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Wilbur hates amusement parks.
He’s sweaty and sticky and a little out of breath. It’s hot out, sunny, there are too many people and he has completely lost track of his dad and brother.
“Hello?” asks a voice, small and childlike. “Can you help me? I’m lost.”
Wilbur turns, rolling his eyes over the inconvenience of it all, planning to tell the kid to f--- off- stopping short when he actually sees him.
The boy’s tiny, wearing an oversized sweater, but it’s not that that gives Wilbur pause. No, it’s the colorlessness of him, the vague transparency- the blue substance smeared on the side of his face, matted in his hair like blood.
He swallows harshly. He’s never been much inclined to believe in the supernatural, but it’s hard to deny that creatures like vampires exist when his brother is one. Why shouldn’t ghosts be real, too?
Wilbur squats in front of the kid, trying to force himself to smile. “Hi, buddy,” he says softly. “What’s going on?”
The boy scrubs his arm over his eyes. “I lost my brother. Can you help me find him?”
There’s no knowing how long the little boy’s been here. How long his ghost has been wandering around the park.
“Sure,” Wilbur whispers anyway. “What’s your name?”
“Um…” The boy frowns. “I… I don’t remember.” His voice echoes a little, and his form flickers, going almost completely invisible for a second. “I don’t… why don’t I remember…”
“Hey,” Wilbur says, desperate to stop the kid’s panic. “Hey, it’s okay, buddy. I can- I can give you a nickname, how ‘bout that?”
Cornflower blue eyes fix in on his, and the boy nods, tiny and shaky. He’s so small, so little, and Wilbur’s heart breaks at the sudden, full realization that- that this is a ghost. The ghost of a child.
“You uh- you look like a Tommy,” he says, stumbling over his words. “How’s that, can I call you Tommy?”
Tears are immediately replaced by a smile, almost blinding in its brightness. “Okay!” Tommy chirps. He grabs Wilbur’s hand- Wilbur shivers at the coldness of it, a chill that goes straight to his bones. “Can you help me look for my brother now?”
Wilbur does not say that there’s no way Tommy’s brother is still here, in the park. Wilbur does not tell Tommy that even if they could find his brother, he couldn’t go back to his old life.
What Wilbur does say, softly and gently, is, “Yes.”
He stands, and Tommy gazes up at him with undisguised awe.
“You’re so tall!”
“Yeah, I suppose I am.” Wilbur swallows down a wave of grief, at the thought of this little kid who never got to grow up. Never will. “Where did you last see your brother, buddy?”
“Um…” Tommy looks around. “I dunno.”
“Okay,” Wilbur says softly. “How about we walk around and look for him, okay?”
“’kay.” Tommy brightens at that, swinging Wilbur’s hand as they start walking. “You’re, like, the nicest guy I ever met!”
“Oh, yeah?” Wilbur tries to act casual about this. Like assisting ghost children is a normal everyday thing for him.
“Yeah! You gave me a name ‘n’ everything.” The boy grins up at him, teeth also stained with blue.
Wilbur tousles curls that might have once been blond, ignoring the tacky feeling of the blue substance on his fingers. Ignoring the way his heart flips at the simple statement. The poor kid- “Well, thanks, Tommy. You’re pretty cool too.”
Another gap-toothed smile. Wilbur wants to cry.
They wander for a bit. Tommy keeps getting distracted, running to look at everything. Wilbur plays a few games, because he can’t resist the power of Tommy’s puppy-dog eyes, and wins him a plush sheep that’s the size of the boy’s head. A sheep Tommy promptly names Friend, beaming as he hugs the toy.
Wilbur’s pretty sure Tommy’s not even looking for his brother anymore.
But it’s getting late, and he needs to find Phil and Techno and go home.
“Tommy,” Wilbur says, heart already breaking, “I- I have to go home now, buddy.”
“What?” Tommy pouts. “No, you can’t go.”
“My family’s waiting for me.” Wilbur squats, brushing back Tommy’s hair gently. “I really have to go, I’m sorry.”
“Can I come with you? Please?”
Tommy’s face is so pleading that Wilbur just can’t say no.
Oh, Phil is gonna kill him for this. Or love him- Phil dotes on kids, as evidenced by the fact that he adopted two.
“Okay.” Wilbur mentally kicks himself. “But uh- just for tonight, okay?”
Phil does not, in fact, kill him.
Techno looks like he’d like to, but even he is quickly won over by the boy’s cheerful demeanor- and maybe, partially, brought to sympathy at the kid’s plight.
In the car, while Tommy chatters to Techno and Phil, Wilbur subtly pulls out his phone and does some googling.
Missing child cases in the area in the last couple years. He soon finds Tommy’s face staring back at him, the gap in his teeth on full display as he grins at the camera. All bright eyes and golden hair and pure f---ing life.
His real name is Theseus. He was reported missing ten months ago by his mother, who- Wilbur finds through another search- is now dead. He has a brother, Dream, and Wilbur considers reaching out to him.
In the morning, he decides. The kid is dead, it’ll only bring his brother grief to find that out.
“Tommy,” Wilbur asks quietly that night, when he’s settled the kid down for bed- can ghosts sleep? he doesn’t have any f---ing clue- “do you know somebody named Dream?”
Tommy- who had been quiet, snuggled down clutching Friend- sits up, frowning. “He… he’s my brother. I think?”
“Yeah,” Wilbur says softly. “Yeah, he’s… what else do you remember?”
The air goes icy cold. Tommy curls up in a tight little ball. “I- no, no… he wouldn’t, he didn’t, did he?”
Wilbur reaches for him, hands trembling, despite the cold. Despite a feeling that he shouldn’t. “What did he do, honey?” he murmurs.
“He-” Tommy whines, wrapping his arms tighter around himself. “He- he- he hit me- he hit me really hard and it- it hurt, Wilby- it hurt so bad-”
“At the amusement park?” Wilbur asks, because his heart hurts and it’s so cold and he has to know. He needs to hear it, that Tommy’s brother did what Wilbur thinks he did, because then he can tell Phil to call the police.
“Uh huh.” Tommy clutches his head, blue leaking onto his fingers and staining his sleeves. “He- he hit me in the head and it- and it hurt- it hurt a lot. And then I fell asleep I think. And then- and then I- I-”
“It’s okay,” Wilbur says, even though it’s not. He hugs Tommy, the cold lessening as he tucks the little boy’s head against his shoulder. “Shh, baby, it’s okay now. It’s all better now.”
“It hurts Wilby.” Tommy sobs, gripping Wilbur’s shirt. “It still hurts-”
“Shh, I know. Shh, shh, it’s gonna be all better now.” Wilbur looks past Tommy, his own eyes wet with tears as he meets Phil’s gaze. Techno’s expression, a calm mask to hide the rage Wilbur knows must be simmering underneath. “I’ve got you, Tommy. I’ve got you, you’re okay now.”