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Wilbur.
Good ol' n' new Wil', some would say, even if Wilbur had only just turned 18. The man had been at the village for a few years and now he was presumably 21 and legally able to drink.
Leaving Wilbur to figure that's why he woke up on the second morning of his adult life with a stabbing pain in his head. He also woke up cuddling some guy, - fully clothed, Wilbur breathed smoothly, - on a forgein floor with glass bottles and men scattered everywhere.
Wilbur knew once he turned "21" the guys would all get him drunk. He didn't mind - in fact, he had jumped right alongside them once they showed up at his door. He didn't even remember anything that happened that night. Only the taste of sweetened berries and the familiar, nestling fear as he "legally" drank as much Vodka as he desired.
All of the men believed Wilbur was a man who ran away from home to make a life for himself. And there wasn't a single lie about that statement. Just a small twisting of words.
The young man, - old child? - found this village with his trusty steed when he was 16; when he ran away from home. His family would never find him again and he would never have to bother them again. All they would have to do is accept that he's probably dead and move on. Besides Tommy, who Wilbur prayed wouldn’t rat him out.
Wilbur thought about that when he turned "21." Sitting at a bar with laughing men and wreckage around him, staring into the glimmer orange surface of his drink. Did he have a funeral? How was Tommy? God he left Tommy alone. How was Phil? Did he have a gravestone? Would Techno show up to it? Would Tommy tell on him in the end? Would Phil even care enough to provide Tommy the basic necessities? Spite the fact that’d be Wilbur’s last request? Wilbur knew he was hurting them. He still ran off, only with a note left and quick words of grief and love to Tommy and their glassy eyes. His reflections glare had him wincing. He regretted ever running away. These thoughts dwelled and darkened the pool that is his mind. He couldn't imagine the grief they all felt. And so he drank it away, drank as much as he wanted away and forgot.
He forgot the nights and days after. Acquired a stabbing headache for a few days. Y’know, the not-normals of getting drunk. Most men sent teasing and snide comments his way, women looked on with caution and Wilbur hugged the edges of crowds as he tried not to trip on the way to the local hospital a few days into his adult life.
Wilbur had drank before. Heck he’s spoken to people who got drunk on the regular. You are not supposed to have a hangover for 3 days straight. He hadn't been able to work much, - if at all, - as his eyes threatened to shut on him 24/7. He looked like shit due to the multiple times he had fallen into the ground and, y'know, being unable to take a step without wanting to faint.
He sent grins to the passing families. Hoping his lying whispers of, "I'm fine," reached their ears. Wilbur didn’t care whether they looked in glee or concern. Either way he was being a bother. They were all trying to get through their days. No need to spend time on the guy who didn't even bring in a good profit for your town.
One man had insisted on helping him. Wilbur failed to recall their name and sent them a smile with a "thank you." The man hoisted the weak arm atop his shoulders with words that entered one ear and left the other.
Wilbur had said thanks, - once again with a smile Wilbur hoped looked kind, - to the man who helped him get to the hospital. The man waved, his words being lost to Wilbur’s ears as he left. Sighing, Wilbur shoved the door open before sauntering into the eight person lobby.
It was a small, wooded Hospital with only one nurse and doctor. Tons of people helped out in the area; the Hospital promises discounts if you helped out enough. Wilbur merely sent the worker a lopsided grin as she called his name after seeing 6'5 man ducking through the large - small, - doorway.
Even if Wilbur never got sick, every worker here had met him. He always brought his leftovers from his field here. For the few times Wilbur had been here, he received generous discounts each visit due to how much he donated. Wilbur was grateful for their kindness and always left notes to them, always trying to be as friendly as possible.
"Wilbur Soot." His name fell from his tongue, coming out in a slur before the worker repeated his name and wrote him down on the list.
Luckily for Wilbur, there was no one here besides a crying baby and was immediately escorted to a back room and awaited the nurse and doctor.
Unluckily for Wilbur, the nurse walked into the room with a basket that held a crying child in it. Wilbur immediately covered his ears as the baby's screeches made another cut through his head. The nurse gave her apologies quickly before turning back to the baby, a finger held up with a humming shush.
This left Wilbur in his agony. His hair not covering his fingernails clawing at his - dirty, disgusting - hair. He winced as the cry of the baby increased and clenched his eyes shut.
The baby should shut the hell up soon. It better. This headache sucks, this is so shitty.
"Shh, shh. Hey, can you calm down please Fundy?" Wilbur scratched his head more and ignored the tears forming in the corners of his eyes.
Whywhywhywhywhywhywhywhy why won't it shut up?
The pain only echoed in his head, not daring to ever take even a step away. Wilbur's body curled up as much as it could in the small chair.
"- soot?"
Shutupshutupshutup please make this pain go away. I want it gone. Why does it hurt so much? Why? What's happening? Why does it hurt?
"-pen your eyes."
Open.
Wilbur opened his eyes only to see the blurred and glowing world that was the floor.
…
The only things Wilbur remembered from that day was fainting and one name.
"Fundy." Was her name. They had found a fox-human hybrid 3 days ago in the field of flowers nearby. Future Wilbur would forever admit that his daughter had been the cutest thing he had seen after he woke up. This Wilbur’s eyes gleamed, ears perked as the nurse explained her woes.
The nurse and doctor have been hiding the child due to hybrids being outlawed against in their village. But had been stupid enough to leave the sleeping bundle of a baby in the same bed as Wilbur once he woke up.
Wilbur would've never been disgusted by a hybrid. He had been raised all around them after all. Making him one of the few who welcomed hybrids to the village, helped them sneak out the back. So when he awoke to the sleeping baby and a night sky resting outside the window, Wilbur sent a weak, "let-me-sleep" wave to the nurse sitting in the chair and a slur of the words, "its fine."
He didn't care for the hybrid baby at that moment, but both shared a common goal. Sleep and warmth. Wilbur didn't mind that the baby soon curled up under his arm. The arm Wilbur offered to his brother's for nights and days of comfort. Holding someone with that arm became a habit for him he welcomed.
Of course Wilbur found it cute when he awoke to the fox hybrid's hands clutching his shirt. It reminded him of the cold nights he spent holding Tommy. He would admit to the world that his daughter is cute. Thus the nurse returned to the room the following morning to Wilbur trying his best to calm a hungry child he couldn’t feed with his soothing voice and hymns.
Wilbur had shocked himself when the child fell back asleep. He smiled, breathing with relief as the nurse returned to check on them. They never figured out why the burning headache had terrorized him for over 3 days. Of course Fundy started screeching a few minutes later and the nurse went ahead and took Fundy from Wilbur to go feed her.
Wilbur was released from hospital care later that day. Or should’ve, at least.
“Hey, could I see Fundy?”
His question scared the nurse who had already sworn Wilbur to secrecy. Wilbur quickly picked up on her fear and reassured her that he was fine with hybrids. This ended up with Wilbur staying an extra night since Fundy had decided she was going to fall asleep in Wilbur’s arms by crawling out of her basket. Both adults had laughed, - Wilbur’s concealed chuckles, - at the little one's antics. For how young Fundy was, she was obviously more fox-like. That didn’t even include her fox face, ears and tail.
Butterflies roared in his stomach at the realization, quickly swallowing to place a reassured smile on his face. Brown eyes daring a glance towards the fidgeting nurse.
Wilbur left the next morning. Sadly smiling as he took his fingers from Fundy’s hands, fingers running across the prickly pieces of fur. And, like any baby, Fundy cried. She cried the entire day. Then the entire next day. The child had chosen to become attached to Wilbur. No one there would ever understand why that was the case, simply laughing it off and, quietly, preparing paperwork.
The next day Fundy had stopped crying all the time, only screeching when she wanted food or needed any form of care. The nurse was right there to take care and give Fundy everything she could want whenever requested. She tried her best of course, but Fundy kept crying. Soon Fundy’s cries would become quieter as the day went on and she stayed bundled and hidden in the basket the nurse carried around.
On the third day Wilbur had returned for a follow-up. He turned out to be fine. The medicine did it’s job and the healing potions helped get rid of whatever was wrong. The third day was when Fundy cried the most.
“I think she’s missed you.”
The thing about fox hybrids, - especially one like Fundy, - is they grow fast. So even with Fundy only being an estimated week old, she was still as big as a 3 month old human child. This didn’t shock Wilbur, he had read books about hybrids. Hybrid children were as normal as any human child. They needed parents. Their brains grew in a similar way. They eat the same foods - depending on how much of a hybrid one of them is.
And sometimes human children choose a favorite person.
Wilbur held the small fox hybrid, of whom was now content and sleeping in his arms. Wilbur held a small smile on his face looking down at Fundy. A fucking child decided that they liked Wilbur and now, here he was, holding Fundy in his arms. He didn’t make the nurse insist he hold the child, in fact, he offered to hold Fundy.
He told himself it was to get her to shut up.
It got her to quiet down. That was a win. She had ended up falling asleep whilst Wilbur and the nurse whispered about his headache and how he dealt the past few days. Oddly enough, one good sleep had seemed to help Wilbur rid of the painful headache. The nurse left after, slightly smiling and asked if he wanted to stay until Fundy woke up.
Wilbur jumped as the door both suddenly and slowly opened somehow. Looking up he saw the nurse waving her hand before closing the door silently behind her. “Hey. How’s Fundy been?”
“She’s been quiet, hasn’t moved much either.” The nurse's smiles, and Wilbur bites back the bile in his throat. Who the fuck would be smiling at him? She’s probably smiling at Fundy.
The nurse fidgets, “Well,” the nurse says as Wilbur starts to look away, barely catching the basket in the corner of his eyes before looking at the blue pillows piled on the bed. “It’s nice to see that she’s calmed down. She’s been screaming the past 3 days. I guess she really has taken a liking to you.”
Wilbur’s brain gets caught up on any words - or there isn't any words to get caught up on in the first place. Resulting in the silence and the light tapping of Wilbur's foot.
He’s already had a few hours to think, and had already wrapped his head around the fact that a child took a liking to him. Enough to cry days on end because they wanted him, - WILBUR, - nearby. Not just a human baby, but a fox-hybrid who had been found near dead in the forest a week ago.
In 2 hours. That’s all he managed to wrap his head around.
Nice going Wilbur.
Wilbur stopped the bitter smile from forming on his face.
So. A baby liked his presence.
Yeah.
….
Wilbur glared at the wall.
A baby liked him, - HIM - someone who is a runaway kid, who just turned 18 and wore a beanie around all the time to cover the hair he couldn’t always clean, a fucker who had only made his family’s emotional states worse, - a baby liked Wilbur.
God. Wilbur’s eyes clenched shut. This is to stupid to be true. He didn't want to think about it.
“Thank you.” Wilbur suddenly spoke up, turning back to face the nurse who nearly dropped the basket she was holding. “For helping me get rid of that headache.” He hoped his fake smile seemed nice, he couldn’t tell by the shocked expression overlooking her face.
She smiled, waving her free hand for a moment. “It wasn’t a problem, it’s my job after all.” Wilbur doesn’t cringe at the smile, instead following her eyes as they look at the bundle of a Fundy in his arms. “And she likes you a lot. Watching out for that kid is more than enough of a thank you to me.” She chuckled. “Getting her to be quiet is already enough of a thank you.”
Wilbur bit back a sigh, leaving the silence to continue once more. Wilbur should’ve expected this when he decided he wasn’t going to sleep. But the nurse removing some of the blankets whilst biting her lip caught his attention. Why was she removing the blankets?... Oh-oh.
She was taking Fundy back.
Wilbur’s brain screamed at him when he frowned.
Fundy would be out of his care, that would be nice considering he’s been holding a baby here for the past 1 or 2 hours. Or some stupid time like that. Wilbur huffed, blinking the glare away from his eyes. He shouldn’t care if the nurse is taking Fundy back. Fundy was just a random fox-child they found in a cliche fucking field of flowers.
Wilbur wasn’t supposed to care about a random kid from the street. Not just a kid - but a BABY off the streets. He wasn't supposed to let anyone care for him in the first place. If someone decided to care for him he'd be a burden. He could still be a burden to a child.
Wilbur finally breathed.
Fundy please, please don't have this bad of a taste in men your entire life. It's going to be dangerous for you.
Wilbur hugged Fundy closer. The content smile on her face making Wilbur's insides shimmer with joy. His smile didn't appear for a moment, but of course it arrived.
Fundy was already making him happy.
God damn it.
He better not get attached.
The nurse's cough is why Wilbur looked away from Fundy. The nurse was standing closer, shuffling her feet with some flower patterned blankets in her hands. Wilbur stopped the anxiety from falling out of his brain. Fundy would be fine. She'll be in better hands than yours.
"Would you want to keep her until she wakes up?"
… What?
"She likes you and you probably aren't going to come back. I just figured it would be nice for Fundy if you were here when she woke up."
A tongue tied Wilbur glanced down to Fundy. It’s the least he could do. Right? He owed them for dealing with his headache and the multiple nights he's spent here. Wilbur also knows from personal experience that dealing with a toddler is hard enough. He couldn’t imagine working all day and dealing with a baby. He bit back a sigh.
Plus Fundy liked him.
Wilbur would've placed his hands on his forehead.
God - she's going to have a bad taste in men. And Wilbur's doing nothing but encouraging that.
"Sure." The nurse blinked and Wilbur could visually see her trying to understand his one word.
Yeah. He didn't expect himself to want to stay any longer either.
"Thank you." The nurses whispers had all been quieter than his. She went ahead and started refolding the blankets she held. Leaving Wilbur's attention to be focused on Fundy.
Luckily for Fundy, Wilbur's smile never left his face. That was until he looked back down to see three dark brown eyes looking right back up at him.
Wilbur remembered laughing a lot that day. Fundy was a trickster. A trickster whose plan was to never let go of the worn hands and, with glowing eyes, he would never leave.
Fundy cried when Wilbur had finally pawed her fingers off of his clothes and was quickly handed to the nurse. Even if the nurse had food, Fundy wanted Wilbur and only Wilbur. The Wilbur who had done nothing but hold her and hum out small tunes. The Wilbur that was warm and safe.
Wilbur didn't have the heart to leave Fundy crying like that. Not for Fundy, but for the workers.
Yeah. Totally Wilbur.
Fundy's crying was preventable and he wasn't going to leave the nurse to deal with that problem. Thus is why he handed his beanie to Fundy and received a grateful look from the nurse.
Wilbur left soon after, happy that he didn't exit the Hospital with a screeching child in his ears. All he left with was a whisper of a promise.
"Could you come back sometime to see Fundy?"
Wilbur returned a few days later with a basket of extra crops, cursing himself out for daring to make a promise to return.
He would insist that the promise was why he returned, no matter how much others insisted it was for Fundy. No matter how he was teased for his smile.
A lady had stood at the back of the Hospital, smiling as she wished another man a good day. Her smile only grew when she saw Wilbur walking up, quickly waving him over.
She spoke words of relief to the much taller man. Speaking about how loud Fundy was and how grateful she was for Wilbur being here. Wilbur didn't feel the need to say anything, instead decided to grin as the woman continued her long line of speech ignoring the dread rising in his stomach.
Wilbur shouldn't care for a baby. He couldn't properly take care of one in the first place. Not that he knew, it was just a suspicion of his that he wouldn't be a good parent. Afterall, Wilbur could barely take care of himself.
Wilbur perked back up when the woman excused herself, saying, and he quotes, "to go get the mischievous devil." Wilbur did his best to stifle his laughter, quietly noting he would have to use that term if he meets Tommy again.
Eventually, as he sat tapping his foot, his grin ran out, arms crossing as the pile of fog upon his mind increased in size. Of course his smile would run away. Wilbur had ran away from it first, his tongue clicked, it was only deserved that it kicked him very painfully to the curb. Karma is a bitch.
Wilbur's grin returned as the women walked back out with the "devil," the small child within the basket cuddled within many different blankets. Her ears flicking and head rising as she tried to survey the newfound world around her.
"Here's your little devil."
Fundy's eyes looked right towards Wilbur and the moment their eyes met the man could swear the girl’s dark brown eyes glowed. A grin splashed upon her face as her arms reached up, waving them forward with grabby hands. And Wilbur blanked, his mind shoving forward the constant reminder of, “don’t get too attached.”
Moments later the fox child had been shoved into his arms by the woman- Wilbur only felt pity for the workers, only reason why he came back to see Fundy- and rushed off and left in a flower field with whispered promises that no one would come here, - besides herself, who would be coming back to check on them.
Only mere moments later did Fundy doze off, some yellow flowers gripping tightly within her hands- paws? Wilbur had glanced down at Fundy's hand-paws, and gave up seconds later. He would not be the one to go down that rabbit hole.
But as soon as Fundy fell to sleep, curled up against Wilbur's stomach. Wilbur's momentary smile was gone in moments as he gagged, sticking out his tongue in disgust. Wilbur didn't like children. Tommy had been bad enough and Wilbur never wanted to find out what a baby is like.
Especially a baby Tommy-ugh!
Sighing, a bitter smile became prevalent on his face before scooping up from yellow and purple flowers, with a few strands of grass.
Wilbur loved his family. Even if Tommy was annoying, even if Techno was silent and usually beat him in everything, even if Phil didn't always act fast enough. Wilbur loved them. He ran away because he cared. They would be better off without him and well- running was better than dying.
Thus Wilbur left, having constantly glanced behind him with every step and the shouts of his mind encouraging him another step from home.
"You'll be better. They'll be better. They can do just fine without you there. So go."
Wilbur loosely weaved the materials together. Techno liked flower crowns - or at least liked his brothers making crowns of any form for him. Not that he’d ever admit that. Tommy enjoyed making flower crowns, claiming one of his friends had always crafted flower crowns and taught Tommy how to make them. But Tommy certainly made them appeal to Techno when he weaved golden nuggets into the flower crowns.
Would foxes like gold too?
Brown, watery eyes look down to Fundy, the fox hybrid still looking as peaceful as before. He placed his hand on her forehead, his bitter smile still on his face.
“I’m an idiot.”
Wilbur returned a few days later, dragging his feet along as he arrived at the back of the Hospital. He had no food in tow and no promise to return, just a loud sigh as he glared at the teasing smiles. No excuse to return to the Hospital besides Fundy. Through a lot of self questioning and doubt, Wilbur had decided he would come to see Fundy once more.
And he returned multiple times after that - each time he scoffed and thought not very kind words, - with no reason to return besides Fundy. He attempted to avoid the worker's proud gazes everytime he returned, choosing to let himself be distracted by Fundy's glowing gaze that radiated joy.
He liked the kid. Wilbur grew attached by the end of the second day. A sad smile meant to be comforting splattered on his face once he handed a crying Fundy to the nurse with an unspoken promise.
Fundy is cute. Foxes were already quite interesting and mischievous creatures. But Fundy took that intelligence and stomped around with it.
Over the next 5 visits those mischievous, intelligent moments always made him laugh. Patting Fundy's head with words of encouragement to her mischievous nature. A smile on his face as Fundy stood and wagged her tail around whilst Wilbur sputtered out words of encouragement with a grin lining his face, a bittersweet, warm and familiar emotion rattling his chest.
The warm feeling filled his chest. The same feeling he got when Phil said he did well. The same feeling he got when he beat Techno at fencing. The same feeling he got when Tommy came to him for help sneaking to Tubbo’s house and when they succeeded and- and when Tubbo told Wilbur that he was the best brother someone could ever ask for, and the feeling grew when Tommy started sputtering and stating the exact opposite.
A goofy grin was left on Wilbur’s face each time, a grin glowing of pride.
Wilbur dwelled on how proud he was later. A frown on his face as he thought back to it. Most of the workers had stepped away, - they chose to share their words later, - and let Wilbur experience Fundy standing for the first time. They had waited outside for Fundy and the fox’s glowing brown eyes as they smothered her with words of confidence. Some sent knowing grins at the two of them, some held cautious lines to their faces and glared with untrusting eyes.
They grew attached to Fundy too, all wanting the best for Fundy. Even Wilbur understood Fundy couldn't stay here. If anyone found out the Hospital held and is raising a hybrid child, they would be shunned and shut down. Wilbur has heard their stressed words and whispers of conversation over Fundy, people were already suspecting that the Hospital had stolen a child. Wilbur had never been more disappointed in humanity. Sighed and said how stupid it the mere concept was and left it there, not wanting to go on about how stupid the concept was to people who probably understood it better.
Wilbur ruffled Fundy's orange fur as he sat upon a hospital bed. A smile on his face as Fundy's ears twitched. Fundy hadn't been that bad for Wilbur either. She still seemed to really like him and would continue having a horrible taste in men. Her near invisible whiskers flicked as she curled up closer to Wilbur.
That's when the nurse entered, standing with confidence and held a board at her side.
"You should adopt Fundy."
Wilbur choked on his own spit.
He was such a hypocrite. His mind claws to the borders to find a reason to say why he wouldn’t want to adopt Fundy. All the while he chose to treat Fundy as his own; supposedly his instincts getting the best of him or Wilbur just wasn’t thinking. He only had considered the thought of Fundy being his family once, only for half a second as he immediately threw the idea out the window.
No way could Wilbur ever be responsible for a child. But Wilbur always was impulsive.
Still he paused with a thoughtful expression, the pause wouldn’t have been enough time for anyone to be confident.
Maybe his impulsive side is why he said "yes." His reasonable side jumping out a window and leaving Wilbur to his stupid, stupid decisions.
He wasn't fucking fit to care for a child but he said yes.
When Wilbur woke up, he wasn’t sure if he got any sleep.
But, he thought about how happy Fundy would be, with her glowing eyes and cheerful, childlike nature. Her mischievous actions are something Wilbur would have to discover more about and deal with. This allowed him to get one hour of sleep at most. Then he woke back up to reality with a sinking feeling in his stomach.
He had a child to prepare for.
He had a fucking child to prepare for.
This… He had a child to prepare for. By himself. In his own house. And there wasn’t a Philza around taking in another child. This was Wilbur, - Wilbur, - adopting a random child that was found in a flower patch- field- whatever it’s called, - and Wilbur would be preparing for a child.
Not like he even had experience! Phil had always taken them up off the street with no prior knowledge whatsoever. How the fuck are you supposed to prepare for a child? Or baby, or whatever. There wouldn’t be much of a difference, Fundy is a fox. Fundy should be a baby for a bi-
Oh god, he had never taken care of a baby.
Wilbur proceeded to stop another panic attack, eyes widening as he glanced up at the clock. He had to be there at 8 PM, on the spot, and they would do all the stupid paperwork and Fundy would be his daughter. He bit back a cough.
I am so stupid.
Wilbur grabbed everything whilst controlling his shaking breath. Besides baby food since the Hospital would be giving that to him and Fundy would be coming straight home. He wasn’t dizzy, Wilbur looked to the door and finally took a breath. He wasn’t dizzy. But after double checking his list and checking his cabinets for any alcohol for the 10th time, it was 7 PM. The sun was at its wreckoning. Falling over the edge of Wilbur’s skyline in colors of oranges, reds, and blues. Sadly most of the tree obscured his vision from the sun’s demise, but even from the edges Wilbur stared in awe from his wooden shack of a house.
Small n’ nice, it worked, and would have enough space for Fundy and himself. The crib could easily fit in the room with him and there was enough space in his room for a small bed next to his own.
Wilbur walked up to the door, the feeling of pride in his chest. He had thought throughout the day and decided to take this with pride and be a good Father for Fundy. And by god, he may have been clumsy, oblivious, and made stupid mistakes throughout his life, but he didn’t want to correct this one. Fundy made him happy, happy in the ways Phil had described many times in response to why he adopted 2 children off the streets.
“You and Techno are my sons. You make me so happy. Never once have I ever regretted meeting you both.” Cold tears had him blinking frantically, hands flying against his cheeks to remove the cursed insight into his mind.
Wilbur breathed, squeezing his eyes shut and a hand squeezing the doorknob.
“Fuck you, Phil.”
Wilbur stepped out of his house- and the weight of the world fell. His breath hitched, eyes widening- quickly turning around- bang!
Air entered the lungs of a man whose shaking hand held the door shut. Closing his eyes, reminding himself as to why he was leaving, why he made the impulsive, stupid decsision to leave, and Fundy’s excited eyes. Breathing with familiar, repetitive movements and a ghost of small hands wrapped around fingers, Wilbur stepped forward.
“You can do this, you can do this.”
He whispered twisted words of encouragement the entire way, unfortunately having to take a longer route due to the hospital requesting Fundy’s adoption to stay quiet for a few weeks. They desired to cover their tracks, people couldn’t find out they had been hiding a hybrid child, at least in this village. The hospital was too important and couldn’t be burnt down without severe consequences; it was the only hospital in the area.
Oh god - he would have to protect Fundy too. She’s a hybrid, fox hybrid in THIS town! Wilbur’s hand ran through his hair. Fuck, fuck, fuck.
Wilbur could defend himself and Fundy and run if needed. Right? Wilbur could defend himself, he'd fought , - ran, - many times before. But now it was with a baby and with a few extra bags to carry along with a baby. Possible. Definitely possible- Yep! Just - he would have to prioritize! That was easy enough! Wilbur had nothing special besides the few beanies- how much can I carry?
Wilbur’s feet tapped nervously on the wooden floor of the small office with his chest curling in upon himself. His hands stuck in his hair as he yanked on his hair and he barely pulled breath into his chest, eyes locked onto the splinters and lines upon the wooden table. All the while words blew up snowstorms within his head.
“It’ll b-be fine,” Wilbur breathed in, his words being laced with sarcasm, “it’ll all be fine Wil.” He bit his lip.
He was nervous. He was anxious- he’d always been anxious. Even since his younger days anxiety was always a step behind his every choice and action. Second guessing himself, always wondering whether it was the correct choice or not. Waiting with a knot sitting in the back of his throat. Waiting for the others' reactions. Anyone’s reaction and in hopes that he didn’t make the incorrect choice.
This time the reaction would be from a baby. A baby could not determine if a choice was correct or not. All it does is cry and eat and sleep and live a blissfully, unaware life until it grows up. Fundy couldn’t have an opinion - couldn’t point out how bad Wilbur’s idea was or advise him that maybe adopting a child on a whim isn’t a good choice. She can’t and Wilbur’s still adopting her anyways.
“Fine- Fine Wilbur. You can mess up- it’ll be fine!” One of Wilbur’s hands tore out some hair.
It’ll be fine, he knew it. Or it can be fine. It can be fine- it can all go well if he made sure this was the correct choice. Wilbur loved Fundy. The baby is one of the cuter things Wilbur has seen and - Wilbur guessed he was like Phil. Picking up orphans off the street on a whim, taking them in and giving them a life. Giving them a chance to succeed in life.
Fundy deserved a chance at a life. Wilbur doubted he was the only option. No doubt there were better options within their community, Wilbur was aware of a few who stood for hybrid rights. They could’ve taken Fundy. Wilbur was younger and less experienced than the rest of them.
Why did he say yes?
He jumped, being pulled from his thoughts as the door creaked open, a small knock followed and Wilbur saw the nurse enter the room with a pile of papers. The nurse smiled, as she always did. “Mr. Soot?” Wilbur sighed, frowning at the pile of paperwork in her arms. Was there really going to be this much paperwork?
Spite his annoyance, Wilbur sat up- still biting his lip and taking a deep breath. “Yes?” Wilbur smiled. All for the little bundle of orange. All for Fundy.
“You’ll be needing to fill out this paperwork. This paperwork will confirm that Fundy is not any form of hybrid and that you, Wilbur Soot, are to be Fundy’s legal guardian.” Wilbur didn’t feel air enter his body.
The nurse set the paperwork down, sliding a pen to Wilbur before sitting across the table from Wilbur. The Wilbur who grabbed the pen and squeezed it. The Wilbur who failed and made mistakes and made decisions without thinking - his chest burned and his throat was locked. Wilbur gasped, kicking the nurse’s stare out of his mind to breathe in once more and readjusted the pen in his hand.
Wilbur had said he would adopt Fundy. He nodded to the nurse, pulling the relatively small pile of paperwork towards himself. He breathed deeply again. He could do this. He promised to himself and to Fundy. He had too. Even if this could be a terrible mistake.
His shaky hands and nervous eyes read over and signed the paperwork. Pausing at some moments to breath. To process that he was adopting a child. Just as Phil had done multiple times. He really did take after Phil, didn’t he? Wilbur chuckled, setting the pen down to paper and sighing another sheet. Only to flip the page and read the next paper, replicating what he’d done before with ease.
“You seem as if you’ll be a good father.” Wilbur coughed. Instantly looking up to the nurse who spoke her words to quiet obviously be heard. What the fuck did she just say?
She held a serious expression, letting her smile fade away. “You care for Fundy. No one else would take in someone like her.” Wilbur was still blinking, the pen now bouncing between his fingers. “You’re kind enough to give her a life. Everyone here thanks you for that. From what I’ve seen, you seem responsible and knowledgeable. I would’ve never asked you to adopt Fundy if I didn’t believe you couldn’t take good care of her."
“...Really?” Wilbur questioned after a moment, his voice becoming a whisper. The nurse nodded with the grin back on her face.
“You are the best option for Fundy. I hope you can take good care of her and give her the life she deserves.” The words flew from her mouth with pride and confidence, eyes ignited and ready to defend her statement dare he challenge her.
The pen now tapped against the table. The tapping being a reassuring sound to keep his mind from wandering and aware that they were here. Signing a fucking paper to adopt Fundy. Now being told that he’d be a good father? That he is someone to stand up and give Fundy the world she can strive in?
Tap-tap-tap, the noise quickened.
Why did the nurse believe this? Wilbur couldn’t. Couldn’t believe that he’d make a good parent. How could someone else believe this?
“You try. That’s already better than others.”
Wilbur perked up. That’s why? Because Wilbur had chosen to care? “How?” The anxiety bubbled from his mouth, only one word escaping before he started struggling to grasp his anxiety back.
“No one else would care for an orphaned hybrid in this town. Fundy was left alone with an intent. I could tell we found her on a miracle, whoever left Fundy out there wanted her to die. Anyone in this town would decide to let Fundy die. Save her from the eventual misery in life she’d face due to being a hybrid. We were planning to leave Fundy for dead.” The tapping stopped. “So thank you for adopting Fundy. Thank you for giving her a chance at life.”
They were going to kill Fundy?
He squeezed the pen in his hand, a glare itching it’s way into his expression. They were going to kill Fundy because she’s a hybrid. She’d grow up shunned in this society if discovered- lucky if she wasn’t killed- they didn’t discriminate- they wouldn’t care if Fundy was just a baby. Wilbur stiffened- if he wasn’t adopting Fundy she’d be dead.
“Please understand that we didn’t have anywhere else to take her-” Wilbur looked back down, going back to reading. Unable to take the glare off of his face, he focused on the next page of countless words. Ignoring the dying words of the nurse as his chest swirled with pain and anxiety’s nails clawed at his throat.
Fundy would be dead if he hadn’t said yes.
Fuck. Fuck. His hand held up his head, breathing pausing with brown eyes locked onto the words, unable to focus and process the words set in front of him.
If he said no, Fundy would be dead.
Wilbur gave a grimace at the slight taste of blood. He curled his lips in and bit his lip again.
He’s giving Fundy a chance at life.
Breathing in, he smiles, signing the paper and flipping to the next page. “I understand.” Wilbur didn’t look up.
The papers slid over to the Nurse, Wilbur quietly placing the pen atop the pile. “Thank you.” She spoke and picked up the papers. The man quietly nodded, keeping his eyes onto the lines of the wooden table. Ears alert, tense as he listened to the nurse walking away with the door creaking shut with a small, dying squeak.
Hacking out a cough, the noise dying quicker than the door shut, Wilbur ran his hands through his hair and pulled off his beanie in the process. Taking in a shaky breath he laughed. He just adopted a fucking child with a lot less paper work than anticipated and he just adopted a fucking child in less than a month holy shit he just signed paperwork to adopt Fundy fuck fuck fuck - his arms held his face up, of which was gasping for breath.
“Fuck fuck - Breath- Wilbur breath-” Fuck - he just adopted a kid and could barely breath. How was he supposed to care for a child? He gasped.
Fuck fuck shit fuck - breath. He’d done it before - hands curled into his hair, - multiple times, sometimes alone - usually with the warming presence of another next to him and the bundle of feathers wrapping him in a bubble to where only the whispers of his father’s words could reach his ears. Words of wisdom not escaping the bubble and staying with Wilbur as his hands shook. The warmth of safety settling over him with the invisible hand rubbing circles in his back. And Wilbur breathed. Letting a count of 1,2,3,4,5 repeat in his head, with never forgotten calming words accompanying the count as he breathed.
Opening his eyes he lightly winced, blinking a few times staring at the wood below, constantly being tapped by him, and breathing heavily. Wilbur grinned, “fuck.”
He’s adopting Fundy and Wilbur sighed heavily, doused with a chuckle. Wincing as the pain returned in his lip and he breathed in, 1 - he was adopting a kid - 2 - wasn’t Tommy already enough? - 3 - Fundy was adorable and needed a life - 4 - fuck you Phil - 5 - Wilbur heaved out the breath, groaning as he rubbed his temples.
Fuck - he couldn’t even get the dizziness to fade from his mind, and not daring to acknowledge the why. Blinking, Wilbur chuckled. Fuck. Shit. Breathing wasn’t fucking working - a distraction. Wilbur snapped his fingers. Yes - a distraction would help - the insistent tapping of his finger, the pain in his lip that was still being bit, the moonlight coming through the window, the small noises from outside, oddly enough there were birds? Wilbur usually never heard them out this late and that certainly wasn’t an owl - the door makes a sound too, similar to a bird sometimes. He wondered what the door would sound like when it opened. Would it be the same as when it was closed? A quiet squeak? Would the door scrape across the floor? It could sound like nothing as well- he heard the footsteps before the door opened. Sitting up, Wilbur tried to work a smile onto his face and he really, really hoped it looked half decent as he coughed and bit down his tongue. His hands grasped each other tightly, nervous and glimmering brown eyes watching the door open with a creak.
There the nurse stood, holding a basket in her hands - a basket of Fundy.
She stepped in,“Wilbur,” the kind smile held seemed to be locked upon her face, “thank you.” The basket was sat upon the table and pushed towards the newly found Father, of whom wore a grin - a stupidly happy one and one that was falling as Wilbur smushed the smile back to the best of his ability. That was before he froze, choking on a cough as he pulled the basket closer. The nurse gave a waving gesture, attempting to be encouraging as Wilbur kept choking on his own anxiety.
1 - Wilbur needed to breathe, and he could breathe, and he could look down to the little bundle of Fundy. 2 - His face moved without choice, smiling as he saw her ears flick, her fox face barely poke out of the bundle, the blankets around her helping to keep her in place and a familiar beanie resting behind her head. Even asleep she was a ray of sunshine that took his breath away.
“Oh fuck-” his voice was a mutter, eyes widening and smile turning down for just a moment, “I’m a dad.”
The butterflies flickered in his stomach, the strange emotion running through his body as his grin became 5 times as bright before reverting back down. “Oh fuck I’m a dad.” He turned away, another weak cough escaping his throat. Looking back to Fundy, his smile reached his eyes.
“How does it feel to be a Father?” He jumped, eyes jumping to stare at the forgotten nurse. They wore their own glowing smile too. Eyes wet as they question Wilbur, the both sudden admitting their joy to the other.
Wilbur laughed, “I don’t fucking know.” The nurse laughed as brown eyes went back to the Fundy-Bundle, who still lied there oblivious and peaceful as ever.
“Hi there.” His voice was a whisper and god dang it her ear twitched - had it been twitching this entire time? No one had a clue. “Fundy, ay? I’m your new dad - oh fuck I’m a dad.” The light chuckle was enough to make Fundy move around, but her eyes still stayed shut - good, children need sleep! Especially fast growing hybrid foxes.
Fuck he was a dad now - offically and legally a dad to Fundy. And Fundy was his daughter. And he had a child. He laughed - a child he had adopted.
Fuck. Pride swelled within his chest. He was a dad now. Jeez - Phil was a Grandfather. Tommy a fucking uncle already. Techno was now an uncle. And fuck himself and fuck the dread that rose to the surface because all he wanted to do was go home and brag about Fundy. Brag about he was a Father. Hear their reactions and smile with love and pride for his daughter. Tell everyone how he was a Father and how his And fuck did he want to shout it to the world.
And he reminds himself how this was all for Fundy. Because Fundy deserved to have a life, so fuck all, Wilbur would be a dad and he didn’t need to tell anyone else that. The back of his brain whispers how cool that would be though.
“You’re my daughter and your name is Fundy.” He reached his hand down, leaving his fingers to rest near her small hand. “You’re adorable and I’m going to end up coddling you to death aren’t I?” The light chuckle is enough to cause her to shift again, and as babies do, they grab hands and Wilbur didn’t think it was possible to smile more, but here he was, with a wider smile on his face as Fundy grasped his hand.
Wilbur’s finger curls around her hand, and fuck, his smile was contagious. He was a dad and had adopted a child. He left a promise in that basket and took it with him wherever they went. He’ll carry this promise as far as the basket takes Fundy, then Fundy would take it to his grave.
Wilbur bent down and pressed a kiss to his daughter’s forehead. He lifted his head away from the basket, smiling and- and his face fucking hurt. He lightly laughed, Fundy responding with a light, laughing gesture of her own. Clenching his fists atop the basket handle, Wilbur took his eyes off Fundy and looked up to his small, dingy house with the moon setting long behind them.
“Welcome home my little champion.”