Work Text:
He hated Pogtopia. The stress of fighting for his own nation made Tommy want to curl over on a nice warm bed, and only wake up when it was all over. It had become a constant. Waking up felt way too hard. Scraps and bruises covered every inch of his body, coal and dust filled his lungs, the light down in the ravine was always dim, and the violent shaking kept him from thinking straight. He wished it would stop.
Wilbur has a way out though. Tucked neatly in Wilbur’s pocket in the inside of his trench coat, he has a small box filled with cigarettes. During the war for L’manburg's independence, Wilbur smoked them rarely. He had a few when needed but never more than two a week. “It’s a reward” he told Tommy, “I do a lot, I deserve a break.” Tommy never liked when Wilbur smoked, but he would never tell him that.
Lately Wilbur's has been smoking a pack a day. Tommy worries for his brother, but still does not step in. The boy wonders, ‘how do they even work?’ and ‘do they work for everyone?’ or more, ‘would they work for me?’
The blond marched through the dark halls of Pogtopia looking for his older brother. Wilbur had left a good 15 minutes ago, but since Wilbur never bothered to tell anyone, Tommy didn’t know that.
Since the boy couldn’t find the man in the main area, he decided to check his room.
Stepping into Wilbur's room he was hit with a gust of chilled air. Why was it so cold in Wilbur's room? The boy looked around but saw no sign of his brother. But he did notice his bag, open and discarded in the corner. ‘One look couldn’t hurt’ he thought to himself.
The blond quickly rushed to the bag and opened it as if it held all the money in the world. There wasn't much to see in reality. A sword, a picaxe, a few arrows, a bow and a random assortment of blocks. Wilbur developed a bad habit of leaving his weapons in his spare bag instead of in his inventory.
Under all this was a box, a box Tommy was all too familiar with. He picked up the light cardboard object and put it in the center of his palm. It didn’t weigh much, but to Tommy it felt like a brick. He flipped the lid open and found a good amount of the sticks left inside.
What if he took one?
There was enough there for Wilbur to not notice if he did take one.
The boy gently snuck his hand in the box and grabbed a stick. He put the box down and inspected the white and orange stick now laying in his palm as the box had just a moment ago. Tommy did have a lighter.
The small red rectangular object stood within his pants pocket. It was a gift from Tubbo. The brunet had even engraved ‘TommyInnIt’ into the side of it. It was wonky and wasn’t the best job he'd ever seen, but Tommy cherished that lighter, even more so now in Pogtopia where he could only see Tubbo in rare moments when the pair snuck away from Schlatt’s and Wilbur’s watch.
He reached his hand in and pulled out the small item. He held out his arms far from his body, with the lighter in one hand and the cigarette in the other.
Would Wilbur even mind? The brunet had shown less and less interest in Tommy's hijinks as time went on down here.
The younger missed the way the older would jokingly complain, or even insult him, for being loud and annoying.
Wilbur didn’t seem to joke now, and when he did Tommy feared they weren't actually jokes anymore.
But being ignored by his older brother had its perks. For instance, no one would notice if the boy tried one of the many cigarettes Wilbur had laying around.
So Tommy started up the lighter with a ‘click!’. Watching the flame flicker rapidly, he brought the stick up to his lips and inserted it in. He had watched his brother do it hundreds of times, but it felt so much more complicated when he attempted to try. The boy slowly moved the lighter up to the butt end of the cigarette. But before Tommy could get the chance to light it, he heard a loud ‘bang!’ from the door hitting the stone wall as Wilbur stepped into the room.
“What are you doing.” Wilbur asked in a harsh tone. It was more of an order than a question.
“Wil I-”
“Why do you have that” Wilbur took a few more steps closer to Tommy. The boy dropped the lighter and cigarette and dashed to the wall furthest away from Wilbur.
“I-I was just… looking” Tommy started to shake slightly. He never liked to make Wilbur upset
“Just looking?” Wilbur said in a sarcastic tone as he stepped even closer to where Tommy had been sitting moments ago.
“Y-yes I-” Tommy shut up as Wilbur bent down, picking up the cigarette Tommy had stolen and standing back up.
“I just thought that-that it- I wasn’t thinking Wil, I'm sorry. I didn’t mean to go through your things'' The boy hugged his middle, silently waiting for the mans response. But the man didn’t speak. He brought the cigarette closer to his face then opened his fingers and let the stick drop to the floor. The brunet then brought up his foot and slammed it back down onto the object laying in front of him, crushing it completely. Tommy watched in intrigued horror.
“I don’t ever want to see you try anything like that again, you hear me?” Tommy took a tiny step away from the wall and got closer to Wilbur.
“No- I mean y-yes, of course” The man was staring daggers into the younger's eyes, but softened apone hearing the boy's voice shaking with worry and fear
“These things aren't good for you” He said more gently this time
“We wouldn't want you ending up like me now would we?” Wilbur's half hearted attempt at humor was not landing.
“I’m going back out, I need more materials. You’ll be fine on your own?” For a moment It sounded genuine. The boy looked up to the man's eyes now. They still carried the same dark frightening glare, the boy looked away quickly.
“Y-” Tommy attempted a responds, voice cracking in the process.
“Yeah I'll be fine”
“Good, see you soon” The man bent down again, grabbing the box of cigarettes and forcefully stuffing them into his inside pocket. And with that the brunet swiftly turned around quickly leaving the dark pathway and running up the stars out of the raven.
Tommy took a moment to collect himself on the wall of Wilbur’s room.
Had Wilbur meant what he said? The man hadn’t carried for almost anything as of recently. Was Wilbur genuinely concerned?
Tommy felt his heart flutter for a moment.
That was Wilbur. That was the man whom the boy had grown to love, that was his brother.
With the information that that Wilbur was still there Tommy swiftly ran to his room. It was getting late and he had to get up early if they wanted to start their new plan in the morning. But the boy slept better the tiniest bit that night knowing if, no when, this was all over, the man could be brought back and things could go back to normalcy. Wilbur would tell him he was prude regularly, and hopefully he could stop relying on those dirty deadly sticks that are cigarettes.
Tommy swung open the door and stepped outside into the bright morning. His body aching as it always did when he awoke.
The boy reached into his pocket pulling out a small box and reaching inside and taking out a cigarette. The blond put the stick up to his lips and closed them around the object. He reached into his other pocket and pulled out a small grey lighter, it's a miracle the lighter hasn’t died yet.
He flicked it a few times to get it to start, then brought it up to the end of the stick standing out of his mouth. The boy breathed in the smoke, letting it fill his lungs before taking the stick back out and exhaling. Tommy watched the smoke disappear into the morning sky. The sound of the door swinging open fills his ears.
“Ready to get going?” The taller man stands besides the shorter. He looks up at the man that just walked out standing next to him.
Wilbur looks him in the eyes waiting for his response.
Tommy himself is also waiting.
Waiting for Wilbur to tell him to spit out the cigarette. Waiting for him to forcefully grab the cigarette out of his mouth and stomp it into the ground. He's waiting for him to scream in his face about how much he's disappointing him for doing this.
He's waiting for all the insults in the world.
But they never come.
Wilbur gives him a charming smile and starts walking down the path eager to get onto the plans they've made.
Tommy watches him as he does.
The boy slowly takes the cigarette out of his mouth. He looks at it for only a moment before dropping it on the ground and stomping on it as hard as he can.
He follows Wilbur down the same path, ready to listen as Wilbur explains the next step.