Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

"Stand up straight. You look like an idiot. Fix your posture or you'll never make it as a ballet dancer." Their teacher demanded. It was something they'd heard many, many times. 

"Yes, D- sir." The 16 year old replied, feeling ready to collapse as he held into his twin brother for support. The things he would trade for a moment of rest. Had he not done enough? 

A foolish question. Nothing was ever enough for him. 

Wilbur and Techno were twins, all they had was each other. Their father, and ballet teacher was a cruel, nasty man with no regard for their health or happiness. They either did everything perfectly or faced the consequences. Those consequences being bruises. 

"From the top, don't fuck up." Wilbur and Techno took deep, shaky breaths as they prepared for their next routine. It was becoming harder and harder to do well. They chalked it down to simply being failures, that's what their father said. In reality, they were just hurt and exhausted. At least there were tournaments coming up, they were always hit less hard then. Wilbur gave Techno a shaky nod as they began to dance, weaving in and out of each other like string. Anyone watching would have been mesmerized, but their father only scowled. Wilbur caught a glimpse of his father's glare, and his concentration faltered and his foot slipped, knocking them both onto the floor. Wilbur yelped in pain, clutching his twisted ankle. Techno stood in front of his twin, knowing what was coming. 

"That was my fault. That wasn't Wilbur, that was my fault." Techno was practically begging, trying to hide the tremble in his voice. Their father's frown only deepened. Techno knew there was no point in trying to reason with him, but he still had to. He needed to try. 

"I have eyes, Techno. I saw Wilbur slip. Maybe if he was concentrating harder, if he wasn't staying up late playing that stupid fucking guitar, this wouldn't have happened?" Wilbur’s face became even more pale, if that was even possible. He was caught out. 

"You know what happens when you mess up, don't you buddy?" Their father's voice had raised into a terrifyingly sweet tone. Wilbur flinched at the nickname. His father flicked his finger towards the door, Wilbur followed, his eyes welling with tears. Techno stood up to follow, Wilbur shook his head. "Don't get yourself hurt too." He mouthed to his twin. Techno bit his lip. 

"Wilbur-" Techno began, but Wilbur shook his head. The pained look he was giving Techno made him stop talking immediately. Wilbur was going to need him, and he was no good injured. 

"Schlatt, you're dismissed." His father said as they walked out the door. The older teen opened his mouth to protest, being shut up by a murderous glare. "You are dismissed." He repeated, a more menacing edge to his voice. 

Schlatt, a trainee teacher their father had 'graciously' offered to tutor, had always been kind to Wilbur and Techno. He always asked if they were okay, they said yes, because that's what their father told the twins to say. They were okay, right? Bad dancers get hit, that's how it works. 

Right?

The next day, Schlatt was asked to run their next lesson while their father left to run some errands. He smiled kindly at Wilbur, who was now sporting an arm and ankle brace. Techno was holding his hand with a white knuckle grip. He didn't dare let go. 

"Are you okay to dance today, Wilbur?" Schlatt asked. Wilbur looked confused for a moment. Of course he had to dance.

"Rain or shine, broken arm, you will dance." That's what his father had said. Wilbur masked his confusion with a smile, nodding. 

"Yeah, I'm okay." He replied. Schlatt's smile faltered, being replaced by a frown. That frown sent waves of panic down Wilbur’s spine. What had he done to disappoint Schlatt? He just needed one day of peace. 

"Do you need help, Techno?" Schlatt asked. Techno was on the floor, struggling to tie his pointe shoes. Schlatt knelt down next to Techno to tie the shoes. In his peripheral vision, all Techno saw was someone sneaking behind him, so naturally he panicked. He flinched back, instinctively blocking his head. Schlatt's eyes widened, and he shuffled back to give Techno space. Wilbur shoved past him to get to Techno, trying to see if he was okay. 

"What did he do? Are you hurt? Are you concussed?" Wilbur was holding Techno’s head, checking it for signs of blunt force. Schlatt was stunned for a moment, and an agonising silence started to settle in the room. 

"Hey, hey. I won't hurt either of you, I promise. I just wanted to help you tie your shoes Techno, I swear." Techno looked up at Schlatt, scanning his face with skepticism. After a moment, he slowly held out his foot. Schlatt carefully tied the lace, making sure not to tie it too tight. 

"All done." Schlatt smiled, his smile faltering slightly when he noticed the way Wilbur was shaking as he watched. What happened to these kids? Not long after the session had begun, Schlatt made Wilbur sit in the sidelines, telling him he wasn't in the right condition to dance. Techno frowned, unsure of Schlatt’s motives, but glad his brother was getting some rest.

"Do you think we'll win the tournament?" Wilbur whispered to Techno as they reluctantly stepped out of the car and into the intimidating tournament venue. Techno just shrugged. "I hope we do." Wilbur continued, finding it was easier to ignore his anxiety if he just kept talking. "Maybe we won't be such disappointments then." Techno nodded, nudging Wilbur to get him to be quiet as their father walked behind them. Squeezing their shoulders with fake reassurance, he mustered a fake smile. 

"Don't forget we're in the public eye, stand up straight and look happy. You don't want to be taken away from each other, do you?" His voice was laced with a venom that was reserved for them only. It made them both feel ill just to hear. 

"No sir." Wilbur replied obediently, like a robot. Techno just scowled, not giving him the satisfaction of a response. 

"What about you, Techno?" He asked, his voice absolutely dripping with spite. Techno mumbled something incoherent, being purposefully inaudible. 

"Speak clearer, now." Their father demanded. Techno straightened, looking his father in the eyes. His head was tilted slightly, he was returning every single word of spite said to him with one glare. His father didn't falter. 

"Oh, sorry. I said, fuck you. Do you want me to say it again?" Wilbur flinched on Techno’s behalf as their father's nails dig into Techno’s shoulder. Techno’s eyes began to water as he held back a whimper. 

"What-about-you-Techno?" Their father repeated, sounding out every word between his teeth. Techno had to give in. 

"I'll behave." Techno muttered reluctantly, gritting his teeth. The grip on his shoulder eventually loosened. His father just smiled. The things Techno would give to slap that man in the face. 

Wilbur and Techno did not like paparazzi. All they did was ask uncomfortable questions that would get them yelled at or even hit afterwards if they answered wrong. All they did was invade privacy, and their father encouraged it. He encouraged everything they hated, including ballet. The twins plastered on a smile as they walked past a barrage of people with cameras and hats that read 'Press'. They asked questions you should never ask someone. Boundaries didn't seem to exist for these vultures. 

"Wilbur, what's your least favourite thing about your twin?"

"Technoblade, how are you so good at ballet when you're so tall?" 

"What are your guys' secrets?"

"Wilbur, where is your mother? Do you not have one?" 

Techno noticed Wilbur’s breathing begin to pick up, they had to get somewhere quiet and fast. Their father had left to take a call, that was something. Wilbur’s vision had begun to blur slightly. Techno’s eyes scanned across the courtyard, looking for a room he could take his brother to calm down. He spotted a room labelled 'VIP LOUNGE' and rushed towards it. Techno prayed that they were good enough to be considered VIPs. He didn't even care, he was getting into that room whether they liked it or not. Techno pulled his barely responsive brother into the room. Shit, there were people in here. Two blonde men, one significantly younger than the other. Presumably father and son. Two women, one pink haired, one purple haired, both talking to each other. A tall boy with split-dyed hair talking to a shorter brunette. Finally, a kind eyed brunette haired woman talking to the older blonde. They looked up curiously when Techno and Wilbur entered. The younger blonde's eyes widened as soon as he realized who they were. He looked starstruck. 

"Holy shit. Are you Technoblade and Wilbur Soot? I'm a huge fan, your routines are amazing! I-" The blonde was cut off by the older blonde shushing him. Techno was too busy trying to help Wilbur sit down without collapsing to even think of a response.

"Tommy, I think they're a little- a little busy." The older blonde mumbled. He was looking at Wilbur with a concerned expression. Wilbur had his head resting on Techno's shoulder, his breaths ragged and uneven. His eyes were squeezed shut as tears streamed down his cheeks. "Technoblade, do you need any help? My name is Phil." Techno stiffened, unsure if he could trust these people.

"We're okay. It's okay." Techno replied, wincing when Wilbur let out a quiet sob. "He just needs a second." Wilbur was too wrapped up in his panic to even register his surroundings. The brunette woman walked over, frowning sympathetically. 

"We just want to help." She assured him, her voice gentle. "I'm a nurse." Techno's protective demeanour faltered, he felt like he could trust her. But he was staying close. 

"O-okay. Don't hurt him." Techno moved aside to let her see Wilbur. Her eyes seemed to widen at the second sentence, along with the rest of the room. 

"Wilbur, can you hear me?" She asked, her voice soft and gentle. There was a trace of a nod from Wilbur. "Okay, good. My name is Puffy, I'm here to help you. Can you try to breathe along to this rhythm?" Wilbur shook his head, whimpering quietly. Techno had to stop himself from grabbing Wilbur and sprinting out of the room. His fight or flight was starting to kick in. "Why not?" Wilbur pointed weakly to his chest, his breaths still shaking. Puffy sighed sadly. "I know, I know. Just try to breathe, okay? In for four, out for seven, can you do that for me? Can you try?" Her voice was as patient as ever. A kind of patience that Wilbur wasn't used to. He nodded shakily, taking in hollow breaths. Puffy tapped the rhythm on his wrist, and Wilbur's breaths slowly started to steady. 

"Is everything okay now?" The older blonde asked. Wilbur nodded thankfully, unable to voice his gratitude. "Okay. Great. I think we're in need of an introduction. I'm Phil, you know Tommy and Puffy." He pointed to the pink and purple haired girls. "This is Niki, that's Minx." Then he pointed to the tall one and the brunette. "Ranboo and Tubbo. And we all know who you both are." Phil smiled kindly. Wilbur returned the smile, still struggling to find his voice. 

"Thank- uh, thank you, Puffy." He managed to stutter, forcing a smile.

"It's no problem! If you don't mind me asking, what triggered the panic attack?" Wilbur stared at the floor, not answering. He didn't want to talk anymore. 

"Paparazzi." Techno bluntly answered for him. He didn't need to say anything else. 

"I fucking hate them." Minx spat, her eyes flaming with unfiltered rage. "If I could, I would beat them to death with my bare hands." Wilbur blinked at her, shuffling away from where she was sitting. 

"Minx, less threats of violence in front of the famous dancers." Niki scolded fondly, noticing Wilbur's discomfort. Minx only grinned. Techno's eye twitched when Niki called them famous. He just wanted to be normal. Couldn't he just be Techno, and have that be enough? 

"That sucks, mate. The paparazzi are a disgusting mob." Phil replied, bringing the conversation back to Wilbur, a look of pity on his face. Techno shuffled awkwardly, grabbing Wilbur's hand and he stood up to leave. 

"We should, uh, we should go. Thanks for-" Techno pulled Wilbur along towards the door. Tommy stood up abruptly. 

"Wait. Do you want to come for lunch later?" He asked quietly, offering them a bright smile. Wilbur opened his mouth to say yes, but Techno cut him off. 

"No thanks." Techno replied, turning around to leave.

"Yes please." Wilbur blurted at the same time. Techno gave his twin a look. 

"When's the next time we'll be fed?" Wilbur hissed quietly, making sure he was inaudible to the rest of the room. Techno sighed. Wilbur had a point. 

"Yeah, lunch sounds nice." Techno caved, sounding slightly irritated. A glimpse of a smile traced Wilbur's lips.

"See you both later. You know where the food court is, right?" Phil asked, and they both nodded. Wilbur waved faintly, and they were gone. Once Wilbur and Techno left, Phil shot Puffy a concerned look. 

"Something is seriously wrong there." He whispered, staring at the door where they'd been standing moments before. They didn't look anything like the bright, happy twins that he'd seen on TV. 

"Maybe they're just nervous." Puffy replied, knowing Phil was right, but hoping deep down that they weren't as broken as they seemed. It made her sick to think about. "Nerves are normal before tournaments, right?" Puffy's eyes shot over to the teens sitting across from her. They all had the exact same tournament, and none were as petrified as Wilbur and Techno. 

"Those black-eyes don't come from ballet, Puff." Phil insisted. Puffy bit her lip. She knew he was right.

Wilbur attended that lunch with a bandage over his eye. He had forgotten to do the dishes. Techno was attending with a crutch. The 'gift' he'd received for defending his brother. They walked into the cosy diner, looking for Phil and the others. They spotted Tommy frantically waving and made their way over to the table. 

"Hiya mates. How are you both?" Phil was eyeing their injuries like a hawk. 

"We're good." Techno replied. That was something else Phil had noticed, Wilbur shut down during conversations and Techno spoke for him. 

"Is your leg okay? And your eye, Wilbur mate." Phil didn't want to push anything, but he was painfully worried about them. Techno stiffened, his eyes darting down to look at the table. 

"We uh, we…" Techno looked to Wilbur for an excuse, his eyes flashing with panic. 

"I walked into a door and Techno fell on his leg when I fell back. He was behind me." Wilbur blurted, woefully aware of what a terrible excuse that was. Phil nodded slowly, trying to hide his doubt. 

"Oh, okay. I hope you'll be alright in time for the first show." Phil bit his lip, giving Puffy another look. She looked just as concerned as him. 

"How are you so good?" Tommy cut in, completely unaware of the tone the conversation was at. "Like, you're both just… woah. How?" Wilbur flushed. 

"We uh, um-" -get beaten until we stop messing up. -practice extra out of pure fear. -this is a cry for help, save us. "-practice makes perfect. If you keep trying you'll get it eventually." Wilbur settled on the response that didn't make him seem vulnerable. He couldn't be vulnerable. 

"Where are Minx and Niki?" Techno asked. 

"Oh, they couldn't make it. They went clubbing last night." Puffy replied.

"Aren't they like 16? Our age?" Wilbur questioned. Puffy chuckled lightly. 

"That didn't stop them." She replied fondly. "No harm done." 

Phil cleared his throat. "Feel free to look at the menu, it's on me." He told Wilbur and Techno. Wilbur’s stomach churned looking at the menu, this was all too much. 

"Could- could we just share a side of fries?" Wilbur asked. Phil raised his eyebrows, giving Wilbur a weird look. 

"Don't worry about the money side of things, that's not a problem. You can have anything on the menu." He insisted, but Wilbur was still hesitating. 

"You think you deserve a meal? You have to earn meals, you haven't. Dancers have to be slim, you won't stay that way if you eat so much." 

Wilbur shook his head, his hands beginning to tremble. "Uh- no, the, uh, the fries are enough." Don't push it. Phil sighed, giving Puffy another look. Wilbur’s trembling worsened. Why did he keep disappointing Phil? He was doing everything he was taught. Techno held Wilbur’s hand under the table, and he took a deep breath. 

Tubbo tilted his head in confusion. "Are you not hungry? bzzt Did you eat today? FUCK! Sorry, I have tics, by the way." Wilbur nodded idly. 

Techno responded that they weren't very hungry. Wilbur met eyes with Ranboo, who was giving Wilbur a worried look. Why was everyone so fucking concerned? Wilbur was fine. He didn't need pity, he needed a break. 

"I, uh, I have to use the bathroom." 

"Go ahead, mate." Phil smiled kindly. 

Wilbur stared in the mirror, examining his face. It was quite skinny, but he was always told that was a good thing. Phil made him feel like it wasn't, though. Wilbur liked Phil, was he right? It would explain why they were all so concerned. 

"Are you okay?" Wilbur jumped, holding in a screech upon hearing a voice behind him. It was Ranboo again. 

"Oh. You scared me. Yes, I'm okay. Why wouldn't I be?" He asked slowly, trying not to seem rude. Again with all of the unnecessary concern. 

"You're crying." Ranboo responded simply. Wilbur turned back around to the mirror. He tried to wipe his eyes rapidly, his cheeks reddening with shame. 

"Shit." You can't swear. "I mean, oh. I didn't notice." Wilbur took to staring at the floor.

"Wilbur." Ranboo said bluntly, staring directly into Wilbur's eyes. Wilbur tried to break eye contact, but he couldn't. 

"Y-yeah?" He stammered, his stomach churning with anxiety. 

"I know what you’re going through." He mumbled, maintaining eye contact as he said it. Wilbur felt a wave of panic. 

"You do? " He responded through a voice crack. Ranboo nodded. Oh shit oh no oh shit oh-

"You don't eat enough. I used to be like that." Wilbur breathed a sigh of relief. He didn't know everything. It was just the food. That didn't matter. 

"I'm eating enough to be alive." Wilbur responded. Ranboo bit his lip. 

"That's not enough. Your body is eating its own fat."

"Is that not a good thing?" Wilbur was beginning to feel cornered. 

"Why would that be a good thing?" Ranboo was starting to look at Wilbur in a way that made him feel wrong. "Are you okay? Are things okay… like, at home?" Ranboo’s eyes were piercing. They made Wilbur incredibly uncomfortable, like he wasn't supposed to be looking. He asked a lot of questions, but they weren't like paparazzi ones. 

"Everything is fine. Me and Techno are fine." Wilbur confirmed, rushing back out to the main dining area. Ranboo was left feeling lost. He didn't know how to help. He had to tell Puffy about this.

Chapter Text

The qualifiers were coming up, in two days in fact. Wilbur and Techno had never felt so exhausted in their lives. They would be lucky to get water, let alone a break. Practice all day, sleep for 5 hours, rinse and repeat. They were both barely standing, and Phil had noticed. When Wilbur and Techno had their 2 hours of break on a Sunday, they would spend it with Phil and the others. Wilbur enjoyed their company, but he hated the stares he would get from Phil and Puffy. Nothing was wrong, there was nothing to worry about. They all did this, his father said so. 

"You look tired, guys." Niki had said. They insisted they were fine, just practicing a lot. Which was true, but not to the extent they were imagining. It was good to be tired, struggling to stand meant they pushed to their limits. 

"No, but-" Niki hesitated. Minx finished the sentence for her. "You both look like you're about to fall into a fuckin' grave. Is everything grand with ye?" Minx's accent tended to shine through more when she was feeling strong emotion. She looked distressed at the sight of the twins. Wilbur smiled and nodded.

"We're fine." Techno insisted, leaving no room for argument. Tubbo tilted his head, which he usually did when he was about to speak, and bashed his head into the table. 

"OW FUCK!" He cried, grabbing his nose. 

"Was that a tic?" Ranboo asked, cradling the brunette's chin. Tubbo nodded miserably, clutching his nose like it was about to fall off. "This is shit." He mumbled. Wilbur coughed quietly. 

"I know how to stop a bleeding nose." He said quietly, almost a whisper. Ranboo pushed over, letting Wilbur sit next to Tubbo. Phil exchanged another look with Puffy. Wilbur stopped the blood flowing within seconds. Tubbo gave Wilbur a confused look. 

"How did you do that so fast?" He asked. "Tell me your secrets."

"Oh, I just- I, um, I have a lot of practice." Wilbur stammered. 

"What kind of practice?" Wilbur went red, unsure of how to answer. Puffy clapped her hands, attempting to change the subject.

"Alright! Tubbo, Ranboo we should probably go. Thanks for the help, Wilbur." She smiled warmly. Wilbur watched mournfully as she left. What had he said? She left as soon as he piped up. Maybe he should take his father's advice and remain silent. Seen but not heard. 

"Again. Without stumbling, Wilbur. Finish the 15 seconds or there'll be consequences, big ones. We're too close to qualifications to fuck up." Back in the studio, after something barely constituting a break, they were back. To say they were being worked to the bone was an understatement. There was no bone left to work. Wilbur and Techno simultaneously darted forward into an arabesque, holding it for a few moments. Wilbur grabbed Techno’s hand and spun under his arm, they then leaped forward and landed into a pirouette. Then came the hard part, holding en pointe for 15 seconds. They took a deep breath, and arched their feet. Techno held it for the full 15 seconds, Wilbur didn't have the same luck. He stumbled forward after about 8 seconds, hearing a crack in his knee as he hit the ground. Not even bothering to get up, Wilbur just curled up and prepared himself for the worst. Techno sprinted forward to help his brother, before being pushed back by their father. 

"Dad, don't. He couldn't hold it but he can learn I swear he can! If you just-"

"Go back to the lobby."

"Dad, you-" His father took a step forward. 

"Go back to the lobby, now." Techno took a shaky step backwards, sparing a terrified glance at his trembling brother before sprinting out of the studio. 

Ranboo found Techno curled up on the bench outside the VIP room, crying his eyes out. He tentatively walked over, sitting next to Techno quietly. 

"Hey man, you alright?" He asked. Techno startled, straightening up and wiping his eyes. 

"Yeah. I'm fine. Everything is fine."

"Where's Wilbur?" Ranboo frowned. Techno stiffened slightly. 

"He's- he's busy. I'm not sure where he went."

"Busy with what?" Ranboo knew all of the excuses, he had made them once upon a time. Techno being cagey about Wilbur’s location wasn't a good sign. 

"Who is he with?" Ranboo was going to get to the bottom of this. Techno started to curl in on himself, shaking. 

"It was my fault." He mumbled. Ranboo placed a gentle hand on Techno’s shoulder. 

"What was?" He asked. Techno remained silent. "Techno? What was your fault?" Techno lifted his head up slightly, giving Ranboo a pained look. Just as he was about to speak, Tommy ran around the corner. 

"TECH-NO-BLAADE!" He yelled, running over. Phil, Puffy and the others rounded the corner a few seconds later. Techno forced a smile. 

"Hey Tommy." He replied as Tommy sat next to him. 

"Where is Wilbur?" He asked. Ranboo noticed Techno stiffen again. 

"He's busy." 

"Does he need any help?" Techno visibly winced at that. 

"Definitely not." He informed the blonde. Phil sat down on the other side of Techno. 

"You look distressed, mate. You alright?" He whispered into his ear. Techno nodded mutely. "You sure?" Techno hesitated. 

"Could you- could you, um, go look for him?" Techno whispered back. Phil nodded. 

"Of course, mate. You stay right here." Phil turned to Puffy, feeling his stomach turn. He needed to find Wilbur fast.

"Did we check the changing rooms?" Puffy asked, watching Phil's worry steadily increase. Phil fell silent, thinking. 

"We could check again?" He replied. Puffy nodded. They walked back around the building towards the changing rooms, completely silent. Phil felt sick. To add on to their nauseating worry, Wilbur and Techno's father walked past them, re-tying his belt. Wilbur wasn't with him. Puffy began to sprint. Nothing here was looking good. They both rounded the corner, walking into the dressing room. Phil covered his mouth as a wail escaped. Puffy’s face paled to the colour of paper. Lying on one of the benches was Wilbur, blood dripping from his face. His body was heavily bruised. Puffy walked over to the brunette, completely silent. Phil could practically feel the rage emanating from her. He felt the same way. Wilbur’s eyes shot up, looking at them both wearily. He seemed too weak to acknowledge them any further. 

"Phil, get the first aid kit." She ordered, her voice was a quiet, terrifying tone. Phil nodded, leaving Puffy and Wilbur alone. 

"Wilbur, on a scale of one to ten, how painful is this?" She tapped his arm. He let out a strained whimper, that was enough for Puffy. 

"Who did this to you?" She asked. Wilbur gave her a miserable look, weakly lifting his arm to his mouth and making a cutting motion. 

"You can't talk?" Wilbur nodded. Puffy frowned. "Could you answer by nodding?" Wilbur nodded again. 

"Okay, good. What were you doing before… this? Practice?" A nod.

"Was Techno with you?" A nod.

"Does this have anything to do with Techno?" A vigorous head shake. 

"Okay, are you able to sit up?" Another shake. 

"What is the most painful? Point to it." Wilbur waved his hand over his entire body. Puffy bit her lip. 

"Wilbur, will you be honest with me for this next question?" A hesitant nod. Puffy took a deep breath, not wanting to know the inevitable truth. 

"Did your father do this?" Wilbur’s eyes widened, there was a long pause. His eyes began to water. 

A nod. Puffy just sighed. 

Phil walked back to get the first aid kit, unable to stop shaking. The image of Wilbur wouldn't leave his head. Not a single kid in the world deserved that. As he walked back towards the VIP room, where all their items were, he was stopped by Techno. He looked like he was about to vomit. 

"Did- did you find him? Is he-?" Techno stopped himself. Phil looked down at Techno, unsure of what to do. Wilbur was his twin, he deserved to know. But Phil didn't know if he could bear Techno’s reaction. "...Phil?" Techno was on the verge of tears. 

"Techno… listen. I don't want you to panic." Techno immediately began to panic. "Wilbur is- he's hurt. Very hurt. I'm getting him a first aid kit, and we're going to call an ambulance as soon as we can. He's stable." Techno began to wail. Phil pulled the teen into a tight hug, promising him it would be okay. 

"You- you can't call an ambulance." He sobbed. 

"Why not, Techno?" Phil pulled Techno out of the hug, meeting his eyes. 

"If you call someone, they'll take you away. You'll be sent to a group home, if you think this is bad, group homes are 10 times worse. Don't call anyone, ever. I'll fight for you both, I'm keeping you here, forever." 

Techno felt his stomach turn. 

"You just- you can't. Please don't. Please." Techno was begging. Phil knew Puffy could handle Wilbur’s injuries, but he wanted those kids taken from their father. But he couldn't breach the tiny amount of trust Techno had for Phil. Techno’s demeanour was screaming 'please.' Phil couldn't break his trust, as painful as it was. He would get those kids away from their father, he would get unmistakable proof, soon. 

Phil returned to Puffy and Wilbur with a quietly sobbing Techno beside him. Techno went white as a ghost as soon as he saw Wilbur. His brother. The one he was supposed to protect. 

"T'c'no-" Wilbur choked, holding a weak arm out for his twin. Techno took his twin's hand as Puffy began to wrap up Wilbur’s wounds. 

"I'm so sorry." He whispered. "I'm so, so sorry." 

"N't y'r fault." Wilbur replied, his head lolling to the side slightly. Techno covered his mouth once again as a sob escaped. Phil sat down next to him. "You alright, Techno mate?" Techno shook his head. "It'll be okay soon. That's a promise." Techno could have laughed there and then. Things would never be okay. Not for Techno. 

Wilbur had to be carried back to his hotel room, Techno making sure their father wasn't in there beforehand. Wilbur had two missing teeth, a broken leg and a sprained elbow. Not to mention too many bruises and gashes to count. Phil was hesitant to leave the twins alone. Techno insisted he would take good care of Wilbur, and that he had been doing it for a long time. Puffy hadn't mentioned their father to Techno, meaning Techno assumed they were still oblivious. Wilbur hadn't stopped crying since they found him, he was in so much pain. 

"I should have stood up for you." Techno muttered. Wilbur shook his head. 

"We w'l'd h'v both g't'n hurt." He choked out in response, still struggling to talk. 

"I would have preferred that I got hurt over you." Techno replied. 

"'M j'st the p'nch'ing b'g…" Wilbur replied, his voice trailing off. His head was still fuzzy and he was exhausted. 

Techno clenched his fists, giving Wilbur a look. "You're not a fucking bag. You're my brother." 

"One of us… h's to t'ke the h'ts…" Wilbur’s eyelids slowly shut as he dozed off. Techno sighed, putting his head in his hands. This competition was going horribly. The worst part is that Wilbur was going to have to perform. 

"Did you find Wilbur?" Tommy asked Phil later that evening as they curled up on the couch, watching a movie. Phil bit his lip. 

"Yeah, we did."

"Where was he?"

"The changing rooms." 

"Was he okay?"

Phil hesitated. "...Yeah. He was fine." Tommy frowned, he didn't like that long pause. From what he saw from afar, Technoblade looked upset and his father was hiding something. Tommy had Wilbur’s number, he could just call him. 

"Gimme a second." Tommy grabbed his phone and walked out of the living room. 

Techno had found a note on the kitchen island, it was their father informing them he was gone for tonight. This was a huge relief, it meant Wilbur could get at least one night uninterrupted by their father's screams.Wilbur was lying on the couch, resting when his phone rang. It was Tommy, shit. 

"Does T'mmy kn'w?" Wilbur asked Techno, who just shrugged. Wilbur sighed, answering the phone. He was immediately met with the booming voice he had grown used to. 

"WILBUUUUR!" Wilbur took a deep breath and made his best attempt at sounding normal. 

"...Hello Tommy." Wilbur winced as he felt a twinge of pain in his chest. It still hurt to speak properly. 

"Where were you today?" Wilbur wasn't expecting that question right off the bat. 

"I was- I was busy."

"With what?" Wilbur coughed anxiously, he didn't know what Tommy knew. 

"I was just practicing with Techno, then he came back and I went to the changing rooms." Technically not a lie, just a huge skip over the truth. He heard Tommy click his tongue in disapproval. 

"Why did Techno look so upset then? Did you argue?" It was better to lie. 

"Yeah, we did. We made up though." Wilbur felt a pang of guilt for lying to the blonde. The line went silent for a moment. "You still there?" Wilbur asked anxiously. 

"I'm here. Can I ask you something though?" Wilbur bit his lip. 

"I mean, yeah."

"Why do you sound hurt? I can hear it in your voice, you're struggling to sound normal." Wilbur's breath caught in his throat. How was he going to excuse this? 

"I'm fine, just a cold." He insisted. Tommy audibly sighed. 

"So, if I came over right now, you would have nothing to hide?" 

"..." Shit.

"Wilbur?" 

"I'm hurt, Tommy." Wilbur admitted, hearing Tommy’s breath hitch. 

"How bad?" Wilbur didn't want to minimize his injuries, but he wanted to tell Tommy the truth. 

"I can't stand up on my own." He replied. 

"Is Techno there? To take care of you?" Wilbur heard the sounds of keys clinking through the phone. 

"Techno is here, I'm fine. Don't come over. I don't want-" I don't want you to see me like this. The keys stopped. 

"Did you and Techno even argue?"

"No. I'm sorry for lying, Tommy." 

"S'ok." 

"I'm going to hang up now." Wilbur put the phone down, placing his head in his one functioning hand.

Yesterday had been a long day for Techno. He was too exhausted to consider most things he would think of in seconds. The most important one being, what did Wilbur tell Phil about his injuries? How did he not ask? They could be taken away. He entered the living room where Wilbur remained sprawled on the couch. He looked on the verge of a mental breakdown. 

"Did you sleep at all?" Techno asked as he sat on the carpeted floor, legs crossed. Wilbur idly shook his head, not taking his eyes off of the ceiling. 

"I thought you had painkillers?"

"I took them all." Wilbur replied, his voice scratchy. 

"They were supposed to last a few days." Techno mumbled.

"They were shit quality, didn't even work." The brunette replied. Techno nodded.

"How did you keep yourself entertained for the entire night?" 

"I just kinda daydreamed. I don't know how I do it, my brain just turns off." Techno tilted his head in confusion. That didn't sound like daydreaming. 

"What does it feel like?" He asked. Wilbur clicked his tongue, thinking. 

"It's like… I'm not in my own body. It feels like I'm someone else looking at myself." 

"That doesn't sound like daydreaming." 

"Maybe not. It keeps me distracted, whatever it is." Wilbur adjusted his leg, crying out in pain when he bent it wrong. 

"Shit, you alright?" He asked. Wilbur replied with a weak smile. 

"Nothing I can't handle." 

"Uh, right. Anyway, what did you end up telling Phil and Puffy?" Techno had posed it as a casual question, hoping Wilbur would tell the truth. Wilbur’s face paling was the only answer Techno needed. "Wilbur. What did you tell them?" 

"Uhm…" Wilbur's eye darted to the side, refusing to meet with Techno’s. Techno took a step forward. 

"Wilbur." He repeated. Wilbur gulped. 

"I- I told them the truth. I- but, listen-" 

"You fucking didn't." Techno felt himself filling with rage. He balled his fists, yelling out. "Do you fucking want to be taken away? Do you WANT us to suffer?" Wilbur flinched back, but Techno was too angry to notice. 

"Tech-" Wilbur began. Techno didn't give him a chance to respond. 

"ANSWER THE QUESTION. Do you want us to suffer? Why the fuck would you tell them, you're a fucking idiot!" Techno screamed. Wilbur had started to cry. 

"Techno, we are suffering! What could be worse than this? Look at me! I'm fucking ruined, Tech! I don't know how anything could get worse!" Wilbur screamed back. Techno responded by hitting his twin brother before any reasoning could tell him not to. Wilbur cried out in agony, grabbing his face. Techno took a step back, horrified. Just like dad, just like dad, just like dad, just like dad, just like dad. 

"W-Wil, I didn't-" 

"Get out, Techno. Please don't hurt me anymore." Wilbur's voice sounded so unbelievably betrayed. He gave his brother a look Techno had only seen after their father had screamed at him. Leave before you hurt someone else.  

"I'm sorry." He pleaded. Please forgive me. Wilbur just gave him a weak nod, taking his hand away from his face to show a red, hand shaped mark sprawled across his face. Techno felt ill. 

Chapter Text

Phil had only been awake 15 minutes before he got a call from Wilbur. A wave of panic rushed through him and he answered immediately. 

"Wil? You alright mate?" Phil heard a sniffle through the phone, he was crying. "Wilbur? Is everything okay?" 

"P-Phil. Techno and I had an argument." He sobbed. Phil tilted his head in confusion. 

"Yeah? What happened?" Why would he call him about this?

"He, um, he slapped me. I don't want to be in the same hotel room as him right n-now. I don't know what to d-do. So I- I was going to ask, um, you can- you can say no. But-" 

"Which room are you in? I'll come get you." Phil replied, hearing an audible sigh of relief. 

"121, t-thank you Phil." 

"It's nothing, mate. Siblings fight sometimes." Phil replied, grabbing his keys. Wilbur let out another quiet sob. 

"N-no, but really, thank you." He repeated. "I'll repay the favour sometime, I- I swear." Phil frowned. 

"You don't need to repay anything, mate. It's no problem at all. There's nothing to repay, honestly. Tommy would be glad of the company." Phil chuckled lightly. 

"O-okay." Wilbur sounded confused. "See you in a second, then." 

"I'll see you, mate. I got you crutches, by the way." The line fell silent for a moment. 

"You- you didn't need to do that." Wilbur's voice was laced with panic. Phil bit his lip. 

"I wanted to." He heard Wilbur's breath pick up slightly. 

"N-no. You don't get it. He- he'll ask me where I got t-them. He'll take them." He stammered. 

"Who is 'he?' Phil asked, becoming increasingly concerned at Wilbur's panic towards a pair of crutches. 

"D-Dad. He won't let me- he won't-" 

"Mate. Calm down. Listen, if he tells you that you can't have them, call me. I'll explain. I'll meet him personally if I have to." This didn't seem to ease Wilbur’s worry.

"Bad dancers don’t get crutches, Phil. You only get those kinds of things when you deserve them." Phil was unsure of how to respond to that; Wilbur’s logic was terrifying. 

“Mate, if you need-” Phil heard a beep in his ear a moment later. Wilbur had hung up. 

Wilbur scribbled a poorly written note and placed it on the couch for Techno to read. He then limped over to the door, waiting for Phil to knock. Wilbur heard a loud knock on the door a moment later. He opened it, assuming it was Phil. His eyes widened in fear when he saw who it was. His father. 

"Where were you going?" He asked, his voice calm, but Wilbur knew he was angry. 

"I- I was- I was just, um." His father took a step forward, grabbing Wilbur’s injured arm as the brunette let out a sharp yelp. 

"Get back inside." He demanded. Wilbur stumbled back, grabbing the door for support. 

"Sorry, is there an issue?" Wilbur heard a voice coming from the door, it was Phil. Wilbur let out a sigh of relief, he would be unharmed for a few extra minutes.

"Excuse me, who are you to ask about family business?" His father snarled. Phil plastered on the fakest smile he could muster, learned from years of customer service. 

"Well, if you must know, Wilbur called me. He'll be coming to my room, if you don't mind." Phil's voice was bright and chirpy in the most terrifying way. Wilbur's father flashed him a murderous look. 

"You think you can just waltz in here and take my son?" He laughed cruelly. 

"I think I can, actually, and I will!" Phil smiled wider. 

"Oh yeah? Try me." Wilbur covered his ears, wanting this to end. 

"I know what goes on behind these doors, I'm waiting on evidence, and once I get it?" Phil made a goodbye motion with his hands. Wilbur saw his father pale slightly. He took a step back, allowing Wilbur to walk forward. Phil tilted his head menacingly. 

"Call Techno out too, if you don't mind." He demanded. Wilbur’s eyes widened, he gave Phil a look. Phil gave him a knowing smile as his father walked inside to get Techno.

"I'm sorry," Phil whispered, "Techno isn't safe in there either, I'll keep you both separated." Wilbur nodded mutely, deciding to stare at the floor. "Here." Phil handed Wilbur a pair of crutches, which he reluctantly took. "If he gives you any shit for it, I'll make sure he doesn't." Phil's voice had darkened significantly. 

"You're scary." Wilbur replied honestly. Phil grinned. 

"I'm only scary to people who deserve it, that side of me will never be aimed towards you. Don't worry." Wilbur nodded, hoping that was true. Techno walked out of the hotel room, looking confused. Their father slammed the door and Phil walked back down the hall. 

"Let's go, my room is only one floor down." Wilbur gave Techno one nervous look, and they walked on - or limped on. 

The first thing Wilbur noticed when walking into Phil and Tommy’s hotel room was the pleasant smell. It smelled like lavender, something the twins weren't used to. They were used to the pungent scent of alcohol and cigarette smoke. It was nice. The second thing Wilbur noticed was how nice it looked. It was personalised, even though the competition was 4 weeks long, Phil had still put effort into making it look pleasant. Tommy walked into the room, and Wilbur could have cried there and then at how comfortable he looked. Wilbur could only dream of feeling like that. 

"Hey Dad, where'd you- Wilbur? Techno? What are they-?" He looked confused, obviously not being informed of his new temporary roommates. 

"Wilbur and Techno had an argument with their father, so they're staying here for the night. Or longer, we'll see." Phil replied.. Tommy nodded, still looking slightly confused.

"Okay." He took the time to scan Wilbur’s injuries, his face scrunching up slightly. "Shit, man. I didn't think you were that badly hurt." Wilbur shrugged. 

"It's nothing, really, it doesn't really hurt that much." And, as if on queue, he stumbled forward, with Phil grabbing his functioning arm to stop him from falling. 

"Riiight, 'not hurt.'" Tommy made a motion in the air as if he was writing in a notebook. Wilbur smiled weakly. 

"Maybe a little hurt." He admitted. "I'll be okay, though." Phil clapped his hand, indicating silence. 

"Right, Wilbur, you can sleep in my bed. It's the biggest and you can rest your leg, this is not open to arguments. Techno, Tommy has a spare bed in his room, you can sleep there. I'll sleep on the couch." Wilbur pouted, not wanting to take Phil's bed. Techno nodded. "I would also prefer it if there were no further arguments." Phil gave Techno a knowing look, which he crumpled under. 

"Yes sir." He murmured. 

"Call me Phil, I'm not old enough to be a sir." He smiled lightheartedly. 

"Yes you are! You're one foot in the grave, old man." Tommy cackled. Wilbur stiffened, studying Phil's expression for anger. Phil just laughed, which confused the brunette. How could Tommy just get away with that? Wilbur smiled weakly in an attempt to fit in. Techno's poker face remained. 

"Anyway, make yourselves at home. I'm off to the funeral home." Phil joked. Wilbur giggled quietly. Phil’s face lit up, he wanted to hear that giggle more. He never wanted it to stop. 

Wilbur had been lying down on Phil's bed, idly flicking through the TV channels, when Tommy entered. 

"Tommy? Isn't it like…" Wilbur checked the time. "It's 4am, Tommy." Tommy bit his lip. 

"I know, it's just- Phil is asleep on the couch and I don't want to wake him in case he sleeps bad. I knew you were awake, and um, I may have had a nightmare. I'm not scared though, because I'm a big man. But- I was wondering-" Tommy trailed off, giving Wilbur an embarrassed look. Wilbur nodded and lifted up the bedsheets, smiling understandingly. 

"I get it, I have nightmares too." He mumbled sleepily. Tommy sighed in relief and crawled onto the bed. 

"Thank you Wilby.” Tommy went red. “Wilbur! I MEANT WILBUR! Not Wilby, I don’t say Wilby! I’m strong!” Wilbur was left stunned for a moment, then he cackled. 

“Your face was so funny.” He said quietly, smiling genuinely for the first time in a while. He looked over to Tommy, who looked dumbfounded. Wilbur felt a wave of dread rush down his back.

“D-did- did I say something? I- I didn’t mea-” Tommy shook his head vigorously. 

“No… I’ve just never heard you laugh like that before. It was…” Tommy struggled to find the right words. “It was really nice. You should laugh more.” 

Wilbur had never heard this before, he felt a strange joy wash over him. This conversation was oddly reminiscent of something, he just couldn’t remember what. “...Really?” He mused. “I was always told to hold in my laughter. They told me it was ugly.” Wilbur sighed, a grimace on his face. Tommy raised his arms to the sky. 

“Who is ‘they?’ I’ll fuckin’….” Tommy paused. “I’ll fuckin’ hit ‘em! Your laugh is poggers!” Wilbur winced, sucking in a breath. 

“Just some people I knew from school, it doesn’t matter. Also, uh, people still say poggers?” He pursed his lips, holding in a smile as Tommy went red. 

“Do- do people…” Tommy faltered for a moment. “Do people not say poggers?” Wilbur cracked a grin. 

“Only minecraft kids say it.” He explained. Wilbur’s grin widened when he saw Tommy become even more red. 

“Hey man, keep minecraft out of this! Minecraft is pogg- I mean, cool! Minecraft is a cool, swag game for big men like me.” 

“I see. I guess I’ll have to play it sometime.” Wilbur wasn’t expecting Tommy’s surprised expression. 

“YOU’VE NEVER PLAYED MINECRAFT?” He yelled. Wilbur sighed as he heard Phil shift on the couch in the other room. 

“No, I’ve never really had the time.” Wilbur replied, feeling embarrassed. But Tommy didn’t ridicule him, he actually looked excited. 

“Wait, we could have a Minecraft bonding session. I could teach you how to play, I could murder you! The possibilities are endless.” Wilbur smiled at Tommy’s enthusiasm. He hadn’t even really known what Minecraft was, he had just seen the slang from around its community. 

“Sounds fun. We could play tomorrow?” He suggested, and Tommy practically launched into the ceiling. 

“YES YES YES! Pogg- Cool Minecraft session! Like brothers!” Wilbur stiffened at the word ‘brothers.’ Tommy immediately backtracked. “I mean, not brothers. Unless, uh, unless you’re-” Wilbur shook his head, sighing. 

“No, it’s okay. I just had an old, really close friend that called me that. Things didn’t really end great. You can call me your brother if you want, though. I don’t think you’re like him.” Tommy nodded understandingly. 

“Okay, sorry if I dragged up any old memories, or something.” 

“No, it’s okay.” Wilbur closed his eyes, sighing deeply. Tommy sunk his head into his pillow and dozed off. Wilbur wondered what it was like to not be constantly on edge. 

Techno didn’t like Phil. 

Sure, he was feeding them, and keeping them safe, but Techno didn’t like that. A strange part of him felt like he should be the only one protecting Wilbur. He was Wilbur’s bodyguard, per se. Techno didn’t really have any real reasons to dislike Phil, he knew that, but he still did. 

That was, until Phil called Techno into the kitchen. 

“Techno! Do you want to help me roll this dough?” What did that even mean? Techno sighed, walking over. It wasn’t like he had anything else to do. Phil smiled, handing Techno a roller. “I’m making pizza and this kitchen is really small, so I need all of the help I can get. Wilbur and Tommy are preoccupied, and I saw that you looked bored, so maybe you’d want to help? You can say no, though.” Techno considered for a moment, realistically, he could just say no. He agreed nonetheless, he wasn’t completely heartless. Techno watched Phil roll his dough, wanting to know if there was a certain technique. 

“Ever done this before?” Phil asked, with Techno shaking his head. “Ah, okay. I can show you.” Phil pointed at his dough, “So, the end product should look like this. Springy and not too sticky. There’s a certain knack to it. So…” Techno listened intently as Phil explained the logistics of kneading dough. He wasn’t expecting to be this infatuated by baking, it was interesting. After watching Phil demonstrate one more time, he tried it for himself. Phil’s wide smile filled him with an indescribable joy. 

“You’re a natural, mate.” He beamed. Techno would have smiled wider than the sun, but he wasn’t sure he could. This atmosphere reminded him of something, something long gone. 

“Thank you, Phil.” He muttered. There were a lot of things to thank him for, but it was a start. Thank you for helping me, thank you for bringing me here, thank you for praising me, thank you for protecting my brother, thank you for distracting me. Techno had a lot left to say, he just hoped he would be around long enough to say it. 

Techno may like Phil a little bit. Maybe he was changing his opinion, just a tiny bit, so what? 

It was Wilbur and Techno’s third morning with Phil and they had never felt so good. They had gotten what normally was a week's worth of food in those 3 days, although they both had some trouble eating it. But all good things had to come to an end. They had to go home today, they had to keep training. As much as they never wanted to leave, there was no way around it. Phil hadn't wanted them to go either, but he couldn't stop them. 

"Be safe, okay boys? Give your father this note from me." Phil handed Wilbur a small note. 'Touch those boys and I'll do whatever you do to them back. Yes, this is a threat.' Wilbur smiled, it was nice to have someone to protect them, as much as Techno didn't think so.

Wilbur and Techno’s qualifiers had been pushed back a week due to Wilbur 'falling down the stairs.' Wilbur’s leg only suffered a slight break, and had almost fully healed after the 3 day break with Phil. Training had by no means halted, though. Wilbur just had to limp through it. He hadn't really spoken to Techno much after their argument, despite the fact Techno had made it abundantly clear that he was extremely sorry. When they spent their free time with Phil, he wouldn't look away from them for a second, and Techno felt coddled. He had survived 16 years, he could survive another 2. Things were fine, anyway. A few bruises meant nothing, broken bones healed. Everyone had their obstacles, right? Wilbur didn't seem to think so. He was convinced there was better out there, not just group homes. He seemed fully convinced that Phil would protect them, Techno didn't really have that faith. Phil would help them out for a while, they would go home and be forgotten. Phil and the others were a temporary luxury. So they kept going. The show had to go on. 

"En pointe." Their father demanded. Techno did so, Wilbur just stood there.

"I can't. I'm still in a foot brace." He stated blankly. Their father just rolled his eyes. 

"You're a burden. Go back to the lobby. Everything I do for you, you still complain." Wilbur felt a pang of guilt. He wasn’t a burden, he was trying his best. Maybe his best wasn’t good enough. 

"I can try-" He began, falling silent when their father raised his hand. 

"No. Just go back, you're useless." He replied. Wilbur sighed, limping out of the studio. At least Phil's threat was still lingering, they hadn't been hurt since they came back. Wilbur grabbed his crutches from the coat hanger outside the studio and made his way to the lounge. Hopefully Phil, or someone else would be around. 

He entered the lounge, making a beeline for Niki and Minx. They both waved when they saw him approaching. 

"Hi Wilbur! How are you?" Niki asked. Wilbur plasted on a fake smile, sitting down next to them.

"I'm good, almost healed." He replied. Minx's expression darkened, Wilbur sighed. What have I done to warrant a look like that? 

"Can I, like, beat the ever living shit out of your father?" There was fire in her eyes. Wilbur stiffened slightly. Oh, that’s why. He wasn’t expecting that right off the bat.

"Oh, you both-?” He trailed off, giving them an anxious look. Niki nodded. 

"Everyone except for Tommy and Tubbo know. We didn't tell Ranboo, but he knows. He was in a home like that, it gets better, you know? You just need to ask for help." She was eyeing his facial expression cautiously. Wilbur nodded, feeling awkward now. 

"Techno thinks that things would be worse if we were taken away." He muttered. Minx balled her fist. 

"Look at yourself! You're fucked, no offense. Nothing could hurt you as much as your current situation." Wilbur still hadn’t quite gotten used to how blunt Minx was with her opinions. He supposed it was helpful.

"That's what I told him. Anyways, we don't have any evidence." Wilbur replied, his voice hopeless. Niki's eyes narrowed slightly. 

"Phil can help you with that. Him and Puffy got Ranboo out of an abusive home, they can do it again. Phil is scarily smart when he needs to be." The word 'abusive' hit Wilbur like a truck. 

"Is- Am I-?" He struggled to find the words. Admitting you weren't okay was a lot scarier than he had thought. 

"Take your time." Niki said kindly. 

"Am- am I in an abusive home?" It had never really dawned on Wilbur what it was called. It felt so much worse when a label was put on it. Niki gave Minx a look. 

"Yeah, you are." Minx confirmed. "But that's okay. You won't always be."

“We’ll make sure of it.” Niki added, giving Wilbur a look that comforted him in a way he didn’t know was possible. He was grateful.

Chapter Text

Wilbur’s early childhood was always calm. It was comforting, his mother by his side and an inseparable twin on the other. The times before ballet, the times before his mother left. Before everything went to shit. But Techno was always an introvert. He never wanted to go out and make friends, he didn’t have the same /spark/ that Wilbur had. So Wilbur often went out alone, which was okay, he was used to that. It was an opportunity to make friends without being known as the identical twin of Technoblade. 

It was on one of these days that Wilbur met Fundy. Wilbur was sitting, alone, making a large wall in the sandpit.

“What are you making?” Fundy had asked, startling the brunette. The first thing Wilbur noticed was the grey streaks in his ginger hair. It looked cool. The second thing he noticed was the fox ears he wore on his head. 

“Oh, I’m making a nation for the worms.” Wilbur replied, as if it was obvious. “I like your hair, by the way.” Fundy’s eyes widened at the compliment. 

“R-really?” He asked, his voice high pitched. Wilbur nodded with a smile. “I’ve never heard that before.” 

“How?” Wilbur exclaimed. “If I had hair like that, I would flaunt it everywhere I went.” 

“I guess I always just saw it as something to be self conscious about.” Fundy replied. Wilbur shook his head vigorously. 

“You are unique! It’s really cool to be unique!” He quipped. Fundy grabbed a tuft of his hair, examining it carefully. Wilbur watched his expression like a hawk, grinning when he saw Fundy relax slightly. 

“I suppose it is quite cool.” He admitted as Wilbur cheered. “I like your personality, you’re interesting. I feel like I could listen to you ramble about anything and not get bored.” Fundy replied, Wilbur got extremely excited about that. 

“REALLY? Because I really, really like governments and no one really wants to listen because apparently that’s ‘adult stuff’ and ‘not for 8 year olds to talk about’ but I think that’s unfair! It’s really interesting and I want to talk about it!” Wilbur turned to Fundy, carefully watching for signs of annoyance. Fundy just nodded reassuringly, annotating for him to keep talking. Wilbur went on to discuss the logistics of forming and governing nations for about 20 minutes, with Fundy hanging on his every word. They just, clicked. They understood each other. Wilbur had made a friend. 

“Will you be here tomorrow?” Wilbur asked quietly. Fundy nodded with a smile. 

“Yeah! I can come everyday if you want.” He added. Wilbur cheered. 

“Yes yes yes! That would be so fun!” 

Wilbur was 12 now, and him and Fundy had been best friends for 4 years. Any time not spent with Techno, was spent with Fundy. They were practically brothers away from home at this point. At this particular moment in time? They were arguing. 

“Why do you never have time for me anymore? It’s all ballet, you never have any time for anyone.” Fundy looked annoyed, making Wilbur want to curl up onto a ball. His life was falling apart, Fundy was all he had. His mother was gone, Techno had completely changed into a shell of his former self, his father was constantly angry. He had become obsessed with turning him and Techno into stars. Wilbur wanted to make time for Fundy, he just couldn’t.

“Fundy, I’m-” Wilbur let out a weak sob. “I’m trying. My Dad is making me-” Fundy cut Wilbur off with a loud sigh.

“Stop making excuses, Wil! Just admit that you don’t like me anymore! Admit that you’re too obsessed with ballet to make any effort!” He was yelling at this point. Wilbur shook his head repeatedly, unable to stop the tears from falling. 

“Fundy, you’re like my brother! I would never dislike you! It’s not my fault, I sw-” Fundy stood up, effectively ending the conversation. 

“It’s fine Wil.” He hissed, his voice quiet. “It’s fine. You don’t have to make excuses anymore.” He walked away, not sparing the brunette a second glance. Wilbur was left, curled up on a bench, sobbing his eyes out. He had lost his first friend. 

“Wilbur, is everything okay? You seem a bit….” Shelby bit her lip, trying to find a word that wasn’t too forward. They pretty much only ever saw Wilbur in school, he was always busy outside of school hours. He said it was ballet practice, but surely it didn’t take /that/ long.

“You look fucking depressed.” James finished, dodging a punch in the arm from Shelby. Wilbur sighed, pushing his knees up to his chest and wrapping his arms around them. Shelby was giving him ‘the look.’ The ‘if you don’t tell me why you’re upset, I will personally hunt down and murder whoever hurt you.’ 

“Um-” Wilbur’s voice immediately broke, a wonderful start. Tears began to fall once again and he hadn’t even said anything. Shelby pulled him into a hug. “Fundy- he, um, he unfriended me.” He stammered. 

“The fuck? Why? Weren’t you like better friends than the 3 of us?” James looked simultaneously confused and angry, which was a strange combination to look at. 

“Apparently we weren’t.” Wilbur watched a tear fall onto his lap. “He said I never have time for him. It’s not my fault- I- I swear I’m trying to… to make time. He- he just thought I was lying.” Shelby and James weren’t going to lie that they didn’t also think he was lying. Shelby shot James a ‘keep your mouth shut’ glare. He held his tongue. 

“I’m sorry Wilbur. I’m really sorry. I know you and Fundy were like brothers.” She winced as she saw him stiffen. That was not a good choice of words. 

“We’re not like brothers. I would never abandon a friend.” He spat, his voice turning defensive. 

“Sorry Wil, I didn’t mean it like that. I just meant, I know you were close, and it must be hard.” 

“It is hard. I just thought he would stick around. It’s not like I don’t want to spend time with my friends. I just can’t.” Wilbur covered his mouth in an attempt to stifle the sobs, but just made it hard for himself to breathe. This wasn’t how 12 year olds should have to live. 

“Why can’t you? I get you’re busy, I guess. But, like, it can’t always just be ballet.” James asked before Shelby could stop him. She kicked him under the seat. Wilbur lifted his head to meet eyes with James for a moment, he looked hurt. 

“It- it is ballet. I- I know it sounds dumb, and- and like I’m lying. B-but my Dad, he makes us practice a lot. I-” Wilbur froze. “I’m not allowed to have friends.” He finished, his voice small. Shelby felt like there was something missing in this story.

“You’re just, not allowed? How does that work?” James asked, earning another kick from Shelby. Wilbur looked on the verge of a panic attack now. 

“I’m- I’m not supposed to- I can’t say. I-” He curled in on himself, grabbing tufts of his hair and pulling at them. Shelby shushed him gently, pulling his hands away from his head. 

“Hey, it’s okay. I believe you. If you’re ever ready to tell me what’s happening, me and James are here.” Wilbur gave her a subtle nod, his head buried inbetween his knees. 

“Yeah, man, we’re not going anywhere.” James added, unsure of how he was supposed to react. 

“I- I have history next, I have to go.” Wilbur stood up abruptly, grabbing his rucksack and rushing out of the cafeteria. Shelby and James sat in silence for a few minutes, processing what had just been said. 

“What the fuck was that?” James snapped, breaking the silence. He chose to ignore the glare he got from one of the teachers. 

“I don’t know James.” Shelby replied honestly. “All I know is that something is going on.” She paused for a few moments, biting her lip. “Something bad.”

Wilbur tried his hardest for the next few days to start a conversation with Fundy at school. It was difficult, considering Fundy apparently hated Wilbur now. He was hanging out with another classmate, Quackity and some others now. Wilbur couldn’t ignore the jealousy that burned through him when he saw Fundy laugh at one of their jokes. He used to be the one making the jokes. Techno had noticed Wilbur’s drop in mood. 

“Why are you staring at Fundy? I thought you were friends or something.” He asked innocently. 

“He doesn’t want anything to do with me anymore.” Wilbur replied.

“Why?” Techno pressed on.

“He said I didn’t make enough time for him. I tried to explain that it wasn’t my fault, but I can’t really tell him about home.” Techno stiffened at the mention of their home-life, but his anger overpowered his discomfort. 

“He ended a four year friendship because you were BUSY?” He roared, giving Fundy a murderous look. Wilbur nodded, feeling Techno’s eyes on him as he stared at the floor. 

“Go over to him, explain why you’re busy. See what he says. I’m over here if anything happens.” Techno retorted.

 Wilbur shook his head, “I-I can’t do that.” 

“Why not? You were friends for so long, just explain!” Wilbur already knew he didn’t have a choice in the matter. He sighed, approaching Fundy and the others. This was a terrible idea. 

“Fundy? Could I talk to you for a sec? In… private?” Wilbur struggled to maintain eye-contact as he saw the grins of Fundy’s new friends. 

“You know this nerd, Fundy?” Sapnap asked through a giggle. Wilbur looked over to Fundy, practically begging him to say yes. 

“No, I met him like, once. Probably thinks we’re friends.” Fundy laughed cruelly along with the others. Wilbur felt like he had been ripped in half. 

“Get lost, kid.” Quackity uttered, venom in his tone. Wilbur shook his head defiantly, standing his ground.

“I need to talk to Fundy.” He repeated, wincing as they erupted into laughter again, mocking his tone. Wilbur barely had a chance to speak again before he was pushed to the ground by Dream, the ‘popular kid.’ Shock flashed Fundy’s expression before the cruel smile returned, slightly more reluctant this time. Wilbur grabbed his head with a yelp, feeling blood. The next thing he saw was a flash of brunette hair as Techno dived on top of Dream. He punched the masked teen before he even realised what had happened. Grabbing his neck, Techno snarled. 

“Don’t. Touch. My. Fucking. Brother.” 

“Dude! Calm down! Okay, I’m sorry, let me go!” Techno relinquished Dream, pushing him against the wall. He turned around, helping Wilbur to stand up.

“Report this, and I’ll be back.” Techno threatened, walking away. Wilbur turned to follow, not before giving Fundy a betrayed look. Beneath the fake smile, Wilbur saw sympathy. Whether he was sorry or not, that friendship was over. Brothers, to strangers. Wilbur couldn’t lie and say it didn’t hurt. 

Chapter Text

It was time, Wilbur’s arm and leg had completely healed, and it was finally time for their qualifiers. It was a huge relief, if Wilbur’s leg had taken any longer to heal, they would have been knocked out of the competition. A functioning body unfortunately meant copious amounts of time in the studio. The twins had both moved past the argument, knowing that they only had each other. They couldn’t afford to turn against each other. 

Techno, as always, had woken up an hour before Wilbur and had walked to the studio to practice alone. Wilbur dragged himself out of bed with a groan, his exhausted muscles screaming in protest. He threw on a baggy hoodie and equally baggy jeans. He grimaced. These fit me fine before… He was so tired. If he messed up these qualifiers he would be dead meat. They would drive back home, with no Phil or Puffy to protect them. He could imagine the excuses now. “Doctor, they’re just so clumsy. They were climbing a tree and fell off from about 15 feet in the air. I don’t know what to do with them anymore.” The sceptical looks from other adults, the countless questions about their homelife that they would lie about. The hospital was basically a second home at this point, if they were even taken there in the first place. If the punishment was exceptionally severe, they would just be locked into their shared room with a first aid kit and a pillow. 

Wilbur made his way to the hotel bathroom after a few minutes of staring at the wall. His mind was overwhelmingly fuzzy. Grabbing a hairbrush, he untangled his knotted hair. He frowned at the large amounts of hair that clumped onto the brush. Why is it falling out? It was probably best just to leave it alone for now. Skipping breakfast, he left the hotel room and made his way over to the studio. Their father was still asleep so he would have some time to warm up and practice at his own pace. As he walked through the busy street, he was stopped by someone coming out of a cafe. He was wearing a maid outfit… with fox ears. It was certainly an interesting choice of attire.

“Hey man, you look hungry, do you want something to eat? My cafe is just in here, you can have something on the house.” Wilbur smiled politely and shook his head. 

“No thank you, I already ate.” He replied quietly. There were a few beats of silence. The man stared at Wilbur for a few moments, although it felt like an hour for Wilbur. 

“W-Wilbur?” He stammered, sounding…. nervous? Wilbur looked up, nodding slowly. 

“Yeah, I’m Wilbur, do you- do you want a photo or something?” Wilbur took a small step back. Why did this guy look so shocked? 

“No, Wilbur, it’s me.” He replied. Wilbur’s eyes narrowed. He did look quite familiar. All of a sudden, recognition filled his gaze. His eyes widened, taking a step back. 

“F-Fundy?” He breathed, feeling dread build up inside him. Fundy nodded, his eyes swimming with tears. 

“Wilbur.” He repeated. “What- what happened to you?” He whispered, looking distraught. 

“I- I-” Wilbur didn’t know what to say. What happened to me? “I’m fine.”

“Wilbur… you’re so-” Wilbur could tell Fundy was picking his words carefully. “You’re, you-” There was a silence that stretched out for so long that it was painful to endure. “When was the last time you ate?” Wilbur froze up, his gaze falling to the floor. He ate a pretzel yesterday, that probably didn’t count. It was probably when he was staying with Phil, (who fed them entirely too much, in Wilbur’s opinion.) He had been given food when they got home, but he slipped it to Techno when he wasn’t looking, as he always did. Techno deserved extra food, he worked harder. It never occurred to Wilbur that Techno worked harder because he ate more. "Wilbur? Do you want to come in for a coffee?" Fundy was begging. Wilbur could hear it in his tone. Part of Wilbur wanted to run, because Fundy had hurt him, left him. But another part of Wilbur wanted to catch up. He bit his lip. 

"I- I can't" He replied, his voice a whisper. 

"Why not?"

"I- I have ballet. I'll be late." There was another long pause. This was becoming a common theme. Wilbur felt trapped, this was different. There was once a time where Wilbur and Fundy would easily slide into light-hearted bickering, now the other felt like a stranger. 

"You still do ballet? I thought that was just-" 

"A lie?" Wilbur finished, an edge to his voice. Fundy looked down in shame. "I wasn't avoiding you, Fundy. If you had given me a chance to explain, you would have known that I don't have a choice. I don't have free-time anymore, Fundy." Wilbur wasn't aware he'd held this grudge until it was spilling out of him. He would have ran away, but he didn't think he had the energy to, right now. He needed to sit down. 

"Wil, I'm so fucking sorry. I watched Dream push you. I didn't do anything to stop it, I laughed at you. I lied about our friendship, I was so fucking shit to you. Then- then I moved out here and never saw you. I never got to fully apologise." Wilbur was struggling to stay on his feet, let alone register what Fundy was saying. "Wil?"

"Could I… sit down… somewhere?" His speech was slurred. His head was spinning, he couldn't focus on anything. Everything just kept going and going and going and going and going and going and g-

Wilbur woke up in the backroom of the cafe, propped up onto a surprisingly cosy armchair. His ears were ringing. He tried to sit up, groaning when he felt too weak to even try. 

“...Fuuuck.” He murmured. He heard someone startle from the main room of the cafe. Footsteps trundled into the backroom, those steps being Fundy’s. 

“You’re awake.” Fundy breathed, sounding incredibly relieved. Wilbur gave him a confused look. When had he even slept? “You uh, you passed out.” Fundy elaborated upon seeing Wilbur’s expression. 

“Oh.” Wilbur fell silent. Fundy clicked his tongue awkwardly. 

“Do you want something to eat?” Wilbur’s stomach rumbled at the thought, but he pushed his hunger aside, shaking his head. Fundy sighed. “Can I rephrase that? Please, eat something. You clearly passed out from lack of nutrients.” Wilbur shook his head again. 

“I ate.” He insisted. Fundy frowned, looking unimpressed. 

“When? When did you eat last? A full meal.” Fundy wasn’t going to drop this. Wilbur just had to suck it up and tell the truth. However scary it might be. 

“I- well, a full meal? Probably, uh…” Wilbur paused, adding up the days. Fundy clapped his hands together. 

“If you have to count the days, it’s not been for a while, right?” Wilbur nodded slowly. 

“I mean, it’s not that bad, is it?” He replied, taking Fundy’s expression as a yes. It was ‘that bad.’ Fundy remained silent, giving Wilbur a strange look. It looked like a mixture of worry and fear. There was nothing wrong with Wilbur’s eating habits. He had to be agile for ballet, it was a good thing. Everyone he met made it seem like it wasn’t, though. Wilbur decided now would be a good time to change the subject. “What’s with the uh…” He gestured to Fundy’s outfit. The other immediately went red. 

“It’s a gimmick, okay? It’s like… the cafe’s thing.” He rushedly explained. “It’s- people like it! People like it, right?” A smile traced Wilbur’s lips.

“I mean, you do you. If you like wearing a dress and fox ears, go for it.” Wilbur grinned as Fundy groaned. 

“I DON’T LIKE IT! It’s just the cafe’s thing!” He replied, his voice raising lightheartedly. 

“Oh, so you think that men shouldn’t wear dresses? Wowww, that’s- that’s fucked up, man.” Fundy stomped his foot on the floor as Wilbur cackled. 

“THAT’S NOT WHAT I SAID AT ALL!” He yelled back, starting to laugh. They easily fell back into their old banter that felt so familiar, yet so foreign. It was nice. 

Wilbur left the cafe with Fundy’s number and a bag of ravioli he promised he would eat. Fundy had already coaxed him into eating two cookies, so he would eat the ravioli tomorrow. He checked the time, feeling overwhelming anxiety crash into him when he saw he was 15 minutes late for practice. He was supposed to be half an hour early. He had a missed call from Techno, and 5 texts.

Techie: Wilbur, where are you

Techie: Dad is here

Techie: Wilbur

Techie: Dude

Techie: He’s seriously pissed, hurry up

He was in so much trouble. All he could do now is just get there and hope for the best.

As he walked into the building, towards the room where all of the dancers trained, he was called over by Puffy, who was leaving her studio. 

"Hello Wilbur, how are you doing? Nervous?" Wilbur sighed at the reminder of tomorrow's qualifiers.

"Yeah, it's scary to think about." He replied. Puffy tilted her head and smiled kindly. 

"I know you'll do great. I was watching videos of you and Techno’s old performances. They're breath-taking." 

"T-thank you Puffy." 

"It's true! Would you like to watch Ranboo and Tubbo's routine for a bit? I'm sure you could offer a few pointers." Puffy just wanted to give him a few moments of solace. 

"No, sorry. I- I have to-" He gestured to his studio room, unable to voice it. Puffy nodded understandingly. 

"Ah, I see. I'll talk to you later?" Wilbur nodded, giving her a weak smile. He didn't know how he was going to get through the day without collapsing. 

The day of the qualifiers hadn't been exciting, it hadn't felt like a build up of everything they'd achieved. It felt like crippling anxiety and the dear of failure. If they didn't make it through to the semi-finals, that was a petrifyingly quiet car ride home and then… neither of them wanted to think about it. Tommy called them over moments before he and the others were about to go on-stage. There were hundreds, possibly thousands of people out there and Tommy seemed completely unfazed. Wilbur admired his confidence. 

"Technoblade, watch me pop off out there. I am going to outshow this entire competition. 'Woah, look at Tommyinnit, he’s so handsome and good at ballet. We should make him president.' That's what they'll say, Technoblade." Techno grinned. 

"Watch the way you speak to the legendary Technoblade, buddy. Just kidding, you'll do great. Also, 'Tommyinnit'?" Tommy went red.

"Oh, that's what Tubbo calls me because I say innit a lot. It's just kinda my name at this point." 

"That's sweet." Wilbur blurted. "That you have a nickname, not that you say innit." 

"Do you have a nickname? Other than just Wil?" 

"Uh, not really. Apart from the time that you called me Wilby."

"I DID NOT! THIS IS LIES AND SLANDER! REMOVE WILBUR SOOT FROM THE COMPETITION!" Tommy was grinning despite his feigned anger. Wilbur giggled quietly, unable to muster a full laugh amidst his anxiety. Phil called Tommy over a moment later. 

"Ah shit, gotta go boys. Wish me luck." He gave the twins a salute and ran over to the others. Wilbur sighed contently, feeling slightly less nervous after speaking with Tommy. 

Minx, Niki, Tommy, Tubbo and Ranboo all skipped onto the stage a few minutes later, one by one, like ducklings. As they started to dance, Wilbur and Techno found themselves infatuated by their fluid movements. It was like they had some kind of sixth sense, they weaved in and out of each other's moves like they were one entity. Once they finished, the room erupted into claps and cheers. Tommy took a step forward, leaped into the air as the other four immediately grabbed him and held him up as he smiled widely. It was a heartwarming scene. They all looked so… happy. Wilbur wondered what that felt like. Wilbur felt a tap on his shoulder as they walked off stage. It was his father. 

"Maybe if you worked harder, you could be like that." He whispered. Grabbing his and Techno’s shoulder, he lead them backstage. They were next. 

The last thing Wilbur saw before walking onto the stage was a hopeful thumbs up from Tommy. He held that image in his mind refusing to let it go. He was going to do well, Puffy, Phil and everyone else believed in him and Techno. He gave Techno a firm nod, and they began. 

As always, Wilbur’s mind went completely numb the second he started dancing. He got completely lost in the routine, focused on hitting the right positions with the right form at the right time. The next time Wilbur was conscious of his surroundings the crowd was cheering and clapping. They were clapping for him. For Techno. They deemed their performance worthy of a standing ovation. He ignored his father's glare. That didn't matter now. What matters was that Wilbur was proud. Niki, Minx, Tommy, Tubbo, Ranboo, Puffy and Phil's wide smiles and cheers were enough. "Smile brightly, cameras are watching." That’s what their father said. But Wilbur was smiling, not for the cameras, but for himself. 

Chapter Text

Wilbur and Techno returned backstage without a smile. As always, any drop of happiness they felt was crushed by their father the second he spoke. 

"That could have been better. A lot better. Wilbur, you were shaky. You're supposed to be sleek, graceful, not a stupid little shaky child. You were taught better than this. But as always, you spent all of your time with those 'friends' of yours. Techno, you were out of sync, you weren't keeping up. You need to be on the right wavelength or this isn't going to work for you. You were both disappointing. I know I trained you both bett-" His monologue was interrupted by Phil approaching the group. 

"Hello, I was coming over to praise Wilbur and Techno on their breathtaking performance, and I couldn't help but notice you being an awful coach and father." Their father scoffed, opening his mouth to respond. Phil didn't give him the leeway to. His voice dropped, and he leaned in, snarling. "I just hope you know that I am fully aware of how you treat those boys. Mark my words, Mr Soot, I'm putting a stop to it." Their father scoffed. 

"With what proof, Mr Watson? With all due respect, I believe you're just trying to poach my dancers." He replied, his voice unwavering. Phil smiled menacingly. 

"Oh, I have my ways. You'll find out pretty soon." The older blonde growled. Wilbur felt his breathing start to pick up, this was too much. There was going to be a fight. Techno noticed, dragging the brunette over to the others.

"You're all talk. You have no power here, you have five dancers and none are as good as my two." 

"Maybe you should try telling them that, hm?" Phil’s smile dropped into a snarl once more. "See if you'll have that arrogance in, say…" He paused. "A month?"

"What are you implying?" Their father asked, his eyes narrowing. Phil’s voice was practically a whisper at this point, his composure remained. 

"I'm implying, Mr Soot, that you will not be left near those boys again. I'll make sure of it." Phil could see him getting increasingly more angry, it was cathartic. 

"They're my sons." He hissed. "They are my property. I'm not letting your little group of do-gooders take them away." 

"Do you love them, Mr Soot?" Phil asked simply, his tone measured. 

"What?" 

"It's a simple question. Do you look at your two sons, and feel compassion? Do you feel an attachment to them? Do you tell them you care about them? Would you feel bad, if you, let's say…" Phil leaned in closer, his voice barely audible. "Would you feel bad if you hurt them, Mr Soot?" Phil took a step back, waiting for a response. 

"I'm not engaging in this." He replied, looking slightly less zealous than before. Phil just smiled and nodded, waving his arm forward. 

"The door is there." He replied. 

"Wilbur, Tec-" Their father began, before being stopped by Phil. 

"No, they'll be staying with us." He asserted. It wasn't open to argument. "If that's alright with you, of course. I would strongly recommend that it is, considering my, sources." Phil could tell his smiles were getting on his nerves, so naturally, he smiled again. Their father just sighed, walking out of the building. Wilbur and Techno visibly relaxed the moment he was gone.

“You alright, Wilbur?” Phil asked as he approached the group once again. “Your father is gone for now.” Wilbur nodded mutely, his knees pulled up to his chest. He stared forward, his eyes unblinking. 

“He’s a bit overwhelmed, I think.” Niki piped up. Phil nodded understandingly. “He hasn’t spoken since he came over, he’s just sitting. He's disassociating.” Techno sat next to Wilbur, his eyes slightly narrowed. Phil had noticed that to be a common theme when Wilbur was in a vulnerable state, he went into a complete protective mode. Phil couldn't blame him.

"Techno, is this a common thing?" He asked. Techno considered for a moment. 

"I never knew what it was called. Dis-" He paused.

"Disassociation. Let me put it this way, does he 'daydream' a lot?" 

"Yeah, he does. Like that, but not as bad. This is worse than most times." Techno replied, and Phil nodded slowly.

"Okay, and does he do this in…" Phil had to choose his wording carefully here. He knew Techno was sensitive about their homelife. "...less than ideal situations?" Techno nodded mutely. There was a short silence, interrupted by an idle hum from Wilbur. 

“You were both fucking amazing, by the way. Believe me when I say I’ve never seen anything like it.” Phil beamed, trying to lighten the mood. 

“Thank you, Phil.” Techno replied. Wilbur just smiled weakly, rocking his head back and forth softly. 

“Yeah! I said I was gonna pop off and you took that personally, big man. I am no judge, but you both were just- amazing!” Tommy exclaimed, throwing his arms in the air to exacerbate his point. Wilbur whimpered and flinched back at the sudden movement, squeezing his eyes shut. Tommy didn’t notice, to the rest of the group’s relief. Puffy stood up abruptly. 

“Techno, do you want to go out with Wilbur for some fresh air? It might calm him down a bit.” Techno nodded, gently poking Wilbur and grabbing his hand. Wilbur blinked in confusion, his eyes slightly widened. He looked like someone had just woken him up. 

“Wilbur, we’re going.” He whispered. Wilbur nodded slowly, following Techno out of the room dreamily. Tommy frowned, falling silent. 

“Did I say something?” He asked quietly, looking slightly hurt. “It was a compliment.” Phil grimaced, pursing his lips. He spared Puffy a look saying ‘should I tell him?’ She shook her head subtly. 

“No, Toms, you didn’t do anything wrong. I think Wilbur and Techno are just tired today. It’s been a long day for all of us.” Phil replied, pulling the blonde into a hug. Tommy bit his lip, leaning into the touch. 

“Wilbur seemed upset.” He said quietly. Phil sighed, running his fingers through Tommy’s hair.

“Yeah, he is. It’ll all be okay soon, though. You have my word on that.” Tommy didn’t respond. He had a feeling he knew more than everyone thought he did. Bruises don’t appear overnight. 

Something Minx had noticed, in the brief conversations that she’d had with Wilbur, was that he was funny. Like, really funny. He bounced off of her banter so well, but he always shied away from the jokes after a moment. It was like he realised he wasn’t allowed to show his true self. Minx was desperate to break through his protective shell, she wanted to see his full personality. She had made a joke about his hairline and he clapped back with a joke so funny she fell out of her chair. But he wasn’t proud of it, he apologised, saying it was too mean, and stopped participating in the conversation. Minx hated that, with a searing passion. The fact he had been conditioned to believe that he couldn’t joke about anything, couldn’t have fun. She was determined to break through that thought process. 

Niki however, had bonded with Techno. She was the sugar to his salty outer demeanour. She helped break through his shell, too. He had almost completely shut away his true personality in favour of protecting himself and Wilbur. She offered to help him bake a cake after he’d admitted he enjoyed baking with Phil. It was a good outlet for his emotions, so Niki baked with him whenever she could. It wasn’t often, considering their schedule was always taken by practice, but it was nice. Techno had a lot of random wisdom that Niki always loved, hanging onto every word. He would always get embarrassed once he realised he was going off on a tangent, no matter how much she told him she enjoyed it. 

Ranboo saw a scary amount of himself in Wilbur, which is why the brunette worried him so much. He appeared to have an eating disorder, even though he refused to admit it. He was in an abusive home, with little to no support systems. It was eerily reminiscent of Ranboo’s early childhood, before Puffy. He just hoped that Phil and Puffy would find a way to help them before it got too bad. 

Wilbur had been in a lot of stressful situations. It was a normal thing, growing up the way he did. So naturally, he learned ways to cope. If he hid from the world, nothing could hurt him. So, when things started to escalate, he just, shut down. Techno dragged him away, like he always did, and he just curled in on himself. He was vaguely aware of the fact that people were trying to talk to him but it was better to just stay in his little bubble. Just pretend that his reality wasn't real, for a while. He called it daydreaming, but Techno said it was something else. It didn’t really matter what it was, it dragged him away from his life for a while. 

Wilbur woke up the next day in his hotel room bed. He sighed, not even recalling getting home. This daydreaming, or whatever it was, was becoming seriously irritating. He walked into the kitchen, seeing a note attached to the island. Meeting press people about your performances, be back tomorrow. Don’t do anything stupid or else. Wilbur put the note down, nodding to himself. That was a rare free day. With the semi-finals in 4 days time, Wilbur wasn’t expecting that. They would be lucky to get an hour of free time on the days leading up to a performance. But hey, Wilbur wasn’t complaining. 

“Morning Techno!” He called into the other room. A faint grunt from Techno was his response. Checking his phone, he noticed a text from Tommy. 

Tommy: AY WILBURRR, helloo we re goin for luch if you and techo wanna come?

Wilbur smiled softly at the grammar mistakes. 

Wilbur: yeah sure, what time

Tommy: lunchtime dumbass 

Wilbur: oh, my b 

Tommy: tubbo wants to say something
Tommy: helo its me tubno, i am big loser

Tommy: THIDS IS THE RESL TUBBO I DID NOR WRITE THAT

Wilbur: interesting 

Wilbur laughed for the first time in a while. Texting Tommy was always a highlight.

Tommy: hi william this is minx

Wilbur: why are you all texting from tom’s phone, you all have my number

Tommy: because it’s funnier! - niki

Wilbur: are you all there

Tommy: Yes, we are all at the cafe already. - Phil

Tommy: HURRY UP YOU BIG DUBMASS - the big man himself

Wilbur: okay sorry

Tommy: hello, it’s ranboo

Wilbur: hello ranboo

Tommy: GET TORLLED IT WASN’T RANBOO IT WAS ME! TOMMYINNIT! 

Wilbur put down his phone, a smile plastered on his face. Tommy was clearly having the time of his life. He knocked on Techno’s door. “Techno, get up! We’re going to the cafe.” There was a short pause. 

“Don’t we have practice?” A sleepy Techno asked. 

“No, Dad is gone until tomorrow.” Another pause.

“Okay.” Wilbur heard Techno pull himself out of bed. He walked back into the kitchen, watching his phone buzz with notifications from Tommy. It was just different members of the group pretending to be each other. 

They arrived at the cafe about 20 minutes later, with Tommy leaping out of his seat to hug Wilbur. Wilbur hugged him back, smiling. He was glad to see him when he was more lucid than yesterday. He walked over to the table where the others were sitting, and Minx gestured to the seat next to her. Niki called Techno over next to hers. The two immediately started to chat. Minx and Wilbur always took a moment to click, though.

"Hi Minx." Wilbur mumbled timidly, sitting down. 

"Hello Wilbur. Your performance was really good yesterday, I never got the chance to say." She smiled. Wilbur hummed quietly, disagreeing.

"Could have been better." He replied. 

"How?" Minx asked. "Give me one reason how it could have been." Minx caught sight of a light glare from Niki. It was a 'stop being pushy' glare. 

"Uh, I could have been less shaky. I could have smiled more, I-" He fell silent when Minx raised her hand, asking for silence. 

"I'm gonna stop you right there. Those are dumbass reasons." She cut across him. Wilbur stumbled over his words for a moment, unsure of how to handle her. He liked Minx, but she knew the exact ways to make him uncomfortable. 

"Oh- uh- sorry?" He stammered, watching Minx's expression carefully. She looked frustrated. Wilbur wasn't entirely sure what he had done. Niki glared at Minx again. 

"Minx, can we talk for a second?" She asked. Minx nodded, stepping out of her seat and following Niki out of the cafe. Wilbur watched through the window as Niki reprimanded Minx. 

"Are you trying to freak him out? What are you doing? I know you're a pushy person, Becca, but push back a bit!" Minx tilted her head back, giving Niki an annoyed look. 

"Don't pull out the Becca card on me. I want him to open up! I'm challenging him, Nikita. " She shot back. Niki sighed in frustration. 

"Maybe your challenges are just scaring him! Just because he clapped back at one of your jokes once doesn't mean it's a button you can press by being pushy! He's got shit going on, Becca." Minx opened her mouth to respond, when someone else spoke. 

"...'He' is right here." Wilbur muttered, sounding embarrassed. Niki startled, looking up at Wilbur in alarm.

"Wilbur! We were just-" 

"Talking about me." He finished. Minx bit her lip as Niki went red. 

"I was just- Minx was-" She struggled to form sentences under Wilbur’s sweltering gaze. 

"I don't need people to take care of me, Niki." He replied, his voice gaining confidence, although still quiet. 

"You should tell that to Techno. You cling to him like a sloth to a tree." Minx mumbled. Niki gasped, giving Minx a look that would make a bodybuilder nervous. Wilbur just clenched his jaw, staring at the floor. 

"I'm going to go back inside." He uttered. 

"BECCA!" Niki yelled, once Wilbur was out of earshot once again. "What the fuck is up with you today?!" Minx's eyes widened. 

"I thought- I thought he would-" 

"What did you think?" Niki asked, her voice laced with anger. "Did you think he would enjoy the shot at the only person he feels safe with?" 

"I really didn't-"

"Maybe you should have thought a bit more about making a joke about the abuse victim's only support system? His brother?" Niki wasn't backing down from this. Minx had fallen completely silent at this point. "I know you thought you were helping him to learn that 'it's okay to joke around and have fun,' but you just hurt his feelings and overwhelmed him. Good job Becca!" Niki slow clapped, staring daggers as she did it. 

Niki and Minx both ended up leaving early, refusing to elaborate why. Wilbur knew. He wasn't mad at Minx, he didn't really have it in him to be angry at people anymore. He just talked to Tommy instead. Talking to Tommy always raised his spirits. 

"Do you play any instruments, Wil?" He asked, "I'm a jazz pianist." 

"I play guitar, but-" Wilbur trailed off, sighing. 

"But?" 

"I'm not really allowed to play. I get… uh, …yelled at if I'm caught playing." Wilbur caught sight of Phil’s head darting over to him for a moment. 

"That's so shit! You should be allowed to play any instrument you want. Just tell them you're too swag to not play." Wilbur smiled. 

"I've always wanted to write my own songs." He mumbled wistfully. 

"You should! I would be your number one listener!" Tommy exclaimed, throwing his arms out as he spoke. He tended to do that a lot. Wilbur tried to pass off a flinch as a cough and Tommy pretended not to notice. 

"Tubbo can play piano too, we play duets." Tubbo peered over Tommy’s shoulder. 

"I heard my name! What are you- BEES! I LOVE BEES! what are you talking about?" 

"I was talking about our piano skills." Tommy replied and Tubbo nodded vigorously. 

"Yeah! Tom, do you remember the time when we were both playing and I ticked and bashed my head into the piano?" Tubbo laughed, but Tommy looked like he was recalling a bad memory.

"How could I forget that day?" Tommy replied, a smile tracing his lips. "We spent most of it in the ER." Tubbo winked. 

"I truly- bazinga! I truly- brrrr! sorry, I truly stole the show." Tubbo grinned.

"Tubbo, I was uh, I was wondering, how do you not tic when you're dancing on stage?" Wilbur asked quietly. 

"Oh! When I'm really focused on something, I- pop! I usually don't tic, because it's taking up most of my focus to do that one- bing bong! that one thing." 

“Oh, okay. Thank you.” Wilbur smiled. Their conversation was interrupted by Phil clearing his throat loudly and Ranboo springing out of his seat. 

“Tom, Toby, there’s a Mewtwo literally down the street. Come on!” All three teens rushed out of the cafe and down the street. Wilbur tilted his head in confusion. 

“Mew…two?” Techno questioned. Phil waved his hand forward in dismissal. 

“It’s some pokemon thing that they collect on their phones. I’m not completely sure myself, but I actually asked Ranboo to clear the table.” Phil replied. Techno’s eyes narrowed. 

“For… what?” He asked slowly, grabbing Wilbur’s hand under the table. Wilbur felt a wave of anxiety rush through him. Was Phil going to tell him to stop being so sensitive? Ask him why Niki and Minx left? 

“Oh, no, nothing bad!” Puffy insisted, speaking fast. Techno’s eyes remained narrowed. “We just wanted to talk to you about… your home?” Techno was already standing up to walk away, Wilbur pushed him back down, giving him a look. 

“We want to organise something.” Phil added, speaking slower than Puffy. “How soon, really depends on you both. If you pass through the semi-finals, we have more time to plan. If you don’t, that’s perfectly fine. This should work either way.” Wilbur took a shaky breath. 

“Could you- could you cut to the plan, please? You’re making me nervous, Phil.” He muttered timidly. Phil nodded, looking over to Puffy. 

“So, we want to set something up in your house. Not hotel room, but when you go home. If we set up a camera to catch the next time something happens. Me and Phil will have access to it. Once something goes wrong, we’ll know. You both lock yourselves into a room until we get there, make sure you take the camera.” She paused to let the twins take in the information. Wilbur was already stressed. He wasn’t sure if he could do that. 

“So you just want us to be bait?” Techno asked, his arms crossed. Phil sucked in a breath. 

“It sounds worse when you put it like that. Think of it this way, this will happen to you multiple more times if you don’t let us help you. If we help you, it only happens one more time. It’s not a flawless plan, it’s dangerous, but it ends with you both safe and out of harm.” The thought of everything that could go wrong made Wilbur’s head spin. 

“What if he finds the camera?” Techno asked, unsure. 

“Let’s just hope that doesn’t happen, yeah?” Phil replied, sounding just as nervous as Wilbur felt. Wilbur met eyes with Techno, they scanned each other’s expressions. They had a language of their own, they could usually gauge what the other was thinking by their facial expression. Techno nodded subtly, he looked nervous too. 

“I-I think we’ll do it.” Wilbur piped up, his face determined. “If it’ll end this, we’ll do it.” Phil’s tensed shoulders fell as he let out a relieved sigh. Puffy smiled faintly. Techno sighed, this had better work.

Chapter Text

Wilbur was a sentimental person. He clung to his past, whether it was good or bad. That was part of the reason why the bad things stung so hard. Most good things that he had was gone now. That included his best friends, Shelby and James. The three of them were inseparable, well, they used to be. Wilbur had slowly drifted away, it wasn’t even his fault. It was his father’s plan, isolate Wilbur and Techno from everyone, get more time to whittle down their free will. Wilbur rolled into bed after another gruelling day of practice, on the verge of tears as pain seared through his weak muscles. Feeling more sentimental than usual, he started looking through his old group-chats. There was one he saw that sent a pang of pain into his heart. 

Wibble, Shelbs, Jimbo

It was their group chat. It was completely devoid of messages, the last one from nine months ago being a sad face from Shelby. Curiosity getting the better of him, he scrolled up. Just a little read couldn’t hurt? 

March 14th -

Jimbo: hey wilbur

Wibble: what?

Jimbo: do you like wendys?

Wibble: there’s no wendys here what do you mean lol

Jimbo: WENDEEZ NUTS GOT EM 

Shelbs: for goodness sake james are you four?

Jimbo: FOUR INCHES DEEP-

Jimbo has been removed from the chat

Wibble: peace at last 

Wilbur rolled his eyes, he had forgotten how often James made those jokes. He missed it, he missed the simple banter. When they used to call and joke every day. The simple times when his mother was still around to defend him and Techno. He missed her a lot too. Things had only gone downhill after she disappeared.

Wibble added Jimbo to the chat

Shelbs: WHY

Shelbs: I HAD FOUND INNER PEACE

Jimbo: L 

Wibble: he asked me to i couldnt say no 

Jimbo: the ladies can’t say no either

Wibble: SHUT UP

Jimbo: damn 

Shelbs: how are you wilbur by the way?

Shelbs: you haven’t been in school this week

Shelbs: just making sure you’re good

Jimbo: he went offline

Shelbs: weird 

Wilbur scrolled further down, he hadn’t talked in the chat since the 14th. He sighed, not wanting to recall that period. The slow isolation. The offhand remarks. 

"They don't like you for you."

"I know what's best."

"Friends take up time."

"You're not worthy of friends like them."

His father was probably right.

March 26 -

Wibble: hi

Shelbs: WILBUR

Jimbo: WIL

Shelbs: we thought you died or something! 

Shelbs: why don’t you and techno ever come in anymore? i’ve been alone in french class without techno :’) 

Jimbo: did you fall into the backrooms

Wibble: yeah sorry i was busy

Jimbo: busy with what? 

Wibble: stuff

Shelbs: is everything okay wil?

Wibble: yeah im fine

Jimbo: do you wanna call

Wibble: cant sorry 

Shelbs: why?

Wibble: got a sore throat

Jimbo: what happened to your throat

Wilbur still vividly remembered what happened to his throat. He didn’t think he’d be able to forget. He’d messed up three times in a row, he had been grabbed by his neck before he could process the moment. There had been a mark there for weeks. 

Wibble: dont wanna talk about it

Shelbs: wilbur im worried

Wibble: im fine i promise

Jimbo: then are you coming in on monday? 

Wibble: dont think so

Shelbs: why?

Wibble: just cant 

Shelbs: wilbur is something going on, answer honestly

Jimbo: he’s fucking offline

Shelbs: james im worried

Jimbo: me too :[

Wilbur had to scroll for a long time to find a chat featuring himself. He had no freetime by then. It was just sleep, or practice. Any parts of the day that didn't entail those two were watched by his father like a hawk.

April 17th - 

Jimbo: wilbur i was going to the doctor for a checkup and i saw you and techno coming out in bandages and crutches and shit wtf happened

Shelbs: WHAT

Wibble: we fell out of a tree

Wibble: we’re fine 

Shelbs: why were you in a tree

Shelbs: and you’re sure you’re okay? 

Wibble: yeah we’re fine

Wibble: i might be coming back to school next week also

Jimbo: really? 

Shelbs: yooooo 

Wibble: i think i can only come in 3 days a week though

Jimbo: why

Shelbs: why? 

Wibble: dunno

Wibble: dad said so

Jimbo: okay

Jimbo: fair enough ig

Wilbur obviously hadn't returned to school that week, considering the worried spam texts that followed their conversation. Once again, Wilbur remembered exactly why. He shuddered at the thought of what had happened that day. All he'd done is raise his voice just a little bit. Techno had made it worse by defending him. He didn't like that part of the mall anymore. 

April 29th -

Shelbs: WILBUR

Jimbo: SOOT 

Shelbs: WILBUR

Jimbo: SOOT 

Shelbs: ARE YOU DEAD OR NOT? 

Wibble: hello

Shelbs: oh my god 

Jimbo: wilbur what the fuck

Shelbs: WHERE WERE YOU? 

Wibble: im in the hospital right now

Wibble: i got hurt

Wibble: bad

Wibble: techno too

Shelbs: oh my god 

Shelbs: oh god are you okay????

Jimbo: WHAT

Jimbo: what happened, how did you get hurt

Jimbo: who do i need to stab

Wibble: im okay

Wibble: i fell off of a wall 

Wibble: techno got hurt trying to catch me

This was obviously a lie, but Wilbur wasn't going to tell them what actually happened. He couldn't tell anyone back then. In his head everything felt like an embarrassment. His life had completely spiraled and he didn't have the courage to ask for help. Maybe if he had, he wouldn't be going through the hell he was now. 

Shelbs: can we come visit???

Shelbs: i literally don't think ive seen your face in like 6 months

Wibble: uhhh

Wibble: i don't know 

Wibble: are visitors allowed in hospitals? 

Jimbo: duh 

Jimbo: course they are dumbass

Jimbo: let us visit you i'll cure you

Wibble: lol 

Wibble: i'll probably have to ask my dad when he visits

Shelbs: he didn't stay with you both??

Wibble: is he allowed to?

Shelbs: yeah! 

Wibble: oh

Their father barely ever bothered to stay in the hospital for more than an hour or two every time they were admitted. He couldn't even pretend to care. The nurses always gave him the nastiest looks. 

April 30th - 

Wibble: hi

Wibble: you can visit tomorrow if you want

Wibble: you don't have to

Wibble: im kind of a mess rn haha

Shelbs: wil i want to see you, mess or not 

Shelbs: ive been really worried 

Wibble: sorry

Wibble: im so sorry 

Jimbo: sorry for what?

Wibble: drifting away 

Wibble: i don't want to lose you both

Shelbs: dont ever apologise again 

Shelbs: whatever is going on i am still here for you

Wilbur vividly remembered bawling for a few hours after reading that text. It was the first time he had heard or read positive words in so long. 

May 1st - 

Shelbs: hi wil we’re on our way is there anything you want? 

Shelbs: like mcdonalds or something

Wibble: no thanks i ate

Wibble: i’ll ask techno 

Shelbs: okay 

Wibble: he wants a milkshake if that’s okay

Shelbs: yeah i can pick one up :] 

Wibble: thanks shelby

Shelbs: np

Shelby and James had arrived not long after. It was a bittersweet reunion considering the venue. Looking back, it should have been obvious to them that something else was going on. Wilbur wondered why they didn't try more. He couldn't blame them, all he did was insist he was fine. 

Shelby gave James an anxious look as they made their way into the hospital room. The fake smile she got from Wilbur’s father immediately put her on alert. That wasn’t a normal friendly smile, there were menacing undertones to it. She didn’t trust it. If she had her doubts about the falling out of a tree story then, it had turned from a doubt to a full on suspicion. 

"Hello Mr Soot!" She greeted, her tone light, but her face twisted into a scowl. She had found her cheery disposition had its uses in more menacing contexts. He didn't respond, just offered a faint nod. Shelby huffed, following James into the room. She didn't trust that man one bit. She was met with the sight of Wilbur lying on a bed, a pipe coming out of his nose and arm. Beside him, was Techno, who was barely awake. His leg was being held up by a brace. Shelby covered her mouth to stifle the gasp that inevitably escaped her. 

"Oh, Wilbur." She whispered, already tearing up. Wilbur smiled weakly.

"It's not as bad as it looks." He insisted, "don't cry Shelby." 

"I'm gonna be honest it looks pretty bad, king." James spoke up, having been silent up until then. He was taking a while to process Wilbur and Techno’s situation. 

"I'm fine." He replied. Shelby and James shared an uncertain look.

"I'm fine. Me and Techno are fine." He repeated, his resolute tone not matching the wince of pain that followed it. 

"Are you okay?" Shelby asked, taking a step forward. She wavered for a moment when she saw him flinch backwards. This wasn't Wilbur. This wasn't the loud, funny, witty Wilbur that threw this head back dramatically every time he laughed. This wasn't the same Wilbur Shelby used to go to school with. This wasn't the shameless boy who would dance around the corridors. Something had happened to Shelby’s Wilbur. 

The group chat was almost completely unused by now. Shelby and James had made multiple attempts at reaching out to him, but he could never bring himself to respond. He knew he would just let them down again. He always did. He was getting to the point there the messages had pretty much stopped. 

August 29th -

Jimbo: i miss wilbur 

Shelbs: me too :(( 

Shelbs: i just hope he's okay. 

Jimbo: me too

Jimbo: i hope he's happy

Jimbo: i hope he's safe

Shelbs: wilbur if you ever come online and read this please text me

Shelbs: i miss you a lot and i want to make sure you're okay 

Jimbo: hes been offline for months, shelby

Shelbs: i know

Shelbs: :( 

'i hope he's happy, i hope he's safe." That broke the dam. A choked sob escaped Wilbur’s chest as he hugged his knees to his chest. He wrapped his arms around his legs as his vision blurred with tears. That last message was 9 months ago, he was long forgotten. He missed his friends. It wasn't fair. A quiet ding from his phone stifled his sobs for a moment. He grabbed it, hoping, praying that someone was online. 

Shelbs is typing… 

Wilbur’s eyes widened, he watched his phone carefully as Shelby stopped and started typing over and over. She was clearly struggling with what to say.

Shelbs: wilbur? is that you online?

Jimbo is typing…

Wilbur practically launched into the air. Both of them came online at a moment's notice. Maybe they did care? Or were they just curious?

Jimbo: holy shit he's online 

Shelbs: he is!!!! 

Shelbs: wilbur say something!!!!

Wilbur didn't know what to say. He had so much to say, so many things to explain. But he would start with an old classic. 

Wibble: hi :] 

Shelbs: WILBUR SOOT!!!!!

Jimbo: WILBUR.

Shelbs: I AM CRYING 

Shelbs: YOU'RE OKAY

Jimbo: holy fucking shit

Wibble: im so sorry

Wibble: i have so much to explain

Shelbs: should i be scared 

Jimbo: …

Wibble: its not good news

Wibble: do you wanna call?

Shelbs: im still crying but yes, fucking yes.

Jimbo: of course i can fucking call we thought you were gone for good king

Wibble: i missed you both a lot, im so sorry

Shelbs: STOP APOLOGISING! 

Shelbs: i missed you so much wil

Jimbo: glad to see you alive king 

Wilbur smiled, just a little. It wouldn't be easy to open up to his first friends, but the fact that they cared was enough. It would always be enough. 

Chapter Text

Wilbur’s legs bounced repeatedly up and down as they pulled into the cafe. His father wouldn’t be back until later that evening so he still had a few hours of freedom. He wouldn’t even dream of asking for a day out with his friends on a normal day. That certainly wouldn’t end well. There were so many rushing through the brunette’s head as he peered out of the slightly open car window, the wind blowing onto his face. He didn’t know how he would react, how they would react. Would they even recognise him? It had been almost a year. He took a deep breath, trying his best to push down the panic rising in his chest. They’re your friends, they know you, it’s fine. There was always the intrusive thought that pushed its way through. But you’ve changed. They might hate the new you. You’re too jumpy, too sensitive, too-

“Wilbur, mate, we’re here.” Phil was smiling patiently at Wilbur from the driver’s seat. “If you need a minute, that’s okay.” He added. Wilbur blinked, he hadn’t realised they’d arrived. 

“Shit. I-I mean, not shit, I mean-” Wilbur stumbled over his words, panicking. Phil laughed quietly. 

“You can swear, Wilbur mate. I’m not the language police, don’t worry.” Wilbur let out a sigh of relief, nodding. 

“Okay, um, thank you Phil. You- you don’t have to come get me, I’ll uh, I can walk.” He stuttered, his voice quiet. Phil looked horrified at the prospect of leaving Wilbur without a ride back. 

“Wilbur, it’s an hour and a half walk to get back to the hotel. I’m not going to leave you to walk home. I’m not that cruel.” 

“Oh.” Wilbur looked confused. What was the catch? “Why?” Phil sighed, not out of frustration, it was a sad kind of sigh. The fact that Wilbur was confused by a menial act of kindness made Phil’s insides ache. 

“Think of it as a favour you don’t have to repay.” Phil replied with a faint smile. Wilbur nodded slowly, a slight confused frown remaining on his face. 

“Okay. I think I’m ready to go now. Uh, I’ll probably be done in an hour or two. If you’re busy at that time, it’s fine, I- I um, I don’t mind walking, honestly.” 

“Have fun, Wilbur mate. I swear to you I will be here when you call me. I’m not letting you walk home.” Phil repeated, waving Wilbur goodbye as the teen stepped out of the car. Phil leaned his head out of the car window for a moment, his voice lowering. “If your Dad calls, tell him to call me.” 

Wilbur’s first reaction when seeing his best friends again was to start crying. He shut his eyes as he was wrapped up in a tight hug. He never wanted them to let go. Wilbur ignored the fact that Shelby could still touch her shoulders despite the fact her arms were wrapped around him. Worrying about weight was for another day. Shelby pulled him out of the hug, grabbing his shoulders and examining him for a moment. 

“You’re thin. You need to eat a lot more.” She commented. “It’s not healthy.” Wilbur sighed, nodding mutely. 

“Hey, uh, man, you’re shaking.” James pointed out quietly. Wilbur lifted his hand, and sure enough it was trembling. 

“Yeah, it does that.” He replied. 

“That’s not- that’s not a normal thing, Wil.” Shelby informed him with a frown. Wilbur nodded again. Nothing about him was normal, was it? He had known as soon as he agreed to meet up that Shelby would be in older sister mode. He had told them everything on call, so they were both being extremely protective. Wilbur already had to insist multiple times through text that his father would not be dropping him off at the cafe, Phil would be. 

They entered the cafe, picking a booth in the corner. Wilbur liked it here, it was quiet, not buzzing with noise or people. Just a few people working on their laptops and another group of friends like them. Wilbur hummed idly, bopping his head to the quiet music playing on the speakers. 

“Should we order something?” Shelby asked, breaking the silence. James nodded. 

“I’ll get a panini and a coffee.” James replied. Shelby nodded, writing his order on her wrist. 

“Okay, I think I’ll just get the pancakes.” Shelby wrote down her order, then they both looked over to Wilbur expectantly. “And you, Wil?” Shelby smiled. Wilbur blinked. 

“Oh, sorry. I’ll just- I’ll just have a glass of water.” He mumbled. He didn’t want, nor have the money for anything else. Shelby frowned. 

“I can pay if you want something else?” She offered. Wilbur shook his head. 

“You’ve gotta have something.” James added, making eye contact with the brunette. Wilbur looked away, uncomfortable. 

“I ate.” He lied. Shelby and James exchanged a look. 

“I’m gonna order you a side of fries.” Shelby muttered, sitting up as the waiter approached the table. Wilbur sat up, trying his best to look normal. ‘Smile, cameras are watching even if you don’t think so. The press is everywhere.’ Wilbur tried to push his father’s advice out of his head as he felt himself become paranoid. His eyes stayed glued to the windows. He was pulled out of his brain fog when he realised people were talking to him. 

“Huh?” He murmured, looking up at the waiter apologetically. The waiter smiled. 

“Oh, I was just asking what you wanted to order? Take your time!” 

“I’ll just have water please.” Wilbur replied, and the waiter’s smile faltered for a moment before being replaced with the service grin again. 

“Okay, one water coming up!” He tilted his head kindly, turning to James and Shelby. “And your orders?” Shelby and James both ordered their food and the waiter nodded. Wilbur squinted at the man’s name-tag. 

“Thank you, uh, Bad.” Wilbur muttered with a faint smile. Bad, what a strange name. 

Their food arrived and Shelby and James tucked in immediately. Wilbur took to looking out the window once again, not wanting to look at the food. Just the smell made him uncomfortable. 

“So Wilbur, how’s ballet?” Shelby asked. Wilbur tried not to wince. 

“It’s, uh, it’s going well! Me and Techno made it through to the semi-finals. The finals are, uh…” Wilbur checked his phone, feeling bile rise in his throat. “...the day after tomorrow.” He finished, feeling weak. 

“Why did you say that like it was a bad thing?” James asked. Wilbur laughed nervously. 

“It’s just the nerves. Just, yeah, just nervous.” He replied, his voice getting progressively more quiet and unsure. Shelby raised an eyebrow.

“Wilbur, we already know everything. Do you not like ballet? Does ballet have anything to do with the isolation and- and the other… stuff?” Wilbur didn’t respond, just rested his head on the table. He didn’t want to think about anything. Shelby sighed, dropping it. “Sorry for pushing it.” She murmured. Wilbur nodded. James pushed the plate of fries over to Wilbur wordlessly, giving him a knowing look. Wilbur stared at them for a few seconds. He really wasn’t hungry, but they both looked so sad. He didn’t want them to leave feeling like him not eating was their fault. He reluctantly grabbed a fry, eating it slowly. Shelby beamed at him. Wilbur felt wrong. 

Once the food was cleared away, Wilbur could focus on acting like a normal person. Conversation had started to flow more naturally, the group making a silent agreement to avoid certain topics. Wilbur was smiling, laughing, his movements becoming more animated as he became more comfortable. 

“And there’s Tommy. I really like Tommy, he said we were like brothers once so it’s like, a bit now. I do kind of see him as a little brother though. I feel like I have to be stronger around him, it’s nice. Then we have Minx, she’s- she’s uh, interesting. Very aggressive but also kinda sweet in her own way. She’s fun to talk to when I’m having a good day. Then there’s Niki, she’s really-” Wilbur paused, his eyes widening. Shelby tilted her head in confusion, looking around the room. 

“Did something happen?” James asked. “Why did you stop?” There was a pause, and Wilbur’s eyes brimmed with tears. Shelby leaned over and pulled Wilbur into a hug. 

“What’s wrong?” She whispered, her voice gentle. Wilbur pointed to the speakers. There was a song playing, Shelby looked confused.

“I-I’m sorry. It’s just…” Wilbur took a deep breath, teardrops falling onto Shelby’s shoulder. “It’s- My mom. She used to sing this song for me and Techno. I just- I thought of her. I- I miss her a lot.” Wilbur’s tears continued to spill as he let out a choked sob. Shelby’s hug tightened, and James joined in. Wilbur shut his eyes, just letting the sobs tear through him as his friends held him close. Wilbur heard his phone ding, he gently pulled himself out of the hug. He felt his insides somersault when he saw who the message ping was from. 

Dad: Your location is on.

Dad: I can see that you’re not at the hotel.

Dad: I’m almost back. Get to the hotel now or else.

Dad: You’re dead meat Wilbur.

“I, um, I have to go.” He mumbled, starting to tremble once again. Shelby frowned. 

“Why so soon?” James asked. “It’s barely been an hour.” 

"I just- I have to go." Wilbur's voice was shaky, panicked. Shelby grabbed his hand as he stood up. 

"Wilbur-" She began. 

"Just let me go!" He yelled, hot tears rolling down his cheeks. She let go, looking hurt. "I'm gonna call Phil." He whispered, staring at his shoes to avoid eye contact. Shelby just stared out the window, ignoring him. 

"Be safe." James mumbled, watching the brunette leave. 

Wilbur walked out to Phil’s car, his eyes glued to the ground. Phil immediately noticed the brunette’s red rimmed eyes. 

“How did it go, mate?” He asked gently. Wilbur spared the man a frustrated glance before burying his head in his hands. Phil nodded to himself, turning back to the wheel. Okay, not in the mood for talking. Phil moved his windshield mirror over slightly to keep an eye on the brunette. “Do you wanna talk about it?" He asked. Wilbur shook his head, sniffling. "Did something happen?" There was a pause. He shook his head. Phil grimaced, he didn't like that pause. "Do you want to stay in with me and Tommy tonight?" Another head shake. Phil sighed, Wilbur obviously wasn't going to budge on this. They pulled into the hotel and Wilbur immediately stepped out of the car, nodding mutely in thanks. His hair was obscuring most of his face. It was to hide the tears, not that Phil knew that. 

"I'll see you tomorrow, mate. If not, I'll see you at the semi-finals." Phil smiled kindly  waving him goodbye. Wilbur just gave him a thumbs up.

"Thanks Phil." He murmured, his voice weak from crying.

"No problem mate." Phil replied, his head slightly tilted. "And you're sure you're alright?" 

"...yeah, m'fine." Wilbur replied quietly, almost inaudible. Phil frowned.

"So, the next time I see you…" He paused, watching Wilbur's body language carefully. "You'll be unharmed?" Wilbur nodded slowly. Phil sighed. He didn't believe that for a second. 

Wilbur let himself into the hotel, already bracing himself for the worst. He squinted slightly, listening carefully for noise. He heard the quiet breaths of a napping Techno, but nothing else. His father wasn't home yet. Wilbur let out a relieved sigh, walking further into the hotel room. All he could do now is just curl up under his blankets and wait for the inevitable. He shouldn't have gone out. 

Wilbur heard the door slam and the vague aroma of alcohol, it was obvious who it was. He began to tremble, hiding further under the covers.

"Wilbur. Come out here." His voice sounded calm to the naked eye, but Wilbur could hear the embedded rage. Despite how every bone in his body told him to run and hide, that would only make things worse. He opened his bedroom door, walking into the main room. 

"Look at me." He demanded. Wilbur reluctantly met eyes with his father. 

"Tell me, what made you think you deserved to go out? What made you think you could disobey one of the only rules we have? You DON'T GO OUT." Wilbur flinched back, whimpering in fear. His father scowled. "Answer my question, Wilbur. You don't get to stay silent in situations like this." 

"I- I- I promised, I- I promised my friends-" Wilbur stumbled over his words, he was already crying. 

"Stop it with the fucking stuttering shit. Speak clearly." He spat. "And there’s another rule you’ve broken. No friends. You're disappointing, Wilbur, you really are." 

"I- I'm sorry. I- I won't-"

"How about we put you into a group home? See if you're sorry then. Maybe you'll finally listen? Stop being such a little brat, maybe. I don't know how much clearer I can be. You follow the rules, and if not…" He trailed off, a smile tracing his lips.

"I- I'm sorry, just, please- please don't hurt me." Wilbur whispered, biting back a sob. 

"You won't learn any other way. Your mother tried for years to teach you both. This is the only way you'll listen." He took a step forward, Wilbur covered his head, screaming in agony as a familiar pain rushed through his body. He fell to the floor. 

"I'M SORRY! PLEASE, I'M SORRY!" He begged, before feeling a pain worse than the rest, and then there was black.

Wilbur woke up and immediately cried out in agony. His head. He felt someone startle beside him. It was Techno. He let out a relieved sigh. 

"Wilbur. Oh God. I'm so sorry. I was asleep. I could have helped you, I just heard you screaming, by the time I ran out you were already unconscious. Dad just glared at me and said he was going to the bar." Wilbur tried to lift his head, immediately giving up upon realising how weak he was. 

"Wh-" Wilbur paused, struggling to form words. "Wh- ha- p- I?" He closed his eyes, feeling drowsy. 

"You hit your head. You're not concussed, I checked." Techno replied, understanding the brunette's gibberish. Wilbur was already asleep. Techno placed his head in his hands, holding back tears as his twin took in shaky breaths. Life really wasn't fair, was it? 

"You deserve more than this." He whispered. 

"B-both do." Wilbur murmured in response, and Techno was unsure if he was awake or not. Techno just sighed, resting his head on the pillow as he tried to sleep with the little room left on the bed. Maybe a few tears rolled onto that pillow, but no one but Techno had to know that. 

Chapter Text

“Do it again, that was sloppy. Don’t make more excuses, I don’t care if your head hurts.” Their father spat. Wilbur held back a pained cry as he positioned himself to redo the routine. He couldn’t take much more over-exertion. Techno completed the routine effortlessly, bowing once he was done. Wilbur sighed shakily, grabbing onto his twin’s shoulder for support. 

“Just once more.” Techno whispered. “Just do it right and you’re done.” Wilbur nodded, leaping forward into a pirouette. He held it for a few seconds, just spinning, and spinning, ignoring the nausea swimming in his stomach. Pulling himself out of the pirouette, he started to see spots in his vision. He brushed it off, focused on the task at hand, which was finishing the routine. The nausea in his stomach was getting progressively worse, and the spots had started to blur his vision. The next thing he remembered was his head crashing onto the floor and Techno’s scream. 

Wilbur's eyes shot open, and he flinched back, in a daze. Techno was panicking and his father was sitting on a bench outside the studio, completely removed from the situation. He spared Wilbur an icy glare, and he left. It was just him and Techno, now.. Techno’s arm was supporting his head, and he was lying flat. 

"W-what happened?" Wilbur stammered, his eyes glossed over. 

"Wilbur, you had a seizure." Techno replied, sounding shaken. Wilbur's heart dropped. A seizure? Wilbur didn't get seizures. Only old people or people with epilepsy did. That didn't make sense.

"I-it couldn't have been. I don't get seizures." He whispered in disbelief. 

Techno bit his lip. "Minx told me what her seizures were like, and it was exactly what you just did. It was a seizure." Oh. That was… worrying. 

"For how long?" Wilbur asked, still slightly out of it. 

"Almost 5 minutes. I was freaking out. Minx said you have to call an ambulance when they go over 5." Techno replied, and Wilbur noticed he was trembling. Techno rarely panicked like that. It must have been bad. 

Wilbur hesitated for a moment  unsure whether he wanted the answer to this question. "...What did Dad do?" Techno clenched his fists, his face twisting into a scowl. 

"He just… walked away. He didn't even care. " He was seething. Wilbur felt a pang of hurt. He didn't even care when Wilbur was convulsing on the floor. Wilbur didn't know why he expected him to. His mother would have cared, she would have made him feel important. She would have looked after him. Wilbur suddenly became aware of the fact he was wrapped up in a warm hug. The next thing he noticed was that he was crying. Oh. He hadn't even realized. 

"It'll be okay." Techno soothed, his tone not backing up the words he was saying. He sounded uncertain, afraid. "We'll be okay."

Wilbur wanted to believe him. He really did.  

Once they had arrived back at the hotel, Wilbur sat down to check his phone. There were a few spam emails, claiming he had won a cash prize. "If only." He murmured to himself. If he had money he would leave, forget about ballet. He would heal. Any money made from ballet competitions and press opportunities just went to their father. There was an influx of messages from Tommy. 

Toms :D: WILBAAAA

Toms :D: WILLIAM SOOTICUS

Toms :D: YOU AND TESCOBLADE COME FOR DAY BEFORE SEMI FINALS DUNCH

Toms :D: (dinner and lunch) 

Toms :D: 3PM! 

Toms :D: PHIL IS MAKIN FOOD IN THE HOTEL

Toms :D: THE WHOLE GANG IS COMIGN 

Toms :D: ppleeeeeaaaaaaseeee? 

Toms :D: dont let little brother tommyinnit down :[ 

Wilbur: uhhh sure

Wilbur: why not

Toms :D: YAAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYYAAY

Toms :D: we will create mischief 

Toms :D: also minx says she wants to apologise for sumthin

Toms :D: dunno what but yea

Wilbur: ok cool 

Wilbur: can we uhh 

Wilbur: how do i put this

Toms :D: im listening, big dubz

Wilbur: can we take it easy?

Wilbur: like

Wilbur: aaa i don't know how to say this without sounding like a dick 

Toms :D: just say it

Wilbur: can you turn down your tommy-ness? 

Wilbur: oh that sounds really mean

Toms :D: HAHAHAHA nono i get it

Toms :D: i will tone down my chaos for you king 

Toms :D: did you know

Toms :D: most people find me annoying at first wilbur soot

Wilbur: you're not annoying, tommy

Toms :D: big man im flattered, but i absolutely am
Toms :D: i wake up and make a conscious effort to be annoying
Wilbur: you are a child
Toms :D: you are a prick
Wilbur: love you too 

Toms :D: i am so powerful

Toms :D: i will gain all of the loev and adoration and then betray you

Wilbur took a deep breath, reminding himself that it was a joke. Tommy won’t betray you. The Watsons won’t hurt you. He couldn’t ignore the unease in his chest after reading it, though. 

Wilbur: how do you spell ‘adoration’ perfectly but misspell ‘love’ 

Toms :D: natural talent 

Wilbur: ok i have to go get ready

Toms :D: GOODBYE WILLIAM

Wilbur ended up going to the ‘dunch’ alone. Techno said his nerves were shot and he wanted to stay at the hotel, and Wilbur wouldn’t push. He knocked on the door quietly, sighing. Tommy immediately tore the door open, startling Wilbur. He coughed to mask his flinch. Tommy’s smile faltered for a moment, but he pretended not to notice. 

“Hey Wilbur, mate!” Phil yelled, poking his head out from the kitchen. “Where’s Techno?” 

Wilbur ran his fingers through his hair, biting his lip. “He, um, he was tired. Couldn’t make it.” Tommy frowned. Phil looked troubled about something, he walked closer to the door. 

“Wilbur, you look a bit…” He hesitated. Wilbur tilted his head. “You look dishevelled, mate. Is everything okay?” 

Wilbur tilted his head further, confused. “What does- what does dis..ev..” 

“You look like shit, big man.” Tommy cut in, earning a murderous glare from Phil. Wilbur flushed, averting eye contact. 

“No, no, I’m alright.” He mumbled. “Just, uh, tired. Yeah. Just tired.” There was a moment of silence. Wilbur was already feeling overwhelmed. Phil noticed, clearing his throat. 

“Tommy, how about you go watch a movie with Wil until the food is ready? I’m pretty sure there’s a DVD player in your room.” He gave Tommy a knowing look. Tommy nodded with a grin. 

“C’mon Wil!” He sprinted across the hotel room and dived onto his bed. Wilbur slowly walked over to the room, gasping quietly when he almost lost his balance. Hopefully no one noticed. 

“What movies do you like?” Tommy asked. Wilbur hummed, thinking. After a few moments, he shrugged. 

“I never really get to watch movies.” He muttered, to Tommy’s utter shock. 

“HOW?” He screamed jokingly, throwing his arms out for dramatic effect, as he always did. Wilbur covered his head instinctively, his eyes widening. Tommy’s eyes also widened, and they stared at each other for a few seconds, although it felt like an hour for Tommy. 

“What’s-?” Tommy stammered. “What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing. Nothing, I just flinched.” Wilbur replied, stiffening. Tommy’s lip trembled. 

“You always flinch.” He murmured sadly. “Techno, too. People don’t flinch unless they have a reason to. You think I don’t notice? I do. I see more than Phil, or Puffy or anyone thinks. I want to know what’s wrong! Why does no one tell me anything?” Wilbur curled up into a ball and burst into tears. Tommy bit his lip, tears rolling down his cheeks. He shuffled over to the brunette and wrapped him up in a hug. 

“I’m sorry. I pushed it too far.” He whispered into Wilbur’s ear. Wilbur shook his head as a sob tore out of his throat. 

“N-no. Y-you d-deserve to- to know.” He blubbered. Tommy felt a strange shock run down his spine, like someone had electrocuted his bones. Seeing his older brother figure breaking down in front of him, it was rough. "I- I haven't had the- the easiest life. I- my Dad, he hits me and Techno. Phil is- he's trying to help us, but it's just- I'm, um, I can- I can deal with it. It's- it's fine. I'm-" Wilbur covered his eyes as he started to sob once again. Tommy hugged the brunette tighter, and Wilbur leaned into the touch. He had forgotten what friendly contact felt like. He relished in the hug for a few minutes, when pulled himself away in a panic as he could see the dots beginning to spot his vision once again. Tommy’s eyes widened in concern. 

"Wilbur? Are you oka-" Tommy let out a blood curdling scream as Wilbur fell backwards off of the bed, hitting his head on the floor as he landed. "WILBUR!" Tommy grabbed the convulsing teen as he had his second seizure of that day, not that Tommy knew that. "DAD!" Tommy screamed, his voice ripping through the room. Wilbur had started to foam at the mouth. Tommy screamed for Phil once again. Seconds later, he heard footsteps sprinting into the room. Phil rushed over, grabbing Wilbur’s head. Minx covered her mouth as a wail escaped her. Niki tried to cover her eyes. 

"M-Minx, don't look." Niki whispered in a panic. Puffy was holding Tubbo and Ranboo out of the room as they yelled in protest. Niki gently dragged a hyperventilating Tommy out of the room. 

"Minx, start a stopwatch. Tell me if we get close to 5 minutes." Phil ordered. Minx nodded, running to get her phone. "Niki, call Techno." Niki nodded, dialing his number. Phil looked down, hearing a pained whimper from Wilbur. Phil teared up a little bit. "It's going to be okay, mate." He whispered. Wilbur’s eyes started to flutter. 

"He's- he's going…" Wilbur’s speech started to slur.

"Who's going where?" Phil asked patiently. Wilbur cried out in pain again. Blue eyes met brown as Wilbur looked up, dazed. 

"He's- he's going to- he's gonna hurt- hurt me. D-don't let… him…" Wilbur’s eyes slowly shut as he passed out in Phil's arms. Phil gently set him down on Tommy’s bed. 

"Minx, call an ambulance. I don't know if this has happened before and I need to be safe." Phil asked, running his fingers through his hair as he sighed. This wasn't exactly the plan for the evening. He looked down at Wilbur, who was breathing softly, still unconscious. As if he didn't have enough to deal with, seizures too. 

Wilbur woke up surrounded by people, in a hospital. He whimpered in fear and covered his eyes, getting the mental image of surgeons standing over his broken leg, years ago. 

"Stand back, everyone. Don't overwhelm him." Phil took a step back. "Glad to see you awake, Wilbur mate." Wilbur smiled faintly, already feeling his consciousness slipping again. 

Wilbur woke up after what felt like minutes, but it had been hours. The room was completely dark aside from the faint glow of the streetlights phasing through the venetian blinds. The hospital room was empty aside from Techno curled up on an armchair, asleep. Wilbur shuffled in discomfort as he moved around the springy mattress. He felt like crying, so he did. He heard Techno startle on the armchair, shuffling over to his twin. Techno wrapped him up in a loose hug, not wanting to disrupt the wires sticking out of Wilbur’s arm. 

"What's wrong with me?" Wilbur whispered, his voice hoarse. 

"The doctors are trying to figure that out." Techno replied with a grimace. Wilbur didn't respond, just shut his eyes and fell into deep thought. Suddenly, his eyes shot open in a panic. 

"What about the semi-finals?" He asked, an edge to his voice. Techno clenched his fists together, trying to hide his tremble. Wilbur felt his heart drop. "T-Tech?" 

"Dad text me." He said simply. "They can't delay the tournament anymore. We're done. We've been eliminated." He sounded numb. Wilbur remained silent, stewing in his growing panic, letting it build up until he cried out. Techno’s eyes widened as Wilbur’s heart monitor started to beep faster and faster until a quiet siren was blaring. 

"Wilbur. Wilbur, calm down. It's gonna be okay, Wilbur. It's going to turn out okay, I won't let Dad hurt y-" Wilbur grabbed Techno's shoulders, his eyes wide and unfocused. 

"He's going to kill me, Technoblade. I've ruined my last chance." Techno's eyes darted to the side, feeling unsettled. 

"Wilbur, I won't let-" Techno felt someone grab his arm as nurses rushed him out of the room. Wilbur’s heart rate monitor was going too fast. Techno heard Wilbur's panicked screams and the nurses telling Wilbur to breathe as the door shut. Techno never liked hospitals. 

Chapter Text

Wilbur was fully convinced this was the last time he would see any of them as he hugged Phil goodbye. He swallowed back the lump in his throat, just relishing in the moment. Phil slipped the camera carefully into Wilbur’s hoodie pocket, giving him a knowing look. 

“Be safe, please.” His voice was higher than usual, his eyes glossed over with tears threatening to fall. “Call me.” Wilbur nodded, knowing he probably wouldn’t get the chance to. 

“I hope you win.” Wilbur mumbled. “You all deserve to win.” 

“You and Techno should have won, it was just bad timing. Don’t sell yourself short.” Phil grabbed Wilbur’s shoulders gently, looking deep into the brunette’s eyes. Wilbur nodded, disagreeing internally, it was better not to argue. He had never lost before, it was his fault. 

“I’ll miss you, Phil. I’m glad I met you all.” To Wilbur’s surprise and confusion, Phil’s face was laced with panic after he said that.

“Wilbur, this isn’t a forever goodbye, you know that, right?” Wilbur felt like Phil’s eyes were staring right into his brain. His broken, broken brain. Wilbur just hummed vaguely, not confirming or denying. 

“Goodbye, Phil.” He mumbled, walking over to the door where his father and Techno were waiting. His father had a fake smile plastered on his face, as always. He gave Tommy and the others a timid wave, smiling faintly. He didn’t want them to worry, but the stress lines creasing Phil and Puffy’s faces said that he had failed. 

The car ride home was suffocating, no words were spoken. Just tolled breaths and worried glances. Wilbur pressed himself as far away from the driver’s seat as he could, out of arm’s reach. He closed his eyes, whispering to himself the things Phil would say after he had woken up from a nightmare. You’re safe. You deserve good things. You’re not hurting. The words didn’t really have any effect, because they weren’t true. Wilbur would be unharmed for 2 more hours, at most. They would come home, Wilbur would curl up and just let it happen. Techno would fight back, he always tried to. But even the strongest of people crumble eventually. It felt horrific to say, but Wilbur preferred when he passed out. At least he got some sleep. His father had a white knuckle grip on the car's wheel. No doubt that grip will be wrapped around your neck- 

Stay focused, stay alive. Stop thinking. 

Wilbur leaped out of the car before it had even come to a full stop, sprinting into the house. Techno followed, his movements more sluggish and hopeless. Wilbur locked the door once Techno had walked in. Their father had keys, but it would buy a few seconds. He heard his father's footsteps bounding towards the door, and the sound of clanking keys. Wilbur sprinted over to the bookshelf, turning Phil's live camera on, slotting it between two books. He gave the camera a weak smile and a thumbs up. Wilbur startled when their father entered, the colour draining from his face when he saw the man's livid expression. Techno’s eyes narrowed, and he stepped in front of his twin. 

"Why are you standing by the bookshelf?" He asked, his tone measured, yet Wilbur could hear the angry undertones. 

"Uh- books- just, reading, yaknow.." Wilbur took a step back, covering the camera with his back. 

"What's over there?" He pressed on, narrowing his eyes at Wilbur’s petrified expression. "You've got something to hide, don't you?" 

"No! I- I wouldn't, I would never-" Wilbur instinctively took a step back, distancing himself from the confrontation. Wilbur watched in horror as the camera fell off of the bookshelf before he could stop it. Wilbur looked up slowly, waiting for his father to speak. Techno clenched his fists. Wilbur’s stomach was twisting in unbearable fear. 

"A camera?" Their father reported, a sadistic smile tracing his lips. "That's funny. You thought you could hide a camera? After everything I do for you both, you place cameras? We have nothing to hide. Everyone knows that you both deserve what happens to you. It's your punishment." Wilbur looked down at the camera, and back up at his father. There was a long pause, a painful pause. Wilbur grabbed the camera and desperately dived towards his bedroom, trying to get away. He cried out in pain as his father's hand wrapped around his chest. Wilbur’s breath caught in his throat as he watched the camera slide across the room.

"N-no, no, I'm sorry! I promise I won't try to- I won't- I would never-" He stopped speaking abruptly as a hand clasped around his neck. Wilbur tried to scream, but only a strangled gurgle escaped him. He limply grabbed the hands wrapped around his neck and tried to pry them away as more and more air escaped his lungs. He felt his eyes roll into the back of his head just as his father let go, shoving him onto the floor. Wilbur fell back with an agonized whimper, grabbing his neck, gasping for air. Techno, who had been froze in place with fear up until that point, tried to tackle their father to the floor. 

"LEAVE HIM ALONE!" He screamed, throwing a punch that he missed. Their father pushed Techno onto the hard tile, and Wilbur heard an ugly, wet crack as Techno hit the floor. He gagged, crawling over to his twin. 

"T-Tech- Techno, stand- stand up. Get up!" He begged, shaking the teen. "TECHNO GET UP." He demanded, screaming. 

"Have you learned yet?" Their father asked quietly, not an ounce of regret in his voice. Wilbur let out a strangled cry as he continued to shake his unconscious brother. 

"I don't think you'll ever learn. It's a shame, what I have to do. You both could have been great." Wilbur's breath caught in his throat again as he realised what that implied. Past tense. Could have been. Wilbur watched in horror as his father walked into the kitchen, his mind spinning with possibilities, none good. Knives, glass, things you can hit with. It wasn't looking good. But Wilbur Soot knew one thing: He wasn't fucking dying today. He grabbed Techno, slinging the teen over his shoulder. He didn't know how, but he would thank the adrenaline later. He grabbed the camera, running into his bedroom and locking the door. Wilbur set Techno down on his bed, looking into the camera. 

"I- I don't know if the camera has audio. P-Phil, please come. I- I think he's gonna- He's-" Wilbur screamed as a knife plunged through Wilbur’s bedroom door. The same door Wilbur’s back was pressed against. He sucked in a shocked breath, eyes wide as he felt warm blood flowing down his back.  He dropped the camera and fell onto his knees, gasping for air as if someone had cut his lungs out. It didn't hurt, thanks to the adrenaline and Wilbur needed to utilise that before he bled out. The only way out was the window. The two story, tall window. Wilbur grabbed the camera again and started desperately shaking Techno. Their father was bashing at the door now, on the verge of pulling it off its hinges.

"THERE’S NO WAY OUT!" He screamed as Wilbur startled once again. Wilbur focused every ounce of his effort into trying to wake Techno. 

"Please… I can't carry you…" Wilbur’s eyelids started to flutter; he couldn't give in.

He looked down at the substantial fall from the window, it was a long way down. Broken bones for sure. But, Wilbur didn't have a choice. It was either broken bones and a bleeding stab wound, or death. Wilbur grabbed Techno, holding him up with the little strength he had left. 

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I love you." He whispered as his brother plunged out of the window. He landed on the grass below with a thump. The grass was extremely overgrown, so hopefully it cushioned the fall.  Wilbur slung his leg over the window, feeling a wave of vertigo rush over him as he was about to jump. He could feel the blood seeping through his hoodie. He had to jump now. The door was starting to buckle under the pressure of the blunt force punching it. Thank fuck it's a thick door Wilbur thought to himself. And then he jumped. 

Wilbur landed on the long grass, his fall surprisingly soft apart from a winded stomach and a twisted arm. It was better than what could have happened. He was still mobile. He sifted through the grass, desperately looking for the camera. He saw the shining lens peeking out of the weeds. Grabbing it, he crawled over to Techno, who was still unconscious. Wilbur was getting more and more sleepy as time went on. He wanted to rest… for a little while. It couldn't hurt, could it? 

Wilbur vaguely registered being roughly grabbed by someone and dragged along the grass, it hurt. Moments later he heard blaring sirens, and the grip was relinquished. There were people shouting. He heard his father's voice screaming back at someone. Not him not him please no I thought I got away, please- Wilbur’s eyelids fluttered, he was on the brink of unconsciousness. He felt himself being grabbed again, but the grip was much lighter, more gentle. He leaned into the touch, whimpering in pain. 

"You did so good, mate." He heard someone mumble. "You did so well.” Their voice was light, sounding like someone holding in tears. Wilbur couldn’t make out who it was at that moment, he was too tired. “Don’t close your eyes. Just stay awake for a little longer and everything will be okay. Focus on my voice, block out the sirens, the noises, just focus on me.” Wilbur used the last ounce of his energy to open his eyes. Phil. He came. 

“I- I got the-” Wilbur started to cough, blood spilling out of his mouth. “I- got the cam-camera. I- I got it.” Phil nodded with a sad smile. 

“You did. You got it and I’m so proud of you.” Wilbur smiled faintly, coughing again. His eyes widened as he felt himself being moved onto a stretcher. 

“W-where am I going? P-Phil! Phil!” Wilbur cried out in agony as the adrenaline wore off. Phil stood up, walking beside the stroller. 

“I’m following the ambulance, I’ll be right there when you wake up. They’re taking you to the hospital to get you patched up. I’ll be there. I’m not going anywhere.” He assured the delirious teen as he sobbed. He stopped following the stretcher, watching Wilbur and Techno be placed into the ambulance. Wilbur’s agonised roars rang in Phil’s ears as it drove away. 

Wilbur was walking through his house in the middle of the night, trying to be as quiet as possible. He was just so hungry, he needed to eat something. So here he was, sneaking into the kitchen in the dead of night. He knew by now which floorboards creaked, which bits of carpet were more worn than others, how to walk on the pads of his feet without making a sound. One thing he didn’t count on were the motion sensor lights that lit up the entire hall and his father’s bedroom. Wilbur froze in horror as he realised what he had done. He didn’t walk around the sensor. He turned hopelessly to run back to his room, but his hand had already been grabbed and he was punched in the waist. Falling onto the floor, he cried out in pain, looking up at his father in terror.

“Why are you out of bed?” He asked, his head tilted sadistically.

“I- I was- I was, um, I was hungry.” Wilbur whispered, practically inaudible. A cruel laugh was his response. 

“You think you deserve food? You haven’t even earned the right to sleep this week, I’m just being nice.” There was a long pause, and Wilbur curled up onto a ball, trembling. “But, as always, I give you an inch…” Another long pause, his father knelt down, uncomfortably close. “And you take a fucking mile.” He spat, slapping the brunette across the face. Wilbur-

-woke up with someone pressed against his side, and someone holding his hand. His initial reaction was panic, because in his head, the gentle grip on his hand was a rough squeeze, and the head breathing quietly on his side was a fist, going right into his stomach. He shot up with a scream. Who is near me? Get away get away, too close, no, no get away get away- He tried to sit up, crying out when pain shot through his entire body. Two blonde heads shot up, eyes wide, looking sleepy. 

“Wilbur? Are you okay?” Tommy asked as Wilbur started to wail, still not completely lucid. Wilbur pulled his hands up to his hair, pulling at the strands until his nails dug into his scalp. He tucked his head into his knees, hyperventilating. 

“P-please- please don’t- don’t- I’ll be good, I- I promise!” He whimpered, shaking. Phil bit his lip. 

“Wilbur? Can you hear me?” Phil asked gently. Wilbur pushed his nails further into his scalp, drawing blood. Phil gently pried his hands away. Wilbur flinched away from the touch, his heart beating out of his chest. “Wilbur? Wil, you’re in the hospital, you’ve been here for a week. This is the first time you’ve woken up, you’re recovering from a stab wound in your back and a broken arm. Your father is arrested, you’re safe. I’m Phil, I helped you, Tommy is beside me, you know Tommy, don’t you? Can you nod for me Wilbur?” Wilbur nodded shakily, high pitched sobs escaping his lungs. 

“J-just don’t- please don’t…” Wilbur trailed off, his hands creeping back to his scalp. Phil placed his hand gently on Wilbur’s head, blocking it from further harm. 

“Wilbur, I will never hurt you. Ever.” Phil replied, his voice resolute. Tommy nodded vigorously. Wilbur lifted his head weakly, revealing his red, puffy eyes and bleeding lip. Phil held in his rage. He was going to make sure their father never got out of jail.

Chapter Text

Wilbur woke up with a frightened yelp as he was pulled away from his fifth nightmare of the night. Heart beating out of his chest, his eyes darted over to Techno, who was still sleeping. The room was pitch black, apart from the dim light of the solar lamp above the outside window shining through the venetian blinds. Wilbur tried to focus on the beating of his heart, breathing slowly. 

“You are real.” He whispered to himself. “This is real life. He’s in jail.” Wilbur couldn’t help but feel a wave of terror despite the fact he knew his father wasn’t anywhere near the hospital. It didn’t stop his mind drifting to the possibility that he could. He pulled his duvet up to his chin, trying to stifle the shiver running through his spine. His breathing started to pick up once again, his eyes darting to anything that moved even an inch. He wanted to wake up Techno, have someone assure him that he was safe, but he didn’t want to be a bother. He closed his eyes, desperately trying to keep a steady rhythm of breathing as his lungs started to beg for air. A weak sob tore out of him as more memories of his father rushed through his head. He covered his mouth with his hands, trying to stifle his cries as Techno stirred in his sleep. As if on queue, someone in the room next door coughed loudly, startling Wilbur. He shrieked in alarm, waking Techno up. Techno leaped out of bed immediately, grabbing his crutch and stumbling over to Wilbur's bed. Wilbur had covered his head with his hands, hyperventilating.

"Wilbur, I'm here. It's okay." Techno whispered gently. "There's nothing to be scared of, okay? I'm with you, no one else is around." Wilbur held out his hand weakly, trembling. Techno cupped his hands around it and shushed his twin comfortingly. "You don't have to talk. It's okay. Everything is okay. It's all gonna be fine. Alright?" Wilbur nodded shakily, stifled sobs tearing out of his throat as he buried his head under the duvet. Techno pulled him into a hug, with Wilbur melting into the touch. He buried his head into Techno’s shoulder, just letting his emotions spill out. He cried until his throat felt raw, just letting all of his pent up fear and trauma out in one big heaving sob. Techno drew circles onto his back with his finger, shushing him gently. "It's okay, it's okay. Just let it out." Techno started quietly humming songs to Wilbur, and his sobs turned into soft whimpers. Techno felt Wilbur sink into his side, his eyelids fluttering. Techno loosened his embrace, letting Wilbur fall back onto his pillow, asleep. 

“You don’t have to say anything you’re not comfortable with, mate.” Phil told Techno gently as they waited for the social worker to enter. Wilbur was curled up, asleep on the bench. His head was resting on Puffy’s lap. “They’re only here to help, if you’re uncomfortable at any point then we can stop.” Techno nodded mutely, staring at the door. He didn’t want to be here. Wilbur hadn’t spoken since they left the hospital, he looked constantly terrified. Techno was scared too, but he couldn’t show it. Puffy offered him a weak smile, which he returned halfheartedly. 

“How are you feeling, Techno?” She asked quietly. 

“Fine. Is Wilbur okay?” He replied tightly, not letting any emotions leak into his tone. Puffy frowned. 

“Wilbur is fine, he’s sleeping. We’re not talking about Wilbur now, alright? Are you okay?” Techno sighed. It didn’t matter how he felt, he was fine. It didn’t matter how much he hated the smell of this room, how it reminded him of hospitals and the pain he felt whenever he was in one. It didn’t matter how terrified he was of everyone who moved towards him, or that he felt like he was going to burst into tears at any moment. It didn’t matter that he just wanted to sleep. So he stayed silent, just giving Puffy a shaky nod. Techno was fine. He had to be. 

Techno held back a flinch when the door opened, Wilbur woke up with a jump, letting out a startled yelp. The social worker that had just entered took a step back, their face in an oops expression. They had brown hair, and they were wearing a beanie even though it was warm outside. They were wearing a black and white striped turtleneck with black jeans. Wilbur noticed she had rainbow pins on her top. One pin said “all pronouns!” which confused him. 

“Oh! I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you, I should have opened the door quieter. I forget about how loud this door is.” They patted the door with their hand, smiling brightly. They sat down on the armchair opposite Wilbur and Techno. “I’m Aimsey. I use all pronouns, you can just use they and them if you don’t understand. I’m a social worker and I’m here to help you both out!” Techno’s eyes narrowed, and Wilbur buried his head into Puffy’s shoulder. Aimsey took it in their stride though, not letting the lack of response bother them. “Oh, and yes, of course. Neither of you have to talk if you’re not comfortable. We can write, type, or we can reschedule.” Techno cleared his throat, scanning Aimsey’s expression. 

“I can talk.” He said quietly. Wilbur tilted his head, feeling slightly more confident once he knew Techno didn’t deem them a threat. Aimsey beamed at Techno. 

“Okay, perfect. Now, we’ll start off with easy questions. As soon as you start feeling overwhelmed, please let me know and we’ll stop. First off, do you have any questions to ask me?” Wilbur coughed nervously, avoiding eye contact with Aimsey.

“Um, what happens to us- um…” Wilbur paused, struggling with his words. 

“Take your time.” Aimsey assured him, and he nodded. 

“What happens to us, uh, after this? Where do we go? We don’t- um, we don’t go back to… um-” He trailed off, looking uncomfortable. Puffy gave his shoulders a reassuring squeeze. Aimsey furrowed her brow, trying to decipher what he had said. Their eyes widened after a moment, and they shook their head vigorously. 

“No. You’re never going back to him. Never.” Aimsey’s bright voice had lowered significantly, their  tone deadly serious. “You don’t have to worry about any of that, anymore.” 

“Oh.” Wilbur replied, his voice breaking. He didn’t know why that made him cry. He knew it was a relief, but he wasn’t sure how to feel. Aimsey smiled sadly. 

“You’ll be going to a temporary foster home. I believe that Phil here is looking to foster you both, but he needs to be accessed first. I promise you that your foster home will be nice, nothing like the living environments you’re both used to.” Wilbur covered his mouth, trying to hold in more tears that were threatening to fall. His father had always said that foster homes were the worst possible outcome. That’s why they never said anything. Why did I say anything? Wilbur thought to himself, feeling his shoulders tense with panic. Techno moved closer to him, giving him a look. 

“It’s going to be okay.” He whispered, giving Wilbur a resolute nod. “We can handle it, can’t we?” Wilbur looked down at the floor, unsure. He took a deep breath, nodding shakily. 

“If you need a moment, I can go for a bit?” They asked quietly. Wilbur shook his head timidly. 

“No, it’s um- it’s okay. It was just a bit surprising to hear. I’m okay.”  

“Okay. Any more questions?” There was a short pause, with the twins just staring at them. “No? Right then, let’s get started.” 

Once they had left, they were led to a car with Aimsey. Wilbur felt apprehensive, but Phil assured him it would be okay. He hugged him and Puffy goodbye, and got into the car with Techno. 

“We’re going to your foster home now, okay? His name is Sam, he’s lovely.” Aimsey’s chirpy tone dropped again as they spoke. “I made sure of it.” Wilbur shifted anxiously in his seat. He hoped Sam was as nice as Aimsey said he was. But Wilbur had learned pretty early on that adults were never as nice as they presented themselves as being. At least he had Techno. 

"Are you gonna get up?" Techno asked gently, his voice laced with worry. 

"No." Wilbur replied, his eyes shut. He had been slipping in and out of nightmares for the past 4 hours. It was 6PM. 

Techno pursed his lips, giving Wilbur an unreadable look. "Why?" 

"No point." The brunette replied monotonously, opening his eyes.

"How is there 'no point', Wil? You can't just lie here forever!" Techno snapped, there were pleading undertones to his voice.

"Why would I get up if I just have to lie back down in a few hours? There is no point." He snapped back, his voice weak. Techno turned his head from the window to look at his twin. Wilbur’s eyes used to be a warm chocolate, they were a dull greyish-brown now. Techno sighed shakily, swallowing back the lump in his throat. 

"But you haven't eaten. You need to eat." 

Techno was begging. 

"Not hungry." Wilbur grumbled. Techno placed his head in his hands. 

"Wilbur, you're scaring me." He whispered. Wilbur lifted his head up, eyes wide. He was… scaring Techno?

"I'm sorry." Wilbur whispered back, his voice breaking. He covered his mouth as tears rolled down his cheeks. "I really can't get up, Techno." His voice dragged, like he was struggling to find the energy to sleep. Techno pulled Wilbur into a hug, and he leaned into the touch. 

"Are you sick?" He asked quietly. Wilbur shook his head.

"Not physically." He droned in response, staring forward as his head dropped back onto the pillow. 

"It's gonna be okay, you know that. You know that, don't you?" Techno's voice was light as he tried to hold in tears. Wilbur pursed his lips, resting his head on Techno’s shoulder. He never responded. 

Techno had helped Wilbur through depressive episodes before, but never one this bad. Wilbur wasn't eating, barely drinking, and he couldn't get out of bed. Techno brought him food, kept him company, and Sam was nice enough to supply them with a TV and an Xbox. Wilbur watched Techno play most of the time, his head partially covered by the duvet he had wrapped around himself like a cocoon. His eyelids were brown with exhaustion, even though he had been mostly sleeping. Techno handed Wilbur a remote silently, nodding. Wilbur pushed it back into the teen’s hand, shaking his head. 

"I think I just want to sleep." He murmured, his voice dry and raspy. Techno frowned. 

"Have you drunk the water?" He asked, seeing the bottle of water on the nightstand. "Drink the water." There was a beat of silence.

"I'm not thirsty." Wilbur replied, sinking further into the duvet.  Another beat.

"I'm telling you to drink the water." Techno repeated, his voice firm. Wilbur stared at Techno for a few moments, analysing his expression. He sighed, grabbing the water and taking a swig. 

"Why are you doing this?" He whispered, staring at his hands. Techno opened his mouth to speak, closing it again, confused. "Why are you staying in here, I mean. Sam is nice, you could be helping him around the house or something, why are you here?" He elaborated, feeling anxious when he saw Techno’s expression fall.

"Wil- Wilbur, you're my brother. I'm not letting my brother go through this shit alone. We've been through a fuck ton together, I'm not going to give up now just because we're 'safe.' Do you understand?" Techno put down the remote, moving along the bed, closer to Wilbur. The brunette's lip trembled. 

“I don’t need help. I’m fine.” Wilbur insisted, his entire demeanour disproving his point. “I’m just tired, I promise.” 

“Wilbur.” Techno gave Wilbur a knowing look, not breaking eye contact. Wilbur sunk more into the duvet until he was completely covered apart from a few tufts of his unkempt hair peeking through. “Wil.” Techno repeated. Wilbur sighed shakily, curling up under the blankets. He always felt more safe when he was hidden. “Wilbur, say something.” Techno demanded. 

“I do not want to.” Wilbur whispered, sounding out every word slowly, highlighting his point. “I am fine.” He lied. Techno clenched his fists, blinking away the hot tears threatening to spill down his cheeks. He watched Wilbur shift under the blankets once again, listening carefully to his breathing. It was beginning to slow, he was falling asleep. After a few minutes of silence, Wilbur spoke up.

“Do you ever feel like the world is better without me?” He mumbled sleepily, and Techno’s eyes widened in alarm. 

“No, Wilbur. I don’t. I never have.” He replied quickly, leaving no room for error. “Do you?” He asked quietly, unsure whether he wanted to hear the answer.. Wilbur yawned, cooing quietly. 

“Sometimes. Usually when I’m like this.” He lilted, his voice drowsy. "If I'm not contributing, like, if I'm not- um, if I'm not doing ballet, or winning things…" Wilbur paused. "Then what's the point in me?" Techno heard him yawn again. He felt a cold chill down his spine as he heard his brother convincing himself that his existence was useless. It was terrifying to hear.

“I care about you so much, Wil. I really want you to know that.” He swallowed back another lump in his throat. It wasn’t the time to cry. "I need you to know that. You're the best person I know. You just- we haven't gotten the chance to show that side of us yet. You don't need to prove to anyone that you have the right to exist. You're lying here and that's enough." Techno sighed as he felt tears rolling down his cheeks, he didn't even bother trying to wipe them away. 

“I just… don't think-” Wilbur’s speech was slurring, his eyes fluttering shut. There was another beat of silence, broken by the steady rhythm of Wilbur’s breathing. He was asleep. 

“Dad, I think it’s clean.” Tommy sat on the steps frowning as he watched Phil, on his knees, scrubbing the exact same spot on the floor. He wanted the house to be perfect for the inspection to the point the house was almost too pristine. Phil stood up with a frown, placing his hands on his hips. 

“I know, but there’s just that patch on the floor and it’s not coming off.” He replied as Tommy laughed fondly. 

“I don’t think they’re going to deem you an unfit foster parent because of a stain on the floor.” 

“I beg to differ.” Phil replied with a grin. 

“Dad, I’m serious. It’s gonna be fine. Wil and Tech are gonna like it here. It doesn't matter how the house looks, as long as we make them feel safe, they'll like it here." Phil tilted his head slightly, giving Tommy an amused look. 

"When did you get so profound?" He asked, his voice laced with pride. Tommy grinned, raising his head to the sky with mock-arrogance. 

"Wilbur showed me one poem, I've changed. I'm a poet and shit. I know every word." 

 “I am-" Phil cut himself off with a laugh. "I am happy to hear that. Now, come help me clean the kitchen.” 

Tommy fell backwards with a groan, playing dead. “No! Nevermind, the stain absolutely needs more scrubbing.” Phil raised his eyebrows with a playful smirk. 

“Come on, you little shit. It’ll only take a few minutes.” 

"My poor bones. How will I recover from this?" Tommy raised his fist to the sky dramatically. Phil faked an evil laugh from the kitchen. Tommy grinned, hopping off the step and into the kitchen. He was so excited for Wilbur and Techno to move in. My older brothers.

Chapter Text

As Phil stood in his eerily clean kitchen, watching the inspector tick off boxes and write notes, he couldn’t shake the feeling of anxiety. Despite Puffy’s repeated assurance that it would be fine, Phil was sure they would find something wrong. He knew it was an arduous process, but he wasn’t expecting something so simple to stress him out this much. With a plastered on smile, he waited for the inspector to speak. Tommy was standing beside him, trying his best not to make any noise, (which was proving difficult for a child as loud as Tommy.) The inspector’s expression was unreadable, which wasn’t assisting Phil’s worry in the slightest. She looked up, tilting her head slightly. 

“Your house appears to be in order.” She said slowly, and Phil released a relieved breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. A grin crept up Tommy’s face as he suppressed the urge to jump in the air. “Would you be alright with me asking you a few questions?” She asked, her tone unreadable. Phil nodded vigorously, pulling out a chair for her to sit on. 

“Yeah, of course, do you want tea or anything? Coffee? Orange juice?” She shook her head with an amused smile tracing her lips. Tommy kicked the floor idly, unsure of what he was meant to be doing. 

“No, I’m okay, thank you Mr Watson. Can I call you Phil?” She rubbed her hands together, warming herself up from the cold air outside. 

“Yeah, Phil is fine.” Phil smiled back, a nervous tinge in his voice still. She nodded, looking over to Tommy. 

“Thomas, isn’t it?” Tommy blinked, not expecting to be addressed, and nodded. 

“Yeah, um, Tommy is good too.” He replied quietly. Phil frowned, not used to Tommy being this quiet. He was probably just as nervous as Phil felt. 

“Ahh, okay. Nice to meet you, Tommy. You can take a seat if you want, I have a few questions for you, too. No pressure though!” 

“Yeah, that’s fine.” Tommy replied, feeling his stomach churn. She clapped her hands together, grabbing her clipboard. Tommy sunk into his chair.

“This feels like a parent teacher meeting.” He mumbled, almost inaudible. Phil shot him a weak smile, acknowledging the joke. He knew Tommy hated it when his jokes fell flat. 

"So, Phil, what has you interested in fostering Wilbur and Technoblade?" She asked, clicking her pen and holding it against the clipboard. Phil cleared his throat. 

"Well, first and foremost, they're both lovely kids. Kind, very quiet though. They deserve a lot more than the childhood they had, and I would like to be the one to give it to them. Tommy loves them, he and Wilbur get on especially well. I just- I think they deserve a stable home, which I am willing to offer." The inspector nodded, her eyebrow slightly raised. 

"I'm very glad to hear that, Phil. So far, I have no qualms with Wilbur and Technoblade staying with you. So far, at least." The knot in Phil's stomach loosened further as he nodded patiently. 

"Thank you." He replied quietly, waiting for another question. 

"Now, Tommy." She turned to look at Tommy as she spoke. He straightened in his seat, trying to keep eye contact despite his discomfort. "Are you happy with Wilbur and Techno coming into your home? You don't feel jealous or anything?" Tommy frowned, shooting Phil a subtle look before shaking his head. 

"Why would I be jealous?" He replied, "they deserve to feel stable. I'm fuckin- uh, I'm privileged, I have a good childhood. Wil and Techno deserve that too. So yes, I am happy with them living with us. I don't like how you phrased it, 'coming into your home' like they're not human, or worthy of love and shit." Tommy winced at the accidental swearing in front of her, but she didn't seem phased. She was listening intently, nodding quietly. "If they get to live here, they're Watsons. Not some foreign entities we took in out of pity." Tommy finished, earning a dumbfounded look from Phil and a box ticked from the inspector. 

"Very interesting." She mumbled. "Now, Tommy you might need to leave the room for this one, if that's alright." Tommy nodded, standing up quietly and walking out into the hallway, closing the door behind him. "Now, Phil, onto a heavier topic." 

"Alright. Go ahead." He replied with a nervous nod. 

"You're aware of Wilbur’s… issues with eating, aren't you?" She was treading lightly with this topic. Phil felt a pang of pain in his heart just thinking about it. 

"I am." He replied, his feigned calm voice dropping lower into something more melancholy. She scribbled something into her clipboard. 

"How do you intend to help him with that?" She asked, her eye contact was piercing.

"Well, therapy, of course. Trying to make him feel as comfortable as possible, that he knows it's okay to eat whatever he wants. I'm assuming his… past guardian had him on a more restrictive diet." 

"You refer to their father as their 'past guardian', any reason why?" Phil pushed down the anger bubbling inside him when he thought about Wilbur and Techno’s father. 

"Degenerates like that don't deserve to be called a parent." He spat, not bothering to mask the venom in his voice. She nodded silently, scribbling something else down on the clipboard. She stood up with a faint smile. 

"Thank you for your time, Mr Watson. I'll be going now."

Wilbur woke up the next morning to the quiet rhythm of Techno’s breathing. He was still asleep, which was rare. Techno was always awake before him. As his senses woke up a bit more, Wilbur noticed how greasy and tangled his hair was. He frowned, pulling what looked like a pillow feather out of his fringe. He forced himself out of bed and into the bathroom to shower. 

After over an hour of just letting the water fall onto his face, he returned to his bedroom to put on some fresh clothes. It was only after he took them off he realised how filthy his other outfit was. "You're disgusting." He whispered to himself as he picked them up and threw them into the washing basket. He walked back into the bathroom once he got dressed, and just stared at himself through the mirror. He didn't even look like himself anymore, he looked so tired, and sad. He turned his head back over to his room as he heard Techno stir. 

"Wilbur?" He called out quietly. 

"I'm here." He responded, wincing as he realised how hoarse he sounded. Techno tilted his head at him, smiling with something that looked like pride. 

"You're up." He said quietly. Wilbur nodded awkwardly, feeling ashamed for staying in bed for so long. 

"Yeah." He mumbled. There was a beat of silence. "I'm sorry." Techno frowned. 

"Sorry for what?" 

"For being needy and annoying, and-" Techno shushed Wilbur loudly before he could continue. 

"No. Stop. Don't apologise. We don't need to apologise for stuff like that anymore, okay? You're allowed to rest." Techno gave Wilbur a knowing look. "Don't apologise for dealing with the aftermath of everything." Wilbur's lip trembled as he sat back down on the bed, his eyes watering. Techno pulled him into a loose hug. "It's okay to feel bad right now." He whispered, and Wilbur nodded shakily. 

"I don't know- I don't know what I'd do without you, Tech." He whispered back, his voice breaking slightly. 

"You won't ever be without me." Techno replied, his hug tightening. "Do you want to go and get something to eat? Sam should be awake." Wilbur hesitated for a moment, but he turned his head and saw Techno’s pleading expression. He nodded slowly, watching his twin's expression morph into relief. 

"Alright, let's go." 

Wilbur followed Techno quietly into the kitchen, trying to act as his shadow. Sam was sitting at the table sipping a cup of coffee, newspaper in hand. He put down the newspaper when he saw Techno enter. 

"Good morning Techno! Is Wilbu-" He paused, his gaze falling onto Wilbur. "Oh! Hello Wilbur." He smiled warmly. Wilbur waved awkwardly, sitting down at the table. "You want something to eat?" 

"Suppose so." He replied quietly. He wasn't even hungry. Sam nodded, making his way over to the fridge. 

"What foods do you like?" He asked. "I can make anything, it's not an issue." Wilbur grimaced, thinking. 

"I'm not sure. I don't really eat many foods." He replied quietly, not noticing the worried frown he got from Sam. 

"Ah, okay. That's okay. Do you like toast?" Wilbur nodded, he didn't really mind. "Toast it is." 

"I'll have the same, thank you." Techno added, sitting down next to Wilbur. He smiled weakly at his twin, who smiled back. Wilbur leaned forward and rested his head on the table. He was still so tired. But he was safe, and not as scared as before. So it was okay. Sam put a small plate of toast in front of Wilbur, with a tub of butter and a knife. He didn't think he could stomach butter, he would just eat the toast plain. 

"Don't worry about leftovers, just eat what you can and I'll give the rest to Fran." Sam assured him. Fran was Sam's dog, but he had kept her in the other room because neither teens had much experience with dogs. Wilbur nodded, forcing a smile. 

"Okay, um, thank you- thank you, uh, Sam." He mumbled quietly, picking up a slice of toast and squishing it with his hands. 

"No problem, Wilbur." He replied, putting a second plate of toast in front of Techno. Techno nodded in thanks, taking a bite of his immediately. He glanced at Wilbur anxiously, noticing he hadn't eaten any yet. There was no pressure in his expression, just worry. Wilbur didn't want to let Techno down. He took a reluctant bite, forcing himself to swallow despite how his entire body screamed against it. He was already in tears as he tried to take a second bite. 

"Wilbur, it's okay. Just take it slowly." Techno comforted the brunette. Wilbur nodded quietly, blinking back the tears as he bit into the toast. Why was this so hard? 

He dropped the toast back onto the plate. 

"I- I can't do it. I'm sorry. I- I'm-" He whispered, his voice was shaky. "I'm really trying- I- I promise I'm-" He placed his head in his hands was he leaned against the table, taking deep breaths. 

"Just take it slowly, Wil." Techno repeated. "There's no time limit, okay?" Wilbur shook his head. 

"I can't do it. I can't- I can't do it, Techno." He replied, his voice panicked. Techno placed a gentle hand on his twin's shoulder, causing him to flinch back and yelp in alarm. He turned his head, eyes wide, his mind seemingly drifted elsewhere for a moment. 

"Shit, sorry Wil. I didn't think that would startle you. It's gonna be okay. I know you can do it, just a few more bites?" Techno frowned, watching Wilbur's hands shaking as he pressed them against the table. The brunette shook his head again. 

"I can't." He spat, his frustration towards himself leaking into his tone. 

"Wilbur, I know you c-" Techno was cut off by Wilbur slamming his palms on the table. Sam peered into the kitchen from the living room, his eyes wide. 

"I CAN'T." He screamed, his voice breaking as tears started to stream down his face. Techno pulled back, watching silently as Wilbur stormed out of the room. He didn't know what to do. 

Phil was sitting on the couch, nervously checking his phone every few seconds for an incoming phone call. They had said they would call him 5 minutes ago. Tommy was sat across from him, his legs bouncing up and down as they waited. Phil startled when his phone started ringing, almost dropping it in his hurry to answer. 

"Uh, hello!" He greeted, trying to sound chirpy. 

"Hello Phil! It is Aimsey again, the social worker from before. Calling about Wilbur and Technoblade Soot." Phil loosened up at the kind voice. It was a lot less nerve wracking now. He dug his nails into his palm anxiously. 

"Yes, I've been waiting for your call." 

"Ah, my apologies, Phil. I hope we didn't keep you waiting too long." 

"No, no, only a few minutes. Don't worry about it." Phil replied. Just tell me whether I'm qualified or not.

"Okay, let's get into it. So, your home is in order. It seems well kept and danger free, so that's a big plus for you. Your home environment is…" Aimsey paused, and Phil heard the noise of a page turning. "... warm and welcoming. That is another win for you. Based on my assessment of the inspection you were given, I don't see a reason why you wouldn't qualify." Phil released a relieved breath, giving Tommy a thumbs up and a bright smile. The blonde jumped up from the couch and danced around the room, celebrating silently. 

"Thank you so much. I promise I won't let these kids down. Thank you so much." 

"Don't thank me, Phil. You're helping out two kids that need it. I should be thanking you." Aimsey’s smile was evident through the phone by how she was talking. "Now, let's set up a day and time for them to move in." 

"Of course. I'm free pretty much any day after Tommy gets out of school." Tommy booed quietly at the mention of school, earning a faint smile from Phil. 

Phil hung up after a few minutes of setting up dates and took a deep breath. Then he cheered, with Tommy following suit. They jumped around the living room with joy for a few moments, and Phil’s phone rang again. He walked back over to the couch to pick it up. 

"Who is it?" Tommy asked. 

"It's Puffy." Phil mumbled, answering the call. "Hi Puff." 

"Did they call you?" She asked immediately, not bothering with small talk. 

"They did." Phil replied, a smile tracing his lips once again. He heard Tubbo yell something in the background. 

"And?" Phil could tell the anticipation was killing her. He laughed quietly. 

"We're all clear. They're coming home." Puffy cheered and Phil heard a distant "FUCK YEAAAH!" from Tubbo. 

"Toby, language!" Puffy yelled, laughing quietly. "I'm so glad it worked out, Phil. Not that I had any doubts." 

"Couldn’t have done it without ya, Puffy." Phil replied earnestly. "I'll call you when they move in. Maybe we'll hold back on the visits until they're settled in, though." 

"Yeah, yeah, of course. Gotta let them get their bearings first. I'm obviously around if you need any help, or a break." 

"Thank you Puff. That means a lot to me. Really." He replied gratefully, tearing up. With happy tears, of course. 

"I can hear your voice, don't you dare cry." She teased, and Phil laughed quietly. "I'll talk to you later, yeah?" 

"Yeah, bye Puff." 

Tommy immediately started rambling as soon as Phil hung up. 

"Okay, so we need to get their rooms all cool and shit. We should get them better phones, 'cause their's are all cracked. They need cool clothes, and-" Phil raised an eyebrow, with an amused smile on his face. 

"Slow down, Toms. We can decide on design choices when they move in. So they can decide for themselves. Don't want to overwhelm them early on." Tommy frowned, but nodded nonetheless. 

"I wanted to design their rooms, but that makes sense I s'pose" He mumbled. Phil smiled fondly, ruffling the blonde’s hair. He batted Phil's hand away and groaned as he fixed his now ruined fringe. 

"I know you want them to like it here, Toms. They will. It's probably going to be a bit stressful and we need to go slow, okay?" Tommy nodded again. 

"Okay, Dad. They're coming on Tuesday, right? How many days away is Tuesday…?" Tommy's brow furrowed as he tried to remember what day it was. Phil laughed quietly. 

"3 days from today." He replied, "we can go and get them a few little things tomorrow. A nicer duvet for their rooms and stuff like that. You can pick out a few plushies for them too. That sound good?" Tommy nodded, a smile tracing his lips once again. He was ecstatic. And Phil was too. 

Chapter Text

Wilbur tore his eyes open in the middle of the night, drenched in sweat and his heart racing. His eyes frantically darted around the room for a sign that he was really awake. His breaths were fast and hitched as his hands curled into his blankets. He covered his mouth to muffle a sob as he trembled. That nightmare was worse than the others.

-"TECHNO GET UP!"

Wilbur covered his ears, despite the screams only being in his head. It kept replaying in his mind, refusing to let him have a single cohesive thought. His breathing continued to pick up until his vision started to blur. 

-"You thought you could hide a camera?" 

His father's cruel voice lingered in his head until he was unable to breathe, completely overtaken by fear. Techno was still fast asleep in the other bed, none the wiser to Wilbur’s panic. He covered his mouth again, trying to keep his hyperventilation quiet. 

"Get out- get out of my head- please-" He whispered desperately to himself, biting his lip until he could taste blood. 

-His scream as the knife plunged into his chest. "THERE’S NO WAY OUT!" 

Wilbur’s strained yell caused Techno to stir in his sleep. He pulled his pillow over his head in an attempt to doze off again. Wilbur desperately tried to muffle his sobs. He didn't want Techno to worry. 

-Feeling himself bleeding out on the grass, his eyes fluttering shut. 

Wilbur’s head snapped back, hitting off of the headboard as he started to seize. His eyes rolled into the back of his head and he cried out in pain. Techno’s head shot up, his brows furrowed in confusion. 

"Wil? What's-?" His eyes widened as he saw Wilbur’s head hit off of his headboard for the second time. "Oh no, oh, oh no." He paled as he rushed over to Wilbur's bedside and held the brunette's head. "Fuck. Um, Wil? Can you hear me?" Wilbur remained unresponsive, his mouth starting to foam. Techno's mind was racing, he didn't know what to do. Wilbur’s head continued to crash into Techno’s hand as he whimpered in pain. "Wilbur?" He asked again, praying the brunette would respond. Still, no response. Techno held his twin brother close, waiting for him to stop seizing. "It's going to be okay, Wil. It'll be okay." He comforted Wilbur as his seizing started to calm. Wilbur’s petrified eyes darted up to meet Techno’s, and Techno felt his stomach sink. He looked so agonised, so afraid. "I'm here, Wil." He soothed as Wilbur started to wail. Techno pulled him into a hug as the brunette sobbed. 

"T-Tech- I- I'm- I-" Wilbur tried to speak in between sobs, only managing to hiccup a few words. Techno shushed him quietly, tapping a rhythm on his wrist as his breathing started to steady. 

-Being dragged along the grass, barely conscious as screams surrounded him. 

Wilbur whimpered in terror, burying his head in Techno’s shoulder, trembling. Techno frowned. 

"What happened, Wil? Nightmares?" There was a pause, and Wilbur nodded shakily. "Do you want to talk about it?" He shook his head. "That's okay. You don't have to, but I'm here if you do." Wilbur sniffled, lifting his head up to look at Techno. There were red tear marks on his face from crying. 

"T-thanks Techno." He whispered, his voice still shaky. 

"Do you want me to get Sam?" Techno asked gently, watching Wilbur's expression carefully for discomfort. Wilbur shook his head. 

"No- no, it's fine. It was just- just a seizure." He replied, watching as Techno frowned at him. 

"It's not 'just a seizure,' Wil. It's not something you can keep brushing off." Techno huffed, looking concerned. Wilbur sighed, he didn't see the point in Techno fussing over him constantly. Wilbur was a lost cause. 

"I'm still alive, aren't I?" He mumbled. Techno closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. 

"Wilbur, look at yourself! You're constantly afraid, you're not eating, you're always tired!" 

"How is that my fault?" Wilbur snapped, feeling light headed at the minimal exertion it took to raise his voice. He wavered slightly, his head almost lolling to the side into his bedside table. Techno grabbed his arm gently, surveying him anxiously. Like he was a bomb about to explode. 

"It's not your fault." Techno's voice lowered to a whisper. "None of this is your fault. But- I just- I want to see you thrive. I want us both to live happy lives." Wilbur's dull, brown eyes looked up at Techno’s greyish blue ones, and he wondered how they were brothers at all. Techno was sitting in front of him, equally broken, but still thriving. Wilbur was a broken mess, falling apart, with no way for anyone to pick up the pieces. 

"How? How am I meant to live a happy life if I can't imagine what tomorrow looks like?" He snapped back, surprising himself. Techno pulled back, his eyes wide. 

"Wil-" Techno began, pausing when Wilbur started to cry again. He covered his face, pulling his knees up to his chest. "Do you mean that, Wil?" Techno asked slowly, his stomach twisting with an emotion he couldn't quite place.

"I- I don't- I don't know." Wilbur whispered, his voice breaking. 

"It'll be okay, Wilbur. There's a bright future out there for us. I know there is." Techno soothed Wilbur quietly, listening to the shaky rhythm of his breathing. He hugged Wilbur close, hoping that if he hugged hard enough, Wilbur would feel loved. "It's all going to be alright." 

Wilbur woke up in the early afternoon, curled up with his head resting on Techno’s lap, who was still asleep. Wilbur’s first thought was no nightmares? He was usually woken up by his own nightmares, drenched in sweat. But he was fine, his heart wasn't racing. He was just… awake. He stretched out his arms, yawning quietly. He sat up and tried to flatten his hair, which was sticking out at all angles. He looked over at the calendar, tilting his head in confusion when he saw that today was circled in red. There was writing underneath it, too small to see. Walking over to the wall where the calendar was hung, he saw what it said. 

MOVING IN WITH PHIL TODAY. 

Oh, he had completely forgotten. His bag wasn't even packed. 

"Techno?" He called out quietly, hoping he would wake up. "Technoo…." He called again, a little louder this time. Techno's head lifted up sluggishly to look at Wilbur. 

"Morning." He grumbled. "Why are you up?" Wilbur pointed to the calendar, and Techno's brows furrowed.

"Oh, yeah, I forgot about that." He muttered, sitting up. 

"So did I." Wilbur replied dully, "what time are they supposed to arrive at?" Techno squinted across the room, looking at the clock. His eyes widened. 

"In like… 5 minutes. Shit." He sat up, grabbing his only clean outfit from the cupboard. "We need to get ready. Fuck fuck fuck." Wilbur let out a string of curses as he grabbed his clothes that were thrown onto the floor and shoved them into his bag. 

"Why didn't you set an alarm?" He complained as he rushed around the room. 

"I forgot!" Techno replied, putting his hoodie on. "It's fine, they might be late." 

"I haven't known Phil for long, but I know he won't be late." Wilbur huffed, zipping up his backpack full of unfolded clothes. He threw it at Techno, who blocked it and threw it back. And right on cue, the doorbell rang downstairs. Wilbur ruffled his unbrushed hair, hoping it looked fine as the two rushed out of the room. Sam was just exiting his bedroom, and he smiled at them both. 

"I wasn't sure if you were awake or not." He said, and Wilbur smiled weakly. 

"We did sleep in a bit." Techno replied. "We're here now, so it's okay." 

Wilbur stood nervously at the door as Sam opened it. He flinched back with a startled yelp as a ball of blonde engulfed him in a hug. He froze, eyes wide, stumbling back. He hugged back gently, trying not to let his initial fear be noticed. Phil smiled brightly at him from outside. 

"Hiya boys." He greeted, giving Techno a kind wave, who smiled weakly in return. "Thank you for looking after them." He said solemnly, turning to Sam. 

"They were a pleasure, really. No problems at all." He replied brightly, shaking Phil’s hand. Tommy relinquished Wilbur from his tight hug, beaming like the sun. Wilbur couldn't help but smile back at how happy Tommy looked. 

"Hello Tommy." He said quietly, a complete contrast to Tommy’s loud, bubbly greeting. Tommy's smile faltered when he saw how tired Wilbur looked. But he pretended not to notice. 

"Do you want me to put your bags in the car?" Phil asked Wilbur and Techno. Wilbur shook his head. 

"No- no, I've got it." He responded, bringing his backpack over to the car. He felt exhausted already. Exhausted, but alive. He leaned into the car to place his bag down, freezing in fear for a moment, his mind completely fogging over. 

"You've got something to hide, don't you?" 

His father's voice intruding on all of his other thoughts sent him into a panic for a moment, and he took a shocked step backwards, stumbling into Techno who grabbed him to stop him from falling. Phil ran over, looking concerned. 

"Wooah, Wilbur mate are you-" Phil froze upon seeing Wilbur’s ghostly pale face, and wide, unblinking eyes. "Did something happen Wilbur?" He asked gently, taking a step forward. Wilbur stumbled back once again, this time falling onto the gravel. 

"You thought you could hide a camera?" 

Wilbur whimpered in terror as the visions of that night infested his brain, as vivid as the day they happened. 

"...no, nononono, please- please- no!" Wilbur frantically whispered to himself as he covered his head in blind panic, oblivious to the others crowding around him. "Stop, no, don't- don't! Please don't!" He screeched, completely lost in the vivid screams in his head. 

"AFTER EVERYTHING I'VE DONE FOR YOU?" 

Wilbur screamed, begging incoherently for it to- 

"STOP!" He broke into hysterics, sobbing faster than he could breathe. His hearing started to zone in on panicked voices, they were calling his name. 

"-ilbur? Can you hear us?" 

 "-re you okay?" 

"-hy can't he hear us, Dad?!" 

Wilbur shook his head frantically, unable to stop trembling as he continued to relive the worst day of his life over and over again.

"Please- please stop. Stop it- stop it!" He pleaded, his voice shaking. 

"You both could have been great." 

" STOP IT! " He screamed at the top of his lungs, feeling his throat become raw as his voice broke. The vivid images and voices in his head started to die down, and Wilbur was left with the sounds of his own hyperventilation. 

"Wilbur! Wilbur mate, can you say something?" Wilbur started to gasp for breath as the tears rolled down his cheeks.

"Ph-Phil- h-help me!" He choked, his voice laced with terror. Phil felt his heart break right then and there. He didn't want Wilbur or Techno to feel pain like this ever again. 

"Wilbur mate, I'm here. I'm here, moondrop. It's okay, you're safe now." Wilbur continued to wail as Phil desperately tried to comfort him. Sam had taken Techno and Tommy inside for a moment, not wanting to overwhelm the two. "Can I hug you, Wilbur?" Phil asked gently. Wilbur nodded shakily and Phil wrapped him up in a warm hug, shushing him quietly. Wilbur was still shaking as he buried his head into Phil’s shoulder. 

"I- I'm- I'm-" Wilbur tried to speak, being interrupted by his repeated hiccups from sobbing. 

"Don't say you're sorry, Wilbur. You have nothing to be sorry for. Nothing." Phil cut in, his voice gentle. Wilbur squeezed his eyes shut, allowing his sobs to rattle through his body. Phil didn't move a muscle, just quietly whispering words of comfort until Wilbur was recovered enough to sit up. 

"You alright, moondrop?" He asked mutely, watching the brunette carefully. 

"M-moondrop?" Wilbur mumbled, confused and Phil smiled weakly.

"Oh, it's a nickname I came up with for you. I can stop if you like." He responded, confusing Wilbur even more. 

"Why- why would you stop?" He blurted, his brows furrowed. Phil frowned. 

"If you didn't like it, I would stop." He explained, not seeming to stifle Wilbur’s confusion at all. 

"But why would that- why would that matter?" He asked slowly, afraid of mis-speaking. Phil’s frown deepened. 

"What do you mean, Wilbur?" He asked gently, no anger in his tone. Wilbur flinched, his mind drifting elsewhere for a split second. 

-"What do you mean, Wilbur? Stop fucking stuttering and SPEAK! If you can't even speak, how do you expect to be in interviews?" 

Wilbur blinked, trying to mask his burst of fear and adrenaline. 

"Uh- I'm- um, sorry. I didn't- it's-" He trailed off, starting to tremble once again. Phil felt his heart break, just a little bit. 

"Wilbur, you're not in trouble. I just want you to explain what you meant, alright?" Wilbur nodded shakily. 

"Uh, I was just, um, why would-" He paused, stumbling over his words. 

"Take your time mate." 

"Why would what I thought of that you were saying matter? You can say whatever you want, it's your mouth." He mumbled after a moment, staring at the ground anxiously. Phil’s stomach twisted in disgust for the way Wilbur was taught to see the world. He didn't even understand the concept of boundaries. It was sickening.

"Wilbur, your opinion matters just as much as mine does." Phil replied sternly, but gently. Wilbur’s confused expression returned. 

"But- but- you're an adult. I'm just- I'm stupid. My thoughts don't matter." 

Phil took a deep breath. 

"Wilbur, that's not true. That's not true at all. Your opinion is so important. Do you understand?" Wilbur's face contorted into shame. Am I supposed to understand? This was going against everything he was taught. He didn't respond. Phil smiled patiently, despite the anger bubbling in his stomach. The anger wasn't directed towards the brunette in front of him, though. 

"It's alright if you don't understand yet, mate. These things take time. Now, just answer this question honestly, without thinking about what anyone else thinks about it. Do you mind the nickname?" Wilbur hesitated, biting his lip. He wasn't sure. His father had nicknames for him sometimes, but they were always used with a terrifying condescension, whenever he was in trouble.  

-"You know what happens when you mess up, don't you, Buddy?"

Wilbur flinched back, squeezing his eyes shut as he let out a scared whimper. Phil's eyes widened. 

"Wilbur, mate-" 

"I- really- I don't like the nicknames, I- I don't, I- hate them!" He blurted out, covering his mouth in surprise at his own words. "Oh." He whispered, looking petrified. Phil smiled. 

"And that's okay. That's fine." 

Wilbur froze, not expecting that answer. It felt so… easy. It didn't seem like a trick, though. He trusted Phil. 

"Oh." His voice dropped to a whisper. "I didn't know I could-" Wilbur trailed off, his brows still furrowed slightly. 

"You just set a boundary, Wil. You can set as many as you like." Phil explained gently, and Wilbur’s eyes trailed upwards to meet eye contact with him. 

"That's- that's- woah." Wilbur smiled weakly. "A boundary." His lips traced the word like he hadn't heard it before. He probably hadn't. Phil held out his hand for Wilbur to take. 

"We should probably get going, yeah?" 

Wilbur nodded as he grabbed Phil's hand, a bemused smile still tracing his lips. 

Phil tilted the rear view mirror slightly as he drove so he could keep a close eye on Wilbur, who was curled up asleep against the window. He looked exhausted. Techno sat on the other side, his head idly resting against the window pane as he watched the trees go by. Tommy was in the passenger seat next to him, his eyes shut. 

"You hungry, Techno?" Phil called back, "I can stop for something to eat if you want." Techno bit his lip. He hadn't had time to eat breakfast. 

"Uh, yes, please- if- if it's not too much trouble?" He mumbled, a nervous twinge to his voice. Phil smiled, putting Techno at ease. 

"Of course, mate. Do you like McDonald's?" He asked as he pulled into the pit-stop. Techno’s expression twisted into something unreadable. "It's okay if you don't." Phil added, upon seeing Techno’s reaction. 

"No, um, it's just- I've never… had McDonald's." Techno's voice lilted as he spoke, making it sound like more of a question than a statement. 

"Oh, that's alright. Do you want to try it?" Phil didn't let his smile drop, despite how he felt. These kids didn't even get to experience the most universal childhood meal. He would order them the whole menu if he could. They deserved it. "Do you think you could wake up Wilbur?" Phil asked as he pulled into a parking space. Techno frowned. 

"I don't think he's hungry." He mumbled, watching his twin brother sleep silently. 

"He can come in anyways, I don't want to leave him in the car alone in case he wakes up." He wanted Wilbur to eat. He gently shook Tommy’s shoulders, and the blonde groaned as he tried to cover his eyes. 

"Go awaaaay." He grumbled, squinting his eyes open. He immediately perked up once he saw the McDonald's sign. He grinned, sitting up. "I'm awake." Phil smiled. He turned around to see if Wilbur had woken up yet. The brunette was sitting with his head hung low, awake but looking like he didn't want to be. 

"You hungry, Wilbur mate?" He asked gently. Wilbur just shrugged, his hair covering his face. "That's okay, your stomach might wake up when you smell the food." 

Doubtful, Wilbur thought bitterly. 

Chapter Text

Wilbur immediately strained his eyes as he walked into the McDonald's. It was so bright, too bright. Techno noticed Wilbur’s discomfort, offering him a weak smile. He just wanted to curl up and sit in a dark, quiet room. He was so tired. It took too much energy to try and seem lively. He hated being so grumpy around Tommy, but he just didn't have it in him to act 'normal.' 

"I don't like it here." Wilbur whispered, biting his lip. Techno nodded mutely. 

"It's okay." He replied, his voice always putting Wilbur at ease. They followed Phil and Tommy over to the table that they chose. Tommy beamed at Wilbur, patting the seat beside him for him to sit on. Wilbur sat down quietly, resting his head on the table, letting his hair fall onto his eyes. Tommy frowned. 

"Did you sleep at all last night, Wil?" He asked quietly. Wilbur shook his head, his dull brown eyes drifting up to look at Tommy. 

"Nightmares." He mumbled in response, choosing not to elaborate any further. Tommy nodded sympathetically. 

"Oh, that's shit." There were a few moments of silence where Tommy anxiously tapped on the table. "Are you gonna eat something?" 

"Uh, I ate before we left." Wilbur explained, looking nervous. Tommy paused, surveying Wilbur's expression. 

"Sam told Dad that you didn't have time to eat." He mumbled, holding eye contact with the brunette. …shit. 

"Not hungry." Wilbur broke eye contact when his stomach immediately started rumbling. "Ignore that." Tommy raised an eyebrow. 

"I think you should eat something." He replied, his voice firm. But not angry. 

-"I gave you food, I fed you because you behaved. And you won't even fucking eat it. You're an ungrateful, pathetic little-" 

Wilbur gasped and flinched back, covering his face instinctively at the sudden flash in his mind. Tommy’s eyes widened and Phil and Techno turned their heads to look at him. 

"Wil?" Tommy asked, sounding worried. "What happened?" 

Wilbur shook his head, starting to shake. 

"I-I don't- I don't know. It keeps happening. I just- I just completely went inside my head. I keep seeing things." He whispered, his voice haunted. Phil tilted his head, looking worried. Wilbur held his hand in front of his face, watching it shake. He grabbed it with his other hand, trying to stop it as he let out a rocky breath. 

"What do you see, mate?" Phil bit his lip, his eyes glinting with something Wilbur had rarely seen. It was genuine worry. Wilbur shook his head, pressing his palms against the table as his trembling became uncontrollable. "Wilbur? What do you see?" Phil repeated gently. He didn't know. Wilbur shook his head again, tears prickling the tips of his eyes. Phil tilted his head.

 "Wilbur? Can you-"

-"You're useless. You can't even explain simple things, even when your- no, MY public image relies on it. You were asked a SIMPLE QUESTION." 

Wilbur whimpered as he started to cry. 

"I don't- I don't know. I don't know! I'm sorry- I- I don't-" He covered his head in fear. Tommy's eyes widened, and he put his hand on Wilbur’s shoulder in an attempt to comfort him. The brunette startled, screeching involuntarily and crying even harder. Tommy pulled back in shock, covering his mouth in surprise.

"Shit! Wilbur, I'm-" 

Techno moved over next to Wilbur, pushing Tommy gently out of the way as he tried to comfort his twin. Techno whispered something inaudible in Wilbur's ear, and he looked up, his lips still trembling. 

"I- I can't- I can't talk about it." He muttered, looking nervously up at Phil. 

"That's okay, Wilbur. If you ever feel like talking about it, I'm always around." Wilbur nodded gratefully, knowing full well he would not take Phil up on his offer. 

"Are you gonna eat something Wil?" Techno asked him quietly. Wilbur hesitated, feeling Techno’s eyes burning into his head. 

"Do I have to?" He whispered in response, his voice weak. The smell of food in the restaurant was already making him feel sick. He just wanted to sleep, he was always tired. His body was probably making up for lost sleep, it was fine. 

Right?

"Can you try to eat something small?" Techno asked, his tone level. Wilbur sighed, his hair falling over his eyes again as he nodded reluctantly. Techno breathed a quiet sigh of relief, smiling faintly. He wasn't pressuring Wilbur in any way, but Wilbur could see the nervous glint in his eyes. The constant nervous surveillance, like he would turn to dust if Techno looked away. At this rate, Wilbur wouldn't be surprised if he would. He could barely go 5 minutes without his twin. 

-"You're too clingy. How about I separate you both until you actually start pulling your weight, hm? Maybe stop being so lazy?" 

Wilbur squeezed his eyes shut, trying to ignore the intrusive memories. He needed to stop being so needy. Techno clearly noticed a change. 

"Wil? You went pale." Wilbur blinked up at his twin, forcing a smile that Techno immediately clocked as fake. 

"Uh, yeah! I- I just- I zoned out, that's all. I zoned out." He mumbled, trying to keep his tone bright. Techno frowned.

"Are you sure?" He asked carefully, not believing the brunette. Wilbur hesitated again, biting his lip. After a beat or two of silence, he nodded.

"Yeah! I'm fine. I'm alright." He grabbed a menu, trying to change the subject. "Um, Phil?" He began, and Phil looked over with a patient smile. 

"Yeah, mate? What's up?" 

"What is a… Happy Meal?" He read it out slowly, a slight frown tracing his lips with his brows furrowed. Phil's face briefly flickered into something mellow, before reverting back to his usual kind smile. He was always smiling, Wilbur had noticed. He was never angry, or scary. Always... just smiling.

"It's like a burger, mate. Or there's chicken nuggets, too." Phil replied. "It comes with chips and a small drink." Wilbur tilted his head slightly, surveying the menu further before coming to the conclusion that the Happy Meal seemed like the most appetising option. 

"Um, I'll get- I'll get that one, please. The Happy Meal." He mumbled awkwardly, pointing to the small red box with the yellow handles on the menu. Phil nodded, giving Wilbur a thumbs up. 

"Good choice. What about you, Techno?" 

"I'll just get the same as Wil." He replied. 

"I'll get one too!" Tommy chimed in with a smile, trying to push back his guilt from making Wilbur panic. Phil smiled back, standing up to go order. 

"Okay, perfect! I'll be back in a second, boys." He told them as he walked over to the counter. Wilbur tried to ignore his stomach rumbling for the 5th time since they sat down. He would keep telling himself that he wasn't hungry. It might come true if he kept thinking it.

Wilbur’s stomach curled as he watched Phil walking back over to the table with a plate of food. He forced a smile, nodding in thanks as Phil placed the box in front of him. Opening the box tentatively, he wrinkled his nose at the strong aroma of salt that emanated from it. He looked up, becoming suddenly aware of the fact that the entire table was watching him anxiously. He reached his hand into the box, pulling out something wrapped in plastic. He read the label, his brow furrowed in confusion. Beanie baby soft toy. That did not look edible. 

"Uh, Phil? What is this?" He asked quietly, holding up the plastic wrapper. 

"Oh! That's a little toy, they come with every happy meal. Go ahead and open it. It's different every time." Phil responded, and Wilbur nodded slowly, pulling the wrapper off gently. He pulled the plush out, frowning when he saw what it was. This was not the cute plushie he was expecting. Tommy giggled quietly. 

"A fish." Wilbur mumbled monotonously, holding it up like it had personally offended him. 

Techno smiled weakly. "A salmon ." He corrected, earning a lighthearted glare from his twin. 

"Read the little poem on the tag." Tommy suggested, and Wilbur nodded, folding over the tag. 

Lips the salmon! 

Did you ever see a fish like me?

I’m the most colourful in the sea

Travelling with friends in a school

Swimming all day is really cool!

Wilbur’s frown deepened. "Lips is a boring name." He huffed, glaring at the fish. Phil smiled, amused at Wilbur’s infatuation with the beanie baby. It was pretty adorable. 

"You can always change the name, mate." He replied, and Wilbur's frown faltered. 

"How? It's her name." 

"Because she's yours now, you can name her whatever you want." Phil watched Wilbur’s expression morph into a faint smile as he examined the fish, seemingly trying to think of a suitable name. 

"Sally?" He said, immediately backtracking, "...no. That's- that's a bad name. It's not creative enough. I need to be creative. I'm not creative." Wilbur's sudden turn into self hatred startled Phil, and his eyes widened slightly. 

"Wilbur, it doesn't have to be creative. If you like the name, she can be Sally." He insisted, Wilbur’s suddenly defeated expression worrying him slightly. "Besides, Sally is a really clever pun." 

"Is it?" Wilbur asked quietly, looking up like a young child would. It broke Phil’s heart, but he managed to smile and nod. Wilbur paused, examining the salmon further. "I suppose I like the name Sally." He muttered. 

"Sally is a badass name!" Tommy cheered. "A poggers name, dare I say." He added, earning a weak giggle from Wilbur. Tommy beamed, he loved making Wilbur laugh. Phil cleared his throat gently. 

"Wilbur mate, are you going to eat something? There's no rush, your burger just might go cold." Wilbur's frown returned as he looked back into the red box. There were no more toys to stall time with. He just had to eat. Pulling out the burger slowly, he took a reluctant bite. He squeezed his eyes shut, desperately trying to ignore the memories threatening to flood back. He took a deep breath, keeping his eyes shut tight as he went in for a second bite. This was fine. He was fine. Everything was- 

-"Bad dancers don't get food. You haven't earned it yet." 

"Stop." He whispered, completely inaudible to everyone but himself. He saw in the corner of his eye that Techno was trying to make eye contact. To check if he was okay. But Wilbur had to focus on the task at hand before he freaked himself out any more. He took a third bite, taking another breath. Just a few more to go. A fourth bite, then a fifth, then a sixth. He was doing it. Just 3 more bites, and he was done. Just-

-"What made you think you deserved a meal? You haven't done anything." 

Wilbur tried to cover up his violent flinch by masking it as a sneeze. Techno grabbed his arm gently, forcing the brunette to look over at him. 

"Do you need a break?" He whispered, his voice concerned as always. Wilbur shook his head stubbornly. He just needed to finish it. He looked over nervously to Phil, who was talking to Tommy. Wilbur didn't even get the chance to take another bite as another memory crashed through his brain, intruding every other thought. 

-"You know what happens when you eat without permission, buddy?" 

Wilbur shook his head, trembling. The little appetite he'd had completely fizzled away. 

-"What happens to bad dancers, buddy? …TELL ME." 

Wilbur startled, as if his father was right in front of him. It felt too real to not be. He must have been dreaming before. There was no Sam, no Phil, no camera or father in jail. Surely what he was hearing was real? He covered his head, and Techno’s eyes widened. 

"B- bad- bad dancers- bad dancers get- get hit." He wailed, losing his grip on reality as the terrifying memories started to blend with real life. 

-"LOUDER." 

"Bad- bad d- dancers-" He trailed off as he registered someone's hands shaking his shoulders, his head lolled to the side as his father continued to scream at him. Wilbur whimpered in pain, despite no real harm being done to him. It was all in his head. But it was real, was it real? Wilbur was confused, and scared. Someone continued to shake him gently, as if trying to stir him awake. 

"-ilbu-" He could hear muffled voices in his ear, but he couldn't respond. 

-"That's what you fucking get for disobeying me." 

"I'm- I'm sorry. I- I didn't- I didn't mean to. I swear I didn't! I was good today- I was good!" He screeched incoherently, his eyes rolling back into his head. The voices yelling his name were becoming more and more frantic. 

"-IL!" 

"-ilbur, stay with me! You're safe!"

Wilbur lost complete grip on reality as he started to sink back in his chair, feeling his head snap to the side. 

"Fuck, fuck! He's seizing! Move the table!" He heard someone scream as the dots fizzling in his vision completely obscured his peripherals until he was gone. 

"-e's waking up." 

"Stand back, don't overwhelm h-" 

Wilbur’s eyes fluttered open weakly as he scanned his surroundings. Panic immediately rose in his chest when he registered he was in hospital. His head shot up and he tried to stand up, his legs giving out from under him the second he tried. He cried out in pain as he crumbled onto the floor. 

"Shit, Wilbur!" Techno was immediately at his side, his eyes wide. "Wilbur, are you with me?" Wilbur’s eyes were wide and unfocused, and he leaned into his twin's shoulder, trembling. You were bad. He hurt you again, that must be why you're here. Techno pulled him close, gently guiding him back onto the bed. Wilbur tried to struggle against it, but he was too weak to cause Techno any strain. 

"No- no, Dad's gonna- he's gonna- he's gonna kill me. I shouldn't-" Wilbur's voice broke as he desperately tried to get back up. Techno paled, taking a startled step back. 

"Wilbur, Dad's not- he's not here anymore." Techno mumbled, his voice weak with surprise. Wilbur shook his head, still not fully grounded. 

"N-no. You don't- you don't understand. I was bad. I got in trouble. That's why I'm here." Techno took another step back, feeling faint all of a sudden. Their father wasn't around anymore, but Wilbur's tone still caused some panic to arise. It was almost automatic. Phil stood forward, sitting on the bed next to Wilbur. 

"Wilbur mate, look. It's me, Phil. You live with me and Tommy, remember?" Phil gestured to Tommy, who was sitting on an armchair in the corner of the room, looking physically ill. He smiled weakly for Wilbur, his tired, worried eyes a direct contradiction to the smile. The fog in Wilbur’s mind started to clear as his brain connected the dots. Phil was a good one, he made things better. He didn't have to be scared around Phil. He was safe with Phil. 

"...Phil?" He asked weakly, trying desperately to confirm that he was, in fact, safe. Phil nodded. 

"And Tommy." Phil added. "And your father is gone." 

There was a long pause as Wilbur tried to make sense of what had happened. One thing still didn't make sense to him. 

"But how did I get here? Only bad dancers go to hospital." There was a longer pause, and Wilbur looked up at Phil with a somewhat betrayed expression. "...was I bad?" He asked quietly, nearly inaudible. Phil felt the air leave his lungs at how childlike and afraid Wilbur sounded. He shook his head vigorously, leaning forward gently. Wilbur's dull chocolate eyes didn't break eye contact with Phil’s warm blue ones as the older spoke.

"No. You weren't bad. You could never be bad. You just had a seizure, it went over 5 minutes and you had to come here."

"Oh. So I really wasn't bad?" There was a confused lilt in Wilbur's voice, like he couldn't comprehend being anything other than bad.

Phil felt a pang of hurt in his heart. The fact Wilbur even felt the need to ask pained Phil more than a punch in the gut.

"Wilbur, even if you were bad, you would never go to hospital for it. I'm not like that. I never will be." Wilbur frowned, not fully believing Phil. He just sounded like his father when he promised he would quit drinking and get his life together. The crying, and the guilt that made Wilbur truly believe that he was sorry. He would never he truly sorry, if he was, he would have gotten help before he permanently fucked up his children. 

"I'll go to rehab, I won't get angry at you anymore, I swear. We can be a normal family again, can't we?" 

There was always that lull period, it was short, but it was there. He would sober up for a day or two, at max. He would buy them things, let them eat the foods they liked. Become the loving father he was supposed to be. He would always go back to his bullshit in the end. Wilbur could only remember a handful of times where a bottle wasn't in the man’s hand. Wilbur and Techno had completely given up on a normal life by the third promise. He would always be a heartless alcoholic. He was heartless without the alcohol. Every adult was a repeating record, some were just better at pretending to be nice. He would just smile and nod and try to stay on Phil's good side. The longer Phil would stay nice, the better.

He just had to be good.

He would be perfect. 

Chapter Text

Wilbur stood in the doorway of his new room, feeling entirely out of place. It was too nice for him. He didn't deserve it. A warm duvet, a beanbag, plushies, large cupboards, paintings, a TV, anything you could think of. It was all too much. It was gorgeous, just too much. He stepped inside carefully, feeling small all of a sudden. He was so used to his 4 square foot room, only big enough to fit a bed and the bare essentials. This room could have fit a whole family comfortably. He pushed his palm down on the mattress, nearly wanting to cry at how comfortable it felt. There were no springs popping out or uneven bits. Too comfortable for me. He thought bitterly. But still, he turned around and smiled, telling Phil he adored it. Because if he was good, maybe he would deserve it someday. 

"So you like it, mate?" Phil asked, his voice light. "We can repaint it any colour you want, or we can buy things for it." Wilbur shook his head vigorously. 

"No, no. It's perfect the way it is. I don't deser- I don't need any more." He replied, stumbling over his words awkwardly, a fake smile still plastered on his face. Phil's smile broke for a moment, giving Wilbur a strange look. More concern. Why is everything I do concerning? 

"Alright mate, if you do want anything, don't be afraid to ask." He added, walking back over to the doorway. "I'll let you get settled. I'll show Techno his room also." Wilbur nodded gratefully, watching Phil close the door. Once Phil had left, he took a deep breath, still trying to process the sheer perfection of the room. In all honesty, he hated it. It was his dream bedroom, it was everything he could have possibly imagined and more. But he hated it because he hadn't done anything to earn it. He was just sitting there, waiting for the catch, for the reason it was all a lie. It was too perfect to be his, he was bad , wasn't he? Did Phil not know this? 

Wilbur tried to shake the confusion out of his mind, taking out his phone to text Shelby and James for the first time in a while. 

14:37- Wibble: hello?

14:37- Jimbo: hey man! how've you been? kinda been radio silent there for a bit. 

14:37- Jimbo: i heard about everything, you're doing better now? 

Wilbur’s eyes widened in alarm. How did he know? Wilbur hadn't told them anything.

14:38- Wibble: what? 

14:38- Wibble: how? 

14:38- Wibble: how do you know 

14:38- Jimbo: wilbur… it's been all over the news, man. 

14:38- Jimbo: you and techno are world famous. of course the media covered it 

Wilbur’s alarm grew into panic as he read James' message. The media. 

-"Cameras are always watching, even when you think they aren't." 

"Oh- oh god." Wilbur choked out quietly as his breathing started to pick up. He grabbed his phone, ignoring the other messages from James. He opened up his browser, searching his name.

BREAKING: Dancers Wilbur and Technoblade Soot are put into FOSTER CARE after their father's CRUEL ANTICS are revealed! Are they lying? FIND OUT! 

He swallowed back vomit as he frantically scrolled through articles, finding it harder and harder to breathe. 

JUST IN: Ungrateful dancers LIE about their father to get out of tournaments! 

Wilbur grabbed his neck as a sob tore out of his throat. He collapsed on all fours, desperately gasping for breath as his panic grew. There were dozens of articles lying about him and Techno. Antagonising them, turning people against them.

Years of **alleged** abuse land father of famous twins in jail! 

 He continued to wail, unable to see through tears. He vaguely registered someone grabbing his arms and pulling him into a hug. 

"-lbur? Mate, are you with m-" Wilbur desperately shook his head as his sobs turned into choked screams. 

"Wilbur, Wilbur, mate- it's okay! It's okay, I'm here. Can you hear me?" Wilbur continued to gasp for air, his panic starting to blur his vision. Phil hugged him closer, rocking him gently and trying to calm him down. "Wilbur, you need to calm down. I don't want you to start seizing, alright mate? Can you breathe for me? In, 1, 2, 3, 4. Hold, 1, 2, 3-" Wilbur shook his head, trying to push Phil away. 

"I- I- I can't- I can't breathe-!" He wheezed, his tone erratic. 

"You can, mate. I know you can. Just follow the rhythm." Phil gently tapped a rhythm on Wilbur’s knee, and after a few attempts, Wilbur was following. His breathing slowly started to steady, leaving him with only a slight tremble. Phil shushed him gently, pulling him back into a hug. 

"You gave me a bit of a scare, mate." Phil muttered with a faint smile. Wilbur frowned, feeling guilty. 

"...I'm sorry." He whispered back, breaking eye contact anxiously. 

"No, it's not your fault. You can't stop panic attacks." Phil replied, pausing for a few moments. "Do you want to talk about it?" He asked gently, and Wilbur buried his head in Phil's shoulder. 

"There's articles." He mumbled, and Phil stiffened. "There's articles about me. And Tech." 

"Fuck. I didn't want you to see those. Look, I don't know how the media found out, but I promise you it won't affect anything." Phil's tone was not backing up his words. "Don't worry about the articles, mate. They don't mean anything, alright?" 

"O-okay." Wilbur responded shakily. 

"And you're alright, now? Need anything?" 

Wilbur shook his head.

"No, I think I want to have a nap, if that's okay." Phil nodded kindly, standing up to leave. 

"Of course, call me if you need anything, alright?" Wilbur nodded, but he knew he wouldn't. 

14:46- Wibble: i need to go, bye james 

14:46- Jimbo: you okay man?

14:46- Wibble: yeah im okay i just need to take a break 

14:46- Wibble: i didn't know about the articles and im kinda freaking out 

Wilbur put his phone down, sitting down on his bed with his head in his hands. 

"Fuckkk." He muttered to himself, unable to shake the worry from his mind, despite Phil’s assurances. Maybe if he slept it off, he would feel better. 

Wilbur's eyes shot open when he heard a knock on his bedroom door. 

"Yeah? Who'zit?" He mumbled sleepily, running his fingers through his wiry hair. 

"Techno. Phil said it's dinner. He said we can eat it by the TV." Wilbur rubbed his eyes, his head feeling staticky from just waking up. He groaned as his legs refused to hold his weight when he tried to stand up. 

"Give me a second." He mumbled, taking a deep breath as he pulled himself up back onto the bed. 

"You okay?" Techno called through the door. "You sound a bit…" He trailed off. 

"I'm okay! Just waking up!" Wilbur called back, which technically wasn't a lie. He just wasn't mentioning the whole 'legs not functioning' part. He sighed shakily, trying to stand up again. Standing up shakily, he slowly hobbled across the room. He whimpered in pain as he crumbled onto the floor, twisting his ankle in the process. 

"Wilbur? Wilbur, can I come in? Are you okay?" Techno yelled through the door, worry lacing his tone. Wilbur responded with another pained screech as he tried to stand up again, his ankle screaming in protest. "Wilbur, I'm coming in."

 Techno barged through the door, his eyes widening when he saw Wilbur in a heap on the floor. 

"What happened? What did you do?" He asked, panicked. Wilbur shook his head weakly, breaking into a weak cough. 

"I- I don't know. I was just- I was trying to stand up, and- and my legs just gave up. I think I hurt my ankle." Techno looked down to Wilbur's ankle, and his skin crawled upon seeing the angle it was twisted at. No ankle should look like that. 

"How much does it hurt? Scale one to ten." 

"A fucking eleven." Wilbur replied, his voice strained as he tried to stop himself from crying out with pain. "I think it's broken." 

Techno bit his lip, assessing the state of his twin's ankle. It definitely looked broken. Shit. 

"I'm gonna go get Phil, okay? Just- just wait here. Don't move." Techno held his hands out, waiting for confirmation that Wilbur would stay put. Wilbur nodded shakily, his lips bleeding from biting on them. Techno sprinted out of the room, returning with a worried Phil seconds later. An equally worried Tommy was trailing behind. Phil’s eyes immediately darted to Wilbur's ankle, and he winced, he could tell that was painful. 

"Tom, could you go get the first aid kit?" He asked quietly, and Tommy nodded. "And a bag of ice too!" He called after the blonde, who yelled 'okay' back. 

"Does he not need to go to hospital?" Techno asked, sounding slightly panicked. Phil shook his head. 

"No point going to the hospital for something I know how to do myself. Tom broke his ankle a lot when he was younger. He loved climbing trees. It happened so many times that I just learned how to treat it myself." He replied, and Techno’s eyes narrowed slightly. He nodded mutely nonetheless. He was all-too-familiar with the good old 'climbing trees' excuse. It was their father's go-to. 

"Wilbur, are you able to lift your ankle so I can put something underneath it?" He asked gently, and Wilbur mumbled something akin to a yes. 

"Don't make it hurt more, please." He whispered as Phil gently placed a cushion underneath it. 

"I won't do anything I don't need to do." He replied, grabbing the ice that Tommy handed him. "Now, I'm going to wrap your ankle in ice for a bit. It's going to be really cold, and might hurt a bit. But it's necessary, okay?" Wilbur desperately shook his head, his eyes brimming with tears.

"No, no. Don't hurt it. Don't hurt me, please." He pleaded, his voice sounding even weaker with agony. Phil bit his lip. There was no way to treat it without it hurting, even just a little bit. 

"Wilbur, I need to. It won't get better if I don't fix it, okay mate? I promise that I'll be as gentle as I can, but it'll still hurt." Wilbur continued to shake his head, getting more and more frantic. Techno knelt down beside Wilbur, holding his twin's hand. 

"I'm here, Wil. It'll be alright." He assured him gently. Wilbur squeezed his eyes shut, waiting for the inevitable burst of pain from the ice touching his ankle. Phil slowly placed the ice around the brunette's ankle. Wilbur stopped himself from pulling his leg away as he whimpered in pain, tightening his grip on Techno’s hand. 

"I'm sorry mate. I'm trying to be gentle, your ankle is just fucked." Phil said quietly, feeling awful. 

"It hurts, Phil. It hurts. Make it stop." Wilbur pleaded, his grip on Techno’s hand becoming painful for the other. Phil frowned, his guilt only growing. 

"I know, I know. The ice has to stay on for a few minutes, we need to wait for the swelling to go down." Wilbur kept his eyes shut, trying to keep his breathing steady as the agony wracked his body. "Just a few minutes." Phil repeated quietly. 

Wilbur tried to distract himself from the pain by rambling about things he was interested in. Music, nature, bugs, anything he could think of. Anything that meant he didn't have to constantly focus on the searing pain that was screaming at him. Phil listened intently, a look of fascination painted on his face. Tommy was completely infatuated, occasionally chiming in with his own tidbits of knowledge. Techno just smiled and nodded along, having heard it all a hundred times before. He still loved it,, though. Seeing Wilbur in his element, talking about the things he loved. Wilbur found himself almost forgetting about his ankle, until he was unfortunately brought back to the reality of the situation. 

"I think I can take the ice off now." Phil said slowly, clearing his throat as Wilbur let out a relieved breath. "But I still have to set the bone right before I can put the boot on." Wilbur paled, looking up anxiously. 

"W-what does 'setting the bone right' entail..?" He asked quietly, not sure he wanted the answer. He looked over to Tommy, who looked equally as nervous He had broken his ankle countless times according to Phil, he would know better than anyone how painful it was. Wilbur was always passed out or had worse injuries when ever he had a broken ankle. He didn't exactly have an accurate pain gauge. Surely he could handle it, from everything else that had happened to him? Phil bit his lip. 

"I have to, uh…" He trailed off for a moment. "I have to move the ankle, and wrap it in bandages. By 'move', I mean I have to set the bone straight." Wilbur's stomach did a somersault as he thought about the nauseating pain that would cause.

"No- no, please don't- please don't do that. Don't hurt me. Don't hurt me please, Phil." He begged, making Phil feel physically ill. 

"I will never hurt you unless I have to, do you understand? I will never hurt you on purpose." 

"O-okay. Just- just do it quickly. Please." 

Phil nodded, seeming just as reluctant to do it as Wilbur. Techno squeezed Wilbur's hand gently, reminding him that he was beside him. Phil gently held Wilbur’s ankle, already making him wince in pain. 

"Just do it." He pleaded, the anticipation making it worse. Phil took a deep breath, and moved Wilbur’s ankle straight. Wilbur let out a blood curdling scream, his voice tearing through the room and making Tommy cover his ears. 

"STOP IT! STOP IT! MAKE IT STOP, TECHNO MAKE IT STOP!" He screamed, throwing his head back as he nearly gagged from the agony. Phil's brows furrowed as he tried to comfort the hysterical brunette while wrapping up his ankle as fast as he could. Wilbur kept screaming as the red hot searing pain blocked out the rest of his senses. 

-"You can't go anywhere if I fucking swash your ankle to pieces, can you? That might teach you a lesson." 

Wilbur’s screams became louder, if it was even possible as memories he had completely blocked out started to resurface. Techno tried to gently hold him down when he tried to sit up, barely aware of what he was doing. 

"Wil, stop. You'll hurt yourself more. Wilbur, be careful!" Wilbur shook his head, his voice starting to break from the constant screams. 

"HE'S- HE'S BREAKING IT- HE'S-" He started to become incomprehensible as the pain obscured everything else. 

"Wilbur, mate, I'm almost done. It's going to be okay. I'm so sorry, I know it hurts." Phil tried to soothe him, to no avail. Wilbur was barely listening as more memories threatened to resurface.

-"There. That'll fucking teach you to run away from me. You take the punishment or you get worse. You never learn, you'll always be a stupid fucking-"

The entire room yelled out in shock as Wilbur flinched violently, mashing his ankle into the floor before Phil could stop it. He couldn't even scream, his vision blurring from a more intense pain than all the others. Phil started to panic upon seeing the state of Wilbur's ankle now. It was so much worse than before. Phil turned around to Tommy, who was frozen in horror. 

"Tom, go and call an ambulance. Now, as fast as you can." Tommy nodded, sprinting out of the room. Wilbur continued to sob, his grip on Techno’s hand drawing blood as his nails dug into Techno’s palm. Techno just bit his lip and said nothing, knowing Wilbur needed something to hold. 

"It's going to be okay, Wilbur." He whispered, knowing the brunette could barely hear him. "Just breathe." He added, noticing Wilbur’s breathing had started to pick up. He gently tapped a rhythm on his twin's arm with his free hand. Wilbur could barely hear it, the light feeling being completely overshadowed. Wilbur couldn't even move as he felt the ice being placed back over his ankle. He couldn't even tell anyone when those black spots started to dance across his peripherals. He couldn't tell anyone anything as his head violently jerked to the side. Techno’s eyes widened as he immediately clocked what was happening. 

"Phil. Phil, he's seizing." 

"Oh shit." Phil paled, this was the last thing they needed.

Wilbur was running, sprinting down the stairs in a desperate attempt to get outside. There was a payphone about 10 minutes away, if he ran he could make it there and call someone to help him and Techno. He just had to outrun his father and hide outside until he gave up looking for him. Couldn't be that hard, right? He pushed back the twisting pain in his stomach as he rounded the corner and dived towards the door, pulling it open and rushing outside. He was immediately met with the biting winter frost on his face. He was only wearing a t-shirt, but he had bigger worries than pneumonia right now.

"GET BACK HERE YOU LITTLE SHIT!" His father screeched behind him, causing Wilbur's heart to beat even faster. He started to gasp for breath as he sprinted through the grass and down the street, stumbling forward a few times but always catching himself. There was a gate coming up ahead, he vaulted over it and fell on his face momentarily. He screeched in pain, feeling his chin tear open. He stood back up nonetheless, and he kept going. He was shocked that he was still running, he would thank the adrenaline later. As he rounded the street and got out of the housing estate, he dived into a bush, hoping his father hadn't rounded the corner yet and seen him. He covered his mouth, breaths tearing out of his throat as petrified tears rolled down his cheeks. He just had to wait it out. He would give up if Wilbur hid well enough. 

"Where are you? I'll find you!" His father's voice had taken on a sing-song quality, sending shivers down Wilbur's spine as he heard it getting closer and closer. If he didn't make a sound, his father would go away. 

"You're in a bush, aren't you?" He jeered, making Wilbur’s panicked breaths increase. "I know you're around here. You couldn't have run anywhere else that fast." 

Wilbur froze as he heard that his father was quite literally right next to the bush he was hidden in. He kept his mouth covered, squeezing his eyes shut as he tried to stay completely silent. 

"There you are!"

 Wilbur screamed at the top of his lungs as he was dragged out of the bush by his hair. He screamed and begged as he was picked up roughly and carried back to the house, his sobs echoing down the street as he kicked desperately, trying to escape.

The moment they entered the house, his father threw him onto the floor, winding him completely. He locked the door, turning to look at the traumatised brunette with a murderous glare. 

"What made you think you would be able to leave?" He spat, with Wilbur desperately begging for forgiveness through strings of incoherent gibberish. 

"You can't go anywhere if I fucking swash your ankle to pieces, can you? That might teach you a lesson." Wilbur shook his head through tears, letting out heaving, strained breaths from the pain of being thrown on the floor. 

"P-please! I-I won't do it again! It was- it was a mistake! A stupid mistake!" He begged, barely able to speak from the unbelievable pain in his lungs. His father shook his head slowly, tut-tutting as he stepped forward, placing his foot over Wilbur’s ankle. The brunette's screams became even louder as he continued to beg. 

His vision flashed red hot as the pain became completely unbearable. He looked up weakly, barely conscious, seeing his father stomping on his ankle. He was destroying it and all Wilbur could do was scream as the agony slowly chipped at his consciousness until there was black.

Wilbur was violently startled awake by sirens beeping in his ears and a doctor rushing into the room, wide eyed. Wilbur was trembling, his breaths uneven as he tried to decipher what was reality. He stared forward blankly at his ankle, which was completely covered by bandages and held up by a sling attached to a hanger above him. Something had happened to his ankle. He barely had time to think about it as doctors swarmed around him, yelling about his heart rate and how it was dangerously high. 

"W-what's going on? What's happening to me?" He screeched, his voice shrill and panicked. He was gently shushed as they checked his vitals, but the lack of an answer only made his panic increase. "What are you doing to me? What are you doing?" His yells were cut off as something was injected into his arm. His eyelids immediately started to flutter and his head became heavy. 

"WHAT DID YOU DO TO ME?" He screamed, his voice losing power quickly. "What did- what did y…" He trailed off as he felt himself slowly lose consciousness. The last thing he saw was Techno push his way past the nurses and into the room. He sprinted over to Wilbur's bedside, his face panicked. He had likely heard Wilbur's screams and came running. Wilbur managed to smile faintly as he drifted off.

Chapter Text

Techno had gotten used to being the one on the sidelines. Wilbur had been affected a lot more by their shared trauma than he had. At least, that's what everyone thought. That's what they saw. Techno wasn't as unaffected as he liked to pretend. He got scared, he had nightmares, he had panic attacks, he had flashbacks. But the difference between the twins is that Techno learned to hide it, to push it down until it was unavoidable. He was getting pretty close to his tipping point. Like a kettle about to boil, he was about to overflow and everyone would suffer. Because Techno had to be the one holding things together. Wilbur was weak, easily pushed around, and Techno wasn't. So he naturally took on the role of protector. He couldn't be the shield forever. 

Because shields chip the more they're hit.

And they break. Then everyone suffers. 

There were a lot of facets to Techno that no one saw. He was caring, but Wilbur saw that. He was a worrier, but no one could possibly know that. Except for his mother, of course, but she was gone. He panicked quite easily, but he was expert at hiding it. To everyone else, he was a docile, quiet teen who was slightly overprotective of his brother. Which wasn't technically false, they just didn't see his inner panic. No one would ever be allowed to, emotion was weakness. Weakness meant getting hurt, being used. Wilbur was their weakness, Techno was their strength. When Wilbur broke his ankle, Techno wanted to scream, he wanted to cry. He wanted to shake Wilbur by the shoulders and ask him why he was constantly HURTING HIMSELF. 

Too far. 

When Wilbur was screaming in that hospital bed, Techno wanted to scream back, to rip apart the doctors who were making him feel that way. He would have killed them, if he was allowed to. But Phil was just outside, asleep. He couldn't let the man down, after the food and shelter he had provided them. So when Techno had made sure Wilbur was okay, he had excused himself to the bathroom. And he let himself go. He slid down the door of the stall, letting the tears fall onto the filthy tile, not even caring about the dirt on the floor. He knocked down the wall that was his stony composure, and he completely broke down. Granted himself the release of a sprinkle of emotion. He patched up the dam, just a little bit, keeping his metaphorical kettle from overflowing for now. After a few minutes, he picked himself up, wiped his eyes, and returned to the bench outside the hospital room. 

Phil frowned, watching Techno sit back down with what looked like no emotion. 

But Phil didn't know the state Techno had been in moments prior. And he never would, because Techno swore to never show that side to anyone. Ever. Crying didn't solve problems, it only prolonged the resolution of said problem. 

"You alright, Techno mate?" Phil asked quietly, looking down at Tommy, who was curled up asleep with his head resting on his lap. Techno nodded mutely, pushing back the anxiety stewing in his mind. "You sure? Today has been stressful for you. Not just Wilbur, you've had a hard few days, mate. You're allowed to be stressed, you know that don't you?" Phil sounded conflicted about something. Techno turned his head slightly, his eyes narrowed at Phil’s piercing eye contact. 

"Thank you, Phil. But I don't need to be coddled." He replied, no venom in his voice. Phil looked momentarily taken aback, blinking a few times to adjust himself. Techno just cleared his throat, staring forward blankly. "I've gotten by just fine without being coddled. I'm not going to become dependent now." There was a beat of silence. 

"You can be independent and still have a support system, mate." Phil replied gently, toeing the line between being overbearing and helpful. Techno felt slightly irritated by the comment. 

"I have Wilbur." He said simply. 

"Two broken people leaning on each other isn't a support system." Phil responded before he could stop himself. Techno’s head shot to the side to glare at Phil. 

"That was bold." He spat. "But I'm not broken, Phil Watson." His eyes narrowed further as he waited for Phil’s weak attempt at salvaging the conversation. But in Techno’s eyes, he had already lost. 

"I didn't mean it like that. I just meant that you both have the same exp-" Techno held up his arm silently, indicating that Phil should stop talking. 

"Just save it, please Phil. We both know what you meant." 

"I'm sorry, Techno. I hope that I didn't hurt your feelings." Phil mumbled, sounding genuinely sorry, which startled Techno a little. He didn't let it show, obviously. 

"It doesn't matter how I feel towards you, Phil. I tolerate you because you feed us. Your kindness is a nice touch, but it doesn't change anything." He uttered, holding eye contact as he said it. Phil frowned, not replying. Techno pulled his knees up to his chest, resting his head on his knees with a deep sigh. Phil was right about one thing, it had been a long day. 

Wilbur had been discharged from the hospital a day later, in crutches and an uncomfortable looking boot. Techno was glad to be going back home, sleeping on a hospital bed for two nights wasn't exactly ideal. He held onto Wilbur’s arm, helping him slowly hobble out to the car. He noticed that his twin was unusually silent, even at his already quiet standards. More nightmares, no doubt. 

"You okay?" He asked quietly, only receiving a weak nod in response. "Did you sleep okay?" 

"I was in a hospital with a broken ankle. Take a wild guess." Wilbur huffed, struggling to walk across the car park with the crutches. Techno frowned, nodding slowly.

"Point well made." He mumbled, smiling weakly as he helped Wilbur into the car. 

They arrived home and Techno took the first opportunity he could to creep into his room. He was finding it increasingly more difficult to hold up the facade for long amounts of time. But it was fine, he had more free time. He sat down on the floor for a few minutes, trying and failing to meditate. He sighed, pulling out his phone to pass the time despite hating technology with every fibre of his being. He scrolled through his notifications, which had piled up due to the fact he never used his phone. It was mostly just spam emails and missed calls from numbers he didn't even recognise. Who would be calling him? He clicked into the notification to get more information, his brows furrowed when he saw that the latest missed call had only been 20 minutes ago. That wasn't Wilbur’s number, or anyone else he knew, for that matter. He looked at it for a few moments, debating whether he should call it back or not. If they had called multiple times, surely it was important. He clicked the green button in the corner of the missed call, and held the phone up to his ear nervously, letting it ring. The person on the other end answered almost immediately. Techno remained dead silent, waiting for the other to talk. His finger hovered over the hang up button, his heart beating out of his chest. 

"Techno?" 

Techno felt his stomach sink and his entire body freeze up as soon as he heard their voice. Every fibre of his body was screaming HANG UP! But he couldn't. 

"D-Dad? How are you-" Techno found himself lost for words, terror eating away at his brain. There was a long, drawn out silence that only made Techno more petrified. 

"I got bail. I'm out for now, and I'm going to find you both. I'm going to bring you both home whether you like it or not. I told you I would fight for you both, and I intend to. You're not going to have a single minute of freedom for as long as you live. I'm going to make every second you're alive a living hell for crossing me." 

Techno was going to be sick. 

"No matter how hard you try to escape, you never will. I drag you out of that bastard Watson's house and make you sorry you ever tried to trick me. You're fucking d-" Techno finally gathered the control over himself to click hang up, his breaths uneven as he launched his phone across the room. He stared forward, his eyes wide as he tried desperately to calm himself down. Emotions are weakness, weakness gets you hurt. Emotions are weakness, weakness gets you hurt. He repeatedly chanted to himself, squeezing his eyes shut and trying to breathe slowly. His hands crept up to his neck and he started to tear at the skin, tears rolling down his cheeks as he stared blankly at the floor, barely registering what he was doing. His fingers curled into his skin, his breathing refusing to slow down. The words he'd just heard were being burned into his skull. 

This is weakness, this is weakness, you're weak, you're weak. You're crying. 

He blinked rapidly, realising what he had done to himself after feeling blood on his hands. 

"Fuck. Fuck fuckfuck. " He mumbled frantically, standing up and rushing into his bathroom to try and clean himself up. He looked in the mirror, his eyes widening at the damage he had done. His neck was completely torn apart, the skin completely scraped off. "Oh gods." He grabbed some toilet paper, trying to stop the blood from flowing, to no avail. His panic started to resurface when it dawned on him that he would have to ask Phil for help. Phil would ask questions, Techno couldn't explain it to him. He would know that he was weak, then. 

So he took a deep breath, tried his best to ignore the pain, and put on the only turtleneck he owned. He was fine. 

Techno sat down on the bathroom floor for a while, thinking about absolutely nothing. He stared into space, feeling the cold tile underneath him. He tapped his finger against the side of the sink, listening to the quiet dink it made. Once he had nearly stopped shaking, he stood up silently. He practiced his fake smile in the mirror, deeming it believable. He looked like he always did, which was enough. He shut the bathroom door mutely, turning around to his own room once again. He examined the state of it, making sure to keep his line of sight away from the phone. Out of sight, out of mind. It looked like the room of a normal 16 year old, not a traumatised one who had just had a violent panic attack. 

And that was enough. 

He slunk down the stairs and into the living room, seeing Wilbur and Tommy huddled on the couch, playing Minecraft, whatever that was. They both had a laptop on their laps. 

"I think that guy is hacking." Wilbur huffed, pointing to the corner of his screen. Tommy peered over to Wilbur's laptop, his eyes narrowed as he watched the screen, and after a moment, he nodded. 

"Looks like it. Well spotted big man. If you type /watchdog you can report them." He replied, and Wilbur oooh -ed quietly. 

"I will do that." He mumbled, typing it in slowly. Techno sat down on the couch beside him, watching Wilbur play wordlessly. Wilbur smiled over at Techno, putting his laptop aside for a moment. 

"Hello Techno! You should try playing Hypixel, I think you'd be better at it than me. I'm really bad at it." Techno tilted his head slightly, looking at the screen, and his eye twitched as pain shot down his neck. Wilbur noticed, his smile faltering for a second, but he pretended not to notice. 

"What even is a Hypixel?" Techno asked, earning a giggle from Tommy. 

"There's lots of games on it, but we're playing bedwars. It's a game where there's people on different teams, me and Wilbur are on the same team, and you have to break people's beds. You also have to kill the other teams, but if they still have their bed, they respawn. If you kill them and they have no bed, they're out of the game." Techno blinked, that explanation from Tommy going completely over his head. "You get it?" 

"No, not at all, but I'll try." He replied with a smile. Wilbur frowned, he was able to clock Techno’s fake smiles from a mile away. If he was bothered by it, he didn't say anything. He took the laptop from Wilbur’s lap, and Wilbur showed him the controls. Techno repeatedly fell off the map, making them both giggle. 

If you had asked Wilbur Soot if he thought Techno was in agony at that moment, he would have said "Of course not!" But Techno was already starting to feel lightheaded, not that he'd tell anyone. He looked down, his anxiety spiking when he saw a small amount of blood starting to leak through the fabric of the turtleneck. He swallowed nervously, ignoring it. He was fine. Once he'd started to get the hang of the Minecraft controls, he joined a game lobby with Tommy. He immediately put Tommy to shame, getting 2 kills in the first minute.

"What the fuck?!" Tommy yelled with an awed grin. Wilbur just watched him silently, his eyes slightly widened. Techno attempted a smile, but it twisted into a grimace as another shot of pain buzzed down his neck. He bit his lip, trying not to wince. Wilbur gave him another look, opening his mouth to say something, but closing it again after a moment. He just frowned, knowing something was odd. Tommy yelled with joy as Techno got another kill, stealing the other team's bed. 

"Techno, are you sure you've never played this before?" He asked playfully. 

"I- I really… I really-, I haven't!" Techno felt a wave of dizziness the moment he spoke. Wilbur's head shot over to look at Techno, unable to ignore the way his voice slurred. Tommy didn't notice at all, and he kept playing. 

"Techno, are you okay?" Wilbur mumbled under his breath, inaudible to Tommy. Techno nodded, gasping with pain and grabbing his neck, which hurt it even more. Wilbur grabbed Techno’s shoulders, holding his twin upright. "Tech?" He repeated, louder this time. Techno's head lolled to the side as he mumbled incoherently, trying to tell Wilbur he was fine. Tommy had noticed that something was wrong by now, putting his laptop aside.

"What's wrong? What's-"

You're weak , was Techno’s last blurred thought before his mind went blank. 

 There was a collective screech as Techno launched forward, unconscious.

 Wilbur dived forward and grabbed the teen, stopping him from falling face first onto the floor. 

"TECH!" He screamed, shaking Techno's shoulders violently as he panicked. "TECHNO WAKE UP!" Tommy pulled Wilbur’s arm away, his eyes wide. 

"Wilbur, you'll hurt him! Stop it!" He shrieked, and Wilbur pulled back, a sob ripping out of his throat. 

"DAD!" Tommy yelled, and Phil immediately sprinted into the room, a shocked expression painted on his face. 

"Toms, what happened?" He cried, kneeling down next to an unconscious Techno, who was being hugged by a hysterical Wilbur. 

"WHAT'S WRONG WITH HIM?" Wilbur screamed, tears soaking his face. Phil gently tried to pry Techno out of Wilbur's arms, his stomach somersaulting with fear when he saw the red leaking through his turtleneck. 

"Wilbur mate, let me see him." He asked quietly, the urgency in his tone making Wilbur let go. He slowly peeled the material off of Techno's neck, gasping violently at what was there. Wilbur screamed, his sobs becoming louder and more panicked. Tommy pulled Wilbur into a hug, trying to block his eyes. Phil’s eyes widened in horror as he tried to dab the wound with wipes.

"He's been bleeding for about half an hour. Fuck. This is bad. This is not good at all."

Chapter Text

Techno woke up, lying on the couch, his head feeling incredibly heavy and misty. He stiffened at the sensation of something wrapped around his neck, and he carefully clasped his hand around it, his brows furrowed. He realised after a moment that it was bandages. He squinted across the room, seeing there was no light shining through the curtains. It was nighttime.

He tried to sit up, groaning and letting his head rest back on the pillow when he quickly realised he didn't have the energy to lift himself up. The simple movement was enough to give him a headache. There was a quiet gasp from underneath him, and he peered over the edge of the couch to see a sleepy looking Wilbur curled up on the floor beside him. His hair was sticking out at all angles, and his eyes had dark circles around them. 

"Wil?" He grumbled, wincing at how gravelly his voice sounded. Wilbur’s eyes immediately welled up with tears the moment Techno spoke. 

"Why didn't you tell me something was wrong?" He asked quietly, sounding hurt. "Why did you hide it? I could have helped you, but you passed out and- and-" Wilbur covered his mouth to muffle his cries. "I- I thought I'd- I'd lost you, Tech." Techno swallowed back a lump in his throat, breaking eye contact nervously. He didn't know how to respond to that. 

"I- I didn't- I didn't notice that I was- that I was hurt." He mumbled weakly, and Wilbur’s hurt expression deepened. 

"Why are you lying ? " Wilbur's voice lilted, sounding high pitched and accusatory. "What did I do?" Techno bit his lip. He couldn't tell Wilbur what had happened. If Techno had reacted that viscerally to the phone call, he didn't even want to think of how Wilbur would handle it. "Talk to me. We promised we would never lie to each other, Techno. What are you hiding from me?" There were panicky undertones to Wilbur's soft voice as he tried to coax Techno into explaining. 

"I just zoned out, okay? I zoned out and I stretched my neck a little bit. That’s it." Techno tried his best to put emotion into his words, to sound genuine, but Wilbur would always read him like a fucking book. He pressed his hands onto the floor, trying to calm his breathing. Techno gasped quietly, instinctively reaching forward to comfort his twin despite being the one causing Wilbur's panic. 

"Tech, you're fucking- you're fucking scaring me. I saw what I saw. Your neck was- it was-" Wilbur paused, trying to regain at least an ounce of composure. "Your neck was fucking drenched. Zoning out can't do all of that, Techno! What happened?" Wilbur's eyes narrowed, his voice wavering slightly. "What did you see? You saw something, didn't you?" 

Techno was starting to feel cornered by the barrage of questions. There weren't many things more painful than lying to Wilbur's face. He could always tell, and it hurt him. But Techno had a genuine reason this time, he couldn't tell Wilbur what he heard. It would destroy him.

"I didn't, Wilbur. I'm not lying to you." He said quietly, trying to keep his tone measured, he wasn't the best at keeping his temper when Wilbur got like this. "I didn't see anything. I swear." 

"Swear on Mum." Wilbur demanded, seeing Techno immediately pale. "Do it!" He screeched, becoming hysterical. Techno’s eyes widened, and he grabbed Wilbur’s shoulders gently, trying to ground the brunette. 

"Wil, calm down! You'll seize!" He pleaded, Wilbur’s ragged breaths starting to worry him.

"STOP CHANGING THE FUCKING SUBJECT!" Wilbur screamed rawly, his shoulders heaving up and down as a sob escaped along with it. Techno hadn't seen him this distressed in a long time. "Tech, if you're fucking- if you're fucking hurting yourself- I don't know what I'm gonna do! Please!" 

Techno started to tremble, which petrified Wilbur even more. Techno doesn't tremble. 

"Wilbur, it's okay. I'm okay. I'm not going anywhere, alright? It was just an accident, I'm not going to hurt myself like that again." The little amount of anger thaf had been stewing in the back of his mind immediately fizzled away the second he saw Wilbur getting upset. Techno leaned forward to wrap Wilbur in a hug, feeling a pang of guilt when Wilbur pulled away, shaking. 

"S-swear on Mum. You- you changed the subject. Swear to me that you 'just zoned out.' Promise me that you're not lying." 

Techno lifted his head up slowly, his eyes drifting over to look at his twin. Wilbur’s eyes were slightly unfocused, the way they always were when he was panicking. 

"Listen." He began cautiously. "If I told you that I'm purposefully not telling you something to protect you, would y-" Wilbur immediately started frantically shaking his head, and Techno trailed off.

"You're lying! You're still lying to me!" He yelled, his voice breaking as he tried to push himself further away from his twin, covering his eyes. Techno felt the quiet anger starting to resurface with a vengeance. 

"Wilbur, I'm going to lose my fucking patience if you don't let me talk. I'm warning you." Techno spat, seemingly already having lost his patience. 

"STOP! STOP IT!" Wilbur shrieked through tears. Techno clenched his fists, his brows furrowing. 

"Wilbur. Listen to me. I can't tell y-" 

"DON'T BALL YOUR FISTS AT ME!" He wailed, trying to distance himself from his twin. "You're freaking me the fuck out, Technoblade! Please just-" 

Techno roughly slammed his palms down on the side of the couch. It didn't make a noise, but the message was loud and clear. Wilbur gasped, looking over at Techno like he had stabbed him in the chest.

"Wilbur, I fucking swear to you that I'm keeping this private for a reason! If you'd fucking listen to me you'd know! So shut the FUCK UP!" He snapped, the last morsel of patience he had breaking to pieces. Wilbur froze, looking at Techno with a sudden blinding fear. A fear Techno recognised easily. A fear Techno had always protected Wilbur from.

"OKAY!" Wilbur bawled, his voice shrill and frantic as he covered his head out of habit. "Just- just don't h-hurt me! Think- think about- about what you're doing!" 

Techno froze.

Like father, like son. 

"Wil- I'm-" He began desperately, the guilt overtaking him almost immediately like a tidal wave. He tried to hug his twin, and Wilbur flinched back with a frightened whimper. A wave of nausea shot through Techno when he saw the terror in Wilbur’s eyes for the second time. You caused that, you're scaring him. "Wilbur-" He trailed off, biting his lip. He couldn't seem to find the words for his anguish. Wilbur stood up silently, wincing at the shooting pain up his bandaged ankle and putting more pressure on the opposite leg. His movements had lost the emotion they previously had. He had completely locked up, staring at Techno with misted over eyes. His defence mechanism had kicked in, and that was Techno’s fault. 

"I'm gonna go to my room. Just- don't bother me, please. Keep your lies away from me." Wilbur's voice was quiet, resembling the way he'd talk to Techno after being hit by their father. It made Techno feel physically sick to see. Wilbur grabbed his crutches, hobbling out of room carefully. 

"Wilbur, I'm sorry." He pleaded, receiving only a weak nod in response. Techno stood up, following Wilbur out. 

"Wil, you're going to need help getting up the stairs on crutches." Wilbur shook his head. 

"I don't need help." He spat, his voice still subdued. Techno frowned, grabbing Wilbur’s shoulder to stop him. Wilbur swung around, his eyes wide and crazed. 

"Get your hand off me." He whispered dangerously. "Right now." Techno took a step back, shaking with a mixture of anger, sadness and guilt. All he could do was watch Wilbur make his way upstairs, not wanting to make things even worse.

You lost your temper. No matter how hard you try you'll always have your father's temper. 

Techno managed to doze off after about an hour of contemplating his life choices and feeling incredibly guilty. He woke up the next morning when he heard Phil opening the living room door. He lifted his head up weakly, and Phil smiled warmly at him. 

"You alright mate? You gave us a bit of a scare." He said, sitting down on the armchair across from the couch Techno was lying on. 

"Yeah, I'm okay, just a bit fuzzy." He mumbled in response, his headache from last night still lingering. Phil nodded understandingly, but his brows furrowed after a moment. 

"Where's Wilbur? He insisted on sleeping in here so he could be there when you woke up." Techno's face immediately crumpled into guilt once again, confusing Phil slightly. He cleared his throat once he realised Techno wasn't going to say anything. "Something happen, mate?" He posed it as a casual question, but from the little amount of time he had known Techno, he knew the boy had a temper. And he knew Wilbur wouldn't take it lightly if he argued with him. 

Techno pursed his lips, his eyes glued to the floor. There were a few beats of silence, but Phil waited patiently for Techno to speak. He had all the time in the world.

"We- um…" Techno paused, struggling to find the right words. Between his complete ineptitude at handling emotions and his splitting headache, he was finding it difficult to speak on it. "We argued." 

"What did you argue about?" Phil’s voice was gentle, it wasn't angry or accusatory. He didn't want Techno to lock up, or stop talking. He would find out what happened and check up on Wilbur then. 

"He asked me, um, he wanted to know how I hurt my neck." Techno swallowed nervously, and Phil nodded along, encouraging him to keep talking. "And I didn't want to tell him. He kept asking, and, uh, he was freaking out a bit. He thought I was hurting myself on purpose." 

"Are you?" Phil asked quietly, trying to hide the nervous undertones in his voice. "It's nothing to be ashamed of." 

"No!" Techno replied defensively, frowning. "I wouldn't do that. But Wilbur was scared that I was. I told him that I wasn't, so he kept asking me why I did it. I wouldn't tell him, so he was, uh, he was yelling, not angry, he was panicking a bit. But I got frustrated. I yelled back, and I, uh, I scared him. And he- he flinched at me, and I feel awful now." His voice had descended into a quiet, guilty mumble, barely coherent. But Phil understood, nodding slowly. 

"It's alright mate. Arguments happen, but we can fix them." He soothed, seeing Techno become visibly upset at himself. Techno just nodded faintly, his eyes still glued to the floor. "Are you comfortable with telling me why, or is it personal?" 

"It's personal." Techno replied immediately, leaving no room for argument. Phil nodded, unable to hide his frown. What if it was something bad, or dangerous? What if he was-

Shush Phil, father instincts.

"Okay mate, but if you need to talk to me about it, you know you can." 

"Mhm." Techno sounded preoccupied, he probably needed time to think, so Phil stood up to leave him alone for a while. 

Phil went back upstairs to wake Wilbur up, finding that he was already awake, and there was a distant giggling noise coming from his room. Two giggles. Smiling, he peeked his head into Tommy’s room, seeing it was empty. 

Mystery solved. 

He knocked quietly on Wilbur’s door, and there was a slightly anxious come in! from Wilbur. The brunette's anxiety immediately melted when he realised it wasn't Techno. 

"Hello Phil." He said quietly, his cheeks pink from laughing. Tommy was sitting on the bed beside him, his cheeks matching Wilbur’s. It took everything in Phil's power not to aww at the two, who were both grinning. 

"What joke did I miss out on?" Phil asked jokingly. Wilbur smiled sheepishly and Tommy broke into laughter again. "Clearly not jokes for the ears of an old man like me, then." He huffed lightheartedly, making Wilbur giggled quietly. It made Phil's heart warm, seeing Wilbur smile and laugh like that. Like he was really 16, gaining just a sliver of his childhood back. He blinked silently, coming out of his short trance. He was going to check in on Wilbur about the argument with Techno, but he didn't want to dampen the mood. So he just smiled along, listening to Wilbur and Tommy banter back and forth about which animal each of them were. 

"No, no, Wil, I'm the raccoon, you're an anteater." Tommy explained with the cadence of a businessman, making Wilbur smile.

"AN ANTEATER? What is this bullshit? Why am I the ugliest, most worthless animal? I'm definitely the raccoon!" He complained, pouting with mock anger. 

"We can both be raccoons, deal?" 

"Two little crime boys." Wilbur agreed with a content smile. Tommy cheered.

"YES! I'm a dirty crime boy!" He announced, raising his head upwards with fake arrogance. Wilbur giggled again. 

Phil backed up silently, closing the door with an amused smile, letting them have their fun. He would talk to Wilbur later, he didn't have to reconcile with Techno right away. Wilbur deserved to have fun, after the difficult couple of days he'd had. 

Techno frowned at the laptop, watching someone fly across the map right in front of him. What was even the fun in hacking? He was too immersed in the game to notice Phil entering the room. 

"Hiya mate." He greeted, startling Techno. His eyes darted up to look at Phil, trying not to glare. 

"You scared me." He mumbled, feeling embarrassed. Phil smiled weakly. 

"Sorry about that. So I take it you're enjoying minecraft?" Techno pursed his lips, frowning. He had to admit, despite his supposed hatred for technology, minecraft was quite fun. 

"I suppose so," was the answer he settled on. "It passes the time while my neck heals." Phil nodded, clearing his throat. Techno had noticed by now that Phil always cleared his throat before saying something Techno wouldn't want to hear. His eyes narrowed slightly. 

"Do you want to talk to Wilbur?" Phil asked carefully, his eyes carefully watching Techno for apprehension. "He's upstairs with Tom right now." 

Techno bit his lip. He probably should. There was no reason to let this little scrap turn into something more petty. It was easier to just resolve it. 

"Uh, yeah. I'll talk to him." He mumbled, and Phil nodded, looking slightly relieved. 

"I'll just go get Tom out of Wilbur’s room so you can talk in private." 

"Okay, thank you Phil."

Techno opened the door quietly, awkwardly peeking his head in to see Wilbur staring at him, his doe-like brown eyes wide and curious. There was a hint of apprehension there too. He smiled weakly, and Wilbur returned it. A good sign. Techno walked over to sit down on Wilbur’s bed, waiting to see which one of them would talk first. It was Wilbur. 

"Do you remember, years ago, when I went to go to the bathroom and I didn't know Mum was in there?" 

Techno frowned, his brows scrunching together in confusion. That was unexpectedly off topic. But Wilbur always had a reason for these kinds of things. 

"I don't think so." He replied. "But go on." 

"Do you remember that I came out crying?" 

Techno's face lit up with recognition. "Yeah, I remember that. You wouldn't tell me what happened." 

Wilbur bit his bottom lip, something he did when he was trying to hold in tears. Why was he on the verge of tears? 

"I went in there, and she had a knife." Wilbur said quietly, not elaborating further. But Techno already had the picture, and it wasn't a pretty one. 

"Oh." He whispered quietly, unsure of what else to say. 

"Do you understand my worry? Do you understand how fucking scary it is to see your neck severed like that?" Wilbur took a deep, somewhat frustrated breath as he continued to fight back tears. 

"When I see you hiding your pain, like- like she did. I don't- I don't want you to end up like her, Technoblade. I don't want you to hurt yourself like she did." 

Techno’s eyes widened. 

"What do you mean 'end up like her'? I wouldn't run away." He replied, his confusion being heightened by Wilbur’s pained expression. 

"I don't think she ran away, Techno." 

That couldn't be right. 

"W-what do you mean?" Techno stammered, but deep down he knew exactly what Wilbur meant. 

"You know what I mean." Wilbur mumbled sadly, a silent tear rolling down his cheek. Techno shook his head slowly, an agonised smile creeping up his face. He didn't even know why he was smiling. Everything was numb all of a sudden. 

Wilbur was just lying, that's it. 

He's just lying. 

"That's not true. We'll meet her again someday, we'll see her. I know she'll come back and find us, Wilbur. I know she will." He was becoming frantic, trying to justify what he wanted to believe. He had always believed he would see her again. 

"Techno-" Wilbur began, looking distraught at Techno’s descent into grief. "Tech, she's not here, she won't be." He was speaking gently, but there was no nice way to say that. Techno shook his head again, more panicked this time, completely ignoring the agonising shots of pain shooting down his neck. Wilbur had put the puzzle pieces together a long time ago, he had processed it. The bathroom incident, her constant depressive episodes, (but she told them that she was just ill) the signs were all there. The twins were just too young to pick up on them. Until Wilbur figured it out, and it hit him harder than a cement truck. He needed Techno to know. He needed to tell him in a safe place, so he wouldn't find out in a worse way. He needed to explain to Techno why seeing him hurt was so worrying-

traumatic.

It was crushing to see how distraught Techno was, but he needed to know, he deserved to. He was just grateful that Techno could process it in a safe environment, unlike Wilbur. He had to hide his grief, and keep constantly practising ballet, and going to shows. It had been hell on Earth. 

"Stop lying to me, Wilbur. Stop it right now. Don't- don't do that to me." Techno was just begging at this point, begging for a reason to deny it. Wilbur just pulled him into a hug. 

"I'm sorry Tech. It's okay to be sad, you're allowed to be sad." Wilbur nearly felt like saying please be sad, you're allowed to grieve. It's okay. 

He held Techno as the teen started to sob into Wilbur's shoulder. He soothed him quietly, rubbing circles into his back and promising him it would be alright. Wilbur couldn't help but feel relieved. Techno was finally allowing himself to feel. And Wilbur would be there to help him through it. 

"It's all going to be alright."

Chapter Text

Phil entered Wilbur’s room a few hours later to call them for dinner, finding them curled up on Wilbur's bed, fast asleep. He frowned, seeing Techno’s eyes were red rimmed and his nose and cheeks were too. He wouldn't comment on it. 

"Boys?" He called gently, and Wilbur’s head immediately shot up. He was always a light sleeper, Phil had noticed. He squinted his eyes for a moment, as if he was trying to decipher who was in front of him. He relaxed slightly when he realised it was Phil. 

"Hi P'il.." He mumbled sleepily, rubbing his eyes. "I didn't know I fell asleep. Sorry." 

"It's alright mate, you're allowed to sleep. Could you wake Techno? It's dinnertime." Wilbur nodded, gently nudging his twin until he stirred awake. Phil turned to go back downstairs, letting them talk amongst themselves for a moment. Wilbur smiled weakly at Techno, a smile Techno didn't return. His eyes were blank and his mouth lowered, making him look utterly depressed. Wilbur frowned. 

"Uh, are you hungry?" 

Techno shook his head, but he sat up nonetheless. "I'll try to eat something." He mumbled, his voice croaky from his previous sobbing. 

"Okay, let's go." Wilbur held onto the side of the bed as he grabbed his crutch. He waited for Techno to adjust his bandages and they walked downstairs to the kitchen. 

They entered the room to Tommy pouting,  his brows furrowed and Phil looking exasperated. Wilbur swallowed nervously, hoping they hadn't argued. 

"What's wrong, Tommy?" Wilbur asked, and Tommy’s pout loosened slightly. 

"I don't like meatballs. That's what we're having for dinner." He huffed, glaring at Phil. Wilbur’s eyes widened, his head shooting over to look at Phil, who was waking into the kitchen with a tray of spaghetti. Is he not scared of getting hit? If Wilbur had complained about the food options at home-

No. Phil’s house was home now. 

"Oh. Well it's not so bad. At least you get food!" Wilbur replied, and Tommy’s frown changed slightly. It was less sulky and more guilty. 

"You're right." He mumbled, taking the plate from Phil with a forced thanks. "It's better than nothing."

Wilbur’s eyes followed the plate that was making its way onto his placemat with a look of pure hatred. It was nothing against Phil's cooking, it was nicer than his father's microwave meals, it was more his general dislike for food that was fuelling the hatred. He forced a smile, nodding in thanks as he picked up his fork. He looked over to check on Techno, whose head was lowered, with his eyes glued to his lap. Wilbur sighed, poor Techno.

The moment Phil sat down, his phone rang. He picked it up to check who it was, and his face paled slightly. He looked up to everyone else, who were staring at him curiously.

"Sorry boys, I need to take this. It's important." He stood up and left the room, closing the door behind him. Wilbur tilted his head when Tommy stood up to press his head against the door. He cupped his hands over his ear as he listened carefully. There were a few moments of silence, and after a moment Tommy took a step back from the door, pale as a ghost. 

"What did he say, Tommy?" Wilbur asked gently, seeing Tommy’s expression. He pushed back his own anxiety for a moment. Techno shuffled in his seat, seeming uncomfortable. Like he knew something. Wilbur could read him like a book, and he knew Techno knew something. He pushed back his suspicions, as well as his anxiety, waiting for Tommy to speak. 

"I- uh. I-" Tommy shook his head, stumbling back to sit on his chair. "You're not gonna like it." 

"Tommy…?" Wilbur’s anxiety started to overpower his ability to mask it, his voice wavering. Techno was staring at his own hands, his eyes wide. "Tommy what is it?" Wilbur was trying to keep his tone measured. 

Tommy opened his mouth to speak, but fell silent when Phil re-entered the room, looking physically ill. He sat down quietly, and Wilbur’s stomach was curling with fear. It was something bad, wasn't it? 

"Boys-" Phil trailed off immediately, taking a deep breath. This startled the twins slightly, they had never seen Phil’s optimistic demeanor crack before. "Boys. I've got some… less than ideal news." He paused, leaving a few beats of silence. 

"Cut to it, Phil." Techno spat, and Wilbur frowned at his brother. 

Phil took another deep breath. "I just want you both to know that we'll get thr-" 

"P-Phil. Please." Wilbur snapped, cutting across Phil. 

"Your father is out." 

There was a numbing silence, shock settling into Wilbur's bones.

"W-what? What did you-?"

"He's out of prison. He's on bail." Phil bit his lip, looking like the words physically pained him. Wilbur’s face became ashen grey as he paled, tears brimming in his eyes. He started to shake, his breathing picking up. "Mate, it's okay. He can't hurt you, I promise." Wilbur turned to Techno for comfort, but he saw that the teen looked just as petrified as he did. 

So Wilbur went with the second best option. He started to wail. 

Techno pushed his chair over to console his brother. He didn't want Wilbur to be as scared as he had been. Wilbur’s hands crept up his arms and he tried to claw at the skin as he screeched and cried. Techno shook his head, mumbling to Wilbur and trying to get him to stop. Phil carefully cleared the table, pushing it back in case Wilbur started to seize. There was nothing he could do but watch, and hope that Techno would be able to comfort him. He spared Tommy a glance, who was nervously clenching and unclenching his fists. 

"You okay Toms?" He whispered, and Tommy nodded weakly. His head shot over to Wilbur as the brunette started to shout incoherently, which he did when he was in deep panic.

"He- he's- he's going to- going to f-find us. He's- he'll kill- o-oh god-" Techno's gentle hushing and soothing became more frantic as he felt Wilbur's breathing become even faster. 

"Wil- it's going to be-" Techno trailed off. He couldn't lie. He didn't even know whether his father's threats were true or not. Wilbur's head kept lurching forward as he gasped in between cries, trying to catch a breath. 

"Wilbur, calm down, okay? We'll figure it out, won't we?" 

Wilbur shook his head. And his head dipped backwards seconds later, and he whimpered in pain as he started to convulse. 

"Fuck fuck fuck, uh, Phil?" Techno gently took Wilbur off of the chair and onto the floor. Phil was at his side milliseconds later, holding the brunette's injured ankle up so he wouldn't hurt it. 

"Techno, take a step back, okay? This is overwhelming for you." Phil said slowly, holding Wilbur as the brunette continued to seize, his eyes rolling into the back of his head. 

Techno distanced himself from the situation, pulling his knees up to his chest and staring into space, trembling. Tommy shuffled over to the teen, grimacing. 

"Are you okay?" He asked quietly. 

"Of course I'm fucking not." Techno spat, barely thinking. Tommy recoiled slightly, sighing. "Sorry." Techno mumbled after a moment, feeling a pang of guilt. 

"No, it's okay. I can't imagine how you must feel." The blonde assured him, his voice lowering more than Techno was used to. He hadn't known Tommy for long, but he knew it took a lot to make that kid go quiet. "Did you know?" He whispered, startling Techno with the sudden question.

"What?" 

"You knew, beforehand, didn't you?" Tommy repeated. Techno stiffened. 

"I'm not- understanding…" He stammered, trailing off. He would play dumb for now.

"You knew. You knew about his bail, I saw it in your face. How did you know? Is that why you hurt your neck?" 

Fuck. This kid wasn't as stupid as he looked. 

"I-" He was at a loss for words, or excuses.

"How did you know, Techno?" Tommy's voice was hushed, trying to keep it audible to only Techno. "How did you know?"

Techno’s brows furrowed. "I- I can't tell you." He muttered anxiously, burying his head in his knees completely. Like he was hiding from something. Tommy frowned. 

"Why not? W-" Tommy was cut off by a piercing scream coming from Wilbur as he started to come out of his seizure. Techno gasped and moved back over to Wilbur's side as a string of strangled groans forced their way out of Wilbur’s chest. Phil bit back tears as he watched the teen start to come back to reality. He whimpered in pain, desperately trying to distance himself from everyone else, but not getting far due to his ankle and how weak he was. He lost all strength as a bout of nausea caused him to fall limp. He started to sob once again, covering his eyes. Everything felt so intense all of a sudden. 

"-ilbur mate, it's okay. You're sa-" 

Wilbur tried to sit up again, only to be met with another staggering bout of nausea. He leaned forward, holding himself up with his arms as he retched onto the floor. 

"Oh, mate..." Phil rubbed Wilbur’s back gently as the brunette gagged onto the floor, tears still falling like raindrops-

moondrops.

Wilbur’s entire body shook as he cleared out his stomach, releasing a sob that was more reminiscent of a scream. Phil wrapped the teen into a hug, letting him weep into his arms. 

"I- I- I'm- I'm so- sorry! I- I've ruined y-your- your floor." He choked between cries, hiccuping as he tried to catch his breath. Phil shook his head. 

"Don't worry about the floor, moondrop. I'll get it all cleaned up in a minute." He soothed, pausing for a moment. "I'm sorry, I called you moondrop again. Did that make you uncomfortable?" 

Wilbur shook his head weakly, hiccuping again when he tried to speak. 

"N-no. I- um, I think it’s- I think it’s okay. It's- it's okay." He croaked after a moment, sniffling quietly as his sobs started to die down. 

"Are you sure? You're not just saying that because you think I'll be angry?"

"I- um, I don't think- I don't think you're like- like him. " Phil noticed that Wilbur spoke about his father like he was a mud stain. As he should. "I- I don't think you- you would use nicknames like he did." Strained silence. "You wouldn't- you wouldn't, right?" He whispered after a beat. Phil felt his heart break, just a little bit. He would do whatever it took to make sure Wilbur and Techno both felt safe under his roof. That meant getting that excuse for a father back behind bars, but that was an issue for another day. Neither teens were ready to testify in court like that.

"I would never do anything to hurt you, or Techno. I swear to you." He wasn't expecting that to make Wilbur burst into tears once again.

"T-thats what HE would s-say! He- he would- he would always p-promise-" Wilbur broke into a weak cough from the exertion of speaking, taking a moment to collect himself. " He would promise- promise that he would get better. HE LIED! " Wilbur screeched, his breaths becoming torn and ragged. 

"I will never be like him. And you mighty trust me fully yet, but I promise that I will prove to you that I'm not like him."

Wilbur buried his head in Phil's shoulder, his weeping muffled by the material on his sweater. His cries were getting weaker and weaker as his throat tore itself apart, trying to keep up with them. Phil kept on soothing and quietly comforting him until he calmed down for the second time. 

"It's okay, moondrop. It's okay. I will never let that man lay a finger on you ever again." 

Wilbur nodded faintly, and Phil could feel how weak the simple movement was. He was exhausted. Techno was watching silently, his eyes carefully monitoring his brother as the brunette started to fall asleep. Techno tended to work more like a surveillance camera when Wilbur was upset, just scanning everything that moved with no regard for anything else. Phil slung Wilbur gently over his shoulder, carrying the sleeping teen into his bedroom. Wilbur opened his eyes groggily, sighing quietly. He buried his head in Phil's shoulder, feeling safe for now. 

Chapter Text

Wilbur woke up in the middle of the night, on the verge of a panic attack the moment he gained consciousness. The events of the day prior were flooding back to him. He curled his head under the blankets and tried to keep his breathing steady. He didn't want to bother Phil, he was sleeping. He sat still for a few moments, allowing himself to completely relax and clear his head. He instinctively grabbed his phone, it was a good distraction. He scrolled down to look at his notifications, frowning when he saw he had multiple missed calls from a number he didn't recognise. It put him on edge, but he didn't answer. He startled as the phone lit up once again, showing the same unknown number calling him again. He clasped his hand over his phone's speaker, sucking in a breath as he tried to muffle the ringtone. It didn't say Scam Likely like it usually did for unknown numbers. This was a real person. He clicked the red button nervously, cutting the caller off. The nervousness rising in the pit of his stomach worsened when his phone immediately started to buzz again. The same number. Who is this? 

Dad. 

No. It's not. That's not possible. Surely he wouldn't remember Wilbur’s number. 

He's a controlling freak, why wouldn't he memorise it? 

Wilbur cut off the call again, panic rising in his chest. His phone lit up again, seconds later. "Leave me alone ." He whispered, his voice breaking. He cut the call off shakily, praying the onslaught of calls would stop. The rings returned like a taunt, chiming in his ears until he cracked and answered the call, trembling. 

"...h-hell-hello?" He whispered, the terror evident in his voice. There was a short pause, and a quiet sigh. The pure suspense was enough for tears to start rolling down Wilbur’s cheek. "Who- who is it?" 

"Stop stuttering, Wilbur. You're still just as disappointing as before. I thought I might have scared it out of you." 

Wilbur’s entire body froze up, his hands going cold. 

It's him. 

Wilbur should have hung up, he should have ran and told Phil right away. But he didn't. 

"H-how did you- how did you get this number?" Wilbur's voice was high pitched with terror, still lower than a whisper. 

"I wouldn't forget your number, buddy. I would never forget it. How else would I find you?" His father's voice was sickly sweet, it was enough to make Wilbur’s dizzying nausea return. 

"F-find… m-me?" He stumbled over his words like he didn't believe he was awake. 

"Of course! I'm going to find you and Techno, I'm going to get you away from that Watson. I'll drag you out, kicking and screaming, you won't be able to go anywhere. I'm going to take you and Techno far away. And I'm going to make sure you never think of pulling something like this again. Your punishment will be so severe you'll wish you were never born. And I'll enjoy every second of it." 

Wilbur was going to be sick. He let out a weak sob, and he could practically hear his father smile. 

"Y-you- you can't. Ph-Phil won't let you. He won't let you." 

Laughter. 

"Phil won't be able to help you. I'll make sure you're both alone." 

"W-what if I tell him? T-then what? You- you can't hurt me anymore." Wilbur was struggling to keep the phone in his grasp with how much he was trembling. 

"You won't tell him. I know you won't, buddy. Your punishment will be worse if you do." 

"You can't hurt me anymore." Wilbur tried to force some confidence into his words, despite the confidence being non-existent. "I'm safe with Phil." 

There was a piercing silence, and Wilbur tried to keep his breathing quiet. He couldn't show fear. 

"Are you?" More silence. "I could be around the corner at any time, and you would never know." 

"S-stop it. Stop- stop that. You're scaring me." Set a boundary. That's what Phil told him to do. There was more cruel laughter. 

"That Phil really has ruined you. I'll set you straight again, don't worry bud. It'll be a lot of work, but nothing I can't handle." 

"Stop it!" Wilbur’s hushed whispers were starting to become louder and more panicked. He was going to wake someone up.

"Remember the bench saw?" His father asked simply. Those four words were enough to instil enough trauma to make him let out a blood curdling scream. 

"Put your arm down. Put it on the table." 

"Y-you'll cut it off! You'll kill me! N-no! I-" 

"PUT YOUR FUCKING ARM ON THE TABLE OR I WILL KILL YOU." 

Wilbur’s agonised screams were the only noise in the house for hours on end. 

Wilbur heard a laugh, and the quiet click of the phone call ending as he screamed, his sobs echoing throughout the whole house. Within seconds, Phil was at his side, his eyes widened in shock and worry. Wilbur’s hearing was fuzzy, and he barely registered Phil trying to speak to him. The only thing he could hear was the muffled sounds of his own screams. He covered his ears, his screams becoming gravelly as his voice started to give up. His head dipped forward, he struggled to stay upright. Phil held him back to stop him from falling, continuing to speak clearly and gently to the brunette. Wilbur was barely lucid at all, his air piercing screams becoming hoarse, croaky sobs. He registered someone tapping a rhythm on his palm. Techno always did that when Wilbur panicked. 

"T-T-Techno?" His voice broke like glass at the feeble attempt at speaking. He had completely destroyed his voice. He heard Techno’s voice talk back to him, but he couldn't make out what he'd said. Wilbur continued to bawl, unable to voice his panic. Techno continued to tap on Wilbur’s palm, and Wilbur tried to breathe along to the rhythm. He failed multiple times, too terrified to hold the rhythm. 

"I'm going to get you away from that Watson. I'll drag you out, kicking and screaming, you won't be able to go anywhere."

Wilbur's head lolled forward as he vomited, the intrusive flash in his mind frightening him to his core. Scaring him beyond anything a scream could portray. He felt someone hold his back as he gagged down the side of the bed. He cleared his throat, nothing left but stomach acid. His arms, which had been holding him up, collapsed under the weight of his torso from how weak he felt. He was gently pulled up and over to his pillow, his head resting on it. His eyes became wide and unfocused as the fuzz in his ears started to clear and he could hear everything. The house settling, his own ragged breathing, Phil's voice. He could see that Phil was talking, but he couldn't understand what he was saying.

So he started crying again. 

"Wilbur, moondrop, what happened?" 

He heard that. He shook his head, his arms creeping up to his neck as his nails curled into the skin. Techno gently pulled Wilbur’s hands down, keeping him from harming himself. Wilbur felt his heart rate spike from just talking about it. He couldn't tell them. 

"Remember the bench saw?" 

Wilbur launched forward, trying to escape the room but his legs gave out before he could even take one step. He crumpled to the floor, a trembling, stammering mess. 

"DON'T- D-DON'T! NOT- NOT THE SAW AGAIN!" He screamed at the top of his (already destroyed) lungs. Techno paled at the mention of a saw. He knew exactly what that meant. He would never forget it for as long as he lived. Phil bit his lip, holding in tears. Phil had never felt emotional pain this strong before. Wilbur was in so much turmoil and Phil didn't know how to help. 

"Moondrop-" 

Wilbur started to beg to someone who wasn't even there. "...p-please, please- please not- not t-the saw." His voice was completely broken, his head resting on the floor. He made no attempt to even try to get up. "I don't like- I don't like the saw. It-It hurts! More than anything." Phil felt ill. Techno was white as a ghost, barely reacting to what was said. The mention of that fucking bench saw was enough. Techno had never gotten that punishment before, but he had witnessed Wilbur’s arm be cut open multiple times as he thrashed and screamed, only to be left unconscious for Techno to patch his twin back together. There was enough trauma in that to destroy anyone's life, let alone everything else that had happened to them. 

"Wilbur, mate, what happened? Do you want to talk about it?" Phil bit back his paternal panic, trying to keep it together and get information. He needed to know who caused his so- 

…foster child

to feel this way. Wilbur's lip trembled as he sniffled and hiccups, trying to calm his sobs. He shuffled over to Techno and weakly sunk his head into his twin's shoulder, hiding from the world. 

"Do you want to talk about it, Wilbur?" Phil pressed on, keeping his voice as gentle as possible. Wilbur shook his head mutely, lifting his head to meet eyes with Phil. Phil felt like he had been stabbed for a moment. Phil hadn't seen that look in Wilbur’s eyes since the day he had been taken away from his father, with Wilbur bleeding on the grass and Techno unconscious. He didn't want to see that look ever again, the raw, soul-crushing, horrific fear. Something had happened, something more than a nightmare. Phil could tell. 

"Moondrop, can you please tell me what happened?" Phil was pushing it. He knew he was, but he just had to. Wilbur lifted his head, practically vibrating with how much he was trembling. 

"He-he- he c-ca- he-" Wilbur stumbled over his words, like each word was paining him to say. "He-" Wilbur whimpered, and Techno hugged the brunette closer. Phil held up his hand, silently letting Wilbur know he could stop. He just felt awful now.

"I'm sorry, moondrop. If talking is uncomfortable, you don't have to talk about it. I'm always here if you do." 

Wilbur just nodded, tears falling onto the blankets like silent rain. He still wasn't sure how to react to apologies. No adult ever really apologised to him for something as simple as making him uncomfortable. 

Phil would probably tell him that wasn't simple. It was probably important. 

Most things Phil told him were the opposite of what he was raised to think. It was confusing. 

"...sleep." He whispered, his voice completely fried. Techno and Phil simultaneously nodded, standing up to leave. Techno left immediately, after waving silently. Wilbur could see he looked more shaken up than he was letting on. Phil lingered in the doorway for a moment. 

"Please don't hesitate to tell me what's wrong, I'm here to help you." 

Wilbur frowned. 

"I would never hurt you."

"...I never mean to hurt you on purpose." 

"If I hurt you, you probably deserved it."

"So what if I hurt you? It's a life lesson." 

Just a miniscule selection of the complete fucking lies his father told. It all started to sound the same after a while. These affirmations of safety that were always complete and utter bullshit in the end. It all flew over Wilbur's head, it meant nothing. 

But Phil wasn't like that. 

It was like he was rewiring his brain from this blonde man.

Who would have thought that healing from trauma would be difficult? Wilbur blinked, realising that Phil was looking at him expectantly, waiting for some kind of concurrence or something. He just nodded, like he always did. 

"Remember the bench s-"

SHUT THE FUCK UP! 

Wilbur’s eye visibly twitched, and Phil took a concerned step forward, tilting his head. 

don't come any closer don't come any closer don't come any closer get away getawaygetaway GET AWAY

Phil is not LIKE THAT. Wilbur continued to remind himself, taking a deep breath. Why did Phil have to tilt his head like that? It was too similar to-

-his father tilted his head sadistically, the trace of a smile ghosting his thin lips. Wilbur’s palm padded backwards as he desperately tried to crawl away, blood already pumping from his arm. He tried not to gag at the blood, trying to stop the flow while simultaneously trying to get away from his father.

"You should have listened to me, Buddy." 

"-bur, Wilbur? Can you hear me?"

Wilbur nodded, instinctively clasping his hand over his arm. He was confused for a split second, it wasn't bleeding. A weak hiccup was the only response to Phil that he could muster. He tried to apologise, only spitting out a weak attempt at the word 'sorry.' But Phil got the idea. 

"Don’t apologise, moondrop. You didn't do anything wrong." 

"I- I- I'm- I'm scared, Phil." Wilbur choked out, hugging himself. "I'm scared." 

"What are you scared of, Wilbur?" 

There was a long pause, and Wilbur started to pull on his own hair anxiously. He took a deep breath. 

" Him. " 

Phil could have sworn he lost connection to his brain for a moment. Something bad had just happened. His eyes darted over to Wilbur's bedside table. His phone was on there. It was usually charging in the corner at night, why did he have his phone?

"What, uh, what do you mean by that, mate?" He asked slowly, trying to keep his voice steady. Wilbur sniffled, his nose scrunching up in discomfort. He pointed to his throat and shook his head. 

"You can't talk?" Phil asked, and Wilbur nodded. "Could you show me another way?" 

Wilbur’s eyes flickered over to his phone wordlessly. He looked back to Phil. 

"Your phone?" 

A nod. 

"What about your phone? What's on your phone, moondrop?" Phil wasn't sure he wanted to find out. He saw Wilbur immediately begin to panic again. Phil moved forward, but stopped when Wilbur flinched back. Ouch. Wilbur hadn't flinched in so long. "Hey, hey, hey. It's okay Wilbur. It's alright. Do you want a hug?" Wilbur nodded shakily, his lip trembling. He squeezed his eyes shut as Phil wrapped him into a warm, safe hug. After a few minutes of silent embrace, Phil spoke up. 

"Could you show me what's on your phone?" 

Wilbur's trembling was starting to scare Phil, a little bit. But the brunette still nodded, despite all of his fear, he still agreed. 

He pulled himself out of Phil's hug, shuffling to get his phone. He shakily typed in his pin, getting it wrong multiple times and nearly locking his phone. He opened the phone app, going to the recents category. He turned his phone so that Phil could see it, pointing to the unknown number and the call that had went through.

Phil tilted his head in confusion. 

"Who called you, moondrop?" 

Wilbur broke eye contact, his gaze fixed to the phone screen. 

"H-he- he did!" Wilbur's voice broke like chalk, and he threw his phone aside, covering his face with his hands and pulling his knees up to his chest. " HE CALLED ME!" 

Phil completely froze up, unable to say a word. He could feel the rage bubbling up inside him, getting ready to boil over. He needed to go. He needed to leave before he yelled at the wrong person. 

"I need a moment, Wilbur." He mumbled tightly, his tone a little too neutral for Wilbur's comfort. It was like his father when he was pretending not to be angry. Phil had a lot of mannerisms that reminded Wilbur of his father. Too many to be comfortable. The simple 'Phil isn't like that' remarks he kept repeating to himself didn't feel reassuring anymore. 

Phil is angry at me. 

Wilbur watched Phil leave through his hands, which were still covering his face. Phil was angry. He had made Phil angry at him. He stiffened when he heard a noise coming from Phil's room. There was a strangled cry, a crashing noise and a loud, frustrated "FUCK." 

Wilbur’s phone buzzed. 

Against all better judgement, he picked it up. 

04:24- Unknown number [block] [+add to contacts]: 24 Oakwood Lane. 

That was Phil's address, wasn't it?

Chapter Text

04:24- Unknown number [block] [+add to contacts]: 24 Oakwood Lane.

Wilbur's eyes remained locked to his phone for a few moments, the reality of what the message implied sinking into his bones like a sickness. He didn't even have the energy to feel anything about it. His eyes carefully scanned the screen, looking for any possible way that this message could be fake. Maybe his eyes were tricking him? He could hear Phil coming back. He didn't want him to, he had been angry when he left. 

Why did I say anything? 

A few seconds later, the door gently creaked open, and Phil walked back in silently. His eyes were red and puffy. Why was he crying? 

"What did he say to you?" Phil asked after a few seconds of painful silence. His voice was shaking ever so slightly, despite how he tried to hold it back. It put Wilbur on edge, even more than before. 

"If- if I- if I set a boundary right now, would- would you be angry at me?" He whispered, curling in on himself, like he wanted to be smaller. Phil sighed shakily, running his hands over his face. 

"No, moondrop. I would never be angry at you for that." He replied, his voice softening. Wilbur's lip trembled. 

"O-okay. Then I'm- I'm asking you to not ask me that. I'm not- uh, I can't- I-" Wilbur burst into tears before he could fully articulate his sentence. Phil wrapped the brunette up in a hug almost immediately, shushing him. 

"I'm sorry. I won't ask anymore, okay? But I need just one thing, and I won't do it until I know you're okay with it." Wilbur lifted his head up mutely, his eyes narrowed. 

"W-what?" Wilbur’s mind was already scanning through the worst case scenarios. Phil bit his lip. 

"I need you to be okay with me going to the police about this. I need him locked up again, okay? He can't be on bail if he's-" Phil swallowed back a lump in his throat, "if he's doing this to you. I don't know what he said, but I know we're not safe until he's back behind bars like the scumbag he is." Wilbur fell silent, contemplating what Phil had said. The thought of having to talk to another police officer, the thought of having to tell them everything. It made him sick to his stomach, it was horrific. He couldn't go through that again. But he wasn't safe. His eyes anxiously darted over to his phone, and he wanted to squeeze them shut. There was an address on that phone, an address that put him and Techno in serious danger. As much as the thought of going to the police sickened him to his core, it wasn't about him anymore. It was about Techno’s safety. They shouldn't have to look at their father's face until it's in a courtroom. He shuddered at the thought of court, burying his head in Phil's shoulder. Every possible answer to Phil’s question was horrible. But he had to make a choice. "Take your time, Wilbur. It's a hard question to answer." Phil soothed, noticing Wilbur’s apprehension. 

"I- um-" Wilbur's insides did a somersault as soon as he spoke, he held back a gag and covered his mouth. Phil’s eyes widened slightly. 

"Hey, hey. It's alright mate, it's okay. Take your time." 

"I want Techno." He whispered, pulling away from Phil and hugging his knees. 

"Wilbur, I think Techno needs sleep, you scared him a bit." Phil replied gently, and Wilbur's lip trembled. 

Stop being a demanding little brat. He would beat the shit out of y-

Wilbur held back a flinch, shutting his eyes for a second. "...okay. I'm sorry sir- uh- um, Phil." Wilbur mumbled, his voice monotone, having completely lost the emotion it had before. Phil startled slightly at the sudden change in demeanour. 

"Don't be sorry mate." Phil responded slowly, a little confused. Wilbur just nodded, smiling faintly. It was unsettling. "Are you okay, Wilbur?" 

"Yep. I'm okay!" Phil's stomach twisted with a strange anxiety upon hearing Wilbur’s fake voice. It sounded the exact same as the first time he'd met him. Fear masked with an unsettlingly quiet, polite voice. "I think I just need some time alone, please." Phil nodded. 

"Yeah, yeah of course mate. Try and get at least a little bit of sleep, and we'll talk about the police again in the morning, okay?" 

"Okay. Goodnight si- Phil." 

Phil left the room, feeling troubled. Wilbur’s entire mood had changed as soon as he told him that Techno couldn't come. He had inadvertently called him 'sir' twice. What switch had flipped? 

As soon as Phil left, Wilbur started to panic. He was becoming a bad child, he was sure of it. Phil never punished him, so how was he meant to know when he was doing something wrong? What if he pushed it too far one day and Phil sent him away? Surely it was only a matter of time. Wilbur had far too much on his plate and he felt like he was crumbling in on himself. Maybe if he slept it off, he would wake up and feel better. Maybe not.

Wilbur woke up, and he was immediately able to tell that this was going to be one of his worst days. His brain was completely foggy, he couldn't think straight. He dragged himself out of bed, sighing miserably. He sat at the side of the bed-frame, collecting himself before he went downstairs. He grabbed his phone, checking the time to see it was almost 12. Another sigh. He didn't even bother to change out of his pyjamas, stomping downstairs into the living room. He peered into Techno’s room on his way, seeing that he was still asleep. Lucky him. Phil was standing at the counter, making himself a cup of coffee. He smiled upon seeing Wilbur enter, a smile that Wilbur did not return. 

"Hiya mate, how did you sleep?" He asked, and Wilbur completely ignored the question, sitting down on the couch and resting his head on the armchair. The bags under his eyes were enough of an indicator to Phil that Wilbur had not, in fact, slept well. 

"Morning Wil!" Tommy greeted, walking in, beaming. Wilbur just hummed, barely acknowledging the blonde. Tommy frowned, sitting down on the armchair across from Wilbur. Phil titled his head in confusion. 

"Okaa-ay then. Do you want anything to eat?" Wilbur continued to ignore Phil's questions. He just stared forward, already feeling a headache in the back of his head. Since when were the lights in here so bright? "Wilbur?" Phil pressed on, an undertone of concern in his voice. Wilbur just shook his head weakly, not even looking up at Phil. "Moondrop, are you okay?" Wilbur’s eye twitched. 

"Wil, what's wrong?" Tommy asked, worried. Why can't they just leave me alone? "Wilbur, why are you ignoring me?" Tommy sounded hurt, now. Wilbur could barely register what Tommy was saying to him. His mind felt so fuzzy. "Wilbuuurr?" Tommy stood up, walking over to the brunette and poking his shoulder. "Stop ignoring me!" Wilbur flinched back, his eyes wide. Instinctively, he pushed Tommy back before he could realise what he was doing. Tommy fell back onto the glass coffee table, and it smashed into pieces, with Tommy falling right onto those shards. The blonde screamed in agony and Wilbur was pulled out of his fog to realise what he had done. Phil gasped loudly and sprinted over to Tommy almost immediately. Wilbur just covered his mouth with his hands, shell-shocked. He did that to Tommy. That was his fault. 

Like father, like son. 

He was going to be sick. 

"Oh jesus, oh god, Toms are you alright?" Phil asked as he pulled Tommy, who was bawling, out of the glass. Phil spared Wilbur a shaken look before running with Tommy in his arms to get the first aid kit. Wilbur was left alone, staring at his hands. He had pushed Tommy into the table. Had he been angry? He couldn't even remember. Wilbur started to tremble, guilt eating at him like a cancer, until he let out a sob. He could hear Tommy crying in the other room, and all he could think of was what a horrible person he was. He just wanted to talk to me. 

"It's okay Toms, it's okay mate. The cuts aren't deep, you're lucky. It's alright, don't cry sunshine." 

I need to be punished. 

A few minutes later, Phil and Tommy reentered the room, with Tommy hiccuping quietly. Wilbur immediately started stammering through an apology. 

"Tommy I'm- I'm- I- I'm sorry! I didn't m-mean to- to do it! You- you can- you can hit me, because I- I deserve it- and- and-" 

"Wilbur, stop that." Phil cut across him gently, but Wilbur continued to stumble over his words, shaking. 

"You- you- you don't have to be- be nice anymore, because um- uh, I deserve to be- to be punished." 

"Wilbur." 

"I- I tried to be good, and I'm- I'm so sorry! You can kick me out, you can-" 

"WILBUR! Stop it." Wilbur whimpered in fear, falling silent. He curled in on himself, hugging his knees. "Wilbur, you're not in trouble." Wilbur's eyes widened. 

"W-why?" He asked quietly, sniffling through tears. "Why not? I- I did something bad. What if I do it again?" 

"Do you think you would do it again? Did you feel good when you did it?"

"N-no." 

"So why would I punish you? Tommy isn't angry at you, right Toms?" Phil looked over to Tommy, who shook his head weakly. 

"No, I'm not. I startled you and you reacted to it, it was no one's fault." Tommy mumbled. 

"See?" Phil smiled sadly. "You didn't mean to do it. You had a bad night's sleep and you were having a bad day. You had a rough night last night, and you have every right to feel groggy and upset today. You just need to be more careful, okay? And Tommy, we don't poke people like that, okay?" Tommy nodded. Wilbur frowned, staring at the floor. 

"But- but I thought that people didn't learn unless they got punished. Every time I got punished I never did the thing again." He mumbled, confused. Phil grimaced. 

"No, Wilbur. That's not true. There's a lot of things that your father told you that aren't true. I'm here to help you learn that. The reason you never did those things again is because you were too frightened to. Real discipline is understanding why what you did was wrong, and growing because of it. That doesn't mean violence, ever." 

"Oh." Wilbur burst into tears again. None of this made sense! Everything he knew was being challenged and he was scared and confused. 

"Do you want a hug, Wilbur?" Phil asked gently. You don't deserve a hug. You only deserve one thing. Wilbur shook his head shakily, trembling so much he was almost vibrating. 

"I- I need to go." Wilbur mumbled, standing up and storming out of the room. 

"Wilbur, hold on-" Phil called after him, following him out. Wilbur ran up to his bedroom, locking the door and pressing his back against the doorframe. Phil knocked gently on the door. "Wilbur? Moondrop? Could you unlock the door?" Wilbur squeezed his eyes shut, letting out a sharp breath at another memory pushing its way into Wilbur's mind. 

"THERE'S NO WAY OUT!" His father screamed as Wilbur bled out, desperately trying to wake Techno up.

The repeated bashing on the door from back then started to blend with Phil’s gentle knocking. Wilbur’s breathing started to become raspy and panicked. 

"Wilbur? I need you to open the door." Wilbur covered his head, biting back a sob as he tried to stay quiet. "Moondrop, it's okay. I just need to know you're alright and then I'll leave you alone." 

Wilbur tuned out Phil's voice, his eyes desperately darting around the room for something to punish himself with. Phil had told him it was okay, but he wouldn't stop feeling this overwhelming, crushing guilt until he did something about it. It was almost like he was dependent on the violence. "Wilbur, please. You're worrying me, mate. Please- please just open the door. I don't want to break it." Wilbur started rifling through his wardrobe, looking for anything. It felt wrong, but he had to, right? His father would be upset if he didn't. He closed his wardrobe, falling onto his knees, holding himself up with only his arms. And he sobbed uncontrollably. "Wilbur, I'm getting a bit scared. Could you please just unlock the door? Or say something?" Phil’s knocking had become more frantic, and his voice panicked. Wilbur lifted his head, his eyes immediately landing on the handle of his wardrobe. It was a bit sharp at the end. He unscrewed it from the handle as fast as he could, his vision blurred with tears. 

"Wilbur, I'm- I'm going to break the door now, o-okay? I'm breaking the door." Phil bashed something repeatedly against the door and Wilbur screamed in fear at the sudden return to reality. 

"THERE’S NO WAY OUT!"

Wilbur hid in the corner of his room, his sobs making it harder and harder to breathe. He grasped the handle, barely aware of what he was doing as he pressed it into his arm. Right where the bench saw scars were. He felt an agonising sting pulse through his entire body, but it felt like relief. He yelped as Phil burst through the door, stumbling forward, a bat in hand, like he hadn't expected it to open. He looked up and over at Wilbur, his face paling to a ghostly white as soon as he saw the brunette's arm. 

"Wilbur." He breathed, in shock, dropping the bat and sprinting over to the teen as Wilbur broke into sobs that sounded more like screams. "Oh my sweet moondrop. Oh god." He pulled the sobbing teen into a hug, on the verge of tears. 

"I- I'm s-s-" Wilbur choked, his voice muffled by Phil's hug. 

"Don't apologise, please." Phil's voice broke slightly, and he paused for a few moments to collect himself before talking again. Wilbur hiccuped repeatedly, his cheeks going red from trying to breathe. 

"I- I felt- I felt bad for hurting T-Tommy- and- I needed to- I needed to teach- teach m-" Phil shushed the brunette, more for his own good. He couldn't bear to hear Wilbur detail why he thought he deserved that. 

"You don't deserve that. No one ever deserves that, okay? You're not in a home like that anymore, you never have to do that- uh, to yourself. Ever. Tommy forgives you, I promise he does." 

"He- he hates me now. I- I know he does. I was supposed to- he- he said we were like brothers, and I- I hurt him!" Wilbur had just been calming down, but he started to weep once again. 

"He doesn't hate you. I swear to you, on my life that he doesn't." Phil assured him, feeling Wilbur’s tears soaking through his sweater. "Let's patch up your arm, yeah? Then we can have a chat." Wilbur couldn't help but wince at the use of the phrase 'have a chat.' He'd heard it many, many times and it never actually resulted in a chat. It was always bruises. But he still nodded, because that was what he did. Agree to everything despite his discomfort.

Once Wilbur’s arm was bandaged up, Phil gave him one of his baggy crewnecks to wear. All of Wilbur's sweaters would chafe at the bandage and make his wound hurt, so Phil's worked better. It was comfier too, even though it went down past his knees. They both walked back into the living room, with Wilbur trailing behind anxiously. Techno was sitting on the couch, a plate of toast resting on his lap as he watched Tommy play minecraft. Tommy paused the game and put down the remote upon seeing them enter. 

"What took you so long?" He asked quietly, and Wilbur looked up at Phil with a panicked expression. Don’t tell him. 

"Oh, Wilbur just locked his door, but the lock broke and the door was stuck. So I was just trying to get the door open." Phil replied casually, giving Wilbur a reassuring glance. Tommy nodded, going back to playing. Techno scanned Wilbur’s expression, noticing something off almost immediately. 

"Why are you wearing Phil's crewneck?" He questioned. Wilbur gulped, his eyes darting to the floor nervously. 

"Um, I spilled water on mine. It's in the uh, it's in the dryer." 

"But you have other sweaters." Techno's eyes narrowed. 

"Phil just offered me this one, it doesn't matter." There was a quiet pause, and Techno held intense eye-contact with Wilbur while squinting slightly. Wilbur felt his cheeks heating up with nervousness. "I don't know why this is bothering you so much, Tech." He mumbled, trying to play it off. Techno sighed. 

"Because something is off." Techno replied. Wilbur sat down next to Techno, holding his arm slightly forward so he wouldn't whack it off the couch while sitting down. Techno frowned. 

"Nothing is off." Wilbur huffed. "I just got locked in my room." 

"Was that before or after you spilled water on your sweater?" 

"Why are you being like this, Techno?" Wilbur snapped, running his hand through his hair and sighing sharply. 

"Why did you hold your arm forward when you sat down on the couch? What's wrong with your arm?" Techno fired back, causing the entire room to freeze and look over. Tommy paused his game, eyes wide. Phil cleared his throat. 

"That’s enough, boys." He spoke up. Techno shot Phil a murderous glare, not acknowledging him at all. 

"What's wrong with your arm, Wilbur?" Wilbur gulped, stumbling over his words for a second. 

"There's nothing wrong with my arm. It was just habit." He replied anxiously. 

"Then show me your arm." Techno responded coldly. 

"I said that's enough." Phil repeated, a nervous edge to his voice upon seeing Wilbur's panicked expression. Techno's eyes shot daggers at Phil, but he fell silent. "Thank you. We don't force anyone to do anything, okay?" Techno's response was a quiet hmph and saying something along the lines of going to change out of his pyjamas. Wilbur sighed shakily in relief once Techno was out of earshot. 

"Right, I'm going to make lunch now. Is pizza okay?" Tommy nodded and Wilbur just shrugged. Phil took that as a saris answer and strolled out to the kitchen, whistling quietly. 

"Wil?" Tommy asked after a few beats of silence.

"Yeah?" 

"Is there actually something wrong with your arm? I mean- you don't have to tell me if you don't want to. But I was just wondering.." He trailed off, noticing Wilbur’s discomfort. "Sorry." He added sheepishly. Wilbur shook his head sadly. 

"No, it's okay. I- um, I cut it. A little bit, nothing to worry about so don't get scared, uh, or do. I don't remember how 13 year olds think." Wilbur spoke about his injuries like they were nothing. It scared Tommy more than the cut, if that was possible.

"Did you cut it on purpose?" He asked slowly, not fully wanting to know the answer. Wilbur nodded faintly, staring at his hands. 

"I felt bad for hurting you, so I did something bad." He whispered, his voice wavering like he was holding in tears. Tommy’s eyes widened.

"But I'm not mad at you. You didn't- you didn't need to do that. " He could feel tears brimming in his eyes, but he brushed them away. 

"I thought you were. I wasn't really thinking straight." Wilbur's voice was even more subdued than usual. It was almost inaudible, yet not a whisper. 

"Can I hug you?" Tommy asked, and Wilbur nodded almost immediately. Tommy shuffled over and wrapped his arms around the brunette, careful to avoid his injured arm, because he didn't know exactly where the cut was. The first thing he noticed was how fast Wilbur’s heart was beating, like he was afraid of something. But he didn't comment on it. He just shut his eyes, hoping the hug brought Wilbur at least an ounce of comfort. 

Techno watched one of his tears fall onto the carpet, his back pressed against the outside of the living room wall, just by the door. He had heard enough, and he knew he'd failed to protect his brother. 

Chapter Text

Wilbur spent the rest of the day curled up on the couch, wrapped up like a burrito in a blanket while playing minecraft with Tommy. Techno was acting odd and distant, just sitting on the recliner in the corner, reading a book. Wilbur didn't question it, assuming he was just tired or something. 

"Wilbur, when you play a game for hours, you're supposed to get good at it. You've just been getting worse." Tommy joked, grinning as Wilbur threw himself off of the map for the seventh time. 

"Hey fuck you! I'm trying my best!" Wilbur shot back, a faint smile tracing his lips. Tommy giggled.

"Try harder, dumbass. Or you're off the team. I'll invite Tubbo 'round and he'll replace you." Wilbur frowned, his brows furrowed in concentration as he aimed his firecharge directly where Tommy was bridging, blowing him off the map. Tommy screeched, frantically trying to place blocks onto the nearest island as he fell. He landed on a block, but he died of fall damage. Wilbur howled with laughter, not even caring that he had killed his own teammate. 

"Wilbur what the fuuuck man! We’re on the same team!" He complained, pouting with mock anger. 

"Looks like- looks like you need to get better at minecraft!" Wilbur responded through giggles. Tommy pretended to be mad, but he couldn't help but crack a smile at the amount of fun Wilbur was having. It felt strange for Tommy to be aww-ing at someone three years older than him. But he was just glad. Wilbur deserved to giggle like that, with his eyelids wrinkling up as he laughed. It lit up the room.

"I will get my vengeance, Wilbur Soot. Mark my words." He whispered menacingly, his intimidation factor being entirely diminished by the fact he had just fallen off the map again. "Uh, after I respawn." He added sheepishly, giggling quietly as Wilbur cackled. 

"My f-fucking stomach!" He choked as he laughed, having to put down his remote. Tommy smiled incredulously.

"Okay, it wasn't that funny. Stop laughing at my downfall." He huffed, and Wilbur wasn't even attempting to stifle his laughter. Techno smiled faintly from across the room, quickly masking it with a neutral expression. 

"I don't think I've laughed that hard in my life." Wilbur mumbled, his cheeks red from laughing. Tommy grinned back, his stomach fluttering with joy. 

The time in the day eventually came where Phil had to talk to Wilbur about the phone calls, and the police. It was once Tommy had gone to bed, and Wilbur was lying on his own bed, staring at the ceiling. As Phil made his way to Wilbur's room, he peeked his head into Techno’s room.

"Techno? Would you be able to come with me for a second? I need to talk to you and Wilbur about something." Techno nodded mutely, standing up and following Phil out the door. Phil knocked gently on Wilbur’s door. That was a difference between Wilbur and Techno, Wilbur always left his door locked, and Techno kept his door wide open. 

"Coming." Wilbur mumbled from his room, dragging himself out of bed and unlocking the door. He opened the door, looking confused as to why Phil and Techno were both standing at his door. He remembered after a moment with a sigh. "Oh, do we have to talk about the…" He trailed off, and Phil nodded with a grimace. 

"I'm afraid so, mate. It's really important, and I'm sorry that it makes you uncomfortable." Wilbur frowned, opening his door further to let them inside. He sat down awkwardly on the side of his bed, averting eye contact with both of them. Techno looked slightly confused, but he sat down beside Wilbur. Phil pulled out Wilbur’s chair from his desk, sitting down on it. Wilbur’s eye twitched when he saw Phil grabbing the chair. 

His desk chair discarded on the floor, in pieces, with his father holding up one leg of it, with a sharp chip of wood protruding from the end. 

"I- I didn't mean to! I swear- don't- don't hit me with that p-please!" 

Wilbur was plunged back into reality by a gentle tap on the shoulder from Techno. Phil was looking at him with a hint of concern.

"Uh, um, sorry." Wilbur mumbled timidly. 

"It's okay mate, don't worry about it. Now, you don't have to, but would you be able to tell me anything he said on the phone call?" Phil spoke slowly and carefully, making sure that Wilbur didn't feel pressured. He looked over, noticing that Techno looked extremely nervous. "Hold on, are you okay Techno mate?" Techno’s eyes widened and he scrambled to mask his expression, failing and only managing a crooked smile. It only worried Phil more. Wilbur frowned.

"What's wrong, Tech?" Wilbur was eager to change the subject, but he was worried about Techno too. A bead of sweat formed on Techno’s forehead, and Wilbur’s eyes narrowed. Techno would always sweat when he was holding in something. "Techie?" Wilbur pulled out the nickname, hoping Techno would soften and open up. He remained silent for a few moments, but Wilbur waited patiently. He eventually mumbled something inaudible. Wilbur tilted his head with confusion. 

"What?" He asked, and Techno looked like he was going to throw up. 

"Hecalledmetoo." He mumbled, still incoherent. 

"What? Techno what are you saying, speak u-" 

"HE CALLED ME TOO." Techno yelled, bursting into tears. Wilbur froze, his eyes widening. Techno never cried. 

"W-what?" Wilbur choked out, at a loss for words. "T-Techno-?" Techno wiped his eyes roughly, his frustration evident in the action. He turned his head away, like he was ashamed to show emotion. Phil's brows furrowed with concern. 

"Techno, when did this happen? This is important, mate? Before or after Wilbur?" He asked slowly, patiently waiting for a response, if Techno even responded at all. 

"B-b-bef-" Techno grunted in frustration at his stammer, balling his fist and launching it into the side of his head. Wilbur grabbed Techno’s arm, eyes wider than before. 

"Techie, don't do that. Don't do that." Wilbur wasn't used to seeing Techno like this, he didn't know how to help. Techno buried his head on Wilbur’s shoulder, and Wilbur tentatively wrapped his arms around him. Techno never needed a hug like this before. It worried Wilbur. "It was before he, uh- he called me?" He asked, deciding it would likely be easier to act as his translator. Techno nodded shakily. Phil frowned. 

"When?" Techno’s face twisted into discomfort, but Wilbur already had a rough idea of when. 

"Was it the day you hurt your neck? When you scratched it? You were alone in your room. Did you-?" Techno nodded his head rapidly, covering Wilbur's mouth in a desperate attempt to make him stop talking about it. Wilbur sucked in a sharp breath, and he winced as his mind briefly drifted elsewhere. 

"STOP FUCKING TALKING! If I hear about that guitar one more time I'll smash it into pieces!" His father screeched, roughly slapping his hand over Wilbur's mouth to silence him. 

"I- I'm-

-sorry." Wilbur whispered, trying to mask his fear. He pressed his arms onto the bed, hoping the pressure would mask his trembling. Techno sniffled, trying to hold himself together. Phil was at a loss for words, and there was a beat of silence as he gathered himself. 

"I'm so sorry, Techno mate." Phil muttered. "I should have-" 

"There was nothing you could have done, Phil" Techno spoke up, "It was my decision to not tell anyone. It's no one's fault but mine." Wilbur shook his head. 

"It's not your fault either, Tech. It's Dad's fault." 

"I guess so." Techno pulled out of the hug, turning to look at Phil. "You can keep talking now, Phil. I'm done with crying." Phil was startled by Techno’s sudden mood change. One moment he was crying, and the next he's back to his usual stoic demeanour. Years of living with an abusive parent will make you a pretty good actor, Phil guessed. 

"Uh, alright. Now, I'm sorry to bring it back up, but would either of you be able to tell me what he said? I don't know if he would have said different things to you both, but anything you could tell me would help." Wilbur's discomfort was evident, and he broke eye contact immediately. Techno sighed shakily, knowing that he would have to be the one to talk. 

"He told me that he was going to find us. He- he said-" Techno's carefully crafted composure had already started to unravel, and his voice broke. He fell silent, blinking rapidly to fight back tears. 

"Take your time."

"He said he- Fuck, why is this is so hard!" He balled his fists again and Wilbur grabbed his arm, slamming it back down onto the mattress. 

"Techno. Don't do that, please." Wilbur pleaded, his voice shaking. Techno bowed his head, sighing miserably. But he nodded. He took a deep breath, seemingly preparing for something. 

"He said he was going to find us and kill us. Well, he, um- he implied it. The last time we saw him he was, you know, trying to kill us. So I can guess." 

Phil paled, covering his mouth with his hands. "He- he said what? " He felt ill all of a sudden. There was numbing silence, and Wilbur knew he had to speak up. He had to. There wouldn't be another opportunity to say this, and if he kept it to himself any longer he would explode. He was scared, but maybe Phil would be able to help. Wilbur’s lip trembled, and he opened his mouth several times to speak, but it was almost like his tongue was tied. He couldn't say it, but he had to. 

"Um, I have- I have worse news. Something worse." He blurted eventually, his face white as a sheet. Phil swallowed nervously, not sure he wanted to know. 

"What was it, moondrop?" He tried to keep his voice steady, he didn't want them to panic more than they definitely were internally. Wilbur started to tremble, and he knew he wouldn't be able to voice it in words. He pulled out his phone, opening up the texts. He felt a pang of fear in his heart just looking at it. Wilbur turned the phone over to show Phil, waiting for it to register. Phil’s eyes scanned over the text multiple times, and he tried and failed to mask the terror in his expression. 

"That's- that's the house address. That's this house." He choked, his mouth going dry. "Oh my god. " 

Techno’s eyes widened in horror and Wilbur broke into sobs. 

"I'm- I'm sorry- I- I didn't say anything- I was- I was so sc-scared. I couldn't- I-" The brunette's breathing was starting to pick up. This was a bad idea. He's going to be so mad at me for telling Phil. 

"Wilbur, moondrop, it's alright. It's not your fault. I'm not angry at you or disappointed or anything. It's just that this is really important and we need to go to the police about this. You're both in serious danger if we don't." Danger. He was in danger. Techno was in danger and it was all his fault. Why did he have to be found in that dressing room? Why didn't he lie? Phil was getting dragged into all of this because Wilbur was a bad kid . He was ruining everything. 

Wilbur let out multiple sharp breaths, his chest heaving. He was panicking. If they went to the police then that meant that he'd have to answer questions. That meant his father would be arrested again. That'll make him even more angry. What if the court date got pushed forward? He would have to see his father's face again and he wasn't ready for that. He would never be ready for that. 

"I-I- can't- I-" Wilbur's vision started to blur, and he felt lightheaded. Techno started tapping the rhythm on his arm, but he was barely lucid enough to breathe along to it. 

"Wil, please, please breathe. You’re going to seize again. Please." Techno pleaded, making Wilbur panic more. oh god not another seizure what if it goes over 5 minutes what if I have to go to hospital what if I- 

"Wilbur mate, take it easy, okay? We'll figure it out, I promise you." Phil tried to comfort him, to no avail. He was able to tell when an adult didn't believe their own words. Phil was just as scared as he was. Wilbur shook his head faintly, his breaths becoming more and more ragged. Techno was tapping the rhythm more frantically. 

"Wilbur, please breathe along to the rhythm. Please, we've done it so many times. You can do it, I know you can." Wilbur’s head dipped forward and Techno screeched as his brother started to seize. "Nononono no. " Techno held Wilbur’s head to keep him from hitting off of anything as the brunette convulsed. Techno bit his lip, tasting blood but not stopping. He was so incredibly overwhelmed. 

"I'll start a timer." Phil muttered, pulling out his phone quickly. Wilbur whimpered quietly, his head repeatedly hitting off of Techno’s hand. 

"It's okay Wil." Techno whispered, exhausted. "It's okay."

Wilbur continued to seize, the timer creeping closer and closer to 5 minutes. Too close to be comfortable. Phil was chewing anxiously on the inside of his cheek, pacing the room. He worried that he was being too pushy and making things worse. He just wanted Wilbur and Techno’s father gone for good. But maybe he was going too fast. 

"Techno, what's the timer at?" He asked nervously, digging through his pockets for his keys in case they'd have to drive to the hospital. Hopefully that wouldn't happen. He knew how much Wilbur hated hospitals. 

"Four thirty." Techno replied, pale as a ghost. Wilbur's seizing was starting to calm, thankfully. "Come on, Wilbur. It's okay." Wilbur’s seizing eventually came to a full stop. His eyes fluttered open for a moment, a dazed look plastered on his face. He shut his eyes after a moment, unconscious. Techno held his brother close, squeezing his eyes shut. If he was on the verge of tears again, that was only for him to know. Phil sat down quietly on the bed beside him. 

"I'm so sorry." Phil whispered, and Techno gave him a confused look. 

"What did you do? Why are you apologising?" He asked quietly, partially occupied with keeping track of Wilbur’s breathing. It was still shaky and uneven, even when he wasn't conscious. Phil grimaced. 

"I'm sorry that you have to deal with all of this. No sixteen year old should have to."

Techno paused, staring forward blankly. It's not like he knew any different. He was always the strong one. He couldn't be nervous, or scared, or weak. That's just how it was. Just because Phil was around didn't mean he was going to let his guard down now. That would be stupid. 

Would it? 

Techno didn't know. 

"It's fine. I'm used to it." He replied dryly. 

"You shouldn't be." Phil mumbled, frowning. This irritated Techno slightly. He understood Phil's sentiment, but the past was in the past. It wasn't like Techno could drop his defence mechanisms just because the coast was seemingly clear.

"Well I am. And it's fine. " Techno held eye contact for a moment, before speaking again. "And we have to talk to the police?" He asked quietly. 

"Unfortunately. If you want him back behind bars, which I'm assuming you do. He has our address, which is dangerous." Techno stared at Phil, his brows furrowed slightly. Something that Phil had said caught Techno’s attention. 'Our address.' Not just Phil's. Ours. He blinked, nodding awkwardly upon realising that he had been staring. 

"Yeah. I want him dead. But jail works too." Phil looked slightly taken aback. Techno didn't really mean that. He didn't mean a lot of the things he said. Like when he told Wilbur that he believed everything was going to be okay, or when he insisted to Phil that he was fine. Techno lied a lot, because it was something he could control. "When? When do we have to go to the police? I don't know if Wil is ready." Techno looked down at the brunette, still unconscious with his head resting on Techno’s lap. He looked so peaceful like that. It was one of the only times he looked peaceful, when he was asleep. Asleep or with Tommy. Techno envied Tommy a bit, Wilbur and him got along so well. Techno obviously got along with Wilbur too, but they rarely joked around like Wilbur did with Tommy. They had been through too much together to joke around. The scars on each other's faces were constant reminders of their trauma. How could they joke or laugh with each other when that life changing trauma was right there.  

'I don't know if Wil is ready' was just code for 'I'm not ready, but I can't show weakness and say that.' 

"The day after tomorrow, if you’re up for it." Phil replied, "But if you're not ready-"

"It's okay, Phil." Techno cut in. "It's fine. It'll be better to get it over with." It was true. It would be good to get it out of the way, but that didn't change the fact that it made Techno want to rip out his insides. He was scared, petrified, even. 

Not that he'd tell anyone that. 

"You're a good kid, Techno." Phil stood up, smiling sadly. "You really are. Do you want to stay in here with Wilbur or will you go back to your own room?" Techno looked back down at Wilbur, who was breathing steadily. He seemed okay, and Techno was tired. If he had a nightmare or anything, Techno was only a room away. 

"I'll go to my own room." He replied, gently moving Wilbur’s head onto the pillow. He followed Phil back out onto the landing, pausing when he got to the doorway of his bedroom. 

"Goodnight Phil."

"Goodnight Techno. Try and get some sleep, okay? Wilbur will be alright. We'll figure it out." 

"I'll try. Thank you Phil."  

And they both went to bed, only one of them closing their doors.

Chapter Text

Wilbur stared out of the car window, watching the trees go by. With each tree, the closer he got to that God forsaken police station. He could see Phil repeatedly glancing back at him from the rear view mirror, which only served to heighten his anxiety. Techno was staring at his knees, his legs bouncing up and down nervously. And Tommy was sitting in the front with Phil, scrolling endlessly through twitter. Wilbur had noticed that about Tommy. He was always on reddit or twitter. It didn't seem very healthy, but Wilbur wasn't exactly the right guy to consult about healthy habits. 

"Puffy is meeting us there. Is that okay with you both? You both like Puffy?" Wilbur and Techno both nodded mutely. "Okay, great. Well she's going to be there." That was okay, Puffy was kind. Her presence wouldn't make the ordeal any less stressful, but it was okay. Wilbur waited a few moments to make sure Phil wouldn't keep talking, and went back to zoning out and staring idly out the window. He was hoping that he could get his guitar back. He was too scared to mention it to Phil, but maybe the police would be able to get it from the house? Maybe not. But he didn't want to be the one that had to go back into that house. Far too many bad memories in there. Techno tapped Wilbur gently on the shoulder, giving him a 'you okay?' look.

"Hm?" 

"You're just shaking a lot, are you okay?" Wilbur tilted his head, looking down at himself. 

"Oh, I hadn't noticed. Yeah, I'm um, I'm fine. Just a bit nervous is all. What if they ask me something and I can't answer and they think we're lying? We're being monitored by the press, who already think we're liars and-" Techno gently placed his thumb over Wilbur's mouth, stopping him from talking. 

"Wil. It'll be fine. We know that we're telling the truth, so once he gets put in jail, who gives a shit? We don't have to look at pointe shoes ever again if we don't want to, so fuck the press." Wilbur chewed at his lip. He hadn't really thought about ballet. 

"Still." He mumbled, unable to think of a reasonable response. Maybe Techno was right. 

"We're almost there, boys." Phil called out gently, and Wilbur took a shaky breath. His stomach did multiple somersaults and he was fully ready to go back home. Is it really worth it? 

It is. 

But it doesn't matter, if he doesn't go to prison it doesn't matter. 

He could fight for us in a custody war and win. Then he can kill us. It matters. 

Why would he win?

Because he's a good fucking liar and the judicial system is a joke. 

Techno tapped Wilbur’s shoulder again. 

"Wil, we're here. And you're crying." Wilbur's cheeks went red and he awkwardly tried to wipe the tears away. 

"Sorry. I'll stop crying in a second. I'm just being a baby." Techno frowned. 

"You're not being a baby, Wil. We have a right to be afraid of this shit." He replied, holding out his hand for Wilbur to take as they walked across the car park. Tommy walked over, smiling weakly at the twins. 

"How're we feeling?" He asked, and it took a large amount of restraint from Techno to not say something snarky back. Wilbur glanced over to Techno quickly, knowing that he would likely make a comment. 

"Nervous, but we'll be fine." Wilbur responded, not leaving any room for Techno’s sarcasm. He ruffled his hair with his hands, scowling. He really needed a haircut, it was practically covering his entire face. 

"Oh, look, there's Puffy" Tommy pointed over to them, as they were getting out of their car. Tommy sprinted over, and Puffy wrapped him up in a hug. Wilbur’s stomach curled and his grip on Techno’s hand tightened. Techno squeezed back gently. It was like a silent language, the gentle squeeze was more comforting than words. 

Puffy approached them, smiling, and Phil walked over to greet her. 

"Hello Phil, how are we doing? Are we doing okay?" Puffy peered past Phil to look over at Wilbur and Techno. Wilbur let his hair fall over his face, hiding himself from the world, and Techno waved faintly. 

"They're a bit scared, which is alright." Phil replied, a sad twinge to his kind smile. "We might as well get this over with, yeah? I appreciate you coming on such short notice, by the way." Puffy shook her head, smiling good-naturedly. 

"No, no it's no problem at all! It makes things a little easier for them, and you. And yeah, we'd better go." 

Wilbur was barely listening as he followed Phil through the station, acting as the man's shadow. It was just easier to follow him. Phil gently tapped his shoulder, kneeling down in front of him so that they were eye to eye. 

"Wilbur mate, I'm afraid that you and Techno will have to be separated for the interview. They've got to make sure both of your stories are the same. So Puffy is going to go with you, and I'll go with Techno." He told Wilbur, who immediately paled. 

"I- I can't do that Phil." He replied, his eyes wide and panicked. How was he meant to be in a stressful situation without Techno? He couldn't. "Phil- Phil, I can't-" He covered his mouth, already feeling like he was going to vomit from anxiety. Phil gently grasped Wilbur’s shoulders, staring into his eyes. 

"Wilbur, we'll be close, okay? If you can't go on any longer, you can stop. No one will force you to do anything." Wilbur’s lip trembled, but he still nodded. He ignored the intense trembling, and the pang of fear he felt when he knew Techno wasn't beside him. So clingy, so co-dependent.  

Wilbur sat down on the uncomfortable metal chair, waiting for something to happen. If no one addressed him directly, he wasn't going to say much. They had said that they would have to be interviewed for a detailed statement, so he knew he would have to say something. It was just easier to pretend he didn't. Maybe if he thought hard enough, he could convince himself that none of this really happened. He'd been told that he was lying for attention before, he wished that he was. He listened in silence as the police officer started the interview, stating the time and the date. Wilbur suddenly became aware of the fact that this was being recorded. He glanced up anxiously at the camera in the top corner of the room. The red light blinking back at him like a taunt. 

"Now, if anything I say makes you uncomfortable, you're under no obligation to answer. Just know that anything you do tell us will be helpful for your case against-" Wilbur tuned out his father's name before it was even said. He didn't want to hear it. He didn't want to be here at all. He'd heard stories about how the police treated people like him and Techno. Despite how nice the officer sounded, he didn't trust them one bit. He didn't trust any of them. Protect and serve, my ass. They didn't protect shit. If they really did, then Wilbur wouldn't have 16 years of trauma. He looked up at Puffy, who was tapping on the table quietly. She looked just as anxious as he was. Wilbur always wondered how he looked to other people when he was so scared. People who knew him well, like Techno, or Shelby and James could always tell when he was afraid. But people he didn't know usually weren't able to tell. Did he look tough to others? Or did he look like the scared child that he was? He'd never really know for sure. Puffy noticed him looking around the room, and she smiled kindly at him. He blinked nervously, breaking eye contact right away. 

"Will, can I call you Will?" The police officer began, already landing themselves in Wilbur’s bad books. Rough start. Wilbur glared at the officer, shaking his head slowly. No one got to call him Will unless he said so. "My apologies." They replied, a fake smile plastered across their face. You're not sorry at all. Wilbur continued to glare. "Now, don't forget that I'm only here to help you, okay Wilbur?" 

"...mhm." Wilbur wouldn't dignify that bold-faced lie with a real response. They weren't there to help. They were sitting here for their paycheck. If Wilbur wasn't so scared he would say it.

"Now, am I okay to ask you a few questions?" 

"That's why I'm here, so." Wilbur replied dryly, realising Techno’s demeanour seemed to have rubbed off on him. Puffy cracked a smile, quickly masking it with a sombre expression. 

"Right. Okay. When did your father message you?" 

"I handed in my phone. You can check it." Wilbur mumbled. The officer frowned. 

"We need a spoken response from you, Wilbur." They replied, their voice immediately losing the pseudo-kind tone it had before. That was quick. Their facade barely lasted ten minutes. Wilbur looked up at Puffy, and she gave him a thumbs up. 

"The night before last. He called me before he messaged me." Wilbur spoke quickly, trying to get the words out before his emotions could catch up. He could already feel his heart thumping in his chest. "He called me first." The officer nodded, leaving the room in silence for a moment. Like he wanted Wilbur to stew in his own anxiety. 

"What did he say to you?" Wilbur winced at the question, looking over to Puffy in panic. 

"It's okay Wilbur, take your time." Puffy assured him, frowning sympathetically. Why do they need to ask me this when Phil told them already? He didn't trust himself to speak, he felt like he'd cry if he tried. 

"Uh- he um, he-" Wilbur stumbled over his words, falling silent. The officer raised an eyebrow. 

"It seems like you don't have your story straight, Wilbur."

Wilbur's breath caught in his throat, but Puffy was yelling before he could fully react. 

"Ex-fucking-cuse me? There's no story to 'get straight'! Wilbur was abused! That's the truth! Watch how you fucking talk, because I don't take kindly to bullshit from officers like you." She spat, her usually kind eyes turning to flames. Wilbur flinched back, the yelling overwhelming him slightly. He didn't like the word 'abused', it felt wrong. It was true, but it was uncomfortable to accept. Phil would have told him that he was minimising his trauma, he was probably right. Adults are right, Wilbur is wrong. That's the way it went. 

Wilbur’s eyes widened. 

Am I lying? 

No. Of course not. Wilbur hadn't lived through years of hell just to tell himself it was fake. The scars on his arms and face were real, and no one could take them away from him. 

Puffy’s xpression immediately softened when she looked over to Wilbur. 

"Sorry for shouting." Puffy said quietly. Wilbur nodded, forcing a smile. He took a shaky breath, he'd have to tell the officer everything. He wasn't going to be labelled a liar by them. 

"Thank you for your time, Wilbur." The officer said icily once he had finished recounting his story. They stood up quietly and left the room wordlessly. Wilbur was left trembling, silent tears streaming down his cheeks and onto his lap. He had to put himself back in that horrific place, tell them everything like it was happening as he said it. It was horrifying. 

"Are you alright?" Puffy asked softly, her brows furrowed with concern. Wilbur bit the side of his lip, shaking his head slowly. Puffy grimaced. "I'm so sorry. But you did so well! You did your best." Wilbur shook his head again. I was a mumbling mess. He'd be so disappointed in me. I'm not supposed to stammer. 

"Where's Techno?" He whispered, barely audible. 

"I don't think he's finished yet. We have to wait for a bit." She replied, and Wilbur’s lip trembled. He pulled his knees up to his chest, curling up into a ball on the small chair. He was scared. "I'm so sorry that today has been so stressful. It'll be over soon. You can go home and unwind." Puffy’s attempts at comfort were flying over Wilbur's head completely. His efforts were focused on trying not to break down. If he was this scared from a phone call, how was he expected to recount every single detail of his entire broken, traumatic life? He really didn't know. 

"Am I- am I lying?" He asked quietly, catching Puffy off guard. He just needed a second opinion. 

"No! Of course you're not. Everything you went through is completely real, and you shouldn't minimise it." 

There's that word again, 'minimise.' Wilbur seemed to be good at minimising things. He nodded mutely, letting the words swim around in his head for a few minutes. He frowned. Why did that officer think he was lying? 

"Why did the officer not believe me?" 

"Because cops are fucking assholes. Excuse my language." Puffy spat, the fire from before briefly re-emerging in her eyes. Wilbur couldn't help but agree. He couldn't think of a single time the police had been helpful. They visited the house one time, because Wilbur and Techno had been out of school for so long. They looked through the house, and they asked them questions. Something was clearly off, but they brushed it off because it made their jobs easier.

 Wilbur startled, covering his head when the door opened, creaking loudly. Phil stepped in quietly, his face crumbling upon seeing Wilbur curled up. He looked so small, so scared. 

"Moondrop? We're done. We can leave." Wilbur lifted his head up slowly, his dull brown eyes meeting Phil's warm blue ones. He stood up quietly, turning around to wait for Puffy while she got her coat. 

"I can't thank you enough, again-" Phil began, talking to Puffy.

"Phil. It's nothing, I'm serious. Don't thank me." Puffy insisted, smiling. Wilbur followed them both silently outside. Tommy scanned Wilbur’s expression for a moment, and he frowned. 

"You okay, Wil?" He asked quietly. Wilbur nodded, smiling weakly to get Tommy to stop frowning at him. He always felt like a timebomb when people looked at him like that. They walked out into the car park, and they parted ways with Puffy. She gave Wilbur a warm hug, which made him feel slightly better. But he was straight over to Techno, relief overtaking him to be back beside his brother. The separation anxiety he got without him was too much. There was already a silent agreement to never talk about something traumatic, so they didn't mention the interview at all. It was easier to pretend it didn't happen. They got into the car, and Wilbur immediately noticed Techno’s trembling. It was subtle, but if you had spent your entire life with someone, you would notice. Techno had been scared too. Wilbur stretched out his hand, grabbing Techno’s and squeezing it gently. Techno squeezed back silently, not even looking away from the window as he watched the police station get further and further away.

"I have an idea, boys. How does ice cream sound? We can stop off quickly and get some and then go straight home?" Phil suggested, his voice light and bouncy. He was keeping it positive, because he knew they weren't exactly feeling good. "You both can say no, by the way." Tommy peered back at the twins from the front seat, his eyes glowing with desperation. 

"Yeah, okay." Wilbur mumbled quietly and Tommy cheered, making Wilbur crack a tiny grin. 

"Ice cream it is!" Phil smiled, changing his sat-nav to take them to the nearest shopping centre. 

Wilbur made sure to keep close to Techno as they walked across the shopping centre. It was crowded and loud, he hated it. But it made Tommy happy to have ice cream, so he supposed it was fine. He had to keep a fairly fast pace to keep up with Tommy’s excited bouncing, which already had him out of breath. How did I do ballet all-day-everyday before when I can't even run for a few seconds now? Tommy stopped abruptly once they got to the ice cream parlour, and Wilbur bumped into him, getting lost in his thoughts for a moment. He stumbled back a few steps, mumbling an awkward apology, but Tommy was too giddy to even care. He looked over to his side, making sure Techno was still with him. Techno's expression was unreadable, so Wilbur assumed that they were safe here. 

"What do you want, mate?" Phil asked Wilbur, his notes app open on his phone. 

"Oh, uh, no, I'm okay. I don't want anything. Uhm, maybe just iced water? If that's okay." Wilbur didn't look up, knowing that Phil would be frowning at him if he did. He just sat down at one of the tables, letting his hair fall over his face. 

"Alright. Iced water it is." He typed it into his phone slowly. "Techno, could you come up to the counter and help me and Tommy bring the ice creams back?" Techno nodded, following Phil back over to the counter of the parlour. Wilbur watched them walk up, standing there silently as they waited for their orders. Wilbur pulled out his phone, rearranging the apps on his home-screen to pass the time. His wallpaper was a picture of him with a cat. The little guy used to wander around near their house, and Wilbur used to stop on the way to school to pet it. Techno had taken the photo. He squinted at the image, noticing how happy he looked. A wide smile, so wide that his eyes were all crinkled up. When was the last time I was that happy? Wilbur could think of brief moments, where he laughed, or smiled. But he didn't remember a euphoria like that. 

He missed that cat. The cat had a name tag, his name was Milo. But Wilbur had dubbed him 'Mr President,' because it was clearly a better name. A faint smile traced his lips when he thought about how Techno had made a whole powerpoint presentation on why he should be named 'Baba.' Mr President won, of course.

Wilbur was pulled out of his thoughts by a familiar nickname. 

"Hey Buddy." 

Not a positive nickname.

Chapter Text

Wilbur had felt fear before. More times than most people. But nothing would ever beat the blind terror he felt when he heard his father speak. 

"Hey Buddy." 

He didn't even scream. His eyes widened to the size of saucers, and he stared, completely unable to move. He felt like his heart was going to tear itself out of his chest. 

"Long time no see." His father mumbled, with the light sing-song tone that meant he was mad. Wilbur’s eyes started to water, and he pushed himself backwards, trying to get a distance between himself and his father. 

"L-leave m-me- leave me a-al-alone." He choked, wanting so desperately to scream his lungs out. But he couldn't. He'll be mad if I yell. I can't be attention seeking. His father laughed. 

"Buddy, we're going home! We’re going to go home, you and me, and it'll be fine." His tone was soft, which terrified Wilbur even more. He's going to kill me he's going to kill me I'm going to DIE. 

"N-no. I'm- I'm not." He stammered, pushing himself further back, despite the fact there was a wall there. He was cornered. "I'm- I- I'm n-not going with- with you." His father took a step forward. 

"Don't be silly. We have to go! You've had your little game with pretending I'm abusive, you've had your fun. You know that I'm the only person that has the strength to tolerate you. Phil would have gotten tired of you anyway." He grabbed Wilbur’s arm tight with a sadistic smile, his nails digging into Wilbur's skin. Wilbur saw red. 

"PHIL!" He screamed at the top of his lungs, the noise piercing the air. He frantically kicked his legs forward and tried to pull his arm away between whimpers. His father tried to clasp his hand over Wilbur's mouth, holding both of his arms down. Wilbur kept screaming, struggling desperately against him. Phil turned around the second he heard Wilbur's scream, his eyes wide with fear. 

"Tommy, wait here." He commanded, and he was sprinting before he could even have a single cohesive thought. Techno had reacted first, and he was already trying to kick his father away from Wilbur, who was still screeching. Phil dived forward, tackling their father to the ground, punching him repeatedly into the face. He was completely blinded by raw unadulterated rage. 

"DON'T FUCKING TOUCH HIM." He screamed, putting his entire strength into each punch. The consequences weren't on his mind right now. All he knew is that he had to make this man hurt. Making him hurt ten times more than he'd made Wilbur hurt would still be too little. He was dragged away by someone who was sitting at the table beside them. "Touch him again and you won't be awake to tell them what happened to you." Phil spat, his breaths raspy. He didn't even care that the scumbag was unconscious. It was catharsis. He saw someone calling the police, but he didn't even care. That man deserved every single punch he'd gotten. Phil turned over to check on Wilbur, who was sobbing into Techno’s shoulder, holding onto his twin like he would disappear. He was gasping for air in-between sobs. Phil’s anger immediately fizzled away the second he saw the brunette. 

"Moondrop, you're safe, you're okay. He can't hurt you now." He soothed him, but he knew there was no way to calm Wilbur down right now. He'd seen his father after weeks of healing. It was all down the drain.

"DAD?" Tommy yelled from the counter, ice-creams in hand. He dropped them immediately, running over to Phil. 

"Toms, there's been a bit of a situation, but it's under control." 

"Is- is that-?" Tommy paled, looking down at the unconscious man, and over to Wilbur. "Oh no. Oh, this is not good at all." Tommy balled his fists, his face twisting into anger. "That's the man who hurt Wil and Techno. Was it you that punched him, Dad?" Phil bit his lip. This wasn't the best example for Tommy, but they both knew that he deserved it. 

"I did. I punched him." Phil replied, fighting to keep the pride out of his tone. 

"Good." 

The police arrived within minutes, there were already some nearby, so it didn't take long for them to get there. Phil stepped forward immediately to explain the situation. 

"I'm their foster father, that's their abusive biological father who doesn't have custody over them. He was bothering Wilbur." Phil pointed to Wilbur, who was still bawling. Techno and Tommy were both trying to comfort him, still to no avail.

"So I retaliated." The officer nodded. 

"We're going to have to take you into the station. Even if your reasons were valid it is still technically assault. Is there anyone you could call to bring the children home?" Phil nodded, taking out his phone and opening his contacts.

"Yeah, I have a friend I can call." He held his phone up to his ear, tapping his foot as he waited for an answer. He looked at the other officer, who was putting Wilbur and Techno’s father in handcuffs. He held back a smile. It was deserved. 

"Phil? Is everything okay?" Puffy asked immediately upon answering the phone. "I just got home." Phil bit his lip. 

"Yeah, uh, Puff I'm in a bit of a rough situation." 

"What happened? Are the boys okay? Phil-" 

"They're okay physically, it's just-"

"What does that mean Phil? What do you mean physically?" Puffy cut across him, her voice panicked. 

"Listen. Okay, we went to get ice cream. We left Wil alone for a few seconds to get the ice cream at the counter, and then I heard him screaming my name. I turned around to see his father-"

"WHAT? PHIL, WHAT H-" Phil took a deep breath.

"Puffy, let me finish. I saw his father, he was grabbing Wilbur’s arm and trying to cover his mouth. He was trying to take him, Puff." He heard Puffy’s quiet gasp of shock. She sounded like she was crying. "So I ran as fast as I could and I beat the shit out of that fucking scumbag. And now I have to go to the station. Again. So would you be able to take the boys back to your house for the night?" There was a long pause. Phil understood, it was a lot to take in. 

"Jesus christ Phil. Of course I'll take them." Phil heard the jingling of keys. "I'm glad you punched him. But- poor Wilbur. Is he alright?" 

"He's in a bad way, Puffy. He hasn't stopped crying since it happened. I feel awful. I shouldn't have left him on his own." Phil felt himself become choked up all of a sudden. 

"Fuck, okay." Phil heard Puffy yell upstairs to Ranboo and Tubbo that she'd be back k in a few minutes. "I'm on my way, Phil. You're at the shopping centre, yeah?" 

"Yeah."

Wilbur had to be carried out to Puffy’s car, because by the time she arrived, he had fallen asleep in Techno’s arms, exhausted from crying. He rested his head on Techno’s shoulder, his arms wrapped around his own waist like he was protecting himself from something. 

"Is he okay?" Tommy whispered to Techno, not wanting to wake him up. Techno grimaced. 

"I don't know. I really don't." He whispered back as Wilbur stirred, his eyes twitching. 

"We're almost back, fellas." Puffy said, trying to stay positive. "Ranboo and Tubbo will be delighted to see you all. It's been ages, hasn't it?" Techno and Tommy both nodded. 

Wilbur woke up a few minutes before they arrived at Puffy’s house, and he clung to Techno like a sloth. His eyes were wide and he was violently trembling. 

"Hey Buddy." 

He whimpered in fear, burying his head in Techno’s shoulder. Techno tapped the rhythm on his hand, like he always did. 

"It's okay, Wil. You're safe now." 

"W-where are we going?" He choked, his voice fried from his screams. 

"To Puffy’s house. Phil is at the station so we have to stay the night with Puffy." 

"O-oh. Um, where's- where is-" Techno already knew what Wilbur was trying to say. 

"Dad is nowhere near us. He can't hurt you, okay? You're safe." He assured him. But Wilbur didn't believe him. He thought the shopping centre was safe, and look where that got him. 

"Buddy, we're going home!" 

Wilbur bit back a scream, accidentally digging his nails into Techno’s arm as his entire body tensed up. Techno sucked in a pained breath. 

"Wilbur, my arm." Techno mumbled, but Wilbur’s eyes were squeezed shut. He was somewhere else. 

"We’re going to go home, you and me, and it'll be fine."

Wilbur’s grip on Techno’s arm tightened as he became more engrossed in terror. Techno let out a shaky breath, seeing blood on his arm. 

"Wilbur. You're hurting me." He repeated, his voice more pleading this time. He was trying to keep his voice hushed, he didn't want Puffy or Tommy fussing about it. Wilbur was still distant, stuck in his own mind. 

"You've had your silly little game with pretending I'm abusive. You've had your fun." 

Wilbur screamed, and Puffy slammed on the breaks.

"SHIT!" She yelled, eyes wide. Tommy screamed, covering his head with his arms. The car behind them swerved to a stop, thankfully not crashing into anything. "It's okay, Tommy! We’re okay!" Tommy looked up, tears in his eyes. He was trembling. "We're alright." She repeated, trying to convince herself as well as Tommy. The blonde nodded shakily, wiping a stray tear from his cheek. 

"Fuck, that was scary." He mumbled. Puffy turned back to Techno and Wilbur with concern.

"Is he alright?" She asked, watching Techno rock his brother back and forth.

"He's scared. He's not with us right now." Techno replied, sounding somewhat cryptic. He wasn't in the right state of mind to clarify. 

"Okay. Alright, um, I'm going to find somewhere to pull over."

Techno grabbed Wilbur’s arm as gently as he could to pull it away, unable to take the pain of Wilbur’s nails digging into it anymore. It was a bad decision. Wilbur registered someone grabbing his arm, and his mind immediately jumped to the worst conclusion. Oh god it's dad he's back I'm going to DIE!

"PHIL! TECH! ANYONE!" He howled, desperately trying to kick 'his father' away. "P-please I don't want to go! H-help me!" Techno was pushed back by one of Wilbur’s kicks, almost bashing his head against the glass on the car door.

"Wilbur! Wil, I'm here! You're okay, you're safe I promise!" Techno yelled, trying to break through Wilbur’s mind fog. Puffy pulled the car over, getting out and opening the back door. 

"What did you mean when you said he's not with us?" She asked, worried. Techno bit his lip. 

"He goes into this mind fog sometimes. He can't hear us, and he's stuck in these traumatic memories. I- I don't know how to help him." Wilbur kept thrashing and desperately trying to escape the invisible grip of his father. His eyes were still glued shut. Tommy had been watching in horrified silence, trembling. He quietly got out of his seat and gently moved Puffy out of his way, his eyes still widened slightly. 

"Wil? It's Tommy. Can you hear me?" Tommy thought that maybe he could help. Maybe if Wilbur recognised his voice it would help him, because Tommy’s voice isn't associated with Wilbur’s trauma. Even though Techno hadn't contributed to it, he was always there. Wilbur’s desperate pleading didn't cease, and Techno had to keep blocking himself so that Wilbur didn't kick him. His arm was bleeding from how hard Wilbur had been gripping it. Techno started to tap the same, familiar rhythm onto Wilbur's hand. It would usually always pull him back, but it wasn't working. Techno was starting to silently panic. "Wilbur?" Tommy repeated gently. "Are you there?" Wilbur broke into sobs, his pleading becoming completely incoherent. 

Wilbur couldn't hear anything . He was stuck in this horrific loop and all he could see was him. He was exhausted and scared. 

"I- I don't want to go- please! Someone-" He could feel his heart beating out of his chest, he could see his father's face like he was really there. There was a rational part of his mind that knew he was safe, but it was completely overshadowed by utter terror. 

"You know that I'm the only person that has the strength to tolerate you."

He was confirming every single one of Wilbur’s anxieties. 

"-ilbur? Please?" Wilbur’s frantic struggling stopped abruptly. That was Tommy’s voice. He froze for a few seconds, the only noise being his own ragged breaths. "...Wilby?" Tommy's voice was quiet, like it was a last resort. 

"T-Tommy? Is that Tommy?" Wilbur croaked, his eyes opening. Tommy nodded vigorously. 

"Yeah! It's Tommy! Techno is beside you. You're okay, aren't you?" Wilbur held out his hands, examining them like he was making sure he was real. There were a few beats of silence, and they all watched Wilbur’s expression carefully. 

Wilbur forced back every single emotion he was feeling. Anger, pain, sadness, fear, hysteria. And he forced a weak, tired smile. 

"Yeah. I'm okay." 

Nothing scared Techno more than that smile. 

Chapter Text

hello readers 

so as you might have noticed, as of late, updates on this fic have been few and far between. writer's block has been hitting me more often than usual and i'm finding it harder and harder to put out chapters that i'm fully content with. 

so i think i need to take a break from this fic. i'm not stopping this fic or abandoning it I PROMISE. i just need a refresher. i'll probably be uploading a few oneshots here and there, so keep an eye out for those! 

i appreciate you all, and i'll see you when i get back

-vienna <3

Chapter Text

Wilbur was out of sight the second they entered the house.
“The spare room is upstairs and to the left, if you need somewhere to sleep.” Puffy told him. He nodded silently, and immediately made his way upstairs and into the room. He shut the door after him. Techno crept up after him to make sure he was okay, considering his track record. He knocked a few times on the door, getting no response. He knew Wilbur wouldn't mind Techno coming in, so he let himself in quietly. He opened the door, seeing how exhausted and afraid Wilbur looked. He looked like the same Wilbur he knew three months ago. Which wasn't a good thing. 

"You okay? Need anything?" Techno mumbled awkwardly, staring at the floor. He was flooded with guilt every time he looked at his twin. His eye-bags were so severe that they almost looked like bruises. His dim brown eyes, his thin, cracked lips. He looked so sad. Techno knew, deep down, that it wasn't his fault, but he shouldn't have left Wilbur at the table of the ice cream shop alone. He wouldn't have been alone with him if he'd stayed. He should have kept him safe. 

He knew better now.

Wilbur nodded silently, his eyes blank. He was still distant. 

"I- I don't-" He broke off into a weak cough, his voice straining to formulate even a single sentence. "I don't need anything. I- I'm fine." He had that monotone voice, the same one he'd had after they escaped home. Techno hated it. 

He paused for a moment. "Are you sure you don't need anything.?" He asked gently, frowning. "You haven't eate-"

"I'm fine." Wilbur snapped, cutting Techno off mid sentence. There was no venom to his tone, he just didn't want Techno to finish his sentence. "I think I need to sleep, or something. I don't know." 

Techno nodded, reluctantly walking back over to the door. "Okay, text me if you need anything." 

Wilbur gave Techno a brief thumbs-up before burying himself in blankets and sinking down into the mattress. 

"Bye Tech." He said quietly. Techno closed the door quietly, knowing even a faint loud noise would startle Wilbur. He was still on edge. 

So are you. 

Techno bit his lip, shaking off the thought before it could germinate into something bigger. He was fine. 

Wilbur decided it was probably best for him to get some sleep, he was already exhausted. There was little hope of him sleeping through the night, so he might as well sprinkle in a few naps. He tried to clear his mind, keeping his eyes firmly shut. He knew that if he kept them open his eyes would manage to trick him into thinking someone was there. 

How will you know if someone is there if your eyes are closed? If you're asleep?

Wilbur winced at the thought, trying to ignore it. How was he meant to sleep when his mind was so full of bees? He turned on his side, pulling his pillow over his ear. He could hear the quiet noises of children playing from outside the window. He hated it. The laughter was just a bitter reminder that Wilbur never got to do that. 

They were mocking him.

He hummed quietly, inaudible to everyone but himself. Hopefully he'd be able to drown out his thoughts enough to doze off. He used to be able to play guitar to block out his thoughts. 

Back to the guitar again. 

It seemed that everything he thought of managed to circle back to that battered old guitar. He'd give anything to get her back. It was a cheap, dingy guitar with rusty strings, one that he'd spent months hiding money to save up for. It was a miracle he was ever allowed to keep it. He had dreamt of leaving, with nothing but a guitar on his back. He would tour the world, he would finally feel fulfilled. Ballet never had, and never would fill the void that music did. And now he had neither. He was useless. But at least he could rest. He felt himself give over to sleep, and he dozed off. 

Wilbur woke up, feeling surprisingly well rested. He was actually in a good mood for once. He sat at the side of the bed, letting his brain fully wake up before going downstairs. He pulled out his phone, staring blankly at the screen. He couldn't even see anything. The brightness must be fucked, or something. He stood up, deciding it was probably best to get changed. It didn't really occur to him that this wasn't his house, he was in Puffy’s house. He obviously didn't have any clothes here. And yet, when he opened the wardrobe, there were perfectly fitting clothes waiting for him. They were comfier than anything he'd ever owned. He turned around to walk to the door, hearing a quiet rustle coming from the curtains. He startled, his head shooting back to see what the noise was. There was nothing there. He frowned, pushing back his nerves. He turned back over to the door, and the noise repeated. He turned his head faster, hoping to catch whatever was messing with the curtains. 

"Tommy? Tech? This isn't funny." He mumbled, his voice trembling. The curtains continued to shake, even while Wilbur was looking right at them. "...Ranboo? Tubbo? Who's there? Could you maybe, uh, stop?" There was no response. No mischievous giggling. Nothing at all. Wilbur took an anxious step towards the curtain, the rustling not stopping. He continued to walk cautiously towards it, feeling his heartbeat pick up the closer he got. 

He was standing right in front of the curtain, and the rustling had completely stopped. 

"Tommy, if it's you, or anyone else, now is your time to- to come out." He whispered, his terror evident in his voice. He took a deep, shaky breath, gripping the curtain. Abruptly, he pulled it back. 

Revealing his father smiling down at him. 

Wilbur woke up with a blood curdling scream, in complete hysterics. His vision blurred as he desperately called out for help, his already hoarse voice giving up on him. It was a matter of seconds before Techno came barrelling into the room, his eyes wide with panic. 

"Wilbur? Wil!" Techno grabbed Wilbur’s shoulders gently, trying to ground him. He realised immediately that it was a horrible idea as Wilbur’s screams grew louder. "Wilbur, please- please breathe. It's Techno." Wilbur could feel his chest tightening, his sobs struggling to release. 

"Th-the-" He tried to speak, breaking into an uncontrollable cough. Techno wrapped him into a loose hug, not so tight that he'd find it even harder to breathe.

"You're okay. It's okay. I'm here. What's wrong?" Wilbur held onto Techno like he was going to disappear if he let go. His nails curled into Techno’s t-shirt, and he tried to calm himself down before speaking. He let out a few hiccups, trying to steady his breathing. Techno gently tapped the rhythm on his palm.

"B-behind- the- the curtains." He whispered, his voice shrill, a hint of hysteria lacing his tone. Techno frowned. 

"What's behind the curtains, Wilbur?" He felt Wilbur's heart rate pick up as soon as he asked. "Do you want me to go check?" Wilbur held onto Techno even tighter. 

"DON'T!" He screeched, "He'll- he'll hurt you." Techno froze for a moment, confused. 

"You had a nightmare." He mumbled, realising. "It's okay, there's nothing there. I promise." Wilbur's grip loosened, and he started to calm down slightly. 

"I- I did. I remember falling asleep." He whispered, his voice croaky. 

"Yeah, you're okay. Everything is okay. Do you want me to stay?" Wilbur thought for a moment, eventually shaking his head. 

"I- I think I'm okay. I don't want to keep you here."

"Are you sure? Because I can stay." Techno scanned Wilbur’s expression with concern. He was hesitant to leave Wilbur alone. 

"I'm sure. You should- you should sleep." Wilbur pulled away from Techno’s hug, wiping the tears from his eyes. Techno nodded silently, walking over to the door.

"Okay, um, please call for me if you need anything." 

"I- I will." 

Techno shut the door, and he ran into the bathroom, locking the door. He pressed his head against it, relishing in the cold wood against his forehead. He turned on the tap, leaving it running. He dipped his head into the sink, lingering there for a moment. He pulled his head out, letting the water soak into his skin. He looked at himself in the mirror, noticing that he looked like a mess. Him and Wilbur were identical, but they had never looked the exact same. But Techno was starting to look more and more like Wilbur everyday.

You act like him too. You're petrified. 

Techno turned off the tap with a little more force than he intended, pressing his palms against the sink. He stayed there for a moment, his head bowed. He let himself take a few deep breaths. Deep breaths turned into quiet weeping, and he was too exhausted to hold it back. He let himself cry for a moment, letting out as much emotion as his closed off brain would let him. 

He wiped his tears away, and he left the bathroom. No one else had to know he'd cried. It was between him and the bathroom mirror. 

Techno approached the staircase, making his way back downstairs. He was stopped halfway by Tommy, who looked anxious about something. 

"Is Wilbur okay? He looked…" He trailed off, but Techno got the idea. 

"He should be okay. I think he's just a little shaken up at the moment." Techno replied, his tone assuring. Tommy’s demeanour visibly loosened, and he looked slightly less anxious. Techno was always surprised by his ability to be able to sound confident in what he was saying when he wasn't, at all. He had no idea if Wilbur was okay. The screaming after that nightmare. It was pure, primal panic. It was petrifying. That smile after his breakdown in the car scared him more than any amount of sobbing did.

He didn't want Wilbur to cover up his emotions like he did. 

Techno surprised himself with the thought.

I don't. I'm not covering anything. I'm fine.

Techno’s eye twitched. Tommy frowned, but didn't comment on it. 

"Can I see him?" He asked quietly, his eyes repeatedly shooting over to Wilbur's door. Techno hesitated. Wilbur had gone through a complete mental breakdown today, he didn't want Wilbur to stress himself out.

But as much as it pained him to admit, Wilbur loved Tommy. If anything was going to cheer him up, it would be Tommy. So Techno swallowed his pride.

"It's up to you. Just, if he tells you to leave, or hints at it, you leave. Okay?" Tommy nodded quickly, looking slightly nervous. Techno hadn’t noticed the sharp edge to his voice, and he felt a pang of guilt. 

"Thanks Techno. You should uh, you should try and get some sleep or something. You look really tired, big man." Tommy gave Techno a weak smile. Techno would have taken offence, but he knew Tommy was right. He hadn’t felt this exhausted in a while, so it was a given that it would show on his face.

"Yeah, I'll probably get some sleep in a minute." He mumbled as he made his way down the rest of the staircase. Tommy lingered for a second, frowning. He didn't know what it was about Techno, but he didn't seem right. He wasn't as nonchalant as he made himself out to be. 

Techno entered Puffy's living room, rubbing his eyes groggily. He had a headache that he just couldn't seem to shake. Puffy was sitting on the couch, nursing a cup of coffee in her hands. She smiled at him as he entered. 

"Everything okay with Wilbur?" She asked, putting down her coffee to give Techno her full attention. 

"He's, um- he's… okay. I think he's going to try and get some sleep." Techno replied, fiddling with the zip on his hoodie. Puffy nodded. 

"And what about you? Are you okay?" Techno's brows furrowed, and he looked up at Puffy. Her head was tilted, almost like she knew exactly how he felt. 

"I'm fine. Nothing happened to me really, I'm okay. Why wouldn't I be?" Techno winced, noticing that he was overcompensating slightly. Puffy frowned. 

"You don't have to be okay just because nothing happened to you directly. Even then, I think you have plenty of reasons to be upset." She smiled patiently at him, a direct contrast to Techno’s grumpy, slightly defensive expression. 

"I'm not upset. Wilbur is upset." He replied, like Puffy was missing something obvious. 

"You can both be upset, you know. You're allowed to be upset." 

"I can't. Who would look after Wilbur if I was scared too?" Techno was just confused, now. He felt like Puffy was living in a different world to him. She probably was. She was analysing his face carefully, her eyes scanning every detail.

"You are upset, though." She replied, and Techno’s head shot up to look at her. "I can see it in your eyes. You're good at hiding your feelings in your face and demeanour, I'll give you that. But eyes will always reveal what you're trying to hide. You're hurting. Just like Wilbur, maybe even more."

"I'm n-" Techno attempted to speak up but Puffy wasn't finished. 

"You're allowed to hurt, okay? Cry your eyes out, because you can. I cried when Ranboo forgot his bag on the way to school this morning, just, because! I felt better afterwards, and I moved along with my day. I need you to understand that-" 

"I'm going upstairs now. Thank you Puffy." Techno replied bluntly, stopping Puffy in her rant. He stood up quietly and walked over to the living room entrance, leaving her frowning. He lingered for a moment. "I've survived 16 years without needing your advice, Puffy. I think I'm okay."

"You survived. You didn't live."

Techno had heard enough, he balled his fists together, storming out of the room. 

Tommy knocked quietly on the spare room door, waiting patiently for a response. 

"Come i-" Wilbur was cut off by a barrage of coughs, his voice croaky from his earlier screams and lack of use. "Come in." Tommy stepped in awkwardly, managing to smile. Wilbur’s face lit up, just a little. He waved faintly, still wrapped up in his blanket cocoon. 

"Hi Wil. You okay?" Tommy asked, and Wilbur hesitated for a moment before nodding. Tommy hid his frown, looking around the room for something to talk about. Wilbur wasn't exactly in the conversation starting mood. Tommy noticed the TV mounted on the wall. "You know you can use that, right?" He told him, pointing to it. He used to always watch movies with Tubbo and Ranboo in here. Where are Tubbo and Ranboo? Wilbur tilted his head. 

"Oh. I wasn't sure. I wasn't allowed- I mean, I never really watched TV at ho- um, back in my old house. I wouldn't know what to watch." He sunk further into his blankets, seemingly uncomfortable with the mention of his old house. "He'd get really mad if we watched something without his permission." Wilbur squeezed his eyes shut. Tommy wasn't shocked by this, he knew better by now. It was just sad. 

"Do you want to watch something now? It might help take your mind off of… things. It must be better than staring at the wall." 

Wilbur grimaced. "I suppose so." Tommy clocked Wilbur’s uncertainty immediately. 

"You don't have to, if you want to take a nap or something that's okay too." 

"No. It's okay. I just, I don't like doing things that got me in trouble before. It feels wrong. Even if it's just TV. But it's okay. It will take my mind off things." He moved over on the bed, making room for Tommy to sit beside him. Once Tommy sat down beside him, he lifted up his arm to drape the blankets over both him and Tommy. 

"Thanks Wil." Tommy was beaming. Wilbur smiled back, the first genuine smile in a while. Tommy reached forward, grabbing the remote from the bedside table and turning the TV on. It played a little jingle as it turned on, and Wilbur stiffened immediately, squeezing his eyes shut. He pulled the blankets back up over his face. Tommy noticed immediately, frowning. 

"You okay?" He asked quietly, a hint of uncertainty in his voice. Wilbur hesitated for a moment, like he wasn't even fully sure what was wrong with him. 

"Uh, I think- I think I had the same TV. It's just the music- the jingle, um, it reminds me of…" He trailed off, mumbling incoherently before falling silent. He didn't exactly want to dig deep enough to see what memory was linked to that jingle. If he thought about it too hard, he'd trigger something. He would rather be numb and anxious, if it meant he didn't have to face whatever monsters were lingering in the back of his brain. He'd had enough fear for today. 

"Oh, shit. I'm sorry." Tommy immediately felt a wave of guilt, even though there was nothing he could have possibly done to know that. Wilbur was more closed off again. He'd been so close to affection, but he was afraid again. Tommy couldn't help but feel at fault. "Are you okay though? Do you want some alone ti-"

"No!" Wilbur immediately blurted, realising that he didn't want to be alone anymore. Not after that nightmare. "Don't- just don't go." please. 

Tommy paused for a second, taken aback by Wilbur’s visceral response. 

"Okay. I won't go anywhere, I promise. I'm not going anywhere." He replied gently, noticing how incredibly on edge Wilbur was. More than usual. It was more than fair considering the incredibly long day he'd had. He had to explain all of his trauma to a less than helpful police officer, relive that trauma in the most terrifying way possible, and have an episode in the car. To Tommy, it was a miracle Wilbur was still functioning. "Will I pick a movie then?" He asked, managing a smile. 

"Yeah, okay." 

"What about Up?" Tommy suggested idly, mindlessly scrolling through rows upon rows of mediocre movies. Wilbur shrugged, his lips stretching into a frown. "It's a really good movie, a bit sad at the start though." 

"What kind of sad? What uh, what happens?" Wilbur asked quietly, playing with the duvet covers. Tommy tilted his head, trying to think of the right way to phrase it. 

"Well, the start is two kids who meet and become best friends. They fall in love and get old together." He paused for a second, thinking of how best to explain it. "The wife gets really sick, and she… you know." He trailed off. A bit of colour drained from Wilbur’s cheeks, and he immediately shook his head. 

"Uhm. Maybe- maybe not. I wouldn't really like that. Sorr-" Tommy covered Wilbur’s mouth before he could finish speaking. He tensed up instinctively, biting into his bottom lip without thinking. He managed to mask the flinch as a cough again, ignoring how fast his heart was beating. 

"Don't say sorry, Wil. We can watch something else." Tommy went back to flicking through movies. "What genres do you like?" Wilbur furrowed his brows, deep in thought. He always took Tommy’s questions so seriously, like there was a punishment for an insufficient answer. 

"I'm not sure. Just, something that isn't scary? Or sad. Or, um- something that doesn't remind me of anything." His voice had lowered to almost a whisper, like he was ashamed. Tommy nodded with a faint grimace. 

"I can find something like that." He replied, clicking into the feel-good section. 

After a few more minutes of searching, Tommy was getting annoyed. "I can't find anything good! It's all fucking shit! Every movie is shit!" He sulked, slamming the remote back down onto the bed and crossing his arms. Wilbur frowned. 

"Tommy, it's okay. We can find a good movie, just keep looking. Don't get upset because you can't find one right away." Wilbur assured him, his voice softening. He shoved back his own layers of protection for a moment, leaning forward to tap Tommy on the shoulder. Tommy looked back, his eyes watering and lips trembling. Wilbur’s eyes widened. "Why are you crying? Don't cry. It's okay, just don't cry, Tommy. What's wrong?" 

"I wanted to find a movie to give you a distraction but I can't find one! It's stupid, there's a whole app full of movies and I can't find a single one good enough." He huffed, glaring at the remote. 

"That's okay, Tommy. That's not anything to cry about! Don't get frustrated over it,, it's alright. We can find a good movie in a second. I don't need a movie for a distraction, your company is enough." 

"Do you mean that?" Tommy asked quietly.

"I do." Wilbur replied, smiling weakly. He gently pulled Tommy over beside him, wrapping him up into a tight hug. "Course I do." 

Wilbur had nearly dozed off by the time Tommy had finally picked something out.

"I found something!" He yelled abruptly, frightening Wilbur. The brunette startled, his eyes shooting open. 

"Oh, cool. What did you- what did you find?" He mumbled, taking a deep breath. Tommy always forgot how jumpy Wilbur was. It seemed like Wilbur was going to have to adjust to Tommy’s excitable personality, rather than Tommy adjusting to Wilbur's more timid one. 

"Hamilton!" Tommy replied, beaming. "It's a musical. It's really good, catchy too. I think you'd like it." 

"It sounds fun. What's it about?" 

"Alexander Hamilton. Just watch it and you'll see!" Tommy was practically bouncing up and down with excitement. Wilbur couldn't help but crack a smile. It was hard to stay gloomy when Tommy was around. Something about his joyous demeanour was infectious. 

"Yeah, okay. Put it on." 

Wilbur was completely infatuated by the musical, not making a sound apart from humming along to the more predictable melodies. He loved it. He noticed Tommy looking over to him every few seconds to make sure he was enjoying it, which he appreciated. But Wilbur didn't need to fake his infatuation at all. I wish I had my guitar. He would love to pick out some of the chords and try to play them on guitar. Too bad he didn't have his guitar. 

Someday. 

"Do you like it?" Tommy asked, a hopeful lilt to his voice. Like he was praying that Wilbur would love it as much as he did. 

"I love it." Wilbur replied. And he was being genuine. "Thank you for showing this to me, Tommy." Tommy smiled so wide that Wilbur was convinced he was staring at the sun. He completely understood why Phil called him sunshine. They kept watching, with Wilbur enjoying every second. Until they got to a particular song. A song Wilbur recognised but never knew the origins of. As soon as he heard the lyrics, he froze, eyes widening. 

-Dear Theodosia, what to say to you?

He knew this one, he was sure of it. He had heard it in the restaurant that he'd met Shelby and James at. So this is where it came from. His mother sang it to him for years, and he'd never asked where it came from. 

"Look at my son! Pride is not the word I'm looking for."

Wilbur could hear her soft voice as clear as day. Like she was right in front of him. Oh, how he wished she was here. 

"You outshine the morning sun, my son. When you smile, I fall apart." Her soothing voice would always put him to sleep, no matter what. No matter what injury he had, no matter who had screamed at him, no matter how much his muscles hurt from hours upon hours of training. She was always there to lull him to sleep, no matter what. 

She was. Not anymore. Wilbur always knew no matter how deeply hurt he was, he would always be able to heal with the right amount of care. But it just seemed that no matter how much time he allowed himself to heal, to forget , the constant pain of losing his mother never gave up. It was the one wound he couldn't heal. It wasn't fair. Maybe he was wrong about being able to heal despite everything. It was proving difficult to even function. How much longer could he wallow in his own sorrows before Phil got tired of his shit? It was a miracle he wasn't out on the streets already.

"-lbur? Are you with me?" Tommy was looking at him with a hint of concern. Wilbur blinked, pulling himself out of his thoughts. 

"Sorry. I just- I've um. I've heard that one before. When I was a kid." He explained, stumbling over his words. He felt like crying. Tommy paused the TV, turning to look at Wilbur. 

"Are you remembering it in a good or bad way?" He asked quietly. Wilbur paused, furrowing his brows. 

"I don't know." He whispered, burying his head in his blankets. "I don't know. It feels like it should be good but it's- it's not." Wilbur felt tears stinging his eyelids. 

"What was the memory?" Tommy asked, frowning. 

Wilbur wasn't ready for that. He didn't say a word. 

"Wil?" 

Wilbur closed his eyes. Tommy just never knew when to stop pushing. Wilbur needed to be alone. He had something new to process. 

"Who was in the memory?" Tommy's voice was laced with worry. He wanted to help Wilbur somehow. "Was Techno in it? How recent was it?" 

"T-Tommy!" Wilbur blurted out, louder than he was anticipating. He just wanted Tommy to stop talking. "I need you to go, okay?" His voice softened, but the stress was still evident. "I'm sorry. I just need some time, alright? I- I need to clear my head. I have shit to think about." 

Tommy’s frown deepened. He didn't want to leave. Wilbur had been begging him to stay a few minutes ago, and now he was pleading for the opposite. He was getting mixed signals. Did Wilbur really want him to leave, or not? 

"Wilbur, what's- what happened? Why-?"

"Tommy. Please go." Set a boundary. 

Tommy bit his lip, ready to protest. He wanted to know why Wilbur was upset. Maybe he could help? why can't I help? He hesitated for a moment, hearing Wilbur’s panicked breathing. 

"Just, if he tells you to leave, or hints at it, you leave . Okay?" Techno's eyes were burning into Tommy’s head. He meant it, and he needed Tommy to know how serious he was. 

Tommy remembered how harsh Techno had sounded when he said it. It was a command that wasn't to be ignored. So Tommy stood up, walking over to the doorway. He lingered for a second, trying to think of something to say. 

"I'm sorry, Wil." 

"It's okay Tommy. It's not your fault." 

Wilbur broke into silent weeping the moment he heard the door click shut. He had just wanted a distraction. All he'd wanted was a second. A break from the constant fear and trauma he had to relive in his mind. Every agonising second, it was plaguing his every thought. He just wanted to watch a movie with Tommy in peace. Nothing was ever really that simple, though. He knew that by now. He took a deep breath, trying to straighten out his breathing pattern. He was okay, that was in the past now. 

He tried to kidnap you today, how is any of this in the past? He has the house address, for fucks sake. In what world is that "in the past"? You are right in the middle of this. 

The path to finally getting peace, finally getting rid of his father for good, was a lot longer than he'd anticipated. Maybe it would have been easier if he'd never met Phil or Puffy. 

That's not true. You know it's not. You're looking for the easy way out. 

Wilbur knew that he was in a better place now. But in reality he was just fucking petrified. He knew that the long, winding road to peace ended somewhere Wilbur didn't want to end up. Somewhere he didn't ever want to think about. 

It ended in that courtroom. And the mere thought of it made Wilbur sick to his stomach.

Chapter Text

Wilbur woke up the next day, feeling more tired than when he fell asleep. He didn't exactly count it as a night's sleep, though, with how many times he'd woken up. Sleep was useless, at this point. He dragged himself out of bed, making it halfway to the door before his knees buckled under his weight. 

"Fuck!" He croaked, pain searing through his joints as his knees clattered against the floor. He pressed his forehead against the cold floor, taking in raspy breaths. He tried to pull himself back up by grabbing the bedside table, only knocking it on its side. The glass of water on the table fell onto the floor with a crash, the shards flying across the wooden panels. Wilbur squeezed his eyes shut, his mind feeling blurred. He could barely register his surroundings. Why was he so hot? His face was burning. But I'm shivering. He attempted for the second time to stand up, realising quickly that he was far too weak. He broke into an uncontrollable cough, feeling his stomach tense up with every wheeze. He let out a weak whimper, lying alongside the glass shards helplessly. He registered the quiet noise of the door creaking open.

"Wilbur? I heard something breaking, is everything-?" Techno trailed off, his concern being replaced with fear. "Wil? Jesus christ, fuck, are you okay?" He knelt down beside Wilbur, avoiding the glass. Wilbur groaned quietly, still shivering. 

"Tech- Techie?" He murmured, his teeth chattering as he spoke. "Is that-?" 

"Yeah, I'm here. I'm with you. What happened?" 

"I- I don't know. I- I tried to get out of bed and I think I fell, and um, I don't know. I feel really hot. I'm burning, I think." Techno noticed how red Wilbur’s cheeks looked. It was a sharp contrast to his usual ghostly pale face. He held his hand to Wilbur's forehead, immediately pulling it away as if he'd burned himself. Wilbur tried to cover his mouth as he continued to cough, his vision blurring. 

"Jesus. You have a fever." He grabbed Wilbur’s arms, pulling the brunette up and onto the bed. Techno hated how light he was. He despised it. He propped Wilbur’s head up against the headboard, seeing how out of it he was.

"I- I don't have a fever. I'm fine." Wilbur insisted, not wanting to cause a fuss. His head felt incredibly light. "It's just- I'm just tired." Techno raised an eyebrow, not believing Wilbur at all.

"You do. You very clearly have a high fever, Wil. I'm going to get Puffy. I'll be back. Just- don't move, okay? There's glass on the floor." Wilbur frowned, unimpressed. 

"I'm fiiiine!" He croaked, his head swaying to the side as he spoke. Techno examined Wilbur for a moment, concluding that he couldn't leave him on his own. 

"So you just fell on the floor for what, a hobby?" Techno retorted, leaving Wilbur glaring at him, his breaths uneven as he tried to catch his breath from the coughing fits. "Tommy?" Techno called out, listening carefully for a response. 

"Yeah?" Tommy called back from the other room almost immediately, his voice gravelly from sleep. 

"Could you come here for a sec? Wilbur’s room?" There was silence, but Techno could hear Tommy getting out of bed. 

"Why did you tell him? I'm- I'm fine!" Wilbur’s speech was slurring even more now, and his cheeks were even redder, if that was possible. He wasn't fully sure where he was. 

"Wil, you're delirious. Stop talking." Techno mumbled, not caring too much about hurting the brunette's feelings. He knew he wouldn't remember it once his fever went down. 

"I'm not fucking delirious! I'm FINE!" Wilbur yelled, his demeanour not doing his statement any favours. Tommy entered the room, looking concerned. 

"What's wrong? Is Wilbur-?" He trailed off, seeing how ill Wilbur looked.

"Wilbur has a fever, I think he's a little delirious. I'm going to get Puffy, so just keep an eye on him." Techno brushed past him, walking out the door with no further explanation. 

"...okay." He mumbled, watching Techno leave feeling slightly unsure at what he was meant to be doing. He turned to Wilbur, who was shivering almost cartoonishly. He grabbed the blankets, pulling them up over the brunette. Wilbur shook them off immediately. 

"I'm burning, I don't need a f- fucking blanket." He hissed, his eyelids fluttering. Tommy blinked, the snappy remark completely out of character for Wilbur. 

"Lie down straight, you're freaking me out. Your head keeps rolling to the side." 

Wilbur scowled, but he followed Tommy’s order slowly. He winced, his muscles aching as he did so. "You okay?" Tommy asked, noticing Wilbur’s arm twitch.

"Yeah, fine." He replied through gritted teeth, making Tommy frown. 

"Are you sure you don't need a blanket? You're shivering a lot." Tommy wasn't fully sure how fevers worked, and he didn't want Wilbur to be cold. 

"Stop- stop fucking asking me! I'm perfectly fine!" Wilbur insisted, with each word he spoke dragging out unnecessarily. He looked like he was about to fall asleep. 

Techno reentered the bedroom, closely followed by Puffy. 

"He's completely out of it." Techno mumbled, pointing to the brunette, who was barely lucid at this point. Puffy sat at the edge of the bed, thermometer in hand. 

"Oh dear. Wilbur, is it okay if I take your temperature? It'll only take a second." Wilbur looked up at Puffy, his eyes narrowed. 

"Why?" He whispered, barely able to keep his eyes open. 

"Because you're sick, and I want to figure out how sick you are." 

"But 'm not sick. I- I've felt like this before. And he told me that I wasn't sick." He replied, his voice breaking as he spoke. Puffy’s face plummeted. He didn't need to elaborate for her to understand who he was talking about. 

"He was wrong. He was lying to you, okay? You are sick, and we want you to get better." She spoke gently and slowly, noticing that Wilbur was quickly starting to get overwhelmed. There was a trace of confusion on his face. 

"But- but I've danced- I've danced like this before." He broke into a weak cough, and Puffy felt her heart break. 

"You shouldn't have. You never should have been forced to do that. That'll never happen again, okay? We're going to let your body recover." 

"...okay." He looked up at Puffy, his distrust towards her fizzling away slightly. "...take my temperature." He sounded hesitant, but he was too exhausted to really care.

"Thank you Wilbur." Puffy held the thermometer up to his mouth, waiting for the beep. Once it beeped, she checked the reading and her eyes widened. "Surely- surely not. Hold on." She took his temperature again. The same reading. 

"What is it?" Tommy asked, peering over to look at the reading. "Forty degrees? Is that bad?" 

Puffy nodded. "Far too high." 

"What's- what's wrong with me?" Wilbur asked, his voice laced with panic. Techno wrapped him up in a hug, not caring about the fact that he could get sick too. 

"Nothing. You're just sick, but you'll get better." Techno reassured him, his voice gentle. Wilbur’s eyelids continued to flutter, but he tried to fight back sleep. He was afraid of falling asleep again. 

"Techno 'm tired." He whispered, wincing every time he coughed. 

"It's okay Wilbur. You can sleep if you need to." Techno whispered back softly, feeling a pang of guilt every time Wilbur coughed. 

"W-what if I don't wake up?" Wilbur asked, his voice croaky. He sounded petrified, and Techno physically winced at the question. He pursed his lips, keeping his own emotions out of his tone.

"Don't- don't fucking say that, okay?" Techno hugged Wilbur a little tighter, trying to comfort himself as well as Wilbur. He knew Wilbur was delirious and scared,, but that didn't mean his words didn't get under Techno’s skin. "You'll wake up. You can sleep, o-okay?" He sighed shakily, already feeling Wilbur's body loosen up. He was still shivering. A numbing silence fell over the room, broken by Puffy standing up and walking to the doorway. She pressed her palm against the doorframe, trying to figure out what to do.

"Tommy, could you help me set up the sofa bed downstairs? And Techno, would you be able to carry Wilbur down? I can keep a closer eye on him down there." Techno nodded, carrying Wilbur across the room, careful not to wake him up. He deserved a few moments of uninterrupted sleep. 

Techno curled up on the sofa bed beside Wilbur, making sure he was alright. Puffy and Tommy sat on the couch beside it, the room completely silent. Wilbur was still shivering violently, even while asleep. Tommy started to chew on his sleeve, his worry was evident.

"I should call Phil." Puffy mumbled, standing up to pace back and forth as she waited for him to pick up.

"Hel-" Phil barely got a word in before Puffy cut across him.

"Hi. Phil, do you know when you'll be back?" 

"I just have to sign a few forms, yeah. I won't be long." There was a pause. "Why do you ask? Is everything alright?" 

"Wilbur is sick. He has a really heavy fever, which is a lot more worrying for him." Puffy walked out into the kitchen, hushing her voice so she wouldn't worry Techno and Tommy. "A bad enough fever can cause seizures, and we know that Wilbur is quite prone to them. We'll be alright if we keep a close eye on him." 

"Shit. Is he alright? I mean- is he-?"

"He's sleeping right now. He woke up, collapsed onto the floor and Techno found him." Puffy heard Phil swear under his breath. 

"Okay, I'll try and get out of here as quickly as I can. Is there anything I need to pick up for him?" 

"Maybe some ibuprofen? Once he wakes up he'll need to drink a lot of liquids, so maybe bottles of water." 

"Wil doesn't do pills. He hates them." Phil replied, biting his lip. 

"Okay. Just water." Puffy paused, remembering that she was meant to pick up Tubbo and Ran. "Shit! Phil? Would you be able to pick up Tubbo and Ranboo too? They're at a sleepover." 

"Course I can. I'll be as fast as I can."

"Thank you Phil." 

"Don't thank me Puff, I should be thanking you for taking care of them."

"We can do thank yous later, okay? Just focus on getting that paperwork signed so you can get to your son." 

"So-" Phil paused for a second, letting the word sink in. "Okay. Uh, see you in a bit." And he hung up. 

The room was dead silent, everyone listening intently to Wilbur's ragged breathing. It was like some kind of torturous metronome. Techno couldn't take it. 

"When is Phil back?" He asked anxiously, his nails digging into his palms. 

"He should be on the way back now, he's bringing Tubbo and Ran back with him." Puffy replied, checking her watch. Techno gritted his teeth. Great. That was the last thing they needed, more people. Wilbur was already in an incredibly sensitive place, having seen his father for the first time since they escaped. They could do without two rowdy teenagers. Or, one rowdy teenager. Ranboo had seemed pretty reserved. Techno looked over to Tommy, who seemed completely wrapped in worry. He was staring down at his hands, his face expressionless aside from a frown. Techno underestimated how close Wilbur and Tommy were. 

"Is Wil okay?" He asked quietly, feeling childish the second he said it

 Wilbur was right there, in front of him. He didn't need to ask. But he still desperately craved reassurance. Puffy looked at him with something resembling pity, a more kind version of it. 

"He'll be okay." Puffy said softly. "He'll rest up, and he'll get better in no time." Techno nodded mutely, watching Wilbur's chest rise and fall slowly. He wanted to block his ears, unable to bear the sounds of Wilbur’s uneven breaths. He chewed on the inside of his lip, trying to keep himself from crying. He wrapped his arms around himself, closing his eyes and imagining that it was a hug. He was so tired. 

"Try not to be too loud, alright? Wilbur is hopefully still sleeping." Phil told Ranboo and Tubbo as he quietly opened the door. They both nodded, Tubbo's eye twitching as he tried to repress his verbal tics. Puffy rushed over to the door the moment they entered, wrapping Tubbo and Ranboo up in a hug. 

"Did you both have fun?" She asked with a smile, her voice hushed. 

"Yeah! We- brr- we played Mario Kart." Tubbo replied, beaming. Ranboo nodded in agreement with a timid smile. 

"Great. You can both go upstairs if you'd like, but if you're staying down here try and stay quiet, okay? Go into the other living room, Wilbur is on the sofa bed in the main one."

"Okay, I'll probably stay down here." Ranboo mumbled, walking out into the living room. Tubbo followed closely behind, a little bit too hyper. 

That left Phil and Puffy in the doorway. 

"How is he?" Phil asked anxiously.

"He's just been sleeping. Hopefully he'll wake up soon so we can get him to drink something." She told him, walking back into the living room where Techno was lying with Wilbur, his face blank. He looked over as they entered, his face expressionless. 

"Hiya Techno, you doing alright mate?" Phil hid his frown. Techno looked absolutely exhausted. He nodded blankly, like he was barely listening at all. "Did you sleep okay?"

I didn't sleep at all.

He nodded, because lying was easier. Wilbur started to stir in his sleep, startling Techno. Wilbur’s eyebrows furrowed, his entire body tense. Techno watched him carefully, praying he wasn't having another nightmare. Wilbur’s face scrunched up like he was in pain, but he was still asleep. 

"Is he okay?" Phil mouthed to Techno, his eyes narrowed as he watched Wilbur like a hawk. If he started seizing, Phil would know. Techno's lips thinned.

"I don't know." He mouthed back, pushing his hair out of his face with a heavy sigh. Wilbur let out a loud whimper, his stirring becoming more violent. Like he was fighting something off. Techno's eyes widened, unsure of what to do. He didn't want to touch him and scare him even more. It was when Wilbur let out a blood curdling scream, that Techno fully froze up. He pushed himself away, blocking his ears. There were few things he couldn't handle, and one of them was screaming. His breathing grew heavy, and he tried to drown out Wilbur’s screams. Phil and Puffy both rushed over to Wilbur, gently shaking him awake. Techno slowly curled in on himself, shutting down. He pulled his knees up to his chest and squeezed his eyes shut. He could hear Phil and Puffy quietly comforting Wilbur, not aware of the fact that Techno had finally cracked.

Once Wilbur had finally calmed down, had been given water and an ice pack for his temperature, they noticed Techno. Curled up, trembling. 

"Techno mate, are you alright?" Phil asked quietly, his voice soft and gentle. Techno didn't respond, not registering a word Phil was saying. His eyes started to water. 

"Techno?" Puffy knelt down in front of him, nudging him gently. "Is everything okay?" 

No response. Tears started to roll down Techno’s cheeks, and he didn't even try to hide them as he lifted his head up. Wilbur looked at him with a horrified expression. 

"He's crying!" Wilbur screeched, his speech still slurring. Techno flinched at Wilbur’s shrill voice, covering his ears. "Tech, why are you crying?" 

"Moondrop, I think Techno needs you to be quiet, okay?" Phil whispered, in direct contrast to the brunette. Wilbur’s brows furrowed. 

"Techno, stop crying!" Wilbur yelled, ignoring Phil's request. He was clearly delirious, but he was getting under Techno’s skin. He tried to swipe his tears away, only upsetting himself more in the process. He started to hiccup, making it harder for him to breathe steadily.

"Techno, it's alright. Do you need anything?" Puffy’s voice was soothing, but it didn't calm Techno down much. He shook his head, red lines running down his cheeks from where he cried. Puffy frowned, exchanging a worried look with Phil. 

"You're not supposed to cry!" Wilbur tapped Techno aggressively on the shoulder, making him wince. He tried to remind himself that Wilbur wasn't fully aware of what he was doing and saying, but his breaths were hitching in silent panic. please stop yelling. Wilbur started to shake Techno by the shoulders, trying to get him to respond. Techno shut down even more, his head spinning. Phil gently tried to pry Wilbur away from Techno, as the brunette yelled directly into Techno’s ear. 

"Why are you crying, Techno? Stop!" Techno's eye twitched, he had to leave. He stood up, trying to rush out of the room, but Wilbur grabbed his arm. Techno saw red.

"G-get the fuck off me!" He choked, not even stopping to think before his other arm flew around to slap Wilbur across the face.

There was a numbing silence, only broken by Techno’s uneven breaths.

Techno was out of the room before he could get the chance to see the hand shaped rash on Wilbur’s cheek. 

Chapter Text

"Moondrop, are you okay?" Phil was at Wilbur’s side, staring at him worriedly. Wilbur’s eyes were cloudy, and he made no signs of hearing what Phil had said. Puffy left the room, going to speak with Techno. Wilbur’s hand slowly rose up to touch his cheek, his eyes wide. He wasn't entirely sure what just happened. 

"I-" Wilbur's eyes swimmed with tears. He brushed his hand against the spot on his cheek that was burning, wincing in pain.

techno did that. 

"Wh-" Wilbur opened his mouth to speak, immediately being cut off by a painful coughing fit. He could feel his stomach muscles tensing with each wheeze.

"Mate, are you alright?" Phil's voice was distorted in Wilbur’s mind. Each cough was making the aching in his head worse. He grabbed his throat, starting to feel light-headed. Whatever was stuck in his throat wasn't budging without a fight. He sucked in a sharp breath, his eyes flickering open and shut. "Wilbur?" The concern in Phil’s voice grew, with Wilbur completely unable to respond. The coughing fit eventually subsided, but Wilbur was on the verge of fainting from lack of oxygen. He tried to catch his breath, his head rocking forward. Phil grabbed Wilbur before he could fully collapse, placing his head on the arm of the couch. 

"Phil-" Wilbur choked, grabbing the bottle of water beside him like a lifeline. He started to cry, quiet hiccups escaping him as he tried to stop himself. "Techno, he- he slapped me."  

"I think you pushed him too far, mate." Phil replied, his voice sombre. "He's allowed to cry just like you are." Wilbur’s eyes dropped down to his hands. He didn't respond, pondering what Phil said. 

"Stop crying! You're not supposed to cry!"

"Stop crying. You're pathetic. No one will ever care about you, so you don't need to look for attention." 

Wilbur’s brows furrowed. you're becoming him. He was repeating things his father told him. Repeating them to his own brother. Fuck, his head hurt. 

"Are you hungry, mate? Actually, don't answer that, you need to eat either way." Phil stood up and walked over to the fridge. Wilbur looked away, the thought of food making his stomach growl. He chose to ignore that. not hungry. 

He needed to apologise to Techno, but he was scared. His hand touched the mark on his cheek, and he was once again reminded of what Techno could do when pushed over the edge. They both shared traits with their father, despite how neither wanted to admit it. 

Techno twisted the lock of the spare room door, turning around and sliding down on his back. He pressed his palms down onto the floor, trying to stop himself from trembling. He pressed his eyes shut, trying to keep tears at bay. 

you just can't handle your emotions in any other way, can you? wilbur hates you. 

Techno slammed his fist into the floor, ignoring the searing pain in his knuckles. He had just proved himself right. He failed to regulate himself in any other way, it had to be violence. A wave of disgust flowed through him, examining his swollen fist. He let out a strangled cry, tensing up as he tried to stop the tears from pouring. He fucked up again. 

"I'm sorry." He whispered to himself, wiping his eyes roughly. His frustration was evident. The noise when he slapped Wilbur, his brother, was repeating in his head. Over and over, like some kind of broken vinyl player. The look of shock on everyone's face. Wilbur’s fear, the fear that was reserved for their father, never him. 

you're no different to him. 

Techno slammed his head back into the door, letting out a frustrated, weak sob. He was becoming the one thing he feared. There was a knock on the door, and Techno could have mistook it for the frantic beating of his own heart.
“Techno? Can I come in?” Puffy’s familiar voice filled the air, muffled by both the door and Techno’s breathing. He couldn’t bring himself to respond to her, knowing he’d find a way to compare his voice to his father’s. “Techno? I just want to talk to you about what just happened, okay? I’m not mad.” Puffy’s voice contained no venom or anger, despite what he had done. If someone else hit Wilbur, he wouldn’t afford them the luxury of patience. Or kindness. Techno should respond to her, he should be counting his blessings that she’s willing to be reasonable. He wouldn’t expect it from home. And yet, he held his tongue. Because it was easier. Because despite the mask he had created for himself, Technoblade was a coward.

Puffy sighed, tracing the door panel with her finger. She knew Techno wasn’t going to open the door for her. She bit her lip, racking her brain, trying to think of how to convince him to let her in.
“I heard noises, is everything okay?” Puffy was startled by the quiet voice behind her, she turned around to see Ranboo staring down at her. It was like they had just appeared. He had a strange skill of being able to sneak up on people unintentionally. She had looked into those eyes for over 12 years, since the day she adopted them, but it never got any less unsettling. They were mesmerising, yet uncomfortable to stare into. It was like he was able to look into her soul. 

“Everything is fine, Ran. Techno is just in there.” Puffy replied, keeping it simple.
“What’s wrong with him?” He asked, knowing there was more to it. Puffy pursed her lips, knowing she’d have to tell him.
“Wilbur and Techno had a little argument, and Techno locked himself in there.” She replied, watching Ranboo’s face morph into concern.
“Where’s Wilbur?”
“He’s downstairs with Phil, he’s a bit upset but I’m trying to sort it out. Techno won’t come out.” Ranboo noticed her frustration. He had to help somehow.
“Do you think he’d come out if I helped?”
“You could try.” She replied, stepping back from the door to let him speak. Ranboo nodded, thinking for a moment.
“Techno? It’s me, Ranboo.”
Techno wiped his eyes, freezing when he heard a new voice. Ranboo waited patiently for a response, continuing when they got none. “I know you’re scared. I’ve gotten into arguments with Tubbo before where I was fully convinced that he’d never talk to me again. But he always did. But it’s not easy, okay? You have to come out of there and communicate. I don’t know what you argued about, or what was said, but it can’t be anything that a mature conversation won’t fix. You can’t hide in there forever, so you might as well resolve this quickly before you’re both old and bitter. Come out.” Ranboo stepped back from the door, looking over to Puffy for approval. She smiled weakly, giving him a thumbs up. They both waited silently, hoping that Ranboo had gotten through to Techno.

Techno pressed his palms against his eyes, trying to keep tears from running down his cheeks. Ranboo was right, he couldn’t just sit in here wallowing in his own sadness. He needed to apologise to Wilbur. He stood up as quietly as he could, twisting the lock on the door and pushing it open. His red rimmed, puffy eyes met Puffy and Ranboo’s. Neither looked angry like he expected.
“Thank you." He whispered, brushing past them both. He had one thing on his mind, and that was apologising. 

Techno wrapped his hand around the doorknob of the living room, hesitating. He would fully understand if Wilbur wasn't willing to talk to him, but he couldn't lie to himself and say it wouldn't hurt. He eventually willed himself to open the door and face the consequences of his actions. Wilbur and Phil both looked up at him, wide eyed. Wilbur looked slightly less delirious than before, but there was an unavoidable hand shaped mark on his cheek. Techno winced, wishing he wasn't the stronger of the two. 

"Wilbur I um- I wanted to…" He trailed off, knowing he wouldn't be able to speak his mind with Phil sitting there. "Phil, could you give us a moment?" He asked, hoping Phil would oblige. Phil gave Wilbur a look, silently asking him if he was okay with him leaving. Wilbur nodded in response, and Phil stood up to leave with a nod. Techno watched him leave, his eyes trailing along until the door was shut. He then turned to Wilbur anxiously. The brunette was looking at him warily, but the fear was gone. 

"I wanted to apologise." He mumbled, avoiding eye contact.

"So did I." Wilbur replied, rubbing his cheek. Techno's eyes widened. 

"W-why?" He asked, confused. Wilbur gave him a look, like it should have been obvious. 

"I was a dick." He said bluntly, pausing for a moment. "You're allowed to cry just as much as I am. It was fucked up of me to act like you shouldn't. It was like something Dad would say." Techno could see Wilbur physically wince while he spoke of their father. 

"But you were-"

"Being delirious isn't an excuse." Wilbur cut in, knowing what Techno would say. "You don't have to excuse me, I know I was awful." Wilbur started fidgeting with the strings on his hoodie. "And you don't need to apologise. I needed correcting." Techno was shocked out of his guilt the moment those words left Wilbur’s mouth.

" Wilbur. " His tone was murderous, making Wilbur look up in surprise. He wasn't even aware of what he'd just said. "Don't fucking say that. Things aren't like that anymore, do you hear me? We don't need to be in pain to learn anymore. I need to apologise. Of course I fucking do. There is no reason for me to ever hurt anyone. Do you understand? You do not need to hurt ever again." 

Wilbur didn't say a word, letting silence settle in the room. Techno was waiting for a response, for any kind of indication that Wilbur understood. 

"...but how else will I learn?" Was Wilbur’s quiet response. Techno abruptly stood up, pacing around the room with his palms pressed against the back of his head. He sighed loudly, his frustration evident. 

"For fucks sake, Wilbur! Did we escape for no fucking reason? Have you learned anything at all? " He yelled, because he had no other ways of releasing his frustration. Wilbur’s eyes widened, his lips trembling. 

"Techn-"

"Did you not take in anything that Phil has been telling you? Do you not fucking know that you're worthy of love, you fucking idiot ?" Techno’s anger was fading, he just needed Wilbur to understand. 

"I'm sorr-" 

" Don’t. " Techno hissed almost immediately. He paused, sighing deeply. "I'm not really mad." He muttered, taking deep breaths. "I'm sorry for yelling. I just need you to get it. You don't need to be in pain to learn valuable lessons. We can talk to each other, okay?" 

There were a few beats of silence, broken up only by Techno trying to steady his breathing. 

"Okay." Wilbur eventually replied, the ghost of a smile on his face. "I get you."

"Sorry for calling you a fucking idiot." 

Wilbur smiled weakly. "It's okay. I've heard worse." 

Phil re-entered the room a few minutes later to see the twins curled up on the sofa bed, Wilbur fast asleep and Techno only half awake. It was safe to say they had made amends. The responsible part of Phil wanted to tell Techno to leave in case he got sick too, but the overwhelming majority of his brain was telling him to leave them be. If Techno got sick they would deal with it. For now, he would let them sleep.

Chapter Text

The living room was left unbothered for the rest of the day, the boys fast asleep on the sofa bed. Tommy ended up playing mario kart with Ranboo and Tubbo, deciding that constantly worrying about Wilbur wouldn't do any good. Phil had opened the door of the living room several times to check on the twins, noticing every time that Wilbur’s eyes would flicker open briefly, and close again once he saw who it was. He was a worryingly light sleeper. Later on in the evening, Phil tried to gently shake Wilbur awake. His head immediately shot up, and he sucked in a frightened breath, shrinking into the blankets.

"I'm sorry-" He blurted out instinctively, covering his head. Phil didn't think he'd ever get used to the heartbreak he felt when Wilbur panicked like this.

"Hey moondrop, it's just me mate." He whispered, his voice soft and gentle. Wilbur looked up, blinking a few times as he tried to wake himself up. He looked around the room anxiously, his demeanour immediately calming when he saw Techno beside him. 

"Hello Phil." He eventually whispered back, smiling weakly. 

"Hiya mate, how are you feeling? Still sick?" Wilbur furrowed his brow, unsure of how to articulate it. "Out of ten?" Phil added after a moment. 

"...a five?" He looked up at Phil like he was worried about being wrong. Phil grimaced, and Wilbur mistook his worry for disappointment. "I mean- not- not really. A one. I'm okay." He forced a smile, hoping Phil would be happy with him. Phil’s frown only deepened. 

"You can tell the truth, moondrop. I'm not going to be mad." Phil assured him. 

a test? 

"Uh…" Wilbur hesitated for a few moments, unsure what the right answer was. "I. Don't know." He mumbled, already overwhelmed. Phil nodded patiently. 

"Okay. That's okay. Better or worse than yesterday?" Phil already knew the answer, considering Wilbur didn't seem very delirious. 

"Better?" Wilbur seemed bewildered by the questions, like he was unsure why Phil cared. Phil nodded with a smile. 

"Thanks for telling me, mate. Do you think you could wake Techno up? We have to go home. We can't live at Puffy’s house forever." Wilbur nodded, turning to nudge his twin, who was fast asleep. How he was able to sleep so deeply, Wilbur would never know. 

"Techie, wake up." Wilbur nagged, tapping him repeatedly on the shoulder. Techno grunted in his sleep, pulling the blanket over his head. Wilbur tutted, continuing to tap him, more aggressive this time. "Technooo… wakey." 

Techno’s eyes flickered open, but he ignored Wilbur. He would rather die than get up. 

"Don't make me drag you." Wilbur warned, earning a drowsy giggle from Techno. 

"I'd like to see you try, Mr muscular." He grumbled, still half asleep. Wilbur huffed, trying to pull Techno’s arm and failing miserably. 

"Bitch."

"Weak." 

"Get UP!" Wilbur complained, trying to drag Techno’s arm once again. Techno sat up with a sigh, glaring at everything. If he had to be awake he wanted the world to know that he wasn't happy about it. Wilbur offered Techno a mini round of applause for his hard work. Wilbur looked over to Phil, seeing that he was watching this unfold with an amused grin.

"That was entertaining." He mused, a smile tracing his lips.

"You've seen nothing, old man." Techno mumbled, not awake enough to have a filter. Wilbur slammed his hand over Techno’s mouth, giving him a murderous look. 

" Techno. You can't just-" Wilbur trailed off, his eyes darting to watch Phil's expression carefully. Phil’s eyes widened, and then he burst out laughing. It was Wilbur’s turn to be surprised. 

"It's nice to be insulted for a change." Phil joked, smiling lightheartedly. Wilbur looked at Phil in surprise for a moment, a lopsided smile plastered on his face. Phil was so different from other adults. Wilbur was glad. 

"Thank you for looking after them, Puff." Phil thanked her, lingering outside once the twins and Tommy had gotten into the car. "I really fucking appreciate the help. I don't know how I'd be able to deal with all of this if I didn't have you around." Puffy smiled, brushing off the praise with a flick of her arm. 

"It's nothing, Phil. You always helped me out when I first adopted Ran. It's the least I could do. Just get those kiddos home, and make sure Wilbur stays wrapped up and cosy." Phil nodded, pulling her in for a warm hug. 

"I'll let you know when I get the court date. They emailed me saying it would be within the next two months, but I don't want to freak the boys out just yet." 

Puffy bit her lip. 

"Is that too soon? I mean, you've seen Wilbur. He can't even say the man's name without panicking. How is he meant to look him in the eyes? To watch him lie to his face? I just- I wish they didn't have to." She sighed, looking over to the car. Wilbur was wrapped up in one of Phil's oversized hoodies, smiling tiredly at Tommy, who was rambling about something passionately. "I wish they could be kids." 

"I know, Puff. But as soon as this is all over, I'm going to make sure those kids have the best lives. Childhood won't end at 18 for them, I'll make sure of it. They'll get the lives they should have had." Phil furrowed his brow, wiping his eyes as tears started to brim. Puffy frowned, her eyes immediately started to water once Phil's did. 

"I know you will." She whispered, patting his arm. "I couldn't think of any better parent for them." 

"I'm glad I met them when I did. It fucking terrifies me to think of what life would be like for them if I didn't." His voice was uneven, tears threatening to flow like a burst dam. Puffy sighed shakily, and she forced a strong smile. 

"Let's not think about that, yeah? They're with you now, and they're safe." Phil nodded, opening his mouth to speak before they were interrupted by multiple beeps from his car. His head shot over to Tommy, who was glaring at him. Phil glared back, gesturing to Wilbur, who was covering his ears from the noise of the beeps. Tommy immediately took his hand off of the horn, smiling apologetically. "Sorry!" He mouthed, making Phil laugh tiredly. He turned back to Puffy. 

"Right Puff. I'll talk to you soon, okay?" Puffy nodded, waving to Techno and Wilbur. 

"Stay safe, Phil." 

Wilbur spent the duration of the car ride home fast asleep, despite having slept all day. Phil had told Techno to try and get some sleep too, but he couldn't. He was too worried about Wilbur to even try. He still looked so pale and sick, even if he wasn't delirious anymore. If Wilbur woke up, Techno wanted to be right there beside him. Tommy had also managed to doze off in the passenger seat, cooing quietly. Techno would never understand how someone could be so peaceful. 

"Is Wilbur doing alright back there, mate?" Phil asked, turning into the neighbourhood about twenty minutes away from theirs. Techno looked back over to Wilbur, seeing that his brows were furrowed slightly. please don't have a nightmare. if you scream i'm trapped here. 

"He looks fine." Techno replied bluntly, hugging his knees to his chest. Phil noticed it from the rearview mirror, and frowned. 

"Are you alright, mate? You look a bit stressed." He asked gently, immediately seeing Techno’s eye twitch. He nodded, his lips pursed. "You sure? Do you want me to pull over so you can get water or something?" Techno shook his head, making Phil sigh. "Alright, let me know if you want me to stop, okay?" 

"...okay." 

"Wilbur, we're back. Wake up." Techno nudged him gently, trying to wake him up without frightening him. Wilbur’s eyes flickered open, and his face immediately scrunched up in pain. 

"Headache." He mumbled, squeezing his eyes shut. "Everything is too bright." Techno grimaced. 

"Phil, Wilbur has a headache." Phil walked back over to the car from inside the house. He had just been carrying a sleeping Tommy to bed. 

"Shit. How bad is it, moondrop?" He asked quietly. 

"Like my head is exploding." He replied almost immediately, which worried Phil. Wilbur usually tried to downplay his ailments a lot, so it must be painful.

"Can you see properly?" 

"N-no. Everything is way too bright." He pressed his hands into his head, trying to make the pain stop. 

"Sounds like a migraine, mate." Phil replied, sighing. He knew Wilbur hated taking any kind of pill, so painkillers were off the cards. 

"I don't like it." He whispered, scrunching up his face in pain. Techno bit his lip, knowing he couldn't do anything to help. 

"Can you walk, moondrop?" Phil asked gently. "If you can't, that's alright." Wilbur nodded shakily, pulling himself out of the car and onto his feet. He walked a few steps, and like Bambi, he immediately slid onto the floor. Techno caught him before he could skid across the gravel, and pulled him up. 

"I can carry you, Will. It's okay." He insisted, and Wilbur tried to protest.

"Tech, I'm fine." He mumbled, his eyes still squeezed shut. Techno ignored him, lifting him up and slinging the brunette over his shoulder. 

"Are you sure you can carry him, mate? You look exhau-" Phil was cut off by Techno stumbling forward, almost falling onto the gravel and taking Wilbur with him. Phil grabbed Techno by the shoulder, steadying him. "Alright, that answers my question. I can carry Wilbur inside." He said patiently. "You just go upstairs and get some rest." 

"I just got really lightheaded all of a sudden, I don't-" Techno was frowning, like he was disappointed in himself. 

"That's what happens when you overexert yourself, mate. It happens to everyone, don't worry." Techno nodded after a moment, but his expression hadn't changed. He let Phil take Wilbur, who was in too much pain to acknowledge anything, from his arms. 

"We'll make your room nice and dark, hopefully that will help a bit." Phil told him as he carried him inside. Wilbur gave a weak thumbs up, not at all in the mood to talk. 

Wilbur woke up with something ice cold pressed against his forehead in a pitch black room. He cringed at the texture of whatever was on his head, pulling it off roughly and sitting up. He could still feel it, he rubbed his head, desperately trying to get it off. Whatever it was.

blood . 

Wilbur shook his head, trying to block out that thought. can't be blood.

  He waited patiently for his eyes to adjust to the dark so that he'd be able to see at least a little bit. He was able to make out the window after a moment. my room. 

His head hurt. where is everyone? 

He tried to get out of bed, immediately being hit with a wave of intense dizziness the second he tried. He slid back under the bed covers, pressing his pillow into his head. His head hurt a lot. He pulled out his phone to text Techno, but he immediately shut it off the second he turned it on. too bright. 

"Technooo?" He called out quietly, feeling his pulse thumping in his head. He didn't hear anyone moving. Techno hadn't heard him. He groaned quietly, knowing his head would explode if he had to yell. 

"Tech?" He called again, slightly louder. He winced as his head cried out in protest. This time, he heard moving in the hallway outside. The door opened a moment later, and Wilbur could barely make out the dark silhouette. 

"...Techno?" He asked anxiously. 

"It's Tommy. I heard you calling out for Techno. I can get him if you want." Tommy walked into the room, habitually going to turn on the light but stopping himself before he did. Wilbur shook his head. 

"No, it's okay. I just wanted someone in here. Just to make sure I wasn't on my own." Wilbur replied, his voice barely a whisper. Tommy nodded silently. 

"How's your head?" He asked after a moment, and Wilbur sighed. 

"It's okay. Just a bit sore." 

"A bit?" Wilbur could almost hear Tommy’s doubtful expression.

"A lot." He conceded, smiling dimly. "I'll be okay." 

"Do you need anything?" Tommy asked, his concern evident. "I've had migraines before and they're not fun at all." Wilbur shook his head. 

"No, it's okay. Your company is enough." He mumbled quietly, pressing his head into his pillow. Tommy blinked, surprised at the statement, a smile traced his lips. 

"Okay, Will."

"I'd like to go downstairs but my eyes hurt when it's not dark." He whispered, keeping his voice hushed. He seemed to wince when he got past a certain point. Tommy furrowed his brow, thinking for a moment. 

"I have sunglasses, maybe they would help?" He offered, and Wilbur nodded quietly.

"If that's okay." 

Wilbur walked into the living room with Tommy, feeling slightly embarrassed. Phil held back a smile, putting his book down. 

"Hiya mate." He greeted. "Did you sleep at all?" 

"A little bit, yeah. What was on my head? It was cold." i didn't like it. Phil looked confused for a second. 

"Oh! The migraine patch. It's a gel pad that keeps your head cold. It's meant to help with migraines." 

"Oh, okay." 

"Was it okay that I put it on?" He asked gently, and Wilbur immediately sunk into himself, getting overwhelmed quickly. Phil noticed. 

"No- it's okay. I just-" Wilbur trailed off, not wanting to dig himself into a hole. 

ungrateful .

Phil leaned forward, looking concerned. "It's alright mate, if you didn't like it that's okay. Just tell me what you didn't like so I can remember not to do it again, okay?" Wilbur nodded anxiously. 

"I didn't like the um, the feeling of it. The- the-"

"Texture?" Phil asked, and Wilbur nodded. 

"Yeah, the texture. It was awful." He cringed again just thinking about it. Phil grimaced apologetically. 

"I'm sorry moondrop. I'll keep that in mind in future." He replied, his voice soft and genuine. Wilbur smiled weakly, grateful for Phil's understanding nature, even if he felt he didn't deserve it. 

"Thank you Da-" Wilbur stopped himself, his eyes widening. "Phil." He blurted, his voice firm, like he was reminding himself. Phil pretended not to notice the slip up, but Wilbur saw the way his eyes widened. Slightly. 

"It's no problem, mate. It's the least I can do." He stood up. "I'll be back in a second." Phil mumbled as he left the room, already feeling himself tearing up. 

"I couldn't think of any better parent for them." 

He was hoping that Puffy was right. He would make sure she was.

Chapter Text

"Boys, what did you want for your birthdays? They're coming up soon." Phil asked at breakfast one morning. Wilbur took a small bite out of his toast, giving Phil a confused look. 

"It's soon? How soon?" Techno asked, just as confused as Wilbur. Phil smiled curiously.

"It's next Friday, mate." He replied, and Wilbur nearly choked on his toast. 

"It's what? " He looked off to the side, his brows furrowed like he was trying to add it up in his head. 

"Did you forget your birthday?" Tommy asked, giggling at the twins' confusion. 

"I mean- we never celebrated them, so." Wilbur mumbled, and the whimsy immediately drained from the room. Wilbur bit his lip, sensing the atmosphere change. "But we don't mind. It's fine." Wilbur didn't know any different. This happened a lot with supposed 'normal family things.' One of them would always admit to never having done it, and Phil and Tommy would get sad. Wilbur didn't need the pity. He didn't understand it. 

"Well, now I've got to organise an even better party, don't I?" Phil eventually said in an attempt to lighten the mood. Wilbur immediately panicked. that's money.

"No- no you don't need to- It's okay. We don't need anything." Techno cut in, looking just as worried as Wilbur. "We wouldn't want you to spend too much on us when we're just foster kids." It was that statement that made Phil's eyes widen. 

"Mate-" He began, not even sure where to start with that. "I would spend any amount on you two if it meant you were happy. And you're not foster kids to me. Not at all. It's okay if you both view me as a foster parent, because I am. You are both my sons. Just like Tommy is." Tommy nodded to affirm his point. "Don't ever think otherwise just because you arrived a little later on in life."

Wilbur took another small bite of his toast, staring at his plate to process what had just been said. 

"Does that mean I can-" call you my dad? Wilbur trailed off, not ready for that conversation. "Nevermind." He mumbled, avoiding eye contact with everyone at the table. 

"Alright mate. Anyway, so is there anything either of you want?" 

Wilbur’s eyes glazed over, his mind immediately drifting to his old guitar. He didn't really want it back, considering where it's been and the memories linked to it. But he would love to have a guitar again. He blinked, snapping back into reality after realising everyone was staring at him. 

"Oh. I um, I don't know." He was clearly lying, but Phil wouldn't push. He knew Techno would likely answer the same, so he sighed and stood up to clear the table. 

"You both can have a think about it and I'll ask again in a few days, alright?" 

"Okay."

Wilbur and Techno were in the living room with Tommy, Wilbur finally having convinced Techno to play stardew valley with them. 

"Tech, I think we have enough potato crops. Maybe plant something else." Wilbur complained. "Carrots or something." 

"One acre of potatoes fed an entire family for 6 months in the 1800s. I'm making sure we don't have a famine." Techno uttered, planting even more potatoes in retaliation. 

"We have a shop. I don't think there are going to be any famines." Tommy replied, his voice laced with exasperation. 

"You never know." Techno was holding back a smile.

"We are not Ireland in 1845." Tommy hissed, pretending to be pissed, but he was smiling. 

"Maybe we are, you don't know the lore like I do."

"You played for the first time today. " 

"I just think potato farms are cool." Techno shrugged, and Tommy's face lit up. 

"...would you like to have a real potato farm?" Tommy asked slowly, like he was planning something. 

"Yeah, I would. Why do you ask?" Techno was squinting at Tommy suspiciously. 

"Oh, no reason. Just wondering." Tommy replied, biting back a smile. 

"Your potato debate is cool and all, but it is 1AM in game and we are all about to collapse. I am not paying Joja Mart to tuck us into bed like we're toddlers." Tommy broke into giggles. 

"You're funny, Will." He said with a grin, and Wilbur smiled sheepishly.  

"Save the compliments, we need to get back to the cabin." He mumbled after a moment, brushing off the compliment. 

"Alright, we'll do it your way. I, personally wanted to pay Joja Mart." Tommy replied sarcastically, earning a murderous look from Wilbur. 

"If you want money for crops other than potatoes, get your ass to bed." Wilbur said it so casually that Tommy burst out laughing. Wilbur couldn't help but feel a little proud. 

"Hey boys, do you want to come to Puffy’s with me? Just to help her clear out her attic." Phil asked, walking into the room to see Techno giggling malevolently as he filled up the whole screen with potato crops while Wilbur and Tommy tried to unplant them. "...or are you all busy?" Wilbur put his remote down, nodding. 

"Yeah, okay. I'd like to see Puffy." Techno and Tommy both agreed aswell. Phil smiled. 

"Thank you, we'll be going in ten minutes so wrap up-" Phil's eyes scanned the TV screen with an amused smile. "Wrap up whatever that is in the next ten minutes." 

"Uhuh, yeah, okay." Tommy mumbled, barely listening. Phil laughed fondly, shaking his head. 

Wilbur pressed his head against the car window, trying to think of the cheapest possible present that Phil would be happy with buying him. The thought of Phil spending money on him made him ill. Phil could be spending it on something actually important. 

"You look like you're thinking about something really profound." Tommy commented, an amused smile tracing his lips. Wilbur looked away sheepishly, shaking his head. 

"Nothing that important." He replied, feeling embarrassed. He wasn't really sure why. 

"Probably thinking about poetry or some shit." Tommy joked, faking a spiteful tone and making Wilbur giggle. 

"Yeah, I love thinking about Edgar Allen Poe on the way to clean people's attics." 

"I bet you do, nerd." Tommy broke into a giggle. Phil cleared his throat comically loudly, and the two boys noticed that the car had stopped. 

"We're here, boys." Phil told them, smiling.

"Oops." Tommy mumbled, stepping out of the car. Wilbur followed him out, beaming when he saw Puffy at the door waving at them. He waved back, making his way over to the house. 

"Thank you all for coming to help. We'll get it cleared out in no time with all of this help." 

"It's no problem Puff, we're happy to help." Phil replied with a kind smile. 

"Okay! There are boxes by the attic stairs, fill 'em all up with anything and everything you find." Tommy and Phil nodded, walking into the house and up the stairs. She lingered behind for a moment with Wilbur and Techno. "It's good to see you both." She said sincerely. "I hope you're both doing better." Wilbur looked up at her in surprise and Techno habitually blurted out a thank you. Puffy noticed Wilbur’s bewilderment. "I just mean, I know seeing him again was really difficult. So I just hope you're both doing a bit better now." 

"...oh, uh, yeah. Things are a bit better." Wilbur replied slowly, hoping that was the answer she was looking for. Puffy smiled sadly, knowing Wilbur still hadn't realised how much people cared about him. 

"I had no idea there was this much shit up here." Ranboo complained, throwing another box down to Tubbo, who was at the bottom of the steps. 

"There are like 12 years worth of Christmas decorations up here." Puffy replied. "I'm a bit too sentimental." 

"A bit? " Tubbo yelled from the bottom of the ladder, making Puffy chuckle quietly. Wilbur was trying to pry a huge box from the corner all on his own, not wanting to ask for help. Techno noticed his struggle, walking over and pulling the box forward from the other side. 

"You'll pull a muscle if you take that down by yourself." He scolded, making Wilbur frown. 

"I'm fine." He mumbled, not wanting to be coddled. Techno ignored him, pulling the box along steadily. Wilbur sighed, stepping back and letting Techno do it himself. He turned around, looking for anything else he could take down without needing help. There was a box that looked light enough to carry, so he went to pick it up. His breath immediately caught in his throat when he heard the noise it made. That was a guitar, without a doubt. He looked around anxiously, no one was looking at him. He knelt down tentatively, opening the box. Just one look, and he'd keep going. Just a peek. He moved the flaps aside, peering into the box. He had to hold in a sharp breath. That was the most beautiful guitar he had ever seen. Intricate carvings in the wood, it was perfectly in tune. It was everything he wanted and more.

i need it.

Wilbur shook his head mutely, knowing it was too beautiful to ever be his. 

"Wilbur mate, could you help me with this box?" Phil asked idly, pushing the box nearer to the attic ladder. Wilbur didn't hear Phil, too entrapped in his infatuation with the guitar. Phil looked up in confusion when he didn't get an answer. "Wilbur?" He called again, quieter. He walked closer to Wilbur, trying to see what he was looking at. His eyes were hyper-focused on whatever was in that box. He smiled idly when he saw what it was. 

"You like the guitar, do you mate?" He asked gently, making Wilbur jump. He snapped out of his trance, looking up at Phil anxiously. 

"Sorry- I was just looking. I wasn't going to- sorry." He abruptly placed the flaps back over the box, standing up and stepping back nervously. 

"Mate-" Phil began, but Wilbur was already rambling. 

"I shouldn't have-"

"Moondrop." Phil repeated, more firm this time. Wilbur stopped talking immediately. "Wilbur, it's alright. Do you like the guitar?" 

Wilbur nodded shakily, his eyes darting back down to the box. 

"Y-yeah. A little." He admitted, trying to downplay it. 

more than anything else.

Phil nodded slowly, like he was mentally noting it. 

"Okay." He replied simply, implying nothing. He knew better than to push and overwhelm Wilbur for no reason. "So can you help me with this box?" He gestured to the box in the middle of the room with a patient smile. Wilbur nodded his head, humming quietly. 

"Thanks mate." 

"It's okay." 

The others were mostly preparing for the twins' birthday behind the scenes, trying to keep it mostly a surprise. He knew the boys wouldn't want any fuss, so they were trying to keep that in mind. Tommy was having a hard time with that, though. He wanted it to be as extra as possible. 

"They need this." He insisted, sweeping multiple packets of bunting off of the shelves and into their trolley. He was out with Puffy buying things for the party while Phil stayed with Wilbur and Techno. 

"I don't think they do, Tommy. That's enough bunting to cover the perimeter of the house." Puffy replied with a grin, taking out most of the bunting. Tommy frowned. 

"What if I want the whole house to be covered in bunting? The neighbourhood needs to know." 

"Tommy, we need to keep in mind that the boys are both timid. They're not going to like a big fuss. We have to keep it subtle, but also make sure they know how much we care. Do you get me?" 

"But-" 

"Tommy." Puffy cut in, her eyebrows raised. Tommy scowled for a moment, but eventually nodded. Puffy nodded back with a smile, turning back to the shelves. "Now, what we do need is candles for the cake." 

"I will find them!" Tommy called, already halfway down the aisle. Puffy smiled fondly. She needed to find wrapping paper. She wasn't sure how to go about wrapping Wilbur’s gift, and Techno’s gift wasn't even wrappable. She made a mental note to not leave every single preparation until two days before their birthday. At least Tommy was having fun. 

Wilbur noticed Phil wouldn't leave his phone out of his sight all day, jumping anxiously whenever it buzzed. Like he was waiting for something. Wilbur didn't know what, but it seemed to be bothering him. When Puffy called him from the supermarket, he'd never seen Phil that scared for that split second. He saw a bit of himself reflected in Phil's eyes for just a moment. 

"Jesus, Puff. I told you to text me. You know I'm waiting for-" Phil's eyes flickered over to Wilbur for a second.

what.

"You know I'm waiting for the call." He mumbled after a beat of silence. He listened intently for a moment as Puffy spoke, sprinkling in "mhm" s and "yeah" s every few seconds. 

"Just make sure to keep it somewhat lowkey, alright? I don't want to ruin anything." 

what are they talking about? 

"Okay, thanks Puff. I'll talk to you later. Don't give Tom any caffeine or sugar, he seems pretty wired from what you've told me." Phil chuckled quietly, hanging up. He turned to Wilbur, seeing his visible confusion. "Just talking to Puffy about dinner. She's getting some for us with Tommy." He explained, and Wilbur nodded slowly. 

"What phone call are you waiting for?" He asked quietly, wincing slightly. He was painfully curious, but he was afraid that he'd overstepped. Phil hesitated. He could lie, and it would be much easier. But it would also be a complete insult to the trust he had built up over the last couple of weeks with Wilbur. He wasn't going to throw it away. 

"I can't… tell you." He replied slowly, seeing Wilbur's confusion heighten tenfold. He couldn't ruin his birthday. He just couldn't. "I'm sorry. But I need you to trust me. It's okay if you don't, you can tell me and I'll tell you right now. But I am telling you that it's better that you don't know for now, okay? Do you trust me?" 

Wilbur’s eye twitched. 

"You trust me, don't you? I'm doing all of this to make you better. I'm doing this for you. So don't throw it all away." 

"I know you trust me. You just don't understand that this is for your own good." 

Wilbur held back a flinch, not wanting Phil to worry. Phil’s eyes narrowed slightly, like he had noticed but wasn't sure.

"Do you trust me?" 

"I… don't." He blurted, immediately regretting it. Phil wasn't the same as him. "Don't know. I don't know." 

The silence was painful. 

"That's alright, moondrop. Can you just tell me why?" Phil sounded like he was trying to hide his hurt.

"You haven't done anything wrong, it's just-" Wilbur wasn't even fully sure how to word it. "I just- I don't know how to trust anyone. I don't really know what it's meant to be. He always just told me that I trusted him. And I guess I… did? I don't know if I did." 

The silence returned like an unwelcome friend. 

"I understand. Do you want me to tell you what trust feels like?" Phil asked, his voice as patient as it always was. 

"Yes… please." Wilbur replied. Phil paused for a moment, thinking of how to word it.

"If you were at the edge of a cliff, and I was holding you up, would you expect me to help you up, or let you go?"

"You would help me up." Wilbur replied, not taking too long to answer. Phil nodded. 

"Okay. If you were in trouble, would you call me to help without worrying about how I'd react?" Wilbur had to think about this one. 

"I would call you. But I think I would still worry. But I'm pretty sure you would help." He replied after a moment. Phil nodded. 

"Now. If I was keeping something from you, for a good reason. Would you believe me if I told you it was better to wait?" 

"...I- I guess I would." Wilbur eventually replied. "Does that mean I trust you?" He asked quietly. 

"Do you think you do? Don't let anything I just said influence what you say, alright moondrop?" 

"I-" Wilbur paused, making sure he was fully sure of himself. "I do. I trust you, Phil." He managed to force an ounce of conviction into his voice. Phil smiled faintly.

"I'll make sure to keep it that way." He assured him. "That's something else to tell you. Trust can be taken away. If you don't trust me, or anyone, you're allowed to take that away. You don't owe anyone your trust. It's precious." 

"Thank you." 

"Don't thank me, mate. You deserve the opportunity to unlearn everything that man taught you. It's all bullshit." Phil's eye contact with Wilbur was piercing, and Wilbur knew he meant every word of what he was saying. 

"...can we hug?" Wilbur asked timidly, breaking the silence that had settled. Phil's face crumbled, and he nodded. 

"Of course, moondrop. Of course." Phil wrapped Wilbur up in a tight hug, making sure he felt safe. Whatever was ahead of them, they were ready. 

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY!" Tommy screeched, leaping onto Wilbur's bed two days later. Wilbur’s head shot up, his eyes panicked. 

"W-wuh? What's happening?" He asked sharply, rubbing his eyes. Tommy tutted. 

"It's our birthday." Techno grumbled, rubbing his eyes at the doorway. "I don't see why I had to be woken up for this news." 

" Where is your JOY, Technoblade? Birthdays are meant to be full of joyous whimsy!" 

"I don't even know what you're saying." Techno replied, earning a tired giggle from Wilbur. Tommy rolled his eyes, falling backwards onto Wilbur's bed dramatically. 

"Just get up! Today is meant to be fun." He insisted, trying to pull the blankets away from Wilbur. Wilbur yelped in protest, grabbing the blankets and sinking further into his mattress. 

"Can't my birthday present just be more sleep?" He growled, folding his pillow over his head. 

" God, you're both so boring. " Tommy complained. 

"Boring but well rested." Wilbur shot back, his voice muffled by his pillow. 

"Wilbur's got a point." Techno chimed in, making Tommy groan. 

"I am not leaving until you get up." 

"I've slept through worse." Wilbur muttered, and the lightheartedness drained from the room. Techno bit his lip, sucking in a breath.

"...I made it sad again." He whispered after a minute of silence. "I'm gonna get up now." 

As they walked downstairs for breakfast, Wilbur noticed that the living room door was shut and locked. 

odd.  

It was usually always open and welcoming, so why was it different today? It was probably nothing. They walked into the kitchen, and Phil greeted them with a wide smile. 

"Morning boys! Happy birthday!" He greeted, and Tommy cheered. Wilbur smiled sheepishly while Techno just raised an eyebrow. 

"Thanks Phil." He responded quietly, pulling out his chair and sitting down. 

"What would you like for breakfast? You can have anything at all." He asked both of them. 

"Pancakes." Techno had an immediate answer, but Wilbur took a bit longer.

"Okay, pancakes for Techno. What about you, Will?" Phil smiled patiently. 

"I'll just have the same." He mumbled, deciding that was the easiest option. Phil looked at him for a moment, before turning back to the frying pan. The kitchen stayed in complete silence while Phil cooked. Techno didn't care at all about his birthday and Wilbur wasn't sure how he was supposed to act. Are people normally excited? Because he wasn't. It was just another day, but he was considered older by the rest of the world. Why did one day determine that? Birthdays were just one year closer to adulthood, something he wouldn't be able to handle. One year until they had to leave Phil, because obviously he wasn't going to keep them around forever. 

was he? 

He was snapped out of his thoughts by the plate of pancakes being placed in front of him. 

"You alright, mate? You look a bit down." Phil asked, his head tilted with concern. Wilbur blinked in confusion, nodding his head. 

"Yeah! I'm fine, just thinking." He replied, picking up his fork awkwardly. He started eating slowly, bite by bite. Just like Phil had taught him. Techno leaned forward, trying to make eye contact to check if he was okay. 

"You okay?" He mouthed, holding out his hand. Wilbur nodded again, patting Techno’s hand and pushing it away. 

"I'm okay." Wilbur mouthed back, hopefully easing Techno’s concern. Techno frowned, scanning Wilbur’s expression before going back to eating. 

"How does it feel to be seventeen, Will?" Tommy asked in-between bites of his pancake. Wilbur tilted his head. 

"The same, I suppose. I don't feel any different." He didn't want to feel any different. "Am I meant to feel different?" 

"Not really." Tommy replied, thinking. "It's just something people ask, I suppose. Like small talk." 

hate small talk. 

"Oh, okay." The room fell back into a comfortable silence while everyone ate. Wilbur just wanted this day to be over. 

Phil stood up quietly and cleared his throat once everyone had finished eating. 

"Okay boys, I have a little surprise for you both in the living room. I got you both a little present, but please don't worry about the money. You both deserve to be happy and I'm hoping these presents will help with that." Wilbur’s stomach somersaulted with anxiety. He exchanged a nervous look with Techno, who looked equally as anxious. But Phil continued. "Now, this is important. There's a little party in there. There are people in there that want to celebrate with us, they're all people that you know, so it's nothing to be afraid of. But if you're not comfortable with this, we can call it off right now. Is that okay?" Phil's face was deadly serious. Wilbur knew that he trusted Phil, so he was going to put it to the test. He looked at Techno, subtly nodding to him. Techno hesitated for a second, and nodded back. 

"Alright." Techno responded for both of them. Phil beamed, and opened the door. 

Wilbur’s eyes widened when he saw who was in the room. 

FRIENDS!

"SHELBY! JAMES!" He shrieked, diving into a group hug, giggling with more joy than Phil had ever heard.

"WILBUR!" They both screeched back, holding onto him like he would disappear if they let go. Shelby had tears in her eyes.

 "Oh my god, you're here!" He closed his eyes and let his friends hug him. Shelby pulled out of the hug, holding him by his shoulders. 

"Of course we're here! Jesus christ Wilbur!" She was scolding him but she didn't really mean it. "We wouldn't miss this for the world." 

"I missed you so much." James added quietly, more genuine than he'd be with anyone else. "I'm so glad you're okay." 

Wilbur blinked back tears, his lips trembling. 

"I missed you both too." He managed to whisper back without bursting into tears. Shelby turned to Techno, who was beaming at Wilbur, so glad to see him happy. She walked forward and wrapped him up in a hug. His eyes widened, and his body stiffened before he melted into the hug. 

"It's great to see you too, Techno." She whispered. Techno bit the inside of his cheek, trying to keep tears at bay. 

"Thank you, Shelby." He whispered back. James gave him a solemn nod, and that meant a lot. Techno knew that. 

Wilbur and Techno both turned around to look at everyone else. It was just Puffy, Tubbo and Ranboo, but this was enough. This was all they'd ever need. 

"Happy birthday, boys." Puffy smiled, passing them both their wrapped gifts. 

"Oh- you didn't have to-" Wilbur began trying to give the box back, but Puffy shushed him almost immediately. 

"I wanted to. So just please enjoy it." She cut in, pushing the box back into his arms. "It's only something small." She turned to Techno, who was holding his box like it had personally offended him. "Come on, Techno. You can open it." She had an amused smile on her face. Wilbur slowly unwrapped and opened his gift first. 

"Oh!" He smiled, feeling slightly confused. It was a 10 pack of metal guitar picks and a capo. Shelby peered into the box. 

"What is it?- ooooohh! I didn't know you still had a guitar!" Wilbur’s cheeks reddened. 

"I-" He began, but Phil stepped forward with a grin. 

"Maybe you should open your main gift, mate." He suggested idly. Wilbur’s stomach dropped. He turned around to the larger wrapped present that was laying across the couch. His breath caught in his throat. 

"I- I can't open that." He replied, his voice clear as ice. "I can't." 

it's more than i'll ever deserve.

Techno put his gift down for a moment, walking over to Wilbur's side. He held out his hand, taking Wilbur’s and tapping out that familiar rhythm. 

"You can." He replied, his voice resolute, like Wilbur didn't have a choice in the matter. 

"Go on, Will." James encouraged, patting him gently on the shoulder. "Whatever gift is in there, you deserve every bit of it." 

do i?

"Come on, Wilbur!" Shelby cheered. James always used to call her 'their personal cheerleader', and Wilbur supposed he was right. Wilbur walked over to the present silently. He looked behind him to see everyone in the room watching with near fascination. He stuck his nail into the wrapping paper, making that first tear. Almost as soon as he did, he burst into tears. 

It was that beautiful guitar from Puffy’s attic. The most beautiful guitar he'd ever seen. 

Instantly, Shelby, James and Techno were all by his side, pulling him into a tight hug. Wilbur looked up, blinking the tears away to meet Phil's gaze. Phil was smiling at him with a type of pride he had never seen. "Thank you." He mouthed, so only Phil could see. Phil nodded, holding back tears of his own. 

After a few minutes of pure emotion, Wilbur sat up with a weak smile on his face. 

"It's your turn now, Techie. Open your gifts." He urged, and he rest of the room simultaneously nodded. Techno sighed loudly, pretending to be annoyed. He still had a small smile painted on his face. He opened up Puffy’s gift first, which was even more confusing than Wilbur’s gift from Puffy. It was an engraved garden trowel with his name on it, and a message saying Use it wisely - Puffy. 

He looked up in confusion, trying not to seem ungrateful. Puffy was giggling to herself. 

"Open your other gift, mate." Phil told him, trying to hold back his own laughter at the look of sheer bewilderment on Techno’s face. Techno picked up the other gift, which was even smaller than the box the trowel was in. He opened it up, and the only thing it had was a small piece of paper.

"What-" He began, positive that this was a joke. 

"Turn the paper around, mate." 

Techno turned around the paper, seeing there was a note. Check the back garden. Wilbur peered around Techno’s shoulder to read it, and immediately grabbed Techno’s hand. "C'mon, let's go check!" 

The rest of the party followed, with Phil, Tommy and Puffy all grinning. 

Techno led the way out into the back garden, his breath catching in his throat when he saw what was there. Wilbur gasped from behind him, grabbing Techno’s hand and dragging him over. 

"A potato farm." Techno said quietly, his voice laced with more joy than Wilbur had ever heard. It was hard to tell when Techno was happy, and Wilbur could tell. 

"Do you like it, mate? It's all yours. And it's not just that, look inside the handle of the trowel." Phil's smile was infectious, and Wilbur was practically jumping with joy. Nothing made him happier than seeing Techno happy. Techno pulled two more notes out of the trowel, unfurling them. One of them was a handwritten note from Phil, This note means that you have full, unrestricted access to the kitchen. I know you like baking, so here you go! It will always be stocked with whatever you need. Go wild. 

Techno giggled quietly, looking up at Phil with a smile. 

"Thank you, Phil." He beamed, letting his cold demeanour slip completely. It didn't seem like much from the outside, but these gifts meant the world to Techno. 

"No problem, Techno mate." Phil replied, eternally glad that Techno was happy. Techno unfurled the other piece of paper, his eyes widening as he read it. It was a membership for a fencing club. His head snapped up to look at Phil. 

"How did you kn-" He started, but he saw Wilbur smiling evilly. 

"Wilbur told me- let it slip that you used to fence, so I thought you'd appreciate the chance to do it again." Phil explained. Techno shot Wilbur a murderous look, but he was still giggling. 

"I'm taking you fencing with me. This voucher is for two." Techno threatened lightheartedly, wiping the smile off of Wilbur's face immediately. 

"You're on." Wilbur replied, matching Techno’s murderous gaze with a grin. To anyone else, it looked like they were prepared to kill each other. 

"...How about some cake?" Phil suggested, making everyone cheer. 

"Who wants chocolate and who wants vanilla? I got both!" Phil was immediately hit with a wave of different responses. He laughed, holding out his hands. "One at a time! One at a time!" Phil asked each person one by one which cake they wanted, and walked out to the kitchen to cut the slices. A moment after he left, Phil's phone started to ring. He had left it on the table. Tommy grabbed it and ran over to give it to him, but Phil had already sprinted into the room, his face paler than before. Wilbur’s eyes widened. This must be the call that he was waiting for. 

please don't ruin everything please don't ruin everything please- 

Phil rushed out of the room to take the call, and Puffy followed him out, looking equally as worried. She turned around for a moment, forcing a smile. 

"We'll be back in just a second!" She said, sounding a little too cheery. Everyone at the table exchanged worried looks, but Wilbur was staring at the floor. He felt nauseous. 

"What the fuck was- bzzzt that about?" Tubbo was the first to break the silence that had fallen. Shelby was analysing Wilbur’s expression worriedly, and everyone else was staring at the table, unsure of what to say. 

"I have no idea." Tommy replied, biting his lip. "Hopefully nothing important." But Tommy knew it had to be. He'd never seen his father so pale. 

After a few minutes of agonising silence, Phil and Puffy returned. They were both deadly silent, and Phil was white as a sheet but trying to seem normal. Wilbur already felt like crying. Whatever was about to come out of Phil's mouth wasn't good news. Shelby linked her hand in his. She didn't know what this was about, but she knew Wilbur needed a hand to hold right now. 

"...Dad?" Tommy asked quietly, his voice weak. "W-what is it? What's wrong?" Phil closed his eyes, trying to gather the strength to speak. 

"We- we got the court date. We have two weeks." 

The silence that followed was more painful than anything Phil had ever endured. He watched the twins' faces morph into pure terror. Wilbur cupped his hands over his mouth, gagging and sprinting out of the room. 

"Wilbur!" Shelby called, running out after him. Techno had completely frozen, his lips starting to tremble until a single sob tore out of his throat. He tried to stand up, but his legs completely gave up on him from the sheer shock. Phil knelt down beside him, pulling him into a tight, secure hug as the teen wept louder than anything Phil had ever heard. 

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

Chapter Text

Phil sent everyone home almost immediately after they got the news, knowing the boys would need time to process the news. Techno was wrapped up in blankets in the living room, trembling. He was barely holding it together, if at all. Tommy was there to keep him company, not that Techno wanted any. Wilbur was missing, hiding somewhere in the house. Phil couldn't blame him. He couldn't blame either of them for their reactions. They were about to recount every single detail of their trauma in only two short weeks. Even he was terrified to testify. He knew for a fact that their father wasn't planning on pleading guilty. That man could say anything in that courtroom and the boys would have to just take it. The mere thought of it made Phil want to rip out his insides and sob. But he had to stay strong, for now. Phil peered into Wilbur's bedroom, seeing that the door was open, which was unusual for him. 

"Moondrop? Are you in here?" Phil asked, his voice as gentle as he could manage. He listened intently for any kind of noise. "Wilbur? It's okay, mate. I know you're scared." Phil was about to give up when he heard a quiet whimper from under the bed. His heart immediately snapped in two. "Oh, mate." He whispered, kneeling down to look under the bed. Wilbur’s wide, scared eyes were looking back at him. His entire face was red and blotchy from crying, and his chest was heaving up and down. "Wilbur, are you okay?" Phil asked quietly, stretching his hand out for Wilbur to take. Wilbur shuffled further under the bed, away from the outstretched hand, like some kind of stray cat. He shook his head. Phil didn't have the capacity to describe his anguish. All of their progress had been scattered, because of that fucking court case. 

"Can you come out?" He was pleading. Wilbur was clearly distant, he was holding eye contact with Phil, but he wasn't really there. His mind was somewhere else. Phil stood up, sighing miserably. He knew Wilbur wasn't going to come out anytime soon. After Phil closed the door, Wilbur tentatively rolled out from under the bed and locked his door. The click of the door brought him an ounce of peace, but he'd take any kind of feeling at all. Just not numbness again. He put the key in his wardrobe, slamming it shut with a little too much force. It mightn't have been the safest idea, but Wilbur needed to be alone.

"Where is he, Dad?" Tommy asked quietly when he saw Phil reenter the living room looking completely dejected. 

"He's hiding under his bed. He won't come out." Phil replied, not even bothering to mask his sorrow. Everyone in this room was miserable, and Phil wasn't the exception. 

"He used to do that every time." Techno whispered, not wanting or needing to elaborate. Phil wished he could block his ears. Wilbur’s quiet whimpers were getting louder and louder and Phil had no way to help him. 

"How do we help him?" Tommy asked, wincing every time Wilbur cried. 

"You can't." Techno replied bluntly, "You just have to wait." 

"Not even you can help?" Tommy pressed on, unable to bear the sounds for much longer. Techno shook his head. He was still trembling violently, with tears streaming down his cheeks. But his voice remained completely level. Tommy sighed shakily, trying to tune Wilbur out. 

"I wish it didn't have to be like this." Tommy whispered, holding in tears of his own. He didn't feel right crying when this wasn't about him. Not really. "Can they not see? Why do they need to go through this to prove their trauma is real, it's not fair!" Tommy was just voicing his frustrations, but he didn't seem to be aware of how each word was affecting Techno. 

stop talking. 

He didn't need constant reminders of everything he was about to endure. He needed everyone to be quiet.

"Are you okay, Techno?" Phil’s voice was warm and gentle, but it didn't make Techno feel comforted. Nothing really ever did. "Do you need anything?" 

"No." Techno replied sharply, not at all in the mood to fluff up his sentences. He grabbed one of the many blankets wrapped around him and pulled it over his head, effectively ending the conversation. Phil sighed, turning on the TV at a low volume to ease the uncomfortable silence that had settled. 

"I hope Wilbur will come out soon." Tommy mumbled, resting his head on the armchair of the couch. They were all exhausted, and Wilbur and Techno’s birthday wasn't even over yet. 

Wilbur woke up the next day, in a complete daze. He moved his head up in an attempt to sit up, immediately whacking it off of something above him. He whimpered in pain, grabbing his head in frightened confusion. He stretched his palm out to see what was above him. Wooden panels, like a bedframe.

i'm still under the bed. 

He rolled out from under the bed, shielding his eyes from the sudden light change. He was wracking his brain, trying to remember why he had slept under his bed in the first place. 

"We have two weeks." 

The realisation hit Wilbur like a tonne of bricks. He could already feel his chest tightening with panic. 

"W-where's-" He whispered to himself, looking for Techno. He was on the verge of hysteria and Techno wasn't here. He stumbled over to the door, turning the doorknob desperately, trying to open it and find his brother. He was already finding it hard to breathe.

it's not opening.

The door would not open. 

His attempts at getting out of his room were getting more and more panicked as he felt his chest tightening further and further. He started bashing on the door with every ounce of strength that he had, choked sobs escaping his throat with each slash.

it won't OPEN. 

"TECHNO!" He screeched, crumbling onto the floor in a heap, barely able to breathe. His bashing on the door was met by bashes from the other side. 

"Wilbur?" Techno’s panicked voice echoed through the door. "Wilbur? What's happening? Open the door." Wilbur heard Phil's worried murmurs from behind him. 

"T-Techno! I-I can't get out." He choked, his breaths becoming ragged. 

"Did you lock the door, mate?" Phil’s calm voice called through the door. Always the voice of reason. Wilbur found himself unable to answer. "Where's the key?" Phil pressed on, after receiving no answer. 

where is the key. 

"Wilbur. Breathe, okay?" Techno’s panic was noticeable in his tone, and it was not helping. "Do you remember where you put the key?" He was trying to keep his tone level, like he always had. He just couldn't.

"N-no." Wilbur called back, barely responsive, he was feeling lightheaded.

"Wilbur, stand back. I'm going to break open the door, okay?" Wilbur barely had the energy to respond, let alone move out of the way. He could see those familiar black spots dancing in his vision, but he couldn't remember why they were familiar. 

Until he felt his eyes roll into the back of his head. 

There was a loud crash, and something heavy fell onto Wilbur's stomach as he started to seize. He shrieked in pain,, his head rocking backwards. Techno let out a horrified screech, the kind no one in the room had ever heard before. He shoved the remnants of the broken door off of Wilbur, holding the brunette's head up with his palm. He knew the drill by now. 

"Phil- Phil, he's seizing." Techno croaked, wanting to hug Wilbur and tell him that he'd be okay. But he couldn't hug him yet. Phil had already started a timer on his phone, dropping it onto the floor and kneeling down beside Wilbur. 

"It's okay, moondrop. It'll all be okay." Phil's voice was uncertain. Wilbur had gone so long without a seizure, they were doing so well. "It's alright, I'm so sorry. It's okay." Phil was reassuring himself just as much as he was reassuring Wilbur. 

"Please come around, please." Techno whispered, abandoning his effort of holding in his emotions. If Wilbur went over five minutes and had to go back to the hospital, Techno didn't know what he was going to do. He couldn't stand hospitals. Those awful, sterilised buildings that only served to remind him of every single injury he'd ever endured. Every single time he'd had to hold it all in to keep Wilbur sane. Techno wasn't staying sane this time. Wilbur started to come around at around the four minute mark, and Techno could have cried from relief. He was already crying, so that box was certainly ticked. Once Wilbur regained enough awareness to look up, he immediately reached for Techno. Techno pulled him into a hug, his shoulders trembling as he cried into Wilbur's shoulder. He was so tired. 

Wilbur and Techno both spent the majority of the day silently listening to Tommy ramble about anything and everything while playing minecraft. Neither were in the mood to talk, and Tommy had a profound skill of being able to talk about anything and make it interesting. The twins were just glad they didn't have to speak. Wilbur periodically dozed off with his head resting on Techno’s shoulder. He was still incredibly fatigued after his seizure, so he was grateful for the opportunity to rest. 

"Are you planning on playing your guitar, Will?" Tommy asked idly, and Wilbur’s brows furrowed. 

"Don't know." He mumbled, looking over at the guitar that was still laying on the other couch, along with the picks and capo. 

"It's okay if you don't want to, but I'd really like to hear you play it." Tommy replied slowly, and Wilbur would be lying if he said he didn't want to. He felt pulled towards the guitar whenever he looked at it. 

"...I could play something small, I suppose." He unwrapped himself from all of the blankets he was buried in, and walked over to the guitar. Tommy’s face lit up, and Techno was watching intently with his head tilted. "Do you want me to sing?" Wilbur asked quietly, playing around with the strings to get used to it after so long. 

"You can sing?" Tommy asked, a smile tracing his lips. Wilbur broke eye contact awkwardly, unsure how to answer. 

"He can." Techno answered for him, "He's really good." Wilbur smiled sheepishly. 

"Okay, yeah. You can sing if you want, Will." Tommy sat up, interested. Wilbur nodded mutely, playing through the notes to make sure he had them right. 

"Okay. So, um." Wilbur started to play, his nervousness fizzling away the moment he started playing. Once he got past the intro, his voice perfectly slotted into the notes. It was all coming naturally back to him like he'd never stopped playing.

we all move on,

some faster than others,

we all know. 

 He was completely enraptured by the music, not aware of anything but the notes. He didn't see Phil walk into the room, his eyes wide with a proud smile plastered on his face.

but i can't say that i,

wasted my time,

'cause i'm built by you. 

 He played through the song with few mistakes, feeling his worries melt away for just a moment. 

all i can say is thank you.

He let the final note slowly fade away as he looked up to see everyone in the room teary eyed. He couldn't help but feel a wave of disgust at being thrust back into the world so suddenly. He'd forgotten how music was an escape for him. 

"Did I- did I, um-" Wilbur wasn't sure what he'd done to make them all cry. 

"That was beautiful, Wilbur." Phil whispered, wiping his eyes with a watery smile. "I'm so proud of you." Wilbur wasn't sure how to respond, he froze up completely. No one had ever told him his music was anything worth listening to. No one but Techno. His father made him feel like an utter failure. Like every note he played meant he was letting everyone down. 

"...thank you." He whispered, trying to hold it together. He didn't think he'd be able to stop if he started crying again. 

"What song was it?" Tommy asked quietly, and every time he wiped his eyes, more tears seemed to roll down his cheek. "Who made it? I'd like to listen to it more." Wilbur bit his lip, feeling awkward all of a sudden. 

"It's, uh. It's mine." Wilbur mumbled sheepishly. "I wrote it." He stared down at his guitar, not wanting them to look at him. He couldn't stand the attention. 

"You wrote that? " Tommy asked, his eyes like saucers. "I- I mean, it's so good! I had no idea you could sing like that." 

"It's really not much. It's just a few notes." Wilbur muttered, hoping the praise would stop if he just downplayed it. Tommy shook his head with a frown. 

"It was amazing and you shouldn't think otherwise." Techno cut in, looking Wilbur directly in the eyes. Tommy and Phil both nodded in agreement. Phil’s proud smile hadn't faltered. 

"Do you have any other songs, mate? Or just the one?" Phil asked, wanting to listen more. He wanted to encourage Wilbur, give him the support and love that he should have had all along. 

"I have a couple more." Wilbur replied, picking his guitar back up. "Do you- do you want me to play more?" Wilbur seemed surprised that Phil had even asked. Phil nodded with an encouraging smile. Wilbur nodded shakily, a faint smile on his face. People finally cared enough to listen. He wasn't being dismissed. 

"If you play that fucking guitar while I'm in the house again, I'm going to smash it to pieces. Do you hear me? No one wants to hear your disgusting attempts at making music." 

Phil cared. So he started to play, ignoring every nagging thought that told him he shouldn't be, because everyone in this room was there to listen to him. He felt his shoulders relax as he made his way through the song. He had picked a more angry song this time, and he was letting all of his frustrations hit the strings with each strum. He squeezed his eyes shut and let every emotion shine through his vocals. This was catharsis. 

Maybe he'd be okay. 

Chapter Text

Tomorrow, one more day. Everything was going to crash down tomorrow. And the twins couldn't stomach the thought of it. Wilbur wasn't eating anything, only hugging his waist and not saying a word. He knew he'd only cry again if he spoke, and he was so incredibly exhausted. Crying was only using up the little energy he had left, because there was no way in hell he was going to sleep tonight. 

Techno was handling it differently. He was angry at everything. No one blamed him. He was irritable and wouldn't even talk to Wilbur, to the brunette's dismay. He needed to be alone constantly, which was the opposite of what Wilbur needed. But he was frankly done with putting Wilbur first. He was angry and he was going to put himself before anyone else for the first time in his life. 

Phil knocked gently on Wilbur’s bedroom door— or what remained of it, they had to patch up the part Techno had broken with wooden planks— he wanted to check on him to make sure he was okay. He hadn't left the room all day, and it was 7PM. Wilbur was sitting on his bed, staring out the window silently while hugging a pillow to his chest. Phil’s heart panged with pity. 

"Are you going to eat anything, moondrop? I'm worried about you." Phil was trying not to push, he knew Wilbur wasn't in the mood for any kind of lecture, but he needed to eat. Wilbur shook his head wordlessly, staring blankly forward. He was trembling. "Can you tell me why?" His voice remained soft and patient. Wilbur shook his head again, and Phil frowned. "I just want to-"

"Stop fucking talking." Wilbur snapped, like a whip. He flinched back slightly for just a moment, like he was expecting a retaliation. Phil blinked, and the room fell silent. Wilbur had never snapped at him like that before. He couldn't even count that as progress, it was just Wilbur being upset and tired. 

"Sorry, mate." Phil mumbled, standing up. "I'll leave a granola bar and some juice outside in case you change your mind." He was about to shut the door when Wilbur piped up.

"I'm sorry." He whispered, his eyes watery. Phil shook his head with a sad smile. 

"You don't need to apologise, Wilbur. I know this is tough on you." Phil reassured him, and Wilbur broke almost immediately. He tried to wipe away the tears, like he was ashamed of each droplet.

"I- I don't need- I don't need a hug." Wilbur blubbered, blinking away the second bout of tears that were threatening to fall. Phil nodded silently. Wilbur didn't want anyone near him this week. No one but Techno, and once again, Phil could not blame him. All of his trauma was associated with adults, and everything was so fresh in his mind. It tore Phil apart to even think about.

"Do you need company? I can get Tom to stay with you if you want." He offered, but Wilbur shook his head mutely. 

"I just want to be on my own." He replied, which was a lie. He wanted to be with Techno, but Techno had his own battles to fight. 

"Alright mate. Call me if you need anything, okay?" 

"...okay. Thank you Phil." 

Phil knocked on Techno’s door next. It was the same story, Techno had been in there all day, just like Wilbur. He didn't receive any indication that he was allowed in, so he knocked again. 

"Techno? It's just me, mate." Phil called through the door, his voice soft. He heard a quiet creaking, and a moment later Techno opened the door a crack. He scanned Phil's expression for a moment, not making any movement to open the door fully. "Hiya mate. Did you sleep at all last night? Or today?" Techno shook his head slowly, staring at Phil like some kind of zombie. His eye bags were a dead giveaway that he hadn't slept. "Hungry?" Techno hesitated, starting to shake his head but switching to a hesitant nod after a moment. Phil couldn't help but feel relieved. "Great. Is there anything you want?" 

"Just something to fill me up so I don't die." Techno replied, as blunt as ever. "Not in the mood for flavour." Phil pursed his lips and nodded. 

"Okay, noted. Does pasta sound okay?" Phil wasn't expecting the enthusiastic nod he got in return. Techno must have been hungrier than he'd initially thought. "Alright mate, I'll be back in a while with your-" 

"I'll come downstairs." Techno cut in quietly. "...I feel like I'm losing my mind in here." He swallowed back a lump in his throat, his mind drifting for just a second. Phil managed to mask his saddened expression before Techno looked up at him. The last thing the boy wanted was fuss. 

"Okay, that's great!" Phil wasn't sure what else to say. There were certain topics that Phil had to avoid around Techno, so he had to keep every sentence painfully simple. He offered Techno a warm smile, one that he understandably did not return. At least he was eating. Phil’s mind drifted back to Wilbur, and his stomach knotted with worry. Wilbur was just starting to heal from his eating disorder, and the pure stress of this ordeal was putting him back on the wrong path. He didn't know how to help. 

Techno was sitting at the table, eating his pasta like it was about to disappear when Wilbur walked into the kitchen. He looked exhausted, and Techno felt a wave of guilt wash over him for not speaking to him all day. 

"I was just- I- I smelled the food…" Wilbur trailed off, hoping Phil would take the hint. He didn't know how to ask for food. He didn't want to be a burden and make Phil cook more pasta, but he was so hungry. He couldn't remember when he'd last eaten a full meal. It had been a couple of days, at least. Phil’s face lit up ever so slightly, he could feel the relief flooding in. 

"You want food?" He asked, his voice completely free of judgement. Wilbur nodded awkwardly, starting at the floor. Phil smiled, already filling the pot with more water. "Okay, just give me like ten minutes." Wilbur smiled gratefully, sitting down beside Techno. Techno looked over to him for a second, and there was guilt in his eyes. Wilbur’s brows furrowed in confusion. 

what is he guilty about? 

"I'm sorry for not speaking to you all day." Techno mumbled, answering Wilbur’s question like he could read his mind. Wilbur shook his head, hushing Techno. 

"You don't need to apologise. You need alone time too." It had taken Wilbur a long time to realise that. He was trying to work on his co-dependency, but it was hard at times. He knew they'd always be there for each other, but they needed space too. Wilbur had to respect that, he knew that now. Techno didn't say a word as he kept eating, but Wilbur could see that he was deep in thought. He wouldn't interrupt. They both tended to travel somewhere else when they were deep in thought. Wilbur thanked Phil quietly when a bowl of steaming pasta was placed down in front of him. He ate each piece slowly, savouring each bite. He knew he wouldn’t have any appetite tomorrow. None of them would. Wilbur would finish the pasta and try to sleep. A good night's rest might ease his nerves. 

Wilbur gave up on trying to sleep at about 4AM, deciding it would be more productive to get up and keep himself occupied. He wasn't doing any good by lying and catastrophizing. He dragged himself out of bed, opening his door quietly to make sure it wouldn't creak. Coffee was the first thing on his mind. He couldn't sleep, but he was still exhausted. His anxiety seemed to overpower his need to rest, so he had to survive on caffeine instead. He walked into the kitchen, yelping in fright when he saw he wasn't the only one with that idea. Phil was sitting at the table, sipping a cup of coffee. He looked more tired than Wilbur ever remembered seeing him. Phil’s face lit up slightly when he saw Wilbur, and he smiled tiredly. 

"Can't sleep?" He asked, already knowing the answer. Wilbur nodded silently, walking into the room. 

"I was just going to make some coffee. Is that okay?" Wilbur ran his hand through his hair, cringing at how matted it felt. He hadn't brushed through it in days. Phil nodded with a smile. 

"Of course, mate. Go ahead." He replied, reaching back from where he was sitting and turning on the kettle. Wilbur hummed quietly as he got the instant coffee out of the cupboard. He didn't have the patience to brew a cup right now. "Nervous?" Phil asked, and Wilbur really didn't see the point in the question. 

terrified. 

"Yeah." He mumbled, not wanting to expand on it. He didn't really need to. Phil just sighed. 

"Whatever happens tomorrow, just know that we'll figure it out, okay? Try not to panic about it, we have the recording, we have witnesses. We have so much evidence. All your father has is lies." Phil's words were meant to be reassuring, but each word cut into him like a dagger. Nothing would comfort him. He just didn't want to look at him, not ever again. 

"Thanks Phil." Wilbur tried to ignore the nausea swimming in his stomach. He picked up the kettle to pour it into the mug, his hands violently trembling. The kettle slipped out of his grip for a moment, and the hot water splashed onto his hand. 

"Shit!" He hissed, grabbing his burned hand with furrowed brows. "Fuck." He stumbled backwards, letting go of the kettle like it was a death trap. Phil was at his side immediately, bringing him over to the tap and running the cold water over his hand. 

"You're alright, mate." He soothed, seeing Wilbur's eyelids swimming with tears. "It's alright." 

can't even pour water. 

"You're okay." Phil continued to gently soothe the brunette, even when Wilbur hadn't said a word. Wilbur’s hands were still trembling, and a first degree burn hadn't helped with the anxiety. He soaked a cloth under the tap, handing it to Wilbur. "Here, moondrop, take this and sit down. I'll make your coffee for you." Phil placed a gentle hand on Wilbur’s shoulder, scanning his face to make sure he was okay, and offered him a weak smile. Wilbur sat down mutely, his hair falling over his eyes. Phil placed a cup of coffee down in front of him, sitting back down without a word. Wilbur lifted his head up, using his non-burned hand to pick up the mug and take a sip. A faint smile traced his lips. 

"Honey." He hummed, a weak smile tracing his lips. There was something comforting about the taste of honey. Maybe it was the fact that Phil had always used honey for Wilbur's coffee. It was a taste that was completely untainted by his past. Honey was pure. 

"I always put honey in your coffee, mate. I know how much you like it." Phil replied, his voice warm. 

Honey tasted like love. 

This was why he left his father, for things like this. It was something so simple but it made it all worth it. As terrifying as it was, getting through court meant he'd never have to worry about anything more than honey in his coffee. He'd be able to live without fear. 

if court goes well. 

Wilbur didn't need to think about that. Phil had told them that they'd figure it out and Wilbur trusted Phil more than anything.

"Thank you, Dad." Wilbur whispered, not correcting himself this time. Because he meant it. Phil was more of a father to him than he had ever been. Phil's face crumbled, his eyes brimming with tears and Wilbur was sure he'd said something wrong.

"Oh, mate." Phil wrapped Wilbur up in a hug, and Wilbur hugged back. He felt safe.

Wilbur woke up the next morning, and for a moment, he didn't remember. For one blissful moment, he had forgotten the day that was ahead of him. 

The crashing realisation came with dizzying nausea. He didn't want to get up. He would rather die than face the day, but he knew he didn't have a choice. He would just lie here and wait for someone to tell him otherwise. Lay there and stew in his own anxieties. He didn't see any of this being worth it in the end. Nothing, to Wilbur, was worth looking that man in the eyes again. The man that had ruined his life, completely rewired his brain to be afraid of anything that moved, worked him until he was ready to collapse from exhaustion. He had been a ballet prodigy and now, he'd rather burn than even look at pointe shoes. Things could have been so different. Oh, what could have been, if Phil had been their father from the start. He was pulled out of his thoughts by a quiet knock on the door.

"Wilbur, mate. It's time to get up." Came Phil's tired voice from outside his door. Wilbur could tell from his voice alone that Phil was functioning on caffeine and nothing else. That man had not slept. "You can have five more minutes if you want." He added quietly, and Wilbur appreciated the consideration. There was no point in five more minutes of internal panicking. It would be easier to just get up and drink unreasonable amounts of coffee. 

"Coming." Wilbur mumbled, dragging himself out of bed. He felt so heavy. Sitting down at the side of the bed, he stared out the window. It didn't seem right that it was such a beautiful day. It didn't fit with how he felt at all. Where was the thunder, the booming wind that made his ears whirr. 

It was in his head, he supposed. 

He went to the bathroom to brush his teeth, pressing his palms against the sink. He stared at himself in the mirror for a moment, examining his features. 

who am i.

He still looked broken. After everything he'd gone through, all of the progress he'd made. Still a broken human being, with an equally broken brain. 

"Progress isn't linear, mate. You've come so far, even if you can't see it." 

Phil must have been right. Wilbur wasn't jumping at every single noise anymore, he could sleep most nights without a nightmare, he was eating again. Progress had been made. He wasn't helping anything by scrutinising every little detail of himself. Even if he wasn't fully okay right now, he would be. 

Eventually. 

Techno hadn't slept at all. He was already downstairs when everyone else came down for breakfast. His mind was fuzzy with exhaustion, he felt horrifically ill. Today wasn't going to be kind to him. He could handle many, many things, but court wasn't one of them. 

"Hi Techno mate. Did you sleep at all?" Phil didn't even need to ask. Techno looked up at Phil with dull, cold eyes and shook his head. Phil frowned pityingly. "Me neither. Do you want coffee?" Techno nodded. Caffeine was just what he needed. Wilbur followed Phil into the room a moment later, and he looked about as terrified as Techno felt. Which said a lot.

"You okay?" He whispered, and Wilbur nodded mutely. A blatant lie, but Techno would let it slide. He probably would have lied if Wilbur asked him. Neither of them were okay. Techno was on the verge of some kind of breakdown and Wilbur was about to vomit. Today was only the beginning. This could go on for weeks, which made Techno want to rip his insides out. 

just focus on the coffee. 

It was easier to just not think. He'd learned to put up barriers in his mind so he wouldn't have to. 

"We're here." Phil called back, and Wilbur and Techno both stiffened. The anxiety was becoming almost unbearable for them, but they had to keep going. Wilbur moved his hair out of his face, and looked up at the courthouse. He decided then and there that it was the most terrifying building he'd after laid his eyes upon. "We have time to talk to the lawyer first." Phil added, stepping out of the car. Tommy was standing beside Phil, staring at the floor anxiously. Everyone was unhappy. The twins forced themselves to step out of the car and follow Phil into the looming building ahead of them. "Puffy and the boys are coming for moral support. Oh, and Shelby and James." Wilbur’s face would have lit up if he wasn't so scared. Still, it was nice to know that people cared enough to show up. He wasn't sure that he even wanted them there. No one needed to see the person that Wilbur was around his father. Wilbur didn't want to be here. 

Techno wasn't even listening. They were going through everything with the lawyer, and Techno was staring at his hands, trying his best to hold himself together. He caught a few sentences every once and a while. Mentions of victim impact statements, witness statements, Techno didn't care. His mind was somewhere else. 

"Techno? Is that okay?" Phil was looking directly at him, like he was meant to be listening. 

"What?" He wouldn't even pretend he had even registered a word of it. 

"You and Wilbur will both have to give a victim impact statement. It means you'll have to tell the court how everything has affected you and Wilbur. You wrote out the script a long time ago, do you remember?" Phil looked like each word hurt to repeat. 

i don't remember i don't remember that why don't i remember .

"It's scary, I know. But it will help things a lot." 

Techno was going to vomit. He stood up, shoving his chair out of the way and stumbled out of the room. Wilbur stood up to follow him out, but Tommy gently held him back.

"He'll be back, Will." He assured the brunette, who looked distraught. This wasn't fair. 

"I want to go home." He whispered, knowing it was a childish demand. He felt embarrassed even saying it, but that didn't make it any less true. If he was a weaker man, he would be weeping on the floor. He didn't feel very strong though, despite that. Phil frowned, holding out his hand for Wilbur to squeeze. It always seemed to calm him down, just a little bit. 

"I know, mate. I really wish we didn't have to do this. But just think of the end result, okay? Everything is going to be okay." Phil tried to force some semblance of comfort into his tone, but he was barely holding it together. All of them were hanging on by a thread, and Phil knew it wouldn't take much for that thread to snap. 

Techno returned a few minutes later, looking pale as a ghost. He sat back down wordlessly, looking completely devoid of emotion. Like he'd reset, he had shut down. 

"...you okay?" Wilbur whispered, and Techno didn't dignify the question with an answer. They both knew the answer to that question. They didn't have much longer before they had to go out, and every second that ticked by was torture. Tick, tick, tick, tock. Each clock tone was taunting them, reminding them of what was creeping ever closer. Techno seemed to be disassociating and Wilbur was painfully aware of everything. Polar opposites, as always. 

"How does pizza sound after this?" Phil asked quietly, and neither of the twins were in the right state to be grateful for the attempt at lightening the mood. So Phil's question was left in the air to fizzle away. And the numbing silence returned, broken only by the menial ticking of the clock. What Wilbur would give to be at home with his guitar. 

"Court is in session." 

Wilbur wanted to die. 

This was the purest form of torture. Sitting on this uncomfortable wooden chair, listening to their lawyer outline every agonising detail of what their father had done. Wilbur didn't need to hear it, he didn't want to. These wounds weren't even healed and they were already being ripped open with unfathomable cruelty. He didn't understand how any of these people could sleep at night. How did his father's lawyers live with themselves? Knowing they were fighting to keep an abuser on the streets. Wilbur's eyes were glued to the floor, he could feel his father's eyes burning into his head and he wouldn't allow him the satisfaction of looking back.

He wouldn't let him win, he would take his petty victory. Even if it was just avoiding eye contact. 

"We aim to put forward unmistakable proof of the depraved abuse that Wilbur and Technoblade Soot endured throughout their childhood and adolescence, and end this court case with the verdict of guilty for Mr Soot." Wilbur looked over to Techno beside him, and he looked like he wasn't even in the room. His eyes were a blank slate. Wilbur almost felt jealous. He looked up, carefully avoiding the area of the courtroom where his father was sitting. He hadn't seen his face yet, and he intended to keep it that way. He looked over to Shelby and James, who both looked utterly miserable. They were looking right at him, with that look of pity that Wilbur fucking despised. They both waved weakly when they noticed him looking, and he barely had the energy to wave back. 

i just want to go home. it's all i want.

Wilbur tuned out when his father's lawyer started talking. The moment that monster started saying Wilbur and Techno were liars, his brain took the reins and switched off.

“The plaintiffs will now present their side of the story.” The judge ordered, and Wilbur snapped out of his trance. He knew enough about the proceedings to know that he was a plaintiff. The judge was looking over to the area where Wilbur, Techno, Tommy and Phil were sitting expectantly. Wilbur was starting to feel dizzy. Phil stood up quietly, giving Wilbur a gentle smile.

“I’ll go first, mate.” He whispered, walking over to the stand.

“Your name, and relationship to the plaintiffs?” The judge asked, and Phil took a shaky breath before answering.

“Phil Watson, I’m their foster parent and a witness. They’re not ready to go up yet, so I’m going first, if that’s okay.” Wilbur could hear his voice trembling as he shuffled the papers in front of him. The judge nodded, allowing him to proceed. Phil took another deep breath, trying to hold himself together. “My first interaction with Wilbur and Techno was during a ballet tournament a few months ago. They walked into the VIP lounge and something was- something was seriously off. Wilbur was mid panic attack and Techno seemed completely detached. I was immediately worried for their safety, because their father was nowhere to be seen, and neither of the boys had any intention of looking for him.” Phil shot a murderous glare over to their father, holding it for a moment. If looks had the capacity to kill someone, Phil would have been the first to do it. “Wilbur was scarily thin, like he barely ate anything at all. Which only worried me more. My son, Tommy, invited them to lunch, and the moment they arrived at the restaurant we all noticed something seriously wrong. Both of the boys were injured, and that was my first tip off that they were living in a hostile home environment. Throughout the tournament, they were coming back with various different injuries that they both passed off as clumsiness.” Phil shuffled his papers once again, his breathing becoming slightly ragged. He looked over to Wilbur, who was hugging his knees, tears rolling down his cheeks. 

“There was an incident that was impossible to ignore a few days later.” Phil was fighting back tears of his own. “Techno entered the VIP lounge alone. Wilbur wasn’t with him and he was extremely hesitant to tell me where he was. He eventually admitted to me that he didn’t know where Wilbur was, and asked me to find him. I went to look for him, along with Puffy, who was another coach in the tournament and my dear friend. We eventually-” Phil trailed off, wiping his eyes with shaky breaths. Someone placed a cup of water in front of him and walked away. Phil took a sip, trying to regain the little composure he had left. He looked back over to Wilbur, who was sobbing with his head tucked in between his knees. Techno was staring blankly forward, his eyes eerily wide. Tommy was looking right at him, his eyes red rimmed with tears.

“We eventually found him, in the- in the uh, the dressing room. And he was- he was in a bad way. He was bleeding and couldn’t even stand up. We had both seen his father walking past before we- before we found him. Wilbur told me that his father was the one that had done it to him.” Phil put down his paper, looking up at the judge. The judge nodded solemnly, looking disturbed at what they’d heard. 

“Thank you, Mr Watson.” They waved back over to his seat, letting him know he could go back over to the others. Phil was trembling uncontrollably, making no attempts to wipe away the tears that continued to flow.

“The plaintiffs may now present any evidence that they have.” Wilbur and Techno’s lawyer stood up, handing the judge a USB drive with the footage from the night they’d escaped. They put the video on the projector and let it play out. Wilbur covered his ears as his sobs started becoming uncontrollable. 

"Why are you standing by the bookshelf? You've got something to hide, don't you" 

"No! I- I wouldn't, I would never-"

"A camera? That's funny. You thought you could hide a camera?" 

Wilbur was starting to hyperventilate, and he curled in on himself. Tommy took Wilbur’s hand in his, squeezing it gently. 

"I'm here." He whispered. Wilbur was taking in sharp breaths in-between sobs. 

i can't handle this. 

"T-Tech- Techno, stand- stand up. Get up! TECHNO GET UP."

"I don't think you'll ever learn. It's a shame, what I have to do. You both could have been great."

Wilbur flinched back, muffling a scream with his hands. He was losing grip on reality. This was all becoming too real. Tommy squeezed his hand tighter, trying to pull him back.

"Wilbur, it's okay. I'm here. We're all here." He whispered, but Wilbur wasn't listening anymore. The camera audio was muffled from being on the floor, but Wilbur could hear every word. He was living it. 

"I- I don't know if this camera has audio. P-Phil, please come. I- I think he's gonna- He's-"

They stopped the recording when Wilbur’s scream pierced the air. That was the part of the recording where Wilbur had been stabbed, and Wilbur couldn't handle it anymore. He instinctively wrapped his arms around his stomach, his chest heaving as he cried. 

"We'll take a fifteen minute recess." The judge ordered, and Phil stood up, trying to get Wilbur out of the courtroom as fast as possible. The sobbing teen was making no attempt to stand up. Phil looked over to Techno, who was blinking slowly like he was coming back to reality. 

"Is- is Wilbur-?" Phil hushed him almost immediately. 

"Techno, don't worry about anyone but yourself, okay. Are you alright?" Phil was looking at him with concern. Techno's mind felt incredibly cloudy, and he couldn't remember any of what had just happened. 

"I- I zoned out. I don't know." He mumbled, looking bewildered. Phil frowned, the concern not leaving his expression. 

"Okay, alright. Let's focus on getting Wilbur out of here and then we can talk, okay?" Tommy was trying to speak to a completely unresponsive Wilbur, and failing miserably. Techno kneeled down beside him, grabbing his hand and tapping the same rhythm. The one he tapped every single time. Wilbur slowly lifted his head, his cheeks soaked with tears. He was so tired. They all were. Techno gently grabbed Wilbur’s hand, telling him that they were taking a break. He was trying to mask his own confusion, his mind still incredibly foggy. They walked down from their stand, and over to the door leading them to the backroom. Techno caught a glimpse of his father in one of the rooms as they walked past, and his stomach panged with panic like he'd been shot. He tried to keep his breathing steady, staring at the floor as he walked. He needed to be anywhere but here. Everything was petrifying to him, but he wasn't sure if he was able to express it. He'd figured out by now that Phil would allow him to feel that way, but it was almost like he'd completely blocked away that part of himself. Thrown away the key. Today was the day that he was meant to be vulnerable, but he was locking himself up. 

not anymore. 

Techno needed to stand up for himself. He'd spent his whole life fighting for others, defending others. Everyone knew that Techno had fighting blood in him, he was no stranger to both delivering and receiving punches. But it was never really for himself, despite what he'd tried to tell his brain. This time, he was going to fight in his own corner. With words, not violence. He wouldn't stoop to that scumbag's level. Not ever again. He knew how to make words hurt. He'd put up with those words for 16 years, and he was going to send them right back in a pretty little package. 

He wasn't letting that man break him down anymore. Not when he'd just started to patch himself back together. 

"Wilbur? Are you with me?" Phil was waving his hands in front of Wilbur’s face, startling him. He blinked a few times, looking up at Phil in a daze. He'd switched off again. 

"Uh, yeah. Sorry. I'm here." He replied, his eyelids heavy from crying. The day wasn't even over yet. 

"We have to go back out, mate." Phil bit his lip, holding back tears when he saw Wilbur’s face crumble. It broke his heart to see what this was doing to them both. "Today is almost over, mate. We have to get through today, and then we have a break, alright?" Wilbur shook his head weakly, his lip trembling. 

"I can't." He whispered, his voice small and scratchy. "I can't do it, Phil." He didn't even have the energy to cry, but he knew he would be bawling if he could. Phil held out his hand for Wilbur to take, and he squeezed it gently. 

"Wilbur, you are the bravest person I have ever met." Phil fell silent, letting the words sink in before continuing. Wilbur bit his lip, looking at Phil like he knew it wasn't true. "I know how scared you are. I'm fucking terrified, for fucks sake. I won't lie to you, Wilbur. It's okay to be terrified, it's normal. But what's important is that we get your father back to where he belongs, okay?" Phil waited patiently for Wilbur to process what had been said. Wilbur took a shaky breath, breaking eye contact to look at Techno. He immediately noticed that something had changed in Techno’s demeanour. It was like he had more hope than before. There was fiery determination in his eyes, Wilbur could see it clearly.

Phil was wrong, Techno was the bravest person he'd ever met. Wilbur didn't feel brave at all. 

"...okay." He took another breath, one after another. Things seemed a little bit more bearable when he had a steady breathing rhythm. His eyes flickered back over to Techno, and he knew he couldn't back down when they were so close to getting justice. They deserved this. "Okay. Alright, I'll do it." Phil managed to plaster on a proud smile despite how worried he felt, and place a gentle hand on Wilbur's shoulder. 

"I'm so proud of you." 

i'm doing it for techno. 

Wilbur shuffled back into the courtroom along with the others, and he felt the atmosphere of the room shift as soon as they did. It was like everyone was uncomfortable with his presence. He chose to ignore their sympathetic tittering every time he expressed his own discomfort even slightly. It was a little too similar to paparazzi. Deeply evil people that would purposefully ask inflammatory questions to get a reaction. Wilbur wasn’t going to give them one, and he never had. He sat down beside the others, holding out his hand mutely and tapping Techno’s. His eyes flickered towards Wilbur, and he silently wrapped his hand around his. They both felt a little more secure when they were near each other. But in Wilbur’s mind, there was nothing secure about being in the same room as his father.
Wilbur’s grip on Techno’s hand tightened. 

“The plaintiffs may now present their victim impact statements if they have chosen to do so.” 

Before Wilbur had even registered what was said, Techno had already stood up. He looked back to Wilbur, and Wilbur saw that the fire in Techno's eyes hadn't flickered in the slightest. It put Wilbur at ease, just a little. Techno was confident. He looked just as terrified as before, but there was something else in the way his eyes glinted. 

"Let's give him what he deserves." Techno whispered, offering his brother a weak smile. Wilbur nodded shakily, standing up and wavering on his feet. His anxiety was making him unbearably shaky. He stumbled forward but Techno caught his arm before he could fall. "I've got you." 

"Thanks." Wilbur mumbled. Techno squeezed his hand again, letting him know that he was still there. They both took a few shaky breaths, steadying themselves before marching into one of the most difficult things they'd have to do. 

"You ready?" 

"There's no point stalling any longer." Wilbur replied, looking out to the stands. His eyes caught on his father before he could stop them. His breath hitched, and he felt a wave of fear wash over him, making him freeze in place. It was the kind of fear he never wanted to feel again. But there was something so different about him this time. He looked so small, he looked pathetic. Wilbur felt his fear start to melt away. His father was staring at the floor, looking woefully sorry for himself. But Wilbur didn't feel any sympathy as his frightened expression turned to pure, unadulterated spite. He would have smiled if he wasn't so nervous. That was a weak, tiny man, and Wilbur was stronger than he'd ever be. Things were starting to feel a little less daunting. Not by much, but Wilbur knew that he wasn't weak anymore. 

"You've come so far, even if you can't see it." 

Wilbur knew that now. 

"You can start whenever you'd like, boys." The judge's voice seemed to soften when they were talking to them. The twins both nodded in unison, and Techno cleared his throat, indicating that he was going to start. Wilbur reached for Techno’s hand, squeezing it tight. He could already see tears pricking Techno’s eyes as he shuffled his papers. He took a deep breath, and looked up at the jury for a moment, letting the gravity of the situation set in. Things weren't going to get any easier, so he just needed to start. 

"My name is Technoblade Soot, and I'm a victim of child abuse and neglect, along with my brother. When we were kids, it was mostly restricted to verbal and emotional abuse. But our father knew how to make words cut deep, and that completely destroyed our self worth. I don't think either of us will ever really forget the things that we were told. There are always going to be bad days where everything seems true. Those days are becoming less and less common now, but it used to be our lives. When our mother was still around, she didn't allow our father to hurt us. A few years later, our mother committed suicide." Techno looked up, relishing in his father's shocked expression. He hadn't told either of them the truth, but Wilbur had always known. "Which left our father a single parent. This meant that he could do whatever he wanted. That was when things became physical. Since we could walk, we had done ballet. Our mother had always been our coach, and we were good. She made sure we knew that, she made it feel like the things our father was saying weren't true. When she died, our father took the reins and coached us instead. His methods were different to hers, they were lethal. Every time one of us fumbled a routine, he would take us out and beat us until we stopped." Techno paused, feeling a lump rising in his throat. Wilbur squeezed his hand again, silent tears rolling down his own cheeks.

"You can do it." He whispered, audible only to Techno. Techno looked back and gave him a small nod, his nonverbal way of saying thank you. 

"There was no affirmation, no kind words. His coaching methods – if you could even call them that, made sure that we were living in constant fear of being abused. The pure fear of what would happen was how he made us keep going. We were made to dance until we physically couldn't, and we were only allowed the bare minimum amount of sleep. We were zombies, barely awake at all. I don't remember a moment from back then when I didn't have a headache. He restricted our food intake, only allowing us one meal a day, if any. He told us that dancers needed to be slim, and we would never succeed if we ate too much. We don't know what a normal food portion is supposed to look like. Our relationship with food was so distorted by him. We were left constantly starving and malnourished, and expected to keep dancing and training despite how we had no energy at all. It was like he enjoyed our pain. We were permitted only two hours of free time on a Sunday, everything else was ballet or sleep. We barely went to school, because it was a waste of precious practice time, in his eyes. We were his puppets, around only to dance in tournaments that won him money. None of that money was kept for us, every single penny was spent on alcohol for himself. The money we made was enough to pay for college, but he took it from both of us for his own gain. He ruined our lives. I need him behind bars, please. We got out of that environment but the memories haven't left. Everything he's said and done is burned into me. I can never truly live a normal life, fuck, neither of us can. That's how it all affected us both collectively, but there's so much more to it. The way he wired my brain to work. I'm still trying to unlearn everything he taught me, I'm trying to become my own person. We both struggled with codependency to cope. All we had was each other, so we needed to be together at all times. One of us had to be stronger than the other, because having two emotional wrecks wouldn't make things easier. So I took on the role of the stronger one. This has left me unable to express my emotions in a healthy way because I've repressed them for so long. I've done bad things to people I love because I could barely express anything but anger. I'm trying to learn how to regulate, but that's what he did to me. He turned me into an emotionless, bitter person. But I won't give him the satisfaction of staying that way. I'm not going to live like this anymore." 

Techno stepped back from the stand, his chest heaving as he tried to hold in a sob. Wilbur leaned forward and pulled him into a hug. 

"You did so good." Wilbur whispered, holding in his own sobs. He hadn't even started yet. "I'm so proud of you, Tech." 

"I hope it hurts him to hear what he did." Techno spat, his voice shaking. He had held it together so well. 

"It's not over yet." Wilbur replied, his voice laced with venom. Techno was crying, and there was only one person to blame. And Wilbur knew exactly what he had to do to make things even. 

Wilbur stepped forward onto the stand once he had made sure Techno was okay. The click of his shoe echoed throughout the courtroom, which was completely silent. Wilbur’s eyes darted back over to his father, who was still staring at the floor. His lawyers were writing frantically, seemingly trying to compose a counter argument. Wilbur held a glare, waiting for them to feel it burning into them and look up. He could see their eyes flickering nervously upwards, and that was enough. He turned back to Techno, who was trying to hold himself together. 

he did so well. i need to do the same, for us. hold it in for a few minutes and you can cry your eyes out when you get out. 

Techno gave Wilbur a weak nod and a thumbs-up, and that was all he needed to start. 

"I'm Wilbur. I'm a victim of abuse and neglect." Wilbur already had to pause after that one sentence. It always seemed to hurt more when he was the one saying it. "Every day since we escaped, I've had to remind myself that he can't hurt me anymore. I can live without being in fear of my life or my brother's. My scars have healed and bruises have faded, and they're never going to come back. At least, nothing caused by him." 

"I don’t have to listen to him anymore." Wilbur paused to take a few deep breaths, his palms pressed against the stand. 

you're okay. it's okay. 

Techno started to tap on Wilbur’s arm, letting him know that he was right behind him. 

"I don't have to be afraid of him anymore, not ever again. Because of him, I suffered through an eating disorder that I'm still healing from, thinking it was completely normal. My mind was so twisted that I was sure that this was healthy for me. Because of him, I can't sleep through most nights without having paralysing nightmares. I've had more anxiety induced seizures than I can count, more panic attacks than anyone should ever have to endure. He tainted what should have been a happy childhood. Now that I've been offered a happy, healthy family with Phil and Tommy, and of course Techno, I need to know that he isn't ever going to be near me ever again. I need to make sure that my life can't be taken away from me. Phil has done more for us in these few months than my father had ever done for us in our lives. He isn't deserving of the father title. Phil is more of a father to me than he ever was. Because of my father, I didn't know that I was worthy of love. I won't lie here and say I fully understand it even now. My self worth was dictated by him, and he made sure I thought low of myself. No one else would ever have the patience to put up with me, or care for me like he did. That's what he used to tell me, and in the same breath he would make sure I knew how utterly worthless I was. How worthless we both were. But he's a liar." Wilbur trailed off for a moment, mentally preparing himself to say what he never had the courage to say out loud. 

if you say it aloud, it's true. 

"Me and Techno have always been worthy of love, and happiness. We never deserved what happened to us and no one should ever have to go through what we did."

That was where Wilbur’s written statement had ended, but he wasn't done. He had more to say. Techno grabbed his arm gently, ready to pull him away, but Wilbur turned his head and shook it gently. Techno looked confused but he let go reluctantly. 

"I've been spending the past few months trying to unlearn everything he taught me. But there's one precious thing that he left me with. One skill that stuck with me." He waited for a moment, looking straight forward at his father. He would wait all day if it meant that coward would look him in the eyes. After an unsettling moment of silence, his father looked up to finally meet his gaze for the first time that day. Wilbur pushed back the fear, holding eye contact and making sure his hatred was apparent. He could feel his heart thumping in his chest, but he pushed it all down. He had one more thing to say. 

"Because of my father, I know how to make words hurt. I've heard enough insults to be able to dish them out, so I'd just like to let the court know one thing about that man." Wilbur paused, watching everyone in the room tilt their heads to look at the man. Wilbur could see a vein bulging out of his forehead, which meant he was furious. But Wilbur didn't have it in him to be scared anymore. He was running on pure adrenaline and he needed to utilise it before it was gone. 

"You are worthless, Wilbur. Do you understand me?" 

"That man is completely worthless."

"You do not deserve to be loved, you don't deserve any of what you have. I've been nothing but gracious to you, because you have earned nothing."

"He is undeserving of love, he deserves nothing. He is the scum of the earth, and needs to be treated that way." Wilbur looked over to where Phil and Tommy were sitting, and he smiled internally. Tommy was looking at him with his mouth agape, but there was a trace of a smile somewhere within the shock. And Phil's beaming face told Wilbur everything he needed to know. 

"That's it." Wilbur mumbled, stepping back from the stand and collapsing into a hug from Techno. 

"You're fucking magical, Wilbur." Techno whispered, his head buried in Wilbur’s sweater as he cried. “I’m so proud of you." 

Wilbur shut his eyes, not allowing himself to register what he had said. 

"Court is adjourned for today." The judge ordered, and the room immediately started to clear. Wilbur watched his father scuttle out of the courtroom like the coward he really was.

The twins were still wrapped up in their hug when Phil and Tommy ran up to them. 

"Let's- let's get you both to the back room, and we can talk then, okay?" Phil offered, his voice leaking with pride. He was holding it in for now. He'd make sure they were both okay before bombarding them with praise. He looked beside him, giving Tommy a look that clearly said do not overwhelm them. Tommy nodded quietly, and Phil smiled gently. "Okay, let's go." Wilbur and Techno moved away from their hug, following Phil and Tommy out of the courtroom. They'd gotten through the hardest part. 

i fucking hope that was the worst of it.