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The day started out like any other, Wilbur and Tommy got up early, walking down the path to the church, and set up the sermon for the day. It was a nice routine they were set in performing every day, and there was no one else he would rather do this church scam with than his kid brother.
He hears the piano keys being fidgeted with, his brother tuning his guitar to the sounds of it, and he smiles. Tommy was the one good thing he had, his one reason to continue on even when the radiation makes his hands shake. If he tried, he could see Tommy the first day they met, the young boy hesitant and cautious, paranoid as much as Wilbur was. He would give him parts of his rations for a few weeks because who was he to let a young boy starve? Then when he finally gained enough of the boy’s trust, Tommy had joined his side of the clearing, sitting a few inches from Wilbur, and eventually leaning into his side as exhaustion got the best of him. Wilbur wasn’t used to the touch, to any physical affection, but it filled his chest with a warmth, a sanguine nectar that tasted like the honeyed hot chocolate his mother used to make him.
After that initial contact, the two of them became inseparable, frequently speaking over each other, holding similar ideas, and extending a hand when the other was off. Some of the church members were astonished to see the bond the two shared, considering one of the days that Wilbur had been early, strengthening the wooden roof, Tommy had come down only a few hours later. The boy had looked normal, acting jovial and teasing Lake Boy, Milo, for his name and helping the Messiah, Ty, with the new sermon accompaniment. It was just when Wilbur came down from the steeple steps that they realized that his smile had been forced, his playful banter a desperate wish to come off as normal, because when the boy looked at Wilbur his grin turned soft. Their pastor had taken one look at the boy and opened his arms, the kid rushing into them and they held a hushed conversation. It was so much more obvious from then on, that those two were not just a man with his obnoxious child sidekick, this was a pair of brothers, intertwined by their “love” of the Dome.
The rest of that day, Tommy was tucked into Wilbur’s side, playing with the rings on Wilbur’s fingers and snarking back at Wilbur when the older man tells him off for getting one stuck on his knuckle.
To those not in the church, it wasn’t as apparent that Tommy was his top priority, but it could become clear when realizing they live together, that the man always has a rifle on his back, his dark eyes scanning every figure in their vicinity, and the way whenever one of them came closer to the duo, the man would pull the boy against him. Nobody but Tommy knew about the handgun that rests on the back of his hip, covered by his massive dark brown trench coat, and how whenever someone walks towards them his hand subtly slips towards it.
It could also be seen in the soft smile that plays on Wilbur’s face when he watches Tommy play the guitar, that he gifted to him, plucking the strings with newly calloused fingers, scared of breaking the delicate strings. There was also the way that they cheered together when finishing a new addition to the church, jumping into a hug and spinning and hollering. Outsiders were not exactly attuned to those behaviors, but it can be obvious when Kanye’s first pillage on the church failed because Wilbur had locked himself up in the steeple with his sniper rifle, and sent Tommy to distract the man before Wilbur could get a good shot. (It didn’t make sense until the chaos was over.) The members of the church watched as Wilbur with the utmost precision shot Kanye in the neck, a shot that could’ve gone horribly wrong since Tommy was stood next to him, but they watched as Tommy turned to face the steeple and threw a thumbs up towards their pastor, beaming up at him.
They began to realize that Tommy was his reasoning for existence, after the boy pounced on Wilbur in a jumbled hug, the rifle laid abandoned on the ground, and Wilbur only laughed at him and squeezed his brother against him. “I’ll kill him, if he ever gets close to you again,” Wilbur had told the boy, pecking the messy golden curls atop the boy’s head.
It’s why then Sophie, Milo, and Quig were convinced by Fort Kickass that the whole entire church was a scam, used to drain them dry for the profit, that they realized it could be something they could use to their advantage. They could take the boy from Wilbur’s hands and use him as bait, kill him, but they were offered a better plan, one to destroy any piece of home or safety those two had. (Bring the boy, we’ll kill him in front of Wilbur, it’ll give him a piece of his own medicine.)
When attempting this part of the plan, Quig going up to the house to see if it was locked, it was, so he knocked politely. If Wilbur was asleep, the boy most likely would answer, which meant an easy grab, but instead, their pastor opened the door, gun in hand. His expression was interesting, his eyebrows turned down, his eyes steeled, and his usual grin a harsh downturn of his lips. Quig hadn’t seen him like that before, his face always had a kind and accepting aura to it, and it returned quickly when he realized who was at the door, “Ah, Pebbles, come in,” and he moves to the side allowing the man to enter. He follows Wilbur up the stairs, the man returning to his chair at the feet of the bed, the planned victim of the kidnapping attempt sleeping soundly in one of Wilbur’s old sweaters and holding a pillow like a small child would hold a teddy bear. “So, what did you come here to discuss, my friend?” Wilbur asks, but it doesn’t have the usual air that his voice has, it’s not sweet like sugar, it’s dark like a bitter cocoa bean, and he has a bad feeling that Wilbur knows something. “I-I wanted to ask you if we needed any more supplies, I wasn’t planning to go to sleep so I might as well keep my hands busy, y’know?” He lies through his teeth and Wilbur raises one of his eyebrows at him.
“Hmm, if you could collect ten thousand stone, that would be lovely,” Wilbur smiles, and it’s not the usual calming and hearth-esque one that usually graces his face, it was ferocious, like Quig was pray and Wilbur was the predator, and it made his stomach flip in all sorts of bad ways. “You’re dismissed,” Wilbur waves off, and Quig goes to scurry away when the prophet’s voice causes him to pause, “And Pebbles, if you see anything about an insurgence against the Dome, report to me, I have a feeling there is a day of judgment and reckoning coming to the church.” Quig tries not to flinch, and he turns his head to look at Wilbur, and the man got impossibly scarier. The gun was still in his right hand but he had it titled like he was about to shoot outside the window, his brown eyes were inconceivably darker, a hidden predatory edge to them, and it’s like Quig was trapped, frozen in fear at a creature larger than himself, a bird of prey so large it’s beak would be able to swallow him whole. He can feel Wilbur’s understanding binding him to his spot on the floor, the man had already realized the revolution was coming, and he was ready.
Wilbur was prepared for the war to come to his doorstep, and Quig was terrified.
That’s why it started as a normal day, Smoke and Messiah working on the posters in the back of the church, the two brothers organizing the security cabinet at the front, and then fucking around with the guitar. The other members had “taken the day off” as Wilbur had told the others, when he knew the true reason; they weren’t already at the church, and he had been extra protective of his brother for the first few hours of the day, not letting his blond head out of his sight.
It’s when gunshots ring from the outside lake that Wilbur knew the whispers were true, and he ushered Tommy up the steeple and locked the door behind him. They watch as the ex-church members shoot out the walls of the church, engaging in a firefight with Smoke and Messiah, and the loud cackles of Kanye as he takes a minigun to the foundation of the steeple, shouting for the two brothers to come out, to face the insurrection of their church. Fort Kickass brings in a car, ramming it into the hall, and they take out Messiah, leaving him crushed underneath the large tire. They fire at Smoke, RPGs launching at the back wall and exploding the old poster painted by Milo, and releasing some of the contents from the security cabinet next to the door. They start to pound on it, as Wilbur slips onto his stomach, flipping the rifle off of his shoulder and onto the ground, setting up the stand. He aims towards Sophie, taking out her hand and shooting her in the chest, next moving towards Tubbo and Ranboo, the two hidden behind Kanye and throwing smoke bombs.
Hycei and Krinios are shouting up at them, Milo joining them as well, attempting to pick the electronic lock. They hear the shots coming from above, some of the gunfire ceasing from their side as three people are taken out: Tubbo, Ranboo, and Quig. Kanye just gets louder, shouting about Wilbur being a coward, and to come face them, but he is shot in the side, bullet cutting one of the spandex cords tying the man’s armored vest together. The complete and utter chaos continues for a few minutes until a loud piercing siren was released from Kanye, and they all knew what that meant: a helicopter was coming. There was a reason Fort Kickass consulted with Kanye for this massacre, the man had more knowledge of the helicopters than anyone else on the server. The others retreated from the destroyed temple of the church, stepping over the corpses of their fallen comrades and joining up at Kanye’s side.
The loud whirring of the helicopter’s blades gets closer and closer, and Wilbur thinks quickly of a plan of escape, “Toms, baby, can you help me secure this rope to the furthest spot from them, we’re making a run for it,” and the boy nods, scurrying to grab the rope and helping Wilbur tie it securely enough that they will be able to slip away unnoticed as the church gets destroyed.
Kanye hollers in excitement as the helicopter arrives at the lake, rounds now being shot into the building, too loud that they didn’t notice the sounds of splashing water on the other side of the church, the two brothers slipping into the trees, and running for their lives. Their house was on fire, they could tell from where they stood, the Dome was also alight; toxic fumes spreading to decay everything around it. That’s when they hear the loud shriek, “Wilbur, get your scrawny beanpole ass back here or I’ll find your brother and skin him in front of you!” Kanye sounded absolutely pissed, and they heard the water closest to them being walked in. Wilbur turns to his brother, “Tommy, run to the recycler, wait for me.” He orders, keeping his voice smooth, not trying to show the panic slowly building. “Wilbur, you can’t face them all alone!” Tommy whines, pulling on his arm, “Tommy. Go to the recycler, and-” he rips the necklace off his neck and hands it to the boy, the shine of the metal tags reflecting the growing red, “If I don’t make it back, I love you.”
Tears start to flow down Tommy’s face, “No, no, you’re not allowed to die on me like that, you have to try, please,” he begs, voice breaking. “I’ll do everything I can to get back to you, here,” he pulls the gun from his hip and holds it out to his brother, “You remember what I taught you, right?” The boy tears up, “Please, Wilbur, don’t do this,” he tries to push it back into Wilbur, “Tommy, just take the fucking gun.”
“I can’t- I can’t please-” He whines, “Tommy, just do it, I’ll see you soon.” The boy ushers the gun into his hand, “But-” The men get closer, “Just go Tommy! I’ll see you soon.”
“I’ll see you soon, Wilbur.”