#it's getting warmer every day and i can't draw him in a sweater for much longer

[jnpje]

hey. um. i love him

[corysmiles]

you can't say tinies have a shorter lifespan and then not drop little streamer angst where tommy and wilbur talk about it

In Sickness and in Health

Little Streamer AU

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Notes: Hurt/comfort! this actually didn’t end up as angsty as I planned but I hope you still like it! Ft. Wilbur having a crisis over his tiny friends’ lives

cw: language

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“Why didn’t you fucking tell me.”

Tommy shrugged from across the screen, his eyes never even looking up at the human glaring daggers at him. For a split second his mouth opened to spit out a response, but it never came.

Meanwhile every minuscule action on the tiny’s part made Wilbur’s blood boil. His hands dug into the side of his chair until he felt the pressure against his finger nails.

It had come up after a random news story. He’d been filming some video for Tommy’s channel and Phil had brought it up.

Wilbur had remembered reading about it but it didn’t seem like anything too alarming at the time.

A couple days before there had been an outbreak of some tiny disease in the US. He’d skimmed over it but he wished he hadn’t when Tommy made a comment leaving him more than a little concerned.

“Stay safe Techno. If you need anything let me know”

It wouldn’t usually be a red flag, but Tommy never seemed to let on his warmer side during recordings. And even when they were just talking he could count the number of times Tommy sounded so concerned on less than one hand.

And the conversation about the seriousness of the disease afterwards had left Wilbur here, arguing with a tiny who didn’t even seem that upset about his own fragile life.

“Tommy,” he seethed, “Look at me.”

The tiny shrugged again and leaned back against his makeshift chair. He was still wearing one of the sweaters Wilbur had bought him, and while the sight usually warmed his heart he didn’t think he could possibly feel more cold.

“Honestly Wil,” Tommy snapped, his voice cold, “I don’t know what you want me to say.”

Wilbur shrunk back into his seat. At the moment he felt small even compared to the tiny.

“You know what, sorry I never threw in ‘Hey Will I’m probably not living past 40’ into our talks,” Tommy frowned, “I’m sure you would have taken that well.”

Immediately Wilbur flinched like he’d been struck. The anger swirling in his head disintegrated until only one thought remained.

40

The teenager in front of him likely wouldn’t live past 40.

Neither would any of his other tiny friends, really.

If they even last that long anyway, his mind hissed.

They would get sick with no medicine to help them and while he lived on they would pass away. He felt sick to his stomach.

“Fuck,” Wil felt his eyes start to burn, “I shouldn’t have said anything.”

Tommy sighed, the sound vibrating through Wilbur’s headphones, “Its fine Wil, really don’t worry about it.”

“But it’s not,” he shot back, “Dude that’s not okay. You really think I wouldn’t care about that?”

Tommy shrugged again; from behind him Wilbur could just barely make out the shadows of the boys parents moving around the house. The teen’s “room” wasn’t completely closed off from the kitchen, so he kept turning his head- Wilbur assumed it was to make sure his parents weren’t listening.

“I don’t know I thought you already knew,” Tommy hummed, playing with a small piece of string from his desk, “And it’s not like you can fix it or anything. It is how it is yknow.”

“It shouldn’t be,” Wilbur glowered.

His fingers clenched so tightly he was sure it would draw blood. The image of the teen’s accepting expression would be forever burned in his head.

No one so young should have to be so accepting of their death. Especially not him.

“Well maybe it’ll get better,” Tommy sighed, “Never know. It just depends on if humans wanna help or not.”

Wilbur nodded and leaned his head back in thought, “They fucking better.”

The tired laughter from the tiny bounced through his headphones.

“Yeah,” Tommy yawned, “Just don’t think about it too hard. It’s what I do.”

The frown growing in Wilbur’s face tightened at the thought of just accepting it. But what else could he do?

He wasn’t a doctor or anyone who could actually help Tommy or Techno or the thousands of other tinies. He just had to hope humanity would help- that they’d get their shit together for once.

“I love you Tommy,” Wilbur muttered after a few seconds of silence, the only light in his room stemming from Tommy’s face on the computer.

“You too Wil,” Tommy hummed, “Get some sleep yeah. Don’t worry about it as much as you can.”

Wilbur nodded slowly and watched as his screen flashed. Just like that Tommy was gone and he was left to sit alone in his apartment with his new terrible knowledge.