Tommyinnit Oneshots

Let's Go Home

A/N - Speedran this and ignored my homework because I was so excited. Thank you so much to WhyAndWhoTheFuck for the prompt! They asked for the SBI reacting to Tommy's PTSD.

TW: PTSD, aversion to touch, nightmares, flashbacks, swearing, slight themes of suicide

The first time Phil saw something was wrong was when he went to pat Tommy's shoulder. He had missed out on so much time being a father to his youngest, and while he could never get those years back, he could try his hardest to be a good role model for the boy.

A little over half an hour ago, he had looked out the kitchen window to see a swooping figure in the sky, and after a belated second, he realized it was Tommy. He hadn't seen Tommy fly, or even seen his wings, in so long, and his heart was brimming at the sight. He had always felt connected to Tommy by those wings, and it felt nice to see him using them instead of hiding them, like maybe their relationship was changing. Phil hoped so.

After watching for a few minutes, he realized his son was trying to perfect a particular dive. A while later, he looked out again to see Tommy perform it wonderfully, his graceful wings hitting the wind just right, a gorgeous dive to the ground with wings tucked perfectly into his back, and a final, well-timed unfold as he swooped along the ground low enough to brush his fingers across the blades of grass. 

As he went outside to congratulate his son, he saw him land with an excited whoop, his arms shooting into the sky. 

He came up behind him and put his hand down heavily on his shoulder. He wanted to tell his son how well he had done, but he didn't have a chance before the shoulder beneath him froze, then twitched, and suddenly Tommy was four feet away, a terrified look on his face as his shoulders drew into his neck and his breathing got quick and shallow. 

"Tommy, it's just me, bud. You alright? I didn't mean to scare you there," He chuckled. His son didn't meet his eyes, only gulped and kept them trained to the ground. His arms were tight around his chest for protection as he slipped past Phil without a word, heading inside. He watched his son go through the door, a familiar ache in his heart as he wondered what he had done wrong.

On the second floor of the house, Techno and Wil looked out the window as the interaction unfolded, concerned about their baby brother.

- 

The second time Wilbur saw something was wrong was when he heard a scream in the night. That scream had been keeping him company in his nightmares, and he instantly recognized it as Tommy's. 

He rushed to his younger brother's room, desperately hoping he wasn't hurt, to see him quivering on the bed, a comforter wrapped tightly around his shoulders. 

"Tommy?" He said softly, closing the door behind him with a gentle click. The boy didn't respond, but his breath got quicker and Wilbur swore he heard quiet whimpers in the dark.

"Please... please don't hurt me."

"Tommy, it's Wilbur. It's your older brother. I'm not going to hurt you, I promise." Wilbur slowly reached for the bedside lamp, pulling the chain and letting the soft orange light fall across the room, making it warmer somehow. The light showed that his brother was unharmed, just spooked, which brought Wilbur great relief.

"Wilby," Tommy finally whispered into the silence, sniffling. "Yeah, it's me, bubba. Did you have a nightmare?" He asked. "Yeah," The boy responded, wiping his nose on the blanket he clutched with a white fist. "'S stupid."

"Hey, I can promise you it's not stupid. Nightmares are very, very scary. I get them too, and it's okay to be frightened."

Tommy peered up at him with red eyes, and Wilbur hated how his brother had trained himself to never be vulnerable. "Would you like to talk about it?" He asked. "No," Tommy whispered into the sheets. "I just..."