Archive of Our Own ^beta

Tommy hadn’t been feeling well all morning, his head throbbing, and his body feeling like it weighed a ton. The annoying kind of cold that leaves you aching and half-conscious. Yet, he was still sitting behind the counter at the café, trying to look busy, attempting to drink some water and push through the day. He didn’t have the luxury of calling in sick. Not with rent due and everything else piling up. The tips weren’t going to make themselves, and that’s all he had. He could barely pay the bills as it was.

It didn’t help that his throat felt raw, but he pushed it down as best he could. The last thing he wanted was to go home and be stuck in bed with nothing to do. He was bored enough as it was with his thoughts, let alone having them circle around while he lay there, unable to get anything done. At least here, there was some semblance of distraction, even if it was just a couple of coffee cups to wipe down.

"Hey, kid," Puffy’s soft voice broke through his tired haze. She was the owner of the café, and unlike most people, she had a gentle way of speaking that made Tommy feel oddly cared for, even when he didn’t want it. She’d always had this quiet kindness about her. Tommy liked her—she was the type who never raised her voice but still made it clear when you’d messed up. A kind-hearted, strong woman, but one who didn’t push too hard.

"You look like hell," she said gently, her expression full of concern. She wasn’t being rude, but Tommy could tell that she saw right through him. “You sure you don’t want to take the rest of the day off?”

"I’m fine," Tommy muttered, waving her off. The last thing he wanted was for her to send him home. "Just a bit tired, that’s all."

Puffy didn’t seem convinced, but she didn’t press it. She just gave him a soft smile before moving to check the coffee station.

Before she could say anything else, the bell above the door rang, and in walked Wilbur. Tommy’s eyes immediately snapped to him, the familiar feeling of warmth rushing in, even though he tried not to let it show.

Wilbur always looked... effortless. His hair was tousled just enough to look like he didn’t care, his leather jacket giving him that casual, cool vibe. He didn’t even try. And yet, every time Tommy saw him, it was like everything else faded away. Wilbur was an easy kind of distraction—someone Tommy could lean on, whether he knew it or not.

He barely paid attention to the usual banter as Wilbur made his way to the counter. "Hey, Tommy. You look like death," Wilbur greeted him with a grin, leaning on the counter. His eyes sparkled with that natural humor that Tommy loved, even when he was barely holding it together.

"Yeah, thanks," Tommy muttered, trying to hide his wince as he straightened up, his head spinning a little. "I feel like death, too."

"Something light today?" Wilbur asked, his hands moving over to the menu board. "I’ll go with my usual."

"Yeah, sure," Tommy replied, still distracted by how good it felt to see him. He wiped a few crumbs from the counter as his mind wandered. “Tubbo’s spending the night at Ranboo’s... a friend from his work, apparently,” he added, his voice trailing off.

Wilbur nodded, not missing a beat. “Nice,” he said, then added with a grin, “Well, don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere. You can rest.”

Tommy couldn’t help the tiny smile that crept up at that. It wasn’t much, but Wilbur's words meant something. More than Tommy could really express. With everything else in his life being a constant mess, it was a relief to know that someone, even if it was just for a moment, cared. And Wilbur had this way of doing that—making Tommy feel like everything was going to be alright. Even if it wasn’t.

Puffy walked over, raising an eyebrow as she looked from Tommy to Wilbur. “Are you sure you’re good, kid?”

“I’m good,” Tommy said, probably for the fifth time today, but this time, it wasn’t convincing. “I’ll be fine.”

Wilbur, ever the observant one, narrowed his eyes but said nothing as he paid for his usual. “Make sure you rest, yeah? I’m coming to check on you later.”

Tommy barely managed to wave him off, his mind a little too fuzzy to focus. “Yeah, yeah, whatever.”

But then Wilbur did something that made Tommy’s heart stutter—he reached out and patted him on the shoulder, a brief touch that made the room feel a little warmer. “Take care, Tommy. Seriously.”

It was just a pat on the shoulder. But for some reason, it felt like so much more. Tommy’s heart thudded harder than it should’ve.

Later, when the café was mostly quiet and Tommy was still trying to push through, Puffy gave him a look. He had just wiped down the counter again, the exhaustion taking over as the hours dragged on. He was probably close to passing out at this point, but he tried not to show it.

"Tommy, honey," Puffy said softly, walking over to him. Her voice was firm but kind. "I think it’s time you head home. You don’t look well. And I know you don’t want to leave, but I can’t have you pushing yourself this much."

Tommy opened his mouth to protest, but she raised a hand, silencing him with a smile. "Wilbur’s here, right? Let him take you home. I’m sure he’ll make sure you get there safely."

Tommy blinked at her. "Wilbur? I… I don’t need to—"

“I insist,” Puffy cut him off gently, before turning her gaze toward Wilbur, who was just finishing up his coffee. "Wilbur," she said, her voice still soft but now a bit more authoritative. "Would you mind taking Tommy home? He’s clearly too tired to walk back on his own, and I’d feel better knowing he’s in good hands."

Wilbur’s expression softened, a slight nod of understanding. “Of course,” he said easily, standing up and walking over to Tommy. "Let’s get you home, yeah?"

Tommy was too tired to argue, and the warmth of Wilbur’s presence was comforting, even if it made him a little embarrassed. He wasn’t sure why Wilbur would go out of his way like this, but he didn’t have the energy to question it. He just nodded, grateful.

As they stepped out of the café together, Tommy could feel the cool night air hit him, but it was a welcome relief from the stuffy warmth of the café. He was barely aware of where they were going as Wilbur guided him along, his arm lightly brushing Tommy’s shoulder every now and then.

When they reached the apartment, Tommy felt his head spinning a little. He hadn’t expected Wilbur to come this far with him, and it made him feel oddly… cared for. But he wasn’t sure if he could trust that feeling. It was complicated, after all.

“Thanks, Wilbur,” Tommy muttered as they reached his door. "You didn’t have to come this far with me."

Wilbur just smiled at him. “I know, but I wanted to. You don’t have to do everything on your own, you know.”

Tommy tried to protest, but he was interrupted by a loud “Tommy, get in bed!” from Wilbur, who had already pushed open the door for him. Tommy looked at him, blinking in confusion, before sighing and letting himself be guided to the couch.

"I'm fine," he grumbled, but it was clear he wasn't.

“Sure you are,” Wilbur replied with a gentle laugh. "Now, get some rest. I’ll be here, okay?"

Tommy, too tired to argue anymore, slumped back into the couch and closed his eyes. He barely registered Wilbur moving around the apartment, talking quietly to himself as he set up something on the table. But when he felt the blanket being pulled up around him, it was like his body just melted into it.

“Wilbur?” Tommy asked softly, his voice rough from exhaustion.

“Yeah?” Wilbur’s voice was right there, just beside him.

“Thanks,” Tommy mumbled, barely able to keep his eyes open.

Wilbur’s answer was soft and simple. "You’re welcome, Tommy. Rest up. I’ll be here."

And with that, Tommy fell into a deeper sleep, the world spinning away as he felt a sense of safety he hadn’t known he needed.