Author's note: Once again, thanks to all who leave comments and encouragements. They are much appreciated since I normally keep my stories to myself.
This story is short but to make it up to everyone, I'm posting 2 new chapters seeing as it's the long week-end coming up.
I don't own Tim, Billy or Friday Night Lights. If I did, I'd have better things to do than write stories about them. ^_ ~
Chapter 4
Billy 18, Tim 9
Billy glanced at his alarm clock. Shit. He should have been up an hour ago. He momentarily wondered why Tim hadn't woken him up sooner but the persistent pounding in his head made it hard to focus. Wearily, he managed to sit up, vainly attempting to block out the offending sunlight. The sudden change made his stomach churn.
There wasn't a mirror near by but he imagined he looked like he felt. He finally made it to Tim's room only to find it empty, his school bag also missing. Billy figured he should call the school just to make sure his younger brother was there. He allowed himself to sink into the couch, resting his head on the back. He closed his eyes just for a second, the short walk exhausting him.
His eyes snapped open, 7 hours later, at the sound of the front door. He instantly regretted his feeble attempt to sit up as millions of black dots swarmed his vision followed by an eerie numbness.
"Billy, are you alright?" Tim stood near the couch, concern etched across his face. He dropped his school bag on the empty chair and made his way closer to his older brother.
Billy concentrated on his breathing. "Did you go to school?" He kept his eyes closed.
"I tried to wake you." Tim instantly explained in a hurried rush. "I really did. I didn't want to get in trouble so I walked to school." At this Billy pried his eye lids open.
He let out a sigh. "It's okay, just didn't know where you were." Billy closed his eyes again. "Just leave a note next time, alright?" Tim nodded. He had only just noticed how pale his older brother was. Tentatively, he reached out to touch his brother's forehead. Though inexperienced, he could easily tell it was warmer than it should be.
He brought his hand back down. "You have a fever. We should tell mom or dad." Billy's patience was already at his limit, he hated being sick, and he didn't have the energy to have another argument with his younger brother about their parents. Despite every disappointment, Tim still pathetically clung unto the illusion of the happy family. And every time, Billy would get more frustrated.
"Tell me something I don't know. Listen, I'm not really in the mood for this crap right now." Billy answered sarcastically. He realised a second too late that it came out harsher than he had intended. Tim opened his mouth to say something but decided against it. Instead he headed towards the kitchen, returning after a few minutes with a glass of water and a bottle of pain killers. He silently placed them on the coffee table and after picking up his school bag, he made his way to his room. Good job Billy, he thought to himself.
