Tommys clinic for supervillains

Chapter 12

Sure enough, when Tommy arrived at Wilbur's house, there were two steaming mugs of hot chocolate waiting for them on the kitchen counter.

Tommy didn't need to say much, and for that he was so unbelievably grateful. Techno only said a brief 'hullo' to him as he rinsed out the pot he'd used to make the hot chocolate, before leaving him and Wilbur alone as he disappeared up the stairs. Wilbur didn't push him to talk either, just shoved the mug in Tommy's hands before he started to rummage through the kitchen cabinets, asking Tommy if he'd gotten the chance to eat dinner.

The hot chocolate was rich and warm, and although there was still a hollow aching in his chest, it made it feel like the hole was filled for just a moment. Although Tommy hadn't actually gotten a chance to eat dinner, he told Wilbur he had, simply because he knew he wasn't going to be able to stomach anything more than the sweet drink tonight.

He let the hot chocolate work its way through him as he rested his fingers against the granite counters, watching Wilbur flit around the kitchen, buzzing with nervous energy. It was clear that he was worried about Tommy, but didn't want to push him to talk if he didn't want to.

In the end, despite telling Wilbur that he'd eaten dinner, he still ended up with a slice of peanut butter toast sitting in front of him.

"I told you I ate," Tommy said, his fingers still clutching the hot chocolate mug as tightly as he could. Although his tears had stopped long ago, his voice was rough, and he winced at the sound.

"Yeah, you said you ate before your shift. Normally you eat again after your shift, which I know you didn't this time because that's when you had your fight, so you need something to tie you over," Wilbur explained, resting his elbows on the counter in front of him.

Dammit. Damn Wilbur and his annoying tendency to actually pay attention to all the rambling nonsense that falls out of Tommy's mouth.

"I'm not hungry," Tommy mumbled, pushing the plate away.

Wilbur frowned and pushed the plate back towards him. "You don't have to eat all of it. Just a few bites. It'll make you feel better, I promise."

"How do you know?" Tommy asked, voice growing sharper as frustration flared inside him.

"Because in all the time we've been friends, this is the first time I've ever seen you turn down food," Wilbur said, not reacting to the bite in his words. "Just a few bites, that's all I'm asking for."

Tommy glared at Wilbur, but he knew the silent protest wasn't going to work. Wilbur could be a stubborn bitch when he wanted to, and clearly this was going to be one of those times.

Flipping him off with one hand, Tommy lifted up the toast with the other and took a small bite from the corner.

The peanut butter was sweet but not too sweet, pairing nicely with the nuts and seeds in the bread itself. As soon as he swallowed the first bite, his stomach seemed to wake up all at once, as if suddenly remembering how little food he'd had that day. Next thing he knew, he'd eaten the entire piece of toast, and Wilbur was giving him a knowing smirk.

"Fuck off," Tommy grumbled, pushing the crumb-covered plate back towards him.

"Thank you," Wilbur replied, taking the plate and rinsing it off in the sink.

As loath as Tommy was to admit it, he did actually feel a bit better after eating the toast. His head still ached from his crying, and there was a still a painful seize in his chest every time he remembered the betrayal in Tubbo's eyes as they screamed at each other, but the gnawing anxiety in his gut had lessened.