Chapter Text
Tommy woke the next morning to the light shining into his room through sheer curtains. Sitting up he rubbed his eyes, stretching his arms above his head. It was probably the best night’s sleep he had gotten in ages, which, compared to his shitty mattress and wire frame, made sense. The king sized bed with an incredibly soft mattress and about 7 blankets on top, and the cloud-like pillows, was an incredible improvement. He rolled over and grabbed his phone, plugged in on the nightstand, and scrolled through his notifications he’s recieved the night before. Nothing really interesting, a few snapchats from Sapnap, Eryn, and a others, and a couple notifications from instagram and twitter. He sat up, feeling his back pop in a few places, and let his feet hang off the bed for a second before standing up. Sleep still lingered in his eyes, his eyelids feeling a little heavy. He knew that if he lay back down for a few minutes it would turn into him sleeping past noon, though.
Standing, he grabbed his sweatshirt he pulled it over his arms, leaving it unzipped as he headed for the door. He could hear some sounds from downstairs, it sounded like cooking, and the smell of breakfast wafting up told him that at least a couple of the others had to be up. He headed down the stairs, a little excited to see Techno, feeling closer to the older man after their discussion the night before. It was slightly clouded by the trepidation of seeing Wilbur again.
He made it to the kitchen to see Techno standing over the stove, flipping some pancakes. No one else was anywhere to be seen.
“Morning.” Tommy mumbled as he headed over to stand near the the pink haired man, “Where’s everyone else?”
“Mornin’. They’re probably still asleep. Wilbur doesn’t usually roll out of bed until after noon when we come out here. Ranboo and Tubbo were up late, so they likely won’t be up for a few hours either.”
Tommy glanced at the clock, 9:23 reflecting off the stove’s clock.
“Anyway, this is mostly done if you want any. We can go watch something until they get up if you want.”
Tommy nodded, letting Techno hand him a plate. Once they both had food in hand, Tommy followed Techno out to living room, dropping down next to him on the couch. The blond was handed the remote, and he flicked on the TV, scrolling through to find something. He decided on Disney channel, Gravity Falls re-runs were always a safe bet.
The two sat in silence while they ate, the only sound being the show that was playing, volume low. After he finished, he set his plate on the coffee table, and sat stiffly, feelings sort of awkward all of a sudden. Sensing something shift, Techno glanced at him, before resting an arm around his shoulder. Tommy relaxed and leaned into Techno’s side, head resting on his shoulder, and let himself get sucked into the cartoon.
Techno was right in saying that it would be several hours before the others were up, none of them were out of bed before 11:30. Ranboo stumbled into the living room around that time.
“Those pancakes for everyone?” He asked Techno, smiling a little but not mentioning the way Tommy was curled up against Techno’s side.
“Yeah, just warm them up,” Techno mumbled, eyes never leaving the pages of the book he had picked up after he had lost interest in what was playing. Tommy had switched it to cartoon network at some point, “they’ve been out for awhile, they might be cold.”
“Thanks!” Ranboo headed into the kitchen.
“Come watch cartoons with me,” Tommy called over his shoulder.
After Ranboo had appeared, the other two trickled in at their own pace, the last to join them around 1 o’clock was Wilbur. Ranboo had settled himself against Tommy’s other side, and Tubbo had eventually stumbled in, relaxing into one of the chairs next to the side of the couch that Techno sat in. No words were exchanged, everyone just comfortable in the other’ presence. It made Tommy’s chest warm.
That was until Wilbur ended up in the living room, eyeing Tommy in a way that made that warmth that he was feeling start to quickly cool into discomfort. Why was Wilbur looking at him like he was doing something wrong?
“You’re in my spot,” Oh that’s why.
“Don’t be a dick Will,” Techno huffed beside him. “There’s a completely free chair right there.”
The fire that was creeping up behind Wilbur’s eyes quickly dissipated, a small frown appearing.
“I can move.” Tommy said pulling away. “Actually I need to go shower anyways.”
He stood up quickly, shaking off the few objections from others for him to stay. It was starting to become very clear that Wilbur, despite feeling guilt in situations when he was too much of a dick, really did not like him. He felt like he was being tossed around like a ping pong ball. Sometimes things were okay, other times were like the situation in the living room. The disdain that Wilbur didn’t seem to inclined to hide. He headed up the stairs and went to go look for some clothes and a towel.
He ends up joining them several hours later, in a little portion of the house that seemed to be used as a recording studio and rehearsal space. Things seemed to be still a little icy when he showed up, but not towards Tommy himself. It seemed like the others were angry at Wilbur. Which seemed a little odd. Wilbur had the right to be upset when Tommy started to get close to the others. Yes, Wilbur had begged him to reconsider joining, but it didn’t necessarily mean that he should wedge his way into the relationships that Wilbur had with his bandmates. Tommy shook it off and scanned around for his guitar, finding it resting in stand near one of the loveseats in the room.
“We’re gonna work with some of the stuff Wilbur has, he has some chords that we all kind of like, but just kind of roll with the punches,” Ranboo told him as he settled his guitar on his lap. Tommy nodded and waited for the others to start, watching as Tubbo moved around to set up the recording.
When things were set, Ranboo began to play, and Tommy kept Wilbur in his peripheral, as he placed his fingers on the frets. The enderian began something, the bass thudding out through the speakers. Techno caught on quickly with the drums, finding a good combination. Wilbur started strumming something and as things began to lace themselves together, Tommy began to let the music lace through his brain and began to pour out through his finger tips. The jammed for awhile, nothing being set in stone, and finally Tommy began to feel something settle. As the song ended, he glanced up and saw the smiles on everyone’s faces, including Wilbur. It had gone well, and for the first time Tommy felt like he was finally slotting into a place meant for him.
Eventually, as the session came to an end, and Tommy settle his guitar back into the stand, he could feel eyes on him. Glancing back he saw Wilbur, almost grimacing at Tommy. Of course, of course this fucker had some problem with Tommy, despite how well everything had gone.
“Okay what is your fucking problem, man?” Tommy hissed, and he could see the recoil in all his other bandmates.
“What?”
“This! You! You act like everything I do pains you! I can’t figure you out man! You want me here, but them you hate me. What the hell is that about?” Tommy stood, hands out, shoulders tight to his ears.
“What are you so self-centered that every one of my moods is about you?” Wilbur’s voice rose, and Tommy knew this wouldn’t be good. Wilbur likely wouldn’t do anything to him, but he wasn’t 100 percent sure.
“No! It’s like every situation that happens I become some type of annoyance, or I do something and it pisses you off! I’m just trying to be here, and work doing what I like! Why do you act like I’m here to fuck everything up? Why are you acting like I’m here to ruin your life. Just now! In the living room this morning! Like c’mon!”
“What, I can’t be a little pissed that you are fucking taking the place of our guitarist? Our sound today was so off and it was your goddamn fault!”
“You asked me to be here!”
“Yeah because Phil made me! I don’t want you here Tommy! You’re so fucking annoying, and you squeeze your way into people’s relationships! It looks good on us to let in a struggling musician, that is the reason you’re here. Not because you’re talented or because anyone here actually likes you!”
Tommy was quiet, clenched fists and brought them to his chest..
“What is the real fucking reason Wilbur?” Silence echoed through the room, meaning the others must have left at some point. “I know about the old guitarist. She was your girlfriend right?”
“That has nothing to do with this.” Wilbur had visibly paled.
“Oh so your hope isn’t that she’ll come back, right?” Tommy was settling into resignation, “Well here’s the thing, stop being a dick, and if she comes back, wants to be in the band, then kick me out. That’s fine I don’t care.”
“She’s not. Coming back, I mean.” There seemed to be some realization.
“That’s not my fault.”
“I know, I- I’m sorry Tommy.” The guilt was creeping in there, Tommy could see.
“You’ve said that before.”
“I mean it.”
“Then show it.”
Tommy turned, and left Wilbur behind him, heading out of the room.
“Tommy,” Tubbo was there, on the other side of the door, “Are you okay?”
“I just need some time alone,” Tommy sighed, running a hand through his hair, his eyes were getting a little watery and he was getting choked up.
“Okay, yeah that’s fair. Um, do you want a hug? I could use one right now.”
Tommy nodded, and the shorter wrapped his arms around Tommy, burying his head into Tommy’s shoulder. Tommy put his chin on Tubbo’s head, feeling the pressure of Tubbo’s horns near his neck. The hug was long, and the pressure was nice.
“I like having you here Tommy, please don’t let Wilbur chase you away.”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
“He needs to get over himself. I love him a lot, but truly he does.” Tubbo mumbled.
“Yeah,” Tommy breathed out, unable to speak louder because of the knot in his throat.
Pulling apart, Tommy gave him a smile.
“Let me know if you need anything, big man. Ranboo is probably wondering where I went.”
Tommy smiled and nodded, “Go ahead.”
He watched Tubbo leave the room, before he turned and headed up to his room. Entering through the door, he scanned around, finding in his headphones, and locating his running shoes, before changing into different clothes. He tied his shoes and headed out the door, popping in his headphones. Finding a song, he then turned to head down the beach.
Scratch kick, let gravity win like
fuck this let gravity win like
you could leave it all behind
even the devil needs time alone
sometimes
You could let it all go
It’s called: Freefall