Chapter Text
By the time Tommy was freshly sixteen, he knew he had less than a year to live. It shouldn’t have come as a shock; he’d begun running on borrowed time when he survived a car crash his parents hadn’t been lucky enough to. Though when he pictured dying young, he always imagined it would be due to a freak accident like final destination, or something similar.
He’d survived a lot, arguably too much; terrible foster families, homelessness, and probably the worst, that time he got salmonella from cookie dough. But when he thought his time on earth had been running out, he didn’t think it would be so, well, literal.
But here he was, snatched lightyears away from earth, ripped from the stupid crumpled metal of his space vessel, and taken hostage by aliens he didn’t even know existed.
It was bullshit.
He wanted to be glad he had survived a wormhole jump that was supposed to be impossible. But he’d ended up trading his death for something far worse; aliens. Whoever started the alien abduction cliche should get their ass kicked, because the real thing was nothing like the cliche.
He hadn’t been dissected or beamed up, there were no stolen cows to make friends with, and he hadn’t returned to earth with vague memories no one would believe in; no, it was far worse.
He was in a cell, or maybe a better term for it was a cage. Smooth metal colder than he’d ever felt, it had the occasional micro seam where it was welded together. It all felt surreal at first, for a while he thought it might even be the afterlife, maybe even some form of purgatory, but he couldn’t explain the vague memories of being pulled from his ship. Whatever had put him here in the room, with nothing but an odd looking faucet and a separate waste facility, didn’t want to show itself right away.
His afterlife theory fell away shortly when he realized he still had body functions. His shock slowly died off and his mind began to regain clarity over time. Slowly the situation was beginning to feel real, his abduction memories becoming more believable. He worried about what would happen, what could be done to him. Dissection would be bad and all, but he was coming to realize his fear of it wasn’t anything compared to solitary confinement.
He couldn’t tell time, maybe it was a couple hours, maybe a day, perhaps a couple, but he became restless. He’d started to bang on the walls, clawing at the metal seams, and paced in circles until he dropped from exhaustion. Screamed and screamed until his throat was raw and bloody. And nothing. No one came.
The only thing that ever moved in the cell, other than him, was the edible bar that dropped from a slot in the walls. He hadn’t seen his captors since they’d grabbed him, and it didn’t take him long to figure out why that was.
The first time he’d truly gotten to see one of the aliens that kidnapped him, the only one who dared to show itself, he had screamed so loud the thing had immediately shut the screen they were viewing each other through.
He’d only gotten a glance, but it was enough to form an unnerving picture. It had bright green skin, black beady eyes far too low on what he assumed was its face, and the most peculiar slit of a mouth he’d ever seen. He’d dubbed the creature ‘Green Bitch’.
By the time he’d seen it again, he’d managed to make a small dent in the metal wall with the weird food bars they kept giving him. Tommy fondly thought it was like a granola bar sent from hell; it was stale and tasted metallic like blood. But hunger seemed to make everything worse, so he ate them. He found the bar was hard as a rock, but if he used his molars and an unusual amount of force, he could eventually break it down.
After a while though, it got easier, a lot easier. He was sure his jaw was far stronger than it had ever been, it stopped aching as much from the effort he exerted at least.
The food bar was shit as sustenance, but it was the perfect tool.
He’d been chipping away at his first dent, slamming the bar into it until it disintegrated in his hands and all that was left was his knuckles ramming into the metal for hours. At least the pain was a welcomed feeling compared to the nothingness that had become of his life.
It was quiet, so awfully quiet in the room that sometimes he screamed just to fill the silence; to cover the voices and noises he started hearing whispering in his ears. But nothing could be mistaken for the woosh of the panel behind him evaporating and revealing the alien staring back.
This time Tommy’s anger about being in captivity overpowered his fear. So when the panel opened, he wasted no time slamming into the thin but strong transparent material that kept him from freedom. The alien flinched away as Tommy hit the pane, it didn’t even crack from the hit. Before Tommy could attempt a second time, Green had pressed six fingers to it, and it had shut, replaced again by dull grey.
That day Tommy had lost his voice screaming for the green fucker, and his throat hadn’t felt quite the same since.
He quickly figured out that he scared the shit out of the alien; as well as every single one that had peered at him since. If he even made a move towards the viewing screen, despite the fact that it seemed he couldn’t break it (not for lack of trying), they flinched back and shut it.
In one of his darkest moments he entertained the silly thought that the aliens might be nice and this was all a silly misunderstanding. Sure they did lock him up, but it’d been only a month, or maybe more, and Tommy’s hope had yet to fully die. He was lonely, scared, and fed up with the whole situation.
They fed him at least, peered at him from the panel often enough now that he just stared back instead of trying to break it. So, he had begun to imagine soon they would change their minds and let him out.
But then one day they came in.
He’d barely a moment to feel fear rush into him, The panel that kept him locked here was also the only thing protecting him from them. He had but a second to get used to the proximity, before they rushed him and tased him until he was too dazed to move from the ground.
Green had held him down with its disgusting sandpaper hands, far from anything human, as they took a fucking bone sample.
Without anesthesia, go figure.
So yeah, they weren’t nice, this wasn’t a misunderstanding. They didn’t have him kept here for anything good.
They’d locked him in a cage like a feral animal, and honestly good on them. Because the second Tommy realized these aliens were his enemy, he had his heart set on escaping by any means necessary.
The next time they came in, they’d shot him with some spiraled dart. He figured it was supposed to be their version of a tranq so he dropped and pretended to go down.
The stupid motherfuckers couldn’t even get the tranquilizer right. He only felt himself tire a fraction from whatever was in the dart. So this time he was ready for the touch of sandpaper against his skin and the wheezing noise of the alien’s speech.
That day, the green bitch’s stupid six-fingered hand turned into a hand with just five fingers.
He’d gotten it off of him at least, he just had to ignore the still moving finger hanging from his mouth. A painfully loud tea kettle scream bounced off the walls as he made a dash to the door. He’d gotten about half way there before the burning of the thing’s blood registered and he faltered in his steps.
Because of course, the bright fucking green alien was poisonous.
The best way he could describe it was like being pepper sprayed with the strongest shit money could buy. He choked, feeling like he couldn't breathe. Snot, tears, and retching set in almost immediately, and his throat constricted.
Of course, one of the other aliens, the one that looked kind of like a mushroom, tased him and while Tommy was down, the orange one dragged Green out of the cage. It was hours of hell before the pain lessened, but not by much, and by then they were back in his room, long tasers in hand to stun him.
He’d thought he was at the lowest low in his life, but he was wrong. The high-tech muzzle fitted to his face? That was his new fucking low.
It opened only during his eating time and otherwise stayed on his face at all times, no matter how hard he clawed at it or smashed it into the wall. He could only make his face bleed so much in an attempt to take it off before he gave up.
That was right about the moment he stopped perceiving time. Reality slipped between his fingers like the blood on his knuckles. He could vaguely remember watching a documentary about solitary confinement and how it made people crazy, and honestly, that documentary had been right. Because sure enough, he felt like he lost his mind.
The language that the aliens spoke to each other with as they messed around with him was starting to grow familiar, certain words and phrases sticking in his head. So, he knew that when he started hearing voices randomly in the quiet, they weren’t the aliens.
It was around the same time Tommy realized he might fully lose his shit, that he also realized they didn’t just have him here for experimenting and taking painful samples. No, they wanted to use him as some kind of weapon; a beast they could force to do their bidding. He’d never felt as dehumanised as when they tried to use negative reinforcement- tasing- to teach him basic commands like he was a fucking dog.
Well, maybe dehumanizing wasn’t the right word. Because as much as they came in to try and teach him basic one-word commands- which he figured roughly translated to things like- ‘stay-stop’ ‘bite-hurt-maim’ ‘yes-good-nice’ ‘no-bad-incorrect’- they were deathly afraid of him. The muzzle never came off, and they never got close to him unless it was absolutely necessary. He figured it was because he was a different species; a human, and humans apparently were treated like beasts. So in their minds, they must’ve been treating him as he should be.
It wasn’t hard to figure out they thought he was less intelligent than they were, and also that he was some wild beast that could and would unpredictably maim anything.
His conclusion was further solidified by the fact that they’d threaten other cuffed alien’s just by dragging them in front of his screen, and acting like they were going to open it. He didn’t think he was ugly enough to warrant the intense screaming and clawing any alien made to get away from him. It was almost surreal that just the sight of him beaten down in his cage was enough for other beings to cower away in fear.
He soon learned why they felt the need to teach him the command ‘bite-hurt-maim’. One day they threw a kicking- screeching- eight-foot tall alien in his cage with that one command.
He wasn’t an animal, he wasn’t going to follow their commands (unless they brought out the tasers again). But the other alien had decided that its best bet was to kill or be killed.
Still, he tried his best.
But he could only have his head smashed into the floor one too many times by a four-armed purple-looking person, before he was going into fight or flight and clawing and screeching right back. He hadn’t meant to kill them, he just wanted their hands off his throat. He wanted to back up into his designated sleep corner, and stay away. But apparently, he underestimated his strength. Because one second he was finally fighting back, flipping the other alien over, and the next their eight-eyed head squished like a grape under his fist, yellow brain or whatever organ it was, splattered all over the floor.
He’d cried so hard he threw up, and then proceeded to fully let go of any grip on reality he had left. He’d just killed a person- a fully intelligent being with a life of its own- just like the monster they thought he was.
The worst though- The worst was when they came to clean up his cage. An approving kettle-like chirp came from the green bitch as it observed the scene and threw Tommy an extra ration and-
A blanket.
He realized for the briefest moment that he actually felt good about following the command and killing the alien. That maybe if he killed more they would be nice to him, they’d reward him, that he’d be good for them-
He tried to strangle himself with said blanket, sick with himself.
It didn’t work.
So he wrapped himself up in it for what seemed like days, rations piling up untouched in the other corner as he tried to make his mind take him anywhere but there.
And that brought him to his current state of being, allowing time and reality to slip as he dissociated. He made more useless dents in the walls and spoke to himself about plans to escape, and whatever other shit he could think of. His captors still threatened other aliens using him, and he didn’t like to think about times they’d let ones lose in the room with him. Not that he could remember it anyway.
He’d gotten better at resisting the tall tasing sticks to chase his captors out. Once he’d even managed to grab one of them, ripping it from the fiery orange alien who ran about a million degrees too hot, and tasing it repeatedly until Mushroom came and knocked him the hell out.
At least he wasn’t the only one collecting scars. Fire’s glowing orange skin had a huge dull patch where Tommy had tased it in the same place about twenty times, Green bitch’s left hand was still missing a finger, and Mushroom had a scarred bite mark on his arm.
He was getting closer and closer to slipping through the panel door and beating the fuckers. He didn’t know where he would go from there, but maybe if he killed them and crashed the ship his hell would end.
He planned to use his stashed, new tool to beat the shit out of whoever came through the door next. He’d made a dense, heavy fucking ball, out of dried chewed up ration bars that he’d slapped together. Even though he began to lose parts of his days he’d done his best to categorize what weaknesses of theirs he could catch. Orange was allergic to water, and Mushroom was just far weaker than Tommy in general -but the bitch could really aim for weak spots- Most of his scars were from Mushroom hitting the exact same fucking place with a taser until flesh melted away.
As for Green, well, Green didn’t seem to have a lot of weaknesses.
Tommy could take that risk though, he was ready. He had a weapon, a hell of a lot of pent-up anger, and he was going to take them down this time.
And that was where he was at now, hiding his makeshift weapon under his crinkly blanket; muttering math equations to himself like that would somehow keep his brain sharp. The more he talked to himself, the less he heard the voices, so he stuck to filling the silence himself.
His neck practically cracked as he turned to the woosh of the door, nostrils flared and eyes wide as he assessed who he was about to beat into the ground. His plans quickly crashed and burned. Falling apart harder than his ship had done in the wormhole.
There was an unfamiliar alien squirming in Green Bitch’s grip.
It wasn’t unusual for Green to dangle someone in front of Tommy, saying things that sounded threatening and pushing them towards the screen until they responded with whatever he was looking for. But what was unusual was that Green Bitch hadn’t bothered with any show and tell. It opened the full panel and stepped right in;
Tommy’s heart sunk.
It didn't matter how long he’d spent here, how much he’d suffered, how much humanity he felt like he’d lost, he still had some sense of the kid lost in space. The little wheezing breaths, the shaking warbling trill released from the new alien’s hunched form, it was enough for bile to rise in his throat.
“No,” He said quietly, angrily. He backed up, away from the two of them until he was pressed to the wall. “You Green fuck, you stupid piece of shit, if you think I’m going to kill-”
He froze when the swirling blue pools of color in the new Alien’s eyes met his. The alien went quiet all at once, trills completely gone as it seemed to take in Tommy’s hunched form. Then like a live wire, it was thrashing, louder than before as it attempted to pull its wrists from Green Bitch’s grasp, probably planning to bolt through the door.
Tommy didn’t like how this alien spoke, how it’s warbling and calls and the fluttering from it’s throat sounded drenched in more emotion than Tommy had heard from anyone since he’d been on earth.
It- No, he sounded human.
Green seemed far too pleased about the situation, its bone-chilling wheezing sound rising from its chest as it dangled the alien like a piece of meat. Tommy didn’t have to quite grasp whatever species-wide language they were using, because the sounds of begging- of pleading- was universal.
Tommy could tell Green was sick and twisted with amusement. The image so familiar it had flashes of yellow blood flickering in his mind, flesh and guts giving under his hand. He could feel himself shaking, wanting to join in with the begging of the alien.
God please, please don’t make him kill someone else, please, please, don’t let him hurt someone. Not again. Never again.
But he didn’t want to show weakness, he refused to.
Instead of cowering he bared his teeth, glaring at the lanky green fuck that had dragged him further than the seven circles of hell. He knew it would get the message across. It wasn’t anger, it wasn’t a threat, it was a promise. He swore to any god out there, to every deity that could possibly exist, that if this motherfucker dropped another alien in the room with him, he’d make Green bleed. Tear it limb from limb, until the fuckers regretted ever pulling him from the busted ship.
He’d make it pay. He’d paint these grey walls green, douse the universe in his rage, and lose himself in the heat of wrath.
He swore it if it was the last thing he’d ever do.
The universe seemed to take his oath as a challenge, because Green pulled the squirrelly alien forward; the one that was all big blue swirling eyes, smooth light blue skin and delicately pointed ears, webbed hands, and god- dark blue lips that actually looked human.
And it dropped him, letting him slam into the cold metal ground that had only ever known Tommy’s worried pacing, restrained struggles and fights. He didn’t move as he watched him collapse in a heap, dark blue liquid he hadn’t even seen spilling from his eyes and staining the floor.
Warbles he’d call him, because that’s what it did. The alien pressed himself as flat to the ground as he could, peering at Tommy with bleeding blue eyes that were potent with nauseating terror, and warbled.
As he stared with increasing dread at this alien, praying that it wouldn’t be like the last,
Green used a command Tommy had yet to hear seriously. One that had to be taught through pain and blood shed, one that’s translation was unmistakable,
‘Kill’
__
“Kill,” Dream had commanded the human, and Wilbur couldn’t help but cry out at that.
They hadn’t known Dream had a human. The United Galactic having something like that in their mists was unheard of.
Wilbur had only seen the creature in his nightmares, in diagrams, or in crude drawings shared from around the galaxy with whispered warnings. But here he was, facing a creature no one had ever encountered and lived to tell the tale of.
He was in a cage with the most ferocious being in the universe, one in possession of an enemy that wanted him dead, and this was how he was going to die. Techno and Phil would follow the tracker tucked in the pocket of Wilbur’s cheek, but they’d find his mauled corpse, maybe even ending up just like him.
When he’d planned a capture to finally locate Dream, this had not been what he had expected. He knew in hindsight it was stupid to go behind the backs of his family, of the resistance, but he wanted to help them, to finally end the plight that came in the form of Dream. He knew his family would never agree to the plan despite how much it could aid the resistance, so as one of the top strategists, he took the liberty of doing it on his own.
Torture, severe injury, possible deep psychological scars. They were all things he had prepared for, but none of it compared to figuring out Dream had a human in his clutches. A feral Galash to terrorize people? Sure, but a fucking human??
How had they even caught one? Wilbur was sure there was no one else other than Dream in the galaxy who could survive capturing a human.
And now a human was going to kill him.
His hearts couldn’t handle this, but his death sentence had been set the second the blue eyes of the human met his.
He hated how peculiar they were, eyes surrounded by white and red. Hated how easily he could see its pupils dilate when it was looking at him. No one had said humans could have golden hair, such an alluring and happy color that reminded him of the light of stars. It was sick that a beast so dangerous would have such splendid color. It was a trick they probably evolved to allure creatures with a false sense of security and warmth.
Wilbur loved the color yellow, he loved the light and warmth of it, and now he was going to die with it being the last thing he ever saw.
__
He hadn’t moved, not even an inch since Warbles had been dropped unceremoniously to the ground, not since Green left the room; he remained frozen.
His head was a loop of pleading, and it was only reflected through the soft cries of Warbles. For the most part, he seemed to be playing dead, laying on his stomach and peering at Tommy through eyes nearly completely covered by a mop of curly blue hair. He was unnervingly still, stiller then a human could be. It was probably a skill of his species.
Tommy just prayed he wouldn’t attack him, that he wouldn’t be forced to fight again.
He didn’t like the color purple, he’d hated it ever since he killed that purple alien. The idea of having to watch as his red blood and the alien’s blue blood mixed, twisted his stomach. He’d have to watch another mess of purple being cleaned from the floor as Green looked on with approval.
“Please don’t jump me,” He pleaded aloud, watching the blue ears that had been pressed back against Warbles' head twitch forward briefly at the noise.
Then Warbles was trilling again, perhaps unable to contain his fear.
He didn’t have to open his mouth to make it, almost like it was coming from his soul. It wasn’t a human sound, too far from anything Tommy had heard. It was more ethereal in nature, but the emotion in it, the fear felt so human it burned.
“I’m not going to hurt you. I won’t.” Tommy said, voice shaking with uncertainty. “It’s going to be okay,” He tried to soothe, hands reaching up in a placating manner, which seemed to be the wrong move.
Warbles screeched, snapping into motion and attempting to scramble backward. But he couldn’t with his wrists bound behind him and his bound feet. He was stuck, and Tommy could pinpoint the exact moment he seemed to notice this, because more blue liquid was falling from his eyes.
It was similar enough to crying that it had Tommy panicking. If this alien freaked out and attacked him, he’d be screwed.
“It’s okay, it’s okay- I’m sorry, just moving,” Tommy tried to soothe, voice as low and soft as his throat would allow. His own voice was shaking, eyes stinging as he tried to figure out what to do.
Warbles didn’t understand him, Warbles definitely thought Tommy was going to kill him, and that wasn't lucrative to Tommy’s rapidly dwindling mental stability.
How could he convince Warbles he wasn’t going to hurt him if the few words he knew of Alien tongue were unhelpful-
And then he got it.
Tommy shuffled closer, eyes fixing on the cuffs on Warbles. He’d just take them off- Which the harder he thought about it, could be a terrible idea. Warbles could definitely strangle him if he wanted, which would suck big time and ruin everything. But, if he got Warbles to chill out and trust him, maybe they could tag team their captors and Tommy could be free.
It was far fetched, but the best idea he had. Worst case scenario Warbles killed him, and he just didn’t have to deal with being trapped anymore.
Tommy decided to trust his gut for once.
He crept closer, ignoring how Warbles calls got higher and higher. “It’s okay dude- Chill, I’m just going to help you,” If he could see panic, then Warbles would be radiating it. “I can just take off the cuffs, we’ll be best buds, and we can get over this whole human prejudice thing. Which by the way, is very uncool of you aliens.” He blabbed, more so soothing himself as he slowly crept up on Warbles. “Don’t bite me, don’t bite me,” He muttered, reaching his hands forward.
Warbles started thrashing, knocking his own chin into the hard ground and wiggling to try and get away.
“Dude stop!” Tommy shouted, cursing because obviously, the fucker was going to hurt himself. Warbles didn’t seem to care though, deciding Tommy’s gentle movements were in fact the movements of a cold-blooded killer.
“Okay, okay, fine!” Tommy hissed, and Warbles froze at the sound.
They both stared at each other, Tommy blinking in shock, and Warbles looking like a deer in headlights.
“Did you not like the hissing?” Tommy asked curiously like he’d get a response.
The only response he got was a panicked trill.
“Stop that,” He scolded lightly, hands reaching out more gently this time. “I’m literally trying to help, you bitch,”
He really, really didn’t want to touch this alien as much as Warbles didn’t want to be touched, but he had to be a big man and help both of them. Because apparently, Tommy was in a universe filled with stupid motherfuckers, and he was the only one who could think straight.
Whatever hissing noise he made must have triggered the fight-flight-freeze mechanism Warbles had, because he was still once again, and Tommy noticed even the rising and the falling of his chest stopped.
“Wait, are you even breathing?!” He asked, a bit of panic laced through his tone as he focused harder on the torso of Warbles.
It had been moving before like he had lungs somewhere in there, but now it wasn’t.
He placed both his hands on the ground in front of Warbles, kicking his legs out from his crouch so he could lay on his stomach directly in front of the alien. He was an exact mirror of him, their faces mere inches apart as Tommy stared.
He didn’t care if he was freaking Warbles out, he needed to make sure he hadn’t just accidentally killed another person.
Warbles didn’t move, and it was then Tommy released he didn’t exactly have eyelids. There were what looked like black markings just under his eyes, but he wasn’t sure if it was just a tattoo. Nothing was moving, there was no expression on Warbles face. His heart sunk, the swirling and glittering blues in Warbles eyes didn’t look dull, but he truly wasn’t breathing or moving anymore, not even an inch.
“No, no, no, please don’t be dead,” Tommy begged, unable to stop his voice from breaking on the sentence. He couldn’t be alone again.
Surely he’d move if he was still alive,
Hesitantly he reached out, shaking finger pushing past the blue curls which felt far softer than human hair, and touched Warbles' forehead.
Warbles wasn’t even warbling anymore, and he’d been making sound since he’d come in here. Tommy’s heart sank when he felt the cool but soft feeling of skin under his own and Warbles didn’t move an inch.
He couldn’t stop the stinging in his eyes, and he felt his vision begin to blur.
And then, a clear film from the corner of Warbles eyes, an inner eyelid, swiped across them and cleared some of the dark blue liquid in the most horrifying yet comforting blink Tommy had ever seen in his life.
He exhaled in relief, and there was a weak trill from Warbles as the hot air hit him,
Great, so he was still scared shitless, but at least the fucker was alive.
“I hate you so much right now,” Tommy said, lacking heat.
Then he was heaving himself onto his hands and back onto his knees. When Warbles protested again, shifting and seeming to come back online, Tommy tried to mimic the hiss of displeasure he’d made earlier. This time he pushed a hand as gently as he could on Warbles back.
“Don’t move,” He said.
Warbles didn’t move.
Tommy finally got his hands on the cuffs, they were smooth but he’d seen them used on aliens plenty of times. They didn’t need a key, the middle of them was a metal rod. Something that looked like an electric rope made the loops for wrists. He knew they turned on and off though, and he also knew the bright purple glow of them looked an awful lot like the tasers. So he didn’t touch that part.
It wasn’t hard to find the barely there carving of a button on the metal bar, and with a steady breath, he was clicking it, watching as the purple flickered out and released Warbles' hands.
Then he was darting back to the corner of the room, heart in his throat as he tried to create as much distance between them as possible.
Either this was going to work, or he was going to be forced to fight again.
__
Wilbur was pretty sure he’d died when the human decided to have a staredown with him. Everything about the creature was warm, its presence burning, the bright yellow of its hair, the warm breath fanning across his face. It was surreal, his face being inches away from something he was sure he’d never see in his life.
What had The United Galactic been thinking?
He wasn’t sure what the human was doing, mouth opening and closing in sounds and cadence he couldn’t decipher. It sounded creepily similar to a language, not just noises of a creature, but words and structure. He didn’t have much energy to think about that though, not when he was focusing on slowing his hearts.
His blood had gone cold in reaction to the predator, all energy leaking from him and his joints stiffening. He could feel it, both his hearts crawling as close to a stop as they could, and his metabolism halting. The shift was soothing in a way, his lungs pausing and all his body shutting down. The last time he’d experienced freeze was in the water on the last planet his family had stopped on, everything slowing so he could conserve oxygen.
This time though, instead of the chill being comforting, it was terrifying. If he wasn’t careful, he might fully slip into comatose, though at least then his death would be peaceful. As peaceful as being mauled by a human could be.
But then the human reached out, gentler than he’d ever thought the creature capable and its skin was lighting up his nerves.
It was warm, so, so, warm.
Everything Wilbur thought a human was not.
He could feel his hearts increase in speed, his cold blood spurring awake at the temperature change. The warmth reminded him of his brother Techno, the piglin was always radiating heat, hot-blooded, unlike Wil.
He couldn’t help but blink at the human, taking in this new information.
The human exhaled warmth, making a few more noises at him that Wilbur didn’t even bother to try and understand. This was certainly a long drawn-out way for the human to eat him, but they’d always said humans were unpredictable. That’s what made them so dangerous.
And then all at once, the human was perching up, and Wilbur knew he was done for.
Damn Dream for being a psycho. Of course he’d try and contain a living human to use for his own gain. He’d gotten crazier and more frantic the longer the war went on, his cold warfare had turned into something monstrous. Wilbur should’ve expected something like this, how had he ever thought this would be a good idea. He never should’ve thought let himself be captured by the galaxy's biggest psycho.
His self destructive thoughts were interrupted by the human making that noise again. A perfect imitation of a wefi, low, dangerous, and warning. A blazing hand pressed into Wilbur's back.
He tried to stop connecting the warmth of the human with the warmth of his brother. He wished Techno would crash into the ship and save him already. Not that he wanted his brother to experience an encounter with a human, such a thing would seal both of their fates.
This was it, his organs were going to be ripped from him. The human still had a muzzle on, but Wilbur knew that it could probably crush bones with ease. It would probably come up with some sick way to kill him.
So when he felt gentle star-like warmth tickling his wrists, he didn’t understand. His vitals organs were not in his wrists, were they for humans? That would be terrible design-
There was a soft woosh, and Wil’s ears flickered back to focus on the sound. He felt the tension and burning of the cuffs release, realization dawned on him. But before he could think too hard about it or spur into action, the human was jerking away.
His hearts thudded, rapidly picking up pace as he looked at the very, very dangerous human, crouching in the corner and decidedly not killing him. But worse, as Wil stared at the human, it shrank, making itself as small as possible.
It looked scared.
Like Wilbur was the galaxy wide feared creature.
There was no way.
He sat up slowly, watching as the human seemed to flinch at his movement, now gone silent. There was no mistaking the body language, Wilbur knew a scared creature when he saw one. The cuffs clanked onto the ground as he fully sat up. He brought his hands forward, rubbing his wrists in shock.
What the fuck?
He looked back at the human that had made no move to approach him at all. It was allowing him to sit up in its territory, smart enough to remove his cuffs. Was it a mistake perhaps? No, not with the way it had seeked out his wrists specifically. The gentle touch it had used, the precision at using the unlatching mechanism.
He couldn’t help the curious trill escaping his throat, head tilting as he focused on the cowering human.
There was no way right?
__
It was like Warbles and him were playing a game. Everytime one of them would move, the other would freak out. In another situation it would've been funny, but instead it was a bit infuriating. He couldn’t communicate his intentions, and clearly Warbles was still weary with him. But at the very least, it looked like he realized he wasn’t in immediate danger.
This little game kept on for a few more hours, at least until Tommy was beginning to drift off. There were no tells of a night or day cycle here, the lights always stayed on. So he slept sporadically, and at least now he knew it must’ve been a while since he last slept. Because his eyelids were drooping, and eventually he couldn’t keep it up anymore.
He huffed, flopping over on his side, still facing Warbles who was now in the opposite corner of the room. Fucker looked all stupid, with his big eyes and tilting head as he watched Tommy settle in his crinkly blanket wrapping himself in it.
Warbles made a noise, paired with the tilt of his head, a flick of his ears. He was starting to associate it with something like curiosity. He would do the pair after Tommy did anything particularly scandalous. Which was a lot, since apparently his existence itself was scandalous enough for aliens. At least Warbles ears were no longer pinned back like they had been when he’d first been left in here, it was probably something he did when he was scared.
Tommy was sure he was becoming a Warbles expert.
“I’m going to bed,” He explained flatly, Warbles still giving him that stupid look.
He tried to give a small smile of reassurance which seem to backfired spectacularly, because Warbles looked like he was about to shit bricks. His ears were pinned all the way back, worried warbles erupting from his throat as he stared at Tommy like he’d grown a second head.
Oh yeah, Tommy thought. Aliens didn’t seem to like it when he showed his teeth. Of course the wires of the muzzle helped keep him from biting anyone, but it’s not like they stopped him from baring said teeth.
His smile fell quickly. “Sorry man, just a habit.” But Warbles of course didn’t understand this.
Tommy frowned, tired brain trying to think of a way to possibly get through to Warbles. But he couldn’t think of anything before he was out like a light.
__
The human.
Wasn’t so bad.
Wilbur knew just thinking something like that would have any good galactic citizen concerned, but he wasn’t crazy! It was… Not as feral as he thought. He’d been expecting some beast, but instead the human was pretty, well, calm.
Fine, maybe he was losing it a bit. He had been stuck in this room with the human for what appeared to be a couple days. At first he was certain the human was just saving him to kill later, but later never came. Instead he watched in absolute awe as it slept, being its most vulnerable right in front of him.
Things only got wilder from there.
Wilbur had watched as the human barked its’ sounds at him after waking up, pointing at the faucet and demonstrating very clearly how to turn it on and taking exaggerated sips. It took a second for Wil to understand what it wanted when it began to creep to the side of him, but then it clicked. They shifted places in the room, walking at the same time so they wouldn’t get close to each other.
Wilbur now had access to the water, and the human watched insistently until Wilbur took a drink.
The water was cool and refreshing in his throat, and as he looked back at the human he was surprised to hear it hum.
He couldn’t stop his ears from perking up as he honed in on the human. Humans could hum? Had he heard wrong?
“Yew llahk thaut nooeesee?”
The end of the human’s string of noises ended in an uptick of pitch, and it was curious to Wil. He was almost certain they were words now. He had no clue what the hell they would mean though.
The human hummed again and it snapped Wil from his thoughts.
It was a nice sound, a gorgeous sound. How did a human of all things make such a noise? It reminded him of Techno’s soothing rumbling, or maybe Phil’s low quiet chirps. It was nice on his ears. He was very sensitive to noise, his species tended to have far more advanced hearing then most. He either hated sounds, or he loved them.
He couldn’t help but hum back, throat shifting to do his best to mimic the noise the human made.
A new much more interesting noise bubbled from the human’s mouth. It was water roaring over stones, loud and light. He startled at the noise, and even the human seemed shocked it was making it, slapping a hand over its mouth to stop it. Wilbur’s ears twitched in disappointment, he tried to replay the sound in his head,
It hadn’t been aggressive…
There were no other signs showing it was a negative sound.
So, positive.
Perhaps it was amusement?
Yes, it sounded like amusement.
Was that how it laughed?
Were humans intelligent enough to laugh? To express and experience amusement?
Wil tilted his head at the human, unable to stop his curiosity.
“Wuhhhut aurh yew loohkihn ut?”
Again with the high pitch at the end of a sentence, it had to mean something. The cadence was specific, and the human only used it sometimes. So what did it mean?
He studied the human closer, trilling softly in curiosity.
“Yew souwnhd stooopud,” The human moved its arms, looping one in front of another in a curious stance, effectively crossing them in front of its chest.
Was it protecting its organs? Was it worried Wilbur was going to attack it?
He opened his second set of eyes just hoping to focus better on the microexpressions, getting far better clarity as the the second set-
The human screeched- no screamed.
__
So the weird markings under Warbles eyes were slits that held another pair of smaller eyes. It was simultaneously super cool, and the most terrifying thing Tommy had ever seen. It’d been the last thing he’d been expecting, and they’d opened so suddenly it startled him.
Sure, Warbles wasn’t human, far from it, but there were definitely similarities there. There were no weird joints that he’d seen yet, a few peculiar things here and there, but Tommy thought he’d adjusted quite well to the new alien species. At least until he kept learning new things, like the- the eyes.
Oh, and the fact that Warbles was sensitive to loud noises, because he’d immediately covered his ears when Tommy had screamed.
Tommy felt kind of bad, but it seemed like Warbles did as well, because there was a soft almost gentle warbling he was directing at Tommy. Maybe it was an apology, or something like the gentle shushing from a mother. Either way, he did it for a while until he deemed Tommy had calmed down enough.
Suffice to say, there was a lot to learn about Warbles, especially since they were about to be best bu- escape partners, just escape partners.
Fuck aliens, all Tommy’s homies hated aliens.
Anyway, learn he did.
Days seem to pass with no sign of the other aliens, and it gave Tommy a lot of time to observe.
Warbles liked when he hummed low, it seemed to be associated positively. Any kind of hissing was the opposite, Warbles hated that and Tommy did his best to not make the noise. It had scared him stiff, and it kind of made Tommy sad to think about. Not that he’d gone soft or anything.
Warbles also did not have human teeth, shocker.
When Tommy had first handed him part of his food bar, Warbles had looked at it curiously. He was almost sure he didn’t know it was food until Warbles held it up to his mouth. He was careful, teeth hidden behind his lips as he tried to take a bite of it. Tommy thought that was weird, it didn’t look like Warbles naturally ate that way-
And then he was staring at the two sets of razor sharp teeth, and it made sense why he was kind enough to try not to show Tommy that.
Great, he was stuck with some kind of weird merman shark puppy thing. Warbles was blue and smooth like an aquatic creature with lines that looked like gills on his throat, but otherwise humanoid. He had human facial features -mostly- so kind of a merman? But he had a wicked set of teeth like a shark. And big blue eyes that kind of reminded Tommy of puppy dog eyes. He was sure it was an illusion caused by the lack of pupil or eye whites.
Also as sharp as Warbles teeth were, he seemed to struggle with biting into the bar. Like, he quite literally couldn’t break it with his teeth. Eventually his razor teeth broke it down enough to eat, but Tommy was pretty sure he watched Warbles nibble on it for hours. He didn’t blame him though, it was hard to chew.
When his food had finally dropped from the slit in the wall, and Tommy’s muzzle adjusted to allow him to fit the bar in -of course never coming off his face, because Green was a bitch- Warbles watched, in what Tommy could now recognize as the trademarked Warbles look of horror, as Tommy took a bite out of it and ate it no problem.
Another thing Warbles didn’t like apparently, the sight of Tommy’s molars. Which Tommy thought was ironic. But then again they were the same ones that had bitten through Green’s fingers like butter, and caused the whole muzzle thing in the first place.
Whatever.
For a few blissful days- or maybe it was weeks- things went well. Warbles seemed to relax a lot, and they fell into a kind of routine. Tommy would split his food bar with the other, using his knee to snap the bar in half which had freaked the fuck out of Warbles the first time. And Warbles looked less and less fearful when the metal bars of Tommy’s muzzle detached and retreated into the frame for him to eat.
Having Warbles soothed a lot of the stress of being alone. He had someone to base time off of, someone to make sound that warded off the auditory hallucinations. Warbles was perfect for it, because he always made noise. They seemed to come to some sort of homeostasis.
Tommy didn’t scream the rare few times Warbles would open his second pair of eyes. He seemed to do it only when he was really focusing, and admittedly it looked pretty metal. They’d gone from being respectfully across the room from each other, to being just a foot away. One time when he was handing Warbles his half of the ration, their fingers brushed and Tommy couldn’t help but flinch back.
Warbles was cold, and it clicked in his head that Warbles was indeed cold blooded. Which was actually kind of worrying the more that he thought about it. He knew the room was aired out to hell and back, because he got cold most of the time. He’d never noticed Warbles shivering though.
Warbles was trilling soothingly at him, pulling back a comfortable amount of space and looking somewhat worried and apologetic at Tommy’s reaction.
“You’re cold blooded,” He told Warbles, brows furrowed in confusion.
Warbles tilted his head, but the soothing trills didn’t stop.
“Oh my god, I’m so stupid,” Tommy pulled at his hair in frustration, ignoring Warbles worried calls.
Cold blooded animals didn’t shiver did they? He didn’t know much about reptiles, he’d never needed to. But he knew they relied on their environment to change their temperature. That’s why in order to warm up a lot of cold blooded animals needed a basking spot of some kind.
Oh god, and now that he thought about it, Warbles was rather tired looking. He’d been a lot more energetic when he’d first come in, and it hadn’t just been the panic. Was he freezing?? Was he cold??
Tommy couldn’t stop the panic from leaping at him, and his eyes shot around before landing on his blanket. “You’re cold, you could use the blanket,” He curled in on himself a little more, tugging further on his head as he thought about it. “No, no, you don’t produce heat, you can’t produce warmth under the blanket to keep it warm- wait how the fuck do blankets work?! Do you have to produce heat?” He worried his lip, gears in his head turning harder than they had in a long while. “Oh my god, I’m going to kill you, have I been slowly killing you with my own stupidity?”
The idea of him being alone again was too much.
He froze at the feeling of a cold hand on his wrist. His heart was hammering in his ears at the unfamiliar feeling, but he didn’t pull away. He looked at Warbles with wide eyes, who had somehow gotten closer without him noticing. Gently, Warbles closed his hand around Tommy’s wrist, and his other hand was prying Tommy’s fingers from his hair. It was the most they had ever touched.
Oh.
Tommy released his grip, letting Warbles lead his arm down and into his own lap. Maybe Warbles had been worried he was hurting himself.
“I’m okay,” He said, doing his best to hum in hopes Warbles would stop looking so worried.
Warbles hummed back, seemingly pleased before he was letting go of Tommy’s wrist. The touch was gone just as quick as it was there. It felt nothing like the other Alien’s touch, Green’s sick sandpaper textured skin, Fire’s blazing skin, and Mushroom’s weirdly textured hands.
Warbles was soft, and it wasn’t just because of his smooth skin, but rather the gentle way he approached Tommy. At first it seemed to be from fear, but now it was respect. Tommy couldn’t remember the last time he’d been touched with something other than harm in mind. It was uncomfortable in the way that it was unfamiliar, but he found he almost wished for the sensation to return.
“Warbles, I need you to not die,” He said seriously, abruptly. “I don’t know when they’re coming back, but I don’t think Green is going to be happy you’re still here. We have to take them out,”
He nodded to himself, smiling at Warbles, but this time without teeth.
__
Fuck Wilbur sideways, he was actually starting to think that the entire universe had been wrong about humans… Or at least this one.
Starlight was nice.
So maybe he gave him a name to call him. Him, not it. He’d had a whole internal conflict with himself about it, convinced he must be losing his mind, but that was before the human fed him. He thought maybe the Human had imprinted on him, but he was starting to think perhaps it was the other way around.
Starlight was warm, very, very warm. But it wasn’t just his temperature, it was his appearance, his personality. His golden hair had grown on Wil far too fast. He was maybe slightly attached. It wasn’t his fault he was like a tiny little star! Not only did starlight match his appearance, but considering how volatile stars could be, it fitted the human. He felt quite clever for the name. And it wasn’t like he was naming Starlight, no, it was more like a nickname. Because he was sure Starlight had a title, a name, he wasn’t some beast or pet that needed to be given one.
The human was intelligent! He swore it.
He responds to him, using hums and trills imitated from Wilbur with intelligence and complexity. Not only that, but he’s a thousand percent sure he has his own language. Wilbur is even sure he knows Galactic!
Okay well not quite, but the second Wil actually opened his mouth to speak, instead of just using his throat to communicate through trills, Starlight had perked right up. He’d focused on Wil’s lips as he spoke in galactic, with an intensity Wil had seldom seen.
And even though he had a heavy accent, Wilbur had heard loud and clear,
“Yes,”
He couldn’t stop the rumbling trills that flooded from him, way too pleased that he’d been right and his companion was in fact sapient.
It was mind blowing, world shattering, and heartbreaking all at once.
Because holy fuck, they’d been wrong about human’s intelligence this whole time. Which meant Dream had locked Starlight in a room and muzzled him like an animal. Even during war, the galaxy could agree on certain rights all sapient species shared. The rebellion did not take kindly to sapient species violations. It had been part of the cause for the galactic war.
Wilbur was infuriated by it, because he couldn’t help but worry about what could’ve happened if he hadn’t been able to figure out Starlight was sapient. He’d thought Starlight was just a beast about to kill him, he was complicit.
He thought about it often, there was far too much time in captivity to not think about everything. The more he got to know Starlight, the more the guilt and anger grew.
He knew the second he and Starlight were broken out by Techno and Phil, his first plan would be to make Dream pay for how he had treated Starlight. As part of the resistance he’d do it for anyone, but it didn’t just feel like duty, it was personal. Starlight was his companion.
For now though, all he could do was wait for them and try and learn more about Starlight. Things had definitely taken a pleasant turn now that he knew he wasn’t about to get mauled. Humans were an interesting species, in fact the majority of the time Starlight was rather docile. Well-
He wasn’t sure docile was quite the right word for him, because Starlight was currently beating the ever loving shit out of one of the nutritional bars. He was smacking it into one of the many dents made in the wall so he could give it to Wil in smaller pieces. He was quick to figure out that Wilbur didn’t exactly share the bone crushing horrifying bite strength that he had.
Wilbur couldn’t help the pleased hums coming from his throat as he watched his surprising ally work. He was very, catering? It was pleasing, he must be a pod species like Wilbur. He seemed to always fuss about making sure Wil was eating enough, or drinking. He had weird quirks in general, maybe it was a human thing, or perhaps just a Starlight thing. Wil also suspected Starlight somehow figured out they did not react the same physiologically to their environment, temperature wise.
He’d taken to climbing under his blanket, glaring up at the ceiling for a couple minutes, before he was aggressively gesturing at Wil to climb under the blanket and take his place. It never failed to make Wil laugh, especially now that he knew what he was doing. The first time he was sure the human had lost his mind.
He appreciated it though, it was fucking cold in the cell. The temperature was clearly curated for a warm blooded species. There was no heater, no spot of warmth Wil could curl up in, no Techno or Phil to leech heat from. He was starting to feel the effects of it, he was slow and lethargic. Starlight had been helping though, he generated an immense amount of heat- just like a little star- and it was perfect for Wil to melt into.
Every time he got under the blanket Starlight prepared, he was wrapped up with it by a spitting and petulant human. This would continue until Starlight was pleased with it, and then he would go off and occupy himself with something else as Wil soaked in the heat. It was surreal.
Like now, when he sat under the still warm blanket, content to let his hearts beat according to the temperature, and watch his companion.
“I think you’ve smacked it around enough,” He said amused, the rumbling of laughter caught in his chest as he watched the utter determination Starlight had in destroying the bar.
They had said humans were fiercely destructive, but this was probably not what they had in mind.
It was quite endearing actually.
“Douhnt pahtronizzze mueh Wahrbules”
They did this a lot now, Wilbur speaking to him in galactic, and Starlight speaking in human. He was sure they were having two very different conversations, but it was nice nonetheless. They couldn’t quite hold conversation through words, but they were starting to form an odd mash of body language and sounds that worked to convey things.
That and Starlight knew very few words in galactic, though he didn’t seem to like speaking them often. Wilbur didn’t blame him. He didn’t know how long he’d been in here, but judging by the sheer amount of dents in the wall, plus some of the depth of them, he had a sinking feeling he’d been imprisoned for far too long. The weariness Starlight carried was similar to someone used to being trapped.
It reminded him of Techno before he’d escaped the pit, treated like a tool of entertainment in disgusting gladiator rings just because he was a piglin.
And that worried him deeply.
No one deserved that.
He would try and learn some human so that they could communicate better. There were a lot of words Starlight used commonly, and Wilbur was starting to pick up on cadence patterns and the odd structure things were said. He’d probably get Starlight to teach him some basics, but not now when he was busy.
When the bar was in enough pieces, Starlight turned to Wil, holding them up triumphantly and trying to imitate one of Wil’s excited rumbles.
“Ih foouhken dehd iut!”
“You did it,” Wil praised, ears flicking happily.
__
Good things never lasted, they never fucking lasted.
Of course, Tommy’s life couldn't be an easy one. Sometimes he felt he was too much of an angsty teenager. But he figured the universe had put him through more than enough bullshit to earn it.
It had been a good day, great day even. Warbles had gotten right up in Tommy’s space the second he’d woken up. Usually he’d keep his distance until Tommy fully woke up, but today that rule was broken.
It had worried him at first, but when Warbles reached out and began to prod around his muzzle with gentle touch, he calmed. Warbles was never anything but kind, and Tommy had come to rely on the brief moments of shared contact.
It had started with Warbles allowing Tommy to check his temperature with a touch to the forehead, though he hadn’t understood at first. When Tommy found him especially freezing, they’d lay next to each other. Tommy halfway under the blanket as Warbles was under it, trying to sustain the much needed heat.
It was mildly alarming at first, sharing such close space with an alien, but Tommy tried to get over that idea in his head. The more he did it, the less Warbles felt like ‘some foreign alien’ and more just like someone else Tommy chose to share space with. Warbles surprisingly enough, didn’t shy away from contact, almost alarmingly so.
Tommy had always been a tactile person, and slowly he fell back into the familiarity of touch.
One ‘night’ when sleep didn’t seem to find either of them, Tommy had poked at Warbles ear. He twitched, but otherwise there was no other reaction. Tommy wondered if Warbles even had nerves, or if they functioned like his own; at the very least he wasn’t ticklish. Tommy traced his ear with a careful finger, laughing as he watched in amazement as it flicked in ways a human’s ears couldn’t.
When Warbles had reached out and poked Tommy’s ear in turn, he’d let out a startled noise and retreated. Warbles found this amusing, trilling softly.
After the initial bits of hesitation and fear between them disappeared, he never seemed to falter when Tommy reached out. Warbles didn’t seem to have the same set of expectations when it came to physical contact.
When Tommy reached out, it was to rest a hand on Warbles shoulder, to give a push to his arm, or to lean against Warbles back. When Warbles reached out it was unfamiliar. He would tap at Tommy’s fingers, he’d grab at an elbow, rest a head against a knee, but mostly he liked to fidget with Tommy’s hands. He’d mimic Tommy’s actions sometimes, but he found there were certain places he actively avoided.
One time out of pure boredom Tommy had tried to show Warbles his pulse, trying to press his fingers to his wrist. The second Warbles seemed to feel a pulse he froze. His eyes fixated on his own fingers, ears flickering just slightly. They sat like that for a while in silence, Tommy feeling oddly vulnerable until finally Warbles pulled his hand away. Warbles had looked at Tommy in a peculiar way after, blue swirling eyes fixated in surprising intensity. He did not show Tommy his own pulse.
From then on he strictly avoided Tommy’s wrists, almost like he viewed them differently. It wasn’t an act of repulsion, but more of a careful kind of respect.
Tommy recalled it all fondly as he soaked in the cool fingers moving through his hair. But then, suddenly, for the first time in months, the mechanism was released outside of meal time. It startled him out of his head, the wires were retracting back in the frames on their own accord.
And sure, Warbles hadn’t been able to take it off fully, probably because it needed a key, but now it was open. Tommy could breath unobstructed, he could eat whenever he pleased. It felt good.
He couldn’t help the stinging in his eyes, the sniffing in his nose as he worked his jaw. It was open to the air and free. One step closer to being free, to being human again.
Warbles wasn’t human, he was an alien just like them, but he’d given Tommy a piece of his humanity back. He’d given him hope.
He’d spent some time practically glued to Warbles side after that. His hands gestured here and there as he excitedly rambled about anything and everything. It felt easier to speak unrestricted, it was satisfying without the bite of the muzzle. Warbles would respond, some words registering, some familiar, and some flying right over his head.
He decided to admit then, he was unabashedly friends with an alien.
Best friends even, (not like he had any other friends).
Which, of course meant everything would go to shit.
Before Tommy even noticed, Green was there, lurking behind the panel like he always did. Warbles tensed, and that’s when Tommy knew something was wrong, eyes darting immediately to the panel.
Green was looking at a very alive Warbles, eyes darting from him to a very much non-aggressive Tommy. Tommy didn’t need to learn ‘stupid motherfucker’ body language to tell Green was both very displeased and perplexed.
When the panel to the room slid open, Tommy was both pleased and worried that Warbles was hissing. It was low and threatening in a way he’d never heard come from Warbles. He was distracted only momentarily before his head seemed to kick into gear and the situation hit him. He wasn’t about to let Warbles get hurt by Green, or let their plan (that he still hadn’t communicated to Warbles) fall through.
It all happened so fast, faster than Tommy could think.
Green was shouting something, and he could hear the familiar call of what he had learned were the names of the two other aliens. Everything was moving faster than it had in Tommy’s plan. He hadn’t gotten to Green before he could shout for the others. Which basically meant they were screwed.
Warbles was weak in general, but it didn’t help that he was cold blooded and frustratingly blasé about freezing to death. Tommy had tried to keep him warm most of the time, and not just for safety, but because he could exert a lot more energy when he was warm. He was stronger, and they needed that.
But most of the time Tommy had to remind him to use the blanket, because he wouldn’t ask for it otherwise. He’d done it today because Warbles was a selfless fuck, and it was about to greatly impact their ability to survive. Warbles was not at his peak for a physical altercation.
Which meant it was up to Tommy to defend them as well as get them the fuck out of here. The escape had to be now, because there was no way Green would let Warbles live. If they broke out of here, then maybe Warbles could figure out how the ship worked and find them a place to land, or he could call space 911.
Tommy had never gotten that far in the plan.
Fuck.
Green had stomped its way in, shouting in that grating way it did. Surprisingly, Warbles was spitting back what Tommy assumed were curses and insults (His voice never sounded that rough and short with Tommy), all while he sat like a deer in the headlights. His plan was mostly out the window because half of his opportunities were gone in the blink of an eye.
So, he made an executive decision.
Tommy came to life, panic and adrenaline rushing him. He grit his teeth, perching up to crouch low on the balls of his feet as he examined the situation. Green was distracted by Warbles, which was perfect. He felt a brief twinge of fear, the urge to just leave things be rather than fight crossing his mind. But then Green had taken a step closer to Warbles with that taser, and it was all gone in an instant.
Like hell Green was going to touch a hair of Warble's head. He was the first friend he’d had in years.
His buried anger fueled him more than fear, and he fed off of it. Green was the one who put him here, who terrorized him, and now he was going to hurt Warbles.
Tommy’s hand darted under his blanket to grab the gross mass of spat out granola bar, wasting no time in launching himself at the eight foot tall alien. He smashed the man-made rock into Green’s head with all the force he had. Unfortunately Green seemed to have some kind of skull, because his head didn’t explode on impact like the last person Tommy had killed.
Fuck, that was supposed to kill it.
Green screeched, a high pitched ugly noise as it waved the taser around, but Tommy was quicker.
He panicked, doing the next best thing from smashing Green’s face in. He jumped, latching onto its shoulders and back. His winding arms wrapped desperately around its neck, and his legs tight around its trunk so he wouldn’t slide down.
Green thrashed, nearly throwing Tommy off, but he held tight. The taser hit him, and his muscles locked up in a familiar sensation, he did his best to grit his teeth through the pain. Being tased only freaked him out the first hundred or so times.
The taser must’ve been pulled away from him somehow, because the sensation stopped shortly. It didn’t matter, Tommy took advantage of the blessing.
“You stupid motherfucker.” He cursed, nearly losing his grip. “Just die!” He tightened his chokehold as Green flailed around. Green’s screeching wasn’t cut off and the chokehold didn’t seem to do anything. “Do you not have a fucking working throat?!” He screamed his realization, heart in his throat.
He did the next best thing, or worst thing.
He counted his blessings, praying to every god out there that this time he would have at least some resistance to the poison.
He bit Green, digging his teeth in the junction of its shoulder and neck, hoping there was an artery or something there. He didn’t let go, even when the acrid taste of poison hit his tongue and the intense burning set in. He just adjusted his hold, not faltering even as Green screamed, it was definitely doing something .
Green turned and backed up violently and pain exploded from Tommy’s back as he was slammed harshly into a wall. His mouth openly briefly in a choked off sound of pain and shock. His nose was running and tears were flowing as he tried to adjust his grip, sweat was beginning to make him slip.
He had spent far too many months contained in these four walls, picturing what I’d be like to finally be able to win. To be free, to make the world suffer for all it’d put him through.
To fight for all he’d lost.
He had the briefest glance of Warbles as he dug his nails deeper into Green, frantic to end the fight soon. He must have ripped the taser from Green, because it was in his hands as he shouted something or another at Tommy.
So, that’s how the tasing had stopped.
Tommy took back anything bad he ever thought about Warbles, he was a true ride or die.
All his homies loved Warbles.
Green kept smashing him against the wall but Tommy held strong.
Tommy had a good life, a great life even; before space. He had a place he’d called home, a woman who’d loved him, tentative connections he’d begun to build. Nights where he swept his broom and sang his heart out, the woman he thought of as a mother singing along.
She’d bake him the best croissants when she could’ve just gotten store-bought, insisting he was worth it. Let him sleep in the booth of her diner when they’d only just met. She’d taught him to dance, to love music, to let his voice be heard. She had taught him to love, showed him that family was something bright, beautiful, and real.
And they’d taken her away from him.
Ripped him away from everything he had for the excuse of the good of humanity, for exploration.
And here he was, lightyears away from where he’d once called home. He was with an alien he could barely understand, one he’d spent some of his worst weeks with. They sang and hummed to each other, communicating however they could, and created something out of nothing. They’d formed the familiar roots of trust and comfort, in a place Tommy didn’t think was possible.
He wasn’t going to let something like that be ripped from him, not again.
They locked eyes, Warbles looking equal parts horrified, worried, and pissed. Tommy’s everything hurt, his eyes blurring with streaming and burning tears. There was an odd panicked pounding in his chest that told him he was running out of time. He knew he wouldn’t be able to hang on much longer, but his resolve was formed from the venom crafted from months of hurt.
He was fighting, clawing his way to freedom. And he wasn’t alone.
Warbles had given him hope, comfort, and freedom. Even now as he fought, Warbles could just leave him, burst out the open door and save himself. But he stood there, right in the line of danger.
They were going to win, or they were going to go down fighting.
He knew just what to do.
He felt a sick sort of satisfaction, and he couldn’t stop himself from smiling at Warbles. It was so wide it hurt; his teeth were dripping with the neon blood of his enemy, eyes red and burning with equal parts rage and poison.
He probably looked every part the monster they’d treated him as for months. He was giddy with terror and joy because he could feel freedom just at his fingertips, another chance breathing life into him.
He’d made a promise when Green had dumped Warbles in his cage. He’d paint these grey walls green; a promise he’d been waiting to fulfill. And now he had the chance.
He spoke the one command in galactic Green had etched in his brain,
“Kill it,”
And without hesitation, he was biting further into Green’s flesh, molars and all, until something snapped.
If they had wanted a beast, they were about to get one.
__
Wilbur should’ve taken the muzzle off sooner, but he’d been eyeing it since they’d met, trying to figure out how he could. He didn’t have the key, but he was certain there was a way to retract the wires manually. He hadn’t wanted to get Starlight’s hopes up, but at this point, it didn’t matter.
Starlight had saved him. He could’ve been in Dream’s grasp locked up somewhere far worse. He was away from his family, but it was so much easier because he had someone with him. Starlight treated him with the kindness of a pod member. So much so, Wilbur started to see it that way. They’d bonded in quiet nights of crushing terror, singing together like he liked to do with Techno and Phil.
He got to have someone to care for, to focus his energy on. It was only a matter of time before he grew attached. So seeing Starlight hurting, hurt him. Starlight was crazy but kind, loud but soft, and he was Wil’s pod away from home.
When he was able to figure out the mechanism and pop it off, he almost cried in joy. Well, almost was the wrong word considering he’d left blue stains on the back of Starlight's shirt. Starlight had looked instantly relieved, rubbing the spaces where the wires had once been.
Things had been hard, but surprisingly tolerable. Things would look up, he’d be back home and he’d help Starlight find his home again. He had to have a pod somewhere, Wilbur could tell by how young he was, how social he was. It hadn’t been hard to figure out Starlight wasn’t fully grown, that he should be somewhere under the care of his parents and pod mates.
He knew Techno and Phil had to be close. He’d checked the tracker this morning to make sure it was still working, and thankfully it was. Dream had warped quite a bit if he remembered, so he knew it would take a while to catch up. But once they did, they’d save him and Starlight.
Except Dream came back before the resistance did.
All he could think about was that they hadn’t had enough time. He was going to be killed before he could help Starlight, but he had no qualms fighting Dream before he went.
Dream who'd not only hurt two of his pod, but now three.
“How the fuck are you still alive?” Was the first thing out of Dream’s mouth
“You tell me.” Wilbur had responded, and then things escalated from there.
“Did it fucking imprint on you?” Dream asked incredulously, anger thick in his voice.
Wilbur’s own anger once tucked away, was now flaring to life. Dream had come in, talking about Starlight like he was some beast, a fucking taser in hand like he was about to put him down. And sure he hadn’t known Starlight for that long, but sue him, he was his little human friend. His honorary pod member.
“It? It?! He is not an it,” And then he was spewing all the words he had wanted to say. “I knew you were sick, but not sick enough to fucking imprison someone again ! Do your own laws mean nothing to you?”
Wilbur was infuriated and he was going to give Dream a piece of his mind, safety be damned. Dream had kept his brother in the pits, his dad on the run, and he’d treated Starlight like a beast when clearly he wasn’t.
“Person?” Dream laughed, and then abruptly cut himself off. “George, Sapnap! Wilbur’s fucking alive!”
“Of course, I’m still alive!” He exploded, ignoring the deathly taser that was awfully close to his face. “He’s not some fucking monster-”
“No, it’s a human! Oh my fucking god, I can’t believe this.” Dream hissed. Wilbur could see the wrath he was so widely known for simmering in his eyes. “I put one of you stupid SBI fucks in a room with a human, and I still can’t get you out of my life!” He almost sounded hysterical.
Wilbur couldn’t even open his mouth to retaliate, before he was watching with increasing horror as his human was rocketing towards Dream. Maybe if he’d had his second set of eyes open, he would’ve noticed Starlight creeping up. Maybe then he would’ve been able to stop him. But no,
His arguably small, gangly, Starlight- the one he was trying to protect- was launching himself at the biggest, baddest, dictator the galaxy had ever seen.
The kid was flying at the man the resistance had tried and failed to kill for years.
Wilbur screamed.
Dream screamed.
“Get it off, get it off!” The taser came to life all at once, and Wilbur’s hearts dropped. Only a fire born could survive the amount of electricity in those, he was going to kill Starlight. “Get the fuck off!”
His hearts were kickstarting, pushing against every biological restraint he had. He wasn’t a fighter, far from it, but the idea of Starlight dying after all they’d been through had him rushing forward faster then he ever had. Starlight would not die before they could get him back to his human pod.
“Dream don’t you fucking dare!” He snarled, but he was too late. He’d turned the taser around, jabbing it into Starlight’s shoulder with a sickening crackling sound, and Starlight had frozen.
He didn’t even think, he was shooting forward. One touch from that taser and he would be dropping dead, but he didn’t care. He was yanking it from Dream’s hands, using strength he didn’t even know he had. Pure rage filled him and he bared both sets of teeth,
“You’re dead,” He growled, voice echoing itself from his throat, “I’m going to-”
And then he was cut off by the sweet voice of Starlight, no longer frozen on Dream’s back but once again blazing. He looked so terribly human, and alive.
Wait, alive?
Wilbur faltered for only a second before he remembered Starlight was a human, practically a freak of nature. He was quick to turn the taser, pointing it at Dream, ready to slam it into him. His hands shook and he tried to find the button that would activate it.
“What the fuck?!” Dream screeched. “You stupid shit!”
And then he was backing up as Dream jerked forward, whatever Starlight was doing clearly hurting him. He didn’t know how, or what, but he’d only ever seen Dream hurt like that in battle with Techno. But that wouldn’t last long, they were running out of time.
This was Dream, who’d killed and fought hundreds, who couldn’t even die under his brother’s blade. His family had chased him across the galaxy, fought with everything they had. They’d been terrorized by the asshole for decades; he had to get Starlight out of here before they both died.
He got a better grip on the taser, and he steadied himself. Fighting Dream was a death wish, but he didn’t exactly have much of a choice.
Conveniently Dream had backed himself in a corner, slamming Starlight into the wall with a thud so loud it had Wilbur’s ears ringing.
Panic flooded him and he hurried forward, fumbling with the taser in his hands. Dream was strong, and the way he was slamming Starlight into the wall was probably going to kill him. “Fuck, fuck, how the fuck does this work?” He muttered to himself, frantically feeling around the taser. It was a model he was unfamiliar with, one only Dream’s army used, because it was intended to kill.
Then he felt it, the indent of the button. He looked up, just in time to catch Starlight’s eyes.
It felt like everything slowed, he was looking at the most terrifying sight any person could ever see. Starlight’s mouth was covered in Dream’s viscous blood, one of the most poisonous substances in the galaxy, and then the corners of his lips rose up.
His pupils were blown, nearly taking up all of the pretty blue Wil liked; red veins burning through the white of his eyes like branches of lightning. They trembled, jittering in so much emotion and energy Wilbur could feel it. His face was contorting; his nostrils were flaring, and lips were peeling back and revealing the shocking white rows of blunt teeth. They were bathed in blood, his mouth so wide Wil could see the notorious, horrific, molars.
It was fucking terrifying, every bit the monster from the drawings. For once Starlight looked exactly like the dangerous, unpredictable creature the entire galaxy avoided and feared.
It was so human, Starlight was so fucking human.
But this time Wil wasn’t scared. No, he imagined he was feeling a fraction of what Starlight was feeling now,
Pure exhilaration and life.
And then he understood. Every time Starlight bared his teeth like that, it wasn’t a threat; it was joy, it was life itself. Chaos and destruction incarnate. Emotion so powerful it fractured an expression, demanding attention. He was a being that felt positive emotion so strongly, it bared its teeth at the world. It was a fuck you, a spite to nature itself; A reminder that no matter how the world turned, this species would grit it’s teeth and express joy in spite of anything and anyone else.
Who wouldn’t fear such a being?
“Kill it.” Starlight shouted, and then those very same teeth were biting through flesh, Molars sinking into and snapping- no, crushing bones.
Wilbur didn’t hesitate.
The purple light of the taser crackled to life, and he stabbed it into Dream, not even flinching as the scent of burning flesh filled the air.
–
Techno was going to kill Dream, and then he was going to kill Wilbur. They had spent four months trailing behind the idiot, trying to keep up to the frantic and nonsensical warps of Dream’s ship. Fighting far too many of Dream’s men, not even knowing if his brother would be alive on the other side.
Their dad was going to die of stress or anger by this point. Techno had never seen his feathers so stiff and in disarray before. He didn’t blame him though, every time he walked by Wil’s empty room it was worse than a stab in the gut.
And Techno had been stabbed enough times, especially by Dream, to know what was worse.
Months of stress, of bloodshed that brought no relief to the voices he heard all lead up to this moment. They waited for the perfect moment to sneak onto Dream’s personal ship. It made sense Wilbur, a ‘terrorist’ and one of the most valued ‘war criminals’ was being kept on Dream’s personal ship.
His dad had wasted no time in taking out the security systems. They used one of the virus-filled chips provided by their undercover ally Tubbo to infect the ship. The entire resistance had supported efforts towards Wilbur’s recovery. Wilbur was his brother first, but one of the resistance's valuable strategists second.
The security droids, the alarms, the weapons, all of it was disarmed within two measly hours.
Dream location was unknown, but they figured he must’ve been somewhere further in the ship, if he was even on it. His soldiers were quick to notice the no longer functioning droids. They came right to the control room, where they were waiting.
Techno and Phil met Sapnap and George head on. Both of them were people the resistance wanted dead. The battle was a rough one, but Techno cherished each and every drop of blood that bled from their flesh. It was quick with his skill and Phil’s palpable rage.
With Wilbur closer than ever, it was harder and harder to be patient. If Dream had noticed something was wrong, then he might harm his brother.
And if a hair on his brother’s head was harmed, Dream was going to wish he’d never sentenced Techno to the pit; Because it gave him the time to hone the skill of wielding his blade. The blade Techno would kill him with.
__
“Is he dead?” Tommy asked, peering down at Green who was laying on the floor. He’d dropped after Warbles had spent an absurd amount of time electrocuting him. Tommy had barely jumped off of his back in time, spitting out a disgusting chunk of burning flesh and riding the shaking wave of adrenaline.
Warbles didn’t respond, crouching down near the body and tilting his head as he examined the corpse(?). It was only now that Tommy kind of registered Warbles was much taller than him, and he was really starting to dislike this trend of aliens being taller than him. Though it’d certainly worked out in his favor when he’d latched onto Green to take him out.
He kept sniffing, the burning was not letting up. His vision was kind of blurry, but the adrenaline in his system was somewhat helping him ignore the pain of the poison. The longer he felt safe, the less survival clouded his head. Which made it all the more difficult to ignore his symptoms.
He knew he sounded rough with how he was struggling to breathe. He kept having to turn his head and spit, his body was trying to flush out the gross toxin as best as it could. He felt like fire ants on space crack were crawling all over him, and he was burning up.
Warbles, rightfully, seemed wary of Green. But soon enough he was hopping back up on his feet and shuffling next to Tommy. Their shoulders knocked and Tommy found weird reassurance in the fact that at least this time when he killed someone, he had someone here with him. Warbles and him had potentially just killed someone together.
If the alien thought he and Tommy weren’t best friends bonded for life before, they were now. Surely Warbles species had best friends, it had to be universal. There was no better bond than one forged with blood, mutual suffering, and murder.
He spoke a few words in galactic, and Tommy caught something that might potentially mean something like ‘dead-gone’. Which was fantastic news, because he hadn’t just ripped a nasty chuck of sandpapery flesh out with his teeth for his mortal enemy to just be asleep.
“Alright bet,” He said. He didn’t hesitate to stick a foot out, knocking it right into Green’s face.
He was finally free. The being that’d been his own personal Satan was dead at his feet. By his own hands. He was only sixteen(maybe) and he’d just killed a man.
A very, very, bad man of course.
This meant him and Warbles could get help. They could figure out how to get free. Maybe Warbles would call his friends up, and then they’d help with the clusterfuck that was Tommy’s life. Either way, he had complete trust in Warbles, especially after they just committed murder together.
Maybe they could-
Green’s stupid little five-fingered hand wrapped around his ankle, and Tommy screeched; his happiness and plans of grandeur burning up in flames. “He’s alive!”
He stumbled as Green pulled on his ankle, torn up neck cracking to slowly look up at him with gross beady eyes. Tommy almost shat bricks. “Let go, let go, you stupid motherfucker!” He’d kicked to no avail, lips curling in disgust and anger as his fear returned to full force. “Warbles!”
He hissed, the galactic word for ‘no-bad-incorrect’ spilling from his mouth in hopes it was being used somewhat correctly. He wished he had the hindsight to get Warbles to teach him how to curse in galactic, because his English curses weren’t feeling like enough in this situation.
Cold but familiar arms wrapped around him, and soon enough his feet were off the ground. Warbles was speaking frantically in his ears, some words sharp and aggressive like he was cursing as well. Tommy shook his leg, trying to get Green to release his ankle. With Warbles pulling him backward, and his squirming combined, Green lost its grip.
Tommy let Warbles hold him, practically running back to the other side of the room. Tommy’s feet were dangling just above the ground as they both looked at the absolute psycho that was now crawling towards them. Tommy thought it must be straight out of some low-budget horror movie.
He didn’t fight out of Warbles hold- not because he was scared, because he totally wasn’t scared-
Green’s neck couldn’t support itself anymore, and it cracked to the side, head tilted and slitted mouth opening to release blood, and the most terrifying sound ever.
Tommy screamed, clutching onto the arms Warbles had around him for dear life in pure terror.
“Fuck this horror movie bullshit!” He almost sobbed. “This motherfucker won’t die,” He was literally watching it dragging itself on the floors with claws, all poison and beady fucking eyes. It was like he was never going to escape the nightmare of this place.
Warbles seemed to be cursing, simultaneously trilling in horror; probably unknowingly agreeing with what Tommy was saying.
Green wasn’t fast by any means, but Warbles kept backing up until they hit the wall. There wasn’t a clear path to the door and they were trapped.
Tommy’s heart was pounding and a mixture of terror and annoyance was flooding him. “If the other two come in here we’re super fucked,”
And of course, then it got worse,
Green seemed to begin to stand up, blood still pouring from its shoulder, and Tommy wondered when this nightmare would end. He could already feel his stomach protesting at whatever he’d consumed, and he knew he didn’t have long before he’d have to throw it up and cry. But they didn’t have time for that, they needed to get out of here, kill the others and call space 911 asap.
They’d also have to put down the eldritch horror that was Green.
God clearly hadn’t created it in his image, that’s for damn sure.
Green had stood up looking all kinds of wrong and Tommy lost probably the last bit of sanity he had. He was consumed in a sea of fear and disgust.
“That’s it,” He said, squirming in Warbles grasp. “Put me down Warbles I’m about to take care of this,” That is if he didn’t throw up and cry before then.
He reckoned he had about three minutes before the shock wore off from all the blood, gore, and horror. When it did he would be out of commission and horribly traumatized, perhaps a shell of a man.
He had to act now. Because Green was approaching far too fast on cracking knees.
Warbles seemed to get the message because soon enough Tommy was being set down on his feet again. Warbles tried to get a protective arm in front of Tommy, probably trying to step between him and Green. But Tommy wasted no time darting over and snatching up the cool metal of the taser. He yanked it away from Green before it could use it against them.
Tasing it hadn’t killed Green so,
God forgive him for his sins,
If he ever got back to earth he’d go to church. He was pretty sure the pastor in the confessional booth would repent him or whatever; maybe even thank him for beating the shit out of a literal demon.
Sins didn’t count if you repented, so he just had to make sure he and Warbles lived to repent their murder.
Tommy raised it over his head like a bat, snarling down at the being that kept him in hell. What was one more person murdered right? One more wouldn’t be much harm.
“Die bitch,” Then he was bringing the taser down, slamming it into Green’s head before he was raising it again and hitting, over, and over, and over.
If he wasn’t so hyperfocused on beating the shit out of the devil, he might’ve noticed Warbles hand on his back.
More Green blood splattered around them, some hitting him right in the face, but Tommy was smart enough now not to wipe it and spread the toxin. Green was screeching still, squirming and flailing but Tommy felt no amount of pity towards it, all he could see was red. In his head it was just the same as killing a cockroach in the diner for his mom, except this time it was life or death
Months and months he’d spent in captivity, letting this fuck do whatever it pleased, take from him whatever it wanted. He’d never get that time back. He’d never get his life or his mom back. He’d never taste those damn croissants again, load up change in the jukebox to play her favorite songs for hours, listen to her belt the lyrics to Elton John; he’d never experience those things again.
He’d never hug her again.
He’d never get to say goodbye.
And she’d never get to see him grow up.
To see him bake croissants just like she did, to see him make a new family, to love just like she’d taught him.
Green hadn’t taken all that from him, but he might as well have. It was going to pay for what it did to Warbles and him. Pay for that and so, so, much more. For every injustice Tommy had ever experienced.
Long after Green finally stopped screaming, stopped twitching and convulsing on the floor, Tommy stopped. Chest heaving and face dripping with green-tinted snot and tears, feeling absolutely disgusting. Green looked no different, a picture of mess and gore. It was bent in places it hadn’t been before, green blood pooling over the grey metal of the floor like some kind of fucked up slip and slide. There was not an inch of space in the cell that didn’t have a splash of the blood. Except for Warbles- wait Warbles.
Warbles trilled from next to him, ears pinned back as he stared down at the scene from over Tommy’s shoulder.
“Gross, I know,” Tommy said through heavy breaths, through tears and a broken voice that he was sure wasn’t just from the poison anymore.
Warbles hand was firm on his back, soft trills contrasting whatever horrified words he was speaking. Tommy couldn’t look up from the body though, something like disgust settling in his stomach.
He’d done that.
All he could think about was how Green had performed tests on him, kept him captive, treated him like shit. Just as bad as his government sending him on a confidential suicide mission, leaving his mom to die thinking he ran away from her,
He didn’t know if his brutal murder had avenged all that, or made him just as bad.
He saw Green’s fingers twitch and he grimaced, feeling the responding flinch from Warbles. Warbles who stood at his side right now with soothing words and protective hands despite having every reason to fear him.
Warbles who Green had left to be mauled, who’d probably been pulled from his own family to be sent off to never return.
Tommy couldn’t be just as bad, because Green deserved it.
He snapped from his moral dilemma when he heard shuffling from the open door. Immediately he was looking up, taser pointed towards the door as he put a protective arm out to shield Warbles.
He didn’t think he stood a chance up against both Fire and Mushroom at once, but he’d die fighting.
And apparently Warbles shared the sentiment, because he was at attention just behind Tommy, teeth out and every eye open.
__
The last thing Phil had been expecting when he’d come to find his son, was the scene that awaited them. In fact, even in his wildest nightmares, wildest hallucinations, he’d never imagined something like this.
Techno and him stood in the doorway of the cell, just at the back of the ship where the tracker binged. They’d taken care of Sapnap and George, though not without their own injuries. George had gotten his right-wing pretty good, and he could feel how his feathers were weighted with his own blood. Techno unsurprisingly was mostly unscathed from Sapnap’s attacks, but Phil wasn’t blind to how he was leaning a bit too much on his left leg.
It didn’t matter though, they’d take Dream if they had to. They’d spent far too long trying to kill him, and this would be it. Even if they died trying. Nobody touched Phil’s family.
But they were faced with much, much worse than Dream,
Phil hadn’t even stepped through the door before Techno was pulling him back, blade withdrawn and pointed right at the snarling creature covered in Dream’s blood. It was more green blood than Phil had even seen Techno able to draw.
It was a snarling human.
“Oh my god,” Phil murmured, staring at the very deformed image of his greatest enemy on the ground at the human’s feet. Toxic blood splattered everywhere in a terrifying scene of gore he could barely stomach. Phil reached out, grabbing onto his snarling son to prevent him from charging. He was in shock, his brain faltering completely.
They were beyond dead.
His talons tightened onto Techno’s sleeve, frozen stock still as he stared. “Techno, do not move.”
They went silent, Phil hoping, no praying that they wouldn’t be mauled to death. He knew it was inevitable. No one lived after seeing a human, nobody. Proven by Dream, the man who spent decades not fucking dying, and not by people’s lack of trying, He was dead at the human’s feet like it had been no big deal for it.
Phil had to hope, he had to.
Maybe the human wouldn’t see them if they didn’t move- Was it blind to-
The human barked something, stepping forward with the crackling taser and Phil could feel Techno tense. He growled threateningly, grip tightening on his blade as he was ready to charge. Even if it was a fight he and Phil knew would be lost.
Part of Phil accepted this would be it for them, and maybe Techno had as well.
“Wati, they’re my family. They’re not with Dream,” Called a very familiar voice.
And holy fuck.
Philza must’ve already been dead, because there was his other son, looking totally unharmed as he grabbed the human- Phil blanched, bone-chilling terror filling him. His son was going to die-
“No,” Wilbur said firmly, tugging on the human’s sleeves.
Phil had been expecting to see the blue blood of his son spill on the floor, mixed with the green already splattered everywhere. He’d have but a moment to mourn before he would be joining his son at the hands of the human.
But the light from the taser shut off as the human did the unthinkable and dropped it. Snarl gone as it straightened, short yet terrifying as it turned to look at Wilbur.
“Auhr yew fookin kuddung muh? Do yew wauhnt uzs tuh dihe?” The human spat at his son, arms flailing around in what surely was an aggressive motion.
They were so fucking dead. Phil could feel his wings tense just at the heart-racing proximity of danger. He’d fought many wars but nothing compared to the fear he felt now.
“Wil,” Techno growled in warning, even his usually monotone voice shaky with fear, but he didn’t move. No one of sound mind would move closer to a human, he could provoke it and get them all killed. “Don’t touch it,” He adjusted the grip on his blade, rolling forward on his hooves despite Phil’s warning chirp. “Don’t move,” He started to raise his blade ever so slowly and Phil prayed it was strong enough to slice through human skin.
It probably wouldn’t be, but they’d die valiantly fighting for their family.
“No!” Wilbur trilled, yanking the human back and-
God Phil was going to drop dead at this point, watching as his son stepped in front of the monster like it was nothing.
“Techno you are not killing Starlight, I swear to god if you-”
Phil’s head kicked into gear all at once.
“You named it?” He shrieked, wings puffing up behind him in disbelief and horror. He was ready to shoot forward and grasp his son, cover them with his wings and futilely hope it’d be enough.
“Him.” Wilbur shot back, trills turning threatening as he glared at Phil, ears pinned back.
He’d never looked at his flock like that, a sick mixture of fear and anger, never. Even in the worst of fights, it was reserved only for the enemy. And here he was, standing in front of the most dangerous creature in the galaxy.
Techno’s grip faltered on his blade, and he looked at Phil stunned. “Dad, can humans use mind control?”
Phil didn’t even get the chance to respond, interrupted by the terrifying sound of the living breathing human staring at them.
“Yew fooker muhoove yooor gouhnna git shahnked,” The human was tugging on his son’s shirt, snarling at Techno as he grabbed him.
“Techno-” Phil warned, feeling his talons extend to their full length as he readied to launch forward and pry his son from the beast.
He might lose a wing in his efforts but damn if he wasn’t going to try, terror or not.
“Dad, stop. Tell Techno to drop his sword.” Wilbur demanded, tugging the human into his space with his long arms. He was warbling protectively, both his voices echoing each other in a cacophony of warning.
Phil had raised them both from children, and he’d never expected Wil to make that sound at his flock. He also didn’t expect to encounter a human, or watch his son wrap his arms around said human and not get his head lopped clean off.
Techno huffed, a mix of stress and anger coming from his snout as he turned back to Phil. His ears pointed straight up and alert. “Dad, he's being controlled by it.”
“ He .” Wil emphasized once more. “-And he can’t control people.” Wilbur shouted, pulling the squirming human closer to his chest. “He’s very nice,”
Phil looked at the spitting barking human, squirming in his son’s arms as it looked up at him.
He was aging rapidly. It was a miracle he hadn’t dropped dead to the ground in fear and stress yet. He didn’t know if he was thankful or horrified that their lives were being dragged on instead of being mauled immediately.
“Wil, you’re holding a human.” He said bluntly, a certain kind of numbness encroaching on him the longer he stared at the scene.
There was no way this was real. He had to have gone mad.
“Move so I can decapitate it,” Techno grunted, simply.
Wil hissed, the sound feral and instinctual, his lips curling back and revealing all his teeth in an expression Phil had never seen him use before in his life. “Don’t you dare,”
Techno made a concerned noise. Nothing ever really caught him that off guard, not since he was just a runt hiding in Phil’s closet from voices he couldn’t control. But right now the look his son who’d survived hell and back was giving him, was world-shattering.
His parental instincts took hold of him, human be damned. His eyes narrowed at Wil, wings puffing up.
“Wilbur, I need you to calm down, we don’t know what it did to you,” Phil felt the strength in his voice, coming from somewhere deep and usually untouched. He stepped forward, nudging Techno aside with his wings to reach out for Wil.
The human did not like Phil encroaching on its territory because it snarled from Wilbur’s arms, but it didn’t make any move to rush forward. The sound was enough for Phil to freeze though, heart pounding and wings tensing as he stared at the blue gaze that met his eyes head-on.
“You guys aren’t listening to me,” Wilbur said, anger lacing through his words. “Starlight is good! He killed Dream, and he’s intelligent, we were wrong about humans.”
The mangled corpse on the floor did not seem like proof humans were not the terrifying dangerous creatures as rumored.
Techno was staring down at Dream, lips peeled back around his smaller tusks in disgust. “It’s immune to the poison,” He sounded equal parts awed and grossed out by this, hand tightening on his sword as he looked back up.
This seemed to be the breaking point for Wil, because he scooped up the squealing human like it was a guppy, stepping forward with it in his arms and holding it out to Phil and Techno.
They both immediately scrambled back, curses flying from Phil’s mouth and Techno rapidly losing color. “Wilbur, what are you doing!” Phil shouted, wings wrapping protectively around him and Techno to help shield them from the human.
They were all going to die. Wilbur had always been a wild kid, but this was a bit too far. Had Phil failed as a parent? Gone wrong somewhere and now his flock was going to pay for his mistakes.
“I’m trying to show you he’s nice!” Wilbur shouted hysterically, shoving at Phil’s wings with the cradled human.
“You’re crazy- He’s crazy,” Techno was snarling, sword held out protectively as he was slowly backing closer into Phil’s protective hold.
“Just fucking trust me! Look!” Wilbur snarled back, far too many teeth showing still.
Phil froze, feeling a burning hand that was definitely not his son’s running through his feathers with painfully gentle touch.
This was it, he thought. But no pain or death came.
He watched in shock as the human combed through one of his feathers, pulling its odd five-fingered hand back and looking up at Wil with something that looked like awe. “See Dad? He’s just fine, we were wrong about humans,” Wilbur said quietly, blue swirling in his eyes and starting to drip down.
Phil’s heart ached at the sight of his son.
The human didn’t make a move to hurt Wil, hadn’t laid a hand on him at all despite their proximity. It also hadn’t attacked them, hadn’t gone to harm Techno who had just held a sword to it earlier.
And now Wil was crying, not because of the human. But because of Phil.
The desperation in his son’s voice, and the way his tears spilled made Phil pause.
He could hear the quiet but concerned rumble come from Techno, distressed by the look on his brother's face, “Wil-”
Techno was cut off by the soft, almost quiet murmur of the human. The human was raising its sleeve to wipe at the blue falling from his son’s face.
What the fuck?
Phil felt himself falter, an idea nagging in the back of his head as he stared at the human. Now that he was looking at it he realized it was quite small, gangly yes, but short. Its head looked too big for its body, limbs awkward like it wasn’t fully grown into them, and its eyes were large, blue, and shiny as it stared up at Wil.
It was also sniffing and crying the green toxin from Dream, probably having been poisoned, blood all over its face.
It looked like a fledgling.
It really hadn’t made a move to attack the three people in its proximity, despite the chance being there with it pressed between Wil and Phil’s wings.
Phil swallowed, trying to open his mind just a bit and hear out his son. Examine the situation without bias.
It wasn’t quite the same situation, but he could remember a young Wil leaning in front of a feral and snarling piglin runt, one notorious in fighting rings for pulling off the impossible with thousands of wins. Techno had been volatile, needing to be chained up, but a massive money winner for Dream.
He’d also just been a scared runt, alone in a cell only let out to fight. No one dared to do anything about it, nobody but his new son with a bleeding heart, befriending who he rightfully saw as a kid behind bars; all while Phil did business with Dream.
Wilbur had begged and pleaded, so set on the fact that they had to save his brother. The brother he’d claimed as his. And ultimately Phil had committed his first act of treason against the United Galactic, going to his usual meeting with Dream and leaving one piglin heavier. Stealing what was seen as Dream’s greatest weapon and asset.
Phil had never looked back, only reflecting with guilt that it’d taken his son to scream and cry some sense into him. He promised to never be that person again, to fight and give his all against the corrupt mess of the UG.
Wilbur was looking at this human with that painfully familiar fondness.
He broke.
“Is it a fledgling?” Phil asked softly, watching as it was murmuring something to his son, humming with something painfully soft and gentle.
Wilbur was humming back at it, the pointed end of his ears flickering happily at the human in his grasp. He looked back at Phil, swirling eyes soft and dewy.
“I’m pretty sure,” He said, something warm in his tone. “He’s got to have a family missing him out there somewhere,”
There was a beat of silence.
“We are not taking it home.” Techno said, glaring at the two of them, but Phil knew him well enough to hear how his tone was unsure. “I don’t know what trickery it’s using on you lot, but fledglin’ or not it's dangerous.”
The human's dangling feet were kicking softly, and it kept snorting quietly, expelling air from its mouth like it was battling Dream’s poison. Surely it was weakened, in lots of pain despite miraculously not being dead.
“Thuis iz weuherd, Wahrbules youhr fuhrendz aur weuherd,” The dangling feet stopped, and something like unease seemed to settle on the human.
Wil was humming quietly, trying to soothe it. The sound clashed with his other voice, firm and determined as he spoke to his flock.
“Starlight is not dangerous, he’s perfectly docile, and he’s sapient,” Wilbur insisted, still holding tight to the human. “Just like us,” Wilbur hesitated, eyes flashing to the corpse on the ground. “Well mostly- we just had a bad day.”
The human was looking between them all, it’s pupils were weirdly jittery, jumping between every movement it saw like a predator honing in on any sign of life. The more Phil looked at it- at him, the more unassuming he looked.
Just like the drawings in the books, but not at all.
“It’ll kill us,” Techno said flatly.
And then something in the air had changed.
The human did a complete 180 in behavior, stiffening in Wil’s arms and looking at Techno with wide and piercing eyes. He almost looked understanding and it unnerved Phil. Intelligence radiated from him, looking more present than it had the entire conversation. It tugged at Phil.
There was no way-
And then he spoke, in broken but clear Galactic.
“No kill,”
They would leave the ship, one human heavier.