Chapter Text
When Wilbur wakes up he notices a few things. He’s warm and comfortable, the blankets are soft, Tommy's clutched to his chest, (which isn’t unusual) but he smells like blood. His blood. With the burning tinge of silver- Wilbur sucked in a sharp breath, eyes flying open wide and awake.
Shit, shit, shit! They were at Philza and Technoblade’s place in the fucking woods! This is bad. He forces his breathing to fall even, in fear of waking his brother who looks at peace. His face soft, hard lines missing as his eyes flew underneath his eyelids.
He had a small smile on his face, and his hands held gently onto Wilbur’s sweater.
Wilbur couldn’t take that away from him. Not after everything, the poor boy had been through to have it taken away in the first place. Wilbur gently moved Tommy to the couch, pulling some blankets around him which he snuggled into. Wilbur couldn’t stop the smile from creeping onto his lips.
He ran his fingers through his hair one last time before quietly padding out of the living room. He quickly memorized the layout, counting the windows and doors before finding the kitchen. He grinned. He grinned at the thought of getting food for his brother, of keeping him well fed if only for a day, and started searching for the pantry.
Once found he began to steal borrow some of the granola bars, small packets of snacks, fruit snacks, and others. He didn’t even think about why two adults would have food such as this. He stuffed the food into his pockets, cursing himself over not bringing a bag when they left the house.
It’s fine he’ll just make do with what he can carry and who knows… maybe there’s a bag here they can borrow too. He just finished grabbing all the non-perishables when he turns. He’s expecting an empty kitchen, having heard no footsteps or floorboards creek but he’s gravely mistaken when he turns and is faced with a broad chest.
He looks up, eyes wide and fearful when he’s faced with long pink hair cascading down wide shoulders. He’s wearing a white sleep shirt, the top two buttons are unbuttoned. Wilbur keeps looking up, eyes meeting a scarred nose and red eyes.
He flinches, holding the food close to his chest as he looks away. He could feel his body shake, but he forced himself to ignore it looking around for a way to get out of the pantry and away from who he can only guess is Techno.
The man lets out a deep huff, bordering a growl and it makes Wilbur’s instinct go crazy.
Get away! Get away! Have to get away!
Wilbur fights down a whine, dashing to the side of Technoblade, and sprinted towards the living room. As soon as he saw Tommy he slowed to a walk but he still rushed over to the couch, climbing up into the small nest of blankets. Tommy whined a happy sound, a smile spreading across his lips and he buried himself closer to Wilbur.
The boy smiled down at his baby brother, running a hand through his hair and scratching at his scalp with blunt nails. The pup hummed, eyes fluttering before slowly opening. He had a dazed look on his fade, and his cheeks were flushed with color like he had been smiling for hours.
(He probably had.)
“Wilby?” He slurred, bumping his head into Wilbur’s hand, chasing the comfort even though it wasn’t going anywhere.
“I’m here, baby. I’m here.” He replied, voice gentle. Tommy just scowled at the nickname, but he pushed closer to his brother nonetheless. Wilbur smiled, a small huff leaving his lips as he gently scooted back. He pulled a granola bar from his pocket, quickly tearing the packaging away before breaking it roughly in half. He gave Tommy the bigger piece.
“Here, eat this.” He said, eyes looking up to the doorway that lead into the kitchen. No one was standing there, but he knew at least Technoblade was there, and who knows where Philza is.
Tommy’s eyes are wide, and he scarfs the food down fast. It makes Wilbur wince with worry that the boy will choke. He doesn't though, and it left licking at his teeth to get the last bits unstuck from the grooves and in between his canines. There are crumbs stuck to his face, and he’s trying to lick them off his lips but fails miserably when he finds more food stuck in his teeth to worry about first.
Wilbur would grin at the image if it wasn’t for the hidden meanings behind the action.
Tommy looks happy though. He still looms pleased that he got a meal, and Wilbur’s heart breaks a little bit more. He should have full warm meals, cooked daily, and always have some leftovers in the fridge. He shouldn't have to worry about eating fucking granola bars for breakfast and dinner. But it doesn't matter because Wilbur’s head snaps to the sound of footsteps coming down old wooden stairs and then landing on the ground floor.
They come gently into the living room, and in walks a disheveled Philza, hair sticking every which way and blue eyes fogged within sleep. He’s yawning, a hand coming up to cover his mouth as his gaze swivels around the room.
Wilbur sees the man smile, eyes filled with emotion. It was not adoration. It couldn’t be. But then Wilbur watched his smile fall, and Tommy’s unnoticeable shaking turned violent. He shook, and his eyes soon coated over with a faraway look and Wilbur forced himself to step in.
“I gave him the food!” Wilbur forces out. His voice shakes, and he’s scared. He knows what a human can dish out, but a werewolf? Images of last night flash to his mind, and he forces them down. Forces down the pure fear he felt, the pure agony at hearing his brother in distress.
“You can hurt me, but please- please! Don’t hurt him. He didn’t do anything wrong! We-We didn’t even make a mess! I promise!” And as if to prove his point, he swipes a hand over the blankets and when he hears no crumbs fall to the floor he looks back to Philza.
His eyes are still wide, and he still shakes. He can’t help it.
(And by hell does Phil want to get angry. Want to let the emotion slip onto his face, go off and hunt down and hurt whoever did this to these kids. Who made them afraid to fucking eat.)
“No, it’s ok!” He says instead, voice full of… something that Wilbur can’t place. He ignores the shiver at the fact he can’t place the emotion, eyes still locked onto Phil. “I don’t care about some crumbs, their just crumbs. Not gonna hurt anyone or anything.” Philza adds, walking to the archway that leads into the kitchen.
The man stops at the entrance, nodding and saying a quiet hello to Technoblade. All Wilbur can hear is a gruff grunt in return, and shrinks further in on himself, forcing Tommy to curl into his stomach, eyes still cloudy but at least present.
“Are you ok, Wilby?” The pup murmurs, bringing tiny hands to fist into Wilbur’s sweater. Wilbur’s heart warms at the nickname.
“Yeah, I’m ok. We’re not in trouble. We can eat here, sunshine.” He murmurs, running his hand down Tommy’s back, smoothing out the wrinkles. He’s careful when he feels the bandages under his shirt, running his fingers delicately along the small rise before running his hands pack up Tommy’s back. He pressed his fingertips into the pup’s shoulder blades, relishing in the soft sigh that came from him.
He turned his head away from his baby brother, noting that Phil had walked into the kitchen. The sound of pans and drawers, cupboards, and the fridge opening and being drawn filled the house with noise, chasing the dark silence away.
Tommy hummed, the sound tinted with confusion, a little bit of pain, and content. It let Wilbur know he had stopped running his fingers along the pup’s back and needed to get back to it soon. Wilbur couldn’t stop the small chuckle as he began his movements again.
Wilbur didn’t know how long he sat like that, eyes glued to the kitchen archway, hands running up and down Tommy’s back, occasionally pressing into the tight muscles of the pup’s shoulders. He shouldn’t be this tense. A damning voice reminded him. Wilbur did his best to ignore it.
He didn’t know how long it was until he heard the sizzling of something in a pan, and gentle voices add into the background noise. Wilbur couldn’t focus on the voices, only making out occasional words from the two older wolves. Tommy was humming softly, his chest vibrating with sound. His eyes were clear, back to their fiery blue.
Wilbur loved his eyes. They always made him think of the sky. Of how birds can fly, and how freedom is so close, yet so far away. Looking at Tommy’s eyes made him feel like a bird flying in the sky.
Wilbur watched as Phil stepped out of the kitchen, a polka dot green apron tied around his waist and a small grin on his face.
“Are you feeling up to breakfast, pups? I’ve got some beans and potatoes cooking right now, but the eggs, toast, and bacon are done now. I think we have some spare muffins, but I might not have made anything for this week…” The man’s words filtered off as he walked back into the kitchen, and the sound of a cupboard being opened and slammed shut before a small ‘ah-ha!’ echoed in the room. Phil appeared back in the archway, two muffins in hand.
“I’ve just got blueberry since they're at the end of the season right now.” Phil said, an apologetic look on his face. Wilbur thought it was weird, that an adult would be sorry about what kind of food he had, in relation to what he was giving kids.
He didn’t voice it out loud, turning to look at Tommy. He repressed a chuckle at seeing the dreamy look on his brother's face, and he would place money that his brother’s mouth was salivating at the thought of having something sweet. He turned back to Phil, nodding his head.
“We would like that.” He said, voice soft. He made sure there was no way for his tone to be interpreted wrongly, even offering a ‘shy’ smile to seal the deal.
It worked, and the older wolf walked back into the kitchen. His footsteps were quiet, yet he could still hear them. It was a wonder how Technobloade could move so silently. Wilbur shook the thought from his brain, storing the small bits of food he had gathered under the blankets. He could get more later when Technoblade was still asleep.
“Can we get up?” Tommy asked his voice nothing more than a whisper. Wilbur thought for a minute before nodding. Slowly uncurling from his brother he slipped off the couch. He reached his hands out for Tommy, letting the small pup climb into his arms. He situated themselves so Tommy was comfortably resting on his hip, and his injury wasn’t being pressed too hard against Wilbur’s side.
Tommy let out a small hum, nodding towards the kitchen. Wilbur sucked in a breath before quietly paddling over to the archway. His eyes quickly searched the inside of the kitchen, seeing Phil mess with something on the stove. Technoblade was sitting at the table, a cup of steaming coffee in hand, a book in the other.
The Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows … Wilbur had never heard of it, but he could only guess it was interesting as Technoblade’s eyes never seemed to leave the pages. But then again, the man looked half-dead on his feet, so it could be anything really.
Philza looked up, blue eyes softening at the sight of the two brothers.
“Good morning.” He greeted, voice soft. “Forgive Techno, he’s never been much of a morning person.” Wilbur kept his eyes away from the man, deciding it’s best not to look at him all together.
“Can I, uh, by chance get your names? I don’t think you’d like to just be referred to as pups, huh?” Phil said, turning back around to focus on the stove. Tommy looked to Wilbur, and Wilbur chewed on his lip.
For one, they were complete strangers and werewolves at that. But on the other hand, they were giving them food, and let them sleep on the couch…
“My name is Wilbur.” He decided. “And this is my brother, Tommy.”
“Nice to meet you, Tommy and Wilbur!” Phil said a strange joy in his voice that made Wilbur want to shudder. Joy like that was never genuine, it was all just lies to mask disappointment.
Technoblade just made a gruff hum in acknowledgment, eyes only glancing up from his book. They all just stood in silence for a minute, Tommy and Wilbur not daring to break it as they looked around. Wilbur knew he was counting the windows, and possible exits. There were only two. One that lead back into the living room, and the other into what looked like a sunroom? Wilbur wasn't sure, as he didn’t go and look.
“So you-” Phil cleared his throat, taking whatever was on the stove over to the table. “Would you both like to eat? I’m sure the snack you had earlier was good, but I hope my eggs and bacon with some toast are better.” His voice ended off in a cheery note, but Wilbur couldn’t ignore the small inaudible whine from his brother.
“And the muffins too?” Wilbur asked for his brother.
“Yes! Of course, we can have the muffins too!” At this Technoblade chuckled.
“Fucking old brain of yours.” He said, and wow, Wilbur didn’t know what he was expecting this man’s voice to sound like but it wasn't this.
It sounded like someone inhaled a gravel driveway and then decided to try and speak. Rough, deep, and gravely. At this, Tommy couldn’t help but giggle. Wilbur’s chest tightened, and he was about to suck in a breath but Phil’s eyes swiveled to Technoblade and then he too started to laugh.
Wilbur just grinned, letting the tension in his chest out through a quick exhale before walking over to the table. He let Tommy climb onto one of the chairs, and he watched him grin when a plate of food was slid in front of him. It was loaded with eggs and bacon, a small amount of beans, and potatoes. There was a slice of toast and there sitting right next to the plate was a muffin.
It looked delicious. It was sprinkled with flakes of sugar, and the blueberries looked melted into the batter, while still holding their roundish shape. It was crispy around the edges, but Wilbur could only hope it was soft and gooey on the inside for Tommy. Wilbur sat down in the other chair right next to Tommy, and he too was slid a plate of food.
And just like Tommy, he was given a muffin as well. It looked just the same, but Wilbur didn’t mind, instead looking up at Phil. Phil had slid Technoblade a plate, and the man was already eating. Tommy and Wilbur just sat, eyes gazing between the two adults, the unspoken rule hanging heavy in the air.
Wilbur ignored the ugly thoughts that crept into his mind, the thoughts that said Philza was going to take away the food. That he would show the two pups something so good only to take it away. Just like everyone else…
He shoved the thoughts down, eyes moving to lock onto Phil who was making himself a plate. He then turned, and the bright look on his face dimmed. Wilbur swallowed, eyes moving back down to the plate, his brain trying the memorized every detail. Every little color, every little nook, the smell, the steam, the-
“Why aren’t you eating?” Phil asked instead, taking a place next to Techno. Phil put his plate on the table, then clasped his hands together in his lap.
Was he waiting for Technoblade to tell him to eat too? Wilbur’s forced his face to stay even. He didn’t think adults kept food from each other… but… well he guessed it was possible after a short minute.
Tommy spoke up this time, voice strong, yet still wavering in a way a child’s never should. “Because you haven’t told us we can eat.” He said like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Phil’s smile fell, and his face paled slightly. Technoblades’s eyes sharpened with what Wilbur could only assume was anger.
“You can eat!” Phil said color returning to his face, as well as a sad smile. “You can always eat. You don’t have to get fucking permission to eat something that was given to you.”
Tommy’s head tilted, along with Wilbur. Tommy’s face held something along the lines of wonder, or confusion. Wilbur’s face held distrust. That wasn’t part of the rules. You had to get permission to eat. If you didn't, you were being bad, and being bad resulted in less food, beatings, being locked outside… anything!
He picked up his fork, quickly stabbing some eggs and stuffing it in his mouth. Tommy seemed to get the idea and grabbed two pieces of bacon, practically swallowing them whole with how fast he was eating.
Wilbur finished his eggs before moving to his beans and potatoes. He spread his beans over his toast before stabbing a few potato bites and eating them too. Tommy was already his toast, having eaten his beans separately.
Phil just watched, a sad look in his eyes as he looked down at his plate. He placed a hand on Techno’s knee in silent comfort. He could feel his friend tensing, anger filling his veins at whoever thought it was a good idea to starve these kids.
It didn’t matter right now, anyways. All that mattered was getting these kids fed.
Wilbur finished his potatoes and then began to eat his toast. He enjoyed the flavors, all of them melting his tongue as he finished up the bread. He looked to the bacon and quickly ate what was there, ignoring the crunchy bits the best he could to instead focus on the flavor of the fatty bits.
Tommy had already cleared his plate and was now looking at the muffin. Wilbur knew the boy must have been full, so he quickly finished what was left on his plate before grabbing the knife and grabbing Tommy’s muffin. He ignored the small hey! and cut the muffin down the middle, giving Tommy the bigger piece still.
The pup’s eyes fucking gleamed and he took the muffin. This was the only piece of the food that both boys ate slowly, savoring the flavor of sweet and salty on their taste buds. The bread was soft and warm, gooey and delicious. It made Wilbur’s brain fuzzy with old memories. Memories he couldn’t remember no matter how hard he tried, but always knew were there by the fuzziness they brought.
Phil coughed, clearing his throat and getting the pup’s attention.
“Maybe… uh- don’t eat so fast next time, ok? You’re going to get sick! And besides, we will always have more food than we need, so there can be extras in case you want seconds, or want to eat some for tomorrow, ok?”
Tomorrow? Wilbur didn’t have time to register the words' meaning before both Phil and Techno stood up from the table, chairs squeaking and sliding across the floor as they rose in unison. Tommy swallowed, eyes wide.
“Yes, Sir.” They both replied when Technoblade looked at them, his eyes still sharpened by anger. It made Wilbr’s blood run cold, and he wanted nothing more than to hide away in some blankets. But he knew that he couldn’t. Not when Tommy was there too, shaking from the gaze.
“Oh please! Don’t call me sir, it makes me feel old.” Philza chuckled. “Just call me Phil please, or Philza if you insist on something formal.”
Wilbur decided to stand, taking Technoblade’s gaze away from his brother in the process. Wilbur fought the shudder and whine down, choosing to help Tommy onto the ground. Wilbur closed his long nimble fingers around Tommy’s small hand before looking back up to Philza.
“Thank you for breakfast, Philza.” He said for the both of them before ducking his head in submission and fleeing the kitchen back to the living room. Tommy was right on his heels, eyes fluttering closed. Wilbur smiled, the idea of Tommy being sleepy from having a full belly warming his heart. But he had to wait to fall asleep. At least until they made it back to the couch so Wilbur could bundle and swaddle the boy in soft and warm blankets and surround him with pillows.
Wilbur reached the couch before he stopped. He thought for just a second before pulling all the blankets off the couch. Tommy let out a small noise of protest but silenced himself when he saw Wilbur start to push and pull the blankets in a nest-like formation.
He layered the thickest blankets on the floor in an attempt to keep the chill-out. He then used some mediocre blankets to create the small walls before layering the middle with the softest and warmest ones. He staked the pillows along the edges, and when he finished he drug Tommy down into it, covering him in one of the softer blankets.
The boy simply smiled, nuzzling into the warmth before promptly passing out. Wilbur smiled, eyes softened with adoration. He sat like that for a few minutes, a hand having been moved to gently rub the pup’s back.
But it didn’t last long, and he was soon alerted to the sound of footsteps entering the living room. He threw his umber eyes to meet Phil, who stood at an entrance. Wilbur thinks it’s the entrance that leads to the front door. He forces his eyes to look at Phil’s ear. Anywhere but at his eyes.
“Hey, Wilbur.” Phil spoke, his voice soft and gentle. Wilbur didn’t say anything, instead just staring at his ear, noticing the dangling emerald earring. It was encased around the edges in a w thin layer of gold, and it looked expensive. “Did Tommy fall asleep?” Wilbur just nods, moving so he sits between Phil and Tommy.
“Do you mind if I ask…” Phil starts, eyes looking into Wilbur’s. Phil’s eyes are blue that reminds Wilbur of an ocean. Something free, fierce, and dangerous. Wilbur just swallows, slowly nodding his head yes.
“Would you like a bath? We have some old clothes you can wear until we get yours washed if you want one.” And well that… that was not the question Wilbur thought he was going to get asked.
He thought he was going to get asked about what happened to them. Why Tommy was stabbed, why was he stabbed with Silver, how old they were, where they came from. Anything that wasn’t just, ‘Do you want a bath?’ It made Wilbur’s head spin.
Philza wasn’t like any other adults that he knew. He was nice, and he let them eat food while on the couch. Like… who does that?! Philza does, and apparently Technoblade too, since he didn’t yell at them either.
Hell, Technoblade didn’t yell at him when he first took the food! That was… that was crazy. That was unheard of, and yet it still happened.
He shook his head, trying to clear his racing thoughts. He’ll have to sort them out and think them later.
“Yes please, I think he would like that.” Wilbur says, motioning down to the sleeping Tommy. Phil’s face is kept neutral, but his eyes and voice soften.
“For you too, mate.” He said. Wilbur tries to keep the shock from his eyes, and he knows he fails when Phil lets out a croon. “You’re allowed to bathe too, Wilbur.”
“Tommy needs it more than I do.” He tries to defend himself, and he knows the argument is weak when Phil chuckles.
“Maybe, but you need one too and we have enough water to make sure you both get a bath.” Wilbur just sits and stares, thoughts running wild again.
Philza was now offering a bath. And not just one, but two! Two whole baths! One for Tommy, and him! That was... That was like winning the lottery!
He eagerly nodded, looking back down to Tommy. Gods did he want to take one now, but he didn’t want to leave his brother down here alone. Especially if woke up, and Wilbur was nowhere to be found… Wilbur doesn’t think he can put his brother through that. Again.
“Can we take one later… when Tommy wakes up?” He asks, hoping to all hope that the baths would stay, just like the food. Phil just smiles, his eyes crinkling.
“Of course, mate.”