Chapter Text
"Wilby, look." The ten-year-old said, pointing at a bush as he ran around the park.
There weren't many people around, everyone knew what day it was. Wilbur had given up on trying to get a signal a while ago, instead, he took to watching his younger brother as he dirtied his clothes and ate mud.
He turned to look at his brother and watched him vanish behind a tree.
Wilbur quickened his pace to catch up with Tommy, calling out after Wilbur found it unnaturally silent.
"Hey, Tommy!"
No reply.
Wilbur walked up to the tree where Tommy was last and peered around it expecting large smiles and golden hair, but he saw none of it. Wilbur's smile faltered to a frown.
"Toms, where are you? This isn't funny."
Wilbur was starting to get nervous.
As he looked around and saw none of his baby brother, thoughts started to bombard his head.
Thoughts that would only cloud his mind late at night - in the darkness of his bedroom. He tried to keep that part of him away from Tommy. His breath was becoming erratic, sweat was forming on his forehead and he felt a wave of dizziness like he was going to pass out.
When suddenly, in the corner of his eye, a figure moved, reaching for him.
"Boo!"
Wilbur screamed in shock, jumped back and fell to the floor. His palms landed in a pile of mud.
Wilbur looked up and saw exactly what he was looking for, large smiles and golden hair. The lump in his throat subsided as he looked up at his baby brother, who was in a giant fit of laughter.
Wilbur breathed out a sigh of relief and smiled. His brother’s big grin usually did that to him - radiated a warmth in his chest that nothing else could cause. Caused all of the terror to ebb away, replaced with grins of love and adoration.
"You- you should have seen your face," Tommy told him, struggling to keep his laughter in.
"It was priceless."
Wilbur stood up and walked over to Tommy, wrapping his arms around him. Tommy froze at the contact but immediately relaxed, and melted into the hug. Wilbur saw the opportunity and wiped his muddy hands all over Tommy’s back.
“Hey!”
"Don't do that again," Wilbur’s voice muffled by Tommy's hair "You almost gave me a heart attack."
Wilbur pulled away from the hug and looked at Tommy, the mud on his back forgotten completely, guilt was written all over his face, but Tommy hid it with a wry smile.
"On your last leg, old man?"
"I am not old, how dare you," Wilbur said in mock offence."You gremlin child."
"Oh, you're in for it now!" Tommy ran up to Wilbur and jumped on his back, he held Tommy's legs and ran to the nearest tree, a screaming Tommy on his back.
The day continued like this, filled with playful banter and jokes between siblings.
They stopped at an empty café, made flower crowns and decided to head home for the day.
The brothers walked down an empty path, giggling and chatting, Wilbur’s trench coat swayed around his ankles. Tommy jumped and sprung as he walked. He rambled and rambled and Wilbur let him, he enjoyed it when his brother would talk to him endlessly, he would comment now and then but he preferred to listen.
It was relaxing to hear his brother’s mumbles about school and his friends - it distracted him from the present. The only thing good about the present was Tommy; nothing else.
He was talking about a cow he saw walking home from school which he had dubbed Henry.
Tommy, all of a sudden, fell quiet. Everything was so silent, except for the ringing now drilling into his skull.
Wilbur looked over to where his brother was standing, except he wasn't there.
Nothing was there.
Wilbur looked around confused.
"Tommy?"
Nothing.
"Tommy!”
Wilbur's brain was going haywire, it was jumping to conclusions that couldn’t possibly be true... right? He could hear the blood rushing past his ear as his heart started to drum louder, quicker. He pulled his phone out from his trench coat pocket, his hands struggled to turn it on; they were numb and shook from the terror settling itself in his mind.
He checked the time.
It was 5 o'clock, just before sunset.
"No no no no no no no," Wilbur repeated like a mantra. Fresh tears rolled down his cheeks, staining them. “Fuck.”
"TOMMY!" He screamed, piercing his lungs. "Not him, NOT HIM!"
His knees buckled; he fell to the ground.
"Please…"
______________
Wilbur felt fuzzy like he'd just been beaten to a pulp kind of fuzzy, and his head hurt. It was a dull throb, it could be ignored but Wilbur was sure it would get on his nerves eventually.
As time passed he became more aware of his surroundings, he was lying on something hard maybe concrete and it was oddly quiet, even though Wilbur lived on the outskirts of Essempi it was never quiet.
Never this quiet.
Waking up was an agonisingly slow process, he eventually snapped himself out of his dazed state and came to full consciousness, which wasn’t as easy as it seemed. His eyelids were so fucking heavy and his limbs wouldn’t move no matter what he did.
He was so tired.
He was tired a lot lately, he welcomed it, it was a sign that he could soon escape his problems.
Dragged beneath mountains of second-hand blankets and pillows. Swallowed by the depths of sleep. Away from the suffocation of life, life was just too fucking hard to deal with.
He wanted to just lie there but something felt… off. That’s one way of putting it.
Wilbur managed to flutter his eyelids open.
Through the slit in his eyelids, he couldn’t see much. The only thing he could see was blue. A lot of blue. That would make sense because it was probably the sky but why did it feel wrong?
Everything felt wrong.
There were no cars; no birds; no clouds, and why was he on the floor?
It didn’t make sense, the last thing he remembered was walking, not lying on the ground feeling like he had just slept for a century.
What happened?
Was he dead?
Primes he wished he was dead.
He had to have been drunk. That would explain the amnesia and headache.
Wilbur lifted his head, the movement sending waves of dizziness through his skull, the gentle throb turning into a pounding headache.
Why did he do this to himself? Where even was he?
It took a while for the dizziness to disappear, spots drifted past his vision. They reminded him of the birds he would see so often, usually coming close enough to pet them, he just had a way with them.
Ever since he was a child, birds - especially crows - excited him, the idea of flying and being able to glide above everyone, above his problems, made him hopeful. Obviously, that hope had run out a long time ago, a 24-year-old man couldn’t have dreams about being a bird, it was just childish.
But they also reminded him of Tommy, wonderful carefree Tommy. He used to run around the park with his arms outstretched; a wide grin on his face, showing off his gap teeth and bright golden hair flowing in the wind.
Tommy’s giggling laughter would echo through his skull in his dreams.
It would only worsen the ever-growing ache in his heart. Wilbur missed his baby brother but he did everything to forget him.
Tommy was dead. Maybe.
No. He was definitely dead, he had to be.
Wait.
The memory of Tommy’s radiant smile and bird impression faded from his mind.
Where were all the birds?
Essempi was full of birds, especially on the outskirts, which was where he was - hopefully.
There wasn’t the flapping of wings nearby or the incessant chirps that sometimes drove him mad. There was no birdsong (which would make sense since it wasn’t early morning but still), there was always something, some sign of their presence like a glimpse of a wing in the corner of his eye or a feather lying on the ground.
But now there was nothing.
And why was he still on the ground?
Why was there a fucking barcode on his wrist?
Since when did he have a tattoo?
Primes he had so many questions.
Small stones dug into his hands as he leant on them and slowly pushed himself up, trying not to unsettle the dizziness that had now all but disappeared. He managed to sit up with only one pause, he may have gone a bit too fast for his vertigo.
Now he could see he was sitting on the road or the pavement - it didn’t matter -, all that mattered was that it had fucked up his back. Fuck it ached.
His eyes drifted to his surroundings, yep he was in the outskirts all right. The weird shitty houses gave that away. It was as if the council had decided: fuck it. There was no proper planning for the outskirts, it was a weird mesh of decent houses and ones that could crumble with a single touch. Some people tried to make it look nice with the odd plant or tree, Wilbur had even seen someone go to the extent of putting in a white picket fence and creating a garden in the front of their house. It didn’t take that long for the fence to get destroyed by a car and the garden to be smashed up by some drunk teenagers. Luckily Wilbur lived in an okay area, it wasn’t perfect, far from it but at least it wasn’t like where he was currently sitting.
There was a corner of houses where a couple had burned down and it seemed that no one had been bothered to fix it since it was charred to bits, with rubble hanging off and ash covering the road and pavement. Other houses had their windows smashed in with blankets covering them - a meagre attempt to fix something that would probably kill the owners in the winter. Heating was so hard to acquire especially in the outskirts when most of the population could barely even afford to support themselves.
The thing that was bothering Wilbur the most was that the whole street looked abandoned like everyone had just disappeared. There were cars left in the middle of the road. A barbecue (likely stolen, honestly he was surprised they got it working) was burning in front of someone’s house, freshly lit. There was no chatter or the rumble of an engine.
It was deathly silent…
Where was everyone?
Surely they hadn’t disappeared, not all of them.
Wilbur was starting to panic and when Wilbur panicked it wasn’t just a bit of anxiety, it was usually a panic attack that wouldn’t stop without anyone to help. By the looks of it, if he had a panic attack now no one was going to help.
He shoved his terror down his throat as he pulled his phone out of his pocket. Wilbur immediately called 911 but it immediately just fucking cut out.
What the fuck!
Wilbur glanced up to check his connection when he realised that there was no fucking service.
“Shit!”
With a scowl, he pushed himself to his feet, it took less effort than sitting up (thank Prime), his vertigo was now the least of his problems.
Everything was empty, the houses, the cars, the entire fucking population has fucking disappeared.
“What the actual fuck is going on!” Maybe someone would hear him, maybe there was someone out there.
“Hello! Is anybody there? Please, for the love of Prime, someone respond!” This was a nightmare, a fucking nightmare.
Wilbur was freaking out.
What if he was all alone?
What if he dies out here?
He is definitely going to die alone.
Nope, only positive thoughts…FUCK!
There has to be someone out here.
He willed his legs to move, they ached like hell but that was the least of his worries, he needed to find someone or else he would have a mental breakdown.
Wilbur really doesn't want to have a mental breakdown, especially not in this situation.
He ran past the burnt-down buildings and the barbecue to the main road, ash under his heavy feet. The pounding in his head was getting manageable but it still throbbed behind his eyes, it got worse when he met the main road.
When he met nothing, nobody.
“Hello!” The shout tour at his throat, he didn’t bother to hide his panic, at the back of his mind any hope that he had disappeared in an instant.
“Hello!”
“Anyone!”
“Please…”
A sob escaped from his mouth, why should he try to hide it, no one was there. Wilbur sank to the floor, brought his knees to his chest and wrapped his arms around them. He hugged them tightly as if they were his only lifeline, which was probably true, he was his only comfort and he was doing a shit job. A single tear ran down his cheek, it had been a long time since he had cried, probably six years and Wilbur was determined not to ruin his record. He quickly wiped the tear from his face as if it was devil spawn.
Primes he was pathetic.
He stood up and shook the tension from his limbs, he wiped his face with his clammy hands as if it was going to get rid of his red nose and slightly puffy eyes. A determined look set on his face, it was almost as if he had hope.
He didn’t.
Wilbur began walking away from the street with the charred buildings and smashed windows when he heard something. It wasn’t even that loud, just a small crash but it was the only evidence of life he had.
He walked in the direction of the noise, questions filling his head.
What was it?
Was it a person?
Was it an animal?
Am I not alone?
He quickened his pace and slowly his walk turned into a jog and then a sprint. His mind was spinning with questions when he finally turned the corner towards the sound. Wilbur's eyes were wide with curiosity when they slowly morphed into shock and then an expression that said: ”Thank Primes, I was almost about to have a panic attack”.
Wilbur was relieved because right in front of him stood two other wide-eyed people. They both stared at Wilbur and Wilbur stared at them. They just stood there for a solid 15 seconds, nobody moved.
Wilbur was the first to break eye contact, he eyed the broken phone in the hands of the shorter one. He had shoulder-length blond hair and blue eyes, it faintly reminded him of Tommy but those thoughts always got shoved to the back of his mind. His hair was sticking up in all of the wrong places as if he had been pulling it (Wilbur didn’t doubt that he had, especially because of the current predicament they were in), emeralds hung from his ears, this guy was definitely not from the outskirts.
The second guy was…so fucking big, like what the hell, he wasn’t even particularly tall but he just had so many…muscles. It looked like his bicep was thicker than Wilbur’s thigh but he had always been skinny. The guy had waist-length pink hair that was tied into a neat braid and was eyeing him suspiciously.
What was this guy’s problem?
“Erm…are you okay?” Wilbur’s question broke the silence and echoed through the walls of the street, it was probably the only sound to be heard for miles.
“Who are you?” The second guy’s voice was the most menacing voice he had ever heard, its gruff tone was enough to send a shiver aching down his spine.
“I could say the same to you.”
They just stood there, sizing each other up. To be honest, Wilbur definitely did not think that he could survive five seconds against him, but his brain somehow decided he could. The second guy was studying him like he was a fucking maths problem.
Is he okay?
The guy with the blonde hair had been quiet during the standoff, nervous energy radiated off him. He now decided that this was the perfect time for introductions.
“Hi mate, I’m Phil. Don’t mind Techno, he’s just a bit…wary of strangers.”
Suddenly the situation he was in came back to his mind. Oh yeah, everyone had disappeared and the people in front of him were the only 2 people he had come across in a while. How did he forget that?
“Do you know what’s going on? Where has everyone gone? I am fucking freaking out so please tell me something good or else I will have a mental breakdown right here on the floor.” Phil looked a little surprised by his outburst but Wilbur couldn’t find it in himself to care. The second guy (Techno?) just looked bored, there was no emotion in his eyes at all.
Wilbur couldn’t read him and it was driving him mad, Primes this guy got on his nerves.
“Listen, mate, we’re just as confused as you are,” That wasn’t what Wilbur wanted to hear, Primes he was hoping for answers, anything that would explain the situation but no. He had to have gone and found the two people that didn’t know. “ We have no signal but that doesn’t matter now,” Phil glanced down at his broken phone, the screen covered in cracks.” And we don’t know where everyone’s gone but…maybe we could look together.”
Wilbur was freaking out. His already clammy hands began to sweat profusely, his breathing quickened and his legs were definitely not stable.
“Erm…w-what do you mean?” He managed to croak out, Primes he couldn’t even speak properly.
“Listen, I know you're freaking out, I am too,” Phil didn’t look scared much less like he was ‘freaking out’. "but maybe we could, I don’t know, team up.” Immediately as Phil said that Techno’s eyes betrayed his emotionless demeanour, giving a disagreeable glance to Phil.
Wilbur took a minute to think about his offer, there was an obvious advantage to it, he had protection from whatever was happening right now, they were more likely to survive as a group and he had someone to talk to so he doesn't lose his fucking mind. But they could also be psychopaths who were going to sacrifice him and then eat him. So Wilbur did not know what to do.
Obviously, he knew that it was highly unlikely that these strangers were going to eat him but you can never be too sure.
Phil noticed Wilbur’s frustration and his features softened “You don’t have to come with us, I just thought that it could benefit all of us if we stuck together.”
“Yeah I know, I just… how do I know you're not going to eat me?”
Phil laughed at that but in Wilbur’s mind it was a serious question and he frowned.
“I can assure you… wait what’s your name?”
“My name is…Wilbur” He really didn’t want to give these people his name, he wanted to keep his personal information, thank you very much. His name couldn't hurt though.
The guy next to Phil snorted, not bothering to hide his amusement.
“What?” Primes this guy is confusing.
“Sorry,” He didn’t look sorry at all. "But, who’s called Wilbur anymore?”
“I am, dickhead. What’s your name anyway because it can’t just be Techno. If it is, that's a dumber name than mine.” Techno immediately became red, his cheeks were flushed and his feet seemed to be the most interesting thing to him.
He looked up with the same bored look and deadpan eyes, straightened his shoulders and bore into Wilbur’s head.
“Technoblade.”
"Bless you."
"No, my name dickhead."
"Your name is… Technoblade?" That's even worse.
Wilbur couldn’t stifle his laughter.
________________
The one thing Wilbur did know was that Phil and Technoblade were weird. They had matching jewellery, like fucking 11-year-old girls. At least they mostly kept to themselves, Phil asked the odd question like: Do you have any signal? Where are you from?... all that crap. There was one thing that Wilbur absolutely despised and it was small talk. Why did people have to ask about the fucking weather, just keep to yourself and shut up. It’s not hard; Wilbur was doing it right now.
Until he wasn’t.
Wilbur had always been lanky, taller than everybody else, even in childhood he towered over everyone else, this meant he was much more prone to tripping up.
As Wilbur fell he let out a screech.
Primes he was so fucking clumsy.
He was on the floor, leg in hand and a smug Technoblade looming over him
“Be careful, wouldn’t want us losing our lookout.” He said, with a stupid fucking smirk on his face, Wilbur would love to punch it.
“I’m not that tall.”
“You’re a lighthouse.” Techno then offered his hand reluctantly. This was the first time Wilbur noticed just how much jewellery Techno had on. There was only a slither of skin that wasn’t covered with a gold ring, Primes he was rich. The most Wilbur could probably afford was a shitty, knock-off Pandora from a pawn shop and that was stretching it. There was only so much money to be made when you’re either a part-time cashier or your band decided to get back together, for the 5th time in a month.
He glared at Techno’s hand.
Wait.
There was a fucking barcode on his wrist.
Wilbur grabbed Techno’s wrist and examined it, he compared it to his own.
“Do you know what this is?” He looked up expecting an answer from Technoblade or the omniscient Phil but was met with confused stares and gaping mouths.
Phil lifted his wrist, and sure enough, there it was, a near identical bar code to the ones on Wilbur and Techno’s wrists.
“It has to be connected to all of this, right?” Wilbur asked, Primes the silence was deafening.
Phil then finally said something.
“I don’t know.”
Wilbur was frustrated with the blank stares and slowly lifted his hand, grabbed onto Techno and pulled himself up. Actually no, he didn’t pull himself up Techno did, he did it so fast that Wilbur got vertigo. Techno is either really fucking strong- probably very likely- or Wilbur is just very light- also very likely.
He swayed for a bit, vertigo clouding his head for a second, shook it from his mind and strided past Phil and Techno, paying no mind to his twisted ankle, or the phantom itch on his wrist. He could feel Phil and Techno’s eyes on the back of his head and hear soft murmuring from the two.
Wilbur continued to rush forwards, he didn’t bother checking to see if Phil and Techno were still behind him. The sounds of footsteps proved they were although it sounded as if someone was struggling to keep up.
They slowly made their way to the centre of the city, leaving the outskirts behind. The shitty buildings slowly morphed into lavish suburbs with actual proper gardens and fitted windows. Those suburbs then transformed into glass skyscrapers, Primes they looked so fucking fragile. Wilbur had only ever been here twice, the first time was for a job interview, let's just say it didn't go very well. The second time was for a record deal with his band, which also didn’t go very well.
Wilbur skipped (Why was he skipping? He doesn’t know but Primes he could jump high.) past the massive buildings, admiring the way the sunset reflected on the glass. He could get used to this, no one to deal with except Phil and Techno, he could almost just steal shitty chocolates and eat said shitty chocolates whilst sitting on his shitty sofa, watching his shitty TV in his shitty house. It almost didn’t sound as shitty as you might think, just peaceful. But Wilbur wasn’t going to do that; the curiosity about his situation was nearly blinding.
And now Wilbur actually couldn’t see.
Wait, why couldn’t he see? This day was just getting even more confusing.
The bright light vanished, and he slowly regained his vision. His eyesight was covered in black spots, but he could see what was in front of him.
Techno and Phil were beside him, Phil was still blinking the bright light from his eyes but Techno was staring at something in front of him, he was frozen, not even a twitch of a finger. Techno looked shocked.
Why did he look shocked?
Wilbur looked at where Techno was staring, only to find himself equally frozen, curiosity settling itself in his mind, drowning out the terror snaking its way up his neck. Beside him, he heard a gasp from Phil.
Ahead of them was a skyscraper.
This skyscraper was different to the ones that surrounded them.
It illuminated their faces, the neon colours so different to the glass that encircled them.
On the building was a message, the colours almost distracting from its vagueness and ominosity, it said: This Way with an arrow pointing to the right.
What in the actual living fuck!
Since when were there creepy fucking messages likely leading them to their death.
Nope Wilbur was not doing this, not participating, if anyone wanted to kill him, they would have to find him first.
He did not want to die. Yet.
Wilbur took a step back, then another but he failed to take the third one. Techno had a tight grip on his arm and pulled him forwards.
“What the fuck?”
“We’re following it.” Techno deadpans.
“No, we fucking aren't, this is where we get eaten.”
“Come on mate, we have no other choice, are we just going to walk around for the rest of our lives? This is the only lead we have.” Phil said, why was he always so calm? But Primes he was convincing.
Did Wilbur want to walk around for ages, just to find no one? No, not particularly. This was the only opportunity they were going to get. If he gets eaten, so what, it’s not like anyone will miss him.
“Fine. But if we die, I’m blaming you, Phil.”
“That’s fair,” Phil said with a nod of his head. Wilbur didn’t think it was fair, he was being unreasonable, but he didn’t give two shits.
Phil gave him a small smile, why was he trying to be nice? All they had to do was tolerate each other, not be friends.
Maybe if they follow the arrow Wilbur could get away from them, away from the awkward small talk and frequent glances they gave him. Away from the small smiles that just seemed forced, at least Techno didn’t do that. Techno probably doesn’t like social interactions. Judging by the second glance he gave to his palm when he pulled Wilbur up from the floor and the pleading looks he gives Phil when forced into a conversation. He was so fucking awkward, Wilbur almost found it annoying.
Almost.
He had once been that awkward, avoiding everyone other than Tommy. Tommy was easy to talk to, but now he is hard to think about.
Techno strode past Wilbur and Phil in the direction of the arrow.
Okay then.
Wilbur followed him, he struggled to keep up with him despite his long legs. Phil followed close behind. They didn’t speak, they preferred the quiet. Silence was always welcome, in Wilbur’s mind, he was used to it, ever since Tommy…left. Wilbur never really had anyone to talk to. He avoided his friends and never went outside, it was kind of depressing, but that's what happens when you’re, well, depressed. Silence almost felt like a home for him, it was so familiar.
But then, the silence stopped.
Techno’s ears shifted (how could ears shift?) and he stopped walking.
Well, that was rude.
Who just fucking stops when they're walking?
Wilbur walked into Techno’s back. It was as if Wilbur bounced. Techno didn’t even fucking move.
Phil let out a huff behind him, and Wilbur glared at him.
Techno eyed the direction of the arrow. He then took off running.
“Hey! Wait!” Wilbur scrambled up from the floor. Phil had already started following Techno, and the two men became smaller and smaller.
“Shit.” Wilbur ran.