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the world isn't ending.
that's all he knows.
his blue eyes blink open only to immediatly shut again at the smoke burning them, screams are heard from all around him and crashes are heard everywhere.
but there's also a sort of quiet, the ringing in his ears hushes the world, as if its all a nightmare that he can wake up from soon.
except its not, is it?
his bedroom is half broken, the once-red walls do have a crack down the middle, glass sprayed out all over his floor.
a picture of him and his best friend from a few years ago lies in it, the case as cracked as the wall, straight down the middle of the two. it's almost ironic really, foreshadowing, considering the duo would never see eachother again, never say their last goodbyes.
the loud chug of a plane zooms overhead and his eyes blink open again, furrowing at the ceiling.
he should probably run, right?
tommy doesn't know, he doesn't know what to do. what does someone do when their being bombed? they dont exactly teach this sort of thing in school.
it hits him then, whats happening. he had heard it might. but then it was always if's and maybe's, hushed conversations over the dinner table, adults consipiring in the streets.
this didn't feel like a maybe.
suddenly, the ringing is gone, the nightmare is over. suddenly, its all real. the screams arent from the back of his mind and the plane is most likely murdering his neighbours in cold blood.
the old lady who lives down the road, with her annoying-ass dog and curly grey hair. the man next door, who's always blasting music at two am then baking cookies for them to apologize. his brothers- oh god, oh god his brothers. he has a family, he has a dad, and brothers and..
he needs to find techno, techno will know what to do. techno is a fighter, techno never dies. he'll pull tommy into a hug and bury his face in tommy's hair and whisper "you're okay, let's go to safety", and he will lead him to safety, and he will be safety because its techno.
and will, he should probably find will, and dad. but theyre already safety, yes, they must be. where else would they be? yes, they're already safe, and techno going to come in and bring tommy to safety.
he slips his legs out of the covers and over the side of the bed, feet reaching for his slippers. they must have been blown away, however, as only the cold of his wooden floors is under him as he stands up.
he ignores it, and rushes over to the exit, avoiding the glass as quickly as he can manage. the door clicks open with the same click he had heard so many times.
thinking about it, their used to be a rug right outside his door, and sometimes when he would be really tired in the morning he would trip over it. then will would tease him and techno would snort and phil would roll his eyes with a fond smile.
the rug is gone.
so is alot of the house.
theyre lucky, he supposes, that they live in a bungalow, it would be alot harder for him if he was off the ground. it means that despite the kitchen having a large hole in it and the front door blown off its hinges, he can still make it out relatively easily.
it doesnt mean he heads towards the exit however, he instead heads towards technos room, the closest to the kitchen.
the pinkette had grinned triumphantly when he got it, a rare thing, and said happily how he could get midnight snacks. it also meant whenever tommy would wake up in the night he could easily slip into technos room and the older would be awake. those nights were the best, his usually isolated older brother would welcome him with open arms, he would lay his head on techno's lap and he would read him stories of whatever he was interested in recently, mainly off of the top of his own head.
the door is slightly open, unusually, and the wall closest to the kitchen has a dark burn across it. tommy stumbles forward, avoiding the rubble as best he can, towards the entrance.
his older brothers room used to be very bland to tommys taste, gray walls and dark wood. he had a large, king bed (that tommy was always joke-protesting that he should have, compared to his single) and a dresser, once covered in many gold jewelry.
none of it is left.
the hole in the kitchen had extended to his older brothers room, the corner was completely gone, making a makeshift view to both the kitchen and the outside. if tommy had peered over the rubble pile against the far wall he would have caught sight of what used to be the dresser, gold around caught on the stones.
but he wasnt looking at that. tommy was looking at the body in the middle of the room. tommy would recognise that pink hair anywhere.
the same pink hair will often begged to plait, the same pink hair phil always complained about when the dye stained the shower floor, the same pink hair tommy insisted he would have when he would be "as old and cool as tech".
his older brothers eyes are grey and wide, a contrast to their usual blue and bored expression. his lips are slightly parted and his skin looks significantly paler than usual.
tommy's breath hitches and he stumbles back against the doorframe, clutching it as to not fall over. he's silent, and all of the sounds around him seemed to be drowned out.
he doesn't cry, he doesn't sob, he doesn't kneel over his dead brother and pray for mercy. he just stares, and stares, and-
"TOMMY!"
the blonde would recognise that voice if it had a voice changer over it. his other older brother was always good at that, talking, making his voice known.
he would cough and all the attention would go to him, he was like a walking god. everyone loved him, everyone loves will. he and techno were polar opposites.
he doesn't turn at the voice though, he doesn't scream for help and he doesn't rush into his brothers arm, he just stares.
because techno never dies. techno was never supposed to die. techno was supposed to be the god, he was the one who could recite stories from memory and make tommy feel more special than will ever could, he was the one who shared secret amused glances whenever the middle child got too boisterous, he was the one who had all the inside jokes "just between them."
"i'll never die toms, i promise, im too cool for something as measly as death." what a load of bullshit.
"tommy!" will calls again and he feels a tug on his arm, "tommy thank god." his older brothers arms are warm, familiar, almost comforting.
and tommy breaks.
"he's gone will." he sobs, not moving to hug his brother back, his eyes crinkled in an attempt not to scream out.
"we need to go." is all he hears back until suddenly he's in the morning air, on the very road he grew up in, and everything is so familiar yet so heartbreakingly broken.
"will.. will where's dad?"
phil is a good man. after his wife died he thought he was decently successful in making sure their three sons got the good life they deserved.
tommy loves phil, he inherited the most from him after all. from the limited photos he had seen growing up he knew his mother was a dark-eyed, dark-haired woman. something that both techno and wilbur inherited, except tech's eyes.
but tommy, tommy is the spitting image of his father. blonde hair, blue eyes. they both have identical dimples and apparently the same smiles. that, that was his. that was something his older brothers couldnt take away from him.
wilbur pauses infront of him, and tommy blinks at him through the smoke. "he's safe." the brunette mutters, "he's safe.. in, in the shelter waiting for us." and then they were going again, slightly faster than before.
if tommy was thinking straight he would have realised that never in a million years would phil had left them behind, that phil would never leave his boys behind. but he wasnt, so he just nods mutely and lets himself be tugged along.
the road is completely filled with rubble, the screams had ceased now and the quiet had returned. the streets were bare and the smoke hangs in the air like a bad cloud in those cartoons, as if the rain is pouring on them and only them.
as if the world is only ending for them.
tommy isn't actually sure where the shelter was, or what the shelter is, or that there even was a shelter. and by his older brothers uncertain stumbling he's pretty sure he feels the same.
he wraps his free arm around himself and watches the floor, letting will lead him blindly. the road looks the same as it always had. the same it did when he scuffed his feet against it after getting detention, the same road he fell on and got the light scratch on his cheek he was often found showing off.
a drop of water falls off of his skin and onto the stones, and he realises he's crying.
oh.
there's another rumble overhead and wilbur jolts to a stop, causing tommy to collide into his back. a few hours ago he would have complained and rubbed his nose despite it barely hurting. he does neither.
"will?" he whispers, until he's being pulled again, alot more frantically this time, into a nearby house.
"will?" he whispers again, alot more breathlessly, and he's once again ignored.
the noise, he quickly realises, is another plane, he and will crouch behind the woman's window, his older brother having hastily brushed away the glass causing a few cuts on his hands, much to tommy's quiet protest.
said blonde's breath catches as he watches the plane. it looks exactly how he had expected an army jet to look. he subconsciously curls into his older brother who opens his arms willingly, tapping a familiar tune onto toms side.
will was a musician. he was often found playing showtunes and showing off his skills on the guitar. but with tommy, his music was more.. personal.
wilbur never showed off his skills for song-writing in public. he was embarrassed of it, at least thats what he said. tommy didnt see why, considering his music is some of the best songs on the planet, but didnt complain.
wilbur's songs were theres, and no one else had the same pleasure of hearing them as tommy. the beat that will taps onto his side now is the blonde's personal favorite, perfume.
wilbur is also a very hug-prone, often found wrapping his arms around the people he cares about, resting his head on their shoulder. tommy was usually the victim of this attack, since their dad was usually too busy and techno was never one to hug for no reason.
all the blonde's protest were meaningless however, he actually loved his older brothers embrace, not that he would ever admit to it.
"I'm scared..." he whispers, huddling into the crook of will's arm. the brunette's breath catches, "i know toms, we'll be okay."
it was a dumb thing to say, even will knew that, especially since before he even finishes his sentence a small, black shadow is falling out of the aircraft.
a tear slips out of his brown eye and he clutches his brothers blonde curls, maneouvering him so he's facing away from the window. "We're going to be okay." he chokes.
he feels tommy nod against his shoulder and shuts his eyes shut, willing himself not to sob. "you want to tell me about your school day yesterday?" he mumbles into the blonde curls.
tommy blinks, confused, and nods again slowly, "okay." he whispers, "okay uh, well I had maths first.. which sucks because i hate maths. i think, i think they should ban math, just forever. then.. then we had english, which i don't like that much but tech likes it so-" if he hears his brothers sob he ignores it, "-i listen anyway so i can tell him about it later.
"we were learning about this one poet, he had the same first name as you, wilbur soot, and his famous line-"
will smiles softly, "yeah, i know it." he pauses, "it was never meant to b-"