At one in the morning, Phil got out of his bed and went to his computer. He had some work to do, and more than enough love to give back to his middle son.

__________________________________________________________

To say Wilbur was confused when asked to stay for another few days was an understatement. Of course, he didn't mind, it was his family, but why was Phil suddenly being all clingy? Why was he being force-fed his favorite foods by his dad while the other brothers looked ready to burst with laughter?

One morning, he got his answer after being woken up by kicks from Tommy.

"Ass. Downstairs." Tommy pulled Wilbur's arm, slowly but surely hauling the six-foot-five man out of bed.

"When'd'jou get so strong?" Wilbur groaned sleepily.

"I drank my milk," Tommy said nonchalantly. "Let's go, fuckhead."

"What're we doing?" Wilbur mumbled, voice slightly slurred.

"See, that's why I'm telling you to get your ass downstairs, so we can tell you," Tommy explained as if Wilbur was a small child.

Wilbur snorted. "Give me a minute." He pushed Tommy towards the door, who blew a raspberry and shut it behind him.

Wilbur drowsily put on a binder and a rumpled button-up, which was the same thing he'd been doing during his whole stay in anticipation of misgendering that never came. Now, he was in the habit, and it felt weird to break, so he continued to wear his button-ups.

As soon as he opened his door, his wrist was grabbed by an antsy Tommy, who dragged him unreadily down the stairs. Techno and Phil looked up from the kitchen table, where they had food ready.

and of course it's the sausages, Wilbur thought light-heartedly.

"Hey, Wilbur!" Phil greeted. His foot tapped against a wrapped cardboard box. "How are you?"

"Mmm, dunno, just woke up," he said with a yawn.

"Well, go ahead and eat your breakfast, then I've got something to give you," Phil said excitedly. Techno looked on with a small smirk. He seemed happy, but equally like he was trying to avoid giving a shit and was failing.

Wilbur slowly downed his three breakfast sausages (he couldn't afford to be eating dozens daily, unfortunately), looking between the other members of the household every once in a while.

"Seriously, what's going on?" Wilbur asked, slightly more alert.

"Open the box," Phil said, placing it on the table.

Wilbur obeyed, pulling the wrapping back. He opened the box, and inside were a few things. The first, and most colorful and obvious, was a big transgender pride flag. Wilbur pulled it out and held it up, looking it over.

"Wow, that's pretty cool. I was meaning to get one for a while," Wilbur said, the smile audible in his voice.

He folded it neatly, setting it nearby. Wilbur pulled out the next item in the care package. It was a button-up with dinosaurs on it.

dinosaur

"dinosaur"

"Yeah, it's a dinosaur shirt," Phil said, laughing at Wilbur's childlike behavior.

"it's a stegosaurus"

"It sure is."

Wilbur's eyes glittered. He tucked the shirt on his lap, grinning stupidly while he pulled out the last item. It was an envelope that he opened carefully. Inside was a letter in three different kinds of handwriting.

yo bitch we got you the good shit. thank me. thank me right now. seriously, though, dude, you're neat. i can't imagine what sort of stuff you've gone through just to get here and get comfortable. and remember, i'm your therapist and you can tell me anything.

-tommy

hey, i hope this is a sort of consolation for me not always being able to help you. i'm sorry if i ever hurt you or anything, and just know that i never meant to. i kinda envy how in touch you are with you sense of self. i have no fucking clue who i am. to think that it was the younger twin who ended up moving out, doing drugs, and knowing who he really is.

-technoblade

i know i've done some shit. i'm sorry i doubted you, really. that's my fault, for sure. i should always be aiming to make you comfortable, but i just haven't been doing that. you always find ways to teach me how to be better, even without trying. i'm grateful to have a son like you, one who challenges what i think i know is best, and throws me headfirst into the reality of the world. i decided to get all of this ready for you, since i only want to see you happy, and this is the best way i know how. good luck, baby boy.

The page below the short notes had two words that stood out to Wilbur the most. They made his heart beat loudly in his ears, a headache come on, and tears press at his eyes.

top surgery.

__________________________________________________________

1.4k words

sorry if that's a shitty or unrealistic ending woops

hey, you, yeah, reader who just made it through my shit-show of a book, i'm proud of you. you're loved, strong, and a great person. if anyone tries to tell you otherwise, i will personally beat their ass and skewer them on a flagpole. you deserve love, happiness, and the entire fucken world. there's a community of people here who care about you, and don't you ever tell yourself or let yourself be told otherwise. if you're feeling shitty, tell me and i'll bust your fucken doors in and bring you some tomato soup with the ice cube. unless you don't want the ice cube.

i know trans people (hell, people in general) don't get a lot of support, particularly in real life. but it will get better. hey, man, you're on the right side of history. that's pretty cool. people in the future will think back about people like you and just be so enamored by what you've gone through and how strong you were to make it through. that's the important part. you have to make it through! you've got this. be that inspiring, powerful figure that the future longs to see.

thank you for reading <3


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