Chapter Text
"Damn bitch,” Tommy mutteres, squatting to unlock his apartment door. He’d just traversed the three flights of stairs that came to the glorious (run down) Apartment 401, only to be mocked by the lock. “Just fucking unlock, it's not that hard,” He pulls the key out, setting it aside and running his hands through his hair. He ultimately decides to just knock, to let his older brother Wilbur unlock the door. It was much easier that way.
The door is pulled open a minute later, and the young boy pockets his key, stands up, and trudges through the doorway, pushing Wilbur out of the way. “Not even a hello?” Wilbur taunts, prodding at the blonds' sides.
“You don’t deserve it,” Tommy spat back playfully. He pulls his bag off his shoulder, setting it by the door. He watches as it puddles down, gravity pulling at every loose point. “Nah, I’m playing, how was your day, Will?”
“No, you don’t get to ask me that after being so rude,” He crosses his arms and kicks the door closed. “It was good,”
Tommy laughs loudly, throwing his head back, “I’m glad, Will, I really am,” He slides his beat-up tennis shoes off, abandoning them at the door and walking over to the couch. “What do yo-”
“Wanna go to dinner? I’ve missed doing that with you!” Wilbur cut him off.
Tommy slouches into the couch, grabbing the TV remote. “Can’t,” he mindlessly flips through the channels, eventually landing on the news. “I have work.” He finishes, setting the remote down and focusing on what the reporters had to say.
Wilbur slumps next to him, although the brunet isn’t paying any attention to the TV. “The news is boring, why didn’t you ask me what I wanted to watch?”
“You cut me off, big man,”
“Did not,” Wilbur puts on an offended face, and Tommy only chuckles.
It was silent after that, Tommy not knowing what to say, and Wilbur not wanting to admit he did, in fact, cut his brother off. It wasn’t like the silence was uncomfortable, both the boy’s were more than content to just sit there.
Wilbur clears his throat. “So, you have work?” Tommy hums a yes. “Just call out, Tom. Spend some time with your older brother,”
Tommy stands up, shimmying past the brunet’s legs and heading towards the kitchen. “I’d love to, it’s just- it’s a bit late to call out, y’know?” He thoughtlessly pulled a pack of crackers out of the cabinet, stuffing a few into his mouth.
“Go ahead and try! John is understanding,”
“Oh, what does John know?” Tommy swallows hard, popping another cracker in his mouth.
“He’s your boss, Tom, he knows everything,”
“Yeah, yeah,” He sets his afternoon snack down and makes his way to his bag, crouching down and fumbling through the front pocket. “What am I telling him?”
“That your brother is in dire need of your attention because he’s been deprived of it for too long,” Wilbur says, propping his feet up on the coffee table.
Tommy chuckles, pulling his phone out and calling John. He moved the phone to his ear, straightening himself.
“Hello?” John asks, muffled.
“Hey John! Can’t hear you very well, but I was calling to ask if I could skip work today?”
“Why?”
“Uh..” Tommy wasn’t used to this, John usually let him call out with the stupidest of reasons, or didn’t even ask for one at all. “Well, me and Will were gonna go out to dinner,”
"Who’s Will?”
“..My brother? You know who he is,”
"Not ringing a bell. Anyway, you have to come in,”
“Oh, okay. You feeling alright?”
“Yes, why?”
“You’re just acting differently. I just wanna make sure you’re feeling okay,”
“I’m fine, thank you. I expect to see you at 5,”
“Yeah..” The blond pulled the phone away from his ear, reluctantly hanging up. “He said no,” Tommy makes eye contact with Wilbur, who’s now making puppy dog eyes. “Sorry Will, I promise I tried.”
“No, it’s okay. Just,” He paused to check the time. “make sure you eat something before you go,”
“Of course, I’m hungry as fuck.” The blonde pockets his phone, then walks back into the kitchen and resumes his snack. It was only 3:38, so he had an hour, basically. That wasn’t enough to go out though, as Wilbur was super picky about enjoying his food. Aka, he took about an hour to eat, which Tommy didn’t have to spare.
The two sat in silence yet again, and that was all Tommy needed for his thoughts to get going.
Loser
You’ve fucked it up again.
Useless
He doesn’t love you anymore
He’s just pitying you
And of course, whenever the intrusive thoughts came, so did the hallucinations. Peeking out of every corner with bloodshot eyes and wicked smiles. He wanted to sink to the floor, to curl into a ball and cry, but he couldn’t –no, wouldn’t– do that.
He was a big, strong man. But if that was true, if he was a big man, then why did he feel so afraid?