Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

"wil?" technos voice rang out from under the trapdoor, "schlatts here..says its important or something.."

wilbur was confused. schlatt never actually knocked. on the front door. like a normal human being. usually he crawled through wilburs bedroom window like a fucking cockroach.

wilbur threw on one of his (schlatts) shirts - he was changing he swears - and wraps a blanket around him, hoping schlatt would just hug him if he got too cold. it was raining outside, so logically he knew schlatt would probably be cold and soaked. but thats what showers are for.

he walks down the ladder and looks down the hallway.

"hey- tech?"

"hm?"

"did he say what it was about?"

techno shook his head, but his face looked..concerned. wilbur felt a surge of panic rush through his system, in which his body retaliated with a sharp cramp up the left side of his abdomen. he winced and techno raised an eyebrow. he put his thumb up and proceeded to walk downstairs.

he opened the door again and saw his boyfriend. he immediately gasped quietly, letting go of the door in favor of going to reach his hand out to touch schlatts bruised face.
"schlatt are you-?"
schlatt grabbed wilburs wrists tightly, pushing them away. he looked to the side and down, wet red hair and chipped horns shining in the orange glow of the porch light. he inhaled sharply and wilbur realised he was crying.

"..schlatt..? are you- whats wrong what happened- did your dad, your dad did this, didnt he?" wilbur rambled, automatically reaching out to touch schlatt again, who slapped his hand away.

"im leaving."

"wh-..schlatt? schlatt what are you-"

"im leaving you." he said quickly, looking up to look at wilbur in the face. he was crying, eyes red, right eye bruised and swollen, lips bitten - a nasty habit schlatt picked up - hands and wrists bruised and knuckles rubbed raw.

wilbur looked up at him, "did i do something? can i make it up to you? schlatt please what happened-"

"its- im not just..leaving you. im leaving." he drew attention to the bag slung around his shoulders and it sudddenly clicked in wilburs mind.

"was it bad this time? did- what did he do?"
schlatt stayed silent.
"you can stay with me! i can," wilbur started crying, and schlatt looked away again, "schlatt please, stay with me-"

something clicked in schlatts mind and he snapped, "lil just stop! okay? im going-"

"lily..? were you about to call me lily?" wilbur whispered, looking up at schlatt. he watched schlatt bit his lip and close his eyes as though he was disappointed in himself.

"wil- i cant stay."
"why?" wilbur said, moving to hold schlatts arms, "why cant you stay? i can- i can look after you and you can stay in my room, please dont leave me-" he said through sobs, trying to stay quiet.

"wilbur im leaving. thats final. i came to say goodbye."

"i'll see you again though, right? or- or i can come with you!"

"youre not coming with me. im not being responsible if you get hurt. besides phil and those weird fucking crows will follow. i dont want to be found."

"schlatt please, i dont know what to do without you-"

"thats your problem. not mine."

"schlatt-"

"goodbye, wilbur."

"can- hug? please, just dont- dont just leave, at least hug me or-"

"no, wilbur, i cant."

wilbur paused. how was he supposed to feel? sad? annoyed? confused? all three? all three sounds good.

he looked up at schlatt, eyes narrowed and teary, face splotchy and lips parted. he stared at schlatt for a few moments, analasying him.

"...why?"

"what?"

"why cant you stay? what did i do? did i say something; do something? am i too much? do you not care about me? did you ever-"

"you know i fucking do-"

"do i? do i really? because youre just leaving without giving me an explanation!"

"wilbur, im going."

"schlatt-"

and just like that he was gone, and wilbur was left alone on the porch, the glow from the porch light making his tears shine. he was stood in the doorway, blanket long forgotten and in a pile around him on the floor. he was shaking, trying not to cry, mouth partly open as he watched schlatt leave.

Chapter Text

"...wil..?" wilbur turned around at the sound of her sisters voice, seeing both her and techno.
they both looked concerned. tommy was wrapped in her blanket, holding the bunny toy wilbur had gotten for her when they found her.
it was an old one wilbur had. it still had the stitch mark from when he'd lost it in the woods and his mum had to sew it up. wilbur had had to sew it up several times after. tommy liked to bite.

before he knew it, tommy was in front of wilbur, picking up his blanket and holding it out to him.
"you look cold.." she mumbled and wilburs heart broke a little bit. she was trying not to cry despite the fact she was too young to understand.
when wilbur didnt take the blanket, she pouted and tried wrapping it around wilburs legs. techno huffed out a laugh and wrapped the blanket around wilbur properly, keeping a hand on his shoulder.

wilbur blinked back into focus, one hand going to ruffle tommys hair (who was now clinging to wilburs leg) and one went to rest on technos hand. he sniffed and wiped the tears away.
"you alright?"

"im fine tech."

"are you sure? you dont-"

"i said im fine."

techno sighed, and moved his hand up to wilburs head, pushing it down into his shoulder.

"what the-"

"i dont do this much. embrace it."

"...fine."

wilbur relaxed into the half-hug, and tommy closed the door, pulling wilburs shirt. wilbur picked tommy up and hugged her. he kept his head on technos shoulder and kissed tommys head.

he really wasnt lying when he said he didnt know what hed do without schlatt. he was wilburs whole world, he cant remember what hed done before they met.

he ended up on his bed. he focused on the feeling of the fluffy blanket between his fingers and on his wrist. his head was against the headboard looking up at the ceiling. he didnt feel the need to cry anymore; scared that if he did, hed expect schlatt to come through the window and comfort him.
he sighed, kneading the blanket between his fingers quicker. he wasnt sad. he was angry. because what the Fuck?? who does that??? fuck schlatt.

the lights from the moon and stars only made wilbur worse, so he closed the curtains, barely even looking outside. he slumped back onto his bed, looking at the photos of them on the wall. another glare of anger rushed through him, and he rolled off the bed and walked to the wall. he looked closer at the photos and had to stop himself from smiling. he felt himself tearing up and he ripped them off the wall.

he kept them under his bed in a box, along with several other things that reminded him of schlatt.

he kept the shirts though. and the jackets. especially the nice leather one with the gold zips. and also the jewellery. schlatt had good taste, okay?
he tried to get the tattoo off, scrubbing at it until his wrist bled, but the half heart stayed. he even tried cutting it out, but techno had walked in and, thankfully, stopped him.

he always wore the gold ring with the amber heart, and kept his favourite photo of them. it was in a forest on a server they had found and whitelisted for the two of them. they went there when they just wanted to be alone or whatever.
it had a forest and a little river. it had a dingy fucking wooden bridge covered with moss that wilbur always thought it was be absolutely Amazing for sliding on.

the photo was them sitting on one side of the bridge, feet dangling over the edge. schlatt was wearing a red jumper and black jeans that looked like theyd been dragged through a bush. his hair was bleached with little pink streaks, horns starting to grow in properly. he was wearing his tattered shoes that had the graffiti and doodles on them. wilbur was wearing schlatts blue jumper and it was Far too big for him, falling off one of his shoulders and showing the hickies from when schlatt had got a bit carried away with the kissing. he was wearing flared jeans and burgandy doc martens. they were unprepared for the picture when schlatt took it. schlatts other hand was on wilburs neck, trying to get him to look at the camera, but wilbur was too focused on a cool bird or something. it was a nice memory for wilbur, one he really didnt want to leave in a box under his bed and forget about. he knew no one else would move into that house, that phil still technically owned it.
he kept that photo in his pocket always, even in pogtopia, even in limbo he found it, even though the faces were blurry and he couldnt remember schlatts name. he kept it after his revival.

wilbur was sure hed keep it forever. but, yknow. fuck schlatt.