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The first time Tommy struggled to breathe, he’d thought it was just some dumb cold. Something to add onto his shit day because tensions were high in the house with finals around the corner and Phil’s stupid new project.
He’d been trying to bother Wilbur into hanging out with him. Whining about brotherly bonding and how it’d been fucking ages since either of them had played any sort of video game together.
“Come on, Wilbur—”
“Will you shut up?” Wilbur hissed, sending Tommy a harsh glare that made ice form in his chest.
“Wil—” he tried, hackles raising in an attempt to stand his ground.
“No! Get out, Tommy, I’m sick of your shit today.” Wilbur didn’t even let him get a word in, crowding Tommy until he’d been all but pushed out of his brother’s room.
All at once the quiet whispers of they don’t actually love you that had been bothering him for the past week and a half were roaring in Tommy’s mind. The ice in his chest was replaced with a white hot pain and Tommy struggled to gasp through it.
“Wilbur’s just havin’ an off day,” he muttered to himself, blinking back tears.
It wasn’t like his brother had been brushing off his every attempt to hang out for several days in a row or anything.
He ignored the yellow petals he coughed up into his hand later. Electing to shove them to the bottom of the bin in his room.
Tommy refused to not let it be okay. Wilbur hadn’t verbally apologized after that, but he had later knocked on Tommy’s door and offered to watch improv comedy videos with him.
So it was fine. There was nothing wrong and Tommy was confident he was loved.
He was.
“Phil!” Tommy shouted, grinning at his dad as he pulled into the driveway. Tommy had gone through the effort to get as much laundry done as possible today.
He wanted to surprise the man, let him know how much Tommy appreciated him.
Only there wasn’t pride on Phil’s face when he’d gone to the laundry room.
“Oh, fuck!” Phil yelped, scrambling to turn off the wash and making Tommy rush to find out what was wrong.
The laundry room was a mess, suds and water spilling out of the washing machine as it shook almost violently at the effort it was going through.
Tommy dashed to grab the mop and several towels before Phil could tell him to do anything, heart pounding in his chest.
It wasn’t until the washing machine was off and the two of them had managed to keep the soapy water from spreading to the rest of the house that Phil let out an exhausted sigh and guilt choked him.
“Next time you want to help out, ask your brothers how to do this, yeah?” Phil said, not even looking in Tommy’s direction.
He wasn’t surprised Phil knew it was him who had caused this mess. Techno and Wilbur had been helping out with the laundry for ages, they wouldn’t have made this mistake.
That didn’t mean it didn’t sting, didn’t mean the lack of even asking if this was Tommy’s fault hurt.
Tommy hesitated, considering pushing through the guilt and embarrassment settling in his stomach like rocks to be his usual boisterous self but he just… he couldn’t manage it. So he just nodded instead and kept helping through the pains in his chest and the growing difficulty with his breathing.
Phil was disappointed. Tommy hadn’t helped, he’d just caused more problems.
Later, when long purple petals accompanied the yellow carnation bud that Tommy threw up after an intense coughing fit, he couldn’t bring himself to try and figure out what flower they came from.
He didn’t really want to find out what the flowers wanted to tell him about how Phil really felt.
Refusing to acknowledge Tommy’s diminishing hope that his family loved him; that his insecurities were simply lies whispering in his mind to tear him down rather than truths trying to warn him, Tommy pushed on.
It was getting harder to talk, to yell and shout and be loud and full of life with the flowers he didn’t want to think about growing in his lungs. So he decided to spend time with Techno.
Which was nice! It was great, really, outside of the initial weird looks Techno kept shooting him. It made sense, with how quiet Tommy was being lately, but that… He didn’t want to think about that.
And Techno didn’t seem to mind the company, which made breathing just that little bit easier. There was a schedule now, Tommy would get done with his homework, then he’d pick up whatever book he’d been working through and he’d join Techno in his room. They would sit in a companionable quiet, ruffling pages and the occasional cough from Tommy that he struggled not to let turn into a whole fit.
He’d been avoiding Wilbur and Phil, neither of them seemed to notice or care. Tommy kept pretending he couldn’t feel the constricting pain of flowers taking root in his lungs, making their way up his throat.
Everything was fine.
Except… Except Techno’s door was closed and locked today. Tommy had knocked on it four times know, growing increasingly antsy the longer he went without an answer.
Tommy knocked again.
“Go downstairs today, Tommy,” Techno’s voice came from the other side, muffled and monotone.
Agony bloomed in Tommy’s throat the second he heard the rejection. Thorns dug into him when he gasped, pain spreading from his lungs to his chest and started choking him.
It was so much, too much, and Tommy staggered away from the door.
Techno didn’t want him around anymore. Tommy had somehow pushed his luck, annoyed his brother the way he’d gotten on Wilbur’s nerves. The way he could never seem to be a help to Phil.
Tommy could barely breathe, head tilted up as he collapsed into the wall opposite of Techno’s door and yellow and purple blooms started trying to crawl their way out of his throat.
He was going to die.
There wasn’t anything he could really do about the hanahaki now. He’d ignored it too long and now it was killing him and he was going to miss his family so much even if they didn’t miss him.
“Tommy— oh shit, Phil!”
That was Wilbur. Tommy could barely process the panic in his brother’s voice, too busy trying to force air through the stems and petals. Too busy trying not to panic himself because he already couldn’t breathe.
“Will? What’s—”
Techno stopped, door falling open as he stood in front of Tommy. His eyes were wide, mouth dropped open in a silent horror that Tommy honestly should have expected.
Whether they loved him or not, seeing someone die in front of you would be pretty traumatic.
“Tommy?” Techno whispered, taking a step towards him, only to jolt backwards when Tommy let out a wheezing sort of whine.
No, he didn’t want him to leave. It was selfish and stupid but Tommy was scared and he wanted his older brother to hold him. He wanted a hug, to be comforted, to feel loved again.
Two pairs of footsteps clambered up the stairs, and then Phil was collapsed on his knees, hands hovering over Tommy’s body.
Tommy didn’t really remember sinking to the floor, but he guessed it’d make sense. His body was more focused on trying to get air than it was keeping him upright.
“Dad— Tommy— I—” Wilbur was struggling with words, hovering behind Phil while their dad panicked so hard he didn’t really know what to do.
It was… an experience. Seeing Wilbur at a loss for words, seeing his dad not know what his next move was, seeing Techno panic. Tommy let out that wheezing whine again, lifting a hand to clutch at his dad’s sleeve in a weak attempt to keep them both grounded.
“Toms, Toms just… just keep breathing, I’ve got you,” Phil said, very, very carefully shifting Tommy from the wall he was leaning on to hug him close to his chest. The contact felt like bliss. It’d been ages since Tommy let himself get close enough to Phil to get a hug.
“Wilbur call an ambulance,” Techno suddenly spoke up. His voice was thick with emotion, thick with the horror that hadn’t left his face since he’d left his room and saw Tommy collapsed to the floor with buds peeking from the back of his mouth.
The buds looked like they belonged to yellow carnations and purple hyacinth. Rejection, disappointment, and sorrow.
Techno’s twin made a pained noise, clearly not wanting to leave Tommy’s side. They couldn’t afford that though.
“Go,” Techno snapped, and Wilbur darted back down the stairs to grab his phone.
With help being called, Techno carefully kneeled on Tommy’s other side, carefully carding his fingers through his little brother’s hair.
“Can you tell us who it is, Theseus?” he asked softly, swallowing past the lump in his throat at the pain in Tommy’s eyes when they met Techno’s own.
Tommy reached forward with his other hand and gripped onto the front of Techno’s shirt. It was weak, and Techno could pull away if he wanted to, but he let Tommy have the comfort he clearly needed from him.
When his brother didn’t answer, (clearly wasn’t able to answer,) Techno forced himself to keep talking.
“Is this why you’ve been so quiet lately?” he asked, watching Phil wipe sweat from Tommy’s forehead and readjust his head to help him try to breathe easier.
Tommy tried to nod, but his breath became stuttered and uneven and Phil shushed him quietly.
“It’s okay mate, you don’t have to talk or move.”
Techno felt guilt crush him that he’d caused Tommy to be in more pain than he already was. Hanahaki was a nasty disease, it took weeks to develop this badly and Tommy hadn’t told any of them.
He hadn’t gone to any of them, just… just avoided Phil and Wilbur and read in Techno’s room like nothing was wrong.
Suddenly an idea formed in Techno’s mind. It turned his stomach into knots and he felt like his heart was trying to rip itself out of his chest at the mere thought but he needed to be absolutely sure. He needed to check that the dots lining up in his head weren’t just speculation.
“Tommy,” he started, tone serious as he got his brother’s attention, “Tommy, I love you.”
Phil looked at him, then back to his son with a dawning horror at the surprise mixing with the pain and panic in Tommy’s expression.
“Tommy— Toms, I love you so much, did you not think I—” Phil’s words nearly choked him, watching as several of the buds started to wither into ash.
“Wilbur!” Techno called while Tommy started coughing painfully, ash escaping his throat in a an uncomfortable plume.
Tommy could hear Will’s footsteps clamber frantically up the steps, panic and worry marring his features and Tommy couldn’t help but hope.
“Tell him you love him,” Techno demanded, making Tommy wince. He didn’t want to hear it if it was forced. That’d just be worse than hearing Wilbur hated him.
Wilbur’s face contorted in confusion.
“What? Of course I— no. No, Tommy, you didn’t think—”
Tommy couldn’t answer, rattling breaths shaking his chest as he coughed up soggy ash.
“Wilbur,” Phil snapped, clutching Tommy tighter to his chest.
“Of fucking course I love you, Toms,” Wilbur said, needing no further prompting as he collapsed to his knees next to Techno.
Tommy’s throat and chest still hurt, and there were still buds of rejection and sorrow, but it was getting easier to breathe.
He’d still have to go to the hospital to heal from the damage already done, and Tommy didn’t… He wasn’t entirely sure he believed them fully but it was hard to deny there wasn’t any care there. Not with how hard they’d panicked over the idea of Tommy dying. Not with how devastated they all looked when they realized Tommy had stopped believing they loved him.
Maybe Tommy would actually get to relearn how to feel loved again.