It wasn't your fault ~Dream SMP/ Sleepy Bois Inc

It Wasn't Your Fault

Justa little info for the story

-This is sorta my own AU. I did change a couple of events that happen during the hole exile in order for it to fit into the story
-And this is a song fic. The song I used is Safe and sound by Taylor Swift and The Civil Wars.

It was dark. The room feeling stuffy and damp. It almost felt like a cell. The rough stone walls that held the room were chilling. Despite the atmosphere the room was not physically cold. The man sitting in the only chair in the room made sure of that. Making sure to keep the room warm was after all important right now.

He sat quietly. Prominent tear tracks were seen on his face. The tears have long since dried up. He just quietly sat there. Brown fluffy hair in his brown eyes. He sat curled up in the chair staring at the body on the bed. He stared at the injured boy with a sad look in his eyes. He didn't want to cry right now. He was tired of crying. But the sight of the 16 year old child, injured and broken body on the bed hurt. The boy was still berthing but it looked painful. For Christ sake he was only 16. He shouldn't be in this state...

There was no sound coming from either boys. The only audible noise was the quiet breathing coming from both of them. It was a haunting quiet. The silence almost seemed to taut the man. After all if it weren't for him the boy wouldn't be in that bed. The boy wouldn't be hurt. If it weren't for him the boy wouldn't be lying in that bed motionless and injured. The 16 year old boy. The boy that couldn't sit still to save his life. The boy that was as quiet as a nuclear bomb. The boy that was now completely silent. The boy that despite being scared, was always loud was now quiet. Oh how wrong it felt to the man. This wasn't like the boy he knew. But then again... It was his fault that the boy was in this state. His fault.

The silence dragged on. A cruel taunting silence. The silence that was still and stuffy and damp. The pressure in the man's eyes built up the more he thought about the boy. The more he thought about how he could have prevented it. And eventually the pressure busted. Fresh tears once again falling from his eyes. He didn't try to wipe them away. He didn't have the energy to care about the tears anymore. He let the tears fall onto his dirty brown coat. The events of what happen replaying in his head. The event of how the boy got so hurt. It was his fault. He should have done a better job protecting his brother. He should have been there for him.

Wilbur remembered reading the note, no not note, the threat. He remembered sitting there for the whole night with Technoblade. He remembered coming up with a plan. A plan for what? To get him back of course. To get their younger brother back. Back from Schlatt. Back from their worst enemy.

Wilbur hated himself for sending Tommy on that mission. He should have never brought him to come along to this mission. The mission that got him caught. He shouldn't have left Tommy that close to the border. He should have at least assigned someone to have gone with him. Or better yet he should have gone with his younger brother. This was his fault. If Tommy was hurt from this it was his fault and there was nothing he could do about that now. The only thing he can do now is to make sure Tommy gets home alive. Gets back to Pogtopia alive.

Looking around the clearing that was supposed to be the meeting point, Wilbur spotted Schlatt. He didn't see Tommy, and that alone scared him. Was Tommy ok? He didn't know. Neither did he have a way to confirm whether Tommy was alive or not. Schlatt had a cruel grin on his face as he looked at Wilbur. Wilbur raised an eyebrow in a silent question.

Smiling Schlatt said in a sing-song voice "oh don't worry. He is here. Ill let you see him in a minute. First off. Did you come alone?"

Not wanting to talk to the man Wilbur merely nodded his head. Schlatt seeing the reluctance of his enemy smiled brighter. "good. Now then."