Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Honestly, pretty blondes were never much of Wilbur’s style, but he could see the appeal of staring at one on TV all day. The way that the interviewer, whose name he didn’t catch during the rushed pre-show activities, actively moved and talked drew attention. She moved with purpose and grace, with a bold and confident smile. This definitely wasn’t her first rodeo. 

It reminded him of something Ash said when the interview was first scheduled. Something along the lines of her interviewing stars popular enough to make them seem like newcomers. He couldn’t remember. It didn’t really matter to him, he preferred to skip the awkward starstruck introductions and jump straight into the interview. He wasn’t much of a mingler these days. 

The novelty of TV interviews wore off a long time ago. 

“Okay!” A quick clap of her hands drew Wilbur’s attention to reality. “Showtime boys! The cameras are going to roll in 3 minutes, so let’s look alive.” Her smile was pretty, but fake. It was something that Wilbur had picked up the ability to notice in his childhood, the difference between a real and fake smile. It had helped him in the past. It had also damaged him. 

He wasn’t too worried. This was show business after all. 

When the camera man gave the signal, the interviewer started without a moment of hesitation, “Hello everyone and welcome to ‘Candid’, I’m your host Anastasia Aiden and with me here tonight is Lovejoy! How are we doing boys?” 

Wilbur answered without much thought, his camera smile and attitude appearing along with it. He had a bad habit of blanking out during interviews like these, so the rest of his team tended to do most of the talking. Mark liked to joke that Wilbur was just the pretty face to the band. It was only half-true. The method hadn’t really failed them yet. 

He had always been good with pretty, meaningless words. 

Questions came and went, pretty laughter and stale jokes fluttered in between. Nothing really stood out more than normal, which bored Wilbur. How many times would they have to answer the same repetitive questions? 

Wilbur wasn’t sure how long he was sitting there until she finally turned her attention to him directly, “Wilbur I actually have some questions of my own I would like to ask you, if you wouldn’t mind?” 

He blinked a couple of times to regain his awareness, before placing his typical cocky smile onto his face. “No, I’m not single.” 

Anastasia let out a polite laugh, “No I’m afraid not. How is your husband doing anyway?” 

Finally, something he could talk about all day. Don’t get Wilbur wrong, he was passionate and loved to talk about his music, but his favorite topic would always be his husband. He knew it embarrassed him, but Wilbur didn’t care. This is what he signed up for. “He’s doing well! Living his dream of being a, and I quote, ‘trophy husband’. Honestly, I have no idea what I would do without him. I don’t deserve him.” 

The comment seemed to draw a genuine laugh from her and some of the production team. “Glad to hear it. I did have another question for you, however.” 

Great. He couldn’t help but wonder what routine question would be asked of him this time. “Of course, what’s up?” Ash seemed to smother a laugh at Wilbur’s tone, causing him to subconsciously roll his eyes. Leave him alone, going from talking about George to a boring question killed all enthusiasm he had. 

Luckily, Anastasia didn’t seem to catch on, “If it’s okay I would like to ask you about the charities and foundations you routinely donate to? After the release of your latest album, you made pretty big donations to both the Trevor Project and Papyrus UK. In fact, you have a history of going on record supporting mental health rights and have made multiple comments on the suicide prevention systems in schools, especially the ones in America. I guess I’m just wondering: what made you pick mental health?” 

Truly, it wasn’t the first time Wilbur had been asked about his donations or tweets, but he was surprised by it nonetheless. Normally when asked, the interviewer was a tad condescending or it was coming from a fan. Anastasia, however, seemed genuinely curious. Maybe Ash had a point with his comment from a couple days back. 

Maybe it wasn’t the same old boring interview after all. 

“Huh, that’s a good question.” She sent him a smile at his tone, which Wilbur returned with a genuine one of his own. “I don’t really get asked about that much these days. So, thanks. Well,” he paused for a second to think over the words in his head, “most people tend to wonder the same thing. Why mental health? Why not something like the many LGBT+ charities since I have a husband. Truth is, while I do support many LGBT charities, I tend to be more vocal about mental health awareness for personal reasons. While I am a bisexual man, I more strongly identify as someone who is neurodivergent. I think it’s equally as important to have role models that are open about their mental health as there is to have those who are open about their sexuality. Both are good, but I like to be the fancy one who does both.” He winked, drawing another laugh. “Seriously though, I think having a mental illness isn’t something that should be frowned upon, and as a society we need to do more to support those who need help.” 

“Sounds like you are speaking from a place of experience.” Anastasia paused for a second, “I apologize, that came out–” 

“It’s okay. I am speaking from a place of personal experience.” Wilbur cut her off, “Like I mentioned before, it’s nothing to be ashamed of. You don’t have to apologize to me for asking. My past is,” he stopped and sent a look at his bandmates, “not something I’ve talked about too much in my career. I’m not embarrassed by it or anything, it’s always been more along the lines of being unsure how to address it. In the way of I’m not sure if it’s the right time or place. After all, I’m not much of a writer. When it comes to books at least.” 

“Do you want to talk about it?” 

“I would actually.” Ash sent him a look so Wilbur gently brushed their arms together. He was sure. He trusted Anastasia and her team to treat his story with respect and tact. “I suppose it all started right here in London, where I was born and raised until I was adopted at 10. Though, the real story didn't begin until I was much older, living in America, not too long after I turned 18.” 

“The real story?” 

“Well, it all started one cold night in October, on a worn down bridge with my brother…”

~

The fall chill was starting to settle in his bones, but the warmth of his cigarette stopped his hands from shaking. Wilbur liked to think the shaking was from the cold. After all, he had no reason to be nervous. This was something he had wanted for a long time, something he thought and dreamt about for so long. Finally, he was taking power into his own hands. Finally, he was controlling his own destiny. 

He ignored the wails of the shadows behind him. They meant nothing to him. 

The bridge creaked as he shifted his weight, a plume of smoke leaving his mouth with an exaggerated exhale. “Nice night isn’t it?” Though it was mostly rhetorical, he didn’t exactly mind an answer from the peanut gallery. Wilbur had brought him along for a reason after all.

“Not really.” Another creak from the bridge as Techno moved, his monotone voice carrying into the empty world around them. His brother's voice caused the agonized cries to lesson in volume. Techno always had a way of driving the mocking away. “What’s with your obsession with this old place anyway? This bridge looks and sounds like it’s one bad movement away from sending us both plummeting to our deaths.” 

“What’s life without a little danger?” Wilbur hummed. 

“Normal.” 

Wilbur snorted, turning to look at his brother. Techno looked smaller than normal on the bridge, arms crossed to keep himself warm and the darkness of the forest around him painting his normally eye-catching pink hair a muted shade. “I think our lives passed normal the day we stepped off that train.” 

Techno raised an eyebrow at that comment, “Reminiscing about the past? Couldn’t we have done that at home?” 

“Did it ever strike you as odd? How one day our own mother could just decide to leave us? 7 years into our lives with little to no warning. Like we were some old dog she just didn’t want anymore.” 

“I try not to think about it.” Techno shrugged, looking to the sky. “Why care so much about someone who left us? She doesn’t deserve my time. Not anymore.” 

“I guess that’s where we differ.” Wilbur couldn’t imagine not wondering about the why . It wasn’t like their mother hated Techno. Not the same way she hated Wilbur. Techno had always been her pride and joy, while Wilbur brought her nothing but anguish and rage. “Well, in that regard.” Wilbur laughed. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“Nothing.” Wilbur smirked at his brother who barely gave him a glance. Techno always acted so uncaring, like nothing could ever bother him but Wilbur knew better. Techno was smart and observant, but too trusting. He had too much faith in Wilbur. He wouldn’t push it. “Can I ask you something Techno?” 

“Sure?” 

“Do you believe that people can be born evil? That from the moment we draw our first breaths, that our fate is sealed. Good and evil. That there is no hope for change?” 

Techno stared at him, “Why are you asking me this?” 

“I like to think that it’s like that. That evil people are born evil, and good people are born good. That it is black and white and thats what makes it so easy to do bad things.” Wilbur turned so his back was to the edge of the bridge. He had no reason to be afraid. Destiny led him here, and destiny would take him away from here. “Monsters are born and not made.” 

“I’m starting to think you might need to take a step away from the edge.” 

Wilbur ignored him, he was starting to get too lost in his thoughts. “Mother used to always tell me that I was born as evil as they come. That God shunned me for being the son of the devil. I’m not sure how much of that religious bullshit I believe but I think she was right in some ways.” He closed his eyes and breathed in the night air, “I was born of hate. I think we both were. That’s why life has only continued to kick us while we are down. There was never any hope for either of us Techno.” 

“Wilbur-” 

“Just think about it,” Wilbur cut his brother off, spinning around and grabbing the rope of the bridge in his hands, “How could we be born of love and light and be as cursed as we are? Good people aren’t abandoned time and time again. Good people aren’t hurt and kicked while they are down. Good people aren’t tainted by the thoughts and actions that we are.” The bridge swayed due to his harsh movements.

Techno took a hesitant step towards him, probably the only time in his life he’d seen his brother be hesitant . Wilbur supposed he would have been more concerned if he were in more of a stable mindset. “What actions are you talking about Wilbur?” 

“I left notes for Tommy and George. Not one for you though, I think you know why I’m doing what I’m doing Techno. After all, we are just one person split between two. You are born of the same hatred that I am. That’s what made us what we are today. Two monsters pretending to be something we aren’t.” 

“Wilbur–!” Techno moved forward but Wilbur was faster, managing to knock Techno off balance by kicking him in the knee and shoving him backwards. 

As Techno grasped onto the side of the bridge to catch himself, Wilbur stood above him. “I entered this world with you, I guess I’ll leave it with you. I’m sorry Techno. Take care of yourself.” He turned back to the drop below and took in a deep breath, leaning over to jump. 

For a split second, true peace graced his mind and for the first time in forever, Wilbur found his mind to be empty. 

All of that changed when an arm grabbed his and his descent was stopped with a grunt. Wilbur couldn’t help but let out a scream of pain as his arm was yanked up and his eyes rushed up to where Techno was laying down on the bridge, his own arm grabbing Wilbur’s. He felt his eyes widened in shock. “What..?” 

Techno rolled his body a bit, wincing as the bridge groaned below him. He moved his other arm down to grab onto Wilbur’s arm, his grip becoming a bit more stable with both arms holding onto Wilbur. “Nope. You are not dying now you fucker.” 

Wilbur couldn’t find it in himself to fight back as Techno struggled to pull Wilbur back onto the bridge, going limp in his arms. He couldn’t believe that he had failed. After everything, he failed . 

Techno managed to pull him back onto the bridge, gasping from the effort. Immediately, he wrapped Wilbur into his arms, stood up, and started to pull him off the bridge. Wilbur struggled to get out of his arms but Techno held him tight. “Stop fighting me–” 

Just as they reached the end of the bridge, Techno was cut off by a loud creaking sound and a snap as the bridge went down with them still on it. This time, the freefall was shorter and the two of them smacked down onto the side of the cliff, Wilbur wheezing in pain as Techno took the brunt of their fall. Wilbur groaned in pain, his eyes towards the sky before they moved to look for his brother. “Fuck!” Techno’s arms went limp around him, “Techno? Techno!” He rolled out of his twins arms and onto his knees, staring down at his brother with horror. 

A mixture of pure terror and guilt swamped him at the sight of his brother. Techno was unconscious, a trickle of blood dripping down the side of his face and into his hair, staining his bangs. His left arm was in a worse state, clearly broken and a shard of it poking out of the skin. The sight of it made Wilbur want to throw up. “Tech?” It came out as a whisper as he reached forward and gave his brother a small shake. He didn’t respond.

Desperation rushed through him. He had never meant for Techno to get hurt. He had only dragged his brother along because he thought Techno would understand him, would be able to tell their family that it was for the best that Wilbur died. That he was doing the world a favor by dying. It was never supposed to be Techno who laid on the ground, bleeding.

It was at this moment that he realized that Techno wouldn’t be able to stop him this time. If Wilbur jumped off the side of this cliff, his brother could do nothing to stop him. There was nothing stopping him between life and death. 

Nothing besides the love for his brother, that is. 

Truly, Wilbur didn’t want anything to happen to Techno. As much as he wanted to die, craved it in fact, he could never let the same happen to his brother. He could never jump, not knowing whether or not anyone would find Techno. 

It was that thought that led him to grabbing his phone and making the call that changed everything, “9-1-1 what’s your emergency?” 

“There’s been an… accident.” 

~

Wilbur spent the ride to the hospital in silence. The fire department had checked him out on scene as they rushed Techno into the ambulance, deeming that Wilbur should go and get checked out as well. One of the paramedics had been sending him a weird look as well, the older woman whispering something to her partner as they loaded Wilbur into the ambulance with his brother. 

Techno didn’t wake up throughout the trip. 

He was brought into his own room once they reached the hospital, where a nurse checked out his arm. “What happened?” The nurse's voice kind of reminded him of Techno’s, deep and monotone. It sent another rush of guilt through him. 

“Techno–” He gasped as the nurse tugged on his arm a bit. He didn’t apologize. “Techno yanked it pretty hard.” 

The nurse hummed, “Why’d he do that?” 

“We… got in a fight.” 

“A fight?” The nurse glanced at his face for a second before returning back to his arm, “Why were the two of you fighting on that old bridge anyway? That thing was like a thousand years old. It’s not safe to be hanging out on.” 

Wilbur narrowed his eyes, “I wanted to smoke a cigarette. Didn’t want my dad to see so we went out.” 

The nurse pulled away and wrote something on his chart, “There’s a million better places to hide then some ratty old bridge in the middle of the forest, away from the main road. I doubt your dad would have searched the whole forest for you.” They made eye contact. Something was up, Wilbur could tell. The nurse was trying to get something out of him. 

“What’s it matter to you?” 

“Well,” the nurse sighed, “Two young men could have died tonight and I think one of them really didn’t want to and one of them might have wanted to. It’s up to you to content those dots.” 

“Are you accusing me of something?” Rage grew within Wilbur. “Aren’t you supposed to be helping me? Not accusing me of trying to hurt my brother.” He snapped out, tightening his fist on his good arm. 

The nurse stared at him for a moment, unyielding. “I never said you wanted to hurt your brother, Wilbur. Your arm is going to be okay, just strained from your brothers… yank. I must say, that’s some damage from a yank. He must have pulled you pretty harshly.” 

“My brother’s very strong.” The words came out as a growl. 

The nurse hummed, “We are going to keep you here for a bit longer. Your dad should be here soon, so stay put. My friend is going to hop in the room with you for a bit while I bring these notes to the doctor on shift.” 

“Why?” The nurse raised an eyebrow, “Why is your coworker coming in if I’m fine?” 

“I think you know Wilbur. Stay put.” With that, the nurse walked out and another one walked in. The new nurse, a little younger and female this time, greeted him with a smile but Wilbur made no attempt to acknowledge her. 

He tried to keep a handle on the anger rushing through him. They couldn’t prove anything, and they had no reason to keep him here once Phil arrived. If he kept acting angry and snapping at nurses, they would grow suspicious. 

No one could know what happened tonight. He trusted Techno not to tell, whenever his brother got out of surgery. Whenever his brother woke up .

It didn’t take too long for Phil to come rushing into the room, Tommy at his side. “Holy fuck, Wilbur!” His dad’s voice was strained with all sorts of emotion and he looked exhausted. “Are you okay?” 

Wilbur sat up, placing a fake smile on his face. “All good, I’m just tired and worried y’know? Any word on Techno?” 

Tommy looked at him weirdly as Phil sighed, “Nothing yet. They told me he was still in surgery and then led us to your room. Something about one of the doctors wanting to talk to us?” 

“Yeah, it was kind of weird,” Tommy spoke up before Wilbur could respond. “They wanted to talk to all of us, even me. The lady seemed worried. Are you sure you are okay?” 

He couldn’t help but grit his teeth in anger. Fuck whatever those nurses were thinking, he wasn’t going to tell Phil or anyone anything . “Yeah I’m all good. I’m not sure why they are insisting I stay, my arms just a little banged up. Techno…” He stopped, breaking eye contact with Phil as guilt set in, “Techno took the brunt of the fall.” 

“Wilbur…” Phil sounded exhausted, but Wilbur still refused to look at him. “Wilbur what happened ? Why were you two even out there?” 

The sound of the door slamming open interrupted them, drawing Wilbur’s attention. Rushing into the room was a panicked looking George, his boyfriend’s eyes wet with unshed tears. A sense of fondness rushed through him at the sight of George before guilt replaced it. He hated to see George worried, especially over him. George shouldn’t have to ever worry about him. “Wilbur!” George rushed to his side, barely sparing a glance at Phil or Tommy. “What the fuck!” 

Wilbur couldn’t help but give his boyfriend a sheepish smile, “Oops?” 

“Don’t oops me.” George tried to sound angry but a fond smile grew on his face and he softly smacked Wilbur in the leg. “What happened?” 

“That’s what we were asking before you barged in.” Tommy said, approaching Wilbur’s other side. “Hey Gogs glad you could make it.” 

That was weird. “Did you call George Tommy?” Curiosity ran through him, along with a sense of annoyance. Of course Tommy would be the one to call George. He would have preferred if his boyfriend never had to see him like this. 

“Yep.” Tommy said, casually while ignoring the glare Wilbur sent him. “Thought, ‘Hey! Wilbur would probably love to be all gross and mushy with his boyfriend.’ So I gave him a call.” 

Wilbur looked at George in enough time to catch sight of him rolling his eyes, “I’m glad he did because someone,” he glared at Wilbur who couldn’t help but smile again, “would haven’t told me he ended up in the hospital.” 

“Talking about the hospital.” Phil finally rejoined the conversation, moving away from the nurse who was still sitting in the room. He must have approached her when George entered his room. “Would you like to tell me something, Wilbur?” 

The look in his dad’s eyes caused a rush of anger to grow in him. The damn nurse probably opened her mouth. Great. “What do you want to know?” He kept his voice calm and even in an attempt to fake innocence. He was smarter than this fucking staff. He didn’t have to say shit. 

“Tommy, George, I think it would be best if you left the room.” 

“What?” George looked at Phil in confusion. Meanwhile, Tommy seemed to catch onto something. Fuck. Wilbur knew Tommy was smarter than he appeared, mostly on purpose. “Why? What’s going on?” 

“Nothing is going on.” Wilbur couldn’t help but raise his voice a bit, “Techno and I got in a fight. The bridge broke. Nothing else happened. It was a bad place and bad timing.” 

Wilbur noticed the glint of anger in his father’s eyes, along with a sea of sadness. As much as it hurt him to see Phil this upset, Wilbur wouldn’t back down. “Don’t lie to me Wilbur.” 

“I’m not lying.” 

“Don’t make this harder than it needs to be. I’ll say it in front of them if I have to.” 

“Just say it.” George cut in, his hand squeezing around Wilbur’s. He wished he could distract George, save him from whatever was about to happen, but he knew that wouldn’t happen. George was stubborn. 

Plus, good things don’t happen to bad people. Maybe that’s why Wilbur was still here. He couldn’t escape the consequences of his existence. 

Phil looked at Tommy, before sighing. “Wilbur. The doctors think this was a suicide attempt that went horrendously wrong. Tell me, right now, with 100% certainty that you and Techno weren’t on that bridge because you were going to jump.” Wilbur froze, the words unable to leave his throat. He wanted to deny it, probably would have been able to do so, if the reminder of Techno hadn’t been there. His lack of an answer seemed to be enough. “ Wilbur .”

He shook his head, “Nothing happened Phil.” 

“Stop lying to me!” Wilbur couldn’t help but jolt in surprise at Phil’s yell. When he met his dad’s eyes, he got the impression that Phil was surprised by his own action as well. “Just.” He paused, looking away. Wilbur winced but didn’t back down. “Please don’t lie to me, Wilbur. Don’t make this any harder than it already is.” 

Wilbur couldn’t tell the truth. He couldn’t look his father in the eyes and tell him how he wanted to die. He couldn’t sit in this room, surrounded by his family and tell them that he had planned to die tonight. He couldn’t… do that to them. Ever. “Techno and I got in a fight and the bridge broke. Nothing more happened. I…” For what felt like the first time in years, Wilbur couldn’t get himself to lie. “It was a fight.” 

Phil looked back at him, sadness in his eyes. “I’m sorry Wilbur. I don’t believe you. I can’t.” He looked at the nurse, before looking back at the three boys sitting across the room. “I’m going to wait for news about Techno. I want you to know that I love you Wilbur and that I’m not mad at you, I’m just… I’ll be back. Techno should be out of surgery soon.” 

Wilbur watched as his father took one last look at him before turning around and walking out of the room, quietly shutting the door behind him. The sound of the shutting door was the only thing that rang in the room for a minute. 

George’s hand tightened and his boyfriend let out a muffled sob, turning away from Wilbur. Tommy met his eyes with a sense of strength Wilbur couldn’t help but admire. “Is he lying Wilbur? Did you really try to… Did you try to commit suicide?” 

Wilbur didn’t answer. 

Chapter Text

November 6th, 2021

Dear Diary… No what kind of bullshit is that

Journal Entry #1… no, that sounds too technical. What is this a lab experiment?

Hey, 

Quite frankly, I don’t know how to start this. I don’t know who is going to read this. Dr. Rivera insists that it’s just for me, that I don’t have to share it if I don’t want to, but I doubt that. I’m pretty sure that at one point, I’m going to have to share my feelings with the class. Which is bullshit, but I wouldn’t be surprised. Seems like the kind of thing she’d do. 

I’d apologize if it turns out that she’s the one reading this, but I honestly don’t care. I’ve been pretty open with my feelings about everything so far. One appointment in and I’m pretty sure my therapist already hates me. Again, I’m not surprised. 

So let’s get this over with and talk about my feelings: I feel pissed. This whole thing is stupid and unnecessary. Writing down my thoughts and feelings in some sort of journal, like thats going to make them go away? It’s the same thought process as talking about them. Speaking my grievances doesn’t make them go away, and I don’t need to make them any more real than they already are. I’m sure I’ve made my point about how I’m feeling pretty obvious by now. 

So yeah, I guess I would say I’m mostly angry right now. Angry that I’m still here, angry that I have to see Dr. Rivera, angry that I’m forced to look my family in the eyes each morning and pretend like I didn’t shatter their worlds. 

I didn’t plan for this part. I didn’t plan for what would happen if I didn’t die. Which, in hindsight, was stupid of me. I’m usually pretty good with having back up plans, but I guess I just assumed that nothing would have stopped me. I guess I put too much faith in myself. Funny if you think about it. For once, I believed in myself too much. I guess that’s what I get for having self confidence. 

I guess… I also feel… God why can’t I just  

Admittedly, I feel very… guilty. Dr. Rivera told me that it’s normal to feel guilty after an attempt wow that feels weird to write but she says its part of the healing process. I’m not sure how I feel about that. The worst part is that I’m not feeling guilty for the right reasons. Sure, I feel bad for what happened to Techno. A little less every time he opens his mouth, but still. Honestly, the thing I feel the most guilty about is that I lived. That I still have to be part of their lives after causing them so much distress. 

I’m not sure that’s what I should be feeling bad about. It feels wrong. I feel like I should be sorry that I hurt them. Each day it feels a little more real, a little more justified. Seeing the pain in their eyes… 

Why do I care so much…

How am I even supposed to talk to them anymore? Tommy can’t look me in the eyes. Phil cries every night. Techno and I can’t even be in the same room right now without one of us losing our shit. George just seems so lost and unsure and I hate it. I hate how much things have changed. I hate how things can’t just go back to normal. Why can’t we all just forget? Why can’t we all just move on and pretend? 

Sincerely… No that’s dumb 

Thanks… No that doesn’t work either 

Wilbur Soot-Watson

~

The silence was unnerving. 

Wilbur really didn’t know what to think or say as Tommy turned away, his eyes cast down. George’s sobs seemed to have lessened in strength or maybe Wilbur was too lost in his own head to hear them anymore. If he could pick any 2 people in the world to protect, to save from his poisonous touch, it would be them. Tommy and George, the two most important people in his world. His little brother, who deserved better than seeing his idol at his weakest, and the love of his life, who should never shed a tear over Wilbur again. 

He couldn’t live without them. They shouldn’t have to live with him. 

Not a single one of them spoke. Wilbur had nothing that he wanted to say. He wasn’t sure what else he could say to convince them. He considered, for a short minute, getting down on his knees and begging the two of them to believe him. In theory, if he were to convince anyone, it would be George and Tommy. 

He didn’t have the energy to do that anymore. Wilbur was so tired. So, so tired. 

The first person to move was the nurse stationed in his room. She checked something on her phone before standing up and sending them a small smile, “I have to step out real quick, I’ll be just outside of your door if you need anything. It’ll just be a moment.” No one responded. With that, she moved out of the room and left the door open just a crack. 

If he weren’t so exhausted, he might have rolled his eyes. The lack of privacy was pissing him off. 

The energy in the room stayed the same until Tommy pulled away and looked at Wilbur. “Wil.” Tommy’s voice came out sharp, easily grabbing his attention in the quiet room. Wilbur didn’t look at him, but that didn’t seem to stop his younger brother in the slightest. “What the fuck did you do ?” 

He shrugged, his shoulder brushing softly against George’s with the movement. Their combined hands were starting to get sweaty. It added a sense of the passage of time.“I kicked Techno, he got mad and yanked me forward, the bridge broke and we fell down a cliff.” It wasn’t a complete lie, just a stretched version of the truth. The thought made him feel a little bit better, though the look in Tommy’s eyes showed him that his brother didn’t believe him in the slightest. “Tommy, I'm not lying to you.”

“No, but you aren’t telling me the whole truth.” Tommy retaliated, “I know you and that dumb look on your face. You are telling me whatever you think will get me to believe you. It might have worked, if I didn’t hear what the nurses said before we entered the room.” 

“The nurses spoke to you?” George’s voice caused Wilbur to jump a little. He hadn’t expected his boyfriend to butt into the conversation, though it was typical of George to say his piece. “What did they say?” 

“Lies probably,” Wilbur snapped out, “they’ve done nothing but accuse me of things since I set foot in this damn place. You’d think that they have more to do than stand around and gossip, considering the fact we are in the ER.” 

A smack to his bad arm caused him to hiss out in pain. Tommy’s eyes widened, “Shit sorry. I forgot.” Wilbur couldn’t help but glare at his younger brother who ignored him with an embarrassed smile, before focusing back into the conversation. “They said some pretty serious stuff, Wilbur. The way you acted when the paramedics arrived, how you blanked out during the ride when most people would be panicking over falling off a fucking cliff, where you were. There was no reason for the two of you to be out there. You know that bridge was old and bound to break–” 

“You went to the bridge again?” It seemed to finally hit George where exactly Wilbur and Techno had been. Wilbur winced, he knew George hated his obsession with the secluded place. He had promised to never go back. 

It wasn’t the first promise he broke, but it still stung all the same. 

“...Maybe.” 

“How often?” 

“Often enough,” Suddenly, looking at Tommy was the better of the two options. Wilbur couldn’t look his boyfriend in the eyes and see the pure hurt and sadness in them. It broke what little part of him was still standing. “It’s not that important. I just wanted to smoke a cigarette.” 

“So you went to that place?” George wouldn’t let it go. “Instead of your backyard? Or my place? Or the park, or Schlatt’s or literally fucking anywhere else but the place you promised me you wouldn’t go back to because it wasn’t safe and I was worried you were going to do something stupid , which I’m starting to think thats why you liked it so much.” 

“Oh? And what’s that supposed to mean George?” Wilbur couldn’t hold the annoyance back in his voice, but he still couldn’t look him in the eye. He resulted to staring at his shoulder. Close enough. 

George didn’t back down, tightening his grip on Wilbur’s good hand to an almost painful level. “I don’t think you went all the way out there with Techno to smoke a cigarette , is what I’m saying. The Wilbur I know wouldn’t have–” 

A flicker of rage consumed him and Wilbur’s eyes met George’s, “Maybe you don’t know me as well as you thought you did, Georgie.” It came out like acid, scathing and burning his tongue. The shadows flickered, uneased. Tommy stiffened next to him. 

George’s response was cut off by the return of the nurse, along with a doctor this time. Wilbur didn’t back down, continuing to glare at his boyfriend until he huffed and looked away with red rimmed eyes. If he were a better person, Wilbur would have apologized to him. He would have apologized for breaking so many promises and hurting his boyfriend. He would have begged George to forgive him for showing his true colors, for leading him into a false sense of security.

Right now, Wilbur wasn’t a better person. Part of him doubted he would ever be. 

Wilbur finally acknowledged the doctor when he cleared his throat. “Hello Mr. Soot-Watson, my name is Dr. Boyce. I’m the ER Doctor in charge of your visit tonight.” He paused, as if waiting for Wilbur to verbally respond in some fashion, but continued when he made no effort to. “I’m sorry for not being able to see you any sooner. It’s been a busy night.” Dr. Boyce flicked through some papers, “I don’t have any updated information of your brother currently, but your father is waiting and will most likely come by when we receive that information. Are you okay with those present hearing what I have to say?” 

George sighed next to him and Tommy shoved himself closer. Wilbur resigned himself to having them stay. He would never hear the end of it if he kicked them out, as much as he wanted to. He wanted them as far away from this as possible. As far away from him as possible. “It’s fine. You can call me Wilbur.” 

Dr. Boyce nodded, “Okay. Normally I would only allow family to stay, however your father made it clear to me that he would appreciate your boyfriend staying while he isn’t here.” Tommy snorted quietly, looking away when the nurse shot him a curious look. “I’m here to inform you that you will be staying overnight for observation–” 

“What.” Wilbur cut him off, “Why? I’m not injured, I’m not actively dying. Shouldn’t you worry about having room for actual patients instead of locking me in here all night for whatever reason?” 

“You are an actual patient.” Dr. Boyce seemed unphased by his reaction, continuing to read something on his chart. “It is in our best interests, and yours, to keep you here for the time being. Until suicice is completely ruled out we are unable to release you.” 

“I don’t know how many times I have to tell you that it was an accident.” Wilbur’s hands shook and he ripped his hand from George’s as they tightened into fists. He was tired and angry and just wanted to be alone . “It was a dumb mistake. This was never supposed to happen.” 

Brown eyes met blue as Dr. Boyce sent him a look void of emotion. Wilbur wondered how many people had yelled at this man and how long it took him to get used to it. The casualness of the action off put him a bit. Wilbur wasn’t sure why but the reaction seemed to… disappoint him a bit. “We have reason to think otherwise, Mr. Soot-Watson. Until your brother wakes up and is able to clear our suspicions, we will be keeping you in our care. My nurse here, Ms. Chancel will be staying with you for the time being. This is for your safety.” 

“What if I want to leave?” 

Dr. Boyce sighed, “I would not recommend you leaving. Legally, I can keep you here for the time being, but you will be cleared if suicide is not a probable cause. So for now, you can’t.” 

“This is bullshit.” Wilbur wanted to scream. Hell, he almost did but he knew that would only increase their suspicions of him. “You aren’t even listening to me .” 

Tommy spoke up, “I think they shouldn’t listen to you.” Wilbur turned on him, ready to snap, but the present party made him hold his tongue. “So just shut up and wait for Techno to wake up. If you are telling the truth, then you have nothing to worry about. If not, then at least we know you are somewhere safe instead of running off doing who knows what to yourself.” 

“I don’t remember asking your opinion.” Wilbur spoke, trying his best to keep the rage out of his voice. It didn’t work much.

Tommy glared right back at him, “Too bad. Sucks.” 

Dr. Boyce seemingly ignored the tension in the room, flicking through his papers one last time. “I have a couple of other patients to see, ask Ms. Chancel if you have any questions or concerns. Your brother and boyfriend can stay for now, but not for much longer. Just sit tight and rest up. I’ll see you soon.” The nurse retook her seat with a small nod goodbye to the doctor, who left in a hurry. 

Wilbur groaned, leaning his head back. “This is a nightmare.” 

“It could be worse.” 

Wilbur rolled his head so he was able to look at George, who was staring right back at him. “What could be worse than being locked in this place?”

George answered, his voice soft and sad. “You could be dead, Wilbur.”

~

Tommy and George filled the air with idle chit chat in the hour or so it took for them to hear any news about Techno. Wilbur really wasn’t feeling up to talking. He wasn’t sure how things would play out once Techno was awake and able to answer their questions. From what he remembered from the ambulance ride, Techno’s head injury wasn’t life threatening and he was being kept under for his sake. He had woken up very briefly once they got to the hospital according to Ms. Chancel, but not enough to speak to anyone and only for a couple of seconds. Wilbur wasn’t sure if that was a mercy or not. 

Truly, he didn’t know what Techno would say to the doctors. It could go either way, knowing his brother. While Techno really cared and wanted the best for his family, he tended to internalize a lot of the things that bothered him. Part of him expected Techno to not say anything about his attempt in fear of Wilbur growing angry with him. Another part of him expected Techno to tell the truth because of his fear of Wilbur hurting himself or worse. 

Wilbur wasn’t sure which he should prepare for. He wasn’t sure if he could prepare for either.

It was pretty late when Dr. Boyce and Phil came back to his room. The sound of the door opening caught his attention, Tommy jolting up from where he was falling asleep against the wall and George looking up from his hands. All 3 of them watched as the two men entered, with Dr. Boyce softly closing the door behind them. Ms. Chancel greeted her coworker with a nod. “First things first,” Dr. Boyce spoke, his voice just as level as it had been before, “I think it’s fair of me to update you all on your brother's condition. Techno’s surgery went smoothly and they were able to repair the break using a metal rod and some screws. He is suffering from a mild concussion as well, but luckily it does seem like his arm took the brunt of the fall and he should be fine to be released in a couple of days.” 

Wilbur couldn’t help but let out a sigh of relief at the news, his posture relaxing the slightest bit. It healed a small part of his heart to know that his brother would be okay. He wouldn’t know how to live with the guilt if something worse had happened to his brother. 

He was pretty sure he wouldn’t be able to, actually. 

“Saying that,” Dr. Boyce continued when no one spoke up, “his doctor was able to speak with him a little bit after he woke up from the surgery. They didn’t want to keep him up for long, but recognized that we needed to know what happened. Techno was responsive and able to tell us his side of the events that unfolded tonight.” 

Phil’s sigh, pained and full of so much emotion, led Wilbur to knowing which option his brother had chosen. “So you are going to take the words of a drugged patient over a sober one?” Wilbur wasn’t able to hold his snark back. He knew it was a pointless, last ditch effort to save himself. It wouldn’t work. 

“I’m taking the words of a drugged patient over the words of a suicidal one.” Dr. Boyce responded, “I’m sure you know this, but most suicidal people aren’t exactly pleased when their attempt fails. Your brother has no reason to lie–” 

“You don’t know that.” Wilbur cut him off, “Maybe he just wants me to be stuck here as well because he’s mad about the fight.” 

“He might not know that, but I do.” Phil finally spoke up, his gaze turning from Dr. Boyce to Wilbur. “Techno has literally no reason to lie to us. You, however, do. You’ve been off for months now, agitated and withdrawn, and I made the mistake of assuming it was just a late stage rebellious phase. That’s on me. I should have said something sooner.” 

God, did Wilbur want to scream. He wanted to scream and yell and punch something . He wanted nothing more than to be alone, or better yet, dead. He wanted Phil to just shut up for once in his life, “Don’t flatter yourself Phil.” The words tasted like poison, “You haven’t given a shit in a long time. Don’t act like this is on you. Don’t play the victim.” 

His father stiffened, his eyes turning icy. “I’m not playing the victim Wilbur. I’m admitting to my mistakes, which seem to be many if this is the way you are acting–” 

“For once in your life,” Wilbur seethed, “can you just shut up? You are so worried about what you did wrong, what you could have done better, that you can’t even see past your own bias. You’ve always preferred Techno since the moment you met him.” 

“I do not prefer your brother Wilbur, and this isn’t about him.” Phil snapped back, “This is about you and getting you the help you need. I’m sorry if it came out like I cared more about what I did wrong than what’s going on with you, but you need to calm down.” 

“Calm down?” Finally, he snapped, his voice raising in volume. Tommy shot up and moved away as Wilbur glared at his father. “You are seriously telling me to calm down ? You have no idea what it’s like to be in my place right now. It was never supposed to be this way. It was supposed to end, I wasn’t supposed to continue on suffering like this.” The shadows danced in the corners of his eyes and he wanted to cry. Why couldn’t it all just stop? “I should have just left Techno at home. I wonder,” his voice turned to ice, “how many days it would have taken you to notice that I was dead. After all, you stopped being a good dad a long time ago Phil.” 

Phil took a step back, shocked, and Dr. Boyce took that as his cue to step in. “I think it would be best for you all to go home for the night. Ms. Chancel will stay with Wilbur for now, and he will be perfectly safe for now. I know this isn’t a pleasant experience for anyone, so I suggest you go home and take some time to think and come back with a clear head tomorrow.” Dr. Boyce gestured to the door, placing his hand softly on Tommy’s shoulder and leading him out. Phil followed behind with a lost look in his eyes. 

A shift in position next to him reminded him of George’s presence. His boyfriend reluctantly stood up, sending him a sad look. Wilbur watched as George glanced at the door quickly, before turning back to him and leaning down to press a soft kiss to Wilbur’s forehead. “I love you.” It was all George could seemingly get out, tears filling his eyes as he walked towards the door. 

Wilbur couldn’t respond, his hands shaking and his breath caught in his throat. 

~

He spent the next 20 minutes as alone as he could get with the nurse hovering in his room. Dr. Boyce had decided to give him some time to cool off before they discussed what came next, seeing as Wilbur was an adult and didn’t need his father’s presence. 

It only took a couple of minutes for the anger to fade into a sense of emptiness as reality hit him. Techno had told the truth and Wilbur had confirmed it. He wouldn’t be allowed to leave and would most likely be subjected to a stay in the psychiatric ward. There was nothing he could do to leave. 

He was stuck. 

He knew that even when he managed to leave the hospital, a whole new type of imprisonment would begin. Wilbur would go from one hell to another. Phil wouldn’t give him the same level of freedom and trust as he had before. Tommy would never look at him the same again. Techno and him would never be able to ignore what happened between them. George would always know that Wilbur wanted to die, that he was willing to give up a life with him. 

There was no escape anymore. He had lost that privilege the minute he dialed 9-1-1. Honestly, probably from the minute he chose to bring Techno along with him. 

Dr. Boyce soon returned. “I’m sorry,” Wilbur wasn’t sure how to feel about that, “there is never a good way to say the truth. It always ends in pain, though I’m sure you are aware that this would happen.” The doctor sighed, “I’m going to be honest with you. We can’t help you if you don’t want to help yourself and right now, it seems like you don’t want to help yourself. It may make me seem like the bad guy, locking you up, but I promise that I’m just trying to help you. Things will get better.” 

“That’s what they all say,” Wilbur didn’t have it in him to be angry right now, “I’m not sure if I believe them.” 

“You don’t have to, at least not right now. I sincerely hope that one day, you do.” Dr. Boyce sat in the chair in front of his hospital bed. He had honestly forgotten it was there. “Let’s discuss what happens next before we move you and you can sleep for the night. Seeing as you are not severely injured and do not need to be healed, you will be moved to the psychiatric ward tonight. Tomorrow morning, a psychiatrist will speak with you and determine your risk level and how long you will need to stay with us. You will speak to a therapist for a couple of sessions before we release you.” 

“Do I get a choice in this?” 

“Sadly, no.” Dr. Boyce responded, “You are not in a stable sense of mind, therefore we can not take your word as fact. I know it seems unfair and its not what you wanted, but we all want nothing more than to help you. Even if it doesn’t feel like it.” 

Wilbur sighed, “So let me guess, I’m stuck in another room for a couple days with whatever nurse is available, forced to talk about my feelings until someone deems me stable enough to go home where I assume I will receive similar treatment?” 

“I can’t guarantee what will happen once you leave the hospital, but yes. For your safety, you will have someone in your room with you until you are deemed to not be a threat to yourself. You will speak to a therapist, and we will send you home with a recommended therapist to continue speaking to. Legally, we cannot force you to see them once you leave, but it would be beneficial for you to do so.” 

“I’m tired.” 

Dr. Boyce gave him a pat on the knee. It felt a little condescending. “I’ll get you ready to move to your room for the next couple of days. It was nice meeting you, Wilbur, even if the situation isn’t ideal.” 

“You aren’t going to be my doctor?” 

Dr. Boyce shook his head, “No. You will be reassigned to a healthcare specialist. I will be staying in the ER. I might stop by to see you if I can though.” 

“Don’t stress over it.” 

He chuckled, “Yeah I bet you can go the rest of your life without ever seeing me again and be perfectly content. Ms. Chancel and a couple others will move you shortly. Have a goodnight Wilbur.” 

He wouldn’t.

Chapter Text

Wilbur was released from the hospital only 3 days later. Techno was released a day after him. 

He wasn’t dumb enough to call himself lucky. Wilbur knew it took a master class level of manipulation mixed with sugar sweet words that got him out of the psychiatric ward so quickly. A couple of moments of vulnerability and honey-seared secrets lead him into Phil’s car only 4 days after his suicide attempt, back to the house and his room where Wilbur had originally visualized rethinking his plan. However, that idea ended rather quickly. 

From the moment he entered his room, Wilbur was aware that things were going to be different. Phil had made no attempt to hide the new security system that locked his window tight, or the fact that his laptop was missing. His room was also notably different, as if someone had gone digging through it in an attempt to find its secrets. Wilbur wasn’t too surprised that his father had done that, but trusted that he hadn’t found anything that he didn’t want him to. 

Wilbur had spent enough time in the foster system to know how to hide his secrets. 

Among his missing items was his phone. It had been confiscated at the hospital once he had been deemed a suicide risk, and it looked like Phil wasn’t planning on returning it anytime soon. Although Phil had sworn to him time and time again that he wasn’t angry with Wilbur, this was starting to feel more like a punishment every minute he was in the house. Phil promised to give his phone back in a couple of days. Wilbur assumed that his father needed more time to monitor it. 

The night before Techno returned home was… quiet. Phil had invited George over for dinner, though he didn’t stay long. Wilbur wasn’t sure if he should blame himself for that one either. George hadn’t been allowed to see him since the first night in the ER. His boyfriend still couldn’t make eye contact with him most of the time. Dinner was deathly silent with Wilbur glaring at his father and pushing his food around until it went cold. Just because he understood why Phil was doing what he was doing, didn’t mean he was exactly pleased with it. 

Wilbur went to bed, alone, for the 5th night in a row. He missed George’s warmth. 

Techno returned the next morning, still hyped up on pain meds and exhaustion. He had made brief eye contact with his twin before Techno looked away and was helped up the stairs. Techno’s arm was wrapped in a bright pink cast, seemingly signed by friends of his that had come to visit him in the hospital. Part of Wilbur was jealous. He hadn’t been able to see his brother, nor had he been allowed any visitors. Another part of Wilbur was happy to know he wasn’t the only one stuck in that hell. He supposed that was the selfish part of him. It seemed to be winning more and more everyday. 

He hadn’t been alone with Techno until they bumped into each other in the hallway later that night. Techno did nothing but glance at him before pushing past him to head to the bathroom. The touch burnt like a fresh wound. Wilbur knew he deserved it. It didn’t make it hurt any less. If he were in Techno’s shoes, he’d be mad too. 

It was the morning after Techno’s return that Wilbur got his phone back, at breakfast, along with some news. It was also the first time they had all sat down together, as a family, since that cold October night. The atmosphere felt as cold as it did before he stepped onto that bridge. “I’ve invited George and some of his friends over for dinner tonight.” Phil was the one to break the frigid silence, “Though he should be here soon.” 

Wilbur didn’t react, continuing to push his eggs around meaninglessly on his plate. He hadn’t felt like eating recently. His father’s gaze left him with a sigh. “Why?” Tommy piped up, shooting Phil a questioning look. 

“You all probably realize he turned 18 while you two were in the hospital, so I thought we could have a little dinner celebration for him tonight. From my understanding, he didn’t really celebrate it all that much. Feels like a good place to start.” Honestly, as bad as it made him feel, Wilbur had forgotten about his boyfriend’s birthday. Time had muddled together during his time in the psych ward and Wilbur wasn’t even sure what today’s date was. Logically, he knew that it was sometime in early November, but it hadn’t registered that it was after George’s birthday. 

The thought of George all alone on his birthday, something they had been looking forward to since Wilbur himself had turned 18, broke his heart. He added it to the things to feel guilty about later when he had more energy. “All part of the grand plan to ignore what happened, I presume?” The comment slipped out without much thought. He twirled his fork. 

His father’s sigh pulled his attention from his plate of cold, mushy eggs. “I’m not ignoring anything Wilbur.” Phil placed his own fork down, taking a sip from his water. If Wilbur were him, he’d be drinking something a little stronger. “I just thought that some normalcy could help us all… settle a bit.” 

“I think we are far past normalcy.” Wilbur sent a smirk to his brother when he finally spoke up, their eyes meeting for the first time today. Techno immediately looked back down to his plate. Wilbur couldn’t help but notice that his brother also hadn’t eaten much. Interesting. 

“I think this could be good for us .” The emphasis on the last word caused Wilbur to let out a snort. Phil ignored him, “I know it’s rough right now and we are all on edge and upset, but let’s try to have a fun night. It’ll be nice to see everyone again, out of the hospital, right?” 

“I didn’t see anyone in the hospital.” Wilbur raised an eyebrow at his father. “I wasn’t allowed visitors, remember? I was deemed too much of a risk for anyone but you to come see me.” 

“Then it’ll be nice to see them again in general.” Phil amended. “Stop saying it like that, you weren’t a danger to anyone Wilbur. You weren’t allowed visitors because–” 

“‘You are a sensitive case and we are worried about causing you any unnecessary stress.’ I remember, I only heard it a thousand times.” It came out more mocking than he intended. “The only person I put in danger was myself. I know. You don’t have to tell me. Again.” 

When Wilbur looked up at his dad again he was met with exhausted blue eyes. Logically he knew the past couple of days had been hard on Phil, with his attempt and Techno’s injuries, but Wilbur couldn’t help but feel a bit gratified at the sight. In his eyes, Phil deserved a little suffering of his own. 

He ignored the fact that Phil had been suffering ever since he lost Kristen. He didn’t like to think about Kristen. 

“Let’s just try and have a good time.” Phil repeated, “George can also spend the night if you want him to. I’m sure he misses you.” 

Wilbur hummed, “Dunno. Maybe.” 

No one responded to that, which Wilbur was silently thankful for. He wasn’t in the mood to argue over his self-worth this morning. He didn’t care how often everyone told him that they loved him or how lucky he was to have good people in his life, Wilbur didn’t believe it. Good things didn’t happen to bad people and Wilbur was a bad person. 

Breakfast continued on silently. Techno left halfway through, claiming to be tired. Wilbur preferred to think that he was just tired of his presence. It made it a little easier to cope with everything if he believed that Techno hated him for what happened. It eased the guilt. 

George showed up about an hour after breakfast was cleaned up. Wilbur didn’t get up to greet him despite the fact he was sitting only a room away and had a perfect view of the front door. He wasn’t allowed to spend all day in his room per Phil’s instructions. Most of the time he spent on the couch, ignoring Phil or Tommy when they tried to talk to him. The rest of the time he spent in the backyard, ignoring Phil’s silent monitoring. He liked to lay down and watch the clouds. 

When George entered the house with a small greeting to Phil, Wilbur gave him a glance from over his phone. He couldn’t help but smile a little. Truly, Wilbur believed there was nothing in this world that would cause him to not want George around. Well, besides the hospital room. He could have gone without George being there. He went back to his phone, quickly sending Niki a response to her 3 day old text. 

George approached him with a smile, his normal sleepover bag slung over his shoulder. Guess George made that choice for him. “Hey Wil.” His voice was soft, striking a cord of annoyance in Wilbur. He didn’t want George to talk to him like he was broken. “You want to head upstairs?” 

Wilbur made a point to groan loudly, his voice carrying into the kitchen where Phil was hiding out. “As much as I would love to go in my room, I am sadly grounded and not allowed in it. Apparently, I am only allowed to wallow on the couch or outside under parent supervision. Would you prefer to awkwardly sit on the couch with me or go outside and lay in the dirt while we pretend that Phil isn’t watching me so I can’t jump the fence and run away. Because I’m known to jump fences all of the time. It’s a thing I do.” 

Phil’s sigh was barely audible, “You aren’t grounded Wilbur, I’m just worried about you. You can go upstairs and spend some time with George, I’ll come grab you when its about time for the others to show up. Just keep the door unlocked for me, please.” 

Wilbur sent George an annoyed look, “Oh wow thank you Phil!” He made sure his tone was sarcastic, ignoring George’s glare and swat. “I’m so glad I’m allowed in my bedroom with my boyfriend . If you or Tommy walk in and see anything, that’s between you and God.” 

George rolled his eyes, “We aren’t going to do anything Phil. Thank you for inviting me over.” 

Wilbur lowered his voice so Phil wasn’t able to hear them, “Wow babe thanks for telling my dad that I don’t get any.” George smacked him again. “Ouch. Anyway, let's go before he changes his mind and makes us hang out on the couch and talk about our feelings.” Wilbur hopped up from the couch, grabbing George’s arm and tugging him towards the stairs. 

“He’s just worried about you,” George followed behind him without fighting, “I think we all are. You should lay off him a little. He’s probably really scared.” The ‘ I know I am’ went unsaid. 

Wilbur couldn’t help but roll his eyes in annoyance, “He’s trapping me is what he’s doing. I just got my phone back this morning. I’ve been home for two days. What does he think I’m going to do, shoot myself with my phone?” He pulled away from George when they reached the door, habitually opening the door and waiting for George to enter before he entered and closed the door. Normally, he would lock it, but he supposed he could give Phil this one. Plus if he did, George would probably get annoyed with him. Again. 

“That’s not funny.” George sat down on his bed, frowning at him. “I don’t know why he kept your phone for so long. Maybe he was worried you were going to use it to get one of your friends to help you to escape.” 

He snorted, “Escape?” Wilbur flopped down next to George, wrapping an arm around his waist. Phil or Tommy wouldn’t be too traumatized if they walked in on them cuddling. They’d live. “This house is practically a fortress. Personally, my favorite new insulation is the window monitor, it makes it feel like a jail cell. I’m starting to feel more like a felon than a suicide risk.” 

George continued to sit up, causing Wilbur to frown. That wouldn’t do. He tugged on George’s waist until his boyfriend relented with an eyeroll, lying down next to him and resting his head on Wilbur’s chest. That was better. “It could be worse. My mom put tracking devices in my shoes.” 

Wilbur couldn’t help but snort, his eyebrow raising even though George couldn’t see his face due to their gazes being trained on the ceiling. “What the fuck? When?” 

“Before she moved back to Britain? Right around the time we started dating. I thought I told you this before?” 

“Nope I definitely would have remembered that,” Wilbur’s smile faded. He didn’t hate a lot of people in his life, it wasn’t really his style, but he could very happily go the rest of his life without seeing George’s mom ever again. “Maybe Phil should call her and they can chat over tracking methods.” 

He felt George stiffen against him, “I wouldn’t compare Phil to my mom, even in this situation. They are two very different things.” 

“How? I’m pretty sure it’s the same. Let’s make sure Wilbur doesn’t go off somewhere and hurt someone because he’s crazy.” 

George pulled away. Rude. “ Wilbur. ” 

He couldn’t help but wince at George’s tone. Great. He hated it when George got upset with him. “Georgie.” 

“Don’t call yourself crazy–” 

“Okay but I kind of am–” 

“No,” George sat up so he could look down at him. Wilbur didn’t like it very much, it made him feel small. He also sat up, keeping eye contact with George. It was a little better, though the look in George’s eyes still caused him to back down a bit. “You aren’t. Don’t ever call yourself crazy. If I was depressed, would you ever call me crazy?” 

His response was immediate. He didn’t have to think about it in the slightest, “No. Never.” He would never see George as anything less than perfect. 

“What about Tommy? Techno? Phil? Niki?” 

He paused, “No, I guess not. I mean there is something wrong with Tommy but not in that way, y’know?” 

George ignored the slight jab at Tommy, which Wilbur couldn’t help but silently groan at. This was going to be a serious conversation. He was tired of serious conversations. He just wanted to lay down and cuddle with his boyfriend, not having to think for a bit. “Then why call yourself crazy? You aren’t crazy Wilbur, you are struggling and you need help.” 

“You sound like Dr. Singh.” Wilbur couldn't help but laugh, his voice taking on a mocking tilt. “‘You aren’t a bad person Wilbur, you just made a bad mistake. Life is all about making bad choices and learning how to improve from them.’ Like thanks, my suicidal thoughts are cleared from your Gandhi bullshit!” 

“Sounds like your doctor was a smart person.” 

Wilbur smirked, “Oh I wouldn’t go that far. She let me out of there now, didn’t she?” 

George looked at him sadly, “Now what’s that supposed to mean?” 

With a loud sigh he flopped back down onto the bed, “It means that I’m no better than I was 5 days ago. You know how easy it is to lie to the hospital staff? You tell them what they want to hear with a sprinkle of some sweet talk and boom! I’m released into the world! Back to being the menace I am!” 

“Are you…” George looked like he was about to cry. Shit. So much for a relaxing time cuddling. “Are you going to try to kill yourself again Wilbur?” 

He wasn’t sure how to respond to that. Of course he thought about it all the time, especially when he was stuck in the psych ward, but to actively try again? To work up the courage to try? He wasn’t sure. “Honestly? I want to die George. Especially after failing and having everyone know . Because everyone does know. When I got my phone back I had so many messages asking me if it was true or not. I–” He swallowed, “I don’t know how to continue like this. I haven’t wanted to live for a while and now? It’s so much worse. I’m not sure if I’ll try again but if someone came up to me with a knife and stabbed me I wouldn’t complain per se.” 

Wilbur didn’t want to look at George. He didn’t want to see the emotions, the pain and hurt, in his boyfriend's eyes. He didn’t want to see George cry again. “A couple of months ago,” George’s voice was steady, leading Wilbur to turn and look at him. George wasn’t crying but he was definitely close to tears, “you asked me if it was stupid that you wanted to marry me. That you wanted to spend the rest of your life with me. Did you want to die when you asked me that?” 

“Not at the exact moment, but yes.” Wilbur admitted. The raw pain in George’s eyes caused him to look away. “I– Fuck. Sorry.” He forced out an uncomfortable laugh to ease the tension. It didn’t work. “I want to marry you George. I would never not want to marry you. If I have to live the rest of my life, I want you by my side. But…” he supposed he could afford to tell George the truth. He deserved it, “I think, at that moment, it was an attempt to find something to hold onto.” 

“It didn’t work.” Wilbur couldn’t look at him even though he knew George was silently begging him to, “Even though I promised you I would, it wasn’t enough for you.” 

“I’m sorry.” He had nothing else to say. 

“Don’t apologize to me Wilbur. Not when you don’t really mean it.” There was nothing to say to that. 

~

November 11th, 2022

Hey, 

I’m still not too sure about this whole journal thing. Even after using it for a couple days, it still feels redundant. I’m talking to Dr. Rivera about everything but I still have to write in here? I guess she wants me to use it to talk about my ~super secret~ feelings or whatever, but why wouldn’t she just want me to tell her myself? Instead of just saying it to myself. I mean, it’s not like writing something down makes it true. Watch. 

I’m happy!

See, didn’t work. Still sad and angry and tired. I still want to die, though I guess it’s more like I want to sleep for the next 1,000 years. It’s hard to explain. I hope you don’t understand. Unless you are me, then you do understand, which I guess if you are reading this you are me? I don’t plan on sharing this with anyone else. Unless forced to. Which will most likely happen. 

Let’s just move on to the emotions already. That’s what we are all here for. 

Today on Wilbur’s emotional struggles: I’m sad! I mean, what’s new, but today I’m feeling more sad than angry. It was something Tommy said. He made a comment about George looking lost at school and it just messed me up I guess. I didn’t spend a lot of time thinking about how my actions would affect others. Dr. Rivera says that’s normal with most suicidal people but still. The thought that George is just wandering around school missing me makes me sad. 

I don’t like to think about how this affects George. Truth is I tend to go out of my way to avoid thinking about how this affects George because it makes me want to die more than normal. George has already put up with so much shit in his life, he doesn’t need to deal with mine. 

I think he’d say something similar about me. I hope he doesn’t think I’m putting up with him. I’d tell him but I don’t want him thinking like that. I’d fight the whole world if it kept George happy and trust me, I’m not much of a fighter. I’m pretty sure a palm tree could beat me in a fight. 

Anyway, George. He’s great. I love him. He definitely deserves better. Hell, I talked to Niki the other night and asked her if I should break up with George because he doesn’t deserve to go through all of my shit. She told me that if I broke up with George she’d be second in line to beat my ass, only behind George. Which was nice to hear, I guess. I don’t want to break up with George. It’s nice to know that someone smart like Niki doesn’t think I’m ruining his life or anything. Still, I feel bad. He deserves to be happy and all I’m doing is making him sad. 

I don’t really have much else to say. Still haven’t talked to Techno. Tommy’s a bit more chill now, but he still agrees with Phil’s bullshit. Not much else is going on. I miss the outside world. 

Wilbur Soot-Watson

~

Eventually, they started to talk again but the conversation was always a little tense. Wilbur knew it was fair to admit the truth to George, but part of him desperately wished he hadn’t. That he had spared George that unnecessary pain. His mother always told him that good relationships were built on the foundations of truth. He wasn’t sure why he was taking her advice, but he supposed that bit was true. Even if it hurts.

George’s guests showed up a couple of hours later. 

He had admitted to Wilbur earlier in the day that he hadn’t wanted a party, that it didn’t feel right celebrating right now. Wilbur wasn’t sure how he should respond to that, so he just let them sit in silence for a bit. Truly, he was a master of socialization. 

Luckily, it seemed like Phil knew that a small get together would be better than a full-blown party, seeing as the only guests he invited over where Mr. Oaklend, Karl, and Quackity. Wilbur was admittedly happy to see the older man, Phil had told him that the music store owner was very upset that he couldn’t visit Wilbur in the hospital. Knowing that he cared had made it a little more tolerable. Still, at the sad look Mr. Oaklend gave him, he couldn’t push back the mixture of guilt and annoyance. 

Karl’s reaction was similar to Mr. Oaklend’s, a look of sadness that was weakly covered by a smile. Quackity, however, seemed to have the calmest reaction to seeing Wilbur again. He did nothing but smack Wilbur in the shoulder and tell him to not do stupid shit again before he wandered into the kitchen in search of Phil, most likely to harass him. Wilbur found it refreshing in a way, to not be looked at with sadness and pity. 

Quackity’s reaction to Techno, however, soured the mood a bit. Wilbur caught them in the tailend of their interaction, where Quackity had patted his twin on the shoulder and told him to keep on pushing forward. Part of Wilbur had hoped that Quackity would have taken his side on that part, but no. It looked like he also blamed Wilbur. 

It ruined what little of a good mood he had left. Wilbur knew this party was for George, but fuck did he wish he could just go in his room and sleep it away. He was already tired. It had been a long day. 

George had greeted everyone happily, but never left Wilbur’s side. At first it was endearing but it quickly turned annoying, as he was forced to listen to George and Karl awkwardly try to include him into their conversation. While he had nothing against Karl, Wilbur just wished he could be alone. He didn’t want to talk about school or whatever Karl was asking his opinion on. He wanted a cigarette or a joint. 

Things didn’t go bad until dinner started. Tommy had happily joined Phil in cooking dinner for the night, something he had taken to doing recently, and was joyfully serving their guests. When he placed a plate loaded with food down in front of Wilbur, he couldn’t help but snap at his younger brother. “I’m not hungry.” 

Tommy flinched a bit but didn’t back down, “You barely ate breakfast and skipped lunch. A little pasta won’t kill you.” 

“It would solve a lot of my issues if it did–” 

“Wilbur.” Phil shot him a look, “Stop.” 

Wilbur raised his hands, “Sorry. I thought it was funny.” No one responded and Wilbur sighed, “Harsh crowd.” Tommy continued to serve dinner, but with less enthusiasm this time. Wilbur didn’t let it bother him. 

It didn’t take long for everyone to be served. On his right was George and his left was Phil, which only made him feel a little bit trapped. He knew Phil was next to him to stop him from doing anything rash. Wilbur wasn’t sure what his father was expecting him to do when the sharpest object he’d been given in the past 2 days was a fork, but Wilbur supposed his strongest weapon had always been his words. 

George spoke up from next to him, “Thanks for dinner Phil, Tommy. It’s nice.” 

Tommy sent him a bright smile, “Only for you Gogs!” 

“I’m glad you enjoy it.” Phil smiled as well. Wilbur rolled his eyes. “I’m sorry we couldn’t do anything for your actual birthday.” 

“It’s fine, you had more important matters on hand.” 

Wilbur snorted, “Really? What was going on?” 

Nobody laughed. Wilbur withheld a sigh of annoyance. “Wilbur.” Phil sent him another look, “Be nice.” 

“I am being nice,” Wilbur laughed, “I’m making jokes, lightening the mood and all that. You guys are sitting here and acting like someone died.” He couldn’t help but smirk as he took a bite of his pasta. It was pretty good to be fair. “Well, I mean…” 

“Suicide jokes aren’t funny Wilbur.” That was Tommy who spoke up this time. Wilbur had to lean forward to see his brother on the other side of Phil. “I know you think you are coping with humor but you just seem like an ass.” 

He shrugged, “It was my suicide attempt I’m making fun of. I don’t know why you care so much.” 

The air at the dinner table was turning tense. Tommy didn’t back down, “I care because you are my brother and it’s not funny that you are suffering. Stop acting like we are all going to laugh it off and move on like it never happened. It’s not funny. You aren’t being funny.” 

“Boys–” Phil attempted to intervene, but Wilbur already found himself on a roll. 

“I don’t get why all of you are acting so entitled over this.” Wilbur pointed his fork at his brother, “It’s always ‘I care’ or ‘I’m sad’ or ‘I wish I did this differently’. This isn’t about you guys. Stop playing victim.” 

“No one is playing victim Wilbur.” Tommy slammed his hand down on the table, causing it to shake. The noise caused Techno to wince. “No one is trying to upshow you or whatever bullshit is going through your head right now. We want to help you. We are saying these things because we care about you–” 

“No, you don’t.” Wilbur snarled out, “None of you gave a shit until that bridge went down. Not a single one of you did anything or changed anything until I almost died. Then it’s suddenly ‘Oh no Wilbur’s sad let’s lock him in the house all day and treat him like a baby–’” 

“No one did shit because you didn’t say shit,” Tommy snapped back, “We aren’t fucking mindreaders Wilbur. We didn’t know you were so miserable. I know for a fact that all of us asked you at one point if you were okay or tried to help you, but you didn’t. say. shit.”

Wilbur stood up, his hands on the table. “Oh I didn’t realize it was up to me to spell everything out for you guys. My bad, let me fix that real quick. Hey Tommy, I want to die! Is that better?” 

A hand wrapping around his right arm drew his attention away from Tommy, “Wilbur.” George’s voice was calm, “Sit down. Leave Tommy alone.” 

It was a little too late for George’s normally soothing presence to calm Wilbur down. He ripped his arm out of his boyfriend’s hand. “Oh so now you are taking his side?” 

Tommy looked like he was going to cry, all red and teary eyed. George just looked tired. “I’m not taking anyone’s side Wilbur. He’s a kid, and he loves you. Stop yelling at him.” 

“I always knew you cared more about Tommy than me.” 

George looked confused, “What? Why the fuck would you ever–” 

“You always take Tommy’s side!” He couldn’t ignore the rage that had been building up in him for the past 2 days, “It’s always ‘leave Tommy alone’ or ‘he’s just a kid’! He’s still responsible for his actions! He isn’t free of blame because he’s 14–” 

George stood up as well. Phil grabbed Wilbur’s other arm. Wilbur was getting very sick of people grabbing his arms lately. “He is 14 years old, Wilbur. I don’t care how shitty you feel, do not blame your 14 year old brother for not noticing that you were suicidal. That is not his responsibility.” 

Wilbur didn’t back down, even as George got in his face. They had never fought like this before. They had never yelled at one another like this, never got in eachother’s faces. “Oh? Who am I to blame then? Myself?” 

“Me.” George’s answer honestly stunned him for a second. “Blame me. Blame me for not noticing, because if anyone was supposed to notice it should have been me –” 

Wilbur couldn’t respond, not that he even had time to before Quackity stood up. “Okay, thats fucking enough.” Wilbur had forgotten that the guests were even here. A quick look around the table had him notice the sadness in Mr. Oaklend’s eyes and the discomfort in Karls. Quackity, however, just looked pissed. “Wilbur. Outside, now.” 

“You aren’t my father Quackity.” His tone was weaker now, offset by George’s reaction. Wilbur was unsteady. 

“You better be fucking thankful that I’m not your dad right now, because I would have ended this shit long ago.” Quackity walked away from the table, towards the back door. Phil’s hand let go of Wilbur’s arm. “Get your ass outside.” With that, he yanked the door open and stormed out. Wilbur followed behind without much thought. 

It hadn’t hit him until George said it, the possibility of his boyfriend blaming himself. Realistically, he knew he would do the same if the roles were reversed, but it never crossed Wilbur’s mind that George would blame himself. In his eyes, it was so obviously not George’s fault. It was nobody's fault but–

Nobody’s fault but his own. 

Quackity spun to face him the moment they were alone. “Look Wilbur, I’m not going to stand here and pretend to know your life. I’m not going to pretend to understand how you have been feeling for who knows how long, or claim that I empathize. Not once in my life have I ever considered the possibility of ending my own life. I haven’t been through what you have been through, and I didn’t grow up in the situation that you did.” Quackity stared him in the eyes, “But I do understand what it’s like to be so angry that you want to rip the world to shreds. I understand the urge to make someone feel as pissed as you do but those people inside? Your family, your boyfriend? They are the people that deserve that the least . They have done nothing but support you throughout everything.” Quackity sighed and ran a hand through his bangs. “When the Schlatt thing happened, I wanted to do nothing more than make literally anyone feel as bad as I did, but I watched as my family and friends stood by my side and supported me through the whole thing. As George missed dates and dinners to listen to me rant about the same shitty guy for the millionth time because he was my friend and he cared about me. So listen to me now, and listen to me closely.” 

Quackity took a step closer and grabbed Wilbur’s shoulders. In any other situation, the height difference would have made Wilbur laugh. “George and Tommy are the last people in this world who should blame themselves. Those two have been on your side since the start. You know when I found out, the first thing George told me was that he felt responsible. Can you imagine that? For one second, put yourself in his shoes. George, who has done nothing but support you and love you since the day he met you, so strongly to the point he left his mother for you. George, who never stood up to his shitty ass mother until she insulted you. The guy who would do anything for you, if it would make you feel any better. I know we tease you and joke that you are gone for George, but the truth is that its the same for him. The two of you are so fucking gone for each other that its insane.” Quackity laughed, sharp and harsh. “So if I ever hear him blame himself again, I will drive here and beat the shit out of you. I don’t care how bad you feel. I don’t care that you are miserable, and as much as I care about you and I want you to get better, I will not let you take George down in the process. So you better walk the fuck up to your boyfriend and tell him that its not his fault, then you better apologize to Tommy. Before I give you a real reason to fight.” Quackity didn’t give him the chance to respond, turning and walking back into the house. 

Wilbur didn’t follow him right away. His mind was too messy, too full of Quackity’s words to move. He wasn’t sure how to take that. Did George really blame himself? How could he go on this long letting George think that way? What kind of boyfriend was he, to not notice how much George was suffering? 

The sound of footsteps gathered his attention. “I’m sorry,” he blurted out. 

“I’m not sure I’m the one you should be apologizing to.” An older voice responded. Wilbur turned to face Mr. Oaklend, who smiled at him. “Though, I’m sure I know who that was meant for.” 

“I’m sorry you had to see that at least.”

“I’ve lived a long time Wilbur,” Mr. Oaklend replied, “and I’ve been through a lot of things. As much as your suffering breaks my heart, I can not hold your emotions against you. You are young and in pain. Talk to someone, get some help. There is so much more for you to do in life. Don’t waste it.” 

“I…” Wilbur trailed off, “I’m sorry. I want to see it that way. I want to have hope for the future. I’m tired of causing people so much suffering, but I just can’t. I can’t see life getting any better. I’m not a good person, and I think I proved that tonight.”

Mr. Oaklend shook his head, “I have met bad people before. People who hurt others for fun, people who hurt animals because they can, people who kill for pleasure. You are not a bad person Wilbur, you are just lost. No one is expecting you to immediately find your way back to the path, they just want you to try to find it. Now go inside and apologize to your brother.” 

Wilbur watched as the old man walked away, sighing to himself. He was tired of people telling him it would get better. He knew, though, that he had to take it one step at a time. Starting with some necessary apologies. 

He went inside.

Chapter Text

Wilbur’s new therapist’s room looked as stereotypical as they come. Neutral toned walls, a cream colored couch and chair, paintings of nature on the walls, all graced with natural light provided by the giant window that took up what would have been the outer wall. Currently the curtains were open, leaving Wilbur with the sight of treetops and the blue sky. He wasn’t sure what the intention of the large window was. Maybe it was to make the room feel less claustrophobic to those nervous about the appointment, maybe it was to provide a little bit of a distraction for those who needed it. Most likely it was just the way the room came, nothing psychological about it. 

Great. He was already overthinking things. This appointment was going to go well. 

As he settled into the couch, his eyes were drawn to the woman in the room with him as she sat across from him, a little wooden table between them. She had introduced herself to him not too long ago, as Socorro Rivera or Dr. Rivera, whichever he preferred. She was a shorter woman, around the height of 5’0ft, which made their first interaction terribly funny to Wilbur. She had to practically crane her whole head up to look at him. 

He guessed she looked nice. There really wasn’t anything that stood out from her immediately, tan skin and dark features. She had a nice business casual smile that Wilbur could appreciate. She didn’t give off the same vibes of forced cheer that Dr. Singh had, which was great. His previous therapist had annoyed him more than anything. 

Still, he wasn’t exactly happy to be here, which is something Dr. Rivera immediately made note of. “So Wilbur, what brings you to my office today?” She casually clicked her pen open, loosely scanning through a paper in her hand. 

Wilbur snorted, lounging back on the couch, “Oh I’m sure you know.” 

“I do.” She agreed, “But I was hoping you could tell me.” 

“Well,” he dramatically drew the word out, “I almost got my brother killed because I wanted to jump off a bridge. So I’m here on recommendation from the hospital for a failed suicide attempt.” 

Dr. Rivera hummed, “Okay. It’s good that you could admit it, thats an amazing first step. If it’s okay, I would like to go over what the hospital sent me with you. That way, you can interject if you disagree or want to add something for me.” 

“Sure.” 

“You were brought into the ER with a minor injury after a bridge collapsed with you and your brother on it. Your brother received severe injuries, but went through a successful surgery. You were the one who called 9-1-1 and when the paramedics arrived on scene you displayed a sense of disassociation that concerned them. Due to the location of your accident, as well as behaviors you showed to the medical staff, you were deemed a potential suicide risk. This was later confirmed by yourself and your twin brother. You were admitted to the Williamsburg Psychiatric Hospital for further observation, where you spent the next 3 days until you were deemed safe to return home. While there, you received treatment from both Dr. McCarthy and Dr. Singh. Dr. McCarthy, after spending some time talking to you and reviewing some questions you answered, did diagnose you with Major Depressive Disorder and a mild version of Obsessive Compulsive Disorder–” 

Wilbur raised his hand. Dr. Rivera gave him a small smile and a nod, “Where the fuck did she get OCD from? How did she get that from me being suicidal?” 

Dr. Rivera flipped to another page, “OCD is an anxiety disorder and, along with most anxiety disorders, comes with an increased risk of suicide. While I’m not saying its your OCD that made you feel suicidal, it can be a factor. You also showed mild signs of OCD during your stay at WPH, such as your obsession with good vs evil and other various religious components controlling your life. Any other questions?” 

“Nah.” 

“Perfect, let me know if that changes. From what it says on the paper, you denied any form of medication for both your OCD and MDD?” Wilbur nodded and she made a note on the paper, “Okay we are almost done with this part. You received treatment from Dr. Singh, who felt comfortable releasing you from her care after about 3 days. She made a note that you seemed eager to answer her questions and willing to work with the staff, and you were overjoyed at your release. Now, while that does sound ideal, I do think it’s far from the truth.” 

Shock rushed through him, quickly overtaken by a wave of annoyance. “What’s that supposed to mean?” 

She placed her hands in her lab, “You seem like the type of guy who values honesty over fabricated words, is that true?” 

Wilbur narrowed his eyes, “I guess you could say that.” 

“Then I will speak freely, seeing as I believe you will benefit more from that than some sugar coated words.” Dr. Rivera responded with a smile, “I’ve been in this business for a long time. I know your type. You most likely wanted out of that hospital from the moment you stepped into it, and you did whatever you could get there. A little truth mixed with some acting would have done you wonders in the busy psychiatric ward.” 

“What makes you say that?” Anger ran through his veins, burning down his arms until he clenched them into fists. He tried to not react psychically much past that, knowing that every action was taken into account from here on. 

This wasn’t a busy ER nurse or an overworked hospital doctor. Dr. Rivera had no one but him to focus on for the next hour. She wouldn’t be as easy to fool. 

“You’d be surprised how easily body language gives people away.” Dr. Rivera placed the papers from the hospital onto the side table next to her, returning her hands to her lap. “From the moment I entered the waiting room till you sat down on that couch, I was watching how you moved and acted. Most first timers are nervous and that tends to show in their behavior. Slouching, avoiding eye contact, mumbled speech. You however never hesitated to meet my eyes, walked with a sense of confidence, and immediately made yourself comfortable on my couch. However, your body language was never open . You didn’t initiate conversation or eye contact, walked behind me instead of beside me, and your attention wandered as we entered the room. Though you are laying down which shows a sense of comfort, your body is closed off with your arms across your chest and your eyes more often drifting across the room. You do not want to be here, do you?” 

Admittedly, he was impressed. Wilbur had grown up being told that he had a talent for words, a silver tongue and personality to go with it. He had never struggled when it came to fabricating words, lies slipping from his mouth easier than sand through fingers. He had never even considered his body language throughout all of this. 

His eyes met Dr. Rivera’s and he smirked, “Nope. I don’t.” He shrugged, “I’m glad that I don’t have to at least hide it.” 

“Then why are you here?” She blinked calmly, unphased. Wilbur couldn’t get a good read on her and it annoyed him. He couldn’t make up his mind on whether or not he actually liked her. 

He decided on a begrudging respect. “I made a promise to my boyfriend once I got out of the hospital. He wanted me to go to therapy to get some help and ‘talk about my feelings’ or whatever. I just agreed and came so he wouldn’t get mad at me. I’m sure you understand, it’s never fun when your partner is mad at you.” 

Dr. Rivera let out another hum, “No it isn’t. So what are you planning on getting out of this? An hour of awkward silence and the occasional note home for your boyfriend so he won’t get mad at you?” 

“That would be ideal.” 

“Well, Wilbur,” She smiled at him, “I’m a woman of honest work. I’ve put a lot of time and effort into my job in order to reach the level of success that I have, so no. It’s not going to work with that. I’m not going to be your hideaway for an hour.” She sighed, “I don’t mind if you have off days and don’t want to talk. I don’t mind if you just need a day to relax and chat about whatever random things that come to your mind. You don’t have to spill your life secrets to me every time you come see me, or at all. We can go through these sessions without ever talking about your problems if you really want to, but I’m not going to let you hide away in my office when someone who actually wants my help can be here instead. I hope you understand.” 

“Huh,” Wilbur sat up and stared at her, “I think that’s the nicest way that someone has ever told me to fuck off.” 

Dr. Rivera laughed, the noise a little nasally and loud. It was pretty endearing. “Now I would never say that exactly, I like my job. So tell me about this boyfriend of yours. It sounds like you hold him in rather high regard.” 

The subversion caused him to pause for a second, but he recaught himself after a moment. “Didn’t we just have a whole talk about how you are supposed to help me, not let me hide away in your office? Shouldn’t you be asking about me?” 

Dr. Rivera reached over to her notebook and pen, shifting until she was resting with her foot under her leg on the chair. She clicked her pen. “I said you can’t hide away in my office in silence every time you have an appointment. I’m not the school nurse. Getting to know you, your life, and the people around you will help me be able to help you. A person's perception of others tells a lot about them. So, tell me about your boyfriend, unless you have something else you want to talk about?” 

Wilbur thought for a minute, returning his gaze to the ceiling. He had already lost the battle in trying to prove his point, so there was no reason in hiding it anymore. He supposed he wouldn’t waste any of Dr. Rivera’s time. Or Phil’s money. “Eh, nah. We can talk about George.” She clicked her pen and moved it closer to the notepad, causing Wilbur to laugh a bit. “You better take extensive notes, I have a lot to say about George.” 

“So his name is George?” 

It was a good point to start, easy to unravel from there. “Yep. George Henry, we go to the same school. Hell, we met at school not too long after I got adopted and moved out to Florida. We were both 10 and got paired together during a project because we had both just moved out to America. That’s what kind of got us started in the bonding part, we were both from Britain and we chatted a lot about weird American things. We grew pretty close rather quickly.” Wilbur laid back down, flicking his fingers together for a second. “We introduced our families. His mother hated me, my father loved him, it was all set in stone. We started dating when we were 15 and have been together ever since. We’re actually going to hit our 3 year anniversary in April.” 

“Got any plans for it?” Dr. Rivera had written a couple of things down, but had made no attempt to interrupt him. He could barely see her write from the corner of his eye. 

“Nah, George’s not very into anniversaries. We are probably just going to chill out in his apartment and have dinner or whatever. Nothing too special.” 

“His place? What about his mother?” 

That made him pause for a second. Wilbur didn’t like to talk about her, never really brought her into conversations. He wondered if George had told her yet, and what she thought about his suicide attempt. He wondered if she would be disappointed that he lived. “He lives alone. I don’t like to talk about her, can I move on?” 

She wrote something down, “Of course. What’s George like?” 

He couldn’t help but smile, tilting his head in a small effort to block Dr. Rivera from noticing. He wasn’t sure if it worked or not. “He’s amazing. A little bit of a brat, but perfect. I love him. He’s super smart but also the biggest idiot I know. He’s not super great with emotions and has some trust issues but if he does trust you, he’s the most loyal person you will meet. Super sweet, hot, funny, smart, really the whole package. Plus he loves me which is always nice, oh and my family. He loves them a lot too. He’s never gotten upset when my dad stuck Tommy on us when we tried to go on dates or hang out, he made Tommy feel like part of the plans. I want to marry him one day.” 

“Marriage huh? That’s big.” 

Wilbur shrugged, “You know when you know, you know?” 

Dr. Rivera laughed, “Yes I know. So, Tommy. Is that your twin brother or?” 

“Oh no,” Wilbur froze up again before continuing. Tommy was a safe topic too. It was fine to talk about Tommy. “He’s my younger brother. So there is me, Tommy, and Techno. Techno’s my twin.” He frowned, pushing on before Dr. Rivera could ask another question, “Tommy’s great. He’s a little shit but he’s the best brother anyone can ask for. He annoys the living hell out of me but I have no problem hanging out with him. We do our math homework together sometimes.” 

“What about Techno?” 

“We aren’t on talking terms right now.” A hard edge had slipped into his voice, which Dr. Rivera must have caught onto as she hummed and wrote in her notepad. “George actually called Tommy his little brother the other day, not to his face of course Tommy would never let him hear the end of it, but it was really cute. I’m glad they get along. It means the world to me.” 

The sounds of pen on paper were the only thing Wilbur heard for a minute, “So George and Tommy. They sound important to you.” 

“They really are,” the ceiling was getting a little boring from all of the staring he was doing. They should move a painting onto the ceiling. “The most important people in my life. I have some close friends of course, but nobody like the two of them. They are all that matters.” 

“Surely other things matter?” 

Wilbur shrugged, “Nothing compared to them. I don’t know how to word it I guess? Like, if it came to saving the world or making them happy, I’d choose them?” 

“I think that makes perfect sense,” more writing sounded from her end, “They sound great. I’m glad to know you have good people in your life.” 

“Me too,” another frown slipped onto his face, “which makes it a little harder.” 

“Makes what harder? Your suicidal thoughts?” 

“That and the anger. I don’t like snapping at them.” Memories of George’s disastrous birthday dinner flashed through his mind and he couldn’t help but shake his head. “I don’t want to talk about that. It makes me feel bad.” 

“It can be hard when you hurt those you care about,” Dr. Rivera agreed. “It’s okay to feel guilty about that, it’s all normal–” 

“Can we move on please.” The anger in his tone was easy to pick up on but Wilbur couldn’t force himself to feel bad about it. He had warned her. 

The air grew silent for a minute before the sound of pen on paper broke through again, “Of course.  We only have a couple more minutes left in our appointment, would you like to add anything on or would you like to set a goal for our next appointment?” 

Wilbur titled his head towards her, a little confused. “A goal? What is this, therapy?” He paused, “Oh wait. Shit.” 

Nasally laughter greeted him in response and he couldn’t help but laugh himself. “Yes, Wilbur, just like therapy!” Dr. Rivera joked back, “But yes, a goal. Maybe something you want to address with either myself or a family member, or something you want to do? It could be anything you desire.” 

A frown formed on his face, “No not really? I’ve never thought about it, I guess. Do you have any ideas?” 

“Of course I do,” her voice had a teasing lit to it and it helped him ease back into the couch, “it’s my job after all. Personally, I would suggest that during our time away, you start on a journal. Now, you don’t have to share this journal or its entries with anyone, myself included. I think it would be productive for you to write down your feelings, in an attempt to acknowledge and recognize them. I think that could be beneficial for you.” 

“So,” Wilbur sighed, “I have to talk about my feelings and write about them? Doesn’t that seem a little redundant to you?” 

“Sometimes redundancy is the key to success.” 

“Literally no one has said that. Ever.” 

“I don’t know about that, I mean I just said it.” Dr. Rivera moved her foot from under her, standing up with a big stretch. “Don’t worry, you won’t lose points on your report card if you don’t do the journal, but seriously. I think it would be a really helpful tool for you if you were to pursue it. Think about it before our next session.” 

He stood up as well, “I guess. Uh,” he made uncomfortable eye contact, “thanks. I guess. You aren’t too bad.” 

She smiled, “Starting to rethink the whole therapy thing?” 

“Oh don’t give yourself too much credit I still hate this and would rather die then talk about my feelings.” As he finished speaking she reached over, grabbing her notepad and writing one last thing down. He couldn’t help but ask, “Is the notepad thing supposed to feel patronizing or am I just imagining it?” 

Dr. Rivera shrugged, “Depends on what you find patronizing. It’s just notes to bring up later.” She headed towards the door, opening it with a soft click. Wilbur followed behind her with soft steps. Something about the whole office building itself gave him the urge to be as quiet as possible. “So I’ll see you in a week, the same time as today. If anything comes up, don’t be afraid to reach out to my office or my work phone, which is listed in the papers you received when you first came in. I always have that phone on me, so if you ever need to talk about anything let me know. I hope you have a good rest of your day Wilbur.” 

“You as well.” He called out to her as she turned back to the hallway, returning to her office. 

Wilbur left the building with a small wave to the receptionist, entering the humid air with a small huff. It only took him a minute to find Phil’s car, parked exactly where he had originally been dropped off. He wondered if Phil had even left. 

He missed his car. 

Wilbur didn’t respond to his dad’s greeting, slipping a headphone into his ear and leaning his head on the window. He was still mad at Phil, and a little worn out from his appointment with Dr. Rivera. He didn’t feel like speaking. Well, that was until he saw the sign for an approaching store. 

“Hey dad? Can we make a quick stop, I need to pick something up real quick.” 

~

November 15th, 2021 

Hey, 

Surprisingly, today was a… good day. Which is weird. I can’t remember the last time I had a good day. Like, a completely good day. Sometimes I have good moments during bad days, like when George comes over or Tommy does something especially dumb, but today was just a plain ol’ good day. 

On a Monday too. Take that Facebook moms. 

It was weird, having a good day. I still had a couple of moments when I thought I was going to slip up but I was able to work through it. Take a couple deep breaths and think. It was nice. It also terrifies me. 

I had my second appointment with Dr. Rivera the other day. I’m not going to go into detail because, well, I was there, but some of the things she said made me think. Especially the comment about healing not being linear. I guess that is what is scaring me. 

Does that mean something bad is coming? If I’m feeling better, does that mean that I’m soon going to be feeling worse? 

It makes me think, which is never any good. What’s the point in fighting the bad when the good only makes the bad come back? Like a moth drawn to light, will the bad always follow the good? I guess these are questions I could ask Dr. Rivera, but I think she’s a therapist and not a philosopher. I don’t think she will have the answer to these kinds of questions. Or, maybe she will. She is kind of scary smart. 

I think she’s growing on me a little more each time I think about her. Kind of like a fungus. That’s rude. I’m not taking it back. 

I worked on some of my songs the other day. I couldn’t find it in me to tell George. He had asked a while back for me to play a song for him but I can’t right now. He’s smart. He will be able to read right through me. Honestly, I think I’m starting to lose my touch a little bit. Seems like the whole world can read through me these days. 

The other day Tommy called me out for lying to him. To be fair, he’s always been good at noticing when I’m lying, but this was almost immediately. He didn’t even hesitate. I think he’s developing. I would be scared if I wasn’t so impressed.

Maybe I should reconsider my skill set. 

Wilbur Soot-Watson

~

A couple days later, George came to visit. Honestly, George was over a lot these days. It might have felt like he was over more often now that Wilbur wasn’t allowed to go to his house, but it felt like George was there more days then he wasn’t. It didn’t matter if it was a school night, rain or sun, George was there. 

It was nice. It was stifling. 

Phil had asked them to stay downstairs tonight, which was weird. His father was usually pretty okay with them heading upstairs as long as George was with him and they left the door unlocked, which was still annoying but Wilbur made it work. Any time with George was a win. Still, having to sit on the couch where anyone can come and butt in was a little annoying. 

He still made sure that he got his time cuddling with George. If Phil made them stay downstairs, he would have to pay the repercussions of his actions. From the moment that George had sat down, Wilbur wrapped him in his arms and pulled him close. Tommy had immediately screamed in horror and ran off. It was nice. George fit in his arms perfectly. 

Though, George did seem a bit more… pushy these days. Before his sucide attempt, George tended to back off when Wilbur seemed quiet or annoyed, leaving them to relax in silence. These days George would continue talking as if Wilbur’s growing ire wasn’t an issue to him. Maybe it wasn’t an issue for him. It was possible that George wanted to spend as much time with Wilbur as he could, regardless of his mood. He could also just not care. George had a tendency to ignore things he didn’t care for. 

It’s nice to think that Wilbur’s bad moods could fall under that. It also pissed him off. 

A gentle thrumming on his arm redrew his attention. Wilbur let out a hum. “I asked you a question.” George teased, placing a gentle kiss on Wilbur’s jaw. 

“Did you think about the chance that I didn’t want to answer it?” He teased back. He made an attempt to kiss George, who quickly leaned to the side and out of the way, tsking. Wilbur pouted at him, “What’s that all about?” 

“No kissing on the couch.” George smiled, leaning back again when Wilbur made another attempt. Damn him. “Plus I want you to answer my question, you ass. It’s important.” 

“Fine, what was it?” 

“Wow you weren’t even listening? Some boyfriend you are.” He caught a glimpse of George rolling his eyes. Wilbur placed a pacifying kiss on his cheek in return. “I thought you loved to listen to me talk about Karl’s weird love life.” 

“No, I love to listen to you talk. Karl’s weird love life just happens to be something that you talk about. A lot.” He looked at George, who met his eyes with a soft look. “If I didn’t know better I would say that you like like Karl.” 

“Like like? What are we? Middle schoolers?” 

“I hope not that would be weird.” Wilbur winked, laughing when George smacked him in return. “Okay fine tell me about Karl’s love life.” 

Wilbur’s felt as his face softened into a softer, fonder look when George’s eyes brightened. “Okay so, Karl was telling me about this guy who he used to date that he recently reconnected with but get this? Karl’s also been talking to another guy. Of course Alex and I told him to stop being a whore and pick one, but it turns out that they are all okay with Karl dating both of them. It gets even better!” George laughed. It warmed Wilbur’s heart. “They know each other! Karl thinks they have this ‘secretly in love but will never admit it because they are Bros™’ thing going on and wants to start some sort of poly relationship with them.” 

“Did you just say ‘TM’ aloud?” 

“Is that really what you took out of that?”

Wilbur laughed, “That does sound like something Karl would do to be fair. Do we know them?” 

He felt George shrug more than he saw it, soft against his chest. “I think you do but I don’t recognize their names off the top of my head as anything but Karl’s boytoys. He wants to bring them to the next Girls Night but we will probably meet them at school before that. When are you heading back, by the way? Isn’t Techno set to come back soon?” 

School. Wilbur wasn’t sure when the last time he had thought about school was . Sure, it came up in passing when talking about his school friends, but actually thinking about going back? Wilbur wasn’t sure. “I… don’t know?” He admitted, “No one’s told me anything. I guess we can ask Phil?” 

George turned his head at a weird angle to look at Wilbur’s face. It didn’t look very comfortable. Wilbur nudged him until he moved his head back. “Do you want to go back?” 

 “Eh,” he shrugged, “I don't really want to do much of anything. Doesn’t mean I can run away from it forever. Phil!” He called to his dad, who he knew was lurking somewhere in the kitchen. Phil hardly left him alone these days. It didn’t take long for his dad to enter the room and look at him, confused. George tried to pull away but Wilbur wouldn’t let him. Repercussions of actions after all. “When am I going back to school? I don’t want to fail out or something.” Wilbur shivered, “Imagine being a super senior. I would rather die–” 

Phil sighed. “Please stop saying that.” Phil took a seat in one of the chairs nearby. “Uh, I was going to bring this up soon but I wasn’t sure when the best time was… I’m not sending you back to school?” 

“What?” 

“I get to drop out?” George and Wilbur spoke at the same time, the excitement in Wilbur’s voice overshadowing George’s confusion. “That’s sick. I can be like that hot secret boyfriend that picks George up from school–” 

“Literally everyone knows who you are, Wilbur.” 

“No, you aren’t dropping out either, Wilbur.” Phil looked like he would rather be anywhere in the world than this room, having this conversation. Wilbur had a feeling, deep in his gut, that he would soon be feeling the same way. “I’m having you homeschooled. I’m not sure how long, it might be the rest of the year or just a couple of months. I think it would be better that way.” 

He felt his heart drop. His arms loosened from their position around George’s waist. “You won’t even let me go to school ?” For the first time in awhile, Wilbur honestly wanted to cry. He wanted to cry and scream and break something . “Seriously? Not even to fucking school?” 

“I can’t trust that you won’t–” 

“I won’t what?” Wilbur was growing a little hysterical. George tried to comfort him by rubbing his arm but it did nothing to distract him, “Jump off the roof? Shoot up in the bathroom or something? They have measures to prevent that, Phil, so I can’t just walk into school and die.” 

Phil rubbed his face in his hands. Wilbur ignored the distress on his fathers face. It would do nothing but piss him off. “I worry about you Wilbur. I don’t want to lose you.” 

“You can’t just lock me away forever.” He felt a tear slip down his face. “Stop punishing me. I can’t live the rest of my life in this house.” 

“It’s not the rest of your life Wil, it’s just until I trust you again–” 

“I haven’t left the house without you hovering over me since I went to that fucking bridge with Techno.” Another tear fell down his face, and more, until he was officially crying. George pulled out of his arms, turning around to try and hug him. Wilbur didn’t let him. “I just want to feel normal again, yeah, just like you said? How am I supposed to heal when I’m constantly reminded of what I did? I just want to be a kid again.” 

He didn’t give Phil time to respond, turning away and heading upstairs. George followed him with a whispered sentence to his father. Wilbur ignored it. He wanted to be alone. 

He wasn’t allowed to be alone. He doubted he would be for awhile.

Chapter Text

George didn’t stay the night. It wasn’t necessarily anyone’s fault, but Wilbur was still angry about it. He knew everything was hard on his boyfriend right now and that George must have been juggling a lot, but he still was upset at him leaving for the night. 

It wasn’t like Wilbur was great company anyway. He knew he wouldn’t find sitting around watching someone mope very fun. He didn’t blame George, he just missed him. Wilbur hated being without George. 

He was starting to hate being in this house.

Wilbur wouldn’t talk to Phil for a couple of days. He still couldn’t justify the complete loss of freedom in his head. George and Tommy had both told him that Phil was just worried, that he didn’t hate Wilbur or find him useless, but words can only do so much for him. Everyday his house started to warp more and more into a prison of Phil’s creation. 

He couldn’t leave. He wasn’t allowed to be alone for more than an hour without someone checking up on him. Most days it felt like he wasn’t able to go to the bathroom without someone trying to sneakily follow him. Wilbur hadn’t gone anywhere but the store and therapy since his suicide attempt. 

Everyday he wished Techno had missed a little bit more. He felt horrible about it, but it was the truth. 

It only took a couple of days for Wilbur to finally snap. Truthfully, he had been trying his best to hold in his comments since Quackity had ripped into him. He knew his family wasn’t doing anything more than trying to help him. Still, he couldn’t help but despise their help. 

It all came crashing down during breakfast, on a quiet Thursday morning the week before Techno was set to return to school. Wilbur’s brothers and father had been chatting amongst themselves about Techno’s return to school when Tommy made an accidental slip of the tongue, “I bet you are ready to get out of this fucking house, aren’t you Blade?” Tommy’s voice carried in the still air, as it always did. His younger brother didn’t have a volume switch, “When’s the last time you even left this place?” 

“Check-up.” Techno’s response was short, lifting his arm to emphasize his statement. Techno hadn’t really been speaking much since the bridge, something that Wilbur had picked up on rather quickly. His twin had never been as chatty as Tommy or himself, but his lack of speech was still noticeable. Wilbur wasn’t too worried about it. Techno was never one to hold back when he was angry. 

“Must be nice,” Wilbur stabbed his fork into a pancake, “I’d love to go outside. I’m not sure I remember what a tree is anymore.” 

His tone must have been more scathing then he planned it to be, seeing as his family immediately stopped talking. Techno looked away from him while Tommy pulled out his phone, pretending like he got a message. Phil only sighed, “We have trees in the backyard Wilbur. If you really want, we can go to the park for the day tomorrow? Get some fresh air, maybe George can come along–” 

“Oh! Like a playdate!” Wilbur cut him off, pushing false cheer into his voice. “Yeah, sure! Let’s call his mom and plan for a picnic! You can even push me on the swings like I’m 7 fucking years old again, since that seems to be how old you think I am.” He stabbed his fork down again, missing the pancake and hitting the ceramic plate. The resulting screeching sound was grating on his ears. 

“I don’t think you are 7 Wilbur–” 

“Maybe we can stop and get some ice cream on the way back?” He ignored his father, dragging his fork down the plate to replicate the noise. It was as harsh as before, but it was starting to grow on him. He did it again. “Or play on the splash pad? Honestly I’m not too sure what 7 year olds do these days, I didn’t have much of a childhood with the whole being abandoned thing.” He couldn’t help but drag his eyes over to Tommy, gaze burning. Tommy looked back towards his phone in an attempt to get Wilbur to ignore him. “What about you Tommy? What did you do with your parents before someone shot them?” 

“Wilbur.” Techno snapped out, the first time he addressed Wilbur since the bridge, but Wilbur just ignored him. He didn’t care about Techno right now. 

Tommy looked uncomfortable, “Why do you always have to be such a dick?” 

“I’ve always been a dick.” He shrugged. 

“No,” Tommy growled back, “No you haven’t. You’ve been a shithead, don’t get me wrong, but the old Wilbur wouldn’t be this mean on purpose. The old Wilbur wouldn’t be yelling at people and blaming them for things out of their control. The old Wilbur wouldn’t bring up my murdered parents to try and get a reaction out of us!” 

Wilbur didn’t have it in him to stop, “Ah yes the ‘old Wilbur.’” He mocked quotes in the air, “Everyone keeps telling me how much they miss the old Wilbur. I’m a bit surprised, I never realized you guys preferred me wanting to die over me being a dick. I’ll make note of that, seems important.” 

“ Wilbur .” It was Phil this time. His father had placed his fork down and was moving to stand up, assumingly getting ready to pull Wilbur out of the room. 

Too bad he wasn’t finished yet. 

Ever since his meeting with Dr. Rivera, Wilbur had taken up studying body language. The fact that she had so easily read him bothered him a bit. So, with precise care, Wilbur stretched and moved his body into a casual and relaxed position. Forcing a yawn, he smirked at his brother. “Tommy, be honest with me.” 

“What Wilbur?” Tommy had tears in his eyes. Wilbur couldn’t find it in himself to care. 

“In hindsight, do you wish I died Tommy?” Wilbur felt his smirk become harsh, aggressive. Tommy’s eyes widened and Techno dropped his fork. “Would all of this be easier if I was dead?” 

The sound of a chair scraping against tile drew Wilbur’s attention to Techno. His twin had stood up in a hurry, facing Wilbur with his good arm holding his weight on the table. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” Techno snapped out, the red in his eyes standing out more than normal. Wilbur had always found it interesting how Techno’s brown eyes had hints of red. Wilbur’s didn’t, yet he was the supposed evil one, according to their mother. 

“I mean,” Wilbur stood up as well, catching the sight of Phil doing the same from the corner of his eye, “am I wrong? Think about how much easier it would have been if I hadn’t come back that night? No more yelling, no more arguing, no more triple checking the house at night to make sure I can’t sneak out. It would all be normal–” 

“You are such a selfish dick .” Unsurprisingly, Techno was the first one to yell. Wilbur could have bet on it, Techno was a yeller, especially when he was upset. Such a drama queen. “Seriously? You think if you had died, life would have been easier for us? For Phil? For Tommy? For me ? Do you really think I could have lived with the guilt–” 

Rage grew inside of him. God, Wilbur was tired of people going on and on about themselves, like they had the right to be in pain over something Wilbur did. Wilbur was the victim here. He didn’t give a shit about how Techno would have coped without him. “Can you stop making everything about your damn self? I don’t give a fuck about how you are feeling Techno. Our entire lives have revolved around you. Even with Mother, it was always ‘oh, Techno wants to go to the park’ or ‘Techno’s not feeling very good, no playtime today’ and I’m tired of it. I’m tired of living my life trying to meet your needs.” Wilbur was yelling now too. He saw Phil urge Tommy out of the room, before turning back to his other kids. He hesitated to step in.

Wilbur couldn’t blame him. When they fought, it was ugly. Techno had a mean right hook. 

“I’m not trying to make it about me and I never have,” Techno’s voice returned Wilbur’s attention to his twin, “I’m trying to tell you that we care and that this family would have shattered without you. I’m trying to get you to save your life before it’s too late and you ruin it.” 

“I can’t ruin my own life, Techno. You did that for me a long time ago.” 

That stopped Techno in his tracks, his brother going pale. Phil finally stepped in, grabbing Wilbur’s arm and starting to pull him out of the room. “That’s more than enough. Go to your room Wilbur.” 

He wasn’t sure what everyone’s obsession with his arms were but he was sure as hell getting tired of people pulling on them. He yanked his arm out of his father’s grip. “I’m not a kid anymore, Phil, you can’t send me to my room every time I do something you don’t like.” 

Phil faced him, a look Wilbur had never seen before gracing his features. It caused Wilbur to pause, “I wasn’t asking. Go to your room Wilbur.” 

Wilbur went to his room.

He couldn’t help but slam the door and lock it once he entered, immediately heading towards the window. He knew that the jump from the second story probably wouldn’t be enough to kill him, but Phil was most likely too distracted with Techno and Tommy to stop Wilbur from getting the fuck out of here. Though, he still didn’t have his car keys. He would need a ride. George couldn’t drive. The rest of his friends were in school. 

There was only one person left to call. 

Schlatt picked up on the second ring, “Hey Virgo. Finally remembered that I existed?” 

Wilbur rested the phone on his shoulder so he was able to fiddle with the window as they talked, “I think I’m starting to like ‘Pretty Boy’ better. Makes more sense. Anyway, I’ve been busy… I’m sure you’ve heard by now.”  

Schlatt laughed, “Sure have. Never expected it from you. Here I thought you were Mr. Perfect.” 

“Yeah, well even Mr. Perfect has bad days.” The lock on the window made it impossible to pry open. He’d need something stronger to break it. If that didn’t work, he’d just have to wait for Schlatt to show up and then break the window and book it. “Are you busy right now?” 

“And what, pray tell, would I be doing on a Thursday morning?” Static sounds came from the background on Schlatt’s end. Wilbur wasn’t sure if he wanted to know. “I’m all out of weed right now. Plus, I thought you and Q switched to the blond football player's dad after the whole fallout thing? Are you suddenly too good for upperclass weed?” 

“I don’t need weed, I need a ride.” Wilbur didn’t have anything in his room that would be helpful to break the window lock. “Also, random question, but if you were stuck in a room with an electronic lock on the window, how would you go about breaking it?” 

Laughter sounded from the phone, straight into Wilbur’s ear. He’d pull away if it didn’t result in his phone falling. “Wilbur Soot-Watson are you trying to break out of your house right now?” 

“Depends. Are you going to pick me up or not?” 

“No way,” Schlatt laughed, something popping in the background, “I’m not helping my suicidal friend sneak out of his house. I’m no idiot, I don’t want you to go and do something stupid. Stop being a dumbass and stay in your room.” 

“Please Schlatt,” Schlatt’s refusal sent a sudden, blinding rush of panic through Wilbur, “I need to get out of here. You don’t understand.” 

Wilbur’s hands started to shake and his breath hitched. It felt like the walls were closing in and he almost couldn’t hear Schlatt’s voice, “Nah. I get it. You want out and I can give you that. However, I’m not in the mood to babysit or watch you attempt to hurt yourself. I heard what happened with Techno. I’m not going to be next on your list of people watching you do dumb things. Stay home Wilbur.” 

Wilbur let go of the window, “I think I’m losing my mind in this fucking house.” His sentence was chopped, pants interrupting his voice. Schlatt went quiet on his end. Wilbur gripped his hair, the phone slipping a little from his ear. “I can’t stay here. I’m going to fucking lose my mind. You need to get me out of here. I can’t stay here. Please. I’ll do anything.” 

“Hey,” Schlatt must have moved because the background noise faded away, “calm the fuck down. Breathe. Sit the fuck down.” 

“I can’t.” When his eyes met his reflection, Wilbur realized he was crying. He looked like a mess, red eyes and pale skin. He was shaking. “Schlatt please get me the fuck out of here.” 

“I can’t do that Wilbur.” Schlatt sounded a little… apologetic. If Wilbur wasn’t lost in his own mind, he might have found it funny. “You aren’t losing your mind, sit down and breathe. It’s going to be fine.” 

“I can’t live the rest of my life like this,” Wilbur couldn’t hear anything but his own breathing and racing thoughts, “walking around on fucking eggshells. I can’t live anymore. I’m going fucking insane and I can’t stop it. I feel like I’m going to snap at any moment and hurt someone. I can’t do that. God, why won’t it stop!” His voice was rising towards the end. Schlatt said something in his ear but Wilbur couldn’t hear him. “I need OUT! LET ME OUT!” 

He wasn’t sure what he threw, but it hit the wall next to his window with a resounding crash. Wilbur gripped his hair tighter at the sound, turning and staring at the dent in the wall. “Wilbur?” He heard Phil’s voice from downstairs, confused and worried. 

Apparently, it was loud enough for Schlatt to hear too. “Wilbur calm the fuck down before you hurt yourself.” Schlatt sounded stressed. There was the sound of hurried feet and a pounding on Wilbur’s door. “Is that Phil? Let him in.” 

Wilbur ignored him, falling to his knees and grabbing his head with both hands. The phone slipped away from his ear and landed on the floor next to him, Schlatt’s voice disappearing along with it. “I have to go, I can’t stay here. She was right. All I do is break things. Let me out, let me out, let me out—”

“Wilbur, open the door!” Phil knocked loudly, his voice trembling with worry. Wilbur was aware that his dad and Schlatt could hear everything he was saying, but he could do nothing but cry out. Phil tried the door handle, cursing under his breath. 

“Let me out please,” Wilbur sobbed, “I can’t stay in here. I can’t live like this. I just want to leave. Please, let me leave.” 

Somehow, Phil made it into the room without breaking down the door. His dad approached him, reaching out a hand but stopping before he could touch Wilbur. “Wilbur, I need you to breathe .” Wilbur only shook his head, his body racked with sobs. “Wilbur… Can I touch you?” He must have nodded because Phil’s hands softly grabbed his wrists, pulling his hands away from his head. “There we go.” Phil hummed, moving onto the floor with Wilbur. “It’s okay Wilbur. Take a deep breath, it’s okay.” 

“No it’s not,” He couldn’t stop the sobs from leaving his voice, “I can’t stay here Dad. I need to leave, I have to get out of here–” 

Phil rubbed his shoulder, “Why? Do you not feel safe here?” 

“I’m going to hurt someone if I stay. I can’t stay here. I ruin everything I touch.” Wilbur gasped out. He wanted to rip into his hair again, to hold in the urge to hurt something, but Phil stopped his hand before it could reach up again. “My mom was right. I’m disgusting. All I do is bring suffering to the people around me. I was born to hurt people and I can’t do anything to stop it.” 

“She’s a liar, y’know?” Phil’s voice was calm even though Wilbur could feel his hands shaking. “She’s a liar and a horrible person. Whatever bad things she told you, they weren’t true. God Wilbur, you were just a kid. You were 7. She had no right to tell you those things.” Phil’s hands gently cupped his cheeks, softly pulling his head up until he could meet Phil’s eyes. “She lied to you. You know how I know?” Wilbur shook his head a little, causing Phil to smile sadly at him. “You are such a good person. You are so full of love, even at your worst. You love everyone and everything so much that sometimes it hurts you, and I admire that in you. I don’t know anyone who loves as much as you do.” 

It was hard for him to believe, especially after the events of this morning. How could he be a good person after all the stuff he has said and done to his family? “How can you say that after I was so mean this morning?” 

“Believe it or not,” Phil’s smile didn’t leave his face, “but people make mistakes. We say things we don’t really mean. We hurt people. It doesn’t make us bad people. Yes, what you said this morning was very out of line, but we understand you are hurting right now Wilbur. We want nothing more than to help you. All of us want you to be safe and happy.” Phil paused, before regaining himself and continuing on. “I’m sorry you feel trapped here. I’m sorry you think you are going to hurt us. I promise you that, in the chance that you do, we won’t hold it against you. You aren’t going to be stuck in the house forever. Anytime you want to go out, let me know and we can go. Anytime, anywhere.” 

“Even 3am?” Wilbur couldn’t help but joke. 

Phil laughed, “Even 3am. This isn’t a punishment Wilbur. I just know you, you are so smart and so stubborn. If I let you roam free you might try again. I don’t want to lose you. I’m sorry I never expressed to you why.” 

“I’m sorry,” it slipped out softly, “for hurting you. For wanting to die. For being like this so soon after we lost Kristen.” 

“Don’t apologize for having a hard time.” It brought more tears to Wilbur’s eyes. “I know you just turned 18 but you are still just a kid Wilbur. No one is expecting you to be perfect. I’m not expecting you to immediately feel better, or happier, or whatever you think you need to be. I just want you to be safe and right now, I can’t trust that you have your own best interests in mind. So we are going to work on that, together, for as long as you need. What’s that saying, ‘Rome wasn’t built in a day?’” Phil removed one of his hands, the other one moving up to the top of Wilbur’s hair in order to softly mess it up. “Now let’s get you up and into bed.” 

“I’m not 10 years old anymore Phil, you don’t have to tuck me into bed.” 

“You might not be 10 anymore, but you will always be my kid.” Phil pulled away to stand up, reaching down a hand to help pull Wilbur up. He accepted, standing up with a wince. Phil sent him a worried look, “You okay?” 

“My head hurts. I, uh, think I might have pulled my hair too hard.” Wilbur reached up to rub a hand on the back of his head, wincing again when it touched a sensitive spot. 

Phil motioned for Wilbur to sit down, “Stay there I’ll be back in a second.” He started to walk off, before noticing Wilbur’s phone on the ground and reaching down to pick it back up. He handed it to Wilbur with a smile. “Tell whoever ‘Assfuck’ is that it’s going to be okay. I’m sure they are worried about you.” He left after that, assumingly returning in a minute. 

The realization that Schlatt must still be on the call caused blood to rush up to Wilbur’s face. Great. He wouldn’t live this one down. For a minute he considered just hanging up the phone but decided against it. Schlatt deserved better. Probably. 

He placed the phone back up to his ear, “Hey Schlatt.” 

Schlatt’s voice was clear on the other end, “Hey there Virgo. Feeling better?” 

“You are literally a Virgo.” When he spoke, his voice came out a lot rasper than he expected it too. He winced, “Uh. Sorry about all of that.” 

A low hum filled his ear, surprisingly calming. “No offense Pretty Boy, but I’ve seen you worse. Remember last year when you got really drunk and—” 

“Yeah we promised not to talk about that.” He cut Schlatt off with a chuckle, “Seriously. I’m sorry. Not only for what you had to listen to, but for only calling you when I wanted something from you. I should have reached out to you sooner.” 

“You should have done a lot of things dumbass,” If it had come from anyone else but Schlatt, Wilbur might have been offended, “Like, I dunno, talk about your problems? Tell someone that you aren’t doing well? Said literally anything before deciding to jump off a bridge.” Schlatt sighed, “I don’t know man. I’m not mad at you. It’s hard to be mad at someone like you, it’s like being mad at a kitten. Just. Talk to me next time. Preferably before you have a huge breakdown and try to jump out of a window.” 

“How’d you know I tried to jump out a window?” 

“You asked me how to break a lock on a window, Wilbur. I’m sure you weren’t trying to escape from the kitchen window.” Schlatt must have been walking around in his house because Wilbur heard the sound of a door closing and another voice speak up. Schlatt didn’t say anything for a minute, before addressing Wilbur again. “Go take a nap. You need some rest. I have to go.” 

Wilbur frowned a little but didn’t argue, “Fine. Bye Schlatt. Don’t be an idiot.” 

“I won’t. Also, change my name from ‘Assfuck’ you little bitch.” He pulled the phone away when the dial tone sounded out. Part of him was glad he didn’t have to talk emotions with Schlatt right now. Another part of him missed talking to someone who treated him the same way, regardless of his mental state. 

Phil came back about a minute or so after Schlatt hung up, a water bottle and bottle of pills in his hands. Wilbur caught a glimpse of blond hair hiding away as Phil entered the room, but turned his attention back to Phil. He hadn’t seen any medicine since his attempt, seeing as Phil had hid it all away. He guessed he should be happy it wasn’t thrown away. “Here,” Phil handed him the water bottle and shook out two pills into his hand, “that should help with the headache and make you a little sleepy. Normally, I would have just given you normal pain meds but you can do with a nap right now.” 

Wilbur raised an eyebrow, “Sleeping meds? You giving me the good shit they gave Techno?” 

Phil snorted and rolled his eyes, “No Wilbur I’m giving you Tylenol PM. I’m not drugging you with Techno’s pain medicine.” 

“Damn, worth a shot.” Wilbur took the pills with a big gulp of water before laying down on his bed and closing his eyes. Phil moved near him but Wilbur was too tired to look. Though he couldn’t help but laugh as Phil nudged him to the pillows and placed a blanket over him. “I was serious when I said you didn’t have to tuck me into bed, Phil.” 

Phil’s voice came from the left of him, “I wasn’t kidding when I said you would always be my kid Wilbur. You are never too old to be tucked in.” 

A soft thud from next to the bed caused Wilbur to shuffle a little bit, “What are you doing?” 

“Resting.” Phil responded. Wilbur felt the fleeting brush of Phil’s hair against his arm as his dad moved into a more comfortable position. “Go to sleep.” 

“Fine. Don’t complain to me when your back hurts later, old man.” 

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” 

Wilbur wasn’t sure how long it took him to fall asleep, but when he woke up to get a drink, Phil was still there. He must have fallen asleep, seeing as he was breathing deeply with his head resting against the side of Wilbur’s bed. It didn’t look very comfortable, but Wilbur didn’t have the heart to wake him up. 

Shifting from next to him startled Wilbur, his head whipping to the side where his eyes landed on Tommy’s sleeping form. His younger brother must have crawled into his bed while he was sleeping. He wondered if Tommy had waited until Phil also fell asleep, or if his father had allowed him to. His heart warmed at the sight. He got up to get a glass of water, quietly opening his twin’s door to check on him. Techno didn’t notice, his back to the door and earphones on. He seemed fine. Wilbur went back into his room, and took a look at his family.

He crawled back into bed and joined them in sleeping.

~

December 1st, 2021

Hey, 

It’s officially the holiday season. Well, it has been for awhile, but I never count Thanksgiving. Despite living in America for almost 8 years now, I still don’t really celebrate the holiday. Still a bit too British for it. Techno likes it though. 

Things are… interesting right now? It’s almost winter break which is nice. Means I have more time to spend with George. Phil also promised that I can have a break from homeschooling as well, which is nice. George has already told me he plans on trying to live with us for the whole break. I wonder if Phil will let him. It’ll be fun to see how long George lasts before Phil says anything. 

Talking about homeschooling, it’s not as bad as I thought it would be. I would still much rather prefer to be out of the house and in school so I’m able to talk to people that aren’t just my dad, but Phil’s not that bad of a teacher. It’s funny to try and watch him teach me shit he hasn’t seen since highschool. He tries, which is all I can ask for I guess. 

I can tell he’s really trying in general these days. It’s nice. Our relationship is a little bit better nowadays. 

I can’t lie to you, or well, myself. Whatever. I can’t lie, I’m still mad at him. I don’t want to be. I know he’s doing his best, but it’s still hard. I hate being stuck in the house. We go out and do more things after my… incident, but still. I can’t go anywhere without him. Sometimes, a man just wants to go on a date with his hot boyfriend without his dad lurking around. 

George thought it was funny at least, and Phil paid for dinner. It wasn’t a complete loss. Still a loss, but whatever. It could be worse. Imagine if George wasn’t used to my family yet, or didn’t like them. I shudder at the thought. 

Things aren’t all sunshine and rainbows though. Techno won’t even sit in the same room as me anymore, unless its for a family meal. He comes down at the last minute and is the first to leave. Phil told me to not take it personally, that Techno’s just having a bad time right now, but I can’t help but worry that I ruined my relationship with him. He’s my brother, my constant. I miss him. 

I’m not ready to apologize yet, though. George told me not to make meaningless apologies. Does that make me a bad person? That I’m not ready to say sorry to my brother for telling him he ruined my life, when it was never his fault? 

Dr. Rivera told me everyone heals at their own pace. She’s been having me work on saying nicer things about myself as well, which is very funny. I like to annoy her by saying things like ‘I have brown eyes and thats cool’ instead of the deep bullshit she wants me too. 

George said the ability to start making normal jokes again is me healing. I think he’s just happy I’m not making death jokes anymore. Or, at least not as often. The occasional comment still comes out from time to time. 

I can’t help it. It’s almost a habit at this point. 

I’m not sure I have anything else to tell you right now? I hung out with Schlatt the other day. Supervised, of course, but it was still fun. He managed to sneak me some weed that George and I smoked that night. Phil was only a little mad about it. I think he was just happy it wasn’t a cigarette or alcohol. Weed’s nicer anyway. Tobacco sucks. 

George would have a field day if he knew I thought that. 

Talking about George, he’s been spending as many nights as possible at my place. I think he misses me. He says its just to make sure I’m not all alone, but he definitely misses me. After all, I miss him every second he’s not here. 

Nothing else to really touch base on. Hope you are doing well, future me or whoever is reading this. Unless its Dr. Rivera. I’m still mad at you about the gay joke. I walked into it, sure, but you didn’t have to take the shot. 

Wilbur Soot-Watson

Chapter Text

He didn’t feel ready to talk about it until December. 

At first, Wilbur was embarrassed. He couldn’t meet Phil’s eyes for a couple of days, let alone be in the same room as Techno and Tommy. He spent the majority of his time on the couch with his headphones in and lost in some documentary or another. It took him a couple of days to compartmentalize everything, and when he was finally a bit more stable he returned to life as normal. 

Or, well, as normal as life can be considering everything. Wilbur was aware he had pushed too far and hurt his brothers, but Techno’s blatant refusal to be in the same room with him stung. Phil told him that he just needed time, the same way Wilbur did. Personally, Wilbur thought that Techno just hated him. It made more sense in his head. If he were in Techno’s place, he would hate him. 

When he told Tommy about his thoughts, his younger brother told him to shut up and stop being so self-centered. Admittedly, it was humbling. 

Still, Wilbur wasn’t ready to talk about his… breakdown. That’s what he had taken to calling it. Phil had tried to bring it up occasionally, but Wilbur always found a way to squeeze out of it. Once or twice, Tommy had also brought it up, but one snapped comment tended to stop the conversation. It made him feel bad, but he couldn’t talk about it. He couldn’t admit to being so vulnerable. 

See, Wilbur had always seen himself as some sort of emotional wall. Growing up the way he did, he had to develop a way to protect himself. He wasn’t as strong as others, so he couldn’t fight with his fists. Instead, Wilbur made due with what he had: a sharp mind and a sharper tongue. If he could project a persona of indifference and cockiness, his peers would come to respect him. Eventually it stopped being a defense mechanism and more of his normal personality. 

George was the first person to break through it and see the true him, but Wilbur still kept a couple of walls up. He told himself it was for everyone's safety. Truthfully, he knew it was because he was scared. 

So, Wilbur was surprised when he finally brought it up, weeks after the event with someone who wasn’t even involved in the incident itself. “So,” Wilbur had picked up very early on that Dr. Rivera had a bad habit of clicking her pen when she was thinking, “how’s homeschooling going?” 

“Eh,” Wilbur rolled his head so he was able to look at the ceiling, “it’s going. Phil does his best but I think he spends more time being confused over the lesson plans than actually teaching me things.” Wilbur had taken to laying down on the couch more often than he sat on it, sprawling his limbs out over the entire thing. Dr. Rivera hadn’t said anything about it yet so he doubted she cared all that much. “It’s kind of funny. He’s taken to trying to teach me the lesson plan before getting so annoyed that he just teaches me whatever he wants to. Yesterday I was supposed to do Pre-Calculus but instead Phil taught me some bullshit about taxes. Honestly,” he laughed, “I probably should have listened to that one. Could have been helpful in the future. Oops, guess that’s a problem for future Wilbur.” 

“I like that.” 

“Hmm?” Wilbur wasn’t paying that much attention to the conversation as he should have been, instead choosing to count the dots on the ceiling. He had a bad habit of blanking out during his appointments. Apparently it was common when talking about trauma. Wilbur still didn’t really consider himself traumatized. 

“What you just said, ‘that’s a problem for future Wilbur.’” Dr. Rivera sounded like she was smiling. Wilbur wouldn’t know, he was too focused on the dots. 165 – wait, no, he lost count again. Shit. “I think that’s the first time I’ve heard you talk about the future.”

Wilbur rolled his eyes, knowing his therapist couldn’t see him. She liked to call him out for his attitude when she noticed. Honestly, Dr. Rivera was starting to grow on him. She was cool. “What do you mean we talk about the future all of the time? Just last week we were chatting about my date with George. That was in the future.” 

“There’s a difference between talking about your future and talking about something that will happen later in the week.” Her pen made another clicking noise so Wilbur assumed she was about to write in her little book again. He still found it rather patronizing. “Yes, both of them are technically the future, but by addressing that you have a future problem to worry about, you are saying that you have a future to consider. That’s a huge step.” 

“Huh,” Wilbur blinked at the ceiling, “damn. You’re pretty good at this whole thing. Therapizing me without me even having me realize its happening. Next thing we know, I’m going to be spouting out some Gandhi shit as well.” 

Dr. Rivera snorted, “Thanks, it’s almost like it’s my job or something. Let’s not get too ahead of ourselves here, I don’t think the world is ready for you to start preaching Gandhi.” 

“Fair enough.” Wilbur moved so he was able to look at her. She was wearing a blouse the same shade as George’s favorite color today, something he couldn’t help but point at as soon as he had seen it. She had just smiled at him and laughed. “So I get an A+ for today's appointment? Good job Wilbur! You talked about the future!” 

“I think it’s something you should be proud of,” she responded, “it is a big step even if you don’t feel like it is. Try thinking more positively.” 

“I thought we agreed it was too soon for me to preach Gandhi.” 

“Saying nice things to yourself isn’t spreading activism Wilbur,” it was easy to tell that she was holding in a laugh which made Wilbur smile to himself, “it’s just self love. Let’s start with one nice thing?” 

“Sure.” Wilbur pretended to hum and haw over it, knowing it could cause his therapist to roll her eyes. “Let’s see! I can’t talk about my eyes, I did that last week. Apparently George isn’t me , so I’m not allowed to talk about him. I’m not sure what else–” He smiled at the small glare she sent him, “Fine, fine. I’ll stop messing with you. I have an amazing complexion.” 

Dr. Rivera sighed, “Seriously?” 

“What, do you disagree?” 

“If I didn’t know you any better, I would be worried about the fact that you only perceived your worth based on looks, but I know you are just giving me a hard time. So you are spared from that lecture this time.” She pointed her pen at him, “Next time I want an answer that isn’t about your looks, Wilbur.” 

“Bold of you to assume that I have any more answers.” He teased back, “But I’ll look into my sources for you. Gotta have something in there.” 

“Thank you,” Her tone was sarcastic, which made him break into a bigger smile. He was glad that Dr. Rivera had quickly caught onto the fact he wasn’t a big serious talker and didn’t tend to baby him or anything. She joked and teased him the same way a friend would. It was nice, and made the whole thing a little easier on him. “Anything you want to talk about in specific today? Or is it just another chatting session where we play tug of rope with your personal details?” 

“Actually, yeah.” Wilbur tried to not be shocked by his own answer, “I do have something I want to talk about if that’s okay.” 

“Of course it’s okay, I’m here to help you first and foremost. Where would you like to start?” 

“Uh,” it had been long enough that some of the details had started to blur together, “it started with breakfast a couple of weeks ago. Techno was finally allowed to go back to school and Tommy brought up how he hadn’t really left the house much and how he must have missed the real world.” 

“Must have been hard for you to hear.” 

“Exactly!” Wilbur threw his hands up in the air, “It sucked! Though I know he didn’t mean it like that,” he lowered his arms, “and I said some pretty bad things to the both of them in return. Things that were cruel and unnecessary…” He trailed off. 

“I’m proud of you for admitting that you were in the wrong.”  

“I’m not proud of myself,” it came out as a whisper, “I should have never said those things. I didn’t mean them, I never have and never will. I, uh, made a comment about Tommy’s parents. I don’t know if I ever told you this, but when Tommy was 8 his parents went out to get groceries and they were shot and killed. Phil’s his uncle and took him in after they died. It was hard on him, and it still is. I had no right to bring it up.” Wilbur rubbed one of his hands on his arm. The guilt was suffocating him, as if he was choking on smoke. “I blamed Techno for things going wrong in our lives, like he had any more control in it than I did. I acted like Techno also hasn’t suffered from the mistakes of our parents, and like he ruined my life. It might feel like it sometimes, but I know it wasn’t true.” 

“What do you mean by that?” 

“By what?” 

Pen on paper, the sound of Dr. Rivera’s writing calming him in a way. He wondered if that was also part of the notepad agenda. Probably not. Seemed too niche. “That sometimes it feels like Techno ruined your life?” 

Wilbur hesitated for a minute. It wasn’t a path he had foreseen himself going on, or talking about, ever. His jealousy of Techno was something he had always, always kept under wraps. It was a secret between no one but himself. “That came out worse than I expected.” 

“Did you not mean it?” 

“I did mean it,” The words tasted like acid, “That’s what hurts the most. I do mean it. It makes me feel disgusting, blaming Techno for something so far out of his control that the parallel shouldn’t even be there. There isn’t a world in the universe where it is his fault…” 

“But sometimes it feels like it.” 

“Yeah,” he admitted, “sometimes it does. I know its not, I can understand that its not his fault, but sometimes the rage grows in me and I can’t help but wonder why it was him and not me. Why our mother loved him so much and hated me so much more. What did he have that I didn’t? What was he that I never got the chance to be? Is it something born in him that I lacked, or was it just the roll of the dice?” 

“Do you wish to explain?” 

“I… I’ve spent a lot of my life lying. Lying to Phil, to Tommy, to George , to anyone who would listen. Techno never bothered to correct it or even acknowledge it, but I’ve always lied about our parents. I told these pretty little lies about what kind of people they were and why they left us. I told people that my father was the Governor and my mother dreamed of being a painter. That she would take me outside and hum along to music as she painted, how our father loved us but was distant because of work. It was all one big lie.” It was the first time Wilbur had admitted to anyone about his lies, and the words left him in a downpour. It tasted like… relief. “We never knew our dad. He left before we were born because he was ashamed. Of himself, of my mother, of what they had done . See, they were both extremely religious and had broken the oath they swore to their God. My father wouldn’t allow his name to be dragged in the mud. My mother didn’t have a choice. Either way, she was breaking what she believed to be God’s words. My mom told me something when we were kids. She told me that when Techno was born, God spoke to her and forgave her. However, when I was born it was the Devil who whispered into her ear. She blamed me from the minute that I was born for her mistakes, believing me to be her divine punishment. She called me a sinner, the spawn of evil. Never once did those words leave her mouth in regards to Techno. He was pure. I was sin.” Emotion overwhelmed him and Wilbur couldn’t help but stop in an attempt to push them back in. Dr. Rivera didn’t interrupt. “It was hard to believe anything other than what was constantly told to me. I believe that I am evil, because I never had the chance to be anything other than evil. I was born like this. I can’t escape it.” 

Silence grew between the two of them. At first Wilbur wasn’t sure why Dr. Rivera wasn’t saying anything, but it dawned on him that she might be waiting for him to finish. He nodded, and she spoke up. “I’ve been in this business a long time, and I’ve helped a lot of people. Good people, bad people, good people who made bad choices and bad people who made good choices. The world isn’t as black and white as you were raised to believe.” She clicked her pen shut. “Evil isn’t genetic. We aren’t born evil, just as we aren’t born good. We simply start off as a blank canvas to be painted upon. Wilbur, you aren’t the child of Evil. You aren’t hopeless or a sinner, if that’s even what you believe in. You are a human being, just like me. Just like Techno. He is no more pure than you are, and you are no more evil than he is.” 

“I’m not sure I can believe that.” Wilbur whispered. The idea was incomprehensible to him. “I don’t think I have any good in me at all. Not after the things I’ve said, done, and felt. I feel like I’m this ticking time bomb of rage, as if I’m going to explode at any given moment. Any little thing makes me want to snap, to go into a rage and take as many people down with me as I can. I feel like I’m going crazy, constantly battling these two sides in my head, and I’m scared that one day the true side will win out. The side my mother always told me I was.” 

“You aren’t crazy Wilbur, just as you aren’t evil. You are depressed. You are struggling. You are healing . You aren’t going to be perfect.”

“Isn’t depression supposed to make me, I don’t know, sad? Don’t get me wrong I am sad, I feel like I’ve always been a little sadder than most people, but not enough to be depressed.” He focused on the ceiling in an attempt to stabilize himself. The dots stared back, judging him for his sins. 

“Just like life, depression isn’t as black and white as people are led to believe.” Dr. Rivera’s tone of voice hadn’t changed since they started the more serious conversation, as relaxed and calming as she tended to be when they talked like this. Wilbur wasn’t sure how she did it. How she handled it all. “Being angry is a symptom of depression and it can lessen the control on said emotion. It’s not as uncommon as you think it would be. You aren’t going crazy.” 

Wilbur couldn’t hold back his snort, “Oh so I couldn’t even get the easy version of depression, huh?” 

“There is no easy version of depression, Wilbur. Everyone adapts and deals with it in different ways. You just happen to experience anger more often than sadness. That’s okay. It’s something that we can work on, something you can control. You aren’t broken or any less worthwhile than others.” 

“It doesn’t feel like it.” Tears grew in his eyes but Wilbur refused to let them fall. “I feel so broken. I had a breakdown not too long ago, I tried to break out of the house and lost my shit once my friend said he wouldn’t come get me. Almost broke my window and probably would have jumped out of it if I had. Phil had to calm me down before I hurt myself.” 

“When was this?” 

“The same day I fought with Techno and Tommy. It happened immediately after. Once I got in my room, it felt like the walls were closing in on me and I was scared. Scared of myself , of what I could do and what I could say. I was scared of how easy it was to hurt the people I care so much about.” 

“But it wasn’t easy.” 

“Huh?” Wilbur finally looked at her, confusion clouding his brain. “I mean, it was? After all I said all of it.” 

“But it wasn’t easy for you Wilbur,” Dr. Rivera met his eyes with an unwavering gaze, “you did feel regret and guilt. You felt bad, and thats why you felt trapped. You were scared of what you had done. You were scared of how it made you feel . You aren’t a bad person Wilbur. Bad people wouldn’t feel so much guilt after doing what you did.” 

“Being guilty doesn’t change the fact that I did it.” 

“No, it doesn’t. But being remorseful shows that you are capable of fixing it. This isn’t you Wilbur. You won’t be like that forever. You aren’t evil, or broken. You are healing , and it’s painful. Just as all healing is. After all, wounds hurt and bleed but they always heal.”

~

December 16th, 2021

Hey, 

Guess who just experienced a weird, life changing event! This guy! I would tell you about it, but I sure as hell don’t want to relive it. You will find out soon anyway. You always tend to do that. 

I’m not sure when I started to treat this journal like its own person, but hey. If it works, it works I guess. 

Anyway, my life changing event. Yep. That happened. I was dumb and someone stopped me. Honestly, I’m not too sure how to feel about it. I guess I’m mostly embarrassed. Scared too. I don’t want to know what will happen if Phil finds out… 

I guess I shouldn’t go into detail in case Phil gets his hands on this. That would kind of defeat the whole purpose, I guess. 

Still, I owe Dream one. He kind of put things into perspective for me, in his own weird way. I’m still no saint, but he might have had a point. It’s weird to think about. I think in another life, I would be very thankful for that man. He’s rather… optimistic. It’s refreshing. 

Not much else to talk about. Techno talked to me finally, but again that had to do with the Thing I Shouldn’t Talk About, so I won’t go into detail. I wouldn’t say we are on good terms, but we can stand to be in the same room again. 

I’ve been working on my feelings regarding him with Dr. Rivera. She’s helping me work on forgiving myself and letting go. It’s becoming easier to understand that Techno was a victim of our mothers as well, not just me. She’s helping me see it from another point of view. It’s… helping. 

I don’t think I blame him anymore. 

Wilbur Soot-Watson

~

Therapy was exhausting. By the time that his session ended, Wilbur wanted nothing more than to go home, crawl into bed, and sleep the night away. Sadly, it wouldn’t be that easy, seeing as the receptionist called him over before he could step out the door. “Mr. Soot-Watson!” She called with a smile, “Your father called to tell us that your brother’s doctor appointment has run over a bit and that he won’t be able to come get you right away. He said he’s sent a friend to come get you.” She gestured to the lobby, where George sat on his phone. 

Their eyes met and George smiled. Wilbur would have honestly never noticed him if she hadn’t pointed him out, he was that exhausted. He sent a nod in her direction before approaching George, a smirk growing on his face. “Oh? And how do you expect to get me home babe? You can’t drive.” 

George matched his smirk with a laugh, standing up and reaching out for Wilbur’s hand. He let his boyfriend grab it and lead him out of the building. “I stole a car–” 

“Hot.” 

He barely caught George’s eye roll, “You are such a dumbass.” With his free hand, George pointed to a nice black car parked near where Phil normally would be. Wilbur recognized it immediately. “Phil wanted a ‘responsible adult’ to keep an eye on you so I wasn’t allowed to have Karl take me. Apparently, we don’t count. However, Mr. Oaklend does!” 

Wilbur met his smile with one of his own, “Oh hell yeah. Are you guys taking me home or do I finally get to go somewhere that isn’t my house or therapy?” 

“Phil doesn’t want you to be alone so you are coming with us,” they were almost at the car, “and he said you can stay for a while before he comes and picks you up. Though, we are under supervision.” 

Wilbur pouted, “Damn I wanted to make out.” 

“Too bad.” George opened the passenger door for him, hopping back when Wilbur tried to shove him in instead. “Nope! Get your long ass legs up front. I’ll be fine back here.” 

Muffled laughter greeted Wilbur as he caved and entered the car. “Hey Mr. Oaklend.” Wilbur greeted him, smiling when the older man met his eyes. Honestly, this might have been the happiest Wilbur had been in sometime. “Thanks for picking me up from hell–” George kicked his seat, “--from therapy! That’s what I said the first time.” 

“Sure you did.” George’s mumble was barely heard due to the sound of the car starting and Mr. Oaklend’s laughter. 

“Hello Wilbur. It’s nice to see you again.” Mr. Oaklend started to back up the car, “You look happier today. Did you have a good appointment?” 

Wilbur hummed, stretching backwards and wrapping his hands around the headrest. George flicked his hand. Wilbur ignored him. “As well as therapy can get. We had a good conversation. It was alright I guess.” 

“I’m glad.” 

“Me too,” George butted in from the back of the car, “I’m happy you have someone to talk to that can help you better then we can.” 

Wilbur couldn’t help but look over his shoulder and met George’s eyes with his own. “You help me plenty Georgie.” It came out more sincere than joking. Wilbur was okay with that. Anything for George. “Don’t doubt your self worth, baby. You are one of the only things that matter.” 

George sent him a soft smile, but must have read the exhaustion in Wilbur’s eyes because he didn’t push the seriousness. “Oh? What are the other things? Money? Drugs?” 

He jokingly rolled his eyes, “Obviously it’s math George. What do you think I am? I would never participate in consuming a drug.” 

“Ah yes, a singular drug. One whole marijuana.” Mr. Oaklend’s loud guaff at George’s comment reminded Wilbur that they weren’t alone in the car. For a minute, Wilbur was able to pretend that it was like the old days, where it was just Wilbur and George driving to school. Though, this was okay too.

They spent most of the drive chatting, Wilbur and George constantly going at one another with Mr. Oaklend laughing at them. It was nice. It felt like… home. He spent almost the entire ride smiling. 

When Mr. Oaklend parked his car, he turned to Wilbur with a smile. “As much as I’m sure you would love to go and hide in George’s place, you do have to stay downstairs with me.” 

He wanted to be angry at Phil. Honestly, part of him was angry with Phil, but he knew he had to meet his dad somewhere in the middle. He couldn’t expect full trust right away. He had to show that he was worth it. “I get it. Hey,” he winked at Mr. Oaklend, “I have to earn George’s rent somehow. He sure as hell doesn’t.” 

A smack to the back of his head caused Wilbur to yelp, “Shut the hell up. I earn my keep everyday by dealing with your ass–” 

“Be nice George.” 

“Yeah,” Wilbur stuck his tongue out at his boyfriend, “be nice to me Georgie. I’m fragile.” 

Mr. Oaklend walked away to unlock the door, leaving the two of them to chat alone for a minute. “Stick your tongue out at me one more time and I’ll give you a reason to call yourself fragile.” 

“Ah, yes, I forgot you liked me sticking my tongue in other places instead.” Wilbur winked at him, trying to hold in his laughter as George reached over to smack him again, his face beet red. “Rude.” 

“He can still hear you, you idiot.” 

“I’m sure he’s heard worse.” Wilbur winked again, not being able to hold in his laughter as George let out a long and disappointed sigh. 

George sent him a look full of suffering, causing Wilbur to only laugh that much harder. “I hate you. Get back in the car, I'm taking you home.” 

“No,” Wilbur forced his voice into a high pitch whine, “Georgie no I need you.” He couldn’t help but let out a loud, fake moan as he wrapped George into his arms, picking him up easily. 

George immediately screamed, wiggling in his arms. “Put me the fuck down.” Wilbur could only laugh as he lifted George higher into the air. “Wilbur Soot put me down before I kick your ass.” 

“That’s kinky.” Amusement tasted like sunlight. Having George in his arms again, laughing and joking, felt like summers spent under the sun, freshly in love when they were 15. Wilbur hoped that his time spent with George would always feel like this. 

Like… love.

Chapter Text

December 25th, 2021 

Merry Christmas, 

That felt weird to write, not going to lie. I never thought I’d see another Christmas when I stepped onto that bridge with Techno. It’s nice to be here. I guess I can admit that now. 

I’m glad I made it this far. Christmas has always had a special place in my heart, ever since Kristen and Phil adopted me. Though, I do miss Kristen every Christmas. I don’t believe in any sort of God, but I do hope if there is an afterlife, that she is watching out for me. 

I hope she’s not disappointed. Really, I know she isn’t. 

Dr. Rivera told me that a large part of healing is admitting things to myself, even if I might not believe in them yet. So here’s a list of things I’m starting to believe: 

-George loves me (I know this. It’s just nice to tell myself) 

-Phil doesn’t blame me for what I did 

-Techno doesn’t hate me. He just needs time (Don’t we all) 

-I have people who care about me 

-It’s okay to talk about my feelings. It doesn’t make me weak 

-Kristen would be happy to see me getting better. She would be proud of me for trying

-My birth mother was wrong to say those things to me 

-Neglect is a form of abuse. Just because she didn’t hit me doesn’t mean she didn’t hurt me

-I don’t need to lie

-I… am a good person

Some of these are easier to believe than others. The last one is especially hard to convince myself, but I’m trying. Dr. Rivera told me I should try writing it down over and over again but honestly, that just stressed me out. I’ll stick to talking to myself in the mirror like a weirdo. 

So yeah, Christmas plans. Obviously, George is coming over. He mentioned a while back that his mom might come out, but I guess she changed her mind when he talked about coming over to my place. That’s okay with me. I hate her guts. 

I feel like I should try to care about my future family member a little bit more but nah. She’s a bitch. We can do without her. 

I just realized I said that like I’m going to marry George. Good. Staking my claim early. He’s my pretty little boyfriend, no one else can have him. If I have to stick around, I’m keeping him. 

Heres to hoping for a good Christmas and hell, maybe a great New Year. Maybe I shouldn’t get that ahead of myself. Yet. 

Wilbur Soot-Watson :)

~

Surprisingly, Wilbur noticed that a lot of things happened at breakfast. It might have been due to the fact that it was one of the only times the whole family was gathered together, or maybe it was Wilbur’s deep rooted hatred for breakfast that stemmed from his childhood. Either way, something always happened because of breakfast. 

He wondered if he should stop going. He decided against it. Phil could make a mean omelet and Wilbur couldn’t risk missing out.

So, Wilbur’s life changing eventual day started at breakfast with an offhand comment from Techno. “I think I’m going to bring a friend over after school today.” His twin’s voice was bored as he pushed his cereal around with a spoon, absentmindedly blowing some of his pink hair out of his face. Wilbur noted that it was in a looser braid than normal, almost as if Techno didn’t have the energy to do his hair this morning. Wilbur wouldn’t know. They still haven’t talked. “That shouldn’t be an issue, right?” 

Wilbur didn’t think so but he also knew the question really wasn’t for him . Sure, it was mostly about him, but he wasn’t the person Techno was asking. Honestly, Wilbur found it pretty annoying. It wasn’t like he was right there or anything. Phil glanced up from his open, “Oh yeah, sure. Go ahead.” 

“I’m bringing Tubs over too,” Tommy declared from his spot next to Wilbur, “We have some shit to do.” 

Wilbur winced at the volume, shooting his brother an amused look. “What can two 14 year olds have to do thats so important?” 

“I’ll have you know that we are both almost 15–” 

“You mean Tubbo is almost 15. You still have like, 6 months you child–” 

“5 months I’ll have you know!” 

“That’s enough,” Wilbur watched as Phil rolled his eyes at the two of them, “That’s fine Tommy. You can bring Tubbo over as well.” Phil shifted his attention to Wilbur, giving him a small smile, “Do you want to invite George over tonight as well? We can make a party out of it.” 

Wilbur only shrugged, “George comes over when George wants to. Plus, I think he has some plans with Karl tonight.” 

“The invitations open anytime, you know this.” Phil gave him a small smile, “No pressure though. If it gets too loud or anything, you can go upstairs and hang out.” 

Wilbur only nodded, taking a small sip of his coffee. He had managed to finally convince Phil that he should be allowed to drink coffee, which really, that was one of Phil’s big worries? He withheld coffee but somehow couldn’t stop Wilbur from smoking cigarettes? To be fair, Phil was vehemently against the cigarettes and would throw them out if he caught them on Wilbur, but still. Coffee. 

“Actually,” Techno finally looked up, his brown eyes exhausted, “I was hoping that we could use the family room. We wanted to play Minecraft.” Wilbur was a little shocked by the state of Techno. It looked like he hadn’t gotten a good night's sleep in weeks. Maybe his arm was bothering him? 

“That’s fine, Wilbur can go in his room if he wants to.” Phil corrected with a smile, “Or he can join you two in the family room to play some games. It might be fun.” 

He couldn’t help but shoot an awkward look at Techno, who didn’t meet his eyes. Wilbur understood that to be a flat out no. “I think I’ll just chill in my room,” Wilbur forced out an uncomfortable laugh, “I’m not feeling very… sociable today. Might just play some music or something.” 

While Wilbur wasn’t necessarily expecting anything, Techno’s lack of acknowledgement hit him pretty deep. He knew it was mostly his fault, but the fact that he couldn’t even meet his twin's eyes was starting to tear into him deep down. He tried to heed Dr. Rivera’s advice that Techno just needed some time, but it hurt. It was hard to know that Techno didn’t even want to be around him. 

Techno stood up, pouring his half eaten cereal down the drain. “We should get going, wouldn’t want to be late.” Techno called out to Tommy, who shoved the last couple bites of eggs into his mouth and rushed his plate to the sink. Techno finished rinsing his dish, turning to Phil, “I’ll bring Tommy and Tubbo back home with me.” 

“Thank you.” 

Together, Techno and Tommy left the kitchen and soon, the house. Wilbur could do nothing but sigh, slouching down in his chair a little bit. Phil glanced up from his phone again, sending Wilbur a small smile. “Sorry,” Wilbur groaned, “didn’t mean to do that aloud.” 

“I get it,” Phil set his phone down to focus his whole attention onto Wilbur, “You want to go out and do things too. I promise you, soon. Dr. Rivera called and told me that you are making a lot of progress and its obvious to see, but I still can’t help but worry. If…” Phil hesitated, “If you keep doing well, I’ll let you go back to school after Winter Break.” 

Wilbur perked up, “Promise?” 

“Yes, but I’m serious, Wilbur.” The air grew a bit tense and Wilbur found himself breaking eye contact with his dad as his voice grew serious, “I don’t want to send you back to school or give you free reign, and end up having to bury my son. I know this feels like a prison. I know this feels like a punishment, and I wish I could convince you that its not. I just can’t lose you. So, if something happens in the next couple of weeks and I think you might attempt again, I will continue homeschooling you.” 

“I understand.” He didn’t understand. Phil didn’t understand. How was Wilbur supposed to heal when he was stuck in one of the places that tormented him the most? He couldn’t leave the house, couldn’t leave his mind , so focused on the bad thoughts that sometimes it felt like he was drowning all over again. Wilbur wanted to be better and do better, but he was sure it wasn’t for the right reasons. 

He wanted to be better so he could leave, not for himself. He could care less about himself. He just wanted to be able to go outside again, without a shadow. 

“Okay.” Phil nodded at him, standing up to pick up his and Wilbur’s dishes. “Get started on the classwork Techno needs to turn in for you next week. We can study later, I have some things I need to do for work before we start. Would you like to stay at the table with me, or go into the living room?” 

Wilbur sighed to himself, “The table works.” With that said and done, Phil left the room to quickly return with a handful of papers and his laptop. Giving the papers to Wilbur, Phil sat down and started working. Wilbur prepared himself for another boring, slow day. 

If only he knew. 

~

Techno returned home a couple of hours later, two loud teenagers in his wake. By that time of day Wilbur was already done with his work and studying, so he was able to watch as the three of them entered the front door together from his spot on the couch. Techno took the time to hang up his car keys while Tubbo and Tommy immediately booked it into the kitchen, arguing over snacks. The sound drew Phil’s attention, his father making his way downstairs. 

“My friend is going to come by in about an hour,” Techno said as he adjusted his backpack, “he has some stuff to wrap up at school. I’m going to be in my room until then, trying to finish most of my homework for the weekend.” 

Phil only nodded, stepping off the stairs and making room for Techno to pass by, “Is he going to spend the night?” 

“Nah. He’s got lunch with his sister tomorrow.” Techno shrugged, “And a date I think? See ya.” He headed up the stairs without even the slightest acknowledgement to Wilbur. 

He couldn’t help but frown. Phil easily picked up on it, “You just need to give him some more time.” Phil’s voice caused Wilbur to jump a bit. “Words hurt. Trust me, he knows you didn’t mean it, but he needs some time to heal.” 

“He’s never been this mad at me before. Not even when we got in actual fist fights.”

“He’s not mad at you. He’s sad.” Phil joined him on the couch, leaning back with a drawn out sigh. These days, Phil was starting to look older and older. It was amazing what stress could do to someone. Phil’s normally bright blond air was starting to grey in small areas, a sign of the years growing on him. “He took that fight almost as badly as you did. Give him some space and soon, it’ll be like nothing ever happened.” 

Wilbur wanted to speak up. He wanted to tell his father that maybe Techno shouldn’t forgive him, maybe he should spend the rest of his life away from Wilbur lest he kept getting burned. He wanted to tell Phil that the damage was already done and that nothing would ever be the same again. 

Wilbur said none of these things. 

Just as Techno had said, it only took about an hour for the doorbell to ring. Wilbur had just been chilling on the couch, texting George and ignoring the screams of Tommy and Tubbo, so he was the first one to reach the door to open it. 

The man in front of him was semi-recognizable. Around the same height as Techno, therefore a little bit shorter than Wilbur himself, with messy blond hair and bright green eyes. He met Wilbur’s gaze with a bright smile, highlighting the dozen or so freckles splattered across his face. His body type seemed to be a middle ground between Techno and Wilbur’s, lean yet muscular. 

He couldn’t help but assume that a lot of people would consider him attractive. Wilbur thought he kind of looked like a Chad.

The blond reached out a hand, the happy smile staying on his face, “Hi! I think we’ve met a couple of times before, but I’m–” 

“Dream.” Techno’s voice called out from behind Wilbur as he made his way downstairs. Wilbur immediately moved out of the way, allowing Dream into the house. Techno reached them quickly, ignoring Wilbur’s presence as always. “Took you long enough, I was starting to think you ditched me.” 

Dream focused his attention onto Techno, lowering his hand before Wilbur had the chance to shake it. Great, now he felt rude. “Missing hanging out with you? I could never, you only reminded me a thousand times today.” Wilbur couldn’t help but watch as Dream easily bumped shoulders with Techno and walked farther into the house. Techno trailed behind him, their conversation fading from Wilbur’s attention as they headed up the stairs. 

As Wilbur went to close the front door, he couldn’t help but catch a glimpse of a car parked across the street. While he wasn’t much of a car person, he could immediately recognize that it was nice, and the bright lime green color of it easily alluded to its owner. Wilbur might have only barely known Dream, he vaguely recognized him from a couple of parties, but he knew enough to know that Dream had an odd obsession with lime green.

It made him think.

Wilbur spent the next couple of hours lounging on the couch, triple checking his plan. This would possibly be one of his only chances, so he had to make sure it all went flawlessly. Good thing Wilbur was known for his silver tongue. He wasn’t too worried about the first part of the plan. It was what happened next that concerned him. 

When he finally heard the sound of Techno’s bedroom door open, Wilbur quietly snuck out of the front door and sat on the curb. He had been allowed in the front yard for a while now so he wasn’t too worried about Techno possibly seeing him and not minding his business. Not that Techno would say anything to him at this point in time. 

Dream left the house alone. Truly, it was as if the stars shown upon Wilbur tonight. Dream immediately spotted him, approaching with soft footsteps. “Oh hey Wilbur, what are you doing out here?” 

Perfect. Wilbur pretended to check his phone, letting out a dramatic groan that caught Dream’s attention. “My friend was supposed to drop off some school work for me that my teacher forgot to give to Techno.” The lie spilled from his mouth with ease. Wilbur was in his element. “But I’m starting to think he forgot, and it’s due on Monday. I was hoping to get it done tonight so I could have the weekend free, my therapy appointment is tomorrow as well, but I don’t think thats going to happen. I hope I don’t get in trouble…” 

Wilbur watched from the corner of his eye as Dream paused next to him, nervously eyeing the front door. He looked unsure. Wilbur just needed to tug a little harder. “I can go grab Techno?” Dream offered, “See if he can go grab it for you?” 

“No that won’t work,” Wilbur made sure he was pouting as he turned to face Dream, “Techno won’t even talk to me right now. I don’t want to make it harder on him by concerning him with my problems…” He paused his sentence, pretending to think, “Hey! Would it be fine if you drove me down there real quick to pick it up? His place isn’t that far from here, it wouldn’t be that long of a trip!” 

A sense of glee rushed through him as Wilbur watched Dream glance at the door again, before looking back at Wilbur. “Are you sure thats okay? I wouldn’t want to get you in trouble.”

“I’m sure it will be fine,” Wilbur soothed, standing up and stretching, “I’d hate to bother Phil while Tommy and Tubbo are here. They aren’t allowed to be home without adult supervision, so it would become this whole trip. I’m sure he’ll be thankful for the help.” 

“Okay,” Dream still looked a bit nervous but smiled at Wilbur nonetheless, “I’ll drive you there and back. As long as you are sure it’s fine with Phil.” 

“I promise you Dream, it’s perfectly fine.” For some reason, a flash of guilt flickered in him as he watched Dream grin and head towards his car. It felt wrong to take advantage of Dream’s caring personality, but Wilbur was desperate at this point. It would be fine. Dream would get over it. 

Eventually.

Wilbur joined him in the car, pushing down his guilt and focusing on the task ahead. He did his best to turn off his phone as Dream was turning on the car, hoping the blond wouldn’t notice. He couldn’t have Phil calling him and ruining his plan. 

He couldn’t stop the rush of glee that ran through him as Dream pulled away from his house, the dim lighting in the car hiding his smile. “It’s not too far from here, just off of Marigold.” Wilbur instructed. This would take him close enough to get Dream to stop the car where he needed him to. 

“Okay,” Dream took a right, quickly glancing at Wilbur, “My phone is unlocked if you want to pick something to listen to. I’m not sure what you like, but you can play anything from Spotify, I don’t mind.” 

“No password?” Wilbur hummed, opening the phone and quickly closing out of Dream’s open text messages. God, he had a million tabs open too? What was he, a grandmother? “Thats bold.” 

“I don’t have anything to hide.” 

As Wilbur opened Spotify, the last song that had been playing started back up. Wilbur recognized the chorus. “ Heat Waves ? I never read you as a Glass Animals fan.” 

Laughing, Dream shrugged and sent him a smile. “I’m not a hardcore fan by any means, but they make good music what can I say?” 

“Still, Heat Waves? Can you pick anything more basic?” 

“I like the entire Dreamland album, but yeah. Heat Waves is my favorite.” 

The inner music snob in Wilbur was pushing through, “I can name like, 3 songs in that album alone that are better than Heat Waves. It’s good and all, but it’s so overplayed.” Dream sent him an amused look before focusing back on the road, “I mean have you ever noticed how Helium, the last song on the album, fades so perfectly into Dreamland? Which mind you, both of those songs are better then fucking Heat Waves. Don’t even get me started on Domestic Bliss. Hell, even Tokyo Drifting is better.” 

“You think Tokyo Drifting is better than Heat Waves?” Dream snorted, “I’ll give you Domestic Bliss and Helium. Both of those are amazing. Tokyo Drifting and Dreamland are a little too boring for me though. Still not bad, but come on? Better than Heat Waves?” 

Wilbur rolled his eyes, leaning back as he scrolled through Dream’s playlists. “You have no taste. Imagine thinking Heat Waves is better than Dreamland. It’s the name of the album for fucks sake.” 

“Still not as good as Heat Waves.” 

“I hate you,” Wilbur couldn’t believe it, “The man named Dream doesn’t like the song Dreamland.” 

“I never said I didn’t like it!” Dream defended, “It’s just not as good as Heat Waves.” 

“I can’t listen to this slander anymore.” Wilbur picked a playlist, scrolling through until he landed on another song. “Really? NF, AJR, Glass Animals, Britney Spears? What is this, your depression playlist?” 

Toxic started to play, causing Dream to let out another loud laugh, “Leave me alone she’s a hit. Plus, AJR makes happy music too. Don’t call me out like that.” 

“You have both of the Turning Out songs on here.” 

“Fair enough.” 

Wilbur managed to force himself to keep up with Dream’s mindless chatter as the ride went on. Dream was rather talkative, telling Wilbur stories from his childhood and all about his best friend, Sapnap. If Wilbur were a weaker man, he would have blanked out long ago, but if these last couple of months had taught him anything, it was to be resilient. 

When they finally reached the stretch of road Wilbur wanted to go to, he subtly checked behind them. Seeing the clear road, he made a choice that no one should ever make. “STOP THE FUCKING CAR!” He yelled at the top of his lungs. His head slammed backwards as Dream slammed on the breaks, the car coming to a halt with a loud screech. 

Ignoring Dream’s confused call of his name, Wilbur quickly unbuckled and jumped out of the car. “WILBUR?” Dream yelled again as Wilbur slammed the door shut, heading off into the woods. He heard Dream move his car into the gravel on the side of the road, the sound of hurried footsteps following behind him. 

Admittedly, he was a bit shocked that Dream immediately followed him instead of calling someone. Dream seemed more concerned with where they were going then what Wilbur was going to do when they got there. 

It took them a couple of minutes to reach where Wilbur wanted to go, the winding paths of the forest sending eerie shadows onto the trail before them. Wilbur wasn’t too worried, he’d walk this path a million times, but Dream seemed nervous and stayed close to him. Wilbur didn’t acknowledge him. 

When they reached the ravine, Dream immediately stepped in front of him and tried to push him backwards. For someone who had never been there before, Wilbur was impressed Dream understood right away. “Nope, no, back to the car we go!” 

Dream was strong, but Wilbur was stubborn and pretty slippery. “Relax,” Wilbur moved around him, a teasing tone in his voice, “it’s all good. Follow me.” 

“I don’t think thats a smart idea…” Dream followed him but stopped him before Wilbur could get too close to the edge. “Seriously, Wilbur, let’s just go home.” 

He couldn’t stop the laughter that poured out of him, “So I assume Techno told you everything?” Wilbur was tall enough to look over Dream’s shoulder, gazing into the abyss before them. The broken bridge still hung there, draped against the side of the cliff. If Wilbur imagined hard enough, he could picture Techno’s blood still on those same rocks. 

“Yeah, he did.” Dream admitted. He gave Wilbur a rough push backwards before quickly checking his phone with a wince. “Talking about Techno, he is going to kill me. I knew I shouldn’t have listened to you.” 

Wilbur hummed, stepping forward again. He ignored the push Dream once again gave him, too focused on the ravine below him. It drew him in, demanding his utmost attention. It called to him like a siren, voice sweet and melodic. He shook his head, returning his focus to Dream. “I assume my dear brother is blowing up your phone?” 

Dream grabbed onto his shoulder, not letting Wilbur move as he looked at his phone with a frown, “They’ve noticed you left. I guess Phil has cameras and saw you get in my car– did you turn your phone off? Wilbur! What the fuck is wrong with you?” 

“A lot of things,” Wilbur shrugged, “Which brings us to here and now. Now, if you would just let me go–” 

“No way in hell.” Dream snapped at him, shoving his phone back into his pocket. “I will pick you up and drag your sorry ass out of here. We are leaving. Now .”

Before Dream could make due on his threat, Wilbur spoke. “Do you ever think about how fleeting life is? One second you could be here and the next, gone. Like you never even existed…” 

“This sounds like a conversation we can have in the car, on the way back to your house, and not on the side of a cliff.” 

Wilbur ignored him, “I’m not even talking about suicide here. Just, in general. I could go outside one day and get robbed and die. A drunk driver could have smashed into us on our way here. I could get sick and never recover.” Wilbur turned his focus away from Dream’s intense gaze and instead, towards the stars. “It’s almost like we aren’t meant to live.” 

“Nothing is meant to last forever.” Dream seemed to have finally stopped pushing him, instead focusing on talking to him. Interesting strategy. Wilbur assumed physical strength would be smarter in the end. “That’s what makes life so special. If we lived forever and feared nothing, how would we learn to appreciate what we do have?” 

“Interesting point.” Wilbur conceded, looking back towards Dream. He was still holding onto Wilbur but it was looser now, more of a reassurance than pressure. Dream looked determined, his green eyes blazing under the moonlight. “Doesn’t make mine any less true. Doesn’t it scare you, mortality? The one thing almost no one can control. We are all destined to die.” 

“Doesn’t mean we can’t live and love while we still can,” Dream sent him a sad look, “Living our whole lives fearing the inevitable is no way to live at all. If you spend everyday worrying that it’s your last, you won’t be able to enjoy the fact that that day is not today .”

Humming, Wilbur returned his gaze to the stars. “Do you believe in good and evil?” 

“Good and evil?” Dream sounded confused by the change in conversation, “I mean, I guess? There is good in everything, just as there is bad in everything. Its what keeps the world balanced. Without the bad, we wouldn’t appreciate the good. Without the good, we would have no desire to fight the bad. I guess you could say it’s like a rainbow after a storm. Yeah, maybe the storm isn’t ideal, but that rainbow sure is beautiful. At the same time, if we didn’t have the storm, would we even have appreciated the rainbow?” 

“You sound like a hippie.” Wilbur laughed, “I mean come on. Did you really use a rainbow to compare good and evil to me?” 

Dream didn’t respond to the taunt, “If you spend all of your time looking at life negatively, you will only notice the negative. You, Wilbur, need to start looking at the positives as well.” 

“The rainbow after the storm?” 

A shift in the gravel drew Wilbur’s attention back to Dream. He had stepped back a little bit, but didn’t lose his grip on Wilbur. They were a decent distance away from the ravine, but Wilbur could still see if from over Dream’s shoulder. The siren’s call was quieter this time. “Exactly.” 

“Oh? What would my positives be?” Sarcasm coated his voice, “Depression? Being locked in my house constantly? My own twin not speaking to me? Pretending to not hear my boyfriend cry every night we spent together? Tell me, Guru Dream, what exactly do I have going for me?”

Dream didn’t flinch, “You have a family who loves you, who would do anything for you. A dad who cares for you more than anything, a younger brother who adores you and looks up to you, a twin brother who risked his life to save yours. You have a boyfriend who, from my understanding, acts like you hung the stars in the sky. You have friends who care about you and miss you. Are you really willing to give all of that up? To say goodbye to them because you are more concerned with the past?”

“You don’t know me.” It came out more defensive then Wilbur planned it to be, but Dream’s words stung. It was all things he had heard before but, for some reason, it hit harder coming from Dream. Standing where they were, saying what Dr. Rivera had been preaching for so long, it was finally starting to hit him. It hurt. 

“You’re right, I don’t know you.” Dream agreed with a smile, “I only know what Techno has told me and even then, thats not your life. Though, I don’t need to know you completely to see that you are struggling Wilbur. You need help and you need to refind your place in your own world. You need to stop concerning yourself with the inevitable and start focusing on what you can change and what you can do.” 

Those words sat in the air for a minute, Wilbur unsure what to say. “When I first recognized you, I told myself that you were going to be easy to fool.” Wilbur wasn’t quite sure why he was admitting this. “I could tell right away that you would believe me because you were a nice guy. A little bit of a dumb optimist, if you will. I’m starting to see that I might have been right on the optimist part, but I was wrong to doubt you.” 

“Well, if I’m a ‘dumb optimist’ then you are a dull pessimist.” Dream smiled at him, giving Wilbur a light shove. He followed without struggling. “I personally don’t see my optimism as a weakness. I think it makes me a better person. Why focus on the bad when I can encourage the good?” 

They started the walk back to Dream’s car. “I see myself as more of a pragmatist, really.” Wilbur replied, taking the lead. He assumed that Dream would have been too panicked to remember the way back to his car. Oops. Good thing Wilbur was here. “I admire your guts though. Not a lot of people would threaten and push a suicidal man and then call him dull. Good for you.” 

Dream was only a couple of steps behind him, but seemed more focused on his thoughts than anything. They were almost to the car before he spoke again. “Why?” Wilbur hummed, causing Dream to elaborate, “Why did you just… walk away?” 

“I got the answers I needed.” 

“Which were?” Wilbur could only shrug, getting into the car. Dream didn’t speak up again after that, letting the car fill with an uncomfortable silence. Instead of playing music, Dream immediately called Phil and gave some half ass excuse of where they had been. Wilbur knew he should have been listening, knowing that he would need to agree with the store to have it work, but he was distracted. Partially by shock, hearing Dream lie for him, and mostly by confusion. 

Truth was, Wilbur wasn’t sure why he walked away. He didn’t get any answers that he hadn’t already heard. Dream’s point of view changed very little for him. Quite frankly, Wilbur wasn’t sure what led him to easily walk away from that ravine. 

He just knew, deep in his gut, that he had to.

Chapter Text

“I did something dumb last night.” 

It was now Saturday, which meant therapy. At first, Wilbur had no intention of bringing up his… adventures, for a lack of a better word, with Dream last night. He was content with the truth staying between the two of them, seeing as Dream had made the choice to lie to Phil about where they had gone and what had happened. Something about running to get cigarettes which still landed Wilbur in a load of trouble, but nothing as severe as it would have been if Dream had told the truth. Wilbur wasn’t quite sure why Dream had decided to lie and truthfully, he hadn’t felt the need to ask. Dream wouldn’t even really look him in the eye during the 5 minutes he had spent in the house before going home. 

So, Wilbur was pretty surprised by himself when he spoke those words. Dr. Rivera sent him a calm look, surely being able to read the anxiety on Wilbur’s face. “Oh? Would you like to expand upon that or talk about something else?” 

Hesitating, Wilbur glanced away, “Are you going to tell Phil?” 

“No, seeing as you are over the age of 18. However if you have plans to commit suicide or harm another person, I am required to report it to the authorities. However, anything else stays in this room. I am not here to get you in trouble.” 

“I…” Wilbur paused, sighing and leaning back farther into the couch. He was quickly growing annoyed with himself, putting him into this situation where he had to talk about his feelings. Wilbur knew that he could change the topic if he wanted to, but Dr. Rivera had a habit of bringing up missed topics at a later day. It was probably what made her so good at her job, and so annoying. “I went the the bridge last night… with some guy.” 

“Oh.” Dr. Rivera didn’t seem shocked or concerned, but noted something down in her book. Great. “Did you know this man?” 

“He’s Techno’s friend. I asked him for a ride to a friend's house to pick up some class work and made him pull over on the side of the road. He’s a pretty cool guy I guess. Very nice.” Wilbur’s mind was a mess, causing him to ramble on, “Didn’t even tell Phil where we went when they finally noticed I was gone. He just looked my dad in the eye and lied. Not sure why he did that, but he did. He wouldn’t even look at me though, so I think Phil suspects something. I hope Techno doesn’t find out–” Wilbur cut himself off with a wince. 

Dr. Rivera continued to write as Wilbur rambled, but stopped once Wilbur did. “What caused you to go back to the bridge?” 

Wilbur just shrugged. He was still a bit unsure himself. “I guess… I just wanted to look death in the eye again. I was so focused on Techno last time that it didn’t feel real. I think I wanted to see if it would feel real this time.”

“Did it?” 

“I’m not sure.” 

Dr. Rivera hummed, “Wilbur, forgive me for being blunt, but do you still want to die?” 

He couldn’t help but snort at that, but it lacked amusement, coming out more dry than anything. “Honestly? I’ve done a lot of thinking since October, hell a lot of thinking in general, but in hindsight I’m not sure if I ever really wanted to die . I’m starting to believe that, more than anything, I wanted to stop thinking. I wanted to feel at peace and not have to worry about such stupid shit anymore. I wanted silence .” 

“So you thought that death would bring you that peace?” 

“Wouldn’t you agree?” Wilbur asked in return, drumming his fingers on his thighs. It was a question he had wanted to ask for ages now, to know if anyone else had felt the same way, but he hadn’t felt brave enough to ask. “That death is the only way to achieve that level of peace? Of silence?” 

“Not necessarily,” Dr. Rivera set the notebook down and focused her attention onto Wilbur, “I think that death is never the answer. It’s not a solution, its an escape.” 

“Maybe I want to escape.” 

“Maybe, but I don’t think you want to die, Wilbur.” She didn’t expand upon that and Wilbur didn’t want her to. “So tell me, why didn’t you jump again? If you wanted that ‘escape’, why didn’t you try again? Did your friend stop you?” 

Wilbur didn’t answer for a minute, too lost in thought. That specific question had been plaguing him for hours. Why didn’t he even try to jump? At first he thought it was because of Dream’s presence, but he had quickly ruled that out. Dream had nothing to do with his decision to stop, nor did his words. Sure, Dream had opened his eyes in some ways, but it was nothing life changing. Next, he thought that it might have been his family and friends. He ruled that one out as well. It hadn’t stopped him the first time. “No. I’m not sure. It just… didn’t feel right.” 

“What do you mean by that?” 

“It wouldn’t answer any of my questions.” It hit him then and there. If he had jumped, he wouldn’t know why. All of this hard work, these past months of therapy and struggling, would go to waste. He would never know why . “Y’know, I hate it. All of the thinking, about myself and about my life. The questions about the world and my future in it. Hell, everything really. I think I just want to stop asking myself why, but some part deep inside of me needs to know. If I died last night, I would never know why I need to know so desperately. It would never answer the questions I have been trying to answer for so long now.” 

“I thought you wanted to escape those questions?” 

“I do. I think?” Wilbur shook his head and groaned. “I don’t fucking know. It’s all so confusing. I’m at this crossroad. I want to escape, to not have to think and worry so much about who I am and how I became like this, but at the same time I want to know so desperately that its consuming me completely. I think my attempt was my final attempt to escape the path I’m on now. I’m staring at the two paths but deep inside of myself, I know I can only take one path. I have to face the music.” 

Nobody spoke, silence gripping Wilbur by the throat. He wanted so deeply for Dr. Rivera to have the answers, to open her mouth and speak the words that would heal his broken mind. He knew she wouldn’t be able to. “What path is that?” 

“Living. Answering the questions. Existing .” 

She wrote something down. Wilbur wasn’t sure when she had picked her notebook back up. “There is nothing wrong with being introspective as long as you don’t let it destroy your life.” 

A laugh was ripped from his throat, burning like a harsh drag. “I passed introspective a long time ago. I think obsessive is a better term. I obsessively worry about the things that I can’t change. I let my own fears consume me until I lost everything.” 

“You didn’t lose everything, Wilbur. You still have yourself, your friends and family. The ones you love and care about.” 

“They will leave one day.” 

“No.” She shook her head, “They won’t. This isn’t forever, Wilbur.” 

“I destroyed myself. I destroyed everything.”

“You didn’t destroy anything.” Dr. Rivera disagreed, “It might be a little damaged, but its not beyond repair. You just need time, and help. One day, you’ll understand what I mean.”

~

Wilbur went home not too long after that. They hadn’t spoken much beyond that final conversation, the words lingering in Wilbur’s mind. By now, he had accepted the truth. He didn’t really want to die. He never truly had. It was just a desperate attempt to escape the thoughts that were slowly eating away at him like a poison. Truthfully, it didn’t change much. He still didn’t have the answers to his questions. 

He still wasn’t satisfied . 

The ride home was also silent. Phil was obviously still a little upset with his adventures last night, but he must have read the exhaustion that painted Wilbur like a canvas, as he didn’t utter a word past his greeting. Wilbur didn’t feel it in himself to speak as well, letting the silence linger in the air. It was awkward. 

All of this led Wilbur to going straight to his bedroom when they arrived home, silently surprised by Phil’s lack of demand to stay downstairs. When he entered his room, he was greeted by Techno calmly sitting on Wilbur’s desk chair, reading a book. He met his twin's eyes with a confused stare, “Uh, hello?” The two of them were still on uneasy terms, Wilbur’s harsh words dividing them. He wasn’t sure why Techno of all people was in his room. “Why are you in here?”

Techno gently placed his book down on his lap, one hand moving up to fidget with the end of his braid. It was something Wilbur had picked up on his twin doing since they had been reunited, a nervous habit he must have picked up on during his time in foster care. It took a minute before Techno responded, “Dream told me the truth.” 

“The truth? What, is he in love with you or something?” Wilbur snorted, flopping down onto his bed. He tried to ignore the elephant in the room, but knew Techno wouldn’t let it go. God damn it Dream. It would have been easier if Dream had admitted the truth to Phil instead. He would take whatever bullshit Phil decided would be best instead of Techno yelling at him for the millionth time, or another fist fight. 

“You know what I’m talking about. The bridge.” 

“Oh? What are you going to do about it?” His voice rose in a defensive tone, clenching his fists and grinding his teeth. He still refused to look at Techno. It was probably for the best that they couldn’t see each other for this conversation. “Tell Phil? The cops?” 

To Wilbur’s surprise, Techno didn’t take the bait. Instead his twin only sighed, “Honestly? I’m not going to do anything.” 

Wilbur couldn’t help the burst of shock that rushed through him, causing him to sit up and stare at Techno. “Huh?” Confusion graced his voice, “Why, after everything that happened in these past couple of months, are you finally deciding to just let it go? Have you finally given up on me?” He couldn’t say it aloud, wouldn’t say it aloud, but the thought of Techno truly giving up on him hurt like nothing else. It broke a piece inside of him. 

“I’ve spent so long trying to understand you.” Techno twisted the end of his braid again, “Ever since I moved out here I’ve been trying to understand what changed. We spent over 7 years apart, and we have both changed as people. We aren’t who we were when we were 7. I get it. I understand that. But watching you deteriorate, turning into this person I never expected you to be, it was shocking. I’ve tried to understand you. I spent so many nights awake, trying to understand why you wanted to kill yourself, why you brought me along. I’m so tired, Wilbur.” Their eyes met again and Wilbur couldn’t help but recognize the look in his brother's eyes. It was one he had seen in his own a million times. Pure mental and physical exhaustion. “I’m so tired . Of fighting, of trying to piece my life together, of trying to build a family again. I’m tired of losing.” 

“How are you losing? You have a family.” 

Techno blinked, looking away and using his free hand to rub his knee. Techno didn’t look up again. “Do I? Legally, yeah I do. I have Phil, Tommy, you . I have friends who I care about and want to keep in touch with. I have it in name, yes, but I’m losing it more and more everyday. Everyday I watch as you slowly fall apart more and more, building yourself up just to crumble down again and again. Kristen died.” Wilbur couldn’t stop himself from flinching at that but Techno continued on anyway. “She’s not coming back. She’s gone forever. You were so close to slipping out of my hand and joining her. You wanted to, maybe still want to, die. I’m tired of losing my family . I don’t think I can lose you again. Once was enough. Watching that family take you away broke me. I don’t think I can lose you again without being broken beyond repair.” Finally, Techno looked up again and didn’t break eye contact this time. Wilbur could see the pleading look in his eyes, “I’m not sure what you want me to say Wilbur. At this point, I’ll get on my hands and knees and beg if I have to. Please, Wilbur, stop and think about what you are doing to us. To your friends. To George.” 

“Don’t pretend to know what I’m doing.” Wilbur couldn’t stop himself from snapping back, the words leaving him like rapids in a river. “All I’ve been doing is thinking. I can’t stop thinking.” 

Techno didn’t fight back, just standing with a sigh and moving towards the door. As he grabbed the handle to open the door, he took one last glance back towards Wilbur. “You need to start thinking less about the wrong things, and more about the right ones.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Techno didn’t answer, opening the door and closing it behind himself without another word. The soft click of the door was the last thing Wilbur heard before silence wrapped him in its harsh grip, Techno’s words lingering in his head like a scratched record.

~

January 5th, 2022

Happy New Year!

Hell yeah, its a new year. I’ve always loved the New Year and all of the shitty resolutions people make. Something about watching the world try to do better and immediately failing makes this all feel so… human. It’s amazing. I love it. 

Winter Break was awesome, as always. It’s always been my favorite break. Something about the colder weather –not cold it doesn’t get cold out here in sunny Florida– and being close to family makes it feel so special. Sometimes I pretend I’m waking up in snowy England and that we are about to go make snowmen and have snowball fights. Phil says we can go next year and see the snow. I don’t think Techno’s been back home since the foster care program moved him to America. I may be his twin, but sometimes I forget he’s British too. 

Christmas was nice. Mr. Oaklend got me a new record to hang on the wall –something that George told me he looked for a hide for months, I love that man– and Phil got me a new pair of headphones. Tommy broke my old pair not too long ago, that shithead. Love him to death but damn, sometimes that kid makes me want to shave his head bald in the middle of the night. 

Techno didn’t say much to me but he got me a cool sweater. I didn’t really expect a gift from him so I was surprised. I’m glad he enjoyed the pig plush I got for him. It felt childish, but I know he secretly loves stuff like that. He even smiled at me. Fuck yeah. 

George got us matching necklaces. Of course, as the dutiful boyfriend I am, I called him gay for it. It’s very sweet though. They are like those tapping bracelets, the ones that give you a small vibration if the other touches theirs. This is in a necklace form though. It’s cool. I’m never taking mine off. 

Tommy got me a book on mental health. I only wanted to punch him a little bit. I know he meant good by it but it honestly just felt like a cheapshot. I’m still going to read the book though. How could I not? It’s from Tommy. He told me he read it too. 

We didn’t do much for New Year’s Eve. George came over, of course, but thats all. I made sure to kiss George when the ball dropped to traumatize Tommy. I have to keep up my job as the annoying older brother. It’s important to me. 

I think that’s all. I haven’t seen Dr. Rivera in over a week because of the holidays, but I’m… excited to see her soon. Telling her good news always feels like I passed a test or something. I swear she sometimes feels like a teacher. 

See ya, 

Wilbur Soot-Watson :)

~

“Can George spend the night tonight?” It was 3 days after Techno had admitted to knowing the truth about his visit to the bridge and his brother hadn’t spoken to him since. Honestly, it was as if the conversation never had happened, Techno reverting to his old behavior of pretending Wilbur didn’t even exist. Wilbur was starting to think it might be a coping method. He tried to not let it bother him. It didn’t work. “Breaks almost over and he misses me.” 

Phil didn’t even glance up from his laptop, “You know you don’t even have to ask Wilbur. George is allowed over whenever he wants.” 

“I thought I was grounded?” It came out more snarky then he wanted to, causing Wilbur to immediately back track, “Sorry, that came out badly. I wanted to ask because I’m grounded.” 

The sound of fingers tapping keys stopped as Phil looked towards Wilbur with a soft smile, “Even grounded, you know I’d never separate you and George if I can help it. He’s important to you, I won’t keep him away from you. That’s not going to help you at all. Of course George can spend the night, as long as you follow the rules.” 

“I hate the rules.” 

Phil laughed and shrugged, “Then don’t do dumb shit like sneaking out and scaring your poor father half to death. Door open, dinner with the family, all of that.” 

“Fine.” Wilbur dragged out in a whine, smiling as his dad let out another loud laugh, “I will continue to leave the door open and kiss my boyfriend when Tommy eventually comes in to bother us. Just remember that when Tommy has to go to therapy it was because you wouldn’t let me make out with George in peace.” 

“I do not want to know what you and George do behind closed doors.” Phil made a jokingly disgusted face, causing Wilbur to stick his tongue out at his father. “Also stop purposely traumatizing Tommy. You know he’s emotionally attached to George. He can’t help it.” 

“That little shit is trying to steal my spot as George’s favorite and I will not allow that to happen. I’m baby, I need to feel important or I will immediately die on the spot.” 

“You are 18 years old. Stop worrying that your 14 year old brother is trying to steal your boyfriend.” Phil rolled his eyes lightheartedly, Wilbur letting out a chuckle in response. “George doesn’t have favorites and even if he did, we all know it would be Karl.” 

Dramatically gasping, Wilbur pretended to faint and flopped down onto the table. “Betrayed? By my own father? That’s it, I’m moving to Ireland and becoming a goat farmer.” 

Shaking his head fondly, Phil turned back to his laptop. “Go call George and leave me alone.” 

“Bye dad, I love you.” Wilbur pushed himself back to his feet, dragging out his vowels and laughing as Phil flicked him off. Practically skipping out of the room, Wilbur approached the front door where George was waiting with an annoyed look on his face, “He said yes!” 

George just shook his head, letting out a laugh when Phil’s exasperated voice called out from the kitchen, “He was already here? Did my answer even matter?” 

“Nope,” Wilbur called out with a smirk, winking at George, “You’re the best dad I’m leaving now.” 

“I’m putting you up for adoption.” Phil’s voice was barely audible as Wilbur pulled George up the stairs, the sound of their steps blocking out his voice. 

George laughed as Wilbur stopped, yelling back to Phil as they reached the top of the stairs. “Too late there is no return policy, you are stuck with me forever.” If Phil responded, they couldn’t hear them. Wilbur opened his bedroom door with a dramatic flourish, “Hello love of my life, how are you doing today?” 

“One of these days Phil is going to kick you out and I’m not taking you in.” George teased, dodging Wilbur’s attempt of a kiss on the cheek and throwing himself onto the bed. Wilbur watched him with a fond look in his eyes. 

George had this ability to lighten any room he was in. It wasn’t as obvious as someone like Tommy or Tubbo, who radiated sunshine from every pore, but something about George just drew attention to him. Most people would say it was his beauty or accent, but Wilbur personally was drawn to George’s attitude and personality. Maybe its because they met when they were 10, before crushes were anything beyond peer pressure and confusion. Back when George was some snotty kid from England who spent more time shit talking Americans then he did studying, and Wilbur was still getting used to having an actual family again. 

Wilbur counted himself lucky that he met George when he did. He couldn’t imagine life without his sarcastic, gorgeous partner. 

He must have been staring for some time, because George called to him in a fond voice, “Wil what are you doing?” 

Shaking his head in an attempt to clear his thoughts, Wilbur smirked and approached the bed. “Getting lost in your beauty.” He laid down on the bed, mostly on top of George who allowed it with a huff. 

“Okay simp,” George blocked his kiss with his hand, causing Wilbur to lightly bite it. “Stop being annoying. You know I don’t like kissing you when the door is open. I’m trying to save Phil money.” 

Softly grabbing George’s wrist, Wilbur placed a kiss on his palm and moved the hand away from his face. “Phil can afford to pay for Tommy’s therapy. He pays for mine after all.” Wilbur wasn’t able to stop himself from giving George another kiss, this time on his wrist.

For a while, it was hard for Wilbur to openly show affection to his partner. It felt like he was tainting him with each kiss, stealing a little bit of that purity away with each soft caress. As things started to hit the peak of his struggles, when Wilbur couldn’t get out of bed and spent his days in different stages of rage, he couldn’t find it in himself to even look at George. It felt like sin. 

George never gave up on him. Even on the bad days, George would sit nearby and wait for Wilbur to get out of his own head. He would whisper soft words that were hard to believe, words of love and words of the future. The things Wilbur had so harshly craved growing up that instead tore him apart in those dark times. 

Things were getting better now. Each kiss started to feel more like George was willingly sharing that purity. As if being next to him was erasing the evilness inside of him. Wilbur knew it didn’t work that way, but it brought him peace. 

“I love you,” it wasn’t something George said a lot so when he did, it never failed to get Wilbur’s attention, “even if you are an idiot.” 

With a soft smile, something that was easily echoed on George’s face, Wilbur leaned forward so he could place a gentle kiss on George’s throat. “I love you too. Even when you insult me.” He felt the need to nip George on the throat next, chuckling as George let out a grunt and squirmed. “Which you do a lot by the way. If I didn’t know better, I would start to think you didn’t like me.” 

“I don’t know how anyone could think I don’t like you.” The fondness in George’s voice caused Wilbur to smile against his neck. He wasn’t expecting their conversation to become this soft, wispy like clouds. It wasn’t super normal for them. They preferred to tease each other more often than not. “I think it’s obvious how blatantly in love with you I am.” 

“That’s kind of gay George,” Wilbur yelped as George smacked him in the back of the head with a laugh, “Okay yeah I deserved that. Fair enough.” Wilbur leaned up to place his next kiss on George’s lips. After a minute, he pulled away only far enough to speak, their breath mixing. “If it makes you feel better I’m also very blatantly in love with you too.” 

George leaned his back with a laugh, wrapping his arms around Wilbur and pulling him closer. “Yes it does. It would be embarrassing if it was only me. I would have to dump you. I can't be a simp, that’s your thing.” 

“You are so mean to me.” Wilbur laughed, moving so he was on George’s side. Settling into a comfortable position, Wilbur pulled George until his boyfriend huffed and laid his head on Wilbur’s chest. “There we go. All is right in the world.” 

“Why do I always have to lay on you?” 

“Because I’m baby.” Wilbur teased, “I need to back sure you can’t run away. I need your constant attention or I will literally die.” 

“Romantic.” 

“Obviously, I’m a known romantic George. It’s part of my charm.” 

“You have no charm, you’re ugly.” Laughing, Wilbur squeezed George until he wheezed, “Fine, fine, you are so hot and oh so sexy. I am so lucky to be dating the supermodel that is Wilbur Soot-Watson. I am the envy of our generation.” 

“Yes you are,” Wilbur agreed, “But if anyone is the supermodel it is you. Seriously, how are you this pretty. It should be illegal.” 

George looked up at Wilbur with a large smile, “You’re sappy today.” 

He couldn’t help but return it, “And you’re happy. Very happy actually. Anything special that happened today?” 

Wilbur felt George’s shrug more than he saw it, seeing as he had his arms wrapped pretty tightly around his partner. George wasn’t able to move much, the way they both liked to cuddle. It was comforting. Grounding. “Nothing in particular. I guess I just really needed to see you today.” 

He couldn’t help but lean forward and place a kiss on the crown of George’s head. “I needed to see you today too. Everyday, if I’m honest. How are Karl and Quackity doing? I know you went to spend the night with them a few days ago.” 

“They are doing great.” George perked up, absentmindedly rubbing his hand along Wilbur’s arm. It was soothing, causing Wilbur to hum and close his eyes as George continued to talk. “Alex’s parents came to visit, thats why we spent the night there. They seem to be doing well and he was obviously very excited to see them. I don’t think he stopped smiling all night. Karl is also doing well, I think his relationships with those two guys is getting pretty serious. I haven’t met them yet, but one of them –Sapnap I think? Something like that– asked him to be his boyfriend. I guess its the first poly relationship either of the boys has ever been in so Karl has a lot to teach them. I don’t remember the other guys name but Karl says he seems to still be a bit anxious. He’s not too worried though, I guess the two are best friends so Sapnap is talking to him and working things out. He thinks they are going to end up as a trio.” George stopped speaking for a minute, before softly flicking Wilbur’s arm. He let out another hum in response. “Don’t fall asleep you big baby, we are in the middle of a conversation.” 

“Can’t help it,” Wilbur’s voice wasn’t any louder than a mumble, “you are so soft and warm. Like a cat. I love cats.” He was too tired to think before he spoke, rambling slightly. “Y’know when we move in together we should get a cat. I’ve always wanted a cat but Phil’s allergic.” 

George didn’t stop softly massaging Wilbur’s arm, his voice growing quieter but just as teasing as before, “Oh? I didn’t realize we had made plans to move in together.” 

“Who else would I want to spend the rest of my life with?” 

George froze for a second, “Why do you have to be so sleepy to be honest with me?” It came out quiet, as if George hadn’t even meant to say it aloud. “I want to spend the rest of my life with you too, Wilbur. I would also love to get a cat, but I get to name it. I don’t trust you.” 

Wilbur couldn’t stop his head from leaning against George’s, his body growing more numb as he got closer to sleep. “What’s wrong with my names?” 

“Nothing really,” George laughed, gentle and airy, “I just think you’d pick a name I don’t like to annoy me. You love to do things like that.” Wilbur couldn’t respond, too tired to muster up the words. He did his best to hum, which George seemed to pick up on. “Go to bed Wilbur. I’ll wake you up before dinner. I love you.” 

“Love you too.” He wasn’t sure if the words were thought or said, but he knew George knew them anyway. 

He didn’t fall asleep, but George thought he did. After a minute of calm silence, George spoke again. His voice was a whisper, quiet enough that for a second, Wilbur thought he was imaging it. “I wish I was brave enough to say it to you when you are awake. I wish I could tell you how I feel, but its so hard. I know you know I love you, even if I don’t say it all the time. I wish I could tell you how much I love you though. I wish I could put it into words how deeply my love for you runs. How, getting that call that you were in the hospital, tore me apart. How hard its been not being able to see you everyday, to not be able to hold you and kiss you. I wish I could just take all the pain away from you Wilbur. I don’t know how I would have lived without you. I hope, so deeply, that I won’t have to learn how to for a long time.” George paused and Wilbur felt a soft, fleeting kiss on his cheek. “You are my forever, Wilbur. As long as you are here, I’m not going anywhere else. As long as you will have me, I’ll be here. Sleep well.” 

As George’s voice faded into silence and his boyfriend shifted to rest more comfortably against him, it finally hit Wilbur what Techno had meant. He didn’t want to lose this. Wilbur didn’t want to lose what was most important to him, lose George or his family. 

Techno might be tired of fighting for it, but Wilbur thought that it might be time that he started to try himself.

Chapter Text

okay first off i just want to announce that this fic is NOT abandoned or discontinued. i will be finishing it most likely in december or january. i just have an explanation and a couple of things i want to say. 

let’s start off with why this fic was written. as most of you —maybe all of you— know, pragmatic is the sister fic to I wish I were you, Optimism. this is an au of my au. i wrote optimism last year in september (happy late one year!) after the death of my friend, who was killed by a drunk driver. it was a way to work out my grief and really helped me come to peace with her untimely death. what happened to nora was out of our control. it was easy to come to terms with her death in the way that i understood that tragedies happen. 

i didn’t talk about it much, but nora had an older sister, another close friend of mine. actually, i met nora through her sister, az. az was also in the car accident but lived. az struggled with survivors guilt for almost a full year before she passed away. suicide. i got the call about her death about 2 hours after the announcement of technos passing. it was two hits back to back and really, really took a lot out of me. especially since my grandmother had passed away about 5 or so days before that as well. i was in a really bad place for a while and took some time off writing 

i tried to open this fic, pragmatic, in late july but immediately broke down into tears and that’s when i delayed it until september. as you may have noticed, i never got around to it. life got in the way. 

about 5 days ago i opened pragmatic and found myself ready to start writing it again. i was doing better, finally feeling ready to write this again and work on my emotions over az’s death. i was doing a lot better. 

3 days ago, another one of my friends passed away. i didn’t find out about his passing until halloween. i was supposed to meet up with him the day before but he never showed or replied to my messages. today i found out the most likely cause of death was suicide and it broke another part of me. this guy was one of the best people i have ever met and i’m going to miss him everyday. there was nobody else like him. 

the older i get, the more i realize how fucked things can be. there is so much i want to say to his friends and coworkers who are reaching out to me asking for information but i can’t. it’s not my place. this is beyond me. i miss him so much. 

this little au i’ve created holds such a dear place in my heart but right now, it’s only causing me pain. i will never hate these fics or regret writing them. i will never give up on them. i just need time.

this year i lost 4 people. this year was the one year anniversary of losing nora. may they all rest in peace. take care of yourselves. reach out and ask for help if you need it. donate to charity and hug your loved ones. 

i’ll miss all 5 of them, even if i never met technoblade. i hope they all found peace.