Bang and Burn Oneshots: Tales from the Agents of Forte

12 Days of Christmas: Little Babyman

"Remind me again why I was dragged out here?" Wilbur asked Tommy as he led him into a crowd of people. "I seriously don't understand why I'm here. You're of legal age."

Tommy turned around and gave him a weird look. "The hell are you on about?"

"You're sixteen."

"That's not 'legal age' here, Wilbur."

"You're still old enough to handle yourself."

"Zak and Darryl didn't want us going here alone. Apparently, there are some issues going on that involve young agents."

Wilbur stopped walking and grabbed Tommy's arm. "I'm sorry, but did you just say, 'us'?" He then looked up and spotted Tubbo standing by the entrance of the festival, wearing one of the most hideous Christmas sweaters that Wilbur had ever seen. It was vibrant green and had some sort of brown animal on it. Had it not been for a dot of red at the very tip of its face, Wilbur would've had no idea it was supposed to be Rudolph.

Toby looked up from his phone and waved at the two when he saw them approaching. He jogged to them to close the gap between them, barely able to contain his excitement. "Are you guys ready to watch the lighting of the tree?!"

A smile grew across Tommy's face. "Why wouldn't I be?"

Wilbur groaned and rubbed his face. "I'm spending my evening with the two biggest children I know."

Toby grabbed Wilbur's arm and pulled him towards the festival's entrance. "Come on! I saw something that I really want to do!" Wilbur rolled his eyes but didn't put up a fight. He promised he'd keep an eye on the two crackheads, so, whether he liked it or not, he was stuck with them.

Toby pulled Wilbur over to a tent, Tommy just behind them. Inside the tent was a table, complete with frosting, sprinkles, and other decorative baking items. "Are we just decorating cookies?"

"Nonono, this is better!" Toby looked at the woman behind the table. "Three please!"

Wilbur then watched in horror as he was handed a birth certificate and a small, cardboard carriage, carrying a baby gingerbread man. "You've got to be fucking kidding me."

Toby delicately pulled his baby gingerbread man out of its carriage and placed it on a paper plate. He began grabbing frosting and sprinkles to pour onto it. Tommy followed his lead. He wasn't nearly as excited, but it gave them something to do while they waited for the lighting of the tree. Unlike the boys, Wilbur was having none of it. He just looked at the cookie, sad that he let his life come to this.

When Tommy noticed Wilbur refusing to decorate the cookie, he elbowed him. "Come on, look at how happy Tubbo is. Do this one thing and he won't bother us about any of the other stands here for the rest of the night. This will keep him content and you won't have to do anything else." He pushed a tube of yellow frosting over to him. "Make him look like you or something. I don't know. Just suck it up this once."

Wilbur reluctantly grabbed the yellow frosting and spread it across the cookie, forming the same yellow sweater he loved to wear. Then, he grabbed some brown frosting in a thin tube and began making circles on its head to replicate his curly hair. As time went on, he found himself enjoying it more and more, adding little details here and there until he was sure the cookie looked just like him.

Beside him, Tommy was making his cookie also have brown hair. That, combined with the dark green shirt, was enough for Wilbur to figure out that he was making Toby. Toby, on the far side of the table, had a gingerbread man with blond hair and a red and white shirt. Wilbur smiled as he looked back down at his own cookie, finding their friendship adorably innocent.

Wilbur put the finishing touches on his cookie, then smiled once again, full of pride. He signed the birth certificate that came with it and named his new "child", "Wimblur." The woman behind the table appeared to be holding in a laugh, but Wilbur didn't care. He was now a father, prepared to protect his cookie with his life.

When the teens finished, they signed their own certificates, then exchanged cookies. Tommy looked at his and laughed. "My shirt looks extra glittery this year!"

"What do you mean, 'this year'?" Wilbur asked.

"Coming to this cookie stand is a tradition that we do every year!" Toby explained. "Three years ago, we both begged our mums to let us make a cookie. We both ended up making each other and we thought it was funny. We've come to this same stand ever since!"

Wilbur looked at his cookie in the small carriage. "Mind if I join you guys next year, too? This was fun."

"Yeah, sure!" Tommy responded, trying to contain his excitement.

Wilbur picked the cookie up. "Just look at little Wimblur! He's a little baby! A little babyman! Such a baby!"

"You should take a bite!" Toby suggested. "I swear, they put crack in these cookies or something."

Wilbur loudly gasped as he watched Toby take a bite out of the cookie, taking its head clean off. "HOW COULD YOU DO THAT TO YOUR CHILD?!"

"I know, right?!" Tommy asked. "You have to eat the limbs first! Make it suffer before devouring it."

Toby shook his head. "I eat the head first. It puts it out of its misery so I can enjoy the rest of it without feeling guilty."

"You two are monsters. MONSTERS!" He held his cookie close to his chest. "Don't worry, little Wimblur. I won't let these fiends harm you."

"Wil, you have to eat it eventually," Tommy stated.

Wilbur shook his head. "I don't eat children." He started to walk towards the tree but stopped. "On second thought, I may eat you if you lay a finger on my child."

With a laugh, Tommy and Toby followed Wilbur to the tree, where a few of the event's coordinators were giving some sort of presentation about the community and what the tree meant for them. Though they'd never admit it, the two didn't care about the symbol of the tree or anything. They were there for the lights and their own traditions they had made.

Wilbur stood behind the two boys as the countdown to light the tree began. He held his baby gingerbread man in the air just as the tree in front of them lit up with beautiful shades of red and gold. Tommy looked over his shoulder and laughed at Wilbur, but he didn't care.

He just wanted his son to see the lights.

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Word Count: 1117 

Published: December 15th