Chapter Text
This was starting to kill him – no, not his brother, but Techno himself. Tommy, his brother, was always dying.
Tommy might have been sick, weak, and vulnerable, but that never took away his sass and outgoing personality. And that was just the cherry on top of the whole thing. An annoying, sick brother...
It was hard to believe that less than five months ago, Techno had finished mandatory school and, not surprisingly, had received a full scholarship to attend college in London for whatever career he chose to pursue.
“You’re a smart one,” his teacher had claimed. “You’ll get wherever you aim to.”
Life was looking great, then a specific accident came along. Techno had blocked out most of it until the funeral, which involved something about his mother, a street at night, and a drunk driver.
His life had been perfectly arranged, and just as fast, God tore it all apart.
Tommy hadn’t attended the funeral; it wasn’t like he could. He was practically bedridden.
Ah, yes, Tommy.
Tommy was Techno’s little brother. Being brothers pretty much meant nothing. To Techno, since he’d rather call Tommy a…problem. Techno was polite enough not to.
Why would he be such a problem? Tommy has a disease that left him with no immune system; even a single atom of pollen could send him to his tomb.
That was okay for Techno, though; his mother took care of Tommy, and he’d be going to university.
Oh, right, not anymore, ha-ha. Now, like, there was nobody else to take care of Tommy apart from Techno; he couldn’t go to university. Boring.
Well, he could go. He could get a full-time nanny, leave his brother to his luck with her, and forget about both of them entirely.
But there came another problem: Tommy was always sick because they couldn’t afford a completely desensitised room, not even when their mother was around. Now that it was only Techno and Tommy, they could barely afford all the medicines Tommy needed. And in no way a nanny.
So here was Techno, avoiding answering the university's emails, which had a time limit of a few weeks from now. He couldn’t bring himself to actually put into words that his little brother was holding him back from achieving all he had planned.
His little brother was a burden in Techno’s life.
…
"There are your pills," Techno said in a flat tone and pressed the cup onto the bedside table, leaning back into the chair next to Tommy’s bed.
And from the way Tommy’s nose scrunched, here we went again. Tommy had this habit of refusing whatever medication he was put on, even if he knew it was useless to protest, since he’d have to take it eventually. It was better when he took it at the right time. How did their mother manage for so long?
“Don’t just stare at the wall. Take them.” Techno took Tommy’s wrist and instead forced the cup into his hand. Tommy growled back and yanked himself away from Techno’s grip, taking the cup with him.
Techno groaned annoyedly. “Why do you always have to be so much of a nuisance when it comes to this?” He recoiled his hand from Tommy as if he might bite if he got too close. Knowing Tommy, that was completely a possibility.
At least Tommy actually looked over to Techno now.
Their relationship was always…rocky, we could say. Tommy needed a lot of attention to live, which left the minimum amount for Techno.
When Tommy had just been born, practically dying, Techno had always complained about how their parents didn’t even look his way anymore. He was an angsty kid back then, anyway. He might have overreacted.
“What if I just don’t take them for a day?” Whined Tommy, turning too sharply back to stare at the wall, which made his head hurt just a bit.
“I won’t die for that.” Muttered Tommy.
“You will.” Answered Techno.
Tommy gave up and, with some little curses under his breath, finally took the pills. They always tasted horrid when he just left them in his mouth for a second too long, so he gulped them down as fast as he could.
After a moment of silence, Tommy said, “You’re so annoying.” With no actual heat behind the words.
But that made something in Techno click into place, and not in a good way. A muscle in his jaw tensed as he stood up so suddenly that even the chair screeched in protest.
“You know, I could just leave you here, alone, with some stranger who doesn’t know how you like your tea. One that doesn’t even know your name.” That was a lie; they were poor. But Techno thought that fear could be a beneficial teacher, somehow.
Techno knew he was being childish for saying those words in such a harsh tone. But the past months had been stressful enough that it felt as if he had been hiding all the stress under the rug, and now it looked like a full mountain under it.
Tommy turned his eyes to Techno without moving his head. He just stared at him with wide eyes. The always-present dark circles under his slightly sunken eyes highlighted Tom’s shocked look.
“You wouldn’t leave me with some woman…I’m too cool for that.” One truth and one lie.
Surprisingly, Tommy didn’t keep up his act; he just averted his gaze and stared down at the pill cup in his hands. Whenever he got sick, which was 355 days of the year, he was always…uncomfortable. He felt dirty, sweaty, and all the things that feel awful.
And after a second of silence, Tommy muttered,
"…It would be better if Wil were the one here instead of you.” Oh, now that struck a nerve in Techno. He made a choked sound, trying to guess what he could retort with, followed by a distressed groan.
Really, how did their mother do it? Techno wondered as he started pacing back and forth in the room, like a caged lion.
“Well, guess what? Wil left you.” Not us; Techno didn’t want to accept that all the calls he gave Wil were missed ones.
“He left you to your luck, turned away to pursue being some train station singer, and didn’t look back. And here I am, looking after family! Yet you still want that man to be here?”
Wil could be described as the brother who offered Tommy magic brownies by accident and just shrugged it off. Of course, Tommy found him way more fun than Techno, who actually wanted to keep Tommy from dying of a sneeze.
“Right now, I could be anywhere but here, but I still chose to be in this house. I can just leave, too! -" Techno was cut off just as fast.
“Then why not? Why aren’t you leaving? You always complain to me about how much of a hoarder I am, and you still stay. You’re such a hypocrite—” Tommy stopped midway to slightly coil into himself; he felt his throat itching from the inside, and he started coughing a bit aggressively.
Sometimes, Tommy wished that the doctors who discovered his illness had decided he’d suffer too much if they let him live and somehow killed him ‘accidentally’.
Medical death was always more comfortable. Tom knew that because when he was nine, a doctor gave him too much anaesthesia, and he was without a beating heart for ten minutes. It didn’t hurt; it didn’t feel like anything at all.
It felt like freedom for a second.
But then he was back, being shocked awake. It feels horrid to get brought back to life; it feels even worse when you realise you’re right back to being miserable and with a partially clogged nose.
Tom’s coughing continued, and Techno stood up, a hand hovering over Tommy’s back before sharply going back to his side; he walked out of the room to go and get him water.
Tommy hated it. He hated Techno; he hated Wil; he hated his mother; and he hated himself the most. It was his fault for being like this.
But just as soon, Techno was pushing Tommy back against the pillows, placing the water in his hand, and Tommy was slowly turning his head down to drink it between lessening coughs.
Techno settled back down, this time on the edge of the bed. He didn’t have the energy to be mad at Tommy’s attitude right now.
The silence between the two persisted, only broken by the occasional sniff from Tommy, trying to keep his running nose from, well, running.
“It was a lie,” Techno grumbled.
“What?”
“Leaving you alone with a nanny. I’m sure they wouldn’t know how you like your sheets. Or your tea.”
Tommy pressed his lips together into a thin line, leaving the glass without water on the nightstand.
Well, now Tommy felt guilty for being an annoying demon. “That’s okay. I didn’t mean the whole Wilbur part. Like, I kind of did. But not at all.”
That gained a short snort from Techno. Tommy decided to waste the last remnants of goodness in his evil and twisted heart by taking the pills that Techno had so desperately wanted him to take.
The sight of Tommy actually doing it blurred the lines in Techno’s expression.
But there was no turning back now; Tommy wasted all his goodness. And now he had to recover by being mean once again.
"You looked better with long hair.” Said Tommy with a small smirk. He smiled so little that he didn’t even have marked smile lines at all. But at least he smiled enough that it looked natural on his face.
"Oh, now we’re talking about appearance, Tommy? Do you want to talk about appearance?” Techno mused, messing up the boy's hair; Tommy weakly defended himself from the big hand.
Once brothers, always brothers. No matter how much of a nuisance any of them were to the other the rest of the time.
“...I might as well let it grow out if that’s what looks better; just don’t yank at it.” Tommy looked very disappointed at this.
…
Many people thought that days flew by when you didn’t have anything to do. That was completely and utterly wrong and untrue.
It might have sounded wonderful for some people. Oh wow! A whole life of vacations and chilling? Incredible! Well, no. It might be like that for the first two days; afterwards, one dies of boredom.
But eventually night came. Days might be long, but not eternal.
It was what, midnight? Tommy didn’t want to crook his neck and look at the clock on his nightstand. He sat up slowly, propelling himself up on his elbows.
He debated whether to go or not… Techno couldn’t exactly help him.
The problem was that he was insanely thirsty. And his usual present water bottle was god knows where. So now he was all on his own.
He could go to sleep and forget about the water until tomorrow. But something didn’t let him do so.
Maybe a distraction would help, so he opened the drawer of his nightstand and rummaged around. His heart jolted at what he caught sight of.
He grabbed the notebook from the edge – none other than Wilbur’s notebook. Tommy remembered when Wilbur used to write satire songs there and would sing them to Tommy for the fun of it.
Tommy flipped through the pages, catching sight of a few lyrics here and there. He came to a halt to sneeze on his forearm.
He opened his eyes again, sniffling, and he had stopped on a blank page. Wilbur used to jump between pages and leave a lot blank; Tommy never knew why. Maybe it was just part of Wilbur’s free spirit.
Tommy dug his hand into the drawer again before pulling out a blue glittery pen he had no idea was there before shutting it.
He yawned. Maybe drawing would help avoid the choking need for a drink.
So he mindlessly scribbled on the edges of the paper, drawing a cat with glasses, a stickman that was supposed to be Techno, and a ton of badly drawn stars.
He was an artist; what can I say?
After finishing drawing on all the edges, he straightened up to look at his masterpiece. He had technically left all the pages blank, but he didn’t concern himself with that.
His concern was that it wasn’t enough. He was now even more dehydrated. Screaming Techno’s name in the middle of the night would scare the neighbours and leave his throat sore for days.
There was no other way… He'd have to go.
Being bedridden your whole life and constantly being sick with no recovery makes you super hyper-weak. And that wasn’t for the weak. Get it? Ha…
Tommy closed the notebook and tossed it aside on his bed, and so did the glittery pen.
He shifted on the bed slightly. He was tall enough that his feet touched the floor instead of dangling off the bed.
But as soon as he pushed himself up, his knees almost buckled. Almost. He was too much of a big man to fall like some rag doll.
So what he did was worth a Nobel Prize; he dragged himself to the door by gripping the walls and furniture. He stopped at the doorframe. It was actually one of the few times he was alone AND out of his room.
Techno would probably be super mad, since only a partial part of the house was even just barely desensitised.
He continued on his arduous journey to the kitchen counter. There it was, his salvation, the water jug.
He looked around and easily spotted one of the glasses specifically for him. Techno probably spent hours scrubbing it clean or something.
Tommy moved and grabbed the glass, bringing it towards him as he leaned heavily on the counter, then gripped the jug and tilted it slowly. Thank goodness it wasn’t filled to the brim; if not, he’d probably already be on the floor, covered in water.
The glass made a thin sound as it filled up. He placed the jug down and gripped the glass of water as if it were his only lifeline.
Halfway through the glass, his eyes looked away to the living room. They had a small house in a suburban neighbourhood. It was in a private neighbourhood or something, which was probably for the best (the best meaning the best for Tommy).
Tommy’s eyes landed on Techno’s computer. Or, well, it was the family’s. But Tommy couldn’t exactly get out of bed often to use it.
So why not now? Well, Techno’s door was practically right next to the computer, and if he caught him so late up—no, not even that, if Techno even caught Tommy out of bed, he’d become a madman.
Maybe not; Techno was really unpredictable after waking up.
Tommy listened to the silence of the night to make sure Techno was in his fifth dream. Then chugged down the rest of the water and awkwardly limped to the computer right through the living room, since he didn’t want to keep dragging himself against walls.
He sat down in the chair in front of the computer. Techno called it an 'office chair’, but for Tomm, it very much looked like a gaming chair.
He let out a sigh at finally getting his aching legs a small break, then used his pointing finger to push the booting button.
After a few seconds, the computer’s screen lit up; of course, Techno had no password.
The blue predetermined background shone a faint light on Tommy’s pale face as he looked around for something to do.
When he moved the mouse and clicked on ‘create a new tab’, a message popped up that asked if he wanted to load the last opened tabs.
Tommy thought for a second before clicking yes.
A loading sign appeared for a fraction and almost instantly disappeared to show Techno’s email open. Tommy was about to change the tab to something else, maybe YouTube or some web game. He didn’t exactly want to look through Techno’s spam emails.
Well, what he saw was not exactly spam emails.
There were maybe four or five unopened emails asking for an answer, and they all were from a college in…London, the capital.
He didn’t want to open them, since maybe the next morning Techno would see them open and know someone else opened them, and it’s not like a rat could be the one who did it.
So instead, he scrolled down through a lot of other unrelated emails until he found one open from the same university.
Tommy had thought Techno had been just fooling about leaving for university because he couldn’t afford it. But Techno had a full scholarship, a place to stay, and even got offered free lunch.
And Techno still wouldn’t leave.
Tommy sank back on the chair, his shaky hand going to fidget with his fingers instead as he stared blankly at the screen.
Maybe wanting to watch YouTube wasn’t worth it.
He felt pretty well, shittily. He was actually keeping Techno from leaving. Like, actually. No puns.
The more he thought about it, the worse he felt. Now Techno has to stay home and look after him. Well, that was something he knew, but having the emails in front of his eyes was making it more difficult to brush off.
Tommy leaned forward again, scrolling down and checking if Techno had answered this email. He hadn’t. He moved the cursor up to leave the email, intending to check if there were any other emails from the college Techno had ignored.
He wasn’t even supposed to be awake; he was even less supposed to be this nosy. And what would looking around do? Tommy couldn’t exactly just tell Techno what he saw and tell him to go to college.
And he wasn’t dumb either, well, not that much. He knew they couldn’t afford for someone to take care of them.
Tommy was so absorbed in his thoughts that he’d forgotten the glass he’d left on the side of the table, and in a clumsy move, his elbow ended up knocking it off the table.
It might as well have all been in slow motion, watching how the glass, as if to sabotage him, fell to the floor. It didn’t shatter, thankfully. But it did make the loudest sound ever.
At least it was empty; no, actually, that made it a thousand times louder.
Tommy unglued his eyes from the glass to stare at Techno’s door, his hands hovering uselessly as he heard the steps of Techno’s flip-flops against the floor.
He rushed and snapped back towards the computer, trying to close the tab, failing twice, and finally achieving it when the door opened with a creak.
“Techno! Big man, what’s up?” Tommy hoped that it wasn’t physically visible how fast his heart was thumping. The light of the computer shone a gloomy white light over his face that made him look more sickly than usual.
“Tommy? What the ff…what are you doing?” Techno was, thankfully, half asleep, which was enough to keep him from going full madness mode.
“You know… Markiplier… YouTube stuff… Watching hot women …"
“You—I—“ Techno groaned and rubbed his eyes.
The silence elongated into a void; the only sound was the muffled buzzing of the fridge back in the kitchen.
"We'll talk about it tomorrow, nerd.” Techno messed Tommy’s hair up, then unexpectedly took Tommy’s side with one arm and raised him over his shoulder like a potato sack. Tommy yelped in surprise.
“Oi! You can’t just do that! I’m a big man. Plus, you’re probably all covered in germs and shit. I could die!”
“You could, but that’d be something to think about tomorrow.” Techno learned that thinking too hard about things with a sick brother just made everything worse.
So he evolved and learned not to think too hard.
Techno carried Tommy like he weighed nothing. He was a very scrawny kid anyway. Soon, Techno stepped into Tommy’s room and dropped Tommy onto his bed playfully, not even batting an eye at the complaints from Tommy.
“Treating the sick like this? You’re wicked.” Tommy muttered as he crossed his arms.
“Oh, look at me, I’m Tommy; I’m so mistreated by the person who literally keeps me alive.” Feigned Techno. Tommy didn’t like that at all.
“Well, people in charge of you can still be evil! Like you, you’re evil, really evil!”
“Whatever you say, anti-germ freak.” Nonetheless, even after insulting him, Techno eased Tommy under the sheets. After accommodating Tommy, he caught sight of the notebook sprawled on the side of the bed.
Techno knew that notebook.
He hesitated before reaching out for it, and eyeing the front, it was covered in fading stickers, black marker writings, and many weird stains.
“Where’d you get this?” He asked while eyeing the pages, then looking back down at Tommy.
Tommy tried to look nonchalant. Why did that question sound so much like an accusation? “It was in the drawer. Where else would it be?”
“I thought Wilbur had taken it with him.”
“Ah.”
The silence stretched while Techno still stared at the pages with an unreadable expression, and then he dropped it down on top of the nightstand, turning on his heel to head to the door.
“Don’t stay up. Night, Tommy.” Mumbled techno before dissolving behind the door.
Techno was oddly nice today. Well, nicer than the detached and fragile way he usually treated Tommy. Such a shame; it’d probably be back to being like it always was tomorrow.
Tommy thought back to the emails he had seen. He felt oddly guilty. He shouldn’t be; he didn’t fault for being like this.
But he did.
No, he didn’t.
He experienced this inner fight far too often.
Tommy sank into his pillow; he felt too lazy to turn off the lamp on the nightstand. Tommy thought about his whole life. It couldn’t be called 'life' at all; it was just a blur of hospitals, vomiting, weird fever dreams, and being in his bed all day.
He liked to daydream about being a normal kid. Not one who had to beware of the smallest germ. He dreamt of running outside with his friends, if he ever got any. He wished to be able to eat grass and bugs and not die in three seconds.
He wanted a life. He wanted to give Techno a life, too.
He shifted back up. He was actually getting worn out, but he didn’t mind it at all right now. He reached out for the notebook and then for his pen that was still sitting on the edge of the bed. It was a bit humiliating to say that he got tired of doing only that.
He flipped through the pages to where he had been doodling before. Like he left the actual page clear, he decided to write down whatever.
But he couldn’t just write down stupid stuff that made no sense, nor write death wishes to all germs on earth.
He thought back to his wishes. What he wanted to do, what he wanted to do for himself. What he wished to be able to do every day.
So he wrote a big heading with his glittery blue ink; the ink flowed down as he knitted his brow together. Yes, that’s how concentrated he was.
Nonetheless, the big, chunky letters looked bad, so he tried to disguise them by filling them in.
He pulled back, realising he was leaning far too close to the paper.
TOMMY-INNIT’S AWESOME TO-DO LIST.
No, ‘awesome’ was an understatement… Tommy didn’t know what an understatement meant.
TOMMY-INNIT’S TO-DO LIST.
Perfect. Briefness was key, or so Wilbur used to say.
Now he had to guess what he wanted to do.
He’d never really travelled anywhere; where could he go? Well, Wilbur always told him about the forests and mountains. But that sounded really tiresome.
Tommy really liked the idea of nature, even if it could kill him.
See the sea
The sea couldn’t be that awful. He could make sandcastles, like in the cartoons, and drown or something.
Go to a garden
The flowers from the girl next door always looked lovely. But whenever it was spring, the pollen made Tommy’s allergies unbearable. He wanted to smell flowers, even sneeze at the pollen, without having his throat close up.
Have a picnic at a park.
Tommy always saw the local park whenever Techno drove him to the hospital, which was nearly weekly. He had seen many people lying over patterned sheets and eating. He wanted to go to a park and eat, maybe even a nutty pizza.
Make a friend (maybe ten)
The one thing Tommy actually envied in others was friends. The people he met in Roblox were always odd. So he couldn’t exactly make an actual bond with them. And they probably were like 50.
Be at a concert
Now, we were nearing mortal stuff. People were yucky. Sneezing, coughing, covering each other with germs…
But they didn’t get sick as easily and dangerously as Tommy did; he wanted that. To not fear being near others and exposed to potential infections. And Wilbur always talked about the metal concerts he used to go to with Techno. Tommy didn’t exactly prefer metal, though.
Go to London
Tommy recalled that Techno’s university was there. He could go with him, and they could tour it. Maybe they’d even let Tommy live in the dorms with Techno or something.
Don’t die trying
The most important one out of them all. Or maybe not; maybe dying would finally free him.
But all of this wasn’t possible; a daydream stays a daydream. Or should we call it a night-dream? Since it was late already. But hey, dreaming was free.
Tommy stared at the paper sitting in his lap like it was a dead cockroach. The empathy is barely existent, but still there. Why would he feel guilty for his own goals? Maybe he didn’t even want to do anything on this list. He just came up with all of it on the spot.
“Stupid body…” Mumbled Tommy to himself, as if wishing that whatever went wrong with him heard him and got so offended it went away.
It didn’t happen, of course.
Tommy stuck the page back inside the notebook and threw it a bit too aggressively towards the nightstand, but that strength ended up making the book slide right past and fall onto the floor beside it.
“Are you kidding me?” He groaned while leaning back in his bed and passing a hand over his face. He was not getting up to put it in its place. Not tonight, anyway.
Maybe he should listen to Techno and go to sleep; if not, tomorrow he'll be a zombie way more than he already is.
So he did; he reached out to click the lamp off, slithering down until the sheets reached his chin and staring straight up at the roof while wondering what could’ve been.
He did that enough times already.
So he closed his eyes and let sleep take him whole.