Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Tommy sat staring at his computer, a million thoughts racing through his mind and not a single one sticking.

He had an essay due in about an hour and a half. He had only started studying the materials yesterday, and he only managed to work through about five pages out of the total forty three. He was fairly sure he wasn’t going to be able to read through the other 38 pages and then write a three paragraph essay on it before the time was up.

Tears stung the back of his eyes as he slouched forwards, dragging a hand over his face. He didn’t fucking get it. The material wasn’t even that hard. It was practically review from what he learned last year, and what he had read he understood perfectly. So why couldn’t he just focus and get it done? Why couldn’t he just do the work when its first assigned instead of putting it off to the last couple of hours?

Normally he could force himself to get it done out of sheer will and a couple of cokes and monster energy drinks, but for some reason he had been hitting a wall lately. He’s pretty sure its because of that one bad test he completed last week. It had sucked all motivation out of him.

And it wasn’t even his fault! He had learned the materials and understood it pretty well, it’s just that he managed to forget the one fucking formula he needed that managed to mess up every single question. And now not only was he behind due to having to re-take the test, his grade had dropped an entire letter due to the shitty mark and the points deducted for doing it so late.

And now here he was having not even learned the next unit and probably going to have to do it late again, which would deduct more points and drop his grade even more.

What was even the fucking point? He was doomed either way. He’d never be able to do it in time. If he put it off until tomorrow maybe he’d be in more of a productive mood and could actually retain the information enough to force out a half decent essay. Sure it would be late, but would it be better than attempting to learn the information when he knew none of it would actually stick?

Fuck. This was his personal hell. His parents were going to skin him alive. They had been on his back hard about raising his grades again after his one failed test, and his Mom had offered to get him a tutor but she had used that tone of voice that indicated that he really should not ask for one because he should be smart enough not to need one. If he failed again he didn’t know what they were going to do.

He wished that fear had kicked in earlier this week. That would have been helpful when he was putting off learning the new information. It wasn’t even like he had been so busy he couldn’t do it. He was pretty much a full-time streamer and YouTuber, but he had taken the past few weeks off in order to focus a bit more on school.

And even then he spent most of his time scrolling through social media, talking to his friends, and brainstorming more ideas for his channel. It was bullshit. He couldn’t manage to focus long enough to read through forty pages of work, and yet he can spend hours studying trends in the algorithm and brainstorming boring ideas. It’s just that those sorts of things were actually interesting, and he didn’t have a grade dependant on them.

He glanced at the clock. He now had an hour before the due date. He was screwed. His parents were going to be so mad and his teacher was going to be disappointed. His grade was going to drop even further which meant he had to work even harder on the next few units. He would probably have to take a longer break from streaming, which meant not only thousands of fans were going to be upset but the people whose own lore depended on him were going to be inconvenienced. Shit. This sucked.

He clicked open his textbook again, staring at the words and blinking hard. He could read the words. He was reading the words. He understood their meaning separately, all simple terms he had learned multiple times over the years. But they weren’t connecting. His mind kept drifting towards nothing in particular and every time he pulled it back the words looked completely foreign and the meaning just didn’t connect.

He slammed his head down onto the desk. He wasn’t going to learn anything at this rate. The clock kept ticking down towards the deadline and he knew he wasn’t going to complete it anyways but he couldn’t help but feel like a failure either way.

He finds himself pulling up his discord despite knowing it was a bad idea. He just couldn’t focus and he needed something else to help him. Normally music helped, but when he tried that earlier it kept distracting him even worse. It was a constant fight of too little versus too much. Maybe if he called someone it would help. Just to share the silence with someone else. That way he could have something else to focus on to help center his brain a bit more.

He found himself checking Wilbur first, just like he always did. Wilbur always was willing to sit in a voice call with him while doing work. They didn’t even need to talk half the time, just sit in silence together doing their own separate thing. It helped a lot when Tommy was editing. He’d sit and work on his stuff while Wilbur either strummed his guitar or played a game.

The call was ignored and Tommy frowned. Wilbur’s icon said he was online. Maybe he just missed it. Tommy clicked call again, this time Wilbur picked up.

“Eyy!” He called out, mood improving tenfold just being in the same call with the older man. “Wilbur!”

“What do you want Tommy?” Wilbur asked with a sigh. Tommy’s own smile fell a bit at the dull tone, recognizing that Wilbur seemed in a bad mood. He decided to tread a bit lightly.

“Just wanted to check in on my best friend,” Tommy said, softening his voice a bit just in case Wilbur had a headache. Despite what everyone said he could be a considerate friend sometimes. “See how he was doing, chill out for a bit, talk about girls, you know the usual.”

“Jesus,” Wilbur sighed. “Look Tommy this is a really bad time, I don’t really have the energy to deal with you right now.”

Okay, that stung. Just a little bit. Wilbur was in a worse mood than he thought, and Tommy knew he probably shouldn’t push it but his eyes were kind of burning at that comment and his first reaction to any kind of hurt is to deflect.

“Don’t be a prick,” He said, forcing a laugh. “Everyone loved dealing with me. Don’t pretend otherwise, I am the best.”

“Not today Tommy,” Wilbur said firmly, and Tommy blinked, his heart stuttering slightly at the annoyed tone. He hated when Wilbur got genuinely upset with him. Normally they were both fairly secure in it being a joke they played off for the stream. But there were no streams on right now. No thousands of people watching them. It was just the two of them. “I can’t deal with you today. Go annoy someone else.”

Tommy opened his mouth to say something, anything to deflect and push away the sharp stinging feeling those words inspired in him, but next thing he knew Wilbur was hanging up on him, leaving him alone.

Well fuck. He definitely wasn’t getting any work done now.

He shut off his entire computer, scrubbing miserably at his eyes and willing himself not to just burst into tears right then and there. Wilbur was allowed to be frustrated with him. Tommy understood that Wilbur was probably having a bad day and took it out on him unfairly. But that didn’t help his racing thoughts very much.

He stormed to his bed, crawling under the covers and snuggling into them, curling up into a ball and shoving his head into his pillow so he could pretend he wasn’t crying. He definitely wasn’t feeling the fabric under his cheeks start to get wet. He wasn’t going to cry over this.

He had been told many many times that he was too much. Too loud, too annoying, too energetic. Teachers told him that, random people online told him that, his parents told him that. Tommy was fucking used to it at this point. He had accepted it, embraced it almost. His entire persona involved him being as annoying as possible, because being annoying was okay if it was who he was as a person. And part of accepting that was accepting that some people simply wouldn’t like him because of that.

It never really hurt him to hear it anymore, he had to develop a thick skin with the job that he had. Normally those insults bounced off of him like nothing. But hearing it from Wilbur, even knowing the other man probably didn’t mean it, hurt.

How many times had his parents told him that he needed to calm down? That it was okay if he was a lot on stream because it got him money but he needed to tone it down in real life? How many times had they yelled at him just to shut up and that he needed to be quiet in order for them to tolerate him?

If his parents, who were supposed to love him unconditionally no matter what, told him that constantly, then maybe it was true? If Wilbur, who had endless patience and mostly approached Tommy with a fondness that never went away, said the same thing, maybe he was right. God, Tommy was too much.

He was loud and annoying and no one could deal with him and he couldn’t even make up for it by being able to do one stupid easy assignment in school. Sure he had millions of followers on YouTube and twitch, but did that make it better? What point was being popular online if no one else could stand you? He knew rationally that he was overreacting, but he was tired, stressed, and he just couldn't handle it.

He grabbed his phone, opening it up and clicking on Tubbo’s profile. He hesitated. Tubbo had never let him down. His best friend had always been there to talk to Tommy and cheer him up when he was feeling down. Not once had Tubbo ever made him feel like too much. But maybe he should. It was late after all, why should he force Tubbo to deal with him? Tubbo had much better things to focus on.

A check of discord shows him in a call with Ranboo anyways. Tommy could theoretically join, being relatively good friends with them both, but the thought left a bad taste in his mouth. Wilbur said to go annoy someone else. Tommy didn’t feel like being annoying. They shouldn’t have to deal with his annoying ass just because he was a little sad about Wilbur being a bit mean to him.

Just because Tubbo puts up with him without complaint doesn’t mean Tommy should abuse that privilege. There was always a line. Somehow, he had finally managed to cross it with Wilbur, and the thought of doing the same with Tubbo petrified him. So he clicked off the contact and put the phone down.

He turned onto his back, letting out a vague sound of frustration as he stared up at the roof. He wanted to sleep. If he went to bed now he could get up early to do his work and try to salvage things on that point. If he went to sleep he couldn’t think about the swirling hate in his gut and the approaching nervousness that surrounded his parents’ reaction to his bad grades.

He closed his eyes, trying to even out his breathing and clear his mind, but there was too much going on, too many thoughts swirling around and poisoning his mind. Every time he managed to somewhat clear it from thoughts of school, his parents, and Wilbur, an intrusive thought would pop into his mind, reminding him of the other things that he could do to silence himself.

And wasn’t that dandy. He was doing a fairly good job at ignoring those for a while. But now the temptation was back. The temptation to scratch his arms until they were red and sore, to go to the bathroom and disassemble a blade, to find the sleep aid tucked on his night stand and take just enough to put him asleep.

He shook his head, turning once again and staring ahead. A glance at his clock told him another hour had passed. The due date had come and gone. Tears sting his eyes again.

He tosses and turns for another hour, frustration building up in his chest with every failed attempt to sleep. Sometimes it was because his mind wouldn’t shut up, other times it was because every position he got in felt wrong, once or twice it was because he was too warm or cold. It seemed like the world was out to get him.

Against his will, the tears gathered up again as he let out a frustrated growl, slamming his hand into the mattress. He lets out a frustrated sob and reached up to pull at his hair, closing his eyes and gritting his teeth. It was getting a bit hard to breathe. Everything was so overwhelming and the frustration and anger bubbling in his chest was suffocating him.

He couldn’t focus on anything other than the constant swirl of thoughts. His breath was stuck in his throat and he couldn’t do anything except sob pathetically. He couldn’t make his friends happy. Couldn’t make his parents happy. Couldn’t get his work done. Couldn’t even fucking fall asleep properly.

There was a soft thud as someone pushed his door open, and Tommy froze in fear, turning his head slightly and opening his mouth to try and force apologies for waking his parents up. Only his parents weren’t there. The door had opened halfway and he could hear the soft padding of footsteps make their way to his bed. A second later Betty was jumping up next to him, staring him down with sad eyes.

“Hey Betty,” Tommy choked out, sobs continuing to fall out of his mouth. He couldn’t stop them at this point, and he shakily reached a heavy hand to pet his dog.

Betty let out a soft huff, walking towards him. He thought she would curl up to the side of him like she normally did when she came to sleep with him, but instead she made a beeline for him, feet climbing up his ribs and forcing a soft wheeze of air out of him.

“What the fuck?” He managed to get out as Betty laid down, settling heavily on his chest, her head resting on his sternum. She was looking at him with soft eyes, and he stared back at her in shock.

Slowly, he noticed his breathing calming down, his sobs tapering off as he wrapped his arms around her, sifting his fingers through her fur. She didn’t move, simply resting heavily on his chest, a comforting weight that helped ground him.

His eyes slipped shut, exhaustion hitting him full force. He was going to have a headache with how hard he was crying, but that was fine. Betty hadn’t moved in the least bit, her eyes slipping shut. Her breathing had evened out a bit, but he didn’t think she was asleep. Every time he shifted slightly her eyes would crack open, staring at him with something he could almost hope was worry.

Once he had fully calmed down, his heart and breathing returning to normal, she sat up. He missed the warmth she gave, but she only shifted to get off of him, immediately curling up into his side instead. He turned to the side in order to throw an arm around her, tucking his head against her back for a second before leaning back, getting somewhat comfortable.

He was asleep within minutes.

______________________________________

Betty woke him up around three hours earlier than he wanted to, pawing at him and whining softly. He rolled out of bed, rubbing his eyes as he walked downstairs to let her out into the backyard. She knocked her head lightly against his leg before taking off. He smiled fondly, shaking his head as he recalled what happened last night. She was a weird dog.

He turned around, walking to the kitchen to get some food. He faltered slightly when he saw his mother there, reading her paper at the table. She smiled when she saw him and he relaxed a bit, thinking this might be one of the good days.

“Good morning Toms,” She greeting. “How’d you sleep?”

“Alright,” He lied, walking over to the cabinet and pulling out a bowl. Cereal was his best bet to getting a productive morning. “Do we have anything today?”

“We never do,” His mother chuckled with amusement. She wasn’t lying, their schedules had been fairly empty lately. “How is school going? Are you caught up yet?”

He froze, hand hovering over the milk in the fridge as his mind started to whirl. He had been hoping to avoid that question.

He should lie. Lying would be the easier way out, to smile and tell her he was doing a lot better and his mark should be improving soon. She would smile and ruffle his hair and tell him that she was proud. She would let him go without complaint and he could escape to his room without a mishap.

But lying never worked out. They would see his grade dropping, see the big fat late next to his assignment grade when it came out. They would know he was lying and they would be pissed. Was it better to push off that anger to a later date? Or just deal with it now? If he lied they would be angry over that as well as the bad grade. But if they yelled at him now he would probably lose all motivation to actually do his work.

“Toms?” His mother asked, her voice a bit harder. Shit. How long had he been standing there with his hand halfway reaching towards the milk? “Everything okay?”

“Yeah!” He said, plastering on a smile and turning around, holding the milk in his hands that were shaking slightly for no reason. His smile almost faltered at the look on his mother’s face, but luckily he had enough practice holding it to not even flinch in the least bit. “School's alright. I have the hand in my latest essay a bit late, just because I felt like I needed another day to edit and make sure it was a real show stopper.”

“I thought that you lose marks when you hand things in late?” Her voice was completely cold now, no trace of the warm it had earlier. Tommy, like the coward he was, turned his back to her and poured the milk into the cereal to avoid her pointed glare.

“Well yeah,” He tried to brush it off. “But it’s only like five percent, and if I make sure I get a 100 on it then it won’t be that much of a deal, you know? Works out.”

“A 100 is better than a 95,” His mother said lowly. “And you know that your teachers have been on you about handing in work late.”

“I know, I’m sorry I just-“ He tries, but she cuts him off before he can say anything else.

“After your last mark I would have thought you’d put in some effort, but I can see that’s clearly not the case,” Her voice was like a knife, and he couldn’t help the sharp intake of breath he took. He was trying. He was trying so hard. It wasn’t his fault it was difficult. “Do you need a tutor? I thought you were smarter than that but clearly you’re struggling and need some help. This can't keep happening.”

“Sorry,” His voice was small, and he stared at his cereal he no longer had an appetite for. “I’ll try harder.”

“It’s too late for trying harder,” She snaps. “You should have tried harder the first time. Obviously you don’t care enough about your grades, or else you would have already fixed this. I don’t understand Tom, this is the one thing we ask of you. We put up with you, and all we ask is that you keep your grades up. And you can’t even do that for us? It’s not that hard if you’d just put a little effort into it instead of blowing it off all the time.”

He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t think he’d be able to even if he wanted to. Tears are gathering in his eyes and he blinks them away. She’d only laugh if she saw them.

“Look at me when I’m talking to you Tommy,” Her voice is firm, and he turns quickly, wiping his face of any emotion and willing himself to stop shaking so bad. She was angry, he could see it in every line of her face. “I expect that essay to be done and handed in by dinner, as well as a written email to your teacher apologizing for your slacking and promising to be better. Because you will be better, am I clear?”

“Yes,” He forces out through gritted teeth, avoiding looking into her eyes by instead staring at the spot right beside her head. His nails dug into his palms and he took steadying breaths.

“Good,” She nodded, picking up her paper again. He hadn’t noticed her put it down. “Leave the cereal here. You can come down and eat once your work is done.”

His shoulders slouch, but he wasn’t expecting anything less. Not being able to eat until he was done his work wasn’t something rare in the house. He just nodded and moved to the back door, opening it back up for Betty, who walked right to her food dish. He wasn’t sure why that hurt. He was being stupid again.

He slipped into his room, thankfully avoiding his father who left his room a minute after Tommy escaped to his. He doesn’t think he’d be able to deal with his father’s anger. Sometimes he preferred it over his mother’s disappointment, but both at once sucked.

He slipped into his chair, powering on his computer before leaning over and grabbing his phone. He scrolled through a few notifications, doing his few obligatory tweets and replying to a few people's discord notifications asking him things about streaming and videos. He finishes replying to Larry about his most recent video before clicking onto Wilbur’s contact. Normally he messaged Wilbur good morning every day, reminding his friend to take his meds and eat something. But he didn’t really feel up to it today.

He still had a bad taste in his mouth from last night, and paired with his mothers’ words the thought of interacting with the older man at the moment made him want to cry. Besides, he knew Phil checked up on Wilbur the same amount, so he didn’t have to worry much about the other man missing out on taking care of himself. And he was fairly self-sufficient most days, texting him the reminders were more for Tommy’s peace of mind.

He clicked out of Wilbur’s contact and instead sent his normal message to Tubbo. Wilbur would only be slightly confused if Tommy never messaged him good morning, but Tubbo would be downright concerned if Tommy didn’t without giving a prior excuse. Clingy bitch.

He puts down his phone, clicking onto his schoolwork once again. There was a bad taste in his mouth, and he could already feel himself start to zone out just staring at the words, but he grit his teeth and put his mind to it.

The next two hours were gruesome. It consisted of him forcing himself through around ten minutes of reading and note-taking before having to stop, checking his phone and scrolling aimlessly through social media for a couple minutes before the guilt settled in again and he forced himself back to work.

Every minute felt like his mind was stretching apart and the words were pretty much foreign to him, but he had a basic understanding of it. Tubbo and him were casually talking like they already did, and the conversation helped ground him a bit. He stared at Wilbur’s contact every now and then, wondering if Wilbur would message him once it became clear Tommy wouldn’t.

Around noon he started to feel a bit lightheaded, the lack of food and water getting to him. He took his time standing up, feeling his blood pressure drop as the world swirled a bit around him. He shook his head and stumbled over to his bed, kneeling down and reaching under to pull out a small box he kept under there for these reasons.

It held a few chocolate bars, a handful of energy bars, and a few small bottles of water as well as a single can of probably flat coke.

He pulled out an energy bar and a water, chugging the liquid quickly before opening up the snack and devouring it. It wasn’t the best, slightly stale and tasteless, but it would work. He hadn’t eaten breakfast and hadn’t even started the essay yet, so lunch was out of the question. He could only hope for dinner.

He gets right back to his work, feeling a bit more productive with something in his stomach. He finishes the reading in another hour and a half, the time ticking down slightly as the anxiety pooled in his gut. They normally had dinner at 6, which meant he had just over four hours to actually complete the essay. That was plenty of time.

He decided he should take a quick break, just to take his mind off of things and give it a rest before starting things again. He sets a timer on his phone for thirty minutes before booting up Minecraft, opening up a new world. He debated calling someone just to pass the time, but figured he would only get distracted and ignore his alarm that way. So he puts on some music and starts speed running to pass the time.

The alarm rings. He had already made it into the nether and was halfway through some pigling trades. He couldn’t stop now, especially since he was doing so good on time. He’d just go for a bit longer, wait until he had all the eyes of ender then pause the timer and start up again later. It would be bad to just leave it when he was doing so well.

An hour passed and he had defeated the ender dragon, homework forgotten before he looked at the time.

Shit. This happened every time. It was already three thirty. That wasn’t that much time to write and edit an entire essay.

He opened up his work, looking at his notes and quickly jotting down some ideas about the prompt. It wasn’t that hard; he could think of a few ideas right off the bat that he could easily expand on. He was really good with essays, writing being his strong suit. Despite popular opinion, he had a way with words.

An hour later and he was mostly finished planning, a solid outline written out and ready to be turned into an essay. It wasn’t the best; Tommy was feeling a bit panicky the closer the clock ticked towards dinner. His intro was rushed, but words were a bit hard and his thoughts were way too complicated. Normally he had no issues sorting through his jumbled thoughts and arranging them into something more coherent, but the stress was starting to get to him.

Thirty minutes before dinner Tommy was finished the last paragraph, and he was close to tears. It was a really shitty essay. Nowhere near his best quality of work, and no matter how many times he re-read it, he couldn’t find a way to make it make more sense. The sentences were too long, more a stream of thought than a well-planned out point.

It would get him a decent mark, much better than his last one, but nowhere near close enough to pull his mark back up to an A+. He’d need to do really good on his next one as well, and while it certainly was possible, his parents had never really been ones for seeing that far into the future.

He edits it the best he can, but the next thing he knows someone is knocking on his door.

He freezes, fear seizing him up. He forces himself to relax, to put on his acting face and hope for the best.

“Come in,” He calls out. He turns, watching as his Mother walked in, a smile on her face.

“Done your essay honey?” She asks, her voice soft but he can hear the underlying threat. “It’s dinner.”

“Yeah, it’s done,” Tommy says with a bitter taste of his mouth. He still wasn’t happy with it but there wasn’t much else to do. He clicked the button to submit, a mocking message asking if he was sure. He clicks yes despite feeling sick to his stomach. “There, handed in.”

“Good job,” She walks forwards, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “Hopefully that’s the last late essay. And since you had so much extra time I’m sure it was some of your best work.”

“Yeah,” He said, leg bouncing wildly. He was dead. They were going to kill him when they saw the bad grade he was going to get. He started mentally planning out his funeral.

“Come down for dinner, you know your father doesn’t like to be kept waiting,” His mother said, turning and walking out of the room. Tommy slouched a bit, tears stinging his eyes for a second before he forced himself to be composed. A sharp ding from his phone startled him, and he pulled it out and stared at the screen.

Wilbur Soot: Do you want to stream with me tonight? Wanted to hop in the Hybrid SMP with Niki and Jack.

No apologies for his actions last night, no excuses. He thinks it’s a bit of a white flag, but he can’t know for sure.

Tommyinnit: Of course big man. I’m just eating but I can be ready in an hour.

Wilbur sends back a thumbs up, and Tommy shoves his phone into his back pocket. He thinks it might be his last time streaming for a bit, so he might as well make the best of it.

________________________________________

Tommy’s teacher last year took almost two months to mark a single essay. It was one of the most frustrating things Tommy had ever had to deal with.

Tommy’s teacher this year marked his essays within a day, and he thinks he might commit manslaughter over it.

His day started pretty well. His stream the night before had gone well, Wilbur not seeming even the least bit mad at him like he was before. He spent most of the time fooling around with Jack, annoying and inconveniencing Wilbur and Niki in a playful way. The viewers loved it, and Tommy had a blast. It was a good distraction.

And after the stream Wilbur and him hopped into a VC and talked for an hour about Wilbur’s latest song. Tommy went to sleep early, content in a decent day and knowing his friendship with Wilbur wasn’t that bad. Wilbur had been tired the entire night, and so Tommy just figured he was stressed about something lately. If the older man wanted to talk about it he would, but for now Tommy would give him his space.

He woke up to his door being slammed open and staring at his dad’s angry face.

“A fucking B+?” His dad asked, and Tommy blinked the last bits of sleep away, wide awake as he scrambled up.

“What?” He said elegantly, hand reaching over and discreetly grabbing his phone. His father had sometimes taken to grabbing things near him and smashing them when angry. Tommy thinks that was worst than his father hitting him. Not that his father ever did, although there were a few close calls. He always managed to pull himself back before going that far.

“A B+ isn’t raising your mark, that’s tanking it actually,” His father hissed, grabbing him and pulling him out of bed so he’s standing. Tommy swayed slightly, still a bit disorientated and now being flooded with adrenaline.

“We asked one thing of you,” His mother speaks, and he blinks, not having noticed her in the doorway. There are tears in her eyes. “We give you so much Tommy. A house, food, time to do all that ridiculous streaming, and you can’t even keep up your grades for us?”

“I’m sorry,” He said, heart pounding as his eyes flickered around the room. He felt trapped. His father to one side and his mother to the other. There was no way out. Everything was happening too fast. “I’ll do better I promise-“

“It’s too late for that,” His father snaps. “You said that last time and nothing came of it. You’re blatantly lying to us. After everything we do for you too. Enough is enough.”

His heart spikes. That doesn’t sound good. It’s two bad grades, and a B+ wasn’t even that bad. He knew people who would kill for that grade. And he had a consistent A+ in all of his other classes. He didn’t understand why it was such a big deal.

“You have until noon to get out of my house,” His father said, and Tommy’s mind completely blanks.

“What?”

“I don’t want an ungrateful brat taking up my space,” His father hissed. “So you have until noon and then I want you gone. You can come back when your grade improves. Until then, we want nothing to do with you.”

He was getting kicked out. Honest to god kicked out. He didn’t understand, he didn’t get it. It was two bad grades out of a long list of good ones.

He turns to look at his mother, who refused to look at him. There was no guilt or reluctance on her face. He turns back to his father, who looked the same.

“You can’t be serious,” He whispered, panic starting to build. “You can’t- no, you can’t do this.”

“We can and we have,” His mother speaks up, her voice firm. “You had many warnings Tommy. Enough is enough.”

The warnings had always been no food or being grounded for a month. Never getting tossed to the street in three hours.

“Be out of the house by noon, or else I will force you to be,” His father says lowly, and Tommy knows a threat when he hears one. His father leaves the room with a huff. His mother lingers for a long moment.

“We didn’t want this,” She said softly, and he can’t look at her. He’s staring at his wall attempting to process what was going on. “We truly didn’t. But this can’t go unpunished Tommy. And it won't’ be forever. You need to raise your grade, and then we can have you back. You understand don’t you? This is important.”

Tommy doesn’t say anything. He feels angry, he feels terrified, he’s numb. He doesn’t need good grades. He knows he’ll be streaming for most of his life. And he’s good at it. School is just a backup he doesn’t even need. And now he was being kicked out over it.

“We still love you,” His mother is closer, and she grabs his face, tilting it to meet her eyes. His own are blurry. Hers are painfully clear. “That will never change. But sometimes you need to work for love. You have to earn it.”

They stand in silence, Tommy’s mind whirling and his mother just staring at him with those stupidly dead eyes.

“Goodbye Tommy,” She said finally, letting him go and turning to exit the room. He’s left horribly alone.

Mechanically, he starts packing. He doesn’t really process what just happened, moving entirely on auto piolet. He doesn’t have his suitcase in his room, so he grabs his duffle bag instead. He fits in around four changes of clothes, as well as an extra hoodie. Then goes in the basic hygienical needs, as well as his little box full of food and water. He slips his computer and chargers in last, mind racing to see if he forgot anything. A glance at the clock tells him he only had thirty minutes left.

He spends them sitting on his bed, processing everything that happened.

He’s kicked out. His parents are kicking him from the house until his grades rise, which would be hard to do while living on the streets. He has enough money to get a hotel he thinks. He had a couple hundred in cash already, and his bank account had no shortage of money in it. He could get a hotel.

There are five minutes till noon and he takes his bag and walks from his room. His parents are nowhere to be seen. He stops in the kitchen and sneaks a few more bags of food and bottles of water into his bag. He waits until noon to see if his parents will come to see him off. No one does.

He leaves the house and slips the door shut softly behind him, reaching down to give Walter and Betty a hug before going. He’ll miss them the most.

Betty tries to follow him out the door, whining and pawing at his leg, trying to nudge him back into the house. He wants to give in, wants to pretend he was just going for a walk and that he'd be back later. But he can't. He presses a kiss to her head and takes a deep breath before closing the door. he can hear her scratching it from the other side. He turns away.

Then he’s gone. The sky is dreary. There’s cloud coverage and he thinks that if it starts raining he might just lie down and accept death.

He should go to a hotel. He doesn’t want to be in a hotel. He doesn’t want to be on the streets either.

He’s pulling out his phone before he can think about it. His fingers automatically go to Wilbur’s contact and he’s pressing it before he can think. He wants his best friend. Even just hearing his voice might help the panic rising in his chest, and maybe Wilbur would be able to help him. Give him a place to stay even for just a night so that Tommy can sit and process everything that had happened.

The phone rings and it finally picks up.

“You have possibly the worst fucking timing ever,” Wilbur’s voice was low and it reminds him of his mother's too much. He flinches and even though Wilbur can’t see it Tommy plasters a fake smile on his face and forces himself to sound happy.

“Wilbur my man,” He said cheerfully. “Hello to you to.”

“Tommy I don’t have time for this,” Wilbur sounds stressed, Tommy gets it. He doesn’t want to be a bother but Wilbur said he could come to him whenever right? Especially during an emergency. This felt like an emergency.

“I know, I know, I just really need-“ Tommy starts, but Wilbur cuts him off.

“Look, I don’t know what you want but please go bother someone who has the time to deal with you,” Wilbur snaps, and Tommy stops walking right there in the middle of the sidewalk, the pain in his chest suddenly becoming unbearable as he processes what Wilbur was saying. “Some of us have actual things to do and I know you don’t realize it but my world doesn’t revolve around you Tommy.”

“Oh,” Tommy whispered, blinking back tears. “Okay. Sorry.”

He hangs up before Wilbur can say anything else, blinking away the tears and trying to calm his racing heart. He swipes under his eyes and lets out a shaky sigh.

He should call someone else. Phil would take him in, Jack didn’t live that far either. Hell, even Techno would give him advice on where to go from here.

But Tommy doesn’t think he’d be able to stand another rejection. Not today. Not after whatever that was.

Hotel it was.

__________________________________________________

The hotel room he got was shitty.

He hated it. It was the cheapest thing around and he knew he had the money for something better, but realistically he had no idea when he’d be allowed back home and he couldn’t really stream while out here so his income wasn’t as strong as it could be. Running out of money would suck.

It was livable though, and that’s what mattered. It had a small lumpy bed that gave him back pain, and he spent most nights staring at the ceiling unable to sleep shivering in the cold. He missed Betty coming in when he was upset and lying with him. He cried at nights more often than not.

There was a small kitchenette on the side, a simple microwave, kettle, and a minifridge. He had gone out on his second day and bought some basic food supplies. He had been living on noodle soup for the entire week that he had been living here. He thinks the people at the front counter are about a week away from calling the police on him. He’ll have to trade hotels soon to avoid suspicion.

He hadn’t been looking at his phone much these days. His entire focus is on school. His teacher was nice enough to give him a ton of extra credit work to complete to raise his mark, and it was a lot to do but he wanted to get back into his house as soon as he could.

He texts Tubbo every other day, highlighting school as the reason why he was so absent recently. Tubbo’s more than used to him sometimes needing to duck out to focus on other things, so his best friend doesn't worry that much. He thinks he’s a bit suspicious over the lack of facetime calls though. Neither of them mentions it though.

He’s talked to Dream often too, apologizing for his absence and swearing that he was trying to get back as soon as he could. The older man was more than understanding, reassuring Tommy that he understood taking breaks and that Tommy could take as much time as he needed to. All lore streams and other plans could be pushed back. Tommy had never really seen Dream as much of an older brother figure, but lately they were getting closer. It was nice.

He had been ignoring Wilbur. The day after their last phone call Wilbur wouldn’t stop messaging him. Tommy muted him on all media sites, unable to bring himself to look at the messages. The hopeful part of him hoped it was apologies for his actions, but the small chance of it being more scathing remarks made his hands shake and brain short circuit. He couldn’t manage it.

Phil had messaged him once, right at the begging. He asked why Tommy was ignoring Wilbur and if he was okay. He was soon muted as well. Tommy felt a lot worse for that one, but talking to Phil would be like talking to Wilbur. Too painful, and if he did he’d feel extra bad about ignoring Wilbur.

Even Techno had messaged him once, off handily mentioning that Wilbur was worried but Techno thought he was being dramatic. He did offer a place to talk if Tommy needed it. Tommy had sent him a thumbs up. Techno hadn’t prodded since.

His days are completely filled with work. He wakes up early to do school and forces himself through it the entire day, studying and completing his work with a manic energy that drives him forwards. On the fifth day he passes out walking to the bathroom after completely forgetting to eat. He almost caves and calls his parents to beg them to take him back. He resists and instead phones Tubbo and chats with him a bit to feel better.

He had been on his own for over a week and a half. Its horribly lonely. Most of his time is spent in silence. He hasn’t talked to anyone face to face in a week if you ignore booking the room and buying his food. He hasn’t left his room since the eighth day. His hair was greasy but he didn’t have the effort to go down to the gym and clean it again. He did that on the fourth day and almost had a panic over it.

Currently he’s lying on his bed, staring at the water-stained wall and trying not to cry. He had handed in three of his extra credit assignments, getting A’s on all of them. It brings his grade back up to an A, but he knows he’ll need an A+ before he can go back.

Not to mention he still had his other classes to work on and maintain his high grade on, which involved a lot of work that he really didn’t have the energy to do. But if another grade dropped he didn’t know what he’d do. He really wanted to go home.

At least he thinks he does. He thinks of his parents and he wants to scream, and the knot in his chest tightens and he feels like he can’t breathe. They had kicked him out. Tossed him to the streets. They hadn’t texted him to make sure he was safe or okay. He missed the security, he missed the family movie nights where they acted like a proper family, but he doesn’t think he actually misses them.

The thought makes him want to cry, so he pushes it away.

He misses streaming. Despite his job being a bit high maintenance and a bit stressful at times, he really did enjoy it. It was a good stress reliever and was always fun to hang around his friends and play games and get paid to do so.

But he wouldn’t be able to stream until he got back home. Luckily they had no recordings scheduled for at least a month from now, so he can only hope to be home by that point. He doesn’t know what he’ll do if he isn’t.

If his marks stay the way they are, he might be able to get it up to an A+ in at least another week. He’d have to change hotels first, because he is kind of worried about the police being called on him, but he’d manage. He still has a decent amount of food. Enough for a meal a day with a few snacks, which is really all he needs. He doesn’t want to waste more money getting extra food.

Maybe he’d treat himself to McDonalds one of these days. He could do with a Mcflurry at this point.

His phone is ringing. It’s Tubbo, so he picks it up.

“Hey Tubs!” Tommy greets, forcing his job back into his voice even as his face remains stuck in its emptiness.

“Tommy, hi,” Tubbo says, and Tommy sits up at the first note of worry he hears.

“What’s up? Everything okay?” He throws the covers off, standing up and getting ready to pace. Tubbo sounded worried.

“Oh yeah! Everything’s fine,” Tubbo says far to quickly. “Where are you?”

Tommy freezes at that. He wasn’t expected that question to come out of Tubbo’s mouth.

“I’m at home?” He lies easily. “Where the hell else would I be Tubbo? It’s like almost midnight.”

“No, I get that,” Tubbo said, laughing a bit. It sounds forced. “Sorry, it’s just Wilbur’s been messaging me lately and he’s super worried about you and said you weren’t at home? I figured you were just ignoring him though. I don’t know what happened but you’re both quite stubborn when you want to be so I decided to stay out of it, he just said you weren’t at your house and I panicked and wanted to make sure you were okay.”

Okay, that’s a lot. Did Wilbur go to his house? Jesus maybe he should check the unread messages.

“Woah Tubbo,” Tommy said, laughing a bit. “Slow down there buddy. I’m okay. Just ignoring Wilbur because he’s being a little bitch.”

Tubbo’s silent for a long moment.

“Can we video call?” He asks, and Tommy swears his heart stops. He opens and closes his mouth, panic bubbling up inside of him.

If they called Tubbo would be able to see that he very much wasn’t in his room. The gig would be up.

“Tubbo I don’t think-“ He starts, chuckling awkwardly.

“You’re lying to me,” Tubbo said, and he sounds more hysterical than upset. Tommy flinches back at it. “Where are you Tommy? You’d video call me if you were at your house and you’ve clearly been out of it for at least the past week.”

“Tubbo I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Tommy starts, because a little gaslighting between friends never hurt anyone in the long run. Tubbo can’t figure out that he’s kicked out. Tubbo is possibly the only person that could convince him to get help.

“Where are you?” Tubbo demands. “Are you safe? You’re not at your house and none of our friends have said you’re with them and Wilbur was freaking out and honestly I am to at this point so-“

Tommy isn’t proud of what he does next, but in his defense, he panicked.

He hung up on Tubbo, cutting him off mid ramble. He throws the phone on the end of the bed, staring at it like it might attack him. The screen lights up with a call from Tubbo. Tommy stares at it until it goes dark. It lights up another time. Tommy flips it face down so he doesn’t have to look at it.

He’s fucked everything up now. His parents didn’t want him, Wilbur was upset at him for some reason, and now he’s even managed to piss of Tubbo. God his only friend was going to be Larry the editor. What a sad, cruel life. Nothing against Larry of course, wonderful man, but Tommy liked having non-professional friendships sometimes. He’d never go to an arcade with Larry. Why was he even thinking of this? He must be going insane.

Couldn’t he do even one thing right? Was all he destined to do mess up? He grabs his phone and turns it to silent, cutting off another call from Tubbo. He sticks it into his pocket and leaves the room. He can’t stay there anymore. He’s going insane. He needs something to do and maybe going outside at midnight isn’t a good idea but its better than breaking down in a stupid fucking hotel room.

He finds his way to McDonalds. He buys himself a Mcflurry and doesn’t even eat it, just stares at it while he sits in a booth. Its kind of sad. The girl behind the counter is giving him a sad look and he totally deserves it. This is horrible.

He doesn’t want to look at his phone and see what Tubbo was saying. He doesn’t know what’s worse, the concern or the anger option. He’s experienced both from Tubbo and neither of them are very much fun.

“Fancy meeting you here,” A voice says, and he startled out of his musing, looking up find himself staring dead into Wilbur’s eyes.

“What the fuck,” Tommy said, and his voice was rough for some reason and he’s already close to tears and his hair is greasy and he’s holding a half-melted ice cream and he wasn’t really expecting this and-

Oh. Wilbur’s pulling him into a hug. Wilbur’s arms are around him and Tommy’s brain kind of stops working because it’s been a while since he’s been touched with anything similar to love and care. He freezes in Wilbur’s arms, the older man just clutching onto him tightly. He hears Wilbur sniff. Was he crying? Tommy was not prepared to deal with that.

“I was so worried,” Wilbur said, and he’s pulling back. He’s so crying. He’s also smiling. Tommy is very confused. He’s had enough emotional whiplash to last him a day. “Jesus fuck Tommy.”

“Um, hi?” Tommy said, because he doesn’t think he’s able to say anything else.

“I’m so sorry,” Wilbur says again, and his hands are holding onto Tommy’s now, squeezing tightly. “I’m so sorry I was such a dick to you and you didn’t deserve that. I was having a bad week and my roommate decided to move without any warning so I was worried about rent and-“

“Stop talking,” Tommy said quickly, and Wilbur’s face fell, mouth slamming shut. It was too much. Tommy was not in the mood to deal with this. “You’re already forgiven big man. I was never upset.”

“You’ve been ignoring me for almost two weeks,” Wilbur deadpanned. Tommy shrugged.

“Happens sometimes,” He shrugs, dismissively waving a hand. “What are you doing here?”

He’s pretty sure Wilbur still lives a solid couple of hours away. There is no rational reason as to why Wilbur was sitting with him in McDonalds past midnight. His life is strange.

“Looking for you obviously,” Wilbur said as if Tommy was supposed to just know that. “I have to message Phil and let him know I found you. He’s down here too. Tubbo’s freaking out too, but I think you know that. Techno’s fairly worried as well, in the most Techno way he can be. Dream’s even shown concern, but he’s been in contact with you the most so I can message him last.”

Tommy just blinks at him. That’s a lot of people worried about him. He hadn’t been gone that long? It’s been what, a week? Maybe two? And sure it hadn’t been the best couple of weeks but he was managing. These bitches were clingy.

“You look funny,” Wilbur said gently, pulling on his hand. “Come on, lets get you home. We can talk more there; you look dead on your feet.”

Tommy just nods, because really he is exhausted. He was up at 6 in order to finish up one of his projects so he could start another. And its now after midnight and he really just wants to eat his ice cream and go to bed, but Wilbur had already taken it and thrown it out. Kind of rude. He paid for that and he wasn’t exactly made of money. And hotels were more expensive than he thought they were.

Anyways, Wilbur was guiding him outside, quickly typing away at his phone.

“Phil’s going to meet us at the hotel, it’s too late to take you home anyways, so you can spend the night with us,” Wilbur said gently, his hand not leaving Tommy’s shoulder. Tommy doesn’t have the strength to tell him that he can’t go home either way. “We’re in the hotel just down the road.”

“The big blue one?” Tommy asks with slight amusement.

“Yeah?” Wilbur asked, turning to look at him with a puzzled look.

“That’s where I’ve been staying,” Tommy lets out a laugh, but it sounds weak even to his own ears. Wilbur stared at him for a long time.

“That’s so-“ Wilbur cut himself off with a sigh. “Of course you’re staying in the same fucking hotel as us, Jesus Christ.”

Out of nowhere Wilbur’s suddenly grabbing him again, pulling him into another hug. Tommy is just as uncomfortable as the first time, but he raises his arms up and awkwardly wraps them around Wilbur either way.

He didn’t know why Wilbur was here. He doesn’t really understand anything that has been going on recently. He had settled into a routine the weeks he had been out here, and now it was all ruined and he wasn’t really sure what was going to happen. He’d take it one hour at a time he guessed.

Wilbur finally let him go and they continued the walk back in silence. Tommy was too tired to really deflect anything and Wilbur looked deep in thought. Tommy doesn’t even really want to know what he was thinking about.

They get closer to the hotel and Wilbur lets out an irritated sigh.

“You know, we asked the people at the front desk if you had checked in. Showed them a picture and everything, and they said they had never seen you before,” Wilbur grumbled.

“Well image you’re working at a hotel and this kid shows up with nothing but a small duffle bag and the clothes on his back and reserves a room for two weeks and pays entirely in cash, and then a week later two sketchy adult dudes show up with pictures of him,” Tommy looks over at Wilbur, raising an eyebrow. “I wouldn’t tell you either.”

“Well when you put it like that it’s weird,” Wilbur's eyes widden. “Fuck, are they going to think I kidnapped you when we walk in together?”

“Maybe not, but I am going to be making panicked eyes at them now so they will,” Tommy said cheerfully.

“Gremlin,” Wilbur said softly, reaching out and ruffling his hair before throwing an arm around his shoulder and pulling him into his side.

“You're clingy tonight,” Tommy grumbled.

“I thought you were dead,” Wilbur said seriously, pressing his forehead to the top of Tommy's head. “Let me have this.”

Tommy opens his mouth, but that statement has fried his brain a bit so he snaps it shut again. They're silent the entire way up to the third floor. Funny enough, Phil and Wilbur’s room is exactly one floor below him. He hopes they were kept up with his insistent pacing late at night when he can’t focus or sleep.

As soon as the door opens Tommy is suddenly once again engulfed in a hug, Phil grabbing him and holding him tightly.

“Holy shit Tommy,” Phil whispered, pulling back and looking Tommy over. “You scared the shit out of us mate.”

“Sorry,” Tommy said awkwardly, fighting back a yawn. Phil was still fussing over him, and Tommy waves to Kristin who sat in the corner, waving back at him. Thankfully she didn’t move forwards as well, giving him space that he kind of really needed.

“Have you eaten yet today? Should we be making you something to eat?” Phil asked, frowning down at him, hands resting on his shoulders.

“I had dinner a couple hours ago,” He quickly lies, because the last time he had ate was at lunch around twelve hours ago. He didn’t think he could stomach anything at this point, anxiety tossing around his gut. He had really only been able to stomach a single meal the entire time he had been on his own. Phil frowns at him, glancing over his head at Wilbur, making some weird face that Tommy didn’t want to decipher.

“You’re as thin as a stick,” Phil prods gently.

“Fast metabolism,” He shoots back, raising his head slightly and daring Phil to contradict him. Wilbur had walked around, opening his mouth to argue with him and Tommy was already mentally preparing himself for the trek back upstairs when Kristin cut in.

“Okay you two,” She clapped her hands, startling everyone in the room to looking at her. She pointed at Phil and Wilbur. “Get out of here, it’s too late to deal with all of you at once.”

“What do you mean get out of here?” Wilbur asked, looking slightly baffled. Kristin ignored him with an ease that told Tommy that she had much practice in doing so.

“Tommy honey can you give Wilbur your key card? He’s going to go run and get your toiletries and some pajamas for you,” She asked, and Tommy just mutely nodded, the exhaustion starting to flood back in now that the shock and excitement was mostly over. Wilbur was pouting, opening his mouth to protest but one solid glare from Kristin shut him up. Tommy handed him the key card and Wilbur slipped out the door with a backwards glance.

“Phil,” She pointed at her husband. “Go get me a snack from the vending machine down the hall.”

“But-“

“No buts,” She cuts him off, leaning forwards and pressing a short kiss to his lips before leaning in to whisper something softly in his ear. Tommy rolled his eyes at the display of affection, his stomach turning slightly as he looked away. When was the last time he ever saw his parents be as openly affectionate as they were? He pushes that thought away.

Phil sighed before also slipping out into the hallway, leaving Tommy alone with Kristin, who smiled gently at him. He always liked her; she really was the perfect match for Phil. But in the very short list of people he wanted to be left alone with, she only barely made the list. He just wanted to sleep. He needed to be up early again tomorrow for his classes.

“When Wilbur gets back you can get ready for bed, I can tell that you’re exhausted,” Kristin’s voice was soft, and she carefully reached out and guided him to the table, sitting him in one of the chairs. “You can take the adjoined room with Wilbur, or if you feel more comfortable I can kick Phil out and you can stay with me. Or Phil. It’s up to you Tommy.”

“Oh, you don’t have to do that,” Tommy pulled out of her grip, scratching at the back of his head and giving her his brightest smile. “I’ll just go upstairs, it’s perfectly fine I don’t want to impose on anyone.”

“You’re not imposing at all,” Kristin reassured, just as firm. She didn’t reach out and touch him again, but her hand tensed slightly in a way that implied she wanted to. “Think of it as a way to ease Phil and Wilbur’s nerves. They’re a bit clingy aren’t they?”

Tommy let out a soft laugh, finally someone speaking his language around here.

“They are fucking clingy huh?” He agrees as the door opens and Phil and Wilbur walk back in. Wilbur was holding his toiletry bag and his folded pajama pants. Phil was holding four bags of Oreos in his arms.

“Phil’s not going to give you the Oreos if you keep insulting us,” Wilbur declares, putting the stuff down on the table before walking over to his own bag, grabbing an old sleep shirt of his own and tossing it at Tommy. Given that Tommy had his own sleep shirt in his room that Wilbur just didn’t bring, he was a bit confused but overly too tired to really care that much. He liked stealing Wilbur’s clothes anyways.

“I never said that,” Phil rolled his eyes, tossing Tommy a bag. “Eat up you little shit.”

Tommy wasn’t very hungry, he hadn’t had a proper appetite ever since he was kicked out, but everyone else was already opening the bags and he didn’t want to be the odd one out in an already fairly uncomfortable situation.

They ate in relative silence, the other three clearly waiting for him to say something and him clearly not wanting to say anything at all. He wasn’t really sure what to think about this turn of events, how to process the fact that both Phil and Wilbur came down specifically to search for him after a week and a half of silence.

Tommy’s eyelids were growing heavier. The atmosphere was more comfortable in this room than anywhere else Tommy had been in for a long time. He can’t remember the last time he felt this genuinely safe. There were still the pressing expectations on his shoulders and the whole being kicked out issue, but he wasn’t at risk of being yelled at. He wasn’t about to be guilt-tripped and shamed and have to wonder if his large pack of ramen was going to last him the next few days.

He rested his head in his hand, propped up by his elbow as he played with his empty bag, swirling it around the table. Everyone else wasn’t finished yet, and he wondered what was taking them so fucking long to eat a small bag of snacks.

His eyes are slipping closed and he blinks hard, trying to shake his head to keep himself awake longer. They probably wanted to talk. Tommy really did not want to talk. Did he owe them an explanation? He wasn’t quite sure. He had inconvenienced them by making them come all the way out here just to check on him after all. He didn’t want to think about this, or really anything else, ever again.

It was weird how safe he felt, despite the raging uncomfortable feeling growing in his gut. They were in a constant battle. His shirt felt too tight and warm and the light was too harsh on his sore eyes. Everyone was just a bit too close and everything was getting kind of fuzzy in the way it always did when everything got a bit too overwhelming. He closed his eyes in an attempt to cut out at least one of the overpowering senses.

“You ready for bed Toms?” Wilbur said gently, reaching out and softly running his fingers through Tommy’s hair. He melted into the touch, eyes slipping shut again as he gently pushed back into Wilbur’s hand, chasing the soft scrape of his fingers on his scalp. Wilbur let out a soft huff of a laugh. “I’ll take that as a yes. Come on.”

Wilbur stood up, his hand leaving his head and Tommy let out a soft hmpf of annoyance. Wilbur gently reached down, helping Tommy stand up. His limbs weren’t cooperating very well, moving slower than they should be. He wondered if they drugged his Oreos or if he really was just that tired. Probably the Oreos.

Wilbur helped him to the other room, Tommy leaning heavily against him and trying to burrow into the warmth. He had been so cold lately, the scratchy hotel blankets doing nothing to help keep away the ever-present chill that had been plaguing him.

But Wilbur did. Wilbur was warm and familiar and safe and if Tommy tried hard enough he could pretend that their last few conversations never even happened. It didn’t matter anyways; Wilbur was here now and that’s all that mattered. Tommy wasn’t alone anymore. He had Wilbur holding him up and Phil and Kristen in the room next door. He didn’t have to be alone anymore.

Wilbur helped him to the bathroom, giving him his clothes and firm instructions to get changed and brush his teeth before he slipped out, the door closing behind him softly. Tommy sat there for a long moment, staring at the supplies blankly as he squinted against the harsh artificial light. He changes quickly, his clothes feeling a bit too tight for his liking. Wilbur’s shirt was huge on him for some reason, the fabric light enough that he felt like he could properly breathe again.

Brushing his teeth seemed to be a bit more of a challenge for some reason. He was exhausted, his mind fighting to stay awake and deal with all this when he really just kind of wanted to shut down and stop thinking at all. Wilbur only grabbed his toothbrush, so Tommy was forced to use Wilbur’s minty toothpaste instead of his own flavorless one. The taste clung to his teeth and throat, and Tommy made a point to cup his hand under the tap and try to wash the rest of the flavor out that way. It didn’t really work.

He didn’t want to go out and face them quite yet when everything felt so frazzled, so he sat down on the toilet, putting his head in his hands and taking a couple deep breaths. It was odd, going from pretty much complete isolation and intense focus on his schoolwork to suddenly be flung into the company of his friends and their prying eyes. They would want him to talk, and Tommy would. He always would. Wilbur and Phil had a way of prying almost anything out of him if they wanted to.

Tommy just wanted to rest. He wanted to go home. He wanted the world to just stop for a couple of minutes so he could have a moment to catch up to it all. The world seemed to be moving past him so fast, deadlines and due dates jumping on him and beating him to a pulp before he could even breathe. His grades dropped, his parents kicked him out, he was on his own, and now he was in a hotel with his two internet friends and it really had only been a month since everything started.

It was just too much. He couldn’t keep up with everything changing and shifting around him. It overwhelmed him and he didn’t know how to stop it. He just wanted to lie down and let it all pass him by. But he couldn’t because Wilbur and Phil were here and they wouldn’t let him and they’d force him to talk and face it all and he really didn’t want to.

“Tommy?” Wilbur’s voice called out gently, his knuckles rapping against the wood in a sharp noise that made Tommy flinch. “You okay in there? You’re taking a while.”

“Everything’s okay big man,” Tommy called back, ignoring the way his voice shook. Wilbur let out a disbelieving hum.

“Are you decent? Can I come in?” Wilbur asked, his voice softer as if he could tell that Tommy’s ears were ringing. Tommy nods, before realizing that obviously Wilbur couldn’t see him through the door.

“Yeah, if you want to,” he said faintly, staring at a spot on the wall to try and stop his vision from swimming. Maybe he should have eaten more today. He’ll try for two meals when he wakes up, depending on how busy he is. He hears the door creak open and it takes Wilbur two steps to be in front of him, crouching down with his stupidly worried face. “Hey Big Dubs,” Tommy said weakly, trying to pretend like he wasn’t spiraling into his own mind. Wilbur gave him a shaky smile.

“You don’t look too hot,” Wilbur muttered, a hand carefully reaching out and brushing a few strands of hair out of his eyes.

“I always look hot.”

“Sure you do buddy.” Wilbur lets out a huff of laughter, carefully grabbing him and pulling him up to his feet. Tommy sways a bit, and Wilbur grabs him, keeping him steady. “Careful there. We’re going to go to bed okay? We can talk more in the morning and figure it all out. Right now it’s late and I can tell you’re exhausted.”

Tommy just nods, leaning into Wilbur as he guides him out of the bathroom and towards one of the beds. Wilbur’s arm was wrapped around him, his fingers gently swiping across his skin in a soothing movement.

Wilbur carefully helped him into one of the beds, pulling the covers around them even as Tommy grumbled and sloppily rearranged them again, proclaiming that he wasn’t a fucking child and that he could do it himself. Wilbur just gave him that infuriating smile he always had when he was humoring Tommy. Tommy ignored him and snuggled deeper into the covers, glaring at Wilbur lightheartedly.

Wilbur settled on the ground beside him, which looked uncomfortable but Tommy was too tired to protest it. Wilbur was still holding one of his hands, and it was a little awkward but Tommy wasn’t going to change it for the world. His eyes fell shut within seconds, and Wilbur started softly humming a tune.

Tomorrow he would have to think about his school again, have to work towards raising his grades and making sure he could get back home at some point. But for now, he could just enjoy Wilbur’s voice softly coaxing him to sleep, the hand once again resting in his hair.

For now, he could rest.