They Rely On Hope. What Do I Rely On? - Tommyinnit Adoption AU

Chapter 124

Wilbur POV:

Something was wrong with him. That had to be it. That had to be why he couldn't bring himself to leave this room. That had to be why he had walked in here half asleep in the middle of the night after waking up from yet another nightmare. Another vision of Tommy being torn away from him. Another painful fear searing into his mind. Something had to be wrong with him. What other explanation was there for him spending hours in this room in the middle of the night building furniture that might never be used?

If Tommy ever came back, he'd have a room ready for him, with the bed built and the cupboard standing, full of things. That was, if Wilbur could stop the tears for long enough to read the instructions.

Something had to be wrong with him, because he had been here since 3am and now he could hear people moving around downstairs and making breakfast. Something had to be wrong with him, because he knew that chances were, Tommy wouldn't return. It had been weeks, over a month, and the boy was still missing without a trace.

Wilbur couldn't do anything. He couldn't help in any way and so somehow he had come to the conclusion that this room would help. This room that he wanted to be perfect for Tommy, but he didn't even know where to begin. Tommy hadn't been around for long, Wilbur had no idea how he would want his room, but he wanted it to be a home for the kid. He wanted it to be a safe place. Why was this so impossibly hard?

Wilbur felt arms wrap softly around him and a head burying into his shoulder from behind. He had been so lost in his painful inability to make this room right, that he hadn't even noticed the person's arrival. It wasn't Techno, he would've said something first, same with his dad, and with Niki. Sally would've given him a kiss on the cheek when she did it, so it wasn't her. Eret might do this, but it didn't feel like the hugs Eret gave. Quackity would try to distract him, and Karl would flip through his sketchbook to show him life could still be beautiful. Ultimately the only one who would be here, like this, so quietly, was Conner.

"Hey kid," Wilbur choked out, his hand reaching up to hold Conner's.

"Hey Wil."

If it had been anyone else they might've asked about the room, or the early hour, or the Christmas lights or the failed desk that was still only partially assembled. If it had been anyone else they would've talked, but Conner was quiet. Conner was safe. He was here because he cared, and Wilbur appreciated his silent company. It let him think of things other then Tommy, without feeling like he was just distracting himself.

Conner didn't have to say a word for Wilbur to hear all the questions, and all the promises that he didn't need to answer if he didn't want to.

"Tommy likes Christmas lights..." Wilbur murmured after a long silence, explaining one of the many odd parts of this scene.

"So do I," Conner smiled, "So do I."

Wilbur knew he didn't have to hide his tears in front of Conner. He knew that Conner would simply sit here on the floor crying alongside him. Conner was quiet, he was safe, he was sweet, he would cry, but he'd do it together. Conner was known to never leave someone to cry alone. He seemed to know whenever anyone was hurting, and he would be there, crying along side them. He didn't leave until they were ok. He was always there, always a quiet reminder that you weren't alone in whatever was hurting.

"Can you help me make this desk?" Wilbur asked, his voice cracking slightly. He knew he couldn't do it alone, hell, he couldn't even read the stupid instructions. He still wanted it to be done. Wanted it to be there for Tommy when he returned. If he returned...

Conner agreed quietly, pulling the instructions out from where they had gotten lost in the chaos of pieces.

The two worked in quiet company, neither remarking when the other sniffled or wiped their eyes. Conner didn't even flinch when sobs wracked Wilbur's body as he curled up on himself, having lost his thoughts to terror and paranoia. Conner simply held his hand until he emerged from the ball he had become.

Wilbur knew Conner was struggling too, knew it in the way he didn't stop crying, in the way he rarely left Quackity's side. Conner was just a kid, Wilbur should be the one looking after him, but somehow the roles had reversed and Wilbur's old anxiety had returned, worse then ever before.

His meds weren't doing shit and his therapist was doing nothing to help. He would just sit there and nod and say it was ok, but it wasn't ok. It wasn't ok, because Tommy was just a kid and Wil should've protected him, but he hadn't and now he was gone, and what if they took another one of them? What if they took Conner or Ranboo or Purpled or Jack or Karl or Fundy or Quackity or Eret or Sally or Niki or Techno? Shit. What if they took Techno?

"Wil, breathe, you have to breath Wil," Conner urged, his hands slipping into Wilbur's. Breathe. He could do that. He could breathe. Slow it down. Calm. Calm himself. He could breath. There was still air.

"Good job Wil, can you look at me?" Conner asked, not a demand, just a question. Could he? Wilbur slowly let his eyelids relax from their clenched state, then he forced them open, meeting Conner's swollen red eyes and tear stained face.

"Yes," Wil forced out, and he knew that for now he would survive. Maybe he could be ok. Maybe he was safe. Safe with his friends. Safe here.

Words: 1000

A/N: heheh wilbur pov yay angsty :]