21: Stuck

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"It's only for two weeks." Phil repeated firmly as his boys handed over all their electronic devices. It didn't feel like it would only be two weeks. It felt like it was the end of the world.

The house they were brought to was smaller than their real home with Phil. One story, with only two bedrooms, so they would have to share. The living room was shared by the kitchen, and both were too small to comfortably share the space while doing different things. The backyard wasn't too bad, but they weren't allowed to go out there without an escort, and leaving the house itself was strictly forbidden.

And yeah, Techno understood what was at stake, and he wasn't about to break the rules. But god, did he want to. Three days in and he was already feeling homicidal. And if Tommy complained about the lack of internet one more time--

"Wilbur." Phil said flatly as he stepped into the livingroom.

"Hm." Wilbur hummed thoughtlessly, staring at the ceiling from where he lay, sprawled on the floor.

"What are you doing?" Phil came to stop by his eldest child, staring down at him.

"Having a crisis." Wilbur said flatly, his eyes hooked on a crack in the paint.

"Just leave him, he's being a bitch." Tommy said, sounding more bored than ever before. He was sitting on the couch, watching free to air tv, because they weren't allowed to have Netflix or even Youtube. He was not pleased.

"Fuck off Tommy." Wilbur retorted emotionlessly.

"I was just trying to read before you all started making noise." Techno deadpanned from the solitary lounge chair, glancing up through his glasses with distaste. It wasn't even a book that he was interested in. Some teenage romance novel that had been here when they had arrived. There was little else to do.

"Sorry Techno, if Dad says we suffer we suffer." Tommy said sarcastically, throwing his hands up in the air in a wild shrug.

"Hey." Phil said, shaking his head. "This isn't about suffering, it's about keeping you safe. All of you."

"Bit of overkill, isn't it?" Wilbur remarked, still transfixed by the cracked paint on the ceiling.

"No." Phil said, so firmly that Techno actually looked up from his book. "It's not fucking overkill, Wilbur. It's life or death. Your life and the lives of your brothers are not a joking matter."

"This wouldn't even be happening if Tommy didn't fuckin' snitch on your job." Wilbur muttered, nose wrinkling slightly.

Silence filled the room. Techno's eyes widened. Oh, here we go.

"Tommy," Phil began, his voice so sharp that it made the young boy flinch, "You what?"

Tommy's eyes bulged out of his head. "Wilbur you absolute fucking snitch oh my god--"

Wilbur was on his feet in an instant, scowling down at his little brother. "Oh don't turn this on me you little shit, if it wasn't for your inability to keep your fucking mouth shut we wouldn't be in this stupid--"

Tommy was on his feet too, happy to get up in Wilbur's face as he let his anger out. "It's not my fault dickhead! Haven't you ever made a mistake? 'Oh, my name's Wilbur, and I don't make mistakes because I'm tall and write songs, oh, look at me!'"

"I'm actually going to fucking kill you you bastard! Oh my god, this is entirely on you, you unbelievable child--"

"Enough!" Phil shouted, putting himself between the two of them before things could escalate. Because based on past experience, they could and they would, if given the chance. "Both of you, enough!"

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