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When Wilbur got the call, he wasn't busy. "Hello?"
From the other end, there came a sniffle.
Wilbur's brow raised. "Tommy?"
With a choked sob and his voice shaking, Tommy spoke up, "Will."
"Tommy, are you alright?"
"Will," Tommy repeated between his cries.
Wilbur sat up in his bed. "Hey, hey, it's okay. What happened?"
And Tommy was gone, the broken up cries pushed aside to make room for his wails, pitiful and echoing around the walls of whatever room he was in. It was a painful contrast to Wilbur's peaceful early evening world now long forgotten.
Nothing Wilbur said seemed to make any change to the boy's inconsolable state, so instead, Wilbur waited. He watched the sun through his window as it stalked lower and lower down the orange sky, the calls of seagulls enjoying the last light of November far in the distance, sharp like Tommy's cries.
Eventually, the blonde boy calmed down enough for Wilbur to try his question again. "What happened? Are you okay?"
Tommy's breathing was shaky, his inhales stuttered and his exhales punctuated with occasional coughs. Even still he managed a reply. "I don't want to be here anymore."
Wilbur's heart stopped, colour draining from his face in an instant. "Tommy?" he called the boy's name in a panic.
"I mean, in this house," Tommy corrected himself, silently eyeing the old thin scars on his wrist that even the scarring cream couldn't clear up after all this time. He traced them with his thumb, Wilbur's sigh of relief not missed. If he closed his eyes, he could almost feel the blades from old pencil sharpeners pressing into his skin all over again. No amount of cream or time would erase that. "I don't want to be in this house anymore."
Wilbur knew how this went: he'd been 13 once. He'd gone through his parents' divorce and all of the mess it entailed. He could remember hugging a pillow to his stomach as he lay awake at night to the sound of his parents fighting again, and again, and again. He could easily remember thinking to himself those same words of 'I don't want to be here anymore', seemingly day in and day out. Oh, Wilbur knew how this went.
"Is it your parents?" He asked sympathetically.
And Tommy remembered all over again why he loved Wilbur so much. The man was easy to talk to, no matter the subject. He just seemed to get it. "Yeah." He watched the light over his sink flicker out with a pop from his place on the cool tiles of the bathroom floor.
"D'you wanna come down for a few days? You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to."
Tommy's heart rose as tears welled in his eyes all over again. His mind lit up, words of hope and gratefulness echoing left right, left right. God, he owed Wilbur the world for this. "Could I?"
"Of course, man," Wilbur lay back down. "All you ever have to do is ask."
Tommy wiped away his tears as they spilt over, the top half of his t-shirt already littered with patches of wetness from earlier in the afternoon.
"Thank you," he cried, saying the phrase over and over again as he slumped against his bathtub, almost lying on the floor.
Wilbur smiled sadly. His younger self would be happy he could do this for someone he called his brother. After all, it was all he himself had ever wanted. Someone safe.
Tommy sat back up, the coolness of the floor suddenly shocking to his skin compared to the fire burning in his heart.
Even from his end of the call, Wilbur could hear the distant "Tom! Dinner's ready!". He cringed, what Tommy must be feeling right now was as familiar as the changing of the seasons.
"You gonna be okay?" he asked as Tommy sighed.
"Yeah," Tommy replied like was trying to convince himself. As he pulled himself to his feet, snatching his phone from the floor as we went, he stared at himself in the mirror, knowing he'd have to wash the tear tracks away before heading downstairs. Maybe change his top as well.
"Call me later?" Wilbur asked, big brother mode firmly on.
Tommy smiled to himself, the muscles in his cheeks hurting from being out of use for so long. "Yeah, of course."
"Don't worry, man. You'll be moving out in a few months, just- just make it 'til then, alright?"
And again, Tommy was almost shocked at how well Wilbur seemed to know what to say. On his end, Wilbur found himself willing away sudden tears, glad the hitch in his voice had passed unnoticed.
"Yeah, okay. You're right. Thanks, man," Tommy psyched himself up for dinner.
"Of course, Tommy."
"I'll ask about coming 'round tomorrow."
"Good, you can tell me about it later."
"They'd better say yes," Tommy joked with a watery chuckle.
"If they don't, I'll just come up and take you out for a day." Tommy couldn't tell if the brunette was joking or not. He selfishly hoped he wasn't.
"Okay, I'll talk to you later. Bye, Will."
"See ya, Toms."