Chapter Text
Wilbur could vividly remember the day when his parents sat both Techno and himself down and announced to their children that they would soon be welcoming another family member into their tiny family, another little sibling. A toothy smile breaking out across Wilbur’s face at the mere thought of holding the little baby in his arms, rocking the infant side to side as he sang soft lullabies to help the child drift off into a peaceful slumber.
Seated for hours at his desk, well past his designated bedtime. Illuminated only by the flickering light of a dwindling candle as he scribbled away inside of a notebook which was filled to the brim with song ideas. Creating countless compositions that Wilbur fully planned to sing to his younger sibling the day that they arrived.
Inexperienced fingers strumming at the strings of a guitar that had been gifted to him for his birthday. Testing a wide assortment of different notes until Wilbur managed to find the right string of notes that would perfectly suit the song he was creating. Enticing Techno with the promise of sharing his dessert in exchange for his twin sitting down beside him and giving valid criticism on where Wilbur could improve. Writing little comments about the verses that he enjoyed listening to the most within the margins of the notebook, Wilbur’s smile grew even larger in size when reading it back.
Chasing after his mother’s skirt and tugging at the fabric until she put aside whatever she had in hand in order to sit down upon the sofa and listen to her ecstatic child. Placing hands against her rounding stomach as she listened to her oldest’s melodic voice. Pride filling his gaze as he sang one of the many lullabies he had created for his unborn sibling. Pressing open palms against his mother’s stomach afterwards to feel the gentle kicks of developing feet as the baby responded to their brother’s song.
Wilbur adored his youngest sibling, counted down the days that he would be able to look them in the eyes and repeat those words of love and affection.
Even when their mother tragically lost her life while giving birth to the wailing infant who was held carefully in Phil’s arms. The man curled around the squirming infant which he held so delicately, terrified that one wrong move would take another precious life from him. Weeping for the loved one that he had lost and the loved one he had gained. Having promised his dying wife that he would love their son enough for the both of them, that he would cherish the child she had been more than willing to die for.
Neither Techno nor Wilbur ever blamed their little brother for tragedies that were far beyond his control. Instead taking their sorrow and anguish and transforming that grief into overflowing love which they showered upon him. Loving Tommy extra in place of their missing mother, promising the babbling baby that they would never allow him for even a moment to feel that missing place in his heart.
That was most likely the reason behind why Techno crashed and burned as brightly as he had the day he accidentally harmed Tommy. The weight of his sins crashing down upon his shoulders, repeating into his ears that he had broken the one promise that Wilbur and himself had made to their deceased mother.
Just as it was most likely the reason as to why Wilbur felt as if his world was crumbling around him. Stunned into deathly silence after listening closely to his father’s words, to the story that Phil had accidentally eavesdropped upon.
“...Time travel?” Uttered in absolute disbelief, unable to wrap his mind around such an otherworldly concept. Feeling as if he was swimming through a thick and overly sweet syrup rather than sitting comfortably in a chair inside of his father’s study. Trudging through the disgusting substance that weighed down every step he tried to take, preventing him from being able to move forward. “You’re telling me… that Tommy traveled through time.”
The concept wasn’t any easier to comprehend on Phil’s own frazzled mind, having spent a handful of days attempting to process the otherwise unbelievable story. Unable to deny that the wild claim actually gave a lot of explanation to Tommy’s otherwise bizarre behavior.
Explained the trauma responses Tommy expressed towards people who could never hurt him, would never hurt him.
“That was the conversation that I overheard.” Phil responded, staring at his cup of tea whilst wearing a melancholy expression. Swirling the liquid around inside of the tiny container, debating if he should take a drink in a vain attempt to help swallow the lump that had formed in his throat. “I can’t really refute it when time travel would make the most sense.”
Wilbur’s own cup sat long forgotten upon the table, unable to stomach the thought of warm liquid on his throat when every single part of his body felt as if it was on fire. A searing flame that singed every inch of his tender flesh, leaving him feeling raw and exposed.
“And… you are just going to believe him?” Wilbur questioned, his voice trembling as he stumbled over that simple sentence. Wanting to viciously deny his father’s words and forget that this conversation even happened, to pretend that he wasn’t now holding in his hands an incredible secret. “Tha– that his soul came from the future and possessed his current body?”
“...Wilbur.” Phil’s tone sounded so terribly small, so defeated. Causing Wilbur to bite back the harsh retort that danced upon the tip of his tongue, wanting nothing more than to argue that time travel wasn’t possible even though it was the only plausible explanation to everything that had transpired over the past few months. “We both know that there is truth to his claim.”
There was so much truth in that simple line, so much more than Wilbur ever wanted to acknowledge.
The reason behind why Tommy had such a sudden and drastic change in personality almost overnight. Erasing the bright-eyed little brother who had once greeted him in the morning with a string of wild insults and replacing him with a terrified and shivering child that was nearly unidentifiable.
The reason as to why the name ‘Dream’ slipped past his trembling lips. Eyes clouded over as Tommy struggled to escape the haze of memories filled with abuse and torment that Wilbur’s younger brother had never once experienced during this lifetime. Looking into the faces of his family members and being unable to recognize them whilst he trudged through the deep trenches that were his fears.
The reason why Tommy seemed to hold within him a plethora of knowledge that far exceeded what he had been taught, what a child who adamantly refused to study should possess. Giving helpful suggestions and advice to his older brother when just a few weeks prior Tommy had scoffed at the mere idea of reading a book.
It was all too much.
It was all too little.
“What else did you learn?” Wilbur questioned, desperate eyes looking towards his father with a raging storm brewing behind them. Wanting to hear every little detail that Phil had discovered whilst breaking the trust that no longer existed between Tommy and his father. “What else did he say?”
That was the very last question that Phil wished to answer, because Tommy’s story wasn’t the most detailed nor was it repeated as one coherent timeline. The ramblings of a grief-stricken child wishing to release all the truths that he had hidden away inside of his heart, a waterfall of information flowing off his tongue.
“Your brother isn’t exactly the best storyteller.” Phil admitted after an awkwardly long pause, staring into his cup before leaning forward and placing the drink upon the table which separated the father and son duo. “I don’t know if anything I say will make any sense.”
“And?” Wilbur asked, locking his father in place with a sharp look. Refusing to allow the man to weasel his way out of having this conversation with a pitiful excuse, even if that was never Phil’s intention. “You owe me this, I deserve to know the truth.”
Phil couldn’t deny Wilbur’s claim, knew better than anyone else that his eldest deserved to know what was happening to the brother he had been left to raise. Taking on the role of a father-figure in Phil’s absence, a role that Wilbur was much too young to bear.
This whole situation that they now found themselves in was beyond fucked.
“You left.” Phil stated ever so quietly, ignoring the way his heart clenched painfully inside of his chest at those two simple words. The acknowledgement that everything would have played out much the same if not for Tommy’s drastic change in behavior. “I wasn’t able to make it home in time for Tommy’s birthday. So you packed up everything that meant something and left.”
Wilbur’s eyes widened in disbelief, a sense of pride swelling inside of his chest at the strength and courage that his future counterpart possessed. Going through with all the make-shift plans that Wilbur had once fantasized about, running away from home and never looking back at what they had left behind… what little they had left behind.
“We… we left?”
Phil nodded his head with a pained expression, pointedly ignoring the twinkle in his son’s eyes.
“You burnt down the house, our house so that you couldn’t second guess your decision.” How heavy did that decision weigh on the conscience of mere children? Tossing a single match onto their childhood home and watching as it was consumed by flames, eating away the memories they had shared within those wooden walls. “And then you left to find a new place to call home, somewhere that had promised you a fresh start.”
Wilbur felt his heart soar at the thought, to leave behind the house that had brought him nothing but misery in the recent years. To travel the world and discover who exactly he was, the opportunity that he had been denied in exchange for raising his younger brother.
“Where–”
“And met Dream.”
Just like that, Wilbur’s world came crashing down all around him in a fiery hell. Viciously reminded that Tommy’s story didn’t have a pleasant ending, there was no happily ever after written down on the last page of this storybook.
The horrifying realization was lost on Wilbur, settling in the darkest pits of his stomach. A river of ice running through his veins as Wilbur slowly began piecing together the blues that had been given to him. That it had been neither Techno nor Phil that had led Dream to their doorstep, pointing their fingers towards Tommy and allowing the small child to be abused.
Wilbur had been the one who marched Tommy right to his own personal hell. Had sacrificed his younger brother in exchange for a taste of freedom.
“That’s–!” Wilbur shouted, rising to his feet in a matter of seconds. Wanting to lash out violently and adamantly deny Phil’s words, to scream at the top of his lungs that he hadn’t been the one who had hurt Tommy. He couldn’t have been the reason that Tommy had been harmed simply because they were trying to make new lives for themselves. “That isn’t my fault! I would never let Tommy be hurt, I would never let anyone even try to hurt him!”
“I know that you wouldn’t, Wilbur.” Phil said with an unwavering tone that allowed no room for argument. Staring deeply into the eyes of his trembling son, making sure that the teenager understood that Phil didn’t blame him for what had unfortunately happened to Tommy. “I don’t blame you for leaving, for what happened. Tommy doesn’t blame you for what happened. Because injuries both mental and physical are impossible to avoid in the midst of war.”
Wilbur didn’t believe that this story could get any worse, didn’t believe that his world could burn down around him any faster. Yet that single word sent him spiraling out of control, falling back upon the sofa cushion as quickly as he had risen. Stunned into silence as he tried to wrap his mind around the fact that somewhere along the lines of creating a new life, his family had found themselves tangled up in a war.
“You have got to be fucking kidding me.” Wilbur muttered, burying his face into the open palms of his hands. Believing that if he hid away his face, then it would in turn hide away all his sins and failures. “A war? We participated in a war?”
There was a reason as to why Phil had wanted to avoid this conversation at all cost, why he didn’t want to explain the story he had accidentally overheard outside of his youngest’s door. Knowing well that Wilbur would place the sole blame for what had happened upon himself, a fact that Tommy also understood when he explained to Tubbo how he never wanted Wilbur to learn the truth.
But this wasn’t a conversation that Phil could avoid, backed into a corner and made to answer all the questions that were being asked of him.
“He didn’t go into much detail about the war, skimmed over it as quickly as he possibly could. But he did explain to Tubbo how you all had been betrayed by someone you had trusted dearly. How that betrayal almost cost your life if not for Tommy declaring a duel which he ultimately lost.” Phil continued on, knowing that he couldn’t linger on certain sections in the story or else they would never finish. “Explained how he gave up his most prized possessions in exchange for the chance to forge your own nation, how proud you were of him for making that sacrifice.”
“Proud?!” Wilbur exclaimed, pulling his hands from his palms and looking towards his father in complete horror. Heart clenching horrifically tight within his chest, wanting to scream out that his father was a liar. “How could I be proud of him for having to give away his belongings, for what?! A piece of land?!”
How could he believe that, how could he accept that he allowed Tommy to place himself in danger in order to declare themselves leaders of a new land. That somewhere along the line Wilbur had placed the worth of a nation over the safety of his family, throwing both Tubbo and Tommy onto the frontline in order to protect that ideal.
The pride that he once felt for his future counterpart was rapidly disintegrating, vanishing just as quickly as it had appeared.
“That piece of land was something that you all believed in, a future you looked forward to.” Phil could vividly remember the pride in Tommy’s voice as he spoke of the nation that he had helped create, L’manberg. “Tommy at the very least believed in your dream, wanted to help you achieve it.”
“A future paved with the blood of those I love?!” Wilbur nearly screamed though he understood that Phil would never be able to give him the answers he sought. There was only one person who could possibly ever be able to properly explain his future-self’s thought process, a child who wasn’t meant to know that Wilbur had learned the truth behind his personality change. “How could I possibly sit idly by and allow that to happen? How could I live with myself knowing that Tommy almost died because of me?”
“You didn’t.”
Wilbur felt his heart nearly come to a sudden stop, blinking several times in absolute confusion as he stared at his father’s darkening expression. “Wha-what?”
Tommy hadn’t gone into very much detail about the future after the initial explanation of their departure and the war which followed. Giving as little information as physically possible, as if there were several incidents that Tommy didn’t want Tubbo to know about. It may not have been so obvious to the child listening to Tommy’s tale, but Phil was able to hear the slight waiver in his son’s voice when he reached certain points in his story.
“You didn’t live.” That single statement weighed heavy on Phil’s heart, something that he didn’t want to believe. “Neither Tommy nor yourself lived very long afterwards. You both died incredibly young, that was how Tommy was able to travel through time… because his soul left his body.”
Wilbur didn’t believe that this story could get any worse, couldn’t begin to wrap his mind around the thought of both Tommy and himself having their lives cut so tragically short. Originally wanting to escape a house that no longer felt like home and instead finding themselves falling upon a sword of their own creation.
It didn’t take a genius to piece together that Dream must have played a major part as to why the brothers hadn’t been able to form their own nation. The person who had most likely been behind both Tommy’s and his own death, the reason as to why Tommy’s mind was riddled with intense trauma.
The tears
The screams
The pain
The fear
Tommy had been molded into a child soldier, blindly following after his older brother’s shadow. A child who would have chased after his older brother to the ends of the world if Wilbur had asked as much.
Fighting endlessly for Wilbur’s dream and leaving with a number of scars sliced into his heart. Wilbur had seen as much since that fateful day when Tommy had awoken in a mess of tears and panic, screaming out for someone to stop hurting him… to stop murdering him.
The bile that welled in his throat burned, bringing tears to Wilbur’s eyes as he struggled to keep down his lunch. Placing hands across his lips in fear that he wouldn’t be able to keep his mouth sealed shut, spilling the disgusting mess across his father’s study.
So focused on maintaining his composure, Wilbur didn’t notice that Phil had lifted himself from his place on the sofa. Effortlessly crossing the room and taking a seat beside his son, reaching outwards and pulling Wilbur into his welcoming embrace. Burying the teen’s face into his shoulder, not caring that his clothes could become an absolute mess if Wilbur wasn’t able to hold back his sickness.
The action nearly caused Wilbur to unravel at the seams, unable to keep back the tears that began to freely flow down his cheeks. Wishing that he hadn’t pressured his father into explaining something that he had warned him about.
“This isn’t fair–” Whispered through his palms, refusing to remove his hands even when it became rather difficult to breathe. “None of this is fair.”
Phil’s eyes softened immensely at those fragile words, threading gentle fingers through Wilbur’s mess of curls. Wishing that he could have stopped these events from happening, that the ‘Phil’ in the other timeline hadn’t been quite so foolish. That he would have realized his mistakes before losing both of his sons, being present in their lives before they decided to venture off into the world on their own.
“...It isn’t fair.” Phil felt the overwhelming urge to cry himself, to weep for the two children who had been forced to grow up far too fast. “But we’ll make it better, we won’t make the same mistakes.”