Chapter Text
While the people of the village ran to evacuate, a certain android was left in their wake.
He had woken up to multiple alarms and warning messages on his dashboard. Slack on the floor, torn from his charging port in his creator's room. Creator of which was nowhere to be seen. Perhaps he went to the lab. It doesn't explain why he was on the floor. Or the messages. Joints creaked as he stood. His sensors detected a high percentage of carbon dioxide. Was there a fire? Gas leak?
The reality was worse than any central processing unit could predict. Houses lined the small road, ablaze in fiery terror. Red vines circled amongst the buildings. The android let out a string of garbles in surprise.
Ah. That explains it.
He scanned the area surrounding him.
The town was vacant, with no human in sight, aside from the unmoving bodies on the ground. One of which lay lifeless in front of him. He fruitlessly scanned the person's vitals, knowing what it would show. Deceased for about four hours now.
The android attempted to identify the corpse, but couldn't see past the blood-cake hair that enveloped their face. He could see a sword in one of their hands, still in an iron grip as if they were still in battle.
With a bit of force, he slid it out of their grip. The robot swung, testing it on a nearby vine. The end of the vine plopped on the ground still wriggling like a fallen lizard's tail.
The fire showed no signs of stopping, spreading to the black house in front of him. The old oak standing tall beside it had caught fire spreading contagiously towards the spindly branches. The fire weakened the trunk, tilting it precariously over the house. The body of the tree fell, creating a large cavity in the roof.
Sam Nook would've paid the scene no mind, the living inhabitants seemingly evacuated. However, a shrieking cry from the house made him stop in his tracks.
It was an infant's no doubt, its wailing echoing across the town. Without a second more passed, he dashed for the building.
The vines heard it too. Crimson growths ran its way to the base of the house, blocking the android's path to the door. Sam quickly made work of them, slicing through with a wave of the sword.
He burst through the door, the weeping growing louder and louder. The vines squirmed their way through the burning kitchen's windows, making Nook weave and slice through them.
The crying was heard loudest outside the door of what Sam Nook presumed was a bedroom. Walking through, smoke layered the top of the room in an awful dark haze. Turning on his night vision, he spotted a shaking wooden crib in the corner beside a large bed. Stepping closer, a baby was cradled inside, swaddled with various blankets. A ‘T’ was carved inside a heart placed at the foot of the crib.
The robot gently held the infant in his other arm, scanning their vitals as he quickly exited the building.
According to his processor, the child was the only human detected in the building, and he was likely the only one left in the entire town.
Meaning someone abandoned their baby.
In his very short time of existence, Sam Nook had trouble understanding the human psyche. But across all species of animals, including humans, it was very unlikely to abandon their kin, unless they were a runt.
But besides common symptoms of smoke inhalation, the baby seemed perfectly fine. Humans don't stick to the rules of runts anyway, so Nook was perplexed by the lone child.
Ruthlessly cutting his way out of the building, he made sure to walk near the houses that were not burning. The baby had stopped crying and looked up toward their rescuer. Electric blue met the black lenses in his retinas.
From what he gathered from his evaluation, the infant was male, however, the parents and name of the child were unknown to him. Though he was no stranger to the people of the town, his duty at the lab kept him from storing all identities of its citizens in his database.
The only hint of a name he got was the letter ‘T’ which could be part of his first, last, or even middle name.
Before Sam Nook began his search for the evacuees, it would be best to give the child a temporary name for simplicity's sake.
When he wasn't working at the lab or charging, his creator encouraged him to store all the information the library had to offer. Few of which were books of popular baby names.
His CPU recalled some of the more prominent “T” names in his memory, randomly landing on one.
Tommy
That'll do for now.
“Tommy,” He tested, gently rocking the child as if devilish crimson wasn't taking over his town.
Tommy cooed, reaching up to touch the robot's face.
Sam Nook warbled happily in response.
—
A bowl was left on his nightstand when he woke up again. It was still hot when he touched the side.
Tommy carefully balanced the bowl in his arms, sipping the soup carefully. It was quite well-flavored, unsurprisingly. Sam was always the better cook. Tommy couldn't remember a time when he cooked something that wasn't a health hazard.
He recognized various vegetables as he chewed. Carrots, celery, potatoes...
Wait.
He drew back from the bowl, inspecting it. Much to his chagrin, he noticed painfully familiar-looking beans floating around in his soup.
“Goddammit!”
Damn ass purple-hull peas!
He considered ditching the whole bowl entirely, but his hunger decided against it.
Thanks to the nature of his powers, Tommy could survive without food a bit longer than average, as long as he is under the sun's grace. He'd learned that the hard way.
However, after everything, Tommy ached for something solid to eat. So, he brought the bowl back up and started drinking, cursing Nook in the process.
—
He was so so so bored. He hadn't seen Sam since he woke up. Tommy guessed he was busy doing chores, including his. He won't be seeing him for a while, he supposed.
Maybe he could sneak out to the library and use their VCR? Nah, Sam would catch him easily. Besides it's not like there's anything there he hasn't already watched.
In times like this, he wished there was someone else in this town to talk to. Sam Nook was his most loyal and gracious companion, but it's hard to make quips to a robot with a humorless nature.
Heck, he'll settle for chatting with one of their cattle. Or chickens. Or horses. He'd even be willing to make friends with bugs to break the wretched silence.
Bugs…
He sat up in a flash.
Hold on…
He already is friends with a bug! (Shroud was an arachnid, so technically not a bug, but he quickly dismissed the thought).
Upside down, Tommy peered under the bed to where he had left his spider friend.
He hoped that Shroud didn't think he abandoned him! It's not his fault he got knocked out by some pre-poultry (even if he was partially to blame).
His eyes landed on the glass jar, Shit, Shroud hasn't been fed in weeks! Tommy would never forgive himself if he killed the first friend he'd made in a while. Looking closer, the blonde was met with the horror of an empty jar. He knew he should have put some sort of top on!
The teen leaped out of bed onto the floor, partially crawling underneath the bed to search. The crevice was brimming with dust, making him sneeze as soon as he stuck his head under. Stuffing his sinuses with dirt and dust after waking up from a coma probably wasn't very smart, but it's not like there was a robot to scold him, anyway.
The space underneath his bed housed old children's books he'd long forgotten about, singular socks that he hadn't seen in months, and old clothes folded neatly into wooden boxes. In other words, it held things he meant to put away but never got around to doing, so he just kicked the clutter under the bed to avoid the inevitable lecture from Sam about cleaning.
Sifting through the mess, he grew increasingly more panicked as he failed to find his spider. Did he leave through the window? The door? He'd never find him if he decided to hole up in a cranny in the other rooms! Tommy lifted a dusty picture book on the very far corner, about some random duck named Benson, but to no avail. To Tommy's horror, he concluded that Shroud was missing. Or worse. Sam Nook was hardly a soft-footed person in day-to-day activities, only putting energy in stealth when absolutely necessary. Having been frequently walking in and out of Tommy's room, Sam definitely could have stepped on him without even knowing!
With a defeated sigh, Tommy retracted from underneath the bed, sprawling out on the floor. Whether or not Shroud was missing or dead, he was back to where he started. Alone, bored, and forced to stare at the ugly popcorn ceiling. Except now he was laying on the grimy-ass hardwood floors instead of his nice bed. Might as well move.
Before he dejectedly did, he noticed a spot on the ceiling, just above his bed in the corner. Rising up from his spot on the ground he got up on his bed to get a closer look. A bed of webs held a familiar bulbous creature with its signature red hourglass on its back. Trapped within the webs, was what seemed to be the other half of a fly.
“Shroud!”
He leaned down to swipe his jar, holding it against the wall for Shrould to climb inside.
It was certainly hesitant, definitely not wanting to leave the meal it was currently eating. Realizing this, he picked out a twig from the jar, flicking the fly's carcass inside. That seemed to be enough, as the spider soon followed.
Someone with a right mind might be perturbed with the thought of a Black Widow living above their bed for weeks on end, however, Tommy's craving for interacting with another living being far exceeded any sort of common sense he may or may not have had.
So, after retrieving his friend, he immediately started to yap to the silent arachnid, who was too busy devouring the other half of the fly to even start to comprehend the chatter.
“You won't believe what's happened!” Tommy started.
“You might have been wondering where I've been, you must have, since I haven't been feeding you, sorry about that by the way. Anyway, so it started during me and Sam's hike a few weeks ago…”
—
“And so I called him a bitch right in front of his face!” He said to the drone, which was splayed out across his workbench.
He picked up a slim screwdriver, quickly inspecting it before using it to twist in the final screw to his masterpiece.
The little robot propellers whirled, quickly picking up speed.
“You should've seen his face! I wish I had it on camera, he scolded me for thirty minutes straight after!” The mechanic flipped the drone back over laying a hand over the machine.
With a flick of his wrist, the drone took flight, circling him.
“Maybe I could convince Dad to give me access to the security cameras to snag the footage” He pondered, resting his head on the table.
The propellers of his metal friend continued to buzz.
After some thought, he sighed, “Then again, probably not the best person to ask.”
It was near sundown, and most of his coworkers had already left. He could, too, if he wished, but it's not like he had anything else to do.
“The Patrol Force did get new recruits, maybe I can sway one of them to help me. Newbies are easily the most prone to bribery,” He explained, smirking.
The drone flew around the teen, now quicker.
“I would do it myself, but the security quarters are on the other side of the building! It's like they made it me-proof.” He huffed.
The whirling of propellers continued as the mechanic pulled out another damaged drone from the mountainous pile.
“Yeah, Yeah, I could always go to the left wing, but people would start asking me questions! They wouldn't understand the importance of my motives. Too much of a hassle in my opinion.” He flipped the frame, quickly disassembling the remains of the machine.
“If only people were as agreeing as you, buddy.” He frowned.
The drone landed to his right, buzzing soon slowing down to a stop.
The brunette fell into his usual groove of things: Disassemble, reassemble, fix this, fix that, yada yada, etcetera.
Dusk soon fell into the evening as he resumed his task. It was silent with the occasional whirl of air conditioning or the clang of metal against each other.
The teen's focus was ultimately broken when a hand landed on his shoulder. Immediately tensing, the boy jumped in his seat, letting out a yelp.
He jerked his head towards the perpetrator startling him, relaxing once he recognized their face.
“Woah! You nearly fell out of your chair there, Tubbo,” The man chuckled.
“Sam, don't sneak up on a guy like that!” He sputtered, punching him in the arm.
“I wasn't even trying to scare you!” He reasoned, “Metal boots aren't the most effective in terms of stealth.” Clanking sounded from his feet, exemplified with a swift stomp.
Tubbo leaned back in his beloved swivel chair, looking at the white fluorescent lights that should totally get swapped for LEDs because their current ones make the building feel like an asylum. Plus they give way more wattage than fluorescent anyways-
A gentle flick to his head snapped him out of his inner ramblings.
“You good there Tubbo?” Sam's once playful look shifted into one of mild concern, “You've been in your head a lot today, more than usual.”
“Yeah, I'm fine. I guess I've just been caught up in drone repair the past couple of days.”
“I bet, you've been practically living in the Tech Department this week.” Sam looked over to the pile of scrappy drones, “How many were turned in today?”
“Almost a hundred, but they're probably fifty more that haven't been sent in yet.”
Tubbo turned back around to his current fixee, screwing a new camera into place, “The pile’s been growing substantially since March, no doubt from the boom in crime on the East side,” He remarked.
Sam whistled, “Didn't realize it was getting that bad, you think your dad's gonna make a statement on it?” The man picked up a nasty-looking drone from the pile, doing a once-over before opening the frame.
A brief silence fell upon the pair as they both fiddled with their respective drones.
Sam finished up his drone first, closing it off with a final click (He was always faster than Tubbo, he never knew how that man worked so quickly). Leaning on the workbench, he placed the drone on a caddy with the other fixed robots.
“No, he won't.” He finally answered, “It'll just raise tensions on the East side, maybe even creating distrust in the agency.” The teen finished his drone, too, setting it on the caddy with the others.
“Communications are gonna keep it discreet for as long as they can, it's probably why they're more eager to hire new recruits to the Patrol Force.”
Sam stood up from where he was leaning on the table, turning to the younger with a smile, “That reminds me, they've planned a little pre-debut party in the canteen to welcome the new Patrol Force members.” He mentioned, “I was going to ask you if you wanted to come.”
“I don't know Sam, parties aren't really my thing.” It was true, while he did enjoy playing tricks with the music and lights with his powers, he'd usually have to spend most parties having to follow his dad around. Nowadays he spends them in dimly lit corners where he isn't bothered by any scrutinizing gazes or remarks. All in all, parties either made him uncomfortable, or extremely bored.
“Come on Tubbo, it's informal, no fancy dress codes or politics, just a small get-together with all the Agency's divisions! Plus, it'll be good to meet people your age, I've heard the recruits are on the younger side.”
“You sound like a mom trying to convince her kid to go to summer camp.”
The man barked out a laugh, “That may be true, but I'm serious, you've been working hard. You don't always have to go full throttle every day, let yourself breathe sometimes.”
“Now you sound like a high school counselor.” The teen smiled.
“Now you sound like you're deflecting.” He retorted.
“Why do you have to be a good boss? Why can't you encourage burnout like any other typical corporate executive?”
Sam smiled, “You wish,” He taunted, flicking the boy's head once more.
“You deserve a break though. Just this once?”
Tubbo drew out a long, exaggerated groan, before plopping his head on the table.
“Fineee.” He grumbled.
He clapped his hands in delight, “Great! See you at eight!”
“Wait, it's tonight?!” He shot upwards shouting to an escaping Sam.
“Yup! Anyway I've gotta go do something, bye!”
“You never told me-!” He was interrupted by the door slamming shut.
“Asshole.”
He debated on skipping it, favoring the calm, quiet, familiar atmosphere of his workplace. But, to be honest, as much as he loves working with his tech, he was getting a little bored. A change of scenery would be nice, too. Maybe he could put in that bribery for the camera room after all.
He put his tools down for the final time for the night and looked towards the cityscape splayed out beyond the lab's large windows. City lights gave a stark contrast against the deep blues and blacks that filled the ocean of twilight.
If Tubbo had to pick a favorite part of his job, it would obviously be the opportunity to apply his passion and skill for technology. However, the sight of the entire city on one the tallest buildings in L'Manburg was definitely a contender for second.
Cracking his knuckles in a satisfying pop, he mentally braced himself for the upcoming festivities.