silence falls || ✔️

chapter seven- the storm

or, a terrifying beast versus a terrified, jumpy strategist.

Tommy woke to a still car.

He blinked, hoping his eyes would adjust faster, but to no avail.

It was dark and stormy out; the clouds must have rolled in while he was asleep.

He blinked again, then rubbed his eyes.

As he sat up, he noticed that both of his brothers were asleep in the front seat. They hadn't even reclined them, though they could have- they hadn't because Tommy had been asleep in the backseat.

He shook his head and forced himself not to chuckle, a smile spreading across his face.

He reached up to feel for his hearing aid, took it out, turned it off, and then laid back down.

He was nearly asleep when he heard the roar of thunder, but thought nothing of it until he felt a jolt from the front of the car.

He laid still for a moment, not wanting to spook whatever had jumped, and instead of hearing some sickly breathing that signified a diseased, he heard Wilbur.

The middle brother was sitting straight up in his seat now, his eyes wide and full of terror.

He looked all around him, the fear radiating off of him.

Now, Tommy knew Wilbur had been terrified of thunderstorms as a kid, but he'd never suspect he still was- a foul judgement on his part, seeing as Wilbur was the jumpiest person he'd ever known.

He watched his brother in the rearview, not sure whether he should sit up and comfort him or just ignore it.

Thunder struck again, and Wilbur jumped.

He suppressed a whine and put his hands over his ears.

What Tommy heard him say next was something he himself had said to Wilbur as children.

"It's not scary if you can't hear it."

The middle brother said and closed his eyes.

"It's not scary if you can't see it."

Tommy gave a soft smile and sat up, leaning toward the front.

He placed a hand gently on Wilbur's shoulder and rubbed his thumb against the fabric of his trench coat.

"Wil?"

Tommy's voice coaxed his brother, and Wilbur turned to face him, ears still covered.

He opened his eyes and blinked.

"Tommy."

The youngest nodded.

"That's me."

Wilbur gave a soft smile and leaned into his brother's touch.

However, he kept his ears covered and closed his eyes again.

Tommy sighed softly and rested his head against his older brother's shoulder, closed his eyes, and prepared to sleep once again. He could feel his brother shaking, so he looped his arm around the front of the seat and rested his hand on Wilbur's other shoulder.

As his eyes drifted shut, he could have sworn he felt his brother's shaking slow down.

Wilbur found comfort in his brother leaning against him, and despite being terrified, he felt calmer.

Safer.

He tried to steady his uneven breathing, closing his eyes and counting to ten in his head.

'It's just a thunderstorm, Wilbur. It will pass.'

He reassured himself as he rested his head atop his brother's.

'Nothing can hurt you here.'

And he was right.

Nothing could hurt him with Tommy and Techno in the car. He was easily the most protected man in this damned apocalypse.

Techno was a trained killer, and Tommy's willpower was strong enough to make him seem like one.

He admired his brothers for that- for how they could do all the things they did, seemingly without issue.

Earlier that day, watching Tommy lay the diseased out like he did, Wilbur was jealous.

Terrified, but jealous.

He wanted to be able to do that, kill the diseased like they were nothing. He didn't want to be protected at every turn- but when it got down to defending himself, he only thought of George.

He'd thought of how George's boyfriend probably had no clue he was dead, or had even got infected.

He thought of George's parents, and how they'd lost a son- all because of him.

Wilbur had taken his life, if you'd even call it that once infected, and he was sick about it. It had been over two months, and he was still sick to his stomach thinking about the feeling of the knife twisting in his roommate's stomach.

He wasn't a hard-ass.

He didn't have a violent nature.

He wasn't... fit for such a lifestyle.

For Gods' sake, he was a strategist. He wasn't a fucking ninja or anything.

Thunder struck again, but Wilbur barely noticed.

He was too deep in thought to care.

'Looks like there's more than one storm going on tonight,' he thought as he stared out the windshield, his eyes following a line of lightning.

In his head, he envisioned Techno as the thunder. Loud and violent when need be, terrifying.

He thought of Tommy as the lightning. Bright, sharp, dangerous.

He didn't really think of anything for himself, until he came to the conclusion that he was the rain. Soothing, quiet, but could be dangerous if he really, really, really applied himself.

Funny way to think about it, but true nonetheless.

Thunder struck again, but this time he just closed his eyes and prepared to sleep.

'Goodnight, Tech. Goodnight, Tommy. I love you both.' He thought as he drifted off to sleep, the warm feeling of slumber inviting him into it's arms.

He was safe here, in this car, with his two brothers.

Nothing could get him.

Nothing could hurt him.

Nothing would get infected and try to kill him- or so he hoped and prayed.