Work Text:
Tommy Innit Danger Kraken Craft wasn't scared of anything.
If you asked him if he was scared of anything, he'd laugh in your face and deny it before probably stealing your wallet and shoes. He would have stolen them anyways, mind you, but the addition of the question just gave him a little bit of comedy first.
He was twelve, he had no reason to be scared of anything.
And, even if he was scared of something, thunder and lightning would absolutely not be on that list.
Only babies were scared of something like that, and he was the farthest thing possible from that. That's why he was allowed to be home alone, because he wasn't a little kid anymore.
His brother had a fencing tournament or something, and he really didn't feel like sitting still for that long in a room full of boring asshole when he could stay home and play video games.
Then the rain started, though, and the power wasn't really on for much longer after the wind picked up.
But he was fine, despite what him cowering in his closet would lead you to believe.
His instincts were telling him to go hide in someone else's room, but he would rather die than have them come home to find him there, so pretending his closet was a den somewhere else would have to do.
He used to hide in there alot more, when he'd first gotten there, but now it was only reserved for when he was by himself and wanted to curl up in the dark.
When he wanted to feel safe.
Every clap of thunder sent him further into the corner, and he was really regretting not charging his phone up more.
In his defense, he'd had it plugged in, but it was still only on about eleven percent when the lights went out and had died fully in the last few hours while he'd been waiting for the power to come back.
Tommy was not scared, and because he wasn't scared, he also didn't have tear tracks down his cheeks from when the storm had been far worse about an hour ago. And he also wasn't thankful that the markings on his face from his hybrid features hid that fairly easy.
His tail was curled around him, but that's just because it was annoying to have behind him; not to give him some form of comfort.
He ended up falling asleep in there at some point, and he woke up in the morning with a blanket thrown over him and the closet door cracked open. No one made any comments about it to him, and the power was back on, so he decided that it didn't particularly matter that he'd spent the night being not scared in his closet.
~-~
Tommy Craft wasn't scared of anything.
Except maybe some of the seniors at his school, but that was completely reasonable. He was only a freshman, and half of those guys looked like they already had about six kids and a mortgage.
He wasn't scared of anything, and that's why he was completely fine and heating up some leftover pizza despite the rain pounding on the side of the house. He wasn't jumping every time there was some thunder, and the fur on his tail was completely normal and not standing on end as he made the artistic choice to avoid looking at any of the windows.
He just had to get back to his room, then he could put his headphones back on and completely ignore it.
Not that he cared about the rain, he was just irritated that he hadn't been invited along to the 'school spirit' even his brothers were at and wanted to play some minecraft or something to distract himself.
Phil was working late, so he was stuck there alone as the storm outside only got worse. He could handle it, though; Tommy was a big man.
He was almost fourteen, so he had no excuse to be anxious about something as dumb as rain. Honestly, he found it funny that it was raining as bad as it was, hoping it flooded out the field or whatever of the event his brothers had gone to.
The microwave had a few seconds left on it, but the noise signaling it going off never got to sound.
An incredibly bright flash happened outside, followed by a ridiculously loud boom of thunder that made Tommy curl up in a ball on the floor as the room went dark. He sat there with his tail wrapped around himself until his heart rate calmed back down, taking deep breaths as he used the countertop to support his weight.
Tommy wasn't scared, just startled. There's a difference there.
He entirely forgot about the pizza he had in the microwave, rushing back to his room and going to hide in his closet again.
Not hiding, actually, just... It was comfortable in there, and it muffled some of the sound.
He let out a few stressed chitters, shaking some as he made the very familiar motion of pressing himself in the furthest corner he could manage with all of the shit he had crammed in there.
His phone was going off from his desk, and he had no intentions to go get it. Not until the lights came back on, anyways.
Which thankfully happened relatively quick, only about an hour passing before he could see it seeing in under the door and deemed it alright for him to exit the closet.
Wilbur had tried calling him a few times while he was in there, and he very expertly lied to his brother and told him he'd had headphones on and hadn't heard his phone.
~-~
Tommy was not scared of thunder.
Anyone who says otherwise is a liar and he would sue them for slander.
The worst part of it was that he knew his family was downstairs, and he could have very easily gone down there to wait out the storm with them.
It wasn't a particularly bad one, but the thunder was pretty loud whenever lighting managed to make contact with the ground.
And yes, while his father and brothers were downstairs, he didn't want to go down there; no matter how much his stupid raccoon instincts were screaming at him to do so.
They thought he was already asleep, if he went back down it'd be clear he was only doing so because of the storm. And he wasn't scared of the storm, so he couldn't go downstairs to ignore it.
That left the closet, and he made a mental note to clean it out at some point after nearly knocking something down and making a mess just to fit in there. If he were normal, it wouldn't really matter, but of course he had to crawl in there to hide from something as stupid as thunder.
Wait, no, not hiding; he was just moving to a better spot to sleep.
Yeah, the closet was comfortable.
Despite him being curled up in a tight ball with his ears pressed back against the top of his head.
It was optimal, peak sleeping location. Benefits included a lack of light, muffled sound from anything outside, safety...
Really, only the back part of his brain liked the closet, but he really didn't care about that when the alternative option was being able to hear the rain pounding against the window and distant rumbling in the sky.
He was eventually able to get properly comfortable, his long limbs folded up as he laid in a sort of 'L' shape wedged between the walls.
Someone knocked on his door at some point, but whoever it was probably figured he was asleep by that point and left almost as soon as they'd gotten there.
~-~
Tommy may have been scared of storms.
Well, maybe not 'storms' specifically; more the stuff that came with them.
The loud and annoying stuff like wind and thunder.
He was sixteen, and he could admit to himself that he wasn't the biggest fan of that stuff. Not that he liked that fact, it made him feel like a child to even consider that he was afraid of something as little as the sky choosing to piss on people.
And yet here he was, curled up in the corner of his closet after the power had gone out and wishing more than anything in the world that the thunder outside would stop.
The only other person home was Wilbur, and he was busy with some university thing in his room, so Tommy was left to deal with this himself as he tried to rationalize his way out of the closet.
Although that was very obviously a losing battle, since no matter how close he was to getting out, he was cramming himself in the corner again as soon as there was even a hint of change in the storm outside.
He was letting out a string of scared chitters as he sat there shivering, definately just cold and not getting even more worked up over the situation.
The door to the closet opened after he'd been in there for a while, and Tommy looked up to see very clear concern on his brother's face.
The raccoon hybrid cleared his throat, sitting up straight as he tried to pretend he wasn't still shaking like a leaf. "The fuck do you want?"
"... Are you alright?"
"Why the fuck wouldn't I be?"
The piglin let out an exasperated squeal. "Tommy, I could hear you from the fucking hallway."
"No you couldn't."
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing-", there was a loud crash of thunder outside, making him jump before he continued speaking, "I'm fine."
"I don't believe you, for some reason,", Wilbur moved so he was sitting down in front of him in the doorway of the closet.
"It's because you're old, your brain is all scrambled and shit."
"Why don't you ever make the old jokes at Techno?"
"Because he's not old."
"We are literally the same age."
"He doesn't act old like you do."
"The absolute nerve of you."
"Cry."
They sat there staring at eachother for a while, neither saying anything as they made incredibly uncomfortable eye contact. The power was still out, and as the storm outside picked up, Tommy wasn't able to stop his tail from puffing up again as he tried to keep from freaking out again while his brother was still there.
"Don't you have some shit to do?", he asked, regretting saying anything at all when his voice wavered.
"Can't really work on it with the power out, it's all online shit."
"Surely you can find something better to do than sitting on my bedroom floor fucking mouth breathing at me."
"Do you want me to go?"
Tommy didn't give him an answer, and Wilbur took the prolonged silence as his sign that it was alright for him to continue sitting there with him.
"How often do you do this still?"
Tommy's ears pressed back against his head in irritation. "Do what?"
"Go into your closet when you're scared."
"I'm not scared."
"Right, that's why you keep flinching whenever there's even a hint of lighting."
"Fuck off. You're not allowed to be in my room if you're only here to bully me."
"I'm not bullying you,", Wilbur sighed, "Like I said, I heard you fucking squeaking to yourself in here from the hall, I'm trying to figure out what caused it."
"I don't fucking 'squeak'."
"You make rat noises, because you're a little rat child."
"Right, that's it, you're not welcome here now; leave me the fuck alone."
"Do you really want-"
"Yes, if you're going to call me a fucking rat. I'm not- It's not funny right now, just go the fuck away."
"Sorry, I suppose I should read the situation better,", he waited for another moment before standing, letting out a concerned chuff once he was on his feet again, "I'll give you your space, if that's what you want. I'll be downstairs, alright?"
He went to walk away, not actually getting very far since Tommy lunged forward to grab his pantleg. "Wait."
"Yeah?"
Tommy swallowed an incredibly large lump in his throat, also his pride, and did his best to force more words out. "Stay, please."
Wilbur looked down at him, a small smile on his face as he got on the floor again. "I'm not going anywhere."
Tommy pressed himself into his brother's side as soon as he was settled, taking deep breaths to calm himself down again.
Wilbur's arm was around his shoulders, and the piglin was making a quiet purr that vibrated his chest.
That definately helped, and he was able to relax next to his brother as he focused on that rather than the storm.
"If you tell anyone about this, I will personally go into your room and rip up any paper I can find,", Tommy muttered, the entirety of his weight going against Wilbur.
"Noted, I'll be sure to hide anything of value if I choose to tell Phil about this."
"You better fucking not, I'll still find it."
Wilbur let out an amused huff, scratching the space between Tommy's ears. "Sure you will."
"I mean it,", he yawned, eyes half lidded, "None of your shit will be safe from me."
"I totally believe you."
"You're a bitch."
"Mhm."
Tommy woke up in his bed the next day, and there was no mention of what happened from his brother or anyone else.