The Baker's Sons

Short Sanctuary (5)

Wilbur almost skid on the wet path as he came barreling around the corner. In his mind all he could process was the instinct to get away from the danger. He could almost hear all the familiar sounds, all the horrible smells of childhood flooding his senses leaving him alone in the rising chaos. Something in the shouts coming from behind him sounded like his father, swirling and mixing into the sounds of village people babbling. He felt his body slam into people as he ran, yet he didn't dare stop. In his side there was sharp pain from a probably swelling bruise and the back of his head hurt unimaginably. Tiny claws were just digging into his other side through his clothing making it even more overwhelming.
As he reached the first open door he could find, he all but threw himself inside and scanned the area with wild eyes. He distantly recognized the stacked shelves of sweets and the glow of the displays. There was not much time to truly realize where he was, as the shouts and footsteps were getting louder by the second. Wilbur's head was spinning in all sorts of pain and fear. It felt like it was rising up from his feet, making his hands tremble and sting, forcing its way up through his throat and into his mouth. He wanted to scream but in the end all that was pushed out of his lips was a muted
"Help."
And after years of this plea receiving no response, it finally happened. A strong, stable hand was placed on his back. Not one of anger or ferocity, but one of hesitant gentleness and concern. One that did not make Wilbur further succumb to the painful sparks of fear in his gut. The young boy allowed his body to be lead further into this warm building, just shocked enough by the response to stay quiet. He was guided down to the floor behind the display counter, sat up against the wood. A warm cloth was settled around him as he stared unfocused at the figure so graciously helping him. It was an incredibly familiar figure.
Wilbur held his breath to listen to the footsteps grow closer to the building, finally close enough to be just outside of the door. But instead of disturbing the one sense of comfort the boy had, the threatening stomping of men rushed past the open doors to fade into the commotion of village life. After a tense moment to make sure the threat was gone, Wilbur let out a huge breath. He shakily sucked in breath after breath, trying to calm his fluttering heart and not have a panic attack. Tears made his eyes glossy, not making it any easier to focus on the steady form still hovering over him in an almost protective manner. It didn't seem to say anything, just watched Wilbur closely.
After what was likely ages, Wilbur's eyes cleared and he recognized the kind baker that had given him sanctuary from the monstrous men. The baker had still not said a word, simply waiting for Wilbur to pull himself out of the pit just enough to be aware of his environment. Though something in his eyes probably made it obvious that he made the connection, because the baker offered him an overly kind smile. One that made his cheeks push up and his eyes squint closed. The man's shoulders relaxed from their pent up position and he sat backwards across from Wilbur.
Part of Wilbur wanted to enjoy the considerate silence that laid over the bakery like a blanket, but as he became more aware of the situation, he was worried he was overstaying his welcome. The warmth was so tempting, but there was no way the baker did that for nothing. Surely he would have to pay the man back. Wilbur pulled his legs up to his chest and started to stand up wobbly, using the counter as support.
"Thank you sir" He tried his hardest to communicate his gratitude, "I really must be going. I wish I could repay you for this act."
When he expected a demand for compensation, he was met with a confused expression. One that for a moment made him wonder if he had messed up again, and that he would receive a punishment for not paying the baker. Until the baker shook his head and laughed. It didn't sound entirely genuine, but definitely a laugh fit for his face. "No no boy, there is no need to repay me. After all, all I did was hide you behind the counter for a couple minutes. That's definitely not something pay worthy, and even then you were about to be hunted down by those barbarians" The baker paused as Wilbur started heading towards the door, "Do you want to stay here for awhile? It looks like it's going to be a cold night tonight, you would be welcome to stay til morning! One of my boys may have some spare bedding."
The concern in the baker's eyes caused Wilbur to consider this offer for maybe a moment. The worry seemed so genuine that he almost couldn't pass it up. He knew it would just be getting colder from here. The words of his father flashed through his mind, overtaking the decision for him and turning him away from the kindness. Wilbur was too selfish and undeserving of such wonderful offers.
Wilbur shook his head and started heading out the door rather quickly, leaving the baker stunned by the quick decline. He could hear the man hurriedly call after him, asking for him to come back, to listen. But Wilbur didn't listen and continued walking down the path of the village before ducking through some back alleyways.
He didn't deserve help.

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I apologize for the absence, but I can't say this will be updated "soon" or at all. I did not proof read this, but I assume everyone can understand any mistakes or word misusage without pointing it out. Thank you.

Technoblade never dies