"The next train to Las Nevadas platform 1 will be the 1:33 PLANETDUCK™ Train. We will be passing through to L'manberg Station shortly before reaching our destination. This train is formed of 3 carriages; Please make your way to the respective carriage written on your ticket as soon as the train arrives to prevent possible delay. Some seats may be reserved. Thank you for travelling with Nevadas Station™."

The pre-recorded, artificial voice spilled out of the speakers, echoing throughout the station. And it is there that Tommy stood, practically bound to Wilbur's hip, overwhelmed with the amount of people bustling through the small area. Tommy chose to ignore any external senses, focusing purely on Wilbur- and the way that the cobblestone felt against his finger. It was a good distraction- simply scratching away small particles of cobble off, watching it fall, paying great attention and detail to the individual imperfections within the stone.

...Tommy was obviously scared, to say the least.

Quietly, Wilbur assured the boy that in 10 minutes they'll safely be on the train, and the 3rd carriage at that-- the most unoccupied out of the 3, as it holds the least accommodations.

The train took one stop midway through the destination to Las Nevadas: L'manberg. Whereas most pleasantries within L'manberg focused towards the center where it's easiest to see and find, trains weren't exactly popular, and the man who owned PLANETDUCK™ didn't have the funding for a station within l'manberg itself. So it settles itself right on the edge of L'manberg, which is why they'd have to take a stop to L'manberg's respective station before continuing their move to Las Nevadas. The two won't have to get off the train, nor will many people from L'manberg go onto the train, so Wilbur isn't worried.

"Please buy a ticket before getting on to a train, otherwise you may have to pay a penalty fee."

The voice booms from the speaker. Tommy headbutts Wilbur's arm. He doesn't like the voice. It's too loud- and, and it's weird, and unfamiliar.

"Don't worry Tommy, we'll be on the train soon, yeah?"

Tommy didn't speak, rather, he simply let out a small noise of comprehension as to Wilbur's words.

"We are now boarding the 1:33 PLANETDUCK™ Train to Las Nevadas. Ensure that your luggage is with you as if left unattended it may be removed or damaged by security services. Please mind the gap between the train and the platform edge."

"Our cue," Wilbur hummed. "You ready, Tommy?"

Tommy nods, and if he whimpered slightly , Wilbur pretended not to notice. Instead, Wilbur just stood by Tommy's side until they made it to their train before Wilbur chose to stand behind Tommy as they boarded- Because this way, strangers couldn't get behind Tommy and worry him further, and Wilbur could keep an eye on him properly. Don't get him wrong- Wilbur doesn't exactly like trains either. For- No reason in particular, of course. But as the overwhelming need to protect seems to surpass the need for self preservation, Wilbur finds himself caring far more about the safety of Tommy.

...Not that he cares or anything.

Just making sure.

The two are able to board successfully; with the duo taking up two seats opposite each other, a table placed between them. As Wilbur suspected, the carriage was mostly empty-- occupied only by a delightfully chipper green man who seemed to be working for the train line, who appeared to be talking to a blonde boy wearing a purple hoodie. Wilbur is quick to realize this man is checking people's tickets- and in due time, the man walks right up to Wilbur and Tommy.

"Hello, Wilbur from L'manberg, and Hello Tommy from nowhere in particular! Thank you for riding with Nevadas Station™!"

Wilbur twitched, and Tommy looked down. Thankfully (?), Tommy seemed to have glossed over the "from L'manberg," part, when the man had addressed Wilbur. "Hello," Wilbur responded, keeping it casual, peeking at the man's name-tag, "Charlie. Tickets, I assume?"

"Yepperty doo, Just hand 'em over and we'll be done in a jiffy, and you two can enjoy the ride!" The man- Charlie, exclaimed, with a customer service smile plastered across his face. His...slightly greener than average face. Though his upbeat tone was infectious and joyful, and strikingly more genuine than the usual attitude you recieve from those in jobs like these.

Wilbur handed him the tickets, and Charlie was quick to scan them over before stamping them- something to do with the tickets being unusable once stamped, to prevent scamming.

"Here you go, Wilbur from L'm-"

" Thank you, " Wilbur interrupted, quickly taking the tickets back, "Greatly appreciated."

"Alrighty, then! Have a wonderful slimetastic time with Nevadas station! If you need food or drinks it's quite the walk, it's up within the first carriage. If during any time you're unable to get anything you want by your own means, you can ring the button placed above you to call a member of staff over!"

"Thank you."

"Anytime! Have a wonderful ride!" The man beams, before walking away into the second carriage. That man seems to really enjoy his job.

Wilbur quickly noticed that the typical loud voice he had grown accustomed and endeared to is vacant. It's upsetting, he'll admit. He's forgotten how quiet life was before he had attached himself to his loud little companion.

"You okay, Tommy?" Wilbur asked, genuine, sounding a little less casual than he would have preferred.

"Oh- um, 'Course I am, bossman, don't worry." Tommy lied.

Truth is, he wasn't okay at all.

He's experiencing a foreign and unwelcome feeling that looms all throughout his body and mind. He doesn't feel like he's allowed to be there. He feels so out of place and undeserving of the very seat he's in- and of course, the feeling enhances, slowly driving him to believe he doesn't deserve any of the circumstances he's found himself in as of recent.

What is he doing here?

He has no right to be here.

The people are so different, the walls are different, and Tommy's scared and- he can't help but feel unworthy.

The impostor syndrome only grows deeper as Wilbur stays silent, analyzing Tommy's expression, realizing quickly that Tommy isn't really doing okay. But, there's really not much Wilbur can do. By no means is he allowed to pry Tommy's feelings out, nor is he exactly a mind reader. He has no idea of the figurative thunderstorm playing out in Tommy's head because he has no right to know if Tommy doesn't want him to.

Tommy wishes he was back at the cobblestone wall. Scratching it, letting little parts crumble and fall, leaving a mark on it, his mark on it, so it can never be the same. It was therapeutic. He misses it.

The train began to move, gently swaying side to side, admittedly lulling Wilbur to a more tired state. He rests his head and arms on the table that rests in front of him, his upper body leaning, feeling far more comfortable this way. His arms crossed neatly, one sticking out forward ever so slightly making his hand visible as it's very lightly pressed against the table, his head nestled in his arms. He's quick to fall asleep- the methodically swaying train like a lullaby to the fatigued man. Tommy watches him fall asleep. It's distracting. When he focuses on Wilbur, he can't focus on anything else. And yet it doesn't last, as Wilbur stops moving, and Tommy can no longer divert his complete attention to Wilbur's motions.

Tommy noticed Wilbur's hand.

Meant to be tucked into the space between Wilbur's upper arm and the table, it rather stuck out, leaving his hand empty, palm facing down.

It's embarrassing, and Tommy feels incredibly childish, but he pushes it all aside because the need for some semblance of familiarity and comfort surpasses any other feelings he has at the moment. Carefully, Tommy slides his own hand underneath Wilbur's. The fabric of Wilbur's glove is recognisable and his skin is warm and it just- feels safe, and normal, and comfortable, and familiar, and Tommy needed that right now.

In the same way an older brother holds their younger siblings hand when crossing the road, it feels safe.

And yet the regret that sinked in when Wilbur fucking woke up made Tommy wonder if the feeling of safety was really worth it.

"Tommy?" The man mumbled, head still pressed between his arms. "Are you-?"

"I'm good, I'm fine, Go- um, have your old man nap, or something."

"Why did you-"

"It- Um, the train moved, and- my hand moved, that's it."

"...Okay, so, move your hand then."

Wilbur didn't mean that, obviously. His tone made it all too prevalent that it wasn't an instruction, he's trying to provoke Tommy, trying to get an explanation. Because he knows Tommy doesn't want to move. Wilbur doesn't mind, Tommy knows he doesn't, he just wants to know why.

Stupid fucking old man.

"...Fine," Tommy sighed, particularly red in the face. "I- I just- I don't know, this is just, really new, and- uh, It feels like I shouldn't be here, like, not allowed to be here, fuck, it's weird, and- I'm, sort of- You know, scared, and-" Tommy tries to explain before letting out a small whine. Feelings are hard to explain. But Wilbur knows that Tommy is trying and that's enough for now.

"I know what you mean. Listen, you're allowed to be here just as anyone else is," Wilbur comforts Tommy, squeezing his hand just a little. "-It'll be alright, Toms."

"...That-" Tommy starts, face heating up even more than before, "Isn't my name."

"Oh, sorry T-"

"No! Uh, I mean, it's fine, big dubs, i don't care, it's just, i didn't- I just noticed- um, but it's totally cool, call me whatever, just, i haven't been called any nicknames before, but like, i mean, you know i don't c-"

"Shut up, Toms." Wilbur says with a light chuckle, fondly. Tommy can almost hear the fact Wilbur is smiling. Tommy laughs a little, too.

"Oh-kay, Wil-bur." Tommy sighs, sarcastically. "Go back to your nap, or whatever."

And Wilbur does, quickly falling back to sleep, hand still engulfing Tommy's.

(Wilbur has big hands. It makes Tommy feel incredibly small. And childish. He's- Tommy is a big man, but... he supposes feeling a bit more like a child is...It's not so bad. Sometimes. Just a little.)

Tommy spent a while just fiddling with Wilbur's hand, lifting his fingers and messing around with his rings and glove, before eventually finding himself drifting off too, much more comfortable with the presence of Wilbur being there. He rests his head on the table, and falls asleep, hand staying right underneath Wilbur's own for the entire ride to Las Nevadas.

It's- Well, it's honestly surprising how quickly Tommy grew attached to Wilbur. Wilbur feels like...some sort of beacon of safety. Like, the living embodiment of security that had been taken away from Tommy for so long. His safety, his well-being, It feels as though it had returned to him in the form of Wilbur. It feels as though Wilbur was just...always supposed to be there.

...

(And, Wilbur didn't actually fall asleep for the rest of the ride, but Tommy didn't need to know that.)