Chapter Text
Techno had been fifteen and Wilbur seventeen when Tommy’s was brought into their lives.
Tommy was a quiet, angry ten year old that Phil had dragged home. A permanent scowl on his face with hollow cheeks and ill-fitting clothes. His wings were dead weights on his back and his feathers were all over the place, most of them bent or barely hanging on. You could count his ribs, and he hated being touched.
Phil had brought him home, plopped him down at the table, and shoved food in front of him without even acknowledging that he hadn’t ever been there before.
Tommy scarfed down the food quickly and without saying a word, his eyes glancing at Wilbur and Techno with a fierce glare, as if daring them to try and take it from him.
They hid their amusement and annoyance, and didn’t acknowledge him at all, just accepting his presence.
Phil forced him to take a shower, and then gave him the guest room to sleep in.
Once they knew that Tommy was asleep (hours after he’d been told to get some rest, as Tommy understandably didn’t trust them), they talked about his arrival.
“Dragging home another stray, huh?” Techno had deadpanned. After all, Wilbur had been brought home essentially the same way, over ten years ago at that point.
“If he stays,” Phil had sighed.
Wilbur had laughed. “As if you’d let him leave in the state he’s in.”
Tommy didn’t trust them. His wings were drawn so close to his body that no one could even tell what species he was, or if his wings small nature was because he was a small bird or if it was malnourishment.
He didn’t speak a word the next morning, only reluctantly coming down to eat breakfast.
Phil had offered to show him how to help out around the farm when he was strong enough, but he’d only gotten a blank, confused stare.
Tommy hadn’t thought he was going to stay in order to be strong again.
Wilbur and Phil had tried asking questions. How old are you? What’s your name? How long have you been on your own? What’s would you prefer to eat?
The only answer they hadn’t gotten was for the last question.
“I don’t give a shit,” Tommy had rasped in a croaky, underused voice that was barely audible or understandable. “Food’s food. I’ll take whatever you give me until you stop giving me it.”
Tommy had resumed eating, and he missed the look that Techno, Phil, and Wilbur shared over his head.
A mutual, silent agreement broke between the three of them.
This kid’s staying.
———
A week later, they finally got his name.
Surprisingly, Techno was the one who managed to get it.
“I gotta stop calling you kid in my head,” Techno had said. “At least give me a nickname or something. Or a fake name. I don’t give a shit. You think my real name’s Techno? Even Phil doesn’t know what my real name is.”
Tommy hadn’t answered for a little while, just standing there staring at him as he cleaned up the kitchen after dinner.
But as Techno passed him, going up the stairs to bed, Tommy had whispered his response.
“Tommy,” he had said, in a voice barely above a whisper. “They called me Tommy.”
“Sounds good,” Techno had replied without missing a beat, continuing up the stairs without another word.
Techno hadn’t told Phil or Wilbur Tommy’s name, figuring it was something Tommy had to tell them himself.
Tommy had been surprised by this when the next morning, all three of them didn’t say his name once. He’d caught Techno’s eye while Wilbur and Phil weren’t looking and nodded slightly.
Techno had nodded back.
They never spoke of it after that.
Not even when Tommy had finally told Phil and Wilbur his name three days after he’d told Techno.
Phil and Wilbur still don’t know, even six years later.
The scowl, the angry eyes, the hidden wings. They never went away.
———
Wilbur was the one who caught him trying to sneak away from them three weeks after he’d first arrived.
“You won’t get far, y’know,” Wilbur had said nonchalantly, causing Tommy to freeze in the windowsill of the guest bedroom. “Phil will be searching for you before sunrise if you leave now.”
It had been very early morning, perhaps three in the morning.
“Dunno why,” Tommy had said gruffly. “I’m just another mouth to feed. I’m just some kid. What’s so special about me that he dragged me here?”
That was the most he’d ever said at one time before, but Wilbur didn’t miss a beat with responding.
“Phil’s too empathetic for his own good,” Wilbur had said. “He can’t take in every kid, y’know. So he takes in the ones he can. Me and Techno are both just kids he picked up when we were younger who he unofficially adopted.”
Tommy hadn’t responded, just staring at him as he continued.
“You’re a fool if you think you’ll be able to get away,” Wilbur had continued. “The moment you stepped through that door you became one of us. I should know. I tried running once. I feel shit about that choice now. If you’re going to go, then go. But don’t be surprised when you’re hauled back here shortly after dawn.”
With that, Wilbur had left. Leaving Tommy halfway out the window, thinking.
In the end, Tommy had stayed.
Wilbur never said a word to either Phil or Techno about their interaction that night. He never mentioned it again to Tommy either.
Six years later, Tommy was glad he hadn’t ran.
———
A month and a half after his arrival at the farm was when he admitted he needed help.
He’d gone to Phil in the middle of the night, crying from the pain in his feathers but desperately trying not to make a noise. It was the first time the scowl had left his face, the first time anger wasn’t present in his eyes. The first time his wings weren’t pulled tightly against his back to ensure no one could tell what species he was.
Tommy’s feathers had throbbed incessantly, each one sending its own spike of pain through him every time he moved. It had been getting bad, due to his lack of grooming them, but at that point it had been unbearable.
So he’d gone to Phil.
Phil had been sleeping, so his confusion when he saw a crying Tommy standing in his doorway increased, but his concern was overpowering.
They spent the rest of the night together, as Phil preened Tommy’s badly damaged feathers and softly running a hand through his hair while muttering encouraging words when he had to pull the ones that were beyond hope of saving.
Tommy had fallen asleep against Phil afterwards, as the sun came up. Phil followed suit not long after. Techno had opened the door to see why Phil was sleeping in so late, but when he’d seen the sight, he just closed the door once more.
When Tommy woke up later that morning, his wings no longer hurting and curled into Phil’s chest unharmed, he decided that he was going to stay. Forever.
Phil never spoke of that night to Techno and Wilbur, though he did mention it to Tommy sometimes when they were alone.
———
So now, as Tommy woke up into a pile of limbs and fluffed up feathers, surrounded by family (that now of course included Tubbo and Fundy) and warmth and heat and safety, he decided for the second time in his life that he was going to stay.
Forever.