Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Don’t cry! Oh, Toms don’t cry! It’s ok!” Wilbur ushered, hands hovering over the bleeding wound in the pup’s side. Tommy just whimpered, eyes fogged over and distant. It hurt. It hurt so bad. 

The silver blade of the knife had already taken effect, stopping the enhanced healing of the werewolf, and lighting his nerves on fire. It didn’t matter that the wound isn’t fatal. It hurt. And that is all that registered in Tommy’s head. The pain, the fear, the shock. 

Wilbur’s hands shook, watching as his baby brother’s eyes fell heavy, blue eyes a light grey, still kicking with hints of blue as the pain became too much. Wilbur didn’t know what to do, fear clouding his mind as he picked up the small pup. 

The streets were empty, and it wasn’t like he could go back into the house. Not with that monster inside. And to think, Wilbur was close to considering this family an actual family. He growled, eyes burning with tears of frustration he would never let fall.

Yeah right. There was no one else out there who could take care of Tommy the way he could. And tonight he was proven right by that monster of a man. He felt tears welling in his eyes and fought them back. He could cry later when Tommy was safe and warm. Until then, he would walk down the street, holding his little baby brother close, and when the dirt road turned into sticks leaves, and brambles he didn’t notice. 

The only thought in his mind was a mantra of getting Tommy away, getting Tommy safe, getting him help, no! No help! 

Needs help! 

We can’t go for help! 

Safe?

Not safe- danger- hurt pup 

His instincts weren't being fucking helpful either, which was always a bonus. He tried to ignore Tommy’s whimpers and whines, skin pale. It was a stark difference to the blue veins running underneath the skin, and it made Wilbur all much more aware of how thin the boy was. 

Was he not eating back there? Was he giving me his food? God damnit! 

Wilbur kept walking, the bushes turning to trees, the dark sky fading behind even darker leaves. The moon vanished, its sickly white glow turning to shadow as Wilbur searched. He didn’t know for what, he didn‘t know for how long. He knew his feet were aching, his muscles begging to rest, arms screaming. 

It didn‘t matter. Tommy was hurt, blood sluggishly dripping from the wound. With every step, the dried blood got painted over with fresh blood. It made Wilbur want to cry to any God listening for help. He new better 

The Gods didn’t fucking listen, they just watched. 

But something still made Wilbur stop. The sound of a branch breaking close by. Too close. It made Wilbur freeze, blood turning to ice as umber eyes searched frantically through the dark trees. 

He couldn’t see anything, and it put him on edge. He didn’t know what to do. He didn’t know. Tommy whined, high-pitched and scared. It made Wilbur want to cry as he searched faster, eyes burning with unshed tears. 

He still couldn’t find anything, and it terrified him. He wanted to keep his baby brother safe, no he needed to keep his baby brother safe, and he couldn’t! 

But what stopped him completely dead in his tracks was the low rumble. It wasn’t a growl, it wasn’t a bark, but it was there and it made Wilbur’s legs lock up heartbeat quickening. Tommy whimpered, trying to twist around to look to see what Wilbur was looking at, or for. 

Wilbur pinned him to his chest, a low snarl rising from his lips. Whatever was out there just huffed before almost silent footsteps approached. Wilbur turned, holding Tommy close, holding him tighter. The blood seeping into his shirt was only warm, but it burned to Wilbur. 

Brown eyes searched, frantic, desperate. Tommy whined, trying to wiggle out of Wilbur’s grasp. He only held tighter, wincing to himself when Tommy cried out in discomfort and pain, wiggling his side away from Wilbur’s grapes. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, just stay still, it’ll be ok, Toms.” Wilbur whispered, loosening his grasp, eyes swiveling through the trees. There was something out there, and it was dangerous! And why, why couldn’t he find it?! 

The rumbling started again, and the sound of something heavy moving made Wilbur drop, gently laying Tommy on the ground before shifting. Bones cracked, muscles tore, but it was painless as the boy was replaced with a dark brown colored wolf. 

There were mixes of some other colors, but the moon had them hidden as he hunched low, curling his body around Tommy. Tommy whined, burying his hands in Wilbur’s fur and tucking his head closer. Something was out there, and it was something Wilbur couldn’t see. 

Tommy wanted to poke his head out, he wanted to snarl and bare his teeth, tell whatever was out there to fuck off. 

Something was telling him that it wasn’t wise. 

The pup wanted to shift, but the bleeding wound in his side was a sharp reminder of what was best. Instead, he curled as close as he could to Wilbur, leaching his warmth as the older tucked his head over Tommy’s neck. 

A low growl emitted from the wolf, teeth bared in warning. The rumbling and steps didn't stop, if anything they just got louder. Tommy whined eyes shut tight. Wilbur snarled, snapping his jaws. The bones slammed together, resulting in a sharp clack sound. 

The steps stopped, but the rumblings didn’t and Tommy wanted to sob. 

I’m sorry, Wilby. I’m sorry, Wilby. I’m sorry, Wilby. He repeated the thoughts silently to himself, eyes watering. He wanted to help, but there was nothing he could do! 

Wilbur’s hackles were raised, eyes locking onto a figure in the darkness. It was finally visible. He snarled, teeth snapping together. He wanted to tell the thing to fuck off, but keeping Tommy safe was more important. 

The figure lowered its head taking a few more steps closer, and that's when Wilbur realized that that thing was. A wolf. But it was much too large to be native. 

No… no…no! He… they just stumbled into a werewolf’s territory. 

Wilbur closed his jaws with a click, curling tighter around his brother. He lowered his ears, forced his hackles to lay flat. He curled his tail around Tommy, tucking his head closer to his brother. 

The werewolf just watched, copper eyes gleaming in the night. Its tail was even with its back, and Wilbur could see its reddish hue of fur. Said fur was long but well maintained. There were no sticks and brambles in it, and when it approached it kept its head even, eyes alert. 

The other wolf’s nose was sniffing, and the closer it got the together Wilbur curled, the smaller he tried to make them look. The other wolf kept approaching, Wilbur kept curling until Tommy yelped out and curled in on himself. Only then did Wilbur circle his head around to hide in the fluff of his tail. He shut his eyes, tongue poking out to lick at Tommy’s hair in what he can only hope is comforting. 

The other wolf stops, a soft huff leafing his muzzle as he turns his head to the sky. A long and drawn-out howl fills the dead silence. That should’ve been their first sign. 

A quieter howl fills the air, and Wilbur fights back his whimper. Tommy doesn't succeed, breaths coming fast and short, whimpers, whines, and soft yowls leaving his lips. Wilbur just shakes, mind racing along with his heart. 

The smell of his baby brother's blood fills his nose, and he wants to cry. Hell, he would be if wasn’t shifted. 

The sound of paws crunching dead leaves and sticks made Wilbur’s blood freeze. When they stopped, Wilbur couldn’t breathe. His breathing had stopped, his heart racing and mind filled with the thoughts of just keeping Tommy safe. 

He wanted to growl, but now there were two of them. It would be a death sentence to try and fight off two werewolves. Nonetheless two adult werewolves. Tommy whined, curling in closer to Wilbur, body beginning to shake. Wilbur could only gently lick the boy's head, clearing away dirt and grime in an attempt to comfort. 

The two other werewolves began to approach, and it forced a choked-off snarl to escape his lips. The young boy immediately whined, ears pinned against his head. He wanted to roll over, expose his soft underbelly in submission, but he had someone he needed to protect. 

A low chuffing sound was heard from one of the wolves, soon followed by the sound of bones shifting, cracking, and breaking. Wilbur waited in silence, eyes opening in shock as the sound of feet, actual feet crossing the forest floor filled the newfound silence. 

“Easy…” A voice, gentle and soft spoke. It still made Tommy jump, whine, and then grab onto Wilbur, little claws growing in fear and digging into Wilbur’s skin. “Easy, it’s ok. I promise, mate. My name is Philza, but you can call me Phil. And the, uh, the red scary one, that’s Technoblade, but I just call him Techno.” His voice was like smoke, Wilbur noted dully. Airy and soft looking, but oh so deadly in large quantities. 

Tommy whined, head turning to the floor to keep his gaze down and away. The wolf- Philza’s- voice held an air of power to it. This wolf was an alpha and an old one at that. Wilbur whined, high and scared and it sent Tommy into a state of fear you could smell it. Wilbur cut off his whine after that, trying to shield Tommy better. 

“I’m not going to hurt you, I promise.” Philza said, still calm and gentle. “One of you is hurt, and I’m guessing it’s the one you’re protecting, huh?” He phased it as a question, one to give the illusion of choice. Wilbur growled, low and mean, or well… as mean as he could get. 

A chuckle filled the air, and it made Wilbur freeze. Shit, shit, shit, shit! He just growled at Philza! Fuck! Did he just screw themselves over? Did he just force his little brother-

“It’s ok, just take deep breaths. I only want to help you.” Philza said, and Wilbur forced his head to rise, forcing himself to cover Tommy completely instead of hiding and staring Philza in the eye. 

The man had pale blue eyes, like the hue you’d expect to find in a lake painting with sandy blonde hair. It was lighter than Tommy’s golden curls, but it still made Wilbur stair. His ears were still flattened against his head, but at least now he could see what he was up against. 

“Good! That was good! You're doing great.” Phil praised, words gentle and almost… soothing. “There we are, hello pups.” He crooned, voice soft and gentle. Umber eyes tore away from the face and looked for Technoblade. 

Who the fuck names their kid Technobalde? Like damn, poor kid. 

The other wolf was just laying on the ground, head resting on his paws eyes closed. His tail was tucked to his side, and his ears flicked every so often. He looked peaceful, considering what was happening. 

Wilbur forced his gaze to lock back onto Phil, but he forced himself to be aware of Technoblade resting a few feet away. Phil’s eyes glanced to his packmate and they softened. 

“He’s not gonna hurt you either, mate. I promise.” Phil whispered. “Can I touch you?” Wilbur’s eyes widened, and his ears perked up before he forced them down again. No one had ever asked him that before. He pulled his lips up and bared his teeth. No way in hell was he letting him touch him, not when Tommy lay curled under him, shaking and whimpering.

“That’s alright, you’re already doing so well.” Phil murmured. “But I need to get you someplace safe. I know you know their hurt. I know you know it isn't safe out here. C’mon pup, just come with me and let’s get someplace warm, yeah? Warm and safe for ‘em to heal, alright mate?” Again, he was phrasing it as a question. Wilbur knew he didn’t really have a choice. 

He glared daggers at Phil, who sat on his haunches like he don't know what he was doing. Tommy let out a soft cry, shaking his head no into Wilbur’s side. They didn’t have a choice. It was ‘go with them now, or get hurt here now’. 

Wilbur shifted his body, umber eyes moving down to stare at wide dull blue. He knows what his baby brother is thinking, he knows. But they have no choice. They have to go, and it seems that Tommy understands that too. He gives a small nod, tears running down his face as he reaches a bloody hand to cup Wilbur’s face. 

They’ll be ok. 

They’ll be ok… 

The walk with Philza and Technoblade was tense. The air was thick, and Wilbur kept his head low as he helped Tommy walk. He walked on his injured side, letting the boy press into him and not have to worry about Philza or Technoblade. 

Philza tried to start a conversation with Tommy, but the boy stayed silent, eyes hazy and foggy and still oh so full of fear. It made the older wolf upset. At what, the pups could only guess, but they stuck closer together. 

Techno wasn’t far away, making sure the path ahead was clear. Wilbur’s tail was tucked to his belly, ears flat against his head as he walked. He kept his body turned in a very subtle ‘c’ for Tommy to lean against. Tommy walked slowly, Wilbur even slower. Phil kept checking back on them before eventually stopping and walking behind them. 

It made Wilbur afraid but he kept walking, curling tighter around Tommy instead to keep him as calm as he could. 

It wasn’t working. 

It didn’t take long before Techno picked up a trot, approaching what looked like a nice small cottage. The walls were a very pleasant clean white, white dark wooden accents. Vines crawled up one of the walls, creating a cluttered look that was pleasing. 

Wilbur wanted to cry as they approached, Phil practically pushing them to the house. Technoblade had already vanished into the home, paws clicking against the floor as he moved.

They only got to the steps before Tommy stopped, clutching his side as he pressed into Wilbur, legs shaking before his knees gave out and he hit the ground with a thud. Philza sucked in a sharp breath of air when Wilbur went down too, curling around the boy as he snarled, consequences be damned. 

Unfortnently, Technoblade wasn’t there to see the situation so when he reappeared in the door to see Wilbur snarling at Phil he lunged. His teeth snapped around the pup’s scruff before pulling him away, lifting the curled pup away from a shaking Tommy. 

This didn’t help (obviously).

Wilbur snarled, twisting and thrashing as he was pinned, a large paw coming to push his back to the floor. The new heard sobs and cries from his brother urged him on as he twisted, snapping his jaws with harsh growls. His hackles were raised, eyes narrow as he lunged for whatever it is he could get. 

Small teeth were able to twist enough to sink into a soft cheek, drawing blood as Wilbur used all his remaining strength to bite and never let go. Technoblade snarled, low and vicious as he reeled back, ears forward as the larger wolf’s hackles rose, making him even bigger. 

His paws hit the floor before he stood on his hind legs, bringing his front paws to the pup. He let go of the pup in his mouth before using his claws to tear him away. Wilbur’s teeth pulled the skin on his cheek, blood spilling from the wound as he hit the ground. Hard. 

His breath was knocked from him and Technoblade was back upon him before he could blink. Sharp teeth rested firmly against his muzzle, not hard enough to hurt, but enough to put him in minor pain and major discomfort. He cried out, a high pitch whine adding to the song of his brother. 

In fact, his brother was shouting, yelling, and cursing profanities at Technobalde. 

“You let him go, you bastard! Don’t you dare fucking hurt him! I’ll-I’ll kill you!” Phil was by his side, holding his shoulders as the wound began to pump more blood. Wilbur wanted to cry, but the best he could do was shake, tail tucked beneath his and rigid with his ears flattened to his head. 

Technoblade didn’t let up, a constant growl silencing both pups’ whines and sobs. Blood dripped from his muzzle before the flesh sizzled like it burned. In seconds it was gone and this was when Wilbur realized. 

These werewolves were powerful… they were going to kill them. 

Philza snarled something low and warning, silencing Technoblade’s growls as he picked up Tommy who thrashed and screams, tears streaming down his face with snot and sweat. His skin was pale, his eyes still hazy but sharply focused on Wilbur’s lying body. 

Technoblade huffed, something low, something mean before unlocking his jaws. He still kept a paw in the pup, keeping him pinned before Phil glared, eyes narrowing to slits as he jerked his head to the door. Technoblade lowered his head before stepping over Wilbur and jumping up the steps. He vanished back inside with the sound of breaking and shifting bones filling the air. 

“Fuck.” Phil mumbled, holding Tommy closer, a hand over his wound. It made the boy go silent, eyes wide with fear and falling limp in his hold. “It’s ok. It’s ok. I- fuck! ” He took a few deep breaths before kneeling on the ground next to Wilbur. He hadn't moved. “It’s ok, you didn’t do anything wrong. I’ll take care of Techno, what he did was uncalled for. It’s ok. I-I didn’t mean to scare you when I went to help him.” He nodded to Tommy, who was still frozen in fear, eyes darting between his brother and Philza. 

“I just wanted to help, and you have every right to snarl at me. I… I’m going to take you both inside now, ok? Can you walk, pup?” He asked. Wilbur didn’t move for a second, body still frozen to the floor with the sounds of Technoblade’s snarling echoing in his head. But when Tommy whimpered something soft and broken he forced his limbs to move, gathering his legs under him before standing. 

He pulled his lips back at Phil, keeping his vocal threats to himself as he kept his eyes on Tommy. Phil nodded, some strange emotion in his eyes. It wasn’t pain or sadness. Adults don’t feel those for kids. 

Together the three made their way into the cottage, the clean white walls suddenly feeling dirty and cold with the events of the night. Tommy kept his face hidden in Phil’s neck when they approached what looked like a living room. There was a large sofa covered in blankets with a nest of blankets and clothes on the floor in front of a fireplace. 

The mantle was made of a nice red oak, filled with trinkets and pictures Wilbur couldn’t make out from the ground. His wolf for just wasn't as tall as his human form was all. It wasn’t because he was looking at his brother the whole time, nope not at all. 

Phil was gentle when setting Tommy down on the pile of blankets on the sofa. He then lifted Wilbur onto it despite his quick snarl before he silenced himself and curled around Tommy. The boy let out a sigh, eyes heavy and closing. It made Wilbur panic as he licked the boy's face, rough tongue picking up dirt and grime. 

He whine when all the boy did was shift, turning his face away from Wilbur. He didn’t stop whining, even after Phil returned with a leather satchel full of medical supplies. Philza didn’t hush the pup, instead just nudging him out of the way as he rolled Tommy to his back, wound facing him. It made Wilbur growl, ears pinned and tail tucked. 

He was scared, ok? He was scared and he couldn’t do anything to help, and this older wolf was going to go near his baby brother's wound and “fix” it? It would make anyone irrational and scared. 

“It’s ok, pup. I promise. I’m just cleaning the wound. There’s no healing, and a line of black so this is a silver wound, right?” Phil said, voice gentle and soft. Wilbur just merely bared his teeth, eyes wide and searching. The other werewolf was nowhere to be seen, but Wilbur could hear him shuffling around upstairs. 

He couldn’t think of what he was doing as it sounded like the man was moving furniture around the place. 

Wilbur looked back to Phil, whose blue eyes were locked onto the wound. His hands were steady, a small glass vile filled with a cream-colored substance in one hand as he spread it around the edge of the wound with the other. Immediately, Wilbur could see it taking effect as it was absorbed into the skin. The thin black ring around the stab wound was fading into too pale skin, and the cream was starting to slowly patch the smallest of the wound, repairing the damaged skin and returning small amounts of color to it. 

“He’ll be ok, pup. He is going to need some stitches and some medicine. But he’ll be ok, alright mate?” Wilbur nodded, ears still flat as Phil grabbed the necessary tools. He began to stitch the wound closed, and they both winced when Tommy whimpered trying to shift away from the needle puncturing his skin. 

Wilbur was there to brace against Tommy, not letting the boy get far as Phil hurried, keeping his hands steady and smooth as he finished. He tied it off, covering it with a bandage soaked in something that smelled really nice. Like a warm day with the coming of rain if Wilbur had to name it. 

Tommy stopped moving, eyes fluttering behind closed lids, his breathing falling even as he snuggled into Wilbur’s side. A content sigh fell from his lips and he smiled. He actually to Gods smiled! Wilbur couldn’t stop the fond huff from spilling from his lips, laying his head down against the boy’s back. 

“Get some rest, ok?” Phil said, gently bringing a hand to rub a small circle into Wilbur’s fur. The pup leaned into it, fatigue crashing into his body like a bullet, sapping all his energy away, including his well-crafted and built-up walls. 

Wilbur nodded, head filling with cotton and fuzz. Tommy was already asleep, eyes darting back and forth. The color was slowly returning to his cheeks, and when Phil stood he gathered a few blankets and laid them over the two pups. It was only then that Wilbur realized how cold he truly was, and he melted into the warmth. Of the blanket, of his brother, of Phil stating a small fire a few meters away. 

It was perfect. Or it would have been perfect they weren't with two very strong and very powerful werewolves. But like it was mentioned, Wilbur’s energy was sapped away, leaving no room in his head for cognitive thought, just a happy fuzzy feeling, and warmth. 

For the first time in years, he felt safe. 

And if he tried hard enough, he could ignore the warning bells ringing in his head. He could ignore his instinct begging him to get Tommy to safety. He could ignore it all as his eyelids drooped, too heavy to keep open anymore. And when they closed, he was pulled into sleep’s void. A gentle place full of darkness and calm, where everything was in motion, but nothing moved.

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.”

Chapter Text

It took a while for Tommy to wake up, the pup finally warm and full. Not only that, but the two adults were being nice? What a strange day. Tommy felt for once… safe. Now he always felt safe, at least when he was with Wilbur, but right now, with a full belly, and warm blankets in a soft nest… it was the best he’s ever felt. It was wonderful. 

Tommy, however, eventfully had to get up. So he did. He awoke as slowly as he could manage, basking in the warmth of the blankets. He knew he was in Philza’s house, and he knew Wilbur was close by since he could smell him. He knew there was nothing that was going to hurt him, since Wilbur hadn’t shushed him, and curled around him yet. 

“C’mon baby, you have to get up, I have a surprise, sunshine.” Wilbur murmured, a hand leaving his hair that he didn’t know was there. But now that it was gone, it was all Tommy could focus on, a low whine leaving his lips. It did cause his eyes to open though, but he shut them quickly at the warm lighting. 

Wilbur chuckled, standing from the nest. The blankets drooped and moved and it made the pup frown. He opened his eyes again, blinking rapidly to clear the fog and smudged lines from his vision. He then cast his sky-like eyes to meet Wilbr’s umber ones. 

“Good afternoon, dearheart.” Wilbur said, voice soft and gentle. 

“Wht’s th’ srprise?” Tommy asked, words slurred. “Bitch.” He had to add it for good measure. Wilbur just chuckled, eyes growing fond as he watched his brother try and fight off sleep. 

“How do you feel about a bath?” Wilbur asked, cupping Tommy’s cheek in his hand. And Gods the pure fucking excitement that filled the boy's features were enough to send Wilbur spiraling. 

Thoughts of being able to see his brother this happy all the time filled his head. Thoughts of seeing him smile like this, so free and thoughtless, made Wilbur’s heart swell. But it couldn't. Eventually, Philza and Technoblade were going to get tired of them, and they were going to throw them out. Or beat them. Or starve them,... or-

“Right now?!” Tommy asked and if he had a tail it would be wagging from side to side at the speed of a bullet. His cheeks were pulled in a huge smile, chipped tooth and all. His eyes were crinkled at the edges, and he was giggling. Honest to Gods giggling! ‘

“Yeah sunshine, right now.” Wilbur said, his voice soft and fond. Tommy started to shake, whole body wiggling as he untangled himself for the nest. Wilbur just chuckled, moving to help Tommy stand and then grabbing onto his hand. “Phil is gonna let us bathe, and he said we can wear some old clothes of theirs while they wash ours.” 

Tommy just nodded, squeezing his hand. Wilbur squeezed back before taking a calming breath through his nose and letting it out through his mouth. 

“Phil!” He called, his voice sharp. It made him flinch at the sound but forced it away when Tommy just looked up and smiled. 

“We get a bath today, we get a bath today!” Tommy sang under his breath as feet came pounding down the stairs. They sounded… frantic? No, Phil wouldn’t be frantic just because Wilbur yelled for him. Right?

“Is everything al- oh! Tommy, you're awake!” Phil said, voice changing from worry to relief. Wilbur ignored it, deciding to think about it later. Tommy just hummed, squeezing Wil’s hand a little tighter. “You both ready for that bath?” When he got two excited nods the man smiled. “Well then c’mon! I’ll let you two get situated in the bathroom, and I’ll knock three times to let you know I’ve got the towels and clothes, and I’ll leave them on the floor by the door.” 

Wilbur nodded and Tommy grinned, barely holding off from hopping from foot to foot in excitement. Wilbur’s heart clenched at the thought of this being the last time he sees Tommy this happy. Dread fills his mind, and he chases it away, promising to think of something he could do to see Tommy this happy more often since they’ll be on their own. 

Fuck… they’ll be on their own! Wilbur will have to get a job… and find someplace safe for Tommy to stay while he’s at work, someplace safe where he can shift and run around too! Wilbur promises himself he’ll think about all this later. Perhaps when Tommy is once again asleep and he won't be reading his older brother like a book. 

When Wilbur comes back to it he’s already halfway up the stairs, following Phil down the hallway and into a bathroom. He was already counting the windows. So far there were only three. 

Tommy walks into the bathroom first after Phil opened the door and stepped to the side, hands behind his back. Wilbur watched as his face lit up in excitement as he took in the cluttered but clean countertops and flooring. Wilbur gave a small nod to Phil before entering the bathroom. 

“Alright, the door has a lock on it, feel free to use it. No one will ever enter the bathroom if the door is closed, we’ll knock first and ask, so don’t worry if you don’t lock it, no one will come in. I’ll be right back with your clothes and then you two can have at it, alright?” Phil said, waiting for the brothers to nod before turning and heading down the hall into who knows where. 

Wilbur immediately locked the door, and noticing the chain lock, he reached up and slid it to lock as well. Tommy was bouncing in excitement. Wilbur just looked on in amusement before looking around the bathroom. 

There were sadly no windows in reaching height unless you count the skylight in the ceiling. But the room was spacious. There was a lot of room to walk around, and the countertops were clean. Yeah, they had stuff littered about like towels, soaps, toothbrushes, and other things, but it wasn’t covered in mud or blood. 

It was clean, and the floor wasn’t caked in dust. It helped soothe something deep inside Wilbur, helped keep his instincts from wanting to make sure Tommy was safe and wasn't going to get sick just by being exposed.  

He opened the sink cabinets, quickly catching a view of the shampoos and conditioners. He noticed how they all looked new. And the bottom of the cabinets wasn't covered in mold. It was… different, to say the least. 

He grabbed a bottle of shampoo, turning it over in his hands. The label read that it is super moisturizing, and helped with sensitive heads. Wilbur wanted to chuckle at the thought. He took the shampoo to the edge of the tub, noticing how nice the tub looked. At the old home, the white porcelain was practically brown with who fucking knows what, and the bottom of the tub had lost its grip. 

The tub looked to be made of fucking crystals. It was shiny clean, and the bottom of the tub had a gripping mat! It could be changed when it was getting old! God Wilbur had never even thought of that. 

Well, for some context, when Tommy was little, like super little, maybe 1 or 2, he had been standing in the bath, splashing around with toys and cloth, just making a mess. But he was giggling and squealing in happiness, and Wilbur couldn’t take that away from him. He should have since a few minutes later the toddler had slipped, pulsating his face on the tub’s wall. His gums had been bleeding, and were probably the first stains on that disgusting tub, as well as they had been swollen for days. 

Tommy wouldn't eat anything, and it had sent Wilbur spiraling while trying to keep him healthy while also taking the beating their foster dad had decided to issue out. 

It was just… it was a bad week. 

But now this tub had a mat that was practically new! He didn’t have to worry about that. He didn't have to worry about cleaning the blood from the tub, about trying to fix a chipped tooth. He didn’t have to fucking worry, and it relaxed him, his shoulders dropping and his posture easing. 

“Can I get in the bath now?” Tommy asked, breaking him away from his thoughts. 

“Yeah, Toms, just let me find the plug…” He said, words trailing off as he stood from the edge. He placed the bottle down before looking on the countertops for a plug. He noticed the small chain attached to the rubber and picked it up before walking back to the white tub and sticking it in the drain. 

He looked to the handle next to the faucet. He turned it a couple twists before the water began pouring out. It splashed against the bottom of the tub and Wilbur beckoned Tommy over. 

“Alright, bubs. Put your hand under the water and tell me when it’s just right.” The boy did as instructed, and after finding the perfect temperature giggled in anticipation. 

He had stood up, hopping in a few circles before a knock sounded at the door. 

“Hey, Pups! I brought the clothes and towels, and am leaving them by the door. You both come out when you’re ready, we have the hot water to spare!” Phil’s muffled voice spoke, and Wilbur tilted his head to listen to something soft hitting the floor and footsteps echoing down the hall. He wanted a few more seconds before opening the door and snatching the two fluffy towels and clothes from the ground. 

One towel was red, the other gray, but both were fluffy. And soft. It felt like holding silk if silk was a cloud. Wilbur quickly set them aside on the counter after moving some of the clutter to the sides. He then looked at the clothes, noticing that they were both relatively the same size or small, but would drown both boys in the fabric nonetheless. 

Tommy hummed, poking the soft fabrics of the towels before gasping. 

“Wilbur! Did you feel how soft these are? Did you?” Tommy asked. “These have got to be the softest things I've ever touched! And I’ve touched a lot of soft things, like clouds, and they don’t even begin to compare!” Wilbur chuckled, rolling his eyes fondly as he put the clothes down on the towels. 

“Since when did my little brother touch clouds? And why did he not invite me?” He asked, laughing softly when Tommy rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. 

“When you were too busy sleeping!” He remarked. “Now turn around so I can get in the bath!” Wilbur just smiled, turning around and facing the door. It was then he noticed the door wasn’t locked and moved to lock it. 

He only turned around when he heard a small splash. 

Tommy completely submerged before he popped up, water streaming down his face and dripping from his hair. 

“Tommy!” Wilbur yelped, rushing to the edge of the tub. “Be careful! You still have a bandage!” He tried to keep the panic off his face and out of his voice, but he knew it still showed when Tommy bowed his head, nodding sheepishly. Wilbur just shook his head, trying to stop a worried smile from creeping over his lips. 

The water had already collected a fair share of color just from the initial dip. Wilbur couldn’t wait to see how many times he had to drain the water and add more till his brother was clean. 

Tommy just giggled, moving to dunk his head back in the water and bringing his hands up to scratch and scrub at his hair. He came back up, and the water was collecting small clumps of dirt. But, Tommy’s hair was losing its gross coppery color and slowly gaining back its gold. Wilbur couldn’t wait to make it shine again. 

Tommy was happy to splash and pull the water, making little waves and then diving beneath them. Wilbur just smiled, moving to open the cabinet once more and grab a bottle of conditioner. When he turned around, the water was starting to turn a light brown. He just chuckled, doubting he looked any better. He quickly grabbed one of the hand towels on the sink and made his way back over to his brother. 

“Alright, Toms before you can really play,” He began, drawing out the word ‘play’ to add some fun. “We need to get you all cleaned.” Tommy just frowned before slowly nodding his head. Wilbur just gave a soft smile, in turn, rolling his sweater sleeves up before bringing the small towel up and plunging it in the water.

He then let Tommy take it from him and begin scrubbing at his skin, only stepping in every now and then to help reach hard to get spots or help scrub at some stubborn piece of dirt.  

By the time they were done with the first wash, the water had turned a swampy brown. Which wasn’t surprising since Tommy last bathed two weeks ago. Wilbur always made sure to give Tommy his baths whenever he could since the pup was always getting into something. It was a miracle the water wasn’t black. 

Tommy’s pale white skin was slowly poking through, and Wilbur decided it was best to drain the water. Tommy frowned, watching as it swirled around the drain. Wilbur just chuckled at Tommy’s antics, the boy swaying in a circle to match the ‘water tornado’. 

He then turned the water back on, letting Tommy put his head under the stream. He giggled, and Wilbur helped rub most of the surface dirt out, watching as it collected on the bottom of the tub before being dragged to the drain. Tommy just giggled before he plugged the tub back up and watched it fill.

Wilbur couldn't stop the fond expression from taking over his face, and he picked up the shampoo bottle before popping the cap open. 

“Do you want me to wash your hair?” Wilbur asked, watching as Tommy’s head snapped up, his pupils wide, smiler even wider. He nodded his head vigorously, moving through the water to sit cross-legged, hands resting on his lap as he stared at his brother.

Wilbur just smiled, pouring some of the white goo on his fingers before reaching over and scrubbing it into Tommy’s hair. The boy practically purred, leaning into the touch the way a moth flies towards the light. 

Wilbur just chuckled, working the soapy suds into the boy’s hair, running his blunt nails along Tommy’s scalp. He helped the boy wash it out, holding his hand a little above the pup’s eyes as he rinsed the soap from his hair. 

The boy’s hair color was slowly returning to its shiny golden color, the grease, and mats slowly easing out. Wilbur would have to ask for a brush, hopefully, Phil had a spare they could use.  

He ran the shampoo once more through Tommy’s hair, watching as the shine returned, and the grease fled. It made him happy, to see his brother well cared for. He wished he could keep it like this. 

Once he was happy with the results, he helped Tommy rinse it from his hair, and then let the boy splash around the tub for a minute while he grabbed the conditioner. Tommy just giggled, splashing around in the bubbles from the shampoo before scooting to the edge of the tub and turning top face the clean white wall. 

Wilbur just smiled, squeezing the conditioner onto his hand. He flicked the cap closed before he began to run it through the boy’s hair, massaging it into his scalp. Tommy was practically purring, eyes closed and head tilted back, pushing into Wilbur’s nimble fingers. Wilbur could only smile fondly, folding the golden curls and soaking them in the conditioner. 

(If he got more conditioner and poured it directly into the boy’s hair, kneading it into the golden strands like one would weave gold, then that’s for him to know and him alone.) 

“What you thinking about, Tommy?” Wilbur asked, rinsing his hands in the warm water. 

“Mmm… I’m thinking about how cool this place is.” Tommy said. “We got a warm breakfast! And we got a fucking muffin, Wilby!” Wilbur grimaced, eyes squinting. “And their werewolves!” 

“Toms, sweetheart,” Wilbur began, voice soft. “They’re dangerous. We don’t know what kind of mess we could be getting into.” Tommy fell silent, hands stopping in the water. The only sound was the water hitting the edges of the tub, quietly sloshing up before sliding down back into the water before everything came to a standstill. 

Wilbur had to speak again. “I want to stay too, Tommy.” He said, a sigh forcing its way out of his nose. “I wish we could. But we don’t know. They’re werewolves too, they could be more dangerous than Dream, Toms. They could hurt us in ways we can’t imagine.” Tommy dropped his head, a wobbling frown coming to his face. 

It fell silent again, and Wilbur cringed when his brother sucked in a breath. 

“But we don’t know if they’re dangerous. They’ve been really nice, Wilbur!” Tommy said, turning in the tub to face his brother. “Name one thing they’ve done wrong!” Wilbur looked at Tommy, eyes filled with a sorrow that he didn’t know he had. 

“Tommy, when I was protecting you, what did Technoblade do?” Wilbur asked. Tommy hummed but didn’t answer, eyes falling to the bubbly water. “Tommy, if Phil isn’t dangerous, Technoblade is, and I can’t put you at risk. Not again.” 

Tommy just whined, lips wobbling and eyes filling with tears before he turned around and pulled his knees up to his chest. Wilbur frowned, eyebrows furrowing as he brought a hand up to scratch lightly at Tommy’s back before moving up and scratching at his scalp, helping lather the conditioner just a little bit more. 

“I wish we could have this, sunshine. But we can’t trust them.” Wilbur’s voice was soft, gentle, and warm. He held the waver off from his tone, letting it out in a shuddering sigh. “I’m sorry, baby. Truly. Let’s just get this bath done, and then you can play in the water, ok?” 

Tommy just nodded, leaning back in the water and bringing his hands up to scrub the conditioner out of his hair. Wilbur smiled weakly, helping out to get the last of it out, and then ruffled the boy’s wet curls before standing from the edge of the tub and walking to the door. 

He slid down the door, bringing his knees up and laying his head down on them. He curled his arms around himself, burying his face in the crook of his elbow. He listened to Tommy move around the bath, making whooshing sounds and diving under the surface. 

Wilbur thought he acted like a raccoon. It made him smile when the thoughts began creeping into his head. 

Where are they going to go from here? They had to get out of Philza’s territory, and he had to find a job. He had to find someplace safe and warm for Tommy to stay while he figured everything out, and was at this metaphorical job. He frowned, thinking of places that were hiring. 

He could always try a job that wasn't part of a big corporation. Like mowing lawns, or running errands. The jobs would be more time-consuming, but they could work. He could also try babysitting. He would be able to bring Tommy along, and the boy could stay warm and learn to socialize… yeah Wilbur liked that idea. 

He got pulled from his thoughts when he heard the water start draining, and he looked up to see Tommy getting out of the bath. He smiled at the boy, also standing and grabbing the red towel. He strode over to Tommy, who was hugging his sides, goosebumps rising along his skin. Wilbur wrapped the towel around his shoulders, helping him towel dry before bringing it up and ruffling his hair with the item. 

Tommy giggled, eyes squinted shut. Wilbur ran the towel over his head, lightly pressing down before wrapping the fluffy red material around his head, letting the tail fall over the blonde’s eyes, smiling when he giggled and pulled the tail of the towel out of his eyes. 

Wilbur helped Tommy get dressed in the oversized clothes, watching the way the fabric practically swallowed the pup. Wilbur smiled when Tommy grumbled and cursed, rolling the sleeves up. Even then he still had sweater paws and it made Wilbur laugh. 

“Don’t laugh at me, bitch!” Tommy said, eyes flaring with color. “I’m still the biggest man there ever was!” 

“Sure thing, Toms. Sure thing.” Wilbur said, fondness seeping into his voice like paint to a canvas. Wilbur’s eyes then glanced down to where the soaked bandage on his lower stomach and frowned. Excess water that the towel didn’t pick up was bleeding into the shirt and it made Wilbur cringe. He hummed, moving to the sink and opening the cabinets and drawers. 

He internally cheered when his eyes hit the first aid kit. 

“Go sit on the toilet, dearheart.” Wilbur said, laying the kit on the sink, flicking open the lid, and searching its contents. He grabbed some Neosporin, antiseptic wipes,  and some fresh bandages and gauze before walking back over to Tommy.  Tommy’s eyes widened at the materials, and he curled in on himself. 

“I’ll be gentle, Toms, I promise.” Wilbur said, voice soft. The boy just shook his head, eyes wide and fearful. 

“I know baby, I know. I promise, we just have to change it, and make sure it’s dry! That's all.” Wilbur added, eyes soft. Tommy just whimpered, scooting away till he hit the back of the toilet. Wilbur just frowned sadly, dripping to one of his knees. Tommy just tried to turn away, but was stopped when Wilbur placed both hands on the boy’s knees, pulling him forward. 

“Can you hold your shirt up? I promise I’ll be fast and gentle, ok?” Wilbur asked, waiting for Tommy to nod. Once he got it, and Tommy pulled his shirt up, Wilbur gently removed the soaked bandage, noticing it peeled away with what looked like slime stringing from the skin to the bandage. 

It was just a clear medicine but was still weird to see. As were the stitches. They stuck out of Tommy’s skin like little sark mountains, and it made Wilbur's heart clench at the sight. Wilbur grabbed an antiseptic wipe, very gently pressing it to his skin, being mindful of the dark black stitches in his skin. He just cleared around the area before letting it air dry. 

The stitches themselves looked good, and the skin they were holding together looked pink and raw, but overall healthy and clean. 

“Alright, I’m going to put some medicine on the bandage, and then put a bandage on your stitches. It might be cold, and it might sting, but it won’t hurt, ok?” Wilbur said, applying some Neosporin to the underside of the bandage. 

“Ok.” Tommy said, voice shaky and thin. Wilbur just hummed. 

“On the count of three, ok?” 

“Ok.” 

“One,” Wilbur said. “Two,” Tommy sucked in a breath. “Three.” Wilbur pressed the bandage to his skin, watching as it gently stuck to the skin. Tommy winces, goosebumps rising along his skin. But the bandage stuck, and Wilbur quickly grabbed the gauze, wrapping it around Tommy’s middle, letting it support the bandage, and keeping it firmly pressed down. 

“You did so good, sweetheart!” Wilbur praised, standing from the floor and sweeping Tommy up in his arms, spinning the pup around in the air before he slowly let him go on the ground. Tommy just giggled, the pain quickly forgotten about. 

“You were right! It didn’t hurt as bad!” Tommy said, eyes full of pride. It made Wilbur smile as he reached back down to the floor, picking up the medical supplies and storing them back in the first aid kit. He then put the kit back under the sink and cleaned up the water splotches on the floor when Tommy dropped his towel.

But soon Wilbur turned his head to the door, however, the expressions cleared from his face when he heard light footsteps sound right outside it. 

A light knock on the door alerted the two to a presence. 

“Pups? Everything going alright there?” Philza’s voice sounded from the other side. Wilbur responded with a  quick ‘yeah’. “Awesome! Just letting you two know that dinner will be ready soon!” 

Wilbur titled his head, thinking back to if they had lunch… they didn’t, but breakfast was pretty late… and yeah, that makes sense. He turns to Tommy seeing his eyes dilated. His skin was flush with color for once, and he looked clean! 

“You can go and eat dinner, Toms.” Wilbur said, bringing a hand up to caress his cheek. The pup beamed, wobbling to the door. Wilbur reached up and unlocked both locks, cracking the door to meet Philza’s eyes. They were a soft blue in the dimming light, and it made Wilbur want to feel safe. 

“Tommy’s done with his bath, so he’ll be down for dinner. I’ll come down as soon as I’m finished.” Wilbur says. “I just redid his bandage, so don’t worry about that.” Phil just nods, a small smile on his face, his eyes crinkling around the edges. Wilbur lowers his voice before adding. 

“Keep Technoblade away from him, Philza.” 

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Wilbur had stripped his clothes and turned on the water, letting it run into the tub. He left the plug to the side, grabbing another hand towel before stepping into the shallow warm water. He let the towel soak up some water before he ran his legs under the steady stream, watching as the dirt and blood came flaking off and swirled down the drain. 

He then brought the towel to his skin, rubbing it along the dirt and grime till he could start to see his skin again. He had almost forgotten what it looked like, with all the dirt, mud and blood stuck to it. He happily scrubbed away at his body, removing most of the splotches of shit before he plugged the tub. He felt the water slowly rise around before it was up to his mid-chest. He turned off the water, sliding down the back of the tub till the water rested comfortably around his shoulders. 

He sighed, the warmth seeping into his bones in a way no blanket could ever hope to accomplish. And then the thoughts started back up. The bad , the good , the plans…

Are you even a good enough brother to Tommy? Look at him here? He’s fucking happy, Wilbur Soot. Happy. 

If I babysit, I can make sure Tommy stays safe, and keep him protected from the cold. 

I’m doing all I can right now. 

Do better. 

Tommy could have food if I babysat as well, as well as make some friends. Friends would be good for him. 

I should teach Tommy to read, in case babysitting falls through, and he gets bored. 

You're a bad older brother. Letting him get hurt like that. What older brother lets their younger get stabbed?!

If all else fails, I know drugs will make good money, I’ll just have to keep Toms out of them.

He’s hurt because of you! 

He got help because of you!

He wishes he could stay to get away from you.

He doesn't love you. 

He hates you.

He loves me! 

He wishes you were the one that-

Wilbur slipped under the water, hands clamping over his ears as he shook his head. He gasped, attempting to scream, bubbles falling from his mouth, water flooding in, making him choke. The thoughts had silenced, and Wilbur shot up from the water, coughing and spitting up the water. The water around him was a murky clear color, like foggy plastic. 

Water droplets slipped down his face, running down his chin before dripping into the water. His hair was matted with who knows what and was dripping a muddy brown color. If anyone were to look, it would look like hair dye. 

Wilbur sucked in a breath, sharp and burning as it filled his lungs. He ignored the burning feeling, hands searching along the tub’s edge till his hand clutched a smooth bottle of shampoo. He poured a generous amount on his hand before dropping the bottle into the water. He brought his hands up to his hair, letting the shampoo slide into his brown curls. 

Then he started to rub it in, using his nails to scratch his scalp. 

Hard. 

The small flares of pain felt- good. In a sense. It helped uplift some of the more stubborn pieces of mud and dandruff, but it also helped silence the thoughts. Keep them away. It helped keep his head clear. 

The shampoo was bubbling in his hair, the suds working through the dirt and tangles, slowly moisturizing his scalp and hair, bringing back the color one wash at a time. 

He pulled his hands away, getting ready to rinse them in the water when he noticed the many strands of dark brown hair wrapped around his fingers. The hair must've been dead since he didn’t feel it, but it was still weird, in a sense. Wilbur didn’t remember the last time he pulled this much hair from his head. 

He rinsed his hands in the water, watching as the brown lines of hair vanished under the foam. He then leaned back, holding his breath as the water rushed over his nose. He closed his eyes, the dark void swirling behind his eyelids as he shook his head before bringing his hands through the water to scrub away the lasting suds. 

He slowly resurfaced enough so he could breathe, nose and lips just poking through to the surface. His hands rubbed through his curls, slowly pulling out detangling his hair as he went. As soon as the suds were gone he sat back up, the warm water cascading down his back like a waterfall. 

The water had turned a dark muddy brown. It made Wilbur flinch, and he reached under the water to pull the plug, watching as it swirled around the drain till it formed a tornado. He watched as the water level slowly decreased. It left a thin ring of dirt and mud. Wilbur felt heat rise to his cheeks. 

How dirty are you? 

It’s fine, I’m fixing it.

Wilbur turned the water back on, putting his head under it. It splashed around him, and Wilbur felt the mud and soap, and blood and everything else slowly sludge down his neck and shoulders. He forced the sobs back. He didn’t need to be crying. It was just a line of fucking dirt! 

He watched as the blackish color of his hair began to fade, replaced with a warm chocolate brown. He grabbed more shampoo. 

He ended up washing his hair with shampoo four times, waiting for the water to run clear before he closed the bottle of shampoo and left it outside the tub. It was noticeably lighter, and Wilbur wouldn’t be too surprised if it was almost empty. But his hair was a nice shade of warm brown. A brown that Tommy would say looked like hot chocolate or dirt after it rains. 

Wilbur smiles at the thought, grabbing the conditioner bottle and placing it at the edge. The water was filling up again, clear and clean. It was such a change compared to the tea-like color at Dream’s place. 

It was nice, and it brought tears to his eyes that he fought off. He couldn’t cry. He doesn't deserve to cry. He doesn't deserve to think about what Tommy could have if they stayed. He doesn't deserve to think about how happy Tommy looks here. 

He chases the thoughts away, dunking his head under the water again, wetting his hair. He grabbed the bottler of conditioner, popping open the cap and squeezing some onto his hand. He kept a steady pressure, watching as more and more of the chalky white substance came spilling out. It covered his hand before he let the bottle go, setting it down on the edge. 

He stared down at the gooey substance before applying it to his hair, deciding to gently scratch at his scalp. His blunt nails dragging over debris, scabs, and dandruff. He could feel it under his nails but did his best to ignore the feeling as he scrubbed. 

A slight sting would alert him to a new scab he picked, but he didn’t really mind. The thoughts had stayed silent, leaving his mind in an empty bliss. He massaged the conditioner into his hair, feeling the wiry and dry hair texture slowly fade into something soft. 

He couldn’t tell how long he sat there, massaging his scalp. He rinsed his hands in the water periodically before getting some more conditioner to rub into his hair. The feeling of the smooth cream soothed him for some reason. Perhaps it was because he now had that luxury. He could use as much or as little as he wanted. He could soak for as long as he wanted. He could scrub his skin raw to get the grime off. 

Except he couldn’t. 

Tommy was downstairs. He was downstairs with Philza and Technoblade. Two very powerful werewolves, who were dangerous but kind.  Tommy was downstairs, injured and unprotected. He could feel himself slip, he knew what was happening but he couldn’t stop it. 

The wood is cold. Everything in this house is cold. There is no heating in the attic. There is no heating in the basement. But there are screams and cries coming from the basement. There is muffled yelling, and pleas. 

Wilbur fights the tears in his eyes as he fights against the chains. The metal is tight against his wrist. The metal is cold. 

A loud ear-splitting scream sounds through the house. 

Cold.

Cold. 

Running? The woods! He’s bleeding. 

Cold. 

Cold. 

Wilbur dunks his head under the water, nails scratching harshly against his head. He knows he drew blood somewhere, he can feel the sharp pain along his scalp, but he doesn't care. He scrubs the conditioner away, his hair feeling lighter, clearer, and softer. That doesn’t matter! 

It doesn’t matter! 

He can feel his chest constricting, he can feel his blood pressure rise, his body suddenly feeling too tight, and too big. His body feels heavy, like a weight tied to a rope, slowly dragging it down while someone else tries to pull it up. He shoots up from the water, gasping a desperate breath of air. His chest is heaving, lungs screaming, and his heart racing. His eyes are unfocused, and he forces himself to take a long slow breath, fighting down the panic as he drapes himself over the side of the tub, the cold porcelain shocking his body gently. 

He shudders, releasing the breath in a quick exhale. He takes another breath, this one slower and he begins counting. His hair drips water onto the floor, creating a small, but growing puddle. 

One… two… three. He holds it, feeling the panic and tension fill his body, slowly climbing up his throat before he forces the breath out. He can feel himself become lighter each time he sucks in another breath and forces it out. His skin starts to fit his body again, and his chest doesn't feel like it’s trying to kill him.

Wilbur takes a few more shuddering breaths, water lapping gently at his skin. Small pieces of dirt and leaves floated around in the water, along with some scabs and dandruff but Wilbur’s mind was racing too fast for him to care. He sat there for a few minutes longer, his hair now somewhat dry (it wasn’t adding to the small puddle on the ground anymore)  before pulling the plug, letting the water drain around him before he stood and stepped out of the bath. 

Warm water droplets ran down his body, racing to the floor while he grabbed a towel. He patted his body down, making sure he was dry before dressing himself in the clothes and fuck. 

These clothes had to be the most comfortable thing he’s ever worn. They were soft and they gently rubbed at his skin in the best ways possible. He grabbed the clothing with his hand bringing it up to his nose to smell. 

It smelt like pine trees with a dash of sea salt… it smelt like warmth and safety. 

He pushed the thoughts away, dropping the shirt and unlocking the door. He looked down the hall, seeing it empty before leaving. As he got closer to the stairs he heard something. 

Giggles. True honest to Gods Tommy giggles.

He walked faster, eyes wide as he zipped down the stairs, eyes landing on the living room. 

There, giggling, was Tommy. 

There sitting right behind him was Technoblade, his hands in Tommy's hair braiding small golden beads into the detangled hair. Wilbur felt his blood freeze, his body going rigid. He must have let out a noise because Technoblades head turned to look. 

Their eyes locked together, Wilbur palling as the man raised an eyebrow. Phil came out of the kitchen, eyes following Technoblade gaze and freezing when they landed on Wilbur. Tommy had sensed the change, shrinking in on himself as he looked around the room, finding Wilbur standing on the stairs. 

“Get the hell away from my brother.”

Chapter Text

The room was frozen with what felt like static energy. Neither Philza nor Technoblade moved, and Tommy sat looking between the three. His skin had paled, eyes wide as he shuffled away from Technoblade. The werewolf let him go, hands frozen.

Tommy rushed to Wilbur, latching onto his leg. Wilbur stepped in front of Tommy, eyes glaring daggers into Philza. Said man just stood, eyes moving from Technoblade to Wilbur. He was trying to come up with something. His face was twisted, and Wilbur could see the cogs turning in his head. 

“I told you,” Wilbur snarled, metaphorical hackles raised. “I told you to keep Technoblade away from him!” He spat out Techno’s name like it was poison like it burned him. Phil just stood, silent. “I- I told you, Philza!” He could feel the desperation filling his tone, feel the fear and hurt filling his bones. 

I trusted you. He wanted to say. He didn’t, but he knew it was written on his face because Philza took a step back, a frown on his lips and eyes down. Technoblade’s eyes narrowed at the two pups, and Wilbur pushed Tommy further behind him, and back into the hallway. 

Technoblade took the moment to speak up, his gravelly and monotonous voice rolling into the silence like a bag of stone on ice. 

“He didn’t tell me anything.” His hands rose in mock surrender, palms facing outwards, fingers splayed. Wilbur knew just how fast those hands could grab and hurt. 

“Shut up.” Wilbur snarled, words rushing from his mouth faster than he could think. He froze when he heard them, and he shrunk in on himself, head twisting to the side, exposing his neck, but at the same time trying to retreat into his neck. It was the only thing his body could do that said safe, safe, be good and submit, he won’t hurt if you’re good. 

Technoblade bit back an annoyed huff, but to Wilbur, it sounded like a growl. It caused Tommy to whimper behind him, and he moved him further back. Phil sighed, looking to Techno before nodding. 

The older wolf stood slowly from the couch and Wilbur flinched, pushing Tommy behind him and down the hall. The pup was close to sobbing but chewed his cheeks to stay silent, shuffling down the hallway away from Wilbur. 

The silence was deafening. Phil stood on one side of the room, his the pups on the other. Neither spoke for what must have been only minutes but felt like years.

“Mate…” Phil began. 

“Don’t.” Wilbur whispered, tears pricking at the corner of his eyes. He chased them away, ignoring the way his heart rate was picking up. Ignoring the way he felt betrayed . 

He didn’t get to feel betrayed. He didn’t get to feel disappointed. He knew it was coming. He got his own hopes up. He felt his heart twist, ignoring the clawing feeling in his throat. He didn’t get to feel like this.

Tommy was shaking next to him, and Wilbur knew if he was a wolf right now, his tail would be tucked to his stomach, and his ears would be flat. 

Wilbur stood still, eyes locking onto the floor. 

Oh, fantastic! 

You fucked up, again! 

Now Tommy gets to watch you get beat? 

What a good brother you are. 

Tommy’s going to be terrified again. 

He’s not safe. 

Never safe. 

Because of you! 

Technoblade had walked into the kitchen, leaving Phil standing in the doorway as the man walked down the hallway into the sunroom. Wilbur stood where he was, not daring to look up. He knew Tommy had crept back up, the pup’s arms wrapped tightly around Wil's legs. 

“Easy, Wilbur. Take a deep breath, mate.” Wilbur wanted to snarl at the words. How dare this man try and give him advice after what he just pulled. After he ignored Wilbur’s only request?! 

But he knew he was right. He couldn’t protect Tommy like this. He sucked in a sharp breath, eyes glaring at a spot of dust on the floor. He slowly evened out his breathing, herding Tommy closer to himself. 

“I’m sorry, Wilbur,” Philza whispered. 

“No, you’re not.” Wilbur snapped back and instantly cringed in on himself. He wasn’t supposed to snap at adults. Much less older werewolves. Memories of being pinned and held down flooded his mind, and he shook his head to clear the thoughts. Still, the phantom pricks of teeth holding his neck flared up along his skin. 

Philza was silent, but his eyes spoke of… hurt? No! Philza didn’t get to hurt. Just as Wilbur wasn’t allowed to have hopes, to have- 

Phil was not allowed to be hurt over something he did! It wouldn’t be fair that way. But nothing adults did was fair. They were lying, dirty assholes who wanted nothing more than to gain and gain. 

Philza and Technoblade were no different. 

They were no different! 

If he told himself this enough times… maybe he’d believe it. 

Philza took a step back. Then another. And soon he was gone, fleeing into the hallway that led to the sunroom. Wilbur shook, tears filling his eyes. He didn’t let any fall, instead turning around and picking Tommy up, a hand moving up to cradle the back of his head. The pup just shoved his head into Wilbur's neck, sniffles and tears falling from the boy. 

When the first sob rang out, the comforting atmosphere of the room had cracked, like a pane of spiderwebbing class.

“It’s going to be ok, sweetheart! We’ll be ok.” Wilbur tried to keep his voice happy. He knew he failed when even he could hear the waiver of his tone.

“Are we going to leave?” Tommy choked out, head still resting in the crook of Wilbur’s neck. Wilbur could only nod, a frown on his face as he ran his hand up and down the pup’s back. 

Wilbur could count the notches of his spine, and it made him want to whine, want to roll over and show his belly, to beg for forgiveness from Technoblade. Beg to stay so Tommy could eat, and sleep somewhere warm. He would take any punishment if it meant Tommy would be healthy. 

“But we’re going to be ok, Toms. I promise I’m not going to let anything bad happen to you again, ok?” Tommy nodded, pushing his head harder into Wilbur’s shoulder. 

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Technoblade and Philza had left somewhere upstairs, probably to their room. The sun had long since set, in its place the moon. The moon with pale colors and sorrow-filled songs. The moon should be a blessing to see, but to Wilbur, it was a curse. It was a reminder that they would be cold tonight. 

That they would be once again in danger. They’d be cold, and hungry. Tommy would be scared, and Wilbur would be too but he has to be brave. He has to protect Tommy. He has to make up for his failures. 

A logical part of his brain is begging for him to stay, to talk through what happened. 

It was drowned out by fear and anger.

Tommy was sitting, eyes dull and small. He wore a frown, and his hair had been messed up of perfect braids. Wilbur stored the golden clips in his pocket. (Who the hell even uses golden clips?) They felt heavy, even if they only weighed a few ounces. 

He would shoulder it till they could sell them. At least then they would have some pocket money. 

“Toms, baby it’s time to go.” Wilbur whispered. They had fashioned a couple of bags out of blankets. Wilbur’s held all of the food he had stolen, and Tommy’s would hold some blankets. Wilbur had a feeling at some point they would lose the blankets. 

“Ok.” Tommy’s voice was even softer, broken almost. It cracked and shattered, revealing a deep sorrow and disappointment. Wilbur turned away to school his face from ‘almost tears’ to ‘comforting brother’. 

“I’m so sorry, baby.” He said, eyes soft and warm. Or well, as warm as they could be. “At least we got dinner, and have some blankets to keep us warm, right?” Wilbur tired. 

Dinner was intense. Wilbur didn’t touch his food, and Tommy was safely hidden in the blankets on the couch. Philza tried to make small talk, tried to talk to Wilbur, get him to eat. He even loaded his plate with more food than usual. Wilbur wasn’t going to eat any of it. At least not when Technoblade and Philza were there. Phil tried everything he could to get the boy to eat, offering desert after desert, reward after reward. Nothing worked.

Wilbur still sat in silence, body shaking as he awaited the first strike. Now would be a perfect time! He was alone, Tommy was away. There was nothing stopping Technoblade from reaching over the table and hurting him. 

He had every chance to stand up, snarl, and take away the plate of food. To degrade and beat him, turn his skin purple and blue. Take his fragile bones and snap them. He was a fourteen-year-old kid. He had no right to talk to an adult that way.  

Except he didn’t. He had half a mind to not look up from the plate of food. Almost like he was guilty. 

As he should be, Wilbur snarled to himself, but he kept himself looking down as well. Phil gave up after a few minutes of relentless silence and told Wilbur he was sorry. Wilbur didn’t believe it for a second. Adult lie. That’s all they know how to do. 

It didn’t take long for them both to stand and put their dishes in the sink. After Phil and Technoblade left. The sound of their footsteps echoing in the hallways. Wilbur didn’t move from his seat till he heard the door to the sunroom open and close, a nice sounding click singing through the halls. 

Philza had left the food on the countertop, and Wilbur eyes it quietly. He decided to make a plate for himself and give the other to Tommy. He then went back into the kitchen, raiding the pantry of non-perishables. Cans of food, crackers, and fruit bars. Anything that would be light, and easy to carry in a blanket-sac. 

That lead them to now, Wilbur carefully tying a make-shift bag around Tommy. The pup was still, almost lifeless as Wilbur finished the knot. They then silently moved through the house, feet light as Wilbur opened the door, ushering Tommy out. 

The cold air nipped at the pups’ skin and Wil saw Tommy shiver. Wilbur felt a sharp pang run through his body at the sight, and he did his best to ignore it. (He knew it would float around his head when they started moving when he would lay down and rest. He knew the thoughts would be back, and he knew he would feel like shit. He walked down the steps anyways.) 

He didn’t risk closing the door. 

As soon as his feet hit the cold earth, he shifted. His bones moved, and his flesh grew, along with silky fur. It was strange having soft and smooth fur, but Wilbur couldn’t focus on it too much. It was just a few seconds, but his bones had moved perfectly, and in his place sat a brown wolf. Umber eyes reflected the little amounts of white light from the moon. Wilbur wanted to look up at it, take in the moon in all her sorrow. He didn’t, instead helping Tommy onto his back. 

The smaller boy rested easily on his shoulders, and he leaned forward so he could rest his head on Wilbur’s neck. The soft brown fur tickled his nose, and it made the pup want to giggle. On any other night, he might have. He might have ran his fingers through his fur and made patterns, talk to Wilbur about everything and nothing. But tonight, with the bitter cold and the off colored moon… the pup didn’t think he had it in him to talk. 

Wilbur reached down to the sack on the ground, the one Tommy had placed ever so gently down and picked it up with his maw. He then rolled his shoulders to make sure Tommy was comfortable and safe, and with one last huff of air, started to walk into the woods. He did his best to stay quiet, avoiding leaves and twigs, as well as trying to keep the cans from knocking into each other. 

The woods swallowed them, the darkness leaving no trail of where they had been seconds before. Wilbur’s paws were already getting cold, and he knew by the end of their escape he would be shaking and aching all over. It will be worth it, he told himself. It’d be better in the long run.   

Tommy was humming some tune. It sounded like Row Row Row your boat, but solemn and low. Wilbur didn’t know how a six-year-old could make a song sound so sad, but he did. He ignored the small amount of guilt curling around his heart. He had to focus on getting his brother to safety first. Then he could focus on how much a horrible brother he was. 

Half an hour had passed before Wilbur picked up a low lope, moving through the trees faster. The cans beat lightly against each other, but the blanket had helped muffle the sounds of clanging metal. The further he went, the thicker the trees got, the harder it was to move through them. And with this, the harder it was to keep the food steady. Tommy had resulted to fisting his hands into Wilbur’s fur, holding on tightly as the wolf climbed roots, and hopped over small streams. He ducked under game trails, following the paths of deers and rabbits. The woods smelled earthy, but like home. 

Wilbur debated on just living out as wolves. Tommy could shift as soon as his injury was healed anyways and then Wilbur could hunt for him. They’d find their own small bit of land and make their home there. They could dig out a den, and use the blankets for nesting material! 

He shook his head. Tommy needed friends. He needed to see the world could be kind. 

An hour later the threes had thinned. They had walked through a flower field, and the scents of pollen tickled Wilbur's nose. His paws were freezing, and the fur on his legs was wet with water. They had walked through at least a dozen streams and a few ponds. Wilbur was breathing heavily, his jaw aching. Tommy was silent, but he moved periodically, the only hint he was even still awake. Wilbur had slowed to a walk again, and he had to force himself to take step after step even though he wanted to collapse. 

He hadn’t found a safe enough place yet. Everywhere that could have been a possible resting place was far too close to the house for Wilbur’s liking. 

His eyes caught sight of a small edge up ahead and he tried to walk faster to it. The moon was only half full, and her light was slowly coming to be far and few. He made it to the ditch and couldn’t stop the wolfish grin at the sight below him. 

Long grass covered the ground and was pushed flat, most likely by a deer laying. The drop was only a few feet but that meant the edge would shelter them from any wind or eyes of the forest. It was a win-win! 

Wilbur stopped the bag of food onto the grass, cringing at the noise. It startled Tommy who shot up, eye wide and hands gripping his neck’s fur tighter. Wilbur then jumped down onto the nest, landing gently and laying down. Tommy clambered off his back, untying the blanket bag from his back and laying them on the ground. Wilbur smiled, moving the food as close to the wall as he could get. 

Tommy had moved some of the blankets around to form the walls of a small nest. Wilbur moved the middle laying down on the soft fabrics. He laid straight, waiting for Tommy to curl into his side before grabbing the top of the blanket walls and pulling. The blankets fell over the two pups, and it wasn’t long before Tommy’s breaths feel even, his eyes fluttering shut. Sleep had taken him swiftly, and Wilbur’s tail thumped against the ground at the idea of being safe enough that Tommy would fall asleep. 

(He ignored the back of his mind that said Tommy would never find him unsafe, that he was his brother.) 

Haha, what a great brother you are. 

How cold is it tonight, Wilbur? 

Yo think you’re keeping him safe? 

He should be with his own kind! 

At least they could provide for him! Keep him warm every night, keep him fed! 

Technoblade and Philza only ever hurt you. Not Tommy. 

You're the issue! You’re broken. 

You don’t belong. 

You could never love Tommy the way they could. 

Wilbur wanted to snarl at his thoughts. But he couldn’t. You can’t chastise the truth. He curled tighter around Tommy, his tail laying over the boy’s side. He grabbed a blanket with his teeth, pulling it tighter even if the aching muscles protested in agony. 

He kept his paws under him, away from the pup. 

If he could keep Tommy comfortable… then maybe the pup could love him still. Could think he was good enough to stay pack with. 

Wilbur had seen it before! Their dad snarling at their mother, teeth bared and sharp. Wilbur had watched as his mother cried and begged, but was only met with a cold slap and shouted words. 

Their dad had left because she was sick. Because she was tired and hurt. He had left a mother to defend two pups. Wilbur had ended up catering to Tommy and trying to heal his mother. He tried all the soups he could find and all the medicine in the cabinet. Nothing had worked. Nothing had helped their momma. 

She ended up giving the pups’ to an orphanage. Wilbur always wondered what happened to her. He was only seven when they got moved to the scary building. He was eight when Dream ‘adopted’ them. He shook the thoughts from his head. 

If he could keep providing for Tommy, keep proving that he was good enough then he didn’t have to wonder if Tommy was going to leave. If Tommy was going to go back to Philza and Technoblade. He wouldn’t have to worry about Technoblade hurting Tommy, or Philza breaking trust. He could keep Tommy all to himself. 

The moon had sunk behind the cliff, casting their little sleeping area into darkness. It didn’t make Wilbur uncomfortable. The only monster out there was him. 

Wilbur looked up, umber eyes catching the stars. They whispered and flashed like bits of a puzzle meant only for him. It was like they could whisper stories, trying to lull him to sleep. Maybe that’s how Tommy falls asleep so easily. He listens to the songs of the stars. 

Wilbur used to like writing. He used to love poetry. He wondered if he still had it in him. He wondered if he could still describe emotions with words, or put feelings in rhymes. It had been so many years since he last had. 

But he could try. And who knows, maybe later he could recite it back to Tommy, lull him to sleep with his own words and tales instead of the stars. 

I wish I knew what you would say, 

What you sing to and fray,

I wonder what it’d be like, 

To go back and hear your songs.

I always wondered what it could be, 

To feel loved and safe.

In your embrace, I feel no need to wonder

You’re always here to soothe my hunger,

You listen and hold all the same,

Oh what a shame 

You should be held so gently, 

Caressed with warmth, 

You should be held with life,

And dance with love

You shouldn’t have to worry now, 

But it’ll be ok, I’ve got you now. 

Wilbur knew he forced a few of the lines, and the poem didn’t run as smoothly as he wanted. But that was ok. He had all the time to perfect it. Besides, Tommy wasn’t going to heart it for a while, at least not until he really needed it. 

The pup mumbled in his sleep, snuggling closer to his fur. Wilbur felt small, cold hands grip tightly at his skin, and he forced the small yelp of pain away. Tommy was simply making sure he wasn’t leaving or gone. 

(He would never admit how warm that made him feel. Never admit just how much it made his heart swell with pride.) 

The wind was whistling, and the crickets had started chirping. An owl had screeched a few miles away, causing a dusty colored ear to twitch back to listen. The smells of the damp earth filled his nose, and he could feel the quick pitter-patters of mice feet running along the forest floor. Wilbur thought for a moment what it would be like to be a mouse. To live in someone's wall and steal cheese. Perhaps in another life, he would have been a mouse. 

Would have stollen pointless items like clothespins and fuzz to make nests. He wondered if Tommy would be a mouse with him. He smiled at the thought, and he looked down at his paws. They were still slightly too large, as were his ears. He had yet to fully grow into his body. He could still be scruffed by other werewolves, he could still be imprinted on again. He could be loved. 

He chased that thought away. He didn’t need to be loved. He just needed to love. Yeah! All he had to do was give his love. Make sure Tommy felt loved. That would do. Tommy just needed to be loved. And then Wilbur could find his own love. 

Phil and Techno could love you. 

No, Wilbur growled. They were liars. Adults are just liars. He shook his head, forcing the image of Techno curling around him, keeping him warm and safe while Philza taught Tommy to read. It was Wilbur’s job to teach Tommy these things. He had to teach Tommy to read, to draw, and imagine. He had to make sure his little brother had friends. 

As for Technoblade… Wilbur didn’t want anything to do with being cuddled by him. He wanted nothing to do with the two wolves. He just wanted to make sure Tommy was ok and he would make sure Tommy was ok! He’d just do it on his own. Without Dream. Without their father. 

And Without Technoblade and Philza. 

He could do it on his own! He always really had! Who had time to be a kid when you had to make sure your family, your pack was ok? Not Wilbur! And he was happy .

But you’re not. 

You're scared. 

Please just go back. 

Yeah! Go back like the coward you are! 

You don’t deserve Tommy. 

He deserves something better than you. 

He deserves a warm plate of food and warm blankets. 

All you can do is just give him cold things. 

You’re going to ruin him.

Wilbur snarled quietly, his eyes narrowed and brows furrowed. His lips were pulled up, revealing small sharp canines. He silenced himself when he felt Tommy clutch harder to his side, small blunt nails digging into his flesh, no doubt leaving small crescent shapes there.

He shook his head once more, doing his best to silence his thoughts. It would do him no good to stay awake. He had to travel tomorrow, and they had to leave at the break of dawn in order to keep their escape an escape. 

With that thought in mind, the pup let his eyes flutter closed. He let sleep take him, and he let his mind fall blank. 

If he stayed awake a little longer, he would have heard the fond huff and the snap of a twig.

Chapter Text

“Phil.” A whisper sounded through the empty house. Phil grinned with one too many teeth to be friendly, rolling from his side to his back, eyes sharp. Pale moonlight filtered across the ceiling casting dancing lines and singing shadows across the room. 

“Techno.” Phil responded, slowly sitting up. The blankets rustled and fell to the floor as the man rubbed at his eyes, clearing away any drowsiness. He felt the nest shift and footsteps walk towards the window. 

“They went east.” Techno says, his voice gruff and rumbly. His eyes were sharp, pupils dilated like saucers. “Phil, they went east.” 

“I heard ya, mate.” Phil hummed standing from the nest. Even if neither were sleeping, it was still always a challenge to leave something so warm. “What time is it? We need to get going soon.” 

“It’s a little over one, they left about an hour ago.” Techno supplied stepping away from the window and to the door. Technoblade was dressed in a dark gray shirt with loose pants. His hair was tied up in a bun, but his eyes gleamed. 

“Alright then.” Phil said, throwing on a pair of pants and pulling a hoodie over his chest. “Let’s go get our pups then, shall we?” Techno grinned, sharp canines on display as he walked out of the nest room. Phil followed closely behind, slipping a pair of hiking boots. He laced them up tight before looking at the front door.

“They didn’t shut the door?” Phil asked, closing it behind him and walking down the wooden steps. The wood clicked under his feet and he grinned at the sound. As soon as he made it to the soft but cold ground he looked up.

“Think they wanted to be as quiet as possible.” Techno answered, rolling shoulders before looking up at the sky. The moon had begun to drift across the sky, getting closer and closer to the horizon. Techno huffed before a sharp snap sounded. Phil looked down from the moon smiling at the sight of the dark red wolf standing before him. 

His copper eyes locked onto Phil’s lakey blue, and he huffed fondly. Phil chuckled before shifting himself. He didn’t feel his bones move, or skin grow. He wondered if Wilbur still did. Wondered if anyone had taught him how to shift properly. To hunt, and howl. A wolfish grin spread across his muzzle as he thought of all the things he could teach them. Of all the things they could do. 

A quiet bark shocked him from his thoughts and he shook his head, moving to bump his shoulder against Techno. The other wolf just bowed his head, nuzzling at Phil’s chin before giving a greeting lick.

Are you ready to go? Phil just huffed brushing his cheek against Techno. The red wolf picked up a trot and headed east. 

Phil followed, tail hanging limp as he followed his best friend. Techno’s ears were up tail even with his back. His head was held high and he moved with confidence, practiced steps over the terrain. His muscles rippled with every step like ocean waves on the beach. His scars, while well hidden to the naked eye, stood out to Phil. Their pale and dull colors were like little mountains on the valley of skin, hidden by the forest of red and copper fur. 

And Gods does Phil remember the stories those scars tell. His own skin is riddled with them, some from swords, others from teeth and claws. Small fleshy mountains among the forests of fur and valleys of skin. 

He remembers the times he and Technoblade had spent fighting . But not the world, rather each other. He remembers the glass-like words that were spat back and forth, each cutting a little deeper, each cutting a little harder. He remembers the scars they would forever be cursed with, the reminders of their young foolishness. Of naivety. 

He looks forward, watching the way the forest quieted around them. It was always strange, hearing the silence in the forest. In the past, it may have made his instinct crawl, but now it just made him grin, teeth flashing in the night.  

His eyes hit the floor, his nose searching for a scent. He picked up the forest ground, the night air, and oak trees. He picked up the smell of some new kits from the local bunnies, and of the small nightingales that nested in the trees. The gentle sound of water rushing over stones alerted the two wolves that they were near a river.

But the smell that made him croon, and his instinct flare to life, was the smell of two pups. Their scents were unique to the forest, tinged with the smell of pine and sea salt. A part of him whispered at the unfairness of this, of the betrayal of hunting down two living beings that they purposefully made smell different than the surrounding location. 

He silenced the thought quickly, instead of focusing on how amazing it would be to have the pups back home and in a nest. To have them well fed and cared for. Loved. It made something inside both wolves to preen. 

Technoblade traveled silently, lowering his head to the ground to follow the scent more clearly. They were coming up on some small streams and Phil could only guess that Techno wanted to make sure they stayed on the trail. 

Neither of them knew how far they would have traveled, but if they had to guess, they wouldn't make it far. They would most likely find a ‘safe’ place to bunker down for the night and then begin moving once more in the early morning light. Little did the pups know that they were ready. 

Little did they know that they were never going to get far. That Technoblade was a commanding war general and had been for hundreds of years. That he had a title of the Blood God, and Phil an Angel of Death. They were never going to make it farther than they wanted. 

They would never make it to someplace that they didn’t want them to. They would never be somewhere where they could be in danger.

They would never have to know of course. Not unless they asked, or found out on their own. But that was beside the point! Everything was beside the point! All that mattered was getting the two pups back home, getting them bundled up and warm. 

Techno huffed, smelling around the creek before resigning to his fate and stepping carefully into it. Phil would have huffed fondly in another situation. He decided against it, stepping into the cold water. He couldn’t help the way he picked up his feet so that they stayed out of the chilling liquid. 

They made it to the other side, Techno already back on the scent. Phil moved a little quicker. The faster they got to their pups, the sooner they could go and rest, warm and safe. Phil knew Wilbur didn’t feel safe. He knew something was wrong. The way he was so… protective of his brother gave him some hints. The fucking stab wound in Tommy’s side. 

Something happened from wherever they came from. And when Phil found out…

He grinned and stored the thoughts for another day. Techno had picked up a lope, paws landing silently against the cold ground. Phil followed suit, raising his head to the sky and scenting the air. There was nothing on the surface level so he turned back, offering a low bark. 

Technoblade sped up, tail curling in a forwards motion. His nose was still glued to the floor, taking in every new and old scent he could. At this rate, it wouldn’t be surprising if they came upon the pups in a few minutes. Phil’s mind thought back to the times' Techno and he traveled through the night before. 

From chasing after large prey during full moons, listening to their frantic heartbeats as they tried to escape the jaws of the wolves. From chasing after hunters, deadly teeth snapping, and toying with their fragile minds. Just traveling through the dark, searching for something. There were so many times when they traveled together like this. 

But the one that sticks out the most would have to be when they stalked through the snowy plains of the arctic, heads lowered and eyes shut tight. The wind howled around them, screaming and screeching scratchy toons. The snow had frozen to their fur and skin, their bodies wracked with shivers. 

But they had kept going, ignoring the numbness in their paws and the tips of their tails and ears. They forced themselves to continue, side by side. Phil couldn't feel his legs anymore, leaning on Technoblade. He wasn’t a beacon of warmth anymore, but he was still a pillar to lean against. 

They didn’t stop, and it wasn’t long till they saw it. 

The massive stone walls loomed ahead of them, the snow stacked up the sides. Phil had never felt so relieved to see something so bland. They picked up the pace after that, quickly finding the entrance and seizing it. 

The inside, while still cold, was nowhere near as frigid as the outside. Philza smiled to himself at the memory of sleeping for a week, curled up near the fire with blankets everywhere around them. He knew Technoblade liked that week too. 

They still would drag all the blankets down to the fireplace on colder nights when the snow was falling. Something about it… it always brought a form of nostalgia to the two. From when there were no issues besides what they were going to do that day, or to the time when they ruled the world… Phil couldn’t say. All he knew was the days they spent by the fire in a makeshift nest were always the best nights. 

Techno stopped, smelling around a spot before growling. He looked up from the ground looking at something before deciding it was worth his time and headed towards another creek. Phil followed, feet barely hitting the ground as Techno sped up, splashing through the creek. The water flew up, lightly coating Philza’s fur. 

He shook his head to get any of the droplets off, grateful that the chill hadn’t touched his skin. His paws didn’t quite get the same treatment, the biting cold sinking its fangs into the pads of his toes. 

He huffed in annoyance, watching with fond eyes as Techno growled to himself, shaking off his paws. He turned to look at Phil, copper eyes glittering. 

It was like he was saying, ‘why did they have to go at night?’

Phil could only huff as he reached Techno’s side, brushing his cheek against the bigger wolf’s neck. They continued forwards, paws crunching the grass and twigs beneath them. Techno had lowered his tail, his head still to the ground as he searched. 

Phil followed suit, nosing through the different scents till the scent of the sea and pine trees caught his nose. He took a long whiff, huffing proudly as he followed the smell. Techno was right next to him, tail wagging slightly beyond him. 

They were getting their pups. And they were getting them soon. Phil could already picture them curled up on the couch, blankets thrown over loosely as the pups tried to burrow closer to them, soft and even breaths rising from their chests. Phil could imagine teaching Wilbur to hunt, could imagine the pup’s proud grin and yelps when he caught his first hunt. 

He could imagine coming home to Technoblade reading to Tommy, giving him old greek names that many have forgotten about. He could imagine the proud smile Techno would give at the blood staining Wilbur’s fur and teeth, and Tommy’s bright smile. 

Fuck, Tommy would open up! He already was when it was just the three, slowly adding more and more to the conversation and letting Techno braid his hair. The kid wanted to trust so badly, but Phil knew he was scared. He knew Wilbur was scared too. 

He couldn’t wait to help them out of their shells, slowly bring their personalities out. He couldn’t wait to show them the love they deserved. 

Techno huffed, gently nipping at Phil’s side causing the old wolf to stop. Ahead of them lay a small ditch, and the smell was so strong. They had found them. Slowly, Phil crept around the side, eyes filling with affection at the sight of the two brothers curled up.

Chapter Text

Tommy didn’t know what woke him. He had no idea if it was because he was outside, or if he got too hot. Sometimes that happened… if he got too hot or cold he would wake up. It always made him slightly upset when it happened because he didn’t want to wake Wilbur up to help him go back to sleep, so most times he just stayed up, listening to his brother's breathing and counting his heartbeat.

But tonight he wasn't cold, or hot! He felt just right!  Was it sleeping under the stars? But… he had slept under the stars before and not woken up! In fact, he slept through the whole night! And Wilbur was there too! 

So was it that something caught his ear? The sound of the wind? The sound of small feet rushing across the forest ground? Or was it a twig snapping and a huff before the sound of bones shifting and feet crunching over leaves? Tommy slowly picked his head up from Wilbur’s side, looking over his back. All that he could see was dark grounds, and even darker trees shooting up from the ground. 

Until the sound of rocks and dirt hitting the ground near him made him snap to the left. He barely saw the plume of dust before he saw it. A dark figure shaded by the night, the moon too far away to cast her light. 

Tommy let out a warning growl, hoping to sound intimidating, even though he could feel himself shaking, his hands fisting into Wilbur’s fur. There was a huff that sounded… sad? Then the figure started approaching. 

Tommy felt himself lock up, the figure coming closer and closer. Their steps were quiet, but they had seemed to lock onto the mess of blankets in their little shelter. Tommy snarled, teeth flashing to the intruder. Wilbur didn’t move, breaths still even and deep. 

The figure didn’t stop, just raised their hands. 

“Tommy?” 

And-

Tommy knew that voice. He knew who that was. That was Phil . Phil should not be here. Tommy froze, mouth opening and closing as he tried to think of what to do. He should needs to wake Wilbur, but he couldn’t form words. It was as if there was glue shoved down his throat, sticking everything together. 

And to top it all off he was frozen in place. He couldn’t move! It was like he was dunked in cement, his limbs locked in place. 

Phil gently shushed the pup, lowering himself to a crouch, hands reaching out. Tommy was stuck. He couldn’t move! He felt tears prick at his eyes as he tried to move, tried to force his arms to jerk, a voice to spill from his lips. Nothing . 

“Easy, it’s okay. You’re okay, Tommy.” Phil’s voice was calm. Soothing. He gently grabbed under Tommy’s arms, pulling him up from Wilbur’s side. The pup whined, eyes wide as he was finally able to move. He wiggled and squirmed, eyes locking onto Wilbur’s form who just huffed slightly, curling tighter into a ball now that Tommy was gone. 

Tommy doesn't know why that hurt, but it did. He stopped wiggling, tears filling his eyes as Phil pulled him into a warm and strong chest. He could so easily hurt him as Dream had. Bend his fingers back till they crack and snap, bruise his skin with just his hold. He could easily hurt Wilbur too since he was asleep and helpless. 

Tommy whined again and began wiggling, trying to release Phil’s hold on him. The older wolf didn’t let go. If anything he held him closer, but no less tight. Just… closer. It made Tommy stop moving and sink into the hold. How long had it been… that someone had held him like this?

Yeah, Wilbur held him all the time, but his hugs weren’t like this! His hugs were great and amazing, and they were warm and they always made Tommy feel safe, but Phil’s hugs? It was like he was promising the entire universe for him. But… Wilbur had promised him the world too. He promised him everything he could ask for… and he does! He hasn't broken that promise yet… 

The sound of crunching grass made him twist his head, eyes locking onto a shadowy figure in the dark. Phil hummed, rubbing a hand up and down his back before speaking. “It’s okay, Tommy. It’s just Techno.” At those words, the pup tensed up. A low growl escaped his lips, and he renewed his thrashing. 

“Let me go!” He hissed, shifting and turning. “Let me go you fucker!” (He ignored the part of him that said Wilbur would be upset at his words.)Low growls and snarls fell from his lips like a leaky faucet. He was able to free an arm, and from there he started swinging. His claws were dull and weak, and they wouldn’t do lasting damage, but they would work. 

Phil flinched back when small black claws came too close to his eyes. He tried to readjust his grip, but Tommy wasn’t having it, and as soon as he could, got his other arm unlogged from his side. 

He grinned something feral, latching onto the arm holding him around his middle, he pulled as hard as he could, bringing it up to his teeth while bedding down. Phil was a second too late when he felt tiny sharp needle teeth stick into his arm. He yelped, grimacing at the unpleasant feeling of puppy teeth digging into his skin.

Tommy didn’t let go, hackles raised and growls still rising in his throat. They were high-pitched and scared, but he hoped that they got the message across. What he wasn’t ready for was a growl to admit from the chest he was held to. It was low and deep, and it sounded mean. It sounded like Dream did when he was upset at something. 

It made him stop, jaw locking and everything in him screaming, danger danger danger! Get away! Get away! He forced himself to let go of the skin between his teeth, pushing the arm down and away. It wasn’t moving, and if anything was pressing firmly against his mouth, prying it open. 

It was… well it was scary! Could you really blame him? He was having his mouth pried open by the same arm he was trying to attack just seconds earlier. It didn’t hurt or anything, it was just very uncomfortable having his jaw forcefully pried open. 

He couldn't help the terrified whimper that escaped him. 

“I know you’re scared, pup.” A firm voice started. “But you do not get to bite like that.” Tommy whined, tears pricking at his eyes. He could feel his body shaking, and he wanted nothing more than for Wilbur to wake up. The fact that he hadn't yet woken up was scary. 

Tommy wanted to cry, and he knew he was beginning to when he started to sniffle. Tears began to slip from his eyes, warm and salty as they traveled down his cheeks. 

Phil finally pulled his arm free and Tommy felt the first few sobs wrack through his body. Phil just cooed, setting his grip and holding the pup’s arm close to his body, trapped between their chests. He ran a hand up and down the boy’s back, grimacing when the pup began to beg not to be hurt. 

“ Dream please, I’ll be good. We’ll be good.” It was so quiet , and it made every instinct in Phil rise to the surface. He wanted to growl, track down this Dream person and make him pay. But the shaking pup in his arms was more important. 

“You’re okay, Tommy. I promise. I’m not gonna hurt you, baby. Never.” Phil said, voice back down to that soothing and gentle tone. It was like he was trying to soothe a wild animal. In some senses he was. Tommy just flinched, shoulders rising and head tilting to the side. 

This action alone made Phil pissed. The pup was submitting, but not fully. He was still trying to protect himself. Like he thinks that even if he’s handing himself over, he’s still going to be punished. He probably has. Phil thought with a sinking horror. 

He was probably beaten and kicked around for absolutely no reason. He was probably hurt and scared just for the joy of someone else. It made the hackles on Phil’s neck stand and he gently brought Tommy to rest in a more comfortable position. 

His arms were still huddled to his own chest, but Phil was now holding him like he would hold a baby, cradled between his arms. The pup didn’t calm, still whispering his pleas and baring his neck. Phil just gently hushed him, rocking on the balls of his feet as he searched for a small blanket to cover him with. 

No one was paying attention to Techno who at this point had traveled silently over to Wilbur’s sleeping form. The pup was still sleeping, eyes darting around under his eyelids lazily. Techno gently lowered himself to the ground, nudging Wilbur’s cheek with his snout. The pup just whined, curling into a tighter ball. 

Techno's eyes softened and he gently licked at Wilbur’s face. The pup didn’t react, just stayed in a ball, asleep. Phil just grinned from where was crouching with Tommy. He had found a nice soft blanket and had wrapped the boy in it. Tommy was calming, his sobs tapering off into just quiet sniffles. 

The blanket was warm , and it smelled like safety. It was like being held by the sun-warmed clouds, or at least what he thought sun-warmed clouds felt like. The boy smiled, nuzzling into the soft fabric. He felt arms move around him, and voices murmur above him. 

“We’ve got a name, Techno.” There was a soft growl and something being moved and shifted gently. Tommy heard an annoying whine from… somewhere. He couldn't figure out where the fuzzy feeling taking over his brain. 

“Be gentle, the poor guy is exhausted.” The voice was soft and gentle, and it forced the fuzzy thing to grow. Tommy felt his limbs tingle with warmth, and a soft sigh left his mouth. He turned over to try and cuddle closer to wherever this warmth was coming from. He heard a chuckle and a coo above him, but he didn’t care. 

The warmth was growing around him and he smiled. Honest to Gods smiled. Wilbur always said how much he loved his smile, and so he always tried to smile more often, even if he had to fake it to make Wilbur happy. 

He pushed those thoughts away, deciding to just focus on the hand that was placed securely over him, holding him to the source of the warmth. The best part was that there was even more warmth coming from the hand on his back so he wasn’t cold! 

And then… they started to move. A gentle sway in Phil’s steps and Tommy’s brain was gone. Lost in the smell of safe, safe, safe, and the warmth of home. 

He heard a small whimper from somewhere around him, and he tried to move away from the warmth, but the hand pressing into his back pushed him back to it. There were gentle words and reassurances that everything was fine and that he should go back to sleep. That everything would be okay and why he woke up again he would be in an even bigger nest with Wilbur close by too. 

Good. He thought. You’re not gonna take away Wilby again. 

He must've said it out loud, or something because they stopped. The gentle sway of the walking ceased, and it made him whine, trying to wiggle to show his distance. He could feel sleep pulling on his mind, begging him to slip back into her gentle hold. 

But why would he want to move to a cold hold when he has the sun holding him here? He shook his head to clear his thoughts, feeling Phil begin to move once more. It brought a happy rumble to his chest, no matter how high or off-pitched it was. 

He didn’t know how long they spent walking, but he did know that he soon fell back asleep, and when he did, the sun followed him. 

Chapter Text

He didn’t want to wake up. He didn’t want to open his eyes. Every muscle in his body ached, and he was tired. He just wanted to sleep . Everything was warm and fuzzy and his brain felt like mush. Sleep was still holding onto him, strong arms still wrapped tightly around him. 

It would be so easy to brush off this little spurt of consciousness. It would be so easy to shut off his mind and fall back asleep. It would be so easy to let the warmth and fuzziness take over, leaving behind just a shell. It would be so easy. 

He started to… his thoughts fading off, the warmth spreading. It was perfect. Peaceful. But there was something at his side. There was something rustling and moving, and there were echoey and distorted sounds, but they were there. Wilbur forced some of the fog to clear from his mind and focused on one of those distant sounds. He forced them to become clearer, cleaner. 

“Wilby…” It still echoed off the walls of his brain, but it was clear , and it was Tommy. “Wilby wake up, please.” Wilbur heard his thoughts erupt, his brain powering on all at once. It’s like starting up an old generator he realized, everything starting up at once. 

It was loud. 

He felt his muscles lock up, and his eyes flashed open. The light was bright, and it made him want to close them again. To go back to sleep. But he knew better. Tommy was close. Tommy was begging him to wake up. He needed to get up! 

He curled around Tommy, muzzle pressing into the boy’s cheek. He dragged his tongue along the flesh, searching for a wound that wasn’t there. He knew there was nothing that was going to be there. They had… they h-

What had they done? How did he know that Tommy wasn’t injured? 

They… They escaped Dream’s place, and got lost in the woods… there were the two older and bigger werewolves… 

Shit! Technoblade and Philza! He pressed his nose along the boy's ribs, sniffing along the clothing, searching for the scent of copper. He didn’t find anything, just pine, and the ocean. Thinking back to it, it was a weird combination of smells. Especially in a place where the trees were massive oaks and fresh water streams.  

They had escaped from Technoblade and Philza’s… and they were currently in the small dirt shelter thing. Wilbur forced his nose away from Tommy, eyes finally looking around. 

They weren’t in the dirt shelter. 

His breath hitched, and his body went rigid. There were bookshelves stacked with books along the walls. There was a massive world map pinned to an empty space. A clock ticked away by a wooden door, the time reading 12:43. There was a window, but it was covered by a dark blanket. Even then, Wilbur could see the lights of sunlight filtering in through the bottom gaps. 

The floor wasn’t a floor. It was just a sea of blankets, pillows, clothes, and fabrics. There were small pockets everywhere with shiny little trinkets and other pockets that he could the outline of books in. A table was shoved in the corner, two chairs pushed in under it. One chair had a cloak hanging over the back of it. 

He forced a breath out, eyes scanning the room once more. He took a big breath, taking in the scents around him. It smelled like old books, leather, and cinnamon. It smelt like ink and dust. It smelt lived in, if lived in had a smell. 

Tommy whined, tugging at Wilbur’s fur. The wolf turned, eyes locking onto Tommy. His face had tear tracks running down his cheeks, like he had been crying all night, or most of the morning. Fuck, what time even as it? 

“I’m sorry, Wilbur.” Tommy whispered, and buried his head in Wilbur’s coat. The wolf huffed, panic lighting in his chest. What was he sorry for? Tommy had nothing to be sorry for. He hadn’t done anything. He looked around once more, eyeing the clothes and pillows. He smelt the air once more and that’s when it hit him. 

They never escaped… did they? 

They never made it far enough away. They weren't just going to let them leave . Wilbur should have known. He should’ve known. Nothing good can be true . It’s always a tick, it’s always a lie, it’s always just a plot to further hurt them. 

He didn’t notice his breathing picking up, he didn’t notice his body start shaking. He didn’t notice the hand grabbing his side, the words begging him to stop. 

“Wilbur, please! You have to breathe, Wilbur please come back, please come back.” The voice sounded choked, and it stuttered through the words. Wilbur couldn’t focus on it, no matter how hard he tried. All he could focus on was the fear. 

He didn’t hear the door opening, but he saw the person enter. And it was none other than fucking Philza . The man who had lied, the man who tricked and betrayed what little trust Wilbur gave to him. He wanted to snarl, but all that came out was a whine, long and high pitched. 

“What the fuck did you do to him?!” A snarl resounded. It was a weak snarl, but Wilbur could only guess it was coming from Tommy. Tommy who still needed him. There was the sound of fabrics and pillows rustling, but Wilbur couldn’t focus. He didn’t know what was going on. Everything was too fast, or it was too slow. It wasn't making sense. 

And he couldn’t do anything about it. Not with the fog, not with the haze settling in. He could feel his heart hammering against his lungs, stuttering and stopping each breath he tried to force through. 

Nothing was working, everything was failing , he couldn’t get it under control. He felt a cry building in his throat, but even that felt stuck like his neck was being squeezed from the inside out. All that came out was a choked-off whimper. 

It was too much. It was too much!

Tommy snarled, eyes narrowed and teeth bared. Wilbur was doing that thing again. Where his breathing picked up real fast and his eyes got all hazy. When he went to the faraway place and couldn't come back. 

He stared back at Phil who was approaching slowly, hands held up to show empty palms. The boy still growled, climbing over Wilbur to put himself in front of Wilbur. 

“What did you do to him?” He yelled, anger flooding through him. It curled around his heart, blocking the fear and constant ringing of danger! danger! danger! “What the fuck did you do to my brother!” 

Phil sucked in a breath, exhaling it slowly. Tommy could see the cogs in his brain turning, and normally that meant nothing good was going to happen. Or least, it did with Dream. 

“He’s just really scared right now Toms and-” Phil was shocked into silence by the low snarl from the pup. 

“Don’t fucking call me that!” He screeched, snapping his teeth at the hand that came too close. Phil recoiled his hand, eyes swimming with emotions and one that looked eerily close to hurt. 

“Okay, okay, Tommy. I won’t call you that.” Phil said, voice low and gentle. It shouldn’t be gentle. It should be harsh and mean. It should be telling Tommy to get out of the way. The hand shouldn't have flinched back and left, it should have grabbed and pinned! 

Tommy wanted to cry because Philza was doing everything wrong! He shouldn’t be nice! Not after making Wilbur go to the far away place. Not after making Wilbur pack up everything, and make him so exhausted! It wasn’t fair! 

“Wilbur's real scared right now.” Phil began after a few minutes of silence. Tommy just snarled, teeth flashing as he scooted back to Wilbur. He ran a hand through his fur, noticing how soft it felt. How clean it was. It was hardly ever like this. “Can you help me calm him down, Tommy?” Phil’s voice made Wilbur start shaking again, and this time it was worse than when Phil walked in. His whole body shook, and a whine slipped from his jaws.

But it was… that was different. Phil had asked for help… from Tommy. No one has ever asked Tommy for help before! It was… strange and Tommy didn’t know if he liked it or not. He had a feeling he should like it, but he didn’t know. 

“Go away!” He snapped instead. It was easier than helping. It was easier than thinking. Phil just sighed, reaching out a hand again. This time Tommy sunk teeth into the flesh. The anger around his heart flickered, and fear pushed through at the memory of the growl and the arm pushing up into his mouth. 

He let go of the hand as fast as he could, scrambling back to Wilbur’s side. He would keep him safe. He always had! Wilbur hasn’t failed to keep him safe! Wilbur whined again, and his body struggled to curl around him with how bad he was shaking. His tail curled around Tommy, and the fur brushed against his cheeks.

Phil just forced a breath through his teeth, the sound coming out in a hiss. He brought his hand up to his face, watching as the skin knit itself back together like yarn and a needle. He didn’t say anything, he just watched, blue eyes swimming with emotions Tommy was too scared to name. 

“It's okay, mate.” Phil said. “You’re okay, Wilbur's okay.” Tommy highly doubted that if his brother’s shaking is anything to go by. Wilbur whimpered, trying to tuck himself into a ball, trying to force Tommy to curl with him into a ball. Tommy refused, head poking up over his side to keep his eyes on Philza. 

“Go away! You’re scaring him!” He yelled. Phil didn’t flinch, he didn’t move. Just stayed right where he was sitting in the pile of blankets and clothes. He didn’t reach out again, but he didn’t leave. “Go away! You’re making him go to the far away place!”

“Tommy, darling, I need you to calm down.” Phil whispered, voice still oh so fucking gentle and soft! “Your stress isn’t going to help Wilbur.” A pause. “It isn’t going to help Wilbur come back from the far away place.” Tommy growled, tears pricking at his eyes. 

“He needs to feel safe and calm in order to come back from the far away place.” Phil spoke easily. “And he… he can’t do that if you’re panicking too, okay Tommy?” Tommy wanted to snarl and argue, but he held his tongue thinking over the words in his mind. 

“Then you should leave.” He said, voice oddly blank. “You’re the one who scared him, you’re the one who needs to leave.” Phil just looked on with sad eyes. 

“Mate, I can’t do that.” 

“And why not?!”

“Because I'm the adult.” He said, voice still even and sweet. “You shouldn't have to take care of Wilbur when he’s like this. It’s not fair to you, Tommy.” And… Well, Tommy hadn’t thought of that yet. He hadn't thought about what he deserved when it came to Wilbur. Well at least, not like when it revolves around taking care of him. 

“But he takes care of me.” He whispered. Phil let out a pained sound, and Wilbur whined again. He tried to push Tommy back down into his side with his maw but was unsuccessful when the shakes took over. “So… I have to take care of him too! I- I have to take care of him when he can’t take care of himself, so he can get better. And… and you need to leave so he can get better!” 

Phil frowned, head tilting slightly. 

“Oh, baby…” He murmured. “He shouldn't have to take care of you either. Not like he has been. He shouldn’t have to worry himself to death like a parent.” Tommy growled again, but this time it was weaker, and it tapered off faster than the others. 

“Fuck off!” He snapped, eyes narrowed and face flushed. He could feel tears slipping down his cheeks, but he didn’t care. He couldn’t care, not when Wilbur was shaking and choking on breaths right next to him. 

“Tommy, please calm down…” Phil said, eyes scanning over Wilbur. Tommy just snarls. Philza sighs, bringing a hand up to rub at his face. “I’m sorry little one.” Tommy was going to yell at him again, but the older wolf turned towards the door and called for Technoblade. His voice was loud and it settled in the room like a weight. 

Wilbur froze, the shaking vanishing and breaths stilling. His eyes were wide, panicked, frantically searching for something. He grabbed Tommy by the shirt with his teeth and pulled him down. The boy didn’t know what else to do, so he fell into his brother’s side with a scared whimper. 

Wilbur snarled, low and threatening, curling tight around Tommy. Tommy didn’t have much room to move, with just barely enough space to breathe. But he felt safe. In this position he couldn’t hear Technoblade open the door, he couldn't hear the hushed voices whispering, or the footsteps coming closer to the two pups. 

But he did hear Wilbur’s snarls and growls, his snapping teeth. He heard a hiss, but he couldn’t tell from who. And then he felt Wilbur move , and a loud, shrill cry filled the room. Tommy’s head shot up, eyes wide and fearful. 

Philza had just moved Wilbur. Like… just picked him up and moved him! Tommy watched as his brother came back to life, teeth flashing and snapping at Philza’s hold. He never managed to sink his teeth, or wiggle out of the hold but that didn’t matter because as soon as Wilbur’s body wasn’t covering Tommy’s, he felt large, scarred hands grab at him. The hold was gentle, but it was still terrifying. 

He was lifted up out of the blankets with a scream, his arms and legs thrashing in a futile attempt to escape. Techno didn’t even make a noise as the boy sunk his claws into his arms, just pulled him to his chest, and stood up. 

Wilbur was screaming, yelping, and crying, body thrashing against Phil’s hold. His jaws snapped, the sound echoing in a hollow mouth. Phil just hushed the wolf, arms locking him to a strong chest. 

Wilbur would never have stood a chance! Not against Phil! Tommy renewed his struggling, trying his best to ignore Techno’s steady steps towards the door. 

“Let me go, you bitch!” He screamed, voice hoarse and shaking. “I said let me go!” He repeated when Technoblade didn’t put him down. The older man just huffed, hot breath moving a few stray strands of hair from the boy's forehead. 

“Wilby!” He cried, tears pouring down his face and soaking the chest that he was held against. The word wobbled and anyone could tell it was filled with fear. Techno sucked in a breath, holding onto Tommy tighter, a large hand coming up to cover Tommy’s ears. 

“Shhh, pup. It’s okay, you’re okay.” Techno murmured, chest rumbling with his words. “You’re both stressing each other out, so we’re gonna separate ya, okay?” Tommy whined, thrashing and turning his head in a violent manner. 

“LET ME GO!” he screeched as loud as he could. He could hear Wilbur growling, cries loud and clear even though Techno’s hand. 

“I’m sorry, pup. I can’t.” And with that, Technoblade had exited the room, the door closing behind them with a click. The sound of Wilbur thrashing was much more muffled, but it didn’t stop Tommy from screaming bloody murder, teeth and claws sinking into whatever they could find. 

And to Technoblade’s credit, he didn’t even flinch, just took every bite and scratch with a blank face. He didn’t growl, he didn’t bare his teeth, he just kept walking. The constant pace and gentle swaying was forcing a bit of calm into Tommy, and he hated it. 

Wilbur was struggling! He was scared and here Tommy was being rocked into silence. Techno hummed gently, removing his hand from the pup’s ears. 

“I know this is really scary.” He begins. “But Wilbur's gonna be okay. He was just… well you know when you get really focused on something?” He waits for Tommy to nod before he continues. “That’s what just happened. Wilbur was too focused on you to focus on calming down.” 

Tommy looks up at the red eyes staring down at him. They were soft, harsh edges faded into curving lines. His lips were upturned slightly, and his eyebrows weren’t rigid like Dream’s were. They were just… big and soft, relaxed. 

He hummed questionably, eyes watery and face wet. Snot was running down from his nose, and Techno brought up a sleeve to wipe gently wipe it away. 

“Wilbur was really scared, wasn't he?” Techno asked, voice soft and gentle. Like Philza’s voice. “Well, because he was so scared, all he could focus on was you.” Tommy tried to stifle a whine, the feeling of being the problem filling his head. 

“Hey, no sweetheart, it’s not your fault. Wilbur… he just sometimes needs some help to get out of that place, huh?” Tommy nodded, bringing his arm up to scrub at his nose. “And he couldn't get that help when all he could think about was you.” Tommy nodded again, sniffling. He could feel his lips wavering into a frown and fought off another wave of tears. He didn’t get to be crying, not when Wilbur was somewhere in the house just as scared, if not more so. 

“It’s not a bad thing, baby.” Techno murmurs, feet walking down the old steps. The wood didn’t creak, however, staying strong and supporting whatever weight was laid upon it. “It’s actually quite a good thing. But when we need to calm you both down, it’s just a bit tricky, since you both keep accidentally scaring the other.” Tommy didn’t say anything, he didn’t move. The rumblings of Techno’s chest when he spoke… It was nice. Wilbur’s didn’t do that. When he spoke it didn’t feel like a purr, like a blanket being laid over him with words. 

“You're doing so good, dearheart.” Techno hummed, sitting down on the couch. There was a book on the table next to it, as well as a blanket on the back of the plush cushions. Tommy just whined weakly, the sound pitiful even to his own years. And that was saying something since he was such a big man! 

Techno laid down on the couch, head resting on the armrest. One arm was curled around Tommy, still holding him possessively to his chest, the other grabbing at the blanket and tugging it over the pup. 

Techno grinned at the sight of blonde hair poking out from under the blanket, and he coos when he felt a little fist clutch at his shirt. He grabbed the book, eyes scanning over the cover. 

“Do you want me to tell you a story, sweetheart?” He asked, and he knew his voice was rumbling his chest if the way Tommy sighed said anything. The pup just nodded, burying his head in the older’s chest. Techno smiled, a small chuckle leaving his lips. 

“I’m going to tell you the story of Thesus, littler one.” He said before clearing his throat and beginning. 

Wilbur couldn't breathe. He couldn't focus. He could feel the cries, the whimpers flying from his maw, but he couldn’t hear them. He could feel Philza’s hands running up and down his back, fingers scratching at his skin. It wasn’t helping. 

He struggled against the hold, body shaking. Phil was speaking, but he wasn’t listening. Tommy was gone. Technoblade had taken him! He had taken him away! 

He snarled, teeth snapping at the hands that held him. Phil just moved his hands to the back of his neck, holding his scuff firmly. Wilbur had to fight off the boneless feeling that was threatening to consume him. He twisted and wiggled, pulling and throwing his head to try and loosen Philza’s grip. 

It wasn’t working. 

“Easy, Wilbur. I need you to breathe.” Phi’s voice spoke. It was steady, and firm. Wilbur snarled. He wasn’t going to listen. Not to the man that had taken his brother. He snapped his teeth, turning and rolling. The blankets rubbed against his skin, and his legs got tangled in what felt like a shirt but he didn’t stop moving. 

“Wilbur breathe.” Phil hummed, and it was only then that he realized he had stopped breathing. He froze, sucking in a breath. It was harsh, and it burned his throat but he forced it down. His lungs screamed, and his body shook with the force of his exhale but he took another. 

He still snapped his teeth, and he started his struggle again. He could hear Phil sigh and then… he was let go. Wilbur yelped, tail wagging at this small victory. He untangled himself from the nest of clothes and blankets and jumped to his paws. His legs shook, but his head swiveled to the door. 

He lunged for it, feet pushing the clothes and bunching it up behind him. As soon as his claws hit the floor he began to move. He jumped for the door, but as soon as his paws left the ground, teeth grabbed at the back of his neck. He yelped and any momentum he had was lost. 

Philza had fucking shifted . 

Wilbur screamed, or well the wolf equivalent of a scream. He twisted, but it was getting hard to shake off the feeling of safety and comfort. His body instinctively curled up, tail tucking between his legs. His ears were turned down, and he stopped thrashing the longer he was being held in the position. 

Philza was making chuffing sounds, slowly walking to the center of the nest. Wilbur hung loosely in his jaws, the teeth clamping down on the loose skin gently. As soon as they reached the center, Phil set him down. 

The pup didn’t move, just let his body fold until he was laying. He laid his face on his paws as Phil grabbed a blanket with his teeth. The bigger wolf laid down, pulling the blanket over them as he curled around Wilbur. 

The pup just heaved out a sigh, eyes closed. Phil’s body was warm and solid next to him. It was like being embraced in a safety blanket. Vaguely, Wilbur wondered if this is what Tommy felt. 

Phil huffed, letting the blanket loosely over the top of them. The sudden darkness was comforting in a way that being asleep was. His body was hot, but he didn’t want it to cool and a new form of fuzziness was taking over his head. It was like the fuzziness he used to get when his mom… when his mom held him in the middle of the night after a nightmare. 

Before all the pain and fear… back when things were good. When he could go to sleep with a full belly, and warm blankets, when Tommy was too little to worry about if they had a place to sleep that night. 

Phil moved gently, nosing at Wilbur’s cheek and licking at it. The pup whined, ears flattening to his head. Phil didn't stop, sniffing around his face and neck, rubbing along the pup’s fur with his own. Wilbur’s brain was getting too foggy, and he realized he couldn't think straight. 

All he could register were the feelings of safety, warmth, and care. 

A wet tongue started to drag along his back, and his ears picked up at that. Was Phil… licking him? It dragged along his back picking up dirt and dried pieces of mud. It was… it was nice. 

He felt teeth scrape along his skin, but it didn’t hurt. If anything it felt like getting a back scratch, and he slumped into the feeling, even leaning a bit towards Phil. The older wolf huffed, hot air ticking his side as he picked out sticks and mud with his teeth. His tongue gently swept up any remaining dirt, and by that time Wilbur was too far gone in the fog to care. 

His breaths were even, he felt clean, and he was warm. His muscles no longer shook, and his brain felt like it was turned off. Phil was soft and steady next to him, and the blanket covering the both of them felt secure. 

He yipped happily, tail thumbing up and down from where it was curled around him and if he could see Phil he would’ve seen the wolfish grin that was sent his way. He didn’t know how long they laid like that, but he soon heard the sound of footsteps and the door creaking open. 

“He’s asleep?” Technoblade asked, voice rumbling but soft. Phil just huffed, laying his head over the pup. Wilbur just sighed, any remaining tension vanishing from him. He heard the door click shut and then the sound of fabrics being stepped on but he was too lost to care. 

He felt the blanket shift and he grumbled, licking at his lips and rolling to his side. Wilbur stretched out, a groan sounding in his throat before he curled into a ball. Phil bent down, licking at his neck before nosing around his fur. Seemingly satisfied he laid his head down, eyes half-lidded. 

Techno just grinned, setting something small and warm down next to Wilbur. The pup didn’t mind, just reached out a paw to feel what it was. When he felt skin and clothes he forced his eyes open, and his whole body started wiggling when he noticed it was Tommy. His tail thumped the ground heavily and he yipped quietly. Phil lifted his head, letting the pup shimmy over to his brother. 

Wilbur licked at Tommy’s cheeks, and the boy groaned, rolling into Wilbur, hands fisting into his fur. Wilbur smiled, lips upturned and teeth flashing. He curled up once more into a ball, but this time he rested his head on Tommy’s side. Phil laid his head back on the pup’s back, licking at his side. 

Techno had shifted and the massive cinnamon wolf had laid down on the other side of the pups. A blanket had been pulled over the four, and it was warm. It was warm and safe and everything a family should be. 

Wilbur tried to stop that feeling. The feeling of having a family here. They weren’t family! Hell, they fucking kidnapped them! But… well just for a little bit more he would let Tommy have this. Yeah… for Tommy. 

Tommy could get to know what it was like to have a family… to be loved and cared for. 

And then you’re going to rip it away! The voice snarled, venom and poison dripping from its words. 

Wilbur… he didn’t know what to respond to that, so for now he shoved it back down and elected to think about it later. Right now, he could just relax, enjoy the feelings of safety and comfort.

Tommy was safe… he was safe… they were warm… they’d be ok. They’d be okay.

Chapter Text

Tommy felt loved. He felt cared for and cherished. It was warm. Everything felt soft, and he could feel something warm and heavy resting over his back. Warm puffs of air tickled his skin and he had to bite back a giggle. Instead, he turned into the warm soft thing laying on him, handing fisting into the fur. 

He heard a chuff but other than that the lazy haze gripped back onto his arms, gently tugging and pulling at him. It was so easy to fall back asleep, and he did so without a problem. His eyes were closed and he let out a content sigh before the warmth of sleep took him in her arms and swept him away. 

Techno eyes Tommy lazily. The feeling of his tiny hands tangled in his fur was disgustingly heartwarming. The boy mumbled in his sleep, but what little consciousness the boy had was soon gone, and he fell limp again. Techno cast a quick look to his friend, seeing Wilbur curled tightly near his side. His face was resting on his paws, and his ears fell to one side with the weight of gravity. 

The wolf chuffed slightly, grabbing the sandy wolf’s attention. In the morning light of the next day, he could see the specks of gold in his friend's fur and he felt his eyes soften. They gleamed in the golden morning light, and Techno couldn’t help but compare him to a piece of gold. 

Phil looked over, pale blue eyes strong and sharp. His ears were high, alert. Techno just grinned, tail wagging slightly behind him. He motioned downwards with his snout, pointing to Tommy who clung so effortlessly to Techno. 

The oldest wolf huffed, tail swishing back and forth behind him. His eyes were slightly wide, but his tongue lolled out of his mouth, and happy. They had done it, they had finally got the pups to rest, and for a whole day? Techno felt that possessive thing in his chest rise, and he grinned. 

The voices for once were all on the same page, cooing and awwing at the two pups who slumbered on. His instincts purred at having two pups in his nest and he wanted nothing more than to spoil the two. He planned on it too. To drown them in riches and comfort, to give them the family that he could see they craved.

Techno was always watching, he was always listening. When he heard the sound of tiny feet scuttling around the main floor of his house he got up and walked down the stairs. He avoided any loose floorboards, or creaky stairs and traveled to where he heard the faint sound of pattering feet. 

It was Wilbur, stuffing and storing his pockets with anything he could find in the pantry. It made Techno’s blood boil… not at the fact that Wilbur was getting food, but rather at the fact that he felt the need to gather so much in such a short time with a pale face and shaking hands. 

He had growled when the kid turned around with fear in his eyes, and he forced it down when he saw the kid flinch and run for the living room, food still pocketed and ‘hidden’. He didn’t say anything about it. How could he? Someone out there had made him that way. Made him terrified of other people, untrusting and dishonest. 

And when Techno found out who that person was, he was going to give them the slowest death he could think of. Tear their skin from their body and cover it with salt and lime. He’d let them get sick with every infection before forcing a health pot down their throat and doing it all again.   

But now… they had a name now. Dream. And if that name was a name that didn’t ring any bells. Techno forced a growl off, swallowing it down as he pushed his nose in Tommy’s golden curls. They had fished out the golden clasps from Wilbur’s coat when they brought them home and stored them in the nest. 

Techno wanted to braid his hair again, but that would mean moving and shifting and he didn’t want to do that. Not when he had his pup cuddled close and asleep. They were already exhausted, he didn’t need to add to it. Phil huffed, grabbing his attention from the boy. He nuzzled Wilbur’s neck, tilting his head at Techno who nodded. 

He leaned down, nosing around Tommy’s shoulders, moving around to his front. He nosed along his collar bone, searching. Tommy groaned, turning away from the prying nose. His small hands clutched Techno’s fur harder, and Techno couldn’t stop the fond huff and gentle lick to the boy's hairline.

He kept searching, nosing along his right collar bone, and then his left. And that’s when it clicked. It wouldn’t be noticeable to a human, or a Fae. To even a vampire. It was like a shock when pressed, and it could be found in all wolves. It was a way to bond, but it was also a way to force a shift if something was wrong. 

There had been many cases in the early sixteen hundreds of failed full moon shiftings after the humans had found a poison in the form of wolfsbane. 

 He grinned, gently pressing against the spot. He pushed a little harder when the spark didn’t shock, internally wincing at the small whimper Tommy let out. But it wasn’t long before Techno flinched back, the shock sending small bolts of lightning down his spine. Techno then watched as Tommy’s body began to shake, and he could hear his bones start to crack and move around.

Techno licked at his cheek as he began to shift. It was quite quick, considering his age, and soon curled up against his side was a dusty golden wolf. It was like he was every gold ring Techno had ever collected. 

He was covered in a short layer of dusty brown fur. Puppy fur. Small patches of golds and yellows could be seen around his paws and face. His cheeks had small tufts of white, but Techno could see he would stay light. He had a dark muzzle, and the underside of his eyes were black. 

It gave him an almost raccoon-like feel, with the rich gold hues tracking down from his eyes like tears. He had splotches of gray along his cheeks as well, like an afterthought. Like freckles.

He licked along the pup’s face, tongue dragging against soft and thin fur. Techno could imagine him older. Would he be lean? Would he be stockier? Would the colors get more vibrant, would they fade? He huffed, nosing along his neck before laying his head over the pup’s back.

He’d look good in blood. 

Dream’s blood. 

Blood. 

Like the Red Sea! 

Hahaha! 

Techno started to ignore the voices after that. 

Phil had scruffed Wilbur, gently bringing him over to Techno. Wilbur was dark in comparison to Tommy. 

For one, while Tommy’s face was near white gold, Wilbur’s was black. He looked like he had stuck his face in a chimney and got covered in soot. His eyes were closed, but Techno knew how striking they were. He was covered in puppy fur as well, but in the golden morning light, he was able to see that his puppy fur was that dark chocolate brown color. 

Where his fur had grown and changed, it had turned white. His tail was tipped in black like a pen to ink, but then it faded to gray up his flank. He only had that dark chocolate color around his chest and underbelly. Techno wondered how long it would stay that way if it would stay brown, or grow in white. Or even black. 

Overall, the pup looked like he belonged in the mountains. 

Phil had laid down, body curled around Wilbur and pushing him closer to Tommy. The older pup whined, eyes opening slightly before locking onto Tommy. From there he shuffled over, resting his head on the pup’s flank. Phil grinned, tail thumping the ground behind him as he licked over Wilbur’s neck and cheek. 

Phil’s coat was long and fine, and a sandy blonde more than anything. He had a white snout, and fur cascaded from his cheeks to his chest to his belly. White’s and grays filtered through his body, and his shoulders had white markings, not unlike Wilbur’s. Techno grinned at the thought. 

Phil’s tail had a streak of darker blonde running through it, reaching a white tip. His belly was covered in soft white fur before fading out into the blonde along his sides. Grays were splattered across his sides, almost along his ribs, and gave off a shimmering effect when he ran. 

As for Techno, the biggest wolf was covered in long thick fur. It often matted and tangled, and he couldn’t count the number of times he had laid across Phil’s lap while the older man ran a brush through his coat, picking out sticks, mud, and leaves. 

He had a dark gray back, that ran up his neck and partly down his tail. His shoulders were caked in white spots and dashes, and they flaked along his back like snowflakes. His white belly faded out into pale brown paws. His chest was covered in thick, long, copper-colored fur, but his face was what took most of the attention. 

He didn’t have ‘pretty’ colors like Philza did. He didn’t have pretty markings, or swirling fur. But he did have his scars. His body was littered with them. Along his sides, his chest, his back. He was forever missing a claw on one of his paws. But along his muzzle stood two long, jagged scars. They stretched across his face, a permanent marker to his skin. And along with his eye, running down his face laid a thin scar. His fur had started to grow around it, covering any thicker spots. 

He could still remember how he got it. It wasn't too long ago when he and Phil had decided to spar. When Phil had decided he had enough of Techno’s bullying and pinned him to the forest floor, teeth snapping and snarls viscous. Techno had crossed a line long since set, and yet he still snapped back. 

Phil took it as a challenge and had clamped his jaws tightly around Techno’s muzzle, claws digging into the large wolf’s shoulders. They had wrestled along the floor, Techno whining and whimpering as he tried to get Phil to let go, and had eventually tucked his tail, pinned his ears to his head, and cried . 

It didn’t take long for Phil to let go and in a few short minutes after the fight, Techno was curled up in a blanket, a fretting Phil apologizing again and again over the injury. He had spent hours making soup, cleaning the wound, bandaging it, and stoking the fire to a comfortable blaze. 

Tecno huffed at the memory, leaning down and running his tongue along Phil’s cheek. The blonde wolf huffed, tail thumping the ground gently as he laid his head over the two pups. Wilbur and Tommy had cuddled close, and the younger pup had his head buried under Wilbur, and yet was still squished against Techno’s side. 

It made the wolf grin, pearly whites flashing for just him to know. His eyes had softened, and chat began to coo. 

Softnoblade.

Dadnoblade?

Soft Vibes.

They're so small!

Small babies! 

Baby man! 

Techno shook his head, licking at his lips before lowering his head over Phil’s. He rested on the older wolf’s neck, nuzzling into the fur there gently. Phil huffed, pushing up slightly to greet his friend. The pups were safe. 

They were safe. 

They did good, they learned, they know they can’t leave. 

Techno closed his eyes, a yawn escaping him. The next time they woke, they could talk, they could work some things out. They wouldn’t have to be afraid. Tommy and Wilbur wouldn’t have to look over their shoulders anymore. Not if Techno had anything to say about it.

Chapter Text

Tommy woke up slowly. Like… his eyes fluttered open kind of slowly. That in of itself was new, but not unwelcome, and he grinned lazily, tail thumping the ground softly. That was also new, he didn’t remember falling asleep shifted… oh well, it’s not like he minded all that much. 

His eyes adjusted to the dim light and he wanted to stretch his head up, but there was a comforting weight somewhere along his back and neck and he didn’t want to risk losing it. It was rare that Dream didn’t wake them up screaming and yelling, and the days he didn’t were spent in the few minutes of absolute bliss. 

He felt something next to him shift, and then a rough, damp texture was dragged along his nose. He sneezed, shaking his head and perking his ears up, the warm weight along his back shifting and sliding down to his side. He whined at the loss, ears flattening against his head. 

The sound of a huff sounded from… somewhere… everything was still super fuzzy. The rough damp texture came back, but this time it went along his back and neck, then his ears, and over his eyes. Tommy didn’t even have time to blink the weariness away before he was closing them again. 

He sighed contently, deciding that he liked this feeling, and laid back down. His side still ached really bad, but then the damp thing ran over it a few times and it stopped throbbing. Tommy could yip if he wasn’t so tired, so instead, he tried to shuffle closer to this mysterious feeling. 

What he ended up shuffling closer to was something warm and soft and it felt like fur… lots of fur. More fur than Wilby had when he was sifted… and he was shifted! Tommy remembered from last night! 

Last Night. 

The warm soft furs curled closer around him and his eyes flew open. He didn't have time to blink weariness away before stumbling away from the brown and red fur and into the black and white fur of his brother. He whined, high-pitched and scared. 

He didn’t know why he felt scared… but Wilbur was always scared of them so he should be too. Right? 

Wilbur shifted immediately, eyes snapping open in a glaze before sharpening. Wilbur pulled back his lips, flashing his teeth at whatever warm and soft furs were behind Tommy. He snarled and snapped his jaws, letting the bones clack together loudly. 

Tommy whimpered, trying to hide his face under Wilbur’s side, trying his best to ignore the aching sting from the stab wound. He still couldn’t believe Dream had stabbed him… 

He pushed it to the back of his mind, fighting to stay aware as the panic set in. He heard a huff, a groan, and a sigh. Tommy could feel his paws scrambling for purchase in his attempt to get under his brother, but then he felt that damp rough thing lick along his scruff and then he was being lifted off the ground. 

He screamed, tiny body flailing and twisting. He heard Wilbur snarl and the sound of teeth snap before he too yelped. The small pup couldn’t see what was happening, he just remembered the days where Dream would come in and take Wilbur away. Why was he taking him away! 

He didn’t do anything wrong! He… slept like he was supposed to! They didn’t get up in the night! They-They were good! They were good… They did everything right! It wasn’t fair, it was fair, it was fair! 

 Tommy screamed and cried, whines and yelps bleeding from his mouth like a punctured vein. He could feel his body swaying with movement, he could feel the teeth in his scruff holding oh so gently, but it didn’t stop the fear . It didn’t stop the pain. It didn't stop the anxiety of waiting for the first blow, because no matter how ‘gentle’ they seemed they were always violent in the end. 

He barely recognized the hallway they were in, and then the steps, and then they were in the living room. There was a nest there and it looked safe but Wilbur wasn’t there and his breathing was too fast. It was too fast! 

He could see the black spots and Wilbur always said those were bad but he couldn't help it! He couldn’t stop it! He needed Wilbur! He needed Wilbur! He needed his brother. Where was his brother? Why wasn’t he coming? 

Why wasn’t he coming? 

A warm weight settled next to him, curling protectively around the shaking pup. Silky red fur soft and gentle to the touch running along his side. Tommy felt his breath hitch, and the black spots stopped swirling behind his eyes. He felt a cool wet nose poke around his back and side, sniffing and pressing firmly. 

It was like he was saying, ‘ I’m here’. But that would mean… that would mean he cared. And no one cared! No one… does he? Tommy whined, shifting closer to the cold nose, forcing Technoblade to press harder against his side. He wasn’t hurting him, but it was definitely a grounding force. 

Techno huffed, pressing a little harder before licking at his wound. The skin had begun healing quite nicely, not that Tommy could tell. He was just glad the throbbing had stopped. He was also glad that the black spots had fled his vision, and he could feel his heart rate slowing down as well. 

The nose was pulled away, and Tommy let out a drawn-out sigh, ears flattening against his head. He heard the sound of bones snapping and turned to meet the gentle red eyes and skin of Techno. He couldn’t stop his tail from wagging at the sight. 

Scared hands reached around the pup, gently lifting him into a sturdy chest where his head found its resting spot on a large, firm shoulder. The pup let out a content sigh, happy that Techno wasn’t leaving and instead holding him. He liked being held, though if you ever asked him, he’d deny it up and down. But for now… now he would enjoy the feeling of fingers running through his fur and gently scratching at his skin. 

Wilbur’s hugs never felt this good, but maybe that was because he was trying to find comfort in the hug too. Tommy didn’t want to think about it, so he shoved the thoughts away into the faraway part of his mind that he never touched anymore. 

“You’re doing so good.” A rumbling voice spoke. “So, so good, my little one.” Tommy huffed, tail swishing back and forth slowly. “That was pretty scary, huh? But it’s ok. You’ll learn we’ll never hurt you. We’ll never make you scared on purpose. We just have to make sure you both are safe.” Techno’s voice was a good voice to be read to, Tommy thought, and he felt the sudden need to tell him. 

In a few quick seconds, Tommy’s fur had fallen out and was replaced with pale skin. A blonde head of hair ticked the elder’s neck and it made Techno tense. 

“You have a really nice voice.” Tommy mumbled, words slurred and voice scratchy. “You should try reading to people for a living.” Techno could only chuckle, eyes glancing to the stairs. 

“You think so?” He asked, shifting his hold to support the pup better. Tommy just hummed in response, hands coming up to pay with the loose strands of bubble gum pink hair. The older just huffed before standing slowly and grabbing a book from the coffee table. 

It was just a simple book, something about hobbits and dragons and some grand quest. Techno wasn’t really paying attention, more focused on just reading aloud for the pup. It wouldn’t take long for Phil to relax Wilbur. It wouldn’t take long for Wilbur to trust them. And then, they could take care of Dream. 

They’d be able to rid their pups of the monster in their heads.

Wilbur had stilled, breaths falling harsh and fast. He had picked a corner of the room, teeth bared at Phil. The older werewolf just sat, legs crossed underneath him with a soft expression on his face. Wilbur wanted to slap it off of him. He didn’t have the right to look at him like that. Like he mattered. 

Why would you ever matter? 

You’ve never mattered before! 

It’s all your fault ya know. 

You did this. 

He shook his head, snarling lowly at the vicious voices that spoke his insecurities. Phil just tilted his head, eyes glinting in the dim light in what looked like understanding. If Wil was wearing his skin right now, he would have scoffed. Philza had no idea what it was like. What he was feeling. 

He could think and imagine, but he had no idea! 

They sat that way for what couldn’t have only been a few minutes but felt like years to the pup before Phil finally spoke. 

“When we find Dream, we’ll make sure he pays for everything he ever did to you.” Those words… Those words froze Wilbur to the bone. His head snapped over to look at the older blonde, eyes wide. 

No one had ever offered something like that, and the pup couldn’t stop the small flicker of hope that sparked to life in his chest. It felt… freeing.  

“What Dream did was wrong, and I’m sure you know this. We will never be anything like Dream.” Phil continued. “We want to see you pups flourish, and grow. We need to see you safe and protected.” Wilbur bared his teeth. 

Dream had promised him the same thing a few years ago. Love and support. Parentship and safety. He had lied. Just like everyone does. No one means what they say they mean. No one cares . 

“You have every right to distrust us, Wilbur.” Phil said, voice low and soft. “But think of Tommy. Think of how little he is, and how scared he must be. If you two were to end up on the streets, what’s stopping someone like Dream from taking him away? What’s stopping anyone from taking him away?” Wilbur snarled, the hair along his hackles raised. He stood shakily, ears pinned back and tail held high even though he just wanted to roll over and submit. Anything to make him stop talking about someone taking Tommy away. 

“Don’t you think Tommy deserves to be around other wolves too? Wilbur, you both need a home. You both need somewhere safe and warm to sleep, where you can have full bellies and new clothes every day. You deserve it.” Phil finished, words hanging in the air like the echo of a drum. 

Wilbur’s body started to relax, (against his will) his ears tilting up and lips falling back over his teeth. He stared at Philza’s eyes, trying his damndest to find the lie. The trick. The disgust. He searched, and searched… but he didn’t find anything. 

He didn’t find anything. 

His eyes were kind and true, genuine. Something he hadn’t seen from many adults. Something he didn’t think he would have longed for. Something he didn’t think he could have.

He’s going to take Tommy away. 

He’s lying. 

Are you really this stupid? 

Are you going to fall for these lies again? 

Stupid. 

Worthless. 

Pathetic. 

Wilbur whined, ears flattening against his head and tail tucking underneath him. He bared his teeth at his paws, and it took everything in him not to sink his teeth into the skin there. Philza just sat there, a sad look in his eyes. But that didn’t mean Wilbur didn’t see how his hands closed and opened and jerked forward before belting pulled back to the man’s side. 

Like he wanted to hold him. 

The pup shook his head, trying to shake away those thoughts. They were nothing but poison and would only end up hurting him in the long run. Philza sighed, standing slowly and with his hands held out, palms up. 

“I’m going to get you some water and bring up some food ok? You can come with me, and you can check on Tommy too. I promise. He’s just downstairs with Techno.” Wilbur snarled at this, eyes narrowing into a glare. “I know you don’t like him Wil, but he would never dare hurt him. And if he ever did, he would have to answer to me.” 

Wilbur’s growl choked, before dying off and he stared at Philza. Would Philza fight Technoblade over Tommy and him? Would he put himself up against such a large wolf to protect two pups he hardly knows? 

He wouldn’t. There’s no way he would do that! No werewolf would tear apart their pack over pups they had just meant. When Phil stood, he walked backwards to the door, palms raised the whole time. 

“It’s ok if you don’t believe me. I’ve done nothing to prove it to you yet. But I promise I will always protect you, ok?” He said, voice soft and gentle. “If you come downstairs, you can stay with Tommy while Technoblade and I talk. Does that sound fair?” Wilbur glared, hackles raised, but he knew this was the only compromise he would get. 

The pup let out a huff, and slowly stood, legs shaking and tail tucked between his legs. Phil smiled, opening the door and stepping out slowly. Wilbur followed, eyes glued to the floor. Phil walked slowly behind him, eyes watching the slow and hesitant steps of the small soot dusted pup. 

He shouldn’t be this thin. Every part of him agreed, and he made a silent promise to make sure every meal was fresh and hot. They shuffled down the stairs, Wilbur trying his best to speed up but keep his footing. By the time he made it to the first floor, he was searching every lookable room for his brother. 

And that’s when he saw him, laying curled up in a nest on the floor in front of glowing embers. It didn’t look like Technoblade had lit a flame, and for that the older pup was thankful. His claws scratched against the wood as he made a mad dash for his brother's sleeping form. As soon as he reached the nest, he shifted, hands landing in the soft and warm blankets. 

He didn’t move to shake his brother, instead just gently and softly looking him over. He noted the tear tracks and puffy eyes, but he looked physically unharmed. He sighed in relief, and fought back his own tears as he moved to get himself under the blanket and pull his brother close. 

As soon as he could hear his steady heartbeat, he relaxed fully, shoulders slumping and breaths evening. Phil and Techno watched from a distance, eyes sad and angry. Phil mert Techno’s eyes and the larger wolf nodded, turning to head for the door to the sun room.

The older wolf quickly went to the kitchen, grabbing two waters and adding flavorless minerals to it. He also grabbed a small amount of protein bars and two sweets before heading back to the makeshift nest. He placed them down at the edge of the blankets, whispering, 

“It’s just me. I left some water and snacks right here, please eat and drink, it’ll help.” He kept his tone soft, and words warm before shuffling backwards.

Phil walked on silent feet, making sure the front door was locked as well before meeting his friend. He looked worse for ware, and Phil doubtedhe looked much better.

The room itself glowed of soft golden light, and Phil heard Techno suck in a harsh breath. The older man sighed, opening his mouth to speak but got cut off by Techno. 

“Did he ever calm down?” Techno whispered,  hands shaking before he clenched them into fists. 

“No.” Phil answered, looking to the door to spot the pups laying on the ground. Wilbur was still tense, and Tommy had shifted to cuddle as close as he could get. He couldn’t see their facial expressions, but he could only guess they’d be pulled tight with fear. 

“He curled up in a corner and snarled for the hour they were separated.” Techno growled, and Phil could feel his anger from where he stood. {hil waited a few seconds before tacking on, “He wasn’t really here, Techno. His eyes were glassy and he would snarl at himself like hwas being talked to.” 

“Like the voices?” Techno inquired, color paling from his face. 

“I really hope not.” The older wolf whispered, bringing a hand up to chew on his nails. It was a bad habit, but it helped self soothe. Techno forced a breath out, and it rattled around in his chest. 

“Tommy did ok, he just wanted to be read to.” Techno spoke. “He got a little stressed when he woke up the first time and Wilbur wasn’t there, but he fell back asleep with a few gentle words.” Phil nodded, raising his hand to run through his hair. He noticed how sweat damapened it felt, and scowled.

“I’m going to kill him.” Techno whispered. “We’ve served our time here. We can go hunting.” 

“We don’t know anything about where this man is.” Phill snarled. “Our chances of finding him through our pups is low to nothing.” Techno purred at that. Their pups . It caused something warm and soft to bloom in his chest and it spread to his fingertips in seconds. 

“They couldn’t have gotten far, Phil. The bastard is in at most a fifty mile radius of here.” Techno hummed. “They both were walking through the woods nonetheless, and with Tommy’s bleeding I’d put him in the closest ‘neighborhood’ to us.” He lowered his air quotes, pacing the floor for a second. 

“You think he’s in our territory?” Phil asked. “With two unclaimed pups? Technoblade, how would he have pulled that off?” It was silent for a few minutes before Techno’s red eyes shot up to meet Phil’s. 

“Because he’s a hunter. And he descended from the Nightmares.” 

Chapter Text

It had been four months. It had been four months of consistent warm meals, kind words, and patience. Four months of sleeping in a warm bed, and waking up late in the day. Four months of having Tommy right next to him every time he woke. It had been for months since the ‘meltdown’ as Wilbur was calling it. 

Four months and Techno and Phil were still…  kind.  

They still made the pups do things that Wilbur hated, like sit together for meals, and talk, and sometimes Techno would read to Tommy and Wilbur would sulk away to be found by Phil and they would just… sit in silence. Sometimes Phil would talk to Wilbur, most times he wouldn’t, and they’d just watch the birds from the sunroom windows. 

Wilbur would never admit it to anyone, not even himself, but he liked those days. He liked feeling Phil nearby, hearing his heartbeat, and relaxing without fear. He could still hear Techno reading to Tommy on those days, and while at first, it put him on edge, and made him think of how many things could go wrong, now he just sat and stared at the birds through the window, letting the sun warm his skin. 

He’s still wary of Technoblade, but he was always so gentle with Tommy, and Phil's promise hung in the air. But it didn’t make things any less scary when the giant werewolf would approach when he would stare with copper eyes and grin with sharp teeth. It made every instinct in his body scream and cry and want to turn over so his belly was exposed. 

But it’s getting better! Slowly… 

It had been four months, and things were still just as they were when they got there. IT had been four months and Tommy had lowered his walls and was spending more and more time with the two older werewolves. He was talking to them and searching them out throughout the day, and it was  terrifying.  Because this is when they would pull whatever sick trick they had planned. 

This was when they would separate them, make Wilbur go away because they had what they wanted. This would be when they started hurting him and make him promise not to tell Tommy, not to ruin the illusion. Because now they have Tommy, they don’t need Wilbur. 

The thought had come to him late at night when he was curling up around Tommy. The thought that he could be happy, that he could feel love from parents, and Wilbur would still be in pain… it made the pup whine low and long, and circle around his younger brother tighter. 

He buried his nose in the long shiny blonde curls and inhaled deeply, trying to burn the scent of him into his brain. He sat there for the rest of the night, forcing each breath to be long and deep, committing the scent to memory. 

How now he smelled like the sun and fresh grass, and sometimes he smelled like rain and the sea. Instead of like dirt, and soot, and sometimes blood. Wilbur hates himself for missing those smells. He hates himself for wanting his brother to smell like he did, when he was in pain, and when he woke up in fear. 

It made him feel like the worst person on the planet. Worse than his father, worse than Dream. That made him tear up, a high-pitched whine stuck in his throat. He wanted to choke on it. 

He could hear footsteps climbing up the stairs, could smell the worry coming from someone. Tommy was still passed out, sleeping like he hadn’t in months.  (Or maybe that’s how everyone sleeps, and Wilbur just never had the chance to.)  He heard the door creak open, a dim line of light casting its way into the room like a sword. 

Techno pokes his head into the room, red eyes glowing. He finds Wilbur’s eyes and lets out a chuffing sound, slowly walking into the room. Wilbur hates how it makes him relax. Hates how it makes him crawl away from Tommy. He hates it so much, but then Techno is sitting in front of him, his eyes  kind. 

“You’re ok, pup.” He grumbles, voice soothing and gentle. “You’re gonna be fine. He’s never gonna hurt you anymore. No one is.” 

Wilbur whines, shuffling close enough to just feel Techno’s body heat. He seems to be always just a little warmer, like a living furnace, and with the cold bite outside, Wilbur appreciates it. (He’ll never say it out loud.) 

“You’re doing great, Wilbur. Tommy thinks so.” Techno begins, voice soft and quiet. “I find it very brave, how you’re deciding to stay with us.” The way his tone is right now, how it carries gently and warmly, makes everything he’s saying sound  sincere . It makes Wilbur force a scowl onto his face, lips pulled up to reveal small canines and blunt teeth. 

Techno doesn’t seem to mind, continuing on. “We’ll never get tired of you, pup. We’ll never want to get rid of you. We will wait for you, however long it takes, ok? We want both of you, we want both of you to feel safe, and loved. Phil wants to make sure you grow up wanting to explore, and wanting to try and do new things. I want you to grow up feeling fearless and strong, I want you both to feel like you can protect yourselves.” He lets the words hang around for a minute, and Wilbur hadn’t realized he had moved closer until he felt Techno run a hand through his hair. 

It was a lot softer now, and not nearly as tangled. Most of the mats and dreadlocks had vanished and it felt nice when nails scratched at his scalp aaand he’s leaning into Techno’s side, listening to him chuff at him. 

“But you wanna know what we want most?” He asks, nails stopping their scratching. 

“What?” Wilbur whispers. 

“We want you to feel safe enough to come back. Safe enough to call this place home. We want you to know that we will never let anything bad happen to you  ever  again.” 

After that, Wilbur had been a little more friendly. He spoke up a few times during dinner each night and he was the first to go to the sunroom when Techno pulled out a book. He had even had a small conversation with Phil about nightingales, which he found out he really enjoyed. 

Tommy had even picked up on it and was beaming daily, asking Wilbur to go play in the back garden when Phil and Techno were around. (Before they had only played when Phil and Techno were out hunting together, and those moments were rare and far in between.) 

Wilbur always said yes, and they had spent hours and hours outside under the big oak trees, crisp air, and warm sun, chasing each other around and playing games. Wilbur’s favorite was when he and Tommy were presidents and they ruled a small bit of land. They had called it L’manburg, and they were in the middle of a made-up election when Phil had stepped onto the porch. 

“Lunchtime, come on, up you get we’ve got pulled pork sandwiches today.” Tommy howls with joy, grabbing Wilbur’s hand and running for the wooden steps, taking them two at a time. Wilbur grinned, letting Tommy lead him into the house, following Phil.

Techno was already in the kitchen, finishing placing what looked like fried potatoes and fresh carrots onto plates. He turns at the sound of pattering feet and grins sharply at his pack. 

“They look feral, Phil.” Techno drawls, voice monotone but still warm. Somehow. 

“They’re fine, mate. Besides, tonight I think they can both do with a good bath.” Phil chuckles at Tommy’s squawk of disapproval but the young pup is distracted by the plate of warm food placed in front of him. He’s giddy with excitement and watches as more plates get placed down on the table. Wilbur, then Phil, and lastly Techno. 

Both the pups still don’t eat until they see one of the older wolves take the first bite. They still sometimes flinch when they get caught sneaking a snack from the panty, and they’ll bow their heads and scuttle away, the smell of fear and panic lingering where they stood. 

It was getting better. Slowly, but it was still progress, and that was what mattered to Phil and Techno. Was that they were feeling more confident about getting food, or letting them know they were hungry or going to play in their yard without the fear of being yelled at. They were feeling confident enough to split apart, and that had made Techno’s heart swell with pride when he first saw it. 

However, they still would never take the first bite at any meal times unless they did first, so as quickly as possible, Phil took a carrot and bit into it, savoring the crunch and earthy flavor, and watched as the two pups immediately started digging in, biting into the soft, fluffy bread and savoring the meat. 

Techno looked pleased to see them eat, but then again, he always looked pleased when they ate. Or slept. Or played… yeah ok, Techno’s just a pleased guy around his pups. Phil smiled at that thought, picking up his sandwich to begin eating as well. The meat was juicy and flavorful, and it matched well with the butter and bread. 

“Tommy, Wilbur.” Phil said after a few minutes of silence. He kept his voice soft and gentle, eyes warm and kind. The two pups looked up, Wilbur’s head snapping and Tommy’s drifting from where it was caught on a bird outside. Phil hated how Wilbur’s face paled, but he had to keep going. 

“Techno and I will be out for a few hours tomorrow.” He spoke slowly waiting for them to sink in. Tommy frowned, chewing on a carrot while Wilbur sat indifferently. “You’re both going to stay here. We don’t care if you wish to play outside, or run around the woods for a bit, but you will not leave the territory.” He made sure to make his voice firm, but not heavy, strong, but not mean. He watched Wilbur still flinch, and wanted to preen at Tommy’s frown. 

“Where are you going?” The pup asked eyes saddened. “Are you leaving for super long? Or are you just leaving to run around and play, like Wilby and I?” Wilbur looked over to Tommy then, eyes filled with something. It looked like pride, but could very well be fear just the same. (Techno couldn’t stop his pride shining through if he tired.) 

“Just for a little while, Tommy.” Techno filled in, a grin light on his voice. “We’ll be back before the sun hits noon, ok? We just need to handle some things.” Phil held his grimace, knowing that by 'things', they were going to hunt down the bastard that hurt their pups. 

"But you'll be coming back right?" Tommy asked. 

"Yes, of course." Phil supplied, ignoring the small twist in his heart that  that  would be the question the pup asks. Of all things, like what things, or can you bring me something? He asked if they're  coming back.  Techno must feel it too if the way he looks at the pup says anything. 

He looks like he swallowed a lemon, his lips are pursed so tight. 

"But you're staying for the rest of the day?" This time it's Wilbur who asks. Shy but protective and brave Wilbur. His voice is shaky but he's trying to stay brave, and it makes Phil preen to himself. 

"Yeah, we're staying today. Wanted to have the rest of the day to make sure we don't miss anything." Techno replies, a small hint of joy in his voice. It seems he liked that Wilbur decided to speak up just as much as Phil did. 

Tommy is giddy with excitement, bouncing in his chair as he looks at Wilbur. 

"Can we ask them to play with us then, Wilby? Since they'll be gone tomorrow?" His voice his filled with wonderous joy only a child could have. And it makes both older werewolves happy that they were able to provide an environment where he felt safe enough to show that joy. 

Gods know he needed it. 

Wilbur grimaces and Phil wonders what goes through his head. Wonders what happened to him that makes him so...  worried.  Worried about making a bond, or making memories with someone other than Tommy. 

It reminds Phil of the second full moon with their pups under their care. The first full moon they spent together. 

Phil and Techno had sat together, leaning against one another as their eyes scanned through the darkened woods. The moon had risen just above the horizon, and their wolves had howled in excitement. They were jittery and bouncing, and when the moon had peaked just enough, they had clawed their way to the surface, bones shifting and fur growing. 

Wilbur and Tommy were joining them this moon, at the request of Tommy, who begged and cried till Wilbur agreed. If Phil hadn't known where the pups came from, he would have smiled and laughed. But he did know where they came from, what they went through. The sight made his stomach twist and it made him crawl into Techno's arms that night and cry. 

His best friend had held him through his tears, whispering that they would kill the bastard. That they would help their pups, and make sure they were safe. That they would wait forever if they had to. 

The two wolves were sitting just in front of the treeline. Techno had turned red eyes sharp and gleaming and Phil moved to follow his gaze. If he was human, he would have smiled at the sight of the two pups sitting on the porch. 

Wilbur still looked queazy, even shifted, but Tommy's tail was wagging and his tongue was lolled out. His eyes were wide and he looked around with wonder. 

And then it hit them. This was probably their first full moon... outside. 

Phil had dropped into a play bow, tail friendly and wagging behind him. Techno had huffed shaking his fur out before heading into the woods at a steady trot. Tommy didn't seem to mind at all, however, dropping into a play bow before bounding forward. 

Wilbur looked like he wanted to lunge forward, stop him from getting any closer but he didn't. He held himself still, only standing slowly to walk a couple paces behind his brother. Phil felt pride bubble up in his chest, begging to pour from his body. 

 He couldn't really think about that though, having a small bundle of golden and white fur tackles him. He grinned, falling over onto his back. His tongue lolled out of his mouth, and he felt small paws and claws scramble at his sides. 

He let Tommy mouth at his maw, happy yips and barks filling the night air. He let the small pup move away, drop to his front paws, and bark. Phil flipped over, landing on his paws and grinning. Wilbur watched from a few feet away, ears flattened and tail still tucked. 

But he still made no move to get closer. Or to stop Tommy from playing with the older wolf. Phil huffed a breath, growling playfully and dropping to a play bow. Tommy yipped, turning on his paws and taking off into the woods. Phil followed at a much slower pace, grinning wolfishly. 

Wilbur had taken off too, chasing after his brother, tail wagging slowly. Phil felt a small flame of fondness flicker in his chest. Wilbur was still just a pup, he still just wanted to play. 

Phil let them run off, happy yips and howls filling the night air. He met up with Techno, whose gaze was locked onto the pups, tumbling and falling on the soft ground. They looked genuinely happy, and it made Phil lay down, eyes far away. 

Techno made a move to lay down as well, tail curling to his side and front paws out in front of him. His head was resting on his legs, warm red eyes still locked on his pups. 

He watched as Wilbur pinned his brother only to let go and drop down, watched as Tommy flung himself at the wolf, landing in a pile of howls and yips. Techno has no doubt in his mind that if they were human, they would be laughing.

Tommy yipped and took off towards the other two wolves, diving in between them. It made Phil turn to lick gently at his muzzle, and Techno watched as Wilbur skidded to a halt, tail tucking and ears flattening. 

He didn't come closer. 

"Alright, Toms. They can play." Wilbur said, no small amount of discomfort laced in his voice. But he seemed to soften at Tommy's happy squeal and giggle. 

Tommy began shoveling food into his mouth, only slowing when gently reprimanded by Phil. Phil could practically smell the fear and worry on Wilbur, and it looked like he lost his appetite if the way he was pushing his food around his plate was anything to say. 

Tommy began to make small talk, asking what they would all like to play and stuff. He debated with Techno for ten minutes about whether or not hide and go seek or tag was better, and then resolved their argument by combining them into hide and go seek tag. 

Philza watched Wilbur shrink in on himself almost, eyes down. He took one more carrot into his mouth before swallowing it down, barely chewing. It made Phil worry. 

"I'll be right back." Wilbur ended up whispering, sliding off the chair, and rushing towards the bathroom. Tommy didn't seem to catch his pale skin, but Techno and Phil did. They watched as he closed the door as quietly as he could, afraid that if it made a noise something horrible would happen. 

Phil let out a breath, lips pulled taut. It would be a long few hours. 

Wilbur watched with cold eyes. He watched as Techno hid behind a tree, placing his back flat against it. He watched as Phil let himself be tagged, and chuckled at Tommy's delightful squeal, yelling, "I got you! I got you!" 

Wilbur watched Techno bite his hand, shoulders shaking with silenced laughter. He kept low in the bushes, watching as Tommy scrambled about, searching, hunting, for Technoblade. 

It made a small pit in his stomach open up, and it made his heart curl. He felt it in every part of his body, his hands tensing, toes twitching and shoulders curving in. It felt like pins and needles in his hands, and he resited the urge to bite on them. 

He fought back tears that sprung to his eyes. This shouldn't be affecting him... affecting him  like this!  He was supposed to be strong. He was supposed to be happy! Happy that his brother was laughing and squealing, that he had parental figures to look up to. Happy that he felt safe enough to turn his back to them, happy that Tommy didn't wake up in cold sweats, tears streaming down his cheeks as he clutched at Wilbur. 

He knew he should be happy. He  knew  it. But it didn't make it any easier to accept. And he  hated  himself for it. 

He deserves better! 

Aww, look at the little baby! 

Selfish! 

How dare you want to make Tommy miserable for your own happiness! 

Bad! 

Horrible. 

You don't deserve him! 

You never have! 

Why don't you just start running along?

Run away! 

They don't want you! 

Do you honestly think Technoblade was telling the truth? 

No one wants you. 

No one. 

Wilbur felt tears slip down his cheeks, and he swallowed. He knew what he had to do. He knew what was needed. He just... it just took his feet a minute to start  doing  it. And if he looked back every minute, begging one of them to notice what he was doing... then well, that was for him to know. 

Because Wilbur had set his mind. And his feet were taking him back towards the small town. Back towards where he  belongs. 

Chapter Text

Wilbur didn't know where he was going, just knew the general direction he needed to head in. He knew he just needed to keep heading through the trees and he'd find the road. 

The road where had carried his bleeding baby brother away from the nightmare he was going back to. 

He's better off without you! 

He's better with Techno and Phil! 

He had a family now! 

With true wolves. He doesn't need you anymore. 

You were just a burden. 

Wilbur shook his head, fighting the tears that wanted to spill past his eyes and down his cheeks. Crying wouldn't do anything for him. It would just make the punishment worse when he got back... home? Is it home? Was it ever home? Wil thought home was with Tommy... but now Tommy's gone. 

Wilbur shook his head, his heart filling with... what was it? Anger? Regret? Hatred? He didn't know but it didn't feel... good. It felt horrible, and it kept sinking in his stomach and it made his feet feel like lead. Wilbur wanted to cry, he wanted to sit down and sob, scream for someone to come get him. 

For Techno, or Phil. Anyone. 

But he couldn't. He  wasn't  wanted. He wasn't  needed . Dream could still probably find a use for him. Even if it's for being beat on, or screamed at. He would still serve a purpose then! He would still have a reason for belonging.

Wilbur smiled at that. If he had a purpose, then everything would be ok. Tommy had his family, he would be ok. Wilbur's smile softened, and his eyes lost the small spark of happiness he had. As long as Tommy was happy... well then everything would be ok. 

Wilbur continued to walk, ignoring the aches in his feet. The sun was beginning to set, and if that meant anything, it meant Tommy was fed something warm and home-cooked, and was in a soft bed with soft blankets. 

He hoped that it would stay that way. He hoped Techno and Phil wouldn't change their minds and start hurting Tommy. That thought made the pup stop, fear curling inside his body and freezing him to the bone. 

What if that's what happened. What if that's what they wanted to happen? For him to leave so they could have Tommy all alone. So they could beat and hurt him? Starve him? Take away his blankets and pillows? 

Wilbur couldn't move. He couldn't fucking move. Everything in his body was telling him to turn around, to run back to Tommy and wrap him up in his arms, begging him to forgive him for leaving, and that he was there now, that he wasn't letting go and he would protect him. 

He raised his head, eyeing the trees he had just walked through. The leaves were dark, and they rustled in the soft wind. He couldn't suppress the shiver, and he didn't know if it was from the wind, or what could be happening to his baby brother. 

His baby brother he had left! His baby brother he had abandoned with two strange men. His baby brother, who was probably shaking in fear in a corner sobbing and screaming for him to come back. He whined, turning to head back through the trees, tears streaming freely down his face. 

A whimper climbed up his throat, falling into the forest's hushed atmosphere. He started to rush back, choking on sobs as he forced his feet to carry him back to his brother. Back home. 

He didn't hear the snapping branch under his foot. Was it his foot? He didn't know, he didn't  care.  His brother needed him. His baby brother needed him! And he wasn't there. 

What if something happened to him. What if they were hitting him right now? What if they were hurting him, and Wilbur was nowhere around? What if he was already hurt, crying, and bruised as they mocked him? 

"Tommy!" He screamed, his voice echoing back to himself through the trees. His feet carried him faster, the hysteria building in his chest. He could feel it pressing against his skin, pushing on his lungs. He could feel the heat of it burning down his cheeks with each tear. 

Techno has said he was wanted. He was wanted. why did he do this? Why did he try and run? Why did he think that Dream was going to be better? Why? Why? Why? 

He cried out when his foot caught a root. He could see the ground approaching him quickly, and he tried to cover his face with his hands. When he landed, he felt it in his arms, and then his chest. He couldn't bring in any air. Why couldn't he bring in any air? What was happening? 

Wilbur choked on air, trying desperately trying to suck down any breath he could. It wasn't working. It  wasn't  working. He couldn't breathe. His brother was out there, scared, and now alone, and Wilbur was here, lying on the ground, with dirt on his face, and he couldn't get up. He couldn't get up, he couldn't  get up! 

Pain had bloomed around his foot. The stinging, aching type of pain that would settle and sit for days. Wilbur whined, low and long, tears streaming down his face in rivers. His foot hurt, he couldn't breathe and black spots began swimming through his vision. 

He knew what was happening, he was having a panic attack. He was having a panic attack in the middle of nowhere, with his baby brother scared and alone. He was useless. 

See what happens? 

You aren't needed. 

Cant even make one choice right? 

What makes you think you can keep your brother safe? 

Pathetic. 

He didn't hear the branches snapping over the sound of his heartbeat. He didn't hear the leaves crunching or the sadistic chuckle that followed. He didn't hear anything except his panicked breathing. 

"Oh little wolf, what have you gotten yourself into?" A melodious voice spoke. The voice laughed outright when he heard the pup's breath catch in his throat, a strangled and cut-off whimper following. 

"I should have known you were disgusting moon children." It tsked, and Wilbur heard the leaves scream as weight was pressed against them. He saw the dark green cloak, and then the black undershirt, and then he saw the scarred face of  him. 

"Hello, Pup."  Dream said, a cruel grin twisting its way on his face. He wasn't wearing his mask, and his scarred features curled up in a dangerous grin. He had a long scar along his cheek, and then three running down his neck. His left eye was drifting, and the bottom eyelid was drug down following a thick scar. 

It still held some colors of green, but it looked dull and fading compared to the sharp jade of his right. His teeth were white and sharp, and light freckles dusted his face in what could have been beauty, but now looks like dirt. 

"You're in so much trouble, Wilbur." 

Tommy hadn't moved. He hadn't moved from his brother's bed, curled up in his blankets. He was shaking, but he wasn't speaking. He hadn't eaten dinner, and the tears streaming down his face hadn't stopped. But he didn't make a sound. 

It was like he was hiding. Hiding away from Techno and Phil, hiding away from whatever imaginary punishment he thought was coming his way. Techno growled, low and dangerous as he paced outside. He could pick up the scents of them from before when they were playing hide and go seek, tag, and other games. 

Wilbur's was so faint, except for a spot in the bushes. It was strongest there, but still being blown in the wind and fading. How long had he sat there, watching them play? They didn't find him when playing hide and go seek, but Tommy had said it was nothing. 

And now he was gone. Techno snarled, eyes flashing a burning red. He scented the air, ears on constant alert, trying to see if he was still around the house somewhere. It's not like he could have gone far. They'd find him. They had to find him. 

He whined, almost inaudibly, turning to look at the back door when it opened. Phil stepped out, eyes far and distant. There was a small tremor in his hands, and Techno could see his breaths were short and shallow. 

He quickly made his way over, graceful and silent. He opened his arms, letting Phil fall into them before wrapping them around tight. 

"I'm going to get him back, Phil." He murmured, voice dark. "I will bring home our pup, I promise." Phil hummed, and Techno could feel the tears sliding escaping his eyes and collecting on his shirt. He started a low purr, bringing a hand up to play with the hair at his nape. 

"It's ok. It's ok, Philza." He murmured, gentle and soft. "Go back upstairs with Tommy. Don't touch anything of Wilbur's. Make sure he feels as safe as he can, and just stay in that room. If Wilbur comes back, and I don't find him, howl for me, I'll come back right away, ok?" He felt Phil nod and he placed a kiss on his hair. 

Techno watched as Phil clambered back inside, his feet carrying him on autopilot, listened as he climbed the stairs, and then opened and closed a door. He let out one last growl, turning on his feet and jumping off the porch. 

He felt his bones shift and slide into place and then he was on the ground. The cold dirt bit at his paw pads, but he paid no mind, following the fading scent into the trees. He felt sticker bushes cling to his fur, and he knew the forest critters had fallen silent. 

That was ok, it gave him a better chance of finding his pup. 

Gods, he must be terrified. Alone in the cold, alone in the dark. It made him snarl, teeth bared to the trees as he rushed faster, the scent leading him through the woods in circles, and swirls. Down hills, up them. Through more than one creek. 

If the situation was any different, Techno would have grimaced, but his pup was out there somewhere. He was out here, and he was scared. He could smell it on his scent. He was terrified about something. 

Gods, what had he been doing? Had he just wanted to win? No that wouldn't make him leave Tommy. He wouldn't leave Tommy unless he was taken, but there was no other scent but his. It was just him, and now Techno's, and there were a few rabbits or squirrels, but no humans, no other wolves, nothing. 

Just his little boy. His little boy who was out here. Hopefully just hiding in some rocks or a tree. Hopefully, he was still here. Because the further Techno ran, the further he realized this was the same way to the town. The town Dream lived in. The town where the house resided. The house that had caused his pups so much distress in the first place. 

He really hoped that Wilbur wasn't heading back there. If he was, then he would know where he is, but it would take time to get to him. Take time to get past the wards, past the silver, past the ash. 

It would take a minute to get to his pup, and who knows what would be happening to him. Who knows what that sick bastard could be saying to him. Techno wanted to scream, but he knew better. He dropped his nose to the foliage, smelling through the dying leaves and dirt. 

He could pick up Wilbur's scent and it was getting stronger. There was no way he was shifted, Techno would have found fur or his prints. So he was walking, or running, and both of those made Techno want to cry out for him. 

Beg for him to come back. 

He knew better. 

His ears flicked and twisted at each small sound. A mouse running underground, the flutter of wings. A cricket chirping off in the distance. They picked up all sorts of things, and he listened carefully, trying to figure out of a set of paws running on the ground belonged to his pup or a raccoon. 

And that's when he heard it. A high-pitched, wavering scream. 

"Tommy!" Technoblade froze, ears turned to the sound before his body jumped into motion. His paws hit the ground faster than he once thought possible. His pup had screamed for his brother. He had  screamed  for him. Techno wanted to howl out, to let him know he was coming, but he didn't think that was a good idea. 

What if it made him run again? What if it made him go silent and freeze. What if he thought he was in trouble and had to hide from a punishment that wasn't going to come? There were too many what-ifs to be safe. Too many possibilities of what could happen.

In hindsight... maybe he should have howled. Maybe he should have let his presence be known. If he had... maybe Wilbur would still be there. 

He felt his fur rise on his neck and back, hackles raising. He snarled, eyes narrowing and shining red. He was approaching what looked like every other part of the forest. Trees, leaves, a log somewhere. There was grass and bushes, and everything looked  normal.   

It was far from it. The scent was  putrid.  Like decaying flesh trying to knit itself together. Like a heart gone dead, left still inside a carcass for far too long. Like fear and pain. And  blood. 

Techno snarled, dropping his nose to the ground and smelling through the dirt and leaves. He picked up Wilbur's scent, sharp and calming and  fresh.  But the other scent. The scent of something dead was there too. And it was strong. 

It was overpowering, and Techno couldn't help putting a paw over his nose and sneezing. He couldn't help walking faster, trying to follow his baby's scent. But where ever he went, the scent of death followed. The scent of decay and rot trailed his pup's scent and tainted it with fear. 

Technoblade could smell the anxiety plaguing Wilbur's scent. Could smell the fear, sorrow, the regret. He whined, following the trail to the edge of the woods. To the edge of the small town, where the houses looked identical, with white picket fences and apple pie lifestyles. 

Techno snarled here, moving away from the scent of death, moving back into the tree line. Dream had his pup. Dream took Wilbur. His pup was back in the hands of the monster who had scared him so badly. And it was their fault. They let him think he was unwanted. He let him think he was unworthy of love. 

He would get him back. 

He would get him back if it was the last thing he had done. 

Chapter Text

Tommy closed his eyes. He knew that Phil was next to him, arms hugging him close. He knew that Techno was outside, searching for Wilbur. He knew that Techno would get him back. But he was still scared. He still felt alone... 

Wilbur wasn't supposed to leave. He wasn't supposed to abandon him. He was supposed to be there for him forever. That's what he promised. That's what he  promised.  Tommy felt the tears stream down his face, and he could feel his lungs trying to hug the air that was left inside. 

He knew he was sobbing, but he couldn't hear it. He couldn't feel it. He just felt... alone. Empty. Tommy thinks Wilbur would have called it numb. But Wilbur wasn't here anymore. He was gone. He had left Tommy alone. He had left him with two strangers. 

Tommy began to cry harder. He didn't have anyone to protect him anymore. He didn't have Wilbur close by to keep him safe or hum to him. He didn't have his big brother to chase away the nightmares. He didn't have W ilby  anymore. 

Phil curled tighter around him, drawing the black blanket tighter around them both. He wished he could ease his pup's pain, but all he could do was offer words of comfort. He ran a hand through blonde, sweat-matted hair, a light grumble starting in his chest. 

"Techno's gonna bring him back," Phil whispered into Tommy's crown. Tommy only shuddered, eyes squeezing tightly together. "He's gonna come home, and he'll be okay." Tommy wanted to scream at Phil that he wouldn't be okay. He wouldn't be okay because Phil and Techno would lock him up and he'd never see him again. He... he wouldn't be able to help.

"He won't." Tommy whimpered, throat tight and dry. "He won't be okay because you'll lock him away." Tommy felt Phil stiffen, and he knew he was right. He knew that he would never see Wilbur again and he felt his lip tremble. He knew he would be able to hear Wilbur's screams, and he wouldn't be able to get to him. Tommy felt his breath catch, and he started coughing. 

Phil gently shushed him, rocking forward and back, bringing Tommy closer to himself.

"I don't want you to take him away." Tommy cried, burying his face into Phil's chest. His voice was soft, wavering with each word. He wanted water, but he was too scared to ask. Wilbur would get him water, and snacks. But Wilbur was gone. He wasn't going to see Wilbur again. 

He wished he could've said goodbye. 

Phil was frozen, eyes watering and heart clenching.  I don't want you to take him away.  The words echo in his head, haunting him like the song of a siren. He can hear the leaves outside rustling, the wind humming. 

But on top of all that, he can hear his pup's heartbeat. It's fast, beating against tiny ribs like a rabbit sprinting through snow. But Tommy doesn't move faster as his heart would indicate. He moves slower as if trying to disappear. His movements are sluggish, though his skin is flushed, he feels cold to the touch, a thin layer of sweat covering his skin.

It makes sense, Phil realizes, stomach sinking. That even when terrified, he would want to be small, invisable. It made a cold anger burn through his stomach and up his chest. He had to force himself to remain calm, to not snarl and growl, to bare his teeth and hunt. 

"Why would you think we would lock him away?" Phil asked, keeping his voice level. He brings his hand down to cup Tommy's cheek. He swiped his thumb just under his eyes, brushing away the tears gently. "Did Dream take him away?" He winced when Tommy shuddered, shuffling closer to Phil and tensing. Phil could hear his breath catching, and his heart cracked. 

He nodded, slowly, before stopping himself and holding completely still. Phil sighed, eyes closed. He knew the flood had rushed from his face, but he didn't want Tommy to think he had done anything wrong. 

"We won't take him away, Tommy. No one will ever take him away again, okay?" The wind stopped singing, and in its wake, the leaves stopped rustling. All that could be heard was Tommy's labored breaths and speedy heart. Phil huffed, sitting in a more upright position and cradling Tommy close. He was able to rock better this way, and he brought a hand to gently scratch his back. 

Tommy slowly started relaxing, but Phil could tell he was fighting it, and fighting it hard. 

"But-But what happens i-if Techno can't find him..." Tommy whispered, eyes foggy with tears. "What happens if... what if he doesn't come back." Tommy was sobbing again, but it was silent. Phil could hear him trying to suck in a breath, but he kept cutting himself off when a sound came out. Phil grimaced, rocking side to side before speaking.

"Take a deep breath, Toms." Phil said, forcing his voice to be calm. He forced his heartbeat to steady and began to take in exaggerated breaths. "Just like this." Phil took in another deep and exaggerated breath, waiting for Tommy to copy. He could feel the pup's ribs shaking, and he held him a little closer.

Tommy tried, the breath coming in stunted and shuddering. Phil smiled, saying, "Good job, Toms. That's it, let's do another one, okay?" Tommy nodded, letting it out in a rush and trying again. This went on for ten minutes, each breath the young pup took in was rewarded with praises. Phil's heart ached, and he wished Techno would return with Wilbur soon. 

Everything in him was begging to help Tommy. To stop his sadness, to soothe his worries. But Phil knew better. He knew that no matter how long they had the pups, Tommy would always favor Wilbur. He would always choose Wilbur to ask for help, or for comfort. 

It was all they had known for years. 

.

.

.

The empty howl that sounded through the woods froze Phil to his core.

Techno snarled, eyeing the town. It was bathed in a gentle golden light, the lamposts kind and soothing. It looked just like it had always looked. Peaceful. Calming. Techno knew better now. He knows of what waited in one of those houses. 

He knew his pup was in there somewhere. He knew Wilbur was scared. He could  smell  it. He knew he had to let Phil know, he knew they had to regroup. 

Dream was a hunter, who had come from a long family of hunters. fucking Nightmares, to say the least. He knew how to fend off wolves, knew how to  hurt  them. Technoblade snarled at that idea. The idea of Tommy and Wilbur being hurt by that  thing.  It made the old voices wake, seething and cold. 

Techno snorted, snarling once more before tipping his head back and howling. He knew Phil would hear, and by chance, hopefully, Wilbur. Wilbur needed to know that they were looking. He needed to know not to give up hope. 

Techno paced for a few seconds, trying to figure out if he should head back to the house, or wait at the edge of the woods. He didn't want the scent to go cold, but they needed a plan. 

Fuck. 

They needed to tell Tommy. Techno whimpered at this, turning around and heading back into the woods. He didn't want to think about what Tommy would think when he got back, with Wilbur nowhere in sight. It made something curl up and hide inside of Techno. 

His paws carried him over the forest floor, through the streams, and back to the house. It looked so dull, the color seems to have bled out. The grass looked yellow, and the trees looked like they were hanging their branches. even the moon was hiding behind clouds like she too did not want to watch what was happening. 

Techno shifted, feeling his bones and skin tear and break. As soon as he was back on two legs he opened the back door. He could hear Tommy crying upstairs, his breathing coming in quick gasps and even quicker exhales. He could hear Phil moving around the basement, boxes moving, something clanging to the ground, and a snarled curse. 

He stood frozen, trying to figure out where to go first before deciding to go up the stairs. He kept his feet light, stopping in front of the door to the bedroom. It was cracked open, and techno could smell the fear in the air. 

He could smell the despair, the hurt, the regret, and sadness. Techno wanted to whine, to drop to his knees, and beg the pup for forgiveness. He had a feeling that it wouldn't better the situation if his pup's distress was anything to go by. He racked his knuckles to the door softly before pushing it open. 

Tommy didn't move, if anything he held his breath and curled up into a tighter ball under the covers. Techno frowned, walking slowly over to the pup. 

"Tommy, runt..." Techno mumbled, taking a seat on the bed. He didn't reach to touch, to cradle close. He didn't feel it would serve the situation any good. "Wilbur's gonna be okay, okay? We're going to get him back." 

Tommy sniffed, poking his head out of the blankets. His eyes were red and swollen, and tear tracks scarred his face. He had snot running from his nose, and he was shaking. 

"H-he's not with-with you?" Tommy asked, his heart hammering. 

"No, sweetheart." techno replied, eyes gazing at his feet. "Tommy, I don't want you to be scared, okay? But you need to know." A bitter silence filled the room, and techno was surprised to smell anger coming from the small pup. 

"You p-promised to protect us-us." Tommy growled. Techno was slightly taken aback. Tommy was still shaking, and his heart was still hammering, but it seemed like anger was the winning emotion. 

Techno didn't have an answer, eyes locked onto Tommy's. He watched as the pup bared his small teeth, eyes glinting. Techno knew his mouth was opening and closing, but no words were coming out. 

"You lied to us." 

And those words  burned. 

Phil was opening boxes he once promised to never open again. Swords, muzzles, bows, and staffs. Armor plates from their times as Kings. He heard the door to the basement open, and thundering footsteps coming down. He didn't look up, just dumped the box out onto the ground before moving to the next. 

Techno moved to the other side of the basement, the sound of glass breaking and hitting the floor filling in the silence.

"Tommy said the house with the yellow door and flowers outside was Dream's." Techno said, voice calm. Phil grinned, any warmth gone. He turned after finding what he was looking for. 

It was a veil with long thin metal diamonds decorating it. It was made of an old metal from the Hells, and could withstand almost anything while looking like a piece of fabric. It was Phil's third most prized possession behind his Techno and his pups. 

He threw it around his shoulders, watching as Techno picked up the old sharp and jagged scythe and dark blade. He passed the scythe to Phil, who took it gently, feeling the old magic course through the black wood, lighting up the engravings along the blade and handle in a haunting white. 

Techno's sword was made from the same material as Phil's veil, but it was more solid, defined. The edges were sharp with two jutting angles covered in a gold finish. The base of the sword was a dark purple, swirling with what could only be described as ghosts.  

"Are the voices back?" Phil asked, voice rough and cold. 

"They demand blood, Phil, and they shall have it." Phil nodded, grinning from ear to ear. His teeth were sharp, and he could tell it would be a pain to speak around the fangs of his wolf. 

He placed the scythe on his back, the curved blade sitting high above his head. 

"The town's people can not see us." Phil said, leaning down to the floor to gather braces and boots. He tied them around his forearms, the leather cold and stiff. 

"They won't. We attack as soon as we can and we attack fast." Techno replied. "I want that house painted red in his blood." 

"He's a Nightmare, he'll know we'll come." Phil filled in. "Prepare for silver poisoning, or for him to use..." Phil sucked in a breath, forcing it out. "use Wilbur against us." Techno growled, the sound low in his throat. 

"He won't have the time too." Techno snarled. Phil only nodded, the grin long since vanished from his face. They stood in silence for a few minutes. The souls of Techno's blade whispering and singing. 

"Tommy thinks we lied to him." Techno spoke, eyes cast into the blade. "He might try to leave." Phil let out a breath through his teeth, eyes closing in frustration. 

"We'll run the house before we leave. If he touches... touches the door handles or windows, his skin will burn." Phil whispered. Techno nodded, moving back up the stairs. The armor he wore clanged softly against each other, but the sound still pierced his ears. 

The runes wouldn't  hurt  per se, but they would definitely shock, and any and all trust they had built up would be lost. Phil gated it, hated the idea of runing the house, but it had to be done. 

Best case scenario, Tommy doesn't leave the nest, and he won't know what happened. 

Phil could only hope as he turned off the basement light and walked back up the stairs. He then climbed the second set, walking to the nesting room. 

"Tommy," he called, opening the door. "We're leaving to go find Dream. Do  not  leave this house, understand?" Phil asked, forcing a bite into his words. He hated the idea that he had to and watching Tommy flinch as tears filled his eyes hurt to no end. The pup nodded his head furiously, burrowing into the blankets, hiding his eyes from Phil. 

Phil turned, walking back down the stairs and out the front door, waiting for techno to finish up and come meet him. He wanted to pace, to run, to hold Wilbur and Tommy in his arms and promise them the world. 

He didn't notice techno coming outside till he felt a metal-clad glove on his shoulder. 

"Let's go, Phil. We have no time to waste." Phil chuckled eyes dark. 

"No." He looked out to the forest, eyes catching the last sliver of moonlight before she vanished behind a cloud. "We don't." 

Chapter Text

Wilbur followed Dream through the forest, his wrist clasped tightly in a white-gloved hand. Wilbur kept his eyes trained on the ground, watching sticks, leaves, and rocks pass under their feet. He knew he was shaking, but he didn't know if it was the cold, biting dread, or the burning hatred. 

He was scared, so maybe it was from that, or maybe it was the exhaustion? Wil didn't know anymore as he stumbled over a root. All Dream did was tighten his grasp, pulling harshly and dragging the pup over the hard ground. Wilbur barely got his feet under him when they hit pavement, shoes scuffing over the rocks. 

"Couldn't save him, could you, mutt? He bleed out? Was he scared?" Dream snarled grip tighetining. Wilbur knew he would bruise, he knew his hand would hurt. He held back a cry as he felt something crunch, his fingers flexing. 

Dream didn't let up, a grim smile taking his lips. 

"Did he  cry , Wilbur? Did he  scream ? Did he ask you to make it  stop ?" Dream laughed, the sound haunting. "I bet you were scared, weren't you?" He snarled, jerking Wilbur hard. He tripped over his feet, falling to the ground but was snapped back up with a harsh movement. He heard his shoulder pop, and tears sprung to his eyes.  

But there was no time to let the tears fall before he was dragged across the ground again. He could feel the pavement digging into his legs and bit his tongue to keep from falling out. He didn't stop biting till blood bloomed in his mouth, coating his tongue in a bitter copper taste. 

He felt the tears running down his cheeks, and he tried to stifle his sniffles as they approached the well-manicured lawn. The grass was still a too vibrant shade of green, the flowers too colorful, and the door too bright to be anything good. Wilbur couldn't stop his heart rate from picking up, beating against his ribs like the wings of a butterfly. 

Dream forced him up the small step onto the porch before throwing the door open. It slammed against the door, no doubt breaking a hole into the wall that Wilbur would be blamed for later. Dream pulled Wilbur into the house, grabbing the door and slamming it closed. 

The sound echoed through the house, shaking the walls and making the pictures on the walls shake. Cups and plates somewhere in the kitchen rattled, the china clinking against each other, creating a choir of despair. 

Wilbur flinched, fighting off the whine climbing up his throat. Dream stood by the door, hair falling over his eyes and he inhaled a long and slow breath. He let it out slowly, letting go of Wilbur to push his hair away from his eyes. 

He turned to look at Wilbur who hadn't moved, eyes staring straight at the floor. He tried to keep the tears away, but he felt them slipping down his cheeks and falling to the tile. Dream's chuckle felt like forks on glass and it caused him to flinch, lowering his head and raising his shoulders. He wanted to hide, to burrow under something, and never come out. 

Dream grinned, and it was all teeth. Wilbur swallowed, eyes glued to a speck of dirt on the floor.  That shouldn't be there. The house should be spotless. 

"Wilbur, do you have  any  idea how  worried  I was? I searched  everywhere  for you." Dream purred, and it sounded exactly like the rattle on a snake. A warning, and a threat. 

He shook his head no, eyes looking for other specks of dirt. 

"I looked everywhere for you." Dream whispered, stalking around to the front of Wilbur. He hooked a finger under his chin and  yanked.  Wilbur had no choice but to make eye contact, and it set everything on edge. 

Dream probably could have been a very pretty man, but  something happened.  Some sort of fight. A long clean scar ran through his cheek, and four dark dots littered his left eye. Wilbur thought he could see smaller paler scars along his eye bone and brow bone, but he wasn't sure. Whatever it was that had attacked him had left his eye  mangled . 

The bottom eyelid dropped, exposing red flesh and blood vessels. The eye itself looked deformed, and the beautifully cruel jade had faded to an almost yellow in proper light. His neck was covered in jagged thick scars, running from his ear to his collar bones. 

His smile was crooked, and his nose looked like it had been broken time and time again. 

It was the face that would always haunt Wilbur's dreams, the face that Tommy would never have to see again. 

A slap across the face broke Wilbur from his thoughts, and he cried out as his head snapped to the side. 

"Are you even listening, beast?" Dream snapped, eyes flaming. Wilbur knew better than to lie, and shook his head. It made Dream step back, a sudden calm coming to his features. 

"Follow me, now." He said, turning on his heel and walking towards the kitchen. Wilbur did, keeping his steps quiet. He could see the dishes in the sink and tilted his head. 

Those need to be cleaned, why aren't they cleaned?  He almost stopped to go do them before the sound of a door opening lifted him from his stupor. 

Dream stood next to the door to the basement, eyes gleaming and teeth shining. 

"You'll be staying down here from now on. Don't worry, I already moved all your...  stuff  down there." Wilbur nodded, and he tried to shake the fear away. 

Dream nodded to the steps and when Wilbur didn't move he sighed, grabbed him, and pushed him through the door. Wilbur barely caught himself but it didn't matter since he skipped the second step and tumbled down. He felt something crack and then heard it before slamming against the cold concrete floor. 

"Don't worry," Dream snarled. "You'll heal." And he slammed the basement door shut, leaving the pup in total darkness.

It had been an hour since Techno and Phil left. It had been an hour and Tommy hadn't moved. He still lay curled up in the blankets, eyes staring but not seeing the door on the other side of the room. every scratch of the trees on the wood outside made him whimper, and he was struggling to keep his breathing even. 

The sun had set, and the darkness slipped into the room like snakes. Tommy never did like the dark, but it was always his favorite time of the day. It was the only time he and Wilbur felt safe. It was the only time that the monster Dream had left them alone. But now, he wasn't so sure. Because now Wilbur  wasn't  here. He was gone. He had  run away.  And he had left Tommy behind.

Wilbur had made a promise once, that no matter what, he would always take Tommy with him. That no matter what happened, he wouldn't leave Tommy behind. He had made the promise after the first week at Dream's. Tommy doesn't think Wilbur knows he remembers, because why would he? But he does. He remembers those words so specifically. 

"I promise, Toms." Wilbur had whispered, voice shaking. "I promise we will get out of this. I'm never going to leave you here, okay?" Tears had streamed down his face, and they dropped onto Tommy's forehead. Tommy didn't know much, but he knew he needed to make Wilbur feel better and that had resulted in him putting a hand on his cheek, patting it lightly, and smiling. 

Tommy now knows how  empty  words would be. 

He stifles a cry and shakes his head, tears filling his eyes that he furiously blinks away. He shakily climbs out of the blankets before pushing them away. They land with a soft thump on the floor and Tommy is surprised to find that it's even a bed at all. He climbs down, landing softly on the blankets before he feels the cold wood floor.

He scrambles to the door and opens it, running for his old room. When he gets there he pulls the blankets and pillows that smell most like Wilbur to the nesting room and places them on top of the other blankets. He takes a deep breath, ignoring the scratching sound coming from outside. He looks around the room, head tilted up and smelling the air.

He doesn't know what he's looking for, so he follows his nose. He finds an old red cloak, with white fox fur lining the neckline. It smells richly of Techno. Of old leather book and musty pages, of cinnamon. He pulls the cloak off the hanger, bringing it back to the mess of cloth on the floor. 

He then starts looking through the mess of blankets on the floor, nose trying to find where the smell of ink and rain was coming from. He found it in a green faded kimono. He huffed, bringing it to his nose before shoving it under the bed. He slid pillows under after and then the red cloak. 

He was careful with whatever smelled like Wilbur, pushing it under the bed slowly. 

And once everything he deemed worthy was shoved under the wooden bed frame, he crawled under as well, rearranging the blankets under him, and around him. He had the pillows curled around him in a triangle-like pattern. 

He then throws the cloak, kimono, and Wilbur's blanket over them before settling in the middle. 

It smells  safe.  It smells like  home.  Tommy sniffles, tears springing to his eyes again. He doesn't fight them this time. He lets them slide down his face as he cuddles up to makeshift Wilbur. He wraps his arms around the pillow, burying his face in the soft fabrics. 

If you get it covered with you're snot and tears, it'll never smell like him again. 

This thought made the pup recoil, a sob escaping his lips. In the dark, under the bed, no one would see or hear him cry, so it was safe to let the yowling cries leave his lips. He turned away from Wilbur, wanting to cherish his scent for a little while longer. For all he knew, he would never see him again. 

He pushed the pillow and blanket away from the others, trying to keep it safe, and separate, He wanted Wilbur's smell to be forever. He didn't want to let it go. He didn't want to  forget . 

He turned to the makeshift Phil and Techno and cried into the well-worn fabrics. They weren't as soft, but he wouldn't have to worry about running out of their scent. It was  everywhere  in the house, and he could always go and find more. 

His cries didn't subside when he rubbed his face through the cloak, nor did it subside when the wind increased. His cries continued, and he lay curled under the bed, shaking and shivering. 

He didn't know how long he lay under the bed, clutching the pillows and blankets like his life depended on it. He didn't know how long he lay there crying and sobbing, but eventually, the tears dried up, the shaking subsided, and he just lay there. His eyes were closing, and he could feel the pull of sleep tugging on his mind when he heard it.

"Tommyyyy~"  Tommy knew that voice. But... but it was impossible! Techno and Phil were out looking for him!  "Tommy, where are you?"  Tommy flinched, peeking up around the green kimono. He couldn't see anything beyond the dark blob of blankets at the foot of the bed, but he could hear the floorboards creaking, and if he focused hard enough he could see the dark outline of feet standing at the edge of the bed. 

He flinched back, fear crawling up his spine, curling around his throat. His fingers turned white with how hard he was holding onto Philza's green kimono. 

He watched as the silhouetted legs walked around the bed, stopping occasionally and shuffling. 

"Tommy, why are you hiding from me?"  Dream asked, voice like a siren's song, begging for the pup to crawl out from his hiding place.  "I know you want to be with Wilbur again, don't you?"  Tommy stifled a whine, reaching behind him with stiff arms to grab Wilbur's blanket and wrap it around himself. 

"It's such a shame that he doesn't want to be around you anymore though."  Dream sung.  "He ran away from you, left you behind." Tommy was shaking again, and he bit down on his hand to keep from crying out, to keep from shouting out that he was wrong. 

He was right.  Wilbur did leave him behind and ran away. 

"Come back home with me, Toms. I'll make sure you're never separate again."  Tommy covered his ears with his hands, shaking his head. He didn't want to listen to Dream. Wilbur promised he would never be hurt by him again. 

"Tommy, Wilbur's gone."  Dream replied, but... Tommy hadn't said anything. He knew he didn't say anything because blood was dripping from around his lips where he was biting his hand. he heard a heavy thud and looked to his right. 

He could see the sharp glint of a jade green eye and the pale white of the other. A harsh smile followed all teeth and gleaming white. 

"Wilbur’s not coming back for you."  Dream snarled, and reached a hand under the bed. His fingers were curled like claws and they scratched the wood, making a horrible scraping sound. 

At this Tommy did scream and he scrambled to the back wall, as far away from the claws as he could muster. His chest was heaving, his lungs constricting. He could feel his heart hammering against his ribs, the bones feeling like they would crack. 

His stomach lurched and he screamed again when Drema started laughing. It was loud, and it made everything in Tommy stand on alert, telling him to run and run and run and don't look back. 

But Dream was in the way, and there was no way he could reach the door in time before being grabbed. He didn't want to be grabbed by Dream. Never again.  Please ... never again. 

He cried out again when Dream reached under the bed again, nails scratching against the wood. He clutched the blanket around his shoulders tightly, screaming for him to get away. To leave him alone. He begged and cried, snot running down his face as he coughed and hacked. 

Phil and Techno were supposed to find him. They were supposed to get rid of him. They were supposed to bring Wilbur back! Dream shouldn't be here, he should be with Techno and Phil. He should be in the ground. He should be where his parents are. He shouldn't be  here. 

"GO AWAY!" He screamed, his lungs burning. His voice echoed off the walls in a way Dream's didn't. "Go away! Go away! Go away!" Dream just laughed, voice steady and strong. 

"Why would I ever do that, Tommy? Why would I leave you behind? Do you think I'm like Wilbur? Do you think I would leave you behind?"  And... and Tommy didn't know what to say. 

Dream had come here, looking for him, and Wilbur had left. Wilbur didn't come back, but Dream did, and that... no. No. No!

He turned his head, burying his head into the blankets at the wall. He covered his ears, whispering into the blankets about Phil and Techno. How'd they come back and they'd get rid of Dream once and for all. It was all he could do to stay awake, the pain in his chest and his lungs  suffocating. 

But he would out last it. He had to. For Techno, for Phil. 

For Wilbur. 

Chapter Text

It was dark. That was the first thing Wilbur noticed. Then he noticed the smell. It was musky and wet, and there was mold  everywhere.  He felt a stinging pain lighting up his ribs, and a dull throb under his eyes. He closed his eyes, sucking in a small clipped breath, feeling the burn swarm in his lungs. 

His stomach lurched and he rolled to his side, gasping in pain as his ribs lit up like firecrackers. He wanted to cough, but he didn't know if that would make anything better. So he held it, feeling his diaphragm spasm as he curled up on the ground. It didn't matter in the end as a wrack of vicious coughs overtook him. 

Each cough ripped through him like knives, and each flash of pain made his eyes water till tears were streaming down his face. He could feel snot running from his nose, making it hard to breathe between the coughing and gagging. 

He felt cries bubbling up his throat, slipping past his lips and echoing in the musty basement. His ribs ached and his lungs burned, but the tears wouldn't stop, and he couldn't breathe. He wiped his face on the collar of his shirt, trying to make way for  air. 

It didn't really matter, as whatever was wiped away was replaced in seconds. It was very much like cutting the head off a hydra and having three more take its place. 

Sobs filled the room, each one louder than the last as the boy shook. He could feel  every  bruise along his skin, he could feel every crack in his bones. He could feel the needles in each breath he took. Wilbur didn't know if the burning would ever go away, didn't know if he would be able to lay down and feel comfortable again.

As his eyes adjusted to the dark he noticed that his small 'bed' and been thrown in a corner. It was really just a mattress with a shabby blanket on top. A pitiful whine escaped his lips, and he crawled over to the bed, burying his face into the dirty mattress. There were blood and dirt stains that would  never  come out, no matter how hard he scrubbed. 

He fell onto the mattress with a sob, curling up into a ball, resting his head on his knees. 

Everything  hurt. And it wasn't going to stop. Not now, probably not ever. Wilbur let one more sob escape his lips before sucking in a deep breath. He held it for as long as he could, feeling his heart slow down as he exhaled slowly, counting to ten. He did it again, this time inhaling for four seconds, and holding for as long as he could. 

As his heart slowed down, his eyelids got heavier, his breathing evened out, and sleep curled around him. It was warm and soft, and he  never  wanted to wake up. It was a warm kind of dark that swept over him, cradling him close. It was the kind of warmth that reminded him of drinking too hot hot chocolate.

Feeling the burn in his belly that always made drinking the hot beverage worth it. 

He snuggled into the mattress, exhaling one last time before he wasn't aware of anything. Not the mattress, or the bruises. Not the headache behind his eyes, or his stuffy nose. Just... warmth. 

When he awoke, curled up on the dirty mattress, he only had time to notice one thing. The door to the basement was open, letting in a line of harsh white light. He scrambled to his feet, padding over to the stairs. The light was  blinding,  but it was  light . He walked up the steps, making sure to be extra quiet. 

Dream never liked when he and Tommy made much noise. He had a feeling it would be ten times worse now. When he reached the first floor, he looked at the kitchen, seeing the dishes were still dirty he made his way over.  

The dishes had to be  clean.  That was one of the many rules he had to follow. He also had to make sure all the rooms were nice and clean, and make (he looked at the clock, seeing it tick right to six) breakfast. 

He turned on the sink, looking through the dirty plates and bowls, seeing the forks and spoons as well. There weren't any knives... which meant Dream must have cleaned them, or he didn't use any recently. Wilbur hummed, turning on the sink and watching it fill with water, picking up the liquid soap, he poured some into the water, watching it bubble. 

His mind turned blank, the only thought repeating through his head, "clean the dishes, make breakfast, make Dream happy, go to sleep." He got through the dishes with relative ease, drying them with a small towel and putting them away in their cupboards. 

It was when he was draining the sink and opening the fridge that he heard rustling upstairs. Dream was awake. 

And breakfast wasn't made. 

Wilbur sucked in a breath, grabbed the eggs and some bacon, and turned on the stove. He placed two skillets down, hovering his hand over them both, waiting for the air above to warm. 

As soon as it felt warm enough he cracked two eggs into a bowl, stirring them together quickly. He added salt and pepper before pouring the eggs into the pan. he heard it sizzle and bubble, and he headed back to the fridge to grab the cheese. 

He grabbed a few slices of bacon, throwing them onto the skillet. He heard them pop and then turned back to the eggs. Adding cheese to one side he then folded the omelet, flipping it to the other side to allow it to finish cooking. He grabbed a glass plate, plating the omelet, and setting it on the table. 

He grabbed some silver where and then returned to the bacon, making sure it wouldn't burn and would get just the right amount of crispiness. Dream always liked his bacon a little chewier, so when Wilbur deemed it done he grabbed the bacon and put them on some paper towels he snagged from the counter. He waited for it cool, ears listening to the creaking steps as Dream shuffled down. 

He added the bacon to the eggs before pulling the chair back and stepping back to the wall. He turned to the stove, making sure he turned it off and sighed in relief when he noticed he did. 

Looking at the clock on the wall, he watched as the minute hand hung around six-fifty-three. Dream's thudding feet landed on the first floor and he turned into the kitchen with sharp eyes. 

Wilbur didn't have time to sweep, but he made breakfast, so he hoped it would appease him long enough for Wilbur to start sweeping the floors. 

"The dishes have been cleaned... food is made..." Dream hummed, eyes catching a deadly glint. "Well done Wilbur, well done." Dream growled, walking to the table and taking a seat. He started to dig in, eating slowly. 

Wilbur watched from the corner, watching as he chewed. His eyes were narrowed, and he swallowed loudly. Wilbur stood as still as he could, trying to fight the shaking of his hands as Dream  slowly  took another bite. 

Wilbur flinched when Dream moaned, leaning back in his chair. 

"This is delicious,  Wilbur ." Dream said, teeth glinting off the light when he grinned. Wilbur watched as Dream dug into his food, moaning after every bite. He waited until he was finished, taking the plate and utensils, walking towards the sink. 

He kept his eyes down, grabbing Dream's sponge and moving to clean off the grease. He kept his ears trained on Dream, listening to each slow intake of breath. He glanced up to follow Dream's legs when he stood, following as he walked away from the table down the hall. He turned his head over his shoulder, grinning like the Cheshire cat.

"I have something for you, Wilbur. Wait right there." Dream sung, footsteps echoing down the hall and into the mudroom. He heard Dream grunt a little, and he watched with his head cocked as Dream came back into the kitchen with a black trash bag over his shoulder. 

He dropped it onto the tile, and Wilbur flinched when it made a wet squelch sound when it hit the floor. He looked up to see Dream's crooked smile and he looked down again, eyes following the lines of the tile. 

"These are your clothes from now on." Dream said. "Now, you know the rules, right? No dirty clothes in this house." Dream walked around the bag, squatting down in front of Wilbur, catching his eyes. He fished around in his pocket, grabbing a key and holding it in front of his face. 

"This is the key to the laundry room." Dream said, eyes swirling with disgust. "You are not allowed in that room,  do you understand ?" He snarled. Wilbur nodded, eyes wide. "I do not care how you clean the rest of your clothes, but I better not  see it ," He snapped. "You understand, right?" 

"Yes, Sir," Wilbur responded, eyes glancing down to the floor. 

"Good!" Dream chirped, standing up and clasping his hands onto Wilbur's shoulders. "Now, you know your chores, so I'll let you get to that. Lunch will need to be served at eleven-forty-one." Wilbur nodded, moving to grab the broom and mop out of the closet by the front door. 

He could feel Dream's eyes drilling holes in his back, and he swallowed around his beating heart. 

It had been a few hours, and Wilbur had just gotten done serving dinner. He was cleaning up the kitchen, and he grabbed his new bag of clothes and brought them to the sink. He undid the straps tying the top up and grabbed the first few articles of clothing he found. 

None of the clothes looked like they fit, and were defiantly hand-me-downs, but what shocked Wilbur was the fact that they were covered in mud, and what smelled like piss. He wrinkled his nose, face flushing as shoved the clothes back into the bag. 

He looked around the house, noticing Dream was upstairs and he decided it was best to do this outside, he opened the back door, leaving it open so he could listen for Dream. 

He walked into the garden, grabbed the hose pulling it out to the edge of the yard. He then brought the bag of clothes, leaning it against the fence. He turned the water on and kinked the hose, making his way to the end of the hose and bag of disgusting clothes. 

The sun was just beginning to go down, casting the yard in a warm golden light. The house was anything but  warm.  He started with a shirt, then some shorts and underwear, blasting them with the hose as he went.

He would need to grab the soap, and a bucket later, but for now, he just needed to get the majority of the mud, piss and shit off the clothes. It would be a good start, Wilbur thinks, mind turning into a pleasant blank buzz. 

He doesn't have to think about what he's doing, he just has to keep an ear out for Dream. As he goes through different clothes, his mind turns off, ears even tuning in to the constant buzz of his head. He was able to spray all the clothes and he started laying them out where he knew the sun would hit. 

He didn't hear Dream walk outside, he only heard the door slam. It caused him to tense, his muscles tightening, and his heart pounding. He felt his ribs ache, along with his lungs, and his stomach dropped into feet. 

" What, " Dream growled lowly. "The hell... do you  think  you're  doing ?" Wilbur froze, eyes lighting up in fear as he looked over his shoulder to look at Dream. His face was twisted in a snarl, eyes  blazing.  His lips were downturned, the veins along his neck  bulging. 

"I-I was cleaning the clothes, Sir." Wilbur said, voice low and soft, in fear of choking on his tongue. That just seemed to just piss Dream off more, his eyes narrowing and lips pulling up to reveal unnaturally sharp teeth. 

"Did I give you permission to go outside, Wilbur?" Dream said, walking a few steps into the yard before stopping. "Did I tell you, you could use the hose?" Wilbur couldn't answer, tongue-tied in knots. 

Dream moved the last few steps forward, grabbing Wilbur by his hair. This caused the pup to wince, but he bit back any other sound as he was dragged into the house, the hose still pouring water in the garden. 

Dream shoved him into the house, slamming the door to the garden closed. "Did I  tell  you, you could use the hose?" Dream repeated. 

"N-No, Sir." Wilbur stuttered, chest squeezing and stomach sinking. 

"Then why did you?" Dream was still pulling him into the house by his hair, his scalp stinging. 

"I needed to clean the clothes." Wilbur gasped out. The air in his lungs shaking his words. "Not allowed to wear dirty clothes, needed to clean them." Dream just laughed, eyes glinting with malicious intent. 

"That's right, Wilbur." He snarled. Dream shoved his head down when they reached the living room, and Wilbur had half a sense of mind to stay still. Dream walked over to the bookshelves, grabbing a thick phone book. 

Wilbur felt his throat bob. He knew what was going to come, he knew it was going to hurt. But he also knew that Tommy  wasn't  here. Tommy was safe, with Phil and Technoblade. Tommy was safe, miles away from Dream. Tommy was  safe. 

"You just can't seem to do anything right, can you?" He asked, purred more like it. "Give me your hand." Wilbur did, letting Dream's cold hand clasp around his wrist like a shackle. He pulled forward harshly, making the pup stumble. 

He placed Wilbur's fingers on the pages. As Wilbur looked down he could make out a few numbers. 890-9988 and 7623 were staring at him between his pointer and middle. He wondered what those numbers went to, who they would call. He wondered if they were any nicer than Techno and Phil.

He doubted that. He didn't think anyone could be as nice as Techno and Phil. 

"You monsters need to start listening." Dream drawled, hands grabbing either side of the book. Wilbur held his hand there, trying his best to keep still. He knew it would break his fingers, it  always  did. 

Dream didn't give him much time to prepare, slamming the book closed as hard as he could. Wilbur could hear the crunch of his bones as they knocked together and were displaced. He could feel his skin bruising, the blood cramped and tight. 

Wilbur cried out, yanking his hand back from the closed book so hard it tore the pages. He cradled his broken fingers close to his chest, tears filling his eyes. 

Not good enough.

Never good enough.

Disgusting. 

He could faintly hear Dream roaring over his thoughts, yelling and screaming about how bad he was, and how he couldn't do anything right. How it was his fault Tommy  died .

Died? 

Tommy didn't die. But Dream wouldn't know that. Dream couldn't know that. 

And that brought something warm to Wilbur's chest as he was dragged by his aching hand to the basement steps. Warmth that flooded his body as he was thrown down the stairs, body crashing against each step before spilling onto the cold floor. 

Dream didn't know Tommy was alive. And that was good enough for Wilbur. 

Not too far away from the neighborhood, two wolves sat. Their ears pitched forward, eyes sharp. They had heard the cries of their pup. They knew exactly where he was. 

The two wolves shook their coats, snapping their jaws once... twice. 

Tomorrow day, would not see Dream alive. But the sun would reflect his blood.