Chapter Text
Tommy and Tubbo first meet in mid-June, when they’re six years old. Tubbo’s hanging out of the window of his little treehouse, when he sees a blonde, messy-haired little boy marching determinedly through the forest. “Hello?” Tubbo calls down and the boy looks up, hair flopping into his eyes.
”Hi!” The boy shouts, waving, with both tiny hands.
”Do you wanna come up to my treehouse?” Tubbo asks and the boy nods eagerly. Tubbo opens the door, “Ignore the sign! I don’t think it counts for you.”
The sign in question (taped to the door) reads, in a childish scrawl: Do NoT Entr!!
The boy climbs up the ladder clumsily and Tubbo helps pull him up. “What d’you think about my treehouse?” Tubbo asks, clapping his hands, in anticipation.
“I like it here!” the boy declares, looking around, with innocent excitement.
“Yay!” Tubbo cheers. “I’m Tubbo Underscore! What’s your name?”
”Tubbo’s a dumb name,” the boy giggles, “I’m Tommy Innit!”
”Well, I think that’s a dumb name,” Tubbo pouts.
”I think I like you,” Tommy announces. Tubbo grins.
—————
Tommy visits Tubbo every day for the next week and the two start to grow close. One day, the two of them are sitting in the treehouse, when Tommy suddenly asks, “Do you live here?”
”Yeah!” Tubbo nods.
”D’you have people you live with?” Tommy asks, sounding a little concerned.
”Uh, nope!” Tubbo shrugs.
”Have you ever lived with anyone?”
”Ummm, I don’t remember,” Tubbo says truthfully.
Whole face scrunching up, in thought, Tommy falls silent for a moment. Finally, he says, “I know! You can come and live with me and my family!”
Tubbo stares at him, eyes wide with excitement, “Can I?”
”Yeah! Of course!” Tommy grins excitedly, “C’mon! Let’s go right now!” Grabbing Tubbo by the hand, Tommy jumps to his feet and tugs the older boy along after him.
—————
Tommy drags Tubbo to a decently sized, two-story house made out of wood and stone. The house is settled cozily in the middle of a meadow and Tubbo gasps, when he sees bees flitting around, in the flowers.
"Dad! Wilby! Techie!" Tommy shouts into the house. A fairly tall, curly-haired boy comes running down the stairs to greet him.
"Heya, Toms!" Pulling him into a hug, the boy eyes Tubbo with curiosity. Despite the look being friendly enough, Tubbo ducks his head, feeling suddenly bashful. "Who's your friend?" The dark-haired boy questions, as he releases his little brother.
Tubbo ducks behind Tommy, mumbling, " 'm Tubbo."
"Hi, Tubbo," the boy greets, crouching down so he's eye level, with Tubbo, "My name's Wilbur! It's very nice to meet you." His voice has gone softer and it makes some of Tubbo's sudden shyness dissipate.
He peeks out from behind Tommy and gives Wilbur a little wave. "How old are you, Tubbo?" Wilbur asks.
Tubbo holds six fingers up and Wilbur gasps overdramatically. It makes Tubbo and Tommy both giggle. "Good heavens! Pretty soon you won't have enough fingers to show how big you are, will you?"
Tubbo shakes his head, smiling shyly. He decides right then and there that he likes Wilbur.
"I'm big too!" Tommy cuts in and Wilbur rolls his eyes good-naturedly.
"Of course you are, Toms," he says, in a placating tone. "I'm twelve," he adds to Tubbo, "Same as my twin! His name's Techno! And he’s not really my twin, but we have the same birthday so he might as well be."
Two more people enter the room then and Tubbo grabs onto Wilbur's hand for reassurance, when Tommy runs off to hug the taller one. The taller has shoulder-length, blonde hair and a funny looking hat. The other, who looks to be the same age as Wilbur, has bright pink hair that falls all the way to his waist.
"Tommy brought home another stray, Dad," Wilbur jokes and the blonde-haired man laughs loudly. It's a comforting, contagious sort of laugh and Tubbo tentatively resolves to like him too.
"Hey, mate, my name's Philza, but you can call me Phil," the man informs the boy, crouching down just like Wilbur, "What's yours?"
"Tubbo," he whispers.
"I think that's a lovely name," Phil says, with a smile.
"Tommy said it's dumb," Tubbo blurts out.
Phil's lips twitch, "Did he now?"
"Well, that's 'cause it is," Tommy protests, pouting.
"Be nice," Phil scolds gently and Tommy huffs.
The pink-haired boy laughs quietly from where he's been hovering awkwardly in the doorway. When Tubbo turns to look at him, he waves awkwardly. "My name's Technoblade," he starts.
"But we just call him Techno!" Tommy jumps in.
"Or The Blade," Wilbur adds, laughing at Techno's irritated expression.
"Yes, thank you," he says, sounding annoyed. Tubbo's not as sure about liking this one.
"Where does your family live, Tubbo?" Phil asks.
"Haven't got any," Tubbo tells him casually. He misses the horrified expressions on all, but Tommy's, face.
"Where do you get your food from?" Phil questions, sounding concerned.
"The village people are nice!" Tubbo says, smiling, "They give me food!"
"Well, that's good, at least," Phil breathes.
"Can he live with us, Dad?" Tommy asks, tugging on Phil's sleeve, "He was livin' in a treehouse all by himself!"
"If he has nowhere else to go, I'd be happy for him to live here," Phil smiles.
Tommy cheers and flings his arms around Tubbo's neck, in a bone-crushing hug. Wilbur starts a chant of 'New brother' that Tommy joins in with gusto. Techno rolls his eyes, but gives Tubbo a quick pat on the head that feels both painfully awkward and sweet.
That day, is one that Tubbo remembers for a very long time.
—————
A few weeks after Tubbo had started living with the family, he drags Tommy up to a little hill near the house. "We're gonna make flower crowns!" He tells Tommy, with a grin, as they sit down.
”That sounds boring,” Tommy whines and Tubbo laughs.
”It’s not boring!” Tubbo says, “I’ll teach you how to do it!” He makes Tommy help him pick flowers, before weaving the brightest red and yellow ones together to form a crown that looks all the more lovely for its imperfections.
Plopping it onto Tommy’s head, Tubbo claps his hands together, in excitement. “It looks awesome!” He says happily.
Tommy wrinkles his nose, in response, but gives in, with a sigh, “Show how to do it.” Tubbo guides the little hands, with his own small ones around the stems of the flowers, grinning whenever Tommy manages to do it on his own.
Tommy’s first attempt is messy and full of more greenery than flowers, but it’s so endearingly characteristic that Tubbo loves it just the same, when the other boy crowns him, with a proud grin. They work together to craft three more wondrous creations, such as the first two, and then return home in triumph to the rest of the family.
The first that they present the gift to is Wilbur, who showers it, with praise. "Who could have possibly made this?" Wilbur asks, placing it on his head overcautiously.
"Me and Tubs!" Tommy says, grinning.
"You?" Wilbur asks, pretending to be shocked, "I thought it was made by a professional, for sure!" Tommy and Tubbo laugh happily at this praise and Wilbur pulls them both into a tight, overbearing hug, before joining them to see Techno's reaction.
Techno, who accepts the offering, with a solemnity that belies the situation. "Just put it on!" Tommy bounces around the room, with impatience.
Techno snorts with laughter and sets the crown on his head. Snatching up a nearby blanket, he throws it over his shoulders like a cape. "Nerd," Wilbur coughs into his hand and the pink-haired boy gives him a look of mock-offense.
"I have been crowned Prince of the Flowers," Techno says impressively, despite his laughter, "Kneel before me, peasant!"
"I won’t ever kneel to anyone," Wilbur says. He's very clearly joking, but there's a glint of something in his eyes that has never been there before. Nobody notices and the expression fades, as fast as it had appeared.
The last member of the family to receive a crown, is Phil, who replaces his usual hat, with the crown of flowers, in an instant. He scoops Tommy and Tubbo up in his arms, wings unfurling to wrap around them both. “I’ll treasure it forever,” he promises and both young boys grin ear to ear.
Phil keeps his promise; wearing it faithfully, until it’s almost dead. At that point, he presses it, in order to preserve the flowers and keeps it in a scrapbook of memories, full of miscellaneous items and carefully kept pictures. On the page opposite the crown, is the very first picture of Tubbo to go into the scrapbook.
It’s one of Tommy and Tubbo up on that same hill; Tubbo is weaving flowers together absent-mindedly and Tommy has his arms slung around the older boy’s neck, refusing to let go. It’s remarkably endearing and, throughout the years, it’s a photograph that the boys regard with both fondness and embarrassment.
—————
Tubbo’s been living with the family for half a year, when his birthday rolls around. He’s awoken to Tommy pouncing on him and shaking him awake, with yells of excitement. It’s almost as if it’s Tommy’s birthday, with how excited the younger boy is. He practically pushes Tubbo down the stairs, in his effort to get him to go faster and the, now seven year old, Tubbo can’t find it in himself to be irritated.
He honestly hadn’t expected much, but he’s greeted in the kitchen, by three voices saying, “Happy birthday!”
Four presents, wrapped with varying degrees of neatness, are waiting for him on the kitchen table and Tubbo gapes at it all. “Open mine first! Open mine first!” Tommy urges, pointing to a bag, with tissue paper stuffed in at random.
Tubbo complies, as the rest of the family looks on, with fond smiles. Inside the bag, is a red bandanna, with the letters ‘T U’ carefully stitched on the inside. “Techno made it and Wilbur did that bit!” Tommy says excitedly, pointing at the letters, “But it was all my idea and I picked out the color and everything! Red is the coolest color in the world and you’re the coolest person in the world, so that’s why.” He pauses, before saying, in a shyer voice, “D’you like it?”
Tubbo just tackles him, in a hug, by way of a response. Phil and Wilbur both ‘aw’ and Techno says, “Affection. Disgusting,” though his smile is audible. Phil helps Tubbo tie the, slightly too large, bandanna around his neck and he wears it on most days for a very long time.
Phil’s present is a massive plushie of a bumblebee and Tubbo hugs it to his chest, for the rest of the day. Techno’s gift is a children’s storybook. They only realize later that Tubbo has more trouble reading it, than most kids his age.
Tubbo doesn’t understand Wilbur’s present at first, but he explains its purpose patiently. It’s a compass, glowing a gentle shade of purple and Tubbo turns it over in his hands, liking the smooth feeling of the metal sides. “It’s a lodestone compass,” Wilbur tells him, a gentle smile on his face, “And it always points right here; to this house. That way, if you ever get lost, or just need a place to land, you can always find your way back home.”
Home. That’s something that Tubbo’s never had before. He’s never really referred to this house as ‘home’ before. It’s always been Tommy’s family, Tommy’s home, but, suddenly, it strikes Tubbo that, maybe, it can be all of those things for him too.
After that day, it is those things for him and Tubbo can’t imagine calling anything, but those familiar walls, ‘home’ for a very long time.
—————
In the weeks before Tommy’s seventh birthday, Tubbo commissions a matching bandanna to be made, by Wilbur and Techno. This one is green instead of red, with the letters ‘T I’ written in Wilbur’s careful stitching.
Tommy is absolutely thrilled with it and wears it, as faithfully as Tubbo wears his. The two have only known each other for a little less than a year, but, to an outsider, they would probably look as if they’d known each other their entire lives.
—————
When Tommy and Tubbo are nine years old, Techno and Wilbur take it upon themselves to teach them skills that they find useful. Phil encourages it, always seeming glad when all four manage to get along.
Techno, at fifteen years old, is already very good at combat and is eager to teach the younger boys the basics. He had been thirteen, when he had begun to hear voices and he quickly discovered that they're calmed easiest, when he was fighting. So, he picked up both archery and swordplay and devoted much of his time to both crafts.
Tommy is drawn to these lessons like a moth to a light and he picks it up fairly quickly. Tubbo, on the other hand feels clumsy and awkward, with the wooden practice blade in his hands and trips over his own feet, more often than he gets the movements right.
Wilbur endeavors to teach the boys the skills of an orator, or a songwriter; showing them how to write eloquent little speeches and how to draw a crowd, with just a few words. Tommy finds the hours spent indoors infinitely boring, though Tubbo finds it much more interesting than learning how to fight.
Eventually, Techno gives up trying to make Tubbo stay upright and Wilbur gives up trying to make Tommy sit still. It becomes more and more common, over that year to see Tommy and Techno practicing increasingly complex fighting maneuvers, in the backyard with wooden swords; while Tubbo and Wilbur sit at a window, where they can watch the others easily, and write lovely songs and speeches together.
Tommy’s small hands learn, for the first time, how to grip a sword tight between them and he uses the techniques taught to him, in a quite unique way. He swings and lunges, with a reckless, carefree abandon that both exasperates and impresses Technoblade. Meanwhile, Tubbo’s small voice begins to learn how to give shape to the big thoughts in his head. Occasionally he spouts off a line, or two, that makes Wilbur stare at him, with an excited glimmer in his eyes.
Tommy and Tubbo are as inseparable, as ever, and, with their newfound skills, they compliment each other more than ever. They balance each other out, in a way that they never have before.
Phil watches both practices, whenever he gets the opportunity, to and nobody is more proud of all four of his boys.
—————
It’s when the two are ten years old that Phil starts to take Techno on long adventures, with him, leaving a sixteen year old Wilbur in charge of his younger brothers. Wilbur takes it upon himself to make up for Techno’s absence and continues Tommy’s training, whenever the pink-haired teen is gone.
Wilbur makes sure that Tubbo knows the basics of fighting, as well (even though Tubbo would rather be doing practically anything else) and makes Tommy attend some of Tubbo’s lessons, perhaps in an attempt to curb Tommy’s increasingly rash tongue.
Techno and Phil’s day trips turn into weeks, which, on occasion, turn into months. Tommy and Tubbo aren’t quite old enough to notice the stress, lining Wilbur’s too-young face, but they do notice the way that Wilbur is always around (even when Techno and Phil aren’t) and love him all the better for it.
Once, when they’re eleven, it’s the night after the others had returned from one of their longer trips and Tommy and Tubbo hear arguing from downstairs, after they go to bed. Creeping to their door, they poke their heads out to listen.
”I can’t do it alone, like this,” Wilbur’s voice is saying, sounding on the edge of tears.
”You’re doing just fine, mate,” Phil’s voice says, a dismissive edge to his tone.
”No, I’m not!” Wilbur says desperately, “I’m so tired all the time and I’m always so worried that they’re going to get into trouble that I can’t help them out of.”
”They’re old enough to look after themselves, for the most part. You don’t have to do too much,” Phil says easily.
”It’s not fair!” Wilbur shouts at him, “How come everyone I know who’s my age gets to be a kid, but I don’t? Just because you and Techno want to go all around the fucking world, without your family.”
”That’s enough, Will,” Phil says sharply.
”Fuck you,” Wilbur says and he’s almost certainly crying now, “You’re a shit dad.”
”I said that’s enough, Wilbur,” Phil says, in a tone brooking no argument, “You need to calm down. Go to bed and we’ll talk more in the morning.”
”No, we won’t,” Wilbur says quietly, “You’ll just come up with some other excuse and we’ll never talk about this again.”
”Go to bed, Will.”
So soft the boys can hardly hear it, “I hate you.”
A sigh and then, just as soft, “I know.”
The stairs creak, as someone starts to climb up them, and Tommy and Tubbo snap their door shut, staring at each other with wide, shocked eyes. They go to bed, feeling shaken and neither can manage to fall asleep, until late that night.
Things are different after that, between Wilbur and Phil. Wilbur only talks to Phil, if he really, truly has to and, even then, his words are stilted and formal. Phil tries to keep up a sense of normalcy, but Wilbur doesn’t even allow the man to hug him anymore. Tommy, Tubbo, and Techno are left awkwardly somewhere in the middle.
Techno is alway inclined to take Phil’s side, in arguments, but Tommy and Tubbo almost always side with Wilbur. After all, Wilbur has done a better job of parenting them than Phil has, for the past year.
—————
Tommy really starts to understand the way that Phil has become neglectful on his twelfth birthday. Phil and Techno had left three days prior, with earnest promises to be back in time to celebrate, with the rest of the family.
When Tommy clatters down the staircase that morning, beaming with excitement, he’s greeted by two faces instead of four. Two hugs, instead of four. Two presents, instead of four. Wilbur presses a letter into his hand, a myriad of apologies in his eyes. Tommy opens the letter, with shaking hands.
It contains one small paragraph that half-heartedly apologizes for not being able to make it. It’s signed by both Techno and Phil, with a present of a single emerald attached. “Oh,” Tommy says quietly, staring at the items in his hands.
He crumples the letter, in one shaking fist and throws it across the table, pocketing the emerald. Rubbing hard at his eyes, with both fists, he wills himself not to cry. Somehow, it works and he looks up, with a grin and an eagerness to move onto the next presents.
He doesn’t realize at the time, but something pure and innocent disappears from his eyes that day. All he knows is that Wilbur is more furious with their father than ever and, for the first time, he truly understands why.
—————
It’s around this time that Technoblade starts to compete in tournaments; throwing himself into his fighting harder than ever and becoming increasingly distant to the family he had once been close to. He moves out of their little house and into the city, to be closer to any opportunity that might present itself. At eighteen years old, he’s labelled a prodigy, by his ability to amaze every judge and audience that sees him in action.
He starts to talk of a rival, in these competitions. A rival, by the name of Dream. Dream, apparently, has also been called a prodigy, by many, and is the only one who can keep pace with Techno.
Once, he brings Dream home to introduce him to the rest of the family. The man is wearing a mask, when he arrives, that unsettles Tommy greatly. Even when he takes it off, there’s something about him that Tommy doesn’t quite trust. He shakes hands with the whole family and Tommy’s glad to see that Wilbur appears to share his mistrust.
Techno had always referred to him as a rival, but the way they talk together and share inside jokes, speaks more of friendship than rivalry.
“I’m thinking of founding something of a nation soon,” Dream tells them all, over dinner, “I can’t fight in the arenas for my entire life and, with the money I’m getting, I can block off a pretty large section of the world.”
”Why are you telling us this?” Wilbur asks.
”Because you all seem very... interesting,” Dream says, shrugging, “I could probably use people like you there. Don’t tell them I said this, but my friends can get pretty boring after a while.”
”That’s not very nice,” Tubbo speaks up, picking at his food, with his fork.
”It’s just a joke,” Dream laughs dismissively, “It’s fine.”
”Mm,” Tubbo responds, mouth thinning.
All in all, Dream leaves a pretty good impression and Tommy can’t lie to himself; the prospect of moving to a whole different nation sounds like an exciting adventure. “Mr. Minecraft,” Dream says, as he’s leaving, “I’ll write to you, when I’m ready for any of your kids to come to my nation, yeah?”
”Sure thing, mate,” Phil smiles, “I’m sure they’d all be happy for the opportunity.”
”Well, don’t forget about me,” Dream laughs, as he secures his mask back onto his face. They don’t forget about him. In fact, not one of them is given the opportunity to forget about him, for the rest of their lives.
—————
The letter comes, when Tommy and Tubbo are fourteen. They return home after a day of exploring the woods, to Wilbur brandishing a letter in their faces. “Here we are, lads,” he exclaims, “Guess who it’s from?”
”Phil?” Tubbo guesses.
”Techno?” Tommy pitches in, head in the refrigerator, as he raids it for any cold drink he can find.
”Both wrong!” Wilbur grins, “It’s from Dream!”
Tommy gasps and pulls his head out of the fridge, so fast that he hits his head on the top of it. Rubbing the back of his head, he says, “He wants us all to come to his nation?”
Wilbur’s smile fades slightly, “Well, he only wants you two for now... But it’s okay! I’m really happy for both of you!”
Some of the pure joy and excitement, that had bubbled up in Tommy, is flattened at the knowledge that they’ll have to leave Wilbur. Still, Will is happy for them, so that means that it’s okay for them to be happy too. Besides, Dream will probably invite Will sometime soon. They probably won’t have to wait too long for him to join them.
So, Tommy joins Tubbo in his victory dance, without too much guilt and they both allow Wilbur to squeeze them in a tight hug. They write to Phil to tell him the news and he responds with a letter, saying that he won’t be able to come home in time to see them off, but that he’s happy for them all the same.
The boys push down their disappointment and pack up, trying to feel nothing, but excitement. Dream comes a week after his letter to pick them up and lead them to the borders of his nation, the DreamSMP, and they hug Wilbur an, admittedly tearful, goodbye. They look back at Wilbur’s waving figure for as long as they can, until they round a bend and can’t see him anymore.
Wilbur waves until he’s sure that they’re well and truly gone, before returning, with a deep sense of loneliness, into the very quiet, very empty house. Tommy and Tubbo greet this new adventure, with bright smiles, cheery laughs and the childish certainty that nothing at all could go wrong.