revivalproject | Who Needs Sleep

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Who Needs Sleep

WHO: Tommy Shepherd, Billy Hargrove, Open
WHERE: Temba Greenhouse, Temba Diner, Temba Area
WHAT: Searching for Billy Kaplan
WHEN: First Day back on Temba, through all of February
WARNINGS: cw: abandonment issues, possible borderline self destructive behavior (in a physical sense)

I. Wearing Out Shoe Leather | Open

At first he let himself believe the absence wasn't an absence so much as the worst form of hide and seek ever. It would be just like his brother to do something like that after all. To have his communication device away from him, or to be talking to the Agrii and not looking it over, or maybe just his brother being temporarily unavailable. Hell, Tommy had even gone down into the under areas of engineering to try and check the tubes there.

And now that he was back on the surface of Temba, well, he was no longer having any damn fun with this game. Because... Because it needs to be okay.

Otherwise...

No. No, he's not going to think about the otherwise, alright? Instead there's a blur of speed throughout all of Temba. It stops here and there, like a humming bird flitting from flower to flower for food. Stops are brief, either to whip up a quick meal in the diner, or to search delicately through plants and trees and fragile ruins. All the while his voice tears through the air, calling the same series of names over and over, seeking, hoping, unable to give up.

"Billy! Billiam! Wiccan! Punk! Where are you?!"

Don't let him be alone. Please, don't... Don't let him be alone again.

II. Comfort In You | Closed to Billy Hargrove

He's tired. So tired. How long had it been since he'd eaten? Since he'd slept? Tommy frankly doesn't know. What he does know is that he goes to the only place that feels safe in his undeniable despair. On some level he remembers the feeling of sand on his bare feet, the result of him running enough to run his shoes to pieces. He remembers the door. Pushing it open. Moving to the bed. Collapsing onto it with a pathetic noise that he'll never admit he made.

Safe. His mind says he's safe. That Billy will be here, sooner or later. Not the one he sought. The other one. The one who will hold him and tell him he's not alone. That he won't be alone. Even if he was. Even if he had lost the other part of his soul (part of the other part of his soul), he would still have someone who cared.

So he needed this.

III. Burning the All Hours Oil | Open

Who needed sleep anyway? There was this whole fucking world to explore. Things to be done. Places to clean up or restore. Plants to be tended. The plants still needed him. People still needed him for food, right? Right. Yeah.

That's why it's three in the morning and he's hand examining every plant in the cumato area, checking the budding leaves for health. Nearby a few Funfronds seem to linger, trying to get his attention with their dancing, but he ignores them. Just focuses as he moves slowly from plant to plant. From spot in the soil to spot in the soil.

HE's been here for hours. Before this he'd been in the diner and cleaned every last surface and every last utensil. Before that it had been dusting in the Civics Center. Before that catching lobsters on the beach. Before that...

God he can't even remember. Hours were blurring together, as much because of his powers as because he was losing himself. His focus, his drive. Strange to think a lot more of it had depended on one person than he was prepared for. Two people now.

But the sleepiness is not good for him, clearly. Because the second he hears someone approaching he flinches. And flinching from a speedster isn't good. Why? Because between one moment and the next he's no longer standing where he was. He's several feet back, a trowel held up before him like it was a weapon meant to defend himself. His eyes are blurry, red from crying, and definitely not entirely there. Like he's lost.

Maybe he is.

"What do you want?" he snaps when he realizes it isn't danger that's facing him.

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"A pepper."

The answer comes finally, the Soldier's head tipping slightly to the side as he studies Tommy. He can guess at the source of the agitation well enough. Or one source at least; he can't assume that Billy's disappearance is the only thing bothering Tommy.

And he's not really here for a pepper, though he'll make good use of one if he can get it. No, he's aware that Tommy's been running around like a human cyclone lately. Tommy had stopped into the cabin he and Billy were constructing, but hadn't stayed. And to the Soldier's knowledge, he hadn't been back.

He stands still, watching Tommy carefully. He won't be the one to make the first move; Tommy's far too high strung for that. But he also doesn't leave, where once he absolutely would have.

Bullshit. They both know it is bullshit. Can Soldier see that awareness in Tommy's eyes? Probably. The guy was sharp as hell, and Tommy knew it. Hell, the guy had probably seen Tommy's earlier search. Of course the guy would show up now. To, what, claim that he was hurting too? Maybe he was, but could it be the same?

Could the guy understand the specific sort of hurt?

"He's not here," Tommy spits out rather than seeking the requested bit of food. "He's not anywhere. So don't bother looking. I already did."

It's partly bullshit; he really would have used the pepper. But its importance lay less in flavoring and more in the excuse. The Soldier knows that Billy would want him to look out for Tommy, as well as he knows that Tommy will insist he doesn't need it. But getting eyes on the man is important and makes him feel that he is fulfilling at least part of what Billy would want.

"I know he's not." He'd known when Billy hadn't returned that night; they'd fallen into their little routines and it didn't take him long at all to realize that the breaking thereof had a reason. The Soldier had still looked, over the following days, but it only confirmed what he already knew.

And maybe it was cold, not looking for longer himself, but the Soldier had been the one taken enough times to recognize what this is.

Oh, Tommy definitely needs looking out for. And he'd appreciate that his brother would want that for him. HE just also wouldn't think Billy gets to weigh in now that he's gone.

Still, Tommy's so angry and hurt that stopping hasn't been something he could begin to consider. Yet.

"Well then, what do you want?" he demands. Because he's going to make Soldier say it.

"That pepper."

Because yes, the Soldier is fully capable of being an asshole when he wants to. He crosses his arms, still casual but also not hiding the way he sizes Tommy up.

"And following through on a promise I made to Billy."

Asshole. Tommy purses his lips and is gone for half a moment. WHen he's back he's got something that looks pepper-like, but purple, and throws it right for the Soldier's head. Not that he thinks it will hit the guy, seeing as he threw it at a reasonable speed.

"I don't believe you made him a promise about me."

It's probably a good thing Tommy doesn't throw the pepper with all the force he could manage. That would be far too messy, and the Agrii might intervene — and where would their vegetable crop be then? As it is the Soldier raised his hand to smoothly catch the thing; now he'll actually have to use it but that's fine, he will.

"Believe what you want." Which might be a little cruel said like that, though it's not his intention; he's just stating fact. "I made him several promises, as he made to me. We don't need the validation of anyone else to know those promises exist, or to choose to fulfill them."

"You don't get it. Your word or not, you can't possibly get it. How this feels. It's like losing a part of m-"

Tommy miraculously gets to catching those words before he can finish them. His eyes flash briefly to Soldier's arm. That's... definitely a shit metaphor there. But he grits his teeth.

"I feel it, here," he says, hand coming up to his chest. "He never seemed to the same way I did. Maybe he had too much else in his heart. But I can feel the loss. The distance. It hurts, as much as when he shuts me out. How the hell do you watch over me when that's happening?"

"Yes. Can't imagine what that feels like at all." Though Tommy at least has the grace to realize that the comparison is not one to make. Still, he is suffering, and the Soldier is trying to cut him a little slack.

He looks at Tommy for a long moment, considering. "Food. Water. Sleep. Shelter. Those were where I started for myself. Some days they are all I manage."

Hey, grace offered toward someone going through pain was a good characteristic to have. Definitely not a superweapon thing. So Soldier had that going for him.

"Food," Tommy points at a nearby plant.

"Water." The sprinklers above.

"Shelter." A wider gesture to take in the whole building.

"Pretty set here."

YEah, ignore the lack of sleep.

Well, for now. There's always the possibility that Tommy will strain even his patience.

"You're not cute." The Soldier fixes Tommy with a look, unimpressed. "You haven't been sheltering here. And even if you were, you've only counted off three of four."

Tommy's a man of many talents. And most people considered him annoying. But he does grimace at the very plain calling out here.

"I mean, I feel sheltered. No elements. But as far as I know, it was Billy's sleep habits that were your business."

"Don't be crass." The Soldier doesn't appreciate the implication Tommy makes — it's nobody's business but his and Billy's. Just as Tommy's specific sleeping arrangements regarding who he chooses or does not choose to share his bed with is not the Soldier's business.

Crass is something he defaults to, but he winces. Because it wasn't quite what he'd meant. He meant that Billy shared a residential space with Soldier now, instead of with his twin.

"Sorry. Fuck. I didn't mean it like that."

"Didn't you?" A small part of him had to mean it, to lash out with it. The Soldier tries to tell himself to be patient with Tommy, but sometimes it's not easy. Especially when Tommy doesn't seem to want his help. He can't entirely blame him on that either.

"You're hurting, and you seek to cause hurt in return. Am I wrong?"

No, he just had metaphors in him. He would have said the same thing to anyone else. But he's still angry and hurt.

"There's no value in hurting. Hell, Billy would hate me for it. Hate me more for it."

Anger and hurt both have ways of twisting things all up. The Soldier tries to be patient in light of that knowledge. But Tommy certainly is testing his limits.

"Billy doesn't hate you." Because, well, he doesn't. The Soldier knows that for an absolute truth.

"He didn't here," Tommy counters. "Back home, this is when he starts icing me out. When he doesn't talk to me, or want to see me. When I learn about things I could have helped with weeks later from Kate because he forbids Teddy from tellign me."

"Doesn't." Present tense, not past. Billy hasn't been gone long enough to assume it's permanent. "And if you are so sure based on your past experience, why not try talking to him preemptively?"

Get ahead of the perceived problem, before it becomes a real problem. Or before the problem manifests itself simply from strong enough belief.

Maybe it wasn't permanent. But Tommy hated the lack anyway.

"You think I didn't try back home? Only so many times you get shut out before you're done, you know?"

"Does that preclude you from trying here?" Perhaps it does; perhaps the obstacles is so large that Tommy can't or won't try to surmount it. The Soldier can't imagine the feeling, because he doesn't really have anything equivalent to which he could compare it.

"I can't tell you what you should discuss with your brother. I can only tell you that he loves you very much, and he worries about you."

"Not as much as I worry about him," Tommy answered. Because Soldier couldn't know what it was like, watching Billy through the worst part of his life.

The fear he'd had for his new brother had been... deep.

"So you can acknowledge that he worries, but can't be bothered to take care of yourself. Which would make him worry more." In the Soldier's eyes it makes Tommy a hypocrite. But he doubts that Tommy cares much about his opinion.

"The best thing you can do for him is to stop sulking and take care of yourself. Because when he comes back, he's going to need you."

"He isn't here to worry," Tommy counters. Yes, he's a hypocrit. But who cares?

"He's not coming back. Why would you ever think he would come back?"

Because he's really frustrated. EVen when he was gone it wasn't for this long. People don't come back from t his long.

"So you need him here to be bothered talking care of yourself?"

That seems selfish to the Soldier, but he doubts he could explain it in a way that could be understood. Or at least, he doesn't think Tommy's in the right mindset to want to understand it.

"Why would you assume he wouldn't come back? I've been taken for far longer." And that had been hell on Billy, once he realized the absence; that had been before they'd really even become friendly.

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doubled_speed - 2025-06-03 03:04 (UTC) - Expand

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