there is only us | wilbur soot x reader

Chapter 35 - Watcher

Fundy POV

The thing about being human is that, no matter who you are or what you do, people will make assumptions about you. It doesn't matter if you have ten dollars or ten million, factory worker or supervisor; judgment and prejudice are the price that everyone pays. I have taken it upon myself to collect these assumptions like tokens, to sift through every baseless conclusion and find the root of them, the reason behind them. I have learned, over time, that if you watch closely enough, almost every assumption can be proven wrong.

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The thing about being a kid is that everyone underestimates you. They ignore, they forget, they become careless. When you are young they assume you know nothing. When you are a kid you can tuck yourself away in a corner of a room and blend in with the shadows and listen and watch and observe.

I have spent my whole life observing. Wide eyes, strained ears, patience. I have mastered the art of staying hidden, of holding my breath, of catching secrets on my tongue like snowflakes. The thing about being a kid is that guards start to slip. Walls come down and words spill out easier because everyone assumes they are falling on deaf ears. Nobody expects a kid to know the definition of the word coup or rebellion or traitor.

Even stranger, I have come to find that when they do realize I know what they are talking about, they are still unbothered. Who cares, anyway? What is this little kid going to do about it?

They look down on kids like me and don't realize that the trap is above them. They tease and laugh and coddle their way right into an early grave. Then, only then, with their hands bound by their own mistakes, do their eyes clear and start to see me for what I truly am. They look up at me then, because I am taller when they are on their knees, and they whisper stammering sentences to match the pity and fear on their faces.

"Who are you?" and "Why are you like this?" As if they have never seen anything worse than a boy in men's clothing. As if their hands are not coated in the blood of little kids. The thing about kids like me is that we don't start off this way. We are born just the same as any other, with wide eyes and innocence and hope. The thing about kids like me is that people like them stain our blank slates, take our fresh soil and poison it, strangle the children and leave corpses for us to grow into. They break our backs and heal them unevenly, and we are permanently hunched over like we are carrying the world. They tear out our hearts and fill the gaping hole with stuffing that only beats at the pull of a string.

The thing about kids like me is that we were born into a world where we were forced to grow up too fast.

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The thing about (Y/n) is that, for the longest time, I just couldn't figure her out. Sometimes, I don't think she even knows what she's doing. At first, I was wary. She was the silent, watchful kind, like a shadow you never pay any mind to. Like me, in a way. But then she wasn't. Then she burst from her hiding place in a blaze of glory, impossible to ignore, and she's been burning down everything in her path ever since.

It's almost admirable. I had heard of her, obviously, but the first time I saw her I never would have guessed she was a queen. She had been waiting for Wilbur at the door, in a plain tee and a bandaged shoulder, hair frazzled and body restless.

She reminded me of Wilbur, of his barely concealed anxiety, constantly moving, fighting, thinking, fearing for the worst.

"You are awfully sassy for an eight-year-old." Gods above, she even sounded like him. They were made for each other.

I think the first thing I saw in (Y/n) was her courage. In the beginning, it is hard to tell bravery from stupidity, but as time went on, the points stacked up. Her constant defiance of Wilbur, from getting medical help to following them to the battlefield, branded brave in her wake. I could see the parallels even then; Wilbur would risk himself for his people. (Y/n) would risk herself for him.