Chapter Text
Tommy lay in his bed, his clock flashed red with the numbers 8:00 and Tommy knew he should get up, and he would, but he felt like the bed was trapping him in its softness, it felt like quicksand but more comfortable. It was so, so comfortable.
Tommy let out a half-groan half-yell type noise and punched his mattress before rolling onto the floor. Why where beds always most comfortable on
weekday mornings!?
Tommy wrapped the blanket further around himself and curled up into an even smaller ball on the floor. Then crawled his way to his closet and attempted to open a drawer with his mouth. Which did not work. Tommy let out a loud wail. Why was life so hard!?
"Tommy, what the fuck are you doing up there!? Making orcas fuck each other!? Jesus bloody Christ." Well. His brother was awake. Hooray.
"Well, Wilbur, you don't seem- Ah shit!" Tommy swore as his un-thought of comeback was interrupted by him hitting his head on the drawer. He doubted Wilbur was even listening to him anymore anyway.
"Ugh." Tommy rubbed his head as he pulled out his pants and jumper. Then lazily swung his arm up to pull himself up by the handle of his closet. He then swung it open, somehow managing to swing himself to the other side of the room at the same time. He made his way back to the closet, not having the energy to stand up, so he just shook and tugged at his shirt until he managed to shake the shirt off the hanger. Great, now he finally had all his clothes ready.
...oh my god, where the FUCK WAS HIS TIE!?!?!?
- – — • — – -
So yeah, that was the story of how Tommy learned that this was going to be a bad day. And that was saying something considering he had a bad life in the first place.
...
Did he have a bad life? Obviously it wasn't a good life... at least he personally didn't think it was a good one... maybe he was just victimising himself. Of course there where people in worse situations. There where always people in worse situations! His existence didn't even matter compared to the greater universe, but no ones lives mattered to the greater universe, and if no one existed... then the greater universe wouldn't even be that great!
Maybe Tommy was overthinking things. Maybe none of this even mattered.
This probably wasn't a good place to think about deep shit like "the greater universe" anyway seeing as it was the middle of maths class.
So instead of thinking about his place in the universe, Tommy started kicking the back of Ranboo's chair repetitively till class ended.
And when class ended, that of course meant walking all the way to the next class. Between the bustle of the students who didn't have class at the current moment.
Tommy hated being alone while other people interacted. Like right now. Now was a time when he was the only one not talking to someone, it brung this strange, horrible feeling. Like he was outside of something, looking into a bubble. It almost felt like a strange, twisted up sense of nostalgia. Loneliness. Tommy couldn't simply walk to a different class without being lonely, he guessed being lonely was often more of a constant feeling but still... it felt particularly bad here. When he was in class he didn't feel like this. At lunch he didn't feel like this.
Tommy's life must be in some type of fucking definition of a bad life.
- – — • — – -
Tommy arrived home to find Wilbur passed out on the table, blue chalk-like substance coating his hands and sprinkled all over the surface of the table.
"Wilbur?" Tommy asked, he edged closer to his unconscious brothers form. "Wilbur, I'm home."
He shook Wilbur's arm, startling him awake, his head shot up, bloodshot eyes looking confused
"Wh-what!?" Wilbur asked. His voice sounded unusually raspy. His voice was something Wilbur was famous for, it always sounded so smooth and professional. Now it sounded more like Tommy's, but quieter.
Tommy stared at him. "I just found you unconscious on the dining table." Tommy stated. Simply and bluntly. He was too tired to be sympathetic.
Wilbur waved his hand nonchalantly. "Yeah, yeah. Whatever."
Silence proceeded as Wilbur took out a plastic bag...
and started shoving the blue, sandy substance...
Into it.
...
"Wilbur, I can't keep ignoring this anymore."
"What?" Wilbur asked.
Another moment of silence passed (though not as long as last time) as Wilbur shoved his drugs into a bag and Tommy stared at him.
"I can't keep pretending you're not... you're a fucking piece of shit, Wilbur. I'm not going to just ignore the fact you're fucking snorting that cheap ripoff of cocaine."
"I mean- that's kind of what you've been doing for the past few months." Was Wilbur's response. His tone was lazy, like he was too tired to deal with this, or he just didn't care in the first place. Did he seriously have the audacity to... act like this was just a small deal!? Tommy had been mentally preparing for this confrontation for weeks. And Wilbur was just going to brush it away!?
"I don't fucking care! I wasn't going to live in denial forever cause now is now and you've had it a long time coming!" Tommy yelled.
At least Wilbur was looking mildly agitated now, "Listen, is it really that bad just wanting-"
Tommy glared at Wilbur. "Stop it! Just admit that you're doing it already and that it's wrong!"
Wilbur snorted, trying to mask his uncomfortableness, "Come on, what's so 'wrong' about it then!"
"You have literally pretty much given up on thirteen-year-old child."
"Oh, sorry I thought you weren't a child."
"THAT'S A FUCKING JOKE! Don't use it as one one of your stupid-ass excuses! I'VE ONLY JUST ENTERED MY TEEN YEARS FOR FUCKS SAKE!"
"WELL YOU DONT KNOW WHAT IT'S LIKE RAISING A CHILD WHILE STILL BEING ONE. You've only just become a teenager!? Well I've only just become an adult but I don't feel like one! Have you any fucking idea how hard it was to raise you! Just raising a normal child would be hard, but no! It had to get even worse! It was fucking you that I was stuck with." Tears started running down Wilburs cheeks. "Loud, annoying, problematic Tommy fucking Craft. And no one even cares that I attempted to do anything, it's always 'poor Tommy' or 'Technoblade is so great' but I've been forced to raise you because that poor fucking excuse of a father! No one has ever done anything worthwhile for me since mum left despite me working my ass off! You fucking walked into the bathroom and saw it! You where old enough to know it wasn't healthy but you just turned your back on me like everybody does! If you were so goddamn worried about me, maybe you could have intervened earlier! God, I wish you were never born! I wish I was never born!"
Wilbur... said that he wished he wished he was never born. Somehow... that hurt more than the fact that he didn't want Tommy to be born. Wilbur buried his face in his hands as he started sobbing.
And for the third time, there was silence.
But this time, there wasn't any tension, it didn't feel like someone was about to say anything, there wasn't any ticking time bomb that would explode into a mess of emotions, because that bomb had already blown up. The only things audible where Wilbur's sobs and the sound of the storm raging outside.
Was Tommy really that much of a nuisance? Was he really that much harder to deal with than other kids?
Wilbur's crying seemed to be coming to an calming down. He stared at the floor and sniffled. "I j-just... need something to escape this hellhole of a world."
Tommy wanted to walk over and hug his brother but he'd feel stupid doing that after making him cry in the first place.
"I'm sorry."
Wilbur glanced up at Tommy. Then stared at him for a while longer. "Would you like some blue?".
...Seriously? After all that!? Wilbur was just going to...
"You have got to be fucking kidding me." Tommy had hoped after
Tommy felt as if he had just lost all the progress he'd made with Wilbur over the last hour. Maybe he had. Without saying another word, Tommy started walking out the living room door. Both the brothers felt like they should say something more but neither could think of anything else to say. So Tommy exited the room and went up to his bedroom.
Tommy felt so, so tired after that whole fiasco. Everything he said just led up to his brother offering him drugs. At least he finally realised that he's of only a failure of a friend, but also a failure of a brother too. He was finally opening his fucking eyes to what a fucking nuisance he is. He was so so tired of thinking, yelling, just- everything. So he cried himself to sleep.