Chapter Text
Never let it be said that Philza wasn’t merciful, at the very least.
Of course, he was vengeful and bitter and cunning, but in this business, those were hardly deadly sins.
So when he found out another cartel was dealing on his turf, of course, he went personally to see the head of this little operation. After everyone else in the miniscule little base had a bullet set in their skull, by the twins, of course.
“Techno, would you stop that?” He said to the pink-haired man currently crouched on the floor poking at a dead body with a dagger.
“Not like they’re gonna be using these-” Techno muttered
“Yes, but we don’t want them,” Philza retorted. “Come on, mate, we've got bigger fish to fry”
Techno sighed and stood up. He towered over Philza, and yet obviously deferred to him by waiting for the shorter man to walk through the door to the office first.
Phil took a moment to adjust his tie, button his cuffs, make sure there wasn’t too much blood on his shoes.
“Alright then, come along,” Phil said with a small smile.
They walked into the storage room which had been converted into the office. A man was bound and gagged on the office chair, his wrists bound to the arms of the chair with duck tape and his head hung as if he was asleep.
Wilbur was sitting on the desk, smoking a cigarette and flicking a lighter on and off. The floor was wet, and the room smelled of the chemical smell of gasoline. It was then that Philza noticed that the man also seemed to be drenched in gasoline. He frowned.
“Careful with that, Will,” Phil said, as he paced slowly around the room, taking stock. Perhaps the most expensive thing in the room was the computer on the desk, which had been apparently thoroughly destroyed. He wouldn’t be surprised if Techno had used it to bash someone’s head in, the pink-haired man was surprisingly resourceful.
There was, however, quite a nice painting hung on the wall behind the desk. He tilted his head, examining it. It seemed old, a biblical painting depicting an angel descending from the heavens.
Something about it was haunting. It was suitably dark, the man who bought it probably thought it was intimidating. Or perhaps he was more devout than Phil considered. Either way, he doubted he understood the actual history behind the piece. The tortured faces of those in the crowd, the barely visible halo around the angel’s head, the darkened skies, and the lack of any source of light, divine or otherwise.
This was judgement day.
Phil smiled. It’d look nice in the entryway to their house, he thought. He’d have Techno pull it off the wall after they were done.
“Wake him up, would you?” Phil said, not looking away from the painting. Will grinned and took a drag of his cigarette before he pressed the orange glowing end of it to the man’s hand.
The man jerked awake, letting out a muffled scream when he saw the two men beside him. Wilbur giggled.
“Good morning, you have a good sleep?” He asked with a toothy grin.
The man’s eyes went wide, he looked around with desperation.
Phil frowned. “Techno?”
“Mm?” Techno said, his arms crossed, his eyes fixed on the pathetic scene in front of him.
“Do me a favor and ungag him, will you?”
Techno nodded curtly, before grabbing the man’s face and tearing the ducktape off his face. The man screamed, deep and primal. A scream of pure fear.
Phil walked to the front of the room and smiled at the man. He didn’t even scream this time, he just swallowed down whatever fear he had, and kept his mouth shut.
Not many people knew Phil personally. He preferred to let his sons do the dirty work, while he preferred to stay behind the scenes and keep his hands clean.
It was a rare occasion something made him so offended that he would feel the need to deal with it in person.
So, he wasn’t surprised the man didn’t recognize him.
“Don’t worry” Phil said “I just want to ask you a few questions”
“You’re gonna kill me,” The man said, his voice shaking.
“Don’t know what gave you that idea,” Wilbur muttered. He kicked the empty can of gasoline to the side. Phil shot him a look.
“It’s just a few questions, mate,” Phil said with a comforting, almost fatherly smile “All goes well, and everyone walks out of here with all their limbs intact. Alright?”
The man nodded.
“First off, do you know who I am?” Phil asked.
The man looked to the side, then slowly shook his head.
“‘Course not. But you know who these two are, right?”
The man nodded. He looked to Technoblade “He’s-He’s the blood god, isn’t he?”
Techno scoffed. Phil nodded.
“And him?” Phil gestured to Wilbur.
“He’s-” The man faltered “I-I don’t know his name but-”
“It’s alright,” Wilbur said with a smile, he sat back on the desk. “Not many people do. Honestly, not many people get the chance before-”
“Will.” Phil warned.
“Sorry”
“Right then. I’m sure you can draw your own conclusions on who I am based on the company I keep.” Phil said. “Now, then you probably know why I’m here”
The man gulped. “I-I had no idea this was the crow’s territory, I would have-”
“Mm, I don’t think that’s quite true,” Phil said with a laugh “Who do you work for?”
The man blinks and shuts his mouth. Loyal, or at the very least afraid of whoever he’s working for. Phil sighed. He wished this would be an easy ordeal, a quick in and out and he’d know who dared to sell on his territory.
But few things were that easy.
“See, I was worried this would happen,” Phil said. “So, How about this?”
He leaned in close. Still smiling, the man trembled.
“Wilbur here has an affinity for cigarettes.” Phil hissed. “And someone was silly enough to spill gasoline all over this floor, and all over this cheap suit of yours. One stray ember and I’m afraid you’d-”
Phil paused. “Well, you know.”
The man winced but said nothing.
“So, If I were you I’d start talking.”
“I won’t tell you anything,” The man said, suddenly assured of himself.
“Pity,” Phil said. “I really do hate the smell of burning flesh, Wilbur?”
“On it” Wilbur hopped down from the desk. Switched on his lighter and-
“Wait!” The man yelled “I-You’re a crime boss, right? That’s what you are?”
Phil blinked. “Simple terms, but yes.”
“I-I still have supply, and money-If that’s what you want then-”
“Oh, oh no” Phil laughed. “What I’m after here isn’t drugs or money. It’s about principle, mate”
The man looked absolutely flabbergasted.
“My philosophy is simple enough” Phil explained. “I keep what’s mine, and everyone else stays the fuck away from my territory. My family, and my business. Anyone who doesn't, is a dead man.Simple enough, right?”
“Y-yes,” The man said, blinking rapidly.
“Alright then. Will?”
“N-No, wait!” The man yelled “Wait, wait. I-I do recognize you!”
“Oh?” Phil said.
“Yeah” The man grinned. “You’re Philza, aren’t you?”
Phil blinked. Strange. Not unheard of, but strange for such a low-level criminal to know him by name.
“Indeed. And?”
“And, and these two are your brats”
Techno grunted something. Wilbur rolled his eyes.
“They’re my sons,” Phil said slowly “What are you getting at?”
“You don’t have two sons,” The man said, a sudden, terrible grin on his face “You’ve got three.”
Phil felt his stomach drop. What?
“Yeah, his name is Tommy, right?” The man laughed “Tommy, I bet he’s a little brat, probably goes to that fancy private school on the east side of town, right?”
“That’s it,” Wilbur said. “You can insult me and Techno, you can even sell on our turf for all I care-”
“Will.” Phil said through clenched teeth.
“But you do not threaten my little brother, you got that? You good for nothing son of a bitch” Wilbur practically shouted in the man’s face.
“Wilbur, we still don’t-”
It was too late. Wilbur flicked open his lighter and dropped it onto the man’s lap. The fire caught quickly, and in seconds the man was aflame. A horrible, primal scream wrenched itself from his throat as he was engulfed in fire.
Phil grabbed Technoblade’s arm.
“Your gun” He demanded, holding out his hand.
Techno was staring at the fire, mouth slightly open in shock.
“Techno” Phil shouted “Give me your gun!”
Techno blinked, seemingly brought back to reality. He took his gun from its holster at his side and handed it to Phil.
Phil aimed and fired straight at the man’s forehead.
Never let it be said he wasn’t merciful.
The screaming stopped. The fire burned out. The man was little more than a charred carcass.
“What the fuck-” Phil said “Was that?”
“He was threatening Tommy,” Wilbur said. “Nobody threatens our family and lives to tell the tale, right?”
“Will-”
“Nobody,” Wilbur said firmly.
Behind him, Techno echoed the same word. “Nobody.”
Phil sighed. “You two-”
“Just took care of your little rival seller problem,” Techno said and took the gun from Phil’s hands. “Now we can all continue like nothing happened.”
Phil pressed his fingers to his temples. There was no point in arguing with the twins. He was fairly certain both of them would go to war for their family, especially for himself or Tommy. Of course, they were fiercely loyal to each other, but god knows if anyone gave Tommy any trouble, they would end up with either a few missing fingers and teeth or a pipe bomb on their doorstep.
Sometimes he wasn’t sure teaching these boys the idea of “family above all else” was the best idea.
“Fine.” Phil waves a hand. “Techno, grab that painting.”
“Why?”
“I have a soft spot for depictions of the end times” Phil muttered and leaned against the desk.
“Alrighty” Techno said. He pulled the painting from the wall where it was bolted down and carried it out of the room. “I’ll put it in the car”
Phil nodded and waved a hand.
The twins walked out of the office together. Wilbur was making some stupid joke, and Techno elbowed him so hard he practically flew across the room. Wilbur laughed loudly, and Phil heard Techno chuckle softly.
Phil smiled to himself. Of course, it had been the right thing to do to teach his boys loyalty to their family.
This was his family, afterall. Broken and dangerous, but his.
He’d be damned if he let anyone interfere with it.
---
“Tubbo, you are dead”
“Uh, I don’t think so big man!”
Tommy narrowed his eyes. Why the hell Tubbo mained Kirby in Smash, he had no idea. But for some goddamn reason, he was having a hell of a time beating him.
“Have you been practicing, or something?” Tommy said, leaning to the side as he mashed the buttons on his controller, attempting to salvage this round.
“Nope, you just suck” Tubbo retorted. Tommy gasped, and Tubbo apparently took it as an opportunity to push him off the edge, winning the round.
“FUCK” Tommy yelled “You- Asshole!”
Tommy grabbed one of the pillows off the couch and smacked Tubbo with it. He laughed and attempted to bat it away.
“Nooo!” Tubbo said, “Spare me!”
“Absolutely not” Tommy yelled. “You are such a dick, you know that?”
“Sorry, sorry!” Tubbo said with a laugh. Tommy couldn’t help but smile.
Tubbo was perhaps his best friend in the whole goddamn universe. Of course, he couldn’t stay mad at him for long.
Not like he couldn’t act like it though.
“You better be!” Tommy said “Fuckin’ rat-bastard son of a-”
“Tommy”
Tommy looked up, to see Wilbur standing with his hands in his pockets, his face serious. Tubbo seemed to stiffen beside him. The other boy was always tense around his family, though Tommy didn’t have the faintest idea as to why. He’d tried to ask Tubbo once why he was so nervous around his brothers and father, and Tubbo had evaded the question, saying something about social awkwardness.
Tommy just let the subject drop. It wasn’t like his family was ever really around when Tubbo was over anyway. Usually, when Tommy got out of school, Wilbur was working, Phil was working, and Techno was working.
He didn’t mind though, god knows he had much more freedom than other kids his age.
Tommy would never admit it to anyone, but his life was pretty cushy. Being the son of a CEO of a multi-billion dollar pharmaceutical company certainly helped.
“Wilbur” Tommy nodded. “You’re home early?”
Wilbur said nothing. He walked over to the couch and nudged Tommy’s legs with his foot. Tommy sighed and moved them to the floor. Wilbur sat down next to him, one arm on the couch behind him.
“Techno’s home from school tonight, Phil asked me to make sure you didn’t trash the place,” Wilbur said, putting his feet up on the table. “Course, I told him there was nothing to worry about. But he wanted to be sure so”
Wilbur shrugged.
Tommy frowned. He turned to Tubbo.
“Let’s go to my room-”
“Ah! Don’t let me ruin your fun” Wilbur said with a grin “C’mon, finish your game”
“...Fine, whatever” Tommy rolled his eyes.
They finished the game in relative silence. Of course, Tubbo wins the final match. He grins to himself while Tommy slumps back on the couch with a groan.
“Damn,” Wilbur said, not really paying attention. He seemed to be scrolling through listings for concerts. Tommy raised an eyebrow. “You really suck at this game, little brother”
“Don’t call me that” Tommy snapped.
“Oh? Would you prefer I referred to you as my-” Wilbur put down his phone and wrapped his arms around Tommy’s shoulders, pressing his cheek to Tommy’s “My widdle baby brother?”
“Come on, stop it!” Tommy yelled. Tubbo giggled. Tommy shot him a deathglare.
Wilbur laughed and released him. He stood, dusting off his pants. Wilbur was always painfully fashionable, Tommy felt scruffy next to him with his undone school tie and rolled-up shirt sleeves. Wilbur, in contrast, was dressed in nice black pants, a black turtleneck sweater, and a brown plaid trench coat which was well-tailored to fit his lanky build. He wore the same necklace he always did, a pendant of a single golden wing on a gold chain. It was the same symbol that was tattooed on Techno’s upper arm. Some family emblem, or something. Tommy couldn’t care less.
“Alright,” Wilbur said. “I need a cigarette. I’ll leave you two to it, don’t burn down the house, yeah?”
“Whatever,” Tommy says at the same time Tubbo says “Yes, sir”
Tommy gives him a look. Wilbur laughs, the tap of his shoes on the floor indicating that he’s walking away. A moment later, the door to the balcony opens, then shuts.
“You don’t have to call him ‘Sir’” Tommy says, making air quotes with one hand, picking up the controllers, and setting them on the shelf by the television.
Tubbo shrugs.
“Your room?” He suggests. Tommy nods, and together they make their way down the hall to Tommy’s room.
This was perhaps the only place in the house where Tommy was able to make a mark of any kind. Everything else was pristine, polished. All in Phil’s taste as well, dark and somber and yet sleek and efficient. Black was the favored color, as well as wine reds and forest greens.
Tommy’s room, on the other hand, was a complete and utter travesty.
It was messy, first off. Clothes littered the floor, and his wastebin was overflowing with coke bottles and torn off pages of his notebook. His bed was unmade, his closet door wide open. It was the one room in the house the maids weren’t allowed to touch. The twins had set the precedent long ago that Phil’s children had to clean their own rooms.
Fine by Tommy, he simply never cleaned it.
His walls were covered in posters, mostly from bands Wilbur took him to see, but also from some of his favorite shows and video games. He had a dartboard with one of Techno’s knives sticking out of it, a bookshelf full of comics and other books.
(And a copy of Moby Dick which he’d carved a square out of when he was fourteen to hide the cigarettes he’d stolen from Wilbur. It had since become the center of his weed stash. Though he honestly doubted anyone would care if they found it. Still, he held on to any facet of teenage rebellion he could find.)
It was messy, it was atrocious to look at, but it was his. Tommy flopped down on the bed, feeling finally at peace. This was his room, his home terrain.
Tubbo took a seat on the couch in front of Tommy’s bed.
“So, what do you want to do?” Tommy leaned over the end of the bed, “We could practice your knife-throwing skills, or-or we could smoke. I honestly doubt Wilbur would notice.”
“Eh, I’m okay,” Tubbo said. Tommy rolled his eyes. Of course. The only person he could ever reliably get high with was Jack. And Jack was boring as fuck. And also the school’s dealer. He was probably high all the time anyway.
“Come onnn” Tommy said, rolling onto his back and looking at his room from an upside-down angle. “You never want to do anything fun.”
“More like I never want to do anything dangerous,” Tubbo said “Why do all your ideas of fun involve knives or drugs?”
“They don’t all involve knives,” Tommy said, “Some involve hot women-”
“No, stop” Tubbo smacks Tommy’s arm.
“Ugh” Tommy groans “I’m bored”
“Don’t we have like, a group project to be working on?” Tubbo said.
“Yeah, with the creepy new kid,” Tommy said. “Like I said, Boooring”
“He’s not that bad,” Tubbo said “I think he’s just shy”
“He’s a total loser” Tommy snapped “Oh, I’m Ranboo, I have- I’m Tall”
“Pfft, stop,” Tubbo said “Just stop”
“What are we even meant to do for that project?”
“Make a timeline of World War One?”
“BORING” Tommy said. “I’m playing Animal Crossing, fuck this shit”
“I-Okay then.”
“C’mere, I’ll give you a little tour of my island,” Tommy said, grabbing his switch from his bedside table. “I call it-It’s called Pogtopia”
The rest of the afternoon passes quickly. Up until the point, there’s a knock on Tommy’s bedroom door.
“Yeah?” Tommy yelled
Wilbur opened the door, now without his coat. Tommy swears he can smell the cigarette smoke from all the way across the large room. “Tubbo’s mum just called.”
“Oh,” Tubbo said “That’s my cue, I guess”
“Ugh,” Tommy said “Fine. See you later. Tubso.”
Tubbo got up off the bed, giving Tommy a little smile and wave before he left. “See you tomorrow,” He said cheerfully.
Wilbur watched him carefully as Tubbo walked across the room to the door, and past Where Wilbur was stood in the doorway. Tubbo said a quiet “Bye” To Wilbur, who nodded curtly, and watched as he walked down the hall. Tommy frowned.
“Why do you have to give Tubbo such a hard time, man?” Tommy said, putting down his switch and moving to sit on the edge of his bed, “He’s like, My only friend.”
“When’s the last time you cleaned in here?” Wilbur wrinkled up his nose “It stinks”
“It smells fine”
“Smells like stinky teenage boy” Wilbur sat next to Tommy, grabbing him in a headlock and ruffling his hair. Tommy yelled in annoyance and attempted to throw Wilbur off.
“LET ME GO” Tommy roared. Wilbur laughed and released him.
“God, you’re more clingy than Tubbo today” Tommy stood up to go fix his hair in the mirror “What’s wrong with you?”
“Nothing,” Wilbur said “Nothing at all.”
“Hm,” Tommy hummed “So, Techno’s back from school for today?”
“Just for the weekend, yeah”
“Got any plans?” Tommy asked.
“Well, I was thinking maybe-” Wilbur stood up, and suddenly his reflection joined Tommy’s in the mirror. “We could maybe go to a concert. One of Techno’s metal bands”
“That sounds awful,” Tommy said
“I think it would be fun!” Wilbur says with a smile. He loops an arm around Tommy’s shoulder. “I’m not working this weekend, got time for some brotherly bonding”
“Ew, no,” Tommy says, “I think Jack said something about going skiing-”
“Just consider it. It’ll be fun” Wilbur said, then after a moment of consideration. “if It’s not I’ll buy
you something nice”
Tommy looked up “Anything I want?”
“Sure. Anything.”
“A gun”
“Anything but that”
“A knife”
“Nope”
“Please?”
Wilbur laughs, ruffles his youngest brother’s hair “Nope”
---
Dinner with the family is always...interesting. It was interesting when they were children, and it’s the same now when they’re adults.
It almost always ends up with Tommy recounting the private school drama like it was a soap opera. Which is sorta funny, not funny like it was years ago when they all still lived in the same house. Back in the day, Tommy used to kick Techno under the table until that one time he threatened to take his eyes out with his dessert spoon.
Which was less than funny.
So these days he sticks to the petty drama.
“So in the end, the whole family ended up moving to Alaska, so the lawsuit kinda went out the window,” Tommy said, furiously cutting apart his steak “Oh, and It turns out she wasn’t even cheating on him with his brother, it was his cousin”
“Close enough” Techno deadpanned.
“Wait, this is the one who moved to Alaska?” Phil said. Tommy rolls his eyes.
“No, this is the one who ripped out that girl’s nose ring,” Tommy says “Honestly, Phil, you’re going senile.”
“Tommy-”
“Has anyone considered taking away dear old dad’s steak knife? I don’t think he’s in any shape to be handling deadly weapons” Tommy said, laughing to himself.
Techno and Wilbur shot each other a look. Wilbur chuckled a little as if they were sharing some kind of inside joke. Tommy looked between them. What the hell could they possibly be talking about with their twin-to-twin telepathy?
“Okay, okay,” Phil said. “That’s enough, no more jokes about me being old”
“But you are old?” Wilbur pointed out “Maybe Tommy’s right, You shouldn’t be holding this-”
Wilbur snatched the knife from Phil’s hand.
“Dear old Dad’s in no shape to be cutting his own food-He might hurt himself-”
“Wilbur” Phil snapped “Give me the knife-”
“God only knows what would happen if this old man somehow found a gun!” Wilbur said like it’s the funniest thing ever. Techno stifles a laugh.
Tommy blinks. Okay, he’s a bit lost now. “Guys-”
“Yeah, he might shoot somebody,” Techno says “He might kill them”
“And ruin someone else’s plans! Exactly, Techno!”
The twins are laughing, but Tommy and Phil sit in silence. Tommy’s is a confused, maybe a little scared silence, and Phil’s is that of obviously internalized anger.
“...I sense I may have missed something,” Tommy said. He pushed away from the table “Uh, can i-”
“Yes, Tommy” Phil waved a hand. Tommy nodded and headed back to his room.
God, his family was weird sometimes.
---
“What the hell were you thinking?” Phil poured himself a second glass of wine.
Wilbur scoffed. “What?”
“Talking like that right in front of him!” Phil gestured “I mean, are you honestly that stupid?”
“You know we’re not” Techno commented.
“God, you two are infuriating” Phil shook his head.
Wilbur took a sip of his own wine. “You really expect him to never find out?”
Phil looked up. “What?”
“Well, I reckon he’s old enough to know,” Wilbur said with a shrug.
“He’s still a kid-”
“We were like thirteen when you got us into the business” Techno pointed out.
Phil sighed. His face looked drawn. Wilbur noted that as an expression of profound regret.
“And it was too early,” Phil said. “What happened to wanting to protect your brother?”
“Protecting him and keeping him in ignorance isn’t the same thing,” Wilbur said
“Haven’t you ever heard of blissful ignorance?” Phil retorted.
“I say we do it the old-fashioned way” Techno raised a hand. “Give him a gun and have him kill somebody, then tell him. Make sure he’s actually ready.”
“No” Phil hissed “That is-That is the worse possible way to do that-”
“Well, that’s how you told us”
“No-I-”
“I think we always sort of knew?” Wilbur looked to his twin. “I mean, the dead body in the back garden kind of gave it away”
“That was a one time-”
“Yeah, yeah. A one-time thing.” Wilbur waved a hand. He stood up, pushing his chair back. Fuck this fancy wine, he needed hard liquor.
“Why don’t we just-” Wilbur unlocked the liquor cabinet, pulled a bottle of scotch from the highest shelf. “-Just sit him down, and tell him?”
“Because he’s not ready!” Phil said. “He’s too young.”
“We could do it tonight! We could shout down the hall and say-” Wilbur pours himself a glass “Hey! Tommy! We need to have a chat!’ And he’d come prancing down the hall like a little innocent gazelle-”
“No-”
“And we say to him, ‘Hey! Guess what pays for your fancy private school education, and your fancy video games and this nice house we all live in, and the maid who cleans your dirty socks!’” Wilbur gestures dramatically, his arms spread wide, spilling some scotch on the counter. “The family business of killing people, harvesting their organs, and selling hard drugs!”
“Wilbur-”
“And he’ll be all like ‘Oh wow! How wonderful! When do I get my own gun?’” Wilbur took a long sip of his drink. “You know he asked me today for a gun? I almost laughed, considering...y’know.”
“No, no,” Phil said. “We are not telling him. Not now, at the very least”
“Then when?” Wilbur asked. “When?”
“When he’s ready.”
“And when will he be ready?”
Phil just stared at him. Wilbur stared back.
“When he’s ready, Will,” Phil said, turning back to face the table. “End of discussion.”
Wilbur tightened his free hand into a fist. He downed the rest of his glass, raised the empty glass in a gesture almost like a cheer, then flung it at the floor where it shattered against the kitchen tiles. He stomped off toward the front door.
“And where are you going?” Phil yelled after him.
“Out” Wilbur grabbed his coat. “I need a stiffer drink than this goddamn place can provide.”
Phil shouted something. Wilbur pretended not to hear. He slammed the front door and stalked out into the night.
---
Tommy despised group projects.
Partner projects, he could manage. Since he and Tubbo were in all the same classes but one (Tommy had chosen music for an elective, Tubbo had tutoring during his free period), he could rely on Tubbo to do the majority of the work for him.
But this was a group project. A group of three, specifically. Him, Tubbo, and Ranboo.
Ranboo arrived out of nowhere sometime last week. He was tall, with black hair with a white streak that Tommy was quite certain was dyed, and he never got shouted at for his uniform being out of place, or being late to class. He was shy, kept to himself, and was, honestly, probably homeschooled. Up until now, that is.
He also always wore gloves. One white, and one black. Not the strangest thing ever, but still. Odd.
There were rumors, of course, there were rumors, that Ranboo’s family was involved in some crime syndicate. Or something. Tommy thought it was ridiculous, what was this, the 1920s? Gangs like that didn’t exist anymore, certainly not in this city.
But rumors like that existed in any prestigious school. This one was no different.
“Okay, so” Tubbo was saying “Do we start with the assassination? Or do the whole, background story thing?”
“Uh, add the background,” Ranboo said. “It-uh-explains more.”
“Right, right, but how do we format that? Just, put it at the beginning here?” Tubbo pointed to the beginning of the line they’d drawn.
“Yeah, right-” Ranboo pointed to the line “Right there, I think that’s good”
His sleeve hitched up just slightly. Of course, Ranboo’s uniform didn’t really fit perfectly, His proportions were so lanky, it would be hard to tailor them completely correctly.
But what was more interesting, was that when Ranboo’s sleeve was pulled up, between where the cuff of his glove was and the end of his sleeve-he had a small tattoo on the inside of his wrist.
A simple, three-pointed crown with three dots signifying gemstones. Tommy frowned at it.
“What’s that?” Tommy pointed to Ranboo’s wrist.
Ranboo quickly pulled his hand away and tugged his sleeve down. “Nothing?” He said.
Tommy blinked. “Your wrist, you have like, a little crown on it?”
Ranboo scoffed, smiling a little. “No, I don’t?”
“It’s a tattoo, how do you have a tattoo?” Tommy asked, “Aren’t you like, our age?”
“Tommy-” Tubbo tried to say.
“I don’t?” Ranboo said, looking at Tommy like he was insane. “I don’t know why you would think that”
Tommy just stared at him. “But-I saw-”
“Can we get back to the project?” Ranboo said, smiling a little. A smile that was less friendly, and more of a threat.
Tommy blinked. “Fine. whatever”
---
“I’m telling you, he’s fucking weird”
“I think he’s alright”
Tommy paused outside the gates of the school. Tubbo carried on walking, then after a few steps turned and looked at Tommy with a look of confusion.
“My house isn’t far,” Tommy said “Let’s walk”
“What? But it’s like-” Tubbo blinks up at the sky. “Cloudy”
“So?”
“You’ll get...cloudburnt” Tommy scoffed. “You are so fucking strange”
He walked past Tubbo, who quickly followed after him.
“Tommy, I don’t think-” Tubbo said. Tommy waved a hand.
“Whatever man. We won’t die”
“It’s just safer to-”
Tommy turned to look at him. “Safer? What are you on about?”
“...Nothing, Don’t worry about it,” Tubbo said with a sigh.
Tommy frowned but kept walking.
Why was everyone acting so strange all of a sudden?
“Anyway. I was going to say…” Tommy said “That Ranboo fella is...I don’t know, he seems shady”
“Shady?” Tubbo asked.
“I told you about the tattoo on his wrist,” Tommy said “And besides, he’s always wearing those gloves like, what’s he hiding?”
“Maybe he just thinks it’s cool?”
“Well, it’s not,” Tommy said, “Did I tell you about what Wilbur and Techno were talking about last night-”
Tommy took a step forward, almost running into a fence. A fence. What the hell?
“Construction?” Tubbo said, raising an eyebrow “Oh, they’re re-doing the sidewalk”
“What the fuck” Tommy said “I- Why? This sidewalk was perfectly fine!”
“...It was sorta cracked?”
“Whatever” Tommy looked around. How could he get around this? All he saw were nice houses with nice shrubbery out front. Far from the skyscrapers and bustling streets of the city’s center. The neighborhood was peaceful, quiet. Not where Tommy and his family would live, but nice enough.
“We should go back,” Tubbo said, fiddling with the straps on his bag.
“Nah, we’ll just go around,” Tommy said. He spotted an alley a few houses back. That would work well enough.
“Tommy,” Tubbo said as he walked by. “Tommy?”
“C’mon, this probably lets out the other side of the street”
“Or into someone’s back garden?”
Tommy frowned at the alley. “Nah, this is wide enough for a car to go down. We’ll be fine.”
“Tommy, I don’t know if-”
“Pussy!” Tommy yelled
“Tom-”
“LOSERRRR,” Tommy said as he walked further down the alley.
Sure enough, after a few moments, he heard the sound of footsteps behind him. Tommy smiled to himself.
“See?” Tommy said, “Not getting mugged.”
“Yeah, but this is like, for sure a dead-end” Tubbo commented.
“Not for sure”
“For sure,” Tubbo said, “And it’s getting dark.”
“Nah, it’s still light out,” Tommy said.
“Why can’t you just listen to me?” Tubbo said “We should have just gotten a car, you literally have a whole chauffeur and yet you chose to walk! I don’t get it”
“Whatever, you can go back if you want. See if I care”
“I’m just saying it’s stupid!”
“Well, Excuse me for wanting a few moments of peace with my friend!” Tommy yelled. “I swear to god, every moment of my life there’s someone paid by my dad hanging around-Like I have nobody who isn’t my family or works for my family.”
“You have me,” Tubbo said quietly “I’m your friend”
“Yeah. Nobody except you” Tommy walked faster. Tubbo stood for a moment, then trailed behind him.
After a few minutes of walking, a couple of wrong turns, and more than a few groans of frustration, it became apparent they were lost. Great. Exactly what they needed.
The night was falling quickly, and somewhere Tommy could hear a distant siren. Cars honking, the sounds of the city. He frowned. They couldn’t be that close to the city center, right?
“We should go back, or-” Tubbo said for what Tommy thought might be the millionth time. He pressed a hand to his forehead.
“No!”
“Or call someone-”
“No! I can do this on my own, Tubbo” Tommy yelled, without looking at him.
Tubbo said nothing.
“I can find my own way out of a stupid goddamn alley!” Tommy yelled.
Tubbo grabbed his shoulder.
“Shh!” Tubbo hissed.
Tommy turned to look at him. In the low light of the alley, his face was almost scary for how serious it was.
“Quiet” Tubbo said “I thought I heard…”
He trailed off, looking into the darkness of the nearby, smaller connecting street. Tubbo squinted into it, and Tommy laughed, thinking he must be joking.
“Very funny-” Tommy said, and at that moment, a gunshot rang out, far too close to Tommy’s ears. He flinched, covering his face in instinct. He felt Tubbo push him to the floor, and a wince of pain came from the other boy.
Tommy hit the ground shoulder first, and clenched his teeth. He got up, shook his head.
“Tubbo!” Tommy yelled. He sat up, crawling over to where Tubbo was curled up on the floor, clutching his leg. It was dark, but Tommy was pretty sure there was a dark stain on his calf. Tommy put a hand on his shoulder.
“No-” Tubbo said, his face contorted in pain “Get down you- you idiot-”
With surprising strength, Tubbo grabbed Tommy’s shoulder and pulled him down, switching their positions almost entirely so that Tubbo was the one with his back to the alley.
He’s shielding me Tommy thought distantly. What the hell is he doing that for?
Someone grabbed the back of Tubbo’s shirt, pulling him off of Tommy and throwing him to the floor.
“Tubbo!” Tommy shouted as a strong pair of hands grabbed him. He struggled against them, kicking and screaming until there was a pinch in his neck, and he felt his brain stop dead in its tracks, his heart rate slow
He pushed against whoever was holding him with one last burst of effort, and they dropped him. He fell to his knees, trying his best to move towards his friend.
Someone grabbed his collar and struck him across the face. It made his head spin. Tommy didn’t think he’d ever been hit like that in his life. The worst injury he ever had was when he broke his arm skiing, and even then he hadn’t hurt as much as simply shocked him.
He’d certainly never been hit that hard before.
Whoever had him before regained their grip on his shoulders. There was a low ringing in Tommy’s ears, and he struggled to keep his eyes open.
What he could see, however, was Tubbo pointing a gun at someone from the floor. A gun which was fired twice, and then kicked out of his hands. Someone kicked Tubbo in the stomach, and he curled in on himself as the beating continued.
All Tommy could do was watch. His limbs seemed unwilling to do what he was telling them to. Honestly, he wasn’t sure he wanted to run or to fight. All he knew was that he could do neither.
He was helpless. Utterly powerless
The feeling was so unfamiliar it almost ached.
The last thing he saw was Tubbo crumpled on the floor, the shadow of a man looming over him. The barrel of a gun pressed to the temple of Tommy’s best friend.
And then the darkness took over.