A Step By Step Guide To Mortality

Dear Wilbur,

Wilbur thought about the letter all night. Now that it's morning, it hasn't gotten any easier. He knows Tommy is going to taunt him during school if he doesn't read it now.

There is a universe of unknown growing on Wilbur's chest.

It is built up of all the feelings that come with Technoblade leaving, of all the uncertainty that Tommy is okay, and all the peculiar set of emotions Wilbur feels for his parents who haven't contacted him in a little more than four months. The universe of unknown grows a little bit bigger with each second he spends staring at the letter set out on a blanket.

Wilbur paces the room back and forth, occasionally pausing to stare nervously at the wrinkled letter on his bed. His name is written on the front of the beige envelope.

Dear Wilbur .

It's written in the neat writing of Technoblade. Technoblade who shares his notes with Wilbur in history class. Technoblade who didn't hesitate to protect Tommy without even knowing him. Technoblade who is one of Wilbur's closest friends.

Wilbur's stomach twists in knots nervously. He paces, chest rising and falling swiftly.

Wilbur pauses by the small mirror hanging in his room.

The mirror makes him look completely different compared to the one in his room at home.

He looks less tired, the rings around his eyes mostly gone. At home, he remembers the dark circles below his eyes, the heaviness of his eyelids.

His hair is less greasy; that's the biggest perk of living with Phil. It's fluffy now, better groomed now he's off the streets.

And his face has regained a bit of healthy weight now that he's eating properly. He looks better, but different.

Of course, it's still him. It's the same frayed cyan sweater and the same imperfect smile.

Wilbur just didn't realise how much of him Phil had brought to the surface.

How much that Techno had brought to the surface.

He needs to rip the bandaid off. Get it over and done with.

Wilbur's mind is reeling. He doesn't understand how Techno could have written an apology so quickly. It doesn't make any sense. What does Techno even have to apologise for? It was Wilbur who did the punching.

Techno didn't hit back. Never. Not once did he strike Wilbur in self defence.

Wilbur feels guilt wash through him and he has to stop himself from grabbing at his hair and tugging it.

Maybe the apology is rubbish. Yeah, it's probably shit. Maybe it's a bullshitted-two sentence-no effort letter that is meant to only be an excuse so the teachers get off his back.

Yeah, that makes the most sense. Right?

Right?

Wilbur walks up to the bed and sits down. He grabs the letter with a shaky hand. It has to be a joke.

That would be on brand for Techno. Techno only wrote the letter to get it out of the way. It would make everything a lot easier for Wilbur. That way, he could just do the same.

And then things could...

Things could go back to normal.

Wilbur misses normal.

He clenches his jaw, turning the envelope over and tearing it open gently.

With a deep breath and an unsteady hand, Wilbur pulls out the piece of paper and reads carefully through the letter.