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Phil has four sons, but he also has Tubbo, Niki, and Eret. They're all good kids. Had a bit of a rough start. Tubbo is adopted, just like Tommy and Techno and Wilbur and Ranboo. The rest of them are just different enough that Phil wouldn't be surprised if they were adopted, too, but none of them knew for sure.
Their dad isn't a bad man by any stretch. That's not why Phil has taken on a second fatherly figure to them at all. He's just... a single dad, trying to deal with a nasty divorce, and wasn't fortunate enough to find a stable like Phil. He's out a lot, working and trying to keep food on the table. Phil could never fault him for that, and neither could any of his kids.
In fact, they adored him. On the rare weekends that he's home, Tommy doesn't hear from Tubbo at all. As soon as he's back to work, Tubbo starts telling everyone all about the wonderful weekend he spent with his family. His whole family.
But... how hard he works does put a little pressure on the family, especially the older members. Tubbo has been mostly shielded from it, only having to suffer the disappointment and loneliness of Phil needing to step in when everyone else was busy. But everyone else? They've been trying to hold down jobs almost as long as Phil has known them, balancing school and work to try and make everything fit.
Which brings Phil to where he is now.
Eret is standing on his doorstep at 4am, looking beyond exhausted. Phil's heart aches because Eret is young, far too young for his troubles, and shouldn't ever look like this.
"Hi, Phil," he says tiredly, shoulders hunched forward and looking like a much smaller version of himself. "Do you mind if I come in?"
"Of course not," Phil says quickly, stepping to the side. "You know you're always welcome here."
Eret ducks his head gratefully, stepping inside. He practically collapses on Phil's couch, and Phil has to resist the urge to hover anxiously like he does with Ranboo. Like he does with Techno and Wilbur and Tommy because even though Eret isn't his kid, he's still his kid.
Phil eventually settles on coming over and hovering only slightly . "You feelin' alright, mate?" Phil asks, leaning on the back of the couch.
Eret groans, running his hands down his face. "I'm exhausted , honestly." He chuckles. "I just... couldn't go back home yet. The work feels neverending sometimes, and I just.. needed a minute."
Phil frowns, eyebrows scrunching together. His face was definitely going to start hurting based on how often he'd been doing that recently. "We don't have a spare room anymore, but you can crash here if you need?"
"If it wouldn't be any trouble," Eret says, which is his way of saying please. I can't deal with anything else right now .
"'Course. You want some hot chocolate?"
"Yeah... yeah, I would."
So Phil moves to the kitchen, and he begins making hot chocolate. It'd been his go-to for calming exhausted, stressed kids ever since he brought Techno home. It'd stuck with him over the years, and he'd always been thankful for that. From his place in the kitchen, Phil can see Eret sit up, sluggish and slow. Seeing him like this makes something deep in Phil hurt.
Eret was oh so young. He was barely twenty, barely older than his own eldest son, who had a knack for working himself to the bone for school and work and practice and anything that expected even the slightest bit from him. Eret had picked up a lot of slack for his family, and Phil was incredibly proud of him, but he was also so worried. He knew he didn't have the time to address these problems in Eret, but after one too many hospital visits because his own kids couldn't draw their own limits, he couldn't help but worry.
When Phil moves back to the living room, two mugs of steaming hot chocolate in each hand, Eret was already dozing lightly. Gently, Phil handed over the cup, which Eret was awake enough to take, and quietly warned him that it was still hot. Eret muttered out a small thanks for the warning and began sipping on the warm drink after a few blows. Phil sat down next to him, hoping and praying that Eret knew he wasn't alone in this moment.
When Eret was about halfway through his drink, he bent down to rest his head on Phil's shoulder. Most of Eret's weight acme with his head and Phil had to shift to stay upright.
"You done?" Phil asked, and Eret noded and handed off the cup. Phil set them aside on a table; he could deal with them later.
"Alright, let's get you to bed," Phil says, hoisting Eret up. Eret swayed a little, gripping onto Phil's shelve tightly. He shook his head. Phil's eyebrows bunched together.
"Lightheaded?" Phil asks. Eret nods. "When'd you last drink some water?"
"I dunno... twenty hours ago? Maybe? I'm not sure..." Eret brought a hand up, rubbing his eye with the heel of his palm.
"You need to drink more water, mate."
"I know, Phil... I know."
Phil sighed. "Alright. You're going to bed, and then I'm going to make you chug something in the morning. That work?" It wasn't a question, it never was, but Eret nodded along anyway.
Phil made the pullout bed in his office, dedicated to long work nights, gathering pillows and blankets and piling them onto the mattress. He had scored and found a pullout that was nearly as comfortable as an actual bed, so he didn't feel too bad about having Eret sleep here instead of a proper bed upstairs. Eret would've insisted on sleeping here anyway, and his chances of being woken up at some stupid time in the morning by Tommy was decreased dramatically by staying in the office. Everyone knew not to peek their head in when the door was closed.
Phil pulled out some spare clothes, passing them along to Eret before deciding that he seemed set for the night.
" Sleep ," Phil asked, pressing to finger to Eret's forehead, which made them both laugh.
"I will! I will! No need for violence!" Eret laughed, swatting Phil's hand away. "Hey, Phil...? Thank you."
"Any time, mate." And Phil meant it. Any time . With the house settled, everyone finding their own place where they fit in, any time. Phil would be there for any one of these dumb kids who needed his help. He and Eret ended the night with a slight chuckle, but Phil hopes that he really knows. Any time. Any time at all.
By the time Eret wakes up, it's nearly noon. He groans, fishing out his phone and huffing in annoyance upon finding out it had died overnight. A splitting headache crashes down on Eret, making him groan and press his hands to his temple.
At this time, a soft knock comes from the door, and it creaks open to reveal Phil peaking in with a glass of water in hand.
"Good morning," Phil chuckles, and Eret mirrors it.
"G'morning, Phil," Eret sighs. He leans back, propping himself up to take the glass of water. Suddenly he remembers something, and his body goes tense. "Oh my fucking god, I'm late for work--"
"I called you in," Phil quickly says. Something in him twists uncomfortably by how distraught Eret looked at that news. "Look, you showed up exhausted at my house at 4 am; I wasn't about to turn around a let you leave again at 6. Drink your water."
Eret huffs out a small sigh, pressing the glass to his lips and nearly downing the whole cup.
"What do you say?"
"Thank you, Phil."
"Atta boy," Phil chuckles, sitting down next to Eret on the pullout mattress. "You were exhausted; I was going to let you sleep until you woke up."
Eret sighs, running his hand through his hair, which had gotten far too long and tangly recently. "I've just been... trying to make things better, Phil."
"I know, mate." A quiet moment passes between them. "Come on, I've got some banana bread you can eat."
"Ah, stress baking, I see," Eret chuckles, striding out of the room behind Phil. Tommy yells a loud greeting, darting into the backyard with something clutched in his arms.
" You try raising my kids," Phil jokes back, taking out a (still warm) loaf of bread and cutting Eret a few thick slices.
Eret eats them, savoring the taste and partially zoning out. It's been a long while since he's properly slept in. A break from the aches and pains that comes from waking up to an alarm is nice.
"You know, if you and Niki ever worked together, you guys would be dangerous, Phil," Eret sighs, finishing off the last of his bread. Phil just lasts warmly and hands him another cup of water.
"How... how have you guys been doing, by the way?" Phil asks.
Eret thinks. He knows Phil is talking about their money situation, his long work hours to keep everyone else from having to do the same. He knows Phil is asking, are you alright? Do you need help?
"We've... we've been managing," Eret says. "Just a bit of a rough patch. This stupid fucking court trial should be over soon, and things will get so much better. Lawers are fucking expensive ."
Phil sighs, nodding. "I'd still be happy to testify for you guys."
"Nah-" Eret shakes his head "-closing arguments are scheduled for early next week. Everybody's getting pretty tired of mom's arguments, even the judge. Things... things will get better. I know they will."
Phil sighs warmly. He only has four sons, but he sees so much of his own family scattered around Eret's. "Alright, alright. I believe you. Come over for dinner some time, alright? Save yourself some work. Talk about reducing hours as soon as you can, alright? I've still gotta parent you, even from across the street."
Eret laughs, brightly agreeing to Phil's terms. He gets ready for the day, showering, saying hello to everyone around the house, and downing another glass of water. Soon he's ready to head back home, charge his phone, and hopefully get some school work done.
"Drink more water!" Phil calls out the door. "If you don't, I'll know and come kick your ass!"
"I will, I will!" Eret calls, cupping his hand around his mouth even though he's only traveling a few houses away. Phil watches from his door until Eret disappears inside his house, only then letting himself slink back inside and start cleaning up.
Yes, Phil only has four official kids. That doesn't make Eret, Niki, or Tubbo any less his , though. Whenever they need help, he'll be there. No matter what.