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Tommy was at home. The smell of brownies filled the house, and Tommy curled into the warmth of Wilbur’s body.
They were both currently sitting on top of Wilbur’s bed, Tommy’s small body tucked against Wilbur’s much taller one. Tommy worried that he would never be as big as Wilbur, but Wilbur assured him that when he was as old as Wilbur, it wouldn’t be a problem.
Tommy believed him, because Wilbur knew everything.
“Since me a song?” Tommy whispered into Wilbur’s shirt.
Wilbur laughed. “Any song?”
“Sing me the one about Mummy.” Tommy’s voice was a soft whisper, and he curled deeper into Wilbur’s sweater. Wilbur always got sad when he talked about Mummy, but Tommy craved the words that described her beauty and kindness.
As Tommy predicted, Wilbur’s face grew sad. “Alright, Toms,” he murmured, “I’ll sing the song about Mummy.”
Tommy reluctantly let Wilbur stand up and grab his guitar, but as soon as Wilbur sat back down, he quickly curled up against Wilbur’s side again.
“You’re awfully snuggly today, aren’t you?” Wilbur asked, “What’s gotten you in such a snuggly mood?”
Tommy hummed. “Bad dream,” he admitted softly.
“Oh?” Wilbur placed his guitar down beside him. “Do you need a hug?”
Tommy quickly climbed up into Wilbur’s lap and curled up against his older brother’s warmth. Wilbur wrapped his arms gently around Tommy’s body.
“You—you were mean,” Tommy stuttered. “And I was alone, and there was a scary man, and he tried to hurt me.”
Tommy’s breathing hitched into shaky sobs, and Wilbur gently rocked Tommy back and forth. “It’s okay, Toms,” he whispered. “It was just a nightmare. You’re safe.”
“It was scary,” Tommy whispered.
“That’s perfectly okay,” Wilbur said. He rubbed Tommy’s back, and Tommy sunk deeper into the warmth. “But if it happens again, you’re allowed to go to me, or Techno, or Dad in the middle of the night. You know that, right?”
Tommy sniffed. “I don’t want to bother you.”
“You won’t be bothering us,” Wilbur promised, “We’d much rather you come to us to comfort than to be sad all on your own. That doesn’t sound very fun.”
“It’s not,” Tommy agreed. They sat in silence for a moment, the only sound being the ticking of Wilbur’s clock and their breathing. “Can you play the song now?”
Wilbur laughed, and he placed the guitar in front of Tommy’s curled up body. Carefully, Wilbur plucked at the strings, and Tommy hummed at the vibrations that created the melody.
As Wilbur sang, he felt his eyelids droop, and he fell asleep in the warmth.
“Technoblade?” Tommy asked, interrupting Technoblade’s reading.
Technoblade looked down at the small child, who was currently clutching onto his favorite cow stuffed animal and staring up at Technoblade with wide eyes.
“Yeah, Toms?”
“Do you love me?”
Technoblade blinked in surprise. “Of course, I do,” he said bluntly. “Where’d that come from?”
Tommy shrugged, burying his face into his cow. “I don’t know,” he whimpered.
Technoblade raised his eyebrows. “You just wanted to make sure that I loved you?’
Tommy gave Technoblade a nod.
“Well, worry not. I love you very much.”
Tommy rocked back and forh, clearly hesitating on something. “You promise?” he whispered.
Technoblade sighed. “I pinky promise.”
Tommy and Technoblade locked pinkies, and Tommy hummed before smiling. “Do you love Henry?”
“Henry?”
Tommy shoved his stuffed cow underneath Technoblade’s nose. “Henry!”
Technoblade rolled his eyes fondly. “Yes, child. I love Henry?”
“And Hetta?”
“Is that another one of your stuffed animals?”
Tommy grabbed Technoblade by the hand and dragged him upstairs, proceeding to dump out his entire bin of stuffed animals and show them to Technoblade. Technoblade was required by law to tell them all he loved them, and then Technoblade was apparently required to bury Tommy underneath all of said stuffed animals.
“Is that good?” Technoblade asked Tommy, who was now completely covered in stuffed animals.
Tommy giggled. “You have to tell Wilbur to find me now!”
“Were you playing hide and seek?” Technoblade asked, suddenly very bemused.
“No, but now he has to find me!”
Technoblade new better than to question the wants and needs of children, and he quickly fetched Wilbur.
“Tommy wants you to find him.”
Wilbur smiled fondly. “Where is he hiding?”
Technoblade shrugged. “How should I know?”
Wilbur stuck his tongue out at Technoblade. “You are the worst.”
“I am a good brother in Tommy’s eyes.”
“The worst, I say. The worst.”
Wilbur marched up the stairs, and with much moaning and groaning, he found Tommy underneath the stuffed animals.
“I think I’ve found you,” he sang.
Tommy giggled. “Did not”
“Did too.”
"Did not!”
Wilbur tackled Tommy, and Tommy shrieked in laughter. “No fair!”
“Did too!” Wilbur cackled. “Did too, did too!”
“Did not!” Tommy shrieked in laughter as Wilbur made Tommy’s stuffed animal nuzzle his cheek. “You did not!”
Technoblade smiled at the scene. Somehow, it was more beautiful than any book.
“Boys!” Phil called from downstairs. “We’re leaving for the waterfall in an hour!”
Tommy cheered. “Picnic time!”
Wilbur laughed, ruffling Tommy’s hair. “Picnic time.”
“Daddy?” Tommy asked Phil one evening as Phil was setting the table for dinner.
“Yes?”
Tommy stared at the fridge, which was full of different pictures of Wilbur, Technoblade, and Tommy alike. The humming of the air conditioner filled the air.
“What happens to people who die?”
“Oh,” Phil said, looking sad. “Well…” Daddy smiled, staring out the window. “They go to a very nice place.”
Tommy brightened. “Really?”
“Really.”
“With flowers?”
Phil nodded. “Lots of flowers.”
Tommy bounced on his toes. “And will everyone you ever, ever, ever loved be there?”
Phil’s hands trembled. “Yes,” he whispered, “With everyone you ever loved.”
“Why… why are people sad when their loved ones die, then?” Tommy asked quietly, “Shouldn’t they be happy for them?”
Phil knelt down in front of Tommy so that they were eye level. “Toms, it’s not… It’s very hard for people when someone they loved isn’t there anymore.”
“But the person they loved is happy!” Tommy’s voice cracked, and Phil was horrified to see a single tear slip down his cheek. “Why can’t you be happy?”
“That’s not…” Phil faltered. “That’s not how it works. We miss the people we lose.”
Tommy carefully wrapped his arms around Phil and buried his face into Phil’s shirt. He patted Phil’s back.
“Do you feel better now?” Tommy whispered.
Phil’s entire body shook. “Yes, baby.” His voice cracked. “I feel so much better now.”
Tommy didn’t leave the hug. “Are you happy?”
“I’m happy, very happy with you here.”
Tommy hummed happily. “I miss you, Daddy.”
Phil faltered. “What?”
“But I’m happy,” Tommy continued, as though he didn’t hear Phil. “Mummy is very pretty, just like Wilbur’s song.”
Phil grabbed a tighter hold on Tommy’s shirt. “No, baby, you’re not—”
“I wish you wouldn’t be so sad,” Tommy whispered, “I don’t… I don’t want you to be sad. You said you were happy.”
“I am happy.” Phil gasped for air. “I’m happy with you, Toms. Toms, please—”
“There are lots of flowers—” Tommy’s voice cracked. “I love the flowers. They were just like you said, and I love them very much, and one day, I will give you a big bouquet of flowers, and you won’t be sad anymore! You’ll be happy!”
“Tommy, I don’t understand.”
Tommy patted Phil’s back. “I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to fall . It was an accident.”
“You didn’t—”
“I saw Mummy right away, though,” Tommy continued. “She got me out of the water and hugged me, and I’m very happy now.”
“You weren’t supposed to fall—” Phil burst into sobs. “I was supposed to watch you. I was supposed to protect you.”
“it was an accident. I wasn’t listening to you.”
“No—” Phil held onto Tommy tighter. “No, please, don’t blame yourself, you, you—”
“I love you, Daddy,” Tommy whispered. Phil could see him smile from behind Phil’s shirt. “Tell Wil and Tech I love them too.”
“Tommy, baby, please—”
But Tommy was gone, and Phil woke up in his bed, clinging onto one of Tommy’s old shirts and sobbing.
The shirt was still painfully small. Tommy had never outgrown that size.
He would never outgrow that size again.
Phil heard a light knock, and he tried to form the words to let whichever son was standing at the door in.
“Come, come—”
Wilbur or Techno must’ve understood, because they slowly opened the door.
Phil looked up from the shirt he was sobbing into to see both of his boys standing there. Their faces were streaked with tears, and Phil could see them holding hands.
“Boys, I’m—”
Phil burst into more sobs, muffling all the words he wanted to say.
Wilbur and Technoblade climbed up onto the two large bed next to Phil, leaning quietly against their father’s shaking body.
“I miss him,” Wilbur whispered, his voice cracking. “I miss him so much.”
Technoblade rested his head against Phil’s shoulder, and Phil realized Technoblade was holding Tommy’s old stuffed cow. Henry. Tommy had always loved that cow.
“Can we…” Technoblade didn’t finish his sentence, and it was Wilbur who finished it for him.
“…sleep with you tonight.”
Phil could only nod, and Wilbur and Technoblade crawled underneath the blankets. Phil lay down next to them, and he tried his best to wrap his arms around them both.
“You both know…” He shuddered. “You both know I love you so much.”
“We know,” Techno whispered, his own voice cracking.
“I’m sorry—”
“Don’t.” Wilbur’s voice wavered. “Let’s just talk about nice things. Like that time, like that time Tommy fed the ducks.”
“He fed my bagel,” Technoblade said. “He said those fat ducks were still hungry.”
“But he…” Wilbur chuckled wetly. “He attacked the goose that tried to steal Phil’s hat.”
“Gave Phil a heart attack.”
“He was always good at that,” Phil whispered. “All of you boys were.”
“He’s Mum’s problem now.” Wilbur buried his face into Phil’s shoulder. “We’ll see him again one day.”
Technoblade didn’t say anything in response to that.
Phil only tried to hug both of his remaining boys closer, wishing he could never let them go.
Many years later, Phil woke up surrounded by the fresh scent of flowers.
Tommy was holding his hand.