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With a final hum, the song was over, leaving Wilbur in the uncomfortable silence of his room. The only noise he could hear was his own breathing, it being harsher and heavier than before he had began.
He clutched his guitar to try and ground himself, since looking ahead only made the darkness of his room stretch out and begin to leak down from the ceiling and drip onto his head.
A breath in, a breath out.
Didn’t work.
His nails scratched against the wood of the instrument, one of his nails pricking an accidental note, which only worsened his state. His teary eyes widened, his head looking around the room as he swore something was looking at him.
He didn’t know what, why or how anything could be looking at him, but the mere chance of it was enough to terrify him to his core. Once again, he tried to calm himself down, this time by singing the song again, as if that wasn’t what had made him so upset in the first place.
His personal album sure touched on some deep topics, so it was only inevitable that it would drag him down into a mindset that would be almost impossible to crawl out of by himself.
He tried to forget, tried to continue singing, but God, it was so hard. He was fighting against himself, against his shaking body that could barely hold the guitar, his eyes that could barely see the instrument... his heart that could barely take much more of this.
A breath in, a breath out.
No relief came. Only broken tears and sobs of the unknown future.
Bad thoughts clouded in his head like a child mindlessly scribbling on a blank piece of paper, the scribbling only getting louder and bigger as time ticked by. God, his voice sounded awful. His shaky words mixed with his bubbling, pathetic tears, his tone being practically untunable due to the pain in his heart that was scratching its way up from his chest...
He... couldn’t take it anymore.
Yet, he kept singing.
Wilbur had a particular bad habit at trying things until they came crashing down, no matter how bad the consequences were. Sure, it was bad enough to gamble with other people’s feelings, but... his own mental health? That was too far. Yet even though he realised it, he kept going. Just in spite of himself.
It was lucky that he wasn’t able to continue for long before he was abruptly stopped, a shrill, yet shaky yell scrambling out of his throat as the bedroom door opened. The light coming from the hallway was probably supposed to symbolise hope, yet he couldn’t see it this way, or at least not at first.
He looked at the light with more fear than the darkness, it only fading away slightly as he realised who had opened it in the first place.
“...Will, are you alright?”
Tommy shakily questioned the older man with a tilted head, his eyebrows being stuck in a rather puzzled expression. He was certainly concerned due to seeing Wilbur so afraid, so... broken, yet he didn’t really know how exactly to bring it up without tripping over his words.
A silence slid across the distance between them, Wilbur probably hoping in the back of his mind that it would be enough to make the socially awkward kid leave him alone. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case.
Tommy took a step forward, Wilbur letting out a gasp to himself as he heard the creak of the floorboard, with inevitably concerned Tommy even more. Quiet breaths were shared between the two, the only difference being that Wilbur’s were so much worse. So pained, so frantic, so... afraid.
“I uh... I wasn’t able to stream ‘cause Tubbo’s sick so I was kinda just... listening to you singing the whole time before you... uh... well you sounded pretty upset, y’know.”
Tommy trailed off at the end, his eye contact now being averted from Wilbur, since as expected, he wasn’t the best at discussing things as serious as this.
Wilbur’s heart felt like it had toppled off a building as he heard those words, for multiple reasons, believe it or not. Sure, it was a bit anxiety inducing that Tommy had been listening to him singing the whole time, but at the same time, it was almost... comforting.
On the other hand, God, he felt like shit.
For what may have been the first time Tommy had listened to him sing raw recordings in his room, he had to hear the one time that it was too much. The one time he cracked, lost it, lost... hope.
He could see it now, the calm expression on Tommy’s face as he listened to the calming tune suddenly get more and more uncomfortable before it became worried, since the only thing he would have been able to hear after some point would have been shaky sobs and loud breaths that dripped of panic and desperation for help.
Finally, Wilbur looked up at the boy with half closed eyes, a sniffle of a laugh leaving him as he outstretched his arms, his fingers grabbing inward once, as he was signalling for a hug.
It was so hard not to cry then and there. So hard.
Tommy was of course confused, since Wilbur wasn’t really the kinda guy for hugs in the first place, especially with him of all people. But... this was different, no? The smile on his face, it wasn’t one of happiness, was it? It was stretching across his face, sure, but God, it was stretching with desperation. He didn’t want this.
He needed this.
Tommy didn’t rush the hug as to not alarm Wilbur, so he slowly made his way over, his eyes watching as Wilbur moved the guitar off of his lap to make room for the embrace, him now looking back at Tommy again that same desperation being in his eyes.
It... hurt.
Did he mean for it to?
Tommy stopped, standing before Wilbur with a bit lip, it only being bit harder as he saw Wilbur’s smile disappear, leaving a hollow, broken expression of betrayal behind. Fuck. He couldn’t take this anymore.
With a defined sniffle of sadness, Tommy shoved himself onto Wilbur, tears now dribbling down his face, since he wasn’t able to hide his concern any longer. It has been so hard to express it any other way, really.
The way he was concerned about him being in his room for so long with the lights off for so many days recently, the way he was worried about him sleeping in and always missing breakfast... so many little things that only added up to this moment. The moment he broke. The moment he... heard a noise he had never heard before. The moment it had made him feel something he had never felt before.
He gripped onto Wilbur hard, his hands desperately clutching onto his shirt as his body shook, as if it was waiting to be held and kept safe. He had shoved his head into Wilbur’s shoulder, since he didn’t want him to see him like this. He can hear his sniffles all he wants, but no way was he letting him see how his tears were endlessly dribbling down his cheeks, no way no how.
Wilbur... didn’t expect this to happen.
At first, he felt guilty for making Tommy upset, it genuinely making him second guess himself since he now wasn’t sure if he was an accidental manipulator or not. Was he? Was it just his looks or was it by his words too? Would he have to rewrite everything? Everythi-
No.
It’s okay.
He choked up as he felt Tommy clutch onto him, his own body shaking as the younger boy did it more than he ever could, it being almost terrifying that he was able to feel his fear whether he wanted to or not.
He waited longer than he should have, sure, but he hugged him back, tightly at first of course. He soon let go a little and began running his hand across the boy’s back, it being comforting to him to feel the shivers slowly die down overtime.
He gave himself no time to clear out his throat as he finally spoke to him, so it came out horribly hoarse at first, before his voice inevitably corrected itself to sound... well, like him I suppose.
“I’m fine, Tommy. I’m f...fine.”
He waited for the words to sink in before he spoke again, it not taking long, but it felt like hours before he allowed himself to say any more.
“...I don’t know how to make it up to you yet but... you made the best decision when you chose to check on me. I’m so, so proud of you, Tommy. So proud.”
He closed his eyes as his expression curled into a comforting smile, since he heard nothing but a babbling mess of tears on his shoulders, all of it being completely incomprehensible, due to however many tears were collected on Tommy’s face right now.
He laughed of course, but did one final thing before he was able to do so.
A final breath in, a final breath out.