Tommyinnit Oneshots (With SBI)

Why Are You Proud of Me? (Tommy and Wilbur)

Wilbur POV

I could hardly believe it, I just published a new album. I sat in my room, attempting to wrap my brain about it. A completely new album. Something for people to love and appreciate... and hate. 

Oh god, they were going to hate it. They were going to see how horrible of an artist I was. They were going to see how insecure I was. 

Before I knew it, my breath had sped up and tears were streaming down my face. Everything around me was fuzzy, all I could focus on was the panic. They were going to hate me. They were going to hate me. No one will ever like my music ever again. They'll see I'm worthless. I'm worthless.

There was no one there to help me. Techno and Phil were at work and Tommy wasn't home yet.

I can't breathe!

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Tommy POV

I skipped up the steps to the house, excited to tell Wilbur about my latest news. I was finally getting moved up in band! I could hardly force my hand to stop shaking from excitement as I slid my key into the lock.

I walked to my room, tossing my bag inside. I looked around, surprised not to see Wilbur laying about. Usually he always waited for me to get home. Strange.

That's when I heard it. Sobbing. My eyes widened at the sound, that could only be one person. Wilbur.

I had never run so fast in my life, down the hallway and to his room. I barged in, the sight before me proving my fear. He was having a panic attack. 

I rushed to his side, trying to remember everything that Techno had taught me. Help him focus on something else, help him breathe, Techno's words pieced together in my brain.

"Wilbur. Wil, focus on me. Can you hear me?" he didn't respond, making my heart pound. I took a deep breath, grabbing his hand and pressing it against my chest. "Focus on my breathing, okay?"

Minutes passed and slowly, but surely, Wilbur began to calm down. I let out a sigh of relief, "That's right Wil. You're alright, okay big man?"

Finally he met my eyes, slowly realizing what had happened. "I-I-"

He threw his arms around me, making me stiffen in surprise. I quickly hugged back tightly, knowing how much he needed it. He just needed comfort and I was more than willing to give it to him.

"I got you Wil." I whispered in his ear, feeling the tears stain my shirt.

After a few minutes he pulled back, leaning against his bedframe. He looked at me, "Thank you Tommy."

"Of course." I gave him a small smile, leaning against him. "What was that about? I haven't seen you have a panic attack in a while, especially not one that bad."

He took a deep breath and I knew that he knew he would have to tell me. I grabbed his hand, beginning to play with his fingers in hopes of helping him relax. Thankfully it seemed to work."

"I just got myself worked up, that's all." he said shortly.

"It must be more than that Wil. Come on, you can tell me." I glanced towards him. I wasn't leaving until I knew what was wrong.

"My album-m." he began.

"What about it?" I questioned. 

"People are going to hate it." he confessed, finally making me realize what he was really thinking about.