Chapter Text
"Who am I?"
It was a simple thought that resided in the deep darks of the blond's mind. Loud but quiet—an abnormality that stuck out like a sore thumb in Tommy's otherwise cheerful personality. He never knew why he asked it, but he did. It was as simple as that.
"I'm...Theseus Houston," The boy said carefully as he stared at his reflection in the mirror. He knew he was dreaming. He knew he was having a nightmare that was challenging his very being. Yet he fell for it—unable to stop himself from falling into despair.
Darkness surrounded him, the only thing clear in his vision being the tall mirror in front of him, presenting his dirtied appearance in full force. He had often familiarized himself with this image, as this nightmare never ceased to plague him.
Swallowing thickly, Tommy watched in bated breath as a pair of sickly hands suddenly reached out from the darkness, raking its bony fingers through his blond locks. He waited, as that was his only option in this situation.
A sense of safety washed over the boy as he squeezed his eyes shut, his mind memorizing the tiny movements that used to be oh so familiar to him.
He didn't have the heart to fight this off, nor the will to do so.
"You're my son." A new voice murmured, Tommy barely relaxing as he kept his eyes shut. The voice was soothing—all too similar to a river coasting along on a sunny day.
"How could I know that when I barely know you? We might share the same blood...but I'll never say your name lovingly if I don't even know you." The blond spat out indignantly, the pain in his voice on full showcase despite the unbelievable amounts of anger that covered it.
"We both know that time is a fickle thing. It was indeed unfair that we never got the chance to embrace each other, but that is just how the leaves will fall from the tree..."
Tommy grimaced. "No. Time is a bitch. It isn't 'fickle', it's just a plain bitch to have taken you away from me..."
"A-and...you're a bitch as well to have let it take you away from me..." The boy stuttered out, trying to pull away from the soft touch. "If you really were my mom—if you had cared about me...you would've tried to fight against it!"
A fragile silence followed the teen's statement, Tommy waiting impatiently for his 'mother' to argue against him...as that's what he wanted.
But nothing was said. Not a single word of belittlement nor assurance...and that's what scared Tommy. The silence. Not a thing giving away whether the world disagreed or agreed with him.
"...oh Theseus...my Theseus..."
Waking up with a jolt, Tommy grimaced in pain as a sharp ache in his neck thoroughly greeted him. Taking a long moment for his mind to adjust to his surroundings, the blond groaned as he sat up reluctantly.
Yet another night of falling asleep against the wall.
...the teen was starting to think of simply selling his own bed.
Glancing around his room, Tommy unhurriedly stretched his arms out—as if he was unbothered by the scene before him.
All around the bedroom random objects floated around in the air, gravity being apparently non-existent for these certain things. Among these objects were pieces of discarded clothes, drawers, and maybe a few empty soda cans. Casually pushing these floating objects out of his way, Tommy made his way out of the mess that he called his bedroom.
It was a strange and unusual occurrence for random objects to suddenly float when one's person was around, but Tommy lost his surprise after the first three times. Sure, it's probably not the norm in this society for people like Tommy to exist, but there will always be a glitch in a perfect game.
Yes, Tommy did just compared the real world to a video game.
Smothering a yawn, the blond's head lolled around—his eyes barely open, if not at all. Carefully walking down his stairwell to avoid tripping, Tommy sluggishly made his way to the kitchen.
Flicking the lights on, Tommy froze in his tracks immediately.
"Uhh...do I know you?" The teen said slowly.
Before the boy was a man, a handsome one at that. The brunet looked like he was currently trying to climb into the kitchen sink, frozen mid-way in the action like a deer in the headlights.
The man's eyes were blown wide open, his mouth opening and closing like a fish. The strange person wore clothes that were similar to royalty—a prince's to be more exact. His strange costume was colored white with gold accents, a crimson red sash spread across his body. Despite his eyes being a dark brown, there was a strange gold tint to them that made them nearly divine.
The brunet was a bit taller than the teen by the looks of it, a perfectly sculpted body giving him a sturdy appearance, betraying his soft facial features.
"ʖ|| ℸ ̣ ⍑ᒷ ⊣𝙹↸ᓭ!! ᔑ ⍑⚍ᒲᔑリ ʖ𝙹||! ╎-...⚍ᒲ..." The man suddenly shouted, the words completely foreign to Tommy's ears.
Tommy raised an eyebrow, slowly reaching for a frying pan. "I...what? Hola...bitch?" The blond wore a confused expression, his hand grasping the handle of the frying pan—lifting it out in front of him defensively. "...I knew I should've paid attention to Spanish class..."
The man said nothing, still as unmoving as a statue as he nervously blinked at the boy.
Getting no answer, the teen wasted no time throwing the frying pan at the stranger. The object cut off the man's cries of protest as it recoiled off after hitting the brunet in the head.
"Ý tôi là không có hại! Xin vui lòng!" The man shouted, his words changing once again. As Tommy started to ready another frying pan, the brunet finally spoke a language the teen knew.
The brunet held up his hands. "Agh! Wrong language...I swear you humans are so strange, why can't you use one way of speaking?" Tommy still didn't hesitate as he flung the frying pan at the man again, the stranger ducking just barely.
Unfortunately, this caused his hand to slip, the man accidentally turning on the water faucet. Jolting back as the water touched him, the man fell headfirst to the kitchen floor with a large crash—taking down the dish rack with him.
"By the name of Philza! What type of strange magic artifacts are here?!" The man barked out, Tommy raising an eyebrow. "Might you be..."
Whipping his head around to face Tommy, surprise and awe danced in his eyes. A feeling of despair dawned on the teen, though he couldn't find the cause of such a thing.
"...a young wizard?"
Tommy blinked. He said nothing, the boy carefully walking over to the kitchen sink and turning off the water.
The man's eyes widened. "Such good control as well!!" The brunet suddenly shot up, a smile brightening his features—suddenly looking like an excited puppy. "You! You must be the one!"
The blond looked lost for words, the teen staring at the man with an expression mixed with confusion and 'wtf'.
"Uhhh...what are you on big man? My aunt said to not trust the druggies."
"So...you aren't some creepy guy...but you're a creepy god?" Tommy said picking his words carefully as he leaned back in the dining chair.
Currently, the stranger had begged him to listen and had invited the teen for a talk. The blond didn't know why he agreed to it, but he did. The brunet in front of him, or 'William Gold', had insisted that he was a god, and Tommy was a 'wizard that could help him'.
The boy was having his doubts though as he watched the god stare awestruck at a fork.
William scoffed. "I'm not creepy! I'm more divine, and...charismatic!" The 'god' said as he puffed his chest out. The brunet quickly returned to fidgeting with the small silver fork though, a certain type of fascination dancing in his eyes.
"Trust me. You would have no chance with the ladies." Tommy muttered under his breath.
William straightened his posture quickly, glaring at the teen sharply. "Pardon me? I am certainly a 'ladies man'. Kristen always fawns over me!" The brunet paused, returning his attention to the small fork. "...by the way, what strange use does this artifact have?"
"And..." The blond tilted his head, ignoring William's comment about the fork. "...what relationship do you have with 'Kristen'?"
"She's my mother!" The god replied, still grinning in pride. "...but from the form of this artifact...it looks like a good weapon" William whispered under his breath as he carefully poked at the silverware.
Tommy dragged a palm down his face. "Don't you gods know what forks are at least? Aren't you supposed to have big ass fancy pavilions where you fuck around or some shit?"
"Ah—no," William said, placing down the fork. "We exist outside of time and space, simply drifting through an infinite void. We don't need words to communicate nor eyes to see each other. I've simply taken this form as it was the most presentable, almost as divine as me!"
Tommy gave the god a look of almost disappointment.
"...What? Did I say something that doesn't fit your type of speaking"
The blond simply sighed, shaking his head softly. "I guess this should be expected from 'the God of Song'."
...
Why must Jesus give me a fuck boy out of all the gods?