Multifandom Madness by Trash Panda

The Smallest Mice

{Fandom: DSMP x Little Nightmares}
(Ships: None)

Lol, this is a LN and DSMP crossover because I am so hyped for the third game which I put in the beginning of the chapter thing, lmao.

Tw:
Mentions of death, injury, child endangerment, starvation, dangerous situations and ideas, and animal death

Angst Scale:
1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10
.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Third Person POV

  "Tommy, Tommy, get up." A muffled voice whispered. He felt someone shaking him.

  The other jumped, retreating away from the figure above him before realizing it was just Wilbur. His face was bandaged, his hair sticking out in between the gaps of the bandages. And his eyes were barely visible, sweat and blood made the bandages look gross. But Tommy couldn't remember the last time he saw his brother with the bandages off.

  "Get up," Wilbur said, his voice muffled by the bandages. He kept his eyes away from Tommy's face, just threw his clothes at him, and walked away a few paces. "Get dressed and get ready to leave."

  "Where are we going?" Tommy whispered back.

  "Home," Wilbur answered vaguely.

  Tommy paused for a moment, staring at Wilbur's back skeptically. And then, he gets up and starts getting changed. These clothes were so much warmer than the thin T-shirt he was wearing before! How did Wilbur find this?

  It was a long-sleeved sweater that was black and burgundy. The sweater had been made for someone much larger than Tommy's small frame, but he made it work nonetheless. He didn't have shoes and neither did Wilbur, meaning he was always scared of stepping in glass. His pants also didn't fit and needed to be secured by a belt made of frayed rope, but this was good because it made storing things easier. A keychain hung from the rope, same with a dented canteen of water.

  "Where did you find these clothes?" Tommy asked.

  "You were asleep for a long time," Wilbur said. "Can I turn around now?"

  "Yeah, I am done," Tommy said. Wilbur turned around, holding out his hand. He observed it for a moment. Messy bandages stained with dirt and machine oil covered Wilbur's palms, only letting his thin fingers poke out. He took Wilbur's hand and the other began walking. "Where are we going?"

  "Home."

  "No, but really. Where are we headed?"

  "Home," Wilbur said.

  Tommy glanced at Wilbur in confusion. Neither of them had ever had a 'home', not the kind you hear about in fairytales anyway. And if they ever did, Tommy must have been an infant because he didn't remember it.

  Did the older boy know something he didn't? It was possible. He was older and smarter after all.

  It started raining last night, and so the two hid in a room at the top of what may have been an apartment building. The wall was blown out, showing the broken boards underneath and chunks of stone littered the place. Inside was debris and a bloody mattress. The mattress had no bed frame or sheets or anything and it was bloody and greasy, but it was better than nothing. Better than nothing. A phrase Tommy commonly found himself repeating to himself.

  He had his brother here, which was better than nothing even though they had no other family. Tommy and Wilbur found food 2 days ago. It was some moldy bread from the bottom of a rusty dumpster, but it was better than nothing. He was cold, his hands were losing feeling from the lack of warmth, and the last time he felt warmth was when he was next to Wilbur. But he was alive, and that was better than nothing. Last night, he managed to collect some rainwater in his canteen. The water tasted like smog, but it was better than nothing. Wilbur was always there for him, always thinking about Tommy's needs before his own. And that was better than anything in the world.