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Techno and Phil decide to go to the Nether.
Tommy argues, even Wilbur does, too. He doesn’t know why a siren would want to go to the driest place in the realms, but Tommy just wants to stop freezing his ass off. Overworld air is always a little cold to him, and while sick he’s shivering like a newborn deer walking for the first time.
No matter how cold he complains he is, they say going to the Nether will spike his temperature too much. Meh meh meh, all of them are pricks.
“I should come,” Wilbur argues, “you’ll need all the help you can get.”
“We can’t just leave Tommy and Tubbo alone. They’re kids.” Phil responds.
He’s indignant. Furious. Annoyed. He isn’t a kid but- but it’s nice to have Wilbur there when the rest of his family is going somewhere dangerous.
Maybe he’s a little bit worried. They’re going to collect the ingredients for health pots. For Tommy. For him.
A cough that shakes his whole body has taken over. His voice is always hoarse and shaky, lined with exhaustion. He can’t sleep a whole night without some symptom disrupting him. Tubbo has stayed by his side, helping him out a ton. He’s clingy, like Tommy always says. He’s exhausted, too, but… it’s nice.
In the Nether, he always got sick alone.
When the house is just the three of them- Tubbo, Tommy, and Wilbur- it’s a lot quieter. Wil hasn’t been making music, probably too stressed to do so- and Tubbo is more reserved around the eldest monster of the household.
Tommy misses the days he took for granted his okay health. It’s the same cycle everytime he gets sick; he laments benign dumb enough to let his health fail, agnoizes in illness, and promises to be more vigilant. Then he always forgets, fucks around, does something dumb like spend the whole night out on the freezing beach, and gets sick.
When he’s healthy, he’s loud. He likes being loud. The Overworld is nice and peaceful, especially on their little coastal spot. The squawks of birds, sway of trees, and the soft crashing waves spitting out seafoam. He can be as loud as he wants without being disturbed.
And with Tubbo, they’re loud together exploring the different tide pools that show up during low tide, collecting sea shells, and chasing seagulls.
Now, Tubbo looks stressed out. He’s probably doing something dumb like- like blaming himself. But it’s always Tommy's own fault. He’s reckless by nature.
And Wilbur loves acting like the ever responsible adult, but he crumbles a little when Phil and Techno are gone.
The Nether is dangerous. Techno is a skilled warrior but if they got hurt trying to help him-
They worry in silence.
(For a long time, it was always Tommy, Techno, and Wilbur. The three of them were all the other had.)
It’s like the house breathes in fresh air for the first time, when Techno and Phil finally do return.
But they look grim faced, sullen.
“Did you- no, did you guys not find any blaze? Or nether wart? Do you not have any health potions?” Wilbur asks, frantic and pulling at his hair.
“We looked around as much as we could, mate.”
“Did you?”
“Yes.” Techno stares at Wil.
He breathes for a moment, calming his panic.
“Tommy hasn't gotten any better.”
"We're going to do all we can with what we have."
He hates feeling like this. Physically, his nose is stuffed and his throat feels like it’s bleeding. He is so tired, all the time, even when he sleeps the day away.
And his family worries. They worry he’s fragile, a moment away from breaking. He hates when they talk like he can’t hear them.
“I’ll be fine. I’m a big man, afterall.”
He doesn’t blame the doubt that fills the faces around him.
Tommy wants to wake up tomorrow feeling livelier than Phil, the old man, and run down the shoreline with Tubbo at his heels and listening to the distant strumming of Wil’s guitar.
But he won’t.
He wakes up tired.