Parasocial Family

I kill people for plot-related reasons.

TW:  Alcoholic parent, death of parents.  Someone gets sick.

Wilbur hadn't been a quiet child out of nature but by nurture. Though his father had been an alcoholic, he had never raised a hand to him. No, Wilbur learned to be quiet less out of necessity and more out of love. His father was a relatively light sleeper, at least when he was sober. It was easier to just let him sleep until his alarm went off and he had to leave for work. The few times Wilbur had accidentally woken him up in the beginning, he'd complained of a "headache '', his euphemism for a hangover, and made a few half-hearted attempts at bonding that were horribly awkward and that Wilbur would rather not repeat.

Wilbur's father had died of liver failure when he was young, leaving his mom to support them both alone. When she got home she was always dead tired, and Wilbur was careful not to wake her. She deserved as much rest as she could get. This habit continued all the way through his teen years.

It made it all the way to when she was tired from her cancer treatment instead of all her jobs. She'd be bone-tired, but restless enough that little sounds would wake her up. With no-one he could really confide in about all of it, Wilbur had spent a lot of time sitting in the dark quietly, thinking.

Wilbur happened to be doing just that on the couch one night when Phil walked in. Phil shut the door to the bedroom quietly and was holding his phone, dialing somebody. Phil sat down in the seat opposite Wilbur, his face bright from the light of his phone screen. Wilbur watched curiously as Phil brought the phone to his ear.

"Hey," Phil whispered. "Sorry I didn't answer right away, what's wrong?" Phil's expression morphed into a slightly dismayed one. "Oh no! How bad is it? Okay, that's good. I can call him out of school, sure. Yeah, put him on the phone." Wilbur watched, amazed, as Phil's tone morphed into something soft and sweet. Phil comforted whoever was on the other side of the phone.

"Tommy, it's okay I'm here, Tommy. It's going to be okay, Tommy. Why don't you tell me what you did recently? What's up with your friend Tubbo?" Phil said soothingly.

So Phil was talking to Tommy. Who called him then? This seemed like a private conversation. Should Wilbur leave? That might draw attention to the fact that he was there in the first place. Did Phil even know he was there?

Wilbur sunk further back into the couch as Phil soothed Tommy. There was no way Phil didn't know he was here. He was literally sitting right across from Phil. Phil had looked him dead in the eyes while calling whoever it was. After a while of Wilbur thinking and Phil talking, Phil ended his murmurs.

"Can you hand the phone to Techno now, Tommy? Thank you. Can you make him some soup for tomorrow? It should be in the recipe book, he can heat it up himself. Tell him to call you if his fever gets any worse. Yes, Techno, fevers can be really dangerous! Sorry, I know. Love you. Bye." Phil hung up the phone, looking haggard. His fingers hovered over the screen, about to dial somebody else.

"Is Tommy okay?" Wilbur asked. Tommy had always been a bit of a brat in the stories Phil told, but he meant well. Most of it was posturing or over exaggerating. Plus, Wilbur could tell Phil loved Tommy deeply.

Phil jumped at Wilbur's voice, throwing his phone slightly. After Phil's scramble and success at catching his phone, he stared at Wilbur in surprise. His eyes were wide in the dark, trying his best to see Wilbur.

"What are you doing here?" Phil asked, sounding puzzled. "I didn't hear you come in, but I was distracted." Here, Phil gestured at his phone.

"I was sitting here before you showed up," Wilbur said. "You must not have seen me. I had wondered why you picked that spot for your phone call when you could've just done it in your bedroom."

"I didn't want to wake you," Phil said simply. "Sorry I didn't notice you."

"No worries, I have a lot of practice sitting quietly in the dark, it's no wonder you didn't spot me," Wilbur reassured him. "Is Tommy okay though?"

"I mean... he's got a fever and can't go to school, but he should probably be fine," Phil said worriedly.

"Most likely, yeah. From the way you describe him, it would take a lot more than just a fever to take down the great Tommy Innit." Wilbur said.

"Yeah," Phil sighed. "I miss them so much." Wilbur knew Phil was talking about Tommy and Techno. Wilbur got up from his place on the loveseat and moved to sit next to Phil.

"He'll be alright, Phil." Wilbur placed his hand on Phil's shoulder. Phil was silent for a second, before putting his head on Wilbur's shoulder.

"Thank you," Phil said quietly. After a few minutes of peace, Phil shifted and stood up.

"I'd love to sit with you longer," Phil said apologetically. "But I need to call the school and let them know that Tommy won't be showing up tomorrow." Phil walked into the bedroom, shutting the door firmly behind him.

Wilbur lay down on the couch and closed his eyes. He'd go back to his bed later when Phil was definitely not on the phone anymore. Wilbur had forgotten that most people turned on the lights when they sat awake at night. It might have been better that Wilbur had forgotten, the light might have woken Phil up. Despite the fact that Wilbur had resolved to head to bed, he fell asleep on the couch instead.

Wilbur missed Phil bringing him Wilbur's blanket and pillow after calling the school. He missed Phil absentmindedly giving him a kiss on his forehead, which he used to do to Techno until he complained about it being unhygienic. He used to do it to Tommy as well until Tommy decided he was too grown-up for it. However, Wilbur noticed the blanket and pillow when he woke up the next morning, and, well, there really only could have been one person to do it, as Wilbur had been asleep.