Chapter 1: the other night, i had a dream
Chapter Text
“Tommy, you- you gotta run.”
Tommy looked over at his brother, meeting the brunette’s fearful eyes. It had been a year since the two of them had been sent on the run, the last living members of the former L’Manburgian political regime: the president himself, and his vice president. A fox-hybrid and his Elytrian brother; the last Elytrian, in fact.
“Why?”
Tommy mostly trusted his brother’s hunches - the name he’d given to his random strikes of fearful certainty, but he, truthfully, was tired. The young boy had spent almost three hours to get to this ‘safe house’ - it was barely more than a cave, with a furnace in the center and two mats for beds. Tommy sat on one, bony wings wrapped around himself for warmth.
“They’re close, Tommy.”
Wilbur got up from his mat, sitting down by Tommy and trying to get the boy to move his wings away. Tommy reluctantly moved one wing up, pausing for a moment before wrapping it around Wilbur.
“How close?”
Wilbur hummed for a moment, scooting a bit closer to Tommy.
“Not enough for me to get away.”
Tommy tensed.
“But you can.”
The young boy looked up at his brother, confusion on his face.
“But- I’d have to leave you.”
“Tommy, I’m the more immediate threat for them. They know what I can do.”
Wilbur held out a hand, tensing the muscles and spreading his fingers out. Sparks crackled on his palm and between his fingers, before a small flame came to life. Tommy smiled despite himself, before remembering the situation at hand.
“Are you sure I have to leave you? I could- I could try and carry you as I fly.”
Wilbur shook his head.
“You almost crashed. Just- just go, and you’ll be able to get away then. I know someone you can go to- he helps people like us. He’s an old friend of mine.”
Tommy tilted his head in confusion.
“Old friend? Is he the one who gave us food back when we were homeless, after Ma left?”
Wilbur nodded.
“Here’s his coordinates.”
Wilbur unzipped his patch-covered brown coat, sticking a shaking hand in one of the pockets and pulling out a wrinkled piece of parchment. He handed it to Tommy, and the boy memorized the numbers quickly, before sticking it in the pocket of his own jeans. The ten-year-old stood up, spreading his wings and letting the aching muscles relax.
“I can make it there. But- you promise we’ll find each other again, right?”
Wilbur stood, nodding. He placed a comforting hand on Tommy’s shoulder, forcing a calming smile.
“I swear to Prime, Tommy. Now go, quick.”
Tommy took a step forward, ready to go, before pausing. He turned, and wrapped his arms around Wilbur, hugging him tightly. His claws dug into Wilbur’s dirty shirt for a few moments, before he turned on his heel and sprinted out the door of the cave.
——————————
Tommy woke with a start, rolling onto his side on the bunk bed. His wings were folded behind him as he stared at the dark wook of the wall, listening to the other kids snore.
He’d been living with this man, Philza Craft, for six years, along with the two other orphans he’d been taking care of: a human boy named Purpled, and a Fae named Aimsey. The two of them were sleeping right now, their snores audible as the rain beat down on the mountain cabin’s roof.
Tommy sat up, looking at the grandfather clock by the door. He didn’t need to squint due to his good night vision, which allowed him to see that it was around two in the morning.
Tommy sighed, laying back down and turning over on his stomach. He screwed his eyes shut, trying to force himself into sleepiness. After what felt like the longest minutes of his life, he cursed quietly and sat back up, kicking the blanket off his legs and climbing down from his bunk. He went over to the closet and changed out of his night clothes, pulling on a pair of wool socks, sweatpants and a black shirt with holes in the back for his wings.
With careful steps, he went over to the bedroom door and turned the knob, wrapping his wings around himself as he pushed the door open and left. He shut it behind him and padded down the staircase, planning to watch something on the television, when he heard voices.
“You can’t keep him here for much longer, Craft.”
The unfamiliar voice made Tommy freeze in his tracks; the accent was distinctly upper-class, around the same age as him from the lack of an adult’s deepness, and rather than a threat, it sounded distinctly like a warning.
“Why can’t I?”
This voice, Phil, was on edge. Tommy heard what sounded like fear through the strong tone his father used, and he felt shocked.
In all the years Tommy had been raised by Phil, the man never sounded truly afraid.
Legs working faster than his mind, Tommy went down the stairs, heading straight into the kitchen. His wings fluttered slightly as he went, stopping right at the lit-up entrance to the room.
The situation before him was something he never thought he’d ever see, and frankly didn’t want to:
Philza Craft, his father and protector, staring down Tobias Schlatt, the horned son of President Schlatt. Phil’s feathery wings were spread, black as night, blocking out any light from the outside. Despite the fact that Phil had at least a foot on Tobias, the short boy seemed to project his own air of confidence.
“Phil, Schlatt’s forces already know that you’re somewhere in these mountain ranges,” Tobias said. “They could find your position in a day with that goddamn Punz Bedwars on their side, and I doubt that they care enough about your ‘Angel of Death’ reputation to not shoot you where you stand-“
Tommy watched as Tobias cut himself off, noticing Phil’s lack of protest. The goat hybrid looked towards him, and forced an uncomfortable yet polite smile.
“Ah, Tommy. I was looking to talk to you-“
“Tommy, go back to bed-“
Tommy cut them both off by clearing his throat.
“What were you two talking about?”
Tobias swallowed awkwardly, and Phil sighed.
“How long have you been standing there?” the winged man asked.
Tommy chuckled nervously.
“Well, uh, actually, I’ve only been listening long enough to hear Tobias over there talk about you getting shot, and Schlatt’s forces knowing we’re in this mountain range. I was on the stairs, though, when I heard what I’m pretty sure was the start of this conversation, when Tobias said that you couldn’t keep me here for long. So, yeah. Mind telling me what that’s about?”
Phil, remarkably, didn’t say anything. He only motioned for Tommy to take a seat at the kitchen table. He looked over at Tobias.
“If you wish, you can sit, too.”
Tobias nodded, sitting down reluctantly. As if afraid of Tommy and his wings, he sat a few chairs away, sneaking glances at the black and golden-scaled appendages.
Phil sat across from the two boys, one hand idly smoothing his feathers. He took a deep breath.
“Tommy,” he began. Something about his tone made Tommy even more uneasy than he already felt, wings flaring up a bit. It was the tone Phil used for bad news, he recognized after a moment.
“Like Tobias said, Schlatt’s forces know about our location. Not our precise one, of course, here on this mountain, but still. Toby- can I call you Toby?”
He’d turned to the brunette then, continuing after the boy’s stiff nod.
“Toby wants to take you to a different group, the Pogtopians, to help hide you. You’ve heard of them, right?”
Tommy nodded. How could he not have heard of the Pogtopians? They were the one out-and-proud resistance against Schlatt and his regime, lead by one of the few people Tommy remembered from back when Wilbur was president: Niki Nihachu, Wilbur’s best friend, always wearing his old L’Manburg coat in the videos shown on the television of rebel activity.
“The Pogtopians believe that Schlatt has a specific reason for wanting to find you, other than just a grudge with the old president. They don’t know what that reason is right now, but they think that if they get ahold of you, they’d be able to have a trump card on their side over Schlatt. According to Toby, they think that Schlatt’s reason for needing you is because you’re the last Elytrian.”
Tommy sat quietly, absorbing the information. The Pogtopians, they wanted him to help dismantle Schlatt’s whole evil plan, whatever that might be. If he worked with them, then they would finally be able to return Manburg to something normal again, instead of what Schlatt and his cabinet had turned it into.
There could even be a way for him to see Wilbur again.
“Now, you don’t need to g-“
Tommy cut Phil off, a wide grin on his face.
“I wanna join the Pogtopians.”
Toby - he supposed he might as well start calling the boy that by now - looked pleasantly surprised, while Phil was clearly trying to keep himself looking neutral and quiet. After a few moments of awkward silence, Toby cleared his throat.
“You should, uh, get packing, then.”
He looked at Phil.
“Do you care if we tell the other kids you have here that Tommy’s leaving?”
“I’ll break the news to them tomorrow, but if Tommy wants to say goodbye to them, then that’s okay.”
Tommy nodded, standing up. He left the kitchen, heading back up the stairs and into the bedroom he shared with the others. As quietly as he could, he gathered his things, putting them into the backpack Phil had gotten him a few years previous. It was a bit funny to Tommy that, even now, at what was probably the best period of his recent life, he could still fit most of his belongings into a single backpack. After getting his things, he went back to the closet, pulling a compression shirt (a type of shirt Phil had gotten him as a comfortable way to hide his wings) out and changing into it.
When he was done, he grabbed his bag and gave the others in the room one last look.
“See you guys soon,” Tommy said quietly. He headed back downstairs into the kitchen. Phil was gone already, while Toby was drinking the dregs of a glass of water. Tommy gave the hybrid a look, and he set the glass down.
“Where’d Phil go?” he asked. Toby shrugged.
“Dunno exactly. He said that he had to go outside for a while.”
Tommy thought for a moment. Phil did randomly just leave sometimes, usually for around half a day, always to a spot further up the mountain. It happened once a month, usually in the morning or mid-day, so doing it in the middle of a rainy night was weird. Not weird enough for Tommy to focus on, though.
“We should probably go. Phil does just leave for a bit sometimes, and when he comes back, he prefers to be alone.”
Tommy went for the door, Toby following after the boy put his sandals on and left. The two teens left the cabin and went into the pouring rain, both covering their heads; Tommy with his bag, and Tubbo with the edge of his raincoat.
“Where’s your car?” Tommy asked, squinting into the darkness. He didn’t see any cars, or transport in general, that Toby could have ridden up the mountain.
Toby let out a little chuckle.
“No normal car could make its way up this mountain, Tommy,” he said. “I rode a hoverboard up, since they’re a lot faster.”
Tommy gave him a confused look.
“A hoverboard?” he asked. “Wasn’t that, like, a fancy toy from a few decades ago?”
Toby’s face mirrored his confused look for a few moments, before it changed to one of realization and he shook his head.
“Hoverboards are kinda the main small-level transport for people, off the mountain. I forgot for a sec that you’ve probably never seen one, since they started getting made, like, a year after my dad took power.”
Tommy’s confusion changed to intrigue at that.
“I wanna ride a hoverboard,” he said quickly. “Did you bring a second one up here?”
Toby shook his head again. “It’d be too suspicious. My board can handle two people, though, so it’ll be fine.”
Toby lowered his raincoat, pulling up one of the sleeves to reveal a metal bracelet around his wrist. He pressed a button on it and a frequency began to play, a sound that made a creeping nervousness sink into Tommy’s bones.
When a minute had passed, a silver object seemed to come out of nowhere, shooting through the trees and coming to a stop right at Tommy and Tubbo’s feet.
The object turned out to actually be shaped like a board; it was around four and a half feet long and two feet wide, with two wide straps going across it horizontally. On the front, back and sides, blue sensor lights glowed, and a strange-looking spot on front-center area seemed to let out a vague thrum.
Tommy stepped on nervously, Toby following after. The blond watched as the other boy slipped his feet under the straps, clumsily copying him.
“You should probably, uh, grab onto me,” Toby said. Tommy paused.
“Do I have to?”
“I mean, even with the straps on your feet- you have them on, right?”
Tommy hummed a yes.
“Even with the straps on, the first time someone hoverboards usually ends up with them falling off, or getting really dizzy, even if they do it with someone else. Believe me, I can tell you from experience.”
Tommy begrudgingly wrapped his arms around Toby after that, feeling like a clumsy fool on this strange hoverboard.
That feeling dissipated entirely when Toby excitedly called out, “Down the mountain, straight to Foxhole!”
Tommy barely had time to register the fact that Foxhole was the name of the village at the bottom of the mountain before the board zoomed off, and he let out a totally manly yell of surprise.
———————-
Phil entered the temple, steps clicking on the cobblestone ground. He held up a flashlight, clicking it on to assess the condition of the holy ground.
Luckily, it was perfectly fine. The child-sized statue of the Goddess of Death, her blackstone stare looking coldy yet not unkindly at Phil, stood untouched. The bowl for offerings was empty of his last gift, the ripest fruits from the last time he’d gone down to the village. He set the flashlight down, light catching on the amethyst stone set into the statue’s chest, like a broach. Phil went over to the statue, stopping a bit away and kneeling down, the cobblestones digging into his knees as he clasped his hands.
Tilting his head downward, he called to his love in his head, stopping only when the amethyst began to glow softly.
What do you need, Phil?
All of Phil’s muscles seemed to relax at the voice of Kristen. The Goddess of Death, his first love.
“It’s… It’s about Tommy. Are you able to see his fate?”
Kristen was silent for a few moments, before speaking in Phil’s head.
I cannot. I know that the introduction of Tobias has certainly changed it, though. For better or worse, we can only wait to see.
Phil inhaled sharply.
“What about Wilbur? Are you able to see what will happen to him, dear?”
Kristen was silent again, for longer this time.
I know our son’s fate is going to change for the better.
“Are you able to protect them?”
Phil felt a shiver up his spine. He knew Kristen was considering him now, wondering what to say, how much to tell him.
I will try.
Chapter 2: it was a world full of kings and queens
Notes:
after more than a month, i finally chose to update this damn thing lol. got the motivation and wrote like half of this in one day, i hope ya’ll like it.
Chapter Text
“Tommy, you- you gotta run.”
Tommy’s blue eyes met Wilbur’s fearful brown, and the eighteen-year-old fought the urge to sob. His brother looked so small on that damn mat, wings wrapped around himself for warmth. He never should have dragged him into this.
“Why?” Tommy asked. Wilbur could hear the tiredness, the dead-on-your-feet feeling in his brother’s voice.
“They’re close, Tommy,” he managed. The older brunette stood from his own mat, stretching his aching joints. His fox ears twitched as he caught sounds carried on the wind, sounds only he could hear; the sound of men drawing near. Schlatt’s men.
Wilbur went over to Tommy, sitting down by him. He paused for a moment, wondering whether to put an arm around Tommy, before the boy put a wing around him on his own.
“How close?” Tommy asked quietly, and god did he seem even younger than he really was.
No child should ever have to go through this, Wilbur thought to himself. He scooted a bit closer to Tommy, focusing on the sounds he could hear if he just concentrated more. Wilbur let out a little hum as he did.
“Not close enough for me to get away,” he started. He felt Tommy tense beside him.
“But you can.”
The boy looked up at him, confusion on his face.
“But- I’d have to leave you, Wilbur.”
“Tommy,” Wilbur started with an inhale. This was his brother’s chance to get away, and even though it hurt like hell, he wouldn’t let Tommy get caught over him.
“I’m the more immediate threat,” Wilbur continued. “They know what I can do.”
He stuck out a hand, palm up, and let it flare. Wilbur wasn’t stupid, despite what his brain liked to tell him; any real flares or explosions would make him and Tommy dead meat. So, he just let a fireball rest in his hand, and the smile the little boy gave Wilbur was worth it.
It disappeared after a few seconds, though. Tommy looked to be thinking before he spoke, which was admittedly rare.
“Are you sure I have to leave you? I could- I could try and carry you as I fly.”
Wilbur shook his head. Tommy trying to bring him along like that would be almost a recipe for disaster.
“You almost crashed. Just- just go, and you’ll be able to get away then. I know someone you can go to- he helps people like us. He’s an old friend of mine.”
Tommy tilted his head in confusion.
“Old friend? Is he the one who gave us food back when we were homeless, after Ma left?”
Wilbur nodded.
“Here’s his coordinates.”
He unzipped his patch-covered coat, trying to stop his hands from shaking as he dug through his pockets. When he found the paper with the coordinates, he handed it to Tommy, watching as the boy memorized the numbers before sticking it in the pocket of his own jeans. Tommy looked at him, a sudden, small hope in his eyes. He stood up, spreading his wings.
“I can make it there. But- you promise we’ll find each other again, right?”
Wilbur couldn’t do this. He had to stay calm, though, for Tommy. He stood, too, putting a hand on the younger’s shoulder and forcing his best comforting smile.
“I swear to Prime, Tommy. Now go, quick.”
Tommy nodded, turning on his heel and beginning to walk away. However, he paused. Wilbur was about to urge him onward, before Tommy turned back to him and hugged him tightly.
Wilbur hesitantly wrapped his arms around the boy, letting go after a few moments and watching as he ran off.
Now, it was time to wait.
Wilbur woke with a groan, sitting up in his bed. He leaned back, the concrete wall of his cell able to be felt through his thin white shirt. He looked over at the clock and sighed, getting up. It was almost time for the morning check, and that was always a shitty start to a shitty day. Wilbur went over to the sink across from his bed and washed his face, scrubbing hard to wake himself up.
Am I gonna get to see Fundy today?
Fundy was the fox boy he’d basically adopted; the kid had been found as a six-year-old while Wilbur was being brought to the White House, and since Wilbur was the only fox hybrid there, the duty of watching Fundy had been given to him. While it was a bit hard at first, Wilbur had gotten used to it, though it did hurt watching the boy being raised by the government.
Wilbur finished scrubbing his face and wiped his hands off on his shirt, going over to the cell door. He listened as the guard’s footsteps began to echo, answering with a ‘here’ when the guard knocked on his door. However, instead of the guard leaving, there was a click, and the door opened.
“Soot, someone’s asked to talk to you. Come on.”
Wilbur sighed.
Probably another session with Schlatt, he thought to himself. He turned, letting the guard cuff his hands. Wilbur cringed as the man placed two gloves over his hands, strapping them down tight- they were fireproof, to counteract his pyrokinesis. Then, he was marched out of his cell, down the hall to a locked door.
“Am I finally going to get shot?” Wilbur asked dryly. The guard chuckled in that same dry tone, pulling the key ring off his belt and searching for the right one.
“Nah, much worse. Or better, depending on what you think about talking with one of Schlatt’s vices.”
Wilbur cringed. Schlatt went through vice presidents like a junkie went through his stash. Often, he made them believe he was in love with them, or something to that effect, making fools out of whatever poor, naive, attractive young man or woman caught his eye.
The guard unlocked the door and shoved Wilbur through, ignoring the man’s small grunt as he put a foot forward on the first step of an unexpected set of stairs. It took only a few mind-numbing minutes for them to go up and unlock the next door, when a fresh breeze of autumn air punched Wilbur square in the face like a sack of bricks. He went forward without prompting, eyes unable to focus on one spot as he looked around. The slightly-overgrown grass, wilting flowers and bare trees made Wilbur realize something.
“This was- this was the fucking-”
“Presidential Garden?” the guard finished. “It’s been repurposed, Soot. C’mon, it’s not that much longer now.”
The guard walked him a few yards forward, before pointing over at one of the many empty benches. This one, though, wasn’t empty; a tan, black-haired young man sat there, wearing a suit without a tie (If you’re gonna wear a suit, at least wear the tie with it, Wilbur thought) and texting somebody on his phone.
“If you try anything, Soot, you know what happens,” the guard said as a cursory warning, before walking off.
Wilbur looked around at the former Presidential Garden for a few more moments, before sitting down at the bench with the black-haired man.
He waited in awkward silence for the man to look up from his phone, observing him. His brows were knit in conversation, chocolate-brown eyes scanning his screen like it was a note from the President himself.
He looks kinda hot, Wilbur thought, before shoving that thought aside. While he couldn’t deny that the man was attractive (it was like it was a law for Schlatt’s vices), he wasn’t about to let himself fall for a man that likely wanted him and his brother dead.
But, if anyone saw him staring for just a few moments at the vice president, Wilbur wouldn’t be able to deny it. He watched as the man sighed, firing off one more text before pocketing the phone and looking back at Wilbur.
“Sorry about that, one of the trade officials was pissed because I forgot to bring some agreements to the President,” he said. Wilbur, meanwhile, took a moment to respond, purely because of the fact that he honestly hadn’t been genuinely apologized to since… well, since he was eighteen, and still the president.
“It’s- it’s fine,” Wilbur said quietly. “What’d you, uh, want me to talk to you for? Is it about Fundy?”
The man shook his head. “Nah, it’s not about the kid. He’s fine, if you’re wondering,” he added, seeing the worry still on Wilbur’s face. “I just needed someone to talk to.”
“What?” Wilbur blurted. “You- you brought me out here for the first time since I was eighteen because you needed someone to talk to?”
He was unable to keep the anger out of his voice. The man seemed to realize what he said then, and put his hands up in a sort of surrender motion.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. Shitty phrasing. I meant, like- you never really know who’s, well…”
The man paused, looking around the former garden for… something. Wilbur found himself looking, too, just on instinct. Seeing that nobody was near enough to hear them, the man sighed in relief.
“You never know who might want a promotion enough to snitch to Schlatt,” he said, finishing his earlier sentence.
“Yeah, I can understand being cautious ‘cause of that,” Wilbur said with a small laugh. “But, what’s so important that nobody else can hear but you and me?”
The man paused at that, sucking a bit of air through his teeth.
“Well, we found some information on where your brother might be.”
Oh.
Oh Prime.
Wilbur almost immediately felt himself tense up, looking at the man with his fear likely clear on his face.
“Did- did anyone catch him? Where is he? Is he with anyone else? What the hell happened to him?”
The man put a hand on his shoulder, trying to calm him, and Wilbur slapped it away.
“Tell me where the hell my brother is,” he said through gritted teeth. The man nodded, continuing on.
“We don’t know for sure where he is as of now, but last night, Schlatt’s son used a chipped hoverboard to go to the Red Mountain, where we know the Angel of Death lives, just outside Manburg’s borders. The chip heard some stuff he was saying by recording it, and, well, even though it was muffled, people are pretty sure he eventually picked up your brother, too.”
Wilbur absorbed the information, already reeling from the fact that Schlatt’s son wasn’t loyal to the goat-hybrid president.
“The apple must’ve fallen far from the tree with that kid,” Wilbur remarked, and the man nodded, smiling a little.
“Exactly. I’ve met Toby a couple times - that’s his name, by the way - and he’s honestly the exact opposite of his dad. I never met his mom, but I know a few people that did, and they say that he’s just like her.”
The man paused for a moment, realizing something.
“We’re getting off-topic, though. Niki told me-”
“Hold the hell up,” Wilbur said, cutting him off. The surprise and hope was palpable in his voice as he asked, “Niki? Like, Niki as in Niki Nihachu?”
The man nodded. “She runs the whole Pogtopia resistance, pretty much. She told me to tell you that she’s having you broken out tonight, and that you don’t get a choice in the matter.”
Wilbur chuckled, unable to stop the little smile on his face. “Sounds just like she did back when we were younger. Wait a second- what about Fundy?”
As he asked the question about Fundy, his whole demeanor changed, worried attitude fully back.
“We’re gonna get Fundy out, too,” the man said. “For you, though, wait for an Enderman named Ranboo to come to your cell tonight. You know how Endermen are around technology, they’re practically walking electro-shock pulses, so you won’t need to worry about being caught on the cameras. As soon as you’re out of the prison, Ranboo’ll teleport you straight to the nearest meeting point, and you’ll go back to base from there.”
Wilbur nodded in acknowledgement, feeling his heartbeat speed up a bit as he thought about finally escaping.
“Anything I should do to prepare?” he asked.
“Make sure not to scream when Ranboo teleports you,” the man said. Wilbur nodded again, wondering whether the man was joking or not, and stood up.
“I should probably leave now, huh?” he said. A small part of him honestly didn’t want to leave; it was nice talking to someone his age who actually seemed to like him a bit.
The man stood up, too, running a thin-fingered hand through his hair. Wilbur pretended not to notice how it fluffed up a bit.
“Probably,” he responded. “But, before you go, can I, uhm, tell you something?”
Wilbur tilted his head in slight confusion, noticing how the man suddenly seemed to get a bit more nervous.
“Sure?” he said, a bit questioningly.
“Well, we’re probably going to be seeing each other quite a bit soon, so you might as well know my name,” the man said. “It’s- it’s Alex. Alex Quackity.”
Chapter 3: UPDATE
Chapter Text
I’m going to rewrite this fic, with a new title: Bones in the Ocean. I’m leaving this version up, and I will provide a link to the new version when I get the first chapter up.
Tk (Guest) on Chapter 1 Sat 20 Aug 2022 02:39AM UTC
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bispectral on Chapter 1 Mon 22 Aug 2022 02:12AM UTC
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