Chapter Text
Wilbur drummed his fingertips off the edge of Bad's table. He was still getting used to it- to the lack of a pulse going through his hands- and he was much stronger than he'd been before.
Before Technoblade had found him bleeding out on the side of the road and then decided to help him.
The wood splintered under his hand and he drew it away with a hushed sorry to the demon in front of him. Bad was making an effort today to stay corporeal - these days, he seemed to be in a constant state of dark smoke. The demon tilted his head and tried to smile, but Wilbur could see the stress weigh on his face.
He supposed he would feel the same if it were Tommy.
"You wanted to make a contract?" Bad's smile was forced. Wilbur nodded, flicking his hair out of his face. He didn't quite have a soul anymore to trade to the demon for a favor, it was solidly locked in his body now. Not that he'd be that stupid, regardless.
"I can heal Skeppy." Wilbur raised his eyes as the words fell out of his mouth. Bad visibly stilled, the smoke that formed his body on this plane raging around him. Wilbur understood- Skeppy was Bad's favourite human and he was dying, and nobody knew why. He'd been found, collapsed in the garden he and Bad frequented, and his condition had deteriorated since. George had tried to heal him but nothing had come of it. He'd contacted all the other witches he knew - the witches never had any formal council or way of contact, but George was relatively well-connected. Anyone who could have helped just hadn't answered. Wilbur knew Bad was losing hope, that he was desperate for anyone to save his human. Wilbur was banking on it.
"...what." Bad's voice turned gravelly as the red in his body flared at the force of his emotion. Wilbur merely hummed, holding up a finger.
"In exchange, I want guaranteed protection for my little brother and a place for him to live here." Wilbur watched as Bad considered his words, sitting down and exhaling a plume of ashes.
"I can't make Technoblade accept him into his coven," Bad sounded hesitant. "He's human, isn't he? He's not a vampire. I can't make-"
"He isn't human."
"Then what is he?"
"To be frank," Wilbur sighed, blowing his hair out of his face again. "We don't know. Never had time to properly look into it. All we do know is that there seems to be a bounty on his head, because we have come up close and personal with just about every monster in this entire city. They've all wanted Tommy's blood." Wilbur had always had Tommy.
He'd found the kid, just a few months old, abandoned on the forest floor. Wilbur was eight. He remembered thinking that Tommy was a raccoon, at first, but nope. Just a little baby.
They'd lived in a village first, Wilbur working where he could and introducing people to his little brother, Tommy. He told the lies, said their parents had died and Tommy was all he had left. The latter was the only true part of that statement, but the townspeople had never needed to know that. But once Tommy hit six, it was like a switch had been flipped. They'd been on the run since.
"Deal." Bad slapped his hand down on the table, palm outstretched for Wilbur to take. He did, feeling the magic of their contact settle into his skin. He knew Technoblade would be angry that he hadn't been consulted first, but Wilbur really couldn't give less of shit what his sire thought. "If Technoblade does not accept him into the coven, he will have a place here with myself and Skeppy."
Wilbur nodded. He stepped out of his chair, gesturing for Bad to follow him.
"Can you port us to the northern outskirts of the city? Right by the massive forest Skeppy's scared of."
Bad gave him a skeptical look, but complied. Apparently teleporting was supposed to be a truly nauseating experience, but for vampires, it was nothing.
The forest loomed ahead of them, dark and foreboding.
"This place is Unseelie territory," Bad's eyes were fixed on the ashen dust piles. "We cannot enter."
"They'll let me in and they'll let you in cause you're with me," Wilbur waved a hand dismissively. "They like Tommy."
"The Unseelie like your brother?"
"He rescued one from this crazy asshole once. They clearly haven't forgotten, cause as soon as we settled here, they started protecting the cottage. Hasn't stopped monsters from barging in anyway, but it helps," Wilbur led them through a carefully placed path, dark eyes following their every move. Unseelie fairies - smaller than their Seelie counterparts and far more dangerous. While the Seelie were terrible gossips, loved a good show or a good prank, the Unseelie enjoyed every drop of agony they could wring from an unwilling victim. They weren't creatures anyone wanted to piss off. "Apparently they take life debts pretty seriously."
"...I would imagine so."
Bad followed Wilbur, glancing around at the fairies watching them every so often. Little whispers and piles of ashen grey fairie dust followed them as the creatures did, red eyed and looking for blood.
"They like Techno, too," at Wilbur's scoff, Bad sighed. "But I suppose he hasn't told you that, has he?"
"Hasn't told me much of anything," Wilbur muttered, picking his way around the brambles surrounding the path. "He just leaves me with a stack of books and fucks off. Heaven forbid he spend some time with the person he literally turned into a vampire. " he rolled his eyes. To be quite honest, he was fed up with being stuck in a row with a pile of books about vampires. If he had to see one more goddamn diagram about how vampires were able to exist, he was going to scream. Bad let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. His feet followed Wilbur's prints exactly- which was good, he didn't want Bad to step on the brambles and then Wilbur'd have to explain why the things had a harming curse on them, and he'd really not like to point out that his baby brother was prone to magical tantrums.
"He is a very busy man. I haven't asked him to, but he's been searching tirelessly for a cure for Skeppy. I'm sure when this mess is over, he will happily teach you himself. Although… I do have to ask," the end of the line of trees was in sight. "How are you going to heal Skeppy? We haven't found anything that could help him, what makes you so sure you can do it?" Bad's voice was shaking and Wilbur didn't blame him one bit. He knew he'd be the same, if it were Tommy. Wilbur turned, pinning his blood red eyes on Bad as they stepped into the clearing. A little stone path marked their trail, leading up the plumes of smoke coming from a cabin's chimney.
"I'm not going to heal him. Tommy is," Wilbur started off towards the cabin, hands in his pockets and Bad by his side. "He can definitely do it, I snuck him a vial of Skeppy's blood the last time Ponk tested it and he was able to tell what was wrong and how to go about fixing it." Bad had a contemplative look on his face, opening and closing his mouth a few times as they approached the heavy wooden door. Wilbur had never liked how large the thing was- most monsters that chased Tommy were larger, had strength behind them, but Tommy was a beanpole. It was hard for him to just shoulder the door open, and Wilbur knew that it would take precious seconds off an escape. He'd known that when he settled here three weeks ago, but they'd had no other option at the time.
"Does… does he look human?" Bad rubbed at his chin, humming in thought.
"Yeah, looks human. Does things that are distinctly not-human."
"Like?"
"Uhh- he can blast fireballs. Create and set off these explosives, um. He can heal… he can do minor injuries in one go, but he usually uses potions n shit for the bigger ones and diseases so he doesn't overwork himself. He makes friends with fairies and other semi-friendly creatures that eat humans," Wilbur counted off his fingers as did a quick knock on the door, two short, a pause, then three long, to let Tommy know he was here. "And he knows shit, it's honestly the weirdest thing. Sometimes I'll just be vibing, living my life- oh, excuse me, 'living' out my immortal undead after life - and he'll just point at something and go 'there were three people executed in that room using blood magic in an attempt to summon a demon in 1827' and all you can do is go 'that's great Tommy' because what else am I supposed to say?" he shouldered the door open, letting them into the cabin. The fireplace was on, but the rest of the main room was a mess. Bad let out a questioning whine, tensing up at what probably looked like a break-in.
They'd found a bunch of books in the place, the pages of which were strewn about the floor along with the glass of several shattered bottles.
"This is old news," Wilbur waved his hands at the mess, trying to ease the hard line on Bad's mouth. "We actually were getting chased by a chimera who wanted Tommy's head, I grabbed its attention and bolted. That's how uh-Technoblade found me."
"Oh," understanding dawned in Bad's face and he relaxed. "Is he here?"
"Might be sleeping," Wilbur hummed, stepping around the glass. Before he even had time to find his favourite air horn, there was a loud crash upstairs, followed by muffled cursing. Small thumps grew closer, Bad's face slowly pinching back into the worried expression Wilbur had seen on him since he'd met him, and then Tommy appeared at the top of the stairs, all wild blue eyes and dishevelled blonde hair, lightning arcing from his calves and fingertips. Before Wilbur could even open his mouth, Tommy flung himself down the stairs.
Wilbur cursed, flying forwards with the speed of a vampire, catching his idiot brother before he could hit the ground. "Tommy!" Wilbur scolded, but he kept the kid in his arms anyway. Tommy wrapped around him, like a little baby koala, and Wilbur sighed as he kissed the top of Tommy's head.
"It's three pm, why are you still in pajamas?" Wilbur huffed, resting his chin on Tommy's head as Tommy burrowed into his chest. Tommy had always had severe separation anxiety- Wilbur wasn't sure why, he hoped Bad might have an answer that wasn't trauma. He navigated them over to the couch, picking his way through piles of glass. Bad's eyebrow was raised, his eyes blown wide as he followed.
"What?" Wilbur held Tommy a little tighter, laying back on the couch and letting Tommy cling to him. He scratched one hand through Tommy's scalp, letting the other rub up and down his back. "Why do you look like that?"
"He's-" Bad shook his head, but the awe in his eyes didn't vanish. "He's a pure witch. I can feel the magic coming off of him."
"Isn't George a witch?"
"George is only half witch," at Wilbur's questioning look, Bad elaborated. He talked with his hands. "When we say half or quarter witch, we mean that half of their body contains magic. Half witches require some kind of conduit to pull their magic out, so if they lose or damage their conduit, they're out of commission, and the magic they can do is limited to their few specialties. Pure witches are exactly what they sound like- their bodies produce torrents of magic and they can use it without any conduits. In my time, I've only met one other pure witch, and she was one of the most powerful beings I've seen." Bad cupped his chin, staring down at Tommy.
"Don't talk about me like I'm not here," Tommy groaned. Wilbur looked down as his brother turned his head to glare at Bad. "Bitch." Tommy nodded to himself before burying his head back in Wilbur's collarbone. Wilbur did not like the look of the bags under his eyes. Kid could never sleep without Wilbur there, anyway. Bad chuckled, a smile gracing his face.
"Aren't you just the cutest little muffin?" Tommy made a protesting noise, cut off when Wilbur started playing with his hair again. "You're so young- Wilbur, Wilbur, how old is he? Witches are near immortal, they usually reach their age of maturity around one hundred and twenty years."
"...he's sixteen."
"Oh, he's just a little baby, no wonder he's so attached," Bad cooed, coming closer and leaning over Tommy. Wilbur's arms tightened. He couldn't help the flood of possessiveness that went through him- it'd been mentioned in one of the books Wilbur had skimmed. He kind of wished he'd actually read them more, now. Bad grinned at him, all sharp canines. "He thinks of you as his guardian, his caregiver, so he'll get upset when he's left alone." Bad's hand almost came down to pet Tommy's hair, but Wilbur growled. He could feel the threat burning up in his chest, rumbling as Bad hummed and stepped away.
"Sorry," Wilbur closed his eyes, following the instinct to bury his nose in Tommy's hair. "Hey, Toms. Bad's got a friend- the vial of blood I gave you the other day? That's his friend and he's real sick. Think you could come help us out?"
"'M not a baby." Tommy propped his chin up on Wilbur's chest, narrowing his eyes at his big brother. Wilbur laughed, feeling the happy little trickles burst up his throat.
"Of course not, only the biggest of men can help heal sick people." he cooed. He could feel the stretch in his cheeks as he grinned down at Tommy. He really had missed this- since Technoblade had turned him, he'd been forced to stay with his sire's coven. He'd tried to escape multiple times, each ending in failure, with Technoblade saying that humans shouldn't be pulled into a vampire's world unless absolutely necessary. No matter how much Wilbur pleaded or told him that Tommy wasn't human, his sire had refused to budge. Technoblade couldn't stop Bad from taking him, though. At least then Wilbur would be able to see Tommy regularly.