Receeding Tides (mcyt)

Chapter 20

When Tommy awoke, Dream was still unconscious, and those who were conscious sat idly by nonchalantly chit chatting. Sunlight burned his eyes worse than his mobile phone, and Tommy grunted pulling Wilbur's coat over his face. It didn't help. Light still streaked through the thinning, damaged fabric. It helped even less when Wilbur pulled it off of him. Laughing. What a bitch.

"Good morning to you too."

Tommy whined, "Wilby, stop it. I wanna sleep. How the hell are you in my house?"

"Tommy, it's like, midday," Philza chuckled, '"We're in not even indoors right now."

"That means I can sleep another hour."

He lunged for the coat, but Wilbur dangled it over his head teasingly leaving him with minuscule shade and zero protection from the sun. Tommy glared at the jacket and sat up reaching again for its warmth. Before he could grab it though, Wilbur dropped a box of granola bars on his lap.

Tommy groaned, "Fuck man, that hurt."

Wilbur ignored the boy's words, "Eat now. Sleep later."

"Arse."

The half-opened box was passed around the circle, and Tommy ate his staling granola in bitter silence listening to his friends' conversations. The granola left a freezer burn-like taste in Tommy's mouth, and he resisted the urge to spit it out. At least it was better than Dream's month-old, raw tuna, but then again, there were a lot of things that were better than expired canned fish.

"How is he?" he asked.

They all knew who Tommy meant.

Phil glanced worried at the unmoving couple, "I don't think George is doing that good, man. He refused food again just now."

"Yeah," Niki agreed, "I thought he'd moved past it but he's still really stressed about Dream's um... health."

"I would be too. I mean, look at him," Wilbur added, "The guy looks like a corpse."

Dream laid deathly still. His chest barely rose and fell, but he did look slightly more alive if that counted for anything. George sat asleep with his chin resting on his hand. He probably would have a mark on his leg from where his elbow rested. George himself seemed thinner, less alive. Like the events in the last 20 hours robbed him of his well-being and given it into Dream. Only, he needed more than George could spare.

Tommy crawled to where Dream laid. He glared over him disapprovingly and pounded the side of his fist on the man's chest. TommyInnit reappeared cussing out the unconscious.

"Dream, you sick son of a bitch! You promised-"

"Tommy what the hell are you doing?" Nikki shrieked pulling him up and away.

"Let me go!"

He practically de-aged to a child. Something he always thought he'd never do. Tommy kicked and screamed in protest. A flailing fist collided with Niki's nose. She groaned as blood poked out from her left nostril, and she involuntarily released him. A now awoken George shielded Dream's head from the boy. Both visibly shaken by everything happening. He watched as Tommy wailed wild swears at Dream.

"You arse!" he screamed again now struggling against Wilbur's arms.

Tommy wasn't thinking. At all. He writhed in the arms holding him back, and he kicked and screamed for Wilbur to let him go. All he thought to do was lash out.

"Wil, get off of me!"

Wilbur held him tighter, "Tommy. Tommy, calm."

The boy slowly stopped struggling and relaxed unwillingly exhausted in the arms that held him. Wilbur murmured comforting words only for Tommy to hear.