Wilbur hadn't moved a single inch towards the people kneeling next to the vigilante (the person responsible for his recurring nightmares, the person to have sent him to his personal hell at the ripe age of twenty). Eret was still working, though he could see the exhaustion in their eyes, their body already slumping down a little as the faint glow around their hands continued. Tubbo and Tommy still sat kneeling next to the young teen, the blonde having put his friend's head in his lap, controlling the breathing and pulse. His hands had still been uncovered, the leaves he held prior discarded in the snow. Nothing happened, his subconscious not wanting the young teen to get hurt and therefore held his power at bay.
The brunette had taken to wrapping up all visible gashes and injuries in soaked bandages, the empty flask which had been filled with a healing potion prior to sitting next to them in the snow. The wrapping was sloppy, blood had already seeped through some of the bandages despite the healer's energy and the potion, and they could see his shaking hand (could see the tears running down the young hero's face).
Phil wore a conflicted expression, clearly not having been prepared for a confrontation between his son's murderer and them, clearly not prepared for the vigilante to be a kid as well. Truly, how many literal child vigilantes were out there? First Tommy, then Crumb and now Void? It was already questionable for the corporation to have sent Tubbo out on patrols, even if there was always at least one adult, fully-fledged hero with him. But that was the corporation, and they already knew that something was deeply wrong with the corporation and the way they viewed powered individuals (especially those with classified powers, such as their own).
His wings twitched with every movement the three people in front of him did, offering support in the teen's aid nonetheless. A kid. Another godforsaken kid. They couldn't be older than Tommy or Tubbo either, and yet they had already been through the hard work of people who had specifically been trained to handle highly dangerous situations. Had definitely been injured by the work many times before with very little resources and support.
Of course, Void had had this training. The way Wilbur reacted and the way Tubbo spoke about the academy's training despite never having attended the hero academy was more than enough proof. This was Ender and he was a child.
Gods help him.
"We need to get him inside," Eret muttered under their breath, hands now no longer glowing as they exhaled deeply, "it's too cold, and his clothes are already wet, with his condition the cold might send him into shock."
Phil was pretty sure that had already happened but nodded nonetheless. Was he a fan of harbouring the person who had killed his son? Absolutely not. But he understood that this was Tommy's and Tubbo's friend, perhaps even best friend, and the way the brunette had glared at him during the meeting made it more than clear that they were protective of him. He glanced over at Wilbur, the brunette's expression unreadable, form still rigid. Pursing his lips a little, the Elytrian then made a small chirrup, a Flock call which caught the man's attention immediately. Their eyes met, and they had a quiet conversation with looks alone.
Are you okay with this?
No.
"Phil?" Tommy's voice was shaking, "could you?" The teen then gestured to Void's unconscious form, silently begging the man to carry him inside.
"He'll need more potions," Eret said, still a little out of breath as they shakily got to their feet, "there's- I can't explain it, there's too much energy in his body but then also too little, he's weak but also not. It doesn't make sense."
The older blonde's expression was conflicted, and he looked at the pleading face of his son before looking back at the brunette. A moment of quiet eye contact, too many emotions to count swirling in hazel eyes before the brunette nodded curtly and then turned around on the spot, marching inside the house.
"Internal injuries?"
"Possibly," the man muttered as Phil quickly hoisted the unconscious teenager into his arms, his limbs awkwardly arranging themselves in his hold. They swiftly walked inside, the two conscious teenagers shaking and Tubbo supporting a still-weak Eret. Once inside they came face to face with Techno and Wilbur, the former leading the latter firmly towards the stairs, out of the living room and away from everybody.
There was hate in his eyes, a lot of it, Phil noted. But there was also fear and grief and so many more he couldn't identify. Techno's eyes were filled with worry and quiet rage, eyes lingering on the unconscious teen for just a tad too long before pulling the man further upstairs.
The rest of the group didn't pay them much attention, too busy caring about the young vigilante (which had been way too light in the older man's humble opinion), leading them towards one of the sofas of the living room. He gently sat the teen down, feathers bristling before swiftly walking back outside to get to the med kit. They'd need a proper doctor, Eret was only able to do so much, and it was clear that they had already gotten to their limit. Whatever it was that resulted in the weak but also too energetic state the teen was in would need someone with proper knowledge about human anatomy, especially if it was true that the state was caused due to too much adrenaline from the body trying to keep itself alive despite internal injuries.
Tubbo and Tommy never left the boy's side, both shaking like leaves in the wind. With the medkit in hands and snow on his shoes, he walked back inside, ignoring the small little wet puddles he left. Above them, footsteps sounded, then the sound of something falling on the floor, loud enough to make almost everyone present flinch. A couple seconds later, Techno appeared in the room again, holding about four regeneration potions and two health potions in hand. His expression was stoic as ever, though Phil could see behind the facade. He was furious.
"Health and Regen," he said, voice ever monotone, "Regen for internal injuries and broken bones, though it'd be better if someone educated would take a look at him."
"I'm not educated enough, unfortunately," the healer muttered as he took the glass vials from the piglin's hands.
"There's not much we can do right now," the Elytrian said grimly, "get him into a stable condition and then to a doctor in L'Manberg or Logstedshire." Eret nodded and carefully opened one of the vials, sniffing before deeming the regeneration potion fit.
"What's this?" Tommy asked quietly as he gestured at the power-suppressing cuff on the teen's wrist.
Eret sucked in a sharp breath. "Power suppressor, we need to get that off immediately!"
"I'd rather it stays on," Techno said sharply, eyes briefly flashing red.
"Are you insane!? That's draining him of his energy! It could very well kill him!" The piglin huffed and crossed his arms, not answering further.
"It's clearly not suppressing his power either," Tubbo exclaimed furious, "he managed to travel here, all it's doing is zapping his energy! Energy he fucking needs to live!"
"I'd rather not have him suck everyone into a deadly void."
"He's unconscious and hurt badly, he wouldn't even be able to use his ability if he wanted to," Tubbo growled. Eret had been fiddling with the vigilante's wrist, trying to pry the bracelet off. It did not budge in the slightest.
"I'd rather not take any chances."
"Techno please." Tommy pleaded. Both men looked at the blonde, knowing how much their hesitance in helping the teen hurt him. Void was his friend. But he was also the murderer of their son and brother. (<s>A child.</s>)
"It's not coming off," the brunette muttered angrily as he mimicked the healer and tried to take it off, only revealing badly burned skin underneath it, "might need some kind of special tool."
"Scissors?"
"Too weak, this is some kind of sturdy metal. Perhaps even netherite."
"Boltcutter then?"
"It'll be very harsh on the skin, but should do the trick. If not, we need tools from my lab."
The two men didn't speak further as Eret and Tubbo tried to figure out how to get the power suppressor off. Phil's eyes had never left Tommy, the young boy still shaking, uncovered hands sitting in his lap as he was unsure what to do, fearing for his friend. They'd have to get him to a doctor soon, especially now that they didn't know for how long the vigilante had been wearing the power suppressor. Phil understood Techno's point, he wasn't keen on having the teen walking around without a suppressor either. But it was killing him, that and whatever else was causing the energy imbalance in his body, and while he didn't particularly care about it, Tommy did. And they didn't want to hurt Tommy again, even if it meant helping the person who killed Wilbur. His own son.
"Give him the regen potion," the older blonde said to Eret, "he needs to be stable if we want to get him to a hospital in one piece. If the bolt cutter doesn't work, I'll get your tools, Tubbo."
"But Phil-"
"Later, Techno".
And that was that.
The piglin huffed angrily and turned on his heels, walking back up to the stairs, presumably to get to Wilbur. Phil just looked at the situation in front of him, lips pressed into a thin line before leaving the room to get to the garage, hopefully, they'd get the bracelet off soon. His condition should improve drastically once it was taken off, and they got some regeneration into his system. That's what he hoped, at least.
.
Getting off the power suppressor had proven itself to be a rather difficult task. The bolt cutter hadn't as much as scratched the surface of the still slightly glowing bracelet, only irritating the already damaged skin more. Wilbur had watched all of it from the walls, having shut Techno out of his own room, despite the piglin trying his best to make sure he was okay. He wasn't. This person - Ranboo - was still inside their home, and they were actively trying to get off the one thing protecting everyone here from certain death. Sure, the vigilante was still very much unconscious and looked way too weak to cause a repeat of Pogtopia at the moment, but that didn't mean it wouldn't happen the second he woke up.
Wilbur didn't know how much the phantom state would protect him from that, he just hoped that if the void were to return once they got the bracelet off, it wouldn't have any effect on him. He gritted his teeth, watching as Phil kept his distance from the group of people still fussing over the unconscious teen. Black feathers bristled whenever he moved, anger and worry swirling in ice blue eyes, body language screaming about the inner battle the Elytrian must be fighting.
If it weren't for Tommy and the promise they made to Tubbo back at the meeting, they would've kicked Ranboo out immediately. Regardless of the fact that he was still a kid and hurt badly. How he had managed to get to this house, their secret private residence, was still a mystery. Had Tubbo snitched? Or Tommy? No, his brother couldn't have told the vigilante, not after Wilbur had revealed to him what he did.
They couldn't kill him. He wanted to, gods how much he wanted to inflict the same pain on the vigilante that he had inflicted on him, send him to Limbo and hope for a claim so that the teen may suffer from the same recurring nightmares that Wilbur was suffering from, perhaps send him there multiple times and watch as his mind slowly but surely breaks, leaving him as a hollow shell of his former self until he finally regained enough mental stability before repeating the process a thousand times over. Make him hurt enough that not even medication or proper therapy could help, perhaps even drive him to complete insanity, for that was what he deserved after eradicating an entire city. Wilbur's city.
Their morals were more than questionable and no one would've known about it anyway, at least no one that mattered too much. Tubbo would've gotten over it, either that or he'd have tried to fight them. A battle he'd have lost over and over again, they're the Syndicate after all and had much better training and skills than the young hero. It would've been a pain to explain to the other heroes why Tubbo suddenly hated all of them, but they'd have managed somehow. And in the end, the brunette wasn't essential to their plan, they had plenty of excellent hackers in their ranks and could've easily silenced the teen if they wanted to, perhaps force him on a long vacation far away from L'Manberg with his father? A nice five-year-long trip to the Hermits or Lifesteal, allowing them to bond some more?
Wilbur sighed, unfortunately, they couldn't do that. Tommy cared about the kid, and they had some rules, not hurting or killing children being part of that. And unfortunately, Ender fell into that category. So revenge was off the table. For now.
Phil and Eret had left the house a while ago after Tubbo had babbled about a variety of tools that the brunette didn't even try to understand. Tommy and Tubbo had tried to convince the older brunette to stay, but it was clear that they wanted to leave the heroes' house.
"Besides, I have a shop to open tomorrow, I can't stay here forever."
"But you're clearly exhausted, how would you even be able to stand for eight hours straight?" Tommy had argued weakly.
"I'll manage."
"I could ask them to let you stay?" Wilbur silently thanked the gods that he didn't. He wouldn't have been able to say no. And he'd really like all of them to leave the house, he needed some silence and time with his family after that.
Fortunately, Eret had shaken their head. "The shop needs to be opened, Tommy. Not everyone gets paid to fight crime."
Wilbur ignored the implications of that sentence. The tools would probably get the bracelet off, and then they'd be able to bring the kid to a hospital and have someone watch him 24/7, preferably someone with a lethal ability in case the kid lost control somehow. If he had a claim, then, well. Surely it wouldn't be too unethical for the corporation to test their little power-suppressing implant on him. The stay at a hospital wasn't ideal either, Tommy would probably want to stay with Ranboo and that meant they'd have to let him leave the house and with that their supervision, not to mention the fact that the city was dealing with the weird vines. XD would also easily be able to get to them and even if one of them stayed with him at the hospital, it just wouldn't be safe enough.
Wilbur sighed again and looked over to the kitchen window. Phil wouldn't be back in quite some time, it was still a half an hour's flight to L'Manberg, no matter how fast the Elytrian was. Which meant they'd stay in the house for much longer, maybe even the night if no hospital had any beds available for the vigilante. One of them will have to inform a hospital, hopefully, Techno or Phil would take pity on him and make the call.
Phasing through the walls and up the stairs he quickly found himself in his room again. Ever since they'd brought Tommy over it had become a bit messy, clothes clattered around on the floor and the desk messy with scrapped song ideas and unused lyrics. It's been a while since he truly cleaned his room, and it felt like a small eternity since the last time he had the mindset for more songs. It had been his passion, still was, but with the situation at hand and Tommy, there simply weren't any good moments for him to dedicate all of his mind towards music. The guitar has been leaning against the wall, right opposite his bed ever since, unused and now definitely out of tune.
Rematerializing in the room he slowly walked over to the guitar, hesitating for just a second. With the commotion in the house, Techno pacing in front of his door and the two teens talking quietly in the living room he wouldn't be able to think of any new lyrics, but perhaps playing an older song would help? But which song would he even play? None of them really felt like they'd lift his mood right now, it was more likely for him to get even more irritated, maybe play out of tune.
Sighing deeply, he walked away from the guitar, swearing to himself that he'd try to play once all of this was over. Maybe he could get Techno or Phil to listen, or even Tommy!
The pacing in front of his door came to a stop, soon quiet knocking followed. "Wilbur, please talk to me. Are you okay?"
Techno was worried, ever the mother hen. He'd never admit it openly, but he was just as bad as Phil and the brunette and when called out he'd probably blame his instincts. (Wilbur couldn't even blame him, even if it was just an excuse, piglin instincts can be even harder to handle than any other hybrid instincts, especially around sounder members.)
"I'm fine," he muttered quietly, knowing that the piglin would be able to hear it regardless.
"Can you open the door, please?"
"Techno I'm fine, really."
"I find that hard to believe," Wilbur could practically see the deadpan expression through the door. He rolled his eyes.
"But why, beloved brother, would you not believe me?"
"I don't know, maybe because your literal murderer is currently passed out in our living room?"
"Gee, thanks for the reminder, Technoblade."
A sigh. "Just open the door, Wil."
Too tired to argue with his brother further, the brunette walked to the door, unlocked it and swiftly swung it open. Stepping aside, he let the piglin in before quietly closing the door again and leaning against the wall, arms crossed in front of his chest. Techno eyed him knowingly, scarlet eyes looking just as tired and conflicted as Phil's had. The last weeks had all taken a toll on them, the constant worry about Tommy's healing progress and mental state as well as the training, the red vines which had yet to be taken care of and XD and now the random vigilante in their living room. To say all of them were tired would be an understatement. The fact that Wilbur could feel all and every emotion in the house didn't make it any better, his gut squirmed at the tsunami of worry and anger, hardly able to hold it together himself.
Techno leaned against his bed frame, mirroring his gesture and crossing his arms in front of his chest, his eyes never once leaving Wilbur.
"How are you holding up?"
"What do you think?" The brunette hissed, regretting it immediately as his brother winced. He didn't want to take his emotions out on his brother, the older one was only trying to help after all. "Sorry."
"No it's fine," the man sighed, "stupid question."
"The all mighty Blade admitting to having made a mistake?"
"Never said I made a mistake, it was just a stupid question."
"Basically the same."
"Sure it is, Wil."
Silence settled over them, heavy and thick like a blanket. Wilbur fiddled with the sleeve of his sweater, untwirling some of the loose threads as he listened to the steady breathing of his brother. His emotions were vocal, incredibly so even, and he was sure that chat was screaming.
"I'm guessing revenge is off the table?" The piglin then asked, scarlet eyes briefly flashing blood red before going back to their natural colour.
"He's a kid and a friend of Tommy's."
"I'll take that as a no," the man sounded just as disappointed as Wilbur had initially felt.
"Trust me, Tech, I'd love nothing more than for him to suffer the same fate that my citizens and I had to. But it'd hurt Tommy."
"Maybe he'd get over it quicker than you think."
"Doesn't change the fact that the person who eradicated my city is still a child."
Techno sighed tiredly. "And we don't hurt children, I know." He then finished, rubbing over his eyes with one hand. "Did you know about his age?"
"No," Wilbur replied, sounding just as tired, "the academy made sure to protect all personal information of heroes and recruits as per request."
"How noble of them to protect murderers."
"They just listened to orders," the brunette sighed, "and it's not like we're one to talk, Techno."
A hum and then more silence settled over them, only interrupted when the older man pressed himself away from the bed frame and walked over to his brother, placing both hands on the brunette's shoulder.
"You can talk to us. We're here for you, no matter what."
Wilbur sighed. "I know."
.
Tommy didn't know how long they'd spent sitting on the floor in silence, constantly checking their friend's breathing and pulse. From what Eret said the cuts on open wounds on his body were shallow, nothing life-threatening and they managed to take care of most of it. The regeneration potion was supposed to take care of internal injuries, he hoped it did just that. Phil still hadn't returned and he could tell Tubbo was getting nervous. Had they decided to just inform the authorities and not help their friend?
They technically had every right to do so. Ranboo was a vigilante. The very vigilante who had killed Wilbur as it seemed and their distaste towards his friend was only proven further when Techno openly snarled at his unconscious form. Phil had been less obvious about it, trying to help as much as possible, but he had been hesitant and the blonde could see that the only thing holding the older Elytrian back from snapping was Tommy. If it weren't for him they would not have helped Ranboo.
His breathing was shallow, bruises still littered his skin and the skin around the power suppressor was strongly burned, red and puffy. Most definitely infected, he thought with a grimace. The power imbalance worried him the most, Tommy wasn't familiar with the concept of power suppressors. He didn't know how they worked to the core, but considering Ranboo had passed out after travelling through the void to their location the boy must've been incredibly weak. But for all that mattered, he shouldn't have too much energy, he should've been drained of it.
As his eyes skimmed over the boy's face, taking in the black eye, heavy dark eyebags and busted lip and bruises which looked suspiciously like a fist, Tubbo got up next to him. There was dried blood on his cheek and on his neck, likely having dripped down from where the bastards who got him busted his lips.
"What are you doing?" The teen asked and looked up, following the young hero who walked to the kitchen on shaking legs.
"Getting some water and a cloth," the brunette replied dryly, the movements turning even more sluggish, "I can't stand to see the blood on his face."
Tommy nodded and swallowed hard, eyes now skimming over the rest of his appearance. He hadn't noticed the clothes before, too busy worrying over the fact that one of his best friends had collapsed in front of him. But now that it had calmed down a little and they had gotten some regeneration into his system, he finally noticed them.
White shirt. White fabric trousers. White socks, all stained with blood or dirt (and red sand?).
Bile rose in his throat. This was awfully familiar and as he swallowed the bile down, forcing himself to stay calm and not freak out, he knew what happened to Ranboo.
XD.
The god had gotten his hands on his friend in whatever way and likely tortured him the same way he had done with him and the other kids at the facility.
Gods, Ranboo had met XD, had gone through something just as traumatic as Tommy had. And he had survived, had managed to flee, just like himself.
Tubbo appeared to his right again, a wet cloth in hand which he carefully brought down on the teen's face. Ranboo twitched briefly and then let out a sigh as the brunette carefully removed crusted blood, careful as to not get any of the stained water on the couch. Tommy grimaced as he saw the crusted blood in white hair, scalp littered with fresh scars and some still sluggishly bleeding larger wounds. Looks like Eret's healing hadn't been able to get rid of all the surface injuries after all.
"Do you think...?" The brunette wasn't able to finish the sentence, voice cutting off as he swallowed harshly, still busy removing dried crusted blood from their friend's face.
"XD." Tommy whispered, carefully brushing the boy's hair back to allow Tubbo a better angle to clean his forehead.
"That bastard." Tubbo was seething, hands shaking from pure rage as the grip on the cloth tightened. "I'll kill him. I swear to all the gods above I will kill that wannabe god and send him straight to Death herself."
Tommy remained quiet, leaving his friend to quiet raging while helping him clean the blood. They'd have to take off his clothes to check for further injuries soon, but only after the power suppressor got taken care of.
"Where do you think he is?"
The blonde looked up, meeting the raging and worried gaze of his friend. "I don't know."
"If we get lucky he'll be able to tell us more," Phil's voice suddenly sounded behind them, slightly out of breath. Both of them flinched, not having realised that the man had come back, a laptop and a variety of other tools in his arms which he then unceremoniously dumped in front of the teens. "Where's Wil?"
"Upstairs still."
"What took so long?" Tubbo asked angrily as the winged hero swiftly walked past them, black wings puffed up.
"We have a problem."
"Oh really? Who would've thought." The brunette sneered sarcastically, already having gone for some kind of tongs and a small, purple shimmering pair of drills, the cloth discarded on the carpet as he leaned over the boy, carefully taking his wrist.
"Quit it, Tubbo," the man said sharply, eyes flashing an ice blue before going back to their natural colour, he then tilted his head up to the stairs. Footsteps sounded above them and soon Techno descended the stairs. The piglin's lips were pressed into a tight line as he briefly eyed the still-unconscious Ranboo before looking back to his father. "Wilbur?"
"He's alright," a short pause, "as alright as he can be."
Phil nodded grimly and then turned back to the two teens. "Once that's off he'll have to take another regeneration potion. I've already informed the central hospital, they'll be able to take him in tomorrow. Until then we'll have to keep him stable."
"Tomorrow? But it's an emergency!" Tommy protested immediately.
"I know, mate, but they've gotten overrun today," the Elytrian said, "somebody broke into Pandoras."
"What!?"
"The vigilante, Purpled or how they're called. They somehow managed to get into there, blowing up three-quarters of the prison in the process. A ton of criminals are on the loose and Punz is missing."
"Do they need our help?" Tubbo asked uneasily, still fiddling with the bracelet.
"Maybe, I'm not sure. They've already sent out a good portion of the heroes to take care of the criminals."
A sharp hiss and then the drills Tubbo had been holding prior went flying through the room, clattering on the floor a couple feet apart from them. The brunette cursed under his breath as he dropped the tweezers as well, a slightly burned smell in the room.
"Are you okay?" Tommy immediately asked, reaching forwards to grab the teen's hand but stopping immediately as he remembered the still ungloved hands.
"This piece of shit has some kind of enchantment," the young hero hissed, rubbing over his fingers with a painful expression, "I can't take it off, not even my tools are able to get through it."
"Curse of Binding most likely," Techno mused, eyes narrowed at the bracelet, "the wearer won't be able to get it off unless the person who put it on in the first place takes it off." A beat of silence. "Or unless he dies."
"I'd like to avoid him dying," Tommy said dryly, hands tightening into fists as his gaze wandered over to his friend once again. The men remained quiet, only briefly exchanging a glance.
"Tommy," the teen looked up to meet his friend's gaze, a carefully measured expression on his face, "could you try to wither the bracelet?"
"Are you sure that's a good idea? I still can't really control it..."
"Emotions are a huge factor in controlling your ability," Techno spoke up, eyes locked on Tommy's face, "you're worried and mad, correct?" A nod. "You want the kid to survive?" Another nod.
"Of course I want him to survive, he's my best friend!"
"Then your subconscious won't let you fail."
"But what if I hurt him? What if it spreads further and I accidentally kill him?"
"Do you want to kill him?"
"Of course not, but-"
"Then you won't", Phil said firmly, hand resting on Techno's shoulder, "focus on the bracelet and the bracelet only. Imagine it crumbling in your touch."
"We tried the same with the leaves earlier and it didn't work," the teen argued weakly. He didn't want to accidentally hurt his friend even further and all his attempts at withering a single object at his touch other than the bridge had failed.
"You managed to do it once, you'll be able to do it again. Trust us."
"I can't get it off, not when enchantments are involved. Please" the brunette next to him pleaded.
"We'll guide you through it," Phil said gently, "you won't hurt him, I promise."
"Don't make promises you can't keep," Tommy muttered quietly but turned to face the unconscious body of his friend nonetheless, hand now hovering over the bracelet.
"Only use your finger, not the entire hand," the Elytrian spoke again, watching as the teen reached forwards with shaking hands, gently placing one finger on the cold metal, "You want to wither the bracelet and the bracelet only. Your friend is not what you wish to wither, repeat that."
Tommy swallowed hard. "Are you sure-"
"Repeat it."
"I w-want to wither the bracelet. I do not wish to wither my friend." He felt the cold metal under his touch, his power already humming underneath his skin, begging to be released (but he didn't, he couldn't risk hurting his best friend).
"It isn't working," Tubbo said quietly, eyes trained on the bracelet.
"Close your eyes and imagine the bracelet breaking, visualise it if possible," Techno said, completely ignoring Tubbo's intake.
Tommy tried, he really did try to wither the bracelet (but his subconscious held him back, the fear of hurting his friend was bigger than the fear of him dying due to the power suppressor draining him of all his energy). Techno and Tubbo kept talking to him, reassuring him that nothing would go wrong and that Ranboo would leave this situation unharmed, in one piece and not withered. Phil just observed quietly, eyes narrowed at the shaking form of his son and only spoke up once to remind Tommy to keep his finger on the bracelet.
"Guys please this isn't working." The blonde pleaded, voice shaking and very well near tears.
"You can do it, Tommy."
"What if I hurt him?"
"You won't."
"But-"
Phil squeezed Techno's shoulder as the piglin (softly) explained that the suppressor could very well cause him to die as he would have no energy left to heal properly, despite the imbalance. Stress wasn't beneficial in a situation like this with an ability similar to Tommy's and it'd be way better if they managed to do this with as little mental pressure as possible. But the man could see the hesitance, could feel how the mental blockage in his son's head was keeping him from releasing his ability, something he had only recently discovered.
When Techno mentioned the person would feel nothing but satisfaction upon Ranboo's death he noticed how Tommy's breath hitched. They had a vague idea who it was, of course. Either the Egg cultists or XD himself, and Tommy seemed to know that as well.
"I don't want to accidentally hurt him," he said again, voice barely above a whisper.
"Would you rather give XD the satisfaction of knowing he killed him?" Phil asked softly, wings slightly bristling as he spoke.
It was risky, bringing XD up when he was the reason for the mental blockage in Tommy's brain. But it was a risk he was willing to take, for his son's mental health. He'd rather stress out Tommy now and work on calming him down later than have him absolutely devastated once his friend inevitably died.
And it worked, fear was by far the strongest emotion and it seemed the fear of XD was stronger than the fear of accidentally hurting or killing someone again. The blonde's breath hitched again upon hearing the name of the wannabe god, body going rigid and seconds later there was a loud metal creaking sound, followed by a wave of energy hitting all of them, strong enough to send their hair flying. A strong reaction and the proof of the enchantment, curse of binding. Then, another wave went through the living room, a pure black which lasted less than a second before subsiding as well.
Tommy had immediately pressed his hands to his body, scrambling away from the still unconscious teen on the sofa, eyes wide as they darted over Ranboo's entire body, looking, searching for any kind of wither. There was nothing, the teen's breathing was still shallow, but Phil and Techno knew it would soon improve. Techno already reached for another regeneration potion and walked towards the kid while Phil swiftly walked over to the closet in the hallway, grabbing for the drawer where they had started to store every pair of gloves they owned.
"You did it!" Tubbo exclaimed near hysteric as he carefully brushed off the remaining black particles off the teen's skin. "Holy fuck Tommy, you did it! The suppressor is off!"
With Tubbo and Techno working on carefully coaxing the unconscious teen to drink the regeneration potion, Phil had kneeled down in front of a still-shaking Tommy and gently handed him a pair of cotton gloves, a gentle smile on his lips.
"Told you it wouldn't hurt him," the Elytrian said as he watched his son put on the gloves, hands still shaking, pride in his voice.
"I hate this."
"I know, but it was necessary."
"Are you sure he's okay?"
"Absolutely," Tubbo chirped, "he's breathing, his pulse is weak but there and not a single spot of wither on his skin. You did it!"
Tommy just nodded and swallowed, not daring to speak any further. His heart was still racing and he still wasn't convinced that Ranboo was entirely fine. They'd have to wait until the teen woke up (if he woke up at all) and then they'd hopefully get more answers about his state and whereabouts.
Thankfully it hadn't taken too long for the blonde teen to recover from the shock, he panic immediately being pushed aside as the young vigilante on the sofa began to stir. He hadn't quite woken up yet, but without the suppressor draining all his energy Ranboo became a lot more active. As active as a sleeping person could get. But the small movements and now deeper breaths were enough to calm the two boys. They hadn't left his side, not voluntarily at least and Phil had to force them to take a break from watching the boy's breathing, coaxing them to eat something light for dinner as they had all skipped lunch.
Now that it was dark outside, the lights inside dimmed as if to not irritate the already exhausted teens more, Phil could see that they were fighting the battle of sleep. Techno had left to take care of Wilbur a couple hours ago, likely just spending time with him in silence, present in case he wants to talk but not forcing him to either. The winged man had stayed with the boys, sitting on an armchair with his phone sitting on the table and a book in hand. Granted, he hadn't focused much on the words, the book merely something to fidget with as he observed the teens.
Tubbo would stay the night, had outright demanded it and threatened to kill all of them if they dragged him away from Ranboo and back to his father's flat in central. Fiercely protective. Phil respected that, so they quickly put fresh sheets on one of the guest bedrooms, now ready to be used. A glance at his phone told him the time, well past eleven in the evening already, nearing midnight.
The two were still sitting in front of the sofa, a blanket draped around the both of them. They had refused to go to their rooms (or the nest in Tommy's case), adamant about staying with their friend no matter what. The brunette had especially been set on that, eyes sharp and hands balled into fists as he told Phil that. He didn't trust him to take care of Ranboo, not when they had very obviously drawn the connection. Not a surprise.
Tubbo's head was resting on Tommy's shoulder, the latter's head resting on top of the former's, breathing deep and steady. They had stopped shaking eventually and something told the older Elytrian that they had fallen asleep. Not surprising whatsoever, an event like that was exhausting and no matter how mature they acted, they were still kids after all.
As quietly as he could he put the book down on the table in front of him and then got up and walked up to the teens. Just as suspected, their eyes were closed and neither of them as much as twitched as he carefully pulled the blanket off their shoulders, instead placing it on top of the still sleeping, injured vigilante. He then quickly hoisted both boys into his arms, grip strong and secure before beginning the trip up the stairs. It proved itself to be quite difficult, neither the blonde nor the brunette having taken notice of their moving whatsoever and hanging rather limply in his hold and more than once he had rearranged them so they wouldn't accidentally hit their head.
Phil dropped off Tubbo in the guest room first, laying him down on the bed as gently as possible before draping the blanket over him. He then secured his grip on Tommy, the blonde's head buried in his collarbone, before walking out of the room, closing the door as quietly as possible. Walking past Wilbur's room, he noticed the light shining through the half-closed door, low shuffling heard from inside indicating that the phantom was still up.
Knocking twice before opening the door, Tommy still in his arms, he was greeted with Wilbur sitting on his desk, the small lamp being the source of the light. Techno was sitting on the ground, leaning against the wall with a book in hand, glasses shining golden in the warm light. They both looked up upon Phil's entrance.
"They finally passed out?" Techno asked, amusement in his voice as he shot Tommy a fond look.
"About time, isn't it?"
"Yea."
"What about Ender?" Wilbur asked uneasily.
"Still unconscious," Phil said quietly, "we got the suppressor off and gave him a regen potion. He shouldn't wake up any time soon."
"It'd be a wonder if he does," Techno perked up, "I used the strong regeneration potion."
"The one with weakness mixed in between that's supposed to keep people knocked out while regen does its work?"
"Exactly. Didn't want to risk him waking up and accidentally using his ability out of panic of not knowing where he is. Ideally, he should stay sleeping until tomorrow midday and by then he'll be in the hospital."
"Smart."
"Just a precaution."
"Let's hope it doesn't mess with his healing process," Phil said quietly, brushing blonde locks out of Tommy's eyes, his face scrunching up a little before easing into a relaxed expression again, "I'd rather not have Tubbo try to fight us."
"He'd lose," Techno said flatly.
"Of course he would, but that'd be a lot of unnecessary stress and wasted energy for all parties involved. Energy we could all instead focus on Tommy's training and more important matters in general."
Both men nodded, Techno then got up and put the book back on the shelf before walking over to Phil. The winged hero stepped aside and watched as Techno walked down the hallway, already making his way towards the nest.
"Are you going to join us?"
"No, I'll stay here."
Phil nodded in understanding. "Try to sleep at least a little bit."
"Don't think I could even if I wanted to," the brunette muttered.
"Just try, mate." Wilbur looked up to his father who was smiling at him and nodded. "Goodnight."
"Goodnight."
.
Wilbur did not sleep.
It's not like he didn't try, he did! He hadn't bothered to change in his sleeping clothes, instead crawling into bed still wearing jeans and a sweater, but he tried!
As a phantom, it was already hard to sleep at night, the natural physiology of phantom hybrids almost always caused Insomnia since their origins were nocturnal. But it was even harder to sleep when you knew the person who killed you all these years ago was currently fast asleep in your living room. After what felt like an eternity of tossing and turning around, mindlessly staring at the ceiling, the phantom got up.
The house was quiet, the emotions everyone felt were quiet and dull, a sign that they were most likely sleeping. Dreaming.
Not bothering to change into a new set of clothes he carefully crept down the stairs, beelining for the kitchen, completely ignoring the living room and the quiet and steady breathing of the person on the sofa.
He didn't know what his exact goal was, maybe a glass of water would help calm his nerves? Maybe a quick snack? Techno hadn't managed to get him to have dinner after all. Yea, he'd just need food and then he'd be able to-
Wilbur froze as a tsunami of fear and panic hit him.
A gasp, and then low shuffling from behind him followed by a thud.
Ender seemed to have woken up.
He silently cursed under his breath and turned around, quickly walking towards the living room where he could already see the panting teen on the floor, a blanket tangled around his form. Ender's eyes were hectically darting around the room as he weakly tried to free himself from the blanket, trying to get up. It was a futile effort, the teen clearly way too weak still to be able to do anything.
Wilbur was thankful for that.
As he quickly made his way over to the teen, Ender's eyes zeroed in on him and he watched as the vigilante froze, eyes widening as much as possible despite being bruised. Ignoring the way his heart was racing in his chest, Wilbur quickly grabbed the vigilante by the shoulder, their mindset merging. He then immediately poured as much calmness through the temporary bond as possible, forcing the young teen into a slack and completely calm mindset and watching as his body relaxed.
He could feel the sheer and utter panic as well as the confusion the vigilante had felt before and for just a split second, Wilbur felt bad. Then he remembered that this was the person who killed him, and suddenly he didn't feel bad anymore at all.
Hoisting the teen back onto the sofa, he still kept the touch on Ender's shoulder, making sure to keep the teen as calm and relaxed as possible. The teen couldn't do anything, his muscles not listening to the commands he tried to give them, Wilbur could feel it.
Their eyes met, Wilbur could feel the panic, the recognition, the fear. He could feel it all, it nagged at his mind, begged his own body to act out on it.
It'd be so easy.
It'd be so incredibly easy to just increase the fear, make him panic enough to send his brain into overdrive, perhaps make him see an image in his head suggesting he was currently being mauled to death by just the worst demons from hell.
It'd be so painfully easy to just watch his heart give out due to pure panic.
Gods, Wilbur wanted to do it so bad, wanted to get revenge so bad.
But it'd hurt Tommy.
He sighed.
"I'm going to release my grip," he then said, voice held painfully neutral with just a hinge of sharpness, "and you're not going to panic or use your ability. Wherever it was that XD or the cultists dragged you, you're no longer there. Got it?"
Fear, confusion, panic.
The vigilante just held his gaze, still not being able to move a muscle, but he had heard his voice, his emotions telling him as much. With a deep breath, Wilbur released the grip and took a step back from the sofa, watching as the teen immediately tried to sit up and scoot as far away from him as possible.
"Wha-" his hoarse voice was cut off by a cough rattling through his lungs, leaving him heaving for breath.
Wilbur waited patiently, not bothering to get the teen a glass of water. Sure, it'd be beneficial for his throat, but he really couldn't care less. He just needed him to be aware enough to understand what was going to happen next.
"President Soot?" Ender eventually croaked out, wide eyes trained on him.
"Ender." He replied coldly.
"This-" another cough, "am I d-dead?"
"Not yet." The kid shuddered. Good.
"But you're supposed to be dead, how-"
"Favourite," Wilbur didn't let him finish, "you sent me to Limbo with the little stunt you pulled in Pogtopia."
"I'm-"
"I don't care," he cut him off, voice as cold as ice, "I don't care about your apology. You put me through hell and back. Limbo isn't fun, dying to your ability isn't fun either.
"Do you know how it feels to be sucked into complete darkness? How it feels to lose your sense of hearing and touch as pure blackness surrounds you? To not know where you are or how much time has passed? The pain you feel when the darkness slowly but surely presses closer to your body, crushing every single bone in your body?"
He leaned closer to the vigilante whose eyes were still wide in shock. "Do you know how much it hurts to feel your broken ribs puncture your lungs and heart, not being able to breathe all while trying to remain calm and collected? How much it hurts to feel your skull slowly cracking open, all while being conscious because your little void won't let you pass out?
"Do you know how it feels to beg Death to just finish it already?"
Another wave of sheer and utter panic hit him, the vigilante was scared out of his mind.
"I'm not going to kill you," Wilbur said, eyes never once leaving the panting teen, "I want to, but it'd hurt my brother, so you're safe. If you do try to use your ability again, however, we will not hesitate to take you out. Understood?"
Ender swallowed hard, and then nodded. Wilbur nodded as well and took a couple steps back, then sat down on the armchair that Phil had sat on prior, eyes still trained on the vigilante. The vigilante was confused and in fear and he could practically hear the questions.
"Ask."
"What?" Ender's voice was so small, so painfully young and terrified. Wilbur almost felt bad. Almost.
"Your questions, it's obvious you have some. Ask them."
The teen swallowed again. "Tommy and Tubbo?"
"Upstairs, sleeping. Safe and sound."
Ranboo nodded and took in a deep breath, trying to calm his surely racing heart. "Where-?"
He was interrupted by another coughing fit, this one lasting even longer than the one before. Wilbur grimaced before getting up and swiftly phasing through the walls to get the glass of water he previously didn't want to hand out. If he wanted to get this over with as quickly as possible the vigilante would need to be able to speak. His voice was hoarse, hardly above a whisper. The teen must've screamed a lot, was probably tortured or beaten.
Wilbur was all too familiar with that kind of voice loss, would occasionally be the cause. They needed information on the corporation, and who better to use than the person who could show literal nightmares in your mind?
Ender took the water gladly, taking small sips while nervously eyeing the phantom who sat back down on the armchair. His eyelids were already drooping again, the weakness seemingly kicking in again. Either that or a really fast adrenaline crash.
"Where are we?" He slurred a little. It was just the tiniest bit amusing.
"Around two hours out from L'Manberg."
A moment of silence as the vigilante's eyes unfocused. Ender then blinked a couple times before nodding and taking another sip.
"We'll take you to central's hospital in the morning," Wilbur said as he got up and made his way towards the stairs, smiling just a little as he noticed the way the boy tensed, "just one thing, did you manage to find out where it was that they kept you?"
Ranboo nodded slowly.
"Badlands."