𝚅𝚎𝚛𝚋𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚖 (𝚂𝚌𝚑𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚋𝚞𝚛) (𝙳𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚖 𝚂𝙼𝙿)

𝙻𝚘𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝙵𝚊𝚌𝚎

It bothered Wilbur to take the contrasts of the past two days and compare it to now. The man he had not only ruined a perfectly good bed with, but also scarred a child and a literal god with, had done a complete 180 and dropped kicked Alex out of his own home.

Literally.

Schlatt had sat, tied up in the chair, watching Wilbur, Tommy, and Techno comfort the man he had brutally attacked outside their home. The pink haired man had made Alex something to drink, seemingly ignoring the hot water they had been in, while the two Brit's listened to his story about what happened, trying to console him throughout it.

Wilbur had never felt so disgusted. It hurt him, it really did. Maybe he shouldn't have gone off with the American. Maybe he shouldn't have given him a chance. Or, maybe, Wilbur shouldn't blame him. He obviously wasn't okay, and when they had first reunited, he was clearly switching in between two people.

Two very different people.

The three men listened to Alex ramble on, before his face melted into more despair, suddenly becoming quiet. The three turned, looking at Schlatt, who was glaring daggers at him. The American suddenly stopped when his eyes met Wilbur's, shame replacing his death glare. Tommy looked at the fellow Brit, whispering to him, his face grim when the ghost nodded. Wilbur got up, moving over to Schlatt, who stared at the floor, in clear worry.

"Schlatt. Look at me, please."

He looked up, a single tear running down his face.

"Y-yeah?"

"Techno, Tommy and me have come to a... consensus."

Shame, once again, showed up on Schlatt's face, as he directed his eyes back at the ground. He nodded, obviously knowing what was coming.

"We've come to the consensus that until you've gotten your..."

Wilbur bit his lip, trying to think of a nice way to say this.

"Until you're mental... illness is a tad bit under control, you are no longer allowed in this home. Techno doesn't want to risk you hurting Tommy, or me. Mostly me, as I'm around you more and because you could 'easily manipulate me'."

Schlatt's face dropped even more, Wilbur immediately feeling the overwhelming sadness washing over him. An emotion he shouldn't be feeling. Not towards this man at least. I guess both men had done a complete 180 overnight.

"I... I get it. I do. You can't trust someone who's """"bIpOlAr"""" I guess."

He snarled out, venom dripping from his words. He spoke like he spoke to Fundy; clear malice hidden under every word, meant to hurt the person he was talking to. And, god, the sarcasm was layered so thick over everything he said, it wasn't even funny. Suddenly, all pity and sympathy Wilbur felt towards this man disappeared. Though his mental state was a bit childish, the Brit would not accept being talked to like this, especially by this man.

"Don't talk to me like that."

"Oh, you're starting to sound like my dad."

"Good, because you're acting like a child!"

Wilbur raised his voice, Schlatt doing the same, bringing attention to the three others currently talking in the corner of the room, next to the windows. Tommy got up, walking over.

"Split it up, you two. Wilbur, there's no point in arguing with him. It's like yelling at a brick wall."

"Shut your ass up, Tommy. I'm not the one with the IQ level of a Spruce slab."

The blonde British boy looked at Schlatt, glaring at him.

"I'm not the one who managed to ruin my relationship in the span of two days."

-——-—-——-—-—-——-——-—-——-—-—-——-——-

Wilbur sat outside the cottage, staring at the glowing light of the portal just beyond the trees, his grey eyes searching and scanning for anything. Techno and Tommy were inside, and Alex was back in L'manberg. Schlatt, after released from his confines, had disappeared, leaving a scorch mark on the wooden floors.

So much had fallen apart today, and he, personally, didn't want to dwell on it. He had lost so much when he died, and yet today, he felt like he lost more. His brain tried to rationalize, telling him that Schlatt was just a shark in the ocean, and that there were so many fish out there he could find. Perhaps literally, perhaps not.

He was brought back to reality when the sound of someone coming through the portal echoed throughout the snowy lands. He sat up straight in the chair he was in, preparing to either warn Techno, or to bring in a ally. He noticed the bright orange, the snow crunching under boots, the golden medallions shining in the moonlight.

Fundy walked up to the home, smiling at Wilbur. His ear looked better, along with his chest. Eret did a mighty fine job with healing him. The grey ghost gave him a slight wave, before leading him inside. Techno led Fundy towards the ladders, going to a room the pink haired man liked to call "The Meeting Room."

Wilbur crouched up, setting himself down on a chair, Tommy coming over to him.

"Hey Big W. You doing ok?"

He spoke softly, something the blonde British boy wouldn't usually do.

"Yeah. I guess. I don't know."

The ghost sighed, messing with the hem of his sweater.

"It hurts a bit, I guess."

"I'm sorry it didn't work out that well, Wil. Maybe you two will fix your relationship?"

"It's not that, Tommy. It's the fact that I blatantly ignored his mental issues. That's what hurts. My ignorance."

The blonde boy bit his lip, looking down.

"Yeah..."

They were silent, before Techno came rushing up the stairs, Fundy following. The pink haired man looked distressed, grabbing his armor.

"Tommy, get suited up, we're going to L'manberg right now. Wilbur, you two."

"Wait, why?"

"Tubbo ain't doing so good. Niki sent Fundy here to tell us."

"Wait, what happened?"

"No one knows. He just showed up to Niki's house, practically bleeding out. Poor boy wouldn't say a word."

Techno rushed out, Fundy following. Tommy hurried, getting his armor on, before running out of the home. Wilbur went out, staying behind the men as they ran towards the portal, their purple armor clanking together, glinting in the moonlight. They were talking about what could've happened as they stood in the purple fountain of light.

There was no need for suspicion.

Wilbur knew what happened.

History really does repeat itself.