Chapter Two

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Wilbur goes back home.

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Wilbur's arrival to the house went unnoticed as he made his way to the kitchen. Skipping dinner might have been a bad idea on his part, he could admit. Skipping breakfast might have been a poor idea if confronted about it as well.

But Hey, if it got him out of having to silently sit in the kitchen and stare at a cup of tea until his stomach became ill, then so be it.

The lights of the kitchen had been dimmed down, a few stray candles lighting up the empty room. Wilbur ran a hand against the cool stone countertops as he went to investigate the cupboards.

Most things available to him would take time to prepare. It wasn't as if he could just suddenly cook something up for himself. It was risky, potentially drawing unwanted attention from his family. That being said, it wasn't like he could cook anyways.

He had always been particularly unskilled in the kitchen, fumbling with knives or accidentally burning his hands on the stove.

A sudden memory as he passed by the sink brought a smile to Will's face. It was a few years ago, back in their earlier teenage years when Techno was about fifteen , Wilbur was thirteen, and Tommy was nine. He remembered one time that he was in the kitchen bright and early one morning with Phil and Tommy. It was Techno's birthday and the older individual had a habit of sleeping in on most days--if he slept at all that is. That day was one of the luckier ones as they had a few hours to plan and get everything prepared.

It was supposed to be something relatively simple that they could produce, something potato related he thinks? Wilbur could never remember what it was for the life of him. His brother was never one for sweets so baking anything for his special day was out of the question.

In the end, Wilbur was taken off of the kitchen not only for that morning but for the rest of his life apparently. A few constant apologies and an tired yet understanding talk later, the birthday breakfast-lunch was completed and delivered to a sleepy yet appreciative Techno.

It wasn't like it was all his fault that he got stressed due to the heat rising from the fire. It was a perfectly normal response! Not everyone works under the same conditions.

The same couldn't be said for the amount of slip up cuts that littered his fingers. Knives were such finicky things. He couldn't imagine being in control of something like a blade when in battle. Not like how Technoblade or Tommy could.

"Butter fingers," he mumbled to himself as he moved onto another part of the kitchen to search.

Now they, they were amazing. More so Techno than Tommy. Techno had a way with weapons that could make any enemy regret ever crossing his path. It had always been like that for as long as he could remember. It was natural, Techno being the superior one in battle. Sometimes it felt like the occasional and rare training Will did with Phil wasn't even worth it sometimes.

Why bother, right?

And with his current dedication, Tommy looked like he was following right in his footsteps. Whenever Will looked for his youngest brother he could either find him with Phil in the yard, attacking some random training dummy or pinned beneath Techno's foot after a spur of the moment sparring session. Wilbur was proud of his brother, both of them for that fact, they were truly shaping up to be something someday. And if they didn't, that was okay. They could handle themselves and if they really decided to pursue something grander in this life, they could do it without question.

Will pondered if the same could really apply to himself though.

After all of his searching eventually found a piece of fruit to eat. An apple was simple enough and would do. Content my, Wilbur munched on the apple as he leaned forward against the counter with his elbows resting gently.

He could never say that he was particularly the best at anything combat wise. Techno's strength and ability to land critical hits went unmatched in their home, even when compared to their seasoned father. Tommy had areas like his stamina and speed that would push him to continue on a fight even if the odds weren't in his favor.

If he thought deeper about it, Wilbur could find a few things about himself. He was pretty okay with a bow, his aim being better than what could be perceived as average. Oh!, He could also count for his agility? Maybe? He had always found that he was a bit lighter on his feet than the others were and that definitely had to account for something.

The mere thought about that one good thing brought a smile to his face. Even if there wasn't anything to bring home about, the small boost of confidence he received was enough.

It wasn't as if he tried to point these things out on purpose. It sure isn't helping his mood that he just managed to recover, that's for sure. It's just... so hard to ignore what's so blatantly obvious.

Wilbur would always try his best, if not for what was left of his self-esteem, he would do it for Phil. Always for Phil.

Even if he knew he wasn't the most skilled, wasn't the one he would approach first, even if he wasn't the favorite, Wilbur still wanted to make him proud. To bring a smile to his face.

It was hard to compete with the literal definition of a perfect warrior and spontaneous charisma gremlin child, but Wilbur could Damn well try. With every day it felt like his chances were slipping, tilting and making his opportunities smaller and smaller, making things more difficult than he supposed it should be. Those thoughts began to fester, growing and spreading as quickly as they popped in his mind. They cluttered and infect him as he uncomfortably shifted, blinking a few times to try and clear his mind.

A sight of defeat left him as he ran a hand through his hair. "What's the point of trying anymore?" He asked himself, a mouthful of apple jumbling the words, thumbs caressing the apple's formerly shiny exterior.

"What's the point of what?" Asked a tired voice behind Will. The tall teen immediately coughed, almost choking on pieces of apple that now laid on the counter uneaten.

Techno stood at the entrance to the kitchen, his hair remaining unbraided and, quite frankly, a mess. He let his body weight lean him against the door frame as he crossed his arms, eyebrows raised as he watched the figure in front of him clean up the remaining apple.

"Oh, hello Techno. I see you haven't gotten your hair all fixed up. Do you want me to? I know you can sometimes get upset with me and my pace, which is understandable!" All the while, Wilbur had just tossed out the remains of the apple in the garbage, both spitten out and uneaten. It was a simple motion, something done without a second thought. As if it was a reflex.

"I just wouldn't want you suddenly chopping it all off since you couldn't fix it. Not saying you couldn't, I'm just saying.. uh.. yeah. But I can help!" Will nervously chuckled as he rubbed the back of his neck. Suddenly he found the tiling on the floor to become extremely interesting.

Techno looked Wilbur up and down, carefully looking him over. The apple had gone unnoticed but Wilbur's speech question hadn't. Techno wasn't a fool. He noticed that Wilbur had completely neglected the attention. It was probably something random. With Wilbur it could have been something about the old stories he had read in his spare time or the training he went through with dad. It could have been anything really.

His brother's mind was a bit of a mystery to him. He didn't know what to do at that moment. So he acquiesced.

"That would be much appreciated. We can go to my room if that's alright. Your's is a bit too close to Tommy for my comfort." Techno turned around to walk to his room and Wilbur followed in step with a chuckle. He was thankful that Techno didn't mention anything from before. He preferred it that way.

The braiding session was quick and silent, just as they normally went. Conversations often ended up a bit awkward, but it was mutual. Mutual was comfortable. Wilbur retreated back to his room and buried himself under the covers, eyes dropping closed as he curled up into a ball.

Maybe tomorrow would be just a bit better.

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