Will Them Into Existence

Sinking, Slivers, Shivers

Wilbur pushed open the door to the apartment, it lightly hitting the wall and pushing back towards them as they helped Tommy through it. The walk back from the school had taken a toll on the blonde - his pale face and shaky figure adding layer upon layer of worry to the green haired teen's already anxious mind.

They closed the door behind them, triple checking the locks were in place before moving the shorter twin towards the living room, murmuring softly the whole time.

"It's okay. It's okay, Toms. Just keep your eyes open, yeah? I need you on lookout." They said, pressing him down against the couch and looking up as Sam entered the room from his bedroom of off the kitchen.

"Hey, hey- whoa, what the hell happened?" The man exclaimed, rushing forward and immediately putting the back of his hand softly against the younger blonde's forehead. "Gods, he's burning up."

Wilbur nodded furiously, eyebrows creased in worry as they looked between the two blondes. Sam got up and went to the kitchen, pulling down an army grade first aid kit and some tylenol from an inside cabinet and then turning for a water battle before sitting back at his previous position by the green haired teen's side.

"Wilbur, I can hear you thinking from here. What's wrong?" Sam asked, pulling open the first aid kit and removing a suture kit and some bandages from it. He leaned forward, gently pulling off Tommy's jacket and cheer uniform shirt, who blearily grasped around until his hand met Wilbur's. With their free hand, they pulled open the bottle of tylenol, passing two and the water bottle to their brother and helping him take it.

The taller twin squeezed his hand, eyes on the blonde man as he worked to close their brother's wound - three parallel scratch marks, sideways just under his third rib - and took a deep breath.

"Sam, I-" Their voice cracked, and they brought their free hand up to rub at his eyes. "Dean-"

Just as Sam's eyebrow rose, the door opened, and a familiar brunette stepped through, furiously clicking all the locks back into place. He turned, eyes searching until they landed on the group on the couch. He leaned against the door, breathing deeply, and then he stood up and walked over to them all.

Wilbur gaped at Dean, who simply sat beside them, waited for a nod, and then patted their knee. Their eyes scanned him, looking for any sign of injury or scuffle, but he just shook his head.

"It was gone by the time I started playing. Don't know where it went. I was scared for a second that it followed you home, but, obviously you two are okay." He stood once more, making his way to the entrance and pulling off his jacket, setting his keys on the counter.

"I'm- damn, I'm glad you're okay, Dean." The green haired teen said, squeezing Tommy's hand as he gasped at a particularly harsh tug from the needle. Sam set down the suture kit, grabbing the bandages and beginning to wrap them all the way around the younger blonde's torso.

Wilbur stood abruptly, going into their twin's room and returning with a roll of stickers. They spent the next few minutes decorating the bandages, letting Tommy blearily pick out a few and taking the liberty of choosing the rest themself. They smiled worriedly at him, and he grasped for their hand again. They took it with a chill, the other's green eyes still looking down at his feet.

The taller teen leaned down, removing his remaining stained pink converse and scooting it aside with their own dirty black ones. They took a blanket from off of the back of the couch, situating it around the shorter as he leaned back and his eyes began to close. "Get some sleep, T. You're gonna be okay. I promise."

They waited a few more minutes before leaning down and picking up the shoe, taking their brother's discarded shirt and jacket with them. When Tommy was fully conscious, he would be devastated about them - particularly the jacket, a token from his (admittedly, in hindsight, quite illegal) drag racing days of the south - but there was nothing that could be done about that now.

Instead, Wilbur walked into the kitchen and set them beside the trash can on the floor. He'd let Tommy throw them away when he woke up, a sort of ceremonious goodbye. They turned to the two adults in the room who had migrated there when it became clear the sticker situation was going to last much longer than a few minutes.

The two had obviously been talking, if Dean's scowl and Sam's frown where anything to go by.

The green haired teen pulled a stool from under the bar, sitting heavily on it with a sigh. "Okay. What are we talking about?"

Sam glanced at Dean, turning fully in his own seat to look at Wilbur. "I just- I didn't even know there was something after you two. Obviously I was busy, but I like to think I would've dropped everything if I really, really knew what kind of danger you were in. Especially if it really is a-"

Dean cut him off, pressing his hands against the counter with a shake of his head. "Don't say it." He paused, looking towards the teen with a soft smile. "And gods, Sammy, of course you would've come. But you were in college. That was the first thing you really chose for yourself, and I wasn't going to take that from you. Not for the world. Besides, Wilbur and I took care of each other."

The brunette man stood, walking around to the fridge and pulling three water bottles out. He passed one to each of them, popping open his own and taking a few sips. "I wasn't going to let anything happen to them. And their stubborn ass wouldn't let anything happen to me, either."

Wilbur nodded, pushing their bottle back and forth between their hands. "We thought we'd gotten rid of it. That's why we never said anything. I mean, hell, how do you say something like that? 'Oh yeah, we've just been tormented for the last few years by an eldrich horror, but it's really no big deal!' I-"

The green haired teen whipped their head around, looking at their brother who now stood in the doorway. Without a shirt, it was easy to see just how banged up he was- bruises beginning to form standing out against the yellow of the kitchen light. He was shaking, arms wrapped around his middle and dirty sock clad feet pointed inwards. "What?" He asked, voice trembling almost as much as himself.

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this is so fun to write. i love changing chapter plans at the last minute <3