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Wilbur thinks that this is easily the worst idea that he's ever had in his entire life, which is really saying something considering how awful the majority of his other ideas are. He walks along the beach with his hands in his pockets, doing is absolute best to ignore the child that walks along beside him, pretending that Tommy doesn't exist, that Tommy isn't actually there. He keeps his eyes set forwards, refusing to even look down at his little brother, both out of sheer embarrassment and spite. Wilbur wonders where he went wrong in life, but only for a brief second before he realises that bringing Tommy with him was probably when that happened. He ducks his head, staring down at the sand underneath of him as he walks, heaving a sigh, eyes scanning over the pebbles that are littered throughout the beach.
"Will, this is boring," Tommy complains, because of course he does. Tommy always complains, it's his thing. Wilbur hates it, and he hates Tommy even more. Though that's not entirely true - he doesn't hate Tommy, no matter how much he would like to think that he does. His little brother is one of the best parts of his life, even though Wilbur would absolutely beat him to death if he wouldn't get arrested. He thinks that Phil would probably let him get away with it, but he's not completely sure. He'll have to ask when they get back home, Wilbur decides to himself, still opting to ignore Tommy. "Wilbur," Tommy groans, punching him in the shoulder. Wilbur sighs, wondering briefly if anyone would stop him from committing a hate crime against a sixteen year old boy. He thinks that if he were a stranger watching this all happen, he would definitely look away and not call the police. "Wilbur Soot, you are a bitch. You are ignoring me, and I find that quite rude," Tommy complains at him, hitting him again. "You are such a bitch! Will, come on! I'm not even doing anything! You are a bitch! This is why you don't have a girlfriend."
Wilbur wonders when being a bitch equated him not having a partner, and then he remembers that it's Tommy who he's dealing with, so it makes sense. "I'm not ignoring you," Wilbur says, because he really isn't, not anymore, at least. He definitely did try his best to ignore Tommy, but it's incredibly difficult. It doesn't help that people stare at him if he pretends like Tommy isn't there for too long. Clearly they've never had a little brother before. Clearly they've never had a Tommy before. "I'm just focusing on walking so I don't trip and die," Wilbur pauses for a brief moment, "just like what you're about to do." Tommy yelps, stumbling back at the idea of accidentally tripping. Wilbur grins, tilting his head up, feeling a burst of pride settle in his chest. There's nothing in front of Tommy other than a flat patch of sand, which is part of a bigger, flatter patch of sand that makes up the entire beach.
Tommy scowls at him, his eyes narrowed so sharply that Wilbur thinks if looks could kill, he'd be dead. Wilbur wishes that looks could kill, because then he wouldn't have to deal with Tommy's absolute bullshit that he puts Wilbur through every single day of his life. "Fuck you," Tommy grumbles, jamming his hands in his pockets rather angrily. Wilbur smiles, continuing to move along the beach without saying another word. They're almost to the place where they're supposed to be, anyways. "You know, I actually really do hate you. I'd beat you to death with my bare hands if I could get away with it," Tommy tells him, sounding all very matter-of-fact. "Which I could. They can't arrest me, 'cause I'm sixteen. I could definitely get away with it." Wilbur rolls his eyes, sparing a glance over at his little brother, wondering why he decided that this as a good idea. To be fair, Wilbur thinks to himself, this wasn't all his idea. He had simply suggested it to Phil, who then forced him into doing it, so this isn't his fault. He'll go and yell at Phil when they get back home, which he already planned on doing anyways, but now he's definitely going to do it.
"Okay," Wilbur agrees, glancing over his shoulder for a moment. "We're here," he announces, stopping in his tracks, leaning back on his heels as he motions ahead of them. Wilbur swings his backpack off of his shoulders, crouching down to the ground, setting his bag in front of him. He unzips the front pocket of it, opening it to reveal a small ziplock bag filled with birdseed and rice and other things that Wilbur bought a day or two ago. Wilbur pulls out the back, tossing it over to Tommy, who fumbles before he manages to catch it. Wilbur snorts, ducking his head as he zips his bag back up, slinging it over his shoulder. He adjusts the collar of his overcoat, shivering a little when he feels the wind blow on the back of his neck. "Try not to kill them."
"I'm a very responsible adult," Tommy tells him, sounding entirely serious. "I'm not going to kill ducks, Will. That's just boring. However," Tommy narrows his eyes at him, though there's a smile very apparent on his face. "I'd kill you without a second of hesitation. And I'm being serious about that, Will. Where are the ducks?" He asks, titling his head to the side. "I don't see any of the fuckers. Are they, like.." he pauses, blinking a few times. Wilbur swears to god that he can see the gears rattling around in Tommy's head. "Hibernating?"
Of course that's the word that Tommy chooses to say. Of course. Wilbur really doesn't know what he expected. Wilbur really doesn't know why he expected anything from Tommy. "No," Wilbur sighs, starting to move again, glancing down at a rock that shines in the sun, catching his gaze. He pauses, reaching down to take it, shoving it in his coat pocket. Might as well, he thinks to himself. "Ducks don't hibernate, Tommy. They just fly somewhere warmer," Wilbur looks up at the sky, closing one eye as the sun shines down on him. He thinks that they're definitely going to be here for a lot longer, considering how it's only June, almost July. "I swear to god, sometimes I don't know if you're actually joking or not. You know," Wilbur pauses, turning to look at his little brother, scanning him for a second. "Never mind. I take it back."
"What?" Tommy laughs, rushing up to be right next to him, walking by his side. "What were you gonna say, bitch? Huh? Huh, bitch? Huh?" Wilbur sighs, though he can't help but smile. It's nice to be able to do this, he thinks. It's nice to be able to actually have a couple moments of peace with Tommy. It isn't like their lives are particularly interesting, given everything, but it's not like their lives are boring, either. It's nice that he's able to take Tommy out to go and do something mundane like this. "Will," Tommy whines, moving the bag of birdseed to his other hand, punching Wilbur in the shoulder with his right. Wilbur sighs, counting that as the third time Tommy's hit him today. That just means that Wilbur's going to have to punch him six times, but that means that Tommy will retaliate and punch him even more, and then Wilbur's going to have to punch him more, which is fine because it's funny and because it's Tommy, but then they'll just spiral into a constant punching match. "You are such a bitch, you know that?"
"Uh-huh," Wilbur confirms, grinning as he spots a head of pink hair in front of him, though it disappears a second later. "I'm sure that I am. I was going to say that you might be good at poker, but as soon as I thought about that, I remembered that you're you," Wilbur teases, smiling a little as he thinks of what Techno and Phil have set up. "They're right up ahead," Wilbur tells him, feeling his chest tighten a little. If Tommy doesn't like what they've done, Wilbur will understand. He just really, really hopes that that's not going to be the case. Wilbur spots Phil, watches his eyes widen before he ducks down, and tries his best to stifle a laugh so Tommy doesn't catch on. "They like to move from location to location, so next time that we do this, they might be closer," Wilbur explains, feeling nervous. "Or farther away, who the fuck knows? Ducks are little shits. Sort of like you."
"Wilbur," Tommy starts, his voice entirely deadpan, "I am not little." Wilbur grins, trying to ease his nerves. Of course that's the only thing that Tommy would take away from that. Wilbur really isn't surprised. Thank god, he thinks to himself, for Tommy and his way of making everything about him. It takes the pressure off of Wilbur for only a moment, which he's incredibly thankful for. Even if Tommy doesn't know that he's doing it, he always manages to make Wilbur calm down a little, just by talking about himself.
Wilbur breathes out, closing his eyes for half a second, shifting on his feet. "We're here," he announces, as loudly as he can. It's the codeword, and as soon as the words leave his mouth, he watches as Techno and Phil jump up from behind their little hiding place, bright-eyed and grinning, their faces entirely lit up. Tommy stumbles back, raising an eyebrow up to his hairline. He looks over at Wilbur, his mouth ever so slightly open. "Happy one year, Tommy."
"Happy one year...what?" Tommy blinks, screwing up his face as he very obviously tries to figure out what they're celebrating. There's a long pause, and Wilbur can see the exact moment where it hits Tommy. "Oh," he whispers, his voice soft. "Oh."
On this exact day, this exact time, Tommy was brought home. Admittedly, that day was probably one of the worst days of Tommy's life at first, but it's been an entire year, and it's definitely gotten better. Wilbur hopes that it's gotten better, he hopes that Tommy's life is better by his standards, not by everyone else's. "Heya, mate," Phil smiles at him, leaning back on his heels. "Figured that we should do something special for today, huh?" All of Wilbur's worries, every single one of them, disappear when Tommy's face breaks into a grin, his eyes shining with unshed tears. "Aw, mate," Phil laughs, moving over to stand in front of him, Techno following. "You don't have to cry." Techno stands by Wilbur's side, resting his hand on Wilbur's shoulder, a soft smile settling on his lips.
"We did good," Wilbur whispers to him, feeling both terrified and excited at the same time. "Didn't we? This was a good thing, right?" He pauses, tapping his foot against the ground far too fast, hoping that he doesn't send too much sand flying up into the air.
"We did do good," Techno confirms, squeezing his shoulder a few times. Wilbur smiles, nodding along with the words. "You did good, Wilbur. Seriously, I don't think I'd have been able to keep him distracted enough to actually get him here on time. I might have just pushed him off into a river or somethin' like that. How do you manage to keep him alive even when you want to.." Techno grins, motioning with his other hand. "Kick him off of a pier?" Wilbur laughs, running a hand through his hair.
"Fuck if I know," he grins back at his older brother, watching as Phil and Tommy talk to each other in low, hushed voices. "You guys did a really good job of setting everything up," Wilbur smiles, glancing to the picnic basket and blanket that sit out on the beach. He narrows his eyes for a second, brushing past Techno. "Oh, fuck off!" Wilbur laughs, shooing away the goddamn ducks that have already infested the area. He watches as they waddle off as fast as they can, a few stragglers staring him down for another couple of seconds before they follow the others. "God, these fuckers are so-" Wilbur gasps when he feels someone barrel into him, wrapping his arms around the body. "Hi."
"Shut the fuck up," Tommy murmurs into his shoulder. "Thank you, Will. I don't..I just.." Tommy sighs, trailing off. "Thank you. For all of this, for the entire thing. For setting all of this up, for literally just being you, thank you. Thank you, Wilbur. Seriously, I don't think I could-"
"Shut the fuck up," Wilbur echoes, laughing as he pulls away from his little brother, keeping his hands on his shoulders. "You've got nothing to thank me for, okay?" Wilbur tilts his head to the side, raising his eyebrows. "We're family, Tommy. Of course I did this, of course we did this. Thanking me for something that was always going to happen is useless. So.." Wilbur trails off, beaming. "Shut the fuck up, sit the fuck down, and eat whatever the fuck Phil's decided to poison us with today."
"My cooking is fine, you little shit," Phil laughs, brushing past the two of them to sit down on the blanket. "You literally burnt ramen, Will. You burnt fucking ramen, you have absolutely no room to talk here, yeah? You're lucky that I still actually feed you, mate. If it were up to me, I'd go and make you scavenge for your food," Phil grins, popping open the basket. "But you'd probably just go and dig in the trash."
Wilbur laughs, looping an arm around Tommy's shoulders, moving him to sit down with the others. "Yeah, yeah, whatever. Judge me because I've got actual taste, I see how it is. That's just bullying, Phil, and I don't stand for bullying," Wilbur sits down, just to further his point. "See? Bullying is wrong, Philza."
"I swear to god, you little fucker," Phil jabs a finger at him, grinning. "One of these days I'm going to make you cook for yourself, mate. I'm going to teach you how to actually use spices rather than just pouring an entire fucking bucket of salt into your goddamn microwave meal." Wilbur grins, taking the sandwich that Phil offers him, grabbing the other one for Tommy.
"You know," Tommy murmurs, looking over at him. "We really are brothers." Wilbur ducks his head, feeling his chest tighten at the words.
"Stop," Wilbur tells him, a soft smile on his face. "I will cry."
Tommy grins, punching him in the shoulder a second later. "Anyways!" Tommy shouts, grinning so hard that it has to hurt. "I think we should rename this day to Tommy Day, because that would be very cool," he nudges Techno, beaming. "Also, everyday should be called Tommy Day. You wanna know why? Because I am just that cool. I am so cool. I am the coolest person alive," Tommy bites into his sandwich. "I've got many girlfriends, too. Did you know that? I have so many girlfriends, I can't even name them all, I've just got too many.."
Wilbur grins as he looks up at the sky, listening to his family bicker and laugh with each other. He thinks that this day might be one of the best ones in his entire life, because without Tommy, none of this would be the same. His life would be so much more dull than he could ever imagine. Thank god for that annoying fucking child, Wilbur thinks to himself. He wouldn't have anything any other way. Every single thing that's ever happened to him was worth it, Wilbur thinks. All of it was worth it. It was all worth it, because now, now he's home. He's with the three people who matter more than the world itself, and Wilbur would give up anything to stay with them for the rest of his life.
Today is perfect. Not just because of the weather or the food or anything, but because of Tommy. Today is perfect, because it's the day that Tommy came crashing into all of their lives, and Wilbur is so, so thankful that he did.