Chapter Text
Tommy threw his head back, searching for the vacuum.
He thought he left it under the stairs, but as he was looking under there now, and it decidedly wasn’t under there, he must’ve left it somewhere else.
Now usually he would just fly through walls until it turned up, but now, believe the unfairness if you will, he actually has to walk through doorways to get anywhere.
And the whole reason he needs the vacuum, is because Phil still hasn’t cleaned the chalk off his fucking floors.
Tommy trudges outside to find Phil working in his failed attempt at a garden.
“PHIL! Where’s the fuckin vacuum?”
“Ask Techno.”
“Where’s Techno?!”
“He’s upstairs.”
“Why’s he upstairs?”
“Dying his hair pink.”
Tommy paused.
“That sounds messy.”
“It’s not too messy, just stains the sink a little.”
Tommy was out of there in a blink.
\(-)/
“OI! Prick!”
Techno whips around from where he’s combing bright pink dye through his brown hair, and cursing out Wilbur for having to do it again.
“Yes?”
“Stop that! You’re getting pink-“ Tommy shoved him over and started scrubbing with a cloth, “All over my sink.”
“It’s just dye. I’ll wash it-“
“No, you’ll stop, clean this up-“
“I can’t just stop-“
“You can now.” Tommy huffs, scrubbing desperately at what has the initial markings of a stain.
Techno takes a few steps back, and continues combing pink through his hair.
“Have you seen the vacuum? I need to get chalk out of my floors.” Tommy asks.
“Your floors?! They’re our floors too now.”
“I think the fuck not.”
“He’s in denial.”
“Wha-“
“Stop denyin’ it.”
“It’s my house!”
“You’re a child. Children don’t own houses.”
“I do.”
“Nope.”
Tommy huffs.
“Hey, Tommy? Phil asked me to ask you whether you had-“
Wilbur pauses.
“Techno got fuckin dye all over my sink-“
“It’s not your sink, it’s ours too-“
“It’s fucking not-”
Wilbur cackles. Tommy pushes himself away from the bench, groaning.
“What does Phil want?”
“He wants to know if Tommy found the vacuum.”
“I didn’t.”
“Figured that.”
\(-)/
A half-hour later, and a house-wide vacuum search, which ended up being in the kitchen of all places, along with multiple arguments with the new people who butted into his house a few hours ago.
Tommy’s vigorously vacuuming the floor, getting more and more pissed with every minute he spends attempting to get chalk out of his floors.
What doesn’t help is Wilbur butting in every few minutes.
“That’s not coming out, you know.”
“Yes it fucking is.” He hissed.
“You could just leave it there, so you don’t have to do this again when we inevitably die again. Blood splatter, that’ll also be awkward.”
“Wilbur, shut the fuck up. It’s almost out now, look.”
“It’s not.”
“It is too!”
“Y’know,” Wilbur says, looking away. “You could be my brother. We look the same.”
“No we don’t.”
“Yeah we do.”
“No we- I don’t have a brother, and I never have. I don’t even know anything about “brothering”.”
“Don’t worry Toms, I’ll teach you how to brother correctly, in exchange for letting us live in this house.”
“If those are the options, then you can fuck right off. I’d rather have a house to myself then learn how to be a brother, which is useless.”
“It’s not useless! I’ll be your brother, and Techno can be your brother, and Phil can be your dad! It’s perfect! We’re adopting you! You’re being forcefully adopted!”
“What if I don’t want to be adopted?” He very much wanted to be adopted.
“What part of ‘forceful adoption’ do you not get? You don’t get a choice in this, Tommy.”
Maybe it was the way he wasn’t joking anymore, or the way he looked at Tommy, but Tommy couldn’t help but just nod.
“I’ll be your brother.”
Wilbur’s beam could’ve lit up the world.
“I’ve never had a little brother before! Only Techno, but he’s older than me, by like, eight and a half minutes, or something, ask dad.”
Tommy just nodded.
“First rule or brotherism, you must give me a hug whenever I ask. It’s a law, an unspoken law. Now give me a hug.”
Tommy waddles over. He’s not actually sure how to give a hug, and ends up awkwardly just standing in front of Wilbur waiting for something to happen.
“Oh you-“ Wilbur wraps his arms around Tommy, tugging him into his lap, laughing at the shocked look on his face.
“Suppose you didn’t get many hugs when you were alive, huh?” Tommy shakes his head, almost melting into Wilbur’s arms.
He barely notices when Wilbur’s picked him up, and takes him outside.
“Oh dad~” Wilbur sings.
“Oh god…” Phil mutters.
“You adopted another son.”
“Did I? I don’t remember any legal documents.”
“He’s dead, or he was dead, therefore no legal documents.” Phil scoffs.
“Did Tommy say I could adopt him?”
“Yep.”
Phil sighs. “I suppose I have another son then.”
“I guess so.”
Tommy’s still wrapped tightly around Wilbur, basking in the feeling of hugged.
“Wilbur, are you sure Tommy can breathe? You are holding him quite tight.”
Wilbur pulls away. Tommy’s about to cry.
“How about I teach you how to garden?”
Tommy looks up at the sudden change in conversation.
“Come here.”
He shuffles around till he’s more or less next to Phil.
“Your biggest problem-“ Phil tugs at a plant. “Is weeds.”
“What’s the difference?”
“You don’t want weeds.” Phil deadpans.
“As long as I can eat it, I don’t really give a shit what it is.”
“You can’t eat weeds, mate.” Phil’s trying to hide a smile.
“Watch me, bitch. I have a digestive system now. I can eat whatever the fuck I want.”
“Don’t eat that-“ Tommy shoves a handful of weeds in his mouth. They don’t taste that good, horrendous in fact, and burn the roof of his mouth, and he’s fairly sure there’s a rock in there, but it’s the first thing he’s eaten since accidentally being revived by a madman who’s apparently adopted him, and he’s going to appreciate that.
“Phil, is this really how you’re going to treat your new son? Let him eat dirt?”
“‘Snot dir’. Plan’s.” Tommy beams, showing Wilbur a mouthful of half chewed leaves.
Granted, the dirts going to be impossible to get out of his shirt, but for the first time in a while he doesn’t care about his cleanliness.