Our Broken History
I’m still not over WKM, so take a bit of Dark/Wilford angst (sort of? It has a happy end so). You can interpret it as darkstache or just a chat between friends. Personally I wrote it with the idea of a platonic relationship, but it’s all up to you.
The basic premise is that Dark was in a bad mood, Wilford pried too much, Dark lashed out, and now they’re in a bit of a scuffle.
“Leave me be, Wilford.”
“No! You’re not running away from this again!” Wilford shouted angrily. “I’m sick and tired of you insulting me like I’m some sort of emotional punching bag for you to abuse! I don’t get it! What did I do to make you hate me so much?
Dark refused to say anything in return, only turning away from the other ego to return to his piano.
“Look at me when I’m talking to you, Dark!” Wilford said, grabbing him by the shoulder. The minute he made contact, Dark’s figure exploded into an array of blues and reds, the force causing Wilford to be pushed to the floor.
"DON’T TOUCH ME!” Dark bellowed furiously, spinning around to face the collapsed ego.
A high-pitched ringing engulfed the room, the sound being the loudest Wilford has ever heard it. The entire world began to shake and shift along with Dark, with all of the items in the room taking on a blue and red tint like him. It was as if reality itself was bending under the weight of his fury.
Wilford looked up at Dark in surprise as he towered over him.
“You want to know why I hate you so much, Warfstache?” he said, spitting out the ego’s last name. His aura closed in tightly on Wilford, causing said ego to press the sides of his head in pain.
“You’re the embodiment of chaos. Your very existence brings about the demise of everyone you meet, and yet you act cheery as if nothing is wrong with what you do. I know that I deceive, but I do so with a purpose. You have no conscience. No reason. You choose to hurt and kill simply for the fun of it all, oblivious to the pain that you cause others. It disgusts me.”
Wilford was speechless, grimacing at Dark as his outburst continues.
“All you do is make a mess wherever you go. You’re even doing it now.” Dark gestures to the room and then to himself.
“Look what you did to this place, to me. We’re broken, Wilford. Distorted. Nothing but shells of another life that could have been long and fulfilling. If not for you we could have been greater beings, greater people, not having to resort to the attention of children to keep us alive.”
Dark’s figure cracked and split, showing the figures of a man and woman behind him. One was screaming, one was crying. Wilford felt a long forgotten pang of guilt in his chest.
“This is why I hate you, Wilford, and this is why I will always hate you.” The two figures retreated back into Dark’s shell. He gave Wilford a vengeful stare.
“Now for the last time, leave me be, Colonel!”
Wilford was stunned into silence, the world having ceased to exist around him as Dark’s words rang in his ears. Dark’s expression wavered as he realized his mistake.
The ringing and 3D effects slowly began to disappear, the room reverting back to its previous state as Dark’s aura receded into himself. His eyes began to flicker with emotions that he couldn’t control. Sadness. Confusion. Bitterness. Nostalgia. Everything came rushing towards him in that one instance. When his eyes came into contact with Wilford’s, his anger all but subsided.
Wilford looked completely heartbroken. There were no tears. No sound. Just the sorrowful expression of a man that was just as broken and lost as he was.
Dark went still, feeling a sudden wave of exhaustion wash over him. He sighed, placing a hand on the side of his head.
“Will…” he breathed in defeat. “I meant, Wilford.” Dark swept a hand through his hair and turned around, walking towards his piano bench. He collapsed onto it and folded his hands in front of his mouth.
Wilford, still sitting shell-shocked on the floor, watched him walk away with a just as defeated look on his face. He did nothing for a while, content with just sitting there as his brain rattled with all sorts of forgotten thoughts and emotions. He hadn’t even realized the room was back to normal.
Suddenly, he forced out a chuckle, letting his hair fall over his eyes. What did they do to deserve this?
As upset as he was, he couldn’t hold this against Dark. Not really. After all neither of them were to blame for their circumstances. They were just the result of another’s jealousy and vengeance, caught up in a series of unfortunate events that led them to where they were now. As much as the two may pretend to hate each other, deep down they both knew their past feelings couldn’t be so easily be erased. They still cared for each other, even if the feeling was slightly more broken and distorted than it was then.
Pushing himself from the floor, Wilford stuck his hands in his pockets and made his way over to the sulking ego, taking a seat beside him on the bench. The two sat in an awkward silence, unsure of what to say to each other after that display.
With nothing else left to do, Wilford timidly wrapped his arms around Dark’s shoulders, watching him cautiously as he waited for him to protest. When the other made no effort to push him away, Wilford rested his head on his shoulder, allowing himself to relax into Dark’s cold, yet comforting, body. Ever so slightly, he felt the other ego relax as well.
“We’re not the people we once were,” Wilford said quietly, finally breaking the silence. Though with how empty the air was his voice might as well have been a shout. “We never will be. Not anymore, anyways. Not with how we are now.”
He paused for a moment, letting his words sink in.
“But that doesn’t mean we have to hate each other. As much as we may pretend to we both know that we couldn’t even if we tried.” He felt Dark’s shoulders tense up at his last statement, but he wasn’t worried. He knew that Dark knew that he was right. He continued.
“All we can do now is accept who we are and what we have. It’s not much, but it’s something. Plus it’s not just the two of us anymore.” He chuckled, letting a small smile slip at the thought of the other egos. “And you know what? Maybe that’s not such a bad thing.” He squeezed Dark tighter.
“Yeah, maybe it’s not so bad.”
His expression shifted to a serious one. “It’s hard to move on when we’re both still living in the past, and I doubt it’ll get easier any time soon. We’ll slip up even more the further we try to progress, but still. We can do it. We can get through this…together. As long as you’re willing to try.”
Glancing to the side, he muttered ever so softly, “For both of us.”
Dark continued to stay silent, having seemingly gone still in Wilford’s arms. He said nothing for a long while. Wilford tried not to be upset at his lack of a response, but he knew that this wasn’t easy for Dark. Hell, it wasn’t easy for him, but he couldn’t help the sinking feeling he felt in his chest amidst the silence.
Just as he was about to pull away though, Wilford felt a cold hand grab his arm. He froze.
It was light, almost nonexistent even, but it was there, holding onto him with a message that said he heard him. And that he understood.
After another painstaking moment of silence, Dark whispered, “We can try.”
Ever so slowly he let his head fall on top of Wilford’s, tightening his hold on the other’s arm. With that gesture alone, Wilford allowed himself to hope. Not to rekindle their past, but to move towards a future where the both of them finally found the peace that they deserved. They would get through this together. For as long as it took.
Nothing was going to magically fix itself over night, but in this one blissful moment, with both wrapped in each other’s comforting embrace, they knew it was a start.
And for Dark and Wilford, a start was good enough.