Chapter Text
[Tubbo]
The foggy night seemed to swallow up Tubbo with every step he took. A few meters away, he could hear laughter and the muffled sound of distant conversations coming from the taverns lined up on the docks of the port. And much closer, just behind him, he could hear his pursuers.
Despite being nothing more than a fourteen-year-old kid against multiple adults, he had the advantage of knowing the ground. These streets, he already crossed them hundreds of times, during his walks or games with Tommy. He knew every junction, every blind alley : this cobblestone maze was his home.
And yet, Tubbo was frightened. In the opaque darkness, panic disrupted his train of thought, walls merged into each other, their outlines melting in the air. And when he can’t see them clearly, the buildings feels like a trap closing on him as he throws himself in it head first.
Out of breath, he skidded in an intersection and entered the Covered Passage. Beneath his bare feet, the tiles were colder than stone. A few seconds later, the click of shoes on the floor indicated to the boy they followed him inside.
The Covered Passage was dimly lit by a few torches embedded in the wall, and Tubbo turned quickly to see his pursuers. Three or four masked men wrapped in hooded cloaks which looked like they were to float around the men as they ran. The glow of the flames casted dancing shadows that clung to their silhouettes.
Tubbo didn't have time to see more because a moment later, he stumbled, toppled over , and rolled until his back hit the wall. Dazed, a stinging pain immediately spread through his spine, and Tubbo had to force himself to raise an arm towards his assaulters despite the dizziness caused by the shock.
The air shook and solidified around his fingers, and the men probably noticed since they executed a movement of retreat. However, Tubbo saw no fear or surprise in their gesture, and his bad feeling only growed. Teeth clenched, he sent a shock wave in their direction, and they dodged with far too much ease for regular citizens.
The next moment, they were on him. They grabbed, stretched and blocked his arms to prevent any attempt to attack again, and before he could scream a hand came to press uncomfortably against his mouth. Soon, he saw nothing but the masks and the swirling capes, and then the blackness of the night caught him, and he sank in it, swallowed up.
[Wilbur]
Song suggestion : Golden Brown (Golden brown, texture like sun)
"It's getting dark."
"I know."
"Night's gonna fall."
"I know."
"The Patrol could start at any moment."
"Five more minutes," Wilbur grunted, not taking his binoculars away from his eyes.
Niki sighed, sitting on the edge of the roof to let her legs dangle in the air while Wilbur kept scanning the streets below. Under the golden light of the sun going down, the usually dirty and unpleasant Low Quarters were borrowing a sweeter appearance. Wilbur saw the traders closing their clandestine shops, set up in abandoned buildings ; the teenagers running, in a hurry to disappear inside the alleys, and soon enough the place emptied. Above their heads, a few seagulls circled lazily, flying in the sky between the harbor and its surroundings in hope to find a trash can full of remains to strip - wasted effort, most had already been found by the street urchin like them.
"Dead body on street number seven, to the west," Wilbur called in a tense voice.
"Show me ?" Niki asked.
He slipped the binoculars into her hands, and she stared at the indicated spot for several seconds. Several seconds of anguish, where Wilbur nervously played with the seams of his shirt. He wasn't afraid of the body, but who it could belong to. Finally, Niki shook her head.
"The body is barely a week old, clearly not a month. It's not Tubbo."
Wilbur sighed in relief, but the frustration was still there. A month. A month of searching, and they still hadn't found the tiniest hint about what happened to the boy. Simply searching the city wasn't enough, they needed someone with the Dreèn.
"Let's get the fuck out of here now, before the soldiers arrive," he decided reluctantly, slipping his binoculars into his patched-up leather bag. Another fruitless day, he thought as he adjusted the strap.
He and Niki carefully climbed down. Wilbur hung on the edge and let himself fall onto the second-floor balcony, then the first, and landed on the ground with almost no sound.
Tommy and Sally immediately stopped their conversation, the blond boy turning to Wilbur with a hopeful face, but quickly understood from the older’s resigned look. Sally pressed a comforting hand to his shoulder.
"Maybe tomorrow," she murmured gently.
Maybe tomorrow, that's what they'd been saying for a while now.
"Don't mean to rush you guys, but we really gotta go," Niki said, falling next to him. She was right, they took too much time under Wilbur's insistence.
"I totally agree, but we have a little problem," grimaced Sally.
"Green Lake members. We heard them walking by nearby," Tommy added.
Fuck.
Wilbur bit the inside of his cheeks, annoyed, weighing their options. The day was starting to fade, so it really wasn't the right time for rival gang members to interfere in their business by encroaching on their territory. Staying out this late was dangerous. But on the other hand, letting Spiral Lake wander here was dangerous too. They’d been allowing themselves more and more things recently ; Wilbur had heard about a reserve being broken into on Redegg’s territory, and he had a sneaking suspicion about who did it. If they wanted to keep their image, they had to make sure they didn't let anyone walk all over them. It was a risk worth taking.
The Patrol was unlikely to start now, right ? There was no exact time, and they couldn't let such disrespect go without reacting.
"We take care of them as quickly as we can and then hurry home," he decided. “Come on."
Disc Drugs was a gang without any real hierarchy ; Wilbur or Techno would sometimes take charge of operations when they needed organization, but everyone had their word to say, and every word had the same weight.
Green Lake was different : each member strictly followed the orders of their superior, who themself had a superior, who themself had one. And at the top, there was Dream.
They reached the alley, half-dark, stinking due to some crates full of fish stacked against the wall. Tommy remained glued to his brother, casting nervous glances around him. He was a fearless, loud and confident teenager, but for some reason, he had always seemed almost afraid of Dream.
Three figures were standing at the end, and of course one of them was Dream. His damaged wooden mask screwed to his face as usual, he turned to them as soon as they arrived. Behind him, Wilbur could see his two sidekicks, the ones following him everywhere ; he didn't remember ever seeing them separated.
"Got lost, Dream ? Or you’re coming to piss against the walls like a dog hoping to mark its territory ?" Wilbur spat without giving him time to open his mouth.
Strike first. Protect the others. Play with fire, let it go just before getting burned and trample the flame to put it out.
"Don't think everyone has the same habits as you, The Fox." Dream retorted, tilting his head oddly to the side.
"Not everyone, just little shits like you. This is our territory."
Dream clenched his jaw, and seeing how quickly things were escalating, Wilbur discreetly felt his pocket. No penknife. If things got out of hand, he would have to rely on something else. And behind Dream, his friends were also getting agitated.
"You have the majority of the bars," interjected Sapnap . "That's not fair."
"I'm not here to make it fair, this isn't a courthouse. And there are plenty of other places where you can get drunk in town."
"Maybe, but most of them are on the harbor !" he persisted.
"Which belongs to us, whether you like it or not."
Wilbur was trying to keep the firm demeanor he had seen in Techno and admired so much. A way of being and speaking that allowed him to keep control on the turn of events just with his voice. But Techno always had his fists as a last resort, Wilbur didn't. Well, at least the boy had someone else's fists.
"You're just a sixteen-year-old kid like me. Don't try to play tough," snapped Dream, who apparently saw clearly through his game. "If we come with other members, it won't be hard to dislodge you from your old shacks."
"It's not as easy as you think, we also have some assets."
Dream laughed wickedly.
"Do you take me for an idiot, The Fox ? All the gangs around here know that your Dreènsker disappeared. It was your guarantee of protection, but now anyone can fall on you at any time."
Wilbur's blood boiled at the barely disguised threat, and he took a step forward. But apparently his gesture overflowed the tension that hung over them, and was received as a sign of aggression. Immediately George, who had remained silent during the exchange, threw himself on him. Wilbur saw a fist heading towards his face before being pulled back. In a flash of red hair, George found himself on the ground, Sally leaned over him. She hit him hard enough to break his nose, which started to bleed profusely.
"Next time you try to touch my brother, I'll put my fist down your throat." she spat furiously.
It was Sapnap who reacted first, rushing toward the girl, but losing his balance when she adroitly dodged. Dream helped his companion up and the two groups mutually eyed, ready to jump at each other's throats.
Wilbur thought fast. Sally could easily take care of George and Sapnap, and with Niki he could maybe beat Dream. But they also had to protect Tommy at the same time.
Maybe he could order him to run away so he could fight without having to worry about him. But there was the risk of drawing attention to the blond boy.
It was a shrill, omnipresent noise that interrupted his thoughts. The alarm raised throughout the neighborhood, creeping into the streets and filling the air. It was the Horn. Everyone froze. Damn it , this wasn't supposed to happen this early , Wilbur swore. They weren't supposed to be out during the Patrol, especially not with Tommy.
"Disperse !" Dream shouted and he ran away.
His words were barely discernible under the din in their ears, but everyone understood. Wilbur rushed into a narrower alley, seeing in the corner of his eye Niki pulling Sally by the hand in the opposite direction, and Tommy already out of sight.
Wilbur didn't believe in Prime, but for a moment he prayed that nothing would happen to his little brother.
The alley was unpleasantly damp, but narrow enough that the soldiers wouldn't have the motivation to search it. Wilbur pressed himself against the dirty wall whose uneven surface dug into his back. The sound of the foghorn had died down, giving way to an equally terrifying silence. As he managed to calm his breathing, the calm returned, until hurried footsteps approached. Wilbur huddled a little more on himself as if he could blend into the shadows. A rather stupid way to die than to let a piece of arm or leg stick out , he thought. The footsteps passed without slowing down.
Then they turned around.
Wilbur's heart skipped a beat, but rather than stopping in front of his alley, they continued before stopping again. Wilbur couldn't see anything from here, but by paying attention, he could hear that all things considered, it didn't sound like the footsteps of a soldier. Less aggressive, more discreet. Cautiously, Wilbur risked a glance, and instead of a soldier, he discovered the hesitant silhouette of a teenager. What the hell was he doing there ? Wilbur frowned; he knew most of the inhabitants of the Low Quarters, especially the young ones, and yet this one was an unknown face.
He hesitated : here, it was every man for himself, and he had no reason to help him. But beyond that, if the teenager remained exposed like this, he would draw attention not only to himself but also to Wilbur. So, reluctantly, he waited for the boy to pass by again, and plunged his hand out of the alley to grab his arm and pull him towards him. He yelped like a frightened animal, and Wilbur didn't give him the opportunity to make more noise, holding him against the wall with a hand pressed against his mouth.
Oddly enough, he barely struggled, which only made Wilbur’s suspicions increase. In the Low Quarters, you had to strike first, everyone knew that. Everyone except this boy, apparently, who stood there motionless.
In the shadows of the alley, all Wilbur could make out of him was a guy his age with messy black hair shoved under a flat cap ; and clothes similar to his own—cheap pants and a shirt, except for a brown jacket that seemed too big for his small frame. Wilbur didn't have time to dwell on the details, because a bunch of loud noises reached his ears. This time, there was no doubt : it was the Patrol, shouting orders and fanning out around the perimeter. Several angry footsteps passed by them. And the wait began.
Time passed horribly slowly, between the confined space and the noise of the soldiers around them. Wilbur had been able to free the boy's mouth after a moment, once he was certain that the latter had understood their situation, and soon he realized that the only possible distraction was to observe him - for what he could see in the darkness.
The boy seemed, even stuck in a narrow place, to be in perpetual motion. Putting back a lock of hair that fell in his eyes, tapping his fingers on his arm, shivering now and then since the night began to fall and the air, to cool down. It was as if he would die if he did not stop, even more agitated than Tommy. Wilbur was both annoyed and curious.
Because after having scrutinized him for such a long time, Wilbur was sure of it : there was something wrong with him. He could tell just by how he stood : in a way Wilbur couldn't explain, the boy seemed to be the absolute opposite of him, and completely detached from the dirty and poor places of the city.
After what felt an eternity, the sound of the Horn rang a second time, signaling the end of the Patrol. Even once they were certain that they were out of danger, neither of them moved, perhaps waiting for the other to make the first move. Wilbur suddenly realized that he was far from the others, in a cramped space with a stranger who could be a threat. And even if he looked perfectly harmless, Wilbur knew full well that you had to be wary of appearances, especially when your life was on the line.
Finally, the boy moved first, releasing the tension in his shoulders. He glanced at Wilbur, then slinked out of the alley. Wilbur realized a second later and hurried after him, cursing under his breath. He caught him by the wrist at the end of the street, under the streetlamp, and finally he could see him.
He was his age, but soft features made him look slightly younger. His hair was reminiscent of a raven's plumage, each spike a badly preened feather. His eyes were dark, not dark brown but black, Wilbur had never seen that before. And under the golden glow of the street lamp, he could see the cloud of freckles, pale and discreet, that ran across his cheeks.
"Who the fuck are you ?" was the first question that came to his mind. The boy freed himself from Wilbur’s grip and rubbed his wrist, looking displeased. He's exaggerating, I barely touched him , Wilbur thought.
"It seems to me that this does not concern you in any way," the boy replied, scornful, and Wilbur almost burst out laughing.
"What's with that way of talking?" he asked, a smile on his lips but his brow furrowed, half wondering if the boy was joking.
His remark earned him a glare.
"I could ask you the same question. What do you want from me ? Who are you ?"
Wilbur raised his hands in a peace sign, his expression turning serious again.
"Wilbur Soot. Member of Disc Drugs. I know everyone here. Normally."
"Alexandre," the boy replied.
"Alexandre what ?"
"Just Alexandre."
"Okay, just Alexandre . Care to explain to me how we've never crossed paths ?"
"I'm passing through, I travel all the time," Alexandre defended himself, and Wilbur noted his aggressive behavior, too much to not be suspicious.
Not to mention, he didn't know about the Patrol.
"Where are you from?"
"The North."
Wilbur rolled his eyes.
"Where exactly ? What city?"
"You want a detailed map and three paragraphs of me introducing myself, with that ?" Alexandre scoffed, clearly determined to be insufferable. Wilbur gritted his teeth, equally annoyed.
"If you want to survive here for the duration of your stay, here's a word of advice. Don't hang around outside at this hour."
Alexandre hesitated.
"What was that?"
"The Patrol. Have you never heard of them ?"
"Vaguely. I thought it was just a simple patrol of soldiers."
"Who told you that?" Wilbur asked.
Alexandre shrugged, and Wilbur knew he wouldn't get any more information.
"It's more dangerous than that. Some sort of daily purge to flush out the street kids. So there aren't too many of us, and so we know the High Quarters are in charge. They want us to know our place," Wilbur rattled off, almost spitting the last part.
"The High Quarters do that ?" the boy choked in a strangled voice.
The light, quick footsteps coming down toward them stopped Wilbur before he could answer.
"Wilby !" Tommy called, "Wilby, where are you ?"
Alexandre jumped in surprise, and started to back away. This time, Wilbur didn't stop him, and they exchanged one last look before Alexandre's silhouette faded into the night, just as a tuft of blond hair appeared around the corner. Wilbur tore his gaze away from the shadows, checking to see if Tommy was okay. No scratches and he still looked as energetic as usual ; good thing.
"Niki and Sally already left," he warned.
"You should have done the same," Wilbur grunted, grabbing his hand and gently pulling him behind him. He turned around one last time, but his eyes met only the still shadows of the buildings, with no boys hiding inside.
"I just wanted to make sure it was okay for you," Tommy defended himself.
"But it's dangerous."
"You're doing it for me too."
Wilbur rolled his eyes, but didn't reply.
On the way back, his mind was still focused on the raven boy. Wilbur never spoke to kids his age outside of Disc Drugs. He almost wished it would last longer, if the boy wasn't so condescending.
"You okay ?" he asked Tommy after a moment of silence.
He felt him nod behind his back.
"I'm a big boy. I'm not afraid of the Patrol."
"We never got caught out by time when you were here before. Sorry."
"It's okay, Wilby. Everyone's fine. And it's not like you're responsible for us."
"Of you, I am."
"And I'm ALIVE! And I'll be tomorrow, and next week, and months from now, so stop putting yourself under pressure like that."
Easy for him to say, Wilbur thought. He still felt like the entire responsibility of the group weighed on his shoulders, even without being the leader. They were his friends, they were his family, and he'd never forgive himself if anything happened to any member of Disc Drugs. Especially Tommy.
As they pushed open the door of the Shack, a wave of warmth greeted them immediately.
"Close the door quickly," Niki warned, kneeling by the chimney's cave where a few embers were dueling with the logs to stay lit.
"Is the chimney working?" Tommy exclaimed, rushing over and crouching down with his eyes shining.
Tina appeared in the doorway, her face half-stained with soot.
"I spent half the day on the roof unclogging it, but I swear to Prime, it was worth it," she sighed, sinking into one of the old, battered armchairs with satisfaction.
Fundy, crouching on the floor, looked up at Wilbur.
"It's late," he remarked in a whisper. Patrol?"
Wilbur noded, tossing his bag aside and dropping it on the floor.
"If you were dead, I would have kicked your ass," Tina warned.
"I'm pretty sure you meant 'if you were dead, I would have cried a lot,'" Niki retorted.
Tina shrugged.
"Maybe. And while I was crying, Techno would have kicked your ass."
"He'll want to do it even if we don't die," Tommy grumbled. "I'm going to hide here until he forgets that I almost got caught by soldiers."
Wilbur left them to talk, probably trying to relieve the tension, and went back to the kitchen.
"Need help?" he asked Hannah, leaning on the counter.
"I'm doing good," she replied, shaking her head no, before victoriously brandishing the jar of spices she was looking for. "Techno wanted to talk to you, tho."
Wilbur whines, dejected. For the past month, whenever Techno "wanted to talk to him," it was always a long speech about how reckless they were, how they were exposing themselves too much, how dangerous it was to put so much effort into finding Tubbo. And considering the time he was coming home, he was probably going to get a long lecture - Techno style, with shouting.
"You shouldn't blame him, he's just worried," Hannah added. "And he's not entirely wrong. It's rare for you to be reckless enough to the point you end up outside during a Patrol."
"Exactly. It's rare. Techno's too much on my back," he grumbled.
So it was with not much enthusiasm that Wilbur climbed the stairs and pushed open the office door.
The office was the place for the important and the serious, where they sometimes met, but also where Techno spent most of his time, enjoying the solitude.
"Techno, listen," Wilbur immediately sighed, "It's really late tonight, we can talk about this another time."
"I'm not here to talk to you about Tubbo or the stupid risks you're taking," Techno cut him off as he sat down at the desk.
"Oh."
Wilbur sat down on the chair opposite him, put his arms in front of him and waited for the rest.
"Fundy found a good plan, a wealthy officer from the High Quarters who is looking for a team to do security during a ball."
"How many people?"
"Four. You, Tommy, Sally. Plus Niki who will keep an eye on everything from afar and guide you if necessary. I'll give her the building plans to memorize tonight."
"When is it ?"
"Tomorrow night. Focus on the valuables, because you won't have any bags. Take only what you can keep on you discreetly."
"If we do manage to get hired, how do we sneak out from our post to walk around and rob them ?"
"They want at least two people to watch the doors. The third will be free to move around, you will alternate and take turns to take care of a place. And don't worry about whether you get hired or not. Fundy and his 'official' stamps work miracles."
Wilbur sank back in his chair.
"Niki is going to have a hard time learning the plan so quickly."
"That's her role," Techno replied with a shrug.
"You're not giving us enough time to get ready."
"You'll be fine. Your outfits are already rented."
Wilbur straightened up suddenly.
"But you didn't even know if we were going to accept !" he protested, watching Techno head for the door.
"Of course I did," Techno laughed. "Of course I did."