Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“What do you mean you’re leaving!” Tommy gaped, frantically looking between Phil and Technoblade. “You’ve barely been home for a week!”

Despite what people thought of him Tommy wasn’t oblivious, he knew that this would happen the same way it always did. It didn’t stop him from hoping it wouldn’t. If Wilbur was home his brother would’ve started arguing with their father, and as good as that would make him feel it would only make Phil leave faster. Pushing past the obvious hurt that their father chose Techno’s violin competition (again) over his upcoming football game. Tommy pouted, leaning against the suitcases. “You can’t leave me alone guys, I’m a  minor .”

Phil chuckled, ruffling Tommy’s hair. “Wil’s here, that isn’t leaving you alone Tommy.”

Tommy clenched his jaw and tried for a smile. It didn’t feel right for him to be angry at Wilbur since his older brother practically raised him, but it still hurt that Wilbur had stopped coming home after his band practices. He couldn’t tell that to their dad, Wilbur had postponed his band for years and it would hurt him to have to abandon it. Tommy was a big man and could take care of himself. 

“Where are you even going this time,” He smacked the stupidly large suitcase. “How long will you be gone?”

Phil grinned, pride oozing off of him. “France.”

“France?” Tommy whirled around to gape at Technoblade. The pink-haired prodigy was busy securing his violin and shuffling through his music sheets. “You’re going to fucking France.”

Techno hummed before looking over at Phil. “Ready.”

Tommy froze, his brain whirring. Despite having taken care of himself the past couple of months, Tommy didn’t want to be left alone; he still had things he wanted to bother Phil about before he left. He'd promised to play a quick game of football with Tommy and now he was leaving? Without a second thought?

“You know I’m gonna throw a sick ass party right. France? That’s ages a fucking away.”

Phil rolled his eyes. “Just don’t bother the neighbors too much Toms. Bye mate.”

The doors closed behind them and Tommy’s shoulders drooped. Right. So back to normal. Shuffling through to the kitchen Tommy squinted at the clock, it was nine in the fucking morning on a fucking Saturday, god this was the worst timeline. He had practice in two hours and no one was home.

Tommy was five seconds away from actually taking a nap when his phone started ringing and he had to trudge all the way upstairs to get it. His stomach was rumbling but he had no motivation to make anything. “Hello?”

“Tommy?” Tubbo asked, his voice full of concern. “Did I just see Phil and Techno leaving?”

Tommy blinked. “What are you doing, stalking me now Tubzo?”

“No!” Tommy snickered at Tubbo’s outburst and ripped open a granola bar. “I was just passing by because you have practice today--”

“Sounds like something a stalker would say.”

“TOMMY!” Tommy was snickering when he heard a shuffle, it wasn’t a normal shuffle, something about this one just felt awkward.

Tommy grinned. “Is that Ranboob I hear?”

There was a loud groan somewhere next to Tubbo before the phone was passed over. “Hey Tommy, Tubbo woke me up because he wanted to use my car. I think he’s a gold digger or something.”

Tommy hummed in pity, both of them choosing to ignore Tubbo’s protests. 

“B-back to the question! Did Phil and Techno just leave?”

Couldn’t get anything past Tubbo, Tommy dully tossed the wrapper into the rubbish bin. “Yeah, Paris this time apparently.”

Tommy wandered around the house gathering his gear in one spot, as much as he wanted to go back to sleep if Tubbo and Ranboo were coming over they’d probably want him awake. “You’re coming to practice?”

“Duh Big Man. I made muffins and someone has to eat them.”

“When did you have time to make muffins?” Tommy was brushing his teeth, so it didn’t come out like that at all.

“Because I can.”

“But why though?”

“Why not?” Tubbo had a point so Tommy didn’t ask anything else. It was probably not the best thing to ignore how hurt he was feeling, but he also found that he currently didn’t have any fucks to give. He had things to do, and if Technoblade and Phil and Wilbur didn’t want to join him it was fine, he had Tubbo and Ranboo.

“Tommy?” The extremely tall and socially awkward teen that was Ranboo stuck his head through the front door, Tommy grinned as Tubbo reached past him waving the dish of muffins excitedly.

“Fuck Tubs, those look good.” Tubbo grinned and hooked his arm around Tommy’s shoulder and Ranboo behind him grabbed his bag. Tommy smiled, reaching out to grab both of them, yeah, maybe Technoblade and Wilbur and Phil had all left but at least he had Tubbo and Ranboo.

“What’s happening in practice today?” Tubbo asked, reaching to pull his seat down to look back at Tommy.

“Same old same old.” Tommy was pushing his shoes onto his feet when Tubbo held out one of the muffins. Stupidly that’s what did him in and caused his self-imposed apathy to evaporate. Breaking off a piece of the muffin Tommy ignored the growing pressure behind his eyes, Tubbo ignored it choosing instead to turn the radio up.

And I know you don't love me so, but please say it once before I go

Even If It’s a Lie

Matt Maltese

“Dream, you little bitch.” Tommy screeched trying to grab at the bastard. The smug bitch was laughing and holding Tubbo’s fucking glorious muffin above his head like an actual bastard. “That’s mine.”

“It’s finders keepers Tommy~” Dream cackled, dodging Tommy’s perfectly timed lunge. “Finders keepers, losers--”

Dream oofed as Tommy successfully slammed into him and grabbed the muffin, grinning in glory Tommy lifted the muffin and showed it off to the rest of the team. Sapnap let out a screeching whistle and signed an ‘L’ Dream’s way. It reminded Tommy of happier times, back when Techno hadn’t been fixated on violin and was doing track instead and would bring home his friends after every victory. They’d all pile in the car and Tommy would talk everyone’s ears off until they got home and made a mess of the kitchen trying to revolutionize pancakes. Tommy was shorter then and a lot weaker, Dream would hold the plate way too high for him to reach until one of his brothers took pity on him and snatched the plate for him.

“Fuck you bitch!” Tommy took a large bite of the muffin, pointedly choosing to ignore how it tasted more like ash instead of chocolate. It probably made the black hole in his stomach grow, like the sci-fi films that Tubbo liked. Dream groaned dramatically, reaching out to Sapnap until he gave up one of the muffins he was hoarding.

“So...” Dream stated suddenly looking serious, which made no fucking sense. Tommy noticed that the rest of the team had crowded on the other end of the field, he frowned, raising an eyebrow at Dream.

“What’s this? An interrogation?” Dream looked away like he was considering his words, and this made Tommy really fucking nervous. “Come on man, spit it out.”

“Are you doing okay?” 

Tommy blinked. “What?”

“Are you okay Tommy?” Dream repeated. Okay, Tommy wasn’t hearing things, good to know, now if only he could figure out why Dream was suddenly asking this. It wasn’t like they were friends, the older boy only knew that Tommy existed was because he was friends with Technoblade. That didn’t equal getting worried about him or some crap.

“Yeah? Why is something up?” All Tommy could think of was that something truly terrible had happened, like maybe Techno and Phil had gotten into a car crash and Dream was trying to break it to him. Maybe Wilbur had broken his arm and had run away again and Dream was trying to tell him that because Nikki couldn’t for some god-forsaken reason. “Dream?”

Suddenly there was a hand on his head and Tommy melted a little inside, he didn’t show it though, he was a big fucking man after all and had a reputation. “Techno updated his Twitter, saw he and your dad are going to Paris or something. I know that Wil’s been busy, I’ve been at most of his rehearsals.”

“Creep,” Tommy muttered, no heat behind the words. Having Dream think of him felt kinda nice, in a stupidly selfish way. “but I’m fine. I’m a big man Dream, the biggest you’ve ever seen.”

Dream smiled at him and all warmth in him vanished. It wasn’t a happy smile or an annoyed one, those Tommy could deal with, he’d dealt with them all his life after all. Tommy could deal with happiness, with annoyance, and probably even with anger, but the one thing he couldn’t fucking stand was pity. He wasn’t some stupid little charity case or some little kid who needed to be babied because his family was ignoring him. He was fine for fucks sake.

“If you need anything, like anything ever, you can come over okay? I’m sure my mom would be glad to have you, I don’t know how she could like you, but here we are.” Dream smirked and Tommy rolled his eyes.

“Like I’d want to deal with your annoying ass more than I already do. Tell Drista I said hi, and tell her to do Operation Prick.” Dream blinked, suddenly weary.

“She isn’t gonna stab me again is she?” Tommy walked away. “Tommy?!”

“Why don’t you go find out? Prick.”

Tommy jogged through the others over to Tubbo, choosing to bluntly ignore the worried glances that followed him. Tubbo was the only one here who didn’t look at him like he expected him to break, choosing to raise his hand in a cheery wave as he continued chattering with Ranboo and Karl. “So yeah, we got a child.”

Tommy choked turning around. “Huh???”

Tubbo turned to him like he hadn’t just said the weirdest fucking sentence ever. “Well, two children.”

“Again: Huh???” Ranboo wheezed, grabbing Tommy by the shoulder as he coughed. “I nearly drowned bitch I deserve an answer.”

“Tubbo found this website and insisted we get a pig, he wants to visit him this weekend. We named him Micheal.” Oh, that makes sense. It was still weird but was something Tubbo would do. Wait… Tubbo said…

“What do you mean two children?” Tommy squinted, daring Ranboo to confirm his thoughts. The Slenderman wannabe just turned around and went to get a cup of water like the socially awkward bitch he was. “Tubbo!”

No Tommy wasn’t whining, this was a perfectly valid reaction. Fuck off.

“What do you mean you won’t consider giving Micheal one of my shirts, we can match Tubbo.” Tommy reached to the front of Ranboo’s sort of shitty car and pinched his friend. Tubbo reached back and missed Tommy’s cheek by a mile.

“No offense Tommy, but you have no sense of style.” Tubbo stuck his tongue out and Tommy gasped.

“How dare you.” The car stopped and Tommy grabbed his bag. “My lawyers will be hearin’ about this, slander I tell you, absolute fucking slander.”

The car pulled off of the sidewalk and Tommy waved until the two of them were out of sight. It was only then that he let himself wilt and breath through the pressure in his eyes. The driveway was empty now, the lights were off in the house, and he needed to go grocery shopping because they were running out of eggs. Tommy had never felt so truly alone, not even when the bus had accidentally left him behind at a museum and the sun was setting. Probably because he knew that his dad would come to pick him up or something like that.

The door shut behind him and Tommy dropped his bag on the armchair. God, what was he gonna make for dinner? He had a Toastie last night and made breakfast the week before. Rustling through the fridge he found a leftover carton of fried rice and stuck it into the microwave. Their dad had brought a large box of Chinese food and brought it back along with Techno’s trophy, and it was one of the few nights Wilbur had come home. 

After Tommy texted him of course, but it didn’t really matter. Chinese food sadly didn’t taste as good after being reheated but Tommy made his way through it and trudged into the shower. His legs were sore for some reason and Tommy collapsed into his bed to ignore the pain. 

When Tommy was just starting football after each game his family would gather in his bedroom, he never knew why and he never really questioned it, too happy to be spending time with them and buzzing off of adrenaline. Phil and Tommy would be chattering about his moves and his father would give his pointers, Technoblade would shower in his knowledge from time to time and would threaten to wake Tommy up at five A.M to go running, and Wilbur despite not being the best at the game would ramble with them and would pet Tommy’s head until he fell asleep.

Tommy sniffled as a low whine tore its way out of his throat like a wounded dog or some shit. It was fine, he tried assuring himself, he probably just pushed himself too hard or something during practice today. That’s why he was feeling so upset, he just needed to get some sleep and everything would be just fine and it didn’t matter what had happened this morning. 

Tommy turned, closed his eyes, and then turned again trying to find a position comfortable enough to ignore the pit growing in his stomach. He’d deal with that eventually, nor better yet never, whichever came last. He just needed to get into a doze and everything would be fine, and the sooner he'd get out of the house when practice started tomorrow, then the sooner he got through tomorrow before he knew it he’d be back in school and the time would fly right by. It’ll be fine. 

The pain welled up not just in his stomach but in his calves, Tommy hissed, trying his best to wipe away the numbness that was settling around him. He couldn’t sleep like this. He needed… he needed…

Send to:  Wilbur

Wil

Wil

Wiiilllllll

What?

Can’t sleep

Dadza nt Technoe left

*and

So? They always leave

He wasn’t wrong, but Tommy did hope that Wilbur wouldn’t be following in their footsteps. He hissed as he hit his ankle against his desk, fuck that hurt like a BITCH.

Come on Wil

>:(

Just take some Melatonin or something

I should’ve left a bottle.

Tommy knew for a fact that Wilbur had cleaned the bottle out last Monday when he came home, so he didn’t hold out on that. He ruffled through the fridge for a hot water thingy to stick in the microwave instead. 

Is that prmission to do drugs?

Ura shit influence Wil ;)

Hush up

I got practice

bye.

That didn’t help much but Tommy did feel a little better, at least Wilbur didn’t ignore him this time. He’d found the red plastic disc and stuck it in the microwave, if he remembered correctly he had to wrap a towel around it first. He could probably sneak into Phil’s room and grab Advil, it wasn’t like Phil was ever home long enough for his back pain to start up. Right. That sounded like a plan. Today, then tomorrow, then school, and everything would be okay.

Chapter Text

There was a hand in his hair and Tommy hummed constantly, his legs still felt sore from yesterday but that was okay. Dad would tell him if he needed to rest. The house smelt good, like bacon and eggs and syrup, Tommy hoped that Wil hadn’t helped because Tommy didn’t eat burnt food. The hand in his hair knocked against his ear and Tommy hissed.

“Wil, that fucking hurts.” He mumbled, pulling the blanket over his head. Maybe Wilbur should’ve burned the bacon, at least then Tommy could’ve dozed for a bit more. The hand froze and Tommy frowned, well, Wilbur was in a mood today. Normally Technoblade would still be dozing, probably waiting to steal the blanket like the hog he was, so it was odd not feeling the familiar weight anywhere on the bed. It took a few minutes for his brain to realize that tears were falling on his head before a cold wave of horror crashed through him. 

Right, they couldn’t be here, so who was? 

What did he have to do to make them forget about this entire conversation? Tommy could probably talk himself out of this, he was Big Man Innit, after all, nothing could stop him. Peeking out from the sheet, Tommy found himself glaring at Tubbo. Tubbo’s face was tinged red like the time he skinned his knee,  trying (and failing) not to cry. The world hated him. Sure Tommy was an asshole at times but he couldn’t yell at Tubbo, Tommy had god damn standards.

“Mornin’,” He said instead, trying not to look directly at his upset friend. “How do?”

He hoped that Tubbo would take the hint and they could move on from this terrible morning, but it didn’t happen that way. Tubbo frowned, reaching out to grab Tommy’s hand, as much as he wanted to be pissed at Tubbo he didn’t have the energy. It seemed like the haze had washed it all away. 

“What’s for breakfast?” He asked, trying his best to step around the topic.

Tubbo gave his hand a squeeze and Tommy relaxed. “Bacon, eggs, the good stuff. Ranboo’s trying to make French Toast Sticks or something. I don’t know what it is.”

“Please tell me the kitchen’s still there?” Tommy quipped, before checking his phone. It was 11:15. Fuck. “Dream’s gonna kill me.”

Tubbo snorted. “Don’t worry, I got his permission to let you sleep in--”

Fuck not being angry at Tubbo. “What do you mean let me sleep in? It’s practice Tubbo, Football is my thing.”

Tommy pushed past Tubbo and frantically brushed his teeth. God, he hadn’t been late since the first time he had to get to practice by himself. He’d taken a wrong turn and nearly crashed his bike. It was only after scraping a chunk out of his elbow that he lowered his pride enough to ask Ranboo for a ride. Fuck, he couldn’t be late, he just couldn’t. He needed to play football, and he needed to be good at it because maybe then Phil would stay home once in a while. Maybe then Wilbur would as well.

He knew it was stupid and that if Phil really didn’t want to see Tommy nothing could stop him from leaving. It didn’t stop him from hoping, or from deluding himself. Even if the years of effort hadn’t paid off yet Tommy still needed to try , because if he didn’t what more would he have left? 

He might have to skip breakfast today, or he could grab a dish and eat during time out. He’d have to find a corner, but he’d manage, and then he wouldn’t miss too much. Dream would probably stare but he could distract the older boy enough with his babbling so he couldn’t chat with Tommy. If he managed to do that he could make it past practice okay and most of his day would be done. There was a knock at the door as Tommy turned to pull on his shirt, Tubbo peaked in.

“I packed the food, Ranboo and I’ll be waiting in the car.” Tommy hummed and went to find his shoes. He didn’t want to bother Wilbur about getting new cleats so he had to make these ones last. After making sure the stove was off because god help him if he burned the house down Tommy was rushing to the car.

“Asshole--Toms--” Tommy paused, were they talking about him? Why? Opening the door as loud as he could, Tommy stumbled into the car. Ranboo and Tubbo stopped talking, both of them looked stiff and nervous. Tommy tried not to think about what that might mean.

“Hey, Ranboo? You ever watched Fast and Furious?”

Ranboo blanched. “I guess?”

“Then step on it bitch boy.” Tommy grinned, trying to put as much pep as he could. He just needed to get to practice, and then he could think about this. Tubbo smiled at him and Tommy relaxed trying to strike up a conversation and eat as much as he could. He was probably just overthinking this, there was no way that Tubbo hated him, it was just… impossible.

I was just the chip on your tooth and I liked being that, I was just the me to your you and I liked being that.

Curl up & Die

Matt Maltese

Tommy’s head was aching, his ears were ringing and shit. God, he wanted to lay down and let the earth reclaim his worthless body because what use did it have if it failed on him so often? He was a disappointment, wasn't he? He couldn’t get through one practice and couldn’t live without bothering someone else. He just… He…

Tommy clattered through his bag, his brain suddenly blank. He just needed to focus, he needed to take the pain away, he needed… Tommy’s hand brushed against the bottle of Advil and dumped a few into his hand. His water bottle was half empty but he chugged it all down and let the chill rush through him, right, this was fine, this was going to be fine. Tommy just had to get through this and he would be okay. He would be okay.

“Tommy?” Dream was knocking at the stall door, Tommy shook his head trying to stop the numbness from taking him over.

“Yeah Big D? I’m taking a massive shit, Ranboo made a poggers breakfast, fiber an’ shit.” He flushed the empty toilet just to make a point. Dream didn’t say anything before he pulled the door open, fuck, Tommy forgot to lock it.

Dream frowned, “Tommy.”

“Dream.” Tommy pushed past Dream as fast as he could, right, lying didn’t work so it was time for evasion. He’d have to talk to Dream eventually, but for now, he needed time to think and lie his way out of this. He needed a distraction. “Sapnap!!!”

“Huh?” Tommy grabbed him by the arm and swung around him.

“Dream’s dissing my super hot, super real, mega tall girlfriend.” Dream looked flabbergasted. Sapnap was stone-faced as he turned to look at Dream. “Bro, just because you’re single as--”

“OH SHUT UP!” The two of them started arguing and Tommy snuck away. His headache had died down and his legs didn’t feel like bags of sand. Practice was starting again soon, and he was home free. Tubbo was frowning at him but Tommy didn’t dare look at him. 

He didn’t want to think about what that could mean.

It was Ranboo who cornered him after practice, not aggressively mind you, as lanky as he was, Ranboo didn’t have the strongest backbone. “Tommy, we need to talk.”

“What about Big Man?” Tommy grinned. “I’ve got things to do, essays to write, women to meet.”

Ranboo frowned. “We’re worried about you Toms.”

“Whaaaaat?” Tommy did not want to have this conversation, he didn’t want to have any fucking conversations. He met his criteria of social interaction for today, thank you very much, and just wanted to get home. You know, leave this shit for future Tommy to deal with. “You don’t need to worry about me big man, since I’m the biggest man ever--”

Ranboo frowned and Tommy kept babbling, blocking out any effort at putting the conversation back on track. He was mostly trying to drown out the spasm in his limbs and the pressure in his eyes and all the other things he didn’t want to think about. 

“Tommy...” Ranboo was hugging him and something inside Tommy shattered, was it childish for him to wish it was Wilbur instead? It was just so hard trying to keep everything together by himself, Tommy wasn’t an organized person, he wasn’t a thinker, he couldn’t keep himself together if there was nothing waiting for him. It was selfish and definitely made him a piece of shit, but he wanted someone there, he wanted Phil, Wilbur, and Technoblade. He fucking missed them. It was like they took pieces of his heart with them and left him with nothing but a gaping empty chasm.

He didn’t feel like himself and more like he was living in a beta version of his life. One where he couldn’t remember what it was like to have breakfast with his family, one where he had to actually be a big man, one where it felt like he was just watching everyone move on without him while he was trying to keep up. 

Ranboo’s grip tightened around him and his expression made Tommy freeze, it was just so cold. Tommy’s brain shut down. Right, he had to be a big man and that meant not throwing his problems on other people when he could solve them himself. It wasn’t Ranboo’s fault that Tommy was so fucking incompetent that his family didn’t want to spend time with him. Tommy just needed to suck it up and try harder. 

He didn’t say anything when Ranboo took him to the car, he didn’t say anything when Tubbo tried talking to him in a soft voice, he didn’t say anything when they grabbed his bags, he didn’t say anything when they promised to come for him tomorrow. Tommy reopened the Advil and went to bed instead.

There was a blanket over him and his head was resting on someone’s lap. It took Tommy an embarrassing amount of time to find his bearings because he was distracted by how warm and safe everything felt. The hand in his hair was familiar, all calloused at the tips but gentle and kind as they brushed along his earlobe. Tommy could scarcely breathe as he registered the familiar humming and tones of his brother who was stroking his hair, holding him and at home like he used to when Tommy was younger, smaller, and less annoying . 

Unable to stop it Tommy whined and tried his best to sink deep into Wilbur as if he could become a part of him and never feel cold and alone ever again. Wilbur chuckled and pulled Tommy closer, Tommy only startled when he realized his feet had hit something, well, someone . Technoblade was looking at the two of them through bleary eyes, his glasses lopsided and his hair falling out of its braid. Tommy was frozen not knowing what to think, he could only look in numb awe as both of his brothers were here and he wasn’t alone. From the kitchen Tommy could hear the clanking of pans before he heard the oil and smelled the sausage, he realized that Phil was home too.

Wilbur frowned. “Toms? What’s wrong, does it still hurt ?”

When Tommy finally realized that he was crying, he suddenly couldn’t keep it together. He started sobbing, he sobbed about how it was so lonely there, and how he couldn’t be by himself and how he’d tried and tried but he couldn’t do it, and how he didn’t want any of them to leave him, and how he couldn’t be an adult and how he loved them so much and was so, so, so sorry if he was annoying because they deserved so much better than him, and---

Wilbur held onto him tightly, whispering to Tommy in a low and comforting tone. He felt a weight against his back as Technoblade leaned against him and a shudder rolled through him when his brother held onto his hands. Tommy knew he was probably an ugly sight all teary and snotty and hysterical and he tried his best to stop and match Wilbur’s breathing like he was told to. Wilbur cupped his face, smoothing his fingers across Tommy’s face and suddenly he could breathe again. Wilbur was dressed in his stupid yellow sweater and his eyes were so clear and so loving that it broke through the fog in his mind.

“Shh…” His brother said. “ Hush now, hush now. I’m still here Toms, I didn’t go anywhere.”

Tommy’s face heated up and he felt stupid now that the panic was gone. Of course, they wouldn’t leave him, they were family, and families always stay together. 

“S’rry,” He mumbled. “I ruined your sweater.”

Wilbur smiled so full of soft edges and brown curls that Tommy had to lean into him and bury his face into his chest. “It’s okay Toms.”

It wouldn’t take much to make Tommy tear up again, so he turned to Technoblade and insisted on hugging him too. Tommy was sure that Techno would awkwardly reject the hug, then he’d tease him and they’d go down to breakfast bickering. Instead, Tommy was confused when he felt his brother wrap his arms around him. He'd almost forgotten how strong Techno’s grip was and how safe it made him feel. If he sniffled it was no one’s business but himself.

Phil was making breakfast, Wilbur and Technoblade had both left to brush their teeth, and Tommy, being lured by the promise of a hot breakfast, snuck his way down. Phil hadn’t noticed him yet and Tommy made no move to change that, it felt like so long since he had seen his dad. Phil was half awake and hovering between the pan and the kettle, the toast and sausages already cooked. Tommy couldn’t help but smile when Phil finally realized that he forgot to turn the burner on, honestly, and they wondered where Tommy got his mouth from.

As if sensing him, Phil finally looked up. “Morning mate,”

“Mornin’ Phil…” Phil smiled at him, and suddenly all was right in the world. “When’s practice?”

Tommy had no idea what time it was, everything felt so odd like it could be midnight and everything would still be the same. “We’re staying in today Toms, you worked hard yesterday. I called Coach--”

Phil paused and Tommy could do nothing to hide his tears. Why was he so fucking emotional today? God, this was so damn pathetic, he was a Big fucking Man why was he crying at every little thing they did. Fuck, and now Phil was coming towards him when he should be making breakfast and Tommy should be getting ready for practice because he needed to do better before they actually left him because he was so fucking useless .

Tommy was being pressed against something warm and sturdy, and there was a hand in his hair. Phil smelt like home in all the ways that mattered, he smelt like pine cones and summer daisies and clear mornings and soft evenings and late nights and love . So much love, so much love that Tommy felt like he was drowning in it and that his lungs would collapse and his brain would stop. God, Tommy didn’t deserve it, he couldn’t deserve it.

“Toms, Toms,” Phil called, nudging Tommy’s head from where it rested on his shoulder. “Tom, What’s wrong mate?”

“I love you.”

Phil’s eyes crinkled with affection. “Love you too mate.”

Tommy smiled.

Chapter Text

It was 5 a.m when Tommy woke, the house was empty and he found that he couldn’t relate to anything more. Ignoring the stinging in his eyes and the mortification, Tommy sat up and groaned when he realized his sweat-soaked uniform was stuck to his skin. God, he was so fucking itchy. He needed a shower before he got infested with fleas or some bullshit. When the hot water hit his skin, he finally let himself drift. Something about sitting in the shower was enough to ground him and let him breathe, even while his body seemed determined to shred itself to bits.

It was nice, he mused, letting himself drift out of his body. 

The quiet of the house bled into the quiet of his mind. He didn’t know what that dream was about but he didn’t have the energy to put his brain to use figuring it out. Despite everything it was comforting. The warmth of Techno’s hug, the softness of Wilbur’s sweater, and the shine of Phil’s smile are all the things Tommy was working to earn. If he succeeded wouldn’t all of this have been worth it? Wouldn’t all of this seem like a bad dream, and couldn’t he just forget it all?

The silence was broken as a loud slam echoed down the halls. It took an embarrassingly long time for Tommy to realize it was the front door, and even longer for him to recognize the sound of boots against the floors. Wilbur,  Wilbur , he realized. Tommy’s heart was hammering as he shut the shower off, as he hurried to dry off, his chest was fit to burst as he pulled the shirt over his head. Wilbur was home, Wilbur was home. 

It felt like another dream like this was all too perfect to be real. He’d just had a dream that they were back together and here Wilbur was coming back home without Tommy calling him back. It was a sign, wasn’t it? A glorious, wonderful sign. He dumped his dirty clothes in the hamper and rushed down.

“Wil?” He called, skidding to a stop at the bottom of the stairs. “Wil!”

His brother was standing in the kitchen, his coat across a chair and his boots still on his feet. If Phil was home he would’ve scolded him and warned him not to track mud through the house, Tommy would cackle and repeat the words with his mocking babble and they’d all laugh. “Don’t get mud on the floor Wil.” He said and waited for Wilbur’s mocking snort.

But his brother didn’t laugh and before Tommy could correct his mistake, Wilbur slammed his hands against the table, his eyes dark with rage. “I didn’t come here to be lectured, Tommy.”

“Wil--” His brother’s head whipped up and Tommy shrunk away from the venom he found there. Why couldn’t he have shut up, why couldn’t he just shut up.

“Now Tommy, tell me why Dream told me that something was wrong because from what I see you're just peachy.” Tommy froze because what? Dream said… what?

“What…?” He croaked out. Why would he do that, why did Dream do that? Didn’t he see that Wilbur was busy, what did Tommy do that made him upset enough to tell Wilbur? Fuck, fuck, he couldn’t even go a day without inconveniencing someone like some spoiled little brat. “I don’t know.”

Wilbur scoffed and turned back to the fridge in a huff. The warmth of the shower and the buzz of his limbs seeped away as the cold air washed over him. Tommy folded his arms together and shrunk, he should’ve found Dream after practice and done all he could to show the older he was fine, and that he was overreacting. He should’ve cracked a joke about drugs when Dream pulled the door open, he should’ve given him the biggest grin and tossed the bottle, he should’ve done anything, everything other than what he did do.

Maybe then Wilbur wouldn’t be here when he clearly would rather be anywhere else. Tommy was just such a fuck up wasn’t he?

Wilbur huffed, shrugging his coat on and turning right out the door again. “What’s a man gotta do for some goddamn eggs on a Monday morning.”

Oh right, Tommy had school today.

When Tubbo and Ranboo pulled up to the house that morning Tommy was already waiting for them. They didn’t ask why and Tommy didn’t feel like telling them. Tubbo had held a dish out for him but Tommy shook his head, he didn’t think he could stomach anything at the moment. Not when he fucked up this bad, Tommy had forgotten to get the groceries, it was his own fucking fault that Wilbur was upset. Wilbur was probably hungry and stressed. It probably made Tommy’s little tantrum look like nothing at all. He just needed to suck it up, he just needed to suck it up.

Ranboo and Tubbo were eyeing each other and then Tommy, did they see it too? Did they see what Wilbur saw, hell, what Phil and Techno saw? Did they also think that Tommy was being dramatic, if Ranboo did he was probably too nice to say anything and if Tubbo did… If Tubbo did… Tommy didn’t know what he would do. Fuck, he didn’t want to think about it.

“Hey, Big Man.” He said spreading what he hoped was a cheeky grin across his face. “Did you do the Maths homework?”

Tubbo turned to him, his face suddenly pale. “Oh fuck.”

The laughter that filled Ranboo’s shitty car did nothing to stop the emptiness in his heart. God, he just wanted to go back to sleep.

I don't know what to do without you, I don't know where to put my hands.

Francis Forever

Mitski

Tommy could imagine Technoblade’s voice scolding him for not paying attention in class, he could imagine that, and he could imagine a lot of other things too. God, he was just pathetic wasn’t he so desperate for love that his little worm brain let him dream he had it. You couldn’t have something you didn’t own, and Tommy had done nothing worth their love. Wilbur’s anger this morning proved that. His brain had to know what, it had to so why did it insist on pretending it didn’t.

“Blue doors my ass,” Purpled muttered in front of him. Mrs. Giles, their Literature professor was reading passages from the book their class was studying this month. Tommy didn’t have the brainpower to remember its name, only that it apparently was very deep, full of symbolism, and all the other crap teachers like.

“A fresh batch of bull shit if you ask me.” He mumbled back causing the other to snort.

Mrs. Giles' birdlike eyes snapped up and the lack of reading caused the whole class to fall into silence. “Something that you wish to share with the class, Mr. Watson?”

“No ma’am…” Tommy gulped, his heart hammering. Idiot, idiot, idiot, idiot. “I didn’t say anything.”

Her eyebrow raised. “I thought not, now. Our main character has told us that the blue door has a black handle. What could this mean?”

No one answered, and she sighed. “Sadness only leads us to despair, once we cross its threshold what awaits us is something infinitely worse.”

Tommy pretended to take notes and tried to take his mind off his spiraling thoughts.

The day passed in a blur and soon it was time for practice again. He was waiting by the front doors for Tubbo and Ranboo, he’d left his bag in the car and he needed it for today. Truth be told he wanted Tubbo and Ranboo to hug him, he wanted to know that they still loved them, he wanted them to tell him that he wasn’t annoying. Tommy would also rather die than admit that. Someone called out his name and he snapped his head up, it was Dream.

“Hey!” Tommy waved back, his stomach clenching as this morning came back to him. Dream had told Wilbur that something was wrong, that Tommy had done something to make him think something was wrong.

“Dream.” He called out. “Can we talk?”

His captain jogged over and threw his arm around Tommy warmly. In a humiliating moment of weakness, Tommy felt himself sag against Dream, soaking in the affection that he craved like a thirsty camel. Dream didn’t tease him and Tommy was grateful for that. “What’d you tell Wilbur?”

Dream hesitated. “Hmmm?”

“What’d you tell him…” Tommy repeated. “ Why’d  you tell him?”

“I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

Tommy scoffed. “You could’ve just asked Dream, you didn’t have to bother Wilbur. You know how important the band is to him.”

“He’s your brother,” Dream said like that justified it. “He should know you better than I do.”

“He does,” Tommy snapped, pushing the arm off of him. “ He does !”

Dream said nothing and stared at Tommy like he didn’t know what to say. He looked at Tommy with big sad, pitying eyes and it took everything Tommy had not to push him over and punch him right in the middle of the hallways. Dream didn’t know what he was talking about, he couldn’t.

“I’ll see you at practice, okay?” Dream gave his shoulders one last squeeze before he disappeared down the halls. Tommy’s hands were shaking and he felt like he was being strangled, he didn’t want this, he didn’t want this,  he didn’t want this .

“Tommy!” Tubbo yelled, and Tommy suddenly locked the panic away like it was a minor inconvenience. He didn’t want Tubbo to deal with his stupid meltdowns, not when he had to deal with everything else Tommy ever did.

“Hey,” He greeted. “I left my bag in Ranboo’s car, can I get it?”

Ranboo hummed before slipping out the door and into the parking lot. Right, Tommy could walk home today, that was fine he needed the time to think anyways. “How’re you doing Boss Man?”

“Good, good, just got balls on the brain. You know how it is.” Tommy quipped. Tubbo snorted at the joke and Tommy cracked a smile.

“So…” Tubbo said, suddenly quiet. “I heard that Wilbur came home this morning…”

Tommy wasn’t stupid there was no real way for Tubbo to know this unless Dream was the one who told him. “Yeah… he did.”

Tubbo didn’t ask anything else, only shooting Tommy a couple of questioning glances like he was waiting. Tommy wanted to ask what he was waiting to hear but he didn’t know if the answer was something he wanted to hear. He didn’t know if he could bear it.

Tommy was an asshole, wasn’t he? Holding onto Tubbo and Ranboo so desperately that he forgot that both of them had things they wanted to do, that they had people they wanted to grow into. It was selfish of him to hold onto them. That didn’t stop the small stupid part of Tommy that hoped that even if he couldn’t have Phil or Technoblade or even Wilbur he could still have Tubbo and Ranboo.

So when Ranboo came back with Tommy’s duffle bag slung over his shoulder Tommy put on his best smile and waved as they drove off. Tubbo had made him promise that he’d call if he needed a ride, but since Tommy was a liar he did what he did best.

Dream didn’t look at him today, nor did his friend call him over to have another ‘talk’. Tommy couldn’t tell if he was grateful for it or not, but just because Dream didn’t look his way didn’t mean that others had stopped. He could feel Sapnap, George, and even Sam looking at him through the day, he ignored it. None of them talked to him, but that was okay. It was fine. Practice ended early that day and everyone left quickly.

Tommy took his time packing his bag, it wasn’t like anyone was waiting for him. That was fine as well, he needed to get groceries in case Wilbur came back. The corner shop was empty this time of day, so it was easy for Tommy to grab the eggs, bread, and juice he needed. 

As the cashier scanned his items Tommy reached in his bag for his Advil and gave the bottle a shake. Empty. Well, fuck what was he gonna do now? The cashier looked up, took one glance at the bottle and Tommy’s jersey before saying, “If you want another, we have them by the batteries. It shouldn’t be much more than what you’d get at any other place, probably even cheaper.”

“Thanks, man.” Tommy sighed and leaned down to look at the bottles. Sure enough there it was: £4.80 for fifty pills, Tommy put two onto the counter and the lady scanned and bagged them both. He added a water bottle as well, for the walk home he told himself.

The sun was setting as Tommy made his way down the empty streets; everything was so quiet and still that Tommy wondered if he was really moving at all. It wouldn’t be out of character for Tommy to just stop walking suddenly, losing control of his limbs and just standing there. Maybe then he’d stop as well, maybe everything he’d known and felt would stay nonexistent even if for just a moment.

Tommy hadn’t stopped walking; he'd just zoned out just enough to not feel his legs moving. Reaching out towards the doorknob Tommy turned it, locked, just like he left it. He tried not to let it bother him. Tommy put the egg cartons in the fridge, dropped the bacon into the meat drawer, and placed the bread next to the toaster. Hopefully, if Wilbur comes back home they could actually talk and Tommy could apologize for what he did.

Tommy was tired, it was probably best that he slept.

When Tommy woke it was to the sound of a guitar and the sun on his face. The strumming was familiar and Tommy knew he’d heard it before, he just didn’t know where. Tommy also knew he’d done something like this before just not  when . “ It's not an ahegao hoodie, it's a work of art. ”

His brother made a frustrated noise as his fingers caused the strings to give a sharp twang. Ah, Wilbur was home. He’d  missed Wilbur ; it felt like it’d been a long, long time since they’d last seen each other. “Wil? What’s an ahegao hoodie?”

“Ah,” His brother faltered much to Tommy’s amusement. “Dad would kill me if I told you that--”

“I could always google---”

“No!” Wilbur  yelled , cutting him off. “Don’t do that!”

Tommy snorted and reached up to snag Wilbur’s stupid round glasses off of his face. “Meh, meh, meh, My name’s Wilbur and I reference anime and make music about incels and women. I’m balding in my twenties--”

Wilbur grabbed Tommy by the waist and sent them both toppling onto the ground. Tommy screeched holding Wilbur’s glasses out of reach trying to knock his abnormally long arms away. “Give that back you absolute  gremlin .”

Tommy cackled evilly and in a fit of brilliance threw Wilbur’s glasses back towards the tree, all he had to do was keep Wilbur here and he’d win. Wilbur gave him a larger and more eviler grin and Tommy faltered, no, he wouldn’t dare do that. His brother’s face brightened as his hands moved to Tommy’s neck and viciously tickled him. “WIL, WIL-- BAHAHA-- STOP--”

“No.” Wilbur grinned. “This is revenge, this is JUSTICE--”

“This looks like bullying to me.” Technoblade mused, cutting Wilbur off.

Tommy reached out desperately “Tech! Techno save me,  save me !”

“Well… when said like that, it looks like I’ll have to step in.” Technoblade gave Wilbur a feral grin and wiggled his fingers threateningly. Tommy took his chance to push Wilbur over and started to tickle his sides in earnest. Techno snorted and Tommy’s stomach was aching from his laughter.

“Vengeance, vengeance, vengeance, vengeance!” Tommy chanted, he was backed up by Technoblade’s monotone agreement.

Through his laughter, Wilbur managed to gasp out, “Mercy, Mercy, Mercy--”

“Now what’s this?” Phil asked, leaning against the back door with a small grin on his face. “What’ve you three been up to while I was gone.”

Before Wilbur could start Tommy butted in, “Philll, Wilby’s being mean to me.”

“Oh? Is that right?” Phil asked. His twinkling eyes ruined his serious act but Tommy didn’t really care, way too giddy with happiness.

“Vouch. 100%” Techno said.

“Hey!” Wilbur gasped, offended. “I did no such thing.”

“Yeah, you did.” Tommy stuck his tongue out. “Meanie.”

Wilbur put his hand on his heart. “Ouch.”

“Well, I see only one solution to this.” All of them turned to Phil, curious. His eyes were serious, his face widening into a grin. Oh fuck. They all started booking it when Phil chased after them, his arms out and reaching for his victims. “You can run! But you can’t hide!”

“TRUCE, TRUCE! PHILLLL--”

Chapter Text

Even if Tommy wasn’t a prodigy at least he was independent. Technobade was a genius, Wilbur was creative, and Tommy was independent. So Tommy did everything an independent person would do, he woke up in the morning, made breakfast, left a plate for Wilbur in case he came back, packed his bag, rode his bike to school, went to practice, and rode his bike back. Tommy was independent and maybe that would be enough.

Phil and Techno had come back from the competition all smiles and talk, Technoblade had of course won the whole thing. Tommy smiled and cheered perfectly placed congratulations. His brother was raving about the competition and the skills of his competitors and how he’d like to compete more in Europe if he had the chance. Right now though Techno had to finish college and Phil had to get back to work, so once again the house was empty.

“Have a good time at your  English and Music  college.” Tommy teased. “Nerd.”

Techno rolled his eyes and Tommy winched. “Don’t get into too much trouble while I’m gone. Gods know that Wilbur would let you get away with  anything .”

Tommy smiled. “Oh, you know me, drugs and balls and all that shit.”

Technoblade groaned and Tommy grinned it didn’t matter that it was fake, he was smiling. Wilbur had left almost the moment he came in, he hadn’t even looked at Tommy or acknowledged that he existed. The plate he’d left covered on the table remained full night after night, and Tommy would wake up in the morning to eat the old one and make a new one. It was fine at least he got food in the mornings, it didn’t matter that it tasted like ash most of the time or that the texture of the eggs made him want to vomit. It was fine and if Wilbur came home then everything would be more than fine.

“Bye, Tech.” He said, his brother hummed and was soon out the door again.

Tommy was independent and even if it wasn’t enough he had to make it enough.

The bike ride to school made his legs tense and stiff but it was worth it. It was fine; it wasn’t like there was anyone in the house he had to placate or look good for. Plus he could use it as a chance to increase his stamina or some shit, yeah, that sounded good. Sure if he came to school early and left late he could blame it on pre-competition anxiety, not that he had that, Tommy was too big of a man for that.

Sure he seemed to have lost some weight but that was why he needed so many eggs you know protein and shit. Plus the biking would mean he got muscly legs and you know how the ladies liked their muscles. Sure he’d stopped coming to lunch and Tubbo had stopped coming to practice but it was fine, a big man such as himself was busy and Tubbo had Ranboo and their pig son. Sure Tommy had been sitting outside during lunch to avoid people but you know he needed time to think, and he totally wasn’t avoiding people no-sir-e.

Fuck, Tommy really wanted to cry. Maybe if he did he’d stop feeling like he was drowning when he  wasn’t  and the stupid numbness could go away and he could feel normal and  fine  again. It was fine after practice today there was no homework so he could go back to sleep and wake up tomorrow feeling better. It was fine, it was fine, it was  fine---

“Hey man, can I sit here?” Tommy blinked, not totally sure if this was something his brain had made up again.

The boy was standing there holding a blue lunch box with a matching blue beanie and a stupid two-piece suit. “Uh… sure?”

He smiled. “Thanks man!”

“No problem…” Tommy smiled nervously. He had no idea why the kid was here but he knew he’d never seen him before. “What’s your name?”

He grinned. “I’m Quackity, I just transferred in today from across ‘ the pond’  or whatever.”

“You’re American?” Tommy blinked. “ Ew .”

Quackity cackled. “Oh  fuck  no, don’t you ever say that to me again little British boy.”

“Your very existence ruins the soil of our sacred nation! Treason! Treason I say!” Tommy put a hand on his heart. “Think of the QUEEN for god’s sake!”

“Fuck the queen--” Tommy gasped and Quackity wheezed. He let out a screech and chased after Quackity, yelling about treason and assholes and other shit too. It had been a long time since Tommy had felt this happy… It was… nice.

If Tommy went home that day with a spring in his step and his phone buzzing with texts, it was no one’s business but his own.

Are we something that's worth saving? Every conversation puts me back on medication

Painkiller

Beach Bunny

The plate on the kitchen table was untouched, not like that was unusual. It was always untouched when Tommy came home, in the same way the door was always locked, and the lights always off, and the fridge left kind of empty. It was such a contrast with Tommy’s happy mood that he almost forgot why he was happy in the first place, he probably would have if Quackity hadn’t been constantly spamming him.

Send to:  Duck Bitch

Why do british people say ‘bloody’ so much

Like okay Pirate headass

Say tht agin and Ill mae ur life a bloody hell

Okay Ron Weasley.

Fuck you

Are thees questions from Buzzfeed or osmthing?

They suck

No, totally not

Ok Millennial

FUCK OFF

LET ME LIVE

:P

It was nice knowing that life didn’t just suck in general, that there was something left to look forward to. The buzzing halted as Quackity texted that his mom had made dinner, Tommy sent a random meme and tossed his phone to the side. Looked like he was having breakfast for dinner again. He tossed the plate in the microwave and listened to the crackle of the bacon. It smelt disgusting but he’d rather die than get yelled at for wasting food.

The smell of the eggs and bacon overwhelmed him and Tommy gagged. He just had to eat and he could go to bed, it was  fine . He speared the eggs with a fork and shoved them into his mouth as fast as possible and washed down the mushy taste with the stupid soggy toast. Tommy had been doing fine, perfect even, until he got to the bacon. It was crispy and greasy and fatty in all the wrong places. 

Tommy gagged and that was a big mistake. Suddenly his stomach clenched. Fuck, fuck, fuck,  please no. Sure enough, the moment that Tommy managed to push away from the table and stumble his way over to the kitchen sink he was vomiting everything out again. Groaning and absolutely miserable Tommy wanted nothing more than to just lay on the floor and perish. He could smell the vomit from here and hated the fact that he could imagine the chunks of bacon floating in it.

Tommy turned on the sink and unstopped the drain, he prayed that it all washed out and he didn’t have to use his hands. He tried to breathe around the pain but the taste of the vomit in his mouth caused him to sob. He wanted his dad, he wanted Techno, fuck he wanted Wilbur, or Tubbo, or Ranboo or anyone at all. Tommy hated being independent; he just wanted to go home.  He wanted to go home.

Before he realized what he was doing Tommy had his phone in his hands, pressed against his ear as the familiar voicemail echoed out.  “You’ve reached Phil Watson. I'm unavailable at the moment but feel free to leave a message at the beep. ”

Tommy didn’t wait for the beep, ending the call and redialing as fast as possible. It took a few moments, a few attempts but Phil picked up. “Hello?”

“Hullo.” He said. “‘Ow do?”

Tommy remembered the dream, remembered how Phil smiled at him and hugged him and how he smelt like  home . Fuck Tommy couldn’t even remember what Phil smelt like or what cologne he wore. “Tommy? It’s late, why are you still up?”

Looking up at the clock Tommy saw that it was 9. Fuck, the time just whizzed by didn’t it. “Just wanted to check-in. See how you’re doing.”

Phil said nothing for a long moment. “Are you okay mate?”

“You sound like shit.” Another voice added. Something in Tommy froze, caught off guard that their conversation wasn’t  private , caught off guard that their dad was with  Technoblade  when Techno’s collage was hours away from where his meeting was.

“No, I don’t! You’re the one who sounds like shit!” Tommy stuttered his lungs threatening to suck all the air out of the house with how desperate they were. “ Fuck you !”

Phil chuckled. “You really don’t sound good at all mate, is Wilbur home?”

No, Tommy wanted to say, no Wilbur hasn’t been home, Wilbur’s never been home. He’s been lying and lying and Tommy’s been helping, and if Phil could come home right this moment before Tommy dropped onto the floor and before he bankrupted them with their water bill that would be  great . Tommy didn’t say any of that though, he couldn’t. “He’s sleeping, I didn’t want to bug him.”

“Oh, that’s fine then. What’d you need mate?” Phil asked.

“... Do you have any Advil in your room?” He asked. “I have a migraine.”

Phil hummed, pitying. “There should be a bottle on my bedside table if you need to stay home do it. Right mate?”

“Yeah…” He mumbled. “Thanks.”

Ending the call Tommy could do nothing to stop himself from bursting into sobs.  Fuck , of course Phil was with Techno, fuck he was so  stupid  to expect otherwise. Phil was with Techno, Wilbur was with his friends, and Tommy had nobody. Tommy was by himself. He wondered for a brief moment if he could call Quackity, if his friend would come over and comfort him but that thought was quickly squashed down. He’d just met Quackity today; he couldn’t call him all snotty-nosed and upset like a toddler. Quackity wouldn’t want to be friends with him anymore, and to be fair Tommy wouldn’t want to be friends with himself either.

He took in a shuddering breath, willing the tears away. He just needed to go to bed, he’ll feel better in the morning. He’d feel better in the morning. Tommy peeked into the sink and was happy to find that it was clear, he didn’t know if he could stop himself from hurling up what was left in his empty stomach. He’d taken the only bottle of Advil Phil had left in his room a long time ago, there was nothing in there for him to get but for some reason, he still walked in.

On the bed was a giant stuffed crow, something they’d won at a carnival years ago. Phil had gotten a crow, Technoblade had a polar bear, Wilbur had a fish, and Tommy had gotten a cow. He’d named it Henry and carried it everywhere with him. He didn’t have many memories of when he had Henry, only those of when he’d lost him:

Tommy had been ten and annoyed that Techno was ignoring him, his brother had stopped taking track and instead was spending a lot of time cooped up in his room. He couldn’t allow that, not when Techno had promised to play a game with him. So Tommy had hidden the closet and waited for Techno to come back, he was gonna jump out and scare his brother then blackmail him into playing with him! It was a brilliant plan!

With Henry in his arms, Tommy made himself cozy. Since he was small he was also very impatient and spent most of his time moving instead of being stealthy. That was his biggest mistake. When Techno came back Tommy jumped out a large smile on his face.

“Boo!”  Technoblade jumped, looking at Tommy in surprise.  “I got ya! I got ya!”

Techno had smiled.  “Yeah, ya did.”

Tommy jumped excitedly and babbled the whole time about how now he had to play with him, and how it was the law, and he’d tell all his friends that Techie was a scaredy-cat if didn’t. Suddenly there was a crash and the two of them turned towards the closet. Techno’s violin had fallen from its spot and it looked a little cracked. His brother’s smile faded and Tommy stopped talking.

“Uh oh...”  He’d said. Technoblade’s shock had quickly turned into anger.

Tommy had frozen, not recognizing Techno at all.  “Uh oh? Uh oh! Is that all you have to say? Do you know how expensive that was?”

His brother had yelled a couple more awful things before Tommy had fled the room, tears falling down his cheeks. He’d locked his door and buried himself into his covers, his little body shaking with sobs. Out of instinct, he’d reached out for Henry, but he wasn’t there and the only thing Tommy could do in response was cry.

He’d searched for Henry but could never find him, so the quartet of animals turned into a trio. It was ironic really that Tommy was the only one without a stuffed animal and that he was also the only one without someone to comfort him. It was poetic something Mrs. Giles would have them write a short paragraph about or spend the entire class period talking about. Something Tommy hated listening to because it seemed like she was looking right through him and that everyone else probably could as well.

Ha, it was funny. A bear, a fish, and a crow; and a stupid little cow who had no room there in their little family, who had no right to tell itself it belonged with them. Why did it still like insisting that it did, why did it still wait there in the pasture for a farmer that would never come back again? Well, like the cow Tommy didn’t know either and he didn’t want to think about it too much. His head hurt, his heart hurt.

On Phil’s bedside table were a few orange pill bottles, prescriptions for his back pain. Their dad always had one set in his luggage and the other at home for when he needed them. Tommy hesitated for a moment looking at the bottles. The lady at the counter kept giving him concerned looks when Tommy would come in for another bottle of Advil. He knew what it looked like, like he was drowning his sorrows in pills or that he was using them to get high or something instead of getting help. It wasn’t his fault that he  needed  them, that he couldn’t sleep without them or that he liked the dreams he got when he took them.

The orange bottles were mockingly bright against the black paint of the table like they were an important video game item or something equally eye-catching. Surely… surely Phil wouldn’t notice if he took a few, it wasn’t like he’d be  home  to notice and it wasn’t like Tommy was using them for anything bad. Tommy only wanted to sleep, he only wanted to wake up in the morning feeling warm and refreshed. Tommy only wanted to wake up feeling loved in the only way he could.

It would be fine. Right?

Chapter Text

“Should we-- He’s not-- Tommy?” Tommy groaned, reaching out to swat away at the hand that was shaking him. Fuck, it was too early for this shit, he was so fucking tired.

“Tommy?” Tubbo of all people asked and Tommy froze, not fully comprehending how Tubbo was here. Scratch that,  why was he here? “Tommy? Bossman? It’s time to wake up.”

Fuck, why did Tubbo sound like he was gonna cry? What did Tommy do this time? “I’m up, I’m up.”

“Oh thank fuck .” Ranboo muttered and Tommy could only gape. When the fuck did that happen, how much had Tommy missed?

“Language.” He scolded.

Ranboo raised an eyebrow, “Says you.”

Okay, fair enough but that didn’t answer why they were here. When Tommy had cut contact all those weeks ago neither of them made any attempt to reconnect. He’d thought they’d finally given up on him and moved on to greater and better things, he was sure of it even. Fuck, they’d been sitting in the cafeteria with Purpled, Punz, and Jack Manifold while Tommy spent his time outside with Big Q. Not that Tommy was unhappy with that, honestly, Tommy was very happy spending time with Quackity. Even if he did miss his friends.

“What’s got you all teary-eyed Tubzo?” Tommy asked, steering the conversation away to more comfortable waters.

“You missed school today.” Tubbo sniffed. Tommy froze, his heart faltering.

“What?” Tommy bolted up out of bed to check his phone. Sure enough, it was 3:20, fuck, fuck, fuck . Tommy tried pushing himself out of bed only to stumble. Fuck, his legs felt like jello.

Tubbo sniffed louder. “We thought you were dead, you wouldn’t wake up, and we thought you were dead!”

“Oh,” Tommy said. That… that wasn’t what he was expecting. Tubbo was sniffling and Ranboo looked ready to start crying himself, god, they’d been doing just fine without him and now look what happened. Tommy truly wasn’t good for anyone. “I just had a killer migraine last night, I slept past my alarm and shit. Sorry about scaring you.”

Neither of them said anything for a long time. “Are you feeling better?”

“Right as rain.” Tommy lied. “At least the extra sleep means I’ll have more energy to kick Dream’s ass in practice!”

Tommy rushed out of the room to get ready, he’d skip showering today and do it when he got back. Hopefully, it wouldn’t be so cold then. Ranboo trailed along after him watching Tommy like he expected him to drop any second. Frankly, it was nerve-racking. Tommy was just about to snap and ask Ranboo what the fuck he was staring at when there was a knock at the door. Fuck it was a party in here. Not that he really cared, having anyone was better than having no one.

The door creaked open and Quackity of all people poked his head in. “Hello?”

“Big Q? How are you?” Tommy cheered, pulling the older into a hug. “How’d you get here?”

Quackity grinned. “I asked Dream for your address since I didn’t see you at school today. I was gonna pick you up for practice.”

“You know about football?” Tommy asked, he hadn’t expected that. Yesterday all the two of them talked about was music and how Quackity was thinking about working for a local band. Management, he said, something about being very convincing and all that big brain shit.

“I know about soccer.” The Bastard grinned.

“Oh shut up.” Tommy dug in a barb about Americans and Quackity shot back with a mocking mimic. Tommy was about to reach out and pull the beanie out from his head when Ranboo cleared his throat.

“Want to introduce us?” He asked. Right, right, fuck Tommy felt bad now. Ranboo and Tubbo had come all this way for Tommy and he’d just brushed off their efforts like it was nothing. They probably had so many better things they should be doing now, like visiting their pig son or playing Minecraft or gardening or baking. Tommy should let them go, it was for the best. It was for the best .

“This is Quackity, I… He’ll be taking me to practice so it’s okay if you guys want to leave.” Tommy smiled, Ranboo’s face was stiff.

“ Yeah , I think we’ll go.” Then they were off the doors slamming closed behind them like a thunderclap. Oh, okay then. Quackity was looking at him with a concerned furrow to his brow, Tommy tried for a smile that he hoped looked real.

“You doing good kid?” He asked.

Tommy smiled a little wider. “Yeah, yeah, I just had a migraine last night. You know how it is.”

Quackity nodded watching quietly as Tommy gathered the last of his things, he wordlessly reached out for the bags and Tommy nodded. He was feeling a bit lightheaded so he didn’t have much room to complain.

“You sure you should be wearing that today?” Quackity asked.

Tommy rolled his eyes. “It’s cold today, innit?”

“No?” Oh, well maybe Tommy was still a bit sick. “Are you feeling okay?”

“Probably the migraine.” He lied. “I haven’t been feeling well.”

Tommy’s mind felt oddly blank and in all honesty, he felt like he was still dreaming. If he was, it would make sense, why in the world would Quackity of all people appear at his doorstep? Plus if it really was Ranboo and Tubbo who came over the two of them wouldn’t have left in such a rush. They’d introduce themselves to Quackity and the four of them would get in a car together. Tommy could regulate his personality around Quackity and then Tubbo and Ranboo wouldn’t feel so stifled by him, everything would’ve been back to normal. Tommy wouldn’t feel so lonely anymore.

It wasn’t that Quackity wasn’t good company, it was the opposite really. The older boy was extremely good company, he had the same humor as Tommy, he knew about football and had even played for a few years, being around him gave Tommy a rush of energy he only really felt when he was around… When he was around Wilbur. It was only then that Tommy started connecting dots: beanies, likes music, and fuck Tommy had even thought of Quackity as a  brother figure. 

God, it was absolutely pathetic . He’d known the guy for less than a day and here he was picking Tommy up to take him to practice. He’d just gone and latched onto another person when he’d promised himself he wouldn’t, not until he could fix whatever was wrong with him. Whatever it was about him that made him want to push people away and make them hate him. He just… He was just so tired of trying for something that didn’t seem possible anymore. Tommy didn’t know what he could do anymore.

There's indecision when you know you ain't got nothing left when the good times never stay and the cheap thrills always seem to fade away.

Fall Down

Toad the Wet Sprocket

The grass was wet and slippery. One look at his weather app told him it had rained this morning. It could explain why Tommy felt so chilly, England was never really known for its tropical and mild climate after all. Well, bad weather or not as Tommy would say: the Grind never stops. The team was spread out doing pre-practice stretches while Quackity was busy using his jacket as a cushion on the wet grandstand. Tommy had tried to get him to stay in the car but the moment Quackity had started taunting him about his nonexistent football abilities Tommy was about to kick the ball right in his face.

Fine, if the bastard had to be so smug about pulling one over on Tommy he deserved to get soaked, Tommy totally didn’t give up his jacket because he was nice . Totally not. “KICK THEIR ASSES TOMMY!”

No, Tommy was totally not smiling. Who told you that? “SHUT UP!”

The whistle blew and Tommy ran to his position. Across from him apparently, a member of the ‘other team’ Dream was grinning. “So? Who’s the new friend?”

“He’s not my friend, he’s just a random loser I picked up,” Tommy mumbled, he knew that the red of his ears probably gave him away but he didn’t really care.

Dream snickered but the moment the whistle blew he stopped, his eyes keen on Sapnap who would start the game off. Sapnap kicked the ball to Karl, who burst forward straight past Sam and George before he passed it to Connor. It was then that Dream stole the ball away from Conner and gave it a harsh kick to Sam who had an easy path to the goal. Try as Antfrost might’ve he wouldn’t have been fast enough to stop it. Sam’s kicks were absolutely legendary.

“Next time! Next time!” Tommy cheered, noticing Antfrost’s frown. The game continued on, the balance shifting between them as rapidly as tides in the ocean. At one point Tommy had gotten such a good kick that Quackity stood up to give him a standing ovation.

It was about halfway through the game that Coach called a timeout yelling at Dream and Sapnap for a quick discussion. Tommy was grateful for that because he wasn’t sure how long he could keep this up for, fuck, he was  thirsty . He’d practically snatched the bottle from Quackity’s hands and guzzled half of it down before his friend had tried stopping him. “Fuck kid, slow down will you.”

“S’rry,” Tommy mumbled shaking his head against the sudden nausea. His biking was supposed to improve his stamina, why in the world was he so tired? It didn’t make sense, Tommy was one of the last people you’d expect to get tired, Phil himself would even wonder if it was possible. Tommy himself had even thought it was impossible, but god, this season really wanted to prove him wrong.

“Do you need to sit out?” Quackity asked, concern coloring his tone. Tommy wanted to snap at him, yell that he was  fine and that he was just saving his energy or some other shit but he didn’t have the strength.

Instead, he sucked in a deep breath. “No, no. I just need to get into the swing of things. I’ll be fine.”

“If you’re sure.” 

“I’m sure.”

Tommy tried his best to keep up with the ball. For some reason, it seemed to have gotten much, much faster. It went from Sapnap to Conner, to George, to Sam, to Callahan, and when it was flying Tommy’s way he missed it and it went straight into Dream’s waiting arms. Tommy managed to make it up the next round by stealing the ball from George and passing it to Callahan. Fuck, the wet grass was really messing him up, something about the smell was absolutely overwhelming.

So overwhelming in fact that when Tommy was trying to breathe around a lungful he didn’t hear Sapnap’s warning, he didn’t hear the sound of feet running towards him, he didn’t fully comprehend what was happening until Dream had barreled right into him. It took a moment for Tommy to register Dream’s shocked face and for him to register the state of his leg . A hot and excruciating wave of pain rolled through Tommy and it took everything in him not to wail.

“SOMEONE GET THE NURSE!” Dream screamed, frantically grabbing at Tommy. Tommy’s ears were ringing, a high-pitched sound that soon drowned out everything Dream was saying. Though Tommy did get the vague impression that Dream was trying to keep him awake. God, did sleep sound so fucking good right about now.

When Tommy woke it was to pain. That, and Quackity’s worried face looking down on him. Apparently, Dream had been running towards the ball when the wet grass caused him to slip. Unfortunately, Tommy was right in his path and somehow the momentum caused his leg to twist under him. The older had come in frantically apologizing and beating himself up over it all that Tommy had to put it straight.

“God Dream, it isn’t like you can control gravity or some shit. Just leave it alone, give me your life savings and we’ll call it even.” The joke made Dream chuckle but felt flat and ashy against Tommy’s tongue. They didn’t know if his leg was broken, and Tommy prayed to whatever power that was out there that it was not. He didn’t know what he’d do if he didn’t have football to play.

Fuck, how long would it be until he was allowed to play again?

“I’m sadly not qualified enough to tell if this is a fracture or a dislocation. I’ve already sent a notice to your family about what happened, I recommend keeping off of your leg for as long as possible. At least until we know what’s happened.” Her words floated around Tommy so much all he could do was nod. Quackity was saying something but Tommy couldn’t focus enough to make any of it out. God, his leg could be broken .

It was only when Quackity hoisted Tommy up by the arm that he tuned in. “Come on kid, I’ll take you home.”

“But practice isn’t over,” He complained.

Quackity scoffed. “In your condition? God, I think they’d all kill me if I let you stay.”

Tommy didn’t think that was true at all but didn’t argue. If he got home he could figure this all out. Hopefully, before Phil or anyone else could get home. Hopefully, they wouldn’t even see the email or get the call. Then Tommy could hide how much of an idiot he was, seriously, who in the world zones out in the middle of a game? Tommy fucking Watson apparently.

“Just drop me off,” He managed to say after a long silence. “Someone should be home soon.”

Quackity hummed his fingers tapping on the steering wheel. “You sure? I could stay until--”

“No!” Quackity raised his eyebrow. Fuck, Tommy was just screwing up everything today wasn’t he? “Don’t you have that interview today? For that management position? With who was that again?”

Quackity gave him a small smile. “With Soot House, they’ve been doing really well. Plus I really like their stuff, and I think with my brains and their talent we can really make it somewhere.”

Something in Tommy froze at that, Soot House, that was Wilbur’s band. The one he was working so hard on getting off the ground, the one that took up so much of his time, the one that stressed him out. If Big Q managed to get the job that would mean that Wilbur would have more time to write songs and produce them instead of worrying about all the other things. God, he needed to get Quackity over there and fast . “Yeah ! Exactly, I’d never be able to live with myself if you missed that! Listen, I’m a big man, I can take care of myself!”

He ignored the wave of pain that seemed to protest against his reasoning. He’d be fine, he just needed some Advil or something and he’d sleep it off, deal with it in the morning. By then everything would be settled and they could sweep this under the rug. 

“You sure?” Quackity’s brows were furrowed in concern, but Tommy could tell he was torn.

He smiled, a big charming one he remembered Wilbur using when he was trying to get out of trouble. “Of course man, do I look like a liar?”

Quackity helped him through the door and into bed, he even went down into the kitchen for the hot water bottle, and vehemently promised Tommy some of his mum’s homemade soup. Tommy was almost ready to push the bastard out the door himself when he was finally satisfied that Tommy was just fine . “Okay, okay. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

Tommy hummed, breathing deep around the swell of pain. “Course, good night.”

The door slammed shut and it was only then that Tommy allowed a sob to rip past his lips. Fuck, it hurt so damn much. There was no way his leg wasn’t broken, and if it was broken that meant he couldn’t play, and that meant he’d be benched for the rest of the fucking season. The sob soon turned into full-blown tears and Tommy was left hunched over like a wounded animal.

It hurt so fucking much. So fucking much . A loud sob caused his whole body to shake and that only made the pain worse. God, didn’t they give him any painkillers? Even Quackity in all his stupid mother henning hadn’t even thought about that. Not that Tommy could blame him; he'd finished the last bottle yesterday. It was his own fault that he didn’t have any left. It was his own damn fault that he got injured, he needed to suck it up and stop acting like a stupid baby.

Tommy sucked in a deep breath remembering something about breathing patterns and falling asleep, if he could just get it right he’ll fall asleep and everything would be fine. It would be fine . It was just that each breath he took seemed to rattle his leg, and each little twitch sent pain shooting through him. The closest Tommy had ever come to breaking his leg was when he was ten and had fallen out of a tree. 

Someone had told him that he didn’t have the guts to climb it, and Tommy wanting to prove them wrong had climbed it. The only problem was that Tommy only knew how to get up the tree, not get down it. Despite Phil’s pleas that he  stayed there , Tommy had tried climbing down and took a tumble. The pain then was nothing compared to what he felt now, it felt like his leg was still breaking even though the actual break had happened hours before.

The biggest difference between now and then was that when he’d fallen out the tree he’d had two worried brothers and his father hovering over him. Now, he had no one, only himself. Phil had stayed with him making sure Tommy had lots of warm soup and hugged him when the pain was too much even for the painkillers he’d taken. But Phil wasn’t home, and Tommy didn’t have any more painkillers.

Wait. Tommy didn’t have any more painkillers, but Phil did.

They were there, right in his room on his bedside table. All Tommy had to do was get to them. Tommy tried pushing himself out of bed only to whimper as his leg protested against his sudden movements. It was fine, Tommy could just sleep in Phil’s bed. He just had to get there first. Tommy was running on fumes now, leaning against the wall and limping along to Phil’s room. Against his better judgment, his eyes flickered into his brother’s bedrooms and to the plushies that rested on top of their smooth sheets.

Without thinking about it he gathered both the polar bear and the fish up and hobbled his way into Phil’s room. If he didn’t have his family, maybe this could be enough. Even if it wasn’t Tommy would make it enough. Tommy collapsed on the bed, tears were streaming down his face at his point, and his chest was heaving with every breath he’d managed to suck in. Everything hurt, his eyes, his heart, his leg and Tommy just wanted it to end. He just wanted it to stop .

He wanted his dad here with his arms around him whispering to Tommy that he was alright, he wanted Wilbur’s soup and soft lullabies, and craved Technoblade’s solid presence and comforting monotone. Something, anything so that Tommy could feel less alone. Tommy reached for the bottles, his hands struggling to push down on the top and twist  it off. He dumped several into his palm and swallowed them dry. The stuffed animals were pressed against his chest and Tommy tried his best to imagine they were anything else than what they actually were.

He was curled up pathetically in Phil’s bed, too overwhelmed and hurt to actually manage anything else. If he could he’d pretend the crow was Phil sitting near enough that Tommy could lay his head on his lap. He’d pretend that the fish was Wilbur who’d be playing with Tommy’s hair and humming. He’d pretend that the polar bear was Techno who on rare occasions would let Tommy sleep in his room, his arms warm and solid around Tommy’s smaller frame. Tommy would pretend, and pretend, and pretend, and pretend until he didn’t feel empty anymore. He’d pretend until his dream finally came true.

It was with that that Tommy finally fell asleep.

When he woke up, there was humming and his head was resting on someone’s lap. Someone else was keeping his leg elevated. It was then that Tommy realized that he wasn’t in pain and his eyes snapped open. His head was resting on Phil who was stroking his hair, Wilbur was somewhere behind him humming , and Techno… Techno had his foot in his lap keeping it up. Fuck that was right, elevation helped lessen pain. How could he have forgotten?

“Dad?” He croaked out reaching up for Phil. He wanted to see if he was real, god he hoped this was real. Phil grabbed Tommy’s hand, his smile sad, almost mournful. Tommy frowned, why did Phil look so upset?

“Hi mate, you took a right tumble didn’t you?” Tommy nodded sniffling, his face still tearstained. He felt icky and wrong and his ears were ringing.

Wilbur’s humming faltered for a bit before starting up again, but Tommy could feel the tears soaking into his shirt. He frowned when he swore that he felt little droplets at his feet, but it wasn’t like he could look. Phil’s warm hands were too nice, so warm against Tommy’s cold face that he couldn’t bring himself to move. “You’re okay now. Okay Tommy? You’re okay now.”

Phil sounded like he was going to cry but his hands never stopped running through Tommy’s curls, his grip never once faltered. Tommy was glad Phil was here, he didn’t know what he would’ve done if he wasn’t there. 

“Dad? Please don’t leave me again,” His voice faltered when a fresh wave of tears stung his eyes. “I was so lonely , I missed you so much.”

“I won’t,” Phil promised. “I won’t.”

Tommy shuttered the promise sounding like gospel. “Really?”

“I promise.” Tommy could feel his limbs relax, could feel his heart slowing down. He felt a little faint. Sleeping sounded good right now, it sounded really, really good. Something was stopping him though and he felt very very childish, but he just wanted to know that Phil, and Wilbur, and Techno would still be here when he woke up. “Stay?”

“For as long as you need me to.” Tommy would always need Phil, and there was never a moment that he ever wanted him gone. Tommy still couldn’t curb the feeling that Phil was the one who didn’t want him. He just had one more question… just one more stupid little question before he fell asleep.

"Dad?" Tommy asked. "Did you ever love me?"

Phil didn't hesitate. "I've always loved you, and I will always love you. Don't doubt that."

There was a ruffling that sounded much like a bird getting ready to fly, but Tommy’s head was too heavy to lift anymore. With Wilbur and Techno and Phil all around him Tommy closed his eyes. 

The funny thing was that Tommy had never even opened his eyes in the first place.

And he’d never open them again.

Chapter Text

Listen, Wilbur knew he’d fucked up. Niki had told him, Dream had told him, and fuck if Phil knew he’d tell him the same thing. He knew the moment he’d stormed out of the house that what he said was uncalled for, and the moment he got food into his stomach he knew what he said was downright stupid. He loved Tommy, he really did, and that was why he couldn’t stay home. He hated the way that Tommy’s face had dropped, he hated the way Tommy stepped away from him, he hated that he of all people had caused that.

Wilbur had promised himself he wouldn’t come home until everything was settled, then he’d buy Tommy anything he wanted to make up for it. It was a stroke of luck that the perfect person had just fallen their way. Quackity had the knowledge and experience with management and paperwork that Wilbur sadly lacked. Weight was taken off of his shoulders. The two of them had spent most of the night talking over paperwork and the pros and cons of different record deals. 

Quackity was savvy and had a quick wit, with an eye for detail. While Wilbur would’ve been able to manage everything just fine, it was a relief to be allowed to focus most of his energy on the creative half of the whole business. He could feel the cord of tension in them slowly uncoil and by the end of the night, he was the calmest that he’d been in over a year.

“Listen, man, thank you. You seriously don’t understand how much I appreciate this.” 

Quackity grinned. “No, I’m the one who should be thanking you. But hey, think about making my pay raise a little early and I’ll let it slide.”

Wilbur smiled, god, it was funny how such a small thing like that just reminded him of Tommy. When Quackity got into his car, he found himself frowning. Tommy, he’d been ignoring him, hadn’t he? Something in Wilbur soured at that realization. At the time ignoring Tommy felt like the best and only solution, Wilbur had been so stressed and short-tempered that he feared he’d hit some unsaid boundary that would ruin their relationship forever.

He was probably just overthinking it, Tommy had Tubbo and Ranboo. He was fine. So with that Wilbur turned back, closing the rented studio and double-checking the locks first. He’d get Tommy a cake to make up for it, something close to the two-tier obnoxiously chocolate cake that Tommy would always get for his birthday. Then Wilbur would rent Up and they could watch it together, Tommy would understand and they’d be fine.

Wilbur scrolled through his contacts for a moment before hesitating on Tommy’s number, but before he could think too deeply he clicked the call button. “You’ve reached the voicemail of Tommy Watson, the biggest man you’ll ever meet!”

The sound of Tommy’s excited voice brought a small smile to Wilbur’s face. It was 11, late depending on what your standard was, and if Wilbur remembered correctly it was a Wednesday. So it wasn’t strange that Tommy didn’t answer, frankly, if he did answer Wilbur would’ve scolded him for it. He snorted when he realized it didn’t matter what day it was, he was gonna waltz into their house with a cake and they’d stay up watching a movie. 

He’d have to call Tommy out of school and the two of them could hang around the house. Brotherly bonding, Wilbur smiled, that sounded nice right about now. It took him a long time to find a corner store with good, non-cardboardy chocolate cake but he did. He even got two of them for good luck. 

When Wilbur pulled up to the driveway and saw that the lights were still on he was surprised. Tommy never slept with the lights on not since he was a small child. Even if he was the only person in the house he'd refuse out of spite and determination. Something about being too big of a man to fear thieves and monsters or something else along that line.

It hurt thinking that Tommy might’ve gotten scared and didn’t have Wilbur there to comfort him. 

Wilbur slowly opened the door making sure he didn’t make any noise. Tommy’s football bag was propped on the couch and his school stuff was strewn all over the place. It wasn’t odd since Tommy was a teenage boy but why did Wilbur feel so uneasy? He quickly made his way up the stairs, the cakes balanced in his right hand.

“Toms?” He called. There was no answer but Wilbur was hesitant to knock again. “Tommy?”

When he had to knock a third time Wilbur’s heart was hammering. “I’m going to come in okay?”

He pushed the door open, but Tommy wasn’t there. Wilbur dropped the cakes without a second thought. “Tommy!?”

The bathroom was empty, Technoblade’s room was empty, Wilbur’s room was empty. With a panic attack rapidly approaching Wilbur finally found himself throwing Phil’s door open. Tommy was there laying on Phil’s bed fast asleep. “Oh thank god.”

Tommy looked very small curled up on the bed. It reminded Wilbur of the time Tommy had watched a horror movie when they’d all warned him not to. Tommy had refused to sleep by himself, constantly rotating between the three bedrooms; it wasn’t uncommon for one of them to find Tommy there, waiting with Henry in his arms. 

Fuck, did Tommy have Sally? Wilbur hadn’t even noticed she was gone, but he soon spotted Steve and Phil’s crow as well. Oh, poor Tommy he must’ve been lonely.

“Hey…” Wilbur sat down, but Tommy stayed fast asleep. “Hey Toms, I’m really sorry for leaving you alone for so long. It was a dick movie. I know, but if you’d give me another chance…”

Tommy didn’t respond, so Wilbur tried again fumbling his words even more. “Listen, I know… I know that you’re upset. I’d be upset too but talk to me. Talk to me just like we did when we were kids when we’d tell each other everything and we couldn’t stay angry at each other. Just… Talk to me.”

Tommy didn’t respond and Wilbur reached out to grab his hand. It was fine Wilbur was willing to wait, and he would’ve if he hadn’t felt how cold Tommy’s hand was. Wilbur’s own heart was hammering as he turned Tommy over, his hands fluttering around his brother’s body in search of a pulse. He reached for his neck, his arm, his knee but there was nothing, there was nothing.

Wilbur screamed.

---

Phil was sleeping when Wilbur called, not even registering that he was getting a phone call. He could hear Techno grumbling from the other side of the room and chuckled before he grabbed the phone.

“Hello?” He asked. “Wil? What’s wrong?”

There was a watery sob and Phil’s heart dropped. “Phil? Ph-il, Dad I don’t know what to do! Dad!”

“Wil? Wil, son what’s wrong.” Phil had sat up, quickly kicking the sheets off him. Techno followed, his face laced with concern. “Breathe Wil, you need to breathe.”

“Dad, Tommy’s not responding, Tommy’s not responding--”

“He’s not picking up his phone?” Phil was starting up the car and he knew that Technoblade was locking the apartment behind them. Phil was panicking even as he tried to keep a level head in the face of Wilbur’s fear. “Do you have any idea where he is Wil?”

“No! NO! NO! He’s not missing dad, Tommy’s not missing!”

Techno had the phone now placing it down on speaker as he pulled up the directions home on his own. “You’re not making any sense Wil…”

“Tommy’s dead! Tommy’s gone.” 

Phil felt like his world had shattered into a million pieces. “... What?”

Technoblade was saying something he had reached out towards Phil, but Phil couldn’t hear a thing he was saying. Did Wilbur… Did Wilbur just say? 

“No.” Phil denied because it just wasn’t possible. It couldn’t be possible. Not when he’d just talked to Tommy last night, not when his son had called him because of a headache, not when Tommy had called him asking him for something like he did when he was small. Tommy couldn’t be dead.

Wilbur’s sobs grew louder and Techno tried his best to talk to him, to whisper soft reassurances and reminders to breathe. Phil had somewhere in the middle of that had pulled over to the side of the road, his hands limp and lifeless over the steering wheel. Like Tommy, some part of his mind whispered. Something about that made Phil lose it and before he knew it tears were spilling out onto his arms.

God, to think he and Techno were planning a fucking family vacation and talking about music festivals, and museums, and football games while his son was dead, that he wasn’t home while Tommy was dying, that he didn’t know how or when Tommy had died. “How?” He asked. “How?”

He needed to know, he had to know but he didn’t know if he wanted to know. Technoblade at one point had grabbed Phil’s arm and was trying to comfort him and Phil wanted to scream, because why was he so calm when Phil was the one who was supposed to be comforting them. “I… I don’t know, dad, I don’t know if I can--”

Wilbur broke out into another round of sobs and Phil knew they all needed to calm down, if only for a moment. “Wilbur? Where are you?”

“Home,” Wilbur managed. “In your room.”

Already that painted a glum picture and Phil refused to let his mind jump towards it. “Okay, what is there around you?”

“Tommy,” Wilbur sobbed. “Sally, Steve, the Crow--”

Phil immediately crumbled, fuck what was he doing, he needed to get there as fast as possible not force his son to observe his dead brother. God, this was all screwed up, “Wil, I need you to call an ambulance--”

“They’ll take him away, I don’t think I can manage that Dad. I--” Wilbur’s voice cracked and Phil could just see his face crumbling. “Please come home, please.”

Phil passed the phone to Techno who continued comforting Wilbur. Phil’s mind was instead left to wander down dark and morbid paths that he never thought it ever would. Was Tommy alone when he died, even worse, was there someone with him? Because Wilbur wasn’t home, and Wilbur didn’t know what happened. He didn’t have any idea if there was anyone who hated Tommy, or if there was anyone Tommy could've gotten into a bad enough fight with that someone could’ve… Phil didn’t know, he didn’t know.

When they pulled into the driveway Phil didn’t hesitate to dial an ambulance, and not a second after he dropped his phone into his seat did Wilbur come bursting out the front door. Wilbur crashed into his arms, a weeping and inconsolable mess. As much as Phil wouldn’t mind crying with Wilbur until the ambulance came he knew he had to see Tommy. “Take me to him, Wilbur, please.”

Each step up the stairs seemed like a death sentence like every single creak and movement brought him closer to something terrible. He knew it was, he knew where he was going. When he opened the door and saw his son Phil could almost fool himself into thinking Tommy was sleeping. His hair was messy, his eyes were closed, his arm was wound around Wilbur’s plush fish and it seemed like Phil could sit down and he’d wake up. How Phil wanted to call out to Tommy, wanted to hold him, and talk to him, and know that everything was okay.

It was then that Phil’s eyes handed on the orange bottle, and his heart dropped.

---

Despite his general coolness and general uncaring appearance, Technoblade was doing everything he could to not break down crying. He couldn’t do that not when Wilbur was crying, Dad looked ready to cry, and Tommy was dead. Tommy was dead, his brother was dead and was laying in their father’s room and there was nothing he could do about it. There was nothing he did about it. 

Techno couldn’t help but wonder if he could’ve stopped it if one measly thing could’ve stopped all of this and they wouldn’t be gathered here around Tommy’s small, dead body. Wilbur sniffled and Technoblade squeezed his shoulder. Eerily Techno thought that Tommy looked more asleep than dead, but he immediately shut down that train of thought. He couldn’t cry, not yet. 

“Tech…” Wilbur said finally. “Tell me this is a nightmare… please… just tell me that…”

Wilbur didn’t finish his sentence breaking off to stare into space, Technoblade made no move to indulge his brother. “Let’s go downstairs--”

“NO!” Wilbur was suddenly out of Techno’s reach, Phil raised his arms up in alarm. “You can’t do that Tech, I can’t, I can’t leave him alone, I can’t, I can’t--”

Suddenly Wilbur was heaving, his pupils were shuttering, his hands shaking. Phil rushed forwards holding Wilbur in his arms and rubbing soothing circles into his back. Techno remembered doing that once for Tommy. He forgot what exactly caused it only that Tommy had burst into his room one night teary-eyed and sobbing, it took him holding Tommy and lifting him up into his arms for his brother to calm. Tommy didn’t leave his room that night and later Technoblade had figured it was because he’d lost Henry and didn’t think much of it. 

Tommy had stopped looking soon after and they’d all assumed he didn’t need the cow anymore. Now though seeing how tight Tommy’s arms were around Sally and how he’d even brought Steve with him, Techno wondered if he should’ve looked harder what he could’ve done more. 

There was a knock at the door and his gut clenched, he saw the flashing lights of the ambulance and knew what was happening.

Phil turned to him, his face mournful and Techno could do nothing more than walk to the door. A lady was standing there with her white hair pulled under a green hat and Technoblade didn’t hesitate to lead her and the rest of the people up into the bedroom. Wilbur had tensed when they walked in, his eyes focused and wary. Techno dreaded the moment they’d have to let them take Tommy away.

“Can you tell me what happened here?” She asked, reaching down to check Tommy’s pulse. It took only a few seconds but she pulled away, her eyes darting around the room. Phil gave her the rundown, repeating what he learned from Wilbur’s call and Wilbur through multiple pauses told her how he’d found Tommy. Techno could do nothing, he could only stare. Don’t cry, don’t cry.

“I…” Phil reached into his pocket pulling out a prescription bottle. “I found this.”

Something in Technoblade froze at that implication that the half-empty bottle forced him to make. Never, ever in a million years would Technoblade have ever thought to put the words Tommy and suicide together. No, no that would make more sense with Wilbur, their emo and slightly depressed older brother, not Tommy. Never Tommy.

Everything in Technoblade rejected the possibility, everything in him wanted to push it away, wanted to make it a lie, wanted to forget it. But he couldn’t, he couldn’t. Don’t cry, don’t cry.

So, he did the next best thing. He left. Technoblade found himself fleeing the room, practically running out, not bothering to reach for Wilbur or tell Phil. He needed to get out of there, he-- Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry. When he closed his bedroom door behind him Techno found himself using it for support as he staggered down to the ground. Despite everything, two things were clear: Tommy was dead, and Tommy had killed himself.

Don’t cry, He scolded himself, don’t cry. Technoblade’s earliest memory of Tommy was when he was only four years old, Tommy was only a newborn. He’d climbed onto the crib, too short to look inside otherwise, and then he’d just stared at the kid. He didn’t remember what he was thinking, only that somehow Tommy had grabbed onto his sleeve and just started gnawing on it like a little rat. Technoblade remembered looking down on his baby brother’s chubby little face and promising that he’d protect him.

Look where that got you now, he thought bitterly, look at what happened.

Through the paneling of his door Technoblade heard Wilbur’s confused voice and felt the footsteps walk up the stairs, they were careful and heavy. Wilbur said something and then Phil said something and then Wilbur started yelling. “No! No! You can’t! Phil, Dad, please-- Tommy-- don’t let them take Tommy--”

Don’t cry, don’t cry. Wilbur wailed and the floor shook as Wilbur tried to kick his way out of Phil’s arms, Techno curled up covering his ears and breathing hard. Don’t cry, don’t cry. “Phil-- Phil-- Please!” Don’t cry, don’t cry. It didn’t take long for Wilbur to exhaust himself but that didn’t mean that his sobs had stopped. Technoblade was shaking and he was shaking and he was shaking and he was--

Something yellow caught his attention, all dusty and worn from laying inside his closet. Don’t cry, don’t cry. Technoblade hadn’t even realized his closet was even open in the first place, but when he looked at the yellow thing his heart dropped. It was a flower, a tiny little plush one with little plush leaves and a little plush stem. Don’t cry, don’t cry. Numbly. Techno found himself pulling the plastic tub out of his closet. It was heavy, weighted down with winter clothes and old nick-nacks he couldn’t put elsewhere. Don’t cry, don’t cry. 

Lying there on the floor was Henry and Technoblade could do nothing to stop himself from breaking down.

But you had to go, I know, I know, I know. Like a wave that crashed and melted on the shore. 

Not even the burnouts are out here anymore, and you had to go. I know, I know, I know.

I Know the End

Phoebe Bridgers

It was around 1 in the morning when an ambulance came blaring through Tubbo’s neighborhood. He’d barely been dozing off, his brain too caught up in the earlier morning that when the siren sounded he was no longer tired. He’d stood at his window a long time and looked out onto the empty streets. Tubbo’s parents worked at night but were always there in the mornings. So he knew that if he stayed up or turned the lights on he wouldn’t bother anyone, still, he’d rather not be lonely right now.

He plucked his phone from its charger and pulled up Discord. “Hello?”

“Mmm?” was Ranboo’s sleepy mumble. Tubbo could see that his friend was also looking out the window and waved. Ranboo snorted.

“Wanna come over?” He asked. “Can’t sleep anymore.”

“Sure, I’ll just ask my parents.” 

Tubbo hummed, dropping the call and stretching his arms. His back cracked and he let out a sigh. Maybe they should make Tommy some muffins or something and bring them tomorrow to apologize. This entire month was just… challenging. Even if Tommy was upset or even if he was straight-up angry he’d never, ever ghosted them. Without fail, even if they’d had a fight he’d be at lunch with a sandwich in hand and he’d be waiting for them. 

This was the first time Tubbo had to deal with Tommy not talking to them, it didn’t matter if they showed up at his house, if they waited after practice, or if they tried cornering him in the halls, nothing they did could make him tell them what was wrong. Tommy would just brush it off and disappear. They’d tried talking to people who had classes with him, tried to see if he acted any different or said anything. No matter what he did Tubbo never got an answer.

Today… Yesterday now he guessed, when they’d walked to the house and found the door open and Tommy wasn’t waking up, something had just snapped and he wanted nothing more and to keep Tommy where he was until he fucking talked to them. Tubbo knew better than to try that though, a cornered Tommy was more stubborn than normal Tommy, and Tubbo didn’t want to stress their friendship more than it already was. 

Ranboo was even more dismayed by the sudden shift and told Tubbo about how Tommy had just slumped into his arms and how dull his face was. If Tommy was ignoring Tubbo, he was pretending Ranboo didn’t exist. So, when Tommy brought in Quackity, Ranboo had lost it and dragged Tubbo out of the house before he caused a scene. It was frustrating that Tommy wouldn’t talk to them but seemed just fine talking to someone he’d met the other day.

Tubbo knew that maybe their reaction was over the top and maybe they should’ve kept it together a little better, but it happened and they had to fix it. So, his glue of choice was fresh pastries, something he’d learned from Nikki. Both Tommy and Wilbur were weak in the face of sweets.

“Hello?” Tubbo let Ranboo in and they sat down for a moment.

“Do you think Tommy’ll talk to us today?” He asked.

Ranboo sighed, “Even if he doesn’t we still have to try, don’t we? I don’t like how we left things off.”

“Neither do I, Boo. Neither do I.”

So the two of them got to work. Tubbo spooned the flour, the salt, and the baking powder into one bowl while Ranboo mixed the milk, eggs, butter, and sugar together. The two of them stayed silent; the only noise other than mixing was the calming and chaotic tones of Lemon Demon that Ranboo had playing. He couldn’t decide between chocolate and blueberries so he decided to do both, more is less and all that jazz.

When the muffins were in the oven, all they could do was sit down. Tubbo wondered what they’d say to Tommy, and what his friend would say back. Any kind of ‘Are you okay?’ would be met with a yeah and insisting he was and would not only make him angry but make him clam up. Tommy would never admit anything was wrong if someone forced him to, the only way he would be if he wanted to. So, Tubbo would never let Tommy out of his sight, he’d make sure he was there and when Tommy decided he wanted to talk Tubbo would still be there.

They’d go over in the morning with the muffins as a peace offering and they’d sit there and Tubbo would wait. He’d wait if that was what Tommy needed. By the time they finished, it was 3 AM and they turned on the TV on a random soap opera while they waited for it to be a reasonable time. Maybe they’d apologize, maybe they’d cry, maybe they wouldn’t go to school and just hang out, maybe nothing would change but Tubbo was willing to wait.

“What time is it?” Ranboo asked after a while, his voice heavy with sleep. Tubbo wiggled out of their arm pile and squinted at his phone.

“Quarter to four,’ He mumbled. “Should we go?”

Ranboo hummed. “Yeah, we can catch Tommy if he decides to leave early again.”

When Tubbo had shrugged his coat on and got his stuff ready his phone started ringing. ‘Incoming call from Philza :D’ it read. That was odd, why would Phil be calling him of all people. He wondered if Tommy said something and Phil was calling him but shook his head, if there was a problem Phil would call Wilbur, not Tubbo. It was probably a courtesy call or something. Nothing to worry about. Ranboo raised an eyebrow at him and he answered it, letting it ring a bit out of pure spite.

“Hello?”

Phil’s voice rang out sounding tired. “Good morning Tubbo. Mate, I’m sorry about calling this early.”

“It’s no problem, I was awake anyway.” Ranboo hovered, his eyes darting worriedly. “I was making muffins for Tommy.”

Phil hesitated. “Yeah… I-- There’s something I need to talk to you about Tubbo.”

Tubbo hummed waiting. His foot was tapping against the wood floor, something about Phil’s tone was just off and if Tubbo didn’t know any better he’d think he had been crying. It was probably because Phil never called him, that was probably just tripping him up, making him think things. “Yeah?”

“I… Tommy…” Phil took a deep, shuddering breath in and Tubbo realized he was right. Phil was crying and Tubbo had no idea why. “Tommy’s dead.”

“What?” Tubbo’s voice cracked and his hands shook. Phil was saying other things but Tubbo couldn’t hear him. He dimly noticed dropping the phone before he slid down to the floor. Ranboo was saying something, talking to him and when that didn’t work he took the phone. Tubbo couldn’t find it in himself to care that it was probably rude to just leave the conversation off like that, to let Ranboo yell at Phil while he sat numbly on the floor. He didn’t care.

The muffins stood tauntingly on the counter and Tubbo could only stare at them.

---

“Mom I'm visiting a friend!” Quackity called, slipping his backpack off of his shoulders, leaving it next to the stairs. He could smell his mom cooking in the kitchen, even if he insisted that he could cook for himself she was stubborn enough to do it herself.

“Which friend?” She asked, peeking out at him. “The tall, angry cachorro?”

Quackity could only imagine Tommy’s reaction at being called an angry puppy, even though it was affectionate. He’d probably pretend to be angry but he’d be okay with it. Tommy was a good kid, a little prickly around the edges, but a good kid once you got around them. “That’s the one.”

“You said he broke his leg, bring him some soup so he can feel better.” His mother said, moving to find the Tupperware.

It was good that Quackity had expected this would happen. “Will he even like it?” He teased.

“Everyone likes my Caldo de Pollo, it will make him feel better!” It was a losing battle so it was best that he just took the soup. They chatted for a little while and his mother congratulated him about his manager position. It was exciting being able to say that he was the manager for Soot House, god, he was excited to tell Tommy about it. If it wasn’t for Tommy… he might not have gotten there in time and who knows what could’ve happened.

“I’ll make sure he gets the soup,” He promised and rushed to the car before his mom could add sweets to the already large pile of food. Something he’d noticed yesterday was how critical Tommy was of himself, especially when it came to his soccer performance. It had taken some convincing to get Tommy home, and even then his face never once relaxed. 

Maybe the food was a good thing, he could use it to distract Tommy until he could find a way to properly talk to him. Quackity knew they weren’t close; he'd only known the kid for a few days, but that didn’t mean he didn’t care about him. He’d be damned though if he let the kid suffer without trying to help, his mom had raised him better than that.

Send to: TommyInnit

I’m on my way over!

>:)

I’ve got the goods!

He’d snapped a quick photo of the pile of food his mom had given him and sent it. Tommy was probably still asleep, if the kid was awake he would’ve instantly responded. That was good because that meant he was getting rest, and that would give him time to introduce himself to Tommy’s brothers and his dad. It would probably be best to tell them his concerns before he acted on them.

Plus, the kid really seemed to love them. Anything they’d say would probably be taken much better than what he'd say. Plus, if he played his card right he could probably find a way to sneak Tommy into practice even if the kid might not be able to play. When Quackity rounded Tommy’s street he was a little surprised to find the driveway filled with three different cars. 

If he remembered correctly Tommy had two brothers and his father, plus he recognized one of the cars from one of the friends from yesterday. The whole family was home, that was good, Tommy didn’t deserve to feel lonely while he was recovering. The kid had told Quackity that his family had been busy lately, he’d tried playing it off like he didn’t care but Quackity could see the sadness in his eyes. 

It was good that they were home, the more people the easier it would be to finish all the food he’d brought. He knocked.

The door opened and a tall blonde man looked down at him, Phil, if he remembered the picture Tommy had shown him correctly. “Hi! Mr. Watson? I’m a friend of Tommy’s, I’m the one who brought him home yesterday after his football accident? Is he doing all right?”

Mr. Watson didn’t say anything, his face frozen and Quackity soon felt very nervous. Had he said something wrong? “Uh… I’ve brought food and stuff!”

“Quackity?” Someone behind Mr. Watson asked.

Quackity gaped. “Wilbur? Oh fuck man, I thought you looked familiar! You were in that picture Tommy showed me!”

Frankly, Wilbur looked like shit. His hair was limp, his eyes were red-rimmed, and his clothes were rumpled. Wilbur looked miserable, like a fluffy puppy left alone in the rain, in his arms he was holding what looked like a dusty cow. Quackity had no idea what that was about but he wasn’t about to say anything. The soup was starting to get really heavy. “You know Tommy?”

“Of course I do man! I brought him home yesterday after he got hurt, I was gonna stay but he told me to go to your interview.” Wilbur’s face pinched at that and Quackity hurried on. “How is the kid? Any better?”

Mr. Watson had his phone out and his eyes were scanning rapidly across the screen and if Quackity remembered correctly the man worked in business so it made sense that he probably got a lot of emails. Tommy’s other brother, the one with pink hair, was curled up in an armchair with his head in his knees, and Tommy's two friends were sitting on the couch.

The mood in the room was upset, depressed, Quackity suddenly realized. Like Wilbur everyone's eyes were rimmed red, the kid wearing a green button-down was still crying. Bile rose in Quackity’s throat, something was terribly wrong.

“Quackity…” Wilbur was the one who started talking. Mr. Watson had sat down in the dining room, his shoulders were shaking. “Tommy… I don’t know how to tell you this.”

“Just spit it out man,” Quackity’s hands were shaking. “All this hesitating is makin’ me nervous.”

Wilbur didn’t look at him, just tightened his grip around the dusty cow. “... Tommy’s gone Quackity, he… he killed himself.”

The Tupperware slipped out of Quackity’s hands and he felt the hot liquid seep into his shoes. He didn’t care, he couldn’t care. This was fucking impossible, some sort of stupid nightmare. “What?”

“Quackity--”

“He-- what? He can’t be dead, I just saw him yesterday,” His eyes darted, from Wilbur to Phil to Tubbo to Ranboo. Nothing, nothing, just sadness, just mourning. No, No, No, No--

“You sure?” He had asked. Quackity wasn’t sure he should go, something about Tommy in that moment had made him reluctant to. The kid turned to him with a smile on his face, his face was reassuring and cocky in the way that had made Quackity fond of him in the first place.

“Of course man, do I look like a liar?” Tommy had told him. Quackity had smiled and left him.

Tommy had been lying, he realized. Oh, God.

“Okay, okay. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Course… good night.”

Tommy had died, Tommy is dead. Quackity fled leaving the soup on the floor and slammed his door shut behind him. He sobbed and remembered the boy who sat outside during lunch, and the boy who he could’ve and should’ve helped.

The message he sent would never get read, and Tommy would never get to eat the soup Quackity had promised him.