Tommyinnit Oneshots

We're Like Brothers

TW: Blood, life-threatening wounds. gun violence, swearing

Eleven years ago:

Phil had just brought another kid home. Wilbur didn't like him much. He was five, happy and loud, and also looked just like their dad. The boy's name was Tommy, and he demanded the attention of everyone around him. As obnoxious as the child seemed, no one could bring themselves to ever get truly annoyed with the boy; his smile was infectious and his laugh even more so.

Wilbur thought he was quite different from Tommy; he had always been a brooding child, locking himself in his room to write poetry that he would later turn into songs. He didn't like learning like his older brother Techno, the exception being geography. He pored over atlases and maps for hours, trying to memorize countries and terrain and learn about different cultures.

Yes, Wilbur considered himself the opposite of Tommy; he couldn't yet see how similar he and his little brother were.

One year later:

It was Tommy's sixth birthday, and the family wanted to surprise him. Wilbur, as much as he tried to seem disinterested, was as invested in the project as Phil was. Even Techno, who also tried to act bored, was a bit excited to plan it and see Tommy's reaction at his party next week.

They spent days setting everything up, making sure the surprise got here in time. It did, and between then and the party they made it their priority to make sure the surprise was dry and that Tommy didn't find it.

The day of the party rolled around. The festivities passed in a blur; the chaotic youngest child ran around the yard screaming his head off and playing with his best friend Tubbo and he looked like he was having the time of his life. Wilbur watched with affection, letting his growing feelings of brotherly love show outwardly for the first time. Even still, he had a weird reaction to the boy's never-ending happiness. He wasn't jealous, but he couldn't help but feel wistful for something he felt like he'd never had.

Finally, it was nighttime and they were ready for the surprise. Tommy sat in a chair with the best view; he had been told they had one last gift to give him and he was wiggling in excitement.

The fireworks went off, lighting the sky. All the guests oohed and aahed, except for the birthday boy. He was still wiggling in his chair- no, he was quivering. The boy shook with shivers and sobs, his eyes clouding over as memories unfolded before him, replacing the previously-happy scene. He saw the terrifying glint of the gun, saw the maniacal glint in the man's eye, saw the vibrant blood bloom on his mother's shirt after the first boom, and saw the hole that appeared in his father's skull after the second.

Wilbur was the only one who noticed the boy's reaction, and panic immediately erupted in his chest. There had never been a time the boy wasn't smiling or comically glaring. But now, his face looked empty save for the immense fear practically pouring from his thin frame.

Wilbur quietly led the boy inside. He knew how to deal with panic attacks, and did all the necessary things. He made sure Tommy knew he was there, asked if he had permission to touch him, and had him count things he could see, hear, smell, touch, and taste. By the time he had gone through the routine that Phil would do with him, Tommy had calmed down considerably. He was still shaking slightly and his eyes still looked far away, but he could respond to Wilbur and most importantly, breathe normally.

"Toms, do you wanna talk about it?" Wilbur asked gently. He had made the connection between the fireworks and Tommy's panic and was worried that something in his past triggered it.

"It was the- the guns. They shot- I can't-" To keep Tommy from breaking down again, Wilbur shushed him and rocked him in his arms.

It took about an hour for Tommy to be relatively back to normal. In that time, Wilbur stayed away from talking about Tommy's past and instead told him stories about his own life, and his struggle with panic attacks, hoping it would distract the boy.