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“We’re ready, Mr. Soot.”
Adjusting his red beanie, Wilbur stood up, guitar in hand, up from the cold chair beneath him. His fingers drummed against the side of his leg and he walked through the hospital doors.
Now, remember what we talked about, Wilbur, he thought to himself. We’re just here to play for the nice children.
A few weeks ago, a friend suggested Wilbur should play for the children’s hospital. They were open to accepting any musician who would happily volunteer to go into each child’s room and play some music. Wilbur, community-service minded as he was, agreed to do it.
He didn’t mind. He loved to share music with the world. The only thing is, sometimes his heart was too soft, and he can easily get overwhelmed out of sorrow and compassion for those who were suffering.
He wasn’t sure if he would be able to bear seeing a kid he liked get seriously ill or…
So he told himself, he was not going to get attached to any of the children here.
—----
So far, in each room he went into, the children were all very respectful. Many of them hummed and sat on the edge of their beds, some of them fell asleep, others sang along. Wilbur was enjoying making them happy so much he almost forgot why he was so afraid and nervous in the first place. He thought they were cute, but as long as he reminded himself that he didn’t have any personal ties to them, he was good to go.
He continued walking down the hall, following the nurse in front of him. Normally, all the rooms they went into had open doors, meaning visitors were allowed to walk in and out. When they came up to the next open room, Wilbur was surprised that the nurse walked past it without looking back.
“Um, excuse me.. ma'am?”
The nurse turned around.
Wilbur pointed towards the room. “Er, aren’t we going to go into this one?”
“Oh, that’s Tommy. He doesn’t take visitors.”
“Are you sure?”
The nurse nodded. “Best not waste your hour there. Come on, I’ll show you to the next child’s room.”
Wilbur hesitantly looked into the room. He had to lean over to see the boy named Tommy, enough to notice him sleeping with earbuds plugged in.
“It looks like he likes music-”
“Don’t worry about him. Really. You do not want to play for him.”
“Oh, okay.”
And with that, Wilbur followed the nurse. He didn’t know why he felt something drawing him to the kid, but he decided the nurse knew best. She was probably right anyway. Tommy might not want anyone near him. Visitors might make him uncomfortable, or maybe he liked being alone. Whatever it was, he wasn’t here to pick and choose a favorite anyway.
—----
“Thank you so much for coming here today, Mr. Soot! We loved having you around. Please let us know if you want to do this again!”
Wilbur shook the hand of another nurse. “It was a pleasure,” he replied awkwardly.
“You know the way out, right?” the first nurse asked.
He nodded.
“Okay! Well, I need to go now. It was so wonderful meeting you. Hope to see you around again soon!”
And with that, the nurse rushed off. After she was out of sight, Wilbur walked his way back. He was about to turn to the hallway where the exit was, but stopped himself, when his eyes drifted again to Tommy’s room. He decided it wouldn’t hurt to take a peak.
Quietly, in case Tommy was still sleeping, Wilbur crept towards the entrance. He froze in his tracks when he saw the boy.
There, sitting up in the bed, was the most radiant child he had ever seen. His eyes were a captivating tint of ocean blue, while the soft golden curls on his hair were splayed on his head. The boy laughed at something on the TV, and Wilbur’s heart squeezed at the beautiful liveliness of it.
Did he really not want to hear some music?
“Hullo.”
Tommy froze, looking out the door.
“Who are you?” he answered plainly with an accent. A fellow Brit, Wilbur chuckled fondly.
“No one,” he smiled. “Just here to play some music if you’d like.”
Tommy raised his eyebrow. He didn’t welcome him, yet he didn’t reject him. Wilbur took that as permission to enter.
He walked in, setting his guitar down and opening the case. Tommy watched him the whole time as he sat down and strummed a few warm-up notes.
“Do you have any particular songs you like?”
Tommy shrugged. “I don’t care.”
“Um, okay then.”
So Wilbur decided to play one of his own songs. He didn’t play his songs for the other children because they were all very young and enjoyed something more upbeat. Wilbur’s acoustic songs were calmer. So when he saw Tommy, who seemed a little older, he thought he might be able to bear something slow.
At the first notes of Jubilee Line, Tommy’s eyes widened in interest. Wilbur continued playing the intro, until he began singing. Right when he started singing, Tommy shifted closer.
“Wasting your time,
Wasting mine.”
Wilbur looked up to see Tommy genuinely interested. He continued on.
“I hate to see you leaving,
A fate worse than dying.”
As Wilbur hummed, Tommy hummed too.
“Your city gave me asthma,
And that’s why I’m-”
Wilbur stopped. He almost forgot he had a swear word there. Should he be swearing in front of a child?
“Why did you stop?” Tommy asked, his head tilted as if it was already half in a dream.
“Erm,” Wilbur stuttered. “I- I almost forgot I had a swear word there.”
“So what?” the boy laughed. “Rat-head, you play whatever the fly you want! I don’t flying care what you say. Only these ratty hospital nurses will care if you say things like- shoot, just play! It’s art. Who flying cares?”
And that, that made Wilbur laugh. Tommy swore so much, even he couldn’t keep up. “Bird-brain,” he teased under his breath.
“Shoot, I swear so much even my nurse, Puffy, has to tell me to stop!”
“Well you’re only what, fifteen? Sixteen?”
“Seventeen.” Tommy grinned. Wilbur was filled with warmth at the sight of it. “I’m almost an adult!”
“Pfft.”
“-And then I’ll be able to swear as much as I want!”
“Tommy, you do know swearing makes you look less mature sometimes, right?”
Tommy kicked his feet against the edge of the bed. “It makes me more British.”
Wilbur laughed, higher than he had ever laughed before.
“But it’s true! Stars, it’s annoying these Americans are so sensitive to my swearing.”
“Tommy,” Wilbur spoke in between song-filled wheezes. “What the fly!” he cackled like a maniac. He’d never laughed like this before. Where did it come from all of a sudden?
“See you do it too,” Tommy pointed at him. He looked serious and challenging, as if proving a master’s thesis, which made it all even more adorable to Wilbur. Then he waved his hand. “Anyway, keep playing. I like your voice.”
Wilbur flushed at the sudden compliment. He didn’t expect the kid to like him so fast. He thought he hated visitors, just like the nurse said.
He shook off the attachment. Remember! his head screamed as he pulled his chair right by Tommy. Their knees knocked together, sending a strange spur of energy through Wilbur. Just this once, he assured his conscience. He breathed in, and continued playing.
—----
Wilbur ended up playing his entire album. He was so caught up in the music, he lost all senses. When he finished, he found Tommy fast asleep, his sunny head on his shoulder.
The world paused around Wilbur. He almost felt like exploding at the absolute sweetness of the affectionate child. Why, why would anyone think he didn’t like visitors? He seemed to enjoy the company of others. Even more, why was he suddenly so trusting of Wilbur? Was there something about his demeanor or personality that Tommy was just naturally drawn to?
No, no, no attachments, Wilbur. Remember your weaknesses!
Fly it, Wilbur dismissed as he buried his face into Tommy’s hair. At that moment, he stopped breathing. Oh, Tommy’s hair was so, so soft. He buried his face further without thinking. He forgot himself, his purpose here. Reasoning and logic deferred. He didn’t even know this child! Why was he suddenly so in love?
Tommy immediately felt like a little brother or son to him: young, small and fragile. Tommy, his Tommy, he thought possessively. He will protect this child with whatever it takes. He will visit him everyday. He will play more and more music. Wilbur will be Tommy’s, and Tommy will be Wilbur’s.
Stars, he foolishly forgot why children are in a hospital in the first place.
—----
The next day, Wilbur came back. He still brought his guitar, but this time, he only had one kid in mind.
“Excuse me,” Wilbur sputtered as he ran up to the front-desk, jittery and excited to see the child again. “I’m here to see Tommy.”
The woman at the desk tilted her head. “Which Tommy?”
Shoot. Fly. He never got Tommy’s last name, and Tommy never even got his first. Yesterday, they shared a beautiful silence and bonded in between that quiet. Names weren’t necessary.
Not until now at least.
“Um,” he stuttered. “I’m not quite sure, but he’s the boy with sunny blond hair and blue eyes that remind you of the sky.” A picture of Tommy came into his head, and a fond smile snuck on his face unknowingly while he began gushing over the boy without the ability to stop. “And when you make a witty joke he’ll give you this smile that makes you feel like the world, and his laugh is so full that it makes you want to laugh too. He’s a smart boy and enjoys going into a debate with you. And his hair,” he returned back to his hair. “It’s so soft, and is made of messy curls that fall over his face when he leans over his head to listen to your music.”
He was hoping that was enough for the receptionist to know who he was talking about, but when he looked at her face again, she seemed perplexed.
“Sir, you could have just described any child here. Especially if you’re so fond.”
Wilbur blushed. Fond? I’m fond? I’m not fond. How cruel. These people didn’t even know the child! He tried to think of something that would obviously distinguish Tommy from the others in the eyes of people who didn’t pay attention to him as much. He almost grinned cheekily.
“He’s British, and enjoys swearing.”
Realization struck the woman.
“Ah. You mean Tomathy Simons.”
Tomathy? Wilbur wheezed.
She nodded. “Yup. I’ll get a medical assistant to take you to him.” Then she returned to typing.
Giddy with excitement, Wilbur nodded profusely. “Thank you, ma’am. Have a nice day.”
—----
“Tommy? Mr. Soot is here to see you.”
Wilbur stood behind the assistant nervously. The young man, a couple years younger than Wilbur, was blocking him, making him unable to come into Tommy’s view.
“Mr. Soot? I don’t know a Mr. Soot.”
Wilbur’s heart sank.
“I see. It might be a mistake.” The assistant turned around. “Are you sure this is the right one? You do know there is a large number of Tommy’s here.”
“Yes, yes I’m sure. Just please- let me-”
Wilbur pushed against the man desperately, but he was pushed back. “Sir, you have to know Tommy doesn’t have company often. If he doesn’t know you then you shouldn’t be invading.”
“Yes, yes but I just saw him yesterday!” Wilbur exclaimed. “I- please, mate, I just-”
“Wait.”
Wilbur’s ears perked up at Tommy’s voice. A sweet voice, that gave him enough strength to make a final, forceful push past the man blocking him and rushed into Tommy’s room. Brown eyes locked on blue, Tommy smiled and Wilbur smiled back.
“Guitar boy! So nice to meet you again!”
The assistant just stood there, baffled. Wilbur lifted up his chin proudly. “Now will you let me visit him?”
“Of course, my apologies,” he stammered. Then, he awkwardly walked away.
“Stars, these people are so formal. I always feel like I’m on some business trip!” Tommy started.
Wilbur laughed.
“How did you find me again? I mean- how did they know? Nobody ever visits me. I’m the last person they would have expected a visit for.”
Wilbur almost wanted to cry at that. Who would ever hold back from giving this boy at least a little attention? “I told them you are British and enjoy swearing.”
Tommy laughed this time. That same laugh that made Wilbur’s heart flutter and fly away.
“By the way,” he said as he tried to regain his breath. His eyes drifted to the guitar case in Wilbur’s hand. “You are a really good musician. Have you ever thought of releasing music before?”
Wilbur tugged at the button of his trench coat. “Well, I have thought about it before, but I’m just a little too nervous. One day, though, I’d like to release Your City Gave Me Asthma and maybe start a band too.”
“‘Your City Gave Me Asthma?’”
“Yea, the album I played for you yesterday.”
“Oh,” Tommy’s face grew dream-like. “I liked that one. It’s very soothing, but the lyrics are something you can cry to.”
Ah so he’s philosophical too? Wilbur’s eyes fell to his guitar. Perhaps if I do release it I will quote him on that, he noted affectionately.
“And a band?” the boy continued excitedly. “That would be so sick, mate! What kind of band?”
“Oh, maybe rock. Indie rock. Not sure yet.”
“That’s so cool! Indie is my favorite!”
Wilbur tried not to squeal at the childlike wonder. “Yeah, only thing is, I hate the electric guitar.”
“Why? I think it’s cool. Bam bam bam bam bam,” Tommy imitated as he played an air guitar. “S’alright. At least you can sing and make lyrics. Someone else could do the electric part for you.”
“Not a bad idea…” Wilbur replied thoughtfully.
“So,” he kicked his feet again. This boy just wouldn’t stop talking, right? “Are you gonna play for me again? Or do you just wanna chat?”
“What do you want?”
Tommy dramatically put a finger to his chin, tilting his head and looking up to the ceiling in thought. An actor, like me.
“IIII think I’d like to get to know you more.”
Wilbur choked up an awwe. “What do you want to know?”
“Everything! Shoot, I don’t even know your name.”
“I know yours,” Wilbur snickered. “Tomathy.”
The name made Tommy flush, eyes growing. “Don’t call me that!” he laughed. “I hate that name. Just Tommy!”
“Okay, Toms.”
His face turned redder. “No, just Tommy is fine.”
“Alright, sunshine.” Where did all these pet names come from? They just seemed to spill over Wilbur’s lips like nature.
Tommy bent his head to hide his face, vigorously ruffling his hair, making it more messy. Wilbur tried hard not to be endeared, but failed, releasing the most quiet coo.
“Stop it,” he heard Tommy say through a wide smile.
“Okay,” Wilbur chuckled. “I don’t want you dying of embarrassment. Are you embarrassed, Tommy? Is that what it is?”
“Your name is Soot, right?” He looked back up. “‘Soot.’ Pfft. Sounds like you’re an old maid or something.”
“Okay, young man, now you have to stop.”
“I told you! I’m not young, I’m seventeen! Almost an adult!”
Cute. “Alright then, big man.”
“Better. What’s your first name?”
“Wilbur.”
“Okay. I’m calling you Wilby Scoot then.”
Another laugh between the two. But Wilbur couldn’t help but melt at the name “Wilby.”
“Fine then,” he gave up. “Then you’ll have to let me call you sunshine.”
A spark of life flashed in Tommy’s eyes. Wilbur wasn’t quite sure what it was. Nevertheless, Tommy looked happy and flushed every time he heard that name.
“No one has ever called me that, before,” he mumbled.
“Well, they should more often, sunshine. Because it’s true. You light up the room with your smile, and your hair seems to reflect the golden sun.”
Tommy reached over and bumped his head against Wilbur’s chest, and Wilbur got a better look at the hair in the daylight. Marigold hair tangled and thinned. Dry. Wilbur’s heart could have stopped for a second before ignoring it for the sake of his sanity.
Tommy’s head shifted. “You really don’t get it, do you?”
—----
That day, Wilbur played more songs for Tommy. This time, Tommy was less shy and requested more songs from him. It seems like he really liked Animal Crossing and Wii music. When Wilbur played the Able Sisters on his guitar, Tommy made a fun, squeaky “doo doo doo” sound with the melody. He bit his lip to once again contain his endearment.
“I wanna be a streamer one day. I like playing Minecraft the most.”
“Me too.” Wilbur finished the track and turned off his phone that was displaying the chords. “Survival or creative?”
“Hardcore!” He made an evil grin. “I’m not soft! I can handle it!”
“I like creative. It’s peaceful and I can build without stupid creepers destroying everything.”
“Weakling!” Tommy poked Wilbur, which led him to yelp. “I’m gonna force you to play hardcore one day with me.”
Wilbur gave a tiny whine, but complied.
“Come on, do you have games on your phone?”
“What?” Wilbur was surprised by the sudden familiarity Tommy treated him by. He asked him for his phone as if he was his sibling. As if he takes his phone regularly. “Well, not much.”
“Can I download some?”
“What the- just play your own phone!”
“Playing other people’s phones is more fun,” Tommy said with his toothy grin again. Wilbur melted and gave up, handing his phone over. “Alright. Just don’t download a virus or something.”
As Wilbur handed his phone over, Tommy’s small hand briefly brushed against his, sending a tingle up his arm. He shook off the feeling, and went back to fiddling with his guitar.
—----
That day on the way home, Wilbur stopped by his favorite clothing store. He heard there was a sale and wanted to check it out. As he roamed through, he found a yellow sweater he liked. After checking the price, he decided he’d been needing a new sweater for the upcoming winter anyway. Right as he was about to walk up to the register, a flash of teal caught his eye. He went back and pulled the sweater out of the clothes rack.
The sweater was fun with doodles and a scribbled phrase, “Club Sunday.” It made Wilbur feel happy, but after thinking about it he decided teal wasn’t his color.
He was about to put it back when he saw the blue-green tint against the golden-yellow of his sweater. The colors complimented each other perfectly. He turned, and a random blond-haired child ran into the store with his mother, giggling and sprinting to the kids section, the mother calling after him.
A smile grew on Wilbur’s face.
—----
“Huh. Never saw you purchase teal before, Wilbur.”
Karl, the store owner, furrowed his eyebrows as he rang up the register. “Sixty dollars.”
“Sixty?” Wilbur’s mouth dropped. “I thought things were on sale today!”
“Oh no, not the teal one. That one is a brand name and is excluded from the sale. Do you still want it?” The dusty-blond man grabbed the sweater. “I can put it back for you.”
“No!” Wilbur blurted without thought. “I’ll pay for it.”
The owner raised an eyebrow, and slowly pushed it back to Wilbur, who grabbed it protectively. He looked down at his yellow sweater. “You can take back the yellow one instead.”
Karl, who knew Wilbur as a regular customer, grew a confused look on his face. “I thought yellow was your favorite color, Wil. Is it not anymore?”
Wilbur smiled distantly as he looked down on the sweater, the fun personality of the font echoing Tommy’s laughter. He then remembered the boy burrowing his face into his shoulder, and blushed, embarrassed at his own softness, while the blue shade of the sweater reminded him of Tommy’s wonderful bright eyes.
“Blue is quite breathtaking, innit?”
—----
“Ohhhh Tommyyyy~”
Wilbur took a step into Tommy’s room, a wide smile on his face as he held a gift bag behind his back. Tommy was sitting up in his bed, the TV playing in the background. When he heard Wilbur’s voice he turned around curiously.
“Look what I have!” Wilbur held out the gift. “It’s for you!”
Tommy’s eyes grew wide, as if he couldn’t imagine anyone caring to give him anything. Wilbur handed the gift to him as he rushed to open the bag, throwing gift tissue all over the place.
“Woah, slow down, man!”
The boy gasped as he lifted up the sweater, hiding his face into it, messy curls spreading out like a blooming flower. Wilbur let out a coo, but Tommy didn’t mind. Wilbur knew Tommy needed a new shirt. One to replace the old red and white baseball shirt he was wearing.
“It’s so.. soft.”
“I saw it in the store and I thought you’d like it.”
When Tommy raised his face from the cozy sweater, his eyes were filled with tears. “Thank you so much, man. I-I don’t deserve this.”
That made Wilbur’s heart break. “Oh, no no, Toms.” He cupped Tommy’s face with his hand, and Tommy melted right into it. “You are so wonderful- I saw it and knew it was perfect for you.”
Tommy hummed as he smiled, cheek still in the comforting hand. Before Wilbur knew it, Tommy pulled his waist and held him close. He began sobbing, making Wilbur panic. What did he do? How could he stop this? He couldn’t bear to see the sunny child crying.
“Sunshine, what’s wrong?” he ran his fingers through his hair. His hand stopped, feeling a messy bunch of hair strands following him oddly. Wilbur lifted up his hand, and pure dread filled him as a handful of hair was woven between his hands. Tommy’s hair was falling, like a dog shedding.
Tommy continued to sob, his cries drowning in hiccups.
“Tommy,” Wilbur whispered gently. “Is this what you’ve been trying to tell me?”
He nodded into his shirt, his hair getting caught in Wilbur’s sweater.
“Oh, love.” Wilbur wrapped Tommy in his arms. All of a sudden, he seemed so small, so fragile. No wonder he tried to sound so mature and big. He was trying to deny that, deep inside, he was so deadly ill.
“Shh.. it’s okay, dear,” he continued, rubbing his back instead to preserve the beautiful curls. Tommy pressed himself further, but he found himself nearly falling off his bed. So instead, he pulled Wilbur in, Wilbur falling into a pile of embraces as he laid on the hospital bed. Wilbur curled himself around Tommy, as if that could protect him from the evils of the world. Tommy nestled his head into Wilbur’s neck, and a rush of love filled him when he saw how perfectly the small head fit into his long neck.
“How about I sing to you? Is that okay, dear?”
Tommy gave a tiny and weak, “Mhm.”
Wilbur took a deep breath, burying his face into Tommy’s hair.
“Blackbird singing in the dead of night,
Take these broken wings and learn to fly
All your life
You were only waiting for this moment to arise.”
Tears escaped Wilbur’s eyes, but he ignored them, continuing the song.
“Blackbird singing in the dead of night,
Take these sunken eyes and learn to see
All your life
You were only waiting for this moment to be free.”
He felt Tommy’s breathing grow slower beneath him as he began falling into a deep sleep. Before Tommy would go unconscious, Wilbur swept a stray strand of hair from the boy’s face, and pressed a kiss to his forehead. A small smile crept up on Tommy’s face, and the child slept.
—----
Slowly and gradually, Tommy woke up again in Wilbur’s arms after an hour of sleep. Wilbur felt him shifting around to get more comfortable. The child’s breathing grew more peaceful, content. Wilbur felt it too. That clingy self inside of him that had been screaming to cuddle with Tommy was finally hushed. After another minute of shifting, Tommy looked up at Wilbur with eyes refreshed from a good sleep.
“Morning, love,” Wilbur greeted gently. “How was your nap?”
“Good.”
“Do you want to watch something on the TV or something?”
Tommy nodded.
“Okay, what do you want to watch, dear?”
“I don’t know,” he answered. “Depends what’s on.”
“I see. Well I turn it on and see what they have, okay?”
“Mhm.”
Wilbur turned on the TV and surfed through a couple channels, when he landed on the movie Up playing. At the immediate sound of the theme, Tommy turned around, just to see the TV but not leaving Wilbur’s arms.
“Up! That’s my favorite!”
Wilbur moaned. “I hate Disney movies…”
“What? You don’t like Disney?” Tommy asked unbelievably, craning his neck towards Wilbur again. He smiled a mischievous smile. “I’m gonna force you to watch it then.”
“Aww Tommy, pleaseee don’t,” Wilbur whined jokingly.
Tommy twisted back to the movie. “Either we watch Up, or I’m leaving your arms.”
Wilbur would have laughed at that moment and tugged Tommy closer. But he was too busy paying attention to the sadness behind those words. It sounded like Tommy really didn’t want to leave his embrace. He just said it to bribe him, but he still really wanted to snuggle with him. This left Wilbur confused and concerned, so he wrapped his hands around Tommy’s hands.
Tommy perked up for a second, then tucked his chin in as he let Wilbur rub his arms. He looked like he was drinking in something he had lacked for so long. Something he had been longing for but retained from.
“Thank you,” he breathed.
“For what?” Wilbur cocked his head to the side.
Tommy didn’t respond. Instead, he turned his face up to face Wilbur in an upside-down position. Wilbur saw it in his eyes. His breathing faltered.
“Darling. You’re- touch-starved!”
Tommy knitted his eyebrows. “What does that mean?”
“It means, my dear, that you are in serious need of a kiss.”
And with that, Wilbur bent down and pressed trembling lips against the child’s forehead. He pulled back, and Tommy’s curious eyes blinked, startled.
At first, Wilbur panicked at this. He was afraid he acted too soon and made him uncomfortable. He forgot that last time he kissed Tommy he was half-asleep, and probably had very little idea of what was going on. Now that Tommy was fully conscious, he expected him to retaliate. But instead, he got a different reaction.
“Can- can you do that again?”
Wilbur melted more than he ever had before. He gushed uncontrollably, out of sorrow and out of love. “Of course dear, of course. Just ask anything and I will give it to you.”
“Okay,” Tommy replied in a straight voice. “Then do it again, rat-head.”
He lowered his head and gave Tommy another beautiful, warm kiss. Now Wilbur’s clingy instinct was silenced. Wilbur had done his job. He had fulfilled his purpose. He found this touch-starved child that somehow belonged to him in an unexplainable way, like a platonic soulmate or whatever sappy thing people talked about. Not only had he found him, but he filled in that empty space between the need for physical affection and the lack of anyone giving it to him. He now understood why he felt drawn to the child like a magnet. Why everytime their knees knocked his bones tingled. Why everytime Tommy rested his head on his shoulder he lost all senses. Tommy needed him, and his spirit knew it. That might have been why he accepted to play in the hospital in the first place. Why he broke the nurse’s advice and entered Tommy’s room like he had the unspoken permission to. He had been looking for something he never knew he lost. Wilbur and Tommy’s hearts were tied by something invisible, and Wilbur had no idea what it was. He never knew this kid before, but it felt like they had been friends forever.
He was complete. Whole. He found his other half.
And Wilbur liked that.
—----
Wilbur became such a regular visitor that the hospital staff eventually allowed him to walk straight in and go see Tommy whenever he came. He spent hours in the hospital, sitting beside Tommy and watching something on TV or his phone. Sometimes, when Tommy felt well enough, they took walks. As Wilbur got to talk more with Tommy, he grew more and more fond. Together under the sun they laughed, sang, and played like they’d been doing so for years. The pet names became more common (which Tommy acted like he hated), and so did the hugs.
It was one day when Wilbur was holding Tommy tightly in his arms while watching a movie that he remembered that things aren’t all rosy and pink as he thought before. Tommy was nestled in those arms, his head resting against Wilbur as the older toppled his chin over the younger. Wilbur was watching the movie intently, but Tommy kept one ear out for the hallway.
“Puffy? Do you have a moment? The doc needs to talk to you.”
“Yeah, one moment. I need to give Tommy his meds.”
At that moment, Tommy tensed from beneath Wilbur. Confused, Wilbur squeezed Tommy to tell him he was okay, but Tommy wriggled out.
“Shoot. Get off! Get off!” he hissed, hurting Wilbur momentarily. Tommy saw he didn’t understand the message, so he began pushing him off. His face was serious. “Quick! Before they see you!”
Wilbur followed his commands, even though his brain was still processing the sudden change. He got off the bed and went back to his chair. Tommy frantically smoothed his hair to hide any evidence of snuggling.
Right at that moment, a nurse with long, dyed hair walked in with a variety of needles in hand.
“Hi Tommy!”
“Hey Puffy.”
“It’s time for your supplements,” she told him as she walked to the other side of the room. “Are you ready?”
Wilbur saw the slight fear in Tommy’s eyes, and he ached when he realized what the boy would have to go through. He stood up, kneeling beside Tommy’s bed.
“Oh, Puffy!” Tommy excitedly commented when Wilbur joined him. “By the way, this is Wilby- uh I mean Wilbur.”
Wilbur stifled a laugh and Tommy slapped him lightly in the face.
“Nice to meet you, Wilbur!” The enthusiastic nurse shook his hand. “I’ve heard so much about you.”
“You have?”
“Yup. Tommy talks constantly about you. It’s great to finally meet you!”
Amazed, Wilbur faced Tommy. “Is that true?”
Tommy had the smallest blush as he smiled and looked down. “Yeah.. kinda.”
“I have to say though, Wilbur,” Puffy continued, not even catching the child’s embarrassment. “I cannot thank you enough.”
“Oh, ma’am I can’t thank anyone here enough for letting me see him,” Wilbur stammered.
“I really mean it though,” the nurse’s voice grew solemn. “You have no idea.”
“Well, glad I could help, I guess?”
Puffy gave an amused grin as she hummed and prepped the needles opposite from Wilbur. After a few swift movements, she held one IV in her hand.
“Okay Tommy, you ready?”
Tommy froze, pulling his arms inside his teal sweater. He shook his head, eyes wide.
“What’s wrong? You’ve done this so many times.”
“And I hate every one,” he mumbled admittedly.
“Don’t worry. Just keep yourself distracted while I do it, and it’ll be done before you know it.”
Hesitantly, Tommy slipped his sweater off so he was just wearing his red shirt.
“There ya go. Just watch the TV now.”
Tommy winced as Puffy poked the needle into his arm. Right at that second, Wilbur sympathized with him, and gracefully lifted up the hand on his side.
“You’re doing so well, Toms,” he whispered, closing his eyes as he gave a slow kiss to his knuckles. Tommy melted, his eyes fluttering shut, a content smile growing, and head tilted to the side. He seemed as if he completely forgot what was going on with his other arm. Wilbur spread out his fingers and Tommy did the same. He guided Tommy’s hand as he held it up in front of their faces. Wilbur brought himself closer, so that it felt like it was only him, Tommy, and their hands pressed against each other.
“Look at your hand,” Wilbur cooed. “It’s so small.”
“Well your fingers are so flying long,” Tommy spat jokingly.
“Tommy!” Puffy scolded lightly. “Don’t be so rude!”
Wilbur laughed and Tommy stuck his tongue out at him.
“Don’t worry, ma’am,” Wilbur explained. “Tommy and I are always mean to each other.”
Puffy chuckled quietly. “You two are so much like siblings,” she said to herself.
“We are kind of like that, aren’t we sunshine?” Wilbur realized in awe. “And we’re not even related by blood.”
“Shut uuuup,” Tommy whined. He always felt flustered in sweet moments.
“Awe lookie here. My wittle Tommy is all embarrassed again. Are you embarrassed of your big brother, Tommy?” Wilbur spoke to him as if he was a baby.
Tommy’s face grew so red, like a rose. “Wilby Scoot, stop itttt.”
“My little Tommy. Tommy Tommy Tommy.” Wilbur’s voice grew higher and higher in pitch. He glanced up at Puffy, who just finished giving the IV. She bandaged Tommy and cleaned her station up.
“All done, Tommy! This is the best you’ve done.”
“Stupid Wilbur,” he grumbled.
“Tommy, you know, you could have just gone through this alone and suffered.”
“She’s right, dear,” Wilbur ruffled his hair until he remembered to be gentle with the falling curls. He transitioned to a pat on the head.
“Well, I have to go. It was wonderful meeting you, Wilbur.” The friendly acquaintance gathered her things.
“Great to meet you too!” he waved as she walked out, shutting the door.
Once they were alone again, Tommy groaned.
“Willlllby why did you have to do that in front of her?”
Wilbur released his palm from pressing against Tommy’s, which he just realized was still there. “What, do you want me to sit there and let you scrunch your nose in pain?”
“Yes.” Then, immediately regretting it, “No.”
“That’s what I thought.”
“Shut up. Just cuddle with me again.”
At the sheer bluntness of Tommy’s command, Wilbur short-circuited before standing up. He began to wonder why Tommy shooed him in the first place. But before his thoughts could go any deeper, Tommy pulled him by the shirt, and he yelped. The younger then giggled as Wilbur toppled over him, rolling into an embrace. Then the two stayed laying there, one clutching the other as if he were a tiny golden teddy bear.
—----
There was one cloudy day when Wilbur came at a different time.
He woke up early that morning. It was the weekend, he didn’t have work, and his prior commitments were canceled. He decided it would be a great time to see Tommy. Maybe the child would be excited to see he came earlier today and would have more time to spend with him. Just that thought in mind kept Wilbur going as he promptly got dressed, took a quick sip of tea (not coffee you Americans), and drove out.
He arrived at the hospital, practically running to see his favorite person.
Up the first flight of steps and up the second. Through the hallway and through the double-doors.
Wilbur made sure to walk in the medical ward, just so he wouldn’t cause a disturbance. But that doesn’t mean he didn’t walk fast.
Finally he made it to Tommy’s room. The door was closed, and he swiftly opened it.
“Heyyy king! How’s my best friend?”
Then Wilbur froze. There was no sign of Tommy anywhere.
Panic settled in. What happened? Where was Tommy? Was he alright?
In blind worry, Wilbur turned around in a fast swerve, bumping and knocking down a kid.
“Shoot!”
He grabbed the kid who was falling backwards, startled. The boy quickly recovered and stood on his feet again.
“Oh wait, you’re not a kid.”
The boy was wearing a scrub, and had a nametag. He was surely young, but it seems like he is one of the staff. His soft brown hair seemed a little frazzled from the fall, but after the boy shook his head, it returned to normal.
Something about looking at the kid reminded him of Tommy. Perhaps they were the same age?
“Can- can I help you?” the boy asked shyly.
“Um- yeah. Have you seen Tommy by chance? He’s usually in this room. You know, Tommy Simons?”
Recognition lighted up the boy’s brown eyes. “Oh! Tommy! Yeah, I’m friends with him. Well, I mean, I befriended him since I started working here. But yeah, you looking for him?”
“Yes, yes. Have you seen him?”
The boy’s face fell slightly. “You don’t know?”
“Know? Know what?” Wilbur’s breathing grew faster.
“He’s in treatment right now. It’ll take all morning.”
A flood of relief washed over Wilbur. Oh, thank goodness. He thought something terrible happened to him.
“Okay thanks! Do you know when he’ll be done? I’ve been wanting to hang out with him a little.”
The boy- or, “Tubbo,” according to the nametag- blinked at Wilbur.
“No, no you don’t get it, sir. After treatment, Tommy will be very exhausted. Have you not seen him go through it before?”
“Go through it before? You mean this isn’t his first time?”
Tubbo counted his fingers for a second. “I think this must be his fifth time. I’ve lost track. But around that.”
Sorrow filled Wilbur as he thought about his poor Tommy, going through so much treatment and never getting better. Fifth time? Stars that’s a lot.
“And so I recommend you skip seeing him today,” Tubbo advised. “Or, if you do choose to visit him, expect him to be napping.”
“Thank you,” Wilbur nodded politely. “Tubbo?”
Tubbo nodded. “Yup. And I guess you must be Wilbur.”
“How do you know my name?” Wilbur’s eyebrows raised.
Tubbo chuckled- a familiar chuckle. Filled with fondness. Perhaps like Wilbur’s when he thinks of Tommy. Wilbur was glad to see someone else who loved Tommy.
“Tommy talks all about me doesn’t he?”
The boy nodded, his brown locks flying.
“What are you doing here working? You seem so young. How old are you?”
“I’m eighteen. I think I might want to be a doctor one day, but I’m not sure yet. So I’m working here until I decide.”
“You’ll be a wonderful doctor. It looks like you really care about Tommy,” Wilbur complimented gratefully.
“Thank you,” Tubbo smiled. “I guess I have to go on now. It was nice chatting, Wilbur!”
Wilbur answered in agreement and went separate ways. Where was he going now? Somewhere. Somewhere, where he could get his mind off Tommy. Just anywhere. His stomach rumbled. Okay, maybe it’s time for breakfast.
—----
The food options glared at Wilbur, almost rushing him to make a decision. He sat at the food bar, plate in hand, to scoop up whatever he wanted. All he could think about was Tommy, and his appetite just wasn’t there. He sighed, putting up the empty plate with the dirty dishes and walking away, head hung down.
Crash! and the thump of food falling on the ground. He heard the voice of a quiet woman.
“I’m so sorry! Please forgive me!”
Before him, a woman with black hair and blond streaks crouched over the floor, picking up as many bread rolls as she could. Wilbur bent down too to help her.
“No, I’m sorry I bumped into you,” he apologized. “I should have been paying attention.”
He saw the woman was stuck holding a huge tray in one hand and the fallen rolls in another. He offered his open hand. “Here, let me throw those away for you.”
Because she absolutely had no other option, the woman gave the rolls to Wilbur. Wilbur went to throw them away, and returned to her as she wiped her sticky hand on her apron.
“Again, I’m so, so sorry-” she repeated.
“No, please, ma’am. It’s not your fault.”
The woman looked back at Wilbur with sparkling blue eyes. Like Tommy’s, Wilbur thought. She smiled. “Thank you, sir.”
Wilbur held out a hand to shake. “Wilbur.”
She nodded and returned the shake. “Niki.”
—----
Wilbur sat in the dining area for a long time, staring out the window. He stared down at the park where he and Tommy liked to walk. He remembered how sometimes, he would start chasing Tommy, threatening to tickle him. Of course, Tommy was a little weak from being sick, so Wilbur would always catch up and throw himself at him, both falling as he attacked him with tickles and kisses. A pang of longing hit Wilbur, not because he was missing him for the past hour, but because he wondered what their fate would be. Would Tommy get better or would he get sicker? Would he lose his beautiful curls or get to keep them all as he deserves? Would he go home to his parents? If he did, would that mean Wilbur would never get to see him again?
Then his thoughts paused. His parents. Wilbur never met his parents before.
Wilbur almost jumped as a plate of food landed right beside him. He turned around to see Niki looking right at him.
“I.. saw you didn’t get any food. So I brought some to you. Are you doing alright?” Worry was painted all across her face.
Wilbur gave a fake nod. “Mhm. I’m good.” He looked at the food. “Thank you so much,” he breathed. “I almost forgot to eat.”
“Then you’re not alright,” Niki countered. “If you’re forgetting to eat, I mean.” She sat down in the chair across from him. Wilbur was surprised at the sudden willingness of the woman to help him. He didn’t even know her yet she treated him like a friend. “Is something bothering you?”
Wilbur took a deep breath. He could trust Niki for some reason. “Yeah. Do you know Tommy? Tommy Simons?”
A light of joy entered Niki’s face. “Oh yes. The infamous Tommy. Gotta love the kid, right?”
Wilbur chucked happily. “Yeah. I probably love him a little too much.”
“Of course,” Niki replied understandingly. “He’s so loveable, I don’t even know why his parents left him.”
Wilbur’s heart dropped. “Wh- what?”
Then panic filled Niki’s face. “Oh, no. You didn’t know? I shouldn’t have mentioned it, I-”
“No, it’s fine,” Wilbur comforted. “You didn’t know that I didn’t know.” His eyes drifted back to the park. Tommy’s parents left him? No wonder he hasn’t heard anything about them. No wonder he was so touch-starved and affection-starved. No wonder he clung to Wilbur like family. No wonder…
“How did he get here then?” His voice was hollow and distant.
“Tommy came here with his parents. He was very ill when he first came and the hospital decided to have him stay here. His parents then didn’t want to pay for all that money, so they just left one day and never came back. We tried calling, but there was no answer. We assumed they must have abandoned him. Soon after, we got the papers that they had orphaned him and taken him off their family. We couldn’t bring ourselves to let go of him, so we just kept him, using his health as a reason.”
Wilbur could barely breathe. How? Who would ever dump sweet, loving Tommy? His sunshine? His little Toms?
“So.. who pays for him?”
“His doctor does. He couldn’t stand not being able to help Tommy just because of the cost. So everything he pays for himself.”
Wow. Turns out, so many people here loved Tommy more than Wilbur first assumed. His heart felt warm with the fact that Tommy had been surrounded by such caring hands. He felt proud of Tommy, for staying strong for so long. No wonder he broke down with Wilbur. Poor child must be tired of fighting for so long, emotionally and physically.
“Thank you..”
“For what?” Niki’s eyebrows furrowed.
“For.. everything. All you do for him.”
—----
Wilbur made his way back into the medical ward, hands in the pockets of his trench coat. He hung his head down again and used muscle memory to find his way back to Tommy’s room. He figured he could wait there and Tommy would be back anytime soon.
He heard footsteps down the empty hallway and looked up.
There, far off, was Tommy, walking slowly and hunched. Exhausted and fatigued.
“Tommy!”
It felt like an hour before he reached Tommy, though he was running as fast as he could. He finally reached the limping child and allowed him to crash into his arms. Wilbur had to catch his breath as Tommy put his full weight on him.
“Get.. off,” he slurred. “I can walk myself. I’m a big.. man…”
“Oh Tommy,” Wilbur whispered into his ear as he picked him up. Tommy fought weakly as he cradled him like a baby. “Let’s go back to your room, okay?”
“I can walk, Wil,” he protested weakly as his head rested on Wilbur’s shoulder.
“No you can’t. Look at you.”
Tommy gave a tiny whine as Wilbur continued walking. They reached his room, and he laid Tommy down on his bed, where the boy fell into an instant sleep. Wilbur gave a quick nuzzle, murmuring a soft goodnight before taking a seat.
He decided he will stay with Tommy, no matter how long it took for him to wake up again.
—----
Hours passed and the sun went down after a painful long day. There was no light left except for the faint beam of the lamp. Wilbur’s stomach growled from time to time, but he was afraid to get up, in case Tommy might wake up while he was gone.
He began to believe Tommy might end up sleeping the whole night too. Wilbur sighed, laying his book down and picking up his guitar. He strummed in the air, so as to not wake the child. Listening to the chords in his head, he pictured a time when Tommy would be well again. He pictured a happy Tommy, a joyful one. Smiling and laughing at anything, perhaps something as simple as wearing his glasses, or leaving toys in his office. He imagined him and Tommy watching movies in his flat back in Brighton, maybe playing some Minecraft and griefing each other. He imagined Tommy becoming a successful streamer, just as he dreamed of doing. He imagined Tommy being the number one fan of the band he might start, maybe screaming his lyrics 24/7 as his little head bobbed to every beat, his hair healthy and bouncing along.
It was all so painfully real that Wilbur believed, maybe, just maybe, in some alternate universe that was true.
But whatever it was, he hated whatever Tommy had to go through at the moment. He just wished that he could take it all away from him. Tommy never deserved this.
Wilbur was snapped back to his current reality when he heard the sound of bedsheets shifting. He looked up from his guitar and saw Tommy looking right at him with fully awake eyes.
“Wilbur?”
“Good morning, king.”
“Wh- why are you here?”
Wilbur settled his guitar down beside him and walked over to Tommy. “Because I wanted to be with you.”
“Why would you want to be with me? I’m sleeping.”
“I wanted to be there when you wake up.” He reached out a hand and intertwined his fingers with Tommy’s.
Tommy groaned. “I’m sorry for making you wait. I didn’t know.”
“Shh. It’s okay, dear. What matters is that you got a good rest, right?” Wilbur yawned. Perhaps now he needed a rest.
“I’m still sleepy though,” Tommy rubbed his eyes with the hand holding Wilbur’s. “I think I’m gonna go back to sleep.”
Wilbur made a slight pouting face. “Already?”
“Mhm,” the child closed his eyes again, his eyelids squinting. “But I don’t wanna sleep alone, Wilbur.”
Wilbur understood what he was trying to tell him. “Of course, love.”
He crawled into the bed with Tommy, who seemed so small to him. Wrapping his arms around him, he pulled him closer. Tommy tucked his head in Wilbur’s neck, and Wilbur rested his face in Tommy’s hair, breathing in the cotton-like smell. Tommy’s small hand clutched at Wilbur’s yellow sweater and attempted to pull him impossibly closer, before fatigue overtook him again and he fell into another deep sleep.
Then, in the middle of the night, a doctor with blond hair wrapped in a ponytail checked on his patient. And seeing him cuddled with another person from outside, he melted at first, but then realized the risk.
“Shoot,” he cursed silently, before walking off.
—----
“Uno!”
“Noooo you cheated!”
“How the fly is that cheating? I literally followed every rule.”
“Yeah but my deck had nothing good. You must have done something when you were dealing those cards.”
“Tommy, I won fair and square. If you think I cheated, why don’t you deal the cards next time?”
“Fine then, I will.”
Wilbur watched Tommy with a fond smile on his face as the child fumed while shuffling the cards. Their friendly competition was so domestic, so silly, that Wilbur felt like Tommy was really his own family.
Oh how he wished he could just scoop the boy up and take him home. Take him home where he’ll never have to see another needle again or a hospital bed.
But that would never be possible. He couldn’t take Tommy home.
Unless…
“Okay!” Tommy slapped his hand on the bed. “Now let’s see who’s gonna win. I bet I’m gonna win, cheater.”
“Oh it’s on!” Wilbur put his competitive game face on, changing the topic in his head. That wouldn’t mean he would forget his idea though.
“‘Look at me! I’m Wilbur Soot!’” Tommy mocked in a higher pitched voice. “‘I never lie! I’m a good person! I have a good heart!’”
“Awwee you really think that, Tommy?” he cooed.
“Pfft. Of course not. You’re the worst person I know, Willy Soot.”
“That’s a new one. I guess I’m a whale now?”
“Huh?” Tommy tilted his head to the side, which Wilbur always thought was so adorable.
“You know, Free Willy. The movie.”
“Oh. Never heard of it.”
“That’s because all you watch is Disney.” Wilbur scrunched his nose. “Who put you on the planet. Ugh.”
“Is that from flying Spongebob??” Tommy exclaimed. “You think you’re soooo funny.”
“And I come up with the best pet names too,” Wilbur sang as he landed his head on Tommy’s lap, looking up at him. “Come on. You know you love me.”
“Oh now you’re just quoting Zootopia. What’s next? Frozen?”
Wilbur frowned. “Tommy, I wasn’t quoting that time.”
The boy’s face flushed. “Oh.”
The older one giggled. “You’re so stupid. I love you Tommy.”
Tommy sat there, gazing into Wilbur’s deep brown eyes for the longest time. A soft, mushy smile snuck up on his face, which was growing redder than ever. He looked away to avoid eye contact.
“Yeah, yeah. I guess I love you too, Wilbur Soot.”
—----
These. These were the domestic moments Wilbur longed for. Hopefully for the rest of his life. If he could just ask..
“Hey Puffy?”
The rainbow-haired nurse turned around, raising an eyebrow in curiosity. “Yes?”
“Do you have a moment?”
“Um. Sure, I mean, I’m on my lunch break.”
“I wanted to ask something about Tommy.”
The background noise of the dining room seemed to drown out as Puffy gave him her full attention.
“Yes?”
“Well, I heard from Niki- the chef over there,” he pointed his head towards the kind woman working behind the food bar. “That Tommy was, well. His parents..”
Puffy nodded knowingly. “Yes. And you wanted to ask…”
“Well, Puffy. I wanted to know if there’s any way I could.. adopt.. Tommy?” His voice drifted off in hesitancy as he drummed his fingers on the table.
The nurse’s eyes lit up. She gasped. “You- you really want to do that?”
Wilbur blushed. “I mean- if it’s not possible, I don’t have to. I- I just couldn’t stand seeing him like this anymore.”
“No no no. It’s wonderful!” Puffy’s eyes watered with joy. “I just can’t believe someone is actually asking to do that for him!” Her face grew serious. “But.. why? Why would you do that? Especially when there are so many more healthy children in the orphanage you could pick?”
At that, Wilbur cried. “Why not? I love him so much. Why wouldn’t I? Why would I choose someone else? To spend the rest of my life tied to if I didn’t know and love them? I don’t care if he’s not in perfect condition right now. He makes my heart sing in ways it never has before. He makes me laugh in ways I never have before. He makes me love in ways I never have before. Puffy, Puffy, I would give up the world for him. Pull down the sun, moon, and the stars for him if it would make him better. Just anything to see his beautiful ocean blue eyes light up the way they do when I make a witty joke or when he just sees my face. And if my heart is this closely tied to Tommy’s, I can’t bear to think he will be alone in an orphanage when he gets better. I can’t bear to think he might end up in several foster homes before finding a true home. I can’t bear to think he might end up with a family that might not even treat him the way he should be treated. I can’t bear the fact I won’t be able to see him again after this is all over. I want to be his family. I want to be his guardian. I want to take him under my wings.”
Wilbur was breathing fast, trying to catch his breath after his speech. Puffy was looking back at him with the widest smile possible.
“Take him home. Please. Dr. Craft would be so, so elated to hear this.”
—----
And after that conversation, Puffy spoke with some people and told Wilbur that he would be allowed to take Tommy home if Tommy wanted to. He nearly shouted all across the hospital. The world was rosy and happy again. He forgot the times when Tommy had to get an IV or treatment. He forgot Tommy looking all fatigued and exhausted. He was suddenly filled with optimism, knowing for some reason that he would get better, and then he could spoil Tommy all he wanted.
Before visiting Tommy that day to ask him if he could adopt him, he went to get flowers. Wilbur wanted to pick marigolds, because they reminded him so much of his hair. Bright, yellow, sunny, and soft. But when he got there, he could hardly find any yellow flowers, let alone marigolds.
Wilbur walked all around the store, trying to find any trace of yellow among the pink, blue, and red. Finally he found a pot of yellow flowers. They weren’t marigolds, but they worked out.
Chrysanthemums, he thinks they were called.
Well, Wilbur didn’t know anything about flower meanings, but all he knew was that they were pretty.
—----
Wilbur walked in that day, bouncing in the room with flowers in his hands. A wide grin on his face, and the brightest eyes.
That grin was wiped away when he saw Tommy on the bed. And he did not look okay.
“Tommy?” His voice was deflated. Scared.
A man was standing over him. He had a white lab coat and a blond ponytail. He turned around, a look of concern in his blue eyes. Recognition grew on his face, and Wilbur wondered why. He had never met this man before.
“Hello, you must be Mr. Soot,” he greeted, shaking Wilbur’s trembling hand.
Wilbur nodded jerkily. “Yeah, you can call me Wilbur,” he answered awkwardly. How did he know who he was?
“You must be wondering how I know you,” the gentle man chucked, as if reading his mind. “I’ve seen you around Tommy several times before. He also constantly talks about you.”
“Oh.” A sappy smile grew on Wilbur’s face.
“I’m sorry. Where are my manners? I’m Dr. Craft, but you can just call me Dr. Philza. I hate it when people call me Dr. Craft- I feel like a craftsman,” he laughed.
Wilbur laughed too. Then his gaze went to Tommy, and he frowned again. “Is he alright?”
Dr. Philza took a deep breath. “He’s fine for this time. But- if you two keep this up, he won’t be fine for long.”
“What do you mean?”
“The cuddling, mate.” Dr. Philza’s voice was serious, but not condemning. “Did Tommy not tell you?”
“What’s cuddling got to do with it??” Wilbur was panicked and confused. Did he do something wrong?
“Wilbur,” the doctor’s eyes were sympathetic as he held Wilbur’s wrist. “With Tommy’s treatment, he will have a weak immune system. We told him he isn’t allowed to be close to outsiders for a while. Until he’s done. If he gets some outside viruses, no matter how tiny, he could get seriously ill.”
“I- I caused this?” Wilbur stared at the ground. Is that why Tommy always tried to hide the fact he was cuddling him? Deep breaths, now, Wilbur. Come on.
Oh why couldn’t he just keep his hands to himself? Why did he have to be so attached to Tommy? Why couldn’t he show his affection and care in some other way? He should have at least known to be careful! Tommy is weak because he’s sick, and he should have been more aware!
He felt comforting hands on his shoulders. A wave of calm washed over Wilbur, like he was in the hands of a forgiving father.
“It’s not your fault, Wilbur. You didn’t know. For now on, though, you’ll have to give Tommy some distance. Until he gets better.”
Wilbur’s lips quivered as he raised his eyes again. “Can I- Can I just- one more time, please?”
Philza looked back at Wilbur with a pained look on his face. “Okay. Just one more.”
Slowly, Wilbur pulled away from the doctor and stepped past him beside Tommy’s bed. Tommy was asleep, but he looked stressed. His eyebrows were furrowed and his face was scrunched. He was sweating, and Wilbur concluded he was suffering a horrible fever. His comforter instinct kicked in, and he fluffed the boy’s soft hair. Cupping his face, he bent down and pressed a kiss to his forehead. Then he pulled away, and took a step backwards.
Everything in Wilbur screamed, and he just couldn’t ignore it. He crashed onto Tommy, kissing him on the forehead hundreds of times, sobbing and pulling him into his embrace. He ran his fingers through his hair feverishly, but still careful not to wake the child.
“Wilbur,” Philza quietly interrupted.
Wilbur continued by kissing Tommy’s nose.
“Wil,” the voice was more stern. “That’s enough.”
“Quiet Phil!! I’m having a moment!!” he screamed like an angry son and his father. He had no idea where the nickname came from, but he pushed off the question.
Tommy, Tommy, Tommy. He wanted to hold Tommy. He wanted to kiss Tommy. He wanted to play with Tommy’s hair. Why couldn’t this cruel doctor let him? Why couldn’t he?
Below him, Tommy stirred. He groaned and opened his eyes.
“Wilby? Is.. everything okay?”
Wilbur’s voice suddenly changed and he hushed the child. “Of course, dear. Everything is fine. Wilby will take care of this.”
Tommy kissed Wilbur’s cheek, and Wilbur melted into fondness, forgetting his current concerns. He smiled, and nuzzled the boy’s cheek in return.
“Okay,” the small voice croaked sleepily, before closing his eyes again.
Then Wilbur was brought back to reality when he felt hands holding him at the side of his shoulders. They pried him away from Tommy, and Wilbur finally allowed them to.
“Oh stars,” Philza wiped his forehead with the back of his hand. “I hope that didn’t transfer anything.”
“Is that all you care about?” Wilbur’s eyes narrowed.
“What?”
“I don’t know. Flying viruses or germs or whatever you medical people talk about.” Wilbur threw his hands exasperated. He didn’t know what he was saying anymore. He has clearly lost his sanity.
“Wilbur. What I care about is Tommy’s health. We want him to get better. I want him to get better. You don’t think I love him too?”
“Then why is the little sunshine touch-starved??” Wilbur angrily backlashed.
“You think we wanted that, Wil?” Philza was losing his patience.
“I don’t know. But all I know is that the moment I first saw him, Phil,” Wilbur pointed an accusing finger at the doctor, stepping closer and staring at him eye-to-eye. “I knew he needed me. He doesn’t need you and your hospital staff and all your fancy treatments or whatever ratty stuff. He needs me. He can survive on my love alone. Haven’t you seen how happy he’s gotten recently? Everyone says he hates visitors, but I don’t see that.”
“Wilbur, we only said he doesn’t have visitors because he’s not supposed to see anyone. We let you be an exception because we trusted you. Now, I’m not so sure.”
Those words cut through Wilbur. What does he mean he can’t be trusted?? He was at least better than Tommy’s parents!
Wilbur scrunched his hand in a tight fist. But he didn’t pick up a fight. He knew, the longer he kept this up, he won’t be allowed to be Tommy’s guardian anymore. He shut his eyes.
One. Two..
“I’m sorry, Dr. Philza,” he finally responded after counting to probably a thousand. “I disrespected you and your medical team. I didn’t mean to say those things- I-” He teared up. “You have no idea how grateful I really am for you all. If it weren’t for you, Tommy would be in the orphanage or something. I don’t know. But I am so happy he is in such loving hands.”
Again, Philza laid a hand on his shoulder. “It’s alright mate. I get these things all the time. I know you love him, and that’s why you were so protective of him. I think you will be a wonderful guardian for him when he gets better. I can see it in your interactions together. Just wait for a couple more weeks, okay? And then Tommy will get better. You can take him home. And you can be together all you want.”
Wilbur sniffed, smiling through his tears. “I’ll still get to visit him right?” He was afraid he wouldn’t be able to not only because Tommy needed to be safe, but also because of the way he just lashed out.
Philza smiled back warmly. “Of course. If anything, you help him get better. I’ve seen so much improvement in his health since you showed up in his life.”
“Thank you,” Wilbur whispered, knocking his head on Philza’s chest without knowing it.
“No, Wilbur,” Philza pressed a hand against his face. “Thank you.”
—----
Philza was right. Within a couple of weeks, Tommy was getting better and better. Before Wilbur knew it, he was ready to be released out of the hospital.
Wilbur walked in on that day and Tommy had a stressed look on his face.
“Tommy?”
Tommy looked up. He looked like he wanted a hug, but restrained himself, not knowing what to do.
“Tommy, is everything okay?”
“Wilbur, they said they’re releasing me.”
The brunet laughed. “That’s good!”
“No, no, it isn’t good, Wilbur!” Tommy breathed heavily. “Where am I going now? The orphanage? A foster home? I don’t want to be alone! Will I ever see you again? Wilbur, Wilby, Sooty, I want to be with you!”
The boy sobbed loudly, and Wilbur ran to hold him in his arms.
“You’re not supposed to do that,” he told him with a voice full of guilt.
Wilbur smiled, tears of joy streaming down his face as he kissed the child’s golden head. Oh, he missed this so much.
“Tommy,” he giggled. “Did no one tell you?”
“What?” Tommy whimpered.
“Toms, I’m adopting you.”
Tommy pulled back, looking into Wilbur’s eyes with a gaze full of love, wonder, and awe. “Really?” he squealed.
The older one held him close again. He laughed uncontrollably. “Yes, yes, yes! And that’s why I can hug you, Tommy! You’re free from the hospital today and I’m taking you home!”
Tommy joyfully nuzzled Wilbur in the neck, arms slung on his shoulder. Nestling his face in Wilbur’s neck, he wrapped his legs around Wilbur’s waist, as if prompting him to carry him.
“Take me home, then.”
“With pleasure, love,” the new guardian whispered.
He lifted the child up from his hospital bed, twirled him around twice, and carried him out of the gloomy medical ward and into a new life.
—----
Wilbur plopped on his couch beside Tommy, sighing, content to be back home and to have Tommy somewhere safe. He has had Tommy for quite a few days now, and it felt like heaven. He loved to tuck Tommy to bed every night and kiss him before leaving the room. He loved to wake up early (he never wakes up early) to cook pancakes for Tommy and to see the child step into the kitchen, hair disheveled and rubbing his eyes. He loved to take Tommy for a walk in the park, pointing out different birds and animals. Now, Tommy leaned his head on his shoulder as he surfed channels, the golden curls tickling his chin.
That was another thing Wilbur was relieved of. Philza said Tommy wouldn’t lose anymore hair. His hair might be dry and flat, though. He might lose the beautiful bounce, but at least it was still there.
“Wilbur,” Tommy complained.
“What?”
“Can we watch something other than TV? It reminds me of the hospital.”
A stab went right through Wilbur’s heart as he registered the connection. “What do you want to watch then?”
“Nothing.” Tommy snuggled impossibly closer. “I just want to hear you breathing. Been a while.”
Wilbur shut the TV off. He cradled Tommy’s face with his hand and buried his own in the marigold waves.
“Stars,” he chucked. “How did I get so lucky?”
Then, without warning, Tommy fell. A hard knock as his head landed on the floor.
“Tommy!!!”
Wilbur shrieked as he kneeled beside the fainted child, checking for a pulse. There was still a heartbeat, but there was no time to waste. Before he knew it, Wilbur was hitting the gas as hard as he could, running red lights to get his beloved to the hospital.
—----
Click. Click. Click.
The echoing footsteps sent a shiver down Wilbur’s spine as he paced back and forth in the medical ward, tugging at the collar of his sweater, almost wearing it out.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
The muffled EKG machine from Tommy’s room rang in Wilbur’s ears every time he walked past, hearing Philza and his team murmuring to each other.
Creaak.
Wilbur swiveled his head around, to see Philza standing there. A defeated look on his face. Almost instinctively, Wilbur ran into the doctor’s arms. The arms folded around him perfectly, practiced. Like he knew the shape of the worried brunette.
“Phil,” Wilbur mumbled. “Is he going to be okay?”
“I don’t know, Wil. That’s all I can say.”
Energy surged through Wilbur. What was the source? Protectiveness? Love? Anger? All of the above?
“Phil! You have to do something! You have to!” he screamed.
Philza held him tighter. “I’m trying my best.”
“But there has to be some way- any way!” Wilbur dug through his satchel, nearly throwing his wallet at Philza. “If it’s money, take my wallet. Spend whatever you need to get him better. Just save my Toms, please!” he sobbed into Philza’s chest, soaking the man’s lab coat.
“Wilbur! Don’t you think I wish I could do something? There’s nothing else I can do!” he cried hopelessly. “It’s all futile! Only time would tell!”
Only time would tell. How much time did he have?
“I need to go see him,” Wilbur rasped.
Philza nodded. “Of course.”
After a deep breath, Wilbur let go of the comforting arms. He crept towards Tommy’s door, just as he did on the first day he met him. He slowly opened the door, and saw Tommy laying on the bed, still unconscious.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
Wilbur’s breath was shaky. It’s fine. It’s fine. As long as that beep continues steadily, it’ll all be fine.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
He stepped closer to see his dear Tommy in better view.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
He reached out a hand to cup the child’s pale face. A pang of hurt as he saw how much he had to go through.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
He bent down to kiss the boy’s cheek, hoping that would somehow make him well.
Beeeeeeeeeeep……
And the older brother screamed.
Gone. Gone.
He’s all gone.
It was my fault.
I was supposed to protect him.
I just want to hear his voice again.
“Wilbur? Wilbur! Wake up mate, you’re crying!”
Eyes shot open, Wilbur blinked at the ceiling above him. The popcorn ceiling was low and a dull white.
“Wilbur!”
Suddenly, filling his field of view, was a blond-haired boy. Eyes wide in concern, bouncing, twirly hair falling over his face, and mouth slightly open. He wore a dark teal sweater that was printed with the name, “TommyInnit” in all fun, bubbly letters.
It was… all a dream?
“Tommy!” Wilbur cried, joyful tears falling like rain, as he pulled his brother down into the tightest embrace he had ever given him. He quickly ran his fingers through Tommy’s hair. His healthy, sleek, beautiful, golden hair. Not a single strand loose. Wilbur continued to break down as Tommy tucked his head in his neck, allowing him to rub his free hand up and down his back.
Tommy kissed his brother’s cheek. It was clear Wilbur had a dream about him. Wilbur was glad for the assurance Tommy was giving him.
“Wilby,” he hushed. “It’s okay. I’m right here.”
“I know, I know,” Wilbur hiccupped. “But it was so, so real. I thought I lost you, darling. I thought you were gone forever from my life.”
“It wasn’t real, Wilbur. It didn’t happen,” Tommy comforted. “I’m still here. Maybe try to pay attention to my voice.”
“It’s not enough, love. I need to hear your heartbeat.”
Nodding in understanding, Tommy rolled over. Wilbur then laid his head on Tommy’s chest, hearing the child’s adorable little thump thump as he felt him playing with his hair. He tugged a little too hard on one twist.
“Ow!” he winced.
“Sorry. I never played with your hair before.”
Wilbur smiled and laughed softly. Yup. That’s Tommy. Now he knew for sure this was real.
Normally, he would let the kid keep playing with his hair while he would fall asleep, but Wilbur was afraid to go back to sleep and return to that awful dream.
So instead, he sat up. Tommy sat up beside him, head tilted slightly while looking up at his brother with love and care in his eyes and his little smile.
Wilbur reached over a hand to sweep off the hair on Tommy’s face, so he could see his face even better.
“Let’s go on a walk, darling. Then I’ll tell you everything.”
Tommy nodded, humming happily as Wilbur clasped his hand, kissed his knuckles, and pulled him up with him as he stood. Together, they waltzed to the door and stepped outside into the light, where they were met with the familiar busy streets of Brighton and the life that was like a dream to them.
Only this time, that dream was real.