Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Technoblade was four years old when Tommy was born. Tommy was a cute kid with a round face and his head topped with golden curls. He sat there and smiled and laughed. Techno and Wilbur loved playing with their little brother. They congratulated him when he learned to crawl. They were happy when he learned to walk. They were overjoyed when he learned to talk.

That excitement died quickly. Tommy was a loud kid. Screaming and yelling about everything. Going on and on about whatever he could think of. He would just never shut up.

Wilbur was seven years old when Tommy was born. He was eleven when he broke Tommy.

It wasn't on purpose, he swears. But one evening, while Dad was out of the house, Tommy was running around, being noisy, like most other four-year-olds. Techno had started to flinch every time a loud noise echoed in his head. Wilbur repeatedly told Tommy to stop, getting louder and louder and angrier and angrier every time he repeated his request.

Then Wilbur snapped. He grabbed Tommy by the back of his shirt and threw him on the couch, holding him down with his arms. Wilbur was so, so done with Tommy, he started to yell. Wilbur screamed, hurtful words tearing at his throat, harmful threats and terrifying thoughts latched onto both of their minds and broke the home.

Techno was shaking on the living room floor, tears streaming down his face and hands covering his ears. He despised the words and the noises coming out of his older brother’s mouth. Tommy was crying, not responding. It scared Techno. Then dad came back, hours later, when the damage had already been done. Dad had taken Wilbur to his room to scold him for being mean. Techno and Tommy shared a look. They were both in tears; they were both scared.

Phil had received notes from Tommy’s preschool, explaining that Tommy refused to participate in class. When Phil had asked his youngest about it, Tommy didn’t answer. He stared at the floor, shaking his head when Phil tried to ask him a question. After another week of Tommy not responding to anyone, Phil took him to a doctor.

After Tommy was diagnosed as a selective mute, Phil had worked hard with the school to accommodate his son. He had signed all three brothers up for sign language after Tommy had written that he wanted to try. After all, speaking with his hands is more silent. And that’s what his family wanted, right?

Techno never told dad that Tommy spoke to him. Late at night, or early in the morning, the six-year-old boy could creep into Techno’s room and get in his bed. Techno would cuddle him, and Tommy would whisper. Tommy’s voice was too hoarse to understand, but Techno had figured out that Tommy won’t do the same for everyone. So he let Tommy mumble under his breath, cherishing the trust his little brother gave him.

Tommy always left before anyone could see.

Wilbur watched as his brothers grew up. Techno was graduating middle school, and Tommy was going into second grade. Will was in his third year of high school, passing with straight A’s and a high GPA. He had learned guitar, had sat through Techno’s long rants from when the boy was fixated on potato farming. He even learned Sign language, just for his baby brother. 

But Wilbur was bitter. Wilbur would tell his dad about all of the amazing and great things he had accomplished that day or that week at the dinner table. But Phil would only nod before congratulating Techno on sitting in the loud school cafeteria for fifteen minutes or Tommy for sitting in class for an hour. 

Wilbur had desperately wanted to be broken when he was younger. If it means you get things tailored for you, to make school, driving, and other life things more accessible and less anxiety-inducing. Will watched Tommy go to Therapy, and Phil went with him since Tommy was too young to be completely alone. Will watched Techno as he played with silicon noodles and various stim toys, which Phil had bought him.

Wilbur had bought his guitar. He used to take guitar lessons, but his bike broke, and Phil wasn't able to teach Wilbur how to fix it. He was at another school meeting, making the school a better place for broken kids like Tommy and Techno.

No one liked to admit it, but this family was properly fucked.

Chapter Text

Second Grade was the most brutal year of Tommy’s life. The teachers accommodated Tommy’s needs, and they were willing to help Tommy with whatever he needed.

The issues lied with his peers. They were mean to him. They would call him names, steal his food, and talk about him like he was deaf, saying hurtful, awful, mean things. There was this one boy whose name Tommy can’t remember, who dragged Tommy to a part of the playground that the teacher aides couldn’t see and beat him up. Sometimes the kid had friends with him, and together they would mark Tommy’s skin with purple and blues and hurt. Tommy couldn’t call out for help. He couldn’t scream; he couldn’t tell any adults. 

Tommy was alone.

When Tommy got home, he hid in his room. Techno would often be in his room doing homework or outside, tending to his new garden. Phil would either be at work or preparing dinner. Wilbur would be nowhere near. Tommy doesn’t know Wilbur, except that he doesn’t like it when Tommy is loud.

Tommy doesn’t like it when Tommy is loud. He’s grateful that he cannot speak, so he can’t bother anyone. Even if he has to bear bruises and hateful glares and soul-whittling insults, Tommy is glad that he cannot speak.

He stopped visiting Techno’s room a while ago. Those days must be the last time that Tommy spoke. Tommy remembers looking at his brother, shaking and crying when Wilbur yelled at Tommy. Tommy saw his emotions in Techno’s eyes, in his body. Tommy would tell Techno that it’s all right, that Techy is safe, and Tommy loves him. One day, Wilbur will say sorry for what he did. Tommy knows that because Wilbur was still the coolest eldest brother ever, right?

Sometimes, Tommy would tell Techno about his day, in small sentences, in simple words. It hurt to talk, to force air out of his lungs and shape it into words. To move his mouth to project waves of noise to his brother that he loved so dearly.

Tommy stays in his room at night now. Techno is fine, and he’s getting too big to share the bed with Tommy anyhow. Tommy writes in his journal and practices sign language. He does the exercises his therapist tells him to help calm anxiety.

Tommy remembers the feeling he would get after screaming as loud as possible. His diaphragm was aching, his throat was fuzzy feeling, his ears would be pierced, and his soul would be a thousand pounds lighter. He’s discovered that exhaling as hard as you can for as long as you can feel similar.

It wasn’t until Tommy got messy in the garden that Techno saw the bruises. The brothers were watering the plants, and Technoblade decided to make a small mud puddle for Tommy and him to play in. After an hour or two of getting ridiculously dirty, the boys peeled off their clothes and rinsed themselves off with the hose. Techno saw the purple and yellow marks that were splattered across his brother’s chest… and arms… and legs…

Where did you get those? Techno signed. Tommy froze and examined his own body.

School. was his reply.

Phil had pulled Tommy after school not long after that. Phil started homeschooling the boy with the help of one of the teachers that worked at the school. Her name was Kristin.

Wilbur watched through the years as Tommy and Philza spent all day, every day together. Wilbur watched as Techno ranted on and on about his potatoes and carrots and whatever else he grew, with Philza happily engaging with him. Wilbur watched as Philza would leave for some evenings to go on a date with Kristin.

Wilbur watched as Philza pushed him aside. Wilbur watched himself grow into a happy, healthy, and mentally together human being.

Tommy is still waiting for his apology.

Chapter Text

Wilbur sits on his bed and plays guitar. After his bike broke, Wilbur had been doing his best to self-teach, looking up tutorials online and just messing around on the strings until his fingertips were chapped and red.

Wilbur started writing songs when he was fourteen, and Tommy began homeschooling. None of the songs were ever good, and Wilbur always scrapped them.

"Aww, I liked that one!" Niki's voice came in through Wilbur's headphones. "Why did you get rid of it?"

Wilbur sighed, dragging a hand across his face. He needs to sleep more. "It was too personal. If I told my housemates I wrote it, they would know something's wrong."

Niki's voice paused. "Housemates? Oh, your family?"

Wilbur flinched. "Don't call them that. We've talked about this."

Niki huffed, and Wilbur knew she was rolling their eyes. Wilbur was fifteen when he stopped considering everyone his family. Phil ignored him, Techno avoided him, and Tommy…

Wilbur didn't let himself be around Tommy.

"Fine, back to your song." Niki's voice took Wilbur out of his thoughts. "Why wouldn't you want everyone to know you're struggling? Isn't that good?"

Wilbur shakes his head, even though he knows that Niki can't see him. "No, I'm not allowed to struggle," Wilbur scoffs. "Between Tommy and Techno, my issues aren't issues ." 

Niki was silent. Wilbur knew they were probably thinking about what to tell him. Niki was like that, always trying to help her friends. It's what's made her stick by Wilbur's side through the years. And Wilbur was grateful for that. Niki listened to him and spent time with him. They were more family than Wilbur's actual family.

"I'm sorry you feel that way, Wilbur," Niki said quietly. "But it's not true. Your family loves you. All you guys need is to be honest and talk it out."

Wilbur frowned. She's been saying the same thing for years, often enough for Wilbur to know that they were right. Usually, Wilbur would say it's difficult to talk. Niki would respond with something encouraging, and that's how their conversation would go. It's always been like that. And Wilbur is sick of it.

"I just got called for dinner," Wilbur lied. "I'll talk to you later, okay?"

Niki paused. She probably knew that he was lying. Lying wasn't one of Wilbur's strong points. "Okay, take care then."

"You too." Wilbur sighed as he ended the call. He turned his chair to look at his room. The walls were covered in back posters, the bed was a mess, and nothing was picked up. It was cluttered and crowded. Wilbur got to his feet and left his room.

Tommy was sitting on the couch, watching whatever cop show his dad put on. He didn't get the plot, but Tommy had no idea where the remote was.

"Tommy, do you know where Techno is?" Phil's voice called from the kitchen. Phil poked his head out from behind the wall. Tommy shook his head. "Ok then. Because he isn't out back." Phil went back to cooking dinner.

Tommy frowned but went back to watch TV. Techno recently started walking around town with his noise-canceling headphones. Tommy wasn't worried about Techno being safe. The man was big and strong. Techno could protect himself.

Wilbur walked down the stairs and sat on the couch. He was a full cushion away from Tommy. Tommy waved a hand to his brother. Wilbur only nodded and stared ahead at the tv. Tommy sighed and sunk more into the couch. 

I want to get to know you. I want to learn to love you.

Chapter Text

The family sat together for meals. It was often a silent affair. After all, Tommy didn't speak, Techno felt too awkward speaking, and Wilbur knew that whatever he said would just be ignored. Phil ate his food, but he didn't want to pass the meal in silence.

"So, Tommy," Phil swallowed a mouthful of chicken soup (bland as hell, Tommy thought. He's glad Kristin is here most nights, she cooks way better.) "I was thinking, what if you went back to public school?"

Tommy dropped his spoon on the floor. 

What? He signed.

"Wait, why?" Techno scowled at Phil. "Tommy was hurt last time? That's why you pulled him out in the first place!"

"Yeah," Wilbur agreed, voice tinged with disbelief. "Why would you send Tommy back?"

"Maybe I'll tell you if you both stop talking." Phil raised an eyebrow at his two oldest. They looked down at their bowls, waiting for him to continue. Tommy stared at his dad, face carefully covered in a vague expression.

"Tommy, you're gonna be fourteen soon, and I think that going to high school will benefit you." Phil raised a hand; Techno and Wilbur had opened their mouths to argue. "Look, it's a private school that focuses on sign language and the deaf. I asked, and they said they'd allow you. You shouldn't get bullied, and everyone would be talking the same way." Philza looked around at his sons. Doubt was heavy on Tommy and Techno's face, but Wilbur looked thoughtful. Phil sighed.

"Look, Tommy-"

"I think he should go." Wilbur interrupted.

"You do?" Techno asked. Wilbur nodded.

"He needs to get out of the house. It's not healthy to spend all his time with dad. At this rate, Tommy’s going to start wrinkling by the time he turns sixteen.”

Tommy told Will to shut up; he wouldn’t get wrinkles.

It was two in the morning, and Tommy couldn’t sleep. He was too hot with his blankets, but he was too cold without them. Tommy had played every game on his phone and even considered booting up his computer. However, he was sure the computer would only aid his restlessness.

If he were honest with himself, it was the idea of a real school that ran in Tommy’s mind, making it difficult to close his eyes. It was a lot. It would be new. But… it could end the same as before. Tommy, covered in bruises, unable to speak up. Tommy felt alone among his loud classmates.

Though, if these new ones were supposed to be deaf…then they were probably silent, huh? Tommy silently giggled at the thought. Everyone would be near-mute like him. Tommy wouldn’t stand out, right?

What if you still do?

Tommy got up and went down to the kitchen to get a glass of water. Maybe he was thirsty. He stopped in his tracks when he saw Wilbur leaning over the counter, sipping water. Wilbur nodded at his brother.

Do you want water too? Wilbur signed. Tommy nodded, and Wilbur got to his feet and filled up a glass, handing it to his little brother.

Why are you up so late? Tommy asked. He sipped his water.

Wilbur shrugged. I can’t sleep most nights. I sit out here and think.  

Tommy nodded and stared at the pattern on the countertop. It was hard to see in the dark, but it occupied Tommy’s mind, so he didn’t have to bother his brother. After all, Wilbur was here first; this is his routine. And Tommy’s just barging in and ruining it. Maybe if Tommy stayed quiet, maybe if he didn’t move, Wilbur wouldn't get upset.

“Why are you up?” Wilbur whispered, startling Tommy. Tommy glanced up at Wilbur before looking back down at the counter.

School.

“Oh,” Wilbur moved to sit on the floor. “Is that a hard decision for you?”

What is not supposed to be? Was Tommy just supposed to have a yes or no already? If so, then what was the obvious answer? Wilbur must’ve noticed how tense Tommy got. He frowned and avoided looking at Tommy.

“You know, I think the school is a great idea,” Wilbur started carefully. “It gets you used to being around people, and you get to learn more. You know Phil is struggling to catch up with you.” Wilbur chuckled. “I’ve heard him talking to Kristin. ‘Tommy’s too smart’. He wants what’s best for you. He always has. And I think you’ll flourish. I know you would be able to do it.”

Tommy looked up at Wilbur. He wanted to speak, wanted to ask Wilbur where these words were coming from, ask him where the confidence came from, but no words would rise. With no interruption, Wilbur continued.

“I know you had a rough school experience, and I know that your past is hard to grow from. I know that’s mostly my fault. That’s why I really want you to at least try this deaf school. Because I also know that you can do it. You’re a very strong boy, Toms, and you’re very friendly. You’ll make so many friends, you’ll pass your classes. I know that you can do it.” Wilbur took a deep breath. Tommy noticed it was shaky. “And If you only have one friend, that’s fine, and if you only pass with C’s, I’ll be proud of you. And if anyone gives you problems, there is nothing wrong with going back to homeschool. You do what makes you … not comfortable, per se, but do what makes you able to live life the best you can, happy and content. As long as you’re happy, I’ll be proud of you. And I know Techno and Phil would be too.” Wilbur looked up to see Tommy’s eyes shining with tears. With shaky hands, his little brother sighed one word.

Hug?

“Of course.” Wilbur stood up and gave Tommy a tight hug. Tommy felt an unknown tightness in his chest loosen. “I love you a lot Tommy, you know that?”

No, I really didn’t, Tommy thought bitterly. But he nodded anyway, not wanting to upset Wilbur.

The next morning, Tommy was enrolled in school. When Phil announced the news at dinner, Will gave Tommy a thumbs up.

Maybe… we can heal?

Chapter Text

The day was spent packing up backpacks and planning out the week’s lunches. Techno didn’t mind the cafeteria food, but he really liked it when Kristin made food for him. She always seemed to know what textures and flavors Techno does or doesn’t like. 

Wilbur was going to leave for a distant college that focused on music. He was only an hour's train ride away, but he still needed to pack everything up since he would be staying in a dorm to save on money.

Tommy was shaking with either nervousness or excitement; he couldn’t be sure. Everyone in the family was ecstatic when they heard he was going to try school. Now… doubts kept creeping into his head. And it was even worse that Tommy couldn’t even voice his fears… he always had to sign.

Techno would often find Tommy procrastinating his school preparations by reading in Tech’s room or attending to the garden for the hundredth time that day. The garden doesn’t need That much upkeep. And Tommy doesn’t even like the books in Techno’s room, so why would he be reading them? They were all non-fiction (besides the books Techno hid under his bed), and Tommy didn’t like Non-fiction.

“Dad!” Wilbur’s voice rang through the house. “Where did all my clothes go?” His head popped out of the downstairs bathroom.

“I’m washing it, so it’s all clean!” Kristin was in the kitchen with Phil, cooking dinner (or rather, Kristin would cook, and Phil would just… morally support her.)

Wilbur left the bathroom and went into the kitchen. “Why? I was going to wash it tomorrow?” 

“Well,” Kristin opened the fridge and grabbed a bag of sliced cheese. “I thought I would.”

Wilbur sighed and left the kitchen, going back into the bathroom. Techno was sitting in the living room, watching the whole thing happen.

She really is such a mom , He thought.

Tommy sat on Technoblade's bed, reading a Harry Potter book he found under the bed. Techno didn’t even seem to try to hide his fun books. The box they were in literally had the word ‘Fiction’ written on the side.

Tommy flinched as Wilbur shouted throughout the house, complaining about clothes. Of course, Will could be loud, but Tommy can’t. And, of course, that’s the only thought in Tommy’s head. Wilbur was better now. Sure, they only really had one heart-to-heart conversation. Still, Wilbur was never mean to Tommy after that one yelling incident. He wasn’t rude to him or anything.

Maybe that’s because you have been silent ever since then? The nasty voice in his head said.

No, It’s because Wilbur isn’t actually a mean person. He was just angry. That’s all.

That’s all.

The following day was a rush of making sure everyone had their books and supplies. Everyone woke up early and inhaled breakfast, and everyone was out the door by 7:30.

The car was unusually silent. The air was thick with tiredness and nervousness from all five occupants. Phil and Kristin spoke quietly in the front seats while the boys rested their heads on each other, fighting sleep.

Techno was dropped off first at the High School. Tommy gave him a squeeze and a supportive sign ( Good luck bitch ), and Techno was off, Headphones around his neck. Kristin was dropped off at the elementary school. Phil gave her a goodbye kiss, which Wilbur made a gagging noise.

“Oh, shut up.” Phil jokingly scolded, but he couldn’t hide the blush on his face.

When Phil pulled up to the train station, Wilbur put a hand on Tommy’s shoulder. “Dad, can I talk to Tommy real quick?” He asked.

Phil turned around to look at his sons. “Oh, okay. Be quick, though.”

Tommy shivered as he exited the car with Wilbur. Wilbur pulled Tommy a few steps away from the car and leaned in close.

"Listen," Will smiled. "I am so proud of you, and I know your day will go great. But… if anything bad happens, and I mean anything , just text me. I will drop everything and be here as fast as I can, all right?"

He was a whole hour away. It would make more sense to text Phil or Tech, Tommy thought. But Wilbur's words made him feel warm, and Tommy knew he could trust Wilbur right then.

Tommy nodded and pulled Wilbur into a hug.

I love you , he tried to say. But the words didn't come. Will heard them anyhow. 

I love you too , he hugged back.

Chapter Text

Phil parked the car by the main office and led Tommy inside. There were only two ladies in the office, and it was sort of small and cluttered. The two women helped check Tommy in and called an older student (Young adult?) to help Tommy to his class, which Tommy thought was unnecessary, but he didn’t argue. 

“He’ll be here in a second.” One lady assured Phil. “Thomas can stay here if you need to go.”

Phil nodded and looked at his son. “Will you be okay if I go?” Tommy shrugged. 

I will be okay.

“Okay then.” Phil hugged his son, squeezing tighter than the boy would typically allow, but… it was a scary day for both of them. They never mentioned the fear that settled in their bones, the anxious thoughts that ran rampant in their heads. What if this was a mistake, and this school will be just a repeat of second grade.

“You will be okay.” Phil’s voice was calm and soothing. “Call if anything happens, all right?” Tommy nodded. 

After a few more seconds, Phil withdrew and waved Tommy goodbye, Leaving the office and reaching his car. As he drove away, back to his home, he let a few tears trail down his cheeks. Phil reminded himself that everything would be okay, Phil reminded himself, pulling up to his house. Everything will be okay.

The older student was short, only a few inches taller than Tommy. He looked Mexican, wearing a dark blue beanie that covered his hair. He walked into the office with confidence, smiling at the office ladies that had been ignoring Tommy after his dad left. The ladies rolled their eyes. 

“This young man is Thomas. He enrolled into ninth grade.”

Tommy nodded. I like T-O-M-M-Y more. I am mute, not deaf.

The student grinned, and Tommy found himself liking this guy. “My name is Alexis, but I prefer to be called Quackity or Big Q. In ASL, it looks like this.” He then proceeded to sign the word "big", but instead of his hands making a bent 'L' shape, they were shaped like the letter "Q".

That is Quackity’s sign name, the unique sign that other people would use for him, and specifically him. They were uncommon, but Tommy would guess that they might be more common in school. Tommy never got a sign name since everyone at home just said his name. Sometimes, when Techno was more non-verbal, he would simply sign Tommy, Wilbur, and Phil as ‘little brother’, ‘big brother’, and ‘father’.

Quackity and Tommy left the office and headed left (with Big Q leading). They walked outside on a wide sidewalk lined with brown buildings and trees. 

“Okay,” Quackity took a deep breath. “So, This school teaches from the ages of pre-K all the way to senior in High School, or twelfth grade. None of the classes are that big, and they’re all organized by grade. So you and all of the ninth graders will be inside this building.” The two-story building in question was … brown, like the others. A large white ‘ E ’ was painted on the side. “This is the high school building. Ninth and tenth grades, as well as the gym-slash-cafeteria, are on the first floor, eleventh and twelfth grade, and the Art room, are on the second floor.”

Oh , Tommy thought. He didn’t remember his elementary school being like this.

Quackity continued. “Building ‘ 1 ’ is the main office. Most of the teacher’s offices are there too. ‘ C ’ is for Pre-K, ‘ A ’ is grades one to three, ' B ' is for grades four to six, and ‘ D ’ is seven and eight.”

Tommy frowned. The letters don’t match up.

Quackity nodded. “They built ‘ A ’ and ‘ 1 ’ first, then they added more buildings as the students aged.  A lot of the kids are from the surrounding towns and cities, so there are many more students than other Deaf schools."

Tommy shivered. How many?

Quackity looked up for a moment. “Well, in ninth grade… Maybe ten kids?”

The front door opened. A man smiled at Quackity and Tommy. “Alexis, why are you standing around? Classes will start soon.”

“Sorry, Mr. Halo.” Big Q turned to Tommy with a grin. “This guy is your teacher. He’s fun.”

Mr. Halo chuckled and walked to Tommy. What is your name?

T-O-M-M-Y, Tommy spelled out again. I am mute, not deaf.

Mr. Halo nodded. "Okay, good to know. Come along then. Alexis, Sam is expecting you. Don't be late."

Big Q clicked his tongue and gave Tommy a small salute, then he turned around and walked away from the building. Where was he going?

Tommy flinched when someone - Mr. Halo - tapped on his shoulder. Tommy nodded and followed him inside.

Mr. Halo opened the door and ushered Tommy inside. The classroom was small, only holding ten desks circled around a whiteboard on the wall. All but two of the desks were filled with students. 

"Sit in whichever one you want." Mr. Halo moved to write on the board. Tommy took the fourth desk, which was slightly to the right of the whiteboard. The last student (a girl with puffy hair and a pirate hat) sat on the far left side of the room.

Mr. Halo introduced himself ( H-A-L-O ) and showed the class his sign name (the sign for 'teacher' with H's instead of the traditional oval shapes). He called the students one by one to introduce themselves, starting at the right.

P-O-N-K.

A-L-Y-S-S-A.

S-T-E-V-E. (Sign name was 'white bear' but with an S instead of the sign 'white')

Tommy got up and introduced himself. He also explained that he was not deaf but mute.

R-A-N-B-O-O.

C-A-L-L-A-H-A-N.

T-U-B-B-O.

P-U-R-P-L-E-D.

S-A-M.

P-U-F-F-Y. (Her sign name was 'sheep' with a P instead of the traditional V shape.)

The next hour was spent listening (or watching) Mr. Halo explain the classroom rules, guides, and tips to help students throughout the school year. He used sign language and sometimes wrote what he signed like an echo if it was vital. He also spoke, which made Tommy think for a bit. If everyone here was deaf or hard of hearing, why would the teacher speak aloud at all?

Tommy glanced at his neighbor. Ranboo was watching Mr. Halo. His eyes rarely left the teacher’s face, every once in a while glancing at the board. Tommy could tell that Ranboo depended on sign language to learn.

Mr. Halo then explained how each subject would be taught and how homework and class participation would work. Tommy took notes and paid attention the best he could. By the time lunch hour rolled around, Tommy felt really confident and… accepted.

This really is a turning point, isn't it?

Chapter Text

Lunch was a quiet affair. Each class mainly stayed at their own tables, and some of the kids would sign to their fellow classmates. Most of the students knew each other from past courses. Tommy looked at the kid nearest to him. Ranboo. What a weird fucking name. He wasn’t communicating with anyone either, just looking down at the table while he nibbled on his sandwich. Tommy reached forward and tapped on his shoulder. Ranboo jumped, looking at Tommy, but avoiding his eyes. Tommy frowned, but he signed anyway.

Are you new to this school too?

Ranboo answered with a sharp nod and returned to his sandwich. Tommy scowled at the audacity. 

Bitch.

Tommy turned to the kid on his other side. This kid was short and had some hideous scarring all over his face. His name was… Toby? Something like that. Toby had already finished his food and excitedly signed with the Puffy-haired pirate kid. Tommy didn’t care to follow their conversation. Instead, he just looked at their faces and their emotions. Slowly, his eyes slid to everyone else’s face, grazing their expressions. They seemed so animated compared to the lack of noise. The weak click of plastic and metalware, the rustle of napkins or Ziploc bags, whatever food containers the students brought their lunch in. Every once in a while, a student would make a noise, but you could tell that they probably didn’t even know they were making a sound.

Tommy noticed Big Q sitting at a table across the cafeteria. He was sitting with four other boys, probably the same age as him. The boy couldn’t see their faces very well, but he could see the colors of their shirts; purple, white, light blue, and green.

Something tapped Tommy on the shoulder, making him flinch. He whipped around to look at Ranboo, who was hunching over himself, making himself as small as he could, which Tommy thought was a dumb thing to do. Ranboo was super freaking tall. 

Ranboo held out his hand, holding a chocolate candy. Tommy stared at it for a while before Ranboo gently placed the candy in front of Tommy.

You can have it, Ranboo signed. His face was distorted all weird; maybe he was smiling? Tommy struggled to force his face to look thankful.

Thanks .

Techno sat near the front of the classroom, listening to the teacher. This period was World History, which Techno loved and had already binge-read through the whole textbook that the school gave him. He then had to rent more books from the library, and he did a bunch of research on different cultures and events.  He was kind of disappointed that the teacher was going so slow and dragging through the first humans' studies. Still, Techno had to remind himself that he read ahead, so now he has to go at the same pace as the rest of the typical teens.

Techno raised his arm, holding three fingers up, like the letter ‘W’. That was his way of asking the teacher if he could walk around the halls. Usually, Techno waited until the sounds of pencil on paper made him grit his teeth. The bored noises the students made drove Techno near tears to ask to leave, but now Techno was bored, and he didn’t want to bother the other students with his bored noises.

The teacher gave him a nod, and Techno left the classroom.

The halls were mostly empty, besides the odd janitor or a teacher, who all knew Techno and just gave him small nods. Techno hated the first weeks of school, where he had to explain time and time again that yes, he was allowed to walk around the halls. Techno looped around the halls twice then sat outside his classroom door on the floor. He hummed to himself, a little song that he heard Wilbur play recently. It was stunning, and Techno had attempted to recreate the tune on a basic sound program online, but it didn’t have the same feeling.

It was times like this that Techno really missed how his family used to be before Tommy stopped talking. He couldn’t remember it all too well, but the textures back then were good. A soft and floaty brown, like on an old computer screen when it fell asleep. Now it was… orange. A burning wire. 

Will was getting along in school just fine. He had Niki; a few other people in his other classes spoke to him fairly regularly. He found this tranquil area on top of his Dorm building, one that showed the city lights from cars and signs, one that illuminates the dark brown smog that weaved its way through tall metal buildings. It was beautiful, full of inspiration. Wilbur often did his best songwriting there.

And that’s where Niki found him, strumming his guitar, singing a broken song with a broken voice, pain and hurt and soul , bared for the hidden stars to see. It broke Niki’s heart. They often sat with him, ensuring he didn’t do anything brash. It wasn’t good that Wilbur found solace on a rooftop. Niki still remembers being called late at night by a panicky Will, who had sobbed and did his best to confess. Niki had to help him breathe, and she had to tell him how to care for the red marks on his arms and on his thighs. Twice more, months apart, would Wilbur call and panic, leaking red all over his floor or in the bathtub. Niki knew his eyes would be swollen, tracks of saltwater leading down to his chin.

It’s been two years since the last call. Wilbur never told his dad, never went to a doctor, nothing. So, Niki just stuck by their friend’s side, through thick and thin, loving him in place of his family. Until his family took their place at his side like they were supposed to.

Chapter Text

Tommy came home from school, getting dropped off by a bus. He opened the door and was greeted by Phil preparing dinner. Which made no sense cause it's only three and dinner is at six.

"Hello Tommy!" Phil smiled at his youngest before turning around back to the counter. "How was school?"

Tommy would have answered, but Phil needs to be looking at him, which he wasn't. School was good. It has been good all week. Mr. Halo was kind, Ranboo kept giving him candy, Big Q was fun to hang around before school started.

Tommy shrugged and went up to his room. Phil wasn't really paying any attention anyway.

His room was nice, if not a little bit plain. Tommy made a few paintings when he was nine. They were nonsensical, just colors that blended together and didn't resemble anything. Tommy's bedding was covered in tiny red flowers with a pale red background ( it's not pink, it's pale red, shut up ). He didn't know why his bedsheets had flowers on them, but Tommy didn't really care enough to ask for more "grown-up" sheets.

Tommy put his backpack down and threw himself on his bed, relaxing and looking at the few stars on his ceiling. They didn't glow anymore, and a while ago, the stars started to fall off. 

Someone knocked on his door. "Tommy," Philza. "Can I come in?"

With a groan, Tommy got up and opened his door. Phil stood there, looking antsy. Immediately Tommy tensed. 

Come in. Tommy signed. Phil sat on the foot of his bed. 

"I have a question I need to ask you." Phil drummed his fingers on his knees. "I already asked Techno and Wilbur, but I need to ask you."

Tommy froze, mind running, trying to think of plausible possibilities.

"I was wondering if you… erm… What are your thoughts on Kristin?"

Oh, that's what this is. Tommy smiled.

I like her, Tommy signed. You can marry her if you want.

Phil froze, and it was hilarious to see. Tommy doesn't remember a time when Phil looked this afraid. Tommy laughed.

"How did you know?" Phil asked.

I'm not dumb! You've been dating for years. I'm surprised it took this long.

"Wilbur said the same thing." Phil laughed too, far more relaxed now. "I'm glad you're fine with it."

Apparently, Phil was scouting for rings and such tonight, and that's why he was preparing dinner. It was like… a spaghetti casserole dish? Tommy wasn't sure, but it did look questionable. It was put in the fridge with basic baking instructions. Techno was still out, leaving Tommy alone when Phil left around five.

It was okay; Tommy has been alone loads of times before. He got on the house computer and wasted time on various sites that had hundreds of games on them and claimed to be educational. Tommy had this one he liked about running a pancake restaurant, which was strange to have a restaurant for. The other games in the series made sense: cupcakes and smoothies, burgers, and many more. 

Almost an hour later, Techno came home. Tommy paused his game. 

"Sup," Techno grunted. Tommy waved enthusiastically. Techno pulled a chair from the dining room and sat next to Tommy. "Where is Phil?"

Getting ready to propose. Tommy grinned.

"Cool." Techno looked at the computer. "What day are you on?"

Tommy unpaused the game and showed his brother his progress. Techno made a noise, which Tommy decided was positive-meaning. Like a quick hum. Tommy got back to playing, with Techno giving commentary every once in a while. After the day ended, Techno helped buy upgrades for the store and decorations to make waiting customers happier.

They played through four more days before Tommy's stomach rumbled.

"What's for dinner?" Techno asked.

They got up from the computer and headed to the kitchen. Tommy pulled the casserole thing out of the fridge and set it on the counter. Techno just stared at it. Slowly, with the care of someone handling a bomb, he removed the foil covering the… spaghetti?

"Uh," Techno frowned. "It actually looks sorta edible." 

It has olives! And no meat! Tommy despaired.

"I see that." Techno turned around and opened the fridge. "Hmm, do we have any bread?" 

Tommy shook his head. Techno rolled his eyes. "Are you sure?" Tommy nodded. "Fine. I guess we have to eat the olive spaghetti." Techno closed the fridge. Tommy made a show of sobbing and curling onto the floor in some sort of fetal position. 

Techno just ignored the kid and went to preheat the oven. While he waited, Techno stirred the dish, seeing how bad the damage was. It didn't look too bad, all things considered. The noodles were a tad undercooked, and there wasn't that much sauce. There was no beef or meat of any kind, and yes, there were olives, but Techno thought they were scarce enough to let Tommy eat around them. There were tomato chunks, which is nice. Techno picked a piece and put it in his mouth.

Immediately Techno spat it out on the counter and swore. Tommy looked up at his brother, concerned.

"Why the hell ," Techno quickly grabbed a glass and filled it with water from the sink. He took a large drink and swished it in his mouth, spitting it out into the sink. "Why the hell would Dad put strawberries in spaghetti?"

Tommy looked at him for a second before laughing, face red and gasping for air. Techno grabbed the noodles and dumped them in the trash. No way he was going to eat that.

"What was Phil thinking?" He muttered to himself as he started to look around for dinner alternatives. Tommy was still rolling on the floor laughing. It was strange to hear his voice.

In the end, they ordered a pizza.

Chapter Text

Chapter Text

Kristin was honored to share in the family's Christmas celebration. Even though Philza told her it was nothing special and that the family didn't even do much, Kristin smiled and laughed along with the family. 

She wasn't stupid; she knew that this household was full of miscommunication and hurt. But she appreciated that at least they did their best.

Techno had texted Kristin about the strawberry spaghetti and asked if she could bring something edible. Kristin giggled at her boyfriend's horrible cooking. She promised she would, immediately getting to work making two dinner dishes and a dessert.

She even bought gifts for the boys. They were sort of simple, but Kristin knew that the boys would be happy either way.

Kristin arrived at noon on Christmas eve, her meals and presents in tow. Tommy’s eyes widened at the sight, and he immediately took the presents. 

"Don't open them yet, Tommy. You have to wait until tomorrow." Kristin chuckled. Tommy gave her a look that clearly meant he wasn't dumb enough to open presents right now . 

Techno was decorating the house, putting up little trinkets and snowmen. Lots of snowmen. Phil had told Kristin that Techno loves snowmen. Kristin didn't ask why it took the boys this long to decorate. Kristin put the dishes in the oven to keep them warm and the dessert in the freezer. 

"Um," Kristin turned to see Wilbur sitting on the floor.

"Hello, Will. How are you?" Kristin smiled. Will looked at Kristin but didn't meet her eyes.

"I'm fine. It's just… Christmas. I'm not much of a holiday person." Wilbur shrugged. "Phil and Tech really love it, though, so that's why we celebrate."

Kristin nodded. "Okay. It's fine that you don't love the holiday as much as everyone else. I normally don't do anything for Christmas either."

"You don't?" Wilbur pulled himself to his feet.

"Nope," Kristin glanced at the living room, where Phil and Tommy were arguing over the order of stockings. "But, it means a lot to your father. So I don't mind celebrating it with you guys."

Wilbur nodded, seeming to be deep in thought. Kristin noted that he looked exhausted. He had bags under his eyes, and he slouched. Wilbur was wearing a black hoodie and sweatpants, which were wrinkled. His hair, while ordinarily wild, just looked unkempt, especially without his favorite red hoodie.

Wilbur noticed Kristin looking him over because he excused himself and went up the stairs to his room.

"OH, C'MON FUCK YOU!" Phil roared at the tv screen. Kristin giggled as her character–King Boo–was crowned as the winner, right after she red-shelled Luigi (played by Phil), making him come in third (Tommy's Link came in second)

"Phil, don't yell at your girlfriend." Techno was smiling. 

Quit sucking at the game. She's gonna leave you. Tommy signed, shaking with laughter.

"Oh, knock it off. She wouldn't do that!" Phil turned his head towards her. "You wouldn't, right?" He asked jokingly. Kristin just raised an eyebrow. The smile fell off the man's face. "Right?" He asked fearfully.

"Let's play another game." She said. Techno snorted and left for the kitchen to escape the noise that left Philza's mouth, as well as the cackling that Tommy made, one of the few noises that he would make. 

Techno shook his head and grabbed a glass, opening the fridge and filling the glass with eggnog. Techno took a quick sip from the bottle before closing it and putting it back in the refrigerator. Anarchy or something, right?

Techno downed his glass and rinsed it off in the sink, leaving it on the counter. Techno paused.

Something felt off. Not right. Techno turned around, searching. 

One of his snowmen had fallen. It fell off the side of the counter and rolled under the table. Techno knelt and picked it up, observing it. Its nose and the brim of its hat had chipped off. Shame. Techno stood up and opened the drawer where their trashcan was held. He froze.

Underneath a bunch of lined papers-all blank- was a pale and ugly shade of yellow. Techno grabbed the yellow and pulled it from the trash. It was one of Wilbur's sweaters, his favorite one, in fact. Why did he throw it away? Techno couldn't find any holes or stains or anything.

Huh.

Techno dropped the sweater, threw away the snowman, closed the drawer, and promptly made his way up the stairs. He knocked on Will's door. No response.

"Uh, Wilbur? Can I ask you something?" Techno flinched as more screams and cheers came from the living room. 

Silence.

"Are you asleep?" Techno frowned and slowly opened the door. Posters of niche bands and old pieces of vinyl hung on the pale walls. A pile of dirty clothes spilled from the closet. The room was empty.

"What are you doing?" Techno jumped and turned to see Wilbur, hair dripping. Wilbur scowled at his brother.

"Why did you throw away your yellow sweater?" Techno stepped aside to let Wilbur close his bedroom door.

"I dunno. Just did." Wilbur muttered. "C'mon, let's go destroy Phil at Uno." He walked down the hallway.

"Did you take a shower?" Techno glanced at the bathroom. 

Wilbur stopped at the top of the stairs. "Yeah, I was dirty." And Techno couldn't really argue with that; his brother was smelly. Then Wilbur went down the stairs, leaving Techno alone.

Technoblade didn't move for a second. Something irked him. Techno stared at the bathroom door.

The fan wasn't on. Of course, Wilbur, you heathen! Techno turned on the fan and then the light, checking to make sure there was no disgusting water mess all over the floor. There was a mess, nasty prick. Technoblade shuddered as he pulled a towel from the linen closet and dried up the floor. He hung the towel up on the wall and stopped to stare at the mirror. 

Huh.

There was something on the sink.

Red?

Techno blinked and grabbed some toilet paper, getting it wet and cleaning it off, throwing the paper in the trash can.

Which was full of band aid wrappers.

The red was blood.

Um.

Techno didn't know what to do. 

Wilbur must be in another of his episodes. But why? 'Cause Techno’s been nice, Tommy and Will have been doing better, Phil's been good. What's wrong with Wilbur?

Techno knew asking wouldn't give him any answers, so he just shrugged and turned off the light, leaving the fan on and going down the stairs, where Phil was showing off his shuffling skills, messing with a deck of Uno.

Techno didn't spare a glance at Will. This isn't the first time he's done this, and he's been fine, so there isn't any reason why he shouldn't be good this time, right? Techno tried to be friendly and helpful the first few times a couple of years ago, and all Wilbur did was yell at him and tell Techno to leave him alone. So that's what Techno did.

Techno went to bed first, signing Merry Christmas to everyone before heading up the stairs. Tommy fell asleep during their annual watching of Polar Express. Wilbur sat on the couch, strumming his guitar and playing snippets of Christmas carols.

"You're really good at that, Will." Kristin complemented. "Have you tried to write any music?"

Wilbur continued strumming. "Yeah, but I haven't really made anything I like yet."

Kristin nodded thoughtfully. "Well, that's okay. Music sounds hard to write anyway."

Wilbur didn't respond. Kristin stared at the lights on the Christmas tree. Some of the presents had shiny wrapping, and the reflection from the yellow Christmas lights was beautiful. She was so lost in thought, Kristin didn't notice that Wilbur had stopped playing.

"Kristin," Wilbur whispered. She turned to look at him. "I'm very happy you're here."

Kristin flushed a bit. "Aw, thank you. I know it must be hard, having a new person here on the holidays."

Wilbur shook his head. "Nah, I think it makes everything better. Christmases are normally really tense."

"Why is that?" Kristin glanced at the stairs, where everyone had disappeared to.

"It's all my fault, really." Wilbur sighed. "You know how Tommy doesn't speak?" Kristin nodded. "Well, it's a trauma response. He was loud as a kid, and I was a stupid preteen, and I yelled at him. Screamed, shouted the whole thing. Gave Tech a meltdown. Tommy hasn't spoken since."

Kristin frowned. She knew Tommy's thing stemmed from trauma, but she never actually asked what the trauma was .

"Do you blame yourself?" Kristin asked softly. Wilbur froze for a moment, then sighed.

"Everyone else does too."

Kristin didn't say anything. What exactly do you say here?

"Well, I have seen that you do your best to be here for everyone, and I know everyone else is doing the same," Kristin started carefully. "I know you love your brothers, and they love you too. It can be tough to live in a house where you don't feel welcome, but I assure you, you are welcome here. And If anyone says otherwise, I will have some choice words to say." Kristin smiled. Wilbur blinked.

"You're scary, though." Wilbur's voice was flat.

Kristin smiled. "And you're an important part of this family. You deserve to be loved and feel like you're loved. Anyone who doesn't know that will know that when I'm done with them."

Wilbur looked slightly worried, but he smiled. "I'm glad you're here." He repeated.

I love you . "I'm glad you're here too." Kristin leaned forward and hugged him.

Merry Christmas, they said to each other.

Maybe…

Maybe this family can heal?

Chapter Text

Fuck. Shit. Dammit.

Wilbur’s just being dramatic. Just being Stupid . Like he usually is.

Niki isn’t stupid. She was fourteen when she walked up to Wilbur and told him that she was a demi-girl and used She/Her and They/them. Wilbur accepted them and loved them and used both sets of pronouns, and respected her identity and everything.

And,

Well,

Wilbur’s a fucking idiot. He’s a guy; he knows he is. But something in him is itchy and writhing. Something in his body wants to change. And if that isn’t just a selfish thing. Wilbur is male, one hundred percent. He’s done a lot of soul searching and self-discovery and shit. Definitely came out as male. So why was he uncomfortable?

Wilbur dealt with the horrible feeling for a few months. Still, in a wintery February, Wilbur screamed and sobbed and hated that he had to ask Niki for help to get him to a hospital. Something. He wanted to hurt his arms and legs and ribcage; he wanted to let the itch out of his body. Wilbur knew that his feelings were terrible.

So, he was put in a hospital for a few days. Niki stayed behind, asking him what had happened. 

“It’s the constant feeling,” Wilbur whispered. He didn’t like the lights that hung above him, humming and adding to the icky feeling. “I just feel… like if I have to feel one more fucking thing, I’m going to explode.”

Niki tilted their head and hummed. “Sounds like overstimulation.”

“But I’m not autistic or anything like that.” Wilbur protested. Niki shrugged.

“Will, you still have senses. It would make sense that you would get overstimulated too. It just takes a lot more than someone like Techno.” She reasoned. “So, what are you feeling?”

Wilbur groaned and felt his insides toss and turn. His nervous system is utter shit. 

"I think I hate myself." He forced out. Fuck the vibrations his voice made, making him feel even more… wrong . "I hate feeling like myself. I just want to be someone else. I fucking hate this." Tears don't feel as bad as he thought they would. Crying felt good, normal. Strange.

"What do you mean, someone else?" Niki's voice wasn't as soothing as it usually is.

But Wilbur knows what he meant was selfish. Stupid, untrue, probably rude to the community.

"I want to be like you," Wilbur whispered. Niki blinked. "I know I'm not like you, and I know it's dumb and insulting and rude, but I don't want to be me anymore. "

Wilbur sobbed as a nurse came in to check on him. Niki was silent, deep in thought. Minutes later, the nurse left. Niki still didn't say anything. Will's tears were drying up.

"Wilbur," Niki placed their hand over his. "What does being like me mean to you?" Wilbur shifted in his bed. 

"Uh, the pro-pronouns." Wilbur stammered. "The whole gender thing. It-it's different from me, and I just don't … don't want to be me." He looked ashamed.

Niki hummed. "Well, are you male?" They asked.

"Yes, and that's why I feel bad. I'm not nonbinary or trans or anything like that. So I hate just… wanting to be like you. I feel like I'm being disrespectful to you and other people like you."

They both got silent. 

"I don't know how to help you, Wilbur."

Niki might've not known what to do at first, but she did try. They did research on gender identity and pronouns, and trauma. Their heart broke reading article after article of adults who were neglected as a child struggling to find their place in the world.

Wilbur wasn't doing any better. He kept to himself, only leaving his room when Niki came over, forcing him to eat and shower. Niki had told him of her findings. Wilbur scoffed and claimed he wasn't neglected. He knows who he is. 

"I just wanted an easy escape. That's what the whole thing was about."

Niki frowned and did more research. She tried to convince him to consider therapy. The answer was no. 

"I'm fine." He said.

Niki got nervous every time she found him standing on the roof.

Do you want to come to my house? Ranboo signed nervously. 

Tommy raised an eyebrow. Yeah, he and Ranboo have been getting along pretty well. It's kinda become a staple for Ranboo to give Tommy candy at lunch. This weird mocha-flavored sucking candy tasted pretty good. They've taken to talking before and after class.

But coming to his house? Tommy wasn't sure if he was ready. Maybe. 

Tommy pulled out his phone and texted Phil.

Tommy : You know the kid I talk to after class? He asked if I could go to his house.

Dadza : Sure. Be back home before 10.

My Dad said yes. Tommy signed. Ranboo grinned and fished his phone out, presumably to text his own parents.

Ranboo took Tommy's hand and led him to the parking lot on the other side of campus. Phil always parked by the front office. Ranboo led him past the buildings, past a small green field that was flooded over more often than not, and an abandoned playground. The playground was rusty, with a sad set of monkey bars and a swing set meant to have three swings, but one was missing. 

I live near here, Ranboo signed. This playground was rusty when I moved in.

Tommy frowned. Kinda strange, he thought.

Ranboo passed the swings and led Tommy down an alley, the kind that was between backyards. Various wooden fences and brick walls lined the dirt path, food wrappers and beer cans littered the edges, with small tufts of grass and weeds poking out. Ranboo stopped at a wood gate painted red.

This is it. Ranboo opened the gate and walked into the backyard. The backyard was full of grass in varying shades of green and yellow. The house has two levels and was made from painted panels, a pale yellow. Flowers grew around the house and a small, dead tree. A sparse brick path went from the gate to the concrete back porch. Ranboo opened the door, and Tommy followed inside.

They entered a small kitchen with a table. The table was covered in papers, and a woman was sitting at a laptop, looking bored and tired. She looked up at the newcomers and grinned. She made an ‘r’ with her hands and pointed them at the sky, moving them back and forth, similar to the word ‘star.’ Was it Ranboo’s sign name?

–how was school today? Who is this? She signed. 

This is T-O-M-M-Y. He is my friend. He is mute, not deaf. Ranboo smiled and glanced at Tommy.

“Hello Tommy!” The woman’s voice was slightly slurred, similar to how deaf people speak. Tommy looked, and she did have a pair of hearing aids. “I am Annalise, or–” She then put up an ‘m’ with her left hand and an ‘a’ with her right and moved them towards each other until they passed. “That is my name. It is ‘math’ with an ‘A’!” She seemed very bubbly and signed when she spoke. 

This is my mom, Ranboo explained. I have a brother, an aunt, and a cousin.

Tommy nodded. Okay.

“My sister is called Rose–” Annalise signed the word ‘name’ with an ‘r’ and moved the ‘r’ to her nose, to sign ‘rose.’ “–and our sons are Ranboo, Foolish, and Dream.” Ranboo’s name was the ‘star’ sign earlier, Foolish was the letter ‘f,’ and then the word 'build', and Dream was the letter ‘d’ then the word ‘green.’

All of the names were making Tommy's head hurt a bit. Nice to meet you. He responded.

Annalise nodded and turned to Ranboo. Do homework before you play.

Okay, Ranboo signed before turning and grabbing Tommy’s wrist and dragging him around the house.

At 9:30, Philza looked up from his book to see Tommy enter the house. “Hey, mate,” Phil said softly. “How was Ranboo’s house?”

Tommy was jumping around and signing so fast that Phil could barely keep up with his words, Something about Roses and Stars, Video Games, and Homework. Phil just shook his head and did his best to follow along, chuckling at his son's enthusiasm. It’s been a while since he’s seen Tommy like this. It wasn’t until Tommy flopped down on the couch, arms limp at his sides, did Phil find room to speak. “Sounds like you had fun. I’m very happy for you.”

Tommy's smile was so wide, his cheeks flushed from his rush of words. His breaths were deep, his whole body rising and falling.

“I’m happy too.”

Chapter Text

Tommy stared at himself in the mirror. He fucked up. He knows he fucked up. 

"I'm happy too."

Why did he speak? He knows that speaking means hurting, means yelling and pain and sadness and screaming and I'm sorry Wil–

He doesn't talk. It's better for Tommy if he doesn't.

Phil nervously picked at the leather lining his car's steering wheel. To his right was an apartment complex, tall and brown. Phil got nervous just sitting in his car every time he came here. Manners say he should walk to her door, but Kristin has said that it's easier for him to sit in the car.

Here she comes, dressed beautifully, smiling and happy. Phil got out of the car and hugged her, kissing her cheek.

"You ready?" He asked.

"Yep, let's go!" Kristin pulled her boyfriend to the car.

Phil was nervous.

Techno was not reading his fiction books in his room, thank you very much. He was reading… uh…

Ok, fine, he wasn't reading. He was listening to the door. Yeah, Dad just left, but he comes back tonight with a fiance.

Techno didn't doubt at all that Kristin would say yes. He was happy about that. Kristin was friendly and let Techno info dump and spoke sign with Tommy. She was perfect, a wonderful addition to the family.

Someone knocked on Techno's door. Techno got off his bed and opened the door. Tommy stood there, looking petrified and glaring at the floor.

Can I come in? Tommy signed.

Phil took their date to an arcade. He wasn't a big fan of fancy dinner dates or anything like that. It was fun. They played games together, teasing and laughing. They took photos and won tickets. After an hour, the couple calmed down and just walked around, leaving the arcade and seeing the city sights.

"This was nice." Kristin sat at a bench, and Phil sat beside her.

Phil took a deep breath. He looked around. Only a few people were walking around, a family with two little kids playing with a fountain and a claw machine. Phil chuckled. 

"What?" Kristin asked. Phil shrugged.

"You gave all our tickets to that one child at the arcade." Phil grinned.

Kristin scoffed. "He was adorable and sad that he lost that racing game. We don't need toys." The two laughed. Phil wasn't actually mad; they both knew.

The kids left the claw machine. An idea struck Philza.

"One moment," Phil patted his girlfriend's knee, then got up and walked over to the claw machine.

"Those things are rigged, Phil!" Kristen laughed.

"I know, but I wanna try it!" Phil couldn't really care if he actually got something or not. There was a cute stuffed puppy, though, and it seemed like the claw might actually be able to grab it. Phil inserted two quarters and moved the claw. Phil did his best to place it above the dog's head and pressed the button that would let the claw go down.

Phil's depth perception must be shit, then. The claw went behind the puppy, and came up with a crow plush. Phil watched as the crow was dropped in the chute. He bent down to grab it and look at it. The crow had a cute green baseball cap and tiny wings that didn't have any stuffing at all. The beak had a derpy smile embroidered on it, making the crow look funny.

It was perfect.

Tommy sat on Techno's bed. Techno sat on the floor in front of him. Tommy hasn't said anything, frozen and shaking. It was starting to worry Techno how his little brother was acting.

"Tommy, what's wrong?" Techno asked again. This must be his fifth time asking. The pink-haired boy was almost ready to call Dad, which he really didn't want to do. "Is there something I can do?"

Tommy glanced up at Techno, frowning. Almost crying?

Please don't be mad at me. Tommy’s hands were shaky, making his signs almost indecipherable.

"Tommy, whatever it is, I won't be mad." Techno's thoughts led to Wilbur and his bandaged arms, the red spots on the sink. Tommy was… okay? Right?

"I messed up."

Techno's eyes were wide. Did Tommy…?

His voice was hoarse, his words quiet. But Tommy spoke.

"What?" Techno could barely speak. Not in an autistic nonverbal way, just… knowing that something incredible just happened.

"I didn't want to talk." Tommy whimpered, curling up into himself as if he was afraid. "I was just… so happy. Hands weren't working."

Techno slowly sat beside Tommy. "Isn't talking a good thing? That's what the speech therapist wanted, right?"

Tommy sniffed. Techno didn't notice the tears streaming down his brother's face. "I don't want to get yelled at."

"Shut up! Shut up shut up SHUT UP!" Wilbur, only eleven years old, roared, his throat tearing. "I don't care about your game, I don't care about what you can do. NO ONE CARES TOMMY! JUST SHUT THE FUCK UP! WE DON'T NEED TO HEAR YOU SPEAK! WE NEED YOU TO SIT DOWN AND FOR ONCE IN YOUR GODDAMN FUCKING LIFE SHUT UP!"

Techno covered his ears. He didn't want to hear this. His brother was just talking about how fun tag is! He was just jumping around and explaining how he was the fastest in school! He didn't… didn't need this, didn't deserve this.

" I'm sorry I'm sorry I'LL BE QUIET I'LL STOP TALKING WILBY PLEASE I DON'T LIKE IT WHEN YOU SCREAM PLEASE I'LL STOP! " Little Toms was screaming, crying, sobbing. Techno wanted to push Wilbur over, wanted to cradle that little golden curled boy in his arms and tell him it would be all right; Wilbur was just stressed; he didn't mean it.

But Techno couldn't move. The screaming and sobbing and roaring and panic and dread… it froze him. He couldn't breathe. The world was caving in.

His brother needed him, and he was having a fucking panic attack.

" WHY DON'T YOU EVER LISTEN, DAMMIT? DAD DOESN'T WANT YOU TO BE LOUD! TECHNOBLADE HATES LOUD NOISES! THAT'S ALL YOU ARE TOMMY! STRESSFUL!"

"WILBY I'M SORRY I'LL STOP I'M SORRY DAD I'M SORRY TECHY PLEASE I'M SORRY I'LL BE QUIET PLEASE STOP!"

"I won't let anyone hurt you, Tommy." Techno looked over at his brother. Hidden memories of Tommy in his bed, crying himself to sleep, resurfaced. "I love you so much. I won't let anyone hurt you." Techno's voice broke, and he started crying too. The brothers embraced, tears and traumatic memories and a sense of togetherness that hasn't been there for so long.

"I love you too, Techy." Tommy mumbled.

Kristin giggled at the sight of Phil hiding something behind his back. "Did you win something?" She leaned over as if she was trying to look behind his back. Phil chuckled weakly. Immediately Kristin knew something was up. 

"Kristin." Phil's voice was shaky as he sat beside her. "Look what I won." He held out his hands. Phil was holding a cute stuffed bird. Kristin smiled and cupped her hands together, letting Phil place it in her hold.  Something hard hit her palm, hiding below the bird. Kristin moved the bird and froze.

A small black box.

A ring box.

Wait-

"Kristin, I love you so much," Phil smiled. He still looked nervous. "I am so lucky we were able to meet and that we spent five hours talking about whatever, and I ended up not getting your phone number. I'm so lucky you were a teacher to my sons and that we were able to go on a date and eat that greasy pizza you swore your life on and watch the shitty movie that neither of us liked.

"I am so lucky that you were willing to meet my kids and care for them when they didn't want me. I am so lucky that you wanted to cook, that you can cook because I'm god awful at it, and without you, we'd all be dead from food poisoning. 

"I'm so lucky you stayed by me when I was struggling with my son's schooling, that you helped me and laughed with me, and I know that I want to be with you forever.

"So, I wanted to ask you, with a derp-looking crow, that I was lucky to win by complete accident," Phil took a deep breath, and Kristin chuckled through the happy tears. "Kristin, will you marry me?"

Kristin couldn't speak; she was too happy. She felt so much love for this goofball and much love for Wilbur, Technoblade, and Tommy. So much love for this funny bird toy. Kristin nodded, wrapped her arms around her boyfriend– fiance –and cried. They kissed, and a few passerby's clapped for them.

" Yes, yes, I love you, I love you. " Kristin managed to say.

Phil came home, high off pure joy and love, to find the house quiet. Phil looked at the time; it might be late enough for his younger two to be asleep. Phil quietly searched the house, unable to keep a grin off his face.

The grin was wider when he entered Techno's room. He found his boys cuddled up on the bed, Tommy fast asleep. Techno looked close to sleep, staring at the ceiling. His eyes immediately went to his Dad's, noticing the grin.

"Date go well?" Techno offered a small smile. Phil nodded. 

"How is Tommy?" Phil asked.

Techno sighed. "He spoke to me."

Philza froze, eyes wide. He had thought he heard Tommy speak earlier this week, but he wasn't sure, almost certain he was hearing things. 

Techno continued. "He's scared that if he keeps speaking, you or Wilbur will yell at him."

Philza frowned. He wasn't exactly sure what Wilbur told Tommy years ago, but he knew it had to be absolutely horrible.

"Well, let's not pressure him to speak," Phil suggested, looking over at his youngest.

Techno nodded.

"I'm very proud of him, Dad."

"Me too, Tech. Me too."

Chapter Text

        ...Wasting your time

"And I ran and ran, and I was so fast no one could catch me! Benji and Patricia were so mad, 'cause they thought Benji would be fastest, and Patricia is his girlfriend!" Tommy ran around the coffee table, climbed onto the couch, and jumped off, squealing in glee. His foot hit something, but Tommy didn't care; he was faster than Benji!

"How old is Patricia?" Techno bent over to pick up his book off the floor, frowning. "Aren't you guys only four?"

Tommy nodded. "Yep! But Patricia thinks she's so awesome 'cause she's taller than me, but I'm gonna be bigger than her cause boys are big! And fast!"

"Tommy, please be quiet." Wilbur scowled. He was standing next to Techno. "I've told you: Inside voices. "

"But I'm big and strong! A big man!" Tommy cheered, throwing his hands in the air and jumping. "I'm the bestest!"

Wilbur took a step towards Tommy. " Tommy , that is not being quiet!" Wilbur scolded. Tommy smiled. 

"Wilby, you can play tag with me! I'll show you how fast I am! I'll win again and again, and then I can tell Benji I'm faster than my brother! And you're eleven Wilby! I'll be even awesomer-"

Then Wilbur reached forward and grabbed Tommy by the shirt. It was Tommy's favorite shirt; it had a T-rex on it! A big and strong one! Tommy squealed and giggled. Techno leaped off the couch to make room for them.

"Wilby, that's not how you play tag-"

Wilbur started screaming. Tommy froze. Wilbur only yells when he's really mad. 

"Shut up! Shut up shut up SHUT UP!" Wilbur was scaring Tommy. "I don't care about your game, I don't care about what you can do. NO ONE CARES TOMMY! JUST SHUT THE FUCK UP! WE DON'T NEED TO HEAR YOU SPEAK! WE NEED YOU TO SIT DOWN AND FOR ONCE IN YOUR GODDAMN FUCKING LIFE SHUT UP!"

Tommy felt his eyes burn. No! Big men don't cry!

But Tommy didn't feel so big anymore. Wilbur had his hands beside Tommy's head. His brother was sitting on his legs. But his legs hurt; they were bent weird. Tommy couldn't run. All he could do was look at Wilby.

"I DON'T GIVE A SHIT ABOUT WHATEVER THE HELL BENJI OR PATRICIA SAID! YOU'RE NOT A BIG MAN, OR WHATEVER THE HELL YOU THINK YOU ARE! YOU'RE JUST AN ANNOYING STUPID CHILD!"

Tommy couldn't stop crying. His legs hurt! His ears hurt! Wilby, please stop! It's scary! I don't want to play like this!

"WHY DON'T YOU EVER LISTEN, DAMMIT? DAD DOESN'T WANT YOU TO BE LOUD! TECHNOBLADE HATES LOUD NOISES! THAT'S ALL YOU ARE TOMMY! STRESSFUL!"

Tommy started screaming apologies, started babbling and saying anything, praying that Wilbur would stop. But it made Wilbur even madder! He began to press his hands on Tommy's shoulder, shoving him into the couch over and over. 

You're hurting me! Tommy couldn't believe it. His Wilby? Wilbur was the coolest brother! He knew how to ride a bike and write his name! He wrote songs and played guitar and Tommy loved him! So, why was Wilbur's face red? Did Wilbur hate him?

Wilbur didn't stop screaming.

It was a long time before Wilbur came to his senses. Red and black left his vision. His chest was heaving. Tommy was shaking, caged in by Wilbur's arms. Wilbur jumped back, and Tommy immediately got up to run to his room. Wilbur winced as he watched his brother stumble, having lost feeling in his legs.

What did I do?

Wilbur didn't remember.

        ...You're wasting mine

The doctor entered the room, looking down at a clipboard. After seating himself at the small desk, the Doctor looked up at the patient and parent.

We ran tests , the doctor signed. Despite extreme scarring from neglected, long-lived ear infections and significant water damage to both ear canals and drums, your left ear seems to be available for a hearing aid. Your right one, unfortunately, is far too damaged.

Ranboo perked up. Even one hearing aid was amazing! He was so sure he wouldn't be able to get any after he heard about everything his ears went through. Apparently, the boy was born with tiny ear canals, which led to persistent ear infections, then water damage (which Ranboo wasn't exactly sure where he got that from). Ranboo was afraid of his chances to hear again.

To be honest, he didn't remember too much from before he was deaf or even before Annalise adopted him. Annalise told Ranboo that his house was abusive, which most likely gave Ranboo a specific type of amnesia. 

Annalise and the Doctor started talking about types of hearing aids and appointment times and schedules. Ranboo knew he should be paying attention. Instead, he stared at a printed photo of marshland at sunset. Or sunrise. The water looked really peaceful.

        ...I hate to see you leaving

Wilbur allowed a few tears to leak at the sight of his broken bike. He was on his way home from guitar lessons, and the chain popped off the gear. Wilbur had fallen and scraped his knee, but he was all right enough to walk the last block home. 

After getting antiseptic and a Band-Aid, the twelve-year-old went back to the garage to see what he could do. Wilbur would've asked Dad, but Dad was busy talking to Tommy's kindergarten teacher on the phone. So instead, Wilbur took the tablet that Tommy liked to use and opened up YouTube, searching for tutorials on how to do it himself.

After watching four different videos, despairing at the lack of proper tools, and shedding a few more tears when realizing that he couldn't bullshit his own tools, Wilbur sat on the dusty garage floor and stared at his guitar case. He must've forgotten to put it in his room. Wilbur had panicked when he first fell, afraid that it might have gotten damaged, but luckily it was perfectly intact.

"Wilbur?" The boy jumped and whipped his head to stare at his father, standing in the garage doorway. "Where is Tommy's tablet?"

Fear spiked in Wilbur's chest. "Right here." Wilbur got to his feet and held out the tablet. He watched nervously as Dad turned on the tablet, seeing it open on YouTube.

"Will," Dad looked mad. "This is Tommy's tablet. He uses it to talk to us . Why the hell do you have it?"

Wilbur refused to admit he was near tears again. "M-my bike broke and-nd I had t-to fix it, but yo-ou were busy so I-"

"So you took Tommy's tablet." Dad didn't say it in a way that invited Wilbur to respond. So Wilbur just stood there, shaking ever so slightly. "I'm very disappointed in you. We'll have a better talk when I get home." Dad went back into the house. Wilbur sent a sad glance to his bike, then followed inside.

"Where are you going?" Wilbur didn't look at five-year-old Tommy sitting on the kitchen floor, playing with pan lids.

"It's parent-teacher night. I need to talk to the teachers about Techno and Tommy," Dad reached down to give Tommy the Tablet and ruffle the blonde's hair. "Will, you're not allowed to be on the computer."

Wilbur nodded. Dad gave him oldest a hug and kissed his hair. "I still love you, Will. See you tonight." Dad spoke quietly.

"See you later," Wilbur whispered. He watched as Dad left the house. He watched as the car backed out of the parking lot and drove away.

        ...A fate worse than dying

Chapter Text

Annalise drove carefully, looking at the street signs. Ranboo sat in the passenger seat, fiddling with a Rubix cube. He had memorized the formulas and patterns to solve the toy, but making patterns with the squares helped calm his anxiety. His mom parked the car in front of a two-story house with a green yard. A half-deflated sports ball was covered in leaves and dried mud on the porch. Two bike wheels were leaning against the house, one looking rusty and the other looking a lot newer, though still neglected.

"Now, Ranboo," Annalise signed as she spoke. "I want you to be careful with your hearing aid. They are expensive. I also want you to be kind and listen to Mr. Craft, okay?"

Ranboo nodded. "Yes, Mom." 

"Okay, then go have fun. I love you, little star." She gave him a kiss on the cheek. Ranboo gave her a quick smile and opened the car door, Rubix cube in hand.

Tommy must have been waiting for Ranboo because the boy immediately opened the front door and poked his head out, grinning.

Hello friend! Tommy signed, letting Ranboo inside the house.

Hello, Ranboo quickly signed before looking around. The house looked a lot cleaner than his own house (there was always some sort of mess between Foolish's Legos and Rose's crafts). The walls were deep red, kind of brownish, and potted plants were everywhere. Some voices were coming from a room to the left.

Dad and Mom are in the kitchen planning their wedding, Tommy signed, pointing to the kitchen. Just to let you know. I don't want to bother them.

Ranboo remembered that Tommy didn't know about the hearing aid. 

Tommy, I got something to show you! He signed excitedly. Then he pulled the device out of his ear, holding it out proudly to his friend. Tommy looked at it for a moment before he recognized what it was.

You can hear stuff now? Tommy's smile grew even wider, looking… almost proud.

Ranboo put the device back in his ear, wrapping it around correctly, placing the anchor in the fold of his ear, and placing the speaker in his ear.

"I can hear now." Ranboo tried saying. He hadn't really tried talking too much, and he knew that his words wouldn't sound perfect. So Ranboo made sure to speak slowly. "I was super lucky to get one."

That's super cool! I'm happy for you! Tommy cheered. What is hearing like? Tommy led Ranboo upstairs as they spoke.

"I think I was able to hear when I was little." Ranboo glanced at the photos on the walls. Pictures of baby Tommy and his family, a pink-haired boy covered in dirt, and a brunette playing guitar on the stairs they just climbed (there were more, but those were the only ones Ranboo really looked at). "My ears were damaged."

Tommy opened his bedroom door, frowning. How? He asked, looking slightly concerned.

Ranboo wasn't sure how to pronounce all the words, so he signed instead. I would get a lot of ear infections, and I never went to a doctor for them.

Why didn't Annalise take you? Tommy's face hardened. He left his door open.

No, it wasn't Annalise. She adopted me. Ranboo explained hurriedly. My parents before weren't good people. I don't really remember what all happened, but they were arrested. Or at least my dad was. I don't know what happened to my mom.

Tommy nodded slowly. Okay. Tommy sat on his bed. Ranboo noticed that he had flower sheets. I have something to show you too. It's good you got the hearing aid.

Ranboo tilted his head. "What do you mean?"

Tommy grinned. "I've been talking."

Ranboo stared at him. What? "But, I thought you were mute? You said that in school and to my mom."

Tommy shrugged. "It's called selective mutism. Basically, my anxiety made it so I couldn't talk. I thought if I made a noise, I'd be hated, and my family wouldn't love me. The anxiety ended up kinda controlling me." His voice was rough, like the texture of gravel.

"What made you talk?" Ranboo sat on the floor, pulling out his Rubix cube.

Tommy's cheeks turned red, and he looked down at his lap, and his mouth moved a bit.

"What?" Ranboo questioned, moving a tiny bit closer.

"You did." Tommy reached up and pulled at his curls. "When I first went over to your house. I haven't had friends in… a long time. I was so excited and happy, and my hands just… couldn't express enough. So I spoke. I've… slowly started speaking in front of Dad and Techno, and nothing bad happened."

Something felt off. "What, what do you mean 'nothing bad happened'?" Ranboo moved a tad closer. "Did something bad happen… before?"

Ranboo's blood went cold when Tommy nodded. What? What happened to Tommy?

"I, uh, don't remember all the details," Tommy frowned. "But I was really loud as a kid, and my brother Wilbur screamed at me. He said some… pretty bad things. I… stayed silent. Cause that's what everyone wanted. I learned that if I make noise, then I…." Tommy trailed off. 

Ranboo moved to sit next to Tommy. That must be horrible, to live in fear of your family. Though, the idea wormed into Ranboo's brain, something flickering in the back of his mind. 

I understand, Ranboo realized. He understood this boy, his best friend, better than he thought. He might not remember everything from his past, and he might not know everything about Tommy's, but they were kindred souls.

How do you solve that? Tommy signed, pointing to the Rubix cube. Ranboo, grateful for the topic change, started to explain.

They both spent the day playing, Tommy showing his friend Techno's garden, Ranboo meeting Kristin in the kitchen, the two playing Mario Kart. Their conversations were spoken with hands and voices. 

They were growing. Healing. 

         …Shout at the wall.

In a city an hour away, a man stood on the roof. The only thing growing was the thought that plagued his mind. The knife in his coat pocket was bloody, and the bandages wrapped around his wrists were red, some of them hiding festering wounds. He refused to care for them. He deserved this pain, the red fog that surrounded his head. He deserved to lose his limbs.

         …'Cause the walls don't fucking love you.

Chapter Text

Techno's life has always been, in a large part, defined by colors. The pale blonde of his father, the brown of his older brother, the gold of his younger brother. The bright pink he dyes his hair, the purple and blue on his baby brother's body, evidence of bullying. The bright red on bathroom counters, dripping onto ceramic tiles. Spattered along pale walls, cleaned up by the one who shattered the home. There was the blank brown of his brother's eyes, signs that he was alone, felt isolated. Techno tried at first, to regain a connection with Will, but Will always turned him away. Maybe Technoblade should've tried harder.

Kristin had to leave tonight, welcoming her parents and sisters to town, eating dinner with them. So Phil ordered pizza for the family to eat. Dinner buzzed with the excitement and anticipation of tomorrow's event. The wedding. Tommy stayed mute the past few days, only talking the few times Ranboo showed up. 

I have a question, Tommy signed, hands shaking.

"What is it?" Phil smiled softly at his youngest.

I don't want to tell Will that I talk. Tommy looked down at the table. 

"Oh," Phil frowned. "Why not?" 

Tommy couldn't stop his hands from shaking, stopping him from responding. Techno had an idea why. It honestly wasn't even that hard to figure out.

"Last time Tommy spoke to Wilbur, Wilbur yelled at him and gave him anxiety." Techno grunted. "It makes sense that Tommy isn't too keen to talk to him right now. He's still healing." Techno glanced at Tommy, who was nodding in agreement.

Phil hesitated, but nodded in agreement. "Sure mate, I won't tell Will." Phil took a breath. "But at some point, I do want you to tell him. It doesn't have to be tomorrow, or even this month, but I don't think it's fair to keep something so wonderful from him for too long."

Tommy frowned. Okay. Thank you for understanding. 

Trains are loud. Trains are dirty. Strangers garbed in brown, faces lit by the blue of their phones, surrounded Wilbur. The lines on their faces matched the ones on his.

Niki had found him on the roof, fever-ridden and arms leaking white pus, the wounds festering just like his thoughts. She took Will to the hospital and got him healed. They took him from the college dorm and placed him in her apartment, under watchful eyes.

It was only because of Niki that Wilbur was able to go to his Dad's wedding.

The house was busy, full of strangers. Wilbur towered over the people he assumed to be Kristin's family. They just gave him a passing glance then continued doing whatever they were doing. 

Grimacing, Wilbur made his way up the stairs, hoping his room wasn't being used for something else. He opened the door, and was relieved to find it exactly as he left it at the beginning of the semester. Good. Wilbur didn't know what he would do if he lost his room.

The man looked out his window, watching Phil and Kristin's work friends laugh and joke with the Bride and Groom. The idea of smiling and laughing made Will exhausted, a prickly feeling in his chest. He really didn't want to be here. But he was, for Kristin.

Something about Kristin stuck out to Wilbur. She was always kind to him, sweet in a way that sometimes made Wilbur feel like she was able to see through him. Kristin would be able to tell if he was lying about breaking something, and could tell when he took the blame for things he did not do. She spoke with him, letting him rant. Wilbur was always afraid of spilling too much, lest she find out about the scars and starvation and fog in his head.

Kristin was the one who looked up at Wilbur through the window, smiling and waving. The action caught Wilbur off guard, and he hesitantly waved back.

She wore a simple white dress, with a thin jeweled belt and long, flowy sleeves. She didn't have her veil, or a bouquet. Wilbur spared a glance at the clock on his phone. The wedding was in an hour. The man chuckled at Kristin's impatience, and lifted his gaze to the backyard, only for Kristin and Phil to be missing. They must've gone inside.

Wilbur stared at the grass for a second, before going to one of his suitcases he abandoned by the door. His only suit was inside, he needed to get dressed.

Kristin smiled and grinned so much her cheeks hurt, but today was going to be amazing. Kristin was a tad nervous that something could go wrong, and she distracted herself by talking to everyone. Her sisters gave her encouragement, her fellow teachers were almost as excited as she was. Phil was going over everyone who was in charge of some aspect of the wedding, double and triple-checking that everything was going as planned.

Kristin took a deep breath and knocked on a door. After a moment, the door cracked upon to show Techno, hair out of its usual braid, looking tired.

"Can I come in?" Kristin made sure her voice was soft. Techno nodded, and opened his door wider.

Techno went to sit on his bed, and Kristin sat beside him. 

"It's a lot of people, huh?" Kristin asked. Techno only nodded. "Are you verbal?" He shook his head. "Do you want me to talk or to sign?" Kristin flattened her dress, a nervous habit.

Sign. Techno answered.

Okay. Sorry about the noise. Kristin sent a glance to the door, which muffled the noises that came from the guests.

It could be worse. I'll be fine. Techno replied.

Wilbur frowned at his suit, but left his room anyways, not excited for the guest to talk to him. If he could, Wilbur would stay in his room, watching the event from his window. But that's unfair to Phil and Kristin. So out he goes.

God help him.

There really aren't that many people. It could be worse. He'll be fine.

Techno gave Kristin a smile as she left, closing the door softly behind her. She was lovely.

Techno already put on his suit. Phil was really nice when picking it out. It wasn't too itchy or restricting. If it were, Techno might've flipped out. 

After a few deep breaths, Techno grabbed a stim toy and his headphones. If he needs it, it'll block out the noise. Next objective: leave his room. Which he did. Immediately. Didn't hesitate. Definitely not.

Five more minutes.

Kristin must have passed Wilbur at some point. She went upstairs to check on him, knocked on his door. When he didn't answer, she opened the door a sliver, making sure everyone was okay. But he wasn't there. It's all right though. Kristin was half-afraid that the oldest would just hide out in the room.

Kristin closed the door and moved to Tommy's door, knocking loudly. The door was opened by a tall boy, close to Techno’s age. He was blonde and had blue eyes. 

"Can I come in?" Kristin asked Dream, making sure to sign a translation. Dream nodded, and opened the door wider.

Inside, Tommy was building Legos with Ranboo and his brother and cousin. Everyone turned their heads to look at Kristin. Dream and Foolish both had two hearing aids, while Ranboo had his one.

"Tommy," Kristin signed while she spoke. "Be in your suit before the ceremony. It's in thirty minutes."

Tommy gave a forlorn gaze to the Lego build (a gray tower?) Then stood up, grabbing a large white package on a hanger, and left the room, presumably going to the bathroom to change.

Thank you for inviting us. Foolish signs. He seemed to have built a pyramid.

"No problem. You guys have helped Tommy so much. You're our friends." Kristin gave the boys a large smile, ignoring her sore cheeks. "You guys should maybe find your moms."

They smiled and left Tommy's room. Why couldn't all kids be that obedient? Kristin smiled to herself, and headed downstairs.

Wilbur smiled and chatted his way around the living room, searching for a face he recognized. Everyone was busy going here and there, holding decorations or babies or each other, meeting and greeting and saying hello and talking. Wilbur managed to slip out from the crowd, nearing the back door. Then Techno's bedroom door opened, revealing Techno himself.

The brothers froze at the sight of each other. The last time they saw each other was back on Christmas. Wilbur threw away his favorite sweater. Techno discovered the blood on the sink. Wilbur didn't see that event himself, but he felt the way his brother watched him the rest of the holiday. He had a feeling Techno knew what was going on. He had in the past, anyhow.

"Uh, hi?" Wilbur shrugged, pathetically waving a hand.

Techno gave the man a small, tense smile. Hello.

"Uh," Wilbur's gaze flicked around, searching for an escape. "Uhh… I'm gonna go… get a drink "

Wilbur turned around and went to the kitchen. He can't deal with this day, he can't deal with these people. 

Oh thank god there is wine. Wilbur snatched a glass from the cupboard and filled it half way, taking large gulps. It was bitter, but Wilbur didn't deserve a nice drink.

"Wilbur?"

The man jumped, and spun around, his glass spilling liquid everywhere. There, a frown on her face, stood Kristin.

"Are you all right?" She asked. 

Wilbur took a deep breath, ragged throat. "I… I don't want to take from your day." He said weakly. Please leave me alone. Let me wallow in my own self hatred.

"You spilled wine all over yourself." Sure enough, deep red started to spread on Wilbur’s chest and arms. It reminded him of blood. Kristin grabbed his arm, and dragged him upstairs, towards the room at the end of the hall. Phil's room.

"Phil might have an extra suit." Kristin said. Wilbur didn't think so, but it doesn't hurt to look.

Philza's room had a bunch of boxes stacked around. An open box containing makeup told Will that these were Kristin's. Kristin let go of Wilbur to search the closet. "Take off that jacket, maybe the white shirt is clean." 

Wilbur slowly removed his jacket, looking over his arms. The white shirt underneath was long-sleeved, but the material was thin. But Kristin shouldn't notice anything.

Kristin turned around, holding two suit jackets. One was dark gray, while the other was a deep green. 

"I can't find any pants to go with these, but the gray one doesn't look too different." Kristin held the gray one up to Wilbur's chest, checking the color. "Your pants are pretty close." She moved the jacket away, analyzing the white shirt. "I hope that isn't stained." Kristin murmured.

Then she froze.

Oh fuck she froze.

"What…?" Wilbur couldn't move as Kristin gripped his wrist, pulling the sleeve up. There, for the world to see, bright red line upon bright red line, pale pinks and puckered skin. Kristin ran a finger over raised marks and deep indents, her eyes full of pain and grief.

"What is this?" She whispered. 

Wilbur couldn't talk. What do you even say here? Kristin looked up at his face. Tears were building up in his eyes, blurring the details.

Leave me alone Leave me alone Leave me alone.

        ...Your city gave me asthma

Wilbur watched his dad drive away, taking Techno to classes designed for Autistic kids and their parents. He turned around to see Tommy bolt upstairs, afraid of his brother. It's only been a few months since Wilbur yelled at Tommy. Tommy still hasn't said a word.

        ...So that's why I'm fucking leaving

Wilbur sat in his room, tears streaming down his face. His room was in shambles, broken toys and shattered music discs strewn about. Bleeding knuckles and bruised hands.

His dad told him to be quiet.

Wilbur was asking about a school field trip! They were going to a museum of music!

But Dad was too busy learning to sign with Tommy. They were sitting in front of a laptop, copying the people on screen.

Deep down, Wilbur knew he was overreacting. He could probably talk to dad later, after his lesson. Will didn't need to go and destroy his room!

Stupid kid. Stupid boy. Throwing a tantrum, you're 11! Act your age you stupid dumb child!

Wilbur's hand shot out, and wrapped around something painful, cutting into his fingers and palm. Distantly, the pain registered as something light, slicing through the dark fog in his mind. Wilbur looked up at what was in his hands. A shard, all that was left of a music disc. It was his favorite band. The disc that he used to share with Tommy, was now being used as a punishment. 

Hands shaking, the disc was pressed against a forearm. With an exhale, the shard was pressed against skin, until it split.

        ...and your water gave me cancer

"I'm fine," Wilbur's voice cracked. He dropped his head on Kristin's shoulder, sobbing. "I'm okay I'm okay." He lied.

        …and the pavement hurt my feelings

"Wilbur," Kristin wrapped her arms around her son. "Do you want to talk about it?"

A hesitant nod.

"Okay." Kristin said. "I'll start. I'm very sorry for moving your sleeves. I know that was wrong of me. I shouldn't have forced you to show me."

Wilbur didn't know exactly why she was apologizing, but he appreciated it anyhow. It… made him feel better.

And so he told her. Wilbur explained the fog, the thoughts. The desire to fall from the rooftop, the desire to slice his harm, leaving the wounds to fester and infect, red and swollen and making him sick. How he felt he deserved all of this punishment and Isolation. He explained how Phil had left him alone most of the time, while spending so much time with Tommy and Techno. He explained how hated being jealous of his siblings, because he knew they had a harder time doing things. He explained how he had, in a moment of desperation, caved in to the horrid thoughts and sliced his arm open. He explained how he hated the constant pain, hated the smell of blood, tired of the anxiety that the scars gave him.

Wilbur mentioned Niki. Niki, the friend who keeps him sane, who makes sure he heals, who loves him. And he loved her, a family who was there for each other, and did their best to help each other, even if they both didn't know what was needed.

When Wilbur finished, his eyes had gone dry, his voice was hoarse. He felt numb. Empty. Cold. His mind was dark, but there was no fog, and the itchy wrong that heavily clutched at his lungs was loosened, lighter.

Wilbur noticed one of his scars had torn open, and he was sitting on the bed. Kristin was patient, nodding and wrapping a bandage around the bleeding wound.

"Thank you." Wilbur whispered.

"No problem." Kristin leaned over, pressing a kiss into his hair. "Wilbur, I am so proud of you for opening up and talking about it, I know it isn't easy. And I know that everyone goes through different things, and that everyone's experiences are different, but do you mind if I share my experience?"

Wilbur nodded.

        ...Shout at the walls

"My childhood was fairly normal. My parents were nice, school was good, and I had a few good friends. Nothing was really… bad. 

"But at some point, when I was fifteen, I just hit a slump. I could barely get out of bed, I stopped talking to people… I didn't eat or drink or anything.  I just… slept. And wondered why I felt the way I did.

"I don't remember why, or when, but after a few months of just lying in bed, I finally got up, got out of my room, immediately locked myself in the bathroom… and started cutting. I think I just… wanted control over myself. It was something I had lost, or I felt like I lost. Looking back, it… doesn't make sense to me, but I somehow started using the cutting as motivation. It became a horrible habit."

"Around college, I got more desperate. I wanted to pass, I started to struggle, and the harming got worse. Then one day, I didn't bandage properly, or my sleeve slipped, and a teacher saw. He got me the help I needed, even if I didn't want it at the time."

        ...Cause the walls don't fucking love you

Kristin pulled up one of her sleeves. Faint, faded old scars lined her skin here and there. 

"I mostly marked my legs and stomach." She said, openly, non-judgmental. "It took me years to stop. I had to replace the 'energy' that cutting gave me, and it gave me a bad caffeine addiction, which I'm still dealing with to this day."

Wilbur didn't say anything. He just sat there, comparing his arm to Kristin's. Pink and red compared to silver and white. 

"I've been clean for a few years now," Kristin said quietly. 

"That's amazing." Wilbur's fingertips felt cold.

"Will, I just want you to know that I'll always be here for you," Kristin smiled, face shining with tears. "I'll do my best to give you what you need, okay?"

"Okay." Wilbur watched as Kristin pulled both of their sleeves down. Which was a blessing because someone opened the door. It was a woman with hearing aids.

"Hello Annalise." Kristin took a few deep breaths.

"Is everything okay?" Annalise asked, worried.

Kristin nodded and got to her feet. "Everything is okay. Wilbur and I were just bonding."

Annalise relaxed. "I'm Annalise, Ranboo's mom."

"Wilbur, Phil's kid." Wilbur put the gray jacket on, and shook the woman's hand. "Who's Ranboo?"

"Tommy's friend from school."

        …There's a reason,

        London puts barriers on the tube line

"Oh." Wilbur responded lamely. Tommy has a friend? That's good.

"The ceremony is getting ready to start, we didn't know where you were." Annalise laughed. "I'm happy I found you."

        ...There's a reason,

        London puts barriers on the rails

"Uh," Wilbur tapped on Kristin's shoulder. She turned around, looking like she never cried. "Why is Tommy's friend's mom here? At your wedding?" 

"What do you mean?" Kristin halted at the top of the stairs.

Wilbur thought over his words carefully. He didn't want to be rude. "Wedding guests are normally connected to the bride and groom, but Annalise is connected to Tommy, so I was just wondering why she was invited."

"Oh, well they're here as special guests." Kristin grinned. "Ranboo was the kid who got Tommy to start talking."

What?

Kristin immediately got sucked into the crowd of people, getting ushered out to the backyard. Everyone was going to get seated, to watch the wedding, the joining of two people bound by love.

Wilbur stood still. The air was cold, he was numb.

Tommy can talk?

Wilbur followed the crowd outside, searching for his brother. The one whose life he ruined, the one he traumatized, the baby brother who still flinches at loud noises, and doesn't look Wilbur in the eyes.

The little boy who can talk, who has grown up and made friends and can talk.

It felt like the end of the world. 

Will didn't know why, he should be proud! But… something ugly and disgusting writhed and squirmed underneath his skin, thoughts as sharp as toxic thorns pierced his brain. Something snapped, just like Wilbur did when he was eleven. Wilbur back then screamed and shouted and Wilbur now was silent, couldn't hear his own breathing.

Something big happened that day. But no one noticed as a mother in white walked down the aisle.

        ...There's a reason,

           They fail.

Chapter Text

Niki left a few hours ago. She had family to visit, and Niki had offered to deliver a birthday present for Tommy.

Wilbur wasn't able to go. He was unwashed, unmotivated, lethargic, and self-hating, practically catatonic. Niki had asked their friends Eret and Fundy to watch over him. Suicide watch, ya'know?

So Wilbur stayed on his messy, sweaty bed, unmoving and eyes staring at the ceiling. His door was open, and he could hear the television. His babysitters were watching TV.

The man frowned. Seems so trivial now. 

His baby brother could talk. Yeah, Will reckoned he shouldn't be making a big deal about it, he should be happy, etc. But, Tommy's silence was something that defined Wilbur, as sick as it sounds. Silence was the reason why Wilbur was distant from his family, why he has scars on his arms. 

And now suddenly all of it is… gone.

Tommy stayed in his room for a week. He was pulled out of school. The rest of the house was silent. Phil sat in his room, the door closed. Wilbur and Techno sat across the dinner table.

"This is all your fault." Technoblade didn't say it with any anger, just matter-of-factly. He was only eight.

Wilbur was twelve. "I know."

It's noon. Niki should already be at Tommy's, handing over his present. Fundy and Eret were talking about what to get for lunch. Wilbur didn't respond to any of their questions. He wasn't going to eat.

"Okay, subs then?" Eret asked. Fundy must've nodded or something because a few seconds later, Eret walks into Wilbur's room, phone in hand. They ask Wilbur what type of sandwich he wants. Wilbur faintly recalls his usual order, but he knew he wasn't going to eat it.

Wilbur might throw up if he eats anything.

Eret leaves to grab the food. Fundy stays in the living room. Wilbur thinks Fundy might be dozing off.

With a deep breath, Wilbur lifts himself until he is sitting up. Already the man is shaky, black spots in his vision, hunger pains racking through his body. But Wilbur pushes on, grabbing his laptop on the floor.  He opens it up and types in the long password. 

The wallpaper is bare. Wilbur goes to the files and grabs a video file, putting it into a small flash drive that Wilbur used for college essays, ejecting the small block. Then Wilbur wiped the computer, resetting everything, destroying all signs of use. Wilbur opened up the laptop and went to the settings, resetting the long password that he's memorized and adding the password hint:

Happy Birthday

Satisfied after testing the new password and hint a few times, Wilbur plugged in the flash drive, downloaded the one file, and dropped it on the desktop.

I'm_Sorry.MP4

Wilbur took a deep breath, closed the laptop, and set it aside. He jumped as the front door opened, and Eret yelled at Fundy for falling asleep.

The two were surprised to see Wilbur sitting up and were even more surprised when Wilbur took a bite of his sandwich and asked for a cup of water.

Wilbur found his resolve. He needs to be a bit stronger. 

The train station is a mile away.

Niki smiled as the car pulled up to the Craft house. She thanked the driver and tipped them.

A few other cars were in the driveway, and Niki could see balloons from one of the windows. They went up to the front door and rang the doorbell. 

An older man opened the door. He had long blond hair and kind eyes. "Oh, hello." He phrased his greetings like a question.

Niki smiled. "Hello, I'm Niki, Wilbur's friend. I just came by to drop off Tommy's birthday present." Niki held out a thick envelope. At Phil's confusion, they explained: "Wilbur was too sick to come, but I promised to drop off the letter on my way to my family's reunion."

The man - Philza, if Niki remembered his name right - took the letter and stepped aside. "Do you want to come in?" He offered, but Niki shook her head.

"No, thank you, I need to be going." Niki politely said. "Have a good day."

"You too," Philza said as she turned around to leave. He closed the door and returned to his son's birthday party

Chapter Text

"Happy birthday dear Tommy, happy birthday to you!" Everyone sang, and Ranboo signed. Tommy grinned at his family and blew out the two candles that showed 15.

Everyone cheered and clapped, and someone rang the doorbell. Phil excused himself and answered it while Kristin cut and served the cake.

Tommy licked the frosting off the candles, joy clear on his face. On his head is a red beanie, with a pin of Sam Nook slightly to the right. The beanie was a present from Ranboo.

"Chocolate!" Tommy exclaimed as he took a big bite of (chocolate) cake. Ranboo rolled his eyes and started eating his slice too. 

"You eat like such an animal." Techno shook his head. 

"You're an animal!" Tommy retorted, with his mouth full. Techno grimaced and set his slice of cake aside.

Phil came back in, confused and holding an envelope. 

"What's that?" Tommy's mouth was empty this time.

"It's, uh, Wilbur's present." Philza frowned. "His friend Niki came over to drop it off."

"Why?" Tech and Tommy asked.

Phil shrugged. "She said he was sick." Phil handed the letter to his youngest. "Happy birthday."

Tommy took the letter and examined it. The envelope was pale yellow, and thick, like it was full of stuff. Tommy's name was written on the front in blue pen. The name was shaky and looked like it was done in a rush. 

"So are we doing presents?" Techno asked. 

Tommy shrugged. Sure, He signed. Techno got to his feet and dashed to his room, and Phil pulled out a box wrapped in Christmas wrapping.

"Here you go mate." Phil smiled. Tommy grinned and set the envelope aside; He wasn't too eager to read what Wilbur wrote.

Tommy tore the wrapping and opened the box. Inside was a stuffed toy. Tommy pulled it out and was faced with a large black spider.

"Aww," Tommy looked it over. "I'm gonna call him Shroud." 

Techno came forward with an unwrapped flat box. "This is only the first half." Tommy took the box and opened the box, revealing two large vinyls. 

"They're, uh, video game soundtracks." Techno explained. "The vinyl player is still getting delivered."

Tommy looked up at his brother. "Dude! This is so cool!" He couldn't wait to be able to play them.

Tommy purposefully forgot about the letter, waiting until he was alone in his room. Something told him that Wilbur's words were for Tommy specifically.

Late at night, with shaky fingers, Tommy carefully opened the envelope, making sure to not make too much noise. 

Two pieces of paper fell out. One was orange construction paper, the other was simple lined notebook paper. Tommy grabbed the orange one first. It was small, about as thick as the envelope and nearly half as long. 

Remember 

SSdtIFNvcnJ5

:)

Confused, Tommy turned to the lined paper. Wilbur's quick writing filled up the page, with an even more chaotic postscript that was written in pencil, not pen like everything else. There was a date in the corner, set before the wedding.

Dear Tommy,

I want to preface this with words I should have said a long time ago; I'm sorry. I know that everything happened many years ago, but I feel like I still need to say it.

To be honest, I have grown up angry and bitter, feeling isolated, and refusing to see that that isolation was caused by my own actions. I was rude, unresponsive, and selfish. I wanted attention, but I thought I didn't deserve it. The truth is that I didn't try to earn it.

I am ashamed to say that everything seemed to stem from our shared traumatic childhood experience. My view of life, my view of my family, and how I chose to live.

You are so amazing Tommy. You faced so much at a young age, but you never let your disabilities stop you from being our sunshine. You never stopped joking and loving. And you were kind to me, even after all that I did, even though I never apologized. 

You're going to school, you're probably making friends, you're growing beyond your past, becoming bigger than your trials. It's amazing.

Every day, I want to be more like you. I love you so much, and I wish you a happy 15th birthday.

Maybe you can visit me in the summer?

Love, 

Wilbur

p.s. I just got back from the wedding and read this letter over, and I realized I never really explained my side of things. Most of the time, I don't think I need a 'my side' since I knew you were the victim, and you were affected a whole lot more than I was, but I really blamed myself, and I feel like I had some hard stuff happen to me too. I don't know if maybe we can have a heart-to-heart at some point, air stuff out. I think I would benefit, and I think you would too.

Tommy stared at the letter, reading it twice more. Glancing back at the orange paper, wondering what the hell he'd do with a bunch of numbers and letters.

Wilbur's letter wasn't as bad as he feared it would be. It seemed honest, and from the heart. Wilbur wanted Tommy over for the summer, to have a talk about everything. 

Tommy asked Phil about it the next day. Phil thought it was a fantastic idea. 

Summer starts next week.

Chapter Text

Suitcase in hand, earbuds in, eyes closed. Soft music playing in his head. Tommy watched the sunlight pass through the train's windows. Tommy glanced at fellow passengers. Their faces were grim. 

Tommy wasn't grim.

Tommy was nervous. Not too nervous, the birthday envelope in Tommy's backpack assured him that he would be okay. Wilbur wants to spend time with his brother. Wilbur loves him. They would talk and everything would get better.

The signs above the doors changed to show the next stop. The blonde boy kept bouncing his leg. Squealing brakes and the grainy voice telling them to depart, this is your stop echoed past Tommy's earbuds. He got to his feet, dragging the suitcase, careful to not push anyone else as they departed.

The station was underground, unlike the overground station back home. Sorta strange if you ask Tommy. But no one did. They walked off to their next destination, their family or friends. Tommy searched for Wilbur, but couldn't find him. 

Hmm.

The boy pulled out his phone, looking at the directions Phil gave him. This seemed to be the right stop, the closest one to the college. Maybe Wilbur is late?

Thirty minutes later, and Tommy's knee hasn't stopped bouncing. Really, all he had to do was call Wilbur, but nerves wouldn't allow it. The envelope in his backpack wasn't enough to calm him.

But he can't stay in the train station all week.

Tommy pulled out his phone and sent a text.

Tommy: Hey, I'm at Grove Station. Where are you?

Tommy chewed at his fingernails. There wasn't really anything to chew anymore, they were already so short.

His phone pinged and Tommy flinched, accidentally tossing his phone. Embarrassed, Tommy quickly picked it up and sat down again, opening the phone and reading the text.

Wilby: Grove Station? Not Lee Lines?

Tommy frowned. 

Tommy: No? I'm near the college? Where are you?

Wilby: I live with my friend Niki. They stay closer to Lee Lines. Hold on tight, we'll come pick you up.

Tommy sent a thumbs up and got to his feet, pocketing his phone and taking a deep breath. All right, not embarrassing, Wilbur didn't tell anyone he lived somewhere else, that's not Tommy's issue.

Tommy climbed the stairs, leaving the station and squinting in the sunlight, which was now slightly covered by clouds. But the sky was still fairly clear. There, under a tree, was a bench. Tommy sat there, hands on his luggage. He doesn't know how honest people are in the city.

Tommy knew when someone sat next to him, and a quick glance told him it was an adult. One he didn't know. So Tommy just ignored him. The stranger was nice enough to sit on the other side of the bench, leaving space in between.

"You seem nervous." The stranger's voice was deep. A small chill flashed down Tommy's spine. But Tommy didn't feel like he was in danger. Tommy turned to look at the stranger.

It was just a normal man, pale and tall. He wore black clothes that hid his frame. 

"Hello. My name is Morgan. Sorry for bothering you." The man smiled. Tommy shrugged.

T-O-M-M-Y, he signed.

"Hello, Tommy." Morgan looked at the people surrounding them. "Why are you so nervous?"

Something compelled Tommy to sign. A warm feeling that settled in his fingertips. I'm going to visit my brother. We don't have a good relationship. I'm afraid it will go badly.

Morgan nodded. "That does sound nerve wracking. You're brave for going anyway."

Tommy shrugged again. 

"Tell me, why does your brother deserve to talk to you?" Morgan asked, turning to look at the younger boy.

Tommy didn't lift his hands to talk. He just tilted his head back, looking at the sky. Some clouds were coming in, but the sky was still fairly blue.

"I don't…" Tommy trailed off. "I want to be comfortable around my family. I hate being afraid. I hate getting paralyzed, and I can't sign or talk and I'm just… stuck in my head." Morgan hummed. His long fingers fiddled with the hem of his clothes. Tommy took a deep breath and continued. "I feel like Wilbur isn't doing too well though. I want to show him I'm getting better, so he can stop feeling guilty or like I hate him, or whatever he thinks."

Morgan got to his feet. Damn, he is tall. It's sort of unsettling. "If I may put in my two cents: Tommy, you are doing the best you can with what you have been given, and for that I applaud you. But, remember, it's not up to you to forgive. It's up to Wilbur to apologize, in person." Tommy felt the weight of the letter in his bag. "If I were you, I would go straight to my brother, and tell him you are ready to heal, and make sure he knows that this is his responsibility. Take a deep breath, relax. Things will work out." 

Morgan took a step forward. "Thank you for talking with me, Tommy. But now, I must go. Sadly, today is not my day off. Goodbye."

Goodbye, Tommy signed, even though Morgan wouldn't have been able to see it walking away.

"Tommy!" A small car pulled over, and a pink haired girl called through the window. Tommy stood up and approached her.

"Hello?" Tommy frowned.

"Hi! I'm Niki, Wilbur's roommate. He said he texted you?" Sure enough, Wilbur sent a message a few minutes ago.

"Oh, okay." Tommy swallowed his disappointment while he and Niki put the bags and suitcases in the trunk, and Tommy sat in the passenger seat. Where was Wilbur? 

Niki's apartment wasn't too far away from where Tommy ended up. The complex was smaller than others, and looked relatively clean. Niki and Tommy grabbed the luggage and pulled them up the stairs.

"Sorry the elevator is broken."

"It's fine."

Niki opened their apartment door, on the third floor. Inside was full of random knick knacks and plants, all feminine. The couches were clean and the kitchen sink was full of bowls. A bag of cheerios was left out on the counter. 

"Bathroom is over here," Niki pointed to the door on the left wall, to the right of the television. "The doors over there are mine and Wilbur's. He went out to buy more food, that's why I picked you up."

Tommy nodded. He was still disappointed, but yeah, things don't line up all the time. Makes sense. Everything is fine. Take a deep breath, relax.

"Which one is Will's room?" Tommy turned to see Niki frowning at the clock on the wall.

"The left one." She said absently.

Tommy dragged his suitcase behind him and opened the door. The doorknob was those black ones with a long horizontal handle. Niki's bedroom door had a silver round knob. Tommy shot a glance to the bathroom, and the knob there was silver and round.

Tommy opened the door and walked in. He didn't know what he was expecting. The room had less personality than the living room. The bedsheets were golden brown, only three textbooks laid on their sides on the small bookshelf. Clothes and hangers were spilling out of the closet, as if Wilbur rushed cleaning his room. The corners of the room and the top of most surfaces were stained, and there was the hint of an unhappy smell in the room.

Like a depressive episode, one that had just passed. And the room hasn't healed yet.

Wilbur's bed had a laptop on it. There was a post-it note. It's blue. Tommy dropped his bags and sat on the bed. It was uncomfortable, too springy.

Tommy, please open

He really didn't want to. But Tommy did anyway. There was a password. Fuck. Tommy doesn't know a password.

Tommy hummed and closed the laptop. What the hell would be the password? Why would Wilbur ask him to open the laptop and then lock him out of the laptop?

Tommy

Wrong password.

Tommyopen

Wrong password.

Post-itnote

Wrong password.

Wilburyoubitch

Wrong password.

Hint: Happy Birthday

…

Wilbur you are a bitch.

Tommy jumped up and grabbed his backpack, ripping it open and searching for the envelope. When he found it underneath some clothes Tommy opened it and grabbed the orange paper.

"Capital S, S…dtl...capital FN, vcn...J...5." Tommy mumbled.

The lock screen lifted. The wallpaper was the default windows screen, blank and blue. Slightly offset was a file.

I'm_Sorry.MP4 

A video file. Tommy unplugged the earbuds from his phone and connected them to the laptop. He took a deep breath and opened the file.

It automatically started playing. Wilbur was sitting on top of a roof, orange light spilling from the surrounding city. Wilbur was dressed warmly, holding a guitar.

"Niki thinks I scrapped this song. I, uh, didn't. So, here we go." Wilbur's voice was grainy, but loud.

Wasting your time,

And you're wasting mine….

Wilbur strummed his guitar, singing words of heartbreak and pain, of sadness and desire. His voice cracked and at times was gritty. Cars kept honking every once in a while, but Tommy was able to hear every word. 

Tommy started to cry. 

Shout at the walls,

Cause the walls don't fucking love you

Tommy understood the song, or at least, understood what his brother was saying. Wilbur I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.

Wilbur strummed his guitar harder, and Tommy could see that tears were running down his face. 

The next words Tommy could tell he forced out. It sounded nothing like the beautiful sad song it was a minute ago. Now its fueled by anger.

There's a reason,

They put barriers on the Lee line

There's a reason,

They put barriers on the rails

There's a reason,

They put barriers on the Lee line

There's a reason,

They fail.

The Wilbur on the screen looked up at the camera, a tortured expression on his face. He stared at whoever would be watching the recording, if anyone was meant to.

Tommy had already yanked out his earbuds and ran out into the living room.

"Niki!" Tommy was loud. He's never loud anymore. "Where is Lee Line?"

Niki was startled. There's no time!

"A mile north, why?"

But they never got their response. Tommy dashed out the front door, slipping down the stairs.

The clouds came in, holding rain. The sky is no longer blue.

Chapter Text

Wilbur snorted at the miscommunication. Of course Tommy went to the wrong station. And while the whole thing was funny, it really ruined Wilbur's plans.

So Wilbur just sighed and turned around to leave the station, climbing up the stairs and keeping his head down. Storm clouds were coming in, and it was gonna get cold, Wilbur could tell.

Originally, Will was going to take Tommy from the train station and immediately go get some ice cream, start some small talk, and maybe lead into the big conversations that the two brothers needed to have. But that's not gonna happen now.

A Cafe caught his eye, and Wilbur grinned. He could still pick up a treat. So Wilbur quickly crossed the street and entered the Cafe, shivering at the warmth and looking around. There were only two customers, a frazzled-looking woman ordering at the counter, and a black-haired man with a cup of black coffee, sitting by the window, staring at the crowds. He glanced at Wilbur, meeting his eyes, then went back to people-watching.

Will stood behind the woman, eyeing the menu. What should he get Tommy? A hot chocolate? Or does he like coffee? Maybe Tommy prefers tea, Because Will just saw the tea part of the menu and Wilbur is becoming more aware of how much he's missed out on Tommy's life.

"Sir?" The barista pulled him from his thoughts. Wilbur jumped and looked at the kid. A teenager who didn't have a name tag, but did have a nonbinary flag and They/Them pinned on their apron. "What can I get you today?" The barista smiled, as fake as most customer service workers are.

"Uh, I'll have two hot chocolates, one with whipped cream, a blueberry scone and a… chocolate muffin." Wilbur ordered. The barista nodded and rang him up, and Wilbur paid, putting a five in the tip jar.

A few minutes later Wilbur was leaving the Cafe with treats and drinks in hand, flinching at the cold wind. The weather was getting worse.

Looking both ways, Wilbur crossed the street. When he reached the sidewalk, someone running by tripped over his foot, sending them sprawling on the concrete.

"Oi, watch where you're going!" Wilbur scolded, almost dropping one of the drinks. The runner froze and whipped his head around to stare at Will.

Holy fuck it's Tommy.

"Tommy?" Wilbur frowned. His little brother looked worse for wear, eyes puffy and red from crying, jeans that now have a tear in one of the knees, and the expression of grief and dread. "Tommy, what are you doing here?"

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN, 'WHAT AM I DOING HERE'! WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING, LEAVING A SUICIDE NOTE ON YOUR BED AND NOT COMING BACK FROM THE TRAIN STATION?" Tommy screamed, scrambling to his feet. 

Wilbur couldn't believe that much sound was coming from the boy. Sound that was dumbfounded, full of rage and despair.

"What suicide note?" Wilbur asked him, well aware of the people walking by, staring at the two.

"The fucking laptop!" Tommy wasn't screaming anymore, but he was still loud and angry. "The one with the special password and you singing the song about jumping onto train tracks!"

…

Oh.

Oh.

…

"Fuck." Wilbur eloquently replied. "That's not… it's a song?"

I left that on my bed?

"A song about you killing yourself." Tommy was still tense.

Wilbur shook his head. "Let's go back to Niki's, and then we can have a talk. Okay?"

Tommy didn't respond. Will watched as Tommy slowly loosened his muscles, shoulders dropping and face relaxing.

Okay. He signed.

They walked back, silent. Wilbur offered the hot chocolate (with whipped cream) and Tommy grabbed it, taking big gulps.

When they entered the apartment, the brothers found Niki pacing the floor, phone in hand. They were texting someone, panicking.

"I'm back." Wilbur announced.

Niki jumped and immediately punched Will in the arm, making him drop the bag with treats.

"Ow, what was that for?" Wilbur rubbed his arm where she hit him.

Niki didn't look happy. "That's for scaring the shit out of me! What the fuck Will! Where were you? And Tommy!" They turned towards the younger boy. "Why the hell did you run out without saying anything?"

The brothers looked at each other, alarmed. 

"I was buying food." Wilbur pointed at the Cafe bag that was still on the floor. "The train snacks are garbage, so I thought Tommy would want one."

Niki raised an eyebrow. "Oh," her tone didn't sound like she believed him. Niki turned their gaze to Tommy. "And you?"

Tommy blinked. "He threatened to eat my food," Tommy paused. "Cause, uh, I got to the wrong station. So a sort of punishment… thing, ya'know?"

Wilbur inwardly winced. Tommy wasn't a good liar. But it must have been convincing enough, because Niki took a deep breath and turned her phone off, mumbling under their breath.

"Sorry." Wilbur bent down to pick up the bag. Tommy quickly repeated the apology.

Niki huffed and moved towards the door. "I have to go to work. Don't get into any trouble, okay?"

"Yes Niki." The brothers responded. Niki nodded and left, closing the door softly. The boys didn't move until her muffled footsteps faded.

Wilbur forced himself to look at Tommy. Tommy was already looking back at him. Wilbur opened the bag and handed his brother the chocolate muffin. Tommy signed thanks and accepted it.

"I should explain myself, huh?" Wilbur asked. After a moment of thinking, Tommy nodded. "Okay. Let's… sit down."

Tommy sat on the couch, staring at his hands. Wilbur was on the floor, across from him.The ceiling fan kept buzzing. Tommy could hear the hum of the fridge. Traffic outside had never seemed louder.

Wilbur sighed, dragging a hand down his face. "You weren't supposed to see the laptop."

Tommy stays silent. His eyes stare down at Will's.

"I know the song is… troubling." At that, Tommy scoffed. Wilbur took a breath. "When I wrote that song, I wasn't at my best… I had horrible mental health. But, it was still my first song."

And what's that got to do with anything? Tommy's signs were angry.

"It was the first song I wrote." Wilbur explained. "And completely finished. I kept it around for… sentimental purposes. I was planning on showing it to you, actually. After I explained everything." Wilbur added on that last part quickly when Tommy's expression switched from angry to disturbed.

Tommy didn't respond. Wilbur let him think. There are many apologies to go through, and this was only the first one.

The thought made Wilbur weary.

"You wrote it when you were suicidal?" Tommy asked. "Like, you were actually suicidal?"

Wilbur didn't know if he liked the bluntness of those questions or not. "I haven't had good mental health since… forever, really. Even before you went mute. That incident made everything… worse, though."

Tommy blinked and turned to face the window. He didn't know if he actually saw anything. Not anything past his head, most likely. Disturbed thoughts about Wilbur and his confessed issues were loud, granting the boy messy and terrifying images and emotions.

"I originally planned to pick you up from the train, and then take you to get ice cream or something and then we could talk. I wasn't expecting you to end up at the wrong station."

Tommy scoffed. "You didn't tell me you moved."

"Niki made me move here so they could put me on suicide watch." Wilbur sighed. This talk doesn't feel like it's going well. "I didn't know how exactly to explain that to you. Sorry."

More fucking silence. Fucking…. Fuck. Tommy started to feel an itch under his skin. 

"Okay." Tommy got to his feet, talking loudly, pacing. Anything to get rid of the feeling. Rip off the bandaid. Or fucking… get this over with. "So you were suicidal, but now you're not? And you want to apologize to me, and have us make up? So that way we can put everything behind us? Yeah?"

Wilbur paused to think, then nodded.

"And this whole suicide scare was just an accident? You were going to talk through everything first?"

"Yes." Wilbur stressed.

"Okay then." Tommy sat back down with a thump. "I'm sorry I went through your stuff."

"And I'm sorry I didn't tell you I moved, and that I left my laptop out."

The brothers nodded, apologies accepted. One down, a thousand to go. But the start made Tommy feel hopeful. There is a chance of growth, to heal not only Tommy's fear, but also Wilbur's mental health.

I'm going to try. Tommy promised himself. 

Chapter Text

Arrival Day

It was nearly midnight when Niki came home from work. Judging by the faint snoring, They assumed the brothers had fallen asleep.

The day's events troubled Niki, which seemed too much like suicide. Niki hated that suicide was the first thing they thought of when it concerned Wilbur, but she will have to accept that.

When Tommy ran out of the apartment to Lee Lines, Niki saw the laptop on Will's bed, earbuds plugged in, and an orange note with what was presumably Will's password.

Niki opened the laptop and saw the song, and immediately closed it. 

Wilbur recorded that song right before he tried to jump off the roof of his dorm building. Luckily, Niki was there to drag him down the stairs and promptly move him into their apartment.

Niki had lots of thoughts and opinions about the day's events.

Like when Tommy covered up for them, Wilbur did get food, and Niki believed him when he said that. But Tommy thought Wilbur was going to jump. And Tommy tried to hide it.

Niki shook her head and started to get ready for bed.

Day Two

The rain was clear the next day, and according to the forecast, the rest of the week should be clear. Maybe slightly cloudy. But dry.

Morgan was disappointed. His job is just so much cooler in the rain. But maybe sunlight was comforting to other people. He's not sure why his mind is going on about the weather right now since he's inside a hospital, seeing various patients ready to go. Many were old or already brain dead, but quite a few were stubborn fools who had been fighting him for the last few days.

"Oh, Fuck you! You're not back again?" This particular patient was very stubborn. 

"You're dead. Simple as that." Morgan refused to take souls against his will. But trust him, he's close. "Look at the heart monitor. It's slow. You have no brain waves. You. Are. Dead."

The patient scowled and turned away from Morgan. He muttered under his breath; Morgan didn't catch it.

Instead, Morgan just sighed. "Fine. I'll be back this evening. If you don't accept your fate and come with me soon, I will do this the hard, very painful way. Do you understand?"

The patient didn't respond.

"See you later, Schlatt."

"Goodbye, Death." The patient said with scorn. 

"So, when did you start talking?" Wilbur and Tommy were walking around a park. It was one of those parks that had some sort of historical plaques and statues guiding the pathway. Tommy wasn't paying any attention to them, though.

He took a deep breath. A goal of his was to spend most of the week talking. Something in Tommy's mind reminded him not to push himself. Tommy just ignored it.

"I was feeling happy and safe," Tommy started his answer. "I spent the day at Ranboo's house, and I just… spoke in front of Dad. Then I showed Techno, and then I just… kept doing it. I got more comfortable, and now the last obstacle is…." He glanced at Wilbur. "You."

Wilbur blinked and looked down at the path. Tommy felt his back muscles tense, and his throat close up. He attempted the breathing exercises Kristin taught him. They helped a bit.

"You know, I'm really sorry about what I did," Wilbur said quietly. The two came across a bench underneath a large statue depicting two people.

They both stood tall and commanded attention, dressed in revolutionary attire. They both looked young, one looking like he had just turned eighteen and the younger one looking like a child. A ten-year-old boy. They were labeled as the founders of the city, the first president, and his vice president. Brothers.

Tommy looked at Wilbur.

"I know that yelling at you like that was wrong. I know I shouldn't have gotten physical and hurt you. I know I should have apologized so much earlier, and I regret that I didn't. I regret getting as mad as I did, and I…." Wilbur trailed off.

"... Why didn't you apologize?" Tommy asked him.

Beat. Pause. Breathe. Think.

"I didn't feel like you should forgive me." Wilbur frowned. "No… I didn’t feel like I deserved forgiveness."

"I still would have liked an apology, though." Tommy did his best to keep the anger out of his voice. Deep breaths, in and out.

"I never thought about you receiving an apology. Or, uh, the fact that you getting an honest apology was more important than me getting forgiven. I think I said it in the letter, but I was - and still am - a selfish person. Sometimes I don't realize that I'm not thinking about others or putting them above myself for once."

Wilbur's leg started to bounce. Tommy could hear the cars driving and honking. They were deep enough in the park not to see the traffic. Or other people. 

"I threw myself a pity party," Wilbur spoke as if this was a normal conversation, light and of little consequence. "Going through all the teenage angst and thinking that no one loved me and that I was such a horrible monster. I… I still struggle to get out of that mindset sometimes."

A hummingbird zipped by, stopping in front of the statue boy, then zooming off.

"I didn't think of you as a monster," Tommy said. "Yeah, I was scared of you for a long time. Maybe when I was younger, I might've thought the yelling Wilbur was a scary thing. And your…your fucking 'angst' didn't help. You kept glaring and shit. Made me feel like you didn't love us."

"I do love you. And Techno and Phil."

"Well, I know that now . But when I was younger? You were a bitch."

"I like that you swear at me."

Tommy blinked. "What?"

Wilbur shrugged. "It was something I noticed a while ago. You'd curse at everyone except me."

Tommy stared at Wilbur for a second before laughing loudly. Wilbur watched, shocked for a moment, before laughing too. 

"Wow! Good to know we measure mental health with swears!" Tommy wheezed. Wilbur laughed harder.

Fundy was hanging out with Niki, showing them a cool mod he coded into a game, when Wilbur and some blonde child entered Niki's apartment.

"Hey Niki, Hey Fundy." Wilbur sounded ragged. Emotionally drained.

"Hello Will, Tommy." Niki gave them a welcoming smile. "How was today?"

"We walked around L'manpark. Got to the Revolutionary and his little brother." Wilbur rolled his eyes with disdain.

"Well, that sounds like fun," Niki said.

Wilbur gestured to Fundy. "Tommy, this is Niki's friend Fundy. Fundy, this is my little brother." Wilbur nudged Tommy, making the boy stumble.

"Hey," Fundy said.

"Hi." Tommy chirped back. "Niki, do you have any food? Wilbur refused to buy me anything, and I'm starving." The boy flopped on the couch, making Fundy's laptop bounce, but luckily the man caught it before it could get hurt.

Niki chuckled and got to her feet. "C'mon, Will." She ordered. Wilbur scoffed.

"Why me?" He asked.

"Cause I said so." Niki grinned. "Come on."

Wilbur rolled his eyes and followed Niki to the kitchen. 

"What's that?" Tommy pointed to the laptop in Fundy's lap.

"Oh! Uh," Fundy grinned and started to explain.

"How was the talk?" Niki asked their friend while she looked for stuff to make sandwiches. Niki frowned when all Wilbur did was shrug. "Tell me about it. I know talking through this helps."

Wilbur rolled his eyes (he's done that a lot today) and huffed. "I apologized and explained I didn't feel like I should be forgiven, and I spoke about how I was an angsty teen and how that affected how much of a bitch I was to him." Wilbur reached above the fridge to grab sliced bread and hand it to Niki, who had found some peanut butter.

"I don't think it's good that you're being so negative about yourself." Niki nudged Will so they could open the fridge and grab jelly. "It's probably important that you learn to forgive yourself."

Wilbur didn't say anything. Niki sighed and turned around to make lunch.

"Will, you know I love you. Tommy loves you too. But right now, I think you need to love yourself."

Day Three

"It's time." Morgan regretfully passes his message on to a child. She was a young thing, a victim of a car crash. Some stupid fool got high and decided to get behind a wheel.

The fool died immediately, and the father survived, but this little girl had to suffer for a week until her heart stopped beating.

"I know." The girl sat on her bed, watching her body being mourned over by her father and her father's family. "Can I take my bear?"

Morgan eyed the teddy bear nestled in the body's arms. It was pale green and had a shiny bow sewn under its chin. "Yes, you can. Just grab it."

Morgan walked away with the girl's hand in his and her other hand wrapped tight around the bear. They disappeared into the light.

Tommy looked down and gulped. Wilbur had told him, 'Hey, I have an exciting day planned for us' and then dragged Tommy to a large fair that was visiting the nearest small town, only thirty minutes away, in a car.

Tommy was at the precipice of a rollercoaster, Eret by his side and Wilbur behind him. Fundy and Niki didn't get on the ride, opting to get lunch for the group instead. Tommy wishes he had gone with them.

"HOLY SHIIIII-" Tommy screamed as the rollercoaster dropped, twisting and turning. Eret yelled and started laughing. "I'M GONNA DIE WHY ARE YOU LAUGHING!" Tommy screamed as the ride pulled against gravity and shot up into the air.

Eret only laughed louder, a grin spread wide on their face. "IT'S FUN!"

The ride was slowing down, preparing to end. The screams subsided.

"What the hell do you mean 'it's fun'?" Tommy demanded, ignoring the smile that crept onto his face. No, he didn't have fun, thank you very much .

Eret only laughed. 

Tommy ate carnival food with gusto. Corn dogs, funnel cake, yeah, even a whole fucking turkey leg , the kid vows he'll eat it all.

Niki disapproves of Wilbur and Fundy rising to the challenge, buying the boy more and more food that just got more bizarre. Funnel cake was traditional carnival food. Deep-fried pickles with peanut butter in them? Fundy wasn't sure if that was a normal type of food for these occasions, but damn, Tommy ate those too!

When the food was really nasty, like the chocolate-covered insects, Wilbur or Fundy would try the food too.

After a few hours of this, Niki finally pulled the plug and took the boys' wallets. 

Then Tommy puked.

It was a good day nonetheless.

Day Four

Tommy looked at the landscape passing by. Fields and cows. Cows are cute, and these are especially fluffy.

It's been about a half-hour since they left Niki's. A half-hour in silence. But Tommy didn't feel the need to talk. Or sign.

God, when was the last time he signed? 

Tommy would be lying if he said he wasn't afraid of talking in front of Wilbur anymore. Sometimes the years-old fear would spike up and choke the boy, limiting sound. But those moments were slowly becoming less frequent, especially when they were around other people.

But right now, Wilbur and Tommy were alone. 

The little boy didn't listen to his parents or his doctors. The medicine that could've kept him alive was discarded. The boy didn't want the medication. He didn't know he would die.

Morgan's face was stony as the boy cursed at him and told him to go away. The boy can't refuse death like he refused treatment, and Morgan made sure that the boy knew this was his fault.

"You were diagnosed with diabetes." Morgan sighed. "Believe it or not, you aren't immortal. And now you're dead."

The boy fought, screamed even, but Morgan still pulled at his soul and led it to the afterlife.

It's not often Morgan forces a soul to pass. He doesn't like it, but this kid did it to himself. And today was busy anyway.

The music shop was shit, Tommy decided upon entering. It was small and crowded with large instruments. There was dust over many surfaces and unvacuumed debris hiding in the corners where green carpeted floors touched the wood-paneled walls. 

Wilbur immediately strode to the guitars, which were at the back. Tommy followed his brother, looking around. There was a piano, which looked grey with dust. The keys didn't seem to have dust on them, though.

Gently, Tommy pressed Middle C. It didn't sound correct at all. Obviously, the piano would be out of tune with this amount of dust.

"I'm so sorry about that." A redheaded worker popped up out of nowhere, startling Tommy. 

"Fucking hell!" Tommy eyed the worker. She was really pretty, with red hair and sea blue eyes. Her name tag said, Sally.

"Sorry for the scare." Sally chuckled. "You're Wilbur's little brother? He talks about you all the time!" Her voice was light.

Tommy turned to look at Wilbur, who was giving Sally the grossest look ever, all blush and heart eyes. Simp. Look at Simpbur. Fucking -

"Yeah, I'm Will's brother." Tommy turned back to Sally, who was looking back at Wilbur, some gross love-emotion in her eyes. "How often does he come here?"

Sally shrugged. "About once a week, I think."

Tommy scoffed, shaking his head and heading towards Wilbur.

"Will!" Tommy made sure he was loud enough to snap Wilbur out of his simp trance. "You drove an hour just to stare at a girl?" Judging by Sally's sudden laughter, Tommy was loud enough for her to hear. Wilbur’s face went red.

“No!” Will denied. “I need a new string for my guitar!” Tommy rolled his eyes; Wilbur just got his strings replaced, and none of them looked broken last night. But when Tommy looked back at Sally and saw that she was still giggling to herself, still looking fondly at Wilbur…

Tommy decided to not say anything. 

Wilbur didn’t want to leave. He wanted to exist inside this bubble with Sally and Tommy laughing and smiling. There is no future and no past to ruin the moment, just a glorious present.

But alas, the boys had to go. Wilbur almost didn't want to say goodbye to the cashier.

But that would be cruel.

So Wilbur hugged her and didn’t let go. Sally didn’t move either. Something made this goodbye more… final. Tommy gagged loudly by the door, making the two separate, blushing and smiling at each other. Sally slipped something into Will’s hand. Wilbur tightened his fist, not letting it go.

“See you later?” Sally stepped back.

“Goodbye.” Wilbur smiled softly, turning around to exit the shop. He held the door open for a lady, who walked into the store, Sally’s next customer.

Wilbur sat in his car. Not quite ready to leave. Tommy stared at him, buckled in the passenger seat, and prepared to move.

…

“When did you get into guitar?” Tommy asked. Wilbur ripped his gaze away to look at his brother. 

“A while ago. Dad got me some classes right before I….” Will paused. Tommy frowned. “When I was eleven.” Wilbur finished quietly.

“Really?” Tommy didn’t mention the pause. “I don’t remember you going to classes.”

“Well,” Wilbur sighed, Turning the car on and reversing out of the parking lot. “I went to the classes at first, but then my bike broke and never got fixed, so I had to teach myself.”

“Woah,” Tommy replied under his breath. “That’s pretty cool.”

Wilbur nodded. 

Morgan needs a pay raise. Why is everyone so difficult?

“I didn’t die! I refuse to die! I had a date tonight!” a teen girl screamed and ranted, pacing back and forth.

“You choked. You stopped breathing. You died.” Morgan wanted to go lay down and fall asleep. “I can’t do anything. All I do is take your soul to the Afterlife. So c’mon.” Morgan grabbed the teen’s wrist and dragged her to the light.

Day Five

Morgan sat on a bench, sipping his coffee, watching the sunrise and the birds wake up. Like always, Morgan had a late night. Some kid popped pills on purpose, and another got beaten by an angry romantic partner.

Humanity really can be despicable.

This is why Morgan looks for beauty wherever he can. When one’s job is nothing but Death, seeing the lowest of humans and the most tragic ends, Beauty could be hard to come by. The sky was pale and cloudless, orange creeping up from the eastern horizon, hidden by the tall buildings surrounding the little park.

Somewhere nearby, a heart monitor stopped beating. On his way to work, a tired driver runs through a red light, hitting another person on their bicycle, killing him. Some poor woman falls down the stairs of her apartment, hitting her head just right and dying then and there.

Well, Morgan can relax when he’s dead.

The fishies are dope, Tommy decides. The stingrays are super cool, and Tommy bullied Wilbur into paying to let the boy pet them. Slimy stingrays, sparkling fish. And best of all, the Sharks.

Tommy was signing so fast that Wilbur couldn’t keep up most of the time. The loud crowd and the pushy people swallowed Tommy’s words and pushed down on his voice. In reality, all of Tommy’s anxieties were higher than they’ve been the past few days. Wilbur didn’t say anything about Sign Language. 

Sharks! Look at the Sharks! Tommy grinned and bounced on the balls of his feet. Hammerhead, Bull shark, a Great White up ahead.

And the Otters! So fluffy and cuddly!

Nemo! Lots of Nemos! And Dorys too! 

People, Lots of People. Too many people, emotions, colors, shapes, noises, cries. Children. Scolding. Shouting. 

A mother turns to her toddler. “Why can’t you just be quiet!”

A frustrated Grandfather holds a child's arms to the child's side. “Listen to me!” it felt like he roared. 

Tommy didn’t realize he was being dragged outside; he didn’t see Wilbur kneel in front of him, afraid to touch. 

“Tommy!” He called through the rapidly thickening fog.

Tommy frowned. 

“What do you see?”

Nothing. Tommy tried to sign, but his hands were too shaky.

“Take a deep breath. In for four, hold for seven, out on eight. Follow me.” Wilbur started to breathe slowly. Tommy was only gasping louder, strangling the air and killing it before it reached his lungs and before the oxygen could get to his brain.

I’m going to die. I’m going to die.

I don’t want to die.

“Breathe, Tommy! I need you to breathe for me!” Wilbur’s sounded different, deeper. 

Tommy sucked in slowly. Excruciating pain. He held it in until his lungs hurt, then the air left his mouth faster than he intended. 

“I’ll count for you,” Wilbur’s voice was softer too, not as hoarse. “One, Two, Three…” He continued counting for Tommy, helping him breathe. His vision wasn’t as fuzzy now, seven minutes later. Just tears impairing his vision instead of oxygen deficiency. “Can you tell me five things you see?”

Tommy looked around. The shapes were still hard to define but easier to understand. “Red Dress, Shark sign, floor, a kid, You.”

Wilbur chuckled lightly. His laughter made Tommy feel a bit lighter. “Okay, now four things you feel.”

Tommy did another round of breathing exercises. “Uh, Shirt, tears, ground, wind.”

“Three things you hear now.”

“People. A bird. You.”

“Two things you smell?”

“The fish water. And… food.”

“Yes, there is a food court around here somewhere. Now last thing for me. What do you taste right now?”

Tommy breathed and breathed. “Niki made us nachos for lunch. I taste that.”

Tommy felt Wilbur smile more than he saw it. Cause he didn’t see it. Now that he thinks about it, Wilbur was moving his mouth, but how words weren’t reaching Tommy’s ears and didn’t match up with the soothing presence that helped him. Curious, Tommy looked around, searching for the voice.

There, standing underneath an arch a good 10 feet away, stood a familiar tall silhouette, framed by long dark hair and an even dark coat, a coat that would be unbearable in June’s summer heat. Morgan. But he wasn’t standing close enough to talk as softly as he did, not to Tommy. He’d have to shout. Tommy, confused, blinked, and Morgan disappeared.

Slowly, Wilbur's voice faded in, along with a ringing.

“Tommy?” He was repeating. “Tommy?”

“Yeah?” Oh, shit, his throat hurt. “I’m back. Sorry.”

Wilbur leaned forward and Hugged Tommy tightly, smiling into the boy's curls. “No, no, don’t be sorry. You’re all right.”

“Can…” Tommy swallowed and winced. A hurt throat burns like hell. “Can we go home?”

Wilbur nodded and let his brother go. “Okay.”

His voice was light, understanding. It didn’t hold any resentment. Tommy knew Will would understand, but he didn’t really understand that his brother was truly trying to get better.

Tommy is trying. Just like Wilbur was trying.

And that was Okay.

Day Six

Morgan had hobbies. He knew he had hobbies. He had things to do for fun. Trust him, he did. 

But he didn’t have time for those hobbies. People just keep dying . And for some reason, Morgan keeps having to take souls who ended their lives. What happened to dying of old age? Or an unfortunate accident? Morgan would rather argue with someone that yes , they are dead and no , this was not a joke than take a soul who was far too willing to leave with him, to enter the light.

It was already heartwrenching when one person felt compelled to end their life early, But three teenagers, none of which were above sixteen? They all tell Morgan that they made a Suicide Pact earlier that day. Only one of them seemed remorseful about their actions.

“Why?” Morgan asked, honestly. He’s seen humanity's highs; why didn’t these kids want to live?

“No one loved us.” the regretful one replied. Morgan became incredibly aware that they were, in fact, standing inside an orphanage.

"You still had a chance, I believe." Morgan sighed, knowing that they probably didn't. He's seen the highs of humanity and the lows as well. He still wished they kept trying, but he understood why they felt hopeless.

"C'mon," He beckoned their souls. And they followed him into the light.

In a moment of peace, hours later, Morgan stood atop a skyscraper, looking around at the humans he felt were his brothers, sisters, and siblings. He watched children chase pigeons and old couples water their gardens. He watched as a mother made sure to buckle her children in the car as a teen put on his helmet before he rode his motorcycle. He watched those two brothers he kept running in to play games with friends.

Those two intrigued Morgan. The older one–Morgan hasn’t yet learned his name–Stank of death and illness. A sickly sweet rotting that plagued his mind and scared Morgan. The boy, Tommy, was his opposite. Glowing, growing, suffocated. Morgan didn’t expect to see Tommy yesterday at the Aquarium, but an old lady who had no right to be visiting the place had a heart attack. Morgan went to pick up her soul, but the cloying stench distracted him and pulled his attention to Tommy, who needed his help.

The sun was setting, and Morgan still had yet to remember his hobby. The idea ran around in his head all day. He left the skyscraper to pick up an old, loving couple who sadly died in a car accident. But now Morgan was back, watching everyone go home, eating dinner, and preparing for bed. 

Tommy was packing, Morgan noticed distantly.

The door to the rooftop opened, and Morgan turned to see a ragged man in his mid-thirties who stumbled to the roof’s edge. The Sunset light exaggerated the wrinkled on the man’s face, on his clothes. The only light in his eyes was merely a reflection.

“What are you doing?” Morgan asked softly, already knowing the answer.

The man didn’t seem surprised to see Morgan. “I’ve found out my wife was cheating on me. She took my home, my kids, and all my money. I lost my job because I was too busy being stressed during the court hearing. All I have to my name is the clothes on my back. I can’t go back. There’s nothing here for me.” The man cried ugly tears that got stuck in his patchy stubble, snot leaking out of his nose. Morgan’s soul filled with dread. He knows that nothing would bring this man away from the edge. The hopelessness was deep, carving through the soul of this broken man, decay and wilted flowers growing in the deep caverns of his mind. The man wanted to fly, to fall.

Morgan didn’t say anything and watched the man lean forward and disappear.

The air was heavy and stagnant.

The Sun disappeared.

Chapter Text

Wilbur was seven years old when Tommy was born. He was eleven when he broke Tommy.

Wilbur is now twenty-two. Tommy isn't broken like he used to be. 

Wilbur knows not to congratulate himself. Tommy fixed himself, found people he loved and trusted, gathered their love and joy, breathed it in, and exhaled his thoughts, loud enough to shatter mountains and shake Wilbur to his core.

Wilbur won't pretend to be a better person. He's no better now than at the tender age of eleven. Even worse, if the infected slices on his arm and the desire to jump were an indication of how fallen and decrepit his soul had become.

Tommy is packing up his suitcase. He had received gifts, trinkets from Niki, or souvenirs from the Aquarium and Carnival. Wilbur let his brother have a second suitcase to hold the extra stuff. 

The younger brother flinched while sorting out the trash in his backpack. Both brothers saw the bright orange paper and cursed envelope. Tommy flashed a fearful gaze at Wilbur, and Wilbur wanted nothing more than to take the suitcase of memories and run away.

Tommy deserves better than to remember Wilbur.

The clouds are really fluffy. The sun is shiny, and there's a little nest in one of the Cafe letters that hang above the door.

The nest is empty, but Tommy takes it as a sign. Growth and shit. Sure, it's sad that none of those bird siblings will see each other again, but that's just birds, man. Nature's crazy.

Niki stands beside Tommy, their presence calming. Wilbur is buying food and coffee, but Niki kept Tommy outside to talk.

"I forgot to tell you thanks." Niki looked at him.

Tommy blinked. Thanks for what? He signed. Niki looked at his hands and squinted. 

Oh right, she doesn't know Sign.

"Sorry. Thanks for what?" Tommy repeated, rubbing his arm in embarrassment.

Niki only hummed. "Wilbur was horrible after the wedding. I had Fundy and Eret over twenty-four-seven, watching him. Days before your birthday, Wilbur just… got off his bed and cleaned himself up. I think he got excited at the idea of you visiting him.

"So, thank you for being his drive to get better. I'm happy for him. And you."

Tommy didn't know how to respond, so he smiled at Niki and thanked her for the kind words.

Wilbur came out of the Cafe with a coffee for Niki, hot chocolate for Tommy, and cake pops.

"These things are good." Will insisted, even as Niki scrunched her nose at the waxy candy coating.

Tommy thought they were nice and munched on his as Wilbur and Niki walked slightly ahead, talking about things they could do before Niki had to go to work and Tommy had to head back home.

They got into Niki's car and went to an arcade.

Niki cheered Tommy on as he played air hockey against Wilbur. The score was eight to eight, and the next point would decide the winner.

Tommy was fast; Wilbur had to give his little brother that. But Wilbur didn't fear the puck hitting his fingers; the pain was ignored. 

The brothers exchanged a few more hits before the puck finally slipped into a goal.

"YES!" Tommy cheered, turning to Niki and giving her a high five. "You didn't stand a chance, old man!"

Wilbur huffed. "What do you mean, old? I'm not even twenty-five!"

"You're still old!" Niki grinned as Tommy grabbed the tickets he won. "How many is that?" Niki turned to the boy.

Tommy stopped to count. He looked up, eyes shining, reflecting the purple and pink lights of the dim arcade. "Fifty, I think."

"What do you want to do next?" Wilbur looked around. The group hasn't gotten to the back of the arcade, being led by Tommy to whichever game appealed to the teen. 

Said teen was looking around, and he grinned at the sight of a racing game. Tommy immediately sat in the seat, filling the game with quarters and choosing a racer.

"Racing?" Niki asked, willing to watch as Wilbur looked around at games to take up time.

"I like Mario Kart," Tommy replied.

Wilbur stopped at a claw machine. He eyed the stuffed animals inside. There was a cute fox, with button eyes that were differing sizes and colors. But the fox was half-buried by a dog and some other toy that Wilbur couldn't identify. 

"Those things are rigged, Will!" Niki laughed, noticing what their friend was looking at.

"I know, but I'm curious," Wilbur couldn't care if he actually got something or not. He knew that the claw was too weak to grab anything, but Wilbur saw a familiar toy. Will glanced back at Tommy. Would he like it? Or would he frown at Wilbur's lack of creativity?

Will inserted two quarters and moved the claw, praying for many things. He was shocked to see the claw actually grab the right toy, and drop it down the chute. Will bent down to grab it and look at it.

The toy was a crow with a cute green beanie and tiny wings that didn't have any stuffing. The beak had a derpy smile embroidered on it, making the crow look silly.

Wilbur knew the toy was the same type that Phil used to propose to Kristin.

Wilbur knew that the crow was often set on the couch, in a seat of honor. 

He knew the positive memories that everyone undoubtedly had regarding that specific crow.

He was afraid of the memories that would ultimately be attached to this crow.

Tommy didn't want to leave. Niki had glanced at the alarm that she set on her phone, and sighed, saying it was time to cash in those tickets and start heading to the car.

Tommy whooped and hollered as he bought two knock-off nerf guns, and used what was left of the tickets to fill his pockets with tootsie pops.

"I'm gonna shoot you Bitch!" Tommy cheered, pointing one of the guns at Wilbur's torso, still wrapped in its box. 

"I'd like to see you try," Wilbur smirked, grabbing the second gun. 

"No violence in my car." Niki sternly told them, before chuckling to herself and getting into her car. The boys followed suit, whispering lighthearted threats to each other while Niki pretended not to hear.

It was only ten minutes later that Niki dropped Wilbur and Tommy off at the train station, giving the latter one big squeeze.

"You'll visit another time, yeah?" They asked.

"Yeah, of course!" Tommy answered, feeling bittersweet. "I had fun hanging out with you."

Niki smiled and let Tommy go. She nodded to Wilbur, and got back into her car, driving away.

The brothers stood at the entrance of Lee Line, silent. Together they entered the station, one brother grim, the other somber. This was the end.

They stood in the middle of the station, surrounded by people, watching a train rush by, heading the opposite way home.

"Well," Wilbur started, but his voice broke and he couldn't say anything. He glanced at Tommy, and he was tearing up.

"I'm gonna… gonna fucking miss you," The younger boy confessed. "I know it's stupid, cause I think Dad is gonna force you to come visit us later." Tommy chuckled weakly. 

Wilbur looked up at the screens that showed the train schedules. Tommy's train was leaving in five minutes. "You'd best get aboard." Wilbur deflected, knowing that this was the time for their emotional goodbye. After all, this trip fixed so much for the boys, even if they were only at the start of their journey. But Wilbur didn't know what to say. 

Likewise, Tommy's head was full of emotions and signs and words, none of which could be explained to his brother.

So Tommy simply wrapped his arms around Wilbur, squeezing tight, refusing to let go of the older's bony figure.

This is a big moment, the brothers knew. They parted ways, Tommy hesitating, Wilbur glancing at the schedules again. It was with this air of finality that Tommy turned away, luggage in hand, forcing his way past a crowd of people, and boarding the train that sends him back to his hometown, an hour away.

Wilbur didn't move, watching his brother settle in a seat and pulling out his phone. Wilbur watched as the train doors closed, and Wilbur watched as the train slowly jerked forwards, before gaining speed and running off. Now, Wilbur was alone in Lee Lines Station. 

…

Wilbur turned around, and headed for the stairs.

Chapter Text

Wilbur turned around, and headed for the stairs. He climbed up a few steps, heading towards the sunlight and the birds, before he stopped. Wilbur frowned to himself, turning around curiously. 

The station was busy, full of people leaving and arriving, full of tearful goodbyes and joyous hellos, crowded with children and parents, siblings and friends. But there, standing off in a corner, stood a tall man, who looked straight at Wilbur.

Wilbur didn't want to climb the stairs. He should, he really… needs to survive. If Will takes just one more step, then he can shed the rot on his soul, the decay in his mind. But the man just watched, face clear of any judgment, of any urging.

Wilbur sighed, and accepted defeat. He stepped down from his exit, and pushed past the crowd, approaching the man who didn't take his eyes off of Wilbur.

Soon they were face to face. The crowd seemed to melt into silence, all of the flickering fluorescents faded. There was an understanding, of sorts, it seems.

"I don't need to introduce myself." The stranger says calmly. Not a question, just a fact. Wilbur swallowed a slimy knot down his throat, something heavy that was clogging his airways.

"You're death." Wilbur rasped, eyeing the rails many feet away. 

"I can be. It depends on what you do." The stranger smiled, and a warmth Wilbur hasn't felt in years flickered, like the kindling that may soon turn into a fire, if watched over and nurtured. It was the desire to live. "I've been watching you the past few days, after I had an enlightening conversation with your younger brother."

Wilbur shifted his feet. "To Tommy? About what?" Why did Death visit Tommy? 

Death chuckled. "He was nervous about spending time with you. Wanted you to know that you didn't need to beat yourself up. But you've both come to an understanding of each other, hmm?" The cloaked figure started to gently pace the now empty station, steps light and airy, graceful like a dancer.

Wilbur smiled, a little plaque-filled grin, black from the horrible thoughts. "Yeah, I know he'll understand."

Death paused his steps, turning his head to look at the man. "I don't think he will." Death murmured, holding a hand out, offering it to Will. "I think this is only the beginning. It'll be hard, but I know you can find yourself."

Wilbur hesitantly accepted the pale hand, and was pulled closer to Death, who began to dance a simple square, cloak swishing and Wilbur's shoes clicking against the tile. "I can't. I was going to die later. After I settle some stuff."

"Hmm." Was all Death replied, leading the silent waltz across the grimy train station. The lighting made Death look like a corpse. Wilbur wasn't sure if that was ironic. "I ultimately cannot decide for you. I simply take souls to the afterlife, whether it be now, or far into the future. But you, Wilbur. You're in need of help, of stoking the fire and weeding the garden. But you fill your soul with thorns and gunpowder, unwilling to accept the help you need."

"No!" Wilbur denied. "I'm trying , I swear! But it's so fucking hard to want to live. I'm pushing and fighting until my soles bleed and I'm covered in sweat, crying out at the inability to be." 

Death is silent. The dance is moving back and forth. Closer to the rails, or closer to the stairs. Wilbur knew that the dance would go on for eternity, until he made a choice. Death was giving up control, granting Wilbur the chance to try one more time. 

I'm so close , Will pleaded. Sally was only a drive away. Tommy was simply a call, his father and his brother were willing to tall and to love.

And Kristen.

Oh, Kristin.

That Christmas is a memory that Wilbur cherishes desperately. Kristen affirming Wilbur was what cemented her as a mother in his mind. And on her wedding day, she connected with Wilbur, spent the day telling him about herself, a deep and dark part that must've been difficult to explain. 

Wilbur loves her so much. She could be his beacon. I want to live for you , he'd say. And he knew that Kristen would only frown, eyes glittering with mirth.

Oh honey, I want you to live for yourself, she'd assure. 

Wilbur loves her more than he hates himself.

Wilbur will miss her.

He lets go of Death, falling down to the rails.