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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Take care of him. Tommy sits up a little just to look at the other guy. No one really takes care of Tommy. Not even his brother. This is... new.

"Maybe I should just suck it up and deal," he challenges. Because he needs to push back a little. He needs to be sure Billy isn't going to think he's weak for this.

This is what Billy figured boyfriends did. The amount of times Tommy helped and took care of him was more than it reversed. He portions the meat on the plate, giving a bigger portion on Tommy’s side.

"Deal with me taking care of you? Yeah, you’ll deal with that. You’re allowed to be upset about your brother but that doesn’t mean I can’t look after you while you can’t." He holds the dish out towards Tommy. "Now you can eat this there or you can come cuddle with me and eat it."

That was a fair point. And when Tommy was more in his right mind he might even agree with it. But right now he's definitely not anywhere right mind.

"Okay," he says, his voice soft as he sits up. But he doesn't go to cuddle. Not yet. Instead he considers the lobster.

"Why did you go hunting?"

"There you go. Eat up. I can go get another if you need more. Don’t have a lot of seasonings left but I can make it work." He gently sets the plate into Tommy’s lap and rubs that same hand up and down his boyfriend‘s back.

"Got a little hungry but didn’t want to walk to the diner. These guys like to roam around and he looked at me funny."

Tommy should bring him seasonings. He's only supposed to show up with gifts. He told himself he was going to shower his boyfriend with gifts.

Now the promise to take care of him feels so much different.

"Thank you," he says at last. He was hungry. He should take this without hesitation.

Billy loves that his boyfriend comes out as far as he does. It’s a gift in itself. That hand does t stop moving, just rubbing up and down in a consistent rhythm. "Eat up babe and thank me afterwards if it tastes okay."

He leans over to press a lingering kiss to Tommy’s temple. "I’m not going anywhere tonight, babe. I promise. After you eat up, you can go shower and come back to bed to cuddle?"

Not going anywhere. He can't promise that. They don't get to make the choices. Tommy bites his lip to keep from crying again.

"My feet are sore," he confesses after a bit. So yeah, no shower. It's too far of a run.

They don’t but for tonight, he wasn’t leaving the beach house. Another kiss and he gets off the bed to squat front of Tommy. "I’ll be right back. Gonna get your feet right again. Not leaving this house, got it?"

He lets a hand rub over Tommy’s knee before he gets back up, going to gather a small pot and disappears into the bathroom. Long enough to fill it with water and come right back out. The pot gets put over the fire, heating up those contents. In that time, Billy stays in view of Tommy. The towel from earlier gets folded and then he fetches a second one from the nightstand. It’s been awhile since he’s needed to wipe the sweat from a nightmare away, so… it clean enough. Passable.

A check on the water and it’s transferred to a bowl. Back over to his boyfriend, the blond sits back down on the floor. The towels go in and soon enough, he’s wrapping one around a foot and the other gets the same treatment. "Not too hot is it? Should help the soreness. Gotta keep a speedster‘s feet feeling good."

Tommy doesn't agree aloud, but he also doesn't move. WEll, beyond trying to eat. It's hard to do what when your stomach is upset from stress.

"Oh," he says when Billy is done with the wrapping. "Yeah, that... That feels nice. I never thought of that before."

Billy tucks in corners to fasten the towels as best he can, then sets aside the bowl in the bedside table to deal with later. In the morning. Whenever. Tommy got his attention for now.

"Used to do it at night when I ran too long and made my feet sore." When he’d run away in the middle of the night only to go back, defeated. Billy returns to his spot on the bed, pressed to Tommy’s side. "Tell me about everything. Get it off your chest about your brother and I’ll help you feel better."

Or so Billy would hope.

"He's gone," Tommy whispers out, and he sounds so broken. "He's a part of me. At my core. We're... And he's just gone."

How do you even explain the way they are connected? A way only Tommy seems to feel?

Kaplan wasn't around. Gone? Billy frowns at the thought. He knows that the connection the twins has is... complicated to understate it. Part of each other by souls halved or something. Instead of going to Tommy's back again, the hand closest goes to rest on the guy's forearm.

"I'm sorry, Tommy. I know you two were really fucking close."

Billy didn't know what to do. You can't damp, hot towels around a broken heart, or feed it green lobsters. "I know that's probably a gross understatement because you mentioned vaguely about being two pieces of a soul... or something. I think you were trying to protect what bit of brain hadn't been rotted away by the sun."

Tommy was way too tired to fully put together just what Billy was saying. He was so tired, so worn out. But he doesn't really comment on it as much.

"He went home. If he went... If he went home, then he goes back to a time where I mean nothing to him. When he ignores me."

"Here," Billy gently eases the fork from the other’s hand to spear a small bite of the lobster. Then he leads it up to Tommy’s mouth for him to eat.

There’s a somber look. "What if that’s not true? Maybe he’ll come back from a different point where he knows you like he knows you here, close like the sand and water on the Cali coast?"

"Which would put him in a time later than I am," Tommy grumbles. He didn't care if he'd be 'younger' then, he'd just get to envy his future self for being so loved.

But he does take the bite of lobster. It did smell good.

Edited 2025-03-11 17:53 (UTC)

Billy levels a look at Tommy while the bite of lobster gets taken. Good. Another piece on the fork and held up for the speedster. "Then you know what's waiting for you down the road at home," he points out. "That the future self is something you'll have at some point."

He clears his throat a little bit. "How's the taste so far?"

"Future me is probably an asshole," Tommy grumbles. "And I won't have you there."

So he doesn't like the idea at all. But he takes a bite again to consider.

"Needs lemon. Of course we don't have any fucking lemons."

"And? Knew there was something I liked about you," comes the gentle tease. A little frown though. "That’s true. You have me now and you’re kinda stuck with me. Hope you’re ready for all your future headaches."

This time Billy takes a bite to consider it. "Yeah, think you’re right. Do we have anything kinda like it in the greenhouse or on the ships?"

"Only one thing?" Tommy asks, smiling. He doubts it. "And you're not a headache. Though you could be a headache cure."

Tommy sighs, frowning as he considers.

"Yeah. I think. I just don't think we have any right now."

"You cure everyone else’s headaches getting me wrangled back down to civilized." Billy sets the plate in his lap and carefully moves an arm around Tommy’s shoulder. "And that’s only because you’re so fucking handsome."

He didn’t know how to fix this for Tommy. Only that he could prolong whatever the inevitable was by distracting his speedster from it. Keeping those feet clean and wrapped; making sure Tommy ate something; keeping him comfortable during this. "How about we go to the greenhouse tomorrow morning and take a look? Maybe find something suitable for a substitute. Then we can go to the gym and I’ll workout shirtless for you."

"Bullshit," Tommy rolls his eyes. Billy would have gotten here even without him. It just would have taken more time. "And I'm fucking stunning."

Though he groans at the idea of walking that far. Going places he worked so hard in for his brother.

"Okay. But only because I like you shirtless."

"You are pretty fucking amazing to look at. We make a physically powerful couple for certain."

The fork‘s prongs stab into another bit that gets offered up to Tommy. "Few more bites for me. And I know you like me shirtless - that was my first clue that something’s wrong because you haven’t tried to feel me up." Billy was still shirtless after all, but that was irrelevant in the wake of his boyfriend‘s grief.

"You should eat too," Tommy points out. He shouldn't be the one eating Billy's dinner. He was supposed to provide for the guy.

WHich of course was a horrible way to think of it, but he was doing so anyway.

"Rude if you're not giving me permission. And I'm tired. I'm so tired."

"Shut up," he starts with, the follows up almost immediately with, "sorry. I want you to have this. I can make another. You’re tired, you ran so fast and for so long you’ve got not shoes and socks left. Let me just take care of you while you work through this, babe."

The fork gets wiggled a little, in an attempt to notice entice Tommy into eating the bite. "If I didn’t want to fucking share, you wouldn’t have any of it."

He gently knocks their shoulders together. "I know you’re tired. Also you’re my boyfriend. You’re allowed to get those hands on me when you want. Especially if I’m shirtless. Feet feeling any better? Probably sore from all that running."

So sore. He's sore and tired and heartbroken. But he takes the bite of lobster and chews it thoroughly before swallowing.

"I don't have the energy for hands on," he mumbles. Or the heart. But he's not saying that.

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