Chapter Text
When Wilbur awoke, all he could feel was pain.
A throbbing headache was what he noticed first, making his vision swim as he came to, eyes unfocused on anything in the dark room. Then he was all too aware of the feeling of dried blood on his face, followed by the uncomfortable feeling of what he assumed was a broken nose.
Groaning, Wilbur tried to pull his hands to his face, but found he was restricted, the sound of metal jingling reaching his ears. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath, trying to separate his hands from behind his back again only to find that he was in fact chained up to whatever he was sitting on. He grumbled, trying again and again, to no avail. He muttered in frustration upon giving up, starting to look around to try and figure out where the hell he was. The room itself was dark, no windows on the walls and no door that he could see. A singular light dangled above him, giving off dim, orange light throughout the room. A few boxes lined walls, like it was some sort of storage room. There was a support beam behind him, and after a moment he figured that's what he was tied to, the wood digging into his back with how tightly he was chained up.
And then his eyes landed on a chair across from him and his whole body froze.
Sitting in the chair, still seemingly unconscious, was a small figure, blonde hair a mess and all tangled past it's usual curls, red and white sweatshirt dirtied and jeans ripped, his shoes missing and a pair of small, brownish-yellow wings with feathers ruffled messily drooped on his back.
Tommy.
There was a bruise on his cheek near his eye, but from what Wilbur could tell, he wasn't bleeding anywhere, which was good, at least he wasn't roughed up as much as he had been. "Tommy?!" Wilbur cried, trying to wake his younger brother, "Tommy, wake up, please wake up, you have to wake up please."
Tommy stirred only slightly, groaning slightly as he shifted in his restraints only a little bit. He mumbled something out, but the 9-year-old's eyes wouldn't open. He was conscious, that much Wilbur could tell, but still his little brother refused to wake up, which was bad. His wings were out, and if he couldn't hide them before whoever kidnapped them walked in, they could damage the still developing appendages.
Biting his lip, Wilbur had to make up his mind quickly. He would either let Tommy sleep until he naturally woke up all the way, sparing him from the horrors of the situation they were currently in. Or, he could make him wake up to make sure he would listen to him and keep himself calm. His little brother's safety took priority.
"Tommy," Wilbur called out again, screwing his eyes shut as he poured his influence into the next sentence, his voice echoing slightly through the room. No, into the command. "Tommy, wake up!"
All at once, Tommy was gasping awake, his small chest rising and falling quickly with his breath as his wide eyes looked around frantically. Wilbur desperately wanted to reach out and pull the kid into his arms to comfort him, but he was restrained and couldn't. All he could do was watch as Tommy realized he too was restrained and frantically tried to pull away, rattling chains once again filling the silence of the room.
"Tommy, Tommy," Wilbur said as calmly as he could, "Toms, calm down, look at me, look I'm right here."
Scared, wide blue eyes met his own, his little brother looking up to him, "Wil, where are we? What's going on?" Tommy cried, still pulling against the chains and making his chair wobble a little.
"I don't know, but it's going to be okay, I promise," Wilbur soothed as best he could, "Dad will come looking for us, he and Techno both, okay? Any minute, Dad will come swooping in, and he'll take us home. But until then, you have to be brave, okay? Can you be brave, Toms?"
His little brother still looked absolutely terrified, eyes watering with unshed tears waiting to fall at any given moment, his body trembling. But still, he nodded. "I can be brave, I can do it Wil," Tommy promised.
Giving him as warm and reassuring a smile he could, Wilbur nodded back at him, "Okay, okay good," He felt like he could breathe a little better knowing his brother was awake. He turned his head, straining his neck a little to try and find a door. "First thing's first, you need to put your wings away, think you can do that?" He said as he turned to look back at Tommy. The little muted yellow wings ruffling a little in response, like the kid just remembered they were there.
"But they hurt," Tommy whined, letting the only limbs that weren't restrained stretch out, the wings unfolding and taking up the space surrounding him.
"I know, I know Toms, and I'm so sorry. But whoever took us can't know you have them. Remember what Dad said, right? It's to keep you safe." Wilbur told him, hoping and praying to whatever God would listen that he wouldn't have to command his little brother to put his wings away. He hated doing that to his family, Tommy specifically since he was so young. But on the other hand, he wasn't against doing what he had to in order to keep him safe.
After much too long in silence, Tommy finally grumbled, stretching his little wings all the way out one last time before he screwed his eyes closed in concentration. The brownish-yellow wings seemed to glow for a moment, the feathers glowing a soft gold before they vanished all together, like they were never even there in the first place. Tommy let out a breath Wilbur hadn't realized he was holding as his eyes opened again.
Wilbur gave him a small smile as a silent apology, opening his mouth to speak but was suddenly interrupted by the sound of a door slamming open. It sounded like the door was behind him, which was probably why he couldn't see it, but Tommy could. And the 9-year-old's eyes widened in fear again at whoever had just walked in.
"Oh, looks like you're both awake now. Finally." A voice echoed in the room, and Wilbur recognized it instantly. It was hard to forget a voice that constantly made the news. It was hard to forget the voice of the number one hero.
Turning his head to try and find where the voice came from, Wilbur watched as Dream walked into the room, stopping to stand on his right side between himself and Tommy. The hero was just like how he looked on the news, and how his dad always described him. His first thought, was that the white mask with the smile on it looked so much more intimidating in person, wearing a hooded cloak that hid everything that would have made him look human. That's what made him so recognizable, Wilbur figured, the fact that every single one of his features was hidden by either the mask or the cloak's hood.
The second thought he had, was why the absolute fuck would the number one hero kidnap two civilians!? Not to mention kidnapping a child and minor?!
"You're.. you're Dream! The Dream!" Tommy said before Wilbur could say anything, but he could tell immediately that his brother was putting up the amazed civilian act. They both knew better than to not put on an act. "Are you here to save us?"
Wilbur felt like he knew the answer to that question. But he wanted to have the same childhood innocence that Tommy had, the 9-year-old didn't put together what Wilbur had the moment the hero had walked into the room.
"Oh, poor kid thinks I'm here to save him, how cute," Dream's voice was dripping in sarcasm, and although hidden, Wilbur could hear the smirk on his face. Tommy's face fell into fear again at the response. "But maybe, if you and big brother over here," Dream gestured to him, "give me the information I want, and cooperate, maybe I'll let you go."
"What do you want?" Wilbur said, taking a breath and sitting up as best he could. "What made you want to kidnap not just civilians, but a child."
A dark laugh came from the masked man, a sound that made him want to curl up and hide in a corner. "Oh, but you're not just civilians, are you? Wilbur, right? You know things about a certain group of villains, don't you?"
"Please, Dream, Tommy's not even 10 yet, let him go, you don't need him," He never broke eye contact with the mask, basically begging. He would do anything to keep his little brother save. And if he could get the hero to let Tommy go, maybe Tommy could get their dad and he and Techno could rescue him faster.
"Really, you don't want me," Tommy added, talking fast, although Dream was still facing Wilbur and not him, "Kids at school say I'm annoying and a pain to have around, and my dad says I'm a gremlin child- whatever that means. Besides, you're a hero! Heroes are supposed to help people and keep them safe, right? When my dad finds out we're gone, you're gonna-"
"Tommy," Wilbur warned, his eyes snapping towards his brother. His voice was laced with a warning, he wasn't afraid to make him stop talking if he had to, in order to make sure he wouldn't say things he shouldn't, "Please, be quiet." His eyes held the plea for his brother to listen, and looking back at the big blue eyes, he was met with frantic fear. 'It'll be okay,' he mouthed to him, receiving a small nod in return.
His hair was suddenly gripped, his head forced back and essentially slammed into the wooden beam. Wilbur groaned a little in pain, hearing his little brother cry out in protest, as he looked back at Dream, who's hand held a harsh grip in his mop of curls. "You listen to me, the both of you," Dream hissed, "I am doing what is necessary in order to protect the city from villains, you understand?"
Wilbur swallowed thickly. Dream couldn't know, could he? There was no possible way he knew. He evened his breathing, taking slow breaths to try and focus on something other than the throbbing pain from his head slamming into the beam. "And what do I have to do with villains? I'm just a regular guy, I swear, so is my brother. Neither of us even have any sort of powers.”
That dark laugh was back again, this time more of a chuckle. Dream roughly let go of him, letting Wilbur's head fall forward again as he let a sigh of relief. "I think you and I both know that's a load of bullshit. I've been watching you for a while, ever since that fight between me and the Blade. You and your brother were there," The mask turned towards Tommy, the scared kid trying to shrink in his seat and restraints.
"So were like, hundreds of other people," Wilbur countered, "What do we have to do with that?"
The haunting, blank smile-clad mask turned back to him, the hero getting close to his face. "Because out of everyone there, The Blade of all people stopped grabbed little Tommy and took him away. Poor thing must have been so scared."
"He was fine," Wilbur said slowly, keeping his breath even and trying to slow his racing heart, "He would have been crushed by falling debris, not that you noticed apparently."
"But do you know what that tells me?" Dream crooned, tilting his head to the side, extending his arm out to the side as the silver bracer on his wrist suddenly shimmered green, glowing and growing until it reached the palm of his hand and then changed form into a large battle-axe, made of a dark metal that shimmered even in the dim light, the long blade edge curved in towards the handle a little. The sudden appearance of the signature weapon, Nightmare, made Tommy whimper a little.
Wilbur held his breath, tilting his head back quickly as the blade was leveled at his throat. "That tells me you know the real identities of The Blade and Zephyrus."