Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It's kind of weird to think about. Tubbo has been to 10 homes and still has not found his forever family. Though from what he first heard when starting out, it was not abnormal for a foster kid. Some foster families would be rude and awful to him. He knew those families would never be long term. Others would be kind, but they would eventually get rid of him. Maybe that's just who Tubbo is. 

Puffy likes to tell him that's not true. That those people just dont know the real Tubbo. Puffy also once stole his ice-cream scoop, and it was chocolate chip too. So, he can't exactly trust her. 

Something Tubbo could never understand was his foster siblings. All of his new siblings would be cruel and unwilling to show excitement for a new sibling. The only nice thing a sibling of his ever did for him was give Tubbo a stuffed teddy bear. Tubbo cherished and loved that teddy bear, so he kept it away from most of his foster parents. He had seen firsthand what showing an old toy could do. Thankfully, nothing ever got too serious before he was pulled out of his home. Puffy said they would find him a home eventually. Tubbo thought that day would never come. 

"Tubbo." Puffy said sternly, looking in the rearview mirror for the ongoing traffic. 

Tubbo looked up and opened his mouth, but nothing seemed to come out. Puffy looked at him with sad eyes. He looked at his lap, his hands playing with his stuffed teddy bear. Tubbo had named his teddy bear Benson after an old duck his momma had. Puffy sighed. 

"Tubbo, I know your scared honey, but I promise that one day we will find you the perfect home. You just have to be patient. Who knows, maybe this one will be the one."

"Have I not been patient? I've been to ten homes, and they all sent me back with...." Tubbo couldn't even be bothered to say bruises, nor could he want to even look at them. They reminded him of what they did, and he never enjoyed the idea of thinking about those people. 

"I know bud," Puffy spoke softly. "You just have to believe that this will be your forever home. I bet you are going find a family that loves you just as much as I do. Twenty-five years from now, you will look back and remember this day!"

Tubbo was silent. He held Benson tighter, staring out the window as the blurs of trees and cars passed by. Puffy has said that every time and it has not once come true. She used to tell him that his parents would be so proud of him to have come so far, but he keeps getting kicked out. I mean honestly, how stupid does Puffy think he is? Tubbo has no idea what his future would hold and that scares him. But what can he do about it? Hes just Tubbo. Just....

"Hey Tubbo!"

Tubbo looked up at Puffy to meet her eyes in the mirror. Their at a redlight, so Puffy reaches to the seat next to her and pulls out her captains hat. Tubbo allows himself a small smile. Puffy brings the hat with her and special cases like Tubbo. She puts on a persona-Captain Puffy of the Southern Seas-and Tubbo loves it. 

"C-Captain Puffy?" Tubbo asks timidly.

"Aye matey! Ready for your next adventure?"

Tubbo almost giggles, before he stills. The sound gets caught in his throat.

"Useless brat. What's the point in having you here if you can't do one simple fucking thing. Why did I even bother. Go to your room before I beat the servant into you!"

"I-I..I-I'm s-sorry s-"

"And get rid of that stupid stutter."

Tubbo drops his eyes and loses his smile. Puffy visibly deflates and sighs. They drove in silence for a while. The car suddenly came to a stop Puffy stepped out and picked Tubbo up into her arms. The 12-year-old boy was pretty short. Tubbo looked around. The house was big and mansion-like. There was a garden in the front. The beautiful wisteria seemed to bloom in the sun. He gently reached from Puffys arms to touch a pedal. It showered with sunlight as it moved from his fingertips. Pretty. He looked at the porch. The door was painted a light blue, almost white at an angle. It overall looked like a very nice house. That doesnt mean the people inside are the same.

Puffy walked up to the door and pressed the doorbell. She set Tubbo down as they waited. He clung to her dress tightly, his fingers curling around the yellow fabric. It was a few seconds before the door opened, and Tubbo immediately tensed. There stood a short man. He had a kind face, a warm smile that crinkles. His eyes were a shade a blue, and his blond hair was put into a ponytail. Overall he looked nice. Tubbo knew better to guess though. 

"Welcome! Please, come inside. You must be Puffy?"

"Yup, I'm the caseworker. This here is Tubbo, he's a little shy."

Tubbo hid and Puffy frowned. He was scared of the man before him. Thoughts were racing through Tubbo's head. What if he was like them? What if he took Benson, or took his clothes? What if he made him sleep outside? Or worse, what if he was like him?

They stepped inside. The entry way was nice, though cluttered with shoes. Dance shoes, a literal violin, coats. Puffy took off her own shoes before taking off Tubbos for him. Tubbo held her hand as the man led them past the entry way and to a nice living area. the kitchen was next to it, and it looked like it was stocked high with food. Tubbo would know what to avoid then. 

"So I'm Philza Watson, though just Phil is fine. I have two sons Techno and Wilbur. They should be upstairs."

Oh great, brothers. Maybe they will send him back quicker. Still, Tubbo doesn't want to be on their bad side. 

They were led to the couches. Phil gestured for them to have a seat. Puffy took a seat on the couch, and Tubbo took a seat on the floor. 

He felt both pairs of eyes turn to him, and he ducked his head in embarrassment. Puffy sighed and Phil's eyes widened. 

"Oh buddy, it's okay. You can sit next to me." Puffy reassured. 

Tubbo bit his lip, not exactly convinced, but did what she said non the less. 

Phil cleared his throat and smiled once again. "So, I assume there's paperwork to fill out?"

Puffy nodded. "Yes, though it would be better if Tubbo wasn't here to listen to anything. There are things we have to discuss."

Tubbo held Benson a little tighter. Phil just nodded. 

"I have an office down the hall. I could call my sons downstairs to give him a tour?"

"What do you think about that Tubbo?" she asked the boy as she looked down at him. 

Tubbo timidly nodded. Get on their good side and stay on it. 

Phil got up and went to the bottom of the stairs. "Wilbur, Techno, come down. The caseworker and your foster brother are here!" he yelled up. 

Tubbo clung to Puffy even more as he heard footsteps make their way down. The first one to come into view was one with a bubbly personality. He had short, curly brown hair and gold rimmed glasses in circles. Behind him though was someone far more intimidating. This one was taller, though looked all the more like his twin. Instead of the others big, friendly smile, his mouth was pressed in a straight line. He had red eyes, contacts most likely, and long pink hair. He dressed like a poet, Tubbo mused. 

The bubbly one bounded over to him with pep in his step. "Hi! I'm Wilbur. Thats Techno, my younger brother." Techno gave a small wave. "Though if you ask him, he says he's the older twin." Wilbur whispered. 

Tubbo nodded. So, don't bring up the twin thing in case of a fight? He could do that. Puffy and Phil left for his office to discuss his casefile, and Wilbur started showing him around with Techno trailing close behind. The house was bigger than Tubbo thought, though he did see the outside. They took him around the main floor, skipping over the hallway so he didn't hear Puffy talk. They explained the system in the kitchen. 

"Everything is free game as long as it doesn't have a name on it. Like for example, no one touches my cocoa puffs. Techno?"

"Just don't touch my potatoes."

Tubbo nodded. He wouldn't be touching anything then. 

They took him upstairs. He was shown Wilbur's room, which was a mess by all accords. Music scores and instruments thrown everywhere over piles of clothes. He was shown briefly Techno's room. They were polar opposites. He was shown Phils room, which looked all nice and cozy. A friendly reminder of where he would never be allowed. 

"Just make sure to knock before you enter a room. Privacy and all that. Same applies to you."

Tubbo would ignore that last part because it didn't apply to him. 

He was then shown to another room. It was bare, had a nice bed, and a wooden desk. He wondered whose room it was. The confusion must have shown on his face, because Techno visibly frowned. Wilbur didn't really notice though. His next words hit Tubbo right in the face. 

"This is your room. Customize it however you want. Dad will probably take you shopping."

Tubbo blinked. I'm sorry? He looked at the room, and then to his foster brothers. He was silent for a couple minutes; he blinked back tears. 

"T-this is mine?"

The brothers felt their hearts clench. Wilbur oh so wanted to hug the boy, but boundaries. So, he nodded with enthusiasm. Techno followed. 

"Of course. This is your room for as long as your stay is."

Tubbo walked in and felt the bed. It was a nice texture, wool. Soft. Comfortable. Something he never deserved and will never deserve. He nodded at the brothers, neither mentioned his tears.

When they walked back downstairs, they sat and waited in silence. Puffy came out with Phil a few minutes later, Phil having a tense smile on his face. 

"I'm leaving Tubbo." Puffy informed. 

Tubbo nodded sniffly and got up to hug her close. 

"You stay safe, you hear me?" she whispered as she rubbed his back.

Tubbo nodded and she got her coat on and tied up her boots. She slipped on her gloves, grabbed her wool hat, and waved goodbye, with a promise of calling in to check on Tubbo. 

"See you later matey."

Tubbo giggled, and seemingly did not see the fond looks he got behind him. 

They had dinner, in which Tubbo was given such amazing spaghetti. Honestly, they should have it more often. Tubbo didn't understand why he was being treated with kindness so far, but now that Puffy was gone, it had to end soon. Right?

They sat around for a while, Wilbur trying to get to know Tubbo. He asked about Benson, which made Tubbo hold him protectively. Techno asked if he ever played videogames. Tubbo responded with a no, and Techno said he would teach him the ways of bed wars. 

"You'll love it." Techno smiled. 

"We also have to get you a backpack." Phil semi yelled from the kitchen. 

"A backpack?" Tubbo asked. 

"Well yeah, you start school in two days."

Tubbo blinked. 

Ew

Chapter Text

The door creaked open with a loud hiss, the floorboards shifting under his weight. He poked his head into the hall, before walking out and closing the door behind him gently. He walked slowly down the quiet hallway, his ears picking up any noise. The occasional caw of some bird, the flutter of the wind a whisp around outside. But no voices. Not a deep man's voice telling his wife goodnight and kissing her on the cheek, subsequently forgetting about his son just a few doors down. No woman laughing with him, reaching over the bed to turn the lamp off and getting trapped in her husband's arms. It was just quiet. Though, that does not surprise him much.

He walked down the hall to his parents' bedroom, unclicking the door and slowly opened it. The bed was neatly made, no human shaped lump in sight. He blinked as his eyes widened and a lump formed in his throat. Sweat dripped down his forehead as he headed downstairs, content on checking the whole house for a sign of a soul. None of which he found. 

It was inevitable really. They leave, and he should have expected that it would be for good. Not even a note this time. He went back upstairs and checked his parents' room again. Their passports are gone as well as some bare essentials.

The boy's heart rate quickened, and a small tear welled in his eyes. He shouldn't be shocked, he shouldn't be. He could fend for himself. Maybe some random person would be shitty enough to hire a 12-year-old. But it just hurts. It's not like he had a great life with his parents. They did the bare essentials, so he supposes he should be grateful. He has food to eat, shelter, education, and parents.... maybe not loving ones, but he thinks they still care. 

He hopedhopes they still care. 

He closed all the drawers, put everything back the way he found it, and marched back to his room. He closed the door as gently as he did before and got in bed. The covers felt cold next to the barren waste of love that his parents should have provided from the moment he breathed. But who is he to waste warmth, such a precious source of comfort in this world.

The stars twinkled out the window, ones you can't usually see in L'manburg thanks to light pollution.  They look pretty, nonetheless. 

He grabbed his spider plush, one he named Shroud. Its eyes a deep red, and its body of voidful black. This plush has been through it, but it holds more memories than he's ever made with his parents. 

Tommy wake up!

He stared at the ceiling, waiting for sleep to cover his eyes like a soft blanket that just makes you feel colder inside. He takes a deep breath, his chest moving with every rise and fall. To be someone that just does that without thinking has to mean something, and he doesn't know how. Because no one ever wanted him. Maybe his eyes should shed a tear at the thought, or maybe he's run out. Maybe the one tear already fallen has said enough for now. 

TOMMY

Whatever the case-

WAKE UP WAKE UP WAKE UP WAKE UP WAKE UP

Maybe one day he'll mean something to someone

And as the shrill beep of an alarm pierces his ears, his eyes close.

-*^*-

School had always been something that Tubbo disliked. It wasn't the thought of going to school itself, rather the students there. Very few of them would be kind to a dumb fosterkid when they had the loving parents Tubbo always thought he would one day receive. Most would do subtle things, try to trip him in the hall, steal his pencils. Some would call him names, such as Laundry Bear, Street Rat, Useless. He recalled one kid at his last school named Roman who would be the pinnacle of 90's highschool bully every chance he got, and they weren't even in highschool. Nothing hurt more than going home to a foster parent to ask for help, only to be told to deal with it himself or just fuck off. And Tubbo tried, and tried, and tried. But kids are mean. Their relentless. They don't like being told no, especially by someone who doesn't even have a mom or a dad. He tried once to grab his fostermom and pull her out the door. That had been a mistake, one that costed him his fosterhome and delivered him a throbbing black eye. 

So Tubbo was not excited for this new school. He didn't make any friends at his last one, he wouldn't here. Maybe the teachers were at least something. It was always like a game to them. See what students they could fish out and make bets on their grades. At least thats Tubbos experience. Not a memeory hes fond off. 

He woke up bright and early on his own accord, getting use to the feeling in group homes and it never truly left him. Tubbo groggily opened to eyes and reached for his phone on the bed-side table with a stretch. His phone read 6:00 AM. According to what he learned from Phil over the past two days, who kept insisting to Tubbo that he call him that instead of "sir" or "Mr. Watson", Tubbo started school at 8:00. The Highschool and Middle School were connected since it's the smaller side of town, so Wilbur and Techno wouldn't have to drop him off and leave. 

He got up, pulling the sheets off with little vigor. His put the sheets back in place when he was standing, folding them under the bed. He then took out clothes. Yesterday, Phil took him shopping for things. Wilbur tagged along too. Apparently he's the only one in the family with "taste" if anyone can call it that. He was thrown into the dressing room of a target with 6 pairs of jeans and sweatpants and a couple shirts that probably cost more than Tubbo's life. He tried them on as Phil urged him too, and it covered a lot of his beat-up frame. It made him look less like a fosterkid and more like someone who actually gets fed on a regular basis. 

He stared at himself in the mirror, sort of in awe at the kid in front of him. A kid forced to grow up way to fast in a world that was anything but kind to him. He could no longer see the protruding shells of his ribcage that was covered more by a baggy shirt. 

The pants were a little big, but he didn't need a lot. So, he went out and gave what he wanted to Phil, and what he didn't need he left on a clothesline outside the dressing rooms. Wilbur tried to get him new shoes, but Tubbo declined over and over, saying he they didn't need to waste that money on him. 

He missed the sad looks his fosterdad and brother shared, instead looking at the tiles of the store, counting them as he walked. It kept his braining busy. They payed at the register, and Tubbo knows Phil tried to keep him from seeing how much the price was. It made guilt churn in Tubbos gut. But Wilbur's smile made him shrug it off as he was pulled into the next store.  

Tubbo also tried to deny furniture, which was not sliding with Phil, so they bought a chair, toys for fidgeting which he's so excited to try, and some sheets for his bed. Wilbur tried to sneak a phone, but Tubbo caught him and made him put it back. 

"Are you sure you don't want a phone?" Phil asked as he kneeled in front of Tubbo. "It would be yours to keep. It's also a way for you to contact the three of us in case of emergency, or just to talk."

Tubbo bit his lip. On one hand, it does seem nice. On the other, it would just be another thing for them to hold over his head. He doesn't want strings attached to this family, regardless of how nice they are.

So back to the present, Tubbo got dressed in some of his new clothes and brushed his teeth in the bathroom. He shared one with Techno, which is why it's also a good idea to wake up this early. He doesn't want to intrude on the man's space. He takes a brush and comes through his messy hair. He brushed it till he felt his hair fall over his eyes, and he doesn't move a hand to his face. He looks better when people can't see his eyes, a fostermom told him once, and he hasn't really changed it since. 

After getting dressed, he went back to his room and just sat for a couple of hours. He stared at the ceiling, thinking about this new family when he heard a door open. It was to the left of him, so he assumed that it meant Techno was awake. He looked up as he heard the man head to the bathroom, but didn't pay it much mind otherwise. 

Once he heard the others start to get up, he packed everything into his backpack that they got him yesterday and waited for Phil to call him down for breakfast. He could hear Techno's tired tone as he sat down in the kitchen, Wilbur slumping against the counter. He could hear Phil start up breakfast, but he still waited. He listened to their conversation while he waited. Wilbur was talking about this cute girl Sally that he liked. Techno was talking about this kid Dream that he had a rivalry with. It's good that he knows who to avoid, so he can't mess up their lives like he does everyone's. 

"Tubbo, Breakfast is ready! Are you awake mate?"

Tubbo took a deep breath, grabbed his backpack, and opened the door. "I'm coming!" he yelled down, wincing at him volume. 

He walked down the stairs gently and entered the kitchen. Phil was making bacon apparently. He has no clue when he last had that. He set his backpack down and went to join his foster brothers at the counter. He hesitated a little, and that's when Wilbur met his eyes and gestured his head to sit down with them. So, he did and ignored the warm fuzzy feeling and the voice at the back of his head telling him that Wilbur cares. Why would Wilbur care? Wilbur doesn't even know him. Techno gave a short grunt of acknowledgement. It was silent in the room and that tells Tubbo he interrupted their conversation when he came down. Stupid Tubbo. 

Phil finally finished and put a plate of scrambled eggs and bacon in front of each of them. Techno dug right in, using his fork like a civil person on the bacon. Wilbur ate it with his hands, earning a look of disgust from techno. To which Wilbur shoved his bacon in Techno's face. Phil chuckled like this way normal. It probably was, to be fair. 

But Tubbo just stared at his plate. The eggs looked so fluffy and soft. Compared to the eggs this one house gave him which were still in the shell, and he was forced to eat them. These looked like yellow mashed potatoes. He put his fork in it and slowly brought it to his mouth, not missing the way Techno was watching him out of the corner of his eye. The moment it hit the tastebuds of his tongue; his eyes lit up. He kicked his legs as he pushed the fork back into the eggs and took another bite. His stomach rumbled, and he happily obliged, eating more. 

"Do you like them?"

Tubbo froze and looked up from his plate. Phil was looking at him with a warm smile. He slowly nodded and held his plate closer. they weren't taking it away from him. But...they didn't try. Instead, they all nodded happily.

"I'll be sure to make more of them then."

Well, that confused Tubbo to end. Why would they do that for him? Sure, he likes these eggs, but he's not staying with them forever. What's the point in putting in all that effort. What's the point in putting in the effort for him. 

He doesn't get to think about it very long, as Wilbur looks at his watch and promptly yelps. 

"We're going to be late. Get up Techno."

Techno groaned and got up to get his shoes on. Phil frowned at the unifinished food on Wilburs plate. "Wilbur, finish your food before you go!"

Wilbur shoveled the rest of his food in his mouth before joining his brother. That left Tubbo at the counter. Phil tilted his head, confused.

"Tubbo, are you okay?"

The boy bit his lip and nodded, but Phil didn't look convinced.

"You can tell me anything. I promise I'm a great listener."

Tubbo knew he couldn't just concede in these people. Emotions are another string attached, and he was not about to fall down that rabbit hole. So he shook his head and attempted to get off the seat. But before he could, Phil rounded the counter and ever so gently picked up Tubbo. Tubbo felt himself tense, but Phil just held him to his chest, rubbing soothing circles on his arm. 

"It's okay to be nervous sweetheart." Techno and Wilbur watched from the door as Phil continued to try to sooth Tubbo. "You're going to a new school and going to meet new people."

Tubbo didn't meet his gaze, nor that of his fosterbrothers. "But...I should be grateful?"

He received a sad look from Phil. He met that look with full confusion. Phil hugged him a little closer, only touching his arm and his back. Wilbur picked up Tubbo's backpack and handed it to Techno. 

"Being nervous about something doesn't mean your ungrateful. Sometimes we all just need a little breather to think things through."

"But I get an education. A lot of kids don't get that."

"Sure, but a lot of kids have a stable home life. I want that for you, and I hope you find that here, but you didn't have that before."

"...M'srry"

"Don't be sweetheart. It's okay."

Tubbo looked up at Phil's kind eyes. He nodded, and Phil handed him to Wilbur. "We'll be back around 4:00 dad."

"Alright. Call if anything happens. Have a fun first day Tubbo."

The drive to school was silent. Techno was driving because apparently Wilbur is an awful driver. Tubbo just looked out the window, using the hum of the road to distract him from his impending doom.

They pulled up to the schools parking lot. There are students walking everywhere and Wilbur swerves to dodge most of them. He pulls into his selective spot and gets out of the car. Techno follows and then goes to to the back to pick Tubbo up.

"I can walk myself you know." he grumbles, but the brothers ignore him. 

"Okay, we have to go to the principal's office to get your schedule. I can bring you to your first class, and Techno can your second." Wilbur informed him as they walked into the school. The hallways were bustling with students. Teachers were around yelling at students not to run in the hallway or pick any fights. Tubbo shrunk in on himself.

Techno chuckled. "Don't worry, this is the high school. The middle is much tamer."

They passed by a few students who waved at Techno and Wilbur, a little confused at the other addition, but waved, nonetheless. Tubbo watched the number on the doors get bigger and bigger until there was a split. On one side of the hallway was highschoolers in a blue and red color Moda. The side they crossed over into though was a green and yellow with middle schoolers.

Wilbur navigated past people. And then the bell rang. It was shrill and felt like it punched Tubbo is the face. His hands immediately moved to cover his ears, and he winced at the noise. Bells at his old school weren't normally this loud. God Tubbo hates this.

They move to the side to let other students pass, and Techno takes this opportunity to put Tubbo down, kneel in front of him, and cover his ears with his own hands. Tubbo startles at the extra weight and peaks an eye open to see Techno smiling at him. 

"It's loud, huh?" he asked with a chuckle. 

Tubbo nodded and Techno took Tubbo's hands off his ears. "Yeah, it spooks me sometimes too. You'll get used to it though."

"But it's so.... loud and annoying."

Techno barked a small laugh. "Yeah, it does that. Been trying to get it changed for years. The high school has a small one though."

Tubbo shook off the slight haze that enveloped his brain, all too familiar. Wilbur turned to them with a tired look. "We're almost there. It won't take long to get his schedule."

Tubbo tilted his head. "What does the schedule look like?"

Techno picked him back up, answering as they started walking again. "It's a full schedule, so you have all eight periods a day."

"We have a block schedule, so we have four periods a day and the other four the next."

Tubbo scrunched his nose. He liked the second option way better. Wilbur laughed at his look. They finally got to the principal's office. It was int the middle of the middle school, near what looks like special ed classrooms. There was a receptionist, and she waved to them when they walked in. They got to a door that says "Mr. Nook".

Upon knocking on it, they heard a loud "Come in!".

Wilbur opened the door and smiled. There was a man at the desk, typing away on a computer. When he looked up, his eyes brightened. 

"Techno and Wilbur Watson! To what do I owe this visit?"

Wilbur smiled back and stepped further into the room to allow Tubbo and Techno to join him. "This is my fosterbrother Tubbo. He needs his schedule,"

Sam blinked at the small child in Techno's arms before he smiled. "Hi Tubbo. I'm Mr. Nook. It's very nice to meet you."

 Tubbo shrunk in Techno's arms under the man's gaze but gave a small nod. Sam reached into his desk, shuffling through papers with some difficulty. After a few minutes, he pulled out a sheet of paper. "This is your timetable. You can keep it with you for a few days as you navigate the school."

He handed it to Techno who held it up for Tubbo. It had eight classes 1st to 8th and on the side were numbers, room numbers Tubbo guesses. It was a pretty standard schedule. Wilbur looked over Techno's shoulder to see. Tubbo had math, then science, then social studies. Then he had PE, then English, then a computer class he knows only Phil could have chosen for him, and then a music class he was probably being forced to take. 

"Oh! You have Mr. Mathew for math! Oh, I had him! Hes great!" Wilbur said accidently. 

Tubbo smiled a bit at that. If he had Wilbur, surely he couldn't be all that bad?

"Oh, he has Mrs. Bitch-" the two brothers ignored Sams squawk of language "-for English"

Wilbur had a look of pity for Tubbo. Who was this Mrs. Bitch character. Oh no. She must be a really bad teacher. Would she hit him? Take his things? Make him remember his trauma? 

"Boys, I believe Tubbo has to go to his first class."

Techno nodded and picked Tubbo up once more. "Thanks Mr. Nook."

"Of course. Come visit anytime."

-*^*-

Tommy woke up with a gasp. Sweat dripped down his forehead as he shot up in bed. He lifted a hand to wipe his face clean, scrunching his nose when his face came back wet. 

That had been a dream. Not one he wasnt well aquanted with though. The fear of his parents leaving forever, leaving him to fend for himself, it never truley leaves him. It constantly lingers in the back of his mind. 

He could hear no sounds in the house, a normal morning. So, with great effort, he got out of bed, scrunching his nose even more when his arms stuck to his sides. Ew. He looked in the mirror, brushing his blond hair back from his face. 

He looked like he got hit by a car. Maybe he did. That would explain whatever the hell he is looking at. His eyes trailed on the scar across his eye, and he briefly reaches a hand to trace it. The renements of pain long forgotten still lingering sometimes.

 He got dressed in jeans and a short-sleeved top with red and white. He put his forgotten homework that he left on his desk in his backpack, grabbing his school computer as he does so and his pencil case, and shoved them into his bag. He ran to the bathroom, brushing his teeth quickly and probably with no efficiency. He held his hair out of the way of his mouth as he spit the toothpaste out and shot a grin at himself. He grabbed his hairbrush and swept it through his messy curls. 

He then wets a rag and uses such rag to wipe the remnants of sweat from his armpits and knees. He stretches and it feels so much better. It stinks a lot less too. 

Tommy hopped down the stairs, listening for any signs or sounds of movement from the kitchen. When he heard none, he slides the railing down the rest of the way and rushed to the fridge. Nothing was prepared, no eggs or bacon on a stove, so he opened the fridge and grabbed an orange. I mean, Tommy can't cook, not really, and he's not in the mood to burn the house down. He sets his backpack on, peels the orange, and gets to work chomping. For a 12-year-old boy, he's quite skinny. Which makes sense, you know, no parents' home to feed him ever. Maybe the occasional left over. Hes lucky he gets lunch money.

Speaking of which, the money is on the counter next to a note. 

Hey champ

Your mother and I will be out of the house the rest of the day. Theres money on the counter for tonight next to your lunch money so you can order pizza. 

Don't waste it, I don't have time to fix whatever messes you cause

Love-Dad

Tommy scoffed and threw the piece of paper in the Recyling (he's not an animal) and crumbles it up as he does so. He finishes his orange, making sure he looks as good as he fells, which he feels like shit, so it checks out. He puts on his shoes, grabs his backpack with untied laces, which his parents never taught and refuse to teach him how to tie, and starts the walk to school in the freezing cold. 

-*^*-

"What do you have first again?"

Tubbo looked down at his schedule and then back up at Wilbur who waits patiently. Tubbo's eyes zero in on his first class. Math. Math always came easy for him, though kids at past schools would make fun of him for being a nerd. It was whatever. 

"Math with Mr. Mathew."

Wilbur nodded as he took Tubbo's hand and gently started to lead him down the hallway. Techno had split with them after coming out of the principal's office as he had to get to class. But Wilbur has a free period first, so he's able to take Tubbo. 

"You're going to love him. The first half of class is when you do work, but the second half is like a big break."

Tubbos head shot up to Wilburs eyes. "Woah really? We get a break during class."

Wilbur nodded furiously. "Uh huh. And the best part is, he has snacks."

That confused Tubbo. Didnt teachers not allow snacks in their classrooms? He voiced this thought to Wilbur, who just shrugged. "Some teachers don't, some teachers do. It depends on who you got."

"oh...." Mr. Mathews already sounds better than half of Tubbo's teachers. Hopefully he lives up to those expectations. 

They got to a classroom. The door was a muted brown. Wilbur raised his hand to knock, and the chatter inside the classroom quieted. There was shuffling on the other side before it opened to reveal a man who seemed to be in his late thirties. He took a second to register, but once he knew who was in front of him, he smiled. 

"Wilbur! What do I owe you coming to my class?"

The teacher ushered us in. It was a class of maybe 21, 22 now if you include Tubbo. Wilbur stepped forward and gently let go of Tubbo's hand, letting his rest of the boys back instead. The classroom was spacious. Tubbo looked around, seeing what order the desks were in. They were in groupings of two, the desks facing each other. Kids had to turn to see the board. A lot of kids were already paired together, though a few stranglers, some of which Tubbo didn't look like he would like at all. There was a girl who was all dressed in pink. A no from him. There was a boy dressed in all goth clothes. Gosh no wonder these people are alone. His eyes lingered on a boy with blue eyes and blond hair, almost identical to Phil before he looked back to Wilbur. 

"This is my fosterbrother Tubbo. Techno and I are taking him to all his classes."

Mr. Mathews smiled down at Tubbo, and Tubbo bit back a gulp in his throat. "Hi Tubbo. It's nice to meet you. Class, say hi to Tubbo."

The unenthusiastic "Hello" from the class made Mr. Mathews shake his head in exasperation as Tubbo hid behind Wilbur more. Wilbur frowned and sighed before stepping around Tubbo, handing the boy his backpack. He ruffled the boy's hair gently before turning back to the teacher. 

"I have to go, but Techno should be here to get him to his next class."

"Of course, Wilbur, need a pass?"

"Yeah, that would be great."

After Wilbur got his pass, he waved bye to Tubbo, who was still standing at the front of the class with his backpack in his hand. the kids stared at Tubbo and he stared back in a tense silence before Mr. Mathews clapped his hands. It startled Tubbo. He almost reached for his ears. Almost. 

"Tubbo, why don't you tell us a bit about yourself?"

Tubbo felt all eyes turn to him and he gulped. His heart quicked and his breathing picked up a little. he shoved his hands into his pockets so his trembling would be less noticeable. 

"u-uhm i-Im Tubbo. I- i uhm.... I live with the Watsons. I guess......"

The kids snickered at his stutter and Tubbo shrank in on himself. Mr. Mathews gave the class a stern look before turning back to Tubbo. "That's lovely Tubbo. You liking them? I haven't seen Wilbur in a few years."

Tubbo found himself nodding, though he couldn't tell the full reason why. Did he like the Watsons. they were really nice, never pushed him. But they all break eventually. Phil would yell at him one day, maybe he would say something insensitive, and Techno would slap him. The teen looks like he could push Tubbo apart. His thought process was interrupted by a hand on his shoulder, and he looked up to meet Mr. Mathews concerned gaze. He just shrugged the touch off gently, it felt like prickles crawling up his skin. He hated it. It didn't feel like Phil's warm and loving touch. Nothing did. 

Mr. Mathews cleared his throat. "Thats good. Why don't you go sit next to.... Tommy. Raise your hand, Tommy."

The boy that looks like Phil from before raised his hand. Tubbo slowly walked over, almost tripping over someone. Heat crawled up his neck and to his cheeks as he sat down next to the blond. The class laughed before the teacher started the lesson. Tubbo got a textbook and a computer to do his schoolwork on. It was pretty cool. None of his other schools did this. 

Tommy was silent next to him, only sparing him a small glance. He didn't try to make social talk either. It was just easier not too. As the lesson droned on, Tubbo just went ahead and did his work. It was quadratics, which were really easy. Knowing how to factor them was Tubbo's specialty. He saw Tommy looking at his work out of the corner of his eye and pushed his textbook a little to show his work to Tommy, who copied it down. Tubbo had to stop himself from laughing, and Tommy shot him a mischievous smile. 

After when the break started, all the students were talking to each other. Tommy spaced out sometime before then and was just staring out the window. His knee was bouncing in a quiet Rythm, his finger moving to the offbeats. Like he was listening to a song in his head. He barely noticed Tubbo waving a hand in his face until he felt a foot tap his own, stopping his legs fidgeting. He looked down at the floor in confusion, seeing Tubbo's foot before looking up to meet his eyes. Brown, chocolate eyes almost covered by bangs and curls. 

"You okay Bigman?"

Tommy smiled a little, though it was strained. "Yeah, I'm okay."

Tubbo nodded and let out a sigh as he stretched. "Math is so tiring."

Tommy let out a dry chuckle and put his textbook back in his backpack. "Yeah, math class here does that. Its long, and it's boring, but the teachers are nice."

Tubbo hummed in acknowledgement. "My name is Tubbo, by the way."

"Yeah, I heard."

He got a slap in the arm. "I was just being polite deckhead."

Tommy laughed, and Tubbo's eyes lit up. Tommy took a moment to really look at Tubbo. The tired eyebags, the skinny frame much like his own. Huh. Tubbo looked at Tommy as well. The scar over his eye, the hair that seemed greasy. Tommy held out his hand and Tubbo shook it. 

"Well in that case, I'm Tommy."

Chapter Text

Tubbo fell into a routine. It's different from his other ones. Sure, he still woke up bright and early. That part never goes away. But it was a different kind of routine. Back in the group home, Tubbo didn't have many friends. No one to wake up to, no one to sit with at breakfast, no one to hung tearfully as they got adopted. He honestly didn't think he needed any till now. He just got so used to feeling like his life meant less than everyone else. 

He considered friends an obstacle regardless. Friends are strings to hold over your head, to toy with, to be told they are just with you out of pity. Its not worth the heartbreak, the pressure you feel in your lungs as your breath catches in your throat and dangles above your head. Strings that hold your arms up, your smile to your ears, and to your throat to force you to laugh. Ones that tare your soul apart until nothing is left. Even when people don´t realize it, it's a universal dynamic. The principal of life. The world is kind to no-one. Some just have it worse than others. People, kids like Tubbo. It was a lesson to be taught, a lesson he thought every kid learned to the letter. In a world that turns its back on you at every corner, what else is there to do? You sit, and you take it. Tubbo learned that the hard way. 

Foster care is just made that way by design, he supposes. Sit, do what you ´ re told, and if they don´t like you, wait until they want you to leave. Regardless of group homes working a little differently than actual foster homes, it's all the same. The same horrid system, favoritism and nepotism all shoved into one program the world should be rid of. 

Not that all people are bad. Just the idea of friendship. Because when they leave, they leave. One moment you are laughing with them over some school sponsored chocky milk that makes you stomach grumble like it's on fire, and the next, the milk is spilled over your head and your tray is slapped to the floor. Diabolical. Thats what Tubbo´s group home caretakers supplied to each other. He doesn't know if they were describing the act of bullying or Tubbo himself. The point is, is that you let your guard down, let yourself indulge in love you've never known with people who can relate, who make your heart warm a little more, and then they make your heart feel better just a little less. At least that is Tubbo´s experience. 

Or it was Tubbo´s experience. 

He thought this new school was going to be like his previous ones. What else was he supposed to expect? Bullies were normal, teachers who disliked him as much as they could because he was smarter than the other kids his age. The teacher's pet, they called him. He expected to be looked down upon by everyone, to be called a mistake, the reason he is in foster care at all. Certainly not an energetic, teenage boy that is younger but someone taller than Tubbo. One whose blue eyes shine at a mere glance at Tubbo. No one has ever looked at him like that. Like he had purpose. Purpose is an ideal after all. It's not something that can just be given. You have to own your life to the fullest for that, and Tubbo is far from owning his. 

He knows one foster home where they would give him tasks to do. They called it his purpose in life. His foster worker called it child labor. He didn't understand at the time, he was seven. Too young to know about the world he was born in that only wanted to see him break down to every major point in his life but experienced it all the same. He would paint the walls, move furniture to his liking, even if it was heavy for a seven-year-old. Thats how they found a torn muscle when his foster worker picked him up.They had taken him to the hospital which was what they did every time he left a foster home. 

Tommy is just...different. There ´ s no other way to explain it. Tommy talks in such a way that it makes Tubbo feel warm inside to see that smile. To know that it might be pointed at him is a foreign feeling he might never get used to. He never asked about Tubbo ´ s past, why he started school at Tommy ´ s, why Tubbo never talked about his family. Tommy just never butts in, he never felt invasive. 

 Most of all, he felt like someone Tubbo enjoyed being around with. He hasn't felt this way in a long time, and it in part, scared him. 

But all Tommy did was smile, and it felt like the world finally owed Tubbo. Sitting next to Tommy in math class felt like a privilege, and with the way Tommy talked to Tubbo, it felt like something he earned. He didn't know how he earned, just that for the first time in his life, he did. He wouldn't say Tommy was exactly a friend, no....more like.... a really close acquaintance. Friends are obstacles after all. 

But holy shit. For everything that Tommy is, angelic and all, he is batshit dumb. Tubbo once asked him if he needed help on a problem during break time, and Tommy said yes. The problem was 5x = 15. Tubbo just stared at the problem, looked at Tommy and his ocean blue eyes, and then looked back down, and groaned. Great. Now Tommy is going to ask for his help all the time and use Tubbo for grades. 

Tommy didn't do that at all. He actually tried to solve the problems, and in other classes he was great at it. Math just didn't do it for him. That was fine, Tubbo could work with that. 

Lunch was also a new experience for Tubbo. Throughout his life, at school, Tubbo would eat alone. He had tried in the past to sit next to people, but they would either say that someone is already sitting there or just laugh at him and move away. So, he stopped trying and stopped caring. If he doesn't care, he doesn't cry. If he cried, they would make fun of him even more. Steal his lunch money, call him slurs and names he can't say out loud. His foster parents hadn't cared, and if he were to ask, he bet Phil would be different. 

Chapter Text

Five Years Ago

Tommy sat up in his bed, the sheets ruffling as he put his hand up to rub his eyes. As he blinked away the blurry vision from the motion, he looked around. He was in his room. Barren walls from parent-child shopping trips that never happened, a bland desk filled with nicknacks he would never own, and a bed that never fit his style. He hated his room. Tommy swung his legs over the side and stood up. He walked to the bathroom that was right outside his room, listening for any signs of his parents as he did so. He grabbed his toothbrush that rested on the sink next to the faucet and moved it in circles in his mouth. The taste of the toothpaste felt like ash. He continued anyways. After spitting out the toothpaste, Tommy washed the bristles gently with his fingers and grabbed his hairbrush that had been tossed haphazardly the night before. He combed through his unforgiving curls, the dry blond moving through the sun. 

After he finished, Tommy set the brush down and finally looked up. He met his eyes in the mirror, duller than they should be. He was used to that look, but it just felt a little more startling this time. The eyebags under his eyes did not help. It made him seem like he wasn't all there, and that made his heart pound a little more. 

He considered taking a shower, but did not feel like it. It wasn't a great morning for Tommy. He barely got the sleep he and his body desired the last night and was exhausted. He threw on sweatpants, a t-shirt that felt far too baggy that it was the last time Tommy washed and wore it. It felt like it should hug his ribs close like a nice warm hug, but the t-shirt hung loosely. 

Tommy walked downstairs. checked his surroundings and then proceeded to the kitchen. His parents were not there either, typical. The room felt colder as he entered, as if all the feeling and emotion and love sucked from the air when he walked into it. His eyes did, however, land on a note on the fridge. He walked over, his feet padding onto the floor, to pick it up. The tape ripped as he tore it off, and he held it with both hands to read it. 

Hey Champ. Your mother and I have an important meeting this morning so we could not make you breakfast. There are some leftovers in the fridge from some dinner we ha last night. Help yourself to whatever.

Dad

A tear hit the page, the droplet like a sting in his heart that he wanted to let go so bad. He stared at it, blinking away the sogginess of his mind. Not even an I Love You this time. And yet he keeps expecting something different. Something that makes him feel like maybe he belongs in this fucked up family, in this fucked up world, in his fucked-up life. 

He read the words over and over, as if they would read differently. He flips the note over, maybe there is one from his mom. There isn't. There never is. He crumbled the paper and threw it in the trash. He opened the fridge and tried to reach for any container. he would say he was tall for a seven-year-old boy, but the doctors said he would never reach the full height of his dad. Fucking 6'6. It took a minute to reach his food, which he was thankful there was any at all. once he grabbed what looked like a mix between lasagna and some sort of Carbonara, he put it in the microwave and set the time to 45 seconds. He watched as it spun, before the beep went off and he put the food on a glass plate. He needed something to eat because fucking hell he was starving. His parents only sometimes left those leftovers, so this was a pure treat. 

After finishing the meal, if he could even call it that, Tommy stood up and walked over to the sink. he turned on the water and started washing the plate off. The water fell off the plate in a smooth motion, and he ran his hand over it. His eyes glazed over a little as he thought back to the note. 

He brought the plate closer, looking at it through the reflection of the shine. Pale. Useless. Worthless. 

Tommy you never learn.

Why can't you do anything right. 

Its not that hard to put away the fucking dishes correctly.

Maybe if you actually did something right in your life.

Tommy!

I'm disappointed to have a son like you.

Tommy!

He snapped out of his own head, dropping the plate as it slipped from his grasp and shattered to the floor. His eyes spun, the world becoming a flash as his brain grew dizzy. He tried to balance himself on the counter, but the boy missed, hitting the floor on a piece of glass. 

The next thing he knew, he woke up to a sharp pain in his eye. There was blood next to him on the floor, blood on the pieces of glass. He must have cut himself when he landed. Honestly how does that even happen. He grabbed a first aid kit out of the kitchen cabinet, and hastily cleaned up his eye. At least he would have a cool scar. He picked up the shattered pieces, ignoring the blood for a moment, and placed them in the trash. Once he was done, he picked his backpack off the couch, put his red coat on and tied up his boots, and walked out the door for school. 

He forgot the blood on the floor. 

*^*

"Tommy!"

Tommy blinked back the fog that clouded his mind just a second ago, snapping out of his trance like state. He found himself on the ground, tears running down his cheeks. He found Tubbo in front of him, kneeling by his dissipating shadow. 

¨T-Tubbo?¨

Tubbo gave him a soft smile. Tommy ´ s heart was beating fast, and he could feel the pulse in his ears. He blinked away the residue of sogginess in his eyes, and took a deep breath from his stomach. He wiped his hands on his pants, and looked back up to Tubbo. The boy was watching him with a worried expression, though he can´t pinpoint exactly why. 

¨Are you okay?¨

Tommy blinked, and as Tubbo outstretched his hand, he was pulled up and onto his feet. His toes were sore from running, and he stretched his limbs for a moment before finally answering Tubbo. 

¨Yeah, im good.¨

¨Are you sure?¨ Tubbo frowned. ¨There was someone following you, by the way....¨, he trailed off as Tommy went a little pale. Tommy clenched his fists to his sides to stop shaking. 

Tubbo gave a short nod, and they stood in silence for a moment. Tommy watched a little rock on the ground. Small, defenseless, broken from wherever it came from. 

¨What did you say before?¨ Tommy asked after the silence got to unbearable. 

¨Oh uh-¨ Tubbo cleared his throat. ¨Come home with me.¨

Tommy  blinked at the rock, his legs feeling like noodles. He stared before moving to stare at Tubbo. 

Tubbo blinked back in confusion. ¨Do I have something on my face?¨ He pulled out his phone and used the camera to look at his teeth. No lettuce, no cheeseburger. Thank god. 

¨N-no. I just u-uh-¨ Tommy stuttered. 

¨Take your time,¨ Tubbo said gently as he walked forward to put his hand on Tommy´s shoulder. 

¨I- What?¨

¨What what?¨

¨Im confused Tubs. Your asking me to come over?¨

Tubbo tilted his head, rubbing the back of his neck. ¨I mean, yeah? I know I asked earlier, and you said no, but you seemed to know that person and I don´t think your safe to uhm...go home, ya know?¨

Tommy let out a short laugh. ¨Way to be non-vague Tubbo.¨

¨Oi!¨ Tubbo squawked. 

They laughed, shoulders shaking. 

¨Okay, but seriously-¨ Tommy´s voice cut through his laughter. ¨You want me to go home with you?¨

¨Yep. Your going to come home with me.¨

¨Okay...can we get out of this alleyway. its smells bad.¨

¨I think thats just you.¨

¨Hey!¨

They walked out of the alleyway. Tubbo took Tommy´s hand this time, and Tommy adjusted his backpack on his shoulder so it didn't slip off. 

¨I mean, technically Phil doesn't allow friends on weekdays, school and all. So im gonna sneak you in.¨

Tommy frowned. It sounds risky to him. He has not meant Phil. He doesn't know the man. He knows Techno from lunch, and Wilbur when he hasn't been in band practice. Regardless, Tommy nodded, not processing Tubbo´s full sentence. ¨So who is at your house right now.¨

Tubbo put his finger to his chin in thought as they walked across the street. ¨Uhm....Wilbur is at band practice. I think Phil texted our group chat and said that he would be running errands before we got home. Honestly, I don´t know if Techno is home right now.¨ That was a risk Tubbo was willing to take. 

It was at this point that Tubbo´s sentence finally registered in Tommy´s head.

¨Wait, we´re going to what-¨

*^*

Tommy could not tell you how he got into this situation. Obviously you know part of it, with that weird woman and then Tubbo in the alleyway. 

But scaling a house to reach a window, that he wouldn't be able to know. Because quite frankly, he spaced out for most of it. That might be dangerous, who knows. 

The point is, Tubbo forgot his key, something about ¨the key walking away¨. Sure Tubbo, sure. 

Tommy hoists himself up on the ledge, his fingers white from gripping the window seal. He puts one leg up first, and then the other, pushing the window open with his shoulder, and rolling in. Tubbo followed shortly after, climbing in and closing the window behind them.

¨That was fun!¨ Tubbo said in a far too cherry attitude. 

Tommy groaned as he stood up and dusted himself off. ¨We have very different definitions of the word fun.¨

Tubbo rolled his eyes and then gestured around his room. ¨Welcome to me humble abode.¨

Tommy looked around, taking his shoes off and placing them by the bedroom door. Tubbo´s room was quaint, though he guessed Tubbo did not have many things being a foster kid. It was nice and tidy, the opposite of Tommy´s room at the current moment. There was a twin bed pushed up against the wall, and a bedside table with a lamp on top. The lamp casted a soft white across the room rather than the bigger light on the ceiling, which was currently turned off. Tubbo placed his backpack near his desk. Tubbo´s desk had a sketchpad, as well as a stuffed animal bee on top. Tubbo´s closet was open by a small margin, and Tommy could almost see a faint outline of Benson hiding. He decided not to mention it. 

Tubbo sat on his bed. ¨So we- my foster family has a Nintendo downstairs that Wilbur lets me play. I could go grab it if you want?¨

Tommy shrugged, and Tubbo took that too mean ¨whatever is fine.¨

While Tubbo went to get the Nintendo, Tommy sat on Tubbo´s bed and patiently waited. He ignored the messages blowing up his phone in his pocket. Maybe if he pretends they are not there, they arent. 

Tubbo came back and they proceeded to play mario kart 8 on the switch. Tubbo chose the suprieror Mario, in his words, while Tommy chose bowser. They played a multitude of maps, but spent a lot of time on rainbow road, mostly because Tommy kept challanging Tubbo everytime the latter won. 

They must have lost track of time, and before they knew it, Tommy´s stomach was rumbling. Tubbo chose this moment to pause the game and speak up. 

¨Should you tell anyone you are here?¨

But Tommy waved him off. ¨Nah.¨ He refused the person in his brain telling him that there was a reason. 

Tubbo had not looked at the clock once while they were playing. He had forgotten that he infact had a foster family and they were in fact walking through the door. Both boys froze as they heard the door open, followed by the sound of someone taking their shoes off and walking downstairs to the living room. 

¨Tubbo! You home?¨ A voice called out. Phil. Shit. 

Tubbo turned to Tommy with genuine fear, and it took Tommy a moment to realize that the same expression was plastered on his face. 

Tubbo began pacing, rubbing his hands together while mumbling. 

¨Dude, you have to respond!¨ Tommy whispered yelled. 

¨i know!¨ Tubbo whisper yelled back. ¨Im trying to think!¨

¨You´re dad-¨

¨Foster dad.¨

¨Whatever! He´s going to be so mad!¨

Tubbo´s breathing sped up, coming out of his mouth is sharp gasps. Tommy gently took one of Tubbo´s hands.

¨Okay, hears the plan. We hide you.¨

Tommy blinked. ¨Where!? He´s already downstairs, probably with your brothers.¨

Tubbo did not respond, instead taking Tommy´s arm and pulling him out of the bedroom. They crept down the stairs, avoiding where the creaks are and making their way past the living room where they can see Phil, Techno, and Wilbur on the couch.

Tubbo´s breath caught again as they walked past slowly, going to the dimmed lighted kitchen. 

¨Get under the sink.¨ Tubbo told Tommy. He opened the sink cupboard, which was very cluttered. He took out products, putting them to the side under the counter so that they would not be seen. Tommy stretched before sliding his body inside. It was a tight fit, and Tommy felt panic rise in him, before Tubbo put a hand on his arm.

¨What are you doing?¨

Tubbo yelped, slamming the door shut, in which Tommy willed himself not to make a sound.

There stood Techno, watching with a raised eyebrow. ¨Dad called up to you but you didnt respond.¨

Tubbo smiled sheepishly. ¨My mistake. Did not hear him¨

¨Okay, well we´re in the living room. Do you want to join us?¨

The cupboard opened next to Tubbos leg and he slowly closed it with his foot while keeping eye contact with Techno. ¨Im good. I got homework, lots of it.¨

Techno narrowed his eyes in suspicion. ¨uh huh.¨

Phil chose that time to come into the kitchen, unfortunately. ¨What´s going on?¨

¨I think Tubbo is hiding something,¨ Techno deadpanned. Straight to the point I see.

Phil turned to look at Tubbo. ¨How was your day Tubbo?¨

¨Bruh I-¨

Phil put a hand up. ¨Let him speak Tech.¨

¨It was good. Saw some cool birds. Nice fresh air outside,¨ he spoke, his hands shaking at his sides. 

He would have said more, if it was not the small yelp from under the sink. Both of them walked around to where Tubbo was standing, and there was....a boy under the sink. Tommy peaked out and went pale when Phil saw him. Oh no. 

Tubbo´s mind went blank. Suddenly, he was back at house three. It was a small home, with a cat and a nice  couple. The first few nights were okay. Tubbo had a nice room, with a desk and a big bed. He was able to decorate it somewhat, though had to stay in a tight budget. A house where he learned that no matter what he did, it was wrong. That wherever he went, he would always fuck up. 

Tubbo walked down the stairs of the old home, its creeks filling the air with an Erie silence. His ears peaked up at any sign of noise. As he walked down to the small hallway by the front door, he made his way to the living room.

it looked as it always did, except for the man standing next to the couch. It was his foster father. He was looking down at the floor, silent. Tubbo walked forward, his heart pace picking up and his hands wringing together at their sides. He startled when his foster dad spoke. 

¨You know why you are here, boy?¨

Tubbo swallowed. ¨To be adopted?¨

The man let out a sharp howl of a laugh, bending over and putting his hands on his knees. ¨That was fucking hilarious.¨

Tubbo stilled. ¨W-what??¨

The man looked up, and Tubbo had never seen such hatred in someones eyes. He was still laughing, but it was much sharper now, and Tubbo flinched to hear it. 

¨You are so naive boy. We took you in for the benefits.¨

Tubbo´s foster mom came from the kitchen, a towel in her hands. She surveryed the sccene before sighing. ¨You do as your told.¨

¨B-but I-I-¨

¨QUIET WITH THAT STUTTER. ITS SO ANNOYING!¨ his foster dad yelled from across the room, walking up with thundering stomps and grabbing tubbo by the collar. He threw the boy to the ground, kicking his ribs. 

Tubbo gasped for air. This doesn't make sense. He had followed all the rules. Or maybe he didn't. Was there something Tubbo missed. Shit. SHIT.

¨We should just be rid of you.¨

¨n-no!¨

The man growled and grabbed Tubbo, smirking as the boy cowered in fear. 

¨I will make you ever regret messing with me.¨

Tubbo was dragged down to the basement. He whimpered in the dark, and got a slap on his face for it. His phone was taken, and smashed to the ground. They got him that phone, and they took it away from him. 

Tubbo was snapped out of whatever state he had been in to realize that tears were falling down his face. Phil was cupping his cheeks in his hands, rubbing soothing circles. Tommy was still pale, still staring at the three member's of Tubbos foster family. 

¨So why is Tommy in our home?¨ Wilbur asked, confused. 

Tubbo bit his lip. ¨He was being followed, so I took him home with me.¨

Phil frowned. ¨Followed? By who?¨

Tubbo shrugged, wiping his tears. ¨It was some random women. Im sorry...¨ He flinched, waiting for an impact. An impact that never came. 

¨You should have told me, but you did the right thing.¨

Techno helped Tommy out of the cabinet. But as soon as Tommy was up, he let go of Techno´s hands and backed away. 

Tubbo said nothing, and all that was in his mind was....

¨Tom-¨

¨No!¨ The boy freaked, and took off running out of the house. 

Techno was about to go after him when Phil put a hand on his arm. Techno gave his dad a look, but Phil was unyeilding. ¨Give him time. I think he´ll be okay.¨

¨hes alone right now, dad.¨ Wilbur pointed out. 

¨Maybe thats what he needs.¨

¨but-¨

But Phil was turning to Tubbo. ¨Tubbo, are you okay?¨

Tubbo nodded, none of them looked convinced. ¨I am.¨

He knew what it was like to feel scared. He remembered the day, all the days, all those bad homes. He would give Tommy as much time as he needed. 

Chapter Text

To say Tubbo was worried would be an understatement. He's more than worried though. He's scared, he's guilty. All for Tommy, the boy that warmed his way into Tubbo's heart like no classmate ever had. Tubbo thought he learned the hard way not to trust people in meaningless friendship that mean nothing in the long run when he's just going to be kicked out of home after home. But Tommy changed that.

Still, Tommy had not returned school, or the days after. He had considered going looking for Tommy, but he didn't know where he lived. Even if this town was on the smaller side, it wasn't likely he would run into Tommy. His best bet was to wait.

Easier said than done. Without Tommy, he was so bored during class. No one to throw pieces of paper at the teachers with, for shame. Recess, he had to sit alone. He still sat with Techno and the group for lunch, but Tommy's seat next to him on the table bench felt emptier than ever. 

So, it is now Wednesday. Tubbo wants to slam his head onto the table, but Mrs. Shakins does not like noise. Though it seemed like he would have to wait no longer. As if on cue, Tommy walked through the door. He looked...horrible to say the least. There were dark circles under his eyes that his scar really brought forth. His hair was messy, sticking up in all directions. His clothes were baggier. 

"You're late, Mr. Simons", Mrs. Shakins announced without looking up from her desk. 

But Tommy didn't respond. Tubbo tried to give him a smile, and he didn't get one in return. In fact, Tommy did not bat an eye. They sat in silence for the period. Tubbo kept sneaking glances at his friend, but Tommy was paying attention. Weird, since Tommy never pays attention. 

Tubbo wouldn't let this stand for the whole day, so during lunch when they sat down to eat, Tubbo decided to bring it up. As Tubbo sat down in between Tommy and Techno, he barely tuned in to the conversations around the table. He slowly ate his food, though it tasted like ash on his tongue. 

He kept shooting glances at Tommy, but it was like the latter was pretending not to notice. For some reason, that hurt more than Tubbo thought it would. But Tubbo had a plan and he is going to see it through. He turned to Tommy, and gently took his hand. 

"Tommy," Tubbo said with a sad tone of voice. The conversation around the table halted, and Tubbo could feel eyes on him, but he paid them no mind. Around them, everyone else kept chatting, but Tubbo was focused on his friend, and only his friend. 

Tommy blinked, and finally looked at Tubbo, though there was a sort of hesitancy. 

"Why are you avoiding talking to me?"

Tommy winced. it was small, but Tubbo had learned to catch those types of things through the years and every house he had been in. He frowned, and then he stood up. If Tommy wouldn't speak here, maybe he would speak in private. Niki frowned, but nodded and gestured for Tubbo to leave his uneaten food there and she would throw it out for him. Tubbo shot her a grateful look and lead Tommy out of the noisy cafeteria. 

They walked in silence, though Tubbo's grip never faltered. When they got somewhere more calm and with less people, Tubbo finally let go of Tommy's hand. Tommy rubbed his wrist and kept it to his chest, looking at Tubbo warily. Tubbo rubbed the back of his neck as the silence engulfed them. 

"Why are you not talking to me?" Tubbo finally asked. 

Tommy hesitated before giving Tubbo a soft shrug. Honestly, Tubbo just wants a straight answer, but he knows better than anyone to be gentle trying. 

"Just....give me something to work with Toms." Tubbo said softly, giving him a look meant to calm.

In a way, it worked. Tommy's shoulders un-tensed, and he let out a breath he didn't know he was holding.

"Is your dad mad?" Tommy asked, wringing his hands together. It doesn't really hit Tubbo that Tommy called Phil his dad, at least not yet. Tubbo frowned, and thought back to Phil. If it was any other foster father, he probably would have. But Tubbo thinks Phil is different. Different in the way that he checks on Tubbo before bed. Different in the way that if Tubbo had a bad day, Phil would bake him brownies to cheer him up. Different in the way that Phil let Tubbo play with the flowers in the backyard because Tubbo let it slip that he liked them. Hes just...different. Tubbo doesn't know what to think of it. 

He realizes Tommy is waiting for an answer, so he takes a deep, controlled breath. 

"No. He was just a bit shocked. But he wasn't mad. Phil doesn't really get mad", Tubbo replied. 

Tommy nodded, though still nervous. Tubbo could see the hint of tears under Tommy's eyes, and the light refracts off Tommy's scar in a angelic kind of way. It didn't seem like Tommy was keen to talking about so, so he didn't push his questions onto the boy.

The bell rang loudly, and Tubbo flinched. Tommy put his hands over Tubbo's ears to drown out the noise of the kids coming out of the cafeteria and too their classrooms. Dream caught sight of them and waved. Tommy nodded, and once all the kids were gone, he let go of Tubbo's ears and they made their way to science. 

They had Mrs. Baseriek for science. That is not her real name, shes just kind of crazy, especially if your 're late. When the two walked into class, she just sighed, and took out a cone of shame, putting it on Tubbo's head. The class laughed, and Tubbo went beat red. Even Tommy let out a chuckle, and it sounded like music to Tubbo's ears.

Their lab partners, so they worked on a packet of what the teacher did in a demonstration. Tubbo mostly did the work since Tommy hates science, which was fine.

Tubbo was in the middle of the 5th question, something about colors changing, when Tommy tapped him on the shoulder. He turned his head to look at his friend, and Tommy winced

"look, I'm sorry I was avoiding you."

Tubbo opened his mouth to say Tommy doesn't have to apologize, but the boy beat him too it. "I just...you were right when you said that, uhm..home wasn't an option for me. I mean, I could still go, I just...don't want to be.." He took a deep breath, in and out before continuing with one word. "Alone."

Tubbo stilled, and looked at Tommy with a curious but sympathetic gaze. "No, I need to apologize. I should have told Phil you were coming over, and I'm sorry you got caught and felt the need to run. I never want you to feel that way with me."

Tommy sniffled, and nodded, blinking away the tears that threatened to fall all over his packet. Tubbo continued to work. 

"Can I stay you with you?"

Tubbo nodded. "yeah, I'll actually let Phil know this time. I promise he is nice."

Tommy took Tubbo's word for it. 

*_*

Phil stood in front of Tubbo at the front door, and Tommy is behind him. Tubbo looked a little scared, which broke Phil's heart. He gave Tommy his best kind smile, and opened the door for them more.

"So Tubbo texted me", Phil started as the boys began to take off their shoes. "You can stay. After what happens, stay as long as you need. You have parent permission, yeah?"

Tubbo nodded too fast, and Tommy nodded a bit more slowly. Phil's just going to take that as a maybe and deal with the repercussions later. 

Techno and Wilbur opened the front door and trailed inside. They startled at the sight of Tommy, but then Wilbur waved. 

"Hi Wilbur, Hi techno", Tommy waved back. 

"Sup Tommy. You staying over?" Techno asked Tommy and the boy nodded in response. 

For hours, they played Mario kart. Tommy chose Toad every time, and was actually good at drifting. Techno was the best out of all of them, getting first place almost every single time. They were playing on rainbow road now, and Wilbur had a smirk as he was in first this time. But then Tubbo got a power up, and it was a blue shell. Wilbur's smirk disappeared so fast that Tommy started laughing and his character went off the map. Tubbo clicked the send button and there the blue shell went. Wilbur scrambled to go faster, but it was no use. The shell slammed into him, flipping his character. Techno, Tommy, Tubbo, and princess peach zoomed past.

"NOOOOOO!" Wilbur whined dramatically.

"Sucks to suck Wilbur", Techno shrugged casually. 

"Rude. You are rude. I don't like you."

"You are ugly-"

"Boys!"  Phil called form the kitchen. 

Tubbo's head snapped up. Maybe this time he would yell at them-"

"No yelling, and dinner is ready."

All four of them groaned. But the smell of delicious chicken was so strong. They were about to head over to the table, if it weren't for the fact that the door bell rang. 

Phil went to go get it. And when he opened the door, eh was met with a police officer. The officer looked tired, but serious, and he tried to peak inside. 

"We have reports of a kidnapping. A boy named Tommy is in your care, yes?"

Phil frowned and nodded. "Yes, what is this about?"

"It's about my son." 

Phil looked behind the officer and was met with two snobbish looking people. They looked high end and looked like they partied a lot. Phil has a feeling this won't go over well. 

Phil let them inside, closing the door behind them. The game had stopped, and now the four kids were looking at the people with concern. Tommy was hiding behind Tubbo, which makes no sense since Tubbo is shorter than him. The women gasped. 

"Tommy baby, come here", she said in a sweet tone that felt all too fake. Tommy did not come, just clung to Tubbo more. The women looked murderous, but the officer stepped in.

"Please calm down. I understand that Tommy was not allowed to come here, yes?"

Everyone turned to look at Tommy and he nodded. 

"This is unacceptable!" The man bit. "He shouldn't have been here at all."

"Excuse you-" Tubbo tried to cut in, but the man cut him off. 

"This is none of your business brat. Stay out of it."

That got Techno and Wilbur riled up. "Do NOT talk to my brother like that", Techno said with venom in his voice. Wilbur stepped in front of Tommy and Tubbo. 

"What are you going to do about it?" The man challenged. 

"Everyone calm down!" Phil tried. 

"Don't tell me to calm down you kidnapper", the woman glared. 

That got everyone arguing. The police officer was trying to break them up, but they wouldn't quiet down. Tubbo scorched closer to Tommy, a frown on his face. 

"You didn't tell them?" he asked in a hushed tone. 

"As I said, my home life is not great. I didn't tell you because...I thought it would make me less of a friend to you."

Tubbo blinked, and then let out a quiet laugh. Tommy flinched. "Why are you laughing?"

"No I'm not laughing at you. But Tommy, I'm a foster kid. I've been through far too many homes. You don't have to keep stuff hidden from me. I know what its like to be you."

Tommy blinked, and then heat rushed to his face. Right. Tubbo = foster kid. He forgot. Oops. They tuned the argument out until suddenly, the woman grabbed Tommy and went to the door. Tubbo tried to grab him back, but he was pushed away to Techno by that hold hag. 

Phil turned to the policeman. "Well? Arent you going to do something?"

The policeman winced and shrugged. "Tommy is not your son, so I can't."

Wilbur glared. "She literally just manhandled him out of our house, and was yelling at my brother"

"I'm sorry, but yelling is not an act of assault. If you want, you can file a complaint. My apologies, and have a good day."

The policeman left and the family was left standing there. Tubbo turned a pleading gaze onto Phil. "Phil, we have to do something!"

"yeah!" Wilbur agreed. 

But what could they do. The policeman spoke the truth. Phil doesn't have jurisdiction to just take Tommy. 

But there was one thing.

Later that night, Phil was on the phone with someone. It was late, though Tubbo was still up, and he would bet dollar to donuts Techno and Wilbur were too, just thinking about Tommy. Tubbo knew he recognized that old bitch. She was the lady chasing Tommy before. Oh he wanted to punch her face so bad. 

Tubbo poked his head outside of his room, and saw Wilbur and Techno doing the same. Techno put his finger to his lips in a shushing motion, and Tubbo nodded. 

They couldn't hear much of the conversation. But they got the jist of it. And what Phil said next shocked them. 

"How much do I pay to have this taken to court?"