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Wilbur, to Tommy, was a lot of things. Annoying, when he decided to get on Tommy’s nerves and muss up his hair after he’d spent an hour combing through it because he’d gotten a crush on some girl and wanted to impress her. Charming for when Tommy was nervous to interact with Tubbo’s brother because Dream was so cool and he was Tubbo’s main caretaker so Tommy didn’t want to fuck anything up.
He was brave in the face of Tommy’s nightmares, talented when he brought out his guitar and started scribbling lyrics in his little leather-bound notebook. Intimidating when Tommy had gotten on the wrong persons nerves and the other kids in the group home chased him until he hid behind the elder to get away from them.
Tommy’s brother was so many things to him, but he wasn’t unshakable. Wilbur’s anxiety wasn’t a secret to him, and for times like right now Tommy was grateful for the transparency.
Because as much as Wilbur took care of him, he was also a fucking idiot and tended to try and hide when he was two steps and a harsh look away from a panic attack. Tommy had learned to recognize the signs. Learned to see the tight lips and tense shoulders and fingers picking at cuticles for what they really were.
And it’s fucking bullshit that their principle wasn’t letting him drag Wilbur away from this. Tommy didn’t give a single shit about the priss he’d decked in the nose. Didn’t care that his actions had lead to that nose being broken or that this whole fiasco was going to land him with either enough detentions to fill the rest of the school year or a suspension for the next week or two. He didn’t fucking care because the bastard had decided it was okay to drag Wilbur into it because the school had seen him be the most capable of reeling Tommy in even though if his brother knew Tommy’s reasons he’d tell him to do it again.
So Tommy sat there silently and seethed, glaring at the authority and resisting every thought in his mind screaming at him to take Wilbur’s hand and run. He didn’t want to make his increasing anxiety worse than it already was.
“Do you understand?” Mister tory fuck face asks and Tommy’s scowl only deepens.
“Yessir,” Wilbur answers for him, shrinking back when the prick’s gaze landed on him.
A tense silence lingers before Pussy bitch sighs and gestures to his office door, dismissing them to sit outside and wait for Tommy’s social worker to come pick him up.
Tommy waits two minutes for the school staff to forget he and Wilbur are even there and then he decidedly does not wait for his social worker because he has more pressing matters.
Matters like calming Wilbur’s breathing from the rapid incline it was taking. The prickly chode fucker had raised his voice several times during his lecturing of Tommy and while he was used to people yelling at him, Wilbur hated it when it happened to him. An unspoken trauma there that he wasn’t planning on asking about without Wilbur putting the story directly into his hands.
The very fact that Wilbur didn’t protest Tommy running off from where he was supposed to be and making matters worse was enough to tell him his older brother was already too in his head to process his surroundings. Time to fix that, then.
Tommy shoved Wilbur into a tight corner out of view of the hallways. Squeezing in himself and taking only a second to shove the thought of the walls closing in on him away before he was wrapping his arms around his brother’s waist and squeezing as tight as he could in an attempt to ground him. He was too angry to remember the breathing exercises Wilbur had taught him, so he hoped the hug was enough.
If it wasn’t Tommy wouldn’t know what to do and then they’d both be worse off than when the day started.
Wilbur choked back a sound that Tommy ignored, burying his face in his brother’s chest and relaxing only the tiniest little bit when arms wrapped around his shoulders as Wilbur hugged him back. Their hiding spot made the hug a little awkward and tight, but if there was one small space that Tommy didn’t mind all that much it was Wilbur’s hugs.
His brother never made Tommy feel like he couldn’t escape, never made the world close in on him until he was a speck of dust, trapped somewhere he was too powerless to escape. They just made him feel safe and warm and loved.
They just made him feel like Tommy.
“Tommy?” Wilbur rasped, tugging at the back of his shirt to get Tommy to look at him but Tommy refused. He hugged Wilbur tighter, ear pressed to his heart where he could hear it’s rapid beating and feel his breathing not quite even enough for Tommy’s preference.
Wilbur didn’t seem to have the energy to push it, so he just gave a shaky sigh and buried his nose in Tommy’s hair. Good, it was Tommy’s turn to take care of him. His brother did so much and he’d be fucking damned if he let him hog all the caretaking bullshit.
“Boys?” a feminine voice called, and Tommy resisted the urge to groan in case Miss Puffy found them before either of them were ready.
His brother didn’t have the same idea Tommy did, apparently, and started tugging Tommy out of their little crevice so that Tommy’s social worker could find them easily.
“Hi Miss Puffy,” Wilbur greeted, voice shaky and making Tommy cling tighter.
Footsteps came up behind him, hasty but confident in their pacing. When Tommy could hear a heavy sigh, he knew it was Miss Puffy finding them where Tommy had holed them up.
“I was told Tommy started a fight?” she asked, question directed at Wilbur.
“She deserved what she got,” he grumbled into Wilbur’s chest, relaxing slightly only when Wilbur brought a hand up to run through his curls.
Miss Puffy remained quiet, Wilbur’s shrug cluing Tommy in that she was asking his brother what had happened with her eyes.
“The principal probably explained but…”
“Douchebag was yelling at us,” Tommy said, shifting to glare at Miss Puffy even as understanding dawned her features. She was just as aware of Wilbur’s issues with getting yelled at as Tommy was.
“Alright,” she started, shifting her stance so she was leaning against the wall on the opposite side of them, “you want to explain why you thought that girl deserved what you did?”
Tommy’s scowl deepened, eyeing Miss Puffy for a moment.
“Called Tina he,” he finally answered, making the social workers eyebrows furrow into a confusion Tommy did nothing to alleviate.
Wilbur tensed, then let out a harsh snort that held no humor but so much pride.
“Good on you, Toms,” he whispered, making Tommy grin broadly. Like he’d said, Wilbur would’ve encouraged Tommy’s decision.
“Well,” Miss Puffy said, voice lilting in a way that told Tommy she’d finally caught on to what he’d done and she was just as proud of him, “in that case I’ll let Mister Smith know that your suspension wasn’t really your fault, yeah?”
Tommy looked up at Wilbur, taking careful stock of his brother’s face and breathing. His smile was genuine and not as shaky as before, his chest rose and fell in much more even increments, and his heart (when Tommy pressed his ear back to Wilbur’s chest) felt much calmer than it had been before.
Only when he felt confident that his brother was fine did Tommy turn to give Miss Puffy a full on grin. Proud that he had managed to help the nice girl who sometimes shared her lunch with him when the pricks a year above him and too good in phys ed but nothing else pushed him into giving them his. Proud that he’d managed to help his brother calm from a building panic attack without even remembering the dumb breathing exercises he’d been taught so many times already.
If Wilbur could be Tommy’s protective and irritating older brother, then Tommy was going to be the best protective and annoying younger brother he could possibly be.
“Let’s get you two back to the group home, I’ve got something important to talk to you about,” Miss Puffy said, reaching forward to ruffle Tommy’s hair affectionately. He almost ducked away from the action, but he didn’t really want to pull away from Wilbur just yet so he settled for sticking his tongue out at her instead. Miss Puffy only rolled her eyes with amusement in response.
“I’ve had a lifetime of serious talks today, Miss Puffy, can we skip it?” Wilbur whined, earning a snicker from Tommy as Puffy started walking towards the door.
“Nah,” Puffy said, teasing, “you’ll like this conversation. Promise.”
Tommy doubted that, but he’d be fine as long as Wilbur was there.