(TWs; passing mention/comparison to drugs; Wilbur being a damn simp[Really, both the protagonists are, but Wilbur is worse])

Time Loop.

Who was he really?

Sapnap had been trying to figure this out for a long time.

It was becoming unhealthy; how much he thought about the vigilante, how much he looked for his name, or really, any signs of him.

He was so odd. He was so... interesting. And Sapnap was very quickly becoming obsessed with finding him.

Or, at the very least, hearing his voice again. Soft, teasing, but also somewhat confident. Smooth, with a lilt of melody. Like a finely-tuned flute or silver whistle.

Sapnap didn't know what was wrong with him. Why he couldn't get this random vigilante out of his mind. 

Maybe it was the way he'd looked, bronze goggles shining as he himself seemed to glow, outlined by the opal moonlight.

Maybe it was how he hadn't run off screaming when Sapnap had moved onto the rooftop. Instead, he'd glanced over his shoulder and smiled, like he'd been waiting.

Maybe it was the way he talked, like he was carefully weaving his silver words, the stars, into the dark navy backdrop that was the world. Like he was shaping something of which he had a vision in his mind. Like he knew exactly how he wanted it to look and was afraid to mess up.

Perhaps it was how he acted, like he was friends with the world and owed no one anything, but still took no bullshit.

Or maybe Sapnap was just socially starved. He hadn't had a genuine conversation with anyone but Dream(Fucking Dream...) for... probably years. 

Whatever it was, Time Loop was entrancing. Like if a Siren's song came to life and wrapped itself around his head. Like a melody of bells or a chorus of angels all coming together. Like the time that passes you by when you're doing something you love with someone you love.

And Sapnap had hardly thought of anything else the entire month.

It had all started twenty-two days ago; when Sapnap was out. It was close to midnight, and the moon was full.

Sapnap moved to the next rooftop and scanned the area with his eyes, seeing nothing at first.

Then, a few roofs down and away, a figure stepped into the moonlight. Sapnap's eyes darted down to watch the figure, who looked illuminated by the silver moon. His breath caught and heart skipped, like he was both intruding on something private and exactly where he needed to be at the same time.

Deciding quickly to go and check it out, he moved over to the edge of the roof, dropping down and landing gently on the ground. The figure - who didn't look like just a civilian - was sitting on the edge of the rooftop, legs dangling off.

Sapnap felt his heart beat faster, half of his brain saying to leave; to not interrupt whatever this person was doing. The other half wanted him to go closer; to pull them away from the edge; to sit with them, anything but leave.

The figure turned their head and Sapnap froze, noticing the bronze rims of the winged goggles. They looked sort of cyberpunk, with elements that looked a lot older; like the slightly rusted under-eye segments, or the buckles that looked like they came from a hundred years ago.

He half expected them to scream, or jump off the roof, or at least be afraid, but instead, they managed a small, soft smile.

Somehow, that had an absolutely remarkable effect on his brain, sending his thoughts and best practices tumbling down a riptide of confusion.

He was sure he looked like an idiot, standing there, practically gaping. But attempting to scrape together coherent thoughts was like trying to gather all of the sand on a beach.

The vigilante - at least, Sapnap assumed he was one - turned back to the city and Sapnap was able to think again. He stepped closer, almost unconsciously.

"Hello?" He tried to say, but he couldn't seem to form the word on his lips. He closed his now dry mouth, pushing his luck and stepping the smallest bit closer. The pebbles on the rooftop crunched slightly under his feet and he flinched, freezing in place.

"Who are you?" He tried again, his voice coming out in a hoarse, wavering murmur. 

The figure turned his head, the lenses of the goggles gleaming slightly in the moon.Sapnap was scared to make eye contact, because he knew that if he did, he wouldn't be able to look away again.

But why was that? 

It was so weird; he hadn't felt... feelings... in literal years. Not like this, anyway.

It was like he was paralyzed, unable to move, yet somehow, for some reason, he was moving closer and sitting down and he was a foot away from the vigilante and-

Pull yourself together, Sapnap. Tighten the seams. Don't let anything slip through.

His face was contorted into some mix of confusion and fear, but as he watched the city and the lights and the shape of the skyline, most of the negative emotions slowly melted away. Time Loop was still there, a quiet but comforting presence.

The night went on and the stars shifted positions before Sapnap had worked up the courage to attempt speaking again. 

"Who are you?" He asked again, his voice considerably more steady - yet still just at hesitant. He heard the slight rustle of Time Loop's colorful hoodie as he shifted, his boots(Sapnap was just now realizing that they were made of metal) clunking against the concrete of the building.

"I'm no one," Time Loop responded. Sapnap's brain was instantly set into another frenzy. His voice; his goddamn voice, he had to be a Siren, there was no other explanation.

It was like he could feel the warmth of the voice as well as hear its melody; wrapping him up, burning in a way he was foreign to.

"You're someone," Sapnap responded, his voice a little firmer than he intended. Because he was... He was more than just a hero or vigilante or whatever he was. Sapnap knew this; he was more than just a villain. He used to be a hero. 

But... things changed. Mistakes were made. People were killed. And he couldn't go back.

"I don't know about that," Time loop hummed thoughtfully.

His voice was a damn drug. One hit, and Sapnap was addicted.

He couldn't go longer; he had to- Just ask something; make him answer, hear him.

"You know who I am, right?" He mumbled. In hindsight, that was a pretty stupid question. There likely wasn't a soul on their side of the ocean that didn't know his name.

Time Loop cocked his head gently. "I don't think so." 

Sapnap was taken aback. He was sure it showed on his face, because when he looked at the other man, he was hit with another one of those gentle smiles he was beginning to think he'd never get enough of.

"I know the villain," Time Loop explained. "But I don't know the person. Who are you really?"

Sapnap stopped. Who was he? Who was he really? Was he still the same person from before the revolt? He couldn't be... could he?

But he wasn't; he'd changed(not necessarily in a good way). He wasn't the same. He couldn't be.

They sat in silence for a few more minutes, and Sapnap's voice was husky when he finally spoke again. "I don't know. I can't tell anymore..."

Sapnap could practically sense Time Loop's little head tilt at his words, but he refused to look. Refused to be put in that damn trance again.

Then...

"I know that feeling," Was Time Loop's eventual response. Did he really? Wasn't Sapnap so different from him?

...He was different, right? Or was he just another poor, unfortunate soul in the riptide of life?

The rooftop fell into its comfortable silence again.

Some seconds or minutes or hours later - Sapnap couldn't tell; time felt like it passed differently with him - Time Loop took something out of his pocket, more shiny metal drawing Sapnap's eye.

It was a dangling bronze pocket watch, extravagant hands both pointed at the little '12' at the top of the clock.

Twelve o'clock. 

Time Loop stood, brushing gravel off of his pants. But- Where was he going-? He wasn't- leaving, was he? So soon? Sapnap had hours of time; why wouldn't he just stay-?

So he stood up as well, almost stumbling over himself to follow the other. "W-wait, where are you...?"

Time Loop looked back over his shoulder, managing another soft grin that held Sapnap entirely in place.

"My time here is up," He said softly, stuffing the pocket watch back into the bright pink hoodie pocket.

"Already??" Sapnap asked, his voice raising in pitch, a dead giveaway of the slight panic he was experiencing.

Get it together. People can't see you like this.

But Time Loop wasn't people; he was just... another nobody. Just like him. But then why couldn't they be nobody together?

It's enough, it's enough, it's enough...

But it never was. His friend was gone. He almost wished he was dead. But this night; this was one worth living. If he was gone before he'd been able to meet Time Loop... Gods. Unimaginable.

Would he even know what he was missing? Who filled the gap? You never know what you're missing until you actually got it.

His eyes shot back up from the ground as Time Loop waved gently. He stood, dumbfounded, almost unable to move as Time Loop stepped backwards onto the next roof and then turned, taking a casual but direct route diagonally away.

Then, like a shadow in the night, disappearing out of view. That goddamn building. Blocking his last view. 

I never even got to touch him.

He was going to blow something up.

I never felt him.

Preferably, that damned building.

~•~•~•~

"I don't know what his deal is," Techno grumbled over his cup of tea. "He was just... sitting there. Waiting. I don't get it."

"Me either," Wilbur grumbled. "He blows up a building and then does literally nothing for a month??"

"You don't get it," Techno snapped, grumpy after not having gotten his daily sixteen shots of espresso or whatever. "He didn't do anything. He was genuinely just... waiting. And he looked goddamn sad again. But I'm not going to feel bad for trying to arrest him; especially after he blew up the damn MLG Tower!"

"What does MLG even stand for?" Wilbur hummed thoughtfully. This did not appear to diffuse the tension as Techno groaned, stood, and walked off towards the hallway.

A few seconds later, Tommy's head peeked out from around the corner. Wilbur smiles and gestured for him to come over.

Tommy did, sitting down across from him in the now-vacant seat. His gray wings fluttered slightly.

Wilbur never saw him shed feathers. But he assumed this was normal, because his wings didn't look like they'd need to.

"Hey," He said, standing and moving towards the kitchen. "Want some hot chocolate?"

"Sure," Tommy shrugged with a yawn. It was around ten, which was when Tommy got to bed(About). He slept for so. Damn. Long. Like he was hibernating every night just to catch up on sleep.

Like, a lot of sleep. He slept from around ten or eleven to nine or ten in the morning. Birdchild got at least 10 hours in every night.

...

Okay, maybe some of that was from Wilbur using his voice, but could you really blame him?? The kid looked so sleep deprived it was starting to worry him intensely.

He was getting better, though, Wilbur thought, as he put the pot of milk on the stove.

People who make hot chocolate in a microwave should be put on a list. Specifically a watch list. 

After setting the heat somewhat low, he headed back over to the table. Tommy already had his head resting on his arms.

Wilbur stood next to him, debating on whether to do the thing...

Ah, fuck it, we ball.

He reached out, gently placing his hand on one of Tommy's wings.

Tommy jumped, hissing gently and flicking his wings out of reach... But not before Wilbur felt the texture. It was flaky, like... cheap paint or peeling wallpaper.

What the fuck??

That couldn't be healthy. He had to talk to Phil. Phil would know what to do; he had wings, he would know if Tommy needed help, what the hell-

Tommy scrambled out of his seat, feathers fluffing up as he tried to get away from Wilbur who made a noise of weak protest and gripped the chair.

"What is that?" he demanded. "Are you alright? Are you sick? Is it us?? Are we feeding you the wrong stuff?? Are you healthy?"

"It's nothing!" Tommy yelped. "That's the- the natural texture of my wings! Just sensitive!" He backed up more and Wilbur decided Hey, that's enough scaring the precious child, lay off.

So he put his hands up in surrender. "I believe you," He lied smoothly. Tommy gave him a suspicious glance but didn't fight back.

"I'm going to bed..." He muttered, stalking off to Wilbur's room.

During the month or so that Tommy had stayed, he slept in Wilbur's room; in his bed with him. Wilbur's theory was that since his apartment was small as hell and he had two roommates, he was used to sleeping close to people. 

But Wilbur's bed was pretty big and he didn't mind being close to the golden-haired boy, so it wasn't a problem at all.

Sighing, he leaned back in his chair slightly. He'd probably go on patrol this evening...

Then, his eyes flickered over to the stove.

The milk in the pot had bubbled over and entirely spread over the stove top.

"Sssssshit."

~•~•~•~

Half an hour later, Somnus was on the rooftops of Lumenaria. His eyes watched through the thin fabric of his 'mask'(What was he supposed o refer to his sash as?)

The milk had been a bitch to clean up and Wilbur was pretty sure his favorite sweatpants were going to smell of dairy for all eternity, but that didn't matter right now! Even if the stove had milk seeped into all of its inner workings!

Right now, he was a super-cool hero(Who maybe, quite possibly kept getting knocked out by odd objects)!

And he was a super-cool hero on the lookout for somebody. Somebody in particular.

Gambit.

Wilbur had, by now, acknowledged the obvious: He was definitely crushing. Which was a bad thing; terrible even. But not acknowledging it would make it worse. 

And of course he knew about his own feelings; he may be dumb, but he's not a total idiot!

So what the hell? Why not embrace it? Get some close-combat in; stalk(Read: WATCH) creepily, really just have the avian in his sights.

Wilbur was starting to consider the possibility that this was more than some little crush, but that was one of the things he absolutely refused to acknowledge.

He landed gently on the next rooftop, practicing his drop-landings(As he was calling them). Basically, he dropped while levitating and tried to land fancy. Simple.

Weird stuff had been going on, though. Of course there was Sapnap and the MLG tower, but then there was also the bench trio. They were off. Mostly because they weren't a trio anymore. 

Icarus had... disappeared. He was gone.

...

Sort of like Inferno.

Wait a minute.

What was going on? Was someone kidnapping vigilantes? Was this buildup to some large-scale event? Because it seemed too weird to be a coincidence.

Wilbur shook off the weird feeling it gave him.

But if they were taking members of trios, who was next? Could HE be next?? was he a target? Was he walking into a trap? Would they take Techno; or Phil? What was he going to do? Where would Tommy be if he was gone?

Walls seemed to form around him. He felt himself sinking to his knees; darkness surrounding him. His head spun. His lungs ached. And it felt like every possible bad scenario was creeping up behind him.

Where was he?

What was going on?

He couldn't see anything.

Was he... alive?

He vaguely felt the texture of the rooftop against his cheek, but it was like he was far away from his body. Like he was feeling someone else's experience. He couldn't open his eyes. But a sharp voice cut through the haze.

"Alright. Release him now. I'll take care of this."

But, of course, Wilbur could only hear bits and pieces. "Alright- Release h- Take care-"

Slowly, gently, the walls of darkness slipped away. His trench coat's collar was grabbed and he was forced to his knees. Opening his eyes felt like an absolute chore and his eyelids fluttered as his head remained dizzy.

The voice came again, clearer this time.

"What the hell's wrong with him?"

"His mind's probably weaker... More easily affected, I'd assume."

"Ugh. Just what I needed tonight."

The familiar voice sliced through the fogginess of his mind and he forced his eyes open; just to get a glimpse-

"Gambit," He rasped slightly, voice weak yet undeniably amused.

The hazel eyes stared back at him through the white and black mask, Gambit's gaze a bit sharper than he would have preferred. Oh well.

A figure stood behind the winged vigilante, tall and intimidating. Daedalus. A bit of sweat lined his brow, like he had been exerting himself.

Wilbur dismissed him instantly, eyes falling back onto Gambit. He was sure Slimeball and Plasma were around but the only figure his mind cared about was the one right in front of him, gripping his collar.

He couldn't help the instinctive smirk that crawled onto his face, and he also couldn't help wondering if his hair looked good. 

"So, to what to I owe the pleasure of being here?" He asked almost smugly. He didn't even have to do any finding! All the finding was done for him!

"This shouldn't be a pleasure," Gambit snapped harshly. Even his sharpest voice made Wilbur swoon just a little bit on the inside.

"I'm certainly enjoying myself," Wilbur chuckled, glancing around. "Nice rooftop ya got here."

"I'm gonna kill you, hero-" Gambit seethed, grip tightening.

Wilbur reached a hand up, tapping Gambit's lips with his finger gently. The small contact sent a thrill through him. "Up, bup, bup, I have a name." He chuckled quietly to himself. This was going better than anticipated.

Gambit was thrown off slightly by the gesture but recovered somewhat quickly. 

"Fine. I'm going to kill you, Somnus." He said, putting stress on the name and giving Wilbur an aggrieved look.

Wilbur couldn't deny the shiver that went down his spine as his name(Even if it was just his hero name) was spoken on Gambit's lips.

"That's better," He acknowledged, planting one foot on the ground and standing. Had he not kept his back somewhat bent, he would have entirely dwarfed Gambit, but he didn't exactly feel like leaving his grip so quickly.

Gambit rolled his eyes again. "Shut up."

Wilbur's eyes gleamed, and he stood up slightly straighter to make the vigilante look up at him. "Why don't you make me?"

Then, before Gambit could respond, he started humming. A hum wasn't as powerful as a song, but with how... close... they were, it would do the job. Gambit's face tensed and he shoved Wilbur away, stepping back.

"Now," Wilbur said pleasantly. "This has been quite fun, but I'm going to take my leave."

He stepped back, reaching the edge of the building. Plasma scoffed.

"Oh, please, 50% of us can follow you," He said dryly, glancing up from his phone screen.

"That may be, Plasma, but how do you feel about falling asleep midair?" Wilbur asked, a glint in his eyes.

The vigilante bit the inside of his cheek, scoffed, crossed his arms, and went back to looking at his phone.

Wilbur smirked, took another moment to look over Gambit and his damn fine arse in that suit, and stepped off the building.

He free-fell before catching himself and levitating towards another farther-away rooftop. His levitation wasn't the best; definitely not as good as Plasma's, but passable at least. Upon stepping onto the rooftop, he made a beeline for the route home.

"That certainly was productive," He mused with another smirk, fingers tingling slightly.

Words: 3,274

I'm sorry it's late! But it's extra long! To make up for it! Please forgive me!

:)

Anyway...

Enjoy the next 24 hours!

-ITCFWI