Chapter Text
Tommy knew avians existed. There weren’t many, but since Phil had gone public about being one himself, a lot more came out of hiding. Tommy wasn’t one, but he always found himself envying Phils majestic, iridescent wings.
Who wouldn’t? From the first time he saw them he was mesmerized, and felt an aching longing to glide through the skies like Phil did.
No use in wishing for something he couldn’t have, yeah? He thought, turning off the monitor that displayed Philzas stream.
Tommy had been editing a video while watching the stream. Although he had an array of editors on hand to edit his weekly videos, Tommy occasionally preferred to do it himself. It was a nice distraction when he was stressed, something tedious and methodical but not so difficult it made his brain hurt.
Throwing an empty coke can in the bin, he stretched and stood up. Deciding to take a break from the editing, he made his way to the bathroom. He was forgetting to wash his face a lot lately, he noticed.
To be honest, his entire self care had become subpar, evident by his evergrowing dark circles and speckles of acne along his cheeks.
Tommy had begun hiding it with concealer, though god forbid he ever admit that to anyone. No one had noticed, despite his HD camera.
Another thing that had been bothering the boy, an ache in his entire back that he just couldn’t shake off.
Running his hands up his shoulder blades, his skin felt a bit patchy and warm to the touch. Acne, perhaps? He should probably start taking better care of himself…
Whatever, future him could deal with it. He thought as he tried to twist his back, only being met with painful cracking of bones and a stinging sensation where the rash was the worst. Jesus fuck that hurt.
Tommy walked downstairs, making his way into the kitchen. He threw some water in the electric kettle and tossed a tea packet beside it. Green tea was good, everyone was just cowards who didn’t brew it right.
He sat on the counter while he waited, slipping into a trance-like state as the steady bubbling noises of the water lulled him.
Tommys eyes had begun to droop when a buzz from his phone knocked him out of it, eyes snapping open.
Wil : Hey, you almost ready for the recording? We’re in VC 2
SHIT, FUCK- Tommy had forgotten. His memory was worse and worse lately.
Big man: course i am dipshit, omw
His tea was left in lieu of bolting upstairs. Taking the steps two at a time caused his back to yell at him, though, and he couldn’t hold back a quiet whimper of pain.
Tommy quickly stopped at the bathroom, covering up the imperfections that littered his face, doing his best to make it look like they were never there. The idea of having people see his face without anything on it was terrifying, though he used to do it all the time.
He walked a bit slower this time, taking a seat and throwing his headphones on haphazardly. Seeing the others were indeed in in VC 2, he hopped in, greeting them all.
“HEY FUCKERS!”
“There you are, finally.” Wilbur said, a teasing tone to his voice.
“I’m perfectly on time, asshole.” Tommy retorted.
“Yeah, yeah, sure-”
“Alright mates,” Phil didn’t need to say any more, the pair stopped their bickering.
Tommy pulled up his various softwares, making sure everything looked good, then pressed the red ‘record’ button.
The recording went well, Wilbur and Charlie had started yet another cult, Phil carried the entire game while Tommy tried to help. It was fun, lots of laughing, lots of yelling, and plenty of dick jokes that made Tommy lose his shit cackling.
Ranboo was there as well, though he didn’t talk as much as he usually did, leaving Tommy to wonder why. He decided to check on him later.
“Ok boys, I’m gonna head out, think I slept wrong, my backs been hurting like a fucker.” Tommy informed them.
“It's your shitty posture, Tommy.” Wilbur snorted.
“Just get a new back, duh.” Charlie gave ‘helpful’ input, causing the vc to all laugh.
“Let me know if it doesn’t go away, mate.” Philza sounded thoughtful
“I can handle an achy back, *Dadza*.” Tommy rolled his eyes, although they couldn’t see it.
Tommy disconnected before he got a response, pushing his headphones off and onto his shoulders. Opening him and Ranboos dms, he thought about how to phrase his message.
As much as he pretended to hate Ranboo online, he quite cared for the boy, so once they all had disconnected, Tommy shot him a message.
Tommy: ey big man, u doing alr? u were pretty quiet the whole time.
There was no response for a few minutes, and Tommy was beginning to worry that Ranboo was going to leave it that way.
The small “Ranboo is typing…” popped up on screen, though, and Tommy watched it. No message was sent, but it went away, like he had deleted the drafted message.
It took a bit, but he eventually got the vague response of;
Ranboo: Yeah, just didn’t sleep much last night
Tommy thought it was odd, he took way too long to write such a small message. He made a mental note to keep a close eye on him, and maybe talk to Tubbo about it too. Maybe Tubbo knew something?
He set his headphones on their stand, switching the audio output on his computer to his speakers instead. He wasn’t a fan of using headphones when he didn’t have to.
Tommy decided to play Wilburs bands new album. He put it on shuffle with some other music and flopped onto his bed. That turned out to be a mistake, as the pain in his back worsened from the rather soft fall.
He rolled onto his side instead, letting the music fill his ears and carry him into an uncomfortable sleep. It wasn’t late at all, but Tommy felt exhausted. He’d send the footage to his editor later, right now he just wanted sleep.
_________________________
When Tommy woke, it was dark out. Fuck. Now he wouldn’t be able to sleep again till an ungodly hour.
With a bit of effort, he pulled himself out of bed, groggy steps carrying him to his desk.
Ranboo was streaming with Tubbo on the smp, so he decided to join them. Tommy was sure the fans would eat up some ‘bench trio’ content. He thought the name was stupid and sounded way too close to bitch trio. Maybe thats what he’d start calling them.
“Oh, hey big man!” Tubbo greeted in a happy voice. It lifted his spirits, so he easily slipped back into his persona when he responded.
“Hey Tubso!” He purposefully didn’t greet Ranboo at first, just to keep up the bit. He knew they both understood, and they always played along.
“Hi Tommy, wanna hop on? We’re just messing around at the moment.” Ranboo asked, no hint of whatever had been troubling him earlier. Tommy wasn’t surprised, he knew he wouldn’t show it to the fans if something was bothering him.
“Fine, I guess, Ranboob.” Tommy fake-groaned, starting up minecraft. The other two laughed. Even if they were all currently putting on personas, it still was nice. He cherished every moment he got with his friends.
They ended up just running around, not really getting anything done, though that was to be expected. At some point, Tommy had accidentally let his sore back hit his chair while laughing.
“-Ow, shit…” He cursed quietly, causing the other two to stop their laughter and worry instead.
“You ok big man?” Tubbo asked, punching his in-game character to get his attention.
“Course I am, backs just hurting.” Tommy reassured.
“Still? You should get it checked out.” Ranboo pointed out, causing chat to become worried as well, which was the last thing Tommy needed. Great job, Boob man.
Is tommy ok?
lol L
hurtinnit :(
It would probably be all over twitter now, his fans just couldn’t keep their nose out of his business.
“PSHHH, a little pain ain’t enough to faze the great TommyInnit! They don’t call me Big man for nothing!” Tommy said, with a slight tone that told the other two to drop it. They did, luckily, and the chat eventually moved on.
He hopped off about an hour later, and at that point it was almost 3am.
Tommy was tired enough now, so he crawled into bed once again, this time careful to avoid laying on his back. Maybe he should talk to someone about it…
He might tell Phil, since the older man had sounded like he knew something. The idea of telling his parents or a doctor was terrifying. He'd rather stick it out and wait for it to go away on its own. He was sure it would. Really sure.
He fell into a rather unrestful sleep, everytime he would roll over in his sleep he’d wake from the pain, and have to readjust himself. No dreams were had that night, every time he was close to one, he would wake up again in substantially more pain than before. God, this sucked.