Chapter Text
Tommy's knees snapped from beneath him as he sauntered to the floor, the wood under him creaked as his body came crashing down. Draped along his body was Wilbur’s coat, which clouded over his red knitted cardigan that was gifted to him by his adoptive father when he was younger, both of which were soaked with the rain, blood and tears. Many thoughts crowded his headspace as he lay on the floor next to a cracked mirror in the corner of his Uncle’s House. He missed him, too. He wishes he would hide him away from the world and shelter him like he did during…his trip away with Dream. He wanted to hide away again, go back to the good times of L’manburg when Wilbur was still here and…oh…Wilbur. Big Brother Wilbur. Who had left him once again, I suppose he was angry at him? He never used to be angry at anyone but Wilbur had left him. It was Wilbur’s fault. It wasn’t him, he didn’t do anything wrong, he can't of, he was good.
Tommy’s breathing became faster than it’s usual pace and his chest began to ache as his tear ducts filled up and threatened to pour over, and they did, as a sob wretched his entire body. Tommy was reminded of his younger years at that moment, when he had had a bad nightmare and he would curl up and cry until Wilbur or Techno would come comfort him and offer him a spot in their bed for the night. Tommy longed for either of them to do the same right now. He wanted his brothers right now.
Another sob escaped as he wrapped Wilbur’s coat tighter, as if it would bring him back. Wilbur’s coat stank of cigarettes, a bad habit of his brothers, Tommy used to hate the smell, despise it. But right now it smelt of home, it smelt of L’manburg and singing around the fire, it smelt of cooking potatoes with Techno and baking with Niki, it smelt of the open fire of his childhood home. It smelt like Wilbur.
Tommy peered his head over the collar to see the small cracks of the mirror in front of him, reflecting his current state. As Tommy peered in and saw his red rimmed eyes and mess of hair he was reminisced of his younger self, who used to have that sparkle in their eyes and that smile on their face. Sure, he was naïve and arrogant as a young boy but secretly longed to be like that again. To look up to Wilbur and see a hero and an inspiration instead of a tired old man who had a severe nicotine addiction and could collapse at any moment.
Tommy cried that night until Phil found him in Techno’s old lodge and placed him up on the sofa instead of the hard floor. He sighed as he put a blanket over the top of Tommy and kissed him on the forehead.
1 out of 3 sons left.