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Wilbur had been living in his van for years, and he hadn’t been back to his hometown for months, so it was a shock to him when Phil called him and asked him to come home. That wasn’t something he’d done before, but he’d only said he’d explain when he got home, so Wilbur had no choice but to drive the 5 hours home from where he’d been staying in the north.
It was comforting to see his childhood home, and he was smiling as he parked outside and got out of the car. Phil met him outside of the house to wrap him in a tight hug, smiling. “Thanks for coming home so quickly, Wil.” His expression was one mixed between happiness that his son was home, and nervousness.
Wilbur accepted the hug, wrapping his father tightly in his arms, but became concerned at Phil’s expression. “Dad, what’s wrong?”
“You remember your childhood friend, Tommy, right?” Phil asked gently.
Wilbur did remember him. They were like brothers, but had lost contact when Tommy had seemingly had to switch numbers in the middle of one of Wilbur’s escapades across the country, since he’d stopped responding to Wilbur's weekly phone calls. He nodded in response to Phil, mentally preparing himself for the worst case scenario.
“Well–” Phil took a deep breath, his shoulders tensed and he continued, keeping one arm around Wilbur’s shoulders– “He came to us a few days ago asking to get in contact with you. We kept trying to call you, but you wouldn’t respond, and we were worried he wouldn’t make it–”
Wilbur cut his father off, his eyes widening with the realisation, “What do you mean, wouldn’t make it?” Fuck, was Tommy dead, and he couldn’t have been there because he'd sat and watched as his phone rang instead of answering it? Had he really let his best friend down for the first and only time? The questions raced through his mind, eliminating any other thought he’d had about why Phil had wanted him home.
“He’s alive! Don’t worry Wil, he’s alive.” Phil rushed to calm Wilbur down when he noticed the man beginning to shake with the possibility of Tommy’s death.
Wilbur’s tone was bitter as he responded, eyes narrowing at his father, “You could've started with that.”
“I’m sorry, but he is dying, and I didn’t want to give you false hope.” Phil admitted, dropping his head. So Tommy was dying, but not dead. In a way, that felt worse; Wilbur would end up desperately doing anything he could to keep Tommy alive, and be helpless as he watched his friend pass away right in front of him.
He took a deep breath. If Tommy was dying, he needed Wilbur to not be a mess of emotions, it would make everything worse. “So why did you want me home?” he asked Phil, his voice less shaky than he’d expected it to come out.
Phil explained quickly, cutting down the story as much as he could, “Well, when Tommy asked us to get in contact with you, he said that one of the final things on his bucket list was to see a bunch of famous sites around the country, and he wanted to do that with you.”
Tommy wanted to spend some of his last days alive with Wilbur? Wilbur felt honoured, but at the same time, guilty. He wasn’t someone who was good at comforting people, he was an emotional wreck himself at times, but if that’s what Tommy wanted, Wilbur would be damned if he was going to refuse. Again, he nodded, and Phil began guiding him into the house.
“So, where is Tommy?” Wilbur asked cautiously.
“He’s been crashing in your old room, since he’s been struggling for energy and we didn’t want him to exhaust himself and die before you got here.”
Upon hearing this, Wilbur wanted to push Phil’s arm from his shoulders and sprint inside the house, up the stairs, and into his room to see Tommy, but he had to stay calm, for everyone’s sake. As they went through the front door, Wilbur’s impatience got the better of him, and he took the stairs 3 at a time to get up to his room quicker. He burst through the door and saw Tommy sitting up in his old bed.
His expression softened. “Hey, Toms. How are you?”
Tommy laughed slightly, and gestured to himself. “About as good as I can get, with the whole impending death thing I’ve got going on here.”
Typical, Tommy was coping with all of this with humour. Wilbur let out a strangled laugh as tears began streaming down his face, and he rushed forwards to wrap Tommy in a hug, who let out an “oomf” noise when Wilbur hugged him a little too tight, but leaned into the hug immediately.
“I’m so sorry I didn’t get here sooner, if I’d have known–” Wilbur cut himself off. There was no use apologising for the past, especially now that his brother had so little future laid out in front of him.
Tommy gestured for Wilbur to sit down on the edge of the bed, and handed him a tissue from the bedside table to dry his eyes with. He smiled, though it was weak, and reassured Wilbur, “It’s okay, you’re here now, and that’s what matters.”
Phil seemed to appear in the doorway, and he pulled the chair over from Wilbur’s desk to Tommy’s bedside to sit with the two boys. “So, Wilbur, I’ve already told you why you’re here, do you think you’d be able to plan a short trip overnight?”
Wilbur nodded, he definitely had a few places in mind that he wanted Tommy to see. Most of them would have to be places they could get in for free, or he could easily busk the money for while Tommy slept, since he was already tight on money. But he could afford to spend more money if it was for his brother.
“Is there anywhere specific you want to go, Tommy? It’s your trip, after all,” Wilbur asked gently.
Tommy simply shook his head. “No, I just want to explore a bit, since I’ve never had the chance to leave this town.”
Wilbur got up and walked over to his desk to pull his map down from the wall above it. Before he’d finished college, he’d used this map to plan out where he would go in his van, so there were many locations already marked out. A lot of them were old historical sites, but some were more relevant to Tommy’s interests.
"So, I think we want to get this all done in around 48 hours, since we don't know how much time we have left. I have to account for a lot of driving time in that, and time for me to sleep, since I cannot do 24 hours worth of driving on caffeine alone," Wilbur began, hating how the words 'we don't know how much time we have left' felt on his tongue. It was the truth, but Wilbur wished it was anything but.
"I think we should go to Alnwick castle, definitely, there's a lot of history associated with the place. I'd stay clear of the gardens, though, since there's the poison garden there and I'd rather not speed up your death, Tommy." Wilbur pointed at one of the pins in his map. "It's a 5 hour drive, though, so that'd have to be one of the last stops we do before turning back, unless we go up there first and make our way back down."
Wilbur got lost in his thoughts as he wondered which way he wanted to do this. He obviously needed to account for Tommy's lack of energy, which meant little to no walking at each stop, or Wilbur could carry Tommy for a large majority of the time. The thought struck him that Tommy could die as they were driving, and he made a mental note to come up with a system for checking that Tommy was still alive, especially if he was going to be sleeping while Wilbur drove to conserve energy.
He shook his head to clear it of the thoughts of Tommy dying. That wasn't a reality he was prepared to face yet. He moved his finger down to the south-west, nearby where England met Wales, and tapped another pin in the map. "I definitely want to drive over the Clifton Suspension Bridge, it's one of the oldest surviving iron suspension bridges in the world."
He tapped another pin, but frowned. "Stonehenge would be a good place to visit, but it honestly takes hours to get around because of how popular it is, so I'm gonna stay away from there. Same thing for anything to do with London." He shifted his fingers to trace the general outline of the city. Tommy simply sat and listened to Wilbur as he watched him point out places on the map.
"If we get the chance, though, I'd love to go to Abbey Road in London, since it was made famous by the Beatles, and you know how much of a sucker I am for older music." Wilbur smiled, as did Tommy.
"There's a place called Needle's Eye, in Wentworth, it's not as popular as everything else, but it's got a funny history, so I'd like to take us there." Wilbur once again tapped the general location of the place he was talking about.
He stopped to think again, then arranged everything into an order; he would start by driving them across Clifton Suspension Bridge, hopefully getting a photo together with the bridge in the background, but if Tommy couldn't muster the energy, Wilbur wouldn't force him. They'd then go to London for Abbey Road, but if Wilbur couldn't find parking, he'd just have to accept that he wasn't going to be able to recreate the photo with Tommy, something he desperately wanted to do.
From there, it would be a long stretch of driving up to South Yorkshire, where he'd park as close as he could get to the Needle's Eye and carry Tommy the rest of the way, since it wasn't a location that was easily accessible by car. Once they'd visited the Needle's eye, Wilbur would drive them up to a coast near Alnwick Castle, where they'd park up and watch the sunset, hopefully, then sleep in the van.
From there, it was a short drive to Alnwick Castle, where they'd spend a large part of the day, before starting the 5 hour drive back home. If everything went to plan, Tommy would be back home with his family before he died. The traitorous voice in Wilbur's head told him that Tommy might not even have tonight, but Wilbur shook it out to the best of his ability.
***
Once Wilbur had explained the plan to Tommy, he'd began packing up the van. Tommy hadn't brought any clothes to Wilbur's house, and had just been stealing Wilbur's old clothes that Wilbur had left at home, so they just decided between them that Wilbur would lend Tommy his clothes for the duration of the trip. Besides underwear, because that was just gross. Phil had gone out and bought some for Tommy when he let the boy stay the first night.
Wilbur didn't necessarily plan to busk his way through the trip, since he had a little bit of money saved up, but he still made sure to apply for licences in all of the relevant areas, and research the codes of conduct. He picked up a few new string packets, picks, and other general bits of equipment from his cupboard, while Tommy was asleep, and loaded them into his van, along with his acoustic guitar, remembering to take his electric out.
He also made sure he had plenty of caffeinated drinks available in his van, which meant stocking the fridge with Pepsi, and sneaking out an extra coffee jar from the kitchen when Phil wasn't looking. He could've sworn Techno saw, but if he did, he didn't mention it. Once he was certain he had everything packed, he said goodbye to Phil and Techno, then went to sleep on the floor in his room, which still had to be comfier than the "bed" in his van; technically speaking, his bed was actually the sofa, and it would be much comfier if Wilbur actually made the effort to put the mattress on it, but he was usually so tired from everything that he just collapsed onto it and fell asleep.
He woke up to his alarm at 4am, making a hot drink for both himself and Tommy, and bringing them upstairs. He got dressed as quickly as he could, before gently shaking Tommy awake. Tommy was much more exhausted than Wilbur was, and anyone who looked at him could tell. As he pushed the blankets back from his legs, Wilbur found himself surprised at just how skinny Tommy had become, but couldn't say he hadn't been expecting it.
Once Tommy was dressed and had more colour in his cheeks from the warm drink, Wilbur scooped him up and carried him outside to the van, locking the front door behind him. He opened the side door with his foot, and clambered in to lay Tommy on the sofa-bed-thing, which he'd taken care to sort out properly, so Tommy was comfortable for the whole ride.
When Wilbur was satisfied that Tommy was comfortable, he'd gone over the system he'd come up with. He knew Tommy should be sleeping as they drove, just to conserve as much energy as possible, but he also didn't want to be pulling over every 10 minutes to check the boy's pulse. Instead, he'd have an alarm set for every 20 minutes, so Tommy could nap in 20 minute bursts, then wake up to the alarm, check in with Wilbur to reassure the man that he was alive, then go back to sleep.
The alarm was just long enough that Tommy would wake up and feel like he'd actually slept, but short enough so he wouldn't enter REM sleep and wake up feeling worse. This was something Wilbur had researched when he was first living out of his van, since he tended to park in places with one or two hour parking limits, and had to make the most of the time he had parked.
They set off shortly after discussing rules, including that if Tommy ever felt worse than he normally did, he'd immediately tell Wilbur, so Wilbur could pull over and check on him. He also brought his medication with him, and a paper copy of his schedule, so Wilbur could wake him up to take them if needed.
It was 5am by the time they set off, and the sun still hadn't made an appearance yet. Wilbur kept his music low so Tommy could sleep, but to his surprise, the boy stayed awake for around an hour, talking quietly to Wilbur about their past memories that Tommy wanted Wilbur to remember when he thought of Tommy. The first alarm was a shock, and startled him out of the autopilot he'd been driving on. Tommy simply pressed the button to switch off the alarm, which was enough for Wilbur to know he was alive.
For the second hour, Tommy slept, waking up just to turn off the alarm and go back to sleep. It was strange, having an alarm go off every 20 minutes, but Wilbur eventually grew used to it. For the final stretch before the boys got to the bridge, Tommy spent a lot of it in a weird limbo between waking and sleeping. He wasn't quite asleep, in that he could automatically reach up to turn off the alarm when it rang, but he wasn't quite awake either, and his responses to Wilbur's conversation were limited to one or two words. Wilbur didn't mind, though. Tommy's presence was enough.
Just before the bridge came into view, Wilbur parked up outside a nearby cafe and hopped out to buy the duo a coffee and a pastry each, since he was sure Tommy must've been starving. Tommy's face lit up when he noticed Wilbur coming back into the van with the food and drinks, and he sat up to eat and drink.
They talked quietly as they ate and drank their food, and Tommy finally brought up the topic that Wilbur knew both of them had been dreading.
"Hypothetically, what happens if I die before we go to all of these places, or before we get home?" he asked between mouthfuls of his pastry. "Not that I think I will, I'm fairly sure I've got a few weeks or so left in me."
Wilbur sighed, "I'd drive you home. I'd get you to your parents, and I'd help them with anything they needed help with. If that happened to be funeral plans, then so be it. I don't think I'd be able to process it, though. Not until your funeral. Especially since you'd probably just look like you were sleeping in the back of my van. I'd convince myself that you were going to wake up any minute to turn off the alarm and grumble at me about it."
He would apologise profusely to Tommy's parents for taking the last few days they had with their son away from them. Wilbur didn't mention that part to Tommy.
When they'd both finished eating, Wilbur told Tommy not to go to sleep, since they were going to cross the bridge in a few minutes, and he wanted to get a picture, if Tommy was up to it. Since it was fairly early in the morning, the bridge was quiet, which was exactly Wilbur's intention. He paid the toll, and since there were hardly any cars on the bridge, he went extra slow so Tommy could look out of the windows at the view from the bridge.
"Fucking hell, dude, this is amazing!" he'd practically yelled when he first caught sight of the view from the bridge.
Wilbur parked up on the other side of the bridge, and Tommy practically bounced out of the van to get a photo with Wilbur. Thankfully, Wilbur had remembered to bring that old selfie stick he'd bought when he was a teenager, and the two boys found it easy to get the bridge in the background, especially since Tommy had decided to jump on Wilbur's back to make himself look taller.
They'd gotten back in the van after that, and Tommy had practically collapsed onto the bed to sleep his exhaustion off. It worried Wilbur that Tommy was sleeping this much, but he wasn't going to interfere. The next stretch of driving was another 2 hours, most of which Tommy spent sleeping, only occasionally waking up to turn off Wilbur's alarm and grumble about it before getting back to sleep.
London was busier than Wilbur would've liked. He began to panic when he couldn't originally find somewhere close by to park, but almost cried with relief when a driver pipped at him to gesture to the parking space they were leaving. Once he was parked, he gently shook Tommy awake, and once the boy was fully awake, Wilbur scooped him up and made his way out of the van, carrying him the entire 5 minute walk to the iconic road.
Wilbur didn't want to use the selfie stick for this photo, so instead, he enlisted the help of a kind stranger, and in return, he would take the photo for their group when it came to it. He set Tommy down on the crossing, and posed in front of him to give him a reference to work from, then gave the stranger a shout when the duo was ready. Once the photos were taken, Wilbur rushed over to have a look at them, and smiled when he saw Tommy's expression; his smile was so bright it was practically impossible to tell the levels of exhaustion he was suffering from.
Once Wilbur had taken a photo for the other group, he picked Tommy up again and took them both back to the van, and before he started driving again, he took two Pepsis from the fridge, passed one to Tommy, then opened the other and chugged it. Tommy ignored the can in front of him, and instead curled up on the bed.
"Wilbur, do you have any blankets? My hands are cold," Tommy asked quietly, yawning. It was odd that Tommy's hands were cold, especially since it was the middle of summer, but again, Wilbur was really only here to make the end of Tommy's life more bearable.
"Yeah, of course, Toms." Wilbur opened one of the cupboards to find his pile of blankets, and passed a few over to Tommy, who draped them over his body and curled up under them. Wilbur glanced over at the paper schedule he had taped onto the cupboard, and realised it was time for Tommy to take some of his meds. Wilbur took the containers from the counter, measured out the correct doses for everything, and set them in front of Tommy.
"Toms? You've got to take your meds before you sleep, you can take them with your Pepsi or I can get you a glass of water." Wilbur explained, sitting on the end of the bed.
Tommy shook his head– "I don't feel like drinking right now, it's too exhausting."
Wilbur blinked. Tommy had to take these meds, and he knew that, so why was he refusing a drink? "Do you want to take them without a drink, then?"
"I can't."
Was Tommy really that exhausted? Wilbur had to come up with some form of solution, because Tommy would be in pain otherwise. He decided to text Phil, surely his dad would know what to do.
Wilbur: Dad, Tommy can't take his meds because he says he doesn't feel like drinking, what do I do?
It didn't take Phil very long to begin to respond, which Wilbur was thankful for, until he actually got the message.
Dadza: You unfortunately can't force him to
Wilbur frowned at his phone. That wasn't the answer he needed, but at least the bubble that indicated his father typing had popped back up.
Dadza: If he does want to take his meds but can't drink, if you have salt packets, try putting one of them in his mouth. It seems cruel but it'll motivate him to drink, hopefully
Phil was right, it did seem cruel, but if it got Tommy to be able to take his meds, Wilbur wasn't going to argue with it. He went rummaging through his cabinets and found a few spare McDonald's salt packets, then filled a glass with water and set it down next to Tommy.
"Right, Phil gave me a solution, it's not the best, but you really need to take these,Tommy, they're for your own good, to make sure you're not in any pain," Wilbur explained, ripping the salt packet open. He guided Tommy into a sitting position with his free hand, then sighed.
"Do you mind opening your mouth? I'm just going to pour a bit of the salt in and then hopefully you'll be more motivated to drink." Wilbur wished there was a different way to do this already, especially when he saw the concerned look on Tommy's face.
Nevertheless, Tommy did as he was asked, and Wilbur poured a small amount of the salt into his mouth. Immediately, Tommy's eyes widened, and he made a grab for the glass of water sitting on the counter and chugged the contents of the glass as quickly as he could.
"Fucking hell, I never want to do that again," he blurted out, before drinking the very last drops of water in the glass. He opened the can of Pepsi, and picked up the tablets on the table one by one, swallowing them with the help of a swig of his drink. Soon enough, there were no more pills on the table, and Tommy was back to being curled up on the bed under a mountain of blankets.
They'd wasted a lot of time trying to get Tommy to take his meds, so Wilbur decided it was best for the two of them to skip going to the Needle's Eye, but he still told the story of it to Tommy to lull him to sleep.
Apparently, the structure was built in order to win a bet. According to many of the sources Wilbur had read, a man had bet that he could ride his horse and carriage through the eye of a needle. In order to win the bet, the man had had the structure constructed in the shape of the eye of a needle, and had rode his horse and carriage through it. The whole history of the structure was just one determined man trying to win a bet that was otherwise deemed impossible, it was strange.
The drive up to the coast was peaceful, the music quietly playing from the radio only being periodically interrupted by Wilbur's alarm going off, to make sure Tommy was still alive. They got to their parking spot around 30 minutes before sunset, and Wilbur used it as an opportunity to cook some half-decent food for both himself and Tommy. He set the plates down on the table and began eating his food, giving Tommy a concerned glance when all the boy could do was push his food around the plate with his fork.
"The food isn't poisoned, you know?" Wilbur teased, and Tommy laughed slightly.
The boy shrugged. "My throat is just dry, it makes me feel sick to even think about eating."
"Please, Toms, eat a little bit. If you can't eat any more after that, then that's fine, but please just try and eat something." Wilbur's voice was weak as he pleaded with Tommy. Tommy had to eat to keep his energy up, Wilbur didn't want to have to skip the last stop because Tommy didn't have the energy.
"You need the energy, otherwise I don't think we're gonna be able to go around the castle tomorrow," he explained softly.
This seemed to spark something in Tommy, because he picked up a little bit of his food with his fork and ate it. He then picked up another small bite, and ate it, then another. In between bites, he explained, "I really want to see the castle before we go home."
He finished half his plate before giving up, and Wilbur once again, measured out the correct doses of meds, and placed them on the table in front of Tommy, who took them without much complaint. Once Tommy was all sorted, and Wilbur had also finished his food, Wilbur picked Tommy up and took him outside of the van, dragging the small chair from inside the van with him for Tommy to sit on.
He opened up the back of the van to take out his guitar, then sat on the floor next to Tommy to tune it. Once he had it tuned, he began to play a soft, gentle melody.
Watching the sunset against the cliff was amazing, and Wilbur had to stop playing to simply admire it with his brother. It was so easy to forget the reality of Tommy's situation, sitting here with him. At least until Tommy brought it up softly.
"When I die, can you have that song you played earlier, played at my funeral?" he asked.
Wilbur was shocked at the suddenness of it. "I can try, but it's one of my own songs and it's not on any music platform yet," he explained, coming up with a plan in his mind quickly.
"Actually, I have an idea–" he ran back into the van to grab his phone, some paper, and a pen– "How about I teach you the lyrics, and we record it together?"
Tommy smiled, and nodded excitedly. Wilbur wrote down all the lyrics from memory, doing his best to make it legible for Tommy. As Tommy read the lyrics, and commented on how dark they were, Wilbur did his usual voice warm-ups.
Tommy gave Wilbur a weird look, so he explained, "I'm doing voice warm ups, to make sure my voice doesn't crack while I'm singing, because I think I'd cry if my voice cracked while recording this. Not to mention I don't want to damage my voice when I sing for a living." When he noticed Tommy's intrigued expression, he smiled, and offered, "Do you want to try them?"
"Yeah, why not?" Tommy grinned at Wilbur. Wilbur began to guide Tommy through some of his favourite vocal warm ups, grinning like an idiot when Tommy realised just how weird they got.
Once both boys had done the warm ups, Wilbur demonstrated the song to Tommy so he could figure out how the lyrics were sung. It was one of the more emotional songs Wilbur had written in a while, and he appreciated Tommy for not questioning the lyrics at all.
Once he was certain Tommy was confident with singing, he set up his phone to record the two of them. He counted them in softly, and began singing with Tommy. It felt amazing to sing with another person, since it wasn't something that Wilbur did often. When they finished singing, Wilbur stopped the recording, but didn't move to get up. Instead, he pulled Tommy into a hug as tears streamed down his cheeks.
"I'm going to miss this." he said through sniffles, and he felt a wet patch forming on his shoulder where Tommy was leaning. He couldn't bring himself to care though, he needed to be there for Tommy, to be the shoulder for his brother to cry on, because fuck, Tommy was coping with this so much better than Wilbur was, and he deserved not to be the one comforting everyone about his death for once.
"Wilbur, can we go back into the van now? It's getting cold."
"Yeah, of course." Wilbur broke away from the hug and scooped Tommy up, bringing him back into the van and placing him on the bed. He pulled some blankets over his brother as the boy curled into a ball to conserve heat.
Once he made sure Tommy was comfortable and warm, he retrieved his guitar and chair from outside, bringing them back in and locking the van door. He put the foil inserts in the windows, went through his night routine, then settled himself in the passenger seat, covered in one of his spare jackets.
***
The first thing that Wilbur thought to do when he woke up was check on Tommy. The boy was still breathing, though it was irregular, and his pulse was slower than Wilbur expected, but still there. Wilbur changed from his sleep clothes – he didn't really have pyjamas just in case he had to get out of his van in the middle of the night – and he prepared a hot drink for both him and Tommy, and a few slices of toast for them both as well. He put Tommy's food in the microwave, and measured out his meds to take once he'd woken up.
He ate and drank in silence, doing his best not to wake his brother. When he'd eaten, he took his guitar and chair out of the van, set an alarm for 30 minutes, and went outside to play guitar. It was in the code of conduct for the town that buskers couldn't stay in one spot for longer than 30 minutes, and Wilbur was fairly confident he could earn enough money in that time. He put his guitar case in front of him, scattered a little of his own change in it, then sat down to play.
He played mostly songs that were guaranteed to earn him more money: popular songs that sounded hard, but were actually easy for someone of his skill. He played for a while, accumulating a small crowd outside his van, before eventually playing one final song. During that song, his alarm went off, and he ignored it, assuming Tommy would just turn it off and go back to sleep, which was fine for Wilbur.
It kept beeping.
Wilbur apologised to the small crowd in front of him, set his guitar down against his chair, and went sprinting into the van to check on Tommy. Tommy looked exhausted, but he was still alive.
"Tommy, are you okay?" Wilbur was relieved to see Tommy looking up at him.
Tommy's voice was weak, and barely a whisper when he responded, "Yeah, I'm okay, just tired."
It hit Wilbur like a brick wall. Tommy was dying, actively dying. At a guess, Wilbur could say Tommy had mere hours to live. He had to get them home, quick. Wilbur rushed to pack up his guitar, chair, and everything else he'd taken outside. He texted Phil to say that he was coming home early, and to get in contact with Tommy's parents, because he was fairly sure Tommy would die quickly after getting home.
He didn't cry as he drove, as much as he wanted to. He needed to see the road, otherwise he'd be pulled over for reckless driving. The alarm system stayed in place, but the phone was put closer to Tommy so he didn't have to reach as far to turn it off.
The worst case scenario happened as they were an hour away from home.
"Wilbur, can you pull over?"
Wilbur almost crashed in his desperation to get off the main road and into a place where he could park safely. He unbuckled his seat belt and almost barrelled through the wall separating his "living" area and his driving area. Wilbur took one of Tommy's hands in his own, crouching down next to the bed.
"I have to tell you something." Wilbur could barely hear Tommy because his voice was so weak. "I lied when I said I thought I had a few weeks left."
No, no this couldn't be happening. Not now, not when they were so close to home. It was selfish, but Wilbur wished Tommy could just hang on to life until he got home, and Phil could help him process this. Phil, that's who he needed, he could help. Wilbur made a grab for his phone and called Phil as quickly as he could, and almost sobbed with relief when Phil was quick to answer the call.
"Phil, please tell me Tommy's parents are with you." His voice was shaking as he pleaded with Phil. He traced small circles into the palm of Tommy's hand with his thumb, trying to calm both himself and Tommy.
"They are, what's wrong, Wilbur?" Phil's voice was too calm, much too calm for the severity of the situation.
"It's Tommy, he's–" Wilbur cut himself off. He couldn't bring himself to voice the fact that his brother was dying. Tommy was far too young to be dying, to be leaving everyone he loved. He'd not lived his full life, he couldn't die. "I want Tommy to talk to his parents."
Phil's voice became strained, as if he was doing his best to stay calm for Wilbur, "Yeah, I can pass them the phone."
Wilbur passed the phone over to Tommy, who took it and held it close to his head. He could only hear one part of the conversation, but he wished he didn't have to.
"Hey, dad–" pause– "No, I'm not in pain–" yet another pause– "I'm comfortable–" yet again, pause– "Yeah, I saw most of what we planned to see." When he looked at Wilbur, there were tears glistening in his eyes, and he was silent for longer this time.
"I love you dad, can you pass the phone over to mum so I can talk to her?" Tommy paused again, and seemingly had to hold back tears before he spoke again, "Yeah, I love you too mum, I promise I'm comfortable. I'll see you later."
That last part had to be a force of habit, because every party involved knew Tommy wouldn't live that long. He was going to die in this van, and Wilbur couldn't do anything to change that. Tommy passed the phone back to Wilbur, curling up to sleep again, and Wilbur could've cried when he heard Phil's voice again.
"Wil, how far are you from home?"
"One hour." Wilbur tried to control the shaking in his voice, but he knew that Phil knew he wasn't calm at all, even if he was trying to be.
"Try and drive home, I know it'll be hard, but I'll stay on the phone with you." Wilbur desperately wanted to stay with Tommy as he died, but the further he got home now, the less time there would be before he could get to Phil.
"Okay." Wilbur sniffed, set an alarm on Tommy's phone for 30 minutes, then took his phone with him to the driver's seat. He set the phone on the dashboard, started up the car, and began to drive.
He drove in silence, Phil stayed quiet, and even the radio in the car stopped sputtering between stations. All Wilbur could hear was Tommy's irregular breathing as he slept, and that was better than nothing. He was driving on autopilot for a long time, and didn't notice the lack of noise until the alarm went off.
The alarm rang, and rang, and rang some more. Tommy wasn't alive to shut it off anymore.
The realisation had Wilbur struggling to see the road in front of him, and he couldn't answer Phil when he asked why there was an alarm going off. It hurt too much to say that he knew Tommy was dead. He looked at Tommy's body, lying curled up as he usually was when he slept in the van. From this angle, he could just be sleeping, and Wilbur hated it.
When he got home, Phil was waiting for him outside, alongside Tommy's parents, and surprisingly, Techno. He didn't want to face Tommy's parents, he didn't want to look them in the eye and tell them that Tommy, their son, his brother, was dead. Taking his time, Wilbur went into the back of his van and picked up Tommy's cold body.
He got out of the van, his eyes trained on the floor. He heard a light gasp from Phil as he stepped out from the side door, and he couldn't bring himself to look up. Feeling Tommy's weight being lifted from his arms, he tried to hold on to him, trying to cling onto any last hope that Tommy was still alive, but heard Phil's voice reassuring him that it was okay.
He was guided into the house by a warm arm, was sat down, and a warm drink was thrust into his hands. Nobody forced him to talk and he was thankful for it. Instead, he unlocked his phone, opened the gallery, and passed it to Phil to give to Tommy's parents. When Tommy had Wilbur's phone to turn off the alarm, he'd taken hundreds of photos out of the van windows, along with a few pictures of Wilbur himself as he was driving. Then there were the pictures of the two boys at the places they visited: them recreating the famous Beatles photo on Abbey Road, Tommy trying to make himself look taller than Wilbur at the Clifton Suspension Bridge, and, of course, them singing together as they watched the sunset.
He couldn't bear to look at the photos yet, not when everything was too fresh. But he supposed he should let Tommy's parents see the last recorded memories of their son. It was the least he could do. Everything felt too raw, and Wilbur had stayed calm for as long as he needed to. Tears began streaming down his cheeks, and he let out a strangled sob into Phil's shoulder, who simply hugged him tight, and let him cry.
***
It had been a few weeks since Tommy had died, and now, funeral plans were being made. Wilbur hadn't gone back to his van in those weeks, wanting to stay in town, at least until Tommy's funeral.
The truth was that Wilbur didn't think he could stomach driving his van again, not when the memory of knowing that Tommy was dead in the back of the van and not being able to do anything about it was still too fresh. Instead, he'd moved back into his old room, turned his map to face the wall, and stayed with the familiarity of his family, the comfort of Phil's hugs, and the safety of Techno's general presence.
Now, Tommy's parents were inviting him to help with the funeral plans. Wilbur had promised Tommy that he would help them with it, so he did. Wilbur made sure to mention the conversation the two boys had while watching the sunset; the song they had performed together. After watching the video, Tommy's parents had agreed that they would play it at his funeral. Wilbur wasn’t ready for that.
Everything in the past few weeks had gone by in such a blur that Wilbur thought he was watching his life go by in fast-forward, as if he wasn’t actually in control of his mourning. The day he began helping to plan Tommy’s funeral was the day he started gaining back control of his life, as Tommy’s parents wanted Wilbur to speak at his funeral, which was something Wilbur couldn’t just do on autopilot.
He spent weeks coming up with what he wanted to say, choosing his words as carefully as when he wrote his songs. In his mind, every word had to have some meaning, he had to honour Tommy’s memory with everything he said, and he couldn’t waste time waffling about meaningless shit.
The day of the funeral came, and Wilbur was one of the first to arrive. It was agreed he would be the last to speak, and as he finished his speech, the recording of him and Tommy singing together would begin to play. He didn’t know whether he was ready to watch that recording back again, but he’d have to pull himself together for it. Tommy’s parents had told him that it was okay if he cried while speaking, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to be vulnerable like that in front of so many people.
Several other people gave speeches about Tommy, including two boys Wilbur had never met before, one short with bleached hair, and the other tall with split-dyed black and white hair. Both boys talked about their friendship with Tommy throughout high school, and their reconnection with him during his final days, when he got back in contact with them to talk about the road trip he was going on with his brother. They were talking about Wilbur, Tommy had talked about Wilbur as his brother to his friends. Something about that made Wilbur feel slightly happier.
Once everyone else had spoken, he took a deep breath and got up to the podium, Phil and Techno giving him encouraging glances. Holding back tears, he began to speak:
“Most of you here won’t know my relation to Tommy, but he was, and still is, my brother, even in death. Perhaps it wasn’t a bond recognised by law, but that doesn’t mean it was any less substantial than the relationships everyone else here held with him. A lot of my childhood memories were made with him, and that is the way I will continue to remember him; an annoying little brother, but an amazing friend.” Wilbur paused to smile fondly. “In some of his final days, Tommy got back in contact with me through my father, and we planned and went on a road trip around England to cross one last item off his bucket list. During that road trip, we visited a lot of historical sites around the country, and I couldn’t have been happier to spend that trip with Tommy. The last thing we did together was perform a song, which we recorded, and will play when I finish speaking.”
Now for the bit Wilbur really didn’t want to say. “I was there with him when he died. He spent the last hour of his life slipping in and out of consciousness, and his last words weren’t spoken to me, but to his parents, who I managed to get in contact with before he died. “See you later”, which, for those who believe in an afterlife, he will. Some of us may see him again very soon, but some of us may have to wait much longer. Until then, we can hold his memory close to our hearts, and–” tears started streaming down his cheeks, and his voice began to waver– “Remember, nothing lasts forever. Everything must come to an end eventually, even if it does come sooner than expected. Tommy was a good kid, gone from our lives too soon.”
With that, Wilbur bowed his head at the audience slightly and stepped down from the podium, his legs wobbling as he walked back to his seat, where Phil put one hand around his shoulders as he began to cry. Distantly, he could hear his own voice counting him and Tommy in, but he didn’t care. He watched as people went up to say their goodbyes to Tommy, and by the time Phil helped him up by the shoulders, the song was coming to an end, and through the fog clouding his thoughts, Wilbur faintly heard the final lyric.
“Saline solution to all your… problems.”