Problum Child - Mental_Kitten - Minecraft (Video Game) [Archive of Our Own] (2024)

Chapter 1

Chapter Text

Tommy was at the police station again. For some reason an officer decided to search him and found a few 'borrowed' wallets that he hadn't managed to stash away yet. It was the middle of the city, so pretty much everyone who could just used their credit card. Which pretty much meant that he got a measly ten bucks and a handful of coins that he hadn't bothered to count.

He was pretty much zoned out as the guy that was trying to chat with him just spoke in circles. How many times was he going to ask how school was going?! The guy seemed to only have one conversation topic, and it sucked.

He was taking a sip of the cheap orange juice he was offered when Mariah was suddenly storming into the meeting room. He damn near choked, especially since she went purple as soon as she saw him. He could practically see the steam shooting out of her ears.

"TOMMY!" He was numb to her yelling already despite the measly six weeks of being ‘under her care’. Her kind nature was gone the moment she had to drive him back to the group home the third time. He hadn't really been surprised, and was honestly amazed that she had managed to fake it that long in the first place.

"Looks like my ride's here. See ya’, Robert." He stood up with his styrofoam cup of juice, fully ignoring the world around him as she marched him out of the building and to her cheap 2007 Toyota Camry. He took his place in the passenger seat, fixing his gaze on the empty air freshener plug in the lower right vent.

1590-D8C was the serial number printed on the plastic part that held some obnoxiously floral scented liquid at one point. He looked up from his usual fixation when he noticed that the car wasn't on yet.

"You donot get to ignore me today. I told you that we have a phone call with Mr. Watson, and you still ran the second you felt like it! What was it this time, Tommy? Did Susan take the last apple juice at breakfast? Or did Jacob take your toast?" She spat at him. He faked a look of guilt so she would just start the f*cking car.

He wasn't going to bother trying to explain to her that one of the new guys at the home wanted whatever pocket money he had laying around. He was bigger, meaner, and said Tommy had until after breakfast to cough it up or it was being taken ‘the hard way’. Naturally, his solution had been to slip out his window in the early morning and catch a bus to f*ck knows where.

It wasn't his fault that no one bothered to lock his window with the key that all the staff had! If someone was known for running away, why would you assume they were telling the truth about their window being locked? If anything, he should’ve been more upset at how lazy those assholes were. Especially since it was their whole job to hang around that dump.

"When's the phone call with this Phil guy?" He ignored most of her rant, especially the part about how he needed to address the guy formally to ‘leave a good impression’, and got an answer of about 2pm. Which would be pushing it considering that it was already half past noon, and he knew for a fact that they would be in the car for at least another hour.

She probably had to start calling around to find him as soon as she got on at 11am. He would pretend to feel bad about it if he wasn't tired and also hated her. Which was perfectly okay since she hated him just as much, if not more. She at least got paid to put up with him. The most he ever got were dirty looks.

Sometimes she would try to bribe him with a piece of taffy to try and shut him up. It usually didn't work, but it took him longer to f*ck it up with a potential ‘parent’ when he was busy chewing through something with the consistency of a wad of glue. He was surprised she hadn’t tried something like that already.

It felt like static was playing in his ears the longer they drove, the muted buzzing thankfully blocking out her angry lecture about how he was such a f*ck-up. The only difference was watching her drive on the interstate, since the view was mostly unfamiliar.

What bus had he gotten on? He must’ve dozed off longer than he thought he did, since they were all the way on the other side of the city. Not that he wasn’t perfectly okay to find his way around all by himself. He could read a map. Sort of.

He briefly considered just jumping out of the car, but it was quickly replaced with terror as he watched a semi truck nearly smash a smaller car because it cut them off without a turn signal. He couldn't drive, but he knew that that was incorrect and dangerous. It was probably also very illegal.

He fixed his gaze back on the familiar serial number. 1590-D8C. He repeated the code to himself silently as they drove in the false silence.

---

Mariah was pissed. Which would usually be funny if he wasn’t also pissed. He had forgotten that he was holding a cup of juice at some point during their drive, and basically threw it on himself the second she slammed the brakes. They got into it about whether or not he needed to shower for a phone call.

He had just gone for one anyways after she went to the office to get things started. It wasn't like he took super long to clean himself. She wasn’t the one who would have to sit there and be sticky. It was a measly twenty minutes before he was in a fresh change of clothes with damp hair.

He wandered into her office and slammed the door behind him, ignoring the dirty look she gave him for it. She wouldn’t try to yell at him while on the phone with someone. He plopped himself down in one of the sh*t chairs, trying to focus his attention on whatever they were talking about. Not that he actually cared.

Mariah was pretty deep into the conversation, but he was sure that he didn't miss anything worthwhile. He knew that she didn't try to over sell him, which was good in some aspects. Any of his other social workers tried to make him sound like a stable and loving child, which always got him bounced around once his 'family' found out that he was actually a f*cking mess.

"He's a problem child." Her tone was too warm for the backhanded insult that just came from her.

Tommy almost immediately began tuning out the conversation. Mariah was just being an asshole. He had originally planned to listen in to the conversation as much as he could, since he usually got bored of scratching the paint off of the old ass chairs at some point, but he wouldn’t pretend to care if she was just going to sh*t on him.

The blond boy was scraping his nails clean with a pen he stole off her desk when the phone was suddenly shoved in his face. He blatantly dropped it on the floor before taking the sh*tty desk phone, not listening to whatever she was angrily whispering to him. He knew it pissed her off. That’s the reason he did it.

"So whaddya' wanna know, big man?" The silence from the other end made Tommy wonder if the guy hung on him. It would've been a personal record. Ten seconds into speaking to someone? It would be more impressive if it wasn’t sad.

"You sound like a f*cking gremlin" came after another long moment of silence mixed with what sounded like shuffling. It sounded like someone else let out some weird laugh farther away from the phone. There was a shout on the other end before suddenly the guy who spoke was replaced by a new voice.

"I'm so sorry about Wilbur. He's just grumpy because we interrupted his nap." The voice wasn't much deeper, but the accent was a bit different. They also sounded much more reasonable than the bitch that insulted him.

"Whose we? I was told you were single." Mariah was trying to quietly yell at him about asking inappropriate questions, which he simply ignored by turning his head so he couldn't read her lips. He knew she wouldn’t yell loud enough to scare the guy away. He knew she didn’t want to deal with him.

"They didn't tell you about my kids?" Tommy almost gave himself a headache from how hard he rolled his eyes. He glared into the sh*tty periwinkle wallpaper as he prepared to hear some sappy bullsh*t.

"Why'd you want some foster kid if you have some already? There's better hobbies out there. Cheaper, too." Mariah was done trying to be quiet while bitching at him, so his brilliant solution was to clamp his hand over his other ear to help block her out. And she told him he needed to control his temper? She was practically red in the face.

"Tommy, they're not my biological kids. I fostered both of them for about a year before I legally adopted them." His tone was calm and reassuring, but Tommy's throat was suddenly dry. This guy had a record of supposed success stories? In his experience, those were the ones that were usually cults. Or Mormons.

"They came home when they were younger, though. I get that you're already a teenager, but I think this can work if you give us a chance." The Phil guy kept on talking, filling the silence like it was nothing.

"I'm not the one that usually f*cks it up, big man." Tommy didn't bother trying to dial down the bitterness in his tone.

"I know, I was told about your record. How'd you manage to get arrested this morning?" Phil was talking casually and cheerfully, like they were old friends discussing catching.

Tommy somehow ended up in an entire rant about the previous day's events influencing his earlier actions, the words just tumbling out once he got started. It felt warm in a weird way when he spoke. It was weirdly nice, and the comments he was getting just urged him to ramble more.

Phil was easy to talk to.

Chapter 2

Chapter Text

"You'll need to sign a few papers once you get here, but he can definitely go home with you tonight." Mariah was using that stupid tone she only pulled out when she was trying to seem charismatic. He would’ve bought it if he didn’t know how much of a bitch she really was.

"I'll go throw my sh*t into a bag." He declared loudly, purposefully slamming the door on the way out.

Tommy wasn't excited to meet Phil or his 'sons'. In his experience, things that seemed too good to be true weren't. He spent the next couple of minutes letting his imagination run wild as he theorized about how he would end up f*cking it up. Tommy fished the cheap smoke detector off of the wall as he let himself mope.

He popped open the back of it, taking out the money he had shoved in the empty battery compartment. He had gotten more creative since he got all his sh*t taken by that one ‘caretaker’ years ago. He wasn’t even in the same group home anymore. If he cared more, he might've been a bit upset that no one bothered to check the damn thing for the two and a half years that he had been using the smoke detector as a safe.

He had nearly three hundred dollars shoved in there, which was more than enough to catch a bus and disappear for a few days. Running at the first sign of something he couldn’t handle was the only reason he was still f*cking alive. He probably didn't need his entire stash, but he was told that Phil lived a good way out of the city. He was sure that he would end up burning through more than twenty bucks if that was true.

Supposedly they had a couple 'acres' of woods. He had no idea what that measurement was, but he was also told that there were a lot of different places for him to 'play in'. If he wasn't sure that Mariah would actually have beaten the sh*t out of him with a stapler, he would've made some rude comments about how old Phil thought he was.

The money was stashed away in his bag along with the few things he didn't want to leave behind. He made the mistake of leaving things he cared about out once, and they were all gone by the time he got back fifteen days later. He did manage to get on the list of ‘special’ kids who didn't get their rooms reassigned once they left. Which basically meant that he didn't have to readjust himself once he got back. It didn't mean that any adult bothered to make sure he wasn't f*cking robbed. It was probably silly to travel with six pairs of socks. But if he didn't, they would end up disappearing.

Tommy only travelled with the basics, and he owned next to nothing, so his bag was soon thrown together. It was a cheap, fluorescent red backpack from the dollar store with the stitches fraying and tearing apart pretty much everywhere. Where he couldn't patch it with tape, he just didn't bother patching it. He had gotten it about a year into his stay at his current group home. He was still convinced that the obnoxious coloring was on purpose to make him easier to find if he ran with it. Which might have worked if all of the adults around him weren’t lazy idiots.

Once he was sitting on his bed with his bag in his lap, he was suddenly aware of how tired he was. He didn’t sleep well in the first place, so starting his day at five in the morning probably didn’t help. The half a cup of juice had been the only thing in his stomach since he had ran before his usual breakfast of burnt toast and a juice box.

He wedged his bag under his head to support what the sh*t excuse for a pillow wouldn't, letting his eyes slip shut a few moments later.

---

Tommy jerked awake as he heard something banging loudly, his heart pounding as he immediately dissolved into panic. His eyes weren't even open the whole way before he was upright, trying to scan his surroundings to see whatever it was that was trying to kill him. His mind wasn’t catching up, giving him fantasies about whatever caretaker he managed to piss off coming to strangle him to death.

There was just some asshole a few years younger than him in the doorway that she had been banging on.

"You're going away." Susan was probably like twelve and already a full blown asshat. He couldn't blame her, though. The system was good at f*cking kids up. He was a clear example of that.

He grabbed his bag and waltzed out of his room with fake confidence. He pretended to not notice the looks he was getting as he strode towards the office. He felt bad for whatever new residents envied him when they saw him leaving. He usually felt worse when he knew they pitied him, though. Even the youngest kids knew that coming back was bad. And Tommy always came back.

"When are the bitch-" Tommy was about to say something very rude while throwing the door open, but he froze once the four pairs of eyes in the room focused on him.

"Tommy!" Mariah looked like she was about to come over the desk at him, her knuckles white from the harsh grip on her pen. He couldn't even articulate a response because the weird theater-looking kid was... a lot to take in.

He was just trying to take in the pink ponytail when the guy who hadn’t managed to snag one of the two chairs spoke up. "Starings rude, you gremlin."

"Wilbur!" The man who seemed to be normal, and probably also an adult, turned around in his chair to swat at 'Wilbur'. The freakishly tall guy just took a step back with a sh*t-eating grin. Tommy knew for a fact that they wouldn’t be getting along.

"Techno, can you go take them for food?" The pink haired weird man just nodded at the guy who was apparently supposed to be his foster dad. It was definitely a great sign that he was already trying to get rid of Tommy. Phil hadn't even bothered to acknowledge him since he burst into the room swearing. Which might’ve been a tiny bit his fault, but still.

Tommy would probably be back in less than a week. He watched as Phil passed off his keys and card to Techno. Once they were alone, he would have to make a comment about that being the worst name he had ever heard. Which was saying something since he used to be friends with a guy whose name was f*cking spelled ‘Rhyiane’.

If either of them were the type to beat the sh*t out of him, then it was better to find out sooner rather than later. Being an asshole was the best way to get people to go off. He had apparently zoned out harder than he intended, because he blinked and suddenly the Techno guy was in his face.

He wasn't taller by much, but it was enough to be intimidating as he loomed over him. He was also in a bright red sweatshirt with some unfamiliar school logo on it. It reflected off of the sunglasses and made his pupils look almost crimson. Like some sh*tty anime vampire.

"You're in the door." His voice was deep and rough enough to add to the demeanor of unnerving the sh*t out of him. Tommy didn't say anything, but moved to the side to get out of the guys’ way. They both just stood in the hallway once they were out of the room, looking at him expectantly.

"Phil just told you that we don't know how to get out." Wilbur definitely hated him already. He sounded just like Mariah.

"You're a bitch." Tommy spat, turning and walking away from the pair before either of them could respond.

"You f*cking gremlin child!" Wilbur didn't even pretend to whisper it. Techno was just plainly not talking, which was somehow worse as he and Wilbur started getting into it.

His new 'brothers' sucked.

---

Tommy felt bad for whoever ended up serving them. What looked like two grown men and a child wandered in, took a seat all the way in the back of the sh*tty Denny's, and stared at each other silently. He would've been fine with fast food, but apparently Wilbur wanted a f*cking milkshake. To be fair, he was also the only one that suggested something.

He had been just as quiet as Techno once they got in the car, a lot less ballsy once they were in a secluded place. Not to mention it would hurt a lot more if he pissed the pink haired guy off and he wrecked the car. He didn’t question why the brunette didn’t drive since he was an ass. He probably drove like sh*t.

The waitress was understandably uncomfortable when she did show up. "What can I get you to drink?" Her tone was about as friendly as he expected it to be.

Tommy wasn't paying attention, but between the time he looked down at his menu and back at her, Wilbur had said something that he hadn't bothered listening to. He must've complimented her or something because she seemed much more relaxed than before. She also just walked away from their table before he got to order.

Techno spoke up for the first time in the last twenty minutes, making Tommy hold onto whatever degeneracy that was about to come out of his mouth. "I didn't want a milkshake." Wilbur turned to him instead of Techno, their eyes meeting from across the table. He was suddenly smiling like he had just heard something funny.

"You both get milkshakes."

Chapter 3

Chapter Text

"Why'd you order for me?" Tommy was a reasonable amount of pissed over it. So one of his new 'brothers' was a weird scene kid, and the other was a f*cking control freak.

"We're bonding. Anyways, show him." Wilbur was elbowing Techno with an expression that seemed a bit too malicious despite the fact that he was smiling. He was suddenly aware of how easy it would be for the two to murder him since he had no way to call for help. Any of the payphones on this side of town were always stripped or smashed.

"Now?" He was actively paying attention to the two of them, now that he was feeling antsy. He realized that Techno was not in fact tugging at his collar. He was picking at the edge of what looked like a golden choker.

It was about an inch thick, and he considered if it was plastic. Why would pink bitch wear solid gold? It would've looked out of place on him if Tommy wasn't already disappointed in the way the guy chose to dress.

"Either he knows now, or we wait until Phil decides." Whatever they were talking about was clearly something that Tommy's new legal guardian didn't want him to know about. Which wasn't suspicious at ALL. His growing panic was interrupted by the waitress coming back with their drinks.

He wasn't particularly against the strawberry milkshake, but he would've been fine with water. She set their cups in front of them before speaking. He was surprised that they were actually glass milkshake cups.

"Ready to order?" She seemed to be in a much better mood than before.

Tommy flipped open the menu, fully intending to just point at one of the pictures. Wilbur went off and ordered himself four plates of food in half a breath. It was weird considering how thin the guy was, but it did give him enough time to actually decide on something. He gave the woman his order once the brunette finished, and she took their menus before just walking away.

Was pinkie not eating?Techno was honestly an enigma, but his silence was less upsetting than Wilbur's bitching. So he was steadily becoming his favorite out of the two.

"We can just show him." Tommy wasn't sure what he needed to be shown, but he was sure that he would be just fine without.

"Fine. Tommy." The blond begrudgingly picked his head up at his name, focusing on Techno instead of his drink. He physically braced himself for whatever was going to happen. Hopefully it was a joke and he would just get punched or something.

He watched him grab his sunglasses and slip them off, setting them down on his placemat. Their gazes met, and Tommy was actually at a loss for words.

His mouth was apparently hanging open, because a straw paper shot across the table and jabbed his tongue. "What the f*ck!" The blond quickly went from confused to pissed as he tried to find his own straw paper to throw at Wilbur.

"Starings rude." The brunette was smirking like it was some kind of joke he didn't get.

"'Starings rude'. His eyes are f*cking red!" He probably would've been more concerned about causing a scene if he wasn't freaking the f*ck out.

"It's a birth defect, you f*cking gremlin." Wilbur shot back, his ingenuine smile finally dropping enough for him to not look creepy as sh*t.

"I wouldn't call albinism a 'defect'." Techno grumbled. Tommy turned to him to say something only to pause as he focused on his eyes. They definitely weren't contacts. Even the really expensive fancy ones had a little ring that made them easy to spot.

"You're both f*cking weird."

---

Apparently Wilbur had ordered for Techno as well, which made more sense than him just eating four plates of food. "He's very anxious around new people." Was apparently his reasoning. Tommy couldn't articulate a response as he watched said 'anxious' guy inhale the salmon and broccoli off of his first plate in less than a minute. He ate like a stray dog that had mastered a fork.

"Okay." He eventually squeaked out, trying to find something else to look at. He had just gotten himself a breakfast meal to poke at. For some reason, Wilbur thought that it was a good idea to have pie with his milkshake.

Tommy was an irresponsible child, but he even knew that that was a lot of sugar. It also seemed kind of gross. He tuned out everything around him so he could eat in peace, relaxing as everything seemed to go silent around him like it always did once he focused his attention on the static.

He was taking a bite of his toast when he suddenly felt like puking, his stomach churning like it did when he had the flu. He felt too warm and it wasn't helping him to fight the urge to vomit on the table.

He outright stole the cup of water Techno had gotten at some point and drained it, the cold liquid helping to calm his stomach momentarily. He was sure that the guy would’ve agreed that it was better than the alternative. Not that Tommy would bother trying to explain himself.

"I was drinking that." Techno cut through the silence of the static wrapped around him, and suddenly he was hearing the background noise again. The feeling seemed to fade away as the silence was filled. He finished what was left in the cup, though.

"I needed it." It technically wasn't a lie, but he felt a little guilty about being sh*tty to Techni. He hadn't been a douchebag like Wilbur.

"Sorry." Tommy added, going back to his toast. "Phil said we have to go shopping for you once we pick him up." Wilbur was tapping away loudly on his phone, slurping obnoxiously from his empty cup as he did so. Was he really slurping the whipped cream through the straw just to make noise?

He wasn't excited to get formally introduced to Phil considering how underwhelming his kids were.

---

"It's nice to finally meet you, dude." Tommy stared at the outstretched hand. He actually had food in his stomach and a tad bit of sleep in him, so he was more willing to play along. He could pretend to be pleasant for a bit since they did bother to feed him

"Same, big man." He smiled and shook Phil's hand with false enthusiasm, a fake grin tugging on his lips.

"Did Wilbur tell you that we're gonna take you shopping?" He wanted to scoff at Phil’s words. Was he supposed to believe him? No one willingly wasted money on whatever straggler they decided to take home.

He nodded, still trying to seem polite for the time being. He knew from experience that he wouldn't last for more than maybe a day or two, but it was enough to get back to his new 'home'. Long enough to gauge the f*ckers he would be stuck living with, and more than enough time to figure out his escape plan. It didn’t take very long to look up the local bus schedules.

"Cool. You can have the front seat." Phil just continued to the car casually.

He shot a look at the doors of the group home, and back to the car with the men he would be living with for a week. Maybe two if he kept his friendly persona up. He threw a rude gesture behind him as he sprinted over to the car, throwing the door open haphazardly. He must've startled Wilbur since he nearly dropped his phone on himself.

"Will, Tommy gets the front." Thankfully Phil spoke up before the brunette could bitch. Which he definitely would’ve.

Tommy couldn't figure out why he was freezing the second he sat down. He was actually shivering by the time he was buckled, for f*ck’s sake! He couldn’t see his breath in front of him, but he wouldn’t have been surprised if he did. Even his ass was cold!

"He turns the heat down." Phil reached over and hit some button before turning the knob on his side. His seat was suddenly getting warm underneath him, and the cold air from the vents was replaced with a nice temperature.

"Thanks." He mumbled, hoping he came off as shy and not bitchy.

If he did seem bitchy, Phil just took it in stride. He was soon talking about everything they would need to get. His, "If you don't like the color of your room, we can take a day to paint it.", really caught him off guard. It seemed a bit like a semi-permanent decision. It was probably just some trick to get him to want to stay longer. The man didn't pause his rambling at Tommy's silence, who hadn't spoken more than a word since they had gotten into the car. He refused to admit that he didn’t find his warm tone oddly soothing.

He felt bad about Phil wanting to buy stuff for him and all, but what the f*ck was a comforter?

Chapter 4

Chapter Text

Tommy started his morning in the police station. Yet he somehow ended up in the bedding aisle of Walmart, staring at the packages before him. Phil had made it clear that he had to pick one. He would usually try to be more defiant, but he was also tired and dreading the promise of a long car ride.

"This one." He eventually found a set that was pretty cheap without being too ugly. Phil made a face as he threw it into the cart. He opened his mouth like he wanted to say something, but stopped himself.

"We still need to get you something to entertain yourself." Phil eventually did speak up. It was his turn to make a face.

He didn't like buying stuff, and Phil already made him pick out soap and stuff. He didn't want a $6 toothbrush or name brand deodorant. Anything that the man could make him feel indebted over was something he could do without.

"Can I get these?" Tommy used Wilbur distracting Phil over something stupid as an opportunity to slip away.

It would be pretty stupid to just bolt out of the store, but he needed a to take a break. His plan was to hang around the aisle near the bathroom, so he could cover and say he had to piss or something if he was caught. It always worked, even if whoever he was with didn’t believe him. It wasn’t like he was shoplifting. Yet.

Apparently the shelves in the back of the store were where the hunting and fishing stuff was displayed. He was going to hide near the bait and tackles when he spotted an ugly red sweatshirt tucked in the one aisle. Techno's sweatshirt happened to be the same shade as his horrid backpack, which was probably part of the reason he reflexively hated the color.

"What're you doing?" He blurted, seeing the boy fiddling with something. He had been stepping closer until he saw that it was an axe. The way he instantly tensed before tossing it back on the shelf made it even more suspicious.

"Nothin'."

Tommy cut his break short and immediately headed back to where Phil was still arguing with Wilbur about the pillow pet.

---

"You want me to get a toy so you can get a toy?" Tommy wasn't sure why he felt so insulted. Wilbur was definitely older than him by at least a few years. Unfortunately, the brunette was his option for 'supervision' since Techno had decided to show up and follow Phil around like some kind of fluorescent dog. An axe-wielding, fluorescent dog.

"It's not a toy, Tommy. It's a stuffed seal that has a secret pocket. Besides, Phil's gonna make you get a stuffed animal. His only experience is with younger kids." Wilbur was describing a toy to him.

He swatted the stuffed seal out of his face, less willing to go along with whatever Wilbur wanted after he tried to smack him in the head with it several times. Apparently he had been right about his 'meal' earlier being nothing but sugar. The guy looked like he was about to pick a direction and start sprinting. Instead, he waved a toy seal around in Tommy’s face.

"Fine." He spent a bit scanning the shelves in front of him, taking in how horrible most of the obnoxiously colored monstrosities were. A good portion of them seemed to be from games he didn't recognize. Or poop-shaped.

"I like this one." He really didn't. It was a stuffed bee that was a fat oval shape with weird little eyes that didn’t match it’s head. He went to grab it and discovered that it was actually incredibly soft. He was marvelling silently at how velvety the monstrosity was when Wilbur was suddenly speaking to him.

"If he tells you that you can go to school tomorrow, you say yes. You'll probably just walk around all day anyways." He seemed too pushy about it, so Tommy just shrugged.

"What if I say no?" He didn't have a problem with going to school. He was good at making people like him. He didn’t want Wilbur to think he was agreeing with him, though.

"You're going because Phil works, and I don't trust you to not bolt the second you're all alone." That was not the answer he was expecting. Wilbur was suddenly glaring down at him, making him feel a lot smaller than he was. "If you wanna run so bad, join the f*cking track team. You're not allowed to make this harder on Phil."

Tommy found out that he had been shuffling back once he was pressed against the aluminum shelving. The cold against his spine didn’t stop the burning hickory gaze that was burrowing into the front of his skull. He just gave a curt nod, words failing him.

Wilbur was suddenly scarier than Techno.

---

"I know it's a long ride. You can pick the station if you want?" Phil had been trying too hard to be nice to him, and it was starting to make him feel bad. Not bad, guilty.

Tommy just shrugged and leaned back in his seat. He tried to be as stealthy as possible as he unwrapped a piece of gum from inside his pocket. He might've stolen some on accident. He noticed them near the register without any sort of anti-theft sticker on them. So he waited until Phil was inadvertently distracting the woman.

It was one of the many useful skills he picked up from his years in the systems. He needed something to settle his stomach, and he didn't see the harm in taking something that was worth less than a dollar. It wasn’t like they had strolled past an aisle with Tums in it.

He crumpled the stick into a relatively small ball while it was still in his pocket, focusing his gaze outside as he popped it into his mouth. He grimaced at the cheap mint taste. It explained why it wasn't worth very much. He would've been more upset at the quality if he had paid for it, so if anything he just did himself a favor.

"Can I have a piece?" Tommy flinched when Phil spoke up, the silence of the car having only been broken by the noise of the engine and of Techno tapping away at something on his phone.

"Sure thing, big man." He fished another stick of sh*tty off-brand gum out of his pocket and passed it over. Phil somehow managed to unwrap it with one hand and toss it into his mouth.

Tommy finally decided to try and turn the radio on, instantly hating all the stations. He hated the 'modern pop' one the least, though. It was at least playing something he recognized. He turned once Phil cleared his throat, wondering for a moment if he was about to begin old-man hacking. Hopefully he had the decency to pull over before he died from choking. It wouldn’t be his worst car ride if he didn’t.

"You don't have to steal, y'know." He bristled at that, being caught off guard by the comment. He didn't have a chance to try and lie his way out of it before Phil continued.

"I mean, I get it if you physically can't help it. That's a real thing, dude. There's therapy and sh*t for that." Tommy wanted to feel like he was being lectured, but his tone was unfamiliarly warm as he spoke. He felt like it was an actual, two-sided conversation instead of him just being yelled at.

"They both had issues we had to work through too, so don't think I'm upset. I know the systems f*cked. I wouldn't have agreed to take you home if I didn't want to work with you."

Phil was weirdly nice to him, and it was really freaking him out. He seemed genuine and fatherly as he spoke. He wasn't used to it, and it just made him assume that the guy was really good at lying. Hopefully he could get sent back sooner rather than later. He would really hate it if he had to put up with any of them for much longer than a week.

They would probably get sick of him, too.

Chapter 5

Chapter Text

Tommy fell asleep at some point in the ride. He had a light and dreamless sleep that pretty much just replaced his boredom from staring out the window. The interior lights of the car were suddenly on, so he cracked his eyes open to take in his surroundings. Not that he could see much after getting blinded.

The music was off, and he saw from the fading radio display that they had been in the car for nearly two hours. He was still trying to get an idea of his surroundings when his door was thrown open and something was bounced off his f*cking face.

He would've been more upset if it didn't register it as the obnoxiously soft bee toy. Wilbur was looming over him from where he was sitting, noticeably more ominous with how dark it was outside.

"Your sh*t's in your room. You wanna go to school tomorrow."

It was definitely not a question. More of a threatening reminder. He was suddenly all alone outside, subconsciously clutching the toy to his chest for some kind of comfort in the dark.

He finished blinking the sleep out his eyes to realize that he was in the middle of the woods. The forest was endless past the edges of the lawn, and the only break was the driveway that disappeared between more trees. He had no idea where the nearest civilization even was. He also definitely heard something skittering out past the tree line. He couldn't gauge how big it was, but there was a very real chance that it was bigger than the stray dog or alley cat he was used to.

Needless to say he got to the porch in a few strides. He went to open the door, and was suddenly aware of what he was about to be walking into. He had no way of escaping if something went bad. Once he was inside, he had to be on his best behavior. He was genuinely terrified. More so of the people waiting inside compared to whatever was lurking in the woods.

Though, Wilbur wanting him to go to school in the morning seemed much more appealing than it had earlier. He would be able to learn his surroundings a bit, and probably get himself sent back early if he really needed to.

He was a master at sobbing on command. He could only force himself to ugly cry and sob, so he usually didn’t unless it was an actual emergency. Not that it mattered if he embarrassed himself. It was one of the few perks of being in a new town every couple of weeks. He didn’t have to face whatever impression he left on people.

Tommy opened the screen door and swung the main door open, peering in to make sure that it was safe. Pink hair popped into the hallway momentarily, red eyes focusing on him.

"Your's is the last one on the left." He brought some kind of juice box to his mouth before disappearing from sight.

Tommy ignored the pile of shoes by the door as he found the stairs. The wooden stairs were the same color as the walls. Everything looked like it was made of wood, so hopefully nothing caught on fire. Not that he had anything to lose.

He was still trying to process the fact that he was in the middle of nowhere. He wasn't one to explore in nature a whole bunch in the first place. Hell, the best he got was a strip of trees next to a main road that bordered a suburb he lived in for about six days. The family had really sucked, and sent him out to play in it with the kids his age in the neighborhood. They seemed pretty upset when he ended up slicing his entire palm open from a smashed bottle that apparently blended into the leaves.

He usually didn’t explore places that had leaves blanketing the ground because of it. He learned the hard way how easily brown glass blended into dead leaves. But that also meant that he was confident that he was basically trapped in the house with the three of them.

Tommy kicked the door shut behind him like he did at the group home, not liking how loud the heavy wood was as it slammed shut. He was too accustomed to the hollow thud that the plywood door gave. f*ck, he needed to remember where he was at. A look at the bed in the center of the room made that easier.

Everything from the uncomfortable shopping trip earlier was stacked neatly on his bed, most of it already out of its packaging and displayed nicely. He felt like he was in some kind of hotel, especially since he apparently got his own room. It didn't look thrown together, either.

There was an actual desk and wardrobe, and a nightstand beside the bed that was pushed against the wall. It was noticeably bigger than his room at the group home. It was... cozy? The space itself seemed safe and welcoming in a way that instantly made him uncomfortable.

Tommy decided on putting away the things that had been bought for him, leaving his belongings in his bag since he didn’t want to mix his own things with Phil’s. It barely took him twenty to get everything situated, but he realized how tired he still was as he took in his handiwork. He did a good job.

Actually, he probably put the sheet on wrong. But it was something he never had to do before. He never had a reason to learn stuff like that. He briefly wondered about how he was expected to get up for school, but assumed that Wilbur would wake him up if he wanted him to go that bad. If he wanted to threaten him, he could be an alarm clock.

He kicked his sneakers off by the door before he flicked the light off, using the sparse moonlight coming through the window to find his bed. It was in better shape than he was used to.

He fell asleep all the same

---

He stared down at the cold blade in his hands. The thin black metal made the sparse lights from above him twist into thin slashes. They looked like teeth.

Everything was cold. Very, very cold. His breath hung in the air before dissolving like wisps of smoke getting caught in the wind

The cold seemed into his lower half more. Looking down showed why, since the congealed mahogany slime was soaked into the bottom of his jeans and his socks. It was thicker than the stains made it look, since his muscles were soon burning from the strain it took to pull from the mass.

He heard something whispering off further to his left, hidden below the layer of the thick sludge. He kept moving, feeling as though they would come for him if he paused to consider them. The words they spoke with made him brain throb, as though it wasn't for his ears.

There was a particularly large noise behind him, like one of the false words had been shouted. There was nothing but the foreboding blackness. All around him there was black. It was an endless hellscape of ink, and all he had was a knife to protect him from the whispers coming from the sludge.

He turned back, and paused as he saw that there was actually something there. His legs were screaming at him as he moved towards it, desperate for a savior amongst the dark syrup that whispered horrific noises not meant for his ears.

As he got closer, he saw that it was a bathtub. The syrup was nestled against the sides of it, staining past the glaze cured over the porcelain. It was an older kind of tub, with legs that held it up. Not that the majority of the legs could be seen from under the coating of the inky tar.

There was a child leaning back in the tub, their skin blue. They were pale. Horribly, sickeningly pale. Their skin was still blemished and red from the scrubbing, more noticeable against the eggshell tub. Their lips were cut and bruised, mouth hanging open to display the swollen injuries pressed against their tongue.

He moved closer, looming over them. The whispers were chanting something that he couldn't quite hear. It sounded closer to a language he knew, though. They wanted something from him.

He was busy marvelling at the unnaturally sharp teeth nestled behind the broken rose lips. Were they pale from whatever blood they had already lost? He wasn't allowed to worry about it.

Something warm and wet guided his hand, easing the blade to point over the child's throat. He heard them again, speaking mortal words to him. The slotches of burgundy made him realize that it had been a mass of the sludge that had guided him. He knew what it wanted.

What they wanted.

Who was he to deny them? He felt himself raise the blade, bringing it down with as much force as he could. "Blood for the Blood God." He assured the owner of the crimson orbs, wrenching the knife to the side.

The sharp pain in the back of his head was the last thing he could recall from the weird dream.

Chapter 6

Chapter Text

Tommy woke up to the noise of knocking, his eyes peeling open to see Wilbur looming over him. The sun peeking through the window was reflecting off of the glasses he was wearing, effectively shining directly into his eyes. For some reason, the older boy reeked of bleach.

"If you don't come down for breakfast, we're eating your share." The brunette just strode away after that. He managed to blink the sleep out of his eyes as he threw the covers off of himself.

He was suddenly aware of his lack of socks as his feet hit the wood flooring. The entire house seemed to be cold, actually. He considered just going back to sleep, but his stomach grumbling reminded him about the promise of breakfast. He made his way down the stairs, basically shivering by the time he actually got to the kitchen. The flames from the stove being on made the room a lot warmer than the rest of the house.

Phil was poking at something in a pan, and turned when he heard the boy approaching.

"Hey Toms!" The man's smile seemed genuine and heartfelt, and honestly it made his stomach churn uncomfortably. Everyone was still in their pajamas, like a bunch of weirdos. He never really understood the concept of wearing something just to sleep in. It was much more efficient to just sleep in the clothes you wore the day before, and change in the morning. "You can sit at the end if you don't want to get cornered."

He blinked at Phil as he processed what was said. Apparently he had been staring at the table without moving, seemingly focused on his chair as he zoned out.

"I'm good." Phil didn't seem like the kind to stab him, and he really doubted that Techno would come over the table at him. He shuffled over to the seat in the corner, and plopped himself down. He poked at his eggs while looking across the table, seeing what the other two were doing.

Wilbur was dipping his toast in what looked like a pile of steak sauce on his plate, which was gross. Techno was dumping honey into what looked like a cup of coffee. He took a forkful and ate it, immediately confused by what was in his mouth.

"These taste weird." He grumbled mostly to himself. They were also bigger than what seemed normal, so he could only assume how big the actual eggs were. He just got a snort from Wilbur at the opposite end of the table.

"A lot of our neighbors have chickens, so they're fresh." Phil chimed in from where he was at the stove. Tommy wasn't convinced, but cleaned his plate anyways. It was a pretty simple breakfast, but it was filling. Apparently Phil had been cooking for himself last, since he plated his meal before sitting down. Tommy tried to ignore Techno, who was still pouring honey into his coffee. He had quite literally filled the cup half of the way with hot coffee just to fill it the rest of the way with honey.

Phil seemed to notice his staring, and snatched the bottle away from Techno. "Stop being Wilbur. You'll make yourself sick."

There was an offended noise from the guy who was still dipping his toast in steak sauce. "I am sick." Techno rasped, his voice barely above a mild whisper. Phil made a face at him, but didn't return the bottle.

"Honey helps with a sore throat. Drinking the whole bottle isn't going to make you not sick." If he wasn't still waking up, Tommy would've been laughing by how stupid and (seemingly) obvious that statement was.

"Tommy wants to go to school today." Wilbur chimed in, seemingly out of toast to sop up his steak sauce. So he started dipping his eggs in it. Techno was starting to seem more and more normal by comparison.

"You don't have school today. It's Saturday?" That had Tommy laughing. Not a lot, but enough that Wilbur started glaring at him. He didn't keep track of the days when he didn't need to, so it was funny to think that Wilbur was just a clueless idiot.

"We could show him around." Techno rasped, cutting himself off before he said anything else.

"You sound like sh*t." Tommy had no idea why Wilbur kicked him under the table because he couldn’t have been the only one thinking it.

"That's a bad way of putting it, but he's right. Wilbur can show you around the school since he's not sick." Wilbur's attitude did a complete 180.

"It's Saturday! I could show him around town and sh*t! I can drive so he doesn't have to walk to find everything." Phil nodded like he was considering it.

"Nope. Go get dressed. Tommy, do you have clothes?" Him shrugging was enough of a yes for Phil to go back to eating. Tommy shoved the rest of his food in his mouth and chugged the cup of water in front of him, fully intending to be the first one away from the table.

Once he finished up, he rinsed his plate in the sink before leaving his dishes. "So last night-" Phil was saying something, but if it was directed at him, he was busy walking away. He wasn't in the mood to try and be social with any of them. Wilbur and Techno both ate like they didn't know how food worked, and he wasn't excited to see if they learned it from Phil.

A bottle of honey in the coffee seemed a bit worse than steak sauce toast.

---

Tommy had a twenty shoved into the pocket of his jeans, sporting his darker pair and a red sleeved baseball shirt. Phil told him at some point that Wilbur had a phone in case anything went wrong. He wasn't convinced that Wilbur would actually call an adult at the first sign of things going to sh*t. Hell, Wilbur's definition of danger would probably be completely different than his.

Somehow everything was about ten degrees warmer than when he woke up. It probably had something to do with the sun actually being up. The grass was wet for some godforsaken reason, so the bottom of his jeans were soaked by the time he was actually seated. Wilbur was plainly ignoring him while he tapped away at his phone, which Tommy hoped he would not do while driving. He wouldn't be able to actually stop him if he did. Hopefully he would just wreck the car on the driver's side. Wilbur decided to break the silence once he seemed to finish whatever he was doing.

"Once we get there, don't say anything to anyone. The sports teams are all out and about, same with most of the kids doing detention. Don't make eye contact with anyone I don't introduce you to. Don't f*ck this up."

Wilbur's little 'pep talk' just filled him with confidence and security.

Chapter 7

Chapter Text

The car ride was mostly silent , so it was a nice opportunity to take in his surroundings. The ten minutes it took them to break the trees was pretty sh*tty. It would be impossible to run from the house. The road they got on was also swallowed by the trees, with a few driveways or modest houses perched along it. They were in the middle of f*cking nowhere. The first thing he saw once they broke through the thick trees was a f*cking field .

Across the expansion of some plant he couldn't identify, there was a blue how and a f*cking silo in the distance. He was confident that he wouldn’t get very far even if he tried. Hopefully the ‘town’ they were going to was bigger.

"If I unlock the car and the first thing you do bolt, I'm sicking Clay on you." Wilbur threw out, apparently having noticed how he had been taking in his surroundings. It was another ten minutes before they got to a place that looked semi-civilized, and the houses were still over half a mile apart.

"He couldn't catch me." Tommy challenged. That got him a snort from Wilbur. He wasn’t planning on running since they were in the middle of nowhere.

"If he can't, I'll actually pay you." The brunette being so sure should've been a sign that this 'Clay' guy was speedy, but Tommy just heard an opportunity to get money.

"Bet." The houses were getting closer together, and he saw that the trees were gone enough for him to see further. That was definitely a school in the distance.

"I'll bet you fifty bucks that he's faster-"

"You said catch. Fifty if he can't catch me." Tommy had a smile growing, knowing for a fact that he was craftier than he looked. He might've failed any test put in front of him, but he could read any situation he was in like it was an open book with the key words highlighted.

"Fine. I'll give you fifty dollars if Clay can't pin you. Hell, I'll give you fifty more if you can pin him." That definitely should've been a sign that he wouldn't be winning.

Wilbur pulled into a parking lot alongside the school and threw the car into park. Tommy waited until he shut everything off and unlocked it before tugging on the handle. He quite literally kicked it open and started sprinting, taking off down the sidewalk. He ignored Wilbur shouting behind him, laughter already rising out of him as he was already a good distance away.

Tommy was confident in himself.

---

Tommy was no longer confident in himself. The guy who was apparently the one Wilbur threatened to 'sick' on him, Clay if he remembered correctly, was faster than he should've been for how big he was. He had two brunettes following behind him, one of which was Wilbur. His 'brother' was already red in the face and falling behind while the other two seemed completely unbothered.

Tommy was thankfully right about the road leading to a more populated area, the large stone buildings coming into sight as he sprinted down the incline. He passed one or two locals who shot him a weird look, but quickly got off of the sidewalk once they saw the three guys chasing after him. He hated to think about how often this happened if they were treating it like it was a normal occurrence.

He felt something grab at the back of his shirt, and he immediately panicked. He couldn't afford to turn around, but the guy giggling right behind him was a pretty good indicator. He tried to figure out a gameplan before he was suddenly going on his face, someone four times his weight throwing him forward. They twisted in the air, but the guy had him bear hugged to his chest as they hit the ground. Thankfully Mr. Meatwall took most of the impact for him.

"What the f*ck! Let me go you bitch!" Tommy immediately began struggling, but the guy just squeezed him until he stopped. The guy was suddenly getting up, having him pinned to his chest with his arm. The ugly neon lime sweatshirt he had on made him a furnace, but Tommy couldn't kick at him because the slight difference in height was enough for him to not be able to touch the ground.

He was facing the direction that had the shorter guy and Wilbur, the latter of which seemed close to either puking or passing out.

"Wilbur you're an asshole!" He barked, his voice cracking painfully in the middle of his insult. He got flipped off in response as the wheeze directed at him didn't form any actual response.

"You should put him down." The unfamiliar guy directed at the douchebag holding him. He was wearing swim goggles to push his hair back, and his shorts weren't actual pants.

"Sorry. But don't run again." He threw his elbow back uselessly as his feet were touching the ground. "George! He's also british!" Tommy tuned the two out as he waited for Wilbur to compose himself enough to yell at him.

"Tommy what the f*ck was that? Wilbur had apparently caught his breath enough to get in his face and start yelling at him.

"You're the one that said you'd pay me if I got away."

---

Apparently retelling the conversation from the car had this Clay guy making the most horrendous squealing noise as he laughed. 'George' seemed more upset about it. Wilbur was outright pissed at him.

"Ignore Wilbur. He smashed a window the one day because Schlatt sprayed mustard down his shirt." Clay seemed happy to fill the silence while talking about people he had never heard of before.

Tommy saw the school coming back into view after more walking, and realized that he had run farther than he originally thought. It was probably a stupid idea, but it was good information to know that Wilbur couldn't keep up with him.

"We're going to the pool. If he tries to run again, try tying him to something like a dog." Clay got smacked in the back of the head by George for that.

"He means that you'll have to find someone else to help. Nick's working, so tell him to take his break and cut him off on mainstreet if you have to." George's accent was definitely the same region as his and Wilbur's. But with that, Clay was dragging him away to inside of the school building.

"I can't believe you f*cking did that." Wilbur grabbed his wrist too hard and started dragging him towards the other side of the building. There was something fenced in and a hill that connected to another patch of impenetrable woods.

"I can't believe you thought I wouldn't." Tommy shot back, grinning despite how close Wilbur seemed to beating his ass. If he tried, he could plainly run away since Wilbur apparently sucked at running.

"If you don't behave around my friends, I'm locking you in the field shed." He lost a bit of his defiance after that comment. He didn't seem to be joking, and Tommy definitely had no way of finding aid besides screaming.

Chapter 8

Chapter Text

"Will! That your new housemate?" The girl with her feet propped up on the bench she was perched on had an accent that sounded closer to Phil's if he was raised in an alley. That mixed with the purple hair was giving him some weird vibes.

"Unfortunately-" She dropped her phone and immediately started glaring at him.

"f*ck you, Wilbur. Tommy, I'm Minx." She was suddenly getting to her feet, and the first thing she did was smack Wilbur's wrist hard enough that he dropped Tommy's. "You're gonna f*ckin' bruise him!"

It kind of funny to see Minx get in Wilbur's face.

"He bolts, Minx. Or are you sprinting after the gremlin child in your platform boots?" Wilbur spat. The two started getting into it, so Tommy used the opportunity to sneak away. He had gotten them out of sight when someone grabbed the back of his shirt and yanked, cutting his air off for a split second as whoever did it started yelling.

"Wilbur! You're sh*t at babysitting!" The guy was suddenly dragging him back to the pair like a dog, which he had to go along with if he didn't want to be choked out.

"Like you're- TOMMY! WHAT THE f*ck!" Wilbur looked close to murdering him, and the guy who was dragging him dropped his collar so he could get out of the crossfire.

"It's not babysitting if it's f*ckin' Toby." Minx growled, seemingly ready to direct her aggression from Wilbur to the new guy. Tommy got a good look at him, and immediately hated him on instinct. He looked like the type of guy in a superhero movie to bully the main character because his dad was rich.

"I could tell you where Toby is, Minx. Wilbur's kid was sneaking the f*ck away. If anything, you two should be thanking me." Wilbur and Minx both flipped the guy off, which just had him laughing.

"If it's so easy, then you f*cking watch him Schlatt!" Wilbur spat at him. The guy just laughed and crossed his arms.

"What're you offering me in exchange for my services?" Wilbur's expression changed immediately. "We both know you carry your sh*t on Saturday."

What sh*t? Minx was suddenly getting between them, grabbing his arm in a much nicer grip than Wilbur had used. She still seemed ready to beat the sh*t out of one of the other guys even as she kept Tommy close to her. She leaned closer to whisper to him, her glare never leaving the Schlatt guy’s smirk.

"Tommy, don't let this slimy f*cker sell you a vape."

Chapter 9

Chapter Text

Wilbur had dumped his argument about ‘why we didn’t sell drugs to Tommy’ off on Minx, who seemed happy to smack Schlatt as she yelled at him. Schlatt was saying something about 'vulnerable personnel’ and Minx was practically shaking him by the shoulders when Wil suddenly spoke up. Tommy was the first to acknowledge him, and immediately regretted it. His eyes were wide and his face was pale by the time he got off of the phone call Tommy didn't notice him take.

"We're in f*cking trouble." was as much of an explanation as any of them got before Wilbur was sprinting away towards the parking lot.

---

The ride in the car was tense and it was scaring the sh*t out of Tommy. Wilbur was shaking even though he hadn't turned the air on, and his knuckles were white from his grip on the wheel. He was driving exactly the speed limit, and physically flinched if he went over by accident. This could not have been the same guy that twenty minutes ago had been threatening to smash Schlatt's headlights and windshield in with a brick.

Tommy's forehead bounced off of the dashboard when Wilbur slammed on the breaks. He was about to start bitching when he saw the older boy already leaving with the keys. They were in front of Phil's house already. He definitely wasn't concussed, but he might as well have been. Wilbur almost went on his face getting to the porch, his foot hitting something wrong as he landed on his knees.

Phil threw the door open, and opened his mouth to begin yelling as he saw Tommy standing next to the empty car. His expression completely changed when he saw Wilbur on the ground in front of him. "f*cking- Tommy, please go inside. I'll deal with Wil." He would've been fine with doing that if he didn't get close and see that Wilbur was sobbing without making a single noise.

"Tommy! Get inside PLEASE!" Apparently his pause had Phil making the same expression he had on from when he burst through the door. The blond felt like he was about to get his ass beat, so naturally he stepped over the crying Wilbur and quickly fled into the house. He hurriedly kicked his shoes off as well, trying to reduce the amount of things Phil could possibly get mad at him for.

For as much as he had tried to see how abusive the guy really was, he was scared to finally find out. "Couch!" Being shouted through the door before it was slammed in his face somehow managed to rattle him more.

This was not the same guy who tried to get him ice cream in Walmart to try and 'make him feel better'. Hell, it wasn't the same guy he spoke to on the phone about how sh*t his day was. It was like some switch had flipped. Which was usually a kind of triumph, since Tommy ended up getting sent back to the home afterwards. He wasn't able to run away this time. Hell, if he picked a direction and sprinted, he'd probably just get lost once it got dark.

He paused at the scene in the living room, reluctant to situate himself on the couch. There was a towel that had been white at some point soaked in what looked like blood. Like sopping wet with a trash bag laid under it so it didn't stain the wooden coffee table. Techno was sipping out of a carton of what looked like coconut water. Their eyes met briefly before he was quickly finding something else to look at. His ugly sweatshirt from yesterday was gone, leaving his arms and neck exposed from his shirt.

His choker was still clamped around his neck, but Tommy was suddenly thankful that he had forgotten about wanting to mock his name. Techno could easily beat his ass in a fight. His biceps were the size of his neck, same with his forearms. He was a lot more jacked than he had expected for someone that came off as an edgy scene kid. At least his sunglasses were on.

Tommy sat down as far as he could from the blood-soaked towel. He took another glance at it, and realized that it seemed to be more than one. It was several of them, with what looked like enough blood to have killed someone. He was a lot closer to puking as he realized that it was probably from a person. He knew something had to be wrong with these f*ckers. Was Phil going to kill him too? His mind was suddenly foggy as he was actually on the verge of puking on himself, the reality of the scene in front of him setting in the more he looked at it. The smell hitting him definitely didn’t help to settle his stomach.

He got to his feet as fast as he could, shoving past Phil as he got to the kitchen. Something was being yelled at him, but it was quickly cut off as he started emptying his stomach into the garbage can.

---

"Someone needs to tell me something. We all know I know what happened. I want to hear it from one of you." Phil was trying to be calm again, which was somehow scarier than him just shouting again.

Tommy had been given a cup of lukewarm tea that tasted like dirt, before being sat on the couch next to Wilbur once he had finished throwing up. It had settled his stomach, but he was trying to find something other than the murder towels on the table in front of him to look at. At least the dirt tea stank more than the mess in front of him.

"Or do I have to tell you what happened? Techno doesn't get sick, guys!" Phil was the only one standing, and his pacing was unsettling despite him being the shortest of the four of them.

"We handled it-" Techno had started saying something quietly, but the room got a lot tenser as Phil loomed over him.

"You handled it? What the f*ck is this, then? This is your f*cking blood, isn't it? HOW IS THAT HANDLING IT?"

Phil seemed to back off when he saw the poor guy flinch away from the yelling, but apparently that meant that Wilbur was next. He had been fiddling with the zipper on his jacket, his eyes still glassy from his sobbing earlier. How long had it even been? Tommy hadn't seen a single clock, and it could've been anywhere from an hour to five minutes. The tension in the air made it feel like time was going at a fifth of the speed, so the latter was very possible.

"You did it last night. I know you did, but you have to tell me who it was on. Did someone break in?" Phil was still pretty loud, but he seemed past outright screaming.

Wilbur shrugged, but winced at the sharp inhale he got from Phil. A thumb was lazily jerked in his direction. "Why?" Another lackluster gesture towards the mess on the table. Tommy made eye contact with Phil as something seemed to click in the man's head.

"Tommy. Did you have a dream where you stabbed someone?" His throat was dry in a way that the dirt tea couldn't fix as he nodded. He hadn't thought much about it, but the events of the dream were suddenly burned into his mind like it was a memory.

"Techno. Did he stab you last night?" Phil wasn't focused on him anymore, but he felt like he was about to be in a lot of trouble. Did he f*cking stab Techno in his sleep? In both of their sleeps? Was it attempted murder if he was sleep walking?!

"He stabbed through my throat. But Wilbur heard and he helped me clean up-" He went silent as Phil let out a laugh that was painfully dry.

"You didn't think to wake me up? What, did you two just send Tommy back to his room? Bleach isn't what we use on blood Wilbur!" Tommy's gaze was focused on his cup as he tried to tune out the horrific conversation that was going on.

His breathing felt off, and the tea in his hands was suddenly too warm as he tried to suck in panicked breaths as quietly as he could. He couldn’t risk being loud. Being loud would mean that Phil would notice him. He didn't want Phil to redirect his focus on him. He was scared. Phil was f*cking scaring him.

He heard the shattering of the ceramic before he processed the chunks embedded in his palms, the boiling liquid already soaked into his lap.

Chapter 10

Chapter Text

Tommy felt numb as he watched the blood pool around the chunks of off-white ceramic embedded in his palm. The burning against his stomach and legs felt distant as he stared through himself. He knew it hurt, but it was like he wasn't the one feeling it.

"Uh- Phil?" Wilbur's shaky voice cut through whatever the man had been yelling about, and Tommy was suddenly aware of himself again.

"Hey, uh- I'm bleeding."

The expression the man gave him would've been comical if he wasn't close to crying from the pain.

---

"Sorry for yelling. You guys just-" Phil turned back with a needle full of something, and Tommy instantly went to bolt.

"Tommy, hold still. You won't feel it." Wilbur's voice was suddenly rattling through his skull as he calmly situated himself at the kitchen table. Techno had gone to grab something, and apparently whatever Phil was going to inject him with was just above the cabinet over the microwave.

"I'm going to numb him, and you're going to drop that." Tommy couldn't pick his gaze up from his hands, but he couldn't remember why he should've been panicking about it. He watched as his hand was held down, and the needle pierced the skin. He genuinely couldn't feel any of it, not even the pressure of it breaking through his skin. He wasn't sure how long Phil spent doing whatever it was he was doing, but he couldn’t gauge a reaction on it. He felt empty.

"Drop him. Tommy, please hold still. I can't stress how badly you'll f*ck up your hands if those cut any deeper." Tommy felt the warmth returning to his limbs, and he almost headbutted Phil in the jaw with how fast his head flew up. His hands definitely stung, but they mostly felt cold after whatever was injected into him took effect. "It's just a local anesthetic. Those need stitches, but we have to get the ceramic out."

Phil was suddenly back to the kind man he had been before, but all Tommy could see was the guy who was screaming about the blood. He didn't remember- Yes he did. He sucked in a breath, clenching his eyes shut. He could vaguely remember taking a knife from the block in the kitchen, and he remembered opening his eyes to watch as the poor guy sleep under the covers. He had been asleep on his back, his ugly metallic choker left on the nightstand. It was how he-

"f*ck." Phil was holding a piece of the shattered cup in the tweezers, the ugly blue gloves already smeared with blood. "I can't give you much more, but that was the deepest. Tell me if it's any worse." His tone was soft and parental, almost comforting. Tommy shut his eyes again, trying to breathe as he felt the pieces being removed from under the cuts in his skin. He could hear the metal scraping against the ceramic. He would've been nauseous if he wasn't still full of the dirt tea.

"I found the stitch kit, and I got the plastic dishes. That looks bad." Techno was somewhere off to his right, but he was still trying to not hyperventilate as Phil dug the slivers of the cup out of his palms.

"Thank you. This is my fault, guys. I didn't know he was attuned. Tommy, you need to relax your hands. Lay them flat." He cracked an eye open to try and emulate what he was supposed to, but he got distracted as he saw all of the blood.

"You're calm, Tommy." Wilbur's voice was filling his ears again, and the panic was quickly quelled as he laid his hands down. He couldn't find it in himself to worry as he watched Phil open a package with a curved needle.

"No more after this. You both can't handle it right now." Phil was almost done with the stitches, his hands working methodically as he pinched the skin together before piercing it. It was almost mesmerizing to watch.

As Phil was pulling away, his voice was suddenly returning to him. "What the f*ck is wrong with you people?" His voice cracked painfully, but he was more concerned with the throbbing returning to his hands. He refused to acknowledge how close he was to tears.

"I can't die." Techno chimed in, his voice the infuriating monotone that it always was.

"Don't-" Phil was cut off by Wilbur adding his two cents, the smirk on his face letting Tommy know that he was being an asshole intentionally.

"I can puppeteer people." He wanted to puke again. He nearly grabbed his head in his hands before the pain from his shredded palms stopped him.

"Stop! Both of you! Drink this." There was suddenly a glass vial in front of him, the sickly yellow liquid looking like moldy apple juice. Techno was suddenly in his face, pouring it into a plastic cup he must've just been holding.

"It's safer." Was all the explanation he got.

"Isn't that alcohol?" Wilbur seemed to feel better since he was back to being an asshole. Tommy gripped the cup as gently as he could, almost immediately spitting it out as soon as it touched his tongue. It tasted wrong.

"It's not- Wilbur, stop it. You were freaked out when you came home. Remember the forks?" The older boy was suddenly staring at his lap, any bite having left him.

"Tommy, you really need to drink that."

---

The three of them eventually left the kitchen once Phil got everything cleaned up, but he could hear them in the living room. They were talking amongst themselves, just low enough that he couldn't hear what they were saying. The yellow sludge he was told to drink made him want to puke purely from the texture, but it was actually making him feel better otherwise. He didn't like how chunky it was.

"Tommy? Can you come here?" He didn't want to. He really, really didn't want to. He did, though. Thankfully the mess from earlier was gone, which helped a bit. It didn't help that Phil was sat between the two of them with a foot-wide smile on his face. He really wished that he would just be sent back. He had Mariah's number memorized, and he could probably lie about how he got his hands cut up.

"You should let me explain first." Phil was suddenly looking through him, his smile dropping for a second. Tommy froze, wondering if he had said anything out loud.

"Sit. We need to talk." He listened, taking the lounge chair furthest from them. "So, where do you want to start? I'll be honest with you, promise." The blond didn't trust him. His eyes were the same green they had been when they met, but it felt like he was looking at a completely different man.

"The beginning. Start from the beginning." Tommy didn't want to know any of whatever the f*ck was going on, but he figured that it was better to be horrified than clueless. He needed something to make sense.

"I was raised in an extremist religious group under the high priest. When I turned eighteen, I was to replace him." It felt like the words weren't processing. Phil might as well have been speaking Spanish to him.

"You were in a f*cking cult?"

Chapter 11

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"Murder cult, actually." Techno added as if to try and ease his nerves. Which it naturally did not

"What the f*ck is wrong with you guys?" His voice was a shaky mess, but he was seriously considering just bolting out the door and hoping for the best.

"Let me explain. They, we did some unconventional things that I wasn't aware of. To be inaugurated, you had to..." Phil waved his hand with a sour expression, as if it left a bad taste in his mouth to think about.

"Basically you had to sacrifice someone. That's when I was introduced to Techno, who was apparently used for that quite often since he would 'come back'. I was expected to... I couldn't." Phil sucked a breath in, and he suddenly seemed a lot more human as he fought whatever he was struggling with as he spoke.

Not human enough for Tommy to trust him, though.

"I took him and ran. I reported them to the police, and no one believed me. They almost took him from me because they thought I was dangerous."

"He was only about nine at the time, but it was pretty bad. I found this place being foreclosed after a fire destroyed most of it, so we stayed here and fixed it up." So Tommy was right about how dangerously flammable the mostly wooden house was. Great. Phil wasn't done talking, though.

"I had an old colleague reach out to me about Wilbur a few years later. He was stronger than they wanted, and they didn't like dealing with him. I was told that if I took him, and kept him alive, that I would be forgiven. He was fourteen and..." Phil was crying. Fat, heavy tears were rolling down his cheeks as he spoke.

He was suddenly too uncomfortable to be scared of him, especially since the man seemed so vulnerable.

"Phil was like us, so he showed us how to not hurt ourselves. He raised us." Wilbur had taken over after Techno wandered away. He came back with a box of tissues, offering them to Phil despite how visibly uncomfortable he was.

"There's a lot I can't tell you yet, but you need to know that you're safe here. This town isn't..." Words seemed to have failed him again, and Phil seemed happy to accept the hug Wilbur threw around him.

"I need some air. Tommy?" Techno was suddenly on his feet, his eyes pleading with the boy to follow him.

He could use a break from whatever the f*ck was going on.

---

"So... How's school?" What the guy lacked in mortality, he made up for in how painfully awkward he was to talk to.

"How's f*cking school? I was just told you couldn't die and that Phil took you from a cult when you were a kid." Techno just nodded like he had responded calmly, pushing on his toes to rock the porch swing he had claimed. Tommy hadn't sat down, preferring to lean against the railing to let his leg bounce nervously.

"That's true." It was like talking to a wall.

"Why don't you give me answers? What's with the f*cking collar? Why's your hair pink? You can't die! Explain something to me!" He didn't realize he was getting louder until he saw Techno flinch, shrinking down in his seat.

"'ts not a collar. Phil made it for me, 'n it helps with my stuff." He clearly didn't respond well to yelling, but Tommy was seriously going to lose his mind with the stale ass answers he was getting.

"And it's 'cause it won't hold the red dye. It's supposed to be red." Tommy snorted, shaking his head.

"This better just be some f*cking fever dream. What kinda cult name is f*cking 'Techno'?" It was easier to be mad than it was to be scared. Yelling was easier than crying.

"It's what I was branded as. Usually the pi- kids they would... ya' know- They didn't get names. I was different, so it's what they called me." He felt a lot sh*ttier about wanting to mock him for it.

"Anyways, you're like us. But we don't know how. Phil brought you home before someone more dangerous found out." The subject was thankfully changed, but what was being said wasn't any less upsetting.

"I'm like you? How do we safely test how unkillable I am?" He didn't mean it as a joke, but the snort from Techno had him laughing as well. It was a nice break from the awkward tension that hung between them, just two teenagers laughing at a dumb joke. The facade was soon gone as he cleared his throat.

"People present differently. Wilbur and Phil can't do what I can, but we're considered the same. There's no way to tell until you know for sure, but you blowing your cup up was a pretty clear sign." He was talking so casually about it, like it was normal for him. Which it actually might've been.

The weird pink haired guy drinking his coconut water that was murdered(?) in the middle of the night had probably seen worse. Hell, he had probably said or done worse at some point.

"Your pants are still wet."

---

Techno had been right. He was focused on everything around him being horrible and f*cking confusing, so he had forgotten that his crotch and torso were soak in the dirt tea.

Honestly, he hadn't noticed it since the pain in his hands had been bothering him a LOT more. Phil apparently didn't want him to try and buckle a pair of jeans with his shredded hands, so he was sporting a pair of gray sweatpants from Wilbur's closet. Unfortunately they were a closer inseam, sp Phil had just rolled them up for him.

He stumbled into the kitchen just in time to hear the argument between the three of them. "If you're tired, I could make dinner." Techno was the only one from the trio not sitting at the table. Phil was sporting a cup of what was probably coffee, making a face at him.

"No one else wants to eat boiled potatoes as a meal."

Chapter 12

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Tommy eventually just slipped away to his room, leaving the three of them to argue amongst themselves. He felt like sh*t and his hands were still throbbing in pain. The cuts felt warmer than they should've, so he was sure that he was going to be waking up tomorrow to some kind of infection.

Phil was apparently good at giving stitches, but also hadn't disinfected the wounds at all. He didn't know much, but he knew that you were supposed to clean a cut.

He found himself curling under his blankets, falling asleep as he finally let himself relax.

---

If Tommy dreamed of anything, he forgot about it by the time he woke up. He had been prodded awake by what looked to be some sort of ladle. Wilbur was looming over him with it, seemingly amused by something.

"Dinner time, gremlin child." He didn't get a chance to bitch about his 'nickname' before the older boy was out of his room. He probably moved so fast from being all leg. Which the blond could probably make fun of him for.

He didn't bother trying to make himself presentable before he was making his way to the kitchen. Phil was still at the stove, mixing something together. There were bowls of what looked like soup set out on the table. Tommy took his seat in the corner, ignoring Wilbur as he dumped something he probably shouldn't have into his dinner. He spared a look and almost gagged.

It was powdered sugar.

"It's a full moon tonight. You two could- f*cking hell, Wilbur." Phil had turned to the table as he began speaking, and caught the boy in the atrocity of what he was doing.

"It's a full moon tonight." The brunette shot back, shoving a spoonful of the paste into his mouth. Tommy was going to puke watching him eat. The bag of powdered sugar was thankfully confiscated before Wilbur tried to fit more into his bowl.

"Anyways, do you want the stitches out? You should be done bleeding, but you're definitely not fixed." Phil was suddenly talking to him, and Tommy couldn't focus as he watched Wilbur eat his sugar slop out of the corner of his eye. The man definitely noticed, and the mess was taken from him as well. He began tuning out the conversation before it really became an argument, remembering about his hands.

He genuinely forgot about the mess they were- had been. But they seemed better?

His palms had thin pink lines where the cuts were, the only discomfort coming from the stitches tugging at his skin as he flexed his fingers. The wounds looked over a week old. Tommy couldn't help but feel that the yellow sludge he had to drink had something to do with it.

"I think they can come out."

---

No one was explaining what the full moon meant or why Techno disappeared into the woods with what looked suspiciously like a weapon. Tommy was apparently expected to spend the night inside. Phil wasn't inside, neither was Wilbur. But Tommy was told to leave the door unlocked for them, and to stay inside. Which was basically an invitation to snoop through the house.

Everything seemed pretty normal in the kitchen, despite the fact that there were some weird spices and powders that he didn't recognize. Which could've just been because he had never had to cook for himself.

He found a bag of Hershey's Kisses hidden away behind a tub of what probably flour. He stole a couple before putting everything back the exact way he found it. He wasn't a stranger to doing things he shouldn't have been.

His search was paused as he found a bottle of vitamins that were expired in the back of the pantry. Wilbur's name was scrawled across the bottle in sharpie, but the ugly colored gummies didn't move when he pushed it aside. They didn't move at all, actually. Tommy twisted the jar open, curious to its contents since there was clearly a piece of paper glued against the plastic.

It was weed.

Chapter 13

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Tommy had been watching movies since he figured out how the voice remote worked. He had settled himself down with a blanket, and had apparently fallen asleep on the couch at some point. He woke up to see Phil taking out the half-empty bowl of popcorn. The crunching noises along the way would've been funny if he wasn't still delirious from waking up.

"If you're up, you should head to bed. They're a lot louder than I am, and it's already four."

Four? Tommy yawned as he tried to find a clock, resorting to pulling the menu up on the TV. It was a little after four in the morning? He usually didn't fall asleep so easily, but he was too tired to actually care.

"You should head to bed." He meant it as a rebuttal, but he just sounded like a sleepy child.

"I will, Toms. You can take that blanket to bed with you if you make sure it gets back to the couch in the morning."

It was warm and soft, but Tommy considered putting it back to save himself a trip. The idea was quickly abandoned as he realized how chilly the air was. He tossed it around himself and shuffled up the stairs to his room. It was weird to think of it as his.

He couldn't get attached.

---

Tommy stretched before bothering to open his eyes, not wanting to blind himself as he woke up. He made his way to the bathroom, planning to brush his teeth and start his day. Turning the sink on apparently altered whatever was in the tub to his presence, the curtains drawn. He was too tired to investigate, and he wouldn't put it past whatever monster it was to kill him, so he just took his toothbrush to the kitchen to finish brushing his teeth.

The house was oddly still despite it being almost 8, especially since Techno seemed to be up at all hours of the day. The only time he saw the guy sleeping was- He physically recoiled from the memory, spitting in the sink before rinsing his toothbrush out.

He was not going back into the bathroom with whatever creature was hiding out there, so he just shoved it into his pocket. He would probably remember to put it back. And if not, then he would have to find it the next time he needed to brush his teeth.

It felt weird to scrounge around the fridge. Domestic, even. So naturally he took a granola bar from the cabinet and settled himself on the couch. It was Sunday, so cartoons were on a few channels. He turned the volume down as much as he could before finding something entertaining enough to watch for the next few hours.

---

"Wil." Tommy didn't hear the older boy until he was at the bottom of the steps, and said older boy apparently didn't see him considering how he jumped. It would've been funny if Wilbur didn't look like he was about to beat him for the disturbance.

"You f*cking gremlin." He got a rude gesture thrown at him before the brunette disappeared into the kitchen. It dawned on him that it was the perfect opportunity to bring up his little 'discovery'.

"Wil, that's so mean. Must be the withdrawals." He was going to get something out of this, he just needed to figure out what. Apparently the minute it took him to get to the kitchen was enough time for Wilbur to find a spoon and start eating out of a tub of yogurt.

"Withdrawls?" Tommy couldn't stop himself from smiling as he simply nodded.

"Yeah. From all those drugs." It caught the older boy off guard enough that he immediately began choking.

"What 'drugs' do you think I do, Tommy." It wasn't really a question. Wilbur's voice was a lot more intimidating and raspy after deepthroating that spoon. He was starting to lose his nerve a bit, but remembered that he could outrun him.

Worse case scenario, he would bolt out the door with the keys. He couldn't drive, but Wilbur also couldn't drive if Tommy took the keys.

"Tommy. Tell me." Wilbur's voice was suddenly the only thing he could hear, and it felt like pressure against his skull as he tried to remember whatever he was saying.

"The fake vitamins in the back of the pantry. I opened it." His eyes were suddenly focusing again, and he wished they didn't. Wilbur was glaring at him, the bags under his eyes and his pale skin making him look like a vengeful corpse.

"What do you want?"

"I just thought Phil might like to know." Wilbur was the one looking shocked now. Which would've been fulfilling if he didn't immediately drop his surprise for malice.

"I could melt your brain, Tommy. What exactly were you expecting out of this?"

"Expecting out of what?"

Chapter 14

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Wilbur-" Tommy turned around to face Techno, fully expecting him to be on his side. At the very least, Techno didn't seem like the kind to break rules. Which meant that Wilbur doing drugs would probably upset him! He was not expecting to turn around to a mostly naked man who looked like he was about to pass out where he stood.

"Jesus f*ck- pants, man." He slapped a hand over his eyes as he pressed himself against the wall, wanting to get out of the guy's way as fast as he could.

"Wilbur did nothing, is what he meant. Right Tommy?" Tommy was busy trying to not look at the creepy weird man wandering around in his boxers, so he tried to glare at Wilbur through his fingers.

"Wilbur does drugs." The blond spat. He got a weird snort in response, and apparently Techno bit into an apple instead of being upset.

"Yeah." He dropped his hand as he got ready to argue, hoping that Phil didn't ALSO know and his leverage went out the window.

Wil seemed equally surprised, actually. Was he going to have to fight to be the one to blackmail Wilbur? He would have to abandon his plan, then. Techno could probably beat him to death with his bare hands. It definitely wouldn't be worth it to try and have some leverage over Wil only to be murdered.

"How could you possibly know! I cover my tracks." He seemed more offended that the pink haired guy knew than worried about being ratted out to Phil. Maybe Tommy still had a chance.

"'can smell it. 'ts in the pantry." Tommy unfortunately spared a glance at Techno as he spoke, and watched with a mix of horror and amazement as he continued to eat the raw f*cking potato like it was an apple. He would've gagged if he didn't already expect the worst from the guy.

Techno eating raw potatoes didn't seem as bad as Wilbur being a sugar fiend, though. Uncooked vegetables were more excusable.

"But does Phil know?" Tommy was pretty sure he knew the answer, but he wanted confirmation about what he could possibly get out of this exchange.

Wilbur paled and Techno just shook his head before taking another obnoxiously loud bite. The crunching noise was bad enough, but the visual of also seeming him do it was worse.

"You're not telling Phil, Tommy." Wilbur was back to being angry at him.

"You can't stop him." Techno chimed in. Tommy refused to look back in his direction, but he would accept the support.

"f*ck you I can't. Just because it doesn't work on you-" Wilbur was suddenly quiet, his eyes narrowing as he glanced between the two.

"Why would you be on his side? He stabbed you." Wilbur clearly wasn't above bringing it up so soon, but he got smacked in the face with what was left of the potato Techno had been eating.

"You've done it too. Plus getting in someone's head too much f*cks them up, Wilbur."

Thankfully Wilbur didn't seem as prepared to argue with a man not wearing pants as he was with a child, so he seemingly gave up after a huff and a shrug.

"So what do you want, you f*cking gremlin?" Techno seemingly disappeared by the time he looked over the kitchen again. Hopefully it was in the pursuit of putting some f*cking clothes on.

"First of all, I want you to stop calling me that. I'm a man-" Wilbur was laughing at that. Tommy felt his cheeks burn as he waited for the asshole to respond to his demand.

"A man? You're like twelve! And you're defenseless! What're you gonna do, break a cup at me?" Wilbur was really pissing him off. It dawned on him that he literally had the upper hand, so he just turned around to start making his way up the stairs.

"Now where are you going?" Was called behind him snidely. Tommy just shrugged without breaking his pace, happy that Wil couldn't see him smirking.

"Just going to see what Phil thinks."

There was the sound of something being tripped over, and something hit the ground behind him. The grip on his ankle had him almost go on his face, but he quickly steadied himself. Which was good planning since Wilbur used him to get himself up, yanking on his wrist and elbow like a child.

He was being loomed over, and it was suddenly clear to him how much difference a few inches of height could make.

"You have a day to decide what you want. If it's something stupid, I'll wipe your memory and find a different hiding place. Don't think you've won." The grip on his wrist was suddenly dropped as Wilbur went back to the kitchen.

He was too busy shaking to laugh at the fact that the older boy had flung yogurt at himself when he tripped.

Chapter 15

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It was about an hour later that Phil finally came down the steps.

"Tommy, do you want to go to school tomorrow?" He was caught off guard by the question, having been focused on the show Wilbur had put on a bit ago. He was about to refuse when something hit his knee.

He was upset that Wilbur had hit him until he remembered the reason the brunette was so adamant about him going as soon as possible. He hadn't exactly proved that he wasn't going to run away. Especially considering the fact that he tried to run away.

"Yeah." He grumbled, turning his attention back to the television.

"Do you want to come with and we can get you a few outfits?" Phil sounded hopeful, and it was honestly gross.

No, Tommy didn't want to go clothes shopping. He didn't want Phil to buy him clothes. It would feel really weird to wear anything the man bought him once he was back at the group home.

"Do you want to come with and we can leave Wil' and Techno here?" that was an offer that sounded actually appealing. It might've been a trap to get him to pick out a shirt or two, though.

"I guess."

---

The silence between him and Phil was a lot friendlier than it was with the other two. Phil hummed along to the sh*tty pop song on the radio as he tapped his fingers against the steering wheel, eyes scanning the road while occasionally glancing at him.

"So." Tommy hadn't realized that he had been staring at the man for the past ten minutes. "About the cup."

He found himself focusing at the spot in the vent where Mariah had her empty air freshener plug, instinctively expecting a lecture.

"I'm sorry." Tommy must've misheard him.

"I broke your mug, Phil." Was he seriously forgetting the detail about him shattering what was probably a good mug?

"Tommy, you cut your hands to sh*t. I don't care about the mug. Me yelling triggered it, and I'm sorry you got hurt." His brain felt like it was short circuiting. He had never had someone apologize to him after he broke something.

Breaking something got you yelled at. Like the time he shattered a glass vase when falling on it when he was about eight, and he got an earful from the lady fostering him as he was in the ER getting stitches.

"You healed faster than I expected, but it doesn't make up for the fact that you got hurt because I lost my temper. I'm the adult and I wasn't acting like it." Phil was freaking him the f*ck out.

"But as the adult, I need you to promise me that you'll tell me if something happens. I know that sometimes dreams seem meaningless and I don't expect you to keep a record of them just for me, but let me know if anything happens. Weird or not. Okay?" The shrug he gave was apparently a good enough of an answer.

Phil was f*cking weird.

---

It was another half an hour of driving before they got to the 'mall'. Tommy had never seen a rural shopping center, but it was pretty underwhelming. There couldn't have been more than twenty, MAYBE thirty stores in the entire building. It didn't even look like it had a second story! There was a Walmart nearby, and more stores along that strip. Everything was spaced so far apart and he couldn't understand why. There was plenty of room to move everything closer together.

And what the f*ck was 'Tractor Supply'?

"Everythings going to be cheaper at Walmart, but we can look through the mall and everything after. And please don't buy cheap sh*t that's going to fall apart. Trust me, money is NOT an issue."

Phil kept trying to reassure him about things he hadn't vocalized about once, but it was unfortunately the least weird part of his day. Techno wandering around almost completely naked had set the bar pretty low.

Tommy just shrugged for the umpteenth time before wandering towards the building. The parking lot was pretty empty with only a handful of cars, which was also kind of weird for how it was almost noon.

"You have to get a backpack specifically for school. I won't make you get rid of your red one, but it looks like it's going to fall apart." Phil walked quietly, which he would have to remember.

Actually, Wilbur was the only one of the three that seemed to not secretly be a ninja. Wilbur also seemed to be the biggest asshole, too.

"It's also f*cking ugly." He added, apparently disturbing the old woman who was exiting the store.

"It's also f*cking ugly." Phil assured, either not noticing or not caring about the dirty look he got as they actually entered the building. Phil grabbed a cart and just started off, so Tommy followed behind him.

It would make sense for the man to know where he was going. It did seem to be the closest shopping outlet to where he lived, so it was pretty obvious that he ended up familiarizing himself with it.

"We should get some of the basics, and if you need more we can just get more. Wilbur doesn't take notes and Techno has four notebooks for each class, so I have no idea what the middle ground would be."

Techno did NOT seem like the kind of guy to take notes. Hell, he didn't seem like the kind of guy to go to class. The weird alternative/scene kid must've balanced out the jock. But Wilbur definitely seemed like the kind of guy to dick around in all his classes.

Phil stopped them in the office supplies, motioning at the shelves.

"Your call."

---

Tommy had ended up just throwing a couple of each thing into the cart, which was thankfully not as much as he thought it was. Phil had reminded him to grab a bag as they headed to the checkout, so he now had a backpack that didn't make him look homeless.

Which was weird, honestly. He was so used to the ugly fluorescent red of his old one. He was pulled out of his thoughts by the weird hotdog pastry shoved in his face.

"Its a pretzel dog. You should eat something since we'll be walking." He muttered a small thanks before accepting it, not acknowledging Phil as he plopped himself down on the bench beside him. They were facing towards the pretzel booth in the center of the little plaza, so the man really shouldn't have snuck up on him like he did.

"So, I was thinking about getting you some stuff. To avoid future cup incidents, I mean." Tommy chewed as he turned to Phil, confused by what he meant by 'stuff'.

"Just trust me. It'll do you some good. Plus the shop I want to take you to is right between the Game Stop and the Michaels, so we can find you a hobby. It's probably boring, and it's not fair to you if Techno finds out about your free time and makes you spar with him." Phil was talking about things he had no clue about, but he seemed satisfied with the occasional nod in response. The man seemed perfectly okay with filling the silence between them.

And honestly, Tommy was too.

---

Phil took forever to eat, and Tommy was 100% sure that it was because he wouldn't stop talking. It was probably only about ten minutes, but he was used to eating fast for convenience sake and waiting that long usually had him antsy. He didn't feel any of his usual anxiety though.

Phil's presence was oddly calming. The serenity that hung around the man like a viel seemed a lot more potent without Wilbur or Techno there to dick around.

He was eventually led into a store that he immediately hated. It was one of the dumb 'witchy' palm reading shops that were always full of plants he couldn't recognize and the most boring books. He had only ever been in one of them out of curiosity, having wasted like $30 only for a lady to tell him he was a Capri Sun or something.

He hadn't known what that meant until later when he found out that he WASN'T. He was an Aries. He wasn't quite sure what that meant, but he knew that it meant that lady was full of sh*t.

"I don't like these places, either. But they usually have some near stuff." Phil whispered to him. Tommy must've said something out loud.

That, or it was pieced together by his expression and the fact that he had to he dragged into the store. Phil standing on top of him wasn't helping. The man was suddenly backing off, throwing a thumb over his shoulder as a stack of books.

"You have a look around, I'll go see if there's anything interesting in." With that, the man was suddenly across the store and Tommy was left alone.

He tried to find 'stuff' like Phil had said, but he still had no idea what the f*ck that meant. He skipped over the candles, considering them briefly before the one that was DEFINITELY a penis had him moving on.

He then tried to look through what seemed to be pre-measured packages of different plants and sh*t, but he only recognized rosemary because he knew it was used in cooking.

Tommy briefly looked over what looked like those stupid fortune teller cards. He made a face as he saw that the different boxes had either fairies, skeletons, or leaves on them. What kind of options were those?

He did find little cones and sticks he assumed to be air fresheners, and found a box that he liked. Outside of that, there was just more weird sh*t that he didn't recognize. That just left the rocks.

He went to poke through them, trying to pick them solely based on colors he liked. Putting his fingers into the pit of mixed 'crystals' quickly had it aching, like something stung him.

"f*cking hell." Tommy know for a fact that it was said under his breath, but Phil was suddenly by his side.

"You okay- Oh. You don't want those ones." He didn't have a chance to respond before Phil was just grabbing stuff.

There were palm-sized chunks of different rocks he didn't recognize, along with weird pillars and pyramids and sh*t. He had also grabbed what looked like a black dinner plate that was about an inch thick, carrying the armful of rocks to the counter.

Tommy felt silly putting the small box of the weird scented cones next to the pile that Phil had gathered. The lady behind the counter seemed mostly uninterested as she started ringing everything up. He zoned out for a bit as she punched numbers in, wondering briefly why nothing just had a barcode on it.

The total scared the sh*t out of him.

"Six seventy-eight, thirty-two."

Chapter 16

Chapter Text

Tommy refused to touch any of it. They had gotten home from shopping almost an hour ago, and taking it out of the tissue paper and bags made him so nervous that he almost puked. SIX HUNDRED DOLLARS! He was looking at six hundred dollars of f*cking rocks. His dumb little air freshener cones had been abandoned amongst the empty bags on the floor, nearly forgotten as he panicked about the items on his desk. It wasn't that many, either. It had to be less than twenty things. And for six hundred f*cking dollars.

"Phil said you- Why'd you make a f*cking mess?" Wilbur was suddenly in the door, having invited himself in from it being left open. Tommy couldn't bother glaring at him as he tried to figure out what he was doing with SIX HUNDRED DOLLARS OF f*ckING ROCKS. "Tommy. Answer me." His mind went blank as he tried to figure out how to answer. He needed to answer Wilbur.

"I didn't pick up because I'm upset that Phil spent a lot of money on me." Tommy took too long to realize that Wil was doing that dumb sh*t to him. He assumed that since he was aware of it that he stopped doing it. "What he-" Wilbur peeked his head into the room and actually saw the disaster sitting on his desk. "Crystals are stupid. He probably just got you big ones since they're harder to break." The asshole was now IN his room and playing with the stuff on his desk.

"I never got the hang of these. Phil can just use anything he grabs, but it's more efficient to just say it." Apperantly his silence was taken as an invitation to come into HIS space and start fiddling with the very expensive rocks. Wilbur was talking about things he didn't know about while examining the black plate he had snatched. "I doubt you'll be able to do much. If Phil AND Tech can't sniff you out, you either suck or your dormant. Which is the same thing as sucking." Tommy had no idea what the insults were referring to, but he was still going to get pissed off about them.

"I'd rather suck than be a bitch that f*cks with people's heads!" Tommy wasn't sure why he was so riled up. Half of the things Wilbur was saying didn't make any sense to him. "You'd rather be weak, you mean?" Apparently his agitation was just amusing the older boy. "Yes, I'd rather be weak than a f*cking asshole. Why are you even in here? Don't you have drugs to do?" The expression he got from Wilbur was unreadable for a second before he was being laughed at.

"You act like it's crack! I smoke to calm down at night, you f*cking gremlin." Mention the reason seemed to drop any of the humor from his demeanor. He suddenly seemed alot taller once any of the lightheartedness drained from him. "Techno and I actually have sh*t wrong with us because our lives weren't as easy as yours. Go tell Phil if you want, but don't think I owe you. Smoking helps with the things I hear, and if you want to ruin that too then go right ahead. Ruin this house as much as you want since you're pouting because can't run."

With that, Wilbur turned and slammed the door behind him. Tommy was still processing the conversation as he watched the door, expecting there to be someone coming through it. His words stung for reasons he couldn't quite place. Just because he wasn't in a cult meant that his life was easy? But, Techno used to be murdered all the time as a kid. So he could only imagine what they used to do to Wilbur. Phil was kind on the outside, but it was clear that he struggled too.

Just because Wilbur apparently decided to direct his mood swing at him didn't mean that he was wrong. f*ck, was he crying?

---

The best way to deal with tears that you couldn't suppress was to lay down and hide. It worked in literally any scenario that Tommy had ever applied it to. He couldn't understand why Wilbur telling him he had it easy hurt so much. Looking back, the brunette didn't seem to be wrong. What he refused to admit were more than a few tears stopped a bit ago, but he stayed under the covers for some semblance of privacy as he thought. His door was was probably still shut, but it felt better to stay where he was. f*ck, Wilbur was mean.

He probably shouldn't have tried to blackmail him. They weren't on very good terms to begin with, and trying to extort him might've not been the best idea to try and improve the relationship. Honestly, Wilbur f*cking sucked. But Phil also said that he came from the weird little murder cult thing as well, and that he had actually been their longer than Techno had. Was that why he was so goddamn mean?

He was distracted by what sounded like his doorknob jiggling. It very clearly wasn't locked, but he picked his head up in time to see a piece of paper being slid under the door. It was too far away to read, but he could've laughed at the ridiculousness of it. He took his time getting out of bed, wrapping the blanket he had stolen from the couch around himself like a cloak. Tommy crouched and picked up the paper. It looked like it was written with a f*cking green crayon.

'Wilbur's pouting because he doesn't know what to do with you yet, but he won't tell me what he did. If he oversteps at all, you can tell me. I'm sure Techno would be happy to bond with you over some sparring if you're up to it. I'm in the kitchen baking if you'd rather help with that. :) - Phil'

Chapter 17

Chapter Text

Tommy wasn't sure why he didn't want to throw the note out. He folded it up and tucked it into his belongings neatly, stashing it away in his ugly red bag. Maybe he would talk to Phil about Wilbur. He grimaced at the thought, realizing how painfully domestic it would be. He wasn't living a Hallmark movie, and there was no reason for the man to choose the sh*tty little troublemaker over his actual son.

He would've thrown the note out if it didn't mean that he had to pick up the mess in his- the room. He was getting WAY too comfortable. Phil cracked once already, so it was bound to happen again soon.

Hopefully the guy would just beat the sh*t out of him and get it over with.

---

Tommy ended up in the kitchen after a few more minutes of sulking, and paused to take in the scene. Phil's back was to him, but peeking around the man let him see that Techno was apparently getting his hair braided. "Hey bud! You doing okay?" He was pretty sure that he made no noise, but he was still greeted cheerfully. "'m fine." He was not fine. Wilbur's insult was rattling around his skull, and he was painfully aware of how domestic he had gotten over the short time he'd been in the house.

"Would baking or fighting make you feel better?" He didn't understand what Phil was asking him, but his mouth ran faster than his mind did. "You're gonna fight me if I don't bake?" Tommy was confused for a second as the man broke down in laughter, having to step away from weaving his son's hair to wipe his eyes. Techno was even chuckling, which he didn't know he could do. Phil tried to form some coherent response, but took another look at him and dissolved into another fit of old-man wheeze laughter.

"He means you can come outside with me if you don't want to be in here with him. Ya' know, away from Wilbur?" Techno's words seemed to drain the laughter out of Phil. Tommy didn't have time to bolt before the guy was in his face, a solid hand on his shoulder making him feel pinned down. "Wilbur can get nasty. You need to tell me if he makes you say or do something you don't want to, alright? He knows better, and you don't owe him answers." He was really, really trying to maintain eye contact as Phil spoke with the calmest tone he could. But his eyes were wide as he tried to choke down the urge to wiggle out of his grasp and run.

Phil must've realized why he was so tense, and quicky pulled away to put a comfortable amount of distance between the two of them. "I'm going to tell you the same thing I told Tech when Wilbur started harassing him. He's not a fighter, no matter what he says. You can hit him ONCE so long as you don't break his glasses. Or teeth. And only after he does something he shouldn't." Tommy was having trouble understanding the weird man for the umpteenth time since he came home.

"Did you just tell me I could punch your f*cking son?"

---

Yes, Phil had told him that he could punch his son. Techno actually agree that punching Wilbur seemed to be the best option. He was so stunned that he didn't realize that the braid was done and that he was being dragged outside. He didn't SAY that he wouldn't want to bake. He didn't, but that wasn't the point. Techno was dragging him by the wrist out to the edge of the yard, dropping his grip to fish a key out of his pocket.

Tommy assumed that Techno was going to get revenge and kill him back. Why else would he be opening what looked like a tool shed? He had f*cking stabbed the poor guy in the throat, so he could understand why he would be getting beat to death with a shovel. He had no idea how fast the older boy was, though. There was a good chance that he couldn't outrun him. He couldn't exactly escape to somewhere, so maybe he would have to try his luck at climbing a tree.

"Here. These are lighter." Techno emerged from the dark of the shed with a f*cking SWORD. He couldn't bother to examine the shield because he had a f*cking SWORD. It looked like something out of a f*cking TV fantasy show. Looking closer, it might've been made out of wood. But still! The shield he was trying to make him hold definitely WASN'T just wood. "What the f*ck."

He just got a confused looked in response. "Did you want the heavy ones?" Tommy would've found it funny how ridiculously dense this guy was if he wasn't busy being nervous about the f*cking WEAPON offered to him. "What the f*ck." Eventually made it's way out of him. They were just staring at each other with equal amounts of confusion for a few moments before something visibly clicked in Techno's head. "Do you want to use the metal swords?"

So one of his 'brothers' was an asshole, and the other was a complete f*cking idiot. "No, I don't want to play with metal f*cking swords! What the f*ck is this?" Tommy gestured towards the shed that he was scared to look into. "It's the weapons shed." Was all the explanation that he got before the pair was shoved into his hand and Techno disappeared into the dark of the shed. He came out with his own sword that was visibly a different color. "Do you want padding? Wilbur's might be big on you." Why was he acting like this was-

Honestly, it was his fault for being surprised. The entire household was f*cking insane, and this wasn't even the weirdest part of his day. Hell, it wasn't even the most unpleasant. Wilbur had taken the cake on being horrible, so Techno wanting to beat him with a stick paled in comparison. "No, I don't. I don't know how to use a f*cking sword, big man." He got a weird look that was presumably from the nickname that slipped sometimes, but other than that his expression was unreadable.

"I can teach you. Hold still." Techno was holding weird gloves and sh*t for some reason, but Tommy let him get closer since he had left his own sword on the ground. He was suddenly attaching weird gloves to his arms. "It hurts let's when you use the bracers."

Because clearly he knew what bracers were.

---

Tommy regretted everything. Techno was apparently f*cking terrifying. Under the mask of some socially awkward emo guy, he was a murder machine that moved faster than he could think. The arm holding his shield up was sore and heavy, the hard blows rattling him up to his shoulder. He hadn't managed to get a single hit in, and he had been disarmed several times already. It might've been his fault just a tiny bit.

Techno had asked him if he wanted him to go easy. Naturally he thought he was being talked down to, and told him to go all out. He had then asked if Tommy wanted him to demonstrate how to use a sword and shield. He had been overconfident from being snarky, so naturally he boasted that he could figure it out himself. Techno's ability to completely overlook social cues was biting him in the ass, since he seemed oblivious to the fact that Tommy felt like he was about to f*cking DIE.

The sword was coming down on his right at an angle, and he barely managed to move the shield over before he was suddenly on his side. He decided to stay on the ground instead of getting back up, fully expecting another 'round of sparring'. Something HAD to have broken by now. Everything ached and his joints felt like they were full of lead. He had never been so exhausted in his life. Which was saying something considering how he was used to sprinting around entire city blocks to get out of trouble.

"That was fun." He couldn't be bothered to laugh at the monotone grumble he heard over his wheezing. He turned his head a bit to look up him, and saw what looked vaguely like the start of a smile. At least one of them enjoyed it. Admittedly, it had been sorta cool to watch Techno use the wooden sword. He treated it like breathing, and it was probably even cooler to watch when he wasn't actively getting his ass kicked.

"You sucked."

Chapter 18

Chapter Text

Techno seemed satisfied after an hour of beating him half to death, so he got an uncomfortable pat on the back before he was being sent inside. His knees felt like they were going to buckle underneath of him as he slowly made his way to the kitchen. Phil was baking, just like he said. The man's back was to him, so he assumed that he could slip into a chair and die for a bit before he had to make small talk. He was even more sure of his plan once he saw that he had a pair of wireless earbuds in.

He wasn't even into the actual kitchen before Phil turned to him while tearing out an earbud, his eyes going wide. "Tommy! Holy sh*t, sit down." He was in too much agony to wonder why he had been discovered. He was being lead to a chair, which he was more than happy to sit down in. He almost immediately went limp, a choked groan escaping him as his lower back throbbed painfully. "Jesus, Tommy! I'll be right back." Phil was suddenly disappearing, and Tommy took a moment to close his eyes.

Breathing with his ribs throbbing in pain was oddly challenging. He was suddenly aware of the scent of butter and vanilla hanging in the air, which was better than the bible and sweat he had been dealing with before. He couldn't bother picking his head up as he heard footsteps enter the kitchen again, assuming that it was just Phil. There as suddenly a crunching noise, and someone speaking next to him. "You look like sh*t." It wasn't Phil.

"f*ck you." Talking also hurt. He had never been so physically exhausted before. Muscle he didn't know existed were in pain. He really didn't want to deal with Wilbur eating in his ear as he was trying to not die. "Can't believe I didn't get to see Techno beat your ass-" There was the sound of something being smacked, and Tommy opened his eyes to see Wilbur getting backed down by Phil. He was taller than the man by probably half a foot, but he looked a lot smaller as he was being glared down like a naughty dog. The cookie the boy had stolen from one of the pans cooling was abandoned on the floor.

"Wilbur. You're grounded." Tommy would've snorted if he wasn't sure that he would cry from agitating his sore... everything. That was, until Phil was suddenly grabbing Wilbur's face. The air suddenly felt sickening, and he watched as brunette froze under the man's touch. He was expecting his head to be bounced off the wall, which seemed scarier when it wasn't actually him. It wasn't, though. Wilbur's eyes rolled back in his head as he went limp. Phil was the only thing keeping him from crumpling to the floor.

Tommy wasn't as bothered by his pain as he sat up in his chair, fully expecting Wilbur to be f*cking dead. The visceral panic was only settled slightly as he saw the older boy breathing. "One second, bud." Phil gave him the most genuine smile while supporting his limp son, and he felt like he was about to puke at the sight. His mouth was dry and the vanilla hanging in the air wasn't as nice as it had been.

He watched Phil drag Wilbur out of the room, his pain being replaced by fear as he waited for the man to come back.

---

Phil had only been a few minutes, but it felt like a small eternity. He gave a lopsided smile before busying himself with sweeping the smashed cookie off the floor. The adrenaline was fading, so Tommy was reluctantly slumping back into his chair as the pain returned. "Sorry about that. I should've caught him sooner." Was Phil f*cking APOLOGIZING to him!?

"What the f*ck was that." The usual bite wasn't there, so he sounded like a scared child. Which he technically was. A very f*cking scared child that had just watched a man knock his son out by grabbing his face. "Oh, yeah. Don't worry, Toms. Wilbur's not hurt. I just..." He watched Phil chose his words, scared of what he was about to hear. "I stopped Wilbur's energy. Just for a bit, though. He was getting ready to do something to you, and I'm assuming he has already. He knows better, and it's not fair to you."

That was not what he was expecting to hear. He gave a grunt in response, letting out a stiff breath he didn't know he was holding. "sh*t, I forgot. Drink this." Something was being shoved into his grasp, so Tommy focused his attention on getting his cramped and twitchy fingers to clutch the cup Phil had given him. It looked different from the gross yellow sludge from- Holy sh*t, that had only been yesterday. The gold liquid looked mostly like apple juice. "It's fresher than the other stuff I gave you. I made some more since we're clearly gonna' need it."

It tasted just as weird, but the texture was definitely an improvement. His mouth and throat didn't feel as scratchy, and his limbs seemed to be slowly losing the ache that had settled over them. "Did you take away his magic?" Phil snorted like he had told a joke, taking the seat across the table. He was clearly in the mood to talk. "Magic's not real, Tommy. I just blocked what he uses to suggest things." That made no f*cking sense. "How is it not magic? Techno comes back when killed, and Wilbur tells people things and they do it." He wasn't sure what Phil did, actually.

"Let's just just say I'm very empathetic." He was doing that sh*t where Tommy didn't say something and Phil was talking like he had. He was suddenly getting a softer look than before. Thankfully he wanted to change the subject. "Tommy, you don't owe Wilbur an explanation. You have just as much of a right to be here as he does. Once we figure out what you can do, I'll let you get some revenge." Tommy was the one to snort this time.

"What I can do? You means besides break sh*t and hurt myself?" It was a lost easier to be snarky once the pain had faded away to all but a dull ache. Phil chuckled at him, but nodded.

"It's energy, Tommy."

Chapter 19

Chapter Text

"I don't know what that means, Phil. I'm not a f*cking battery." Tommy felt himself relaxing in the man's presence again. For some reason, he just gave off the feeling of calmness that made him seem safe and easy to talk to. Phil just chuckled at him in a warm way that he wasn't used to. "You're right, batteries aren't a good comparison. I'd say that you're more like energy plant that's been locked." His confused expression just earned him another laugh.

"You're very capable of making and using the kind of energy I'm talking about. But you don't know how." That was the first thing anyone had said about the weird hobo magic nonsense that he could agree with. He DIDN'T know how. He still didn't know what the hell any of them were talking about. He would've been happy not believing them if he didn't unfortunately have hard evidence. The only one he hadn't had a weird-ass experience with was Phil. His magical sons were more than enough crazy for the rest of his life, though.

"Speaking of Wilbur." He hadn't said sh*t about Wilbur, but there was a weird groan noise from the entrance of the kitchen. Tommy turned in his seat, making a face at the older boy. They made tense eye contact for a brief moment. Wilbur opened his mouth like he was about to say something, but seemingly froze as he looked through Tommy. It was because he was looking at Phil. Wilbur knew better than to be an asshole in front of Phil.

"You feeling okay? No headache?" Phil's tone was as warm as it had been with Tommy, but the look in his eyes made the boy feel pure f*cking terror. "No." Whatever Phil did to him seemed to take a lot of the bite out of his tone, which Tommy was quite grateful for. "Good. Sit down, we're talking." He didn't bother turning back around to star uncomfortably at Wilbur as he took a seat at the table. He seemingly made a point to go around and take the seat next to Phil. Tommy didn't mind.

"We're talking about energy. Like yours. That I blocked." He and Phil were both looked at him, and the brunette was glancing between the two with an unreadable expression. "Yeah." It was a simple response, but it felt like a challenge. "I know having Tommy in the house is new and scary, but trying to make him lash out isn't good for either of you. I'm not letting you do it for a bit." Phil was doing the thing where he wouldn't say the name of something. He wondered briefly if it was just in front of him.

"But-" Phil cut him off. "No. We both know it's a reflex, and that neither of us can stop you. You just have to live without until Tommy being new isn't scary." Scary? How was Tommy being in the house- He did f*cking stab Wilbur's brother to death, and apparently he had to help clean it up. That would be pretty traumatic for anyone. He felt bad for being such an ass in response, remembering the tired eyed boy that reeked of bleach waking him up for breakfast. Phil suddenly turned to him, nodding for some f*cking reason. "Being empathetic is very mature of you, Tommy."

Wilbur was slumping in his chair, and honestly looked like a pouting child by the time he spoke. "I can't suggest things to him, but you can get in his head?" The tone was more of a whine than an accusation, but Tommy immediately f*cking panicked. He tried to keep his demeanor calm, but he wanted to f*cking bolt. Apparently the weird thing Phil f*cking did was read minds. Which was somehow worse than what Wilbur did. You could at least tell if Wilbur was making you say sh*t you didn't want to. How much had Phil seen in his f*cking head?

"Tommy, breathe." There was suddenly a warm grip on his wrists, and the panic was dulled as the warmth spread through his limbs. "I can't read people's minds, Tommy. I'm not a telepath. I'm an empath." He only recognized one of those words, but he was much more willing to listen now that he didn't feel like he was about to start hyperventilating. "I'm going to let you go, and you're going to panic again because of it. I need you to breathe." The warmth was suddenly gone, replaced by the crippling terror that had been there before.

His breathing was definitely becoming unsteady as he fought with himseld, but some kind of humming seemed to cut through his thoughts. It was nothing in comparison to what Phil had been doing, but it made it so that he could actually focus on controlling himself. His eyes slipped shut as he took a few deep breaths. He felt like such a f*cking idiot. He really almost had a panic attack over thinking that Phil could read his f*cking mind? He was an idiot.

He opened his eyes and took in both their expressions, expecting some kind of pity or disgust. Especially from Wilbur. Phil looked genuinely concerned, but seemed to stop chewing on his lip once their eyes met. Wilbur was glaring at some spot on the table, and suddenly the noise that had helped to numb the panic was gone as he turned to glare at the wall. Had he been the one making that noise? Phil seemed to be smiling about something again, which wasn't unusual in itself.

"Stop it." Wilbur seemed incredibly upset that his father was smiling like an idiot at him. Phil simply cleared his throat, and addressed Tommy instead.

"As you can see, Wil's actually a big softie."

Chapter 20

Chapter Text

"'m not." Was all Wilbur grumbled out in response to Phil teasing his son. Tommy was enjoying the display of the douchebag getting flustered, but it was also disgustingly domestic. "I still don't know what the f*ck that means." He threw out, interrupting their dispute. He got a weird look from both of them before something seemed to dawn on Phil. "Oh! I guess you wouldn't. Empaths are very 'in-tune' to the emotions of people around them, basically. I promise I can't read your mind. I just get emotions and vague visuals."

What the f*ck was that supposed to mean? "Didn't you say that you stopped Wilbur's ma- bullsh*t?" He almost said magic again, but he corrected himself. Phil seemed amused by his choice of words, so he could only imagine how the brunette would react. "I can't just stop it, Tommy. That really hurts people." Tommy had calmed down enough that he could nod along like he understood anything that was being said. Even though he only had a vague idea of what the f*ck was going on. It seemed to be the general theme of the disaster of his foster home.

"Well, think of it like this, right? There's this big river with a very small bank, and putting a dam up either breaks the dam or flood everything around it." He gave another curt nod even thought he had no f*cking idea where Phil was going with his analogy. "If you block part of the river, you can slow it down without flooding everything as bad. You also don't have to worry about breaking your blockade as easily." All he could imagine was Phil wedging some kind of magic river in Wilbur's head to block the flow of it. "Exactly."

He almost made a face as Phil's response even though he hadn't said anything. He really didn't like him doing that. He had no idea if the man was telling the truth about reading his mind. If anything, it would make more sense for him to lie about it specifically to calm him down. "If you don't like it, I can stop. You're allowed to have boundries." Tommy's brain was having trouble processing what was just said. Boundaries? Why would having a standard matter if he was going away soon? Just because everyone thought he was staying didn't mean that he was going to settle down and become a domesticated little sh*t.

Despite the horrible things rattling around his head, Phil didn't seem to react. He wondered for a moment if the man was serious about the whole 'boundries' thing. "I don't care." He lied. Wilbur snorted, still slumped in his chair like a gangly ragdoll. "Wilbur, you need to stop being an ass. Unless you want Tommy to hang out solely with Techno. So he learns to fights." Phil was hinting as something hat Tommy didn't catch on to right away. Wilbur shot up in his chair, glaring between the two of them. "You f*cking didn't."

"You made Techno sleep in the yard, so he got to stop you. You've been harassing Tommy f*ck knows how, so I just mentioned what worked last time." Phil was grinning like an idiot as he spoke to his clearly distressed child. It was actually kind of hilarious, but Tommy didn't want to redirect anyone's attention and ruin the moment. "What if I hit him back, huh? I'm bigger than he f*cking is." Wilbur was getting very, very defensive and it was the funniest sh*t that Tommy had seen in quite a while.

"Wilbur, I love you dearly. But you look like you faint half way through punching."

---

Tommy had to excuse himself as Wilbur wholeheartedly argued against Phil's teasing. He was actually in tears by the time he managed to hide himself away from the bathroom, laughing hard enough that he sounded like he was being strangled. He definitely didn't trust any of them yet, but Phil was officially his f*cking favorite. "Are you dying?" Came with a knock on the door. Techno's monotone and obliviousness to the events that had him close to sobbing helped to ease some of his laughter. "All good, big man." He managed to spit out. He wiped his eyes with the handtowel, trying to calm himself down.

He wouldn't be able to handle going into the kitchen while the two were getting into it. Tommy was sure that he would actually laugh himself into full-blown ugly crying. He looked at himself in the mirror on his way out of the bathroom, and barely recognized who was staring back at him. He was still smiling like am idiot, and the dark spots under his eyes seemed mostly nonexistent. He looked... normal? He had been in a house with a bunch of the craziest sh*t he had ever experienced, and he looked normal and healthy? He tore his gaze from the mirror, the grin slipping into a content frown as he actually left the bathroom.

Apparently Techno had taken the opportunity to insert himself into the kitchen argument, and the laughing seemed to be coming from him and Phil now. Watching Wilbur get verbally pummeled would've been enticing, but he had more important things to worry about. He was settling himself in too much, and he was letting his guard slip. He was sure that whatever the f*ck Phil could/was doing wasn't helping. Tommy actually had no idea if that was even true. But, it felt better to have someone to blame.

Besides, it made it him feel less guilty about letting himself play into the whole 'family' thing.

Chapter 21

Chapter Text

Tommy officially hated school. He wasn't fond of it before, but apperantly they were far enough from the school that the had to stand out in the dark at SIX IN THE f*ckING MORNING. Techno was just tapping away on his phone while Wilbur was listing off rules for him to 'follow'. They both knew that he didn't have to do sh*t since Phil was still blocking his suggestion-y magic sh*t. His complaint about the cold had Phil stick him in an ugly mustard sweater that was probably Wilbur's. He had to role the sleeves up just so the didn't hang down past his wrists. The backpack he had been given was weird and he hated it already. Everything sucked.

The noise of the bus scared the sh*t out of him, pulling him out of his angry grumbling. "Don't sit with me." Wilbur patted him on the shoulder before striding over to the yellow behemoth confidently. He school bag looked like one of the ones Tommy had seen in teen movie posters, the leather bag resting against his hip with the strap going over his chest. The beanie and dark trenchcoat made him reconsider his assumption about Techno being the weird scene kid.

He followed behind the older boys as they just waltzed up the bus, glaring at their backs as they disappeared into the dimly lit seats. Tommy followed behind them, fully prepared for something awful to happen. Apparently 'far from the school' meant that they were the first stop, seeing as every other seat happened to be empty. The weird old lady driving gave him a weird look, but he shot her a grateful look and a smile before taking the seat directly behind her. He wasn't a complete idiot. Befriending the bus driver could help save him from some serious sh*t. Especially since he was going to be the 'new kid'.

Which usually meant that someone was going to try and beat his ass.

---

Apparently it was the opposite in a rural area? It might've been because he was sitting at the front of the bus, but almost everyone who looked older than him made sure to greet him. The exception was the Schlatt guy, and some kid who looked like he was trying to write a paper while walking. The hospitality was somehow making him feel worse. He was used to aggression and uncomfortable silence. Everyone was being nice to him for no reason, and he had no experience with handling that. Even when he ascended the ranks at his old schools, it was because of his affinity for making the actually dangerous and popular kids enjoy his company. People weren't nice to him by choice.

Tommy's gaze was pulled from the window as something ACTUALLY threw themself into the seat beside him. He almost bounced his head off the f*cking window from it. He turned, fully prepared to yell at them for almost concussing him. "You Tommy? I'm your student guide for the day. Call me Tubbo." The guy beamed, his demeanor sickeningly friendly. Tommy couldn't find any sort of insincerity through it, which made it even worse. He also had a similar accent, which was mildly interesting. "What the f*ck is that name?" He nearly felt bad as the guy recoiled, his smile dropping. "It's a nickname. A lot of us use them. You could call me Toby, if you want."

"I doubt we'll be talking after today, so you shouldn't bother telling me." Tommy could've laughed at how the guy's face twisted at that. "I will forcefully befriend you, Tommy." The guy was shorter than him, and had a bunch of bee and flower stickers plastered all over his school bag. Why was he suddenly trying to act serious? "Have fun trying. I can get real f*cking annoying." Tubbo just nodded at him before responding. "You can't dress for sh*t, either." It was probably a mix of what seemed like the stereotypical 'flower child' seemingly cussing out of nowhere, and Tommy's own disgust for what he was wearing. No matter the reason, he was laughing hard enough that he sounded like a dying dog.

There was a few people who turned to stare at him, but for the most part they lost interest quick enough for him to not care. "It's f*cking Wilbur's. I can only imagine how great he pulls it off." He got a weird look. "Why're you wearing Wilbur's clothes? Isn't he Mr. Watson's son?" Tommy took a moment to process the question, his smile quickly dropping. Is that how people would start referring to him soon? 'Mr. Watson's son'? "You were put in charge of me for the day, and no one bothered to mention I'm a f*cking foster kid?" Tommy wasn't one to NOT mention it, especially since he learned from a young age how uncomfortable it made others. It was almost comical to see how upset they got at the mention of it.

"Eret just said to not let you in open areas. They wouldn't tell me why." Tommy snorted at that, finding it funny how bothered he seemed about the foster comment. "So word got around about Wilbur sicking that Clay guy on me?" Tommy turned his head a bit as an unfortunately familiar shade of florescent lime caught his attention. Said Clay guy was apparently trying to wrestle what looked like the paper the guy from earlier had been writing. "AM I ABNOXIOUS?" Was shouted loud enough that he could hear it from the back of the f*cking bus, and Tommy chose to ignore the fact that the two guys involved seemed to be beated each other with notebooks.

"Oh yeah, everyone heard. Did you really get all the way to mainstreet? I'm pretty sure you set a record." Why was Tubbo so goddamn amazed? "Record? How often does that f*cker hunt people down?" He didn't get his answer, since the bus stopped and the chaos from the back of the bus quickly migrated to the front. Tommy stayed back after Tubbo immediately got off, wanting to be the last off so he could get a good look at everyone. Some goddamn girl smiled and stopped, giving him a clear path. He shot her a smile and quickly got off, immediately cussing under his breath. He didn't know where anything was, but he stuck out with his fugly sweater.

It was clearly Wilbur's, so who else would be able to notice? It was still chilly, but he took a moment to step away from the crowd so he could peel the monstrosity off and haphazardly shove it into his bag. His regular shirt made the cold a lot more noticeable, but it was better than being known as the weird little mustard boy that was Wilbur's little brother. No one spared a glance at him for it. He probably should've been more concerned that stripping in front of the school was normal, but then again every other student seemed to be in a sweatshirt. His observation were cut off when some guy was suddenly looming over him, his sunglasses slipping down as he quite literally leaned overtop of him.

"You Tommy?" He had to bend himself back to not feel like he was about to have the guy fall on him, and even then it was uncomfortable to look up from the weird position. "Why're you on-f*cking-top of me?" He spat, expecting this guy to want to fight him. He was definitely taller, but he was also built like Wilbur and not Techno. Even once he ended up escaping from Phil's household, that would probably remain his scale of how much someone could beat his ass. "Yeah, you're Tommy." His wrist was grabbed, and he was suddenly being dragged through the crowd. Who the f*ck was this asshole? Who wore good sunglasses to f*cking public school?

"Found him!" He was being dragged from the crowd and to a small gathering next to the entrance of the cafeteria. Tubbo looked frazzled, which was funny considering he was the idiot that had been the first off the bus. "Tommy! Where'd you go!" Tommy actually laughed at him, finding it hilarious how panicked the boy in green was. "I got off the bus. Why'd you think I'd know where the f*ck I was going?" The guy holding him suddenly dropped his grip, instead patting Tubbo on the shoulder. "I told you he runs. You don't have to show him around if you don't want." Tubbo swatted the guy away, his smile returning despite the malicious look in his eyes.

"I told you, already. I'm gonna be his friend."

Chapter 22

Chapter Text

Tubbo felt the need to introduce him to both his siblings. Eret had been the one that found him, and Nikki was apparently the girl that let him go first off of the bus. He also found out that Eret was supposed to show Tommy around, but he had let his little brother take it over once the boy had 'gone off on a tangit about their compatibility for friendship'. Nikki was officially his favorite of the three, since she sent him off with a pack of snickerdoodles she said she had made last night. Her brothers f*cking sucked, especially in comparison. Her brothers seemed to suck less than Wilbur and Techno, though.

He wasn't sure how long that was going to last.

---

"You can't eat in the office." Tubbo immediately stopped leading him towards said office once he realized Tommy was eating the cookies he was gifted. "Okay." He couldn't help the sh*t-eating grin that grew on his face as he continued eating. He wasn't going to just STOP. Nikki was apparently a very good baker. He was also pretty sure that he was going to inhale them long before they reached the office. The shorter boy didn't seem satisfied with his answer, and suddenly the bag was out of his hand. "What the f*ck-" He didn't get a chance to cuss him out before Tubbo was taking off down the hall.

He was definitely taller and faster, so he had no idea why the idiot thought he could outrun him. He almost had him before Tubbo disappeared around a corner, and Tommy stopped to turn as well. He was met with the guy holding the door open for him, holding the bag of cookies triumphantly. "We're here!" What was- It was the office. He had basically just been tricked to sprinting to the office, and he was more reluctant to make a scene about eating now that he was actually in the doorway. "You're an ass." He spat under his breath, ignoring the gleeful smile he was getting in response.

Stepping inside had the mean-looking middleaged women put her phone down to acknowledge him, her eyes seemingly lighting up as she spotted him. "You must be Thomas! You're Phil's new boy, aren't you?" She was too friendly, and he didn't like being referred to as 'Phil's boy'. "Yes, I am." He was a charismatic little sh*t, though. So it was easy to plaster a smile on as he stepped aside so Tubbo could come in after him. "Where's your brother?" Tommy inched himself away a bit more as the lady addressed his 'student guide'. "Sibling. And I'm taking over for them." He wasn't sure what the sour face the lady made was in reference to.

"Here's his schedule, and I'll notify your teachers. Don't take him outside before lunch. You can both eat first period." Tubbo was suddenly getting handed a bunch of papers. The brunette just nodded before walking out of the office. Tommy followed him despite having NO f*ckING CLUE what he was actually supposed to be doing. Once they were outside the office, the bag of snickerdoodles was returned. He refused to accept the treat like some kind of dog, so they were shoved into his pocket. "I'll show you your locker first. It's close to mine, I think." The top paper was scanned over before it was being offered to him.

"You think?" Tommy had a reason to not know where sh*t was. "Well, it's near the split. So it could be near the end of the row where the hall changes." He had no idea what the hell that meant, but he just nodded along like he did. Tubbo was apparently getting out of his classes for this.

So he better do a good f*cking job.

---

Tubbo was apparently an idiot. He claimed to know where everything was, but they circled the same corridor four times because it was a loop. It would've been funny if Tommy knew the location of more than two of his classes. "You're stupid." He threw out, watching the boy struggle to read the map. It was literally just the one story since freshmen didn't need the other levels. "I'm f*cking dyslexic!" He snorted, pretending that he didn't feel bad as he realized that it made sense consider how bad he was at reading out loud. "Dyslexic doesn't mean that you can't read pictures!" The argument was cut off as the third bell rang, and suddenly he was being dragged again.

"We get to eat first lunch! You can meet Nikki's friends!" Tommy's bitching was cut off as Tubbo mentioned his sister. She seemed tolerable and also just handed cookies out, which made her cool in his book. They somehow ended up at the front of the line, and Tubbo walked him through how getting a lunch worked. There was actually a few options that didn't suck, which surprised him. How was the food better at such a tiny school versus any of the much, much bigger ones he'd been in? Either way, Tubbo typed his 'school ID number' in for him before passing him ANOTHER paper.

Tommy had been shoving them haphazardly into his bag, but the one with his information actually seemed important. So that just went into his pocket after he folded it semi-neatly. "Nikki! Fundy!" Why was Tubbo so goddamn LOUD? "Hi." Thankfully his sister was more soft-spoken. He could only imagine how bad Eret was seeing as his siblings were polar opposites of each other. The Fundy tried to say something despite having his mouth full of what were probably chicken nuggets, spewing crumbs across the table. He (thankfully) cut himself off to finish chewing. Tubbo seemed unbothered by the mess as he slammed his tray down and took a seat across from his sister. "This is Tommy!"

"Whose Tommy?" It wasn't that big of a table, but some f*cker plopped himself on Tommy's left and essentially boxed him in. He was going to lose his sh*t. Why was everyone trying to be on top of him like a f*cking dog? The weird asshole reeked of smoke, like he had just put a fire out with his body. "Nick, f*ck off." Chicken nugget man was now his second favorite at the table, especially since he seemed ready to fight the guy who sat himself down. The name sounded familiar. Who mentioned a Nick to him? "He's new! And the guy who almost escaped Clay, if I remember correctly." He leaned closer, clearly having fun antagonizing the Fundy guy.

"Would you get the f*ck off of me?" Tommy spat, resisting the urge to throw his elbow into the guy. He was heavier set, and could probably beat his ass. He was closer to Techno the scale he invented, which meant that it was a bad idea to get into a physical altercation with him. "Sorry." He had a momentary wave of fear as the guy was getting up, until he saw him circle the table and plop himself on top of Fundy like he had done with Tommy. It was a lot funnier when it wasn't him. Especially once he threw an arm around him and just continued talking like Fundy wasn't going purple with rage. "He wants you to join cross country, but I was saying that you should join track! I'd normally try to get you on the wrestling team, but come on dude. Then George went on some dumbass rant about why you should be on swim team, so we're trying to see what you choose." What the f*ck was this guy talking about?

"But, like, then Clay said that we had to make it a little competition because he's a masoch*st. I got stuck with George on trying to get you on the swim team, but he's been a douchebag and all. So I was talking with Karl, and we decided that I should help out Clay and Bad instead!" Who the f*ck was he talking about? Why did people just talk about things without explaining anything to him! "But then Anthony said we shouldn't put money on it, so then we bet money on it! Basically, I'm saying that you should join cross country. There's five bucks in it for you." The Nick guy reached to take a nugget off of Fundy's tray, and Fundy actually turned and pushed him off of the seat. Or, tried to. Fundy was closer to Wilbur on the scale, so he didn't do much more than shove him.

"Dude!" Nick was still beaming like the asshole he seemed to be, but backed off after he did steal of the guy's tray. "Swim team seems fun." Tommy threw out, wanting to see if he could up the offer while ignoring Fundy's rage. He didn't actually know how to swim. He didn't have a reason to ever learn, so he just didn't bother. He had more important things to learn. Also, any of the rivers in the city were f*cking terrifying and probably full of used needles and garbage. You also couldn't get into most pools without an adult. Knowing the areas that had public pools, there was a good chance that they were also full of used needles and garbage.

Nick seemed taken back for a second, before his smile quickly returned. "How about ten bucks, and- uh-" He unceremoniously shoved his hands into his pocket, and came up with a pack of gum. "Half a pack of fruit gum." Tommy made a face to hide the fact that he wanted to laugh. This guy acted like he was straight out of a cartoon. Fundy still seemed ready to murder him, too. "Twenty." Instead of trying to talk him down, he got an excited look. "Really? f*ck yeah! f*cking, here!" He fished his wallet out like he did the gum, and suddenly there was a twenty dollar bill being waved in his face as Nick basically leaned over the table. He took it, naturally.

The Nick guy cheered obnoxiously before disappearing, and Tubbo decided to speak up after he was gone.

"Wait until they make you join manhunt."

Chapter 23

Chapter Text

"Is anyone going to explain what the f*ck 'manhunt' is?" Everyone seemed to just ignore Tubbo bringing it up once Nikki started talking about a new recipe she wanted to try. She turned to him, shrugged, and pointed up at something. Before he could bitch, the bell was going off and Tubbo took his tray to throw away his lunch he hadn't gotten the chance to eat. f*ck- He still had cookies. Everyone else was leaving by the time he was being dragged somewhere else. It took him a moment to realize that he was being taken outside. "Where the f*ck are we going?" He wasn't answered until after the boy quite literally kicked the door open and shoved him through. Which wasn't worrying AT ALL.

"Outside. There's the track and the football field and the back field and the course and the woods and-" Tubbo was wholeheartedly ranting about something. They were behind the school, and everything seemed a lot more intimidating. It was very.... empty. It was boxed in with the woods like everything else was.

Then he saw the f*cking deer.

---

Tubbo kept trying to explain to him that it wouldn't hurt him, but it was f*cking GIGANTIC with BIG HORNS. "They usually go away if you walk near them! Bucks aren't dangerous this time of year." Was that supposed to make him feel f*cking BETTER? "What time of year are they DANGEROUS?" Jesus f*ck, was he going to die? His brain completely shut off once he saw that it was looking at him. It had weird fish-eyes on the side of it's f*cking head, and it made it even more horrifying despite the fact that it was more than a mile away from him.

"Anyways-" Thankfully Tubbo was dragging him away somewhere, and the paralyzing fear he had felt was replaced by mild annoyance once he could focus on something else. "Why're you so goddamn touchy? I've known you for less than five f*cking hours." Their walking was paused, and he got a weirdly intense look. "Am I overstepping your boundaries?" It was probably a simple question, but his tome made him feel like he was being interrogated. "Boundries?" Why did the weird little brunette care about his boundries. Did... Did he HAVE boundaries? He never really put a lot of thought into it. He just lied and charmed his way through any problem he faced. He didn't really have standards.

"f*ck- uh- Yeah, don't touch me." That seemed like a good place to start. He got a nod in response, and his arm was promptly dropped. Tommy could ignore how stupid he felt about not having any standards or boundaries once he was back at the group home. But until then, he didn't need to worry about Tubbo touching him and sh*t anymore. "Anyways-" The nonsensical rant about what field was used for what continued, and Tommy felt a bit better since he could follow behind at his own pace.

Having boundries was cool.

---

"Eret said to tell you to tell Phil that Wilbur hasn't been going to swim practice." Tubbo was still talking, even now that they were on the goddamn bus. "Why do I care?" It sounded like something he could get Wilbur in trouble for, so he did care. But his new 'friend' didn't need to know that. "Eret said that it was important." Tommy rolled his eyes at that. His only impression of Tubbo's older brother was some weird asshole who stood on top of him. That was his only impression of that Nick, too. How many more people in the f*cking weird little area lacked personal space?

"Why is it important to him-" He was suddenly being cut off by Tubbo wacking the bag in his lap. "Them." What the f*ck was he talking about? "Who?" Tubbo made a face at him before just blatantly rolling his eyes. "Eret. Eret's them. Not him." He could've been speaking Spanish to him, and that would've made more sense. "I don't know what the f*ck you're talking about, big man." He got another weird look. "Eret. Eret uses they/them. Not he/him. They use neutral pronouns." Tommy had no idea what the f*ck that meant, but he just nodded along like he did.

"Why's it important to THEM?" Tubbo didn't seem upset at the emphasis he used, and just shrugged at his question. "They just know things. It's usually a good idea to listen." That didn't clarify anything, but it was mildly intriguing. Was Eret someone like Phil? Maybe his- their eyes were like Techno's. And they also f*cking knew Wilbur! If Eret was anything like Phil, he just wouldn't go anywhere near them. He was stuck in a household with two people like Phil, AND Phil himself. If he could identify any of the other weird f*ckers, then he could make sure to avoid them at all costs. "So are you or Nikki like Eret?"

Tubbo seemed taken back by the question, blinking at him like he said his teeth were falling out. "We LIKE Eret, if that's what you mean." He took the guy's absolute cluelessness as a sign that they probably weren't. Which was great.

He could only handle so many weird f*ckers in his life.

Chapter 24

Chapter Text

"Phil said he's not getting home 'till late. So." Techno broke the silence of the now-empty bus. Wilbur made an ugly noise from the back, his head peeking over the seat suddenly. "Why?" The shrug he got pulled another sad whale noise out of him, and Tommy f*cking lost it at that. The brunette looked like he was going to go over the seats at him, but a quick glance at the bus driver who was DEFINITELY watching their little exchange seemed to calm him down. "Don't know." The bus skidded to a stop, and Tommy let Techno wall off before him. Mostly because he hadn't looked up from his phone, and he was sure that the asshole would plow him over without realizing it. He did make a point of shoving himself in front of Wilbur, though.

"One of us has to cook." Techno was talking again, staring between both of them with the nerve-wracking unreadable deadpan that seemed to just be his face. "So." Tommy watched him shut his phone off and stow it away in his pocket, not knowing why he and Wilbur were sharing a tense look. "Last one there has to make dinner." With that, the pinkette BOLTED. If Clay running had been scary, then Techno dead-ass sprinting was terrifying. Wilbur getting a head start snapped him out of his stupor, and he was quickly joining them. It was easy to pass Wilbur, and he was barely behind Techno when he was suddenly stopping.

Tommy's face bounced off of his bag, and he almost went on his ass as he tried to get his bearings. "Wilbur has to cook. You're bleeding." Techno seemed unfazed by the fact that he was probably f*cking CONCUSSED. "You got f*cking bricks in there?" The warm liquid dribbling down his chin made him panic, realizing what the older boy had meant. He was bleeding. He probably caught his lip on one of the zippers on Techno's bad when he smashed his face into it. "Books." Was the last thing said to him before Techno disappeared into the house.

Did they really get that far? It felt like it had been barely a minute since he stepped off the bus. The moment of pause he had was enough time for Wilbur to apparently get into earshot. "f*ck!" He turned to the noise, and watched Wilbur drop his hands to his knees and pant. He was breathing hard enough that he was watching him shake, and even from far away he could imagine how loud he was as he visibly gulped for air. "HEY! f*ck YOU!" For some reason, Wilbur getting pissed at him for gawking at his despair was enough of a reason for him to burst out laughing. The older boy eventually composed himself to keep walking, and he was fuming by the time he was getting in his face.

Wilbur paled as he glanced down, the anger disappearing from his features as he seemed to realize that Tommy was profusely bleeding on himself. "Tommy. What the f*ck?" Wilbur looked like he was about to throw up on him, his unnervingly pale face turning green. "I just ran into Techno! The bitch stopped and I didn't." Talking made the partly scabbed over part of his split lip start dribbling blood again, and he was suddenly being pushed aside as Wilbur sprinted into the house. Something that sounded like 'clean yourself up' had been shouted at him before he was alone outside.

Did they really leave a bleeding child outside by himself?

---

Tommy's plan of going to the downstairs bathroom to rinse himself off and find a bandaid was quickly abandoned as he heard someone throwing up. Apparently Wilbur didn't like blood. He grimaced as he realized that the brunette had been forced to help clean up his 'incident' with Techno. His behavior seemed to make more sense, even if it was sh*tty. He found himself remember his absolute lack of first aid knowledge, watching the thin line of blood roll down his chin from the split in his lip. It was starting to hurt a lot more, and it really looked like it was bigger than before. Was it f*cking infected already? How f*cking dirty was Techno!?

"Ice it." Speaking of. He didn't get a chance to respond before the guy just GRABBED HIS f*ckING FACE. He tried to say something only or his cheeks to be squished in response. Tommy was tempted to start a fight with him purely for the embarrassment, but then he considered the fact that Techno could do more than just split his lip. "Hold still." Was all the warning he got before his face was scrubbed aggressively with what must've been f*cking wet sandpaper. Techno's maternal instincts were sh*t. His point was confirmed as the rag he had been using was shove back at the wound, and the older boy was suddenly leaving.

He was suddenly alone in the bathroom with his lip burning even worse than before. If he didn't know any better, he would've thought thought that Techno was trying to open the would all the way down his f*cking chin. Facing the mirror made it obvious that the blood had been successfully scrubbed off of his skin, though. It f*cking HURT. He wondered briefly if it would've been less painful if he had just knocked a tooth out on what he assumed was a zipper.

Could a zipper even f*ck his lip up that bad? He wouldn't put tiny bag knife zippers past Techno. He seemed like the type to do that kind of weird-ass sh*t. The overly aggressive scrubbing definitely didn't help with the swelling, and it looked like he got stung by a f*cking knife bee. His lip was split and swollen, and his expression was sour and angry as he examined himself in the mirror. He leaned closer, trying to gauge how bad the wound really was. He realized a moment later that his reflection was just watching him, in the same position it had been before he moved forward.

It cracked a too-wide smile at him before he was f*cking screaming.

Chapter 25

Chapter Text

Tommy blinked, flinching away from the monstrosity. He hesitantly cracked an eyes open, fully expecting the demon-him to be crawling out of the f*cking mirror. It was just him. Actual him, not the weird him. He would've been more concerned that no one bothered to see what the screaming was about, but his top priority was getting the f*ck away from the mirror. He wasn't sure why, but he was absolutely convinced that the f*cker was going to come through the glass at him. He wasn't going to stay long enough to see if it was was just his nerves.

He had been on his way to his room when he realized that the door was open and some BIG was rummaging around in the dark. Techno was suddenly in the doorway with one of his shirts he left on the floor. Tommy felt like he was somehow intruding on whatever the older boy was doing. The most he got was a huff of acknowledgement before he was suddenly going downstairs. The mirror demon was suddenly less of a priority as he found himself following Techno. Was this some weird sh*t? Techno didn't seem like the kind to be pedophile-y, but he was always warned that those were mostly likely the people who would do weird sh*t.

He followed him out of the house and into the yard, and realized too late what he was doing with the lighter. "WHAT THE f*ck?!" That was good f*cking shirt! Techno pulled a weird metal box of something out of his pocket as he dropped the burning fabric, and spraying it on made the flames triple in size. "I waited until you weren't wearing it." The gravely monotone of the asshole was suddenly f*cking infuriating. That shirt was one of the few things he actually OWNED. Besides the one he was currently wearing, the one that was probably ruined from the blood, he only had the green one.

His train of thought was stopped completely as Techno turned, his eyes reflecting the flames in a way that felt dangerous. Tommy was scared to hold eye contact with him, the idea of those flames being directed at him terrifying. He almost didn't hear Techno when he broke the silence.

"Don't come home smelling like him again."

---

Techno had gone inside, but Tommy was too busy moping over his burning shirt. That, and he was too scared to just follow behind the older boy. He felt like he had just been threatened. The only issue is that he couldn't figure out WHY. He usually had no problem antagonizing anyone who crossed his path, but Techno was actually scary. The mirror demon was less terrifying than Techno. And what the f*ck did he mean by 'smelling like him'? Who did he f*cking smell like? Why was Techno sniffing him? f*ck, it was really burning. His original plan was to put it out once Techno had left, but the sh*t he dumped on it must've been gasoline or something. There was no way to salvage that.

Tommy watched his beloved shirt burn for about another minute before he eventually decided to go inside. f*ck, Techno was officially as bad as Wilbur. He had really thought that they were getting along! His pouting somehow brought him to the kitchen, his grimace agitating his swollen lip that he had forgotten about. "You look like sh*t. Why were you screaming earlier?" Wilbur picked his head up briefly from whatever the f*ck he was doing, giving an overly judgmental look over him. "Why-" He had f*cking forgot. He ran from the mirror demon, got distracted by Techno burning his sh*t, and he somehow forgot.

"There was a f*cking evil me in the mirror! Then Techno set my shirt on fire in the f*cking yard!" He was remembering how pissed he was! "Aren't you the oldest? You're a sh*t babysitter." He normally would've been opposed to such a term considering how he was basically an adult, but he could swallow the embarrassment if it meant that he could mock Wilbur for sucking. He barely had time to react before a wet glob of something was stuck to the front of his shirt. "How about you make the chicken and biscuits then? If I remember correctly, the one who lost had to make food. And I'm making f*cking food." That asshole threw a glob of biscuit dough at him!

"Fine! I can follow f*cking directions on a goddamn box. Go get the demon out of the mirror!" Tommy was basically shouting, but he was still incredibly pissed. He was also a reasonable amount of afraid, too. Why wouldn't he be? It was f*cking scary! And Techno burned his favorite f*cking shirt! His swollen lip was forgotten as Wilbur and his sticky fingers shoved past him, leaving him with the dinner prep. He never cooked in his LIFE. But it was literally a box that told you what to do, so how hard could it be? He washed his hands, read the instructions, and followed them. He didn't know how to preheat the oven, so he was satisfied with the numbers that showed up after he hit a few buttons. He tossed the pan with the weird gravy sh*t and biscuits into the oven, actually proud of himself.

He was a f*cking genius.

Chapter 26

Chapter Text

Tommy was a great f*cking chef. He washed the residue of the biscuit mush off of his hands before he went to see if Wilbur had done something about the mirror demon. He walked into the upstairs bathroom to see the older boy leaning agaisnt the mirror, seemingly focused on staring down his own reflection. "Wilbur! Is it gone?" He didn't intend to scare him, but it was funny to see him bounce his forehead off of the mirror as he tried to turn with his face still against the glass. "You f*cking gremlin!" Wilbur hissed at him, slapping a hand to cradle where he just injured himself. Tommy's laughter was immediately stopped as he realized that the mirror Wilbur wasn't glaring at him.

It actually seemed quite amused, and Tommy was about to start screaming again. Wilbur seemed to notice his panic, and turned to his 'reflection'. Mirror Wilbur mimicked him for a second, before it moved forward and scared the sh*t out of Wilbur. They were both screaming once it's hand was on the glass, seemingly trying to push through the surface. Tommy didn't know why he was staring at the ceiling until he watched Wilbur basically vault over his head. The fear was quickly replaced with anger. "YOU f*ckING PUSHED ME!" There was an evil mirror demon and Wilbur's first reaction was to f*cking SHOVE HIM? Oh... A glance at the mirror had the fear returning, especially once he realized that the mirror was f*cking SHAKING.

"WILBUR YOU BITCH!" Tommy was also shaking as he got to his feet, almost going on his face as he tried to make his way down the stairs as quickly as he could. "WHAT THE f*ck DID YOU DO!?" Wilbur was screaming right back at him, seemingly ready to come over the couch at him. Apparently said couch housed a very confused looking Techno, who Tommy could see was on his back with a book sprawled across his chest. "I think I missed something." His stupid f*cking monotone was a stark contrast to his and Wilbur's screaming. "THERE'S A MIRROR CREATURE, YOU BACON-BITS f*ck!" Tommy quickly went from angry to laughing as he processed the insult Wilbur just dished out.

"If you want my help, don't insult me." Techno even seemed to be smiling at the insult, which was weird since Tommy hadn't seen his expression change very much over the course of their interactions. "We don't need-" Tommy was quick to cut Wilbur off. "You pushed me after you smacked your f*cking face off the mirror! Let the man help!" The pinkette snorted at that. Honestly, Tommy was amazed that he didn't seem more concerned with checking on the screaming in the first f*cking place.

"Let's get the book."

---

Tommy had no idea what this 'book' was, but Wilbur immediately lost all sense of defiance the second it was mentioned. It was probably a bad sign that the two were rummaging through Phil's room. ESPECIALLY since Techno had his nose in the air like a f*cking dog, seemingly trying to sniff something out. It worked, apparently. Techno ended up in front of the closet, and loudly jingled the handle like it would magically unlock if he shook the sh*t out of it. "It's locked." He confirmed, as if it was even a f*cking question. "sh*t. Do you think we could find a key?" Were they both idiots? For some reason neither of them thought of the very obvious solution. "Why don't we just pick the lock?"

He got a very confused expression from Wilbur, and an unreadable one from Techno that he imagined could've been confusion if he squinted. "That would require one of us knowing how." Tommy suddenly felt very, very important. "I'm the big man now." Both of them seem confused by whatever he was talking about. Which gave him the perfect opportunity to get into Phil's sh*t. He found both a paperclip and a Bobby pin in a cup of miscellaneous little things on the desk. He bent them both into the shape he needed, stuck them inside, and closed his eyes. Barely ten seconds of wiggling later, he turned the nob to pull open the door. "I'm f*cking awesome. What?" He was getting looks that he did not like.

"Holy sh*t." Wilbur seemed dumbfounded by his awesomeness. "You felt it too, right?" Techno just f*cking ignored him, instead addressing the brunette like he wasn't in the room. "Should we tell Phil? We have a gremlin skeleton key now." Tommy was going to beat Wilbur's ass. "I f*cking helped! Stop talking sh*t!" Techno seemed to be on his side seeing as he smacked Wilbur in the side. "Tommy, you don't know how to pick lock." He was reconsidering fighting the pinkette. "f*ck you I don't! I've been doing it since I was little." That just seemed to freak the two out more. The dispute was cut short as something that was probably in the bathroom sounded like it was thrown against the wall.

"The books more important." Tommy had no idea what the f*ck this 'book' was supposed to do, but he would agree with Techno if the older boy could get rid of the mirror demon. He moved aside as he heard Techno start sniffing the air again. He was mildly disgusted, but his solution was to hang out by Phil's nightstand since he was too scared to leave the room. For all he knew, it had crawled out of the f*cking mirror already. If it did, he refused to be the one to find out. Wilbur could, since it was him last. What if they had to tell which one was the real- Actually, Tommy was okay with mirror demon Wilbur so long as it was slightly nicer than current Wilbur. If anything, it would be an upgrade.

"Found it. I just need to remember how it works. Come on." Tommy let Wilbur follow behind Techno, not super interested in whatever book they were talking about. It looked old and musty, and it was way too big. "Who cares. It should have everything." Tommy wasn't sure what they were talking about, but he didn't care so long as the bathroom was safe to piss in again. He didn't want to go up and down the stairs every time he had to piss at night. If the mirrors were randomly full of demons, he didn't want to traverse the dark of the night if he didn't have to. Maybe he just had to get really good at pissing in bottles. Out of everything he had done in his adventures, he had never been forced to piss in a bottle. It didn't SEEM complicated, but it seemed unnecessary if Techno just un-demoned the upstairs bathroom.

For some reason, Tommy got shoved in first. His reflection seemed normal until it f*cking glared at Techno, so he retreated back into the tub where it couldn't directly face him. If something went wrong, he was f*cking trapped. Techno was shoved in by Wilbur, who seemed content to stand in the doorway. "Fix it." The reflections of the two became startling normal as Techno slammed the heavy-ass book down on the countertop. It hit hard enough that even Tommy felt rattled by it. "Okay, so what all happened?" The two got talking while Tommy watched them flip through the book. "It made faces at me after you scrubbed the blood off my face, and it laughed at Wilbur after he smacked his face." It didn't seem relevant, but Techno nodded like it was useful and went back to scanning the pages. "I'm not seeing anything. But I have an idea."

With that, Techno slammed the book shut loudly.

Before swinging it into the mirror like it was a bat.

---

Tommy was still shaking. Techno smashed the book into the mirror hard enough to basically obliterate it, and then just left with the book like he hadn't just been terrifying. Wilbur thankfully let him escape downstairs, where he was currently fixated on whatever stupid sitcom he had put on to watch. His eyes were following the character's movements, but anything they were saying just plainly didn't register to him. Did Techno actually fix it? Or was the mirror demon free to roam the f*ck around and try to kill him? For the first time since he was brought to the hell house, he actually wanted Phil. Phil knew things. Phil would most likely yell at Wilbur for pushing him, too. Phil could probably even get rid of the mirror demon.

"TOMMY!" He was pulled out of his head when someone shouted his name from the kitchen. He begrudgingly got up, shuffling his way through the hallway to get there. He peeked in to see if it was the mirror demon, but it was just bitchy Wilbur. Which was unfortunately normal Wilbur. He seemed to be really mad about something. "Wha'?" Wilbur looked like he was about to yell at him, but he cut himself off by laughing. "You're a f*cking idiot! I'm-" He seemed to struggle to catch his breath from how hard he was laughing, his face going red as he wheezed. Tommy wouldn't mention it since he was still trying to figure out if he was getting yelled at, but it was probably from all the smoking. Wilbur composed himself enough to actually stand straight with a semi-serious expression.

"You didn't turn the oven on."

Chapter 27

Chapter Text

For some reason, Techno was fine with eating the dissolved slop that was the unbaked biscuit dough that disintegrated into the wet chicken mash. Since he had basically scraped the top layer off of what was in the pan, it left the rest of what was basically just cold chicken with squishy vegetables and sh*t. Wilbur had thrown a heaping glob their bowls, and popped them in the microwave. Tommy felt weird about joining Techno in the living room, so he was just standing against the sink awkwardly. "You manifested it, you know. Gremlin boy summoned a mirror creature." Wilbur eventually spoke up after a stretch of uncomfortable silence.

"You f*cking pushed me." It was a bad retort, but it was all he could come up with. Speaking after not moving his face for so long made his lip throb painfully, and a dull heat bloomed in scab. He was worried about reopening it after seeing what it had done when fresh. "sh*t- Guess that wasn't fixed." Wilbur turned and began rummaging through the top part of the fridge for some reason. Tommy had no clue what he was doing until a bag was thrown at his f*ckING FACE. He thankfully got it before it collided, but he was understandably pissed. "Why'd you throw f*cking peas at me!"

Wilbur just tried to assult him with frozen veggies! "It's the one we use as an ice pack. I'm pretty sure it expire long before I came home." The tone he was using was... semi-friendly? It wasn't the usual amount of bitch that it had been any other time he spoke, so it seemed to be SOME kind of improvement. Tommy's lip still stung as he shoved the bag against it, his muffled noise of pain being overshadowed by the sound of the microwave going off. His bowl was left on the counter, and he watched Wilbur take his to probably eat in the living room with Techno. He stared at the hot mash of what was probably supposed to be some kind or casserole as he sat with the frozen peas on his lip.

There was a choking noise, a smacking noise, and then Wilbur was in the kitchen. Tommy was about to question him, but stopped as he watched the older boy put the head of the hose for the sink into his mouth and turn the water on. "Don't eat that." Was all the explanation he got before the bowl was being taken. Techno f*cking appeared out of nowhere, casually striding past his brother to refill his bowl from the pan. "It's f*cking bad! Stop eating it!" Wilbur shouted from where he was scraping their bowls into the trash. Tommy waited for Techno's response, expecting him to listen. "So you guys don't want any." It was NOT a f*cking question.

"It's not f*cking food anymore! Stop eating it." The hum in Wilbur's tone made Techno snort at him, and Tommy put together why. So Wilbur still couldn't do his sing-y mind control garbage. He didn't realize he was laughing until the brunette turned to him, going red in the face. "You should be on my side! I saved you from trying it. It's f*cking spoiled. Don't eat any more of it." Techno nodded at his words for a moment, before he continued to fill his bowl. "Noted." Tommy's laughter wasn't being acknowledged anymore, which was good because the two were f*cking hilarious to watch. "NO, not 'noted'! It's not f*cking edible!" Techno's only response was to shove a spoonful in his mouth, making Wilbur gag at the sight.

"What's it gonna do? Kill me?" Wilbur went red in the face again, and looked like he was about to start ACTUALLY screaming. Techno did have a point, though. "What's killing who?" A voice chimed from the entrance of the kitchen, where Tommy saw Phil standing. He seemed to be happy to see them all, which he would've been more disgusted with if he didn't have other things to worry about. The man looked over his son's, his smile dropping as he seemed to look through them both.

"Who broke what?"

---

Phil didn't exactly get an answer, but he had still gone to work making something for him and Wilbur. Maybe also Techno? That bitch could EAT. Tommy was pretty sure it was because he was, like, two feet wide. He probably had a lot of stuff that needed fueled. "Here. We don't eat spoiled food." Phil had literally just whipped up omelets for them. Tommy wasn't about to complain about breakfast at 8pm, especially since the guy's cooking was usually really good. He cut into his only for hot cheese and what looked like some kind of meat chunks to ooze out. He pulled the bag of peas from his face to start eating, only for it to get snatched from his hand.

"What the f*ck happened? Did you get in a fight?" Phil grabbed his face, looking him over worriedly. Apparently his arm and the bag had been blocking the giant bloodstain on the front of him enough that Phil didn't notice it. "No! I'm a big man, no one f*cks with me." He got kicked under the table for some reason, but chose to ignore it because he wasn't doing anything WRONG. "Tommy, you're drenched in blood. Please tell me what happened." The tone he was getting was making him very, very guilty all of a sudden. "I just ran into Tech's bag 'cause he stopped in front of me." He didn't like the ugly crack in his voice as he spoke. Phil seemed content with the answer, and walked away towards what Tommy assumed was the pantry.

"So are we telling him about the mirror?" Techno still sounded just as depressed and gravelly even as he whispered, looking between the two of them. "I say we just ignore it, and let Phil find it. He can't prove anything if we don't panic." Wilbur was talking like the two of them had done this sh*t before. He REALLY shouldn't have been surprised, but he honestly didn't think that either of them were the type to just smash mirrors randomly. Actually, Techno gave off that vibe because of how roid-rage-y his appearance was. Their scheming was cut off by Phil coming back with another, although smaller, glass bottle of the yellow stuff he kept feeding him.

"Here. You shouldn't need much, but just take it all to be safe." Phil passed the glass vial off to him before going back to the stove, probably getting himself food. "So how was everyone's day?" Tommy made a face at how stupid the question was, hoping the other two thought it was just from the weird taste of the yellow liquid. "Good." Techno grumbled quietly, picking at his omelet. "If your day was so good, why'd you burn my f*cking shirt? Hmm?" The sense of pain leaving him for a growing warmth got him in more of a mood to fight. Techno just stared at him from across the tables, seemingly unimpressed. "You did what?" Phil whipped around so hard that Tommy was worried that his spatula was going to go flying.

"Wilbur's the one that had him rubbing on Tommy." Techno's tone dropped a bit as he glared at his plate, somehow managing to get an air of danger around him despite the fact that he was glaring into a pile of eggs. "What I do?" Of course Wilbur wasn't paying attention to the conversation. "Who was rubbing me?" The brunette was laughing at Tommy's words, but Phil most definitely wasn't. "What the hell am I missing?" Tommy took too long to realize that he made it sound like he got molested in front of the guy who was technically his legal guardian for the week. "It's Wilbur's fault that Tommy smelled like him." Techno growled, not looking up from his plate. Something seemed to click in Wilbur's head, and he snorted. "His ex, Phil."

Tommy tried to remember when a woman had touched him, and all he could think of was when he had met Minx. Did Techno and Minx date? That seemed like a real sh*t pair. His train of thought was cut off by a hand being slammed into the table hard enough to make it groan under the force. "Don't call him that." Tommy didn't have time to ask if Techno was gay because he was too busy being afraid. His eyes looked like they were blazing, which apparently HADN'T been from flames earlier. His lip was pulled back in what was either a sneer or a growl, both of which showed off too-sharp incisors. Tommy's heart was beating too fast, and every fiber of his being told him to f*cking RUN.

The air of danger dropped as Techno seemingly slumped in his chair, shoving the collar of his sweatshirt up over his mouth like he was trying to hide in it. Phil made a noise from where he was by the stove, and was soon behind the guy. He genuinely thought that he was going to yell at him, but Phil laid a hand over Techno's head and hummed. Whatever tension from him seemed to melt away as the his eyes seemed to fade back to the dull crimson. "Tommy didn't do anything wrong, bud. I know it's hard having any part of that guy in the house, but Tommy doesn't have a lot." Tommy had no idea who the f*ck they were talking about.

Either way, he was just grateful that he didn't feel like he was having a heart attack anymore. At least he knew what to expect if he actually managed to piss Techno off. He knew now that he couldn't run faster than him, but hopefully he could get his gangly ass up a tree faster if the guy decided to murder him. Wilbur seemed content to eat as if everything around him wasn't being f*cked up. Phil went back to the stove, seemingly satisfied with the results of whatever the hell he had done. "So Tommy, I'm taking you clothes shopping tomorrow. Unless you're okay with whatever old clothes these two have?" Wilbur dressed like sh*t, and any of Techno's clothes would probably just make him look anorexic. "That's what I though. Anyways, how was your day?"

Tommy shrugged and picked at his meal, knowing he could eat now that his lip felt a lot better. "The guy who showed me around was a f*cking idiot. His sister's cool and gave me cookies. His older br- bitch, I mean, stands on people like a dog. I might be joining cross country-" His retelling of the days events were cut off by some grotesque crunching noise. He scanned for it, and it took to long to put together that Techno was holding the end of the fork without the head of the fork. He tried to not make a face when the guy spit the fork head out of his mouth, more focused on how f*cking terrified he seemed.

"You can't." Techno's eyes were wide, and he looked like he was either going to scream or start crying. Phil was suddenly sitting down beside him with his own plate, his expression more mellow but equally concerning. "You can't just tell him he can't. You have to explain why you don't want him to." Techno looked like an exasperated toddler, his mouth hanging open as he glanced between him and Phil. "You should've just beat his ass like I said when he called you queer in the middle of lunch." Wilbur chimed in. Tommy only vaguely knew what that word meant. "Wilbur." Techno f*cking WHINED. His brother seemed to take the hint and cleared his throat, sitting up in his seat more as he directed his focus on Tommy.

"You know that Clay guy from Saturday? He sucks. He also does cross country, and the smell of him makes dear Tech here very sad." What the f*ck was that supposed to mean? "Why'd you act all nice to him and sh*t if he sucks so much?" Wilbur f*cking SMIRKED at him like he knew something. "I'm friendly with everyone, Tommy." All the acknowledgment that got was a grunt from Techno before the pinkette was escaping to some other part of the house. Phil was quickly on his feet, going after him. "Okay, they're gone. Clay and Tech kinda dated for a bit, right? Well Clay's-" Tommy cut him off, still not sure what was going on. "So he's gay?" Wilbur gave him an unimpressed look like he asked something stupid. "Vaguely gay. Long story on that sh*t."

What the f*ck was vaguely gay supposed to mean? "Anyways, Clay f*cked it up. They were attached at the hip before I got here, and that was five years ago. Not like drifting apart f*cking it up, either. He said some sh*t and I wasn't there to help. That's where you come in." Tommy nodded.

"So what does queer mean?"

Chapter 28

Chapter Text

Wilbur had stopped talking to him after he asked. Which was bullsh*t because he still diddidn't have an answer. He cleaned it plate and stuck the dishes in the sink before heading off to his room, peeling his bloodied shirt off more as an afterthought. Apparently he tired himself out a bit more than he had initially thought.

---

𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘢𝘨𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘶𝘧𝘧𝘰𝘤𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘤𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘬𝘺. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘶𝘯𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘮 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘢𝘴 𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘢𝘵𝘩 𝘭𝘢𝘪𝘥 𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘩𝘪𝘮. 𝘞𝘩𝘺 𝘦𝘭𝘴𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘣𝘦 𝘤𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘪𝘮? 𝘐𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘢 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘺 𝘤𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘰𝘧 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘴𝘶𝘱𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘨𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨. 𝘌𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘪𝘥𝘯'𝘵 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘴𝘶𝘱𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘨𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸, 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩.

𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘬𝘴 𝘩𝘦 𝘬𝘦𝘱𝘵 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘪𝘭𝘺 𝘢𝘴 𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳. 𝘏𝘦 𝘮𝘢𝘥𝘦 𝘢 𝘭𝘦𝘧𝘵 𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘰𝘤𝘬 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘱𝘭𝘪𝘵 𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘪𝘥𝘥𝘭𝘦, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘵 𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘺 𝘰𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘰𝘳 𝘶𝘯𝘵𝘰𝘶𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘴𝘴. 𝘏𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘨𝘰 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘱𝘢𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘣𝘶𝘳𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦, 𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘵 𝘨𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘦𝘴 𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘶𝘵𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘪𝘵 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘢𝘳𝘬 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘥. 𝘏𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘮𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘤𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘦, 𝘸𝘳𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨.

𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘭𝘢𝘴𝘴 𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘱𝘢𝘭𝘮, 𝘳𝘦𝘧𝘭𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘶𝘯 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘵𝘰 𝘤𝘶𝘳𝘭 𝘪𝘯 𝘰𝘯 𝘪𝘵𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘯𝘦𝘹𝘵. 𝘏𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥𝘯'𝘵 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘪𝘵 𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘶𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘸𝘢𝘴. 𝘏𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘪𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘦𝘮𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘵, 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩. 𝘐𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘮 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘱𝘢𝘭𝘮, 𝘩𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘳𝘩𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘮𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘪𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘣𝘦𝘢𝘵. 𝘐𝘵 𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘰𝘭𝘷𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘢 𝘭𝘪𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘥 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘦 𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘹𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘵, 𝘥𝘳𝘪𝘱𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳𝘵𝘪𝘱𝘴 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘨𝘭𝘰𝘣𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘸𝘦𝘵 𝘴𝘢𝘯𝘥.

𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘰𝘵 𝘨𝘭𝘢𝘴𝘴 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘴𝘴 𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘯𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩 𝘰𝘧 𝘪𝘵, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘵𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘭𝘢𝘮𝘦 𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘦 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘮𝘰𝘬𝘦. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘦𝘯𝘨𝘶𝘭𝘧𝘦𝘥, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘮𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧 𝘳𝘶𝘯𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘳𝘰𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯𝘧𝘦𝘳𝘯𝘰 𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘪𝘵 𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘥𝘳𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘩𝘪𝘮. 𝘏𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘥 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘱𝘰𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘵 𝘢𝘮𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘴. 𝘐𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯, 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘤𝘩 𝘮𝘢𝘥𝘦 𝘪𝘵 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘪𝘤𝘬𝘭𝘺 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘴𝘬𝘪𝘯 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘱𝘶𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘴 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘯𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩. 𝘐𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘢 𝘭𝘰𝘵 𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘩𝘪𝘮, 𝘪𝘵'𝘴 𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘰𝘱𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘴. 𝘐𝘵 𝘴𝘶𝘥𝘥𝘦𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘴𝘱𝘭𝘪𝘵 𝘪𝘵𝘴 𝘮𝘰𝘶𝘵𝘩 𝘰𝘱𝘦𝘯 𝘪𝘯 𝘢 𝘴𝘪𝘤𝘬𝘦𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘦, 𝘣𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘴𝘭𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘳𝘶𝘯𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘪𝘵𝘴 𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘢𝘴 𝘪𝘵 𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘪𝘵𝘴 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘴𝘬𝘪𝘯 𝘢𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵.

𝘐𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘴𝘶𝘥𝘥𝘦𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘪𝘯 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘦, 𝘩𝘶𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘮 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘦. 𝘐𝘵 𝘴𝘮𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘯 𝘸𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘧𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘩, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘶𝘱 𝘤𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘶𝘯𝘬𝘦𝘯 𝘦𝘺𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘤𝘬𝘦𝘵𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘣𝘰𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘺 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘩𝘪𝘮. 𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘣𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘺 𝘣𝘪𝘨𝘨𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘢 𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘪𝘭, 𝘴𝘸𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘢𝘳𝘬𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘮 𝘢𝘭𝘮𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘦𝘢𝘮𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘴. 𝘐𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘢𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘪𝘮, 𝘱𝘶𝘧𝘧𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘸𝘦𝘵 𝘢𝘪𝘳 𝘧𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘶𝘢𝘨𝘦 𝘪𝘵 𝘶𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘨𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘢 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘢𝘤𝘩𝘦.

𝘐𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘴𝘶𝘥𝘥𝘦𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘤𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘦𝘳, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘮𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘰𝘧 𝘳𝘰𝘵 𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘢𝘴 𝘪𝘵'𝘴 𝘴𝘪𝘤𝘬𝘦𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘵 𝘪𝘵'𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘺 𝘥𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘮 𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘦. 𝘐𝘵 𝘴𝘶𝘥𝘥𝘦𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘭𝘶𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘮, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘥.

Apparently he also threw a punch

---

"WHAT THE f*ck TOMMY?" His eyes weren't open yet and he was already being yelled at. He tried to blink the sleep out of his eyes, rubbing his face to try and wake himself up. "Why am I f*cking wet?" His face was drenched with what was DEFINITELY not sweat. Tommy took too long to realize why Wilbur was sitting on the ground clutching his nose and what looked like a spray bottle. "WHY'D YOU f*ckING HIT ME?" Wilbur was very pissed off at him. Which made sense since he could see the blood poking out from between his fingers. Did he really just break Wilbur's nose? In his SLEEP?! Phil said he only got to hit him once and he wasted it!

"There was a monster! It f*cking attacked me so I punched it!" It really wasn't his fault that Wilbur happened to be there. Tommy was too busy being angry to realize that said guy had been spraying him in the f*cking face. "Why'd you spray me?!" The bottle was haphazardly thrown at his face, smacking the wall behind him as it missed by over a foot. He watched Wilbur pull his hand away, look at his bloodied fingers, and promptly pass the f*ck out. He panicked for a second, still too asleep to deal with whatever was happening around him. Wilbur looked f*cking dead, and he was still groggy as sh*t. f*ck, he REALLY needed an adult.

"PHIL?!"

---

Apparently it was still a few hours before he had to be awake. Phil had quite literally stumbled into his room, tripping over the green bathrobe he was wearing. Tommy couldn't see for a second when the light was turned on, but he took too long to realize why Phil was making that expression. The front of him was still soaked, and Wilbur was passed out on the floor bleeding. "I had a nightmare and I sleep punched 'em." He spat quickly, not wanting to upset the man when he was technically still cornered.

Phil gave him a look he didn't understand, before walking over to him silently. His first instinct was to flinch away, but he let himself relax slightly as he saw the man retrieve the spray bottle from where it had landed on the floor near him. "I don't know what he was doing. He must've gotten into something. Lock your door and I'll handle it in the morning." Tommy couldn't find it in himself to laugh at watching Phil drag the limp Wilbur out of his room like he was dead. He waited a bit before getting up, expecting to hear more f*cking chaos going on outside of his room.

Once he was sure it was safe, he went and shut his door. He locked it before shutting the lights off, crawling back into bed while trying to avoid the parts of his comforter that were wet. He couldn't get to sleep for the next few hours, his shock and residual fear from his dream keeping his heart racing.

Chapter 29

Chapter Text

Tommy hadn't gone back to sleep despite his body's protests, so he was on his feet as soon as he heard Phil knock on his door and announce breakfast. He needed something to get his mind off of the night's events. His knuckles throbbed slightly from where he socked Wilbur, and he was still trying to wrap his head around the whole interaction. He had gone to sleep just so he couldn't write it off as some kind of weird fever dream. That, and he was scared of encountering the weird flesh demon again. For some reason, he felt like it was waiting for him. He wasn't sure how long he could go without sleeping, but he would be damned if he didn't try and find out.

He unlocked his door and wandered down the stairs, half expecting something to go horribly wrong on his way down. Nothing did. Phil was just flipping pancakes. "Hey Toms!" The man seemed oddly friendly despite the fact that Tommy punched his son last night. Phil hadn't actually seemed that surprised if he remembered correctly. "He f*cking knows." He was being whispered at angrily by Wilbur as he sat down across from him, not acknowledging what vaguely sounded like a threat. "Yes I do! Wil told me all about it when he woke up and started crying." He didn't mean to laugh, but Phil said it so matter-of-factly.

"I wasn't CRYING, my eyes watered because Tommy f*cking punched me!" The brunette was sporting some nasty purple rings around his eyes, but his nose seemed to be rather untouched. It must've been that weird yellow sh*t that Phil was so fond of using. The sicken rings made him look even more like a vengeful corpse, which he didn't know was possible. It made how pale he was much more noticeable. He would've suggested a tan if Wilbur didn't look ready to stab him in the face. Techno seemed rather indifferent to everything going on around him, flipping through something on his phone.

"You broke into my room!" Saying that Wilbur broke in while he was sleeping and getting his ass beat up by the youngest sounded a lot cooler than having to say that he sleep punched him. He didn't know that he could even sleep punch. "You did, Wil. Remember that time that Techno tagged you because you did it to him? You should've learned by now." Phil looked a lot more amused than he sounded. "What's tagging?" Tommy knew of the game, naturally. But he also knew that it made no sense for them to break out in a game of chase in the middle of the damn night. Wilbur visibly paled at the mention of it, averting his gaze. He looked like he was about to puke at the mention of it.

"I kicked him in the nuts." Techno's stupid monotone was only interrupted by the start of a smile on his face. "Which we don't do." Phil shot back, dishing pancakes out on everyone's respective plate. "He f*cking did it." Wilbur practically hissed, uncapping the bottle that appeared to be syrup while glaring at his brother. Tommy didn't want to interrupt, waiting to see if Wilbur actually started a fistfight with Techno. He was sure that it wouldn't do much more than cement his Techno to Wilbur scale of fight-ability.

"You crawled on top of me and then tried to shake me awake." Techno snorted, his gaze focused on his phone even as he started eating. Tommy watched as Wilbur turned the bottle, and kept turning. It was upside-f*cking-down, glugging a thick stream of syrup onto his plate. He must've emptied half the bottle before he was satisfied with himself. He almost gagged as he watched the older boy eat with a spoon. It was basically spoonfuls of syrup with bits and pieces of pancake scattered about. He found something else to look so he didn't make a scene from gagging. Wilbur was f*cking disgusting. For all the sugar he ate, wasn't he supposed to be aweet or something? He was just an asshole.

"We were talking about the mirror, guys."

---

Wilbur apparently ranted about the events of the previous night to Phil since he asked about the broken glass while the brunette was out of it, going into detail about how 'Tommy sent the mirror demon at him' and 'Techno ate the garbage chicken' before he started crying. Tommy had no idea why Phil didn't seem ready to beat the sh*t out of all of them. The man had only demanded to know if any of them got cut or otherwise injured from it, and seemed to calm down once he thought they were all okay physically. He said they would 'talk about it' after they all got back from school. So naturally Tommy was going to avoid that sh*t. In his experience, that meant that the adult needed time to plot about what sh*tty thing they were going to subjected them to.

He was tired as he flopped down in the same seat as yesterday, glaring out the window. He apparently fell asleep since someone flopping into the seat beside him jolted him awake. "You look like sh*t, did something happen?" Tubbo was loud and he felt a headache coming on. f*ck, why did this guy decide he had to be his friend? "No, something didn't 'happen'." He lied. What was he going to do? Tell the little brunette that his night started with a split lip, had a mirror creature and a spoiled casserole in the middle, and ended with him sicking Wilbur while he was unconscious? It sounded like some weird B-rated movie plot, and he had actually been there!

"You sure? I won't tell anyone." Tommy snorted at that. Tubbo was like some kindergartener trying to pry secrets from his friends. "You know what? Something did happen. There was a mirror demon, and we had to use this really old book to get rid of it. We couldn't read it, so Techno ended up smashing the mirror." He basically spat the words out, a smile growing once he saw his self proclaimed 'friend's expression. "Fine. Don't tell me. We have almost all the same classes, so I have all day to figure it out." If he wasn't very tired and still mildly terrified of the skin monster from his dream, he would've found it funny that Tubbo wanted the truth after it was thrown at him.

"Anyways, Eret said that you didn't tell Phil. So I was told to give this to you." Tubbo thankfully changed the conversation, fishing something out of his pocket. "They said to staple it to your shirt, but that's weird and I'm not doing it. Plus they probably knew I wouldn't, so maybe they were joking?" Tommy nodded along like he was listening even though he only caught about a third of whatever the guy was rambling about. He unfolded the note, and immediately gave up trying to read the indecipherable cursive. He only knew how to forge signatures in cursive, he couldn't actually READ it. He never really had a reason to.

"-then Nikki said that almond meal was different from almond flour. How was I supposed to know?" Tubbo was still talking. It at least filled the silence enough that he wasn't completely alone with his half-alseep thoughts. "I dunno, big man." He threw out, wanting to seem like he was listening so the background noise of the other boy's story continued. He had no idea how almonds had anything to do with macaroons, but he probably would if he had been paying attention. Oh well. He didn't realize that the bus had stopped until Tubbo was suddenly dragging him off, still talking. His head felt like it was full of pudding. Why was he so out of it? He probably only lost two or three hours of sleep.

Apparently Tubbo sat with his siblings at the start of the day, so he was soon facing the Eret guy(?) and the Nikki girl. Both of which just gave him a polite smile before almost completely ignoring him.

Today was going to SUCK.

Chapter 30

Chapter Text

Tommy's first couple of classes sucked. He didn't listen to any of the names of the teacher's. His only saving grace was that Tubbo seemed to attach himself to his side, which made the looks he kept getting a bit more bearable. He felt unwelcomed, which he was used to. What he wasn't used to was the eyes burning into the back of his skull even when no one was looking at him. It was freaking him out, but it also wasn't the weirdest thing about his day. He assumed that it was because of how exhausted he was from Wilbur's bullsh*t earlier. "You keep nodding off. Are you okay?" He picked his head up off his arm, shooting a glance over at his desk-mate. "I'm fine, big man." It came off a bit nastier than he intended, but Tubbo didn't seem to get fazed by a bit of bitchiness.

"We have second lunch with Schlatt today, so I could grab you a packet of coffee off of him. It's not that bad if you mix it into your milk." What the f*ck was he talking about? "That guy who sells vapes?" He was pretty sure that Schlatt was the one Wilbur warned him about. Was it that Minx girl? No, Minx was the cool girl with purple hair that smacked Wilbur. "Well, yeah. But he sells lots of stuff. I'm pretty sure you can get anything off of him if you ask him ahead of time." Tubbo seemed much too casual about talking about this guy. Something clicked suddenly, and he suddenly felt like a genius. "Does he sell weed?" He was pretty sure that he was quiet already, but he was being shushed like he was shouting about drugs.

"You do that stuff? Don't let him find out, Tommy." Why was he so f*cking freaked out? Schlatt was just some weird teenage drug(?) and coffee dealer that had mutton chops like an old man from some WW1 painting. "No, I don't do drugs. I was in the system, not juvie." Tubbo would be more of an idiot if he wasn't mildly amusing. And also his only friend. Tubbo was his only friend at the moment, so he couldn't be TOO mean to him. He didn't want to end up like Techno. Actually, Techno was as thick as a door and apparently mastered sword fighting. Was the secret to turning into someone with the body of the terminator loneliness? He wanted to test that theory, but it seemed like something that would be easier once he was back at the group home. Techno ate spoiled sh*t, though. He could deal with being built like a twig if he could eat actual food. Maybe.

"Anyways, you still have the first third of English before we can eat." Tubbo's voice pulled him out of his thoughts. "You're not in my English?" He vaguely knew that dyslexia made reading and sh*t harder, so was that why he was in a different class for it? "I have Chemistry third period." That was not the reason he expected. "But you know how to get to the cafeteria, so it should be easy to find me. I can wait outside of it for you, if you want." f*ck, this guy was clingy. Or maybe he was just nice and Tommy was an asshole. Both were very likely explanations. Especially since he never hung out with a 'good' kid before. It was probably just how the kids that weren't violent or bullied acted.

He didn't have a time to tell Tubbo not to wait for him before the bell was going off.

---

He found himself in the classroom first, the seats empty as the middle-aged woman shuffled something at his desk which was closer to the back of the room. "You must be Thomas. Take a seat wherever, there aren't any assigned in my class unless you misbehave." Tommy hated her already, but he forced a smile and took a seat in the middle of the room. What was that supposed to mean? He was good at pissing adults off, so he would probably end up seated near his usual delinquents at the front of the room. He knew how to navigate interactions with delinquents. Tubbo was too f*cking nice! He shot off a snide remark every now and again, but for the most part he was pretty chill and seemed actually interested in something other than himself.

"Hey Tommy! Didn't know you were in this class." He picked his head up from glaring at the table to face Nick, who seemed happy to claim the seat next to him. "Aren't you older than me?" Nick seemed older than him. Or maybe he was just one of those freshmen that got really big for no reason. "I'm bad at writing essays. And also reading homework. Plus this is the nicest teacher in the whole school, so you can basically get away with whatever." That last part was a lot more truthful. Tommy would have to see just how 'nice' this lady was. It was always great to have teachers that let you sleep in class and sh*t. Though, it wasn't going to be as great considering that he had her at lunchtime. He was definitely still tired. Plus, what were the chances of the skin monster showing up in a dream while he was in school?

"Wake me up when it's time to eat, then."

---

Apparently 'wake me up' was interpreted as 'slam a book on the desk' which was loud enough that he almost fell out of his f*cking chair from it. Honestly, why was everyone around him such a goddamn idiot? "Come on! I wanna get the good table." Nick was suddenly dragging him out of the class and through the halls, weaving around people confidently like he wasn't dragging a child around behind him. "You have no personal f*cking space." He spat, mostly because it was easier to bitch when they weren't moving. "What the honk Tommy. I'm trying to include you." Include him? Oh- Nick was dragging him to the table with a group of guys he didn't recognize for the most part.

"I was meeting someone, actually." Tommy pulled his wrist out of his grip, taking a step back. Tubbo had to be somewhere, right? A quick scan let him know that the smaller brunette was staring at him from where he was leaning against the far wall. He was suddenly aware that the feeling of being stared at so intensely continued once Tubbo focused on him again. Was... Was he the one that was doing that? What f*cking sense did that make?! "Oh, it's okay-" He cut Nick off, suddenly not wanting to go back near the guy. Was he someone like Phil or Wilbur? Or f*cking TECHNO?! "Nope. I'm sitting with you guys."

Nick didn't question his change of heart, and simply gave a shrug in response. "We should go through the line then, since our table got sent through." Tommy followed behind him from a bit of a distance through the lunch line, getting himself some sh*tty 'pizza' and an apple. "Sit between me and Karl, we're both really cool." Nick was whispering sh*t to him as they got past the lunch ladies. "I'm Karl." Tommy jumped as someone whispered from behind him, and the brunette apparantly thought it was the funny. People calling themselves 'cool' usually meant 'asshole'. But, he was good at befriending people like that. Plus being around these guys made the watched feeling go away enough that he could actually relax a bit.

"Whose this?" He hadn't even sat down yet and someone was questioning him and sh*t. He sat down and face the guy, ready to try and say something in a lackluster attempt to be friendly. But it was that George guy! "f*ck you!" Said George guy almost spit his milk on himself, his eyes widening as he choked. The guys at the table started laughing even though the one older boy was trying to make sure that George was okay. "Language." Tommy legitimately didn't realize that it was being directed at him because he hadn't been expecting it. "Oh yeah, we don't swear in front of Bad. He'll beat you up." Was Nick serious? By the panicked expression on the older guy's face, he probably wasn't.

"Don't tell him that! I'm the least violent person at this table!" Tommy wanted to be more concerned that no one was going to argue with that. "Hey, I'm not violent. I'm just tastefully pyromaniac." He had no idea what that meant, but he did know that when he looked over that Nick was holding a napkin that was f*ckING BURNING. "That's worse!" The weird anti-swear word guy was suddenly his favorite, especially once he tore the top off his bottle of water and haphazardly threw it in the direction of the growing flame. Nick seemed pretty upset that the front of him was drenched, but Tommy was going to cry from how hard he was laughing.

"I'm wet! Why'd you do that?" Nick seemed honestly surprised that the fire needed to be put out. Fire always made Tommy nervous. He set a tissue on fire one time on a dare, and it quickly got out of hand and burned him. He understood why that family sent him back so soon. Especially considering the whole he burnt in their flooring. "We agreed that there's none of that during school." George chimed in, crunching way too loud on a carrot stick. "I can't honking believe you, George." Being stuck between this Karl guy and Nick was going to wear on him.

"Please just say f*ck."

Chapter 31

Chapter Text

The rest of the day was an unfamiliar amount of regular for the most part. Tubbo ignored him in the last period of the day, but still slid into the seat beside him on the bus. "Those are trouble, Tommy." Not even a f*cking hello? Damn. "I was gonna say sorry for ditching you, ya' know." Tommy was probably going to half-ass the apology, but he was still going to try and mention it. Tubbo seemed to enjoy being near him for some reason, and my was probably sh*tty to ditch him. He didn't technically agree to meet him for lunch, so it was probably fine. "Tommy, I'm serious. Your best bet it to pay Nick back and stay away from them." God, he f*cking sounded like Techno- "Did Clay call you a queer too?"

Tubbo seemed taken back by his question, before the sorta-frown turned into a full on scowl. "He did what?" That was probably a no. Tommy still had no idea what it meant, but Wilbur seemed to think it was an insult. And Techno probably agreed since he's the one that got called it. He seemed pretty upset at the mention of the guy, so it would make sense that it was an insult. Was it a slur? Those were for races, weren't they? What race was queer? "Yeah, he seemed real upset about it." He shrugged, not sure why he was getting such an intense look. This was the same bitch who went on a rant about why there needed to be bee-safe skittles. Why was he suddenly being overly intimidating?

"You need to listen to me. It's not safe to be around those guys. You can't trust the woods, Tommy." What the f*ck was that supposed to mean? He couldn't even ask because Tubbo was suddenly getting off the bus with his older siblings.

Why did everyone keep saying scary sh*t to him?

---

"-so basically I got detention because the substitute was racist." Wilbur was ranting to Techno about his day, both of them plainly ignoring Tommy on the walk home. "So what actually happened?" Tommy was mildly interested in whatever they were talking about. Wilbur told some weird story about what happened. "You think Phil won't believe it?" He actually was lying? What the f*ck was he missing? He pulled his focus away from his brooding and actually focused on their conversation, looking between the two. "No, I don't. Phil would see right through you. Tell me what happened so we can bend the truth." Bend the f*cking truth? What the hell was he missing? It was at least a distraction from the weird sh*t Tubbo had told him.

"Fine. Basically I didn't know I had a hole in my pocket and my vape fell out. I didn't notice, but the teacher saw it before someone else picked it up. You know that Ted guy? He's one of Schlatt's, so he probably did it so it wouldn't be confiscated. Well, I pissed George off earlier and he ratted me out once the teacher asked the class who had it." Tommy didn't realize he was laughing until they stopped walking and turned around to face him. "What's so f*cking funny? It's a dab pen, Tommy." He didn't know what that meant, but Wilbur was saying it like it justified whatever he had been doing which was somehow funnier to him. "You got in trouble with the little swimmer guy over drugs?"

Wilbur was turning red in the face, and really looked like he was about to try and strangle him. "Actually, that's a good point. Why do I care?" Tommy would've kept laughing if Techno's absolute lack of loyalty wasn't mildly concerning. "You hate authority! Plus if you don't want Phil to know how the mirror broke, you're going to help me lie." Techno's blank expression had the peek of a smile starting like he was about to say something. "What do I f*cking get?" Wilbur couldn't expect him to not blab the moment he felt like it. "What- I didn't-" Wilbur actually seemed at a loss for words, sputtering like a broken car engine as he tried to articulate himself. "f*ck! Fine! I'll owe both of you." Was he f*cking serious? What kind of dumbass would accept that sh*t of an offer?

"Damn, yeah. I'll help-" The noise that Tommy made cut their conversation off. It was like a strangled cry mixed with a gasp. "That's such bullsh*t! What's that supposed to f*cking do?" Wilbur would OWE him?! That was such a cheap write off! "f*ck you! I can do so much!" Wilbur getting so upset should've been a sign that he might've needed to back off, but it was kind of funny at how mad he was. If it was a cartoon, his eyes would've been bulging and steam would've been blowing out of his ears. Hell, Wilbur looked like he was about to turn purple already. "I can owe you if you give me your favor from Wilbur." Techno was trying to barter with him over the 'favor' like it was actually important.

"f*cking- Sure! Whatever, you owe me." Tommy was sure that this entire system was a bunch of bullsh*t, but Techno would probably be able to do a lot more than Wilbur. Techno could probably deadlift a car. Wilbur was- Oh, sh*t. Wilbur could control people and had mentioned multiple times that he was friends with literally everyone in the school. Goddamnit, Techno f*cking swindled him! "Cool. Tell Phil that you got into an argument with George." The pinkette changed the subject like they weren't discussing why the beanpole bitch was apparently a delinquent. "Tell him it was because of the swim team." Techno's next statement made Tommy suddenly aware of the note burning in his pocket, the one that had supposedly been from that Eret guy(?).

"I can't bring it up, you f*cking know that. I stopped doing it for a reason, and in four more weeks I'll be taken off of the team." Tommy wasn't sure what to do with that. "What's the reason?" Wilbur gave him a startled expression, like he had forgotten that he was even standing there. His face paled, and he swung around to look over their surroundings. It was trees. No one had driven past the road since the bus had dropped them off. It was oddly silent from where they were standing, not even ten feet from the edge of the road. Wilbur was looking through the trees like he was expecting something to come out at them.

"We'll talk inside."

Chapter 32

Chapter Text

The rest of the walk to the house had been in silence. Everything was so goddamn quiet in the woods, and it was driving him insane. He was so used to the noises of the city. The background noise of cars and conversations and random fights were so familiar to him that it made him antsy to be without. That, and Wilbur kept turning his upper half around to stare at him, before turning back quickly once Tommy glanced up at him. Was he trying to be f*cking suspicious? He looked like an anemic snowman that got brought to like, like an addict Frosty. He snorted at the thought, which prompted another obnoxious stare from Will.

Tommy was the last through the door, and was fully intending to go straight into his room and dick around on the math paper he had. While he preferred to just not do his work, he had to keep his grades a bit above failing so that he didn't get extra work once he was back at the group home. He wasn't STUPID by any means. Quite the opposite, really. He was a goddamn genius in pretty much any regard. He couldn't think of a single subject he was bad in. "Tommy, come here." Wilbur sounded like a middle aged woman that was getting ready to lecture him, so he could only imagine what was going on. He backtracked down the steps and made his way over to the kitchen where Wil was.

Wilbur was looming over Techno, who had a note a credit card. "Phil's working late again. He says you need clothes and that we're supposed to take you. Just one of us can't because he said I can't match colors and Wilbur dresses like a retired art teacher." Techno's flat monotone somehow sapped all of the ridiculousness out of what he had just said. "That's bullsh*t! I'm f*cking fashionable!" Wilbur getting overly pissed about the explanation Phil had left was enough to get Tommy laughing. Honestly, he understood the man's point 100%. Wil dressed like sh*t, and he was sure that his 'outfits' would look horrible on anyone else. Techno made some weird grunt noise at the outburst, co*cking a pink eyebrow at his brother. "And I have a paper due."

"Then we should find someone to dump him on! Don't you do homework for one of those detention kids? Make Carson deal with him." He was RIGHT f*ckING THERE. "f*ck you! Why're you such a bitch?" Tommy broke his nose once, he was sure he could do it again! Why was he so f*cking infuriating? "Stop it." Techno didn't raise his voice, but his glare cut their argument off. "Think of this strategically. This reeks of guilt, and if he sees us getting along, we have a bargaining chip." Techno sounded like a f*cking psycho. Did he just say he sniffed the paper? He was too busy being angry at Wil to listen to whatever point was trying to make.

"You'd be fine going clothes shopping with the gremlin? Just for one of your weird ploys?" He was going to lose his sh*t at Wilbur. "You're right. Considered one of my favors paid." With that, Techno shoved the note and the card at Wilbur before just waltzing out of the kitchen. Wilbur's face immediately went red, and his glare went from the note to Tommy.

"Get in the f*cking car."

---

If he had to pick, Techno was a much better candidate. He was at least quiet and sh*t. Wilbur kept offhandedly saying weird sh*t to him like he was expecting a conversation to start. Eventually the radio got turned on once the older boy realized that Tommy didn't want to talk to him. The older boy seemed content to just hum along to some weird song Tommy had never heard before. "If we see anyone I know at the mall, I'm ditching you." Wilbur's entire personality made him so punchable. "No the f*ck you aren't! What if I get kidnapped? You want me to get f*cking murdered and sh*t?"

Wilbur had the nerve to just grin at him like he had told a joke. Which he DIDN'T. "You're too f*cking annoying for anyone to kidnap you." Tommy was seriously considering a fistfight despite the fact that Wilbur was literally driving. He learned from a young age that distracting the driver was bad, and he was pretty sure he could still find the scar hidden on the top of his head from when he learned it. He quickly replaced the thought, not wanting to dwell on the memory. "I'm delightful. Pedophiles and sh*t would be all over me." Wilbur let out the most horrid noise that must've been some kind of a laugh. Tommy took too long to realize what had come out of his mouth.

"Don't say that in the store."

Chapter 33

Chapter Text

He somehow managed to ignored Wilbur's humming for the rest of the ride. Honestly, why was he so loud about it. It wasn't particularly bad, and he was in tune with the song as far as he could tell. But just hearing him was pissing Tommy off. He could pretend on the louder bits that Wilbur was just part of the chorus, so it helped to tune him out. He was having issues blocking out things around him like he usually did, the comfortable static in his ears refusing to return. He wasn't sure why. It wasn't like it was one of the 'magic' things that he supposedly had. He was pretty sure that it was just from trauma.

"We're here. The mall has a couple clothing stores. Phil didn't leave me a f*cking list so just pick out clothes that won't get you detention." What did Wilbur think he preferred? He didn't wear inappropriate clothing! They were in some stuffy, bible-pushing rural sh*thole anyways. Tommy really doubted that any stores in the area would sell something bad. "You parked like sh*t." Tommy hissed, pressing himself as flat as he could so he didn't rub his ass on the poor car in the spot next to them. Wilbur had the nerve to f*cking laugh at him. "You can't even drive." He couldn't drive, but he knew that he shouldn't have less than six inches between the two cars to get out. Well, maybe that wasn't true. If it was supposed to be like that, then Wilbur was still an asshole!

"I'm only going staying near you because I'm not giving you Phil's card. So pick a store, and find me when I need to pay." Wilbur was so annoying. And freakishly tall. He was taking just as many steps as him, but he was falling behind purely because Wilbur was nothing but legs. Tommy was also pretty leggy, actually. But even he couldn't keep the guy's pace without speeding up. Tommy vaguely recognized the layout of the sh*tty little mall from when Phil had made him get all the stupid rocks. He would've preferred to avoid that store completely if he could. The weird rock and candle shop probably wasn't a clothing outlet, so he was sure that he could get away without having to acknowledge it.

"If you're not picking, I will." Apperantly Wilbur had been expecting him to decide on a store to go into, and not to just stare aimlessly at something in the distance. "You f*cking smell like old lady." It wasn't the best retort ever, but the grimace he got in response was enough to make him feel better. He wasn't sure if it was true or not, but Wilbur definitely looked like he smelled like an old woman. Maybe without the piss. Hopefully without the piss. He didn't want to know just in case he did. He didn't want to be like Techno and sniff people, either. He never noticed him doing it, but he talked about 'scents' and sh*t like he did. Maybe he would have to keep a closer eye on the pinkette.

"Are you listening to me? Go pick out shirts or some sh*t, stop standing there." They were in a store already. The static to block out noise wasn't helping him, but good old-fashioned zoning the f*ck out was. "Fine. Bitch boy." Tommy spat the insult before disappearing further into the store, putting some distance between himself and Wilbur incase there was a response. Now he just had to find clothes. Which would be easy! He just didn't have any idea what size he was. The only pair of jeans he owned he had for the last three years, and just unrolled the legs once he got taller. "You alright?" The voice that was behind him out of nowhere scared the sh*t out of him, making him almost slam into the rack of shirts he had been glaring into.

Tommy turned around, fully prepared to cuss out whoever just scared him. Only to find that it was the Minx girl who liked to beat Wilbur. Which made her his favorite of all the people Wilbur had 'introduced' him to "Yeah." f*ck, he could even tell he was lying. He sounded so pathetic. "You sure? I ditched Schlatt a bit ago, so I can help." What was he supposed to do, admit that he didn't know how to f*cking dress himself? That sounded pathetic in his head, so he could only imagine how stoic it would've been outloud. "I'm good. Thanks." He was trying to be a vague amount of polite, wanting to keep on good terms with her. He was turning to leave when she grabbed his arm, lowering her voice. Why was everyone so goddamn touchy? "I'm good at readin' people, kid. Wilbur didn't know what socks were when I met him, so don't think I'm judging."

Why was she so intent on being nice to him?

---

Apparently Minx was serious. She explained to him the difference in sizes, and even told him what colors would match better. The store was bigger than he originally thought, because they had gone pretty much everywhere without so much as a glance of Wilbur. He wasn't complaining. Minx probably didn't, either. Not if her complaining about him was anything to go on. "You're a good kid." Where the f*ck did that come from? Tommy was literally just looking for a decent hoodie he could use as a coat for himself. "Why?" He would've laughed at how sh*t of a response that would've been if he wasn't so appalled by the fact that he said it. Minx had no trouble laughing at him for it.

"Just trust me, you are. This place has a way of f*ckin' people up. There's probably some sh*t in the water." Minx seemed alright herself. She kept talking, which he was grateful for since he probably would've responded with some dumb shut anyways. "There's just some bad sh*t that happens sometimes. Like, weird sh*t. f*cks with people's heads and all that." She had to be kidding. Why was everyone f*cking weird? Was she involved with the weird magical demon sh*t that kept happening? "Yeah?" It came out as enough of a question to not seem like a stupid response. "Yeah." She seemed content to leave it at that. Minx was crude and kind of mean, but she was officially his favorite. Definitely above Wilbur and Techno, which wasn't great since he lived with both of them.

The silence that settled between them was more comfortable than awkward, which was a nice change of pace from what he was used to. It was interrupted by some kind of yelling from somewhere nearby. Tommy could vaguely recognize Wilbur's bitching. He was happy that Minx went first despite the fact that he was pretty sure that he looked like he was hiding behind her. Sure enough, it was Wilbur. And the weird Schlatt guy. The one that Tubbo had told him was a drug dealer. "Then maybe you should suck less! I don't owe you anything!" They seemed oblivious to the scene they were causing. Which might've been from the distinct lack of other people in the store.

Everything was always so f*cking empty. It was honestly a miracle that anything managed to stay open in the first place. It definitely wasn't the weirdest thing, though. "I can't have Friday detention! I have a gathering for after the game!" Schlatt dressed weird. Who wore hiking boots to go to the mall? Who wore f*cking gold to go to the mall?! Tommy might've just been surrounded by a sh*t area whenever he was in the group home, but flashy jewelry was a good way to get robbed. Or stabbed. Or stabbed and then robbed. "I can't do it right now anyways!" Wilbur spat, looming over Schlatt. He wasn't much taller, and could probably be shoved over quite easily. Schlatt's eyes went wide, though.

"Really? Why'd you get grounded?" Apparently it wasn't from fear or anything resembling it. "Yeah Wil. Why'd you get grounded?" Minx finally spoke up, smirking like she knew something. Tommy probably didn't radiate the same air of self assurance since he was holding an armful of clothes while glancing between everyone. Why did everyone else have their sh*t together? "I was saying sh*t to Tommy. Who doesn't know anything." Wilbur was visibly clenching his teeth, and looked like he was about to crack them from how tight his expression was. "That's bullsh*t, Wil. You just haven't explained anything to the poor because you're a f*ckin' prude." Minx was so cool.

"He doesn't- It's not- f*ck you guys!" Wilbur raised his voice again while making a show of throwing his hands up. He stomped over to where Tommy was, and he wondered for a moment if he was going to get punched in the mouth. The older boy just took the clothes from him and shot another glare at his friends(?). "I'll go pay. You guys explain sh*t to him since you're so f*cking smart." With that, Wilbur took his pouting further into the store. Both Schlatt and Minx seemed amuse by the display. "What's there to explain? He acts like it's not an easy concept to grasp." Schlatt seemed content to talk like Tommy just wasn't there.

"Yeah. Especially since he just admitted to doing his mind-control sh*t to Tommy. At least explain something to the poor kid." Why were they talking like he wasn't right there? "Then f*cking explain it to me." He didn't mean for it to come out as mean as it did, but he didn't really feel bad about it. "Damn, Phil really knows how to pick 'em." Schlatt was apparently more like Wilbur, with his head up his ass. Why mention explaining something to him if he wasn't going to explain anything to him? "f*ck you. You could've just said that we can't say some sh*t because we're not on safe ground." What the f*ck was that supposed to mean? It sounded like something was going to f*cking attack them.

"There isn't safe ground, Minx. Tommy, everyone's weird and the woods are alive. See? Now he knows." Schlatt seemed pretty sure of himself, like he was some master f*cking teacher.

No, Tommy did NOT f*cking know.

Chapter 34

Chapter Text

Apparently Schlatt's solution to freaking him the f*ck out was to buy him a cheap pretzel dog from the weird stand in the middle of the mall. It somehow tasted different from the one Phil had gotten him when they bought notebooks and sh*t. He wasn't sure why, but it definitely wasn't in a bad way. "So, you like Wilbur?" What the f*ck was that supposed to mean? "No." Tommy grumbled before stuffing his face, not wanting to elaborate. His first interaction with the guy was being insulted, and it hadn't really evolved from there. "He's probably pissy that you don't. His whole thing is being popular." Schlatt didn't elaborate, instead following the statement with an obnoxious slurp from his drink. "I can tell you sh*t, ya' know. I'm above the law."

What the f*ck was that supposed to mean?! Goddamnit, it was like this guy was trying to freak him the f*ck out. "Okay, big man. Tell me what was in the mirror." Tommy was sure that he could get this guy to shut up if he pulled some overly weird sh*t. "You gonna elaborate or do you think I'm a f*cking mind reader?" Schlatt seemed mildly disinterested, but Tommy knew better. He could read people well enough that he could see how the guy was staring at him out of the corner of his eyes. His eyebrow was raised in a question and he was pretty still despite having been readjusting himself periodically just moments ago.

"There was this f*cking thing in the mirror." As he stared speaking, the feeling from school came back. Something felt like it was staring holes into the back of his skull. "Damn. You're pretty high profile, kid." Tommy made a face, finishing the pretzel dog to avoid responding. "You feel that watching? Need to get yourself a patron." What the f*ck was he talking about? Someone was suddenly behind him, a cold grip on his shoulder. "Don't tell him that sh*t! Don't listen to him, and don't do anything he f*cking suggests Tommy." Wilbur was f*cking shaking, the fingers digging into his shoulder really hurting. He was sure that his shoulder blade was going to snap.

"Calm down, Wilbur. Maybe you should keep a better eye on him. Don't shoot the messenger, after all." Schlatt was suddenly standing, looming over him to lean in close to Wilbur. The grip somehow tightened more, and Tommy was terrified as adrenaline quickly quelled the pain. "Don't try to bring him into your bullsh*t." Wilbur sounded like he was about to spit in his 'friend's face. A weird egg and smoke smell burned Tommy's nose and throat as he was barely an inch from Schlatt who had somehow managed to get further into the brunettes face.

"We're not the only ones watching."

---

Minx had come out of nowhere and literally dragged Schlatt off of them both, and the smell was still in his throat by the time he was in the passenger seat of the car. Wilbur had quite literally thrown the bags into the bag of the car where they spilled from the impact. Tommy's shoulder was burning, and his entire arm burned when he moved it. Did Wilbur break his f*cking shoulder? "You have to be careful around Schlatt, Tommy." The blond jerked away from the voice, the cold tone different from the angry one he had heard earlier. "Why?" He didn't like how scared he sounded. He f*cking hurt and he was tired and he felt like puking and everything still smelled like the egg and smoke stench.

"He's f*cking bipolar. Or it's split personality. He gets dangerous." Wilbur was lying. The same bitch who almost broke his f*cking shoulder and had his weird egg friend maybe-threaten him had the nerve to lie. "Why can't anyone just tell me what's happening! Do you think I'm that f*cking stupid!?" He wasn't sure why he was yelling. His eyes were burning in a way he refused to acknowledge. The adrenaline must've faded from Schlatt and Wilbur's pissing match earlier, because he was trembling. "Are you crying?" Wilbur spat, making Tommy press himself against the seat and into the door as much as he could. f*ck, this was it. He had somehow convinced himself that no one from his 'new home' would beat the sh*t out of him, yet here he was.

"f*ck, you are." The tone was a lot softer, and Tommy wasn't expecting it. His vision was blurry, and he was keeping his eyes open to try and will the tears to evaporate. He hurt so f*cking much. Wilbur looked like he was nothing but skin and bones, and he probably broke his shoulder with nothing but his grip. Tommy physically bit his tongue to stop himself from spouting something off like he normally did. That, and to choke back what was definitely NOT a pained sob. There was suddenly a hand gripped his chin, and Wilbur was staring intensely into his face. He tried to pull back, but suddenly his ears were ringing with his voice.

"Go to sleep, Tommy."

---

Tommy jerked awake, shooting upright. He looked around fanatically, trying to remember where the f*ck he was. Why was he on the couch? He hurt so f*cking bad- "You're hurt." He jerked away from the voice, not having noticed the figure looming at the end of the couch. It was Techno, staring down at him with the same intensity he had when he had burned his sh*t. "Yeah." What the f*ck was he supposed to say? His throat burned like he had been suffocated by smoke, and his mouth was dry with the taste of salt and that f*cking egg sh*t he couldn't identify. "I can smell it on you." Why couldn't get just get a f*cking break? Wilbur breaks his arm or whatever, then he passes out, and Techno was sniffing him in his f*ckING sleep.

"Wilbur pulled in and passed out once he saw his nose was bleeding. Why'd he crack your shoulder blade?" Is that what was wrong? He'd f*cking believe it. His throat was tight and the gaze boring into his skull made him feel like he was in danger. Tommy wanted to curl up in a hole and f*cking die. Why was everything closing in around him? The pain and fear was making him nauseous as he tried to articulate himself. He couldn't. The gaze alone had him pinned like a scared mouse underneath a cat. "I'm pissed and you can't talk." Techno's monotone was the same dead drawl that it always was, and he said it so matter-of-factly.

Tommy wanted to say something, maybe to scream. Maybe to cry. "I'm going to go get the tea, and if you're blue by the time I get back I guess I'll call Phil." He sounded like he was talking to himself, his eyes practically glowing in the most horrific way. He heard him, but none of the words were processing. It took too long to realize what Techno had meant, his brain only catching up once he had disappeared from sight. His lungs burned, and his throat was still tight.

He was not in fact breathing.

Chapter 35

Chapter Text

Tommy wasn't sure how long he sat there, trying to force himself to inhale. The spots forming in his vision had him convinced that he was about to f*cking die. Which seemed like a pretty reasonable assessment, all things considered. What a stupid f*cking way to die. He stopped breathing? He knew how to breathe! He did it all the f*cking time! The sheer stupidity of the situation had a choked laugh escape his tight throat.

Which apparently knocked what remaining oxygen he had in him out considering he passed out soon after.

---

"Tommy? Tommy, holy sh*t dude." He didn't have to open his eyes to recognize the voice looming over him. He did open his eyes once his shoulders were grabbed, the light grip sending violent stabs of pain down his injured side. His eyes shot open as he screamed, his throat burning still and his senses still clogged from the f*cking egg smoke. His eyes were watering but the time Phil let go of him, his eyes wide. "You're hurt? f*ck, the bone's broken! What the f*ck happened?" Tommy didn't know if Phil knew he was getting louder, but he was definitely considering running the f*ck away from him because of it. At the very least, he was trying to make himself smaller as he tried to ignore the feeling of tears burning his eyes.

Phil seemed to notice after a few moments, his VERY loud questioning dying in his throat as he just stared through him. Tommy wanted to puke. Maybe the taste of bile and whatever was left in his stomach would get rid of the stench that still clung to him. It definitely wasn't helping with the oppressive fog that was settled over him. f*ck, he felt like sh*t. Was he sobbing? Now he just had a new thing to be upset about. He was crying like a bitch in front of Phil, who already treated him too nice. The exhaustion he felt from being 'cared for' was catching up to him, and he hated to admit that the tears had been building for a while. He usually could muster the decency to break down in private, away from stares of pity and disgust.

He wasn't expecting to suddenly be wrapped up in an unfamiliar warmth, a comforting weight grounding him as he broke the f*ck down. Phil was warm and there was a pleasant buzzing resonating around his skull, quieting the headache that was already forming behind his eyes. Everything was f*cking horrible and he felt like sh*t. Tommy was also remembering how he knocked himself the f*ck out, which made him feel worse considering how STUPID it had been. He couldn't manage to form a response since all of his attention was put towards breathing. f*ck, he was so goddamn pathetic. Why was he crying HARDER?!

How much worse was tonight going to get?

Chapter 36

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Tommy wasn't sure how long he cried. Honestly, he didn't want to know. The answer would've been longer than he would've liked, anyways. He felt like such a helpless little kid, crying in the arm of his 'father'. The title still brought a sour taste to his mouth. Phil wasn't really his family. Techno wasn't, either. Wilbur DEFINITELY f*cking wasn't considering he seemed perfectly okay with snapping people's bones and sh*t. Tommy didn't even have the energy to be mad at him, let alone afraid. Once the tears had stopped flowing, he felt tired. And empty. It was like he had somehow cried all of the water and engery out of him all in one go. He had no idea what being dehydrated felt like. He was probably going to find out with how he was going.

The tears eventually stopped, and he was mostly trying to suppress the choked noises escaping him. Which didn't really matter. He already embarrassed the f*ck out of himself, so what was a few more horrible noises? He managed to calm himself enough to get a few steady breaths in, only for the occasional hiccup to rattle out of him obnoxiously loud. f*ck, he couldn't even CRY right. He sniffed, trying to clear some of the mucus out of his nose since he was NOT going to wipe his face on Phil. The sickening gurgle of snot seemed to startle the older man, who dropped his hold mostly. Tommy wouldn't admit it, but the warmth leaving him made something inside him ache.

A roll of paper towels were being shoved into his face suddenly, making what little bit of his brain was left running short circuit. Why did Phil just shove a whole ass roll of Bounty in his face? "We don't have tissues because of Techno, but you should still blow your nose." He normally would've bothered being upset by some weird comment like that, but he was too busy being horrifically tired. What, did Techno eat f*cking tissues? That wouldn't be the worst thing he found out even in the past three hour- Actually, how long had he been knocked out? He barely remembered the car ride home, which was probably because he had been f*ckING UNCONSCIOUS. Then he was knocked out a SECOND time?! That's how people got f*cking brain damage! Probably.

He tore one off and blew his nose, trying to clear his sinuses as much as possibly. When he pulled away, he found that he could actually breathe through his nose. Phil made a face at him, but didn't say anything. Instead, there was what looked like a waste paper basket being offered. Tommy was much too tired and sad to be an asshole, so he obliged and tossed it into the bin. "So, feeling better?" He wanted to respond. He really did. He was to scream and maybe get slapped just so the familiar sting could help him ground himself. He took too long to realize that the air seemed fresher, only the scent of vanilla and honey lingering on him from whatever weird old-man soap Phil used. Vanilla and honey and NOT the smoke eggs.

Had something been stuck to him? Phil probably just wiped whatever it was off, right? He knew firsthand that the stench of cigarette smoke could cling to the inside of hid nose, so it was probably just from the wave of snot flushing him out. Which was equal parts gross and effective. Tommy snorted again, the pressure settling in his head as he finally calmed down enough to stop the stupid post-sob hiccup noises. Phil really didn't look like he cared too much. Which was weird and unsettling. He was just staring at him intensely, like he was looking for something. "You think you could keep liquids down?"

Tommy just gave a lackluster shrug, not trusting himself to speak. He already embarrassed himself enough. He really didn't want to see how much more he could f*ck up. God, he was such a f*cking idiot. He was actually amazed at how little time it took him to break the f*ck down. It usually took a WEEK, and even then he could bury it for days on end. Maybe it was because of all of the weird sh*t going on. He apparently stabbed someone to death, learned about 'magic', and had over three thousand dollars spent on him and it hadn't even been a WEEK. Not to mention the f*cking mirror creature! He was used to dealing with crazy and abusive households, but apperantly his limit was with magic voodoo demon-y sh*t.

"I'll go get you some of the tea. You stay here, alright?" Where the f*ck was he going to go? He was tired, lacking probably every ounce of fluid in his body, and also couldn't drive. If he went to bed or something, it wasn't like Phil couldn't FIND him. The man was suddenly replaced with Techno as soon as he moved away. He didn't say anything, but why would Tommy expect him to? The silence was good for the headache he had going, at least. Techno was sipping at another one of his juice boxes, which he could vaguely make out at being coconut-something. It could be coconut and gasoline for all he cared. What was it going to do? Kill him? A dry laugh left him from the stupid comment he made to himself, burning his sore throat and making him all the more aware of how dry his mouth was.

It was kinda funny how shocked Techno seemed to be by the sudden noise. He could probably flip the couch with Tommy on it, and yet the simple chuckle had him looking like he was being held at gunpoint. He had pretty much peiced together how sh*t this guy's social skills were, and it was ironic how easy it was to catch him off guard. What was Techno going to do in a fight if he got nervous as soon as someone looked at him too long? It also seemed to somehow make him the calmest member of the weird little household he was trapped in. Like that movie with the girl and the buttons eyes. Carol? He was like that f*cking Carol girl without the cat.

Techno made some weird noise that was probably supposed to be something before he was walking away too quickly. Tommy could read him like a f*cking book. It was weird seeing how genuinely nervous he was, especially after he had witnessed firsthand how terrifying the guy could be. It was weird how he already knew both sides of the guy. He had no idea what the f*ck was up with Wilbur, though. He probably had one of those disorders where he was like seven different people. It would make more sense than him just ACTING like that. He was zoning out too hard, not noticing Phil's return until there was a cup being shoved into his hands. He went to take a sip until the straw he didn't know about jabbed him in the f*cking eye.

If he wasn't too tired to start a fight, the bitch would've been getting chewed out. Tommy wasn't all that intimidating, but he was loud and mean. "sh*t- Sorry dude. You were shaking pretty bad, so I though a straw would be safer." And there he went with the stupid motherly tone that was supposed to make him think Phil actually cared about him. Tommy brought the straw to his lips without saying anything, ignoring how obvious his shaky fingers were. "So, what happened? You don't have to tell me right now, but I'll need an answer eventually. I don't want you getting hurt again." Tommy snorted at that, trying to inhale the weird liquid as fast as he could so he could make an excuse up to go somewhere else. Maybe he could hide in his room and lock the door for a few hours for some peace. Or a few days.

"Why?" He couldn't hide the bitterness in his tone. He was far too drained to try and put up a charismatic persona like he usually managed. Phil got to see firsthand just how horrible and mean he really was. He usually preferred to not think of himself like that, shoving it into the back of his mind until he felt like worrying over it as a later date.

"Because I care, Tommy."

Chapter 37

Chapter Text

Tommy wasn't sure how long they stared at each other. What he did know is that he didn't believe Phil. He didn't sound like he was lying, but it just felt WRONG to assume that he was telling the truth. Why would he? Saying something like that would be the easiest method of calming him down. Which was smart. Phil was just acting rationally. Why did that make him feel worse? Phil's gaze was still burning into him even as the headache faded. The throbbing from his shoulder even dulled, and he could even feel the sore tissue around the cracked bone stop it's throbbing. "Tommy, I'm not upset. I just want to make sure you don't get hurt again." Why was Phil still acting all nice to him and sh*t?

"It was your f*cking son." He spat, ignoring how wobbly his tone was. He sounded like he was on the verge of crying again. On the plus side, the stupid piss liquid seemed to have fixed his raw throat. "What?" Was Phil really going to play this f*cking game? He was going to claim that he gave a sh*t and then act like he didn't know that Wilbur was a f*cking psycho?! Tommy took a moment to remember that Phil did have two kids. And to be fair, he was even surprised that it wasn't Techno that had snapped him like a twig. Wilbur's fingers looked like they would snap off his hands if they got caught in too strong of a wind, and they were the same ones that cracked his f*ckING BONES so effortlessly. Which was mildly terrifying. But another reason to be upset.

"Wilbur." Tommy was clenching his teeth hard enough that his jaw hurt even with the magic tea liquid in his system. Hopefully it worked on cracked teeth, because he was sure that he was going to split something if he didn't calm down. "Wilbur? He's... What happened? To-" Phil made a weird gesture, but got the point across. He probably didn't mean it like that, but Tommy was quick to scoff. "What I do to piss him off, you mean?" He didn't bother trying to keep the bitterness out of his tone. The more spiteful he sounded, the less his voice seemed to quiver. He preferred to come off as an asshole rather than some scared little bitch that cried every time he was upset.

"No! Tommy, I'm not blaming you!" Phil's voice was getting louder, but it was the type of loud that was empty. Desperate, even. Especially since it lacked the usual anger that come with someone raising their volume during a 'disagreement'. "Then who are you blaming!?" Tommy was considering getting to his feet, knowing that the few inches he had on the guy would make him feel much safer yelling back at him. While Phil's tone lacked any malice, his was the exact opposite. Tommy felt better shouting. It was familiar to him, and made him feel bigger even though he was curled in on himself on the couch. He was good at yelling.

"Myself! I should've put work off! You guy's don't f*cking get along and I shouldn't have expected a miracle!" Phil's tone was soon matching his in volume. He sincerely looked like he was still trying to keep his composure, but the look in his eyes gave it away. Tommy was pissing him off. After the hours of trying to find a weak point, he just had to insult Phil's decision making skills. Or lack thereof. It was a sh*tty thing to do, especially considering how upset the guy clearly was over it. It was obvious that he blamed himself. But maybe he should. "If you feel so f*cking bad, maybe you shouldn't be hiding sh*t from me! You expect me to play along with your family bullsh*t, and then send me off into the living woods!"

Phil's eyes burned in a way Tommy was used to. There was the look of 'I'm going to get hit'. f*ck, it would be so easy to be sent back. He could go back to his sh*tty little room and hide away from all these weird f*ckers that seemed so intent on ruining any sense of normalcy in his life. "I can't tell you everything! You're already a f*cking target! I'm trying to keep you safe from what's out there while you adjust!" Phil looked genuinely upset, and Tommy didn't understand why it was making him so happy. Phil SHOULD be upset. His kids were weird and mean, and the house was just a fake f*cking security blanket that seemed to block out the fact that none of them belonged in society. Tommy could at least ACT normal. Techno didn't even try! That bitch was pink!

"How am I supposed to be safe when I don't know sh*t, Phil?! How am I supposed to be safe when I'm stuck in a house of magic FREAKS with no way to defend myself!" Tommy felt the anger bubbling up, burning his throat as he got louder and louder. "How am I supposed to be f*ckING safe when you guys hurt me worse than whatever the f*ck's out there!" He wasn't even questioning at that point. It was coming out as angry statements, worded and presented like threats. f*ck, he was SO pissed. The headache was back and he was buzzing like he did when he got too pissed off. He prided himself on being a pretty child guy, but come THE f*ck on. Phil wanted to keep him safe?! He basically did the f*cking opposite!

"Tommy, I-" He cut the man off, his blood still boiling with rage. He was so PISSED. It felt really good to be pissed off and seething with rage instead of the helpless bullsh*t from earlier. Now that he had cried himself out, he didn't have to worry about breaking down and sobbing in the middle of the screaming match. Which might've happened once or twice before. The thought just upset him more. Phil's look of PITY. Even now, he wasn't actually yelling. Hell, he was holding back even as Tommy screamed at him. What was the f*cking point of staying calm? Why was it MORE upsetting that Phil wasn't responding to him like he should've been.

"NO! Don't talk to me like that! I'm not your f*cking kid! You're not my f*cking dad! You're a STRANGER! Your psycho f*cking kids are STRANGERS!" Again with the f*cking pity look! Phil kept looking at him like he was some homeless puppy with a broken f*cking leg! Why the f*ck couldn't he just get pissed back! "TOMMY!" His screaming was cut off by Phil finally rising to his volume, his eyes darkening. Tommy went to spout something off in response, feeling triumphant that he got the guy to lower himself down to the level of some sh*tty teenager. He couldn't speak, though. It wasn't like before with Techno, where he was paralyzed with fear. The overwhelming sense of how he WASN'T ALLOWED to speak made the words die in his throat without a second thought.

"I know you're upset. I don't know if you understand it, but I know what you're feeling. But I'm not going to f*cking hit you! I'm upset because you keep feeling guilty that I'm not ABUSING you! And I don't know what to do to make it better!" Phil's yelling was a lot more mild as he continued, his expression still dark as he found something else to look at while he yelled. Was that supposed to make him feel BETTER!? Phil said he couldn't read minds! And why did he care if Tommy was trying to get hit so he could be sent back?! That wasn't any of his f*cking business! He knew for a FACT that none of the people who treated foster brats like that got in trouble. It was the whole reason they did it. He tried to bitch again, only for the same oppressive weight to hold his mouth shut.

"I'm not going to f*cking hit you Tommy! It's bad enough that you're so used to it, but you shouldn't f*cking EXPECT it! It's not okay! YOU'RE A f*ckING PERSON!" That caught him off guard a lot more than it probably should've. Of all the things he had someone shout at him, THAT wasn't one of them. Phil looked like he ran out of things to shout about, but was clearly still upset. "f*ck you." Tommy couldn't think hard enough to form an actual response after that. He wasn't expected to be laughed at. "Tommy, you're not in trouble. I'm not going to hurt you. I just need you to work with me a bit. I'll talk to Wilbur. It'll give you some time to calm down, and we can talk then."

Tommy couldn't do much besides stare at his back as he walked away.

Chapter 38

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Tommy couldn't do much else besides stare at the spot where Phil had been standing. His head was still spinning, and he was still feeling the residual shaking that came from working himself up. Now that his nose was cleared of the wretched egg stench, he found it a lot easier to calm down. Besides the 'tea' to help his shoulder, he was still pretty thirsty. Deciding to focus on one problem at a time, he found himself wandering into the kitchen. Techno was at the sink and made a noise of acknowledgment as he passed. He assumed the guy was doing dishes at first, so he ignored the odd scraping noise in favor of digging a bottle of water out of the fridge. The discomfort forming in his temple from inhaling the cold liquid was refreshing. Cold headaches were much more tolerable than crying headaches.

He had to pass by the pinkette to get to the garbage, so he got a better view of what the f*ck he had ACTUALLY been doing. Techno had what looked like an assortment of kitchen knives spread over the counter, and he had been dragging them over some weird block. "You wanna help?" Techno's voice was flat even as he dragged a giant f*cking butcher's knife over what looked like a rock. The noise it made while sliding over reminded him of the noise ceramic made when it ground together. A sound he didn't like. Tommy made a face at the offer. f*ck, how was this guy the calm one?

He didn't bother answering before heading to his room.

---

Tommy wasn't sure why he locked his door. The sun was still high enough in the sky that sleeping didn't make sense, but he couldn't find himself doing much more than lounging under the blankets. He was that stupid kind of exhausted that wouldn't let him pass out like he wanted. And yet he was too tired to find something to busy himself. His moping was interrupted by what sounded like glass shattering. He could recognize the noise of dishes shattering against the wall. He wasn't particularly interested in whatever the f*ck was going on downstairs until suddenly there was a pounding on his door. "Unlock the door or I'll smash it." What the f*ck did Techno want?

He wasn't in the mood to see if the guy was kidding, so he begrudgingly got up in order to flip the lock. Techno apparently wasn't kidding, seeing as he had been bracing himself to do what probably would've been bashing his shoulder into the door. He watched as the older boy straightened his posture, avoiding eye contact and fiddling with his sleeve like he wasn't just about to demolish a f*cking door. It wasn't a light door either, like the cheap ones he was used to. It was like an inch thick! "We need to-" Whatever he was being told was cut off by what sounded like a shriek. He didn't hear much more of it since there were hands being clamped over his ears.

Techno quite literally dragged him by his head down the stairs, shifting his position to shove Tommy's head into his side as he reached for something. Once they were out on the porch he attempted to shove himself away. Which was pretty fruitless seeing as Techno was a goddamn meat wall. He eventually managed to wriggle away once the guy felt like letting him go, and he immediately heard more shouting. It sounded like Phil? There was another smashing noise, which was easy to decipher even after the distance muffled. "The f*ck is that?" Was Phil- sh*t. Did he piss Phil off so he was beating the sh*t out of Wilbur? He was suddenly very, very nauseous.

"Wilbur's having a fit. Got one of the knives." Tommy stared at him for a bit, waiting for his brain to catch up to his ears. "He f*cking WHAT?" As if to punctuate his shock, there was the sound of something very loud hitting the ground inside. It could've been a table or a maybe a chair? f*ck, it could he Phil with a knife in his goddamn chest! "He went downstairs since he heard the yelling from his room. Grabbed a knife off the counter." As if to try and help explain, Techno rolled his sleeve up to show where there was a gash in the back of his hand. He stared at the wound, watching it knit itself together like some kind of timelapse video. "You sayin' he f*cking stabbed you?"

The nod he got made him feel sick in a completely different way. He had just been worried about Wilbur only to find out that the guy was actually f*cking insane. "Is he gonna' stab Phil?" Why was Techno so f*cking calm about this! There was a knife wielding crackhead breaking sh*t in there! "Probably. Brought you out so he didn't stab you." f*ck, was this a normal occurrence?! The magic kind of crazy sh*t going on was bad enough, he didn't need to worry about Wilbur shanking him. Techno jingled the keys he had, snapping Tommy out of his thoughts. "I was actually gonna' offer to drive somewhere so you don't have-" There was another visceral shriek, and it made his ears hurt like he had been spinning.

How the f*ck was Techno turning out to be the normal one?

Chapter 39

Chapter Text

Techno didn't drive like Wilbur. Tommy's knuckles were burning from the strain of how hard he was gripping the seatbelt. The maniac just SLAMMED THE BREAKS instead of slowing down, and Tommy would've bounced his face off of the dashboard if he wasn't pressing himself back into the seat so goddamn hard. "We're here." He wasn't sure when he had closed his eyes, but he had to open them to take in his surroundings. He'd been driven by drunk people who road smoother, for f*ck's sake! "What the f*ck is Berry's?" His voice was a lot steadier than his hands were. It took a few too many tries to unbuckle himself, which made his cheeks burn in embarrassment as he realized that Techno was just staring at him. What a f*cking creep.

"Icecream." Was as much of an answer as he got. Tommy had never seen a 'shop' like it before. It was some weird little shed that looked like something you would see next to a public pool, with an area with some benches and sh*t. The woods swallowed it on each side, like a mouth ready to close. Everything was f*cking woods. "Wilbur's probably stabbing Phil to f*cking death, and you took me for icecream?" Was this guy serious? "We could go back and see if Wilbur still has the knife." His mouth was suddenly much drier than before, and quickly weighed his options. Icecream was much better than getting stabbed in the throat or some sh*t.

"I'm good with icecream."

---

Tommy wasn't sure if the lady had heard him right. He asked for a SCOOP of the mint chip, and his cone looked like someone tried (and succeeded) in balancing a pint on it. Techno got a burger and fries, which he didn't particularly care about. Once the pinkette had stood and walked away to get his order from the window, another car pulled up before a group of guys quite literally tumbled out. He was surprised that none of them went on their face since they seemed to be shoving and kicking each other out of the car. It would've been funnier if he wasn't trying to deal with the pound of f*cking icecream that was seconds away from dripping and getting all sticky.

There was suddenly a bowl with a spoon tossed in front of him, and Techno took a seat across from him. If he noticed the gaggle of asshats that were obnoxiously loud, he was plainly ignoring them. "You can't bring it up to Wilbur once we get back. If he isn't asleep, I mean." Tommy made a face as he shoved the cone upside into the bowl, jabbing it with his spoon before acknowledging the guy. "I'm just not supposed to bring it up? Am I supposed to pretend he didn't break my shoulder either?" He was being sarcastic, but Techno just nodded in response like he liked the idea. "Are you f*cking serious?"

Tommy got to watch the guy wolf down the burger the size of his face before he responded, taking an obnoxiously long time to crumple the foil. "Wilbur has some issues." What a f*ckING understatement. "No sh*t! He's f*cking insane!" He didn't mean to raise his voice, but what the f*ck was this guy on? Just because Phil gave him the magic jungle juice concoction and he was feeling better, it didn't mean that it didn't happen. He had every right to be pissed off over it. "Yes he is. Now tell me what set him off." His tone made Tommy painfully aware of how powerless he was in the situation. Techno could plainly murder him and leave his body in the woods, and he was pretty sure that the trees didn't come with payphones. Not that he had the quarters to use one anyways.

"I don't know! He went to pay for sh*t and Schlatt dragged me away and started saying weird sh*t. He got all weird and sh*t and then Wilbur, like, pissed himself and hurt me." It sounded stupid saying it outloud. Schlatt might've been weird and eggy, but he wasn't the one who ran around snapping bones and sh*t. "What do you mean weird?" Techno sounded uninterested, but Tommy knew better. He was being picked apart for any signs of dishonesty. Which he didn't get, because he didn't really have a reason to lie. It was quite the opposite, really. Bitching about Wilbur going feral made him feel better even if it didn't fix the fact that he had been the victim of it. Well, Phil was probably getting the short end of the stick at the moment.

"I don't- I think he sh*t himself?" The memory was suddenly eluding him, the only distinction being the scent burned into his mind with painful clarity. He got a snort in response, and he catch what might've been the twitch of a smile forming. "I'm serious, Tommy." He was so serious he was inhaling fries and playing on his phone? f*ck this guy. "I am too! He smelled like eggs and sh*t." He wasn't sure WHY Schlatt would up and sh*t himself in the middle of the mall, but it made the most sense with his gaps in the memory. "I think he also said something about his parent?" That sounded about right. f*ck, did he get hit by something? Knowing that he pulled knives and did sh*t like breaking bones, he didn't put it past Wilbur to concuss him.

"So you're saying he talked about his dad, sh*t his pants, and then Wilbur broke your shoulder?" Techno looked just as dead as Tommy felt. "I mean, yeah. The f*ck else do you want from me? The egg-sh*t smell made me sick for a bit, I guess?" He was sure that he wasn't being any help. He somehow managed to be more irritating when he WASN'T trying. What did this guy f*cking expect, though? He was some kid dealing with a bunch of crazy motherf*ckers. "I didn't smell anything on you." So Techno was sniffing him again. Again, whatever the f*ck the beefy scene emo did was a lot more manageable than Wilbur. Somehow Wilbur managed to make someone who looked like an anime protagonist from a vampire highschool look normal.

"Maybe you shouldn't be sniffing me." Tommy hissed, jabbing at the cone hard enough to crack a hole through it. The crunch was louder than he intended. "I can smell you if you're within thirty feet of me, Tommy." He picked his head up from that, putting his moping on hold. "Like a dog?" Techno making a face at him didn't make sense until he realized that he basically just called the guy a f*cking dog. "I guess." He didn't feel as bad considering he was being agreed with. It was a good f*cking comparison! Imaging Techno as some kind of weird fighting dog that somehow got dyed pink made it a lot easier to talk sh*t about him in his head. And maybe outloud.

"You said it was that Schlatt guy? Do you mean you smelled sulfur?" What the f*ck was sulphur? "I don't f*cking know." Tommy grumbled, still not eating. Techno took a break from inhaling fries to give him a weird look that he didn't understand. "I'm sure Phil has some stashed away. It's pretty distinct."

Tommy wasn't too keen on sniffing random sh*t Techno handed him.

Chapter 40

Chapter Text

"Tommy? It's Tommy!" Was about as much of a warning as the boy got before someone was suddenly hanging off of him, and a quick look over let him know that it was exactly who he thought it was. "Hey Nick." He grumbled, not exactly sure why he was being latched on to. "Wanna ditch and hang with us? We're gonna-" Whatever he had been saying died in his throat, and Tommy didn't realize why until he followed the guy's gaze. Nick was staring at Techno, who seemed to be staring back with a lot more intensity than needed. "You know him?" Techno's usually flat tone had something... unsettling underneath. Tommy was suddenly aware of how Nick's grip across his shoulder stiffened.

"Yeah, we met at school. Bribed me into joining cross country." Tommy wasn't so sure why the loud f*ck was suddenly holding his tongue, so he responded for him. The tension in the air was cut off as more people joined at their table, leaving a noticable space between themselves and Techno. There was a collective jumble of greetings that bled into each other, and Tommy was suddenly aware that Clay was on his other side because of the obnoxious slurp on whatever monstrosity of a milkshake that was GREEN. "Yeah, did you tell Phil yet? I can get you a form-" Clay was suddenly talking, hanging on his other side.

"He's not going to." The cold voice from across the table cut all of the other conversation off. Tommy made a face, not sure why Techno looked like he was about to come over the table at them. "I never said that." He added. He knew why he SHOULDN'T have, but he didn't explicitly agree to anything. He was still reeling from the fact that Wilbur was apparently trying to stab Phil to death and he was sitting with a bowl of icecream without any way to stay updated. Phil could be f*cking dead for all he knew. He had some bad experiences with his foster parents in the past, but he never had someone f*cking DIE on him. At least he would be able to ditch the new wardrobe on them. He wouldn't get the chance to wear that one sweat Minx picked out for him though...

"You can't talk for him, dude." Clay seemed pretty casual, his presence a lot more firm against his side than Nick's. George was just staring between them, his silence probably from the fact that he was closer to Techno. He didn't see that Karl guy, either. "Mis amigos! Quien es esto joder?" Was suddenly called out before anything else was said. Some guy in a jacket and a beanie threw an arm around Techno's shoulders, seemingly throwing his weight into it. Everything seemed to happen in slow motion, especially with how fast the f*cker moved. Tommy was pretty sure he had just blinked before the guy was suddenly shoved back, stumbling over himself before landing on his ass.

"The f*ck! I don't know you, asshole!" The guy on the ground shouted, and the hesitation across the table was thick enough to be suffocating. Techno peeled himself from the table calmly, and seemingly crouched for something. Tommy couldn't see a lot of it, but he couldn't get up because Nick AND Clay were holding him in place. What, did they think he was gonna run? He was going to try and wrench himself out of their grip, though. Being pinned between two guys built like brick walls made him feel safer. Why couldn't anyone else take him the f*ck home? It was calmer at that place that turned out to be a meth lab, for f*cks sake. Clay giving off an air of older-brother-ness combined with the heat from Nick was somehow making it easier to stay calm during whatever the f*ck was going on.

"I don't need your f*cking help!" The guy on the floor shrieked, and Tommy could piece together what the splashing sound was. Especially once Techno was on his feet and facing the table again, soaking wet with what was probably whatever brand of soda the floor man had been drinking. "Napkin?" George chimed in, holding up the stack he had apparently accumulated. The look he got made him flinch in a way that would've been comical if Techno didn't look like he was about ready to murder everyone within his reach. The suffocating air of rage was suddenly clogging his senses, and he could feel his heart beating too fast like it had when he woke up on the couch.

Techno peeled off his sweatshirt, the white v-neck underneath not nearly as soaked through. His glare was suddenly directed at Tommy, and he felt both boys move away from him.

"Get in the car."

---

Angry Techno made calm Techno's driving seem perfect. He felt like he was the passenger in a GTA game, trapped by the seatbelt as the player made the worse decisions he possibly f*cking could. Techno hadn't talked since they got into the car, and his glare was focused on the road ahead. Tommy was sure that it was the only reason that he was still breathing. He was still panicking, sure. But he wasn't actively fighting for breath while his throat closed from the visceral fear like it had earlier. They made it home in half the time that it took to get to the icecream shop, which Tommy was sure was illegal. He wasn't about to mention Techno's driving while the guy still looked like he was about to commit murder, though.

Tommy got out of the car first, unlocking it before the car was even off so that he could get inside. The air of murder-ness hanging around Techno made him desperate for as much space between them as he could possibly f*cking muster. He momentarily forgot about the knife wielding Wilbur incident until he opened the door. In the doorframe leading into the kitchen, there was the giant knife that Techno had been sharpening earlier. It clearly splintered the wood, and was embedded barely an inch away from the handle. That meant that there were about TEN f*ckING INCHES of knife currently stuck in the wall.

Phil peeked his head in from the kitchen, but didn't give much more than a tired wave. A few more steps in and Tommy could see the bundle of blankets on the couch that Wilbur had buried himself in. He turned, glasses perched too far down his nose. He looked like sh*t, and the sniffle he got made him somehow sound worse. His eyes were red and swollen from crying, making his paleness more noticeable. He looked a lot more docile than he probably should've. Especially since Tommy was sure that PHIL wasn't the one who got the knife stuck in the wall. Wilbur shifted, shoving himself over so that more of the couch was available. He unpaused whatever show he had been watching, the two animated characters going back to whatever they had been doing. When he spoke, he sounded like he was on the verge of tears again.

"Come watch Phineas and Ferb with me."

Chapter 41

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Tommy would've told Wilbur to go f*ck himself, but Techno burst through the door right behind him. Wilbur seemed suspiciously docile, but it was less horrific than trying to interact with a sticky scene kid who looked about ready to commit a felony. "Tommy?" f*ck, Wilbur sounded like he was about to start crying. He also looked like it. Somehow as soon as he ended up throwing himself into the seat, Wilbur decides to snuggle up to his side like some kind of demented cat. He didn't actually recognize the show. Not that it was his main concern. The same guy who embedded a giant f*cking knife in the wall was the same one pressed up against his side while swaddled in pile of blankets.

Wilbur's head was suddenly on his shoulder, and Tommy seriously reconsidering his choices. Maybe Techno was the safer choice. He was much better acquainted with getting his ass beat than he was with having a maniac try to cuddle. "Sorry I've been mean." Was suddenly mumbled next to his ear, followed by a sniffle. Holy sh*t, he couldn't handle this. Why couldn't Wilbur just stay mean? He could handle him being an asshole. He had adjusted to him being an asshole. Hell, he EXPECTED it from him. Why was Wilbur suddenly acting like he was some domestic motherf*cker. "Yeah." Was all he could think of to respond. Holy sh*t, he was turning into Techno.

"I don't like being mean. I'm sorry Tommy." A bit of movement from beside him was all the warning he got before he was suddenly being pulled into an awkward position. Wilbur was clutching him tightly like he was some kind of stuffed animal. He wasn't being strangled, but he was sure that he couldn't get out of the guy's grip if he tried. Why was Wilbur randomly strong as f*ck? "Okay." Tommy wasn't sure what he was supposed to say, but he tried to focus on the cartoon to distract himself from the fact that Wil was DEFINITELY falling asleep on him.

Why was Techno still turning out to be the normal one?

---

Tommy managed to quite literally slide out of Wil's hold once the brunette was passed out. He made some noise in response, but ended up flopping over and going back to sleep. He wasn't 100% sure why he went to the kitchen, but part of him knew that he wanted to see the damages. Phil was humming to himself and slathering what looked like icing into the- There were a LOT of gouges in the wall. Most of the knives that seemed to have been used to cause it were on the table with powder covering them. "Hey Toms! Didn't see you. Feeling any better?" Phil seemed as friendly as ever despite the fact that he was filling the knife holes in the walls.

"Wilbur tried to cuddle with me." Tommy flinched at his own voice. He sounded like some kindergartener tattling to the teacher. Phil's response didn't help, seeing as he almost dropped his weird concoction of sludge while whipping around to face him. "He didn't do anything bad, right? He didn't touch you inappropriately?" The words took too long to process, and now Tommy was just freaking out about something else. "No! He didn't f*cking molest me! Does he do that?!" Phil went red, holding his free hand up in a surrender as he tried to correct himself. "No! He doesn't, I swear! It's the opposite, really." Phil looked how he felt, and Tommy was suddenly aware that he wasn't the only one on the verge of a breakdown from being in the godforsaken household.

"The opposite of being molested is being stabbed?!" He really didn't mean it as a joke, but the defeat on Phil's face dropped as he started laughing. Tommy wasn't sure why he joined in, but it felt nice and helped to lift some of the tension from his chest. "I don't think so. Wilbur's just very physical. The opposite of him would be Tech, I think." Phil seemed so casual while talking about his kids. It was weird to have a civil discussion. He watched the man go back to patching the holes in the wall, the white mash making the damage very noticeable against the weird purple-gray walls. How many knives did Wilbur f*cking throw?

"If Wilbur makes you uncomfortable, you just have to tell him." Phil assured, acting as if he wasn't repairing the walls from a f*cking knife fight with his eldest. "What're we telling Wilbur?" Tommy jerked away from the voice, still expecting Techno to be in the mood to demolish him. He apparently wasn't, seeing as how he seemed content to lounge in the doorway with one of his stupid juice boxes. He had changed into a different (ugly) red sweatshirt and sweatpants. Tommy hadn't realized how long his hair since he had only seen him with it pulled up. It was like two feet f*cking long! And PINK! Techno meeting his eyes made him realize he was staring.

"Wilbur was being clingy is all. You know how he gets." Tommy was about to snap that he did NOT know how Wilbur got until he realized Phil wasn't talking to him. "Schlatt was what happened. Tommy wasn't too useful about it, said something about sulphur?" Techno's voice was emotionless and bland to the point that Tommy almost didn't catch the insult. "The f*ck do you want from me? Probably got brain damage and sh*t." He still wasn't sure if blacking out actually gave people brain damage. It wasn't like he WANTED to test his theory. He wasn't the one knocking himself out a million times a day.

"That guy that Wilbur thinks I don't know about?" Phil seemed overly amused at the mention of him, which didn't make sense since Tommy imagined that most parents wouldn't think a drug dealer hanging out with their kid was funny. Then again, Phil seemed pretty content to be fixing stab holes in the wall. "Yeah, that guy. Don't know about the sulphur thing." He would normally be upset about being left out of the conversation, but he also wasn't about to try and involve himself with their bullsh*t. "His patron is probably where the sulphur came from. I don't know why Wilbur thinks I don't know." Something clicked in his head.

"That's the thing Schlatt said! His f*cking patron or some sh*t was watching me!" Tommy's head felt a lot clearer now that he was trying to think back. "And he leaned in and smelled like egg-sh*t, and then Wilbur broke my goddamn shoulder!" Phil almost dropped the cup of sludge, which he assumed was because of his sudden shouting. "His patron? Tommy, don't f*ck with patrons. None of that sh*t when you're under my roof." Phil seemed to be rapidly losing his composure. "You didn't say this early?" Techno's tone was flat and bored like it always was, but he looked annoyed. "I didn't remember sh*t, you bitch." He had been worried about being murdered earlier, but he was more confident since he was sure that Phil would probably prevent any killing. He wasn't absolutely sure. But it was there.

"It probably didn't want you telling me. That kid already thinks I hate him." Phil was weirdly okay with Tommy cussing everybody out. "Do you hate him?" Schlatt didn't seem very LIKEABLE, and he was sure that Phil wasn't one to tolerate drugs and sh*t. He could be wrong though, considering that Wilbur seemed to have knife fits regularly enough that Phil knew how to patch the goddamn walls.

"Of course I hate him, he's a little twat."

Chapter 42

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Wilbur was still weird as sh*t at breakfast. He looked like he was actually eating something that looked like a vegetable, which was somehow uncommon. Honestly, how could this bitch run on drugs and sugar? It would make sense why he was so crazy, actually. His brain probably didn't get any nutrients or whatever. Tommy was unfortunately falling into a routine, and soon found himself standing at the cold bus stop in a new sweatshirt. His was a much better red than anything Techno wore. The pinkette hadn't said a word to him since the night before when Phil went on a rant about why Schlatt was 'a little bitch'. Tommy had passed the living room on his way to bed, and saw that he had somehow ended up on the couch with his brother. Which was good, because Wilbur was HIS brother so it was HIS problem.

"After school you're going to the library." Techno threw at him with ZERO explanation. He couldn't try and get any more since the asshole sprinted up to the bus faster than he needed to. At least he seemed less murder-y than he did when he got soda thrown in his face. Honestly, he was more surprised that Techno hadn't just clocked the guy as soon as he did it. The guy was a goddamn meat wall! If Tommy looked like that, he would for f*cking sure get into so many more fights! Which probably wasn't a good thing, but he would be able to actually defend himself if he had biceps the size of f*cking hams. Honestly, Techno was BORING. He could probably destroy everyone in every sport and be insanely popular, and yet he chose to look and act like.... himself.

Tommy shoved himself against the window and glared out at the trees. He saw something that looked vaguely like an animal, and then a VERY big flash of white. The bus passed it quick enough that he didn't see much more, but he could've swore it was familiar. The horrible, beady little eyes bore into his skull for barely a fraction of a second. But it felt like someone was hammering a screwdriver into the space between his eyes with how hard his heart was beating in response. What the f*ck was that thing? He considered briefly that it might've been one of the things Phil said to told him, but quickly brushed it off. Phil was the same motherf*cker who had to wrestle a knife away from Wilbur ROUTINELY. What did he know about parenting?

"You good? Look like you've seen a ghost." Tubbo threw himself into the empty space beside him with as much enthusiasm as always. Which seemed to be way too much. They got up at the ass crack of dawn to sit on a shaky pleather seat for forty minutes, and this guy was smiling? No one had any business being that happy. Tubbo took his silence in stride, because of course he was one of THOSE. "Your brother said you'd be joining us after school! I didn't know you played D&D." The brunette couldn't see his look of confusion with how his face was smushed against the cold glass. Which might've been a good thing since Tommy was too tired to pretend to nod along to whatever nonsense was said to him. "The f*ck is D&D?" Was that some kind of sport?

"Dungeons and Dragons? It's a fantasy game? He said that you'd be playing, which is great since Eret's the DM this week." Why did everyone keep talking about things like he knew what they f*cking were? What the hell was DM? 'Dick man' didn't sound right, but it was all he could think up on the spot. Was it even an acronym? "-and Ranboo will be there!" Tubbo had still been talking. "What's Ranboo?" It sounded like an energy drink. "He's a student, but he does online classes I think? He gets sick a lot so he only does clubs and stuff at school." Ranboo wasn't an energy drink. f*ck, he could use one. Why was he so tired? He slept and sh*t! AND without any weird ass dreams of fleshy skin monsters or homicide!

"What the f*ck kinda name is Ranboo?" Tubbo was basically vibrating in the seat next to him, which he was somehow too tired to be pissed about. If the bouncing from the road didn't make him knock his head off of the window, the idiot getting ready to explode next to him definitely would. Who had this much goddamn energy in the morning? "It's a nickname! I told you, lots of people use them. Some don't care as much as others." Tommy peeled his face off of the glass, not caring about the red mark that was probably imprinted on his cheek from the cold. "Yeah, but why?" He probably asked before, but he was too tired to remember or care. Tubbo just shrugged at him.

"It's just how things work around here."

---

Tubbo had pulled out a piece of paper he didn't recognize, and they basically spent all of their morning classes 'building him a character'. He had no idea what the f*ck that meant, he was told that they would be 'rolling stats' at lunch. He didn't want to be rolling sh*t. The idea of being a twenty four year old man that was a skilled pickpocket who robbed people at bars did seem fun. Tubbo had also told him that he had a bonus for picking locks and disarming traps, which would be important for whatever they were supposedly doing. Apparently he was also good at sneaking, and his background in being a criminal meant that he 'knew a guy' for everything. Which also sounded cool as sh*t! The only problem was that Tubbo started throwing a lot of math at him, and he walked into his English class ready to pass out and die.

Nick was already at his spot from the day before, tapping away quickly at whatever game he was playing. He picked his head up and nearly dropped his phone, his eyes going wide. "Dude! I didn't know you knew the BLADE!" Why was he f*cking yelling? And who the f*ck was 'The Blade'? "Stop shountin'n'sh*t." Why was everyone so loud when he was busy being tired? If the noise kept up, he would probably get a headache or something. "Technoblade? That guy who Quackity threw his Pepsi at? I thought he was a goner FOR SURE." The timid 'shh' Nick got in response to him screaming didn't seem to phase him all that much.

"His names f*cking TECHNOBLADE?!"

Chapter 43

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"You didn't know? That guy's name is Technoblade! He's a real scary bitch. I'm amazed he didn't straight up rock Quackity's sh*t right there." Nick was somehow shouting at a level loud enough to make his head throb, but not loud enough that he got yelled at for his volume. "Who's Quackity?" He wasn't sure why Nick seemed to think that the emo bodybuilding scene bitch he lived with was the coolest thing ever, but he could probably find out if he asked the right questions. The real question was if he could manage to be civil that long since he was f*cking exhausted with a headache forming. "That mexican guy. Only call him Alexis if you want to piss him off. It's funny if you don't know Spanish."

So that guy was speaking Spanish. Tommy was so busy being squished between Clay and Nick that he had just assumed that it had been actual gibberish. Which didn't make a whole lot of sense. "Did you see the ABS on that guy? He doesn't even do any sports!" Why was Nick talking about how muscular Techno was? That was gay- Wait. Wilbur said that Techno was 'vaguely gay', which was basically a yes. If Nick was too, maybe they could be together and Techno would stop being so pissed off about his breakup with Clay! f*ck, he was such a goddamn genius. He just had to figure out how to make two people like each other when they were nothing alike and had zero common interests. If people on TV could do it, then why couldn't he?

"Why'd you get in a car with him anyways?" Nick had been talking even after he had zoned out. Damn, did he sound like that? He probably used to. He learned from a young age that being louder than needed put a target on you, which wasn't safe until you befriended the violent kids. As far as he knew, that was Techno 'blade'. They weren't exactly friends. He wasn't sure what their relationship was. It probably didn't help that he spent the first night in the Watson household stabbing him to death. Hell, he didn't stab Wilbur and they weren't even on good terms! Nick had actually stopped his jumble of questions, instead staring at him as he waited for an answer.

"Well, I live with him. So he had to drive us home."

---

Nick apparently didn't know that he was a foster brat. Which was probably his fault since he hadn't mentioned it. He was used to someone figuring it out by himself. Plus, most teachers from any city would usually introduce him with the typical 'someone whose in foster care so be EXTRA SUPER nice' bullsh*t that they thought was helping. It did not in fact help. If anything, it just made people assume that he was either psychotic or a druggie. Which in hindsight was probably the reason that he got along so well with the kids that were both of those. The worse were the ones that were psychotic AND druggies. Tommy knew how fast one of those f*ckers could put a chair through a window.

He found himself at the table with Tubbo and Techno, both of them explaining the character sheet to him. Apparently Tubbo had Techno's phone number, which was weird but he wouldn't ask, and had mentioned that they needed to borrow whatever weird dice app he had on his phone. Techno was speaking in something just an octave above his usual monotone, which Tommy was becoming disgustingly familiar with already. Seriously, what the point in memorizing this guy's habits? It wasn't like he would be living with him for much longer. At some point during the exchange, something bounced off the side of his face and landed into the pile of ketchup he had gotten to try and help him choke down the odd meat sticks that were somewhere between fish or chicken. Or maybe very, very old cheese.

It was clearly a crumpled note. The other two at the table hadn't seemed to notice it. Tommy knew he should probably open it, but he was also concerned with the fact that it was sitting in a pile of f*cking ketchup. Seriously, what asshole thought that was even remotely a good idea? Stretching it out a bit while trying his best to ignore the soiled parts let him know that the idiot(s) in question were Nick and Karl. It looked like it was written in f*cking crayon by a toddler. The parts that were added to the sides in pen were a lot easier to read. It was basically a note explaining that the Quackity guy wanted to fight 'The Blade' after school.

He slid the note over, trying his best to not fling ketchup everywhere. "Here's a declaration of war from that Quack guy you pissed off last night. He wants to beat your ass because you disrespect him or some sh*t. And he's pissed about his soda." Tommy summarized, watching Tubbo nearly choke on his mix of canned fruit he had been inhaling.

He wasn't sure how that guy could eat it like it didn't taste like sh*t.

Chapter 44

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Tommy spent the rest of lunch writing down numbers where Tubbo told him to, watching Techno glare into the crayon note he had been gifted. He wasn't sure why the guy was so pissed off. It wasn't like he HANDED him the side that was covered in ketchup. He had tried to avoid it even! Techno's the one that felt the need to wrap his giant meat paws around the edges of the paper. If he got sticky, it was his own f*cking fault. Tubbo seemed to think that he needed some magic trinket, but said that Eret was supposed to be the one to determine it. He spent the last five minutes of the period boasting about his stick that apparently controlled bugs or some sh*t.

He didn't really care about Tubbo's make believe bug stick.

---

The end of the day came faster than it probably should've. He hadn't intended to doze off in his remaining classes, but he did anyways. It really wasn't his fault, though. School was boring and he had the right to close his eyes for a bit! Why did he need to memorize the presidents in order? He wasn't even born in America! He wasn't sure what had actually gone on for the first four years of his life, actually. But the accent clearly stuck, even if he got weird looks for it. It wasn't his f*cking fault. He sometimes wondered what the UK was even like. Or how he managed to end up on a different f*cking continent.

Tommy had no idea where the library was, but Tubbo said that he would show him if he just waited by the cafeteria for him. Which was how he ended up leaning against one of the walls while the Quackity guy who wanted to fight Techno stomped up to him. He was shorter than him by a bit, which he thought was kind of funny even if the guy looked ready to start swinging. "Where's Technoblade!" It wasn't really a question. It was more of a demand shouted up into his face. "Why're you f*cking yelling at me?" That seemed to get a lot more timid of a response than he was expecting. If anything, it would've made more sense for him to have gotten punched in the face.

Quackity blinked up at him, moving back a good foot. He wasn't expecting him to calm down once he swore in his face. "Sorry, dude. Gotta keep myself pumped up, ya' know? He's a scary f*cking guy." He seemed like a whole different person compared to the guy who was in his face less than a minute ago. "Why did you want to fight him, then?" Was Tommy f*cking missing something? The guy was practically bouncing on his feet, looking around frantically like he expected Techno to just pop out of the wall. Which he probably could if he wanted. He wasn't sure what the guy's stance on property damage was. He hadn't really asked.

"It's about the disrespect. And Nick said he'd give me fifty bucks if I won." What the f*ck was with Nick and bribing people? It clearly worked, but come on! What kind of maniac used money to try and start fights and sh*t at school? How would he even know if they actually fought? Well, Quackity would probably end up with a new mark or two. Tommy almost got obliterated from trying to sword fight with the f*cker for less than an hour. He was sure that he could hit hard too, seeing as he was built like the stuntman for an 80's action movie. Tommy would feel bad for Quackity, who clearly didn't know the danger he would be throwing himself into, if he wasn't excited to actually see what would happen. Techno wouldn't…. He wouldn't kill Quackity, would he?

"Fifty bucks if you won what?" A low voice rang around the room more than it probably should've, and Tommy realized that Techno had been sat at a table further back into the empty cafeteria. How long had he f*cking been there? What kind of weird bitch just lurked in the dark like that, anyways? "Technoblade! I'm going to-" Quackity went right back to yelling now that his 'opponent' was in his line of sight. Tommy's head was throbbing already, the threat of a headache building even more now that some bitch was screaming barely a foot from where he was. His temple was throbbing and his eyes felt like theretheir was pressure building behind him. Why was this guy so loud? He reminded him of aif a chihuahua. Little and angry. The idea of Techno punting him like he was some feral little rat dog was also funnier now that the guy gave him a headache.

"You're going to what?" Techno cut off whatever threat Quackity was trying to throw at him, his voice cutting through the air like a cold draft. f*ck, when had he gotten up. Tommy's brain felt like it was working in slow motion as he watched the pinkette stroll over to Quackity, like some wolf bearing down on an injured rabbit. "I'm going to fight you?" Quackity's voice raised a noticeable amount as he spoke, having to look up to meet Techno's stare. He hadn't narrowed his eyes at all, but Tommy even felt threatened by his gaze. And he wasn't the one it was even directed at! "You're going to fight me. Are you going to win?" Tommy felt like he was about to witness a f*cking murder. The clear challenge hung heavy in the air, his headache forgotten as he watched the exchange.

"Yes?" Quackity's voice was even higher than before, his hands shaking hard enough that Tommy could see it from where he was. f*ck, Techno was acting like he was going to kill him! "You're going to win? You're sure?" Techno's tone was flat with just the hint of a smile behind his words. Not a friendly smile, though. It was what he imagined a Disney villain would sound like while saying some kind of f*cked up sh*t to the main character. Quackity opened his mouth to respond, but he was titled back far enough that he tripped over himself. Techno had apparently been leaning over him enough that he had to bend himself backwards to avoid breaking eye contact. A kick to the knee that was probably holding all of his weight had Quackity hitting the ground, staring up like he was about to scream. Nothing came out.

Tommy wasn't sure if he was actually breathing. The aura of threatening malice engulfing the exchange must've been wafting over to him, because he felt just as f*cking paralyzed. Techno could stomp Quackity's head in like a rotten Jack-o-lantern and Tommy probably wouldn't be able to get himself to run. "I'm busy tonight. So I could break you now, or we can wait until you can muster some backup tomorrow." BREAK him?! What the f*ck did that mean? Quackity spouted something that didn't sound entirely English, and scrambled to himself out from under Techno after he got a small nod in response. The air of f*cking murder energy seemed to lessen significantly as Techno watched the poor guy sprint down the hall like he was being chased down. He turned back to Tommy, the start of a smile pulling at the edge of his lips as he spoke.

"So, D&D time?"

Chapter 45

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Tommy wasn't sure why Techno expected him to just ignore the fact that he had just made some poor guy piss his pants. He didn't see if Quackity had or not, but anyone else in that position probably would've. Hell, he probably would've pissed himself if he had been trapped under some crazy f*cker like that.

Technoblade could apparently be very, very f*cking scary. He also made people stop breathing when he got visibly pissed off, which Tommy knew for a f*cking FACT didn't help with the panicking.

He had actually expected him to murder Quackity right then and there, but he had said something about wanting to check the vending machine near the entrance to the library. He wasn't sure why there were even vending machines in the school.

As he found out, they were not in fact for the students! Techno literally just shouldered open the teacher's lounge that was probably f*cking locked, and flicked the lights on.

"Isn't this not allowed?" Tommy felt weird being the one to mention it.
Hell, he was usually the one causing the trouble.

Like the time he put frogs in the staff coffee pots and no one noticed until everyone got sick. He had felt bad for the poor frogs. But at the same time, how did none of those idiots notice that the grounds were full of f*cking frogs!?

He somehow didn't get in trouble for it since the school was more concerned with the lack of supervision. Looking back, sh*t like that was probably why he never learned long division in fourth grade like he was supposed to.

"There aren't any cameras in the rooms that don't have a window in the door. So unless you say something, no one knows." Why did Techno know what rooms in the school didn't have cameras?

He just casually said the most horrifying thing Tommy heard in the past day. Plus it was so specific. Did Techno really go through all the rooms to see which rooms did and didn't have cameras? Or did he hear it from somewhere.

He watched the guy pull something out of his pocket, assuming that it was going to be his wallet since he was in front of a snack machine. It was not his wallet. It looked like a bent flathead screwdriver.

"What the f*ck is that?" Tommy didn't like how his voice cracked as he watched.

"It's called anarchy." Techno responded casually. He seemed really calm, as if he wasn't wrenching the door open. He clearly knew what he was doing, since there was a click before it was swung open.

"I don't like authority. Expect Phil. Who we don't tell about this." Techno literally just took a handful of whatever he wanted, tossing a bag of bugles at him.

He seemed really calm despite the fact that it seemed mildly illegal for them to be doing this. Techno was the one doing it, right? Was he just a witness? Or an accomplice?

"Don't leave a mess in the library and toss the trash in the cans in the cafeteria on our way out."

With that, Techno was leaving him alone in the teacher's lounge.

---

Tommy found himself in front of some cardboard map while Tubbo inhaled corn chips beside him. He was somehow chewing hard enough that the crunching was obnoxiously loud without visibly chewing. He was sure that the guy was about to start f*cking choking at any moment.

Which would suck because he sure as sh*t didn't know what to do about that. The heimlich maneuver was never taught to him, and the closest he'd ever seen was kids punching each other in the back. Hopefully Techno or the Rambo guy who was going to show up knew more.

He had completely forgotten about the mention of Eret until they were in front of him, smiling down. Their eyes seemed to shine under the lights, their smile wide.

"Ranboo was washing his hands when I left him, so we can get Tommy started. What's your name?" Eret stared at him expectantly while shoving an oreo into their mouth.

"Tommy?" What the f*ck kind of question was that?

"Your character name is going to be Tommy?" Eret seemed mildly unimpressed, speaking around the cookie in their mouth. Tommy was going to start flipping his sh*t if spit and crumbs started flying out at him.

“There a problem with that?”

Eret f*cking laughed at him. Tommy was starting to regret agreeing to play. Actually, he didn’t agree to f*cking play! Techno had pretty much just told him he had to. Then forced him to be a goddamn witness in a snack machine robbery! It was unfortunately still better than having to hang out with Wilbur, though.

“Problem with what?” A voice was suddenly behind him, and he twisted in his chair to try and locate whoever the f*ck snuck up on him. Who needed to be that f*cking tall?! Why was he wearing a mask?! WAS THIS BITCH IN A THREE PIECE SUIT?! What kind of posh bitch even knew how to get into one of those!?

“Hey Ranboo! We were just getting Tommy here started.” The obnoxiously tall guy was taking the seat across from him, so he tried to straighten in his chair a bit to not seem as small in comparison. He made a face when he noticed the rest of the get-up.

On top of what was literally a goddamn suit, there was also a pair of mismatched gloves that were opposite of the split face mask. His whole theme of black and white was only broken by the bright red tie. He also had a pair of sunglasses on light Eret did, but the lenses seemed thicker.

This Ranboo guy was also a brunette, even though he seemed to be the lightest he had seen so far. If Wilbur was anything to by, he could safely assume that tall brunettes in town were secretly f*cking psycotic. Which meant he wouldn’t have to worry about Tubbo since he was short. It also meant that he could justify hating Eret.

He watched as the guy stripped off his jacket, folding it over the chair neatly. His actions seemed stiff. Especially when he sat himself down and laid out what looked like a three ringed binder, holding himself upright like someone shoved a stick up his ass. He would’ve looked like some weird statue if he wasn’t breathing.

“Tommy! Tubbo told me about you. We could use a rogue, since Uthal keeps getting us arrested.” Ranboo’s voice was just as stiff as his posture, every word very meticulous and seemingly planned. Tommy didn’t like him.

“Tubbo didn’t tell me sh*t about you.” He spat, relishing in the flinch he seemed to get in response. Something was off about this guy, and he wanted to find out what.

That, and Tommy enjoyed being mean.

Chapter 46

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Tommy wasn't going to admit that he was having fun. Eret was actually getting him invested in their little adventure, and it was funny that their team diplomat was the bug stick man. He still had no idea what a grugach was. Or a goliath, for that matter.

Ranboo had shown him a picture he had found of what a dark elf apparently was, explaining that his character was more gray than purple. It was also funny to see how upset the guy got when Tommy picked his pockets, which was something that Eret kept letting him do.

"Roll initiative." Tommy stopped listening for a second, and Techno had already started another fight. Seriously, was this really how barbarians were?

"Seven." Tubbo kept rolling like sh*t, which was funny. He passed the die over to Tommy since he had offered to share. He flicked his wrist, watching the green plastic roll.

"Nine." Tubbo's dice were probably just bad. His sh*t luck was rubbing off on Tommy, and he didn't like it.

"Eighteenth." Ranboo didn't roll like sh*t.

"Two."

It was funny that Techno had started the f*cking fight, and had to go last. It was just a few drunk guys. "Is it illegal for me to stab these men?"

Eret gave him that look again. Why were they acting like it was a dumb question? He could always just f*cking murder them without asking if they were going to act like he was stupid.

"It's illegal to do serious bodily harm to the off duty guards. And again, murder is illegal here."

"Just askin'." He huffed, staring at his paper to pretend like he was considering his options.

"Ranboo, you're first. The man closest to you just cracked a liquor bottle on the bar, so he's wielding an improvised glass weapon. Roll."

Eret kept asking Tubbo and Ranboo to roll for sh*t without them mentioning what they were actually doing. They had only done it twice for Techno.

Not that Tommy was complaining. He was more than okay with them staying out of his f*cking head. He technically didn't have a reason to assume they could read minds, but he also didn't have a reason to assume they couldn’t.

"Does seventeen hit?" A seventeen better f*cking hit. Tommy didn't get any bonus with an unarmed strike.

"It does. Roll damage for inflict wounds." What the f*ck was inflict wounds. Was that a spell? Tubbo said clerics were supposed to be healers!

He wasn't actually sure what spells Ranboo had. Or Tubbo, for that matter. Eret had him introduced to the party after he was caught trying to seize them up as a target, where Techno's goliath basically threatened to turn him into the guards if he didn't join their group.

The trio had apparently gotten to the city limits after a larger fight with a bandit blockade on the main shipping road, which is where their spell slots went. Tubbo had gone into detail about how pissed he was about wasting his since he apparently only hit with two of them.

"Twenty nine points of necrotic damage." Ranboo declared proudly. Tommy could practically see him beaming under his stupid mask.

"If you hit him again, he will die."

---

Tommy was still pissed off. Apparently magic users could sh*t out more damage than he could even with a critical hit. Which was absolutely bullsh*t! He was fighting without his weapon, though. Techno had taken a bar stool and used it as a club at some point, which he apparently wasn't allowed to do with his measly twelve in strength. Why did Techno even have a twenty there?!

Tommy did think that Tubbo getting beat over the head with said stool was pretty funny. It had knocked the idiot out cold since it took pretty much all of his health. He wasn't allowed to loot his teammate, apparently.

Tommy did find another reason to hate Ranboo, though. The bitch hadn't rolled bad once. The only time he rolled a one was conveniently after a comment he threw out about his 'luck'.

Tommy knew it wasn't luck. Techno was being lucky, and even then he was sure that his multitude of bonuses were helping him. Techno had rolled sh*t quite a few times. Ranboo hadn't.

What he didn't understand was how someone was supposed to cheat at a dice game. Was there a special way of tossing it? Maybe it was f*cking magnets. He was probably just pulling ideas out of his ass.

It somehow took over an hour and a half for them to finish the bar fight and give a report to the on duty guards. Apparently Eret had been serious about the whole 'getting arrested thing', since they tried to take Techno to jail for bashing in the one guy's skull. Apparently smashing a guy's brain in killed him.

Tommy had actually been the one to alleviate the situation, which seemed to surprise his teammates a bit too much. Seriously, did they think he was f*cking useless?!

He had rolled a twelve, plus with his six in deception got an eighteen. Which was enough to basically convinced the guards with some crude wordplay that Techno's character had brain damage and couldn't help it.

The best part was is that Techno had went along with it, but Ranboo hadn't caught on to what they were doing. Which lead to Techno cracking Ranboo's character over the head to knock him out. Tommy faced the guards with a "See? His brain don't work.", and they had backed off.
The three of them had successfully escaped, laughing amongst themselves.

It was only then that Tubbo, around a mouthful of chips, asked if they had gotten his unconscious body from the bar.

Chapter 47

Chapter Text

Tommy somehow ended up having to help clean up. Ranboo basically got to leave the second 7:30pm hit, and Tubbo apparently disappeared after walking him out. Techno had gone to piss or something, so he was stuck scooping crumbs up with Eret. Who he didn't LIKE.

"So, Ranboo." They broke the silence, leaning against a shelf as they watched him actually CLEAN. Were they even helping?!

"Yeah." Tommy could tell that they were expecting something. He wasn't a f*cking mind reader , though.

"Yeah, well I am." Their voice seemed a bit too loud in the suffocating silence of the library. They spoke so matter-of-factly, and he knew better than to disregard it.

"I can tell you don't like him. And I'm only going to tell you this once, so you better remember it." They strode closer, looming over him.

They seemed so much bigger than they had before. Was it just because he had been kneeling? His fists clenched around the crumbs he had been collecting in a feeble attempt to stop his hands from shaking.

They pulled their glasses down, their pupils a milky as they glared down at them. Were they f*cking blind?

“No. Not in a way that matters.” They were smiling down at him like they knew something he didn’t, the grin a bit too wide. A bit too ingenuine.

“Ranboo doesn’t get to leave the house other than Wednesdays nights for this club. His mom is a psychotic bitch, so you’re going to choke down any distaste for him and let him have this.” They weren’t done, though.

“Yes, he was cheating. He doesn’t know he’s doing it, and it makes it more fun for him. It’s harmless . If you want to bitch about him, you have literally every other day of the week to do so.” Were they getting taller?!

No, they were just leaning over him. He felt his back scream at him as he bent himself back to try and hold eye contact. It felt like if he broke their gaze that it would tip over and dissipate whatever remaining civility they had. He was f*cking scared .

“You should know better than anyone what being trapped in an abusive household will do to someone.”

---

Tommy was still shaken up by Eret’s little warning . It felt a lot like a threat. Actually, it was a threat. Telling him that they would f*cking descimate him if he f*cked with Ranboo in any way was pretty much the definition of a threat.

Tubbo and Techno didn’t seem to think anything was wrong by the time they had gotten back. Tommy wasn’t going to mention it even if they had asked. The clear solution was to just not piss with Ranboo.

To be fair, how was he supposed to know about the guy’s homelife. That was probably why they had told him in the first place. But couldn’t they have done it in a nicer way?

No, because Tommy knew that he didn’t listen well.

---

Thankfully Techno wasn’t the one driving them home. He wasn’t sure why the pinkette had gotten into the back of the car until he saw that the passenger seat was occupied.

“I made dinner.” Opening the back door hit him with a wave of the pizza scent from up front, and he was not complaining. Wilbur seemed pleased with himself and his seven boxes of pizza.

“Did you get pineapple and sausage for Phil?” Techno was clearly focused on the food as well.

Even knowing how the guy ate, he was still amazed that he still had an appetite after watching him inhale more than ten bags of chips and sh*t. He was pretty sure that the f*cker just finished off what everyone else hadn’t.

Tommy let them talk, letting himself focus on the scene out his window. He made a face as he realized that he could probably identify the group of figures dicking around on the track. Why were they still there?

“Tommy. Why’re you being quiet?” Wilbur’s voice was suddenly flooding his senses, rattling around his skull like a bullet.

“I’m upset that Eret read my mind and threatened me over hating Ranboo.” He spat, not being able to stop himself. His words caught up to him, and he was sort of grateful for having something to be pissed off about.

Being mad was much more familiar than the feeling of hopelessness that hung over him. He could be mad at the frown Techno was directing at him. And he could definitely be mad at the worried glances Wilbur kept shooting at him from the mirror.

“Was it over the dice?” Techno was the one to break the stiff silence, his dull monotone nearly inaudible over the noise of the car.

“Yeah.” It wasn’t just about the dice. Ranboo seemed… put together. He was dressed well and like he came from money. Tommy usually didn't get along well with people like that.

“He’s like us, Tommy. His mom doesn’t let him leave the house from what I’ve gathered.” Techno’s was telling him sh*t he already knew.

“I thought you were just bitchy because you had to play with them.” Wilbur almost sounded apologetic . “I can tell Phil, if you want?”

Tommy didn’t want Phil to know.

---

Tommy’s skin kept crawling when they looked at him. Why couldn’t Wilbur go back to his snide comments and glares? Why couldn’t Techno go back to his apathetic gaze? They were really pissing him off. It was pity. They were pitying him.

He couldn’t get himself to eat, instead opting to glare at the plate sitting in his lap. His stomach was too tightly bound in knots to try and force anything down.

They had both offered to let him in the living room by himself. The only issue is that he could still f*cking hear them. Not that any of the words were sinking in.

Eret blatantly told him that they were a mind reader. Which meant that they could’ve gone through his head at any f*cking time. Which they clearly f*cking did, since they were answering questions he hadn’t said.

How much of his mind had they f*cking gone through? That wasn’t sh*t they had any right to look at. They could see into his f*cking head, and still decided to f*cking threaten him. Why did that hurt the most?

‘ You should know better than anyone what being trapped in an abusive household will do to someone .’ Yes, he did.

What was so f*cking special about Ranboo? Why was he more likeable ?!

“Tommy?” A voice broke through the blurred haze of disgust and rage sitting over his mind. He looked up, his frown deepening as he saw that it was Wilbur.

Wilbur, who looked down at him without any of the annoyance he had grown accustomed to. The same Wilbur who had the audacity to look like he cared .

“You haven’t eaten?” It wasn’t a statement. He was being asked in as few words as possible. Even Wilbur’s pity didn’t extend far.

“Not hungry.” He was getting to his feet when a hand on his shoulder stopped him. The cold fingers were the same ones that had cracked it before. He could’ve sworn he felt him tightening his grip, the sickening noise of his bone splintering under the force ringing in his ears.

He wanted to run. His heart was beating and the bile rising in his throat made him feel like he was about to puke on himself. He wanted to dig the noise out of his skull with his fingers. Instead, he turned around and faced the brunette.

“Don’t f*cking touch me.” He spat, his mouth feeling dry and sticky as he spoke. Wilbur’s eyes widened, but he withdrew.

“Tommy, I know how-”

“No you don’t . You don’t know sh*t!” Was Wilbur seriously going to say he knew how he f*cking felt ?! The same Wilbur who forced the truth out of him in the first f*cking place!?

“I know that you’re scared about what they saw!” Wilbur was yelling back at him, his expression slowly souring. Tommy wasn’t sure why it made him feel triumphant.

“That’s not even the main issue you Crack Skellington looking f*ck!” He spat, the argument feeling familiar. Being angry made it easier to feel in control. He had also been sitting on that insult for a while.

“ THEN TELL ME WHAT THE PROBLEM IS !”

Chapter 48

Chapter Text

“I’m scared-” Tommy’s mouth was moving, the words leaving him despite how much he didn’t want them to. His stomach was churning painfully, the heat rising in this throat like it did when he was going to vomit. f*ck-

“Tommy?” Wilbur’s expression was nothing but shock, and he looked almost motionless as he stared down at him.

“I’m scared and I can’t feel safe because I can’t defend myself. Everything’s so f*cking terrifying, and I don’t know what’s going on. I keep seeing sh*t and everyone is f*cking magic and I’m not.” f*ck, he was actually going to be sick.

His mind was foggy, the only thing cutting through the haze of Wilbur’s command being his growing rage. He was mad. These were private thoughts. Eret at least had the decency to leave them in his f*cking head.

“Tommy-”

“Phil keeps being nice to me and it hurts.” His voice was suddenly failing him, his eyes glassy as he stared ahead at the brunette in front of him.

Wilbur looked… horrified. He was somehow paler than he usually was. He looked like Tommy had just stabbed himself in the throat and was actively bleeding all over the floor.

“Stop. Stop talking.” Wilbur’s voice was about as steady as he looked.

Tommy’s mind cleared enough that he could realize that he was about to puke on himself. He started towards the kitchen, outright shoving Wilbur out of the way.

He was throwing up in the kitchen garbage a lot.

---

Tommy outright ignored Wilbur once he was done being sick. The brunette kept trying to talk to him, but all he could hear was his voice ringing around his skull like an old screensaver bouncing around. All he could see was the irritated glare and half-snarl he was wearing when he initially shouted at him.

Apparently Wilbur was just as sh*tty as he was before. Why else would he have done that to him? Especially after pretending to be sympathetic. That made it hurt worse. Which was somehow more horrifying, since it actually hurt.

He wasn’t sure when he locked himself in his room, or when he pressed palms against his ears hard enough to make the cartilage ache. It was easier to listen to the blood rushing in his ears in place of his usual static. Where was the stupid f*cking static? Did that leave him too?

A dry laugh escaped him at how ridiculous he was being. How f*cking patheic was he? He was crying over some weird noise not being there anymore?

Why was he so f*cking pathetic? Tommy bit the inside of his cheek to try and stifle whatever noise was going to come from him. He needed to choke down any noise so that he could try and hide himself away better.

f*ck. He was pathetic. He had a f*cking headache starting, and he was f*cking shaking like he had hypothermia. He was so f*cking alone.

But you don't have to be.

Tommy sat up fast enough that the room started spinning, his hands falling from the sides of his heads. His ears throbbed as the pressure was finally released.

"What the f*ck." He wasn't expecting a response, especially since he was sure that he hallucinated it.

Why else would he be hearing something in his head? If Television had taught him anything, it was that hearing voices was a sign of going crazy. Which was just his f*cking luck, wasn't it?

Your luck can change.

---

Tommy wasn’t sure how long he listened to the thing talk. The soothing tone was a lot nicer than anything that was swirling around his head. Even with how dull and quiet it was, it was still easier to focus on.

The voice was almost melodic. It was also distant, like it was coming from far away even though it sounded so close. Trying to focus on it only made it sound like it was actually multiple voices layered over each other. Which was somehow more enthralling.

“Tommy?” Wilbur’s voice was muffled by the door, but he still flinched away from it. He could still feel Wilbur’s voice in his head, demanding, pulling answers from him.

“Tommy, please answer me. You still haven’t eaten.” It sounded like a question, but he was still tempted to clamp his hands back over his ears. Would that even work? Or would Wilbur’s voice still worm it’s way into his brain even as he fought it?

Maybe he could deafen himself.

You could mute him. The cold amalgamation of voices helped to sooth the throbbing of the growing migraine. Did panic make headaches worse? Or was Wilbur’s entire being just making his skull ache like someone was stabbing into his head with a screwdriver?

Was that another power of his? Was Wilbur serious about making his brain melt?! Was he going to-

Calm yourself. You’re not alone, young one. Wasn’t he? As much as the voices seemed to want to help him, they weren’t physical. They couldn’t fight off Wilbur for him. They couldn’t keep him safe.

You could be taught to defend yourself.

---

Tommy was losing his mind. Wilbur eventually f*cked off, leaving him alone in the empty room. The air was getting stuffy, so he found himself wandering over to his window. He hadn’t actually tried to open it since he had been brought to the Watson household.

He made a face at the thought. It hadn’t even been a week, had it? Yet he had so much sh*t thrown at him. It would’ve been impressive if he wasn’t busy being dicked over by magical motherf*ckers back-to-back.

You’re more than them. Tommy snorted at the whisper, before he froze. It wasn’t a whisper. Standing against the windowsill, he could hear it with a bit more clarity. Like he was… closer to it?

You can be so much more. He swallowed dryly, not wanting to acknowledge how nice that sounded. It seemed to know that, too.

You could be safe.

“Phil said I am safe.” He didn’t believe Phil. Why would he? How f*cked up was it that the man gave him f*cking stitches and then made him drink some weird shiny sludge to fix it?

You could be safe with me.

Tommy pressed his forehead against the window, staring out through the chilled glass. The temperature was nice against his headache.

The sun was already below the trees, painting the forest in a dark pink haze. It was nice. Pretty, even. He never got to enjoy a sunset like it in the city.

“Phil said I am safe.” He repeated, his voice less assertive than it had been the first time. He was trying to convince himself more than anything. Since when was he so easily swayed?

Young deserve to feel safe. Come to me, and I will bring you peace.

It hit him all too suddenly what was speaking to him. He was warned specifically that the woods were alive. Why did they act like it was a bad thing?

They haven’t been kind to you. Why would they be truthful? That was a good point. The only one he got any kind of actual answer out of was Eret, and that was when they were yelling at him.

“What do you mean come to you?” He couldn’t hop out of the f*cking window and run into the woods. He might’ve been desperate for some kind of comfort in the hellscape he was dealing with, but he wasn’t that desperate.

Roots. Climb down them and follow the clovers to me.

f*ck. It was right, there were strings of ivy growing into the side of the building. Would that sh*t even hold him? He didn’t need to break his legs on top of everything else going to sh*t.

I won’t let you be harmed. Its chorus of voices assured him. If it lied to him, breaking his legs was still better than going through the house since Wilbur would probably tail him.

And force the truth out of him again.

“You better f*cking not.” His tone was shaky and outright pathetic. The soft rumbling he got in response reminded him of a cat purring. If seventeen cats who were all a slightly different pitch were purring, and the noise played somewhere that sounded vaguely behind him.

Was he really climbing out the f*cking window?

---

Yes, he did really climb out the window. He was laying on his back, letting the grass tickle against the skin it could reach. He ended up slipping on something and his back hit the ground from about ten feet up.

But it didn’t hurt. It felt like he had always been laying there. There wasn’t even any discomfort from where he would’ve slammed into the ground.

I won’t let harm come to you. I promised.

“You did promise, big man.” Tommy let a nervous chuckle leave him. It was right, wasn’t it? It was nice to him and prevented him from getting hurt. That was more than Phil had f*cking done for him.

Follow the clovers to me.

“I don’t know what a f*cking clover is.” Tommy felt silly whispering to himself, splayed out on the ground. But it hadn’t even hinted at being irritated with him, let alone annoyed.

The ones under you.

What the f*ck did that mean? He had fallen into a patch of grass. He shrugged, not having a reason to question it. It was being nice to him, so how evil could it really be?

Peeling himself off of the ground made him miss the cushion that was the grass. Or, was grass. He turned a bit, and saw what it was talking about. He rolled over onto his knees, staring at it.

There were little plants below him, each of them holding four little leaves on the stems. They all looked lush and fresh, like they had just been grown. They were also in the shape of his body from when he hit the ground, the detailing fine enough that he could identify where his hair and fingers had collided.

Those are clovers. You can eat them. The mention of food reminded him of his empty stomach. The only thing he was running on was what remained of his adrenaline, and his fear of being within earshot of Wilbur.

“I’m not eating those.” He wasn’t just going to start chowing down on Phil’s f*cking lawn just because the weird voice told him that he could.

You can’t starve. Come to me. What fruits?

“What fruits what?” What the f*ck was he being asked? There was another wave of the oddly soothing purring noise, and then what sounded like clicking.

What fruits can you eat? I won’t let you leave me hungry.

That was… Oddly thoughtful. It was like Phil seemed to be, minus the horrible sons that said weird sh*t and were mean to him.

He plucked one of the clovers out of the ground, staring at the leaves between his fingers. Was it a four leaf clover? That meant something, didn’t it?

Tommy didn’t get a response except for another few clicking noises. He was quickly growing accustomed to it’s soft lull, so he felt like going to it would make it continue.

It was easier to follow the path than he had expected. For some reason. He assumed that the clovers would’ve been hidden amongst the grass.

They weren’t. They were peeking above the rest of the lawn, the green a noticeably different color spread across the four little leaves. He definitely wouldn’t f*cking eat them, but they looked like something that would go in a fancy salad.

In a few strides, he was standing at the edge of the woods. The leaves blanketed over each other, suffocating the grass. The only greenery were odd clumps of plant he couldn’t identify, and what looked like thorns.

You don’t need to traverse the thorns, young one. Follow the path before you.

It was a lot louder than before. It stopped sounding like it was standing behind him, the chorus seeming much closer to where he was. It was like several singers were singing words to him in different pitches without going over each other. It was actually kind of pretty?

Tommy looked back to the ground, surprised to find little patches of clovers tucked between the rest of the undergrowth. How had he not seen them before? They lead him off at an angle, noticeably around the thorns.

At least it didn’t want to hurt him.

---

Tommy wasn’t sure how long he walked. He did know that the only time he had checked behind him, there wasn’t any break in the trees to hint at where the house would’ve been. He could feel himself trembling at the idea of being trapped in the woods overnight, seeing as the sky was steadily darkening above him.

I will lead you out if you wish. I will not force anything upon you.

Tommy believed it. It sounded so much closer than it had when he had stood at the edge of the woods. It was still a bit distorted, though.

There are nails hidden by the man. To keep me out.

What the f*ck did that mean? He voiced his question, still grateful that it seemed to let him speak before responding. It gave him a sense of control that he didn’t realize that he had been missing.

I cannot traverse iron. He tries to silence me.

“He did a pretty sh*t job, since I still heard you.” There was a hum in response, and he realized that he had continued walking as they talked.

You reached for me. I did not speak to you first.

Tommy felt his throat tighten for a moment, not knowing what that meant. He didn’t reach for anything. He was just panicking like a sad bitch, and then he heard it speaking to him.

“You would let me go home if I asked, right?” He was so far, and he felt like he was getting past the point of no return. The forest was silent around him, the only noise for a long pause being the wind rustling the leaves.

That isn’t your home. But, yes. I would let you go back to the man’s house.

Tommy knew it wasn’t his home, but it felt oddly reassuring that he wasn’t the only one to think that. Reassuring enough that he continued to follow the clovers. He tried to not step in them, not wanting to kill all of the nice little plants.

“I’m not going back there.”

Chapter 49

Chapter Text

It was getting dark. He had no idea how long he walked, but he knew that everything was still quiet around him. It hadn't been answering him as much. Which was probably his fault for not talking.

"You still there?" f*ck, it was probably only a minute since the last time he bothered them. He was f*cking pathetic. "Sorry."

Why are you apologizing? You haven’t seen me, and didn’t know if I stood with you. You have been alone too long, young one. Soon we will meet.

Tommy was losing his mind. Honestly, how f*cked up was he? Or maybe it was just really good at being reassuring? Either way, it effectively calmed him down. Until he heard some horrible screaming noise from somehow further into the trees.

“Am I safe?” If he heard something like that in the city, it meant that someone was being f*cking stabbed. He walked in on that sh*t on more than one occasion. It was one of the consequences of having a group home in the sh*ttier part of the city.

I won’t let harm come to you. The coyotes will not bother you. They know better. It assured him, the chorus of voices humming to him. He trusted them. Even if he wasn’t sure what a coyote actually was. Or why they apparently screamed.

They sounded much clearer, but hadn’t been getting louder. They had said something earlier about Phil keeping them away, so he probably just crossed whatever the man had done. Didn’t they say something about chains?

Do not stray from the clovers. You are close, but so are they. Suddenly was rattling around his brain, and he looked down to see that he had stepped a little bit off of the path. He finished setting his foot down, and regretted it almost immediately.

It felt like something was staring into his f*cking soul. In a way he knew. Like the gaze of the deer from school, and the birds that stared at him through the windows of the school. He was suddenly a lot more cautious about staying on the path of the clovers.

You are almost to me. Stay aware.

Tommy wasn’t sure that it meant until his foot caught something in the dark and he almost went on his face. He couldn’t see well enough to go any faster now that the sky had darkened above him. He trusted them, though.

He saw it without having to be told what it was. It was what looked like a very, very old tree. Only he could tell that it wasn’t wood. It was some kind of twisted stone that looked like it had grown out of the ground. The clearing it was settled in was oddly well kept.

He stepped into the ring, and almost winced as everything seemed to get brighter for a second. He could see more clearly despite how dark it was. It was then that something shot from the darkness, charging at him.

Tommy screamed and almost fell on his ass, prompting the weird animal to stare at him. “What the f*ck?” Had it lied about keeping him safe? Was this a f*cking coyote?!

You are here. Now eat, for you have walked far. He felt like the stare being directed at him through black eyes was paired with the voices. Once it had spoken, it bounced away towards the odd monolith tree.

“What the f*ck are you?” Was this… Was this some kind of magic cat? Was that why it was so long? Did he really run into the woods after a hysterical fit to meet up with a long f*cking cat?

I take the form of what your kind calls a fisher. I am a spirit of the woods, and wish to walk with you. Eat. He had no idea what a fisher was. The only kind of fisher he knew were the kind of old men who wore rubber boots and stood in rivers and stuff on TV.

He followed it, still mildly cautious. It turned and stared at him as it hopped over a pile of what looked like berries. And-

“Is that a f*cking rat?” Why was there a f*cking dead rat? The weird fishing cat nodded at him, bouncing its weird pointed head at him.

Yes. I am not aware of what your kind eats.

“Not dead rats.” He wanted to puke just looking at it. It’s throat was torn out, for f*ck’s sake.

Would you prefer a frog? Oh, ew. That was f*cking worse. Even if it was trying to be nice? Tommy just found something else to look at, not wanting to focus on the pile of berries and dead rodent.

“No. Why am I here?” Tommy knew what it was, vaguely, but he still didn’t know why it made him walk so far to come to it. It slinked over to him, basically bouncing around his feet. Maybe fishers were closer to dogs? It wasn’t moving very cat-like.

Please, sit. I have much to tell you.

---

“So you’re saying my magic is the reason you could hear me panicking, and you want to be my companion animal?” Tommy was having trouble wrapping his mind around what it was telling him. He also wasn’t sure when it ended up in his lap, but he was petting it.

Animal guide. The man would refer to me as a familiar. Tommy nodded with that, letting his hand glide over it’s fur. It was surprisingly soft. It was also warm enough to help fight the chill that was hanging in the night air.

“But why would you help me ‘n sh*t? I know f*cking nothing.” He hissed the last part out bitterly, resisting the urge to hug the beast to his chest like a stuffed animal.

I am youth, as are my brethren. The Phil man doesn’t trust our kind due to his ignorance of us. But the one of the forest isn’t the only like us to have noticed you. It’s jumble of voices explained, twisting to stare up at him.

“What does that mean? I can break cups and f*cking ruin things, so I don’t get why you’d bother with me.” There were suddenly teeth sinking into the side of his hand, making him shriek and jerk away from it.

You are strong, but with no guide. It is unjust. I can teach you. I will keep you from harm. It stopped baring its teeth at him as it spoke. Was it really speaking? Either way, the words sunk in.

“What’s the catch?” Tommy wanted to not seem as desperate to accept as he really was. It was kind of sad that he was so excited to have a f*cking long cat as a friend.

You mean trick? I do not trick. It is not my way. My way is of bravery, and I wish to extend that to you. I am a warrior. The self proclaimed warrior stared up at him with it’s black eye, it’s round ears flicking.

“So… You’re asking to be my magic pet?” He managed to pull his hand back before he was bit again. Even if it hadn’t broken skin, it still f*cking hurt.

I am asking to guard you. It would be an honor to serve one with such spirit. You are hurt already, and I will fight to keep it from continuing.

So the long cat was asking to be his f*cking bodyguard, not his pet.

---

Once Tommy had agreed to let the oblong cat be his friend(?), the next issue came with the fact that he was in the middle of the woods in the f*cking dark. He had no idea how long he had walked in the first place, but the idea of leaving the clearing where he could actually see made him nervous as f*ck.

I will lead you. But the man and his kits are out. Do you want to go around them? It’s odd chorus of voices was becoming oddly comforting, especially since it meant that he wasn’t alone.

“Yeah, I’d like to go around them.” He got another bout of the nice chirping noise in response before it was bouncing away, pausing every now and again to see if he was watching it.

He was dreading having to explain anything to Phil, actually. What was he supposed to say? That Eret was mean to him and then Wilbur made him say why? How f*cking childish was that? Wilbur probably already gave his dad some half assed explanation, anyways.

Tommy was barely halfway through the thought before he was suddenly stepping through the tree line and into the yard. He swung his head around, trying to figure out what the f*ck had happened. He could hear someone shouting further out into the forest, and he could see small beams of light flashing around.

“What the f*ck was that?” He felt almost breathless, even as the laughter rose from him.

We went around.

Chapter 50

Chapter Text

Tommy found himself inside and alone. Well, alone as he could be with his so-called ‘warrior’ in his lap. He was busy scarfing cold pizza from the stack he had gathered on his plate when the front door was swung open. It bounced off the wall loud enough that the sound rang in his ears, making his grip on the beast’s fur tighten.

“You know he won’t come inside until he finds him! He’ll be out all f*cking night!” His throat was suddenly closing, and air was harder to take in. It was Wilbur. Wilbur was the one screaming. About him.

Breathe. I am here. He had something nuzzling his face, and he found himself clutching it to his chest like some kind of pillow. Not that it seemed to mind, actually. Tommy felt like a scared little kid hiding behind their teddy.

"I know. But-" Techno's voice was a lot quieter to the point that he almost missed it over the half-scream Wilbur let loose. But even he shut up enough that the noise of the pinkette sniffing the air was audible from the kitchen.

There wasn't any warning before Techno practically sprinted into the kitchen, staring down at him from the doorway. Tommy didn't realize he was shaking until they leaned into his grip in an attempt to calm him.

He doesn't plan to harm you. It offered, staring up at him. It was easier to focus on their gaze rather than the crimson eyes piercing his skull.

"Tommy."

"Techno." He didn't like how shaky his voice was with the response. He felt like a child waiting to get punished, which he technically was.

"What the f*ck is that thing?"

---

Wilbur was thankfully not speaking to him. Which was good, because Tommy was sure that he would've had a panic attack if he so much as caught the brunette staring at him. His instincts were telling him to get the f*ck away from him, even when they weren't so much as in the same room together. Which was honestly pathetic.

The boy harmed you. You can feel unsafe. The fisher chirped in his mind, writhing around in his lip like some kind of possessed tube sock.

"So why'd you get a f*cking cat?" Wilbur at least had the decency to look a bit upset by how hard Tommy flinched away from his voice. He tried to pretend he didn't, instead continuing to eat.

The brunette was still leaning against the entrance to the kitchen, staring through him. Techno had plopped a glass of water in front of him before sitting across the table. The pinkette wasn't trying to make eye contact, instead glancing around at random things in the room.

"Don't be a dick. This is your fault." Tommy felt himself shrink in on himself, assuming that Techno was directing it at him.

"I told you it was a f*cking accident." The bite in Wilbur's tone was gone. In fact, he sounded like he was actually ashamed of himself. Which he probably wasn't.

I will fight the tall boy if he nears. Tommy almost choked on the wad of cheese and bread in his mouth, not expecting them to just up and threaten anyone.

It was funnier considering that he was still absentmindedly stroking their fur to calm himself, which was causing them to make some weird growling/purr sound in response.

"It wanted to come home with me." Tommy half-ass explained. What was he supposed to say? That it magically lead him into the woods with a trail of clovers?

"So you brought a wild animal home." Techno's was flat and emotionless as ever, but Tommy still felt like he was being judged. Which was still bullsh*t.

Shall I attack him as well?

Tommy liked the idea of both Techno and Wilbur getting rabies because they were being assholes. But he also was still terrified of both of them in different ways, so he wasn't sure if it was a good idea.

"Don't." He responded, patting their head. He forgot momentarily that he wasn't alone in the room. He did once he saw how they were f*cking looking at him.

"Don't what? Ask you why you went into the f*cking woods? Of all the sh*t you could've done, you decided to be f*cking stupid." Of course Wilbur took it personally. Why would he expect any less from him?

"WILBUR!" Tommy jerked back in his chair, Techno's tone having effectively scared the sh*t out of him. He sounded like he was about to deck one of them. Which DIDN'T help to calm his nerves.

Tommy suddenly wanted to puke. Why were they both so f*cking loud?! Techno hadn’t even yelled at him, and he felt like he was going to pass the f*ck out. Why was he so f*cking-

He didn’t realize they weren’t in his lap until he realized what the black thing on the table was. They had puffed themself up, and were hissing at both Techno and Wilbur. Which was upsetting one a lot more than the other.

I will not let them bring harm. They chirped in his mind, probably having sensed his distress with cat magic or something. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to cry because it was thoughtful, or because his only ally was the f*cking wild animal.

“Get your f*cking cat, gremlin.” The venom in Wilbur’s tone didn’t fully distract from the fact that he was definitely hiding behind Techno. The other boy had responded much calmer. All he had done was pick the glass up before they had a chance to knock it over.

“Keep insulting him, and see if that calms it down.” Techno barked, thankfully turning over his shoulder. Not that Tommy wouldn’t still assume that it was directed at him with the state he was in.

“What do you know?” Wilbur spat, despite still inching his way out of the kitchen. He looked like he was about to bolt, his gaze focused on the ball of fuzzy anger on the table. They could apparently make horrible sounds when they wanted to.

“I know that I’m telling Phil what you did.” Techno spat, finally matching his brother’s tone. His usually tone was filled with f*cking rage and Tommy was scared.

“Why would you tell Phil?” Wilbur sounded a lot less ballsy than he had before. Between his brother and the angry cat, he was outnumbered.

“What’re we not telling me?”

Chapter 51

Chapter Text

Tommy really, really wanted to puke. Wilbur was pissed off, Techno was still yelling, and Phil was staring at him like he had just grown a second head. He didn't have time to react before he was suddenly hugging him to his chest. He really wanted to puke.

"f*ck!" Tommy was confused as to why Phil cursed and moved away from him. Until the fisher was back in his lap, spitting and hissing at the man.

I will stop him. They promised, their fur sticking up to the point that they looked like they had been blow-dried. He didn't have a chance to say anything before they dove forward to bite someone. Someone turned out to be Phil.

"What- What the f*ck is that sh*t?!" Phil was holding his (bleeding) elbow to his chest, but somehow ended up addressing Techno and Wil? Which was fine, since Tommy didn't want to f*cking talk to him.

"We found him here with the cat." Techno explained, still pushed away from the table from when he was threatening Wilbur. He hadn't gotten up, though. He was just sitting with his arms crossed.

"He probably just snuck in to f*cking worry-" Wilbur's bitching was cut off by a look from Phil that Tommy couldn't completely see.

He normally would've enjoyed the brunette getting his ass chewed out, but he was tired. He also felt like sh*t. The only thing grounding him was the pile of fur in his lap.

You need sleep. It is very late. I will silence them. It threatened. Tommy wasn't sure what exactly they meant, but he could make an educated guess.

"We're going to bed." He sounded a lot more miserable than he originally intended, his voice coming out as more of an unsteady whine. Why was he so pathetic?

"You're- Tommy, where'd you get that dog? It might be diseased, we can't keep it." Phil stopped glaring at his eldest long enough to pretend to focus on him. He felt his expression souring. Maybe he should focus on parenting Wilbur since he was turning out so sh*tty .

"I- It found me. Does it f*cking matter?" He spat. He knew that it did, in fact, matter. Especially since it looked like he just brought a wild f*cking animal home with him. Maybe he could bullsh*t to try and convince them that it was his magic?

He was too tired to lie well.

"Yes? Tommy, we live in the WOODS. You could get rabies. Or lymes." Now Phil was just making sh*t up. LIMES weren't a disease. They were a f*cking FRUIT.

"They don't have rabies! Your f*cking son has rabies." Getting pissed off was helping to settle his stomach for some reason, so he was going to roll with it. Especially since Wilbur made a stupid noise when he pointed at him.

"What do you mean? What did he DO?" Phil was suddenly not focused on him again, which he was grateful for. The guy wasn't even LOOKING at him, and he felt like he was being threatened.

"I didn't do sh*t." Wilbur sounded like he was lying. He also looked like he was lying. Even if Tommy couldn't read social cues like he did, he could tell the guy was basically pissing himself.

"Yes you did." Techno looked like he was going to hop out of his chair at any moment, glaring holes in the table instead of twisting himself around to direct it at his brother.

"Wilbur Soot Watson, tell me exactly what you f*cking did ." Tommy would've taken a second to consider how sh*t of a middle name that was if he wasn't sure that he was about to watch Phil beat the sh*t out of his kid.

Hopefully that wouldn't include him.

---

Phil seemed to realize that he was still in the f*cking room , and decided to let him go to bed with the fish cat thing. He was sure that he was going to get a sh*t amount of sleep, but he was still tired enough that he didn't totally give a sh*t.

They are loud. I can silence them. Forever. They were right, even if they were basically threatening to murder the people he was living with. Again. He would’ve been more concerned about how homicidal they apparently were if he wasn’t tired.

"I know they're loud. I don't care." He didn't technically care. He was more terrified of the muffled yelling happening on the floor below him. He wasn't even in his bed and they were going at it.

Would... Would Wilbur pull a knife on Phil for yelling at him? Would he pull a knife on Tommy for getting him in trouble in the first place?! His mouth suddenly felt a lot dryer than before.

He made sure to lock his door for the night.

---

Tommy surprisingly didn't have that bad of a night. Outside of the occasional twitching of the literal animal he was holding, an animal with very sharp claws, he felt refreshed. He only woke up from his jumble of relaxing dreams because of something prodding his face.

He didn’t feel like total sh*t, either. Which was weird, since he was running on what must’ve been less than five hours of sleep. Not that he was used to being well rested.

Wake. Bathing time. That’s what was jabbing his nose. Apparently he was taking too long to react, because they started to outright jump on his chest. For being small enough to carry around and sh*t, they managed to knock the wind out of him.

“f*ck- Okay! I’ll go shower. Jesus, get the f*ck off or I can’t.” His tone didn’t have it’s usual bite to it. He was also practically grinning like an idiot as well, which was a sure sign that he wasn’t actively trying to be a douchebag.

He briefly wondered it was the reason people with pets were happier. They definitely seemed to enjoy stuff more. Or maybe it was because he got to wake up knowing that he actually had someone on his side in the f*cking hell house he was trapped in.

They hopped off of his chest, and decided to disappear underneath his bed. He didn’t question it. Actually, since they mentioned it, he realized that he hadn’t actually washed himself since he got to the Watson household.

He wouldn’t admit it, but he was a bit grateful that Phil made him get his own soap and sh*t. He wasn’t about to go and leave any of his stuff in the bathroom, but he still had it. Which was kind of nice?

Tommy could see that the sun was just barely starting to rise between the trees, the shreds of light creeping through the branches just enough to illuminate his path to the bathroom.

It felt like he was going to have a good day.

Chapter 52

Chapter Text

Tommy was in the middle of brushing his teeth when the fisher burst into the bathroom. They slammed into the door with enough force that it bounced off of his side, almost knocking the brush from his mouth. He ended up stabbing himself in the roof of the mouth from how his elbow caught the edge of the door, nearly gagging himself.

“What the f*ck!” Tommy spat, running his tongue over the sore spot on the top of his mouth. It was definitely sore. Could you even bruise your mouth? He was going to find the f*ck out now, wasn’t he?

You need to be safe. I cannot travel with. Tommy was about to ask what they meant, but it quickly hit him that they were probably right. He couldn’t exactly walk into the high school with a f*cking wild animal. He was so sure that it was the type of sh*t to get him f*cking expelled. Which unfortunately wouldn’t be that bad for him even if it was only his fourth day. There wasn’t a lot he could do to break a half an hour record without trying.

I have a spell to teach you. Immediately snapped him out of his thoughts, making him focus on the riled up ball of fur dancing at his feet. The pain in his mouth was soon forgotten as he practically dropped to his knees, trying to get closer to their level as if it would urge them to talk.

“Like, an actual f*cking spell?” He felt like a child getting a new bike, trying to wrap his head around the sheer f*cking excitement he was feeling.

Yes. Follow me. They chirped, stomping themselves down before bolting out of the bathroom with as much enthusiasm as they used to enter. They probably went faster considering that there wasn’t a door in their way.

Tommy almost went on his face with how fast he tried to follow behind them. He didn’t really care if he woke any up with his stomping. Maybe he wouldn’t be so excited if Phil had bothered to teach him something at some point.

Hopefully it would be something that he could use against Phil. The guy was clearly unable to parent his own f*cking kids. Anything Tommy could use to get him or Wilbur to back the f*ck off would be amazing .

This. Take it. They chirped, bouncing around something near the bedpost closest to the door. Upon further inspection, Tommy could see that they scratched the f*ck out of it. He felt the bile rise in his throat as he immediately assumed that Phil would beat his ass once he saw it.

The mark of the unseen. Use it to keep them away from your mind. They either didn’t notice his crisis, or they ignored it in favor of trying to distract him from the f*cking property damage. Honestly, how did they f*cking manage that?! They were so small!

“I’m going to get in so much f*cking trouble, you bitch.” His tone was more apathetic as he sat back on his legs, shooting a glance over at them. They were staring through him, beady little eyes full of emotion that he couldn’t distinguish.

The mark. Look, please. Tommy redirected his attention to the mess of teeth and claw marks, trying to figure out what he was supposed to be looking at. Honestly, it just looked like they decided to make the bed frame an improvised scratching post.

Until he looked closer, taking in where the deeper gouges overlapped on each other. It looked like a crude drawing of an eye with a deep wound dug through the center of it, splitting the iris. There were two slimmer gouges underneath the main eye on either side.

The unforeseen. To remain hidden from those who see too much. The fisher chirped, scooting closer to bump their snout into his hand. He let his fingers glide through their fur as he studied the mark.

“What do I do with it?” Tommy could tell it did something. The longer he stared at it, the longer he felt like something was missing from his mind. Like he knew it, even though it was completely foreign to him.

He didn’t realize his hand had left their fur until he felt his fingers tracing over the crude gouges in the woods, feeling them under his skin. He really felt like he knew it somehow. The mark seemed to catch the light, flashing at him.

Copy it and believe in it. Put it in your sock. They seemed sure of their suggestion. Tommy trusted the mark with everything he had. He wasn’t sure if it was because of the buzzing under his fingertips, or their assurance that it would keep him safe.

“I’m not putting it in my f*cking sock .”

---

Tommy ended up copying it down on a sticky note, shoving the piece of paper deep into his pocket. He also traced it on his shoulder with a sharpie, just to be sure. He was sure that he had f*cked it up somehow. But even if he had, it sent an odd buzzing through his skin that made him feel oddly secure.

He believed them. He believed in the mark he had in his pocket and printed across his skin. It was the only thing he had to do according to them, and he didn’t have to force anything into it. It felt right .

He had to go downstairs for breakfast eventually. He could smell the sausage and some kind of potato cooking. As much as he could hope, he knew better than to expect Phil to suddenly not want to feed him.

Tommy cradled the fisher to his chest, and got ready to swing his door open. The handle was ripped from him and a surprised Wilbur was suddenly in his face. They stared at each other for what felt like f*cking hours . He could feel the brunette picking apart his expression.

I can destroy the stick man. Rang through his head, which had him forcing down a burst of laughter. f*ck, everything was so much better with them around.

“Whatcha’ want, stick bitch?” He was going to assume the weird snoring noise he got was some kind of weird cat laugh. They seemed to find him relaying their insult funny. Which it f*cking was.

“Shut up.” Wilbur spat, his eyes darkening for a moment. Tommy waited for a moment, not understanding the wave of different emotions that went across the older boy’s face. He seemed angry, then scared, and then confused.

“The f*ck’s your deal?” Tommy spat in a tone to match Wil’s. He heard another noise he assumed was some form of amusem*nt from them.

He tried to sway you. The realization hit him like a punch in the gut. Wilbur seriously tried to do that to him? After all the sh*t he caused yesterday? Tommy might’ve ran, but he wasn’t the one that got into someone else’s f*cking head.

The excitement was quickly overpowering the disgust he was feeling. He just f*cking ignored Wilbur’s magic bullsh*t! The pleasant buzzing coming from the sharpie on his skin made his stomach pool with warmth.

“N-Nothing. Breakfast.” Wilbur seemed to back off almost immediately, all the anger from his expression falling away. He shuffled out of Tommy’s way, tripping on himself in a way that made the blond feel f*cking important .

The mark stops the pale one’s abilities as well. It will halt the man’s as well. They promised, the chorus singing the reassurance to him. He made his way past Wilbur, ignoring the eyes burning into the back of his head. For once, he could do so confidently .

“Phil said he just sees emotions.” Tommy wasn’t sure if he believed it, but it would be nice to have as much privacy as possible after the f*cking disaster of yesterday.

He lies. Prying without intent is still prying. He had no idea what they meant with that. All he knew is that they basically used his chest as a springboard to launch off of his chest, knocking the wind out of him from the force.

They immediately began circling his usual chair, seemingly investigating something around the legs of it. They gave him a nod that he didn’t f*cking understand, pushing themselves between the legs of the chair like an animated sock.

It is safe. The pink one is suspicious.

Tommy almost laughed at that, but he didn’t want Phil to know that the f*cking cat he brought home could talk . The man already wanted to keep him away from whatever f*ckery happened, and he was sure that the fisher would be stripped away from him if the whole ‘speaking’ part was somehow brought to light.

Standing in the doorway, he realized something. Staring at the back of the green bathrobe Phil apparently slept in, he could see that the man hadn’t noticed him. He had gotten so used to being greeted before he could announce his presence that it was oddly calming to not be noticed right away.

It hit him barely a moment later why Phil hadn’t greeted him yet. The humming from the mark sprawled across his shoulder made it obscenely obvious. They were f*cking right .

The mark was stopping Phil from getting into his head.

“Mornin’.” Techno grunted, the noise reverberating off of the inside of his mug that he had been chugging something from. Tommy was surprised that he wasn’t choking considering that he was practically dumping it into his mouth.

“What- Tommy!” Phil masked his confusion with a smile fast enough that Tommy almost didn’t see it. Almost.

“You feeling alright?” Phil’s tone was friendly enough, but the sharpie mark felt like it was about to vibrate off of his f*cking skin. The feeling passed almost as fast as it came, and he watched the man physically recoil.

So it did work on him. That meant that it would probably work on Eret, too. That meant that his mind would be his . f*ck, he felt like crying. The sappy, alligator tear, hallmark Christmas movie type of f*cking cry.

“I’m feeling great , Phil.”

Chapter 53

Chapter Text

Breakfast was tense. Tommy felt the mark f*cking burn more than once, which he assumed to be Phil trying to poke around his head. The man had sat down and begun eating, leaving no visual cues as to what he was doing.

He wouldn't have believed it was even him doing it if there wasn't a slight grimace to his expression once the buzzing stopped. As much as it was actually causing him pain, it was working.

The thing he didn't get is why Wilbur hadn't caused him pain. Phil couldn't have been stronger than Wilbur. Well, he probably was physically. But Wilbur also had the body structure of a girl's doll, so he was sure that anyone could have accomplished that.

He did apparently have the grip strength of a gorilla, though. Which Tommy didn't fully understand. He was pulled out of his jumble of theories by someone clearing their throat. Looking up, it was Wilbur.

"I'm sorry." It sounded timid and almost.... true. The brunette had been skittish all morning, like some kind of beaten up squirrel. He flinched away from anyone's gaze and seemed to actually eat his food without any kind of sickeningly sweet additives.

"Okay." What the f*ck was he supposed to respond with? He wasn't going to accept Wilbur's apology just because the f*cker looked like he wanted to cry.

Wilbur didn't deserve his pity.

---

The rest of breakfast was relatively calm. The stiff silence was a nice break from whatever horrible small talk that Phil normally tried to start. The man not speaking was a nice change of pace. Especially since the friendliness was probably bullsh*t. He had the residual ache in his shoulder to prove it.

Due to his morning, he wasn't as bitchy when Tubbo threw himself into the seat beside him.

"'ello big man." Tommy greeted, keeping the side of his face pressed into the window. Until he didn't get a response.

He peeled his face off of the glass, and turned to see what the f*ck the guy's problem was. Tubbo was staring at him way too intensely, like he was trying to catch his head on fire with sheer force of will.

"The f*cks your issue?" He spat, not sure why he was getting that look. Tubbo was smaller than him, and overall less threatening in pretty much every way. But the look he was getting made him feel like he was about to get his sh*t rocked.

"We're friends now." What the f*ck? Tubbo was looking at him like a psychopath because he f*cking greeted him? The guy acted like he never interacted with another human before.

"Didn't you say that already?"

Tubbo's expression did a complete 180, which was somehow worse. He looked like he was losing his f*cking mind. Which wasn't typical Thursday behavior. For him, at least.

"Trust me. Anyways, I'm assuming you're doing better since you're less of a bitch?" Tommy snorted at his question. f*ck, Tubbo was a goddamn rollercoaster of a person. But at least he wasn't f*cking magic.

"I'm doing f*cking amazing." As sarcastic as it sounded, he wasn't lying. He was doing the best he had since he was thrown into the hell hole that was the Watson household.

Out of all the sh*t places he had been trapped in, he could confidently say that they were the worst. He could handle getting beat, he could handle getting starved, and he could handle living with actual sexual predators. None of those skills applied to f*cking magic.

"That's good! Eret said you weren't feeling good after we played yesterday. They wouldn't tell me why." Tubbo seemed oblivious to his expression dropping at the mention of Eret. Which was good because he didn't want to f*cking talk about them. They sucked.

"Yeah." Tommy wanted to make some backhanded comment that they were the reason he felt like sh*t. To be fair, Wilbur was too. Old people just kept f*cking him up yesterday.

"So what did you think of Ranboo? He gets awkward, but he's really cool once you get to know him. He does magic!" Tubbo didn't pause his rambling once the horror spread across Tommy's face, but he kind of wish he had.

"He f*cking what?" He felt like puking again. f*ck, why couldn't he catch a goddamn break? Eret had made it sound like Ranboo could do sh*t, but Tubbo even f*cking knew?!

"Oh yeah, he knows all kinds of card tricks!"

---

Besides Tubbo giving him a f*cking heart attack, Tommy found that the guy wasn't actually that insufferable. Mostly. He did say offhanded weird sh*t a lot, but it might've just been his personality. But again, at least Tubbo wasn't f*cking magic.

Their morning classes together were spent mostly chatting about random sh*t. Discussing the overly fat honeybee he apparently stumbled across was a nice break from the magic f*ckery that kept getting thrown into his face.

"You should come over sometime . I think you'd like the garden I have going. It's pretty great." Tubbo had started rambling about whatever plants he was apparently growing, which Tommy caught about a third of.

"I have a good bit going through the woods in our backyard, which Eret bitches about. It's not my fault they're allergic to everything. I think the woods are great." Caught his attention a lot more.

"You go in the woods? Like, just for the f*ck of it?" Tommy's only experience hadn't been what everyone seemed to try and convince him of. The rope cat he found had done more to make sure he stayed safe than Phil had bothered to.

"Oh yeah! Eret doesn't like when I do. But I've found some really cool stuff. I think you'd like my secret hideout." Tubbo seemed to think that whatever fort he had was the coolest thing ever. Which was funny considering that they were in f*cking high school and he thought a pile of sticks in the woods was some kind of flex.

"What kind of cool sh*t could you possibly find in the woods?" Tommy was pretty sure that his magic f*cking cat guardian was cooler than whatever shape of acorn that Tubbo had stumbled across.

The quiet he got in response made him sure that his whispering wasn't heard, so he scribbled it down just to be safe before slipping it over. It was crumpled up before the guy even bothered to read it. Which was f*cking rude.

"I just have to show you."

Chapter 54

Chapter Text

Tubbo was being weird and cryptic as sh*t, but not in an overbearing way. Tommy found that actually speaking to the guy was mildly entertaining in comparison to giving one word answers and sarcastic remarks. Tubbo wasn’t as annoying as he seemed at first. Mostly.

Tommy ended up being in a relatively good mood by the time he got to his English class. He wasn’t sure if he even knew what they were doing in class, but he was sure that it wasn’t anything important. Nick was right about it being easy.

Speaking of, Nick was basically vibrating in his seat when Tommy sat beside him. He wasn’t sure what the guy had possibly gotten into. Probably cocaine or some sh*t.

“I need your help.” Was the first thing out of the brunette’s mouth once Tommy got himself settled beside him. He kept glancing around like he was doing something he f*cking shouldn’t have been. Which he probably was.

“What’s up, big man?” Tommy was more willing to deal with whatever f*ckery Nick had conjured up since he was in a good mood. Plus, it would probably be interesting.

“Okay, so I need you to follow me to the bathroom. Meet me in the one near the cafeteria.” Tommy was suddenly a lot less willing to go with whatever the f*ck the older boy wanted to do. Getting him secluded and sh*t was sketchy as f*ck.

Nick had gotten to his feet and excused himself before Tommy had a chance to respond. The blond watched him take his whole ass bag with him on his way out the door.

What the f*ck was he doing?

---

Tommy had to tell the teacher he needed to go to his locker since he was told that only one person could go to the bathroom at a time. Which was honestly a pretty stupid rule. It wasn’t like only one person would have to piss at any given time. It didn’t matter, since he was on his way to see what Nick wanted.

He pushed the door open, and almost got his arm f*cking crushed as the guy threw his weight into it. He was slowly growing more concerned as he watched him lock the f*cking door. Maybe he was wrong about Nick not being a f*cking creep.

“Okay, so Karl was supposed to help me with this. We’ve planned it for a whole week, yeah?” Nick started talking as he made his way to the sinks, digging through his bad as he spoke. “But then he goes and misses a day, so he’s busy making up a test like a loser.”

Tommy had no idea what the f*ck he was talking about. He leaned himself against the space between the two mounted paper towel dispensers, watching the older boy closely. Why did he have f*cking notebooks? They looked like the kind that little girls got for holidays. The ones full of stickers and sh*t.

“Gogy was being a douche, you know? But he’s colorblind.” Nick finally looked up at him, proud of his collection of sh*t Tommy didn’t recognize. He did notice what looked like a box of food coloring, though.

“And?” Nick had paused to fight with the box of what was in fact food coloring, since apparently the concept of a safety seal sticker eluded him. He looked up at Tommy, pausing from try to chew the f*cking box open.

“Open this. And it means that we can switch the sh*t in his makeup palettes, and he won’t notice.” Tommy was handed the f*ckking chewed on box. f*ck, Nick was like a goddamn dog. He just flipped it over and opened it from the bottom. Where there wasn’t a sticker seal.

He ignored the look of blank amazement he got as he passed it back over. f*ck, was this guy actually stupid? Maybe it wouldn’t be a good idea to try and set him up with Techno. Techno didn’t seem like a dog person.

“But also, like, I can do fire sh*t.” Nick paused his sorting of the little plastic squeeze bottles to make eye contact, his expression hardening.

“The f*ck is that supposed to mean?” Tommy also knew how to use a lighter. It wasn’t really something worth bragging about. f*ck, maybe Nick actually was an idiot. Like, medically stupid. He knew that was a thing.

“Just-” Nick rolled his eyes, setting down his assortment of food dyes. He snatched a paper towel out of the machine Tommy was pretty much pressed against, waving it at him. Tommy watched as he held up his other hand, inspecting his movements.

Nick’s fingers caught on f*cking fire, bright orange flames licking up his fingertips like he was some kind of human lighter. He held them close to the paper towel, the fire f*cking spreading.

“Clay said not to tell you, but I don’t know why. I know Mr. Watson does weird sh*t, so I’m sure you knew.” Nick kept talking like he wasn’t holding a f*cking fireball. f*ck.

Nick was one of them. Clay was too, by the sounds of it. Was everyone in their f*cking friend group magic? Why couldn’t he f*cking escape it?!

“Anyways, I need a second person for this. I need you to pry the little disk part out once I heat up the glue holding it in.” Nick was still holding the paper, the fire having eaten it down to a splash of orange embers flashing across itself as they cooled.

“So your f*cking magic?” Tommy wasn’t ready to change f*cking topics. Why did this keep happening to him?

“What? Yeah! It’s pretty cool. You don’t have to tell me what you do. I know some of that stuff’s pretty private.” Nick was smiling, clearly unbothered by what he f*cking was. Was it not normal to be upset about it?

f*ck. It sounded like something that would normally excite someone his age. Like some sh*t from a novel series about teens. Was he really so f*cked up that he couldn’t even enjoy something that clearly didn’t bother everyone else?

“Yeah, private.”

---

Nick’s plan turned out to be a lot f*cking harder than he made it sound. Seriously, what was that guy thinking? The metal sheet the little discs of color powder were glued to was covered in a layer of cardboard, and the idiot really just tried to heat the adhesive inside up from the outside.

Thankfully Tommy was much better at doing sh*t he shouldn’t have. He showed Nick how to pry up the little discs with the flathead screwdriver he had been provided. He then had the older boy heat the glue still stuck on the bottom up so they could swap them out with each other.

He had fun. Even as he worried that he was being selfish for hating everything to do with the magic powers bullsh*t, even as he watched with envy as Nick conjured inhumane heat like it was second nature, even as he realized that other people weren’t upset with what they could do. He still enjoyed himself.

Mixing green and red into what was supposed to be some kind of tinted lip gloss turned out to also be fun. Tommy didn’t know a lot about makeup, but he did know about what ratio of food coloring would stain the longest.

Tommy didn’t know this George guy too well, but he went all out. He even showed Nick that mixing the green food coloring didn’t change the color of what he assumed to be mascara, but it did make it smear a fugly green the second any kind of liquid went over it.

“See? This sh*t says it’s waterproof so it’s oil, but the dyes water based, right? So it sits on top.” It was the same concept that applied to regular paints and spray paints, which was something he had a good amount of experience in. Though, most spray paints were actually alcohol based.

“Damn, that’s so cool! You really know your stuff.” Nick... Wasn’t that bad. He was kind of a moron, sure. But he seemed warm. Which was a bit ironic since he was apparently some kind of magical pyromaniac. A magical pyromaniac that used his abilities for mischief, which Tommy could respect.

But, he made magic look a lot less terrifying.

Chapter 55

Chapter Text

Tommy had fun with Nick. The older boy took longer to get back to class because he apparently had to stash the make up sh*t back into George’s locker, but the teacher either didn’t care or didn’t notice.

Not that Tommy was complaining that the teacher was a complete pushover. He was practically vibrating in his seat from the adrenaline that was still in his system, his fingers bouncing off of his desk loudly. A more observant adult might’ve taken issue with his behavior and bitched at him.

He had done normal pranks and sh*t before, sure. He used to terrorize the group home for years with his mischief and contraptions. The only reason he stopped was because the other kids started taking their anger out on him, and he quickly realized that the ‘caregivers’ wouldn't bother to stop them.

But using magic for something that wasn't horrible was something he was just getting to learn about. Phil would patch him up and sh*t, but it wasn't the same since it was usually his fault that Tommy got hurt in the first goddamn place. Him or his f*cking kids.

Tommy stared at the words on the board, half-ass copying down what was supposed to be vocab. He didn't acknowledge Nick once he burst back into the room. There was no reason to assume they had been doing anything bad, but he knew that being suspicious wouldn't help.

"George's going to piss himself once he finds out what we did!"

---

Tommy eventually got Nick to shut the f*ck up. For apparently doing sh*t like that all the time, he had horrible etiquette for it. Screaming at the top of your lungs about whatever prank you just pulled was how you got caught. And Nick sure was loud.

He also seemed like he wanted to tell anyone and everyone who would bother to listen to him. Which again, was how you got f*cking caught. Nick kept exceeding his expectations for how much of a goddamn idiot he was.

Thankfully he got a moment of peace once the bell for lunch rang, since he would have a chance to not sit directly beside the guy for another period. Nick was friendly and all, but he was also loud.

Was that how people felt when talking to him? If it was, then it would explain why people usually hated him. f*ck, why did people like Nick then? It was probably because he wasn’t also an asshole on top of being loud as all hell. He didn’t want to think about that.

Tommy was pulled out of his self-loathing by someone grabbing his hand and quite literally dragging him out of the hallway. He wasn’t sure where he was going, or who was pulling him in the opposite direction of the cafeteria.

Once the crowd of people broke around them, he could see that it was f*cking Eret. His blood ran cold as he tried to keep his panic to himself. The mark scribbled on his shoulder wasn’t burning like it had with Phil, but there was definitely a slight tingling that made it apparent that they were doing something.

They were in the backend of a hallway, with no windows or doors on either side. The only door probably went to a supply closet, but Tommy would bet anything that there wasn’t anyone in there. Which meant that he was all alone and cornered.

“So what did you do?” Eret was leaning against the wall down from where he was, where he had apparently pressed himself into a literal corner. He felt sick all of a sudden.

“The f*ck you mean?” Tommy’s voice was thankfully more confident than he felt. Swearing made him feel like less of a pushover.

“You know what I mean. I wouldn’t be asking, Tommy.” He knew exactly what they meant.

But the thing was, they didn't know that he knew. Because they couldn't see into his goddamn head. The growing anxiety quickly crumbled in on itself as he realized that he wasn't the one in the dark. Eret f*cking was.

"Why's it matter, big guy? Miss peeking in some kids f*cking head? Plenty of other poor bitches for you to violate the privacy of 'n sh*t." Tommy straightened his back, leaning against the wall instead of pressing himself into the corner like a beaten dog.

"That's not- You did something. You didn't know anything yesterday, and now you're doing things you shouldn't." Eret's composure was cracking, and it felt exhilarating to not be the one out of the loop and confused.

"Shouldn't? So you're saying you're the f*cking FBI and sh*t and have to watch my thoughts? You think you're the only one I'm keeping out of my f*cking head?"

Eret physically recoiled from his words, their mouth falling as they stepped back from him. He could see their brows furrowing from where they peeked up over their glasses. It felt so nice to have the upper hand in an argument. He didn't realize how much he missed the control it gave him. Being scared all the time sucked.

"Tommy, you don't know anything." He wanted to scoff. He clearly figured something out. "There's a lot that could hurt you because of it."

"You didn't seem too f*cking concerned about me yesterday." He spat, genuinely relaxing against the cool brick of the wall behind him. Arguing was nice. It was familiar.

Eret just made a face at him, like they didn't know what he was talking about. "Is this about Ranboo?" They had to f*cking ask? After the state they f*cking left him in?

"Oh, I don't know. Maybe you should learn to fix your problems without f*cking with people's privacy." Tommy's tone was sharp despite his growing smile. f*ck, he was enjoying this. Maybe a bit too much.

"You don't understand, Tommy." Eret sounded actually desperate. Like they were f*cking pleading with him. Like they were going to cry.

"I can wrap my head around the concept of favorites, actually."

Eret looked guilty for a split second, but it quickly dropped as they turned to direct their gaze away from him. “I’m not picking favorites, you don’t know what-”

“But you know how much you f*cked my sh*t up, yeah? That didn’t really seem to stop you, big man.” The way they recoiled from his words stretched his grin wider across his face. It felt good.

“Tommy, he really doesn’t have it well at home.” Their tone was unsteady, like their voice was about to break at any point. He hoped it f*cking did. Just like his did the day before.

“Oh, damn! I couldn’t imagine what that feels like. I’m so sorry I ever thought it was sh*tty he was cheating.” The sarcasm felt nice. Being mean felt nice. And f*ck, if Eret retreating from him didn’t sweeten it more.

They had the nerve to try and put distance between them? After they dragged him away into a corner? They had fully intended to f*cking interrogate him, and yet they were trying to get away from the mess they made.

“I’m serious, you don’t know what that poor kid is going through. It’s his one night out a week and-” He cut them off, pushing off the wall to pursue them as they tried to further the distance between them. They weren’t getting away from what they f*cking did.

“I think I do f*cking know, actually. You know that, if I can recall. I, of all f*cking people, should know. Isn’t that what you f*cking told me?” Eret seemed to freeze in place, no longer shuffling backwards down the hall in some pitiful attempt to avoid the argument they started.

“You haven’t been through what he has, and it’s not-” It felt so nice to cut them off, knowing that they probably weren’t used to it. It felt nice to yell.

“I haven’t been through it? I haven’t been hit? You’ve been in my head and you have the f*cking balls to tell me I don’t know what getting my ass beat is like?!”

Eret looked like they wanted to run, which made Tommy f*cking happy. Not a light, giddy happy he got from normal sh*t. The kind he had gotten from helping Nick out with his prank on George. The disgusting, warped kind that made him buzz with excitement. The kind that made him wonder if he was as bad as he was told for enjoying it.

The kind that made him feel like he was in control.

“That’s not what I meant! Ranboo isn’t safe and he- It’s not what you’ve- That’s not how-” Eret was stumbling over themself as they spoke, seemingly grasping at straws as they tried to rationalize their argument.

“You can tell me I haven’t been abused and can’t even tell me why the f*ck he’s so much better at it? Is it because I don’t f*cking cry? ‘Cause I can do that too. You probably f*cking saw that, didn’t you?” Tommy didn’t realize he had been getting so close until he was in their face, the inches in height burning his neck as he glared up at them.

“You’re safe and- Phil doesn’t f*cking hit you!” They finally spat out, seemingly defeated as they slumped in on themself. They refused to look anywhere near him, instead focusing their attention on the ground between them.

“I’ve felt a lot safer with the f*ckers that beat me, actually.”

Chapter 56

Chapter Text

Eret looked... horrified. The moments of silence that followed his last statement made it feel like time had paused. He could've assumed that Eret could also freeze time and sh*t if his own breath wasn't loud in his ears. The quiet was honestly suffocating.

Tommy watched their expression twist, like they were realizing something. Which was stupid, since they had already been in his f*cking head. What could they have possibly missed? They would've seen everything. None of what he was saying would've been new information.

He could feel the tingling on the mark. It was pretty much the only way he could tell if someone was trying to get into his head. Honestly, it was a bit concerning how oblivious he was to it earlier. It happened a lot.

"Go get food."

Tommy almost didn't hear them speak. It sounded like they were trying to choke down a lump in their throat. For as excited as he was a moment ago to make them cry, he was suddenly aware that he didn't actually want to deal with that.

"The f*ck?" They were just arguing back with him. Why did they stop? Why did they suddenly care if he stopped? Why did he care?

"Lunch is almost over. You need to go eat. Please." It sounded like they were begging. Actually, desperately pleading with him.

He suddenly felt a lot worse than he did before. Any of the residual excitement he got from arguing was quickly replaced with guilt as he realized that he almost made Tubbo's older br- sibling cry. He almost made a grown ass bitch cry. Which was pretty f*cked up now that he realized what he was doing.

Tommy left before he had to see if tears did start falling.

---

Tommy didn't get more than a few steps into the cafeteria before everything seemed to stop before him. It was like everyone made a point to turn around in their seat to look at him. Which was fair considering he was absent for most of the period.

The lunch ladies also gave him weird looks, but thankfully didn't mention anything. Everyone thankfully seemed to have lost interest by the time he had gotten through the line. The table where Tubbo was talking with his hands was mostly empty, so he decided that it was probably the best option.

"-f*cking wasps! Who knew they could get into a blender? Tommy!" Tubbo stopped whatever insane ramblings he was in the middle of to turn his entire body around.

"Where were you? Did you get lost?" Tommy barely got his ass on the bench before he was already speaking again. It was like he didn't have to f*cking inhale.

"Got busy." He felt bad not giving any kind of response, but he was a bit more concerned with seeing how fast he could shove cheap fries in his mouth.

"Slow down before you choke." Someone he definitely did not recognize the voice of spoke up, and Tommy was suddenly aware that he was eating like an actual animal.

Looking up, it was some brunette that had probably been there for Nikki. Tubbo's older sister looked like she was trying to hold back her laughter as well. He probably should've checked who else would've been there before he plopped himself down like he did.

"Puffy's right, Tommy. You should chew." Nikki was definitely almost laughing at him. It didn't seem to be in a malicious way, though. If she had a brother, she should be used to sh*t like this.

"Don't got time to chew." Trying to speak made it clear that his mouth was full, so he just hoped for the best and assumed that they could understand him.

It wasn't like he was wrong. There were probably five minutes left before the bell rang and they all would have to leave. Which would mean dumping his tray. Unless he felt like shoving cold fries into his pockets, of course.

"I forgot to tell you! Eret said you could come over whenever, so long as you ask. They said you wouldn't be told no." Tubbo went right back to speaking, seemingly as energetic as ever.

The mention of Eret made him slow his inhalation of potato wedges. He pretty much just bitched them out, and Tubbo didn't even know. Would they tell him? Would they tell Nikki? The idea of them ratting him out to f*cking Phil made him feel sick.

He swallowed what was left in his mouth and decided to poke at whatever he hadn't manage to get down. f*ck, would Phil be mad? The man didn't seem happy with him for the mark in the first place. Even though he didn't know about the mark.

"You can also go there if you have a ride back." Nikki chimed in, her voice sounding a lot nicer than what was rattling around his brain.

"Oh yeah! I'm allowed at your house! Eret said that Mr. Phil wouldn't be any trouble. Isn't that great?" Tubbo looked like he was practically vibrating in his seat, grinning like the oblivious idiot that he was.

Hopefully Eret was right.

---

The rest of the day was most just a cycle of trying to choke down his growing panic. Eret was definitely the type to just call parents and sh*t. The idea of them telling Phil about what he said was f*cking horrifying, even if the man seemed aware already.

What if they went to one of the others? Techno didn't seem like the type to care. If anything, he would probably just avoid mentioning it. But f*cking Wilbur.

Wilbur would probably take it f*cking personally. He already knew what that f*cker thought about him. And what he had been through. The brunette probably couldn't care less if he felt unsafe. He would probably take it personally that he f*cking hated Phil, though.

Did he... hate Phil? It felt weird thinking about it. He definitely didn't trust the f*cker. But outside of that, the poor guy really seemed to be trying his best.

But wasn't it mostly an act? He could remember the ache in his shoulder whenever Phil tried to force his way into his mind. What kind of f*ck up asshole did that to a kid? He would know what he was doing to him then, right?

He would know how much the money being spent would make him uncomfortable. He would know how much he hated how Wilbur would manipulate him. For how much the guy was in his head apparently, he didn't seem too concerned with what he must've found. It wasn't like he thought about these things quietly.

Actually, he wasn't sure. He didn't know how loud his thoughts were. Trying to think loudly just made it so that he could hear a mock screaming of whatever words were rattling around his brain. Maybe it was different because Phil was an empath?

Actually, he wasn't sure what that meant. He was in his computers class, though. It would be the perfect opportunity to look it up. All he had to do was switch tabs whenever the patrolling teacher got close enough to see his screen.

He knew how to be sneaky. He even made sure to throw it into a separate tab just in case. He just had to type it into Google. Which was fine since it knew what he meant even after he butchered the spelling of it.

What he read was practically bullsh*t. If Phil could feel what he was experiencing like the Pinterest collages said he could, why would he just ignore it? Empaths were supposed to be good at reading people. Phil definitely wasn't. Maybe Phil was just bad at reading him. Or maybe he just didn't care.

He couldn't decide how he felt about that.

Chapter 57

Chapter Text

His day was going pretty good. Up until the point Tubbo laughed to hard at something stupid one of them had said, and ended up bouncing off of his shoulder. They had been joking in their last class of the day since the teacher stopped paying attention. Which normally wouldn’t have been a problem, since it was done with next to no actual force. The visceral pain that cut through him almost made him pass out, though.

It felt like there wasn’t any skin over the nerves, and Tubbo had just dragged a jagged spike of rock salt over the gore. It made his vision go blurry for a moment, and he honestly couldn’t tell if he was actually breathing.

He wasn’t sure if he was actually. Or if he really wanted to. It was a completely different type of paint, like something had decided to damage everything down to the f*cking bone.

“Tommy?” Tubbo’s voice cut through the black spots over his vision, making him suddenly aware of why his lungs were screaming at him. He gulped a breath in, ignoring the looks from the other students sitting close enough to hear him.

It helped to fight the blurriness in his vision, but it did nothing for the pain. If anything, it made him more aware of how close he was from tearing up because of the pain coursing through him,

He pretty much ignored the brunette in favor of getting the teacher’s attention, practically sprinting to the bathroom. He tried to hike his sleeve up, but the fabric wouldn’t go further up his elbow than he already had it. He flicked the lock like he had seen Nick do, before just ripping his shirt off.

He stared at himself for a bit, watching how panicked his breathing was. Once his eyes drifted over to the source of his anguish, he found himself retching into the garbage bin. He had to be dreaming.

Once he finished emptying his stomach, he took another look at himself. It looked like something out of a f*cking horror movie. The skin around where he had drawn on himself looked like it had been eaten away, with sickening purple and black flesh rotting away at the edges.

He lifted his other hand, reaching for it. He froze immediately as his fingers hovered over the decaying flesh. It was cold. Unnaturally so. Not that anything that was currently happening was f*cking natural.

He considered puking again, since the burning of acid on his throat was a nice distraction from what was happening to him currently. It was f*cking horrific. Moving, he could see the muscle fibers bending underneath the tissue that had rotted away to the point that it was mostly gone.

He could see where it was torn, and where it split itself. The necrosis had eaten it away to the point that the purple and black flesh wasn’t bleeding. It reminded him of the rotten fruit he had seen, where the skin caves in on itself as the innards turn to slime. Only it was him.

Tommy did end up puking again.

---

Tommy had put his shirt back on and suffered through the rest of class, feeding Tubbo some story about an upset stomach. He knew he was getting snippy, but he had a f*cking reason. He was rotting the f*ck away.

Tubbo seemed a bit upset about him not wanting to go over to his house that night, but he made some sh*t up about an English paper. He knew his lies were pretty sh*t since he was freaking the f*ck out, but Tubbo seemed pretty f*cking oblivious. Which was definitely good for him.

He got off the bus before Techno or Wilbur even had a chance to stand, sprinting as hard as his legs could carry him towards the house. He was not crying. He definitely wouldn’t be crying from a mix of anxiety and horror.

He didn’t get very far before something grabbed his bad shoulder, tearing a visceral scream of pain from him. His vision failed him as the electric feeling of anguish stabbed through him, making him feel like someone was pouring molten lead over every nerve in his left side.

He wasn’t sure how he got on the ground, but Techno was standing over him. His hearing seemed to start back again as he managed to take in his surroundings again. Out of everything he had happen to him, he hadn’t blacked out from pain. Which was terrifying since he had no way to tell how much time would pass when it happened.

Techno shook him again, his hands clamped on both of his arms. The guy was kneeling in the mud, staring down at him with an unfamiliar intensity. He would’ve made a comment about how he was ruining his jeans if his throat wasn’t tightening.

Actually, he could tell that there were tears running down his cheeks. The tightening in his throat was thankfully enough to let him choke back whatever sob was building. It didn’t stop the crying, though.

Techno looked actually concerned, which just worried him more. His original plan had been to sprint into the house and find the weird yellow stuff by himself. He would throw himself down the stairs or something if he had to if not, assuming that one of the older boys would fetch it for him at the first sight of blood.

“You’re rotting.”

He spoke so firmly, his eyes burning into him like broiling rubies. Tommy already knew that, though/ He was aware that his skin was eating away at itself. Most likely because of the mark he had drawn on himself, seeing as it was the only thing that had been distinguishable in the mess of oozing decay that was his shoulder.

Tommy couldn’t do much other than nod. Not that he really wanted to. He was rotting. Because of the mark. The one that the fisher had given to him. The idea of the beast betraying him after he had placed so much trust into it made the pain of his skin eating itself seem like a papercut.

He couldn’t handle them betraying him as well.

Chapter 58

Chapter Text

Tommy felt sick. It was like he was stuck in some kind of demented dream, staring at everything in front of him through a cheap screen peeled off of a desk top from 1997. He might as well have been, seeing as he would’ve been able to distance himself further from the reality of what was happening to him.

Was it even reality? His shoulder was rotting away. He scribbled something on himself with a goddamn Sharpie, and in turn his skin started to eat away at itself. The pain was the only thing keeping him grounded.

“Tommy?” Techno was still talking to him, clearly worried. How much had the guy said to him? How much hadn’t he heard?

“Yeah.” His voice sounded like it was on the verge of breaking along with the rest of him. Which wasn’t that far of a stretch considering that he was already sobbing while sitting in a f*cking mud puddle.

“You’re rotting.”

He didn’t mean to snort, but holding on the bit of sarcasm he had left was the only reason he wasn’t sobbing harder. “You don’t say?” His tone was a lot sharper than it had been before, like the edge to it was the only thing keeping it from crumbling like the rest of him. Literally.

Techno’s face twisted in a way he hadn’t seen before, and he had half a mind to think that the guy was actually concerned about him.

“Can you walk?” Techno changed the subject, which Tommy was a bit grateful for. He probably did it for himself more than Tommy himself, but he would take it either way. He had more important things to focus on than horrible small talk.

Like how his only safety net turned out to be a f*cking fake.

---

Techno apparently took his silence as a ‘no’, so he was practically scooped up by the older boy. Actually, being ‘scooped up’ is exactly what happened to him. He was picked up and held like some kind of f*cking dog that got hit by a car. Which probably would’ve been a kinder end than being speed walked to the porch.

“There you f*cking are! I called Phil already- The f*ck did I miss?” Wilbur had apparently passed them at some point while getting off of the bus, and decided to loiter on the steps.

Tommy flinched away from his voice, but almost instantly regretted it since it just made it seem like he was getting all cuddly with Techo. He had been expecting the mark to start burning again once Wilbur spoke.

Which was probably how he should’ve known all along that something bad was happening. The visceral burning from when Phil had been pushing against it should’ve made him a bit more concerned. But how was he supposed to f*cking know.

“What did you tell him?” They seemed content to speak to each other like he wasn’t literally in the middle of their conversation. Which was nice, since it meant that he didn’t have to fear Wilbur directing any questions to him.

Which was ironic, since their first interaction of the day had made him so sure that he didn’t have to be afraid of him anymore. It was like some sick little joke, and he was f*cking sick and tired of being left out of the punchline.

“-ommy. Tommy!” He damn near jolted out of Techno’s grip once he was being spoken to again.

“What?” The tears seemed to have stopped for the moment, but there was still the issue of how he felt like he was suffocating himself. It wasn’t his main concern, though. Hopefully he would manage to knock himself out by not breathing.

Maybe he would die.

---

Wilbur had convinced Techno to let him walk into the house by himself. Which was weird, since it was actually kind of a nice thing to do. And Wilbur wasn’t exactly nice.

The moment the door opened, he could practically feel them. His chest burned as he held his breath, expecting something horrible to happen. He could hear their nails clicking against the hardwood floors as they made their way towards him.

Hello. Why are you injured? They chirped in his mind, rounding the corner only to freeze. Were they trying to trick him again? Or did they not know? How was he supposed to f*cking tell?

“That f*cking- YOU!” Tommy managed to catch himself before he actually had a sob escape him, so he instead decided on yelling. He also decided to ignore the tears that had definitely not started again.

They stared up at him, blinking their beady little eyes at him like they were expecting something from him. They stared up at him as he glared down, hoping that he would get something to confirm his rage. He could practically see the moment something clicked in their head.

DID YOU ENSCRIBE YOURSELF?! He could hear the panic in their tone. It was like seven people screamed over each other, the tone uneven and yet steady with a mix of fear and distress at the same time.

“Yeah?” Why would that have f*cking mattered? They were the one who said that it was supposed to protect him. Which it clearly hadn’t.

Well, that wasn’t true. It had protected him from the people that were trying to dig around his mind. It just proceeded to dissolve his f*cking flesh in the process. Which was a tradeoff he hadn’t f*cking agreed to.

There was a moment of silence broken only by what sounded like them arguing with itself, the mangled sounds of multiple voices shouting at each other breaking through enough that he could hear it even while it wasn’t directed at him.

Tommy, you need the man to heal you. I should have explained. I did not know you did that. Were they… Apologizing? Was he supposed to f*cking believe them?

“Then explain.” He had meant to sound a bit more hateful, but he just sounded like some scared kid who was crying and yelling at a f*cking cat. Which he technically was.

It keeps you hidden from othersights. The ones who see too much. It’s to remain dormant. It’s not meant to be on anything with its own energy. They started, clearly ready to explain it to him. Which was weird. He hadn’t expected to get an actual answer.

It will eat away at anything living it’s on with use, as it acts as a barrier. You do not make walls out of flesh.

Tommy hated how much sense they were making. Why hadn’t they told him this earlier? He voiced his worries to the best of his abilities. Which meant that it came out rather mangled due to his current state.

They curled in on themself like they had been scolded, their ears laying flat as they seemed to hide behind their tail. They looked guilty. I witnessed the note you had made. I did not see you put it on yourself.

It didn’t sound accusatory at all, which was weird. He wasn’t sure what he was feeling about the whole ordeal. No, actually he was in a lot of pain still. He was also trying to ignore the feeling of two pairs of eyes burrowing into his skull from where they were on the porch.

He wanted to believe them.

Chapter 59

Chapter Text

Tommy was losing his f*cking sh*t. Apparently Phil was on his way home, and the fisher was more willing to check on his well being than either of the human beings in the house with him. Which was still upsetting even if it wasn’t that much of a surprise.

Wilbur seemed to be preoccupying himself with whatever cartoon he could find while tapping away at his phone loudly, sprawled out over the recliner he had claimed like a ragdoll. Tommy was getting a headache just looking at him, seeing as the f*cker was hanging upside. With his phone at full brightness.

Techno was pacing violently behind the couch he was sitting on, which was somehow worse. He was walking like he was trying to put his f*cking feet through the floor. Which he probably could do if he tried hard enough. Which he was sure Phil would’ve been thrilled about.

One of his kids breaking his floor, and the new one rotting away because of a miscommunication with a magical cat. Which meant that Wilbur would somehow be the lowest on Phil’s sh*t list. The one who threw knives and did f*cking drugs would somehow end up being the least problematic.

You’re agitated. Deep breaths. Tommy didn’t realize that he was trembling until there was a furry head pressing itself into his palm. He didn’t respond, instead taking their advice. Breathing was great and all. But it didn’t do much for the pain.

Admittedly, it only started to hurt once it was touched in some way. Which was probably the reason he didn’t notice it until Tubbo decided to get all touchy-feely. It was probably for the best, in retrospect. He would’ve caused a lot more problems for himself if he made it to the end of the day and ended up tossing the weight of his backpack into the wound.

He cringed away from the thought. It had hurt bad enough when Tubbo had barely touched him. The idea of what his backpack strap would’ve done to it made him feel queasy. Especially since he always threw his bag over his right shoulder, which means he would’ve.

Those aren’t deep breaths. They commented, nipping at his fingers without any real force. They flattened their ears against their skull and turned to stare at the window. They were pretty expressive for being a weird cat creature.

“What?” They had taken their focus off of him completely, and he could feel the muscles under their skin tighten as he pet them.

“Phil’s here.” Techno answered him before his cat companion could. Not that Tommy could be sure that they were going to. They seemed like they were about to run at any moment.

Tommy didn’t blame them. If even if they didn’t mean for it to happen, they were the reason he had gotten hurt. Hell, Tommy’s first instinct had been to assume they had done it on purpose. If he didn’t literally feel their terror when they asked what happened to him, he would’ve been more suspicious.

He was sure that Phil wasn’t going to be as easy to convince. For all he knew, it had happened the second he had walked off of the bus. Plus, he would have to tell the man about why he couldn’t see into Tommy’s f*cking head. Which was something he wanted to keep a secret for a reason.

He had felt the burning from the attempts. Phil hadn’t even reacted physically, as if the action of making the mark eat away at him was effortless for him. Which it probably was. It must’ve been for Eret, too. But they had only made it tingle like Wilbur had.

How powerful was Phil?

---

Phil kicked the door in. The grown ass man kicked his own front door in. He looked like he was on the verge of going hysterical, his face red and his arms full of random sh*t. He just had boxes of stuff, and looked like he was about to drop them all on himself.

“Isheokay?” Phil barely inhaled before speaking. He was still loud enough that Tommy could hear him from where he was on the couch.

I will be back. He is angry. Tommy didn’t get a chance to ask them what they meant before they hopped out of his lap. He did get to watch them wedge themself under the couch, though. Hopefully Phil hadn’t seen them. He had no doubt in his mind that the frenzied man would break his own couch like he had the door.

“No.” Techno seemed to pause his stomp-pacing in order to respond, gesturing vaguely at where Tommy was on the couch. Wilbur plainly ignored the disaster happening feet from where he was.

“Tommy? What di- How- f*ck. Just show me what’s wrong.” Phil’s hysteria was thankfully not directed at him when the man spoke. Which didn’t do much to comfort him since he was still going to have to fess up about why he was rotting.

“No.” He spoke before he could stop himself, pulling his knees to his chest. He turned back towards the television, hugging his legs like they would protect him. Which he knew they wouldn’t.

Wilbur seemed to finally take interest in what was happening around him, looking up from his phone. Well, he sort of just dropped the arm that was holding his phone in front of him, letting the device clatter to the ground. “Tommy.”

He ignored the older boy. It wasn’t like he had to respond. “Tommy.” The hum of his voice made it feel like someone was trying to inject bleach into the nerves he did have exposed. Was he- f*ck. Wilbur knew it hurt.

“Tommy, I’m asking nicely. This is very serious.” Phil’s wavering tone combined with the buzzing pain from Wilbur’s humming quickly drained the defiance from him. He wanted to scream.

“‘m shoulder.” He grumbled, not looking up. He pretty much just bitched into his own knees, but it wasn’t exactly his main focus. Wilbur was humming along to the song from the stupid kid’s show he was pretending to watch, and it f*cking hurt.

If Phil knew what the brunette was doing, he clearly didn’t care. In fact, he seemed more focused trying to get Tommy to fess up. Which was understandable. But, he didn’t have to be complacent.

Tommy knew why he didn’t want to show Phil. The man would probably get pissed off at him for using something magic. It was pretty obvious that the asshole was intentionally keeping him in the dark. Going behind his back and throwing around cat magic probably wasn’t going to help his case. Especially since he clearly f*cked that up, too.

“No, I mean show me. I can feel the necrosis from here, Tommy.” Phil sounded like he was about to lose his sh*t. Which he probably was. Techno going back to his f*cking stomping didn’t help.

Tommy heard the footsteps behind him, and plainly chose to ignore it. If this was what it took to get Phil to beat the sh*t out of him, then he would just have to deal with it. At the very least, he would get to know one spell before he got thrown back to the group home.

Was it even a spell? What was a spell? Wait, would the fisher even get to go to the group home with him?! His panicked thoughts were cut off by a warm hand landing on top of his head. He flinched away from it at first, not realizing that he hadn’t actually been struck.

“Sorry, kid.” Was the last thing he could recall before everything seemed to fade around him.

---

Tommy blinked, trying to figure out what the light shining into his eyes was. He could vaguely make out a figure behind it, but his vision was quickly overcome with spots. He could definitely make out what looked like a f*cking knife coming at his face.

He screamed, instantly flailing out to try and get the assailant the f*ck away from him. There was a groan as his elbow connected with something, and the light was quickly dropped. He blinked rapidly, trying to force himself to see properly through sheer force of will.

It didn’t work, but he could see that he had apparently hit Phil hard enough to make him drop whatever he had been about to f*cking stab him with. He could barely make out what was around him, but he could tell that he was sprawled out across the kitchen table.

He couldn’t understand why Phil was collapsing on the floor, but he did hear what sounded like laughing from a different part of the room. “Did he just tag you?” He couldn’t see him, but he could distinctly hear Wilbur’s barely contained laughter.

It only clicked that he had just dropped the poor guy when he saw him actually curl in on himself on the ground. He could also see clearly enough to tell that it had been a knife that Phil was taking at his face. A weird, twisty knife. But a knife nonetheless.

Tommy could feel the bile rising in his throat as he examined the tool. Phil had seriously almost stabbed him. He could feel himself moving despite how the sudden movement made everything around him spin. He was getting himself off the f*cking table one way or another.

“Stop.” Wilbur hissed, his making him freeze in place. He could feel his muscles tighten as his movements were stopped against his will. Even as he was aware that he wasn’t breathing, he couldn’t take his focus away from the visceral fear he felt.

He wasn’t safe anymore.

Chapter 60

Chapter Text

You were never safe. He could hear the ringing of their voice in his ears. It made the bile rising in his throat burn his tongue, threatening to spill like the tears he was out of. He pretty much dashed to the can he had assaulted before, heaving as his body tried to empty what little was in his stomach.

They were right, weren’t they? He came from a scary environment to an even scarier one. He went from regular child abuse to magic child abuse. Which he was quickly finding out to be much, much worse.

“Ew, gross. Put your f*cking shirt on.” Wilbur’s tone was cool and even, without any of the whimsical hum to it that he dreaded. That didn’t mean he didn’t flinch away from it. Since it could hurt him again.

But it was Wilbur, wasn’t it? Wilbur was the one hurting him. Wilbur was the one forcing words out of his mouth and parading him around like a puppet.

He was scared of Wilbur.

“You’re not deaf, you gremlin. Put your shirt on.” Wilbur spat, his tone feeling like a fork jamming into his eardrums. He wanted to shelter himself away from the guy’s voice. He wanted to hide.

Maybe he could deafen himself. Would it do any good? Digging in his ears with the closest sharp object would mean nothing if Phil just healed him. Why was he f*cking powerless.

You’re not. He could hear them humming in his mind. Did the mark stop them from seeing into his head? They were the only one not out to f*cking get him. How long had he been shaking?

Was it sweat or tears clogging his vision?

“Tommy! Put your f*cking shirt on!” Wilbur was louder, and he could feel his voice rattling around in his skull. He could feel his body moving against his will, stumbling over his own feet as he moved towards an objective he didn’t know how to complete.

He tripped over something that was probably Phil, and managed to catch himself on his knees. He could feel his chest aching as the noises he was failing to suppress took the air he needed from his lungs.

You’re not weak. Do what he’s done. Their humming was the only reason he could think clearly enough to recognize the blood oozing from his palm. He had slid it across the blade of the oddly shaped knife when he had fallen.

He stared into the blood oozing from his palm, marveling at how the burning aided in the crimson filling the slit that was present between the layers of skin. He could feel the warmth rolling down his wrist, slipping to the floor.

“Tommy! f*ck, stop being a bloody idiot!” The brunette’s voice felt like pins shooting through him, the hum stealing the warmth underneath of his skin.

Fight him.

“Shut up.” It was barely above a whisper, and he could feel how the words dragged across his raw throat like coarse sand. It burned in a way that helped to fight the numbing control Wilbur had over him. It felt warm.

There was a moment of silence that stretched long enough for him to steady his breathing. He could hear Phil rising behind him, and he could practically feel him looming closer.

“Wilbur! You can’t just-” He didn’t let him finish, feeling the words thrown over him dripping down his spine like wet spiders.

“Why not?! You’d rather have a naked little boy in your kitchen?” The way Wilbur said it probably meant more than just the weight of his words, but Tommy couldn’t care less about their depth.

He cared more about how his words didn’t burn Phil. Phil, who had been the one to throw him into a world of horror and confusion. A world he was f*cking scared of.

“Shut up.” Tommy could hear himself. He could hear how his voice was on the edge of breaking. He could hear the strain of getting the words past clenched teeth. He could feel the air around him go cold before Wilbur even spoke.

“Don’t interrupt.” Wilbur’s voice was all he heard, and he could feel the spark of defiance sputtering out as he tried to think through the haze. The blood felt cold against his skin. The hand on his shoulder felt like it was frigid enough to stick to the shoulder it had been clamped onto.

He could feel something else, though. It was like the vomit threatening to sear his esophagus again, but worse. It felt like there was a pot of magma in his gut, burning worse as his anger fueled it. It was warm.

He needed to be warm.

Tommy could feel the words leaving his throat, the rage slipping past his lips and to the floor. His eyes burned as the heat stole the tears, making his sinuses feel hot and dried. It felt like he was suffocating in a smoke coming from inside himself.

“Shut up.” The billows of smog escaping the pit of rage in his stomach left his lips, the heat boiling under his skin. It was a visceral, primal feeling he didn’t know.

This is you, Tommy.

They were right, weren’t they? The embers sizzling under his skin were his. The heat pooling off of him to combat the bitter cold Wilbur had injected into his veins was his own.

“You shut up!” He could feel the cold trying to dig into his skin like sharks of shattered ice, threatening to break his skin like pins. He could feel them fail.

“Stop- Stop talking.” Something was being said behind him, but the words weren’t reaching him over the roaring inferno clogging his senses.

“Don’t say anything ever again.” He spat, his lips dry and cracked from the smoke seeping through his skin. He could feel another hand on him, trying to tear him away from the interaction.

They didn’t separate him from you. They were right, weren’t they? As he stared up into Wilbur’s shocked face through watering eyes, the boy hadn’t moved.

Phil didn’t try to stop him.

“Don’t make any noise ever again. You don’t get to f*cking speak.” He could feel the words more than he could hear them, the vibrations registering more than the words themselves.

The only thing he could hear was the lull of the fire pooling in him, threatening to burn anything that got to close. Threatening to destroy on so much as a whim.

He felt powerful.

Tommy felt like he could tear the sky down with a single word. He felt like he could uproot a tree with the wave of a hand. He felt like he could boil the oceans with a simple look.

He could feel the burning energy searing through his nerves, demanding to be released. He could feel the heat rolling off of his tongue as he spoke, his words holding a fire to rival the sun. He could feel the power behind his words.

Even before he could feel the sparks flittering between his teeth as he tried to fend off the venom leaking from the words of the older boy. He had felt the heat responding, fueling the force of his words. He could feel the throbbing of his bruised lips as his words stole the heat and forced them into the air.

“You don’t get to speak anymore.”

Chapter 61

Chapter Text

Tommy was pretty sure he died. He had never been knocked unconscious so bad, so it would make sense that he was just dead. Why else would he be able to hear things before his eyes ever opened? He heard it from someone once. That your hearing was the last thing to go.

His theory of being dead was abandoned once his eyes peeled themselves open, the lids sticking together painfully from how dry they were. Blinking a few more times didn't help as much as he hoped it would. He would probably need to shower if he wanted any real results.

His mouth was just as dry, apparently. Tearing his lips apart made it evident how chapped they had become since he-

Actually, he wasn’t sure. It felt like someone scooped the memory out of his head and packed the empty space in his brain with lukewarm jello. They might as well have, seeing as it would do better to explain his migraine.

He took a few seconds to try and blink away the discomfort settled behind his eyes, but eventually gave up on it once it wasn’t fixing itself. He was pretty sure that he was looking at the ceiling of the living room, which meant that something happened since Techno had told him he was rotting.

It definitely wasn’t his last memory. He could vaguely recognize little snippets left behind in the mess that was his short term memory. He knew he had thrown up more than once, which definitely explained his sore throat. The air felt like cold shreds of glass tumbling down the raw mess that he was left with.

If someone came by and told him that he had gargled drain cleaner, he would’ve believed them. His sinuses even burned from the air. Did he somehow manage to black out and give himself strep throat?

Trying to sit up made it evident just how grotesquely sore he was. It felt like someone had taken the time to punch him in every f*cking joint he had. His muscles weren’t as bad since it was a burning he wasn’t unfamiliar with. But everything else made him reconsider being dead.

His brain seemed to start too slow, and he remembered his previously decaying shoulder. He struggled to get the heavy blanket that tucked him into the couch off, his body protesting his movements as it agitated everything that was already searing with extortion.

Once he managed to wrestle it off of him, in what was a lot longer than he would’ve liked to admit, he found that he was in the same shirt he had come home in. He wasn’t sure why it made him pause, since he didn’t remember why he wouldn’t have been in it. He shoved down the feeling in order to focus on his shoulder that was rotting the f*ck away.

His back burned just as bad as his arms as he wrenched his shirt off, trying to ignore the way his chest ached at the deep breath he forced in. f*ck, what happened to him? The idea that the magic deterioration reached the rest of his body made his throat tighten worse than the pain could.

He was hesitant to look over at his shoulder, but he eventually managed to turn to inspect his wound. He blinked, not realizing at first what he was staring at.

His shoulder was fine. There wasn’t even a scar left. He was sure he must’ve checked the wrong shoulder, but the other one looked just as pristine. Which didn’t make any sense. Any sort of imperfections he had over his skin from his years of doing dumb sh*t seemed to have been erased completely. Which was f*cking weird.

If the mark was gone, didn’t that mean that Phil could see into his head again? Didn’t it mean Wilbur could manipulate him again? For some reason, he felt like there was something he was forgetting about that. Which would make sense since he must’ve blacked out or something.

“Hello?” If he had apparently blacked out bad enough to f*ck up his memory, someone had to still be in the house with him. Someone had to have tucked him in, right? So it would make sense if he wasn’t left all by himself.

Right?

---

He was left in the house all by himself. Whoever had been their once he passed the f*ck out has just tucked him in and left. Which made more sense if it was just Wilbur and Techno like he remembered it being. But it didn’t explain where the fisher had gone. He had searched as much of the house as he could without finding a single trace of them anywhere.

They wouldn’t leave, right? Not after everything? He choked back the lump forming in his throat from the idea of it. They said they didn’t intend for the mark to hurt him, which he could distinctly remember from the shred of memory he was trying to jam into place.

It was like he was trying to get a puzzle together, expect all the pieces were from different f*cking puzzels. He could vaguely remember either yelling or being yelled at, along with the feeling that he had gotten sick from something. He could definitely remember puking.

He was about to give up his search and dig through the bathroom in the pursuit of painkillers when he heard something scratching the door from inside of Phil’s room. There was a chance that it was going to be something that would actually kill him, but he was still clinging to the bit of hope that they were still with him. That, and he felt sh*tty enough that he wouldn’t mind if it did end up killing him.

The door was locked, but he took a moment to enjoy how the cold metal felt against his stiff fingers. He honestly felt like Wilbur and Techno had decided to toss him down the stairs a few times once they realized he was unconscious. Which was unfortunately not that far fetched.

The scratching stopped for a second, so Tommy seriously decided to ignore it in favor of going to bed. That was, until he heard something slam against the f*cking door. Whatever it was, it was going to get itself out. It made more sense to let it kill him now instead of waiting until he was sound asleep and unprepared for it.

The door was still locked, but he managed to find a hairpin after a few minutes of scrounging around the bathroom. The lack of a mirror didn’t phase him too much. If anything, he was grateful that he didn’t have to face just how horrible he probably looked. Especially since he could only remember about a third of why he looked so sh*tty.

He got back to the door with the pin, making a face as he picked the cotton candy pink hair out of it. Why was Techno’s hair so goddamn long? It was like the f*cker was trying to get it everywhere. He could only imagine what kind of mess the shower drain must’ve been.

The distraction didn’t work as long as he would’ve liked, seeing as the thing on the other side of the door slammed into it again. Whatever it was, it wasn’t big enough to damage the wood. Or it wasn’t trying.

He bent the pin and jammed it into the lock, waiting for the telltale clicks of the mechanisms that signaled it worked. He turned the handle and flung it open, giving himself a second to jump back. He could probably get to the bathroom to hide if he needed.

Apparently he had knocked it back with the force of the door, since he heard it shaking itself out before anything else. Their familiar face popped around the edge of the door a moment later, their body perking up as they bounded towards him.

“Hey.” He sounded like he was about to cry, which he probably was. At least they were still with him. They wrapped around his leg like an excited scarf, staring up at him expectantly. Which he didn’t get, since they weren’t saying anything.

They titled their head at him like they expected a response, blinking up at him. His stomach churned with anxiety as he tried to find alternatives to what was happening. None were coming up despite how hard he tried to conjure them up. There had to be something else going on.

He couldn’t hear them anymore.

Chapter 62

Chapter Text

Tommy could feel himself spiraling. They were pressed against his leg, and probably didn’t know that he couldn’t hear them. He would have to be the one to tell them, wouldn’t he? They were clearly getting upset by his lack of a response.

“I can’t- I can’t hear you.” He tried to catch himself as his voice started to crack, but he couldn’t help the wave of dread that was threatening to drown him. His eyes were too dry for tears, which left him with a tight throat and the threat of a worsening headache.

They stared up at him like they did when they were talking, but seemed to recoil. Did they think he was joking? If they had, they seemed to realize he most definitely wasn’t.

He wasn’t sure when he had sunk down to his knees, but he did willingly clutch them to his chest. He wasn’t sure if it was even permanent. But the simple idea that it would be was enough to send him into a fit of dry sobs.

He could feel them moving against him, pressing into his chest and neck with their snout like they were trying to reassure him. It wasn’t working, and only kept to remind him that he couldn’t hear them. The warmth of their fur wasn’t even enough to give him a semblance of comfort.

Tommy felt like the world was sinking in around him. If they could tell what he was feeling, they didn’t seem to be responding to the sheer terror coursing through him. It felt like the only security he had in the sheer f*cking hell he had been tossed to was ripped away from him.

The lack of tears didn’t mean he was crying as softer. He was practically wailing by the time they finally reacted to his agony. He was practically yowling with tearless cries, the fact that he was all alone in the house aiding to the volume of his despair.

f*ck, why was he such a goddamn child? He was f*cking pathetic. He couldn’t stop himself from babbling through the boisterous sounds of his mourning. The words fell from his cracked lips like a replacement for the tears he was out of.

“You were- I only learned the one-”, He cut himself off with a painful gulp of air, releasing most of it with another choked noise. “The spell I- I need you- You said there's more- Please-”

He wasn’t sure who he was begging to. He wasn’t sure if he was doing more than wailing into the fur of an animal who could no longer speak to him. He was so desperate for some kind of otherworldly assistance that he didn’t flinch away from the hand that clamped onto his bare shoulder.

Tommy turned to whoever had done it, his red rimmed eyes and wild expression pleading with whatever it was to help him. The sight that greeted him was that of Phil, the expression on his face mostly masked by the shadows of the hallways.

He could feel his heart sink way before the words left the man. He could feel his chest tighten and his pathetic noises of despair choke him as he tried to keep them down. He had sobbed like a f*cking child loud enough that Phil was more than capable of sneaking up on him.

He could feel them tensing in his lap as well, their fur bristling against his skin as he tried to hold them closer. The claws pricking at his skin didn’t faze him as he tried to fight through the suffocating dread that was threatening to drown him. Phil’s gaze was suffocating.

“What did they teach you, Tommy?” His tone was frigid and emotionless, but it dragged through him like a red-hot wire. One that cut through him with a startling amount of ease.

“They- Nothing.” If Phil couldn’t have told from his expression alone, he would’ve been able to tell from the way his voice came out cracked and desperate. Pleading.

But what good was begging to a man like him? Phil had done nothing but prove that he didn’t care.

Phil titled his head in a way that made the sparse light coming through the dark windows shine across his iris dangerously. Tommy could see just how dangerous the man’s expression was, his green eyes sending spikes of visceral fear through every fiber of his being.

He felt like he was a pathetic roach trapped under the man’s heel. He could be destroyed with ease. The thought crossed his mind, and not even a second passed before the grimace across Phil’s face tightened into a smile so force that it must’ve hurt.

“Tommy, what did they tell you?” The feeling that coursed through him made it feel like every nerve in his body was being pierced with a hot pin, stealing the air out of him as he struggled to focus his vision. It was so much worse than what Wilbur had done.

Wilbur made him feel cold. The feeling coursing through him was so hot that it made him feel like he was baking alive inside of his own skin. He was too warm already, and he couldn’t sweat. He was broiling from the inside out, and it hurt.

“They taught me the spell to keep you out of my head and then they said I shouldn’t have put it on my skin and they said they wanted to keep me safe and then they said I would get to learn more spells and they said you were lying to me and they.”

The words were dragged out of him by the heat, slipping out of him even after he ran out of what little air he had left in his lungs. Anything past the fifth words had come out as a barely audible wheeze, and he was seeing spots by the time he choked out the last. His head was swimming and the heat burning inside of him seemed to be burning it out of him, forcing more black into his vision to the point that he was sure that he was going to pass out.

He felt the floor colliding with his face by the time he could force air back into his lungs, his skin still tender from the hellfire that had torn through him like he had poured gasoline into his veins and stuffed his innards with kindling.

Tommy was suddenly remembering a heat coursing through him that had felt nothing like what Phil has just done to him. The fire that he was starting to remember was warm, but it was safe.

That fire had been him.

“So that’s what you did.” Phil spat, his tone so cold. Tommy felt the dry sobs start to escape him again, wishing that the words were cold enough to sooth the ache from the f*cking burning.

He was content to lay against the cold flooring, trying to absorb as much as the chill from the polished wood as he possibly could. It helped to muffle the shameful noise of his despair that were still slipping past his lips. That was, until he heard a strangled bark.

He forced his aching muscles to move, peeling himself off of the ground like a stomped ant trying to tear itself from the dirt it was ground into. He would’ve preferred to be dying. It would’ve hurt so much less to die.

Tommy felt his elbow start to buckle, but didn’t have time to catch himself before his face was falling to the floor again. He let out a pained noise, but he managed to turn enough that the wood only slammed against the side of his face.

The pain made his vision swim more than it should’ve. The only thing that convinced him to try and get off the f*cking floor was the sound of footsteps bouncing off the halls. The noises of them struggling was pronounced by something being smashed into the wall. He rolled himself enough to see what it was, and couldn’t stop himself from physically recoiling.

Phil had a hold of the back of their head, and he could tell by how the man was pressing them into the wall that the noise was him slamming them into it. The sheer f*cking terror coursing through him as he watched their motionless form made him want to scream.

The only noise that left him was a strained whine, his throat fighting it as it tightened. He was sure that he would’ve suffocated if he didn’t give up and gulp air like he wanted to drown in it.

Phil peeling them from the wall and continuing to walk made a spike of adrenaline course through him. Even as his body protested and fought the movement, he forced himself to get to his knees. He dug his fingernails into the paint of the wall as he struggled to stand.

The paint gouged under his fingernails in a way that made it feel like they were moments from peeling right off, but he ignored it as he quite literally dragged himself to his feet. Phil was already going down the steps, and he was just starting to follow behind him.

The residual burning made it feel like every movement was just stoking the coals, making the embers lurking under his flesh threaten to ignite at any moment. The pained noises and grunts left him freely as he tried to move faster, hearing Phil stomp down the steps quicker than he could.

Shuffling against the wall made him drag his hand through something sticky and warm. He couldn’t risk trying to stop and examine it, so he continued even as his stomach fought to empty itself despite having nothing to lose.

The stairs hurt so much worse. The force seemed to shoot up his ankles and into his knees, threatening to buckle every time he put his weight back down on them. He could see from the steps that Phil was already out the door, and he was losing sight of him.

The fear and adrenaline were the only things urging him forward, fighting through the heat and nausea and dizziness that threatened to topple him at any moment. He had to keep going. He had to keep moving.

By the time he made it to the steps, he had his nail dug so far into the walls that the paint was pulling his nails up from the bed. A few of them had actually buckled, bending backwards as they peeled themselves from the bed. His throat hurt from the noises of pain leaving him, but letting them out and choking air back in was the only reason he was breathing.

He was sure that if he tried to stop them that it would require clamping his lips shut. It was easier to let the putrid liquid and solidifying spittle on his tongue turn the inside of his mouth to vile slime.

Tommy managed to get himself to the door, staring out at the yard where Phil was. He had prepared for it. He couldn’t care less where Techno and Wilbur had gone as he realized where Phil had been.

His lungs protested as he tried to scream, his knees collapsing underneath of him as he tried to get to the porch. He couldn’t catch himself on his hands, and ended up slamming into the wood of the porch, his feet hanging past the threshold into the house. Even the house was trying to trap him.

He wanted to f*cking scream. The noises leaving him were barely audible as he forced his arm under him, using his elbow to prop him enough that he could actually see what was happening. Part of him wished he didn’t.

He watched Phil throw them to the ground, almost immediately stomping down on their back legs to pin them. He could hear their screaming, the noise of an animal in distress. The noise of an animal being tortured.

The metal bar Phil picked up from the ground was too close to have been left there by accident. He watched as the man raised it, driving it into their back only inches above their back legs. He was so far, but he could practically hear the metal tear their their f*cking flesh and fur.

He couldn’t scream. He couldn’t help. He couldn’t move. He couldn’t save them. He couldn’t breathe-

Tommy watched as Phil drove the pike deeper, their noises of agony burning his eardrums. It felt like knives being driven through his skull, mocking him. He couldn’t fix it. He could barely force air into his own lungs, let alone get to his feet.

He couldn’t get his voice to work as he tried to call out to the man, watching him grab a white can of something. He realized all too quickly what it was as he saw how the nozzle was shaped. It was lighter fluid.

He wanted to curl in on himself and die. If he was dead he wouldn’t have to hear their agony. He wouldn’t have to suffer through his own. He wanted nothing more than to be f*cking dead so he could be finally be safe.

He could hear the striking of a match, the noise feeling so much louder in his ears than it should’ve been for the distance between them. He wanted to beg for their life, and he wanted nothing more than to be able to do anything. He would’ve felt better if he would’ve been able to scream.

He could hear it igniting. He could hear the way their howling skyrocketed. He wanted to die he wanted to be somewhere else he wanted to die he wanted to be dead-

“TOMMY!” Phil’s voice was suddenly cutting through the noises of their pain, cutting out how it was getting progressively worse. “LOOK!”

He wanted to gouge his throat out. He wanted to dig his thumbs into his eyes. He wanted to see if biting through his tongue and ripping whatever teeth he could get a good grip on would cause enough bleeding to let him drown himself.

Instead, he peeled his head from the ground enough to get a look at what was happening. Phil’s expression was illuminated by the amber flames, his grin too wide. Too genuine. Tommy wasn’t sure if he had always been shaking, but it was definitely worse now.

He followed the man’s finger, pointing down at how they were burning alive. He wanted to look away. He wanted to do something more than just stare in paralyzing horror at what was happening to them. Why couldn’t it have been him?

“What kind of animal burns like that, Tommy? What kind of animal melt?” Phil’s voice was so loud in his ears. He wanted to dig it out of his skull with trembling fingers, just to get away from it.

Tommy finally focused on their agony, their noises having started to decline. Their fur was burning away, leaving behind the skin underneath. They were oozing a black liquid from where their flesh split, the putrid smell encasing everything making him wish he could vomit.

They were drooped, their head hanging limply as the black sludge dripped out of their ears and mouth. He could see the fire eating away at them, the flames carving holes through them. He could see how the black sludge flopped out of them, sinking into the earth below. Decaying the grass it splattered against.

“That’s not blood, Tommy.” Phil’s voice still made his head ache even though he seemed to be talking quieter. He reconsidered trying to gouge his eyes out, hoping that his quivering fingertips could hold steady enough to work.

Tommy watched as they picked their head up, whipping it in his direction. Their eyes looked like they had popped inside their skull, the skin chipping away around their face as more of the putrid black slime left them.

He could’ve sworn they were smiling at him as the skin around their teeth fell away into the flames.

Chapter 63

Chapter Text

He felt like he was dying. He hoped he was dying. The numbness seemed to be his only saving grace from the agony surging through his veins. He watched their corpse wither away under the flames, the sludge freely pooling from where the burnt skin was cracked and oozing.

If he had the strength to puke, he would’ve. His stomach was empty and the pain already made it hard to breathe. Maybe it was the panic. The panic that had his heart beating fast enough that he could feel the pulsing in his throat as he struggled to gulp down air. The panic that was making his vision fuzzy.

He wasn’t sure, but it looked like Phil was reaching into the flames before everything went black around him.

---

Tommy woke up, and almost instantly wished he didn’t. The sounds of an animal screaming while it burned alive was still humming in his ears, making his eyes ache with tears he didn’t have. He tried to blink some of the irritation away as he choked back a sob.

Maybe it had just been a dream?

The idea was quickly shut down as the taste of ash still lingered in the back of his throat. Maybe the wind had changed directions while they were f*cking burning. The idea of their ashes blanketing him as he was passed out on the porch was more upsetting than the fact that he might’ve f*cking inhaled them.

He finally opened his eyes, expecting the sun to be out. It wasn’t. The only source of light in the room was a single lit candle settled in the middle of the coffee table. It casted a mockingly warm glow over everything, giving it a sense of warmth and safety that it lacked.

That it never had.

“So you’re up.” The monotone voice cutting through the darkness struck him like lightning, making his heart beat faster as the room seemed to get much smaller around him. It was like the corners of the room were filled with black vipers, posing to strike.

“Yeah.” He hated how bad he sounded. How broken. But that’s what he was, wasn’t he? He was f*cking broken and weak. Everything seemed to prove that time and time again.

“We need to talk.” Phil was moving in the dark, each footstep seeming to knock on his skull like a fist. The weight the noise carried made his teeth rattle. That, or he was shaking.

“I want to go back.” His voice was small, and he barely heard his words over the rasp in his tone. Whatever smoke- The night’s events left his throat raw and tender, to the point that the air felt like it was full of glass and salt. His nose was stuffed from sobbing, so he thankfully couldn’t hear how bad he really was.

He could imagine, though.

“What? Tommy-” The lights of the living room were flicked on, sending a sharp pain directly through to the back of his skull. The brightness blinded him bad enough that he didn’t realize that Phil was in front of him, blocking the artificial light from assaulting his retinas any further.

“You can’t go back.” The twinge of panic in Phil’s tone was the least of his concerns as the words settled in his mind. He could feel his stomach churning, trying to conjure something to eject. His abdominal muscles already ached.

Tommy tried to force a response, willing someone to come from his mouth in protest. The most he could manage was a choke sob. One that made him wince as he agitated his raw esophagus.

Something cold was being put into his hands, and he had blinked enough spots out of his vision to realize that Phil was looming over him still. The man had the audacity to look worried.

As if the pit in his stomach wasn’t from him. As if every blood didn’t taste like blood and soot because of him. As if he wasn’t alone now.

“Drink that. You’ll feel better.” Phil spoke in a warm tone, but it felt like boiling lead being flicked against his skin. He wanted to shrink away from it. Disappear, even. Maybe if he could die.

“I suppose you have some questions.” Was what he followed up with. Tommy would’ve laughed if he wasn’t trying to fight back more tears. Tears he didn’t have. He couldn’t remember if he had even shed any for them. He didn’t know if he was able.

Phil was moving over to the recliner that Techno usually claimed. How pathetic was it that he was already starting to memorize their schedules? He would’ve been more upset by that if he wasn’t still mourning.

He finally took a glance down at what he was given. It was a thin vial, the cork sealed with an image he didn’t like. The melting sun made something in him shiver. The silver liquid inside seemed to be much more viscous than the yellow sh*t Phil kept feeding him.

Why hadn’t he protested it more? What had that done to him? He clearly couldn’t trust the man, so why would he be stupid enough to drink sh*t that looked like gasoline. Hopefully it had been deadly enough to make sure he wouldn’t have to wake up again.

“It’s Moonlight. You need it more than the Sunlight right now.” Phil supplied, acting as though he would know what the f*ck that meant. Hopefully it was some kind of drug.

He struggled with the sealed cork, but eventually managed to pry it off with his nail. The puff of air that followed reminded him of the time he passed out at the school nurse and they used the smelling salts on him. Only better.

The icy pins that spread through his skin were divine. His previous worries were abandoned as he brought it to his lip, letting the silver liquid pour down his throat.

The slight chill was the only reason he could tell that he had ingested it. It was as if air had been cooled and then frozen. The feeling of the ice spreading through his body filled him with an odd sense of peace.

It almost seemed familiar.

“You probably have some questions.” Phil repeated himself, his tone just as calm as before.

There was a sudden rush of warmth through him, and Tommy realized just how angry he was. At Phil.

The man didn’t seem too fazed as the vial smashed against the wall behind him, the shards scattering like snowflakes as they painted the floor. Any specks of the silver liquid made them look like they were shimmering, almost dancing in the light.

Tommy wanted to do so much more. He felt like he could. It was like his apathy and fear had been replaced with electricity, buzzing under his skin.

Itching to be released.

“That’s fair. Didn’t know you liked that thing so much.” Phil was calm even as he addressed him, and was either ignoring it or was oblivious to the literal powersurge Tommy was dealing with.

“You f*cking took them! They made me feel safer than you ever could!” His voice was finally working, the silver concoction rekindling the flame of f*cking rage. The one his tears has let fizzle out.

Phil had the f*cking nerve to look upset for a second. The flash of guilt in his eyes made Tommy want to gouge them out. When did he get to his feet?

He was standing now, the previous aching being replaced with the humming of what felt like a thousand bees rattling his bones. He felt f*cking powerful. And he wanted to use it.

The feeling of the heat lurking under his skin seemed vaguely familiar, but he didn’t care. He wanted Phil to pay. He wanted him to pay for everything.

“Tommy, that thing was an animal skin stuffed with blood.” Phil said it so matter-of-factly that Tommy almost reconsidered his rage.

“THAT’S WHAT AN ANIMAL IS!” He barked, his tone rising to the point that it made it feel like his teeth were rattling. It sounded like glass quivering in it’s pane.

Wait.

“Thought you would’ve reacted better. It must be since it’s your first time in a while.” Phil hummed as he seemed to be considering something to himself, his eyes focused on the window pointed out towards the driveway. “Anyways, they weren’t full of animal blood.”

Tommy wanted to puke again. He might as well have had an eating disorder with how sh*tly he was keeping food down. He must’ve heard him wrong. Or maybe Phil was lying. Phil lied a lot.

“It’s a tracking poppet, and whoever made it knew where you were. They stuff it with pieces of who they meant to find. Like this.” There was something dangling in Phil’s grip, his hands steady as he offered something that made his knees weak.

It looked like a toy bracelet he had been gifted by an old, old foster brother he had. He had been at the residency for about a month, before the husband was outed as a sexual predator. It was one of the only times he had ever had the services step in on their own accord.

He didn’t remember being assaulted or anything, but he definitely remembered how torn up he was about losing the memento. It was an ugly old plastic ring, much too small to fit over his hand now. And yet he could still remember the sh*t dragon character it was supposed to look like.

“It had to have meant a lot to you at some point. That thing probably modelled itself over what you wanted when you had it.” Phil was speaking to him, but it felt like he was hearing him through water,

Why was he making sense? Phil had done something so horrible, he had no right to be justified. But, why else would he have something like that. Where did the f*cking fisher get it.

“He always liked using poppets. It was the one thing he could control.” Who the f*ck was Phil talking about? What was happening?, was bouncing around his skull like a stone, making his thoughts rattle with the force it had behind it.

Phil seemed to have noticed at least a bit of his confusion, making a face at him that he couldn’t be bothered to decipher. “You probably wouldn’t know why he’s hunting you. Runs in the family and all that. Don’t think I remembered to tell you that we’re blood relatives, either.”

The man was smiling, but it felt like he had just stabbed Tommy in the chest, and every new word was just a sharp twist. He wanted to scream. Or to cry. Maybe puke. Maybe all three.

Phil couldn’t be his dad. If he was, he could easily get custody. The idea of not being able to escape from the nightmare the man forced him into made him want to die. Actually, truly die. The hopelessness that followed the fear made him consider doing it himself.

“You’re my dad?” Even though his throat had stopped hurting, he sounded just as broken. He sounded more fragile than the shards of paper thin glass scattered across the floor behind the seat Phil was perched in.

Phil snorted, rolling his eyes. He was so casual. He acted as though none of this mattered. Which it probably didn’t for him. But the sheer fact he could be so dismissive pissed Tommy off. Why could he afford not to care?

“I’m not that old.” Tommy was still trying to choke down the panic that seemed to be fueled by whatever concoction he was given earlier. He wanted nothing more that for it to be poison. Dropping dead at that moment would’ve been a blessing. Especially considering what he had to hear next.

“You’re my little brother.”

Chapter 64

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He couldn’t sleep. He wanted to, more than anything. Being able to fade into unconsciousness, and try to convince himself that it was just some kind of horrific dream. He was painfully exhausted as well.

There was still electricity running under his skin, and he couldn’t get it to stop. He considered shoving a penny into an outlet to see if that would counteract the sensation he so despised. With his f*cking luck, it would just make it worse.

He just had too much goddamn sh*t thrown at him. There wasn’t even a place for him to start when it came to addressing the dread in his system. He could try and face the fact that Phil was his blood relative, but the heavy scent of smoke was still burning the back of his throat.

Tommy could close his eyes and let the scene of watching their teeth fall from their skull as it withered away in the presence of the flames tearing it apart. But he still had Wilbur to f*cking worry about.

But how could he worry about what Wilbur would do to him the next time they were near each other when he still had to wonder what he did to the guy. He could practically feel the residual heat lurking under his skin, like the layer pressed against the muscle had been sunburned.

The idea of the warmth meant nothing with the pit of ice sitting in his stomach. I shouldn’t have drank it was playing in his head in between the spiraling apathy threatening to swallow his panic and drain his chest of the crippling anxiety that was making his heart beat funny. But that might’ve just been from whatever drug Phil just gave him.

Hopefully it would end up killing him. Was it cocaine? It was always shown on TV as being some white powder, not a silver liquid. Did Phil make it into a drink? Was Tommy high on cocaine?

Overdosing was the least of his worries, honestly.

---

After what felt like hours of staring at the ceiling, Tommy found himself blinking awake to the shreds of daylight pouring into the room. He didn’t remember getting under the covers, but he did have to kick them off in order to get up. He was startled to find that he felt fine.

Well, physically. The burning sensation he got from breathing mixed with the taste of bile and blood on the back of his tongue was gone, along with the ache in his bones when he forced his muscles to let him stagger forward. His eyes even felt better, the crusty and irritated feeling he got from blinking as nothing more than a memory.

He could still smell it, though. It still clung to his clothes and hair, even as the evidence erased itself from his flesh. He wanted to scrub himself until he bled. Maybe he would get to bleed out peacefully in the shower and not have to face any of the Watsons.

He wanted to see if a whole bar of soap would be enough to get the job done. It wasn’t particularly abrasive, but scratching himself as he used it would probably help. He turned towards the desk in the room, ready to grab the sh*t soap he had picked for himself.

His reflection stared back at him from what was a polished white stone ball in it’s stupid little pedistal. He looked like sh*t, more so than he would regularly from how the curved surface warped his image.

He wasn’t sure when he had picked it up, but the feeling of the cold stone seemed to make his fingers ache. Like it was mocking him. The feeling he had been suppressing the night before seemed to come back, making his wrist burn from the weight of the stupid f*cking ball.

Phil had gotten it for him. Phil had also gotten him the other stupid rock trinkets that he made out to be these wondrous trinkets. That he said he would show him how to use. Tommy didn’t realize that the ball was out of his grasp until he heard the shattering.

He felt so disconnected from reality that he didn’t realize what he was looking at for a few seconds. He didn’t regret it, though. The sight of the offending orb sitting in the ruins of the other stone monstrosity it managed to destroy was enough to let a bit of the weight off of his shoulders.

He grabbed his soap and went to the bathroom, determined to scrub every part of him until he bled.

---

In hindsight, maybe his teeth shouldn’t have been on that list. His gums ached for sure, and he was pretty sure that he f*cked up his toothbrush pretty bad. His skin was still raw in places, making his clothes feel like there was razor wire woven into the threads of his shirt and jeans. Which their f*cking could’ve been. It was made pretty clear that Phil was insane.

Thinking of Phil and then having the bus seat dip unexpectedly was more than enough to startle him, which resulted in him almost bashing heads with Tubbo as he whipped around to face the brunette. If the guy had noticed his distress, his smile was hiding it.

“Did you ask about coming over last night?” He sounded like a child trying to get their friend over for a sleepover. Which he might’ve been. He was pretty sure Tubbo was a lot younger than him based on how he acted.

No, I watched the only thing that made me feel safe burn to death. He could say it. Tubbo would either assume it was a joke like the other sh*t he mentioned, or he would get some well-earned pity. Even if the idea of being pitied made his stomach flop.

At least he made the decision to skip breakfast, so he didn’t have to worry about throwing up on himself out of nervousness. He knew a day without eating wasn’t enough to kill him, but it was nice to imagine that it could. To hope it would.

But, Tubbo didn’t seem to be a malicious entity dead set on destroying whatever fragile shreds of sanity he managed to salvage from the rubble of his psyche. If anything, he was sure that the guy would try to comfort him if he heard what happened and believed it.

The idea of getting genuine sympathy made his stomach twist but in a different way. It was unfamiliar and made his empty stomach want to turn itself inside out just as bad as anxiety and panic did.

“You good, big man?” Tubbo’s voice cut through the crisis he was having internally. He blinked, realizing that he had literally been staring at the guy for who knows how long without saying anything. f*ck, that must’ve been creepy.

“Yeah.” His tone was a lot more stable than he felt, his throat surprisingly unharmed from the night’s ‘events’ he had been witness to. Tubbo seemed to believe him even though he was very clearly lying. What an idiot.

“Where’d your brothers go, by the way? They never miss school.” Tubbo continued talking like it was nothing. Tommy envied how easily he was filling the silence sitting between him. Or maybe he was a tad bit grateful that he wasn’t being left alone to sit with his thoughts.

“Not brother’s. Don’t know.” Tommy allowed a bit of the tension to drop from his shoulders as he pressed his side back into the side of the bus. He let his forehead cool against the window, ignoring how every bump the bus went over seemed to try and rattle his brain out of his goddamn skull. Hopefully it was deadly.

There was a moment of silence between them. The rest of the bus even seemed to quiet down, the only noise piercing the veil being the noise of the bus rumbling. And the occasional noise of a car passing in the other direction.

“So did you ask?” Tubbo chimed in, his voice cutting through the haze. Not in an unpleasant manner, though. He’d take Tubbo’s rambling over the noise of anyone he was trapped living with.

Was he trapped? He still knew Mariah’s number, didn’t he? If he could get somewhere with a f*cking phone, he could out Phil’s bullsh*t and get out. At the very least, he could be ripped away and stuck in a looney bin. Which was still arguably safer than being stuck in the house with the Watsons and their perpetual bullsh*t.

“I can come over after school.” It wasn’t lying. It would only be lying if he had asked first, got told no, and then said he could.

If Phil was going to hide sh*t from him, it was about time that Tommy started doing it too.

Chapter 65

Chapter Text

If Tubbo noticed him being quiet, he was outright ignoring it. Or he was completely oblivious to it. The guy hadn’t stopped talking in their shared classes, and instead filled any silence Tommy left between them with odd tidbits of information and badly-recited stories. He was surprised that the guy hadn’t knocked himself out from a lack of oxygen yet.

It wasn’t annoying, which was surprising. He would rather die than say it out loud, but Tubbo’s presence was nice in comparison to the sh*t shows he had been growing used to living with. Which set the bar pretty low, honestly.

“I forgot to tell you! We’re kidnapping Ranboo!” Tubbo said it like it was the most casual thing ever before turning around and running off to his class. Tommy didn’t have time to process how f*cked up that was, but he wasn’t sure he cared. He had to get to English, after all.

The hellhole that was the Watson household was making him numb to horrible sh*t, which probably should’ve concerned him more. The idea of kidnapping a guy didn’t seem that bad. He watched a full grown man burn an animal live, and then smile at him like he was proud of himself. It was sad that the normal one was the vampire-anime looking scene kid who was also supposedly immortal.

He flopped into his seat beside Nick, who seemed to not notice him in favor of tapping away at his phone loudly. He didn’t look up until the bell rang, when Tommy got to watch as his phone was haphazardly tossed in the direction of his bag that was on the floor next to him. It didn’t make it.

Hopefully the guy had a goddamn case on it. If not, he probably just walked around with one of those busted to sh*t screens that middle school girls had on their iPhone. Tommy could see Nick doing something that stupid.

“Hey Toms! What’s your fun Friday plans?” Nick focusing his attention onto him made it feel like a veil of smoke was suddenly wrapped around his throat. He could practically feel the heat of the other boy.

Which he ignored, naturally.

“Going over to Tubbo’s. Probably spendin’ the night.” His tone was painfully light, with enough fake friendliness to make him cringe as he heard himself. Nick seemed oblivious to it. Which wasn’t saying much.

“Sleepovers with the homies are always great. We’re going to crash at Karl’s after Alex’s game tonight since one of them has to drive me to my match tomorrow.” Who the f*ck was Alex? He did know who Karl was, at least.

“What’s he playing?” He didn’t actually care. But Nick seemed happy to ramble on, so he didn’t have to make actual small talk.

“Alex? He does football. Which is crazy since he’s so small. He’s like a chihuahua.” Nick snorted at that like it meant something to anyone other than him.

“What position?” Tommy didn’t know sh*t about football. Or sports, for that matter. If he wasn’t raised in the States, he might’ve pretended to be offended that ‘football’ wasn’t actually soccer.

“He’s the running back. He almost dies, like, every game. The other guys are literally twice his size. You have no idea how scary it is when he gets wiped out. I’ve never seen something more terrifying in my life.” Tommy didn’t mean to snort at that.

He could name a few, actually. He had a handful just from the past day that would probably make anyone else piss themself. He usually would’ve been too if he wasn’t a problem solver. The idea of seeing Phil going to jail for his f*cked up magic crimes kept him going.

“Probably some real scary sh*t, man.”

---

Tommy didn’t see Tubbo in the lunchroom, so he just sat at the usual table where Nikki seemed to hang out. He was more than content to sit in a stiff silence with her as he picked at his sh*tty breakfast pizza that was definitely just leftover from the week’s breakfast.

His pizza-stabbing was interrupted by Tubbo literally throwing himself onto the bench next to him. The table f*cking shook from the force of it. Tommy would probably break something if he just slammed into sh*t like that.

“Hi Nikki! Can you drive us to Ranboo’s after school?” Was that his f*cking plan?! He was just going to ask his sister to be an accomplice in a kidnapping?

“Of course! We’ll be at the game later, so you three can’t break anything while we’re gone.” Nikki just sounded so kind. Her voice was so calm and sweet. To the point that it couldn’t have been genuine. Tommy didn’t trust her.

“Ranboo never breaks things!” Tubbo sounded overly offended, which was hilarious. The look of betrayal he got from the brunette just made him laugh harder.

f*ck, it was nice to feel like a kid for a bit. Hopefully it would last, even if he was sure that whatever god he spited would ruin his day like it normally did. He must’ve done something real f*cked up to them if he was being punished accordingly. Or maybe they were just a dick.

Authority figures did always seem to have it out for him. Not that he didn’t make himself a target. Which wasn’t his fault, honestly. What was the point of putting dumbasses in charge, and then being mad at him for pointing out that they had the reasoning skills of a bag of rocks?

“You do.” Nikki said it lightly, but Tubbo’s entire defense seemed to crumple with it. He perked up almost immediately as he switched his focus back over to Tommy.

“Anyways! He texted me and said his mom was out for most of the week! So we’re going to go take him home!” Tubbo was practically bouncing in his seat. He looked like he was about to f*cking explode.

“Cool.” Tommy wasn’t sure what he was supposed to say to that. He still didn’t like Ranboo. Which was mostly Eret’s fault, but still.

“Oh yeah! Eret told me to warn you to be nice to him.” Tommy rolled his eyes at that, which Tubbo seemed to not notice.

Did Eret forget about how they threatened him already over that motherf*cker? Tommy remembered how f*cking helpless and weak they made him feel. It wasn’t that surprising that they hadn’t cared as much about it.

He wasn’t one to forget.

Chapter 66

Chapter Text

The rest of the day was pretty uneventful. As uneventful as high school life could be, that is. It wasn’t Tommy’s business as to why some older girl was sobbing behind him in his language class. From what he heard from the babbling she was spilling to her friend, the guy wasn’t dating her but somehow cheated?

Honestly, he envied such stupid f*cking problems. If the most he could cry about was some fantasy relationship the other person didn’t even know they were in, his life would be a lot easier. He was probably turning into Wilbur, seeing as he thought he had it worse and all. He didn’t want to be Wilbur.

Tubbo had said something along the lines of ‘don’t get on the bus since we'll drive home’ at lunch, so Tommy found himself leaning against the side of the school as he waited for said guy to show the f*ck up. Granted, they hadn’t actually confirmed a meeting spot. But that didn’t mean that he was going to hunt him down either!

Plus the weird purple haired girl who punched Wilbur and was mildly terrifying was lighting a cigarette on school property across the parking lot. Tommy was pretty sure she was staring at him, but he wasn’t going to check. People like that were easy to piss off.

Tommy was too busy trying to not seem like an easy target that he almost bounced his head off the brick from how hard he jerked upright when someone grabbed him. It was just Tubbo, who didn’t even seem concerned that he just scared the sh*t out of him. If anything, the f*cker looked amused.

f*cking Tubbo.

---

Apparently Tubbo was the one driving them. Which didn't seem too bad of an idea at first. He showed Tommy his permit, explained that they wouldn't be going far, and hopped into the car. He even passed his phone over to let Tommy pick the music from his Spotify.

The issue came when he jacked the seat the entire way up, looked over at him, and said in a too-casual tone that "This is technically illegal, so we're just going to not get pulled over."

Tommy didn't know it was f*cking illegal. If he had just kept his mouth shut, he would've assumed that it was fine that Tubbo was driving. How was it f*cking illegal? Was it because he was short?!

His panicked silence was apparently taken as an invitation to talk about random nonsense. He wasn't totally listening because he was busy praying they didn't get f*cking arrested.

Was he liable if he was in the car too? He was more than okay with throwing Tubbo under the bus for it. He was the one who didn't warn him, after all. So it was undeniably his fault.

Tommy couldn’t exactly back out now, though. He was already lying to Phil about where he was, so he really didn’t need to try and throw some lie at Tubbo about why he needed to back out. They had already missed the bus, so it wasn’t even an option.

Tommy was also starting to realize that he didn’t know Phil’s number. Or the address he had been staying at for the past week. His only option was to call Mariah. She probably would chew him out for all the ‘trouble’ he would cause with it, but it was undeniably safer than what was going on in Phil’s f*cking household.

“Were you listenin’?” Tubbo raised his voice to presumably get his attention, which worked. No, he hadn’t been listening. He was busy trying to deal with the fact that not only was he being kidnapped by someone who shouldn’t be driving, he was also lying to a crazy cult man about his whereabouts.

“Yeah, I was listening.”

Chapter 67

Chapter Text

Tommy wasn't going to say that he was enjoying himself. It wasn't even that long of a trip. But once he actually started to engage in the conversations, he found out that Tubbo wasn't as boring as he seemed.

He wasn't as f*cking soft, either. He had never heard a guy go on a rant about what kind of flowers he liked to decorate with only to follow it with saying something along the lines of 'wasps are all little c*nts'.

Tubbo was a goddamn enigma.

---

The house looked... calm. It wasn't as far away from the road as Phil's was, but it was far enough back that the grassy part of the yard was completely obscured from the road by trees. He might've noticed it earlier if he had bothered to see where Tubbo got off at the bus.

But really, it would've been creepy for him to just watch the guy walk to his house. Not to mention his mind reader older sibling would've mostly likely said something about it. Eret seemed like the type to start sh*t. And to also suck.

"Did you bring pajamas?" Tubbo questioned as he threw the car into park too hard. Tommy didn't know sh*t about driving, but he was pretty sure that he shouldn't have jerked the gearshift so hard since they both almost smacked their heads.

"You don't sleep in your clothes?" No, he didn't bring pajamas. The most he had in his bag was homework he wasn't going to do and Wilbur's fugly yellow sweater he had forgotten to get rid of. He could probably pass it off as another outfit if he needed to.

"Well we'll be outside, so you might need to shower and stuff. I'm sure Eret has something if you need to borrow anything." Tubbo wouldn't look at him when he spoke, and he instantly recognized the tone.

Tubbo was pitying him. Even after he had been put through hell and back, and maybe experienced a new trauma or two that earned it, the idea of being pitied made his stomach churn and his skin crawl. It still felt wrong.

So naturally he laughed it off. Addressing it would only get him more of those looks. Which he didn't want.

"I'm not f*cking homeless, just packed light." He meant it as a joke. He even made sure to keep his smile up as he said it, trying to ease some of the tension.

Was he homeless? Even when he had been stuck in that one household that had made him sleep outside 'when the weather permitted, which was always seeing as they were fine with leaving him out in the rain, he had always been able to go back to the group home.

He didn't like the group home, but it was a moderately safe place to sleep. For all of its faults, he also didn't go to bed legitimately hungry. Which was a pretty low bar, but they met it. A low bar was the only thing keeping him going.

He knew was going to age out soon. He had only seen one other person who was over 18 stay with the system, and he was pretty sure it was because he had some learning disability. Which he didn't judge the guy for, but he was pretty sure that the twenty year old man with brain issues hadn't been getting paid for the work he did around the old group home.

It was probably far from the most illegal sh*t that happened at that place, though. He knew that the staff frequently stole from the kids. Hell, he saw them doing it sometimes. He didn't know any better for a while. Even after he moved out of that sh*thole he still refused to get too attached to any of his belongings.

Was that all he was going to be? He was going to be some reject forever because he couldn't f*cking function in the real world? He definitely wasn't going to work his way into college with his sh*t grades. Not that he would've even been able to pay for it.

He could always go and join a gang.

---

Tubbo's house was oddly inviting. It smelled like flowers. Which was probably from the many, many flowers and vases that were about. Pretty much any flat surface in the entire goddamn house had either a potted plant he didn't recognize, or a vase full of flowers. That he also didn’t recognize.

"Are you allergic to anything? I didn't ask Ranboo and it turns out he's really allergic to verbena. I don't keep them inside anymore because of it. Marigolds aren't as nice in pots, but they don’t hurt him." Tubbo was talking as he went further into the house, kicking his shoes off by the door. He did the same to try and be polite.

Plus he didn’t want to get kicked out of Tubbo’s house.

Tommy could barely tell the difference between dandelions and those wild daisies that grew in the cracks in the sidewalk. Hell, he didn't know the white puffballs were also the dandelions until he disappointed his one biology teacher for asking about it. He had no idea what the f*ck Tubbo was on about.

Not that he usually did. Tubbo could start speaking Spanish half way through a sentence and he probably wouldn't even notice. Tubbo's voice just made really nice background noise. Like ocean waves or those screaming whales.

"-'cause he's not human and all, right? It's why we have to let him out. Ranboo can't leave by himself. But I already told you we figured out he isn't a fairy." What the f*ck had he missed when he had been zoning the f*ck out?! Did Tubbo lose his goddamn mind?!

"Back the f*ck up! Ranboo isn't human? What the hell!" Why did Tubbo say it so casually?!

"I told you Thursday on the way to school! Eret said you weren't getting along so I told you he gets antsy when he has to keep his tail shoved down his slacks!" Tubbo was shouting back at him, seemingly offended. Tommy couldn’t confirm if he was told that since he wasn’t actually listening, but he sure as hell could deny it!

Is that what they had been talking about on the bus?! Tommy hadn't listened to a single one of those conversations! How was he supposed to know Tubbo had said something if he didn't pay attention?

"What do you mean he has a f*cking tail?!" This was completely new information and Tubbo should've been more sympathetic! Honestly, he had a lot on his f*cking plate! Ranboo having a tail wasn't something he should've been expected to be okay with.

"I TOLD THAT YOU ALREADY!" Tubbo looked like he was about ready to fight him. He wasn't about to not shout back at an already agitated guy, though. It was the principal of the matter.

"I WASN'T LISTENING!"

Chapter 68

Chapter Text

Apparently Tubbo had told him a lot of stuff. The whole reason Tubbo had been so insistent that they needed to be friends was because most of the other kids in his grade weren't magic, so he couldn't talk to them about it.

Which he felt bad about, sure. But the fact that Tubbo apparently thought that he would be okay with all the bullsh*t going on just because he was in the Watson household didn't sit well with him. He wasn't a goddamn Watson. He never wanted to be.

Also, it turned out most of the dishes in Tubbo's house were plastic. Which he got to find out once the guy got back from storming off to the kitchen. He had a cup bounced off his head a lot harder than he would've expected. The f*cker was stronger than he looked.

"The f*ck was that for! I already said I was sorry!" Tubbo was crazy!

"You didn't apologize! You said 'I'm sorry you thought I was listening'. I told you so much stuff!" Tubbo sounded actually offended. Tommy would've been upset if he hadn't just had a cup thrown at his f*cking face.

"That's an apology!” It sounded like an apology to him. Hell, it was the only way he ever heard apologies. He was f*cking 15, he knew how to apologize. Tubbo was just sensitive.

“f*ck you it is! I could sting the sh*t out of you right now! Say sorry.” Tubbo was shorter than him, which instantly meant that he was probably also weaker than him. So there wasn’t a chance in hell that he was going to back down.

“Sting me? You think you’re a f*cking ant do ya’?” Did ants sting? He was sticking with it. If he started to back down now, he was practically admitting defeat.

“Just apologize so we can go kidnap Ranboo! You’re gonna waste all our time being a bitch.” Tubbo seemed less likely to punch him, so Tommy took that as a sign that he was the one winning the argument. His body language was more lax, and he stopped being completely red in the face.

“Why’re you tryin’ to kidnap him, anyways? Isn’t that a crime?” Tubbo looked seriously offended at the claim, which he shouldn’t! He was the one stealing children and being creepy! Tommy shouldn’t apologize to a goddamn criminal.

“It’s consensual!”

---

Tubbo got mad at him for laughing at that. But he wasn’t the one who said something stupidly funny. But now he had to sit on the porch while the brunette ‘got changed’. He had no idea what that meant since there wasn’t a reason to change. Hopefully the asshole tripped and fell into mud or sh*t the second he got back outside. He sure deserved it.

Tommy didn’t have time to move before the door was swung open, so he got smacked in the shoulder. He panicked for a second, his throat tightening when he realized what side it had been on. He instinctively grabbed onto the flesh, hopping to fend off the phantom pains threatening him.

“Oh no! Are you okay?” Tubbo was suddenly at his side, his hand clamped firmly on his other shoulder. The contact was the only thing that snapped him out of his thoughts. He knew where he was. And it wasn’t there.

“Fine, big man. Why’re you dressed like a gay farmer?” Tommy needed to change the subject. He didn’t want Tubbo noticing his reaction. It sure as hell wasn’t appropriate considering he had just gotten nudged by the door.

Tubbo seemed legitimately offended by his observation, and stood up. He seriously had to consider if he was about to be kicked, but thankfully Tubbo just flipped him off. Tommy wasn’t sure if he could’ve survived a kick to the ribs from those f*cking boots.

“What if I am a gay farmer? That’s not an insult, Tommy.” Tommy had to wonder if he was going to get his ass beat by someone in green overalls and a striped shirt. He was also in a pair of those work boots old men wore in movies about working in factories. Tubbo looked ridiculous in his opinion, but he still dressed better than Wilbur.

Which was a pretty low bar.

“What’dya mean?” Tommy wasn’t sure what he meant, since he heard it used as an insult all the time. Had Tubbo not heard it like that before? He pretty much admitted that he didn’t have a lot of friends, so it made sense. Poor guy.

“Being gay isn’t a bad thing, Tommy. The word means happy. Don’t use it as an insult.” Tubbo seemed to know what he was talking about. But he wasn’t sure what he was being told.

“You haven’t heard it like that before?” He wasn’t sure what point Tubbo was trying to make to him.

“I have. And it’s offensive. This isn’t a good place, but you don’t have to be part of the problem. You’re your own person.” With that, Tubbo started down the steps and towards the car.

The only other time he was called a person was by Phil. It didn’t sit well with him.

---

“Are you actually listening to me this time?” Tommy picked his head up off of the window, turning to his friend in the driver’s seat. Tubbo was focused on the road, but he could see the guy peeking at him from the corner of his eye.

“What was that?” Tubbo visibly slumped down for a moment, seemingly dejected. Before he noticed that Tommy was doing a poor job of containing his laughter. He got a napkin thrown at his face. It missed, since Tubbo was an idiot.

“I’m serious! There's important stuff I’ve been telling you, and you ignored me the first time.” Tubbo seemed upset, so he had the decency to look sheepish about the accusation. He wasn’t a complete asshole. It wasn’t like he actually felt bad.

“Sorry. Just been a lot goin’ on.” It wasn’t a lie. He did have a lot of sh*t thrown at his face in a very small span of time. It wasn’t like he was happy that he didn’t know what Tubbo had told him. Even if the guy chose to dress like a farmer American Girl doll, he probably knew a bit of what was going on.

“I know you’ve been stressed. ‘t’s why Eret said to be nice to you. You wanna talk about it?” Tubbo was looking at him a lot more, turning his head and being a lot less subtle than he had been a bit before.

“Sure. What don’t you know?” Tommy only agreed because he was scared of Tubbo not watching the goddamn road. He didn’t need to talk about his feelings or anything. Their wasn’t anything to talk about.

“How’s things been going? You were real bitchy today.” Tubbo was probably just trying to keep the conversation light, but it left a bad taste in his mouth. If he was bitchy, it was because his life was falling apart around him.

“Just sh*t, ya’ know? Wilbur’s been f*cking with me is all.” It wasn’t technically a lie. But he wasn’t about to tell Tubbo everything. That was weird to unload on someone he barely knew.

“Yeah. Just tell Phil he skips math class to have sex in the locker room near the auditorium. I don’t know if it’s true, but I wouldn’t put it past him.” Tubbo said one of the worst things he had ever had to hear like it was nothing. He didn’t want to think about Wilbur doing stuff! He was a goddamn child, he wasn’t supposed to have to deal with that kind of sh*t.

“He f*cking what?” Hopefully Tubbo was just suggesting that he tell the evil cult bitch that his son was a whor* when he actually wasn’t. He didn’t want to know whether or not Wilbur was having sex at school.

“Oh yeah, he does a lot of that stuff. Eret thinks I don’t pay attention to that stuff, but I’m not stupid. That Wilbur guy gets around. He also usually has gum from what I’ve heard. But it’s usually cinnamon. How crazy is that? It’s the worst flavor.”

What the f*ck was Tubbo talking about? Why did he just jump from Wilbur allegedly being a whor* to f*cking gum?! Honestly, Tommy could see how the guy let important information slip. He seemed happy just to talk. Which was probably because he wanted to be listened to.

Tommy knew what it was like to not be listened to, so the least he could do was to stop zoning out when Tubbo got going. The poor f*ck.

“So what were you saying about Ranboob? He has a f*cking tail?” Tommy waited until Tubbo stopped to take in some air before he changed the subject. Not that he wasn’t completely invested in what color of M&Ms the ants in Tubbo’s back yard preferred.

“Oh, yeah! His teeth are all spiky and stuff, so he usually keeps his mask on even when it’s just us. He stopped letting them grow out, but you should’ve seen his claws. I think his ears used to be pointy, too. But that was… before.” Tubbo’s expression suddenly darkened considerably, and he tightened his grip on the wheel hard enough that Tommy could see his knuckles going white.

Tommy was pretty sure that asking what ‘before’ was would be a bad idea.

Chapter 69

Chapter Text

The rest of the car ride was a bit tense. Whatever Tubbo had brought up, he clearly pissed himself off. Which made Tommy even less curious about what could’ve caused such a reaction in the guy. If it was that bad, he didn’t need to worry about it as well. Tubbo could keep that sh*t to himself.

Plus it was apparently something that happened to Ranboo, which made him even less willing to worry about it. He didn’t like Ranboo. Eret already made it apparent that he had it a lot worse than Tommy ever did. Even if it didn’t come from the black and white boy himself, it still made Tommy hate him.

“Sorry.” Came out of nowhere, pulling him out of his thoughts. He spared a glance at the car radio, who declared that it had been a meager five minutes of silence. It had felt so much longer.

“What for?” Tommy knew what the brunette meant, but he was going to pretend he didn’t. He was going to try and pretend like the silence hadn’t been making his skin crawl. That would mean admitting that he enjoyed when Tubbo’s rambling filled the silence.

“For saying… that. His mom just pisses me off.” Tubbo shifted his grip on the wheel. Turning his head a bit as he shot a glance over at Tommy. If he was trying to be discrete, he shouldn’t turn his entire f*cking head.

Especially when he was driving. Tubbo leagues above Techno when it came to driving, but Tommy would fear for his life if he had more going for him. He was pretty sure the only reason they weren’t dead in a blazing mess of metal and tires was because Tubbo seemed to remember that he had breaks. Gagging when the seatbelt dug into his throat was a lot less inconvenient than smashing into a tree while going around a bend at 90 miles an hour.

“Why?” Tommy could probably guess based on context clues, but it was clear that Tubbo was probably going to tell him anyways. He might as well let the guy speak.

“She just- She’s a doctor, right? So she’s the one that did that to him! How f*cked is it to operate on a baby?! She’s a sh*t person, but Ranboo’s scared to leave. Trust me, I’ve offered to let him stay with us. Says he can’t because of energy or something and the flowers in the yard.”

Tommy just nodded along as Tubbo spoke, thankful that he seemed to shake less as he got it off his chest. He felt a bit worse about hating Ranboo so much since apparently his mom f*cking cut into him. He didn’t know sh*t about any of that. But to be fair, no one told him. Eret could’ve done a better job of threatening him, honestly.

“He can’t sleep with that stuff in the yard. Which he didn’t tell me at first! He came over the night she left for a trip because she had tried to file his teeth down like a maniac, and you know what he did?” Tommy didn’t answer, assuming that he was going to be told the answer. He was right, seeing as Tubbo just used the pause to take a breath.

“He just stayed awake for three days! Without telling me! The only reason I found out was because he bumped into Eret, and they felt how tired he was. He honestly needs to take better care of himself, even if he can’t starve to death.”

What the f*ck did that mean? Eret could apparently read minds and sh*t, so why hadn’t they noticed sooner? The only thing he could think of was that they chose to give Ranboo his privacy. But didn’t give him the same. Which wasn’t shocking. Tommy wasn’t anyone’s favorite as far as he could tell.

It was probably because he was unlikeable.

---

Tommy wasn’t sure where the f*ck they were. Tubbo had driven straight past town, and into what looked like more woods. He was still freaked out by how endless the trees seemed to be. They pretty much swallowed anything, including the road.

“We can get something on the way back to the house. Ranboo might need the front seat.” Tubbo practically spat the last part, like he was expecting Tommy to not hear him.

He was actually listening to him for once, so he most definitely did. Why did Ranboo need the front seat?! If it was anything other than him getting violently carsick, there was no way in hell that Tommy was going to just give up his seat.

“I’m not giving him the front seat.” Tommy was going to stick to his guns, even if it turned out that he was being an asshole.

Tubbo made a sour face, but didn’t turn to look at him. He was pretty sure that it was the end of the conversation. Tommy would get to keep his seat in the front.

“He likes to play with the buttons, okay? If he’s leaning up from the back it’s going to be way more suspicious. There's like three cops in town, so they’re not easy to lie to since they’ll recognize you.” Was Tubbo just making sh*t up? Tommy wasn’t an idiot, he wasn’t going to fall for something so stupid.

“Oh yeah? So it’s better that he fiddles with the temperature and sh*t the whole time? You’re bad at lying.” Tommy wasn’t expecting the brakes to be slammed in the middle of the f*cking road. He also wasn’t expecting the look Tubbo was giving him. He suddenly felt a lot less safe.

“Tommy, give him the front seat. It’s the least you can do after I told you so much personal sh*t only for you to ignore me.” Tubbo wasn’t glaring, but the frown on his face mixed with the piercing look in his eye made Tommy feel like he was in f*cking trouble.

He tried to hold the guy’s gaze, not exactly excited about backing down. Tubbo was smaller than him, and he wasn’t some bitch. Tubbo wasn’t f*cking blinking. It wasn’t like he didn’t need to, considering the fact that his eyes were watering. It looked painful.

What point was he going to prove by making himself cry?! All he was doing was making Tommy uncomfortable- Oh.

“Fine! f*ck.” Tommy didn’t want to admit defeat, but he wasn’t happy to continue the tense starring contest in the middle of the f*cking woods with the person who was driving. Plus the trees crowding the road made him feel like they were about to snap down like fingers, trapping him and dragging him off to whatever lurked between the trees.

“Thank you for not being a bitch.” Tubbo’s attitude did a complete 180 as he got the car moving again. He even went back to chatting happily like he had before mentioning Ranboo’s mother.

Tubbo was weird.

---

“-basically jumps out the window. But sometimes he doesn’t throw his stuff down first, and it’s really funny to watch him have to climb back in. So don’t remind him.” Tubbo had been talking about how they usually got Ranboo out of his house. Tommy was seeing a big flaw in their plan already.

“Why not use the door?” It sounded like it would be a hell of a lot easier. Not that he didn’t want to watch Ranboo haul his lanky ass back through a two story window. It just sounded like it would waste more time than needed.

He wasn’t going to tell Tubbo why being so deep in the woods made him nervous. As open as Tubbo was with him, he didn’t feel like he should’ve been talking about what was going on with him. Tubbo needed a friend and all, but Tommy did just fine on his own.

Even though he was staying over at the guy’s house for an undetermined amount of time because he wanted to get the f*ck away from Phil. But that was unrelated. Especially since Tubbo was the one to offer! Tubbo was the one excited about the sleepover, he wasn’t. Not for the same reasons, at least.

“His mom has one of those smart locks on the door so she knows when he leaves. All the doors, actually. There's some kind of sensor on most of the windows, too. The only reason the one in the spare bathroom doesn’t work is because the battery died in it.” Tubbo’s expression soured for a moment as he spoke about her, but he quickly resumed his rambling.

“He actually used to sneak out through the basem*nt window, since those don’t have them since they’re not easy to get through. Like those little ones that let light in? It was like watching an octopus squeeze through a hole. But so much worse since he didn’t actually fit.”

Tommy didn’t know sh*t about octpuses. He didn’t have a reason to. But he did know how bad it was to try and squeeze through one of those sh*tty basem*nt windows. He had to do it a couple of times, most of them being that house where the man locked him in the basem*nt while he had ‘company’ over.

But he was not being sympathetic to Ranboo just because he knew how bad those things scratched your shoulder’s up. Ranboo was still a bitch. They were not going to be friends or anything just because Tommy’s shoulder would click when it got too cold from having to do the same thing for a few months.

“It’s weird to see him climb, too. Have you seen his claws? He trims them so he doesn’t get in trouble, but his nails grow in black from it. I guess you haven’t seen his tail either. He gets mad when you grab it. But it only gets yanked once he jumps away from me, so it’s pretty much his fault.”

If this was how Tubbo normally talked, Tommy probably would’ve known sh*t a lot sooner. Tubbo probably would’ve told him whatever he wanted to know if he had just bothered to ask.

“So what is he?” Tommy wasn’t sure how to word his question, but he wasn’t sure that it was impolite. Was he being racist? Ranboo had a f*cking tail, but was he a little bit human?

Tubbo didn’t answer for a bit, instead suddenly focused on the road. He hadn’t kept his eyes so still ahead of him since they had started off. Tommy somehow felt even less safe than when he hadn’t kept his attention solely on driving.

“We don’t know.” Came after a tense stretch of silence. Tommy had assumed that Tubbo had been kidding when he said that they weren’t sure. How did they both not know what Ranboo was?! Ranboo should’ve at least known!

“Why? He f*cking- It’s not like there’s a lot he could be. Just Google it.” Tommy knew how stupid his answer to the situtation was, but it had never failed him before. Hell, it was how he got most of his information. If it wasn’t for Google and public internet in libraries and coffee shops, he’d probably be very dead.

“Wh- How are we supposed to ask Google what species he is, you idiot! You can’t look up ancestry sh*t if you don’t know where to start.” Tubbo said it like it was something he should’ve known.

“Sounds like you can’t use Google.” Tommy was just edging him on because he was getting bored, but it was probably true. If Tommy could raise himself off of the use of a search engine, then there was a pretty good chance that it could help with whatever weird sh*t was going on with boob boy.

“Shut the f*ck- We’re here.” Tubbo cut himself off from cussing him out as some kind of gate came into view. The road had been dirt just a moment ago, but the path behind and just in front of the oddly ornate bars seemed actually furnished. The high stone walls seemed to go off in either direction, their true reach obscured by the woods that swallowed them.

“How are we getting past the closed gate, you dickhe*d.” It was pretty clearly shut. But Tubbo was still driving towards it. Tommy clamped his eyes shut and tried to relax, fully expecting for them to f*cking die as they collided with the metal.

Instead, the seatbelt went into his throat as he was thrown forward suddenly. He took a moment to realize it was Tubbo’s sh*t breaking skills and not from a collision with the metal they had been hurtling towards just seconds before.

“We climb! The fence stays locked all the time. It’s easier to get back over since Ranboo helps. Together it should be easy.” Tubbo pretty much flung his door open as soon as he threw the car into park, leaving the car while it was still on.

Tommy turned the key and took it out, not wanting to run out of gas and be stranded in the middle of the goddamn woods. That, and having something to fiddle with usually helped to calm his nerves. Not that he was f*cking anxious! He had no reason to be!

He shut his door behind him, going to turn back. Something moved across the reflection of the window, just slow enough that he caught it in the corner of his eye. Tommy could feel the bile rising in his throat as he turned to face the glass, not wanting to see what was behind him.

It was something, and it seemed familiar. He blinked, and suddenly it was gone. It wasn’t skin, he realized. Skin didn’t look like that. There was a sickening scent in the air. Like something that had rotted away a long time ago.

His heartbeat was pounding in his ears, his chest feeling like there was fluid splashing around in his lungs. It was as if the air he was trying to pull in was only going so deep, and mixing with whatever tar was starving him of clarity. Something grabbed him, and he didn’t realize that he screamed until he heard laughing.

Laughing?

“TUBBO!” Tommy damn near pissed himself, and the f*cker was laughing so hard he couldn’t keep himself upright. What an asshat. Didn’t he know Tommy was trying to deal with all the magical crazy sh*t that kept reappearing?!

Tubbo tried to respond, but the only thing that came out what a choked wheeze. He had righted himself enough to actually inhale, beaming up at him like he was proud of himself.

“It’s only me, you don’t have to be a baby about it.” Tubbo was still snickering, but the words hit a lot harder than intended. The weight in his chest made it feel like he was still sinking as he spoke.

“You're not what I was worried about getting me.”

Chapter 70

Chapter Text

The silence that followed was deafening. He was pretty sure that time actually froze for a few of those tense moments as Tubbo’s gaze just bore into his soul. Until Tubbo broke the veil of suffocating quiet that hung between them.

“The f*ck is that supposed to mean? We’re all alone out here, Tommy.” Tubbo spoke like he was so sure of himself, like he couldn’t feel it. Like the trees weren’t reaching for him.

Maybe he couldn’t, maybe they weren’t.

“Just, not used to the woods ‘n sh*t I guess.”

---

If Tubbo knew that he was lying, he didn’t mention it. If he didn’t know he was lying, then it was because he was an idiot. Especially since Tommy gave the sh*ttiest excuse imaginable for what his little spaz fit was about.

It was nice to deal with someone he could lie to, though. As horrible as it was, he had missed being able to keep things hidden from other people. Mind readers and ‘empaths’ had become such a common occurrence that he had just started to accept that he wouldn’t get to keep his thoughts to himself anymore.

He could do without Tubbo trying to f*cking kill him, though.

“It’s perfectly safe! Just do what I’m doing and then don’t roll off the side once you get on top of the wall or you’ll break both your legs.” Tubbo looked comically small in comparison to the looming wall of stone bricks.

Then he just started climbing the f*cking thing like it was nothing. He would’ve been impressed if he wasn’t also horrified. Tubbo was like five feet tall, and he just hauled his ass up and over ten feet of stone wall like it was nothing. There was no way in hell that Tommy could do that.

He wasn’t about to admit that someone who was practically half his height could do something he couldn’t, though. Even though there wasn’t anything to grab in order to try and get up the wall. Tubbo had seemingly just scaled it out of pure force of will. So why couldn’t he?

It wasn’t like Tubbo was stronger than him.

---

Tubbo was stronger than him. As humiliating as it was, it was also partially terrifying. After the asshole had gotten done laughing at him for not being able to get up the wall on his own, he offered to help Tommy get up the wall. Which seemed fine in theory, right?

Until the motherf*cker got ahold of his wrist and yanked hard enough that he was sure that his arm was getting ripped off at the shoulder. He could practically hear his elbows popping out of place.

It was somehow worse when Tubbo got a hold of his other arm, lifting him up fast enough that he barely had time to brace his legs against the wall. He was so small. Why was he so goddamn strong?!

"See? Teamwork." Tubbo chirped, beaming like he hadn't just almost ripped Tommy's arms off. His joints were legitimately sore, and he wouldn’t be surprised if they were ripped or something. Could you rip joints?

Maybe it was because Tommy was all skin and bones that he was tossed around so easily. Or maybe Tubbo was just secretly a gym rat, and that was the real reason he seemed to have no friends. Eret didn't seem like the type to exercise, what with being a bitch and also blind, so it seemed like a pretty decent way to get away from the f*cker.

"You damn near killed me. I'm f*ckin’ dead." Tommy huffed out, tossing his legs over the other side of the wall to mimic how Tubbo was sitting. He was trying to roll his shoulders in an attempt to ease some of the stress put on them. It honestly felt like Tubbo had tried to tear them off.

He hoped it had been on purpose, because having it be an accident was somehow more terrifying. Tommy was never much of a physical fighter, so the idea of being so secluded with someone who could outright overpower him was stirring something in his chest.

But it was just Tubbo, right?

---

“So, what was that? Earlier, I mean. You seemed… off.” They had been walking in silence for almost a full five minutes to the point that Tommy had assumed that Tubbo had run out of things to talk about. Which he had been wrong about, clearly.

His expression soured as he found something ahead of them to focus his gaze on, trying to ignore the eyes he could feel burrowing into the side of his skull. Why was he staring?

“‘ts nothing, big man.” He lied, trying to keep his tone airy enough that he sounded tired and not meek. Which he probably f*cked up. He was clearly being obvious enough with everything else that Tubbo of all people had managed to notice that he was off.

“Bullsh*t. I know somethings wrong, Tommy. You can talk to me. I clearly trust you enough to tell you stuff.” The last part was grumbled low enough that he probably wasn’t supposed to hear it. He wished he hadn’t, considering the nerve that it struck.

“Talking about it isn’t going to make any of it better.” His gaze was focused on the paved road a few inches in front of his feet, glaring into the material like it had wronged him. Why couldn’t Tubbo just drop it? It wasn’t like there was a reason to care.

“It doesn’t fix it, but it helps. I didn’t tell you I have pretty much no friends my age because I wanted you to give me a solution, ya’ know. I told you because it’s nice to be heard.” He spared a glance, and confirmed his suspicion that Tubbo was indeed staring at him. He knew it wasn’t malicious, but there was still a moment of panic as wondered what the brunette was looking for.

He considered what he was being told for a long moment, mulling over the options before him. Tubbo clearly wanted him to talk, and a part of him wanted to go on a rant about the horrors that had been thrown at his face nonstop since he arrived. He decided on just cherry-picking his words, since he wasn’t sure he wanted anyone else to have blackmail on him.

“It’s just- The magic sh*t, ya’ know. It- f*cking bullsh*t, all of it.” Tubbo nodded along like he had strung together a coherent thought and didn’t just babble out a string of nonsensical curses.

“Yeah, I get it. Did you deal with it before? I’d probably be all f*cked up if I found out I could hear bugs if I just couldn’t for sixteen years.” Tommy was surprised at how well Tubbo was taking it. But it was normal for him. The idea of magic crazy sh*t wasn’t a new concept to the shorter boy.

“No.” He was quick to answer, but almost immediately regretted it. Did he deal with it before? It felt like he was forgetting something, and honestly the humming under his fingertips when something happened wasn’t foreign to him. “I don’t know.”

“It’s different for everyone, I guess. Eret and I are pretty sure of what we can do and all, but then there's people like you. It f*cking sucks when you don’t have someone to show you how the hell everything’s supposed to work. I don’t think I would’ve gotten as far as I am if Eret wasn’t literally a mind reader.”

Tubbo talked with his hands a lot, which turned out to be a lot less horrifying when he wasn’t also driving. What he was saying was also actually making sense, even if Tubbo wasn’t giving him any useful information. For once, he didn’t mind the seemingly useless small talk. Maybe Tubbo was right.

It was nice to be listened to.

Chapter 71

Chapter Text

He didn’t know Tubbo had pulled something out until there was suddenly a cloud of smoke in his face, the plume of acidic smog unfortunately very recognizable. He was sure he would’ve been one of the ones at the group home to end up addicted if he wasn’t watched so closely. That, and being fostered by more than one smoking household had put him off of it.

They had been talking only a moment ago, and he had been comfortable enough in the silence to follow a pace back as he tailed the shorter boy. He had assumed that the silence was just going to last until they got to whatever shack in the middle of the woods that Ranboo lived in. Now his eyes were burning and he had to fight the urge to cough on himself.

“sh*t- Thought I was downwind of you, sorry.” Tubbo stopped in his tracks, and even made a point of falling back behind him. The smoke that left him as he spoke seemed completely out of place considering what he was wearing. Mint overalls and lung cancer didn’t match.

“Smoking’s bad for you.” Was all he could think to say, and he barely caught the change in expression before he had to move out of the way of ashes being flicked at him. He knew how easily that f*cking smell stuck in everything around it.

“Smoking’s bad for you.” He f*cking mocked, his gaze a lot sharper even after his initial change in expression softened. “I f*cking know that. Don’t expect me to offer you a fa*g.”

“Don’t like the smell.” He offered, finding something else to look at. He could practically hear Tubbo’s agitation. Why was it such a touchy f*cking subject? It wasn’t like it was normal for kids their age to smoke when they came from good households.

“I- Sorry, Toms. Want some gum?” Apparently his tone was dejected enough that Tubbo defaulted to f*cking pitying him.

He shouldn’t have said anything.

---

Tubbo had f*cking mango gum. The only good flavors were any sort of mint, and sometimes peppermint. It dulled the smell he was trying to ignore. If he could ignore magic sh*t, he could ignore how the scent of cigarette smoke coming from behind him made him brace for whatever beating he expected. It was fine.

“You seem upset.” Came from behind him, which was a lot closer than he expected. He didn’t flinch.

“Are you okay?” The only thing that kept him from tripping over himself from how violently he jerked away was the grip on his arm, and even that had him panicked for a second. It was just Tubbo.

“I’m fine, big man. Nothing wrong here.” He tried to crack a smile, ignoring how the f*cker seemed to look through him. Was that just a family trait? Was Nikki going to do that sh*t to him next?!

“f*ck you it is! Is it the woods? It’s not usually a problem for me, but I helped Ranboo bury nailed on the side of the path. Just don’t leave the gravel and you’ll be good.” Tubbo with a kind smile before taking a long drag, flicking the ashes off before loosening his grip.

Tommy shook it off, ignoring how he might’ve come off as rude for it. He had no traumatic memories associated with the smell of cigarettes. Even if he did, it wasn’t anyone’s business.

“Why’d you bury nails?” He started walking again, hoping to keep the conversation going. He didn’t need to dwell on it. He didn’t want Tubbo to have long enough of a pause to think it over either.

“Something about faeries not liking them. Cold iron, I think. I already told you about how we found out it burns him, so he can’t go over them either. You should’ve seen when that rat snake was on the path the one time. He tried to jump away from it, right?”

The pause was probably a mix of Tubbo getting a breath in, but Tommy tried to act like he was listening this time. Especially since he had no idea what the f*ck Tubbo meant about the iron thing. Or the goddamn fairies?! It was probably one of the things he had tuned out, and he didn’t want Tubbo to know that he had missed it since it seemed mildly important.

The little sh*t had pretty much tripled his knowledge about everything in the past two hours he had been actually paying attention to what came out of his mouth. It was apparently worthwhile to pay attention to whatever Tubbo said. He was pretty sure things would’ve been going a lot better if he had just listened to him. He had probably gone over whatever the f*ck was up with Phil with his luck.

“So he went to jump, but it was me or the path. So he goes and tries to jump into me! He’s so much bigger than me, Tommy. It was practically assault. I just stepped out of the way and let him fall since he would’ve crushed me. He hit the gravel bad enough that he scraped the sh*t out of his arm and knee. So now there's a first aid kit in the car, since Eret freaked out when they saw the blood all over the seat.”

“How’d you get blood everywhere?” Tommy wasn’t a stranger to injuries, but scrapes didn’t bleed that bad. If Ranboo had a f*cking tail and sh*t, maybe he had extra blood? Ranboo being some sort of blood stuffed gusher man stopped being as funny once the visual hit him.

“He’s an idiot, that’s why! I didn’t do sh*t. I told him to keep pressure on it, and what does he do? He f*cking checks it every goddamn minute so it wouldn’t just clot. All I had in the car were those sh*tty tissues, so it was getting caught when it clotted, right? He was just reopening it for ten minutes.” Ranboo didn’t have extra blood, he was just a moron. Noted.

“If I hadn’t been busy speeding, I would’ve smacked him.”

Chapter 72

Chapter Text

Tubbo not being good at driving wasn’t an isolated incident, apparently. He liked to go faster than he was supposed to, and Tommy thought it was a f*cking miracle that he hadn’t killed himself or someone else in a motor vehicle accident. He made Techno seem like a safe driver, which was a horrifically low bar. But Tubbo was short.

The wind finally changed directions enough that he couldn’t f*cking smell the smoke behind him, which was also helping his mood. Tubbo thankfully didn’t light anything else. Tommy wasn’t sure if he could pretend it was fine and deal with the sh*tball that was Ranboo.

It wasn’t totally the guy’s fault, though. Even though he seemed to suck all by himself, Eret really f*cked up his perception of their little encounter. He was so goddamn quiet. And stupidly tall!

He was also better.

He shook himself out for a second, realizing almost a second too late that he was about to run right into Tubbo. Which would’ve been bad considering the shorter boy was apparently f*cking built. He probably would’ve gone on his ass from it. Or with his luck, he would’ve managed to get himself f*cking injured from it.

“We’re here!” Tubbo practically chirped, his expression picking up a sickening amount. Tommy wasn’t sure why he seemed so excited about having to deal with boob-boy.

That was a good nickname. That’s what he was going to call Ranboo. It wasn’t like he had anything to lose by being rude to the asshole. He got sh*t for not being an ass. It wasn’t like he could get any lower than that.

It wasn’t like Tubbo was the only one to like the other boy more.

---

Tommy wasn’t sure what he pictured when Tubbo said something about Ranboo having to go out the window. He imagined…. not what he was looking at currently. He wasn’t sure how either of them thought that it was a good f*cking idea.

Tubbo had made him wait further away, making up some excuse about how ‘Ranboo tends to fall forward’ or some sh*t. It was probably because even his dense ass could tell that he wasn’t too stoked to be hanging out with the bitch. It wasn’t like it was his idea for all three of them to be hanging out.

It was just too late to back out, especially since Phil would definitely notice that he hadn’t come home on the bus. As negligent as that man was, he could probably do a headcount. Or not, seeing as Wilbur seemed to have f*cking vanished.

He wasn’t sure why he felt like he had something to do with it. Memories and fever dreams might as well have been the same sh*t. Some of the sh*t that could very well have happened just yesterday seemed fuzzy around the edges. For all he knew, he had been hallucinating everything. Which was a nice thought, since it would mean he was the problem.

He saw the mismatched flip flops being thrown out the window first, watching as Tubbo managed to catch both of them like it was nothing. Why was Tubbo good at sh*t? He went on a rant about what kind of daisies were nicer, he had no right to be good at physical sh*t.

It just didn’t make sense. It was like if someone’s ninety year old grandmother knitted them a sweater and then went and taught them some kind of kung fu. He didn’t even know what kung fu was. He was vaguely sure that it was a mai-tai.

“You have your glasses?” Tubbo called up, the smile only growing as he spoke. Tommy was not jealous or disgusted. He was neither of those things even a little bit.

He heard some kind of noise coming from the crack in the window, since the tall idiot apparently didn’t think to move the curtains aside at all. Which probably would’ve made Tommy more visible. He didn’t completely blame Tubbo for trying to hide him from Ranboo, if that was what he was doing.

The next thing he saw made him seriously consider what the f*ck he was looking at. He thought that maybe the dumb f*ck was somehow trying to go out elbow first. Which would’ve made more sense than what he was actually doing. Then he realized those were his f*cking feet.

Ranboo somehow thought that it was a good idea to come out the window on his f*cking back. Tommy has watched naked men come out of windows more gracefully, which was pretty f*cking sad. The dumb sh*t couldn’t even match his goddamn socks.

He watched as the freak managed to wiggled himself out like some kind of sick snake regurgitation video. Tommy was surprised that he hadn’t somehow managed to snap his spine in half with how his legs hung out awkwardly. What the f*ck was he thinking?!

It was honestly like a train wreck, and he couldn’t manage to pull his gaze away from the scene. Especially once he saw something wagging between the guy’s legs. He averted his gaze for a second, assuming the worst had happened and the windowsill had won against the khaki shorts. Until he realized the shape was down to his f*cking ankles.

Tommy realized quickly that Ranboo was not in fact indecent, but that their was a f*cking thingy wipping between his legs as he shimmied out of the tight space. Their was a tuff of f*cking hair at the end of it, like someone has glued a wad of felt to a rat’s ass. It looked like a rat’s tail, too. Ranboo was a giant f*cking rat man.

“Don’t jump-” Tommy didn’t realize what Tubbo was yelling about until he saw Ranboo kick himself off from the wall, his feet planted in a way that was clearly going to send him on his f*cking face. He reminded Tommy of the time he saw a dead bird get flopped off of a building by the wind.

Watching him take Tubbo down was pretty funny, though. Ranboo easily dwarfed him even though Tubbo was some kind of super-powered secret bodybuilder or some sh*t. Ranboo clearly didn’t notice him as Tubbo shrieked and attempted to wrestle him off. It wasn’t much of a fight.

A hard shove and what looked like a kick in the stomach had Ranboo off of him enough that he was getting up, both of them laughing like it was normal. They seemed so calm and happy and carefree. It was disgusting.

He wasn’t sure why Ranboo picked his head up to look at him. He wasn’t sure why they immediately made eye contact, the angle making his weird fangs on clear display. He didn’t know why his expression dropped so fast. What he did know, however, was that his pupils weren’t supposed to f*cking do that.

Tommy totally did not in fact scream.

Chapter 73