Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Round 16 

 Tommy let himself be led away from house number fifteen. They were a nice family. Well, as nice as you could get these days. They fed him, clothed him, they were lenient, let him get away with a bit more than normal. Like that time he ditched school because he didn’t fancy getting pummeled that day.

 Granted, he knew the truth behind their so-called “kindness” . They only took care of him because that’s what they were required to do in order to invite some other forgotten child into their home. That’s what they had to do to get paid.

 With his back to his old foster mother, Tommy noticed how she stood at the porch of the white panel house with her eldest son by her side watching him leave. She had a disinterested look to her face, but her relieved eyes betrayed her. Tommy has seen those eyes a thousand times before, whether they tried to hide it or not. It was like a picture copied and pasted onto every family he had the misfortune of meeting.

 She was happy to see him go and he couldn’t blame her. He was not the most well-behaved child. Cussing had a familiar way of spilling out his mouth, he was an easy C to D student, and most of all, he was loud. He was obnoxious. People don’t want to deal with that kind of child. Which is why he was not surprised to be dragged away yet again. About to be dropped onto some other poor family's doorstep.

 Barely registering the sharp slam of the car door being shut on him or the following one beside him, Tommy watched out of the corner of his eye as his social worker sat next to him in the driver's seat. The car sagging from the weight.

 The car hummed to life as Tommy shrugged off his old, beaten up, faded red backpack and shoved it down by his feet. He didn’t even take a second glance to stare at the new hole on the side of his old yellow sneakers or the new stain in his faded grey jeans.

 Sam sighed heavily as he twisted around to face the rear windshield, beginning to back out of the driveway. Listening to the gravel popping and sputtering when the tires met the road, Tommy’s shoulders met his ears as he stared out the window. In the front of his mind was the image of Sam’s pinched brows, lips ironed together in a tight, thin line, while his fern green eyes fogged with troubled thoughts. It wasn’t that hard to tell that his social worker was upset. Or at least was about to be.

 Tommy had failed once again and he couldn’t help but shrink in on himself as that thought sunk in his head.

 As they began to drive down the grey road, he tried to ignore the disappointed look his old foster brother gave him before turning to walk inside the now unfamiliar house. Tommy liked his foster brother. He’ll never see him again, will he?

 “Care to explain what happened this time?” Sam asked calmly, glancing towards Tommy.

 Shrugging, he mumbled a faint “I don’t know. . .” before going back to watching the colorful houses stream by like a vibrant slideshow. Red, blue, yellow, white, pink, yellow, white, purple.

 They drove in thick silence as they passed an old book store, then a modern nail salon, then a quaint little red restaurant. His heart was filled with dejection remembering a past foster father. The tall, kind man had brought him to a restaurant just like that one. It was also red and homey. It was nice. He was nice. His smile was as bright as the sun with a matching laugh so loud and boisterous that it could warm a room. Why did he send him back again? He couldn’t remember anymore, but he could guess.

 Sam’s blinker started.

 Click, clack, click, clack, click, clack.

 He liked the sound of his blinker, it was gentle and soft, reminding him of fingers pressing against an old keyboard. Reminded him of his birth father.

 His father was a writer, a good one at that. Oftentimes, when Tommy was younger, he would find himself sitting on his father's lap. Watching his fingers quickly tread over letters with a soft tap tap tap as his book would slowly come together like a complicated puzzle. As Tommy would rest his head on his fathers shoulder, he would face his momma, who would sit comfortably next to them on the couch, listening to her soft mumbled praises and stories. Maybe he would take a nap after all that tiring watching and listening.

 His eyelids sagged like weights at the memory, a nap sounded wonderful right now. He was tired. Though he was always tired at this point. His nights were always plagued by nightmares or just plain loneliness. Kept awake by fighting foster parents or siblings or cries from a distraught newborn. Snores from a person he was forced to share a room with, or even the same bed at one point.

 Tommy let his eyelids fall leaning his head back, ready to let the sweet release of sleep take over his busy mind. Though it was cut short by Sam.

 “I uh,” Sam paused, glancing over towards him, gripping the steering wheel in a near white knuckle grip. “I figured this would happen, so I uh. . . went ahead and got you set up with another family.”

 Tommy gaped at him before scoffing, rolling his eyes. Of course he did . Even Sam believed he was incapable of receiving love. Sam knew he wouldn’t be able to last more than a month.

 “Alright Big Man, who’s the unfortunate soul?” He asked, not trying to hide his distaste. He already danced this nightmare induced routine before.

 Sam scowled at his choice of words. “Thomas, please. Try to be a little positive?” He turned the wheel leading them to a near empty highway.

 “What is positivity?” Tommy sneered sarcastically.

 His social worker’s brows wrinkled together in frustration. “Thomas. . .”

 “Yeah, yeah, continue with the execution speech.” Tommy gave a small smirk when Sam tried to hide his scowl, looking away from the teen.

 Sam cleared his throat as they continued down the highway surrounded by vast green and yellow fields.

 Must be out of town folk. Tommy thought as a shiver went down his spine. He never liked being away from the city. Away from neighborhoods, away from people. No one is there to hear your screams.

 “You’ll be staying with Phillip Watson and his two sons.” Sam continued. “He has fostered twice before and adopted both of them.”

 Adopted foster brothers? Tommy feels a sense of peace hearing that. There will be kids like him. Maybe this will actually be a decent house. Been awhile since he’s had one of those.

 “Alright, anything else I get to know about?” Tommy asked, watching as they passed a sparkling green lake. As the water ripples and waves, the sun glitters brightly over the surface of the deep Adam’s ale. Boats float, bobbing up and down, rocking side to side gently. While his Mother would sing soft melodies, she would rock him from side to side till he was sent off to a soft dream land. Oh how he misses her voice, her touch.

 Sam seemed to pause. He thought for a moment before he spoke. “Phil has. . . Phil has done a wonderful job with. . . difficult. . . cases before. I believe he can do it again, which is why I’m trusting him with you. Do you understand?”

 He let out a dry laugh. “He’s delt with fuck ups before so he can do it again with me. Heard you loud and clear Big Man.”

 Tommy flinched when Sam sighed loudly, exasperated.

 Noticing his movement, he gave a small, sympathetic glance. “Sorry Tommy, but you need to watch that mouth of yours. Just give this place a shot! What could go wrong?”

 Oh if only you knew. Tommy thought before giving a quiet grumble in response. He turned his attention back to the window. They’ve now reached a deep, boreal forest. As they sped past, dark greens and rough browns filled his eyes as he watched the blurred pine trees. They were really out of town now.

 Sighing, Tommy reached for his bag and pulled it onto his lap. He reached through a large, frayed hole in the top of the bag, not even bothering with the zipper, and pulled out an old, beaten-up android phone. A long, thin trail of dastardly looking grey headphones followed after it. Tommy thinks they used to be white at one point.

 Hardly bothering to untangle the cords, he pressed the speakers into his ears. Swiping through the phone, he pulled up YouTube and began to play his beloved music playlist, doing his best to ignore the ads.

~~o0o~~

 Time went on steadily. His music played on as they sped past tall trees, short ferns, and soft moss. They were becoming a familiar sight as they continued down the road. As Ophelia by The Lumineers blasted in his ears, Tommy was quite surprised to see a few houses here and there. They were all quite large, mostly cabin-like houses. They were pretty to say the least. The one they just passed was a two-story, log birch wood house with a white brick foundation.

 Soon enough those pretty houses became a little more frequent. Though it still took a solid minute between each plot of land.

 After a solid two-hour drive, they finally pulled up the large driveway of a very nice house.

 The house was similar to the others they passed. It looked about two stories tall, made up of some kind of dark wood planks. The foundation is made up of irregular, jagged, black stones while the whole house is lined with thick smooth logs. It genuinely made Tommy look in awe. He’s seen some nice houses before but they never looked this welcoming. It was like the house was saying, “Come in and make yourself comfortable.”

 Huh, maybe this would be a nice foster home.

 Tommy looked down at his phone, paused Tongue Tied by Grouplove, and glared as the 20% battery notification popped up. He dismissed it and shoved his phone back in his bag as Sam got out of the car with a grumble. Tommy slowly followed suit throwing his bag over his shoulder.

 The driveway was quite wide taking its place in front of a four-car garage. Sam’s car took the bottom left spot behind a silver Subaru of some kind. The back of the old thing was littered with bumper stickers, from things the owner must enjoy to dumb jokes no one would find funny. Next to it was a dirt covered, rundown, blue Chevrolet truck with a bunch of dark plywood in the back. At the end of the driveway, was the final car, which was a nice-looking red Ford that seemed brand new.

 These people must be living comfortably. Tommy thought as he got a better look at the house. As he glanced around, he caught sight of someone in the second story window. They made eye contact, his icy blue eyes meeting sparkling brown ones. Before Tommy could panic, the person left the window and he was left to just stare.

 “Come on.” Tommy looked over to Sam, who was walking up steps to the left of the garage. He followed, staying close behind as they continued up the long steps. He found himself making two short strides before going up one.

 The sweet smell of flowers filled his nose. He turned his attention to the left and over the rail. There were planters filled to the brim with many different types of exotic flowers. As he stared at the rainbow of colors, Tommy could admit he kind of wished he could name all of them. The most he could name was a small patch of daisies they just passed, and even then, he wouldn’t be surprised if he was wrong.

 He glanced up to the canopy above them, then to the dark pillars that held it up. With every step was a pillar, and between every pillar was a hanging plant. Some baskets were filled with more puffs of flowers, others filled with curling vines that spilled over the side like a green waterfall.

 Tommy’s thoughts about flowers ended when he bumped into the back of Sam.

 “Sorry.” He muttered, shuffling a few steps back. 

 “You’re fine.” Sam smiled before turning back to the front door. 

 Like the rest of the staircase, there were two potted plants on each side of the door complemented with a hanging plant above each of them. Tommy was starting to wonder who the plant lover was. They were all taken care of very well.

 Sam opened the screen door, knocking a few times on the actual door before closing it again. Tommy fiddled with his fingers as he waited, staring dumbly at his old, beat-up nails. 

 They didn’t have to wait long before the front door was opened. Tommy didn’t look up immediately, much more interested in a particular chip that threatened the look of his middle finger nail.

 “Ah! Hello, hello! Sam, correct?” His voice held a heavy accent, similar to Tommy’s British accent but thicker. There was an audible smile.

 Sam spoke from in front of Tommy. “Yup, that would be me.” Sam stuck out his hand for the other man to shake. 

 He took it before responding, “That’s wonderful to hear. My name is Phil.”

 Sam nodded and glanced behind him. “And this is Thomas.” He took a step to the side revealing a nerve driven Tommy, who shoved his hands into the pockets of his old hoodie. He glanced up to see the man was a bit shorter than Sam, with straight blonde hair that reached to about his shoulders, pulled back in a low ponytail. Phil had a blonde, stubble, chin strap beard. His ears were decorated with gold stud earrings with an emerald in the middle of each one. Tommy wondered if they were real.

 “Hello mate.” Phil spoke softly, giving Tommy the most delicate and welcoming smile he’s ever seen in his life. Hell, it was more real than his own mother’s smile. Tommy couldn’t just ignore him like he did with other families.

 “Hi.” He stared down at the ground like it was a speaker at a talk show. When he dared to glance back up, Phil didn’t seem bothered by his pathetic introduction at all, if anything, you could say he looked proud.

 “Would you like to talk inside? I’m making tea if you're interested.” Tommy liked tea, it was calming, it helped him relax. He could use that right now. He glanced up at Sam expectantly. 

 Sam smiled at him. “Sure, I don’t see why not. You have a bit of paperwork we have to discuss and sign, then we’re all good! Though I can’t stay long, I have quite the drive ahead of me.” Tommy followed Sam as they walked inside.

 “Understood, shoes off at the door please.” Phil said, closing the dark brown door behind them as he walked a bit ahead of them.

 Tommy used his heel to take off his sneakers and put them beside a pair of black converses. Phil did not have a pleased look when he saw the state of his shoes and socks. It made Tommy shy away and shuffle back behind Sam, who was now also just wearing socks.

 Phil gestured for them to follow him. “The kitchen is right this way.”  

 As they walked a few paces towards an open walkway, Tommy glanced around. To the right of the front door was a single white door, he assumed it led to the garage from the cold air that drafted from it, further to the right was a walkway that seemed to lead to a family room of some kind. There were more rooms beyond that. Tommy looked up to see a sparkling chandler, a beautiful gold against all the dark tones of the house, and an overhang to the upstairs. In front of him were the stairs. They were a dark brown to match the rest of the house but a detailed blue, grey, and white carpet went up each step. To the left was a living room where he caught sight of a man with long, straight, bubblegum pink hair reading silently. 

 The man looked very relaxed and content, all his attention went to his book, which rested in his hand on his crossed leg. His foot bounced gently as the consistent ticking of a clock continued. Tommy’s staring came to an end when the man's foot stilled. He looked up from his book, beginning to stare straight back at Tommy, looking understandably uncomfortable as Tommy went beat red while he stared into his brown amber eyes. Tommy turned away and hurried after Sam and Phil.

 Phil was now looking through an upper cabinet while Sam was seated at an island stool. He had paperwork in front of him, which made Tommy’s face turn sour. If there was one thing to turn Tommy’s mood over, it was paperwork. Not just any paperwork. His paperwork. You know. The ones that remind him he is nothing but an object to be passed from person to person for the rest of his childhood.

 Grumbling, he took a seat next to Sam on a stool closet to the exit.

 “Do you have any tea preferences, Thomas?” Phil asked, looking over as he set a jasmine and raspberry tea bag into two of the three matching greyish brown mugs.

 Tommy looked down to fiddle with his hands again. “D-Do you have peppermint?” He glanced up to Phil, who beamed at him.

 “We do! It’s Wil’s favorite.” Phil said as he pulled down a green box from the cupboard, taking out another tea bag and putting it in a cup. Just as he did so, the green tea kettle on the stove began to unleash a piercing whistle that seemed to just shove its way straight into Tommy’s brain. He flinched, covering his ears.

 “Sorry ‘bout that mate.” Phil apologized as he took the kettle off the heat. 

 When the ugly sound came to an end, Tommy took his hands off his ears and settled on shoving them back into his pockets. “It’s fine.” He mumbled.

 Phil gave him a knowing glance before turning his attention back to the tea. As he prepared, a new presence entered the room. Tommy looked over to see it was the pink haired guy from earlier.

 After he gave Tommy a blank look, he walked over to Phil. He was much taller than Phil and he began to reach over him wordlessly, opening the cabinet Phil was just looking through earlier. After some shuffling, he pulled out two tea bags and two more cups.

 “Is Wil planning on coming down soon?” Phil asked the other gently as he picked up two of the cups in each hand. Turning around, he kindly handed one to Tommy with another small smile, and then the other to Sam, who was still silently looking over papers.

 Staring cautiously at the golden drink, he took a wary sip. It was a bit hot, but by Hades! It was made just right, with the perfect amount of sugar, milk or whatever he used! Tommy loved it. Phil gives him a sparkly eyed grin, before turning his attention back to the other man. 

 The pink-haired man shrugged, taking the tea kettle and pouring water into both cups. “I think he’ll come down at dinner.” His voice was a deep and grumbly one, lined with a thick american accent. Tommy couldn’t help but choke on his tea. His voice honestly caught him off guard! But don’t get him wrong, the man's face was rough as ever and those eyes could kill gods, but the pink hair makes him look a bit soft.

 All eyes were on him for a moment as his cheeks went bright red. He swallowed the rest of the minty tea and wiped at his mouth with his sleeve. He looked away in embarrassment.

 Sam just gave him the most confused look before turning back to his papers when he realized he wasn’t dying.

 “You alright mate?” Phil asked with a small, slightly concerned laugh.

 “Y-Yeah, sorry, just-” He looked up at the pink haired man who was staring confused. Tommy shook his head. “Never mind.”

 The man's face shifted from a confused expression to an offended one before Phil and him shared a look before the former shrugged, his face lighting up again.

 “Oh! Introductions! Thomas, this is my eldest son Techno! Techno, this is Thomas”

 When they made eye contact once again, Tommy failed to suppress a surprised snort of laughter as more tea dribbled down his chin. Sorry but- What kind of a name is Techno? He thought with another snort as Sam gave him a hard glare.

 “Thomas Innit.” He snarled. Though Sam's anger seemed nothing compared to Techno's.

 Tommy watched as his eyes seemed to start from a shining, dark amber to a light, crimson red. “You have a problem with my name, kid?” He growled. Remember how his eyes could kill gods?

 Tommy stilled, frozen in fear while his mind did the opposite. I messed up. Oh shit, I really messed up. This guy is going to kill me! So much for a good first impression. His mind kept reeling until a laugh bubbled from behind him. His thoughts froze as he looked back.

 “Come on, leave the kid alone Tech. It is a pretty weird name to most.” Another tall man with a mop of curly brown hair stepped through the kitchen walkway. He wore dark grey sweatpants with some kind of band shirt tucked into it. On the bridge of his long-crooked nose, was a pair of rounded, rectangle glasses.

 Techno’s eyes seemed to dull again before he scoffed, grabbing one of the mugs and thrusting it into the other's hands. “You’re one to talk, Mr. Wilbur Soot Watson. ”

 The brunette gave an offended gasp. “My name is NOT weird!”

 Tommy stared silently as Wilbur leaned into Techno dramatically. The other just rolled his eyes before leaning back into his brother. Wilbur took a swig of his drink, turning his attention to Phil who sighed. 

 “Thomas, this is my second son. Wilbur.” Tommy looked over to Wilbur, who waved while giving him a small, slightly strained, smile. 

 Tommy gave a small wave back before Sam cleared his throat, grabbing Phil’s attention. The older blonde walked around the island, sitting beside Sam. Setting his drink to the side, Phil pulled the papers in front of himself, skimming over the paragraphs of meaningless words. Sam muttered pointless explanations Tommy didn’t care enough to listen to. After, Phil nodded before signing the bottom with his full name.

 Sam smiled, shuffling the papers back into a neat stack before spinning in his seat to face Tommy. “Will you be good this time?” He asked with an amused grin.

 Tommy caught on and gave a small smirk, accompanied by a shrug, “You know I always do Sam.”

 Rolling his eyes before standing up, Sam pulled Tommy into a soft hug.

 After a few moments, Tommy hugged back. “Call me if you need anything. Okay?” Tommy nodded into his shoulder.

 Taking a step back with his arms still on Tommy’s shoulders, Sam gave the boy one last reassuring smile. “Welp, I’ve got quite the ride ahead of me.” Sam turned to the three men that stood awkwardly off to the side. “Take good care of him. He may be a little shit but he’s got a big heart.” Tommy squawked as his hair was ruffled. “I’ll come check on you in a few weeks.”

 When Tommy felt the threat to his hair leaving, he looked up. But before Tommy could even say goodbye, Sam was already gone.

~~{o0o}~~

:D :) XD

Chapter Text

Alleviating

 The carpet silenced their steps as Tommy was being led upstairs by Phil. As they ascended, he could feel the soft squish of the carpet through the hole in the bottom left heel of his sock.

 Reaching the top of the stairs, his curiosity spiked when he saw there was another overhang diagonal to the one connected to the stairs.

 He looked over the edge of the dark wood railing to be met with what looked like a giant game room. In the center of the room was a large, grey and turquoise, L-shaped couch. There were many colorful and unique throw pillows scattered about it with a few lingering on the floor. Tommy took notice of the blankets over the back of the leather couch, some soft and fuzzy while others were knitted.

 A large, flat screen TV covered the majority of the far wall. Blinking game consoles hummed under said TV, accompanied by many controllers. Currently, quiet gym equipment was all in the far right corner on top of a padded rug. Large shelves were everywhere, filled with board games, and console games. Tommy was almost bitter about the fact several of said games were open and discarded on the brown coffee table in the middle of the room.

 His criticism was cut short. “Ah, my boy's favorite place in the whole house. We often have family nights there. I’m excited for you to join us!” Phil said from beside Tommy.

 Tommy tries to swallow his guilt. Phil sounds genuinely excited to spend time with him when Tommy honestly can’t feel the same way. Sure, Phil seems nice now, but that could change at a moment's notice. He isn’t planning on getting close to this family, no matter how pleasant they seem. He’s made that mistake too many times before.

 It frustrated him dearly when he was younger. He would come into someone's home, would receive nothing but love and kindness, and just as he’s praying for them to adopt him, tell him they love him, and that they’ll never let him go. That’s when he would find himself sobbing his eyes out in the back of Sam's car. He didn’t understand. Who could do that? They seemed so kind, loving even! What did he do wrong? What's wrong with him?

 Phil’s voice pulled him out of his thoughts. “Your room is right over here, Thomas.”

 “It’s Tommy.” Tommy froze in place, bracing himself to be rejected, scolded or even yelled at.

 Phil stopped, turned to him and smiled, “Thank you for telling me, Tommy.” As Phil turned to the right of the staircase and began walking down the hallway. Tommy stared for a moment, biting his bottom lip, before following.

 He continued to look over the edge of the overhang as they walked. They passed a light brown door.

 “That is the first upstairs bathroom, Wilber usually uses this one ‘cause it's right next to his room.” He pointed to the door right beside it. He nodded in response telling himself he would avoid that bathroom like the plague. No use starting problems by being in the way.

 After a few paces, they stopped in front of the final door. The hallway continued further.

 Pulling down the gold handled door knob, Phil pushed the door open revealing a very comfortable bedroom of decent size. “This is your room.”

 Taking a step inside, he looked around the cream colored walls. There was a large window with drawn back grey-brown curtains on the far wall with a quant view of the front driveway. Tommy could easily slip onto the roof via the window if he had to. In front of said window was a generous brown wood queen size bed. Tommy just wanted to faceplant into the depths of that plush, grey comforter and matching grey and white pillows. After a few short moments, that's exactly what he did.

 After letting his backpack fall to the ground carelessly, he shoved his face into the soft center pillow, gripping it tight in his fingers as all the previous tense muscles, emotions and thoughts seemed to melt away to who knows where.

 Phil chuckled, “Comfortable?”

 He blushed before nodding into the pillow. Tommy won’t admit it but he kind of forgot Phil was there, just for a moment.

 When Tommy peeked from the pillow, with his wavy, blonde hair a mess, he turned to face Phil, who gave him a fond smile. “I’m glad mate. I’m gonna go make dinner. You're welcome to join me downstairs, stay here or even just go explore and get familiar with the place. It can seem a bit big at times.” He laughed to himself and turned to leave when Tommy gave a silent nod. Before he got far, he paused and turned back around as Tommy pulled at one of his curls. “Do you have any allergies or allergy medication I need to get?”

 Tommy shook his head no.

 “Alright. I’ll send one of the boys to get you when the food is done.” Tommy just nodded again.

 The door clicked shut behind Phil.

 Looking around the room again, Tommy looked to the right where a matching desk and wardrobe sat side by side. Tommy swung his legs off the bed and walked over to the desk, pulling out the black spinning chair and standing in front of it.

 He looked across the desk. In the far left corner, there was a small desk lamp with a bluish, grey shade, accompanied by a black pencil holder and sharpener. In front of him was what looked like a welcome basket. It was a reddish brown with a blue ribbon tied in a bow on the handle. In the basket was a bunch of bathroom supplies, a few fidget and stress toys, along with a notebook and pen. On top of it all was a little note.

 Tommy’s eye brows rose as he picked up and opened the note.

“Hello Thomas,

We all welcome you to our humble abode! We are very 

excited and happy to have you here!

We cannot wait to get to know you and for you to get to know us.

Please make yourself comfortable!

-Phil”

 Tommy simply hummed before putting the note back in the basket. He had received a welcome basket only in one other home. That was when he was in house number five, at the ripe age of nine.

 He wasn’t too interested in the contents gifted to him. They were nice, good quality sure, he did need more toothpaste soon anyway. But Tommy was much more interested in what was under the basket. He lifted the basket and put it aside before his eyebrows rose.

 “What the shit?” Tommy muttered as he picked up a sleek black laptop. It looked brand new, not a dent or finger print in sight. “Someone musta’ left this in here.” He said to himself as he turned towards the door on a mission to return the lost item.

 He really didn’t want to be blamed for a missing item, not to mention an expensive one, on his first day. He’s trying to make a decent impression here.

 Making his way outside and walking back down the carpeted hall, Tommy could hear muffled voices downstairs.

 Turning the small corner, Tommy started down the stairs, all while taking each step with a bit more caution. He did not want to drop this thousand dollar plus laptop all because of his carelessness. Techno seemed to already hate him enough, he didn’t plan on tripling his anger or pissing off the other two. He was trying not to die.

 Once he took the last step, he gave a small sigh of relief before continuing. From what he could hear, it only seemed like two people were in the kitchen. He already knew Phil was there, but there were two people talking. Sounded like that Wilbur guy.

 Taking a small peek inside, Tommy silently watched for a moment as Wilbur was animatedly talking about something that sounded like-  Anteaters? from the third island stool. He couldn’t tell what he was saying. It was all so random. Techno was leaning up against him, reading a book that looked like the same one from earlier. A concerned looking Phil was busily working over a stove.

 “Mate, they're just Anteaters. What are you on about?” Phil asked, his brows knit together in pure concern.

 “They are vile demons Phil! Don’t let them deceive you! They’ll fuckin- huh?” Techno pulled at Wilbur's sleeve. When he had his attention, he wordlessly pointed a thumb over his shoulder to a now frozen Tommy. “Oh.”

 “Ah! Hello Tommy! Care to join us?” Phil asked while wiping his hands down on a blue hand towel, before returning it to hang over the oven handle.

 Tommy gripped the laptop tighter. “Oh, I um.” He swallowed, “I found this. In the room I’m staying in!” He added quickly. “I mean. . . and wanted to return it.” He stuck the laptop out in front of him.

 “No need to, it's already returned.” Wilbur responded, dramatically popping a grape into his mouth. Now that just confused him.

 “What do you mean?” He pulled the laptop back towards his chest, walking over to the island, which was covered in bowls, minced vegetables on a few cutting boards with different sized knives resting on them.

 Phil gave him a pinched expression “Mate, that’s yours.”

 That just confused him even more.

 “What.”

 “Kid, you're going to high school, you're gonna want a laptop. Whether you use it for schooling or not, that's up to you. We honestly couldn’t care less.” Techno finally spoke, flipping a page in his book.

 After giving Techno a hard glare, which Tommy doubted he saw, Phil gave a reassuring look, resting his elbows on the island in front of him. “I thought giving you a laptop would be a good idea. Like Techno said, you’ll be going into your freshman year of Highschool, which is honestly already hard enough.” Phil said with a laugh. “Having a laptop makes it just a bit easier. Plus! Since during summer break, you’ll need some way to spend your free time, right? I got Netflix, Hulu, Disney+ all signed in, ready for you to make your own account. A few audio and eBooks downloaded in case you're into that stuff, and I even got you set up with a Steam account with some games installed for ya.” Tommy froze and his mind s c a t t e r e d.

 What the fuck?! What the actual fuck?! Who are these people?! What is this house?! Who just gives this to some random, fourteen year old, acne ridden child?! How much money did they spend on this? Is he gonna be forced to pay them back? Are they going to hold this over his head? This is a joke. This has to be some cruel, cruel , joke. Any second now they’ll all burst into laughter and call him an idiot and other foul names for believing such an obvious lie . Cause who in their right mind would give him , Tommy Theseus Innit, a laptop? And a good one at that?!

 But it never came. They just stared at him. Even Techno had his book closed in front of him, watching Tommy give the most dumb founded look when he saw that they were serious.

 Holy shit. They're serious!

 Tommy clutched the laptop in his arms tighter, failing to stop his hands from shaking. He took a step back as his chest tightened. Everything around him became white noise as his vision clouded.

 Too much, too much, too much, too much, Too Much, Too, Much, TOO MUCH, TOO MUCH, TOO MUCH--

 A faint snapping noise filled his ears. He blinked. He was hyperventilating. Holy shit he couldn’t breathe. When was he sitting on the floor? His vision started clouding again. He didn’t know what was happening.

 He heard the snapping a bit clearer, he looked to where it was coming from. He was facing a crouching Techno. They made eye contact. “Thomas. Focus on my voice.”

 Tommy swallowed, before going back to try and catch his breath. Techno continued, not breaking eye contact. “Good. You’re doing fine. Can I touch your hand?”

 That was clearly the wrong thing to ask. Tommy’s scared, blue eyes widened while his body shook as he violently shook his head, starting to desperately scoot away from the pink haired man.

 “Alright, alright. I won’t touch. It was worth a shot.” He muttered the last part. “Okay, uh. I want you to name five things you can see.”

 After making a confused huff, Tommy freezes as he starts to glance around. “What. . .?”

 “Just- Trust me. Name five things you can see. Anything in the room.”

 “I-I, uh.” He swallowed again as his eyes darted around. He focused on Techno’s long, pink hair as it dangled from his head. “Y-Your h-h-hair.” Tommy looked down. “My ha-nd.” He paused, “Laptop. The kitchen tile.” He looked back up at Techno “Y-Your eye-s.”

 He nodded, “Good. Now name four things you hear.”

 Tommy blinked as he focused on the soft bubbling coming from the stove “Bubbles. My breaths.” He looked around, “Y-Your voice. Wilbur’s. . . sh-uffling.”

 That seemed to make Wilbur freeze. Techno smiled, taking a more comfortable spot on the ground in front of him, crossing his legs. “Now, three things you feel.”

 Flexing his fingers, he loosened his grip on the laptop “The laptop. My hoodie. The floor.”

 “Two things you smell.”

 He took a deep breath, “Some kind of. . . Pasta?” Techno nodded so he continued “And. . . strawberries.”

 “And finally, one thing you taste.”

 Moving his tongue around his mouth he shrugged, “Just spit . . . Big Man.” Techno's face scrunched up at the nickname as Wilbur snorted from behind him.

 “You feel better?” He asked slowly, breaking eye contact to stare at Tommy’s nose.

 After a moment of staring at his, almost, warm gaze, Tommy looked down at his knees. He did feel better. He never felt better after an anxiety attack. His mind would still be running a mile a minute, plagued with dizziness, his breathing would still be uneven and shallow, and most of all, he would be anything but calm. But at that moment, Tommy could confidently say, he felt calm.

 “What. . .?”

 Glancing up from the floor, Tommy’s eyes met with Phil’s blues. Techno has disappeared behind Phil. A glass of water was offered to Tommy.

 “I’m sorry about that mate, that was a bit too much for your first day, wasn’t it?” Phil asked. Tommy let go of the laptop and reached for the glass, gripping it with shaky hands.

 He just shrugged dumbly, too flabbergasted to really answer. Now thinking about it, he probably wasn’t going to be given the laptop now that he made a huge deal out of it. Oh well.

 “I’m sorry about that. You’re welcome to take a seat and wait with us.”

 In all honesty, Tommy just wanted to go back and hide in the guest room, but he knows better. Most foster parents want you to stay present and social, unless Phil ended up as one of the foster parents who only wanted him for the money. Then Phil would want him hidden in the back of the house. Tommy would take his chances and stay here.

 He flinched when a sharp beep went off. Followed by another, then another, it kept going.

 Phil looked over his shoulder, before standing with a small grunt, swiftly making his way towards the stove. Another timer was set after stirring noodles in a large silver pot. “Dinner will be ready in five minutes.”

 Tommy glanced over to the far side of the island by Wilbur, where two more open seats were. After setting the laptop on the island, he sat down on the farthest seat, taking small sips of water.

 “Well that was faster than I thought it’d be.” Wilbur said, scrolling through his phone.

~~{o0o}~~

 Dinner was a lot nicer than Tommy thought it would be. Awkward, but nice. Though he’s used to the awkward part. Having some strange kid at your table isn’t exactly comfortable. He had an old foster sister scream at him in the middle of breakfast for being quote, “Too quiet.” Yeah, they didn’t get along well.

 They didn’t talk about much at the table. It was mostly Wilbur blabbing about college and what he did with his friends that day, with Phil trying, and failing, to get Tommy to join the conversation.

 After asking to be excused, he put his plate in the sink, thanking Phil for the meal, and began to head to the room he was staying in.

 Tommy was ready for this day to be over. It was already too long. It started out fine. Waking up, messing around with Dante, eating breakfast, before he was basically slapped in the face by yet another family. Then, sitting anxiously in a car for two whole hours only to find out he’ll be staying in a completely disconnected house in the middle of nowhere. He meets three emotionally confusing people, lent a stupidly nice room and a laptop that sent him into an anxiety attack, then helped by one of said emotionally complicated people. Yeah. Tommy was ready to go to bed, but his wish was apparently not granted. Curse his rotten luck.

 “Tommy.” Tommy froze, one step out the doorway. Turning around, Tommy faced Phil, who was leaning over the island on his forearms. “I just want to let you know that you're more than welcome to stay downstairs and hang out with us. There's not really a ‘strict bedtime’ here and we’re all pretty big night owls, so we’ll all be up pretty late.”

 Tommy mentally cringed. Great, he couldn’t get a break from these guys, could he? Though, he was also quite grateful. The worst houses were always the ones with strict bedtimes. The ones where you were sent to bed before the sun even set, phone taken away, checked on throughout the night. The worst.

 “Uh, okay.” Tommy gave Phil a weak smile before unclenching his fists and turning to walk away again. He caught a glimpse of Phil’s gentle smile as he disappeared around the kitchen wall.

 Walking up the quiet steps, Tommy pondered whether he should explore the house more, but he quickly shut that idea down. He was tired. Too much had already happened. He didn’t want to run into and risk more conversation, or even conflict, with one of the housemembers. So Tommy played it safe and kept walking. Turning the corner, he had his eyes set on the dark brown door that led to the unbelievably soft bed he was allowed to barrow.

 Tommy felt the tips of his finger go cold as he pushed down on the door handle, opening the door. His beating heart immediately slowed as the gentle warmth of the bedroom surrounded him. It almost reminded him of his old bedroom back home.  Big windows like the ones that lead to his old, wooden play fort, a big soft bed in the middle of his room. He could almost imagine all his old stuffed toys stacked behind his red pillows. As Tommy flopped down onto the bed, he imagined the plush comforter was a familiar, soft maroon with pretty white stars scattered about instead of the boring grey. Rolling over, Tommy stared at the ceiling as he imagined his old, glowing, green stars spread across the ceiling.

 He wondered if his room stayed the same after all these years. Maybe his father at least cared enough about him to still keep a bit of him inside their old home.

 Time seemed to speed up as he jumped down the rabbit hole of thoughts. Before he knew it, the room had gone dark.

 Glancing up at the window over the bed, Tommy didn’t care enough to be surprised when he saw sparkling stars shine through the midnight sky. He wondered if he should bother getting dressed for the night.

 Sitting up with his feet dangling over the edge of the now familiar bed, Tommy realized his past self made the decision for him. As much as Tommy couldn’t sleep, he liked to be comfortable while he stared at the dark abyss of the room. And jeans, were not comfortable.

 So, begrudgingly, Tommy stood and felt his way over to where he assumed the light switch was. After a bit of fumbling in the dark, his fingers gripped the switch before he flicked it on with a soft click .

 Squinting as light flooded the room, Tommy immediately dived for his red backpack, ignoring the zipper once again, starting to rummage through it. 

 He sucked in a sharp, hissed breath when a familiar ripping sound came from the rapidly growing hole in the top of his bag.

 Damn it Tommy, you need to be more careful. He scolded himself as he pulled out a pair of black and green basketball shorts along with his phone and headphones.

 Tommy stood, throwing his bag into the far left corner. It sagged in on itself as it landed.

 Setting his shorts and phone on the bed beside him, Tommy began to slip out of his jeans along with his socks before he climbed into his shorts. He didn’t bother changing out of his hoodie. He didn’t see the point. As he pulled them up to his waist, he didn’t take notice in the way his shorts came well above his knees.

 After chucking his old clothes over with his bag, the blonde flicked the light switch down, turning out the lights once again.

 Grabbing his phone, he crawled onto the bed. He slid under the thick, warm covers, curling in on himself. Bringing his knees to his chest, he put in his headphones and began to listen to the powerful lyrics of his treasured music.

 He was glad for this day to finally be over.

~~{o0o}~~

:D :) XD

Chapter Text

Expectations vs. Reality

 Tommy was greeted by the crisp morning sun beaming brightly through the bedroom window. Slowly blinking away the little amount of sleep from his foggy, blue eyes, Tommy stretched. With his arms reaching above his head, taking his headphones with them, he stretched his legs away from him. Gurgling something unintelligible, Tommy rolled over on his side, pulling the rumpled covers back over his shoulder.

 He sighed as he groggily stared at the desk that he was now facing. His mind went back to last night’s laptop incident. Tommy wondered how much he could’ve actually done on that thing. He found reading enjoyable. What books could he have read? Tommy’s only seen a few movies and a few clips of shows here and there. What could he have watched? He remembered an old foster sister, who used to let Tommy watch her play video games like Call of Duty, and Fallout. What could he have played? Closing his eyes, Tommy didn’t bother worrying about it anymore. He wasn't going to be able to use it now anyways. Thanks to his antics, he could kiss that gift goodbye. Surprisingly though, Tommy found he didn’t really care all that much. Sure it was disappointing, but he got along just fine without it before. He’ll be fine now.

 Listening to the faint chirps and whistles of birds outside, Tommy looked down to check the time on his phone. He grumbled when he was greeted to a black screen. He really should have expected this.

 Tommy lifted himself from the comfort of the thick blankets and began to drag his feet across the pale carpet towards his bag. Kneeling down by the right side of the bed, Tommy pulled out his old, black charger and plugged it into the wall beside the side table. After his phone began to slowly charge on top of the table, he stood and headed to the door.
He rested his hand on the cold handle before taking a deep breath.

 Be calm, be kind, be polite. Stay out of their way, stay quiet. Tommy rehearsed in his head. After taking another deep breath, he took the step of courage, opening the door. Making his way down the hall, he headed towards the kitchen.

 Keeping his head down, he took the last few steps down the stairs. The sun brightened the whole house in a gentle golden hue, not a single light was on but all was still visible. As for sound, Tommy would say the house was a peaceful quiet for the most part, minus the general buzz coming from the kitchen and living room. Soft, hushed conversations and the sizzling of foods cooking, it was like a busy library, occupied and moving, but still generally peaceful and-

 “GOD FUCKING DAMNIT TECHNO!!” Tommy’s head snapped up towards the living room as his eyes widened in terror. He grabbed the rail with a white knuckle grip as the yelling continued. “I fucking TOLD you that was the wrong way! Now we’re all the way back at spawn with literally nothing to our names.”

 Techno’s voice was like honey compared to Wilbur’s screams. “It’s really not that big a deal.”

 “WHAT DO YOU MEAN NOT THAT BIG OF A DEAL ?!?! It’s a HUGE DEAL!!” Tommy began to retreat up the stairs with slow, backward steps, his eyes never leaving the living room entry. “Prime, I can’t believe I’m forced to work with you,” Wilbur grumbled.

 “That’s your own fault for getting banned from the server,” Techno replied simply.

 “IT ISN'T MY FAULT DREAM IS A PRICK!!”

 Tommy finally reached the top of the staircase again. His heart was going a million miles an hour, he could hear and feel his blood rushing and pounding in his ears, he felt like his legs were going to buckle and collapse under him.

 He had no idea what they were talking about but at this moment, he really isn’t too worried about that as he ducked into the right hallway beside him. Sweat dripped from his forehead as he pressed his back to the wall while his mind searched for what to do.

 Should he stay or run? Should he stay or hide? Should he stay or investigate? Stay or go. Stay or go. Stay. Or. Go.

 “Alright, alright you two. Please, don’t start war on each other.” Phil's voice came floating through the house as he scolded his boys.

 “ Oh, dear Father , war has already begun.” A shiver shot down Tommy’s spine from the clear malice in Wilbur’s voice.

 “You act as if we’re on separate sides. We’re on the same side. Remember?”

 Wilbur scoffed.

 “Okay, okay, turn off the damn game. Breakfast is ready,” Phil said. “Techno, can you go wake Tommy?”

 The blue eyed boy froze.

 Wilbur snickered as Techno sighed, “Yeah, sure. Also, is Tommy what he likes to go by?” 

 Tommy’s whole body shook as he heard Techno get up from what he assumed was the couch. Where does he go? What should he do?!

 “Yeah, he told me yesterday. Didn’t I tell you both about that?” Phil asked.

 “Probably, I didn’t care enough to listen.” Wilbur stated. Tommy probably would’ve been offended if it weren't for the fact he was panicking out of his mind.

 “Wilbur. We’ve talked about this. Please, get over yourself and be kind to the boy.” Tommy honestly had a hard time envisioning Phil glaring or giving any angry look at all, especially right at this moment, but he could at least sense Phil’s frustration.

 “I have been kind! I saved his ass from Techno. I even smiled at him!” Wilbur argued.

 “Wil-”

 Techno cut him off, “Stop arguing about it. For all we know he could be listening to this conversation right now.”

 Tommy held his breath as he felt a single pair of eyes on him. Then one became two. Then two became three.

 Taking a deep breath, Tommy peeled himself from the wall and leaned on the top of the staircase banister on his forearms, giving his best smile. “Mornin’ fellas. How’d y'all sleep? ‘Cause I slept great.” He could see Wilbur roll his eyes as he walked into the kitchen.

 “Morning mate, glad you slept well. Ready for some breakfast?” Phil asked with a kind, patient smile.

 Tommy nodded, beginning to come back down the staircase once again.

 So much for going unnoticed.

 Following Techno into the kitchen, Tommy took the opportunity to really take in the pink hair in front of him. It was long, it reached to around the man's lower back. It shined in the morning light as it swung left and right as they both walked. It looked really healthy for obviously dyed hair.

 Tommy’s admiration was cut short when Techno took a seat at the kitchen island and started to pull his hair up into a low, messy bun.

 Wilbur took a seat next to his brother. “Hey Dad, what’s for breakfast?” He asked, pulling out his phone.

 Phil responded as Tommy took the farthest to the left, keeping a space between him and Wilbur. “Just some simple blueberry pancakes and bacon.” A soft hiss came from the sizzling pan as Phil flipped a piece of bacon with a small pair of silver tongs.

 Tommy froze when Phil looked over his shoulder to him. “I hope you don’t mind, Tommy. If you don’t like pancakes or bacon, I’ll keep that in mind for future reference.” 

 Tommy jerkily looked up with his brows raised, “O-Oh, I don’t really care what you give me. I’m not picky.” He looked back down, staring down at the shiny, smooth counter. Tommy fiddled with his fingers nervously. 

 He began to pick at a particular hangnail on his first finger as Phil simply hummed and placed a porcelain plate in front of him. As the blue and white plate filled his vision, he blankly stared at the golden stack of three, fluffy pancakes sided with two pieces of crispy, juicy bacon. And if it looked good, the smell was simply mouthwatering. 

 Tommy breathed in the nice smell. In all honesty, it had been awhile since he had pancakes. He wasn’t upset with the warm meal he had been given.

 Looking up at the other blonde across the island, he thanked him when he was passed a silver fork as a clear glass of orange juice was slid over to him.

 While the butter, syrup and other condiments and fruits were passed down the train of people, Tommy fiddled with the fork he was handed. He twirled the bit of metal in between his fingers, rolled it over his palms, spinning it around a few times.

 “Can you stop doing that?” Wilbur snipped.

 He immediately stopped his fiddling and set his fork on the plate with a  clink. “Sorry.” He said quickly, putting his hands in his lap and froze, waiting for his share of toppings.

 Wilbur rolled his eyes as he passed the butter and syrup to him.

 Giving a small thank you, Tommy began to dress his pancakes with a minimal amount of butter and syrup as the room shifted into a semi-comfortable silence.

 Enjoying their meals, Techno and Wilbur talked about Prime knows what while Phil seemed to just listen silently, but Tommy couldn’t tell. He was nearly invisible behind Wilbur and Techno’s hunched over forms.

 As he picked at his pancakes, Tommy couldn’t help but find himself a little upset or maybe disappointed. Just a little bit. After three spots taken by him, and the brothers, two spots were left, one to the left of him, and one next to Techno on the opposite side of him. Obviously, Phil had gone for the one next to his pink haired son, leaving Tommy physically excluded from the family. He didn’t blame Phil, not in any way shape or form, for sitting next to his son, and away from him. But it was still a subtle and effective reminder he was doomed to be an outcast for the rest of his life.

 Sighing as quietly as he could, he began to dig into his thick stack of pancakes. He pushed the side of the fork into a small portion of the pancakes, breaking a piece away from the rest of the stack with little struggle.

 Using the prongs of the utensil, he poked through the top of the piece of pancake and scooped it into his mouth. Tommy’s shoulders drooped when the fluffy mixture rested on his tongue. Chewing with a little more purpose and enjoying every bite, Tommy’s meal was gone in a matter of minutes.

 After shoveling the last bit of pancake and bacon in his mouth, he turned towards the rest of the family to see he wasn’t the only one finished.

 While Wilbur was hunched over the sink, rinsing off his plate, Techno was standing up  from his chair, following after him. Tommy flinched at the sharp screech that came from the legs of the chair against the tiled floor. As Techno walked away, Tommy took note that Phil was still eating.

 Letting his bare feet touch the cold tile, Tommy was about to stand before he realized, he probably doesn’t share the same house rules as the older boys. He sat back down and turned towards Phil's general direction.

 “May I be excused?” Tommy asked quietly.

 Phil seemed surprised or even taken aback by Tommy’s question. Swallowing his food, Phil choked out a response, “O-Oh, yeah, you can just leave the table mate.”

 Nodding, Tommy stood and started to walk over to the sink as Techno was leaving. He jumped when his face ended up meeting Techno's chest.

 “S’rry.” Techno grumbled out before he scooted away and seemed to head upstairs.

 With his cheeks turning red, heating up with embarrassment, Tommy began to rinse off his plate and fork.

 As syrup and grease began to pour down the drain, Tommy heard another chair squeak as it was moved. Soon enough, Phil was standing beside him with his hip leaning against the counter. His dark blue eyes looked tired as he limply held his plate.

 When Tommy finished, he stepped aside and Phil took his place. As the faucet was turned on and water began to pour down the sink, Phil took the moment to speak to Tommy. “I was wondering if you would be okay with chatting with me for a bit?”

 Tommy simply stared with his hands in his hoodie. Leaning on the kitchen counter, his gaze fell to the floor as he simply hummed in acknowledgement.

 The room quieted as Phil turned the faucet off and set his plate quietly on top of the others. “I just want to go over some simple rules, expectations and all that boring crap so we can fall into a simple routine and get you comfortable. Did you see the basket on the desk?”

 Tommy nodded.

 Phil smiled at him, “Go ahead and get dressed and ready for the day. Feel free to come meet me in the living room when you're done, alright?”

 Tommy simply nodded again, before rushing out of the kitchen and back up the stairs.

 This was it, so far this house has been incredibly comfortable. Now he was going to figure out if it would stay this way or not. While his heart begged for this place to stay calm and peaceful, his mind knew better. Tommy knows things will change, he’ll be expected to be perfect and when he fails, his heart will be broken again and he will be sent away. Just like he always is.

 Pushing the bedroom door open, Tommy closed the door behind him and immediately went for his bag. He didn’t have to dig much to find and pull out a pair of old, black jeans and a yellow and white t-shirt.

 Tommy sat on his knees as he started to eye his shirt. He hated it. It was old, didn’t fit and had a long, red stain on the front of it. It was from a bloody nose he got around a year and a half ago. He doesn’t like thinking about how he got that in the first place.

 Tugging off his hoodie and shorts, he took his time pulling on his jeans and t-shirt. Prime, he feels so uncomfortable. He feels like a mummy from ancient Egypt with the way his clothes are tied and wrapped around him. It was suffocating and stiff. What he would do for new clothes, but he must be grateful. That's what he’s told anyway.

 He had half a mind to just change back into his hoodie, but he’s worn that old thing for the past two weeks. It’s far over due for a wash.

 Doing his best not to cringe at the tight clothes, he turned his attention to the basket on the desk.

 Shuffling his way around the bed, he pulled the black chair out of the desk again and-

 “What?” Tommy stared at the sleek black laptop resting in the middle of the desk. It looked just like it did yesterday. It almost seemed like it was taunting him, except there was a yellow sticky note on top of it.

Just keep the damn thing.

-Wilbur

 Tommy scowled at the scribbled note before he crumpled it in his fist and threw it over his shoulder. He didn’t care where it landed. He had half a mind to storm out and scream at the brown headed prick, giving him a piece of his mind, but he shook that oh so pleasing thought away. As much as he wanted to tell him to “piss off”, he knew better.

 Picking through the basket beside the laptop, he grabbed the deodorant and hair brush. He opened the deodorant with a soft pop as the powerful, sweet citrus of the deodorant filled his nose. He applied it before taking the hair brush and running it through his hair a few times.

 Putting the contents back in the basket, he took the toothpaste and toothbrush and started heading for the door.

 The door let out a soft creak as he closed it behind him again. Looking over the edge of the railing on the far side of the hallway, Tommy started thinking of where he could brush his teeth. There was no way he was using Wilbur's bathroom.

 After a bit of staring down at the game room, he looked to his right, where more undiscovered house was and began walking down the rest of the hallway.

 It didn’t take long for him to reach the end of the long corridor before it opened up into more doors and rooms. It was almost a narrow trapezoid shape with three doors on each wall except for where the railway was.

 Two of the dark wood doors were cracked open, the one on the right and the middle door. Peaking in the one on the right, he saw a white, grey and blue themed laundry room. There was a small, blind covered window in the middle of the far wall. To the right of the window, a humming washing machine and dryer were stacked on top of each other as they worked away. On the left of the window, were countertops covered in folded laundry, full and empty laundry baskets, and a sink.

 Guess I know where to do my laundry now. Tommy thought as he pulled his head back out of the doorway.

 Turning towards the second door, he pushed it open and was met with a small half bath.

 Sighing with relief, Tommy walked through the door and flicked the light on. After taking a few steps in, he closed the door behind him with his foot.

 Looking through the glass mirror, he was immediately drawn to the dastardly, dark bags hanging under his eyes. He grumbled and poked at them a bit before ignoring them to brush his teeth.

 After deeming his teeth clean, Tommy rushed back to his room. Throwing his new toothbrush and toothpaste on the bed, Tommy rushed down the hall and down the stairs to find Phil.

 The living room was brightly filled with sunshine as Tommy walked in. He was met with two loveseats facing the TV and to the left was Phil, sitting on a pastel blue couch under a window. He was silently reading a book with his legs pulled up onto the couch with a light blanket over his thighs. He looked comfortable and it was obvious he didn’t hear Tommy coming in.

 He stopped behind the side table in between the two loveseats, shuffling his feet. “Uhm. . .”

 Phil looked up from his book. “Oh! Hello Tommy!” The older blonde sat up, letting his feet meet the floor. “Go ahead and take a seat, get comfortable, feel free to use any of the blankets scattered around here. I like to have a few here and there.” He winked at Tommy before gesturing to the loveseats. “We won’t take too long, I promise.” He smiled as Tommy walked around the seats, sitting on the one farthest from Phil. 

 The small couch he sat on was a light green with white polka dots, while the one next to him was a dark purple with a tall back. It reminded him of an old chair from a past foster home. Their grandma always used it.

 He crossed his legs and started pulling at the cuffs of his jeans. He waited patiently for Phil to get comfortable and begin the execution.

 “Alright mate, I just wanna ask first, how have you settled in? Is there anything I can do for you? I know this was all kinda last minute for you.”

 Tommy simply shrugged. As much as his heart wanted to reach into that small amount of care, he just wanted this to be done and over with.

 After a bit of silence, Tommy started to panic. Did he want a verbal response!? Oh shit!

 “I-It’s been fine, I don’t need anything. Thank you for asking.”

 “Are you sure? Do you need more blankets? Pillows?” Phil responded slowly. Though his attention seemed to shift to his clothes. Tommy pulled his knees to his chest. “Do you need any new clothes? I’d love to take you clothes shopping sometime! You can find some clothes you like, some things for your room. We can even go out for lunch after!”

 Prime, did Tommy want that. He wanted it so bad, his heart screamed for it. The “Father, son” bonding time. Not to mention, he was dying for some new clothes. But he knew better. He’s not your father. You’re not his son. Don’t get attached.

 “Eh, I’m good. Don’t want you to waste your money on me.” Tommy shrugged nonchalantly with a half hearted laugh. His smile fell when he saw Phil's questioning look.

 “You sure about that mate? Even then, it wouldn’t be a waste, not on you.” Tommy couldn’t help his jaw from dropping a bit, just a little bit. He closed it right back up as Phil continued. “I’ll let you think about it for a bit. I work from home anyways so, as long as you knock, you're welcome to come find me in my office and we can go anytime really.”

 He simply nodded.

 “Now! Onto rules!” Tommy braced himself. “I don’t have many.”

 That’s what they always say. Tommy thought bitterly.

 Phil began, “First, simply have respect for me and the other members in the house.” He put up his pointer finger, “Knock before going into bedrooms, bathrooms and only enter if given permission. We all value privacy and you should too.” He put up two more fingers. “If you respect us, we will respect you.” 

 So far, that sounds pretty fair, and even amazing compared to other homes he’s stayed in. And if Tommy didn’t know better he’d fall for the all too tempting peace. But he's heard this rule a thousand times, it hardly ever gets followed, at least not towards him anyway. 

 Phil continued, “Please speak kindly, I don’t want too harsh insults thrown around, but I do know some things will be said, it's bound to happen eventually alright?”

 Tommy simply nodded. He fought back a deep frown. I’ll play nice if they do.

 “I don’t really care about cussing. I can’t really ban it if I'm a victim of a dirty mouth myself, just keep it limited and don’t be brash.” Phil at this point has stopped using his fingers.

 Eh, I’ll cuss when I want. Tommy did his best to hide his smirk.

 “Okay, onto chores.”

 Oh here we go.

 “I’ll only really ask you to do small things here and there, like load and empty the dishwasher, sweep the kitchen, nothing too big. All I ask is don't give too much attitude when asked okay?”

 Huh, that’s not half bad. He can’t promise about the attitude though, that beast is uncontrollable.

 “Hm, that should be all. . .” He paused like he was trying to remember some long forgotten thought. It must have come back to him because his back straightened and his face relaxed. “Oh! The forest!”

 The forest? Oh yeah, the forest that surrounds this whole house, this whole town and goes on for miles. Yeah. That forest.

 “Since you don’t know it well, I’m going to have to ask you to bring me, Techno or Wil if you want to go play out there.” Phil must have seen the utter disgust in Tommy’s face because he laughed and patched it up with, “They don’t have to be glued to your side, don’t worry. They just have to be around.”

 Tommy felt his shoulders relax. Don’t get him wrong, it wasn’t like he wanted to go out there. But in the small chance he did, he doesn’t want to be babysat. He’s Big Man Tommyinnit! He doesn’t need a babysitter.

 “It's pretty deep and gets really thick at times. Even I’ve gotten lost out there.” Phil chuckled and leaned back into the couch. “Just tell me if you want to go have fun and explore. There's a bunch of tree houses, a creak that seems to stretch on for miles. There’s a waterfall somewhere near the back of the woods, there's a lot to do. Techno and Wil spend a lot of time in the woods already. You just need to keep near them and you can spend hours back there.”

 Something seemed to come to Phil's mind, and he continued, “Curfew is 9:30, I’m not strict about it. If you're a minute or two late, I won't even notice. If you want to stay out later, just ask me and I’ll determine whether I'll let it slide or not. Lemme know when you're leaving and where you're going. Does that all sound fair?”

 It was a bit much to swallow but Tommy simply nodded again. It didn’t matter what he thought or what he had to say.

 “I know that was all a lot of information, but I’ll be writing it down on a piece of paper and putting it in the kitchen if you need it.”

 He nodded.

 “Alright Tommy, you're free to go, I’ll be in my office if you need me.” Phil gave one more smile before he slowly stood and began to walk upstairs.

 Tommy chose to ignore the fact he had no idea where Phil’s office was. So he sat there, fiddling with his fingers in comfortable silence. He wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do with himself. He didn’t have any chores to take up his free time. He was living in a house miles away from town. After a bit of pondering, he supposed he could go poke at the laptop, but honestly, he wanted that thing to be a last resort of boredom.

 Looking up from his hands, he began staring out the window. It lead to the front yard. He could clearly see the beginning of the forest from here.

 Curiosity began to spark as he pulled himself from the loveseat. He made his way over to the couch, his gaze not leaving the window as he leaned over the back of the couch. With interested eyes, he watched as a doe and her fawn made their way back into the woods.

 He wonders how long he could follow them.

:D :) XD

Chapter Text

Into The Deep

 Shooting up from the couch, Tommy made his way to the foyer. As much as he found Phil’s rules considerably “reasonable,” he was honestly bored out of his mind. How is he supposed to just sit here when there’s a whole forest, just for him, waiting to be explored? Plus, he really didn’t feel like dealing with “the brothers” right now. He never listened to house rules before, so why would he start now? If he wanted to explore the forest, he would, and he'd be back before they even noticed he’d gone.

 After glancing behind himself, Tommy grabbed his shoes from the floor, grimacing as he shoved them onto his bare feet. Ignoring the blisters that were most definitely beginning to form, he gave one last glance over his shoulder as he slowly began to turn the door handle.

 Carefully pulling the door towards himself, he silently celebrated when it opened with little to no noise.

 Glancing one more time back into the house, Tommy took a single step outside before he slowly closed the door behind him. When it latched shut, Tommy let himself breath and let loose. And let loose he did.

 Rushing down the porch steps, he leapt down two at a time. When he reached the bottom step, he swung to the right as he jumped over a short bush covered in yellow roses before sprinting towards the woods, ready to follow those deer for as long as he could.

~~{o0o}~~

 The forest was dark. Darker than Tommy thought it would be. Not that he cared or minded or anything. It wasn’t like he was scared. . .

 . . .

 Okay, maybe he was a bit on edge, but he wasn’t being irrational! It was a bit dark, and Phil wasn’t over-exaggerating when he said the forest was dense. The trees did seem a bit too close for comfort, but he knew all that beforehand! It was fine! He was fine.

 The leaves, branches and pines crunched and snapped under his feet as he continued. The wind was almost completely silent or even gone from what he could feel. All that grazed against his skin was tiny, warm, broken up bits of breeze pulling at his hair. It almost felt like it was whispering for him to leave, trying to push him away. Like he wasn’t wanted here.

 Shaking away the shiver that went down his spine, he kept walking. He honestly didn’t know what he was looking for at this point. He lost the deer he was following quite a while ago but he kept going. What was nice was the longer and longer he walked, the more and more his heart seemed to slow with each step.

 Once you looked past the too tall trees and too dark abyss, it was actually quite peaceful. It even had a bit of a magical feel to it, with many different colored mushrooms scattered around the forest floor, on top of and on the side of old, fallen trees as they were covered in sparkling wet moss. If Tommy let his imagination take control, magic seemed to touch every bit of tree bark, leaves and pine and every bit of moss covering the ground.

 Tommy stared at the colorful fallen leaves hiding the forest floor like a secret. There was a lot to look at and Tommy took his sweet time to take in each and every bit of it. So, he didn’t miss the moss covered ladder nailed to a large, chocolate brown pine tree.

 Tommy abruptly stopped and stared at the ladder. It blended in well. If he wasn’t paying attention, he would have missed it. Beside it was a weird elevator or lift sort of thing. It had a homemade feel, crafted of wood, metal, and rope. It looks large enough for two people to stand comfortably inside, four if you weren’t claustrophobic or a germaphobe. It was a strange thing to find in the woods.

 His gaze followed up the ladder and the rope of the lift, and he was slightly surprised to see a decently sized tree house at the top of it. Tommy didn’t forget Phil mentioning tree houses around here but he expected rickety little things. You know, the ones that have been there for way too many years than what it was built for, cheaply made out of random wood some dad had on him, ceiling much too short, meant for children. That kind of tree house.

 But that's not quite what he saw. Sure, it looked a bit old, moss touched a bit of everything but it was pretty big and from what he saw it was a lot more than just a box in a tree. More like a tiny house. It had a dark brown roof with yellow and orange lit lanterns hanging from the walls and eaves. On the balcony were colorful beanbags laying here and there with a picnic table off to the side with a yellow flannel blanket draped on top of it.

 He was about to start climbing up the ladder when he remembered this probably, most definitely, belonged to Wilbur or Techno. He really didn’t wanna stumble upon something he isn’t supposed to. But then again, when did he care about that? It’ll only take a second.

 Gripping the ladder, he began to climb. It was surprisingly high up. When he reached the top, he realized a trap door, that probably should have been closed, was kept open with a rope and hook nailed in the wall of the main house.

 The porch was really nice, very comfortable. There were three green, yellow and blue bean bags facing each other in front of the trap door. The picnic table to his left was decently sized and had a green and yellow glass vase full of flowers on it. The whole thing had a canopy roof over it protecting it from the elements.

 Hoisting his legs all the way up with him, Tommy went to the edge of the porch railing. He rested his elbows next to a gate, presumably an entrance for the lift, and looked around. It was a nice view, though it wasn’t anything he hadn’t already seen.

 Turning around towards the actual house, Tommy spotted the door right beside the trapdoor. It was a bit shorter than he thought it’d be. It was a light peanut brown like the rest of the house minus the frame, which was a darker brown. It had a round window in the top center of it with a large sign under it. Walking towards it, he read what was carved into the sign.

 “BeeBoy”

 Under was a carving of a fat, cartoon bee. It personally wasn’t his taste, but he wondered who the hell this “Bee boy” was. For a second he thought it might be a nickname for Wilbur or Techno, but he quickly threw that thought away.

 Staring at the door handle, he thought for a moment longer, pondering whether he should knock before entering or not. He figured he should take the first option.

 He knocked.

 . . .

 No response.

 . . .

 No one is home.

 . . .

 Great!

 Tommy gripped the warm handle and pushed the door open with a loud creak . What he saw surprised him.

 It was very open, with a rainbow of multicolored fairy lights strung around the ceiling. There were a lot of colorful pillows, blankets and more bean bags all around. There was even a small, L-shaped couch in the right corner under two windows just. . . swallowed in blankets, you had to squint to see that the actual couch was yellow. To his right was a bunch of shelves and counters filled with various items and trinkets from things like small gadgets, stuffed toys and even a ukulele. To his left was a table that Tommy started walking towards.

 It was an absolute mess. Metal pieces, red, blue and black wires along with other bolts and screws and pieces of metal covered the entire table. Under the mess of work was an open laptop. The only “clear” part of the table was surrounding a hunk of metal in the front area where a purple cushioned chair was pulled out. Many wires poked out of the computer like thing. It looked totally ripped apart. Tommy wondered what the owner was trying to accomplish.

 After another look around, Tommy found it best he left, he honestly didn’t want, nor cared, to find out who the owner was.

 A glance at a digital clock buried under the mound of metal on the table told him he’d been out for a good 30-40 mins. He figured he should head back before he gets caught.

 He made his way out the door, down the ladder and he began to make his way back to the house. It seemed it would be just as peaceful of a walk back as it was there. The sun was still peaking through the leaves and it was still peacefully quiet. But that gentle loving peace seemed to be stolen from his grip when the feeling of being watched crawled up his spine.

 Tommy stopped in his tracks and turned around. Nothing. There was nothing there. No one was there. He was safe.

 Still having the unsettling feeling clawing at his back, he turned back around and kept walking. The feeling lingered far too long for Tommy's comfort, but he kept going.

 His heartbeat rocketed when he heard a second pair of feet behind him.

 Ohhhh, holy shit, holy shit! What’s behind me?! Who’s behind me?! Tommy thought as his heart hammered against his chest. Not daring to look behind him, he started walking faster. 

 Whatever, whoever was behind him, sped up with him.

 What the hell?! What do I do?! Okay Tommy, stay calm Tommy. He sped up.

 It sped up too.

 After a bit he started running.

 It started running with him.

 He started sprinting.

 It went silent.

 Tommy dared to look behind him.

 And. . .

 . . .

 No one was there. There was nothing. Did he imagine it all?

 Tommy stopped running and turned all the way around. He looked across the small clearing he had stumbled into. There really wasn’t anything there.

 “What the. . .” He whispered under his breath. Did he really imagine it all?

 Minutes seemed to pass slowly and painfully and after what felt like hours, Tommy finally got the courage to turn back around to finish his journey.

 He couldn’t even take a single step before he was tackled to the ground.

 Tommy screamed as he was pushed onto the floor. He started thrashing and kicking and pushing to get whatever was on him off! Tommy didn’t stop screaming until he opened his eyes and his icy blues met a pair of steel ones.

 They both froze.

 On top of Tommy was a boy. He had umber brown hair, not much different to Wilbur’s, and blue eyes.

 They simply stared at each other for what felt like hours until the boy finally spoke.

 “Hi!”

 Tommy blinked.

 “Nice to meet you!” 

 Tommy’s brows furrowed. He suddenly exploded, “WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?!  Why the hell were you chasing me?!”

 He simply shrugged before responding, “I thought we were playing a game.”

 “W-wha- Why would I play a game of chase with a kid I never met ?!” Tommy sputtered.

 The boy shrugged again before picking himself back up and reaching a hand out for Tommy to take, “I dunno, I thought it was fun.”

 Tommy glanced at his offered hand for a moment before he immediately swatted it away. He picked himself up from the, surprisingly soft, forest floor and started brushing himself off.

 The brunette seemed to examine him for a moment, so Tommy took the opportunity to examine him as well. If he was gonna be rude, Tommy could be rude back.

 Wearing a rumpled, green button up, the boy had his shirt tucked in his blue, grass stained jeans. Dirt seemed to be touching every bit of him, from his cheeks, forehead, forearms, palms, to the tips of his fingers. He was also short, incredibly short. A good head shorter than Tommy.

 He must not have hit his growth spurt either, Tommy hypothesized as they kept staring at each other.

 The boy’s brown hair shined yellow against the small spots of sunlight peeking through the trees. He looked about Tommy’s age.

 “I don’t recognize you, are you new around here? I didn’t see any moving trucks,” the boy seemed to think out loud. “Where are you from?”

 Tommy glared, “Why should I tell you?”

 “Touchy subject?”

 “No, I just don’t know you.”

 “Oh! My bad!” He stuck out his hand, “My name is Tubbo!”

 Taken a bit of guard, it took a second for Tommy to wearily take his hand.

 “T-Tommy. . .” They shook hands.

 Tubbo nodded, “Nice to meet you Tommy. Where ya headed?”

 Tommy pointed behind Tubbo, “Just that way.”

 His eyes widened, “Oh! OH! Your Wilbur and Techno’s new brother, Thomas! Nice to meet the new Watson!”

 Tommy flinched, “Oh. They haven’t adopted me. I’m only staying here for a bit, then I’ll be on my way.”

 He watched as Tubbo gave him an indescribable look. “Yeah, sure. Anyways! Nice to meet you Tommy! I’ll see you tomorrow!”

 “Wait what-?”

 “Byee!”

 Then the boy was gone. Tommy watched as he disappeared behind colorful leaves and dark trunks, running back towards that weirdly nice treehouse.

 Tommy stared at the part of the woods that swallowed the boy. He was honestly so confused. Who was that kid? Where did he come from? Does he live around here? Is that treehouse his? Does he live in that treehouse?!

 Sighing, Tommy turned back around and made his way to the house.

~~{o0o}~~

 The house was still quiet when he made it back inside. He must have not been gone for as long as he thought.

 Slowly closing the door behind him, Tommy gladly started to pull off his shoes. He expects to see blisters in the next few hours. He wonders if his little exploration was worth it. Sure it all looked pretty cool, that tree house was something new. He met that boy, but his feet were gonna hurt like hell later.

 Picking up his shoes, he crouched down and put them next to a pair of black work boots. When he stood, he saw he wasn't the only one here.

 Silently walking down the final step of the staircase, was Techno.

 Shit.

 They made eye contact.

 . . .

 Techno simply shrugged and walked into the kitchen.

 Tommy back straightened. Huh, ether he’s incredibly dumb or he doesn’t care, he thought smugly as he started making his way upstairs. He’s keeping this in mind for later.

 At the top of the steps, Tommy started to make his way back to the guest room, before the gentle sound of music seemed to float down the hall. A guitar specifically. A single guitar was being strummed and plucked by a single, talented artist, filling the whole house with its tranquility as the artist seemed to effortlessly play.

 Abandoning his previous destination, he continued down the hall with careful steps.

 “I think this time I’m dying.” The artist sang with practiced eases.

 Tommy did his best to take in every note, string and technique he heard as he began to turn the corner, passing the laundry room and bathroom from earlier.

 “I’m not melodramatic, I’m just pragmatic beyond any-”

 He passed a door, he ignored it when all he heard from inside was silence. There was one more door on the right wall at the end of the hall. It was open.

 “-reasoning for thinking I’ve got fuckin’ rabies, or something.”

 The light was on. And the closer and closer he got, the more and more clear the music became, and the more and more Tommy felt he could listen to it for hours.

 “I think this time I’m dying. . .”

 He peaked in. It was a music room.

 “I think this time I’m dying.”

 Wilbur’s fingers swiftly threaded across the frets of the dark brown guitar as he strummed up and down the strings. With the occasional lick of the notes, he pulled it all together like beautiful, musical fabrics.

 Watching his fingers with pure interest, Tommy slowly slid down the wall crouching by the door.

 “I think I’ve lost my mind.”

 His singing gently continued and while Tommy would never admit it out loud, he welcomed all his graceful notes with open arms. The way Wilbur played was similar to how his mother would play the piano. Closed eyes, gentle and simple smiles gracing their lips, fingers moving quickly and expertly across notes and strings.

 “Blurring the facts and the fictions while simultaneously fix-ing, myself up, with a girl, named Panadol.”

 Burned into his memories was a song his mother would play for him and his father over and over again. Any free moment she had was spent in front of the piano’s keys. From dawn to dusk, she would play her beloved songs to him. When he was sad she played soft melodies, when he was happy she would play upbeat jazz and when they spent time as family she would play her favorite song on loop. After a bit of begging and time, she eventually taught him the song to finally play for himself. Tommy has it memorized to this day.

 “Bite the tablet, elixir disintegrate, mouth’s a mixer.”

 Music was a gift and a blessing in his life. But again, he would never admit that. People would finally discover his Achilles heel.

 “I think I’ve lost my mind. . .”

 It made him a tad bit jealous. That Wilbur could play so openly, so happily, without a care in the world. It would take a fool to not notice the passion he had for his guitar. It was almost like he had forgotten about the world in the first place.

 “I think I’ve lost my mind.”

 It wasn’t fair. Well, there’s another reason to avoid attachment. Petty jealousy.

 Standing again, Tommy didn’t bother hiding himself anymore when he began walking back to the room.

 As he turned the corner and towards the door, he could hear the music abruptly end. As he closed the door to the guest room, he could see a head of brown curls peeking out of the music room, staring straight at him.

~~{o0o}~~

:D :) XD

Chapter Text

The Crazy Bee, The Purple Monster and The Tall Freak

 The sun's rays shined brightly through the open window, pooling its honey gold light onto the pages of an old book Tommy had his eyes glued to. His mind ventured into the sea of word filled paragraphs while his eyes feasted on the epic action scene put in front of him.

 After waking from a familiar nightmare, eating some of Phil's amazing food, and doing some much needed laundry, Tommy decided to spend his third day at the Watson household reading. Mostly because he found this old book in the bottom drawer of the dresser and didn’t have anything better to do.

 Pulling another page back, Tommy spent his time really absorbing the silence of the house as he stared at the book's pages.

 Once everyone had enjoyed their breakfast, Phil had announced he was going to his office to work. The blonde had told Tommy that if he needed anything, that he was more than welcome to come knock on his door. Yeah, like that's gonna happen. Tommy would spend hours trying millions of useless things to get around his problems before he would ever go to Phil.

 Surprisingly enough, Tommy had actually found out where Phil’s office and room was yesterday night after dinner. His room was just the first door on the left down the left hall by the stairs. As for his office, it was just down the hall from the room he was staying in, two doors away from the music room.

 As for Techno and Wil, they said they were off to the woods for the day. Explained how they wouldn’t be back till midnight, ‘cause they were going to a fire pit with some friends to roast marshmallows or something. Phil had tried inviting Tommy to join them but he quickly turned that down. Not only because he definitely wasn’t interested, but who knew Wilbur had such a death glare. It was almost like he was daring him to say yes. Yeah. He wasn’t going to go even if he wanted to.

 Taking his sweet time, Tommy enjoyed his book as he let the blissful silence wash over him, only briefly interrupted by the gentle singing birds from the tall oak right outside the window.
That was all interrupted when his door was harshly flung open revealing the brown headed prick from yesterday. As the door gently bounced away from the wall, they silently stared at each other.

 After what felt like five solid minutes, Tubbo finally shatters the current unpleasant silence. “Hey! Nice to see you again! Let's go.”

 Wait what.

 Before he can do anything, Tubbo comes up to him, rips the book he was enjoying from his thin hands. Throwing it aside and tugging him to his feet, Tubbo begins to pull him towards the door.

 “Woah, woah! Where are we going Big Man!?” Tommy asks, trying his best to hide his growing panic, tugging away from his grip as he’s led down the hall towards the stairs. Prime, who knew a short, little brunette boy, could have such a grip. The only reason he wasn’t fully panicking was he knew he could pull out of the grip if he really tried. He’s been in a similar, less kind, situation before. He knows what to do. Whether that's a good or bad thing is up for others to decide.

 Tubbo ignores him as he tugs the blonde down the carpeted steps.

 While he’s dragged towards the door, they pass Phil as he’s walking out of the kitchen with a glass of water in hand. He jumps slightly and he looks a bit shocked to see Tubbo, but in his eyes there's an obvious hint of fondness. Like he might already know what’s going on.

 “Pft- Well, hello there Tubbo.” Phil greets with a laugh before glancing towards the front door where Tubbo is currently shoving shoes into the hands of a very confused Tommy. “I could’ve sworn I locked that door.”

 Surely enough, when Tommy looks up, the door is very clearly unlocked.

 Giving a big, dopey smile, Tubbo responds, “Hi Phil!” He shrugged, “Eh, it was an easy lock to pick.” Phil sputters. “Anyways!” He opens the front door and starts pushing Tommy outside, “I’m stealing your son for the day! I’ll return him at twelve tonight.”

 Tommy’s shocked to hear a laugh and a response right behind him, “Alright mate, Bring him home in one piece.” Looking over his shoulder, Tommy can see Phil leaning on the door frame of the kitchen. With crossed arms and one leg over the other, his face is laced with a smug smile.

 He had something to do with this. Tommy knows he did. To show his anger, he gave Phil a hard glare. All he hears is a faint chuckle as he’s fully pushed out the door.

 Tumbling over his feet, Tommy makes an effort to pick himself back up without his face meeting the pavement. He can hear the front door close behind him, before Tubbo links arms with him, beginning to drag him around once again.

 Yeah, he’s not too fond of that anymore.

 “Alright, alright. Hands to ourselves,” Tommy snips as he yanks his arm from Tubbo’s.

 As he wipes himself clean of nothing in particular, Tommy follows beside Tubbo. Giving a quick apology, Tubbo continues to excitedly run ahead.

 Tommy doesn’t respond and he certainly doesn’t care. He’s starting to wonder why he’s letting the kid drag him around in the first place. It definitely wasn’t because of fear, he could pummel this kid any day. It wouldn’t be his first fight, he’s most definitely fought bigger and stronger opponents. So, why is he letting himself be dragged into the woods? Maybe he was just bored. Yes, definitely. He was bored and he had nothing better to do. Tommy tries not to cringe when realizing the place in his, now closed book, was most certainly unmarked. That was gonna suck to look for later.

 While walking down a hill towards the wall of the forest, farther back then where he entered yesterday, Tommy can’t help but wonder where they're going. Probably should have been his first thought but hey! His peaceful silence was rudely interrupted and his space was intruded on as he was dragged out the house while his legal guardian just watched. Not gonna be his first thought. It’ll be his second.

 The tall boreal trees begin to engulf the two of them in shade as they entered the woods. It was like a portal pulled them into a new world. It had a much wider entrance and a more firm and stable ground than where he entered yesterday. It was almost like they were meant to come here unlike before, where it generally didn’t feel right.

 Looking down at the green, moss covered ground, he sees the vague outline of wood planks poking and revealing itself from the soft plants.

  “There’s a proper path out here?” Tommy asked out loud. He glared when Tubbo chuckled.

 “Most of the time there is! They go throughout the inter woods! You just didn’t see or use them.”

 Tommy feels an ugly urge to growl at the boy. “Where are we going anyway?” Tommy asks instead as he looks up at the canopy of pines.’

 There are two tree houses ahead of them, clearly meant to go together with their matching dark walls and purple accents. Both are smaller than the one he saw yesterday, with one lower to the ground. The second one is above it, built on a different tree entirely. The two balconies are connected with a metal ladder matching the shiver tin roof. Tommy’s surprised that not a bit of rust clings to either the ladder or roof.

 As they pass, Tommy takes in its nice purple accents like purple curtains and chair cushions. There's even a small, purple UFO ornament hanging from the metal ladder that reaches the ground. There's also that same weird, elevator contraption from the other house.

 He wonders again who the house belongs to, if it belongs to anyone in the first place. If it does, he can't help but wonder, how many kids are out here?

 Tubbo skips a bit ahead of him, “I’m taking you to meet up with Purpled and Ranboo! They’re just up ahead!”

 I’m sorry, what are these names?! Tommy thinks to himself, flabbergasted.

 Shaking his head, he walks faster to catch up to the small boy.

 “I don’t-”

 “Purpled! Ranboo!” Tubbo interrupts him and starts running, but not before grabbing Tommy’s wrist and pulling him along.

 Tommy yelps and soon they’re standing in front of two other boys. The first is a tall, dirty blonde teen with surprisingly purple eyes. He’s adorned in a matching purple hoodie with a black, leather fanny pack strapped over his chest over a pair of grey, jean shorts. His face stays blank. Tommy can’t read him.

 The other boy is a pale, dark freckled, brunette teen with black and white streaks through his medium length fringe. While wearing a half black, half white hoodie split right in the middle, he’s seated in a black, purple and red wheelchair with a green and red backpack hanging from the backrest. It had a cool slash effect spilling down the middle. Next to the bag was a pair of grey elbow crutches attached to the side.

 Looking down at himself and Tubbo, Tommy notices the similarity in their outfits. They’re all wearing hoodies. Tommy wore simple red while Tubbo wore green with a small, cartoon bee embroidered to the chest, similar to the one at the treehouse. To an outsider, it would look like they were part of some group or club, or even friends.

 Tommy shudders.

 “Heya Tubbo,” the one in black and white responded simply, pushing the purple and black wheels of his chair forward to meet up with them. The blonde follows silently behind, his narrow purple eyes seeming to size Tommy up like a hawk hunting its prey. Tommy decides he isn’t having any of that. So he stares back with just as much intensity, ignoring everything else around them. Now, it’s two male lions in a silent stare down ready to pounce.

 “Who’s this?” The other blonde asks with a snap. Tommy’s hairs stand on end. It sounded like a threat. He doesn’t break eye contact with the other blonde. It was almost like looking into a warped, funhouse mirror as they silently challenged each other.

 If Tubbo noticed the tension, he didn’t acknowledge it because he starts jumping on the balls of his feet, starting introductions. “This is Tommy! Met him yesterday, remember! I invited him to roast smores with us tonight!”

 Flinching, Tommy gives up on his silent battle with the one in purple as he looks over and sputters, “Invited?! There was no invitation! I was forced!”

 The brunette in the wheelchair gives a sympathetic glance as if to silently apologize for his blue eyed friend. “I remember Tubbo.” He turns to Tommy, “Pleasure meeting you Tommy.” He sticks his hand out for Tommy to shake. Reluctantly taking it, he gave a firm shake. “I’m Ranboo.” The other must be Purpled then.

 “Hello.” Tommy responds with a growl.

 Tubbo turns to Purpled with a big expecting smile. The other two gazes follow.

 When he looks over, noticing the audience, he snips, “What?!”

 Sighing, Ranboo introduces him, “Tommy, this is Greyson, but he likes to go by Purpled.”

 Looking up at him, Tommy notices Purpled is looking more relaxed as he stares down at his feet, shoving his hands in the pockets of his hoodie.

 “Pleasure meeting ya, prick.” Tommy snips, but if you look closely you can see something almost friendly in his eyes.

 All three of them quickly glance up and stare at him with vastly different expressions. Tubbo seems frustrated with his pinch brows, Ranboo eyes are fogged with disappointment, and Purpled’s entire face seems to be hot and hostile. Looking Tommy in the eyes, Purpled’s expression melts from ready for a fight to ready for a challenge.

 With a smirk, he says, “Right back at ya, dickhead.” Tommy matches his smile.

 Seems peace has been found, in- in it’s own way.

~~{o0o}~~

 “So, what exactly are we doing? Was I just dragged out of Phil’s house for no reason?” Ranboo laughs at Tommy’s question.

 “No, no, later tonight we’re celebrating a friend's birthday, so we’re going to the campfire to roast marshmallows,” he responds from beside Tommy.

 With Purpled to his left and Tubbo to Ranboo’s right, they all make their way down the wide moss covered path. It's obvious the three friends of the group know exactly where they're headed. Tommy can confidently say he’s clueless.

 Looking up at the canopy of trees, he watches the sun sparkle through the dark leaves and pine as a previous question comes to mind. “What even is this place? What are you all doing out here? How many people are even out here?” Okay, it was more like multiple questions but all it took was one question for more to come spilling out his mouth.

 “Uhm, well-” Tubbo started before stopping to ponder.

 Purpled was the one who picked it back up. “This place is basically a really old community that has been here for years. Around three generations? Maybe four. I don’t know, that's just what my brother says.” He glances over to Tommy.  “All you need to know is that it's been here a long time.”

 “How’d it even start?”

 Purpled stares ahead of them. “We have a person known as Eret to thank. Basically, years ago, Eret built three treehouses for his three children. They were so well built a lot of kids took notice and started playing in the treehouses, and by extension, the woods. Inspired, Eret made more and more tree houses for all the kids that came.” Purpled looks down at the path there walking on, Tommy’s gaze follows. “In just a few years so many little houses spread throughout the forest, it became a problem when children kept getting lost. So together, Eret and the kids built paths throughout the entire woods.”

 “This place,” Ranboo continued, “it became a second home, or even a first to many, and Eret had taken them all under his wing with no second thought. Giving them all the love in the world. And while some got old and left overtime.” He gestures with his head to a dark, empty treehouse as they pass. “Most stayed.” Then he gestures to a brightly lit treehouse up ahead. “Inheriting their parents' old homes once they moved or passed and they raised their own children here. Over the years, each generation of kids took over the place.”

 “It’s really cool!” Tubbo exclaimed. “I ended up taking my Dad’s old treehouse when he got too old! It’s a bit far from everyone else, but it is one of the bigger ones around here! They're not all the same.”

 “Yeah, and it’s not like we fight over who gets what.” Purpled adds. “There’s so many out here it’s kinda hard to fight over which ones are better or worse. They're all good in their own way and there are way too many to truly judge.”

 “Yeah, and most of us just take our parents' old treehouse. That’s what I did.” Ranboo says.

 Tommy nearly trips when they all stop and turn towards a deep, cherry wood treehouse with sharp, black accents. It’s taller than the others they passed, looks about two stories with decorative stilts holding it up on the tree. Like the other houses, there's a ladder and lift in front of it. There’s some shuffling beside him.

 “You need help there Boo?” Tubbo asks wearily.

 When Tommy turns, he's ashamed to say he was slightly surprised to see Ranboo slowly lifting himself from the wheelchair. And holy shit! How tall was this kid?!

 When Ranboo reached his full height, Tommy couldn't help but silently gape. This bitch was tall as fuck! He looked like he was just barely reaching seven feet. What the hell?! Purpled chuckles from beside him. Tommy considers punching him, before deciding he’s too tired to put in all that effort.

 “Naw, I got it.” The other brunette responds as he grabs and swings the grey elbow crutches from the back and around the chair. “I’ll be right back.” He grips the crutches, giving a small smile over his shoulder, before he starts to swiftly make his way towards the lift.

 Then it all clicked, he was wondering what the lifts were for. They were for Ranboo.

 Opening the gate, he steps in while Tubbo rushes towards the side of it.

 “Ready Boo?” Tubbo asks as he grips a leather padded crank beside the lift.

 “Yup.”

 Tubbo begins to turn it, slowly, but not painfully, bringing it upwards. It was a bit noisy, making a bunch of metal popping noises, but Tommy was shocked at how fast it was going up. It was well made.

 When the lift reached the top, it seemed to temporarily connect with the edge of the balcony with an audible click. That way, Tubbo could let go of the leaver while Ranboo could safely make his way onto the balcony and into the treehouse.

 “Are those everywhere?” Tommy asked quietly. Purpled heard him though.

 “Yeah, they are. Tubbo designed them and Techno and the rest of us built ‘em.” Purpled glances at Tommy, “Speaking of. How is staying with the Watson's? I know Phil was absolutely ecstatic about having you here. Wouldn’t stop talking about you for weeks.”

 Hearing that, Tommy feels his heart melt, but his body physically clinches. As he responds, he tries to at least loosen his shoulders. “Eh, like any other house I’ve been to. It’s fine.”

 The truth is, the house had been more than lovely. Phil has been decent, and while the brothers can be a bit rough, it’s not anything he hasn’t already seen before. It’s been very chill so far, a good break if you will. Even though it never lasts long, he’s enjoying it while he can.

 With a disbelieving look, Purple glances at him, “Is Techno and Wil treating you alright? I know they can both be a bit cold at times.”

 Tommy shrugged. “They're fine.” Then it all comes back. This morning. There’s a reason he didn’t come in the first place. “Shit. . .” He mutters. Tommy turns back to Purpled. “Are they gonna be at the birthday thing or whatever?”

 Purpled nods, “Yeah, I’m pretty sure. Wilbur is the one who planned it in the first place.”

 A violent shudder goes down Tommy’s spine. There’s a reason he avoids foster siblings. Especially bigger and older ones.

 Before Purpled can say anything, Ranboo is suddenly walking towards them with a black water bottle in hand along with what looks like a small, cardboard package of Advil tucked under his middle finger against the bottle.

 “Ready to go?” Purpled asks as he unzips the bag behind Ranboo’s chair for him.

 “Yeah, I just forgot to pack this,” he responds as he shoves the Advil into the bag. “You guys need anything before we head out?”

 Looking at each other, they all shrug.

 “Nope! Doesn’t look like it!” Tubbo responds as he starts to push the wheelchair down the path. Ranboo walks beside it.

 “Alright, then let's get this show on the road.”

 Tommy doesn’t know if he should look forward to this, or dread it.

:D :) XD

Chapter Text

Burning Words

 It didn’t take long before the sound of distant chattering and boisterous laughter filled the warm air and flooded Tommy’s ears. As they passed more trees, brush and treehouses, the woods started to become familiar to him. He could confidently say he felt safer. Safer than he did yesterday and just a few minutes ago. But it didn’t help the growing pit in his stomach of the sheer idea of seeing both Wilbur and Techno, in the one place they didn’t want him to be.

 The soft thunks and taps of their shoes against the wood path became a melody with the steadily growing laughs and conversations as they began to near an opening in the woods.

 Some shuffling and small jumps to Tommy’s right encouraged him to look over and see Tubbo about to jump from his skin with excitement. The only thing holding him back was the wheelchair he was pushing. Ranboo and Purpled look less like they were going to die of impatience.

 The other blonde in question smirked at his antics, “You know, you can go Tubbo. We’ll be okay.” And that was all Tubbo needed before he bolted down the path, wheelchair still firm in his grip.

 The other two laughed and Tommy couldn’t help but let his own snort. He quickly cut himself off with a cough, trying to hide it just as they reached the clearing. Tommy almost couldn’t believe what he saw.

 The place was wide and open with many wooden benches going around in a circle, each fit for three. After each loop of seats, the circle would shrink and go down a level. It did this three times surrounding a large, orange and gold lit fire where many had congregated around.

 Tommy’s gaze flicked to the canopy above them and he silently gasped at the mystical sight before him. Large, twisting Japanese maple trees circled the clearing, their cherry red leaves waving thousands of lovely hello’s as the newcomers entered. That wasn’t even the most magical part about it. Twisting and curling around the trunks and branches are hundreds of fairy lights, unlit. Tommy can’t help but still imagine the beautiful sight they would give along with the thousands of colorful, dancing glass bottles hanging from the branches. They sparkle and reflect colorful beams of light onto their faces and the wood covered ground as the winds whisper past them.

 “Lovely, isn’t it?” Ranboo asks from beside him.

 Tommy glances at him, “Yeah. . . It is.”

 He chuckles, “I remember George said the same thing when he first came here.”

 “Who the hell is-”

 “EY! Ranboo! Purpled! New guy! Welcome to la fiesta!” A shorter man with a blue-grey beanie and blue sweater comes up to the three of them with a plate of food in his hand. “Techno and Dream are cooking up some great food right now! Better come and get some before the rest of eat till it’s gone.”

 “It won’t be gone, Quackity, leave the new kid alone,” a guy in green calls from beside the fire. Techno sits next to the guy as he puts a tinfoil-wrapped potato on a pan over the fire.

 A brunette with white-brimmed clout glasses speaks from the far side of the campfire, “Wait- There's a new kid?- OW!” He yelps as a darker haired guy with a white bandana around his forehead punches him in the arm.

 “Yes there's a new kid you stupid idiot! Phil’s been talking about Thomas coming for weeks now!” He finishes with a laugh before he turns to Tommy. “Pleasure meeting ya kid. The name’s Sapnap,” He points his thumb towards the brunette beside him. “This idiot is George.”

 George slaps him in the arm with the back of his hand.
Prime, there were so many people. Oh Prime, there are so many people and they're all staring at him! He’s suddenly aware of everything. His clothes, hair, posture, does he smell? Did he put deodorant on today? He did. He should be fine. But he did a lot of walking today, is he fine? Is there dirt on his clothes, should he check?

 Tommy takes an involuntary step back. “Uhh. . . N-Nice to meet you. You can j-just call me Tommy.”

 By one of the tables off to the left, a shorter guy with long ginger hair with a wisp of white in his bangs starts talking, “pleasure finally meeting you Tommy! Tubbo mentioned he met you yesterday! Said you were really nice. How are ya settling in, kid? Techno isn’t sending death threats your way?” Techno lets out a rough huff in response.

 “Prime, chill with the questions.” Purpled grumbled from beside him. Tommy silently thanked him.

 “Um. . . No, I’m- Wait.” He paused. “He said I was nice?” Tommy asked, his cheeks going pink as others chuckled in the crowd.

 “Of course I did!” Tommy spotted Tubbo sitting next to a young woman with short, light pink hair. Not quite like Techno’s, much fluffier, he kind of wanted to touch it. “You’re a lot nicer than you let on.”

 Tommy feels his cheeks heat up more as panic floods his chest again and he snips, “Oh fuck off ya prick!”

 “Primes, calm down child.”

 Shit. . .

 Wait- What did he just call me?!

 “OI! I am not a child!”

 Wilbur ignores him. “Anyways,” he says as he emerges from some trees. A light brunette in a white T-shirt with three pixel art hearts on his chest follows by his side. “Karl just got home, he’s on his way over.”

 “Awesome!” Sapnap hollers as he jumps on top of one of the bleachers making Tommy flinch. “Then we can get this party started!” The place is filled with gentle laughter as they all smile at their friend. 

 Tommy feels like he’s the only one alarmed and not laughing.

 They're all around the warm, crackling fire now. After Karl, the “birthday boy” apparently, had showed up, warm food had been passed around on paper plates along with cool drinks like soda and lemonade as everyone opened their hearts to the world. It honestly sickens Tommy. The fact they can talk about their mental health, how they feel and their darkest insecurities without trembling in pure fear. People can do anything with that information! It baffles him that they can just trust each other so easily, not to mention him! He’s a stranger and they're talking about literal depression! He can use that against them, not that he would anyway, he’s not evil, but they don’t know that!

 Maybe this is all some sort of scheme. A nasty scheme to get him to open up and find his weak spot. Maybe that’s the reason they brought Tommy to this whole thing in the first place. Tubbo definitely hadn’t brought him because he likes him. Ha! No one likes the one and only obnoxious and angry Tommy Innit. Tubbo brought him only to find a way to break him down quicker and easier. Maybe that’s why Wilbur hasn’t thrown a fit about his presence yet, he changed his mind after hearing or even coming up with the new idea.

 With lidded eyes, Tommy picks at his half-eaten cooked potato with a plastic fork, he’s long lost his appetite.

 “Tommy!”

 Blinking, Tommy looks up to find everyone staring at him.

 “Huh?”

 Wilbur scoffs. “Tubbo asked you a question?” There was a small lilt to the end of his question that made it hard to tell whether he was truly being rude or not.

 Tommy glared anyway, “Well then what did he ask, dickhead.”

 Wilbur growled before Tubbo responded, “I asked if you were up to learning everyone's names! We all know yours! So it’s only fair you learn ours!”

 Rolling his eyes, Tommy sighed, “Whatever, sure.”

 The girl with fluffy pink hair spoke up, “Wonderful! So we’ll just go in a circle saying our names?” Everyone nodded, so she continued, “Awesome! I’ll start! Hello Tommy! My name is Niki!”

 The blue beanie guy who greeted them earlier decided the way the circle would go (left) as he spoke next. “Eyyy! ¡ Me llamo Quackity!”

 Beside him, George (maybe?), chuckles, “Name’s George.”

 “KARL!!” A light haired brunette from behind him jumps up and leans on George's shoulders.

 “Sapnap.” The guy with the white bandana spoke up.

 Then the guy from beside the fire earlier, a tall blonde with bright green eyes and a matching hoodie, goes next. “Just call me Dream,” he says simply.

 “Foolish,” another blonde male with green eyes says with a shrug.

 “The name’s Drista!!!” A younger girl with, again, blonde hair and vivid green eyes says. Though she didn’t seem to have the same nose that the other two shared. Tommy wonders if they're all siblings.

 Purpled was next. “You already know who I am.” He says with a snark.

 Tommy smirks. “Damn right I do, bitch.”

 “Jerk.”

 “Loser.”

 “Pussy.”

 “Wanker.”

 “Sh-”

 “Okay! Enough you two!” A guy in a, surprisingly clean, white hoodie spoke up. With a shining gold chain around his neck and blonde hair, he looks like an older version of Purpled, only with blue eyes instead of purple.

 He turns to Tommy, “Call me Punz.” Letting his arm hang around Purpled shoulders, he ruffles the others matching blonde hair as the younger squawks in protest. “This little shit, is my brother.”

 Tommy feels his heart ache. Subconsciously, he goes to rub at his chest, he doesn’t know why it hurts in the first place.

 “Ant,” another brunette with thin brimmed glasses says. He has a pair of brown cat ears in his hair.

 Furry . Tommy thinks with a smirk.

 “What are you smirking at?” Wilbur asks with a sneer.

 Tommy snips a sharp reply, “just thinking how good your face would look under a paper bag.”

 “Tommy.” Techno growls.

 Shrinking in on himself, Tommy focuses his attention on picking at his nails.

 An echoing cough goes around the clearing when it goes quiet, until a guy to his right goes, “Name’s Jack.”

 Tommy only nods as he stares at the ground.

 The one who came with Wilbur earlier speaks up, “I’m Charlie! Charlie Slimecicle!”

 Tommy’s given up being surprised at the weird names.

 A young lady with beautiful red roses decorating her curly hair speaks, “my name is Hannah.” Her voice is pretty and gentle.

 “Fundy,” the ginger from earlier said.

 It all goes quiet for a moment. Tommy looks up and looks around. Everyone has gone. Well, everyone except those he already knows. Besides Purpled and Tubbo who is sitting across from him, Wilbur, Techno and Ranboo are all somewhere to his right.

 Figuring he should say at least something, Tommy begins, “Pleasure meeting you all. Don’t expect me to remember all your names-” There's a few grunts, huffs and chuckles around him, “It won’t matter in the long run, I’ll be gone before you know it.”

 Everyone goes quiet. And while Tommy silently broods, Wilbur huffs.

 “You really had to make it all about yourself, didn’t you.”

 Tommy’s head shoots up. “Wh-”

 “Wilbur.” Techno growls in warning.

 “Come on, you know I’m-”

 A bright, beautiful female voice comes from behind him. “Everyone having fun out here?”

 “Mom!” Three voices call out as Tommy whips around. He’s met with five adults around the same age emerging from the clearing’s main entrance.

 There's a beautiful, tall, curly haired woman with half her hair a dark chocolate brown, while the other half is a soft white. She was wearing black, three inch pumps despite her already being above average height. Looking like she’s ready for a fun night at the town, she’s swarmed by two adults and a teen in a tight hug, Dream, Foolish and Drista.

 Ah, so they are related.

 “You all behaving yourselves?” Phil asks as he steps beside the woman. He also looks ready for a fun night. Dressed in sharp black dress pants with a neat white button up under a green sweater, a fancy, gold embroidered trench coat is hung over his shoulders. What was weird about the whole outfit was the out of place, green striped bucket hat on his head.

 “As well as we can Mr. Watson,” Charlie supplies kindly.

 Phil chuckles, “I told you all, you just call me Phil! Mr. Watson makes me feel old.”

 “Eh, accept it Phil, we’re way past our prime, time to just deal with it,” a rougher looking man in a sharp black suit and red tie says.

 A younger brunette man in a bright blue suit throws his head back in a loud laugh as another round of chuckles goes around. An older man beside him with jet black hair and weirdly pale grey eyes has to keep his partner from toppling over as Tubbo stands from his seat and shuffles over to the man who made the comment.

 Tommy watches as the younger of the two mutters something too faint to hear. After a beat, Tubbo is pulled into a firm hug by the much taller man; he collapses into it immediately. It’s clear as day there father and son, from their matching hair and face shape. Another familiar flash of pain goes through Tommy’s cold heart and he has to look away.

 “My my, you must be Tommy!” The woman is suddenly walking towards him in powerful strides.

 Tommy can’t help but shoot from the seat and take a step back. She stops in response and- she gently reaches out her hand.

 “My name is Puffy. I’m Dream, Foolish and Drista’s mom. It’s a pleasure to meet you Tommy.”

 Blinking, Tommy swallows as he stares at her hand. He’s aware of everything again. His hair grazing the nape of his neck. The clothes he’s wearing rubbing at his skin. And every single pair of eyes staring at his back.

 She gives a smile, “Not a fan of hand shakes?”

 Tommy blushes slightly and quickly shakes his head.

 “That’s okay.” She puts her hand down. “Doesn’t change that fact I’m incredibly excited to meet you.”

 “That goes the same for us!” The two strange men behind her both wave in his direction. “Hello Tommy!” The man with black hair says. “My name is Bad and this is my friend Skeppy!” He gestures to the brunette.

 “Heyo. Hope everyone is treating you well.”

 Bad whispered something to the other.

 “Alright, alright, nice to meet you Tommy, call me Schlatt, I’m this shits dad.” He points a finger at a now offended glaring Tubbo. He has to rip his hand away before it meets the offender's teeth. “We didn’t come here to chat, we leaven ya’ll to get milk and we ain’t coming back.” He flicks Tubbo’s forehead.

 There are groans all around as Puffy punches him in the arm. Hard.

 “Ow. . .” He grouches.

 “What Schlatt means ,” Phil stresses as he gives a glare to the other man, “is we’re going out for the evening,”

 W-What. . .?

 “We won’t be back till around one.”

 No. Prime, please no.

 “We expect the older ones here to get the youngsters to bed by midnight. Am I clear? We don’t want to deal with grouchy teens tomorrow.”

 Echoes of “yes sir” are lost to Tommy’s ears. He no longer has any feeling in the tips of his fingers and his ears are filled with violent ringing. He’s being left alone. He’s being left alone with- with Wilbur and Techno and all of their friends . Tommy can already see and feel it now. This is the start of the foster sibling torture. This is where he becomes their punching bag. Their toy. The other young adults and teens can do anything to Tommy now and the adults won’t know anything about it until much later or even at all. The damage will already be done, faded or straight up hidden.

 Then, on top of that, there’s more. Phil’s going out. No. Phil’s going out to drink . That’s clear as day. Clear as water. The sun is setting, dressed nicely, surrounded by friends his age, the phrase “going out” . Yeah, Phil’s going to a bar. Phil’s gonna drink. Phil’s going to have alcohol in his system.

 His vision clouds.

 “Just make sure you three are home safe okay?” Tommy looks up to see Phil talking to Wilbur, Techno and him.

 “Yeah, yeah, we’ll make sure the brat is home in time for bedtime,” Wilbur says with a roll to his eyes.

 Despite the way Tommy’s brain is fuzzed with panic, he snips, “S-Shut the fuck up.”

 Sighing fondly, Phil chuckles and kisses his boys’ forehead, Tommy’s not included, “I’ll see you three tomorrow morning. Love you!”

 “Love you too.”

 “Love you too Dad !” Wilbur had said with a nasty emphasis on “dad”, but Tommy was too preoccupied in his own thoughts to really care.

 Intrusive thoughts and horrifying “what if’s” filled his head like rushing water as the world swirled around him as if he was drowning until the rest of the night was nothing more than a loud blur.

~~{o0o}~~

:D :) XD

Chapter Text

Early Morning Intrusions

 The fairy lights were indeed as beautiful as Tommy thought they would be. The sun set hours ago, leaving behind the cold, dark abyss of summer revealing the bright twinkling stars of the night to accompany blinking fireflies and colorful swinging lights.

 When the first bits of sun had sunk behind the dark horizon, Tommy had startled when the lights first flickered on.

 Must be solar powered , he had figured.

 Then it got dark, and he couldn’t look away from the lights. He was mesmerized as they helped brighten the forest alongside the warm fire people congregated around. Then games started being played and Tommy had to look away. With him being dragged around, doing his best to be present and coherent and actively failing, he wasn’t given a chance to blankly stare at the artificial stars. Whatever, no one seemed worried.

 There was more laughter echoing around him. Chuckles and giggles accompany actual conversations that probably won’t mean a thing in the end and probably won’t be remembered. Tommy has no idea how long he’s been mentally vacant, five minutes, thirty minutes, an hour? But it was definitely long enough to where things were starting to be packed away. Leftover food and drinks being shoved into now melted coolers as trash is being tossed away into garbage bags. All while people started saying their short term goodbyes with hugs and even a few cheek kisses being passed around.

 He was forced back into the present when he heard his name being called from across the clearing. The blonde looked over to see Tubbo running over. Following from behind, Ranboo was back in his wheelchair being pushed by Purpled.

 When the brunette skidded to a stop in front of him, Tommy hummed in question.

 “We just wanted to wish you a good night before you left!” Tubbo exclaimed.

 “. . . Oh.” Tommy muttered.

 Ranboo gave a small smile as he continued, “I, and everyone else, really hope you’re enjoying your time here. I speak for all of us when we say we loved having you here.”

 “No kidding,” Purpled starts with a laugh. “All of us are excited to show you around, get to know you, Drista especially.” He leans in, “I wouldn’t be surprised if she pulled a Tubbo and just drags you out here again.”

 Shoulders slumping, he lets his head fall back on his neck, “Ugh, I have to deal with another one?”

 They all chuckle, and for once, so does Tommy.

 “Sorry, that's just how it works here.” The other blonde doesn’t sound sorry in the slightest.

 Huffing, Tommy lets out a small, irritated “whatever” as Techno and Wilbur start to come their way with a small blue cooler under Techno’s arm.

 “WILBUR!!” Tubbo exclaimed as he barrels into Wilbur’s arms. The taller breathes out a small “oof” at the impact of the small boy. Despite that though, he wrapped his arms around the younger with a fond smile.

 “See you soon Bee Boy,” Wilbur mumbles into Tubbo’s hair.

 So Tubbo is Bee Boy. I already figured but I guess this just proves it, Tommy thought pointlessly.

 “See you soon Jubilee,” Tubbo responded into Wilbur’s shoulder.

 Jubilee? What the hell is Jubilee? Is that his nickname? He wondered. Do they all have nicknames?

 Separating from the other, they all say some more goodbyes with Tommy staying quietly in the background. Surprisingly, he finds Techno beside him, just as quiet as he is. Tommy glances up at him. Soon, Techno is looking down at the other, giving him a questioning frown.

 Beginning to panic, Tommy quickly pulls his gaze away from the pink haired man and towards the ground below him.

 “Sorry. . .” He mumbles near silently.

 After a beat, Techno goes, “You’re fine,” nearly just as quiet.

 More minutes passed between the two as chatter kept going on around them and it was killing him. They’re nearly standing shoulder to shoulder in awkward silence and Tommy hated it. Tommy hates awkward silence.

 Ah, screw it.

 “Why aren’t you saying goodbye?” Tommy asks quietly, unsure if Techno will even hear him.

 Surprisingly, he does. “Hm. Already did, just don’t like the extra social interaction,” the older one responds shortly.

 “Then why did you come to this? A social event,” Tommy asked, genuinely curious.

 Techno doesn’t look at him. “Because they wanted me to.”

 “They?”

 “Wilbur, Dream, Ranboo, Karl,” Techno shrugs. “I don’t like talking to people but that doesn't mean I don’t like them . They wanted me to come, so I did. Even if it sucks at times.”

 Tommy looked up at the other before quickly looking away again to stare at Ranboo, who was throwing a long arm over Tubbo’s shoulder while Punz gave his little brother a rough noogie.

 Laughing, Wilbur turns towards them again before he catches eyes with Tommy, then his face goes oddly neutral as he starts walking past them towards the forest entrance.

 Following his brother, Techno gives a small “let’s go” as he starts climbing up steps beside the other.

 “See you later Tommy!” Tubbo calls after him.

 Then he’s gone, skipping away with Purpled and Ranboo following close behind.

 Blinking, Tommy shakes himself before looking behind him. Techno’s pink hair is disappearing behind the trees. Tommy runs after them.

 It didn’t take long before they made it back to the house. He was pretty much ignored the enter walk back as Wilbur talked his head off to Techno. Tommy didn’t even try to engage.

 When the front door was unlocked and opened, the house was dark. Like- fully dark, pitch black. Tommy couldn’t see a foot in front of him and couldn’t move without fearing tripping hazards.

 “Ugh, Dad didn’t even bother to keep a single light on?” Wilbur grumbled as he plunged into the darkness, fumbling for the light switch.

 Following in and kicking off his shoes, Tommy growled, “It’s called electricity bills, dickhead. Lights cost money.”

 With the lights flicking on, Tommy could fully see the irritation behind Wilbur's glasses, “I was joking, you brat.” Tommy flinched, “And what do you know about money? Probably haven't spent a dollar in your life! Everything handed to you-.”

 “Wilbur!” Tommy flinches at the loud shout behind him as the brunette stops to look at his brother. “You and I both know that’s not how it works. So I suggest you shut your mouth before you say something you regret,” Techno said swiftly, not breaking eye contact with the other.

 Tommy watches awkwardly as Wilbur's shoulders droop while his gaze falls to the ground.

 “Let’s get to bed, Phil will throw a fit if we’re up any longer, especially Tommy,” Techno says as he gives Wilbur a gentle pat on the back while he starts leading them both upstairs.

 A shiver goes down Tommy’s spine. He has no idea what is going to happen tomorrow or what he should do. Should he be a coward and stay in the guest room all day? Or should he be a man and take Phil on, go through his day like it doesn't bother him? You know, if the brothers are rushing to get to bed just to escape his wrath, he might as well hide. All Tommy can do now is get to bed and hope Phil is sober by morning.

 Hearing two doors clicking shut from upstairs, Tommy starts making his way after them ready to fall asleep.

~~{o0o}~~

 Sticks and twigs snapped under foot as the blonde made his way through the woods. It was oddly dark. Didn’t Phil say to be home before nine?

 “Whatever,” he mumbled, pushing past another low hanging branch. On the other side, there’s an oddly flat clearing where he finds Tubbo, Purpled and Ranboo in all their glory, laughing their heads off.

 He smiles to himself before rushing up to them.

 “Hey guys!” Tommy calls to them. They turn to glance at him before continuing their conversation, like he wasn’t there in the first place.

 “Guys?”

 Tubbo whips his head around to glare at him. “What.”

 Tommy takes a hesitant step back. “Uhm. . . I-I uh. I saw you guys and I wanted to say hi! Uh. . .” He paused. “You good? You seem off.”

 Rolling his eyes, the shorter responds, “I was fine.”

 Tommy sputters. “W-what- what do you mean?”

 It’s Ranboo’s turn to glare, “You said your hello. Now it’s time for you to go.”

 When Tommy only looks more confused, that’s when Purpled starts laughing.

 “Guys! Guys! He- He really thought–!”

 Whatever sick joke is being passed around makes it to the other two as they both start cackling with their friend.

 “Wait! You really thought that we uhh- liked? You?” Tubbo exclaimed between breaths.

 Tommy’s thoughts paused. Then they start again. But not how they usually do. See, whenever he's cast away he’s always filled with white, hot anger with a deep, dark underlayer of pure hurt. But this time. This time all Tommy feels is- nothing. He feels nothing.

 As they continue their cackling and begin their taunts, Tommy turns away and plunges into the forest again.

 As he goes further and further into the depths of the oddly dark woods, the world shifts beneath his feet and suddenly he’s running straight through the front door of an old foster home. House number eight.

 “No. . .” Tommy whispers. “Not here. Anywhere but here.” He takes a step back. The place is wrecked and soon he’s facing- Tommy swallows- him.

 With bloodshot eyes, a bottle hanging limply in his hand and a new vomit stain trailing down his shirt, it’s obvious the man is drunk out of his mind. Again.

 “Did you ev-er think you could be truly loveddd-'' the man pauses to hiccup. Tommy can smell his rancid breath from how close he’s gotten, “by anyone. Including me. You’re nothing!” He shoves Tommy back a step. “A burden! A waste of spaccee.” He starts bursting in laughter becoming more and more erratic with each gasp of breath. The bottle he’s holding is lifted above his head and Tommy braces himself as it starts coming down on his own.

 As the glass shatters, meeting his head, Tommy blacks out.

 The blonde is floating limply in a dark void. There is no feeling in the tips of his fingers or toes. He starts falling.

 When he opens his eyes, he’s seated behind an old table in a courtroom. The courtroom.

 No. . . Please no. . . Not this again.

 Tommy looks up at the judge sitting behind his podium and gives him a sad look. A pitiful look. Tommy feels much younger.

 A lawyer speaks from beside him, “Did you really think they would show up? It’s selfish, really.”

 He looks up at the man. He doesn’t remember his face. Just that he was wearing an oddly prominent grey suit. It feels weirdly right and so wrong at the same time. Tommy can’t forget it to this day.

 “What. . .?” Tommy asks meekly. S-Surely they would come. Isn’t he their- ǫ̴̨̼͕̱͍̠̪͖͙̥͙̥͍̤̻̐ͅs̵̙̰͉̖̠̻͍̩̞̣̲͊̏̏̌̉͒͝ņ̶̗̺͚̫̩̝̰͔̯̙̟̱̝̗́̈̓̑͑̏͌̓̊̆͆̍̌͠

 “It’s been thirty minutes, kid. They're not coming.”

 “B-But. But they gotta! I don’t wanna go!” The man ignored him and starts packing his things. He grips the bottom of the man's suit and tugs as tears begin pouring from his eyes. His hand burns. He lets go as the man pulls away.

 “Thomas?”

 Tommy whips around to see a familiar man with fern green eyes and brownish green hair. He doesn’t know him. But he does. He’s familiar isn’t he. He should know this man. Who? What? Where?

 “Sam!” Tommy runs into his arms.

 Who’s Sam? He doesn’t know this man. But he does?

 “Come on kid. Let’s get you out of here.” Sam gently takes his hand and starts leading him out of the courtroom and through the tall, elegant halls. Tommy goes without question.

 Didn’t he fight Sam? Didn’t he kick and scream? Didn't he go weightless, falling to the floor in a pile of limbs? Didn’t he beg and cry with tears and snot pouring from his face as security had to be called? Didn’t he beg for them to come back for him? For them to want him.

 Then it clicks. It all clicks.

 Oh. He’s dreaming again, Tommy realizes as he’s walking through the front entrance towards the empty parking lot. He should probably wake up now, shouldn’t he.

 As Tommy is pulled towards Sam's familiar silver car, he lets his eyes fall close.

 Then-

 Then he’s awake, opening his eyes to see darkness only lit by the moon beaming from the window. There are tears dripping down his cheeks. He simply whips them away and rolls on his side.

 At this point in his life, Tommy has a good grasp on knowing if he’s awake or not. It used to trip him up a lot when he was younger, pulling himself from his dreams. It seemed too easy to just close his eyes in a dream only to wake up in bed seconds later. To this day, he still doesn’t understand how it works. Eh, he doesn’t bother thinking about it. He’s awake now and needs to figure out whether or not he wants to try and fall asleep again.

 Reaching to grab his phone from off the side table, Tommy nearly blinds himself turning it on to check the time.

 2:15 a.m.

 Of course, Tommy cursed bitterly in his head. He couldn’t even make it to five. Phil should be home at this point and he really doesn’t want to deal with a possibly drunk man with little to no energy. But. . . the sheer idea of going back to. . . to that- has him shaking. Prime. He might as well just give up now, he’ll be waking up in a few hours anyway. But he’s tired and he knows he’ll be miserable tomorrow if he doesn’t get even a wink of sleep.

 He stares at the ceiling and ponders for a few solid minutes.

 . . .

 Water. He’ll get water. Yeah, that’ll work. He’ll go downstairs, get some water, maybe a snack? That might be pushing it, but he’ll see what he finds and then he’ll be back in bed before anyone knows he’s up.

 Kicking off the thick, rumpled blankets and sheets that wrapped around his feet, Tommy throws his legs over the right side of the bed and starts making his way to the door.

 Silently cracking the door open, Tommy peaks up and down the hall. It's empty and dark minus the couple of nightlights plugged into the wall. Letting the small lights guide him, he starts creeping down the halls. He’s silently grateful for the carpet floors, normally he'd have to take his sweet time staring at the floor with intense focus, checking for especially loud floor boards. He doesn’t have to do that here.

 The stairs are easy to go down and it doesn’t take long before he starts looking towards the kitchen. Then he realizes he can see into the living room. A single lamp is clicked on. Someone’s awake.

 Shit. I should just go back to bed. Tommy scrambles to start walking upstairs, but he really wants that water. Pausing, he looks into the living room. There's a head of pink hair just barely visible over the tall purple armchair. Techno.

 He could get around that right? Techno did stand up for him just a few hours ago, maybe he’ll just ignore him. Part of him is begging to go back upstairs and hide for the rest of the night, but the other part of him, the challenging part of him, wants to see what’ll happen. Sure, the guy is tall and bulky and could probably break bricks with his fist, but it isn’t like he seen or felt worse. One of, if not both of, the brothers snapping is bound to happen eventually too. Might as well get it out of the way now.

 So, beside the screaming in his head and the harsh pounding against his rib cage, he turns back around, and starts making his way down the steps once again.

 Hesitating at the bottom of the steps, he becomes mindful of the wood floors, slowly walking towards the kitchen. If Techno heard the creaks and quiet pops of the floorboards behind him, he doesn’t acknowledge them.

 Even with the small thought that maybe he’s safe, Tommy doesn’t let his guard down even as he starts peaking inside cabinets. It doesn’t take long before he finds the cups.

 Pulling one down, the blonde puts it under the sink tap and fills it.

 Half way through, the lights are flicked on blinding the blonde. Startled, Tommy tenses, whipping around to face the threat. He sees Techno blocking the kitchen entrance.

 “You know you can turn on the lights right?” The man drawled in a tired, monotone voice.

 Tommy stayed silent as they stared at each other.

 . . .

 “You gonna clean that up by the way?” Techno asked, pointing limply towards the ground.

 Blinking, Tommy looked down to see water puddled around him and splashed up against the island cupboards. He glanced at his once half filled cup. It was empty.

 “Damnit,” Tommy grumbled as he silently panicked, he looked up nervously. “You got a towel I could use?”

 The other just nodded before turning away, presumably to grab said towel.

 Tommy turned back towards the sick refilling his cup. Taking small sips, he waited patiently for Techno to come back.

 When he did return, Techno tossed a red towel over the island for Tommy to catch. Setting his glass to the side, Tommy began to wipe down the floor and lower cabinets.

 As he pushed and pulled the once dry rag across the floor, picking up much more than just water, Tommy watched in the corner of his eye. Techno quietly takes a seat at one of the island stools. Push and pull, up and down, side to side the rag went as the air was filled with thick, tense silence. Once again, Tommy hated it.

 Rolling up the wet towel and setting it to the side, Tommy coughed into his fist. “So uh, there a reason you’re up this late?”

 “Hm?” Techno looked up, “Oh. No. Just couldn’t sleep.”

 Tommy nodded, leaning against the counter. Then a thought came to mind. “Are you worried about Phil?”

 . . .

 “What about Phil?”

 Tommy swallowed. “I-I mean. . . does he get- does he do this a lot?” The blonde glanced away. “Going out . Are you worried how he’ll be in the morning?”

 They were quiet for a few more long seconds. When Tommy looked back up at the pink haired man, he was surprised to be met with a baffled expression paired with squinted, almost offended eyes. It was obvious the man was trying to hide it though, with the way he blinked hard, trying to settle his features.

 “Kid,” the man said firmly, looking him dead in the eyes. “Phil doesn’t-” His eyelids fluttered for a moment. “Phil didn’t drink. He isn’t drunk.”

 Tommy blinked. “What?”

 “Phil was their ride home. He didn’t drink and he certainly isn’t drunk.” Techno paused to glance down at his now fiddling fingers. “He would never get drunk around us.”

 Well that might have been good to know. He’s wrapped himself into a mindless panic for nothing. Well. . . unless he’s lying.

 “Wait. . . really?” Tommy asked wearily.

 Techno nodded. “Yes.” Seeing that Tommy’s pinched excretion didn’t change or vanish, Techno continued, “Phil isn’t a fool. Phil doesn’t take this fostering thing lightly, I can tell you from experience. He doesn’t drink around us or even that much from the start. The most he’ll have is a drink or two. I promise you, you don’t have to worry about anything like that. Phil isn’t like other foster parents.”

 Tommy didn’t fully believe that last part, but he guesses he can chill out about the whole “foster father getting drunk” thing. So he just shrugged.

 “Whatever.”

 Techno huffed, if you strained your ears, it almost sounded like a laugh. “Come on, I was just about to put on a movie.” He stood and started for the entrance. Techno didn’t bother to see if Tommy followed. But he did. He followed Techno into the quaint living room after flicking the kitchen light off.

 Watching Techno take a seat on the couch, pulling a blanket over his legs, Tommy took a seat on the light green armchair with the short back again. As he pulled his legs up to his chest, the TV flicks to life brightening the room just a smidge more.

 “Anything you wanna watch?” Techno asks.

 Tommy just shakes his head. Not many movies he’s seen ever piqued his interest and the one movie he did like brought back too many memories for comfort.

 “Alright. . .” The other muttered. He scrolled around a bit in different streaming platforms before grumbling and kicking the blanket off his legs and standing. Tommy watched him warily.

 “I’ll be right back.” Then he was walking past Tommy’s chair, plunging himself into darkness. He seemed to be heading towards the family room. Tommy couldn’t see much more than that.

 The silence was suffocating. It felt like at any moment the soft ringing of electricity would triple and intense, swallowing him whole, forever listening and feeling the harsh fuzz of white noise. He was so on edge he was almost glad when Techno returned with a movie case between his fingers.

 Reaching on top of the fireplace, Techno pushed a few buttons on a DVD player before the machine ejected the platform.

 Techno pulled out and placed the DVD on it before gently nudging it to close. As he returned to his seat on the coach he tossed the empty case on the coffee table. Getting comfortable under his blanket, ads started playing and Techno easily skipped over them.

 Soon, a logo appeared, “Dreamworks,” in front of a deep blue sky surrounded by soft, airy clouds and small gentle stars. As the scene falls behind, the logo ripples away and the camera pans over a deep ocean of water covered in fog with jagged rocks poking from the dark below as the narrator begins to speak. He sounds like a young boy. Tommy’s age? Maybe older. The music is nice and gentle.

 Curiously, Tommy glances down at the coffee table to read the title of the movie.

 “ How to Train Your Dragon ”

 His curiosity spiked as action started and the longer and longer they got into the movie, the more and more he tried his damn best to stay awake. The boy was nearly there, watching as the battle began, the climate beginning to settle in, the dilemma being that his eyes were taking longer and longer to open after each and every blink. One moment they would be in one place, flying and soaring on dragons helping the main protagonist, he would blink, then there would be no dragons, only simple dialogue between people he couldn't differentiate. It was frustrating. But soon enough his eyes couldn’t stay open any longer and he was dipped into darkness.

 He never did find out if Hiccup won in the end.

~~{o0o}~~

:D :) XD

Chapter Text

Giving and Receiving

 Yawning and stretching his stiff shoulders, Tommy awoke the next morning to robotic muttering from the TV and soft shuffling across the room.

 Cracking his eyes open, the gentle morning light flooded his vision, shrinking his pupils as the sun warmed his cheeks, only encouraging him to melt back into the plush chair and warm blanket over his shoulders. He doesn’t know when he got his hands on a blanket, but it was there. Eh, he was too tired to really think about it.

 Despite wanting to close his eyes, he kept them open and started watching the show playing quietly on the TV. Keeping an eye on the brunette sitting where Techno was last night, he heard slippered steps echoing from behind him in the foyer.

 “Morning boys,” Tommy heard Phil’s rumbling morning voice from behind him.

 “Morning Dad,” Wilbur said quietly.

 “Morning. . .” Tommy muttered, his own morning voice chokey and rough.

 Pulling the pink blanket off the back of the purple armchair, Phil took a seat beside him, throwing the blanket over his legs and picking up his book from the side table. As Phil began to quietly read, the morning remained comfortably quiet minus the talking tv, some new scuttering echoing from the kitchen and an occasional page flip from Tommy’s left.

 It stayed that way for a quick thirty minutes until Techno joined them, explaining that breakfast was ready. They all stood, making their way to the kitchen where they all ate in comfortable silence.

 One by one they sat around the island, and just like yesterday and the day before that, Tommy took a seat away from everyone else.

 After a bit of clinking silverware clattering in his ears, a plate of eggs and bacon was passed to him. Glancing up, he made brief eye contact with Phil.

 “Thanks. . .”

 Phil smiled, “No problem.” Then he took the seat second away from Tommy. As the man began to dig into his own meal, Tommy turned his attention to his.

 “So, Tommy,” Phil started, turning in his chair to face the younger blonde. “I don’t have any work today, so I thought it would be a good idea to go shopping for some new clothes and maybe some things for your room?” He took a bite of eggs, chewed and swallowed. “Only if you want to, though. Oh! I was also thinking we could get lunch after! That might be nice–!”

 “O- kay Dad,” Wilbur started. “We don't want to overwhelm him.” He also took a bite of his food. “Again,” he muttered. Techno elbowed him in the side as Phil gave him a soft warning glare.

 “Anyway.” Phil turned back to Tommy, flashing another smile. “What do you think Tommy? I really would love to spend some time with you.”

 Did he really want to spend time with this man? Did he want to spend an unknown amount of time in a public setting surrounded by people? Not really, no. Did he need new clothes though? Yes. Yes he did. Desperately.

 “Uhm. . .'' Tommy glanced away. “I uh.” He swallowed. “I guess. . .'' Phil and him made eye contact again. Phil was beaming.

 “Alright then! After we eat we’ll get ready to go then? I was thinking of going to the mall but that’s quite a fair distance so we gotta be out of here soon.”

 Great. Now he’s gonna be stuck in a car for two whole hours with Phil. Brilliant.

 “Alright.” Tommy said quietly.

 Soon, they were all cleaning their dishes, dispersing around the house to get ready or do their own thing. Then, before Tommy knew it, he was climbing into the passenger seat of Phil's Subaru.

 “Alright Tommy. Are you ready?” Phil asked, plunging his key into the ignition.

 “Yeah,” Tommy responded. Phil just gave him a smile in return as he started the engine and pulling out of the driveway.

 “Then let's get this show on the road.”

 Oh boy, Tommy thought bitterly. Let’s just get this over with.

~~{o0o}~~

 Finally arriving at the mall was an. . . experience. The place was packed, taking Phil a solid ten minutes to find parking. People were crowded everywhere. It was like millions of ants trying to swallow the same crumb of bread. Thousands of bees swarming a single, small predator. It was like everyone was fighting to go the opposite direction of each other. And this was only in the parking lot.

 Oh Prime, Tommy swore to himself, throwing his hood over his head. Oh no.

 As Phil put the car into park, he must have noticed Tommy’s distress, granted it wasn’t that hard to see in the first place, and he started digging around a backpack he had brought. Then something small, soft, and squishy was pressed against his closed fist.

 Blinking, Tommy saw it was a purple stress ball of some kind. And not one of those cheap ones that have little to no squish to them. The one Phil was handing him was one of the newer, better ones. The ones you can pull and stretch with ease.

 Looking up at Phil with a questioning gaze, Tommy only received a gentle nod from the older man. Tommy took the stress toy into his fingers and began to fiddle with it.

 “I didn’t think it would be this crowded. . .” Phil muttered under his breath. He then turned to Tommy. “Do you want to find a different place to shop? There's another mall forty minutes from here?”

 Tommy glanced up at Phil with a blank expression before shrugging and mumbling, “I don’t really care. . .”

 Phil gave Tommy an unconvinced expression before he simply sighed -and definitely not getting a flinch from Tommy, no. No. You saw nothing.- and started to get out of the car. Tommy followed after.

 “Alright Tommy,” Phil started as he rounded the side of the car towards the other blonde. “I want you to stick close, okay?” Tommy nodded stiffly. “Actually, can I see your phone real quick? I want to add my number just in case something happens.”

 Tommy nodded, pulling his phone from his back jean pocket and handing it to Phil. Considering the growing hole forming at the bottom of that pocket in particular, it probably wasn’t the best place to have it.

 After adding his number, Phil gave it back to Tommy. The boy in question tried his damn best to keep his anxiety in check with the fact Phil just had his phone in his hand. He stuffed it back into his pocket.

 “Ready?”

 “As I’ll ever be. . .” Tommy grumbled back.

 Smiling softly down at Tommy, Phil began to lead them through the parking lot. If Tommy stuck a little bit closer to Phil than he normally would, that was between them.

 Filing in the actual building was hard enough with people coming in and out of it like a cluttered conveyor belt, but all of that was nothing compared to the inside. People seemed to be climbing up walls. It looked almost as packed as it did during Christmas or a Black Friday deal. Tommy’s hands shook as he stretched and squeezed the stress toy in his hoodie pocket.

 “We’re alright mate. Just stay close,” Phil said as they plunged into the crowd.

 “Why are so many people here ?” Tommy stressed as his eyes darted around.

 Surprisingly, Phil heard him over the thousands of echoed voices. “Dunno. Probably has to do with the fact it's a Monday in the middle of summer. Kids are out of school. Parents doing early school shopping. People just tend to have the same ideas sometimes and so we’re all here at the same time. Funny how that works isn’t it?” Tommy didn’t have to look to know Phil was giving one of his sunny smiles.

 “It isn’t funny when it feels like I’m swimming in a pool of sweaty bodies,” Tommy angrily muttered and Phil only gave a small chuckle in response.

 “Come on. Why don’t we start this off with some new shoes first?” He pointed to a bright, neon store across the halls. It reminded Tommy of something you would find in the 80s.

 Tommy shrugged. “Okay.” He tried to sound like he wasn’t interested, but it was hard when Tommy was beyond excited. Even if he knew he was getting his hopes up, Tommy couldn’t help it. He was so ready for something, anything other than this old trash he somehow stuck to the bottom of his feet.

 Letting Phil lead the way, they entered the average sized store. As you would expect, there were shoes covering every wall with multiple aisles of racks filled with more and more shoes.

 “The boys section is over here.” Phil pointed to the far right, the fourth and final aisle down.

 Looking across the racks of shoes, he was immediately drawn to literally anything of the color red. Red converse, red high-tops, red Skechers. Red.

 “Go ahead and pick three pairs,” Tommy heard Phil say absentmindedly.

 . . .

 “What?”

 “Hm?”

 Tommy rushed over to one of the boxes and glanced at the price.

 £49.99

 His mouth dropped.

 “I’m sorry. What?” Tommy whipped around to face Phil who had, what Tommy could only call, a fond amused smile as his dark blues twinkled.

 “I said you could get three pairs of shoes. Though I can be flexible if there's another pair you want.” There was an evil smile gracing Phil's lips. Tommy could see it from here.

 He glared at the other. “How fucking rich are you?” Tommy asked with a small, not very threatening, sneer.

 Phil shrugged with a small chuckle, “Not important. Now go pick your shoes, we have other stores to see.”

 Prime, this man was insane. And the funny thing was Tommy wasn’t as surprised this time. The dude gave him a fucking laptop. Three pairs of shoes is hardly a scratch in his wallet.

 Tommy turned back to the shelves as he muttered, “Rich motherfucker.”

 There was a loud bark of a laugh behind him. Tommy couldn’t help but smile at the sound of it.

 Around thirty minutes later, Tommy had his size figured out and three pairs of shoes were being passed to the cash register.

 “That’ll be 136 pounds and 79 pence,” she said as she punched more numbers into the register.

 Tommy’s anxiety grew as he watched as Phil pulled out his credit card. Just as he began passing the card to the woman, Tommy shouted, “Wait! No!”

 Glancing at him with a worried expression, Phil stopped moving. Thankfully.

 “Stop. I-I. I can’t just let you spend all this money on me,” Tommy said earnestly.

 “Why not?” Phil asked quietly.

 “It’s really not worth it,” Tommy immediately responded, looking Phil dead in the eyes. As if that would change the man's mind.

 It didn’t because he simply smiled and crouched down in front of the blonde, looking up at the boy. “Tommy, it is worth it. You are worth all this and more. I want to spend this money on you because you deserve it.”

 “But-” Phil put up a gentle hand, it did nothing to stop the flinch it shook out of the boy. Phil immediately put his hand down.

 “Tommy. Hon.” His smile was sad now. It didn’t look right on him. Tommy didn’t like it. “I am going to spoil the shit out of you.” Phil gave a wet laugh. “Do you understand?”

 Tommy opened his mouth to argue but Phil beat him to the punch.

 “I’m gonna spend so much money on you today and I don’t want you to even blink at it. You are worth so much Tommy and you need to understand that.”

 But I’m just going to be leaving, Tommy thought as his eyes started to burn. “Why are you so nice to me?” He asked in a hushed whisper.

 “Because I care,” Phil promised.

 Walls around his heart only grew thicker. Tommy scowled.

 “Bullshit.”

 “Oh really?” Phil said with a mischievous smile. “We’ll see about that.” He stood and continued to hand his card back to the lady, but froze when he saw her eyes were shining with tears behind a held up phone.

 She was recording.

 Shit.

 “Mate. I’m going to ask you to put the phone down and delete that video,” Phil said wearily but stern.

 “Oh!” The lady blinked and put the phone down. “Of course.”

 Phil glared. “Delete it.”

 “Hm?”

 “I said, delete it. Delete the video. Now.”

 The girl's brows rose before the furrowed. “Why?”

 “Because, this conversation was between me and my foster son. Not for you or whoever you’re going to show it to.” Phil’s argument was clear. Delete the video or I will be starting a fight. Verbal of course. Hopefully.

 Look. If Tommy saw that face, he would cave. On top of that, this man had a monster of a son that would most definitely kick anyone's ass. He wouldn’t mess with this man. Clearly, this lady was going to keep fighting until another employee walked up to her, giving her a look before whispering something in her ear. Finally, the girl relented, picking up her phone and showing them as she deleted it and then going to her trash and deleting it from there as well.

 Phil gave her a cheery smile as if the whole ordeal didn’t happen in the first place, as he handed her his card. She rung them up and soon, they were out the store with a single bag in hand.

 “Right! How does clothes shopping sound?”

 And that’s how Tommy found himself in the middle of a clothing store, staring at these over-expensive pieces of clothes he will grow out of in a month.

 “Hey Phil?” Tommy called for the man.

 Phil stopped shuffling through clothing racks to look at the boy. “Yes?”

 “What did you say about spoiling me?”

 Phil started laughing. “Go pick out some clothes mate.” He turned to start walking further down the aisle.

 “gO pIcK oUt SoMe ClOtHeS mAtE. Mi mi mi mi miiii.” Phil burst into laughter as Tommy mocked under his breath.

 Starting to rifle through the clothing racks, Tommy stumbled upon several shirts that peaked his interest. Much like the shoes situation, he was immediately drawn to the color red. He honestly couldn’t explain why, he just was. Reminded him of something familiar. Something like home.

 Whatever. He’s not too worried about it.

 “Hey mate.” Phil waved him over with a few shirts in his arms. “Do you know your size?”

 Tommy shook his head.

 “Hm, didn’t think so. Here.” Phil grabbed one of the shirts and put it up to his chest. “You look around a medium? We’ll try that and see from there, okay?”

 “Okay.”

 Phil walked off again.

 Right. Tommy thought as he turned back to the clothing racks. Time to pick out some clothes.

 “PHIL!” Grabbing the shirt Phil put in the cart, Tommy threw it back onto the shelf in a heap.

 “What?!” Phil asked while dying of laughter.

 It seemed any piece of clothing Tommy even glanced at was put in the cart. The poor trolly was nearly spilling with clothes at this point.

 . . .

 Well, not really. But there’s a lot of clothes! He hasn’t had this many clothes since he was eight!

 “Stop putting shit in the cart! I don’t need it!” Tommy screeched as he took a handful of shirts and flung them back in the shelf. Phil was cracking up at this point. His back arched with his arms around his gut with tears in his eyes. It was obvious the man found this humorous.

 After recollecting himself, Phil grabbed the discarded clothes and put them back in the cart, ignoring the glare he got for it. “You do need it! And so I’m providing! Now go pick out some more jeans, you only have five so far.”

 “ ONLY five. Prime, how rich are you, motherfucker?” Tommy muttered as he continued down the aisle.

 During his journey to the jeans section, a certain color caught his eye.

 R e d.

 Pushing some of the other clothes aside revealed a red shirt. It was so his style. An oversized red T-shirt over a greyish-white long sleeve. On the front it had a sort of spray paint design on the chest. And, get this. It was SUPER soft.

 Tommy eyed it for a solid minute, rubbing his fingers against the soft fabric before glancing at the price tag.

 £99.99

 “Hell no,” Tommy cursed as he turned to finish his journey towards the jeans.

 It's been a solid three hours of shopping. They’ve been to a total of five stores, a shoe store, two clothes stores, and two miscellaneous stores where he got a few things for his the guest room. Safe to say, Tommy was fully shopped out.

 Finally, they started making their way to the car to put the bags in the trunk. With a press of a button on his key fob, Phil popped the trunk open and set his share of bags down before shuffling to the side to make room for Tommy.

 As he watched Tommy put his bags down, Phil let out a soft breath, “Phew. Are you ready for some lunch?”

 Tommy moved back to let Phil close the trunk. “Uh, I guess.”

 Phil smiled at him as he leaned against his car, “Do you want to eat here in the food court or go somewhere else?”

 Glancing at the crowded entrance, he cringed. He really didn’t want to deal with that anymore. Phil must have seen his expression cause he said, “Come on mate, There's a nice place near home we can go to.”

 “Okay.”

~~{o0o}~~

 The restaurant they entered was more like a café that sells burgers than a restaurant. Turns out, a few minutes out from Phil’s house was a small town. It didn’t have much, mostly just old roads with a post office, a grocery store, a few small gift shops and a record store.

 The café was called The Goldenrod Café. The name was in a shiny gold above the main entrance while the building was white and sky blue with yellow flowers planted all around. The inside wasn’t much different, with blue and white painted walls with matching tables and light yellow chairs. On every table was a vase full of yellow flowers.

 “Hello Phil! Tommy!” Niki called from behind the front counter.

 “Hello Niki. How are you today?” Phil asked as he led them towards her.

 Niki gave a gentle smile as she chuckled, “I’m doing wonderful! Though I'm pretty sure I’m the one who should be the one asking you that first.”

 Phil smiled and waved her off, “Of course, of course. We’ve been fine, went out and got this one some new clothes.” Phil gestured to Tommy.

 “Oh that's good to hear!” Niki said, glancing towards Tommy. “Did you have a fun time?”

 Blinking, Tommy stopped to think about it. He got new clothes, some new shoes and this water gun he was excited to mess around with. Phil was a delight to be around, surprisingly. Overall, yeah. He did have a good time.

 Tommy nodded and a faint smile creeped upon his lips.

 “That's good.” She gave another small smile, her purple lipstick shining in the gentle light. “Right! Table for two?”

 “Yup!” Phil confirmed as Niki started walking around the counter. She was wearing a dark purple tank top to match her makeup, tucked into her dark blue jeans while the outfit was paired white sneakers and a blue, white and yellow apron tied around her waist.

 “Right this way you two!” Niki began leading them towards the large window to the right of the front door. There was a small blue table with two yellow chairs on each side and of course there was another vase of flowers. Niki handed them both a decent sized menu. “I’ll be back in a few minutes to get your drinks.”

 “Thank you Niki. You’re doing amazing as always.” Phil said as she started leaving.

 “Yeah, yeah. I get it. I’m great.” She waved him off as Phil chuckled. Tommy stared at the menu.

 “You know what drink you want?” Phil asked.

 Tommy shrugged, “I’ll just have a coke.” He paused and glanced wearily up at him. “If- if that's okay. . .”

 Phil nodded at him, “That’s fine. You can get whatever you want,” before glancing down at his own menu. “I’m probably going to get a coffee.”

 Pulling his phone out of his pocket, Tommy checked the time.

 “Phil.”

 “Hm?”

 “It’s five in the evening. Phil.”

 Phil looked up at him with a frown. “Yeah?”

 They both stare at each other for a few seconds.

 “Isn’t it-,” Tommy paused, realizing who he was talking to. “Never mind.” Phil gave him a questioning look before Niki returned with a notepad in hand.

 “Ready to order your drinks?”

 Phil looks at Tommy before smiling and nodding at Niki, “Yeah, just a coke and a coffee. Black.”

 Niki paused her writing and glazed up at Phil. “Black?”

 Phil nodded.

 She let out a sharp exhale and deadpanned, “Phil. It’s five pm.”

 “What does-”

 “THAT'S WHAT I SAID!” Tommy shouted as he shot up from his seat before immediately freezing and sitting back down. He looked out the window waiting to be screamed at. He really had been pushing it all day. This was it. This was what every family ever yelled at him for. He squeezed his eyes shut.

 Phil just gave a small chuckle, “It is a bit late for coffee isn’t it?” Tommy glanced up at him sheepishly. The man smiled at him and looked at Niki who had a pitting gaze. “I guess a de-cafe wouldn’t be a bad idea.”

 Niki blinked and scratched something down on her notepad before looking up again. “Alright! I’ll go get those for you two, then I will come take your orders.”

 “Thank you Niki.”

 She nodded stiffly before turning away and Tommy sighed when she disappeared into the back room.

 “You’re okay, Tommy.” Tommy whipped his head up to face Phil. He laid his hand flat on the table stretched out towards Tommy. “We’re okay.” He smiled.

 Glancing at his hand, Tommy then looked up at the man with sparkling earrings in his ears and nodded mutely.

~~{o0o}~~

 Later when they got back and got all of Tommy’s new belongings into the guest room, Tommy started to unpack one of the bags from the clothes store.

 Slowly, he went through pulling the tags off clothes he had already tried on and organizing them to be washed.

 Red shirt. Colored pile.

 Grey sweats. Whites.

 Green shirt. Colored.

 Black jeans. Darks.

 Another red shirt. Colored.

 Blue jeans. Darks.

 He had gone through most of the bag at this point and mindlessly pulled out another red shirt with incredibly soft fabric before freezing and taking another look at it.

 It was an oversized T-shirt with a greyish-white long sleeve under it with a design on the chest Tommy had liked very much. He glanced at the price tag.

 £99.99

 “ PHIIIIL!!!”

 Down stairs Phil began choking and sputtering on his tea with laughter, as his sons both gave him questioning looks.

~~{o0o}~~

:D :) XD

Chapter Text

River Days

 The next morning was an odd morning. Tommy had a hard time describing it. Since the sun had risen, it felt like something was coming and Tommy didn’t know what. It was almost anxiety inducing. Like a looming presence was coming to devour his soul, on its way to do Prime knows what.

 With a toothbrush in hand, Tommy scrubbed at his teeth as the anxious feeling started to grow. It was like he was forgetting something. Like he forgot something and it was coming back to haunt him. Something was coming for him.

 Spitting, rinsing his brush off under the faucet, Tommy shook his head as he whipped his mouth with a spare towel. He’s being irrational. . . Right?

 Yes. He was overreacting and after a rough night's sleep, Tommy usually has a hard time getting out of bed the next morning. He should just get down stairs and start his already late day. Tommy was just finally gonna head down stairs at twelve in the afternoon. He wonders if Phil is going to be mad at him.

 Taking one more glance at the mirror, Tommy took a short moment to fawn and fret over the new, over expensive, shirt Phil had bought him. Behind his back might he mention. He won’t admit it out loud but he truly loves this shirt. It was so comfortable and it was just so- him. So Tommy. He can’t remember the last time he felt like himself.

 As he takes one last look around, Tommy absentmindedly turns the volume up on his phone, feeling the music vibrate in his ears.

 I know where you stand,

 Silent in the trees.

 And that's where I am,

 Silent in the trees.

 To get his mind off the whole “something's coming for him” fiasco, Tommy had music blasting in his ears from the moment he woke up.

 Why won’t you speak,

 Where I happen to be?

 Silent in the trees,

Standing cowardly.

 Making his way back toward the guest room, he hummed the lyrics of Trees by twenty ø ne pil ø ts as he pushed open the door. Tossing his bathroom supplies back into his open bag, he began to make his way downstairs.

 While he walked down the hall, he attempted to turn up the music again but it proved to be unsuccessful. Damnit, it was on the highest volume already. While the music was already a bit loud from a doctor's perspective, it was much too quiet in Tommy’s. The boy frowned and simply turned the music off. He had to be social anyway, might as well turn it off before he’s forced.

 Letting his headphones dangle from his shoulders, Tommy walked down the stairs and into the oddly quiet foyer. Weirdly enough, the living room and kitchen didn’t have its normal hustle and bustle. No TVs were playing, no one was humming from the couch as they read, and no clattering and banging of pots and pans was coming from the kitchen. The only thing giving away the house's current inhabitants was the distant echoes of laughter coming from his left.

 Following the sound of quiet chatter led Tommy into the family room. It was a lot more elegant, proper and formal than the living room. Soft matching whites and browns compared to the humble neat mess of the other room, while the whole room was dressed in white lace on top of polished furniture. With a shining marble, electric fireplace on the left wall, a large leather couch and matching armchair was facing it. Besides some other pretty furniture, the room was empty, so it held no interest to Tommy and he walked past the couch towards what looked like- another foyer.

 Prime! How big is this house?! Tommy thought as he peeked through the window of the side door. It seemed to lead to a porch. A large grey porch. Again, no one was there so Tommy turned away and nearly jumped from his skin when he was met with a large opening into the game room. There, on the large turquoise couch, was Phil and Techno sitting side by side watching the large TV. It looked like a bunch of cartoon characters in racing cars. Tommy silently wondered where Wilbur was.

 “Mate, how the fuck do you drift?” Phil asked as his shoulders tensed. The sound of clicking buttons got louder.

 “Magic.” Techno responded drily, leaning to the side as one of the characters on the split screen drifted on a rainbow themed road.

 Oh! They’re playing a video game!

 Creeping forward, Tommy stood on his tiptoes to see if he could get a glimpse at what they were doing. He could get a vague glance of Phil's fingers going white from gripping a small green controller. Tommy’s never seen a controller quite like that one before. Not to mention that small.

 Then, in Phil and Techno’s deep concentration, it went quiet. The only noise was the characters talking, or more shouting, and the occasional taps and clicks from the controllers.

 As a little white ghost character sped past a checkered line, a deep voice echoed “FINISHED” along with a gold sign shining in the middle of the screen.

 Phil slumped back on the couch with a grown. “Damnit! How the hell are you so good at this?” The older man sighed with a laugh.

 Techno shrugged as he clicked through what looked like credits, “Hmn, natural talent.”

 “Pfft-! Natural talent?!” Phil repeated with a loud laugh as he threw his arms on the back of the couch. As he leaned back he glanced over his shoulder, pausing when he saw Tommy's hunch form. The boy silently waited for the scolding.

 “Oh! Tommy! I’m glad to see you up! Sorry we didn’t wake you up, I thought it best to let you sleep in after yesterday.”

 “Oh,” Tommy tried to relax himself. “Uhm, thanks. I appreciated it.”

 Phil gave him a warm smile before glancing at the TV. He turned back around, his smile not falling. “Would you like to join us? We’re about to play another round before lunch.”

 Tommy glanced up to see the game was back on the starting menu. He flushed, “Uhm. . . I don’t wanna intrude. . .”

 “Nonsense.” Phil gestured him forward and patted the seat in between him and Techno. “It’s just Mario Kart. It’s a fun game! Have you ever played?”

 Tommy shook his head as he started walking towards them and around the couch before sitting next to Phil. Techno handed him a small red controller.

 “That’s okay, me and Techno can teach you.” Phil showed him his green controller, it was placed horizontally in his fingers, his right thumb over four little buttons and his left rested on a small thumb stick. Both his pointer fingers rested on the two buttons on the top of the controller. “So, you hold it like this.”

 Tommy did so, and soon, Phil was explaining how to play and after a few tries, Tommy quickly got the hang of it. Soon he was racing past the finish line.

 “FINISHED!”

 “HA!” Tommy shouted in victory as he shot up from his seat, controller high above his head. He was wearing a large smile as his character, Racoon Mario, danced and celebrated with him . Phil was laughing beside him.

 “See! You’re great at this!”

 “Hell yeah I am!”

 Techno rolled his eyes but a fond smile graced his lips. “Yeah, yeah. You did good kid. Now, I’m hungry. Let's go get some lunch.” He stood, stretching his back as his spine let out a few soft pops.

 Phil nodded, standing with the other two and starting towards the kitchen. “I’m thinking of some classic sandwiches. What do you two think?”

 After eating, around twenty minutes later, Tommy learns his earlier anxiety was some kind of foresight. Just as he finished his ham and cheese sandwich, the front door was thrust open and a pair of feet was walking their way. Now, that wasn’t the problem, the door opening, the problem was both Phil and Techno glancing up in slight alarm. Now, that was enough to throw him for a loop.

 Turning in the stool to face the kitchen doorway, Tommy stared at the entrance with furrowed brows. . . before Drista herself was poking her head through the kitchen doorway with a big dopey smile. Tommy choked in surprise.

 “Hello!” She chirped, waving. There was a small bent bobby pin between her fingers. She turned to a now relaxed Phil. “We’re messing around by the river! Mind if I take Tommy?” Without waiting for an answer, Drista started making her way towards the boy in question.

 “Oh Prime. Not again.”

 Phil laughed, “Yeah sure, I don’t see why not. Also! Again! Didn’t I lock that door?” As Drista promptly hid her hands behind her back, Tommy let his head fall onto the counter with a thump .

 “Oh come on, it’ll be fun!” She reassured as she grabbed the sleeve of his shirt. The bobby pin was now nowhere in sight. While she dragged Tommy from his seat she continued, “Don’t worry! Tubbo and Purpled will be there!”

 “Oh joy.”

 Tommy stayed complacent as he was dragged towards the front door and prompted to put his shoes on. He did so, putting on his brand new red Converse, and now he was being dragged towards the wood once again.

 Being led from the house and across the field towards the wood, Tommy puts his hands in his pockets as they proceed to enter and make their way through the forest. They walked down the same path Tubbo took him yesterday. The only difference was, a little past Ranboo’s tree house, they turned right onto a smaller path leading them away from the fire pit. As they walked down the leaf covered path, Tommy listened to Drista’s random rambling. Turns out she was a lot more entertaining than he thought.

 “And then, at dinner, I threatened to take Dream’s eyes out with a fork!” Drista exclaimed with a devilish look in her eyes.

 “PFFFT- HA!” Tommy couldn’t help but start roaring with laughter.

 “The best part was we hardly knew each other yet! I was just some random foster girl threatening his eyes with a fork.”

 Tommy chuckled, slowing his walking a bit. “You’re a foster kid?”

 “Mhm! I got adopted by Puffy when I was nine. I’ve been adopted for four years now.”

 “Lucky.” Tommy couldn’t help but grouch.

 Drista gave him a sympathetic glance. “You’ll find your family one day. I promise.”

 Tommy didn’t respond as they continued down the path, soon it started to decline and then they were walking down wooden steps. In the distance, Tommy could hear rushing water from the river.

 Turning left, they slowly decline more and more until they’re walking side by side with the roaring waters. With the crashing waves pounding in Tommy’s ears, he could see the vague outline of people running around up ahead.

 “Come on!” Drista encouraged as she started sprinting further down the path. After a few grumbles in protest, Tommy chased after the girl.

 Meeting the river, a large creak is bubbling and splashing with movement as a currently shirtless Tubbo and Purpled are attacking each other in the knee deep water. Drista seems to be joining them from the way she's pulling off her sandals.

 Sitting on rocks, Dream and that one red headed dude are letting their feet dangle in the cold water.

 “Tommy!!” Tubbo calls as he starts splashing his way towards the blonde with big slow steps.

 Sitting by the riverside, Tommy greets the other, “Hello Tubso.”

 He giggles, “How are you?”

 Tommy shrugged as the other settled himself right at Tommy’s knees. “Fine. You?”

 Tubbo grins. “Good! You wanna join us?” he asks just as Drista hops into the water, splashing her brother in the process. In retaliation, Dream starts kicking water her way. Purpled quickly joins in on the bullying.

 Tommy smiles but tries to hide it by biting his lower lip. “Uhm. . . I don’t know. . .” Tubbo’s face immediately falls.

 “Awe! Come on! Please! It’s fun!” He whined looking up at Tommy with big sad puppy eyes.

 “Uhhhh,” Tommy awkwardly scratched the back of his head as he desperately avoided the others' grieving gaze. Looking back and past Tubbo, Tommy starred as Purpled pulled the now screaming ginger -Funny- Fundo? F-Fundy- wasn’t it?- into the creak. Dream follows on his own accord to start splashing and chasing Drista.

 It looks so much fun. They look like they're having such a blast. He really wants to join in on the rough housing and here Tubbo is inviting him. Tommy looked back at the other. His puppy eyes have only gotten bigger.

 “Uhm. . .”

 “Oh, just get in! Stop being a pussy!” He heard Purpled call.

 Okay, now he messed up.

 “Alright dickhead! I’m comin’ for you now,” Tommy exclaimed as he started pulling his shirt up and over his head. Look, he may be reckless, but there was no way in hell his was getting this stupid nice shirt wet and ruined. He folded it and put it aside before he toed off his shoes and socks. Pulling his phone and headphones from his pocket and throwing them aside, he plunged into the cold water. Then he was pushing his way towards a now fleeing Purpled.

 It was around thirty minutes later that Satan had to reign hell on their fun. In the middle of Tommy being chased by a screaming Tubbo, Wilbur, the fucking bitch-ass himself, showed up to ruin all of their fun.

 “AHHH- Oh hey Wilbur!”

 As the brunette pushed a few low branches from his face, Wilbur smiled at the younger as he emerged from the woods. “Hey Tubbo.”

 “Yo! What took you so long?!” Fundy called from the rock beside Tommy.

 Wilbur grumbled as he sat down in front of them. “Both mine and Techno’s tree house are literally on the opposite side of the river. Then I couldn’t find my glasses so I thought I left them at home.” He pointed to the glasses resting on his nose. “Turns out I was right.”

 “Sounds like stupid decision to leave them behind in the first place,” Tommy mumbled under his breath.

 Wilbur glared, “It was a long morning.”

 Tubbo, being between the both, glanced back and forth before settling his gaze on Wilbur. “You gonna come back in?” He brightens. “We’re playing tag!”

 Wilbur’s earlier tense glare washes away as he gives Tubbo a soft, tired smile. “Sorry kid, I’m all watered out.”

 Tubbo pouted.

 “What does that even mean?” Drista asked in a hushed whisper.

 Tommy and Dream snickered.

 The pouting brunette seemed like he wanted to argue but thought better of it because he just said, “Oki,” before going back to finish his game against Tommy.

 “Two out of three?” Tubbo asked, his smile returning.

 Tommy smirked back. “You’re on.”

 It was ten minutes later when their fun finally had to end. Tommy knew it was coming. He was bracing himself for it. For him to be pulled from his happiness. His release. He just didn’t expect for it to end so brutally.

 “What the hell,” Wilbur cursed under his breath. But it was loud enough for them all to hear. With Fundy and Purpled to his right, resting on the rocks with their feet wading in the icy water, Dream and Drista wrestling and playing in the water to their right, while Tommy and Tubbo splashed about closer to the river. They all heard the start of Wilbur's wrath.

 “What-?” Fundy started but was promptly ignored and cut off by Wilbur.

 “Tommy!”

 The blonde in question was in the middle of shoving a screaming brunette into waters, so he wasn’t quite paying attention.

 “What do you want, bitch?” With a lazy smirk he glanced up after making sure Tubbo wasn’t clinging to him but his face quickly fell with the way Wilbur's nostrils flared. “Uh-”

 As he picked himself up off the ground, Tommy could see his new shirt held tightly in Wilbur’s grip.

 Oh shit.

 “What the hell was this doing on the ground?” Wilbur seethed, holding up the shirt as it hung limply in his hand.

 “I uh-”

 “Do you know how much money this was?! How much this is worth?!” Wilbur asked, his face turning pink with anger.

 “I-” He couldn’t get a word in before Wilbur exploded.

 “Do you not care that Dad spent hundreds on you yesterday for you to just- treat it as nothing?!” Wilbur started as Tommy’s body locked up. “Oh my PRIME! ” Tommy flinched. “You really are a worthless brat.”

 Purpled was standing now and began to pointlessly try and reason with the raging adult. “Wil-”

 Wilbur ignored him as he started thundering his way towards the shaking blonde. “I knew it from the start. You were going to come into my home, disrupt my family and take advantage of everything you could get your grubby little hands onto.”

 “Wil-!” Purpled tried again but he was ignored once again.

 “Dad has the kindest of hearts and you used him.” A shiver went down Tommy’s spine. 

 “N-no! I would never! I-”

 “SHUT UP!!”

 Tommy’s mouth clicked shut as his breaths started to stutter and heave. He couldn’t feel his fingers from how tight he was gripping his crossed arms.

 “He bought you a whole wardrobe! Spent hundreds of pounds on you that he spent thousands of hours working for! And you treat it like dirt. It disgusts me. You disgust me.” His arms fell to his side in anguish. “I knew it from the start. You were just an attention seeking brat. And I tried to warn Dad! I tried to tell him you were trouble. I saw your records!” Tommy’s mind froze. Everyone around them did too. Everyone was tense now. Everyone except Wilbur. “I saw what you’ve done! The problems you cause!”

 If he looked closely, Wilbur's eyes seemed to be shining. Shining with tears. He seemed to be holding them back though. But Tommy couldn’t focus on it. He couldn’t focus on anything right now. Because right at that moment, Tommy realized he couldn’t breath and his legs were finally giving out on him and he was plunging into rushing water.

 As his skin went white from the change in temperature, his chest felt hot with shame. Wilbur was right. He was such a waste . Such a problem. Such a burden. Why was he still here if all he caused was pain? He hurt Phil. He hurt Wilbur. And he would hurt everyone else with time. And what time did he have left? How much time was he going to give himself?

 The cold water pulled him to the floor of the creak. It was cold. It was so damn cold and his brain was scattered and he couldn’t find the energy to put it back together again. So he waited patiently for someone else to do it. Surprisingly, they did. Someone's arms snaked around his abdomen and pulled him toward the surface. A firm hand is gently on the nap of his neck, keeping his head from falling back.

 With the sun blinding his eyes and the crashing sound of rushing water flooding his ears again, everything felt like too much. He began hyperventilating, choking on leftover water.

 While his breaths came in and out, labored and stuttered, he could faintly hear yelling and shouting, but to his ears it was all mushed together. Not a word made sense. Sounded real.

 Despite the hand resting gently against his neck, Tommy didn’t have the energy to keep his head from falling limply to the side. It was stopped by small calloused fingers before pushing him to face forward again. The pressure didn’t leave. He didn’t want it to.

 “-om-y.”

 “W-a- were y-u -inkin-?!”

 “-omm-.”

 “-ou o- a-l peo-le sh-ou-ld kn—”

 “Guys! H-’s n-ot re-po-n-ing!”

 “S–t.”

 Tommy’s ears start to ring.

 “̵̗̈́W̴̹̋e̸̥̓–̴̲͛ ̴̺̀e̶͎̚e̶̻͌d̷͚͑-̶̘͋ ̵͇̽P̴͕–̴̮̎l̴͙̆.̵̢͐”̶̲̋

 ̶̛̥“̶̛̲Ó̸͍–̶̟͂ ̶̺̌i̶͈̍–̶̪̈́.̴̫͛”̵͇̃

 ̶̦̒.̸̗̊ ̵̯͘.̴̰̈́ ̶̜͆.̸̯

 ̴̣̎“̸̭̄T̶̠͘h̸̦͊-̵̝͘s̸͕͆ ̸͙-̷̡̇ǫ̵̃n̵̜̍-̴̜͆e̵̛͉r̴̨-̷͔͒s̶̹a̶̙̋-̸͖͑ò̴͎ṉ̴̊ ̷̤͆i̴̩͘-̴̣̑n̴͎͂’̵͔̈́t̷̞̕ ̸̥͒o̷̝̊-̸͔̐e̵̝͛ř̵̗.̵̹̈”̶͉̽

 ̷͙͛.̵̘ ̴͍̒.̸̺̐ ̷̱̈.̶̣

 ̴̝̕“̷̦̋Ḧ̶̗e̵̥͊–̸̹̚!̸͉̐ ”̷̜͌

 Everything went dark.

~~{o0o}~~

:D :) XD

Chapter Text

Showing Scars

 “When will he wake up?” Someone asked in a hushed whisper.

 “Patience, Tubbo.” Another said firmly. Her voice sounded soft and sweet paired with her accent. “He’ll wake up when his mind and body let him.” It was a German accent. Tommy likes it.

 The other huffed in indignation as soft footsteps approached them. They were quiet, light and airy. They would be silent if not for the pops and creaks of wood shifting.

 “Is he up yet?” a new, deeper voice, asked.

 “No,” the sweet voice responded sadly. He frowned.

 “Prime, Wil really fucked up this time,” the new one responded bitterly. It made Tommy want to curl in on himself. “Anyway, Phil is on his way.”

 “Good.” Tommy felt a hand thread gently through his hair. His body melted. Someone chuckled as footsteps left.

 Tommy let his eyes flutter open to see someone in a green hoodie disappearing behind a pastel pink door surrounded by many colorful flowers. Someone to his right gasped. He glanced over from where he was lying to see a very jittery Tubbo, sitting with bouncing legs on a neon green chair. He could feel his head draped over someone's lap.

 “There you are,” the sweet voice said as her hand continued to comb through his hair. Tommy didn’t want to move from it. So, he didn’t. He stayed still with lidded eyes looking up into pretty hazel ones. Niki smiled down at him. “Hi. How are you feeling?”

 Tommy opened his mouth before promptly shutting it and shrugging. It was a bit hard considering he was laying down, but he managed.

 “Don’t feel like talking?” Niki asked quietly.

 Tommy just nodded as he let his eyes close.

 “That's okay. You’re okay,” she reassured as her nails continued to scratch gently against his scalp, then the room was dipped into a semi-comfortable silence. The only noise being the gentle breathing coming from the three people in the room and the twinkling chimes coming from the swinging wind decorations.

 After an unknown amount of time passes, a knock came echoing from the door. Tommy scrambled into a sitting position. That was when he realized his shirt was back on and a few towels were wrapped around his legs.

 After giving Tommy a worried glance, Niki stood and made her way towards the door, opening it to reveal a disheveled looking Phil. With his hair out of its normal neat ponytail, Phil breathed heavily. His shiny blonde hair was frizzy and all over the place as if he had been running. There was even a leaf in his bangs that Niki pulled out for him. He gave her a grateful nod with a gentle smile before slowly approaching Tommy.

 “Are you. . . alright? Tommy?” Phil asked hesitantly, as if he already knew the answer but was fearing actually hearing it. Confirming it.

 Tommy opened his mouth to tell him he was fine. But nothing came out. His mouth closed with a click and he began silently panicking as he picked at his nails.

 “I- I don’t think Tommy feels like talking. . . right now. . .” Niki said. “Is that- correct? Tommy?”

 He just nodded, squeezing his eyes shut. Why couldn’t he just speak?! Why couldn’t he just be normal?! He genuinely couldn’t find it in himself to spit these words out of his mouth. It felt like such an impossible task and he knew he was expected to actually be a decent human being and explain himself. Prime, he was such a problem. He was such a waist. A problem. A burden. Annoying. Wilbur was right. He should just–

 Phil was suddenly crouching in front of him with a worried frown gracing his lips. “That’s okay. . .” Is it? “Can you answer yes or no questions with just a head shake please? I need to make sure you’re doing okay.”

 Tommy immediately nodded. Be complacent, he told himself silently. You’ll be less of a problem.

 Phil smiled, “Are you feeling better?”

 After a beat, Tommy just nodded his head. He was fine. He thinks. He’s pretty sure. If not, he would be though. Phil’s face fell. He opened his mouth to say something before seeming to think better of it and moving onto the next question. “Do you think you can walk?”

 Tommy glanced at his feet and began moving them a bit. Wiggling his toes and rolling his ankles after letting his knees swing back and forth across the walnut floors. He should be able to. Right?

 Tommy just nodded again. If he couldn’t, he’d just force himself. It wasn’t like Phil would carry him.

 Phil relaxed a bit. “Okay. . . I want to get you home-” Tommy flinch. “-as soon as I can. No one should feel 100% after an attack like that.” As Phil spoke, he seemed to look Tommy over. The man's fingers twitched towards him. It was as if he wanted to poke around at him. Wanted to look for any physical injuries. Tommy could almost imagine the man gently cupping his jaw as he slowly guided his head back and forth, up and down, looking for marks or bruises. Tommy kinda wants to let him. To look over him, make sure he’s unharmed and safe, to take care of the wounds he does end up finding. Coddle him for once in his life- Wait! Stop! What was he talking about!? No! NO! He does not need Phil fussing and fretting over him like some incapable toddler! No!

 Tommy glared at the man and jerked his head away to look at the far wall. He could just barely see the confused expression Phil was sending his way. Tommy just ignored it.

 “Alright. . . Tommy I-”

 Another knock came from the door. Niki opened it revealing Techno’s neutral, almost bored expression.

 “Oh! Techno!” Phil addressed his son as he stood from his crouching position with a low groan. “Is Wi-” He stopped himself. “Is he still by the firepit?”

 Techno nodded, “Yeah, he’s not too excited to see you though. So take your time.”

 Phil frowned, “He does know I’m not gonna yell at him, right?”

 Techno nodded again, “It’s been ten years Phil. Of course he does. But he knows you’re upset.”

 That was when Phil’s expression became pinched and frustrated. “Of course I’m upset.” He sighed and waved Techno off. “I’ll be down in a moment.”

 Techno hummed in acknowledgement and glanced towards Tommy. They stared at each other for a moment before Techno disappeared behind the door.

 “I do believe an apology is in order, Tommy.” Tommy whipped his head around to face the other. Phil just smiled at him and glanced towards the other two in the room. “Can I speak to him in private for just a moment please? I apologize I-”

 “Don’t worry about it Phil,” Niki said with a smile, “I don’t mind. Promise. Come on Tubbo.” She gestured for the younger to follow and then the door was closing behind them with a soft click, silencing the room.

 Phil took a seat beside Tommy on the couch with his hands folded in his lap. His smile had gone sad again. It makes Tommy’s skin tingle uncomfortably.

 “Tommy. I-”

 “If you’re going to be apologizing for Wilbur, don't.” Tommy doesn’t know how he got himself to speak again. But he did.

 . . .

 “Wilbur’s actions are his own. I don’t want you to feel guilty or- or- or- I don’t know. Don’t feel bad for them. You didn’t do anything. He did.” Tommy finished stubbornly, burning a hole into the floor.

 Phil quietly cleared his throat. “I appreciate hearing that, Tommy. I do. But I wasn’t going to apologize for Wilbur.”

 Tommy froze. Shit. Shit. Shit! Prime, what is wrong with him! Tommy just accused this man's son of doing something wrong. He just told him his son made a mistake. What if- what if Phil doesn’t think Wilbur did anything wrong in the first place! He probably thinks what Wilbur said was all true! Prime, Tommy is such a fool, so stupid.

 “I-I’m sorry! I should have kept my mouth shut! That was my fault! I’m sorry! I-”

 “Woah! Woah! Slow down. Take a breath!” Phil said calmly, showing Tommy his palms. “I’m not mad. You did nothing wrong. Wilbur will be apologizing later. I’m here to apologize for my own actions.”

 Tommy’s breathing slowed.

 Does he mean the clothes? Buying me the expensive things?

 “Tommy. I should have realized this sooner, but I didn’t and that’s my fault.” Phil paused and took a deep breath. “I should have realized sooner that Wil just- Wilbur wasn’t ready.” He looked up to make eye contact with Tommy. “Tommy. He. . . isn’t ready for another person to come into the house. And I- Prime. . .”

 Phil stopped to give himself a moment, his gaze falling again. Tommy waited patently.

 “When I told the boys that I was bringing in another foster kid. They seemed fine with it at first. Well- Techno did. Wilbur. . . he has a hard time with these things. I would tell you why,-” Phil looked up again. “-but it’s not my past to share. And he told me later that he didn’t- that he wasn’t ready. But I told him it was fine and went along and signed the papers. That was my mistake.”

 Ouch-

 Phil’s eyes widened realizing what he said. “I should have waited to sign. I should have given him a week or two to think it over and agree to the decision with us, as a family. So I’m terribly sorry Tommy. Because Wilbur is not ready and is now taking his anger out on you.”

 Taking a moment to absorb this new information, Tommy glanced away from Phil in order to stare at the far wall. It was decorated with all kinds of colorful flowers.

 “Okay. . .” Tommy knows he should say more, but he honestly doesn’t know how to take this information. He guesses he should thank Phil anyway for the apology. “Thank you. . .”

 As Phil’s smile brightens again, he gestures for Tommy to stand with him. “Why don’t we go home and watch a movie? I have one in mind I think you’ll like.”

 Nodding, Tommy follows Phil towards the door and begins to make his way through and down the vine covered ladder. Phil follows from behind.

 At the bottom of the ladder, Niki, Tubbo, Dream, and Techno are waiting for them.

 “Why don’t you go home with Techno,” Phil suggests with a gentle hand finding its way between Tommy’s shoulder blades. After a tight flinch, the hand swiftly removes itself.  “I’ll be right behind you two.”

 “Okay. . .” Tommy says quietly as he takes a hesitant step towards the pink-haired man. The man just nods gently at him, gesturing him forward with a gentle beckoning motion.

 “Techno?” The man looks up at Phil. “Why don't you play our movie for him when you get home,” Phil says quietly, as if it's a deep, hidden, secret. Tommy is now very interested in what this movie is.

 In response, Techno nods and begins to make his way down the path. Tommy scurries after him.

 Beginning to walk side by side, the two of them stay in relative silence as the sound of the river rushes by, pounding on rocks as the roar fills Tommy's ears. Glancing around, Tommy realizes he's never seen this part of the woods before. The place is littered with bright Japanese maples.

 “Where are we?” Tommy asks quietly.

 Techno clears his throat. “We’re just a bit away from the river. You and Phil were just in Niki’s tree house. Hannah’s is further down that way.” He points a thumb over his shoulder towards, apparently, Niki’s treehouse.

 “Oh. . .”

 They continue in silence.

 . . .

 “Are you feeling alright?” Techno asks hesitantly.

 Tommy nods. “Yeah.” He pauses. “I feel fine.” He doesn’t, he feels like utter shit and it seems Techno knows this. He gives Tommy a disbelieving look. But the man seems to know better than to push and leaves it.

 After a few more strides, Techno is pushing a branch out the way revealing the creak they were playing in earlier. A shiver goes down Tommy’s spine.

 “Come on, there's a bridge over here,” Techno mumbles as he turns right to follow the water.

 Like Techno said, ahead of them was a small bridge that led to some old wooden steps. They crossed and began climbing their way up the short hill. After a few steps, it went flat for a bit, then climbed four more steps and made it up to level ground. Together they found their way onto the main path, right outside of the fire pit.

 They hear shouting. Tommy paused and stopped walking. He watched as Techno stopped walking as well, looking back at the younger with a blank expression.

 “Dad!” Wilbur’s voice sounds irritated and desperate with an underlayer of shame. “You know I’m right, I-”

 Phil cut him off, “Stop. Wil. You are acting like a child right now.”

 “But-! He’s-!”

 “Nope. Take a breath. You aren’t listening.”

 Wilbur stopped talking.

 “Good. Okay. Do you understand what you caused was incredibly unnecessary?”

 Wilbur didn’t respond.

 “I need a response Wil.”

 “. . .”

 “Wil-”

 “YES! Yes I know!”

 . . .

 “Then I need to know why you did it.” Phil started. “Why did you purposefully set him off?”

 . . .

 “Come on. . .” Techno mumbled next to Tommy as he gestured for the blonde to follow. “Let’s get back to the house.”
After glancing behind himself, Tommy sighed and made his way back beside Techno.

 “I-Is he going to be in trouble?” Tommy asked wearily. “Is he going to get. . .” He trailed off. He may not get along with the other man, but didn’t mean he wanted him to get in trouble, or hurt. . .

 Techno responds swiftly. “He’ll be in trouble, yes, but he won’t be. . . you know. . .” Techno glanced down at him with- something, in his eyes. His amber eyes didn’t hold their familiar blankness anymore. They shined with something else. Something sad. “I promise you Tommy. As long as you’re here and longer, Phil will never hurt you, or me, or Wilbur.” The man looked forward again. “He will never hurt us.”

 Tommy doesn’t believe him.

~~{o0o}~~

 “Cocoa?” Techno asked Tommy with a grayish brown cup held limply in his hand as he leaned on the counter on the other side of the island. When they made it back, Tommy had gotten changed out of his still slightly damp clothes, per Techno’s request, and into comfy sweats and his red hoodie. Now he was hunched in on himself at the island, fiddling with his fingers, while Techno was apparently making hot chocolate. “And I don’t mean those cheap packets, I mean the good homemade stuff.”

 Glancing up, Tommy blankly eyed the mug before shrugging, letting his gaze fall limply to the speckled gray countertop again. He wished he could just answer. But ever since getting back to the house, he’s been nothing but unresponsive. Socializing and giving answers was just too tiring right now. He was such a pest.

 Surprisingly, Techno didn’t yell at him. Or even glare. In the corner of his eyes, Tommy watched as he stared for a few moments, before turning back towards the stove.

 It felt like Tommy only blinked before a warm mug slid towards him. After nervously glancing up at Techno, Tommy stared blankly at the mountain of whip cream with cinnamon and crumbled sugar cookie sprinkled on top. Then he eyed the candy cane poking out of the mug. The drink looked like something out of a Christmas movie.

 Tommy frowned, wasn’t it the middle of summer?

 As if he heard Tommy’s thoughts, Techno mumbled, “Cocoa is more than just a winter drink.” He gestured for Tommy to follow him out of the kitchen with his own mug in hand. “Come on.”

 Carefully picking up his drink, Tommy slowly followed after the man. He felt a bit nervous carrying around this warm drink, but he managed and soon Tommy was walking into the living room.

 The couch was covered in blankets. No. Smothered . You couldn’t see the actual furniture under it all. Tommy watched silently as Techno took his usual seat at the far left on the couch, throwing a few blankets over his legs and around his shoulders. The shifts of blankets did nothing to reveal the original couch. Techno gently patted the seat next to him.

 “I turned the heat down so we don’t overheat.”

 After staring for a few moments, Tommy looked at the TV. It was on and Netflix pulled up. It looked like it was about to play a movie.

 “ The Polar Express ”

 Wearily, Tommy walked over and took a seat beside Techno. As the movie began to play, he quietly sipped on the drink. As the warm liquid met his tongue, he melted into the blankets.

 While the movie played on and Tommy finished his drink, his eyes lidded. He was exhausted and- when did he start to shiver? Tommy did his best to ignore the cold that gently nipped at his skin, causing goosebumps to trail up his arms and legs.

 After a few minutes of silent shivering, a thick, warm comforter was placed on top of his legs, over his feet and rested against his chest. Startled, Tommy glanced over to see Techno wrapping a small knitted blanket around his shoulders, before taking Tommy’s empty cup from his hands and setting it aside. The comforter draped over both of them.

 “Relax,” He whispered softly, his voice rumbling.

 Tommy obeyed and let his spine go slack against the back of the couch.

 Thirty minutes later, Tommy fell asleep against Techno's shoulder.

 Fifteen minutes passed, and he woke again, kinda. He was awake, he could feel the warmth swaddling his body, he could smell the fight sent of chocolate from both him and the person next to him and he could hear what woke him up. A door opening and slamming. But he was hardly responsive. It felt like he was dreaming.

 “Wil-!” Phil’s worried voice came rushing in before he stopped and went silent. “Shit. . .”

 “You two really know how to make an entrance, don’t you?” Tommy could feel Techno's voice rumble under his ear.

 “Sorry I-”

 “What are you doing?” Wilbur snapped.

 Techno tensed before attempting to relax himself again. “Watching a movie.”

 “Yeah. With him curled up next to you like a spoiled cat,” He sneered.

 “Wilbur Soot! We just discussed this!” Phil scolded, rather loudly.

 “Like I give a shit,” Wilbur grumbled before he fled the room with thunderous steps.

 “Wil!”

 A door slam echoed from upstairs causing Tommy to flinch. A hand threaded slowly through his hair.

 The seat next to him sunk under someone's weight as they sighed in defeat.

 “How’d you get him to relax like that?” Phil asked quietly.

 “Coaco, blankets, and a movie,” Techno stated. “Also, he was incredibly tired when we got back. All that just led to this. I expect him to hate me later.”

 “Hm.”

 While Techno's hand continued to thread through his hair, Tommy was lulled back to sleep.

~~{o0o}~~

:D :) XD

Chapter Text

Guarded by Twilight

 “ You’re such a problem.”  “What a burden.”  “Freak”  .”Get over yourself.”  “Stop being so sensitive!”  “What’s wrong with you?!”  “Do better.”  “You’re such a waist!”  “You should just ḳ̴̌̕i̷͎͓̫̥̫̼͒̈́́͝l̴̡̮̱̾͑̇͐̾͝͝l̷̨̖͕̻̊̿̀ ̵̧͖̣͙͂̌̈̈́̃̕ẙ̶̤̰̬̈́͘͜ǫ̴̺u̵͙̒̄͌̈́͑̂r̷̦̭̉̈́̓̓͋͂̐s̷̻̓̏ę̷͓͙̤͙͆͑̚l̶̡̞͙͂͒̽͑͝f̵̧͍͕̣͚̝̄͂͑̇͘̚ͅ!”  “Pest.”  “Loser!”   “No one wants you.”  “D̷͓͐͐i̸̙̳̞͎̰̐͝ê̶͕͑̊͊̓̕.”

 . . .

 “Why do you hurt everything you touch?”

Tick,

      Tick,

            Tick,

                   Tick,

                         Tick,

                                Tick,

 When Tommy first felt his eyes flutter open, he wasn’t completely sure they actually did. Open, that is. The Watson living room was dark at night and his eyes were blurred with sleep and tears. Incredibly so.

 Tick, tick, tick, tick.

 Stretching his arms, emerging them from the depths of the warm blanket cocoon, Tommy rubbed tiredly at his eyes and cheeks. When his vision cleared a bit more, he pulled his hands away and stared blankly at the veg silhouettes of furniture in front of him. A dim light was glowing from the window. Probably the porch light.

 Tick, tick, tick, tick.

 How long was I asleep? Tommy asked himself absentmindedly. He glanced at the clock hanging large and proud above the TV and fireplace. It was a dark iron clock with gold accents and roman numerals. He couldn’t fully see what time it was, but by the placement he was guessing it was around eleven p.m.

 Prime! How long did he sleep?!

 Tick, tick, tick, tick.

 Tommy fell back on the couch and began to blankly stare at the white ceiling.

 Tick, tick, tick, tick.

 He let his eyelids droop as he fiddled with the edge of a blanket.

 Tick, tick, tick, tick, tick, tick.

 While he couldn’t find himself fully falling asleep.

 Tick, tick, tick, tick.

 He was still incredibly worn out.

 Tick, tick, tick, tick

 Even with the extra sleep.

 Tick, tick-

 Wait. . . Tommy suddenly shoved his hands into the pocket of his hoodie.

 It was empty.

 Suddenly shooting up from the blanket mound that he was stuffed in, he began rifling through the many blankets piled on and around the couch and rushing to check on the wooden surfaces around him.

 It wasn’t here!

 Where is his phone?!

 Where did he last have it?

 Tommy froze and thought back as his eyes continued to dart around the room.

 . . .

 The river! He set it with his shirt and shoes!

 . . .

 It’s probably still down there, isn’t it. Or at least at Niki’s tree house. Would Niki mind if he went to check? She has been incredibly nice, and he didn’t want to use that against her! But she wouldn’t mind him taking a peak. . . right?

 Shaking his head, Tommy made his way through the foyer to put on his shoes. He would just check the river and see from there.

 Shoving his shoes onto his bare feet, Tommy opened the door, shivering at the gust of wind meeting his cheeks, and marched out onto the steps. He closed the door behind him and began walking down the steps towards the woods.

 The world was quiet at night, no bird was awake or chirping, the wind was silent and gentle. He could still feel it grazing his skin though, he-

 “What are you doing?”

 “AHHHHHHHHH!!” A spike of fear stabbed straight through the blonde's heart, making its way through his chest as Tommy nearly jumped from his skin, spinning around to face- Techno? Tommy felt his face flush in hot embarrassment as he screamed, “WHAT THE FUCK DUDE?!?!”

 The man in question was on the other side of the planters giving Tommy a bored expression. They were on the lower end of the stairs so Techno was visible on Tommy’s side from around the chest up. He was wearing gardening gloves and there were a few gardening tools off to the side.

 “What the hell were you thinking!? You scared the shit out of me dude!!” Tommy continued to rant as his spiked breathing began to settle down.

 Techno simply kept staring at him before he just asked again, “What are you doing?”

 “Wha- I was-” Tommy clicked his mouth shut and looked to the side. He debated lying and just running back inside, but that just wouldn’t do. He needed his phone. He needed to be able to contact Sam. He needed his music. “I uh- I think I left my phone back at the river. . .”

 Glancing back at Techno, Tommy watched the man’s face as he seemed to relax and his brows rose. “You didn’t. Purpled picked it up. Phil brought it back. It’s on the kitchen island.”

 Tommy blinked before his face fell and he glanced back at the door. “Oh. . .”

 “Yeah, ‘ oh ’.” Techno mused with a small smile.

 The blonde blinked in surprise.

 “Come here,” Techno said lightly, it didn’t sound like a demand, like it probably should’ve. Either way, Tommy obeyed and finished walking down the steps, turning right and walking a little up the hill towards Techno.

 From the looks of it, the man was still in his pajamas. He wore light pink joggers with a light jacket over a white shirt that had a cartoon pig on the chest. His long hair was tucked into a tight, neat bun.

 “What are you doing up?” Tommy asked as he watched the man get back to work ripping weeds from the planter. He dug his gloved fingers in the dirt while his hand grasped a healthy green weed.

 “Couldn’t sleep,” he replied as he ripped the weed from the dirt with a single pull, exposing the poor thing as he revealed its roots. Tommy swallowed a large lump in his throat as he imagined the weed as his head being pulled from his neck. Shaking those thoughts away, he watched as Techno dropped the weed on the lard beside him.

 Tommy continued to watch as the man went to gently push some of the flowers aside, seeming to search for more pesky plants.

 “Again?” Tommy asked in a hushed whisper. Techno found another weed and ripped it out, dropping it beside himself again.

 “Mhm.”

 “Does this happen a lot?” Tommy asked wearily as he glanced down at the large pile of plants at Techno’s feet.

 Techno lightly rubbed his nose with his forearm. “Eh, Sometimes. Happens more when I’m stressed.”

 Tommy can relate.

 “Are you stressed?”

 The pink-haired man paused. “A bit.”

 . . .

 “Can I ask what about?” Tommy stared at his hands as he picked at his nails.

 “Uh. . . I guess. . .” He sniffed. “I uh. I’m worried about Wil. And Phil.” Techno seemed to think about something as he looked through the petals of this one red flower. “And you.”

 Tommy looked up. “Why me?”

 Techno shrugged. “I know what it’s like to be in foster care. You’re going through that right now. Not to mention, you just had a huge mental attack today. And you had one the first day we met. Can’t imagine how many you had at other places.”

 Tommy didn’t know how to respond. So he didn’t. He stayed silent as he blankly watched Techno take off his gloves. Why would Techno be worried about someone like him?

 Looking down at Tommy, the man continued, “I’m sorry you had to deal with Wilbur. He has a silver tongue. He knows exactly how to tear someone down.”

 Tommy laughed, no humor was behind it though. “He didn’t tear me down! He just got- a bit loud.”

 That was complete and utter bullshit and Tommy knew it. Techno seemed to know that too because he nearly cut Tommy off. “Tommy, I know this because he tore me down a few days after we first met.” He met Tommy’s eyes. He looked sad.

 “I was the first to be adopted by Phil. Two years later, Wil came along. And he did not like me or Phil.” His eyes hardened. “At all.”

 Tommy took a deep breath. “Why?” Tommy has his own reasons for disliking every family he comes across, he’s merely curious as to Wilbur’s reasons. Were they the same as his own? Or completely contradictory.

 “We weren’t his family,” Techno supplied simply. “He had just lost his family and was now shoved into ours. He made it clear he did not want to be here. One of those ways was by tearing me down.”

 Techno continued to poke and prod at his plants.

 “Around a week after staying with us he. . . he found out. . . he found. . .” Techno paused his work to squeeze his eyes shut. A shiver went down Tommy’s spine. What did Wilbur do to cause this wall of a man to shudder? To cause him to pause .

 “He snooped through Phil’s room and found my old records. . .”

 Ah, so Wilbur has a habit of doing that.

 “He read enough to know about. . . my situation. . . and my parents. . . He tore me down at the age of twelve.”

 “He was twelve!?” Tommy hissed.

 “We both were.”

 . . .

 “C-Can I ask what he said?” He asked wearily. Was he pushing? Was he asking too much? What is he talking about, of course he was!

 Techno looked down at him, his face was cold and blank again. “I won’t- can’t say much. But he triggered me. He called me a. . . a weapon. . . a tool.”

 Being honest with himself, Tommy doesn’t know what that relates to. What the hell is meant to be called a weapon or a tool. And Tommy will never admit he almost wishes he could’ve been called that. A tool. Then at least he would have been useful. Harder to throw away and he wants to know more. But from the way Techno’s fists are clenching and unclenching and how his breaths are becoming slow and shallow, the man is quickly reaching his limit and Tommy doesn’t want to cause another problem.

 Glancing at the flowers, the red ones bunched up in front of Techno, Tommy let a useless question tumble from his mouth. “What type of flower is that?”

 “Hm?” Techno glanced at the flowers Tommy was pointing at. His fist relaxed. “Those are red carnations. They often symbolize love and distinction.”

 Oh, well Tommy doesn’t know what the hell “distinction” means, or how Techno knows that but he decides to keep going. “What about those ones?” Tommy pointed to some yellow flowers.

 “Hibiscus Flowers.” Techno stated. “They represent romantic love, passion and friendship.”

 Tommy then glanced at the white flowers he noticed on the first day he arrived. He pointed at the white and yellow flowers, “Are those daisies?”

 Techno chuckled, “No, they’re chamomile flowers.”

 “Like the tea?”

 “Mhm. They’re due to be harvested as well.”

 “Huh. . .”

 For the next ten minutes Tommy heard more about flowers than he ever had in his entire life. Surprisingly, he didn’t hate it. Normally he got bored about these kinds of things, but Techno somehow made it interesting. And he especially didn’t mind when Techno went down a bunch of different tangents about types of flowers, their meanings, connections and flower siblings. Eventually, Tommy doesn’t know how, Techno started talking about the old tales of Greek gods. Which then led them to lie on the cool grass hill to stare into the galaxies above. You truly don’t know what you’re missing till the monster that is light pollution is gone.

 Tommy can’t remember the last time he saw so many stars. Maybe when he was small and young and still with his parents. And if Tommy wasn’t so exhausted, he would’ve remembered that he’s not supposed to talk about them. But here he is.

 “Mama used to take me stargazing,” the blonde said absentmindedly. With his hands propped behind his head, he continued to stare longingly at the glowing skies above.

 “Did she?” Techno indulged.

 “Mhm, she would tell me all about our gods. Like Prime, Lady Death, and even Ichor, the god of blood and chaos.” Tommy smiled fondly at the memory. “There are many stories about the stars. One of my favorites is how Prime, the god of life and creation, creates each and every star. And each and every star holds a soul. When a star dies it’s really just being born. As a human.”

 Tommy took it as the okay to continue when Techno stayed silent.

 “Mama would tell me how earth is really just a game, a constant, a cycle for the gods. Prime creates, Ichor plays and messes with the humans until they are too weak to play with anymore, then Lady Death collects the souls and brings them home to rest.” Tommy yawned. “Some say we become stars again and we’re reborn. But I don’t like that idea. I don’t wanna be a star.” The boy drawls as Techno snorts a laugh. “And also! If we just get reborn, Prime wouldn’t have any room to create anymore so I don’t think it makes sense.” He yawned again.

 “I think you have a solid point kid.” Techno says with a smile. Tommy lets his eyes close. He just couldn’t keep them open any longer. “Nope. Not yet, kid. Let's get you inside first. Then you can sleep.”

 Tommy mumbled a weak protest as a gentle hand came around his arm, lifting him up.

 “Come on. . .” Techno muttered as he led Tommy down the hill. That was when the blonde woke up more and shoved Techno away.

 “I got it. . .” He yawned and stretched as he began to lead them both inside. From there, he made his way upstairs, said goodnight to the other before shutting his door, flopping on his bed and promptly passing out again at 1 a.m.

~~{o0o}~~

 As quietly as he could make himself, Tommy took slow steps down the stairs. Waking the next morning was a rough one. Tossing and turning and having no music to calm his restlessness. So grabbing his phone was his first priority this early morning. Seven a.m. to be exact.

 When Tommy made it into the kitchen, he saw Phil hunched over the island with a cup of coffee in his hands. No heat waves above the normally warm drink. Phil must have been here for a while.

 “Morning Phil. . .” Tommy said softly.

 Phil glanced back with a smile. “Good morning Tommy.” Then he turned back to stare at his drink. Tommy took that as the okay to look for his phone. And he didn’t have to look far. It was right there, sitting face down on the far right corner of the island.

 Making his way towards it, he realized his headphones weren’t there. A shiver went down his spine as his stomach began to turn.

 “H-hey Phil?” Tommy called quietly.

 “Yes?” The man responded softly.

 The boy swallowed. “D-do you have my headphones?”

 . . .

 “No. . . Well. . . Yes. . . yes I do.” Tommy tensed as Phil met his gaze. Blue on blue. They looked sad and regretful. “While Wilbur was having. . . his moment.” Phil paused and dug into the pocket of his robe. “He stepped on your headphones. . . and they broke.” Opening his hand revealed a pair of old, crushed headphones. Wires poking out of it and everything.

 Tommy felt tears begin to burn his eyes.

 “I’m so sorry Tommy, I’ll buy you new ones but it’ll take a while for them to-”

 He couldn’t listen to what Phil had to say anymore. Grabbing his phone, Tommy proceeded to run from the kitchen, thunder up the stairs and hide in the guestroom, all while Phil uselessly called his name. Then, as the door slammed shut, the walls around his cold heart came down, and Tommy quietly sobbed.

 How much damage could one man possibly do in one day?

 A lot, apparently.

~~{o0o}~~

:D :) XD

Chapter Text

The Pleasure of Music

 It’s been two days since he’s truly left the guest room and Tommy has been nothing but miserable. The room he’s locked himself in has been deathly silent. That is, besides his quiet sobs. He tried to play his adored music without headphones, but it wasn’t the same. It didn’t fill his ears with chorus and song like it was supposed to. He couldn’t get his mind to float to who knows where. Tommy was truly trapped on this miserable planet.

 And when Tommy says locked really it’s just him sitting in the darkness of the room, curtains drawn as he presses his back to the door. Every once and a while, Tommy will feel it vibrate as someone gently taps on the firm wood. Techno and Phil have taken turns leaving food by his door. He hasn’t touched any of it. And right on time, another round of gentle knocks echoes from behind him, softly pushing against his hunched back.

 Tommy’s pulled from his blank thoughts as Techno’s gruff voice speaks, “Dinner's right here Tommy. You’re welcome downstairs if you want.”

 No, Tommy doesn’t want . He wants to stay here until this family finally gets sick of him. Once they realize he’s a lost cause, they’ll send him away and he can go back to Sam and the horrible routine of foster care. He won’t be a problem. At least. . . for a little while.

 The room goes quiet again and Techno is still by the door, as if he expects Tommy to answer. The man is wasting his time. Tommy isn’t talking anytime soon.

 After a beat, Tommy can hear a soft sigh before Techno walks away.

 Finally.

 Please come back. . . Please, don’t leave me. . . It’s too quiet. . .

 Burying his head into his arms and knees, Tommy lets himself fall back to the false safety of his head. It’s not the same without his lovely music. It’s too quiet. It’s so lonely. More tears pour from his cloudy eyes.

 An hour later, Tommy’s tears seemed to have dried up for the evening as he stayed curled up by the door. He will most likely sleep here again. And just as he starts letting his eyes close, footsteps start making their way towards the door. It’s most likely Phil coming to collect the cold food he didn’t eat.

 The world goes still again.

 There's a knock on the door.

 “Tommy. . .” Phil says softly.

 Tommy doesn’t respond.

 “Tommy, we can't keep this going. You’ve gotta eat at some point.”

 Tommy presses his knees to his chest.

 “I- I don’t even know if you’re awake. But I do know you’re in there Tommy. And I- I can’t let you starve yourself.” Guilt floods Tommy’s chest, Phil sounds so worried.

 He doesn’t actually care, you know? A voice hissed in the back of his head. Tommy ignores it. Or- tries to. Because he does know.

 A small sigh followed by a soft thump echoes from the door. “What can I do to help you Tommy? . . Anything you need, I’ll do my best to do,” Phil says softly, he sounds closer than he was a few seconds ago.

 But here's the thing, Tommy doesn't know what he wants. He’s just anxious, so anxious he’s shaking and it’s like he’s drowning in his own thoughts and he has no form of calming himself! He doesn’t have his headphones! That’s the problem isn’t it!? Wilbur had to be dick! Get angry! Call him a PROBLEM ! And then make him more of one by destroying the one form of self control he has left. So maybe that’s what Tommy wants. He wants his headphones back and for Wilbur to stay out of his way.

 Tommy feels his mouth open, “I-. . .”

 It’s not Phil's fault though, Phil didn’t do anything. . . and even if he claims he did, it’s Wilbur, a grown ass man, who is choosing to act like a child. But then again. . . is Tommy so innocent himself? He shows up to this family's house and has caused nothing but problems. If anything, Wilbur has every right to treat him like this. Tommy’s a problem. Tommy needs to be put into his place. Not Wilbur. Wilbur already had his place, Tommy’s just shoving his way into that. He doesn’t belong here.

 “. . . I’m sorry Phil. . .” The boy whispers.

 “No, no. Tommy, you did nothing wrong,” Phil reassures immediately. His voice is soft and steady.

 Surprisingly, more salt filled water poured from his eyes. Tommy didn’t know he could hold any more tears. “B-But I did! Didn’t I?!” Tommy stops himself with a sob, keeping himself from saying anymore.

 “No, no you didn’t Tommy. You did nothing wrong. You’re just fine. Can I come in?” Phil asks urgently.

 Tommy shakes his head, forgetting Phil can’t see him. “No!” Wiping his eyes, he sobs, trying to muffle the sound with his hands pressed over his mouth.

 “Tommy, I can’t just leave you like this!” Phil exclaims.

 “Yes you can! Everyone else did!”

 The world goes still again, the only sound being Tommy’s cries. Then, Phil seems to get the courage to speak again. He says firmly, “Well I’m not everyone else.”

 Such few words, and they say so much to Tommy. And he hates that it sounds so real, so true. Phil sounds like he’s telling the truth. He sounds like he cares. And that’s terrifying but Tommy’s already so scared, he’s already so tired.

 Shakily, Tommy stood, before he immediately tumbled due to how numb his legs were. Catching himself on the wardrobe then helping himself stand again, Tommy slowly made his way back to the bed. From there, he plopped face first onto the unmade bed.

 Stuffing his face into one of the pillows, Tommy waited silently to hear the door open. And after a beat, it did. Gently, Phil turned the knob and opened the door, peeking his head in.

 “Am I welcome to come in, Tommy?”

 Nodding into the pillow, Tommy heard muffled footsteps make their way towards him before the bed sagged under the new person's weight.

 “Can I touch you Tommy?” Phil asked in a hushed whisper.

 Tommy slowly nodded, bracing himself for whatever Phil had to dish out before a large, calloused hand started rubbing gently up and down his back. The boy simply melted.

 “Would you like me to apologize again?” Phil asked softly.

 He just shook his head.

 “Okay. I know apologies aren't always the most helpful.” Phil sighed. “Can I please get you to eat? We can warm up some dinner again or I can make you something else if you like.”

 Tommy felt himself start crying again as he shook his head.

 “Alright, alright. Okay. I know. We can wait,” Phil said as he continued to rub his spine. They stayed like that for quite awhile, Phil lightly rubbing Tommy back as his eyes started to dry themselves out.

 “Tommy. . .” Phil speaks after a beat. “If you don’t feel safe here. . .” He sounds choked up. “Y-You are more than welcome to leave.”

 Even though Phil’s gentle touches never left, Tommy tensed. Turning his head from the pillow, Tommy glanced up at the man. He was wearing a blank expression, but Tommy could see he was holding something back.

 “D-Do you want me to. . .?” Tommy asked hesitantly.

 Phil’s eyes screamed at him “NO! I don’t want you to go.” but his face stayed blank as he said, “I don’t want to sway your answer.”

 Biting his lip, Tommy let his gaze fall to the bedsheets. Did he want to leave? Well- yes and no. Yes, he did want to leave so that he didn’t have to hurt this family any more than he already has. No, he didn’t because Tommy was selfish. Phil has been nothing but kind even if Tommy is still waiting for that to end. Techno has been so patient with him. And while Wilbur has been rough to deal with, Tubbo, Ranboo and Purpled. . . have kind of made it worth it. So excuse Tommy for being selfish once again.

 Slowly, Tommy shook his head. “I wanna stay. . .” he said in a hushed whisper while bracing himself to be scoffed at or even yelled at. Phil just let out a breath of relief.

 “I’m glad to hear that,” The man said with a smile.

 With a small sigh, Tommy let himself relax. Phil wanted him here. At least. . . for a little while longer. Tommy could wait that out. Just a bit longer.

 After some more soft back rubs and some honey mumbled praises, someone gently rapped on the still open door.

 “Hullo,” Techno greeted quietly. In one hand, he held a blue porcelain bowl, in the other was a clear glass of water.

 “Hello mate,” Phil replied with a gentle whisper.

 “h I -” Tommy felt his cheeks burn in embarrassment as his voice let out an ugly crack. As Tommy died and withered in embarrassment, Phil let out a good hearted laugh as he gently patted the younger’s back. Even Techno gave a soft chuckle as he placed the bowl and water down on the bedside table.

 Shoving his face back into the pillow, Tommy groaned as Phil’s laugher started to die down. Then a weight settled by Tommy’s legs and a gentle hand rested on his calf.

 “You feeling better, kid?” Techno asked.

 Tommy nodded into the pillow.

 “I’m glad, do you think you could try and eat something for us? You don’t have to eat much, just a few bites would be enough.”

 Turning his head, Tommy glanced up at the pink haired man. No judgment seemed to touch his features. Taking a look at the bowl Techno brought earlier, Tommy noticed that it held a decent sized portion of some kind of soup. His stomach let out a loud growl, causing him to blush once again.

 “I’m taking that as a yes,” Techno spoke smugly.

 “Quiet you,” Tommy snipped as he sat up and reached for the bowl. Cradling the warm porcelain in his hands, he took the spoon and slowly started to eat.

 After a few quiet, almost awkward, moments, Phil and Techno started light conversation. Tommy wasn’t paying too much attention but he didn’t feel excluded, it didn’t feel like they were talking around him. They were talking with him, even if he hadn’t said a word. And when his meal was finished, they thanked him, told him he did well, Phil even offered Tommy a hug. And Tommy. . . desperately wanted that hug, but- he couldn’t let himself. So he gently shook his head.

 Phil didn’t seem too disappointed. Tommy’s not sure why he would be disappointed in the first place. He then told Tommy to get some sleep before Techno collected the empty bowl and both Phil and him were closing the door behind themselves.

 The sky was now beginning to turn dark, so Phil was probably right, he should get some sleep. But the idea of sleeping without his headphones again- wasn’t very nice. So he turned to the decent sized desk where a certain. . . item was kept.

 Crawling over the bed, Tommy let himself slip off the other end and start making his way towards the furniture.

 Pulling the chair out, Tommy sat down and scooted forward. There his gaze landed nervously on the shiny laptop collecting dust. He swallowed and slowly opened it with shaking limbs. On the keyboard was a sticky note.

 Username : Thomas Innit

 Password(s) : tHOMAS1_1121

 Pin : 3242

 Tommy’s going to change that username and password as soon as he can. He put the sticky note to the side.

 It took a moment to find the power button, but when he did and pressed it, the screen lit up a bright blue as it powered on. While it loaded, Tommy anxiously picked at his nails and kept glancing back at the door.

 When it finished loading, a blank profile picture showed up. His birth name was under it in all caps while an oddly pretty picture of a lake was behind it. He used the mouse pad to click the screen a few times and it got dark as it asked for a pin.

 Glancing back at the sticky note, Tommy types in the pin. Just as he put the last number in, it started logging him in. Then it welcomed him with a front screen.

 Tommy’s eyes sparkled at the possibilities in front of him. He has always envied the foster siblings with laptops or big PCs. It was always a joy watching them play video games or even doing something as boring as school work. Now Tommy has one, at least, before it got taken away. Tommy immediately logged into Steam and began playing a game called Undertale.

~~{o0o}~~

 Currently, at one a.m., Tommy was walking out of the bathroom when the sound of a familiar guitar floated down the halls. Tommy stopped dead in his tracks. Turned. And listened. Tommy listened as the guitar played. With a steady beat the strings got plucked. Quickly and steadily. Tommy slowly walked down the hall, passing Phil’s office.

 “I thought I couldn’t love anymore.”

 The lyrics were soft and gentle. They sounded hurt, they sounded hopeless. It took a moment to realize it was Wilbur singing. The man truly did have talent and was not ashamed to show it.

 “Turns out I can’t, but not for the same reasons as before.”

 His voice reminded Tommy of his mother’s. It was soft and gentle, filled with a distinct British accent. His mother adored singing. From belting out songs in the shower or humming in the middle of doing dishes, to singing Tommy a soft lullaby before bed.

 “I use everyone I ever meet, I can’t find the perfect match.”

 Slowly, the blonde crept down the hall with a small hand trailing across the wall, occasionally bumping on the door ways.

 “Abused those I love while ostracize the ones who love me. . .”

 With careful steps, the boy made it to the cracked open door of the music room. The yellow light clashing against the dark black of the house. Tommy crouched down like he did the second day he got here.

 “Back. . .”

 Tommy listened closely as the first short interlude started, almost identical to the introduction. Gentle but strong notes being plucked from the silver and gold strings of a guitar, lulling Tommy into a sense of peace. It was like the music was cradling him in its arms as it held him close. Keeping him safe.

 “On the path of least resistance, I find myself salting the Earth.”

 Letting his eyes glaze over, Tommy began to remember. He remembers dancing with his mother. Just dancing. Once, early in the month of December. It was morning, Tommy had woken up to the first snow of the year. It was beautiful, crisp and white and sparkling.

 Dashing in the kitchen and running into his mothers legs, he had smiled up at her, teeth and all, revealing the missing one right up front. With a startled laugh, the curly blonde woman began swaying them to the cheery Christmas music she had playing.

 “Every time that I miss you, I feel the way you hurt.”

 Stepping on her toes, the younger had giggled and let himself be swayed back and forth. Soon they were twirling and jumping and most of all laughing. The moment only got happier when his dad joined them. The man came in tired but the second he saw his son laughing and cheering with his wife, a blinding smile appeared on his own face.

 “And I don’t deserve you, you deserve the world.”

 After dancing and after breakfast, Tommy’s father insisted they go play out in the snow. And who was Tommy to disagree? Not even bothering with his shoes or coat, the young boy bolted from his seat and rushed out the front door. He giggled at his mother and father’s worried shouts as he ran straight into the icy snow.

 “Though it feels like we were built from the same. . .”

 He remembers his mother singing him songs after he took a nice warm bath.

 “Dirt.”

 Tommy didn’t even realize the music had stopped till the hallway was flooded with more yellow light.

 “Haven’t you caused enough problems for one night?” a growling voice sneered.

 Tommy whipped his head up to stare at the tall looming presence towering in front of him. Wilbur glared down at him. Scrambling to his feet, Tommy took a few steps back.

 “I-”

 “What were you even doing?!” Wilbur started as he followed Tommy, taking a threatening step forward. “Trying to find something? Something to accuse me of?”

 “What-!? No! I-”

 “Don’t you get it! You’re not gonna get away with anything! I hold the power here! I-”

 “CAN’T YOU SHUT UP!?!”

 The world goes still. Tommy tries to slow his breathing. The brunette blinks dumbly.

 “Can’t you give me a moment to breathe?! To explain myself!? You’re over here-” Tommy took a step forward as he pointed a finger into the brunette's chest. “-pointing fingers at me! Accusing me of shit I never did! And then threatening me! GIVE ME A MOMENT TO SPEAK!”

 Tommy finally looks up to give a nasty, angry glare towards the older. “You have made my stay here hell. Like I’m here only to cause you problems. To cause your family pain! You’re forgetting! I didn’t ask to be here! You’re forgetting I just need a place to sleep every night!”

 Wilbur stays quiet for another moment before he finally opens that big mouth of his. The man snipped, “Well that doesn’t mean you have to go snooping into my business.”

 Something snapped in Tommy, it had been festering inside of him for awhile, simmering every time he even thought of the brunette's name. Now it was all coming down. “Then tell me that! You asshole!!” Wilbur's eyes turned dark and enraged. Tommy continued anyway. “I can’t read minds, dickhead! Or close the door, why don’t you!? I see the room has sound proofing!!”

 Wilbur took a big, slow step forward. If he was angry before, he’s pissed now. “I suggest you watch your mouth before you get hurt.”

 Tommy tried and failed to suppress a flinch, but in the end, the blonde ignored it. This man has done nothing but insult and hurt him since the day he arrived. Now the man is openly threatening him? That’s it. He’s done. He is not stepping down. Tommy has felt so much worse. He can take a hit.

 Tommy takes his own step forward.

 “Bring it,” He snarls and he watches as Wilbur’s hands curl into fists at his side while his shoulders tense. And just as Tommy’s bracing himself for a fight. The brunette just shoulders past him and strides down the hall.

 Tommy watches him disappear behind the door of his room.

 Did he win?

~~{o0o}~~

:D :) XD

Chapter Text

A Friendly Visit

 A week has passed since that morning and while Tommy still didn’t have his headphones, he was doing fine. At least. . . today he is.

 After avoiding lunch, Tommy found himself enjoying a new book Techno lent him. It was a good one! All about magic and wizardry. There was a whole school they were attending to learn all about how to control their powers. He was enjoying the story. Though, he’ll admit, the first few chapters were a little unsettling with how the aunt, uncle and their son treated the main character. It doesn’t matter, the kid has a new home! At the school! And apparently this book was the first book of a whole series. Tommy was going to enjoy reading those. Books were always a good distraction.

 Tommy cringed as felt his stomach growl. He should probably go down and eat something. But the sheer idea of running into. . . him . . . kept him in the guest room. Tommy hadn’t eaten breakfast either. It’s been awhile since he’s gone hungry. That needs to change, even if Phil will get after him for it later.

 In the quiet of the room, with his nose still deep in the book, Tommy didn’t miss the quiet buzz from his phone, tickling as it vibrated against his thigh.

 Must be Sam, Tommy figured, pulling his phone from his pocket. As he held it up to his face, he learned he was correct. He had a single text from his social worker.

“How are you holding up Tommy?”

 Figuring he should respond, Tommy leaned back towards the edge of the guest bed to grab the bookmark Techno let him have. Shoving it between the pages of the book, he set it aside before responding.

“fine”

 Besides having no way to calm himself down, he has been fine. While Phil has just been Phil, Techno has been distant but kind. He’ll nod a silent hello every morning or when they pass in the halls. At night, if one of them hears the other up and about, they will join each other downstairs for either tea, a movie or even to go work on the gardens outside. That’s Tommy’s personal favorite. He’s never learned about so many flowers in his life. They even have a potato farm in a greenhouse out back.

 And while there have been. . . a few bumps. Like the other day Wilbur nearly tripped him down the stairs. Or that time he made a comment on how skinny Tommy was. Or that day he  called Tommy a Freak. . . hm. Seems Ozymandias has fallen off his throne. Either way! Tommy’s been fine, even without his comfort item. He’s fine. Tommy doesn’t know why he feels like crying.

“Alright. I asked Phil if I should come and check in. He said sure, but it was up to you.”

 Well. . . he didn’t need Sam to come check on him. But he missed the man, and he had to come over at some point. It was mandatory. Especially after house number eight. . . But he didn’t want to be a problem. What if Sam has stuff to do? What if he had plans with that one guy named Ponk? What if he was hoping for Tommy to say no? What if-

 Before Tommy could think more about it, he sent his message.

“I don’t care”

 Staring intently at his screen, Tommy waited for Sam’s reply.

 . . .

“I'll be there soon Toms :)”

 Tommy made a face before turning off his phone and throwing it aside. He stared at the carpeted floor with a frown.

 “Better go tell Phil, I guess,” Tommy muttered as he slid off the bed. With sock clad feet, he made his way towards the door. Resting his hand on the handle, Tommy caught himself staring at the poster Phil had gotten him last week. It was a poster of this weird looking monster eating rainbow music notes with a colorful wavy piano behind it.

 Tommy had made the mistake of looking at the damn thing and not five minutes later, Phil had put it in the cart to buy. Now it was on the door for Tommy to stare at when he got bored. Which wasn’t often apparently. Ever since he had finally gotten the courage to play on the laptop, the boy has been nothing but content. Along with that, Tommy learned he’s a huge fan of this game called Minecraft. He even played a few times with Techno and Phil after their insistence.

 Opening the door, Tommy made his way downstairs to see if Phil was in the kitchen.

 He wasn’t. Just Techno pulling out a skillet and a stick of butter. The man waved as Tommy began to duck out of the kitchen. Tommy waved back.

 Hm.

 Tommy turned to check the living room.

 He wasn’t there either.

 He must be in his office working then. Should he bother him? Tommy’s dad never liked when Tommy bothered his work. And Sam probably texted Phil already. Tommy would just be repeating the message and that's just annoying. He doesn’t want to be annoying. But then the thought of what if Sam didn’t text Phil. What if Phil doesn’t know Sam is coming? Then all the sudden his social worker is at his door. Phil would be so angry with him. He doesn’t want to be yelled at. He doesn’t want that to happen again.

 Turning, Tommy trudged up stairs again and made his way down the hall. Passing Wilbur’s bathroom and bedroom then the guest room, Tommy found his way back to the three doors. The laundry room, the half bath and the third door, which was Phil’s office.

 As he made his way closer to the firmly shut doot, Tommy felt his hands shake by his sides.

 Just knock. Just knock. Just knock. JustknockjustknockjustknockJUSTKNOCK!

 tap tap tap.

 "Come in!”

 Tommy turned the cold handle to open it with a small squeak . Peeking his head inside, he spotted Phil behind a big black desk working on a computer with papers all around. The surface was oddly shiny. Behind him was another desk built into the wall surrounded by tall black cabinets. There were small potted plants scattered around and two chairs in front of the middle desk. On the far wall, a large portrait of a laughing woman hung. She had gorgeous, long black hair and dark brown eyes that shined.

 Glancing up, Phil made eye contact with the younger. A blinding smile appeared on the man's face. “Ah! Hello Tommy! I just got a text from Sam!” Tommy felt his body start shaking. Oh Prime. “I’m looking forward to seeing him again.”

 Tommy’s body went rigged as he felt tears prick at his eyes. “Oh. . .” That’s the line he hears before he’s sent away again. . . That’s the last line he wants to hear before Sam gets here. “ Oh . . .”

 Phil gave him a confused expression.

 “I-I’ll go then. . .” he muttered as he started closing the door.

 “Wait- Tommy?” Phil was standing behind his desk now. Tommy opened the door again keeping his eyes glued to the floor. “Did I say something wrong? Or to upset you?”

 Shaking his head, Tommy shrank back as Phil stared him down.

 “Okay. . .” the man relented. “Why don’t you get something to eat before he gets here.”

 Damn bastard.

 “Yeah, okay. . .” Tommy muttered as he turned, finally closing the door on his way out. Taking a deep breath, Tommy wiped at his eyes before making his way towards the guest room.

 He had a bag to pack.

~~{o0o}~~

 A gentle knock came echoing from the door before Techno’s gruff voice spoke from the other side, “Tommy, Sam’s here.”

 Glancing up from his phone, Tommy frowned. Two hours went by way too fast for the boy’s liking. Standing up from the bed, Tommy kicked his now heavy bag to the side before making his way down stairs.

 Look! He knew it was going to happen eventually! Knew the man would get fed up with his antics. Wilbur must’ve told him something Phil didn’t know about or missed. Tommy just wished they had prepared him for it. Mentally that is. Started distancing themselves. Stopped being so nice to him. Stopped offering him things. Like food, and comfort.

 When he finally looked up after taking the last few steps down, Tommy was met with the sight of Sam and Phil happily chatting amongst each other. So Phil hadn’t said anything yet? Sam was going to be wasting his time then. Sorry Sam.

 At his entrance, Sam looked past Phil before his smile brightened significantly. Tommy doesn’t have the courage to speak for a foster parent. Sorry Sam.

 “Toms! So good to see you again.” His arms opened for a hug. Tommy didn’t hesitate before walking into them, burying his face into the man's chest as some of the anxiety melted from his body. He needed that hug. “How are you?”

 “Good.” Tommy squawked as his hair was ruffled.

 “I’m glad.” Tommy glared up at the man as his hand fled the crime scene. Sam chuckled as he turned back to Phil, Tommy stayed silently at Sam’s side. “Right, I just finished my talk with you Mr. Watson. May I have a private room to talk to Tommy please?”

 Phil nodded politely, “Of course. You can take over the family room over here.” Phil gestured to his left towards the elegant room. “Techno’s in the kitchen with headphones on and Wilbur is up stairs.”

 “Thank you, Mr. Watson-”

 Tommy jumped as Sam got cut off.

 “For the love of Prime, Sam! Call me Phil! Please!” Phil pleaded desperately with a pinched smile and a laugh.

 Sam roared with laughter. “Alright! Alright! Phil!”

 When both men composed themselves, Sam let a gentle hand rest on Tommy’s back as he led the younger towards the family room. Phil disappears upstairs with a friendly wave. “I’ll be in my office!” he calls. The man gets ignored for the most part.

 Deeming the place private enough, Sam started. “Alright Toms. We know the drill. Tell it to me straight. Have they been treating you alright? Phil? The brothers?”

 Tommy swallowed, “Y-yeah. . . They have been fine. . . Surprisingly.”

 Sam gave him a soft, concerned expression. “Want to elaborate?”

 The boy nodded. “Phil- The fourth day I was here. . . The guy fucking- bought me a whole ass wardobe!”

 Chuckling, Sam responded, “I can see that.” as he gestured to Tommy’s brand new blue jeans and red checkered shirt. “Your skin is looking clearer too! Did he buy you face wash?”

 “Yeah, he did,” Tommy started. “Well it was in the welcome basket. Did I tell you he bought me a whole ass laptop?!”

 Sam blinked. “What?”

 “Yeah! Had a full anxiety attack when I found it!” Tommy leaned back into the couch. “Phil said it was mine though.” Even if he had said that, Tommy didn’t pack it in his bag.

 “Well shit!” Sam cussed with a laugh. “I knew Phil was rich but-”

 “That’s what I’ve been thinking! I dunno why he’s wasting his money on me!”

 The man across from him stiffened. “That’s not what I meant Tommy,” he said slowly. “It’s not normal. Doesn’t mean you don’t deserve nice things.”

 Tommy had to disagree. He just shrugged.

 “Hm. How about the brothers? Techno and Wilbur. How have they been?”

 At the mention of Techno, Tommy’s back straightened as he leaned forward. “Oh Techno’s been cool as fuck! He tells me a whole bunch of stories about the Greek myths! He gave me a bunch of books to read! And he makes me hot chocolate and tea whenever I can’t sleep! He’s great! Oh! And he got me into playing this game called Minecraft! Have you heard about it Sam? It’s so cool!”

 “Yeah I have. Do you enjoy it?” Something sparkled in Sam’s green eyes. Tommy couldn’t put his finger on it. But then again- he was really distracted by explaining how cool this game was.

 “Do I enjoy it?! What a silly question Sam! It’s so much fun!” Tommy proceeded to talk about his favorite game for the next five minutes. Doesn’t sound like a long time, but Tommy was hardly breathing by the end of his explanation.

 With a light smile, Sam spoke again, “Alright, I see you’re enjoying Techno’s company. How about Wilbur? What have you been doing with him?”

 Tommy’s big smile immediately fell as he glanced to the side. “He’s fine.”

 Faltering for a moment, Sam asked, “What do you mean?”

 “I mean he’s fine.” Tommy still refused to make eye contact.

 . . .

 “Alright.” Tommy let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. “Well, I have to do a quick evaluation of the house again and then I’ll leave you to it! Would you like to show me your room?”

 Tommy felt his face light up as he shot up from the couch. “Yes! Come on! It’s over here!” He’s completely forgotten about Phil’s eviction at this point.

 Laughing, Sam stood as well as he gestured for Tommy to lead the way. And lead he did. Taking Sam's large hand, he dragged the older upstairs, down the right hallway and through the third door down.

 “Here it is!” Tommy chirped as he scampered in. The door revealed the cream colored walls of a large bedroom with posters absolutely everywhere, from bands Tommy enjoyed to weird wacky ones that the boy found pleasing to the eye. On the side tabled beside the bed were tiny little plushies from cats to dogs to even a whale. Other nic-nacks were scattered around, like on the desk and wardrobes with fidget toys and a water bottle.

 Tommy watched in horror as Sam's eyes started to tear up.

 “S-Sam? What’s wrong?” He asked, stalking towards the older.

 Wiping his eyes, Sam smiled and reassured, “Nothing, Tommy. I’m fine. Just happy.”

 “Happy. . .” Tommy repeated disbelievingly.

 “Mhm! Lemme just look around a bit okay?”

 “Okay. . .”

 For the next short minutes, Sam poked around. Glancing in drawers, under furniture, never overstepping a boundary like digging through Tommy’s clothes and drawers, or reading through Tommy’s notebooks. When Sam finished, he turned to smile at the boy.

 “Everything looks fine. Let's get back to Phil.”

 “Oh! Phil's office is this way!.”

 “Let’s go there then. Lead the way?”

 Tommy beamed and saluted, “Yes sir!” before marching out the door and further down the hall.

 At the end of the corridor, Tommy stopped them at the office door and stepped aside. With a wave of his hand, Tommy invited Sam to knock. The man gave him a confused expression before shrugging and lightly knocking on the door.

 The door opened revealing Phil and his bright smile. “All done?”

 “Yup, I just need to look around the house again but everything seems fine so far,” Sam responded as he put a gentle hand on Tommy’s back. The boy shuffled himself closer to the man. Then it came back to him. This was where Phil would tell Sam. Surely he wouldn’t want the social worker to go snooping through his place again. Turns out Phil doesn’t mind one bit.

 “Feel free to,” Phil nodded before tilting his head to the side to make eye contact with Tommy. “Would you like to come get something to eat with me? Techno made grilled cheese.”

 He glared. This is exactly the type of shit Tommy is talking about. The caring bullshit! There was no way that was a coincidence. Damn Bastards. Then again. . . Tommy’s stomach lurched. He really was hungry.

 Tommy glanced up hesitantly at Sam. After getting an encouraging smile, Tommy slowly nodded and stepped away from Sam.

 “Wonderful. Would you like some tea after?”

 Tommy brightened and nodded again.

 “Come on.” Phil began leading them back down stairs and into the kitchen.

 Just before they walked in, the warm smell of melted cheese met Tommy’s nose, making his mouth water.

 Phil laughed, “Smells good right?”

 “Mhm.”

 “I’m flattered,” Techno responded dryly by the stove. He flipped a grilled sandwich on a buttered pan. “Here.” The pink haired man turned and slid a plate across the table. A grilled cheese sandwich with fries on the side was passed over.

 Tommy looked up at the man with hesitancy in his blue eyes. “For me. . .?” he asked quietly.

 “Yes,” Techno responded swiftly before turning back towards the stone. Tommy took a seat in front of the plate and began to slowly eat. It was so good. The cheese was absolutely perfect as it dripped out the sides of the crunchy bread. His stomach turned with guilt. He felt nauseous. He didn’t deserve this. There was a reason they were sending him away.

 Soon Phil sat down on the chair to his right with his own plate. A few moments later, Techno was standing to his left, meal in hand, before he asked, “May I sit here?” Tommy froze as he turned to see Techno gesturing to the chair beside him.

 He blanched, “O-of course. It’s your house. Sit where you want. . .'' In reality, Tommy didn’t know why Techno bothered to ask in the first place. Why would Tommy have a say in where this man sat in his own house? But as Techno sat down, Tommy realized he was between the two. He almost felt trapped, but the blonde. . . didn’t really mind. It was weird. Normally he’d panic over these kinds of things. But the men at his sides, nearly elbow to elbow, have never raised a hand to him. His mind didn’t filter them as a threat anymore. And wasn’t that just terrifying.

 They ate in relative silence, it wasn’t awkward though. They were content to just eat. To just be. And around the time they were putting plates in the sink, Sam walked in.

 “Everything looks good! Mind if I talk to you in private Phil?”

 “Oh! Of course.” Phil turned to Tommy, “Can you load the dishwasher please? Techno will help you out.”

 Tommy nodded before turning towards the sink.

 When Phil left with Sam, Techno leaned down to whisper to Tommy, “I got this, why don’t you go grab a book, we can read together.”

 Excitement buzzed through Tommy as he nodded and turned to run upstairs. As he passed the living room, he overheard Phil and Sam’s conversation. He skidded to a stop and hid behind the wall. Now Phil was going to tell Sam.

 “I’m trusting you with him,” Sam hissed. It didn’t sound threatening, just urgent.

 “I know you are,” Phil responded softly. “You trusted me with Wil, didn’t you?”

 Sam was Wilbur’s social worker?

 “Yes. And I’m trusting you again. They have a surprisingly similar history.”

 Similar history? That made Tommy’s stomach twist. That would imply that Wilbur and him are alike. The most backwards thing he’s ever heard in his life. And Tommy has heard a lot.

 “I’m aware. Though I think Tommy’s a bit more beaten down than Wilbur was.”

 “He was in the system longer.”

“I know.”

 . . .

 “I assume Wilbur is giving Tommy a hard time.”

You wouldn’t know the half of it, Sam.

 “He is. I’m not sure how to handle that.”

 Handle what Phil? You’re sending me away!

 “Give him time, that’s what I suggest. But keep an eye on them, especially if they're together. We both know what Wilbur is capable of.”

 After hearing that, Tommy decided he’s heard enough. To continue his journey towards the guest room, he scurried up the stairs and down the hall.

 Plunging into the guest room and driving on the bed, he reached to grab the book he had been reading from the far bedside table.

 As he left, Tommy ran into a certain brunette . Freezing, Tommy curled in on himself as he watched Wilbur emerge from his room. When he caught sight of the younger, he scowled.

 “Sam’s here, isn’t he?”

 Tommy nodded silently.

 “Finally here to pick you up?” Wilbur sneered with an upward tilt of his head.

 Tommy shrugged. Yes. His mind hissed, and it was right. He’s wondering why he hadn’t grabbed his bag while he was there. Why had he grabbed Techno’s book? He was leaving. Whatever, just an excuse to stay longer.

 Wait, what?

 No. No no no no.

 He- no. Tommy did not want to stay longer. He was not atta–. Tommy couldn’t even think the word. He did not want to stay.

 “Let’s go find out then, shall we?” Wilbur said with a pinched smile. He gestured down the hall and towards the stairs with a long arm, his gray sweater dangling from it limply. “After you.”

 Tommy didn’t like the idea of Wilbur being behind him. So he matched the others' sneer. “You’re the one in power here.” He mocked a bow and gestured dramatically. “After you .”

 Wilbur’s smile fell and he glared. “Of course,” he grumbled as he started walking down the hall.

 With his back turned, Tommy fist-pumped the air in victory. As Wilbur whipped around to face the younger, Tommy let his arms fall as he tried to act normal.

 Smothering his smirk, Tommy responded with a snappy “ What? ” before Wilbur grumbled and turned away again. With the others back turned, he fist-pumped the air one more time towards his chest before racing after Wilbur.

 Standing in the foyer was Sam, Phil and Techno seeming to be waiting for them.

 “Wilbur- where's Tommy?” Phil asked.

 In response, Wilbur stepped to the side and Tommy peaked from behind.

 “Oh! Hello! Sam was just leaving!”

 Tommy stopped at the end of the stairs. “S-Should I go grab by bag. . .?”

 Everyone, including Wilbur, tensed.

 “What?” Phil asked. “No?”

 The boy’s eyes widened. “Y-You aren’t. . .” he swallowed, “You're not sending me back?”

 Phil’s eyes saddened as Techno seemed to deflate beside him.

 “No, Tommy,” Phil responded slowly. The man paused for a moment, “Was that- was that what you thought I was saying earlier?”

 After a beat, Tommy nodded.

 “You should have told me. No, I don't plan on sending you back anytime soon. Not unless you want to.”

 Wilbur, now relaxed and limp, quietly scoffed beside him. Tommy’s mind paused. For some reason it didn’t hold as much. . . sass or resentment as it used to. Now it sounds just- defeated. Like he lost a long game of tug of war. Tommy didn’t pay any mind to him as he picked nervously at his nails.

 “Oh, okay.”

 Phil smiled, “Common boy’s. Let’s leave these two alone,” he gestured for Techno and Wilbur to follow him. When they disappear into the living room, Sam looks over at Tommy with a worried frown. He made his way towards the younger.

 “Do you want to stay here?”

 Tommy paused as he avoided eye contact.

 “I guess. . . They're not bad. . .”

 “I know. But that’s the case for a lot of homes. If you don’t want to be here, you don’t have to. At least- not for much longer. I’d have to find another fam-”

 “Sam.” Tommy stopped him. “I’m fine.”

 Smiling, Sam nodded and opened his arms, inviting Tommy to a hug. Tommy took it and walked down the rest of the stairs to give the man another large hug.

 “Text me if you need anything alright?”

 Tommy nodded into his chest.

 “Right, I’ll be on my way. Goodbye Tommy.” The boy didn’t understand why it felt so final. Like he would never see the man again. Did Sam know something he didn’t?

 “See ya.”

 Turning, the man made his way towards the door slipping on his shoes. But before he could reach for the handle it was flung open. Sam stopped it from hitting him square in the face with his arms.

 Tommy blinked as Tubbo walked in confused, before glancing curiously behind the door. “Oh! Hello! I didn’t know this house was already broken into?”

 Ranboo and Purpled appeared behind the brunette before Purpled proceeded to whack him upside the head. Ranboo laughed as he leaned against his right crutch.

 Sam chuckled as he walked around the door. “Ah yes, but I was just leaving. The house is yours.”

 Tubbo’s smile stretched wider as he burned as bright as the sun.

 “Prime, don’t encourage him.” Purpled grumbled as he made his way towards Tommy. “Who’s this weirdo?” Purpled asked him.

 “Sam,” Tommy replied smugly. When he looked up again, Sam was waving goodbye to both Tubbo and Ranboo.

 As he left, Tubbo closed the door behind him. Then the brunette whipped around making intense eye contact with Tommy. The blonde blinked a few times. Tubbo smiled. “Wanna sleep over at my place?”

 “Uhhh. What?”

 “Do you want to spend the night at my place?” Tubbo asked again. “Have you ever had a sleepover?” Not waiting for a reply, Tubbo went on as Tommy sputtered. “Okay so! Basically you’ll pack an overnight bag, come to my place and then we do a bunch of fun things like watch movies and-”

 Waving his hands, Tommy cut Tubbo off. “Tubbo! Tubbo! I know what a sleepover is!” he explained with a laugh. Whether he’s been to one or not is another question.

 “Then do you want to come over?! We’d play a whole bunch of video games and stuff!”

 “I uhh,” Tommy glanced passed the brunette into the living room where Phil was with the brothers. “I-I’d have to ask Phil.”

 “Well obviously,” Purpled cut in. “We just need to know if you want to.”

 “Oh. . . Y-yeah, sure. I’d like to.”

 “Then go ask,” Ranboo said softly. “We’ll be waiting here.”

 Tommy just nodded stiffly before walking past them towards the living room. Peaking in, he was met with Phil reading on the couch with Techno doing the same next to him. Wilbur was on the green armchair watching some drama show. Well- not really watching. More listening as he’s hunched over himself while he stares at the ground.

 Then it came to him, Tommy was supposed to be reading with them right now. He hoped Techno wouldn’t be too disappointed. He set the book he’d been holding on a bookshelf to his left, he would get that later.

 “H-Hey Phil. . .?”

 The man immediately looked up. “Ah! Tommy! Did Sam leave?”

 The boy nodded, “Yeah, he did. . . Uhm. . .” Tommy swallowed. “Tubbo, Purpled and Ranboo showed up. . .”

 “Oh! Did they need something?”

 Tommy nodded with his lips pursed shut. When he opened them, he stuttered, “They uh. . .wanted to know if I could. . . Mmm.” Tommy paused to pick at his nails. He pulled at a hangnail, it slowly started to bleed as crimson blood oozed from the tiny cut. He wiped at it with his thumb, smearing it across his nail.

 “Go on,” Phil encouraged gently as he sat up straighter in his chair. His book was now closed beside him.

 “They wanted to know if I could- if I could. . .”

 “For the love of PRIME! SORLEY!! JUST SPIT IT OUT!” Wilbur snapped as he whipped around to face Tommy. The boy froze as he watched Wilbur's eyes cloud with tears. For a moment, the brunette just stared. Then it must've dawned on him that Tommy, wasn’t whoever this Sorley person was, before he let out a heartbreaking sob as waterfalls of tears came pouring from his eyes.

 With a flash of panic in his eyes, Techno immediately shot up from his chair as he rushed to his crying brother. “C’mon. Let’s go. C’mon,” he urged gently as he helped him stand. Wilbur only started crying harder, his legs giving under his weight.

 Phil was standing now, he didn’t move towards them, but he stared with worried eyes as the crumpling man was led from the room. Tubbo and Purpled are heard asking questions before they’re shushed. Wilbur’s sobs disappear after the distant click of a door closing.

 With wide, scared eyes Tommy looked over at Phil for guidance. The man just stared at the place Wilbur was previously. His eyes tired and empty, like he was lost in thought as though he were grieving. Tommy just stared in shock.

 What have I done? Tommy questioned himself.

 Phil finally seemed to break his own trance as he looked at the younger. “Tommy, you did nothing wrong.” Oh, he must’ve asked that out loud. “Wilbur will be fine. I promise.” Tommy doesn’t believe him. “N-now. What did Tubbo and gang want?”

~~{o0o}~~

:D :) XD

Chapter Text

Gut Reaction

 “Ready Tommy?” Tubbo asked Tommy as the blonde finished walking down the stairs.

 “Mhm,” he responded while tugging at the straps of his new bag. Phil insisted he get a new one after seeing the large hole in the top of his old one. Tommy said it was fine, that it was actually pretty convenient; Phil strongly disagreed and led him towards backpacks to have him look around. Tommy of course had picked the only red one there. It was nice. Had the head of a small dragon embroidered on the front of it. Reminded Tommy of that first night he spent with Techno. Now those nights are frequent and some of the best memories he’s ever made.

 Glancing back up the stairs, Tommy wondered if he should go back up and say something to Wilbur. He’s been stuck up in Techno’s room since he left. After confirming Tommy could leave for the night, Phil followed after Wilbur and Techno. He hasn’t seen them since. But then again, Tommy’s not sure what he’d even say. An apology would be nice, but Tommy’s not sure what he would be apologizing for in the first place. The man never spoke to him unless insulting him.

 Who is Sorley? Tommy’s been wracking his mind on it. Who was Wilbur talking about? Why would Wilbur mistake him for whoever this Sorley person is? And why would Wilbur have such a breakdown over him?

 “Come on Tommy. Wilbur will be fine,” Ranboo reassured gently, pulling Tommy from his thoughts.

 “Has this happened before?” Tommy asked as he shuffled towards the door.

 Purpled stepped forward, pulling the door open. “Yeah, but it was a long time ago. Techno and Phil got him.”

 Sighing, Tommy made his way onto the porch. “If you say so.”

 “I do say so,” Purpled says smugly. “Now! Let’s go to Tubbo’s house to drop off your stuff then we’re going into town!”

 “Into town? Like where Niki works?”

 “Yup! Best food in the world if you ask me,” Ranboo responds proudly.

 Tommy has to disagree. The best food he’s ever had was at the little red restaurant that old foster father took him to. House number six. It was just them. Just Tommy and Mr. Dean. Jolly man. Full of nothing but love and passion despite having hardly anything to his name. There were no siblings to poke and prod at him. It was just them. Just Tommy and Mr. Dean. And Tommy liked it that way. Seemed like Mr. Dean did as well.

 They had ordered two different burgers and a large basket of fries to share. Together they bickered and laughed as they threw small bits of food at each other. Between attacks, they would sip on their drinks. Coke and a cool beer. Mr. Dean didn’t drink often. And it didn't bother Tommy when he did. Oh how that would quickly change.

 Mr. Dean was devastated to see Tommy go. At least- that's how it played out in Tommy’s head. It’s been four years. Nowadays his brain likes to play tricks on him.

 Instead of turning towards the forest like Tommy thought they would, the group followed the porch onto the driveway, into the road, and down the hill to the right. There were no crosswalks, but Tubbo, Purpled and Ranboo didn’t seem to mind that fact they were walking  half way in the road.

 “Where is your house anyway?” Tommy asked Tubbo from beside him.

 “Just up ahead! We’re neighbors.”

 Tommy blinked. “Annnd, you didn’t think to tell me this?” he asked with a laugh.

 Tubbo shrugged but a mischievous smile graced his lips. “Just didn’t come up in conversation Big Man.”

 “Uh-huh,” Tommy responded doubtfully

 “Mhm!” Tubbo hummed brightly.

 “Mmmm,” Tommy hummed back in slight disbelief.

 “mmMMmm,” Tubbo mocked.

 Tommy’s head fell back with a cackle.

 “Prime, you just feed into each other,” Ranboo cut in with a laugh. Tommy was surprised to see he wasn’t using his wheel chair, just his crutches. Come to think of it, with a quick look around, no one was pushing a wheelchair at all. It wasn’t here. Hm. Guess he didn’t need it.

 “It’s just our dynamic Ran boo ! Get with the times,” Tubbo responded as Ranboo sputtered with a laugh.

 Hm. . . The last part of Ranboo’s name sounds wonderfully like something that also starts with a B and two O’s.

 Tommy smirked, “Yeah Ran boob ! Get with the times dude!”

 While Purpled and Tubbo roared with laughter, Ranboo continued to sputter. He gave Tommy an offended look, but the smile he wore told Tommy he found it all in good fun. Ah, the poor fool, now the name’s gonna stick.

 When the rest of them finished laughing, they started passing an old pile of junk. There was a tattered brown teddy bear, some old rotting books and a few other forgotten things like a side table and candle holder. But in the middle of it all, what caught Tommy’s attention, was an old sky blue piano with distinctly three white keys missing. C, D and another D. All in different octaves. Tommy stopped. Behind the mess was a large Japanese maple.

 “What’s all this?” Tommy asked.

 They all stopped to look at the mess in front of them. Tubbo shrugged. “Dunno. It’s always kinda been here. Someone must’ve dropped it off one day and left.”

 The piano looked like the one back home minus the mud, dirt and moss, and the odd color choice. But in the end it was a piano. And Tommy had no doubt in mind that if his Mama saw it, she would play it. No matter how old or out of tune the poor thing was. No matter the amount of missing keys. She would play it.

 It’s how she treated any man who came her way, Tommy thought bitterly as he scowled. Dad was just lucky and got played the most. He was just like the family piano in the middle of their small living room. Played the most, but not the only one.

 “Why didn’t you guys get rid of it?” Tommy asked as he walked towards the pile of things. “Seems pretty litterish.”

 Tubbo spoke again. “I’m not sure. I think we tried but- It didn’t feel right.”

 “Didn’t feel right? What was that supposed to mean?” Tommy asked as such thoughts came to mind.

 Purpled shrugged, “It just didn’t. Felt like we were doing something wrong. Phil said to trust our gut, so we left it. Hasn’t been touched since.”

 For some reason Tommy didn’t get the anxious feeling they were talking about as he let his fingers slide airily across the keys. He wanted to play. Desperately, he wanted to play his mothers song. But after pressing a single key. He pulled away. It had nothing to do with the sour note it played.

 Shaking his head, Tommy had to drag himself away from the instrument as Tubbo continued to lead them down the road before they arrived at a- surprisingly small house. It wasn’t tiny! No. It was a two story, built for a family. But it was still nothing compared to Phil’s mansion .

 “This is my place! Come on! Dad bought us snacks before we go!” Tubbo exclaimed as he started rushing up the driveway. In the middle of said driveway parked an old, beat up, 2001 Honda Civic. Tommy followed as Tubbo made his way onto the small porch lined in dead bushes.

 Welp, so much for Tommy teaching himself to go hungry again. He could just deny the snacks. Yeah, he’ll do that.

 With Purpled and Ranboo close behind, they started filing inside.

 The place was lived in, that’s for sure. It wasn’t dirty persay, but it wasn't clean either, needed a good sweep that's all. Nothing that bothered Tommy.

 Toeing off his shoes, Tommy took a glance around. There were several boxes lining the walls with books and random things stacked on top along with many pictures lining the walls. To the right of the small foyer was a whole collage of them. The one on the far left was a picture of a seemingly younger Tubbo holding up an obviously fake graduation certificate with the bold words of Graduated 5th Grade ! On his head was a paper graduation hat and everything. To the right of it was a picture of a more current Tubbo standing sheepishly in front of the car from out front. The poor thing was stuck in a ditch on the side of a freeway. The photo was a bit blurred, as if the person taking the picture was laughing.

 Out of all the photos, there was only one from when Tubbo was a baby. That was a younger Schlatt holding a little tiny brunette baby in a hospital. Tommy let his bag lean against the wall as it fell.

 “We’re baaack!!” Tubbo sang as he ran and slid down the hall to the right of the stairs. Tommy followed, making his way down the small hall, passing the entrance to the living room and walking into the kitchen after Tubbo.

 When he walked in, Tubbo was shuffling besides a- less put together Schlatt than what Tommy saw a week ago. Instead of a neat, ironed down suit, he was wearing an old gray t-shirt tucked into some dark blue jeans. On his feet were no shoes but some old gray and white socks with large holes around the big toe on both feet. A pair of rectangle glasses rests high on his nose. The right lens is cracked.

 “Could Tommy make it?” Schlatt asked before glancing up. “Oh, hey kid. Phil finally let you go?”

 Tommy suppressed a flinch at the man’s careless words and nodded. “P-Pleasure seeing you again- sir,” he tacked on.

 “Ah, drop the formalities. I might puke.”

 Tubbo snickered at his side as he grabbed a sugar cookie from off the counter. Tommy looked over to see a whole buffet of pastures lining the farthest counter and stretching across the semi-clean stove.

 “Woah. . . Where did you get all that?” Tommy asked, mesmerized.

 “Niki made them. Tubbo’s been wanting another sleepover for a while, so I had them preordered. Just waiting for me to pick ‘em up.”

 Prime, Niki had talent! They all looked so delicious! Each and every single one of those pastures, from the cookies, to funnel cakes to about a couple dozen cupcakes, were all made so delicately. Made with a type of perfection no one could name or master except for this one amazing woman. They were so pretty. Tommy almost didn’t want to eat them but it also felt like a sin not to.

 Before he knew it, he was sitting down at an old, well loved table stuffing his gullet with a sparkly pink cupcake. The other boys doing much the same around him.

 “I was thinking we should go to the record store first,” Purpled commented as he wiped a bit of blue frost from his chin with his thumb.

 Tubbo swallowed a bit of cookie before he responded, “Naw, that’s not a good place to start a tour. It’s too- uhhh, big. To start off with.” No, that cookie was not the one he was eating earlier. “We should start at the gift shop! It’s meant to start these expeditions.” It was his fifth.

 Purpled gave Tubbo a dumbfounded expression before he tried, and failed, to shake it away. “I have no idea what you just said. But sure. We can start at the gift shop.”

 “ Yes! ”

 “Uhhh. . .! Hey Tubbo!?” Schlatt called from the other room.

 “Yeah?!” Tubbo called back. Rather loudly, Tommy flinched as his shoulders met his ears.

 “Can you come here for a second?!” A loud crash came echoing from the other room. Purpled cackled as Schlatt let out a loud shriek.

 “Yeah! Coming,” Tubbo responded with a laugh as he dashed out of the room.

 “I’ve gotta see this,” Purpled snickered as he stood and followed after the brunettes. Ranboo followed close behind. Tommy stood to trail behind before a soft clicking sound caught his attention.

 Click, click, click.

 Turning Tommy looked at the stove. Or- the oven more specifically. It was on. Fire hazard much?

 Walking over, Tommy took a glance inside to see it was empty. Meaning the stove was left on by mistake. Reaching over the stove, Tommy went to turn it off. Then a rather. . . troubling. . . thought came to mind.

 W̷̭̑h̶̫̆a̵̰͒t̷̠̾ ̴̻̏i̴̦̇f̷̙͐ ̵̫͝y̶̧̍o̴͕̓u̸̥̔ ̷̭̈s̸͖̿t̵͕̏ụ̴̏c̶̥͝k̶̘͂ ̷͔̊y̶͖̎o̶̱u̸͝ͅr̶ͅ ̷̗̒h̷̜̉à̸̖n̷͔̎d̶̪̃ ̶̥͂ị̴n̵̲̄?̴̝̓

 Tommy froze as his fingers touched the dial. The voice didn’t sound like him. But it did at the same time.

 W̵̦̕h̵̜̉å̵̗t̴̩̊ ̵̲͠ḯ̵̺f̸̯͋ ̵̤̒y̴̘͛ó̷͇u̴͈͆ ̵̡̇l̸̬̑ẽ̶̹ṭ̴͑ ̸̼͌y̶͉͘o̷̡̊ư̶̤r̶̬ ̷̺̔h̶̖͆ā̸͖n̷̡̒d̵̠̀ ̷̺̽f̷̢̏a̷͇̋l̷̛̩ļ̸͛ ̷ͅǫ̵̇n̵͖̔ ̸͈́t̶͈͗ȟ̸͔e̶͎͐ ̶͕̏s̷͖̚c̷̻͐a̴̠͂l̵͔̽d̷̦͛i̴̦̔n̷̜͂g̷͚͐ ̴̝̓h̵̙͆ǫ̵̾t̵̹̐ ̵͍͠ģ̵̿ŕ̸̠a̷̬͐t̶̟̅e̸̺͌s̸͖̃.̶̯́

 Pulling his hand away, Tommy could almost feel the old metal hot and burning against his skin.

 It began to whisper. W̶h̴y̷ ̴d̶o̶n̵’̷t̷ ̶y̷o̶u̷ ̵t̷r̸y̴ ̷i̷t̷?̶

 Tommy flung himself away from the stove as the sudden urge to LISTEN flooded his head. He could already feel the way his skin would bubble and pop and it would hurt and he would love it ! Turning, Tommy rushed from the kitchen towards the sounds of laughs and sneers.

 Tommy slowed to a walk as he went down the hall. Whipping his eyes of tears that had begun to form, he found everyone in the living room. Schlatt was attempting to change a light bulb and- relatively struggling while Tubbo “helped”. He just stood to the side watching his father struggle, occasionally kicking the side of the stool he was balancing on. Ranboo and Purpled were laughing and sneering off to the side.

 “Hey Schlatt, your oven's on,” the boy commented as he entered.

 “O-Oh! T-Thanks kid, I’ll turn it off in a MO ment-!” He sputtered as the stool wobbled dangerously.

 Noticing Tommy’s presence, Ranboo's smile brightened, before it immediately fell. Tommy didn’t blame him, he wouldn’t be surprised if he noticed Tommy didn't look too hot. Tommy figured his face was rather pale now, wasn’t it. Making his way over, Tommy slotted himself beside the tall bloke.

 “Hey, you alright man?” Ranboo asked relatively.

 Tommy nodded in response, “Yeah, I’m fine.”

 The brunette stared him down with a frown tugging at his lips before he sighed. “If you say so,” Ranboo shrugged. “Anyway, when Mr. Schlatt finishes with- whatever this is, he’ll take us to town. We’ll hang out down there for a bit, then Tubbo will call him and he’ll pick us up.”

 “Okay. Is there a lot to do?”

 Ranboo smiled, “Naw, not really. It’s a small town. But Tubbo really wanted to show you around and Purpled wanted to pick up some snacks and maybe a coffee.”

 Tommy mocked a gag as he looked past Ranboo at the blonde. “You drink coffee?”

 Whipping his head around, Purpled stared at Tommy with a blank expression before he scowled. “Yeah? What about it?”

 Baring teeth, Tommy responded, “It’s gross as shit man. Tea is better. Prick.”

 “Oh yeah? Coffee actually gets you moving. Tea just tires you out. Humble yourself, asshole,” Purpled rebutted.

 “Tea is so much better for your anxiety man! Chill! Coffee just stresses you out! Dumbass!”

 “It doesn’t stress me out! You’d have to be weak for it to mess with you! Loser!”

 “Well at least-!

 “Oh my Prime! Do they always do this?!” Schlatt asked Tubbo, exasperated. He was off the wobbly stool now and was throwing on a jacket.

 “So far, yes,” Tubbo replied solemnly.

 Schlatt grimaced as he started towards the foyer. “Whatever, don’t bicker in my car or I’ll leave you on the side of the road.” He turned making eye contact with Ranboo as he pointed at him. “Wheelchair?”

 The tall brunette suddenly hunched in on himself as he blushed, “I’ll be fine. I- I don’t need it.”

 Leaning on the doorway, Schlatt raised a brow in disbelief. “Mhm. Yeah, well, we’re bring it anyway.”

 “W-What!? I don’t-”

 “Just in case, kid. We’ll leave it at Niki’s cafe. You don’t even need to use it,” Schlatt reassured as he turned towards the front door again. “Come on! Let's go! We’re losing daylight folks!”

 “It’s not even four Dad,” Tubbo grumbled as he followed. He gave Ranboo a quick worried glance before following after his dad.

 Ranboo still didn’t seem happy about the decision. He hunched in more on himself as he grumbled quiet protests. Tommy found Schlatt’s compromise pretty reasonable, but then again, Tommy wasn’t the one stuck sitting in a chair everyday. He could sympathize with the brunette just a bit.

 “C'mon man.” Tommy bumped shoulders with him, though, it was more like his forearm with how tall this kid was. “Let’s go. I wanna go order a tea at whatever coffee place Purpled is going to take us to.”

 Ranboo snorted before he slowly nodded and made his way towards the door with Tommy by his side.

~~{o0o}~~

 “Prime! I cannot believe you!!” Purpled roared as he tried not to spill his coffee while he flung his arms around. The boy was lucky Niki served it with a lid.

 Cackling, Tommy retrieved his drink from a smiling Niki. A strawberry iced tea to be exact. “Suck it man.” Tommy dropped a five pound note into the tipping jar.

 “This is insulting,” Purpled snipped as Tubbo reentered with Ranboo and Schlatt close behind. Tucked under the oldest man’s arm was a flattened down wheelchair.

 “Heya Niki,” Schlatt greeted with a grunt as he hobbled over to the front counter.

 “Hello Schlatt,” Nike replied sweetly, she then looked towards the wheel chair before gesturing to it with her head. “Want me to take that?”

 “Yeah, just in case.”

 She nodded with a reassuring smile. “Just in case.” Walking around the counter, she took the wheel chair from Schlatt and opened it, leading it behind the counter. 

 “Guys!” Tubbo exclaimed, hopping his way towards the two verbally brawling blondes. “Ready to go? The gift shop is right across the street!”

 After giving Tommy another hard glare, Purpled turned to Tubbo with a smile, “Yeah, we’re ready. Ranboo?”

 “Huh?” Ranboo blinked, wincing as he looked up. “Yeah, I’m ready to go.”

 They all stared at him for a moment before Purpled spoke, “You sure?”

 Ranboo just nodded.

 “Alright. . .” Purpled began leading them outside.

 “Bye Dad!” Tubbo called before they left.

 “See ya Kiddo. Call me if you need anything.”

 Tubbo gave a dramatic solute before rushing out the door.

~~{o0o}~~

 Okay, Tommy was getting real concerned. They had been walking around, looking from shop to shop and Ranboo was full on limping now. Even with his crutches, it was like he had no control over his knees. It was- incredibly concerning. Tubbo and Purpled had definitely picked up on it too. If not before Tommy did.

 They all took turns subtly telling Ranboo things like “Hey, we can take a break if you want.” and “There's a bench! Why don't we have a seat.” or  “Niki’s bakery is right there. Wanna take a stop?” They were trying to be kind and subtle about it, but Ranboo kept brushing them off. It was starting to piss Tommy off and from the way Purpled kept glaring at the sky, he wasn’t feeling anything different. But they both seemed to know that yelling or being angry wouldn't do much good. So they stayed quiet.

 “Hey, we haven’t seen the record shop yet! Wanna go there?” Purpled asked as they strolled down the gravel roads.

 Tommy shrugged as he tossed his finished drink into a nearby trash can. “Yeah sure, I don’t think I’ve ever been in one though. What's it got?”

 Swerving around the other blonde, Purpled threw his own empty cup away. “Well, most record stores just have vinyl and stuff like that. But ours is like a mix of a vinyl store and a music store. They sell things like guitars, violins and pianos. But there's a wall dedicated to vinyl and it's a small shop, so we just call it the record store.”

 “Oh okay. Let’s go there then,” Tommy concluded as he let Purpled and Tubbo lead the way. Taking a glance behind, Tommy noticed Ranboo breaking into a sweat as he brought his crutches forward before basically dragging himself forward again. Repeat cycle. Tommy cringed. That had to hurt.

 “Hey Dude.” Tommy let himself fall behind to walk beside the struggling teen. “Want some help there? I can go get-”

 “I don't need any help!” Ranboo snapped quietly. No matter the volume, Tommy flinched anyway. He was being annoying. “I’ve got it,” Ranboo growled before a wave of guilt washed over his face. “L-let’s just go.” He continued to trudge himself forward.

 “If you say so. . “ Tommy whispered, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans.

:D :) XD

Chapter Text

Records

 The record store was rather small, but bigger than a lot of the other buildings they had stumbled into. It had a bit of a dark, modern style mixed with a sort of log cabin feel. The lighter logs that made up the majority of the building looked smooth and fake with shine. What made up for it was the dark metal trimmings wrapped around the whole building, around shudder framed windows and the front door. The elevated foundation was made of smooth dark stones. There were four concrete steps leading to the front door which oddly enough, was on the right side of the building rather than the front.

 They all climbed inside and started poking around after being greeted by this older gentleman. He had long aging white hair with ginger whisps through it. He kinda looked like Fundy thinking about it now with the orange hair and brown eyes.

 Purpled immediately ditched the group for the electric guitars on the front wall to the left of the door. While Purpled fawned over this electric blue guitar hung up high, Ranboo hobbled over towards the vinyl to the right of the front counter and started poking around. Tommy was hoping he’d take a seat at one of the many black chairs lying around. But alas, no such wish was granted. Instead, Tommy followed Tubbo towards the back of the store where the pianos were.

 There were keyboards of different sizes and different brands. A few upright pianos over to the left and a single grand piano on display.

 “You boys looking for anything in particular?” The older gentleman from earlier asked from the counter. Tommy turned and glanced at his name tag. Riley.

 “Naw, we’re just showing this guy around.” Tubbo elbowed Tommy in the side. Tommy swatted at his hair in return.

 “Ah! Tommy! My son has mentioned you before. Pleasure meeting the soon-to-be Watson,” the man laughed. Tommy cringed. Why do people keep saying that? Tommy has to leave eventually. “Anyway, my wife can tell you all about that boy named Wilbur. Many stories about him.” The man chuckled but Tommy wasn’t sure he wanted to hear any of them.

 “What about me?” A feminine voice came from an open door behind the counter. Tommy and Tubbo glanced over to see an older woman poking her head around the corner. She had long, curly, bright orange hair, with a few white streaks going through it, along with the prettiest green eyes that sparkled like emeralds. She was short, petite and very pretty.

 “Ah, hello Sally. I was just meeting the newest Watson!” Riley waved his wife over with beckoning hands. “About to tell him stories about that Wilbur fellow .” His voice dropped an octave as if he was referencing something.

 Sally chuckled as she followed from around the corner. “Ah yes. Wilbur. Friend of our son. Fundy.”

 “You’re Fundy’s parents?” Tommy asked.

 The woman nodded gently and sweetly. “Mhm! Took me eighteen years to raise the rascal. It’s a pleasure meeting you, Thomas? Right?” Sally asked.

 “Uh-”

 “He prefers Tommy!” Tubbo cut in.

 “Well let the boy speak for himself Tubs!” Riley said with a laugh before turning back to Tommy with cheery eyes. “Pleasure meeting you, Tommy.”

 Tommy smiled, genuinely this time, before curiosity got the best of him. “What did Wilbur do anyway? Seems like he did something .”

 Tubbo and Riley cracked up laughing while Sally just shook her head, a light pink dusting her cheeks.

 “Oh this is a good one Tommy! You're gonna like this!” Tubbo exclaimed as he clung to Tommy's arm. For a moment Tommy froze, before he let himself relax, allowing Tubbo to cling to his heart's content.

 Sally sighed, “Okay, so. I used to have Wilbur and Techno over a lot before Phil could work from home.”

 “Full days we spent with those two,” Riley cut in.

 “Y-Yes,” Sally huffed. “They were thirteen around that time? And uh- Hmm-”

 “Wilbur had the BIGGEST crush on Mrs. Sally!” Tubbo shouted in Tommy's ear. And while he waited for the ringing to stop, it gave Tommy a moment to register what he just said.

 “Wait- What?”

 “Oh yeah,” Riley chuckled. “Had fallen head over heels for my lady.”

 “He picked her flowers, bought her chocolates, would hardly leave her side if she was in the room! He even brought her on a ‘date,’” Tubbo explained as he started nodding his head. He leaned closer to Tommy. “He brought her to the river and made them sandwiches.”

 “Yes,” Sally chuckled as her cheeks only got more pink. Not red, Tommy might add. “It was all very endearing and he ended up growing out of it with time! But uhh- when he turned twenty one. . .”

 Tubbo picked it up, “He got drunk, had sex with a fish in the river and claimed it was Sally.”

 Riley started roaring with laughter as Tommy sputtered in disbelief. Sally just hid her face in her hands.

 “And the only time Wilbur brings this up is when he’s claiming to be Fundy’s real father,” he said all in one breath.

 Tommy’s mouth gaped as he looked back and forth from Tubbo to Sally. His gaze landed on the ginger. “You're joking?!”

 “No!” Sally cried with a laugh. “I’m not! Everyone in this town knows about it too!”

 They laughed together for a bit longer before the sun started setting and Tubbo decided it was time to head home. He texted his dad, they waved Sally and Riley a farewell, and headed towards the door.

 “Pleasure meeting you Tommy! Hope to see you around again,” Riley voiced his farewell from behind the counter again.

 Glancing over his shoulder, Tommy watched as both Sally and Riley waved farewell. With a smile, he waved back as they exited and began to descend down the stairs.

 Who knew walking down a few steps would cause such a downfall.

 Tubbo walked down first, then Tommy followed, with Purpled trailing as the third. Together they started walking away, before they heard a loud clatter followed by a quiet sob.

 Whipping around, they were faced with the sight of a sobbing, trembling Ranboo crumpled at the top of the stairs. His crutches are useless at the bottom of the steps.

 “Ranboo!” Purpled and Tubbo shouted as they started running towards the other. Tommy slowly followed from behind.

 “What happened Boo?” Tubbo asked calmly as he knelt beside him.

 “M-my legs-! My back-! Oh my Prime-, it hurts-!” Ranboo sobbed into his hands.

 Purpled tsked as he picked up the fallen crutches and put them to the side. “This is why we don’t push too much Ranboo.”

 “I-I’m sorry.” He continued to sob as he grabbed at his legs, slowly massaging them.

 Walking up the steps, Purpled hugged the other tight before pulling away with his hands on Ranboo’s shoulders. “I’m getting Niki and your chair alright?” Ranboo nodded as he bit his bottom lip, stifling his cries. “Right. I’ll be back.” As Purpled passed Tommy, he whispered, “Go to him. He trusts you.”

 That was all Tommy needed before he made his way towards the two brunettes. A couple steps down, he sat and looked up at Ranboo.

 “You okay. . .?” he asked quietly.

 Ranboo gave a wet sniffle and shook his head.

 “Y-Yeah. . . I figured.” Go on Tommy. Don’t be dumb Tommy. “Is there any way I can help?”

 It was silent for a moment before Ranboo quietly asked, “Can I hug you. . .?”

 A sharp breath got caught in Tommy’s throat as the blonde bit his lip.

 Ah screw it.

 “S-Sure. . .” Tommy forced out and scooted up a few steps, letting Ranboo bury himself in Tommy’s shoulder. At first it was awkward, but once Tommy relaxed and let the brunette just cry, he returned the hug as the blonde let his head rest on the other’s.

 “My Dad’s here. I’m going to go get him,” Tubbo whispered before scurrying down the road towards a running Schlatt. The man slowed when Tubbo started his way.

 Then it was quiet again. And Tommy just let Ranboo empty his eyes. Prime knows Tommy could’ve used this at times, a shoulder to cry on. He was more than happy to give it to someone else. No matter how much it made his skin tingle.

 “I-I’m sorry. . .” Ranboo murmured.

 “What are you apologizing for?” Tommy retorted, maybe a bit harsher than it should’ve been. Eh, he’ll blame it on hanging out with Purpled for too long.

 “I ruined everything just because I wanted to test my limits,” Ranboo grumbled out as he turned his head on Tommy’s shoulder.

 Ah, so they're getting comfortable. In that case. Tommy shifted so that his arms rested comfortably around the other’s back.

 “You didn’t ruin anything. We’re still gonna have fun and this is the best fun I’ve had all week!” Tommy explained as he looked at the forest edge. “And it’s good that you’re pushing yourself right?”

 Ranboo was quiet for a moment before he started explaining, “N-Normally yeah. B-But I’ve. . . According to my doctor, I’ve been pushing myself too much. I haven't been letting my body rest enough. It was why I didn’t see you at the river. I was at the doctors and they basically banned me to my chair for a week. This was the day I finally got off. A-and I wanted to prove myself.”

 When Ranboo quieted, Tommy couldn’t help but chuckle, Ranboo flinched but Tommy quickly reassured him by giving him a good gentle squeeze around the middle. “Well, now you’ve done it. You’ll be stuck in the damn chair longer. And it doesn’t make you weak for having a wheelchair,” Tommy reassured. “If anything, it makes you strong as hell! You’re working around an obvious issue despite everything telling you that you can’t. Plus that chair is fucking awesome.”

 “Thanks. . .” Ranboo muttered as Tommy felt the other’s lips form into a smile against his shoulder.

 “You’re welcome,” Tommy said smugly. He then got very anxious. A certain question came to mind that he wanted to ask. It had been bothering him since he met Ranboo for the first time. He didn’t ask at first ‘cause it seemed personal. But they were closer now. Could he ask? Was it rude? Would he be a jerk? Well, only one way to find out. “If you don’t mind me asking. . .”

 Ranboo hummed quietly in acknowledgement.

 “What. . . What happened? To your legs?” Tommy asked hesitantly.

 . . .

 “I’m sorry! That must be so rude to ask! I should just-”

 “No! No! I want to tell you! I- I trust you. . . Just. . . need to prepare myself. . .” Ranboo said quietly, finally pulling away from the hug. Staring at the concrete steps under them, he fiddled with his fingers. “I-It happened a few years ago. . . I was eleven. . .” Ranboo started as he continued to stare. “It was late. . . raining. . . and me and my parents were going out to eat.” He started fiddling with just his thumbs. “W-We were singing. . . and laughing. . . and- and before I knew it. . . the car started skidding across the road.”

 Tommy winced.

 “I can’t remember much more after that. . . All I heard was screaming and then just- pain. All over.” Ranboo looked up at Tommy with bright hedocromatic red and green eyes. How did Tommy not notice them before? “I don’t remember much of anything after that. Just rain. I don’t remember the ambulance coming. I don’t remember getting to the hospital. I don’t remember staying in the hospital despite doctors telling me I was awake. All I could remember was cold, wet rain. When I did knock out, I was in a coma for three days. When I woke. My parents were dead and I couldn’t walk anymore.”

 Tommy stayed silent.

 “They told me.” Ranboo stopped and squeezed his eyes shut. “They told me I’d never walk again.”

 Tommy snorted but no amusement was behind it. “Well that's just bullshit.”

 “What?”

 “Kid gets into a huge car crash!” Prime, Tommy hopes he’s doing the right thing here. “Loses his parents! Gets stuck in a wheelchair and they tell him he will never walk again? What bullshit! Where's all that toxic positivity that they always talk about? Dude, I drowned in that stuff. They should’ve given you a “Hang in There” poster!”

 The boy across from him blinked, before his head slightly tipped back in laughter. Tommy smiled as he silently congratulated himself.

 “You’re a good friend Tommy,” Ranboo said softly as he looked at the other.

 He faltered. Was he?

 “Ranboo!”

 They both turned towards the voice. It was Schlatt. Scrambling up the steps, he took a breath before beginning to bombard Ranboo with questions asking, “Are you okay? Are you in any more pain? Should I get your grandma?”

 Ranboo was quick to shut him down.“No. Don’t get her. She’s already worried as it is. I-I’m fine. Still in pain. B-But I’m fine.”

 Schlatt leaned back on the building as he sighed in relief. “Dear Lady Death! You scared the shit out of me kid!”

 “S-Sorry. . .” Ranboo apologized quietly.

 “Just don’t do it again kid,” Schlatt reassured as he stood and began to help Ranboo stand, wrapping an arm around his waist. “Let’s just get you comfortable.”

 Rolling the wheel chair forward, Niki left it and walked up to Ranboos' other side to help him down the stairs.

~~{o0o}~~

 “WHAT THE HELL MAN! That’s so cheating!” Tommy exclaimed, rather loudly. No one seemed to mind though. At least- not the loud part.

 “No it’s not~!” Tubbo sang as he sped past Tommy’s avatar, Raccoon Mario.

 “Why do those stupid blue shells exist in the first place. . .” Tommy grumbled as he turned his controller to the right then quickly to the left. Ranboo was leaning against Tommy’s shoulder as he just watched. He took some powerful painkillers, so he was pretty out of it. Purpled on the other hand was on Tubbo’s left, beating both their asses at this game.

 “Annnnd, finished.” Purpled’s screen had the checkered finished sign as he leaned back on the large gray ottoman behind them.

 “Guess it’s just me and you Bee Boy!” Tommy exclaimed as he used a mushroom to speed himself forward.

 Tubbo groaned as he fell off the side of the road. “Why did we pick Rainbow Road of all tracks?”

 A snort came from the other purple clad blonde, “What better road is there?”

 “Oh! I don’t know! How about Moo Moo Meadows or Coconut Mall!”

 “Those are baby levels,” Ranboo said sleepily as he nuzzled into Tommy’s shoulder.

 “Perfect for Tommy then!”

 “HEY!”

 3… 2… 1…

 “HA!” Tommy exclaimed as he sped through the finish line, just barely passing Rosalina. Or more commonly known as-

 “ FUCK! ”

 Tubbo.

 “Watch your mouth Tubbo,” Schaltt reprimanded from down the hall.

 “Sorry Dad. . .”

 Tommy snickered as the results of the game started rolling by. Pressing through them, Tommy paid little attention and just felt the victory of placing so close to first. He’d get Purpled next round.

 “Hey guys?” Tubbo got their attention. A few of them hummed in recognition. “Wanna take the switch over to my tree house? We can sleep there and everything.”

 “That sounds like a pogger's idea.” Purpled agreed? with a smile?!

 “What the fuck is poggers?” Tommy asked suddenly.

 Both Tubbo and Purpled gasped. In offense or shock, Tommy couldn’t tell.

 “You don't know what pog means?” Tubbo whispered as if scared to hear the answer. For his fears to be confirmed.

 “No. . .?”

 They gasped again while Ranboo just stayed curled up by Tommy’s side and yawned. “It’s just a cooler way to say something’s cool. Or to agree with something,” Ranboo mumbled. “You got pog, pog champ, poggers. There might be more but I can’t remember.”

 “I think you got them all,” Purpled confirmed as he started collecting controllers and throwing them in a random bag.

 “Pog. . .” Tommy tested the word on his tongue. He smiled. “Poggers.”

 “Poggers,” Tubbo nodded in agreement as he grabbed the switch from its station. “Now let's go! We got a pog treehouse to get to.”

 “No. Too much pog,” Ranboo grumbled into Tommy's shoulder. The latter snickered.

 “You can never have ‘too much’ pog,” Purpled retorted smugly.

~~{o0o}~~

 The porch outside of Tubbo’s tree house was filled with lights and laughter as the four boys all congregated around the picnic table. They were all in their pajamas as the sun started to disappear with the light from the lanterns and small portable console in front of them to light their way.

 Ranboo, while still half asleep, was kicking all their asses at this game. Smash Bros was it? Tommy doesn’t really know how to play the game. He just wants to knock the shit out of the competition. Right now he’s trying to knock Tubbo off the platform they're both fighting on.

 “Tommy! Stop dude!” Tubbo laughed.

 Snickering, Tommy finally knocked him off onto the main platform. “No.” He snorted as he started to push Tubbo’s character, Link? around again.

 “BRO!” Tubbo yelps as his character is knocked off the side. “Oh now you're in for it!” He respawns and starts charging for Tommy’s character, Donkey Kong.

 “Oh shit!” Tommy laughs as Link starts swinging.

 A few hours pass and it starts to get cold, so they all pile inside. Tommy had quietly asked if he could be the one to push Ranboo and his chair in, seeing that the brunette was now dead asleep.

 After getting an encouraging nod from the other two, he gently pushed Ranboo inside and parked his chair before helping him on the big yellow couch in the corner.

 Dude. This kid is lanky as hell. Tommy thought as he flopped him down on the cushions. He was kinda surprised the other didn’t wake once. Those painkillers must be strong as hell.

 Once Ranboo was settled, Tubbo didn’t hesitate to flop down on top of him leaning on the back of the couch. Purpled on the other hand went to the other end of the couch and curled up there. Glancing at Tommy, he patted the space beside him as he pulled a blue knitted blanket from off the back.

 And Tommy was about to join him before he realized they left the switch out on the porch. Grumbling, he turned and told the group he was grabbing the console. Prime knows he doesn’t want to be blamed for it being stolen or ruined by the grubby hands of a racoon or something along those lines.

 Walking out into the yellow light of the lanterns, the cold night wind nipped playfully at his cheeks before he spotted the switch and went to retrieve it. But before he walked inside, he looked up at the stars.

 He frowned at the speckled white dots in the sky. It’s been awhile since he last prayed. He wondered if the gods were angry at him for that. That they would resent him if he did start praying again. Something in Tommy’s gut told him no. But he wasn’t sure he could believe that. It was just a feeling in the end.

 Better now then never, the boy figured as he closed his eyes with his head still tilted back. With his hair swaying in the wind, his clothes sagging gently around his thin form, he finally prayed after too many years.

 He whispered to the skies above, “Lady Death, Madam Prime and King Ichor. Please, after all these years. Please.” Tommy opened his eyes and looked towards the skies above. It was like each and every unborn soul was looking back down at him with judging eyes. He let the shiver that snaked around his spine go by taking a deep breath in, before letting it out.

 “Let this be real.”

~~{o0o}~~

:D :) XD

Chapter Text

Falling Trees

 The world Tommy opens his eyes to is dark. No- not dark. Colorless. Void of all shade. Just black. Just black no color , no light, no shade. But- there is sound. A voice. Soft and melodic before his beautiful notes turn sour. A voice that sounds suspiciously like a certain brunette.

 “Now aren’t you just worthless. . .” Wilbur sneered into his ear.

 Whipping around, Tommy only found the void staring back at him. He glared at the offending space. “What do you mean. . .?” He dared to ask.

 Wilbur's sickening laugh echoed through the endless place, it was loud and seemed to echo on forever as if the place had no walls. It was hard to pinpoint where it came from. Where he was.

 “What a stupid question,” Wilbur scoffed into Tommy’s right ear. The boy whipped around to face him only to be met with nothingness, again. “You have to resort to gods for help. How pathetic. Can’t even help yourself?” His voice lit at the end causing the hair on Tommy’s arms to raise.

 A sudden feeling of protectiveness flooded through Tommy’s chest as he scowled. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

 “Gods? Really? You rely on possibly true, all powerful beings that haven’t done ANYTHING for you in the past eight YEARS!” By the end of his shout, Wilbur's voice changes from light and melodic to deep and rumbly.

 “You are a fool for going back to them,” Tommy’s father hissed.

 The anger firing in Tommy’s heart suddenly dies along with the words hanging on his tongue.

 “Dad-”

 “Don’t call me that.” Tommy’s mouth clicked shut. “You’ve always been too religious for your own good,” his father stated as he began to sneer. “Just like her .” His father’s voice shifted back to Wilbur’s. “You're pathetic.”

 “. . . I know. . .” Tommy whispered. Suddenly, a breath of cold air bites at his cheeks.

 “You should just kill yourself,” Wilbur geared. He sounded closer than before.

 Tommy stayed quiet for a moment. “I know. . .”

 “Why don’t you do it?”

 . . .

 “I’m scared.”

 Wilbur scoffed before he snapped, “Scared? SCARED! How selfish can you be! This world would be better off without you! These so-called ‘gods’ you have called upon will have one less pest to deal with! STOP BEING SO BLOODY SELFISH,” Wilbur screamed, causing wind to push against Tommy’s face, pulling his hair back and around, knotting itself.

 As the winds calmed and the void went quiet, Wilbur’s voice changed one more time from a males voice to a familiar female’s.

 “I raised you so much better than this,” his mother stated coldly.

 Tommy froze. Tears pooled at his eyes and he spun in circles to look for her. “Mama. . .” He searched for her curly blondes and her sparkling blues, an identical pair to his.

 He never found them.

 With a short gasp, Tommy awoke and he quickly found himself quite uncomfortable. With drying tears sticking to his face, Tommy felt a sharp pain stabbing into his side.

 Grumbling and pouting, he turned on his side, shifting to try and escape the threat poking at him. He only made it worse as the sharp thing stabbed deeper into him.

 Wait- is that an elbow? And a purple T-shirt? Tommy glared as he swallowed a whimper that wanted to escape his lips from it being just- too early in the morning for him to be feeling anything, not to mention pain. Tommy tried to discreetly pull himself away from the sleeping body. Then he remembered who was next to him right now. Who was disrupting his sleep.

 He grimaced as he punched Purpled in the shoulder.

 “Ow dude. What the hell was that for?” Purpled whispered as he shifted positions. He then threw the blanket over both of their heads.

 Without opening his eyes, Tommy grumbled out, “Move your damn elbow. You're stabbing me with it.” Purpled complied, not without some protest, but moved his arm so that it was around Tommy’s shoulders instead. Both boys relaxed again as Tommy let his head go limp against the other's shoulder, before they started falling back asleep. Well- that was until a loud BANG echoed from the door.

 Tommy flinched, but both boys stayed under the covers as loud stomps made their way over, ripping the blanket from on top of them. The blondes shouted in protest as the light flooded their closed eyes and the cool morning air brushed at their exposed skin.

 “C’mon sleepyheads!” Tubbo sang as he started opening curtains, adding more light to burn through their eyelids. “It’s been an hour since me and Boo woke! Now Dad finished breakfast and we need to eat! We got a big day today!”

 Purpled didn’t so much as move as he grumbled into Tommy’s hair, “What the hell do we have to do today? I thought we were just gonna screw around and chill.”

 Tommy could feel Tubbo’s glare. “We are! You know exactly what we have planned. Now get up! Niki and Jack are already setting it up!”

 “Setting up what?” Tommy asked sleepily as he started to rub his eyes and stretch with his arms and legs sticking out awkwardly.

 “You’ll see!” Tubbo chirped. “Now c’mon! Food is getting cold!” He started tugging at Tommy’s leg by his ankle.

 After having one more big stretch and yawn, Tommy finally pulled himself up, not without Purpled complaining that is.

 “Awe! Don’t leave me here!” He shouted as he threw the blanket over his head again.

 Rolling his eyes, Tommy ran his hand through his hair as he stood on shaky legs. “Let’s go Purpled, we don’t have all day.”

 The blond just grumbled as he curled in on himself, the blanket shifting with him. Tubbo and Tommy shared a look before glancing back at the lump under the blanket.

 They eventually got the blonde up and moving via uh- special methods. . .

 “C’MON DUDE!!”

 “NO!!”

 “Make him let go of the damn couch Tommy!”

 “I’m TRYING!! Purpled-! DID YOU JUST HISS AT ME?!?”

 They got him up eventually.

 Now they were walking side by side by side back towards Tubbo’s house. The morning sun was shining bright and warm down on their faces, making them look so much younger. Like toddlers. Gross.

 It was just like a normal summer day, but for some reason it felt different this time. For Tommy at least. As the sun cast its yellow glow across his cheeks and the trees sway gently left and right, it felt more than warm, it felt- thawing . As if his heart was no longer frosted over in years of ice, and was finally melting away. As if the castle of ice protecting him was tumbling down. It made him pause mid step.

 “Tommy?” Of course Tubbo noticed his hesitance. “You good, Big Man?”

 Tommy paused. Was he? He was getting awfully comfortable and that was never safe. That was never a good idea. Comfort was an easily stolen thing. It had been stolen from him time and time again. Normally, if he didn’t have it, it couldn’t get taken away. Now? It could most definitely get pried from his greedy fingers.

 Looking up at Tubbo and Purpled’s worried eyes, Tommy found he- he didn’t really care. Even if he knew he was standing at the top of an old, rotting tree, tall and unbalanced, he was willing to take the fall with it. For them. Even if they left him before the fall.

 He smiled softly. “Yeah, sorry. Just spaced out,” Tommy shrugged as he started walking again. Both boys smiled back as they finished walking through the woods and towards Schlatt's old house.

~~{o0o}~~

 With full bellies and a new day ahead of them, the four boys were quick to scamper from the house and deep into the forest. After eating an overall mediocre breakfast if Tommy's gonna be honest, they quickly got changed into a new set of clothes and rushed out the front door. Look- no one can top Techno’s pancakes and bacon. When did good food become so normal in his life?

 Shaking the thought away, he sped up to catch up with the loud group of boys thundering through trees. Purpled was currently pushing Ranboo in his wheelchair uh- much too fast. With Tubbo laughing and giving chase, they sped down the lumpy wooden path, the chair bouncing up and down along with its passenger, causing Ranboo to yell all weird.

 “AuhUhUhUh-” His voice bounced with the chair.

 Tommy laughed as he caught up with them running beside the chair. “You having fun there Boob boy?!”

 “uHuH!” Ranboo laughed along with the blonde, as a wide smile stretched across his face. It made Tommy happy to see his friend doing better.

 Later when they finally came to a stop, after being yelled at by a passing Foolish, they climbed their way into Ranboo’s tree house. The cherry red one.

 On the small porch, they laughed and sneered at each other as Tubbo helped Ranboo off the lift. While Tommy made a small funny comment towards Purpled, he turned towards the tall door. Made sense it was tall, the bitch was nearly six foot at the age of fourteen. On the door was a sign, like the one at Tubbo’s treehouse.

 “Memory Boy”

 “Memory Boy?” Tommy questioned out loud. “What’s with these signs?” He pointed a thumb at it.

 Ranboo perked up and glanced over his shoulder before his confused face melted away. “Oh! I thought you were calling me for a second. Those are our nicknames.”

 The blonde snorted, “Nicknames?”

 “Yup! Mine’s Memory Boy, Tubbo’s is Bee Boy and Purpled is Colorz.” Ranboo explained as he started rolling his chair towards the dark, almost black, door. There was no handle. Just a wooden button.

 “Hm- Weird names,” Tommy commented as Ranboo pressed the button. His eyes widened slightly as the door silently swung open.

 “Cool right?” Purpled whispered into his ear. “Tubbo made it.”

 It was cool. Tommy followed Ranboo inside with Tubbo and Purpled trailing. Inside the tree house was tall and narrow. Not uncomfortably so. There were large skylights in the roof to help light the room and an overhang with a lift towards the left and a ladder next to it.

 “Yeah, they're all pretty weird. We all have one. Purpled’s brother is Goldie, Jack is Whopper, Phil is Crow Father. The weirdest one is probably Dave.” The brunette pulled himself towards the deep red couch in the middle of the room facing a big black table and window with green blackout curtains. Odd color choice if you ask him, but at the moment Tommy didn’t care because there was a fucking cat sitting on top of the table grooming the pad of it’s paw.

 Tommy let out a startled laugh as he walked around the couch to see if he could pet it. “Dave? Whose nickname is that?” He asked distractedly while he slowly reached with his hand facing the ground towards the cat. It glanced up from where it was licking its chest to stare at his hand. Tommy smiled.

 “That would be Techno’s,” Purpled informed as he flopped down on the couch a bit away, “And that is not the weirdest one. That title would go to Charlie.”

 “What’s Charlie's nickname?” Tommy asked as the cat pressed its face into his knuckles. He cooed and crouched down to start petting it behind the ears. As it titled its head to the side, Tommy noticed the purple collar. He couldn’t quite read the name carved into the gold tag.

 Pulling up beside him, Ranboo parked his chair to pet, assumingly, his cat. “Charlie's nickname ended up being Goopy Lad.” Tommy wanted to bark a laugh but didn’t want to scare the cat so he bit his lip instead as he cracked a smile. “Her name is Ender Pearl by the way,” Ranboo pointed to the cat before he started stroking his hand down her back over her shiny black coat. Her yellow eyes glowed even in the day as the sun competed with their hue.

 “She’s beautiful,” Tommy complimented as he brought both hands to start rubbing her ears with his thumbs and pointer fingers. “Also why the hell is Techno’s nickname Dave?”

 Tubbo came into view and sat down on the couch next to Tommy. “He already had a weird name and due to his past he kinda wanted a normal one. For a while we tried different common or generic names, but none of them seem to stick.”

 Ranboo smiled and continued for Tubbo, “We tried Joseph, Fred, Mark but it wasn’t until Phil went on an hour rant on how basic the name Dave was that Wilbur said Dave should be Techno’s name. It stuck.”

 “That’s nice.” And it was nice. Tommy thought it was oddly sweet. But he didn’t like how he kept wondering, What would my nickname be?

 He cleared his throat. “How do you guys even pick the names?”

 The three other boys paused before Purpled came in. “It just kinda happens,” he shrugged as he looked to make eye contact with Tommy over the ears of the cat. “I got my name from- my uh- childhood obsession with colorful things.”

 Off to his left, Tommy heard Tubbo bark a laugh. “Remember that time you wanted to ‘ become the rainbow’ and so you ate a whole twenty four pack of cr–”

 “WE DO NOT NEED TO BE TALKING ABOUT THIS! MOVING ON!”

 They all laughed as Purpled cheeks burned red and his shoulders met his ears.

 “What about you Ranboo?” Tommy asked. Ranboo blushed.

 “That’s uh- a bit embarrassing- I don’t know if we should-”

 Tubbo cut him off, “When we were nine , there was this one week he was being super ditsy and kept forgetting things everyday. Papers, pens, his toys, his bag and a whole bunch of other things.”

 “Oh Prime.” Ranboo seemed to brace himself as he ducked his face into his hands. With a laugh, Tommy looked at him confused before turning back to Tubbo.

 “The final day of what we now call ‘Headempty Week’ Ranboo came all the way from his house to the firepit in just a shirt and boxers.”

 Now Tommy couldn’t help but roar with laughter at that one, before he trailed off, cackling as he fell back onto his bottom. It felt like the wind was knocked out of him. Surprisingly, the cat didn’t run in fear, she took his fall as an invitation to climb right into his lap. Tommy wouldn’t argue.

 “UGH! The worst day of my life if you ask me,” Ranboo cried into his hands as Purpled and Tubbo teased him.

 Suddenly, a sharp ring sounded from someone's phone. Tommy immediately went to check his phone, worried it was Sam but nope! Wasn’t his. It was Tubbo’s. The boy silenced the beast and held it to his ear.

 As the room lapsed into delicate silence, waiting for Tubbo’s call to be over, Tommy continues to gently pet the purring cat in his lap. Though he nearly threw the poor thing across the room at the thought that crossed his head.

 "̷̻̌L̸̟̈̕e̶͈̪͐͗ṭ̷͊ ̸͔̚h̵͉͎̾ė̶̼r̸͕͂ ̴̯̉c̶̜̣͝l̶͙̙̽ậ̸̬ẅ̴̢̫́͌ ̵͙͗y̸̎͊ͅo̶̯͌̓u̶͍̽r̸͒͜ ̷̜e̵̲̊͋y̶̥̅̈́e̶̳͗s̶͝ͅ ̷̺͝o̵̱̔ṷ̸̬̔ẗ̵̜́͆.̵̭̕"̸̧͉͘͘

 The boy froze mid stroke causing the cat to stop and mew up at him, seeming to be asking him to continue. Though her ask went ignored as his eyes glazed over, staring numbly past the black cat. He couldn’t move. A sudden image of claws coming down on his face and a sharp phantom feeling of knives racking down his eyes, caused him to stutter a near silent gasp. Tommy could imagine seeing nothing but darkness as the feeling of warm blood trailing down his cheeks reminded him he was still alive.

 “̵͖̽̎ͅỲ̶͙͑o̷͚̊͠ǘ̵̬̰̋ ̵̝̮̈̅d̴̢̟̃o̷̹̓ṉ̷͋’̵̜̭̿͆t̸̗͌ ̸̟̂d̷̮͛ͅe̸̥͒s̶͕̎e̴̙̒̇ȓ̸̙̲v̵̰̠̈́e̸̜̻̍̏ ̷̭͋̂t̶͈̂o̶̧̎̂ ̵̻̮́̆ṡ̸̩̑ͅę̶͑ȇ̷̞ ̸̹̈́s̸̤͎͆͛u̵̞͂c̶̝͌̾ȟ̴̡͛ ̷̲̽̽g̵͚̃ọ̸̽ò̷̜̽ḏ̸͗̋ ̸̬̝͗͋t̶̻̒ͅh̷̠̃͠i̴̡̦̐͝n̷̲͚̿̑g̴͉͝s̸̫̊.̴̤͆”̸͔͐̐

 A sudden feeling of fluff under his chin caused Tommy to look down. Ender Pearl was pressing her small head under his chin and started happily pawing his chest as she stood tall on her hind legs. Her purr became body shakingly strong.

 Then-

 “Alright! I’ll be there soon!” Tubbo’s soft voice came crashing through his thoughts. Tommy quickly whipped at his eyes before pulling the cat closer to his chest. Ender Pearl just kept purring.

 “Okay! I gotta go help Dream with something! I’ll be back soon!”

 “Wait what?” Tommy suddenly looks up and Tubbo is walking towards the door.

 The boy attempted to wave the others' worry away with his hand. “Don’t worry, I'll be back in like five minutes. George and Sapnap probably did something stupid and I need to help feed into the chaos- I mean help them all chill out.” Ranboo snorted. “I’ll see you all in a bit!” Then he disappeared behind the door that was two times his height.

 “Welp,” Purpled snorted. “They're dead.”

 Tommy and Ranboo nodded solemnly.

~~{o0o}~~

 Tubbo ended up returning ten minutes later with dirt covering his left cheek and his jeans soaked in mud. And while Tommy was curious what his friend got up to, he wasn’t about to question Tubbo’s antics when the kid looked half a second from snapping someone's head off.

 “AAHHHHHH!!”

 “Tubbo! No!”

 “Put me DOWN Ranboo! I’ma kill him! I’ma kill him!”

 You know what- Never mind. Purpled’s head.

 “I'M GONNA SKIN YOU ALIVE!!!”

 “LOOK! Look! I’m sorry! I didn’t know he was Benson! I swear!” Purpled pleaded for his life as he cowered in the corner of the room with his hands protecting the back of his neck. Smart.

 Simply raging, Tubbo thrashed around in Ranboo’s grip as his legs kicked back and forth under him. The fact the guy was sitting in his wheel and still taller than Tubbo was roaringly funny, as proven by the fact Tubbo was nearly being picked up by the armpits.

 “Doesn’t matter!” Tubbo fumed as he pulled at Ranboo’s fingers. “You should never kill a bee!”

 That sentence only made Tommy laugh harder as he wheezed out a breathless cackle.

 “It was an accident!”

 “You killed him with a fly swatter!”

 Ranboo cleared his throat. “You do know bees who leave the nest are females?”

 “Shut up Ranboo!” They both shouted.

 Ranboo shut up.

 Turning his head back around to face the cowering teen, Tubbo sheathed, “You should start counting your days, Purpled. Because when I get out of this bitch’s grip you are done for.”

 No wonder his nickname is Bee Boy.

 With a swallow, the blonde licked his lips anxiously before he glared. “You know what Tubbo?”

 “What.”

 “I don’t regret it.”

 “What.”

 A pair of red and green eyes flicked nervously around the room as beads of sweat trailed down his forehead. “I-I’d watch what you say Purpled,” Ranboo warned.

 “No.” Purpled said firmly. “I’m tired of your shit Tubbo. I don't regret killing Benson.”

 The room went silent.

 Then-

 “You're so dead.”

 Tommy would like to ignore what happened after all that. Purpled seemed to agree as he stuck close to the other blonde with a yellow bruise on his cheek. A few punches thrown and  begrudging apologizes later and they were back to a sort of peace. Or- the most peace they could get between the four of them.

 Then Purpled's phone rang, causing conversation to die down.

 Picking up the phone, the blonde held it up to his ear as he silently listened. Purpled nodded before giving a small “Okay,” and hanging up.

 He smiled, “They're ready.”

 Tommy let out a startled laugh. “Ready for what?” Glancing at the two brunettes to his left, he froze when he saw the excitement lighting up their faces. Even Ender Pearl who perched herself on the windowsill seemed to be smiling at him. “Oh Prime. . .”

 Twigs snapped and popped under foot as the four of them stepped off the wooden path. Or well- Tubbo and Tommy did. It took Purpled a moment to roll Ranboo’s chair onto the uneven ground.

 “Uh. . . Mind telling me where we're going?” Tommy asked nervously as he glanced over his shoulder at the disappearing fire pit.

 Tubbo giggled, “You’ll see! It’s a surprise!”

 “A. . . surprise?” The blonde asked nervously as his gaze flicked back to the other.

 The brunette nodded before he paused and jumped a bit. “Oh! You gotta close your eyes when we say!”

 Tommy didn’t like the sound of that. “Uhh, I dunno Big Man. . .”

 Behind him Ranboo spoke up, “Just this once Tommy. It won’t be long I promise.”

 The blonde bit his lip as his hands shook at his sides while they kept walking. Glancing over to a wide eyed and hopeful Tubbo, Tommy lets his hands relax. He would climb a rotting tree for them, the boy reminded himself.

 “Okay. . .” Tommy relented quietly.

 Tubbo cheered from beside him with happy little hops, following close behind. Laughing, Tommy let himself look forward again. His curiosity spikes considerably when a clearing shows up ahead. There are more people.

 “It’s time Big Man!” Tubbo informed as he hopped around onto Tommy’s other side, the boy following him with his gaze. “Cover your eyes! Cover your eyes!” He shouts.

 “Alright! Alright! I am! I am!” Tommy laughs as he covers his eyes with his hands. An arm links around his and he flinches before remembering who’s next to him then he lets himself go lax again.

 Distantly, he hears talking and laughing and even a few shouts and curses being thrown about. As the group gets closer, he can feel Tubbo vibrating against his side. Tommy lets out a breathless laugh.

 “Alright Tommy,” Purpled speaks from Tommy's right. “We really wanted to welcome you into the community so we got you something special.”

 “It was Tubbo’s idea and we really liked it and we hope you like it too,” Ranboo spoke softly a bit ahead.

 Then a pair of arms wrap around Tommy's side as Tubbo whispers, “Open your eyes Big Man.”

 With fluttering lashes, Tommy lets his arms come down, his left arm resting on Tubbo’s back as he takes a moment to take everything in.

 The clearing is small, making everyone crowd together. Off to the right, there's Niki and Jack and Fundy. To the left, Hannah, Dream and Drista. In the back, George, Sapnap and Quackity and more. Everyone. Well- everyone except the Watsons. It makes Tommy wonder what Phil and Techno are doing right now. If Wilbur is doing better than he last saw him.

 But his mind stops wondering when he looks at the rope ladder hanging just a few feet in front of him. His blue eyes follow up the sticks of wood tied together with old rope and to the tree it's tied to.

 There. In the base of the tall, wide oak tree, swallowed in green and yellow leaf cover branches, is a treehouse. Apparently, his tree house. His tree house. His place in the community. His spot in the forest. Permanently. This was an attachment. They were attached to him. He was attached. He liked it here. He wanted to stay. He wanted this. But this is attachment. He is comfortable. That can be taken. This will be taken from him. He will somehow screw this up and he’s attached and then it’ll hurt. It’ll hurt. It will be like H̴̫̿ö̶͕ù̸̙s̸͎̓é̵̳ ̷̭̽Õ̴ͅn̵͝ͅe̵͈̒ all over again! He can’t hurt again. He can’t be attached. He knew this was gonna happen.

 “We hope you like it Tommy,” Tubbo spoke softly. Tubbo never spoke softly.

 “Tommy?”

 Sucking in a breath, Tommy felt nothing collect into his lungs. Blinking, Tommy tried to clear his blurry vision but it only made it worse. He couldn’t see.

 “Tommy!”

 His ears rang and suddenly- Tommy felt nothing. He felt nothing as he fell towards the ground. He felt nothing as he hit the grassy floor. He felt nothing as feet pounded in his direction. He felt nothing as a blurred face was in front of his. It was like a dream.

 He felt nothing as he was lifted from the ground. He felt nothing as he was rushed away, his weight held up by two forces at his sides.

 They were talking. No- not talking. Yelling.

 After what seemed like hours of greens and browns and green and brown and green and brown, there was blue. Blue and yellow and blue and yellow and then brown again and then pinks and reds and purples and oranges. Then brown.

 Tap, tap, tap.

 What a funny sound.

 The brown turned yellow and then green appeared.

 “Yes?- What- Tommy! Tubbo?! What happened?!” The voice was soft and light. It reminded him of old books and piles of warm blankets and pillows. Soft calloused hands running through his hair and lots and lots of praises. Lots and lots of love. How does he know this voice? It felt like a dream.

 “P-Phil! W-we messed up!” That voice sounds panicked. Or are they happy? Tommy can’t tell. “I’m so sorry! We were having fun then we went to Ranboo’s treehouse and then I told him we had something for him and then we gave him a treehouse and now he’s not responding-”

 “Woah- Wait- what? You gave him a what?” The blanket voice said.

 There was a grumbly voice, “A tree house. . . We wanted to- We wanted to- Mm.” The grumbly voice stopped.

 “We’re so sorry Phil! We didn’t think he would- That this would happen.” The happy voice spoke.

 “Oh shit. It’s okay. We’re fine, I promise, let’s just get him inside.” Tommy doesn’t feel anything as the yellow light consumes him. There's more dark browns and dark blues and shiny yellow. Tommy doesn’t know where he is. Where is he?

 “Bring him to the couch. . .”

 Where is he?

 His hearing stopped working again.

 Where is he?

 It was like a dream.

~~{o0o}~~

:[  :(  :{

Chapter Text

Drowning

 Muttering. Muttering and talking. Talking and muttering. Muttering, muttering, muttering. People are muttering. Hello? Anyone there? No such question leaves his lips. Only a small mumble.

 The muttering gets louder. It’s warm. Is something touching his hand? He feels warm. More muttering. Then something is pressed into his ears. It makes him recoil. The muttering is muddled and then-

 A ukulele. 

 A ukulele?

 A ukulele is playing softly in his ears. Strumming. Playing. Strumming down, down, up-up, down, up. Down, down, up-up, down, up. Repeat. Repeat.

“I was scared of dentist and the dark,”

He- he knows that song. H-he loves this song.

“I was scared of pretty girls and starting conversations.”

 He used to play it all the time on the record player back home. When he left, w̸͙͍̰̚͝ḧ̵̘͎́͘e̸̙̊͐ͅͅn̵̻̍ ̵̯̫́̓ͅḩ̵̯̼̈̈́͝ë̷̥͚́̈́ ̸̘̬̓͆̽g̶͉̈́͛͝ͅo̶̜̫͆t̶̢͇̠͊̈ ̵̖͛͐l̴̨̡̙̽ë̴͓̖̩́̕f̶̝̓̍̋ţ̶̰̺̒ ̷̗̞̂b̸̨̝̙̉͌ę̵͇͙̍h̷̪̬̲̔̚ĩ̶̗̱̃n̶̠̙̈̓ḍ̷̘͑̀͝ , he would blast in his ears to chase the monsters away. He loves this song. It was his dad's favorite, wasn’t it? Eh- he can’t remember. Why bother trying.

Something rubs gently over his knuckles.

“Oh all my friends are turning green.”

 Didn’t he want to learn the ukulele at some point? He begged his mother to get him one of the little instruments for his eight birthday.

“You’re the magician's assistant in their dreams.”

 She didn’t get it for him. But that was fine! He was much more interested in the piano, wasn’t he? He wanted to be just like her. He’s certainly got the looks. Does he still want to though? Does he want to be like her? Someone who a̸̗̝̔͒͊b̴͎͝a̴̫̲͒n̶͙̋d̴̼̟͉̔̒͘ọ̷̖̪͊n̶̛̲̰̲s̵̟̪̯͗̈́̚ her family for her own s̷̬̻ë̸̘ĺ̶̦̖͋f̵̧̻͑i̸̡̙̊̆s̸̗͐ḧ̵̡́͘͜ ̴̬̩̉d̶̪e̶̢̯͑̋s̴̞͇͂ḯ̷̟̳̉ṙ̸̝͈ê̷̩̘ṡ̵̲ͅ - Wait- why is he thinking about this anyway? It doesn’t matter. Nothing does.

“OooooOOOoo~”

“AaaAAAaah~”

“And they come unstuck!”

Instinctually, a deep breath of air is pulled into his lungs, his shoulders tense as he waits patiently for the music to take him away.

“Oh lady! Running down the riptide!”

Just like that, his shoulders fall and the breath is released.

“Taken away to the dark side! I wanna be your left hand man.”

He lets the music wash over him like holy water in a Catholic church.

“I love you when you're singing that song and- I gotta lump in my throat cause you're gonna sing the words wrong.”

 The muttering around him becomes more clear. Two men. Talking back and forth but- A-are they talking to him? Or each other? He thinks to each other but then- then why aren’t they answering each other's comments?

 “C’mon, you got this kid.”

 “Why don’t you come back to us?”

 “We’re right here.”

 “Take all the time you need.”

 Odd.

“There's this movie that I think you’ll like.”

 “Take all the time you need, Tommy.”

 W-who’s Tom-? Wait-

 A sudden wave of white noise starts thundering into his ears like a hurricane.

 He’s Tommy. He is Tommy. He is Tommy Innit. Thomas Innit. Thomas Theseus Innit. He is a fourteen year old boy sitting in his favorite spot in the Watson living room, in the green armchair.

“This guy decides to quit his job and heads to New York City.”

 Tommy blinks and squints. The room is bright. Too bright. It's warm. He’s really warm. But not sweltering. He feels his shoulders twitch and a bit of fluff grazing his arms makes him flinch before realizing it's just a blanket. A nice blanket. It's soft and fuzzy and gentle on his skin.

“This cowboy’s running from himself.”

The music is coming from headphones.

“And she’s been living on the heights shelf.”

 Tommy blinks and colors form. Brown. There's- a lot of brown and- and blue and then– pink? And green. Pink and green. Pink and green. Pink and green. Techno and Phil. They're here. In the living room. With him. He’s coming back. He’s back, wait- why is he trying to come back? Why is he focusing on all this?! He doesn’t want to be here! He doesn’t need to be here! He doesn’t deserve to be here!

“OooooOOOoo~”

“AaaAAAaah~”

“And they come unstuck!”

He closes his eyes again, brows wrinkling.

“Oh lady! Running down the riptide!”

But it’s too late.

“Taken away to the dark side! I wanna be your left hand man.”

He’s awake.

“I love you when you're singing that song and- I gotta lump in my throat cause you're gonna sing the words wrong.”

 “You with us Tommy?” Techno’s gruff voice breaks the vibrating white noise. It would be relieving, reassuring even, for anyone. Anyone else. Anyone but Tommy. Because Tommy doesn’t want to be reassured anymore. He doesn’t want to be here anymore.

 Slowly, sadly, pitifully, Tommy nods and then promptly bursts into tears, burying his face into his hands as the headphones fall from his ears. This- all this, is too much. He can’t take their games. Their kindness. He can’t bear to have it ripped from his hands again. He can’t, can’t, can’t, CAN’T!

 “Oh mate,” Phil coos and Tommy flinches as an arm is wrapped around his shaking shoulders. “I know, we’re right here.”

 But I don’t want you to be! Tommy wants to scream. But he can’t. His cries have only gotten more violent. He can’t breathe.

 Suddenly, big hands are gently cradling Tommy’s. They're rough, calloused and scarred. And they’re stupidly carful. Holding Tommy’s hands as if they’re glass. As if they’re precious glass. Stained in glorious beauty and finest colors the world can offer. And Techno’s looking into Tommy’s eyes with just as much care. He cares. And Tommy hates it.

 “Take a deep breath Tommy, you’re having a panic attack.”

 Oh, is he? Maybe that’s why it feels like he's been smashed by a large semi truck.

 Tommy sucks in a breath. Hardly anything, not to mention air, gets in. Now he’s just sputtering and coughing but Techno still praises him.

 “Good job, again.” So demanding. Tommy glares at him and Techno has the audacity to chuckle. “I know, c’mon.”

 Taking a stuttering breath in, Tommy lets the bit of air he collected sit in his lungs before it’s practically crawling right back up his throat.

 Even with his horrid attempt, again, Techno praises him. “That was good, again. In for four, hold for seven, out for eight.”

 Tommy begins to suck in another breath as Techno counts four seconds. When he gets to four, Tommy holds his breath as Techno starts counting again. At the seventh count, Tommy lets his breath loose as Techno counts eight. He lost his breath and started coughing again long before Techno finished.

 “Awesome. One more time. You got this.”

 In for four. Hold seven. Out eight. He breathes in for four. He holds for six. And is out in four.

 “Keep going if you need Tommy. We’re right here.” Tommy finally realized Techno is still holding his hands, gently rubbing his thumbs up and down the back of his hands.

 In for four. Hold seven. Out eight. He breathes in four. Holds for seven. Breathes out for eight.

 Phil gently squeezes his shoulder, “That was awesome mate. Can you do it again?”

 He breathes in for four. He holds for seven. Out for eight. He can feel his heart start to slow.

 In for four. Hold for seven. Out for eight.

 In for four. Hold for seven. Out for eight.

 Tommy lets his eyes fall close.

 In for four, hold for seven, out for eight.

 In for four, hold for seven, out for eight.

 The world is quiet.

“I just wanna, I just wanna know.”

“If you're gonna, if you're gonna stay.”

“I just gotta, I just gotta know.”

“If I can’t have it, I can’t have it any other way.”

~~{o0o}~~

 The sound of pattering rain tapping softly against the window sounds like the gentle beats of a drum as it sounds in his ears. Tap tap tappity tap-tap tap tap tip. And sure, it goes offbeat ever once and awhile. Every once and a while it’ll break its tune with a sharp tint tint! But it’s pleasant and merciful. Gentle and busy. Those are not the words Tommy would describe his mind at the moment.

 It’s suffocatingly numb. Silent and eerily still. And in that silence only a single voice speaks and it’s not even his own. It speaks hushed and angry. He’s heard it before. In his head.

 “̸̫͕͊̈́͊Y̶͕̻̒̕o̶̝̔ụ̷̹͂̅̅͜ ̷̼͕͖̇̎d̶̠̭̊ǒ̶̯̻͕n̸͉̤͕̽̆̎’̵̃̑͜t̵̨̬̉ ̵̬͍̓̒d̸͉̬̐ẻ̷̦͝s̷̘͓̍̈́ẻ̴̹͙͒͜ȑ̴̘v̵͙̣̾̅̕e̷͈̤̠̊ ̶̨̡̫͂̊̇t̴̥͖̉o̷̗͈͗͜ ̷͍̜̑͂ͅl̸͓̓̂̒ĭ̸̙̺̐v̶̯̙͊e̷̝͐͝.̵̉, It hisses.

 Tommy can’t respond as he stares at the dripping water trailing down the guest room window. He’s found he’s not a fan of water anymore. At least not big bodies of it. It’s always mean, violent and angry. He doesn’t want anyone to be angry with him. He doesn’t want to be yelled at. To be hurt. Not anymore.

 “̵̜͌I̷̹̒ ̴̯̃c̷̳̕a̷̞͠n̸̰̏ ̷͇̒f̸̡͛i̸̘̓x̶̖̒ ̶͍̎t̷̛͙h̴̠͐ǎ̶̯t̷̞͝.̶͠,”̸̼͛ It offers.

 Turning his head, Tommy lets his face get buried into the fluffy pillow under his head. He’s practically swallowed in cotton and feathers at the moment after Phil insisted he got comfortable, that he feels safe.

 “I always feel safer when I’m surrounded by a good foundation,” the blonde man had said as he readjusted the pillows around the boy. Pushing pillows against his back and stomach so it was practically cradling him. And Phil said it with such confidence too. The sweet, familiar smile graced on his lips, crinkling his eyes, defining the crows feet at the edge of them, only helped the older look more welcoming. More loving. More fa-

 “̵̘̾̉F̵̹̲̆ö̸͉̻͑r̴̨̛̤g̵̥͌e̶̖̓t̴̟̯̀̇ ̴̗̹̓͘â̵̺̓b̵̭̓͝ỏ̸̰͊ù̸̺̙̒t̵̺̒ ̸͇̹͌̋h̸̬̓i̷̛̹͜m̸̆͜.̴̲̉͠”̴̗̃̋

 That's where Tommy tenses. He- he doesn’t want to forget Phil. He doesn’t want to forget Techno. He doesn’t want to forget Tubbo or Ranboo or Purpled or Niki, Dream, Drista! Hell! Even Wilbur! As much of a dick he is to Tommy. He’s still so kind to others. Tommy’s seen the way Wilbur smiles at Ranboo or hugs Tubbo. How he always listens to Niki and how she trusts him in return. How he cares so deeply for his brother and father. That’s the whole reason he hates Tommy isn’t it?! He’s trying to protect his family! Because Tommy is a threat! Tommy is in the way! He’s screwing everything up just like he always does! He’s always a problem! A problem child! A waste of space! PLEASE! DEAR LADY DEATH! JUST TAKE ME AWAY!!

 . . .

 “̸͓̭̿̈Ș̴̻̊e̷̦͊̑e̴̡̿,̴̛̬̖̇ ̶̡͔͆n̷̤̈́o̴͚͌w̵̛̱ ̸͖̈ȳ̸̡̤̽ö̷͉́ü̷̺͜ ̶̤̣̓g̸̮͔̾̃e̸̙͐̚t̷̠̐ ̵͔͓̃͆î̵͎t̸̨̳̋.̵̙̅̋”̵̩̄ The voice says softly but it does nothing to hide the threat about to appear. And Tommy knows it’ll appear. Whether he fears it or not is another question.

 “̴̅̽ͅI̴̹͐f̵͙̓ ̴̲͖̌́y̴̻̤͑o̵̞̒ȕ̷̙̳ ̷̹́t̷̳̉ř̷͉u̸̙͕͗̾l̶̢̝y̸̢̾̾ ̴͎̀͂w̴̞̒̒a̷̬͈͊n̸̩̒̐͜t̶̜̔ ̵̡̭͠t̸̻̽̆ͅḥ̴̜̕ẽ̸͓̦ ̵͇̜͛͝b̸̦̓e̴̔̈́ͅs̷̟̉ț̴̡̛ ̷̪̍̑ḟ̶̰̚o̵͚͒r̸̮̈́ ̸̟̟̈́ẗ̴͓̣́̿ȟ̵͔̜͝e̴̢̪ṡ̷̱̱e̷̠̘̎ ̷̙̐̆p̵̰̦̌e̴̤̓o̵̜̭͂p̴̢̎̕l̶̖̥͝e̶̘͝.̶̫̗͌̐”̸̦͍̂

 Prime, Tommy does. He truly, truly does.

 It continues, “̷̗̈G̶̹̒o̷͕̫̍ ̵̩̹̈́̕t̸̺̠̓̎ó̵̗͓̕ ̷̠̎͠t̸̢͔̾h̶͓̝̔e̷̞͇̍͘ ̵̧̫̉r̵̰̼̈̎i̷̮̟v̸̖̽é̸̥̼r̵̠̈́.̴̖̯̅ ̵̙̖̆͐Ä̸̯̹́n̷̛͚̓d̸͚̒ ̵͖̹̑͌n̵̪̂͂ͅe̵̡͈͌͠v̷̦̚e̴̢͈̅r̷̝̄ ̶̼̥͑ṟ̴̻̒ẹ̴͋t̵̳̭̊͌ủ̵̖r̵̳͙̀̓n̸̫̭̄.̶̧̩͝”̶̗̏

 He will.

 Quietly, silently, Tommy pushes the pillows and blanket away from him, sits up, and stands. Without a peep, he walks to the door and opens it with a quiet squeee before he creeps out into the dark hall.

 Without a word, he walks. Without a word, he turns down the stairs. Without a word, without another thought, Tommy opens the front door. Then he’s walking down the cold stone steps and disappearing behind thick trees.

 Branches snap and break, letting familiar and welcomed cracks and pops echo through the seemingly empty forest. What isn’t familiar nor welcoming is the way the thorns and bits of twig rip up the pads of his feet. Tommy’s sure a trail of blood is following him. But he can’t seem to care.

 A little past Ranboo’s tree house, Tommy turns right. After another beat, the flat land dips and the sound of rushing water pounds into his ears like someone thundering through an echoing hall.

 He hates that sound now. He can’t stand it. It’s loud and crazed. Large and violent. Too big for Tommy to understand. To comprehend. To handle. And even now, as he stands tall on top of a large pile of wet and algae covered rocks, he still doesn’t understand it.

 Why does it have to be so angry? So violent? Why can’t it be calm like its brother, the lake. The lakes are always calm. Always gentle, even as the water is tousled by swimming fish or rippled by floating boats. They’re both so similar, lakes and rivers, both bodies of water varying in size and shape. Yet they're so different at the same time. Why must they be different? And why must the river be so angry?

 Then, as Tommy stares at the sharp rocks protruding dangerously and threateningly from the white water, he understands. He gets it. He gets the anger. He gets the loud. It’s protecting itself. It’s keeping it and the things it gives home to safety. The rushing water that fills its body, the rocks that build its foundation, the algae that grows along its stones and every single living being crawling and swimming about its body. It’s big and angry and loud to protect those it cares about. To protect them from threats. Threats like him. And it's about to do its job.

 With his toes curling around the edge of the rocks, Tommy looks down at the white rushing water as cold droplets spray at him.

 Shuffling his feet, Tommy begins putting weight on one leg.

 Taking a deep breath and closing his eyes, he lifts on foot forward letting blood drip into water below and as the red is washed away, he leans forward and-

 “Sorry kid.” A pair of large arms came under his and wrapped around Tommy's chest. “Not happening on my watch.”

 Tommy’s been silent this whole time. This entire time, since the moment he woke up to now, he has been silent. And he hoped to keep it that way. A quiet death. Not to make more problems while he’s alive. But as Techno pulls Tommy towards his chest and begins dragging him away from the river. He screams. The boy screams. Blood curdling and loud and ugly, he screams.

 He’s crying now. Tears and snot pour from his face as he thrashes in Techno’s vice grip. He’s not letting go! He’s not letting him go! “Let me go!”

 “I can’t do that kid.” And then he’s being lifted, and then he’s being taken away. Away from the river. That angry, angry river. The river Tommy despises.

 “Don’t take me away! Don’t take me away!!!” He wailed as he reached desperately for the rushing water. Kicking his legs and pushing against Techno's chest as he sobs because Techno just keeps walking. He ignores him. Just this once Tommy doesn’t want to be ignored. “Don’t ignore me!!” Tommy cries.

 After receiving another harsh blow to the chest from Tommy’s fist, Techno shifts him so that his arms and legs are trapped against the older man. In response, Tommy shoves his face into Techno’s chest and wails. He wails and wails and wails. He doesn’t even fight anymore. He just cries.

 A large hand starts threading through the base of Tommy’s hair, tugging gently at his short curls. Techno whispered with his nose pressed into Tommy’s hair, “I’m sorry you felt you needed to do that Thomas.” His fingers gently cradled his head and tucked Tommy closer. “No one should ever feel that way. No one. And I’m sorry I had to be the one to tell you this and that no one told you sooner.”

 Tommy just kept crying as he felt himself swaying back and forth while Techno walked, before they emerged from the depths of the forest trees and the Watson house appeared just up the hill. The boy whimpered.

 “It’s alright, I promise,” Techno tried to reassure him. Tommy still shook.

 Tommy wasn’t ready. He wasn’t ready to face Phil or Wilbur. Because once Techno tells them what he nearly did, what he tried to do, things will change and problems will get worse. Wilbur will tell him he was correct all along. That he scared Techno. That he was causing problems, he was being a nuisance. And Tommy might see Phil genuinely angry for the first time. And Tommy has no idea what that will look like. He doesn’t know how he’ll handle an angry Phil.

 Opening his eyes again, Tommy starts trembling as Techno brings them up the porch and through the door. As soon as Techno steps through the walkway, another spike of fear rockets up his spine. He begins crying and thrashing in Technos grip again. He begins screaming again.

 “L-Let me go!” Tommy gasped and wailed.

 Techno only held him tighter. “No. You are going to hurt yourself.”

 Tommy only broke down into more helpless sobs as he head fell back uselessly.

 “Techno. . .?” A sleepy voice suddenly spoke. “What's going on? W-What happened?” Wilbur asked as he started walking down the stairs. The man had thick bags under his eyes and his hair was in a tossle as he rubbed at his eye.

 “Uhhh. . . T-Tommy he uh-”

 “What happened to Tommy?” Phil asked worriedly from the top of the overhang, a green rob wrapped loosely around his chest.

 Techno glanced down at Tommy as he anxiously bit the inside of his cheek. He sighed,

 “Tommy tried to kill himself.”

“I just wanna, I just wanna know.”

“If you're gonna, if you're gonna stay.”

“I just gotta, I just gotta know.”

“If I can’t have it, I can’t have it any other way.”

]: ╥_╥ >﹏<

Chapter Text

Reality vs. Expectations

 When Techno had pulled Tommy away from the river and began carrying him back to the house, Tommy had thought of all the possible reactions Phil would have to his little- attempt . As tears poured from his eyes, he thought of Phil looking at him with fear, resentment, or even disappointment. But in the end, he got what he least expected.

 He expected Phil to be angry- no, furious with him . Pissed off at the fact this boy nearly, and probably, ruined his reputation, his public image, over some petty, selfish reasons. Because how dare this boy come into his home, take his kindness, use his generosity, spend his money and throw all that away just because he was “sad.”

 He expected the man to be fuming at the ears, pale face flushed red and hot with simmering rage. He expected anger but anger was not what Tommy got. What Tommy got was a pair of tired blue eyes that before now only stared at the boy with careful gentleness, and dare he say it- love, widen and fill with teary eyed dread .

 “W-What. . .?” Phil sputtered as his hand met his chest. He looked down at them like a mother who had just been told her child died, before he came rushing down the stairs on bare feet. “W-What do you mean. . .” the man asked as he crept past a frozen Wilbur towards Techno and Tommy. His eyes kept flicking between him and the man holding him.

 Techno gave the man a hard glare but his voice did not match its intensity. It wobbled. “I’m not gonna repeat myself Phil,” he stated, still holding Tommy bridal style. And the boy was getting sick and tired of it. He could feel his arms and legs cramping and even bruising from being held so tight. He wanted to be let go. He wanted a chance to fucking breathe. So with little energy he had left, he fought some more.

 Whimpering, Tommy pushed against his chest trying to lift his legs out of his arms. Techno only tightened his hold, hurting him more. Tommy made a sad, defeated sound as his head met Techno’s chest again before he sobbed, letting tears soak into the man’s shirt. It’s the same shirt from that first night under the sparkling stars. The one with the cartoon pig. He gripped it tight with his fingers.

 “You gotta calm down before I let you go kid,” Techno reasoned.

 “You're only going to freak him out more, Tech,” Wilbur’s voice finally came in. It was wobbly and tight like plucking an out of tune guitar string, tight as if the man was trying to hide the fact it wobbled. Tommy felt himself go ridged. “You're big Techno, and you're holding him incredibly tight. Put him down on the couch, get him comfortable and just. . . keep an eye on him.” The man goes quiet before he whispers, “Let him breathe. He needs to feel safe. . . Not- trapped. . .”

 With a sharp quiet breath, Tommy looks up to see Techno staring down at him, contemplating with pursed lips. Then his brows furrow as he grunts and carries Tommy into the living room.

 “Techno-” Phil starts.

 “I know,” Techno rumbles as he gently lowered Tommy onto the green armchair. Before Tommy could even move an inch, a white blanket was being pulled around his shoulders and chest, practically swaddling him in place.

 Techno then gave him a pointed look, his lips shut tight and frowning as his brows furrowed and wrinkled his face while they lifted near the ends. “I’ll be back,” he says. Not a threat. A promise. Tommy watched as he stood and swiftly turned to begin marching out of the living room. Quick to take his place was Phil, who instantly began swathing him with more blankets Tommy has no idea where they came from. As they layered, Tommy could already feel his body temperature rising. It was really cold out there, wasn’t it.

 “Is there anything I can get you Tommy? I can get you food, water, more blankets. Though I’m sure Techno is already making something. . .” Phil continued rambling as he fretted over the state of the mound of cloth around him.

 While he kept meandering, Tommy caught sight of a flash of yellow just over Phil’s shoulder. Curious, Tommy let his eyes wander towards the blue couch. There a tall, lanky Wilbur in a yellow sweater was hunched over on the couch with his elbows on his knees as a nimble hand pressed over his mouth. His shiny brown eyes kept darting around the room from the fireplace, to the clock, to the TV, then to the book shelf on the far wall, only to bounce right back to the fireplace again. He was muttering to himself. Until he stopped, blinked and glanced towards Tommy. Sparkling, worried browns meet scared, icy blues.

 Tommy tensed and braced to be snapped at for staring but- nothing happened. Wilbur just stared at him, not even coldly, just- starring. Then his hand slides down his face to cradle his chin revealing tear marks trailing down his cheeks. A new one is being formed right next to his nose. He then gives Tommy a sad, horrible attempt at a smile before it slowly dissipates as he glances away again to stare at the fireplace, clock, TV, and bookshelf. Silent tears started pouring from his eyes again as he shook.

 It takes Tommy a moment to pull his gaze away. That was. . . That was the first time Wilbur ever- smiled at him. . . At least- kindly smiled. Well- if you ignored the tears. Why was he crying?

 Suddenly, Tommy flinched as a warm hand cupped his cheek. Looking back towards Phil, he saw the man had stopped rambling. Now he was staring into Tommy’s eyes.

 He seemed to be thinking about something. What about? Tommy has no clue, but the longer and longer they stare at each other, the more aware Tommy becomes of well- everything. His breathing, the clothes he’s wearing, the blood dripping from his cold feet. Wait- what?

 Glancing down, Tommy panicked at the sight of blood dripping from his feet onto Phil’s nice hardwood floors. He whimpered as he lifted his feet up and curled his toes as he tipped his feet to the side. Phil’s eyes widened at the sound as he let a hand slide from his cheek to fall onto Tommy's knee.

 “What’s wrong?” He asked quietly before following Tommy’s gaze towards the ground. “Oh dear. . .” Phil took a moment to examine the cuts and scrapes as he gently cradled one of Tommy’s feet in his hands. “Mate, there’s so much debris. . . Wil?” He turned towards his son.

 The man quickly looked up after wiping his eyes.

 “Can you get the first aid kit?” Phil asked kindly with a smile.

 Wilbur raised a confused brow until he glanced down at Tommy’s feet. That only seemed to amplify his emotions, since a few more tears slipped down his cheeks before he nodded and stood.

 Tommy watched silently and worriedly as Wilbur left the room, before looking back at Phil with wide desperate eyes. But when his eyes looked for Phil’s, they weren’t there. They were staring down at the ground as Phil sat on his knees. He looked lost. He looked defeated and an overwhelming amount of guilt seemed to come pounding down on Tommy’s heart like a sledgehammer. It felt like chains were grappling around his chest and pulling him down because this was his fault. His fault Phil was sad. It was his fault Techno was stressing. His fault Wilbur was crying! It's his fault! HIS fault!

 “Hey, hey- Mate. It’s okay. We’re okay!” Phil reassured as he reached a hand up to wipe away tears Tommy didn’t know were falling. It wasn’t till he heard, and felt, himself sob that he realized he was having a full mental breakdown.

 “Deep breaths Tommy,” Phil pressed on as his other hand came up to cup Tommy’s other cheek. “We’re okay. I promise. We will work through this, just take a deep breath.” And Tommy tried, he really, really tried but it seems his lungs were mistaking oxygen for poison.

 “Dad?” Someone asked but Tommy couldn’t tell who.

 “Shit- Wil- Give me a moment. Toms, you gotta breathe,” Phil pushed gingerly as if Tommy was made of glass. In a way, he kinda felt that way. Cracked and shattered glass so far beyond repair that it would be better to just let it go. And while Tommy doesn’t know how to feel about Phil using that nickname, he can’t help but feel reassured by it and the soft fingers rubbing his cheeks, all worn and calloused from age and turning book pages. “Deep breathes. We’re okay. You’re okay, you’re safe now. I promise.”

 Why does Tommy believe him? Sure he has his doubts. But deep, deep down in his cold, cold chest, Tommy feels hope. And he’s not sure he wants it. His breathing slows.

 “Good, you’re doing so wonderfully. Hey Wil?” Phil looks away towards the brunette standing awkwardly off to the side as he fiddles with the lid of the first aid kit. “Can you help Tommy while I make a call?”

 Both Tommy and Wilbur tense.

 That’s when Tommy finds his voice. “N-No. . .” Tommy whispered. “N-not him. . .” Phil’s head snapped back worriedly at the teen, his eyes blown wide with concern. “Don’t leave me with him. . .” Tommy begged as more tears came pooling in his eyes.

 Phil’s wide eyes went from wide with concern to wide with anger. His brows furrowed and his pupils became sharp and pointed rather than wobbly and wide. Slowly, he turned his head back to Wilbur with nearly bared teeth.

 “William. Soot. Watson. What have you done.” It was not phrased as a question. Not in any way. It was a demand. A hard cold demand. Phil has never demanded anything from any of the boys throughout Tommy’s entire stay. Throughout Tommy’s entire month of being here, Phil has never gotten angry. Now he is. Angry. Now he looks pissed. And for once in his life, it’s not because of Tommy.

 Wilbur’s own eyes were wide. Not with fear like Tommy thought they would. No, they were wide with regret . Then as his brows drooped, his eyes were shining with something Tommy never thought he’d see from the man. Guilt. Wilbur felt guilty.

 “I’m waiting.” Phil’s tone got softer at the sight of both occupants tensing. “What did you do,” he demanded again.

 “I-I didn’t-” Wilbur choked out. “I never- Phil I’d never- I’d never say something like that- y- you know I wouldn’t! D-Phil-”

 Wait- Tommy paused. Does Phil think- Does Phil think Wilbur told him to- to- Oh shit!

 “Wil. Calm.” Phil stood and walked over to the taller with his palms to the sky. Wilbur choked on a sob.

 “Y-You know I wouldn’t. Dad- P-Phil! You know I wouldn’t! Not after Mom! Not after Sorley! Dad! You know I wouldn’t! I wouldn’t tell him to do that-”

 The mention of Wilbur’s mother kind pulls Tommy into the conversation again. What happened to his mother? Did she die? Tommy wouldn’t be surprised. The better question would probably be how did she die. But that’s really none of his business now is it? And Tommy’s still curious who that Sorley person is. Were they siblings? Friends? Did he die too? If so, how?

 “Wil. Calm,” Phil reminded him again, firmly setting his hands right beneath Wilbur's shoulders. As he rubbed his thumbs across his arms, he looked up into the man's teary eyes, “I know, I know you wouldn’t tell him that. You're not a complete fool,” he chuckled. Wilbur seemed to be trying to laugh, but it sounded more like a sob. “But you did do something. And we will be talking about that later. Do you understand me?”

 Wilbur nodded into his father’s shoulder as he sniffled, trying to compose himself with big deep breaths. “I would never tell anyone to do that Dad. . . Not after him. . . Not after Sorley. . .”

 Tommy froze. Did. . . Did Sorley. . . Did whoever this Sorley person is. . . Did he- No. No, this is none of Tommy’s business.

 Phil began whispering and Tommy guessed his eavesdropping was no longer welcomed, so he turned to stare down at his bloody feet again. He focused on the way the cuts stung and itched from mud caked into them. He hopes he’ll get the chance to clean them up before they get infected. Tommy is not looking forward to that kind of pain again. But then again, doesn’t he deserve it?

 “Okay Toms. . .” Tommy still doesn’t know how to feel about Phil saying that name. “Let’s get these all cleaned up and then we can get you comfortable okay?”

 Tommy just nodded as Phil set down a towel at Tommy’s feet and opened the first aid kit that was set off to the side. Inside the decent sized box was some gauze, band aids, tweezers, rubber gloves and some antiseptic wipes, along with a few other medical Knick knacks. Phil grabbed for the tweezers first.

 “Right, if it gets too painful, just let me know or tap my shoulder and I’ll stop okay?”

 Yeah right. Like he’s gonna cause more problems for this man. He’s going to stay silent and still, no matter how painful it gets. Tommy nodded anyway.

 Phil gave him a skeptical look, before he seemed to let it go and turn his attention back towards Tommy’s wounds. With tweezers pinched between his fingers, he began. And as every bit of moss, rock and twig got yanked out of his foot, the harder Tommy bit down on his lip to stop himself from yelping or even crying. But even with his attempts to keep himself silent, it did nothing to stop himself from flinching when the tweezers pulled against his skin the wrong way.

 And every time Phil would apologize, every time he pulled a splinter from his foot, every time the tweezers dug too deep into his foot, he apologized. “Sorry, mate.” He’d suck in a breath, “Sorry.” Time after time again. “Apologies mate, that one seemed to sting.”

 It wasn’t till Tommy’s lip seemed to have had enough of Tommy’s constant chewing and started bleeding that Phil realized he needed to give the boy a break.

 “Alright mate, I’m gonna go get some water to soak your feet in to get rid of all that mud.” That was when Phil muttered under his breath, “Probably should have done that first but. . .” He cleared his throat as he locked eyes with Tommy again. “Can I leave you for five minutes?”

 Tommy began to nod before a deep grumbly voice spoke from behind him.

 “No Dad, you can’t. He is now a flight risk.” Techno spoke softly, but it did not stop Tommy from recoiling at the words and hunching in on himself. The pink haired man came around the purple arm chair and set a bowl of curry on the side table between the two chairs. Tommy nearly teared up at the sight of it. Curry’s his favorite.

 “And I’m not saying that to be mean,” Techno reassured as he crouched down in front of Tommy. And as Tommy looked into his eyes, he noticed they looked. . . different. . . Their bright amber was dulled. . . Dulled as if the light was sucked out of it. Or given away.

 “I’ll be right back,” Phil whispered as he stood. With a gentle pat on Tommy’s back, he walked out of the living room.

 As he disappeared, Techno stood and walked towards the couch as Tommy just stared at the bowl sitting innocently off to the side as if it had wronged his entire life.

 From the couch, Techno suddenly spoke up, “Eat. It’ll make you feel better.” It didn’t sound like a demand, but Tommy was gonna take it like one anyway. So with both hands, he cupped the bottom of the bowl and began to slowly eat.

 As he slowly ate away, small bite by small bite the feeling of being watched crept up his spine. It was subtle, but it was enough to look up. From there, blue eyes met with ambers and both Tommy and Techno stared into each other’s souls for a solid minute.

 It wasn’t till quiet footsteps began padding down the stairs that Techno blinked and looked away. “Sorry. . .” He muttered.

 Tommy just looked down at his lap where the cooling bowl was laying.

 Phil appeared in Tommy’s peripheral vision with a white tub full of water in his arms. After giving Tommy a gentle smile, he placed the tub at Tommy's feet before gesturing for Tommy to place them in. Just as he did so, the water went from crystal clear to dark and murky as small swirls of red poked out here and there. For a moment Tommy was worried the water would be ice cold, but he found himself pleasantly surprised when it was a gentle warm.

 “Just keep them in there for a minute or two,” Phil instructed as he sat on the purple armchair. He let his eyes close as he let his head rest limply on the pillow sewn to the back of the chair, making him look like he was half asleep.

 It made Tommy realize just how late it was. It was like three in the morning. The sky was still pitch black outside and the stars were still shining.

 Quietly, Tommy picked up the bowl and set it aside before he let himself lean back onto his own chair. He really messed up. He really really messed things up. If he didn’t get sent away before, he was most certainly going to be sent away now. But at least- at least he wouldn’t be a problem anymore. At least to this family. Because this family, out of every single family he has been stuck with, even his birth one, this family has been the kindest and the most forgiving of them all. They deserve someone so much better than him. Someone kind, considerate and just as passionate as them. As Techno with his flowers. As Phil with his sons. As Wilbur with his music. They deserve someone better. And once they send him away, they’ll get that chance.

 A sudden sound of sniffling causes Tommy’s eyes to fly open. His gaze shoots over towards the purple armchair. No longer is Phil leaned back on his chair, he’s hunch forward, much like Wilbur was earlier, and his face is buried deep within his hands as his shoulders shake.

 In a minute, Techno is shooting up from his own spot on the couch to try and comfort his father. He crouched down in front of the man with his big hands on the man's small shoulders as he pressed their foreheads together. And Tommy stared as Techno starts muttering, presumably consoling words, as a few tears run down his own cheeks.

 Tommy’s eyes widened. He really fucked this up.

 He really, really fucked up big time.

~~{o0o}~~

:[ :( :{

Chapter Text

Ticking Clocks

 The rain was still pounding against the window when Tommy’s eye fluttered open again. Though, the reason they opened wasn’t due to the constant pattering rain, it was to the sound of shouting reverberating from down stairs.

 “You’ve got some explaining to do!” echoes through the floors.

 There’s hardly ever yelling in the Watson house. Despite the occasional playful banter from Wilbur and Techno, this house is usually quiet in the mornings, so it’s an odd thing to wake up to. That can’t be said for houses Four and Ten. They were especially loud homes. Screaming kids and arguing parents. A shiver crawls down Tommy’s spine at the ghostly memory of a screaming infant right in his ear.

 “WHAT THE HELL DID YOU DO TO THAT BOY?!” someone practically screams through the halls.

 Tommy blinks and his brows furrow. Sitting up in bed, Tommy stares at the door right across the room. Is that who he thinks it is?

 Someone's talking, then-

 “Oh really?! So he just up decided to go fucking kill himself? Real believable Phil.”

 Yup. That’s Sam.

 With a deep breath collecting in his lungs, Tommy pulls the soft and warm blanket from off his chest to expose the rest of his body to the cold afternoon air. He watches as goosebumps begin poking up from his thighs and down his calves. Then he just stares at his feet, limbs wrapped in yellowish gauze.

 An experimental toe twitch causes the boy to cringe in pain. Welp- they say adrenaline is one hell of a drug. Now Tommy has to deal with the consequences of his actions.

 With an angry huff of breath, Tommy lets his legs slide off the side of the bed to rest airily above the ground of the bedroom floor. Biting his lip, Tommy lets his feet fall to gravity. He sucks in a sharp breath. Oh that hurts like a bitch. That hurts like an absolute bitch. Fucking- Ichor! Just smite him down now! Lady Death have mercy!

 Tommy forces the breath he took out of his lungs as he stands and he grips the bedside table with a strength that would probably splinter the damn thing if he wasn’t in so much pain. Biting down on his scared lip, Tommy shoves himself away from the side table to begin limping towards the door.

 After many minutes of tumbling and shuffling, he finally made it over; he slumped against the wall to try and give his poor feet a break. A shock of pain climbs up his calf as he quickly stands tall again. Turns out putting all of his weight on one injured foot wasn’t the best idea. Practically on his toes, he yanked the door open ready to get this all over with.

 If Phil doesn't send Tommy away, he won’t be surprised if Sam just takes him back after all this.

 Just as he thought that, Sam shouted something from down the hall.

 Slowly, Tommy limps quietly down the hall after the sound of arguing adults. When he glances around the corner of the staircase, he’s left with the sight of Sam facing Phil, Techno and Wilbur with nothing but anger. That causes him to pause and shrink back behind the wall.

 “Phil,” Sam stresses. “I trusted you with him!” he shouts.

 Phil gives him a pinch expression, his lips tight and long. “I know Sam, I know and I don’t know what to tell you.”

 “Tell me what happened!”

 With a step forward, Techno’s the one who cuts in, “We don’t know what happened. And what we do know was given to us by two panicking teenagers and a dissociated, suicidal one. What the fuck do you want from us?!” Phil puts a hand on Techno's shoulder to pull him back.

 Tommy’s eyes widen, Techno’s never cursed before. Nor sounded this. . . irritated. . . Did Tommy cause this? Tommy’s gaze falls to the ground. Yeah. . . Yeah he did. . .

 “All we got, Sam, is that Tubbo, Ranboo and Purpled overwhelmed Tommy with a gift. He panicked and it sent him spiraling,” Phil elaborates but then he pauses and his eyes flick to the floor. He looks tired. “Though. . . I don’t think all of us are completely innocent either.”

 Every single adult looks towards Wilbur. The brunette tenses, but it looks like he was already bracing himself for this.

 Sam somehow looks more furious as he snarls, “After everything, did you really tell him to-”

 “No!” Wilbur shouts tears pouring from his eyes. “Yes! I was a jerk to him! Yes! I said a few things! But I never, NEVER told him to kill himself! I just- I just wanted him out of my home. . . I never wanted him hurt. I just. . . I didn’t want. . . I didn’t want-”

 Phil puts a firm hand on his back to start rubbing loving circles. “And we get that Wil. But that wasn’t, nor is, a decision for you to make. Not to mention making such brash decisions around him and treating him the way you did.” He scolded him so gently Tommy didn’t know if it was a scolding or not in the first place. “Tommy is someone who deserves not only a safe place to sleep every night, but a home. A family. And I want to provide that for him. Just like I did for you and for Techno.”

 After a moment of staring into his father’s eyes, Wilbur just closes them and nods. “I’m sorry. . .” he whispers.

 “S’not us you should be apologizing to,” Techno says with crossed arms, before one of his forearms props up to point up the stairs right at Tommy, “It’s him.” Tommy ducks behind the wall in a cowardly attempt to hide himself.

 “Toms. . .” Sam whispers before he’s pushing himself up the stairs three and a time to stand in front of the shaking blonde. “Oh my Prime. . .”

 Tommy just bits down on his lip.

 “Stop that. . .” Sam chides quietly. Tommy lets go of his lip only to nibble on the inside of his cheek. The man sighs, “Let’s go talk, okay?” After Sam gestures down the hall, Tommy turns to start limping towards the guest room before a gentle hand is placed on his shoulder.

 “You’re limping. . .” Sam mutters, staring down at Tommy’s feet. “What happened?”

 “I uh. . .” Tommy swallowed. “I didn’t wear any shoes when I was walking in the woods. . .”

 Sam gives him that funny look that makes his nose flare and brows lift at the end, before offering an arm for Tommy to lean on. Tommy takes that arm, letting Sam lead them down the hall into the guest room.

 When the door closed, Sam hardly hesitated to start questioning Tommy. After pushing the boy to take a seat on the bed, Sam knelt down in front of him to look him in the eyes as he asked the first stupid question that came to mind, “Are you okay. . ?” If there was any other noise in this room, Tommy wouldn’t have heard him.

 Silence was Sam's answer as Tommy stared numbly at the wall right past the man.

 “Can you talk?” Sam asked just as quietly.

 Tommy lets his eyes fall close as he nods.

 “Okay. . . Do you want to talk?” Sam asks gently as he starts rubbing a thumb against Tommy’s knee.

 As tears slip from his eyes, Tommy shakes his head.

 “Alright, just yes and no questions then,” Sam smiles as a few tears of his own fall. He’s quick to wipe them away. That's when Sam seems to get impossibly quieter as he asks, “Do you still have those thoughts Tommy. . . The ones from last night?”

 Tommy shakes his head no but. . . he’s not sure. He hasn’t felt or heard anything, but there hasn’t been much time to really. . . contemplate doing it again. Well- maybe there has. Maybe he doesn’t actually want to do it again; he certainly doesn't fear what he tried to do. Surprisingly.

 A weird choking noise bubbles from Sam's chest. “Be honest with me Tommy.”

 There's a moment of silence, then Tommy swallows and whispers honestly, “I don’t know. . .”

 “That’s okay. . . It’s okay to not know. Now. . . Did Phil say or do anything to you? Anything like past homes that I need to know about.”

 An arrow of panic shoots through Tommy’s whole nervous system as he frantically shakes his head. He tries to speak, tries to tell Same no! but it only comes out in ugly garbled sobs.

 “Okay! Okay! I hear you! I hear you! I understand.” Sam holds Tommy’s shoulders to keep the teen from toppling over. “Deep breathes Toms, you're okay, you’re safe. I’m right here.”

 Taking that breath, Tommy lets his head hang loose from his neck as fried nerves flinch and spass.

 “Has Techno done anything?”

 Tommy shakes his head.

 Nodding, Sam moves on as his voice seems to go sour. “Now, I know Wilbur did something.” With a gentle hand, Sam lifts Tommy’s chin to make eye contact. “What did he do?”

 At first, Tommy wanted to say nothing. Let Sam figure it out for himself. But Wilbur already admitted to it. Wilbur already told them. So. . . why does Tommy have to keep hiding?

 With a trembling, quiet voice, Tommy told Sam. . . everything. Everything Wilbur said. Everything Wilbur did to him. Everything Wilbur did that resonated with him.

 Tommy started with Wilbur’s overall closed off nature. Only talking to Tommy when forced, sending over pinch and forced expressions. Off hand comments about Tommy that were overall- unnecessary and uncalled for. Switching gears, Tommy talked about that night by the firepit. His rude comments and cut offs. Overall cold intentions. The man has even snapped at him, telling Tommy how he knew nothing and was a literal brat who had everything handed to him. Thanks for that man.

 And as Tommy told Sam this, he explained that in the beginning, it wasn’t a problem. It was annoying and rude, sure, but Tommy himself wasn’t so innocent either. Often “poking the bear”, making rude comments and snides towards the other. But then Tommy talked about that day by the river. That day. . . About how that day should’ve been wonderful. A day to escape the foster family; Tommy always has that one day he can be away from all those confusing emotions. A day to get away. That day was supposed to be that day and it got snatched right out his hands. And even after he was knocked to the ground, he was still kicked when he was down. He told Sam what Wilbur had said. He told Sam how Wilbur seemed so big at that very moment. How he felt so very, very small, shirtless and exposed in that cold creek compared to Wilbur, who seemed so genuinely big towering above him like an earth shaking mountain.

 He told Sam how he was scared. He was scared of Wilbur.

 Then Tommy told Sam about his headphones. His beloved music. How it felt Wilbur took Tommy’s literal soul right from his chest before he had the audacity to threaten violence with him. But. . . even after Tommy pushed him to. . . even after Tommy asked for it. Wilbur held back. Wilbur showed him mercy. Out of fear? Out of respect? Or did he just pity Tommy? The boy explained that he still has no idea. That he still finds Wilbur confusing because Tommy has seen him do good. Tommy has seen Wilbur be kind.

 By the end of his divulgence, Tommy was sobbing his eyes out into Sam's chest as the man rubbed a comforting hand up and down his spine. And finally the man spoke in a whisper, “There’s no excuse for what he did to you. He was rude. He was violent. He was unfair and you did not deserve anything Wilbur threw your way. Do you understand?”

 Tommy nodded as he rubbed lightly at his nose.

 “What I want you to understand is Wilbur, when he was younger, there was a big change in his life that cost him someone very special to him. He’s now seeing that big change in you. You are a big change in his life and he sees you as a threat.” Sam snaked a hand under Tommy’s chin to make him look the other in the eyes. “In a way, he fears you just as much as you fear him.” Wiping some of Tommy’s tears with his thumb, he smiles as he continues, “He is just as confused of you as you are of him.”

 Tommy. . . Tommy could genuinely sympathize with that. Losing someone really messes with you. Tommy has his own evidence of that. But it doesn’t change how much Wilbur’s words hurt him. It hurts! And he hasn’t even gotten a single damn apology! He sobs all this out to Sam as he clutches the front of the man's rumbled white button up.

 “I know. . . I know he hasn’t. And that’s not right. But we can't force him, then it wouldn’t mean anything, now would it?”

 The boy nods into Sam’s chest again.

 “Now. . . Here’s what I have to ask, and Tommy.” Sam makes a point to look straight into Tommy’s eyes, it was like he was staring into his soul. “You have a say in this.” The boy just stares as Sam asks, “Do you want to stay here with Phil? I have another family waiting-”

 Tommy is shaking his head long before Sam finishes as he whispers, “No. . . No. . . I don’t wanna go.” Before Sam can protest, Tommy continues, “I know it’s selfish. But I don’t wanna go. . . Phil’s been so kind. . . Techno’s so comforting to be around. . . Even Wilbur seems alright if he wasn’t such a jerk. . . Prime. . . It’s so stupidly selfish. . . Never mind, Just take me away, it’s fine I don’t know what I was thinking-”

 “Not selfish.”

 “What. . .?”

 “You’re not selfish,” Sam says again. “It’s not selfish to want to be around the people you care about.”

 “Even if I’m hurting them. . .”

 Chuckling Sam says, “Tommy, you aren’t hurting them. Sure what you tried to do did hurt. But it hurts because they care.”

 That’s when Tommy’s eyes widened, “Th-. . . They care?”

 Sam burst into laughter, “Yes! Yes they care! Phil specifically tells me nearly everyday that he adores having you around. He tells me all about what you guys have been doing, your interests and what he is fascinated about you.” As he goes quiet, his smile falls. “Has Phil not told you yet?” he asks in a near whisper.

 “Told me what?”

 “Oh. . . I guess he hasn’t.” Sam seems to be thinking out loud as he rubs a hand up and down Tommy’s back. “That’s okay. If Phil didn’t think it was time to tell you then he was probably right.”

 “Tell me what?!”

 “Ehhh, you’ll find out soon enough,” Sam smiles cheekily.

 “OH! C’mon Man! That’s not fair!” Tommy whines as he pushes away from Sam’s chest. With a pout, he slumps and crosses his arms indignantly. “Keeping secrets from me. Rude.”

 “Ha! It’s not rude! It’s business,” Sam shouts back with a chuckle.

 “My business if you ask me. . .”

 “I didn’t, just so you're aware.” Tommy glares up at Sam. He just smiles before his face suddenly sobers. “You do know that more boundaries have to be in place now. . . Right?”

 After a beat, Tommy nods his own face wiped of a smile.

 “I’ll talk to Phil about most of them but it’ll mostly include more boundaries. There will be a suicide lock on your window, Phil’s gonna put away sharp things, medications and drugs and stuff like that, along with that everyone in the house is gonna be keeping an eye on you.”

 Once tears had dried and everyone had settled last night, Tommy had started thinking about that. About what Sam was gonna do when he found out. Tommy had heard about foster kids who got caught doing something like what Tommy did. Or even just running away. Life for them after was usually hell. But hearing the boundaries being put in place, knowing what kind of foster home he was in, Tommy knew things would be alright. At least for now. And while it kinda sucked, Sam seemed to genuinely care. Even if, after all these years, Tommy’s still stubbornly convinced Sam’s kindness was because the man is required to by law. So. . . Tommy was okay with this. At least for now.

 “Alright. . . “

 “Alright?”

 Tommy nodded.

 “Okay,” Sam said with a smile. “Now, I’m pretty sure you need to get some food in your system, so let’s get you downstairs.”

 It was a struggle but after a few bumped heads and trips, Sam was picking Tommy up to carry him down stairs. An embarrassing ordeal if you asked him, especially with an audience of three, but the idea of tripping down the steps and falling on his face was arguably more embarrassing in his humble opinion. So Tommy sucked up his massive ego and let the man carry him like some stupid toddler. Very loudly.

 “Put me down already!” he screeched again as he pushed against Sam’s chest

 “Do you want to fall on your face?!” Sam yelled back just as they reached the bottom step. Tommy was quick to scramble out of his arms and lean on the railing as he glared at Sam. The man just put his hands up in surrender, even if the eye roll proved he wasn’t very submissive.

 An awkward cough to the right caused both Sam and Tommy to glance over at the little crowd that had gathered. Techno, Wilbur and Phil all looked rather confused until Phil glanced down at Tommy’s feet and gasped.

 “Oh mate, you should not be standing right now. C’mon, let’s go to the living room.” The man began ushering him up as he wrapped an arm around the younger's back to begin leading him through the foyer.

 Once Tommy had been seated in the green armchair and a white blanket was draped over his lap, Phil excused himself to go speak to Sam. When he disappeared, Tommy let his mind drift as he stared at nothing in particular. A few moments of staring later, Tommy was pulled from thoughts as a book suddenly appeared in his vision. It was the book Techno lent him, purple bookmark poking out of it and everything.

 Glancing up, Tommy made eye contact with the person holding the book to see Techno staring back at him. Some old, old gray book was in his other arm. And Tommy’s means old. The front cover was faded and nearly falling at the seams as the pages were a yellowed brown. Tommy squinted at the font written on the spin of the book. It was written in Greek. Since when does Techno know how to read Greek?!

 Tommy blinked as Techno set the book in his lap before walking around him to sit in the purple armchair.

 Opening his own book, Techno started reading before he coughed and without looking up said, “We never did get to that reading session, did we?”

 Instantly Tommy relaxed and smiled as he turned to look at the book in his own lap. Picking it up, he opened it to the bookmarked page. “No, no I don’t think we did.”

 And so together they read.

~~{o0o}~~

:D :) XD

Chapter Text

Holding Horrible Grudges

 Alright. If Tommy’s gonna be completely honest with himself, even if it’s just for once in his life, Tommy doesn’t know how to handle this.

 It’s been around a week. A week since. . . that day. And Tommy’s kinda been banned to the living room. He’s allowed to be in the guest room, but Phil kinda panics whenever he does so Tommy has just resided himself here. And that’s fine. It’s not uncomfortable; he's got blankets, books, a laptop. The only complaint he has is Techno won’t let him get up on his own. Anytime he catches Tommy standing to either go to the bathroom, get some water, a snack? Anything? Techno somehow appears out of nowhere to give him an arm to lean on. He always knows.

 They have all fallen into a sort of routine. After a few small bumps in the road, a few breakdowns and arguments, a routine and constant was found. Tommy woke up. Tommy walked down the hall. Then Tommy would try to walk down the stairs before Techno found him and carried him down instead. Still embarrassing if you asked him, and even if they didn’t, he still made it clear to the whole world and the gods above. After that whole war, they would eat breakfast together before Tommy hobbled into the living room to do- whatever he could as he waited for his feet to heal.

 And Tommy hates to admit it- but he really, really misses his- his f- friends . Especially Tubbo. Tommy hates to say it but the boy has grown on him. And it hurts even more to say the boy hasn’t visited. So Tommy can’t help but worry he screwed up yet another relationship. The other day he actually got the courage to ask Phil about it. The man had given him a pinched smile as he explained that Tubbo wants to visit but Tommy’s little breakdown triggered something in the other boy and he was now stuck in his own house arrest.

 At first, Tommy had been horrified but Phil was quick to calm him down and explain that Tubbo just gets really overwhelmed by really big emotions from others or in general. If someone feels really really sad, he can feel it in himself but as a sort of. . . physical feeling. A weight on his chest. It even happens with positive emotions like happiness or excitement. He was already wound up that day and- Tommy’s little meltdown was the perfect cherry on top of the mountain of ice cream troubles for his own mental breakdown. So Schlatt was keeping the poor boy home.

 But- all that- Tommy can deal with. It’s irritating, sure, but he kinda gets it. Especially with Tubbo. But Tommy’s more bitter about the codling. Tommy’s injured, sure, so it’s only right that they help him a bit. And while he’s not sure he counts as a guest anymore, they still view him as one. Treat your guests well, they say. So, that’s not the issue. The issue comes in the form of a certain tall brunette. A tall brunette who seems to be making his way into the living room at this very moment.

 “Hey Tommy! I brought lunch,” Wilbur says with a weary smile as he holds a bowl of soup out towards the younger.

 Wilbur’s been nice .

 Tommy glares at the older with a disgusted scowl. Trying to hide the way his body tenses, Wilbur’s smile widens. It’s not even creepy, it's just- depressing.

 He’s too nice. And Tommy doesn’t understand it.

 Just a week ago, he was ignoring him only to make unnecessary rude comments every now and again. Now he’s been the one taking care of Tommy the most. At first, it had been Phil or Techno with Wilbur trailing behind. They wouldn’t leave them alone in the same room for long. Smart. But after a few days Wilbur started appearing alone more and more. Friendlier and friendlier each day.

 And Tommy. Doesn’t. Get it.

 Tommy’s face stays disgusted as his gaze flicks to the bowl held out in front of him. He’s sure Techno made it, Tommy can’t even imagine anything good coming from Wilbur. The question is why isn’t Techno the one who came to give it to him? It makes him angry. Techno and Phil know how he feels about this man and it seems they’re trying to push them together.

 Relaxing his brows just a touch, Tommy looks back up to see Wilbur nervously biting his lip as he still holds the bowl out. He wonders when Wilbur will break. When will Wilbur get rid of this stupid nice façade?

 Tommy’s eye flick back to the bowl and he realizes he just might know. So without another thought, Tommy lifts his hand high, and knocks the bowl right out of Wilbur’s hands.

 Both of them watch as the bowl loudly clatters upside down against the floor letting at the soup pour from the glass. It doesn’t break. But it was a mess. And it most certainly would leave a red stain in the large cream colored rug.

 Quickly looking back up at Wilbur, Tommy tenses himself to try and hide the fact he’s shaking all over. The man just looks stumped. Like he has no idea what to do. Tommy watches as Wilbur brings his hands towards his chest as he fiddles nervously with his fingers. When Tommy looks into his eyes, he sees disappointment, regret and even fear.

 But where is the anger?

 Why isn’t he angry?

 “Uhm. . .” Wilbur finally says something and Tommy gets excited , the man will finally say something to piss Tommy off, Tommy will say something in return and then he’ll snap . But then- “It’s fine if you didn’t want to eat. We could’ve saved it for later. But it’s okay. I’ll go clean this up.” Then he picks up the bowl and spoon, smiles at Tommy before turning on his heel and walking away.

 What. . .?

 What the hell was that?! Tommy wants to fucking scream. That- That wasn’t how this was supposed to go! Wilbur was supposed to be furious. He was supposed to yell! He was supposed to scream! But- But he didn’t. He- he just smiled. . . Like he was happy but deep down he wasn’t. But not at Tommy. He wasn’t upset at Tommy! WHY?! He was being brat! He has been nothing but difficult for him this entire week and still! Wilbur hasn’t broken this STUPID act!

 With confused furrowed brows, Tommy stared at the red liquid staining the gentle white rug. Well. . . perhaps Phil will end his own game of kindness with this. The red liquid continues to slowly spread across the cream rug. Tommy couldn’t help but imagine it as his blood. His blood seeping into the pure rug that had not done a single thing to deserve being tainted. Tommy can imagine taking one of the knives locked away in the highest cupboards. Slitting his wrist, slowly, painfully. Watching the blood ooze from his skin before bubbling and slowly dripping to the ground collecting in a thick puddle of red.

 Red. Red. Red.

 "̸̨̗͈͙͇̠͉̱̙̝̲͆̊̚͜Ḑ̶̱͓̹̣̗̖̒͑̅́̉͐͑͝O̴̟̪̮̞͙̫̟͍͕̯̫͇̭̹̬̥͗̾̑̃ͅ ̵̢̥͓̟̩̯̦̦͇̥͂̋͒͂̈́͂͆̒́̈́͜͠I̶̜͑̓̏͒̿̿͌̽̔̈́̃T̴̡̛͕̳̙̖́̉ͅ.̸̧̨̘̬̹͔̯̓͗͛̋̀͐̂̃́͋̚͠"̵̦̻̬̤̇ͅ A voice booms .

 “Tommy?!”

 With a gasp, Tommy looks up to see Wilbur crouching in front of him. Hands hovering just above his arms as if he wants to touch him. He doesn’t want to be touched! Not by him.

 “Get away,” Tommy gasps as he pushes himself back and into the corner of the armchair. “No touch. No touch,” he wheezes.

 “Okay!” Wilbur says too quickly, too loud, pulling his hands away too fast. Tommy can’t see where his hands went! Why can’t he see them?! Is Wilbur hiding something?! Tommy flinches when he sees them resting on Wilbur’s knees. The man’s voice softens, “Okay. . . no touch. What can I do to help?”

 With that question Tommy glares. He’s made it clear what he wants and Wilbur isn’t doing it. He’s been doing everything BUT that!

 “Go. . . Away. . .” Tommy huffed.

 Wilbur gives a pinched look.

 “I. . . I can’t. . .”

 “WHY?!” Tommy shouts with tears starting to trail down his cheeks. “Why won’t you go!? GO!” Even Tommy has no idea what he’s blubbering now.

 “I can’t leave you here by yourself. . . Sam's orders.”

 “TECHNO!”

 Wilbur only looks more upset. “Techno’s outside. . .”

 “P-Phil. . .” Tommy whimpers.

 The other man relaxes just a bit. “I’ll go get Phil,” he says with a wobbly smile.

 Tommy was relieved, but only for a second as he glanced back at the mess on the floor. There's a towel over it now. But it doesn’t hide the red seeping into the thing. Tommy flinches as he sees his blood again. His blood soaking into that towel

 “N-no. . .” he says in a near whisper.

 Wilbur heard him, he turned and took his spot crouching in front of Tommy again. “No?” He asks gently. Tommy wants to glare again.

 “No. . .” he says again.

 “How come?” Wilbur asks stupidly before it seems to click and he glances at the mess off to the side. He looks back at Tommy, “He wouldn’t be mad at you for that.”

 “No,” he says with more certainty as his head bows. Besides, Phil’s working. No need to take up Phil’s time for a bratty child who can’t keep his act together. Tommy wraps his arms around himself to try and keep himself from shaking.

 Wilbur seems to think about it for a moment with pursed lips and clouded eyes, before he slowly stands, “I’m going to get Phil.”

 Now that . . . makes Tommy angry . It’s one thing to be an annoying bitch. It’s one thing to be confusing as hell. It is a whole other thing when his demands. His wants. His needs . Are being clearly stated and deliberately ignored. Tommy said no. He means no. And Tommy is going to make that abundantly clear to this fucking asshole who can’t catch a damn hint.

 “I SAID NO!”

 Wilbur freezes and takes a step back as Tommy stands on shaking limbs.

 “NO! NO MEANS NO!” he screams. “LISTEN! LISTEN TO ME!”

 Then they're both silent. Both trying to calm their ragged breaths.

 Wilbur just stares at the boy as if he’s been slapped. Then he takes in a deep breath as his gaze falls to the floor. He looks so lost. He looks so confused. He looks so hurt. And for a moment Tommy feels bad. But then a quick trail down memory lane causes Tommy’s face to harden again. Wilbur deserves this. He deserves to feel this. He deserves to feel Tommy's anger and his own chain of guilt around his neck. He deserves that chain of guilt to drag him down. Down to the bottom of that cold, angry, crazed, misunderstood river.

 “I’m sorry. . .” Wilbur whispers.

 Tommy’s nose wrinkles in disgust as another wave of anger floods through his veins like boiling blood cells. “You are such a bitch, Wilbur Soot ,” he spits. “Your a fucking moron if you think you think you deserve my forgiveness. You don’t deserve any ounce of peace after what you’ve done to me . I fucking hate you, Wilbur. I hate you.”

 After each and every sentence, Wilbur flinched and curled in more and more on himself, until his chest was nearly bent towards his knees. His brown eyes filled with tears as his fingers gripped the sleeves of his sweater so tight his knuckles were white. He looked like Tommy was beating him. Tommy didn’t like the picture so he turned and started limping towards the front door.

 “T-To–!” Wilbur started panicking, taking a step forward.

 Tommy stops him to glare over his shoulder. “I’m going to Techno.”

 Then Tommy was in the foyer, slipping on his shoes, wincing as the soles forced his feet to lay flat. Then he stood, opened the door and slammed it shut behind him.

 The air is now a wall of warm and humid, causing Tommy to wish he hadn’t worn a long sleeve shirt in this dry weather. Well, too late to go back inside now.

 “Prime! He’s such a prick,” Tommy cussed under his breath as he started hobbling down the long steps of the porch. As he gripped the wood lip of the half wall separating the planters from the walkway, Tommy hoped he wouldn’t get any splinters by the end of this.

 After a step or two, Tommy glanced up to look over the planters for a familiar head of pink hair. He was disappointed at the sight of none. Only a bush of pink roses, a bushel of pink cosmos and a bouquet of pink camellias poking out here and there. A blue morpho Menelaus butterfly was resting on one of its soft round petals before taking off and settling on a white chrysanthemum.

 Prime. Techno’s made him such a flower nerd.

 With a fond huff, Tommy continued limping down the porch as he prayed he’d find Techno before he fell on his ass or something.

 At the bottom of the steps, Tommy turned to the left onto the driveway to head over towards the greenhouse and planters Techno has on the side of the house. Tommy passes Phil’s Subaru, Techno’s truck and Wilbur’s car. He’d kick the damn thing if his feet weren’t in so much pain. Instead, he just glared at it as he hobbled onto the grassy yard while walking side by side with the large elevated porch.

 This whole house was comically big, but this porch was just ridiculous. It was straight out of a movie, it was wide and roomy, covered from the elements by the second floor of the house. Glamorous couches and seats everywhere, more blankets and pillows and a whole ass firepit covered in marble in the middle of it all. The whole place was extra. Tommy’s shocked there's not a chandelier to finish it off.

 “What the hell are you doing up?”

 Tommy jumped and whipped his head forward to see Techno looking down at him with an unimpressed look.

 “Oh hey Techno!” Tommy greeted with a wide smile. “Your brother was being a bitch so I came to find you!” The boy paused at Techno's blank stare. Smile falling, he asked, “You don’t mind, right?”

 Techno’s face immediately softened. “No, I don’t mind. Just- c’mere.” He opened his arms and took a step forward as he kneeled just a bit.

 Glaring, Tommy sighed and reluctantly lifted his arms just a bit to let Techno pick him up by the armpits. As he carried Tommy like a small child, the boy just slumped against the elder's shoulder. He fucking hates this, but he’s so tired from all that walking.

 Techno seems surprised for a moment as he tenses before relaxing and continuing. “Now. . .” Techno started. “How was my brother being a ‘bitch’ as you so called it?”

 Tommy huffed. “He was being a bitch,” he grumbled into Techno's shoulder.

 “Yes, I caught that. Now elaborate,” Techno explained with a light, airy laugh.

 When Tommy looked up from Techno's shoulder, they were just making it to Techno’s big long planters that stretched across the yard. Filled with more flowers, herbs, vegetables and fruits. Techno made every single planter himself. Cut the wood too.

 “He was being confusing,” he grumbled.

 “How was he being confusing, kid?” Techno asked genuinely as he set Tommy down on a cushioned bench off to the side. Again, made by Techno. Phil sewed the cushion though.

 “H-he’s just- He’s being fucking nice!” Tommy exclaimed as his arms stretched out dramatically. “I don’t get it! One moment he was calling me a bitch and being an overall jerk! Now he just looks like a fucking kicked puppy-” Techno snorted. “-as he’s trying to be nice to me!” Tommy looks over at Techno who’s sitting just across from him on the side of his planter. “I don’t get it.”

 Clearing his throat, Techno grabbed the gardening gloves sitting just outside the planter as he started putting them back on. “It’s alright to be confused. I would be too if I were in your position.”

 “Yeah. . . I knew you were gonna say that.”

 Techno laughed, “Is that a bad thing?”

 “No. . .” Tommy sighed with a smile. “I just. . .” His smile fell. “What does he want? I don’t know why he’s doing this.”

 Watching as Techno stands and begins looking through the petals of one of his flowers, Tommy pulls at the edge of his shirt.

 “Wilbur wants a second chance,” Techno explained.

 Tommy snorted, “Like I’d ever give him that.”

 “I don’t expect you to,” Techno says as he looks up from his plants. “I’d like you to, but then again, as much as he wants a second chance with you , I’m talking about someone else. Someone he wronged a long time ago.”

 Snorting, Tommy asked, “Who else's life did he screw up?”

 Techno shot him an unimpressed look.

 “Sorry.”

 He shrugged with a very faint smile tugging at his lips. “I can’t give any names, it’s Wilbur’s story to share. He made a mistake a long long time ago that only just recently came to kick his teeth in. We all thought he’d do better this time, but instincts seemed to kick in.”

 “Instincts?”

 “Wilbur has a knack for doing the same thing over and over again despite the consequences,” Techno elaborated. “He did it to me, you, one other and I wouldn’t be surprised if he did it to others in passing.”

 “Does this have to do with whoever this Sorley person is?” Tommy asked suddenly.

 The air went quiet for a moment and Tommy watched as Techno stopped to glare down at the soil in front of him.

 “Not my story to share, Tommy,” he huffed out sternly with a hint of finality in his voice. Tommy decided it wasn’t worth pushing and went back to fiddling with his fingers.

 When he looked up again, Techno was pulling a weed from the side of a blossoming petunia. With a gloved hand, Techno gripped the side of the dandelion as he delicately pushed the petunia to the side with the other hand, before he ripped the weed from the ground. Once he threw it aside, Techno picked up a pair of pruning shears and started cutting a few purple snapdragons an inch from their base.

 What caught Tommy’s attention was just behind the snapdragons. In full blossom was a batch of crisp white edelweiss flowers stretched up towards the sun.

 Tommy didn’t hesitate to stand and race over towards the edge of the planter. Techno didn’t pause either from trying to pick him back up again.

 “What are you-?”

 “I didn’t know you had edelweiss’,” Tommy cut off as he leaned forwards to try and get a better look at the rough looking flower.

 Techno blinked. “Yes. I’ve only just started growing them but yeah. I do.”

 Tommy just stared at the pretty things. Letting his thoughts roll over in his head as the flowers practically glowed in the afternoon sun. It was a minute. Then two. Before he whispered, “Those were my mother's favorite flowers. . .”

 After another beat, Techno hummed in response before he rumbled, “I can understand why. They're pretty.”

 The boy scoffed. “Oh yeaaah, she was most definitely the type of person to judge something based on its looks,” Tommy exclaimed grumpily. Though Techno seemed a bit caught off guard by the sudden bitterness.

 “Well. . . they have a nice representation as well.”

 “Yeah. And what’s that?” Tommy falsely encouraged bitterly.

 “Since they naturally grow up the mountains, they are known for representing rugged individualism,” Techno started saying as he picked up the flowers he dropped to place them in a white wicker basket. “Though the more common symbolism is based on its color. White. A perfect representation of purity and innocence.”

 Grumbling, Tommy growled, “My mother was anything but pure and innocent.”

 Techno was quiet for a moment. He looked at Tommy like he wanted to ask or say something. Smartly, he looked away. But he did end up offering, “You wanna talk about it?”

 Pausing, Tommy didn’t tear his eyes away from those white flowers as he asked himself, did he? Did he want to talk about it?

 Tommy thought about all Techno's done for him. He’s always been there. When Wilbur was an absolute asshat, to the aftermath of that man's own hurricane of a storm. The man saved his life for crying out loud! But then again, Techno hasn’t told him anything about himself. Tommy doesn’t know why Techno got called a “weapon” or a “tool.” Why should Tommy tell him anything about himself?

 “No, I’m fine,” Tommy settled on.

 Techno hummed, “If you're sure.” It didn’t sound insulting. It didn’t sound like he didn’t trust Tommy’s own judgment. It sounded like genuine reassurance. An offer. An offer that if you're sure, I will still be here.

 They settled into gentle silence and let the breeze blow past like gentle whispering secrets. A mother holding her son as she whispers stories into his ear. Eventually, Techno convinced Tommy to sit down again as he continued cutting flowers from its stems. Together, they let the world turn in peace with occasional idle conversation here and there.

 It was only when the sun started slowly setting that they both headed inside to the sight of a panicking Phil. After calming the old man down, they sat down for dinner and ate. Tommy learned that Phil wasn’t at all concerned about the rug. While he was a bit irked by that, he let it go as dinner was being passed around. By the end of the meal, one seat was left untouched.

 That night Tommy laid in bed staring up at the ceiling as the day's events flickered past his eyes. He was still clueless on what to do. What this family had planned. Phil was so oblivious to the obvious failures on Tommy’s part. Techno’s still so careless around Tommy as if he isn’t a walking bomb about to explode. And Wilbur is just a walking contradiction! And all of this is leading to a very confused Tommy. And a confused Tommy leads to a reckless Tommy.

 The bomb’s timer is about to go off.

~~{o0o}~~

:D :) XD

Chapter Text

The Act of Fear

 Dragging a towel across a damp plate was what Tommy was doing before it all went down hill. Before it all came crashing down. Before the tree came crumbling to the floor. Before the bomb went off, Tommy was helping Phil do the dishes.

 Just a few days ago his feet were finally considered healed and Techno was no longer lingering over his shoulder like some stalker. Now Tommy could do whatever he damn well pleased. Well- that is- after he finished helping with whatever Phil needed.

 Phil’s been doing this a lot lately. Pulling Tommy into doing random chores or even just small, calming activities with him. Doing puzzles, wiping down the windows, laundry, knitting and even sweeping the kitchen that one time. That one time led to a whole war as they battled with broom sticks. That was fun. Tommy likes that memory very much. They had to stop after Phil started choking on his own near silent laughs.

 Today’s “Phil activity” was the dishes. Phil would hand wash some bigger or more fragile cutlery that couldn’t be forced into the vibrating monster dishwashing eater. Those things were known for breaking a poor cup or two. And while most of the time their little activities will go well and become great memories Tommy will forever hold close to his heart, there are a few moments in which Tommy would like to forget. To bury deep in the back of his head due to something going wrong. Emotions seem to be the culprit.

 Some days Tommy can have a blast. He can laugh, he can dance, he can mess around. But there are other days where it all becomes too much. Too confusing. Those days lead to broken things, feeling and falling tears. Every time Tommy feels infinitely more guilty, especially since Phil always forgives him. Even if Tommy doesn’t deserve it. Tommy never deserves it.

 Even so, today seems to be one of those hard days. He can feel the anxiety vibrating under his skin, ready to burst at any given moment. His hands were trembling a bit more than normal and Phil pointed it out here and there, asking Tommy if he needed a break. Tommy said no every time. He’s flinching too. Which isn’t abnormal, but he’s gotten better around Phil. Tommy’s sure today will not be a good example of that.

 Putting the plate up into the tall cupboard beside him, Tommy reached over to grab the next item Phil wanted him to dry.

 He’s been bracing himself for Phil to get impatient with him. He’s been ridiculously slow with some tasks just to see if Phil will give a reaction. So far he hasn’t, but Tommy’s sure he’s caught on to what Tommy’s trying to do since every time Tommy gets snippy Phil just smiles. Just like he always does.

 “Careful with this one mate,” Phil says idly as he hands Tommy a beautiful tall glass cup. It was clear near the top but faded from a cloudy white to a royal purple. Throughout the clear purple color were darker swirls and gentle sparkles with decorative glass feathers made into the glass. The most important thing though, was the date and message engraved into the bottom of the cup. A small red heart was stamped into the glass at the end of the message.

3-12-1985

Forever Mine - Dove

 Tommy paused. There’s no way this cup doesn’t mean something. There’s no way Phil just keeps this random cup with some random date. This has to mean something. And Phil must be attached to it. He even told Tommy to be careful with it. He hadn’t done that for any of the other glass and fragile items.

 This cup means something to Phil.

 Phil would be hurt if this broke.

 . . .

 Phil would be angry if Tommy broke this.

 Glancing up, Tommy stared at the side of Phil's head as the man scrubbed at a near matching cup to the one he was holding but black and green instead of white and purple.

3-12-1985

Forever Yours - Crow

 It's a set. Same red heart at the end of the message.

 Tommy’s grip slacks just a bit causing the cup to slip from his fingers by a whole inch . But he hesitates. If he goes through with this. He will be sent away. If Tommy drops this cup, there is no going back. He will be picked up by Sam the next morning.

 Something red and gold falls from Phil’s green T-shirt. A red heart on a gold chain. The same one from the cups.

 Tommy’s going to hell for this.

 Another inch slips from his fingers. It’s then that Phil turns off the tap water and turns to hand Tommy the other cup. He freezes. They both do. While Phil stares at the cup, mere-centimeters from falling from Tommy’s fingertips and crashing onto the hard tile floor, Tommy stares straight into Phil’s eyes.

 “Tommy. . .” Phil whispers near silently.

 Half an inch slips. Phil gasps. Tommy was correct.

 “T-Tommy. I- I know what you want.” Phil swallows. “I know what you want and you aren’t gonna get it f-from that.” Phil bites at his lip and slowly starts reaching out to grab the cup. That was the wrong move.

 Tommy breathes in.

 Breathes out.

 Tommy drops the cup.

 Whoosh-

 . . .

 CRASSSSSH. . .! . . .! . . .!

 They both freeze. They both tense. While Tommy doesn’t look away from Phil, Phil just stares at the shattered glass at Tommy’s feet. The matching cup held so tightly to his chest Tommy’s worried it’ll break along with its partner.

 It’s then that Tommy watches with horror as tears flood Phil’s eyes. Sparkling tears come pooling at the edges of his lids glossing his eyes as one of his hands comes to cover his wobbling lips.

 Then, just like Tommy knew it would, Phil’s brows wrinkle and his eyes become dark as he takes a deep- deep shuddering breath.

 “Get. Out,” Phil breathes out.

 Tommy blinks.

 “Wh-”

 “Go to your room. Thomas.”

 Taking a hesitant step back, Tommy realized this was gonna hurt a lot more than he thought it would.

 “Go.” Phil snarls.

 Gasping, Tommy turns heel and rushes from the kitchen and bolts up the stairs. Right at the top of the platform, Techno and Wilbur are emerging from one of the doors in the left hall.

 “Tommy?” Techno asks worriedly. “What happened? Why are you crying?”

 He was crying? Reaching up, Tommy felt tears rolling down his cheeks. Oh. . .

 “I fucked up. . .” Tommy whispered.

 Wilbur takes a slow step forward, “What did-”

 A sob comes ringing from downstairs.

 All of their eyes widened but Techno was the first to move. With long strides, he stepped around Tommy to start rushing down the stairs. If it weren’t for Wilbur, Techno wouldn’t have paused.

 “Techno-”

 “Take care of Tommy, Wil.” He turned to make eye contact with his brother. “Don’t screw this up.” Then he was rushing down the stairs again and disappearing into the kitchen.

 Tommy’s not sure what “taking care of him” means but after what he’s done, he’s willing to take whatever is thrown at him.

 “C’mon Tommy,” Wilbur says gently as he starts leading them down the right hallway stopping in front of Wilbur’s room. For a second, Tommy thinks they’ll be going in but after Wilbur gives him a quiet, “Say here,” Tommy lets himself stay put.

 As Wilbur disappears behind a dark cracked open door, Tommy stares down at the carpeted floor like nothing else exists. Like nothing else matters. In a way, it’s true. If Phil’s reaction to that cup breaking was as real as it seemed, as it felt? Tommy will be sent away. He will lose all of this. The comfy bedroom, the nice expensive clothes. The warm, delicious meals three times a day everyday. The laughs. The jokes. The forest. The f-flowers. He’ll. . . Tommy will. . . He’ll lose Techno’s long ass explanations and rants about Greek myths and stories, flowers and their favorite video game. He’ll lose Tubbo’s loud cackles and laughs, Purpled's evil quips and jabs, Ranboo’s cringy jokes and kindness, Niki’s smile. . . Phil’s hugs. . . Wilbur’s music. As much as he hates the man, he’s got a beautiful voice and a brilliant skill on the guitar. Tommy of all people will never discredit those who make good music, no matter the musician.

 Tommy didn’t even realize he was choking on his own sobs until arms gently wrapped around him. Almost instantly, a smell of strong vanilla and a hint of burning wood, an open fire, filled his nose. It was almost like the vanilla was there to cover up the smell of spoke. But despite that, it smelt good. It was gentle and soft but present and very real like the arms holding him and the soft knit of a sweater rubbing against his arms.

 “I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” Tommy sobbed into the person's chest. Deep down Tommy knew who it was. Who was holding him. He knew who it was but despite that, his own arms came to wrap around the other man’s back, he couldn’t bring himself to admit it. Fingers fisting and squeezing the fabric of his sweater as if he was going to disappear right in his arms. Or that Tommy was going to be pushed away. He doesn’t want to be pushed away! Not anymore! Please!

 “Please! I’m sorry! I shouldn’t have done it! I shouldn’t have done it! I’m sorry!” He just kept sobbing and sobbing until he started swaying. Gently, side to side. They were swaying. Or- Wilbur was swaying them .

 With soft movements, he leaned them to lean left, then right, then left, then right before he began to hum. Just hum. It didn’t sound like anything specific. Just simple notes spilling from the back of his throat echoing through the halls. It was quiet and soft and it soothed his panicking breaths and quieted his loud desperate wails. And he just kept humming.

 “Why. . ?”

 Wilbur’s humming stuttered to a stop as he instead made a questioning noise in the back of his throat.

 “Why are you being so kind?” Tommy asks angrily as his grip tightens on Wilbur’s sweater again. “Why are you being nice?!” he howls into the man's chest.

 Wilbur just stays quiet for a moment as he keeps swaying them from side to side. Suddenly, he starts rubbing a hand up and down Tommy’s back. “Because. . .” he starts in a whisper. “Because I messed up.”
 “W-What. . ?

 “I messed up Tommy,” Wilbur says again but more sure. “I hurt you and I want to do better now.”

 That’s when Tommy lets go of Wilbur’s sweater to bring his arms back and slam them down on Wilbur's chest as he screams, “WHY?!” Tommy sucks in a breath. “Why do you do this?! No one has ever done this for me! Changing?! Changing for me?! Me?! MY OWN PARENTS COULDN’T CHANGE FOR ME!! HOW THE HELL CAN YOU?!”

 Throughout all his screaming, Tommy’s been mercilessly pounding on Wilbur’s chest with his fists like a child having a tantrum. And throughout his screams and hits, Wilbur’s just held him so gently and carefully as he sways them side to side.

 “How can someone I’ve only just met. . . be so kind to me? Change for me? Admit that they messed up.” Tommy’s hits have turned into gentle taps. His lax fist thumping weakly against Wilbur’s collarbones and ribs as he tries to calm his ragged tear filled breaths, his forehead leaning on Wilbur’s sternum. “No ones ever done that for me. . . Not ever. . .”

 Before Tommy could go on or work himself into a deeper panic, Wilbur said something in a whisper so quiet, Tommy wasn’t ever sure he heard it at first. “. . . Let me be that first person.”

 Tommy wasn’t sure what to say to that, but it seems he didn’t have to say anything since Wilbur suddenly pulled away to grab something leaning on the doorway behind them. A pale wood guitar.

 “C’mon,” Wilbur spoke quietly as he started pulling them both further down the hall. Tommy didn’t fight once. He let Wilbur lead him past the guest room, the laundry room, half bath, and Phil’s office. Then they passed that one door Tommy thinks belongs to a second guest room before Wilbur suddenly pulls Tommy into the music room.

 This room already looked beautiful from the crack of the door, bright lights and colorful paintings and instruments hanging from the walls. It was a whole other sight, experience and dream to be in the middle of it all. Guitars simply everywhere, keyboards of all different shapes, sizes and colors all across the wall, microphones standing tall on the small elevated floor cutting the room nearly in half. And above all else. The shiny, black grand piano stood proud in the center of that stage. Tommy could practically feel the nerves in his fingers itching and twitching to stretch across those pearly white keys.

 After a moment of Tommy just staring wide eyed like a small child in a candy store, Wilbur started to slowly close the door behind him before he asked, “Do you want the door open?”

 Tommy just shook his head.

 The door quietly clicked shut as Wilbur walked past Tommy to pull a black chair from out of a corner of the room to take a seat. From there, he started tuning his guitar, string by string by ear.

 “You’re welcome to sit anywhere,” Wilbur spoke quietly, almost absentmindedly as he plucked the G string of the guitar.

 Promptly, Tommy plopped himself down on the floor right where he was standing. Wilbur gave him a funny look as he started stroking his tuned guitar, plucking a few of the shiny strings as his fingers danced lazily over the frets.

 “You. . . can grab a chair,” Wilbur gestured to the stack of chairs in the far right corner just in front of the elevated floor.

 Immediately, Tommy’s eyes went from the chairs to the piano just a few feet away. Shaking his head, Tommy just curled his knees towards his chest, ignoring the ways his heart thumped deep within his ribcage with a longing to just touch the instrument. His body, like a stubborn magnet, trying to fight the desperate pull of positive and negative forces.

 Gah! He needed a distraction.

 “Can. . .” Tommy started quietly, immediately Wilbur’s head snapped up to look in Tommy’s direction. He swallowed, “Can you play something?”

 It took Wilbur a moment to respond. “Y-yeah, sure.”

 Like a rocking boat, the guitar's tune began to sway up and down and up and down and- as Wilbur’s fingers began to waltz. Up and down and up and down and up and up and up and down and up and down and. But he never sang. Even when the guitar seemed to repeat itself for far too long or paused just the right time for words to begin to spill, they never did. Wilbur never sang.

 Why? Tommy will never know. What he does know is it’s getting incredibly, increasingly difficult to ignore that piano.

 It looks like the one Mama would perform on. Every once and awhile, once every few months, Mama would get all “dolled up”, dark makeup and elegant risqué dress in all before they all, as a family, headed to this fancy bar where Mama would do nothing by play. Let her fingers glide across the keys of a shiny grand piano for all the drunk men to gaze up at as their wives turned red with jealousy.

 His mother was truly gorgeous. Her blond hair and dyed dark tips, curled in natural ringlets. Her skin, perfectly pale, faded freckles placed perfectly along her cheeks, chin and nose. Tommy hated how her makeup covered those freckles. She was never “Mama” without her freckles. And even without all that makeup, her crystal blue eyes shined . She glowed. Father always said he preferred Mama without “all that shitty stuff.” Tommy thinks his mother agreed. When she wore makeup, she was no longer “Mama” but “mother.” But that’s not what those drooling men gazing up at her want. It’s never what the dumb men at the stupid fucking bar want. Tommy hopes that stupid, stupid fucking bar burns. Because maybe if that bar burned, he would still have his parents.

 Suddenly, Tommy realized the music stopped.

 “You can go play it if you want,” Wilbur offered as he glanced up at the piano himself. “I nor my family play so it's desperate for a pianist.”

 “I-I’m. . . not a pianist,” Tommy muttered as he stood on shaky legs to begin stalking towards the piano.

 Wilbur shrugged, “You could be if you wanted.”

 That’s the thing, I don’t know if I want to be.

 Stepping onto elevated ground, Tommy slid around the side of the piano to take a seat at the leather stool placed perfectly in front of the keys. With a ghostly smile, Tommy watched dreamily as his hands fluttered just above the keys. When they fell, his shoulders collapsed with them as all anxieties melted away. This is why he loves the piano. He can already feel his mothers hands holding his as she leads him to play.

 And with a deep breath, Tommy’ finally, after so many years, Tommy play’s his mothers song. The song that Tommy’s heard since the day he was born, the song he spent days begging his mother to just teach him please! Hours, days, months of playing to perfect it. He doesn’t know how to play any other song. Just this one. Just Edelweiss. His mothers favorite flower from her favorite song, from her favorite movie. The Sound of Music.

 The one movie he loves, but can’t bear to watch. Because of her.

 His fingers begin to waltz similarly but not exactly to Wilbur’s from earlier. They were shaking and stiff instead of loose with confidence. Tommy hasn’t felt confident playing in nearly six years.

 Moving on from the introduction, Tommy begins playing the first verse. The lyrics float in his head like an old record.

“Edelweiss, Edelweiss.”

“Every morning you greet me.”

“Small and White, clean and bright.”

“You look happy to meet me.”

 Gracefully, his fingers dance up the keys dramatically, almost showoff-y. But it’s how his mother played it, so that’s how Tommy will. His Mama could play so well. So stupid well that Tommy wished he had the appreciation for when he was younger. But he grew up this way. Watching his mother play. It wasn’t till a year after he was abandoned that he understood his mothers natural gift. And Tommy hoped- no prays . She still has this gift. Otherwise, he wouldn’t know what to do.

“Blossom of snow may you bloom and grow.”

“Bloom and grow forever.”

 The playing pauses just for a moment as little twinkles of the high keys are pressed. Little stars plucked from the night skies in order to gift this moment of music the blessing it needs. Borrowed from Prime herself to make this moment special.

“Edelweiss, Edelweiss.

“Bless my homeland forever.”

 As Tommy goes into the first bridge, he realizes as his fingers shake across the keys of his dreams that he’s holding back tears. Crystalline tears are dripping down his face as he tries desperately to hold back sobs. He’s sure his face looks absolutely hideous with his cheeks and nose hot and red and wrinkled as he bites on his lip while his breathing stutters and his nose sniffles.

 He feels so alone playing this song. His mother isn’t here to help guide him, his father isn’t there working in the background, tapping keys are not a sound familiar to his ears anymore. But just as he’s starting to go into the next verse, a guitar is joining him. Slowly, the guitar plucks the occasional note to complement his piano rather than override it.

 Then Wilbur is humming. Not loud. Just quiet, nearly faint, humming. Again, not to override his piano, but to complement. And it pairs well.

“Edelweiss,” his piano plays.

(Edelweiss,) Wilbur’s guitar echoes.

“Edelweiss,”

Just as Tommy starts playing the next verse, Wilbur will echo with his guitar.

(Edelweiss.)

Then they play together.

“Every morning you greet me.”

Before they separate again.

“Small and bright.”

(Small and bright.)

“Clean and bright.”

(Clean and bright.)

And come back around.

“ You look happy to meet me.”

 Before the song can continue, Tommy stops to slam his fist down on the keys of the piano causing an ugly sound to erupt from the keys. Still he’s trying to hold back these damned sobs as he sniffles and chokes because this is all too much. He’s remembering too much. And he can’t bear it anymore.

 “Why did they leave me?!” Tommy wailed as tears dripped onto the keys of the piano. “Why did they have to leave me?!” Sucking in a breath, Tommy shudders. “Everyone just fucking leaves me!”

 There was a pause of silence as Tommy’s cries filled the room before he went on. “My mother is such a fucking slut! If that damn! Stupid ass bar! Didn’t FUCKING exist! She would still be here! My dad would still be here! THEY WOULDN”T HAVE LEFT MY AT THAT STUPID DAMN FUCKING COURT ROOM!!!”

 The room became eerily silent. Even with Tommy’s echoing sobs to fill the room, the air was dead still. Then it was filled with Wilbur’s voice. A quiet voice. A shaky voice. No longer confident but fearful.

 “They left me as well. . .”

 Tommy’s head shoots up to stare at Wilbur. The man’s guitar is placed next to him on the floor as he leans forward in his chair to stare at the ground. His eyes are glossy and distant as his hand cups his chin. Then he looks up at Tommy with something sorrowful in his gaze. “My parents. . .” he clarifies. “It started when I was six. When I was six. . . I learned I would be a brother,” Wilbur started as his fingers laced together like fabric. “I would be a big brother. And I was absolutely ecstatic. I waited nine long months, I turned seven and three months later my baby brother was born and everything was perfect.”

 Perfection. What a skewed perception. Tommy’s been there. That time where everything is perfect. Everything is fine. More than fine. You’re on the highest peak of a mountain top and nothing can knock you down. Tommy wishes he could’ve stayed there. Stayed on top of that cliff. Oblivious to the fall.

 “Then my mother was diagnosed with postpartum depression and everything just went downhill from there.” Wilbur laughed airily but it was forced and fake and the smile he wore told Tommy everything. “My mother constantly failed to take care of my brother and I. Left us for my dad to deal with. Soon, my dad followed the route of lack of parenting. Leaving me to care for my baby brother. So many burned meals.” Wilbur pauses as Tommy notices his eyes almost fading. . . the pupils get small and his eyes are staring at nothing in particular as his fingers go lax. He’s dissociated. At least a little bit. Then he said, “My mother killed herself when I was eleven.”

 Tommy blinked. Wilbur started crying.

 “I won’t say much more. . . But I messed up, Tommy. My Dad and I. My brother suffered because of me.” Wilbur sniffled as he lightly wiped his nose with his sleeve. “I called him worthless. I blamed him for our mothers death and so much more.” The man paused to take a breath, seeming to stop his tears as the faucet slowed. “We got separated in the system. My Dad was accused of child abuse and he didn’t even try to fight for us. Called me worthless, called my brother a murder as he was taken away in cuffs. He pleaded guilty with a smile on his face.”

 A shiver goes down Tommy’s spine. He couldn’t even imagine his own father doing that. Tommy’s father just did a silent fuck you and left Tommy for the social workers. He didn’t run Tommy over with a sadistic smile.

 Then Wilbur looked up. He stared straight into Tommy’s soul as he said, “I prayed I would one day see my brother again and apologize for what I did to him. I waited nine long years. But only a year ago did I find out my brother killed himself.”

 Tommy froze. Wilbur looked so close to bursting into more tears, but he kept himself strong as he went on to say, “This is why I need to do better Tommy. This is why I need to do better for you.”

 They both stayed silent as Wilbur paused to take a breath.

 “I realized I can do better. . . Not only for you. But for my brother. Because Tommy.” Wilbur laughed as he smiled so real, so kindly towards Tommy it sent warmth and loving heat through his heart like magma. “You remind me so much of him. You're so kind, you're so smart and witty, you're roaringly funny, you bring light to the world even while the world itself tries to stomp the fire out of you. Even I tried. But Tommy.” Wilbur’s smile falls but doesn’t disappear as he says, “And if you don’t want me to change for you? Let me change for my brother. Let me do better for Sorley.”

~~{o0o}~~

:D :) XD

Chapter Text

Forgiveness, Can You Imagine?

 The rest of the day, evening, and night was emotional. By the time the sun was setting earlier that night, both Wilbur and Tommy’s tears were just beginning to dry as both of them sat across from each other in the music room. Tommy by the piano, Wilbur with his guitar beside him.

 When Wilbur finished his story, request?, he apologized. He’d given Tommy the apology he’d been waiting for. Why? Wilbur told him why, but it still didn’t add up in Tommy’s head. Wilbur had finally given it up after nearly a month of waiting for it and now it was here and Tommy didn’t know what to do with it.

 Often, in his head, Tommy would imagine Wilbur finally apologizing. Begging for forgiveness at Tommy’s feet. He imagined flipping the man off, telling him to go fuck himself as he walked away. It all sounded so pleasing and relieving in his head. Now it didn’t feel right. It didn’t feel right to flip Wilbur the bird after he had opened his heart out to the boy. After he had given Tommy the explanation he deserved. The chance to say no. And he still apologies. And now it was Tommy’s turn to respond. The boy didn’t know what to say. Still doesn’t but he had settled with a simple, “I don’t forgive you.” It was basic but to the point. He elaborated with, “I don’t know if I can ever forgive you. But at least I understand now and I’ll tolerate you- I guess. . .”

 Now thinking about it causes Tommy to huff a lonely laugh. It was a pretty pathetic response. But what else was he supposed to say?! Man’s just spews his whole life story to some teen he hated just a few weeks ago.

 Though, Tommy will admit, it helped. Wilbur’s story pulled all the pressure off Tommy and he can’t help but be thankful. Even if reluctantly. Even if his brain could never forget what the man did to him. Said to him. It would take so long to forget something like that and Tommy doesn’t believe he ever could in this single short life. But Wilbur had understood that. Wilbur had responded with a nod explaining that he was never expecting forgiveness, though he’d like to earn it one day. Even if that day takes a thousand years before it happens.

 Perhaps in the afterlife things will be different. He’ll have had enough time to forgive and possibly even forget. Because everyone knows that in the house of their Lady, things are different. Things become easy. It’s easy to let go.

 And now, Tommy understands why Sam told Phil that their past were so similar. Why they were both alike. Selfish moms. Absent fathers. Parents they still love but could never forgive. And a chain of guilt around their necks. Never to be broken. Never to be forgotten. Always there to pull you away from the one thing you want most. To remind them they can’t have it. Love. To be loved. Loved unconditionally. A family. And Tommy doesn’t hate it as much as he thought he would. Being like Wilbur. Not anymore at least. He feels a little less lonely.

 So it was emotional. That was the only way Tommy could describe that night. No other word, sentence, phrase or elaboration could explain the amount of tears shed, the amount of opened hearts, and broken hearts. Healed souls. It was anything but subtle.

 In the dark of the guest room, Tommy huddled the soft airy blankets around himself as he drowned in his own thoughts. It truly felt like he was sunk deep into a yawning green lake. The only sound was silence as he sunk deeper and deeper into the calming waters. It wasn’t scary. He wasn’t frantic to escape. Just- sinking. Just living in his own head. There were a lot of things to swallow but not enough time to do so since. . . since. . . Tommy didn’t wanna think about tomorrow. At least he’ll see Sam again.

 Tommy doesn’t know how long it’ll take. He doesn’t know what it’ll take to forgive Wilbur. But it’ll be a lot. A lot of time. But what Tommy does know is it'll take around a hundred years before he falls asleep.

 With that daunting mission ahead of him, Tommy begins the laborious task with a familiar step forward. Grabbing his phone, headphones, plugged in and ready as he begins to listen to his favorite playlist. His music.

 He doesn’t forgive Wilbur. Tommy doesn’t think he ever will. But he’ll give him a second chance. He’ll let Wilbur do better. If not for Tommy, for Sorley.

 Tommy’s phone has long since died and is being charged on the bedside table as he desperately tries to tire out his eyes. Waiting for them to become heavy as he’s left to the suffocating void of the guest room. It’s so quiet, it's loud. White noise buzzes in his ears as he begs his brain to just let him fall asleep. Normally, he’d just get up to bother Techno. But last he saw the man, he was helping his father. You know, the man Tommy had deeply upset. He wasn’t about to push his luck and bother him right now.

 With that thought, Tommy’s resigned to his fate of another miserable night with many more to come as tears slide down his cheeks. Because he doesn’t know what Techno thinks about him now. For all Tommy knows, the man hates him.

 A long while later, or maybe it was just a few minutes, a strumming guitar breaks through the wall of white noise and sniffling cries. Tommy already knows it's Wilbur. He hears Wilbur play his guitar right outside of Tommy’s window. For a moment, Tommy’s confused as he turns to lay on his back and glance up at the window. Only then does he remember that this and Wilbur’s window both lead to the roof. Wilbur must be testing fate then.

 He can imagine the lanky man sitting with crossed legs on the slightly slanted roof with one of his guitars in his lap. For the sake of memory, he imagines it as the pale yellow one. The one he played his mother’s song with.

 In his head he can imagine the man’s fingers sliding from fret to fret, jumping from string to string with his head is tilted back to the sky as he strums and plucks those strings. The image of the silvery stars reflected in his dark chocolate eyes as he plays for the gods and their unborn children is so clear in his head Tommy believes it’s real.

 Tommy listens carefully as his tears, now dry, stick itchily to his face. Rubbing the blanket against his eyes, he prays Wilbur continues. He prays he can remember these songs by heart so that in a year's time, when he’s long gone and with some other strange family, he can play them in his heart. To remember what could have been.

 Wilbur plays for the rest of the night as Tommy is lulled asleep to beautiful lyrics being sung to the stars above. To Primes creations and to the gods themselves. Tommy hopes they enjoy it as much as he does.

“Someday we’ll find it.”

“The Rainbow Connection.”

“The Lovers, The Dreamers, And Me.”

~~{o0o}~~

 Well into the afternoon, the sun is shining brightly, pounding on anything and everything in its sight with its overpowered curse of heat. As Phil’s expensive air conditioning blows rather loudly to combat it, the vents rumble and creak while Tommy curls up in the middle of the bed, all the sheets kick off the side of the bed in a desperate attempt to cool himself down.

 Look- as much as he loves how soft and comforting those covers were, he’s not risking a heat stroke just to feel secure because Prime knows his anxiety is skyrocketing. Especially after overheating only ten minutes ago under all those layers.

 By the scent of teen boy wafting through the room, Tommy can tell he’s been in here for far too long. But he’ll be the last to admit that anything is wrong. Because why would anything be wrong?! Nothings wrong! It’s just- the house has been awfully quiet. There’s no arguing adults whispering about what to do with the hermit hiding- nope! Sleeping. Sleeping upstairs. He’s just sleeping in at three o'clock in the afternoon.- sleeping upstairs.

 And Phil hasn’t come pounding across the house to tell Tommy to pack his bag. The man hasn’t even yelled at him fully yet. Tommy hasn’t even seen Phil since yesterday! To any outsider, everything seems fine! Normal even! But this is not normal for the Watson house. Nope! The Watson’s are never quiet. While they may not fight like parents on the brink of a divorce, they do certainly shout at each other. But today, not a single shout is to be heard. No arguing about what's for breakfast or lunch, no fights about who gets to sit where on the couch. No thumps and bumps as Techno and Wilbur fight for the controller.

 But everything's fine! There's nothing going wrong per say! And Tommy is definitely not hiding up in the guest bedroom, staring at the closed door as if something or someone was going to come busting in.

 Well- maybe that’s not something to worry about after all. Especially considering Tubbo. And Drista. Hell- Maybe even Purpled. They would be such a saint to be around right now. Have them come busting through that very door. Distract him from the fact he was moments away from being sent away again. Sent to some random, strange house with confusing parents, mean siblings and all their terrifying expectations. Expected to live with strangers as if they’re family. Even if they’ll never be family. And Tommy has failed to remind himself of that fact yet again. He will never learn.

 Tommy nearly jumps from his skin at the sound of Wilbur’s door popping open. He can hear Wilbur creep out quietly before his footsteps fade out while he walks down the hall. Leaning across his bed, Tommy listens as the man doesn’t walk down stairs and instead opens another door from down the hall before it closes behind him.

 Knowing absolutely nothing about Wilbur personality-wise, Tommy has not a clue which room the man has gone into, but he’s gonna guess Techno’s.  The brothers do seem close, and it’s known times of stress bring some people together. Just not Tommy’s people.

 Look- Tommy’s running on nearly one hour of sleep, he’s kinda delirious with stress at the moment and the heat is getting to him . Tommy’s never seen his hands shake this much in his life! Well- except for that time in house number eight when-

 Knock, knock, knock.

 Tommy freezes. His body goes stiff as his hands continue to tremor and vibrate. His legs go numb from underneath him as his arms stick firmly to his chest.

 Knock, knock, knock.

 Shit! Has Tommy taken too long to respond?! Is he gonna be in more trouble now?! He should just respond now and pray they forgive him for being so disrespectful! He’s lucky they even knocked, this is their house anyway they could just knock and let themselves in! They paid for the house anyway! It wouldn’t matter what Tommy wanted or what he felt, they shouldn’t have to care, this is Tommy’s problem to deal with, not theirs. Prime, he’s such a fuck up, he should just go to the river. Go to the river. Finish this. He’ll be done with this. It’ll all be done. He will be forgotten and then-

 “Tommy?”

 Is that-?

 “Tommy, mate, can we talk?”

 Phil.

 With a wobbling lip, Tommy whines. Why can’t he respond?

 “Oh mate. . .” Phil sighs. Tommy doesn't know how Phil heard him. “Can I come in? I just wanna talk to you.”

 Why would Phil “just want to talk?” Tommy broke one of Phil’s most prized possessions. Talking with him means Tommy has a voice. He doesn’t deserve that voice. He deserves to be knocked down a few pegs. That’s what the foster father in house four always said.

 “I’m opening the door Tommy.”

 That’s the only thing that’s changed since the night by the river. While Phil will always knock and give Tommy a chance to let Phil in, if Tommy takes too long, Phil will enter. And Tommy doesn’t blame him. At least he’s nice enough to warn Tommy. To give him a chance. How many chances can you give one person?

 Sharp clinks of the knob being turned cuts though the room as Phil in all his glory steps around the door. It seems Tommy and Wilbur weren’t the only ones who didn’t get sleep last night. He looks absolutely miserable. His hair is out of its neat ponytail and is instead out loose, with knotted hair weaving out in a tangled frizz. The fact that Phil’s hair is down and in a nest is the clearest sign the man isn't doing well. Even past midday, the man is still in his rumpled pajamas just like Tommy. And similarly to Tommy, Phil’s blue eyes are shot red with old tears as dark bags hang loose from them.

 But as miserable as he looks, he still smiles at Tommy when they make eye contact. He smiles. Even if it’s pinched and wobbly.

 Tommy braces for Phil to drop this bomb. Shoot this arrow of misery straight into Tommy’s heart. The arrow Tommy had fit just for Phil to aim and fire. Now he waits for the heat and the pain that will surly wither his heart down to ash.

 Tommy’s not ready.

 He hasn’t been ready.

 He’s not ready and he still isn’t ready as Phil takes a slow seat in front of Tommy on the bed.

 The tired man looks at the mess of sheets and blankets thrown around the room and he chuckles weakly. So faint, you had to be looking for it to see it. Tommy saw it. Tommy saw it right in front of him.

 Then Phil sighs, he sighs so low, so heavily as if he’s carrying all the weight in the world as he finally says, “I-I’m not mad. . . I’m not angry. . .” He looks up at Tommy, no smile raising his lips anymore. “I’m just. . . really, really , really disappointed.” The most basic dad, mom or parent bullshit excuse ever known to man. But Tommy can’t be mad about it. Not at Phil. Even if it’s so basic.

 Tommy’s waiting for the bomb to drop. Fire that arrow, Phil. I made it just for you. Fire it.

 “I’m not angry. . .” Phil speaks as if he’s trying to convince himself of that, but he’s so sure when he says, “I’m not going to send you back.”

 Tommy blinks. Useless, emotionless driven tears drip down his cheeks.

 “Why. . .?”

 Tommy seems to be asking this question a lot lately, and it’s never answered. At least- not in the way Tommy expects them to. Wants them to.

 “Because. . . Because I know that’s why you did it,” Phil explains. “I know why you. . . Why you. . . Why you did that.” With a small breath, Phil looks Tommy straight in the eyes again. “You want to find the line Tommy. You want to find out when we will break. When I will break. When I will send you back. But I’m not sorry to say it’s not going to happen.

 “Tommy, you are a joy to be around. You are a light in a world of dark and it’s a shame no one else could see that. You’re funny, passionate and unbearably kind.” Phil smiles. “I could never give someone like that away. Not unless they want to and Tommy it is so clear as day that you want to stay. I see the way you look up at Techno. You look up at him like a leader. Someone to follow and trust.” Phil chuckles as Tommy blushes. “So I’m going to let you stay.

 “But let it be clear,” he suddenly sobers. “What you did last night. . .” A deep breath in. “Hurt.” A deep breath out. “It was not okay. It hurt so bad Tommy and while I know you regret it, hurting me was your intention and you succeeded. Whether you regret it or not.” A few tears dripped down his cheeks as he tried to make eye contact with Tommy. He failed. Tommy’s eyes stayed glued to the mattress.

 “Tommy,” With a gentle hand, Phil softly cups Tommy’s jaw and lifts the boy’s head to look up at the man. Wiping his tears with his thumb, Phil’s eyes shine with his own tears as his lip wobbles. “I need you to know- that it hurt, because that was my wife's wedding cup. Two cups made from her father for that night. She drank from that cup the day of our wedding.”

 “W-What happened to her. . .?” Tommy asked, but he already knows the answer.

 “She passed away.”

 Right on the nail.

 “She got sick and left me,” Phil says softly as his gaze falls again, but he doesn’t remove his hand as his palm and thumb collect tears.

 “I-’m s-s-sorry Phil. . .” Tommy sobs out as he leans into Phil’s hand, letting his cheek get smooshed but Phil’s soft palm.

 “I know. . .” Phil whispers as he starts reaching his other arm forward as he pulls his hand away from Tommy’s face. The boy leans after it like a plant chasing light. But it was pulled too far and his head fell forward as he choked on another sob.

 “I-I’m so sorry Phil! I- I shouldn't have-”

 Phil cuts him off with a soft shushing noise as he holds his hands underneath Tommy’s armpits, pulling Tommy towards Phil’s chest. Taking the invitation, Tommy practically claws his way into Phil’s chest as he sobs near uncontrollably, babbling useless apology after apology as if he deserves the forgiveness Phil has offered to him on an open platter.

 A familiar hand starts rubbing Tommy’s back as another runs through his curls. Slowly and rhythmically like a soft ticking clock. After another beat, Tommy is pulled more comfortably onto Phil’s lap. Such a vulnerable place to be sat but one he loves as it reminds him of his childhood. His mother or father holding him close.

 And now Phil is taking that place.

~~{o0o}~~

 The downstairs is not nearly as deathly silent as it was earlier today. And while it wasn’t at it’s usual volume, there was a TV playing some show and some soft snores from a sleeping Techno. So it seems Tommy and Phil’s little reconciliation has mended the metaphorical crack in the foundation of the house.

 Side by side, the former mentioned Tommy and Phil were glued at the hip as Phil led them into the living room. After an hour of tears and soft words and some much needed hugs, Phil had offered they go downstairs. Seems the scent of teenager was starting to bother the man. So who was Tommy to disagree, but he hasn’t separated himself from the man. Phil had tired, rather reluctantly, to step away but that seemed to panic the shit out of Tommy. So together they stayed.

 Quietly, as to not disturb the sleeping Techno leaning back on the purple armchair, Phil sat down on the couch first before tugging Tommy down to sit by his side. Tommy didn’t hesitate to lean most of his weight on the man and he didn't seem to mind as he laid his head down on top of Tommy’s. The boy only melted more as long fingers started carting through his curls.

 After a moment of soaking up all of Phil’s love, the show playing on the TV started getting increasingly difficult to ignore, especially since the characters on screen seem to be having a fight of some kind. Why is the red haired kid fighting the adult by himself? Why aren’t the others helping? What the heck is that purple gas?!

 This seems really interesting and it encourages Tommy to glance up from where his head tucked snuggling into Phil's neck. What he saw was an anime. He wasn’t sure what exactly it was but it was definitely an anime and Phil seemed glued to it. A soft smile raised his lips as he watched the different characters dance across the screen. It looks like the red haired kid is winning. He got the adult in the face with the purple gas and tied him up on the floor.

 “What. . . is this. . .?” Tommy asks as the red haired kid, is his name Karma? , pulls out...hot sauce? Just as Tommy is wondering what the heck that’s for, the red haired boy shoves it up the adult’s, the bad guy’s? , nose.

 Phil’s suddenly paying much more attention when Tommy lets out a startled laugh as he looks down at the boy. “Oh! This is Assassination Classroom. Never seen it?”

 Tommy lightly shook his head.

 Phil gives Tommy a funny look. Not judging nor disappointed, more determined.

 “I think you’ll like it. It’s rather humorous but has a bit of an emotional punch here and there,” Phil explains as he starts to lean forward on the couch. Tommy can’t stop himself from whining as Phil pulls away from him.

 Quietly, Phil gently shushes him as he keeps running his hands through Tommy's hair. Suddenly, Phil is leaning back again but with a remote in his hand. Tommy doesn’t hesitate to re-bury himself into Phil. The man only holds him tighter.

 After a beat of gentle embrace, Phil doesn’t pull away as he points the remote at the TV and starts flipping through tabs. Soon, the first episode of the anime is playing and Phil is fully relaxing on the couch.

 “My personal favorite character is Aguri Yukimura,” The man says idly as he starts gently scratching the base of Tommy’s head.  “I think you’ll like Nagisa Shiota, he reminds me of you. Passionate, determined, kind.”

 Tommy does think he’ll like that character, he does sound like him.

 The echoing shouts of characters are interrupted by the soft grunt of a now awake Techno. With tousled hair, the man sits up and rubs at his eyes as he leans forward to put his elbows on his knees. Glancing up, he side glances Tommy and Phil before sighing, standing and walking out of the living room.

 Tommy blinks confused as Phil chuckles.

 “He’s just processing mate, don’t worry.” Phil seems to read Tommy’s thoughts.

 Tommy hums in understanding in response before going back to watch the anime. He’s shocked to say he's hooked. The plot’s interesting. The characters are fun. And it’s rather silly and doesn’t take itself too seriously. And Phil was right. He really does like Nagisa.

 After another few episodes, Phil suddenly asks Tommy a question. A rather random one.

 “How would you feel about trying therapy Tommy?”

 Therapy? Tommy’s never really thought about therapy. It was never really an option in his circumstance. One of his old foster siblings went to see a counselor every week but that was as much as he heard about it.

 Don’t get him wrong, he knows what therapy is, he just- doesn’t know the process. Are they gonna poke and prod at him? Ask him intensive questions he’d rather not talk about or even think about? Would they manipulate him to tell them everything? He doesn’t know. And he doesn’t know if he wants to.

 “Uhm. . . N-not really no. . .” Tommy mutters. “Why?”

 “Well,” Phil starts as they both keep their eyes on the screen. “Sam said it would be a good idea and I agree. Therapy is a good way to get some help on mental issues. Wilbur does online calls with his therapist every week. Sometimes more depending on what happens.”

 “Oh. . .” Tommy said dumbly as he started picking at his nails. “What kind of things would they help me with?” He could feel Phil chuckle from beneath him as he gently pulled Tommy’s fingers away from his nails.

 “Things like that,” he said with a smile as he lightly rubbed at Tommy’s scared, scabbed and beat up nails.

 Humming in confusion, Tommy glanced up at Phil asking a silent question.

 “That, Tommy, is an anxiety habit.”

 “What do you mean?” Tommy asks out loud as he glances down at his nails again.

 Phil stopped rubbing his nails to hold his hand. “Picking your nails is a way to ease anxiety. It’s not a good one and a nasty habit. A therapist will help you find a better way to release your anxiety, rather than hurting yourself.”
“Oh. . . Well- That sounds alright. . . But I uh- I don’t know any therapists. . .”

 At that, Phil couldn’t seem to stop the laugh from bubbling out of his chest as he pulled Tommy close again in a nice firm hug. Not restricting like Tommy’s worried it’ll be. No, he was only sturdy. Tight but would loosen the moment Tommy pulled away.

 “Don’t worry, Toms,” Phil chuckled as he loosened his hug to rest his head on Tommy’s instead. “We got Puffy. She’s a therapist and has sent me a whole bunch of information on a handful of professionals who are specialized in foster care.”

 Oh, that sounds nice. Getting help. Finally getting a chance to feel better. But why couldn’t Puffy just do that? He asked Phil as much. Phil only answered kindly.

 “Because Puffy is a friend. It would be inappropriate for a woman in your general family or friend group to know all your deepest secrets and issues.”
Yeah, that made sense but Tommy’s didn’t respond. He only nodded as he tucked his head back into Phil’s chest. The urge to pick at his nails was back and as much as he wanted to go back and pull at them, Phil said no. Phil said it was unhealthy, and Tommy was tired of fighting Phil. If that man said it was bad, then- who was Tommy to disregard him.

 Seeming to notice Tommy’s twitching fingers, Phil rubbed his hand as he reached over to grab something from off the side table. Quietly, Phil picked it up and placed a small cube into Tommy’s other hand. It had a whole bunch of buttons and switches and gears to turn. Tommy was immediately intrigued and started messing with all the different knobs.

 Suddenly, everything clicked. The smiles. The kindness. The nice room. The clothes. The hugs. The shows. He gets it. He gets it because Phil wants him. Phil wants him. Phil loves him. It makes Tommy feel stupid now as his eyes filled with tears. Without another thought, he sprung up on his knees only to turn and crash himself right on top of Phil as he squeezed the man in a tight hug around the shoulders. The man wheezed at the force, but as soon as he caught his breath, he held Tommy just as tight. Holding him tight around the middle as Tommy cried into the man's neck.

 “Thank you. . .” Tommy whispered. “Thank you.”

 “You’re welcome mate,” Phil says as he presses his forehead into Tommy’s.

I don’t think I need to fight anymore.

~~{o0o}~~

:D :) XD

Chapter Text

Mistakes and Missteps

 Anxious, twitchy fingers fiddle and press the buttons of a fidget cube Tommy hasn’t let go of since last week. Leaning back in his black spinny chair, Tommy watched the waiting screen of an online call as he started rolling the gears on his cube with his thumb.

 Prime he’s nervous. He’s gonna be talking to a therapist for the first time.

 After a long time of looking through several profiles and bios of certain professionals and counselors Puffy had sent them, Phil and him had settled on a male therapist named Henry. Henry apparently specializes in certain anxiety disorders, depression, PTSD and CPTSD and was more than happy to help Tommy out. Now they're having their first appointment and Tommy has no idea how it’s going to go.

 Well- he did have a little insight. Kindly, both Wilbur and Techno gave him a little inside information after Tommy got the courage to ask.

 They explained that Henry was going to ask rather- deep questions. Not quite invading but right on the border of it. Seeing Tommy’s eyes widen, Techno was quick to explain that Tommy didn’t have to answer them if he didn’t want to. That’s what made the questions a little easier to hear. If Tommy really didn’t want to answer, he didn’t have to. Though Wilbur and Techno explain that the questions were being asked to help him, not to hurt him.

 Another minute passes as Tommy waits for the session to start. The urge to pick at his nails is back. He really, really, really wants to pull at them. Rip a hangnail or two. B-but Phil said it wasn’t good. He gave Tommy the fidget cube specifically to help him not do it and everything! Tommy promised he wouldn’t anymore.

 How would Phil react if Tommy broke that promise?

 Tommy’s gaze suddenly flicks to the screen when the waiting screen changes to a lobby screen.

 “The Host will let you in soon.”

 Tommy jumps when a sudden pinging noise is sounding through his ears as a video camera starts showing a man with shaggy brown hair, but that’s about all he can see as a second pop up appears asking him if he wants to join the video with a camera and computer audio.

 Tommy presses yes and it falls away. Then he’s facing an older gentleman. Around Phil’s age it seems. He’s got crow’s feet at his eyes and wrinkles decorating his forehead and cheeks. His facial hair is thick and full but not too long. His eyes are a striking green, glittering like emeralds as he holds an old, loved clipboard with many children's stickers littering the back of it.

 “Hello?” Henry greets with a question.

 “H-Hi. . .” Tommy whispers. He prays that the man hears him.

 By the smile pulling at Henry’s cheeks revealing slightly yellowed teeth Tommy can only assume he did. The man is missing one of his canines and there's a gold one right up front.

 “Ah! Hello Thomas!” Henry greets again, but he notices the way Tommy shrinks away at the use of his full name. “If there is a different name you prefer. . .?”

 “I- I prefer Tommy,” he says as his gaze flicks to the side.

 “Excellent! Well Tommy, my name is Henry Milkton and I am going to kick off these sessions with a few ground questions and circumstances. You won’t have to worry about this too much, just professional things. Ready?”

 Tommy nods silently.

 “Perfect!” Henry chirps as he flips one of the pages of his clipboard while glancing down at it. “First off! Tommy, is this your first time in Therapy?”

 “Y-yeah.”

 The man checks something off his list. “Wonderful.” Looking up again, Henry is still wearing his smile, closed mouth now, as he goes on. “Welcome to therapy Tommy! I will start off by explaining that anything and everything you say in this conference is completely confidential apart from two things.”

 Wilbur and Techno talked about this.

 “If there is talk of abuse in your household or you have admitted to hurting yourself or others I must report it. Everything else is all confidential.”

 Tommy nodded in understanding. Before this call Henry was already given a brief peak into the reason Tommy’s here today, so he knows about- well- you know. Tommy doesn’t have to worry about this. At least- he doesn’t think so.

 A cherry smile keeps Henry's eyes squinted as he says, “Alright! Let’s get this show on the road!” Briefly, Henry looks down at his clipboard to flip and page before he glances up again, the man takes a much gentler approach to saying, “So Tommy, it says here to had a bit of a bump around a month ago.” The river. “Wanna talk about that?”

 No, not really, he doesn’t. But- they have to start somewhere.

 “Uhm. . . Well-” Tommy starts. “I don’t really have those thoughts anymore. . . I don’t think. . .”

 Humming in acknowledgment, Henry looks down and scratches something onto his papers again. Tommy watches as he swallows nervously.

 “I uhm. . .” He licks his lips. “I–” Closing his eyes, Tommy takes a deep breath. He doesn’t have to answer if he doesn’t want to. This is his time. “I don’t really want to talk about this.”

 Immediately, Henry nods as he sets his pen down, “That is absolutely okay, whenever you're ready. What about your hobbies? What do you like to do for fun?”

 “Oh!” Well that's easy. “I really like to read. . .”

 “Yeah? What’s your favorite book?”

 “Definitely Harry Potter. Techno, my foster brother, lent it to me and I’m hooked.”

 Henry chuckles, “I can definitely see why, it’s one of my favorites too.”

 “Mhm! Oh! And I really like video games! Minecraft is one of my favorites, it’s especially fun when I get to play with Techno or Phil.”

 Again, Tommy watches as Henry writes something down, “What makes Techno and Phil’s company so great?”

 Walking down the carpeted steps, Tommy makes his way into the kitchen for lunch. When he walked in, Phil was working over the stove as he pushed some chicken around a skillet, humming some random notes as he worked.

 With a quiet hello, Tommy sat down at the island and pulled out his phone to start poking around.

 Greeting Tommy, Phil glanced over his shoulder to give a smile as he asked, “How did it go?”

 Looking up, Tommy smiled in return as he responded, “Not bad.”

 Phil beamed as he turned back around to turn off the burner and pull the skillet off to the side. “That’s wonderful! What did you think of Henry?” He asked as he started rummaging through cabinets.

 “I like him,” Tommy admitted with a shrug. “He- kinda reminds me of you. He’s funny, kind. I like his smile,” Tommy says before he realizes it and freezes.

 Nervously, he glances worriedly back up at Phil only to see the man smiling fondly back.

 “I’m glad you like him Tommy,” Phil says simply as he pulls out four glass plates and places them down on the counter. With short strides, Phil walks over towards the pantry placed right next to the doorway of the dinning room and pulls out some tortillas before walking back and placing it on the counter. After a few minutes of preparing, lunch is ready and Phil is pulling out cups just as Techno and Wilbur walk in.

 Rather loudly, both brothers pick a seat beside Tommy. Techno to his left, Wilbur to his right as they bicker about something to do with Ravagers. You know- that big scary blue-gray rhino-looking mob in Minecraft.

 “What is your deal with them anyway?” Wilbur asks with a playful scowl.

 “It’s a cool mob,” Techno replies with a shrug as he pulls one of the plates towards himself. He then pushes it in front of Tommy as he pulls a second one down for himself.

 With a scoff, Wilbur does the same, pulling a plate, as he goes on to explain, “We should go for something easier first! Pick an easier one.”

 “Uhhhh,” Techno thinks for a moment as he looks up at the ceiling. “How about a Wither.”

 Tommy snorts, nearly choking on his food as he starts laughing. When he swallows, he glances up at the bigger man saying, “That’s arguably worse.”

 Techno just shrugs again as he starts thinking again, “A vindicator.”

 “A vindicator?” Wilbur repeats before he sighs, “I guess that could work. . .”

 “What are you two even doing?” Phil asks as he sits himself up on the counter to eat.

 Wilbur lights up and leans forward. “We got a hundred players on this Minecraft server and were doing experiments.”

 “Experiments?” Phil asks disbelievingly.

 “It’s torture,” Techno blunts. “We’re torturing them.”

 Choking again, Tommy starts cackling followed by Phil’s concerned laugh.

 “It’s not torture!” Wilbur protests.

 “It’s torture.”

 “It’s not!”

 “It is.”

 A sigh, “Yeah- yeah it is. . .” Wilbur slumps, resting his head on his propped up arm. Then he perks up and glances at his empty cup. “Hey Dad, can you get me some milk?”

 “Almond?” Phil asks as he hops down from the counter, setting his plate down as he walks over to the fridge.

 Rolling his eyes, Wilbur responds, “Yeah, what else would I ask for?”

 “Mate!” Phil exclaims. “Sometimes you like to test yourself! Make yourself suffer with whole milk. I didn’t know if it was one of those days.”

 “Well- it’s not.”

 At that, Phil turns around to give Wilbur a Dad Stare ™ as he lifts one of his brows to question if Wilbur really wants to push this. He doesn’t, he backs down with a quiet “Sorry” falling from his lips.

 Techno snorts.

 Phil sends the glare at him instead before he opens the fridge and pokes his head in. After a second of looking, he starts pushing things around before he says, “I don’t think we have any left?” Phil digs around again before he goes, “Oh! I was supposed to go down into town yesterday. I must’ve forgotten. . .”

 “Old man, you are forgetting things more and more nowadays,” Techno says solemnly as he shakes his head slowly. Tommy snickers.

 “Watch it,” Phil hisses with a smile as he closes the fridge with normal whole milk in hand.

 Wilbur looks disappointed though, “I’d rather not have whole milk today. Can you go into town? I have school work.”

 Phil shakes his head as he pours himself a glass of milk instead. “I’ve got work. I can try tomorrow.”

 “I can go.” Techno suddenly says. “I gotta drop off these flowers at Niki’s café so I’ll be down there.”

 “Thanks mate.”

 “No problem,” Techno shrugged before he glanced down at Tommy. “That means you’ll be stuck with me.”

 “What?” Tommy asks suddenly as he blinks dumbly, then he remembers, “Oh.”

 “Yeah, we’ll leave after lunch.”

 “Okay,” Tommy shrugged. He didn’t mind the chance to hang out more with Techno.

 Pushing his plate to the side, Tommy lets himself lean into Techno's side. The man stiffens for a moment before he relaxes and wraps his arm around Tommy’s shoulder, rubbing loving circles into his back.

 “Ready?” Techno asks from the front seat of his truck as Tommy clambered in the passenger's seat. When he finally gets himself up, Tommy glares down at the pavement before slamming the car shut with a little more force than necessary.

 “Yup!” He says with a smile before kicking the bottom of his seat. The inside of the truck smells like oil, dirt and pollen.

 Stupid tall truck.

 Techno seems amused as he huffs and puts his keys into the ignition. With a swift turn of the key, the vehicle starts with a rumbly growl.

 “Right,” Techno starts as he turns in his seat to start backing out of the driveway. “I’m gonna meet Niki at her café, give her those.” Now pulled out of the driveway, he points at the white wicker basket filled with a bouquet of yellow, pick and blue flowers sitting in the backseat. “And then we’ll go get Wilbur’s milk.”

 As Techno starts driving, he seems to think for a moment before saying, “Actually- Tubbo gave you a tour of town right?”

 Blinking, Tommy glances up at Techno, “Yeah?”

 “Then you know the market is right down the road from the café?”

 Tommy nods.

 Shifting to the side, Techno pulls out a black wallet from his back pocket and hands it to Tommy.

 “Do you think you can get the milk? I’ll be right behind you but Niki will probably need some help with the flowers.”

 “Why would she need help with flowers?” Tommy asks as he slowly opens the wallet.

 Techno gives him a deadpanned glance. “Look in the back seat.”

 Turning, Tommy swings his whole upper body back with his knee against the center console as he gets a better look at the back seat. Besides the one basket Tommy could already see, there were four more behind his seat and on the car floor. All filled to the brim with flowers.

 “Oh. . .”

 “Yeah,” Techno laughs. “Just grab a five.”

 Sitting back straight, Tommy pulled a five pound note out of Techno’s wallet as he closed it and handed it back.

 “But. . .”

 Techno hums encouragingly. 

 “Aren’t I uh. . . flight risk. . .” Tommy whispers as he runs his thumbs over the old wrinkled note.

 Suddenly, a hand is holding his.

 “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have called you that,” Techno apologized as he kept his eyes on the road, holding Tommy’s hand firmly. He turned to look at Tommy. “I won’t be far.”

 Silently Tommy nods and squeezes Techno’s hand in return.

 A silent, “I forgive you.”

 Hopping out of the car, grabbing a basket of flowers each, Tommy followed Techno's at his side as they walked towards Niki’s café. From afar, the yellow and blue building glowed in the morning sun as they made their way down the gravel road. Crunching rocks made the atmosphere seem calm in passing rather than rigid and frail.

 The place seemed a lot busier from the two times Tommy came around. Normally there were one to two groups of people meandering around, eating their food in peace. Now the place seemed like the hottest hit. People flocking all over the world to see this one café.

 Not really though, but he liked to think Niki deserved it.

 Entering was loud but nowhere near ear splitting. Just people muttering and chatting with the occasional boisterous laugh or fond chuckle as they sat around tables. The line wasn’t long but would definitely be a small wait, and Tommy was about to take their place in line before Techno walked straight past towards the left side of the café.

 Without question, Tommy followed, but he gave Techno a curious look as he neared the counter. Tommy was only more surprised when Techno walked right through the clear “employees only'' area. But then again, Techno was doing business with Niki, so, maybe he was welcome. The baristas didn’t seem to mind! One glance at them and then the flowers and they looked away.

 Then, Techno pushed the swinging door to the back kitchen open and walked in, around the bustling workers and through another door that led to an office. When they entered, the desk in the middle of the room was empty, so was the rest of the room.

 Silently, Techno set the basket of flowers down and Tommy followed.

 “Go ahead and head down to the market,” Techno said as he glanced down at Tommy. “With how busy this place is right now it might take a little longer than I thought.” A gentle hand is placed on top of Tommy’s head. The boy just blinks at Techno as he silently leans into it. Discreetly! He doesn’t want Techno to think he’s clingy. But by the way Techno’s lips pull into a tiny smile, Tommy’s pretty sure he failed.

 “You’re welcome to poke around the stalls, but please don’t leave the market, I will panic, and I will send out a search party,” Techno says as he ruffles Tommy’s hair.

 Squawking, the boy swats at his hand, taking a step back to escape the threat. Once the predator is gone, he glares through the frizzled hair with a pout pulling at his lips.

 “Fine,” Tommy rolls his eyes and starts walking out of the office, ducking through the kitchen and rushing through the café.

 Once he’s outside, he can actually take a moment to stop and breathe.

 In for six, hold for seven, out for eight, he reminds himself.

 Then he’s walking down the roads, taking in all the pretty red trees and lights covered buildings. Even with the lights off, Tommy could never forget the sight they behold. It makes him excited, imagining himself running through the streets at night with Tubbo, Purpled and Ranboo at his side with the stars and gentle lights as their guides.

 Tommy can’t help the pang of hurt spike through his chest remembering them. Knowing the fact they haven’t visited him in the past month. It hurts. But he gets it. He kinda screwed up this friendship himself with his stupid selfishness.

 Maybe they’ll forgive him with time.

 Blinking, Tommy realizes he’s just made his way outside of the market. He freezes.

 There’s a small building buried somewhere under the crates filled with food and produce. It’s not necessarily unsanitary? More organized chaos. But it- it reminds him- it reminds Tommy- it reminds Tommy of a very, very rough time in his childhood.

 House number eight. H-house eight. With. . . with someone Tommy would rather forget.

 “I-I’m not s-sure I can do th-OW!”

 “You are here to do what boy?!”

 “T-to help you-”

 Smack!

 “THEN DO IT!!”

 A shiver goes down Tommy’s spine. But he shakes his head in retaliation. He’s not with him anymore, he’s with Phil and Techno and Wilbur. And he’s not doing this for him , he’s just grabbing milk because Wilbur’s stomach is a bitch. Like the man himself!

 Chuckling faintly to himself, Tommy lets himself walk under the shade provided by the tarp covering all the displayed food. Pushing open the old boarded up door another image of- that place - is there.

 The old door. Creaking when he opens it. Ducking past the cashier. Going to the back towards the freezers. Hiding from the cameras as he. . . collects. He pays and returns.

 Ichior have mercy on the days the seller doesn’t show up. Ichior give mercy to the boy who couldn’t provide. Death provide protection for your child as he’s punished .

 Blinking back tears, Tommy shakes his head and looks through the glass of the few old fridges the market has lined up. His eyes flick from shelf to shelf, shuffling from side to side, reading label to label and. . . There’s no almond milk.

 Letting out a shaking breath before sucking it right back in, Tommy clenches his fist as he tries to calm himself down.

 Maybe they're about to restock! Go ask the lady at the front counter-

 But no one can know! A younger him shouts in his ears. Tommy can hear the sobs stuffed into the back of his throat. Desperate to fall loudly from his lips. But the younger him knows better. Younger him is smart. No one can know what we’re looking for! If they know. We will get caught. If we’re caught. We are as good as dead.

 He’s right. He’s right Tommy can’t just walk up to her! Then she’ll know what he’s looking for. She’ll know he’s buying-

 Wait. . . Tommy shakes his head roughly, and as the world spins, he pushes his palms against the side of his head. He’s just getting milk! He’s getting almond milk! Pull yourself together man!

 Taking another shaky breath, Tommy stiffly turns and shuffles his way towards an empty queue. The lady up front is looking lazily at her phone. She seems bored, uninterested but the way her brows are up high and relaxed tells Tommy she's not unhappy or even unkind. Simply bored.

 “Uhm,” Tommy nearly jumps as the lady immediately looks up at him. “Uhm. . .”

 “Hi there,” she greets kindly with a smile. With a press of a button, she’s turning off her phone as stuffing it in her back pocket. “How can I help ya kid?”

 Tommy swallows again before he whispers, “D-Do you have a-a-any almond milk?”

 The lady blinks and leans forwards as she says, “Can you say that again hon?”

 Suddenly, Tommy’s heart is beating so much faster and sweat is simply pouring down his back like a broken faucet. Tommy prays he remembered to put on deodorant today.

 A little louder, he says, “D-d-do you h-have a-almond m-milk?”

 With a sad smile, the lady leans back as she says, “Sorry hon, the last of it was just sold today. We should have it restocked this Thursday though.”

 “Oh. . .”

 “I’m sorry kid,” she apologizes again. “Small town means little supplies.”

 “I-It’s okay. . .” It’s not okay. “T-thank you anyway!” She did nothing to help.

 Spinning on his heel, Tommy barely stops himself from bolting out that door. He walks. He will walk. He will talk down that road. To Techno. And tell him- tell him- tell him he failed. Tell him he failed and will take any punishment given to him. Because he failed.

 He failed. . .

 He failed.

 Failed.

 “Tommy?”

 Looking up, Tommy feels a few hanging tears drip from his chin as he’s met with the sight of a worried Techno and Niki. They’re both standing in front of Techno’s truck. And they both look worried. What liars. What actors.

 “What happened?” Techno asked slowly, taking the tiniest step forward.

 Tommy took a full step back as he sniffled and held back ugly sobs. He had to be quiet. He had to take what he deserved. Even if it really, really hurts.

 “Tommy?”

 “I. . .” Tommy breathed out. “I-I’m sorry. . .”

 Through blurred vision, he watches Techno give a confused glance towards Niki before glancing back and taking another step forward.

 “What are you sorry for?” He asked slowly.

 Tommy just started crying harder as he stumbled a few steps back.

 “I failed,” he sobbed. “I failed, I failed, I failed,” Tommy rambled over and over again as he messily rubbed at his cheeks and eyes.

 “Failed what? Tommy, you're not making any sense. Talk to me, what’s wrong?”

 Why wasn’t Techno getting it?! Why couldn’t he understand that Tommy failed! That’s all that mattered, he failed! He failed! He failed! And he was going to be punished! He was going to get hit! And it was going to hurt! Then he would be locked - l-locked i-in that s-stupid c-closet! Locked in the dark for Prime knows how long! But he had to take it because that’s what he deserves.

 Gasping, Tommy tried to take a deep breath in, but he couldn’t. The air got lodged in his throat and he began to choke and cough and sputter.

 Suddenly, hands were gripping his shoulders. Tommy screeched and tried to throw himself backward but the hands stayed right where they were. Tommy stayed right there. Perfect in place for him . For him. For him. Tommy doesn’t want to stay put for him . But he has to. He has to. He has to!

 Tommy feels his face get pressed into something soft and warm and sturdy. He feels arms wrap around him causing him to feel every bit of fiber holding him close and pressing against his face.

 Slowly, it presses against him. It comes up. Then down. Letting Tommy’s face relax against it. A slow breath is breathing through his hair. Then it comes up again. Pressing Tommy close. Then down and air is blowing through his hair again. Up, and then down.

 With a squeeze, Tommy’s fingers gently grip the fabric in his hands. It filters in that he’s being held, he’s being cradled against someone's chest. He scrunches his fingers again to feel the soft fabric.

 Gasping, Tommy sucks in a breath as his eyelids flutter. Another breath is sucked in as his fingers tighten around the fabric. With a breath through his nose, he smells the sickly sweet scent of flowers.

 “Techno. . .” Tommy gasps.

 “You coming back?” Techno asks quietly, running a hand through Tommy’s hair.

 He doesn’t respond, he only shoves his face deeper into Techno’s chest as he begins to quietly weep again.

 “Come on kid, let’s get home,” Techno says as he starts moving to pick Tommy up.

 With a small huff, Tommy is resting on Techno’s hip with his face now hidden in his neck as tears drip. The man doesn’t seem to mind as he rubs circles into his back.

 “Do you need any help getting him home?” Tommy heard Niki ask quietly.

 “Naw, I got him.”

 Tommy squeezes his arms around Techno's shoulders in some sort of hug. The man responds with his own gentle squeeze.

 The car ride was filled with tears, held hands, soft reassurances and- more tears. Halfway home Tommy burst into another round of loud ugly sobs and he thought of all the different ways he would punish him. Through panicked breaths he begged Techno not to take him back. To never let him go back to him .

 Techno promised Tommy would never have to even hear about that man again.

 Seems he finally figured it out.

 When they got back to the house, Tommy zoned out. He could hear the truck quieting down. He heard the slam of the driver's side door open and close, and when he blinked, Phil was now rushing around the corner of the house, Techno on his heels before he flung open the car door to hold Tommy in his arms.

 “Phil! Phil! I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I-”

 “Shhhhh,” Phil hushed as he ran his fingers through Tommy’s hair. “It’s alright. I’m not angry. I could never get angry at you for something so far out of your control.”

 “But- but- but he-” Tommy blubbered.

 “Whoever he is, he won’t touch you,” Phil spoke confidently. “He will never ever touch you again.”

 “But-”

 “Never.” Phil said finally with a force Tommy couldn’t possibly argue with. After another moment of holding, Phil pushed himself up into the seat of the truck to hold Tommy in his arms better. Much like the other day, Tommy was practically in the man's lap. And he felt so safe. He felt so loved.

 Before he even knew it, Techno was back in the driver's seat leaning over to hold Tommy’s hand. Then the back door was opened and closed before Wilbur gently wrapped one of his arms around Tommy as his head pressed up against him. Tommy leaned into it with closed eyes.

 If this wasn’t his family, he didn’t know who was.

~~{o0o}~~

:D :) XD

Chapter Text

Climbing Trees

 Knock knock.

Mumbling, Tommy rolls onto his side as he throws his blanket up and over his head.

 Knock knock.

 “Tommy?” Phil’s voice sounds muffled past his door.

 Growling, Tommy turns his head so he can shout a tired, “‘Go away,” before promptly burying his face back into the depths of his bed.

 Tommy can hear Phil chuckle through the door before he opens it. With slippered steps, the man walks towards Tommy’s bed before he slowly lays down behind him. A familiar arm draped over his shoulder, pulling Tommy close, as a familiar chin is pressed to the back of his head.

 “Are you gonna come down for breakfast?” Phil whispers into Tommy’s ear with an audible smile.

 “Mm, later,” Tommy says as he pushes his blankets away to roll over and hide in Phil's chest instead.

 He laughs, “There might not be a later. You know how much Wilbur eats in the morning,” Phil says. “It’ll all be gone by the time you're up.” Suddenly, Phil is pulling Tommy into a tight hug as he starts relentlessly attacking Tommy sides and armpits with his fingers.

 With a shrieking laugh, Tommy starts flailing around the blankets as his giggles and shrieks fill up the room.

 “PHIL! S-stOp!” Tommy laughs out.

 Phil only tickles him more, “Oh but how can I when I get to see that smile!”

 It isn’t till Tommy starts coughing from all the laughing that Phil stops and holds him close for one more hug.

 When Tommy finally catches his breath, he looks up to glare at Phil. “You are a wrong’un,” he declares.

 Phil just smiles, “And you are a little shit. We’re even.”

 With a scoff, Tommy pushes away as Phil starts to sit up and get up from the bed.

 “Come on Toms, breakfast awaits.”

 Finally accepting defeat, Tommy gets up to crawl over the bed and follow Phil down the hall and into the kitchen where Techno and Wilbur are arguing about something stupid. Tommy chooses to ignore them and sit down between them.

 Without missing a beat, Wilbur wraps his arms around Tommy to pull him close as he keeps taunting Techno.

 Sighing, Tommy lets his head rest against Wilbur’s chest as Techno gives some monotone retort causing Wilbur to sputter. Tommy can feel his head vibrate as Wilbur yells back. To let the man know he’s not pleased, Tommy balls up his fist to send it right to his chest.

 He stops instantly.

 Instead, Wilbur starts carding a hand through Tommy’s curls as the boy cuddles up close letting his eyelids fall.

 “Tommy~” Phil calls.

 Growling, Tommy wraps his arms around Wilbur as he snaps, “What?” Wilbur doesn’t seem to mind the extra body as he hugs Tommy tighter. Prime, they are a clingy bunch. Not as clingy as Tubbo though.

 “You gotta eat,” Phil continues to urge as Tommy hears the soft scrap of a ceramic plate being slid against the counter in his direction.

 Tommy opts to not reply as he stays firmly in Wilbur's grasp. The latter giggles and Tommy can feel his nose press into the top of his head.

 Techno tsks, “Stayed up all night reading again.”

 “I did not read all night!” Tommy protests loudly as he starts to pry away from Wilbur. The man whines. Clingy bitch. “It was only like- an hour.”

 “More like five.”

 “NO-”

 Phil sighs, making Tommy flinch. Wilbur is quick to start gently rubbing his shoulders and Phil is just as quick to tell Tommy that he’s safe and did nothing wrong.

 “Let’s eat okay?” Phil urges one more time, and Tommy obliges as do the brothers.

 Pulling their plates forward, they all get around to eating. All together, sat around the island, they ate and talked. Between bites they argued and teased, bickered and laughed. It wasn’t till breakfast was gone that Phil got the day started with a request.

 “Hey Tommy?” The boy looks up from putting his plate in the dishwasher. “Wanna take a hike out in the woods with me?” The man asked with a smile.

 Tommy beamed, “Hell yeah I do!”

 Phil chuckled and gently pushed Tommy’s hair out of his face with a gentle palm, revealing the other's forehead. “Go get dressed and ready then.”

 Nodding, Tommy swung the dishwasher closed, bolted out of the kitchen and past Techno, up the stairs and barreled into his room.

 Kicking some old school papers off to the side, Tommy began to riffle through his dresser before pulling out his favorite red T-shirt, some khakis and a pair of warm gray socks.

 Rushing to put it on, he nearly trips as he rushes to shove his foot through the leg of his trousers.

 Once he’s decent, Tommy shuffles out of his room and into Wilbur’s bathroom to brush his teeth and hair. He shares the mirror with Wilbur.

 “Prime! Be nice to your hair!” Wilbur fusses as he rips the brush from Tommy’s hand. With a toothbrush still hanging from his mouth, toothpaste foaming from his lips, Tommy whines and reaches for it using the mirror as guidance. He misses by a long shot as Wilbur starts combing through it himself, taking the much gentler approach. Slowly threading the brush through hair till a knot appears, then Wilbur’s hand holds the knot as he pulls the brush through it as gently as he can.

 By the time Wilbur is done fixing a tiny little braid in the back of Tommy’s hair, the boy is spitting, throwing his tooth brush down and going to wipe his mouth with his sleeve before his arm is grabbed and a towel is shoved into his mouth.

 “Nuh uh. Not on my watch,” Wilbur scolds as he rubs the towel down his chin.

 “Wilburrrrr!” Tommy whines pushing the towel away and yanking his arm free, Wilbur lets go immediately, keeping Tommy from panicking, before escaping the bathroom with slipping feet.

 Knowing Phil did not get ready in the same record time Tommy did, he doesn’t even bother with the stairs, instead he goes down the left hall towards both Techno and Phil’s room.

 He pounds loudly on the door to the left until he hears a laugh and a muffled, “I’m changing mate! Gimme a second!” followed by more laughter.

 Scoffing Tommy let his head fall back as he shouted, “Hurry up!”

 He only responds with more laughter.

 After another minute or two, Phil tells Tommy he can enter and the boy does so easily to see Phil disappearing into his open bathroom.

 “Prime! You’re only just brushing your teeth?” Tommy groans as he plops himself down into Phil’s dark green armchair. There’s a book sitting off to the side on an old antique side table with tea going cold in a bronze colored tea cup and saucer.

 Leaning over, Tommy looks to get a better peak at it. It’s big, very heft for a normal book and the pages are lined in gold. Then the cover is black with gold and purple accents lining it sparingly. And Tommy realizes it’s not just a book. It’s a bible.

 Phil’s laugh echoes from the bathroom, “I like to take my time mate, let me enjoy my morning.”

 “You’re just old,” Tommy says almost robotically as he tilts his head to look at the spine of the bible.

 Death’s Bible │ Lady K’s Version

 As in Lady Death? The goddess? Tommy wondered. He didn’t know Phil was religious.

 Speaking of Phil, the man must’ve said something and Tommy didn’t respond so he poked his head out with a toothbrush working away in his mouth.

 Blinking, Tommy looked up to make eye contact with Phil.

 He blinked back. Ducking back into the bathroom, he reappeared without a toothbrush and pulled his brushed blonde hair into his normal short ponytail before grabbing his favorite green and white striped hat from its hook.

 “Found something?” Phil asks as he places the hat upon his head.

 “Uh,” Tommy pauses to fiddle with his fingers. Glancing back, Tommy stares at all the little nick-nacks filling the table. The bible, the teacup, a deck of cards, a little gold jewelry box with a crow perched on it, lined with elegant emeralds and gems. There’s even a few pictures standing up in frames. One of a teenage Wilbur holding a guitar, and another of a child Techno in Phil’s lap as he read some old book. Then there's one of a woman with wavy brown hair and gorgeous brown eyes, almost unnaturally beautiful, enchanting, like the eyes of fae in the old story’s Techno read him. Tommy knows her name. Kristin, Phil’s late wife.

 “I uh,” Suddenly, Tommy feels like he’s been caught, doing what? Tommy’s not sure, Phil’s been pretty chill about him poking around his things.

 “You’re okay mate,” Phil reassures.

 Tommy swallows and realizes it’s one of those times his voice just doesn’t want to work, so he lets himself just point at the bible instead.

 “Oh! You found my bible,” Phil says as he walks past Tommy to grab his coat from the back of his door. “I never did tell you I was religious, did I?”

 Tommy shook his head and stood as Phil opened the door.

 “Well, I don’t go to church or anything, but I worship and pray to Lady Death. And sometimes the others, depends what I’m asking from them,” Phil explains as they walk down the hall and down the stairs. “I wasn’t always religious, it wasn’t till my wife introduced me to them that I even started considering it.”

 Tommy just nods as he slips on his shoes beside Phil. He clears his throat, “I worship Prime.”

 Phil blinks but it's not unkind, just surprised mixed with understanding, “Madam Prime? Raised that way or-”

 “Raised,” Tommy confirms before he adds, “But I made it my own.”

 Phil only smiles and nods as he opens the door. “After you.”

 They walk deep into the forest. Not anywhere Tommy hasn’t been at this point. But deep nonetheless. They pass Purpled’s tree house, Ranboo’s, the fire pit, Dream, George’s and Sapnap’s treehouses, the pond filled with beautiful floating lily pads and their lotus flowers. Now they’re walking down a twisty, narrow, natural path made from years of people and animals trotting, walking and running through it. They passed Niki and Jack somewhere near the L’manburg tree.

 Old leaves crunch and crumble underfoot as two months since the end of summer has passed and the fall of October has begun, turning the trees from the beautiful greens Tommy saw when he first arrived to even more magical vibrant reds, golden oranges and sunny yellows. Even the Japanese maples that scatter throughout the whole forests have turned their glowing reds a tame russet instead. Now the leaves are beginning to die and fall.

 The cold bites at Tommy’s cheeks as he walks at Phil’s side, the sleeves of their jackets brushing against each other every so often, reminding Tommy Phil is here. Phil is here and he isn’t leaving.

 “Kristin was religious,” Phil says offhandedly as his fingers brush over the bark of an old fallen tree.

 "Yeah?” Tommy indulges as he reaches up to pull a maple leaf from a low hanging branch.