Chapter Text
“What in the living fuck took you so long?”
Tommy sighed as he dropped his bag from his shoulder and into his palm, stepping across the threshold of the home base. “Niki wanted me around late to test out the equipment. I should have called you, sorry.”
Tubbo crossed his arms. “Yeah, you fucking should have, you cunt. I don’t know if you realize that while you’re gone, I’m the only one around here willing to do your fucking babysitting,” he hissed, gesturing angrily in the direction of the couch, where Slime was sleeping soundly. “You know how difficult it is to keep an eye on him all while I’m sitting here waiting for you to stop fucking lollygagging? I've been waiting all day to actually talk to you about the mission that’s getting us five thousand credits .”
“Okay- first off, it’s not babysitting, he’s a grown fucking man- secondly, you can’t blame me for this shit, you know what I told you about Sam, and you know why I’ve been helping at the cafe.” Tommy pushed past Tubbo, who did nothing more than scrunch his nose as he followed Tommy to his room, watching him tap the handle to get the door to slide open before immediately throwing his bag down onto his bed. “I’ll bring Slime next time if you’re so fucking pressed about it, but I’m here now, so fucking tell me what you need to tell me.”
Tubbo sneered, reaching down and roughly grabbing Tommy’s wrist, dragging him across the hallway into his own room. The boy angrily slammed his fist into the button that stuck to the wall next to his door, forcing it open before the motion sensor had the chance to work on its own.
“Now, shut the fuck up and listen,” he ordered, and Tommy found himself being shoved onto the beanbag behind Tubbo's desk chair, earning a glare before the boy turned to his computer.
He rolled his eyes, slouching back.
It took a full ass three hours for Tubbo to finish his rant, going over the details of Karl Jacobs’ case and discussing the plan, which by then, Tommy was about ready to pass out where he stood. So he decided to assume the only hard part about falling asleep would be the act of getting ready for bed.
Of course, he should have known it wouldn’t be that easy. Barely two seconds after his head hit the pillow, all of the tiredness left him- replaced with some odd sense of anxiety that made him groan and want to bury his head so deep into the fabric that he wouldn’t be able to breathe.
Tommy was used to disorder. He was used to inconsistencies. His friends were all over the place all the time, they left and they came back, they left and sometimes they didn’t.
Tommy had learned to distract from the pit of dread that always took root in his stomach when the thought came to mind. But when it was three in the morning, and the only thing to occupy his thoughts was himself- well, it wasn’t very easy to do that.
So, naturally, he did the next best thing. He pulled out his phone and opened social media.
The first thing he was met with upon opening his browser was a headline about Prince Theseus, which- yeah, he should have expected that. What was it, three days until the fucker’s birthday? A lot of people were going to be talking about him.
“Prince Theseus: Still Missing since his Disappearance at 6 Years Old - What Really Happened?” it read, and Tommy, despite knowing nearly every fucking detail about the disappearance from his years of the incident being shoved into his face, found his morbid curiosity getting the better of him. He tapped it.
"Prince Theseus, otherwise known as the youngest son of the Arctic Empire, vanished suddenly at the age of six years old, ten years ago this week.
As most of the citizens of the Arctic Empire are aware- notably residents at its capital, L’manburg, where the castle stands- Prince Theseus was a bright young soul that had a long and fruitful career ahead of him that was taken from him far too soon-"
Tommy rolled his eyes. He didn’t miss the past-tense of it all; something that most certainly wasn’t unique to this one article. It always confused him when people did that. Wasn’t the whole point of writing an article to raise awareness about the guy? Encourage people to get off their asses and start looking again? He didn’t see what the point of talking about him like he'd been dead the whole time was if they were so desperate to believe he wasn’t.
He skipped ahead a few paragraphs. He didn't want to read that hypocritical shit.
"Based on the accounts of the royal family, on the night prior to the boy’s seventh birthday, he went to bed at 10 PM standard after saying goodnight to his brothers, Prince Technoblade and Prince Wilbur, the latter of which telling him a bedtime story.
Approximately three hours later, the Young Prince’s personal guards were alerted of something wrong within Prince Theseus’ private quarters, hearing the sound of breaking glass and the short beginnings of a panicked yell, which was quickly cut off by an unknown force. But by the time they got to the other side of the door, there was barely a sign of the boy."
Tommy scrolled past a picture of the scene- an empty bed and broken window, filling the space of a child's sleeping quarters that seemed larger than his base's own living room. If Tommy squinted, he could just barely make out a small droplet of blood that clung to one of the shards of broken glass, something that gave him the shivers. Sure, he wasn't invested in the case, but it wasn’t like he was completely heartless. It was fucked up that a boy so young fell victim to something so horrible just because he had the misfortune of existing in a political atmosphere.
"Following the disappearance, Prince Technoblade, the first in line for the throne, whilst also being the first in command for the royal guard, quickly became the forefront of the physical searches while his twin, Prince Wilbur, began contacting other countries for information or assistance in the search effort. Little is known about how the Emperor himself reacted to the news. It took multiple days before he made his first public appearance, and he looked worse for wear. No one can blame him for that.
Despite the ten years we as an empire have had to search for the boy, barely more than alleged sightings have occurred, and there have been no leads about what happened that night other than rumors stemming from the lack of a firsthand account of the event.
Below we have a computer-generated image of what Prince Theseus would look like at age seventeen, using the images and portraits of the boy prior to his disappearance as a baseline."
Tommy scrolled further down and found a jolt going down his spine, nearly dropping his phone in the process, because for a split second, he was almost convinced that he’d just read through a cleverly disguised exposé about himself.
The boy had practically the same eyes as him, the same hair, hell- he even had the same smile. If Tommy hadn't known there were no pictures of himself when he was young, he would've thought this boy might have been him.
But he knew that wasn't the case. There were probably hundreds of boys with blonde hair and blue eyes in this kingdom, and Tommy sure as hell wasn't a prince.
"If you happen to know anyone that looks like this, please contact the number listed below. Further information will be provided to anyone that calls. Please note, false reports could result in a fine and penalty of up to- "
That was where Tommy stopped reading.
When Tommy awoke the very next morning, he was… alone.
He wasn’t just alone in his room; that was a very regular occurrence, in fact, he'd say that the only reason he might not be alone upon waking would be from Ranboo having a nightmare, entering in the darkness of the night because Tommy was the only one that would allow him to slink into bed with him for a bit of comfort.
Even Charlie wasn’t around, which would probably worry him any other day, but he got a message from Quackity that he needed him around for something, so he wasn't too pressed about it apart from a mild annoyance.
There was something to be said about Tommy and the act of being left alone, despite how all of Tommy's friends could attest to the fact that he was constantly on the verge of dropping everything and running off just for a little bit of peace. Really, Tommy had the feeling that if he didn't have his friends- his teammates- he wouldn’t have lasted nearly as long as he had so far.
His friends were his life, whether he liked it or not. If he were to lose any of them, in turn, he’d most definitely lose himself.
That was probably an unhealthy mindset (he made a mental note to add it to his list of many), but it was what he genuinely believed. And when they were gone, that belief only became more apparent in the thoughts that racked his brain.
What if they finally abandoned me? Why didn’t they bring me with them? Did I do something wrong? Do they hate me?
Because of course, ignoring all common sense and letting his abandonment issues run its course was totally the best way to rationalize things.
He knew it wasn’t true; he knew that he’d been living with these people for years, and obviously if they had any real grievances with him, they’d tell him about it. Still, he couldn’t help his thoughts when they came to him. Tommy had a bad habit of getting lost in his own head no matter how rational or irrational it was. His brain quite enjoyed trying to convince him that he wasn’t worth shit and he would be better off dead.
Which, yeah- maybe a lot of that was the thought process he’d held for a long time when he was younger. And maybe the only reason it was still around was due to a part of him still believing it.
Tommy skipped breakfast, promptly finding himself out of the too-quiet base and wandering the streets without very much care for his appearance. All he needed was jeans and a hoodie, pulled up to cover his golden hair, because he didn’t need any reason to be stared at today.
All-in-all, Tommy didn’t consider this a good day. And that wasn’t a great sign about how he’d handle the rest of it, seeing as it was only five in the morning, but who knew; maybe it would turn around for the better.
…
Something in him doubted that.
Tommy tightened the string on his hoodie as he walked, boots crunching in the snow that was slowly beginning to melt again after the snowfall from the night prior.
Being left alone with his thoughts wasn’t good when he was having a bad day. He didn’t blame his friends, they were just doing their jobs and he didn’t have anything against that, but them leaving him behind for even just a single job sent his mind to the deepest pits of despair. He hated being left alone, hated the feeling of no one around to talk to, no one around to distract from himself.
He pursed his lips and kicked a stray pebble off the path, walking past a small group of strangers who were obviously on their way to work. He didn’t miss the side-eye they gave him, nor did he miss the hushed whispers after they assumed he was out of earshot. It was probably because of what he was wearing. He looked pretty homeless right now, in only jeans and a hoodie- and especially so if bags under his eyes had anything to say about it. It was almost identical to what he used to wear when he was actually living on the streets.
Tommy guessed he just constantly looked homeless. His sleeping problems really didn’t help whenever he tried to convince people otherwise- bags prominent underneath his eyes, and although he was reasonably good at hiding it, the occasional bruise from training or jobs that went halfway south.
Tommy was used to absent and confused glances, ones that questioned, why is a kid so young looking like that? Doesn’t he have his parents to take care of him? Why is he all alone?
And to that, Tommy would mentally retort, no, they dropped me off to make friends with the rats. You should try it sometimes.
To which the stranger would reply, in his imaginary conversation, by widening their eyes and going, what the fuck is wrong with you?
And Tommy would get all offended, tell them to go fuck themselves, before storming away. Because he had self control and didn’t let his steam off on other people, like the cool as fuck person he was, and he instead chose to take it out on them in his head, where the only person he needed to worry about getting slightly convinced that he was insane was himself.
There were a few things that he never managed to get his mind to stray from for long, regardless of whether his friends were around to distract him or not, or whether he did well at coping. Some things he couldn’t avoid:
- Sam.
He had no fucking clue what he was going to do when Sam decided to show up, and he didn’t like to think about what Niki had probably told him in the short time he’d known her, but it made him uneasy nonetheless. The feeling of dread that hit him whenever he so much as thought about looking the man face-to-face was insurmountable.
- Will.
The man confused Tommy to no end. He’d only seen him once, and yet he couldn’t help the image of the man’s sincereness running its course through his brain, taunting him with the spark of recognition that had been in the man’s eyes, the centerpoint of his confusion.
At first, Tommy thought the man had recognized him from a cigarette run. It wasn’t... uncommon for him to bump into some adult on the way to the corner store that would attempt to discourage him from smoking, and Will definitely smelled like he had a fucking pack a day, so Tommy would say that was a reasonable assumption to make.
But something else told him that wasn’t the case. The recognition in his eyes had been one of endearment, not worry- although, he guessed there was a reasonable amount of that when he mentioned being an orphan.
There it was, though, because there had also been recognition there - something calculating, as if he were attempting to solve a puzzle, the puzzle being Tommy.
Tommy curled his fingers into his fist, glaring at the pavement he walked upon. Who the fuck was Will? Who gave him permission to take up so many of Tommy’s thoughts? Why had he been so hellbent on learning shit about him, even when Tommy hadn’t so much as told him his name?
He wouldn’t go so far as to say he hated the guy, but that was just something else that frustrated him. Because why did the fucker annoy him so much yet endeared him all the same? What did he do to gain his attention? It didn’t make fucking sense.
He was sick and tired of the confusion, of the choices and dilemmas that were all centered around Niki’s bakery. It was as if that place was simultaneously the centerpoint of his comfort yet his confliction. Almost as if it was teetering on the edge, having the potential to be either comfort or disaster, but just missing the vague aspects that could send it teetering in one direction or the other.
He blinked rapidly and, desperate to hush his train of thought, turned into the first open store he happened upon; an old antique store called “Puffy’s Tricks & Trinkets” that was dressed in all old-style decorations, shelves filled with random things that were marked with small yellow price tags. A bell that hung off the ceiling in the door’s path announced his arrival.
Considering the hour it was, he wasn’t surprised to see that he was the only person in the store other than the woman behind the desk, who he presumed was Puffy. She had been looking down at the desk, marking something down with a marker, but when Tommy entered, she glanced up and plastered a drowsy smile on her face.
“Welcome,” she said. Her voice was pleasant, projecting across the shop to reach his ears easily despite the drowsiness it held. It was the exact voice Tommy would expect to belong to a small store owner at five in the morning; the perfect amount of projection while also having that warm and welcoming undertone that made him relax his shoulders. “Up for some early morning shopping?”
“You could say that,” Tommy replied, walking over to one of the shelves and brushing his fingers against some weird looking geode thing. The smell of the old antique wood fumigating the store gave him a comforting sense of nostalgia, exhaling a long breath that forced his body to release tension. “I didn’t expect many stores to be open at this hour- to be honest, I just walked into the first one I saw.”
Puffy laughed, dusting off her desk and standing up to stick a label onto a lamp. “Yeah, wandering the streets when there's no one around can be fun, but I try to avoid it- Especially in the late-to-early hours; it’s pretty eerie.” She shifted around to click the lamp on. “Opened up early today since my apartment is right upstairs, but I wasn’t really expecting anyone to show up- that’s not to say you’re not welcome!” she was quick to correct with a laugh, running her hand along the desk as she walked around it to sit back down. “Feel free to have a look around. I doubt anyone else is gonna be showing up anytime soon, so there’s absolutely no rush. Just give a holler if you need anything.”
Tommy smiled, slipping his hand back into his pocket as he continued deeper into the store, where more shelves stood.
It was bigger than he’d expected. Once getting through the main section of the store, there was a back area that contained about double the amount of what the front did, things sorted a little more precisely to fit the preferences of someone who might be there for a specific reason.
It wasn’t the type of place that Tommy would normally go, but he could see why other people would. He couldn’t have thought of a better store to walk into to get his mind off things, though, because it was absolutely packed with random shit that would give anyone a questionable curiosity.
Something that caught his eye rather quickly was an old upright piano.
It looked a bit worse for wear- he didn’t think he needed to think very hard to figure out that it had definitely been places- but it was really fucking pretty.
The outer shell was made out of a dark mahogany; an intricately designed sheet music stand sitting above the protective key flap that had hinges that were long rusted, but they still appeared usable after years of love and care gone into the thing.
Tommy approached it, running his hand along the smooth yet rough structure and stopping when he got to the keys, slipping his fingers under the small protruding trim of the heavy wooden flap, rusty hinges creaking as he lifted it.
The keyboard was in shockingly good condition, the finishing polished and clean, if not for a few scratches or cracks here and there. Dust was coating the black and off-white, stained from years of use, and when Tommy ran his finger across it, he came back with a small layer on the soft of his forefinger.
He glanced back up at Puffy, who looked absorbed by whatever she was typing into her computer, and quietly cleared his throat in an attempt to get her attention- which surprisingly worked, the woman looking up with a curious expression.
“Uh… can I…” Tommy began, jabbing his thumb at the piano, and when the woman raised her eyebrow, he rushed to clarify, “I was just curious to see if it’s tuned, but if you don’t want me touching it then I won’t-”
“Oh, go ahead!” She waved her hand. “Do whatever you like with it, go wild- well, just don’t break it. That’s the one rule. But I’m fine with you playing it”
Tommy huffed in amusement before looking back down at the keys, taking his seat on the squeaky bench in front of it. He shuffled the distance between him and the keys for a second, bringing his right foot out to rest on the sustain pedal, before finally bringing his hand up.
When he played the first note, he let the sound ring out through the store, straining his ears to really analyze whether it was out of tune or not. It was twangy, sounding a tiny bit sharp, but it was still recognizable. He tested it a bit more by continuing from the C he’d tested to play its chord.
Not too bad, he thought, humming under his breath, and he lifted his other hand to go through the circle of fourths, because why the hell not?
He glanced over to Puffy again, noting the absent smile on her face as she clicked away, balancing her chin in her palm, and he dared to start playing louder when he actually got to something that wasn’t just scales and chords, playing a simpler classical piece to get himself warmed up.
He wasn’t sure how long he ended up playing. All that he knew was that when he started, he couldn’t really bring it in himself to stop. It felt almost like a break he didn’t realize he needed.
His hands felt comfortable, even as he played music that he imagined his friends would scoff at because of how little it fit him as a person. His friends usually didn’t mind when he played on his keyboard at the base, but he tended to just use headphones because of how infuriating it was to see them just randomly enter the room to listen. Tommy was a stickler for what he let people see of him, so anything music-like was one of those things he never let anyone see him do unless he was 100% confident that he was doing his best at it.
When Tommy was alone, he tended to do a lot more productive things with himself than he did when he was around more people. A part of him felt like he was under the eyes of scrutiny no matter what he was doing; no matter how supportive his friends were of everything he did. Their consistent reminders of that helped in some ways, but he felt like there was nothing he could do to change that mindset.
But whenever he was alone, he allowed himself to do more... selfish things, because there was no one around to convince him it was selfish but himself. It was a similar feeling when he did anything in front of strangers. He knew that if he did something that would make them critical of him, their opinion wouldn’t matter because he’d probably never see them again.
Yeah, that was probably not a very healthy mindset. But that was just life. He probably had more unhealthy mindsets than healthy ones.
When he was done playing the fourth piece, the sun was a lot brighter in the sky than it was before, although the store was still completely empty apart from himself and Puffy. Tommy picked up his phone from the music stand and saw a message that Niki sent him about five minutes beforehand, asking if he was going to be stopping by, and sighed as he got to his feet.
“Welp, I’ll be off,” he announced, making Puffy look up from her work to give him her full attention, and he nervously itched the back of his neck. “Uh... thanks for having me around. I didn't really mean to spend so much time here.”
“Thanks for sticking around!” Puffy called with a smile, crossing her arms over the desk as she leaned forward. “You're always welcome here! Stop by to play again soon? It’s nice.”
He grinned at her, pulling open the door and letting in a rush of bitter air. “I’ll think about it.”
“Tommy!” Niki exclaimed when he entered the bakery, immediately shrugging his sweater off and stomping his feet on the mat to knock the snow away.
“Mornin’ Niks,” he replied, trying to mask the utter exhaustion he felt weighing on his bones- but he could tell that Niki caught onto it rather quickly, because her smile tightened a miniscule amount as she kneaded the dough on her table behind the counter.
“How’s your morning, Tom? Get enough sleep? I didn’t expect you to show up so soon.”
“Yeah, I’m chill.” Tommy shrugged. His acting seemed to be dwindling due to his lack of sleep, so he went to forge together a safe option to respond with. “I woke up early and figured I had big man shit to do, then you texted while I was wooing the ladies, and now look where we are.”
The mildly concerned expression Niki had been sporting slowly shifted to something more amused as she rolled her eyes. “Well, I’m sure your ‘big man shit’ can wait for a bit, because I need some help manning the counter today.”
Tommy paused. “The counter?”
“I’ll pay you extra!” Niki was quick to say. “17 credits an hour, how does that sound? I’m sorry this came up so suddenly, usually I’d ask an employee, but the one that usually takes over is on a break and I forgot that it was the weekend. I’m probably going to be overrun today, and I need someone to help me bag the pastries and take the change while I bake, but you don’t have to if you don’t-”
“I- no, it’s fine,” Tommy interrupted, before sighing, pinching the bridge of his nose. That definitely caught him off guard, although he knew it wasn’t the worst it could have been. At least her payment offer was above the minimum wage. “Just show me what you want me to do.”