Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Fundy continued down the bridge. Balancing on the rail above the massive cavern. Talking to the man that created him, but he wasn’t his father. Wilbur Soot wasn’t his father. He was close, he almost was, but he had given that up to press a button, in a small stone room with writing covering the walls.

He had given up on Fundy.

Which he could say was that surprising, but it hurt.

So Fundy stopped talking to Wilbur. Ghostbur wasn’t his dad, but he wasn’t Wilbur either. Ghostbur was tolerable, but he still hurt too. He hated it when that ghost offered to help him out, grabbing his arm or shoulder when he was doing something. It made his fur raise.

He got a job at Las Nevadas, both so he could constantly drown himself in alcohol and drugs like father, like son. But also because Quackity was more of a parental figure than Wilbur ever was. Especially during the time that Wilbur put more energy into going insane in a cavern underground than his own son. But then again, who could say they were surprised by that?

Wilbur was rambling, a smile on his face. He smelled like smoke, alcohol, dust, dirt, mold, and some super cheap cologne that Fundy knew was at least fourteen years old, if not older than he was. He probably doused himself in it to cover the other scents, but it just made them all stronger, and made him a scent bomb.

He had been taking Fundy around, trying to be a father to his son again. But Fundy knew he wouldn’t stick to it. They’d have one good day, then the next Wilbur would be asking him for money, or to fight in his wars again.

“Hey Wil- Dad?” Fundy asked, hesitantly calling him dad like Wilbur had been insisting he do all day.

Wilbur turned to face his son, his mouth not fully closing because he wasn’t fully done with his rant. “Yes son?” He asked, an almost annoyed look in his eye. But a light smile on his face. Fundy hated that he could never truly read what he was thinking. To know if he was mad, or happy. Sad or jealous. He wanted to know, so he knew how Wilbur felt about him. How Wilbur felt when he had to ask for something as a kid to avoid being screamed at for asking about when they might be getting dinner.

“Goodbye Wilbur.” Fundy said, a smile on his face as he fell backwards.

Wilbur’s eyes went wide as he jumped to grab his son, but it didn’t work. Fundy was too quick to fall down. Already being a quarter of the way down the pit by the time Wilbur even looked over the edge.

Fundy knew he wanted to die. He had known that since he was six years old, talking to his uncle Techno about his job. About what happened after somebody died. They’d either appear as a ghost, and go to purgatory. Or they would go to the afterlife, with Mumza. The goddess of death, and his grandmother.

He wasn’t planning to die. He didn’t really have a reason to live, but he just didn’t ever pull the trigger. He never put an arrow through his heart. Poison down his throat. A blade along his veins. His body free falling in the ravine he lost his childhood too.

He hit the bottom, and coughed out blood. Hitting the floor with a crack. Before everything went black.

Fundy woke up, on a train. Which he wasn't that surprised about. He had heard Wilbur mention something about trains when he died. Something about a train station, something about an infinite amount of trains? He didn’t care to put that much attention on the man who never cared.

But this one had a small video playing, and it said ‘Arriving Quesadilla Island’ so he didn’t question it all that much if he was being honest. He couldn’t think of Wilbur mentioning anything about islands or quesadillas.

Fundy sat down in one of the chairs, feeling his body send stabs of pain through his muscles as his body started to work again.

He pulled his sleeve up, revealing his arms. He had a mostly human body. His hair was orange, and it had a more fur-like texture. But he still only had a tail and ears fully covered in the orange hairs. So he could see his skin, and he could see just how bruised, bloody, and destroyed it was.

The back of his arm was a rainbow of colors. Purple, red, green, any color that his skin could be, it was.

He couldn’t see his back, but suddenly, with how sore it felt, he didn’t want to. He couldn’t remember what death was like, if he even had been somewhere in between when it went black and now. He wasn’t really sure.

The train started to slow, and he was confused. He didn't expect it to, Wilbur hadn’t mentioned the train ever stopping.

He looked out of the window across from him. The window that had been black. Was now showing a beautiful view of what Fundy assumed was an ocean. He ran to it, ignoring the pain his body was in. How his veins pulsed with pain as blood flowed through them once again. As the bruises went through his skin into his bones.

Then, he saw land. There was a wall around the land. He couldnt see people yet, but he saw land.

The train stopped, the door opened, and he stepped out.

Feeling the sun on his skin, and breathing fresh air again, he felt a small needle prick in his lungs. Filling them up with fresh oxygen he wasn’t sure how long he had gone without. Looking around, he couldn’t see anybody though. But that was fine he supposed.

He dug through all of his pockets searching for something that he recognized. But they were completely empty. Not even lint, dirt, sand, anything.

He made sure his black jacket was buttoned at least once in the front, and that his sleeves were all the way down. His hat was securely on his head. And that his hair covered the back of his neck. That his ears and tail were covered and hidden as well.

He didn’t know who was here, he didn’t know if people were here. He didn’t know if they were the type to be unwelcoming to hybrids. He didn’t know if people would purposefully poke at his bruises because they wanted to see the pain twirl in his eyes, and his teeth grind as he held back a whimper. BEcause the place he was from, he’d have to do that practically daily.

He walked through the twirling paths, before he was an egg with legs, and..glasses? Why did an egg without eyes need glasses? He didn’t know. But it came running up to him. Fundy walked to the side, to get out of its way. But it still headed straight for him. A brown haired man chasing after it.

“Stop! Juana Flippa!!” The man called, tripping and falling straight on his face.

Fundy winced, knowing it was a hard fall because it was mostly a dirt path. The egg stopped at his feet, looking up at Fundy expectantly. “What?” he asked, a slight bite to his tone he didn’t mean to use. But in a world where you can’t trust anybody, he couldn’t even trust an egg.

The egg backed up slightly, and used its hands to make some sign language that Fundy definitely wouldn’t understand right now.

“Sorry! Sorry!!” the main with brown hair, and the same glasses that the egg had, shouted. Having gotten up and stood only a few feet behind the egg. “This is my daughter Juana Flippa.” he said, slightly out of breath and a scuff mark on his cheek.

Fundy examined the man closely before realizing he recognized the man. He had slime in his hair, and his clothes. He honestly didn’t look that similar. Being completely slime in a perfectly tailored suit, made him look different from this supposedly human version.

“You have a daughter?!” fundy blurted out right after his realization. He was pretty sure that Slime didn’t lay eggs? Or was he crazy? He didn’t know anymore. How was Charlie human anyway? God there's so much he didn’t understand right now.

“Yeah? How’s that surprising?” Charlie asked, pulling his daughter almost defensively closer. Was this server used to death? Or was it a hint from wherever Fundy was from? He wanted to know, he hated not knowing. Because when he didn’t know, things could go badly, end badly.

“N-Nothing. No reason.” Fundy shrugged it off, avoiding eye contact from Charlie and Juana Flippa.

Charlie shrugged, brushing the interaction off, “Well anyway, I’m Charlie! This is my daughter. You are?” He said, offering out his hand to shake.

“Oh, I’m..Fundy.” He said, slightly mumbled. Did Charlie not recognize him? He didn’t know. Fundy took the man’s hand, gripping it tightly to see if he was actually slime. But all he was met with was human skin.

A flash of something went through Charlie’s eyes. Like he knew who Fundy was, knew why he was here suddenly, how he was here.

And then it went away, and Charlie put on a smile, like you would when meeting somebody for the first time. “Well nice to meet you! I didn’t know we’d be having a new person today!”

Fundy nodded awkwardly, taking his hand back into his pocket. He had nothing to his name, and didn’t know what he was even doing here. “Yeah- I-I didn’t even know I was coming today.” He awkwardly spat out, not sure what exactly to say. He knew Charlie, he knew his server. He didn’t know this Charlie. He didn’t know this server. And that was terrifying.

“Oh! That’s cool. Wanna come meet everybody then?” Charlie asked, a smile on his face.

“S-Sure..?” Fundy mumbled, unsure of what to say. Of what to do. What the rules are. What the norms are. He knew war, he knew violence, he knew death and destruction. He knew how to run for president, and how to avoid a murder, and a tyrant. He didnt know how to talk to people casually, he didn’t know how to take care of a child. He didn’t know. And he hated it.

“Cool! Follow me!” Charlie said, waving Fundy to follow him. So he did, hesitantly. He knew a version of Charlie, therefore this version of Charlie was the most familiar thing to him.

They walked along the dirt path for a moment, not saying much to each other besides Charlie announcing what each thing was.

“Quackity!” The man suddenly shouted, very loudly, waving at a man in the distance who turned his head.

Fundy knew Quackity. He worked for the man. He had seen him cry at the bar in the dead of night, he had seen him nearly kill somebody over a game of poker. He had seen a lot. Late nights, early mornings, at the bar, at the poker tables, working, building, drinking.

This was not Quackity.

Chapter Text

This person came running up. He was wearing no shirt, and no pants. A heavy Mexican accent came through as he spoke. He was wearing just black boxers, and a smile on his face. The only thing on him that fundy recognized was his hair. It was the same length, shoulder length and fluffy. Otherwise, the put-together, cold, fierce, strong, father-figure fundy knew was completely gone.

As he got closer, Fundy could make out the most faint scar on his face, that wasn't visible unless you knew it was there. “Heyyyyy!! My man!! What are you doing here Slime?”

Charlie responded back with the same energy, “I have a new member!” he said, presenting Fundy like he was a trophy. And he fucking hated it.

“I’m Fundy.” he bit at Charlie. Uncomfortable, scared, and lost.

Charlie winced back slightly, pulling Juana Flippa back again like he did earlier. Quackity looked Fundy up and down before glaring at him, but he could tell that it wasn’t one of Quackity’s scrutinizing glares, he was doing it mostly as a test to see if he’d flinch, and he didn’t.

“Wellll!!!” Quackity drew, and dropped the thick accent as he spoke again, “Make yourself welcome, I’m Quackity!” he said, suddenly sounding more professional despite the current state he was in.

“Who else is here?” Fundy asked, realizing that if Quackity, and Charlie were here, who else would be? Eret? Niki? Jack? People he knew, and people that knew him.

“Uhhhh, theres Roier, Jaiden, Dan, Mariana…” Quackity listed, none of which Fundy recognized.

“Oh! There's Missa and Foolish!” Charlie cut in, also clearly trying to remember everybody.

Fundy’s ear twitched at the mention of Foolish, he wasn’t close with the guy, but he knew him. He was familiar. He was something.

“There’s Bad too!” Quackity said, lighting up slightly.

Fundy couldn’t say he was very close with Bad either, especially after he joined that egg cult-thing that rubbed Fundy the wrong way the one time he asked about it. But maybe he’d at least know who Fundy was? Instead of him being a new face.

“Then there's Phil and Wilbur!” Charlie said, like he had just remembered something important.

They were not important. But the name Wilbur Soot made Fundy’s fur stick up, and made him freeze. Wilbur Soot was a figure in history, he did things in history. That was the only reason his name should ever be brought up. That he was a villain, a mad man who hurt innocent people.

“Fundy? You okay?” Quackity suddenly asked, poking at the fox hybrid.

“Where are they?” Fundy asked, a serious tone filling his voice. He really should've known better, to keep the anger out of his voice so it couldn’t be misinterpreted. He usually did, he knew how to make people feel almost relaxed in his presence, like they forgot just how much he knew. But when it came to that man..his supposed father. He couldn’t handle mixing his voice with honey.

“Oh! Well Wilbur’s been gone for a while now I think. But his dad is up on the wall.” Charlie said enthusiastically.

“Yeah, Phil took my daughter too.” Quackity said with a pout.

“Your daughter?” Fundy asked quickly, since when did Quackity have a daughter? Who did he have a daughter with? Fundy was pretty sure the guy hadn’t had a relationship since his fiance’s. So how did he get a daughter? Was he replacing Fundy.

“Yeah! Tallulah! Me and Wilbur’s daughter.” Quackity said, proudly.

“You still don’t know that!” Charlie reprimanded, but it fell on deaf ears.

Me and Wilbur. Wilbur. Quackity had a daughter with Wilbur?! He thought Quackity was better. He thought he could trust Quackity. He thought Quackity was safe. “You had a child with Wilbur fucking Soot!?” Fundy suddenly bursted, not being able to hold back his anger at Quackity. How dare he betray Fundy after everything he knew, everything he’d seen. After everything Fundy had told him!

“Whoa! Excuse me?!” Quakcity shouted, puffing up his chest.

“You had a child with that piece of shit?!” Fundy shouted, his fur puffing up to protect him, making himself scarier. Throwing his hands around to try and scare off the older man. All things he had learned from years of war, and violence. Watching every member of his family get hurt one by one.

“Who do you think you are?!” Quackity huffed, crossing his arms, “You his ex or something?!”

“FUCK NO! I’d pray for whoever was though.” Fundy growled back.

“Guys, please.” Charlie tried to calm them down standing between them as he pushed his egg farther away.

“What do you know then!?” Quackity asked, pushing around Charlie.

Fundy growled, he hated shouting, he hated yelling, he hated anger, he hated violence. But his fists curled up, and his fangs grinded together as he flashed them at Quackity. Inside this hurt. He didn’t want to yell at his dad. He didn’t want to hurt his dad. But at the same time, Quackity, or atleast, this Quackity, liked Wilbur. Was taking Wilbur over everything else. The man that had ruined his life, took away his childhood. The man who he had just killed himself in front of not an hour ago.

“I know that hes the man that fucking sent me to war when I was barely a fucking child!” Fundy shouted, tears staining his eyes, shouting so loud he swore it was bouncing off the walls around them.

“What fucking war!?” Quackity asked, Charlie was still trying to cut in but he couldn't get them to focus on him.

“The war for L’manburg’s independence?!” Fundy asked, confused and angry. He fought for his life, and nobody even knew?! The man he had once worked for didn’t even know!

“What the fuck is a L’manburg!?” Quackity asked, getting close enough for Fundy’s jacket to be brushing against his still mostly naked body.

“The country Wilbur Soot, my father made!? Are you that fucking stupid?!” Fundy asked, pushing Quackity away from him as they both suddenly froze, “The country you were vice president of for a while?!”

Charlie and Quackity shared a look, before looking back at him in shock. Charlie backed up, calling his egg to the side he was on so she didn’t get hurt. “What?” Quackity asked, his voice much quieter than when they had their screaming match a moment ago.

“Hey? Phil? You have a moment?” Charlie said, a watch up to his mouth as he stared in horror. Fundy couldn’t hear the other side of the assumed call, but Charlie mumbled another sentence, fear in his voice “Phil is coming”

“Sooooo…” Quackity drawled, clearly not learning his lesson already, “Your Wilbur’s son?”

Fundy crossed his arms again, “Was. He’s not my father anymore.”

“Damnnnnnnn. What trauma have you got?” Quackity suddenly pushed. Poking at the little heart Fundy had. Learning that he didn’t need most of it. But he was already starting to hate this Quackity. This was not his father anymore.

Fundy snarled again, “What does a lonely casino in the desert mean to you?”

Quackity glanced at Slime who shook his head. Then he put his hands up above his head to show that he didn’t really want to start another fight. And that was all Fundy’s heart needed to separate the two. This Quackity, whatever fucked up thing happened to him, was not his dad. Was not the Quackity he spent most of his childhood with.

Phil approached, not recognizing the person who had his back to Phil. He had been dealing with a lot recently, his only son left disappearing. Having to deal with two eggs. When Wilbur was around he had to make sure that his son’s nightmares of war were just nightmares. That nobody remembered that past world that he refused to speak of.

It was his job to keep them separated, as chosen by the goddess of Death, his wife, Wilbur’s mother.

“Charlie?” Philza asked, making the person with his back to him jump. The british drawl of his voice made Fundy instantly turn around. Almost his whole family having the same accent. It immediately made him think of them.

Phil’s eyes went wide as he looked at Fundy. He had an egg too, it had an inflatable duck around it, and a sword. It almost reminded Fundy of his uncle, Technoblade. It looked almost defensive, like Fundy was about to try and fight Phil.

“Fundy? What are you doing here you little shit?” He asked, Fundy noticed a slight worry in his tone that he tried to push back. One that he had only learned to pick up because he was related to the man. Phil, out of everybody, was one of the easiest ones to read. That title was only being taken by Tommy who would show his emotions like they were the sun.

Fundy immediately realized that Phil had known his name. Phil knew who he was. “Grandad?” Fundy mumbled, sounding more like a whimper. He didn’t realize how much he missed being known.

He never was that close with Phil. He was his grandfather, and he was kind to Fundy, he was around sometimes. He killed Willbur, which was pretty cool. It had hurt at the time, but Fundy later realized he was thankful for it.

“Hey!” Phil said with a smile, holding out his arms for Fundy to run into them. Which the hybrid took the opportunity immediately, falling into Phil hard. He was familiar, he was family, he cared.

Phil wrapped his arms around Fundy, pressing at the bruises, making him wince. Phil felt his grip get tighter, and lightened his own in case it was from him. He didn’t know how Fundy was here, or why. But he knew that the grandson he had thought he lost was safe now.

Phil pulled away, pausing to look at the pain in his grandson’s eyes. There was hope, fear, pain, sadness, all swirling in his eyes. Phil let go, and quietly said, “Follow Chyanne” when Fundy tilted his head in confusion, Phil chuckled, “The egg with the sword.” and Fundy nodded. He trusted Phil, and this egg gave the feeling of Teachnoblade, a man Fundy wasn’t close with. But family nonetheless.

When the fox cub was mostly out of earshot Quackity looked at Phil confused, and Charlie looked hopeful. “Who was that kid bro?!” Quackity bit, emotions from the previous argument still being there.

Phil looked back at Fundy, the kid looked so scared, he didn’t understand. Back in his world, Fundy had been dead, so how was he alive? Phil didn’t know. When did Phil ever understand the ways of life and death though? He hadn’t ever actually died. There was not a way for him to know. But he looked back at Quackity with a smile, “He’s Wilburs..It was a bad marriage a few years ago.” Phil left out the fact that it was closer to decades ago now. But Wilbur didn't look that old now.

“Wilbur has a son without me?!” The still mostly naked man whined. Phil chuckled, knowing the truth, but it was destined to happen. He had lived this change over and over again. “Yeah..It was a while ago. The kid disappeared years ago, so I wasn’t expecting to see him again.”

“Wilbur does not look old enough to have a kid!” Charlie shouted, wide-eyed.

Phil shrugged, and shook his head, “Well you have a kid don’t you?”

Charlie froze, looking at his daughter who was looking back at him expectantly. Like she was just saying ‘I dare you’. “W-Well yeah” Charlie mumbled, looking the other way, “B-Buttt he looked like an adult!”

Phil smiled, “Guess so.” He paused for a moment, “We done here?”

“Yeah.” Charlie nodded enthusiastically, scared that Phil was going to do something, or so he figured. “Sure.” Quackity huffed.

Phil nodded, tipping his hat to them before he ran to catch up with Fundy and Chyanne. Who had gotten a pretty far distance now. He still didn’t fully understand what was going on. He had lived many worlds, with the same people, and some new ones. Over, and over again. But he didn’t expect Fundy to come back, not like this. Not remembering, not being scared.

“Kid!” he shouted, chasing his grandson. Fundy’s ear twitched before he turned around. Phil caught up with them, slightly out of breath. But he still had to ask, “Fundy, what’s the last thing you remember?”

Fundy’s ears went flat against his head as he thought about it. His dad, wars, violence, blood. He just wanted to make friends, not be tortured. “I- I died..” He mumbled, avoiding his grandfather’s eyes.

Phil sighed, scared of that answer because that meant Fundy was hurt. That he remembered the things Phil never wished for the kid. He rubbed Fundy’s arms, pulling him into a side hug as they continued to walk.

Chyanne stopped, and Fundy looked back at Phil, confused. Phil looked up, seeing his house up on the wall. He smiled back at the kids, and readied his wings. Yes, he had another way to get up, but he doubted Fundy wanted to go up the long way. Plus Phil hadn’t really gotten the chance to use his wings recently, most people here didn’t seem to have animalistic parts.

He offered a hand to Fundy, and raised the wings on his back. And Fundy had seen enough Avians to know that meant he was about to take off. So he took it, and Phil pulled him in close. He offered a hand to Chyanne, who refused and insisted on going the other way. And Phil trusted him enough to do it, so he nodded as the egg ran off.

Phil took flight, and Fundy curled up into him. Phil put a hand on his head to keep his hat on, much like Fundy did. Pulling his over his face as the wind blew around them. Fundy’s tail fell out of his jacket and curled up around him in the cold breeze of the air. Phil landed quickly, landing at his home up on the wall.

He let go of Fundy, who looked around. He didn’t mind heights too much, but holy shit they were high. His tail tucked between his legs as his grandfather smoothed his wings back down under his green kimono, to keep them hidden once again.

Phil chuckled when he turned around to see Fundy’s ears back as he hugged the side of the wall of Phil’s house. “Why do you live up here?!” He asked, slightly glaring at Phil.

“Well I don’t have to worry about falling.” He said, grabbing Fundy’s arm.

Fundy growled, unsure of what else exactly to do, but it wasn’t at Phil, nor did he take it that way. “Yeah but your egg child-thing is going to be humpty-dumpty!”

Phil wheezed, his wings puffing up as he folded himself. Fundy pulled his arm out of Phil’s grasp and hugged the wall again.

Chapter Text

Fundy found his way inside at some point. Not trusting the edge of the wall. It’s not like he was ever really a fan of heights to begin with. And he could still remember the crack he heard as his vision went black. Which was only a few hours ago for him, he had no idea how long it had been for Phil.

Fundy was sitting on the floor, hot chocolate in hand, tail wrapped tightly around him, and ears pressed flat against his head. His hat was in his lap, and his jacket was tightly wrapped around himself.

Phil returned, after having to go pick up somebody named Tallulah. Fundy wasn’t exactly sure who that was, but he hated that name. It was the name Wilbur had given him before he chose his own name. The name he’d always give his daughter if he ever had one. And he did, for a few years, before Fundy discarded the name, which is when Wilbur went right back to saying it. Which meant he saw Fundy as his son, but it’s not like he wanted to be his son.

He sat something down on the counter as he walked in. And a new egg followed him. This one had brown hair, because of course a fucking egg somehow had hair. And it also wore a red beanie. The same one that Wilbur used to wear.

Phil looked down at fundy and smiled at him, “This is Tallulah. You already met Chyanne.”

Fundy nodded, curling into himself ever so slightly more. He wasn’t a fan of new people. New foxes? Sign him up. But other living things, no way.

Phil sat down on the couch behind Fundy, and took off his shoes, before sliding down to the Foxes level. Fundy watched Phil do it, but ultimately didn’t mind.

The eggs, well both of them actually, walked to another room in the house. Fundy perked up his ears slightly once they did.

Phil reached a hand out to Fundy, and saw his eyes dart to what it was doing. “May I take a look?” Phil then asked, pointing to the back of Fundy’s neck.

Fundy’s face went sour, and he looked away from Phil. He knew that the man was just trying his best to help, but Fundy didn’t really want to let him. Because that part of him stil hurt so much, and he’d be so exposed. Even if it was just Phil in the room. And they were up on a wall. He didn’t know how well the entrance was guarded. He didn’t know if the eggs in the other room were going to hurt him. He didn’t know if anybody would see through the glass behind them.

“Can I take a look in the bathroom? There’s no windows in there, and it locks.” Phil said, as if he was reading Fundy’s mind. The foxes ears perked up, and he nodded, starting to get up to help Phil up off the floor.

Once they were both up, Phil stepped into the bathroom with him. Fundy had half the thought that this was the perfect place for Phil to hurt him. Locks, no windows. But it’s not like he trusted anybody else enough to watch for him. He didn’t trust this version of Charlie, the other version of him he would have let watch. He didn’t trust this version of Quackity, the other version he would've let him do it. But this Quackity was all over the place, and open. This Charlie had more than one second thoughts.

He took a deep breath and locked the door behind them.

“Can I see without the shirt? It’s purely up to you kid.” Phil asked, giving Fundy room to answer.

Fundy took another deep breath, thinking about his answer. It’s not like his torso resembled a woman in any way anymore. He hacked whatever he could off years ago. And he understood that Phil was just trying to help. So he let him. Shrugging off his jacket, and pulling his shirt off. He laid the shirt on the edge of the sink. But he kept a hold on his jacket, not wanting to lose it at any costs.

He turned around, facing the door inside of the small rectangular bathroom. In case he had to leave, he could easily open the door like this.

What Phil saw made his freeze with pure horror. He had expected it to be bad, hearing what Wilbur had said about it, and helping Eret and Quackity bury his body. But it was so much worse than he had ever expected.

Fundy’s back was mostly a shade of deep purple. The edge of it wrapping around to the front of him turning a green color. Phil was scared of just how far down Fundy it went. But there was no way he was going to ask the kid that. There were scabs, and dried blood lining his skin as well, standing out against the purple of everything else. Phil looked at the white shirt he had on, seeing a few blood stains without touching it. It looked to continue down to his legs, and up to his head. Phil worried that he had some sort of head damage. He could see a kink in Fudy’s tail that he was pretty sure wasn’t there before. His right side had a visible indent where his ribs would be.

Overall, Phil was extremely worried for the kid’s health.

Phil smiled softly, grabbing Fundy’s shoulder lightly. “You need a new shirt, Fundy.” he said, quietly. Not trying to scare the kid when he clearly already was.

Fundy jumped at the touch, but nodded. He knew better than to fight this. Plus that one did feel sweaty, and sticky.

Phil pushed past Fundy, without looking back at him. Fundy watched him close the door, and he locked it behind Phil. Because he knew he was safe in here. It was locked, no windows, water. He’d be safe in here for at least a few weeks.

Phil stepped into his room, and scanned his closet before realizing he didn’t think anything in there would work for fundy because almost none of the shirts in there had a back thanks to his wings. He went to walk into Chyanne’s room before remembering that he didn’t wear shirts.

Phil sighed, and stepped outside, he felt the breeze, and was tempted to go ask Charlie or somebody. But then again, he had no proof they had washed their clothes in months. And he definitely didn’t trust Quackity to actually have clothes anymore.

He opened his wings to glide down from the wall. He didn’t like using them on his own, he didn’t know the people around here enough. And he knew there was definitely people who would want them off his back. But it was going to be a quick trip, and it was for his grandson.

He glided down to Wilbur’s house, which was close to Phil’s. And took one of the shirts out of his dresser. Knowing it would at least fit the kid. Phil hadn’t really seen the inside of his son’s closet, especially because they didn’t even live together anymore. But it shocked him when he saw an old L’manburg uniform at the bottom of the closet, barely poking out of the rest of the piled clothes.

He pulled it out, and it was definitely Wilbur’s. Putting it to the side, he dug through the bottom some more, pushing past the trench coat buried. He was able to find an old hoodie, that was light blue, and it was Fundy’s when he was a teenager. It said ‘Fundy’ splayed across the front. Phil smiled to himself, tossing it next to the L’manburg uniform on the bed. He figured that the fox kid wouldn’t want to wear it anymore, but it was a nice keepsake. Plus, it might keep Wilbur’s memories quiet.

Fundy was sitting in the bathroom, getting bored. He looked at the shirt on the counter, and grabbed it before seeing the blood on the back. His ears went back, and he finally looked at his face in the mirror. Knowing it was a bad idea for him to look at the despair in his eyes.

For years he couldn’t look at himself in the mirror. For awhile it was because he looked too feminine, then it was because he looked too much like Wilbur, and now it was because he looked so sad, so lost. He hated the way pain looked so familiar in his eyes. He hated that his face was in a constant frown. Scars on his nose from whatever he could even imagine. Wars, violence, himself.

He threw the old T-shirt into the trash can, and put his jacket on, buttoning the front buttons because he never liked walking around shirtless. Sure he could sit with his thoughts for hours, but he knew other…people? Creatures? ..Other creatures in the house.

He took a deep breath, leaving the safety of the room that he had settled into. And walked the way he saw the eggs creatures go. And he lightly knocked on the door. Within the minute it opened, and the egg with the chicken ring opened it. It signed something that Fundy couldn’t understand. Which the fox felt bad for, but he couldn’t really control it.

The other egg, the one with the brown hair ran by him and into the kitchen. Suddenly jumping for something on the counter. Fundy tilted his head in confusion, and followed the egg. Noticing it was jumping at a small case on the counter, plugged into one of the outlets.

Fundy grabbed the case curiously, and it was a pair of glasses, the case itself looked like it had spaces for another pair of two. And on the lid, there were instructions saying that there was a button placed on the top.

Fundy should’ve known better, but he didn’t. And put them on, and pressed the button. His vision didn’t change, but it started reading off a script, saying a few words and then switching to another language.

Fundy knew a bit of Dutch, and understood more or less of what it said in Dutch. But didn’t press the button in time, trying to convert the language properly. Then words came up in English, “Thank you for using F̷̨̢̳̖͚̩̭͈̦̬̳̮̙̻̪͉̐́̂̀̈̈̆́͊̇͝ͅé̸̟̬̦̼̹͕̖͍͚̹͔̦͈̠̬̱̌̀͋̈́́̏̆͑̓͝͝͠͝d̵̡̟̻̲͖͚̦̼͕̭̰̖̩̜͉̔̿̎̌̊̈́̈́̈́́͐͊̊͐̑̓̑̕̕̚͜͝ͅê̷̡̛̛̛̖̪͕̖̠̹̔̏̐́͑͑̓̆̂̋̅̀́̚ȑ̶̹͚̝͈̻̲̖̫̬̆͑̒̈́̋̀̈́̅͝͝ä̸̧̨̨̨̛̯͙̮̩̪̲̳̹́̋̓͜ͅť̵̹̙͙̱̺̏̿̐͘i̴̢͕̱̘̬͔̭͉̙̍̒̎̀͑́̈̑̓́͗̈́͆̉͘͜͜͠ơ̴̠̈́̑̄̈́͑̈́̾̈́͊ṉ̵̢̢̡̮̠͇̭͚̟̥͍̝̹̳͌̿̌̒͒̀͌̍͒͐̎̑͝ ̷̡̫̘̜̟̫̭̱͈̬̩̣̰̞̪̈́́͌͑̇̇̉̿̀͝V̸̜͉͔͕̯̘̻̲̥̪̟̳̝̩̥͉͎̲͌͊̈́̎̂̾̏͘͘͝ͅi̷̢̗̪̘͍̹̘͈̪̽̈̾̅̎̒̋̿̋͒̕s̶̛̩̖̃̆̇͌i̷̲͇̪̰̲̖̳̪̯͍̠͌̏̉̃̕͝o̵̧̡̫͇̮̬̣͈̫̺͋͐̈́̈́͐̏́̐̈̓̂̒́͜͜ṋ̸̡̡͇͎͇͎̲̳̫̳͓͚̗̓̀̒͑. Please press the button if you understand these words.”

Fundy pressed the button.

“Welcome! These glasses are made to understand every language on the island! Spanish, Portuguese, German, anything your heart desires! It also converts the sign language of the adorable eggs of the dragon into something you S̵̰͙̫̽̾͆́̔̑̍͌̈͛͐̆́̅̄̚͝t̴̪͈̜̱̳̬̦̼͎̦͚̬̏̌̌̊̈́̈́̾̆͊̑͒̏̽̓̃͊̂̚̕͝ứ̴̥͖̱̗͇̠͈̭͔͕̘͍͕̖͑̓̂͗̎̓̎̋̇̈́̅̓͊̾̈́͌̕͝p̵̢̰̳̳̥̰̥̥̗̻̰̥͍̈͂̇̅͂̏̔̇̏̓̈́̀ͅi̸̹̠̗̬͔͓̭̟̭̹̖̩͋̾̑̓͑͋́̔̕͜ḍ̸͍́̿ amazing people can understand. We also have the contact version, and prescription ones on the market now as well for only 59.99$!”

Fundy looked down at the eggs, seeing text at the bottom of his vision appear as it changed its hands. “What's your name?!” the brown haired egg asked. And now this was even weirder.

“I-I’m Fundy?” He asked, bending down to balance on his knees to get closer to the egg. The one with the rubber chicken came around the counter, and appeared behind the brown haired one, staying mostly quiet.

“I’m Tallulah! This is my brother..Or I guess uncle, Chyanne!” Tallulah signed. And Fundy tilted his head, “What do you mean uncle?”

Tallulah jumped in excitement, “Well he’s grandpa’s son! And I’m grandpa Phil’s granddaughter!”

Fundy stopped, Phil’s granddaughter? Fundy’s mind supplied. Who was her father? Was it Tommy, or Techno? Techno never striked him for the kind of person to have a kid, or atleast one that has two legs. And Tommy couldn’t even take care of himself, he thought it would be too complicated for him to have a kid. Too mentally taxing on him because of all the shit he already went through.

“Who’s your dad?” Fundy asked the egg, confused.

“Oh! My daddy’s name is Wilbur I think..” Tallulah signed, hesitating because she couldn’t fully remember his name.

Fundy fell on his ass. He was sitting on his feet, with his knees bent, but he couldn’t balance and fell right over. His ears going flat. Tallulah was Wilburs. Tallulah was his sister. Tallulah was his replacement. Fundy wasn’t a good enough son, going behind his back, fighting other wars, living another life. Wilbur replaced him. He didn’t want to admit it, but he still cared about that mans opinion. And he just went and replaced him!

“I’m back!” Phil announced happily into the house as he opened the door. He looked at the bathroom door, and the egg’s door being open. Until he got a tug on his kimono, looking down it was Chyanne pulling on him. When Phil looked down at the egg Chyanne pointed into the kitchen.

Phil turned the corner of the counter and saw Fundy starting to cry, wearing the language glasses Phil had as backups incase he forgot to charge the contacts he started to wear after being here for long enough. He also saw Tallulah, her arms were tucked into her body nervously.

Phil tapped on her head, making her turn to face him. She looked worried, signing, “I don’t know what I did. He just asked what papa’s name was..”

Phil hugged her, saying, “You didn’t do anything, it’s just he has some secrets yet to tell you.”

“Like what?” She signed carefully.

“Well, that's up to him if he tells you or not. He doesn’t owe you his secrets. Alright?” Phil asked, trying to get the young eggs to hopefully understand. And Tallulah seemed to nod, so Phil gave her another squeeze before setting her down.

He took a deep breath in, and one out before he kneeled before Fundy, putting a hand on his knee. Fundy folded into himself more when he did, looking at him with a crazed stare that was just pain in his eyes. “Fundy? You need to come back to me.”

In the fog of Fundy’s mind, he heard an echoing voice. But ignored it, not wanting to leave. The haze was comforting. The static of his mind was familiar. This world was unfamiliar. These people were unfamiliar. This house wasn’t Phil’s, these eggs came from who knows where, the man he used to think of as a dad was a naked drug addicted hobo, the person he used to learn how to make drinks, and properly clean from was a random guy. Phil looked the same, but he wasn’t, he hadn’t been Fundy’s Phil for awhile. And now Wilbur, the man he thought he’d finally have escaped, had another kid, with another woman, stealing the name Fundy didn’t use, but that still hurt. Fundy wasn’t good enough for the man that ruined his entire life.

“Fundy?”

He wasn’t at the casino, gambling away until he couldn’t think anymore. Until he was found passed out somewhere on one of the upper floors. He wasn’t in Manburg being told what to do by Schlatt, as Quackity defended him from beer bottles and screaming matches. He wasn’t in L’manburg, fighting wars, having his dad around, being a little kid. He wasn’t at the elections planting flowers and baking with Niki, hacking the voting. He wasn’t alone with his thoughts for hours at a time. He wasn’t with a small white fox he had declared unceremoniously his child.

Instead he was here. In a land where nobody even remembered him. In a land where everybody changed. In a place with stupid egg children. In a place that had four walls just like L’manburg.

“Fundy.” Phil said, grabbing the foxes arm.

Nobody knew him. His life wasn’t meaningful to them. It didn’t matter to him. To them, it was just tragedies. He wasn’t a tragedy. He was a person. He wasn’t a failure.

“He replaced me..” was all that fell out of Fundy’s mouth. Barely loud enough for Phil to catch.

A sympathetic look grew on his face, he cupped Fundy’s cheek, making the kid look at him. His eyes showing years, decades, of wisdom and experiences. His hands felt soft, with many scars. A cool wedding ring sat against the skin on his face. “He didn’t replace you, Fundy. He..He isn’t the man you knew.” Phil said, trying to explain. “He doesn’t know about you, about most of his family. He was reborn, just like Charlie, just like Quackity, just like Bad, just like Foolish. Just like everybody here.”

Fundy’s face flooded with tears. The man who hurt him, who stole his childhood, who stole every good thing from him. Who stole the elections from him. Who stole his family from him, who stole his friends from him.

Fundy sat up, and pulled himself into a hug with Phil. Crying into his grandfather's shoulder as Phil ran his hand up and down Fundy’s arm.

They sat there for a while, long enough for the eggs to have left. Chyanne dragging Tallulah out there before she could tear up because she thought she had messed up. But eventually Fundy pulled away from Phil, wiping his face on his sleeve. Because he could wash the jacket.

Phil stood up, helping Fundy up next. Without a word, Phil took him to sit on the couch as he grabbed the discarded pile of Wilbur and Fundy’s clothes that sat on the counter. He took the ones that meant something to any version of Wilbur that wasn’t this one. Not needing him to ever remember the other worlds.

He took whatever clothes that belonged to Fundy out as well, taking them to the fox on the couch. Fundy stared at it, confused, before seeing a light blue hoodie with the word ‘Fundy’ stitched onto the front with a fox and its tail as the ‘dy’.

Picking through the rest of the pile, he found some more fo his old clothes. Before finally finding a shirt that said all the different fox types. It once belonged to Wilbur, which was why it was massive. But eventually he gave it to fundy. And it was one of his favorite shirts growing up because it had foxes, and it covered him like a blanket.

“Thanks..” He mumbled out loud. To nobody in particular. Phil was in his room, The eggs were in theirs. But he was okay, for now.

Chapter Text

Wilbur stepped off the train he had left on. He knew he was going to be gone for awhile, but there had been some extra things going on, keeping him away from his dad and daughter longer. But now he was back, with nothing but a backpack, his guitar, and a tote bag. He had a few outfits, his guitar that he used for tours, and a souvenir for Tallulah and Chyanne.

Nobody was at the stop, but that was okay because he didn’t expect anybody to be there. He hadn’t really given them a date or anything. So he just walked to his dad’s house on top of the wall. It looked updated, but he didn’t necessarily know how.

He climbed up, and knocked on the door.

Fundy was asleep on the couch, not really having a room yet, but he also didn’t want to bother. He was a kid, but he could take care of himself. That is, if Philza Minecraft would let him, and stop being protective over him.

“Can you get that?” Phil asked, after hearing the knock on the door. Fundy was a secret on the server per se, but he also wasn’t well known. He went on a walk with them a few times, and met a few people. But he still didn’t know everybody, and based on the people he had met, he was a little nervous to meet everybody else.

Fundy stood up, glancing at Phil in the kitchen as the eggs sat on the carpet. He was in the loose fitting fox shirt Phil had found him, and sweatpants. His jacket hung over the edge of the couch, his hat on top. His hair and fur was fluffy, thanks to him taking a genuine shower for the first time in a while last night. His bruises had started to heal as well.

Fundy opened the door, “Hello-” Cutting himself as a pale, brown haired man sat there. Yellow sweater, and slight white hairs all throughout his head.

“Hey…Is Phil around?” Wilbur asked awkwardly, recognizing the fox dude. But not knowing from where. He expected somebody he knew to answer the door. Was he one of Phil’s friends? If he was he looked really young, but too old to be because of the eggs.

Phil stopped, for a brief moment when Wilbur spoke. He called Chyanne over to finish what he was doing, which the egg did…somehow. And grabbed the door, nudging Fundy out of the way with ease. “Hey Wil!” he said cheerfully, bringing his son into a hug.

Wilbur hesitantly accepted the hug from his father, whispering, “Who’s the fox?” as he pulled away.

“He..His name is Fundy.” Phil said, looking at the kid who was sitting back on the couch. His piercing eyes never leaving Wilbur’s figure as his ears were pressed back against his head. And his tail was tightly tucked into his body. He put his jacket back on, and his hat was in his hands. Which meant that he was preparing to run. Never leaving without the simple articles of clothing.

“Why is he here?” Wilbur asked, not whispering as much as he noticed how creepy Fundy was..he didn’t like the emotions he felt when he looked at him.

“He- He’s complicated. Just..Stay away from him, for now, please.” Phil asked, begging more than Wilbur had ever seen him do. It was weird, it put a bad feeling into his stomach.

Fundy sat in the egg’s room. Watching them as Tallulah drew, and Chyanne posed. It was honestly cute to watch them. But they couldn’t get rid of the unease Fundy had being in this house suddenly. He had just got comfortable. He started to trust the eggs. He was trusting Phil. He believed Phil wouldn’t kick him out randomly. He believed that he didn’t need to be on edge constantly.

The second night, Phil had let him sleep in his room while he took the couch, because he had noticed Fundy didn’t sleep at all on the couch. He let Fundy cook for himself, not trusting it to be poisoned. It was safe here. And now it wasn’t.

The door to the eggs room was locked. And Fundy knew it was working when he heard somebody try to turn the handle and fail, opting to knock instead. Both of the eggs looked at him to get it, so he stood up and walked over. He had his hat on, covering his ears again because they showed too much emotion, making him vulnerable. He had his tail in his pants, for the same reason. He had shoes on in case he needed to run. His jacket was fully buttoned, because he didn’t want Wilbur to see that he still wore the same shirt all these years later.

He cautiously opened the door, seeing brown eyes on the other side. Fundy had to hold back a growl, his ears pressing to his head. “What do you want?!” he bit.

“Woah-” Wilbur shouted, putting his hands up, “No need to shout at me dude. I’m just checking on my daughter.”

Fundy flinched when Wilbur said his daughter. Because that was once him, the man in front of him. The fox who had been put through wars, and drugs, and abuse. Not the egg behind him who didn’t know what pain was. He loved Tallulah, but the thought still made his skin crawl.

“She’s fine.” Fundy growled, at this point Chyanne and Tallulah had stopped to watch them. Tallulah had come up behind fundy, putting a hand on his leg. But Fundy didn’t care. Tallulah was his sister. He needed to protect her. Protector her from this maniac who had come back from the dead just to torture him.

“I’d like to ask her myself.” Wilbur said, trying to push the door open.

“And I said she’s fine.” Fundy said, showing his teeth to Wilbur, who now looked pissed off. It felt more right, for Wilbur to be angry, for Wilbur to be upset. At him or otherwise. It just felt right. The calm face didn’t suit him.

Fundy was cooking late at night, Wilbur had gone back down to his house. He had tried to take Tallulah with him, but Fundy said he had promised to play with her later. And it was obviously pissing Wilbur off. But he couldn’t care.

He made himself a simple sandwich, peanut butter and jelly. The lights were all off in the house, and Fundy had taken off his shoes. Still not fully trusting the environment because he had tainted it.

He heard a door open, and close. Fundy had alright night vision, and he could see the short egg shaped figure close to the ground. “Hello?” He whispered into the night.

The egg got closer, and tugged on his leg. Fundy could tell it was Tallulah, so he turned the light on as she got onto the couch. “What’s up?” he asked her.

“Why don’t you like dad?” she signed, tilting her head.

Fundy thought for a moment, “Because I don’t have good experiences with him.”

“How? Dad is amazing!” Tallulah signed excitedly.

Fundy’s ears sat against his head as he took another bite. “He might be to you..I don’t trust him.” he tried to explain to the younger one.

“Why/” Tallulah asked.

Fundy sighed, “Because..” he trailed off again, mind lost as he appeared to be looking at the plate on his lap. Thinking of vans, and wars. Countries and people. The smell of toast in the air shifted just enough to make him feel like he was suffocating in smoke. But that was atleast familiar.

Tallulah pulled Fundy into a hug on that couch as a tear fell from his eye, necessary tears. “Because he wasn’t a good dad when he was my dad..And I don’t need him hurting my sister too.”

“Can you go grab something from Wilbur for me Chyanne?” Phil asked, looking at the egg that was at his feet. He jumped, seemingly doing something, and signed, “Why not send Fundy?”

Phil sighed, “Because Fundy doesn’t get along with him.”

“I could’ve told you that.” Chyanne signed back, staring at Phil. “It’s because Wilbur is his dad right?”

Phil coughed, because he didn’t realise anybody had told the eggs that. But he nodded, taking a sip of his water. “Yeah..It’s because of that. But how’d you find out?”

Chyanne shrugged, “Because he said it to Tallulah last two nights ago.”

Phil reached over and side hugged Chyanne. “It’s…Complicated. They come from a different world.”

“How so?” Chyanne asked, he knew more than Tallulah had because he was older. But he still didn’t want to push all of this onto his son when he didn’t have to. Chyanne was his warrior, he knew how to fight. But he didn’t know wars like Fundy did, and he hoped he never would. Chyanne didn’t need to be plagued by that kind of violence like his grandson was.

“It’s..Fundy is from another world. It had wars, violence everywhere you looked. Wilbur used to be there, but he doesn’t remember, neither does Quackity and Charlie. I remember, for..other reasons.” Phil stopped, realizing he was holding onto Chyanne too tight as he looked at him, interest in his eyes. Chyanne was a kid. He was an older kid, who knew how to take care of Tallulah thanks to Wilbur never being around. But he was still a kid. “It’s the place Technoblades stories are from.” Phil finished with a smile, knowing that his kid would like to hear that.

Phil remembered too well. Holding that sword with shaking hands as Wilbur begged him to die. Remembering as Phil hung out with Ranboo and Techno. Phil remembered the syndicate. Phil remembered Ghostbur, and how thankful he was at Wilbur's revival. Phil remembered it all. It was his curse, and he’d hold it close to his heart.

“YEAHHHHHHH!” Chyanne signed and cheered.

“Do you know The Blade?” Chyanne asked Fundy one night, when Phil was out of the room, and Tallulah was out with Wilbur.

Fundy chuckled, and laid his head back against the back of the couch. “Yeah..Yeah I know Technoblade.” Because he did. His uncle, the man he tried to murder, the man that tried to bring down Manburg, the biggest anarchist ever. Somebody fundy had known his whole life, but he never actually knew the man.

“What do you know about him?!” Chyanne asked excitedly.

Fundy thought, because what could he say? Chyanne was a kid, just like him and Tallulah. But he was better, he was safer, he was happier than Fundy ever would be. Fundy couldn’t tell Chyanne about Techno taking out Quackity’s eye. Fundy couldn’t talk about when he tried to kill the man. Fundy couldn't talk about being given to the man as a child so Technoblade just put him into the animal pen until Phil found him. Fundy couldn’t talk about how he tried to take down Manburg with Wilbur then ended up turning on everybody.

“I know alot about him, what do you want to know about him?” Fundy decided to ask, so he could gauge how much Phil had told him about the violence, anger, blood, that radiated from Techno.

“Anything! Dad won’t tell me the juicy details and I don't like it.” Chyanne pouted, showing his actual age. Fundy saw himself in the egg, acting older than he was. Acting like he knew everything, and that he knew as much as the adults. That he had that much power. But he didn’t. Because he was a kid. And yet somehow, everybody still forgot it. Despite the youth in his features, and the high pitch to his voice. Voice cracks, and lesser knowledge of the world.

“He was a brave man. He was also a bloody man-”

“I knowww!! What was he like to you?” Chyanne pushed, interrupting fundy’s talking.

Fundy smiled, “He was a brave man. Who knew too much about blood and violence. I don’t want you to turn out like him. He was a great man, but underneath that, he was unstable, and only knew violence.”

Chyanne raised his hands to sign something but Fundy grabbed his hands and lowered them. “You're a great kid, who knows how to fight, and that's a good thing to knwo. But don’t let that become your whole life. Grandpa’s giving you a good life, not dumping all the violence on you at once.”

Fundy took another breath, wiping a tear from his eyes. “Remember what I was like when I first got here? That first conversation. I was jumpy, I was scared. I was violent, and didn’t trust anybody.”

Chyanne nodded.

“A cruel world made me like that. A cruel world aided by Technoblade…Who wasn’t..wasn’t the one to make me like that. But he also didn’t help. He…hurt some people that were close to me, as close as you and Grandpa.”

Chyanne nodded again, pressing against Fundy more.

“I hurt him back. It was a non-stop loop of violence. Then wars. Then violence. There wasn’t peace. I don’t want you to turn out like me. I don’t want you to turn out like Techno. Take good care of your family, love them, care for them. Don’t fight unless you have to.” Fundy finished his speech, and then added one more part, “And don’t try to trick them, making them think you're older. It’s okay to be a kid. People have thought I was for most of my life. It made me worse off because of it. I experienced things kids shouldn’t go through.”

Phil was going to come into the room awhile ago, right when he heard Chyanne mention Technoblade. But he just stayed still. And he decided he should stay still for a bit after Fundy stopped speaking. They hadn’t been getting along as well as Tallullah and him. And Phil wasn’t afraid to admit he teared up. Fundy wasn’t wrong, wasn’t lying. He was right, and part of it was Phil’s fault.

Wilbur raised his hands to knock on the door, but he heard people talking inside. The blinds had been drawn, so he couldn’t see who. But he didn’t recognize the voice, it wasn’t Phil’s.

Tallulah tried to open the door, but Wilbur picked her up and shushed her as he listened. Because whoever was talking was saying things that were familiar. Technoblade was his brother. War was familiar but foreign. The mention of a kid in a warzone. Wilbur left a kid in a war zone. Did he? What war zone had he left a kid in? Who’s kid? His kid. But his kid was in his hands? Another kid. He didn’t have a second kid.

Wilbur looked out on the edge of the wall. The big drop, the cold breeze. Holding somebody in his arms. A bridge looking over a massive crater. Walking with an orange haired fox boy who always seemed angry at him, and he couldn’t always remember why. Fundy Jumped off that bridge.

Wilbur slammed open the front door of his dads house. Making fundy growl, and Chyanne jump. Tallulah was still in his arms. Phil opened the door he was behind as soon as he heard a loud noise. Wilbur’s brown eyes were watering, his figure was shaky. He looked wiser, he looked more scared. “FUNDY!”

Chapter Text

Fundy growled at Wilbur, his ears pointing straight up on a swivel and his tail puffing up to make him bigger. He stood, his feet hitting the ground heavily. He grabbed his hat off the couch he had been using as a bed.

Phil tried to get closer, but Fundy just growled at him too. Was he the one to remind Wilbur? He didn’t know. He couldn’t trust either of them. Phil would choose his own son over his grandson any day, he had done it thousands of times. He’d still choose Wilbur over him. Fundy would have to leave the house, maybe he could go visit Quackity for a day? No, that wasn’t Quackity. That wasn’t his Quackity. Charlie? Same problem. He wasn’t the slime he used to know.

He would just have to run. Maybe the train was still there? Take him to yet another world. Get back to his home, get to go home no matter the cost.

“Fundy- Ple- Please.” Wilbur begged, holding Tallulah too tightly. She looked uncomfortable, or in pain. He was hurting another one of his kids. He was hurting his sister.

“Put her down right now!” Fundy shouted, flashing more fangs at Wilbur.

Wilbur hid her. He put Tallulah behind him, not letting her go. Because Fundy was dangerous. Because Fundy was a fox. A fox that was picking fights, and hurting the people he cared for. Because Fundy was acting like a wild animal.

“I’m not a fucking animal!” Fundy suddenly shouted, stomping on the ground to make himself scarier.

Wilbur jumped, pulling Tallulah even closer to him. Without Wilbur or Phil noticing, she cracked.

Chyanne immediately stood up and ran to his room, pulling out a sword to hold up to Wilbur. To the adults in the room, he wasn’t scary. But he still tried to protect the youngest one.

“I- What the FUCK are you doing?!” Wilbur shouted, but it wasn’t the kind Wilbur who took Tallulah out for walks. It wasn’t the Wilbur that played guitar for his daughter. It wasn’t the same Wilbur that picked flowers with eggs as his dad watched. It was the Wilbur who went insane in a train station deep below the earth. It was the Wilbur who started a country out of a drug van. It was the Wilbur who abused his son until he killed himself.

“He’s trying to protect you oh so precious daughter from how dangerous you are!” Fundy screamed. Phil tried to step in, taking a step closer to Fundy, and calling Chyanne to him. But Wilbur and Fundy just glared at him. This was a family matter. Phil was family, but this was a matter of a daughter and son, vs. their father.

“Chyanne stop, I got it.” Fundy said, seemingly calming down, and stepping closer. He listened to the fox hybrid, backing up. He was tempted to ask for the sword, but he didn’t.

“Give me Tallulah.” Fundy demanded.

Wilbur was seeing the kid who betrayed him in front of him. Choosing Schlatt and Manburg over his father. Eventually throwing himself off a bridge after Wilbur was just trying to bond with him, and get him back in his life. “No.”

Chyanne kept trying to sign something to Fundy, or Phil, or whoever was listening. But it wasn’t working. The men who knew war, and loud noises. The men who payed more attention to people’s hands than their eyes. The men who meant every word they said, weren’t paying attention.

“FUNDY!” a new voice finally shouted, and that got their attention. Chyanne looked surprised, but he got their attention, so he started to sign, “Tallulah was hurt!”

Both of their attention’s were drawn to Tallulah, a slightly clear, slightly red liquid fell from a crack that ran around her entire egg-shaped body. “See! Your hurting her!”

Wilbur immediately sat Tallulah down, and backed up out of the door. Fundy sprinted to her, looking at how bad it was, and it was bad. He looked at Phil for help, or hope, or something.

He looked out the door, Wilbur was still standing there. Fundy growled at him, catching Chyanne’s attention who had also rushed to Tallulah. “What are you doing?!” he signed frantically.

Fundy looked back at Tallulah, Cayenne, and Phil. “Can you take care of this?” He asked, his tail slowly winding around his legs. Phil, taking the invitation that he can actually get close now, ran over. He looked at Tallulah, and nodded. “Yeah, I can patch her up.”

Fundy nodded, and hugged Tallulah, a tear falling down from his face. “I’m sorry.” He mumbled, and she hugged him back. She thought he was apologizing for her getting hurt. For her being upset. But she’d learn the truth in a moment.

“WILBUR>.” He growled again, standing up and walking out the door. Slamming it behind him.

“What?!.” Wilbur asked, shouting back. He didn’t have his long trench coat on, but it felt like he did. He felt oily, and dirty despite just taking a shower. He swore he could smell gunpowder in the air.

“Why are you back?!” Fundy growled, getting closer.

Wilbur chose to ignore the question, “Why did you kill yourself?! Why are you here?”

“Answer me first!” Fundy growled.

“I’m your dad! You have to listen to me!” he shouted.

Wilbur was close to the edge of the wall. The edge that Fundy had was weary of the first day. But now he couldn’t care what happened. Wilbur could fall, he could fall, either way he didn’t care.

“You haven’t been my dad since L’manburg!” Fundy shouted, tears starting to fall down his face. His fists so tightly curled his palms were bleeding. His tail tightly wrapped around his leg. His ears so heavily pressed against his head that they hurt.

Wilbur took another step back, his fists so tightly curled around the signature yellow sweater that he felt his heart get tighter. The scar that he thought was a birthmark for years now hurt like hell. The tears streaming down his face stung like they did when he was a ghost. “My little champion..” He mumbled, making Fundy stop everything he was doing. “..I did love you this whole time.” he said, knowing what he was about to do.

Wilbur had always had a wish for death. Wilbur had always been dramatic. Wilbur had always been Wilbur.

Wilbur fell before Fundy could give him any semblance of an answer.

Fundy looked back at the door his sister, and grandfather were behind. He knew Chyanne and Tallulah were safe behind the door. Phil was safe, Phil would be able to take care of them.

So, Fundy did what he knew best, Fundy left.

He ran as fast as he could, down the wall, past where Wilbur had fallen because he knew he wouldn’t be able to save him after that. Past the wall. Making a B-line to the train he had arrived on. And this time, Quackity was standing there, next to the train.

“Oh! Hello!” He greeted Fundy. He had clothes on this time, and seemed a little more in control of himself. Next to him was Charlie, without his egg that he had the first day.

“What- What are you doing?” Fundy asked, trying to wipe away the tears that stained his face.

“He got called onto the train. It’ll probably be a quick visit. Did you too?” Quackity explained calmly, giving more of a hint to the Quackity Fundy once knew.

Fundy looked up at the house on the wall, then back at the two men who were the good kind of familiar and nodded. “Yeah..I did.”

They both nodded and boarded the train with Fundy in tow. Fundy looked up, and could see the destination and smiled. He was going home.