sleepy bois inc oneshots

some dads are good, some are bad

Requested by GillianDaVillian

Tommy, 6, and Wilbur, 12, are left to fend for themselves after Phil leaves them behind, but after they run away they find comfort in a certain creeper dad

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Phil ruffled Wilbur's hair, half-heartedly grinning down at him. "It's best for you and Tommy," he said, taking his hand away. Wilbur swallowed thickly, staring at his feet. He nodded, though, because there was nothing else for him to do.

Tommy was still asleep, since it was about eight at night, and Wilbur silently hoped he wouldn't wake from the storm brewing outside. If he did, he'd come downstairs in search of comfort and when Phil leaves Wilbur would have to provide it when he really wouldn't want to, but he had to because Tommy was just a little kid and he needed a shoulder to lean on-

Wilbur looked up when he heard a clicking sound. Phil had already left. He sighed, running a hand through his hair, and walked into the kitchen. He didn't leave money, he thought to himself.

He went to rub the sleep from his eyes, but stopped when he felt that they were wet. He blinked, and went to grab a paper towel. "When did I start crying?" He questioned to no one, quietly.

Wilbur shrugged to the silent air and wiped the tears from his face. He threw the slightly damp paper towel into the trash and headed to his room, giving up on his quest for a drink.

As he passed by Tommy's room, he paused. He fiddled with his thumbs, and shook his head. He quickly put his ear to his younger brother's door, and listened. Tommy was still sleeping, good.

He pulled away from the door, and it felt like he came back into his body when he entered his own room. He hastily closed the door shut, flipping the light switch off, and rushed to his bed. He carelessly threw himself under his blankets and stared at the ceiling.

Phil left. And there was probably no money saved, since Wilbur had bought a goodie bag of candy for Tommy the other day. Wilbur turned over and faced the wall. He started crying.

-

When he awoke, his eyes were sticky and his body felt lethargic. He felt lifeless, though he knew much better than to think he actually was. He slowly sat up and stretched his gangly limbs from under his heavy covers.

He suddenly remembered why he felt so tired. Not tired as in he hadn't gotten any sleep, but an emotional tired. He got up from his bed and made his way into the dimly lit hall.

I have to take care of Toms, he reminded himself, mind immediately set on his task. Wilbur knocked on his brother's door tautly, waiting for Tommy's answer. He heard shuffling from the other side, and the door slowly opened.

It was a bit unusual for him to be awake so early, especially for his age, but Tommy was always aiming to be different from his peers. Wilbur offered a small wave, and they took each other's hand in the other's and walked downstairs.

Tommy sat down at the table while Wilbur walked to the refrigerator. "Where's dad? He makes breakfast," Tommy blurted, voice laced with drowsiness. Wilbur tensed at his question. What was he supposed to tell his little brother? The truth? He couldn't. Not yet.

"Uh, he's going on a long trip. He put me in charge." Tommy only rolled his eyes, sputtering something mockingly under his breath. How childish. Wilbur laughed softly at his mumbles and opened the fridge.

"Oh. Oh, no, no, no," he muttered, eyes widening. He closed the door harder than he meant to. Tommy gave him a weird look. His mind wracked for another idea, because there was nothing to eat.

He spun around and made eye contact with Tommy. "Hey, Toms, we're leaving." Tommy sat up straight. "What?"

-

They didn't pack anything when they left, just a pair of scissors on Wilbur and a bunch of rocks and pebbles in Tommy's short pockets. They didn't have anything to pack, really. Phil never had the time to give them anything special of their own.

They walked aimlessly around the streets and didn't stop until the sun began to set. Wilbur started panicking. Why did he make the stupid decision to leave the house? If they had stayed, at least they wouldn't be cold. Hungry, yeah, but they couldn't really stave that off.

The whole time, though, Wilbur and Tommy's hands stayed intertwined in the other's, and they always glanced at each other in shrouded panic and obvious fear.

They both started to become slower and slower, feet dragging against the rough concrete. They wouldn't be able to go on much longer, and Wilbur wouldn't be able to carry Tommy since he wasn't strong enough.

Their eyes were hooded, shoulders sagging, and then they ran into their savior.

-

"Dad! Look what I made!" Tommy shouted, bright blue eyes nearly popping out of their sockets. He excitedly shoved a paper drawing in Sam's face, hopping up and down in his spot.

Sam chuckled, gently taking the paper from the boy's hands. He quickly scanned it, and smiled down at Tommy. He ruffled his hair affectionately. "It's beautiful, Tommy. You did amazing," he complimented.

Tommy visibly brightened, and he laughed and ran into the living room, where Wilbur was reading. He looked up, round glasses sitting on the bridge of his nose.

"What is it, Toms?" He asked, setting his book to the side. Tommy grinned and giggled, clapping his hands together. Sam walked into the room and handed the colorful paper to the sweater-wearing Wilbur.

He looked at it and then up at Sam, down to Tommy. He smiled and nodded. "It's pretty cool. For a dumb child like you." Tommy stopped, and shrieked.

"I AM NOT A CHILD! I'M THE BIGGEST MAN YOU'VE EVER SEEN!"

"Yeah, says the little kid who's YELLING!"

"Alright, boys. Settle down."