Work Text:
It sounded like a forest, typing away at the computer screen that he’d stared at for hours at a go. The house was unusually quiet on a Thursday evening, and he watches as the skies start turning a dark prussian blue, spreading out across the amber canvases below it. He checks his phone, but there had been no replies. Eh whatever, they’ll call me if they need anything.
A whistle of the Kettle startles him out of his thoughts, and he turns the stove off with a sigh, watching as steam fills the kitchen and the tea leaves start to inflate from the presence of water. The weather was chilly, nibbling at the tips of his nose when he leans against the balcony’s railings, staring off into a sea of shadows that glow only in the presence of the moon.
He feels a soreness overtake his body: his chest, his neck, his shoulders. Techno tells him that he works too much, that might be the reason why. His bones crack and his muscles twitch more often than he had been used to, but if it's at the cost of providing a comfortable life for his family then he’d be willing to work harder at any given time.
But sometimes, Phil does wonder if he’s actually providing his boys the comfortable life that he hopes they get to experience, or if he’s just a bad parent with no experience whatsoever.
The taste of Pine lingers in his mouth, clinging onto the tongue that is used to speak with a passion that Phil does not have. He has to pretend, to act like he’s never worried when he is, never show his true colours because he doesn’t want to scare the others. He worries about Wilbur’s reckless night habits, about Tommy’s distant stare, about Techno’s jumpy reactions to simple basic touches.
Sometimes, Phil decides, there are things that you don’t have to share with the people you love.
So when Techno notices the shortage of muscle relaxants, or Wilbur’s noticed the clumps of hair that have clogged the bathroom’s drainage system, they don’t have to know the full picture.
Phil doesn’t want them to know the full picture.
When he had gotten back those medical results, it had been on a similar day to this. The boys were fast asleep, leaving Phil to mull in his own thoughts and feelings. He had leaned against the copper of the balcony railings, rubbing his temples slowly and steadily. Everything else had been a blur, except for that one singular word. The word that made his knees jitter and his breath come short.
Positive.
It was positive.
And then he closed his eyes and tried to feel anything, anything at all. But it had been all numb.
Phil hates keeping secrets. He wants to be honest, to be able to burrow his sorrows with his loved ones and wanted them to do the same, and god he hoped that they will forgive him when they figure out what he had been hiding all this while.
The moon rises quietly, and he feels the trees whisper faint pleasantries against his ears. It sounded like a forest rather than a creak in his footsteps. Phil is too deep into his thoughts to be made aware of the presence behind him. Nonetheless, he still smells the boy’s honeydew shampoo much before he notices the presence walk into the tightly placed balcony.
“Phil I think we might have ran out of ibuprofen again.” Tommy mumbles as he rubs his eyes, black and blue from restlessness. He pauses however when he notices the elder’s tilted smile. “Was this not a good time or?”
Phil opened his arms out, a sign that Tommy himself knew all to well. “Come here for a sec, I need to talk to you about something”
It’s only a few seconds after that the heat of the younger radiates off onto himself, and he feels himself melt into the touch. “Is this about that thing with Tubbo?”
And he feels himself let out a laugh, warm enough that Tommy understands the lack of malicion. “No, it’s not. Don’t worry buddy.”
Phil pulls apart, only to look up at the boy’s figure. Tommy’s eyes were always the same baby blue that it had been for the last 5 years, and he feels himself catch a breath at the thought that they were all growing up right in front of his eyes. His lips were held at a neutral stance, though they were slightly chapped from the dry air around them, the same pair that used to spill out meaningless threats on campfire Saturdays. It felt just like yesterday.
Just like yesterday, huh?
“But ya gotta promise me that you’re not gonna tell the other two about this, ‘Kay?”
Phil looked at the boy with weary eyes, watching the switches in emotions that flicker back from anger to sorrow to anxiety. The fist that clutched those medical reports so tightly were twitching vividly, tearing almost into the blank Manila folders
“Why? Phil why- I thought we were family?” And there it was, burning hot tears that glisten pale skin under a midnight sky. He should have expected it, should have prepared for it but now he’s here and he has no idea how he’s supposed to unfuck a situation like this.
“It’s not always easy, telling you guys things that I’m afraid might hurt you-”
“ This, this is hurting you! I care. Wil and Techno, they care as well!”
They hadn’t fought in such a long time. They haven’t felt like this in such a long time.
“You know how much you mean to me, you have to know. I don’t,”
A whimper, soft enough that it is left as an imprint in Phil’s mind.
“I can’t lose you too.”
It sounded like a forest, white static running through Phil’s head, void of thought other than a paternal instinct that he’d engrave onto the depths of his mind.
“I can’t lose you either, toms.”
“You, I… we’re all going to get through this, together like old times right?”
And he knew that he couldn’t give the answer that he wanted, so he’d give the answer that he needed. With the same smile that faked all that courage for the past few years, he wears it proudly, concealing a truth he knows Tommy isn’t ready to hear
“Until the end of time.”