Archive of Our Own ^beta

“But- Wil, you promised.” Tommy protested, tears welling up in his eyes. He held them back, he would not cry because of something as trivial as Wilbur walking him home.

”I know, sunshine, I know. But I just- you know how work is. Needed to stay a little while longer. Im sure Tubbo’s guardian’ll drive you, yeah?”

Tommy sighed. This wasn’t Wilbur’s fault, he knew that. Tommy can’t be mad at his brother. Even if it was Wilbur’s fault somehow, Tommy could practically see the guilt from over the phone, as if the device was the old glass of Wilbur’s stupid Pinterest glasses. The younger could gaze through it, seeing all the details of Wilbur’s regret.

On the other side was a sleepless, worn out brother.

Tommy isn’t looking through Wilbur’s glasses, no. It seemed more like a mirror.

“I- guess that-“ the blonde inhaled, trying to get himself together.

This was stupid.

”Tommy?”

“I’ll go ask Tubbo. Thanks, Wil.” He managed to get out. Wilbur didn’t need his little brother sobbing about feeling a little in the way. It wasn’t like his family hated him, but- they’ve been so busy recently, too busy to do anything.

Too busy to do anything with him, at least.

He inhaled, a little harshly.

He would not cry.

A sigh from the other side. Exhaustion and defeat. It felt more like a bullet, to Tommy.

“I’ll make it up to you, Toms, I swear. We could get ice cream tomorrow?”

“Yeah, alright, Wil. Love you.”

”Love you too, Toms.”

And Wilbur hung up. The promise of ice cream still echoing through Tommy’s mind.

The younger didn’t get his hopes up. This had been the routine for the past two months, Wilbur bailing their plans, Techno locked up in his room, and Phil trying to support everyone through it. Well, everyone minus Tommy, it seems.

His father is hardworking, loving. The greatest dad in the world, however corny that sounded. Phil was different to every other adult that Tommy had the displeasure to meet. When others would scold Tommy for sitting on the window in his room, Phil would come in and, gently, ask him to back up a little. The older blonde might even put some music on, and sit talking to Tommy about whatever. Those days were nice. Tommy can’t remember the last time they’d lived one of them.

Point is, Phil’s amazing. And the memories they’ve made would always comfort Tommy.

But, recently. His father would come home, exhausted from work, not up to speak to anyone for a bit, and make some dinner that wouldn’t be eaten by a family around one table. After, he’d cut up some apple slices for Techno. Phil would always stay in the pinkette’s room for a while. Three, four, five hours. He’d always leave with a tired, fond smile on his face.

Then, the man would go to Wilbur’s room-

If Wilbur was awake.

-and ruffle his hair, asking how his day was. They’d spend the next few hours together, and Tommy always heard Phil’s barking laughter. It was contagious, and soon the pair would be giggling about nothing.

Then, Phil would leave Wilbur’s room, wishing him goodnight. And Tommy would rush to his bed, slipping under the blankets, and wait for Phil to visit him.

The man sat on Tommy’s bed, gazing at the boy for a few seconds before saying goodnight, reassuring Tommy that things would go back to normal soon, and that Tommy was strong for sticking it out for so long.

Then he’d leave, and go to sleep.

Tommy understood. His brothers were working hard, working for themselves and for the people they cared about. They deserved some fatherly reassurance. While Tommy didn’t exactly do much. If anything, he was dragging the others down. Stressed about another family member, another friend to care for. Tommy didn’t want that, so he didn’t complain. Sure, that line of thinking made him feel like a little bit of a burden, but it’s not like he’s lying to himself. His family loves him, just- a little less.

Just a little less.

“Tubbo! I’m gonna need Niki to drive me home, again!”

“On it, bossman!”

“Tubbo, Niki won’t be back for a few hours.“ came another voice from upstairs.

“Ah- don’t worry, I can drive.”

“You literally can’t-“

“Shut it, Ranboo!”

”What the hell- Wilbur!” Tommy wiped the ice cream off of his cheek, getting his sleeve caked with the stuff, “Aw- I need to clean this now, you jerk!”

Said jerk just cackled, “Good. It’s the only time you ever do, you filthy slime child.” The older smeared more ice cream on Tommy’s face as the latter sputtered.

”Oh my-“ the younger batted Wilbur’s hands away, a disgruntled look on his face, “you’re just wasting your own ice cream!”

”It’s for a good cause.” The man said in between giggles.

”And that ‘cause’ would be?”

”Torturing you, of course!” And one last blob of ice cream was placed on Tommy’s nose.

”I hate you. So much. I’m going to sell you.”

Wilbur only wrapped an arm around his brother’s shoulders and pulled him close, “Ah- no, you love me. You want me around forever , you clingy raccoon boy.”

”I’m not a stupid raccoon!”

Wilbur gasped, “raccoons aren’t stupid . They’re grimy, stinky-“

”Lot better-“

”-small, cute, my favourite and I love them.” The brunette flicked Tommy’s forehead, making the teen screech, before leaning down to place a kiss on his temple, as if to make up it, “Just like you!” He was smiling now. Something filled with mirth and warmth. A smile often directed at Tommy.

The teen flushed, “You’re awful.”

”And you have to buy me more ice cream.”

”Oh, you-“

The Blade!!: Could you try to find some plain paper for me? I’m a little busy rn

Big Man: I’m on it o7

The Blade!!: thanks

Tommy hopped off of his bed, abandoning Ranboo’s everlasting texts about ’how messed up the legal system is because Tubbo clearly can’t drive but he got absolutely no repercussions when doing so-

Anyway, the blonde had more important things to do right now, such as finding his brother some paper.

He treaded downstairs and into the living room, trying to find the printer.

He found it soon enough, sitting there in all its ‘barely any ink left’ glory. Tommy swiped a piece of paper from the pile on top of it and made way for the stairs again.

Tommy hoped that maybe he’d be let into Techno’s room. That’d be nice. Getting to squeeze every last second he got with his big brother, before they’d inevitably part ways and return to clipped conversations a few times a week for who knows how long. Techno was always calming to be around. No pressure to talk, no pressure to listen. Just relax as the man reads one of his favourite books to Tommy. Sometimes, he’d poke fun at Techno’s fencing hobby, but Tommy’s pretty sure his brother can tell when he wants in on something Techno does. And fencing was a little cool, he guesses.

“Tech?” The teen knocked on the door, “I got the paper.”

There was a moment of silence, before a creak and a slight opening in the door. There, stood Technoblade, glasses crooked on his face. His usually bright pink hair was tainted with brown roots seeping in. And his eye bags were more like shadows under his eyes. Something you can never get rid of. Shade. But, there was still a slight colour in his cheeks, and some dulled out gleam in his eyes. He loved what he studied, after all. The overachiever that he is.

Tommy looked in fondness where he would usually look in mock annoyance. It was no secret how much he admired the man.

“Thanks, Toms,” The pinkette reached for the paper stack in Tommys hands, “ran out, you know how it is.”

Tommy did not, but he took the opportunity to awkwardly chuckle a little anyways, “yeah, no, I do.”

”You know what- who am I kidding? You’ve never studied a day in your life.”

That’s what Techno might usually say, and some part of Tommy was waiting for it.

Instead, the man nodded and took the stack of papers, shutting the door.

Tommy’s hands trembled. Itching to throw open the door and yell, scream, cry. Whatever would make his family stay with him. Whatever would make Phil look at him, whatever would make Techno sit with him, whatever would make Wilbur keep his promises.

Tommy exhaled, put his hands into fists, and walked away.

The hope for ice cream with Wilbur kept growing, despite Tommy’s best attempts at resisting it. He couldn’t help it. It was so stupid. The teen knew how this would end. Wilbur would have last minute plans and all Tommy’s hopes, dreams, aspirations- his entire soul would be crushed.

But it grew, none the less.

And it gave the boy confidence. Something that hasn’t been rewarded, recently.

It was stupid, but so was Tommy.

“Phil?” Tommy squeaked out.

Said man was sitting in his room, filling out some sort of paper work Tommy didn’t care about.

A, “Hm?” came the response.

Tommy shuffled on his feet a little. Phil wasn’t looking at him, so there was no need to squirm, but still. He felt like he needed to impress Phil even when the man wasn’t giving him his full attention.

“You said I could talk to you about anything, right?”

“Hm.”

“Can I- I mean,” he stuttered through his words, “I’ve been feeling a little- I guess weird because of how busy you’ve all been recently. I mean, the house isn’t as loud as it was before, you know?”

“I get it, Tommy,” Phil said, distractedly, “it’ll be back to normal, soon.”

Tommy sighed, “Yeah, I know. But, you’ve been spending an awful lot of time with the others and- it’s kinda getting to me?”

“Your brothers just need a little extra support, right now. Don’t let it get to you, you’re stronger than you know, Toms,” This time, he actually sounded genuine. Though it was interrupted by a yawn. Phil rubbed his eyes, “It’ll be fine.”

Tommy thought he needed some extra support. But- no, that was stupid. The best he could do was sit back and not get in anyone’s way.

“Could you- maybe, can you teach me how to make that casserole you made yesterday?”

This time, Phil turned to look at Tommy, “Awh, mate. Sorry, I need to teach Wilbur the ins and outs of the kitchen, the fridge, the microwave, what kind of meals are good for what kind of times, how to cook certain meals, what not to cook- just- I think I’m gonna need him to man the cooking for a bit. And you know how awful he is at cooking.”

Something dimmed in Tommy, at that, “Well- that’s fine. I could just be there, just to help.”

Phil gave a hesitant look, and the boy’s shoulders slumped before his father spoke a word.

“Mate, I really need Wilbur to focus on this, especially with how tired we’ve all been recently. I just don’t think you’re good for focus.”

Ah.

I can just sit there. Tommy thought, as his confidence was blown away.

I can just sit there, and not talk. Just sit there quietly, if you want me to. Just sit there, completely out of the way. If it means I can stay with you for just a little longer. If it means I can be around you guys for just one more day.

But that would be a pathetic, childish ask.

So-

“Oh- yeah- that’s fine, totally fine. I was just asking because I thought you’d need some more support with Wil.” Tommy hurried out.

Phil smiled a little at this, and it alleviated Tommy’s mood, just a bit, “Thank you for your most kindest consideration, Tommy.”

And Tommy smiled a little, too, “You know me, always one to help the people.”

And older chuckled, and turned back to his papers, “Yep. Definitely. See you later, Toms.”

Reluctantly, Tommy opened his mouth to get out a, “See you, Dad.” And left it at that.

”Wilbur, I’ve been sitting on this damn couch for hours. Where the hell have you been?” Tommy asked, chewing on a popcorn kernel.

The brunette froze in the middle of the living room, turning to face his little brother, who was sitting in front of a table of snacks and sugary drinks, ”Oh- Oh, Tommy, I’m sorry. I totally forgot-“ Wilbur shook his head, “I’m gonna have to bail on movie night, man. I got this interview tomorrow and I need a full night’s sleep.”

”Oh…” Tommy deflated, “That’s alright, Wil. Work comes first.” He smiled at the man, who gratefully smiled back.

”Thanks, sunshine. Next week, alright? I promise.”

”Next week.”

Wilbur nodded, backing out of the room, slowly, “Goodnight, Tommy. I love you.”

”Night, Wil. I love you, too.”

Tommy sits on his couch. The TV on some local news channel. His living room felt cold, but that was something he’d gotten used to over the past few months. Days where Techno would sit with him and Wilbur to teach them about building in Minecraft were long past. Techno and Wilbur always complained about Tommy’s builds because, apparently, they were awful. Tommy never really listened, he’d always say his builds were perfect without anyone else’s input. Now, though, he’d give anything for Techno to try and convince his little brother to listen to his advice.

Maybe I annoyed him more than I thought.

Suddenly, there was the sound of the front door opening and shutting, along with a familiar sigh.

Seems like Wilbur’s home.

The blonde’s heart leaped into his chest, and excitement was thrumming through his veins.

He pushed it down.

It didn’t work.

Tommy waited for his brother to rush upstairs, eager to take a nap and forget about the rest of the world for a while. Forget about Tommy for a while. However, that did not happen.

“Tommy!” Wilbur called out, walking into the living room, “Tommy?”

The blonde quickly sat up from his upside down position on the couch, startled by the older’s sudden appearance, “Uh- yeah?”

Wilbur looked at him for a second, and Tommy took that time to take in his brother’s face. His eyelids were sagging ever so slightly, and he had dark circles hanging underneath his dulled brown eyes, a testament to how long this whole thing had been going on. His hair was messed up, not as taken care of as it would’ve been in summer. It was quickly combed through before being forsaken to the awful weather they’d been having, recently.

Tommy’s brother looked tired.

“Aren’t you gonna get ready?” Wilbur said after a yawn, taking his hand away from his mouth.

“Huh?” The teen choked out. His heart was pounding, and he felt like gasoline to a match. It was above him, the small blaze on its tip anticipating the drop. And so was Tommy. Waiting for the dreaded thing to just light the gasoline, light it, and let the flames consume all they could reach. Finally, to let this game end. And he’d gaze at the gorgeous fire, reaching his hand out, wanting only to hold it and let it dance between his fingers. Tommy’s always been fond of fire.

The kid feigned confusion, still trying to push away the hope.

Wilbur seemed to notice the confusion, judging by the way his eyebrows raised slightly. And Tommy waited, shaking, for a response.

“Ice cream- Like I said yesterday? I told you we’d go out for some, right?”

The match fell-

Shoot.

Tommy shot up, a lot more coherent than he was before, “Oh, uh- yeah! Sure, let me just get my phone- sorry.”

“It’s fine, man. Take your time.”

Tommy gave the older a nod and rushed out of the living room, towards the stairs.

His feet hammered on the carpeted floor as he swung his room door open. The Polaroids stuck to it shook a little, thankfully not falling down. Tommy checked on them again, just to make sure they were alright. The frozen, excited face of a flushed Wilbur stared back. The man had just finished his first band practice, something that meant a lot to him, and Tommy had taken a photo with him immediately after he got home. That night, the family celebrated by cooking the man’s favourite meal for dinner. Techno had almost spilled an entire bottle of coke after Tommy had accidentally crashed into him. But that was only because Wilbur pushed him! Techno had then promptly ran into Phil, who, in his panic, grabbed onto Wilbur’s shirt as he fell. It ended up with the entire family sprawled out on the floor. Tommy was sent into a fit of laughter which, of course, set Wilbur off, then Phil, and then Techno. Suffice to say, dinner was eaten cold, but no less warmth was spread throughout the house that night. It made the never ending teasing from Techno and Wilbur worth it.

”I pushed you like I’d nudge a bottle , Tommy!”

”That is not true-“

”He’s just incredibly weak.” Techno pointed out, smiling at his brother’s pain, “You are the equivalent to the mighty twig,Tommy.”

”You were meant to be on my side!”

”Lies. Take the L.”

Tommy runs over to his phone and rips it away from the charger. He stumbled through his clothing pile and out the door. The boy almost crashed into the wall in his haste to get downstairs. And, once reaching the front door, he grabbed his blue jacket, an old thing that had lasted him years. It had holes and tears and, at one point, the boy had to tape it up. It was worn but it lasted. And, besides, it was warm.

The teen’s adrenaline was rushing, and a slight smile was creeping onto his face.

As much as he tried to push it down, the hope screamed in his chest. It was coaxed out by his big brother, like it was so many times before. The match fell, and Tommy was going to catch it.

They were actually doing something. He’d actually be with the other.

Memories started to flood back to him. Memories of laughter as Tommy and Wilbur insulted each other back and forth. Memories of arms around his shoulders as they sang loudly together, unbothered by the people around them. Memories of smiling so wide that Tommy was afraid his face would split in two.

It was like a weight was steadily lifting off of his chest. It wasn’t going to last, but it would last Tommy. And that was enough for him.

“Tommy?” Wilbur said, suddenly in front of him.

“Yeah?” The blonde replied, trying to smother the smile on his face.

“I-“ Wilbur paused. The man looked at Tommy with his jacket half on as the boy tried to conceal his excitement. Wilbur had a strange look on his face, and took a breath, before-

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart, but- Techno just texted me. He said he needs some help on an assignment, and it’s due in tonight and- Tommy, are you alright?”

Something wet fell from his cheeks. Then, slowly, a few more started to fall. Tears.

He quickly wiped them away, resisting bleeding grief. Taping the dam before it burst, and stitching together leather.

That was-

What Tommy was expecting. For the majority of the day.

But it had felt so real, after Wilbur told him to get ready. It felt like sun after a storm, it felt like blue skies and daffodils after a winter. A spark to gasoline. It felt like-

“Tommy… sunshine, listen-“ Wilbur began to reach his arms out, forward, towards Tommy.

The younger tripped as he took a step back.

There was silence for a moment, before Tommy took another slow step back, and raced upstairs to his room.

“Tommy!” He heard Wilbur call behind him. It didn’t matter, though. It was fine, Tommy was fine. He just needed some space. It wasn’t Wilbur’s fault. It wasn’t anyone’s fault. It was fine.

So why did it hurt so much?

He arrived at his room, slamming the door behind him. The sound echoed throughout the near silent house. Near silent, because footsteps could be heard, climbing up the stairs. The teen stormed over to his bed and collapsed onto it, not bothering to remove his jacket.

Tommy really wanted to scream into a pillow, or something. He wasn’t sure what else to do.

It had felt so real and he was so close. Close, but not close enough, it seems.

It wasn’t real, and Tommy was living with that.

It wasn’t real for him, and Tommy was living with that.

Of course Techno would ask Wilbur over. What was Tommy gonna do, anyway? Try to get Techno to laugh in his frustration? Distract him from work?

Wilbur was better suited for helping out, as he always is.

And Techno was better suited for spending time with, as he always is.

Damn it- Tommy didn’t realise he was bitter. That wasn’t fair, was it? He didn’t know anymore.

“Toms? Sweetheart, please come out. Talk to me, Tommy.” Wilbur said through the other side of his door.

“Go away, Wilbur.”

”Tommy-“

“I said go away.” His breath shuddered, “I just need some sleep right now. Real tried form all the- excitement of the day, sure. You know how Ranboo is with his- you know Ranboo.”

Wilbur didn’t say anything for a moment, and Tommy might’ve hoped the man would barge in and shake Tommy by the shoulders, cup his face in the brunette’s hands, flick his forehead, and tell the boy that it was just a joke, and that Wilbur had all the time in the world to spend with his little brother.

Tommy didn’t let himself hope too much, though.

“I’ll come and check on you later, alright? I’ll bring up dinner for you.”

Bring up dinner. Because they hadn’t been eating together, recently.

“Okay, Wil.”

“…Okay. Love you, Tom.”

Tommy inhaled, “Love you, too.”

-

Wilbur didn’t come up to see him again, that night.

-

”Tommy, it’s literally midnight, go back to your room.”

”come on, Wil! One more song? Literally just one, I swear-“

”That’s what you said the last eight songs!”

”Yeah, but I really mean it this time! Pleeeeaaaase, Wilbur? I’ll give you blood, or tears, or do your chores for a week- whatever sacrifice you want, you sick freak.” the boy leaned into Wilbur’s shoulder, “That rhymed.” He muttered, poking Wilbur in the side.

”I want you to leave.” the older deadpanned, an endeared look in his eyes, completely countering his statement.

”Now that’s simply not true, is it? Big brother Wilba would never say that.”

“‘Big brother Wilba’ hates your guts right now” Wilbur ruffled Tommy’s hair, purposefully messing it up.

”Just- one more song, Wil, please? I’m not above puppy eyes.”

”You wouldn’t dare.”

The teen scrunched up his face and gave the absolute best puppy eyes he could muster whilst very tired, “I just want my big brother to play me one of his songs because they’re so cool and awesome and sick. Pleeeeeaaaase, Wilbs?” The boy sniffed.

”are you crying?” Wilbur said, exasperated, but very quickly losing his resolve.

”I could be.”

”I- alright, you know what- fine. One more song-“

Tommy cheered, facade of despair completely vanishing.

”but after, you have to get out of my room.”

The blonde only shrugged, “We’ll see about that one, Wilbur.”

Tommy ended up sleeping on Wilbur’s chest, hugging the man with a death grip. Wilbur only held on just as tightly, his face buried in Tommy’s hair, as soft snores filled the room. Honestly, it was a little sad to see how quick Wilbur caved. But Tommy was forever going to use this to his full advantage.

The next morning, Wilbur shoved Tommy’s sleeping body to the floor, giving the boy a headache for the rest of the day, as Wilbur just sat there and laughed. Jerk.

The school day had been awful.

Ok. Maybe not that awful.

But still pretty bad.

Detention had been the first thing he’d walked into, since he was late to his first class. It wasn’t his fault he forgot to set his alarm. It was clearly the awful yet distracting cartoons they play on the TV sometimes. Sue him, he wanted to find out what happened next.

And then the blonde got slapped with a test that he swear came out of nowhere. He was too tired to process whatever the hell was on that paper. Tommy’s mind was as dull as a brick in that moment, as blank as the answer box in front of him. He couldn’t even finish it.

And then, immediately afterwards, Mrs. Smith warned them of an upcoming test, just tomorrow. Apparently, it was on all the notes they had supposedly taken during class.

Tommy had not, in fact, taken notes.

Tubbo and Ranboo had been off that day, too. Tubbo, because of something dumb about getting a leg injury for attempting to drive a car at full speed or whatever, and Ranboo, because apparently he wanted to shove it in the brunette’s face. Tommy didn’t pay attention.

This meant that the boy couldn’t copy off of his friends’ notes. Damn it.

The teachers wouldn’t get off his case all day, either. Trying to ‘help out’ or whatever lie they spouted.

“You need to trust us, Tom,” The blonde mocked, in as high pitched tone as he could manage, kicking a pebble, “We know you’re tired, and we assure you we can make you life a living hell.” Tommy stuck out his tongue, “Sorry, Mrs. Smith, it’s already a living hell! Ha! Take that, you- idiot. Stupid.” He sighed. The wind rushed past him, making the boy shiver. Tommy wished he’d taken a jacket, now he had to walk home freezing.

He had called Techno, when he got out of school, waiting to be picked up. The weather was pretty bad, and he didn’t feel like walking home in the cold. Tommy didn’t want to disturb the man but Wilbur didn’t have a driving license, and even if he did, he was probably at work. Phil didn’t get out ‘til later in the day, so Technoblade it was. Tommy was scared to call, but he quickly squashed the fear because Techno had driven him home before, there was no reason to be scared.

The man hadn’t picked up, and Tommy decided never to do that ever again.

The teen raised his hand to his mouth, blocking a yawn.

God, he couldn’t wait to get home.

His cold home.

The house that made him feel a little like a stain.

Maybe he could stand to be away for a little longer.

Maybe they could stand it if he stayed away for a little longer.

Tommy slowed his pace and reached into his pocket. His barely working earphones were kept together by some duct tape. Something Wilbur helped him out with. The man was very adamant on Tommy not touching the scissors, stating that he was ”Just a child!” and that he ”would definitely cut off his finger- no- his entire hand.” Tommy had protested, saying that he was a big man and that he didn’t need help with scissors. Wilbur just shushed him by covering the boy’s mouth with some poorly stuck on duct tape, and insisted on teaching him how to use the things.

Later, Tommy would realise it was just an excuse for Wilbur to hold his hand.

Wow, everything’s reminding him of his misery, isn’t it?

Damn it, Tommy thought, shut up, brain, I thought we were in this together.

The teen shoved the earphones into his ears, plugging them into his phone and trying to find a playlist that he hadn’t made with Wilbur. Or didn’t have anything to do with his family.

He gave up very quickly on the personal playlists, and decided to just listen to khai dreams on repeat.

He wasn’t angry with his family, it was just…

He was bitter. And that made him feel guilty

His family had been dealing with so much, and here Tommy is, bitter about it.

But he just wanted one thing. Was that so much to ask?

A hand to cup his face and one to hold. A shoulder to fall onto whenever he was tired enough. A chest to burrow into, whenever they’d hug him.

He just wanted his family.

Tommy eventually arrived at his door, the imperfect white leaking into a dull brown, and took his keys out to unlock it.

Oh, wait, it was already unlocked.

He turned to doorknob and pushed it open, warmth hitting his face. That was strange, usually the radiators would be off by the time he came home.

Tommy stepped through the entrance and slung off his backpack, rushing up to his room to change. As he approached his door, though, he noticed Techno’s door slightly ajar.

His breath caught in his throat for a second, before he quickly shook his head and charged towards his room.

The man probably wanted a snack, or something.

Tommy changed into his Club Sunday sweater-

Something Wilbur had bought for him.

-some comfy pants, and combed through his hair a bit before heading to the kitchen.

The boy had stepped down the stairs, about to venture into the snack draws, when his eye caught on something inside of the living room.

And he had to force himself to stay standing. Something he should be used to, by now.

There, sprawled out on the couch, was his family. Asleep, snores filling the empty home.

Phil was on the far end, slumped in his seat with a bowl in his hands, barely any popcorn inside.

Wilbur was squished into the man’s side, his face burrowed in their father’s shoulder, hugging Phil’s arm loosely. There was Coke seeping into his sweater, judging by the empty glass on the coffee table and the brown stain on the brunette’s once clean clothes.

Techno’s back was against Wilbur’s, his legs propped up on the rest of the couch. His arms were crossed, and he was snoring loudly. That was something Wilbur and Tommy would always point out whenever they’d sleep in the same room. Techno always told them to shut up, a slight pink to his cheeks. Wilbur and Tommy would promptly loose their minds at the fact that the Technoblade was blushing.

They were passed out while some movie was playing on the TV.

As Tommy stepped into the room, he realised it was Brave.

The boy looked around the living room, there was popcorn littering the floor, empty coke cans on the table, along with a few sweet wrappers. An empty space on the couch.

They-

They had all hung out. Without him.

They were tired and busy. But they decided to get snacks, turn on a movie, and relax with each other. Laugh with each other. Talk to each other.

They had decided to set aside life for each other, for just and hour and a half.

Without him.

Tommy harshly blinked away the tears. Because this was expected, wasn’t it? Tommy knew he wasn’t worth as much to the others, he knew that. But- it still hurt.

Because this was all he had wanted for so long. Just a few hours with the people he loved. Just a few minutes of jokingly insulting each other, just a few seconds of purposefully annoying each other, just a few more moments of hands cupping his face. Hands cupping Tommy’s face, a kissed placed onto his hair, arms around his shoulders, blocking out the rest of the word. Arms that protect him from whatever might ail them. Arms that shield him from whatever might hurt them. Arms that cause that same hurt. Arms that push him away because they don’t want him.

The carpet dug into his knees. His hands gripped it, trying to keep their host grounded. His hands were trembling, he was trembling, he was shaking. He was unraveling.

Oh, he was on the floor.

“Hm- Toms?” Phil muttered, fist rubbing his eye. Another grumble was heard, Techno yawning and sitting up straight. The man had always been a light sleeper, something that annoyed him to no end. He’d complain about being woken up by the creak of a door, sometimes.

Phil was sitting up slightly, looking at Tommy as if he wasn’t even sure the kid was there. And Techno stretched his arms above his head, rolling his neck.

Tommy gasped, snapping his head up, and that seemed to wake the two up completely.

“Woah- Tom-” Phil sat up, disturbing Wilbur. The three paused for a second at that. Phil took his arm out of Wilbur’s grip, standing up, and gently laid the brunette down on the couch. He murmured something incoherent in his sleep, but curled up on the couch, quieting after.

“Tommy? Hey, mate, what’s up?” His father gently said, crouching onto the floor, level with Tommy.

Techno sat down, a little behind Phil, so as to not overwhelm the boy.

Well, Tommy was already pretty overwhelmed.

“Y-you-“ their youngest stuttered out, desperately holding back the tears, “together- ‘ovie- ‘thout me-“ Tommy just wanted to get out, at that moment. He wanted to run into his room again and hide under his covers, hide from his family, something he thought he’d never do.

Phil looked confused, but his expression was open and sad.

“What was that, kid?” Techno spoke from behind the man, voice not as gruff as it usually is. Neither of them understood what was wrong, and Tommy didn’t expect them to. Nothing should have been wrong in the first place. Tommy was just acting like a child because it hurt it hurt so much.

Tommy stood up and ran away from the pair, ran away from his family.

He needed to find the nearest blanket. Honestly, they were all probably in the living room but being in there another second would make Tommy too nauseated to move.

So, he ran into Wilbur’s room and threw the door behind him.

With the last of his energy, Tommy grabbed the blanket, wrapping it securely around himself, and sat down on the bed.

He ignored the voices behind the door.

He ignored his family calling for him, ignored the steady voice of Techno and the gentle voice of Phil.

At some point, he ignored Wilbur’s confused questions, asking what that noise was, what they were doing outside his room, and where Tommy was.

He ignored it. He did

”Sunshine? It’s Wil. Could you open the door, darling?”

“Go away!”

”Tommy, I’m not gonna-“

“I said leave me alone!”

Just like you do everyday, Tommy wanted to spit. Wanted to yell.

But he kept that bit of acid tucked away. He would never want to hurt his family, no matter how bitter he may be.

”Something’s wrong, Toms. I- I want to help you. Tell me what wrong, Tommy, please.”

Wilbur’s voice was hoarse, and the blonde was sure his brother was leaning heavily on his door. Tommy almost felt a little bad for keeping him out of his own room, but it was comfortable in here, and the boy really didn’t want to leave.

The teen grumbled. Not giving his brother a reply.

Suddenly, there was a creak, and a quiet thump, ”Fine. I’ll just sit here until you let me in. Or until you come out. Whatever comes first. Trust me, Tommy, I could wait all day.”

“Aren’t you busy?” Tommy croaked out, mouth moving faster than he could think, “You have to wake up early tomorrow, and then you’ll pass out in your room, and eat dinner in your room, and you’ll hang out with Phil or something- and then-” he stopped, inhaling.

”That’s not gonna happen, Toms.” Wilbur piped up, something irritated in his tone. It made Tommy wince, ”I mean- I refuse to leave this spot,” the brunette said, voice much softer than it was before, ”I will literally glue myself to this floor, if I need to. I’m not leaving.”

“Shut up, Wil.” Tommy said, his voice strained, “Shut up. You know that’s not true, alright? Just shut up.” The bitterness on his tongue was clear, and Tommy could smile at his defiance if it didn’t feel so wrong, “I’ll sleep in your room, while you sleep on the couch and wake up at- like- five a.m. tomorrow,” then, quietly, gently, he added, “you don’t have say goo’morning to me before work either, don’t need your pity or whatever. Just go to sleep.”

There was silence for a second, and Tommy thought Wilbur would come to his senses and leave the younger to sit in his state. But, ”I’m actually free for the next two days.”

There was something light in the man’s voice. An audible upturn of his lips, fondness seeping through the door. Tommy wasn’t exactly sure why. He was too caught up in everything to understand why.

The boy finally processed what his brother had said, “Wait- what?” Tommy peeped out of the blanket, gazing at the door, as if he could see right through it. As if he could see Wilbur. The man was probably slumped against the door, arms at his sides, poking at the carpet.

“Phil and I… talked. About a few things. And we decided I needed to chill out on the work load I was carrying. So, guess I’m gonna be a little more free, now.”

Tommy didn’t believe it. He wouldn’t. Wilbur was lying, or exaggerating, or something.

“You’re lying.” Tommy said, something defeated and hurried in his tone, “You’re gonna be busy again in a few days. You can’t- lessen the load because- because-you’re lying.”

Wilbur didn’t say anything for a few moments. And part of Tommy thought he’d already left.

“Please let me in,” Wilbur squeaked, voice little above a whisper, it was hard to hear it through the door, “Please tell me how I can help, sundrop, tell me. I want to help.”

“No,” the younger’s voice wobbled, “you don’t. Go away.”

”What can I do, Toms?” Wilbur continued, ”What can I do to help? What can I do to see you, right now? I wanna see your face, Tommy. I want to talk to you without a stupid door in the way. Could you give me that chance? Just for a second, if that’s all you’ll put up with. I just want to see you. For a moment.”

Tommy had given Wilbur chances, and he’d been disappointed each time. He’d waited, wondered, wandered. He gave Wilbur a chance, and he was let down. And that wasn’t Wilbur’s fault. And Tommy was bitter.

Maybe Tommy deserved to be a little bitter.

The boy hesitated, before sighing, “Prove it, then.” He said, fatigue dripping from his tone, all the energy depleting quickly. He didn’t care if it was too quiet for Wilbur to hear, Tommy just wanted to sleep, “prove it, Wil.”

Show me you want to see me. Show me you aren’t just saying that. Give me proof, help me understand. Let me know you want me around. Convince me you want me around. Let me understand.

Tommy wasn’t sure what proof he was asking for, if he was asking for proof in the first place. Maybe the boy was just grasping onto straws at this point, maybe he was jumping to conclusions or making up riddles they couldn’t solve.

Maybe he was too tired to look for himself. He didn’t know. Tommy was tired. Too tired for this.

Tommy was exhausted.

There was no reply, for a moment, and the teen could tell that Wilbur was thinking. Actually- no, not thinking. Maybe he was deciding.

It was long enough for Tommy to tense up again. Wilbur wasn’t going to do anything. The boy had set himself up for failure, with that one.

Tommy sunk his head into the pillow, and tried to imagine Wilbur outside of the room, tried to imagine Techno and Phil. Imagine them all smiling, sitting in a small circle and exchanging stories of the day. Maybe they’d all sit quietly as Techno recalled his win in fencing, how he was the undisputed champion of the day and how no one could stop him from climbing up the score boards, and eventually becoming one unmatched. Being someone Tommy had always looked up to. Maybe Phil would gush about his new painting idea, how he planned to sketch. And how the painting, a gorgeous portrait of a raven-haired women, would be his magnum opus. And maybe Wilbur would rant about how interesting different country flags were, and how he’d one day start his own country, and be a leader unmatched in his skills, and, maybe, how he’d appoint the perfect vice president to rely on. And Tommy might be in the middle of it all, smiling along with them, joking and making them laugh, relieving each ache and pain one by one. Maybe he’d sit there and feel nothing but loved. And Tommy wouldn’t be so tired.

Maybe one day Tommy will find it easier.

Tommy wanted it to be easier.

Wilbur hadn’t said anything, and Tommy buried his face in the man’s pillow.

He wasn’t sure what he was asking for, so it felt silly to be disappointed.

“Days seem sometimes as if they'll never end,”

A gentle voice, no doubt Wilbur’s, suddenly sang through the door.

“Sun digs its heels to taunt you.”

“ But after sunlit days, one thing stays the same,”

Tommy kept laying down, still, waiting.

“rises the moon.”

Tommy had always been fond of Wilbur’s music, that was no secret. And he’d always sit intently whenever Wilbur would begin to play a new song, or scramble together a few ideas on his guitar, or even just sing a few lyrics he was fond of.

“Days fade into a watercolour blur,”

“Memories swim and haunt you,”

He doubted that would ever change, no matter how bitter.

“But look into the lake, shimmering like smoke,”

The boy’s eyes began to droop, and he welcomed it.

“Rises the moon.”

The stress of the day had finally caught up to him, and his stiff posture loosened as he tried to focus on the song. On the singing.

“Oh, oh, close your weary eyes,”

“I promise you that soon the autumn comes to darken fading summer skies,”

“Breathe, breathe, breathe.”

His eyes closed, and he relaxed. The blanket felt warmer, the mattress felt warmer. He felt warm.

“ Days pull you down just like a sinking ship.”

“Floating is getting harder,”

“But tread the water, child, and know that meanwhile,”

And Tommy drifted to sleep. The image of his family still in his mind.

“Rises the moon.”

-

Soft snores filled the room behind him, and Wilbur smiled.

“Go to sleep, sweetheart. You deserve it,” he whispered to himself.

The brunette leaned back on the door, slumping onto it.

“Goodnight, Tommy. Love you.”

-

Phil laughed, “Shut up, no you didn’t-“

“But I did!” Wilbur yelled, staring at the ceiling. He was laying on Techno’s bed, and had refused to move, resulting in him being in the exact same position for thirty minutes straight. Tommy suspected he’d regret that, later. But now was not later, “I punched that damn seagull! Tell me, dad, tell me. If you saw the dead eyed stare of one those birds-“

“I don’t exactly have stand offs with seagulls-“

“-you’d do the same thing!”

“Deserved, if you ask me.” Tommy piped up, sitting next to Phil on the floor with a mock serious look on his face, “They take your fries, you know. I was actually just walking on the beach, nursing my lovely golden fries, when this bird came out of nowhere and stole them from me!”

“Tommy, the nearest beach is, like, two hours away.” Techno said amusedly, “There’s no way you’d ever be able to get there and back without us noticing you were gone.”

“Of course you’d know that, Blade.” The youngest glared at Techno, “I’d be able to sneak out, easy. It’d take fifteen minutes, tops, to get there and back.”

“Now, I’m not saying that’s impossible,” The pink haired man leaned back on his bed, careful to avoid Wilbur, “I’m just sayin’ it’s impossible for you.”

Tommy gasped, as Phil cackled, “What the hell, Technoblade?!”

“The pig speaks the truth,” Wilbur said, a grin on his face.

Techno smiled, “Exactly.”

The teen only rolled his eyes, “I see how it is. You’re all against me. Can’t believe I can’t even trust my own family. Shame on you.”

Phil ruffled his hair, causing the younger to squawk, “Says the seagull.”

“I’d punch Tommy!” Wilbur spoke, taking his eyes off of the ceiling to attempt to look at Technoblade, “He wouldn’t even need to steal my fries!”

Techno nodded, “Yep, can’t say I disagree, honestly.”

Tommy stood and grabbed a nearby pillow.

Techno seemed to understand where this was going, and quickly hopped off of the bed, confusing Wilbur.

“Tech- puh!”

Phil and Techno laughed as their youngest repeatedly hit Wilbur in the face with a pillow.

“Tommy!” the man got out, attempting to sit up, but to no avail. He was no match for the might of Technoblade’s light pink pillow. He already looked a little winded.

“Ha!” Tommy giggled, “Die! Die! Die! Awful creature!”

Wilbur attempted to grab the pillow, before his stomach was lightly hit with a soft yellow pillow.

“Yes!” Tommy cackled, out of breath. He stopped his assault for a moment to look at his ally, “Philza Minecraft comes in with a steal chair!”

The eldest was beaming, mirth shining in his eyes as he watched the betray form on his son’s face, “Phil!” Wilbur cried, “Why, father? Why?!”

Phil shrugged, “Sorry, mate. Gotta help the cause.”

He quickly continued his pillow attack, laughing, before being joined by Tommy.

“TECHNO!” The brunette huffed, “help me! Please! I’m your twin- ow- tha’ means that my pain is your pain!”

Tommy’s laugh was cut off by a smack to the head. This caused both him and Phil to stop their attacks, again, as the boy whipped his head around, his breath catching.

There, stood Technoblade, with a light red pillow in his hands, and an obvious upturn to his lips, “That’s not how it works, but why not?” The man stepped closer, raising his pillow above his head, looking oddly intimidating, “WAR!!”

Phil quickly turned to Tommy, “Tom,” he said, with all the fear of a man on death’s door, and Tommy locked his gaze, “run.”

The younger booked it to the door immediately. A high pitched scream rang through the room as he left Phil to chase after him and evade the twins.

“Nope!” Techno jumped in front of his room door, cutting off their only escape, “Wilbur! Surround them!”

Tommy turned around, dread settling in his gut as he saw his big brother behind him.

Wilbur was grinning like a madman, clutching his pastel green pillow close to his chest, “Yeah!!” He yelled, “I’ve got The Blade on my side!”

“Well,” the pinkette said, making Tommy face him, “any last words?”

Tommy gulped, a bead of sweat rolling down his face as Wilbur laughed behind him, a manic smile on his face.

Suddenly, there was a reassuring hand on his shoulder, making him look up at his possible saviour.

Phil’s blue eyes were locked onto Wilbur’s as he put his pillow in front of Tommy like a shield, “One,” he said cooly, gaze drifting to Tommy’s.

His father nodded to him, confidence dripping from his eyes, and something warm bloomed in Tommy’s chest as the boy resolutely nodded back.

Phil raised his eyes towards Wilbur, again, as Tommy did to Techno. The eldest’s hand left Tommy’s shoulder, and he held his pillow like it was the sharpest sword one could lay their eyes on, “Attack!”

And all hell broke loose.

(There were all knocked out, by the end of it. Littered around Techno’s room like rag dolls. Techno raised his arm and ruffled Tommy’s hair, telling the boy that he fought valiantly, and that he’d ditch Wilbur next time. That made Wilbur glare at the two with the little energy he had left, making Phil chuckle. Techno shrugged and said “Kid’s just better than you, man! He’s a warrior, it’s not hard to see.” The pinkette smiled genuinely at Tommy, something soft in his gaze, “Maybe you can tag along the next time i go fencing. You’d fit right in.” Wilbur huffed from his position on Techno’s chair, “Yeah, yeah, Blade. He’s a little champion, alright.” Although his words were mocking, the man was looking at Tommy with nothing but fondness.)

(Tommy would never forgot the way his big brothers looked at him. With all the warmth and pride of something worthy of it. The memory would never fail to put a smile on his face.)

-

Tommy blearily, slowly, opened his eyes. He glanced around the room, and the teen was confused for a moment.

He blinked, clearing up his vision, and realised he was in Wilbur’s room. The blonde slowly sat up and looked around, pushing the blanket off of him.

Wilbur’s well-loved guitar was in the corner of the room, sitting there like it was always meant to lay and be there for every step of the man’s journey. It was always meant to see every smile, every struggle Wilbur had. It was always meant to comfort his brother whenever he needed it, and it was always meant to put a smile on his face. Or a frown, sometimes, whenever he’d get frustrated. The frustration never lasted, though. Wilbur could never stay mad at something he cared so deeply about. Something that was so engraved in his life that it would all come apart if you’d take it away. It was always meant to love Wilbur, be loved by Wilbur. just like Tommy. Just like his family.

Why was he in Wilbur’s room, again?

He was with his family a minute ago, having a pillow fight, they were all laughing and-

Oh.

Oh.

Tommy’s head fell, and he stared at his hands. Hands with faint callouses, callouses that were made whenever he’d convince Wilbur to let him play his brother’s guitar. Hands that were quickly catching tears.

He hadn’t cried much, these last two months.

He didn’t cry when Phil waved off his concerns.

He didn’t cry when Techno hadn’t talked to him for a week.

He didn’t cry when Wilbur forgot Tommy was right in front of him.

He didn’t cry when the absence of his family grew icicles in the house.

He didn’t cry when he got used to it.

He didn’t cry, because he didn’t let himself cry.

He cried when he realised the ice wouldn’t break.

Tears were flowing freely down his face, dripping onto his pale hands, because he was dreaming. It wasn’t real.

Tommy hiccuped, clenching his fists, the tears sticking to his fingers.

The memory was nice. It was a dumb pillow fight they had a year ago, a stupidly domestic scene-

The blonde let out a shuddering breath. It hit him, in that moment, that his family didn’t want him.

The pillow fight turned into a war. A war of fluff and silk. A war of love and bliss. Something Tommy wasn’t sure he’d fight in again.

It hit him, in that moment, that he was alone.

-

Pig In a Crown: Hey nerd, if you’re reading this you’re probably awake by now

Pig In a Crown: I know how dedicated you are to this, and I’m not gonna stop you

Pig In a Crown:Old man and I are probably downstairs, if Tommy feels up to talking, give me a heads up if you wanna come down

Pig In a Crown: I don’t want him to feel like he needs to talk to me, I know I messed something up

Pig In a Crown:Just tell him I’m sorry, and that he shouldn’t feel pressured to forgive me

Back in the Saddle: Stop saying that man

Back in the Saddle: You know Tommy doesn’t think that way

Back in the Saddle: He doesn’t hate you, remember that

Back in the Saddle:I’ll talk to him, give him some time

Pig In a Crown:Whatever you say

-

The Bravest Man I’ve Ever Met:Tech’s feeling a little guilty, dw I’ll figure it out

The Bravest Man I’ve Ever Met:Make sure Tom’s ok, and tell him we’ll be waiting, just a few steps away if he wants

The Bravest Man I’ve Ever Met: That goes for you too

Back in the Saddle:think you should tell him that yourself, he needs it, thanks old man :)

The Bravest Man I’ve Ever Met:Whatever you need

The Bravest Man I’ve Ever Met: also how’s your back? Techno told me to leave you sleeping like that

The Bravest Man I’ve Ever Met:He said it was funny, sorry about that one mate

Back in the Saddle:Tell him he is awful and I hate him my back hurts now jerk

Back in the Saddle:Gotta go, somethings up

-

”Toms?”

A soft voice called out.

Wilbur.

Tommy sobbed, hearing his brother’s voice, Wilbur’s voice, it wasn’t something he could handle. But it was something he wanted to reach out to, right now. He wanted to break the ice, shatter it, watch the shards fall, and run into Wilbur’s arms.

The boy wiped away tears, even though it was a pointless endeavour, he’d still try.

He wanted to light the gasoline, he wanted to swing open the door and cry, scream, yell for his brother. He wanted his brother. His family. He wanted to curl up and hide in their chests, wanted to hold and be held and never let go. He didn’t want this, he just wanted his family. He just wanted his brother.

Damn it- he wanted Wilbur.

“Wil-“ he whispered, voice strained, but stopped himself.

He wanted Wilbur, but Wilbur didn’t want him. He knew that. He knew that. He needed to remember that. He’d try to remember that.

If only his brother didn’t make it so complicated.

”Tommy, I’m coming in.”

There was a second of silence, before a sigh rung through the hallway, and the door was being pushed open.

Wilbur looked ever so slightly irritated, as if he was in pain. Tommy wasn’t sure why, but he wasn’t in the right head space to figure it out.

The blonde swiped at his eyes and stiffened at the brunette’s gaze.

Wilbur looked as though he had accidentally kicked a puppy. His face fell, mouth hanging slightly open and eyebrows furrowed. The man’s grip on the doorknob tightened, as a still moment past between them.

But Tommy caught his gaze, and that seemed to snap him out of his stupor.

“Oh, Tommy.”

Wilbur rushed over to his bed arms slightly reaching out. Tommy wanted to fall forwards, he wanted to let himself be hugged by Wilbur after so long of empty space. But- he couldn’t do that. Not to Wilbur. Not when he was like this.

Wilbur seemed to notice his hesitation, and let his arms fall to his sides when he reached Tommy.

And- ow.

They both paused for a second, just breathing together, Tommy refusing to meet the other’s eyes again, and Wilbur standing in front of his bed.

It was still weird, Tommy thought. It was still weird to be so awkward around Wilbur, to be anything but comfortable around the man. Because, even after the hurt, Wilbur was safety. And maybe Tommy regretted not falling forward.

Eventually, the brunette edged closer to the bed, and slowly began to sit down, watching Tommy all the while. The blonde didn’t let up his stiffness, but didn’t make any move to protest, either. Honestly, he wanted so badly to just drop this stand still, but the doubts plaguing his mind wouldn’t let him get a word out, he couldn’t ask. So, he sat, and waited to see.

“Hey, sweetheart.” Wilbur spoke once he sat down, as gentle as ever.

Tommy sniffed, and didn’t reply.

“You wanna talk?”

The boy shrugged, wiping away tears.

“That’s alright, dewdrop. You’re alright.”

Tommy’s eyes met Wilbur’s again, and the man smiled sweetly at him. He loved Wilbur’s stupid pet names, no matter how much he pretended against it. But he tried to keep his guard up, and slowly lowered his gaze.

The blonde was shaking, and he’s sure it was noticeable. He wanted to ask Wilbur to make it stop, like he’d usually do, but he kept his gaze to his hands. They were soaked with tears.

“…Could you look at me, baby? Just for a second?”

Tommy inhaled, poking his fingers. His gaze caught Wilbur’s hands, on the man’s lap, and he wondered if the callouses were still clearly visible.

His brother turned his hand, palm up, and inched it a little closer to Tommy.

There were still callouses on the tips of his fingers.

Tommy clenched his fists, eyes not leaving the other’s hand despite wanting to so badly.

“You can mess with my hand, if you want,” Wilbur spoke, “If you’d want that. Whatever you need, love. I’m here.”

And that was the issue, wasn’t it? Wilbur wouldn’t be here.

I’m actually free for the next two days.

Would Wilbur be here?

I mean- I refuse to leave this spot.

Would Wilbur want to be here?

“Do you-“ Tommy spoke, cutting himself off.

“Hm?” Wilbur said, tone light but curious, “What’s that, Tom? You can tell me, darling, I’d never judge you.”

“Sweetheart.” The man added, with a little hesitation.

Tommy huffed, red rising to his cheeks. Wilbur was piling it on a bit. But he sounded desperate, like he wanted nothing more than to hear Tommy finish his sentence. The boy could feel his resolve breaking. Screw Wilbur for sounding so genuine, always making Tommy crack. The teen hated him.

That wasn’t true.

“Do you hate me?” Tommy said suddenly.

Wilbur flinched, open hand retracting, and Tommy’s eyes followed it to Wilbur’s chest, “What?” The man said, voice just above a whisper.

The response made Tommy look up, taking in his brother’s expression. His eyebrows were stitched together, and his mouth was hanging slightly open, as if in shock. The man’s eyes shun with something sad and distressed, guilty.

“I-I mean,” Tommy quickly looked away, regret lining his features.

A hand gently grasped his chin, turning his head towards Wilbur’s face. Tommy’s eyes widened. The boy wanted to lean into the touch, but he only glanced away from Wilbur’s eyes.

“Tommy,” Wilbur said, quietly, coaxing, “Tommy, why would you ever think that?”

The blonde stayed silent, squeezing his eyes shut.

Wilbur took in a sharp breath, “I don’t- I don’t hate you. I could never hate you, Toms. You’re my little brother, my Tommy, my sunshine. All I can do is love you.”

This made the teen tense up further, clenching his jaw. Something burning grew in his chest, clawing at his throat, and scorching his tongue. It scraped and screeched, it pried open his mouth, spitting out the first thing that came to mind, “Really?” Tommy’s eyes snapped open, finally looking his brother in the eye, locking his gaze, “Do you expect me to believe you now? After I waited, and waited, and waited for you to just- hang out with me! To just spend a little time with me, a few minutes, before you pass out! Keep your promises! If you didn’t have time for me, couldn’t you have at least said that instead of giving me hope? Instead of making me wait for you for days?” He backed away from Wilbur’s hand, “I’ve felt so alone, lately, Wil. Everything’s so cold. I miss my family, and I miss you,” the blonde took in a shuddering breath, letting it out hastily, “You’re tired- I know you’re so tired. You’re working so hard, it’s all you’ve been doing, recently. But it feels like you’re only busy whenever it suits you, whenever it involves me.”

There, sprawled out on the couch, was his family. Asleep, snores filling the empty home.

Tommy shook, “Do you think I’m a burden?” he got out weakly, “If you don’t hate me- don’t you guys at least wanna stay away from me?”

He sighed, “I’m sorry, Wilbur. I know how busy you guys are, I understand. It just hurts. It hurts a lot.”

“Tommy, no- no,” his older brother’s voice was full of despair. It was shaking, and the man was surely tearing up, “Sunflower, you- no, you never have to understand- God, you’re just a kid, sweetheart- and I couldn’t even-“

Wilbur inhaled, collecting his thoughts, and shifted closer to Tommy, “Love, you’re not a burden. You never have been, and never will be, not to me, or the others.” The man leaned towards Tommy, looking at the younger as if he could get all the answers by gaze alone, “I love you, Tommy. I love you, and I will keep saying it until you believe me. I will stay by your side until you can forgive me. If you ever choose to. And I’ll leave, if you want me to. If you want me to, because I sure as hell never want to.”

Wilbur poked Tommy’s forehead, as if it would make the younger understand, “These last two months have been awful, for all of us. Not just Phil, Tech and I. And I’m so sorry I couldn’t see how much you were hurting, how much you needed someone. And- I should’ve given that to you. Been there for you but- I never meant to disappoint you, Toms. I truly did want to spend time with you but life got in the way. Weak excuse, looking back,” the brunette sighed, trying to breathe out the burdens crafted by the weeks of silence, his shoulders deflated, “I left you behind. There’s no excuse for that. I’m sorry, so sorry, sunshine.”

Protests were building up in Tommy’s mind, but his brother was sitting in front of him now, and the rest faded away, all attention towards each other. The brunette leaned his head forward, gently knocking their foreheads together, tears forming in his eyes. Tommy slumped, a little, slight dread filling his face at the image of Wilbur on the verge of crying, “You are worth so much, Tommy. You are worth the sun, the moon, the stars. More than that. You’re the reason I laugh as much as I do, the reason I’m happy as much as I am. You’re bright, and wonderful, and so loving. Sometimes I look at you and I swear there isn’t a thing that could compare. Phil cried the first time you looked at him, you know? And Techno didn’t stop smiling for hours after he first held you. We love you, Tommy, more than anything,”

The man slowly raised his hands, hovering them above his brother’s cheeks.

“You’re a miracle, Tommy.” Wilbur’s hands gently cupped the younger’s face, as they had done countless times before. A gesture of comfort. From one, to six, to eight, to fifteen. Nine, to fourteen, to sixteen, to now. All their lives. From then until whenever, for as long as they’d have each other, for as long as they’re allowed to, and for even longer. For as long as they’re able to. And Tommy’s eyes shone, spectacles of tears, two kaleidoscopes baring memories, intertwined recollections rolling over each other in forms of placid beads. His lips trembled and his entire demeanour fell. Fractured. Into edged pieces, each reflecting the anguish and heartache of one another. Fragile shards of glass. Delicate petals of a rotting lotus, a rotted lotus, “My miracle.”

And Tommy-

Tommy broke.

It was loud, that was the first thing Techno thought. So loud, in fact, that he and Phil ran upstairs towards the noise.

They found that it was coming from Wilbur’s room, and quietly rushed over to the door.

There, on Wilbur’s bed, sat Tommy. In the middle of their desolate bubble, blue eyes gleaming with falling tears. He was sobbing into Wilbur’s sweater, which was quickly becoming ruined by the emotional water.

The teen was crying as though he’d never done so before. It echoed through the entire house, ringing in all their ears. The tears seemed never ending, and the screams never ceasing. He was clawing at his brother’s sweater, as if the older would disappear the second Tommy’s grip loosened even slightly. He was inconsolable. But Wilbur just held him tightly, crying, albeit much more quietly. His tears falling gently onto Tommy’s hair and tripping to the floor. The teen’s wails were muffled, but no less heart aching. The grief bled through the floor, dripping, pouring through the entire house. All the while, Wilbur was whispering soft reassurances into his hair, words full of love and letters painted with honeysuckle, not meant for anyone but the two. The man kissed the crown of Tommy’s head, and continued his hushed one-sided conversation.

Not even a black hole could pull them apart, Techno thought.

The pinkette exhaled, falling to the floor. Phil startled behind him, but he was payed no mind.

Techno’s knees dug into the carpeted floor, and his head was pounding.

They were crying, but they were fine. If his family could spark a connection, they’d be able to figure it out.

They’re alright.

A murmur made Techno whip his head towards the pair.

“E-en’to-“ Tommy choked out between sobs.

Wilbur paused, opening his eyes and looking down with confusion lining his broken features, “Tommy?”

“C’nto-“ The kid hiccuped, tears falling off his chin.

Understanding seemed to flash across Wilbur’s face, quickly replaced by exasperated amusement, “Oh my- yes, Tommy, like from the hit 2021 movie Encanto. A miracle, Tommy, a miracle.”

The blonde managed a giggle, no matter how croaked, and Wilbur’s mock annoyance seemingly vanished as the man completely melted.

God, Techno was too tired for this.

There was suddenly a hand on his shoulder, and he glanced behind him to the unreadable expression on Phil’s face.

“We should head down.” The man whispered, sounding exhausted.

Techno, hesitantly, nodded, and padded away from the door.

His expression was sour. Angry. The pinkette clenched his fists but didn’t say a word.

The cries had stopped a while afterwards. Tommy was slumped in Wilbur’s hold, eyes shut, tears still lining his eyelashes.

Wilbur was rocking the pair, grip never loosening.

It was quiet, and Tommy was grateful for that. He never usually likes the quiet, but his head was pounding and he just needed to be held.

The boy inhaled. Exhaled. And tried to keep afloat. It was painfully easier with someone else to hold his hand.

“Darling?”

Well, it would’ve been easy if Wilbur wasn’t such a sap.

Tommy grunted in response, the tips of his ears burning.

“You up for some water?” The man sounded fond, yet amused, knowing exactly what he was doing. Jerk.

The blonde only buried himself further into his brother’s chest, and shrugged.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” Wilbur was clearly trying to pull away from the hug, but Tommy only held on tighter, “Tommy. You’re not fighting me on this, you haven’t had anything to eat since you got home from school.”

The blonde muttered something, though it was very muffled by Wilbur’s sweater.

“What?”

Groaning, Tommy moved his head just enough to be heard by Wilbur, “You never said anything about food.”

The brunette sighed, twirling a strand of the younger’s hair, “Just some toast? Please?”

Tommy thought this through. On one hand, he was pretty hungry. On the other hand, he wasn’t sure how mentally ready he was for Wilbur to leave again.

“You can come with me,” The brunette spoke, as if reading his mind, “I can ask Dad and Tech to stay out of the kitchen for a few minutes, if you want. They won’t mind at all.”

Ah. Right.

Tommy thought about seeing the pair in this state. Something tightened in his chest at the thought. But some larger part ached at the idea of still being upset with his family. He didn’t want to be upset, he just was. It felt like betrayal, some sort of sick conformation of his fears, when he’d seen them all sleeping on the couch.

The boy’s grip on Wilbur loosened, and his mood significantly damped at the reminder. Tommy’s shoulders lowered and he sluggishly pulled away from his brother, looking down towards the mattress.

“Tommy? What happened?” Wilbur spoke, letting go of Tommy’s hair, “We don’t have to, if you really don’t want to. We can just chill up here for a bit.”

The boy stayed quiet.

“Tommy,” a hand was placed on his knee, it was warm, “I’m here, right? Tell me what’s going through your big head.”

The teen poked Wilbur’s hand, “Not a big head, old man,” he muttered. Tommy released a breath, and started to play with Wilbur’s fingers, curling and uncurling them, “you were all… together when I came home. I guess it- it kinda set me off.”

The hand he was holding stiffened for a second, before relaxing again, “Oh.”

“Yeah.”

Wilbur tapped the boy’s hand briefly, “I’m sorry, sunshine.”

“Don’t be sorry,” Tommy interrupted quickly, “you deserve some rest. Not your fault I wasn’t home.”

The man hummed in disagreement, but dropped that area of conversation, “I would’ve loved to have you there. Wanted you there,” he stopped Tommy’s prodding by lacing their fingers together, “we can have another one. You can pick the movies.”

“Can we-“

“If you say Up, sweetheart, I swear-“

“Please?” the boy pleaded, voice high pitched.

“Fine.”

Tommy’s raised his brow, looking up at Wilbur, “I think that’s the quickest you’ve ever caved. You’ve gone all soft, Wil.”

“It’s because I hate you.”

“That doesn’t even make sense-“

A quick kiss was placed on his head, and the hand that wasn’t holding Tommy’s started to mess up his hair, “Yeah, well, I don’t care.”

The teen rolled his eyes, batting Wilbur’s hand away, “You’re the worst person I’ve ever met.”

“The same person who’s gonna get you some toast?”

Tommy paused, eyebrows furrowing. The look on Wilbur’s face was open, and it was clear that Tommy could say no. Just one word, and Wilbur’s presence would hopefully kill any of the thoughts still plaguing his mind.

They could still do that if Tommy got some food. He can imagine Wilbur was a little hungry, too.

But that wasn’t the problem. The problem was that Techno and Phil were down there. Did Tommy want to have that inevitable conversation and get it over with, or did he want to run away for a little longer?

”We love you, Tommy, more than anything,”

Tommy thought back to Techno’s strained smile. Phil’s distracted gaze. They’re weeks of near radio silence.

He thought back to the bags under their eyes. The empty dinner table. The strained smiles, horse voices-

Techno’s prideful smile, Phil’s gentle gaze. The way they’d hold him up, and the way they’d help keep him afloat. Tommy thought back to cackles, sleepless nights spent in other rooms, a warm house filled to the brim with love.

…he missed his family. A lot.

“Do you think Phil and Tech could- maybe just stay in the kitchen?”

Wilbur’s face was blank for a second, before his hand squeezed the other’s, and Tommy was suddenly being pulled into the man’s arms again.

“Darling, Tom, I’m so proud of you. You really don’t have to. If you need more time- or if you just don’t wanna see anyone right now- you’re so brave, lovely, so brave.”

“Shut up, Wil.”

A kiss to his hair, “Brave boy.”

Tommy flushed, and pulled away from the hug, “Alright, I’m leaving-“

“Tommy, no! Come back-“

“You’re so clingy, man-“

“Says the one who refused to let go of me earlier-“

“I despise you.”

Techno was a little scared, honestly.

When Wilbur had texted him the words, “We’re coming down, don’t worry about leaving the kitchen” he was more than a little surprised. And anxious. Guilty. A lot of things at once, honestly.

“It’ll fine, mate. I’m sure Toms just wants to talk. That’s a good thing, remember?” Phil said, reassuring as ever.

Techno messed with his fidget cube, anxiety making his hands shake, “Mhm.”

“You’re alright, mate, you’re doing great.”

“I’m not a kid, Dad.”

“Yeah, well you’re still my kid, bonfire, and that means you get assurance.” Phil said, as if making affection clear as day was easy.

For most of them, it was.

Techno grumbled, tips of his ears turning red. He stayed silent, despite the fact that he could feel Phil’s knowing grin.

Suddenly, there was the sound of footsteps padding down the stairs. Techno stiffened, but still tried to look casual as he crossed his arms and leaned against the counter.

Tommy and Wilbur appeared in the doorway, hand in hand, as always. They looked a little worse for wear. Matching red rimmed eyes topped their eye bags, and their hair was messed up in the same unruly way. All in all, they looked like the perfect picture of exhaustion, misery and love.

Techno hoped the sentiment could stretch to all four of them, for the first time in a while.

“We’re here for toast,” Wilbur suddenly piped up, “among other things.”

Tommy snorted next to him, but nodded, “Man’s right.”

That released some of the tension in Techno’s shoulders, as he gazed fondly at his brothers, “Yeah, alright. Remember to-“

“-punch the toaster a few times, we know, Techno,” Tommy said, tone surprisingly light for their situation, “Don’t gotta tell us every time.”

“I believe Tech was only talking to you, Tom.” Phil said behind him, relief clear in his tone.

Tommy merely shrugged at this, walking to their bread bin while still holding Wilbur’s hand, “What can I say? Me and Wil are one unit.”

“Facts.” Wilbur said, squeezing their joined hands.

“You two are terrible.” The pinkette said, eyes now trained to the floor as his little brother tried to open a bag of bread with one hand, as Wilbur held back snickers.

The only sound in the kitchen for a moment was the rustling of a bag as Tommy failed to open it, Wilbur being absolutely no help, and refusing to unlink their hands.

There was tension in the air. Techno couldn’t remember the last time the family of four was in the same room for this long. It was sad to think about, and something painful tightened in his chest. He loved his family more than anything, the thought of being away from them for so long was crushing. But, it was a crushing reality they lived through. Something, for once, they didn’t live through together.

“Toms,” Phil said, breaking the silence, “we know you might wanna talk, so- I just wanna let you know- we’ll talk whenever you feel ready to, alright? Your time, not ours, mate.”

Tommy took a piece of bread out of the packet, keeping silent. He stepped the short distance to their toaster and switched it on, before placing the bread in its rightful place within the toaster. All the while, remaining quiet.

Wilbur squeezed his hand, Tommy squeezed back.

“You’re upset about the movie thing, aren’t you?” Techno finally choked out, keeping his eyes anywhere but on his family. It was cowardly, but the man wasn’t sure if he could take anything else.

Tommy stood for a second, probably looking at him with surprise. It was strange for the pinkette to make the first move to talk, after all. But this was important to Techno, and he didn’t want to risk Tommy being here any longer if he was uncomfortable, “Yeah… yeah, that’s part of it.” The blonde hesitantly said.

Techno winced, “I’m sorry, Tommy. The- it was my idea,” he admitted, saying the words he’d been reciting in his head all day, “I was dead tired, but I already slept in today, so I figured a nap wasn’t needed. Then, Wilbur came home, much earlier than usual, saying he’d apparently been too tired to work or somethin’-”

Wilbur groaned, “Not what happened but okay-“

“-And I overheard him and Dad talking about Wilbur taking a little less weight. Taking a break, relying on someone else for now. And it got me thinkin’ about these past two months. I figured we could all use a break, especially with how much Dad was digging into Wil. Old man really didn’t hold back, it even changed my mind, Toms, you would’t believe how convincing Dad is when he’s set on something. Like, pulling out all the old wise wisdom, yeesh-“

Phil lightly smacked his arm, a grin on his face, “Focus, Techno.” Tommy cackled and muttered something about Phil being an old man while Wilbur snorted.

“Anyway. I thought we could watch a movie. Just like we used to. Phil could buy some snacks, Wilbur could choose an awful movie. And we could all wait-“ the man shrunk at that, voice going meek, “we could all wait. For you to get home.” He shook his head slightly, and waved off Phil’s concerned glance, “I just- guess I fell asleep before you got back. And you called me. But I didn’t answer because I left my phone upstairs and- you probably thought we were ignoring you,”

The pinkette stopped leaning on the counter, facing Tommy’s direction, “I’m sorry, Tommy. I didn’t think. ‘s my fault you got so upset. It was stupid, I know. I’m sorry.”

“You- you don’t have to apologise for taking a break,” Tommy said, something dejected in his tone, “I’d never be upset at you for that. It’s just- well, I wish I could’ve been there, too. Wish you picked up your phone.”

The teen sighed, “But that’s not- I mean, are you… still gonna be swamped with school, after today? I dunno why that has to stop. You’ve still got a lot of work to do, right? You’ll be locked up in your room all day and stay away from m- everyone.”

Techno narrowed his eyes slightly, catching his brother’s slip up. It’s true he hasn’t really been around much. But the pinkette didn’t realise how much it affected the younger.

Techno would spend time with Phil, letting the man distract him and force him to take a break. His father was always visiting him, and it was nice. It was really nice. Techno’s mood would lift the second he heard the floor creak, signaling Phil’s arrival.

He’d ask Wilbur for help whenever his twin was well enough to make the trek. Wilbur would always assure him, telling Techno how well he was doing, and jokingly complain how much smarter the pinkette was. Wilbur would hold on to his hand, and run full speed at the next checkmark. Never faster than Techno, but the brunette never left his side, regardless.

And Tommy. Well, Tommy’s laughter would always put a smile on his face and-

He hasn’t been hearing much of it lately.

He hasn’t been hearing much of anything from Tommy lately.

Oh.

Suddenly, he felt the overwhelming urge to cry.

“I… guess I could use some more help, just so Dad doesn’t put me through the shredder,” he suddenly said, faster than he could think, “Do you… want to help out a bit?”

Their youngest’s eyes widened, shock painting his features, “I- but, wouldn’t I just slow you down? I mean, I don’t know much of anything when it comes to this kind of stuff.”

Techno shrugged, “I’ve got breaks, don’t I? Can just teach you how to do this stuff.”

“You spend your breaks with Phil, though. And… they won’t really be breaks if all you’re doing is teaching me.”

“Phil being there doesn’t change anything, spitfire. If anything, I can kick him out, if you want,” Techno quietly chuckled, “Besides, teaching you is… fun, usually. I guess.”

Wilbur grinned, poking Tommy’s reddening cheek. To which the younger responded by trying to bite his finger, “You always look like you have stars in your eyes whenever Techno lectures you. Or whenever you force me to play you guitar. Literally, all we have to do is give you a glance and you’ll beam.”

The younger flushed, squeezing Wilbur’s hand, “Shut up, Wil.” Tommy looked towards the floor, abashed, “You guys are just cool. Not my fault.” He muttered, almost too quiet for Techno to hear. The pinkette’s eyes creased, and his lips twitched upwards. Something warm bloomed in his chest, and he’d forever deny tears pricking in his eyes at the reminder of how long it had been since that happened.

“I am going to bite your hand. Right now. I need you gone,” Wilbur said, a stupid smile of his face, “I need you flung into the stratosphere, never to return.”

Tommy grumbled, very clearly contemplating pulling his hand away from the older, “Anyway,” he said, gaze lifting, slowly, to Techno’s shoulder, “Do you- uh- do you really mean that? About me being able to hang- sit with you during your breaks? If you really need the help.” Tommy was sheepish, hesitant, and it made Techno ache. His little brother was never this meek, he never should’ve had the chance to become so small. To become half of himself.

Technoblade took a hesitant step closer, eyes gentle and grim, “Matchstick, I want your help because I want you to be there, alright? I want you there. I missed you, Tommy .”

Ding!

The toast kept out of its holder, making everyone in the room flinch.

“I’ll get it.” Wilbur quietly said, squeezing Tommy’s hand and finally letting go.

Tommy’s hand shook, and he raised his gaze to look at the tip of Techno’s nose, “Really?” The kid squeaked out, and Techno swore his eyes were twinkling.

“Yeah, Toms, yeah.”

Tommy quickly raised his arms, but made no move to step closer.

Techno just raised his own arms, and smiled reassuringly at his little brother.

Tommy took the chance, and dove into the man’s arms, “Missed you, too.”

“I’m sorry.”

Tommy shook his head, “You’re good,” he took a breath and, “Love you.”

Techno’s breath hitched, and he breathed into Tommy’s hair, “Love you, too.”

They stood for a few moments, just enjoying each other’s presence, before Tommy eventually pulled back, letting Techno have his space.

“Anyway,” The pinkette spoke, voice level, “I believe it’s time for toast.”

“Ah, yes,” Tommy turned towards Wilbur, who was setting the buttered toast down on a small plate, “the promised treasure.” The boy made grabby hands towards the plate, and Wilbur huffed, before handing it to Tommy.

Their youngest took a bite, and his shoulders relaxed.

“Up for some water?” Wilbur said, relieved.

Tommy nodded, and Techno set out to get him a glass. Only then, did he realise the distinct absence of Phil, “Yo, where’d our Dad go?”

Tommy glanced up from his toast, looking around the room, confusion donning his face. The boy’s brows furrowed, as he glanced around the room for a second time despite Phil clearly not being there.

“I’m sure he just needed the bathroom, or something,” Wilbur said, knocking his and Tommy’s shoulders together, “He’ll be down for sappy time in a sec.”

Something in the blonde seemed to relax at that, and he went back to his toast, “I wasn’t aware it was sappy time.” He said, mouth full of toast.

“Don’t chew while you’re talking,” Techno said, a little disgusted, “we’ll just set up for movie night without him.”

Tommy swallowed, “Don’t you need to get back to work, though?”

The pinkette shook his head, “Taking the rest of the day off, I’ve just decided.” He clapped his hands, “Anyway, what do you guys wanna watch first?”

Wilbur covered Tommy’s mouth before he could get a word in, “Brave,” then, he quickly took back his hand, face scrunching up, “did you just lick my hand?!”

“You said we could watch Up!” The blonde complained, ignoring Wilbur’s disgruntlement.

The brunette sighed, “I did, didn’t I?” He walked towards the living room, wiping his hand off on Tommy’s shirt, the younger screeching, “I’ll set it up, you two get to work on snacks. I will disembowel you if you let Tommy get more than one can of Coke.”

The younger groaned, yelling back at Wilbur. Techno sighed, horribly fond, and walked over to the fridge to get Tommy three cans of Coke. Just to spite Wilbur.

He sniffed, and smiled.

They’re alright.

-

“Tommy, why the hell are you still wearing those?” Wilbur said, pointing to Tommy’s school clothes.

“Uh-“

“Go change. Right now. I am not cuddling while you still have that on.”

“Who said anything about cuddling-“

Wilbur lightly pushed him towards the door, “Change.”

-

Tommy reached the top of the stairs, still grumbling about how stupid Wilbur was, when his eyes landed on the open door of Wilbur’s room.

He thought for a moment, narrowing his eyes.

And walked towards his brother’s door.

Tommy tiptoed inside the room, as if someone would jump out of nowhere and catch him snooping around. That definitely wasn’t likely, but the boy still padded to Wilbur’s closest, looking around, as if someone would yell at him to get out.

Tommy opened the closet, and quickly snatched Wilbur’s favourite yellow sweater, before bolting it out the door. He rushed to his room and slammed the door behind him, slumping against it and sighing, feeling like he just achieved some great spy mission.

He would be the best spy.

“Uh, Tommy?”

Tommy screeched, quickly hiding the sweater behind him in a poor attempt to look inconspicuous, “What’s up?” His gaze landed on Phil, who seemed to be in the middle of fluffling Tommy’s pillow.

Phil jolted, like he had been caught doing something he shouldn’t, and quickly placed the pillow back on Tommy’s (neat) bed, “Oh, I was just… I just thought I could clean up your bed for you.”

Tommy looked at his bed. His Spider-Man blanket was placed over his mattress tidily, with his pillow at the far end of the bed, perfectly centre. None of the previous homework appeared to be sprawled across it.

Tommy’s gaze fell to his floor, and it seemed as though there wasn’t a speck of mess on it, either. All the cardigans and hoodies Tommy forgot to pick up were no where to be seen. Tommy suspected they were folded in a small pile inside of his closet, though.

Upon closer inspection, he realised his “shelves of important things” were arranged, too. The usually fallen over figures were stood up, much less dustier than usual, and his pile of Polaroids that he swore he’d hang up eventually were all attached to warm fairy lights, hung throughout the room.

“Looks like you did a little more than just ‘clean up my bed,’” Tommy said, raising a brow, “is this why you left earlier?”

Phil winced, “Yeah. Sorry about that, mate. Didn’t mean to hurt you, at all.”

Tommy shook his head, “It’s fine. ‘specially since I don’t need to do any cleaning now.”

They stood in silence for a moment. Tommy held Wilbur’s sweater behind him, though, there probably wasn’t much of a point hiding it from Phil. He usually doesn’t tease Tommy for these things as much as the other two.

Phil coughed, “Tom?”

The boy looked up at his name, “Hm?”

The man seemed to hesitate, for a moment. Which was odd, because Phil always seemed confident in his words, no matter what they were, “I’ve been thinking. You… I’ve been ignoring you. Making up you feel like you were less, haven’t I?” The man sounded dejected, head hung low.

His words struck a chord, and Tommy was surprised his father could sound so upset. A part of Tommy wanted to protest, wanted to shake Phil’s shoulders and tell him that he wasn’t in the wrong, and that it was Tommy who should be apologetic. There was a part of Tommy that didn’t want to have this conversation at all.

But some fraction of Tommy’s mind wanted to hear Phil speak. He wanted to know what was going through the older’s mind, how he felt about his role in hurting Tommy, however unwilling that role was. He knew Phil, and the man wouldn’t hurt him or purpose, he wouldn’t sit there and watch Tommy writhe on the floor, choking and sputtering. No, Phil would do what he could to help Tommy, to ground him. Wrap his son in two ginormous, invisible wings, the same wings he’d always paint with such love in his eyes, and the same shield he’d see in his fondest dreams. Wings forged to protect, wings forged to save. The man would look at Tommy, asking a silent question, patience above all else. Even if those skills were limited, Phil wouldn’t give up on him, any of them.

Tommy relaxed his posture, and gripped onto Wilbur’s sweater, willing comfort to spill from it, onto his hands and pooling on the floor, just so he could get through this easier.

The boy, with all the bravery he could muster, quickly nodded. Head snapping up and down once, and clicking back into place.

Phil noticed his silence, Tommy could tell. The man exhaled, as if he was holding in that breath for who knows how long, “Yeah. Thought so.”

Phil was tired, shoulders bruised from carrying his own weight, and carrying his son’s weight. His father was desperate to help his family, a single path seemed like the only thing he could handle. A single path that had him split himself so many ways, but there was no room for everyone. Phil’s breathing was shaky, and his eyelids were dropping, but his gaze never left the boy in front of him. Right now, all his attention was on Tommy, and all his words were for the younger.

From the corner of his eye, Tommy saw Phil straighten up, “Tommy, listen to me,” his words were firm, but not harsh. He wasn’t forcing onto Tommy a choice, rather, he was pleading with the younger to hear him out, hear his words no doubt filled with compassion and a wish to understand, “you are not, never have been, and never will be, less.” He said it with so much certainty, that Tommy looked up, meeting his father’s shaking gaze. Phil softened at this, his head tilted to the side, “You are my kid, magpie. My love doesn’t come at a price, and it doesn’t sway one way or another. You are not less, you are more than me and more to me, same goes for your brothers,” his eyes were gentle and open, regret and sincerity laced together.

He reached out a hand, expression letting Tommy know that it was optional, “I never, never, meant to stay away from you. I just saw how tired Tech and Wil were, guess I tunnel visioned a bit. To me, they needed help, they needed structure, and I tried to give it to them. But…” Phil’s fingers stiffened, “I forgot about you, and about the structure you needed. I forgot myself, too. I forgot how much of a toll burnout could take on you. I forgot how much I needed someone, too. And I forgot about you. I forgot how much I missed you, and how much you brighten up my life, and how I can count on you. But you’re a kid, Toms, and I don’t want to dump my brain on you. But that’s no excuse to leave you behind.” Tommy could absolutely deny it, and his father wouldn’t be mad nor would he hold it against the younger. The hand was an olive branch, a symbol of determination to make it up to the hurt. To ease the pain, whether he took the chance or not. Phil would keep his distance, but keep his eyes close, being there to fall back on whenever the younger felt like he wanted it, “I’m so sorry, my spark. I’m so sorry for making you feel like I left you,” his hand relaxed again, “I will never leave you. And I’ll never leave you like that, again.”

Stress lined his words, an undertone of fatigue.

“I’m sorry, my dear. I just wanted you to know that.”

Tommy looked at the tips of his father’s fingers, a little dazed. Slowly, he lifted his arm, reaching out a hand. Phil froze as the boy held onto his palm. Not quite holding, but still firm, still accepting, “Thanks, Dad,” Tommy spoke, quiet, a small smile creeping up his face, “Thank you,” he stepped forward, and leaned down to hug the man, the older returning it quickly, “I love you a lot. I hope you know you are the best man ever.”

Phil chuckled, voice wet, “Yeah, yeah. I love you, too.”

“The best man ever needs to know he’s got the best kid ever. And I will literally murder for you, father.”

“Tommy, the feeling is mutual, but I don’t think that’s gonna be necessary-“

Tommy pulled away, Wilbur’s sweater firmly in hand, “You gotta go make sure Wilbur and Techno aren’t setting the house on fire, or anything. I think Techno tried to make homemade crisps for movie night and it’s probably not going well.”

Phil rolled his eyes, “Oh, you know Techno is an amazing cook,” nevertheless, he backed away, “I wasn’t aware we were having a movie night. If I’d have known, I probably would’ve gotten us some ice cream or something. I think the other’s are a little sick of popcorn.” There was something knowing and fond in his voice, an upturn in his lips.

“Oh- well why didn’t you say that before?!” Tommy began to push Phil out of the door, “Go get us some ice cream, old man!” The boy squealed, before adding on a much quieter, “If it’s alright.”

The older batted Tommy’s hands away, “You’re a child. It’s alright, Toms. I’ll go get some,” Phil walked out the door. He opened his mouth and yelled, “I’m going out! I’ll be back in a few minutes! Techno’s in charge!”

There was a distinct Ha! followed by a very Wilbur-like groan.

“What!” Tommy whined. Phil only laughed and ran down the stairs.

The boy grumbled, but closed the door to his room and changed into comfier pants and Wilbur’s sweater.

Tommy let out a sigh, relief washing over him. It was overwhelming, so much so that he almost fell over. Tears stung in his eyes, but the blonde knew they weren’t sad. He knew, as they flowed, that they were tired and worn and relieved.

And, in that moment, there was only relief.

“Aww, Tommy!”

Tommy almost tripped as he abruptly stopped his walk to the living room. The boy covered his ears and tried not to scream as he heard that high pitched shrieking.

Tommy jumped as arms wrapped around him, his face being buried into a neck, “What-“

“You’re wearing my sweater!”

Ah. Wilbur.

Tommy immediately flushed, trying to escape his brother’s grasp, “I’m- you can’t prove anything-“

“It’s literally my favourite sweater-“

“Our favourite sweater.” Tommy corrected, giving up on his struggling and instead hugging his brother back,

He heard a squeal from above him, and the arms around him held on tighter.

“Wil- you’re gonna kill me-“

He felt a kiss being placed into his hair. Then, his face was tilted upwards, a kiss being placed onto his forehead and his nose, before Tommy was engulfed by Wilbur’s arms again. The boy was beet red, and he’s sure Wilbur knew exactly what he was doing, “You suck. I despise your entire existence. Die- I hate you so much, man.”

He felt Wilbur mess up his hair with the man’s chin, “If that were true, you wouldn’t be wearing my sweater right now, sundrop.”

Tommy scrunched up his face, quickly pulling away from Wilbur and running into the living room.

“Wh- Tommy!”

The blonde was made quickly aware that Wilbur was sprinting behind him, and so he quickened his pace, racing to the couch. Tommy’s eyes landed on Technoblade standing in front of the TV as he pulled their first movie of the night up, and he quickly jumped behind the man. Techno startled, and looked behind himself to see his little brother cowering, eyes locked onto the doorway.

“Tommy, what’re you doin’?” The pinkette said, voice deadpan, and eyes even more so.

Tommy shushed him, shutting up once Wilbur stepped foot into the room, “Tommy, I know you’re there.”

The blonde giggled, but quickly clamped a hand over his mouth.

“Come out so I can express my love before I throw Techno out of a window.” Tommy could hear the smile in his brother’s voice, and the boy only grinned, making it much harder to conceal his laughter.

“What do I have to do with this?” Techno said, voice ever so slightly distressed, “Throwing me out the window isn’t an incentive.”

“Tommy, if you don’t come out I’ll throw Techno and you out of the window.” Wilbur said cooly, ignoring the pinkette’s heh?!.

Tommy did not come out.

Wilbur sighed, “Alright, I’m gonna count to three.”

Oh.

Oh, no.

“One,”

The blonde panicked, jumping from foot to foot.

“Two,”

If he leaves now, Wilbur would surely run after him. The man would probably catch him, given the fact that his brother was much more athletic than the teen. But, if he just booked it, maybe he could get an out.

“Three.”

Tommy screeched, running away from his brothers, laughter trailing behind him. However, his plans were thwarted.

A hand grabbed onto his shirt, preventing him from going much further.

“Got you!” Wilbur was cackling, eyes alight with glee, “I caught a Tommy fish, Techno!”

“Remind me never to be in the same room as you two ever again.” Despite the harsh words, their brother was smiling, his eyes crinkled.

Wilbur turned back to Tommy and wrapped his arms around the boy, lifting him up into the air, “What- Wilbur let me go!”

“Nope!”

The blonde was squirming, however, it was a fruitless endeavour. Wilbur ran over to the couch and threw Tommy onto it. The boy closely resembled an upside turtle, in that moment. He was sputtering and catching his breath, sitting up with all the energy he could muster. Only to be pulled back into Wilbur’s arms, back to his chest.

Wilbur rested his chin on top of Tommy’s head, and started rocking them side to side, “Willll.”

“Hm?”

“I want ice cream.”

Wilbur huffed, “Phil isn’t even home, yet. There is no ice cream to want.”

The boy let out a disgruntled noise, but it only succeeded in making Wilbur melt, and bury his face in Tommy’s hair, “You can get ice cream the second Phil comes back.”

“The whole tub?”

“No.”

Tommy scowled.

Suddenly, there was the tell tale opening of the front door echoing through the house, and the three turned their heads around to Phil carrying two tubs of ice cream. Vanilla and salted caramel, “You guys seem to have made yourselves comfortable.” Phil said, amusement lining his tone.

Tommy rolled his eyes, ignoring Wilbur leaning more heavily on him, and made grabby hands for the ice cream, “Gimme, old man.”

“Let me get them into bowls first, Tommy.” The man said, walking into the kitchen to presumably set out the desert.

There was a dip in the couch, and Tommy looked over to see Techno slumping into his seat, remote in hand, “Hurry up, grandpa, we haven’t got all day!”

“Don’t rush him, Techie,” Wilbur piped up, voice a little too loud in Tommy’s ear, “He’ll break his back, if you do that.”

“I can still hear you!” Their father yelled from the kitchen, cackling.

“No, you can’t!”

Laughter filled the room, and Tommy was laughing right along with it. The boy leaned back into his brother’s chest, and let the warmth encompass him. He exhaled, shoulders relaxing, and was so tempted to close his eyes and just rest. But he wanted to save this moment, wanted to hold onto it for as long as he could. Tommy wanted to forget completely about what they were going to do tomorrow morning, and how he was going to get through the school day, or how his mind whispered ideas of this only being temporary, and that they’d go back to the same cold state they were in just today.

Tommy wanted to forget about that. All he wanted right now was to be with his family. To be loved by his family, to be held and kept and treasured.

Wilbur tightened his arms around the boy, “You feeling alright, sunshine?”

The man didn’t sound very concerned. He sounded calm, and content, and just as willing to forget about everything else and live in their little bubble of a universe for a little while longer. And, thinking about it, it seemed like Phil and Techno wanted the exact same thing. Techno’s posture was lax and comfortable, and he held back laughter as their father struggled to open the ice cream tubs in the kitchen. The look on Phil’s face when he got home was eased an alleviated. The man was happy that they’d get this time together, finally, after months of waiting.

They were all more than willing to shrink down their world, until it was just the four of them, just for this night. And, hopefully, they’d be more than willing to spend other nights like this, only wanting to be with each other.

“I… think so.” Tommy looked up, turning his head around slightly to look at his brother.

Wilbur smiled, soft and reassuring, “Anything you need, darling, and I’ll be right here.”

Tommy smiled brightly, and leaned further into the man’s chest, “I’ll be right here, too, Wil.”

Wilbur’s smile widened, and he leaned back onto the couch, taking Tommy with him.

It was nice.

Phil came into the living room, two bowls held in his hands, and two bowls being balanced very carefully on his arms. The man looked deep in concentration, so as to not drop anything. Tommy was very tempted to break that concentration by screaming, but that’d probably do no good, so he held back.

Phil crouched down in front of their snack filled table, and gently set the bowls down. The table held several drink cans, homemade crisps made by Technoblade himself, a bag of popcorn and a few glasses of water.

“Alright, move over.” Phil nudged Techno’s shoulder, and the pinkette moved closer to Tommy and Wilbur as their father sat down on the couch leaning forward and taking the bag of popcorn.

“I thought you said that they’d be tired of popcorn?” Their youngest said, voice already a little slurred.

Phil shrugged, “they’re tired of popcorn. I’m not.” The man reached into the bag, and took out a handful of popcorn, shoving it all in his mouth.

Techno snorted, “More potatoes for me.” And he took a potato chip, crunching into it.

“Can we at least start the movie before we eat everything?” Wilbur said, nudging Tommy to get him a bowl of ice cream. Tommy did so, and got himself a can of coke.

“Maybe I don’t want to watch Up for the tenth time.” Despite this statement, Techno pressed play on the remote, and the bright colours and music of the movie began to spread throughout the room.

Tommy couldn’t remember the last time he felt this whole. His family surrounded him, rosey cheeks and gooey eyes. It was warm. It was so warm.

Tommy felt happy. Clicked into place. He felt like he was home, after a long, gruelling storm, it felt like he was home.

Phil’s short cackles, Techno’s fond eye rolls, Wilbur’s comforting presence.

and Tommy smiled, wide and sweet. Loved and loving. Complete.

He wouldn’t trade these moments for anything. Anything at all.

In the morning, they’d all wake up curled against each other. Phil would get up and get ready for work, kissing all three of his son’s foreheads and promising to have this all figured out. Promising to sort it out, not alone, never alone, his posture alleviated. Techno would get up, and start to prepare his breakfast. The kettle would ring through the entire house, and the pinkette would remind Tommy to come up to his room later on in the day, to which the blonde would smile and nod, excitement in his eyes. Wilbur would fall completely onto the couch, taking Tommy with him, and complain that it was too early and that he and Tommy should sleep in for a little longer.

Techno would huff, endeared. But Tommy would move so that his face could snuggle into Wilbur’s neck, and his arms would wrap around the man’s back. The boy would mutter something, and slowly start to drift back to sleep.

Wilbur would mumble a, “Love you.” and Tommy would respond with a, “Love you, too.”

The man would kiss Tommy’s head, before drifting off himself. And Tommy would feel loved. And he would give that love tenfold.

And he would sleep, warmed by his home.

Warmed by his family.