Tommys clinic for supervillains

Chapter 26

Tommy woke up with a pounding headache.

Blinking open crusted-over eyes, he was just able to make out his familiar ceiling, and could feel soft sheets wrapped around his body.

Everything ached. All of his muscles were sore, his head was throbbing, and even the act of opening his eyes was starting to exhaust him. It felt like he'd been run over by a car, but not just once. It felt like he'd gotten run over, and then the car reversed to run over him a second time, and then it drove forward again to hit him a third time as well—just for good measure.

Suffice to say, he felt like shit.

His mind was groggy as he tried to think back on what had happened. They had been... going to meet with Dream... and then 404 had tried to throw knives at them... and then Dream stabbed Wilbur-

Oh.

Bolting upright in his bed, Tommy hissed as the movement sent a huge spike of pain through his head, and squeezed his eyes shut as he brought his hands up to his temples.

"Tommy?" A familiar voice said.

"Dad?" Tommy mumbled without thinking, keeping his eyes shut.

There was a beat of silence, and Tommy could've sworn he heard Phil sniffle. Then,

"Hey Toms."

Suddenly, there was a warm hand wrapping around his wrist, and Tommy blinked open his eyes again to see his father.

Phil was sitting on the chair next to his bed, much like Tubbo and Ranboo had been doing when Tommy had first woken up after being kidnapped. He moved his hand down Tommy's wrist to gently squeeze his hand, and Tommy could see there were dark bags under his eyes.

"How are you feeling?" Phil asked, giving him a warm smile despite his eyes glittering like they were full of tears.

Tommy opened his mouth to answer, but paused when he remembered what else happened before he passed out.

The alley. Trying to keep Wilbur from bleeding out. Trying to shake him awake and begging him not to be dead.

That blinding light and the fire racing through his veins. His own screams echoing in his ears.

"Where's Wilbur?!" Tommy asked, ripping his hand out of Phil's. "Is he okay? Did he- I mean I- I thought that I-"

"He's okay," Phil cut him off, resting a hand on his shoulder.

Tommy took a shaky breath as he remembered what it was like to try and shake Wilbur awake, only for him to sit there completely limp.

"I-I thought he- I could've sworn he-" he cut himself off this time, a choked sob bubbling up in his throat. "Are you sure he's okay?" He asked Phil, tears now swimming in his eyes.

"He's alright, Tommy. You saved his life," Phil reassured him, squeezing his shoulder. "He's alive because of you."

Oh thank god.

"Where is he?" Tommy asked, looking around his room and realizing he and Phil were the only people in it. "I-I need to see him." He needed to get the mental image of Wilbur's dead body out of his head. He needed proof that his brother was alive.

"He's in his room-"

Before Phil could finish his sentence, Tommy pushed the blankets back to try and climb out of bed. But when he put his feet on the ground, the minute he tried to shift his weight onto his legs, they started shaking so badly he couldn't even find it in him to stand up.