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Tommy felt the darkness wrap around him, making everything so much worse. His breath was heavy, hair in his eyes, as he did his best to ignore the tightness of his chest, and the closing up of his throat.
Wilbur
Just, Fuck off Tommy.
His head hurt, trying to wrap around everything he had just read. The words reminded him of knives that dragged across your skin every time you took a breath. He feels his chest stagger as his body forces a breath in, making him register that he had been holding his breath.
The way his eyes burned was something he deserved, clearly.
When had he become so selfish? So mean?
His apartment was cold, his covers thin, and he kept the words on replay.
You never really cared… put too much pressure on me… vented without permission… too much…
How long had he been doing this to Wilbur? He swore, or could have sworn that they were perfect. As perfect as a healthy friendship can be, anyways. He didn't know… Why had it taken Wilbur so long to tell him?
He would have changed if he knew he wasn't doing enough, if he knew he was doing too much.
The heavy weight of his headspace loomed at the back of his mind, and he pushed it further down his closed up throat, and tight chest. He didn't deserve this.
A hand without any calluses from playing guitar, or warmth from a mug of coffee, or gentle kindness wiped the salty tears off his face. He scolded himself, unable to justify the tears across his face.
He deserved this.
He deserved to lose his best friend, because someone who made his best friend feel the way that Tommy did, didn't deserve Wilbur. Tommy didn't deserve Wilbur, because Tommy was nothing but exhausting to the man.
He should have never opened up.
It was clear to him now, that everything, on top of Wilbur's horrid mental health was too much. Why he thought that he was good enough for someone like Wilbur is beyond him.
He curled up next to the stuffed animal Wilbur bought him and let his tears soak it.
----
Waking up regressed was the last thing Tommy wanted to do, ever. It was disorienting and upsetting. It was even more upsetting to open his phone and not get an answer from his big brother when he messaged him the usual code for small.
Why wouldn't Wilby answer his messages? Did he not love him anymore? Did TomTom do something wrong?
Tommy hiccuped a sob and opened Tubbo's contact on discord, knowing that no matter what, even if Wilby didn't love him anymore, he wasn't supposed to be little alone.
"Tommy? Mate it's three in the-"
"Tub, Tub Wilby Wilby isn't answering me," Tommy tried to say between heaving sobs. The difficulty in speaking should have been a sign that the boy slipped a lot further than he had originally thought. His sobs had kept catching on his lack of air, and his sleeve had made it halfway into his mouth.
Tubbo was already halfway to the boy's apartment. Tubbo didn't deal with little Tommy often, but he did so enough to know when Tommy was teetering on the edge of baby space, and from what he was able to catch from the babbling between sobs, was that Wilbur was not answering.
"Wilby doesn't- he doesn't love me anymo-" Tommy wailed, a bit loud, considering his landlord, but Toby just tried to console the boy as best he could through the phone. Only two more minutes before he was gonna get there.
"Alright TomTom, I'm on my way okay? Bee is coming to take care of you baby, and Boo is in the car too." Ranboo was in the car. He was in the car, typing at a rapid speed, words of anger at the Little's caregiver. Neither Tubbo nor Ranboo had a clue what happened between the blonde and the brunette, but they both knew damn well that whether you're fighting or not, you cannot just abandon a little. Especially when that little regresses to baby space frequently.
Tubbo ran up to the boy's apartment, opening the door and running to the boy in his room.
"Ranboo, can you start on a bottle of the thicker angel milk?" Tubbo called while wrapping the blonde in his arms, rocking them back and forth on the bed, "Shh, love, Bee and Boo are here, we won't leave, I promise. Shhh," He ran a soothing hand across the Little's back, humming a unfamiliar tune to help calm the baby down.
"B-Bee," The little hiccuped into the boy's shoulder, body shaking in the other's arms.
"Shh, here, let's get changed little one. How does that sound? Your blue pj's sound good?" Tubbo hummed to the boy, nodding when the little hummed in agreement.
Ranboo walked in shortly after Tubbo had gotten Tommy situated in his more comfy clothes, and took over in holding the little. Ranboo helped the little feel small and look small, making the boy feel more comfortable, and regress more fully. So when Ranboo wrapped Tommy in a blanket, cradled the boy in one arm across his lap, and bottle fed him, it was not a surprise to either of the caregivers that Tommy grew sleepy.
The angel milk was sweet, warm, and thick going down the Little's throat, and it made him feel stuffy, and warm inside. Soon his eyes drooped, sliding closed as he finished the bottle.
All three of the boys ended up sleeping on the bottom bunk in Tommy's apartment, cuddled close around the boy and providing him with comfort and warmth.