Archive of Our Own ^beta

Coming back to life was the best thing that had ever happened to Wilbur, followed closely by discovering that Quackity now had a whole new city to himself and, therefore, it was in line with his values to do everything in his power to piss him off.

With Ranboo by his side, the opening of the Wilburger Ranvan went smoothly. They’d made sure that the wheels of their stationary vehicle were at least a couple of blocks off from the border of Las Nevadas, and did some snooping to find out what the menu of their competitors was so that they could blatantly copy it with some improvements (he was planning to put some addictive substances in their version). As usual, Wilbur’s strategy was infallible.

The only problem with his master plan was that it hinged on having someone by his side who could cook. Ranboo had tried to demonstrate their capabilities, but, somehow, they’d ended up with a cake made of spaghetti when trying to create a burger. It defied all logic, but it happened, and they swiftly discarded the idea of the teen ever being allowed into the kitchen again. Wilbur worked as a temporary solution, but since he could not taste, everything he made was bland and either burnt or undercooked.

Thankfully, Wilbur knew that his little brother would be visiting him soon. After the fight he and Quackity had dragged him into, Tommy had needed some time for himself to decompress. But, after a few days of self-imposed isolation, he was good to go!

Tommy wasn’t a spectacular cook either (he’d never had anyone to teach him), but he was passable. There was no doubt in Wilbur’s mind that, with his little brother in the back of the van, and he and Ranboo out front chatting up their potential customers, their new business venture would be a success. And, since their rival had barely just opened up shop, it shouldn’t have been hard for them to outshine him; he didn’t have a loyal consumer base after all, so they just needed to do exactly what Quackity was doing but better.

He had a crystal clear vision of their future that shattered in an instant when he explained it to Tommy.

“Sorry, Big Dubs, Tubbo’s just started working at the Tubburger joint in Las Nevadas. I can’t work for his competition. Not when I know this is very important for him. He was talking about new beginnings and healing, and that’s the most I’ve heard him even tangentially mention his emotional well-being in my life” was his little brother’s explanation on why he couldn’t stand by his side as he’d always done. He had also added something about how the idea of being in a van meant to piss off The Man, yet again reminded him a bit too much of L’Manburg and strongly implied that he wasn’t comfortable with taking part in a reenactment of history. But Wilbur knew him, and he could tell that he was using what had to be light discomfort at best as a shield.

The truth of the matter was that Tommy was choosing Tubbo over him, and he wouldn’t stand for it.

In the past, Wilbur had never had to worry about being a lower priority to his little brother than anybody else. He knew where they stood in regard to each other. They both did. Tommy could have left during Pogtopia; there probably had been days when he’d wanted to, but he didn’t. Because the dread of leaving his older brother alone to rot in that ravine was worse than any happiness he could have gone on to find. Where had that thoughtfulness gone? When had their dynamic shifted? And why?

Regardless of what the answer to those questions was, Wilbur knew his little brother well enough to know that, while he could be stubborn, he also crumpled very easily if one knew where to push. It was perhaps not the most morally sound thing to do for him to emotionally manipulate Tommy to solve the silliest of conflicts, but he already knew he was going to Hell after dying; he’d literally been there already, so what was the point in trying only now to be a better man than he was?

“Come now, Tommy, don’t be like that. This is gonna be good for everyone! Don’t you know that competition breeds progress? Have I taught you nothing?” he picked his words to sting a bit, but not be outright insults. A couple of jabs always helped get his little brother more emotional, and that usually also meant that he was more agreeable. His intelligence wasn’t a point of pride for him; it had never been, so attacking that wasn’t the point. Treating him like a child was.

For good measure, he leaned against him, elbow on his head (that had been a lot easier to do when he hadn’t had his growth spurt yet; now he needed to stand on a block to reach that same dwarfing effect), and affectionately poked his puffed-up cheeks.

Clearly irritated, Tommy swatted him away, then turned around to glare at him while crossing his arms. However, instead of taking on the obvious challenge and buckling under the pressure, he remained firm in his refusal. “I’m not helping” he reiterated. “I wanna support Tubbo. I know that you don’t care about it, you’ve made it abundantly clear, but we’ve been through some really tough times, and we need to stick together”. He was right about that. Wilbur didn’t care about his relationship troubles. As long as he wasn’t involved, why should he have? “And I’m not gonna fuck that up by joining your pitiful attempt at reliving your glory days. You can have your midlife crisis without me. I’m sure Ranboo will be a great replacement anyway”.

Done with his scathing commentary, Tommy tried to leave, but Wilbur moved faster. He snatched up his wrist and held him firm in place.

Wilbur knew that he was physically weaker. If his little brother had truly wanted to get free, he could have. But Tommy had never been good at saying no to his requests, even the unspoken ones, and he dreaded the thought of him getting hurt more than anything. Especially after his last dramatic exit. 

Perhaps that was the issue. Instead of phrasing his proposition as a request, he’d come out of the gate assuming that his little brother would be joining him. He didn’t give him the illusion of choice, and Tommy had chosen the most inconvenient time to finally have his rebellious teen phase. Yeah, that had to be it.

“Come on, please? I need you. Having Ranboo around isn’t the same. We haven’t had enough time to form as strong a bond as the one I have with you” his tone had shifted from the sharp one he’d used before to get a rise out of Tommy to a softer and more subdued one. He wasn’t begging, Wilbur would have never lowered himself to that, but he was trying to appeal to his brother’s ego. To his desperate need to be wanted. To his desire to be useful. Of course, he also sprinkled in a hint of something he knew the younger was insecure about, and that was Ranboo’s role in the lives of those he loved.

Wilbur didn’t mind Ranboo. They were a good kid with some odd morals, but, hey, far be it from him to judge! But it wasn’t hard to see where they’d started filling in some Tommy-shaped roles. They followed Phil and Techno around like a lost puppy, with nothing but awe in their eyes, much like the blond had when he was younger. And, from what he’d heard, they’d even married Tubbo! And they possibly had a kid together? Or a pet? He wasn’t sure; he’d gotten bored by the time Ranboo had gotten to explaining that part of their life.

They were liked by everyone, they were known to be well-behaved and polite, and they were never too much. Forgettable would have been Wilbur’s way of describing them. They lacked his little brother’s brightness, his bigger-than-life personality, and his at times arrogant demeanor. They were devoid of any charm. Although that made them more appealing to the masses, so, clearly, it was working out for them.

So, by emphasizing that he wouldn’t be replacing Tommy with Ranboo and leaving an unspoken ‘yet’ hanging in the air, he was adding some much-needed stakes to that conversation. It was the kind of pressure that had time and time again brought his little brother to his knees in the past.

“Then spend more time with them? What do you want me to do about it?” Tommy asked, confused instead of defensive, as Wilbur had expected. He didn’t even seem bothered by the idea of being replaced. Either he’d changed drastically from the mess of insecurities he'd known him to be as a child, or that particular implication had flown over his head.

Wilbur hoped it was the latter, so he pushed again just to verify his theory. “I really don’t want to have to replace you…” he said with a mournful sigh.

“Then don’t? You could just do something new, you know? You don’t have to just repeat your past mistakes until they get you killed again”. With that, Tommy yanked his arm free. “Anyway, I’m gonna go see Tubbo. It’s close to his lunch break, and I promised him we’d eat together. Have fun figuring your shit out. Feel free to write me when you have” he saluted, and ran.

Wilbur was baffled.

Never before had his little brother won one of their arguments. He was more upset about that than actually being left to man the grill by himself yet again.

And for what? Because he and Tubbo needed to mend their friendship? It was bullshit!

He was certain that, eventually, Tommy would realize he’d made a mistake by prioritizing Tubbo over him, and then he’d be crawling back to his side, begging for Wilbur’s mercy. And he would let him, but not without some serious work on his part.

That day, it is said that the aura emanating from the Wilburger Ranvan was so foul that not a single person approached it. Thanks to that, the business at Tubburger’s was booming. Wilbur took that as yet another slight against him. Meanwhile, Tommy was just happy to see his best friend thriving again after so long.