Chapter Text
Wilbur was weeding his garden, which to his disappointment had still yet to produce anything worthy of his picking basket. Wilbur breathed in and out, focusing on the monotonous task, grab tug throw, grab tug throw, grab tug throw. As the dirt started to stain his hands and collect under his nails, he couldn’t help but despise his past self. What had he been thinking? A garden? Wilbur couldn’t keep a plant alive for the life of him, and it probably wouldn’t even produce anything. Technoblade had been right though, it was sort of calming, he enjoyed the fresh air and it kind of did give him a hobby to do instead of pointlessly scrolling on his phone for hours, but Wilbur could never admit that to him.
His thoughts were quickly cut off by the sound of loud footsteps and sticks breaking. Whatever was making the sounds had sounded distressed, heavy panting and hurried running.
Wilbur’s house was located in a kind of isolated place, with woods on one side and a lake on the other. Getting to his neighbors house on foot would take at least 20 minutes, having to go up his long driveway, and then over to the small neighborhood to the left. To his knowledge there was nothing in those woods for miles, so he was completely freaking the fuck out.
He jumped up, shovel in hand, and got into a horrible fighting stance (he had never been as interested in fighting stuff as Techno was), and looked in the direction the sounds were coming from. Heart pounding in his chest, Wilbur watched as a disheveled guy came running out of the woods straight towards his house.
Trying to maintain a tough facade, he yelled towards the boy, “Hey” his voice wobbled “What the hell are you doing??”
The boy stopped straight in his tracks and looked over at Wilbur. Trying to suppress his trembling, the boy shakily yelled back, “W-Who are you?”
Wilbur was able to see him more clearly now. He was tall, maybe six feet, and had long brown, dirty hair. His red and white shirt was burnt, torn, and dirty, his pants the same. The kid was in dire need of a shower, new clothes, and a meal. And he couldn’t be older than eighteen.
“Who am I? You’re on my property!?” Wilbur responded, voice softer than before.
The boy seemed to notice Wilbur's change in demeanor, Wilbur had looked just as scared as him, “So what bitch!”
“Uh” He paused. “My name is Wilbur...What's yours..child?” he asked carefully.
“I am NOT a child” he said “And my name is Tommy” he added, quieter than before.
Wilbur wasn’t sure what to do now. Invite Tommy in and risk being murdered by a crazy person? Should he take the kid to the police and let them handle him? He was lost.
But before he could say anything else Tommy spoke “You aren’t gonna kill me right? I’ve had kind of a rough day and I am not in the mood to be murdered by some guy in the middle of the woods”
Dumbfounded, Wilbur responded “What, no! I'm not gonna murder you”
He made up his mind. Dropping the shovel, Wilbur started walking towards his house, “Would you like to come in? You really look like you need a shower and some new clothes”
Tommy sheepishly agreed, following Wilbur towards the house.
Usually Tommy wouldn’t be this trusting of random strangers he just met in the middle of nowhere, but he was at his wits end. Plus this guy didn’t seem very threatening at all, in fact he felt familiar, like someone he had met before but just couldn’t place. Lost in thought Tommy didn’t realize they had reached the house and walked straight into Wilbur, who was walking up the steps to the house.
Wilbur fell onto the deck and let out a pained groan, which Tommy found absolutely hilarious. “Fuck you!” Wilbur playfully yelled, and Tommy laughed even harder, until he didn’t. His laughs turned into sobs. Wilbur jumped to Tommy’s side, “Tommy, I’m sorry I was just joking around I didn’t mean it” He jumped up “Look im fine, see!”
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry” Tommy repeated, his breathing intensifying.
Wilbur sat down next to him, holding and telling him it was alright until Tommy’s breathing steadied. Wilbur then helped him up and slowly brought Tommy to his couch to lay down, where he almost immediately passed out.
Wilbur was completely overwhelmed. All he was supposed to do today was work on his garden, pickup some food and then spend the rest of his evening watching some trashy bravo show. And now he has a dirty kid from God knows where asleep on his couch.
Wilbur knew he should call Techno, or Phil, or the cops, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Tommy looked so peaceful asleep on his couch, and he couldn’t help but feel like he recognized him. So instead, Wilbur put his throw blanket over the sleeping, went into the kitchen and started to cook.