Long Live L'Manberg

Chapter 37: Square One

A jagged stalactite dangled over top of the leftover cheesecloth blanket that Tommy rested on the following night. Murky liquid oozed off its tip, dribbling down onto the sleeping boy. The droplets of water splashed onto his nose, abruptly awakening him from a rather restless night's sleep. His eyes snapped open, recoiling in disgust as he rolled out of the way, only to find himself soaking wet in a puddle of brown water.

"I take it you didn't sleep well," Wilbur teased, broom in hand as he swept away the last of the rubble that lay on the staircase. Tommy shook himself off, water flying in every direction. He craned his neck to get a good look at the stone walls, now polished and clean. The flames of freshly-lit torches cast a soft, welcoming glow across the cave, a small but crucial detail in making their shelter feel a bit more like home. Weeds, dirt, and other debris were torn up and swept into a pile by the steps. The ravine seemed a lot more polished since the last time he had seen it. Morning sunlight peaked through the cracks of the roof, signaling the start of a new day. Wilbur walked over in his direction, Tommy taking note of the dark bags under his eyes. "Were you up all night?"

Wilbur gave a breathy laugh as he removed his overcoat, hanging it on a nearby rock. He swiped the dirt off of his hands before a brief yawn escaped his lungs. "Is it that obvious?"

The blonde got to his feet, brushing the dirt off of his knees from the night before. He crumpled his blanket into a hasty ball and tossed it to the side, earning a dirty look from Wilbur in response. Sheepishly, Tommy folded it up and placed it on one of the rock platforms by the stairs.

"You know," Wilbur began picking at the moss along the walls, "you're quite the snorer." Tommy rolled his eyes in response, throwing on his overcoat as he began to button it from the bottom up. "Shut it."

"I'm shocked no one found us with all the noise you made," Wilbur chaffed.

"Cut it out!" laughed Tommy as he jammed his hat on, wandering toward the staircase. "I'm going out to find food."

"Like hell you are," Wilbur's tone shifted into something more forbidding. Overbearing and protective- a side someone with Tommy's defiance levels couldn't bear to endure. "It hasn't even been twenty-four hours since we got exiled. We're still fugitives by law, Tommy." He used his sleeve to sweep away a cobweb that lurked within the cracks. "You'd be foolish to go out there alone."

Tommy impatiently snorted, screwing up his face to express his frustration. "Well...yeah, but-"

"No buts, Tommy," Wilbur snapped. "I've already lost so much, I don't need to lose you too."

Tommy folded his arms, biting back his bitterness. Contradicting Wilbur was no easy task considering how headstrong and defensive he could be at times. Deep down, he knew Wilbur was only being strict to keep both of them out of harm's way, but hadn't he done enough to earn his trust?

"Wilbur, please. We're a team. You can't just do everything yourself!"

Wilbur was silent for a moment, letting the situation marinate in his overactive mind. He had trained him for this. Tommy was very self-sufficient for his age, much more so than Fundy. He was less malleable, less likely to be manipulated, and knew how to defend himself in the face of danger. Wilbur had lived up to Phil's expectations and did his best to enforce good decision-making skills onto his kid brother. However, with Tommy's unpredictable and impulsive nature, it was not an easy decision. He sucked the corner of his cheek in, allowing himself to think it through. As he exhaled, he turned around to meet Tommy, a worried expression enveloping his tired eyes.

"Fine, but stay close," he tossed him the keys to the main door and turned his back, continuing to light up the surrounding area. Tommy grinned with delight as he caught the keyring and proceeded to climb the lengthy staircase all the way to the top of the ravine. In a hurry, he twisted the main door handle and flung it outwards, the sweet smell of morning dew tingling his senses. The sun beat down on the lush grass, the occasional overgrown weed scattered along the walkway. The ground was still mushy from the night before, but it was nothing his boots couldn't withstand. He snatched a wooden bow and a couple of stray arrows and headed out the doorway.