Tommyinnit Oneshots (With SBI) (Book 2)

It's Just a Bruise (Tommy)(6/?)

Tommy POV

Sunday fell into step behind Saturday, much to Tommy's disappointment. No matter how hard he wished, the hours wouldn't stop ticking by. He could only watch as the hours ticked down, dreading Monday more and more.

That night, he laid on Wilbur's bed, watching his brother pluck the strings of his guitar. It was mindless, with no real thought or rhythm. Tommy found comfort in the notes, despite the fact that they never went together. His phone was abandoned beside him. He had spent the last few hours writing and rewriting lyrics, knitting together the random thoughts that came to light in his head. Now he simply laid there, allowing the music to wash over him.

They had been silent for a while. Not an awkward silence where they both struggled to speak, but a comfortable one, where it was better not to rely on words. Tommy wondered if Wilbur even remembered that he was there. 

Wilbur glanced back towards him, a groan escaping his lips. "I just can't find it!" The guitar slipped through his fingers, leaning back into his lap. "It's not right, I know it's not right!" 

Tommy didn't try to hide his grin. There was something amusing about Wilbur's frustration. He was always so hard on himself without a reason to be. "Anything you write sounds good to me," the blonde reassured, his eyes tracing back towards the white ceiling.

"Exactly!" Wilbur exclaimed, burying his face into his palms. "It has to be something more! Something that is actually worth listening to... Not something that's so predictable." 

"What's so wrong with being predictable? If something has already been proven to work, then why not repeat it?" 

"Because it won't make a mark, Tommy! People won't remember it!" Wilbur was on his feet, suddenly prancing around the room. His eyes were darting between the posters on the walls filled with bands of his idols. "I can't even hope to make it in the real world without a mark..."

Tommy sat up, thinking over his words. It was difficult to understand from his point of view. In his world, it was always better to be invisible than it was to stand out. "Even without a mark, I'll still listen to all your songs," he offered.

Brown eyes met blue. Wilbur chuckled, making his way towards the younger. He ruffled the boy's hair, wrapping an arm around his brother. "That means the world to me, Toms." There was a pause before he sighed, "There's been something I've been meaning to talk to you about, Tommy."

Immediately, Tommy sat up straighter, a shiver crawling down his spine at the use of his normal name. "What do you mean?" Even without the question, he had a feeling he knew where this was going. His brain began to list out excuses, from the torment of gym to a trip down the big steps. He could only pray that Techno would stay out of the conversation, instead relying on Wilbur to relay back to him.

"Something's been bugging you lately... And I don't think it has anything to do with that big test." His hands linked together before unlinking again. "I've been talking to Tech and we... Are you being bullied, Tommy?"

"No," the answer was instant, faster than the pluck of a string. Tommy couldn't help it. The last thing he wanted was to attempt the truth. In Tommy's mind it would only make everything worse. Derek was his best friend, the closest companion he had besides Techno. He couldn't break that kind of bond, no matter how much his bruises burned.

Wilbur's head tilted towards him, "Tommy... You know you can-"

"I should probably get to bed. I have that big audition tomorrow and I don't want to be tired," Tommy was already half way across the room before the words were out of his mouth. He had almost made it to the door when Wilbur stopped him.

"You can tell us anything, you know that right?"

The sadness weighing in his voice made him pause. Did he know he was lying? Tommy swallowed back the lump in his throat, clearing away the shakiness in his voice. "Of course."

Tommy didn't give him the chance to make him stop again. He escaped to his room, sealing the door behind him. He leaned against the wood of the door, listening to the sound of footsteps. They trailed between the door and the hallway, rounding in a circle.

The boy held his breath, waiting for Wilbur to knock his crumbling walls down. To demand the answer that he so desperately wanted. But one second rolled into two, and before long a minute had run by.

There was a hesitation before the footsteps trailed off. Back into the corner of music.

Tommy sat there, a new lump forming in his throat. He didn't know what bothered him more. The fact that he had followed him. 

Or the fact that he didn't even knock.

---------

Hope you liked it!

There should be at least one more part!

Feel free to request!

Thank you for 130K!!

Hope you have a wonderful day!

-Snowy