Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Look, Tommy wasn’t an idiot, alright? He knew that parents weren’t supposed to hit their kids if they so simply breathed in the wrong way. Hell, if he caught any sort of wind that Tubbo’s or even Ranboo’s parents treated them the way Tommy’s treated him, he’d kill them all, no hesitation. But it was different for Tommy. He was loud, annoying, and took up more space than he was worth. Tommy deserved it. Tommy deserved to be hit, belittled, mocked, and pained for his very existence. He deserved it, because he was worthless.

So why, pray tell, was Tommy sitting in an airplane seat over the middle of the Atlantic Ocean, choking down sobs from the amount of pain he was in?

He couldn’t remember.

No, he could, he could, he couldn’t, he could, he couldn’t, he shouldn’t, he had to, he could.

They tried to kill him, hadn’t they?

No, they hadn’t. They wouldn’t. They would. They did.

No?

Yes?

Tommy’s head hurt too much to make sense of it.

He’d been streaming, in a VC with Wilbur, Tubbo, Jack, and Dream, relishing in being home alone and allowed to be as loud as he wanted to, when he heard the front door slam open. He had immediately quieted, eyes going wide and limbs frozen as he heard the telltale sounds of his father stumbling drunk up the stairs of their flat. Knowing what was coming his way, Tommy had ended stream and exited Discord as fast as possible, leaving behind thousands of confused and concerned fans and friends.

He’d expected it to be a routine beating, like the kind he was subjected to nearly every day, where he’d get his ass kicked but they wouldn’t touch his face, and he’d pick himself up and carry on armed with Tylenol and one of the ice packs he’d sneak down and steal.

Tommy wasn’t allowed in the kitchen after all.

No, food was a privilege, the empty coke cans and biscuit breaks he took on stream a farce, to make people believe that he was normal, worthy of love. Food was a privilege, and it was not one Tommy earned often.

And the past few hours had not been routine.

A knife.

He’d had a knife, didn’t he?

He’d kicked in his ribs, Tommy was sure they were broken, and then he’d slashed up his chest, thankfully not stabbing him. But he’d come close.

His mom had stopped him. His mom stuck to the routine. His dad wanted to kill him, but his mom stuck to the routine and then Tommy had packed a backpack, grabbed his passport, and ran, ran, ran all the way to the airport because his dad knew the addresses of all his friends in the same fucking country as him and would undoubtedly look there first.

Holy fuck, they were going to hate him.

Wilbur, Tubbo, Phil, Jack, Freddie, Eryn, maybe even George and Vik were going to hate him, hate that they received a call from his perfectly composed father asking if Thomas had contacted them.

And Tommy was bleeding and bruised under a black sweatshirt on his way to God knows where.

Chapter Text

When the plane landed in… Tommy spun around to check the small television screen, the screen that said London Heathrow Airport to… Orlando International Airport? So Tommy was in Florida. Great. He was alone in a new fucking country, in a random ass state, on the verge of passing out from blood loss. Fucking fantastic.

He didn’t even have a way to get in contact with anyone. His phone plan didn’t include America.

He supposed he could connect to the airport wifi, see if there was a drugstore around somewhere so he could at least patch himself up a little.

Once he’d done that, he winced at the immediate influx of concerned discord messages he’d received. Ah, it looked like Tubbo had @ed everyone in the SMP discord out of concern. Just great for Tommy. His stroke of luck continued when he immediately received a DM from Wilbur, asking him to VC. He hadn’t had time to set his discord to offline mode. Honestly, Wilbur had probably been watching his status like a hawk, which was touching, but Tommy didn’t really want to deal with the huge group call Will was in. Wilbur, Tubbo, Phil, Techno, Ranboo, Jack, Dream. That was so many people.

From Sandeater:
Tommy, I can see your discord status.

From Sandeater:
Join the call.

From Sandeater:
Toms please, we’re all worried about you.

Tommy winced. He didn’t mean to worry anyone, he could handle the situation on his own.

No, he couldn’t. His dad tried to kill him and he flew twelve hours across an ocean. He was decidedly not handling anything.

He joined the call.

“Tommy!” Came Wilbur’s loud voice, with the same inflection he often used, but with an obvious lilt of concern behind it.

“Hi Will.” God, he sounded wrecked.

“Tommy, are you ok?” Wilbur asked.

Tommy couldn’t answer. He just slid down against the pillar he was leaning against.

“Where are you, Bossman? Your dad called-" Tubbo tried before he was cut off by the choked breath/sob that came from Tommy’s line at the mention of his father. A chorus of voices was calling out to him through the phone’s grainy speaker but Tommy couldn’t move, he couldn’t breathe, his chest hurt, his head hurt, everything hurt, and oh my god he’d almost died, his father tried to kill him and here was with a VC full of concerned people who wanted to help and he couldn’t talk, he couldn’t breathe and he was dying, he was going to die, his father did kill him it was just delayed and there was a hand on his shoulder who was touching him why was there a hand on him and why the fuck was GeorgeNotFound squatting in front of a mid panic attack TommyInnit on the floor at Gate 39 of the Orlando International Airport?

“Tommy, Tommy, I need you to breathe with me,” the older streamer was saying, but Tommy couldn’t. He couldn’t, couldn’t George see he was already dead? “In for four, hold for four, and then out for four, you can do it, Toms, I believe in you. That’s good, you’re doing so good Tommy.” George reassured the mess of a teen below him as he finally took some stuttering breaths. “Ok Tommy, can you tell me five things that you can see?”

“Um, you, the, the gate 39 sign, um, the terminal desk, the fucking, um, Starbucks, and, and, and, your bag.” Tommy stuttered out.

“That was so good Toms, do you think you can tell me four things you can feel?” George praised him, then continued guiding Tommy through the calming ritual.

“You- your hand, um, my cuts rubbing against my, my, shirt, the floor, and, um, the pillar.” Tommy was getting more air now, this was getting easier.

“That’s fantastic!” George offered, mentally noting the cuts Tommy had mentioned to come back to later, “and what about three things that you can hear?”

“Your voice, my heartbeat, and the fucking airport announcements.”

“Great, good, now two things you can smell?”

“The Starbucks food, and uh, sweat?”

“Wonderful, Tommy, you’re doing great, and how about one thing you can taste?”

“Blood.”

Tommy was breathing somewhat normally at this point and distantly heard the voices emanating from his phone again.

“George? Is that you?” Dream’s voice came. “You’re supposed to be at the airport, Sapnap and I are already on our way to pick you up.”

“I am at the airport, Dream. Tommy’s here too. I think he was on my flight, must have been rows ahead of me though.” George commandeered Tommy’s phone while continuing to rub reassuring circles into Tommy’s hair.

“What the hell is going on here?” Phil demanded, “Where are you and Tommy, George?”

“We’re at the Orlando Airport. I was visiting Dream and Sapnap, I’ve got no clue why Tommy’s here, but he looks like shit. He’s seriously hurt, and I’m pretty sure he had a panic attack. He’s all bloody and bruised, I think he needs a hospital, or a clinic, or something.” George told the call. “Toms, do you think you can talk yet?” he spoke softly to the still crying teen, who quickly shook his head no, then winced and tucked it further into his knees. “That’s fine Tommy, you’re fine. Guys, I don’t know what to do. Tommy, he isn’t OK, and I have no idea how to handle it.”

“You’re doing great, mate. It sounds like Toms isn’t panicking anymore?” Phil confirmed with George.

“Sapnap and I are almost there. We’ll pick both of you up, we have plenty of room and we can’t leave Tommy alone right now. You said he needed a hospital? I know a clinic, there’s a nurse there who owes me a favor and won’t ask questions. We can take Tommy there.” Dream offered.

“Ok. Ok. Ok. We have a plan, but we still don’t know what’s going on. What happened to him?” Ranboo asked.

No one could respond.

George wrapped Tommy’s hand in his own and grabbed the teen’s backpack, slinging it over his shoulder. They walked, George half pulling the disoriented kid towards the baggage claim. Tommy kept his head down, embarrassed about having panicked in front of George and the rest of the call. George had commandeered Tommy’s phone, taking his place in the discord call. For that he was grateful, considering it felt like any and all words were stuck in his throat. It was really a stroke of luck that he’d ended up in a state where he had friends, and even more lucky that George had been on his flight.

Well, lucky?

He was safe now, his parents had no idea where he was.

Wait.

Wilbur was probably going to tell his dad.

Tommy burst forward, grabbing his phone from George’s hand.

“You didn’t tell my parents where I am, right?” He spoke to the call.

“I was going to, Toms, in a few minutes. Why?” Phil told him. Tommy breathed a sigh of relief.

“You can’t tell him anything. Neither of them, he tried to kill me, he’s gonna kill me if you do, please Phil, you can’t, you can’t, you can’t.” Tommy choked out, working himself up into another tearful hyperventilation, which George once again helped him through. Those in the call who had face cams on saw their eyes widen in fear and confusion. Had they heard right? Tommy’s dad tried to kill him? What the hell was going on?

By the time Tommy was fully aware again, George was clutching his own suitcase, and asking Tommy if he had one. Tommy silently shook his head no, words being too much of a challenge once more. George just smiled and took his hand again, leading him outside to a car. Tommy recognized Sapnap, and that had to be Dream, but Tommy couldn’t find it within himself to make any jokes or even really care. He just folded himself into the backseat of the car and tucked his legs up to his still aching chest, ignoring the concerned glances Sapnap and Dream were both sending his way. George, after hugging his friends and loading his suitcase in Dream’s trunk, sat in the backseat with Tommy and took his hand again, reassuring the boy that he wasn’t alone.

Dream took off towards the clinic.

Chapter Text

The hospital visit passed in a blur for Tommy, but the Dream Team would never forget the sight of his chest when Tommy was finally persuaded to take off his sweatshirt. The bruising was awful, as the x-rays would reveal 4 of his ribs had fractured and another two had fully broken, but the worst part was the scratches. There were scars, first of all, from cuts long healed, but then there were deep slashes all over his torso and shoulders, some still bleeding at least twelve hours later. Tommy was sporting a bandage wrapped around his head to prevent an infection in the bleeding wound where his head had slammed against the floor, and his chest and arms were so covered in gauze he could have been mistaken for a mummy. He had braces around his right knee and left ankle, and was leaning on Dream, the only one tall enough to fully support him. Knife wounds? Dream was so confused. How had Tommy’s chest been slashed up by a knife? Why couldn’t he tell his parents? Why was he in America?

They went through the McDonald’s drive-through, ordering chicken nuggets for Tommy, who wasn’t fully present again. The three adults made sure to talk in low tones to not fuck over Tommy’s head even more than it already was.

“How do we get him to tell us, or even just someone, what happened?” Sapnap asked.

“Forget that, how do we get him to talk at all? He’s barely present right now.” George reminded him.

“We can’t push him if he doesn’t open up. Clearly, he’s been through some shit, and he needs us to be there for him in a way we haven’t been.” Dream declared, glancing at Tommy through his rearview mirror.

“It seems like this has been happening for a while. I mean you both saw the scars. How has nobody noticed anything before today? I’ve met Tommy in person before, and haven’t Phil, Wilbur, Tubbo, and Jack too? Niki and Fundy as well. I’ve fucking met his dad, he seemed like a perfectly pleasant person.” said George, biting his lip.

“If the people doing it to you don’t want anyone to know, then you go to every measure you can to make sure no one finds out. He probably only ran because his dad tried to kill him this time.” Sapnap said from the passenger seat, pointedly staring out the window and away from Dream and George. The other two cringed, knowing Tommy’s situation probably reminded Sapnap too much of his own childhood.

The rest of the ride back to Dream and Sapnap’s house was silent.

When they got back to the home, George once again took Tommy’s hand while Dream supported his weight. Sapnap grabbed George’s suitcase as well as the food and the four friends got situated at the kitchen table.

Tommy tilted his head in confusion when the container of nuggets was placed in front of him. He’d been so unforgivably bad. He ran away from the country and now he was bothering Sapnap, George, and Dream when the trio finally got to see each other. There was no way he deserved food, despite the horrible ache in his stomach. It’d been what, four? five? days since he’d last eaten and even that had just been a handful of cashews his mother had slammed onto his desk.

“You should eat something, Tommy. It’ll make you feel better.” Dream said gently through a mouthful of Big Mac.

“But I’m not allowed,” said Tommy softly, making all the adults pause in their chewing and stare at him. Tommy shifted uncomfortably, then recited “Food is a privilege, and it’s one I haven’t earned.”

Dream’s heart broke even more for the teen in front of him, at the implications of what the kid, one of his kids, had been through.

“Tommy,” he said seriously, “No one should ever keep food from you, and if they do, you tell me, or you tell Will, or Phil or any of the adults and we’ll get you sorted. When you’re in my house, you eat as much as you want.”

Tommy bit his lip and looked down at the food in front of him, then looked back up at Dream, who nodded and smiled despite how much his heart hurt. Slowly, horrifyingly slowly, Tommy took a small bite out of a single nugget. The others at the table went back to their own food hoping to make it a more comfortable atmosphere. Tommy only ate three nuggets before he felt stuffed beyond the likes of what he’d ever felt before. He stared down at the rest of the food below him trying desperately to hold back the tears welling up in his eyes and forcefully ignored the three identical stares that were on him.

He pushed the chicken nuggets away, despite every instinct that screamed at him, saying he didn’t know when he’d next be allowed access to food.

Despite the concern in his eyes, Dream just smiled again and told Tommy it was fine.

“Well,” Tommy said, standing up and ignoring the pain in his injured legs, “Thanks for everything guys, but I should really be getting out of your hair now.” He began hobbling towards the corner of his room where his backpack had been deposited.

“Tommy, if you think we’re letting you leave after all of this, you’re an idiot,” Sapnap said, scoffing.

“I don’t know what I would have done if I hadn’t found you in the airport and you’d been all alone,” George added, nodding so hard he was reminiscent of a bobblehead.

“I have plenty of room here, Toms, and I think any of us would prefer you come to one of the adults when you’re having a problem. Especially one as serious as this seems to be. So why don’t we move to the couch, and you can stick your legs up. You’ll be a lot more comfortable, and then, if you’re feeling up to it, maybe you could clue us in on what’s happened?” Dream offered.

“It doesn’t have to be all of us either. It can be just Dream, or me, or George, or you can even call Wilbur, Phil, Techno, maybe Jack, whoever you feel the best telling.” Sapnap said, reminded of his own experience where he’d only been willing to talk to Dream’s mom at first, not wanting his friend to think less of him. Dream’s eyes broke from Tommy for a second to shoot Sapnap a reassuring glance.

Tommy was touched by the blatant display of affection, insecurities shoved beneath the surface for the moment. The Dream Team was looking at him with genuine concern, something he hadn’t been on the receiving end of in a very long time. He sat for a second in how good it felt to be cared about, before nodding and mutely following Dream and Sapnap to the living room. Dream helped him get his feet up, and George handed him an ice pack, which he gratefully put on his still aching ribs. Dream started to rub comforting circles into his head, playing with his hair and helping him relax. After a few minutes, Tommy took a deep breath and began to speak.

“My parents have always been a little more violent than your typical guardians, I think? But you know, I’m not exactly the easiest kid to deal with, and I guess when I was younger, beating lessons into me worked, so they just stuck with it,” Tommy sniffed and looked down. “Along the way it became fun for them. I’m my father’s punching bag when he’s angry or drunk, and my mother has someone to hit and scream at when she’s frustrated. It might be a bit of a fucked system, but it works, and I learned how to hide the pain and shit. They never go for my face, so with some good painkillers, I’m fine.” His hands shook with the weight of what he was admitting, and then he remembered another issue. “And uh, you seem concerned about the food thing, but really, it’s fine. Food is a privilege, a reward, for when I’m good. Like when I pay a bill early instead of on time. And I don’t mind the hunger, it’s a good reminder of what to do to win their favor. It’s a little abnormal, but I still got water, and I got enough to live. It’s not like I’m starving or anything, I just know how to go a while without food.” Tommy laughed a little, hating the horror that was displayed on his friend’s, not to mention his idol’s faces. “But uh, they broke the system last time. Hit Thomas, but don’t go for the face. Make him bleed, but only with your hands. He had a knife. He tried to kill me. So I ran. I grabbed my backpack and my passport and I got on the first flight I found on the app out of the country, because he knows all my friend’s addresses in England and that’s the first place he’d look. Tubbo even said my dad called him.” Tommy had been speaking very methodically, lacking in emotion, almost detaching himself from his words up until this point. He looked up at Dream with shining tears in his eyes. “Dream, my dad tried to kill me. He tried to kill me and I don’t know what to do anymore.”

Tommy sobbed and buried himself in Dream’s chest, shaking as the older man wrapped his arms around him in the first hug Tommy had gotten since god knows when.

George and Sapnap wrapped their arms around the pair, all three of them trying to provide what minimal comfort they could to the sobbing teen who had suffered far too much for anyone, let alone someone his age. Tommy just cried and shook in their embrace, until eventually his breathing evened out and he fell asleep, finally safe in the arms of friends.

Dream hoisted the kid up and took him to one of the guest rooms, pulling back the covers and practically tucking him into the bed. He lingered for a moment, cursing how young Tommy looked. As much as he liked to loudly deny it on stream, he really was a child. A child who had been through hell.

But hopefully, with the help of his friends, Tommy would be able to drag himself out.

He’d always been so stubborn.

Dream went back to the living room.

“It’s so much worse than I imagined. He thinks he deserves it,” George murmured and Dream couldn’t even be put at ease by the fact that his other best friend was finally here in person and that the Dream Team was all together. None of them could, all too filled with concern for Tommy.

“I used to think I did too. He’s gonna need a lot of support, but he’ll get through it. One thing’s for sure, we are not letting him go back to that house.” Sapnap angrily declared.

“I can’t believe no one knew. I make it a point to make sure the minors are safe, I’ve spoken to Tommy’s parents before, and so many people met them. We really fucked up with this one here,” Dream said.

“Don’t beat yourself up. Tommy didn’t want anyone to know, and trust me, having people there to distract him definitely helped. Dream, when I was… well, you know what happened, getting on a call and talking to you was the best part of my day. I didn’t have to care about my dad while I played with you. I bet Tommy feels the same about everyone on the SMP.” Sapnap reminded him, draping an arm around Dream’s shoulder. The action was mirrored by George.

“We should tell everyone who was in that call what’s going on. Not what Tommy just said, because we have to ask Tommy who he’s comfortable telling, but let them know he’s safe and as ok as he can be, maybe let them know about his injuries.” George said quietly.

Dream pulled out his phone and grabbed Phil, Wilbur, Techno, Tubbo, Ranboo, and Jack’s contacts, adding George and Sapnap to the chat for good measure.

From Mean Green Minecraft Machine:
Sapnap and I picked up Tommy from the airport along with George and took him to a clinic. He had two broken ribs and four fractured, along with several lacerations all over his arms and torso that were inflicted with a knife. His right knee and left ankle are both sprained, and he hit his head hard enough to bleed, but thankfully no concussion. He did tell us more specifics about what happened, but he fell asleep before we could ask permission to share that with you all, so we’ll ask in the morning or see if he wants to tell you himself. As you all probably figured out, his house was not a safe place for him to be, but we have him now and he’s safe. Thanks, everyone for all your support, Tommy definitely needs us to be there for him right now :)

From Crow Father:
Good on you mates, glad to hear he’s safe. Let him know that there’s no pressure on him and we’re all still his friends no matter what.

From Sandeater:
Thanks, Dream. Keep us updated. Even if he doesn’t want to tell us anything, could you tell him I love him and I want to talk to him as soon as he feels ready?

From Bacon and Eggs:
Give my well wishes to the kid.

From Bee Boi:
Tell Tommy I hope he’s ok!! Thanks for keeping him safe Dream George Sapnap :)

From Oreo the Beloved:
That’s rough. I won’t repeat everyone else, but the sentiment is there

From Number 2 George Simp:
All my love and well wishes to Tommy.

Bee Boi renamed the chat Tommy’s Support Club

Dream let a small smile slip through as he looked down at the messages. Sapnap pulled up Netflix, and put on something Dream didn’t recognize. Slowly, he fell asleep, surrounded by his two best friends, Tommy safe in a bedroom upstairs and far from hands that longed to hurt him.

Chapter Text

Tommy woke up in an unfamiliar room after jolting awake from a not-so-pleasant dream about his parents. He sat up too quickly, wincing at the pain he felt in his mutilated ribs. His pocket buzzed, and he realized what had woken him up as his phone rang. Not bothering to read the caller ID, Tommy picked up the call.

“Hello?” He asked.

“Thomas.” His Dad’s curt voice spoke. Tommy froze.

“Dad?” He managed to choke out.

“Thomas, where the hell are you?” his father said, tension present in every word.

“I, um, I’m, fuck,” Tommy couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t think.

“Use your fucking words!” Tommy was crying now, he sounded pathetic, but he couldn’t pull himself together, terrified of the man on the other end of the phone.

Dream woke up to the sound of panicked whimpering echoing through the house. His eyes snapped open and he hurriedly pushed Sapnap and George’s arms off of him and dashed upstairs to the room he’d put Tommy in earlier. Opening the door, he found Tommy on the floor, back pressed to the wall, panicking as the sound of shouting came from his phone. Sapnap and George had followed him upstairs, and George took the phone away from Tommy and stepped out into the hall to speak with whoever was on the phone. Dream had some guesses, considering the state Tommy was in.

“Ok Toms, let’s breathe together. I’m gonna put your hand on my chest, so you can feel it and you just copy my motions.” Dream said as he sat down in front of the kid. Tommy just stared up at Dream, chest rising irregularly. Dream grabbed Tommy’s hands and put the right one on his chest, keeping the left one firmly within his own hand. It took a few minutes, but eventually, Tommy’s breath evened out and Dream was left with a trembling teen in the corner of the room. His eyes weren’t focused on Dream through, rather something over his shoulder. A quick glance told the older what it was.

“Sir, I’m going to ask you one more time to stop threatening your son as well as me and my friends,” George was saying into the phone, far angrier than Dream had ever seen him. Tommy curled into himself, in a position that couldn’t be comfortable with his ribs and knee. Sapnap’s eyes widened as he realized what was happening, and he quickly ran over and pulled George into a bedroom, getting the conversation out of Tommy’s earshot.

“How do you feel, Toms?” Dream asked softly.

“Like shit, big man,” Tommy whispered back, making the older man smile softly at the familiar humor.

“Yeah, picking up a call from your father who tried to kill you yesterday will do that, kid.” Dream said, causing Tommy to look away.

“M not a kid.” Tommy huffed, crossing his arms, then wincing and immediately uncrossing them.

“Let’s go downstairs and get you some ice? And then maybe we could call Wilbur? He’s really worried, wanted to speak to you as soon as possible.” Dream offered. Tommy nodded, and the older man helped him up and toward the stairs before stopping and saying, “It’ll be easier if you just stay upstairs, if we’re gonna call him from my setup. I’ll run down and get you some ice.”

Tommy limped down the hallway to Dream’s bedroom where his setup was. It was a fairly simple room, with a bed and bookshelf in the corner with some posters as well as Dream’s YouTube play buttons on the wall. Most of one of the walls was occupied with Dream’s PC, and once Tommy had sat down in the man’s chair, he dashed downstairs, before coming back with what had to be at least 12 ice packs.

“Jesus Christ man, don’t you think that’s a little much?” Tommy laughed. Dream just smiled and started covering the teen in ice. Once he was satisfied, he booted up his PC and Discord, glad to see that Wilbur was active. He disconnected his headphones so that both of them would be able to hear Will. After hitting the call button, he went and sat down on his bed, which would be in the back of the frame. He didn’t mind face revealing to the man at this point. Wilbur picked up almost immediately.

“Tommy.” Wilbur breathed out through the speakers, his eyes clearly tracing over Tommy’s visible injuries and ice packs.

“Hi Will,” Tommy replied quietly.

“Christ, Toms, I’ve been so worried. Are you ok? How are you feeling? How much pain are you in? What the hell happened?” Wilbur asked.

“Whoa, Will, calm down. I’m ok now, Big D’s been taking good care of me.” Tommy tried to reassure his pseudo older brother. It was uncomfortably forced.

“He’s lying Wilbur, he had another panic attack like 10 minutes ago!” Dream called from his spot on the bed. Tommy turned around and glared at him. Dream shrugged.

“You know, you could have told me, Tommy.” Wilbur sounded so concerned. Tommy hated it, hated that everyone was so worried about him. He didn’t need their fucking pity, he could take a hit.

“You found out eventually anyway,” Tommy replied, far too dull sounding in Wilbur’s opinion.

“Yeah, after you nearly fucking died!” Wilbur cried, before taking a deep breath and steadying himself. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to yell. I just, I don’t know what I’d do without you, Tommy. You’re my best friend, hell, my little brother. You’re the reason I get out of bed on bad days and I hate myself for not helping you. For not figuring out something was wrong.”

Well damn. Tommy was suddenly overwhelmed with a desire to hug Wilbur.

“Dream,” he called, “Get over here. I need you to be my Will stand-in.”

Dream was confused, but dutifully walked over to where Tommy was sitting, only for the teen to wrap his arms around him as tight as he possibly could. Dream was surprised, but quickly returned the hug, grinning at Wilbur, who was crying on the monitor. When Tommy finally separated himself, he turned back to Wilbur.

“That was for you, dickhead. I miss you.” Tommy told his brother.

“I’ll fly you out, Will.” Dream suddenly offered, making both of them freeze. “Hell, I’ll fly anyone out if you want Tommy. Will, Phil, Tubbo, anyone who’ll make you feel better.”

Tommy stared at Dream disbelievingly. No one was that kind.

“How about everyone who was on that call?” The man continued, undeterred. “That was you, me, Sap, and George obviously, but we’re all already here, so Tubbo, Phil, Ranboo, Jack, Wilbur, and Techno? And anyone else you want to see? We have the space if people are willing to share. And it’s summer, so Ranboo shouldn’t have any issues with missing school.”

Tommy still wasn’t speaking, so Wilbur answered.

“Well, I can say that if Tommy wants me there, I’ll be there in a heartbeat.”

Ignoring Wilbur, Tommy addressed Dream. “You’re lying.”

“I’m not lying Toms, I would never lie to you, especially not about something like this.”

“No one’s that nice. And even if you are, I don’t deserve it. I’ll be fine.”

And just when Dream thought his heart couldn’t break for the kid any more than it already had. Will’s expression mirrored his own in the monitor.

“Tommy, listen to me,” he said seriously, for what felt like the twelfth time that night. “You deserve the world kid, and you’ve had it taken from you, so I’ll be damned if you don’t get it back, no matter how much money it costs. I’m getting you all your fucking friends because all of us love you and care about you way more than your shitty excuse for parents did.”

“You’re getting all the hugs, kid. And all the therapy.” Wilbur added.

Tommy slowly processed all of this.

“You’re not joking?” he confirmed. Dream nodded. “Then… I think I’d like that. To see some people.”

Dream and Wilbur both wore matching grins at that.

Chapter Text

The next few days passed in a mix of panic and planning. With Tommy’s permission, Dream had shared the details Tommy had told them on the first night with the Tommy’s Support Club chat, which Tommy was now on. Dream, George, and Sapnap had taken Tommy shopping to grab what he needed since the teen had only come with a backpack he’d grabbed in a panic. They miraculously only ran into a few minor issues. (“We’re buying the giant Minecraft bee plush.” “No way.” “Fuck you, you all live in my house, we’re buying it.”) (The bee’s name was Harold Stiltonsberg The Third.) He wasn’t sure how successful a clothes shopping trip with a millionaire who only wore Walmart clothes, a college student who wore exclusively black hoodies, a recovering hype beast, and a chronically inside teenager would be, but Tommy came out of it with enough clothes to last him a lifetime. He’d had a few more panic attacks as the house figured out what his triggers were, and he still only ate when he had explicit permission from an adult, but Dream, like the mother hen he was proving to be, constantly kept handing snacks to him.

Amidst all of this, they were planning flights out for the support club. After getting confirmation that all of them were coming, including the minors, who had gotten parental permission to travel, Tubbo with Jack, Wilbur, and Phil, and Ranboo with Techno, the plans were set and the crew would be arriving that day. When Dream had told Tommy, he’d relished in the way Tommy’s eyes had lit up and he’d thanked Dream, for everything.

Once the four of them had realized that there was no way all of them would be able to pick up the 6 who were flying in in one car, so Dream was going to pick up the four Brits, who were all flying in together at Tubbo’s mother’s request, and Sapnap was going to pick up Techno and Ranboo, who’d wanted to fly with Techno, while George stayed back and made sure Tommy and the house were ready.

And they were. George had forced Tommy onto the couch with ice when he’d noticed the wincing the teen had been doing periodically throughout the breakfast he’d gotten explicit permission to eat. Tommy was glaring at George, who sat in an armchair across the room, blankly staring back, not looking unlike how he did in Wilbur’s music video. But still, George refused to let Tommy up, and wouldn’t until everyone had arrived.

“I hate you.”

“OK, Tommy.”

“Fuck you.”

“You know you’re in pain.”

Tommy would never admit how amazing it felt that George cared enough to sit and watch him to make sure he didn’t aggravate his injuries further.

Finally, finally, the door swung open. To George’s surprise, Tommy stayed put. George shot a small smile at him, standing up to go greet the new group. Tubbo immediately rushed over to the couch where Tommy sat. For a second, it seemed like Tubbo was going to throw himself into Tommy’s arms, and the younger was grateful when he reconsidered and gently hugged him instead.

“Tommy.” Tubbo breathed.

“Hi, Tubbo,” Tommy replied, grinning into his friend’s shoulder. Tubbo took Tommy’s face in his hands, fingertips delicately tracing the bandage on Tommy’s head. Tubbo carefully repositioned the ice on Tommy’s ribs. “Ugh, you’re gonna mother hen me too, aren’t you?”

“It’s what best friends are for.” Tubbo smiled and draped his arm across Tommy’s shoulder.

Wilbur made his way over next, pulling Tommy to his feet and wrapping him up as tight as he dared. Tommy leaned into the hug, shoving off the ice packs that were already warm anyways.

“Hi Will,” Tommy whispered.

“I’m never fucking letting you out of my sight again, Toms,” Wilbur muttered.

“I missed you,” Tommy confessed. “You didn’t know it cause I didn’t tell you, but talking to you kept me going in that house.”

And it was Wilbur’s turn to experience heartbreak for the kid, cursing himself for not figuring out something was wrong sooner. He would be damned if he ever let Tommy go back to that house again. Hell, he’d adopt the kid to get him away from his parents, though he expected there was a line of people who wanted to.

Greetings continued, Tommy getting hugs, though being far quieter than anyone wanted him to be. Like his first meeting with Dream, Tommy didn’t make any jokes about Ranboo or Technoblade face reveals.

Ranboo made the joke for him.

No one wanted to admit how concerned they were in front of Tommy.

Tommy was just grateful that everyone came, and he took notes on the way each person treated him with their new knowledge about him.

Tubbo was consistently making sure Tommy was comfortable with his injuries, always volunteering to go grab ice when even a flicker of pain crossed his best friend’s face and keeping painkillers in his pockets. He and George often ganged up on Tommy about taking care of the injuries. Wilbur, being the optimal height for the job, supported Tommy whenever he needed to move somewhere, not letting anyone else touch him. Ranboo was constantly doing stupid things to try and get Tommy to make fun of him in the way he’d so often do on stream. Jack always made sure to speak in low tones, always watching the group’s volume, as they were still 10 streamers meeting up for the first time, no matter how traumatized one of them was. Phil had gone full Dadza mode, and was often in the kitchen, making sure all of them were well fed, especially Tommy. Techno, in true Blood God fashion, had taken up the role of protector, always on guard for Tommy. Sapnap, George, and Dream didn’t change, still mother henning him. Tommy swore Dream had infinity enchanted pockets with the number of snacks he would pull out of them at all times. Not that Tommy actually ate them.

Dream could tell Tommy was getting antsy, as he’d been stuck inside, constantly looked after and scrutinized in a way he wasn’t used to. So he pulled Phil aside and made plans.

Chapter Text

The second day after everyone arrived, Dream woke up with a smile on his face. Around the breakfast table, everyone besides Phil was looking at him like a maniac. Tommy was having a good day, Dream was happy to note, not needing constant reassurance that he was allowed to eat after the original permission Wilbur had given to him, and he was talking animatedly with Jack and Ranboo. They were laughing at Wilbur, who was choking on his pancakes. Techno was watching with a small smile on his face. Whether he was smiling at Tommy’s laugh or Wilbur’s pain, Dream didn’t know.

"What’s got you smiling?” George asked, dumping syrup on his pancakes.

“Nothing. Just plans for the day.” Dream replied, still grinning widely. Phil met his eyes knowingly.

“Last time you made plans for the day I had to bail you out of jail,” Sapnap reminded Dream, eyes narrowed.

“Wait, what?” Tubbo interjected.

“I want to hear this story,” Wilbur, who had finally gotten his pancake down, said.

“Ok, first of all, Phil helped with these plans so there is significantly less chance of me getting arrested this time around.” Dream told Sapnap. “But thanks for exposing me.”

“Come on Dream, we want to hear about your criminal past,” smirked Ranboo.

“Yeah Dream, tell us about your wrongdoings!” Tubbo chuckled.

“Now look what you’ve done. The teens want to know about my crimes.” Dream accused Sapnap.

“They should. It’s funny.” Sapnap deadpanned.

“Tell us, Big D.” Dream’s head snapped towards Tommy. It was the first time he’d called anyone Big Anything since George found him at the airport, besides that first call with Wilbur where he’d been faking normality. He was sure he looked like an idiot, standing there looking at Tommy, eyes shining with the pride of a thousand suns, but he knew he had to tell the story now.

“Fine, fine.” Dream put his hands up in mock surrender. “It was probably about six months ago at this point? I don’t know, I have no perception of time. It was after the speedrunning stuff. Anyways, whenever it was, I had been inside for a really long time, because of all the speed running. So I wanted to get out and do something fun. There’s this go-karting place about an hour away, so Sapnap and I went. I’m sure you can see how well this all went. We’re, you know, just a little bit competitive. So um, crash. I don’t know how I did it, but, uh, I broke the go-kart. Which is fine, I was willing to pay for it and everything. The issue is, there was this huge crew of like drunk dudes there too. And because of the crash, they had to close the track to get the cart off of it, and these guys were fucking pissed. So they started coming at me while Sapnap was in the bathroom, and you all know me, I wasn’t gonna let them get away with it, and well, it got a little physical.”

“I walked out of the bathroom to him handcuffed on a police car with 4 other guys,” Sapnap told everyone.

“And he still got coffee before coming to pick me up!” Dream said.

“As he should. Iconic.” Jack responded, fist-bumping Sapnap.

“I’m just imagining Sapnap pulling up to the police station with an iced coffee and a disappointed look with Dream in a holding cell like a mother,” Phil said.

“Dadza and Sapmum!” Tubbo cried, grinning and high-fiving Ranboo.

“Oh my god, I’m too young to be a mother to all you fucking idiots,” Sapnap grumbled.

“Sorry mate, once they start they don’t stop. Welcome to the parents club.” Phil clapped Sapnap on his shoulder.

“All of you act like mothers with your ice packs and your snacks.” Tommy piped up. Everyone turned to look at him.

“Hate to break it to you, Toms, but you are the baby of the group. We’re allowed to be overprotective.” Techno told him.

“I hate this fucking family,” Tommy muttered. Everyone looked at the kid fondly. “Stop awing! I just insulted you all!”

“But you also called us family!” Wilbur reminded him.

Tommy spluttered and opened his mouth to retort in a way that would no doubt be reminiscent of a little brother arguing with an older, but before he could, Dream’s phone rang. After a small conversation with whoever was on the other end, his maniacal grin was back. He turned to the whole group.

“Ok, everyone up! It’s here!” He told their confused faces. Everyone just stared at him.

“You all heard the man! Tubbo, Jack, grab the ice chest! Wilbur, you’re on Tommy duty as usual. George, you know where the sunscreen is, go grab it! Everyone make sure your water bottles are filled and you are wearing deodorant. Ranboo, don’t forget your wallet. I’ve got no fucking clue what we’re doing but I’m not taking any chances.” And Sapnap said he wasn’t a mother.

When the chaotic group had finally pulled themselves together and gotten outside, they were met with the sight of a bus. Inquisitive looks were turned towards Dream.

“What? We don’t all fit in one car and I didn’t want to drive to where we’re going. I’m sure as hell not letting any of you European motherfuckers touch my steering wheel. Plus, I have a bus guy.”

The ride to Dream and Phil’s mystery “Get Tommy Out of the House” day was, as you’d expect with 10 streamers on a bus, incredibly chaotic. Music was blared the entire time, from Roadtrip, to Wilbur’s music, to Lovejoy. Tommy was curled into Dream’s side, and every time the teen laughed, the man could feel it rumble through his chest. After about half an hour of a headache-inducing ride, the bus pulled up outside of Disney World. Dream turned to Tommy.

“I know you like to insist that you’re not a kid, but I figure you’ve never been allowed to be much of a child. I wanted to fix that, and what better place to do that than the happiest place on Earth?” he asked.

“I… that’s… wow. Thank you.” Tommy settled on, a small smile across his face. He wrapped his arms around Dream’s chest in a hug. Phil knowingly met Dream’s eyes from over the blonde mop of hair.

“Let’s go, everyone!” Phil called.

Chapter Text

“Absolutely not.” Tommy declared.

“Tommy-“ Dream started.

“Nope. No. Nah. You said I’m allowed to say no. I’m saying no.” the youngest insisted.

“Toms, you’re still hurt. You absolutely are allowed to say no, we just don’t want you to push yourself when you’re not ready.” Phil told him, standing over the wheelchair they were trying to get Tommy into.

“But Phil! It’s embarrassing!” Tommy whined.

“Better to be embarrassed than in pain.” Wilbur offered.

“I’m fine with pain! I hid the fact that I was being hit every day for years!” Tommy groaned.

“You shouldn’t be! That is not something to be proud of!” Dream scoffed.

“Tommy please? It’ll make us all feel a lot better,” Techno asked.

“Ugh. Fine.” Tommy huffed. Techno smirked. He’d always had that sort of power over Tommy, and it was paying off as the teen sat down in the wheelchair, albeit angrily.

Tommy’s anger though, dripped away as Wilbur wheeled him through the theme park with the group. Dream watched with a smile as his eyes filled with childish wonder while Tubbo and Ranboo ran around him. This, this was what he wanted for the kid.

Despite the wheelchair, Tommy was having an amazing time. He’d never been to a theme park before, which in retrospect was so sad because this was the best place ever. He was still allowed on all the rides he wanted to go on despite the gaggle of overprotective adults that were over his shoulder at all times. He’d screamed with delight on Space Mountain with Jack, gotten horribly wet on Splash Mountain with Tubbo, and taken an absurd amount of photos in front of the castle with Techno and Wilbur (seriously, Phil, you don’t need that many pictures. Dadza moment).

While Tommy and an incredibly disgruntled Techno were crammed into the Dumbo ride, Dream went and got Wilbur’s attention from laughing at Sapnap and George, who were struggling to get Dumbo to fly.

“Oh! Dream!” Wilbur said after turning around.

“Can you come with me? I want to get your opinion on something.” Dream asked the older man.

“Course!” Wilbur made to follow Dream, who led him into the Mad Hatter’s hat shop.

“I want to get Tommy a hat.” Dream admitted. “I think he’s a little self-conscious about the whole injury thing, and I figured we could get a hat to hide the bandage on his head, at least.”

“That’s a really good idea, man. He’ll really appreciate that.” Wilbur cut off Dream’s rambling before the man could get any more anxious.

“Really? Ok… ok! Great! Um, will you help me pick something out?” the younger said hesitantly. Wilbur grinned and nodded, and the two men walked into the shop.

Wilbur watched as Dream carefully perused the line of hat options, while also looking at a different wall himself. Dream was really giving him a run for his overprotective older brother role. Well, Wilbur could always use another pseudo internet brother. If Tommy adopted Dream, Wilbur would too. Dream was laser-focused on finding the perfect hat, though he did pause when he found one with bees on it, putting it aside for Tubbo. Wilbur grabbed a black and white one for Ranboo too. Finally, Dream stopped in front of the perfect hat. It was white, but the mickey ears attached to it were red, and the whole thing was reminiscent of Tommy’s beloved and iconic color block T-shirt. He looked down at it with a soft smile, before gesturing Wilbur over to the embroidery station. They handed over the three hats and let the attendant know which names they wanted on them. Dream’s hands were shaking as he vibrated in excitement, bouncing on his toes. Thankfully there wasn’t a huge line, and it was done fairly quickly. Dream gleefully handed the cashier his card, scowling at Wilbur when the man laughed at him.

“What?” Dream practically whined.

“Nothing! I just think it’s sweet how excited you are!” Wilbur told him.

“Oh.” Dream paused. “Hey, Will? You don’t think I’m like… overstepping, or anything? Tommy’s always been closer with you and Phil than he has with me. He said the only reason he didn’t go to one of you was because his dad knows your addresses. Hell, he didn’t even mean to end up in Florida, it’s not like he sought me out.”

“Dream, Tommy fucking idolizes you. He’s so grateful for everything you’ve done for him, even before all of this stuff came out. If I’m being honest, he’s probably starting to think of you as yet another internet brother. And really, I don’t mind. He needs the largest support system he can possibly get, especially with the legal battles we have ahead. He’s sure as hell not going back to his parent’s house. And if Tommy wants you in it, welcome to the family, little bro.” Wilbur smiled, draping his arm across the younger man’s shoulder.

“God Will, your only child is showing. No sibling in their right mind would ever seriously say little bro.” Dream smirked, taking the bag with the hats now that the cashier had finished.

“These are my SBI plus Dream family dynamic headcanons and I do what I want.” Wilbur huffed as the pair walked out of the shop just in time to see Techno unceremoniously dump Tommy back into his wheelchair. They could see Tommy’s scowl clear as day even from feet away. They jogged back over to where the group was reconvening, a grumbling George trying to fix his clothes from Sapnap induced wrinkles. Tubbo and Jack were terrorizing Ranboo. Phil watched the messy group argue with a fond smile on his face.

“Ok! Minors, close your eyes! Dream has a surprise!” Wilbur called. Tubbo and Ranboo immediately complied, but Tommy bit his lip in nervous apprehension. Right, he didn’t like it when people weren’t straightforward with him. A side effect of the manipulation his parents had subjected him to for 17 years. “Toms, it’s a good surprise, I promise. We’ll give Ranboo and Tubbo theirs first, so you know what’s coming, how about that?” Wilbur offered. Tommy smiled and nodded gratefully.

Dream watched with pride as Tommy’s eyes lit up as Wilbur put the hats on Tubbo and Ranboo’s heads. The two older teens opened their eyes and were immediately off gleefully chatting about the gifts. Dream pulled Tommy’s out of the bag and placed it on the boy’s lap. Tommy looked down at it, childlike wonder filling his eyes as he stared open-mouthed at the gift.

“For me? Really?” Tommy asked.

“Yeah, Toms. For you.” Dream said softly. “Anything for you, Tommy.”

Dream ruffled Tommy’s hair and put the hat on his head, angling it slightly so that it entirely covered the bandage that was still wrapped around Tommy’s head.

“Well Mr. Innit, where to next?” he asked, moving to stand behind the wheelchair.

“Fuck if I know, this is your haunt. I’ve never even fucking been to a theme park before, Big Man.” Tommy replied, leaning back into the seat.

“I literally only ever come to Disney when Drista wants to come. She usually just drags me places and I follow her whims.” Dream told him.

“We’ll ask Tubbo.” Both of them said in sync before grinning at each other and fist-bumping.

“TUBBO!” Tommy called, interrupting the shorter boy’s conversation with Ranboo.

Chapter Text

Tommy was having a great day.

He was having a great fucking day ok? He had to be because he was at Disney World with all his friends and it was the most magical place on the fucking planet so he was having a wonderful, splendid fantastic day.

The mother yelling at her son a few people ahead of them in line was not affecting him at all.

Not at all.

“Tommy?” someone said from above him and oh, now he was crying. Funny, isn’t it, that that’s all it took to set him off, for a hand to wrap around his windpipe in a way so familiar that it was almost an embrace. Funny that he’s sitting there in the middle of the happiest place on earth sobbing his eyes out in front of everyone he cares about. Funny that he couldn’t even figure out how to feel the childish glee this place seemed to pull out of everyone because he didn’t have a reference point for how that was supposed to feel. And this was a panic attack, he was spiraling and he knew he was spiraling and he didn’t know how to stop and this was fucking embarrassing and god, could his brain just shut the fuck up for one fucking second.

And then there were hands on him and they felt like fire and it hurt, oh god it hurt so he screamed and thrashed, tearing himself away from the hands that were going to hurt him, going to hit him, cut him, stab him, kill him and the ground was rough but the hands were rougher and there was broken glass in his lungs and he was dying.

“Tommy, please, you’re hurting yourself!” Someone cried from behind him, a familiar voice, maybe?

“Toms, Tom, Tommy, Thomas,” someone else called and Tommy froze, tears almost immediately stopping because he couldn’t afford to be sniveling, pathetic, Tommy, because he was Thomas now and crying would only mean he’d be punished more, food would be kept from him, he’d be locked in a closet, he’d never talk to his friends again so he had to be silent and take whatever ass-kicking was handed to him.

Tommy slipped out of his body.

It was a carefully curated defense technique that he’d developed throughout the years of abuse he’d faced. He locked his consciousness deep in his brain, preventing himself from reacting to any outside stimuli and doing anything that could get him punished. It helped that it didn’t hurt when he slid away from everything either.

For everyone around Tommy, these events were highly concerning. First, he’d dropped back into his silent state, staring at something, which they would later realize was in response to the shouting mother. Then when Wilbur called out to him, Tommy had burst into tears, which soon presented themselves as a symptom of a panic attack, and when Phil tried to touch Tommy, he’d throw himself onto the pavement, visibly aggravating the bandages on his arms, and certainly doing a number on his barely getting better chest. The worst thing was when he’d gone nearly catatonic, entirely unresponsive. They hadn’t even known what triggered it and had no idea how to get him out of it.

And now, two hours later, no one had gotten any type of response out of Tommy. They were just glad he was still breathing by this point. Ranboo, Tubbo, and Jack had gone to get food for everyone and come back, Tommy’s meal sitting cold and untouched on the counter.

Dream didn’t know what to do. Everything he’d usually done to help Tommy wasn’t working. It was like the kid was just gone, and Dream wanted him back. He wanted the sweet, loud, brilliant, excitable Tommy he knew back, not this shell of a traumatized teen. Wasn’t it supposed to only be Tommy’s SMP character that was traumatized? Everyone else was in the same boat. Sapnap wasn’t one to compare trauma, but Tommy’s parents had done way more to him than Sapnap’s dad had ever put on him. Wilbur was on the verge of his own panic attack, disassociation had never been one of his coping mechanisms so he didn’t know how to bring his little brother out of it. Phil was stress cleaning Dream’s kitchen and had forced Techno to go upstairs and take a nap to calm his other pseudo son’s nerves. Jack was pacing nervously behind the couch that Tommy was sitting silently on. Tubbo was curled into Tommy’s unfeeling arms, Ranboo and George next to them having a quiet conversation.

Dream was frantically googling. It had taken them far too long to realize Tommy was completely and utterly disassociated, and none of the ways the internet recommended talking someone out of it were working.

“The internet says to have the disassociated person hold something cold. Sapnap, did we ever get the ice machine fixed?” Dream asked.

“I don’t think we did. But we probably have something frozen in the freezer.” Sapnap told him, wringing his hands nervously.

“Calm down mate, I’ll check,” Phil called over to them from his spot where he was cleaning dishes. “Ok, you’ve got some frozen fruit. Do you think that would work?”

Quickly scrolling through the article he had open on his phone, he called out the affirmative.

As Phil tossed Dream the bag of frozen strawberries, Tubbo detached himself from Tommy, allowing Dream to press the cold bags into the youngest’s hands. Everyone watched with bated breath as at first, the temperature had no effect on Tommy. Finally, finally, finally, Tommy’s forehead slowly crinkled as he finally slid back into his body. Tommy blinked rapidly, shaking his head and curling into himself. He started to scratch at his arm, flinching slightly when Tubbo took that hand in his own.

“You back with us, bud?” Dream asked softly from his position on the floor in front of Tommy.

“What?” Tommy asked, still a bit disoriented.

“You disassociated pretty heavily there, Toms. Scared the shit out of us. We’re back at Dream and Sapnap’s house now.” Wilbur told him.

“Oh. I’m sorry.” Tommy replied, looking down.

“It’s not your fault mate, we were just scared cause we care about you,” Phil said, ruffling his hair. “Techno’s passed out upstairs, you know how he gets.”

“How long was it this time?” Tommy hesitantly asked.

“This time?” Tubbo questioned. Tommy just shrugged.

“About 2 hours,” Ranboo admitted.

“Hmm. Short, all things considered.” Tommy mumbled, mostly to himself.

“No, no, go back. This time?” George insisted.

“S not like it hasn’t happened before. Usually for longer periods, like a few days.” Tommy admitted, shifting uncomfortably. Wordlessly, Tubbo got up and went to the freezer to grab the ice packs. Jack replaced Tubbo’s spot, grabbing his hand to keep him from scratching. Ranboo grabbed the other one, and Sapnap started running his hand through Tommy’s hair.

“Do you know why it happened Tommy? Like what triggered it? So we can avoid that as best we can.” Ranboo asked, always the most conscientious about these types of things.

Tommy looked down.

“It’s kind of stupid,” he admitted.

“No such thing.” Jack warmly assured him.

“Someone called me Thomas. That’s what my parents call me. And no one’s called me it since I got here, and I was already freaking out, so I guess I thought my dad was there.” Tommy whispered, barely audible to those who were the furthest away from him.

“That’s good then. No one will say your full name.” Dream told him. “Nothing’s stupid if it helps you.”

Tommy just nodded. Just then, Techno stumbled down the stairs.

“Tommy? Oh, thank god.” He murmured, wrapping the teen up in a hug.

“Hi, Tech,” Tommy muttered, leaning into his arms and shutting his eyes. “M tired.”

“You’ve had a rough day, kiddo. It’s understandable.” Techno told him.

“Can I sleep now?” Tommy asked, tears shining in his eyes.

“Yeah. Yeah, buddy, you can sleep now.”

And Tommy was out, wrapped in Techno’s protective arms. For the first time since he arrived in Florida, he slept through the night.

Chapter Text

While recovering from his injuries and hanging with his friends in Florida had been amazing, Tommy knew it couldn’t last forever. It had been 2 weeks of near silence from ten popular streamers, save for a few tweets each. Plus, Dream couldn’t host all of them for an extended period of time.

The problem lied in that Tommy really, really didn’t want to go back to his cold and dark house where he’d never eat and a fist on his face would be more likely than a reassuring glance. Dream and Sapnap’s house was a little slice of paradise.

He also didn’t want to intrude on any of his friend’s places forever. Realistically, he knew he’d have to go home. He just wanted to know when.

Unbeknownst to Tommy, Dream, Phil, and Wilbur had been hard at work trying to build a case against Tommy’s parents and eventually get Phil and Kristin to take custody of him. No way was he going back to his house, but no way were they losing him in the foster system. George had recorded the phone call with Tommy’s father from the first night, so they had evidence of him threatening them and speaking about the harm he had done to Tommy both physically and mentally. They had pictures and doctor’s notes from the hospital detailing the extent of Tommy’s injuries, as well as a medical professional’s opinion about the way they were inflicted. They had nine people who had watched Tommy’s behavior, seen the extent of some of his trauma. Most importantly, they had Tommy, the victim. They just needed him to be willing to testify.

When Tommy didn’t come downstairs immediately for breakfast with everyone, Dream knew something was wrong. He excused himself and padded up to Tommy’s door, knocking and letting himself through at the quiet come in. He was met with the sight of Tommy, hunched up on the floor, wrapped in his blanket, but still shivering. His eyes were red and puffy. He clearly hadn’t slept much, and Dream made his way over to where he sat, letting Tommy lean into him.

“What’s wrong, Toms?” He asked.

Tommy swallowed, then finally asked, “When are you going to send me back?”

“What?” Dream asked, genuinely confused.

“Well, I can’t stay here forever. I just showed up uninvited. So when do I have to leave and go home? Just so I can like, emotionally prepare.” Tommy sounded far too convinced of the truth of the absolute garbage he was spewing, in Dream’s humble opinion.

“Tommy, why would you think we’re sending you home? No one here would ever send you back. I don’t care if you showed up uninvited, if I didn’t want you here, you wouldn’t be here. I’ve kicked Sapnap out for a few hours before, and he’s done the same for me when we get in an argument. But we have safe places to go when we can’t stand to be around each other. Your parent’s house isn’t a safe place, and your safety is my priority.” Dream insisted, squeezing Tommy into his chest just a bit more securely.

“Oh,” Tommy muttered.

“Yeah kid, oh.” Dream let out a smaller version of his signature wheeze. “In fact, and we’ve been waiting for the right time to tell you, but me, Will, and Phil have been putting together a case. If we have your blessing, we want to take your parents to court. So that you can get justice for the atrocities they’ve put you through, and so that legally, you’d be allowed to separate from them. There’s more, but I should probably let Phil tell you that part.”

“Why,” Tommy licked his lips, hesitating, “why does everyone care so much? I’m really not worth all this trouble.”

“See kid, that’s why we gotta get you away from your parents. They put that absolute bullshit in your head. You’re worth all the trouble the world has to offer, you’re our Tommy, and that will never change.” Dream ran a hand through Tommy’s blonde locks. His hair was getting long, he’d have to ask the kid about a haircut sometime soon. “Honestly, Toms, if we’re having this conversation now, we should get Will and Phil in here. They’re a huge part of all the legal stuff too. Can I message them?”

“Mkay,” Tommy mumbled, curling further into Dream’s side and the warmth that the older man was producing.

Dream’s heart melted a little at Tommy’s tired mannerisms, and he didn’t remove his arm from around Tommy’s shoulder while he pulled out his phone and texted Wilbur and Phil, both him and Tommy laughing softly at the crash that came from downstairs, likley caused by Wilbur. The man certainly looked disheveled when he and Phil joined Tommy and Dream on the floor.

“Tommy here thought that we were going to be sending him back to his parent’s house, so I told him that we’re putting together a case against them.” Dream informed the other two adults.

“Oh, Toms.” Wilbur said softly, taking one of Tommy’s hands. Tommy took the opportunity to pull Wilbur down onto his other side so that he was sandwiched in between Dream and Wilbur. He ignored the twinge in his ribs that came with it, if it was an issue later Tubbo or George would force him to deal with it.

“We’d never, mate,” Phil reassured him, taking his spot on Wilbur’s other side.

“Yeah yeah, you guys missed Dream’s passionate speech,” Tommy muttered, uncomfortable with the abundance of affection he was receiving.

“Ok, so I told you that we’re trying to build a case, right?” Dream asked, Tommy nodding along. “We’ve got a lawyer and have been collecting evidence, but we haven’t applied for the court date yet.”

“We wanted to wait to talk to you and get your blessing,” Phil told him.

Tommy licked his lips, hesitating.

“If… if my parents go to jail, what, um, what would happen to me? Legally they’re my guardians, they control my entire life. I… I just ran away.” Tommy asked.

“Well, Tommy, if you’ll have us, Kristen and I would love to adopt you. It’d be a bit of a process, and you’d probably end up in the foster system for a few weeks while we get approval and all that.” Phil said, a small smile on his face at the thought of dropping the “pseudo internet” from the title of pseudo internet son.

Tommy twisted out of Dream and Wilbur’s grips, getting stuck in his blankets for a second, but eventually getting to a sat-up position where he could successfully stare open mouthed at Phil.

“What the fuck, Phil,” Tommy said, voice low and disbelieving.

“Huh?” Phil asked, confused at what didn’t make sense about his statement.

“You can’t just go about adopting random traumatized kids you met off the internet!” Tommy cried.

“You’re not exactly a random kid, mate. I’ve known you for years, you’ve met Kristen and spoken to her many times. We both love you, and you were already my internet kid. I’m just dropping the internet part of it.” Phil told him.

“Fucking hell, talk about a Dadza moment,” Tommy mumbled, running a hand over his face. Wilbur and Dream both had to bite back laughs at that. Only Tommy would say something like that. “You’re really serious?”

“The court appeal is ready to be submitted as soon as you give the go. We have adoption papers nearly all filled out too, but those can’t be submitted until we’ve won the case.” Phil confirmed.

“What,” Tommy hesitated, futzing with a loose string in the blanket he was wrapped in, “What happens to me if we submit the appeal and lose?”

“We’re not gonna lose.” Dream declared, leaving no room for argument.

“We have an abundance of evidence against them. And with your testimony, they don’t stand a chance.” Wilbur added.

“Fuck. Let’s fucking take my parents to court then.”

“Hell yeah!” Wilbur cried, holding his hand up for a high five, which Tommy met slightly less enthusiastically.

“OK mates, I’m too old to spend much more time on the floor. My back cannot handle it, and neither can yours, probably. In case you all forgot, we spend every day hunched over computers. What do you say about omelets?” Phil asked.

“See, Phil, this is why you are the only good man.” Tommy proclaimed, shooting up and dumping the blankets on the bed.

He started to move towards the door, before biting his lip and turning back. Then he threw himself into Phil’s arms. Phil stumbled back a little bit, considering Tommy, despite his skinniness (and they were gonna have to work on that) had a few inches on him. Nonetheless, he smiled and hugged the shaking teenager back.

“Thank you,” Tommy murmured into Phil’s shoulder. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

Chapter Text

With Tommy’s blessing, the court order was submitted, and nearly everyone was shocked at how fast the procedure seemed to move. They had submitted it two weeks into everyone being in Florida, so three weeks after George and Tommy had gotten there. Another two weeks after that, Ranboo and Techno left to go back to California, while everyone else returned to the UK. Sapnap and Dream decided to go to England as well, and they and Tommy ended up renting a house because Tommy’s concerns about his parents knowing Wilbur, George, Phil, Tubbo, and Jack’s addresses all still stood. Phil and Kristen were already planning to move once they got custody of Tommy. Wilbur, George, and Jack were too, and Tubbo was working on convincing his parents. They all wanted to move closer to Brighton so that they could all be around each other, and Tommy would have a wide selection of safe spaces.

The night before the trial, Tommy was a lanky, shaky mess of nerves. He was curled into a ball on the corner of the couch, underneath a weighted blanket in an attempt to settle some of them. The Chinese takeout they had gotten lay cold and forgotten on the table, Tommy having thrown up everything he’d tried to stomach that day.

Looking at Tommy, Sapnap was struck with an overwhelming state of deja vu. It hadn’t been that long since he’d been in a hotel room in Texas, enveloped in the comforting arms of his mother when they’d finally sent the bastard he shared half of his DNA with to prison with the help of Dream’s family. Sapnap realized that he now had the chance to be what Dream was for him to Tommy. So he made his way over to the couch.

“Hello, Tommy!” He greeted as he sat down.

“Hi Sap,” Tommy responded, far less enthusiastically.

“How are you feeling?” He asked, and was met with a pointed look from the teen. “Right, stupid question.”

“Yeah, thinking it’s kind of obvious, Big Man,” Tommy scoffed.

“Did I ever tell you about my childhood?” Sapnap suddenly asked, overwhelmed with a desire to talk about it, to let Tommy know he wasn’t alone. Tommy shook his head. “It was kind of similar to yours, actually. My dad was shit as well. You know, all the works, property destruction, beatings, punishments, holding back food. He’d do it to me and my mom. And I got out of it a similar way you did too. One time, I was on a call with Dream playing Minecraft, we were sixteen, and he came barging in. I didn’t have time to mute or anything, so Dream told his mom and his family helped me and my mom get sorted, take him to court. He’s in jail now. We won. And we didn’t have nearly as much evidence as we have for yours. So I guess what I’m trying to tell you is that it’s gonna work out. You’re gonna be OK. You just get up on the stand and talk. Give em hell. And we’ll all be there right behind you. George and I are already preparing to have to hold Dream back from trying to beat up your dad.”

Sapnap grinned when Tommy laughed lightly at that.

“Thanks, Sapnap. You didn’t have to tell me that. If anyone knows how hard it is to talk about a shit childhood, it’s me, but it was surprisingly reassuring to hear about your trauma. That’s a bit fucked, but isn’t everything about all of this?” Tommy told him.

“Yeah, yeah kid, it is,” Sapnap responded, opening his arms for a hug, which Tommy gratefully indulged in. Only, Tommy didn’t pull back when Sapnap expected him to, instead just snuggling further into his arms the way Sapnap had seen him do with Dream, Wilbur, Phil, and Techno.

“Is this alright?” Tommy asked, “It’s just, you’re a bit better than a weighted blanket.”

“Course, Toms. It’s perfectly alright.” Sapnap smiled down at the teen, shifting slightly so that Tommy was laying more across his lap, and moving the blanket over his now stretched-out legs. He put on She Ra quietly and started running his fingers through Tommy’s mop of curls. This was quickly becoming their form of physical affection.

And if when Dream came downstairs the next morning to find Tommy and Sapnap passed out curled together, with the Netflix are you still watching screen blinking on the TV, well, the pictures on his phone were between him and Philza Minecraft.

As much as he wanted to let his boys sleep, Dream knew they had a long and difficult day ahead of them, and wanted to get as much food as he could into Tommy. He made some eggs and french toast and made a fruit salad before going to wake them up. As expected, Tommy was quiet, anxious, content to just listen to Sapnap and Dream trade meaningless banter through mouthfuls of sugary bread.

“You can eat, Tommy.” Dream said as he placed a plate down in front of him, used to it after five weeks. Tommy nodded shortly and started to choke down some eggs, despite the swirling in his stomach. He only managed to eat a few bites.

Breakfast was a quiet affair, defined by anxiety in his chest and throat and Sapnap’s fingers occasionally threading through his hair and Dream’s hands rubbing his shoulders. It was somewhat peaceful, and Tommy would have liked nothing more than to freeze in the moment and not have to face the day before him. He’d be seeing his parents today, for the first time in five weeks. For the first time since his father had tried to stab him.

Tommy couldn’t do it.

No, he had to. Fuck, he didn’t fly to Florida on his own just to give up now. He had an entire army behind him, from Phil to Wilbur, to Dream, to all his friends on the SMP and in streamer world, to his lawyer, Mr. Lenny Leibowitz who was a little strange and dramatic but was supposed to be one of the best for his type of case, and apparently, was Dream’s go-to guy when it came to the law. He made Tommy laugh.

When Tommy glanced at the SMP discord, the general chat was filled with messages of support for him. While not everyone knew everything, everyone had noticed when half of the server members dropped off the face of the internet for weeks, and they deserved a bit of an explanation.

From Nikinikinihachu:
Good luck today Tommy! It’s gonna go super well and we’re all rooting for you!

From I Am NOT A Duck:
We’re all thinking of you Tommy! Good luck!

From Papa Puff:
Kill it out there today Tommy! Give em hell!

From Actual King:
You got this Tommy! We love you!

And more. Of course, Ranboo and Techno had DMed him more personal and touching messages, but they were far more in the know than everyone else. While it was a thoughtful gesture, it really did nothing to calm him as he dressed in the uncomfortable suit he had to wear for the occasion. Sapnap went full Sapmum, attempting to tame Tommy’s fluffy mess of curls. He was not successful.

Upon their arrival at the courthouse, Tommy attached himself to Wilbur’s side, seeking the comfort of someone taller than him, which, with the significant lack of Ranboo, Wilbur was the only one who could provide. Phil and Kristen were also there, as they were serving as Tommy’s temporary guardians, despite him staying with Sapnap and Dream. That meant only Phil and Kristen could be with him behind the prosecution table. Everyone else (Wilbur, Tubbo, Dream, Sapnap, and George) would have to sit in the audience.

“Tommy! How are you feeling, man?” Mr. Leibowitz asked him, as they stood outside the room where the trial of his parents would be taking place.

“Not great,” Tommy admitted, short and clipped, from his place in Wilbur’s shoulder.

“Well don’t worry! You’re wonderful and amazing, and you just have to talk and I’ll do the rest of the job for you.” Lenny reassured. “Just remember to answer my questions with anything you think might be relevant.”

Just then, they were notified that the trial was about to begin. Tommy reluctantly detached himself from Wilbur, opting to take Kristen’s offered hand instead. Tommy kept his head down as long as he could, but he couldn’t avoid the sight of both of his parents sitting behind a table on the opposite end of the room. His mother had her carefully crafted blank look on her face, but his father, god his father, was glaring daggers at him. The worst part was the sadistic smirk on his face. Tommy knew exactly what that look meant, and he was caught in it, transfixed, captured by years of pain and fear until Phil gently guided his face away.

Tommy zoned out as both Mr. Leibowitz and his parents’ lawyers gave their opening statements. He knew all of the accusations he had made already. Child neglect, child abuse, assault, and attempted murder. With any luck and one hell of a testimony from him, they would all go through. He heard snippets of his parent’s testimonies, slipping through his foggy brain as he hovered on the edge of disassociation.

“He was a difficult child…”

“Always loved to make up scenarios…”

“He role-plays an abused character for a living…”

“Maybe we haven’t been the most present, and Thomas’s brain is just overcompensating for it…”

“We’ve certainly never done anything as extreme as the accusations we’re facing…”

“We love Tommy so much, he does so much for us…”

Tommy felt Phil and Kristin shaking with anger underneath his hands, but he couldn’t find it in himself to summon an extreme emotion. His friend’s testimonies, even though they were in his favor, might have been even more difficult to listen to.

“I found Tommy having a panic attack on the airport floor with blood and bruises on every patch of his visible skin, panicking into his phone about not telling his parents where he was, that they were going to kill him if we did…”

“God, the knife slashes were the worst thing I’ve ever seen. It had been at least the 13-hour flight from London to Orlando, and some of them were still bleeding…”

“We have the doctor’s statement on just how bad his injuries were, still are really. His ribs are still very messed up…”

“The first night he was with us, we tried to give him food, and he told us and I quote “food is a privilege, and it’s one I haven’t earned.” I can’t forget those words, and I never will. Tommy still doesn’t eat without us giving him express permission…”

“Tommy had a full-blown panic attack and then disassociated for two hours because someone called him his full name and he thought his parents were there to hurt him…”

Still, disconnectedly hearing his friends talk about it was better than when he was going to have to speak. Unfortunately, that time came far too soon. Mouth dry, hands shaking, and limp slightly more pronounced than typical as he couldn’t be bothered to mask it, Tommy made his way to the stand, placing his hand on the bible that was presented to him.

“Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth so help you God?” The Judge asked him.

“I do,” Tommy whispered. “Sorry, uh, I do.” He spoke up a little louder.

“Hi, Tommy!” Mr. Leibowitz said, approaching the stand. “Let’s get started. Can you describe what you remember of your early childhood?”

“Um. Yeah. Uh, I think, uh, I remember, my parents used to be nice to me. They used to love me. But um, I was a pretty difficult child like they said, but what they failed to mention was that they turned to corporal punishment for whenever I did something wrong. Which is fine, you know, every kid needs to learn their lessons, it’s normal. And then they started to teach me everything by slapping it into me. When I was learning to read and write, if I asked a question. Which was fine too, because it made for great motivation to remember. So I guess they’ve always been hurting me, but I think it used to come from a place of love. Not anymore though.” Tommy told him.

“Can you elaborate on the not anymore part of that statement?”

“Uh. At some point, hitting me wasn’t a punishment or a lesson all the time. My father started to drink more, come home later. And uh, he had a lot of like, pent-up rage. And well, we didn’t have a punching bag so the nine-year-old worked just as well. Oh, uh, I was the nine-year-old. And then my mom lost her job so she was really frustrated and angry all the time. So she would yell at me and hurt me. And that’s when she started withholding food. I didn’t need it as much and we didn’t have a ton of money so it was like a reward. For when I was good. Food is a privilege, and it’s one I haven’t earned.” Tommy recited, echoing Sapnap’s earlier testimony.

“Once it became an outlet for them, how often would you say your parents would hurt you, Tommy?” Mr. Leibowitz asked.

“More like how often wouldn’t they. It was an everyday thing for the last eight years. Since I was nine. I’m seventeen now.” Tommy told him. On the edge of his vision, he saw Wilbur reach a hand forward from the audience onto Phil’s shoulder, as the older man was shaking with barely contained rage.

“You mentioned food being a reward for when you were good. What constitutes being good?” Mr. Leibowitz spoke, eyes locked on Tommy, trying to keep him grounded.

“Not being loud and annoying. Paying the bills early. That’s the only reason they didn’t stop me streaming, you know. Because it brought in money for them. And most of the time I didn’t have access to my money. I was only able to get the flight to Florida on the last night because I stole the card out of my father’s wallet.” Tommy spoke, oblivious to the way all his friend’s heads snapped up. He hadn’t mentioned that before. Another thing that was horribly normalized to him.

Tommy started to slip, the comforts of unfeeling pulling at the corners of his mind.

No.

Stay grounded, Thomas.

He started to scratch his arm.

“Can you tell me about what happened the night you went to Florida?” Mr. Leibowitz asked. Tommy licked his lips. He knew the question was coming, but that didn’t make answering it any easier.

“I was, uh, home alone, streaming, which you know, is nice because there’s no one to yell at me when I get to be too loud. It was probably around 2 in the morning? I was talking to… uh... Tubbo, Wilbur, Dream, and uh, Jack when I heard my parents get home. They were out drinking. I ended stream and left the VC as quick as possible, which made all my friends a bit worried but I figured I’d come up with an excuse once I’d had the shit kicked into me like happened every night.” Tommy paused, swallowing, scratching harder as the desire to dissociate pulled harder. “Usually, they’d just scream and hit and kick and slap me, but, and I, um, I don’t know why, but my father had a knife. And he started to like, cut up my chest and arms and stomach and shit. And then, when he had me on the floor, he raised the knife above his head to stab me through the heart. The only reason he didn’t was cause my mom came in and reminded him that they needed my income. And I was in a lot of pain because he’d kicked in my ribs and slammed my head into the floor to get me down, but I ran to my room, grabbed a backpack, my passport, and ran downstairs to where my dad had dropped his wallet, grabbed his card and left the house. I found the first taxi I could and took it to the airport, buying the first international ticket I could find on the app. My parents know the addresses of all my friends in the UK, so they weren’t options. Some stroke of divine intervention put me in Florida with George.”

“Thank you, Tommy. No further questions.” Mr. Leibowitz nodded at the judge and went to sit back with Phil and Kristen.

His parent’s lawyer stood up, and it filled Tommy with a sick form of satisfaction that he looked slightly sick as he told the judge he had no questions for Tommy. He was defending two fucking abusers, after all. It’s not normal. It’s not normal. It’s not normal. Tommy didn’t have the energy to resist the pull, anymore, and he slipped into the unfeelingness. He relished in how good the numbness felt, eyes unseeing, ears unhearing, hands unfeeling. He didn’t realize as Phil led him off of the witness stand, he didn’t realize as his parents called a few character witnesses, he didn’t realize as Mr. Leibowitz presented the physical evidence they’d gotten from his doctors.

When he finally slipped back into the real world, he was back in the small room they’d been in, before the trial started, smooshed in between Wilbur and Tubbo, ice cubes in his hands after his friends (his family?) forcibly brought him back.

“Hey Toms, how you feeling?” Tubbo asked softly, carding his fingers through the taller boy’s hair. Tommy groaned, digging his face into his best friend’s shoulder.

“Don’t wanna be back, Tubs,” Tommy admitted, making Tubbo’s hand move from his hair to rubbing comforting circles on his back.

“I know, but they’re about to call the trial back to session and give the verdict. It’s almost over, Toms, and then you’ll be free.” Tubbo smiled as Tommy lifted a puffy face with inquisitive eyes up.

“Promise?” Tommy asked, looking so small and sad and unlike the loud and bright Tommy Tubbo knew and loved.

“Course I promise. You did amazing, Toms, there’s no way the jury didn’t go in your favor. It’s barely been fifteen minutes, they didn’t even have to think about it.” Tubbo told him. Tommy bit his lip and nodded, letting Wilbur pull him to his feet.

When they got back into the courtroom, Tommy pulled Phil in as his source of grounding human contact, pressing himself up against the older man’s side. His father’s eyes were still boring cruel circles into the side of his head, but Tommy ignored him and focused on adjusting one of the bandages on his hand that had fallen out of place as they waited for the jury to return. After what felt like forever, the group had filed back into their seats and the spokesperson stood up to give his final verdict.

“The jury finds both of the defendants guilty of all charges, and moves to submit that they receive the maximum punishment for their crimes.” The person said, shooting a small smile at Tommy as they sat down.

Tommy immediately collapsed, sobbing into Phil and Kristen’s arms. Dream let go of his breath for the first time since Tommy had ended that stream weeks ago, closing his eyes and running his fingers through his hair as he sighed. Sapnap and George fist-pumped, grabbing each other’s hands in the grip of celebration. Wilbur pulled Tubbo into a tight hug. Mr. Leibowitz smiled.

“Very well. The defendants will be placed in maximum security prison for thirty years with no chance for parole. Custody of their son, Thomas Simons will be removed with visitation only on the wishes of the prosecutor, even once the sentences have been served. As for Thomas, it is my understanding that his current temporary guardians, Mr. and Mrs. Watson plan to move to legally adopt him. Thomas will be placed in the foster care system until they are deemed suitable full-time guardians. Case closed.” The judge spoke, punctuating his sentence with a bang of his gavel.

Tommy didn’t even watch as his parents were taken away, too caught up in the arms of his friends, who had all but jumped over the barrier separating them as soon as the sentences were given. They all stood in one big clump around him, most of them crying.

This was what family was supposed to be, he realized. This warmth, this happiness that bubbled through him in this moment. Family wasn’t neglect, pain, and hunger, family wasn’t conditional, family wasn’t punishing. Family was the best people he’d ever met hugging him, crying because they were happy for him, because they were proud of him. Family was how hard Phil and Kristen were working to get him officially adopted as soon as possible, giving him the only real parents he’d ever have or need. Family was the way his people were moving just so that he’d feel safe being at their houses. Family was the way Wilbur and Techno, and now Dream referred to him as their little brother. Family was the way Sapnap and George fussed over him, making sure he ate and wasn’t in too much pain. Family was the way Ranboo, Tubbo, and Jack texted him every day just because they thought of him. Family was the supportive messages on the SMP main chat this morning.

For the first time, Tommy soon-to-be-Watson had a family.

Chapter Text

Tommy really wanted to get to his fucking family already. While it wasn’t as bad as his old house, the group home he’d been placed in while Phil and Kristen sorted out all the adoption issues was his own personal hell. The couple that ran it were perfectly nice, but the kids were fucking awful. Right off the bat, he’d been recognized as TommyInnit, and like always, the kids were cruel. He’d left all of his sentimental or expensive items with Phil since they were setting up a room for him, but nearly everything he had on him had been stolen or destroyed in the two and a half weeks he’d spent there so far. No one besides the foster parents had shown any semblance of kindness to him, and he spent most of his time curled up in a corner with his earbuds in, either listening to music or texting friends. Dream in particular reached out a lot, and Tommy was starting to realize that Dream was creating a space similar to the ones Techno and Wilbur had established long ago in his heart. He was also pretty sure he’d been disassociating for at least some periods of time if the frantic spamming Tubbo and Ranboo sent him when he didn’t respond was anything to go by. All in all, he was ready to be in Phil and Kristen’s (his?) house.

Tommy was shaken awake by the foster mother, he couldn’t remember her name, decently early and was told that he had a visitor coming, and he needed to get ready. He was confused because surely Phil and Kristen hadn’t gotten everything sorted yet, so it wouldn’t be them. Maybe the Dream Team? Dream and Sapnap were still in the UK helping George move from London to Brighton, and he was sure Dream could read that he was feeling down in his messages. Or possibly Tubbo’s family? He hadn’t seen Lani or Teagan in a while. Well whoever it was, the problem remained that he hadn’t showered in four days, or really eaten anything remotely substantial in two and a half weeks, because no one was there to give him permission and he couldn’t handle eating without it. He looked a mess, and he knew it. Sighing, Tommy prepared to fight his way into the bathroom for a shower.

Luckily, he managed to do it, and when he made his way back to his bed, hair dripping wet, and was met with a plate of eggs. Scoffing, he pushed them aside. His lovely trauma, staring him straight in the face. Ooh, and then it slammed into him full force along with the door, which opened to reveal the foster father.

“Tommy, the people here to see you are downstairs talking to Felicity.” He told him. Ah, Felicity must be the wife’s name. “Have you eaten anything today? You haven’t been to any of the group meals the whole time you’ve been here.”

“Yes, sir,” Tommy replied, short and clipped, tension rolling off of his hunched-over position. He pointedly did not look at the still obviously full plate of eggs that was on his bed. The man just sighed sympathetically and told him to come downstairs as quickly as possible.

When he did make it down the stairs (he wasn’t psyching himself up to do it, he didn’t have to, he’s a big man) he was met with the sight of all of his friends that were in England and knew his situation. Even Jack and Tubbo had made it, and Tommy was immediately wrapped in Wilbur’s comforting arms. The older man, while delighted to see his little brother, frowned when he felt Tommy’s ribs prominently sticking out again.

“Why are you all here?" Tommy asked, grin brighter than it’d been in a while.

“What, I can’t come to see my officially legal son in all but his signature just cause I feel like it?” Phil laughed, Kristen’s smile warm over his shoulder. Tommy’s eyes widened and he tore himself out of Wilbur’s arms.

“It’s all sorted?” Tommy hoarsely asked, small and disbelieving.

“Just needs one signature from you and you’re coming home, safe and sound,” Kristen confirmed.

“Safe and sound,” Tommy whispered. And damn, this kid. He had everyone’s heart wrapped around his goddamn finger. Safe and sound was new for Tommy, but he’d take it by storm.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” Dream laughed, gesturing towards Felicity, who held a stack of paperwork in his arms. She smiled brightly at Tommy. Tommy grinned back, stepping forward.

With slightly shaky hands, Tommy signed his name, pressing down a cringe at writing the whole thing, but getting over it by the fact that he was able to put Watson down for his last name.

Tommy Watson. He liked the sound of that.

As soon as Tommy put the pen down, he was startled by a loud pop. He jumped, spinning around to see Sapnap holding a bottle of champagne. Tubbo pressed something on his phone, and a speaker started to play Celebration. He rolled his eyes, although the effect was significantly dampened by the huge smile that stretched across his face.

“You lot are the stupidest people I’ve ever met. I love you guys so fucking much.” Tommy admitted. Phil reached out and pulled his son into his side.

“Mate, it is a celebration,” Phil told him, as he leaned in to whisper in Tommy’s ear. “And I have absolutely no control over Tubbo, he’s even more of a chaotic shit than you are, especially without Ranboo here to reel him in.” Tommy nodded in agreement. Jack was the only one indulging Tubbo, both boys doing a horrible rendition of the macarena while George looked on in disgust. Like he could do any better.

“Hey, Toms, do you want to go grab your stuff? Then we can take this party home.” Kristen asked.

Tommy nodded and dashed back upstairs, grabbing his backpack, which held everything he’d managed to keep from the other kids. People had to hold off their fond giggles as Tommy bolted down the stairs and slid on the wood in his socks, barreling straight into Wilbur, who then fell into Dream, resulting in a mini domino line of (in Phil’s Very Important And Wise opinion) ridiculously tall people.

“Oops, sorry,” Tommy apologized sheepishly, offering a hand to Wilbur after he’d managed to get off of the older man.

“Glad to see he’s excited!” Phil joked.

The ride back to the Watsons took multiple cars and a bit of time, seeing as the group had to get from London to Brighton, but it was entirely worth it to see Tommy’s face light up upon arrival. He spun around slowly, the hint of a smile on his face, taking in the couches and comfort and homely setup of the area. It was entirely different from the house he was raised in, pictures of loved ones adorning the walls, friends, family abound. Harold Stiltonsberg The Third, the beloved Minecraft bee plushie, sat on the sofa

“Tommy!” Tubbo called. “We’re having cake!”

The younger teen grinned, making his way over to the kitchen, where everyone was gathered around a cake that read ‘Happy Adoption Day, Tommy!’ in bright red icing.

Tommy once again got hugs from everyone, blowing out the candles and digging in.

Tommy wasn’t fine, by any means, as he still had 17 years of trauma to cope with. But he’d gotten away from his abusers and into his home with his loving family. He had an entire group of people on his side, who loved him unconditionally.

By everything he had in him and more, Tommy Watson would be okay.