Chapter Text
Tommy doesn’t know what he expected to see after practically breaking into his big brother’s house.
He’s partially concerned that his brother might not even live here anymore, and the fact that the porch has been fixed up for the first time in 7 years is not doing anything to reassure him.
He tries not to think too long about why his brother may no longer live here.
The porch itself is swept clean, with the broken boards that had once remained cracked and concave now gone and replaced. Two new wooden rocking chairs sit behind the railing, and freshly watered plants are displayed in brightly colored pots and hanging buckets, decorating the expanse of the porch.
There’s even a small T-rex statue perched between two cacti that has Tommy raising an eyebrow.
His brother definitely doesn’t live here anymore.
Pushing away the looming thoughts of why his brother may not live here anymore, Tommy uses his key to unlock the front door, where he immediately falls flat on his face.
Groaning, he rolls onto his back and startles as he comes face to face with the ugliest cat he’s ever seen scowling down at him.
It’s a creepy little thing, the type that only a mother, or in this case, an owner, could love. It's got big round eyes, round as marbles, positioned too close to the middle of its face, with its nose and mouth scrunched between, setting its face in a permanent frown.
“Hey there, little guy,” Tommy tries to soothe the grumpy cat before he gets fucking clawed in the face by God knows whose cat, definitely not his cat-detesting big brother’s, that’s for sure.
Thankfully, the ugly little thing saunters off down the hall, leaving Tommy still splayed out on the floor.
He glances down at a little, red, muddy sneaker that must have been thrown hazardously by the door.
Yep, time to go.
Tommy pushes himself to his knees, using the small table in the foyer to haul himself up.
He’s ready to get the hell out of here before someone calls the cops on him, when he comes face to face with a picture of a little girl physically wrapped around his beaming big brother.
Tommy feels his breath punch out of him, more focused on the smile he never thought he’d see again than the thoughts swirling in his mind about the little girl who looks to be around 10 or 11.
He can’t stop from reaching out for the picture, but his arm halts halfway when he realizes dozens of framed pictures litter the table and hang from the wall.
Some of the pictures contain both Joel and the girl, whom he now realizes is pretty darn cute with her brown hair, big dark eyes, cheesy smile, and pale skin.
She’s a tiny little thing, Joel looking more mammoth than man next to her, and God, she must burn something awful in the summer. Pasty, little thing.
There are dozens upon dozens of pictures featuring the two with Joel and the girl practically clinging to one another, some with her curled in his brother’s lap, perched on his back, or simply wrapped up in his arms.
There’s even one of the two of them conked out on the couch, the girl practically on his brother’s chest, taken by who knows who.
Many pictures are of the girl herself, some school pictures, but most seemingly taken by Joel.
There’s one of her covered in icecream, another with a fish clutched in one hand and laughing to whoever’s behind the camera (he tries and fails not to smile at the fact that the kid is soaking wet and muddy, as if she wrestled the fish as opposed to caught it on a line, feral little thing), one featuring her conked out, mouth hanging open on the couch and face smushed into the cushions, under a fuzzy dinosaur blanket.
There’s even one of her holding that hideous cat as a kitten. The look of sheer adoration on her little face, eyes focused on the scrunched up kitty, immediately explains how his brother got roped into being a cat owner.
What shocks him almost even more than learning his hardened brother has a kid is the framed picture of Sarah perched on the table, her last school picture ever taken.
He remembers the day he walked in to find all of Sarah’s pictures gone from around the house, hidden and tucked away in a box in her room, which stayed frozen in time. The absence of pictures didn’t just leave awkward outlines along the walls, but it was as if the energy she had left behind had been seeped out of the very walls.
A small wallet-sized school picture of the child he has already accepted as his new niece (which causes his heart to flutter in his chest with excitement) is tucked into the corner of the frame. Almost as if silently symbolizing big sister and little sister.
Tears flood his eyes.
The house is livelier than he’s seen it in a very long time, livelier than he’s ever seen it in fact, a perfect display of organized chaos.
Fuzzy blankets lay folded and draped along the couch. Some have pudgy, colorful dinosaurs, others speckled with planets and stars. Thick science books about all sorts of topics like space, dinosaurs, astronauts, plants, and other nerdy subjects lay on the coffee table.
So Joel’s got himself a little braniac, he thinks fondly.
A glance to the corner of the room, by the big window, reveals that even the cat furniture is space-themed, with a rocket ship scratching post and a rocket-ship-shaped cat bed, from which he unsettingly notices the cat has been watching him from, only able to make out two gaping eyes through the opening.
Fuckin’ creepy.
Fully committing to snooping through his brother’s house now, undeniably curious about what else this cute kid, who has somehow already wormed her way into his heart despite him not even knowing her name, is into.
Tommy feels himself seamlessly falling back into old habits, making his way to the kitchen to raid his brother’s pantry just like the old days before moving to spy around upstairs.
Opening the pantry reveals a fully stocked arsenal of food and snacks, very different from the sad selection he remembers.
Tommy can’t help but snicker at the variety of healthy snacks like apple sauce, something called “veggie straws,” freeze-dried fruits, and trail mixes. A look into the fridge has Tommy practically doubled over in laughter at the ridiculousness of Dad-Joel’s ways he’d long forgotten about.
More healthy snacks stock the fridge, like yogurt cups and organic juice, but what really has him laughing are the prepped snack bags. Carrots with little containers of hummus, pretzels and peanut butter, celery sticks slathered in peanut butter and topped with raisins, even cucumbers cut into star-shapes with a little cup of ranch.
Tommy will never admit that he’s tearing up over fucking yogurt and carrots, because he never thought he would ever see this side of his brother again.
A look into the medicine cabinet has him smiling fondly as he takes in the children’s versions of medicine, children’s multi-vitamins shaped like dinosaurs, a ridiculous amount of thermometers and dinosaur bandaids, and what turns out upon further inspection to be a microwavable plush shark, of course.
The bright red inhaler that catches his eye has him furrowing a brow, turning it over in his hand to see ‘Ellie’ scrawled on the side in his brother’s chicken scratch.
“Ellie,” he says aloud, a soft smile gracing his face.
An undeniably fitting name for an undeniably adorable kid.
A medicine bottle with her name on it also catches his eye. ‘Take one tablet per episode.’
Episode?
He’s already storing the prescription away in his mind to ask Joel about later.
He makes his way upstairs, the cat now trailing behind him. He can see a tag dangling from his collar, and though he would never admit it aloud, he’s a little scared to reach out to read it.
The cat follows him upstairs, though Tommy can tell it’s not out of companionship but more so supervision.
His brother’s room looks the same for the most part, save for a few changes, such as a few new framed pictures above his bed or the frames on his nightstand displaying pictures of him and his daughters.
Tommy feels like his legs are about to give out at the thought of his brother being a father again, but there’s no denying it. And he can’t help but feel a warmth in his chest at the idea of Joel loving a little girl, again.
Other additions to the room are so undeniably Ellie’s. God, he loves saying her name.
There’s a small penguin plush with dangling limbs propped against the pillows and a soft blanket, not quite folded but contained in a heap at the foot of the bed, almost like the kid has been camping out in here.
Cat furniture, including another bed and a basket that’s suctioned to his window, is scattered about the room. And Tommy already knows this kid must be a damn miracle worker to have not only reawakened Dad-Joel but to have convinced Joel not only to get a cat but also to allow it into his bedroom.
The cat meows behind him as he reaches for the doorknob of what must be her bedroom, as if voicing his own caution.
He hesitates before entering, already considering what a huge invasion of privacy this is.
Breaking into your older brother’s house to snoop around is one thing, especially considering it used to be Tommy’s house too, but snooping around a teenager’s bedroom, especially one he’s never even met before, is a whole different ball game.
He slowly pushes the door open and lets out a sigh of relief he didn’t know he was holding, not just because there weren’t any teenage girls’ underwear or bras strewn across the floor, but because it’s so different from Sarah’s.
He didn’t think his brother would even try replacing his firstborn, and he already had the idea that Ellie might be a bit of a tomboy, but the confirmation is relieving.
The kid’s room is sick as hell.
The walls are grey and littered with black and white posters of various bands and movies, along with many impressive sketches of moths and ferns.
Her bed is fitted with a space-themed duvet and various plushies that Tommy somehow knows Joel picked out.
A record player and a Walkman sit atop the nightstand, the drawer packed with various CDs of bands like Muse, Fleetwood Mac, and Pearl Jam. There’s even a little planet-shaped night light plugged into the outlet that twinges something in his chest.
A bookcase that he knows his brother must have made is overflowing with books, novels, thick science books, school textbooks, sketchbooks, and a plethora of comics called ‘Savage Starlight.’
Despite the general cleanliness of her room, the kid’s desk is a fucking disaster that has him smiling ear to ear. It’s absolutely covered in scattered drawings, charcoal pencils, pens, homework, a rogue calculator, and an open journal sitting on top.
He immediately averts his eyes, already feeling guilty for breaching the sanctum of her room at all, let alone unintentionally reading her diary, but a closer inspection reveals it’s less of a diary and more of a…shit if he knows.
The pages are littered with stickers from various coffee shops, glued on notes from Joel and what he assumes are her friends ‘Jesse’ and ‘Dina,’ and cryptic messages that must only make sense to her.
Things like ‘bear-BBQ’ and ‘don’t fuck it up’ and ‘he was wrong.’
It’s like a collage or brain dump that would only make sense to her. No wonder she left it wide open; it’s not like anyone would be able to decipher the contents.
He reaches out to pick up the small NASA snowglobe tucked into one of the cubbies above her desk, turning it ove-
“What the hell do you think you're doing?” his brother’s voice thundered from the doorway.