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(Tubbo is 15 in this, Tommy is 14 and Wilbur is 22. Phil is still just old man)
Going to school had many downsides. Tubbo believed that the worst one had to be how quickly illness spread.
One kid would be sent home after throwing up, then within the next few days the whole tutor group would end up bedridden.
Today, Tubbo found himself to be the first inflicted with a bad bout of gastro. The 15 year old had been sat in English when he began to feel really sick.
One spillage and a trip to the pastoral office later, he sat on a comfy chair in a quiet room, tightly gripping a paper bag, his skin as pale as..well, the bag he was holding.
He knew it wouldn't be long until either Phil or Wilbur came to pick him up, but he kinda hoped they would hurry up.
Being sick and outside of your room is never fun, never mind being sick and at school. The teen fought hard to stop the tears in his eyes, just feeling like utter shit.
He didn't even look up when he heard the door open, gripping the bag in one hand with his other arm wrapped across his stomach, hunching over.
"Hey Tubbo." Tommy greeted quietly, placing both their bags on the floor and closing the door behind him.
Tubbo just focused on taking deep breathes, only letting out the occasional whimper.
"Wilbur should be here soon, don't worry." Tommy soothed his older brother, crouching beside him and rubbing his back.
Tubbo just nodded slightly, too focused on not making a mess to concentrate on what he was being told.
A few more minutes passed and the oldest of the trio arrived, having driven in the more comfortable Nissan he was insured on.
"Come on, let's get home." Wilbur said gently, helping Tubbo up and wrapping his arm around his shoulders, Tommy carrying both his and Tubbo's school bags.
After a very slow walk accompanied by Tubbo spitting up some bile in the car park, the three made it to the car and got into their seats.
Tubbo always sat in the backseat, since both Wilbur and Tommy needed the legroom. He didn't complain though, and instead lay across the backseat.
"Just say if I need to pull over, alright?" Wilbur informed his younger brother, beginning the short drive back home.
The journey was rather uneventful, as Tubbo managed to keep everything contained until getting home and rushing to the bathroom.
Wilbur and Tommy decided to leave him for a moment, seeing as it was a stomach bug and they weren't entirely sure of the symptoms yet.
However, Wilbur went upstairs and retrieved a fresh pair of pyjamas from Tubbo's drawers, then knocked on the bathroom door.
"I've got you some pyjamas, I'm just gonna put them on the wash basket." He was sure to always warn whoever was in the bathroom before he opened the door, never once looking in.
He never waited for a response, and instead went back downstairs to make some tea and fill a hot water bottle.
Years of practice with his younger brothers made him a pro when they were like this, and even when they were both teenagers he still felt the need to take care of them.
It wasn't long before Tubbo emerged from the bathroom, and Tommy headed upstairs to their shared bedroom to keep an eye on him.
The sick teen lay on his side, sweating and shaking. Tommy wasn't entirely sure what to do, and sat on his own bed, silently waiting for Wilbur.
He appeared shortly after, and sat beside his sick brother. "Phil has got some stuff to do, so I'm in charge of making sure you two don't die."
Tommy nodded, quite happy at the fact he got out of school early.
Wilbur gently nudged Tubbo's shoulder so he'd lie on his back, placing the hot water bottle on his stomach.
Tubbo instinctively curled back up on himself, hugging the hot water bottle tightly and whimpering as his stomach cramped.
"If your up to it, I brought a drink up as well." Wilbur informed the younger male, soothingly rubbing his side.
"Not yet." Tubbo mumbled, his stomach felt far too unsettled to try and drink anything, he could barely move without needing to vomit.
Wilbur nodded in understanding, not wanting to force him to do anything when he felt like this.
Instead, Wilbur picked up the TV remote and pressed on the numbers ‘4’ and ‘7’, knowing that Tubbo loved watching food network when he was ill.
It might have been the gentle voices, or maybe he was just dreaming about what food he could eat when he was better.
Still, the teen physically relaxed with the added background noise, no longer hugging himself as tightly as possible, but still keeping some of the pressure.
Tommy shuffled a little so his back was against the wall, then he began watching the channel quietly.
Some time passed, and Wilbur wasn’t sure whether or not his younger brother had fallen asleep- he knew his youngest had.
In order to test his theory, he gently brushed the hair that had fallen on Tubbo’s forehead. His theory was proven wrong as Tubbo smirked a little.
Wilbur exhaled gently, beginning to rub his side again. “How you feeling now?”
Tubbo’s shoulders shifted slightly, indicating he was shrugging.
“Still very bad.” He mumbled, moving his legs a little and pushing away the hot water bottle that had now cooled.
Wilbur sighed. He didn’t think time could pass much slower.
The sound of the TV and Tommy’s gentle snores served as a reminder that time was actually passing, and they weren’t stuck in a continuous loop.
Tubbo sat up, hair flopping over as he let his head droop.
“You okay?” Wilbur asked, his voice thick with concern as well, he didn’t want to be covered in vomit.
Tubbo nodded, stretching. He then lay back down, this time across Wilbur’s lap.
The older male couldn’t help but chuckle lightly, readjusting himself a little so they could both be comfortable.
“Feeling clingy i guess?” He questioned, only receiving a quiet groan in response.
Wilbur left him to it, using one hand to mess with Tubbo’s hair, and the other idly scrolling through his phone.
Eventually, Tubbo drifted into a light doze. Wilbur took note of the time, then carefully climbed out to stretch his legs.
For the added measure, he closed the bedroom door as he headed out into the hallway, just to protect the two sleepy bois (inc) from anything that could wake him.
He planned on preparing some fresh chicken noodle soup, seeing as both he and Tommy enjoyed it and it could help settle Tubbo’s stomach.
What he didn’t realise, was just how high Tubbo’s temperature was.
So when he was accompanied by a sobbing, blabbering 15 year old, he wasn’t sure what to think.
“No! You don’t understand- they’re gonna get us!” Tubbo desperately tried to explain, rubbing his hands through his hair.
Wilbur wrapped his arms around his brother, shushing him and rubbing his back.
“Tubbo, it’s just a dream, alright?” He soothed, keeping his voice low as he swayed gently.
They stayed like that for a few minutes, just as Tubbo worked on his breathing.
Wilbur sat the boy down at the table, leaving for a moment then returning with a bucket- he wasn’t dumb, he knew what was coming.
And just like clockwork, Tubbo threw up again, only this time it brought him relief.
“This time, you can sleep on the sofa. That way, you’ll know where I am.” Wilbur explained as he helped him lie down, draping the blanket over his legs.
Tubbo grumbled something in response, before drifting back to sleep.
Teenagers...too young to be seen as adults but too old to be seen as children.