'i don't have anywhere else to go.' - a sleepy boys inc story

Smoke. That's all Tommy can see.

It's grey. And dark. And cold... he shivers, wrapping his hands around his arms and rubbing in an attempt to cause friction for warmth. As much as he didn't pay attention in school, physics doesn't fail him here.

The smoke morphs into a circle of grey faces, unrecognisable and unfamiliar, their faces contorted into screams. They're whispering something he can't understand, chanting. He calls to them, clutching his shirt desperately. "What are you saying? I can't understand you-"

The faces get closer, closing in on him before they turn back into smoke and suddenly disappear, and he's panicking because he can't see anything, and he's sinking - his feet slowly being engulfed by the somehow wet concrete - and he can't move, and he can't see anything, and it's cold, and black, and he can't move, and then he's brought back to sight by a cold white light that illuminates his vision and he sees... Wilbur. Relief floods in and he tries to run toward him, but he can't move - his feet are still stuck in the floor.

"Wilbur!" Tommy looks desperately at his friend and they link eyes. "Help me!"

Wilbur smiles. Then turns away. A gut-wrenching scream comes from Tommy's throat as his friend slowly walks away. He suddenly feels a hard hand in his back, and he falls forward into the grey sludge of the floor. He calls to Wilbur again, trying desperately to stay above the incoming darkness. "WILBUR! HELP ME! PLEASE!"

Tommy bolts awake, sweat covering his t-shirt and turning its pale blue colour into a dark azure. His hands grip the white sheets around him so hard his knuckles are white. He takes a deep breath as his eyes adjust to the darkness around him, allowing him to see that Wilbur isn't in the bed across the room from him - Phil had hauled an Ikea bed into the room about a week after he'd arrived at their house and he'd been staying with his friend since. Wilbur was really the only option for a spare room, Techno telling them he needs his space with a death glare and Phil being a fully grown man and not wanting to share a room with a 16-year-old.

Panic begins to flower in Tommy's heart, getting up and giving the bathroom a glance in caution, he finds it empty and lets out a breath he didn't realise he was holding in.

Wait. If Will's not in the bathroom, then where is he?

Tommy walks out of the bedroom and into the hallway, where he finds a ladder leading down from a hole in the ceiling, where a soft yellow light is flickering, as if from candles.

---

Wilbur is half asleep, a book falling out of his hand and onto the blankets and pillows he's bundled in, when he's pulled awake by the muffled scuffing of slippers on the hardwood floors, then the rhythmic creaking of a ladder as footsteps grow heavier and closer. He freezes.

Who the fuck is up at this hour?

You are.

"Will? Are you up there?"

Tommy's up at this hour.

You idiot, he probably woke up and found you not there, so he panicked. You left him there alone. What if he had a nightmare? You're such a bad friend.

"Will?" Tommy's voice sounds again and he realises he hasn't answered the question.

"Oh, uh- yeah, come up."

The sound of the ladder creaking intensifies and he sees Tommy's unkempt curly hair rise out of the hole in the floor. He steps up the ladder ungracefully, his legs still engulfed by the floor, and looks at the scene around him. "Holy shit, Wilbur."