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Tommy woke with a start, sweat dripped from his forehead and his breathing was laboured as his wide eyes flicked around the darkened room, tears gathering in them, running down his cheeks. Eventually, his eyes adjusted to the darkness and he could make out the shapes within his room.
A large dresser he had had for, at least, three years, stickers littering the drawers, an old laptop sat on top of a cedar desk, the wood carved with intricate details (a little hobby of his he had picked up from Techno), bright red curtains blocked out the moonlight that would otherwise be streaming in through his window, which was open and allowing a chill breeze to pass over him as he sat upright in his bed.
His breathing quietens and slows as he focuses on his surroundings rather than the sinking feeling in his bones, the owls outside, their calls quiet and calming, the crickets in the garden, their chirps a familiar comfort in this home, the perpetual smell of Techno’s shampoo from the joint bathroom (he steals it sometimes, just to piss him off).
A quiet knock sounds at his door. He freezes.
“Toms? You alright? I heard a bang.”
Shit, he must have knocked something onto his floor when he woke up. He peers over the side of his bed, a sketchbook lay innocently on the carpeted floor.
“Yeah, I’m- I’m fine, king”
He struggled to keep his voice even as he spoke, the panic from before not fully gone from his chest as a cough bubbled up in the middle of his reply and dried tears were still present on his cheeks. Wil saw right through him.
“Am I okay to come in, honey?”
Wilbur begins to open the door slowly as he says it, the hinges creaking slightly under the pressure. He gives enough time for Tommy to tell him to stop if he wants to, but a part of him doesn’t, the larger part it seems, as the door is opened fully and his brother steps fully into the room.
“Oh, sweetheart, what happened?”
He notices the tear tracks on Tommy’s face first in the light from the hallway outside, now streaming in through the open door, as well as his red-rimmed eyes and laboured breathing.
“Night- Nightmare…”
His voice stumbles as he whispers the word and Wilbur steps into the room fully, closing the door behind him and walking over to Tommy where he sat in his place on the bed. He sits down next to him and pulls him into a tight hug.
“Do you wanna talk about it, sunshine?”
Tommy shakes his head in response, the tears from earlier building up again and making it hard to talk without letting out a sob. He doesn’t want to wake anyone else up.
“Okay, that’s okay, Toms”
Wilbur then begins to card his hand through Tommy’s hair. Tommy leaned into the touch and Wilbur cooed.
“You’re alright, sunshine. You’re okay. It’ll all be okay, promise”
Tommy leaned further towards Wilbur’s chest, burning his face in his shoulder and relaxing into him fully. The hand in his hair began to scratch gently against his scalp, short nails rubbing patterns into his skin. It was nice.
They sat there for a few minutes until Tommy’s tears had mostly stopped and his breathing was mostly back to normal.
“You feeling better, Toms?”
“Mhm”
“You sure you don’t wanna talk about it?”
“Mhm”
“Okay.”
“Do you wanna watch something?”
“Up?”
“Sure, sweets”
They got up from Tommy’s bed, leaving the room altogether as Wilbur led them towards the living room. He turned the tv on, the light bright in the darkness of the room, it illuminated their faces, Wilbur’s soft smile and Tommy’s red eyes and nose.
Tommy made his way over to the sofa, dragging a blanket on top of him, leaving room for Wil to join him after he sets up the movie. He puts the disc into the player, skipping the ads as the intro plays, the slow music already beginning to lull Tommy to sleep.
Wilbur makes his way over to the sofa and sits in his place next to Tommy, lifting the blanket and placing it back on top of his legs once he’s comfortable. Immediately after, a head falls onto his shoulder and a body presses against his side as Tommy curls up against him, sleepily.
They sit like that for the rest of the movie, by the end, both brothers are asleep, matching smiles dancing on their faces as they curl into each other.
When morning comes, Phil walks into the room looking for his sons and about to shout their names. He pauses as he sees them huddled together, sleeping peacefully. He lets them sleep in late that morning, breakfast can wait. (Not without taking pictures first though)