What’s happening at Mitchell and Anders’ house?
“I’m just saying…” Ty mumbles, leaning on the breakfast bar, hand clamped over his mouth, “when she gets sick I…” He pauses to swallow, thick and miserable. “I get sick… Its like… sympathy sickness.”
Dawn, bless her VERY pregnant soul, squeezes Ty’s wrist, smiling up at him from one of the stupidly tall and aggressively uncomfortable stools Anders insisted on buying. She’s halfway through a, “babe, you’re so sweet…” when the blond interrupts.
“It’s called being dramatic, Tyrone.”
Dawn rolls her eyes at him (of course he can’t see it because he refuses to look up from his laptop), rubbing gentle circles on Ty’s wrist and ignoring Anders who has decided to keep talking despite the dirty looks he’s getting from his brothers. (Impromptu family thing at his house. Yay!) “You don’t have a weak stomach, you have a weak spine,” he continues.
“Fuck off, Anders,” Ty groans, breathing in and out through his teeth to get rid of the nausea.
The fridge door slams closed and Axl emerges back into the common area with one hand full of stolen pizza and the other holding a beer he technically can’t get drunk on. Chewing thoughtfully as he takes in the scene, his older brother looking green, Dawn exhausted, clammy and somehow still handling both Ty and Anders being... Ander. “Youre such a dick, Ander’” Axl snaps, around a mouthful of pizza, “Have some empathy.”
Anders snorts, “For him?”
“For them,” the youngest Johnson replies, shrugging then shoving the rest of the slice into his mouth. “If you shut up and tried to put yourself on their situation, you’d get it.”
Dawn snorts out a laugh at the thought of a pregnant Mitchell with Anders hovering over him in nervousness.
“I’d appreciate it if you get that out of your head…” Mitchell mumbles from his place sulking on the couch. That makes the woman laugh again and all the other Johnson’s stare at them in confusion.
“It's a funny thought tho…”