raspberries and dirt

11. home

"So this is it?" Wilbur asked Quackity. When he had joined the alliance, he had expected a bit more than two teens with no supplies or weapons playing poker in an abandoned subway tunnel.

Quackity rolled his eyes. "Of course not. Do you expect me to live in a filthy train tunnel?"

Quackity seemed like a very grand person. He would be one to live in a mansion and be dissatisfied. He did not seem like the person to live in a subway tunnel; Wilbur would give him that. Quackity was the person who wanted the very best and didn't care who got in the way.

Wilbur shrugged. "Where's your secret hideout, then?"

"It's not a hideout. It's a base. And it's not too far from here, only about a half hour's walk."

"How big is it?" Wilbur questioned. He had seen people who had claimed little spots around cities and called it their "base," but he had no experience with them himself. Tommy, Tubbo, and Wilbur moved too often for bases; instead, they had temporary campsites.

Quackity smiled. "You'll see."

So Wilbur rounded up Tommy and Tubbo, grabbed his guitar, and they continued on their journey that never seemed to have an ending.
_____

Wilbur grimaced.

"Your base is in a literal sewer."

Quackity sighed. "I know that, dipshit. It's where I live."

"Ugh! You live in a sewer?" Tommy exclaimed.

"Yes, Tommy, now climb down the ladder and get in already before I shove you down."

Tommy climbed down the ladder.

Wilbur heard a gasp from down below. "Is everything alright in there, Tommy?" he called down.

Quackity gestured towards the manhole. "Go in and find out."

This seemed very much like a trap, but if Tommy got hurt, then Wilbur would never forgive himself. Wilbur placed his feet on the rungs of the ladder and went down.

Holy shit.

Quackity's base was beautiful.

The sewer was spotless, and the ground was covered in pieces of moss, layered together to form a carpet of sorts. Ivy crept along the walls and roof, and cracked, dusty lightbulbs hung from the ceiling.

It was nice, it was safe, it was clean.

But it didn't feel like home.

Home was with Tubbo and Tommy in a flower field underneath the stars.

This was not home.
_____

Tubbo and Tommy were having the time of their lives. They raced each other down the sewer and then played a game of hide-and-seek.

"Is it just you guys here? This space is massive for two people."

The base was massive in general, but Wilbur didn't want to show that he was impressed.

Karl spoke up. "No, actually. There are two more people in the alliance with us. They should be returning soon enough."

And he was right. The manhole cover opened shortly after, and two men came inside.

One was tall and looked around twenty. His exposed arms were marred with scars, along with a bit of his face. Battle scars. Wilbur didn't know what made those scars and didn't want to find out. A crown studded with shimmering jewels sat on top of his long, hibiscus-pink hair.

The other was slightly shorter, with blond hair and a green-and-white striped bucket hat. Wings, honest-to-God wings sprouted out of his back. The wings were off-white, with the occasional black feather sprinkled in. He chatted merrily with the pink-haired man.

The pink-haired man stopped and stared at Quackity when he noticed Wilbur.

"Who the hell is this?"

Quackity wasn't fazed. "A traveler and his buddies. I picked them up, and they joined our alliance."

The man took a step forward. "You just invited them? You know how it went last time."

Quackity grinned. "This guy won't do it. I can just tell. He cares a lot about those kids. He wouldn't put them in danger by betraying us."

The man sighed and turned back to the guy in the bucket hat.

"Did you know anything about this?"

Bucket Hat Man shrugged. "I know as much as you do."

Tommy had finally noticed the new people and gasped. He rushed over to the pink-haired man.

"Tommy, wait-" Wilbur tried to stop Tommy before he did something stupid.

Tommy went up to the man and asked, "Can I braid your hair?"

Excuse me? Tommy knew how to braid hair?

"I guess?" the man said, shocked.

Tommy was completely serious as he told the man to sit and take his crown off. He divided the man's hair into three sections and crossed them over one another over and over until it formed a long braid. He pulled an almost-dead flower from his pocket and tucked it into the braid.

"Done!" Tommy proclaimed proudly and then rushed off to play another round of tag with Tubbo.

The man stared at Tommy as he chased Tubbo, his arms stretched out in an attempt to grab him.

He turned to Wilbur. "Is your little human thing always this odd?"

"He's not my little human thing, he's Tommy. And I've never seen him braid hair. Or stop talking for more than thirty seconds. I didn't even know he knew how to braid hair."

The man brushed a loose piece of hair that had escaped the braid away from his face. "I'm Technoblade."

Wilbur shook his hand. "Wilbur."

Wilbur turned to the other man and extended his hand towards him. "And you are?"

"Phil," he told Wilbur. "Pleasure to meet you. You've been taking care of those kids on your own?"

Wilbur nodded.

"Good job there, kiddo. They seemed to have turned out just fine."

Wilbur's heart squeezed at someone calling him 'kiddo.' No one had called him that since...

His mother.

Before the flood.

Before she died.

Wilbur managed a smile. "Thank you. It's been hard work, but they never starved."

Phil put a hand on his shoulder and pulled him away from Techno, Karl, and Quackity.

Then he did the unexpected.

He pulled Wilbur into a hug.

Wilbur pressed his face against Phil's chest, silent tears streaming down his cheeks.

Now, with Tommy and Tubbo and Phil, his family, this old sewer felt like home.