Chapter Text
Wilbur Soot was many things- an older brother, a twin, a son, and a good friend.
One thing he definitely wasn't, however, was naturally paternal. He had no clue what he was doing when his brothers were under the weather, he couldn't stand vomit, he never knew if a temperature was too low or too high.
That didn't stop the 14 year old from trying to help when his 3 year old brother, Tommy, picked up a nasty stomach bug from nursery. It was so bad that their father had decided to keep both Wilbur and Techno home to avoid them spreading the illness to their classmates.
Techno didn't give any arguments, instead staying in his room to do school work on his computer, only appearing at meal time or if he wanted a snack.
Wilbur on the other hand, couldn't just stay in his room all day. He found himself trailing Phil as he struggled to keep Tommy settled, wanting to help but not entirely knowing what to do.
"Will, do you want to try and help rather than just wandering like a post sheep?" Phil questioned, swaying as Tommy nuzzled into his shoulder, exhausted but unable to sleep due to the discomfort.
"Uh...I can try." He was never one to shy away from a task, especially if it would help his brother. He had no idea what he was doing, so Wilbur made sure he was paying full attention.
"Can you fill up a hot water bottle and grab one of those fever strips from the cupboard? I'm gonna give Toms a quick bath." The father instructed, not having to crouch as much to reach Wilbur's level as he was catching up in height.
The oldest son was quick to nod, heading to the kitchen and rummaging through the barrels, searching for an empty hot water bottle. He thought it would be a lot easier to boil the kettle, so he filled it and set it, pulling a chair over to search through the higher cupboards.
It took as long as it took for the kettle to boil for Wilbur to find the prized blue fever strips, the teen silently praising his success as he climbed down from the chair and pushed it back to the table, placing the strip on the counter then very carefully pouring the boiled water into the hot water bottle.
He understood that Phil most likely wouldn't be down for a little bit longer, and left the comfort item to cool down. The last thing he wanted was to hurt Tommy, especially when he was really sick.
"I know bud, I know." Phil soothed, rubbing Tommy's back as the toddler wailed, the sobs shaking his small frame as he hugged himself, sitting in the warm bath. He didn't understand why everything was so sticky, why his head was so mushy, and why his insides were so wiggly.
The sight broke Philza's heart, not knowing how to take his little boy's pain away. If he could, he'd take it away in a heartbeat. Instead, he could only comfort him, bringing bath time to a close and wrapping Tommy up in a red towel, holding him close once again.
Unlike other nursery kids his age, Tommy still openly accepted all the cuddles his was offered, especially if they were from his dad or older brothers. All he'd asked for once he started feeling icky was cuddles, and Phil hadn't had a moment to himself since the lad woke up.
"Alright mate, I'm gonna leave you sit with Wilbur for a little bit, so I can clean up a little." He quietly explained, helping Tommy get dressed into his cow-print pyjamas, wiping the tears on his cheeks.
Tommy nodded, clutching his cow plushie against his stomach, rocking on his heels as Phil gave him a pacifier to keep him content, ruffling his hair before picking him up and carrying the tyke downstairs.
Wilbur sat comfortably on the sofa, playing a retro game on his phone- he much preferred them over the shitty mobile games with scuffed graphics. He looked up as he heard the familiar footsteps down the stairs, being greeted by his father and baby brother.
"Hey dad." Was the simple greeting he gave, as Phil went to the kitchen to put the fever strips on Tommy's forehead, and tuck the hot water bottle under the kid's shirt.
"Hey kiddo, think you could watch Toms for a bit? I'm gonna clean his room a little and change his bedsheets." Phil asked, but Wilbur knew there was only one answer. As much as he didn't want to, he was doomed to be stuck with the sick scamp.
"Uh, sure." The teen reluctantly accepted the task, accepting the child that came free with it. He wasn't one to turn down family cuddles, and that's what he told himself- it was all just family cuddles.
"Thanks Will." Phil praised, ruffling Wilbur's hair before going back upstairs to do as intended.
"Hey bubba." Wilbur said gently, holding Tommy close as the sick lad sniffled, lavishing in the comfort from his brother. Wilbur's cuddles were always his favourite, even if he didn't get them as often anymore.
"Bubba." Tommy repeated, squirming to reach maximum comfort. It wasn't long before he found it, nestling into the teen's side before having a blanket placed over him.
"Try and sleep, alright? It'll make the icky go away." Wilbur suggested, running his hand through Tommy's hair, a habit he'd picked up from Phil after the countless times he'd been in the same scenario.
The toddler gave a slight mumbled response, closing his eyes and drifting into a feverish daze.
Tommy felt himself wake up, feeling like his whole body was roasting despite the fever reducer on his head. His insides felt all swishy, and he didn't understand why his throat was all croaky.
He could feel the hand still running through his hair, and the 3 year old decided it felt nice, and therefore didn't want to move in case it stopped.
Because of that, the nausea he was experiencing just continued to grow in intensity, until he could only open his mouth at the last second, throwing up all over the sofa.
At least it was leather, and not some other material that would have had to be completely stripped to avoid the gross liquid seeping through.
The first thing he noticed was the lack of comfort, the hand quickly recoiling from his hair and the weight beside him disappearing completely.
"DAD!" Wilbur quickly shouted, breathing quickly as he stood behind the sofa, wringing his hands.
Tommy couldn't understand what was happening, was he in trouble? Why was nobody making the icky go away?!
Of course, Phil was quick to run downstairs, not even having to ask when he saw what had happened. "Go do your counting, okay Wilbur? You did good." He praised, knowing how Wilbur reacted with stuff like this. He wasn't about to force him into something he was uncomfortable with.
The teen didn't have to be told twice before he scampered upstairs to his room.
Then of course, came the clean-up. Luckily, nothing had got on Tommy's clothes, so Phil only had to wipe his mouth before holding him to his shoulder and wiping the sofa down with anti-bacteria wipes.
The rest of the time Phil was upstairs, he kept Tommy with him. It was easier, and the two avoided any further spillages.
It was hard being a father, but Phil wouldn't change it for the world.