Chapter Text
One of the constants that Wilbur knew was that the world was cold and cruel.
Wilbur had spent his whole life bouncing from foster home to foster home, only to end up on the streets the day after he turned eighteen. Nobody had wanted him, not when he was a problem child. Too loud, too much anxiety, too many questions— they didn’t want that. They wanted a perfect child that would listen and sit there and look pretty when they had friends over.
That was never Wilbur. He would rather be cast aside than become that, so he was. And after he was on his own for the first time, he began to fend for himself and only himself.
There was kindness in the world too, but Wilbur experienced it in fleeting moments. Sometimes, the pink haired waitress at a diner two blocks away from where Wilbur would camp out would sneak him leftovers when he visited. Niki was her name, but as much as Wilbur would’ve loved to get to know her more, she was busy trying to provide for her and her little brother, and Wilbur didn’t want to bother her with another problem.
Occasionally, someone would tip him extra when he played on the streets and stick around a little longer than the rest. Treat him like he was human and not someone who didn’t even deserve to be looked in the eyes. Wilbur liked that— craved it in fact. It was some semblance of human interaction- which was so painfully rare for him these days. He might’ve had anxiety burning in his chest even on a good day, but the extrovert in him needed to talk to people as much as he needed to breathe.
It was a rough and lonely life, but Wilbur wasn’t ready for the world to take him out yet. He spent his whole life fighting tooth and nail just to exist, and he would be damned if he didn’t make it to a point in his life where he finally had some stability. A job, friends, a warm and safe place to sleep at night- he ached for it and even on the most cold and bitter nights, it kept him going.
For years, Wilbur survived off of spite and determination, as well as whatever he could manage to scrape together.
And then there was Tommy.
It was nearing the end of fall and closing in on winter when Wilbur had met him. He was sitting outside one of the places that let him perform during the day, singing a few popular songs in an attempt to earn a few extra bucks. Most walked by, a couple paused to listen to his music before they passed, but Wilbur did have a few bucks left in his guitar case to show for it so it wasn’t a loss.
So Wilbur initially didn’t think much of it when a teenager stopped to listen. He kept his eyes down, singing softly as he strummed a familiar tune and let himself get lost in the music.
It took him around two songs to realize the teenager had been standing there for a long time. Longer than most would anyways. At most, someone might listen to the end of the song, politely leave a dollar or two, then go on their way. This kid showed no sign of leaving and was staring directly at him when he looked up.
He had to be around fifteen if Wilbur had to guess. He had a puffy, red coat on with a green scarf tied around his neck and a bandaid on his nose. His eyes were bright blue and unwavering, and when the sun hit his hair, it looked like it was made of gold.
Wilbur raised an eyebrow at him curiously. “Enjoying the show?”
The teenager squinted at him, scrunching up his face like he was deciding right then and there. Then gave a firm nod of approval, as if he were some critic of the arts himself and his word was law.
It almost made Wilbur laugh, but he held it back, opting for a pleased smile instead. “I’m glad.”
“Do you take requests?” The teenager blurts out at last.
“Sure, if you’re willing to tip.” Wilbur waved a hand over his guitar case.
He had been mostly joking but to his surprise, the teenager began to dig through his pockets before pulling out a dollar and dropping it in the case. He then turned to Wilbur, grinning from ear to ear and announced, “Do you know the Able Sisters Theme? From Animal Crossing?”
“That’s a video game, isn’t it?” The teenager nodded eagerly. “Haven’t played many of those so as much as I hate to say it, no. I’m not familiar.”
The teenager frowned, and Wilbur could see the gears turning in his head. “Well… If I hummed it for you, would you be able to play it?”
Wilbur considered that, then shrugged. “Worth a shot. How does it go?”
The teenager began to hum an upbeat tune. It was a little difficult to follow at first but hesitantly, Wilbur began to copy it to the best of his ability. Judging from the beaming look in his eye, the teenager was more than happy with his efforts, and Wilbur began to play more confidently.
When the song was over, the teenager was full of newfound energy Wilbur hadn’t seen in him before. “That was amazing!” The teenager told him excitedly. “So fucking cool!”
“I try.” Wilbur tried to remain humble but his pride had not felt this high in a long time, and he couldn’t help but revel in it. “Any other requests?”
The teenager opened his mouth, then abruptly paused. “Hold on,” he told Wilbur, then dug a phone out of his pocket and stared at the screen for a moment. His smile fell. “Shit. My dad’s worried about me, I gotta get home before he gets a heart attack or something. He’s old and fragile, you know?”
Wilbur couldn’t help but feel disappointed. The kid was his most active participant in months- maybe longer. But, all good things eventually came to an end. Wilbur knew that better than anybody.
“Do you do this often or..?” The teenager spoke up, catching Wilbur’s attention.
“Most mornings and afternoons, you can find me here.” Wilbur confirmed.
“Fuck yeah.” His grin returned. “I’m Tommy by the way.”
“Wilbur.”
“Wilbur— got it! See you around, yeah?”
Wilbur waved Tommy off, watching him leave. As cold as it was, Wilbur couldn’t find it in him to care. Some kid liked his music— paid to hear him play and might even return in fact. That felt good.
Wilbur had something to look forward to the coming week. That was new.
—
True to his word, Tommy returned two days later, holding a fistful of wrinkled dollar bills in one hand and a list of song requests with the other, ranging from a few popular songs to a couple Wilbur had never even heard of. Nonetheless, he indulged Tommy each time, playing songs he was unfamiliar with by following Tommy’s hum or whatever instrumental Tommy pulled up on his phone.
It was nice. Wilbur hadn’t had this good of company in far too long. He missed being treated like a person, not a problem or an obstacle in the road. Like he was worthy of attention.
With one last dollar in hand, Tommy skimmed his list before a frown formed on his face. “That was all of my ideas. Must’ve counted wrong when I was taking money out.”
“You could repeat one?” Wilbur suggests. Tommy doesn’t respond to that, squinting as if he’s deep in thought.
“Do you have any songs?” Tommy asks at last. “Like, songs that you made?”
Wilbur nods. Tommy deposits the last dollar into his guitar case and nods at him. “Play one of them.”
That gets him to hesitate. He’s never actually played any of his songs in front of people before. They haven’t been perfected yet, Wilbur’s still in the beta stages of creating them.
But Tommy looks at him expectantly and… He’s as good of an audience as any.
So Wilbur plays. His fingers loosen up the longer he strums, feelings flooding back to him and overriding the nerves keeping him from singing. His voice comes out a bit quieter than he intends but it’s enough that Tommy can hear him. It’s a song just for the two of them to hear.
When it ends, Wilbur doesn’t look up. He doesn’t know what he’ll see, what Tommy will say about one of the songs he poured his heart into. Regret hits him, causing his throat to feel tight to the point where he can’t breathe—
“That was amazing, Wilbur!” His eyes snap open, catching the excited gaze of Tommy. “Good shit! Genuine shit— I liked it a lot!”
Relief floods his chest, leaving Wilbur breathless. He can’t bring himself to say anything, he just smiles and tries not to kneel over and collapse right then and there.
He liked it.
He liked it.
Wilbur spent ages agonizing over his music, eventually growing so numb to how it sounded that he felt like tearing his hair out. But this kid barely knows him and he says he likes it and—
That means something.
His music may not be such a lost cause as he felt it was after all.
—
Wilbur figured that Tommy would get bored and move on soon enough but is pleasantly surprised when he visits regularly. Sometimes with more requests and what Wilbur assumes his allowance in hand, and sometimes he just listens to whatever Wilbur plays and keeps him company.
Wilbur offers to play for Tommy for free but he insists on paying him anyway. If Wilbur weren’t tight on money, he might’ve pushed harder but Tommy’s contribution alone has kept him consistently with warm food in his belly for once, and Wilbur isn’t quite ready to give that up yet.
He has started to see him outside of his usual place too. Luckily nowhere near where Wilbur camps out, because as much as he enjoys Tommy’s company, he doesn’t need the pity, but sometimes when he’s out getting meals or a warm drink. Tommy will often plop himself down without asking if he can and start talking to him while he eats. Had it been anyone else, Wilbur might’ve been annoyed, but it’s endearing with Tommy. He listens to every word, regardless if his rant makes sense or not.
Tommy has a lot to say, and slowly, Wilbur learns more about him and his life. He’s in High School and talks about his friends Tubbo and Ranboo quite a bit. He has a father and older brother who worry about him all the time and goes on a rant about how he’s not a baby anymore, but a big man. There’s some sort of ‘Family Legacy’ he’s meant to take on one day but Tommy fails to elaborate what exactly that is other than he’s gonna be the ‘Big Man in charge’ one day. He also goes on a long winded rant about highland cows for two hours alone.
Wilbur doesn’t really know why Tommy chooses to hang around him of all people, but the more they hang out, the less he questions it. Tommy becomes a constant in his life and Wilbur accepts it.
He’s tried to buy him food before as a sort of ‘Thank you’ for giving him half the funds he has but somehow, Tommy always ends up buying him something. Says he has funds to spare and Wilbur doesn’t have to worry about a thing. He’s given up in trying to talk him out of it.
It felt perfect. Like Tommy wormed his way in a place in his heart and filled a space he hadn’t known he was missing. Like he’s almost family.
And then it all changes on one shitty morning.
Most people ignore Wilbur where he camps out, never looking at him in the eyes as they pass. He’s dealt with that for a long time so it doesn’t bother him anymore, but occasionally, some asshole will take one look at him and see him as an easy target to take their anger out on.
Wilbur wakes up to ice cold water splashed in his face. He flails, alarmed by the sudden sensation and is immediately left with jeering laughter overwhelming his newly awoken senses and snaps his head to where it originates. He’s met with a bunch of lengthy teenagers with cruel grins and malicious glints in their eyes.
They don’t stick around for long but one of them breaks one of the poles in his tent as another spits insults at him, calling him ‘Pathetic’ and ‘Lazy’ and a ‘Crazy junkie’ as well as plenty of other dehumanizing terms. They leave as quickly as they arrive, snatching some of the money in his guitar case, leaving Wilbur fuming in place and barely keeping his cool. Blowing up at them will only put him in a bad light, so he keeps his mouth shut and begins wiping the water off of his face.
“…Wilbur?”
Then he hears a familiar voice and he freezes. Slowly, he looks up and immediately wishes he were anywhere else but here.
Tommy stares at him, eyes wide with shock. Wilbur looks away, fists tightening at his sides before he lets out a huff and begins to try and make himself look more presentable.
“Tommy.” He greets shortly. “Good morning.”
“Wilbur, what the fuck just happened? Who were those shitheads— and why didn’t you tell them off?” Anger twists in his voice. “Don’t just sit there- or do you want me to go knock them out for you? Y’know, Techno has been training me lately and I’ve got a mean right hook that’ll knock them the fuck out and into next Tuesday!”
“Tommy, it’s fine.” Wilbur tells him before he can do anything rash. It only serves to make Tommy scoff.
“Fine? Fine? Wilbur, nothing about that was fucking fine. Those fucking—” Tommy trails off with a frustrated noise, a string of curses following that Wilbir only half hears. Then, there’s a beat of silence before he asks, “Why are you sleeping in a tent anyways? Is this some sort of… Musician thing? Immersing yourself with the city or some shit?”
Wilbur squeezes his eyes shut.
“…Wilbur?” Another beat. “Wilbur, are you homeless?”
“Yes.” Wilbur snaps. He doesn’t mean to and he knows Tommy doesn’t mean it like that but it feels scathing. People have always looked down upon him whenever they knew he was homeless. It burns him up thinking about how that could shatter the one reliable relationship he has. “But I’m doing perfectly fine for myself.”
“Wilbur—”
“I want to be alone right now, Tommy.”
Wilbur finally looks up and meets the fire burning in Tommy’s eyes. He can tell there’s a fight in him— so much more to say— but nothing comes out. He looks away first, giving a short nod, and is gone before Wilbur knows it.
And Wilbur is left alone. Like he wanted.
And he’s never felt worse.
—
Tommy doesn’t bring it up next time he sees him. He acts as if nothing happened and Wilbur… Doesn’t know how to feel about that.
It feels like it’s hanging in the air and over Wilbur’s head, an invisible blade just waiting to strike but hasn’t yet. He doesn’t know if he wants to prolong it as long as he can or get it over with already and feel the pain now so he can get it over with.
But there is a change to how Tommy treats him now, even if he doesn’t talk about it. Because Tommy begins tipping him more than ever before.
He slips twenties over to Wilbur any chance he gets, refusing to take them back. He frequently tries to give Wilbur gifts— little things at first like new guitar picks before adding up to a whole new blanket, where Wilbur finally puts his foot down and makes Tommy take it back.
He doesn’t like this change but he doesn’t know how to go back. Not without talking to him.
Which leaves him with only one choice.
“Tommy,” Wilbur finally says, sitting him down at the diner he frequents. Niki just served them their drinks and had given Wilbur a warm greeting before returning to her work. “I know what you’re trying to do and I want you to stop.”
Tommy shifts in his seat. “Stop what?” He asks, but he’s poor at keeping a poker face. It’s obvious he knows exactly what Wilbur is talking about.
He sighs deeply. “The gifts, Tommy.”
“What, I can’t give people I care about gifts now? I’ll have you know my language of caring or whatever is gift giving. I do this to everyone!”
“But you’ve been excessive about it to me ever since you learned I was homeless.” Wilbur narrows his eyes and sees Tommy’s demeanor begin to crack. “I’m twenty years old, Tommy. I can take care of myself. I don’t need you to try and provide for me.”
“But— those two dickheads— you just let them fuck with you!” Tommy’s voice raises to a shout. Wilbur has to quiet him down with a hush.
“They were dicks but they don’t matter in the long run. They don’t mean anything— I’m fine anyhow. I fixed my tent.”
“Are they the only ones who have ever done that sort of thing?” Tommy challenges. “Do they just push you around or has anyone ever gotten violent with you?”
Wilbur doesn’t answer. Tommy reads in between the lines and clenches his fists so hard that his knuckles turn white.
“It’s not fucking right. They shouldn’t get to treat you like that! Not without getting some fucking karma for it!”
“Tommy, reacting to people like that will only make things worse for me. There’s nothing you can do.”
Tommy looks away from him, anger palpable from where Wilbur is sitting. Wilbur manages to change the topic and get in a decent conversation through the rest of the meal but Tommy ends up heading straight home after they leave.
Wilbur watches him walk away with a huff. Tommy’s a good kid but he doesn’t get what the world is really like. Wilbur knows just how cruel it can be and won’t be tricked into false hope.
He knows better than to believe in good things with no conditions.
—
The next day, Wilbur sits himself in his usual spot and just begins one of his songs when Tommy shows up. He’s pleasantly surprised that there’s a skip in his step.
“Tommy,” Wilbur gives him a nod, “What’s got you so chipper?”
“Wilbur, how would you feel about dinner with my family at my place?” Tommy asks, eyes holding a fire brighter than they’ve ever been.
Wilbur finds himself choking in surprise. “What?”
“Dinner! With my Dad and Techno!” Tommy repeats, grinning from ear to ear. “Later tonight or tomorrow if you’re busy.”
Wilbur states, slowly processing his words to make sure he’s hearing him right. “You… Want me to meet your family?”
“Yes! I’ve been talking about you a lot and Dad said you should come over so he could properly meet you! Plus he’s a fucking god at cooking so he’s gonna make dinner.” Tommy then briefly drops his smile and gives Wilbur a serious look. “You’re important to me so I want you to meet my family. I know you said I can’t do anything about your situation but I can at least introduce you to a few more people who will root for you, yeah?”
Wilbur blinks in surprise at his honesty, then lets out a short laugh. “You really think they’ll like me?”
“No fucking shit. I like you and they’re just as batshit as me so ‘course they’ll like you.”
“Batshit?” Wilbur echoes, another laugh bubbling to his chest. “What exactly am I getting into?”
Tommy grins again. “Is that a yes?”
He looks so hopeful that Wilbur can’t seem to find a single reason to say no. “Yeah, sure. I can do tonight.”
Tommy lets out a victory cheer. “I’ll go tell my Dad to start preparing the food now— he’s gonna make us a feast!”
Tommy nearly leaves but backtracks and hands Wilbur a small handwritten invitation, bearing an address and time to show up. Then he scampers off and Wilbur can’t help but laugh at just how excited the kid is.
Wilbur reads the invitation over a few times, feeling something warm sprout in his chest. It feels like a breath of fresh air— or a new beginning.