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Wilbur sits on the hard bench, clutching a now-quiet Tommy in his arms, and pretends it doesn’t hurt anymore.
He watches the clock on the wall, watches the hands tick slowly towards one o’clock. Mom left an hour ago, and he knows- somehow, Wilbur knows she’s not coming back.
Tears sting his eyes. Wilbur doesn’t let them fall, pressing his face into Tommy’s mop of curls. He’s a big boy, and big boys don’t cry. Even if they really, really want to.
A man kneels in front of him. He has dark hair with green streaks in it, flopping into his face. He smiles, a little sadly.
“Hi,” he murmurs. “What’s your name, buddy?”
“W-Wilbur.”
“Hi, Wilbur. Is this your little brother?”
“Tommy,” he whispers. “He’s asleep.”
The man softens his voice. “My name is Sam. I’m a social worker, I’m gonna take care of you. Okay?”
Mom always told him that if he was bad, people would come and take Tommy away. Wilbur holds him tighter, ignoring that it hurts his arm. “Please don’t take him.”
“I’m not taking your brother away from you, Wilbur.” Sam shifts. “How old are you?”
“’leven.”
“Eleven, okay. How old is Tommy?”
“Three ‘n’ a half.”
“Wow, he’s getting big, isn’t he?” Sam smiles softly. “Do you have any other brothers or sisters?”
“No.” Wilbur shifts. “’s just me ‘n’ Tommy.”
Sam nods. “Who do you live with?”
“Mom. ‘n Pa. He’s Tommy’s dad, not mine.”
“You like them?”
Wilbur hesitates, he’s not supposed to say mean things about people.
“It’s okay, Wilbur. You won’t get in trouble for telling me.”
“They hurt me,” he whispers. “’n’ Tommy, sometimes, but I take care of him. I keep him safe.”
“I’m sure you’re very, very good at that.” Sam’s gentle smile doesn’t slip. “Can you tell me about how your parents hurt you?”
Wilbur flinches, arms tightening around Tommy. The toddler whimpers, fist tightening in Wilbur’s shirt, and Wilbur hushes him before he can wake up.
“We can talk about something else.” Sam hums. “Do you have any pets?”
“Uh-uh. But I have Friend.” Wilbur moves one hand slightly, pointing at the toy sheep Tommy’s clinging to.
“He looks very soft.”
“Tommy likes cuddling with him.” Wilbur replaces his hand on the back of Tommy’s head.
“I bet.” Sam’s quiet for a second. “What do you like to do, Wilbur?”
What does he like? “Uh… I take care of Tommy. All the time. And sometimes Mom has me clean stuff. Or make food. I make all of mine and Tommy’s food.”
“Is there anything you do for fun? Or to play?”
“I play with Tommy.” Wilbur’s confused by why he’s asking. “I make up stories for him with stuffed animals. And blocks.”
“Okay.” Sam sighs a little bit. “Wilbur, can you tell me what happens when you get in trouble?”
Wilbur feels all shaky, but he answers anyway. “Mom puts me in a small place and locks me in. Sometimes she puts Tommy in with me.”
Sam nods a little. He still looks sad. “That must be really scary.”
“I’m a big boy,” Wilbur says automatically. “Big boys don’t get scared.”
Sam hums. “Does Tommy ever get scared?”
“He’s little.” Wilbur shrugs. “He cries a lot. I don’t cry.”
“What do you do when Tommy cries?”
“I sing to him, if we’re by ourselves. ‘n’ I cuddle with him.”
“What happens to Tommy when you go to school?”
“Don’t go to school,” Wilbur mutters. “I hafta take care of Tommy, c’se Mom doesn’t like taking care of him ‘n’ Pa gets mad when he’s loud.”
“What does your stepfather do when he’s mad?”
Wilbur whines, putting his cheek down on Tommy’s head. “Says he’ll kill us. Sometimes he hurts me and calls me things.”
“Can you tell me more?”
Wilbur closes his eyes tight. He doesn’t want to but he thinks Sam is nice, so he says, “He holds me too tight ‘n’ says he’ll touch me in bad places ‘f I’m not good.”
Sam pushes out a deep breath. “I’m so sorry, Wilbur.” He’s quiet for a minute. “Does your mom know about that?”
“She saw Pa tonight ‘n’ got really mad.” Wilbur puts his face in Tommy’s hair again. “She grabbed me ‘n’ Tommy an’ brought us here. Then she left.”
Sam’s quiet again. “Okay,” he says at last. “I’m gonna take you and Tommy someplace safe, okay? And then another social worker is gonna ask you some more questions.”
Wilbur can’t stop the little whine that comes out. “I’m tired.”
“I know.” Sam shifts. “You can sleep as soon as you finish talking to the other social worker.”
Sam takes Tommy away, and Wilbur answers more questions about his stepfather, even though he doesn’t want to.
When the woman is done talking to him, she brings him to Sam’s office. The green-haired man is sitting behind his desk, and Wilbur looks around and sees Tommy on a cot in the corner, curled up in his blanket.
Wilbur feels really shaky and sick. He wraps his arms around himself tight and looks over at Sam. “C’n I go to sleep now?”
Sam comes over and kneels on the floor a little way away, nodding. “In a minute. Are you hurt?”
Wilbur always hurts, but he doesn’t say so. He shakes his head.
“Hungry?”
Yes, but- “I’m really, really tired.” Wilbur scrubs his jacket sleeve over his eyes, trying really hard not to start crying. “Can I please sleep?”
Sam’s expression softens. “Yeah, Wilbur,” he says quietly. “I’m gonna grab you another blanket. You can lay down on the cot over there with Tommy, or on the couch if you would like that better.”
Wilbur goes over to the cot, not even bothering to take his shoes off before wrapping himself around Tommy and falling straight asleep.
~~~
They stay in their first foster home for three months.
Wilbur learns pretty quick that the new rules are the same as the old ones. Keep Tommy quiet, keep him out of the way, don’t bother the parents. Or the siblings.
The foster mom hits Wilbur a few times, and Tommy more because he’s loud, and when Wilbur tells Sam about it the social worker gets really mad and takes them to the next place.
They’re in the second house for six months. The parents are really nice, but after a while they have to move, so Sam comes to take Tommy and Wilbur away.
The next parents keep them for a long time. They want to adopt Tommy, they say, but not Wilbur. Wilbur gets upset about it, and Sam has a lot of talks with him about what’s best for Tommy and maybe needing to let him go. In the end the parents get tired of Wilbur’s crying and whining, and decide that neither of them is worth the effort.
Sam doesn’t act like it very much, but Wilbur knows he’s annoyed. Wilbur knows he screwed up the placement and if he had just let them adopt Tommy maybe things would be better for them but Wilbur couldn’t let his brother go. He can’t let anybody take Tommy away from him.
The fourth house is really bad, and one night Wilbur packs as much of his stuff in his backpack as he can, and takes Tommy, and walks the three miles to Sam’s office.
They don’t go back to that house, but after that Wilbur sees a bright red ‘FLIGHT RISK’ stamp on his file. And Sam explains that it means foster parents are going to watch him closer from now on to make sure he doesn’t run away again. And says that he should call Sam if he needs help.
~~~
Wilbur Soot is sixteen and so, so tired.
Jaded. That’s the right word. He’s sick of life. Of the constant cycle of foster homes, of decent placements and bad ones and the knowledge that things could be so, so much worse.
He sits on the couch in Sam’s office and stares, numb, at the floor. Beside him, eight-year-old Tommy is asleep, his head resting on Wilbur’s arm.
“I know,” Sam’s saying, to whoever he’s talking to on the phone. “You’re basically my last hope. I need a place for them, just for a couple nights.”
The answer must be satisfactory, because Sam sighs in that particularly relieved way. “Thank you. We’ll be there within the hour.”
Wilbur wraps his arm around Tommy’s shoulders and continues staring. He’s so tired. He doesn’t want to do this anymore, the song-and-dance of a new home. New rules, new parents- new kids, if they’re particularly unlucky.
Then again, it’s not like he gets a choice.
“C’mon, Wilbur,” Sam says gently, and Wilbur blinks and realizes the social worker is kneeling in front of him. “I found you and Tommy a place to stay.”
Wilbur sighs, doesn’t answer.
Sam carries Tommy out to the car without waking him up, and Wilbur sits in the passenger seat and stares out the windshield at the night.
He’s tired. He’s so tired.
The house they stop at is fairly big. Nice. Wilbur follows Sam down the sidewalk, keeping his arm wrapped around Tommy who is awake now but sleepy-quiet.
The door swings open before they get there. Wilbur takes the man in in a quick glance- he’s a little shorter than Wilbur, blond, and he’s smiling just enough to look almost welcoming.
“Hey, Phil. Sorry for the late call.” Sam steps aside slightly. “This is Wilbur, and Tommy. Boys, this is Phil.”
“Hi,” Phil says quietly. “Why don’t you come in?”
Wilbur follows him into a living room. He doesn’t sit down, instead casting a suspicious glare at the pink-haired teen sitting on the couch, reading. Just their luck, another kid.
“This is my son, Techno.” Phil gestures. “Techno, Wilbur and Tommy.”
Techno grunts, a not unfriendly sound. Wilbur stays quiet.
“I bet you’re pretty tired, huh? Why don’t I show you your rooms.”
Wilbur shrugs. Follows Phil to the bedrooms he indicates.
It takes him a long time to fall asleep.
~~~
Phil gestures for Sam to follow him into the office.
“Thanks again,” the social worker says as he sits down, sighing. “This means a lot, Phil.”
He shrugs, sits opposite Sam. “It’s just a bit sudden after the last placement, is all.”
“I’m sorry. Puffy and I don’t often communicate. We don’t usually have time.”
“It’s fine.” Phil shrugs again.
Sam passes the two files across the desk. They’re thick, and Phil eyes the bright red ‘FLIGHT RISK’ stamped across Wilbur’s.
“Is that something I need to worry about?” Phil asks, tapping the file.
“He only ran away once.” Sam looks tired. “The parents were physically abusive, and he took Tommy and came to me after the foster brother tried to assault him and the parents refused to listen.”
So, probably not a concern, then.
“They’ve been through a lot,” Sam says quietly. “I’ve tried to get them into therapy a couple times, but most foster parents don’t want to pay for it.”
Phil exhales slowly. “Poor kids.”
“Yeah.” Sam rubs his forehead. “Ah- how long are you able to keep them?”
Phil considers that. “How long do you need?”
“There’s never enough time,” Sam says bitterly. “Two months is your max, right?”
“Yeah.” Only one foster has ever made it to the two-month mark in Phil’s home, and that’s Techno.
“Okay. Two months, tops.” Sam straightens. “Ah- questions?”
“I’ll let you know if I have any.”
“Right. You have my number.”
After seeing Sam out, Phil opens Wilbur’s file and starts flipping through the pages. Feeling more and more grieved and concerned as he gets farther back in descriptions of past placements. Of one that offered to adopt Tommy, and how badly Wilbur reacted.
Of the circumstances surrounding the boys’ removal from their parents, of a neglectful- at best- mother and an abusive stepfather arrested for child trafficking.
He needs a minute to process that last fact.
When he’s done having a crisis over the boys’ early childhood, Phil flicks quickly through Tommy’s file. It’s noted that Wilbur is basically his primary caregiver, which doesn’t really surprise Phil given that they were thrown into the system together at eleven and three.
When he’s finished, he has to take another minute to sit and breathe, because the two files he’s just read are the hardest he’s seen yet.
Phil’s suddenly overwhelmed with the need to hold his son. He locks the files in his desk drawer and goes quickly into the living room. Techno’s still sitting, reading, and Phil leans over and wraps his arms around the teen’s shoulders.
Techno huffs, bringing one hand up to swat at Phil’s wrist. “What?”
Phil closes his eyes, trying not to imagine what Techno’s life might have been if he hadn’t been removed from his parents’ house in time. “I just needed to hold you,” he murmurs, resting his cheek on Techno’s hair.
Techno grumbles, but he sits and lets Phil hold on to him. After a couple minutes Phil shifts, kissing the top of Techno’s head, and releases him.
“Rough files?” Techno guesses.
Phil moves around the end of the couch to sit beside him. “Worst ones yet.”
Techno hums, tucking his foot under him and leaning against Phil’s side. “How long are they stayin’?”
“Two months, at most.” Phil wraps his arm around his son’s shoulders. “You’re okay with this so soon after Niki?”
Techno shrugs. “’s fine.”
“You can tell me if it’s not-”
“You said Sam said they really needed a place to stay. So it’s fine.”
Phil hesitates, rubbing Techno’s shoulder. “These two might require more of my attention,” he says after a minute, quietly. “I’ll try to check in with you more often, but if you need anything, please let me know.”
“I’m not worried about that, Dad.” Techno huffs, swatting Phil’s arm in what Phil knows is an affectionate way. “I know you love me.”
~~~
It’s been a month, and Wilbur still isn’t sure how to feel about this placement.
On the one hand, Phil and Techno are nice. They are- quite literally- the kindest people Wilbut has ever met. They respect his boundaries, and they don’t ask invasive questions, and when Tommy had a panic attack one day Phil just held him until he was okay.
On the other hand- this all feels too good to be true. Phil is too careful, the rules are too easy to follow, Wilbur feels too safe and comfortable.
Especially because he knows that eventually, one way or another, it’s all going to end.
Wilbur’s therapist- because he goes to therapy now, because Phil’s willing to pay for it, to spend money on temporary kids- would probably say he’s being paranoid or refusing to let himself accept a good thing or some bullshit. Wilbur wouldn’t know, he hasn’t brought it up with Dr. Garner. And he doesn’t plan to.
After all. There’s a time limit on that, too.
Wilbur doesn’t want to want this but he does, because he’s weak and he can’t help it. He thinks he could be happy in this house and that scares him, because he can’t have it. They have one month left, maximum, and then they’re out. Off to the next house, the next parents, the next set of rules.
Even harder than convincing himself is reminding Tommy.
“I wanna stay,” Tommy announces one day, and Wilbur has to bite back tears.
“That’s not up to us,” he says softly. “You know that.”
It never is. They go where Sam takes them, and they stay there until something bad happens or he comes to take them away. That’s just the reality of life.
“We could ask,” Tommy suggests, weakly hopeful.
Wilbur smiles, sad and strained. “You know we can’t.”
Wilbur had thought they could, once. In the second house, the one where the parents liked them. He’d asked, and two days later they were back in Sam’s office. The parents had said they were moving.
Wilbur knows better now.
Foster kids just don’t ask to be kept. They’re temporary, only allowed to stay till the parents get bored of them or find someone better or just- throw them away like yesterday’s trash.
Tommy knows that, too, and he doesn’t bring it up again.
God, Wilbur wants to ask so badly. He wants to beg Phil to please, please let them stay. Please take care of them. A part of him thinks Phil would say yes, but Rational Wilbur knows that asking could get him in trouble. Or get Tommy in trouble. And for all that Sam trusts this house, this foster parent, Wilbur can’t let himself trust.
It’ll hurt too much when it all comes crashing down.
~~~
They’re nearly to the end of the second month when Sam calls.
“Hey, Phil.”
“Sam. What’s the good word?”
A sigh. “I’m having trouble finding them a placement. Wilbur, specifically.”
Phil’s heart aches. “He’s too old.”
“Yeah.” Sam pauses. “I hate to ask, but would it be possible to extend their placement there? Just until I can find a home to take both of them.”
Phil considers that.
On the one hand, he cares a lot about Wilbur and Tommy. They’re good kids, and Tommy in particular seems happy here. And they fit into the family dynamic- well, Wilbur might, if he let himself. On the other hand, he has to consider Techno first, because Phil committed to that when he adopted him.
“I can get them into a group home if necessary,” Sam says when Phil doesn’t answer. “It’s just that the home I usually send boys to is full right now-”
“Let me get back to you,” Phil says. “I’ll call you tomorrow at the latest?”
“Great. Thanks,” Sam says, sounding relieved. “It means a lot, Phil.”
He hangs up, and Phil takes a minute to breathe. Then he texts Techno.
-Phil: Would you come to the office, please? We need to talk.
-Techno: ur not gonna believe this
Phil’s phone pings just as Techno opens the door, poking his head in with a slight smirk. “I was literally on my way to talk to you.”
Phil hums, gesturing. Techno closes the door behind him, comes across to sit on the couch. Phil joins him.
“So, what’dya need?” Techno asks, pulling his braid over his shoulder and twisting the end.
“No, you were coming to talk to me. You go first.”
Techno hums, staring contemplatively at his hands for a minute. “I think Wilbur and Tommy should stay,” he says at last.
Phil blinks. “Uh- okay?”
“They fit, Phil.” Techno glances up, meeting his gaze. “Here. With us. They- it just feels right.” He huffs. “I’m not explaining well.”
“Take your time,” Phil murmurs.
The teen is silent for a minute, picking at his hands. “They feel like family,” he says at last. “Like- Dream and Foolish and Niki were great, but they’re just friends. Wilbur and Tommy fit.”
“So you think we should foster them long-term?”
“I mean, I know we would have to agree about that. And I don’t know if that’s what you want, and that’s okay, but I just- I thought I’d tell you what I want.”
Phil considers for a minute. And damn, he really is a sucker for Techno saying “I want”.
“We can think about it,” Phil says at last. “We should talk to the boys, too. See what they think about it.”
Techno nods. “So, uh- what did you want to talk to me about?”
“Funny thing.” Phil smiles slightly. “Sam called to ask if Wilbur and Tommy could stay longer while he tries to find them another placement.”
Techno stares for a second, chuckles. “So you were checking in to make sure I was okay with it.”
“Exactly.” Phil shifts. “Look, I care about them too, Tech. But this has to be what they want. And we both have to be absolutely sure.”
You have to be absolutely sure, Phil thinks, but doesn’t say. He, personally, is pretty sure. He wants Wilbur and Tommy to stay, if they want to. But he needs Techno to be sure, too, because as much as Phil loves Wilbur and Tommy, they’re not his sons. And Techno is.
“I’ve been thinking about this a lot,” Techno says. “I’m sure.”
Phil cups his face, smiling. “What did I do to deserve you, huh?”
Techno reddens. “Phiiiiiil…”
Phil just leans forward, pressing a quick kiss to Techno’s forehead.
~~~
Wilbur is pretty sure something’s up.
But he can’t really bring himself to care.
It’s probably just that it’s been two months and their time here is almost up. Sam said, he said two months and then the next placement. And it hurts, because Wilbur likes it here and he wants to stay, and he knows Tommy wants it more.
He almost thinks…
If Phil were to say he wanted to keep Tommy, just Tommy, Wilbur thinks he would let him. It would kill him to let go of his brother, but Wilbur is tired. He’s so tired and maybe it would just be better to let Tommy go, let him stay somewhere he’s happy and safe and cared for.
Whatever would happen to Wilbur after that… doesn’t really matter.
So when Phil comes to him that night and says, “Hey, mate, we need to talk” Wilbur just gets up and follows him.
Tommy’s already sitting in the living room, with Techno. Wilbur forces his numb limbs to carry him to a chair facing the couch.
Phil sinks down in the chair opposite, a gentle smile on his face. “It’s nothing bad,” he says gently. “We just wanted to ask how you’d feel about staying longer.”
Wilbur blinks, unable to respond right away for that strangled hope swelling up inside him. “Extend the placement?” he manages after a second.
“Yeah. Techno and I agreed that we’d like you to stay, if that’s something you’d be comfortable with.”
Wilbur can’t shake the fear. “Both of us?”
“Of course.” Phil’s expression softens. “I’d never separate you, Wil.”
“I want to stay!” Tommy chirps.
Phil smiles at him, glances at Wilbur. “We’d love to have you,” he says gently.
Emotions swell inside him, and Wilbur has to choke down a sob. He’s so tired. He knows, he knows this can’t last. It won’t be forever. But Phil is offering him a chance to rest, just for a little while longer, in the first foster home where Wilbur really, really wants to stay.
“Okay.” He nods, barely getting the words out. “Yes.” Please.
~~~
Wilbur doesn’t know how to trust this.
He wants the safety, the love. He craves it and it hurts and he has it and he wants it, he wants it so much. And he doesn’t know how to trust that it won’t be taken away.
He walks on eggshells around Phil and Techno. Watches Tommy’s personality bloom, and for once doesn’t try to make him stay small and quiet. Because Phil’s never hurt either of them, even when Tommy’s yelling at the top of his lungs because he doesn’t want to take a bath.
But Wilbur- Wilbur keeps himself contained, quiet. Unobtrusive. He can’t dare to be anything else. Because as soon as Phil sees his broken parts, as soon as he knows how badly Wilbur was screwed up by bad homes and bad foster parents and his-
As soon as Phil knows the truth, it’ll all be over.
So he holds his head up and pretends that it doesn’t hurt every time he lets them touch him. Pretends that he doesn’t want more.
It’s late, and Wilbur can’t sleep.
He knows why. Tomorrow’s his birthday, and Wilbur has never once had a good birthday in his life. Most people don’t even remember that it is his birthday, and while Wilbur always tries to do something special for Tommy’s, his are just…
Another day.
Wilbur finally kicks the covers off and goes downstairs to get some water. Techno’s sitting on the couch, reading, and Wilbur holds his breath as he goes past. Maybe he won’t hear-
“Hey,” Techno grunts, quietly.
Wilbur flinches, glances over. He doesn’t trust his voice right now, so he raises one hand, hoping the gesture’s visible in the dim light.
Techno closes his book and gets up, and oh- oh, no, he’s coming over. Wilbur ducks into the kitchen, makes it all the way to the cabinet and gets a glass before-
“You good?” Techno asks, still quiet, leaning against the counter.
Wilbur swallows, nods. “Just- couldn’t sleep,” he rasps.
Techno’s silent, watching Wilbur fill his glass and take a drink. Wilbur curls into himself, uncomfortable under the older teen’s gaze. Part of him wants to snap at Techno, but Wilbur knows that antagonizing Phil’s actual kid is a sure way to get himself thrown out.
When Wilbur puts the empty glass in the sink, Techno nods towards the living room, where there’s one light on beside the couch.
“I’m gonna be up a while yet,” he says quietly, “you can join me if you want.”
Wilbur watches Techno go, tucks his arms tightly around his stomach. He should… go back to bed. He really should just go back to bed.
He goes and curls up on the opposite end of the couch.
Techno doesn’t pick his book back up, instead tugging a blanket off the back of the couch and tossing it gently in Wilbur’s direction.
“Huh?”
“You look cold,” Techno says.
Wilbur stares for a second, but wraps the blanket around himself. Techno turns the TV on, putting on a nature documentary, volume barely audible.
Now Wilbur’s really confused.
“What’re you doing?” he hisses.
Techno shrugs, leaning back and putting his feet up on the coffee table. “Phil’s tried-and-true method for getting people to drop off. You’ll be out in no time.”
Wilbur tangles his fingers in the blanket, looking away.
Techno’s silent for a few minutes. “Wanna talk about it?” he asks after a minute.
“About what?”
“Why you can’t sleep.”
Wilbur sighs, watching the manta rays on the documentary. After a minute he shrugs. “Doesn’t matter. Besides, you probably won’t care.”
“I’m here,” Techno says quietly. “I’m listening.”
And there it is, another thing Wilbur’s always wanted: someone to help. He carries all of Tommy’s problems, he’s there for everything his brother needs, but no one is ever there to carry things for Wilbur.
And maybe, maybe this isn’t going to last. It’s a foster home, a placement, temporary; but for now, for now Wilbur thinks he can have this.
“Tomorrow’s my birthday.”
Techno hums, soft and encouraging.
“It’s just… another year older, you know? Another year closer to aging out of the system and being separated from Tommy.”
“…oh.”
Wilbur beats back the unless, unless. There’s no reason to hope, even now, that anything is going to change.
“Phil wouldn’t let that happen,” Techno says after a minute of silence.
Wilbur scoffs. Right, because Phil has anything to say about it.
“Look, Wil, I don’t really know a lot about what you’ve been through but- but Phil is good.” Techno’s tone goes soft, and when Wilbur glances over, he sees the older teen is wearing a smile to match. “He’s trustworthy.”
“Of course you’d say that, he’s your father-”
“Actually he’s not.”
Wilbur gapes.
Techno looks uncomfortable, but he keeps talking. “I was a foster kid, too. So- I kind of get it. But Phil- he’s a good guy. I know I can’t say anythin’ to make you trust that, but he- he is.”
The thing is, Wilbur knows that. He’s been through a lot of foster homes and this is the best one by far, the only one he’s actually felt safe in since he was old enough to know what that feeling was. He knows, in the logical part of his brain, that Phil’s good. That he can be trusted.
But there are things that you can’t ask for, and one of those is adoption. Wilbur knows that, every kid who’s been in the system as long as he has knows that you don’t ask to be kept. Being chosen is a gift.
And Wilbur can’t do anything to risk this house, this family.
“Funny thing,” Techno says after another stretch of silence. “Tomorrow is my birthday too.”
Wilbur glances over quickly.
“Before I met Phil, I didn’t know that. He was the first person to- to ever care when my birthday was.”
Wilbur swallows down a wash of shame. “Forget I said anything, it- it doesn’t matter-”
“Nah, this is better.” Techno meets his gaze, smiling slightly. “I get to share it with you.”
Wilbur isn’t going to cry about that, he’s not.
“We’re twins,” he says, stupidly.
Techno’s flat smile turns into a splitting grin. “Twins,” he repeats, offering his hand.
Wilbur stares for a minute. Finally, gingerly, he stretches out his own hand, barely letting his fingertips make contact with the other teen’s.
Techno doesn’t force anything more. Wilbur, idiot that he is, wants more. He wants a hug, a real hug, but he doesn’t know how to ask. Doesn’t know how to do anything other than sit here, broken and hurting and so, so tired, and let Techno hold his hand.
Maybe, his heart whispers, maybe that’s enough.