Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Journal? Check. Clothing? Check. Books? Check. Toothbrush? Check. Going through the list of his belongings Tommy made sure he had packed everything up and was ready to leave for 11am on the dot. Sitting in one of the many chairs in the lobby waiting for the person who was going to foster him next. Phil was his name? He has a bit of a reputation for fostering and helping troubled kids like himself.

After what felt like years, a blond haired man walked in heading to reception and was greeted with the cheery "Welcome Mr Watson! Thank you so much for coming in today," the woman working the reception turned to him, "Tommy, come here. This is Mr Watson, he's the one who's going to be fostering you," she said coldly to the teenage boy.

The man smiled at him politely and spoke softly, "Hello, you must be Tommy, you can just call me Phil if you want. It's great to meet you, want to grab your belongings and head off?"

Tommy nodded and grabbed his bag walking behind Phil outside of the building and into his car.

"I should mention I have two boys of my own who you'll meet during your time staying with me," he said, fiddling with the radio as he spoke.

Tommy nodded as he sat in the passenger seat fidgeting with his bag handles, the pair falling into a comfortable silence with the radio playing in the background. Staring out the window, trees with the brown leaves slowly falling off them and the brown coloured grass stretched on for miles in this place. Tommy felt himself dozing off to the radio and the sound of the car crunching against the concrete roads.

The feeling of soft grass was beneath his body, lifting a hand to cover his face to block out the sun. He slowly opened his eyes, blinking a few times to be greeted with a familiar short brown haired boy in his face speaking loudly as usual. "Hey Tommy!" he spoke.

"Tubbo, big man, we've been adopted again," he let out with a groan.

"Again? Is this house safe?"

"I think so, we've been adopted by a man called Phil Watson. The one who adopted those twins a while back and is known for adopting troubled kids and fixing them," Tommy supplied helpfully.

"Him? The one who everyone always wanted to be adopted by? That Phil Watson?" Tubbo questioned, his eyes wide, mouth practically on the floor.

Driving through busy roads, autumn coloured trees and green grass was prominent along with parks filled with parents and their kids. As they went further through the bustling town the trees began to thin out with vast lands of green and hills becoming more noticeable as more and more was visible. Only a few large houses surrounded by tall, grassy hills were in the vicinity of his new home.

The two hour long journey of uncomfortable silence finally concluded as they pulled into the driveway. Phil got out of the car first, making the short journey to the front door and opening it for the younger boy ushering him inside.

"Boys! I'm back, get downstairs!" Phil shouted up towards the stairs.

Two boys came running down, they looked to be around the same age. The tall, lanky boy on the left had messy brown curly hair with a yellow jumper and black jeans on with a beanie and a large, welcoming smile covering his face, the shorter boy stood on the right had pink braided hair which reached his lower back, with a few scars decorating his face and wearing a white collared shirt along with a plain pair of trousers, "What is this the Victorian era?" Tommy thought.

"Probably," he heard Tubbo respond.

"Hi, I'm Wilbur, you're Tommy right?" the boy reached for his hand as if going for a handshake, Tommy pulled his hands from his sides hiding them behind his back. "This is Techno he doesn't like to talk much," the brown haired boy, Wilbur, finished introducing himself, his voice filled with a hint of sadness with his handshake being rejected.

With a small wave, the boy, presumably called Techno, introduced himself with a gruff, "I'm Techno."

"You two can just call me Tommy," Tommy mumbled slightly, staring down at his hands as he began to pick and scratch at his fingers.

Phil smiled slightly then nodded in approval seeing the boys getting along well as they all introduced themselves to one another.

"Follow me Tommy, I'll show you your room," Phil told him.

The pair walked through the cramped hallway and made their way up the stairs to the 2nd floor where an almost empty room was. It wasn't much but it was better than his old rooms. Phil didn't follow him inside but instead stayed standing in the door frame giving him space.

In the far corner stood a tall mahogany wooden wardrobe, with a wooden desk near it, the bed with red sheets sat in the middle of the room with bedside cabinets on either side. One of the walls had a relatively large window with a view into the back garden and another wall leading into a small private bathroom which consisted of a shower, toilet, sink and a medicine cabinet.

Phil eventually left after seeing the boy was happy with his new room and left him to unpack. Tommy began putting his clothing into the wardrobe, then put his toothbrush in his personal private bathroom and began looking for hiding spots in the room. After looking for a while, it became noticeable how one of the floorboards wasn't properly attached to the flooring making it a perfect place to hide small items. His lips quirked up and a giddy feeling warmed his chest, almost like pride, he began putting a few items there and eventually covering it back up pulling a carpet over it.

"Do you think our room will be searched again?" Ranboo asked.

"They seem nice for now, let's just not give them a reason to." Tubbo responded

Tommy led them downstairs, the curly brown haired boy sitting on the sofa, what was his name again? Wilbur? Wilbur spotted Tommy lurking in the corridor and waved at him before asking, "Do you want to watch Tv?"

Tommy nodded in response, walking into the large room, a plush charcoal carpet covered the floor, an off white sofa sat against the wall with a large painting hanging above. On the opposite wall, a spruce unit held up the Tv, which was playing a comedy film from the looks of it.

Cautiously, he made his way to the sofa and sat on the opposite end, far away from Wilbur. "What are you watching?" Tubbo blurted out.

"I think it's a comedy show? Something about bosses and revenge I'm not sure." Wilbur responded.

"I like comedy shows," Tubbo spoke to no one in particular.

Everything felt fuzzy and far away, curse Tubbo for wanting to take over front randomly, his head began to pound as if he was at a rock concert. He breathed in and out trying to ground himself, before he knew it he was thrown out of front with a tall boy hovering around him.

"Well. Let's hope Tubbo doesn't do anything stupid," he mumbled, shaking his head.

"Hopefully." Ranboo agreed.

It was evening, and Ranboo was stuck fronting. He got thrown into the front room after everything started getting too loud at the table.

Everything sounded like he was under water as he attempted to regain his bearings. Blinking rapidly, he began to see and hear properly once more. 

"But potatoes are the greatest dish to ever grace the earth!" The pink haired boy said to the other boy opposite him.

What were their names? Techno and Wilbur?

"Tommy! Are potatoes the greatest dish to ever grace the earth?" Wilbur asked, practically dragging him into the argument.

Ranboo shrugged, poking his fork round the mash on his plate.

"Okay boys, that's enough." Phil eventually spoke up after the two went back and forth for a bit longer.

His shoulders slumped as he let out a quiet sigh. Finally the pair had shut up arguing about potatoes. What was the point in even arguing about potatoes?

Everyone around them was chatting away as he ate, not contributing to the conversation. Most families didn't like when they talked anyways, no point upsetting them now.

He sat pushing around the food for a while, such a bland meal, sausages and mash, eventually he finished it. Once the plate was clear they made a move to stand up and walk over to the sink.

"Hey you don't have to do that, it's my turn tonight," Techno spoke up following behind him.

He nodded quickly and left the plate in the sink for the older one to wash up. Quietly, Ranboo snuck up to their room shutting the door behind them. Quickly, Ranboo grabbed their journal beginning to write a summary of the day in his messy, scrawl writing. Writing about how they were adopted, their new foster parent, Phil, their two new foster brothers, Techno and Wilbur, as well as their day of setting in and his opinion on the family. They seem nice, but most houses do in the beginning, he liked them, but they're wary of them betraying them and acting like the other homes.

Chapter Text

Tommy sat lounging around in their headspace, it seemed to have gotten bigger since the last time he had the chance to be here for longer than a few minutes.

"Hey, Tommy? What do you think of the new family we're with? I know it's only been a day but I'm still unsure about them." Ranboo asked.

"I'm wary of them too Ran, they seem too kind. I'm waiting for the moment we make a mistake and Phil, Techno or Will lashes out at us..." Tommy admitted.

The boy fiddled with his hands, avoiding looking at the other sat across from him. Trees lined the edge of their world, blocking access to anything around them. Silence filled the air around them, Tommy spoke up breaking it hastily, "I best see what Tubbo is up to,"

Tommy spoke, heading over to the small wooden hut which held the fronting room. Opening the old, rotten door, Tubbo stood inside, staring blankly up at the screens as if he was in a trance. Cautiously, he stepped forward into the weird space, everything going fuzzy for a few moments, sound fading in and out.

"Or you can stay upstairs if you want?" Phil suggested.

They quickly nodded in response, Phil accepted it as an answer and hastily left the room shutting the door behind him.

"Wait, so what are we doing?" Tommy asked, confused.

"Going down for breakfast, can I pick the outfit for today?" Tubbo responded, climbing out of their bed and beginning to rummage through the little clothes they had stacked neatly in the corner of the closet.

He picked out a pair of blue denim jeans, black ankle socks, a black tee with a red flannel shirt to go with it.

"Hey Tubs, let me take over the front for breakfast?" Tommy asked, mumbling slightly.

Sighing, Tubbo shut his eyes and focused on stepping back, before he knew it he found himself back in the green fields, a tall, mask wearing, boy laying down in the grass beside him.

Everything was blurry for a few moments as sounds became loud once more, he blinked a few times getting used to the lights. Sighing, he made his way out of his room feeling he had already wasted so much time already.

Quietly, he made it down the stairs and the rest of the family all sat around the table waiting for him to join them. He took the same spot as yesterday, sitting away from the rest of them.

"Hey, Toms, sit up here with us," Techno suggested, tapping the empty seat next to him.

Tommy's eyes darted around for a few moments before giving the other a quick nod. As he stood up, he hunched in on himself whilst shuffling towards the seat like a cat with its tail between its legs.

Everyone went back to their own conversations, occasionally trying to get Tommy to speak up and join in but only being met with a nod, a shrug or a shake of his head. Eventually, they gave up as Techno and Wilbur got up.

"Hey we're gonna head off, we'll be back around 5," Wilbur said before exiting the house, Techno following behind giving a quick wave to Phil.

"Have fun boys!" Phil called out just as the door shut.

The older man stood up gathering his and Tommy's plate beginning to wash up the morning mess.

"You'll be starting school Monday, we'll be grabbing you some stuff on the weekend and going clothes shopping for you," Phil informed him.

"You don't have to, I've got everything I need," Tommy whispered, stuttering every few words.

"It would be good to get newer stuff." he heard Sam mumble in the back, Tommy felt his eyes widen slightly.

"It's okay mate, we can get you some things in. The other two have been saying they need some more stationary anyways." Phil stated, a little firmer this time.

Tommy gave in, simply nodding. Once Phil finished cleaning the dishes, he pulled out the chair next to Tommy.

"I wanted to talk about your file," Phil spoke softly, "Want to know if there's any accommodations you want for when you start school,"

"I don't need anything." Tommy brushed off immediately, why should he get special treatment?

"Your file mentioned you being diagnosed with anxiety, depression, ADHD and autism. You could get longer time in exams, homework extensions, a quiet place to stay in, leaving early and a lot more if you want to mate. How about you give it a try?" Phil suggested.

"It would be useful and could make school easier for us," he could hear Sam saying to him.

"Okay," Tommy agreed.

"That's great mate, I'll set that up for you. We'll go in on Friday morning and get you to pick your classes. I also wanted to ask if you would consider attending therapy." He told Tommy.

"I would rather not because of bad past experiences..." Tommy mumbled. He felt himself start to fidget, avoiding eye contact with the other.

"That's okay, mate. We can try it again whenever you're ready to." He smiled at him.

Tommy nodded before asking, "Can I go upstairs?"

"Sure, you don't have to ask to go places in the house. I'll be in my office if you need me,"

Tommy opened his eyes, his skull trying to split itself in two, he winced slightly. The room he was in was pitch black, where was he? Flicking on the lamp beside him the journal was sat splayed open, with a pen placed in the crease. He picked up the book and began reading.

Ranboo XX/XX/XX

Not sure what happened but Tommy abruptly left front and no one could find him, not even in headspace. Unsure of where he is but now I think I'm stuck in front and everything is quiet.

I fronted and the body was on the floor curled up, and I couldn't breathe, my chest was tight and everything was blurry. A lot of noise was happening downstairs and it sounded like shouting. Maybe that's why he switched out?

Ranboo 22:42

Everything's getting fuzzy, I think I'm switching out, to whoever fronts in we've eaten, we're starting therapy next week with a therapist called Puffy? We've taken all our meds, showered and brushed our teeth!

Tommy felt his chest tighten, his breaths shorten once more. How could he keep losing so much time? How come he couldn't remember any of the day? Their amnesia has never been this bad at least not since they left their last home. His cheeks wet, with tears dropping into his lap.

"What was the technique I taught you? 5,4,3,2,1. 5 things you can see, 4 you can touch, 3 you can hear, 2 you can smell and 1 you can taste," Tubbo spoke, running him through the steps.

"5 things, 5 things." he said between choked sobs. "Our lamp, the floor, the bathroom, the bed, our wardrobe." Tommy took a few deep breaths, still choking on his own sobs. "4 things, the blanket, the journal, the pen, the lamp switch." His sobs slowly stopped, his breath evening out. "3 things, my breathing, my voice and footsteps." Tommy spoke.

A quiet tapping against his door.

"Hey Tommy, I heard you talking to yourself, you okay?" Techno whispered, sticking his head into the door.

"I'm fine," Tommy responded hastily, wiping his face with his sleeve, quickly shutting the journal with his other hand.

"You wanna talk? You look like you've been crying," Techno mumbled.

"I promise you I'm fine, I'm just being dramatic that's all. Sorry for disturbing you." Tommy reassured him, hiccuping slightly.

Techno nodded shortly after, shutting the door behind him.

Reopening the journal, Tommy began to write, his hand shaking wildly.

Tommy & Tubbo XX/XX/XX

We fronted in after Ranboo. I don't remember any of the day or what happened but I ended up having a small panic attack. Tubbo walked me through that technique he found and Techno walked in on us, don't think he believed me when I told him we were okay. Hoping he doesn't mention it to anyone, I don't want to try and come up with a reason for crying and borderline having a panic attack at god knows what hour.

Sighing, Tommy shut

the journal, putting it back in its hiding spot underneath the floorboards before heading off to sleep.

Chapter Text

Sam XX/XX/XX

We have our therapy appointment at 12, so be ready to leave then we will be going to school and clothes shopping!

Tommy read the note over and over again, no matter how many times he found notes in their journal it never ceased to surprise him how different their handwriting is. Writing a quick response of "ok! :)" he got up and changed into a raggedy, worn pair of blue denim jeans, a grey t-shirt and the old pair of red knock off Converse they've had for years.

Knocking echoed through the room.

"Hey Tommy, we're setting off in an hour," Wilbur told him.

"Alright," he replied.

Taking a couple of steps into the small bathroom, he brushed his teeth and ruffled his blonde, curly, overgrown hair. Maybe he should cut it again soon.

He grabbed his bag filled with his essentials: phone, headphones and money before heading downstairs.

Greeted by a kitchen full of people. Well, that is an exaggeration there are only 4 of them after all.

"Grab something to eat before we leave," Phil said.

Tommy nodded in his direction, searching through the cupboards, where was that granola bar?

"I might have eaten it already, try the pantry?" Ranboo pointed out.

Sighing, Tommy listened to the elders' advice and finally found the snack he was looking for.

"Ready to leave?" Phil asked looking up from his phone.

Nodding in response Tommy followed Phil out of the house and into the car.

The small office room was painted a cream white, with two white chairs opposite to one another separated by a clear glass coffee table that held a clipboard, a pen and a box of tissues. A woman sitting in the white chair, picking up the clipboard, directing him to take a seat.

"Hi Tommy, I'm Puffy and I want to go over a few things with you before we start our first session," she greeted him.

"Um, yeah that's fine," Tommy responded, stealing glances around the room whilst fiddling with his hands.

“Anything you say will be kept between us, unless I think you might be a danger to yourself or others then I will have to report it for your safety. The first half of our session will be figuring out what treatment would be the best course of action. Is there anything you want to talk about? Maybe any goals you wish to achieve whilst in therapy?” Miss Puffy asked.

“Well, I’ve bounced between foster homes for a while. I think this is my 6th home? My last home was the worst, I…” Tommy started, attempting to form words.

“Don’t tell her about the memory gaps,” Sam commanded.

“Go on, this is a safe place.”

“I… was hospitalised after my stay with that family. The dad broke ou- my arm after I didn’t finish the chores and talked back to him and we- I was evaluated and kept in a psychiatric ward due to him claiming I was crazy and attacked him first… also because they were worried about my mental well being due to constantly screaming and crying whilst in the hospital.” Sam told Miss Puffy, his voice slightly deeper than Tommy’s.

She nodded politely, writing down stuff on her clipboard.

“I’m scared about our new home, although the dad doesn’t seem like he would hurt me or his kids, I’m still terrified that if I say or do the wrong thing it will be like the other house all over again,” Tommy admitted.

“That’s understandable why you would feel like that, you went through something traumatic and will expect others to treat you the same as he did. What was your original home like, with your parents?”

“... My home? It… It was strange? I don’t know how to explain it,” Tommy laughed awkwardly.

“Is there anything you remember? Happy or sad,”

“Um well, when I was young, like really young we went out to the coast one time and I played in the sand with my mum, and we all had ice cream together. When we got home, the perfect image fell once more and it was back to fighting…” Tommy mumbled, his eyesight blurring.

“We don’t have to talk about them if you don’t want to. You’re starting school soon, right?” she said, pushing the tissue box towards him.

Graciously, Tommy grabbed a tissue dabbing at his eyes before speaking again, “Yeah, yeah I am. I’ve picked my options of what classes I’m gonna do, business, history, photography and art.”

“Mhm, do you like those subjects? What year are you going into, is it your 10th or 11th?”

“Oh, I love those subjects, I studied them at my old school as well! I’m in my 10th year, I’m not excited for mocks. I’m worried I’m behind everyone else in content,”

“Well, I’m sure your teachers will happily help you catch up on any content if you are behind,”

The pair went back and forth discussing mundane things before Tommy’s eyes opened like a scared animals' would as he started to speak, “I just remembered something about my original home, I was physically abused often but I don’t know why..” he started speaking as his voice went up as a few pitches, “I tried everything to make them love me, but nothing was ever enough, so I fought back one day after my dad tried to do something particularly bad to me, and I ran, and I didn’t stop running until someone found me…”

Was it just Tommy or was everything starting to blur? His cheeks felt wet as he felt himself double over, his arms hugging himself, were those sounds his? Why did he feel so numb?

Rapidly Tommy started to blink, his eyes slowly adjusting to the lights.

“Hey, Tommy? Are you listening?” Phil asked, holding a pack of black pens in his left hand.

“Hm? Could you say that again please?” Tommy asked, trying his best to listen but everything was too loud.

“Are you okay?” Phil asked, putting the pens in the basket.

“Yeah, everything is just a bit loud, do we need anything else?”

“No we’ve got everything, we just need to wait for the other two but we can find somewhere quieter if you want,”

Tommy quickly nodded at the promise of a quieter place, since when could lights be so loud? They walked around aimlessly for a while before Phil pulled out his phone and presumably started texting one of the two.

“I just asked Tech where they’re and he told me that they’ll meet us at the tills in 5 minutes, okay?” Phil told him.

Tommy nodded again as he followed Phil to the check-out aisles, twiddling his thumbs trying to calm the roaring in his head. The twiddling slowly turned to picking, then to scratching at his hands. The lights quiet whirring noise driving, the conversations of everyone around them and everyone being too close were starting to drive him mental.

“Tommy, are you okay?” Phil asked, hearing his breathing picking up, turning to look at him and grabbing his hands before speaking once more, “Hey, Tommy look at me, what’s wrong?”

“T-too loud,” he said hiccuping, his cheeks starting to become wet as tears flowed freely.

Phil pulled him close, hugging him as he placed his hands over his ears, shushing and swaying the boy slowly ignoring all the strange looks from other people.

“It’s okay, just a little longer Toms,” Phil whispered soothingly.

The pair stood like that for what felt like hours, Tommy’s cries slowly turning to hiccups as Techno and Wilbur walked up with their own items. The three shared hushed whispers as Wilbur took Phil’s cart and paid for all their items.

“You feeling better mate?” Phil asked, lifting his hands off of Tommy’s ears as the boy nodded in response.

“We’re ready to leave,” Techno said, holding a bag.

They all headed back to the car, Phil and Techno in the front and Wilbur and Tommy in the back. The two in the front were happily engaging in conversation together, and Wilbur was trying to talk to him.

“So, are you excited for school?” Wilbur asked.

Tommy shook his head no, and pulled out his phone before typing, “No, It’s a new place meaning new people and a new routine.”

“Hm, that is fair. You chose business, photography, art and history didn’t you?” Wilbur asked.

“Yeah, are they good subjects?” Tommy typed out.

“Mhm, I did geography, music, ICT and photography. I’m studying music, geography and video editing.” Wilbur explained.

“I did French, triple science, history and religion for my GCSEs, I’m studying English, religion and history now though,” Techno chimed in.

They continued back and forth talking as Tommy got his voice back.

Everything was prepared for the coming Monday, his bag packed, his uniform cleaned and ironed. For some reason, after their therapy session, everything has been quiet. None of the other parts had been talking to him, or at least he hadn't heard them at all. Maybe he'd try to switch out but before that, he needs to journal.

Tommy XX/XX/XX

We did the therapy session, I don't remember half of what happened but someone started to talk about our first home :( Although, Miss Puffy does seem great though! We have another appointment next week same time, we will be taken out of school for it. As well as everything is packed and ready for when we go to school on Monday!

Tommy took a deep breath, putting the pen down. It was odd, how his handwriting always changed, the difference between his and Ranboo's being the biggest. Theirs big but neat, his small and illegible most times. He sat there for a while flicking through pages, reading the past entries.

"Why can't I remember any of this?" he mumbled, dragging his finger across the raised ink.

A knock hit his door, slowly being opened.

"Hey mate, I wanted to see if we could talk about today in the store now the boys aren't here," Phil asked pushing the door open further, seeing Tommy was still up.

"What's there to talk about?" Tommy asked, shutting the journal.

"You had a meltdown in the middle of the shop and I want to know how to prevent one in future and how to help you through it if another one happens mate," Phil said shuffling into his room, searching his face for any sign of discomfort.

"I'm, I'm not sure?" Tommy admitted stumbling over his words.

"That's okay, I wanted to give you these as well, they're ear defenders, they'll block out noises," he spoke, placing them on the edge of his bed.

"Oh, uh thank you, Phil," Tommy mumbled awkwardly grabbing the headphones.

"Sleep well, Tommy," Phil told him, smiling at the boy as he shut the door on his way out. 

Chapter Text

Opening his eyes, he clutched his forehead, the constant throbbing familiar. Being greeted by a dark room with the early morning sun starting to creep in. He sat up carefully, pulling open the bedside table and digging around before picking up the pain killers and swallowing a couple.

Their journal splayed open on the table with their pen sat inside like someone had just wrote something.

? XX/XX/XX

Everything is a mess, I don't know who I am but someone is with me, but I think I'm going to switch out soon? What I know is that our amnesia barriers are up high again, we've been dissociating a lot more, when in headspace I can't find anyone. Whenever someone tries to speak its far away, and I can't hear them. I think something is wrong or that something happened.

Tommy sat dumbfounded, it's been two weeks? He couldn't remember anything. Post it notes filled the side of his walls with small reminders with varying hand writing, a few illegible.

Our therapy appointments are Thursday at 1pm !!!

We need a new journal

Were a few he could read. Maybe he should put one up himself.

"Tommy! Come on you're gonna miss breakfast!" Wilbur shouted up the stairs.

Quickly, Tommy sprung up and pulled on his uniform, shoes and grabbed his bag and headed down the stairs.

"Morning mate," Phil said buttering a slice of toast which he handed to him.

"Thank you, Phil," he grabbed it with caution and slowly took a bite out of it.

He smiled at his foster parent, before heading out the door walking behind the twins.

The two infront spoke to each other, occasionally trying to get his opinion on their topic of discussion this morning. As usual, Tommy stayed silent, barely acknowledging they were speaking to him.

He followed behind, everything blurring slightly, he could feel himself stumbling over his own two feet. Eventually, they all made it after a long awkward walk.

The school building seemed to tower over him, he felt like how an ant must feel seeing a person.

"You gonna be okay, Tommy?" Techno asked as Wilbur left practically skipping to his friends.

Tommy nodded his head, a wave of nausea falling over him, the feeling suffocating him. Where was his first lesson again? The staff said it wouldn't be hard to navigate, it mustn't be that bad, right?

Sighing, Tommy pulled out his timetable quickly, 'History Hi05'. Slowly, he made his way into the building glancing around, a few people barging past him with not even an apology.

A small map of school layout was on the wall, glancing at it quickly, it seemed that History was on the 1st floor, with the Geography and Religious studies classrooms.

"Hey, are you lost?" someone slightly older asked him.

"Uhm, yeah, can you help me find my class?" he mumbled.

"Mhm! What room are you in?"

"Hi05,"

She nodded, telling him to follow her as she took him to his lesson, the bell ringing a few moments before.

Quietly, Tommy went to take a seat at the back of the room, the teacher introducing him briefly to the rest of the class, none of them even sparing him a glance.

The lesson went surprisingly quickly the bell seeming to ring in no time.

"Thomas, can you stay behind for a moment?" the teacher asked.

Tommy nodded, not bothering to correct her about his name.

"I don't know how much work you did at your last school but take these, they're summaries of the topics we've already done,"

"Thank you," Tommy said quickly, stuffing the wallet in his bag.

Each lesson went by the same, he went in the teacher told him his seat, he got given a summary of the work that the class had already done and no one had bothered talking to him yet, thankfully.

Quickly, he made his way down the stairs ready to get back to Phil's with the twins. He hung around outside of the door to the left where they had separated in the morning, the two told him to wait here.

Time past rather slowly, him tapping his foot to the beat of his heart.

"How was school? Did everything go okay?" Sam asked.

"Hey Sam, yeah it went well, I got lost a couple of times though. I'm waiting for the twins is all." Tommy responded

"Alright, what time do they finish at?"

"They should be finished by now but they're probably running a little late, it's fine though,"

"Hey Tommy, I'm Niki," the girl from earlier introduced herself.

"Hi?" Tommy asked confused.

"Are you waiting on Wil and Techno still?" she asked curiously.

He nodded quickly.

She paused before answering, "They have club today though? Did they not tell you?"

Tommy went red, "Maybe? I'm not sure."

"Want to walk home together or are you gonna wait for them?"

"I don't exactly know where I live..." he admitted, glancing away.

"That's okay, I live rather close and we can stop at my bakery on the way if you want," she smiled.

"You're not gonna kidnap me, right?" he asked, jokingly.

She laughed along with him.

"Yeah, I'll walk with you let me just message one of them,"

Quickly pulling up Wilbur's contact, he wrote, "Walking with a new friend, she said she's called Niki and that we can stop at her bakery on the way (said she isn't kidnapping me, yippee)" and sent it.

The pair walked off, talking idly, Tommy thanking her for this morning helping him find his lesson, both getting along well, figuring out they have common interests such as history, art, minecraft, baking and a few other things.

Shortly, the bakery came into view, a couple of cats could be seen sitting on the window sills.

"Is this where you work?"

"Yeah! My family owns it but I mostly run it now a days with my mum being an overall manager I guess,"

"Hm, are you hiring?"

"Depends, how old are you?"

"... For legal reasons I am definitely 16," he joked.

"I'll find a form, it just means you'll be more of a part time employee during the school weeks," she informed him, opening the door, waving to the person behind the counter.

The person also waving to Tommy gave him a quick smile before serving another customer. Niki, walked behind the counter into an office grabbing an application form and handing it to Tommy.

"Do you want anything?" she asked, gesturing to the menu.

"Um, can I get a croissant? What do you think Wilbur, Techno and Phil would want?" he asked.

"I'll grab their usual order up for you, it's on me," she smiled softly at him.

"Are you sure? I'm happy to pay for it,"

"Take it as me paying Wil back for a bet a bit ago,"

"Okay?"

They left the bakery, heading to Phil's house with the drinks and bags of pastries. The pair walking in a comfortable silence together.

"Sorry, can you grab the door for me?" Tommy asked, trying not to drop the drinks.

Hastily, she opened the door, letting Tommy walk in first.

"Phil! Can you come to the kitchen?" Tommy called out in the general direction of his office.

Carefully placing the drinks on the wooden table, Niki placing the pastry bags beside it. Lazily, Phil made his way into the kitchen, beaming when he saw Niki with food.

"Hi, Niki! It's good to see you again, what do you have here?" he asked watching her separate everything up for everyone.

"Took Tommy to the bakery, when are the other two going to be back?"

"They'll be here any minute now, let me help you with that, Excuse me Tommy," Phil said beginning to help Niki unpack the bags.

"Assuming this is yours Tommy," he said placing a hot chocolate, croissant and an pain au chocolate infront of him.

"Couple extras I wanted you to try," Niki smiled at him.

Tommy quickly thanked her, taking a seat as the front door opened.

"Boys! Come into the kitchen!" Phil shouted, also taking a seat in his normal spot.

The other two waltzed in, also beaming at the food set up on the table.

"Oh Niki how you spoil us," Wilbur said rushing to take his seat.

"When are you going to give me your recipe for this lemon pastry?" Techno asked teasingly.

"Never," she joked back.

All of them eating up their pastries and enjoying their drinks, everyone talking together, Tommy occasionally adding to the conversation.

Niki stayed round for a few hours, Phil offering for her to join them for dinner, "It's been so long since you've been round, are you sure you don't want any soup? Not even in a couple of containers to take home for you and your family?"

"No, don't worry Phil, maybe another time?"

"Sure, you're always welcome here,"

Phil and Techno began to cook, making a chicken soup together, both quietly bickering together.

Warmth filled Tommy, he felt like he was floating, and everything was starting to blur around the edges. His hands, moving almost robotically. His vision beginning to blur fully, everything spinning and then it stopped?

"I'm going to the bathroom, I'll be back in a minute," he told Wilbur before standing up and hastily making his way to the bathroom.

"Hello?" he asked internally

"Is someone there?"

"Sam? Ranboo? Tubbo??"

He could hear someone trying to talk to him, but they sound so far away and if they were underwater. Or was he the one underwater? Is this him, Tommy?

He moved himself down to the floor, sitting down and curling up. Closing his eyes, everything spun for a few seconds on and off, someone else was there with him, it was obvious they wanted to front as a migraine began to form and that's when he felt it, he felt like he had fallen a million miles downwards and through the earths centre and back out on the opposite side.

As he woke up to light drifting into his room, he clutched his head blinking the sleep out of his eyes. Slowly, he sat up, pulling out a post it note, writing a quick note.

Tommy XX/XX/XX

Fuck knows the time, everything hurts, we made a new friend we need to fill out the job application and hand it to Niki when we go to the bakery next.

Peeling the post it note off and slapping it on the desk before rolling back over to go to sleep for an extra hour or so.

Chapter Text

Tubbo woke up, blinking repeatedly, he could hear sounds from within the kitchen as if someone was making food, he could hear the shower running in Wilbur's room. Lazily, he rolled over, greeted with a post it note on the desk, the alarm reading 11:02 am, quickly he read the note.

Tommy XX/XX/XX

Fuck knows the time, everything hurts, we made a new friend we need to fill out the job application and hand it to Niki when we go to the bakery next.

Sighing, he sat up and climbed out of bed, the body's arms covered in cat-like scratches. Opening up the bathroom cupboards, he dug through, searching for the bandages, gauze and antiseptic wipes. With years of practices, he sat down and began to wrap up the body shaking his head every now and again.

"Who the fuck did this? Tommy didn't even know why we were in pain, its unlike Ranboo to do something like this and neither would Sam..." he thought to himself.

"Sam?" he called out internally.

"Sam?" he tried again.

"He's not here," he sighed once more.

Footsteps echoed throughout the corridor, then a quiet knock on his door brought him back.

"Hey, Tommy, I made some soup if you want some, I know you said you weren't feeling great the other day. It's on the stove if you want it, me and Phil need to run to the shops, we'll be back soon!" Techno told him through the door.

"Okay! Thank you!" Tubbo shouted back, blocking the bathroom door.

Hearing the footsteps move away from the bedroom door he stood up and left the bathroom, picking one of his favourite outfits. A classic pale blue denim jeans, a white top and a red checkered flannel shirt that hung loosely on their frame.

"Fuck, I could have sworn this fit not too long ago, have we've been that ill?" Tubbo mumbled to himself as he looked at the outfit in the mirror, frowning slightly.

He pulled out his phone, checking the date and time, it was a Saturday. Maybe they could go out today. Tubbo walks out of the bathroom and sits on their bed, holding the journal in hand, flipping through a few entries trying to see if anything written would lead to the aftermath he awoke to but nothing even came close to hinting to it. Sighing, he shut the book and placed it back in the drawer, stumbling upon the stolen box of cigarettes from their old house along with the lighter, surely one wouldn't hurt...

Tubbo doesn't know how long he was sat lent against the window sill, taking drags of cigarette after cigarette, the comforting buzzing settling over the body. The familiar loud, creaking of the front door shook him out of it immediately. Panicking, he put out the cigarette on the window sill, chastising himself immediately afterwards for ruining the paint, brushing the butts into an empty cup before hiding it behind the curtain. 

The loud footsteps, thumping up the stairs, heading to their room. A loud knock echoed against the wooden door.

"Hey, Tommy, can we talk?" Techno's calm, level voice called out.

Tubbo's heart was beating out his chest, his blood ringing in his ears, "Yeah sure," he called out in response, choking on his words slightly.

Techno pushed open the door, shutting it behind him, pulling a face at the lingering smell of smoke.

"Were you smoking?" he asked, getting straight to the point.

"No," Tubbo lied.

Techno paused, furrowing his eyebrows, staring at the other boy before asking, "You're kidding right?"

His cheeks flushed in embarrassment being caught in a lie.

"Hand over the packet, Tommy. I won't tell dad." he promised, holding out his hand waiting.

Sighing, Tubbo fished out the nearly empty box handing over, pouting slightly.

"You can keep the lighter, but where did you even get these from?" Techno asked pocketing the packet.

"Old home, they help distract me when the thoughts get loud..." he admits

Techno nodded, mulling over the new information. Not saying anything else, the other boy walked out leaving the other leaning against the window.

"Fuck." Tubbo cursed aloud, dragging his hands over his face pulling at the blonde strands of hair, shorter than he remembered.

He slumped against the wall, banging his head off of it a few times, cursing himself quietly. How could he be that stupid to get caught? Now their only 'safe' coping mechanism was gone. God he didn't want to go through trying to get another pack, maybe a vape would be easier, easier to hide as well. He crawled over to the middle of the room, pulling back the red, plush carpet to reveal a loose floorboard. Carefully, he lifted it up, cursing aloud once more discovering the only thing there was an old pack of blades.

Pausing, he stared at the blades longingly before rubbing his hand along their left arm, wincing at the sharp pain that shot through them. It'd be worth it though. A punishment for still being useless.

He shook his head, putting the floorboard back and covering it up with the carpet, just like it never happened.

It was later in the day, the rest of the family was at home now, they were all sat around the table eating dinner, 'Tommy' sat between Techno and Wilbur as usual. Techno didn't act any different despite the events from earlier, however, the box of cigarettes wasn't in his pocket anymore. Tubbo grasped his fork harder, his jaw clenching as he begrudgingly ate through the meal infront of him. A simple plate with chicken and various vegetables he disliked, but he pushed through trying to eat as much as he could.

"May I be excused?" Tubbo spoke up, putting his fork and knife on the plate.

"Sure, just put your plate on the side before you go upstairs," Phil spoke up, breaking from the conversation with Wilbur.

Doing as he was told, he placed the plate on the side, scraping the remains into the small black bin that sat near it. Eventually, heading back to their room.

Tubbo laid in the bed, his mind wandering, searching for someone else. He could feel them near the front but he couldn't see nor hear them no matter how much he reached out to them. He laid there motionless for what seemed like hours. Unbeknownst to the movement happening around him, the bed beneath him shifting to the cold concrete of a cellar floor, the yelling around him becoming loud, the words unintelligible as he laid there. His breaths going from deep to shallow in a matter of moments as he heard the sound of a bottle shattering near his head, the feeling of hands on him, ready to hold him down and attack him.

His sight blurring as the cold concrete began to disappear, the soft mattress underneath him once more, but the feeling of a hand holding his, and a hand absentmindedly rubbing on his lower leg.

"Hey, Tommy, are you with me?" Techno spoke as softly as he could.

Tubbo stared at the ceiling, able to see the long pink hair besides him but unable to respond back to the older boy.

"Take your time, it's okay," Techno said reassuringly, lifting his hand from the others leg.

"Techno?" Tubbo asked blinking a few times, readjusting to the lights.

"Yeah, I'm here, Tommy. How are you feeling?" he asked cautiously.

"Dizzy, sick." he spoke quietly, his vision spinning before everything went black.

Everything felt strange, Ranboo had someone holding his hand, the mattress beneath him.

"Do you want a drink of water?" Techno asked, glancing at the empty cup on the bedside.

"Techno? Why are you in my room?" Ranboo questioned.

"Hey, wanted to speak to you, but you weren't responding and seemed rather out of it, are you okay?" he asked again.

"Yeah, sorry if I scared you. I have those moments," Ranboo said confused.

Ranboo sat up pushing the sleeve up on their tee absentmindedly, their arm was killing them for some reason. Before he pushed the sleeve up too far, he brushed against the uncomfortably familiar bandage, pulling the sleeve back down.

"I'll be okay, you can leave now if you want," Ranboo said, subconsciously urging Techno to leave their room.

"I actually wanted to talk to you about earlier if you're up for it," Techno responded vaguely.

"What about earlier?"

"When I walked in on you smoking," Techno said.

Ranboo cursed inwardly at Tubbo, he was the only one of them who still really smoked, he promised to be careful in their new home.

"Do you not remember?" Techno questioned.

"Sorry, yeah I do, it won't happen again, I promise," Ranboo smiled, lying to the other and himself.

Sighing, Techno nodded and walked out leaving the other to think. Once the door shut behind him, Ranboo immediately took off the tee they were wearing, and cursed inwardly at Tubbo once more for relapsing. At least he had the sense to bandage and clean up the wounds. He put the tee back on after a few moments, tugging upon the bedside drawer and grabbing the journal and pen before angrily writing down.

Ranboo XX/XX/XX

Tubbo was fronting most of the day I believe, he relapsed (and bandaged our arms up) and got caught smoking by Techno, Unsure if we still have the packet of cigarettes or not, the lighter is in the bedside but no packet. Something triggered Tubbo back into the innerworld, Techno was by our side when I fronted in. I don't think he knows about us, we'll have to play it off somehow though. For now I'm going to sleep. Not sure if he application form was ever filled in.

He shut the stupid journal, harshly placing it back in the draw before curling up under the duvet to get some rest.

Chapter Text

Ranboo XX/XX/XX

Tubbo was fronting most of the day I believe, he relapsed (and bandaged our arms up) and got caught smoking by Techno, Unsure if we still have the packet of cigarettes or not, the lighter is in the bedside but no packet. Something triggered Tubbo back into the innerworld, Techno was by our side when I fronted in. I don't think he knows about us, we'll have to play it off somehow though. For now I'm going to sleep. Not sure if the application form was ever filled in.

A small note was added underneath.

It wasn't me, nor Tommy who relapsed I think — Tubbo

Tommy quickly scribbled his own note agreeing with Tubbo.

Definitely wasn't me, ask Sam? — Tommy

Sighing, Tommy shut the journal, spotting a reminder post-it note about the application he still had to fill out. He's put it off long enough so he might as well start on it now.

He filled out his name, lack of experience and hour availablity for the time being. The warm, early spring sun shining through his window. It was early Sunday morning, he had no more responsibilities being on top of his homework and revision work.

"Hey, Toms, any chance we can go out today?" he heard Tubbo asking.

Rolling his eyes, Tommy responded, "Fine, no doing anything stupid or buying a bunch of stuff we don't need."

Climbing out of the bed, he glanced around the room, when did they last make their bed, or clean their room? He shook his head, making his way to the wardrobe and changing into a suitable pair of baggy black jeans and an oversized white tee with a black jacket paired with it. Making his way downstairs, Phil was sat at the table, reading the newspaper.

"Hey, mate, heading out?" Phil asked looking up at him.

"Yeah, if that's alright," he responded, glancing down at the floor, picking idly at the skin around his nails.

"Of course it is, just keep your phone on you at all times, come back before street lights are off and if you want a ride back just ask one of us," the older man told him quickly.

Tommy nodded looking up at Phil this time, "Okay, thank you,"

He made his way for the door, stepping out and shutting it behind him. Hearing a quiet 'Have fun!' being called to him. Tommy walked around for a while till he made his way to a clothes shop, smiling at the man behind the counter and wishing him a good morning. Aimlessly wandering for a few moments, he made his way to the shoe section with a quiet note from Sam directing him in the right direction. There wasn't a wide variety of options but they were decent enough. Ranboo seemed to like the purple accented knock-off converses, whilst Tubbo was drawn to the blue pair, he preferred the red.

"Sam, why do we need shoes?" he asked internally.

"Tubbo's shoe soles are tearing," he quickly told the other.

Nodding slightly, he grabbed a low and a high top pair to compare them, eventually settling on the high-top pair after he heard Tubbo mock-gag at their reflection in the low shoes.

Tommy found himself sat on a park swing, his tote bag he brought with him practically overflowing with items.

"Shit," he cursed aloud.

He rifled through their pockets, searching for the small, brown, leather wallet they had got as a gift from an old foster family, all the money minus the amount the shoes cost and a pound or two missing. Curiously, he eyed the bag, pondering how he'd explain this to the others. They weren't aware of the money he had, or atleast he didn't think so. He swung on the swing idly. Desperately, he tried to look back on the past... He checked his phone quickly, 2:33 pm? He left at 10 am, and was in the shop at 10:25? How is he missing so much time again?

"Fuck sakes," he mumbled, stopping himself on the swing and picking up the tote bag.

Sighing, Tommy rustled through the black tote bag once more, feeling a piece of paper in the bag, he sighed once more realising he has to go to the bakery still. Lazily, he pushed himself up off the swing, wandering to the bakery, phone in hand with the directions pulled up.

Pushing open the door, the bell rang above him, the bakery was empty beside the familiar, young woman behind the counter. Her hair no longer a short pink bob but a dyed black, shoulder length hair.

"The black suits her better than the pink," someone chimed in.

Tommy turned his head around searching for the voice, before mentally hitting himself, sighing. Sheepishly, he walked up to the counter.

"Hey Tommy! Finally finish out the application?" she greeted.

"Yeah, we- I did, sorry it took so long but," he paused, digging through the tote bag, shuffling around inside grabbing ahold of the flimsy sheet of paper, "here you go," he smiled.

"Thank you! I'll contact you in a few days depending on the results. If you're denied you can always reapply." she spoke in her professional voice.

Tommy laughed lightly, "Yeah, alright. I like your hair by the way! It suits you," Sam spoke up.

"Aw thanks, I needed a change, you know? Have a hot chocolate, on the house," Niki said, already placing a hot to go cup in front of him.

"Oh, I can't Niki, this is too kind of you-" Sam spoke trying to deny her kind gesture.

She smiled at them, pushing the cup further in their direction before grabbing a pain au chocolate too. Reluctantly, Sam and Tommy grabbed the items, thanking her profusely.

Tommy made it back to the house, the still hot drink in his hands, the wrapped pastry on top of all the items in his bag. He felt himself tense up seeing the car was indeed in the drive way. Shaking slightly, he opened the door, Techno and Wilbur both in the kitchen speaking in hushed voices. Both abruptly stopping as Tommy walked in.

"What did you buy?" Techno asked, eyeing the tote bag.

"Just a few pieces of clothes and a pair of new shoes," Tommy said, placing the drink down.

"... Hey, you know Phil would happily buy you those things right? You don't have to spend your money on it." Wilbur spoke up, frowning. Techno nodding along.

"I know, but I feel bad plus they weren't necessary, I just wanted something new," he shrugged absent mindlessly.

The two boys eyed each other suspiciously.

"Hey, Toms... I think we should talk about something..." Wilbur started delicately.

"We need to talk about some of your habits," Techno finished.

Tommy took a seat at the table, facing opposite the pair. He raised his eyebrows slightly, unsure of what they were on about. The pair glanced back at each other.

"Tommy. Dad found some of your ... items." Techno said.

His heart began to beat faster, his palms beginning to sweat.

"What 'items'?" Tommy asked cautiously. He felt like he was walking on egg shells again.

"Tommy, be really fucking careful with what you say." Tubbo spoke to him " Let me do the talking, I'll get us out this again."

---

Techno sucked in a breath before speaking, "Your blades, he also found the cigarette butts when he was cleaning your room."

His eye widened for a moment, before returning to the same old, cold facade.

"He doesn't know we told you, but we didn't want you to be caught out on it." Wilbur announced quickly.

"Oh, uh, thanks?"

Tubbo left the table, his hands shaking, he picked up their full tote bag, and their drink he left on the side. Quietly, he crept his way up the creaky staircase. He opened the door to see Phil sat on the edge of the bed flipping through a small pocket book he usually carried with him.

"... Hey, what's up? How long you been waiting for me?" Tubbo asked.

"Since I heard you walk through the door. Guessing the boys told you already?" Phil laughed light-heartedly.

Tubbo smiled, "Yeah, yeah they did."

"C'mon take a seat mate," Phil told him patting the spot on the bed next to him.

"I'm not gonna say all the I'm not disappointed shit to you, but we need to talk about this for your safety." he started, "I found these blades and a lighter on your bedside table. Have you been using these to hurt yourself?"

Tubbo froze for a moment, "I used the blades recently after one of my therapy sessions but that was it. I don't use the lighter for anything like that,"

"Are you comfortable showing me?" Phil asked slowly.

Sam nodded, reaching to pull up their shirt sleeve.

"Please don't," he could hear Tommy begging from within.

"Sam, show him, he can help us get first aid items and shit," Tubbo spoke over Tommy.

Phil saw the bandages on their arms, Sam pulled a face seeing them as well. Phil raised a questioning eyebrow at him. Sam shook his head, unraveling the bandage on the right arm first, revealing some deeper cuts. Before doing the same with the left arm revealing mostly healed, purple scars and scabs.

"Hm, will need to clean these, may need some stitches as well," Phil spoke calmly, examining the boys arm, pushing back tears that threatened to spill.

"I'm sorry." Tommy apologised quickly, pulling his arm back.

"It's okay. Does your therapist know?"

"No, I haven't told her yet, I figured she might tell you and I didn't want you to know."

Phil took a deep breath in before speaking, "I'm sorry you felt like you couldn't come to me or one of the boys with this. You can if you wish to, none of us will judge you, we just want to help you."

Tommy and Sam both nodded.

"I also found these," Phil said, waving an ashtray of cigarette butts, "I know I can't stop you from smoking, but I would rather you not do it in the house. How often do you smoke? And be honest with me mate,"

"Not often, I swear. I've only smoked once since I came here and it was because I was having a shit day and I didn't know where I was anymore and-" Tommy rambled, trying to make up an excuse.

Phil stopped him, holding up his hand, "Tommy. I've woken up in the middle of the night, came home from work, to see smoke coming out of your window and the smell leaking into the rest of the house."

Tommy's cheeks turned a bright red.

"I want you to try and cut down on them at least. I know I can't stop you since you can buy them for yourself anyways, but I'm you're current guardian and I'm responsible for your health." Phil told him, gentle but sternly.

---

"Okay, I'm sorry, again for what it's worth."

"I know you are," Phil said gently, leaving him to sit on the bed alone.

He laid on the bed for what felt like days, staring at the unchanged ceiling for as long as it took for his heart to calm down. He didn't come down for dinner, to scared to move from his sprawled out position on the bed. The tote bag left forgotten on the floor, the pastry and drink long gone cold.

He sat up, the window was open, the moonlight pouring in, lighting up his room. A small first aid kit was sat at the foot of his bed, a note written from Phil saying, "Let me know if you need any help, love from Phil."

Chapter Text

He dig through their tote bag, searching for the familiar, small, gold and white box they always had on them. Quietly, he walked over to the window, pushing it open. Beneath the window was a flat roof which led down to the garden fence, but that's not where he planned to go tonight. The small box and lighter in hand, carefully, he climbed out of the window, leaving it open behind him as not to get locked out again like last time. That was a cold night.

He made himself comfortable on the tiled roof, well, as comfortable as someone could be on a roof. He was far away from his window, he was sitting atop of a gabled roof, window beneath him. Tommy didn't like to smoke, it was usually Tubbo who did it, but there's always an exception to a rule. He always wondered what Tubbo found so appealing about cigarettes, he preferred vaping.

He pulled out the first cigarette from the packet, holding it up to his lips and lighting it. He took a slow drag of it before coughing, desperately clutching at his throat feeling the warm, harshness of the smoke assaulting his throat. Sighing, rubbing his throat gently, he took another breath in of the smoke, inhaling properly this time.

This went on for a while until most of the cigarette was gone. The window beneath opened, a familiar brown haired boy poking his head out, grinning wildly, holding a lighter and a metal tin box. Their eyes met, both staring at each other like a deer in headlights.

"... Why are you in my smoking spot?" Wilbur broke the silence first, whispering.

"I'm not allowed to smoke in my room anymore and you can see the moon from here," Tommy said, looking up at the full moon.

The other boy rolled his eyes, climbing out of the window and making his way sat next to Tommy. Tommy held the cigarette idly infront of Wilbur, offering a drag from it. Shaking his head in response he opened up the metal tin he brought out.

Smirking he said, "I won't tell if you won't," As he pulled out a rolled joint from the several sat in the tin.

"Deal," Tommy said, putting the cig that he had out. He spoke up, "Didn't strike you as the guy who'd smoke weed,"

"Good. Have you ever smoked before?" Wilbur asked, lighting the blunt and taking a hit, without coughing.

Tommy shook his head in response. Wilbur shrugged idly, glancing up at the moon as if debating something. He shook his head as if deciding against it.

"Where do you get your cigs from?" he enquired, raising an eyebrow questioningly.

Tommy stayed silent for a moment too long before asking, "Stealing them,"

"Figured as much, how do you even manage that?" he laughed lightly, taking another hit from the joint.

"Magic," he grinned, laughing along with his older brother- what? Tommy would never say such things. Wilbur is most definitely not and never will be his brother.

Sighing, Tommy pocketed the packet and lighter. Smiling at the brown haired boy next to him. His hair reminded him of Tubbo's only if it was less curly and longer.

"I shouldn't, but, do you want a hit? You, nicely, look like shit." Wilbur smiled, holding the blunt in his direction.

Grabbing a hold of it like he'd seen Wilbur do moments ago, he asked, "Do I just inhale like normal, or-"

"Yeah, like you'd do with a cig," Wilbur cut in, "Hey, you know, if you need someone to buy you stuff that Techno and Dad wouldn't necessarily approve of... you could come to me,"

Tommy nodded, eyeing the other suspiciously. He seemed truthful but it could be a ploy to get him kicked out from the house, it wouldn't be the first time. Tommy inhaled the smoke, breathing it out slowly as Wilbur had instructed of him. He did it again before passing it back over to Wilbur, pulling a small face at the taste.

"It can take time to get used to," Wilbur said smiling softly at him.

The two passed the blunt back and forth taking hits of it until they were both high. Wilbur stubbing out the last bit on the roof. They sat huddled together side by side for a while. At some point during the night of their long talk, they made it to the other side of the roof, rather clumsily, but they made it. They sat together on the highest point of the roof, watching the sunrise. The sky filling with gorgeous hues of golden yellows to deep pumpkin oranges. The sun basking them both in her rays as if freeing them of all sins they had committed in a past life together.

"Hey, Wilbur? Do you think there's a God out there? Looking down on us and praying for the best for us?" Tommy asked watching the sun rise.

"Maybe. I hope so." Wilbur said, cautiously wrapping his arm around the smaller one, Tommy returning the gesture.

They sat like that for a while, until the sun was fully over the horizon. It was a warm, bright morning. A new beginning of hope.

"Hey, Toms, do you wanna go to the shop with me?"

"Now? Sure."

They climbed down the roof, rather ungracefully. Both of there eyes still red and puffy from the weed they smoked a few hours prior. Walking down the street, they laughed together, swaying slightly, bumping into each other occasionally. They made it to the small corner shop. Wilbur immediately made his way to the refrigerated drinks section, pulling out a red bull, motioning Tommy to come over.

"Hey, pick out a drink, I'll pay for it." Wilbur said, holding the fridge door open for him.

Tommy glanced over, before slowly moving his hand over a monarch monster drink before glancing over at Wil, nodding in reassurance. Wilbur grabbed another two drinks, presumably for the other two men in the house. Walking over to the counter, he ordered a few behind counter items, Gold Marlboros and two Blueberry Razz vapes, pulling out his ID and paying in crumbled cash notes. They walked out of the store, Tommy checked his phone to see several (well several would be an understatement) of messages from Phil, demanding to know where he and Wilbur went.

"Hey, Wil," he said, showing Wilbur his home screen filled with angry messages from Phil.

Wilbur scoffed lightly, "It's fine, tell him you're with me and we've got gifts,"

Tommy did just that, however, Phil still wasn't happy with them leaving at the crack of dawn.

"Who's the cigs and vape for?" Tommy enquired.

"You and me," he responded, handing a packet and a vape over to the other boy, a street away from their house. "However, you'll want to hide them from dad, he doesn't want me to be a, 'bad influence'" he said in air quotes.

"I think he's a little late for that worry," Tommy joked.

They made it back into the house, using the front door as Phil already knew they 'snuck' out.

"Shit. We should have gone to the bakery, we could have gotten extra brownie points with Phil," Wilbur whisper cursed as the genius idea hint him just as they walked through the door.

"Bit to late to turn back now," Tommy said between grit teeth as the very same man sat in front of them.

"...Morning Dad!" Wilbur greeted cheerfully, passing him a can of iced coffee, before speaking once more, "Is Techno up? Got something for him too,"

"No, and your both grounded. Wilbur, you know the curfew rules.Tommy, you don't, so most of the blame lies on Wil, but you're also grounded." Phil finished.

Wilbur groaned, Tommy stared at the both.

"I'm confused, what happens when we're grounded?" Tommy asked carefully, backing up against the door.

"We're both taking over the rest of the chores for the week, and we're not allowed out with friends for the week," Wilbur explained turning to Tommy.

Tommy nodded in response. This was... well, rather tame compared to other foster homes.

"That reminds me, Tommy, your social worker is turning up at some point this week," Phil told Tommy.

Tommy nodded again, "Can I go upstairs?"

"Nope, I know you've both been up all night, so as extra punishment, you can get started on chores now!" Phil smiled at them both.

They both groaned in usion.

It was past midday, Wilbur and him had done all of the chores for the day by now. Wilbur was finishing up on hand-washing the last of the dishes as Phil insisted he did.

Tommy and Techno were on the settee together, watching some random horror film Techno picked. It wasn't very good in Tommy's opinion, but it was putting him to sleep. He hadn't slept all day, he was used to not sleeping for days on end, but living with this family, he got used to it. Too comfortable, as the others inside his head reminded him frequently.

Tommy was leaning into the settee arm, cuddled up under a fluffy grey blanket, sleep eventually taking him.

Presumably, not long after, he woke up to his cheeks damp, most likely Techno covering his ears, holding him tightly to ground him. His vision blurry, but he could see into the kitchen, Wilbur and Phil yelling back and forth, their words inaudible. Wilbur stormed off dropping a plate, and it shattering under the force of colliding with the marble floor.

Techno uncovered his ears just as Wilbur shut his door, a bit too hard. Techno was scowling at Phil, shaking his head at him.

Phil's eyes were sunken, more than usual, he just shook his head and walked off to his office under the stairs that led to the basement.

"What happened?" Tommy asked groggily.

"Phil and Wil just having one of their rows as usual. It's a miracle they lasted this long without one, they didn't want to scare you but here we are." Techno sighed, letting go of Tommy so he could move away if he wished.

Tommy stayed curled up to Techno, he was warm and comfortable.

"...Is it my fault they're arguing?" Tommy asked, tracing circles mindlessly into Techno's arm.

"No, of course it isn't," Techno reassured before sighing, "Phil just isn't happy about Wilbur dragging you into his bad habits."

"It was my choice," Tommy huffed annoyed.

"I know, he's just stressed out with work and is worried about all of us. Go back to sleep, it'll be okay." Techno said, running his hand through the blonds hair, "You remind me of Theseus sometimes," he mumbled.

Tommy was asleep in minutes, laid in his brother's arms comfortably.

Tommy woke up in his own bed, the window now closed. He picked up the journal and begun writing.

Tommy XX/XX/XX

It's been an okay day I suppose. I haven't slept much (sorry sam), we hung out with Wilbur for most of the night and morning, stuck doing chores. We're also grounded which means we've taken over chores with Wilbur. Although its worth it, we've got a pack of gold marlboros + a vape (Tubbo will be happy.) Our social worker will be visiting this week as well! I'm so glad its summer. The job application has been submitted, we should apply to more jobs though. Wilbur and Phil apparently fight a lot, they got into a screaming match today. I think Wilbur's mad at me for it.

Chapter Text

Tommy was sat awake, the sun bleeding through the curtains, he was unsure of how long he had been dissociating for. Sighing, he opened the journal, seeing the last entry was from him, regarding the other day.

Clumsily, he climbed out of the bed, his body still feeling uncomfortably heavy with every step he took. He walked over to his wardrobe, picking out some blue jeans, a graphic tee and slipping on his red knock-off converse shoes.

Checking the time, it was only 6 am. No one else in the house would be up until 7, he remembered this from yesterday morning. Quietly, he made his way downstairs. Grabbing a scrap piece of paper, he jotted down a quick message, "Hi, ran out to the bakery to check on my application, I'll be back before 8 am, I have my phone on me too. — Tommy"

Placing the black ballpoint pen back down, he grabbed his set of keys off the hook, and as quietly as humanly possible, he unlocked the front door, and left the house, cringing at every loud creaking and clicking noise the ancient door made.

Standing outside the house, Tommy sighed, breathing in the fresh air. He began the walk to Niki's bakery.

It didn't take long for him to get there, she didn't usually open at this time, but hopefully she'd make an exception for him. He pushed on the door, delighted it opened.

"Hey! We're closed until 8!" Niki called out from the back, her shoes loudly hitting against the floor as she rounded the corner.

"Morning," Tommy grinned at her.

"...Rules still apply to you too, Tommy," she laughed light heartedly.

"Sorry, I wanted to check in on my application and maybe buy something,"

"Oh! Yes, sorry, I'm still going over your application. I've been swamped in orders recently."

"It's fine, don't worry about it. Are you sure you don't want some help now?"

She let out a loud, grateful noise, "God, yes please. Mum's sick and dad's still out of town so it's just me here,"

Tommy smiled, following her round to the back. He had a fairly decent amount of experience in baking from one of his older but better homes. The mum at the house often taught him how to bake, they ended up baking bread every other Sunday together. It's a rather bittersweet memory now.

It was 07:45 by the time they had finish decorating and placing all the pastries in the front. Both of their aprons covered in flour from Tommy spilling the flour whilst measuring some of it out for the cookie recipe. Tommy's phone rang loudly just as he put the apron into the washing machine, as instructed by Niki. Pulling his phone out of his jeans pocket, it was Phil calling him.

"Hey mate," Phil spoke tiredly.

"Morning, sorry, I'm still with Niki, I was helping her set up,"

"Oh perfect mate, thats why I rang, was gonna ask if you could pick up a coffee for me on your way back."

"Yeah, that's fine, just send me it in a message, please. As well as what to get the other two." Tommy said, feeling a small pang in his chest as he mentioned the other two boys.

Hanging up the phone after saying bye to Phil, he sighed. Wilbur was still ignoring him after yesterday, maybe the pastry and a hot drink would suffice as an apology.

His phone pinged, an order list, along with Phil telling him he transferred money over to cover the cost.

Quickly, he payed for food, Niki thanked him again for his help, applying a workers discount to his order unbeknownst to him.

Leaving the bakery, he began his short journey home. Shortly after, he opened the door, Phil was stood in the kitchen waiting for him, grabbing the bag off of him and placing it on the table.

"Sorry for leaving so early without actually telling you, I didn't want to wake you," Tommy apologised sincerely.

"It's alright, Toms, you technically told me, just try not to make a habit of leaving in the early morning,"

Phil shouted the other boys down. Techno came down, his pink hair loosely braided, Wilbur coming down after him, his brown curly hair a mess.

"Morning," Tommy greeted.

"Morning," he thinks Techno responded, unsure underneath the low grunting he made.

Wilbur chose to ignore the youngest just as Tommy expected, shoving past the youngest to grab his drink and pastry, mumbling a quick thanks before heading back upstairs. Techno stayed down and ate the lemon pastry, making small talk with him and Phil.

Once Phil finished up his pastry, he rushed out an apology before locking himself in his office.

"Hey, Tech, can I ask you something?"

"You just did, but sure."

"... Is Wilbur mad at me?" he whispered.

"Huh? No, he just gets like that sometimes, it's best to just leave him alone when he is." Techno informed the other.

Tommy pulled a face, unsure of what to say or how to process this information. That he just had to cope with the other boy hating him, and avoiding his entire existence.

Silently, he nodded, and made his way upstairs and sat in his room.

It was late now, the sun had set a few hours prior. Phil and Techno tried to get him to come down, but he refused. What was the point going somewhere when he isn't wanted there?

He laid sprawled across the floor, the cold wooden floorboards were comforting to him. They were cold and grounding against his back.

He sat up and crawled awkwardly to his bedside drawer, his hand hovering over the vape for a moment before remembering *he* bought it, and settling on his usual pack of cigarettes and lighter. Shutting the drawer, crawling over to the window, propping it up slightly.

Pulling out the first cigarette, lighting it. He had been smoking more and more often, he doesn't know why but this house made him want to smoke but not in a slowly killing himself way like the other homes did. Taking drag after drag of the cigarette, his mind felt fuzzy, the thoughts coming back to him all at once.

None of them like him in this home nor want him here, why would they? He's just a useless fuck up. He ruins everything.

Wilbur hates him. It's all his fault he hates him, he should have intervened.

Techno doesn't give a shit about him. Of course he wouldn't, he never did. He only showed faux kindness to manipulate him like everyone else.

Phil just took him in because he was forced too. No one would ever want him, the orphanage was right. He's a waste of fucking space.

Everyone hates him, even the system hate him. He knows they're conspiring against him, he's heard them whispering about him before over and over again. 'Tommy's not safe' 'Tommy's not stable' 'He's not a good host, we need to get rid of him!'

Everyone would prefer him dead, so why not grant them their wish? It's the least he could do after being so ungrateful to them.

These thoughts looped over and over like an echo chamber. His eyes brimming with tears, he pushed the cigarette out on his pale, unblemished thigh, a feeble attempt to ground himself. He held back a yell, as he further pushed the cigarette into himself.

This repeated for the next couple of cigarettes, until it no longer brought the mental relief he was so desperately trying to achieve. Now it just hurt like a bitch as he sat in the moonlight. Four fresh cigarette burns, two on each thigh. A reminder that everyone hated him and there is nothing he can do about it.

He sat there for a while, his head leaning against the window sill, hopelessly, he tried to will his body to move, stand up and wash the burns and bandage them but it was futile. It felt like hours had past before he could even more his hand to close the box of cigarettes.

Tommy awkwardly stood up, pulling on the burns as he did so, he hobbled to the bathroom, passing by Techno's open bedroom door. He must be up working still. Making his way into the bathroom, he sat on the closed toilet lid, grabbing a wash cloth, and running it under cold water and holding it to the fresher burns, before grabbing another wash cloth and doing the same with the other burns.

It wasn't long before someone was knocking on the door.

"Hurry up, I need the bathroom," Techno called out.

"Fuck off," he responded.

"Tommy, don't be rude just cause your hangry." Techno lectured him.

Tommy picked up thr wash cloths from his leg, throwing them into the washing basket, patting his legs dry before swinging open the bathroom door.

"Happy?" Tommy asked smiling.

"What the fuck happened to your thighs?" Techno immediately pointed out.

"Nothing, piss off and mind your own business." he stormed off to his room.

Quite a few days had passed and Wilbur still wasn't talking to him. It was late afternoon and the others had already eaten. Tommy refused to eat still, Phil had already threatened to call Puffy and his social worker if he didn't eat by tomorrow. He knew he was bluffing though, it'd make Phil look bad if he did that.

Why could no one else see it? He was in the right; they where all in the wrong.

Sighing, he got up, grabbing the unopened vape box. He didn't want it considering he gave it to him. Wilbur could stick the damn thing where the sun doesn't shine for all he cares. He doesn't want anything to do with the other boy after his outburst.

Tommy stood up, waltzing out of his room, the landing being coloured golden, as the sun was beginning to set. He knocked on the elder's door. He could hear the other boy, reluctantly, stand up, unlocking and opening his door.

"Fuck off Tommy, I don't want to speak to you," Wilbur told him bitterly, beginning to close his door.

Quickly, Tommy put his foot in the way before the door fully closed, using his hand, he pushed the door open.

"You can have this back, asshat" Tommy held out the unopened vape box.

"Seriously?" the others bitter tone continued.

"Yeah, if you're gonna ignore me and act like I don't exist, I don't want you in my life either,"

"You're acting like such a fucking child, Tommy,"

"Well that's rich coming from you!" Tommy yelled before lowering his voice once more, "You got grounded and you've taking it out on me."

"It's your fault I got yelled at,"

"How in the fucking nine circles of hell is it my fault you got yelled at for some dumb shit you did?"

"Because everything is always your fault! None of us fucking want you here anyways, Dad only took you in because the orphanage fucking forced him into caring for your ungrateful ass!" Wilbur yelled, he was beginning to see red.

"... What?" Tommy paused for a moment.

His eyes glassed over, he was right, like always. None of them like him, none of them want him around.

"Is that what you think? Huh?" Tommy yelled back pushing the door open with a strength he didn't know he had.

Wilbur backed up, his heart beating faster seeing the younger, scrawny blonde haired kid coming at him with an unfiltered rage in his pale blue eyes.

Tommy grabbed an empty glass sat on the Tv stand.

"What? Cat got your tongue now? Say it again, I fucking dare you Wilbur, I fucking dare you." Tommy bellowed, grasping the glass as if his life depended on it.

"You're a worthless piece of fucking shit, Tommy! I wish you were dead! Techno does and so does Phil! There, is that what you wanted to hear?" Wilbur yelled back, their yells drowning out the flurry of steps up the stairs.

Tommy swung the glass aiming for Wilbur's head. Luckily for him, he didn't have good aim when he went berserk. The glass hit the wall next to Wilbur's head, narrowly missing after he titled his head, a piece of glass cutting the others shoulder. One of the glass pieces landed on the floor nearby Tommy. Without missing a beat, he grabbed a rather large shard, holding up to his throat.

"You want me dead that badly?" he questioned, digging the shard into his throat, blood trickling down his hand as he clutched the shard harder.

Wilbur stayed silent, wide-eyed like a deer in headlights.

"Tommy," he stuttered, "I didn't mean it, I'm sorry. Please put the glass down." he pleaded desperately.

"You don't get to apologise now!" Tommy shouted, dragging the glass across his throat slowly, digging the glass into his skin, his face stone cold, glaring at the brown headed boy.

Wilbur lunged at Tommy, toppling them both down, Techno running up and pinning Tommy's arm down with some resistance. Phil was stood at the railings on the phone to someone, talking in hushed tones that felt so far away and underwater to Tommy.

"What the fuck, Toms?" Techno asked, overpowering the younger despite his rage filled strength.

Tommy couldn't say anything. No words would come out.

"Tommy?" someone inside called out.

"Tommy?!" they began yelling as the body slipped into unconsciousness.

Chapter Text

Ranboo opened their eyes, a scratchy, white blanket laid over them, harsh white lights beaming down on them. His wrists held to the bed by restraints. Someone was resting on his legs as the door opened, the person jolting upwards.

"Ah, you're awake," the nurse spoke softly, walking over to check his vitals, "Are you experiencing any pain?"

Ranboo stared at her blankly, words unable to form.

The nurse nodded softly, lowering the pain medication slightly.

"I need to check your wounds, okay?"

Ranboo nodded this time. Her hands unravelled the bandages on his neck, gently cleaning the area, Techno looked away from the scene, his face scrunched up as if trying to erase it from his memory.

Finally, the nurse left after rebandaging his wound.

"Tommy," Techno whispered, his voice cracking, tears pooling in his eyes.

Quickly, Techno stood up, walking over to the boy, wrapping his arms around him gently, sobbing into the boy's blonde hair.

"T-echno?" Ranboo asked gruffly.

"You scared us all half to death, I'm so glad you're okay," he told him between the cracks of his voice.

"Wh-at happen-ed?" Ranboo asked, struggling to produce words.

"I don't know, you went batshit with Wilbur and tried to kill yourself," he informed, pulling the chair closer to Tommy this time.

"Tommy..." Ranboo thought.

There was no response.

"I'm sorry." Ranboo said softly, getting used to speaking again.

Techno nodded, interlocking their hands as the rest of the family walked in. They all sat around him, Wilbur hung at the back of the room, his eyes red and puffy. Phil hugged the younger boy, holding him tightly to his chest.

A doctor walked in this time, "I'm sorry, but I'm going to have to ask you all to leave so I can perform a psychiatric evaluation," she informed them kindly.

Solemnly, they all nodded, Phil looked over at 'Tommy', "We'll be back soon, okay?"

Ranboo nodded, watching the three men leave.

"Hi, Tommy, I'm Dr Sierra, and I'll be doing your evaluation for today. Everything you say is confidential and will not go back to your family unless you're a danger to yourself or others, does this make sense?"

Ranboo nodded.

"So, can you tell me why you're here today?"

"I'm not sure. I don't remember anything. Techno told me I tried to kill myself," he mumbled looking down at his restraints.

"Correct, your family told us that you weren't acting your usual self for the past few weeks, withdrawing from them. Did you want to kill yourself that morning?"

"No." Ranboo said sternly, the memories slowly coming to him, "I was overwhelmed and wasn't in a good headspace."

Dr Sierra nodded, "Mhm. Could you elaborate on this headspace you were in?"

"I... I was angry at Wilbur." Ranboo paused for a long moment, trying to make sense of everything, "We both said some horrible things to each other. It simply confirmed everything I was already thinking. All I could think was, 'I'm hated here, I'd be better off dead'."

She nodded, jotting down what he said on to her clipboard. "Has this happened before?"

"No,"

"Do you have any plans to harm yourself or others?"

"No."

"Has your psychiatrist Dr Puffy, told you of her suspected diagnosis for you?"

Ranboo cautiously shook his head.

"She suspects you may have dissociative amnesia, borderline personality disorder and an eating disorder. We're likely going to section you to run a few diagnostic tests for you and for your safety to monitor your condition. We may put you on medication on to manage your symptoms,"

They blanked everything else that she said. The words 'sectioned' echoed around their head. Not again. Not again. Not again. Their breathing picked up, the room was spinning.

"Hey, Tommy, take a few deep breaths. Follow my breathing, you're okay, you're safe." she instructed, guiding him through the panic attack.

"Are you okay?" she questioned.

"S-sorry."

She nodded jotting down another note, before leaving the room. Ranboo fell back asleep in no time, the Watson's sat around him, idly chatting.

Sitting up straight in their bed, they felt drowsy. This new medication worsened their dissociation, and without their journal, they couldn't keep track of the day or who was fronting. They felt like shit. Ungraciously, they wobbled over to the bathroom staring at themselves in the mirror. A large, puffy purple scar ran across half their neck, their eyes appeared sunken and void of light. Absentmindedly, they ran their finger over the scar, wincing at the taunt skin.

The doctors told them they'd been here for a few weeks, and were due for another evaluation to see if they were fit to leave. They didn't care how the medication made them feel as long as they were 'safe' they kept reminding them.

However, it wasn't all bad, they were still seeing Puffy, she diagnosed them with BPD and dissociative amnesia. 

Would it be a good idea to open up to her? she thought.

A doctor walked over to them, "Follow me, it's time for you session."

Stumbling, they followed after them, bumping into corners of furniture and door frames frequently. Finally, they made it to the counseling room where Puffy was sat waiting for them.

"How are you feeling today, Ţ̸̯͈̰̳̠͂̌o̴̯̭̱̜͍̗̭͕͕̓̊̊̈́̆̽̅̍̕m̷̮͍̲̟͖̥̄̽͆̒͠m̴̱̪̗̳̫̬͚̼̺̉̏͑y̸͙͔͒̀̔̏̈́̊̓́̋?"

"I don't know. This medication is making my dissociation worse." they told truthfully.

"We can try lowering the dose, see if that helps."

"I don't feel like I'm myself anymore," Ċ̴̞͇͓̼͓̬̭̖̟͒̒͜͝ḹ̵̠̝̰͂̔̈́͐̂͗ͅe̵̡̡̙̫͔͍̳̔͑̀͑͗̌͆̐͝m̸̺̤̖̗̼̟͉͒́̓͑̽͌̅͝ę̷̟̞̗̳͚̗̗̐̀͂̏̔̒̂̈͜ͅņ̵̛̦̞̠̲͔̥̭͕̺̐͐͑́̍̑̾͆͘ţ̵͇͎̭̗̜̞̜̉̓̄͗̽̒͠͝͝i̴̛̪̲̒̒͆͆̀͘͝ͅn̵̺͓̠̥̣̦̝͙̙̏̋̅̈́̇̅̀̍̚ę̴̧̨̛̙͈̫̜̤͐̀̊̽̆̓͊͠͝ mumbled, picking at the skin on her fingers.

"What do you mean by that?" she asked as patience as ever.

"I don't think I'm Tommy?" Ċ̴̞͇͓̼͓̬̭̖̟͒̒͜͝ḹ̵̠̝̰͂̔̈́͐̂͗ͅe̵̡̡̙̫͔͍̳̔͑̀͑͗̌͆̐͝m̸̺̤̖̗̼̟͉͒́̓͑̽͌̅͝ę̷̟̞̗̳͚̗̗̐̀͂̏̔̒̂̈͜ͅņ̵̛̦̞̠̲͔̥̭͕̺̐͐͑́̍̑̾͆͘ţ̵͇͎̭̗̜̞̜̉̓̄͗̽̒͠͝͝i̴̛̪̲̒̒͆͆̀͘͝ͅn̵̺͓̠̥̣̦̝͙̙̏̋̅̈́̇̅̀̍̚ę̴̧̨̛̙͈̫̜̤͐̀̊̽̆̓͊͠͝ said

"What name would you like to go by then?"

"Clementine." she mumbled, feeling a weight lift of her chest.

"How long have you felt like this Clementine?" 

"A while. I formed when we were younger. There's more of us I think, but they don't know about me."

"Do the Watsons know?" Puffy asked cautiously.

"No, and I want it to stay like that."

"That's alright, this can stay between us. Who are these other people?"

"There's Tommy, he fronts the most. He's the reason we're in here. There's Ranboo, Tubbo and Sam, they all help to keep us alive and functioning." Clem told Puffy truthfully, waiting for her reaction.

She nodded carefully, "Do you know what you role is or the others?"

"I hold our trauma and protect us from it happening again. We've been in a ward before and it wasn't great, so I've been stuck dealing with our time here. Tubbo deals with most of our depression so Toms can function, Ranboo is similar but he deals with our anxiety and they step in when someone wants to hurt us. I think they might be a protector? Sam manages everything and decides who deals with what and when we can front. I don't like him."

"You've done a great job of explaining everything for me, Clementine. Do you have memories of them when they're here?" Puffy asked, jotting down everything Clem told her.

"No. I'm blocked off from the rest of them. I remember everything, I was the first of us to gain consciousness as everything started happening. I've never been truly aware of the others like they're aware of each other. All I know of them is from our journal back at home, yet I don't dare to introduce myself to them. Sam won't let me."

She nodded her head slowly, as tears fell down Clem's face. "Have we met before?" she asked abruptly, recalling some of their first sessions.

"I think so?" Clem questioned herself, "I told you about our abuse in other houses,"

"Correct, you did. Based on everything you've told me, I suspect you may have a dissociative disorder. Have you heard of them before?" Puffy asked, putting her notebook down.

"No, what is it?"

"It's where the brain splits off memories when it's still developing to cope with trauma. It creates dissociative barriers between parts so no one is aware of them, it's a safety mechanism to keep the person safe during times of intense trauma."

She nodded slowly, taking in the information.

"I can do a few diagnostic assessments with you to determine where you land on the dissociative scale to know what we're working with, but it'll take time to have a full diagnosis. For now, I won't write anything on your chart till we're certain." Puffy told her calmly, grabbing her tablet and printing an assessment off.

Clementine grabbed the set of papers, and the pen Puffy held out to her as she started filling out the questionnaire. It didn't take long until she was finished.

"Here," she spoke softly, passing the paper for marking.

Puffy sat in silence totaling the score, "Based on your answers it's likely you have OSDD — other specified dissociative disorder. You don't qualify for DID due to your lack of blackout amnesia. We'll get your medication dose lowered, and we'll have another meeting next week to determine if you can go home, alright?"

"Yes, thank you," she nodded.

"Before you go, take this to journal track who you are while you're in here,"

Clem nodded, thanking her once more as she was escorted back to her room.