Tainted Perception | Wilbur Soot Angst (ORIGINAL)

Instincts

TW: Swearing, light mention of injuries

A/N: Hi, I'm alive lol. Gosh, I need to get better at updating. Only OG's will remember the daily uploads. Anyway, take this content.

 Techno's house was warm, the fire crackling in the corner, the occasional bark cutting through the silence of the arctic air. Everything was so... quiet. Wilbur paced nervously as he waited for his twin to come back, the pinkett had yet to say anything to him except for basic instructions, his face kept blank. Where had he gone again?

Oh, to get bandages. Right. Shaking his head, he sat down again, sparing a short glance at the enderman across from him, keeping his gaze below their eyes.

"Hi," he greeted anxiously, not quite sure what he was doing. The mob let out a small sound, similar to what they made when wandering around the world. Wilbur just nodded, not knowing what it meant.

Suddenly, a noise had the ghost whipping around, his eyes darting around nervously.

"Oh! Hi, Techno." Wilbur paused, trying to recall their previous interactions. How did he get here? "Um, how- how are you?" The pinkett's face flickered, before returning to it's emotionless mask as he held out a roll of bandages, gesturing vaguely towards the ghost's body. "Um, thanks," Will accepted gratefully, expertly deciding which were worth wrapping, before pulling the gauze tight, keeping the blood stenched.

"So..." the pig hybrid started, trailing off as he gathered his thoughts. "You're..."

"A ghost?" Techno nodded. "I guess."

"Do you remember how you died?" Wilbur tilted his head up slightly, struggling to recall the events. The feeling of wood beneath his palm, the heat of an explosion, the flash of something metal, a sharp pain, resentment. The man inhaled quickly, before managing a small nod, not caring about the emotion showing on his face. Techno seemed to process this information, his eyes widening slightly. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be. I'm sure it wasn't your fault." The pinkett winced, but said nothing.

"You can stay as long as you need, I have plenty of room." Wilbur immediately brightened, a smile decorating his face as he stood slowly. This wasn't too bad.

-

Wilbur woke up with a start, his body jolting upwards despite its own protests. What the fuck? Sighing, the man made his way downstairs slowly, savoring the time spent without the stress of Phil worrying over him.

"Hey, mate." Speak of the devil.

"Hi."

"You hungry?"

"N-" he paused, considering, "a little," the man amended. Phil smiled, one of his first in a while. That's because of me. Wilbur shook the thought off. He didn't have to deal with that right now.

"What do you want?"

"Um, just toast or something." Phil nodded, already making his way towards the pantry. Sitting down awkwardly at the counter, Wilbur reached for his water, his fingers barely brushing the edge of the rim.

Clang! Wilbur flinched back, his hands instinctively brushing at the water as if it was acid. Why did I do that? It was just water. Shaking his head, the man quickly grabbed some paper towels, cleaning the liquid up efficiently. What was wrong with him?

-

It had barely been a day since Phil had told them Wilbur had been shot, and already he was back to radio silence. Fuckin' old men. Tommy thought sarcastically, shaking his head. He should probably pay attention in class, but whatever, probably wasn't important.

Tapping his finger anxiously, the boy quickly went through a mental checklist of everything he had to do. Essay for English, vocab for Chemistry, there was also something for his computer science class, he couldn't quite remember, though. He'd find out later. When he would do this he had no idea. He had to stream after school.

Wait- No one was streaming because of the whole Wilbur thing, avoiding the drama. Well, more time to do homework, he supposed. His favorite. Maybe he could drag Tubbo into a call with him so they could suffer together. That's what friends are for, right?

"-ommy?" the blond quickly glanced up, slapping at the hand waving in front of his face.

"What?"

"The bell just rang, dude."

"Oh, thanks," Tommy said gratefully, quickly stuffing his stuff into his backpack, not caring about being organized. He would figure it out later. Yawning, the boy quickly ran out the door, shouting a quick "see you later" to his teacher, before entering the hallway for passing period. He couldn't wait to get home. 

I honestly have no idea how to end this yet (well, I have one semi-good one), so feel free to drop theories that I definitely won't use as an ending if I like it/it works, and in this completely hypothetical situation I would give you credit, of course.  

Have a wonderful day/night!