Chapter Text
When he finally opened his swollen eyes, he was met with the sight of the TV in the dim lighting of the room. Soft sunlight filtered through the curtained windows and warmed the blanket covering his body. He groaned a little, rubbing his head as he sat up and tried to compose himself.
What the fuck is that buzzing sound?
Still half asleep, it just annoyed him and he looked around the dark room. Finally gaining a few brain cells as he grew more conscious, he managed to fish his phone out of his pants pocket. It stopped vibrating and a missed call notification flashed on the small screen. He stared for a moment, eyes widening when they took in the time on the small screen.
Shit, shit, shit.
"I was supposed to pick up Tubbo from school an hour ago," he growled to himself, his frustration practically radiating off of him. When he finally found his shoes and pulled a jacket on, he looked at his phone again, noticing four missed calls from his son's school. He hit the "return call" icon and put the phone to his ear, rushing out the door with car keys in hand. As he drove, he apologized to the school, lighting a cigarette.
When he finally got to the school, he parked the truck outside the school and got out. Sitting on the front steps of the school was a small boy with tiny horns peeking out of his messy brown hair. Schlatt took a deep breath and tossed the cigarette butt on the ground, stomping it out before walking up to the child.
"Hey, kid." At the sound of his father's voice, Tubbo looked up and a wide grin spread across his face. He picked up his backpack and went to put it on, Schlatt scooping the boy up and holding him on his hip.
It was quite an interesting sight, the tall rugged man holding the small child on his hip like some kind of soccer mom. Tubbo held up a paper, showing his dad a drawing of two stick figures and a little bee between them. The man looked down and offered a small smile, ruffling his son’s hair a little.
“That’s really good, Tubbo,” he praised. The child beamed, kicking his legs gleefully.
Schlatt almost dropped the damn kid and it dawned on him that he likely was getting too big to be carried like this anymore. He would probably be too big already if not for his abnormally small size, most of the other kids being taller than him. Plus, Tubbo would practically beg him to be carried half the time. He hated walking places. Not wanting to listen to him whine, Schlatt obliged. As he broke out of his haze of thought, a woman was walking towards him, obviously upset. He scowled to himself. This was Tubbo’s teacher.
“Do you realize how late you are? All students are supposed to be picked up no later than half an hour after the day gets out.”
Schlatt wasn’t even listening now, a sigh escaping his lips as he ran his free hand through his hair, trying not to get stuck on his large horns.
“Ms. McCain, how was I supposed to remember it was a half-day? I don’t understand why the kids have to get out earlier, anyway, they’re supposed to be learning here,” he retorted. She looked less than impressed.
“Every Wednesday is a half-day. It’s been that way for the four months Tubbo has been enrolled here.”
Her hands were on her hips, and she was trying to keep a cheerful tone despite the look on her face, presumably because of Tubbo’s presence. Schlatt half-heartedly apologized for being late and quickly excused the two of them from the situation, putting Tubbo down halfway through the conversation. When the woman finally left them alone, he breathed a sigh of relief and walked the two of them back to his truck, the child clinging to him the whole way there.
Schlatt helped him into the pickup truck and made sure his seatbelt was buckled before getting in on the driver side and starting it up, getting out of there as quickly as possible.
He lit up a cigarette as he drove, some bullshit radio show playing through the speakers quietly. Over the noise of the wind and the radio, a small voice piped up. “Dad, I’m hungry.” He glanced over at his son, eyes lingering on his small form for a moment, and nodded silently. He tried to think about if they had anything at home, wracking his brain trying to think of the last time they went actual food shopping.
“We can get a pizza, Tubbo.” Yeah, a pizza. Kids love pizza. That works, right? No cooking necessary.
He just would have to remember to go food shopping on payday this time.
At least pick up some damn pizza rolls for the damn kid. He can’t be just eating Little Ceasars and McDonalds every day. He tilted his head to blow his smoke out of the crack in the window. He always wreaked of cigarette smoke, the whole apartment did, he’s sure Tubbo does too. Except, the kid refuses to shower with anything except honey-scented shampoo, and the smell sticks to his hair like no other. It follows him around like a cloud.
When Tubbo was four and he found out that bees like honey, he had found the kid pouring the bear-shaped container of honey on his head in an effort to attract them. It had taken so long to get the stickiness out of his hair. The only way to stop him from doing it again was to get the honey shampoo. At least it helped to cover up the smoke smell, he supposed.
Schlatt pulled up to the Little Caesars and put the car in park. He turned toward the small child in his passenger seat, a serious look in his eyes. “Tubbo, this is an important decision. What. Pizza. Topping. Do. You. Want.” He was putting on the theatrics, he knew he probably looked stupid, but it was all worth it at the grin that spread across the kid’s face. Despite the question, Schlatt knew what Tubbo would get. He always got the same exact pizza.
“Cheese and pepperoni!” Tubbo exclaimed, excitement overflowing into his reply. He was so predictable.
Schlatt grinned and nodded, chuckling quietly to himself as he grabbed some dollar bills out of his wallet. “Okay, I’ll be right back. Stay here, and don’t talk to anyone. Got it?” He was satisfied with the nod he got in return, and hopped out of the truck, locking it behind him.
He could see the car and the child from the inside of the pizza place, so he wasn’t that worried, but there was always that nagging voice in the back of his head whispering, What if something happens?
But the one that’s even worse is the voice that sometimes wishes it would happen. Wishes that his son would go away. That voice only showed up when things got really bad, and he always felt a pang of deep guilt inside of him whenever it did happen.
He shook his head, ordered the pizza, and tried to shut his thoughts down long enough to just get it and go. Since he still felt bad for being late to school, he got some breadsticks for the kid as a treat. After paying for the food, Schlatt practically ran out of the door with it to get back to the truck. He unlocked the door and climbed in, almost sighing in relief at the fact that his son was still there.
Of course he’s there, idiot, nobody’s going to take him. You’re being crazy. He set the pizza box on the center seat between them and buckled his seatbelt.
“Now, Tubbo, I need you to make sure the breadsticks don’t fall. Can you do that?” A determined nod was returned, and he gave a small smile in return before starting the truck and finally starting their drive home.
Finally home, Schlatt grabbed the pizza and breadsticks and made sure to remind Tubbo not to forget his backpack. He walked the two of them up to their apartment, balancing the pizza in one hand while unlocking the front door with the other. He pushed the door open and Tubbo ran in under his outstretched arm, the man not far behind. He locked the door once again behind him and went to set the pizza box down on the dining room table. If you could even call it that.
He had gotten the table from by the dumpsters in their complex and the chairs from a yard sale for ten dollars apiece. One of the legs on the table was short and constantly had a book under it so that the thing didn't lean so much and all the paint was chipping off of it. It wasn't the fanciest setup, but it worked. They were happy, right?
Tubbo wasted no time getting some paper plates for the both of them and opening the pizza box and the bag of breadsticks, taking some of each for himself. Schlatt followed suit, taking two pieces of pizza and a breadstick then closing the box so that flies couldn't get to it. He heard the TV turn on and the familiar sounds of some kids show started up.
He sighed, going to sit with his son on the couch. This is definitely not how he wanted to spend his evening, watching some random kid show that he didn't understand the point of.
Tubbo was now wrapped up in the blanket Schlatt had fallen asleep under earlier. An empty bottle of beer sat on the end table next to where the boy was sitting. He didn't seem to notice, however, and was munching on his pizza like nothing was wrong. Like he was perfectly content here. Is he really happy here?
Schlatt pulled out his phone once again, checking the time and realizing it was earlier than he thought. He wouldn't have to go in for his shift for another six hours. His phone once again buzzed with a notification, this time a text. As he looked down, the contact name of "Alexes".
He scowled internally and went to check the text. He was outside his apartment. Schlatt laid his head back and sighed dramatically, getting a confused look from his son in the process.
"Uncle Quackity is here, kid." This prompted the excitement to return to the young boy's face.
Seemingly on cue, a loud knock sounded at the door. Tubbo got up and ran to the door before Schlatt could say anything. Not a moment after, a short male entered the apartment, wrapped in a warm jacket and a beanie pulled over his hair.
"You're such a good guest, Alex," he deadpanned, looking over the man. A small grin graced his soft face, shrugging and closing the door behind him.
"I don't understand why you don't just give me a key, Schlatt. I come over enough and I know you love having me here." Alex had that teasing tone in his voice and a cheeky grin on his face that he knew pressed all of Schlatts buttons.
He could be such a cocky bitch sometimes. The worst part was that he was right. As much as he lashed out at him sometimes and as quickly he got mad at the short guy, Schlatt did like having him around. It was a sort of comfort at this point, a comfort that felt dangerous and made him feel things he felt he couldn't face.
Alex looked down at the small child still waiting at his feet, a small smile spreading across his face. "How are you, Tubbo?"
The boy looked up at his 'uncle', a grin plastered across his face. The freckled boy bounced on his feet a little. "We drawed in class today!" He exclaimed this like it was the most exciting thing that had ever happened to him. Like they didn't draw in class all the time.
The sight stirred something in Schlatts chest. How could something I made be so good? How did he turn out like that? God, he didn't know. He had been caught in his own thoughts until he was interrupted by his friend saying his name.
"What d'ya say, Schlatt?" When Alex was just met with a confused look at the question, he rolled his eyes. "You don't even listen to us. Tubbs asked to go to the park." Oh. Yeah. The park.
"Sure, whatever. That's fine. But you have to finish your lunch first." The second sentence was aimed at his son, who nodded with a sure look on his face. Apparently, Alex took it as an invitation to go into the dining room, where the warm smell of pizza still wafted out. He grabbed a plate and some food.
"Did you pay for that pizza?" Schlatt snapped, a frown apparent on his face.
"Aw, don't whine. I'll find a way to pay you back, Schlatt," he replied with a wink. The tall man scoffed and shook his head, ignoring the comment. He didn't care for his 'jokes' one bit, but Alex insisted it was just another one of his charms. Yeah, right. The two men and child sat on the couch as they finished lunch, Tubbo kicking his legs with excitement and watching whatever show he had put on.
Finally, they all finished and threw their plates away. Tubbo grabbed his jacket and pulled his shoes on and ran to his room to grab a toy to bring with him. He was a little ball of energy, excited to go see other kids even after being at school all day. Schlatt lit a cigarette and led the three out the door, pulling his jacket tighter and locking the door before they finally started their walk to the park.