tests Phil's limits more and more every day, asking dumber and dumber questions to see when Phil will break.

However, Phil hasn't broken yet. He doesn't snap at him, even if he is angry with Wilbur or Tommy. Instead, he walks outside or takes a deep breath and collects himself. He doesn't raise his fists in anger against Tommy or Wilbur. Wilbur is learning how much better Phil is than other parental figures and that the "rules" he was taught don't apply to him, just as they have never applied to Tommy.

Wilbur is getting better.

"Of course! I'll let you know when I get a date and time! I'm glad you asked, and I know my friends will be happy to meet you and Tommy! Plus, it'll be good for Tommy! My friend across the street, Schlatt, has two fledglings and my friend Hannah has two too!"

Wilbur cocks his head curiously. "What does that mean?"

Phil smiles and nods as he puts the tray of cupcakes in the oven. He stands up and makes his way to the island, laying his arms on top of it and making eye contact with Wilbur for a brief moment. "Fledglings grow better when they have other fledglings around. It ensures coven relationships, stronger bonds with allied covens and lessened pain during the turning process!"

Wilbur nods, "Oh, I didn't know that. Well, to be fair, I don't know much about vampires despite being one myself..."

Phil hums in thought before excusing himself to Techno's room. He returns with a book in hand and sets it carefully in his lap when he walks over to Wilbur. "It's not much, but we can always go to the library later. This might help you understand more about vampires if you want to read it. Oh, and don't worry about returning it. Techno said you could have it!"

Wilbur nods as he looks over the book. It has a crimson, hardback cover and slightly weathered pages. It looks old, and the title reads An Basic Guide to Vampirism. It seems like a good start if Wilbur wants to learn more about his species. He tugs it closer and smiles up at Phil. "Thank you, and tell Techno thanks for me too!"

Phil smiles back before he sets a timer on his phone and collapses into the long green couch. He closes his eyes, and Wilbur decides now is a good enough time to start reading the book he's just been given. So, he carefully, because he doesn't want to ruin it, opens the book and begins reading.

Three days later, Phil sends Wilbur a message with a date and time at which he and Tommy will meet a few of Phil's closest friends.

Wilbur, messages back—on a phone Phil had just gotten him a few days ago despite his and Tommy's protests; Tommy got one too—and saves the date. He counts the days and mentally prepares himself and Tommy. Today is the day, and in a few minutes, they—him, Tommy, Phil and Techno—will walk across the street and meet Phil's best friends.

All Wilbur knows is their names, brief descriptions and minimal information about their backstories. They are vampires, all in a coven allied to Phil's—called The Sleepy Boy Coven, Wilbur learns—and who go by The Captain's Crew Coven. Wilbur likes the alliteration. Covens have leaders, and a woman named Puffy is the co-leader of the Captain's Crew Coven, along with her brother Schlatt. They're close in age, but she was turned first and is, therefore, the coven's main leader.

Puffy has two sired, which have grown out of the fledgling age, whereas Schlatt has two fledglings that are only a year or so older than Tommy. One of Puffy's sired also has a sired that isn't much older than them. Wilbur is surprised by the size of their coven. Wilbur coven only has four, well, somewhat—Wilbur still hasn't accepted his role in the Sleepy Boy Coven yet, but he's getting there.

Deep in thought, Wilbur hardly registers Tommy tapping his shoulder impatiently, and he blinks. Tommy playfully glares at him and says, "Finally! C'mon, Wil! It's time to go!!"

Wilbur nods and stands up from his seat on his and Tommy's temporary bed in the guest room. "Right, sorry. Let's go!"

Tommy grabs his hand and smiles at him, "You alright, Wil?"

Wilbur's expression softens, and he smiles a warm, genuine smile, "Yes, just lost in thought. C'mon, Toms!"

Tommy nods with a determined expression and turns around, dragging Wilbur to the house's front entrance, where Phil and Techno are waiting for them. Phil smiles as the two settle in front of them, holding hands and smiling at them. "Ready?"

"Ready!" They say in unison.

Phil nods and opens the door, "Let's go then!"

Tommy dances nervously on his feet as Phil knocks on a dark cyan-coloured door.

This is the house just across the street from Phil's, but it looks completely different. Unlike Phil's, it's dark brown with black and blue accents. It's also skinnier than Phil's. It's nice, despite its differences, but Tommy thinks Phil's home is better.

Or, I guess, my house? Can I even call it that if I'm just staying there? Tommy wonders as he admires the outside. Suddenly the sound of approaching footsteps snaps Tommy back to the situation.

The door opens, and a short woman with two-toned hair—one side brown, the other white—and half-green, half-red eyes smiles up at them. "Phil, Techno! It's so good to see you!"

She hugs the two quickly and pulls away. Then her eyes flick to Wilbur and Tommy, still holding hands and standing awkwardly behind Phil and Techno. "And these two must be Wilbur and Tommy?"

Tommy juts forward and holds his free hand out for her, "My name is Tommy! It's nice to meet you...?"

She smiles and grabs his hand, shaking it firmly but not unkindly, "Puffy!"

He nods, and she pulls her hand away, moving it to Wilbur's. They shake hands as Wilbur greets her, "Wilbur. Nice to meet you, Puffy."

Once their hands drop, Puffy moves backwards and holds the door open, "Please, come in!"

As they all walk in, Phil first, with Techno, Wilbur and Tommy following after, Tommy takes a moment to admire the inside of the house. The living room and dining room can be seen from the door. Everything is lighter than Phil's, at least colour-wise. The floors are light-coloured wood, maybe birch, and the walls are either white or light cyan.

Puffy leads them to the living room. There is a television mounted on one wall and windows on the wall where the door is. A big, but slightly smaller than the one at Phil's, couch faces the television and Puffy gestures to it. Wilbur and Tommy slowly take a seat on the pink sofa, and Phil and Techno sit in chairs beside the couch, which is light blue.

In front of them, Puffy sits next to a man and on the floor sit two teenagers. The man looks tall, even when sitting on a white bench, and his hair is dark brown. He has sideburns, slight stubble on his chin, and combed-over medium-length hair. He also has half-black and half-red eyes and pointy ears—actually, everyone here except Tommy does, making him feel out of place.

The teens on the floor sit crisscross and seem just as close as Tommy and Wilbur—they're also holding hands. One is a brunet, but there is a bit of blond in his hair, and his eyes are two-coloured, along with a sliver of red at the bottom. One eye is green, and the other is a deep blue. The two also have burn scars on opposite sides of their faces that match each other almost perfectly. The burns look old, but the scarring doesn't look healthy—almost as if it wasn't taken care of properly.

The other teen also has two coloured eyes, but theirs are green and reddish-brown instead. Their hair is mainly a dirty blond that looks browner, but they also have a few strands of white and black on the left side. They have a black mask that covers their nose and mouth. They appear more nervous than the other teen and don't make eye contact, unlike the other, who is glaring daggers at Tommy and Wilbur.

Tommy looks away.

"Well, it's so good to finally meet you two! We've heard so much about you—all good things, of course! Tommy, Wilbur, I'd like you to meet a few of the members of my coven. Some aren't here because of work, such as my lovely fiancé Niki, but they'll join us later." Puffy says as she gestures around her.

She points to the man beside her, "This is my brother, Schlatt!" The man nods to them, and Wilbur and Tommy nod back. Then the process repeats as she introduces Ranboo—the green and red-eyed teen—and Tubbo—the blue and green-eyed one. Tommy feels the eyes of Tubbo as the adults catch up and talk for a moment.

"Tommy, if you'd like, you could go with Tubbo and Ranboo to their room to introduce yourselves better!" Puffy suggests softly. Schlatt suddenly shifts uncomfortably in his seat but nods slowly a moment later.

"Yeah, go on, Tubbo, Ranboo. Show 'em around if ya want." He adds, and Tubbo stands with a quick nod.

Tubbo tugs on his hands and gestures for Ranboo to stand as well. "Yes, sir. C'mon..." Both Schlatt and Tubbo grimace at the name, and Wilbur turns to Tommy, giving him a knowing and nervous look. The honorific doesn't seem intentional, but it's still concerning.

Quickly Ranboo stands up. Tommy is still looking at Wilbur, who is gripping his hand harshly. Wilbur shifts uncomfortably, and he sends nervous down the bond with a pout.

Tommy smiles and whispers, "It's okay, Wil. I'll see ya soon, yeah?" Wilbur lets go of his hand and nods stiffly. Tommy stands up and follows as Tubbo and Ranboo guide him down a hallway near the living room. Then Tubbo opens a door on the right at the far end of the hallway and holds it open for Tommy, who awkwardly shuffles into the room.

The room is insanely pristine as if no one lived in it. There are only a few clothes on the floor and things out of place. There are two beds, one with purple blankets and white sheets and another with yellow blankets and light green sheets. Tommy is directed to sit on a bee-shaped rug on the floor as he admires the decorations on the walls, shelves, and dressers.

Tubbo and Ranboo sit in front of him once the door is shut. Ranboo hovers a hand over Tubbo's hand and hesitantly places it down. The brunet throws Ranboo's hand off and nervously tugs it close to his chest before muttering an apology and setting his hand on the floor, not quite touching Ranboo but twitching closer every few seconds as if he was wishing to hold hands silently.

It's clear that Tubbo, and maybe Ranboo, is the same with touch as Wilbur and Tommy are—touch-starved—but unlike Wilbur and Tommy, he rejects the goosebumps, warmth and buzz of skin-to-skin contact. Tommy doesn't quite understand it because he and Wilbur both love touch, but he isn't about to ask someone he barely knows any kind of personal question.

Ranboo is the first to break the silence, "So, uh, welcome to our room..."

Tommy nods, "Uh, yeah... It's nice and very, uh, bee-themed..."

Ranboo laughs awkwardly and tilts his head to Tubbo. "Yeah, he likes bees. So Schlatt spoils him with tons of bee stuff!"

Tubbo finally speaks up, "Even though I don't like them that much... I just think they're nice..." Ranboo coughs and jabs Tubbo in the side, adding, "But, they're nice... Schlatt is too. He's my sire and kinda like a dad to me, I guess... I'm the closest thing to a kid he has."

Tommy nods, "Oh, I see. Is that why he was uncomfortable to see you leave? Wait, is he not Ranboo's sire too?"

Tubbo nods, then shakes his head, "Yeah, he's only known me three years, and he's still overprotective. Also, no, he's not. I am."

Tommy blinks in confusion, "You? But—"

Tubbo cuts him off, "I'm a fledgling? Yes... I did it impulsively because I couldn't live without Ran."

Ranboo nods, "I was dying... I couldn't live without Tubbo, either. Schlatt wasn't too happy about it, but he's fine with it now." Tommy nods, and Ranboo adds, "Sorry, this is probably a lot. I mean, we just met..."

Tommy smiles, "Nah, it's alright. Seems like a long story, though..."

Tubbo nods, "Oh, it is a long story. One that would probably be a spin-off of a story that only a select few would read."

Both Tommy and Ranboo blink in confusion, and Tommy asks, "...What?"

Ranboo sighs, "He does this from time to time. He also looks around as if there is a camera and he's on a tv show, so disregard most of the weird stuff he says. I don't understand it either, so don't feel bad. We'll probably never understand what he said or him in general."

Tommy nods slowly, "Will do, Ranboob."

"Uh, it's Ranboo..."

Tommy nods, "Okay?"

Tubbo laughs suddenly and pats Ranboo on the shoulder, "Ranboob! Oh my god, why haven't I thought of that? Tommy, my good sir, you are a genius, and I think we're gonna be good friends!"

Tommy smiles, "Yeah... I think so too..."

Chapter Text

Wilbur has been this uncomfortable in years.

As soon as Tommy is out of sight, his mind panics. It screams at him that Tommy, his fledgling isn't safe and that he must follow. It's as if his soul, mind and body are under attack as he beings to panic silently. He's about to get up but stops when Phil bumps his knee against Wilbur's own. He blinks, glancing at Phil.

The man smiles, and Wilbur bawls his hands into fists, gripping at his jeans. He breathes and listens to the sound of Puffy and Techno talking from beside him, the topic not fully reaching his ears. It doesn't help the constant drum of fledgling not safe, not safe, must protect in his head, but it allows him to ignore it momentarily.

He doesn't understand why Tommy leaving his sight scares him so much, but looking at Phil—and even Schlatt, who is staring intensely at him—maybe he can guess. The other much older sires and dame in the open living room, albeit distracted by whatever conversation they are having, look at him occasionally with empathetic looks.

Their empathetic expressions mean this frenzy of emotions and instincts must be a new sire/dame issue, just another thing to add to this new and confusing world he wanted nothing to do with four years ago. Did all sires and dames go through this agonizing need to protect their fledglings? Is this anxiety permanent? Wilbur already had separation anxiety with Tommy years before he became his fledgling. Does he have to endure it all over again, but ten times more intense?

He can hardly hear the people—vampires, not people, some bitter part of him screams—around him speaking. They don't acknowledge him, aside from passing glances. Wilbur appreciates it because if they said something, he'd probably get up and run after Tommy. Tommy, who is currently sending happy emotions down the bond, calming Wilbur down intentionally or not.

Tommy is happy. Tommy isn't being hurt or whatever his mind is telling him. Wilbur's been without Tommy before, and he knows this paranoia won't entirely leave him, even if he knows that Tommy is safe. Because paranoia doesn't care about facts and logic, it just wraps its ugly hands around your neck and squeezes until moving, breathing, and even thinking become a struggle. Still, Wilbur reminds himself that Tommy is safe.

After what feels like agonizing hours—but is probably about ten minutes at most—he notices that he starts to calm down bit by bit. He can hear the conversation around him now. They're just making small talk, something about people whose names slip past Wilbur's cotton-filled ears. However, as they speak, there's an edge behind their tones that tells Wilbur they understand and aren't mad he isn't listening. His fists slowly unfurl, and he breathes as he calms down.

Even after he's calmed down enough to engage slightly in the conversation, Wilbur doesn't speak, but he's better now. He is somewhat perturbed—especially considering that Schlatt is still staring at him from directly across from him—but it's nothing he can't handle. Before he knows it, Puffy addresses him, and he struggles to pull his eyes away from the brunet in front of him.

"Wilbur?" She asks again, bumping her shoulder into Schlatt and finally making him look away from Wilbur. Wilbur turns to her now, and she smiles, "I just wanted to tell you again that the rest of my coven members are arriving soon. I'll introduce them better once they're here, but four people will show up together in a few minutes, okay?"

Wilbur nods, still unsure if he can speak through the anxiety in the back of his mind. Puffy continues, so he doesn't have to, "Their names are Quackity, Foolish, Jack and Niki. Niki and Foolish are my damed, and Niki is my fiancé. Jack is Niki's damed, and Quackity is Schlatt's sired. Again, I'll introduce them once they show up, but just so you're aware! Okay?"

Wilbur nods again and clears his throat, not daring to look anywhere but Puffy because if he sees the others, he might be unable to answer. For some reason, Puffy has a calmer energy than the others—even though he trusts Phil and Techno more than anyone else in the room—and it makes him confident enough to speak through his paranoia and anxiety. She reminds him of the therapist he was forced to go to a few times back in foster care. "Yeah, okay... T-Thanks, ma'am..."

She laughs softly but not cruelly, "No problem! You're a very kind young man, but there's no need to call me that!" She laughs as she adds, "Makes me feel old... You can call me Puffy if you'd like! I don't mind!"

Wilbur flushes as much as his pale skin will allow and nods, words getting caught in his throat again as he tips his head to his chest. That cuts off the eye contact he was making with Puffy, which makes him feel better—he's never liked eye contact, and sometimes it was painful, but sometimes he also had no choice.

Just like that, the conversation between the older sires—and dame—start up again, and Wilbur tries to join in while he can. He wants to make a good first impression if he's going to stay here because Phil likes to invite this group over more than the other groups of friends he has. Wilbur's not too successful, but he's far better than he's ever been. Usually, he keeps his mouth shut and his eyes glued to the floor, but not this time.

He is rather proud of that somewhere deep down. He has never engaged in conversations this much, adding a few comments and laughing along slightly when a funny joke is made. He is proud of that. The conversation drags on a bit longer, though most of it goes over Wilbur's head because it's specific to the group around him and doesn't include him. It's nice to listen, though, so he does.

Until there's a sudden knock on the front door a few feet behind Phil—his chair's back is pointed nearly at it. Puffy jumps up and walks to the door, opening it swiftly. From what Wilbur can see, there is a short black-haired man—vampire—with tanner skin than the rest of them. It's not much darker, but it's certainly dark enough to notice a difference.

Puffy sighs lightheartedly and asks, "You couldn't have waited for Niki? She has a key, you know?"

The black-haired man pushes past her, arms open wide as he walks in and a playful smirk on his face. His eyes are black or maybe dark blue, but his eyes also have a sliver of red at the bottom of the iris. He's younger, Wilbur thinks as he admires the stranger. He does look a bit younger than Wilbur, maybe by two years in vampire years, but he also looks the same age as Wilbur too. It's super confusing.

"Well, yeah, but I wanted to see the newest additions to Techno's coven! Heard that one of 'em is about my age and cute. Plus, the other is a baby vampire! I couldn't contain my excitement, aunty Puffy!" He says with a teasing tone at the end.

Puffy rolls her eyes as she grabs another man's hand at the door and says, "I told you not to call me that." As she pulls the man, who looks tall and robust, in, she adds, "And don't be weird. We don't need you scaring off our guest, and Phil's only fledgling!"

She pulls the taller man into a hug, and he happily giggles, hugging her back. "Hi, Papa Puffy! We're here!"

She laughs and nods as she pulls away, "Yeah, I can see that. Where's Niki?"

A soft voice behind the man speaks up as if on cue, "Right here!" The tall man moves out of the way to show a tiny woman with vibrant pink hair. She's holding a box in her arms and adds, "And I brought dessert! I know one of us can't have them, but I figured it'd be nice anyways..."

Puffy pulls the woman, Niki, into a hug after she hands the box to the taller man at the entrance. Another man stands awkwardly behind Niki at the door and pushes the couple away once they separate from the hug. He closes the door behind him, and now Wilbur can see them all, every member of Puffy's coven.

Everyone at the door is a vampire, of course, and they are a wildly mismatched group of people. Wilbur notices, too, that they all have two earrings on their ears. The earrings are heart-shaped and dangle off the ear from a small golden chain that hangs from a small circular stud in the ear itself. The earrings also have a gem in the golden heart-shaped part, a beautiful red ruby.

The tall, stronger-looking man has long, dirty-blond hair, and his eyes are primarily red, less than Puffy's, though, with a hint of light green at the top. His ears are fully formed, and he has freckles all over every inch of his skin that Wilbur can see. He's dressed very fancily for the occasion, wearing a white button-up and a black vest on top of it with black jeans.

The man who came in last has a thin layer of shaved hair, nearly bald, and pointed ears hidden slightly under black headphones. There's a pink flower clip on them as well. His eyes are hidden by a pair of red and blue square glasses, and all you can see are his eyebrows, one with one black earring that probably loops through the skin around the eyebrow. He's dressed more casually, with a black and blue striped hoodie and green army pants.

Niki is a tiny woman, but she looks dangerous despite that. She has bright pink, nearly hot pink, hair and brown eyes mostly covered with scarlet red. She has black wire glasses framing her features. She also has an eyebrow piercing, but her's is red, like the earrings dangling off her ears. She's in the middle of casual and fancy, with a white button-up adorned with a dull pink checker patterned sweater vest with large black buttons and black jeans. She also has a ton of gold jewellery and a green plant bracelet around her wrist.

The young man who came in first has beauty marks on his face and pointy ears that pop out behind his black hair. He is also somewhat casual, with a grey sweater with a white button-up collar, light blue jeans and a blueish-grey beanie atop his head. He is also staring and smiling at Wilbur, and Wilbur realizes he is staring back. He tosses his head away with a light blush on his cheeks.

"You must be the older one, yeah?" He asks, and Wilbur nods slowly as he looks back.

Puffy guides the group into the living room, and they all find a place to stand around because all the chairs are occupied besides the couch. The black-haired one sees an opportunity in this and plops down beside Wilbur before anyone can say or do anything. He sits exactly like Wilbur but more nonchalant.

Schlatt makes a noise and scolds, "Quackity, up. You're gonna make 'im nervous."

Quackity scoffs, "No, I'm not! You're okay with this, right?"

Surprisingly Wilbur is. He doesn't feel threatened by the bubbly young adult and is even less threatened because of his vampire age. If anything having the younger vampire—fledgling, something screams from inside—makes his separation anxiety and instincts lessen, and he releases tension he didn't realize he had. So, Wilbur nods quickly, not wanting this person his age and younger at the same time to leave.

Schlatt looks hesitant but sighs, "Fine, but if he gets uncomfortable, I'm picking you up myself and moving you." Quackity rolls his eyes and leans back against the couch, wrapping an arm around the back of the couch, somewhat around Wilbur. Wilbur briefly wonders if this Quackity could sense his instincts when he got here and is just trying to calm down a sire instead of wanting to make a friend.

He shakes that off because fledglings can't do that, can they? He's actually not sure, and it makes him feel a bit dumb. He's a vampire; he should know these things. He's not even a fledgling anymore, and he can't blame his lack of knowledge on that. He has been a vampire for four years, but then again, he's only been a sire for a few weeks.

"Anyways, hi! My name's Quackity! And you are?" Quackity asks a second later.

Wilbur clears his throat, "Wilbur. Nice to meet you." His voice is still wobbly from his panic earlier, but Quackity smiles all the same.

Sitting beside Schlatt again, Puffy joins the conversation, "Yes, that's Quackity! Schlatt's second fledging. He's a bit younger than Tubbo, he's actually the same age as Ranboo, but he's also the same age as you in human years!"

Ah, that explains why he looks my age and younger at the same time, Wilbur thinks. 

Quackity makes an indignant cry from his left and says, "Hey! I'm not that much younger than you!"

Oh, he must have said that out loud...

"Oops, uh, sorry..." Wilbur says with a nervous laugh. Quackity jabs him in the side softly and laughs along with him.

"Nah, I'm just messing with ya. It's all good, man!" Wilbur nods and turns back to Puffy when she clears her throat, Quackity giving her a small apology as well.

"As I was saying, that's Quackity. This is Niki, though I'm sure you've gathered that..." She's holding hands with Niki sitting beside her, and Wilbur nods with a soft smile. "The tall one there is Foolish, and the bald one is Jack Manifold."

The bald man, Jack, squaws in protest and the tall one, Foolish, laughs. His laugh sounds like a window cleaner being sprayed, and Wilbur can't help but laugh along, especially when Quackity bubbles with laughter beside him too. Jack continues to protest, "Hey! I have more qualities than just being bald, thank you very much!!"

Wilbur covers his laughter, because he is used to hiding his mouth,—his teeth scared foster parents and siblings—and continues to laugh softly. Everyone is happy and laughing, even Jack, who is playfully glaring at Foolish and Puffy. The air in the room is much lighter than it was a few seconds ago.

When she calms down, Puffy stands up and declares, "I'll be back. I'm gonna get Tubbo, Ranboo and Tommy!"

Wilbur's instincts scream upon hearing his fledgling's name, and he sits up with a frantic nod as Puffy disappears down the hallway to where he assumes Tubbo and Ranboo's room is. Quackity bumps his hand on Wilbur's shoulder, and when Wilbur glances back, he sees Schlatt staring at him again while turning to face Quackity.

"So, tell me about yourself. You're a real mystery, from what I've heard. Wanna see if that's true." Quackity says, successfully distracting Wilbur, and he isn't sure if it is intentional or not.

"Oh, uh, well... What do you wanna know? I'm not that mysterious..." Wilbur rambles as he rubs his hands on his pants.

Jack, Niki, and a few others are making small talk, and Wilbur is glad only Quackity and Schlatt are focused on him. Quackity shrugs, "I don't know! What do ya like to do? Or what's your favourite colour? Just gimme something, man!"

"Uh, I like yellow...?" Wilbur starts, but before he can continue, Puffy returns with the three fledglings and introduces her coven members to Tommy, and Wilbur turns to watch.

"So, Tommy, these are the rest of my coven members. That's Niki, my fiancé and damed, Jack, her damed, and this is my second damed, Foolish!" She points to each one, and Tommy shakes hands with all of them. Then he stands awkwardly until Puffy points to the couch, "Oh, and over there, that's Quackity!"

Wilbur desperately wants to run over and wrap Tommy in his arms, hold him close and hiss at anyone who comes near because of his instincts. However, he restrains himself. This happened all the time before he was Tommy's sire. He's used to ignoring paranoia and possessiveness because of his bad days. It's hard to ignore, but Wilbur has to, even if this kind of paranoia is far more intense than anything he's ever experienced on a bad day. He's a selfish, selfish man, but he won't risk scaring away Phil's friends.

"Niki brought cupcakes that she made today at her bakery, by the way! Oh, and dinner will be done soon! Feel free to go wherever you'd like until then; I'll be in here with Niki!" Puffy says as she walks with Niki to the kitchen, which can be seen from the living room.

Wilbur gestures for Tommy once everyone splits off into groups, Tubbo and Ranboo following Puffy to the kitchen. Tommy hurries over, and Quackity scoots over to allow Tommy to sit beside Wilbur. They both thank him as Tommy settles into Wilbur's side. Wilbur's instincts are instantly calmed as he squeezes Tommy to his side and purrs rumble out from him. Wilbur ignores how Quackity huffs out a soft chuckle. Wilbur relaxes on the couch and sighs as Tommy lies limp against him.

Suddenly, Schlatt is getting up and walking over to them. He sits where Phil was previously sitting, which puts him right next to Wilbur—Phil had gotten up and started talking to Jack and Techno a few feet away. Quackity greets the man happily, and Schlatt smiles at him. Then he turns to Wilbur with a proud and impressed gaze.

"That was impressive control, Wilbur." He says, and Wilbur tilts his head in confusion, so Schlatt adds, "Your sire instincts. I've never seen a first-time sire or dame ignore the instincts that come with a new fledgling that well ever. How long have you been Tommy's sire again?"

Wilbur flushes at the praise, "Uh, for a few weeks..."

Schlatt blinks, and says, "What?! Dude, Quackity, did this guy just say a few weeks?!"

Quackity looks surprised, too, "Yeah, what the fuck?!"

Wilbur rubs the back of his neck, "Uh, well, I've always been possessive over Tommy. It used to be really bad, and sometimes it still is, especially now that he's my fledgling. Though, I'm used to ignoring it now, even if it was way more intense today..."

Schlatt nods, "Ah, okay. Still hella impressive. I didn't leave Tubbo's side for weeks when he was a bit younger. I'm still getting used to him and Quackity being away from me for long periods."

Quackity nods, "He was a complete mother hen a year ago, for real!"

Schaltt rolls his eyes, "Shut up. Anyways, I guess that makes sense. It's probably why Tubbo's the same. Either way, that was good control."

Wilbur nods, "Thank you..." He doesn't really believe Schlatt because he remembers almost getting up several times when Tommy was gone. However, he keeps his mouth shut. There's no need to degrade himself to a man he just met.

Tommy looks up at him, "Hm?"

Wilbur shrugs, "Just instincts, Toms. I'm fine." Tommy nods and shyly looks at Schlatt and Quackity, burrowing further into Wilbur when the two turn to him and smile.

Quackity says, "Hi, I'm Quackity! It's nice to meet you!" Tommy gives a small greeting and a wave when Quackity waves frantically at him.

Schlatt greets Tommy with a smile when he hesitantly turns his attention to the brunet, "Hey, kid. It's Tommy, right?"

"Hello. Yes, sir," Tommy says, looking down. Wilbur grimaces slightly, and so does Schlatt.

It makes sense why Tommy is hesitant around Schlatt and why he is so formal when addressing him. He looks like a stereotypical bad foster dad, the ones Wilbur had to fight tooth and nail to get him and Tommy away from. Though, it seems that you shouldn't judge a book by its cover because Schlatt actually seems rather nice, albeit a bit tired and stern, maybe.

Schlatt sighs softly and turns to Quackity, "Damn. I really do look like a supervillain, don't I Q? That's two teens who called me sir when they first met me."

Quackity laughs and nods, "Yup, Tubbo was right! Total supervillain vibes!"

Schlatt glares at him, but there's a teasing playfulness behind his eyes. He looks back to Tommy and softly says, "You don't have to call me that. I'm nice, I swear. I know I, apparently, look mean, but you really can call me Schlatt. No need for that 'sir' shit..."

Tommy nods slowly, "Okay, sorry..."

Schlatt softens even more than he already was. "Don't apologize. It's fine, kid." He smiles softly, and Tommy copies him, albeit with more anxiety and fear than Schlatt.

Quackity bumps his shoulder against Tommy. "If you want, you can even call him a shithead. He really won't care!" He whispers though he isn't that quiet because Wilbur and Schlatt can clearly hear him.

Schlatt glares at Quackity, "Hey, don't teach him swears. Kid's like ten... Or something... How old are you?"

Tommy hates being called younger than he is, and Wilbur can practically see how Tommy is going to answer before it happens. Though, when Tommy speaks, he isn't as mad as Wilbur thought he'd be, "Fuck you. I'm eleven." 

Schlatt blinks. "Oh... Okay—"

Tommy continues, cutting Schlatt off, "And the biggest man alive. I know all the swear words." Maybe he shouldn't, but it's true. Tommy does know a ton of swear words; he's heard them from foster families, foster care employees and Wilbur himself.

Schlatt laughs softly, "You and Tubbo both. Poor Ranboo's gonna be so corrupted if you all hang out..."

Tommy nuzzles into Wilbur proudly and says, "Yeah, I'm gonna teach them sooo many words if Tubbo hasn't already!" Wilbur goes to scold him, but Puffy cuts him off when she announces dinner is ready.

Slowly but surely, everyone makes it to the kitchen—everyone but Tommy, of course. Wilbur fed him beforehand because Tommy can't eat the foods Puffy is serving. He's a fledgling and not even a month old yet. After a year, Tommy can start to eat human food and blood from humans too, and he'll eventually gain immunity to it. However, he'd probably get sick if he had any right now. Wilbur doesn't want that to happen.

Everyone else can eat, though. After a few minutes, everyone is grabbing food, drinks and a cupcake from the box Niki brought. Once Wilbur gets his food, he returns to the living room. He has a plate with some food—not as much as everyone else's but still—on it, and he's hesitant to eat in the living room, but the dining table is full. Phil and Techno wave him over to the couch where Tommy is chatting with Quackity and reassure him it's okay, so he starts to eat. He's never liked eating in front of people, but he ignores it and eventually, his plate is mostly empty.

Once everyone is finished, Puffy drags Schlatt along to gather the dishes and clean them. He groans and complains, but she scolds him lightheartedly, and he begrudgingly listens. The living room becomes full again, people dragging chairs from the long dining table in. There's a light chatter as Puffy and Schlatt clean up. Tommy stays quiet, and Wilbur only speaks when Schlatt or Quackity ask him something.

The night goes on, with everyone talking and laughing. Eventually, they all decide to watch a short movie together. Once it's over, the energy comes to a lull. Wilbur notices that Techno seems fidgety and anxious to leave. Phil apparently sees it, too, as he stands up and says, "Well, we should probably head home. It's getting late... Thank you for the lovely night, Puffy!"

Puffy stands up, too, causing Techno, Wilbur and Tommy to follow. "It's no problem! It was nice to meet you, Wilbur and Tommy!"

Wilbur nods, "It was nice to meet you too. All of you." Tommy nods frantically, too, as he bounces from the tips of his toes to his heels. Phil ushers them forward and smiles at Puffy as he guides them through the mess of people and chairs.

"Have a good night, everyone! I'm sure we'll see you soon!" Phil says as Techno grabs the door and holds it open. He taps his foot while he stands there.

Puffy walks them to the door as everyone says their goodbyes. Tommy waves to Tubbo and Ranboo, and they wave back. Niki and Phil say goodbye, her coming over to hug him quickly, and Wilbur gives a slight wave to Quackity and Schlatt. They give one back as Techno pushes Wilbur out of the door. Puffy holds open the door and says, "You all have a good night too!! Bye!!"

Wilbur decides it was a good night as they walk across the street and back to Phil's. Sure, the night was filled with the most people he's ever met in one day, but it was good nonetheless. Maybe he really could get used to this if this is what living with Phil and being his sired is like. He feels their bond grow slightly, and he smiles at the blond when they arrive home—Phil smiling back fondly. 

Yeah, maybe he really can get used to this.

Chapter Text

Tommy isn't used to meeting so many people at once, but here he is again.

It's been a day since he and Wilbur meet one group of Phil's friends—the Captain's Crew Coven—and now they're doing it again but with two vampire covens. This time though, the covens are coming over to Phil's. Tommy's not sure why. When he asked Phil if they were coming over because their house was far away, Phil laughed and told Tommy that one group did, but the other only lived a few houses down.

Still, Tommy was bouncing with anticipation.

Phil told him he'd be meeting four more fledglings around his age, not only in vampire years but human as well. He was so excited! Meeting Tubbo and Ranboo was fun, so Tommy hoped this would be as well. Tommy was literally bouncing with excitement on the couch. He hoped Phil's place was big enough for everyone, but looking around the living room and kitchen area, Tommy guessed it will be okay.

Plus, there's always the yard to hang out in if need be. Poor Wilbur, though, he won't like the number of people all around him. Wilbur's never liked crowds of people, but Tommy has never really minded. Despite everything, Tommy likes having an audience of people to entertain. He likes making people laugh, and if he can get at least one person to smile, that'll be a win in his book.

A sudden knocking snaps Tommy—and Phil, who's in the kitchen finishing up dinner for the guests—into action. Wilbur, sitting beside Tommy on the green couch in the kitchen, is dragged up by Tommy and his excitement. Wilbur stumbles, tugging Tommy close and scolding him lightheartedly.

Phil puts the glass dish of casserole down and rushes to the door. Techno emerges from his room with a sigh as Phil opens the front door. There is a tall green-haired man at the door who greets Phil with a big, mighty hug when the blond opens his arms. "Sam!" Phil says as he lets go and ushers the group of people at the door into the living room.

A group of five walks into the room and, after putting their shoes and coats away in a closet by the front door, crowd around Phil. Wilbur and Techno hang back, with Tommy only slightly shifting towards the group with a curious gaze. It seems a few members of the group are just as interested in him as he is in them because two smaller, younger people lean in too.

Phil coughs, drawing everyone's attention to him, "While we wait for the others, I might as well introduce you all. So, everyone, this is Tommy," Phil points to him and Tommy waves, preening as all attention is turned on him, "And this is Wilbur!" Wilbur squeezes Tommy's hand and waves as well, albeit less enthusiastic than Tommy. Phil continues as he points to the tall man who greeted him at the door, "Tommy, Wilbur, this is Sam. He is their coven leader—the coven being the Badlands Coven!"

Sam is if Tommy had to guess, as tall as Techno and probably just as strong. Sam's eyes are completely red and only slightly darker than the scarlet red of a ten-year-old vampire like Phil. He also has a few light brown freckles on his face but not as many as Foolish had. He is wearing a sage green jacket with gold accents, black pants, and there is a small golden broach on the jacket.

The broach is on all of their outfits, actually. It's a small circular broach with a heart in the middle, all made of gold. The Captain's Crew Coven also had matching jewellery. Techno and Phil have matching emerald earrings as well. Tommy wonders if it's a vampire thing that he doesn't know about. He'll ask about it later when he isn't so interested in learning about this new group of people.

"This is Hannah, Sam's sired!" Phil says as he points to a kind-looking brunette woman.

She is adorned with roses on her shirt and hair, and Tommy has to wonder if their real or not. She has mostly scarlet red eyes but at the top of the iris is a sliver of light green. She is wearing a pink sweater with a green and hot pink rose-shaped bag and a darker pink skirt. She has white socks with two stripes of dark pink at the top, and she has a few green plant-like bracelets around the upper arms of her sweater.

Phil then points to the younger vampires who are staring intently at him, "These are her fledglings, Beau and Olive!" Tommy beams at them when they both smile at him.

Olive reaches a hand out to meet his, "Hi! I'm Olive! Oh, and I use they/them pronouns, what about you?"

Olive has dark brown hair with streaks of blond, and it's all tied up in a neat braid that wraps over their shoulder. Olive's eyes are mostly brownish-green with a sliver of red at the bottom, and their ears are fully grown. They have a dull green jacket on with the broach clipped into a pocket on their chest. They're also wearing a white button-up and brownish-black jeans—there's a tear in one knee.

Tommy smiles, "Oh, uh, he/him!" He's only been asked that question a few times, but it's still nice that Olive cares enough to ask.

Olive nods and Beau holds a hand out as well, "I'm Beau, and I use she/her! It's nice to meet you! Tommy, right?" Tommy nods with a smile.

Beau has half-black, half-platinum blond hair, part of it is tied up with a big white bow in the back that Tommy can only somewhat see. Her eyes are mostly a light blue, but there is also a bit of red at the bottom, more than Olive has. She is wearing a black tank top, but she had a grey jacket on when she first arrived and Tommy wonders if she has the broach too. She also wears light blue jeans with holes in the knees as well.

"And last but not least is Ponk. They aren't a vampire, but they are Sam's best friend. They all live together a few houses down from us!" Phil says, and Ponk extends a hand to shake Tommy's.

"I go by any pronouns, by the way, just so you know! It's nice to meet you!" He shakes Wilbur's hand when it's offered and pulls away with a smile.

Ponk is decidedly human. No pointy ears and no hint of red in their eyes. They have darker skin than everyone here and light, almost white, blond hair. They have a red, black and gold hoodie wrapped around their waist and a white shirt on. The shirt has a lemon on one side with leaves surrounding it. They also have dark blue jeans with a few burn marks and holes in them.

Tommy tilts his head at the burn marks, and Ponk laughs when he follows Tommy's gaze. "Oh, I make potions. I'm Wicca, and I like magic, but I'm hella clumsy. I shoulda chosen different pants, but oh well!"

Tommy, and even Wilbur, light up at the mention of magic. Tommy's never heard of magic being real. He's only been taught that it's something children make up and pretend to have, especially when traumatized. He's always hoped magic was real, and maybe Ponk is proof of that. Though, in a world where vampires run rampant, it's not too crazy to believe that magic can exist as well. 

"Magic is real!?" Tommy shouts with excitement, bouncing on the tips of his toes.

Ponk laughs softly, "Dude, mind if I steal the child for a moment? Cause I could talk for hours about this!"

Wilbur leans in, "As long as I can come with!"

Phil laughs, "How about after everyone arrives and has been introduced, okay?"

Ponk, Tommy and Wilbur sink in disappointment but don't argue with the older blond man. Phil gestures them into the living room while they wait, and Tommy sits on the floor with the two fledglings he just met. Wilbur sits behind him on the couch and only feels mildly uncomfortable stealing a chair when almost everyone else is standing.

Though, after a few minutes of small talk and banter, a knock on the front door shakes Phil into action yet again. Tommy grabs Wilbur and stands up, following the fellow blond to the door and dragging Wilbur with him. This time when Phil opens the door, a small, black-haired man is at the door. Phil greets him all the same, "Skeppy, welcome! Come in, come in!"

"Hey, Phil. Bad brought food, by the way. You know him." The man, Skeppy, huffs as he shuffles into the main room.

Behind him, a peppy voice exclaims, "I did! Here!" This man, Bad probably, has light brown hair and a box in his hands. "It's muffins, of course!"

Phil laughs as Bad and another group of people shuffle in after him, "No better way to introduce the Muffin Coven, of course!" Phil finally shuts the door behind a seventh and final person that rushes through the door.

Phil points at the man with light brown hair, "Tommy, Wilbur, this is Badboyhalo. He is the coven leader of the Muffin Coven!"

Bad extends a hand, balancing the box of muffins in his other arm, "Hello!" Tommy and Wilbur shake his hand.

Bad is tall but nowhere near as tall as Sam or Techno. His eyes are interesting, however. They are dark crimson red instead of scarlet like younger vampires' eyes are, meaning he's far older than everyone here—even older than Techno, whose eyes are pretty dark. He has a few freckles on his face, and his light brown hair is slightly pulled into a ponytail in the back. He has big circular glasses with wire-rimmed frames, a red shirt with ruffles on the sleeves, a white poet shirt, and black pants.

He, and the rest of his coven, are all wearing a necklace too. It's a long thin gold chain necklace with an obsidian gem at the end. Yet again, Tommy is inclined to ask, but he bites his tongue. Now's not the time. If he wants to know, he will ask after everyone is introduced and settled. Phil pointing to the black-haired man, brings Tommy back to the present.

"This is Skeppy, Bad's first sired!"

Skeppy is shorter than Bad, with tanner skin and spiky black short hair. His eyes are also dark red. He has a cyan-coloured hoodie and black jeans on. He also has the necklace Bad does, but all you can see is the chain, the rest is hidden behind his hoodie. Skeppy waves at Tommy and Wilbur before shoving his hands in the pockets of his hoodie.

"And Antfrost is his second sired." Phil continues, pointing to a brunet on the opposite side of Bad.

Ant had dark brown hair, crimson eyes and the same necklace as Bad and Skeppy. He has a green shirt with a siamese cat on the front and dark blue jeans. He smiles kindly, and Tommy returns it graciously. Phil then describes a brunet with dyed red tips named Velvet. He is Ant's boyfriend and only sired. He has freckles, dark red eyes and a white hoodie with red cherries all over it. He's also wearing light blue jeans.

"Bad's coven is also a combined one. Which means that two covens joined together to make a bigger one. Sneegsnag here is the past leader of his coven, but because they're a combined one and Bad is the oldest, Sneeg loses his role of coven leader." Sneeg nods at Tommy, then waves to Wilbur, who waves back.

Sneegsnag has brown hair, stubble and crimson-coloured eyes as well. He has a dark blue streak in his hair and two necklaces. One is the same one that Bad and his sired have, and the other is a silver chained necklace with a light blue gem, maybe a moonstone, and a ruby gem. He is wearing a grey hoodie with dark blue jeans.

"And last but not least are his fledglings, Aimsey and Eryn!"

The younger vampires lean in, and a short brunette grabs Tommy's hand, "Hi! I'm Aimsey. I go by any pronouns, just so you know!!!"

Aimsey has brown eyes with red at the bottom of them—a bit more than Tommy does—and dark brown hair. They have a beanie with a daisy in the middle, a black and white striped sweater that has a faux white button-up collar, and light blue jeans. They also have a necklace similar to Sneeg's along with the one Bad has but instead of a moonstone, one of the gems is a sapphire.

Eryn extends a hand after Aimsey pulls his away. "And I'm Eryn."

Eryn has darker skin than Aimsey and a smaller sliver of red in his eyes. One eye is a dark brown, maybe black, and the other is a light bluish-grey. He has a dark red ribbon that wraps around his black hair, a dark blue hoodie with red accents and light blue jeans. He also has similar necklaces to Aimsey and Bad, but instead, there's a moonstone and a sapphire on the silver chain.

That's a lot of people... Tommy thinks as he—absent-mindedly—shuffles closer to Wilbur. In return, Wilbur bumps his shoulder and smiles softly at him. Well, the more, the merrier, right? This'll be fun!

Chapter Text

Tommy would say that bonding with his new friends went well, but maybe Phil and Wilbur wouldn't though.

It was going great, talking and joking with Ponk, Eryn and Aimsey. That was until, after dinner, Ponk decided to show Tommy and Wilbur how to make a potion. Phil wasn't a potion maker, or Wicca at all, so he didn't have the proper ingredients Ponk would have liked. However, Ponk could make it work, it is just a simple potion of night vision.

Ponk grabs a spare carrot, a tube of editable gold, and three bottles of water. The only thing they are missing is nether wart, something that only Ponk grew. Ponk isn't sure if or how someone could substitute nether wart, so he grabs the next best thing: a beet. It'd probably work, right?

Ponk then, carefully, while no one was looking, runs to the basement where Tommy and Wilbur are waiting for him. Finally, down the stairs, Ponk walks to the table in the far back of the main room. He places the bottles down and then the carrot, fake gold and beet. Then, because Tommy and Wilbur look at him with confusion, explains, "These are the only ingredients I could find. I normally would use something called nether wart, but Phil doesn't have any of that. So, I hope this beet will do the trick..."

"What are we making?!" Tommy exclaims with excitement, practically bouncing in his seat at the small, round wooden birch table.

Ponk laughs softly, almost fond of this kid he's only met today. He loves when people are enthusiastic about his hobby because he is too. "A potion of night vision!"

"Ooh! How?!" Tommy asks, slamming his hands on the table in anticipation. The table shakes, and he pulls his hands away sheepishly as if he forgot that his strength is getting better day by day because of the venom inside him.

Vampires are so interesting to Ponk, and if he were a scientist, he'd love to test with that venom that runs through a vampire's entire body. However, he's not a scientist. He's a witch,—Wicca—a potion maker. Still, it was interesting to see their heightened senses—which he got to do a lot, living with five of them, after all.

"I'll show you, man! Chill!" Ponk laughed softly. Tommy pulled back and nodded, not even slightly embarrassed about his excitement. It is expected. He is still a child, eleven at that, so he should have this child-like excitement still—at least a little bit, right?

Upon grabbing the beet, Ponk pulls out his pocket knife—he keeps it on him at all times in case he needs to cut something up for a potion—and cuts the beet up into equal parts. Then he puts the small pieces into the water bottles after drinking a bit of the liquid so the pieces will fit.

Then he shakes them up and does his best to heat them without a fire, stove or brewing station. The tattoos infused with magic on his arms—sigils—glow a soft orange as he uses his magic to heat the bottles up. Tommy and Wilbur gasp at that, and Ponk laughs as they admire the magic show happening right in front of him. However, a recurring problem Ponk has with his magic starts to rise up.

Whenever Ponk gets too prideful or excited, his magic can go haywire. It's because he's still a young witch. He doesn't have control of his magic and emotions, so they intertwine a lot. This causes problems, hence why Ponk's pants have burn marks and holes and why the skin around his hands is covered in burn marks. Plus, there's the added issue of the potion being made without nether wart. However, Ponk is only focused on Tommy and Wilbur's excitement.

Once Ponk sets the bottles down—now filled with mundane potions, which are useless— the white-haired male grabs the carrot and tube of fake gold. He puts the gold on the carrot as best as he can and then cuts it up too. After putting it in the bottle, Ponk's eyes twinkle with amusement. "Ready for this? This is where the real fun begins!"

Tommy and Wilbur nod frantically. Ponk's smile only grows wider as they grab the bottles again. Then as they shake the mundane potions with golden carrots in them, Ponk starts infusing magic into the potion. They focus on night vision, thinking of anything relating to the night and seeing in the dark.

His magic seeps through his veins, making its way to the bottles and trying to them into night vision potions. However, because of his pride and the potion's ingredients, it doesn't work. The force of the magic because of his pride, the incorrect ingredients and the heat of the liquid inside all lead to the glass heating up too much. The bottles explode in Ponk's hands, and everyone screams, ducking for cover upon hearing the shattering of glass.

Of course, because of the screaming, everyone upstairs storms down the stairs. Phil, who is the first to reach the basement, sees Ponk lying on the ground and Wilbur covering Tommy under the table in the kitchenette. The young vampires don't seem hurt, Phil breathes a breath of relief. However, Ponk is hurt.

His hands are red, and there's glass all over the floor—luckily, there is no glass in Ponk's hands. Still, Phil runs over and carefully steps around the glass. Behind him, Sam rushes in as well. He has a cool bottle of water, burn cream and bandages. It seems like he was almost prepared for this. Seeing how many burn scars cover Ponk's hands, though, Phil thinks he can guess why Sam is prepared.

They clean and fix Ponk's hands as others from the party clean the glass and strange liquid all over the floor. Setting Ponk down in a nearby seat, Sam lightheartedly berates them for making a potion with unsafe ingredients again. Ponk pouts, and magic surges out in small sparks like a broken firecracker.

Wilbur and Tommy huddle around and fuss over Ponk, apologizing as if it was their fault Ponk got burned. Ponk shakes their head and says, "Guys, stop that. I got too cocky. Really, it's not your fault. I'll be fine!"

Sam shakes his head, "This is why you should wear gloves, Ponk..." Then he looks up at Wilbur and Tommy, who are nervously shuffling on their feet, "Really, he does this all the time. It's just a magic-user issue. He gets overconfident, and his magic surges more than it should. It's not your fault, it's alright. He'll be okay, I promise!"

Sam smiles, and Tommy can't help but feel that it's genuine. Tommy nods slowly, tugging Wilbur's sweater and interlocking their hands on instinct. Wilbur seems less convinced but slowly nods a moment later. Phil doesn't seem convinced, either.

"Are you sure? Is there anything I can do to help?" Phil asks as he fusses over Ponk as well.

Sam softens and nods, "Yes, I'm sure. I've treated many burns of his. There's nothing more you can really do. Trust me, Phil, he's gonna be just fine."

Phil nods, but his hand still rests on Ponk's back. Tommy realizes that his other hand is resting on Wilbur's back too. He can't tell if that's a good or bad thing. Wilbur doesn't shake his hand off, but it could be out of fear. Tommy knows that foster parents in the past have blamed Wilbur for less than this and he's gotten hurt because of it.

Tommy doesn't think Phil would do anything bad to Wilbur, but there's still that fear in the back of his head. He doesn't want to see his brother get smacked, kicked, punched or yelled at again. However, Phil doesn't do any of that right now. He just rubs circles on Wilbur's back and hovers.

So, for now, Tommy tries to relax and focus on what happened before the bottles blew up because magic is real. That's all that Tommy thinks is a positive outcome of this whole situation. Magic is real, and he just saw it right in front of him. And maybe Tommy sees the night as successful when everyone leaves, and Wilbur doesn't get hurt or yelled at for what happened.

Decidedly, Tommy smiles as he falls asleep because it was a good night.

Tommy and Wilbur have almost been here for a month, and things have been getting better day by day-at least, Tommy thinks.

Tommy's ears and teeth have mostly stopped hurting, he's gotten to hang out with Tubbo and Ranboo more, plus he's gotten closer with Beau, Olive, Aimsey and Eryn as well! He's also gotten super close with Phil and even Techno—who Tommy's discovered looks intimidating but is actually a giant sap. It's been good for Wilbur too.

Wilbur has been the calmest he ever has been. He seems happy—which makes Tommy happy, too, because Wilbur hasn't gotten to be happy very often. Tommy has watched his brother—sire—bond more and more with Phil every day since they've gotten here. Tommy doesn't doubt that their bond, in vampire terms and human, has grown a lot.

Tommy smiles as he sits in the garden with Techno, who is busy tending to flowers right beside him. Out of nowhere, Techno chuckles, "What's got you so happy, Theseus?"

Theseus is the nickname Techno has given Tommy because, apparently, Techno gives people he likes nicknames. Wilbur's was hyacinths, Phil's was old man, and his was Theseus. Tommy couldn't be happier with it. It made him feel cool, important and loved. Tommy giggles, "Nothing! How'd you even know I was happy? You're not even looking at me!"

Techno huffs, "You're kicking your feet, and I can hear them, ya know. Besides, you're always happy out here. So, what's on your mind, kid?"

Tommy huffs, "S'nothing... Sappy shit that I, as a big man, would never think."

Techno rolls his eyes, "Okay, fine. Don't tell me then, 'big man.'" He says it and makes fake air quotes in the air.

He doesn't exactly have a smirk on his face, but Tommy knows what he's doing, and he won't fall for it. Techno is good at picking up how to make Tommy talk, and Tommy only realized it a few days ago. Now he knows when Techno is only trying to make him angry, so he'll speak—Tommy is known for speaking without thinking, especially when he's mad.

Eventually, Tommy can't stop himself from speaking, "I am a big man, just so you know."

Techno smirks now as he pulls his gardening tools away from the flowers. "Yeah?" He urges, only making Tommy madder because he's so smug.

"Yeah! I am because I am great and tall and large. I am massive. And just because I like you doesn't mean I'll spill all my thoughts to you, I'm too cool for that!" As Tommy rants, Techno's smirk only grows. It also only makes Tommy madder.

"Uh-huh?" Techno says again, and finally, Tommy breaks.

"You think you're sooo clever! You think that if you make me mad enough, I'll tell you why I'm happy, huh? What, you think I'll tell you that I'm happy because of Wilbur and the nickname you give me and—" Tommy stops, snapping his jaw shut once he realizes what he's done.

Techno seems triumphant. "You just did, Theseus. Now, what was that about the nickname?"

Tommy's face is as red as his newly pale skin will allow as he turns away, "Fuck you!"

Techno chuckles, "Yeah, yeah, whatever. C'mon, Thes, talk to me. You've already spilt the beans."

Tommy huffs, and after a few minutes, he gives up, "Fine. I'm happy because Wilbur is. It's... Hard for him to be happy sometimes, so when he is... I am too. Plus, bonding with you, Phil, and you're friends has made me happy because—because I feel safe..."

Techno blinks at his honesty and smiles softly. "Oh... Well, I'm glad then. It's good you feel safe and happy here, Wilbur too..."

Tommy looks at him before swiftly looking away, "W-Whatever... Happy now that I've spilt my big, manly thoughts?"

Techno smiles, "Yeah, I am, Theseus. I am happy."

Tommy can only groan fondly. Me too, he thinks, I'm happy too...

Chapter Text

Wilbur decided that Phil was alright, and he would prove it to himself.

What better way to do that than by spending the whole day with him? It was a day when Phil didn't have work, but that didn't mean he wasn't busy in other ways. Phil needed to go to a library, and as much as his instincts screamed to stay beside Tommy, he asked to go with him.

Phil blinks in surprise at the request, "Are you sure? You'll be away from Tommy for a while if you come with. I don't just have to go to the library; I also need to grab some groceries. I'd be happy to bring you along, but is that something you really want to do?"

Wilbur nods. He needs to show himself that Phil isn't like the other adults. Phil has repeatedly proved that but that never made Wilbur's fear disappear. Sure, Phil had never yelled or raised his hands in anger against Tommy or him, and sure, Phil proved over and over how kind he was even if Wilbur broke something, yelled at him, or was rude. However, he needed more still—it was hard to break years of abuse from foster parents.

Phil smiles, "Alright, then. C'mon, let's go!"

Wilbur waved to Tommy as he threw a coat and shoes on. Tommy smiled fondly and waved back, "See ya later, Toms!"

"Bye, Wil!! Have fun! See ya when you get back!!" Tommy says as Phil opens the front door and softly gestures Wilbur out while saying his goodbyes as well. Tommy waves frantically as the door slips closed. Wilbur turns to face Phil, who smiles kindly at him.

Here we go...

Wilbur's only been to a library once in his formative years, but it's not like he really remembers the experience. He was maybe seven or eight, and his parents just let him run wild while they picked up books and left him in the library to visit other important stores in the mall. All Wilbur remembers is running around and, when he couldn't find his parents, crying and screaming until they returned.

So, safe to say he was never brought back.

Either way, Wilbur likes the look of this library. It's a few minutes from home—since when did he call Phil's house home?—and it was huge. It looked as if the ceiling when up for infinity, with books and a ladder adorning the tall walls. There were many places to sit and even a place for the younger kids to play and get read to—this is probably where his parents should've dropped him off instead of a mall bookstore.

Wilbur quietly and quickly caught up to Phil, who was patiently waiting for him a few feet away from the front doors of the establishment. "Sorry..." Wilbur muttered as he joined the blond. However, Phil didn't whisper-yell, grab him by the wrist, and drag him forward for his incompetence.

He just smiled, "Don't apologize. This place always makes people stop and stare! It's why I love it! Anyways, c'mon!"

Wilbur nods and follows like a lost little duckling following its mother, which is ironic. Phil strolls, letting Wilbur take in the whole building. There are balconies above them with more seating areas and books. It's fascinating because Wilbur has never seen this many books in one place before. He wants to read them all.

Phil finally stops in front of a row of cookbooks and taps his chin while he glances over the titles. After a moment, he makes a triumphant noise and grabs a book titled 50 Recipes That Every Vampire Should Know. Wilbur smiles at that because it's nice to see such a vampire-friendly town with books like that.

Phil turns to him, "If you want, you can look around while I check out. I can even check out a book for you if you find something you'd like to read!"

Wilbur feels a slight fear crawl up his throat at the idea of Phil leaving him alone in such an extensive library. He is talking before he can even realize what he's doing, "Uh, I-I don't know where anything is... Could you maybe s-stay or show me where some stuff is...?"

Phil smiles, "Sure! Is there anything specific you want to read?"

Wilbur holds in a sigh of relief as he thinks about the question. He wondered if there were more books like the one Phil gave him. He hadn't read it all yet, but it really helped him learn new things about himself and other vampires. So, a moment later, Wilbur nods and asks, "Are there any more books on vampires...?"

Phil lights up and nods, "Yeah! I think they're over here, c'mon! Let's go find 'em together, yeah?" Wilbur nods and follows swiftly after Phil when the blond whips around and guides Wilbur up a flight of stairs and over to a cute corner in the back of this particular balcony area. Phil stops and turns to Wilbur with a bright smile, "Here we are!"

Wilbur dips in graduate, "Thank you!"

Phil nods, "Of course, you want me to stay while you pick something out? If you want to check something out, of course..."

Wilbur nods frantically and turns his attention to the bookshelf behind Phil. Phil stands beside him as they both read the titles and admire the covers of certain books that are turned out to display the covers. Wilbur hesitantly steps forward and grabs a book which intrigues him. It's a book called Vampires: Covens, Sire-Fledgling and Bonds.

He turns to Phil, and after he smiles, he guides Wilbur to the front desk to check out both books. Wilbur smiles as the books go into a bag, and Phil grabs it before they both turn to the entrance and leave the library. Wilbur decides right then and there to visit this library more, maybe even get his own library card too—that way, he can come alone if he wants to.

After going to the library and grocery store, Phil drives to a small café in a quiet corner of the city. It's a dull pink colour on the outside with white accents, but on the inside, it's the opposite. It's charming and, just like the rest of the city, it's very vampire friendly. Wilbur wonders why this town is so gracious to his kind, not that he isn't grateful.

As the two sit down in a booth, Wilbur sees why Phil choose this place over any other. Niki, the petite woman he'd met not even a few weeks ago, saunters to their table with a bright, almost fond, smile. "Phil! My favourite regular!" She exclaims before turning fondly to Wilbur, "Hi! I didn't expect to see you here, Wilbur, but I'm glad Phil finally dragged you here! He's been waiting forever to do that!"

Phil flushes and waves a hand at her, "Niki..." He says, embarrassed and fond.

Wilbur smiles as he turns back to Niki, "He's kinda been showing me around town, but this is the prettiest place so far!" He's nearly smirking as he speaks. He knows that Niki owns the place. He's heard from Phil, Niki herself and others all about it.

Niki flushes, and her smile widens, "Oh, quite the little charmer you are once you're comfortable, huh?" Wilbur blushes and looks away with a laugh, and Niki continues, "Anyways, I normally would bring Phil a menu—since he's been here so much. However, you haven't! So here!"

She hands him a cute little menu and dips her head, "I'll give you a minute to look it over!" She's wonderfully professional and kind, everything she presents herself as. She walks away to manage other tables, and Wilbur turns his attention to the menu.

As expected, there are drinks, pastries, cakes, cookies and more on the front of the lamented menu. The back side is dedicated to vampire versions of those drinks, pastries and cakes. Wilbur is only slightly overwhelmed by all this vampire stuff—there are so many around, so much peace rather than the hate he's known his whole life.

He's never seen a place so welcoming. Sure, it's not perfect, and he still gets the occasional stare or odd look, but it's far better than any other town he's been in. Wilbur doesn't even know why even as he settles on a drink and Niki returns to get their orders. Even as she returns to the kitchen area to make them, Wilbur still doesn't understand. He has to ask; it will weigh him down if he doesn't.

"So, Phil, I've got a question..." He starts, and Phil turns his attention from people watching to him—Wilbur liked that, even if he didn't like eye contact. Phil nods as if to say tell me more, so Wilbur continues, "Why's this place so vampire friendly?"

In thought, Phil blinks and tilts his head, much like a bird. Then he says, "It's the first town to write laws for vampires. The town used to be horrible for vampires, at least from what I've been told—I'm not old enough to know, despite what you, Tommy and Techno think. It was the first town to have a vampire in court and have a trial sent to the government. L'Manburg was the first to house us, give us rights and allow us to get jobs and go to school!"

Wilbur nods with a small, "Huh... Interesting!" as he continues to nod. He wants to read about it, learn more about it. Maybe once he gets a library card, he can find books on L'Manburg's history—he still can't believe the town is named that. He doesn't say much more because Niki returns with their drinks, thus ending the short conversation.

After she waits for Wilbur to try—and fall in love with—his drink, she walks off to tend to her café. He and Phil talk about anything and everything, even about potentially sending Tommy to school. It's summer, so school is not in session, but it's nice that Phil is so willing to care for Tommy and Wilbur to think of schooling.

"What about you, Wilbur?" He asks, and Wilbur blinks back to reality.

"Hm?" Wilbur asks with confusion.

"Would you want to go to school, college, anything? I could help with that, too, if you'd like!" Phil says with a bright smile, and Wilbur blinks.

It's just like a dad asking his son about college plans like Wilbur's dad never got to do. Wilbur's dad died before he could ever think to ask about anything close to high school, let alone college—he probably wouldn't have asked either. It warms Wilbur's heart in a way that he doesn't understand.

"Oh, uh, 'm not sure yet about anything like that... I didn't exactly finish high school..."

It's true. When all you can worry about is your next meal, your next meeting with foster parents and your social worker and whether or not you'll have to step in to be yelled at, hit or kicked, you really don't wonder about your future, much less if you'll go to college or not. He's never really thought about what comes after getting to Phil's place, what jobs he can get without his high school diploma—hey, he almost got one, then his parents died. He was just a freshman.

"That's fine! We can figure it out later, yeah?" Phil asks softly. Wilbur can't help but think about how he really sounds like a father,—or at least what Wilbur believes a father is supposed to sound like—kind, gentle, caring, and most of all, loving. Wilbur wants that, a father. Wilbur wants someone to care about him that way, to hold him when he cries, bandage his wounds and encourage him when he is low. He wants Phil.

"Thank you, I mean for that!" Wilbur sputters as the fond words leave his mouth, feeling out of his element. Phil just smiles at him with the same fond look he's been looking at Wilbur with, and Wilbur has to look away, overwhelmed by the pure, fatherly love in Phil's features.

The bond between him and Wilbur grows a bit more, enough that Wilbur can feel a bit of that overwhelming love. Wilbur can't help but smile at it. It's warm and unfamiliar to any other than love—even from Tommy's love for him, but not any less intense.

It's family, just as Tommy's love is.

After Wilbur and Phil finish their drinks and say their goodbyes to Niki, they get back in Phil's car. It's dark out now, surprisingly, and so Phil drives home—home, Wilbur is calling Phil's house home already. Phil parks the car in the garage, and then the two walk through the door that leads into the kitchen and dining room of the house.

Tommy comes running, wrapping himself around Wilbur like a koala, and Wilbur laughs. "Toms, I was only gone for a few hours..." He says even though his instincts are buzzing with relief, he still isn't used to being away from his fledgling—much like Tommy isn't used to being away from his sire.

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever. Did'ya have fun?" Tommy asks, and Wilbur laughs again.

"Yeah, I did. There was this cool library that was like a church on the inside. It was gorgeous, large glass windows and everything!" Wilbur exclaims as he picks Tommy up and walks them both into the living room.

Tommy winces but nods slowly. Wilbur also winces because when Tommy was young, he was in a religious foster home, which wasn't good. They were one of the nasty homes that damaged Tommy a lot, and Wilbur wasn't around to help him—mainly because his parents were still alive. Wilbur sends reassurances down the bond and whispers an apology—knowing that religion is a touchy subject for Tommy.

Still wrapped around Wilbur's upper body, Tommy bumps his forehead against the brunet's and smiles, giving Wilbur wordless forgiveness. Wilbur smiles as he rests his forehead on Tommy's. Love-love-love floods the bond from both of them, and they both smile as Phil fondly ushers them to bed.

A few moments later, Wilbur finds himself getting ready for bed with Tommy. Tommy opens the window and looks out of it while Wilbur changes into new clothes—Phil didn't like how few clothes he and Tommy showed up with, so now Wilbur and Tommy have drawers full of new clothes.

Wilbur calls Tommy to the bed once he finishes, and Tommy listens, leaving the window open as he does. It's a nice, cool enough night for Wilbur not to protest, so the window stays open as the two cuddle together. Wilbur tugs Tommy close, and the blond grumbles, pushing away. "Clingy." He complains fondly.

Wilbur huffs, "Fine, child, don't accept my affection!" Tommy huffs right back and mocks him. A moment later, he's back by Wilbur's side, pressing his nose into Wilbur's shoulder. Lazily, sleepily, Wilbur wraps an arm around him as he smiles,  "Goodnight, Toms..."

"Night, Wil... Love you..."

"Love you too, little brother..." Wilbur says as he stares up at the ceiling.

He hears Tommy drift to sleep, and his thoughts cloud his tired mind. He can't help but think of the good day he's had, how badly he wants Phil as his dad and Techno and Tommy as his brothers and this life that Phil and Techno have been living for years. It's wonderful, and maybe this can be his and Tommy's forever home. He wants it to be.

Living here sounds wonderful, and maybe Phil as his sire and father, would be too. Yeah... Phil, my father and sire... That's nice... Wilbur thinks as he closes his eyes. The bond between them finally clicks into place, and even though Phil is probably asleep, he can feel the admiration and love Phil has for him fill his head as he falls asleep.

He can't help but think that this is everything he's ever needed in life. This love is so powerful, so familial. It's wonderful, and Wilbur feels protected by it. Nothing could ever go wrong now. He's protected. He's safe, and so is Tommy. They're safe now; this is what safety feels like. They have nothing to worry about now because Phil's love will protect them. They are finally safe for once.

Wilbur is safe now.

Chapter Text

There are four fundamental problems Tommy has as immediately upon waking up.

First, he's not on the comfortable bed he was on mere hours ago. Instead, he's on a cold, hard concert—not wood—floor. Second, his head is full of emotions that are not his own. There's a familiar presence—Wilbur—but then there are two others he doesn't immediately recognize also swarming his head. Third, it's dark. It's so incredibly dark as if it is nighttime instead of the bright daylight that usually streams through his and Wilbur's singular window. The fourth is that this isn't his and Wilbur's room—probably not even Phil's house.

Tommy jolts awake from the panic swarming his head and his own terror. His eyes scan the room and in the far corner, shrouded in darkness, is a figure. Tommy can't really see it—his vision is still fairly human—but he can hear them. Hear them whimper, ragged, low and fearful. He hisses—a sharp awkward thing that sounds like a cat more than a vampire.

They gasp, shuffling backwards as they start to speak, "Hey, no! I'm not—"

However, Tommy cuts them off as he stands and growls, "Who are you?! Where am I?!" He barks, getting ready to lunge at the figure.

He has no idea who is there, let alone where he is or if this is who kidnapped him, but he's definitely been abducted. He is terrified, but Tommy won't hesitate to fight when cornered. He is more powerful as a vampire, maybe not as much as Wilbur—and definitely not near as powerful as Technoblade or Badboyhalo—but it doesn't matter. He'll fight his way out of this, even if it kills him.

Tommy is almost scared of this new drive to fight, to kill. It's like nothing he's ever experienced before. Therefore, it must be a vampire thing—maybe even a new vampire thing. Tommy's not really sure, but it seems that the other person—vampire?—does. The other shuffles away again, their back hitting the wall as they frantically say, "I don't know! I'm not the one who took you. My name is Pur—"

Tommy growls and lunges anyways. He's close enough to find the figure relatively quickly, even in the pitch-black darkness that fills the small, concrete room. The vampire hisses—definitely a vampire—and shakes, trying to rip Tommy's sharp claws off their body. Tommy, however, digs in harder. The vampire screams and then gasps, covering their mouth.

Tommy is screaming, too, asking them questions. They reach up as they both thrash around, trying to quiet Tommy down. They shush him as they carefully avoid his bared fangs—his fangs are still tiny, but he can still do damage with them. "Please! Stop screaming! He's gonna be so angry! Just—listen to me!!" They whisper to him, but he doesn't.

Then, thunderous footsteps alert Tommy to the single metal door, and he freezes. The figure takes advantage of his hesitance and grabs him. They cover his mouth, shush him again and try to cover his mouth as the door flings open. Tommy doesn't even protest because there is something more important than the weak vampire who is now shielding him with their frail body.

At the door is a man he's only seen in his imagination—the vampire who turned Wilbur and him. He has a white porcelain mask with two small beady eyes and a broad smile—the horrifyingly happy mask contrasts the dark demeanour of the man in front of him. He is tall, maybe a few inches shorter than Wilbur, and he has dirty blond—almost brown—hair. He's wearing a green hoodie and black pants that almost make him appear like an average human.

He's not human, however, and Tommy knows this very well.

He steps in, anger radiating off of him that makes Tommy shiver. Haphazardly he sends emotions down the bond, wishing he could tell Wilbur where he is—fear-terror-scared. He gets confusion-paranoid-anxious back from three separate voices, one definitely being Wilbur. The others are probably Phil and Techno, though it's hard to tell from the muddied rush of emotions.

"Well, I see you've woken up." The vampire says as he steps in, the door slamming shut behind him loudly. The figure behind Tommy whimpers, and he realizes how weak their voice is, how they shake against him. They're a victim here, too, and Tommy attacked them—guilt-guilt-guilt. The man steps closer and continues, "Let me tell you how this is gonna go down."

Tommy, still having his instincts running wild under his skin, can't help but snap, "What do you want me with?" Despite his fear, Tommy stands strong.

The man laughs, and it's something cracked, broken and manic. "I want nothing to do with you! I only want Techno for what he's done to me!"

Tommy blinks in confusion, feeling his instincts scream protectively at the pure venom this vampire uses regarding his coven-mate. Tommy can't help the growl of protectiveness rip its way out of his throat, "Stay away from my coven-mate!!" He screams, clawed fingers flexing around the shaky vampire beside him. They whimper under Tommy's claws, and Tommy lets go.

The man laughs again and comes up close, reaching out and abruptly grabbing Tommy under his chin. His fingers, claws, dig in, and Tommy stifles a whimper. He won't show weakness in front of this powerful vampire. That's how he dies—again... He has to be strong, even if he is horribly frightening. "No, I don't listen to weaklings like you. He's hurt me, so he deserves to pay."

Tommy glares and then spits at the masked man. The vampire beside him gasps, and the masked man grumbles. He pushes Tommy back, making his head hit the wall. His head throbs with pain, and his eyes snap shut. All he can feel is pain-pain-pain as his vision swims a bit before straightening out. The man speaks again as he wipes his face with his jacket's sleeve, "Brat."

The man stands and pulls Tommy up the collar of his shirt. The weaker vampire protests, but all Tommy can feel is pain. He doesn't need to breathe, but it still feels like it, and his body screams when the masked man wraps his hand around his neck and squeezes. He desperately scratches at the man's arm, thrashing and gasping for air he really doesn't need.

The man speaks again, "Don't you dare do that again. I could so easily kill you. You're lucky I'm waiting for your precious coven-mate to find you, 'cause if not..." He doesn't continue, but the threat is very much there. He's still a fledgling, meaning he's weaker—easier to kill. It'd be so easy, and it's why fledglings must be protected at all costs—that's what Phil told Tommy once, at least.

He throws Tommy to the ground, but luckily the weaker vampire catches his head before it hits the floor. He drags Tommy back to his side and hisses weakly as the man backs up. "Shut up, brat. I'm leaving, and if you aren't quiet, I'll come back and make sure you are."

With that, he leaves. Once the door slams behind him, all the adrenaline rushes out of Tommy's body, and all he can feel is the distant throbbing of his head and back from being thrown into the wall and floor. He slumps in the weak vampire's arms, breathing heavily even if he doesn't have to. The other brushes a hand through his hair and says, "Woah... You really got spunk, huh?"

Realizing he's in a stranger's arms, Tommy jumps and rips himself away. He stares at the other, of which he can actually see now. This vampire has deep crimson eyes, a purple hoodie, ripped—and bloody—light blue jeans and an alien-like headband. He looks to be about Tommy's age, however, in human years at least. He smiles sadly at Tommy. He's weaker than the other vampire, the masked man who was here a minute ago, and it seems like he's a prisoner here too.

"Who are you...?" Tommy asks softly, bending his knees and wrapping his arms around his legs.

"I'm Purpled, and that was Dream... He's, uh, my coven-mate, technically..." He—Purpled—says hesitantly.

Tommy tilts his head, "What? Then why're you down here? In this—this prison cell...?"

Purpled sighs, "He was jealous of me. My brother, Punz, is his sire. I was Punz's first sired, and Dream was his second. I was apparently 'more loved', so he kidnapped me... Now I'm here, been here for years..."

Tommy blinks, "How... How old are you?"

Purpled shrugs, "In human years? Eleven. In vampire years? I don't know, maybe ninety-something?"

"Oh..."

Purpled smiles sadly. "I'm sorry. I wish I could get us out of here. I'm too weak... He hardly feeds me enough—on purpose, of course. He just drops a dead human in here every few months, and it's all I get..."

Tommy feels his stomach drop at that, "W-What...?"

Purpled nods slowly, "I-I don't have any other choice. I don't even know what he'll bring for you since you're probably a fledgling, yeah?"

Tommy scoots back, "H-How do you know that?"

Purpled sighs, "I'm not working with him! I can just smell it on you. I've never sired anyone, but you smell like a fledgling—if I had to guess..."

Tommy relaxes slightly and nods, "Oh... Wait, what will he bring me?"

Purpled grimaces, "I, uh, I'm not sure. He might not bring you anything because I'm a vampire, and technically you could survive if you drank my blood..."

Tommy's eyes widen, and he backs up, "No, no way. I—You're not my sire! I can't—I won't!" Tommy is hyper-ventilating now, and Purpled scoots closer.

"Hey, hey... Breath! C'mon, follow me—copy me!" Purpled says as he exaggerates his breathing—he wasn't even breathing a minute ago.

Tommy tries to copy him, but it all comes crashing down on him now. He's been kidnapped. He won't be near Wilbur for who knows how long, maybe forever. He won't get blood from his sire. He's been left alone with a weak, old vampire that's also his age at the same time. His coven is scared; he's scared. This is scary, and Tommy's afraid, far worse than he's ever been.

Tommy knows scary. He's been in terrifying homes with horrible people who made him afraid to come back from school every day. He's sat in principal offices for misbehaviour. He ran away from home with his brother while they had nothing but each other. He met Wilbur's only chance for a safe home, and he's lived through weeks of trying to adapt. This is unlike anything he's ever experienced in his whole life.

He wants Wilbur; he wants him here so badly. If only he and Wilbur had a complete bond, then maybe he could tell Wilbur more. Their bond isn't strong enough for Wilbur to follow it as he had with Phil. Tommy's a fledgling, and his soul is only halfway bonded with Wilbur's. Following their bond like Wilbur did with his and Phil's would be nearly impossible for Wilbur to do. Wilbur will never find him.

Purpled grabs his shoulders and keeps breathing, "C'mon, dude. Breathe with me. You can do it."

Tommy nods because what else can he do? He tries again, breathing in air he doesn't really need because of a panic attack that isn't really affecting his body like his body thinks it is. Eventually, he calms down enough to protest again, "You're not my sire. I won't."

Purpled stares at him sadly, "It's either me or someone else... Your sire isn't here..."

Tommy glares with determination, "Wilbur will come. He'll save me. I can last a week. I'll be fine. I'm not drinking from you. I won't."

Purpled looks away and says nothing else. It seems he doesn't believe Tommy, and Tommy doesn't believe himself, either. However, he has to pretend at least that he knows Wilbur will come and save him. He has to act like Wilbur is looking frantically for him right now because Wilbur loves him. Tommy knows that, at least. He'll come.

Wilbur will save him. 

Chapter Text

Wilbur immediately knows something is wrong the second he wakes up. It's not a bad day. He knows what those feel like—he's even had one recently, so he knows it's not that. However, he doesn't understand why he wakes up so panicked. He starts freaking out.

The first issue he sees is that Tommy isn't in bed, where he had been a mere twelve hours ago like he should be. That's not that weird because Tommy's gotten up before him a few times. However, it's the window that makes Wilbur second-guess himself. It's still open, plus it's open wider than it was last night.

Panicked, Wilbur gets up. His head is immediately alive with concern-concern-confusion, and it's not from Tommy. Wilbur is also confused, but as he exits his and Tommy's bedroom, he sees Phil. Phil looks at him with concern and confusion before he sees Wilbur—and then his face breaks out into understanding.

He starts to speak, but Wilbur beats him to it, "Phil, has Tommy woken up? Is he out here?" Wilbur is now in the living room, frantically looking around for Tommy.

Phil looks at him in confusion, still reeling from the knowledge of his and Wilbur's new bond. He shakes his head, "Uh, no, mate. He's not out here, I've been awake since six, and it's nine now... Was he not with you?"

Wilbur shakes his head, panic filling his mind and thus Phil's as well—again because of the new bond. "No, and the window was open more than it was last night!" Wilbur picks at the skin around his nails as he looks out the windows facing the backyard.

Phil stands up from the light green couch in the living room and gestures towards the door to the backyard as he says, "C'mon, let's go see if he's outside. Maybe he just wants to sit in the sun for a bit... Hopefully not too long, though." Phil laughs softly as he opens the door and ushers Wilbur through it.

Once they both get outside, it's relatively clear with one look that Tommy isn't out there. They still check, calling out his name just in case. Phil even checks the greenhouse near the garage but to no avail. Wilbur only panics harder as the minutes pass on without finding Tommy. He can't even feel Tommy's emotions through the bond, making him more anxious.

Phil and Wilbur go back inside. They check every room in the house, yelling Tommy's name. In the process, they wake up Technoblade. Techno finds Phil and Wilbur in the garage, searching inside the car. As Techno helps Phil and Wilbur search the house for Tommy, his voice joins the chorus of panic in Wilbur's head.

Wilbur is just starting to lose it when a third voice joins the choir in his head, and they all fall silent. It's Tommy, of course. Panic-panic-scared fills Wilbur, Techno and Phil's bond with Tommy. Phil steps closer to Wilbur, grabbing his hands and pulling his fledgling close. Techno looks around, almost protectively, while they wait.

Waiting for what? They aren't sure.

However, in a split second, Tommy's panic turns into terror. Wilbur can do nothing but listen to—and feel—the terrified-terrified-horrified Tommy most likely subconsciously shares down the bond. Wilbur wishes now that he and Tommy had a full bond; maybe then he'd be able to ask Tommy where he was or at least reassure him that it'll all be okay.

Wilbur looks up at Phil with concern. Phil only looks back with a twin expression. "Phil, what do we do? I-I can't follow our bond like I did with you. H-How do we find him?"

Phil sighs, and he sounds defeated already, "I—I don't know. Maybe—maybe he went to the neighbour's house? Techno and I—"

Wilbur immediately cuts him off, "You're not leaving me here to wait for him. He's somewhere out there, and he's scared. I can't just sit by and wait for him to return." Phil sighs and nods swiftly. He turns to Techno.

"Okay, how about I stay and see if he comes back while you and Wilbur can look around the neighbourhood?" Techno nods, and Wilbur copies him before following him to the door. Phil smiles at them as he follows, watching them get their shoes on.

"Be safe. I'll be here when you get back..." Phil says as Techno stands up, heavy boots all laced up and coat secured over his shoulders. Wilbur isn't far behind. Phil places a hand on Wilbur's shoulder as Techno opens the front door and smiles softly at him. "I'll text you if he returns, so keep your phones on."

Wilbur and Technoblade nod, and then they leave, shutting the door behind them as more and more fear, shock and terror fill the bond in all of their heads—leaving them to send back feelings of confusion, paranoia and anxiety.

They haven't even been to two of their neighbour's houses when more emotions flood the bond from Tommy's end. It starts off with anger and confusion. The anger is not unlike what Wilbur has seen from Tommy, but this anger certainly feels much more extensive than he's ever seen Tommy get. It's a furious type of anger, one that Wilbur has only felt in himself—when those threatened or hurt Tommy or when they spoke ill of him.

Wilbur isn't sure what to make of it. Techno doesn't, either. He's never seen Tommy too angry, just playfully angry. He looks at Wilbur with poorly veiled concern, and Wilbur doesn't know what to say. He says nothing as they walk to another house to ask if they've seen Tommy. However, the next wave of emotions makes them both stop.

Guilt floods the bond, quickly followed by pain-pain-pain mixed with panic, anxiety and fear. Then starkly, nothing. The bond goes horribly silent. It's unlike anything Wilbur's ever heard or felt from Tommy. It's as if Tommy—Wilbur growls before he realizes it as he turns to Technoblade with a mix of concern, panic and anger.

What is happening to his poor fledgling?

Techno doesn't look any better, and they both immediately turn back, headed straight back home. Phil greets them outside before they can even get to the door. Wilbur goes to speak, a fierce anger boiling up in him. However, something stops him. A soft dizzy-lightheaded-pain stops the three of them, and they sigh in slight relief.

Tommy is still in pain, but at least he hasn't passed out or worse. Wilbur and Techno still rush over to Phil and get ushered back inside. Phil calls the police and reports Tommy missing, and Wilbur starts to pace. He isn't sure what to do—what he can do really—but it seems like he isn't alone in his feelings of defeat. Tommy mirrors his emotions, albeit with more fear and sorrow.

After calling the police, Phil calls his friends and asks if Tommy is there. Of course, they all say no and that they'll keep an eye out for him. Some, Schlatt and Puffy, ask if they can do anything, but Phil isn't sure what they can do. Tommy is missing, and they have no leads as to where he could have possibly gone. It's nerve-wracking, waiting for a police officer to show up.

Wilbur's never liked the police because they never do anything, especially not for vampires. He doubts they'll do anything, but what else can he, Techno and Phil do? Not much, so it's better than sitting here and doing nothing while Tommy is wherever he is. While they wait, Tommy's emotions spike with more panic, fear and terror, and Wilbur paces the room faster.

By the time a police car pulls up, Tommy has stopped panicking and instead sends longing-determination-hope down the bond, and Wilbur smiles. His fledgling is so strong, being hopeful in a terrible situation like this. Wherever he is, Wilbur hopes he's okay and sends reassurances down the bond.

The last thing Wilbur hears from Tommy that isn't sorrow, panic or hope is sire-love-scared. Wilbur replies with fledgling-love-hope because he'll save Tommy, no matter what happens. No matter what it takes, Wilbur will save Tommy. Nothing could stand between him and his little brother—his fledgling.

Chapter Text

A week. It's almost been a week since Tommy was first kidnapped.

During these past five days, Tommy has been hit, punched and screamed at by Dream. He's too volatile, Dream told him—whatever that means, Tommy isn't sure—so he had to punish his bad behaviour. Tommy didn't care that Purpled always told him to stay calm when Dream visited them. Tommy wasn't going to show weakness. That's what'll get him killed. However, fighting back drains his already dwindling energy.

He can't help but feel weak, especially now. It's been a week without Wilbur's blood—his sire's blood—and Tommy is starting to feel the effects all too much. His energy has all but been drained, leaving only a little flame in its absence. His arms feel like lead. They are hard to lift above his waste at times. His legs shake, and he stumbles to the ground if he tries to get up too quickly. Walking is an arduous process. His head pounds with headaches at random, and in general, he just feels like shit.

He's going to die. He needs blood, specifically his sire's blood. However, he can drink it from other vampires' as well—apparently, any vampire can, regardless of age or bond. Tommy supposes it makes sense because without blood, vampires are weaker, and fledgelings like him die without it. However, he can't, under any circumstances, drink from anyone other than Wilbur. It just feels wrong, and Purpled isn't going to convince him otherwise. Even if Tommy is only getting worse by the day—by the minute, actually. He is getting weaker and weaker, slower and slower. Purpled can't stand it, and he makes sure Tommy knows this. 

"You need blood, Tommy. You won't last much longer, ya know..." He says as he moves closer to Tommy on the small bed the two had to share—it was the only one in their concrete prison of a room. Tommy quickly shuffles away, giving the other vampire a swift and indignant glare.

Purpled is nice, sure, but he is still a complete stranger. All Tommy knows is Purpled's age, small information about Purpled's backstory and his favourite colour—unsurprisingly, it's purple, but his second favourite was cyan, so at least he wasn't insane. Tommy also knows that Purpled is persistent and stubborn. He is also correct, but Tommy would never admit that out loud.

Tommy huffs, "Wil's gonna find me soon, any second now. I'll be fine. I don't need nor want your blood."

Purpled sighs, leaning closer and wrapping a hand around Tommy's upper arm. Tommy shakes and tears Purpled's arm off, a growl sounding off from the back of his throat. "Don't touch me!" Tommy exclaims, and Purpled holds his hands up in surrender and then sighs in defeat. "I don't want your blood. Stop demanding I drink from you!"

Purpled rolls his eyes and huffs. "You will once you realize this stupid fucking 'Wilbur' guy isn't coming to save you. I stopped hoping years ago when my brother never came for me, either. You should get on with it." Then he turns the other way as Tommy's undead blood boils. Tommy rumbles out a growl again and glares at the dirty blond. That's his sire Purpled is talking about—only Tommy can be rude to Wilbur, thank you very much! 

"He will! He's my sire, my brother! He'll find me! He's going to save me!!" Tommy exclaims again, louder now.

Purpled sighs, "That's what I thought about Punz too, but I've been down here for years. No one is coming for us. Don't you hear me?! Stop wishing for things that will never come true!!"

Tommy feels tears prick at his eyes, and he bites his bottom lip to stop himself from sobbing out a response. He turns away and starts to feel lightheaded from holding his tears in. He lets out a shaky sigh and pulls his legs up to his chest, snuggling in and willing himself to remain hopeful. It's all he has left. The only thing tethering him to reality is the hope that Wilbur will save him soon. If he gives up on that, he gives up on himself too.

"He will. Wilbur will save me... Don't say that he won't." He mumbles, sniffling softly.

Purpled softens and starts to speak, "Tommy—"

"He's coming to save me!" Tommy yells, and that's that.

They both fall silent.

It's officially been a week, and these are Tommy's final few hours.

Wilbur hasn't come to save him, and Tommy is dying. Tommy can practically feel his body rotting from the inside out, and it's a horrible, painful feeling. He is constantly weak, in pain and overwhelmed with instincts from his own mind and the minds of his coven—Tommy quickly realized that the other voices in his head were from Technoblade and Phil; it wasn't hard to understand after his initial panic.

It's a harsh reality, realizing that if he wants to live past midnight tonight, he'll have to drink blood from a vampire that isn't his sire. He'll have to drink blood from Purpled, the only other vampire he's seen this week other than Dream. He doesn't even know the side effects of a fledgling vampire drinking from someone other than their sire, but he does not want to find out. He is too scared of breaking his bond with Wilbur—and thus his coven as well. They are his family, his coven. He can't lose them.

Tommy is once again sitting with Purpled on the only bed in their cold, dark, concrete room. He only has a few hours left yet to live, he thinks—it's hard to tell time down here because of the lack of windows. He continues to refuse Purpled's attempts to convince him to drink his blood, driving the conversation between him and Tommy into an argument yet again. 

Only, this time, Tommy is weaker and unable to shuffle away from the dirty blond.

Purpled sighs for the tenth time since they first started fighting. "Tommy, I'm serious. You will die if you don't drink blood in the next few hours. Wilbur isn't coming, okay?! Give it up!"

Tommy groans in annoyance, "No! I can't just d-drink from you! I don't know what it'll do to me!! I don't want to—" Tommy cuts himself off and looks away in both embarrassment and fear. He's never liked admitting his fears or showing weakness like this, especially to someone like Purpled—a near stranger.

Purpled looks away, guilt chipping at his expression. "I know you're scared, but I'm sure nothing will happen to you! Just, please! I can't bear to see another dead person in this horrible prison, especially when I can actually save them this time around! Let me save you, please, Tommy! I'm literally begging you at this point!!"

Tommy whines with guilt. Still, he continues to look away stubbornly. Purpled sighs, a growl of anger mixing in at the end. Tommy whimpers when the older vampire moves closer. He is too weak to run, too weak even to shift away from the encroaching body, but he still tries. Purpled grabs his arms with one hand, and Tommy lets out a growl, trying to seem intimidating—it comes out more like a scared whine of a highly injured animal.

"I'm sorry, but I have to do this. I'm not letting you die here, not when I can save you. I hope you can forgive me someday. I'm doing this for your sake..." Purpled mumbles as he brings his free hand to his own mouth. 

Tommy squirms as much as he can as his breathing picks up, "No. No, no, no! Stop, let go of me!!"

In the back of his mind, he can feel Wilbur's concern and confusion poking through the bond—Techno and Phil's emotions aren't far behind. All Tommy can do is silently beg for help as Purpled bites into his own wrist. Tommy closes his eyes and sobs, tears suddenly pouring down his face as he stops himself from breathing so as not to smell the blood as Purpled pulls his fangs out. Tommy isn't very successful when fear drums through his weak veins, and he gasps in sob and sob. 

The smell of blood is thick, filling Tommy's senses before he can even stop sobbing to think properly. 

Tommy's instincts can't be controlled for long. He's just a baby vampire and one who's lived a week without the very thing keeping him alive. It's not a surprise when Tommy, upon inhaling more of the sweet—almost lavender-like—smell of Purpled's blood, latches onto the pleasant scent. Tommy can't stop himself from flinging forward and plunging his small fangs into the two holes in the older vampire's wrist.

Tommy closes his teary eyes and drinks as much as Purpled allows him to. Tommy's gotten used to the taste of Wilbur's blood, and he thought that was what all blood is supposed to taste like. So it's odd when Purpled's doesn't. Wilbur's blood is sweet and, for some reason, tastes of milk chocolate. Purpled's is somewhat bitter and lavender-like. It's not great, not by any means. However, it's blood, so Tommy drinks it nonetheless, and he can feel his body swell with relief.

Belatedly, Tommy realizes that Purpled is playing with his hair and whispering apologizes as Tommy drinks from the dirty blond's wrist. Tommy is slumped in Purpled's weak hold, and his tears have slowed to a stop when he feels something else, something in his head. There's a buzz of emotions, but most are angry ones. Fiery, sharp and all stemming from a wave of deep-seated possessiveness. Tommy doesn't understand it at all, but he doesn't have time to think about it either, as Purpled pulls his wrist away.

Before Tommy can say or do any, he is shifted in Purpled's hold, so the older is lying against the cold wall with Tommy's head resting against his chest. Eventually, a thin blanket is pulled over Tommy as the darkness of sleep lulls him in. Purpled whispers a soft, "Go to sleep, Tommy..." before running his hand through Tommy's blond locks, greasy from the lack of showering. Tommy can hardly argue because his body is humming a sudden onslaught of energy that is too much to handle right now.

Tommy can't stop the darkness from grabbing him and pulling him under as he nods slowly, too tired to mutter anything back before falling fast asleep.

When Tommy wakes up, his head is alive with the members of his coven angrily milling around.

He groans at their angered emotions, still half asleep, and tries to convey that as best as he can without words. A soft voice hums above him, and there's shifting under Tommy that has him waking up quicker. He dimly feels panic spike in his fuzzy, emotion-crazed mind as he pushes away from whatever he's lying against. He shakes his head and blinks several times to see the object he was just lying against.

No, not object. Person. The person he was lying against.

Purpled is lying against the wall, sleepily smiling down at him. He feels the panic from before growing before he suddenly remembers what happened last night. He pushes further away and stumbles off the bed, pointing an accusatory finger at the dirty blond on the bed. Purpled's smile drops, and he sits up, scrambling towards Tommy, "Wait, Tommy—"

Tommy jerks back, getting as far away as he can. His back hits the stone-cold wall of the room. He gasps at the sudden contact and then growls, "You—" His breathing gets frantic as anger boils under his skin. He's about to continue, to shout at Purpled, but something stops him suddenly.

An abrupt kind of panic shocks Tommy into stepping closer to Purpled unwillingly. He stops himself, arms wrapping around his torso as if to pull himself back to the wall. His instincts are alive with panic, fear and a desire to be close to the vampire who forced him to drink his blood just a few hours ago. The vampire that Tommy should be scared of. He isn't, and that is the most terrifying thing of all. 

Tommy looks at Purpled with confusion and fear, "What did you do to me?!"

Purpled seems to be holding himself back just as Tommy is, straining just as hard as the blond is. He looks confused and fearful as well. "I-I don't know! I didn't—This wasn't me— I don't understand!" Purpled rambles, and Tommy can't stop himself from stepping closer. This lowers the panic in his mind, and he continues until he's at the edge of the bed. Then he gasps at the realization.

"It's you. I have to be close to you..." Tommy whispers, voice full of confusion and relief. He shakes himself and glares, "Oh great, you've made me—what's the word... depent on you!"

Purpled cocks his head, "You mean dependent? Also, no, I haven't! I mean, maybe, but I didn't mean to!!"

Tommy rolls his eyes, "Yeah, yeah, whatever. Dependent. You made me dependent on you! That way, I'll need to drink blood from you—oh... What if it's a fledgling thing?"

Purpled shrugs, "I'm not sure. Why do you think that?"

"I'm not sure either. Did you drink blood from someone other than your sire while you were a fledgling?" Purpled shakes his head, "Well then, maybe that's why you don't understand it. Maybe I'm not meant to do that? That could be why it's made me dependent or whatever..."

Purpled hums in thought, "Huh, maybe... So you've become dependent on me because you're a fledgling? Let's test it again. I'll go to one side of the room, and you go to the other."

Purpled stands up, and Tommy does as he orders. As soon as they are apart, Tommy's instincts scream with panic. He closes his eyes, but that only makes it worse. His mind screams with food gone-older is missing-panic, and Tommy can't stop himself from running straight at Purpled as tears spring to his eyes. Purpled doesn't seem any better as he wraps his arms around Tommy and whispers sweet nothings to him. Purpled mumbles as he traps Tommy in. Tommy should be deathly afraid, but he isn't.

After they both calm down, Tommy pushes himself away from the dirty blond and wraps his arms around himself instead. They aren't far apart, but Tommy's instincts still whine at the lack of contact with his apparent food source. Tommy sighs and sits down, "I hate being a fledgling. How long is shit this gonna last?!" Purpled shrugs and walks back over to the bed, dragging Tommy with him unintentionally.

"I'm not sure. I didn't even know getting attached to anyone, but your sire and coven-mates was possible." Purpled says as he sits down and puts his head in his hands.

Tommy sits on the floor beside the bed and drops his head on the bed, facing the ceiling. Tommy sighs, and as he listens to the anger-anger-rage coming from his coven-mates, he understands and relates wholeheartedly. He's angry, too, mainly at Purpled for forcing him into this situation, but also at himself. He put himself in this whole mess, even if he did it unintentionally.

If he didn't leave the window open, maybe he wouldn't be here right now. Perhaps if he fought Purpled, they wouldn't be tied together by instincts. Maybe he wouldn't be here if Tommy never became friends and then brothers with Wilbur. Tommy is angry that throughout his life, he hasn't fought back against foster parents, against people like Dream or Purpled. He is desperate to save himself at this point, even if only a little bit. 

Sure, he's still hopeful that Wilbur will save him, but maybe he can help. Even if he only plays a small role, he wants to prove to himself and others that he can protect himself. He had to do that far before Wilbur invaded his life, declaring himself as Tommy's personal protector the second he saw one black eye from a bad foster parent. He may only be a kid, but he's always only had himself. He can manage again if need be.

He closes his eyes and sighs. He can hear Purpled lean against the bed, but he isn't really focusing on that. He just wants to go home. He doesn't want to depend on Purpled. He wants his brother, his sire, Wilbur. He wants his coven-mates, Phil and Techno. He wants to go home already. Why isn't anyone coming for him? It's been a week already. Where is his family? Where is his coven? Frustrated, scared, tears swell up in Tommy's eyes.

It's been a week already. Find me...

Chapter Text

Wilbur can't stop pacing.

It's been a week. There is still nothing, no leads on who took Tommy. It's not a problem with the police,—no, they have been looking and integrating as many people as they can who may know something, anything—the problem is in the facts of the case. Everything makes it difficult to find a single trace of evidence on Tommy's kidnapper.

There were no fingerprints on the window Wilbur is almost 100% sure Tommy was taken through—the only fingerprints were from Tommy himself. No hair follicles, skin cells, sweat or blood either. It was as if no one had come in and out of the window. The only evidence that someone left with Tommy out the window was the missing window screen and blood on the outside of the windowsill that was Tommy's.

From there, it was quickly turning into a cold case. The police had no witnesses, no available victims and no hints or evidence of a perpetrator. The police questioned almost every member of the neighbourhood while searching for leads. Wilbur is honestly surprised that the police were even taking the case seriously. Though, it probably isn't because Tommy is a kid.

Since he's a fledgling vampire, Tommy can go feral without blood. They can get blood crazy, and without a sire nearby, they search for blood—any blood. Which meant that innocents—more specifically, humans—could get hurt if Tommy went feral. So, maybe it isn't as great as Wilbur could've hoped for, but at least he's a top priority in the police's eyes.

Wilbur, Phil, Technoblade and Skeppy are waiting outside another integration room. This time, they are waiting on the police and Badboyhalo. Bad thought he might know someone that fit Wilbur's description of the vampire who turned him and Tommy. Bad said his name was Dream, and they were great friends until he suddenly cut almost everyone off aside from his three best friends. This was right around the time of Wilbur's unwilling turning.

Wilbur can't stop pacing, wondering if this will be just another dead end.

It's been a week. He has felt so much from Tommy's end of the bond. When Tommy was dying, he felt the pain and weakness from it. He even felt when Tommy's panic turned into something horrible, a dependency on some other vampire—a vampire that isn't him and it felt like a stab in the heart with a silver stake. It still makes his blood boil, but there is nothing he can do about it now.

All he can do is wait, and he hates it.

Phil reaches for Wilbur's hand to soothe the other's anxiety. Before Phil could, Wilbur whips his hand away with a sharp hiss. Phil gasps and pulls away, something like pity in his eyes mixed with guilt and sorrow. Technoblade bares his teeth at the hissing sound, and Wilbur growls, then he looks away. Wilbur can't suppress the whine that escapes him, sounding horribly guilty.

Technoblade is older, and he's coven, and so is Phil, and he'd just hissed and growled at them. He can't even stop his instincts as he mutters an apology, "I—I'm sorry, I don't— I can't help it— I didn't mean to—" He sobs as he fumbles over what to say.

Phil immediately stands and makes a low crooning noise, arms open wide with sympathy as he reassures, "It's okay, it's okay! Wil, you're okay. C'mere..." Wilbur stumbles into his arms with a heavy sob. The stress of the situation and his instincts crash into him like a flood tearing open a concrete dam. "It'll be okay. We'll get him back. I promise... It's gonna be okay..."

Technoblade rises, too, quickly joining the two and engulfing Wilbur in a hug. "We'll find him. It's okay..." Techno says, tone strained but calm. Wilbur can tell that Technoblade is angry under that calm facade and knows that anger isn't directed at him. Wilbur just nods slowly as the three rock back and forth ever so slightly.

Their moment is suddenly cut short by the integration room door flying open. Wilbur, Technoblade and Phil pull away from each other, ready for whatever the detective running Tommy's case will say. The detective turns, eyes firey with determination and smiles—a pang of empathy flooding their eyes at the sight of the three vampires before her.

"We have solid proof that this Dream dude knows something about your coven—we're going to investigate it further, and we're getting a warrant to search his house." The detective turns back to Bad, who is now behind her, saying, "Thank you for your help. We'll get back to you as soon as possible."

"Hold tight." She adds as she walks away, ushering a group of police together.

Dream's been in this integration room for hours.

He shouldn't be here. He's too close to winning, to getting what he wants. Yet instead, he's being investigated by some detective whose name he didn't even really remember—Angela? Lopez? Whatever he doesn't care. It doesn't matter. They aren't gonna crack him. They have nothing on him.

Nothing but a slight connection to Technoblade. If they search his house the right way, however, they might find the actual evidence. Not that he'd let them know any of that. He kept to the story that he had made up before this integration. He knew Technoblade in passing, but that was it. He knew his coven, but not enough to be a suspect in any crime against them. He even listed the members of Techno's coven wrong just to solidify his innocence.

They'll never find out anyways. The police don't care about vampire cases as much as human ones. Sure, things are getting better, but even such a vampire-friendly town has its biases. They'll release him soon and end their search of his house, and then he'll be free. Then he will move the two in his basement because this was too close for comfort. Maybe he'll just take Tommy, though. He is more important anyways.

Lopez—or whatever her name is—leaned in with a critical eye. She is smart. He'll give her that. She knows something is wrong, but she doesn't have the proof right now. She'll never get it anyways. Dream smiles, something dark hidden behind his patient smile, "Are we done then? Can I leave, ma'am?"

Her jaw hardens at his words, but she sighs and leans back. "Yeah, but if I find out you had something to do with this, I won't hesitate to bring you back for even longer. And you won't be in this room again; you'll be in a jail cell." Dream's eye twitches at that, and his smile widens.

"Of course... That's your job, after all, but I assure you. That isn't gonna happen." He's a bit cocky, but can you blame him. She stands and guides him to the door. Just outside, Phil, Wilbur and, worse of all, Technoblade stand. They are waiting for him to come out in handcuffs, and he can see the moment their hearts are broken. He almost laughs, but he's too intelligent for that.

As he passes them, he smiles wider and says, "I hope ya find him. Whoever did this, I mean..." Technoblade's stoic face hardens at that, Phil moves closer to Wilbur and Wilbur—well, his reaction is priceless, and it almost makes all of this worth it. He glares, eyes full of hatred, anger and a burning desire to attack. Dream smiles wider as he forces his eyes away.

That's gonna be fun to tell Tommy about when he goes to move him—motivation, perhaps. Not that he'll get anything else where he's going, Dream will ensure that.

Chapter Text

When Tommy wakes up, something feels off instantly.

Nothing is wrong, at least not that he can see. Purpled is right beside him, the room door is still shut and locked, and there are no loud footsteps from the rickety, old floorboards of the staircase outside the room. However, something doesn't feel right. There's a lingering feeling of uneasiness and fear. The feeling hasn't gone away even five hours after Tommy woke up—give or take, time is impossible to know from down here.

Dream hasn't shown up yet, and it's stupidly quiet. Sure, it's typically silent most days, but this is a different kind of it. There is an eerie nature to the pure silence around him, and Purpled isn't even making any noise either. Purpled can sense the strange stillness, too, and he doesn't like it either. A horrible feeling in both of their guts says that something is happening soon, that something is going to go horribly wrong.

Minutes pass, or hours maybe, and still nothing. Tommy and Purpled can't hear anything but each other and the distant thoughts of their covenmates. Tommy can tell that Wilbur, Technoblade and Phil are in high distress. Anger, fear, and pure unadulterated hatred emanate from Tommy's covenmates—especially from Wilbur. Purpled's coven bond is in stark contrast to Tommy's, happy, peaceful and calm. There are hints of longing and sadness, but Purpled is used to that coming from his sire—Punz.

Then, of course, there is Dream's end of the bond. His feelings are always awful to hear. Purpled can't hear the man's thoughts. The two haven't shared blood yet—not that Purpled would ever want to at this point—so Purpled can only hear his emotions. It's probably for the best, Purpled thinks. He'd never want to hear that man's demented thoughts. It is still horrible to listen to his desire, passion and ego.

Tommy is glad he isn't covenmates with the man, from what little knowledge he's gotten from Purpled about him. Tommy is surprised that Purpled's other coven members don't question Dream more if what Purpled says is true. He likes to believe that Dream brainwashed them, but he knows they were probably just being manipulated. It wasn't as cool as the idea of mind control, and Tommy needed cool things to occupy his mind.

A loud slamming door from upstairs brings Tommy back to the present, and he jumps. Purpled jolts, too, subconsciously pulling Tommy closer as if trying to protect him. It's nice, even if Tommy hates it. He is strong enough to defend himself, but it's also nice to have someone to lean on throughout all of this. He doesn't want this to go away. He needs Purpled, not just because of his blood at this point, and he knows Purpled needs him too. They have a mutual understanding of each other.

After a moment, familiar, heavy footsteps stomp down the old wooden stairs. At this, Purpled turns his body as if shielding Tommy from the door a tiny bit, which Tommy is grateful for. The door slams open, and the two squint at the bright light emitting from a light outside the door. Dream stands there, half seething, half egotistical—at least that's what Tommy assumes is behind his stupid smiley-faced mask because all he can see is his mouth which is slightly upturned at the corners.

"Tommy, up. I'm moving you somewhere else." He barks, snapping his fingers as if Tommy is a misbehaving dog who won't return to its owner. 

Tommy blinks and glares with confusion. "What?! Why?!" Tommy says as he hides as much as he can behind Purpled.

"You can't take him away. He's gonna die without blood! You can't do this!" Purpled screams as he covers as much of Tommy as possible, grabbing his wrists with a grip that almost hurts. Tommy's jaw clenches slightly as he continues to glare at Dream.

Dream tilts his head down, and his demeanour gets darker as if he's glaring under his mask. "I can and I will. His stupid family has gotten too close to finding my secrets. So, I'm moving him." He states as he turns to Tommy, "Up."

Tommy glares, "No! Fuck you! I'm not going anywhere with you!!"

Dream sighs, a growl rumbling out from the back of his throat as he steps in, shutting the door behind him. He steps towards the bed the two are sitting atop and demands, "I said get up. I won't hesitate to use force. Stand up, Tommy."

Tommy steals his jaw shuts stubbornly because there's no way he's getting up willingly. Purpled growls a warning when Dream gets closer, and Dream laughs at the too-soft attempt at intimidation. Purpled holds strong as he barks, "He's not going anywhere. He needs me to keep him alive. He'll die without blood, and I know you don't want him dead. Otherwise, you would've killed him sooner."

Hearing that makes Tommy fold in on himself a bit. It's true, but it's still terrifying to hear. If he isn't valuable for whatever plan Dream has, he'll be killed. Dream doesn't care about him, maybe he doesn't care about anyone, and he'll do whatever to fulfil his goals. Tommy's gaze falters slightly as Dream confirms what Purpled says by looking away and scoffing—sounding scorned as if he's been caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

Dream turns back quickly and chuckles, "You have no idea what I want. Besides, it's not like you can do anything about it. You're beyond weak, starving and frail. I can easily overpower both of you, but I definitely overpower you, Purpled. Why don't you just make this easier by giving it up, handing him over, and no one will get hurt." It isn't a question. It's a demand.

Yet Purpled doesn't back down. Instead, he growls again, "No, fuck off!"

Dream sighs, disappointed, and steps closer until he's close enough to grab Tommy and rip him away from the frail vampire. He reaches over, but Purpled bites his hand before he can fully wrap his arm around the blond's shoulder. Dream hisses in pain and immediately reacts by slapping Purpled with the back side of the hand Purpled has bitten. Dream then grabs Purpled by the shoulders and throws him to the floor. There is a sickening crack that resounds around the room.

Tommy gasps and screams, "Purpled!" Then he tries to scramble towards the older vampire, but Dream grabs him before he can get too close. Tommy lashes out against the hands that dig into his shoulders and growls, a whimper mixing in with the deep rumble in his throat. Dream loses his grip, and Tommy bolts, running as far as he can to escape the other. He hits the concrete wall, and Dream has already gotten up and is standing in front of him, backing Tommy into the corner of the room.

Purpled hasn't moved or made any sound since he was thrown, and Tommy can't see him to ensure he is okay. He can't die from cracking his skull open, being a vampire and all, but it is still enough to knock him out cold and hurt him. If Purpled is unconscious, then there's nothing stopping Dream from taking him far, far away. Tommy and his instincts are protesting the distance between his friend and food source as much as they can. 

Backed against the corner of the room, Tommy moves before Dream can reach out to grab him and scratches Dream as hard as he can. His newly sharpened claws catch on the mask Dream is where making a deep cut on it—Tommy thought it would be harder to break. Then he does it again, getting skin from where Dream's mask has been knocked over, exposing a part of his face. There's blood and scraps of skin under Tommy's nails now. He tries to scratch Dream again, but his wrist is caught before he makes contact. 

He yelps as claws dig into his wrist. His other arm is grabbed and secured in place by Dream's hands. Tommy screams again, squirming in the hold. Suddenly, his body is thrown back against the wall. Dream holds his hands with one of his own and slams Tommy's head into the hard, concrete wall behind him. Immediately, pain surges from the back of Tommy's head, and he chokes out a scream. In shock, his struggle dies down, and he falls to his knees, only being held up by the grip on his wrists. 

Everything starts to blur, and black dots dance across his face. Tommy struggles to stay awake, to keep his dizzy, pained body to stand or struggle or do anything other than pass out. It is far too hard to keep his eyes awake as the black dots get larger, and everything hurts too much to stomach. Then, before he knows it, Tommy passes out with Dream's scratched-up face as the last thing he sees before the darkness communes his vision.

When Punz gets home, everything seems normal. He turns his car off, grabs his keys and sighs softly. Then he gets out of the car and smiles at seeing Dream's car in the driveway. He slams the car door closed and locks the car as he turns to face his house. Everything is normal, that is, until he is about to open the front door. Suddenly, a scream rings out from inside the house—or maybe from nearby, he isn't sure which. He immediately asks through the bond if his covenmates are home or hurt. He knows that one of his covenmates won't answer, which momentarily breaks his heart.

None of his covenmates answer but Dream. I'm home; why?

Punz answers back, I'm home, and I thought I heard someone scream?

Confusion-panic-panic comes from Dream before he says, It's probably from the neighbours. You should go check it out. Maybe something's wrong..?

Punz hums and nods to himself before agreeing. Then he walks over to the next-door neighbour's house. He checks with a few of his neighbours before returning home, humming with confusion. He isn't sure who was screaming. None of the neighbours were yelling or even raising their voices, so it must have come from Punz's home. Maybe Dream has found something since he is probably checking the house. Though, that begs to ask who's in their home if so. 

When he returns home, Dream's black car is suddenly missing from the driveway. "Huh..." Punz says aloud as he makes his way to the front door again, waiting a moment before opening it. He asks if Dream is still home, and when he gets nothing but a closed-off bond, he bolts into the house. His mind is alive with panic, fearing the worst possible thing. If someone was in his place, what if they were hurting Dream?

Nothing seems off at first. Punz frantically checks every room. The living room, the kitchen, his bedroom, Dream's bedroom and even Sapnap and George's rooms. However, Dream is nowhere to be seen. All the while, Punz is screaming Dream's name. He searches the house again, even going to check in the backyard, and he almost gives up. Then he suddenly sees that one of the bookshelves in the living room is out of place. 

The bookshelf is tall, enough to hide a door or window behind and full of useless books. Punz wonders why it is out of place because he certainly doesn't remember moving it. Punz walks up to it, inspecting it closely. Suddenly, from behind the bookshelf, he sees what looks to be a door frame. "What the...?" He says as he stares at it. He grabs and moves the bookshelf out of the way as quickly as possible. He gasps softly at what he sees. There's a door behind it, an old-looking, white door. It's the same colour paint as the wall, and Punz is shocked he hasn't seen it until now. 

Punz decides it wouldn't hurt to open it—just to make sure Dream isn't down there. 

Besides, Punz is curious. It's a secret door. Of course, he's interested. 

Cutting off his side of the bond with Dream, he carefully grabs the old, golden door handle and turns it open. It creaks open ominously, and Punz sees it leading to a set of ancient wooden stairs. The stairs go down into what seems to be a basement. Punz wonders how he never knew about the house having a basement, but then again, Dream found the place and did almost all the paperwork himself. If he didn't know about the cellar, it must be because of that.

Sure, Punz's name is on the place, and he owns and pays for most of it—aside from what his covenmates give him monthly for their continued stay. However, he was swamped trying to find his missing little brother, Purpled and work at the time of buying the place. Dream had completed most of the paperwork and tours and moving for Punz, along with help from Sapnap and George. So then, why didn't he tell Punz about their secret basement? 

Maybe Dream wanted it all to himself; Punz would have to talk to him about it later.

For now, Punz walks down the rickety stairs and grimaces at their obnoxious creaking noise. He can't help but feel uneasy because it is not only physically colder down here but also brings a chill that he can't describe. Some horrible feeling deep inside his gut that almost has him turning around and running for the hills. There's also the fact that it smells awful down here, like a rotting corpse or old, moldy trash. 

At the bottom of the stairs are a single metal door and a flimsy light on the ceiling in front of it. Punz looks around for anything else, but he stops suddenly when he looks down. Droplets of dark red blood are on the concrete floor below him. His eyes widen in fear and concern as he snaps his gaze to the prison-like metal door in front of him. He lets out a shaky sigh, wraps his hand around the door handle, and closes his eyes. 

Quickly, he opens the door and his eyes. Once his eyes adjust to the pure darkness in the cold, concrete room, he feels sick to his stomach. It's a mess of blood, and there's nothing but a hard, depressing-looking bed. As Punz surveys the room, he sees a figure on the ground not too far away from the bed. On the floor, not even five feet away from him, is a young child, bleeding from the top of their head. 

Punz gasps as he steps inside, checking for the intruder or feral animal that could've done this. The child could've been here for too long; the blood in the room smells fresh. Once he ensures the space is empty apart from the bed and the child, Punz rushes in. The child looks oddly familiar as Punz kneels before them and shakes their limp body. They have dirty blond hair, a purple hoodie and a purple alien-like headband. He pushes the child onto their back and gasps. 

Shock, confusion and a brief sense of relief which is immediately overridden by concern fill Punz's mind as he brushes a few strands of dirty blond hair away off the boy's face. Blood is slowly pooling from a wound on the boy's head that has stuck to a few locks of hair and the headband he is wearing—which is now crooked. Tears spring to Punz's eyes as he recognizes the young boy's unconscious, bloody, bruised face.

"P-Purpled?!"

Chapter Text

Punz is moving faster than he ever has in his whole life. Of course, Punz has been a vampire for a while—almost a hundred years, by now—but even with his altered speed, he has never run this fast in his life. He's definitely had to run a lot in the past to get away from bad situations quickly, followed by humans and their weapons—ones that could actually hurt him.

He is currently running to the emergency room of the hospital he just drove to after finding his long-lost brother in his basement. After picking Purpled up and running to the car, he drove to the parking lot of the closest hospital to his home. He parked horribly and ran to the emergency room just ahead of his car. He just has to get Purpled inside so they can check him out.

He runs as fast as his vampiric speed can take him, rushing into the emergency room lobby and yelling for help. Receptionists and a few nearby nurses rush to him upon seeing the bleeding eleven-year-old in his arms. They run him and Punz to a hospital bed and lie the younger one down. Nurses immediately start to assess the wound and clean up blood around the dirty blond's face and head.

Punz stands by the bed, unsure what to do as the shock of the whole situation hits him like a pile of rocks, tears suddenly slipping down his face. Someone, a nurse maybe, ushers him away, dragging his shock-still body back to the lobby and sitting him down. Security comes to secure Punz in the lobby, and Punz knows it's mainly because he's a vampire—it's probably procedure as well. He wasn't acting out or trying to interfere with the nurses.

However, people are still afraid of vampires. Humans still feel that Punz's kind is incapable of complex thought or control. They are scared of getting bitten, drained of blood or turned. Punz understands. He doesn't have the best track record with blood, control and being around humans in general. It still hurts, but Punz can hardly care about anything other than his brother's safety right now.

He endures the security guard's company as he sits idly by, waiting until his brother is stable and he's cleared to see him again. While he waits, he thinks about the basement, Dream leaving and Purpled, who has previously gone missing. Why was that room in Punz's house, and why did Dream not tell him about it? Why was Purpled trapped, and how long was he down there? How is he still alive? And most of all, why has Dream cut off his side of the bond? And why is he still refusing to say anything?

Punz doesn't think he wants the answer to those questions. He couldn't live with himself if Dream had anything to do with Purpled's disappearance because then he'd have to come to terms with the fact that his best friend of all time had been lying to him for the last three years of their infinite lives. Dream is coven, and he's Punz's best friend. Punz doesn't want to see the betrayal right in front of him. So he doesn't.

"Hey?" Punz jumps as the security guard taps his shoulder. He looks up, perhaps too quickly, and watches the man back up a half-step. "Nurses told me he's stable..."

Punz blinks and gasps, "Can I see him?"

The security guard looks away sheepishly, "Uh, that depends on what happened to bring you two here. From what I heard, he suffered a severe head injury. I have to ask, what happened before you got here?"

Punz resists the urge to glare. He knows that the guy is only doing his job, but it's still ridiculous to him that anyone could ever think he was the cause of any injury Purpled got. It's enraging to think that someone could think he was the cause of that head injury. However, Punz brought Purpled here, bleeding and unconscious, and Punz is a vampire. Purpled looks human at first glance. He knows how this looks to a human, to anyone, really. He sighs softly and nods.

"I'm his brother. He's been missing for three years, and I just found him. I know what it looks like, and this probably won't help my case either, but I just found him minutes ago in a secret room in my home that I had no idea about. He was on the floor like that. I came here as soon as I found him. Can I please see him?"

Nodding mutely with a somewhat guilty expression, the man gestures for Punz to get up and walks him back to the room Purpled is in. The rooms pass by, filled with sick and injured people. Some rooms have caution signs on the glass doors. Punz realizes, as he walks with the security guard, that the nurses must have moved Purpled to a room near the back because it takes a lot longer to walk to him than before.

Once they're close enough, Punz rushes to Purpled's side, and luckily the security guard doesn't scold him. Purpled is unconscious, and his eyes are now closed in a somewhat peaceful sleep. He is hooked up to a few machines, and screens to the left of him monitor his vitals—not his heart, though. There's an IV needle in his left arm and bruises all over the visible parts of him; red, slightly faded scars are bright against his pale skin.

It's a horrible sight to see. Seeing his brother hooked up to machines in a hospital bed is every older brother's worst nightmare. Punz obviously knows it's nothing serious. Purpled is a vampire, and he wasn't stabbed or injured with any silver, and even though he was starved of blood, he had enough to survive on. However, it still makes Punz's heart break in two.

He grabs one of the boy's limp hands as tears suddenly pour from his eyes. The security guard is still nearby, and he shifts awkwardly before coughing and saying, "Police will probably ask for a statement of the event since you said he was missing. But we'll wait until he's awake. I'll check by later..."

Punz nods as he drags a chair to one side of the bed and gazes down at the white porcelain floor. The man sighs, "I know this probably means nothing to you, but if the police question you, I will gladly give them a recount of what you told me. As long as you're being truthful, that is. They'll probably talk to me anyways..."

Punz smiles, "I've been looking for him for years. I never thought he could've been right under my nose, literally, for all these years... And for what it's worth, I know you're just doing your job. I know what it looks like, but I'm being one hundred percent honest here..."

The guard nods and gives a small smile, "I'll leave ya to it then. I'll be out here when he wakes up..." Punz nods minutely as the taller man exits the room, sitting in a chair just outside. Punz sighs softly and shifts his gaze back towards the unconscious boy in front of him. Punz rubs his thumb against the back of Purpled's hand as he looks down at the ground again.

"Please wake up soon, kid..."

Purpled cracks an eye open while Punz's eyes are closed. Punz doesn't see when the dirty blond glances around, confused, before shifting and groaning in pain. At the noise, Punz's head flips up. His dark red eyes flash with relief as they meet Purpled's red ones. Purpled just stares back in shock, confusion and relief, a shocked smile spreading across his face.

"Punz?! I—" He says as he opens and closes his mouth. Suddenly his eyes widen, fear consuming them, and his smile falls. Purpled sits up with a jolt, scans the room, and gasps, "Wait, where—?!"

Concern-concern-panic runs through the bond between the two brothers as the younger one frantically inspects the hospital room, finding nothing but medical equipment and Punz. However, before Punz can say anything, Purpled exclaims, "Where's Tommy!?"

Punz jolts, confusion marking his features as Purpled frantically looks around. If he were still human, Punz thinks that his heart would be beating rapidly and his breath would be quickened. Punz stands from his seat and quickly secures Purpled, holding his arm and ignoring how he flinches violently, "What? Tommy? As in Phil's kid?"

"I-I don't know?! He—He was just with me?! How long was I out for? He—" Purpled rants, his voice filled with panic and fear.

Punz can feel that fear too. It's something he had to feel a lot when Purpled was missing. There was nothing he could do about it. However, seeing his little brother panic is something completely different. He hasn't seen Purpled so confused, panicked and frantic since his turning, and Punz doesn't want to think about that. It's already so much just to see his brother again.

"He was down there? With you? In that—In that room?!" Punz says as his gaze snaps to the glass door of the hospital room. "Why were you even down there? Who—"

"Dream." Purpled snaps, confirming all of Punz's fears.

Punz stops, blinking slowly and mouth opening in shock. His blood runs cold in his veins. He doesn't even get a moment to process what Purpled has just said before he's speaking again while trying to get out of the sterile, white hospital bed. "Dream did this, and he took Tommy away!! He's just a fledgling!! He will die in a week if I don't find him!!"

At that, Punz snaps out of his trance and pushes the younger bed onto the bed, "No, no! You're not gonna be doing anything. A police officer is coming to take a statement of what happened. They'll find him. You are not going after him!"

Purpled's eyes widen in protective anger as he squirms in Punz's arms, but he is too weak to move it off. "What?! No! I need him!! He was my only friend down there!! I need to save him!! I need him!!" He snaps, teeth clicking together as he speaks.

"I need you!" Punz cries, and Purpled stops, blinking softly as the anger slowly fades away. "Please, Purpled... I just got you back. You've been missing for three years!! I— I can't lose you again, especially if you are going after Dream. I brought him into this mess, and I will get him out. Forcefully if I have to, and I'll save Tommy too... Dream took you, right?"

The younger nods slowly, and Punz continues, "He needs to pay then, and I'll do whatever I can to make sure that happens. If he took another kid, we will find a way to save him too. I can't let another brother go through what I did while you were missing, but I also can't lose you again in the process. Please, don't leave me after I've just got you back... I couldn't handle it again..."

Purpled sighs and looks away, defeated, as he stops trying to get away from Punz. He makes a pitiful noise and softly says, "But... But you don't even know where he took Tommy. Even I don't know..."

Punz chuckles, something dark pooling in the pit of his undead heart for the first time in years. He smiles bitterly as he glances towards the door again, where the security guard is seated—or, well, where he was sitting a second ago. The man has stood up, and he's standing at the door now, probably because he heard Purpled and Punz arguing about—though Punz is sure the whole hospital heard at this point.

"Ya know what, I think I might know a place..."