My Wilbur (a villain tommy story)

Tommy's Wilbur

Tommy hummed contentedly as he petted Wilbur's hair. It was hard to believe a moment ago he'd been so upset. Now he was sleeping so peacefully in Tommy's lap. Tommy smiled, Wilbur looked so much younger when he was asleep. The lines in his face formed from years of stress and hardship seeming to melt away. Why couldn't it always be this peaceful? Wilbur had no idea how stressed he'd been. Having to leave everyday to go find food and potions ingredients. He was running out of blaze powder so he might have to find a hidden spot to build a nether portal but that risked leading Phil right to them. He also had to make sure all the traps were working properly, otherwise how could he hope to defend their home? Every time he left he worried Wilbur would be gone when he came back. Until now his broken foot had hindered too much for him to escalate but now that it was healed Tommy would have to find new ways to stop him. So far the nausea potion seemed promising but he would have to be careful about going to the nether to get more ingredients.
There was no use worrying about that now. It was dark out and the cabin was lit by torchlight and the fireplace that Tommy and Wilbur sat in front of. It was a quiet night. Maybe one day he wouldn't have to think of ways to stop Wilbur from leaving. Maybe one Wilbur would see that Tommy had done all this because he cares about Wilbur. His brother, his Wilbur. Not Phil's or Fundy's or Ranboo's or Quackity's, and not fucking Utah's. He was Tommy's. Tommy hugged Wilbur close, as if he would disappear at any moment. Wilbur grumbled some kind of protest in his sleep, so Tommy loosened his grip. He took a few deep breaths, and pulled a blanket that lay at the end of the couch on top the two of them. For now he shut out the fears of losing his brother, leaned back into the cushions, and fell asleep.

* * *

When Tommy awoke, Wilbur was gone. He jumped, his breath picking up. How could he have been so stupid? Of course Wilbur would take his opportunity the second the drugs wore off. He should have been more careful. He ran out towards the front door only to stop in the kitchen.
"Wilbur?"
"Oh, good morning Tommy." He was just standing there in the kitchen. He appeared to be making pancakes.
"I thought you would have run away."
"But I didn't."
"Why didn't you?"
Wilbur tilted his head to side, as if thinking about his answer carefully. He flipped a pancake.
"Honestly I'm not sure" he shrugged. "I thought about it, climbing down that mountain. Maybe it's because I was still dizzy from the potion, and afraid of climbing down the mountain. Maybe I was afraid you'd wake up and catch me before I even got out the door, or maybe I was just hungry" he gestured to the pancakes, which were now ready.
The two sat down to eat. They ate in silence for a while, and for a while after they finished, and remained silent until Tommy thought of something.
"You could have drugged the food, I've done it to you plenty of times. You could have made so I couldn't chase you for hours. Why didn't you?"
Wilbur sighed, "Tommy I don't know where you keep your potions."
"Oh."
"Even if I did I don't think I could do that to you."
"Even after everything?"
"Even after everything" Wilbur confirmed.
This was what Tommy wanted wasn't it? For Wilbur to act like his brother again. To have a conversation without fighting. Why did he feel so confused?
"Aren't you mad? I mean, I tricked you into eating drugged soup."
"I'm not angry. I'm just sad, and I wish we could go back to the way things were before everything, but we can't."
"So you just accepted the way things are now?"
"Not exactly, but I see now that we have to keep moving forward."
Tommy wasn't stupid. He knew there was plenty Wilbur wasn't saying. That look in his eye. Tommy hadn't seen that look before. It reminded him a little of what Wilbur was like during the l'manburg election but different. Back then he was all poetry and philosophy and shit. Now Tommy couldn't understand what was going on in his head, and it made his skin crawl.
"Um, I'll do the dishes" Tommy said, as he got up hurriedly. He wanted to remove himself from Wilbur's gaze as soon as possible. That expression like Wilbur knew more than him or something. I was infuriating. Yeah that's what it was. Infuriating. Infuriating and nothing else. Maybe Tommy should just drug him again. Then Wilbur wouldn't look a him like that, but no. He shook his head at the idea. He couldn't that again right after they'd made progress. Not right after they'd finally had a civil conversation that wasn't drug induced, and Wilbur had made him breakfast. Wilbur had done something nice for him. Tommy resolved that he would have to do something nice for Wilbur too, like get him a journal to write in, or bake his favourite cake but with no drugs this time.
Tommy pushed aside his anxieties about Wilbur's new attitude and smiled. He was one step closer to having his brother back.