Archive of Our Own ^beta

Wilbur pressed himself against Phil’s side anxiety set in his posture.  Someone brushed past his shoulder and he had to stop for a second to collect himself, otherwise, he would’ve flickered invisible.  Wilbur clenched his jaw and wrapped his arms around his torso. 

“You’re okay,” Phil put his hand on Wilbur’s arm.  Wilbur pressed his lips into a thin line.

“Couldn’t we have chosen a less busy time?” Wilbur asked, he clenched his hands into fists, tilting his hat further over his face to shield his skin from the sun.  

“What better way to learn than the busiest time of day,” Phil chuckled weakly.  He hadn’t anticipated there to be this many people and he had even taken Wilbur to a town farther out so it wouldn’t be as busy.  But just his luck after all.  

It was weird seeing Wilbur all dressed up, covering almost all of his skin.  He wore a loose tanish sweater and a large hat with a wide rim that shielded his face.  His sweater was tucked into his pants and Wilbur had tucked his tail into his sweater.  Unfortunately, they didn’t have access to any gloves to hide the webbing between his fingers so Phil had attempted to wrap his hands in bandages to make it seem at least somewhat convincing.

All of this was to make sure that Wilbur was able to blend in if the need ever arose.  If something had happened and Phil was unable to go into town then Wilbur could go into town to get needed supplies.

“This isn’t going to work… I’m going to get caught,” Wilbur whispered, shrinking back behind Phil.  Phil took his arm and pulled him up so they were walking next to each other.

“You’ve gotta stop trying to hide behind me, that’s going to make people stare.  The more people that look, then the chances of getting caught is higher,” Phil spoke as low as he could to make sure that Wilbur could still hear, “the biggest thing is you just need to not make a scene.”

Wilbur nodded.  He clutched the strap of his bag tighter, there was still a small bloodstain on the back of it that was never able to wash out.

“We’re gonna stop here and see if we can find some fabrics for cheap,” Phil nodded towards one of the shops, “you let me talk okay, and try not to touch anything.”

Wilbur followed Phil through the door, the hinges creaked loudly and Wilbur nearly jumped out of his skin.  Phil put his hand on his arm to calm him down.

“What can I do for you?” There was an old man sitting behind a desk near the door, he leaned on his elbow and examined both Phil and Wilbur with a scrutinizing gaze.

“Just looking to see what fabrics you have,” Phil said with a small smile.

“Take a look around, but make it quick, the wife is expecting me home soon,” The man said, leaning back in his chair.

“Of course, we won’t be long.”

Wilbur trailed behind Phil, glancing over Phil’s shoulders at a small stock of fabric that Phil examined.  Tommy was starting to outgrow his shirts and Ranboo only had one outfit.

“What about that one?” Wilbur whispered, pointing at a dark blue tinted fabric.  Phil ran the fabric between his fingers and tugged on it gently.

“Yeah, it should be easy to work with,” Phil nodded.

“You interested in that one?” The man asked, walking out from around the desk.  He looked over Phil’s shoulder at the dark blue fabric.  Phil held his wings tighter to his back.  Wilbur shuffled away from the man Phil could see the twitch of his tail from under his shirt.

“Think so, four yards should be good.  How much?” Phil stepped aside to let the man access the skein of fabric.

“8 gold for it all,” The man said, measuring out the fabric.

Wilbur stepped away from Phil for a moment to look at the other fabrics.  There weren't a lot of different types and it was mostly darker earth-colored shades apart from the blue.  Because of the bandages on his fingers, Wilbur couldn’t feel the fabric but they looked soft, Ranboo would like it.

He shifted his hat again, it kept getting caught on his horns and shifting uncomfortably. 

“It’s polite for a young man to take his hat off when entering a building,” The man noted, nodding his head towards Wilbur.  Wilbur jumped and looked at the man with wide eyes, unsure how to respond.

“Well, you wanted it to be a quick visit after all,” Phil interjected with a small laugh, taking a step to the side so he was slightly blocking Wilbur from the other man.

“Of course,” The man waved his hand in a dismissive gesture and folded up the fabric for Phil.  Phil counted out the coins carefully and placed them into the man’s outstretched palm.  Phil gave the fabric to Wilbur for him to hold.

“Let’s go Wil,” Phil said, “Thank you, sir.”

Phil nudged Wilbur’s arm and Wilbur followed Phil out of the shop.  Wilbur clutched the fabric to his chest, almost tripping over a dip in the sidewalk.

“We can go to the market near the square and get some food.  If you’re good I’ll even let you get some candy,” Phil said, a small smile spreading across his face.  The last bit was meant as a tease but he was sure that Wilbur would see something else that he liked in the market.

“I have been good,” Wilbur shuddered, pressing himself closer to Phil.

They nudged through the crowds, people were walking by in all different directions.  Each time someone brushed against Wilbur he jumped and pressed himself as close as possible to Phil without tripping the older man.  Wilbur furrowed his eyebrows, his jaw set with tension.

His grip on the fabric tightened as he quickly scanned the streets.  Phil was unable to gauge what he was thinking.

“Phil,” Wilbur suddenly whispered.

“Yeah?” Phil asked, he tilted his head to the side curiously.  

“This…” Wilbur swallowed thickly, “I… this seems familiar…” his hands were shaking noticeably.

“What do you mean?  Are you okay?” Phil put his hand on Wilbur’s arm, squeezing gently.

“I… yeah… yeah I’m fine it…” Wilbur shook his head, “sorry it’s nothing.”

“Are you sure?” 

Wilbur nodded, “let’s get something that I can bribe Tommy with.”

Wilbur rubbed his eyes, he kept looking around with wide eyes as they walked through the streets.  Someone else that would’ve been looking at him would’ve thought that he was just an outsider intrigued by the different layout of the town or something like that.  But there was something else in his expression that worried Phil.

When they got to the market, Wilbur let out a low whine.  He adjusted his bag, brushing his fingers over the clasp.  Phil looked over at him and frowned.  Neither of them said anything, Wilbur was looking at each stall carefully, staring at the items displayed only for a few seconds before he glanced back at Phil.

“Here Wil, you’ll be able to bribe Tommy for weeks,” Phil said, nudging Wilbur over to a stand selling small pieces of taffy.  They were sold in bags.

“Hm.” Wilbur mumbled, “He’ll be so jealous.”

Phil bought a bag of taffy and gave it to Wilbur to put in the bag that he had.  Wilbur nodded, smiling weakly.  His hands were shaking when he took it from Phil.

The next thing they got was some flour and sugar, not too much so they’d still be able to easily get back home.  They didn’t buy any fruits or vegetables, Phil had faith in the garden that he and Tommy had repurposed.  

They stopped to get some buns that they could eat on the way home and a jar of jam.

Wilbur took a small glance over a stall selling apples and quickly looked away, he stared at his feet, almost running into someone before Phil pulled him away.

“Do we… Do we need anything else?” Wilbur asked, pressing his face into the fabric in his arms.

“I don’t think so, at least not anything here.  We could probably get some more flour but I’d rather get flour at the town closest to home,” Phil said, “We should probably start heading home so we get there before sunset.  I worry about what Tommy and Ranboo have been doing.”

“Right.” 

The crowds were starting to thin out the farther that they got until there were only a few people passing here and there.  Wilbur ducked his head low, his hat slipping in front of his eyes.  

“Wilbur?” A woman's voice called from behind them.  Phil caught Wilbur’s arm, pulling him back as he flickered for a split second.  His eyes widened and the color drained from his face.  

Phil turned to see a short middle-aged lady hurrying towards them, she hiked up her skirts.  When Wilbur finally turned the woman’s expression lit up.  Wilbur’s breath sped up and he took a step back.

“Wil?” Phil asked, furrowing his eyebrows.  

When the woman was close enough she cupped Wilbur’s face in her hands.  Wilbur flinched away, the fabric nearly slipped from his hands.  His tail twitched and flicked back and forth from under his clothes.

“Oh, my baby boy,” The woman’s expression softened, tears running down her face, “Where on earth have you been?  You just ran away and left me, I was so lonely.”

“I…” Wilbur’s eyes darted around, he took a step back, “I… don’t…”

“I’ve been heartbroken this past year or so. I've missed you so much,” The woman reached out again, clearly misinterpreting Wilbur’s expression, “I can’t believe I get to see you again.  When we get home I’m never letting you out of my sight.” She tiled Wilbur’s hat back, brushing his bangs off his forehead.

“Miss… I don’t…” Wilbur choked through his words, tears forming in the corners of his eyes.  His chest constricted painfully.  There was an uncomfortable haze in his mind, something that he knew he should remember was thinly veiled with it.  His heart was racing and he could barely hear anything over the sound of blood rushing in his ears.

“Ma’am I think you may be mistaken,” Phil stepped in, putting his hand on the woman’s shoulder, “I think you’re mistaking us for someone else.”

“Wilbur, who is this?” The woman asked, pulling her hands away from Wilbur.  Wilbur stumbled back again, nearly tripping over his feet.  Her face looked so painfully familiar but the memory seemed to taunt him, standing just out of his reach, and every time he got closer it just seemed to get farther away.

“You must be mistaking my son for someone else,” Phil spoke quickly, stepping between the Woman and Wilbur.  The closer that he looked he noticed uncanny resemblances in the woman’s facial features to Wilbur’s.  The way the corners of her eyes crinkled and the same curly brown hair.  

The woman’s eyes widened, “oh, you…” she stared at Wilbur, “your bag looks so similar to his.  His father made it for him.  It was one of a kind.  You look so similar to him… I just thought...”

She hung her head low, tucking her hair back, “I am so sorry for bothering you two.”

“I’m sorry for what happened to your son,” Phil put his hand on her shoulder and smiled weakly.  

“You two have a nice day,” she wiped the tears out of her eyes, more just fell and took their place.  She didn’t wait for Phil or Wilbur to respond before walking away with her head hung low.  She wrung her hands in front of herself. 

Wilbur dropped down, pressing his back against the cold stone wall of one of the buildings, he pulled his knees up to his chest.  Phil turned quickly and knelt down next to him.  Wilbur buried his face in his arms, the fabric discarded next to him.  Sobs wracked through his body, causing his shoulders to shake.

“Hey, Wil,” Phil spoke softly.

“Phil, I don’t…” Wilbur sobbed.  He curled his fingers tightly around his arms, his nails digging into his skin through the bandages around his hands.  That woman was so familiar but he couldn’t remember.  He should’ve known who she was but he didn’t.  Wilbur gasped for breath, his form flickered and he relished in the lack of feeling that being invisible brought him.

He could barely feel Phil sitting next to him.  Phil was saying something, whispering in a hushed voice that Wilbur couldn’t understand.

This entire town was so familiar but it was just barely out of his reach.  He knew the stone pathways, the walk to the market.  He’d done it before, he’d done it so many times but he couldn’t remember why.  The wind blew through him and he wanted to scream.  How unfair it was.  That woman seemed to recognize him but he had no idea who she was.

“Wilbur, hey, breathe, you’re okay,” Phil sounded so far away.  He pushed back Wilbur’s hat, putting his hand on Wilbur’s shoulder.

Wilbur shook his head and coughed.

“I should’ve… I should’ve known her… I can’t,” Wilbur choked out.  He hissed.  He pushed his hat off, tugging at his hair, his fingers catching on his horns.

“Wil, it’s okay that you don’t remember.  She doesn’t know you anymore, she mistook you for someone else,” Phil said.

“I know this place… I know… It’s so familiar…” 

Phil frowned, realizing much later than he should’ve what town he had taken Wilbur to.  He hadn’t realized how close it was to where they were living.  He mentally smacked himself for not realizing sooner.

“You lived here when you were alive, that’s all I know,” Phil said, Wilbur curled in on himself more.  The only thing that Phil could see of him was his hat.

Wilbur attempted to suck in a deep breath, it came out in a choked cough.  He grit his teeth, growling under his breath.  He curled his fingers tighter around his hair.  He was sobbing dryly now, tears wouldn’t come anymore.

“Why?  Why?  Why?” He asked and didn’t expect an answer.

The farthest back he could remember was waking up in that alleyway over a year ago.  The raw fear he had felt back then and Phil appearing out of nowhere.  He had a childhood, didn’t he?  A past before then?  The more he tried to remember the less he came up with.

“When you died you were reborn, you’re not the same person as when you were alive.  That’s how it works.”

Wilbur’s joints cracked when he shifted, his body ached.  Phil found his hands, carefully prying them away from his hair, untangling his fingers.  Wilbur sobbed when he moved his arms, his elbows had already locked up from being in that position for so long.

Phil hummed under his breath, using one hand to card his fingers through Wilbur’s hair, holding the other one.

“Phil… we have to… I have to… we have to leave…” Wilbur mumbled, he sucked in a sharp breath, “I can’t…”

“You have to let me see you,” Phil said, “we can’t get out of here if you’re a floating hat and bag.”

Wilbur squeezed his eyes shut, listening to Phil humming softly.  He trembled, his breaths catching in his throat.  His form flickered and he felt Phil’s hands more firmly.  He tried to focus on the hand carding through his hair.  His mind kept slipping, kept replaying the woman’s face in his head, how hurt she had been when Phil had stepped in.

Wilbur felt the exhaustion weighing in his bones, at the same time anxiety was still churning in his gut.  He leaned forward, wind blowing his hair in his eyes.  He pressed his face into Phil’s shoulder, his bag had flipped over displaying the bloodstain on the back.

“There you go,” Phil cooed.  He wrapped his arms around Wilbur, curling his fingers around the hair near the nape of his neck.

“I remember… walking the streets of the market… I… I remember the layout… it seems so familiar… I don’t know why I walked there…” Wilbur muttered tears blotted against Phil’s cloak.

“Maybe to get food?”

“To… to get food…” Wilbur whispered, “apples…”

“You had apples in your bag when I found you.”

“I did?”

“Yeah, a bag of them.”

Wilbur sniffled.  

“I wanna go home…” 

“Okay.”

Phil nodded, burying his face in Wilbur’s hair for a second before pulling away.  Wilbur’s face was blotchy and there were tear tracks running down his face.  His eyes were puffy and his hair disheveled.  He looked miserable.  Phil’s heart hurt for him, he knew that there was nothing that he would be able to do to help.  Especially because Phil never knew Wilbur when he was alive, he wouldn’t be able to supply anything for him.

Phil held his hand out, helping Wilbur to his feet.  Wilbur gathered the fabric and hugged it tightly to his chest.  He followed behind Phil, dragging his feet as they walked through the back streets, shaded by the tall buildings to either side of them.  The sun was starting to set, casting a dark shadow over the woods as they walked.

Wilbur only started to relax once the smoke from the chimney of the houses faded from view.

Neither of them said anything as they walked.  They ate the buns that they had bought on the way home.  Wilbur didn’t want to go back to that town.  Everything about it felt wrong, and he especially didn’t want to see that woman again.