TW: Blood, injury, gore, swearing, derealization, hospitals
A/N: HUUGGEEE ANNOUNCEMENT AT END OF CHAPTER (also the next chapter for Attached is also out right now!)
"Will?! Will, oh my gosh!" Phil yelled as he ran towards the man, hoping against hope the red wasn't what he thought it was. Skidding to a stop beside him, he fell to his knees. There was so much blood. The sticky substance coating his hands as he pulled Will's shirt up gingerly, checking the wound.
Why wouldn't he wake up? Fumbling with his phone, he quickly dialed for emergency services, his other hand applying pressure to the wound. At least all of those crime shows taught him something.
"This is 999, what's your emergency?"
"My- my friend is- is bleeding, like- like a lot,"
"Okay, can you tell me where you are?" they asked calmly, their tone not seeming to match the mood that Phil was in.
"Fuck, one sec," he responded, running out of the alley, scanning for a street sign. "It's- it's {insert street name}, we're in an alley."
"Okay, we're on our way. We'll be there in about seven minutes. (I'm trusting you, Google) Can you check if the person is still conscious?"
Phil quickly ran back, even though he already knew the answer. Adrenaline does weird things to the human brain. "He- he's unconscious. Um, I- I think he was shot? That's- that's what it looks like, anyway. Fuck, um, it's his side, right above his right hip," he rambled, not quite sure what to say or do.
"I'm going to ask you to do two things for me, okay?" they asked gently.
"Okay," Phil responded quickly, willing to do anything to help Wilbur.
"First, I need you to check if the bullet went all the way through his body, okay?" Phil nodded, even though he knew the person couldn't see him. With shaky hands, he pulled the man's shirt up slightly, checking his back for an exit wound. There was one.
"It's- it's clean. It went through."
"Okay, good. Now, I need you to apply pressure, as much as you can. We're almost to you."
"Okay, okay." Phil panted, fumbling to pull off his jacket, pushing it against the wound. It was the longest minutes of his life. Anxiously waiting while his friend bled out under him, the red substance coating his hands and clothes, only heightening the sense of surrealness. This couldn't be happening.
-
"Hello!" Wilbur greeted happily, not quite sure why Tommy looked so stricken. Wouldn't his brother be happy to see him?
"This- this can't be happening. No, no, I'm hallucinating, I've gone fuckin' mad! You're- you're dead! I- I saw you, you're dead!"
"Tommy, are you alright?" Wilbur asked, glancing behind him, maybe he was talking to someone else? There was no one. "What- what do you mean, I'm dead, Tommy?"
"I mean you fuckin' died! I saw it! Dad- Dad killed you!"
"I- I don't know what you mean," Wilbur stated, confused.
"Fucking, look at yourself!" The man glanced down, then gasped. He was transparent, well, translucent, really. His skin and clothes now varying shades of gray.
"Oh," Wilbur said in surprise, his brain barely seeming to process it. "Well- well, how did I get here, then?"
"How would I know?!" Tommy yelled, backing away.
"Tommy, I-" The boy took another step back.
"No. No, you fucking stay away from me." Wilbur stopped moving, respecting his brother's wishes, no matter how much it hurt.
"Okay, okay I will," he agreed quickly, not wanting to scare Tommy more.
"Okay. Okay, good." Wilbur kept his face straight, ignoring the pang in his stomach from the distrust in Tommy's voice. It wasn't his fault, was it? There was probably just one huge misunderstanding. Yeah! That was it.
"Will! Will, please wake up!" The man whipped around, looking for the source of the mysterious voice. He knew that voice.
"Hello?" he called hesitantly.
"Please, Will, just wake up!"
"I'm- I'm already awake?" Suddenly, the scene started to dissolve. "Wha- what's happening?!" But he couldn't hear himself. A loud, ringing sound had filled his ears.
"Will!"
-
Wilbur woke up slowly, his eyes squinting in the bright lights. Everything hurt. What happened? His gaze travelled haphazardly throughout the room, his eyes not seeming to want to focus on any one, particular object. Oh. He remembered what happened.
His hand flew to his side, which he immediately regretted. Pain seared through his body at the sudden contact, making his eyes water. Managing to sit up slightly, he (more gently) ran his fingers over the bandages that covered his torso, being careful not to tear anything loose.
"You're awake." His head whipped around, trying to find the source of the voice. Phil.
"Y-yeah," he answered hesitantly, still slightly on guard.
"How- how do you feel?"
"Like shit," he answered bluntly, not caring anymore.
"That- that makes sense."
"What-" he hesitated, "What happened?" Phil took a deep breath, that probably wasn't good.
"What do you remember?"
"I remember- I remember being on the phone with Dream, and then- and then running to the alley. Then- then I got- I got shot," he looked up from his fidgeting hands, indicating the end of his story.
"Well," Phil paused, presumably gathering his thoughts. "Well, after you ran, I went after you, though you had a significant head start. I ran into a fan of ours who happened to see you, and they told me where you went." The man took a deep breath, preparing himself for the next part. "I- I found you almost dead in that alley, blood all around you like a fucking horror movie." Wilbur winced, thinking of the scene that had probably greeted Phil.
"I'm sorry," he whispered, not daring to meet the man's eyes.
"Don't be. I'm just glad you're alright."
The A/N is very long, but it is very important, so please read (unless you already read it in Attached, it's the same).
As most of you know, I finished Unpredictable | Wilbur Soot Angst about five months ago (March 19, 2021, crazy I know). And, this story, has blown up. It is still crazy to me that it is so successful even still. I really do want to thank you guys, you have given me nothing but support, and have really given me the confidence I needed. And, don't worry, I'm not stopping writing, or anything like that. Quite the opposite, really. I am really close to two HUGE goals, both the 100K views mark or Unpredictable (which is insane), and 200 followers (equally insane). Now you must be thinking, how is that relevant? Well, when one of those goals is reached, doesn't matter which, I will do a second epilogue for that story! Now, I wasn't planning on this, it wasn't some huge scheme of mine, or anything. Someone actually suggested a while back that I should do a "2 years later" sort of thing, and I thought it was cool, but I was done with the story and wasn't really planning on doing it. Then, the idea came to me, and here we are! Again, thank you guys so so much, and have a wonderful day/night!
PS: I know for a fact that some of you didn't read that, so here's a summary:
At either 100K views on Unpredictable, or 200 followers, I will do a second epilogue for the previously mentioned story, and also thank you so much for the support (next time just read the A/N, you just read a 946 word chapter)
YOU ARE READING
Tainted Perception | Wilbur Soot Angst (ORIGINAL)
Fanfiction(ORIGINAL) Wilbur was dead, simple as that. It was a bit lonely, being in that train station, but it wasn't terrible. Then the impossible happened, he woke up. It wasn't real. How could it not be real? How could all of the things he had experienced...
