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Tommy was tired of arguing with Wilbur.
It had seemed like the only thing they knew how to do anymore, throwing mean words full of lies at each other over and over again, grating at one another's nerves with regret and uncertainty behind each word and unfair jab. The brothers had been apart for so long, had kept to themselves and devoured their own feelings and emotions that it didn’t feel right to finally have the one person they used to share everything with and feel genuinely safe around be right back at their side.
They had been awkward at first, every interaction filled with an awkward silence that hung in the air for hours, but unable to let the other out of their sight. Tommy had felt panicky and sick at the thought of his brother being back again, had assumed that the worst would happen and he would only spiral further than Dream had managed to let him.
But the day after Wilbur’s resurrection, Tommy had found his brother waiting for him outside of his home, just as he once did when Wilbur had first taken him in, and they had spent the day in silence and the comfort of one anothers warmth. The silence and comfort never lasted too long, a nasty argument between the pair eventually ruining it, but Tommy savored the moments nonetheless.
Which he supposes had been the reason for their current situation.
Wilbur had received a letter from Quackity, asking to meet at Las Nevadas. Tommy had been ready to spend the day without his brother, figuring that the two would want to have a private meetup, knowing they had once been rather close, but was instead surprised to hear Wilbur ask him to lead him to their shared friend.
He honestly should have known that nothing Wilbur ever did would be peaceful, even if it was a simple meeting with an old friend. Things had turned rather quickly, and after Tommy had joked about the height of Quackity’s tower and Wilbur had panicked and yanked him away from the edge, he was ready to go home and spend time cuddled up in Tubbo’s home. He hadn’t visited his best friends and nephew in a while, and Wilbur being down his throat and dragging him into controversies was giving him plenty of reason to head towards the snow covered nation and hide away.
For now though, he decided to drag his feet a few feet into the woods, away from his annoying brother and angry friend, away from the yelling and the gloating and the never ending manipulation and authority that was always held in Wilbur’s voice. It had haunted him for days and weeks and months and it still brought him to almost tears hearing the tone of his brother's voice take that turn and an aura of danger and anger.
When Quackity had finally left, throwing looks over his shoulder as the two brothers taunted him and laughed, was when the arguing had started once again. Tommy had thought that they were getting better, thought that they were starting to understand each other once again and no longer had to argue to feel close to one another, but he should have known.
Peace never lasts long when one is in the presence of Wilbur Soot.
He just had to bring up Dream. His personal saviour, his old ally turned friend and reviver.
Tommy’s biggest abuser and worst nightmare.
He wonders if Wilbur knows anything about his death that kept them close to one another for three months in the afterlife.
“You don’t want me to speak to Dream again, right?” Wilbur spoke, coming around the corner of the small building Tommy had put together as a distraction from his brothers arguing and harsh words. His eyes landed on Tommy, sitting down on the ground with his knees pulled up to his chest and shaky fingers grasping loosely at his blonde locks.
“I don’t want anyone speaking to him, Wil.”
“Well if I speak to him once,” Wilbur made sure to put emphasis on the word, “that loose end is tied and I will have no reason to talk to him.” He was right, Tommy hated to admit, but it didn’t stop the panic that raised up his spine and made him sit up straighter, turning his head to stare wide eyed at his stupid brother who refused to listen to a single word he said.
“Wil I want Dream dead! I can’t… I can’t keep letting him hurt people, especially my fam-”
“I know you do, Tom.” Wilbur interrupted, turning on his heel and heading back into the half made building that Tommy already felt filling with unhappy memories and broken voices. He felt the panic again, felt it shoving and ripping apart his insides as he shot up and followed his brother inside, hands shaking at his sides and breath quickening despite his best efforts.
“You know Tommy, you keep saying that you hate Dream and you want him dead,” he refused to turn around and speak to Tommy’s face. “But you keep letting him sway these decisions back and forth. You keep letting him control you and everyone else around you.”
Tommy shook his head, taking a step towards Wilbur’s turned back before hesitating, pressing his foot defiantly into the ground and feeling tears burn at the backs of his eyelids. He opened his mouth to argue back but Wilbur continued on, slicing deeper into Tommy’s skin with each word.
“If you don’t want me to visit Dream, then I won’t, Tom. But… Things aren’t going to be solved until I can get in there and speak to him. You have to let me go.”
“Wilbur you don’t need to talk to him! The loose end was tied the moment you were brought back, there’s no reason for you to go in there and risk your life!” He was starting to feel angry, was glaring daggers into his brother's back and curling his fingers into fists, heart beating out of his chest and stomach aching.
“Tommy, death is a big thing!” He looked at Tommy over his shoulder, brown eyes full of fire and anger that Tommy hated to have turned towards him. “You know that. Dream brought me back from that, and I feel that a proper thank you is-”
Tommy raised his hands and pressed them over his ears, turning his brother's loud voice into a distant mumble, still there and present as ever, but muffled and hard to catch. His voice still ate away at Tommy’s senses, getting louder and angrier with each jab that Tommy was glad he couldn’t hear.
He knew he was being annoying and stupid about it, knew that he was being a child about letting his older brother, who he didn’t even feel close to anymore, from going and visiting a person of his choosing, but it hurt to think that Wilbur wanted to speak to Dream of all people.
Wilbur knew that Dream had hurt him, knew that Dream was in prison because he was going to kill Tubbo and have Tommy locked away for the rest of his life. He knew that Dream had fucked with both of their heads before Wilbur’s death, that Dream had been a manipulative asshole the entirety of their exile in Pogtopia. But he still insisted on going and visiting their shared abuser. He still insisted on visiting the person that had put Tommy through hell and back time and time again.
A surge of anger coursed through him, mixing with the panic and the anxiety and finally pushing him to speak the truth for his reluctance.
“I can’t lose you again!” Tommy finally yelled, his hands falling from where they had been covering his ears against Wilbur’s angry words. Tears streaked down his reddened cheeks, and he stared down at the ground rather stubbornly, avoiding looking at his brother.
Wilbur fell silent, the sounds of his footsteps stopping as well, leaving only the distant sound of casino machines and the small river to fill the silence left in the wake of his words.
Tommy could feel his hands shaking at his sides, tears dropping from his chin and down his neck, snot stuffing his nose and causing his breaths to fall from his mouth in pants. His head hurt and he wanted so desperately to go home and leave his stupid brother and his stupd arguments here on the outskirts of Las Nevadas.
“I can’t… lose you again, Wil. I…” He stopped and took a deep breath, hands forming fists at his sides to stop the shaking, to try and steady himself to spill his heart out to his brother for the first time since they had worn their L’Manberg uniforms.
“I fucking hate you for what you did to me that day, Wil. You destroyed my home, and then you destroyed me when you left and you did it again when you came back. And as much as I absolutely hate to admit it, it fucking hurt. A lot.” He took a step back when he saw Wilbur turn around to face him, brown boots sinking into the wet dirt. Tommy shook his head, closing his eyes against the tears that still fell down his cheeks.
“Everything in my life went to shit without you man. I-I suffered a lot without you there. I was exiled and manipulated and used and a thousand other things that are going to follow me forever because you weren’t there for me when I most needed you.” The words ached, burned at his throat and forced tears to further their descent down his raw cheeks.
“I didn’t… I didn’t have my big brother there anymore.” They felt like acid on his tongue with how true they were. He wiped at the sweat that was settling on his upper lip, internally cringing at the feeling of his hair sticking to his forehead as the heat around them only seemed to increase.
Tommy hadn’t been honest with anybody in a while. The only person he ever really spoke to about anything was Tubbo, but he wasn’t here right now. He wasn’t here to witness Tommy being so open and vulnerable in front of the person he had promised he would never appear weak in front of again. Tommy hadn’t been so outwardly caring towards Wilbur like this since before L’Manberg had been built up.
“Tommy-” Wilbur started, not making a move forward but still making Tommy flinch with his words and to shake his head.
“You’ve used and manipulated me almost more than Dream has by the time you died, Wil. And there is so much shit that I haven’t and will never forgive you for, and I fucking hate knowing that you’re already out here scheming and making plans to fuck up everything that I’ve wored so hard for… But I can’t lose you again, Wil. It hurt too much the first time, it’s going to fucking ruin me if I have to lose you a second time.”
A beat of silence.
“I’ve stayed with you because I missed you, Wilbur. Because you’re my big brother. I haven’t stopped your planning and your ridiculous speeches, and I’ve stuck by you when Tubbo and Ranboo told me not to. You’re fucking important to me, as much as I fucking hate to admit.”
He finally looked up towards his brother, wiping at his tears and more sweat and watching as Wilbur took a couple of steps towards him. He couldn’t read Wilbur’s expression, had never really been able to anyway, but he so desperately wished that he could right now. He needed to know that he wasn’t bearing his soul to Wilbur just to be thrown down and ignored. He needed to confirm that it was all okay and he was being taken seriously, that he was getting it across just how badly he didn’t want Wilbur to go and see Tommy’s greatest enemy.
But Wilbur just mutely kept walking towards him, closing the small space between them with an expression of stone and skin pale and shining.
“Wil, if you go in there, Dream is gonna take you away from me again.” He felt like sobbing on the words, hating how his stomach dropped at the thought and the bile that threatened to rise up his throat. “He always takes away the things that are important to me, Wil. Always.”
His voice came out small and broken, more fat tears sliding down his thin cheeks and settling against his worn skin.
He didn’t get to continue after that, his next words getting caught in his throat when he was suddenly being wrapped in a hug by a pair of arms that Tommy hadn’t felt in what he could have sworn was years. He felt warm in the embrace of his brother, felt protected and at home in the arms that he had missed being wrapped up in, who he hasn’t felt safe with in so many months.
Hesitantly, Tommy raised his arms and let them fall around Wilbur, hands fisting against the material of Wilbur’s jacket, body melting against the tall frame of his brother and his face burying itself against Wilbur’s sharp shoulder, suddenly feeling a type of vulnerable that he hadn’t felt since he was a stupid little kid.
“You’re not gonna lose me, Tom. That’s one thing I can promise you right now. I’m never going to leave you again.” He squeezed Tommy’s shoulders as he spoke, speaking the words into his blonde head of hair and bringing the younger so much comfort he felt like sobbing again.
“I’m here to protect you now, alright? I’m not going anywhere as long as you’re still alive.” Tommy felt his shoulders relax at the words, even if he didn’t completely believe them. He just wanted Wilbur to confirm that he was going to listen, that he understood Tommy’s concerns and was going to make sure that they didn’t happen.
“We’ll talk about this later though,” he finished, releasing his hold on Tommy and pushing past him before Tommy could look up at his face and see his expression. His voice had been so devoid of emotion that it left Tommy frozen in his place, his sneakers sinking into the mud after standing still for so long, and his heart breaking in his chest as tears welled at his eyes, threatening to drop at any moment. He turned to state ar Wilbur’s retreating back, annoyance, shock and sadness shooting through him all at once.
“Wil?” He called, voice cracking and face flushing.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Tommy. Get home safe.”
All Tommy could do was watch as Wilbur shoved his gloved hands into his pockets and walked away, dropping all of Tommy’s words behind him as he did so.