Chapter Text
He doesn't think it has been long since.. since that he told Shadowblade about the fire. But still, it is always too long. He can't stand the quiet, he can’t stand the dark. He has been in this state for far too long. Every time Shadowblade hasn’t been in the same room as him; it was quiet, too empty. He is on bis own, only him with his thought. And in his honest opinion: that isn’t quite nice.
He hates the quiet, hates the silent. He hates it, he would kill for it to stop. To let him hear the birds, the birds in the trees, the soft chirping form one bird to another.
He would kill to see the moon again, he would do anything to come outside again, to be free, happy and save. He would murder someone for it. The only person keeping him away from those dreams is Shadowblade, and Wilbur knows that he can't kill him right now, because his dad is hurting- somewhere, and Wilbur can’t make that pain worse.
He stares in front of him, looking at the plain black wall. He tries to imagine the stars and moon in the sky, only to see- nothing. He doesn't remember what the stars look like, he doesn't even remember what the moon looks like.
It has been too long. There are no windows, nothing to indicate the time. He doesn't know how long he has been here, it feels like years that have passed, but he knows it couldn’t be more than 4- maybe 5 months.
The only thing that is good about this is that Wilbur is getting to understand his curse a bit better. He only now, when the villain told him to, notices the slight changes in his vision and hearing. But only when he is keeping his attention at the changes in them, not when he is busy doing something else.
There is a moment of silence, there is always silence around him, but this is different. His brain is quiet for a minute, only to go think about what happens not that long ago.
The villain is keeping his dad hostage, only to take him at front to force Wilbur to talk or he would hurt him. Gladly for Phil, Wilbur can’t stand his dad hurting, so he starts talking immediately.
Why would the villain want to know about the fire though? It couldn’t just be an obsession over Wilbur’s curse. It needs to be more than that, maybe a personal connection, that there was a house fire at his too? Maybe, it could be, that could be the reason Shadowblade is obsessing about the house fire. But that wouldn’t explain why he is obsessing about Wilbur’s curse.
But before Wilbur can think of it any further, the door slams open and the masked man walks in.
Wilbur has yet never seen the man without the mask, he had seen him without the hood over his hair, showing what his hair looks like. But further, Wilbur doesn’t know jack shit about what the villain looks like behind the skull mask.
“What are you doing here?” Wilbur asks, almost angry. He doesn’t know why he is angry, but he is. The villain wants him to remember about his childhood, the one he so desperately wanted to forget. Wilbur is allowed to be angry at that, and he knows it.
“What am I doin’ here?” the villain asks amused. “I was just goin’ to have a breve conversation with my favourite person.”
Wilbur huffs at that. “Favourite person,” Wilbur mocks in the villains accent back, Wilbur only now hears that the villain isn’t from here, he almost sounds American. Wilbur frowns at that, why would the villain be here when he doesn’t come from here?
“Oi, wha’ are you tolking abou’?” the man snaps back, in the most fake British accent Wilbur has ever heard- maybe that the whole universe has ever heard.
“Favourite person.. you can’t have many people in your live then, if your prisoner is your favourite person in the world,” Wilbur mumbles to himself, not yet quiet enough though, because the villain snorts at that.
“No, I don’t. Not many people fancy being friends with a supervillain.”
“I wouldn’t particularly say ‘supervillain’, I had never heard of the oh mighty Shadowblade, before you fucking took me from my home.”
“Sorry about that, the team and I didn’t have much time that day, I could have just taken you from the house that you saved that day, but..” he can almost hear the villain shaking those thoughts out his head, “No, I didn’t came here to pity about me taking you. We talked about the fire yesterday, and-“
“Wait, what? You want me to tell you even more details about my fucked up childhood then I- myself know about?”
“I.. No, I don’t. Let me talk,” the last bit, the villain snaps. Seemingly annoyed by Wilbur constantly interrupting him, so Wilbur keeps his mouth shut, he knows when he should be quiet. “I.. I wanted to talk with you about what went through your mind and why you didn’t make different decisions, instead of those you did made,” the villain mumbles.
“So.. if I understand correctly, you want me to tell you what that thirteen years old boy could have done differently, to presumably, save his brother and mom too?” Wilbur snaps.
“I.. Yes. Disc, I was going to discuss that with you. But, if you want, we could also just immediately start with the challenge I have for you. It’s up to you.”
Wilbur feels his heart sink in his chest, there is going to be another challenge..
His chest is burning, and he knows it is the place where the last branding was. There is going to be another challenge, and he knows he is going to fail this one too. The villain wants to talk about the fire, the challenge can’t be over nothing else then the fire. He will fail this because he knows this in going to be almost like a replica of the house fire.
If the challenge is about the house fire, and the villain wants to talk about what he could have done better. It could be that the challenge is about what he could have done better in the fire, although, that would be told to him if he is going to talk to the villain now-
“And?” the villain asks, interrupting the panic forming in his head.
He needs to choose, he needs to know the things that can help him in the fire.
“I.. the talk. Just, let me know what I needed to do differently.”
“Very good,” the villain says, Wilbur can almost hear them grin, “Let’s start. Follow me, Disc.”
When they enter the room, Wilbur can almost feel that this isn’t going to go in his direction. He can feel eyes on him, from all across the room.
“What are they doing here?” Wilbur ask, looking around, not even caring that he is blind and that he can’t see them.
“Who?”
“T-the people in the room, there are eyes on me, a lot of eyes,” Wilbur stumbles out, he never had such many eyes on him.
“There are no people here, Disc. Just.. let’s talk about the fire.”
“Okay.. yes, sure.” Wilbur knows there are people here, the villain is just lying to him. But he can play this game, he can do this, yes, he can do this.
“What do you think you could have done better?”
“I..” Wilbur doesn’t know, he was thirteen, he couldn’t have done things any better, maybe being older than fucking thirteen. Maybe saving his brother first or his mom or dad, he can think of many things he could have done differently, but nothing of those things would have been reasonable for a thirteen year old. “I don’t know, I was thirteen, it was impossible to do things differently.”
“You could have saved your brother.”
“Yes, I know! Shadowblade, I fucking know that I could have saved him. I could save mom, but I didn’t because I was a fucking child in a building that was going to kill me!”
“Discour..”
“What are you going to tell me now? Say that I could have done something to save him? He was my twin, Shadowblade, I am here because I couldn’t save him. I couldn’t do anything to save him, it was far too late for me to save him!”
“Disc, you are just saying that. You could have done a lot more than just survive on your own.” The words of the villain make Wilbur even angrier, why is he so calm about this? He shouldn’t be this calm, they’re talking about Wilbur’s dead brother, doesn’t he have feelings?!
“Tell me, Shadowblade, what could I have done differently? Yes, I could have woken him up. I don’t even know if he was awake when he was burned into ashes, I hope not, nobody should have to go through that. Tell-“
“Wilbur! You could have saved him! You could have let him survive, he could have lived and you could be save right now.”
“You don’t know what you are talking about,” Wilbur hisses.
“I do,” the villain says, his voice way to calm for this.
“Why do you even care! It’s not like you have lost half of your family!”
“Will..” it’s almost a plea, but Wilbur doesn’t care. He really doesn’t care about the villain anymore.
“No, you have nothing to do with this, you didn’t lose your family. That was me, remember? I lost my fucking mother and brother. I lost them, why do you care so much?!”
He hears the villain stand up.
“You can’t fucking take this?! Me screaming to you is too much and now you walk away from your problems?”
He hears the villain opening the door.
“Just, get ready for the next challenge. Calm down, I don’t fancy hurting your dad.”
Wilbur’s blood runs cold. Who the fuck is he that he can just threaten Wilbur with Phil’s life? He just let Wilbur remember about his fucking mother and brother dying and he wants to kill Phil?
Before he knows it, Wilbur is running the villains direction. He hears him gasp, Wilbur is almost there, but just before he can land a punch in the villains face, Shadowblade pulls the door close and Wilbur hits the wall. There is a crack and he falls to the ground. Shit, he broke his fucking hand. Lovely.