[FIC] Doubt
It's nothing special, simply a quick, really short one-shot that came out of nowhere (I literally wrote it in fifteen minutes.) I might expand it to make it longer (A LOT longer) but in case I decided against it I wanted to share it all with you because I love you ;D.
Title: Doubt
Fandom: Tokio Hotel
Pairing: Tom/Bill (did you think any differently?!)
Disclaimer: Not my boys...although I wishhhh they were.
Rating: PG
Warning: Not beta'd. Short. Twincest.
Summary: Bill isn't sure he can do this anymore.
Bill's not so sure he can do this. At one time in his life his music had been his everything. He only ever needed the rush he could get only through entertaining their fans and seeing their happy faces singing his songs right back.
Now, he's not so sure he can ever go back.
Singing hurts. His vocal teacher had told him that was normal the night before on the phone. In time speaking and singing wouldn't hurt anymore. Bill doesn't believe her.
Telling Tom his fears, that maybe he didn't want to sing every again hadn't been such a good idea, either. They aren't speaking but Bill doesn't care. Talking hurts and the less he talks the better he feels. He can pretend it's okay this way, when he doesn't have to talk and reassure everyone that yes, he'll be okay and no, he doesn't need any more help.
****
Three days after the initial fight, the door to their shared bedroom flings open and slams against the wall. Tom stands there, holding a poorly wrapped lime green package. There is a fire in his eyes that Bill only ever sees when they're making love. Tom throws the package at him while he's thinking this and it hits him square in the chest.
"What the fuck, Tom?" he snaps but even the simple sentence makes him shudder and look away. He doesn't see the look of disappointment on Tom's face and maybe it's better that way.
"When you're ready to stop feeling sorry for yourself I want you to watch that."
Bill sees red.
"Go to hell, Tom!" Funny how it doesn't hurt when he screams.
"I'm not letting you give up everything you've worked for! And you're crazy if you think any differently." Maybe he wants to be crazy, Bill thinks. Everyone already thinks he is so why not prove them right?
Tom leaves the room before he could half-heartedly snap anything back. He hates fighting with Tom. The feeling it leaves in his gut after his brother walks away makes him ill. He rolls over, wanting to ignore the package.
It doesn't work.
Five minutes later he is furiously ripping the paper into shreds. When a DVD falls into his lap, his eyes widen and for the second time he sees in red.
Zimmer 483, Live in Europe.
"Fuck you, Tom!"
***
After the DVD stunt, Bill refuses to even look at Tom but that's alright; Tom isn't looking at him either. Tom had told Georg and Gustav, very loudly and very rudely over the phone that evening that they might need to start looking for a new job. The entire time he was yelling over the phone he glared in Bill's general direction but never quite at his brother.
Bill cried himself to sleep that night. It wasn't his fault. It wasn't like he asked for a cyst, or that he didn't care. He did care. Disappointing their fans was something he never wished for but really, if they loved him and the band as much as they all say they do (he's read the fan boards and he knows what they think) then they would understand. So why can't his own brother understand?
He spends the next two days thinking and at the end of the second night he has come to a decision.
****
Two nights later, Tom awakes alone to the sound of a drum. It's two o'clock in the morning and Bill's warm body isn't pressed against his own. They've barely spoken two words to each other but Tom hates sleeping alone and Bill has yet to stop him from getting to bed so he figures it's okay. They can go back to ignoring each other in the morning. The night has always been their time.
The steady drum beat he can hear from the living room isn't going away. It's not loud but it pulses through the room and eventually it can't be ignored. He has to find out what his stupid, crazy little brother is doing with drums at two am.
What he sees when he enters the living room comes as a surprise. It's a sight he was afraid he would never see again. Bill is dancing along with the Bill on the television screen, singing loudly, looking more alive than Tom has seen him in weeks. His eyes are closed as he belts out the words to Monsoon, grabbing at an invisible microphone.
Bill's not going to give up on music. It's clearly written on his face when the song concludes and Bill opens his eyes. There are tears in his eyees and when he smiles that beautiful smile at his television self, Tom heaves a sigh of relief.
Bill doesn't acknowledge him but Tom knows that Bill knows he's there and that he has seen everything. Not a minute later he goes back to bed with a smile on his face.
In the morning he wakes up again to find Bill dancing but this time in the kitchen, making up lyrics to a new song while he makes them both a hearty bowl of cereal.
Bill doesn't say thank you but the kiss he plants on Tom's lips says enough.