there is only us | wilbur soot x reader

Chapter 42 - Shake

(Y/n) POV

On the ride back to the Dream SMP, we were silent. Tommy, Tubbo, and Fundy sat on one bench and Wilbur and I sat on the other. Niki offered to stay in L'manberg and observe the fallout. I supposed that was all we could do now; watch and wait.

Fundy had attempted to make small talk in the beginning but quickly realized that no one else was in the mood. After that, no one spoke. Tommy tucked his legs up against his chest and rested his head on his knees, hiding his face. Tubbo slumped down in his seat, legs slightly sprawled, and fidgeted with the buttons on his sleeve. Fundy leaned his head against the window and fell asleep, or at least pretended to.

Wilbur sat still, frozen as a statue, with perfect posture. His hands rested, palm up, on his knees and he stared down at them the entire ride. Every time they twitched, he flipped them over. One twitch, palm down. Another, palm up. Twitch, flip. Twitch, flip.

Halfway through the ride, Wilbur's hand twitched and before he could turn them so his palms were facing up, I reached out and placed my hand over his, gentle but firm. He blinked out of his haze and looked up at me, surprised, and Tubbo glanced over at the movement briefly.

His eyes met mine and they were soft in a way I had never seen before. I thought I had seen every version of Wilbur; angry, tired, excited, defiant, wanting— but this was something else entirely. This was crystal clear and fragile, like the calm surface of a lake that could be ruined with a single touch. It was vulnerable and shaky and a little bit scared.

His next twitch was more of a violent shudder, starting abruptly at his shoulders and running all the way down his back. He flipped his hands over, but instead of pushing mine away, he slid his fingers in between mine and held on tight. He didn't twitch after that.

Instead, he stared down at our interlocked hands, absently tracing patterns into my skin with his thumb. I stared, too. We said nothing. We were silent. I could tell Wilbur was working through a heavy weight I couldn't begin to comprehend and knew that when he needed to talk, he would. Until then, all I could do was watch and wait and keep him company as he worked through everything.

When the carriage finally pulled to a stop, Tubb was the first to move. He shook Fundy awake and gently pulled Tommy out of the ball he had curled into. I expected Wilbur to get up and follow, maybe snapping out of his thoughts or even just going numbly, but he stayed rooted where he was and held on to my hand for dear life, so I did too.

We sat there, silent, until we weren't. "He changed the name," Wilbur said suddenly, his voice raspy with disuse. It took me a moment to understand what he was saying. "He took away the L. He changed the name."

It was true. In Schlatt's acceptance speech, he declared that his first action would be getting rid of the 'L' in L'manberg and making it simply "Manberg."

"Is that what you are upset about?" I asked slowly, cautiously, prodding him into addressing the real problem, but also allowing him a way out.

"He took L'manberg," Wilbur said, similar but different. "He changed the name. There is no more L'manberg."

I nodded, unsure of what to say and afraid of saying the wrong thing. "Historians will write about Manberg. Future students will study Manberg. No one will know my country. L'manberg will be forgotten."

"Is that what you want?" I mused. "To be remembered?

Wilbur met my gaze and looked lost. "I want to go home."

I held his gaze like it was a fragile thing, like it could shatter. "Where is home?"

He looked away again, like he always did. "I don't know," he admitted in a hushed whisper, like it was a crime.