Chapter Text
“Don’t cry! Oh, Toms don’t cry! It’s ok!” Wilbur ushered, hands hovering over the bleeding wound in the pup’s side. Tommy just whimpered, eyes fogged over and distant. It hurt. It hurt so bad.
The silver blade of the knife had already taken effect, stopping the enhanced healing of the werewolf, and lighting his nerves on fire. It didn’t matter that the wound isn’t fatal. It hurt. And that is all that registered in Tommy’s head. The pain, the fear, the shock.
Wilbur’s hands shook, watching as his baby brother’s eyes fell heavy, blue eyes a light grey, still kicking with hints of blue as the pain became too much. Wilbur didn’t know what to do, fear clouding his mind as he picked up the small pup.
The streets were empty, and it wasn’t like he could go back into the house. Not with that monster inside. And to think, Wilbur was close to considering this family an actual family. He growled, eyes burning with tears of frustration he would never let fall.
Yeah right. There was no one else out there who could take care of Tommy the way he could. And tonight he was proven right by that monster of a man. He felt tears welling in his eyes and fought them back. He could cry later when Tommy was safe and warm. Until then, he would walk down the street, holding his little baby brother close, and when the dirt road turned into sticks leaves, and brambles he didn’t notice.
The only thought in his mind was a mantra of getting Tommy away, getting Tommy safe, getting him help, no! No help!
Needs help!
We can’t go for help!
Safe?
Not safe- danger- hurt pup
His instincts weren't being fucking helpful either, which was always a bonus. He tried to ignore Tommy’s whimpers and whines, skin pale. It was a stark difference to the blue veins running underneath the skin, and it made Wilbur all much more aware of how thin the boy was.
Was he not eating back there? Was he giving me his food? God damnit!
Wilbur kept walking, the bushes turning to trees, the dark sky fading behind even darker leaves. The moon vanished, its sickly white glow turning to shadow as Wilbur searched. He didn’t know for what, he didn‘t know for how long. He knew his feet were aching, his muscles begging to rest, arms screaming.
It didn‘t matter. Tommy was hurt, blood sluggishly dripping from the wound. With every step, the dried blood got painted over with fresh blood. It made Wilbur want to cry to any God listening for help. He new better
The Gods didn’t fucking listen, they just watched.
But something still made Wilbur stop. The sound of a branch breaking close by. Too close. It made Wilbur freeze, blood turning to ice as umber eyes searched frantically through the dark trees.
He couldn’t see anything, and it put him on edge. He didn’t know what to do. He didn’t know. Tommy whined, high-pitched and scared. It made Wilbur want to cry as he searched faster, eyes burning with unshed tears.
He still couldn’t find anything, and it terrified him. He wanted to keep his baby brother safe, no he needed to keep his baby brother safe, and he couldn’t!
But what stopped him completely dead in his tracks was the low rumble. It wasn’t a growl, it wasn’t a bark, but it was there and it made Wilbur’s legs lock up heartbeat quickening. Tommy whimpered, trying to twist around to look to see what Wilbur was looking at, or for.
Wilbur pinned him to his chest, a low snarl rising from his lips. Whatever was out there just huffed before almost silent footsteps approached. Wilbur turned, holding Tommy close, holding him tighter. The blood seeping into his shirt was only warm, but it burned to Wilbur.
Brown eyes searched, frantic, desperate. Tommy whined, trying to wiggle out of Wilbur’s grasp. He only held tighter, wincing to himself when Tommy cried out in discomfort and pain, wiggling his side away from Wilbur’s grapes.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, just stay still, it’ll be ok, Toms.” Wilbur whispered, loosening his grasp, eyes swiveling through the trees. There was something out there, and it was dangerous! And why, why couldn’t he find it?!
The rumbling started again, and the sound of something heavy moving made Wilbur drop, gently laying Tommy on the ground before shifting. Bones cracked, muscles tore, but it was painless as the boy was replaced with a dark brown colored wolf.
There were mixes of some other colors, but the moon had them hidden as he hunched low, curling his body around Tommy. Tommy whined, burying his hands in Wilbur’s fur and tucking his head closer. Something was out there, and it was something Wilbur couldn’t see.
Tommy wanted to poke his head out, he wanted to snarl and bare his teeth, tell whatever was out there to fuck off.
Something was telling him that it wasn’t wise.
The pup wanted to shift, but the bleeding wound in his side was a sharp reminder of what was best. Instead, he curled as close as he could to Wilbur, leaching his warmth as the older tucked his head over Tommy’s neck.
A low growl emitted from the wolf, teeth bared in warning. The rumbling and steps didn't stop, if anything they just got louder. Tommy whined eyes shut tight. Wilbur snarled, snapping his jaws. The bones slammed together, resulting in a sharp clack sound.
The steps stopped, but the rumblings didn’t and Tommy wanted to sob.
I’m sorry, Wilby. I’m sorry, Wilby. I’m sorry, Wilby. He repeated the thoughts silently to himself, eyes watering. He wanted to help, but there was nothing he could do!
Wilbur’s hackles were raised, eyes locking onto a figure in the darkness. It was finally visible. He snarled, teeth snapping together. He wanted to tell the thing to fuck off, but keeping Tommy safe was more important.
The figure lowered its head taking a few more steps closer, and that's when Wilbur realized that that thing was. A wolf. But it was much too large to be native.
No… no…no! He… they just stumbled into a werewolf’s territory.
Wilbur closed his jaws with a click, curling tighter around his brother. He lowered his ears, forced his hackles to lay flat. He curled his tail around Tommy, tucking his head closer to his brother.
The werewolf just watched, copper eyes gleaming in the night. Its tail was even with its back, and Wilbur could see its reddish hue of fur. Said fur was long but well maintained. There were no sticks and brambles in it, and when it approached it kept its head even, eyes alert.
The other wolf’s nose was sniffing, and the closer it got the together Wilbur curled, the smaller he tried to make them look. The other wolf kept approaching, Wilbur kept curling until Tommy yelped out and curled in on himself. Only then did Wilbur circle his head around to hide in the fluff of his tail. He shut his eyes, tongue poking out to lick at Tommy’s hair in what he can only hope is comforting.
The other wolf stops, a soft huff leafing his muzzle as he turns his head to the sky. A long and drawn-out howl fills the dead silence. That should’ve been their first sign.
A quieter howl fills the air, and Wilbur fights back his whimper. Tommy doesn't succeed, breaths coming fast and short, whimpers, whines, and soft yowls leaving his lips. Wilbur just shakes, mind racing along with his heart.
The smell of his baby brother's blood fills his nose, and he wants to cry. Hell, he would be if wasn’t shifted.
The sound of paws crunching dead leaves and sticks made Wilbur’s blood freeze. When they stopped, Wilbur couldn’t breathe. His breathing had stopped, his heart racing and mind filled with the thoughts of just keeping Tommy safe.
He wanted to growl, but now there were two of them. It would be a death sentence to try and fight off two werewolves. Nonetheless two adult werewolves. Tommy whined, curling in closer to Wilbur, body beginning to shake. Wilbur could only gently lick the boy's head, clearing away dirt and grime in an attempt to comfort.
The two other werewolves began to approach, and it forced a choked-off snarl to escape his lips. The young boy immediately whined, ears pinned against his head. He wanted to roll over, expose his soft underbelly in submission, but he had someone he needed to protect.
A low chuffing sound was heard from one of the wolves, soon followed by the sound of bones shifting, cracking, and breaking. Wilbur waited in silence, eyes opening in shock as the sound of feet, actual feet crossing the forest floor filled the newfound silence.
“Easy…” A voice, gentle and soft spoke. It still made Tommy jump, whine, and then grab onto Wilbur, little claws growing in fear and digging into Wilbur’s skin. “Easy, it’s ok. I promise, mate. My name is Philza, but you can call me Phil. And the, uh, the red scary one, that’s Technoblade, but I just call him Techno.” His voice was like smoke, Wilbur noted dully. Airy and soft looking, but oh so deadly in large quantities.
Tommy whined, head turning to the floor to keep his gaze down and away. The wolf- Philza’s- voice held an air of power to it. This wolf was an alpha and an old one at that. Wilbur whined, high and scared and it sent Tommy into a state of fear you could smell it. Wilbur cut off his whine after that, trying to shield Tommy better.
“I’m not going to hurt you, I promise.” Philza said, still calm and gentle. “One of you is hurt, and I’m guessing it’s the one you’re protecting, huh?” He phased it as a question, one to give the illusion of choice. Wilbur growled, low and mean, or well… as mean as he could get.
A chuckle filled the air, and it made Wilbur freeze. Shit, shit, shit, shit! He just growled at Philza! Fuck! Did he just screw themselves over? Did he just force his little brother-
“It’s ok, just take deep breaths. I only want to help you.” Philza said, and Wilbur forced his head to rise, forcing himself to cover Tommy completely instead of hiding and staring Philza in the eye.
The man had pale blue eyes, like the hue you’d expect to find in a lake painting with sandy blonde hair. It was lighter than Tommy’s golden curls, but it still made Wilbur stair. His ears were still flattened against his head, but at least now he could see what he was up against.
“Good! That was good! You're doing great.” Phil praised, words gentle and almost… soothing. “There we are, hello pups.” He crooned, voice soft and gentle. Umber eyes tore away from the face and looked for Technoblade.
Who the fuck names their kid Technobalde? Like damn, poor kid.
The other wolf was just laying on the ground, head resting on his paws eyes closed. His tail was tucked to his side, and his ears flicked every so often. He looked peaceful, considering what was happening.
Wilbur forced his gaze to lock back onto Phil, but he forced himself to be aware of Technoblade resting a few feet away. Phil’s eyes glanced to his packmate and they softened.
“He’s not gonna hurt you either, mate. I promise.” Phil whispered. “Can I touch you?” Wilbur’s eyes widened, and his ears perked up before he forced them down again. No one had ever asked him that before. He pulled his lips up and bared his teeth. No way in hell was he letting him touch him, not when Tommy lay curled under him, shaking and whimpering.
“That’s alright, you’re already doing so well.” Phil murmured. “But I need to get you someplace safe. I know you know their hurt. I know you know it isn't safe out here. C’mon pup, just come with me and let’s get someplace warm, yeah? Warm and safe for ‘em to heal, alright mate?” Again, he was phrasing it as a question. Wilbur knew he didn’t really have a choice.
He glared daggers at Phil, who sat on his haunches like he don't know what he was doing. Tommy let out a soft cry, shaking his head no into Wilbur’s side. They didn’t have a choice. It was ‘go with them now, or get hurt here now’.
Wilbur shifted his body, umber eyes moving down to stare at wide dull blue. He knows what his baby brother is thinking, he knows. But they have no choice. They have to go, and it seems that Tommy understands that too. He gives a small nod, tears running down his face as he reaches a bloody hand to cup Wilbur’s face.
They’ll be ok.
They’ll be ok…
The walk with Philza and Technoblade was tense. The air was thick, and Wilbur kept his head low as he helped Tommy walk. He walked on his injured side, letting the boy press into him and not have to worry about Philza or Technoblade.
Philza tried to start a conversation with Tommy, but the boy stayed silent, eyes hazy and foggy and still oh so full of fear. It made the older wolf upset. At what, the pups could only guess, but they stuck closer together.
Techno wasn’t far away, making sure the path ahead was clear. Wilbur’s tail was tucked to his belly, ears flat against his head as he walked. He kept his body turned in a very subtle ‘c’ for Tommy to lean against. Tommy walked slowly, Wilbur even slower. Phil kept checking back on them before eventually stopping and walking behind them.
It made Wilbur afraid but he kept walking, curling tighter around Tommy instead to keep him as calm as he could.
It wasn’t working.
It didn’t take long before Techno picked up a trot, approaching what looked like a nice small cottage. The walls were a very pleasant clean white, white dark wooden accents. Vines crawled up one of the walls, creating a cluttered look that was pleasing.
Wilbur wanted to cry as they approached, Phil practically pushing them to the house. Technoblade had already vanished into the home, paws clicking against the floor as he moved.
They only got to the steps before Tommy stopped, clutching his side as he pressed into Wilbur, legs shaking before his knees gave out and he hit the ground with a thud. Philza sucked in a sharp breath of air when Wilbur went down too, curling around the boy as he snarled, consequences be damned.
Unfortnently, Technoblade wasn’t there to see the situation so when he reappeared in the door to see Wilbur snarling at Phil he lunged. His teeth snapped around the pup’s scruff before pulling him away, lifting the curled pup away from a shaking Tommy.
This didn’t help (obviously).
Wilbur snarled, twisting and thrashing as he was pinned, a large paw coming to push his back to the floor. The new heard sobs and cries from his brother urged him on as he twisted, snapping his jaws with harsh growls. His hackles were raised, eyes narrow as he lunged for whatever it is he could get.
Small teeth were able to twist enough to sink into a soft cheek, drawing blood as Wilbur used all his remaining strength to bite and never let go. Technoblade snarled, low and vicious as he reeled back, ears forward as the larger wolf’s hackles rose, making him even bigger.
His paws hit the floor before he stood on his hind legs, bringing his front paws to the pup. He let go of the pup in his mouth before using his claws to tear him away. Wilbur’s teeth pulled the skin on his cheek, blood spilling from the wound as he hit the ground. Hard.
His breath was knocked from him and Technoblade was back upon him before he could blink. Sharp teeth rested firmly against his muzzle, not hard enough to hurt, but enough to put him in minor pain and major discomfort. He cried out, a high pitch whine adding to the song of his brother.
In fact, his brother was shouting, yelling, and cursing profanities at Technobalde.
“You let him go, you bastard! Don’t you dare fucking hurt him! I’ll-I’ll kill you!” Phil was by his side, holding his shoulders as the wound began to pump more blood. Wilbur wanted to cry, but the best he could do was shake, tail tucked beneath his and rigid with his ears flattened to his head.
Technoblade didn’t let up, a constant growl silencing both pups’ whines and sobs. Blood dripped from his muzzle before the flesh sizzled like it burned. In seconds it was gone and this was when Wilbur realized.
These werewolves were powerful… they were going to kill them.
Philza snarled something low and warning, silencing Technoblade’s growls as he picked up Tommy who thrashed and screams, tears streaming down his face with snot and sweat. His skin was pale, his eyes still hazy but sharply focused on Wilbur’s lying body.
Technoblade huffed, something low, something mean before unlocking his jaws. He still kept a paw in the pup, keeping him pinned before Phil glared, eyes narrowing to slits as he jerked his head to the door. Technoblade lowered his head before stepping over Wilbur and jumping up the steps. He vanished back inside with the sound of breaking and shifting bones filling the air.
“Fuck.” Phil mumbled, holding Tommy closer, a hand over his wound. It made the boy go silent, eyes wide with fear and falling limp in his hold. “It’s ok. It’s ok. I- fuck! ” He took a few deep breaths before kneeling on the ground next to Wilbur. He hadn't moved. “It’s ok, you didn’t do anything wrong. I’ll take care of Techno, what he did was uncalled for. It’s ok. I-I didn’t mean to scare you when I went to help him.” He nodded to Tommy, who was still frozen in fear, eyes darting between his brother and Philza.
“I just wanted to help, and you have every right to snarl at me. I… I’m going to take you both inside now, ok? Can you walk, pup?” He asked. Wilbur didn’t move for a second, body still frozen to the floor with the sounds of Technoblade’s snarling echoing in his head. But when Tommy whimpered something soft and broken he forced his limbs to move, gathering his legs under him before standing.
He pulled his lips back at Phil, keeping his vocal threats to himself as he kept his eyes on Tommy. Phil nodded, some strange emotion in his eyes. It wasn’t pain or sadness. Adults don’t feel those for kids.
Together the three made their way into the cottage, the clean white walls suddenly feeling dirty and cold with the events of the night. Tommy kept his face hidden in Phil’s neck when they approached what looked like a living room. There was a large sofa covered in blankets with a nest of blankets and clothes on the floor in front of a fireplace.
The mantle was made of a nice red oak, filled with trinkets and pictures Wilbur couldn’t make out from the ground. His wolf for just wasn't as tall as his human form was all. It wasn’t because he was looking at his brother the whole time, nope not at all.
Phil was gentle when setting Tommy down on the pile of blankets on the sofa. He then lifted Wilbur onto it despite his quick snarl before he silenced himself and curled around Tommy. The boy let out a sigh, eyes heavy and closing. It made Wilbur panic as he licked the boy's face, rough tongue picking up dirt and grime.
He whine when all the boy did was shift, turning his face away from Wilbur. He didn’t stop whining, even after Phil returned with a leather satchel full of medical supplies. Philza didn’t hush the pup, instead just nudging him out of the way as he rolled Tommy to his back, wound facing him. It made Wilbur growl, ears pinned and tail tucked.
He was scared, ok? He was scared and he couldn’t do anything to help, and this older wolf was going to go near his baby brother's wound and “fix” it? It would make anyone irrational and scared.
“It’s ok, pup. I promise. I’m just cleaning the wound. There’s no healing, and a line of black so this is a silver wound, right?” Phil said, voice gentle and soft. Wilbur just merely bared his teeth, eyes wide and searching. The other werewolf was nowhere to be seen, but Wilbur could hear him shuffling around upstairs.
He couldn’t think of what he was doing as it sounded like the man was moving furniture around the place.
Wilbur looked back to Phil, whose blue eyes were locked onto the wound. His hands were steady, a small glass vile filled with a cream-colored substance in one hand as he spread it around the edge of the wound with the other. Immediately, Wilbur could see it taking effect as it was absorbed into the skin. The thin black ring around the stab wound was fading into too pale skin, and the cream was starting to slowly patch the smallest of the wound, repairing the damaged skin and returning small amounts of color to it.
“He’ll be ok, pup. He is going to need some stitches and some medicine. But he’ll be ok, alright mate?” Wilbur nodded, ears still flat as Phil grabbed the necessary tools. He began to stitch the wound closed, and they both winced when Tommy whimpered trying to shift away from the needle puncturing his skin.
Wilbur was there to brace against Tommy, not letting the boy get far as Phil hurried, keeping his hands steady and smooth as he finished. He tied it off, covering it with a bandage soaked in something that smelled really nice. Like a warm day with the coming of rain if Wilbur had to name it.
Tommy stopped moving, eyes fluttering behind closed lids, his breathing falling even as he snuggled into Wilbur’s side. A content sigh fell from his lips and he smiled. He actually to Gods smiled! Wilbur couldn’t stop the fond huff from spilling from his lips, laying his head down against the boy’s back.
“Get some rest, ok?” Phil said, gently bringing a hand to rub a small circle into Wilbur’s fur. The pup leaned into it, fatigue crashing into his body like a bullet, sapping all his energy away, including his well-crafted and built-up walls.
Wilbur nodded, head filling with cotton and fuzz. Tommy was already asleep, eyes darting back and forth. The color was slowly returning to his cheeks, and when Phil stood he gathered a few blankets and laid them over the two pups. It was only then that Wilbur realized how cold he truly was, and he melted into the warmth. Of the blanket, of his brother, of Phil stating a small fire a few meters away.
It was perfect. Or it would have been perfect they weren't with two very strong and very powerful werewolves. But like it was mentioned, Wilbur’s energy was sapped away, leaving no room in his head for cognitive thought, just a happy fuzzy feeling, and warmth.
For the first time in years, he felt safe.
And if he tried hard enough, he could ignore the warning bells ringing in his head. He could ignore his instinct begging him to get Tommy to safety. He could ignore it all as his eyelids drooped, too heavy to keep open anymore. And when they closed, he was pulled into sleep’s void. A gentle place full of darkness and calm, where everything was in motion, but nothing moved.