Genre: hurt/comfort?
TW: suicidal thoughts, smoking
Characters: Wilbur, Tommy
Hi I was gone for a while
I switched to just reading on Ao3 but I hope I'll begin posting more on here and other books as well
Happy Pride Month everyone!🏳️🌈🏳️⚧️
Fic inspired by the song "It's Called: Freefall" by Paris Paloma
Anyways yeah sad time 😃
A/N 28.02.2024:
I know what Wilbur did. I am siding with the victims in this situation. What he did was awful. This fanfiction was written in June of 2023. It will stay on this platform but be aware this is fiction and I no longer support Wilbur.
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Wilbur, to put it simply, felt like shit.
To be more exact, he felt he didn't exactly like himself.
As an artist, he was bound to hate some small details and slip ups in his own work. More often than not he edited his songs for hours on end to achieve the perfect tune. Even then he hated it.
He loved the night. It was quiet, nobody bothering him except for his ever-so-present thoughts. He could go for a smoke on his part of the balcony and then lie that he quit two months ago. That made him feel guilt about lying. He hated the night. But even the devil needs time alone sometimes.
He loved thunderstorms. God how he loved thunderstorms. He could gaze upon them for hours, fantasizing that the bright flashes were gods in the sky from Techno's stories. It was a beautiful chaos. Just like his life. That made him sad. He hated thunderstorms.
He loved the wind. The breeze flowing through his hair sometimes so gently, other times harsh as a tornado. It felt cleansing and refreshing. It never could cleanse his thoughts though. He hated the wind.
He looked down. Would the wind catch him?
What if he let gravity win? What if he fell. Kicking and grabbing onto the air, freefalling. He could let it all go. Leap from the 7th floor.
Wilbur heard a knock on his bedroom door.
Without waiting for an answer the blonde let himself in. He looked around the room, spotting Wilbur at the balcony. He felt surprised at the sight of a cigarette between his fingers.
A puff of smoke. "What do you need Tommy?"
"I thought you stopped smoking," Tommy said questionably. The brunette just took another swig, looking away. "I just wanted to get my charger."
"Next to the nightstand," Wilbur said, not even sparing a gaze towards his brother. Tommy took the item and for a brief second stood there, questioning wether he should say anything else. After some consideration he settled for a simple, "Will? Are you okay?"
The older stiffened for a brief moment.
"I clearly am not, but burdening you with my problems is the last thing I want to do," he answered truthfully. He can get through this alone. Except he just thought about killing himself right on this balcony.
"Wilbur, please. I-I want to help you with whatever is bugging you..." The blonde traield off. "If not, I'll... I'll tell dad you're still smoking!"
Wilbur chuckled.
"See? You're still childish."
Tommy stopped himself from bursting in joke anger. "That doesn't mean that my want to help you is invalid," he said after a beat of silence. The brunette was shocked at the words, but quickly went numb again.
"Fine. I feel... Useless. That whatever I do is not needed. That no matter how hard I try, I won't be good enough." He said before taking another inhale of the smoke. "Is that enough for you to leave me alone?"
Instead of an answer, he felt arms wrap around him from behind. A close hug, the warmth of Tommy's body a contrast to the breezy air of the night. "You're not useless," the younger stated. As if it can change anything. "I think you have done great things that are appreciated by others."
"Like what?"
"Your music." Wilbur rolled his eyes at Tommy's statement. The blonde just sighed.
"Wilbur. I'm trying to help you and I'm sorry I don't know how to. There are more people who know what they're doing and how to deal with emotions. Please seek help from them. I don't know, I-" he paused for a second. "Let people help you, please."
A soft smile tugged on Wilbur's lips. He hugged his younger brother, who by now came up to stand in front of him. Tommy was surprised at the contact, but soon reciprocated the hug.
They two simply stood there in a comfortable silence. And Wilbur thought that maybe, maybe he likes himself afterall.