Chapter Text
"We're going on a trip!" Phil announces.
What.
A what now.
"In this day and age?" Tommy gasps. Shocking.
"That's right. I want us all to get to know each other-" Phil is cut off by horrible complaints.
"What is this, summer camp?" Wilbur asks.
"-so I searched for good places to visit. This certain forest camping site caught my eye, so I think it would be a nice idea if we could all go there." Phil continues.
"Uhm, no. Unless I want to be burnt to death by Wilbur tryna start a bonfire." Techno taunts.
"I'd burn you to death even if we weren't near a bonfire, if I can." Wilbur rolls his eyes.
"If you can? What's stoppin' you?" Techno sneers at him.
"You're soon-to-be vengeful soul, that is!" Wilbur exclaims angrily.
Tommy sighs and looks at Phil. "Are they always like this?"
Phil simply shrugs. "It happens normally."
And that's an understandable-enough answer.
Ding-dong, the doorbell rings. Although it sounded more like a dying cat. Really must get replaced soon.
"Aha, my package must be here." Phil cheers. "Er- your package." he corrects, looking at Tommy.
"Mine? I don't think I ordered anything." Tommy informs.
"Actually, I ordered it for you." Phil says, opening the box.
"Really? What is it?" Tommy asks, peeking inside.
"Clothes." Phil answers simply.
Tommy's eyes brighten at couple of hoodies and trousers, only to lose that spark when-
"What the fuck." Tommy stares at the child sized clothing screaming 'Yeah, they want you to wear this.'
"These are for ten year olds." Tommy states as Phil scratches his head.
"Oh."
Yeah, oh .
Seems like the old man has no excuse for this. How could he give Tommy clothes that are meant for children? Was he being mocked?
Rude.
"I'm gonna call for a refund and exchange the size. For uh, a twelve year old?" Phil jokes.
"Stop!" Tommy groans.
"Alright, alright. You could borrow clothes from the boys until then." Phil offers.
"Wh- I'm not sharing clothes with the intruder!" Wilbur refuses.
"Come on, I'm sure you have some spare small clothes somewhere in the back of your closet." Techno says, knowingly.
"You're supposed to give him clothes too, y'know." Wilbur clicks his tongue.
"I mean, I have a couple clothes from two years ago." Techno shrugs.
"How are you so chill with lending this child your clothes?" Wilbur raises his eyebrows.
"I mean- they don't fit me anymore. Or I'm unlike you who sorts his stuff accordin' to sentimental value." Techno snickers.
But hey, Tommy owns at least one shirt he holds dear to him, even if it's quite old now. Though it looks like Wilbur has ten too many.
Spare a few?
"Fucking what, now?" Wilbur glares at him.
"I said what I said. In other words, just give him those clothes that don't fit you anymore." Techno urges.
"And what, let him ruin it?" Wilbur says, crossing his arms in an annoyed manner.
"Would you rather I turn it into a rug for my bathroom?" Techno threatens.
Wilbur's jaw drops onto the floor as he uncrosses his arms and runs upstairs and into his room.
Tommy waits a few awkward seconds as Wilbur barges back into the living room, panting as he drops a huge pile of clothes in front of him.
"Hoooly shit." Tommy drawls, rummaging through the clothing.
Now he can see why Wilbur's clothes hold so much sentimental value to the man.
The only good thing about him is his sense of style, Tommy guesses.
Ew, was that a compliment?
No thank you.
"Go see if it fits you, Tommy." Phil smiles.
"Uh." Tommy blinks.
"Yes?" Phil asks.
"I forgot where the bathroom is again." Tommy bites his lip.
Tommy practically wishes he would just melt right here and right now as he hears the rest of the other three sigh.
"Are we all packed?" Phil eyes every backpack in the trunk.
"We didn't have much to pack anyway." Tommy points out.
"Right, we don't. Everything we need is going to be within the walls of nature." Phil opens his arms, breathing in the fresh air.
"God, you sound old." Wilbur says, face souring at the action.
"God, you act old." Techno follows.
"God, you are old." Tommy adds.
"Ah, shut it you three. I want everyone to be on their best behavior." Phil commands.
He watches as the three menaces look amongst each other, giving contemplating looks of 'I am going to cause trouble today.'
"Please, can we just get in the car?" Phil shakes his head.
"Who wants the front seat?" Phil questions, raising his right arm.
"Me!" Wilbur exclaims.
"I'm the only trustworthy one to sit in there." Techno says at the same time.
"Could I?" Tommy says too.
"Give me one reason why you deserve the front seat, both of you." Wilbur demands.
"Uh, maybe because I don't accidentally hit my head on the windshield?" Techno reasons out.
"Cause...I can't remember the last time I rode a car." Tommy responds slowly.
"Now tell me why you get to sit there." Techno asks Wilbur.
"I'm the oldest." Wilbur stomps his foot on the concrete, as if his reason was obvious.
"All of you are staying in the back." Phil confirms.
No, no, no-
This can't be.
Only Tommy deserves the front seat. And now?
No one is sitting there except for four bulky backpacks.
"Where even are we?" Tommy asks, studying the area.
"Why does it reek of garbage?" Techno sniffs the air, and it sure did smell like fucking trash.
"Are you sure we aren't at a landfill?" Wilbur turns towards Phil, demanding an answer.
Phil laughs nervously. "Our stay will be much more interesting this way."
"Lame excuse." Techno rolls his eyes.
"Damn, you must really like rolling your eyes. Are your eyeballs like- okay?" Tommy tilts his head.
"Do you wanna know a secret?" Techno says in a low voice.
"Yeah!" Tommy whispers.
"My eyeballs are stretchable." Techno whispers back.
Wow. Tommy really wants stretchable eyeballs too! Spying on people will be much easier.
"Don't listen to him," Wilbur pulls Tommy to the side. "he's got a little bit of a loose screw."
"Heard that." Techno mutters.
"I think both of you have loose screws, thank you very much." Tommy admits.
"Says the one who thought breaking into someone's house was a good idea." Wilbur says through gritted teeth.
"I thought we already moved on from that?" Tommy crosses his arms.
"Nope, never. I will keep bothering you about it until your dying day." Wilbur shakes his head.
"What makes you so sure you'll be able to witness my deathbed and that you wouldn't die first?" Tommy groans.
"Woah, woah, calm down." Techno tries to stop the fight.
Erm, keyword- tries.
"Shut up!" Wilbur and Tommy both say.
"Babysittin' is a hard job." Techno sighs.
"No one wants a babysitter who's eyeballs fall out." Wilbur derides.
Phil watches it all go down. The way the conversation quickly shifted from landfills to stretching eyeballs to death and back to eyeballs again scares him.
"Please don't stab me with that piece of steel." Tommy begs.
"It's called a tent peg, idiot." Wilbur corrects.
"I don't fucking care if it's called a tent pog or whateve-"
"Peg. Tent peg." Wilbur says slowly, as if Tommy is a toddler he's teaching the alphabet to.
"As I said I don't care, just don't maim me with it." Tommy pleads again.
He means- who knows what the man can do? He could murder Tommy in his sleep for all he cares.
“Might as well.” Wilbur hammers the first peg into the ground and Techno hammers the other.
Tommy watches them because there is no way in hell he wouldn't accidentally smash his finger if he tried. If Tommy's being honest, he has never used a hammer before. Weapons were off limits back at the orphanage, you see.
It took about fifteen more minutes trying to figure out which way the peg went so the tent wouldn't just fall apart the minute somebody enters.
After that, came the difficult part.
"What's a good camping trip if there's no campfire?" Phil states, sounding almost excited.
"Please tell me you have sticks ready." Techno puts his head in his hands because he already knew what the response was gonna be.
"Nah that's not how camping works, mate. And that's great because it means more bonding time!" Phil cheers.
...Yay. Everybody cheered, yay.
Getting tons of scratches from attempting to carry wood...yay...!
But hunting in the woods sounds so much fun. So much.
"C'mon man, don't be a fucking pussy." Tommy grabs both Techno and Wilbur by the sleeve and drags them across the camping site.
"He's the pussy, not me." Wilbur defends himself, shoving Techno towards Tommy.
"Hundred percent sure you'll back out the minute you try to carry a log." Techno says confidently.
"Can we just split up and meet back at the tent?" Tommy suggests impatiently.
If he has to carry pounds of wood to keep Wilbur and Techno's bantering away from earshot, he'll gladly do so.
"If you get lost, that will be a problem." Wilbur tells Tommy under his breath.
Tommy shrugs. "You do you."
Techno drops the sticks in front of Wilbur, amused at the large sized pieces of wood he was looking at.
"Hey, you have a cut in your hand." Wilbur snatches Techno's hand and scans it.
"Tis but a scratch, I guess." Techno replies, unbothered.
"What's going on?" Tommy emerges from the trees.
Well that isn't terrifying at all.
"Wilbur is fuzzin’ over a palm cut." Techno answers.
"I know you find it hard to differentiate minor injuries from major ones." Wilbur pouts.
"Okay, but this is a cut, not an arrow to the heart." Techno points out.
"Do you want me to put a bandage on it?" Wilbur furrows his eyebrows.
Finally, Tommy thought, a moment where they're not trying to murder each other.
"As far as I know, I'm not eight." Techno deadpans.
Nevermind. Peace is never an option, never.
"You're still eight to me." Wilbur smiles in a dreamy way, reaching out to pat his head whilst Techno looks back at him, horrified at the sudden gesture.
"You met me when I was ten! Somehow, people thought I was older than you but, makes sense." Techno points out, docking Wilbur's hand easily.
"Screw you, man." Wilbur curses, taking his hand back rather harshly, face contorting from concern and mockery to disgust.
Palm wounds are bad, alright, but in Tommy's defense, hangnails are worse.
Like really, really worse.
It would just suddenly get stuck on your clothes or some shit, or on your hair when you scratch your head.
"Hey, come back! Don't risk getting a hand infection and putting us in debt with some hospital!" Wilbur yells out as Techno begins walking his way towards the tent.
Techno just waves Wilbur off.
Yeah, no shit, he definitely does not give a fuck.
But, hand infection? Big yikes.
"Guys, gather up. The fire is starting." Phil grins.
All three of them leave the tent as they are greeted by the strong heat of the flame.
The fire is so beautiful. It's been so long since Tommy had seen one. In fact, he can't remember the last time he did.
It's so beautifu-
"Leave! Leave, Tom, leave! Save yourself, please!"
Tommy flinches at the sudden memory flash.
"You okay there, mate?" Phil glances at him.
"Yes, sorry. The warmth just surprised me a bit." Tommy explains.
"Breathe, one, two, three. One, two, three."
Tommy didn't know what that was, if the memory was real or fake. But he sure did not want to face it.
So he sat in between Wilbur and Techno and hoped for the best.
Somehow, he isn't even touching the fire, but his body burns at the sight of it.
"It hurts. It burns, it hurts so much."
"You're okay, kiddo. You'll be safe."
"Tommy, you look pale." Wilbur speaks up, concern rising in his voice.
Just like a snap, Tommy comes back to the real world.
"I- It's just my first time seeing fire...in a while." he clarifies.
"We can distract you if you want. Y'know, tell stories so you feel less afraid." Techno offers.
"Sure. I'd love that." Tommy accepts, smiling.
"Hmm, let's see. After Techno set the orphanage on fire-"
"Did you actually?" Tommy cuts off.
"No I did not! I mean, maybe I did. I think. I can't remember that much so it must've been an accident and not intentional." Techno responds.
"Well I sure hope it was." Phil says.
"Anyways, when we found him, he was super scared of fire." Wilbur expands.
"Was not." Techno grumbles.
"Was too." Wilbur argues. "He didn't want to go near the gas stove, so I took him by the shoulders and shoved him towards it." he continues.
"That's not what happened? What happened was you hugged me, took me by the hand and explained how gas stoves were completely harmless." Techno corrects.
"Wow, really? I used to care a lot." Wilbur jeers.
"And you're proud about that? L." Techno comments.
"Can we please just move on?" Wilbur says, irritated.
"How about that time when you accidentally locked yourself in the bathroom?" Techno suggests.
"I always knew he was an idiot the first time I saw him." Tommy exhales.
"I remember that time. I had to kick down the door to get him out." Phil adds, remembering the incident like it was yesterday.
"He was eighteen, Tommy. Eighteen." Techno murmurs.
"Fucking eighteen!? That's bullshit, man!" Tommy laughs in disbelief.
"I have photos of it." Techno pulls out his phone and scrolls down to pictures from four years ago. "Evidence."
He shows Tommy two photos, one of Phil kicking down a door and one of Wilbur coming out of it.
"Stop!" Wilbur yells, reaching out his hand to swat the phone out of Techno's.
"No, no, no, no. No playing around near fire, boys. This is child-like behavior." Phil warns.
"You mean Tommy behavior?" Wilbur smirks.
"How fucking dare you!" Tommy yells, disgruntled.
"How dare you talk back to me, you little brat!"
Tommy winces, and watches as the expression melts off Wilbur's face.
"What's wrong? What is it this time?" Wilbur panics like a father called to school because his kid is in trouble.
"I just...can't get used to the fire, man." Tommy lies.
"How about you tell us stories instead, then?" Techno recommends.
"I think that's a great idea." Tommy considers.
"Can you tell us the full story of how you ended up in our house, mate?" Phil requests.
"Hmm, let's see. It started in the orphanage. Then I overheard people talking about me." Tommy expounds.
"What were they saying?" Wilbur questions, engaged.
"About how I was being a burden and some shit. And I would eventually age out of the system." Tommy answers.
"But you're sixteen. You still got two more years." Techno joins in.
"I've been rotating around several foster homes more often than you thought. For some reason, I could barely stay a few days before they turn me down." Tommy frowns.
"Turn you down?" Techno's eyes widen. "How bad was their experience with you for these people to turn you down several times."
"I have no fucking idea what I did but I've been called names, big man. And not in a very nice way. Quite a shitty way, actually." Tommy says.
It became too quiet for a little while, so before the atmosphere could be filled with extreme awkwardness, Tommy spoke up again.
"Enough with the depressing stuff. Y'all said you wanted to hear my great escape? Well wait until you find out about how I jumped out of a window." he claims proudly.
"I noticed that you really like jumping from unrealistically severe high heights." Wilbur observes.
"It actually happened! That's why I had foam taped on me. So the fall wouldn't be too bad." That was one of Tommy's greatest ideas. Well, skipping the part where he got caught on a wire and someone had to unhook him from it. No, no, that never happened.
Who else would he have to thank for his successful mission except himself?
"Then some fucking police guy caught me sneaking out. But!" Tommy shouts suddenly, holding his open hands in the air. "There was a dry ice truck nearby so I tripped the man with a granola bar and entered it."
"Did he catch up to you?" Phil asks.
"No, because number one, I'm smart. Number two, I'm resourceful. Number three, I'm amazing-"
"I don't think 'amazing' is very relevant to your 'great' getaway." Techno interrupts.
"-and most importantly, handsome." Tommy finishes confidently.
"So I threw out that fucking dried ice and poof! Tommy no more!" he adds.
"I might've also obtained a toy gun from that police guy and used it to threaten the driver to get the car started." Tommy says in a quieter voice.
"Jesus, how many crimes have you committed?" Wilbur gasps.
"A couple."
"A couple?" Wilbur repeats in disbelief.
"I mean if you don't add the part when I made the driver think he's crazy and he abandoned his own truck." Tommy shrugs.
"Do I wanna know what happened after he left the truck?" Techno eyes him suspiciously.
"Well, erm- I drove away. And...I don't have a license or any knowledge about operating a car." Tommy answers sheepishly.
"Do I wanna know what happened in your driving escapade?" Techno asks again.
"Oh you definitely do." Tommy holds his breath. "I crashed it." he lets it out.
"How are you not in jail yet?" Techno exclaims.
"That's not even everything!" Tommy blurts out.
"There's the part where I stole a kid's toy and her brother attacked me." he includes.
"It's a miracle you're still alive." Phil comments.
"I know. Not after I caused a fucking traffic jam while being chased. Not only my foot got busted in the process though. I broke the guy's foot too. It was epic." Tommy beams.
"What's epic, the sound of the poor man's leg bones crushin’ or the fact that you caused traffic?" Techno says, sarcasm dripping in his voice.
"The part where I bit him." Tommy flashes his sharp teeth. How threatening.
"Ah, of course. How did I not know." Techno deadpans.
"I bit him, climbed on a dumpster and onto a roof." Tommy resumes. "Then I jumped."
"Do you think you're in a fucking parkour game?" Wilbur shouts.
"No, not really. I think you're just jealous of my incredible stealth." Tommy says arrogantly.
"Ah yes, incredible stealth. Let me guess, you fell the wrong way after jumping and crawled your way into our home." Wilbur shoots him a look of contempt.
"Well I wouldn't say crawl. More like marched." Tommy corrects.
"Stop kidding yourself, child." Wilbur scoffs.
"And my first impression of you was that you were kind." Tommy sighs, rolling his eyes.
"No, no, stop that. I don't want another person with falling eyeballs." Wilbur falsely hitches his breath, shooing Tommy away with his hands.
"Oh my god, no one's fucking eyeballs are falling out." Phil groans.
"Mine might, out of frustration because these two are bein’ so loud." Techno mumbles.
"Believe me, mate, mine will too."
Tommy rests his head on the pillow of his sleeping bag because damn, was that a day.
"Put your hand out." he hears Wilbur whisper.
"Why?" he hears Techno respond.
"There are third degree burns on his hand-"
Tommy shuts his eyes tightly at the memory.
"I'm gonna apply ointment on it." Wilbur replies.
"You're not my doctor." Techno derides, but he puts his hand out anyway.
"The doctor's not gonna hurt you, Tom. It's alright."
Stop, Tommy begs. Stop.
"Okay, does it sting?" Wilbur asks.
"Not too much." Techno admits.
"The doctor said to try not to move too much-"
"I'll be putting on a bandage now." Wilbur cautions.
"Go ahead." Techno nods his head in approval.
"Next time, please disinfect it right away. unless you wanna get an infection."
The rest of their conversation fades away as Tommy slowly loses consciousness, in hopes of having an undisturbed sleep.
"I'm so sorry, Tommy, they're gone- they're not coming ba-
"He is a child!"
"He has to know, it would hurt less if he knows."
"Are you fucking kidding me? You're scaring him, you're traumatizing him!"
"He's already traumatized enough!"
"No, no, no. This isn't right. We'll keep it from him. We'll raise him and-"
"Raise him? No, we are not raising a child. We're sending him to the orphanage. Okay?"
"Do you think he would do much better there?"
“So much better.”