Fic: Through the looking glass (12/15), Tokio Hotel gen, rated PG13

[peki]

Title: Through the looking glass (12/15)
Genre: Twins gen
Rating: PG13
Summary: Tom falls asleep one night and wakes up in a place he never thought he'd see again. Five years ago, Tom falls asleep one night and wakes up in a place he couldn't wait to see. Will they get back where they belong?


The caterer had set up an eclectic buffet of desserts in the kitchen, given Bill instructions on how to warm the dumplings and the weird loaf that Bill had tried to pass off to Tom as a duck - “it’s a tofu duck, Tom, we’re vegetarians now!” - and everything was just about ready when the door bell rang.

Bill burned his fingers lighting the candles on the dinnertable in his excitement. “That’ll be mom and Gordon and our babies!”

“Babies?” Tom asked dumbly, but Bill was already skipping into the hall. A moment later, Tom heard his mother’s warm, affectionate voice greeting Bill and his heart suddenly leaped in his chest. His mom. He hadn’t realized how much he’d missed her until now.

Before he could come forward and greet her, there was a flurry of activity in the hall, a loud bark, and then a large dog came running in, skidding on the hardwood floor. Tom let out a surprised whoop. He didn’t know the dog, but the dog seemed to know him: he jumped at Tom, barking excitedly, and licked his face.

“Ugh. Down!” Tom laughed. Surprisingly, the dog listened. He sat at his feet, looking up at Tom with big, expectant eyes, and Tom leaned down and petted him, smiling.

“He knows you,” Bill said, pleased. He came walking into the living room, a wriggling dachshund under each arm.

Tom stroked the dog’s head. “We have dogs!” He laughed, delighted. “Is he mine?”

“Yes, he’s yours. These are mine.” Bill set the dachshunds down and they ran up to Tom, bouncing excitedly around his feet. Scotty the Labrador followed at a more dignified pace that befit his status as an old Kaulitz family member, but he, too, greeted Tom with an enthusiastic lick.

“Where’s Tom? Where’s my boy?” Simone’s voice came cheerfully from the hall, and before Tom had a chance to brace himself, she stood before him, her smile quickly giving way to a look of shock. “Tom?” she exclaimed. “Boys, what happened?”

“Mom, don’t freak out,” Bill rushed to explain. “Something’s happened, we’re not really sure what, but, long story short, he’s visiting from the past.”

“I can see that!” Simone stared at Tom. Her hair was longer and a dark shade of brown now, her face was a little fuller, there were a few more laugh lines around her mouth, but otherwise, she was still the same. Still their old mom. Her hands fluttered like bird’s wings, not unlike Bill’s did. “Gordon, come and look at this!”

Gordon came swaggering in from the hall. He, too, was mostly unchanged: haphazardly dressed, his customary hat lopsided on his head, smiling his broad, cheerful smile. “Guys, what have you come up with now?” He stopped short on the threshold, raising an eyebrow at Tom. “Oh. Well. This is unexpected.”

“I’d say,” Simone gasped. “Well. It’s a day full of surprises, then.” She put her handbag on the sideboard by the door and took off her coat to reveal a big, round pregnant belly.

“Wow,” Tom said to Bill. He jerked his chin at their mother. “I thought when you said ‘babies’ you meant the dogs!”

“I did,” Bill muttered, stunned.

Simone flung up her arms. “Surprise! Although I must say, this is nothing compared to what you sprung on us!”

“Nothing?” Bill squealed. “Oh my god, mother! This is… I can’t even… Oh, come here, you!” He rushed over to her and hugged her fiercely, then attacked Gordon to shower him with affection.

“Well. The more the merrier, right?” Gordon laughed, patting Bill on the back. He looked Tom up and down. “Hey, Tom. Who would’ve thought we’d see you again.”

“Goodness.” Simone came to stand next to him and studied Tom’s face curiously. “How is this even possible?”

“We don’t know,” Bill said. He stood behind Simone, peering over her shoulder.

Tom felt a little uneasy under all the scrutiny. At least the dogs seemed to find no fault with him. They sat at Tom’s feet, wagging their tails.

“Where’s Tom? I mean, our Tom.” Simone looked around.

Bill’s shoulders slumped. “He’s gone. This one here replaced him. We think he might be with younger me, in the past.”

“Wow,” Gordon said. “Bill, I think I need a drink.”

“I need to sit down.” Simone sat heavily on the couch, looking up at Tom with curious eyes. “Oh, honey, what happened? You’re not supposed to be here yet.”

“Believe me, I know,” Tom said dryly.

“How long have you been here?” she asked.

“Two days.”

She glanced at Bill, who was busy pouring two large glasses of vodka, one of which he handed to Gordon. Tom’s stomach lurched unpleasantly. “How are things?” Simone asked Bill carefully.

He shrugged, taking a sip of liquor. “It’s been a bit of a rollercoaster.”

Another thought seemed to occur to her. Anxiety crept into her voice, worry like Tom had never heard from her before. “You haven’t let anyone seen him, have you? If anyone finds out--”

“Don’t worry, only Gustav and Georg know. I told the bodyguard he was my cousin.” Bill sighed. “I’m hoping we’ll figure things out before it becomes a real problem.”

“Gee, thanks,” Tom snapped.

“Aw, baby.” Simone held out her arms. “Come here. Don’t be angry with us, we’re just worried.”

Tom cautiously shuffled closer. Where he came from, he didn’t usually cuddle his mom anymore; did she expect him to? He put an arm around her in an awkward half-hug. “I know. But weren’t we going to celebrate Christmas?”

“We were. We are.” She reached out and squeezed his shoulders, then, to his dismay, patted his head like a child’s. “Aw, you still have your dreadlocks.”

Tom drew back, mortified. “Yeah.”

“He’s a little jumpy,” Bill said. He came to stand next to Tom and put a hand on his shoulder. “Do you want a drink, mom? Tom?”

“Yes, please,” Simone said. “Some water?”

“Sure.” Bill went into the kitchen and returned moments later with a glass of water and one of Coke, which he handed to Tom.

Tom scowled at him. “Can’t I have a beer or something?”

“No,” Bill said firmly. He raised his own glass. “Welcome, mom, Gordon. Uh, baby.” He shook his head. “Honestly, mom, how could you not tell us?”

“I wanted to surprise you,” she said. “How could you not tell me your brother has vanished?”

Bill shuffled his feet. “We were a little busy. This is all new to him, where he comes from, we haven’t even released Monsun yet.”

Gordon chuckled wryly. “That’s gotta be something.”

“Blissful oblivion.” Simone pressed a hand to her mouth.

Bill frowned. “Mom--“

“I’m sorry, boys, it’s just…” She jumped up, swaying a little on unsteady feet. “Tom!” she cried out, and fled. The bathroom door banged behind her.

Awkward silence followed her departure. Bill sat down hard on the edge of the coffee table and hid his face in his hands. Gordon stepped up to him and touched his shoulder silently. The dogs trotted off towards the kitchen, their tails between their legs, as if they too could feel the tension in the air. Tom wished the ground would open up and swallow him.

Through all the years of his life, Simone had been a tower of strength. The separation from their father, moving out into a strange city, all the trouble he and Bill had gotten in at school… He’d never seen his mom so upset, and somehow it felt like it was all his fault. “I’m sorry,” he said, barely audibly.

“Merry fucking Christmas,” Bill ground out.

“This is not your fault,” Gordon assured them both. “I’m sorry, guys, she’s just a little emotional right now.” His hand made a curving shape in front of his belly. “I’ll go take a look, okay?” He went out into the hall and then they heard him knocking quietly on the bathroom door.

“You’ve come by your dramatics honestly,” Tom told Bill.

“Shut up.” Bill sounded strained. He stood slowly, his shoulders hunched like an old man’s under some heavy weight. “I’ll go put dinner on.”

Tom trailed after him into the kitchen, at a loss for words. He watched Bill put the weird tofu duck into the oven and the dumplings in water. Bill’s movements were edgy, as if he’d switched to autopilot. He was staring out the kitchen window as he bustled about, into the darkness of the night.

Tom fidgeted. “Can I do anything?” he asked.

“What? Oh.” Bill shook his head as if to clear it and straightened up. “Feed the dogs? Their bowls are under the sink.”

Tom took on the task happily enough, and the dogs actually seemed to know this routine. The big one that Bill had said was Tom’s was already sitting in the pantry, looking up at a shelf with expectant eyes as Tom shuffled in. He patted the dog fondly. “What’s his name?”

“Spot.”

Tom wrinkled his nose. “That’s not very creative, is it.”

“Don’t blame me, you named him,” Bill said. He leaned against the counter and watched the dogs run around Tom’s feet as he bent down to fill their bowls. “You enjoy simplicity, these days.”

“No wonder, I have to live with you,” Tom quipped and then Gordon and their mother came in.

Simone still looked a little shaky, but she went up to Bill without hesitating and put her arms around him. “I’m sorry for running off like that, honey, I didn’t really mean… You know how proud I am of you.”

Bill nodded solemnly. “Yeah, I know. It’s okay, mom.”

She turned to Tom. “And you! Come here.” Before Tom could resist, she was hugging him hard, which was weird with the belly between them. Simone took a few deep, calming breaths. “I’m happy to see you. I really am. I just hope our Tom is safe, too.”

“I think I’d know if he wasn’t,” Bill said. “Deep down, I’d know. Don’t worry, mom.”

Tom glanced at his brother. He was standing up straight and tall in the middle of the kitchen, his hands on his hips, looking for all the world like the rock star he was, poised and confident. No one would ever suspect now how afraid he really was, how doubtful and sad. He was a grown up; a man whose opinion their mother trusted. It was amazing to Tom.

Simone nodded. “You’re right. Okay. I’m done with my meltdown now.” She laughed lightly. “Now tell me, honey, what’s up with your hair? Is it a fashion statement?”

“More like an experiment gone wrong,” Bill said ruefully. “Long story. Dinner’s almost ready.”

They sat around the table as Bill began to relate the story of his newest haircut, glossing over Tom’s alcohol binge and some other worrisome details of that night. Tom kept close to his brother as he talked and felt Bill lean into him gratefully on more than one occasion. Bill’s arm brushed against his as he dished out their food.

“Do you like the tofu duck?” he asked Tom, who’d eyed the faux bird with some apprehension.

Chewing, Tom nodded. “It’s okay. A little strange, but I think I’ll get used to it.”

“Right.” Simone raised her glass to him, her eyes meeting Tom’s warmly.

“A toast,” Gordon proposed. “To the past,” he looked at Tom, “the future, and everything between.”

In the end, the evening wasn’t nearly as awkward as Tom had feared given the bad start, but a lot funnier. After dinner, Bill brought out the board games as was family tradition, and he and Simone made a competition out of who was the more outrageous cheat. Tom often caught him - he was Bill’s twin, after all - but their mom still had a few tricks up her sleeve that in all the years he’d known her Tom hadn’t been able to find out. Gordon, for his part, looked on indulgently as the game became more and more chaotic, nursing his beer and throwing in the occasional wry comment.

In all, it was a nice, quiet Christmas.

It was midnight when Simone declared she was tired and retreated to the guest room, but Tom didn’t feel like going to bed just yet. He found himself on the patio with Bill, both bundled up against the cold in their winter coats and blankets. They sat on a bench in a small alcove that was shielded from the wind by large evergreen bushes, companionably sharing a smoke. Somewhere in the nightly garden, twigs rustled as the dogs roamed the frosty brush.

“I can’t believe mom’s pregnant,” Tom said into the silence. He made a face. “It’s kind of gross, isn’t it?” Bill laughed. Tom looked up at the midnight sky, sparkling with stars. It was a beautiful, clear winter night. “How do you think this’ll all end?”

“They’ll live happily ever after,” Bill said.

“No, I mean this.” He gestured between them. “Our life. Our crazy life.”

Bill snorted. “Haven’t you had enough of looking into the future?”

Tom shrugged. “Aren’t you ever curious?”

“Sure,” Bill said. “But I just believe that it’s going to be okay. As long as we’re together, I don’t really care what happens. Especially now. I don’t care, I just want Tom back.”

Tom mulled this over. “Is that why he…I…we fell through time and you didn’t, do you think?”

“Maybe,” Bill said. He quirked a smile. “But also, I just really, really hated school. I haven’t forgotten. I’d never wish myself back.”

“Not even to change anything?” Tom asked. “If there’s anything you could change, what would it be?”

Bill was silent for a few long minutes. Then, he said, “Nothing.”

“Nothing?” Tom echoed, surprised. “You don’t think we ever made any mistakes?”

“Sure we did,” Bill said. “Lots. There’s been some really bad times, but there’s also been really, really great moments and I guess those wouldn’t be as memorable without the crap in between. Everything happens for a reason.”

“You think?” Tom didn’t know if he agreed with that.

“Yeah,” Bill said. He pulled his legs up against his chest and laid his head on his knees, peering at Tom from under dark lashes. In the dim light from the house, Tom could see his brother’s eyes gleam. “I have to believe it. We got lucky so many times... Our egg splitting, do you know what the odds are? Something like 0.4 percent. And there’s been so many other things…being in the right place at the right time to meet Gustav and Georg. Our contract getting picked up after Sony dropped us. My voice still sounding the same after the surgery--”

Tom’s stomach dropped. “What surgery?”

Bill bit his lip. “Don’t worry about that now. What I mean is, we’ve been lucky from the day we became us. I just don’t think it’s going to stop now.”

“Then why are you so worried about this whole switching thing? Me being here?”

Bill smiled ruefully. He rearranged their blankets a little so they were wrapped up snugly together. “I’m not… I just miss my Tom so much. We don’t function well when we’re apart. And I suppose I was a little,” he gestured vaguely, “shaken up yesterday. My mind kept wandering in morbid directions. I’m sorry.”

Tom shrugged. “It’s all right.”

“No, I really am,” Bill said. “I should’ve made you feel more welcome. Hey, how often can I call you ‘little brother’?” Smiling, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small box. “Merry Christmas, Tom.”

“I thought we didn’t get each other gifts,” Tom said, but his curiosity was already getting the better of him. He lifted the lid of the box to find a simple, nondescript key.

“I made an exception,” Bill said wryly.

Tom picked the key from the box. “What’s this for?”

“You’ll see,” Bill smiled. “Hang on to it, okay?”

“Okay.” Tom didn’t know what this was all about yet, but he trusted that Bill’s surprises would always reveal themselves in time; Bill was far too impatient to keep anything secret for too long. He stowed the key away in one of the many pockets on older Tom’s designer hoodie. Together, they sat under the stars, smoking in companionable silence.

“We should go to bed,” Bill said eventually. “It’s too cold out here, I’ll get bronchitis and that’ll throw off the tour rehearsal schedule.”

“In a minute,” Tom nodded. The tour rehearsal schedule. Much as he told himself he should worry about it, he couldn’t bring himself to. It felt too distant yet, too far removed in time from where he was, inside. The future was no longer hidden, but it was still intangible to Tom: he didn’t belong here, not yet. It was not his time to reach out and grasp it, make it his own. All he really wanted was to be back home with his Bill. He knew now what they were going to do, which path they were on. It wouldn’t always be easy, but that was okay: they would go it together.

“Oh, I almost forgot,” Bill murmured, “you haven’t even heard any of our new music yet.” He reached into the pocket of his cardigan again and held out an iPod. “Do you want to?”

“Sure.” Tom accepted one headphone from Bill, who put the other one in his own ear. They sat closely side by side on the bench, sharing their body heat and staring up at the sky as the music began to play. Synthetic beats meshed with Gustav’s drums, the deep bass line of Georg that thudded heavily like a heartbeat underneath the layered highs and lows of the melody. The beautiful whine of the guitar curled around Bill’s lyrics almost like a second voice, chased him up and down ever-climbing mountains of notes.

Tom listened intently, his mouth half-open. “This is us?”

“Yep.” Bill’s eyes were shuttered and faraway. His breath made quick, excited puffs in the cold air, like he was gearing up to take his place on stage. Ready, always ready.

“We’re good,” Tom said; only now did he realize that he hadn’t quite believed it.

“We are,” Bill said absently. His lips formed silent words along with the voice in Tom’s ear, that brilliant voice that could cut glass. It trilled in Tom’s head, made every fiber of his body rise to the call like he’d always risen to Bill’s voice from the moment he’d been born. He noticed his fingers clenched as if around the neck of a guitar, nails digging into his palm.

He needed this. The music, the bright lights, his brother beside him.

Above them, a shooting star raced across the sky. Tom squeezed his eyes shut tight, the bright white shower of sparks dancing across the inside of his lids, and made his wish.