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Tommy leaned himself against his bedroom door, waiting for the nausea to settle. Once it did, he rechecked himself in the mirror to make sure it wasn’t obvious that he’d just been sobbing his heart out. It did a little bit, but at least it was dark in the house and late at night. That didn’t mean everyone was asleep though.
Tommy was over for the weekend. His family had invited him and he’d just finished his fourth week of university. He missed them more than he thought possible and clung to them every time he got a chance. As nice as his room at the university was, it could not compare to his old room.
Wilbur and Techno lived with Phil in the upstairs of a bakery—they helped run it. But Tommy wasn’t interested in baking, in fact, he wasn’t very good at it. So he dragged himself to the University of L’Manberg for performance and business.
It was a mistake. It was a huge, expensive, very bad mistake.
This is what Tommy repeated every step down the stairs, on his exhausting trek to retrieve painkillers for his head.
“Oh you look tired,” Wilbur said, closing a cupboard.
Tommy didn’t care that Wilbur was there, seeing him stumble across the kitchen. He reached for the medicine cupboard, ignoring his brother’s presence, and he grabbed the Advil. He turned to Wilbur, shook out two or three pills, and dry swallowed them.
With an exaggerated, horrified face, Wilbur put down the bowl he’d just grabbed. He frowned and held Tommy’s shoulder.
“Headache keeping you up?”
Yep. Yes. Definitely just a headache and not a mental health crisis.
“Tommy?”
Tommy thunked his head into Wilbur’s chest, eyes stinging. Wilbur let out a small ‘oh’ and wrapped his arms around Tommy. He rubbed Tommy’s back a few times.
“Rough time at uni?”
Without meaning to, Tommy shakily sighed. When he realized what he sounded like, Tommy pulled away and turned to put the medicine away. Wilbur walked up behind him and kept a hand on his shoulder.
“Have you been sleeping okay?”
No.
Tommy closed the medicine cupboard, rubbed at his eyes with the palms of his hands, and then looked back up at Wilbur.
“Will you talk to me? Please?”
“Sorry,” Tommy whispered.
“It’s alright… can we go to your room?”
Tommy shrugged and started back toward the stairs. “Guess so.”
They quietly made it up the stairs, but at the top, Tommy was hit with another wave of dizziness. His stomach curled. He tipped toward the wall and Wilbur caught him around the chest.
“Woah.” Wilbur held him steady. “That’s not good, Toms. Can you make it to your room?”
Tommy shrugged. “S’ just down the hall.”
Wilbur walked with an arm around Tommy’s shoulders, drawing him close. Once in Tommy’s room, Wilbur silently shut the door and turned around to see Tommy face down in the bed. A dim, warm light illuminated him enough to show that his hair was frazzled, his favourite hoodie wrinkled, and there were a lot of tissues in the garbage now.
“Oh, Tommy…” Wilbur sat on the bed next to Tommy and then thought better of it. He decided to lie next to him. “Tell me what’s going on.”
“Too tired,” Tommy breathed.
“This is important, can you try to push past your exhaustion for me?”
“I can’t,” Tommy choked. “Wilbur I can’t just keep ‘pushing through’ my exhaustion—I’m so sick of fucking pushing through.”
Wilbur turned onto his side so he could watch Tommy. “I had no idea you felt like this… university is exhausting. I’m sorry it started getting tiring only in your first few weeks—but I think you’ll really like what you’ll end up doing.”
Tommy shook his head and tried to breathe through the stutters in his lungs. “It’s not uni, Wil—it’s—I’m not just having a sad ‘first-year-student-moment’. I don’t want to do this.”
“You did though, you seemed excited to start,” Wilbur said. “Tommy you’re going into performance but you’re not an actor yet, there’s more to this…”
Tommy’s chest jumped with a short sob that he tried—and failed—to reel in. “I was excited because I thought it’d be better but I just feel the same and it’s just more fucking school.”
“But you did so well in school…”
“I hate school. I hate it so so much. I hate it and I only went to uni because I didn’t know what else to do with myself—I’m so tired.”
Wilbur shuffled closer. “You didn’t really want to be in university?”
Tommy groaned. “I kind of did—like—I think it’s the best option but I don’t really want to do anything.”
Wilbur made a sad, soft sound. “Can you come here?”
Tommy rolled over into Wilbur’s arms.
“Have you been taking care of yourself?” Wilbur asked, adjusting the covers. “Have you been eating?”
Tommy shrugged. “I try but I just feel too sick or nervous sometimes.”
Wilbur hummed, Tommy felt it rumble through his chest. “Trouble sleeping?”
“Don’t want the next day to start.”
Wilbur’s hug tightened and one of his hands moved into Tommy’s hair. “Tommy, it sounds like you’re depressed.”
“I know I am.”
Wilbur sighed and leaned his forehead into Tommy’s hair. “And the stress of all that school work, the busy city, and finding a job really can’t be helping, can it?”
Tommy let out another strangled little cry, “It’s really not.”
“How long do you think you’ve been struggling like this?”
Tommy finally wrapped weak arms around Wilbur. “Maybe three years.”
“Three years?” Wilbur pulled back to see Tommy’s face but immediately had to pull him back in because he couldn’t just look at his little brother like that. “You didn’t say anything for three years?”
“I mean it wasn’t quite this bad the whole time,” Tommy said, voice small. “Thought I could do it. Wanted to stay independent. I just don’t care anymore.”
“We’ll figure it out Tommy, I know we will.”
Tommy whispered, “I don’t know how I’m gonna make it through this year.”
Wilbur’s hand moved down to the back of Tommy’s neck. “You can start by eating something. How do noodles sound? Easy enough on the stomach, right?”
Tommy shook his head. “Don’t want to.”
“You’re dizzy from malnutrition.”
“It could be other things.”
“Sure, but it’s also malnutrition.”
“I’m not hungry Wilbur, I just wanna be here with you.”
Tommy latched on tighter, terrified of having to do anything more effortful than lying down. Trying to sleep was too much effort, eating was too much effort. But lying with Wilbur? That didn’t take too much effort.
“Sorry Toms, I’m not letting this one slide. You wait here.”
Tommy’s tears started spilling, faster, harder, but he held back the gasps. He let Wilbur go.
“I’ll be as quick as I can. Do you want me to wake Phil and Techno up so you’ll have company?”
Tommy shook his head.
“Okay.”
When Wilbur was gone Tommy let his gasps and sobs fly.
He was sick of having to do more. He got to the medicine. Then he had to talk to Wilbur. Then he had to go upstairs. Then he had to talk more. And now he has to eat—he sobbed hard—he just wanted to lie there. He didn’t want to do more.
It was supposed to be an easy task but it was still a task. And that was too much for him now.
And Wilbur wasn’t gone for very long but Tommy couldn’t stand how cold it got when he left. How loud his crying was when Wilbur’s heartbeat wasn’t there. He couldn’t handle it so he was still sobbing by the time his brother came back.
He heard Wilbur put down a bowl with another desperate and sad sound. He knelt next to Tommy, who turned toward him and wrapped his arms back around his little brother.
Wilbur let Tommy cry until his legs got sore from kneeling. And then he said, “Come on and sit up, we’re gonna have some noodles together.”
Wilbur pulled away, making Tommy bite his tongue at the loss of the warmth.
“I don’t want to, Wilbur.”
“What about something else? Something that isn’t a chore and it’s just something tasty? Pizza? We have cookies…”
Tommy rolled onto his back and turned his head away from Wilbur. “I’m tired.”
“... okay I—I’m not letting you leave tomorrow. You are not in good enough health to deal with a full course load, a job, and independent living.”
Tommy didn’t give a fuck what Wilbur did now. He was resting. He was so done waiting and pushing through and getting over things. It was time for Tommy to rest. So Wilbur would do what Wilbur would do.
“Can’t just drop out,” Tommy found himself mumbling. “Got a loan n’ already paid tuition.”
Wilbur hummed in agreement. “I mean that is inconvenient. You could still drop out if you needed to. But I think we can start by getting you a break and talking to some mental health specialists about accommodations.”
Tommy blew out a huge breath. “Seems like a lot of work.”
“Phil and I will do it, Tommy. We’ll figure it all out—Techno will help too.”
Please, Tommy thought. That’s all I want. I just need some help.
“S’ not very fair to you.”
“It’s more than fair, I promise. I want you to be okay, I’m not sending my depressed little brother back to school alone.”
Oh, Wilbur’s voice was watery again.
Tommy sat up with aches in his muscles and his head. And his heart. “Give me the noodles.”
Wilbur eagerly pushed the bowl into Tommy’s hands. Then he sat next to Tommy, legs hanging off the bed, with his own bowl of plain noodles.
Tommy took slow, tired bites. It was hard to keep his arms up.
“Were you ever gonna tell us yourself? Because it seemed like I caught you at the wrong time and you couldn’t hold it back…”
Between bites of noodles, Tommy leaned his head on Wilbur’s shoulder. “I don’t really know. Saw an opening and took it I guess.”
Wilbur, who had finished his noodles six minutes ago, wrapped his arm around Tommy’s back.
“That’s okay. It’s hard.”
Tommy nodded. “I can’t finish these.”
Wilbur frowned and rubbed Tommy’s arm. “That’s okay too. You ate most of it.”
Wilbur took the bowl out of Tommy’s hand and placed it inside his own on the bedside table. Then, he stood up and went toward the door.
“Are you leaving?” Tommy asked, disappointed.
Wilbur closed the door in front of himself and flicked off the lights. Tommy heard his footsteps coming back over.
“Nope. Just getting cozy.”
Wilbur settled back down next to Tommy and invited him into another hug. Tommy’s exhaustion showed through his weak hold, his sighing breaths, and the frowning face he pushed into Wilbur’s chest.
“It’s okay,” Wilbur whispered. “I’m taking care of you.”