Where had the climax been? The tipping point in their story? The red haired, previously cursed, man wondered if the setting sun was enough as a sign that his journey was over. But with the rambling blond circling him and the creeping idea of how he was supposed to describe such a story to his family... Wilbur specifically, he wondered if he was just a little crazy.

"Fundy, you're missing!" Tommy exclaimed, his voice weakening to just a breath. Relief was what Fundy assumed he was feeling. The blond kicked up the dirt in front of him and brought out an old wooden sword. He turned and waved it around, supposedly, threatening like. If you're another one of that witch's tricks then I'll kill you!" He shouted with his weapon raised. "C'mon fight me, bitch!"

Fundy slumped his shoulders looking down the path at where his own blond mystery had escaped to. The sudden weight in his chest felt wrong. His mind felt light though, and his lips buzzed from the slightest touch of warmth. Did Dream do that to him? Did that green bastard really just kiss him and leave? Oh the crave to fall into a dumb stupor and not wake up until Dream came back to him. If he wanted to come back, of course.

But that realization had only hit Fundy then. Weeks and weeks he spent trudging around on four paws, a broken leg as well, and Dream had worked so hard to make sure Fundy came back home safely. Dream was a nice guy. He promised over and over again that he would bring Fundy home and...

Fundy shifted his stare to Tommy who was crouched in a defensive position. The teen's eyes looked him down expectantly, like he was ready to jump out or attack.

What a way to start a reunion.

He could always just go back into his house. Tidy things up inside until it grew darker and then he could finally have a night's rest in his own bed... by himself. Huh. But, no, instead he stood tall in front of his younger uncle, watching the teen hype himself up in preparation for a duel. Fundy unsheathed his sword and handed it to Tommy.

"Not in the mood to fight right now," he said, watching the blue eyes widen at the sight of the weapon.

Tommy grabbed it and stared at Fundy. A feeling of disbelief rather than relief. "Dream found you. You're not a trick." He stated, though it sounded more like a question. Fundy nodded. "Oh my gods," Tommy quieted down, a scene that not many were used to, but suddenly his face contorted into a look of disgust. "Oh did you really just kiss Dream? Fundy, what— why?! Why him?"

And he found himself looking down at that path again. "Did I?" He questioned before nodding with a stupid smile. "Oh, yeah, I definitely did." Stupid he was, for him.

"Yeah, I just fucking saw it."

"Wow..." Fundy hummed.

Tommy stared at him questioningly. Looking Fundy up and down from worn down boots to his messy red hair. "Oh no," he said, shaking his head in denial, "the witch broke you!"

***

Retreating wouldn't be the word Dream would describe himself as doing at the moment. No, he was simply just creating distance between him and Fundy as quickly as possible. His horse running beside him, oh curse any god who'd listen. He was a runner. Desperate to assess his thoughts and figure out what his opinion was before he made any bold decisions... He had already made a bold decision. He slowed, thinking carefully. Fundy had leaned up to kiss him, hadn't he? He had met him halfway in that action.

He let out a huff and stomped his foot hard on the ground. Frustration. He wasn't sure. His horse neighed beside him and he went up to stroke his mane. He decided to just focus on getting back to his place before it got dark.

Dream wasn't always as fearless in the forest than when he was accompanied with someone. The more alone he was, the longer the shadows followed him. The tug on the lead pushed him forward, for now.

He seemed to be on a familiar path so he didn't question the lingering and out of place feeling until he veered off the main path and led his horse to the place where memory served him most. Though he hasn't stepped foot near that area in years, his nightmares happen to keep him familiar with the area. He peered into the opening. A small cottage held up by stilts, exactly what he was expecting.

No.

Dream shifted the mask up and turned around, leading his horse back down to the main path. He set forward with the only goal to head back home, safely, with a hand hovering over his scabbard.

***

"So how's Wilbur?" Fundy asked as he was dragged through the village. Tommy led him down the old cobblestones roads towards Phil's farm. Everyone was likely there since Tommy was so persistent for him to not stay back at his own house.

Tommy shrugged as his shoes scuffed against the stone, Fundy knew better than to question why he dragged his feet. "Wilbur? He's fine I guess," the blond muttered. Perhaps it was an off day for both of them.

"Tommy?" Fundy questioned.

He shrugged and skipped a few paces over the stone. "He's just a bit of a bitch at times but you know how it is."

Fundy nodded, he knew how it was. "And Phil?" He asked.

"He's Phil."

"And Techno?" Fundy mentioned, though he didn't need to. He'd seen Technoblade not too long ago when he assisted Dream in retrieving the phantom membranes. "Traveling I'm guessing."

"You got that right," Tommy mumbled, "he and Phil got into some petty argument or something and he left."

Fundy hesitated the next few steps, honestly shocked by the fact. There's one thing that has changed since he's been gone. But that was out of character for Technoblade, not leaving without a word, but having an argument with Phil... "And he just left?"

"Yeah, hasn't stopped by in over a week. Phil's worried, but c'mon, it's Techno we're talking about."

They stopped walking, stood in front of the door. A small part of Fundy just wanted to go back to his place and sleep, to finally feel like he's home again. Tommy swung open the door, letting Fundy inside, and ran straight upstairs without another word.

Fundy lingered in the front hall before slipping off his boots and hanging up his cloak onto the rack. He proceeded forward into the living room to see just the usual display of empty mugs and half opened books on the center table. He moved through and into the kitchen.

There was Wilbur, his curly haired head buried deep into his arms with his glasses set aside onto an assortment of papers which contained mostly scribbles. It was a pitiful sight for Fundy. He felt the urge to wake him up and move him to the couch or his bed, but something caught his attention before he could dwell more.

His name, written multiple times, on paper of course. The sheets covered the kitchen table like an unusual table cloth. He even wondered if that table was even capable of fulfilling its purpose with the mess that plagued it. Fundy read a few lines of script to know what it was about. Creepy, but oddly sweet to know Wilbur was adamant about finding him, even to the point where he's passed out at the table.

He moved everything to a stack, not worrying too much about messing up Wilbur's organization and order, it's purpose was lost at this point. He then kneeled beside his adoptive father and nudged him softly.

"What," Came a drowsy mumble from Wilbur.

Fundy felt light at the familiarity. "Wilbur, you need to move to a bed," he said soothingly as nudged him again.

The brunet lifted his head and squinted at him with tired eyes. Fundy took the liberty of handing him his glasses, which caused Wilbur's eyes to finally focus on who was in front of him. He was silent a moment or two before pulling Fundy closer to him. Hugs weren't common between the two, but both accepted that this was a good excuse for one.

"Gods, Fundy," he whispered, looking at him, too afraid to look away. "You're alive." There was a smile on his face that grew from ear to ear, the way his eyes squinted and his glasses raised from the scrunch of his nose, Fundy wondered if he'd even seen Wilbur with this amount of pure joy in him.

Then, like a snap, Wilbur's bright eyes turned dark. "Oh my boy, are you alright? Are you hurt? Tell me what happened. Do I need to send out the whole village with pitchforks and torches?" He rushed, patting down and inspecting almost every inch of Fundy.

"Wilbur," Fundy hesitated, "I'm fine. It's a bit of a long story..."

"I can listen. Fundy, I'll listen all night long if I have to," Wilbur said. He pulled Fundy down into a chair, somehow finding himself on top of more pieces of paper. "Ignore that," he said, mentioning the parchment.

Fundy wondered to his conclusions, are these parallels to Dream and Schlatt?

Wilbur plopped himself back down beside him and rubbed his hands carefully. "Now, Phil never taught me this in my parenting courses. Do I send you to your room? Do I make tea and let you rest? You're awfully quiet. Are you in shock right now? I can run over to the medic— no, I'll just yell for them I'm not leaving you..."

"Wilbur, I think you're in a more severe state of shock than I am," Fundy laughed awkwardly. The taste of the meeting had quietly turned a bit tart.

Wilbur let out a long breath before brushing a hand through his hair. "Gods, I can't believe you're actually here," he said letting out a small chuckle. He shook his head as he watched him. "Fundy, no one ever comes back from the forest."

Fundy bit his tongue and looked down at his lap. "Well clearly." He waved a hand in front of him, hoping to release the thick air.

They sat quietly in the kitchen. Tommy was upstairs, Phil was out, likely at the market, and Wilbur was across from him. Though, a long while had passed as Fundy was now gripping the warm sides of a cup of tea in his hands. Wilbur had hardly moved from his seat. Were conversations between them always this... awkward?

"Wil, stop it," Fundy said, finally creeped out enough from Wilbur's stare to call him out. "You're being weird."

Wilbur, however, disregarded that and started on. "Now, I feel like I should ask."

He shifted in his seat and removed his glasses, rubbed his eyes in the motion. "Fundy, what happened? Did the witch hurt you?" He asked.

"Yeah," Fundy said plainly. "The witch broke my leg and then turned me into a fox."

Wilbur tilted his head, narrowing his eyes in confusion. "Oh, uh, maybe a concussion? Those suckers are not things to take lightly," he laughed. "Fundy, your leg isn't broken and you're not a fox, hate to break it to you."

"Well, clearly not anymore..." Fundy replied, leaning his chin on his hand.

"He's a furry," an outside voice cut in. Fundy looked up as Wilbur turned to look at the teen sitting by the stairs.

"Tommy, not the time," he scolded quietly.

"Tommy not the time," the teen mimicked. He strapped on his shoes and sent a mock salute before shutting the door on his way out.

"Where's he going?" Fundy asked.

Wilbur looked back at him, shrugging. "I don't care enough to ask." He brushed it past them. "Okay, uh, so you got turned into a fox?"

"Uh," Fundy took a moment to think before looking back confused at Wilbur. "You don't care about where Tommy is going?" He questioned. Wilbur shook his head. "Why not? He's a kid and it's getting dark out, do you know how much trouble he could get into?"

"Fundy, he's more than fine. He's lived in the wild for years before us, he can take care of himself."

He scoffed. Nothing added up. "Wilbur, you're a smart man, father, and brother. You care about your family so much to the point that you made me escort Tommy in the forest."

"That decision led to you being missing for nearly two damn months!"

"If I wasn't there, Tommy could be dead by now! You made the responsible decision and..." Fundy took a deep breath. "Sorry, this has been a long day. I'm heading back to my place."

Wilbur looked up at him blankly. "Are you serious?" He asked in disbelief. "Fundy, y-you can't leave, you just got here."

Fundy was already walking down the hall to his boots and cloak, slipping each article on as fast as he could. "I'm going to try and catch up with Tommy," he said. "It was nice seeing you again, I'll visit soon so we can properly catch up."

Fundy stopped at the door, watching for any twitch in Wilbur's eyes. Oh he wished he could see that joyful expression again. His father reached out and the two stood still, he pulled the cloak right over Fundy's shoulders, offering a small smile. "I missed you, son. Be careful, alright?"

Fundy nodded and left a silent, "bye, dad."

ANNOUNCEMENT!
this work is a part of a series. so far the only posted works are this one and a georgebur side story (ONLY ON AO3). there will be a technoblade centric fic coming soon along with a prequel that explores family dynamics, also a sequel that is more focused on tommy and tubbo. if it seems that I am leaving multiple topics or subjects in this open ended, that is intentional. I've been planning this along with the sequel since october.
I want everything to connect in the end to the point it's just satisfying, but I also want to be able to make it so you don't have to read one work to understand the others.
I'd say one or two parts after this one are left.

should I post the rest of the series on wattpad?