I sit with Sam at the edge of a table, both digging into a plate of vegetables that have been stewed beyond recognition. We've taken to spending a lot of our free time together, even though there's not much to say, because the silence suits us fine enough. Because Sam was attacked by Schlatt, he got the green light to directly involve the Badlands in the fight, so he stayed behind to receive the troops when they arrive.
Dream left for the front a few days ago, but it's not close enough to the front to be too worried, even if I didn't get the daily updates on his wellbeing. Tommy, Tubbo and Niki are here with me, working in the medical bay or in the armoury. Sapnap and Eret are both heading different prongs of the army, similar to Dream. Punz works in and out, him and Danny locked away in a meeting room most of them time, or spending the day with Dream or Sapnap.
"You know we still have no idea who tipped Schlatt off." Sam says through a mouthful of food.
I screw up my nose, glaring at him from across the table. "Don't speak with your mouth full."
He rolls his eyes, aggressively chewing until he gets his food down so he can speak again. "We got some some resistance people to start working on it."
"Could have been anyone, you know that."
"I'm just worried about them releasing more shit."
I nod, mindlessly stabbing my fork into the almost shapeless mass on my plate. "Anything on Wil?"
"I've put everyone on alert, but so far nothing."
"I can't believe he'd just disappear after we've finally started the war, it just doesn't make sense."
"Well he's not exactly the picture of stability Rosie, you can't really predict what he's going to do."
I almost snort directly into my lunch, clapping a hand over my nose and mouth. "I know, but he was pretty set on this."
Sam shrugs. "Probably didn't happen in the exact way he pictured it so now he's off in the woods to have a sulk."
"Jesus christ." I mutter, shaking my head. "It's a miracle this got off the ground, everyone in charge of this shit is crazy."
"It's a requirement apparently." Sam smiles at me. "Hey, at least the second boyfriend is well-adjusted."
I grin back. "I figured it out eventually, only took me two tries."
"Number one has been doing alright out there, I do have to say."
My voice shortens involuntarily. "He's committed."
Sam knows why I immediately close up. We've talked about this concept of an after for a while now, even back when I lived in the ravine, right after the festival and Quackity's death, we've both seen it coming. He knows the acknowledgement of Punz and Dream makes me remember, he knows it's all I'm thinking about.
Once, while we were both observing some soldiers with food poisoning, Nina suggested I should make them duel to the death so they'd figure it out for me. It grows to be a favourable option each day.
The silence is broken when Niki slides into the empty spot next to Sam, looking exhausted. Her icy blonde hair is pulled back into a ponytail, but the fly-aways stand up on her head like a blond halo. Her cheeks are flushed red from exertion, and she barely manages a nod in greeting.
"Rough day?" Sam asks, turning to Niki, who just lets out a long sigh in response.
"Apparently so." I answer for her. She moves on to ignores the both of us, digging in to her plate of food.
I turn back to Sam. "Anything on Schlatt?"
"Nothing new, he hasn't been sighted for a day now. We just assume he's bunkered down out of the action."
"You should put more pressure on him."Niki suddenly says, before immediately shovelling a spoonful of vegetables in her mouth. We both turn back to her, Sam weary, and me nodding enthusiastically.
"That's what I said."
Sam scowls. "You know it's not happening."
Niki doesn't even look up from her plate, but shrugs anyway. "He'll snap eventually, may as well be to our benefit."
I raise my eyebrows pointedly to Sam. "Exactly what I said."
"The resistance are terrified of him, they'll never agree to it, and so no-one else will either." Sam sighs. I've heard these words recited again and again.
"These people are so- they're just so useless." Niki hisses at her food.
There's tension in the armies, between the resistance and Dream's troops, and the incoming Badlands soldiers, the difference between duty and moral conviction and revenge, a clash of different people with starkly different attitudes to this fight. I can hear the chatter at the bedsides in the medical wing, the contempt in the voices of the resistance, the mockery in those of Dream's army.
There's a reason we call them The Resistance, still, even though we're technically the same. Different stories, different allegiances. The resistance falter for the same reasons they've been able to make it this far, this ideological conviction that weaves through them, as much apart of them as anything else.
It keeps them together, but it makes them stubborn, blind to other options, blind to the nasty, cruel arenas where a war is truly won.
"Sam." Eerily, one of the resistance men materialise at the end of the table, clutching a dirty bit of paper in his hands. He wordlessly passes the note over to Sam, who furrows his brows as he reads it.
"Sam?" I nudge his leg with my foot underneath the table, trying to get his attention, but his eyes are glued to the paper, not even acknowledging me. "Sam, what is it?"
"Uh it's Wilbur." Sam eventually says, sounding thoroughly confused. Even Niki looks up.
"Wilbur?"
"Yeah- yeah it says some scouts saw him in L'manburg."
Both Niki and I freeze instantly, and I know, I know she's had that same stab in the gut feeling that I have.
"Where? Where in L'manburg."
Sam's forehead creases again as he squints at the paper. The man from the resistance is still standing there, looking down at all of us. I can't read his expression. "Doesn't say, but this scouting party was somewhere up North, last I can remember."
Niki and I meet eyes again, the shock mirrored on both of our faces. I've known Wil for long time, and Niki probably knows him better, even through everything, even through his descent into madness.
Wilbur isn't stupid or insane enough to just be wandering around behind the enemy frontlines, despite what people may thing. He hasn't lost his mind so completely he has no bearings of his sense of self. In fact, he never really lost his mind. What he lost, was anything that he cared about, anything that tethered that instability to something to stand for, he lost his values, his beliefs, and with that, everything else around him.
He still has his mind, now I can see that.
"What?" Sam glances between us, more concerned than confused. "What do you two know?"
