Chapter Text
Philza had started packing as soon as he heard the news. A double homicide, a girl found brutally gutted, a boy being stalked by the killers. It sounded like a potential serial murderer. And it was all happening in Phil’s home town? He had to figure this out.
And he’d be able to see his babies. God, it’d been a while, hadn’t it? Phil just wasn’t meant for the parent lifestyle, he was an adventurer, a detective. Before Wil he’d never had to be tied down, but his darling wife had changed all that. He’d loved her, truly, and his beautiful children.
When she passed, though, staying had been too hard. Painful. He knew the kids would be alright, anyway. Wilbur was very smart and mature at 14, looking after his 10 year old brother so well that Phil hadn’t even worried the first month he left with his partner. He left them more then enough money for anything they’d need (being a notorious detective paid). It was basically every child’s dream, no supervision, a big house and endless money.
They’d always been just fine.
Phil knew visiting once or twice a year for a few weeks wasn’t really enough, but they always seemed perfectly happy, perfectly capable, and Phil had a right to his own life anyway.
He was worried about them being alone with this potential serial killer though. So there was no doubt in his mind; him and Techno would just have to return a bit early.
When Phil pulled into his driveway though, it was clear something wasn’t right. “I’m just gonna have a quick look around, Tech, you can unpack the car.” He instructed, before stepping out, scanning the front yard. The grass clearly hadn’t been mowed for a while and you could see the paths were a bunch of people ran through it, and the scent of alcohol was prominent.
The next thing he spotted was a smashed beer bottle around the side of the house, sighing as he headed over to pick it up. He didn’t entirely reach it though, because as soon as he was close enough he saw – something, no, someone.
Two teenagers, one at an awkward angle on the floor, the other half ontop of him, propped against the wall. Covered in relatively fresh blood. Dead.
“Oh fuck.” He whispered, before bolting towards the front door. Techno, picking up on his urgency immediately followed right after, reaching into his waistband where he knew his gun was. “Tommy- Wil- oh fuck.” Phil said under his breath, shoving the keys into the door and pushing it open.
He was immediately met with a body, sprawled out on the floor, bullet wound to the back. But as he turned his head to the kitchen, he saw the main event… A tall boy with blonde hair was standing against his sink, holding another bloodied dark haired boy. What was more disturbing though was that the blonde’s knife hadn’t even left the body yet. He’d just been killed.
But that wasn’t the worst bit. Because as he locked eyes with the stony eyed blonde he heard a voice say, “Dream? The fuck was that noi-“
And Phil found himself fact to face with his son, standing there, drenched in someone elses blood, holding a gun.
++
Wilbur froze, eyes widening before he noticed Techno’s hand moving towards his waist and Wil snapped back to action, holding his gun at them. “Arms up or I fucking shoot.” He demanded, wondering how he managed to sound so steady.
Just a moment ago he’d been ready to fucking celebrate and now- his dad and his annoying partner had shown up. Oh god this was not ideal. It wasn’t like they could lie their way out of this one. They’d seen Dream kill George, soon they’d see Mr. Notfound and Wilbur- well everything about him right now was pretty fucking incriminating.
He heard a thud behind him as George’s body fell to the floor and he heard Dream walk up behind him. “I thought they were fucking gone!” Dream hissed at Wilbur, eyeing the two detectives.
“Wilbur, what are you-“ Phil tried to start, clearly shocked and not really processing what had happened.
Wil whirled back around to them. “Shut the FUCK up Phil! I’ll fucking shoot either of you if you move.” He threatened, but his voice was a bit breathier than he would have liked, before he glanced back over at Dream.
“They usually are! I haven’t seen either of the fuckers for months, and they weren’t supposed to get back until February!”
Dream scowled, making sure his knife was visible as he sized the two up. While Philza didn’t seem very physically imposing it would be stupid to underestimate him. You don’t become a nationally revered detective without encountering battles and surviving.
Techno on the other hand.. before he’d partnered with Phil and essentially replaced his sons he’d been an illegal cagefighting champion, and was clearly very fit. He was also way taller than Phil, at about 6’2, although still a few inches shorter than Wilbur. Not that it mattered. Techno could easily beat the shit out of both of them, even if Dream was pretty strong himself.
Meanwhile however, Wilbur was in an almost reminiscent state of shock. It was weird. Phil had never caught him drinking, smoking, fucking, partying, skipping class, fighting, sneaking out- because he was never there. Since they were fourteen, he’d never fucking been there.
(Maternal abandonment causes serious deviant behaviour, remember)
But now that Wilbur was in the middle of a murder, arguably the worst thing he’d ever done, Philza had caught him. Wasn’t that just hilarious.
The heartbroken look on his dad’s face almost made them laugh. Like he had any right to be upset. He didn’t even know Wilbur. He’d never fucking cared.
“Wilbur… what is this?” Phil whispered, not daring to lower his hands though.
Wilbur barked a small laugh, mood shifting drastically way too fast, looking back at him and slinging his spare arm around Dream.
“This is my boyfriend, father, maybe you’d know that if you were ever here.” Wil spat. God. Phil had to ruin everything for him.
Phil’s mouth just widened, not expecting that answer. “That’s not- what is this Wilbur?! This isn’t ok, why have you-?”
“What? Homophobic, father? Can’t accept your bisexual child?” he taunted, giving a slightly manic laugh.
Phil just seemed upset. “You know that’s not what I’m talking about, Wilbur, you-“
“NO, Phil, I don’t KNOW. How the fuck could I know anything about you when you aren’t even fucking here!”
“I- darling, Wilbur, that isn’t true, of course I know you, I’m your dad, Wilbur, my son-“ Phil seemed on the verge of tears as he took a step towards Wilbur, holding his arms out too him.
BANG.
Phil stumbled back from his advances, looking even more shocked if that was possible. Although, so did Wilbur, who didn’t dare lower his gun, even as his hand shook.
“I’m not your fucking son.” He replied breathlessly, before he looked back at Dream.
His eyes were wide, begging Dream for something he didn’t know. He wasn’t necessarily upset, more shaken. Surprised. He hadn’t imagined it all going this way.
But Dream stepped closer to him, bringing up his hand to take the gun from his boyfriend, squeezing his hand before he did, and looking away again, towards Technoblade.
Dream pointed the gun at him, looking like he was going to talk when Wilbur leant against him from behind again, laughing softly, but not joyfully. “I just shot my father.” they murmured.
“Yeah.” Dream replied simply, before he looked back at Techno who was still standing with his arms raised stoically, even though he clearly wanted to help Phil, his eyes frantic. Dream took a second to aim (he wasn’t as practiced with firearms as Wil) and shot Techno too, making sure they both seemed entirely out of it before he turned to the brunette.
“Wil. Are you with me right now?” He asked, placing the gun to the table and turning the brunette who was staring dazedly at the detectives.
“Fuck, um, yeah. That-“ they gave a weak laugh. “That was unexpected, huh?”
“Yeah. It doesn’t change anything though. We need to sort out George’s dad and each other before the police come, alright? Then it’ll be just us Wil, we just need to get through this bit.” He reaffirmed, getting a quick nod, before Wilbur looked behind him.
“Oh shit Dream.”
“Hands where I can see them. Both of you.” Came a monotonous voice.
Techno was standing, leaning on the wall as a steady trail of blood leaked from his wound, his pistol pointed right at the two.
Wilbur felt his heart leap, taking his hands off Dream’s waist and holding them a bit above his head.
Dream on the other hand, didn’t, cocking his head at Techno and starting to walk forwards.
“Stop. I will shoot.” Techno repeated, seemingly completely emotionless, but Wilbur saw the shake in his hands.
Dream kept stepping forwards. “I know something you don’t.” he murmured as Wilbur watched him, transfixed.
Techno kept the gun pointed at him, breathing harsher now. But as Dream became less then a metre from him the pink haired man had no choice.
click.
Dream lunged forward, pulling the gun from his hands and pushing Techno back to the floor.
“You must really be distracted, dear detective. You left the safety on.” He laughed softly, looking at the collapsed man.
Then he turned back to Wilbur, who gave a distressed smile.
“Fuck man, what are we gonna do now!?” they asked, running a hand through his slightly matted hair.
Dream shot him a look. “Get a grip, Wil. The same thing we always planned. We stab each other now, frame the fucking dad, and wait for the cops. Got it?”
Wil took in a shaky breath and grinned at him again. “I- yeah. Yeah alright.”
Dream fixed him with a look, before nodding. “Good. Now hand me the knife.”
Wil hesitated. “I-I- oh shit, I-, holy fuck. Um, why don’t we just fucking run Dream!? Why are we sticking around here!?”
“Wilbur.” Dream said authoritatively, stepping forwards and placing his hands on the brunettes shoulders. “Calm the fuck down. They have no proof it’s us. You stay here with Tommy, we graduate school, and then we can move to fucking Australia for all I care, alright?”
“Ok. Ok. I just-“ Wil paused, shoulders shuddering slightly before he wiped his eyes, clearly very shaken. “I know he’s a shitty dad and all, and probably nothing will change now he’s dead but fuck… I really didn’t think…”
Dream pulled him into a hug which Wilbur melted into, shoulders shaking silently. He only took half a minute though before he pulled back and sniffed, handing the knife to Dream and stumbling forward a bit to where Phil lay, his eyes still half open, blood steadily flowing from the wound.
“Will… why did-“ Phil cut himself off, choking mid word, eyes fluttering as he looked up.
Wilbur just shook his head, kneeling down to run a hand through Phil’s hair. “Fuck me dad! I don’t fucking know it’s not like I had a fucking parent here to help me with anything! It’s not like I even know who the fuck you are! I guess you didn’t expect your fucking son to be a murderer, did you, but here we are! ” they rambled, barely even making sense to himself.
The blonde tried to reach up but failed, curling up slightly as he coughed, before eventually saying, “I love you.”
Wilbur just barked out a laugh, standing back up and pacing slightly. “Oh no. Fuck that. You can’t fucking say it to me now after I didn’t hear it for the past seventeen years of my fucking life. You aren’t even my dad, Phil! You just left your kids as soon as things got FUCKING hard and barely even talk to me unless its about your fucking work and your AMAZING PARTNER TECHNOBLADE. I’m the one who raised Tommy! I taught myself how to cook, how to clean, how to pawn off the useless shit in your room if you forgot to send us enough money to survive the months! If you fucking loved me YOU WOULDN’T ALWAYS BE FUCKING GONE.”
Wil stopped his rant suddenly, stepping back again and facing Dream, who didn’t seem very phased considering what just happened. He was used to Wilbur’s fast as fuck mood changes at this point. The way the brunette could go from laughing to screaming to crying within a minute was a bit unnerving, but it wasn’t really like either of them were entirely sane.
“You done?” Dream asked with a raised eyebrow.
Wilbur glanced back at the bodies one more time, at his father, still painfully bleeding out. “Absolutely fuck you Phil. Go to hell.” They whispered, before they faced their boyfriend again and nodded. “Yeah. Fuck. Let’s do this. Let’s get fucking stabbed and frame this dickhead.”
Dream cocked his head. “You sure you’re good?”
Wil let out a slow breath. “Yeah. YEAH. I’M READY BABY, GET IT, COME ON LET’S GO!” he started encouraging, holding his hands behind his head as Dream started to approach them with the knife out. “I’M READY BABY LETS- OUGH.” He grunted, doubling over and holding his hands over the new stab wound in his side. “Good one man, jesus.” He gasps. “Oh shIT- my turn.”
Dream eyed him for a second, before biting his lip and handing over the knife. “Don’t forget- stay to the side and don’t go too deep.” He instructed.
Wil nodded. “Ok. I’ll remember.” He murmured before he jerked forwards, shoving a quarter of the knife just under Dream’s ribcage.
“FUCK! GODAMNIT WILBUR!” he swore as he stumbled, grasping onto the railing.
“Sorry Dreamie, guess I got a little too carried away.”
Dream looked up, previously white shirt now almost entirely a dark red. “Fuck. Ok. Untie George’s dad and shoot him in the fucking head, if I call the police now they’ll be here in fifteen minutes, alright?”
Wil nodded, still hunched over slightly. “Christ almighty- fucking- yeah, alright. Alright.”
By the time the police did arrive, Wilbur and Dream looked entirely unsuspecting, practically unconscious and both semi delirious from blood loss. Wilbur was in the hospital for nearly the whole night before he was deemed well enough for the police to question him.
He entered his foyer again to see Mr. Notfound standing over his friends corpse, tried to run, but was shoved hard into the wall (which is why there were bruises on his arm and back, or so they claimed) and stabbed in the side, causing him to pass out from pure shock and anxiety. Wilbur cried upon the news his father had also been killed and was then left alone to rest.
Later when Dream was questioned his story backed up Wilbur’s perfectly. Him and George had been found in a comparable position when George’s dad had yanked them apart, stabbing Dream, who pretended to be dead as he watched Mr Notfound stab his own son, disappear for a minute or so, come back and shoot himself in the head. At this point Dream made a half delirious call to the cops, talking of murder and asking for help, unable to provide many details over the phone in his state of shock.
So, the two eye witnesses were believed. Everything went absolutely amazingly for the murderess boyfriends. Other than one catch. Because when Tommy was sitting by his hospital bed, hugging him, distraught about what went down, someone came in to deliver the wonderful news! Technoblade had survived, and was now being kept in a coma, somehow clutching onto life