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P.E.I.P. recruited Wilbur Cross when he was a rebellious eighteen year old who lived with his neglectful mother and his heavy drinker father. They took him under their wings, gave him an apartment and a job.
He wasn't the only young adult who had been brought in due to their potential, so he got along with a lot of his colleagues.
With his colleagues, he tackled many paranormal, extraterrestrial, and interdimensional foes, getting to become good friends with them.
By the time he was thirty, he was the happiest he had ever been. His friends were all still with him, though some had had some close brushes with death on missions, and they trained together twice a week. He had been flirting for a year with the man he was mentoring, John, and they had finally went on their first date. It had gone very well.
Alongside these personal successes, he had been selected for a very important mission and was excited, if a little nervous, to get into it.
The mission was to be sent through a portal into the Black and White, the realm of the Lords. When in the Black and White, he would have to observe them, take notes, maybe even try to talk to them.
It was an honour to be selected.
...
The morning arrived at last. Wilbur woke up at six o'clock as per usual, and arrived to work at ten to seven.
"Today's the day, isn't it?" The receptionist greeted him with a wide smile.
He nodded.
"Stay safe, Colonel Cross."
"You know I will." He gave a confident wink and carried on to the room where the portal sat waiting.
He opened the door to see John talking with some of the other recruits, and all of the scientists punching away at the control panel.
He walked to where John and his friends stood and gave a smile.
"Good morning, Colonel." John gave a respectful nod. They hadn't told anyone about their relationship yet, still only in the early stages.
"Good morning, General." He smiled back before turning to his friends. "Morning, Kelly, Winston, Jagerman, Lee."
"Excited?" Finn Kelly gave a teasing grin.
"Of course he is, look at him." John Winston laughed. "Finally proof he's better than us."
"Oh, come off it." Wilbur scoffed. "You know that's not what I think."
"Sure." Sam Jagerman rolled his eyes, clapping Wilbur on the back. "And Xander isn't a massive nerd."
"Uh, rude much?" Xander Lee gave an act of offense.
"You are a nerd, Xander." Finn joined in.
"And you're a caveman."
"Lee just smoked you, man." John gave a hearty laugh and clapped Finn on the back.
The four men got busy in their conversation, and Wilbur took the opportunity to sneak John away to somewhere more private.
They stood in an abandoned lab room, Wilbur locking the door behind them.
"You have five minutes." John pointed out, looking at his watch.
"Plenty of time for a chat, you think McNamara?"
"If you talk quick." He smirked.
"That might do."
They stood watching each other for a moment before Wilbur stalked across the room and pulled John into his arms. John relaxed into the hold as much as someone so tightly wound is capable of relaxing. He placed his hands on the small of Wilbur's back and held him tight. Wilbur ran his hands through John's hair.
"Did I ever tell you this is too long for regulation?" Wilbur asked sarcastically. He had, many times. Mostly back when John was only starting out. He had stopped when he discovered that he found the long hair extremely attractive.
"Don't think you have actually." He murmured.
"Hm, must be fine then."
"Must be."
They let some moments pass by in silence. They could hear John's watch ticking along. Counting each second they spent together.
"John?"
"Hm?"
"Are you alright?"
"Yeah. Why?"
"You're quiet today."
"I'm always quiet."
"Not this quiet." He kept one hand in John's hair, trailing the other down to rub circles onto his back in a soothing manner.
John was quiet for a while before answering. "You'll be careful in there, won't you?"
"You know I will."
"You make sure you come back."
"I promise."
"Good."
"Good."
The watch kept ticking. They only had two more minutes before the portal was scheduled to open. They'd have to head back in a minute.
John pulled away quickly, reaching to take off his watch with a sort of desperation.
Wilbur watched him curiously.
"Here." John held it out.
"I can't take your watch, Johnny." He gave a soft laugh.
"Take it." He offered again, insistently. "Wear it. So you know when to come back."
"Are you sure?" He asked gently, searching John's eyes with his own. He knew how much John's watches meant to him.
"Yes. Here, give me your wrist."
Wilbur held up his left wrist and let John tighten the watch around him. The metal was cool against his skin.
"When this tells you that it's half-past seven, you come straight back, you hear me?"
"I hear you." He felt his face soften affectionately. He was always awful at staying cool and tough around John.
"Alright. We had better get you back then. You have a minute."
"No goodbye kiss?"
"Not at work." He shook his head. "You'll get it tonight so long as you come back at exactly seven thirty. Come back then and later we can go to that restaurant you like. Maybe I'll even let you stay the night. Don't you dare hang about for a few extra minutes in there just to scare me, because I'll only get angry."
"I know you will." He nodded. "And yes, I wouldn't want to miss such a brilliant sounding date. I'll see you at seven thirty. On the dot."
"Good."
"Good."
They didn't make a move to leave.
"I love you, McNamara."
"I know." He was too afraid to say it anywhere that wasn't his house or Wilbur's apartment. John's father had been an avid 'fag-beater' as he put it, so it was a little hard for John to be open.
Together they walked back to the portal room, and found that their friends were still in conversation.
A scientist came over before the door closed behind them.
"Good morning, Colonel Cross. We need to give you a quick check over before we send you in. Are you ready?"
He gave John one last smile before following after the scientist.
Before he knew it, he was standing in front of the portal, the inside of it black and white swirls. He stared hypnotized and excited. P.E.I.P. had told him a lot about the Lords In Black, and he knew they were playful and violent, but he was excited to venture where no man had ever gone before.
He took a step forward. Then another. Then another. He look behind him and to his friends one more time. They grinned and waved encouragingly. He took the final step.
It was cold. Must have been around 14°F. He shivered as he watched his breath dance in front of him. He tried to take a step, but found that he had begun to levitate.
He felt like he was on the moon, and began to hop along through the darkness, the glow of the portal getting dimmer as he travelled.
It was cold and quiet and there seemed to be nothing anywhere. There was no sign of the Lords. He was only slightly disappointed.
He felt the watch ticking along on his wrist, and a glance told him that he had been there for five minutes already. Twenty five more to go.
It was easy. There wasn't much to report back to P.E.I.P., so they would be disappointed, but that was fine. He was glad to not meet the Lords this time. He wanted to get to know the terrain first.
He spoke too soon.
It was twenty past seven when he heard it; the faint laugh of a child somewhere to his right.
He looked in the direction, but saw nothing.
The laughs sounded again, this time closer and to his left.
He looked at it, but again nothing.
Once more it laughed, now directly in his right ear.
When he turned to look, he saw it.
A gigantic, green, tentacled beast with bright acidic eyes.
"Hello, fwendy wend." It beamed before grabbing him with one of its tentacles, and bringing about the most excruciating pain Wilbur had ever felt.
...
The beast called itself Wiggog Y'rath, the king of the Black and White. It was obsessed with Wilbur. Not a minute passed without it inflicting some sort of pain, it's favourite was to squeeze him with its tentacles.
Months passed, he was only sure of that because he kept John's watch. It was his only connection to the outside world. Without it, he would have lost his mind sooner, he's certain of that.
By the time he gave in to Wiggog Y'rath, he had lost an eye (the beast promised to replace it if he behaved), his body ached no matter what, and he was more scar than skin. He was in agony.
"I'll fucking do it." He cried one afternoon when Wiggog was attempting to pull his arms off.
"What was that, fwend?" He stopped pulling, but held on to his arm threateningly.
"I said I'd do it." He panted, sweat dripping down his face.
"Good boy!" It grinned, dropping him to his knees with a thud. "Now, like I promised..."
His eye socket began to tremor, and then he could feel each vein and thread joining up and worming together to form a new eyeball. He did his best not to cry out in pain. He knew it would displease Wiggog Y'rath.
A few minutes passed, he was sure that the beast was dragging out the process to torture him more, but thankfully the pain did stop and his eye was replaced. He brought up a hand to touch his eyelid.
"I've made it a nice green. Better than that ugly brown your other one is. Of course you won't be able to see properly, because you were a very bad boy. Makes you look approachable though. That'll be good for my plans for you." It rambled.
"What are your plans?" He huffed, breath still caught in his chest. The air was thin in the Black and White.
"What are your plans, fwendy-wend?" It corrected.
"What are your plans, fwendy-wend?" His self-worth had left him entirely, otherwise he would have felt some type of shame at being a grown man forced to call someone his fwendy-wend.
"You are going to bring about my birth!" It cackled proudly, clasping its tentacles like hands.
He stayed silent, not knowing what he meant.
"We need to bring me to Earth so I can take control of it again, but because of my stupid fucking bitch sister I can't." Wilbur was surprised at the language from the baby voice. "So, you need to sell dolls of me to people. Then I pick a prophet, you give it to her, and I can come to Earth!"
He was silent again, this time from shock.
"Good, right?"
He couldn't find the words.
"I said, 'good, right?'" It tugged at his hair, pulling his head up to face it.