Stolen Chances

Chapter Fourteen

Tommy was deeply invested in his pokemon game when there was another knock on the door. Tommy looked up at it, confused when the door didn't open before responding, "Come in?" Slowly, Wilbur creaked the door open with a nervous look. Tommy frowned, "No."

Wilbur sighed, "Toms-"

"No." Tommy was focusing back on his game, not giving Wilbur the time of day.

"I just want to talk-"

"I'll call Philza on your ass."

Wilbur raised a confused brow at this before opening the door wider, revealing a plate of food he was holding, "I brought you dinner."

Tommy sighed, "Leave it then."

Wilbur frowned, "Toms."

Tommy groaned before crossing his arms, "If you piss me off, I'm screaming for Phil."

Wilbur gave him a weak smile before walking further into the room, "I'll try my best then."

"You're already failing," Tommy muttered as he saved his game before grabbing the plate of food from Wilbur.

Wilbur sat at the edge of the bed while Tommy pushed the food around. It was mac n cheese this time. He knew these fuckers made bank in the cheese business. They thought they could fool him. "I'm sorry."

Tommy whipped his head up from the food staring at Wilbur with a sharp look, "I beg your pardon?"

Wilbur was folding his hands in his lap, not making eye contact as he had an almost hurt expression on his face, "I'm sorry I hurt you, Toms. You were right. I spouted threats to the ones who hurt you before while I sat on some sort of high throne, but I hurt you within the same breath."

Tommy frowned as he finally got a good look at the state Wilbur was in. There was something tired in the lines of his face matching the dark circles under his eyes and messed up fringe. "Why did you do it then?"

Wilbur sighs before turning to face Tommy. Considering the teen for a moment before speaking, "Because I'm a hypocrite." Fingers drag roughly through the wild curls of his fringe, clenching down with a self-deprecating smile, "You remind me of Technoblade. Not in personality but how I feel around you. It's not paternal but protective. Brotherly."

Something dark glimmers in Wilbur's eyes. "I want to scoop you up and protect you from the cruelties of the world, hide you for myself." Wilbur's mouth curves with a smile edging on too many teeth, "But I also want to throw you in the middle of things and watch how you burn everything around you like a phoenix. I- I'm a moth to a flame really, and it's kind of ridiculous, but Toms, if you wanted to see the world burn, I don't think there's anything that could stop me from handing you a matchbox," The words make Tommy shiver but not out of fear. It's that fact that's the most terrifying to him.

There's a moment of silence, Tommy staring at Wilbur, Wilbur looking right back at him, searching his eyes for something Tommy doesn't understand before his body-language shifts, softening, the sharp glimmer in his eyes turning warm as he lets out a sigh and Tommy draws a breath. "And I know, that's probably the last thing you want to hear from some mafia fuck head with a complex. But Tommy, as much as you say you wouldn't have gotten hurt if you hadn't met us, to begin with... you robbed that house of your own volition. You stole those files on your own initiative. You came back with a gun you didn't even know how to fire. Why?"

Tommy hums, "I guess... I guess I'm a hypocrite, too, Wilbur."

"I guess we're both hypocrites," Wilbur agrees with a curl of his lips.

Don't get Tommy wrong. He didn't forgive Wilbur. He lied and nearly got Tommy killed. Tommy didn't plan to work for him again, and he'd much rather pretend he never met the man, to begin with. But he could also admit that someone caring for him so fiercely was... different. It was nice. Until he remembers, he also got blown up.