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The house was completely silent.
Well, almost. Really, the silence was fractured every so often. The quiet clink of a spoon on a ceramic bowl. Little bits of cinnamon toast cereal crunching against one another. Their breathing. Or, more accurately, Tommy’s slightly off-put breathing. He was staring at the wood floor, sort of spacey all of a sudden. Like he wasn’t there.
Physically, he was. Physically, Tommy was sitting on the cold counter tiles of their kitchen at three in the morning, with Techno’s white-trimmed red blanket sitting on his shoulders. He was there, cross-legged with his skin pressing into the colder tiles where his socks and pyjama legs didn’t cover his skin. Holding a bowl of knock-off Cinnamon Toast Crunch. He hadn’t washed his hair in days, it was starting to get greasy. Tommy was unlucky like that, Techno was lucky in that regard. He could just look at his youngest brother and figure out how he had been felt recently. Pale skin, pale eyes, pale hair. All of it showed dirt and grime and tiredness a whole lot easier than Tommy would ever admit. A whole lot easier than he would like , too.
Leaning against the counter with the sink, Techno crossed his arms over himself. It was obvious that it was three in the morning. Techno’s pink hair was thrown carelessly over one shoulder, loose and tangled in a couple areas as it spilled over a dark green sweatshirt he stole from their dad a while back. The white embroidered letters were something about their paternal grandfather’s university back in the British living servers. Glancing down at his socks, Techno wrinkled his nose as he smoothed out some of his blue-checkered flannel sweatpants. They were cooler and looser than they looked.
For the moment, they didn’t need to talk. Tommy just needed him to be there. Techno, for one, was perfectly fine with doing exactly that. Tommy was his little brother. If he had to, Techno would take a bullet for him willingly. No second choices, no hesitation. Anyone who messed with his family would regret it.
As for Tommy, he did know why this was happening. Four years of emotional, mental, and verbal abuse. Maybe a couple more years of physical—never enough to leave bruises, but once Tommy had jokingly regaled the story of how he slapped his brother’s hands because said brother was grabbing his neck and his mother slapped him. Whether it was the face or the arm, Tommy didn’t remember. Still, Techno didn’t like to press. Those people weren’t Tommy’s parents. Not really. At least, they didn’t deserve the title unless Tommy gave it back to them. That was when things changed.
Otherwise…fuck them.
Tommy had a better family. One that actually loved him. One that, sure, came with its little individual screw-ups but didn’t abuse him. Especially not for being him. They didn’t manipulate him. They didn’t gaslight him. They didn’t do so many things. And Tommy’s parents—his abusers —were grown adults. They knew what they were doing was wrong. They chose the path they were on, they chose to lose their own child over some stupid idea they had in their own mind. Personally, Techno couldn’t care less about them. The only good thing they had ever brought into the world, in Techno’s opinion, was Tommy.
Tommy, who had been a child and hadn’t deserved any of what happened to him. Who was tough as nails even with his shitty pain tolerance. Who stepped like he was walking on eggshells after ten at night and before six in the morning and wouldn’t dare leave his room. Who, currently, was probably going to need more cereal at the rate he was going.
“Toms?” Techno asked, voice cracking the quiet. Blinking, Tommy looked over at him. The blankness to his eyes was still there, but it was less gray and more blue. Sort of like the sky before the sun rose in the morning. A rare tone, very pretty and tinged with hints of lavender and pink and orange. Holding up the box, Techno asked, “You want some more cereal?”
Humming, Tommy glanced down at the bowl. Shook his head. Techno nodded. Then, he tucked the cereal box back into its rightful place in the pantry. As he did, the cat passed by under his hand. He stroked a long hand down her back, smiled when she purred softly. They didn’t have any dogs, unlike Tommy’s old home. Sort of a shame, he supposed. But alright. Something that would tell him things were different. He didn’t need to worry. This wasn’t back there.
When he straightened up, cracking his back and rolling a shoulder, Techno turned back to his little brother. Tommy was sitting there on the counter, legs dangling down now. Clearly, he had drank all the milk from the bowl, since it was sitting beside the sink with the spoon forlornly sticking out of it. “You want to go to bed?” Techno asked. Blinking, hands braced on the counter, Tommy moved forwards slightly. Hesitated. Then, he shook his head again. “Alright. Do you want to be out on the couch, then?” Tommy nodded again. “Can I be there with you or do you want—“ Tommy nodded already. “Alright. Come on.” Gently, he helped Tommy down from the counter. Then, he wrapped an arm around Tommy’s shoulders.
Carefully, he walked Tommy into the living room, turning off the lights as he went. The Christmas lights (they had already put up just because it had been so awful lately and they needed the cheer) shone down in varied colors. They got to the couch. Almost instantly, Tommy dropped down and pulled Techno down beside him. Buried his face into Techno’s chest. Blinking, Techno wrapped his arms around his little brother.
He was going to ask Tommy if he wanted to put on a movie or something. Up was usually the most popular choice for him. But if this was what he wanted instead…well, Techno wasn’t going to take that away from him. Instead, he started carding his fingers through Tommy’s curls, one arm draped over his waist to hold him close. Pillows supported his back, he was sure Tommy was going to have a crick in his neck the next morning. From the look of it, though, he didn’t seem to care. He just wanted Techno in that moment.
Kissing Tommy’s hair, Techno settled in for a night of his brother using him as a body pillow.
One of the many joys of being an older brother.