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The sickness made its first appearance on a Monday.
He was sitting in pre-cal, passing notes to Ranboo about cock and balls, when he thought to himself, ‘Hey, I’ve been a little congested lately, haven’t I?’
Of course, instead of thinking any further into it, he wrote another inappropriate joke on a piece of paper, balled it up, and threw it directly at Ranboo's face.
When he woke up the next morning, the congestion was worse.
Tommy rolled out of bed and stumbled down the stairs, dragging his feet.
Wilbur sat at the kitchen table, doing something on his phone. Upon hearing Tommy shuffle into the kitchen, he looked up, shooting Tommy a grin.
“Good morning, sunshine. You look like shit.”
“Morning Wilbur,” Tommy mumbled.
“Not sleep well?” His brother asked gently.
“No.“ Tommy shook his head. “I woke up a lot.”
Tommy glanced over Wilbur, who was far too well put together for a Tuesday morning. “Why are you up so early? I thought you didn’t have any classes till eleven.”
Wilbur laughed awkwardly. “I can’t want to wake up early to see my sweet little brother?”
Tommy glanced around the kitchen. Wilbur was wearing his favorite sweater, drinking coffee that he made on his own, sitting at the table at seven am on a Tuesday with his hair done, and oh, were those flowers on the counter?
“Oh my god.” Tommy grinned, delighted.
“It’s not-“
“Did you seriously wake up at seven in the morning to go see Sally?”
Wilbur shrunk in his seat. Tommy laughed.
“Man, you’ve got it bad. This is so great” Tommy gasped. “Oh! Can I come?”
“Absolutely not. You’ve got school in an hour.”
Tommy pouted. Wilbur very pointedly avoided looking at him.
“Go get ready, you insufferable child.”
Tommy groaned.
“You’re so fucking boring,” Tommy complained.
“Sure. Go get ready, gremlin. Your bus will get here soon.”
After getting ready, Tommy managed to wheedle his brother into driving him to school before he went to Sally’s Diner.
Tommy grinned to himself as he made his way through the school yard. Wilbur was so easy to manipulate.
The blond searched the crowd as he pushed through groups of children for an abnormally tall man with a split dye.
He made his way through the crowded halls, high schoolers lined against the walls conversing amongst themselves, till he finally reached the arts hallway. Tommy rushed past the choir kids, dodging instrument cases and whatever the theater kids were doing with their wild hand gestures.
Finally, he spots them. His favorite people.
“Tubbo! Ranboo!” He cheered.
The pair turned.
“Tommy!” Tubbo called back.
“Hey guys. What’s poppin’?” Tommy asked the pair.
“Please stop saying that,” Ranboo pleaded.
“Not much. What’s poppin’ with you, big man?” Tubbo replied, grinning when Ranboo buried his face in his hands.
Tommy snickered, giving Ranboo a consoling shoulder pat before responding to Tubbo with a “Well, I’ve been a little sniffly recently.”
“Sniffly?” Ranboo makes a concerned noise. “Do you feel warm at all?”
“Nah. I’m good, big man. Just allergies. It’s fuckin annoying as shit though” He waved off his friend.
“Imagine having allergies. Loser. Get better genes, freak,” Tubbo snickered.
Tommy rolled his eyes. “Oh, yeah. I’ll get right on that.”
Ranboo frowned at Tubbo. “Aren’t you literally allergic to eggs? What do you mean ‘get better genes’ your genes are significantly worse.” he argued. “Imagine having an egg allergy," He mocked.
Tubbo punched Ranboo in the arm. “He wasn’t supposed to find out about that!”
“What do you mean I wasn't supposed to find out about that?!” Tommy says. “I’ve literally known you for years, how would I not know that?”
Ranboo laughs and Tubbo grumbles something about memory loss related to nuclear explosions that Tommy decides he isn’t going to look too far into.
They sit and talk for awhile, about silly stuff like Risk and what BPM stands for. (Ranboo swears that its beats per measure, but Tommy knows better. Clearly it means bitches per minute.) Eventually, Tommy forgets he was even congested.
This bliss lasted about four hours. Then, Tommy started getting headaches.
“Tommy? Haven’t you already had enough coffee this morning?” Wilbur asked, looking on from the kitchen table while Tommy poured the rest of the coffee pot into his mug.
“Says the bitch that drinks coffee black.” The blonde snapped back at him, grabbing the cream and sugar.
Wilbur only rolled his eyes and returned to his cereal. “At least I don't put all that sugar in there, like Tech.”
Tommy snorted. He sat down across the table from his oldest brother, sipping on his coffee. He could feel Wilburs eyes on him. Tommy had a feeling he knew why.
“Hey, Toms? Do you want to go out with me and Tech today? I was planning on asking you yesterday, but you were out with Tubbo and Ranboo all day, and I kinda forgot,” Wilbur asked him.
Tommy knew he wouldn’t do very well walking around shopping, but he normally wouldn’t pass up an opportunity like this. Techno and Wilbur rarely had free time like this anymore. It might be suspicious if he says no, as well.
“If you’re not feeling up to it then you don’t have to come.” He added after a second.
“I’m feeling perfectly up to it. ” Tommy responded immediately.
Wilbur grinned, and Tommy had this strange feeling that he had just fallen into a trap of some sort.
“That’s lovely! Go ahead and get ready when you’re done. We’re leaving in about an hour.”
So maybe he’d have been better off staying at home.
Sure, it would’ve been giving in and Wilbur would’ve found out, but if he passed out Wil would have his point proven anyway.
Thankfully, Tommy hadn’t passed out yet, but he was so dizzy. He felt warm everywhere, and was barely keeping himself upright.
After about the third time Tommy had to stop to steady himself, Techno stopped to stand with him. Tommy felt a hand on his lower back, steadying him.
“You’re unwell,” Techno mumbled to him. In front of them, Wilbur continued walking, going on some rant about ethical sweaters, and how they could be used to end all anteaters.
“I’m doing just great, thanks.” Tommy grumbled back.
“You’re barely standing on your own. You’re sick. We need to go home.” Techno replied, voice stern. Tommy felt his resolve crumbling.
“Tech..” Tommy whined, burying his face in Techno’s shoulder.
“We’ve gotta tell Wilbur.” Techno responded, running his hands through Tommy’s hair soothingly.
“I don’t wanna,” he mumbled.
“I know, kid, but we need to.” Techno pulled himself away from Tommy, keeping an arm wrapped around Tommy’s waist so that he wouldn’t fall over. “Hey, Wil? You were right. The child’s sick.”
The brunette stopped mid-rant, turning back to the two with a triumphant grin. “So you’re done being stubborn and not letting us help you?”
Tommy grumbled in acquiesce, sending Wilbur an annoyed glare. From beside him, Techno huffed.
“C’mon, sunshine. Let’s get you home.” Wilbur tugged on Tommy’s arm, and led them both back to the parking lot.
The car ride was mostly silent. Techno would check his review every so often to check on Tommy, even though he was fine. Wilbur sat in the passenger side, playing around with the radio.
Tommy wondered if Wilbur thought the world would end if they listened to a song all the way though. He’d changed the station twelve times in the past five minutes.
When they got out of the car, Techno helped him up and led him to the couch. Wilbur sat down beside him, pulling Tommy into his chest while Techno grabbed some stuff from the kitchen.
“Why didn’t you tell us?” Wilbur asked after a moment.
“Didn’t want to worry you guys,” he mumbled.
“Oh, sweetheart. We’ll always be worried about you. We worry because we love you, yeah? Don’t keep stuff like this from us. We’ll only be more worried.”
“Oh,” Tommy said, wrapping his arms around his brother’s torso. “I love you guys too.”
“C'mere, sunshine.” Wilbur brushed Tommy’s hair out of his eyes. Tommy blinked up at him groggily. “Aww,” Wilbur cooed. “You're kinda precious, dear. You’re so cuddly when you’re sick.”
“You’re such a bitch. Why do I even associate myself with you? I want Techno back,” Tommy grumbled, despite not making any moves to get away from Wilbur.
There was an amused huff from across the room, and the sound of footsteps padding across the room.
“Hey Tech,” The eldest greeted.
“Techno! My saviour!” Tommy cheered.
“The soup is almost done, and Phil should be home soon. Tommy probably needs some rest. Should I carry him upstairs?” Techno asked Wilbur.
“I don’t know. We should probably wait and ask Phil what we should do about him.” Wilbur responded.
“Hey, guys? What about my opinion?” Tommy frowned.
“I don’t know either. If you want to stay here with him, I can finish the soup. By then Phil should probably be home,” Techno replied, ignoring Tommy.
“Guys,” Tommy groaned. “Guys, I’m also here.”
“Yeah, that’s fine. I’ll see if I can put him to sleep, and when Phil is home we’ll figure out all the rest from there,” Wilbur decided.
“Oh my god. I’m not a fucking baby. You can’t ‘put me to sleep,’ you fucking prick,” Tommy snapped at him.
“But you are a baby, Toms! My sweet little baby brother,” He cooed, squishing Tommy’s cheeks.
“I’ll fucking bite you, bitch. Get away from me,” Tommy grumbled, pawing at Wilbur’s wrists.
Techno quirked his lips. “You two yell if you need anything.” Techno nodded at Tommy and disappeared into the kitchen yet again.
They sat in comfortable silence. The smell of butter and salt seeped into the room as Techno continued preparing what was probably potato soup. Tommy sighed dramatically. He was bored.
"I'm bored,” He tells Wilbur.
Wilbur hummed. "Wanna watch a movie, love?”
Tommy nodded, cuddling into Wilbur's side.
Wilbur hummed and tapped Tommy's cheek.
“What do you want to watch, buddy?”
“Up?” Tommy asked.
“Of course you do,” Wilbur sighed, sounding way too fond to be annoyed.
Underneath him, Wilbur shifted, likely grabbing the remote. There was more shifting, and then the movie’s introduction began.
“When will Dad get home?” He asked his brother.
“He’ll just be a few more minutes. You should try to rest if you can,” Wilbur murmured in reply.
Tommy hummed in reply. He let himself drift, with the familiar sounds of the movie in the background and his brother’s warmth.
The next time Tommy woke up, Wilbur was gone. There was something cool on his forehead, and voices above him.
“And he didn’t tell either of you?” One of the voices — his Dad, he thinks — said.
“No. He’s been keeping it from all of us. I’m glad Wilbur caught it when he did.” This was probably Techno, Tommy thought.
“Chaotic little shit. We’ll have to talk about this with him later. He can’t do this shit again. He’ll give me a heart attack.”
Techno hummed an agreement. “Phil, he’s awake.”
Tommy blinked slowly. The light was so bright. He squinted.
“Hey mate. How’re you feeling?” Phil asked him, gently brushing Tommy’s hair out of his face.
“Dadza.” Phil raised an eyebrow at the nickname. “I’m going to perish. This is it for me.”
“You’ll make it, Tommy. Techno made you some soup that’ll help you feel a little better, and Wilbur will be back with some medicine soon. Here, come on.” Phil put a hand on Tommy’s back, helping him sit up all the way.
Beside Phil, Techno sat a bowl on the coffee table, and took a spoonful of soup to Tommy’s mouth. Tommy stared at it blankly.
“It’s soup, child. Open your mouth,” said Techno.
Tommy blinked at Techno. “Are you sure? Because that looks like-“
Techno shoved the spoon in his mouth.
“Don’t choke him, Techno!” Phil scolded.
Techno shrugged. “He was being difficult. If that’s the only way we’ll get him to eat then that’s how he’s gonna eat.”
The blonde swallowed uncomfortably. He shot Techno a glare and took the bowl and spoon. Very begrudgingly, Tommy took a spoonful to his mouth.
Techno snorted.
Phil rolled his eyes fondly.
There was a sudden banging from the door, and then a “I’m back, guys!”
Tommy looked over his shoulder, meeting eyes with a very out of breath Wilbur.
Phil chuckled. “Did you run back, mate?”
Wilbur shoots him a disgruntled stare, before refocusing on Tommy.
“Hey buddy,” he says sweetly, walking up behind him and ruffling his hair. “How’re you feeling?”
Tommy frowns. “Okay. Been better.”
“I’m sorry dear. I brought you some medicine to take after you finish your food. That should help clear you up a little,” Wilbur says.
Tommy hums a little affirmation. “Thanks, Wilby.” He slurs.
Wilbur flushes and Techno sends him a smug little grin. ‘You’re so soft’ He mouths at his brother.
“You too, Techie. Your soup sucks massively, but I’m glad you made it,” Tommy says after a moment.
Techno gets that same smug grin aimed right back at him when he stutters a “Thank you?” in reply.
Tommy nods and closes his eyes. He’s tired.
After a few days of rest, and significantly more softness then Tommy was ever really prepared for, he was feeling better. This meant quite a few things.
One, he was no longer confined to the couch.
Two, he was significantly more coherent then he had been with that fucking fever clouding his thoughts.
Three, he was now going to have to explain why he didn’t tell his family about his sickness, and instead decided to drag it out until he physically couldn’t.
This last thing, the whole telling his family about how he ended up at the mall barely capable of standing up straight thing was what Tommy was currently facing.
“I’m glad you’re feeling better, kiddo. Now that you’re finally clear headed, I think we should talk about some things,” Phil had said.
“Like what things? Are you finally going to admit to your romantic feelings for our fridge?” Tommy asked, a valiant, yet feeble attempt to change the subject.
Wilbur, who was sitting at the table beside them, choked on his cereal. Techno snickered. Phil frowned, confused.
“What?”
Wilbur laughed at Phil’s confusion, once again choking on his cereal.
“You know what? Nevermind.” Phil says. “Tommy, I need to know why you didn’t say anything to us. You know we love you. Why didn’t you ask for help?”
Tommy sighed. There was no avoiding this. “You guys are always so busy with everything else. Techno’s got fencing. Wilbur just started a band. You’re working on a super important commission, and I know you’re all stressed. I didn’t want to make it any harder for you guys. I thought I could handle it,” Tommy says. “I’m sorry I worried you all. I didn’t mean to.”
“Dear,” Wilbur says. “Don’t ever think that way again. I’d drop everything for you. We all would. We love you.”
Techno nods. “We do. I would. I was worried about you.”
Tommy suddenly feels the urge to cry. He bites his lip.
Phil grabs Tommy’s hands. “Tommy, you could never be a nuisance. We want to take care of you. You gotta tell us when you’re feeling unwell, okay? Let us take care of you.”
Tommy sniffs. “Okay. I will. I’m sorry.”
Phil wipes a stray tear from his cheek. “Don’t be. You’re okay.”
Tommy nods and buries his face in Phils shirt. He feels arms wrap around him, and it's so warm. He’s so lucky, he thinks.