#I'm so soft that it fills me with terror to put a sticker on a thing | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

moochi04 · 2 months ago

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(So this is the backstory for Wilbur in my fic, I thought it works as a oneshot so I'm deciding to post it here as well.)

Wilbur doesn't like the lab. He hadn't really known anywhere else, so he didn't have much to compare it to. But that one thought still held. He didn't like it here, not one bit. It's almost constantly cold, the hospital gowns they shoved him in didn't help with that. He was used to shivering under a single white sheet, glaring at the men and women in pristine white lab coats who looked at him with cool interest, clipboards tucked under their armpits.

He didn't speak to them, he didn't like the way they looked at him when he spoke, he used his eyes to send the message instead. He repeated it in his mind over and over again like a chant. Go away, go away, go away, go away, go away. They didn't listen. They stood rigidly before him, tugging up sleeves and sliding syringes into his arm, with sharp pricks that made him silently cry. They left with the crimson fluid, putting cotton over the injury so no more of his precious blood would spill out. No more than what they would take away in vials. He wondered bitterly why they stuck him full of needles. Why was he the one they set upon the cold metal table? Why was his blood so special?

The doctors treated him like he was an object instead of a child. They spoke about a whole host of different experiments that Wilbur couldn't begin to understand. They talked about dissection. Dissection. Wilbur didn't know what the word meant but it filled him with terror. He would cower even further into the cool metal table they placed him on and try not to cry. They didn't like it when he cried.

They decided against dissection. Too risky. Too wasteful. There were still other avenues they hadn't tried yet. The boy would be compliant. He would have to be.

Thus started the animal trials.

Wilbur was dragged down winding identical halls by his wrist. Twisting, twisting, turning, it made him feel dizzy. The coat that billowed behind the man that held Wilbur's wrist in his firm grasp would flap Wilbur in the face, causing him to stumble. The man would lift him back up, and Wilbur would feel the burn in his shoulder as he barked at the boy to "hurry up". It was hard for a boy with such short legs to keep up with a man full grown.

Wilbur is tugged into a room lined with cages. Wilbur's eyes lingered on each one with wonder. Each cage had an animal shoved inside, ones he'd only seen in picture books. There was fur of every hue, claws and beaks and feathers. Beady black eyes that peered at him through bars. He wanted to stop at every cage, learn the name of every animal, feel the soft fur under the meat of his palm.

Wilbur was harshly tugged forward, brought to the middle of the room. There were more men and women in lab coats, clipboards at the ready. Some of them moved to meet him. They tugged his shirt up and over his head, placing stickers on his chest and his temples before going back to their seats, speaking to one another in excited hushed whispers.

"What's the hold up," A deep, somewhat bored voice spoke up rather loudly, making Wilbur jump in his skin. He turned to see a man in a suit sitting amongst the scientists. He wore a scowl, and held a flask in his hand. He swirled it in his hands before throwing it back and taking a swig from its contents. "You promised me a show," A sharp unfriendly smile spread across his face, "I intend for you to keep your word. Need to know where my hard earned dollars are goin' after all."

A dark skinned doctor spoke up, looking rather nerveous and fiddling around with his fingers. "Yes, well um, we just need a couple more seconds to set up- and-"

The man in the suit raised an eyebrow and the doctor's voice cut off abruptly. He took another swig from his flask. "Ponk, I'm still waiting." Wilbur could sense the threat in the man's voice.

Ponk immediately leapt into action, going to one of the cages and scooping up a small rodent. A hamster maybe? It wriggled around in the man's hands trying to break free, but the doctor just adjusted his finger tips so it couldn't break out. He was careful as he placed it in a clear plastic enclosure in front of Wilbur. There were wood shavings in there as well as an excersise wheel. It was sparsely furnished, there to serve one particular use.

Ponk knelt in front of Wilbur so they were at eye level with one another. "Okay Wilbur, we're going to try a knew experiment today." He must've seen Wilbur's body stiffen, because the man's face softens, "You don't have to worry, no needles today. Just little fuzzy animals." He forces a smile. "Now, I need you to use your voice today, okay? Can you do that for me?"

Wilbur just stares blankly at the man, his lips sealed tightly shut. Ponk acts like he doesn't notice. "Alright, it's really simple. All I need you to do is to tell mister hamster here to go take a run on his wheel, okay? He ate far too much hamster food so he needs to burn off the calories. Just tell him to go for a little run."

Ponk stands back to his feet and moves behind Wilbur, leaving Wilbur to stare at the little rodent snuffling around in his new enclosure. He darts this way and that, stopping at the corners lifting up his head to sniff the open air. Ponk squeezed his shoulder, to signal for him to start, but all Wilbur could focus on were the eyes boring into the back of his head. Wilbur stood stock still, maybe then the man would stop staring.

Wilbur felt another squeeze before a voice whispers next to his ear, "Just tell mister hamster to go for a jog. We're all counting on you, Wilbur."

Wilbur doesn't take his eyes off the hamster, his mouth stubbornly stayed closed. He couldn't use his words. He didn't like the way it felt. It scared him. He couldn't. They couldn't make him. They couldn't make him.

"Is the boy a half wit?" He heard the gruff man in a suit bark from behind him. Heavy footsteps were followed by firm hands, grabbing his shoulders and yanking him around. Wilbur was met with two sunken eyes, slicked back hair and mutton chops, "You heard him, tell the damn rodent to run."

The meaty fingers pressed into his shoulders so hard it was starting to hurt. Wilbur couldn't help the way his eyes were starting to well up, and quickly looked at the ground, blinking back the beginnings of tears. A hand left his shoulder, being placed on his chin instead, yanking his face back up to look at the angry man in the suit. The man's eyes appraised him for a few moments before he roughly pulled his hands away. "Pathetic." He stood up and walked away, kicking a plastic chair over on his way out, "I better start seeing results by the end of the month Ponk," His eyes flashed with words unsaid. Commination. Ponk's hands trembled as the man slammed the door behind him.

He looked at Wilbur and gave a strained smile. "We'll just have to try something else then."

~~~~~

They tried somthing else. Lots of things really. Each more unpleasant than the last. Wilbur almost wishes he'd just listened, but his fear of words was still too strong. His tongue stayed planted to the roof of his mouth, his lips stayed sealed. Ponk comes up with different solutions.

Wilbur wears another thin hospital gown, as he's strapped to a hospital bed. It's a bed on wheels. He feels a bit dizzy as they push him down the halls bringing him to yet another room. One filled with more beeping equipment and doctors, this time they wore blue scrubs instead of white coats. There was another bed in the room, just like his own, but it was so covered by doctors he couldn't tell if there was anyone on it. Was there another kid?

Doctor Ponk marched into the room and the bodies part giving him room to walk through. Wilbur finally gets to catch a glimpse of what was lying on the bed. He stared at it curiously. A warm ball of orange, head resting on its paws, ears pressed to the back of its head. Wilbur recognized it. It was a fox.

Ponk smiled down at Wilbur. "Wilbur, meet our new friend. You can call him Alphonse."

Wilbur stared at the animal with fascination wanting desperatlely to run his hands through its fur. Ponk seemed to pick up on it and patted Wilbur on the head, "Maybe when we're done, I can let you pet him."

Wilbur nodded his head vigerously. That's what he wanted in that moment. More than anything.

More than anything.

~~~~~

Alphonse sagged in Wilbur's hands, foam dribbling out from between his teeth. Tears cascaded down Wilbur's face as he ran his hand through the animal's fur. It was soft. Like he'd thought it would be. It's eyes stayed open, staring at nothing.

Ponk tried coaxing the carcass out of his grip, "Come on Wilbur, he's tired, let me go put him somwhere he can take a nap."

Wilbur wasn't stupid. He knew the animal was dead. It was dead because of him. Because of what they did to it.

"Wilbur..."

Wilbur ignores the rest, instead focusing on his hands carding through soft fur. It was still warm.

~~~~~

"Wilbur meet our new friend, Bonny."

~~~~~

Bonny didn't last much longer than Alphonse as they shot Wilbur's blood into her veins. Wilbur heard her pained yelps before she twitched into silence. He was almost relieved when the noises finally stopped.

~~~~~

"Meet Carlos."

~~~~~

"This is our new friend Duke."

~~~~~

"Wilbur, this is Enzo"

~~~~~

Ponk looks tired when he introduces the new fox. Like he's been stretched too thin and now he was fraying at the edges. "Wilbur, this is our new friend Fundy."

Wilbur didn't bother looking at the new animal. He already knew how this was going to go, and so too, did Ponk. The room smelled like sharp chemicals and bleach. Like death. Like experiments gone wrong, and faliure upon faliure.

The young boy heard the doctor whispering to himself in the corner as the people in blue scrubs methodically got ready for something they'd already done a half dozen times before. "This has to work. This is going to work. It's going to work..." Ponks fingers danced around in his lap as his mumbles lapse into something unintelegible.

Wilbur feels numb as he stares at the ceiling willing the experiment to be over. He barely feels when they stab him with needles for the umpteenth time. He feels numb as they mix his blood with some other solution. He barely registers when they stab the syringe into the baby fox's paw. Fundy, the name comes unbidden.

The wounded yelping begins and Wilbur is snapped back to reality. Tears readily flow down his face as he sobs for the baby animal. He watches it thrash around and he wants to scream. He wants to scream for them to stop. They were killing him. Didn't they care that they were killing him? None of the doctors payed the sobbing boy any mind, instead they crowded around the scared and dying baby fox, waiting with bated breath. Because....

The fox wasn't dying.

It thrashed and it screamed. It seized and it yelped. But... it kept on breathing.

Ponk stands up on shaking feet, before rushing up to the fox and brushing the doctors aside, so that he stood in front of the animal. The convulsions started to die down, and the kit gave a low whine, looking up at Ponk listlessly. "Shit." Ponk wastes no time, kneeling down next to Fundy and fumbling for his stethescope and placing it on the animal's chest. He barely breathed as he listened, the other scientists quietly waited for the verdict. A child tried to quell his shaky hiccups to no avail.

Ponk pulls the stethescope away slowly, purposefully, before looking up at his colleagues. "It worked." It came out quietly, barely a breathe, but then he stands up with a wide smile that he turns toward Wilbur, and this time his voice is full and boisterous, "It worked!"

~~~~~

Annitially, they tried to house Wilbur and Fundy in separate units, but as time went on, they realized they couldn't keep up with Fundy's... changes. Fundy was no longer the fox kit he used to be, Wilbur's blood had made sure of that. Now Fundy walked on two legs. He had apposable thumbs. And most importantly, he had a voice. A fox capable of speech... Who knew.

Fundy wasn't anything more than a toddler now, but he was outgrowing his cage. It didn't seem right to keep him locked up in a crate of metal, the scientists decided. What better place to put him than with his donor? Ponk was the one to escort him.

Wilbur sat in the corner of his room on a colorful mat covered in books. He was flipping through the same pages he'd seen hundreds of times before, plastered with animals of every species. He hears the door thud open, and he immediatlely looks up to see Ponk standing in the doorway.

"Hello Wilbur." Ponk waits the natural time for a response, but as he's come to expect, Wilbur does not give an answer. "I've brought someone with me today. A new play partner for you." This catches Wilbur's attention. He sets his book down, and look's at Ponk expectantly.

"Okay Fundy, you can come out now." Ponk says to something on the other side of the door.

Immediately, a shock of orange dashes between Ponks legs almost causing him to fall flat on his face. He immediately scurries over to Wilbur and leans in close, eyes inches away from Wilburs. He sniffs the air a couple times, nose twitching in curiousity. "Hi."

"Personal space, Fundy." Ponk scolds from the back of the room. Fundy takes half a step backwards and Ponk sighs in defeat.

"Hi."

Ponk thought he heard wrong at first, but no, he'd heard correct. Wilbur extended is hand out to the Fox child, his disused voice cracking a bit with the strain of it. "I'm Wilbur."

~~~~~

Wilbur doesn't remember ever having a friend before. He doesn't ever remember having a family. But, he figures it might feel something like this. Like the fuzzy furred boy who always snuck into his bed at night, like romping around and roughhousing on the carpet til one of them yelped, like making silly faces at eachother to ignore the needles poking into their arms. Wilbur and Fundy were separate entities entirely, but in that space and time, they were one and the same. Two boys utterly entwined by whispered jokes and secret languages.

Sometimes Ponk would take them outside of their room of pastels and stuffed toys. It wouldn't be for sharp pin pricks or cotton swabs, he took them out for other more joyful reasons. He took them to places they'd never been before. A walk in freezer that was so cold, that frost gathered around in heaps and they could use them as make shift snow balls. He took them to a place with a huuuuuuge television screen, and they watched a silly movie together, while Ponk kept handing them sweet things to eat.

Ponk took them to a place full of plants. Wilbur and Fundy chased one another through the foliage, laughing and giggling all the way. Ponk watched them with a small smile, almost sad on the edges. But Wilbur is a bit too preocupied with his fun to pay any mind to the expression. He taunts Fundy as he quickens his pace, running deeper into the mini forest. He kept looking behind him to make sure the little kit didn't catch up, that he failed to notice the imposing black suit in front of him until it was too late. He crashes full force into something very solid, with an undignified oof.

Wilbur looks up with two wide eyes at the man in the suit. The angry man who had made Ponk do all those awful experiments. The man looked down at Wilbur with a scowl, and Wilbur quickly scooted away shooting Ponk a worried look from the dusty floor.

Ponk looked equally as worried.

"So this is what you've been up to." The man states with monotone diction, tilting his head to look down at Wilbur. "I'd heard stories that you were letting these... experiments.. roam around the compound." The man with the mutton chops crouches down so that he's now at Wilbur's level. "Really Ponk, I thought you knew better." He says carding a hand through Wilbur's hair before tightening it and pulling Wilbur up with him by the roots. Wilbur whines as he tries to squirm out of the man's grip to no avail as Ponk stares helplessly with a scared Fundy tucked between his legs.

"Schlatt.. I-" Ponk shuts up at the sight of the other man's face.

The man pulls Wilbur's hair back even further so that the boy is looking up at his face. "With all my funding you'd think I'd have more to show for it." With a jerk of his arm he sends Wilbur sprawling at Ponk's feet. Wilbur hits his chin on the hard cement and tries not to cry as he curls up next to Fundy around Ponk's legs. "A mute boy and a talking fox, that's hardly worth my time-" He quirks up an eyebrow as he takes a menacing step forward, "-or money. Don't you think?"

Ponk shifted, almost tripping over the boys at his feet. "I'm on the cusp of something great Schlatt, I can feel it." The next words come out more pleading, "Please, just give me more time."

"Time is all I've been giving you," Schlatt narrows his eyes, "I need results."

"You'll get them," Ponk assured him with a quavering voice.

Schlatt frowned, eyes lingering once again on the boys huddled on the ground. "I better."

~~~~~

Wilbur is back in that cursed room. The doctors are back in their blue scrubs and Fundy is back on the bed beside his.

Ponk is strangely composed, unlike the last time they were in these positions. He was up in all the action, getting everything prepped to go. Wilbur ignored it all, keeping his eyes focused on Fundy's small frame.

" I'm scared, Wilbur." The small voice carried over to him.

Wilbur was scared too. Images of little fox cubs, frothing at the mouth flashed through his mind. Vacant eyes, that stared right through him. Fundy might end up like them this time. It would be his fault.

Ponk bends down next to Fundy and rubs calming circles on his back. "There's no reason to be scared. I'll be right with you the entire time. You can even hold my hand, squeeze it if it gets to be too much."

Tiny orange paws grip Ponk's much larger hand as the kit lets out pitiful cries laced with fear. Ponk looks heartbroken but he still looks up at his colleagues, resolve hardening his face, "Begin."

The needle is plunged into his arm yet again. Wilbur has lost count on how many times they have stuck him. The hole it left was starting to linger, refusing to mend itself, for what was the point if they would just reopen it the next day.The next hour. They took the syringe and gave it to Ponk. He whispered gentle things in Fundy's ears as he eased the needle into his arm. Wilbur saw as the kit's fingers immediately clenched Ponk's free hand as he let out another whine.

Everyone held their breathe, eyes glued to the monitors above and the steady rise and fall of jagged lines. Shoulders were relaxing and the beginnings of relieved murmers were spilling out of mouths before things took a turn. A violent yowling broke the silence followed by the urgent sounds of beeping. The jagged lines became sporadic as Fundy began to jerk in Ponk's arms, foam spilling out from between his lips. Wilbur could only watch in abject horror as tears streaked down his cheeks.

No.

No. no. no. no. no. Not Fundy. Not his friend.

Fundy gives one final twitch before going limp, sagging in Ponk's arms. The line on the monitors that had been bouncing sporadically, went flat, followed by a continuous beep, that felt like screaming in Wilbur's ears.

Ponk set the child down, rolling up his gown before starting chest compressions. "Defibrilator." He barked. "Now."

Someone ran off before coming back with the machine. Ponk was swift with applying the stickers to Fundy's chest. He didn't waste time. "Clear." He pressed the button sending electricity through the child, making him jerk unnaturally on the mattress. "Come on Fundy, breathe for me." He muttered to himself. The machine continued flatlining and Ponk took a shaky breathe. "Come on, come on. Clear!" The kit's body jerked upwards and Ponk's face flew up to look at the monitor.

Still nothing. Seconds went by, each one was agony. Waiting. Hoping.

Beep.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

Ponk's body collapses on the bed next to Fundy in relief. He stared at the steady rise and fall of Fundy's chest in disbelief. He reaches a hand out and wraps it around one of Fundy's paws, "See, I've got you. Nothing to be afraid of."

Wilbur doesn't think the doctor's comforting words were meant for the unconscious cub.

~~~~~

Ponk paced in frustration. The experiment with Fundy hadn't produced any new results. It only placed the fox cub in a hospital bed, as he recovered from his near death experience. But Schlatt was still pushing, and time was of the essence. Ponk's attention was now fully turned on Wilbur.

He stopped his pacing, and gave Wilbur a curious look from where he sat on the floor, picture books stacked around him. He walks over to Wilbur and sits down criss cross, his hands resting on his knees. "Okay kid, I need you to start working with me here. I need you to start using your words."

Wilbur's eyes widened and he shook his head adamantly.

"I know it's scary. But it's really important." Ponk sighs, running a hand through his hair. "If you don't start talking, then I don't know what I'll do. I might have to do another experiment on Fundy and-"

"No."

Ponk froze, not having heard the boy's voice in months, (even though he was sure he'd seen the boy whispering to Fundy on numerous occasions.)

"No. No you're right. I don't want to do that again either." Wilbur looked satisfied, but just for a second, before Ponk starts speaking again. "But I'll need your help. If you don't use your voice... Schlatt will force my hand." Ponk takes the boys hands in his own. "You want to keep Fundy safe. Don't you?"

Wilbur nods his head slowly.

"Then I need you to start speaking for me."

Tears glistened at the corner's of Wilbur's eyes.

"Okay."

~~~~~

They start with animals. Like the hamster from before. They place them in front of Wilbur and ask him to tell them to do different tasks. The animals always listen to him. It makes him feel uneasy, but, Wilbur is just happy Fundy is back and healthy again. They hadn't done anymore experiments on him, giving him plenty of time to romp and play. He liked messing with Ponk in particular . Since the experiment he'd seemed to grow more attached to the man. Wilbur had been the opposite, crawling deeper into his shell. He didn't interact with Ponk during his visits (they didn't go on outings anymore, staying trapped in their tiny pastel room.) Fundy didn't seem to notice.

The doctors all mutter things to each other under their breath as if Wilbur couldn't hear them. He saw flashes of fear in their eyes when the animals did as they were told. But men of knowledge are always being propelled forward, never content, never sated. They just wanted more, more, more. And Wilbur was forced to give, or else Fundy would pay the price.

They started human trials. They made him practice his ablities on other children to better understand the limits to his abilities. He hadn't known there were other children here, besides him and Fundy. He wished for that ignorance again, because he didn't like the way he made them cry.

They learned several things from these trials. Wilbur's commands were not permanent, they worked for maybe a minute, generally less. Other discoveries included that overuse of his abilities effected his throat, making him sore and hoarse for days afterward. And, he couldn't make people do things they didn't want to do. Well. things they really didn't want to do. The scientists seemed disappointed when Wilbur couldn't force one child to hit the other.

They still needed more. Ponk said the next experiment would be easy. Wilbur would hardly have to do anything. Wilbur vowed to never believe the man again when they shoved him into a scary tube and told him to stay completely still for the next hour. He squeezed his eyes shut as he heard loud whirring noises all around him as the machine went to work. Ponk said it was taking a picture of his brain. Wilbur wondered why anyone would want to know what a brain looked like.

The next couple days Wilbur passed in the labs. He sat still and kept quiet while they ran tests. The scientists buzzed with untold exitement as if they were on the brink of something big. Wilbur found out what it was after seventy-two hours. They found a way to make him stronger. They found out a way to make people do things they did not want to do. He could see in their eyes how much they feared their own creation.

Wilbur was afraid of what they saw too.

~~~~~

Schlatt came to visit. He looks out of place amongst the bright colors and fuzzy stuffed animals. The harsh lines of his face clashed with the softness of the fox boy who stood in front of him, staring with large curious eyes. Schlatt walks passed the boy, almost pushing him over in the process. He steps directly in front of Wilbur while Ponk watched from the sidelines, trying his best to still his restless hands.

Wilbur gives the man an obstanant glare refusing to cower like he had during their last altercation. Schlatt looked bored, "Show me what you can do." He nods his head at Fundy, "Order the animal to do something."

Fundy's ears go down as he looks at Wilbur unsurely, Wilbur had never used his powers on him before. He wasn't about to start now.

"No."

"No?" Schlatt raises an eyebrow before glancing at Ponk, "Seems to me your little projects need more training." Wilbur doesn't have enough time to react before he gets a boot to the ribs. He lays on the floor stunned, trying and failing to gasp air back into his lungs while Schlatt lowers his foot back to the ground, expression unchanged. "I wasn't asking, I said, show me what you can do." He annunciates every syllable as if Wilbur hadn't understood the first time.

Wilbur pulls himself back up, still struggling to get air back into his lungs, his eyes brimming with fire, "No."

The boot lands on his chest once again, this time staying in place. It pins Wilbur to the floor like a needle through a bug. The corners of Schlatt's eyebrows forrow, the first indicator of his rage. "I'm not playing games kid," His foot presses down harder, and Wilbur is filled with the sudden fear that his ribs might crack.

"Get off me." The words tear through him, acting more on instinct than anything else.

Schlatt immediately removes his foot . "You shouldn't have done that, kid." It takes him exactly two seconds to turn on Fundy and back hand him across the face. The toddler collapses to the ground, the moment of silence before the kit's eventual sobs was deafening. Schlatt pressed a boot across the Fundy's back before tilting his head and looking up at Ponk. "What does this one do again Ponk? Eat. Sleep. Shit?" He didn't look impressed.

Wilbur stays where he is, frozen in place even though he wasn't the subject of Schlatt's attention anymore. He makes eye contact with Ponk. before the doctor straightens up to make a response. "He talks sir. The child's blood made him go through changes. He has more human characteristics such as apposable thumbs and an altered bone structure. Several tests have proven that he's also highly intelligent."

Schlatt presses down harder on the crying fox cub, making the child even more hysterical. "So he's useless to me." He sneered at Wilbur when he said those words. "You know what I do to things I have no use for, Ponk."

Ponk stands in place, hands finally stilled, balled up into fists at his side. Schlatt looks at him expectantly. "Well?"

"You throw them away. Sir." Ponk looks away from Wilburs wide eyes, as if he couldn't bear to look at the child.

"That's right," Schlatt eases his foot off of Fundy before closing in on Ponk. He sets a hand on Ponk's shoulder, firmly, as if to keep him from running away. "Fix the fox," Than he gives Wilbur one last icy grin, "And teach that boy some manners. You know how I feel about defective tools."

~~~~~

Wilbur screamed when they took Fundy away. He would've done more if they hadn't placed a gag in his mouth, preventing him from using his powers. He clawed and kicked and screamed, snot seeping from his nose and streaks of salty tears flowing down his face. He behaved like a wild animal, and guards had to hold him down against the ground so that he didn't chase after them.

They were giving Fundy another blood infusion. The fox boy had received as much of Wilbur's DNA as he could take. Another infusion from Wilbur could prove lethal with no room for change. So, Ponk decided to use the blood of one of his other experiments. The results were... unpleasant.

Fundy's heart stopped working. Again. They had to give him immediate open heart surgery to get him going again. It was a close call, but the boy lived.

Three days. Three days Wilbur spent in a near catatonic state. He didn't eat. He didn't sleep. If he did anything at all, he cried. Ponk got sick of it, so he gave in. He took Wilbur out of the pastel room, that he was really starting to outgrow, and took him to see his friend.

There was a nurse in the room when they arrived. She was ministrating to whoever resided behind the drawn gray curtain. Wilbur felt hesitant, waiting there by the door, hiding behind Ponk's large white doctor's coat. It felt ominous, the way the curtain kept his friend out of sight.

"Would you give us a second alone?" Ponk asked the nurse with a polite smile.

"Just don't keep him up too long." She frowned, "He needs his rest." Even though Wilbur's eyes were lowered to the cement floor, he could hear the ladie's heels click from the room into the echoing corridor.

Ponk squeezed his hand, "Alright Wilbur, you wanna see him?"

That was all he'd wanted for the past couple of days. But, now that he was actually here, he wasn't so sure. Ponk adjusted his grip on the boy's hand, "It's okay, I'll go up with you. He really wants to see you too."

The last sentence seals his resolve. "Okay."

Ponk leads him slowly up to the bed. He drags the curtain back to reveal a small body swaddled in white sheets. Fundy's fur looks different somehow. More clumpy and less vibrant. His eyes were bloodshot as well, they were drooping at the sides as if he was fighting to stay awake. The most noticible difference Wilbur saw was the slightly browned bandages with little plastic bags hanging out the sides filled slightly with pink liquid. He felt sick.

"Wilbur!!!" Fundy's eyes lit up at the sight of his friend.

Wilbur knew he should probably say something, but all he could do was stare. He was particularly fixated on the bit of gunk that resting at the edge of Fundy's left eye. "Wilbur?" The boy sounded confused. It pushed Wilbur over the edge.

Wilbur grabbed onto Ponk's coat and gave it a short tug. "I wanna go."

Ponk forrowed his eyebrows, "But Wilbur-"

"Take me back to my room."

Fundy sat up in his bed with bleary eyes. "Wilbur. Don't go Wilbur."

But it was already too late, Ponk took Wilbur by the hand and lead him back into the hallway. They crossed paths with the nurse who hadn't gotten very far. "Done already?" Ponk didn't respond, pulling Wilbur quickly along behind him. They were half way back to the room when Wilbur's voice wore off.

Ponk stopped abruptly, causing Wilbur to almost crash into him. He spun around on the boy with a single word on his tongue. "Why?"

The tears rolling down his cheeks were enough of an answer. Wilbur launched himself at the man's stomach and buried his head into the doctor's abdomen. "That- he- he didn't look like Fundy." He sobbed, shoulders trembling. "He didn't look like Fundy, Ponk."

Ponk wrapped his arms around Wilbur, "It's gonna be okay Wilbur."

Wilbur was getting sick of his lies.

~~~~~

Wilbur is going to leave, of that fact, he is sure. He couldn't stay here, waiting for one of these experiments to kill him... or worse... kill Fundy.

A month after the operation, Fundy had returned. He was different now, in obvious ways but also in ways Wilbur couldn't express with words. Fundy now had a long thin scar that began right underneath his collarbone and reached to his sturnum. The fur there was patchy, if it grew at all. It didn't seem to bother Fundy. In fact, the boy seemed to be more energetic than ever. The catalyst, Wilbur thought, was Fundy's new powers.

The operation had been a success. Fundy had inherited some of the power from his donor. He liked to prank people with it, always going invisible before Ponk entered the room, only to appear again, right in front of the doctor, causing him to trip and fall on numerous occasions, or door on surprise. The fox cub would burst into laughter clutching at his stomach, as he giggled through his joy. Wilbur didn't join in. The pranks were just reminders. Reminders that he could've lost his brother due to the cowardice of a doctor and the greed of a suited man.

Shortly after Fundy came back, Schlatt started making regular visits. Wilbur was stunned to find that the kit wasn't terrified of the man. Instead he went up to greet the man with a tight hug and excited words. Schlatt would just pat his head with a fond smile on his face. Apparently Schlatt had started visiting Fundy during his month of recovery and he was "really nice now." Or. That's what Fundy whispered to him when they stayed up passed lights out.

Wilbur wondered what Schlatt's motives were with his sudden "change of heart." He'd started to try and talk to Wilbur during their visits. Compliment his progress with controlling his powers, offer advice or a gentle ear. A pat on the back. Wilbur didn't even try to hide it when he flinched away. Schlatt frowned, before setting his attentions back on Fundy. Wilbur didn't like the way that Schlatt looked at Fundy. Like the boy was a gamble that had finally paid off.

Wilbur tried to explain it to Fundy as the boy snuck under his blankets to avoid the prying eyes of the night cam. Schlatt was just trying to trick them. He didn't love Fundy, he just wanted the boy to love and listen to him. All those nice things he'd been saying to the kit had just been an elaborate ruse.

Wilbur almost regretted it when Fundy's eyes welled up with tears. "You're- You're lying. You're just jealous because Schlatt likes me more than you."

"What?" Wilbur looked at the cub incredulously "No. No, Fundy, he's just a bad person."

Fundy's bottom lip quivered as he jutted it out, "Stop be'in mean to Schlatt. He's a good person Wilbur, a good person. He's even been teaching me letters-"

"I taught you your letters first!" Wilbur whispered harshly.

This left Fundy stumped for a few seconds, "Well not very good. Schlatt teaches me my letters really good."

Wilbur dropped it, classifying that conversation as a lost cause. Fundy was growing far too attached to Schlatt. Wilbur worried. He worried that given the chance, Fundy wasn't going to leave the compound. Wilbur needed to figure out a way to convince him to run away. When he left, he needed his baby brother to come with him.

~~~~~

Wilbur's powers kept growing.

Human trials were getting boring, predictable, especially now that Schlatt was sitting in on all their sessions. The man changed the tone of the sessions. Instead of the methodical way the scientists had been trying to uncover the extent of his abilities, Schlatt made him spar. Wilbur had to quickly learn how to fight back against bigger and stronger apponents, using his powers to his advantage. He often would end those sessions mottled with bruises tasting blood in his mouth. Schlatt would pat him on the shoulder on the days he won the matches. "Keep up the good work."

On the days that he lost he would receive an icy glare that warned of misfortune. He tried not to lose.

With each passing day, Wilbur lost less and less until victory was assured in every round. He was agile, quick on his feet, and thought outside the box. A well oiled fighting machine. Fundy followed closely behind.

Fundy received his own training. His endurance and stealth increased tenfold as he partook in his own matches. However, where Wilbur spurned Schlatt's attentions, Fundy welcomed it with open arms. He soaked up the man's praise, yammering on about it to Wilbur whenever he gave Fundy a truly exceptional compliment. It made Wilbur sick how Fundy looked at Schlatt with adoring eyes. How he worshipped a monster. Wilbur kept his mouth shut. He didn't try to dissuade Fundy from his affections anymore, since all it really accomplished was driving him away from the boy.

Instead, Wilbur started filling the boy's head with thoughts of a life outside the compound. He shared stories he overheard from the guards. He shared facts he read in books. He painted a pretty picture of fresh air and freedom. A life they could live if only they left under the cover of dark.

Fundy frowned, "Can we take Schlatt with us too?"

Wilbur looked appalled, before schooling his expression into something softer and more understanding, "No Fundy, Schlatt can't come with us."

"Why not?"

Wilbur sighed at the boy's one track mind, "Because, he doesn't want us to leave the compound. Schlatt wants to keep us here forever."

"Oh." The fox boy pondered the thought for a little while, "Well then I'll stay here with Schlatt. You can still go though. The outside sure sounds like fun, make sure to tell me all about it when you come back. Kay?"

Wilbur stomped away from the boy in frustration. He just couldn't get through to him, no matter how hard he tried. He'd have to think of another way to get him to come along without tattling to Schlatt.

~~~~~

Schlatt had Wilbur and Fundy start sparing together. It was unfair, Wilbur had the advantage with size and power. Fundy didn't stand a chance against him. Schlatt just sat back in his chair with a self satisfied smirk. Wilbur shifted from foot to foot, giving Ponk a worried look. Ponk did as he always did, turning away with a guilt ridden expression.

Fundy stood across from Wilbur, fists held up in a beginning stance. He had a determined lilt to his brow, fear tucked neatly out of sight. He didn't hesitate when he heard the tinny sound of the buzzer.

Any traces of Fundy immediately disappeared. Wilbur tried to follow the boy with ears, listening for the sound of small feet slapping against the cement ground. He turned and tried to block where he thought the boy had gone, instead leaving his gut completely open. A small fist dug straight into his abdomen, succesfully knocking the air out of him and leaving him stunned. A second punch clocked him in the side of the jaw, and he felt a sharp pain as his teeth dug into his lip.

Wilbur came to a realization right then and their. Fundy wasn't going to hold back. He's was going straight for the kill.

Before the boy could get another hit in, Wilbur swiped his foot around the boys general direction, earning him an "oof" as Fundy fell to the ground.

Wilbur took a step back, getting out of Fundy's range. He wanted to end the match as fast as possible, but knowing Schlatt, he probably wouldn't take to kindly to Wilbur abusing his powers. Schlatt didn't think a match deserved to be over until someone drew blood. Maybe if he gave Fundy a quick blow to the head and knocked him unconscious he could end the match with minimal pain.

Wilbur was still lost in his thoughts when an invisible fist connected with his ribs. He side stepped, feeling the whoosh of a second punch that never met its mark.

"Are you going to keep running away, or are you going to fight back you coward." Schlatt jeered from the sidelines.

Wilbur tossed Schlatt a glare as he sidestepped another punch. Fundy had forgotten to silence his footsteps making it easier to guess where the next few punches would be. Wilbur blocked each on with ease, gaining the upper hand. Wilbur had a general idea where Fundy was, so he threw a hard punch trying to knock the boy in the jaw. It would assure a swift knockput and victory.

Wilbur misjudged. He heard Fundy cry out as he crumbled to the ground fully visible once again. He clutched his nose which was gushing blood into his palms. He gave a pained whined before smothering it up when he looked over to Schlatt for guidance. Schlatt remained impassive, reclined in his chair as he watched the match unfold.

Wilbur looked down at his fist. Blood was dribbling down it in oozing drips. Fundy's blood. He'd hurt Fundy and the match wasn't over yet, not until one of them stayed down on the ground. Fundy wasn't going to let it be him.

Fundy scrubbed his nose with his sleeve before hauling himself back to his feet. He wobbled a little, before he shook the dizziness away and stood straight up, alert. Fundy used his powers and dissapeared again, but Wilbur could still see droplets of blood spattering onto the cement floor. Fundy's camouflage only worked on the things he was attached to, so, if Wilbur just followed the trail of blood... Wilbur hesitated. No, no he wasn't going to fight his little brother. Schlatt couldn't make him. He was done with this game.

A fist connected with his rib, causing him to stumble back.

Schlatt sat up in his chair, his apathy vanished replaced by annoyance, "Come on, finish what you started Wilbur."

"I'm done fighting." The words rang out almost echoing in the large cement room.

Fundy reappeared to wilbur's side, the boy giving a questioning glance. Was the fight over? Schlatt looked livid, "I get to say when you're done. Fundy, finish him off," he growled.

Fundy looked back at Wilbur, nose stilling seeping blood, so that it dribbled down his lips to his chin, "Will you gotta fight me." He whispered.

"I won't." Wilbur refused, "Fundy, listen to Schlatt."

"But-"

"Boys I'm getting tired of waiting," Schlatt complained from the sidelines, "You better get started, or, do you need some motivation." The threat was clear to the both of them. Fundy went rigid with fear.

"Come on Fundy," Wilbur encouraged, "Just aim for my jaw, you'll get a swifter knock out."

Fundy's bottom lip trembled before his face went back to nuetral as he stuffed down his feelings. Once again, he faded out of sight. A couple seconds later, Wilbur was on the ground with ringing ears. One punch hadn't been enough to knock him flat, so Fundy had to plant three. The buzzer sounded again signaling the end of the match. Wilbur was distantly aware of the fact Schlatt was showering Fundy with praises, or that the fox child was responding to them bashfully. He was vaguely aware of the flourescent lights above him that were far to bright, maybe it wouldn't hurt his head so much if he just closed his eyes...

Someone jerked him up by the collar of his shirt. "What do you think you're trying to pull, kid?" Schlatt hissed into his ear. Wilbur blinked his eyes, trying to get the blurry room to come back into focus. Ponk and Fundy had apparently left already. He was alone with Schlatt he realized, as dread pooled in his bones. "Acting like a saint is going to get you nowhere good. You'll start listening to me if you know what's good for you."

"No-"

Schlatt backhands him across the face, filling his vision with stars. He would've fell straight on his ass if the man hadn't been forcefully holding him up by his collar. "Do not test me boy."

"I won't hit Fundy," Wilbur couldn't get his tongue to move right so his speech sounded slurred, "You can't make me."

"We'll see about that." Schlatt said with a nasty smile dropping his grip on Wilbur's shirt. He slid his belt off in one swift motion before folding it into one meaty hand. "We'll see about that, kid."

~~~~~

Everyday Wilbur's body was painted with new bruises. Everytime Wilbur refused to fight against Fundy, Schlatt would beat him black and blue. Wilbur was starting to yield. There was only so many beatings a child could bare. Plus, Fundy was starting to get angry with him.

"Why won't you fight with me Wilbur?" Fundy asked while Ponk applied ointments to Wilbur's new bruises. His skin was now differents shades of purple, yellow, and green, almost every inch was marred by the unnatural shades.

"I don't want to hurt you."

Fundy pouted, "Schlatt says I'm a good fighter. As good as you." Wilbur frowned, "He says I won't be able to reach my full Po-tent-chal if you don't fight me." Fundy struggles with the big word, but seems self satisfied when he uses it "correctly."

Wilbur doesn't have the energy to be angry with Schlatt anymore. He just shakes his head as Ponk helps ease his shirt back down over his body. "Fundy, I don't want to fight you."

"Fine," Fundy huffs, "I don't want to fight you either. It's boring." He says the last bit with the same inflection as Schlatt. It sent shivers down Wilbur's spine. Wilbur needed to get Fundy away from here, before Schlatt was able to sink his claws into him any further.

~~~~~

Schlatt was planning something. Wilbur wasn't sure what it was, but he knew it had to be big. There was a certain tension that was felt all across the compound. This feeling of waiting. Wilbur didn't want to be there when the other pin dropped.

Wilbur had a plan. In his seven years living at the compound he'd been in everywhere at least once. He'd mapped it out as best he could in his head, giving him a good idea of the layout of the mammoth building. Those early excursions with Ponk contributed largely to it, he had at least that to thank the doctor for , if nothing else.

Wilbur had realized he couldn't convince Fundy to come with him voluntarily. The boy had been too thoroughly brainwashed. He was attached to Schlatt by the hip it seemed.

Just the other day after one of Schlatt's beatings Fundy had approached him. While Wilbur lay curled up on his side, nursing sore ribs, Fundy spoke his mind. "Schlatt wouldn't have to do this to you if you just listened to him." The boy frowned as if this was the most simple concept in the world. "He could love you just like he loves me. You just have to deserve it."

"He doesn't love you." Wilbur shoots back through gritted teeth. He says it thoughtlessy, mind hazy with the pain.

Wilbur wait for anger to flash through the boys eyes. Or maybe doubt. He's met with neither, just steely indifference. Fundy rolled his eyes. "He already warned me about your lies Wilbur. I'm not stupid."

"I'm not lying ," Wilbur bristled, defending himself. Schlatt had been speaking ill of him in front of Fundy? Was he trying set them against eachother?

"Yes you are." Fundy insisted. "He loves me Wilbur. He loves me because I earned it."

Wilbur wanted to fight back. He wanted to wring Fundy by his neck, and convince him it wasn't true. He wanted to defend himself.

"Fine."

Defeated, he turns around to face the pastel wall. That was as much privacy as he could get in this godforsaken prison. He let the matter rest. He didn't need Fundy's permission to take him with him.

Ponk, though anxious, was not the most observant. Wilbur had stolen a couple syringes along with a tiny bottle filled with clear liquid, slipping it into the front of his shorts when the doctor wasn't looking. He'd decided he'd put Fundy to sleep, he'd seen the doctors do it enough times. Wilbur knew how to find a vein. He would probably even have help by the permanent tracks in Fundy's arms .

He'd debated using his voice on Fundy, but decided against it. He'd figured it would be more damaging in the long run. Fundy wouldn't be able to look at him the same way in the future if he used his powers on him without his consent. Plus he doubted he would be able to maintain the focus of using his voice on Fundy at the same as the guards or whoever else he might run into .

Wilbur also decided that it would be best to go under the cover of night. There were the least amount of people at the compound during the night hours. Less bodies to run into. They would run to the west wing, it mostly just held supplies, medical and janitorial stuff. There was only a couple guards stationed there since there was a backdoor leading to a small courtyard. From there he would sneak with Fundy over to the main gate. He would use his voice to make them let him out. From there... he didn't know. The outside world was still one big unknown to Wilbur, he'd just have to figure it out along the way.

But first came the beginning of his plan. Ponk would unknowingly let them out using his key -card. He had a habit of visiting at lights out to tuck them in. It had started around the time Fundy had been introduced to the room. The kit had been terrified of the dark and the doctor had felt sorry.

"Wilbur? Fundy?" Ponk's shadow peaked into the room .

Wilbur slipped the syringe underneath a pillow next to its twin, hiding it from view. Fundy lay slumped over in his lap, breaths heavy, slow, and peaceful. Wilbur pressed a finger to his lips, shushing the doctor. Ponk steps all the way into the room, shutting the door softly behind him.

"Asleep already?" Ponk crouches down next to the Fox child and runs a fond hand through his ginger fur, "He must've tuckered himself out wrestling with Schlatt earlier today." He runs a gentle finger across the boy's snout, making him twitch his nose before falling back into rest. "I havn't seen him sleep this heavily since he was just a cub." Ponk looks up at Wilbur, eyes passing over the boy's face. "You two have grown so much the past couple years. To think, in a couple years, I might night not recognise you." His laugh is feather soft, barely audible in the stillness of the dark room.

"You look exactly the same." Wilbur says blandly, running his own hands through his brother's velvety coat. He doesn't meet the doctor's eyes.

"I suppose I do." Ponk says contemplatively before a small smile creeps across his face, "Though I swear you boys have given me a couple gray hairs."

Silence... followed by, "Ponk."

"Yes Wilbur?" Ponk's eyes are too focused on Wilbur's face to pay attention to where Wilbur's hand snuck underneath a pillow, fingers wrapping around something cold.

"Thank you for always being kind." The syringe easily slides into the skin of the doctors neck. The dosage might be slightly off, Wilbur didn't know how much adults needed compared to kids. He sincerley hoped it didn't hurt the man.

Ponk's hand flew up to his neck , yanking out the syringe, but it was already too late, the drugs were already in his blood stream. His eyes were wide as he slumped to the side, losing his balance in slow motion. "Wilbur?"

Wilbur sets Fundy down so he can pull the lanyard off of Ponk's neck and retrieve the key-card attached to it. Ponk's face drooped as the drugs took effect, knocking him out within seconds. Now, time for the hard part.

Wilbur places the lanyard over his neck before hoisting Fundy's unconscious body over his shoulders. He was heavy, two thirds of Wilbur's body weight, but he managed. He jogged over to the door, awkwardly placing the key-card into the reader without dropping Fundy. There was an audible click, and Wilbur swung the door open, catching it with his shoulder and stepping through.

The hall was dim and eery. It was also blessedly empty. Wilbur shifted his grip on Fundy before starting his trek down the winding corridors.

Wilbur moved carefully, each step purposeful, as he kept the pads of his feet from making any sound . He saw a couple guards making their rounds, but he was able to remain hidden in the shadows of corners and they unwittingly passed him by. What was the trickier battle was staying out of sight of the cameras. His path zigzagged as he kept his body out of their line of sight. The body across his shoulders feeling heavier by the second.

Wilbur cut around one final corner when he was met with three beefy guards. One of them stepped towards him grabbing for his baton, "Hey! What are you doing out here?"

Wilbur inhales. "Sleep." All three guards fall like ragdolls, limbs sprawled out across the floor. They wouldn't be for long. Wilbur still didn't fully understand the limits to his powers, so it was better not to test them.

Wilbur stepped over them, trying not to trip on their bodies as he tried to reach the door on the other end. Wilbur shifts Fundy down, leaning him up against the wall as he puts his hand on the door handle. Fundy shifts in his sleep , uncomfortable with the new position. Wilbur's fingers tighten and he tugs the door open.

Sirens start blaring and the dim lights go flashing red. He'd tripped an alarm somehow, they would be after them soon. Wilbur turned to pick Fundy back up, but paused when he saw the boy's fluttering eyes. "Wilbur, where are we?"

Wilbur's stomach drops. No. The drugs were supposed to keep him knocked out for at least another thirty minutes. He wasn't supposed to be awake yet. Low grunts indicated the guards were waking up behind them. They needed to go. Now.

"Fundy, I don't have time to explain now. But you need to trust me." Fundy just stared at him through squinted eyes, looking disoriented and confused . Wilbur grabs his wrist. "Follow me."

The noise dies down once they shut the door behind them. The wind was blowing hard, the strong gusts seemed to bring Fundy back to alertness. The sirens became a background noise, as the sounds of the night overwhelmed them.

"Wilbur?"

Wilbur presses a finger to his lips and the Fox boy complies. Wilbur sneaks, keeping their bodies closely pressed to the walls as they circle the compound. He tries to keep them blended with the shadows kept out of sight. He forces Fundy and himself to stop in their tracks when a group of guards jog passed. They don't spot them.

"Why are we hiding?" Fundy hisses in Wilbur's ears .

"Because." Wilbur wracks his brain for an excuse, "Because there are bad people who snuck in the compound. Ponk wants us to stay out of sight so we don't get caught. He told us to go hide."

Fundy looked at him skeptically, "You're lying again. Aren't you?"

Wilbur silently cursed, Fundy wasn't a baby anymore , he could tell when Wilbur wasn't telling the truth. "I need you to trust me Fundy."

He must've sensed the seriousness in Wilbur's voice because he let it go, "Okay."

Wilbur led the way, Fundy sneaking unaided behind him. They were in the homestretch. Turning the corner , Wilbur saw the main gates. It was lit up with bright lights, and around two dozen guards swarmed the area. Wilbur had never used his voice on that many before. He glanced back at Fundy. He had to try, and time was running short.

Wilbur stepped into the light. The guards caught sight of him quick enough. Soon, he had a handful of guns leveled at him. "Don't move." One of the guards spoke up, "Don't move or we'll shoot." He sounded scared, as if the ten year old who stood before them was a fearsome sight .

Little did the man know, Wilbur didn't have to move to use his powers. Wilbur focused his power on the men in front of him, "Sleep." The men collapsed in a heep and Wilbur almost followed suit. Using his voice on that many people at once had left him drained beyond belief. But they weren't done yet. "Come on Fundy, follow me."

"Not so fast."

A chill ran up his spine as he turned around. Schlatt stood on the other side of Fundy, flanked by two guards. "Where do you think you're going?" His voice was low and deadly calm.

Wilbur's eyes settled on Fundy, who looked between them with wide eyes, still a but unsteady on his feet. "Fundy, we're leaving." Wilbur told the boy firmly .

"But Schlatt-"

"Come here." The voice slips out of its own accord. Fundy has no choice but to walk over to his brother.

The guards raise to aim their guns but Schlatt raises a hand, "Stand down." Schlatt settles his eyes on Fundy. "Is this true? Are you leaving me?" He had the audacity to sound hurt.

Fundy looks to Wilbur then back to Schlatt. He takes a step away from Wilbur. "It's not true."

A smile spreads across Schlatt's face, "I'm glad. You chose the right thing Fundy." Then he turns on Wilbur, "Why don't you help your friend Wilbur make the right choice as well."

Fundy bobs his head with understanding before turning on Wilbur. "Lets go back inside, Wilbur."

Wilbur's head spins. He'd been planning for this for so long. And it had all fallen apart in a matter of moments. He couldn't have it all be for nothing. He's was going to leave, with or without Fundy. "No."

Fundy frowned taking a step closer. "You can go by yourself or I can take you by force." It was almost comical hearing those words from such a tiny boy. But Wilbur knew he wasn't joking. He had a firm set to his jaw, resigned to fight him if need be.

Wilbur turned tail and ran.

"After him!" He heard Schlatt roar.

Fundy had the upper hand here. He was faster than Wilbur and always had the element of surprise. A small limb got between his feet, sending him sprawling to the ground . Fundy immediatlely straddled him, fingers wrapping around his wrists to keep him in place. Wilbur bucked, trying to get the small boy off of him but was rewarded with an elbow to the temple instead. He heard the steps of Schlatt and his guards getting closer. It was either now or never .

"Get off me."

Fundy slid off him with a snarl. The boy's eyes were tainted with rage as Wilbur stood back to his feet. Wilbur didn't have to aim his next word, letting it rest on everybody present. "Stay."

"You won't be gone long." Schlatt bellowed from where he stood. "We'll track you down, and when we do, I swear I'll make you regret the day you were born."

Wilbur ignored the man's comment as he stumbled away. He was weak and he was dizzy. He felt like he was going to pass out. But he was going to make it out of here. And despite what Schlatt said, he was never coming back.

~~~~~

The outside wasn't anything like Wilbur expected. It wasn't vibrant. The air wasn't fresh. In fact, a lot of the smells made him feel sick to his stomach. Wilbur didn't feel free. He felt... lost.

He tried approaching some people. He told them he was hungry. They told him to screw off and try and bum a meal off somebody else who actually gave a shit. Wilbur had never had to find a meal for himself before. He'd never had to feel hungry. They always fed him at regular intervals at the compound. They kept him healthy.

Wilbur got sick for the first time in his life in the streets of Manburg. He ate something he'd thought was food only to puke it up a few hours later. He felt like he was burning up and freezing at the same time. He felt like his head was going to explode. He felt like he was going wretch his stomach out through his throat. He felt like he was dying.

Delirious with fever, the sight of any passerby sent him into a panic. He used his voice without abondon, forcing anyone who got too close to go away. He suffered, hungry, sick, and cold, huddled up in crevice between two houses. He was going to die out here, he thought. Hopeless tears filled his eyes. What was the point of escaping if he couldn't even keep himself alive?

Wilbur went completely still. While his eyes were blurry with tears, a figure had snuck into the crevice with him, only a few steps away. Wilbur scurries back, further against the wall. "Stay back!" His voice came out hoarse with overuse. The command was weak, but the man still complied.

Wilbur could see him clearer now. He he was a muscular man with bright green hair. (Wilbur didnt know hair grew in that color.) He looked curiously at the boy in front of him. "I heard you've been causing quite the ruckus, using your powers on anybody who crosses your path." He says it playfully, as if amused by the prospect.

"Go away." Wilbur spits out weakly, he doesn't have enough strength to muster up the voice this time.

The man knelt down beside Wilbur placing a hand to his forehead. "You're burning up ."

"I kin take care of m'self." Wilbur's words slurred together as he lulled his head away from the mans meaty hand.

"Sure you can." The man said with an indulgent smile. "But I'd feel bad leaving a sick child all alone in the street like this." Hands wrapped around his back and legs, and Wilbur was hoisted into the air. "Lets clean you up a bit and get you into a nice warm bed. How's that sound? Hm?"

Wilbur pushed at the mans, arms feeling more like jello than limbs , "Put me down. I don' need your help."

The man just chuckles. "You sound just as stubborn as Phil's kid. But I'm afraid I can't do that." His face darkens, "After all , you've got the hero commision on your tail."

Wilbur stops his squirming. Schlatt was making good on his promise then. They were looking for him.

"Now I don't know what the hero commision would want with a little boy, but if I had to take a guess, it's nothing good." The man's arms tighten around him, not enough to be uncomfortable though, "Don't worry, I won't let them get to you. I like to follow my own moral code."

The man's face softened once again. "Ah, I forgot to introduce myself. You can call me Sam."

https://archiveofourown.org/works/60049984/chapters/160497250

#dream smp #dsmp #dsmp fandom #dsmp fanfic #fanfic #oneshot #ao3 fanfic #dsmp wilbur #ponk #jschlatt #fundy #wilbur soot

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uglypastels · 7 years ago

Note

✏ My fact is that I have an obsession with Lisa Frank stickers and art even though I'm almost 17. The title I have for you is; "Eyes as bright as the stars and heart as big as the sun" sorry if it's to long, I can send a different one instead.

I did switch up the title. Hope you don’t mind. I was really inspired by it, so I didn’t want something else.

It turned out to be a bit longer than a “short” story. Hope you Enjoy!!

The Sun, the Stars and the Moon // Tom Holland

Tom stirred in his sleep. Frustrating images flashed before his eyes before he jumped up, waking himself up. His hand reached up to his heart, while the other for the hand of (Y/N). She didn’t even budge, her chest rising and falling slowly as she breathed calmly in her sleep. The opposite of Tom. He had to close his eyes and count to ten before his breathing stabilized. The hand clutching on to his heart stopped shaking. His skin felt clammy and cold.

(Y/N) turned, still sleeping. Tom let go of her hand so she could fall to her side more comfortably. He loved watching her sleep. She looked so peaceful and sweet. Her hair falling around her face perfectly, enveloping the pillow her head was resting on.

With his face in his hands, Tom fell back into his own pillow. He exhaled deeply. There was no need to worry. Everything was great. He was still in bed, the love of his life right next to him. It was just a stupid night terror. Just like the ones he used to have when he was younger. He had to just shake it off and go back to sleep.

Only he couldn’t. Half an hour later, and Tom was still wide awake. Lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, listening to the cute snores of his girlfriend. It wasn’t even that bad, he thought. The problem now was that after the long period of just laying, not doing anything, his mouth had gotten incredibly dry. He needed a drink.

Careful not to made any harsh noises to wake (Y/N) up, Tom pulled off the sheets from his body and got up. The warm summer air felt tight around him. Quickly, but quietly, Tom walked towards the door and opened it hoping it wouldn’t crack this time. He only turned on the light in the hallway after he had closed the door. His eyes had to take a moment to get used to the brightness. Once they did though, he walked to the kitchen, still as quiet as he possibly could.

When he finally reached the kitchen Tom didn’t bother turning on the lights in there. He knew his way around that part of the house perfectly and, anyway, there was still some light shining through from the corridor. He could see just fine.

That was proved wrong by the first step he took. When he stubbed his leg against a chair. It took everything in his body not to scream out in pain. He had to think of (Y/N). He didn’t want to wake her up at… Tom turned to look at the clock on the oven… At 12:49 am. This was going to be a long night. He knew it.

Ignoring the pain, Tom walked to the fridge. He opened it just to stare at it blankly, forgetting what he wanted to get in the first place. He closed it, a bit too hard. The loud smack made him cringe but also remember what he came to do. Drink, he needed something to drink. Tea? That’s what people drank when they couldn’t sleep, right?

The cupboard above his head flew open as Tom pulled at the handle. The smell of various sorts of tea that (Y/N) had bought over the months filled his nostrils. Not really thinking much about it, he picked one of her favorites. He got a mug and then poured some water in the boiler. Then, it was just a matter of a few minutes. A few minutes that Tom gladly took as an opportunity to search for a late night snack. He knew that they had some biscuits stashed somewhere.

Too busy looking for the sweets, he had almost missed the point where the water boiled to its max. The boiler whistled and Tom had to practically run from the other side of the kitchen to take it off its heater to make the noise stop. Why did kitchen appliances always have to be so loud?

Tom had to get over the fact now that there was a high chance that he woke up his lovely girlfriend. He poured the boiling water into the Spider-Man mug (a present she had given him for his birthday as a joke. But the joke really was on (Y/N), as it was definitely one of Tom’s favorite cups).

When the tea had brewed until it was dark brown, almost black, Tom poured some honey and lemon juice into it. Another thing he had caught up since living with (Y/N). he remembered the first time she had made tea for him and the new taste had definitely left an impression. Even with the lemon in it, the drink was still sweet and in a way that didn’t feel artificial at all.

“Besides, it’s really good for your throat.” she had said and then nudged him to drink the whole thing. Oh yeah, he had been feeling sick that day. He remembered.

With the tea ready, Tom leaned against a counter and took small sips, aware of the temperature of the beverage. It was silent. His body was warming up, but at the same time cooling down, everytime the tea would enter his mouth. Tom felt good. Completely forgetting the reason he had woken up in the first place.

There were soft footsteps in the hallway, and Tom’s muscles tensed. So, he did wake her up after all. (Y/N) turned the corner. Only wearing one of his shirts, barely covering anything really. He saw that before she went out to find him, she had put her hair up in a loose ponytail. She rubbed her eyes lazily and even through a big yawn, Tom managed to make out her words: “Babe? What are you doing?”

“Nothing, just getting a drink. Go back to sleep.” He nodded off into the direction of their shared bedroom. (Y/N) shook her head in response and did the opposite of what he had suggested. The pitter patter of her bare feet against the hardwood floor announcing that she was walking over to him.

“No, it’s cold in there without you.” she wrapped her arms around his waist, leaning her chin on his chest so she could look up into his eyes. He gave her a light kiss and she hummed into it. “Hmmm, you taste like honey.” she smiled.

“Do I now?” Tom laughed. She nodded happily, pouting her lips slightly so he would kiss her again. And that is exactly what he did. Their lips brushed against each other with that passion that only two people who deeply loved each other shared. Tom could feel his heart beat faster when she smiled into the kiss. He put down the cup, hoping that he actually did it on the counter and not in mid-air. Now he could cup her face with both his hands.

(Y/N) squealed at his touch. He pulled away and looked worried into her eyes. “What’s wrong?”

“You’re hand,” she giggled, “It’s hot.” There was a joke he wanted to make about being hot, but (Y/N)’s lips were on his again, silencing him for good. With every second they shared together, Tom fell in love with a bit more. He didn’t think it was possible to love someone this much, but he truly did. To both of their dismay, he pulled away from her once again. With a spark in his eyes, he said: “Let’s go for a ride.”

“Now? It’s 1 in the morning.” her laugh was mesmerizing. Together with her touch and her beautiful eyes right in front of him, his legs were like jelly.

“So? C’mon let’s go on an adventure.” He gave her a playful Inuit-kiss.

“Okay, fine. Where do you wanna go?” Before Tom could answer she did it for him, “Ooh, I know, let’s go to an empty field!”

“Oh, how romantic of you,” Tom said sarcastically. “What do you plan on doing there? Killing me?”

“For your information, Thomas, if I would ever murder you, it would be the most romantic murder in the history of… murders.” Tom laughed at her comment. “And yeah, I do think that my idea could be rather romantic, actually.” She let go of his waist to cross her arms.

“An empty field? Please enlighten me how that is romantic.” He mirrored her actions. She smirked, accepting the challenge.

“It’s August, shooting star season! We can go to a dark field and watch the stars. Who knows, maybe we will see something.” It annoyed Tom how good she was. This did sound romantic. He hated how she was always right.

“Okay, yeah. That sounds nice. Let’s go.” he took her hand, pulling her back into the bedroom to get dressed, leaving the cup of tea completely forgotten.

________________________________________

After a half hour of driving through some little roads away from the city, they finally arrived at a deserted field. Not a sign of human life around. It was pitch black. The only real source of light was the white moon above their heads. The clear summer sky was perfect for a night of stargazing.

They got out of the car and lay down on the bonnet. They lay there, hand in hand, her head resting against his shoulder, looking up at the stars, waiting for the comets to fly by. They lay in silence. A pleasant one. Because they didn’t need to talk for the other person to know that they loved them.

It didn’t even take that long before the first star passed their eyes. It was big, leaving a light blue tail behind in the sky.

“What did you wish for?” she asked, still looking up at the stars, not seeing that Tom was looking at her, pouring all the love he had for her out right there.

“It won’t come true if I tell you that,” he answered. Even in the darkness, he could see her roll her eyes.

“Fine, do you think it will come true, though?”

“Well, let’s see, shall we?” he slid down the hood of the car onto the ground. (Y/N) sat up. Not that she could see him any better if she did. Tom still appreciated it. It gave him the possibility to stand in between her legs. She put her arms around his neck. They shared one long kiss before she let him speak his mind.

“Alright, here it goes. Honestly, I had a whole different thing planned for this, but when you kissed me - back home in the kitchen - I couldn’t wait for a second longer. Every moment that I am with you, I fall in love all over again. With your smile, your quirky little habits, your lips, your body, your personality… everything. You are everything to me and I love you.”

“I love you too.” he knew she was smiling. He didn’t have to see it to know. He heard it in her whisper.

“I love how your eyes are brighter than any star that is above us and how your heart is bigger and warmer than the sun. You are the kindest, funniest, sweetest person I have ever met.” He put his hands on her hips so he could pick her up from the car. She swung her legs around him and started giggling. With a turn to the left, so they were parallel to the car, he put her down.

“I’ve already said it before and hopefully you will let me say it till the end of our lives because that is how long I want to be with you. For always and forever. (Y/F/N), will you make me the luckiest man alive and be my wife?” He waited for an answer. It seemed like an eternity. His eyes had gotten pretty used to the darkness so he could make out the shape of her face and the faint features of it. He tried to look for an expression. Any sign of feelings.

But before she could respond, there was a flash of bright light. So pure that it almost blinded him. Everything turned white in front of him. His head hit something. But it wasn’t hard. In fact, it was as soft as a pillow. Simply because it was.

He opened his eyes just to be greeted with Harry's. “Finally, you’re awake. Been trying to get you up for the last twenty minutes. Gotta go get ready for set.” He walked away, leaving Tom extremely confused. Where was (Y/N)? Where was he? What happened to the field they were on?

Only when he looked out the window did he realize what was going on.

The New York skyline greeted him, the rising sun breaking through the steel jungle of buildings. Yes, now he remembered, he was in America, shooting his upcoming movie. Of course, everything that happened was just a dream. He had said goodbye to his best friend, (Y/N), a week ago in Venice, when she flew back home to London. Still not knowing anything about Tom’s true feelings for her.

The End

> my follower celebration

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