Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Wilbur swallowed as he looked up at the palace, suitcase clutched tightly in one hand. 

Prime. I never thought I’d leave. I thought… I thought I’d stay here forever. I never thought I’d be walking through these gates again.

He took a deep breath and lowered his gaze back to the ground. To the people standing by the gate, waiting to say goodbye. 

He smiled. Or at least… I didn’t expect to leave like this.

Phil held out his hand and Wilbur took it, allowing the king to shake it firmly. “Good luck Wilbur.” 

“Thank you,” Wilbur blushed. “I - for everything.” Thank you for giving me this job a year ago. Thank you for believing in me now - thank you for insisting I take this chance, even when I tried to make you let me stay. 

Thank you for saying you want me to come back after it’s over. 

Phil met his eyes. “I should be the one thanking you.”

Wilbur blushed harder as Phil squeezed his hand tightly before releasing it and stepping back, allowing Techno to move forwards and pat him reassuringly, his hand easily able to swallow Wilbur’s shoulder. 

“I’ll… miss you,” Techno said, voice thick. If Wilbur hadn’t known better he’d have thought the guard was mad at him, choked with anger. 

But Wilbur knew he was going to miss Techno’s sarcasm, his quiet strength, the late-night chats and shared jokes.

He hoped it wouldn’t be arrogant to think the guard might miss him too. 

“It’ll only be a few months,” he chuckled softly. “You won’t even notice I’m gone.”

“I’ll notice,” Techno said gruffly. He sighed and rolled his eyes. “Those academics better appreciate what they’ve got.”

Wilbur shrugged. “Guess we’ll find out.”

They were cut off by the sound of clattering hooves as a carriage rode up to the gate. Wilbur released his hold on his case as a footman took it from him. Techno swallowed hard and let go, allowing Wilbur to turn his attention to his two pupils. “You both be good, alright?”

Tubbo nodded while Tommy laughed. “I’m always good.”

“Most of the time,” Wilbur agreed, snorting. “Still. Try not to forget everything I taught you.”

He’d decided against finding a temporary replacement to tutor Tommy in his absence. Not after the way, Tommy had reacted to the simple kindness he’d offered upon his arrival - the confusion on his face when he asked for the boy’s favourite subjects, the smallness in his voice when he said ‘sorry, I know, I don’t want to disappoint you’. It still haunted him. He didn’t want Tommy near anyone that would make him feel that way again. 

“I won’t,” Tommy promised. “You’ll write, right?”

“Of course,” Wilbur swore. “I’ll write as often as I can.”

“And - and you’ll be back before midwinter?” Tubbo whispered, eyes wide. 

Wilbur’s gaze softened. “Yes. I promise.”

Tubbo nodded, apparently reassured. “O-okay.”

Tommy smiled. “Good luck Sooty.”

Wilbur folded his arms. “Never mind, I’m never coming back.”

The group around him laughed and the strange tension in the air dissipated. Wilbur shook his head in mock-disappointment as he turned around to step into the carriage. 

Only to be stopped by two arms wrapping around his torso. 

Wilbur twisted around so he could return the hug, lowering his head until it brushed his assailant’s golden curls. 

“I - I was only joking Toms,” he said quietly, so only the boy in his arms could hear him. “I’m coming back.”

“I - I know,” Tommy whispered. “I - I just…” he swallowed and his voice became so quiet Wilbur had to strain to hear it. “Just… promise you won’t forget me?”

Oh.

That hurt, tugging painfully at Wilbur’s heartstrings as he remembered the last time the prince had asked that question. Another time his teacher had been about to leave the palace - although that time they’d both thought that was it. He’d never return. 

In another lifetime it would have been the last time he’d ever see Tommy - the last time he had a chance to tell the boy he mattered. He would have left him alone, in a palace with no one there who cared. 

And he knew that wasn’t the case anymore. He knew Tommy knew that wasn’t the case. He knew the prince was surrounded by people that loved him - the servant he saw as a best friend, the guard that treated him like a little brother, and a father that was determined to ensure his son never felt alone again.

And yet Wilbur couldn’t help worrying. And up until now he’d presumed the thought hadn’t even crossed his pupil’s mind - after all, Tommy had encouraged him to take this placement at Karl’s Library, had insisted that he’d be fine.

Wilbur had no doubt that he would be. He just… needed this reassurance. 

And Wilbur was more than willing to give it to him.

“I promise Toms. How could I ever forget you?”

Tommy hugged him tighter, burying his head further into Wilbur’s robes for a moment before taking a deep breath and letting go, falling back to stand next to his father. The king instantly placed a comforting arm around his son’s shoulders, pulling him closer so he could lean against his side.

Wilbur smiled at the sight. He’ll be just fine. 

They’ll all be fine. 

He climbed into the carriage, shutting the door behind him and leaning out the window as it began to move away. Tommy detached himself from his father and grabbed Tubbo’s hand, chasing the carriage down the road and waving madly. Techno blinked before sprinting after the prince he was supposed to be protecting and Wilbur laughed, waving back as the carriage picked up speed. 

He kept waving until he couldn’t see them anymore. Then he ducked inside, settling back into his seat for the long journey ahead. 

He would miss them. Prime he would miss them. 

But Phil had set this in motion, had given Karl the right to award him a professorship. Techno had stayed up with him for countless nights talking over the pros and cons. Tommy and Tubbo had pestered him for days, insisting he go and ‘show them how it’s supposed to be done.’

Wilbur snorted. A village teacher running a class on education? At Karl’s Library?

No more ridiculous than a village teacher tutoring the prince I suppose. 

He took a deep breath. Teaching. You know teaching. 

You’re going to be fine. 

He looked out the window and smiled. 

I can’t wait to tell Tommy all about it. 

–o0o–

Dear Tommy, 

Thank you for your letter - it was lovely to hear from you, especially so soon. I had no idea the palace mail service was so prompt!

In answer to your question, yes I think I’m settling in now - still getting lost on occasion, but I can at least make it from my quarters to my office and the lecture halls! The signage system here is very confusing… still, I’m sure I’ll get the hang of it soon. Just need to make sure I don’t wander into the hedge maze accidentally…

My colleagues are all incredibly helpful and friendly too - just the other day one of them, Dr Connor, helped me find my find my way to the library. (And, as an aside, let me just say, the library here is incredible - it’s even bigger than the one at the palace! And it has its own librarians!). They all seem willing to give my teaching style a chance, which is encouraging!

It also means I should start developing my syllabus more thoroughly, so I suppose I should end this letter here and get working. I miss you Tommy, and I look forward to your next letter.

Your favourite teacher, 
Wilbur Soot 

–o0o–

“Ah, Technoblade, just who I’ve been looking for.”

Techno blinked and turned around to find the source of the voice. A lord he only vaguely recognised - dark hair, neatly pressed clothing - was stood in the hallway, an armful of papers held by the servant trailing behind him. 

“Sir,” he greeted formally, dipping into a slight bow. “How can I help you?”

Something strange flickered in the other man’s eyes for a moment - it looked oddly like satisfaction. “Walk with me.” 

Techno nodded and fell into place next to the man, thanking Prime that Tommy was with his father right now and didn’t need his protection. 

“I wanted to speak to King Philza about introducing some new security measures to the palace. I figured you were just the person to assist me,” the lord explained.

“Oh?” Techno said, confusion leaking into his tone. “Uh - politics aren’t really my thing, sir.”

The man laughed lightly. “Oh, you needn’t worry about that. There’s not really any politics involved, just thinking about the best additions that could be made, where costs could be cut, where money should be directed - that sort of thing.”

Techno furrowed his brow. “But… pardon me, but I’m not a financial administrator either. Nor am I the captain of the guard. I don’t have any expertise in this.”

“Ah, but you are Prince Thomas’s personal guard, are you not? I would think that made you more than qualified to speak on the best protection for him.”

“I am the best protection for him,” Techno said flatly, trying not to let any edge seep into his voice - there was no need for it, and the last thing he needed was for a powerful lord to take against him because Techno couldn’t rein in his pride. 

Now’s not the time to take a stand. Pick your battles carefully. That’s how you survive. 

The man paused for a moment, silence hanging heavy in the air. Techno gulped uncomfortably. 

“I’m glad you think so,” the lord said eventually. “I just… I don’t want to see him hurt. You understand.”

“Of course sir,” Techno nodded quickly. “That’s the last thing I want too.”

“Good. It’s just… with the attack by his previous servant last winter…” the lord shrugged and laughed lightly. “You’ll forgive me for being a little worried for his safety.”

Techno took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. He didn’t… enjoy the memory of that night, the fight with Dream in Tommy’s bedroom as the prince himself lay asleep, drugged beyond waking. 

He didn’t enjoy the small voice in his head that whispered that he should have done better. Stopped it before it got that far. Been more aware - more alert, better - should have done more - 

“Of - of course."

“And… well, forgive me, but I know you’ve… seen a lot in your life,” the lord said carefully. 

Techno blanched. He - he - how does he - he can’t mean - 

“I wouldn’t blame you if your judgement were to… slip. In the heat of the moment.”

Oh Prime.

Techno’s chest was tight. How - is it that obvious? 

I thought I’d hidden it well. I thought… I thought no one knew - or at least no one I didn’t want to know. 

Prime, I thought I was over it. It’s over - those two years - they weren’t for nothing… right? It’s supposed to stop affecting me now!

I-I thought it had stopped affecting me now…

“So you’ll help me?” the lord continued. “I only want to do what’s best for him.”

Techno swallowed, pushing aside the strange tightness in his chest. He - he didn’t want Tommy to be hurt, that was the last thing he would ever want - and not just in his capacity as the prince’s guard. He liked the boy, would be proud to kneel before him as king one day - no matter how far in the future that felt. He enjoyed teaching him to ride, to fight… he loved Tommy more than he loved his own life. 

So… so he had to do his best for him - make sure he was protected. It was more than just his duty.  

“I - yes sir,” Techno managed. “Th-thank you for asking me,” he said awkwardly. Prime knows you didn’t have to.

“Thank you,” the lord smiled, holding out his hand. Techno took it dazedly, allowing the other man to shake it firmly. 

“You can call me Quackity, by the way,” the man smiled. “I have a feeling we’re going to see much more of one another.”

–o0o–

Dear Tommy, 

I can’t believe it’s been a month since I started working here. It feels like it’s been much longer, and yet no time at all - I’m always busy, yet I still seem to find time to miss everyone back at the palace. 

I think I’ve finally settled in here though, and every time I give a lecture more people seem to turn up - I think I even saw a few of the senior professors at the back of the room yesterday, so I suppose I must be doing something right! Karl still pops into my office pretty regularly, I’ve started keeping a tin of biscuits in my desk drawer, which has proven to be pretty popular amongst the students too. Maybe I’ll keep it up when I come back… I’m not making any promises though!

Phil wrote to me the other day to let me know how you were getting on, I’m glad to hear you’ve been keeping on top of your studies, but please remember to take some time off! I’m sure Techno would be glad to take you on more rides, or even practise swordplay with you, if you asked. Having said that, if you would take the time to help Tubbo with his reading it would make me very proud. 

Mid-term examinations are coming up in just under a month and all of the students here are working hard, so unfortunately I have plenty of marking to get done. I’ll sign off here and write to you again soon - there’s so much to do! 

Your favourite teacher, 
Wilbur Soot 

–o0o–

Tommy twisted onto his stomach as Tubbo entered the room, a basket of laundry in his arms. “Hi Tubs.”

“You sound glum,” Tubbo commented, placing the basket down on a chest of drawers. “Something wrong?”

Tommy shrugged. 

Tubbo raised a concerned eyebrow. “Want to talk about it?”

“It - it’s not a big deal.”

Tubbo tilted his head. “Want to talk about it anyway?” 

Prime, Tommy would never stop being thankful for Tubbo. “I - I guess.” He pushed himself up to a sitting position on the bed as Tubbo began putting the laundry away. “I just… I haven’t gotten a response from Wilbur yet.”

Tubbo nodded, understanding. Tommy knew his servant missed their shared teacher just as much as he did - maybe even a little more, since his friend had, until recently, had very few adults he could count on. He knew Wilbur had sent him a few letters of his own and Tubbo treasured them, even though he sometimes struggled to read them without assistance. 

“I see. How long has it been?”

“A week,” Tommy sighed. “I - I know he’s busy, he said so in his last letter, but… he usually replies faster than this, that’s all.”

“That sounds like something he’d do,” Tubbo agreed, shaking out a shirt and re-folding it. “It might have gotten lost in the post.”

“I - I guess,” Tommy conceded. “Still… I just… I miss him, y’know?”

“I know,” Tubbo said quietly. “M-me too.”

“I mean, don’t get me wrong, I wanted him to go and I’m glad he’s settled in! I just…”

I really miss him. His letters aren’t the same, but I can hear his voice in them and it makes it hurt a little less. 

“I get it,” Tubbo nodded. “He - Prime’s sake, who folded these?! - he probably just got caught up with… professor things.”

“I - I hope so,” Tommy smiled. “I hope he’s… enjoying himself.”

“I’m sure he is,” Tubbo said, glancing at the clock on the wall. “You’ve got about two hours before dinner, by the way.”

“Thanks,” Tommy nodded. 

“What are you planning to do during those two hours?”

“Lie here. Stare at the ceiling,” Tommy said, falling back onto the bed with a soft thump. 

Tubbo laughed and shook his head. “I’ll be back in two hours then.”

“See you then,” Tommy said, giving his servant a one-handed salute from where he lay on the bed. Tubbo snorted and slipped out of the room, leaving Tommy alone with his thoughts.

He’ll reply soon - if he hasn’t already. It might just have gotten lost, or been delayed - a letter will arrive soon. I - I know it. 

He - he’s just busy. He said he had a lot to do!

He said he’d write to me. So - so he will. 

I trust him. 

There was a knock at the door and Tommy lifted his head. “Come in!”

Lord Quackity entered the room, a stack of books in his arms. 

Tommy shot off the bed, brushing himself off to remove any wrinkles in his clothing. “Ah! L-Lord Quackity - I - I d-didn’t know it was you…”

“I noticed,” Quackity laughed, not unkindly. Tommy felt some of the tension leave his shoulders. “I came to check in on you - and give you these,” he added, placing the books on a side table.

“Uh - th-thank you,” Tommy blinked. “Can - can I ask why?”

“Oh, I just… I was in the library and I thought you’d enjoy them,” Quackity explained. “You don’t have to read them, I just… wanted to do something nice.”

Tommy flushed. “I - I - uh - wh-why?” he stammered, blushing even harder as the childish question escaped. 

Quackity shrugged. “I… I was just… worrying about you, I suppose. I know you were close to your tutor, it must be difficult without him here.”

Tommy swallowed. “I - y-yeah. I miss him.”

“Quite understandable,” Quackity nodded. “He was important to you, it must be odd being in the palace without him.”

“Y-yeah. It is a bit,” Tommy said quietly.

“He must write to you though?” Quackity said brightly. “That must be nice!”

It was probably supposed to cheer him up, but Tommy felt himself deflate further. “I… yeah.”

Quackity tilted his head. “Are you alright?”

Tommy found himself unable to meet the lord’s eyes. “He… he writes.”

“But not lately?” Quackity said gently. 

Tommy shrugged. “G-guess he’s busy.”

Quackity nodded. “Yes, of course. Being a professor is a lot of work, but I imagine Wilbur is loving it.”

“He definitely is,” Tommy agreed. “He adores teaching.”

“And he loves that school,” Quackity said casually. “I’m sure he’s thrown himself into working there - he’s probably just…. forgotten about some of the going’s-on back here, that’s all.” 

Tommy felt something drop in his heart - like a stone falling into a well. “I - I…”

Quackity smiled. “You couldn’t blame him for that.”

“N-no,” Tommy whispered. “I - I guess not.”

Quackity let out a breath. “Well, I’ll leave you to it!” he said cheerfully, indicating the stack of books. He paused. “If - I’ll try and be around some more, to keep you company since Wilbur is… busy.” He inclined his head. “Good afternoon Tommy.”

And with that he swept out, leaving Tommy alone with a horrible, sinking feeling in his gut. 

o0o

Dear Wilbur,

Hi Wilbur - I just wanted to check whether you replied to my last letter. No worries if you didn’t, I know you’re busy! You don’t have to respond to me or anything, it’s fine, I just wondered. It’s not like you to not reply, so if you did then that means it’s something wrong with the postal system. I hope this letter doesn’t get lost too if that’s the problem! 

If you’re too busy to reply that’s fine, like I said! I’d be glad you’re enjoying yourself and settling in and all that - I said that job would suit you! 

I’m happy to be right.

Love, 
Tommy

–o0o–

“We could close the siege portcullis at night,” Techno suggested, pointing at the diagram of the palace Sam had dug out of his files. “That would reinforce that weak point.”

“But what about ease of access?” Phil pointed out. “It would be massively inconvenient for anyone entering or exiting - not to mention the guards having to raise and lower two gates every time someone goes in or out.”

“I see what you mean. And I suppose, if an attack were to happen, it would be hard to get the vulnerable within the castle walls fast enough.”

Phil raised an eyebrow. “Do you think a siege is likely?”

Techno swallowed. “N-not exactly.”

But you never know. You have to be prepared - for everything. 

I - I don’t… I don’t know if… 

I thought I was strong enough… but…

“I wouldn’t blame you if your judgement were to… slip. In the heat of the moment.”

“It - it’s good to prepare,” Techno swallowed. “Just - just in case.”

Philza nodded grimly. Techno knew that the king was all too aware of the cost of being caught unprepared - the loss that occurs when you least expect it. Phil was determined not to allow it to happen again - he would not lose his son the way he lost the boy’s mother. 

There was a knock at the door and Phil answered it without raising his head. “Come in!”

The door opened and Lord Quackity entered. “Your Majesty, Sir Technoblade,” he greeted, placing a stack of papers on Phil’s desk. “Puffy and I found these for you to go over - they might help with drafting emergency protocols.”

Phil crossed over to his desk, leafing through a few of the documents. “Thank you Quackity.”

“You’re welcome,” Quackity said warmly. “I’m happy to do what I can to help.”

Techno absently looked up at the clock over the desk, starting as he realised the hour hand had somehow reached nine without either him or Phil noticing. Prime.

Phil noticed him looking and followed his gaze, eyes widening as he registered the time. “Holy sh*t - I - I completely forgot - I was supposed to have dinner with Tommy hours ago!” 

Quackity blinked. “Oh. Prime.”

“I - oh sh*t, he’s going to - he’ll think I - he’ll think -”

“-he’ll think you were busy, that’s all,” Quackity said quickly, cutting off Phil’s worried rambling. “I’m sure he’ll understand.”

Phil swallowed, shaking his head. “No, no - he’s - he’s going to -”

“You were seeking to protect him, your majesty. I’m sure he’ll understand - he’ll be touched, honestly.”

Phil still looked rattled. “I - I… I should… I should apologise -”

Quackity placed a steadying hand on the king’s shoulder. “Allow me. You have work to do, I’ll make your excuses to the prince.”

Phil bit his lip. “Are - are you sure? I don’t - I don’t want him to think I d-don’t care -”

Quackity smiled. “I’ll make sure he knows, don’t worry. He’ll be fine, trust me. He’ll know you were just protecting him, this is important.”

“Th-thank you Quackity,” Phil said, taking a deep breath. “I appreciate it.”

Quackity smiled. “Anytime.”

o0o

Dear Tommy,

I’m not really sure how to write this letter, so I suppose I should just… say it. 

Tommy, is everything alright at the palace?

I haven’t received a letter from you in a while - and that’s fine, of course, I just… didn’t expect it, I guess? It’s got me a little worried, you were so quick to respond for the first month, so this is new. If it’s just that you’re having fun now that no one is there to teach you, that’s perfectly fine, I don’t mind! 

Only… I wrote to Phil and Techno to ask if something was wrong, but never got a reply from them either. I don’t - I’m just confused I suppose. 

So… yeah. Is everything alright? I hope it is, I’ll be back in winter to see you. I miss you Tommy. 

Your teacher, 
Wilbur Soot. 

o0o

Dear Wilbur,

I…

Tommy stopped, unsure of what to say next. 

‘Why have you stopped writing?’ was probably too direct - too agressive. 

And yet it - it wasn’t even the real question he wanted to ask. 

Tommy took a deep breath and wrote it down.

‘Do you still care about me?’

And then crossed it out.

o0o

Tommy would never say he was glad Tubbo had been hurt by Schlatt. It didn’t matter that the seventeen-year-old was an incredible servant, especially for his age. It didn’t matter that there wasn’t a tear Tubbo couldn’t mend or stain he couldn’t remove, not when his skill had come at such a cost. Not when Tommy had talked Tubbo down from flashbacks and panic attacks for months, had witnessed every scar that his friend still bore, both visible and unseen. If it were up to him his best friend would have lived a life entirely away from that man, from anyone that would dare raise a hand to him, let alone anything else.

But, in this moment… he was glad that Tubbo could read moods. 

His servant was working in relative silence, not attempting to engage him in conversation. He didn’t seem afraid, thank Prime, just giving Tommy some space, and Tommy was incredibly grateful - he would try to thank him later, when he wasn’t feeling like… sh*t, for lack of a better word. 

‘There’s always a better word than that,’ Wilbur would have said - being a total hypocrite, of course. ‘The English language is such a varied and rich one - use it!’

But Wilbur’s not here, is he?

No one is - aside from Tubbo, thank Prime.

Tommy sighed quietly, not wanting to disturb one of the only people in the palace who still seemed to want to spend time around him. His dad and Techno had been busy for weeks now, doing some sort of security overhaul. He understood it was important - Quackity had been careful to explain that it was very important for his safety as well as everyone else in the palace.

But still.

His dad had missed a few meals with him lately. He hadn’t done that since… 

Since before Wilbur. 

Tommy swallowed and felt his heart shrink just a little more.

o0o

Tommy dropped the pen back onto the desk, folding his arms. 

Quackity raised an eyebrow from his armchair. “Everything alright?”

“What’s the point anymore? He - he never responds, it’s been nearly two months! ” Tommy said angrily, flushing as his voice cracked. “He - he doesn’t care.”

Quackity looked down at his lap for a long moment. “He’s… busy Tommy. I’m… I’m sure he still cares…”

“You can’t even make it sound convincing,” Tommy said bitterly. 

Quackity winced. “Sorry.”

“It - it’s fine,” Tommy said quickly. “Sorry for snapping, I just…” he trailed off, throat tight. 

What happened to ‘I’ll write as often as I can’?

What happpened to ‘I promise’?

What - what happened to ‘how could I ever forget you’?

Quackity swallowed. “I - I’m sorry Tommy.”

“I told you -”

“Not for that. For - for this,” Quackity said quietly.

“It’s not your fault.”

“I… can’t help feeling like it is. I - I always thought there was something strange about Wilbur, but everyone seemed to… like him. I… I should have spoken up sooner -”

Tommy shook his head. “I - I don’t think it would have changed anything.” I worshipped the f*cking ground he walked on. F*ck.

“Still,” Quackity shrugged. “I - I’m sorry Tommy. I know he meant a lot to you.”

“He did,” Tommy whispered brokenly. “He - he really, really did.”

Memories were flashing through his head, one after another in an unstoppable tidal wave he couldn’t stop. Wilbur teaching him to play the guitar, comforting him after a nightmare, crying when they were almost separated that first time. Wilbur being his shoulder to cry on when healing was hard, explaining things that seemed to big for him to grasp, having patience even when Tommy pushed his own father away. Wilbur declaring he’d take a knife for him, Wilbur hovering by his bedside when Dream drugged him so that he could make sure he was there when Tommy woke up. Wilbur playing in the snow with him, Wilbur trying (and failing) to ride a horse, Wilbur teaching him about flowers by helping to plant them, Wilbur, Wilbur, Wilbur - 

How could that all have been… false? Fake? All just a trick, to get closer to me, closer to Dad and the throne and - and - 

Why?

I was just a pawn to him. Just a - a stepping stone. He used me, like everyone does. 

I thought he was different. I - I really did. 

Wilbur’s eyes were… honest. That’s what everyone seemed to think - there was a shared understanding in the palace that when Wilbur said something he meant it, he couldn’t hide his emotions, not with the way his eyes shone or his glasses misted up. He spoke so earnestly it sounded like it came straight from the heart, like he really believed what he was saying. It made you believe him too.

Tommy didn’t know if he could believe Wilbur any more. 

He didn’t know and Prime that scared him. He had trusted Wilbur with his whole heart and soul and - and now he didn’t know. 

How much of it was real? How much was fake?

If he broke this promise - if he isn’t writing to me anymore - how many more will he toss aside?

D-did - did he ever even care at all?

“I - is there anything I can do?” Quackity said gently. 

Tommy shook his head and stood up. “I’m going to go find Tubbo,” he said quietly. He didn’t want to be in the library any more. And if there was one person he could still count on, it was his best friend.

Quackity nodded, giving him a long look. “Alright then.”

o0o

“Excuse me.”

Tubbo spun around as quickly as he could, tucking his hands behind his back as he did, lifting his head so he could see who was speaking. 

Ah. 

He lowered it carefully. He knew this man. It was Lord Quackity.

Quackity and Schlatt had been… friends. Of a sort. Business partners more than friends, Tubbo doubted Quackity had shed a tear when Schlatt was killed, and if Schlatt had cared for the other man as anything more than someone to drink and smoke with, Tubbo hadn’t seen a hint of it. 

He - he didn’t… 

Quackity made him… nervous. He had certainly tripped Tubbo up on purpose more than once, just so he could laugh as he watched the young servant struggle to stand. Tubbo had never figured out whether Quackity simply found it generally funny… or if he knew the real reason it was so hard for him to stand. If he knew about the red stripes hidden beneath his shirt, pulsing with pain as he pushed himself up. 

You’re being paranoid, he told himself sternly, trying to get his shoulders to relax. “Can I help you, sir?”

“Perhaps,” Quackity said, lips pursed. “You’re the prince’s servant, right?”

Tubbo nodded. “Yes, sir. Do - do you need to me to deliver a message, or -”

Quackity held up a hand and Tubbo fell silent at once. “I need you to be quiet, for starters.”

Tubbo swallowed, hard. I’m sorry - I know better - 

Relax. 

C’mon, you can do this, you’re safe. One lord being moody doesn’t mean anything, they all promised that you’re safe now. Wilbur promised. 

But Wilbur isn’t here…

That doesn’t matter. It’s still the palace, you’re still s-safe. Just - just take a deep breath. 

He obeyed his own internal monologue, exhaling slowly as he nodded. 

Quackity looked pleased. “Good. This might be easier than I anticipated.”

What does that mean?

Quackity stared him down for a long moment, letting the silence stretch out uncomfortably. Tubbo resisted the urge to say anything, even as the seconds ticked by and he felt himself getting smaller and smaller. 

“You were Schlatt’s,” Quackity said eventually. 

Every cell in Tubbo’s body snapped to attention, tension making him rigid with fear, frozen as the lord continued talking. “Do you know what happened to him?”

Tubbo shrugged carefully. He did know - of course he did, the truth of what they had done for him would never cease to blow him away - but he didn’t know what answer Quackity wanted. 

“Oh,” Quackity said softly. “I don’t think we need to lie to each other Tubbo.”

Tubbo dug his nails into his palms, trying to stop the trembling before it began. “S-s-sorry sir,” he said, careful to keep his voice quiet. “I - I do know.”

“Good,” Quackity said softly. “Very good.”

Tubbo didn’t know what to say to that, so opted to stay silent.

“You’ve been spending a lot of time with the prince lately,” Quackity said abruptly. 

Tubbo blinked. “I - I suppose? He - he is my assignment, so…”

“Is that the only reason?”

Tubbo felt colour rise to his cheeks. “I - uh… T-Tommy - he - he’s my… f-f-friend t-too. I - I g-guess.”

Quackity’s face darkened and Tubbo shrank back unconsciously. “I see. Well, Tubbo, I have some new orders for you.”

Tubbo’s gut twisted uncomfortably. “S-sir?”

“Stay away from him,” Quackity said forcefully. “Don’t be in a room with him if you can help it, don’t speak to him unless you have to, and when you do stop calling him Tommy, for Prime’s sake.”

Tubbo took a cautious step back. “I - I don’t think - I don’t think I can do that sir -”

He was cut off by Quackity striding forward and grabbing him by the chin. 

Tubbo f*cking froze. 

“Maybe I wasn’t clear. I’m not asking, Tubbo. I’m telling you.”

Tubbo’s chest was rising and falling but - but he wasn’t breathing, he couldn’t breathe, there wasn’t enough air and someone was gripping his chin, fingers digging in painfully and - 

Quackity was smiling now, a shark that had caught its prey. “You’re going to do as I f*cking say, boy.”

Oh, Prime.

“Out of my way boy.”

“Boy! Fetch me a whisky. Now.” 

“Boy. Kneel.”

“And if you don’t…” Quackity laughed, sending a fresh wave of terror shooting through Tubbo’s body. “Then maybe I’ll persuade the king to let me take home a new servant. I know Schlatt trained you well.” He leaned closer, lowering his voice. “I’d love to find out how much you still… remember.”

Oh Prime. 

Oh Prime, oh f*ck, no, Prime, please, no, no no no - I can’t, I can’t, I can’t go back to that, I can’t - it - it - it would kill me - 

“I - I - th-th-the king w-wouldn’t -”

“Are you sure?” Quackity said softly. “You’re just a servant Tubbo. Replaceable . And I can be very… persuasive.”

He’s right, you know he’s right, he could - he could t-take you, the king likes him, he - he - 

He could hurt you again. Again and again with no way out and no one to save you and everyone would think it was fine…

I - I c-can’t go back to that, I c-can’t - 

Quackity smirked and patted his cheek before releasing him. Tubbo stumbled back, hand on his face as though he could somehow replace the unwelcome touch with his own, chest heaving in uneven gasps as he backed away down the corridor. 

Quackity folded his arms. “I don’t give second chances Tubbo. Don’t f*ck this up.”

Tubbo turned and ran. 

o0o

Dear Professor. Soot,

F*ck you.

This is my last letter. I’m done.

Regards,
HRH, Crown Prince Thomas, Heir Apparent to the Antarctic Empire

o0o

Tommy was… alone. 

Just three months ago he had been surrounded by people he cared about - people he trusted, people he would move mountains for. People he - people he loved. 

People he had thought loved him back.

But his dad and Techno were scarce these days, always busy with their new security measures. Their apologies sounded flat and empty to Tommy now. How was there always more work to do - more reports to go through, more maps to pore over? 

Was he really that easy to overlook? 

Tubbo was… gone too. Out of nowhere he had just… faded away. Disappeared . The floors were always clean, the furniture polished and laundry neatly folded and put away - but there was no sign of the hands that had done the work - no sign of the only thing Tommy really wanted from Tubbo. His friendship had just, vanished, disappearing around corners, bowing and scurrying away before he could even think the words ‘did I do something wrong?’

And Wilbur…

F*cking Wilbur. 

I trusted you, you b*tch. I - I thought you cared. 

I thought they all did. 

A knock sounded at the door and Tommy blinked back tears, pushing down the wobble in his throat as he said: “Come in!”

Quackity’s head poked into the room. “Hello Tommy. Want to take a walk around the gardens with me?”

Tommy took a deep breath and nodded. 

At least he still had Quackity.

At least one person still cared.

o0o

Dear Tommy,

Tommy, I…

I’m worried. You’re not writing to me, neither are the others… is everything alright at the palace? Has something happened? 

If it was me… if it was something I did, I want you to know I am sorry. I would never want to hurt you, never, I promise it was an accident, whatever it was. I don’t know what I did to make you stop writing to me - to make Phil and even Techno stop writing to me - but if I did something I am truly sorry Toms. 

I’m not even sure you’re reading my letters anymore. I hope they’re still getting to you - I assume they are, but I can’t know for sure until I get back. 

Because I am coming back. I promised, and I am. And once I’m back I’m going to figure out what happened and make it right. I’m going to fix this, I swear to you. 

Yours,
Wilbur

Chapter Text

It was snowing. 

Wilbur liked the snow, within reason - more to look at, than to actually be in. Maybe it was the lack of meat on his bones - even now, when food was no longer the bare minimum his schoolteacher salary could afford, his body still refused to put on weight - but he didn’t really like the cold, much preferring to stay indoors curled up on a window seat with a cup of tea and a good book. He could appreciate how beautiful snow made the world look, dusting everything in a layer of white icing sugar. 

But right now? He hated the snow. 

He tapped his fingers on his knees restlessly, wishing he could somehow make the carriage move faster. 

I have to get back. I have to get back. 

Something had gone wrong at the palace. Phil and Techno had stopped replying to him months ago, Tubbo too - although the kid was still learning to write, so that was less concerning. 

But Tommy…

Tommy had stopped replying. Wilbur’s first pupil - the bright teenager so eager to learn, with an endearing smile and a heart that longed so desperately to be loved - had stopped replying.

And Wilbur didn’t know why. 

Did he even get my letters?

He must have, surely, the mail service can’t have lost all of them…

So then why did he stop replying? What did I do wrong?

Was it something I did? Something I said, something I wrote down? 

What did I do?

He would fix it. He had to fix it - the palace was his home, his king, pupils and fellow staff were the closest thing he’d ever had to family. 

He couldn’t - it couldn’t fall apart. It just couldn’t. 

Finally, the carriage came to a stop. Wilbur poked his head out of the window and was met with the sight of the palace gates. At last.

And in front of the gates…

Prime, Wilbur had missed them. 

He didn’t bother waiting for the footman to step down and open the carriage door for him, instead opting to fling it open himself and hurry down the steps towards…

Towards…

Tommy wasn’t there. 

There was Phil in green furs, Tubbo in a working jacket, Techno in his winter uniform…

But no Tommy.  

A cold drop of sadness seeped into Wilbur’s excitement even as Phil smiled warmly at him, taking his hand and shaking it firmly. “Welcome back Wilbur. We missed you.”

Did you? Wilbur wanted to ask. Then why didn’t you reply when I asked - when I begged you to tell me what was going on? 

Did you even want me to come back at all?

But he didn’t even have time to fully form a sentence in his mind before Phil was releasing him, allowing Techno to clap him on the back, pulling him into a quick hug. “It’s good to have you back.”

Wilbur’s mind spun. Why is everyone pretending nothing has happened? What’s going on?!

Techno broke away before Wilbur had a chance to hug him back. “I hope you had a good time.”

“I - I did,” Wilbur said awkwardly. Until you all stopped talking to me. Until - until I thought I’d lost you - I… I thought I lost you.

“Good,” Phil smiled. “Sadly, Techno and I have work to do so I’m afraid we don’t have time to help you get settled back in. Still - please swing by my office later for tea if you have time.” The king swallowed, looking slightly pink. “I’ve - uh - missed our talks.”

“So - so have I,” Wilbur said dazedly. 

Phil turned to Techno. “Shall we get going?”

Techno nodded quickly. “See you in a bit Wil.”

And with that, the two of them hurried up the path to the palace. 

Wilbur blinked. “Where - what are they doing?”

“Some - some sort of security project. They’ve been working on it for weeks,” Tubbo’s voice said, jolting Wilbur out of his bewilderment. He’d been so caught up in the strangeness he’d almost forgotten the boy was there. 

He forced a gentle smile onto his face. “Hello Tubbo. I missed you.”

He opened his arms and Tubbo dove into them without hesitation. Wilbur wrapped him up, holding the young servant close. The kid clung to him tightly.

Almost… desperately?

Wilbur didn’t like that thought at all, but it wouldn’t go away. He’d hugged Tubbo before, but this felt like the first time - when Tubbo had broken down in his arms, positive touch still a novelty. 

“Tubbo… are you… okay?” He asked cautiously. 

Tubbo’s breathing hitched. “Why - why wouldn’t I be?”

Wilbur kept his voice steady. “No reason necessarily, I just… worry about you, y’know?”

Tubbo pulled away from the hug. “There’s no need to worry, I’m fine!”

There was a smile on his face, but it looked… strained. 

Forced. 

What the f*ck is going on around here?!

Wilbur swallowed. 

If he wanted to figure out… whatever it was, then he had to be patient. Tubbo knew… something, or, at least the intuitive servant could sense that there was something wrong about the palace right now. But demanding answers wouldn’t get him anywhere - and even if it did it would only be at the cost of Tubbo’s trust. 

Wilbur had worked way too hard to earn that to lose it. Patience it was. “I’m going to put my cases in my rooms, do you want to come?”

Tubbo shook his head quickly. “I - um - I h-have chores to do,” he rushed out. “I - I’ll - I’ll see you later.” 

And with that, he was gone, practically sprinting through the gardens towards the servant’s entrance.

Wilbur stared after him worriedly. 

Something was very wrong at the heart of the Antarctic Empire. 

o0o

Wilbur hurried towards Tommy’s room. He didn’t know if the prince would even want to see him, but he wanted to show that he was trying - that Tommy was the first person he had gone looking for after his return. 

That he wasn’t going to give up until whatever had gone crooked between them was straightened out. 

He knocked, waiting hopefully for an answer. 

After a few moments of waiting with his heart in his throat, he got one. “Come in!”

Wilbur breathed a sigh of relief and pushed the door open. 

Only to stop dead in his tracks as he took in the sight before him. 

Tommy was right there , icy blue eyes staring right at him from where he sat. The prince was dressed in… unusually formal clothing for him. He looked… 

He looked like the prince Wilbur had feared he would be when they first met.

And - and -

And across from him….

Quackity smiled, dark eyes glinting at him from where he sat on the armchair that had always been… Wilbur’s . 

“Oh, hello Wilbur.”

Wilbur couldn’t speak. He could hardly breathe. 

Tommy face was hard. “Do you want something? Our lessons don’t start until Monday.”

The air felt thick, Wilbur couldn’t breathe it in - he couldn’t do anything aside from stand there, choking on utter horror as Quackity raised an eyebrow. “I think the teacher has… forgotten his place.”

Wilbur could have vomited, an awful combination of fear and shame rising at the mention of their shared… secret. Oh Prime - 

Tommy snorted and shook his head. “I doubt it.”

Quackity smirked. “Close the door behind you as you leave.”

The thinly veiled command seemed to get through the fog in his mind and Wilbur found himself stumbling backwards, closing the door before pressing himself against the stone wall, as though under attack. He - he felt like he was under attack, like someone was standing over him, fists raised and stepping closer - 

He - he - Quackity - he - he replaced me with Quackity - I - I - 

Of course he did, of course he did, there - Quackity is… he’s a noble, he’s appropriate company - he - he’s…

Prime…

Wilbur wanted to sink into the floor and disappear . 

Tommy had chosen Quackity. Quackity . 

Quackity, who had made Wilbur’s life miserable, had berated him at every turn, had hit him, forced him to kneel - to bow - 

Quackity had won.

And the lord knew it.

Wilbur was nothing compared to him. He’d - he’d always know that, deep down. He’d just… tried pretending otherwise. Tried pretending that a professorship made him worth something. 

Quackity knew otherwise. Tommy knew otherwise. 

Wilbur wanted to break down and cry right there and then.

Thankfully he managed to make it to his room and sink down against the door first. He didn’t need any more humiliations today. 

o0o

The door closed and Tommy turned back to Quackity. The lord was still smiling. “Well done Tommy.”

Tommy couldn’t quite bring himself to smile back. “Thank you for helping me.”

“No, no, credit where it’s due,” Quackity responded, picking his teacup back up. “You handled that very well.”

“Thanks,” Tommy replied, mirroring him. “I just wanted to get rid of him.”

“Completely understandable,” Quackity nodded. “He… used you. That… I’m surprised you haven’t fired him already.”

“I haven’t settled on not doing that,” Tommy said, only half joking. He…

He couldn’t believe Wilbur. Mr Soot. Whatever . 

I trusted him. I trusted him and he - he f*cking used me. He tricked me into believing he cared, that I was what mattered, not the crown or the money or the influence or… or…

He was just like all the others. 

I can’t believe he was just like all the others. 

But he could.

Quackity gave him a strained smile. “For what it’s worth - I’ve said it before, I know, but… I am sorry Tommy. For… all of it.”

Tommy shook his head. “And I’ve told you already, it wasn’t your fault. You… you stopped it before it went too far.” And you stayed with me in the aftermath.

You’re the only one who’s still here. 

Quackity grimaced. “Still. I should have done something sooner.”

“You did something now, that’s what counts,” Tommy said firmly.

They lapsed into silence. 

Tommy had done this before - had had warm drinks in his bedroom, sitting across from the mentor he trusted most. 

Of course, with Wilbur, there had never been silence. And there had been more laughter, more of a variety in topic. Not that Tommy minded Quackity’s topics of choice, most of which were related to politics or palace infighting, he was just glad Quackity was talking to him, even though Wilbur was… Wilbur was…

A lump formed in his throat but he shoved it away. Stop that. Don’t cry over him. He doesn’t deserve that - he never cared. You know he doesn’t deserve your care . 

Prime, Tommy wished he had never started caring about Wilbur at all. 

Quackity stood and Tommy’s eyes shot to meet his. “You’re - you’re leaving?”

Quackity gave him a long look. “Do you want me to stay?”

Yes. Please, please, I don’t want to be alone, not all over again, please - 

Tommy opened his mouth and then closed it again as the small voice in his head rose once more. 

It had been whispering to him a lot lately.

Don’t demand too much. 

That’s probably what drove Wilbur away. You were too - too needy. 

That’s why - Techno and Tubbo - that’s what drove them away too. 

That’s why Dad is never around. 

You’re too much. 

You know you’re too much. 

“It - it’s f-fine,” Tommy said quickly, forcing a smile onto his face. “Sorry. I’ll - I’ll see you later?”

Quackity nodded from the doorway. “Sure. Why don’t you go speak with… Tubbo, was it?”

Tommy hoped his face didn’t fall the way his heart did. It wasn’t Quackity’s fault, he didn’t know. “He - uh - he’s not been around lately. All the chores are being done, I just don’t… see him much.”

Quackity tilted his head. “Are you alright Tommy?”

Tommy shrugged half-heartedly. “Yeah I’m fine. It’s just…” I feel like everyone is leaving me. I feel abandoned and I - I hate that I let myself love so many people. It hurts four times as much now. “...I miss him.”

Quackity nodded slowly, saying nothing, an odd look on his face. Tommy knew what he was probably thinking. It was nothing the lord hadn’t said before, however gently.

“Tubbo isn’t your friend he’s your servant. Techno isn’t your friend he’s a guard. I know it might be hard to hear, but they have… y’know. Different lives. Different friends.”

“Your father the king… he just doesn’t have time today Tommy. I’m sorry… you understand, right?”

And Tommy nodded, because he did understand. 

It was nothing new anyway.

“Well… I’m sure he has his reasons,” Quackity said eventually. “I’ll see you later Toms.” The door closed behind him, leaving Tommy alone. Again.

Toms…

That was - no, had been - Wilbur’s nickname for him. 

Tommy hated this. He hated Wilbur for doing this to him - he hated him for using him just to get closer to the throne, for turning kindness into a cruelty. 

He hated that he still missed him. 

He missed his tutor. He missed the reassuring hand on his shoulder or in his hair, he missed the patience, the understanding, the soft smiles that the teacher threw everywhere like confetti. He missed earning that other smile. The one that meant ‘I’m proud of you’. 

Or at least that was what Tommy used to think it meant. 

He knew better now. 

He was a f*cking idiot for ever trying to pretend otherwise. 

o0o

Tubbo wiped down the windows as quickly as he could, heart thudding in his chest. 

He’d forgotten how awful it was to do chores when he was afraid. 

This was a different sort of fear, of course. He wasn’t afraid that someone would come in and see a job badly done - a mistake, an excuse. He wasn’t afraid of Tommy. 

But, at the same time, he was. 

He was f*cking terrified that Tommy would come in and start - start asking questions. He’d been avoiding the prince - avoiding his best friend - for a few weeks now. There was no way Tommy wouldn’t want to know what was wrong. Would start asking why he’d started avoiding him and - and - 

And Tubbo was a bad liar. He - he wasn’t used to it. Schlatt always seemed to know what he’d done, and Tubbo had quickly learned it was easier to just… tell the truth. It saved time, if nothing else. 

So if Tommy were to ask… Tubbo would tell him. 

And then - and then - 

And then Quackity would - he would - 

Tubbo liked to hope - liked to pretend - that the prince would protect him. That Tommy would stand up to Quackity and save him from… that. 

But he knew better than to think Quackity couldn’t persuade Tommy to his point of view. He knew better than to think Tommy - or anyone - would believe him. He knew better than to think he was irreplaceable. 

He knew better than to expect anything better than the worst-case scenario. 

At least here he still had safety. At least here he still had Wibur’s hugs - that one at the gate had been really nice. It was nice to pretend everything was going to be okay, even if just for a moment… Wilbur always felt like safety to Tubbo. 

He couldn’t get… weak like that too often though. Wilbur always seemed to know when something was wrong, which was not something Tubbo could afford right now. 

So Tubbo polished and scrubbed until his knees and wrists ached and his fingertips were bleeding from cleaning without breaks. It didn’t matter. That pain was nothing compared to what would happen to him if he was forced to leave the palace. 

o0o

Wilbur sat in his classroom, staring blankly at his chalkboard. He used to be excited to plan lessons for Tommy. Now…

Now he was almost… afraid. 

Who are you anyway? A village schoolteacher with a - a fancy title. Who are you to educate the prince on - on anything? 

Why would he need you when Quackity can teach him things you never could?

He - he knew he was good at his job. He knew he was. 

Didn’t he?

Wilbur choked on a sob, burying his head in his hands where he sat on his desk. Prime…

The palace had never felt colder. 

There was a knock on the door so Wilbur lifted his head, hurriedly wiping his steamed-up glasses on his sleeve. “Come in?”

The door swung open and Wilbur’s heart skipped a beat, body tensing all over as he hastily shoved his glasses back onto his face. 

Quackity smirked at him. “Ah, Wilbur.”

Wilbur backed away nervously, keeping the desk carefully between them, afraid and ashamed of his fear all at once. “Qu-Quackity.”

Once, that would have elicited a glower from Quackity. Wilbur had been expecting a glare. But the lord only chuckled. “Didn’t we have this discussion already?”

Wilbur curled his fists into his robes, trying to hide the way they shook. “What - what d-do you want?” 

Quackity strolled into the room, letting the door swing shut behind him. “Can’t I come visit the returning professor? So much has changed since you left, you know.”

“Wh-what did you d-d-do to him?” Wilbur demanded, cursing the tremor in his voice. “Why is he - why is he spending t-time with you?”

Quackity quirked an eyebrow. “Wilbur. Surely you’re not suggesting I am inappropriate company for the prince.”

“I - I’m - I -"

“He’s his own person, isn’t he? He can make his own choices,” Quackity shrugged, an easy smile still on his face. “Just because it hurts your feelings… that doesn’t mean it’s wrong.”

“I - I -” 

Wilbur hated how uncomfortable he felt - how on-edge and nervous and downright afraid. He had so many things he wanted to say, but somehow the words kept getting stuck in his throat, his fear practically choking him. Don’t challenge him - don’t test him - you don’t know what he’ll do to you. 

“I told you, you were forgetting your place here.” He cast a disparaging glance at him. “You can hardly blame him for coming to the same realisation.” 

That hurt . Like a physical blow to the chest, Wilbur gasped with the pain of it. 

Quackity must have heard him, because his smile grew wider. “He deserves better than you.” 

Wilbur didn’t know what to say to that.

It was true, after all. 

Quackity’s eyes scanned his face, gleaming at the hurt he’d left there. “The sooner you learn that, the… better we’ll get along.” He crossed the room, heading back to the door. “See you around Wilbur. And…” he paused, satisfaction oozing out of his smug smile. “Do try not to forget your place again. I’d hate to have to remind you.”

And with that, he was gone. 

Wilbur collapsed into his desk chair, body shaking. Oh Prime, oh Prime, oh Prime.

Quackity scared the f*cking sh*t out of him. He was in control of every interaction and he knew it. Wilbur knew it too. 

And it petrified him. 

He knew Quackity. He knew people like Quackity. They were all… cruel . He knew that. 

That didn’t mean they weren’t also right. 

Wilbur wasn’t a hero. Punz had been right about that one. 

And Tommy deserved someone better than him. Quackity was right about that too. Tommy deserved better than Wilbur. 

But he also deserved better than Quackity. 

Wilbur gritted his teeth and took a deep breath. 

He was still Tommy’s teacher. Not Quackity. It was his job to make sure Tommy learned the right lessons. 

And Wilbur certainly didn’t want Tommy to learn anything from the man that had forced him onto his knees last time the lord had tried to teach a lesson. 

Wilbur pulled out his planning notebook and began working. 

–o0o–

Wilbur looked up from his desk as the door swung open and took a deep breath. 

Tommy sat down at his desk, a blank expression on his face. Wilbur winced - he looked so much like he had done when they first met - unenthusiastic, sullen and bored. 

At least that time it hadn’t been personal.

Wilbur offered him a smile. “Hey Tommy.”

Tommy’s arms were folded tight across his chest. “Professor.”

He might as well have slapped him. 

“Wil-Wilbur is fine,” Wilbur said carefully. “You know that.”

Tommy rolled his eyes and muttered something unintelligible under his breath. 

F*ck Wilbur hated this. “I thought we could… do a review of the past few months. That way we can see where you’re at, and build from there. Sound good?”

Tommy looked down, glaring at the desk. “Sure.” 

He did not sound sincere. 

Wilbur sighed internally. “It’s probably too cold for a walk in the garden today, but how about we go sit in the library?” 

Tommy said nothing, so Wilbur decided to take that as a good sign. “We could get someone to bring us hot chocolates too if you wa-”

“Are you kidding me?!”

Wilbur blinked. “Wh-what?!”

Tommy’s face was like thunder. “You’re just going to pretend that nothing happened?!”

“Tommy - I -” 

“I can’t believe you,” Tommy spat. “I - I thought you were… better than this.”

Alright, I guess we’re talking about this now then. So much for a neutral location. Wilbur took a tentative step forwards. “Tommy… I don’t know what I did to you. I - I swear, I didn’t -”

“You don’t know?!” Tommy exclaimed. “You - you don’t know?!”

Wilbur spread his hands. “Tommy I promise I would never do anything to hurt you.”

Tommy laughed bitterly. “Yeah, sure. That’s what I thought - that’s what he said you’d say.”

“Who said -”

“Quackity,” Tommy snapped. “You - he was… I can’t believe you.”

An ice-cold spear of dread shot through Wilbur’s heart. “Tommy - what - what did Quackity say about me?”

Tommy shook his head. “It doesn’t f*cking matter.”

It does. Oh, believe me, it does. “Please Tommy.”

“Why do you want to know?!”

Sh*t. “Well…” Wilbur said slowly, choosing his words very carefully. “L-Lord Quackity is… a very… calculating person.”

“That’s rich,” Tommy scoffed. 

Wilbur blinked. “What?!”

Tommy got to his feet, gaze hot with anger and… hurt? “You - you’re - you’re the calculating one. You - you used me.”

Wilbur felt his eyes go wide. “I - I - what?”

I would never. I would never - 

“You u-used me,” Tommy spat, voice breaking even in his fury. “You used me and then you - you just… left.”

Wilbur’s mind spun. “I - Tommy - I don’t -” I don’t understand. You told me to go - you said you wanted me to take the opportunity. 

You… you said you wanted everyone to have a teacher like me. 

“You stopped replying,” Tommy said wobbily, fists clenched. “You - you said you wouldn’t forget. And you did. As soon as I wasn’t - wasn’t u-u-useful anymore.”

He didn’t get my letters, Wilbur realised, a piece of the puzzle finally slotting into place with perfect clarity. He - he didn’t get any of them for two months. 

Oh Prime. 

He didn’t get any of them for two months.

“Tommy,” Wilbur breathed. “Tommy - I - I didn’t forget you. I - I didn’t - the letters just -”

“They just what?!” Tommy snarled, eyes wet. “They were just too much effort?! They weren’t worth it anymore?!”

“What?! No, they just didn’t arrive -”

“For two months?! Yeah right.” Tommy chuckled humourlessly. “I - I don’t want to hear your excuses anymore. You had two months to give them to me. I’m f*cking done.”

Wilbur’s heart was breaking, tearing in two. He could hardly breathe through the pain of it. “ Please, just hear me out -”

“No,” Tommy snapped. “I’m going to find Quackity.”

If there had been air in Wilbur’s lungs it would have been knocked out of him. As it was he could only gasp out: “Tommy…”

Tommy strode to the door while Wilbur stayed frozen by his desk. “Just - just be glad you still have a j-job.”

He slammed the door behind him so hard that the chalkboard rattled against the wall. 

Wilbur stared after him. Did - did he just - 

Did he just threaten me?!

Wilbur stumbled back in a daze until he hit his desk, hands hitting the wood. 

The letters didn’t arrive. 

Does that mean none of them did? None of them got my letters - and I got none of theirs.

It made a certain amount of sense, but surely the palace mail service would be better than that? And none of the other professors (other professors, it was still so strange counting himself amongst them…) had complained of missing mail…

Wilbur shook himself. First things first. Tommy. 

He - those words weren’t his. Wilbur would never claim to be an expert on… well, anything , but he knew his pupil. He knew what he was like - or at least, he thought he did.

Missing letters would hurt him. Wilbur knew that, which was why he’d kept writing, even after the prince stopped replying. He would never desert Tommy, not when he’d seen the boy cry the last time he’d been close to leaving. He would never abandon Tommy to that sort of hurt. 

That sort of hurt. 

There was more than just hurt here. There was anger. Anger that Wilbur was certain was not organic - not Tommy’s own. Someone had planted it there, Wilbur would bet his life on it. 

In a way, he sort of was.

He pushed himself away from his desk and straightened his robes. 

Time to go find Techno. 

–o0o–

Techno knocked on Tommy’s door. Wilbur had been pretty vague when he’d asked Techno to ‘go check on him’, but Prime knew Techno found it really hard to say no to the teacher, especially when he had looked so earnest, hands running through his hair, knocking his glasses askew. “He - he knows you. He l-likes you… can you just go check on him? For me?”

Techno had agreed, and now here he was. He knocked again. “Tommy? It’s me, Techno.”

Still no response - the prince was probably taking a nap. Techno sighed and pushed the door open. 

To his surprise, there was no Tommy inside. Instead, he was met with the sight of Tubbo, apparently frozen halfway through changing the sheets on the bed, eyes wide. 

“Tubbo?” Techno said, raising his eyebrows. “What are you doing?”

Tubbo seemed to take a moment to register the question, blinking rapidly. “Ch-changing the sheets?” 

“Oh,” Techno said awkwardly. In hindsight, it was a pretty stupid question to ask. “Do you… want a hand?”

Tubbo shook his head. “I’ve got it.”

His eyes were still wide, he looked… oddly rattled. Tubbo was a jumpy kid, even now, but not like… this. In fact, as Techno looked closer, he noticed that Tubbo’s chest was heaving, as though he was trying to calm himself down. 

And oh, Techno did not care for this image at all. 

Tubbo looked far too much like he had years ago, trying to calm himself down after his mind conjured yet another worst-case scenario to torment himself with, hands tightly gripping the sheets in front of him as though to reassure himself that it hadn’t happened. That he was, at least for now, safe.

“Tubbo are you… okay?”

Tubbo swallowed, hard. “Y-yeah. I’m f-fine.”

Techno took a step forward. “Are you sure kid? You look…” Nervous. Afraid. “...uncomfortable?”

Tubbo shook his head quickly. Too quickly. “Everything’s fine!”

Techno frowned. “Where’s Tommy?"

That was another thing that was throwing him off. The two boys were almost always joined at the hip - partly out of obligation but mostly because they were friends. Techno had seen them whisper and giggle with each other, sharing secret jokes. He had seen Tubbo shuffle closer to Tommy when he was nervous, trusting the prince to protect him from whatever memory had risen to the surface of his mind. It - it didn’t seem right that Tubbo would look like this without Tommy around. 

However, this time, the mention of the prince’s name didn’t seem to make the servant feel any better. If anything Tubbo’s grip on the sheets only grew tighter. “I - I - I d-don’t know.”

“Do you want me to find him for you?” Techno suggested tentatively. 

“No! N-no, I - I just need to fix up his r-r-room. It - I - u-um - it - it’s easier w-without him here,” Tubbo stammered. 

Prime this kid was a bad liar.

But Techno could not, for the life of him, figure out why he was lying. 

“O-okay, I won’t,” he said hastily, backing out of the room. “I’ll - I’ll let you get on with your work kid. See you later.”

Tubbo didn’t move, still frozen in place when the door cut off Techno’s view of him. 

F*ck, Techno felt awful. 

I scared him. I scared him.

I think?

What the f*ck was that?!

He made a beeline for Wilbur’s classroom, rapping on the door and not bothering to wait for an answer before bursting in, practically startling the young teacher next to the chalkboard out of his skin. “Techno!”

“Sorry Wil,” Techno said quickly, letting the door close behind him as he hurried over, grabbing a chair and seating himself in front of Wilbur’s desk. “I - uh - have you spoken to Tubbo lately?”

Wilbur’s gaze instantly became more serious and he sat down, abandoning his attempts to - draw a world map? 

Wilbur’s cheeks grew pink. “Got stressed,” he said dismissively, waving a hand. “Ignore it.” 

“So you drew a world map?”

“Ignore it!”

“Fine, fine,” Techno relented, resigning himself to teasing the teacher for it later. “So have you talked to Tubbo?”

“Uh - for a few minutes when I first arrived. Why?”

“Did - did he seem… off to you?” Techno asked worriedly. Wilbur knew his pupils better than anyone. If anyone had seen something odd…

“He did,” Wilbur said slowly. “You see it too?”

Techno nodded rapidly. “He - he seems afraid Wil.”

Wilbur’s eyes grew hard. Prime, he looked intimidating like that - eyes so alive you could practically feel the intelligence coming off of the man in waves. “You think so?”

Techno swallowed. “I - I know fear,” he said quietly. “Wilbur he was afraid - he was afraid the moment I entered the room, and it only got worse the moment I mentioned Tommy.”

Wilbur’s eyes widened. “Tommy? Why? ”

Techno shrugged. “I don’t know why. I wish I did.” I don’t like seeing that kid scared.

Wilbur rested his elbows on the desk, clasping his hands together and placing his chin on them thoughtfully, brow furrowed. “I… Tommy would never do anything to hurt Tubbo. He - even if… no. No, even then he wouldn’t.” 

“Even if what? Wilbur, what’s going on? ”

“It’s… complicated,” Wilbur sighed. “I’m… working on it, I promise.”

“Can I help?”

Wilbur shook his head. “I don’t think so. It’s kinda… my problem.”

“Sharing burdens helps,” Techno said gently. I would know. You let me share mine with you.  

Wilbur seemed to hesitate and, for just a moment, he looked both far older and far younger than his twenty-one years, as though the weight of the world was pressing down on his shoulders.

Techno tried to analyse the strange look the teacher had, but it disappeared too quickly as Wilbur shook his head once more. “Thanks Techno, but it’s fine. I’ll handle it.”

Techno supposed he had no choice but to trust him. 

“What about Tubbo?” he asked. “I’m telling you Wil, he was scared. Not just… Tubbo-nervous, actively scared.”

“I’ll talk to him.” Wilbur’s eyes were lit with fierce determination, sparkling with acumen. “No-one frightens my pupils.” 

Not for the first time, Techno found he was glad Wilbur was on his side. 

–o0o–

Tubbo was walking in the gardens again. He did that pretty often these days - it was too cold for Quackity to be out here, and Tommy didn’t seem interested in playing in the snow anymore. Besides, at the speed he was doing chores these days, Tubbo found he had more free time than he was used to. 

“Tubbo? Can I talk to you?”

Tubbo spun around. “S-s-sure?” 

Wilbur - thank Prime - smiled gently at him. “You’re not in trouble I promise.” 

“O-okay,” Tubbo said carefully. Wilbur sat down on a stone bench, patting the space beside him. Tubbo joined him, looking out at the frost-covered gardens. “Can - can I h-help you?”

Wilbur’s smile turned slightly sad. “I was going to ask you that.”

Tubbo swallowed. “I - I d-don’t need help.”

I do. 

I need help - please please help me, please save me, just like you did before. 

I know I’m asking the impossible - I know I’m asking for more than I’m worth but please. 

Wilbur gave him a long look, brown eyes soft with concern. “Tubbo… I know when you’re not okay. You don’t - please don’t ever feel you have to lie to me.”

I don’t want to - I don’t want to - he’s making me, please, please make it stop -  

I want to be safe again. 

“I - I’m fine,” Tubbo said, doing his best to stamp down his nervous stammer. 

Wilbur shook his head. “Kid… I know you’re not fine. You - you’re scared.”

Tubbo’s heart dropped into his feet. “I - I - I’m n-not scared -”

Wilbur reached out and took one of Tubbo’s hands in his, squeezing it gently. “Tubbo. Listen to me.” He caught Tubbo’s eye and held his gaze, firm and unwaveringly kind. Tubbo wanted to melt into him right then and there. “Tubbo I - I helped you before, right?”

Tubbo nodded. He had. He knew that. He would never stop being grateful to Wilbur for putting his fears to rest at last. 

“But I could only do that because you trusted me,” Wilbur continued. “And I am so glad and so proud that you trusted me enough to tell me what happened.” He swallowed, throat bobbing. “So now I’m asking you to trust me again. I promise you Tubbo, I will fix it, whatever it is.”

Oh, Prime. 

Wilbur was right - of course he was. He - he - 

Tubbo swallowed. “I - I -”

He choked on the words. I can’t, I can’t, I can’t - 

Wilbur will protect me.

Right?

Tubbo had never really had many adults he could trust. He trusted Phil, he guessed - he was Tommy’s dad and Tommy loved him and Phil had never done anything to hurt him. He trusted Techno - he admired Techno. He could hardly believe that the older man had nightmares - he seemed so strong. It was… it was kinda nice to have someone so amazing on his side. 

And he trusted Wilbur. Wilbur was - was so smart and so kind and he made time for Tubbo - he cared for him. Wilbur was yet to break a promise to him - Wilbur was yet to make Tubbo feel small. He was yet to let him down. 

Prime, Tubbo wanted to believe he never would.

Every instinct told him the opposite, screamed at him to keep his vulnerabilities to himself, to deal with the problem - the threat hanging over his head, the dangling whip - by himself. 

But he wanted to trust Wilbur so f*cking badly. 

“Q-Q-Q-Quackity…”” he whispered shakily. Oh Prime, what am I doing?! What am I doing?! 

“Tubbo breathe, breathe, kid,” Wilbur ordered firmly, but not unkindly. “There we go… in and out, that’s right.”

“I - I - I c-c-can’t - I shouldn’t - I c-can’t -” Tubbo gasped out. What am I doing?!

What if he - what if - 

The scars on his back were burning. Tubbo knew it wasn’t the cold. 

“Tubbo…”

Tubbo pulled his hand away from Wilbur’s, rocketing up from the bench and backing away. “I - I - I - I have to go -”

Wilbur’s eyes were wide with worry. He reached out a hand. “Tubbo… kid -”

“P-p-please - forget I said anything,” Tubbo stammered. “P-p-please - please d-don’t -”

“Tubbo, let me help -”

Tubbo shook his head desperately. “You - you c-can’t. Please - please just f-forget about it.” 

He didn’t wait to hear Wilbur’s response, turning around and racing up the garden path, back towards the palace, chest heaving. 

What have I done?!

There was only one thing he had to cling to. 

Wilbur hasn’t broken a promise yet. He - he said he would never hurt me. He - he said he’d fix this. 

Prime… 

I really hope he was telling the truth. 

–o0o–

Wilbur couldn’t sleep. 

To be fair, that might be because he hadn’t changed into his nightclothes and was standing on his balcony in the cold night air, watching his breath freeze in front of him every time he exhaled. It was almost midnight and yet his mind was still spinning, trying to make sense of - of everything. 

The letters never arrived. 

Tommy is spending time with Quackity. 

Tubbo is afraid of Quackity.

He hoped he wasn’t jumping to conclusions - Tubbo had never finished his sentence, after all. It was possible the boy had been about to say ‘Quackity gave me a hug and told me not to worry’ before he cut himself off. 

Wilbur suspected that was probably not the case. 

So then what happened? 

He - he could understand why Tommy might gravitate to Quackity. He could try to understand at least, although he’d presumed when he’d left the palace, that the prince would fill most of his days talking to his dad, going riding with Techno, exploring the catacombs with Tubbo. Not drinking hot chocolates with Quackity . 

But why would Tubbo be afraid of Quackity? 

Wilbur was afraid of Quackity. For good reason. The thought that Tubbo could be in an even slightly similar situation… 

It was killing him. If Quackity had even looked at the servant wrong Wilbur would - he would - 

Wilbur swallowed. He didn’t… he wasn’t really sure what he would do, he just knew he would do everything in his power to keep Tubbo safe, use every connection he had, cash in every favour he was owed, take on any debt. He would risk his position in the palace for the kid. 

He would be fine. He could - he could find a way to be fine. Tubbo… 

Wilbur clenched his fists. 

He would do anything for his pupils. He - he valued them more than he valued staying, in the only place that felt like home. He was a teacher, they were the whole reason for him being at the palace at all. Their happiness was worth every risk, any danger. 

Wilbur exhaled slowly, breath crystallizing in the air along with his plan, mind made up. 

Tommy and Tubbo deserved to be happy. Something was wrong, something had thrown a stick into the spokes, something was at the root of this, the end of the string Wilbur needed to find in order to unravel this whole f*cking mess. 

And he would find it. By any means necessary. 

–o0o–

Wilbur opened the door to Quackity’s study and slipped inside, stuffing his improvised lock pick - a cake skewer he’d swiped from the kitchens on his way over - into his pocket. He was incredibly lucky that no one had come by while he’d been jiggling it around inside of the keyhole - lockpicking, it seemed was not as easy as some authors made it sound. 

Prime, I can’t believe I’m doing this. 

He shivered at his own audacity as he looked around the room. It seemed like an ordinary study - a bookshelf against the wall, large curtains framing the window, a fireplace already set, ready for the next day.

And, of course, a large mahogany desk in the centre of the room. 

Wilbur padded over to it, peering down at the papers set neatly in the centre of the desk. ‘Plans and Proposals for Improved Security.’ 

Quackity must be helping Phil and Techno out too. 

Wilbur pushed aside the large leather chair, feeling far too tense to even think about sitting in Quackity’s seat, and picked up the papers, leafing through them slowly. Most of it was far too technical for him to really understand on a first read - and it was hardly interesting enough to warrant another read-through. No offence to Phil and Techno. 

The annotations, written in blue ink by a hand Wilbur didn’t recognise, did catch his eye however. Most of them simply circled or underlines certain sections, writing ‘too simple’ in the margins. Occasionally they pointed out some flaw in the plan, a weakness in the airtight net Techno and Phil were apparently trying to weave. Once it even had a few dates written down and the words ‘bring up assassinations for bedroom security?’ 

This was, presumably, Quackity’s handwriting. Wilbur had to admit the lord did seem to be intent on helping, and the lord’s penmanship was remarkably goo-

Not a teacher right now Wilbur. Focus. 

He placed the papers back down carefully, turning his attention to the rest of the desk, opening and closing the drawers. 

Just… normal objects. Spare jars of ink, a few blank notebooks, extra quills and a small knife to sharpen them with. A few random paperweights. A daily planner. An hour glass. A - a… locked box?

Quite a large locked box. Wooden and sitting in the bottom drawer, a padlock over the clasp.

Wilbur grabbed a paperweight, turning the lock on its side and pulling up the shackle with one hand while he tapped the paperweight against the metal as quietly as he could. 

To his surprise, the lock popped open fairly quickly. I guess not all authors are liars. 

He put both the paperweight and lock aside and opened the box. 

It was full of papers. Wilbur reached out and picked up the file on top, flipping it open. 

'Registry of the Antarctic Empire Army
Private Technoblade Bedrock
18 years of age
Service no. 194830
22nd Eastern Battalion’

Wilbur almost dropped the file in surprise. Techno?

He flipped through the pages. It was all about Techno. 

‘Physical exam and basic training.
Height: 190cm
Weight: 64kg
Horsemanship: Excellent
Marksmanship: Excellent
Swordsmanship: Excellent’

‘Deployed along with battalion.’

‘Injury report.
Sword wound on upper right arm. Bandaged at medical tent, on rest for two days.’

‘Leave requested, pending approval. Expressed desire to visit parents’

‘Missing following loss in the eastern provinces. Location unknown. Status unknown.’

‘Private Bedrock is now presumed dead, it having been one year since his disappearance.’

‘Private Bedrock found alive. Conscious but unresponsive, though did accept a woolen blanket upon offer. Still shivering. Transport and transfer home in progress.’

‘Injury report.
Upon returning to base Private Bedrock appears to have suffered a significant number of injuries. Scar on cheek, healed badly but will fade. Two broken ribs on left side, heavy bruising. Pinprick scars (from fork?) on left thumb -’

Wilbur slammed the file closed, heart thumping. He - he didn’t want to read about that. That was Techno’s story, not his. Techno wouldn’t want him to read it. 

Techno wouldn’t want Quackity to be reading it. 

The feeling of discomfort sat heavy in Wilbur’s chest as he set aside the file, looking back inside the box. 

It was full of envelopes, set into neat stacks. 

Wilbur picked one up to inspect it more closely

Only to drop it immediately in shock. 

That - that was his handwriting. 

“His Highness, Crown Prince of the Antarctic Empire,
Marmoris Palace,
Comulus Gloria”

Wilbur picked the letter back up with shaking hands, turning it over to find the seal had already been broken. 

Quackity had read his letters. 

He grabbed another envelope, then another. 

Quackity had read all of his letters. 

They were all right here . 

He pulled one of the letters out of the envelope, scanning it in disbelief. 

‘ Dear Tommy, 

Karl’s Library is further north than I’m used to. I came into my study this morning to find winter had arrived - and announced its presence by breaking the windowpane and creating a pile of icy hailstones under the windowsill.I tried to tell Karl not to worry about it, but he insisted on moving me upstairs, to the floor with the senior professors… it’s quite an honour, but I’m not sure I feel ready for it!

One of them did teach me a good trick for making hot chocolate over the fireplace though. Maybe I’ll teach it to you when I get back! You always preferred it to tea.

I look forward to your next letter - the palace mail service is slower than usual I think - probably thanks to the cold weather - but I hope it’ll arrive soon.

Your favourite teacher, 
Wilbur Soot’

There was a note in the margin. ‘Prefers hot chocolate to tea - drink hot chocolates together’.

No. No. 

Wilbur gasped, grabbing another letter, scanning through it. More notes. 

‘Gardens and library good places - vulnerable? Association?’

‘Tubbo relies on him too."

‘Calls him Tommy.’

‘Used to help him pick out books.’

‘Prince struggles to take breaks? - Wilbur reminds him.’

‘Laugh together.’

‘Apologises a lot.’

‘Praises him… ‘good person’ and ‘good kid’, etc’ 

‘Calls him ‘Toms’ only sometimes - affectionate nickname.’

Wilbur felt sick. He felt - he felt awful, as though Quackity had cut him open and peered into his mind. Into his relationships, Prime… 

That feeling only grew worse when he reached the next set of letters. 

They were from Tommy. 

Prime, Wilbur could have sobbed. 

He read every single one, tears forming in his eyes as he watched his pupil start to think his teacher had forgotten all about him - as bright, happy, brilliant Tommy broke down, begging him to just write back, ‘please please write back, I’m sorry - you don’t even have to come back to the palace if you’re happier there, I’m happy for you, I promise, just please -’

And all the while Quackity’s handwriting was in the margins, coldly analysing every word Tommy wrote. ‘Doesn’t like being alone’. ‘Scared of everyone leaving him…’. ‘’Scared of Wilbur forgetting him’. 

There were other letters too, from Phil and Techno, even one or two from Tubbo. Two months worth of missing letters. 

Wilbur really was crying now, silent tears sliding down his face, dripping onto the parchment as he read each letter. They - they didn’t forget. They didn’t forget. I didn’t do anything. They - they wanted me to come back. They never forgot. 

The final letter in the box was scrolled up into a ball… as though the author had abandoned it before it was ever sent. Wilbur smoothed it out carefully. 

‘Dear Wilbur,

I don’t even know if you’re reading these any more. Maybe you aren’t… maybe you throw them away without ever opening them. Maybe you throw them away afterwards. I don’t know. 

I hope you’re reading them, because I want need to tell you how sorry I am… I don’t know what I did but I’m so so sorry Wilbur, I swear. I know it’s me - it’s my fault. It has to be me. Because you promised and you never break promises - you said you wouldn’t forget me. 

So if you’re reading this please respond. Please come home.

I mess things up. I know that. Techno and Phil are so busy now they barely talk to me… and I don’t know where Tubbo is, but he’s not talking to me either and I don’t know what to do. 

Please Wilbur. I really need you. 

Please don’t leave me too. Please respond. Please.

I don’t know how much longer I can believe you care if you don’t.

Love,
Tommy’

At the bottom of the page, in Quackity’s blue ink, lay just two words. 

‘At last’

Understanding slammed into Wilbur so hard he gasped . 

Quackity did this. 

He did it on purpose. It’s - it was all orchestrated.

The security measures are to keep Phil and Techno away from Tommy. 

He - he’s done something to Tubbo, forced him to stay away. 

And he took my letters. He cut off contact. 

He isolated Tommy. Tommy.

Wilbur balled his fists as he got to his feet and began pacing up and down Quackity’s study, putting the pieces together. 

He - he was trying to control Tommy - trying to get close to him, to use him. He cut off his support, the people that were healthy and left him with no one else to turn to. 

He used everyone. 

Techno and Phil have been killing themselves working over this - Techno sounded so… uncertain in his letters, Phil sounded exhausted, Tubbo is scared - and it’s all a trick. Just to hurt Tommy. To use him.

Tommy was the last person that should be left alone - the last person that should ever be made to think no one cared about him. It was the kid’s worst nightmare - Wilbur knew only too well how much Tommy needed to be loved to thrive - to survive. To rip all of the prince’s fragile security away for the sake of pure selfishness…

It made Wilbur sick. 

He’s not getting away with this, he thought fiercely. He’s not, he can’t. I won’t allow it. 

He pushed himself onto Quackity’s deck, shoving aside papers to sit atop it, facing the door, arms folded across his body. 

For once, Wilbur was the predator, not the prey. This time he was the one waiting - waiting for Quackity to come to him, waiting to ambush the lord with everything he had discovered.

Prime knew he wasn’t going to be sleeping tonight. 

–o0o–

The door opened and Wilbur was met with the sight of Quackity stopping dead in his tracks in the doorway. “Wilbur?!”

“Quackity,” Wilbur spat, hopping off of the desk. “Good morning to you too.”

“What are you - get out of my study!” the lord demanded, rushing inside. “What the f*ck are you doing in here?!”

It was probably the first time Wilbur had ever seen the lord thrown off-balance. 

It felt good. 

“What am I doing?! What are you doing?” Wilbur shot back. 

Quackity stared at him. “Wh-what am I doing - it’s my f*cking study -”

“Not in the study. What are you doing to Tommy? To Tubbo and Techno and - and Phil?”

Something like realization began to dawn on Quackity’s expression and his eyes widened. “You - you broke into my office.”

“Yes I did,” Wilbur snapped. “And I found these.” 

He pulled out the box, indicating his evidence wildly. “You - you f*cking stole our letters?! You analysed them - trying to, what?! Impersonate me?! You - you f*cking creep?!”

Quackity’s expression was hard to read, shock and fury competing for space on his face. “You - I - I would - why would I do that?!”

“I don’t know, Quackity, why would you? Trust me, I’m the furthest there is from understanding why you would - why you would do that. What gain is worth Tommy’s happiness?!” 

“I… I -”

“That’s what I f*cking thought,” Wilbur spat furiously. “So I’ll tell you what’s going to happen now.” He grabbed a few of the letters, holding them up. “I’m taking these to Phil. And he’s going to believe me and between us - all five of us - we’re going to fix this f*cking mess you’ve created.” He glared at Quackity. “And if you think Phil is going to be merciful after you went out of your way to hurt his son … think again.”

For the first time Wilbur thought he saw a glint of fear in Quackity’s eyes as he looked at him. “You wouldn’t.”

“I would and I will,” Wilbur hissed. “No-one hurts my pupil - my pupils. No-one.”

And with that he began to stride out of the room, pushing his way past the lord as he made his way to the door. 

Only for a pair of hands to land on his shoulders and send him sprawling to the ground. 

Wilbur cried out in pain as he hit the floorboards, twisting around to see Quackity looming over him, seething with rage, face dark with fury. 

Wilbur’s courage wilted, words sticking in his throat. Oh Prime - oh Prime - 

Not again, no no no no, not again - 

“I think f*cking not,” Quackity growled. “You are not f*cking up my plans again Wilbur Soot.”

Wilbur swallowed. “I - I - I - I am not letting you hurt Tommy any more.” Come on. Pull it together, you’re - you’re not there and - and he needs you. Tommy needs you. Tubbo needs you. Techno and Phil need you. You know how to take a hit, so pull it together. You’re not afraid of him.

He attempted to push himself up only for a kick to send him crashing back to the ground. He yelped as his body hit the floor once more. “Qu-Quackity s-stop!”

Quackity laughed. “And let you walk out of here and ruin my reputation? Ruin everything?! I don’t think so.”

“You’re - you’re not going to kill me,” Wilbur challenged, pushing himself up on his elbows to meet Quackity’s gaze, even though the disgust burning there made him want to curl away and hide. “You - you’re not.”

“I’m not,” Quackity agreed. “But I have other ways of keeping you quiet.”

“Th-th-threatening me isn’t going to change my mind,” Wilbur said resolutely. “I - I won’t let you hurt him - any of them.”

Quackity laughed, humourless and cruel. “Oh Wilbur. You’re not going to have any say in the matter.”

Wilbur tried to push himself up further, only for a boot to land on his chest, keeping him pressed to the floor, vulnerable. 

He pushed down the panic. You can take it. You can survive it and get out of here and find Phil and Quackity will never bother anyone again. 

Quackity smirked down at him. “Let me tell you how this is going to go, shall I Wilbur?” 

Wilbur said nothing. He wondered if Quackity could feel how fast his heart was beating through the thick leather of his shoe. 

“You’ve… already met a few of the guards outside,” Quackity said cuttingly. “They’re going to take you to the dungeons. And I will never have to deal with your f*cking interference ever again you common piece of sh*t.”

Wilbur’s chest was heaving, even as he shook his head. “N-no - they’ll notice. They will - they’ll notice I’m gone -”

“Will they?” Quackity laughed. “I doubt Techno and Phil will. I have my ways of keeping them entertained.”

“My - my p-pupils -”

“The prince and his poor, fragile servant?” Quacity rolled his eyes. “I’m sure they’ll notice. I’m sure Tubbo will be… hurt to know the teacher he thought he could trust is gone. And as for Prince Thomas...”

His grin grew wider. “It might break him. Who knows? Personally I don’t think he cares about you one way or another ”

No. no. 

Wilbur shoved Quackity’s foot aside and rolled over, scrambling to get up before Quackity regained his balance. He can’t - he can’t do that, he can’t - it - 

It might break them. 

It might break me. 

He managed to get to his feet and dashed for the door, mind empty of everything aside from getting out of there - 

A hand seized his collar and wrenched him backwards, slamming him into the ground, knocking the wind out of his lungs and causing his skull to ring. A boot came down on his wrist, pinning him to the floor and Wilbur choked on a scream he didn’t have the air to voice. 

“Guards!” Quackity shouted. “Quickly!”

Wilbur could hardly breathe, let alone fight as the door flew open and heavy footsteps approached; as he was hauled roughly to his feet, arms pinned behind his back. 

No - no, Prime, no, please, this can’t - this can’t happen - I have to - I have to stop him -

He struggled weakly against the hold. 

Everything he did was weak. 

He wasn’t strong enough to stop this. 

Quackity laughed. “Not so f*cking heroic now, are we Wilbur?”

Wilbur tried his best to hold his head up, but it hurt - it hurt so f*cking badly - 

Quackity smirked and reached out. Wilbur flinched back on pure instinct. It made no difference of course. Quackity’s hands still reached his face and - 

And pulled his glasses off. 

Wilbur was blind. Blind and restrained and - and - 

Quackity turned the glasses over in his hands. “I’ve always wanted to do this.”

In one swift movement he broke them in two, dropping the pieces at Wilbur’s feet, clinking as they hit the floor. Wilbur made a choked noise - he’d had those glasses all his life - he’d protected them all his life, through everything - and Quackity had destroyed them so easily. Like they meant nothing.

Quackity tutted. “Don’t make a fuss . Where you’re going you won’t be needing those anyway.”

Wilbur couldn’t see. He - he couldn’t see anything beyond the fuzzy shapes that made up the room, the guards - Quackity. He - he was helpless. “Qu-Quackity -”

“Oh Wilbur,” Quackity said. He sounded almost disappointed. “And for a moment there I thought you’d finally learned your place.”

Wilbur wished he had just punched him instead. It would have hurt less. 

“Get him out of my sight. Don’t be seen.”

And that command was all it took for Wilbur to be dragged away into darkness. Away from everyone he loved, everyone that mattered. 

Everyone that Quackity was hurting. 

And there was nothing he could do to stop it. 

He couldn’t fight, he couldn’t run, he couldn’t form the words to convince the guards to let him go, please please let him go. 

He couldn’t even see where they were taking him. 

Because Wilbur - Wilbur was weak. He - he wasn’t a hero, he never had been, he - he wasn’t the sort of person that fixed problems. He was just… f*cking useless. He couldn’t stop Quackity. He was a fool for ever thinking he could. For forgetting the lesson the lord had drilled into him, 

Quackity always won.

Chapter Text

There was a gaping wound where his chest should be.

Wilbur leaned his head against the wall, trying to ignore the throbbing pain that seemed to have spread through every part of him, dragging him into the stone floor. 

He was so tired. 

He knew he must look like a f*cking wreck by now, clothing dirty and crushed from sleeping on the cell floor. Not that he’d know without his glasses. Not that there was a mirror down here to look into even if he could see. 

Small mercies I suppose. 

He was pretty sure he’d been trapped in the dungeon for four or five days at this point - it was hard to tell when there was no sun rising and setting to signal that time was still passing at all. 

Two years like this. Prime, poor Techno…

The wound in his chest burned as he thought of his friend. Has he noticed I’m missing?

He wasn’t sure which he’d prefer. He didn’t want Techno to be upset… but he really didn’t like the thought of fading out of his memory either. He didn’t want to be the person that disappeared, the person that no one remembered disappearing. 

But he didn’t want to be the reason someone cried.

If Techno would cry for him, that was.

Wilbur had done his share of crying already - when he was first tossed onto the unforgiving stone floor, when the door slammed shut behind him. When reality set in. Wilbur had cried. He had begged the retreating guards to let him go, please - p-please this is too i-important you can’t - you can’t -

But they had. 

And now Wilbur was - he was… f*cking trapped. 

He was completely, totally, at Quackity’s mercy. The lord decided whether he lived or died, whether he drank that day, whether he ate. 

So far, Quackity’s verdict appeared to be a resounding no. 

And there wasn’t anything Wilbur could do about it. Just like he couldn’t do anything to stop the lord from poisoning Tommy’s mind, from hurting him, from manipulating him like so many others had done. He couldn’t fix the mess that was the palace. He couldn’t tell Techno and Phil to stop working, to take a break, to give Tommy some attention. He couldn’t soothe Tubbo’s fears.

He was f*cking useless. 

Footsteps approached his cell and Wilbur lifted his head. “H-hello?” he said hesitantly, straining his eyes as though that would somehow make them work when they never had before. 

A familiar faceless shape came into view and Wilbur felt himself shrink into the stone, as though it could hide him from the person before him. 

“Hello Wilbur.”

Wilbut shivered and he hated it. He hated how the lord could make him feel small in just a few words - he hated that he was so f*cking scared of him. 

But he was. 

“How are we doing in there?”

Wilbur glared at the Quackity-shaped blob, but he couldn’t summon any heat behind it. “L-let me out.”

Quackity chuckled. “You’ve said that every time Wilbur. My answer is never going to change.”

“I - I’ll leave,” Wilbur pleaded, wrist pulsing with pain as he moved, shifting onto his knees. “Please, I - I’ll leave and you’ll never have to see me again, I swear -”

Quackity threw back his head and laughed, loud and cruel. “Oh come on, Wilbur. Like you wouldn’t go scurrying straight the the king the moment I let you out of my sight.”

“I - I w-wouldn’t -” Wilbur protested feebly. They both knew better.  

“You would,” Quackity declared. He lowered his voice. “You see you’re forgetting something Wilbur. I know you.”

“Y-you don’t know anything about me,” Wilbur whispered, wrapping his arms around his torso. 

“Don’t I?” Quackity stepped closer to the barred wall. “I know that you thought you were going to save Tommy - that you were going to be a f*cking… hero or some sh*t and wash away all the damage. That you were going to fix sh*t.”

Wilbur knew he wasn’t a hero. He figured that, deep down, he’d always known that. 

But he didn’t care. He didn’t want to be a hero anymore, that was just a childish fantasy. Now… he just wanted to help. With whatever problem was placed before him, whoever needed his support.

He’d just never expected to get mixed up in all… this. A lord’s power play.

Wilbur shook his head, shuffling forwards and gripping a bar with his good hand. “P-please Quackity - please leave them alone -”

“No,” Quackity said bluntly. “I need them.”

“Please,” Wilbur begged. “Please. Why - why can’t you just -”

“Shut up, Prime you’re annoying,” Quackity interrupted. “F*ck’s sake Wilbur, can’t you see when you’re f*cking beaten?!”

Wilbur’s heart raced. “Not - not as long as m-my pupils are in danger.”

“Shut the f*ck up!” Quackity exploded.

Wilbur flinched despite himself. 

“You - you think you’re so f*cking great Wilbur, you don’t see what I see - what the rest of the world sees,” Quackity hissed. “A worthless boy pretending to be worthwhile.”

Wilbur shook his head, even as his courage wilted. “Please Quackity - please, don’t hurt them -”  

“Look at you. You’re so f*cking weak Wilbur.”

“F-for c-caring about the people I love?” Wilbur said quietly. 

“What use is your care?” Quackity snorted. “You’re too weak to protect any of them.”

He might as well have drawn a dagger and stabbed Wilbur in the chest. 

Tears sprang to his eyes and he couldn’t force them away. “That’s not - that’s not -”

He heard, rather than saw, the smirk in Quackity’s voice. “Look at you Wilbur. Pathetic.”

Wilbur couldn’t find it in himself to disagree. “Qu… S-S- Sir . Please.”

“Aw, look. You finally learned your place,” Quackity said softly. “Pity that’s it’s too little too late.”

Wilbur looked down at the floor, humiliation seeping into every pore. 

Which of course meant he was blindsided when Quackity kicked the hand still holding the bars, agony shooting through his fingers. He cried out in pain, snatching them back to his chest, tears escaping down his cheeks unbidden. 

Quackity watched him try - and fail - to pull himself together where he knelt on the floor for a long moment before chuckling and shaking his head. “You really are pathetic, huh?”

Wilbur curled in on himself. Just go away. Please go away. 

Why won’t this nightmare just end? 

I want to skip this chapter. I want this to be over. 

“You finally look like the peasant you are,” Quackity laughed. “Dirty and kneeling . I should have done this long ago.”

Another set of footsteps approached - a guard’s, from the sound alone… their boots sounded like Techno’s. 

The wound in Wilbur’s chest burned again. 

“Sir? You’re needed upstairs.”

“On my way,” Quackity replied. “I’ll see you later Wilbur.”

Wilbur nodded miserably, unable to bring himself to look up. What else could he do? It wasn’t as though there was anything he could do about it. He was stuck. 

He was so f*cking stuck. 

He heard Quackity leave with the corrupt guard, leaving him alone in his cell.

Alone with his thoughts. 

Somehow that felt like the cruellest thing the lord had done to him yet.

–o0o–

Wilbur is gone. 

The whole palace felt his absence. It wasn’t like before - when he left for the Library. Then, everyone knew where he was, and they knew he was coming back. 

Now he was just… missing. Gone without a trace.

Tommy didn’t know how to feel. 

He - he hated Wilbur. Wilbur had - had manipulated him, had used him to get closer to the king and Tommy hated him. He - he…

He just didn’t think Wilbur would leave . 

“Just - just be glad you still have a j-job.”

He - he didn’t mean - he never meant - 

Dad and Techno were worried. They’d actually stopped working on their security project and had started writing letters to everyone they could think of. Techno was constantly ready to leap onto a horse and ride to wherever Wilbur was, to bring him back home, the moment they got a reply from him. 

Tommy didn’t know how to tell them that Wilbur didn’t reply to letters. 

Well. Maybe he did. He just didn’t reply to ones from Tommy . 

And Tommy couldn’t blame him. What kind of person was he? He’d driven Wilbur away. Wilbur, who was kind and gentle and soft… everyone loved Wilbur. 

Even Tommy. He couldn’t help it. He was - he was angry and hurt and he… he…

He still loved Wilbur. 

Wilbur had said he’d never leave. Not by choice. Not unless he was forced to.

Had Tommy forced him to?

Prime, he really was the f*cking worst, wasn’t he?

Wilbur got sick of you. 

You’ve ruined everything. The way you always do.

“Just be glad you still have a job.”

I didn’t think he would leave me. 

But I deserve it. 

–o0o–

Tubbo padded through the dungeons. 

The dungeons were an oddly peaceful part of the palace. They weren’t in use any more, they had actual prisons nowadays, which meant no one ever came down here. It was quiet and, once you got past the slightly ominous atmosphere of the place, it was one of the few private places in a palace that hummed with activity from dawn to dusk. 

Tubbo had used it as a place to cry. Before. After that night in the library he had thought he’d never need to use it again. 

He’d been wrong. 

He wasn’t planning on crying today though. 

Although he did feel like it. Just a little

Maybe a lot.

Wilbur was gone . 

Tubbo was f*cking terrified. 

Wilbur was safety. He was gentleness and warmth and reassurance and he was everything that Tubbo didn’t have right now. Tubbo was barely holding on as it was, avoiding Tommy every waking moment, trying to stifle sobs as he was tormented by flashbacks at night. 

He was scared of the palace without Wilbur now. With Quackity roaming the halls it was no longer a safe space - it was a spiderweb with him at the centre, fearfully trying to escape the predator that promised nothing but pain. Without Wilbur the palace was almost as frightening as it had been when he’d first arrived, a shaking servant with still-healing wounds. 

Tubbo was desperate not to add to those scars. 

Something shifted in the cell beside him and Tubbo practically jumped out of his skin. “Ah!”

The something pressed into the stone. 

That - it can’t be a person, can it?

Tubbo peered at it, squinting against the gloom. “Uh - hello?”

The some one seemed to shrink. “G-go away . Please .”

Tubbo started. 

He knew that voice. 

He had never head it sound like that before.

“W-Wilbur?”

The someone - Wilbur, how the - what the f*ck - lifted his head. “T-T-Tubbo?” he breathed hesitantly. 

Tubbo scrambled over, dropping to his knees outside of the cell, clutching at the bars with both hands as he took in the sight of his teacher, dirty and dishevelled and - and Prime, what had happened to his wrist? -

Wilbur’s eyes were wide and Tubbo realised with a jolt that he wasn’t wearing his glasses. He had never seen Wilbur without his glasses before. He looked… incomplete somehow. Vulnerable. 

Tubbo really, really didn’t like this. He - he - Wilbur - Wilbur is -

“T-Tubbo?!” Wilbur gasped. “What - what are you doing down here?!”

“I - I was - I’m - I don’t - I’m s-sorry,” Tubbo stammered, mind spinning. 

Wilbur reached through the bars with his not-quite-as-f*cked hand, seizing Tubbo’s hand, holding it tightly but not harshly. “Prime, no - not - don’t apologise kid, you’re okay, I just - are you - why - is everything alright?” 

Tubbo almost wanted to laugh. He’s in a cell and he’s asking if I’m alright? “Why are - W-Wilbur, why are you -”

“Qu-Quackity,” Wilbur said bitterly. 

Tubbo felt his heartrate pick up at the mention of the lord’s name. Prime, f*ck, sh*t - Quackity…

Quackity did this. 

Quackity did this. 

Quackity did this. 

Tubbo had never been a particularly brave person. He - he was f*cking scared of so many things. He was scared of whips and locked doors and knees hitting the ground. He was scared of sudden noises and angry masters and loud voices. He was scared of falling asleep and he was scared of waking up to everything being different. Everything being a dream. 

Tubbo was…

He was so sick of being scared. 

He pulled his hands away from Wilbur’s, taking a deep breath, letting the determination settle over him. 

“I’m - I’m g-going to get help,” he explained quickly. “I - i w-won’t be long.”

Wilbur’s lips parted. “You - Tubbo… don’t put yourself in danger -”

Tubbo lifted his chin. “I - I get to m-make my own ch-choices, right?”

A small smile graced Wilbur’s face. “Y-yeah."

“I’m getting you help,” Tubbo said resolutely. “I’ll be right back.”

Wilbur nodded, and Prime he was so pale . “Th-thank you.”

Tubbo got to his feet and started running, sprinting through the hallways. Last he’d heard, Tommy was with the king, and while King Philza seemed nice and Tubbo was trying his absolute hardest to be brave right now… he wasn’t brave enough for him yet. 

So instead he raced towards the palace stables, bursting through the doors and making Techno whirl around in surprise. “Tubbo?”

“I - I n-need your help -” Tubbo gasped out. 

Techno shot to his feet. “What is it? What’s wrong? Are you alright?”

“Not - not me,” Tubbo explained rapidly. 

“Then what -”

“It’s Wilbur.”

Techno’s eyes widened. 

–o0o–

Techno hurried after Tubbo. The kid had somehow found Wilbur, and from the panicked look in his eyes, what he’d found hadn’t been… good. 

That bad feeling was confirmed when Tubbo led him into the dungeons. 

Techno did not like the palace dungeons. He’d been given a skeleton key for all the cells by Captain Puffy when he first arrived - “purely as a matter of protocol, we don’t expect you to actually have to use them” - but he’d never ventured down there to test it. The bars and stone and the chill in the air - the total absence of sunlight - it all dragged up memories that Techno would rather forget. 

But for Wilbur? 

He didn’t hesitate, plunging into the gloom with Tubbo, heart racing. Surely - surely not - he can’t be… there’s no way -

But he was. 

Techno stared at Wilbur, frozen. It was like looking in a mirror to the past, to how Techno had looked three years ago… or at least, how he imagined he had looked. 

Wilbur was pale, face drawn, clothing creased and streaked with grime. The fingers of one hand were red and bruised, the wrist of the other hand looked f*cking broken, and his glasses - the ones he always wore, the ones Techno had tried on once and laughed about how strong they were - were gone. Wilbur looked so different without glasses… he looked younger. As the teacher squinted up at him, Techno was painfully reminded that Wilbur was younger than him, if only by a year or so. In this moment it might as well have been a thousand. 

“T-Techno?” Wilbur said hesitantly. Prime, he even sounded younger - Techno had never heard the tutor sound so unsure of himself before. “Is - is that you?”

“Y-yeah,” Techno choked out, hands plunging into his pockets as he fished around for his set of keys. “Hang - hang on Wil, I’m - I’m gonna get you out of there.”

Wilbur smiled weakly. “Thank you.”

Techno pulled out his keyring triumphantly and began sorting through the keys, trying one after another in the lock. “What - what happened to you?! Why are you - why are you here, what - where are your glasses-?”

“Qu-Quackity,” Wilbur shrugged, looking away. 

Techno blinked, staring at him. “You mean - Lord Quackity? The - the noble?!”

Wilbur seemed to shrink into himself. “I - I… y-yes…”

Techno felt a horrible pang of guilt. “No - not - I believe you Wil.”

Wilbur looked up at him and Prime, Wilbur had never looked that raw before. “You - you do?”

“Of course,” Techno said at once, as firmly as he could. “Of course I do.” 

I just… have a lot of questions.

A key finally clicked in the lock and Techno hauled the door open, stumbling inside and kneeling beside Wilbur, Tubbo on his tail. “Are you alright?”

“I will be,” Wilbur said gratefully, looking between them. “Thank you."

“Can you stand?”

Wilbur nodded resolutely. “Y-yeah. I can.”

Techno rose, offering a hand to help haul him up. Wilbur took it. He was worryingly light. 

Wilbur blinked blearily as he stood, swaying, before pitching forwards. Techno caught him. 

“S-s-sorry,” Wilbur whispered. “I - I can - I can stand -”

“I’ve got you,” Techno said firmly, leaving no room for argument, pulling Wilbur’s less-f*cked hand over his shoulder and wrapping his own arm around Wilbur’s waist. Like this he could feel Wilbur’s chest rise and fall, irregular, short breaths. 

It made Techno’s own chest tighten. He knew the early symptoms of starvation. They had been his life for two years. “When did you last eat?”

“Uh - h-how long have I been down here?” Wilbur asked.

“You’ve - you’ve been missing five days."

“Then… around five days? Maybe six, I didn’t eat the night before…”

Techno nodded. “O-okay. We’re - we’re gonna get you to your room and get you something to eat.” 

Wilbur slumped a little in his hold. “That - that sounds nice.”

They made their way out of the dungeons, matching Wilbur’s pace, Tubbo opening door ahead of them. Shockingly, they managed to avoid the usual hubbub of the palace, something Techno was deeply grateful for. He - he didn’t want anyone to see Wilbur like this. He hated seeing it himself. 

Of course, their luck had to run out eventually, and it did, in the worst way possible. 

Right there, in the main hallway, was Quackity himself. Wilbur inhaled sharply as Techno stopped in his tracks, Tubbo shrinking back as the lord approached them. “What is the meaning of this?”

“We’d all love to know the answer to that too,” Techno said shortly. “But for now, Wilbur is more important than - than whatever you f*cking did to him.”

“You - I - what?” Quackity spluttered. “I didn’t do anything!”

“Didn’t you?” Techno shot. “Then why does he look like this? Why was he in the dungeons?”

“How should I know? I had nothing to do with it!”

“Oh really?” Techno retorted. “Then why does he say you did?”

Quackity folded his arms. “You’re going to believe him over me?” 

Techno raised an eyebrow. “Uh - yeah?”

Quackity stared at him incredulously. “You - you can’t! You can’t do that, you - you’re an imperial guard! You work for the palace -”

“And so does he,” Techno snapped. “Kindly get out of the f*cking way.”

Quackity’s face darkened. “You can’t speak to me that way.”

He couldn’t. He really couldn’t, everything he’d had drilled into him about rank and protocol and manners was screaming at him to shut up - to treat the person above him with respect . Prime, he’d called Wilbur ‘ sir’ when they first met, protocol mattered!

The difference was, he would do that again. He would do that now. 

He wouldn’t for Quackity.

“I can,” Techno said shortly. “I’m taking Wilbur somewhere safe.”

“No you are not. That is final.”

“You do not give me orders -”

“I am your superior -”

“Then let’s get your superior.” Techno turned to Tubbo. “Tubbo. Please go and fetch Phil.”

Tubbo nodded quickly before shooting away, footsteps light against the marble floor. 

Techno turned back to Quackity, who was staring at him, shocked. “You want to do this the hard way? Fine.”

–o0o–

Wilbur leaned against Techno. He - he really didn’t like being in the presence of Quackity like this, but it was a little less frightening this way, sheltered by the taller, broader, stronger guard. To have Techno defend him against Quackity’s words was… nice. It was nice. To be protected. 

Tubbo darted back into the room, Phil hurrying behind him. And behind him - 

Tommy’s eyes widened as he saw him. “W-Wilbur?”

Phil took in the sight before him, blinking. “What - what is going on?’

Quackity stepped forwards. “They - this servant and the prince’s guard are accusing me of -”

Wilbur straightened up. “No. They’re not. I am.”

Quackity gaze landed on him, eyes shooting daggers. Wilbur took a few deep breaths - or, as deep as he could manage, resisting the urge to quail under the lord’s fury. “He - he locked me in a dungeon.”

Tommy gasped and Phil did a double take. “He - he what?”

Quackity scoffed. “It’s preposterous! Why would I do such a thing?!”

“Because - because I know the truth,” Wilbur said as forcefully as he could.

Phil frowned “The truth? What truth?”

Wilbur swallowed. “He - he stole my letters.” He heard Tommy make a wounded noise and his heart clenched. “To Tommy, to all of you. He intercepted them, and your replies to me - he - he stole them. And - and he used them. E-especially mine. To.. to get close to Tommy.”

He locked eyes with the prince as best he could and took a shaking step forward, out of Techno’s hold. “Tommy… I didn’t forget you. I wrote to you all that time, I swear to you. I - I promised. I would never hurt you like that Toms. Never. I’d - I’d rather die.”

He stepped a little closer, holding out his good hand entreatingly. “I’m - I’m so sorry about - about all of it. None of it was your fault, you didn’t do anything wrong. I promise. I could never forget you, r-remember?”

Tommy turned to Quackity, eyes wet with unshed tears. “You - you - you l-lied to me? You…”

Quackity ignored him, looking at Phil. “Even if that were true, what did I do wrong here? I befriended the prince? That’s not a crime,” he said simply, shrugging. 

Wilbur’s stomach dropped . Quackity didn’t even seem concerned - maybe locking people in dungeons was fair game in palace politics, maybe intercepted mail could be excused - or, more likely, burned to ashes by now, evidence destroyed. 

Maybe Wilbur was really making a fuss about nothing. He - he wasn’t used to the way the palace worked, even now, he was just an orphan from an outer province village, maybe he was just too uneducated to understand. Any moment now Phil was going to agree, going to brush off the two months of hell they had all been put through. It - it wasn’t as though Wilbur had any real proof of anything illegal - 

“He - he - he th-threatened me,” a small voice said nervously. 

Every eye in the room turned to Tubbo, who appeared to want to sink into the floor.

“What was that Tubbo?” Phil, Prime bless him, said softly. 

“I - he - I…” Tubbo stammered, trailing off as he focused on Quackity’s furious face.

Wilbur felt the presence behind him disappear as Techno made his way to Tubbo’s side, placing a reassuring hand on the servant’s shoulder, squeezing gently.

Tubbo swallowed and tried again. “He - he th-th-threatened m-me.” His voice was a whisper, but it seemed to echo through the room. He tore his eyes from Quackity’s, directing them at the two royals instead. “He - he ordered me n-not to t-talk to T-T-T-Tommy anymore. He… he said if - if - if I did he would - he w-would t-take me.”

Phil started. “I’m sorry, he would what?”

“Tubbo,” Quackity said warningly, and Prime, Wilbur did not like the tone he used. How dare he speak to my pupil that way?

Tubbo didn’t like it much either, judging by the way he pressed further into Techno, but he seemed determined to finish. “He - he w-would c-convince you to - to g-give me to him. A-and - and then he w-would… h-hurt m-me. ”

Horrified silence fell across the room. Wilbur felt sick. To threaten Tubbo like that - to threaten the boy who had struggled so hard to feel safe, who had every reason to suspect the palace and the people within were cruel - it was the evillest thing Wilbur could imagine. Prime - f*ck - no wonder he was so scared… anyone would be. Anyone who went through what he did would be.

Quackity’s eyes were wide as he stared at Phil. “You - you don’t believe that, r-right?”

Phil said nothing, looking between him and the rest of the room, eyes passing over Tubbo and Techno and finally landing on Wilbur. 

“Come - come on, you don’t - you can’t believe that -” Quackity scoffed. Phil didn’t even look at him.

Wilbur felt he’d gotten a pretty good handle on the king in his time at the palace. And he knew what he was asking, even through the blur in his vision, through the confusion that was still scattered all over this whole f*cking mess.

Is it true?

Wilbur lifted his chin 

And nodded. 

“Your Majesty. You can’t believe him over me,’ Quackity spluttered. Was it Wilbur’s imagination or was there some anger in his tone? “He’s a - he’s a servant - the tutor is a just a village boy -“

Phil turned to face the lord. 

“No,” Quackity said, and yes, there was rage there, barely-concealed beneath the surface. “You can’t - he can’t -“

Phils eyes flickered back to Wilbur before returning to Quackity, his jaw set. 

“Quackity…” Phil said slowly. “I am placing you under arrest,”

“For f*ck’s sake!” Quackity exploded. “You can’t do this - this isn’t - this isn’t how it was supposed to go!”

Phil remained impassive. “Be that as it may -”’

But Quackity wasn’t finished. “This is an outrage - you can’t do this to me! He’s - he’s a f*cking peasant!” he spat, whirling to face Wilbur. “You - you can’t ruin me for him! I didn’t do all this for - for him to f*cking wreck it, I didn’t do all this for nothing - I didn’t kill the f*cking Queen for THIS -”

Shocked silence fell across the room. 

Wilbur’s mind spun. Quackity - he - he -

And then the lord screamed. “YOU!”

Sharp and loud and guttural, a roar of pure fury , he screeched the word - the accusation - and launched himself across the room, something sharp and metallic glinting in his hand. 

Wilbur felt the impact. 

He felt searing pain explode across his chest. 

He heard cries of distress erupt around him. 

He felt himself hit the ground. 

And then the world went dark. 

–o0o–

When Wilbur opened his eyes, the world was blurry. 

He tried to sit up, to reach for his glasses, but a burning pain shot across his chest and he gasped, slumping back down. What the f*ck was that?

He was in his bedroom at the palace - that much he knew, familiar enough with this room to recognise it even without his glasses on. But why did his chest feel so tight - why did his fingers feel so heavy? 

So… constricted?

Wilbur gently put his hands together and his heart fluttered as he felt the rough-yet-still-soft material they were bound with. Bandages?

Wincing against the pain, he pushed himself up and brushed his fingertips over his chest. Bandages? But - but -

Suddenly it all came racing back to him. Quackity - my glasses, Tubbo, Techno - the dungeon, the letters - 

Oh Prime - 

He had to move. He had to get up, finish what he’d started - he had to help. Quackity needed - he had to face justice and Wilbur could help with that - he had to help with that. It was - Quackity was - his responsibility. His problem . 

He pushed himself upright, shoving down the whine of pain that threatened to escape him as he did so. He braced himself against the headboard, blinking against the dizziness that swelled in his head, not helped by the fact that his poor vision made it difficult to get his bearings. 

He swung his legs over the side of the bed and f*ck, that hurt.

If Wilbur had been thinking clearly, in ordinary circumstances, he might have stopped to put shoes on. And a shirt. But these weren’t ordinary circumstances, this was Quackity, a cruel… and homicidal, apparently - maniac. 

He pressed a hand against the wall and rose to his feet, a cry of pain escaping him as his chest screamed in protest. He ignored, it suppressing whimpers as he shuffled over to the door, relying on the wall for support until his hand found the door.

He was about to pull it open when it swung inwards. Wilbur yelped and stumbled backwards, the sudden movement sending pain rocketing through him once more, legs giving out beneath him. 

Wilbur squeezed his eyes shut and prepared to hit the floor. 

Instead, he was caught by strong hands, breaking his fall as they lowered him gently to the ground. “Wilbur?!”

Wilbur coughed - and f*ck, that hurt too, was everything just going to hurt now? “T-Techno?”

Techno was kneeling beside him, still cradling his upper body. “Wil - I - I’m glad you’re awake, but - what - why are you out of bed?!”

“Qu-Quackity,” Wilbur explained. “He - he stabbed me.”

“I know that you idiot, that’s why you’re meant to be in bed -”

“He - he needs… he stole letters,” Wilbur continued. “Phil - Phil needs to - I have to -”

“He already knows Wil,” Techno said gently. 

Wilbur shook his head. “No, not that, I need to - I have to help him - I have to help him make sure Quackity can’t - that he can’t -”

“No. You need to rest.”

“I have to help - this - I can help with this, he needs my help -”

“Wilbur - you were stabbed -”

“Phil - he might need me - I - I should be there -”

“Alright, that does it,” Techno muttered.

Then, in one fluid motion, he scooped Wilbur up, cradling him like a baby against his chest. 

“Techno!” Wilbur exclaimed. “Put me down!”

“No,” Techno said bluntly, carrying him across the room, back to the bed. “You are supposed to be resting Wilbur.”

He carefully lowered him onto the sheets. Something warmed in Wilbur’s heart at the care Techno put into the whole process, doing his best not to jostle any part of him. “You are going to stay here - even if I have to chain you to the bedpost to make sure of it.”

Wilbur had to chuckle at that, despite the way laughter made his chest sting. Satisfied, Techno slid his arms out from underneath him and busied himself with the covers, pulling them up and back over Wilbur’s body, tucking him in. “You need to rest.”

Wilbur had never been tucked in before. It felt nice. 

Still, he couldn’t help protesting. “But - but Quackity -”

Techno sat down on the edge of the bed. “Phil can handle it. We can handle it.”

Wilbur was sure that they could. He knew they could. 

He just didn’t want them to have to. Not when he could help, do it for them. “You - you don’t have to.”

“Yes we do,” Techno said firmly. “You can rest.”

“I… I should help…”

“Wil… we can deal with him,” Techno said softly. Wilbur had never heard him use that tone before… it reminded him a little of the way he spoke to a horse when it was particularly skittish. “You can rest now.”

Wilbur looked down at his lap - or, where his lap would be if it wasn’t for the blankets covering him. “I… I don’t… I haven’t done enough…”

He felt a gentle hand land on his shoulder. “You’ve done more than enough,” Techno said, voice still soft, but so unshakeably certain Wilbur had no choice but to agree with him. “You have done so much, Wil. We can handle it from here. You can let yourself rest.”

Wilbur glanced up, a small smile on his face. “O-okay. I can - I can try.”

Techno huffed affectionately. “Good.” He stood, walking over to the door. “Besides, I think there’s someone who wants to talk to you.”

He pulled the door open, doing a double take. “….And he’s already here, it seems.”

A blurr of blonde curls peered around the door. 

–o0o–

Techno left the room, leaving Tommy alone with Wilbur, heart in his throat.

His teacher looked so frail. Glasses gone, bandages across his chest and fingers, a splint on his wrist… he looked so hurt. Damaged.

And Tommy knew not all of that damage was physical. 

He stepped further into the room, hands clasped together awkwardly. “Uh - h-hi Mr - Professor -”

“That’s Wilbur to you, Toms,” Wilbur smiled softly. 

That - the gentleness, the care - that was what broke him.

He choked on a cry, dashing forwards and flinging himself towards Wilbur. “I’m sorry!”

Wilbur oomphed as Tommy landed on top of him, throwing his arms around Wilbur’s shoulders, sobbing into his neck. “I’m so sorry!”

I’m sorry for being so - being such a brat - I’m sorry for believing him, I’m sorry for not trusting you, I’m sorry for - for being so annoying and - 

“Tommy whoa, whoa,” Wilbur breathed, bandaged hands brushing down his back, and Tommy realised he had said all of that aloud. “Slow down kid.”

Wilbur’s kindness was not making Tommy feel better. “I’m - I’m sorry,” he hiccuped. “I’m so sorry Wilbur.”

Wilbur shifted and Tommy jumped back. “Sh*t - you - your wound - I’m sorry -”

Wilbur shook his head. “No, no, it’s okay, I’m fine,” he said gently. 

Tommy hung his head tearfully. Prime, I keep f*cking up - how many ways am I going to hurt him?

Bandaged fingers brushed his cheek and Tommy looked up. 

He was met with the sight of Wilbur looking at him, his expression so full of care that Tommy choked. 

“It’s - it’s okay Tommy,” his teacher said gently. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Tommy shook his head. “I - I - I was so mean to you,” he whispered shamefully. “I - I was awful - horrible -”

“You were hurting,” Wilbur said softly. “You thought I - I used you… he - Qu-Quackity - he tricked you. He used us against each other. It was not your fault kid.”

“I - I was - I was just so s-sad and - and a-angry -” Tommy sniffed. “I - I’m - I’m r-really sorry, Wilbur, I p-promise I am -”

“And I forgave you for everything the moment you said it,” Wilbur replied.

Tommy didn’t really know whether he deserved that or not. 

But, he supposed, forgiveness didn’t really work that way. He had overheard Wilbur say that to his dad once. “He forgave you because he loves you. Despite everything. Now you have to make sure you don’t hurt him again.’

He allowed himself to fall back onto Wilbur as softly as he could, careful not to cause the tutor any more pain. “Th-thank you,” he whispered. 

A hand brushed over his hair. “I’m sorry too,” Wilbur confessed quietly. 

Tommy frowned. “But - but it wasn’t your fault…”

Wilbur shrugged, wincing as he did. “Ow. I know kid. I just… I knew Quackity was bad news. I should have protected you.”

Tommy sniffed. “He - he k-killed my mum…”

“I know,” Wilbur whispered softly. 

“He - he almost killed you…”

“But he didn’t. I’m still here,” Wilbur said, tone laced with gentle certainty. “I’m not leaving you Toms.” He took a not-quite-deep-enough breath. “I - I never would. I promise.”

“I - I know that. Now.”

Wilbur squeezed him. “I’m glad. I - I could never forget you Tommy. I could have a million pupils and you’d still be my favourite.”

Something released in Tommy’s heart, the tension he’d been holding in since Quackity had first stepped into his bedroom all those months ago. “A-aside from Tubbo, right?”

Wilbur laughed and a smile spread across Tommy’s face. 

Wilbur was here. 

It was going to be alright.

–o0o–

Tubbo stilled as Tommy entered the room, slowly lifting his eyes to meet the prince’s. 

He’d been avoiding this. Being - being alone with the prince. Not…not because of Quackity, thank Prime, at this moment the lord was the first official resident the palace dungeons had had in over a century. 

He’d just… wanted to avoid this. 

They stared at each other for a long moment, the smell of furniture polish thick in the air.

Tommy shifted uncomfortably. “W-Wilbur’s awake.”

Relief washed through Tubbo. “That’s good.” 

He would never forget the sight of Quackity lunging for Wilbur like that, the feeling of pure terror that engulfed the room as Techno wrestled the lord away, leaving Wilbur lying on the floor, a dagger in his chest, red staining his already-wrecked shirt…

“We - we should t-talk,” Tommy said hesitantly.

“If - if that’s what you want,” Tubbo whispered, letting go of the rag he was holding and getting to his feet. 

He’s not mad. 

I don’t think.

And - and if he was, he wouldn’t hurt you. You know that. You - you know that.

Tubbo decided to speak first. Apologise first. It - it makes them less mad. 

If he is mad.

Which he isn’t. 

I don’t think. 

“I’m - I’m sorry,” he whispered. Curse his f*cking nervous stutter. “I’m - I’m really sorry Tommy.”

Tommy stared at him. “You - you’re what?”

Tubbo swallowed. “I - I a-abandoned you. I - I should have - I should have been there for you. I’m - I’m really sorry.” I’m a terrible friend. A terrible servant. 

“What - I - Tubbo - Tubbo, no,” Tommy spluttered. “No - no Tubbo, you don’t have to apologise.”

It was Tubbo’s turn to look taken aback. “What?”

Tommy stepped closer. “I - I was going to apologise to you.”

“What?”

Tommy wrung his hands. “I - you were scared. And - and I didn’t notice and you - you thought I would let Quackity take you -”

“I’m - I’m just a servant Tommy,” Tubbo pointed out quietly. “You - you could.”

“But I would never,” Tommy swore. 

“I - I know that,” Tubbo said softly… and it was true, he did. He’d known it the moment Phil had ordered Quackity’s arrest. “I know. It was just… he made it seem so…” he trailed off, unable to find the word he needed

“Possible,” Tommy finished for him. “I - I know. He - he did the same with Wilbur. Tried to make me think Wilbut would - would manipulate me. Wilbur.”

“Still. I’m sorry… I should have kn-known better,” Tubbo said softly. He - he wasn’t sorry because he was scared. 

Well. He was. He didn’t want Tommy to be mad.

But not because the prince would hurt him. 

He just… didn’t want the prince to be mad at him. He didn’t want his - his best friend - the only friend he’d ever had really - to be mad at him. To think Tubbo really thought so low of him. 

He didn’t want to hurt his feelings. 

“He used your - p-past against you,” Tommy said, shaking his head. “You - it’s not your fault you were scared. Anyone would be.”

“Then - then it’s not your fault either,” Tubbo said, as firmly as he could. “Can we agree on that?”

“…Y-yeah. I guess so.”

“I… I really missed you Tommy,” Tubbo whispered. 

Tommy swallowed. “I missed you too.”

Tubbo wasn’t sure who started moving first.

They collided in the centre of the room, crashing into a hug, arms wrapped tightly around one another. 

“You’re - you’re my best friend,” Tubbo whispered, tears leaking from his eyes. 

“You’re my best friend too. No matter what.”

Tubbo liked the sound of that. “No matter what.”

Tommy’s nose was buried in Tubbo’s hair. “You know you can come to me about anything, right? I - I’ll protect you. Always.”

“I know,” Tubbo nodded. “I will.”

“Good,” Tommy breathed, a sigh of relief escaping him. “I never want you to be scared Tubs.”

“I’m not. Not - not when you’re around.” 

“O-oh,” Tommy said shakily. “I - I… that’s… oh.”

“You - you make me feel safer,” Tubbo admitted quietly. “There - there aren’t many people like that. I - I really - I really f*cking missed you.”

“I really missed you too,” Tommy whispered. He sounded like he was holding back tears.

Tubbo chuckled. “Get off me, idiot. You’re - you’re squeezing my tears out.”

Tommy laughed, tears forgotten and Tubbo joined him. 

Tommy was back. He had his best friend back, smiling and laughing and being himself again. Tubbo had forgotten how good it felt to make him laugh. 

Tommy nudged him playfully. “Hot chocolate?”

“Only if I don’t have to make it,” Tubbo grinned. 

Tommy was halfway to the servant’s bell before he had even finished the sentence. 

–o0o–

Tubbo knocked quietly on the wooden door. 

“Come in?”

He turned the handle and stepped inside Wilbur’s bedroom. It was bathed in pale moonlight, which only served to make the man in the bed look even paler, almost ghostly. 

“Tubbo? Is that you?” Wilbur asked, squinting.

Tubbo nodded, hurrying over to the bed. “Y-yeah. It’s me.”

“What are you doing awake?” Wilbur frowned - concerned, not angry. “It’s - it’s past midnight, isn’t it?”

Tubbo glanced over at the clock on the teacher’s bedside table. “Yeah, it is.”

“What are you doing out of bed kid?”

Tubbo bit his lip awkwardly. How was he supposed to explain this?

He’d tried to sleep, he really had - but sleep wouldn’t come, his mind constantly circling back to Wilbur, in pain, alone - what if he wants something, or needs something, and there’s no one there to help him? 

Tubbo knew only too well what it felt like to experience pain alone. He didn’t want Wilbur to sufffer like that, and yet it was all he could think about - how his teacher was probably hurting and lonely and… Tubbo couldn’t sleep for worry. 

“You - um - you’re in p-pain,” Tubbo said lamely. 

“You don’t need to worry about that,” Wilbur said gently. “I’m fine - I will be fine.”

“I - I know,” Tubbo nodded. He did, Ponk was a fantastic doctor, he had no doubt Wilbur would survive his ordeal unscathed - aside from a new scar on his chest. “But… you’re alone.”

Wilbur’s face melted. “Oh… Tubbo… come here…”

He raised an arm and Tubbo climbed on top of the bed, curling up in his teacher’s hold. It was so strange. Wilbur wasn’t in any fit state to fight anyone over anything, but somehow Tubbo felt as though no one could touch him here, safe under Wilbur’s arm. There wasn’t a force on earth that could stop Wilbur from protecting his pupils - and Tubbo was lucky enough to be counted one of them. 

“Are you alright?” Wilbur asked softly. 

Tubbo nodded, pressing his head into Wilbur’s side. “Mhmm. I just… I didn’t want you to be alone.” He yawned, strangely sleepy now. “I… I didn’t like being in pain alone.”

Wilbur’s arm tightened around him. “I… I know kid.”

“I - I’m sorry you got hurt,” Tubbo whispered. It always sounded nice when Wilbur said it to him. “It - it wasn’t your fault. You didn’t deserve that.”

“Thank you.” Wilbur swallowed. “And you - for the record - you didn’t deserve what Quackity did to you either. It wasn’t your fault. And… we care about you far too much to ever let someone… take you away like that, okay? You’re worth so much more than what he told you.”

Oh. That sounded even nicer. 

“And thank you for saving me,” Wilbur added. “You - you were very brave Tubbo. I’m incredibly proud of you.”

Tubbo flushed. “It - it was nothing.”

Wilbur shook his head, pulling him closer. “You stood up to Quackity - twice, once to his face. Just to help me. Thank you.”

Tubbo shrugged. “You helped me first.”

–o0o–

“So…” Puffy sighed. “Quackity burned all the letters.”

Wilbur grimaced. “I thought he might.”

It had been a few days since he’d woken up, and Techno had agreed to help him to the armchair by the fireplace so he could ‘at least see this room from a different angle, c’mon Techno, please?’ The colour was back in his cheeks too, and Ponk said he’d be able to remove the stitches in his chest in around a week or so. He was doing better. 

Techno couldn’t be more relieved. Wilbur being stabbed had never been high on his list of concerns, but that was because Wilbur was not the sort of person to get into a knife fight. He didn’t think it would ever be a worry. Techno would never forget the way the tutor’s breath rattled in his chest as he lay bleeding on the floor. In a room of chaos, it had been all he could focus on, even as he pinned Quackity to the floor, all he could think about was the sound of Wilbur’s breathing. He’s alive, he’s alive, thank Prime - but for how long? How long?   

“He’s already going to be convicted for regicide - not to mention attempted murder,” Puffy said, indicating the bandages peeking through Wilbur’s dressing gown. “But if we want to convict him on other charges - particularly for the sake of official records, should this come up again down the line - we’ll need a statement from you, Wilbur.”

Wilbur nodded. “I can do that.”

“Are you sure?” Phil asked gently. “You - you don’t have to. He’ll be imprisoned for sure - executed if I have anything to do with it, and I most certainly do.”

“I w-want to,” Wilbur said, taking a deep breath, turning to face Puffy more fully, the captain poised with a fountain pen in hand. “For - for the future. If anyone… protests it. They should know it was more than deserved.”

Puffy nodded. “Thank you Wilbur. Just… start wherever you think is best.”

Wilbur thought for a moment before beginning. “Quackity had… a box of letters in his desk,” he said slowly. “They were from all of us, but he was especially interested in mine and Tommy’s, annotating them in order to - to manipulate him. To use what I know about him to get closer to him.”

Phil looked slightly green and Techno screwed up his nose in distaste. “That’s… f*cked up.”

Puffy nodded her agreement. “Can you remember what any of them said?”

Wilbur closed his eyes for a long moment. “I - I think so. Not all of them. But… I remember he’d taken note of the places we went to together, like the library and the garden. He’d noted down that I call him ‘Tommy’ and ‘Toms’ and he - he mentioned that Tommy was… is… scared of people leaving him.”

Phil shook his head in disgust. “He knew that and he… he used it…” 

“And what happened when you confronted him with this?” Puffy asked, pen still moving across the page. 

Wilbur swallowed, looking down. “He - uhm… he didn’t take it well.”

“He locked you away?”

Wilbur nodded. “Y-yeah. R-roughed me up a b-bit first too… broken wrist and all that.”

Techno sucked in a breath. He - he’d known. He’d known that must have happened, it was obvious, but hearing Wilbur say it, confirm it… 

“And - oh!” Wilbur exclaimed, looking up. “You - you have corrupt guards in your ranks. He - he was paying some off them off.”

“That’s a concern,” Puffy frowned. “I… obviously we’ll deal with that at a later date, but just so I know, do you think you could pick them out of a lineup?”

Wilbur took a deep breath. “I - I could try,” he said thoughtfully. “Maybe - maybe not all of the ones from this time, but -”

Techno felt the energy in the room shift. Puffy placed her notepad down. 

“Th-this time?” Phil breathed. “Wilbur, what do you mean ‘this time?’”

Wilbur’s eyes were wide. “I - um… f*ck.”

Techno bit his lip. “You don’t have to tell us.”

Wilbur shook his head quickly. “No - no - I can. I - I want to. A-all this mess began because I - I didn’t tell you what… what Quackity was like.”

“What was he like, Wil?” Techno asked softly.

Wilbur looked down at his feet. “He - um - he r-really didn’t like me. At all.”

Phil blinked. “Why not?’

Wilbur shrugged awkwardly. “He didn’t like that I’m… common, is how he put it. Y’know. Just - just a village teacher. He - uh - h-he m-mocked me. Quite a lot.”

Techno stared at him. “He - he mocked you?"

Wilbur looked up at him. “Y-yeah. Called me a peasant quite a bit.” He snorted. “A slightly outdated insult if you ask me.”

Techno smiled wobbily. “Yeah, a bit.”

Wilbur sighed shakily, looking away from them. “A-and... he hit me once. Before… this time.”

Techno couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Someone had hit Wilbur. Quackity had hit Wilbur. Wilbur. 

“H-h-he - Prime - he uh, pulled me into a room once, summer, earlier this year. He - he had some g-guards and they f-forced me to kn-kneel. And… then he hit me. And made me… b-bow,” Wilbur whispered, an unmistakable tremor in his voice.

Techno stared at him. Wilbur had gone through that. Soft-spoken, book-loving, guitar-playing Wilbur had been - had been intimidated, bullied, hurt -

Phil shook his head in disbelief. “That - I can’t - that…”

“S-sorry…” Wilbur stuttered quietly. 

Phil’s head snapped up. “Prime, no, don’t apologise - I’m sorry Wilbur. I - I should have noticed. He was - he was… Prime…”

“It wasn’t your fault,” Wilbur said with a small shrug. “He was… pretty popular.”

“I know,” Phil nodded. “He was good with people.”

They’re speaking of him in the past tense, Techno realised. Like he’s already dead. 

He was glad. If Quackity’s fate wasn’t already sealed, it was now. 

The palace protected its staff. Its people, the individuals that made it what it was, a functioning unit, a living body. 

And Wilbur was the palace’s heart. 

–o0o–

The light was still on in Phil’s study. 

Techno glanced at the grandfather clock. It’s almost two o’clock in the morning. What is he doing?

He walked over to the door and knocked on it gently. “Phil? It’s Techno.”

There was the sound of shuffling papers and then - “Come in!”

Techno gently pushed open the door. “Phil? What’s going on?"

The king was seated at his desk, papers scattered across it, three or four quills discarded in his wastebasket.

Last Techno had seen him, they’d left Wilbur’s room after the… concerning revelations… and Phil had set off to work on the proceedings for Quackity’s sentencing. 

Has he taken a break? At all?

He approached the desk as the king indicated the documents he was working on. “I have… work to do. For - for Quackity’s trial.”

“At this time of night?” Techno frowned. “It’s nearly two, Phil.”

The king glanced at the clock over the mantlepiece before returning his eyes to his work. “It doesn’t matter.”

“It does,” Techno pressed. “You need to rest. Prime, you’re as bad as Wilbur.”

The joke didn’t seem to help, instead just making Phil wince. 

Oh. I see. 

Techno had learned a lot about the king after working with him so closely. The king was protective, of his family, his palace, his kingdom. He truly cared about every member of staff, from the lowest stable boy to the head butler. He wanted to protect them all. He took losses hard - took them personally. 

Techno swallowed nervously. Prime. Words were not his strong point, they were much more Wilbur’s thing. 

He closed his eyes, trying to imagine what the teacher would do in this situation. 

Probably whizz through all the work in minutes and send everyone to bed. 

He snorted at the thought. Not an option. So… what’s second-best?

“Phil,” Techno said awkwardly. “You - you don’t have to work so hard over this.”

“I do,” Phil said, not missing a beat. “It’s my responsibility. His - the palace’s safety - it’s my responsibility.”

“The palace is safe. Everyone is safe.” Techno took a deep breath. “Wilbur is safe.”

“But he wasn’t,” Phil said, voice breaking. “He - you heard him Techno. What - what Quackity did to him because I… I didn’t see -”

“It - it wasn’t -"

“And not just to him,” Phil continued, sitting back in his chair, waving a hand at the pages in front of him. “To Tubbo - and - and Tommy too, he - he hurt my son… I hurt my son again…”

“No,” Techno said gently. “Phil that’s not fair. You’re not being fair to yourself. Everyone makes mistakes.”

“Not mistakes like mine,” Phil said, swallowing hard. “I - I make a mistake and - and Tommy gets hurt.”

“That’s how parenting works Phil,” Techno said gently. “You’re not going to be perfect all the time. My parents weren’t perfect all the time, but you know what they did? They apologised.” 

It was the first thing they’d done when he’d come home, nervously hovering outside the front door. Will they even want to see me any more? Will they hate me? Will they turn me away, leave me with nothing, nowhere, no one? 

They hadn’t. They’d brought him inside, cried with him, apologised for driving him away. And two years later, while he worked in the palace, they’d sent a letter. Apologising for suffocating him. Wishing him well. Telling him they were proud."

“Everyone makes mistakes Phil,” Techno said gently. “It’s okay to make mistakes. You don’t have to be… perfect all the time.”

“I’m a king,” Phil protested. “It - I… I have to be.”

“But you’re also a person,” Techno said firmly. “You’re only human. You’re allowed to make mistakes.”

Phil took a deep breath. “You - you think so?”

Techno nodded. “I know so.”

Phil swallowed. “I… I see.”

 He glanced up at Techno with a knowing look. “The same applies to you, you know.”

Techno blinked. “Wh-what?”

Phil stood up, shrugging. “I used to be a soldier, you know. Before I married Kirstin and… all of this became my life.” He took a deep breath. “I know how much you want to - to protect everyone. To make sure no one is hurt. And - and maybe it’s just me, but… if I were in your place…” 

He placed a hand on Techno’s shoulder. “You did well Techno. You saved Wilbur’s life. You heard what Ponk said, if Quackity had pulled that knife out, the blood loss would have been enough to - to k-kill him. I’ve never seen anyone move as fast as you did.” He smiled. “I am glad and proud to have you be the one protecting my son.”

Oh.

The knots in Techno’s gut untwined themselves, the ones that had formed ever since he’d met Quackity in that corridor months ago, since the lord had drawn on his self doubt. He’d gotten so used to them that he’d almost forgotten they were there. 

“Th-thank you,” Techno whispered. 

Phil nodded, throat bobbing. “Of - of course.”

You’re only human. You’re allowed to make mistakes. You don’t have to be perfect. 

It didn’t occur to Techno until he was in bed once more, that that was precisely the sort of thing Wilbur might have said. 

Huh. I guess he’s got more pupils than he thinks.

–o0o–

“Ah, Tommy. I - I was hoping to find you in here.

Tommy looked up from his book to find his dad standing there, looking… nervous?

The king swallowed and sat down on the couch next to him. He looked incredibly anxious about… something.

“D-Dad?” Tommy said hesitantly. “Are you… okay?”

His dad winced. “I - uh. Right.” He gulped. “I wanted to apologise.”

Tommy blinked. “Huh?”

“I - you don’t have to accept it!” his dad said quickly. “I just… I wanted to apologise Tommy. For - for not being there for you.” He sighed. “I’m really sorry son. I - I let myself get so wrapped up in protecting you in one way I completely missed the threat standing right in front of me.” 

His dad looked away, down at his feet. “I - I love you so much Tommy. And I - I never meant to hurt you. So… I’m sorry. I made a mistake and… I’m sorry.”

“I forgive you,” Tommy said simply.

His dad’s head shot up, eyes meeting his. “You don’t have to! It - you have every right to be mad -”

“But I don’t want to be,” Tommy said quietly. 

I spent months being angry. At you, at Techno, at Wilbur - Quackity fuelled it, fanned it into flames. 

It burned me to ashes from the inside out. He tried to turn me into a shell. 

I don’t want to be angry. It didn’t feel… good. It just… hurt. 

Why would I want to feel angry? 

When I… 

When I would so much rather feel loved?

“I don’t want to be mad at my dad.”

He watched as a range of emotions flashed across the king’s face - shock to confusion to pure relief. “I - I…”

Tommy discarded his book - sorry Wilbur - and edged closer to his dad, close enough that, if he wanted to, he could - 

Sure enough, an arm snaked around him, pulling him into his dad’s side. 

“I love you dad,” Tommy said softly. “It wasn’t - it’s not your fault Quackity was a b*tch.”

His dad snorted. “He was a b*tch, wasn’t he?”

Tommy nodded. “Y-yeah.”

They stayed like that for a long moment, looking over the library. Quackity might have tried to build new memories here, to use the place for his own ends, but it just hadn’t… stuck. Not properly. There was no love to hold the moments in place. Not like this. 

“Your mother would be so proud of you,” his dad whispered.

Tommy looked up at him. “She’d be proud of you.”

His dad shook his head, opening his mouth, but Tommy cut him off. “She’d be proud of you. You - you’re doing really well. At - at being king. I think she’d be proud.”

Tears welled in his dad’s eyes. “T-Tommy…”

“And - and you’re a good dad,” Tommy said softly. 

“I wasn’t,” the king murmured, so quietly Tommy was pretty sure he wasn’t supposed to hear it. 

He replied anyway. “But you are now.”

His dad swallowed, blinking the tears back. “You’re a good kid Tommy. I’m sorry I missed out on so much of you.”

Tommy shrugged. “We have each other now.”

“We do,” his dad breathed, a small smile crossing his face at the thought. “I love you so much son.”

He pressed a kiss to the top of Tommy’s head, buried amongst his curls. “You’re going to make a very wise king one day.”

–o0o–

Wilbur leaned back, letting his head rest against the wall and closed his eyes, sighing. 

He was bored. 

The birds were chirping outside, but even like this, sat on the windowseat, he couldn’t see them. He couldn’t see anything. He couldn’t even watch birds, let alone read or play guitar - his wrist was still too f*cked-up for that - all he could do was sleep and talk to anyone that happened to come into his room.

He hated resting. He was bored and he wanted nothing more than to do something - he wanted to teach or read or - or something. Anything. He’d even settle for planning a geology lesson.

But he couldn't. Because Quackity had broken his glasses. And now he couldn’t see his own fingers in front of his face. 

At least the pain had gone away almost entirely now. Ponk had taken his stitches out a few days ago and now, when Wilbur traced the place the wound had been, his fingers found a patch of bumpy skin beneath his shirt, slightly dipped. The scar forming, the wound healing. 

Not that he could see it. 

There was a knock on the door. Wilbur lifted his head, opening his eyes. “Come in!”

A blurr of blonde hair, green robes - “Phil?” Wilbur asked, rotating where he sat so his feet were on the floor instead of propped up on the seat. 

“That’s right,” Phil’s voice said. “How’re you doing Wilbur?”

Wilbur shrugged. “I”m alright. It hurts less.”

“That’s good,” Phil said, coming across the room. “I - uh - I brought you something.”

Wilbur blinked. “Huh?” He hadn’t noticed, but the blurry brown thing Phil was holding looked an awful lot like a… box? 

Phil sat down on the armchair next to him. “I… these were supposed to be a birthday present for you, next summer. But after… what Quackity did, I got Sam to make them the highest priority. I know they can’t replace your old ones, but…”

He opened the box and a flash of gold shone in Wilbur’s vision. 

He gasped. “Ph-Phil…”

Phil extended the box towards him. “Go on.”

Tentatively Wilbur took the - the glasses from the box and lifted them to his face, placing them over his ears. 

For the first time in weeks, the world around him sharpened, Phil’s face coming into clarity as the king stared at him hopefully, a sheepish smile on his face. 

Prime, Wilbur could cry. 

He could see again. 

“Are - are they okay?” Phil asked. “Do they fit alright? Do they work? Can you - can you - see?”

“I - I can see,” Wilbur chuckled, almost disbelievingly. “I can see -"

Phil held out a hand mirror. “H-here. So you can… see how they look.”

Wilbur raised the mirror in front of his face.

It was him.

But his face was framed with gold, 

It dripped from the sides of the glasses, looping over his ears and behind his head, shimmering as it caught the light.

He looked… 

He looked like a royal tutor. Regal and - and wise and - 

He looked like he belonged. 

“Do - do you like them?” Phil asked nervously.

“I - I love them,” Wilbur whispered, voice choked. “I - I r-really love them Phil. Thank you - thank you so much -”

Phil shook his head. “It’s the least you deserve. I should be the one thanking you.”

Wilbur blinked, putting the mirror down. “I - I don’t need -”

“Wilbur,” the king said. “I could never thank you enough. I don’t thank you enough. For - for everything you’ve done.”

Wilbur shook his head. “I - I haven’t -”

“You saved my family,” Phil said softly. “Twice over. Nothing I could say - nothing I could do - could ever repay you for that.”

“I-I don’t need payment,” Wilbur stammered. “I - I didn’t - I didn’t do anything - anyone else could have -”

“But they didn’t,” Phil said gently. “You did. You’re - you’re good Wilbur. You - you’ve fixed so many things around here.” He sighed. “And - and maybe we’ve - maybe I’ve - been too willing to let you do that. I should have been there to help you fix things this time, but I wasn’t.” He smiled and Wilbur, vision restored, could see every ounce of determination, every deal made and promise sealed in his eyes. “But I can fix my mistakes. You taught me that.”

Wilbur blinked. I did?

“So - from now on, I’m going to be there,” Phil said. It sounded almost like a promise. “I’ll listen to you Wilbur. Always.”

“Phil…” Wilbur breathed. Oh Prime, oh f*ck, I’m going to f*cking cry - 

“You’re the smartest man I’ve ever met Wilbur. I’m incredibly grateful for all you’ve done,” Phil said softly. “And I do not thank you enough.”

“So thank you. For teaching me how to be a father. And how to be a king.”

Wilbur managed to blame his - f*cking traitorous - new glasses steaming up on the cold weather, thanks in large part to the distraction of Tommy crashing into the room, searching for his servant - a game of hide and seek apparently. Phil smiled fondly at his son as he raced back out of the room and turned to Wilbur. “He’s in my study, under my desk. I have the key.”

Wilbur burst into laughter and, as Phil ordered refreshments, he decided this whole ‘resting’ thing might not be so bad.

After all, how many people get to relax by having have afternoon tea with the king? 

–o0o–

Techno hurried into the room next door, heart in his throat. 

That - that was a cry - Tubbo screamed - is he safe? Is he hurt? 

Quackity’s in the dungeon - but what if he isn’t? Or what if one of the guards he paid off is - is - 

He burst into the room, chest heaving.

The adrenaline quickly faded as he registered the young servant staring at him, eyes wide, covers pooling around his waist. “T-T-Techno?”

“Kid,” Techno breathed. “You’re okay?”

Tubbo blinked. “I - uh - y-yeah? Why - why wouldn’t I be?”

“You - you s-screamed."

Tubbo’s face went red and he hung his head. “I - did I?” He swallowed, and Techno noticed how tight his grip on the covers had gotten. “I’m - I’m s-sorry. I didn’t m-mean to wake you.”

“No, no, it’s not - it’s fine kid,” Techno said hastily. “I just - I thought you were in danger.”

Tubbo shook his head. “No - no d-danger. Just…” he swallowed. “Just a nightmare.”

Ah. That Techno could understand. “O-oh.”

Tubbo still wouldn’t meet his eyes. “So - so you - you can l-leave now. If… if you want.”

The kid looked so small, curled up in his bed, sheets bunched in his fists as he looked down at his lap. His hands were shaking. 

Techno couldn’t leave him like this.

“Do you want me to leave?” he asked, as gently as he could. 

Tubbo stilled. “I - uh - uhm -”

“You don’t have to do this alone, remember?” Techno said softly. “If you want me to stay, I’ll stay.”

Tubbo’s eyes lifted, searching his face for a long moment. 

Then - “I - I… I d-don’t… y-you can… stay. P-please.”

Techno didn’t make him repeat himself. “Then I’ll stay.” 

He closed the door and crossed the room to settle on the bottom half of Tubbo’s bed, leaning against the wall. 

Tubbo smiled. “Th-thank you.”

Techno extended a hand and Tubbo slipped his into it. It was almost completely swallowed by Techno’s hand, and, not for the first time, he remembered just how much bigger he was that the servant. How threatening . 

Not for the first time, he found himself marvelling that the kid had found the courage to trust him. 

“Nightmares… suck,” Techno whispered. It was the only word that came to mind to describe them, as lame and understated as it was. He knew Tubbo understood. 

Techno squeezed his hand. “Do you… want to talk about it?”

Tubbo shrugged. He’d slumped back now, propped up only by his headboard and pillows. “It was… a bit like the usual one.”

Techno knew what he meant. 

“I… I dream about being sent back to Schlatt,”

“He’s always really, really angry - a-and he has the…the…

“No one comes to save me.”

“But - i-it was Quackity this time,” Tubbo said. A shiver ran through his body. “He - he was r-really angry with me.”

“He can’t touch you,” Techno said softly. He swallowed. “I won’t let anyone touch you.”

Tubbo’s lips parted, apparently processing that declaration. “I - I…”

“I - I’m glad you came to me, to save Wilbur,” Techno said, letting a smile grace his face. “But… just so you know… you can come to me to save yourself too. I - if you’d told me about Quackity I would have protected you. I promise.”

Tubbo’s eyes were wide. “R-really?”

“Really,” Techno swore. “I’d protect you from anything kid.”

“Could you - c-could you say that again?” Tubbo whispered hesitantly. 

Oh Prime, this kid…

“I’d protect you from anything,” Techno repeated. 

“That - that sounds nice,” Tubbo breathed shakily. 

“It’s true,” Techno said. “You’re safe with me."

“I… I know,” Tubbo whispered. “You… you get nightmares too.”

To anyone else that statement might have seemed… random . Disconnected . Anyone else might have seen Techno’s nightmares as a weakness. They might have seen his past as a weakness. Certainly not an advantage. Certainly not something that would make someone feel safe.

But Techno understood exactly what Tubbo meant.

He looked the servant in the eyes. 

“It is the greatest honour of my life to share anything with you.”

I understand. I know. 

I know how it feels to feel safe and yet walk on a tightrope. I know how it feels to be ready to let go, and yet your mind still clings on tight. I know how it feels to stare at the ceiling and wonder ‘why me?’. I know how it feels to wake up with a scream dying in your thoat. 

It gets better. 

But, even if it doesn’t… 

At least we can do it together. 

“You can come to me for anything,” Techno said softly. “Including nightmares.”

The grip on his hand tightened and Tubbo exhaled, the last of the tension leaving his body as a small smile appeared on the servant’s face. 

“I’m g-glad we share a wall.”

“Me too kid,” Techno smiled, letting his head rest against the wall in question. He was more than happy to stay here all night. “Me too.”

–o0o–

Wilbur wasn’t quite sure what he was doing. 

He didn’t like the dungeons. They were small and cramped and cold and - and far too dark.

But he - he felt like he had to go down. Now that he could walk again, he - he wanted to look into that cell from the outside. To prove to that voice in his head that he had made it out. That things were alright. 

It was odd. Wilbur had never revisited the places he’d been hurt before - he’d never revisited the room Quackity had forced him to kneel in, he’d never returned to the orphanage dormitory, never ventured close to the stream in the forest again. He supposed, until now, he hadn’t really felt… safe to do so. 

He reached up to fiddle with one of the golden chains on his glasses. 

“Wilbur,” a voice snarled. 

Wilbur skidded to a halt. “Quackity?!”

The lord rose to his feet. “What the f*ck are you doing down here?!”

Wilbur took a step back. “I - I -”

What the f*ck is wrong with me? Why do I - why do feel so tense? - he’s behind bars. 

“Come to put yourself back where you belong?” Quackity smirked. 

Wilbur folded his arms. “I don’t belong in these dungeons.”

Quackity laughed. “Don’t you? You fitted so perfectly here, curled in the muck, where people like you belong -”

“Where people like you belong,” Wilbur interrupted, gathering his courage as best he could. “I belong in the palace.”

Quackity laughed again, cold and cruel. “Oh Wilbur, come on. I think we both know by now that’s not true.”

“Who did the palace save?” Wilbur pointed out. “When it came down to it, a servant, a guard and the royal family, saved me. They believed me.”

“And they were foolish to,” Quackity spat. “You’re worth nothing Wilbur. You don’t deserve to be here. And I think, deep down, you know that.”

Wilbur shook his head, even as something sank in his stomach. 

It’s true. You know it is. 

You don’t deserve to be here. You never have. 

They deserve better. 

“Those new glasses may make you look the part, but it’s all just cosmetics,” Quackity hissed. “You don’t deserve this Wilbur. They should have left you to rot.”

Words were sticking in Wilbur’s thoat. He couldn’t speak, couldn’t defend himself, couldn’t fight back -

“You don’t deserve the favour you’ve been shown,” Quackity continued, words dripping with poison. “You’re a fraud who breaks the rules. Who disrespects your superiors.”

He came closer, hands reaching out and wrapping around the bars of his cell. “I should have taught you your place better.” He smirked. “The same way Schlatt taught that worthless servant -”

And Wilbur found his voice. 

“Shut up,” he hissed, fists clenching, eyes flashing. “Do not. Speak of my pupil that way.”

Quackity recoiled. 

“Tubbo - Tubbo is worth a thousand of you,” Wilbur spat. “And - and I don’t care what you think of me. But you will watch your tongue when it comes to him - when it comes to either of my pupils. I will never forgive what you did to Tommy.”

“I - I don’t - I don’t need your forgiveness,” Quackity spluttered. 

“Don’t you?” Wilbur said softly. “Or haven’t you heard? A man was executed because I said he should be.”

Quackity’s eyes widened. 

Wilbur raised an eyebrow. “On second thought? Make that two men.”

He strode away without a backwards glance, even as Quackity screamed and raged behind him. 

It felt good. To walk away. 

He found himself wondering if this was what winning felt like. 

–o0o–

“Techno?”

“Wilbur?”

Wilbur gave the guard a sheepish smile. “I know what you’re going to say.”

Techno folded his arms. “Oh, do you?”

“You’re going to tell me to ‘get back into bed’.”

Techno rolled his eyes. “Because you’re injured.”

“Barely!”

“You got stabbed -”

“Weeks ago! I’m almost completely healed now!” Wilbur protested. “I can walk and everything - Ponk cleared me!”

“It’s snowing Wilbur,” Techno huffed. 

Wilbur smiled. “I know.” He cast his gaze back to the palace gardens which were sprinkled with glittering snowflakes, sparkling in the starlight. “I had to come out and see it.” 

Techno walked over to his side. “It… is beautiful,” he admitted. He last a sidelong glance at him. “Nice glasses, by the way.”

Wilbur flushed, cheeks heating despite the cold. “They - they were a gift from Phil.”

“They suit you.”

“You think so?”

“Yeah. They look… right on you. Like they belong on your face.”

Wilbur snorted at that, even as his heart warmed. They belong. 

I belong.

Quackity’s voice rose unbidden in his mind

“You don’t deserve to be here.”

I… I belong…

“And I think, deep down, you know that.”

Wilbur’s chest tightened. 

“You… do you think I belong here?” he whispered, the words slipping out before he could stop them.

For an awful moment, Techno said nothing and Wilbur could have curled up and died there and then, leaving his near-silent question hanging in the frosty air, forever unanswered. 

But then…

“Wilbur of course,” Techno breathed. “It - it’s like you were born for this. You… the palace is your home.”

Wilbur swallowed. Alright. I - I guess we’re doing this. “I - s-s-sometimes… I don’t… I don’t think I deserve all of this,” he confessed quietly, waving a hand vaguely at the palace and the gardens below. “It… I… It’s a lot. And I’m - I’m just… me . I don’t… I don’t deserve it.”

Another pause. 

“S-sometimes… I… I-I feel the same way,” Techno admitted, staring out at the horizon. 

Wilbur started, staring at him. “Y-you? But…”

But you’re - you - 

Techno was strong and intimidating - a survivor in every sense of the word, a brave soldier, a hard worker, a loyal friend - 

Wilbur could think of no one more deserving of being in the palace than the guard beside him. 

“But…” Techno said slowly. “We can work through it together. Right? Things are… easier when you have someone that understands.” He smiled softly. “Someone very wise taught me that.”

Wilbur swallowed. “You - you think so?” 

You understand? 

You’ll help me through it? 

You’ll be there?

All I want - all I need - is for someone to be there.

Techno nodded. “I know so.”

He reached out an arm and pulled Wilbur into his side. Wilbur’s skin prickled at Techno’s warmth as he slumped into his friend’s hold. 

Techno was here. 

And, for now, that was enough. 

–o0o–

Wilbur watched as Tubbo pulled Tommy beneath the blossom tree. 

“There’s a beehive Tommy! A beehive!”

“They’re - Tubs - bees are not friends -”

“You’re my friend, and any friend of mine is a friend of yours!”

“That is not how bees work -”

Techno laughed, shaking his head. “Should we stop them?”

Wilbur shrugged. “They won’t get stung. Or… Tubbo won’t get stung. Tommy might, if he keeps flailing around like that.”

“Tubbo won’t let that happen.”

Sure enough the servant seized the prince’s arms, pinning them to his sides, shaking his head, even as Tommy squawked in protest. 

“That kid’s smart,” Techno smiled.

Wilbur nodded in agreement. “He is.” Numbers - and bees -  were easier than words for Tubbo. Wilbur wouldn’t be surprised if the servant surpassed the limited maths knowledge Wilbur had in a few more years. 

He’d already bought textbooks just in case.

Tubbo eventually got the prince to sit down and Tommy consented to have one bee crawl over his trouser legs, watching it with a curious mixture of terror and fascination. Tubbo beamed from where he sat, a little closer to the hive, five or six bees crawling up and down his arms, a few more using his head as a landing platform. He didn’t seem to mind. 

Wilbur and Techno stayed in the garden, half-watching, but mostly talking to each other as the sun passed across the sky. 

As far as Wilbur was concerned it was a pretty perfect way to spend a spring afternoon. 

“Are they still out here?” 

Wilbur turned to face the king who had just emerged into the garden, a warm smile on his face. “I didn’t know bees could provide so much entertainment.”

“Those two can find fun in anything,” Techno chuckled.

“DAD!” Tommy shouted, jumping up and sprinting across the garden, divinginto his dad’s embrace. “Tubbo’s attacking me with bees!”

“I’m not,” Tubbo laughed, stopping to scoop up Tommy’s discarded bee and place it, along with the others, back into the hive. “He was warming up to them!”

“It was a hostage situation!”

Phil chuckled, not letting go of his son. “Don’t worry, I’ll protect you.”

Tommy laughed, half-heartedly fighting against his dad’s hold. 

Wilbur shook his head, but he couldn’t help smiling. 

Being a teacher was much more than words on a page, facts and figures on a blackboard.

Techno ruffled Tubbo’s hair, the servant leaning into the stronger man. Tommy finally gave up and hugged his dad back, the king leaning down to bury a kiss amongst his son’s blonde curls. 

And Wilbur’s heart felt light as he watched them.

I did my job right.