Tommyinnit Oneshots (With SBI) (Book 2)

Meant to Protect (Tommy and Wilbur)(1/?)

Wilbur POV

Wilbur never planned on having the kid around. In fact, he had planned on getting rid of him the first moment he could. Not in a heartless way, like dumping him in the middle of nowhere or offering him to one of the other clans to "look after". He simply wanted to find someone else who was willing to look after the kid. Unfortunately that was difficult.

The problem wasn't that people didn't want to take him, they did. But no one wanted to actually look after him like Wilbur had. They wanted him for bait for hunting or as a person servant that was meant to listen to hang on every order they had, no matter how dangerous. They didn't seem to understand that Tommy was a kid.

Or maybe they did, but that only made it worse.

So after so many years of trying to find someone to look after him, Wilbur gave up. He accepted the fact that was stuck with the obnoxious blonde. The kid that was awful at hunting because he couldn't stand hurting the animals. The kid that couldn't stand being told what to do, which made everything ten times more difficult. The kid who just wouldn't shut up or leave him alone, even when Wilbur snapped at him. The kid that just never went away.

And Wilbur hated it.

He had hated Tommy the moment he met him. 

It had been Winter, the harshest one Wilbur had ever seen. Everything had been more difficult that year. Food was scarce. The temperatures didn't want to stay above freezing, even in the day time. And Wilbur couldn't seem to escape a cold. But despite how awful everything was and how terrible he felt, he continued with his daily routines.

Checking the animal traps for rabbits or squirrels, mending parts of the roof that often fell through, scavenging for any herbs he so desperately needed to find. It was during that very routine, halfway through the winter, that Wilbur discovered him.

He had found the blonde laying in the snow, tear tracks running down his face, his hands grasping the trap that dug its teeth into his foot. He had passed out for some time, considering the snow that was slowly beginning to bury him.

It took only a few minutes for Wilbur to remove the trap from his foot, mentally cursing himself. Scooping the blonde into his arms, he didn't hesitate to bring him back to his camp. The kid shivered in his arms, wrapped in nothing but a thin t-shirt. What was he doing out here all alone?

As soon as he had reached his camp, he set about warming up the boy as much as he could. He grabbed all the blankets off his bed and his warmest jacket. He wrapped the boy up in the warmth as tightly as he could, gently taking off his thin t-shirt in the process. He could only pray the boy didn't have hypothermia. He wasn't equip for that.

Once he was sure the boy was warm, Wilbur sat beside him. He observed the boy as he mumbled in his sleep, taking in the new scar that was healing over his eye. Who was this boy? Better yet, why was he helping him?

The thought had made him pause. What was he doing? He didn't know this kid. This kid could kill him in his sleep for all he knew. Jumping to his feet, he was about grab the nearest weapon, when he heard the boy groan.

"Hmmmm," the blonde mumbled, cuddling deeper into the blankets.

Wilbur froze, hating the way his heart melted at the adorable sight. No. He was quick to shake his head. His eyes hardened as he forced himself to frown. He could not get attached again. He refused to get attached again. Ignoring the warm feeling in his chest, he began to list the things he hated about the boy.

He was going to have to share his already thinning stash of food. Blonde was a terrible hair color too, he thought. So bright and innocent. And forget about having any privacy. He was going to have to share everything he had with the stupid boy. And worst of all this boy was innocent. Too innocent for this world. And Wilbur couldn't handle that.