Change [1/2]

[elizabeth21r]

Title: Change
Author: elizabeth21r
Pairing(s): Tom/Bill
Rating: R
Disclaimer: I own nothing but the words.
Summary: When a horrible argument goes too far, the twins find themselves separated and angry on New Year's Eve. Only a few hours away are enough to make them see.
Author's notes: This was supposed to be for FQF 2009 but I didn't make it on time, apparently. The prompt was submitted by snitchdreamer : It's christmas time (possibly even Christmas eve) and Bill and Tom have one of their worst fights ever, both not wanting to see the other they separate. It'll take a special stranger or two, with a miracle or two, to remind them of why they’re so important to each other.
I'm not even sure I followed the prompt, but I do hope it's at least decent. Big thanks to Kellyn38 for the beta and the amazing
honey_x_flavor for the banner.

Opening his eyes with difficulty, Tom took his first conscious breath of the day. The room was dark except for the weak light coming in through the blinds, coloring the atmosphere. He tried taking a good, deep breath to get some oxygen in his lungs but the air was stiff and somehow warm in a weird way. It was winter but their house always seemed to hold a warmness that was difficult to find in December, especially in Germany. It made him feel a bit hazy when he woke up, as if he couldn't understand where he was or in which season he found himself.

He took the comforter off and sighed, bringing his hands to his face. He had no idea what time it was, and he couldn't tell by the color of the sky. Maybe if the blinds were a bit open he could understand whether it was morning or afternoon, but he couldn't stand the burning feeling in his eyes every time he was awake and there was light in the room. He turned on his side and realized he was alone - it didn't shock him. Lately, waking up in an empty bed had become a routine but he still couldn't really get used to it. His body tensed and he felt somehow numb. If he was honest with himself, he wasn’t sure it would be any different if Bill was in the room.

The thought of his brother filled his mind again, even if he hadn't opened his eyes for more than just a couple of minutes. Things were so weird between them lately and Tom didn't know who to blame, if he could even blame someone. The selfish part of his brain blamed Bill, and that part always took over any other.

Tom couldn't see any difference in his own behavior - he enjoyed the same things, he talked about the same things, he loved the same things he always did - so it was clear that Bill was the problem. Just the thought of it gave him a headache. He didn't want to think about it but it was there in front of him and he didn't like ignoring it either. He only hoped that they wouldn't fight, at least not during this calming Christmas week that would follow. He really didn't want them to welcome a new year like this.

A nostalgic wave of sadness showered his thoughts and he knew that his mood for the rest of the day was ruined. He wondered what time it had been when he came back the night before and if his brother had heard him. But of course he had. Bill could never let a negative thing go. Tom sighed again, rubbing his eyes and stretching his body. He just had to find the courage to get out of bed and meet his brother. This morning couldn't possibly go worse than any other breakfast.

--

Walking down the stairs, Tom could hear Bill's steps on the tiles of the kitchen. His brother was wearing boots, which meant he had already gotten ready, which meant that it surely was noon. Fuck.

"Yes, I know!" he said to somebody, and judging by the pauses that came afterwards, Tom guessed he was talking on the phone. "But it always seemed so disgusting to me that I can't imagine this thing is edible!"

He walked up to the door's opening with hesitant steps, even though his naked feet wouldn't make his presence noticeable. He took a sneak peek before he fully came into view, feeling foolish, but it was something he had been doing since he was a small child. He had never been able to come face to face with a possible punishment, so he would always steal glances towards the direction he was going before even starting to walk.

He stood there for a while studying his brother, who was futilely trying to light a cigarette with a lighter that had lately not been in the mood to grant him his wish on the first attempt.

Bill was well-dressed but not too formal as he always managed to find a balance in the way he presented himself. His hair was pulled in a loose ponytail that left his neck uncovered, which Tom always loved. Bill had always been so beautiful that he gave off the impression of something fake or plastic, and people always made the wrong assumptions about the eccentric boy because no one ever tried to get close to him. Moments like these, when Bill laughed on the phone, his face breaking into a delightful grimace, were enough to make Tom feel lucky for being able to see those expressions, even if they hadn't been directed at him for quite some time.

Tom's thoughts didn't last for long as Bill, having finally lit his cigarette, turned towards the door and noticed Tom was awake and in the room. His face immediately stiffened and became serious, perhaps even angry, although Tom sincerely hoped it wasn't the latter. Lowering his head, Bill turned his attention to the phone call again, and told Andreas that he would call later that night, the tone of his voice so cold that Tom almost felt his skin chilling.

The device was thrown against the counter and Bill leaned against its surface, crossing his arms and looking at Tom with such eyes that the older twin couldn't even tell which of the negative feelings was more powerful than the other. Neither of them sparing a word, Tom walked decisively towards his brother, leaning against him and leaving a kiss on the spot where his neck met the back of his ear.

It was a ritual they did each and every day even during the worst periods of their lives; Tom greeted Bill like that as a "Good Morning", not speaking at all. So that day, never mind his evident anger, Bill didn't move, not even huffing discontentedly when Tom's lips touched his skin. Both of them had been clinging to this moment in order to keep the idea of their relationship alive, as it most probably was the only indication of affection that was left between them.

Only a few seconds were enough for them to lose the mood of the moment - as many seconds as it took Tom to pour some coffee into a mug and sit on the table. Bill was looking at him intensely, and Tom knew that, sadly, he wouldn't get away with it.

"Tom," his brother started, and Tom hoped that he wouldn't start repeating his name over and over, which he did every time he was angry enough. "Do you know what time it is?"

Tom stayed focused on his coffee mug, blowing across the surface and watching the steam dance in front of his eyes and evaporate. "As a matter of fact I don’t," he said trying not to sound sarcastic because that really wasn't his intention.

Bill exhaled in irritation. "It's four in the afternoon," he said, emphasizing the time. "Fucking four 'o clock, Tom, and mom has been waiting for us since two."

Still staring intently at his mug, Tom didn't even raise his eyes towards Bill. For some seconds no words came out from either of them and, no matter how Tom's hopes were lifted, deep inside him he knew that this wasn't the end of their conversation.

"I can't understand your irresponsibility," Bill started once more, throwing his hands in the air as if he wanted to show how displeased he was, the cigarette dangling off his fingers, forgotten. "You know how important this was to mom. We haven't celebrated Christmas with her for years, but once more, you did what only pleased you."

"Don't overreact-"

"And even though you knew that she wanted us to spend just a little time as a family," Bill continued, completely ignoring his brother's attempt at speaking as he raised his voice, "you still chose to go out last night, have fun, drink and wake up in the afternoon!"

Tom lifted his gaze and looked at a frowning Bill as his face expressed a feeling of unfairness. He couldn't understand when going out had started to look unfair in his brother's eyes. "First of all, relax. It's not like it's night yet. Mom knows how late we wake up," he said, half-glaring at his brother. "Secondly, don't overreact. I didn't drink that much."

"Oh, spare me the crap, please," Bill retorted in a perfect expression of sarcasm. "Don't tell me you didn't drink. The whole room reeked of alcohol last night when you came back. What do you think, Tom? That I'm asleep and don't understand when you return home?"

Bingo

"...I mean, I can't understand you. Was just staying here that difficult for you yesterday?"

Tom frowned. "So, this conversation is happening because I didn't stay home and you were alone? It's not my fault you didn't want to come so don't tell me off. And you could have just woken me up, you know."

Bill let a long breath come out of his lips and shook his head negatively, not able to believe that Tom was playing dumb. "It's not about that, and I wouldn't want to make you uncomfortable by talking about who is and isn't at fault for the fact that we don't spend time together. I'm not your keeper, Tom. I clearly told you what my problem is, so don't play stupid."

Intensely trying not to answer to the charges his brother was pressing against him, Tom drank a sip of coffee and allowed its calming effect to relax his mind and wake him up. "It's way too early to be having this conversation, don't you think so?"

"No, Tom," Bill laughed sarcastically, "it's afternoon. I've been awake and ready for hours, as you can see."

Tom had definitely seen and he really would have made a compliment about how beautiful his brother was had he not been attacked before he was even in the right state of mind. "Okay, this is making no sense," he said and stood up, holding the cup and taking one last drink. "I'm going to take a shower and get ready. Can't keep the princess waiting-"

"Take a shower??" Bill shouted, seemingly considering that part worse than the fact that Tom had called him a princess. "I'll have to wait for you to take a shower? Are you kidding me?"

Tom blinked in question. "Uh, no?" he asked, and when he noticed that his brother's piercing stare hadn't softened, he added, "Come on, Bill, it doesn't take long."

"You're kidding, right?" Bill repeated. "Just washing your hair takes twice as long as I do."

He really didn't want them to go to his mother's after a fight because he knew just how important this family meeting was and God knew how long it would be until they did it again, but Bill wasn't really giving him any other choice. No matter what Tom said, his brother always had a negative reply on the tip of his tongue. "Nothing will happen if you wait for a bit, Bill, for crying out loud! Snap out of it, will you!"

Bill's eyes widened and took in a shocked breath. "Go to hell," he said, and inhaled from his cigarette before leaving the kitchen and heading towards the living room. "I've already been waiting for hours," he added, appearing again, holding his bag and wearing his coat. "If mom asks where you are, I'll tell her you died," were the last words he told his brother before striding to the door and slamming it powerfully as he exited.

Tom sat down at the table again and held his mug with shaking hands. He swung back a generous amount of coffee and felt his eyes tearing at the sudden burn. He sighed heavily and placed his elbows against the table, resting his head on his open palms. He breathed and breathed, trying to make the beats of his heart relax. He hated fighting so much.

--

The multicolored lights of the Christmas tree kept on flickering happily, making Bill's nervous eyes glow in different hues. The living room was covered in Christmas decorations as Bill really wanted to create a Christmas vibe. Or maybe he was just trying to give a warmer touch to the cold mood in their house. It was the ideal place to cuddle with somebody on the couch, watching a movie like "Love Actually" and barely focusing on it as the two of them paid more attention to each other than the plot.

But Bill didn't live any of these scenes.

"He's so weird," said Bill, resting his elbows on his knees. "You can't even imagine, Andi. It's like I'm speaking to a robot!"

Andreas frowned and looked at Bill in a funny way, as if wanting to say that he was overreacting.

"No, I swear!" Bill got his best friend first, "I'm not being over the top! Maybe you don't understand because you don't know him as I do or because he acts fine with the rest of the world apart from me."

"Ok, Bill, now you are definitely overreacting," Andreas commented, chuckling a little in his attempt to cheer Bill up. It didn't work. "Maybe he's just tired and that's why he looks like that to you? Life hasn't been all that easy on him lately..."

Bill sighed his frustration and shook his head negatively. "No, it's not that," he answered, "It's not like he's not in the mood or something because he goes out every night just fine."

"Bill, I really don't understand what your problem is," Andreas said honestly. "You shouldn't be so worried; maybe he's just going through a phase."

"A phase?" Bill asked in disbelief. "Are you kidding me, Andi? This is not a phase, it has become a routine! We don't even speak anymore. We meet at home in the same room, and it's like we're two strangers. Tom spends all his day barricaded in his room and I'm somewhere here watching television and my temper just gets worse. And I know very well why he's up there. He can't take the fights."

Andreas raised an eyebrow. "Do you fight a lot?"

"No, but whenever it happens it's really intense," Bill answered. He sighed heavily and brought his hands to his forehead, pushing back some locks of hair. "It's all so... weird and classic at the same time. It's as if Tom is on autopilot. He does the same things again and again; with the same reactions; no matter what happens it's like he's not affected. We could be having sex right here while he came in and still he wouldn't react."

Andreas grimaced and leaned forward, leaving the ash from his cigarette in the ashtray in front of him. He was the only person in the whole world that knew about the twins' relationship, and Tom didn't even know that. Bill would never dare to tell him because that would simply break every ounce of trust his brother had in him.

For Bill, Andreas was more than just a best friend, he was his shoulder to lean on when Tom couldn't offer that or when Tom was the actual problem. Simply put, Andreas was like the brother he'd never had, because Tom wasn't just his sibling. He was something much more. He was everything fused into one person; all the words and the smells and the sounds and the tastes and the feelings, all was Tom, something vital like the lungs or the brain, and of course, the heart.

And Bill's heart kept fading away as the months came and passed. It scared him and hurt him to see his life become more and more mediocre, more repetitive, more automatic.

"And it's Christmas," Bill complained, his stare locked on the Christmas tree he had spent so much effort decorating. He hadn't received a single positive comment about it from his brother. "Christmas has always been important for us, it has always been the moment when we get a little more peace and quiet and this year everything is so crappy..."

His shoulders had started trembling dangerously and Andreas leaned forward and placed a strong hand on top of them, squeezing, as if wanting to give Bill some emotional stability. He didn't really have any other way since he wasn't that good in these matters. "Come on, Bill, don't be like that," he said, his voice low. "You'll patch things up, you'll see."

Almost hugging his knees, Bill huddled up on the couch, watching as the smoke of his friend's cigarette was being colored pink and yellow and blue and green in front of the lights. "The night before yesterday when he came back in the dawn, he was so well-tempered," he said, his voice sweet and tender.

"And he came to bed and told me how perfect it had been and how it was my loss for not going, and I just couldn't muster up the courage to tell him off because I knew he had drunk and that there was no meaning in making him feel down. And I swear to you, I was really contemplating going with the fact that I'd get over it, because it was apparently my problem." He leaned forward and took his friend's cigarette, smoking the remainder. "Until we kissed and then I realized that he had screwed somebody and that's why he was in a good mood."

Andreas almost choked on his own spit. "Say what?" he asked, coughing lightly. "Are you joking? How did you even come up with this?"

"Believe me, I just know," Bill answered miserably. "And in the end I almost hit him and told him to get the hell out of here and never even think of sleeping with me again. And that's what happened."

"You're totally out of it, I really don't understand," said Andreas, lifting his hands high. "The rest of the stuff I get, but assuming that Tom cheated on you when you have no proof is mad."

"I wasn't expecting that you would understand," Bill answered annoyed, glaring at his friend. "I have enough evidence that I don't need to explain. That's not even what has affected me."

"Then?"

"Just... I had thought a lot of times that this moment would come," said Bill sadly. "And I always thought that I would be the one not able to follow Tom's desires, not the opposite."

And Andreas would have answered, except that the main door opened and Tom appeared, holding a bag with a frozen pizza and milk. Bill's eyes widened at his best friend and Andreas got the message.

"Yeah, it'll take place in my house," he said, as if continuing a conversation. "It would really be perfect if you were there too, it's been years since we last celebrated New Year's together!"

Bill smiled while looking at Andreas and Tom walked further into the room until he was standing behind the couch. "What are we talking about?" he asked enthusiastically.

"New Year's party at my place," Andreas answered, just as excitedly. "You're coming, right? Not taking 'no' for an answer!"

Tom lowered his head slightly, staring at his fingers and toying with the bag in his hands. His look gave off an aura of indecision until Bill nodded and then he agreed.

"Yeah, sure!"

--

New Year's Eve came surprisingly soon, even if it felt like ages to Tom. The twins barely talked the last week, desperately trying not to meet each other inside the house; it was big enough to succeed in that. Tom tried going out as much as possible and Bill tried to ignore that as best as he could.

Things had been quiet, but that certainly wasn't encouraging. Tom knew that playing mute made things so much worse, they kept gathering inside them, flowing in their bodies faster than blood, beating harder than their hearts but neither of them wanted or had the guts to start a conversation. Tom hoped that by giving Bill some space, his brother might have seen things from his own point of view and stop overreacting.

And he was wrong.

It was getting dark as Bill stood in front of the mirror in the living room, getting ready for the New Year's Eve party at Andi's. It was a promise they made to their best friend and as much as they both wanted to be off each others' space, they couldn't simply stop talking to people they both knew and loved.

Tom, already dressed and ready, thought it would be best to go to Bill then, and spend time in the same room, so it wouldn't get extra weird while driving to Andi's, or even once they were at his place.

Walking towards the living room Tom passed by Bill, secretly glancing towards his brother, trying hard not to stare at his beauty and attractiveness. Bill was dressed in black, something that never changed no matter how many years passed, and Tom fixed his eyes on the floor, walking by his brother's figure. He approached the couch and made a move to sit, when he heard his brother grunting in a disapproving way.

A sarcastic way. Tom wanted to go straight back to his room.

"For the love of God," said Bill, still painting his right eyelid in black shades, looking at the mirror and not his brother. "Can't you just dress like a normal human being for once?"

Tom took a deep breath, frowning. He decided that the best he could do was ignore Bill's insults, and try hard not to answer back. They were going to have fun tonight, or at least he would. Bill's well being was the last thing that mattered to him lately.

"Just by thinking that we'll stand next to each other... Couldn't you choose a more appropriate outfit?" Bill kept saying, murmuring a bit since he tried not to move his face a lot and ruin his makeup.

Tom sunk his body on the couch, looking straight ahead. He could stay calm, he was sure about it.

"Thank God we won't be together all the time; I'll survive the humiliation..."

Tapping his fingers nervously on his knee, Tom craved to walk towards Bill and smash his head against the mirror, but he would never forgive himself if he ruined his brother’s beauty like that. Groaning, he realized once more that lately Bill kept being simply an object of beauty in his eyes and not the source of warmness and security and inspiration as he used to. He didn't know if he was sad enough.

"Well, well, well," Bill said again, looking at his brother's direction this time. "You're not talking to me anymore Tomi, why? You're ignoring me in such an obvious way, what's the problem? Is it 'cause I have a penis?"

"Will you ever get ready?" Tom almost shouted and stood on his feet, turning around to meet his brother's gaze so maybe that way Bill could get the message of how annoying he was being.

Bill grinned, turning his eyes on the mirror and leaning towards it, staring hard at his left eyelid, maybe trying to edit a flaw that he was probably the only one who'd notice. "Yeah I'm almost ready, would you please bring the vodka so we can go?"

Tom stood still, frowning. "Bring what?"

Bill's movements stopped immediately, and he turned his head towards Tom, in such a slow movement; as if there was this huge sign above his head with enormous neon blinking letters that read: "I'm losing my patience".

"The bottle of vodka, Tom, the one I asked you to buy."

"No you didn't," Tom answered calmly, folding his arms. "Did you imagine that too? Since your mind keeps doing that lately."

"Don't fuck with me Tom!" Bill shouted, throwing the eyeliner hard on the shelve next to him. "I left you a note on the kitchen counter, a yellow little paper in which I asked you to buy a bottle of vodka for Andi, and once I was back home it wasn't there anymore, so you clearly read it!" he said almost hysterically, all in one breath.

"First of all, relax," Tom told him, his eyes tired. "I'm so sick of you whining all the time. You left me no note; stop being such a drama queen, we'll go now and buy one on our way there."

The younger twin frowned furiously, pressing trembling fingers on his forehead. "Are you such a dick?" he wondered. "You think I care about the vodka? I don't give a shit about the fucking thing, my problem is that you never listen to me Tom, you never care no matter what I say."

Tom's patience was long gone. "Oh really?" he asked, a sarcastic tone painting his voice as he walked towards his brother. "That's the problem? 'Cause I thought it was you having a penis."

Shaking his head in disbelief Bill stared at Tom with such sadness in his eyes that Tom felt the uncomfortable feeling slowly creeping towards his own body. "And you keep being sarcastic. You don't care about anything, the only thing that matters to you is having fun by yourself and you don't give a shit for what's going on with me, with us, you don't care about a thing."

"I do care Bill, even now I do. I do give a shit if we're going to leave the house safe and sound and go to our best friend's as we promised."

Bill laughed, unable to believe in his brother's words. "Even now you ignore the conversation, you just want to leave! I've been so patient Tom, you have no idea-"

"Fuck you Bill!" Tom shouted, shocked eyes looking at Bill. "Fuck you, talking about patience! I've been letting things go one after the other for your sake and you dare calling yourself patient?"

Bill let his arms drop free on his side and tried steadying his body on the nearest wall. He felt as if he'd pass out from all the tension. "Letting things go? What exactly did you let go, Tom? Do you even understand anything?" he asked in a whispering tone before his voice kept getting louder and louder. "Things change as we grow up, bro, and we need to adjust to them and change ourselves along, and changing your hair isn't what I mean, you got that? How many times have I tried to talk to you and you kept avoiding me for months, and you keep doing it while all I want is for us to talk! And all you do is go out and get drunk and fuck chicks instead of caring just a tiny bit for what's happening to us-"

"I didn't fuck anyone, how many times do I have to say it!"

"I don't even care anymore!" Bill screamed, walking dangerously to Tom's direction. "Can't you see? What we have Tom is not a simple relationship, we're not just a couple, we're brothers, it's the same blood in you and me. You promised, we promised that when something changed, no matter what, we'd talk about it and not only didn't you talk, but you kept ignoring in such an obvious and sad way; I take it once, I take it twice, but no more Tom. I thought we loved each other!"

"Yeah Bill, that's exactly what I thought too."

The air was so thick all of a sudden, everything fell in silence; it felt like a cemetery. Tom was still glued to his position glaring at his brother while Bill let the words sink in his mind, his eyes getting suspiciously shiny and Tom immediately wanted to kill himself. He didn't want all these to happen, that's exactly what he was trying to avoid, couldn't Bill see it?

"So you admit it," Bill whispered almost faintly, lowering his head.

"What-"

"You don't love me anymore," Bill went on, his fingers reached his eyes, touching the skin furiously before it got any wet. He looked up and his stare wasn’t shocked, depressed or sad. He was in a state of shock. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Jesus, do you even listen to yourself?" Tom wondered; he seemed so confused and small, looking at Bill. "You have completely lost control, Bill."

"Didn't you just fucking admit it?" Bill asked, his voice poisonous. "What were you afraid of all this time and you kept it to yourself? I'm not a little girl Tom, too bad for you; I won't jump off the window."

Tom took some hesitant steps towards his brother, hoping for the best. "I never said that and I never considered you a girl, you know that."

"You're so selfish, you let me believe..." Bill stopped, and backed off. "Don't come close to me, don’t even think about it, don’t touch me."

"You know what Bill, I'm going to go," Tom announced, walking back to the couch to get his coat. "Because you're obviously out of your mind."

"Don't you dare leave!"

"Why, will you try to stop me?" Tom asked angrily, glaring at his brother. "I'm tired of your shit, when you realize you're wrong let me know so we can talk, but I won't do it under these circumstances."

"And who are you to define the circumstances?" Bill screamed at his brother, but Tom didn't stop. Bill grabbed the first thing he found in front of him, an ashtray, and threw it against the closest wall, watching it break in a million pieces.

"Great, Tom, congratulations," he shouted again, when Tom opened the door. "Follow your father's lead and leave."

Tom slammed the door so hard that the whole house vibrated. In less than a second, he was standing right in front of Bill's face, their noses touched. "Shut the fuck up."

"Why Tom, am I wrong?" Bill asked, daring his brother with his eyes. "Are you any different than Jörg? Did you forget what mum told us? You do the exact same things."

"Shut up!"

"It hurts you, doesn't it?" Bill breathed in Tom's face. "You're exactly like him, the only difference is you're in a cute and expensive package; you'll always be his son and you prove it every single second of your stupid life!"

Bill didn't have the time to realize what happened, how he suddenly found himself away from Tom and almost on the floor, how his face burned. He looked up and felt as if the blood had disappeared from his brain. He tried to hold onto any kind of furniture around him but he couldn't take his hands off his face; he thought his jaw would fall off. Tom looked even more mortified, Bill figured out when he looked at him.

For a few moments, neither of them talked, they only looked at each other, communicating in silent gazes. Tom touched his hand and rubbed his fingers, lowering his head and looking at them, his skin red and raw. Moments before the older twin almost run away from their house, there was only one thing occupying the twins' mind.

Tom really did prove himself a Kaulitz.