Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The bed was uncomfortable beneath him. Tommy didn’t get up, however, keeping his eyes on the cheap clock to his right. 

The clock struck midnight.

Tommy turned away from the digital clock, muttering a “ happy birthday ” under his breath. The window was closed, thin blue curtains pulled over the glass, but the room still felt drafty. The cold, stale air was making him go insane, and he wondered for the upteenth time how long he would be there. On the nightstand, a vase sat, with bright plastic flowers. Under that, were two cards. The first one, an over the top store bought card with fifty bucks and a heartfelt paragraph, and the second, a simple card made out of construction paper.

He wanted to re-read the messages inside, what he usually did when he couldn’t sleep, but the act of stretching his arm out to grab it would hurt his ribs, so he stayed where he was, staring at the popcorn ceiling.

Tommy tugged at the scratchy sheets, willing himself to fall asleep.

The hospital bed was uncomfortable beneath him.

 --- 

He never fell asleep, made apparent by the concerned look Puffy gave him when she swung open the doors. “Happy Birthday, Tommy!” A pause. “Did you get any sleep?”

He pulled himself into a sitting position, hiding a wince. “Just a few hours. Not bad.”

She smiled. “Alright, just make sure to let the doctors know if you can’t sleep. It’s supposed to be one of the side effects, I think.” It wasn’t one of the side effects. Tommy could never sleep. “You’re sixteen, now. How do you feel?”

“Like shit,” he answered honestly, laughing a little. “You know how it is.”

She rolled her eyes. “Not even a little bit older?”

“Same as yesterday, innit?”

She walked further into the room, messing with the clutter on the bedside table. Busy would be the best way to describe her: always rushing to do things, never keeping still. They were sort of similar in that aspect, although Tommy didn’t want to do anything but keep still nowadays. “You’re getting discharged today, right?” He nodded. “Do you wanna head to the coffee place to celebrate? I can text Dream to see if he wants to come.”

Tommy blinked, instantly frowning. “Another house? Already?”

Puffy didn’t bother lying. Why would she? They had worked up a routine over the past three and a half years. “Technically you’ve been between houses for a little more than four weeks,” She reminded lightly. “I can tell you more about the family over coffee.”

“Don’t we have to wait for my ribs to heal?” He lifted up his left wrist, tightly wrapped. “And my wrist?” However boring the hospital was, there was always a large chance the foster house would be worse.

“It’s been a while, Tommy. And I’ve worked with this family before, no past history of abuse.”

Tommy sighed. “Alright. Text Dream, I guess.”

Puffy smiled. “Thanks, Tommy. I really think this one could be good for you.”

They signed the necessary forms before exiting the building, Puffy getting into the driver's seat and Tommy sitting to her right. He was itching to drive, considering he hadn’t in over two months, but along with the other list of prohibited activities, driving wasn’t allowed until he was completely healed.

It took them over thirty minutes to get to their destination, signalling that the house was out of town. The town was familiar, though, and he recognized it to be the one that Dream lived in. That could be cool. He had never lived this close to Dream before.

The coffee shop was small and tiny, along with the rest of the town, and had dim lighting and the strong aroma of coffee floating around. Puffy stepped up to the barista, someone taller than he was, wearing sunglasses despite the lighting. Their name tag said Eret- all pronouns in neat lettering.

“Hey Eret!” Puffy said, fumbling for her wallet. “Long time no see.”

“It’s definitely been a while, Ms. Puffy.” Their voice was deep, and had a slight accent to it. “It’s good to see you.”

“It’s good to see you too. This is Tommy, by the way.”

Tommy sent them a halfhearted wave which was returned with a smile. 

“Alright,” Puffy said, scanning the menu. “I’ll have a small iced white mocha with...vanilla sweet cream foam and extra caramel drizzle, thanks. Tommy?”

Tommy rattled off the same thing he always did. “A small hot chocolate.”

Eret typed up their orders, and Puffy paid before leading them to one of the booths. She reached inside her handbag, pulling out a file and sliding it over.

It was the generic light yellow that his was, but the contents looked far more different. He scanned them easily as Puffy spoke.

“So you’ll be staying with Phil Minecraft. He’s the one in the picture.” The picture showed a man with blond hair and blue eyes, smiling at the camera; the type of smile that crinkled his eyes. “I’ve worked with him before, and I was the caseworker for his last two kids.” Siblings. Goodie. “They both should be around 18 now, I think. Seniors in highschool. I think you’ll like them.” Two 18 year olds. This wouldn’t go well. Tommy had experience with foster siblings before. He could probably deal with one on his own, but two? Out of the question. “You’ll be going to East Empire high school, along with Phil’s other sons.”

Tommy wrinkled his nose. “That sounds pretentious.”

Puffy snorted, pushing her white hair out of the way. “It sort of is, to be honest. Most of the students who go there are rich. But on the bright side, so is Phil.”

So Phil wasn’t in it for the money. Good to know. But sometimes he liked those houses better, being ignored wasn’t always a bad thing. Being stuck in some rich success story’s house with two other siblings didn’t sound fun. 

Behind him, a bell sounded, and Tommy twisted in his seat to see who it was. Sure enough, Dream strided in, waving to Eret before taking a seat next to his mom.

“Tommy!” He said, ruffling Tommy’s hair.

He rolled his eyes, fixing his hair while cracking a smile. “Hi Dream.”

“Happy birthday, man. How old are you? 12?”

“Oh, shut up. You’re just pissed you have to start doing taxes and learning about mortgages. I’m still youthful,” He grinned.

“Oh come on, we all know I’ll pass them off to Foolish or something. But seriously, it’s gonna be so much fun with you here.” He turned to Puffy, glancing at the folder. “Who’re the siblings? I might know them.”

Puffy shook her head, waving the folder. “Nope, completely confidential.”

Dream rolled his eyes, “Yeah, as if you didn’t already break the rules when you showed that to Tommy. Or when you showed him his own file.”

Tommy flicked the seniors forehead. “Oi, I just wanted to see what it said about me.”

“Ooh, I can take you to school if your foster brothers are shit,” Dream’s eyes sparkled as he tugged on the strings of his obnoxiously green hoodie. “You’ll have to sit in the back, cause George won a bet so now he gets full shotgun privileges. And once you get your schedule, send it to me, I can give you advice if I know the teachers or not.”

Tommy grinned. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.

 --- 

Scratch that, Tommy was regretting everything. The guy standing in front of him was tall . Tommy didn’t meet many people taller than he was on a regular basis. 

He wore a dark blue crewneck, letting the white collar underneath poke out, and thin glasses. His hair was a dark brown, falling over his forehead. He would have looked nice, like a teacher, if it wasn’t for the annoyed glare painted on his face. 

Puffy smiled at him. “Hey Wilbur! What’s up?”

Wilbur sighed, not returning the smile. Bitch. “Hi Puffy. You guys can come in. Dad’s just getting everything ready.”

They stepped inside, Tommy barely taking a second to marvel at the chandelier and marble floor before taking a seat in their living room along with Puffy. Or their second living room, apparently. 

The room had high ceilings and grey couches, each one with multi-colored pillows sitting on top. 

“Dad!” Wilbur called.

“One moment!” Another voice responded.

Footsteps sounded, and soon enough, the face of the picture Tommy was shown stood in the doorway, with a tray of drinks. “Hey Puffy, hey Tommy.” He set it down on the ottoman, taking a seat on the other couch with Wilbur. “I’m Phil.”

“Hey Phil, it’s great to see you again.”

Tommy mumbled a “ hi ” in response, slumping against the couch. His ribs were aching again. 

Puffy slid over a few papers, along with a pen, and began directing Phil where to sign. “Here, here, and…here. You had the inspection a couple days ago, right?”

“Yup. In the clear.” He glanced to Wilbur. “Tommy, do you want the tour now while I finish up here? Wilbur can show you your room at the end, and I can come talk to you later tonight, if that's alright with you.”

Tommy nodded, standing up.

Puffy stood up. “I’ll just talk to him for a quick sec.” She pulled Tommy back the way they came, out of earshot, touching his shoulder lightly. He remembered when she would bend down to his eye level, four years ago when he was only 12, but now he towered over her. “Remember Tommy, if you ever feel unsafe, get out of the house and call me or Dream. Shit,” she muttered. “I should have bought you a phone beforehand.”

Tommy shook his head. The last one Puffy bought him was thrown against a wall and was probably still there. He didn’t remember, considering he was trying to not die. “I can get one on my own. You already gave me 100 dollars for my birthday, I can use that.”

“Tommy you snuck fifty of those back into my purse,” she chided.

He huffed in response. “I can still buy one myself.”

“Alright,” She sighed. “I’ll be back sometime in the next couple of weeks.” She passed him his backpack which he hoisted onto one shoulder.

Tommy nodded, not bothering to fight her on that. He knew he was her oldest kid, and also the one who ended up in hospitals the most.

She sent him a final smile before returning to Phil. 

Wilbur nodded at him to follow, and he did, stepping further into the house. He pointed at a door. “Bathroom.” They walked further, into an open area with the kitchn on one side and an even larger living room on the other. “Living room. We’ve got Netflix and Hulu. And cable, I guess.” He pointed. “Kitchen. If something doesn’t have a name on it, then it's free game.”

Tommy nodded.

They passed by another door. “Basement.” Wilbur swung the door open, stepping back when someone was already standing there. “Jesus, Techno.”

Techno ignored him, glancing at Tommy. He didn’t miss the way Techno noticed his left wrist before meeting his eyes. “New kid?”

Wilbur nodded. “We have to show him around.”

“I’m Technoblade.” He stuck out a hand, and after shaking it, he noted that Technoblade had a strong grip. He had pink hair pulled back into a braid trailing down his back, and a simple sweatshirt that had the anarchy symbol on it. He looked alright. He also looked like he could beat Tommy up.

Tommy made a mental note to not antagonize him. Wilbur, on the other hand… “Tommy.”

“Mhm. Most of the stuff down there’s mine, so don’t touch it.”

Wilbur began walking again, and Tommy followed him, aware of Technoblade silently trailing after them. They passed by the second living room, and Phil called out, “Wil, Tech? Be nice, alright?”

The two of them responded with varying degrees of affirmation, continuing up the stairs. “That’s Phil’s room. Technos’ on the other side. This one's mine.” Wilbur swung open a door to reveal a large room, with dark blue bed sheets and a desk on the wall. It was clean, like freakishly clean, but that was all Tommy had the chance to notice before the door was closed. “This one’s yours.”

Tommy nodded, stepping into the large room. It was blank, with generic grey bed sheets and a simple desk in the corner. Nothing on the walls, and no trinkets on the desk.

Wilbur continued talking. “Alright, I think you’re going to school tomorrow, so if you don’t wanna go on the bus then be ready at eight.”

“I have a ride.”

“Made friends already?” Wilbur noted drily. “Just make sure you aren’t late, I don’t want Phil on my ass. Dad already got you some school stuff, so check that out when you have a chance.” He snapped his fingers, thinking. “And don’t go into other peoples rooms without knocking, and we’ll do the same for you. There’s a lock on your door that probably works.” Privacy. Cool. “And make sure Phil knows where you are if plans change or you stay after school or something. Is that all?”

He directed the question to Techno, who answered with a monotone voice. “I think so.”

Tommy didn’t have a phone, so he wouldn’t be able to let Phil know anything either way, but he nodded. He was tired, and he wanted to go to sleep for the next 24 hours. Going to high school in the morning didn’t sound fun either.

He flopped onto the bed. There was a window to his right, similar to the hospital he stayed at, and he wondered if it would be possible to move the bed to face another direction.

Thirty minutes later, there was a knock at his door. He didn’t answer, wanting to see what would happen. The door wasn’t locked by any means.

“Tommy? You in there? I have dinner.” Silence. “I can set it outside, if you’d like.” More silence, then the noise of a plate being set on the hardwood. “You don’t have to, but would you like to go to school tomorrow, or not? If not, I could take you shopping for some stuff for your room.”

To be honest, Tommy didn’t want to get things for his room. He would be leaving in a few months, probably less if they expected him to not get in trouble at school. “Can I go to school the day after tomorrow?” He asked experimentally.

“Yeah,” Phil said, sounding far too happy just for a response back. “That's great. Oh, and Puffy mentioned that your phone broke.” Something was slid under the door. “Good night, Tommy.”

He waited for a few moments, before standing up to peer at the floor. A phone. Phil had gotten him a phone. He unlocked it, noting that it was completely wiped. Except for four new contacts: Wilbur, Techno, Phil, and Puffy.

The last time he was given a phone this early ended in a funeral.

Chapter Text

He woke up late that day, almost 1 o’clock. Tommy almost never fell asleep easily in the hospital, but when his head hit the pillow after locking the door, he was out quick.

After checking the time, he made his way downstairs, noting how quiet the house was. His footsteps were unintentionally loud as he walked into the kitchen, echoing around the room, and he paused when he saw Phil seated at the table. He had a laptop in front of him, along with a bowl of cereal. 

“Hey, Tommy. Sleep well?”

Tommy shrugged, staying rooted in his spot. People didn’t just foster sixteen year olds. There was no point. Tommy was still trying to figure out how to categorize Phil. He had decided on Techno and Wilbur's categories the previous night, 3B and 4B respectively. 

Phil gave up on a verbal answer. “Well, milk is in the fridge and the cereal is over here, if you’d like. If not--”

“That's fine.” He moved to the fully stocked fridge, looking for the milk. Tommy reminded himself to grab some granola bars from the pantry when he got the chance.

“So what time do you wanna go shopping? I’m free whenever.”

“Actually,” Tommy began, meeting Phil’s eyes for the first time that day. “I was thinking about checking out the town today. I haven’t been here often.”

Phil brightened. “Yeah, that sounds like fun. We--”

“Alone,” Tommy interrupted.

It was almost satisfying to see Phil wilt. Type 2A, he thought. A fixer . Someone who decided to foster a fuck up to see if they could be fixed. It wasn’t his favorite, but it was far better than the others. He would be able to relax for a few months in a rich house and eat overpriced cereal and leave when Phil finally decided it was impossible. He could deal with that.

“Well, I suppose you are 16. Just make sure to keep your phone charged and text me in between if you can. And curfew’s 10 pm, because it’s a school night. Anything later would have to be run past me first.” Phil sent him a smile. “Have fun. There’s a nice bakery by 7th avenue you should check out.”

Hmm. The way it was phrased made it seem like curfew on weekends would be later. Hopefully, considering most races started at 10.

Tommy nodded. “Sounds good.” He sent him a salute, pulling his shoes on and jogging to the front doors.

The weather was nice, the type of fall weather that made everything feel crisp . He shivered due to the breeze, tugging on his sweatshirt that he grabbed on the way out.

Races were hard to find. With the amount of cops sniffing around, the destinations and timings were kept secret. Even posting a picture at a race would get someone permanently banned. But they were decently easy to find if you knew what you were doing.

Tommy didn’t know what he was doing. He had gotten advice two years ago and never had to use it until now.

He made his way to a nearby gas station, purchasing a simple fabric mask first, black, and stuffing it in his pocket. He was down to $45.02 dollars, but he could work with that. Typing in Car Mechanic into the maps app on his phone, Tommy clicked on the closest one and began walking. School must have let out at some point during his walk considering the roads were suddenly populated by highschool students and he’d have to avoid the occasional middle schooler who decided they wanted to speak to him.

The sidewalk he was on ended, and he walked along the edge of the road, glancing at the surrounding buildings, growing sparser as he continued on. He spotted the shop, seemingly at the edge of town with an LED sign and three cars in the parking lot. He recognized the first one immediately, a Toyota Supra. A common racing car. Tommy couldn’t tell if that meant something or if he was reading too much into things.

He took a deep breath at the door, wincing when he realized he forgot his pain meds. Despite the place looking completely empty, he pushed the door open. The LED sign said it was open, anyway.

A bell sounded as he stepped inside, and he heard a brief commotion in the back before someone opened the back door. “Sam! You’re back ear--” The boy paused. “You’re not Sam.” He was short, with floppy brown hair that hung over his face. He looked young, too, probably the same age or younger than Tommy. He wore a green shirt that was buttoned wrong and had grease stains on it, along with jeans. Just the look of him made it seem like he wouldn’t be caught dead at a race.

But what did Tommy know? “I’m not Sam,” he agreed. “The sign said you were open?”

“Oh, uh, yeah, I guess we are open. You’re welcome to look around, and let me know if you need anything.” Music played in the background, not from any speakers in the store, but from whatever was going on in the back. 

Tommy nodded, walking into one of the aisles. He picked up a random part with his left hand, idly turning it over.

“Wait, do you have a car or anything that needs maintenance?” It was clear that the boy wasn’t used to working at the front desk. “Sorry, I’m bad at this.”

“You’re good,” Tommy snorted. “I’m just...looking around. What’s, uh, going on in the back?”

“My friends and I are fixing up a car. Wanna see?”

Tommy blinked. That was easier than expected. “Sure.”

The brunette opened the door, the music becoming much louder as he let Tommy in the back. “I’m Tubbo, by the way.”

“Tommy,” he muttered in response as he passed through the door. It led into a garage, with a few cars inside and the back garage door open. Various parts hung on the wall, along with an entire plastic table that seemed to have junk parts on it. It smelled like gasoline. Tommy had missed it.

In the corner sat a Mustang, hood popped open and in desperate need of a paint job. An old couch was pushed against the wall, two other teenagers seated on top. One with sunglasses and a black and white graphic t-shirt, and the other with blond hair and a magenta hoodie. Both of them paused their conversations, looking at him curiously.

“This is Tommy,” Tubbo introduced. “Don’t mind the car, I'm just fixing it up.”

“I’m Ranboo,” The taller one said. “Nice to meet you.”

“Purpled.”

“Like your sweatshirt?” Tommy asked.

Purpled gave him a deadpan look. “What do you mean?”

Tommy couldn’t tell whether he was joking, but he laughed anyway. He stepped closer, peering inside the vehicle. Sure enough, the interior was much different compared to what a regular Mustang should look like. “You replaced the seats,” he noticed. “You plan on racing this thing?” Neither of them answered him, so Tommy followed Tubbo to the hood, taking a look at the engine. He whistled lowly. “Nice fuel injectors. How much did those cost?”

Silence. Then, Purpled spoke. “Why haven’t I seen you before?”

Tommy shrugged. “I moved.”

“In the middle of the year?” Ranboo asked warily.

“In the middle of the year,” he confirmed. “Closer to the beginning of the year, actually. It’s like, February.”

Tubbo regarded him with a look. “The fuel injectors were $750. I don’t plan on racing it.” The two other boys groaned, but Tommy had a feeling Tubbo was smarter than he seemed. “Why haven’t we seen you around town before? There's only two high schools in the area, man. Everyone knows everyone.”

Tommy hummed. “I’m a foster. Currently being fostered by the Minecrafts, if you’ve heard of them.”

Ranboo tilted his head. “Phil’s adopting again?”

“No, he’s fostering,” Tommy corrected, rolling his eyes. “There’s a difference. I’ll be gone in a few months. I’m just trying to watch a few races before I go. And you clearly know about them.”

“I like him,” Tubbo declared. “I’m gonna tell him.”

Purpled sighed. “Tubbo no.”

“Tubbo yes.” The brunette looked towards Tommy, seating himself on a shelf. “The next race is Friday. We always watch together, so you can come with us. A lot of the seniors are busy cause of college, so we’re expecting to see some new blood.”

Tommy grinned. “Cool.”

“There’s a party afterwards,” Tubbo continued. “And we normally show up there for a few hours before we split. You can come if you’d like. I can also give you a ride if Phil doesn’t know.”

“A ride would be good. So just to be clear, you aren’t racing with this?”

“Hell no. I can drive, but none of us race . I just like cars. My sister races, though. You’ll probably see her Friday, actually. Just look for someone with white hair. And either way, I’m only halfway done tuning this car. It needs a lot more work, and these two don’t help at all.” Tubbo pointed a wrench at the two other teens sitting on the couch.

“We're moral support!” Purpled argued.

Tubbo snorted in response, and Ranboo turned to him. “So you race?”

Tommy smirked. “I’m on bed rest for the next week, but yeah.”

He would race again.

He would.

 --- 

Wilbur didn’t like Tommy.

This was made apparent when Wilbur told him that, later that Monday afternoon. He had gotten back from the garage after exchanging numbers with Tubbo and promising to sit at his lunch table the next day. Maybe Tubbo had grown on him. Maybe.

The same wasn’t to be said about Wilbur.

“I don’t like you,” He spoke, leaning on the doorframe.

Tommy looked up from what he was doing, filling out forms for his return to school, frowning. “Okay? Maybe leave me alone, then?”

“You didn’t let me finish. I don’t like you. My friends are coming over soon, so don’t bother them.”

“I wasn’t planning on it, dickhead,” Tommy shot back. “I have better things to do.”

“Did you eat one of the chocolate puddings in the fridge? The one that was clearly labeled with my name on it?”

Well. Tommy did do that. He was hungry, and Wilbur was apparently doing something after school so he had helped himself. Sue him. “What if I did?”

“I don’t have time for this,” Wilbur groaned. “Don’t do it again.”

He would do it again.

He returned to his forms, re-writing the same information he had been writing for the past twenty minutes. Phil had offered to do it for him, but Tommy was bored and had nothing to do. When he finally finished the last form, he set the papers down and stood up, scanning the room.

His eyes caught on a loose floorboard, and he locked the door before stepping closer, trying to shimmy it open. It loosened with a pop, and Tommy used his phone flashlight to peer inside. It was maybe a foot deep and a meter long, a pretty decent size. He dropped a few granola bars from his backpack inside, along with a few of his other possessions, his disposable camera and the 45 dollars. 

Tommy shifted the floorboard back into place, moved his back pack to the other side of the room and opened his door again. He wasn’t entirely sure whether his possessions would be taken away for screwing up, but he wasn’t about to risk losing one of the most important things he had.

Wilbur passed by the door to get to his room, not paying him any mind. Three teenagers followed him, waving or smiling at Tommy. He waved half heartedly back, moving to close his door. Before he could, another teenager passed him, with short, dyed white hair, blending in with her blonde roots.

She smiled at him. “Hi, you must be Tommy, right?”

A beat. “Yeah. Who are you?”

“Oh, I’m Niki.” She stuck her hand out for a handshake. “I’m Tubbo’s sister. He mentioned a new kid who was a foster, but I didn’t put the pieces together until now,” she laughed lightly. There was a slight accent to her words.

He shook her hand, not entirely sure of what else Tubbo mentioned to her. “Nice to meet you.”

“Same. See you later.” She waved and disappeared past the doorway. 

Tommy waited a few seconds before he stepped out, closing the door behind him. The sun had set over an hour ago, and the hall light was off. Phil was somewhere in his study, so he made his way to the kitchen.

His pain meds were somewhere in here, and he began opening random drawers. His original plan was to wait until it was night, but he figured he should take the opportunity while he could. 

Twenty dollars sat by a computer, along with more clutter. Tommy tucked it behind the computer, barely in sight. If it was still there after a few days, he would pocket it. They were rich enough, anyway.

He found a small cupboard with other pill bottles and medicines. Most of it was regular cough syrup and Advil, but he saw some ADHD meds inside. He ignored all of it, picking up the orange bottle near the front and dropping a pill into his palm. He pocketed the rest, standing up and closing the cupboard. 

Tommy swallowed the pill, immediately coughing when he turned around to be met with Technoblade.

The man looked as boring as ever, with a deadpan expression that he was beginning to think he always wore. “You aren’t addicted, or anything, right?”

Tommy blinked. “These are prescribed.”

“Sure they are.”

“They are. It’s just painkillers.”

Techno gave him a look. “Painkillers are addicting. Does Phil know you’re taking those?”

Tommy rolled his eyes, “Yes, like I said. They’re prescribed.” Techno continued to stare at him. It was a little unnerving, if he was honest. “What, you want one or something?”

Techno shook his head. Thankfully, considering Tommy hadn’t actually thought it through if Techno actually wanted it. “I’m just making sure you don't touch anything else. And leave the rest in the cupboard, Phil likes keeping all the medicine in the same place.”

Ah, so the Adderall was Technoblade's. Good to know, he supposed. Tommy sent him a glare but complied, setting the orange bottle where he found it.

Techno stayed in his spot, by the doorway, so Tommy pushed past him, returning to his room.

Chapter Text

The alarm went off, and Tommy pressed the button easily, staying in bed. His good sleep had apparently only lasted a day, considering he woke up at 4 AM and couldn’t fall back asleep.

He got up with a sigh, stepping into the bathroom.

Downstairs, both Techno and Wilbur were seated at the dining table, sluggishly eating Lucky Charms, with Phil bustling around. He didn’t entirely know why Phil was even up, considering he worked at home, but he spoke to his kids intermittently, getting unenthusiastic responses.

“Tommy! Good morning.”

He waved in lieu of a response, picking up a slice of bread. Both Wilbur and Technoblade ignored him.

“Are you sure you don’t want jam or anything?” Phil asked. Techno got up, muttering something about his backpack before walking out of sight. “I think we have some nutella in the pantry.”

He shook his head. “My friend’s picking me up soon.” One of Dream’s friends had to get to class early, which made Tommy wake up early. But the alternative would be sitting in Wilbur or Technoblade’s car, which was much worse. He could deal with the early alarm for now.

“Wil!” Techno’s voice yelled from the front of the house.

Wilbur stood up, following him until it was just him and Phil in the room. “Alright, just let me know if you need anything. We’ve also got a grocery list on the fridge that you can add anything--”

Tommy’s phone beeped, and he swallowed the last bite of bread as he read the message. “I have to go now. My ride’s here.”

Phil wasn’t deterred by his interruption, immediately saying, “Okay, bye Tommy! Have fun in school!” 

He walked out, glancing at Wilbur and Techno, who were standing in front of one of the windows, whispering. Neither of them paid him any mind, so opened the door, walking down the driveway to Dream’s car, which was parked by the curb.

He opened the back door, music immediately being blasted outside. “Hey Dre--”

“Your brother’s are Wilbur and Technoblade? ” Sapnap interrupted. 

“Foster brothers,” Dream corrected. “And Jesus, let the kid breathe.” He caught his eye in the mirror. “But Phil’s actually fostering you?”

Tommy blinked. “You guys know Phil?”

“Well, I mean...Everyone kind of knows Phil. He’s cool. I’m a bit more concerned about Techno,” Dream answered.

“What about him?”

Sapnap answered this time. “He’s a dick. Arrogant, and he acts like he’s better than everyone. He and Dream are like arch nemesises. Arch nemesi?”

“Nemeses, I think it is.” Dream pulled to a stop, turning the music down to talk. “And that’s a little harsh. We just...don’t get along. At all.”

Sapnap snorted. “Remember when you lost?”

“ Sapnap. ”

Tommy glanced around. “Lost what?”

“It’s nothing,” Dream waved off. “Now that that's done, Sapnap, Tommy, Tommy, Sapnap.”

Sapnap turned in his seat, grinning. He wore a black hoodie with flames on the arms, and he looked older than the last picture Dream had shown him. “Hi Tommy. Nice to finally put a face to a name. Dream talks about you all the time.”

Tommy grinned back, ignoring Dream’s exclaims. “Nice to meet you too. And of course he does, I’m great.”

“Oh shut--” Dream cut himself off, pulling to a stop in front of another house. Tommy had a feeling the entire town was made for rich people. “George!”

George scowled. “Why were you so late, dumbass?” He glanced at Tommy and Sapnap, nodding at the two of them as he adjusted his backpack, before his eyes did a double take. “Wait, Tommy? This is Tommy?”

“Hi.”

Dream laughed. “Yeah, this is Tommy. Meet George Found.” He wore a turquoise jumper over a white collared shirt, and white rimmed sunglasses sat on his hair.

“George Not Found,” He corrected with an eye roll. “Nice to meet you though.”

“Likewise.”

Sapnap laughed loudly. “You won’t even believe who he’s being fostered by. The Minecrafts. ”

George twisted around to face Tommy. “Like Wilbur? And Technoblade?”

“I’m assuming you don’t know any other Technoblade’s...”

“Get out of the road!” Dream yelled randomly, making Tommy jump. He honked a few times before pulling into his parking spot. “ God . Freshman are so annoying. ” The four of them stepped out of the car, Dream still staring at the pale freshman. A few other people approached them, and Dream turned to Tommy, lowering his voice, “Are you gonna need a ride back?”

Tommy shook his head. “Nah, I think I’ll walk home. See the town and all.”

“Cool, cool. Just let me know if you’ll need a ride and I can pick you up. Make sure to check the weather, too.”

He sent a quick nod as a response, turning to leave. More people were walking over, and Tommy didn’t have the energy for introductions. He had seen pictures of both George and Sapnap, Dream’s closest friends, multiple times before, but he didn’t doubt that most of Dream’s other friends had no idea who he was.

He headed to the front office, met with a man in an outfit far too formal to be working at a highschool. After giving him his name and a few forms, Tommy was given a sheet of paper with his schedule and a map of the school. He set a picture to Dream before stepping outside.

Loud voices filled the hallways, despite it being over fifteen minutes before school officially started. He wandered through the halls, no one paying him any mind. He knew the drill. Avoiding was always the best way to go. Tommy had experience, considering he had been the new kid over 15 times before.

He would avoid everyone, staying under the radar. Stay out of the way of bullies, and go unnoticed. Tommy tended to find a few acquaintances, people to sit with at lunch, talk to in classes. They never got too close, keeping their topics light and conversations in school. Sometimes a group of popular kids would find him funny and let him stick around. Sometimes a group of kids would find him annoying and try to make his life hell.

Sometimes he would make real friends. Those were far and few in between, and to count, he had made six to date. He hadn’t spoken to any of them in months.

He hoped they were doing alright.

Dream’s reply came a few moments later. 

Tommy: :1 Attachment:

Dream: ok so mortensons pretty good, i had her for science last year and shes a super easy grader. lopez can't teach for shit but she doesnt care at all abt late assignments and idk abt the rest

Dream: also sapnap says that mr johnson is a bitch tho

Tommy sent him a reply, pocketing his phone. The first bell rang, and both the noise level and the number of people increased tenfold. He was beginning to feel terribly claustrophobic, hating the feeling of everyone so close. Tommy--

--wasn’t claustrophobic anymore. Someone had grabbed his arm, pulling him out of the crowd. Technoblade. And beside him stood Wilbur. Neither of them looked happy to see him.

Normally, foster siblings of their types would ignore or pretend he didn’t exist during school hours, but there was a first time for everything.

“How do you know Dream?”

“Straight to the point, huh?” Tommy asked drily. “He’s a friend of mine.”

“Ok, but how do you know him? ” Techno repeated.

Tommy frowned. “I don’t really see how that’s any of your business.”

“Look,” Wilbur glared. “Phil wants us to make sure that you’re safe during school hours. And Dream? Not safe.”

Tommy might have found the situation funny. He had known Dream since Puffy became his social worker, back when he was 11 and Dream was 14. “ Right . I’m going to class now.”

As much as he didn’t want to, he stepped back into the throng of students, leaving the two of them behind. 

Tommy navigated to class easily, finding Purpled inside, waving him over. “Tommy. Over here.”

He took a seat next to Purpled, dropping his things onto the desk. “Hey.”

“Hey. By the way, Tubbo wanted me to invite you to the garage after school. If you’re not doing anything.”

Tommy paused at that. “Really?”

“It sounds like you know your shit, so he wants your input on the car,” Purpled continued. “You can also sit with us at lunch, if you want.”

That was...easier than expected. He didn’t want to impose on Dream and his friends, and his original plan was to just buy something from the shopping complex nearby. “Uh, yeah, sure. Sounds good.”

Sounds good.

--- 

The four of them approached from the back, Tubbo pulling out a set of keys which he used to unlock the back door before stepping inside and flipping the light on, even though the sunlight from outside was more than enough to fill the room.

They split up naturally, Tubbo immediately leaving through the door that connected to the shop, Ranboo flopping onto the couch as Purpled moved to the fridge. It was routine; one that Tommy wasn’t a part of. Ranboo must have seen him standing in the middle of the room, nodding for him to join the (unfortunately) taller boy on the couch.

“You can sit down, if you want. Want anything to drink?”

Tommy shrugged. “What do you guys have?”

“Water, lemonade, Sprite, Coke, Pepsi, Fant--”

“A coke is good, thanks.” 

Ranboo nodded, relaying the order to Purpled who sent back a thumbs up as he dug through the contents of the fridge. The couch he was seated on was old. It might have been white once upon a time, but it was currently a shade of cream, and had odd patches supposedly covering up rips. Ranboo leaned over the end of the couch, connecting his phone to a small speaker, playing music that Tommy had never heard before. It was a lot quieter than earlier, and he briefly wondered if it was because of him. It probably was.

Although he felt just a little bit uncomfortable with the fact that he was messing up their usual routine, he couldn’t help but feel glad. He didn’t like loud noises.

Tubbo returned from the shop rapidly typing on his phone. “Okay, Sam says he’ll be here in thirty minutes. He’s running late cause of his professor or something.”

“Sam?” Tommy asked.

Purpled returned with their drinks, tossing a coke can to Tommy, a water to Tubbo, and a lemonade to Ranboo, leaving himself with a water bottle. “Sam’s a senior in college. He’s the one that runs this place.”

Ranboo continued, “Yeah, he’s cool. He was big on the racing scene before he graduated, being the main mechanic. He’s basically training Tubbo for the role now that he’s graduating college this year.”

“The main mechanic? How organized is this, exactly?” He stood up as Tubbo popped the hood of the Mustang, joining him.

Ranboo shook his head. “Not that organized. I don’t think, at least. But two of the seniors, Karl and Quackity sort of commentate. Schlatt handles the bets--”

“Unless he’s getting high, then Eret takes over,” Tubbo interrupted.

“--and Callahan’s basically a bodyguard. He doesn’t talk, but he’s cool.”

“Mhm,” Tommy nodded, tucking away the information. “What about the racers?”

Ranboo glanced between Purpled and Tubbo before speaking. “I...don’t know, actually. A lot of the racers from last year are seniors now, so they haven’t been showing up to races recently. I know Niki’s still racing, Tubbo’s sister.”

“So is Jack Manifold,” Purpled chimed in, opening a chips bag. “And Connor, I think. And Fundy and Ant.”

Tommy nodded. He had sat next to a Jack Manifold in one of his classes that day, and he seemed alright.

“So,” Tubbo began. “Was that you today morning?” Tommy tilted his head quizzically before Tubbo clarified. “Getting out of Dream’s car?”

“Uh, yeah that was me. Why is that such a big deal, a few other people mentioned it?”

Purpled snorted. “Dream’s, like, popular . But he and Techno do not get along.”

Tommy thought back to the three separate people telling him that Dream and Techno didn’t get along. He was beginning to think Dream and Techno didn’t get along.

“I think I’m starting to see that, yeah,” Tommy said, his words thinly veiled with sarcasm.

Tubbo noticed, laughing. “Just don’t expect Dream to get along with your brothers and you’ll be fine. To be honest, they aren’t normally in the same room, so you’ll probably be alright. Pass me the oil.”

Tommy complied. “They’re not my brothers. Just fosters.”

“Right, sorry. Foster brothers,” Tubbo corrected. “I just need to upgrade the exhaust system and I think it’ll be ready.”

“And the cold air intake,” Tommy added. “That won’t take long, though.”

Tubbo snapped his fingers, pulling off his gloves to check his phone. “Shit, you’re right. I think we already have the parts for that.” He moved to the table of spare parts, glancing over them for a few seconds before turning back to Tommy. “I’ve been meaning to ask, but how’d you break your wrist?”

“Tubbo,” Ranboo chided from the other side of the room, despite looking a bit curious himself. Purpled, who had pulled out a laptop and a textbook, glanced up too.

Tommy figured it was a little too soon to let them know that he was essentially just stepped on. It didn’t make him look too good either. “Eh,” he waved off with his other hand. “Sports and shit.”

“Sports and shit?” Tubbo repeated.

“Yeah,” Tommy nodded, building upon his story. “One of my friends accidentally stepped on it when I fell. Fractured in two places.”

“Damn,” Tubbo whistled. “I didn’t even know wrists could get broken that easily.”

Purpled shrugged. “Actually, bones are pretty easy to break. Can’t you bite off your pinkie if you tried hard enough? Like with the force of a carrot or something?”

Ranboo scoffed, “Oh god I hate that fact, it’s been disproven, like, multiple times. Like back in 2018--”

The store bell rang once, and Tubbo grinned, interrupting ranboo’s tangent. “Sam’s here.”

Sure enough, a few seconds later, a man walked through the door. He was tall, taller than Tommy, making him wonder what they had in the water here. He wore a college sweatshirt that Tommy didn’t recognize, and his hair was dyed green at the tips. “Hey guys.” He looked at Tommy, cocking his head. “Hi. I’m Sam.”

Tubbo introduced him before he got the chance to. “This is Tommy. He’s new. He’s also being fostered by the Minecraft’s.” 

“The Minecraft’s, huh?” Sam mused. “Do you race, by any chance?”

Once again, Tubbo answered for him. “Yup. He knows his shit, too.”

“Maybe let the kid speak,” Sam laughed.

Tommy smiled. “Yeah, I learned when I just turned 15 or so. So about a year now.”

Sam whistled lowly, walking to the fridge. “Pretty young, huh? You got a car?”

He shook his head. “It's a bit hard to have a car when you’re a foster.” A beat. “I used my sister’s car when I first started,” he added.

“Sister?” Purpled asked.

“Foster sister,” Tommy corrected. They never did get around to signing those adoption papers, did they?

Sam nodded, twisting open a water bottle. “So you’re coming to the race this Friday, then?”

Tommy nodded. “Yup.”

“Does that mean Techno’s coming? I haven’t seen him in a bit, it would be good to catch up.”

Tubbo coughed, interrupting Tommy before he could speak. “We’re taking him, actually.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. Anyways , Sam,” Ranboo said, standing up. “Shouldn’t you be at the front? Taking care of customers?”

“We don’t have any-- What’re you--” Ranboo pushed him out of the room, back the way he came. When he returned, he clapped his hands together. “Anyways.”

Tommy stared between him and Tubbo. The silence lasted too long for it to be casual, the only noise being the crunch of Purpled’s chips and the small whir of the fan.

Tubbo turned sharply back to the car. “Do you know anything about exhaust systems?”

A nod.

“Great, come help me out, then.”

Tommy blinked, hesitating a few seconds before following him.

Chapter Text

It was still light out when he returned, finishing the entire outfitting of the exhaust system with Tubbo. They worked pretty well together, as the two of them tended to go silent when concentrating on things, barely listening to Ranboo and Purpled’s comments from the couch. 

He was halfway up the driveway when another car pulled in, causing him to veer to the side to avoid getting hit. He cursed under his breath as the car passed him and parked in the now opened garage.

Wilbur got out of the vintage Aston Martin, because of course it was Wilbur. He leaned on the outside of the car, swiping on his phone. Tommy walked into the garage, ignoring Wilbur. He would have made a comment about how shitty a driver Wilbur was, or just how he was a dick, but he held his tongue. It was six o’clock, and Tommy was tired , sue him.

Before he could open the garage door, it opened itself, Technoblade stepping outside and closing it. He stood in front of the door, crossing his arms. 

Tommy stepped back a few steps in surprise, stopping before he ran into Wilbur’s car. “Uh, Techno, can I go inside?”

Techno paid him no mind. “Where were you, Wil?”

Wilbur looked up from his phone, pocketing it. He didn’t look happy. “Out with friends. Why?”

Techno persisted. “Which friends?”

“ My friends, Techno. You wouldn’t know them.”

Something about that was a sore subject, considering the way Techno’s displeased face turned into a glare. Tommy decided he didn’t want to be here for this. “You mind if you stop blocking the door so I could leave whatever augment you guys are about to have?”

“It was Schlatt, wasn’t it?” Techno asked instead of moving.

“Does it matter?” Wilbur asked tiredly. Techno continued staring at him with his arms crossed. “Yes, it was Schlatt, is that what you wanted to hear?”

Schlatt. Didn’t Tubbo mention him? Something about drugs, right? “Schlatt’s the one that does drugs, right?” He asked.

Wilbur sent him a murderous glare, and Tommy realized that maybe he shouldn’t have said that one. “Shut up, Tomm--”

“Schlatt does drugs?” Techno asked. “Are you doing drugs? Is that what this is?”

“ Oh my god, he’s talking about weed , Tech. Not fucking heroin,” Wilbur spat. “And no, I’m not doing drugs with Schlatt. Just get off my back, already.”

“Wilbur--”

Techno’s voice was cut off when Phil spoke from inside the house. “Techno? Is Wilbur back yet?”

Techno sent Wilbur one last glare before opening the door, leaning in so Phil could hear his voice. “He’s here. So is Tommy.”

Tommy followed Techno through the door and into the kitchen, where Phil was cooking. He wondered how much he heard. After a few moments as Tommy struggled to get his shoes off, Wilbur finally followed him inside, closing the garage door.

“Hi Tommy, hi Wilbur,” Phil smiled, clearly having absolutely no idea what just went on outside. Tommy had no idea either, to be honest. “We normally have fa-dinner together, just because everyone’s schedule is so busy nowadays, and we normally don’t get to spend much time together. Would you like to join us?”

The question was directed at Tommy, but it was Wilbur who answered. “No, Tommy said he was pretty tired. Actually, I was thinking of having dinner in my room, too--”

Now, Tommy didn’t get opportunities like that everyday. Yes, he was tired, but it would so be worth it. And if Wilbur beat him up later, then that would be worth it too. Phil was halfway through areeing when Tommy spoke up. “Actually, I’m not tired at all. And I think dinner together would be wonderful. ” He looked back to Wilbur, who glowered back at him. “I’d love to do some brotherly bonding. ” 

That was it for Wilbur. The senior stalked off, harshly knocking into Tommy’s shoulder as he passed. “I’m just dropping my backpack in my room,” he called, storming up the stairs and slamming the door.

Tommy smirked, looking back at Phil. Phil wasn’t dumb, clearly, considering he had a pained look on his face, obviously knowing that Tommy was purposefully antagonizing Wilbur. He smiled anyway, leading Tommy to the dining table and returning to the stove, turning it off.

Techno dropped into the seat beside him, frowning at him. “Seriously?”

Tommy matched his volume, almost at a whisper. “What?” He asked innocently.

Technoblade rolled his eyes, looking back at the table. Phil returned a few minutes later with a large pot of pasta, setting it in the center of the table. Techno stood up to get water for everyone, and Tommy stayed in his seat, tapping his foot.

Wilbur returned, looking no less annoyed than earlier. He sat across from Tommy, Phil taking the empty seat on Tommy's left.

“So, Tommy,” Phil began. “How was your first day?”

The pasta tasted good. Surprisingly, considering Phil didn’t look like the type to cook. He swallowed before opening his mouth. “It was alright.”

“Did you make any friends?”

Technically he met Tubbo, Ranboo, and Purpled before he started school. “I guess,” he settled on.

“He’s friends with Dream, ” Wilbur drawled, taking a sip of water.

Whatever effect Wilbur was intending didn’t occur. Instead, Phil snapped his fingers in recognition. “Oh, Dream Taken. You two were friends in middle school, right?”

Techno stiffened, speaking curtly, “Yes.”

“He was a good kid,” Phil hummed. “It’ll be nice to see him again.”

“Of course you think that,” Wilbur muttered under his breath. 

Tommy smirked as he shoved more pasta into his mouth. He didn’t even need to do anything.

Phil stilled, the smile frozen on his face. “What do you mean? I only knew Dream when you three were in middle school, so if there’s anything I misse--”

“Oh, no,” Wilbur said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Dream’s a great kid. He’s fucking amazing, isn’t he?”

Finally, fucking finally , Phil’s smile dropped. “Wilbur, if--”

Tommy interrupted him this time. “Actually, I agree with Wilbur, 100 percent. Dream’s great. You know, he let me send him a picture of my schedule so he could tell me about the teachers that he knew. He gave me a bunch of tips, too.”

Wilbur harshly put his glass of water back on the table, a few droplets spilling off the side. “ God, do you ever shut up? This doesn’t even concern you.”

“Wilbur!” Phil said sharply.

Tommy smirked. If Wilbur wanted to piss him off, he shouldn’t have used the same two words Tommy had been hearing his entire life. He would have to try harder for that. “No, he’s right. This doesn’t concern me. I’ll leave you to it.”

Techno was glaring at his pasta like it had personally wronged him. Phil’s gaze was switching between Wilbur and Techno warily, looking terribly confused. Wilbur’s eyes were still trained on him as Tommy got up, setting his plate in the kitchen sink.

He walked out of the room, hearing Techno begin to speak for the first time that dinner, sounding pissed off. Or, at least, more pissed off than usual.

His job was done.

 --- 

Tommy didn’t know if all Minecraft family dinners took that long, or if it was a special occasion, considering he could hear yelling for a good half an hour after he left. The vents in his room connected directly to the dining room, meaning he could pick up on a few words if he tried. He could’ve sworn he heard Schlatt’s name being said at some point, and it was around then when he got bored and turned to his phone.

Tommy got up from his spot on the floor, crouching by the loose floorboard. He hadn’t gotten enough pasta due to his dramatic exit, and he was regretting it now. Not the dramatic exit, because that was pretty fucking cool, but the way he didn’t think to grab anything on the way. 

He finished the granola bar quickly, opening his door to throw the wrapper away. Just his luck, he had barely opened the door before he was face to face with Wilbur.

Well, not face to face . Wilbur stood a good couple yards away, stepping up the stairs. Both of them paused as they caught sight of the other, before Tommy forced himself to keep walking to the bathroom door.

When he turned around, Wilbur was actually in his face. “Let’s get two things straight.”

Tommy stayed quiet, a cool glare on his face. He wasn’t stupid. Phil wouldn't have let anything get too physical when they all were together, and he figured that Techno and Wilbur had too much respect for Phil to try to pull something. But he knew firsthand how easy it was for a sibling to go from a type B to a type C when he antagonized them. Especially when they were the only two on the floor.

“Dream isn’t your fucking friend. I don’t know what he wants from you, from us, but he’s in some shady shit. And he’ll pull everyone near him down, because that’s the type of person he is.”

“Wow, Wilbur. Thanks for looking out for me,” Tommy deadpanned.

“And that’s my next point. I don’t care about you.” Tommy probably couldn’t count the number of times he had heard that on two hands. “If Phil has to bail you out of whatever Dream gets you into, then he’ll get pissed at me and Techno. We aren’t brothers, and we’ll never be brothers. You’re--”

“Wil,” Techno’s voice spoke firmly from the top of the stairs. “Come on.”

Wilbur sent him one last glare before stepping into Technoblades room, Techno himself following without sparing Tommy a second glance.

Well.

They had made up quick.

He had categorized Techno early on as a 3, someone who really didn’t mind or care about Tommy. He was normally ecstatic to have type 3 siblings. Being left alone was great. But he and Wilbur seemed close, despite their argument, so whatever happened, Techno would be on Wilbur’s side. 

Even if Wilbur decided to make Tommy’s life hell. 

He wondered what it was like to have loyalty like that.

 --- 

On Wednesdays, Tommy had almost every class with Tubbo. Save for math, first thing in the morning, his entire day was filled with Tubbo, who Tommy recently found out was older than him. Disgusting. 

“Anyways, I think Chemistry fucking sucks. Like I was good at chem up until this year, I swear. Like the first thing we learned was significant figures, and I still don’t know how to do that.”

Tommy wrinkled his nose. “Significant figures?”

Tubbo let out a laugh. “Oh god, you’re in for a treat. Like every time you do math, you have to shorten your final answer. I don't even know how you shorten it, I’ve been guessing this entire time.”

This would be interesting. He and Tubbo walked into the room, and he followed Tubbo to one of the seats in the back. The room looked like a regular science classroom, with a multitude of lab desks seating two all facing the front. Mr. Johnson stood at the back of the class, behind his desk. 

Tubbo continued ranting about significant figures, waving his hands theatrically. A student kept looking between Tubbo and Tommy, specifically the desk, with a confused look on his face. He… might have stolen some kids' spots, but Tubbo wasn’t saying anything so he wouldn’t either. Along with that student, a few other teens sent him a few glances, nothing he was unused to considering the number of schools he had been to. 

The bell rang, and Mr. Johnson moved to the front of the class, motioning for the room to quiet down. “So apparently we have a new student today! Thomas Innit?” His eyes glanced around the room, coming to rest on Tommy when he raised his hand. 

“Hi. Mr. Johnson,” he said, attempting to keep the boredom out of his voice. Sapnap had warned him that he was a bitch but he didn’t entirely know what that entailed. 

“Great! Why don’t you introduce yourself to the class?”

Ok, so that’s what it entailed. He stood up. “Hi. I go by Tommy, and I moved here from the county over.”

“Alright Thomas, you can take a seat now.” Mr. Johnson began going over announcements, ending whatever spiel he was on with, “Is everyone ready for the quiz? Get your pencils out.”

Tommy blinked. The class collectively groaned, backpacks rustling as everyone looked for a pencil. He raised his hand as Mr. Johnson passed him, speaking over the chatter. “Uh, is there any way I could take the quiz at a later date?” He asked politely. “I missed out on a lot during the move.”

Mr. Johnson furrowed his brows, and he had the type of face in which the action made his entire face wrinkle. “What was the last thing you learned?”

“Um.” Tommy had no idea. Chemistry wasn’t the biggest thing on his mind due to what was going on at the foster home, and his stint in the hospital didn’t help. It should have been written in his notes, or something, right? “Atoms?”

Johnson frowned. “Very funny. Both our counties follow similar syllabi, so you should be able to follow along.”

And before Tommy could speak, a paper was placed in front of him, face down. 

When he flipped it over, it was a mess of moles and equations, none of it making any sense to Tommy. 

Great. 

 --- 

“Mr. Innit, could I see you after class please?”

Tubbo sent him a sympathetic smile as he left, standing outside the door. He had tried to let Tommy look at his paper, but the questions were graded on work, not just answers, so Tommy gave up halfway through. He figured he would explain his situation to the teacher and hopefully leave without an F. 

He stepped in front of the desk, opening his mouth to speak. 

“I noticed that your paper was blank.” 

Well, it wasn’t completely blank. “I put my name and the date in,” he offered. 

He received a dry look in response. “I'm sure you see yourself as quite the jokester. And, it’s the 6th of November, not the 4th.”

Tommy blinked. Whoops. “Okay, well for the rest of the quiz, I didn't really know any of it.”

“So you gave up?”

He frowned. “Yeah, I gave up . It didn’t make any sense to me. Like I told you before the quiz, I haven’t learned any of it before.”

“Well, I got the chance to take a look at your transcript from your last school--“ Perfect. The fact that he was a foster was surely written in there somewhere. “--And I actually know the teacher you had. Ms. Keys is a lovely teacher, so I’m wondering why you had a C- in her class, because I know for a fact she teaches well.” 

What was he even supposed to respond to that with? “I had personal things going on.”

“Everyone has personal things, Tommy. Whatever drama you’re going through doesn’t mean you can slack off in your schoolwork.”

Tommy narrowed his eyes. “Whatever. I’ll study next time, or something.”

“That's not all, I’d like you to do quiz corrections and catch up on some of the work you missed when you weren’t at school” He slid a paper over to Tommy. A paper with an entire list of assignments to complete. 

“I can't do all of this. I have other classes and—“

“This isn’t optional, Mr. Innit.”

“Then fail me. I’m not doing all this shit on top of the rest of my work.”

Mr. Johnson glared at him, standing up. Tommy would be lying if he said he didn’t flinch at the sudden movement. “I’ve had it up to here with your attitude. Maybe you can think about it in detention.”

“For what? ” He asked incredulously. “I seriously don’t have time for this!”

“Would you like for me to make it tomorrow, too? Maybe you’ll learn something about respect!”

Tommy grabbed the piece of paper, balling it up and throwing it in the trash on the way out.

Chapter Text

“Seriously Tommy? It’s your second day here.”

Tommy groaned, tugging on his backpack straps. “I know , Dream. My science teacher was being a bitch.”

“Mr. Johnson?” Dream began walking, and so did Tommy. “That’s the one that Sapnap—“

“ God ,” Sapnap interrupted. “ Such a bitch.”

“Yeah,” Tommy agreed. “Anyways, I don’t know where to go for detention and I figured you would’ve gotten it at some point or another.”

Dream sent him a crooked grin. “Me? Detention? I’m literally the best student ever.” He turned to George and Sapnap. “I’m taking this loser to detention, meet me by my car when I get back.”

Both Sapnap and George replied and waved before leaving along with the fray of students exiting the building. 

“You better remember the route, I have a feeling you’ll be coming here often.”

“Me? Detention?” Tommy parroted. “You must be mistaken.”

Dream laughed, turning the corner. 

“Anyways, so what’s detention like here?” Tommy had been to schools where detention consisted of just being stuck in a room for an hour, and ones where he was forced to give up his phone and write essays. 

“Not too bad,” Dream replied. “Not that I would know, cause I’ve never gotten detention in my entire life like the good student I am, but…” He paused as Tommy laughed. “They let you keep your phone, but you aren’t allowed to use it or anything and you just work on school work. The teacher leaves half the time, so you can do whatever then.” They turned another corner. “We’re here.” 

The door was already open, and they both looked inside. There were a few other students inside, 15 at most, all spread out over thirty singular desks facing forward. The teacher hadn’t arrived yet, so the classroom was filled with chatter.

He didn’t recognize any of the students besides the one in the front, closest to the door. “Technoblade?”

Techno pulled out an earbud, looking up. “What are you doing here?” His eyes glanced past Tommy to Dream. 

Tommy held up a slip of paper. “Detention.” He couldn’t tell if Techno was the type to never get in trouble, or the type to always get in trouble, but he thought he had it figured out now. 

Dream set a hand on Tommys shoulder, finally tearing his eyes from Techno to him. “Okay…I’m gonna go now. Text me if you need a ride.”

Before he could respond, Technoblade interrupted, “I can take him.”

“You don’t have to,” Dream said. “It’s no hassle.” His voice was lighthearted, but Tommy knew that if he could, he’d be glaring. 

Techno had no such qualms about appearances, making the few students in the room look over. “I’m sure it’s no hassle at all. But Phil wouldn’t want me letting Tommy get a ride from a stranger--”

“I’m no stranger and you know it.”

“--and besides. I don't trust your driving skills.”

“You don’t trust my driving skills? ” Dream asked incredulously. “Oh come on .”

Tommy stepped forwards before anything else could be said. “Look at the time, Sapnap and George are waiting, time to go, time to go,” He said, ushering Dream out the door. 

“You’ll text me—“

“—text you if I need anything.” Tommy smiled lightly. “I know.”

Dream sighed, sending one final glance into the detention room. “My little Tommy, all grown up and going to detention,” he pouted, ruffling Tommy’s hair.

Tommy rolled his eyes, batting the hand away. “Oh, shut up and leave. See you later.”

“Later,” Dream saluted before turning around.

Tommy stepped back into the classroom, looking around warily for a moment before sitting down on Techno’s left. He pulled out his phone, aimlessly scrolling through it for a few minutes before setting it face down on the desk in front of him.

A teacher walked in after a few minutes, introducing herself as Ms. Symmetry, and she went on a spiel about behavior and tardies before having everyone sign a piece of paper and leaving the room, like Dream said.

The room became louder once more, and Tommy dropped his head onto his desk. Not that he particularly wanted to, but he wouldn’t have been able to focus on homework if he could. He picked up his pencil, absentmindedly twirling it in his hands, the way he had begged his foster sister to show him because he thought it looked cool.

“So how long have you known Dream?”

The pencil clattered to the desk, and Tommy turned to face Techno, scowling. “None of your business.”

“Jesus, I’m just making small talk. Wilbur and I were under the impression that you met him recently, but that’s not true, is it?” Techno had a way of making himself sound smarter than everyone in the room. He only asked questions he already knew the answer to.

“It’s not.” Tommy spoke slowly, for once in his life, thinking through what he said before he said it. “I’ve known him for a while.”

“You haven’t lived here before, though...” Techno drawled. “Maybe extracurriculars? Or family?”

Tommy didn’t react, but Techno smirked anyway. “So childhood friends or something. I’m surprised I haven’t met you before, actually.”

“What, exactly, are you trying to get out of this?” Tommy finally asked.

“Small talk.”

“Right.”

There was a bout of silence until it was broken a few minutes later. This time by Tommy.

“So,” he said with a sigh. “What did you get detention for?”

“Skipping class,” came Techno’s reply. “I don’t normally get detention, though.”

He simultaneously didn’t seem like the type to get detention at all, while also seeming like he was in the room every other week. “Really?”

Techno smirked. “I normally don’t get caught. What are you here for?”

Tommy flipped the slip of paper right side up, reading off the words scribbled at the bottom. “ Issues with attitude and refusal to complete work. ”

“I could see that. You just decided to not do work?”

“I left a quiz blank ‘cause I didn’t know what the fuck it was talking about,” Tommy spat.

Techno raised his hands in defence. “Hey, I never said it was your fault. What teacher?”

“Johnson. For science.”

“Oh, I had Johnson in freshman year.” Techno sat up straighter, tapping his chin. “Once he makes up his mind about something, he’ll go on about it for ages, and at that point it's best to just nod along. But he’s also one of those teachers that’ll go on a tangent about anything if you ask them a few questions about it. Ask him about birds, I think. I swear he was really into Purple Martins or something.”

Tommy blinked. That was surprisingly helpful. More helpful than he’s a bitch , as Sapnap had mentioned. “Thanks.”

Techno huffed. “You don’t have to sound so surprised. Gimme your schedule, I'll see if I had any more of your teachers.”

 --- 

Detention passed decently quickly, and Tommy stood up after the bell rang, Ms. Symmetry distractedly waving as he followed the rest of the students outside. 

“Need a ride?”

Tommy paused. Although he knew exactly what Dream would say, he didn’t want to bother him, and he and Techno were going to the same place either way. “Yeah, thanks.” He sent a quick text to Dream, slipping his new phone back into his pocket carefully. It still didn’t have a case, and Tommy was hyperaware everytime he took it out in crowded settings.

He followed Techno into the parking lot, walking up to a black Chevrolet Camero. In the three days Tommy had been staying at the Minecrafts’, he had never seen Techno’s car. It wasn’t in the garage when he walked through, and he never had any need to go to the garage any other time. It was gorgeous, without a single scratch on the body, the black paint job shining.

“Holy shit,” Tommy muttered. 

Techno grinned, almost pridefully. “You like it?”

God , Tommy wanted to take a look at the engine so badly, but he refrained, opening the door once Techno unlocked it. “Yeah, nice car. Is it new?” He resisted from running a hand over the leather interior. 

Technoblade adjusted the mirror, “Mhm. Just got her last month or so.” Being rich seemed really fucking fun. “Bought her myself.”

“Yourself?” Tommy echoed. 

“Yup. Sold my Dodge for her.” He fumbled with the aux cord, plugging it in. Soon, a song that barely sounded familiar played through the speakers quietly. “Her name’s Anarchy. ” Techno’s eyes glittered. Tommy didn’t know much about the senior, but the name seemed pretty on-brand. 

“Cool name.” Techno, also, seemed a lot cooler now. “You into cars?”

“You could say that,” Techno responded offhandedly. “You?”

“I guess so,” Tommy said. 

“Cool. Wilbur’s not into cars that much. He likes his vintage ones and that’s it.”

Oh. 

There was something implied in that last sentence, but Tommy didn’t feel like figuring it out.

 --- 

Phil greeted the two of them at the door, coffee in hand. “How was school?”

Techno made a noncommittal noise, waving him off and digging through his backpack. 

Phil turned to Tommy. 

“Alright, I guess.” Did he know about the detention? Tommy didn’t know how schools operated here. 

“So the school called today.”

Fuck. He probably should have seen that coming.

Tommy stiffened, glancing at Techno who was already halfway out the foyer. He was alone. His backpack weighed against his shoulders, but he stayed silent, rooted in place. 

Phil continued. “They said you got detention.”

“Mhm.”

“So do you wanna tell me what that was about?”

Tommy swallowed, not meeting Phil’s eyes. “Didn’t they already tell you?”

“I’d like to hear it from you.”

Well then. “Uh, my science teacher didn’t like that I didn’t know what the quiz was on. I left it blank, and he said I had attitude problems.”

“A quiz? On your first day?”

Tommy nodded stiffly. 

“Does he know your situation? I mean, I’m sure being in the hospital would excuse that.” Phil set his cup down. Tommy still stared at the ground. 

He shrugged. 

“I’ll talk to the administration.” He clapped his hands together, making Tommy flinch. When he looked up, Phil blinked away his guilt, swiftly continuing. “So do you want anything to eat? I figured they wouldn’t feed you in detention.”

Was that it? He was expecting a bit… more. “A little, yeah,” he admitted. 

Phil looked annoyingly delighted at the response. “Great! Do you want pizza? I ordered some for lunch and had leftovers.”

They walked past the foyer into the dining room, where a half eaten box of pizza sat. Techno breezed past them, muttering something about homework to Phil as he carried his plate of pizza upstairs. 

Tommy picked up the plate Phil handed him, hesitantly placing a slice onto the ceramic. Phil watched him intently, not saying a word.

Tommy stared back until Phil got the message, busing himself with his laptop. “You can warm it up, if you’d like.”

“I’m alright.”

Phil nodded. “That’s fine too. I think Wilbur should be getting back before dinner, so do you have preferences?”

Tommy shook his head.

Phil decided to take a new tactic, apparently. “You’ve been taking your meds, right? Let me know if you’d like me to remind you.”

“I’m alright.”

“Okay,” Phil said. “I trust you.”

Tommy narrowed his eyes. “Right. I’m gonna go now.”

Phil didn’t look discouraged, smiling lightly. “Make sure to bring the plate back when you come downstairs for dinner.”

Tommy didn’t bother with a response, jogging back down the hallway and up the stairs, closing his door when he stepped inside. 

He set the plate on the desk as he opened the blinds, letting light flood into the room. Kneeling down by the floorboard, Tommy reached in, finding the roll of film connected to the disposable camera. 

If he held it up to the light, he could barely make out the outline of what was happening. The last picture showed the outline of his blond hair, in front of a car and holding up something that in actuality was his drivers license. It had all gone to shit sometime after that. 

The first picture was taken three months into his stay. He wasn’t looking at the camera, although he distinctly remembered turning around in confusion after hearing the flash. The next few looked the same, with the photographer yards away from Tommy, the latter having no idea what was going on. There were a few sprinkled in without Tommy at all, instead showing cars, or races, or blurs that were probably a crowd of people. 

There were only five pictures that showed Clara, all towards the end of the roll. 

The first one was blurry, taken after Tommy had stolen the disposable camera. Even holding it up to the light showed nothing, but he remembered the moment clearly. 

The rest were taken with more precision. Clara was seen smiling at the camera, sitting on the kitchen island, standing by the track as cars whizzed by, and in the driver's seat of her own car. The last one was a particularly artsy one she had him take, where she stood behind a chain link fence, the sunset casting shadows on her face. 

24 pictures, documenting his nine month stay. 

It wasn’t enough. It was never enough. 

He set the camera and the film down, crawling under the covers. 

 --- 

The mirror was foggy when Tommy stepped into the bathroom. He huffed, grabbing the hand towel and awkwardly leaning over the counter to clear the center of the mirror. The action led to the mirror looking streaky, but it was good enough.

The bathroom he usually frequented used to be Wilburs. There were three bathrooms on the top floor. One in the master bedroom, primarily used by Phil, and two in the hall, only one of which had a shower. The showerless one was closest to Tommys room, and on his first day, was filled with Wilbur’s things. Various hair supplies, along with a surprising amount of soaps, were moved out of the room just hours later, supposedly into Techno’s bathroom.

It was a shame, really, considering his bathroom was completely empty, save for his toothbrush, but it also meant lower interactions with Wilbur. 

The one he stood in now had a mix of Techno and Wilbur’s things, soaps and hair supplies on one side and another brand of hair things on the other. It was messy, and it felt like Tommy was at a guest's house. Like he wasn’t supposed to touch anything.

He let the shower run, waiting for it to heat up. In the meantime, he yanked his shirt off, grimacing in the process. His stomach was a mess of purple and yellow, dotting up his side. The yellow indicated healing, as his doctor said, but he still winced at the sight. His face looked much better, at least. The black eye and split lip healed weeks ago, leaving almost nothing in it's trace. 

He looked away from his reflection. He never liked mirrors anyway.

After his shower, once again fogging up the mirror, Tommy stepped outside, the not-humid air making him shiver. He walked to his room, noting that the door was wide open. 

He stood in the doorway, watching as Wilbur held the film, his film , up to the light and squinting. He dashed inside, grabbing the film out of his hands harshly, pulling it away.

Luckily, Wilbur let go easily, not bothering to hold on. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Tommy asked, snarling. “Get your hands off my shit. Why are you even in here?”

Wilbur rolled his eyes. “Calm down, I was just looking. Phil told me to ask if you were having dinner downstairs.” He moved to the door, turning back around. “Is that you? In the pictures?”

“Get out of my room,” Tommy gritted out. He should have been more careful. If WIlbur was any more of a dick than he already was, he could’ve destroyed the film. And Tommy would have lost the last thing he had of Clara.

Chapter Text

“Hey Tommy,” Phil greeted as he walked downstairs. 

Almost everyone in the house wasn’t a morning person except for Phil. Tommy didn't think he had heard more than three sentences come out of Techno and Wilbur’s mouth before 9 a.m.

“So,” Phil began after Tommy waved in response. “Do you wanna go shopping for some things for your room?”

“I’m pretty sure that classifies as truancy.”

Phil laughed. “Not now, probably after school, if you don’t have a lot of homework.”

“I don’t really need a lot of things for my room.” Tommy filled a glass with water and downed it in seconds, ignoring the orange juice sitting on the table. “I’m fine how it is.”

Phil winced. “It’s a bit... bare. I was hoping we could get a few decorations to spruce it up a bit. It’s technically coming out of your paycheck.” Phil’s laugh died when Tommy looked up sharply. He cleared his throat. “Sorry, bad joke.” Across the table, Techno smirked into his coffee cup. “But what I mean is that you don’t have to feel like you owe me for any of it. That alright, mate?”

But Tommy would owe Phil. That was just how it worked, wasn’t it? If Phil bought him things, even if Tommy didn’t want them, it could be used against him. It had happened before, and it would happen again before Tommy aged out.

Phil took his glass, refilling it and sliding it back to him along with a pill. Tommy swallowed it. “Sure.” Maybe it would shut Phil up for a few days.

Phil broke out into a smile. “Great! Does after school work for you?” A nod. Phil turned to Techno and Wilbur. “Would any of you two like to join?” The two of them grumbled noncommittally. “Alright then. Maybe next time. Do you want to meet with Puffy today, too? She mentioned wanting to chat with you.”

Huh. It was a bit early, but he shrugged anyway. “Sure. Sounds good.” A buzz sounded from Tommy’s phone, and he didn’t bother to check it. “Can I go now?”

“Have a good day at school!”

Tommy turned, walking down the hallway.

 --- 

“You coming to the garage today?”

Tommy shrugged his backpack onto his shoulder as the bell rang, glancing down at Purpled. “I don’t think so. I think Phil’s picking me up.”

Purpled nodded. “My brother usually picks me up, but I think I’m riding the bus today. I can show you where to wait, though.”

Ranboo blinked. “Punz is back from college?”

“Yeah,” Purpled dragged out. “He’s staying in a hotel and everything.” The three of them stepped out of the classroom, following the throng of students already in the halls. Someone began playing obnoxious music. “He refuses to stay with my parents.”

Ranboo nodded sympathetically before glancing at Tommy. “Oh! Basically Purpled’s brother and his parents don’t get along.”

Tommy hummed. “You’re always stuck in the middle, then?”

“Sort of?” Purpled turned the corner, waving goodbye to Ranboo who was heading the other way. “My parents are assholes. I’m almost never on their side. But they’re assholes who are gonna pay for my college, so I can’t do much.”

“Ah. That sucks.” They pushed through the doors, and Tommy blinked at the sudden sunlight. It seemed to be the side of the school, and he could see the parking lots in the distance. Most students stood in clusters, and Tommy let Purpled drag him over to the front of the kiss-and-ride, claiming that it was faster.

Tommy glanced at the message Phil had sent.

Phil: I’m on the way now!

“God, have you seen the homework yet?”

Tommy snorted. “I barely had time to finish the worksheet in class, so no. It’s hard?”

“Hard would be an understatement. I think--” Purpled cut himself off abruptly, squinting into the distance. “Is that your brother?”

“Foster brother,” Tommy absentmindedly corrected before following Purpled’s gaze. “I...I think so.”

All the way towards the back of the school, by the teacher parking lots, two figures stood. One was tall, with fluffy brown hair and a beanie, most definitely Wilbur, and the other was a bit shorter, no distinguishing features except for mutton chops. 

What high schooler had mutton chops?

“Yeah, that’s definitely Schlatt.” Purpled glanced away. “I think he’s giving Wilbur drugs. Schlatt’s basically the drug dealer of the school. He’s got the best prices. Apparently.”

Huh. Good to know. Before Tommy could avert his eyes, Wilbur caught his gaze, suddenly shoving something into his pocket. He and Schlatt conversed for a second, and suddenly, the two of them were making their way over. 

“Fuck. They’re coming over.”

Purpled frowned. “Now?”

“Yes, now.” Tommy wanted to add a ‘ did you think they were coming over for tea tomorrow? ’ But Wilbur was already within earshot. 

“Why the fuck are you staring at me?”

Tommy rolled his eyes. How self centered could he get? “I wasn’t staring at you, dickhead. I just glanced over there. Jesus. I’m not gonna tell Phil if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Right. Like I have any reason to believe you.”

“I don’t care if you believe me or not, actually.”

Schlatt huffed in laughter. “You’re funny, kid. I’m Schlatt.” Wilbur shot him a glare, but Schlatt stuck his hand out anyway. 

Tommy glanced at Wilbur before shaking it. “Tommy. Not a kid.”

“You’re, like, 13.”

“16.”

“Still a kid,” Schlatt responded. 

“Great, you two are friends,” Wilbur deadpanned. “Don’t sell him anything, Schlatt. I mean it.”

“Got it.”

Tommy had been at the school for three days and he was already blacklisted from a drug dealer. Fun. 

 --- 

“Do you have any preferences on bedding?”

Tommy shrugged.

“Do you have a favorite color?”

Tommy had been shrugging at everything Phil asked for the past half hour. He sighed. “Red.”

Phil smiled. “That sounds great. How about this one?” He pointed to a red and white striped bed set that Tommy nodded at after a quick glance. Phil hauled the comforter bag into the cart, along with the other things they had gotten. 

They strayed over to the decoration section, where everything was more personalized. Phil cleared his throat. “So how’re your ribs feeling?”

“Alright, I guess. It only hurts when I twist or breathe too hard.”

Phil nodded slowly, keeping his voice light. “Mhm. And how are you finding the house? Is there anything I could do to make you more comfortable?” He picked up a set of LED lights, placing them in the cart. Tommy winced. LED lights usually cost a lot. He craned his neck to see the price, immediately returning to normal when Phil glanced over.

Tommy thought for a moment. He briefly considered mentioning asking Wilbur to get off his back before refraining. “I don’t think so.”

“What about any triggers? Anything that upsets you that you’d like me to not bring up,” he explained, as if Tommy didn’t know what a trigger was. 

It was an odd place for the conversation, in the middle of a Target, but he supposed it was secluded enough. The entire store was basically deserted. And Phil probably knew he wouldn’t get the chance again. “I don’t like cigarettes,” Tommy mumbled after a moment. Phil was on his third foster kid, so of course he had done research. It made sense that he was asking, but the question threw Tommy off guard anyway. 

“Thanks for letting me know. Techno gets triggered by screaming, on occasion, so even if you’re just shrieking for fun he could be triggered.”

Tommy didn’t really plan on shrieking for fun so he nodded. “Sounds good.”

Phil pushed the cart as Tommy picked up random objects before setting them back down. “And how are Techno and Wilbur?”

Tommy shook his head at the globe Phil pointed to. “They’re alright. I don't think Wilbur likes me.”

Phil sighed. “He’s not a fan of change. Just let me know if he’s causing any issues and I’ll talk to him.”

He nodded. He wasn’t gonna do that, but it was a nice gesture. 

He figured that was a good way to define Phil: nice. Thoughtful. 

Tommy wondered how long it would last. 

 --- 

“Okay, let me know when to pick you up.”

Tommy shook his head. “I can walk.”

“Really, Tommy, it’s no hassle. I’m not doing much anyway, and it’ll be dark soon.”

Tommy reached for the door handle. “Okay, sure, I guess.”

He slammed the door closed, stepping into the coffee shop. Both Puffy and Dream were already seated in a booth, and Tommy grinned, joining them. 

“Hi Tommy,” Puffy smiled. “It’s nice to see you again.”

Dream snorted. “I saw you like nine hours ago so it’s a little less nice to see you.”

Tommy rolled his eyes in response, flicking his shoulder. “Hi Puffy, hi Dream.”

“So how are they treating you? Oh, do you want me to send Dream away for this part?”

Tommy shrugged. He trusted Dream. “He can stay. It's alright, for the most part. Phil’s nice. He hasn’t gotten angry or anything. Technoblade doesn’t really talk to me much. Wilbur’s a bitch but he’s too much of a pussy to try anything.” Dream grinned, giving him a high five. 

Puffy swatted Dream’s hand away. “That’s good to hear. Can I see your arms?”

Tommy sighed, but he had brought that upon himself, hadn’t he? He was one of Puffy’s worst cases, he already knew, and he didn't like how much time she was spending on him. So eventually he just stopped telling her when families sucked. He stuck out his arms, pulling the sleeves up. 

Puffy examined them, flipping them over, checking for bruises. “And your ribs?”

“Maybe I shouldn’t take off my shirt in the middle of a coffee shop, but they’re healing I guess.” Both Dream and Puffy wheezed, making Tommy wrinkle his nose. “You guys have the same laugh, it’s creepy.”

Another wheeze, this time just from Puffy. “That’s how being related tends to work, Tommy.”

“I don’t think laughs are hereditary.”

 -------------- 

Wilbur brought the joint to his mouth, inhaling. His phone beeped, and he reached over the edge of the bean bag blindly, until it was pressed into his hands. He held it over his face, squinting at the words.

dadza: Hey Wil! Where are you?

He groaned audibly, dropping the phone back down and leaning back. The popcorn ceiling of Schlatt’s apartment stared back at him. Phil hadn’t taken an interest in Wilbur's life since Tommy showed up, so why the hell did he care now?

“Phil’s being so--”

“If you’re not gonna relax then gimme the joint back,” Schlatt snapped, and before Wilbur could respond, the joint was plucked out of his hand.

“It’s only been ten minutes, it hasn’t kicked in yet,” Wilbur defended. He sat up, leaning on his hands. Schlatt had almost no furniture. He had two large beanbags in front of the TV, the only expensive thing in the house, and had plastic lawn chairs and a cardboard box for a dining table. Wilbur sort of loved it.

Schlatt rolled his eyes from the floor. “Whatever. What were you saying again?”

“Phil’s pissing me off.”

“Mhm.”

Wilbur continued. “For the past year, he’s ignored me completely, and then out of the blue, he’s telling us that he wants to do emergency fostering again. And then fucking Tommy shows up. It’s always Tommy this or Tommy that. Like, for God’s sake, no one cares . He talked to me and Techno for two fucking hours before Tommy showed up about what we could do to make him feel comfortable.”

“Mhm.”

“And don’t even get me started on Tommy.” Schlatt responded with another mhm so Wilbur got started. “He’s such a fucking-- gremlin . He keeps eating my food, too. You know the day-before-yesterday, he practically made us all have dinner together. I could see the stupid glint in his eye, he knew what he was doing.” He ran a hand through his hair.

“Mhm.” Schlatt was high off his mind. He had probably started before Wilbur even showed, if the redness of his eyes said anything. But Wilbur didn’t mind. Schlatt gave the best advice when he was high, anyway. “Are you going to the race tomorrow?”

“That’s not advice.”

Schlatt rolled his eyes. “Fine then. You aren’t pissed at Tommy, you’re pissed at Phil.”

“I knew I was pissed at Phil, but I’m also pissed off at Tommy. He’s--”

“No you’re not,” Schlatt interrupted. “Are you going to the race tomorrow?”

Wilbur relented, answering the question. “Probably not. I don’t think Techno’s racing, so there’s no reason to. Where’s the after party?”

“Niki’s, I think,” Schlatt said, wrinkling his nose. He and Wilbur’s other friends never got along.

“I might show up there.”

Schlatt nodded, getting off the floor and taking a seat on the other bean bag.

Wilbur paused, looking at the digital clock on the kitchen counter, turned to face him and Schlatt. He barely took a drag, and he still had 15 more minutes before the high would hit, if it ever did. Wilbur flicked Schlatt’s shoulder, standing up. “Schlatt. I’m leaving.” He still hadn’t responded to Phil. He scrolled further up in their chat, noting that he hadn’t been responding to Phil for a while now. To be fair, Phil didn’t text him often.

“So soon, loverboy?”

“Shut up,” Wilbur smirked. “I can walk.” He pulled his backpack onto one shoulder, stacking a few stray bowls and plates on the counter and setting them in the sink. He turned on the tap, letting them soak.

“Alright, stay safe,” Schlatt slurred. “Don’t talk to strangers. Don’t do drugs.”

Wilbur laughed, stepping out the door.

He had gotten a ride with Techno today, which meant he was forced to walk the half a mile between the apartments and his community. It was fine, he liked walking.

 --- 

He made it home within 15 minutes, and pulled in just as Phil pulled into the driveway. He waved to Wilbur once he was spotted, and nodded for him to come over.

Wilbur followed, picking up the large plastic bag with the target logo printed on the outside. He waited as Phil picked up the remaining bags, and Wilbur peered inside his own bag. A comforter set. Oh.

“You got him room decorations.”

Phil chuckled lightly, although it didn’t sound as relaxed as usual. When he spoke, there was a sort of tightness to his voice that Wilbur had become familiar with. The past few times they had spoken that week, Phil sounded the same. “Yeah, we went out to a few places to get some things. His room looks pretty bare, you know.”

“I know. So does this mean he’s staying?”

Phil closed the trunk and answered a few moments later. “Well, I mean, this fostering was a bit of an emergency, wasn’t it? So I guess until--”

“Until another family is ready to foster him?” Wilbur knew what he was doing. He continued anyway. “Since we were technically an emergency fostering.” He began walking to the house, where thankfully, it seemed to be empty.

“...Well even though we didn’t get much warning, we managed to get everything ready on time, so it’ll be treated as a normal fostering situation.”

“Mhm,” Wilbur hummed. “So until he fucks up, then? He seems to have quite a track record for it.”

Phil looked at him chidingly. Wilbur didn’t back down. “That’s putting it bluntly, and rudely , might I add, but yes. Tommy’s been through a lot--” He paused, setting down the plastic bags in his hands. “--and I’d like this house to be a good one for him.”

“Right.”

“You should try to bond with him, Wilbur. I think it would be good for the both of you.”

That was rich, coming from Phil. “I dunno. I don’t think he’ll be here much longer.”

Phil sent him a look. “At least try, Wil--”

“I’ll have dinner in my room, thanks.” He dropped the comforter by the other bags, jogging upstairs. Red and white, really? How much more obnoxious could he get?

Chapter Text

Wilbur walked outside barefoot, tiptoeing down the driveway to make as little contact as possible with the cold pavement. He made it to the end, opening the mailbox when suddenly the entire area was lit up.

He squinted against the headlights, quickly moving onto the grass when it was made clear that the car wasn’t slowing. Asshole. The lights flicked off, revealing a white car. One that Wilbur was pretty familiar with.

The windows were already rolled down, letting whatever music the two were listening to blast into the street. Tommy stepped out of the car, the smile on his face dying when he made eye contact with Wilbur.

Wilbur sighed, grabbing the last newspaper from the mailbox before slamming it closed. “Tell Dream I say hi,” he deadpanned, making his way back up the driveway. 

He received a response a few seconds later, coupled with a laugh. He didn’t think he had heard Tommy laugh since they met. It was loud and annoying, matching the blond to a T. “Dream says he doesn’t like you.”

Wilbur didn’t dignify either of them with a response, closing the door behind him and flicking the porchlight on. Techno glanced behind him as the door closed, wrinkling his nose. “Dream?”

“Who else? And Tommy.”

Techno shrugged, walking back upstairs. Wordlessly, Wilbur followed him. “Tommy’s not too bad. I don’t know what you have against him, to be honest.”

Wilbur glared at Techno’s back. “He’s an annoying little shit who has no respect for other people.”

“He ate your pudding again?”

He scoffed. “Well, yes he ate my pudding but that’s not what this is about.”

The door opened to Techno’s room, and Wilbur flopped onto the bed. “You smell like weed. Are you high?” Techno asked from the desk, not bothering to turn to make eye contact. 

Wilbur was beginning to like this conversation less and less. “I’m not high.” Techno twisted in his chair to give him a look. “ I’m not. Don’t give me that look.” He snorted, flipping on his back to face the ceiling, oddly reminiscent of the ceiling he was staring at a couple hours ago. “Phil does the same thing.”

“Phil knows? ” Technoblade asked, emotion seeping into his voice for once. “What--”

“He doesn’t know, Tech, calm down. He gives me the look anyway.” Disappointment. That was the best way to describe the look. Phil looked at him like he was a disappointment.

Techno gave him a sympathetic smile and shrugged, in true Technoblade fashion. Techno would never understand, though. He could do no wrong in Philza’s eyes. For good reason, too. All Wilbur seemed to be good at was playing the fucking guitar.

Wilbur rolled his eyes. “Whatever. You aren’t going to the race tomorrow, right?” He patted the bed, and Techno got up, sitting cross legged in front of him.

He began taking Techno’s hair out of it’s loose ponytail as Techno spoke. “No, I don’t think so. Too busy with school and shit. Why, are you going?”

Wilbur shrugged. “If you’re not then no. Maybe the after party though.”

“Aww,” Techno cood sarcastically. “You only go to the races for me?”

“Racing looks dumb, Techno.” He combed his hand through the pink locks a couple times. “Your roots are growing.”

“Yeah, I need to get dye soon. And of course you think racings dumb, with your Aston Martin. Which isn’t even the best model, by the way.”

Wilbur flicked the back of Techno’s head before he began braiding. “Shut the fuck up, there is’t a single model better than the DB6.”

“AMV8.”

“Is it too late to return you? I’m sure we have Shelia’s number around here somewhere.”

Techno let out a laugh, making Wilbur groan as he tugged his hair back into place. Techno suddenly cut off his laugh, looking at the door. Wilbur followed his gaze, rolling his eyes when he saw Tommy at the door.

The blond had wide eyes as he glanced around the room, suddenly blinking a few times and stepping back as Wilbur got off the bed. He sent Tommy a saccharine smile as he closed the door in his face, huffing. 

He squinted at Techno. “What?”

“Nothing, nothing.”

 --- 

Tommy snorted at Dream as he fiddled with the radio, groaning. Eventually, the senior just passed his phone to Tommy, saying, “The radio’s shit, you mind putting something on?”

Tommy nodded, scrolling through Dream’s playlist. “Your songs are shit. And so is your phone case.”

“Yeah, like you have any room to be talking.” Then, more defensive, “And what’s wrong with green?”

“It's not just green. It’s obnoxiously green.” Tommy eventually gave up on Dreams playlists, navigating to a pre-made one and letting the speakers fill with Modern Baseball. 

Dream snorted. “Indie bitch.”

“Alternative rock, for your information.”

“Of course, how could I forget.” Dream paused to merge, glancing back. “So how’s Phil? Have you categorized him yet”

Tommy wrinkled his nose. “I did, actually. He thinks he can fix me. Make me a good little kid.” The words felt sour in his mouth. 

Dream winced. “I mean, it’s not as bad as others, right? Or your last house?”

“Definitely better than most of the houses I’ve been to.” The sound of shattering plates and heavy footsteps echoed in his mind, and Tommy blinked a couple times. He was in the front seat of Dream's car. He could feel the seat below him and the rumble of the car. He was fine. “I’m planning on just coasting here for a few months before Phil gives up.”

“Are you sure he’ll give up?”

“Huh?”

“I mean,” Dream paused, clarifying, “He fostered and adopted both Technoblade and Wilbur. He doesn’t seem like he’ll give up too easy. Techno and I were friends at the time. I...watched him go through it. He was sort of like you.”

Tommy blinked, speaking slowly. “If he doesn’t give up then I’ll just do something really bad. Like get myself arrested or something. There’s no way he wouldn’t send me back then.”

“Alright.”

“...You don’t believe me.” 

The words were more of a statement than a question, but Dream nodded anyway. ”I don't.” Before Tommy could respond, Dream squinted ahead. “Is that Wilbur?”

The headlights flashed onto a very disgruntled Wilbur, staring at the car. He had a hand in the mailbox, and he wore sweatpants and joggers, without shoes on. He squinted against the light, holding a hand up and moving onto the grass when they got closer. 

Dream flicked the headlights off, setting the car in park and turned to face Tommy. “You should try. They’re good people.”

“I thought you didn’t like Techno and Wilbur.”

Dream rolled his eyes. “I don’t but they’re still decent, I guess.”

Tommy’s mouth quirked into a smile, getting out of the car. Just a yard away, Wilbur slammed the mailbox lid closed sarcastically saying, “Tell Dream I say hi.”

Tommy leaned on the window of the car and relayed the message, laughing at Dream’s response. “What? So you don’t have to like them but I do?”

“Exactly,” Dream smirked. 

Tommy glanced back at Wilbur, who was halfway up the driveway, “Dream says he doesn’t like you.”

“ Tommy! ” Dream hissed, grinning incredulously. “Jesus, I didn't think you’d actually say it!”

Tommy laughed again, leaning back and saluting to Dream before cutting through the grass to the front door. 

Thankfully, Wilbur was long gone by the time he got inside, leaving Phil blinking at him. “Oh! Tommy! I thought you were gonna call?”

Tommy winced. Why did he have to look so sad about it? “I mean, Dream was going by here anyway, so I just figured I’d catch a ride with him.” Dream...lived halfway across town. 

“Yeah, no, that’s fine. Would you like anything to drink? I took all the bags upstairs already, they should be in your room.”

You should try. The words echoed in his head, but Tommy sighed. Maybe later. “No thanks,” he said curtly, picking up a water bottle and making his way up the stairs. 

Technoblade’s room was open, and Tommy halted suddenly, surveying the scene. Wilbur and Techno were sitting on the bed together, the latter laughing loudly as Wilbur rolled his eyes. Wilbur was braiding pink hair, and it just looked so... domestic. Like a family.

Techno suddenly made eye contact with him, Wilbur following his gaze soon after. Tommy stepped back, blinking, and Wilbur got up, moving closer to him and delivering a sarcastic smile followed by an eye roll as he slammed the door.

Tommy blinked again at the door. That was...embarrassing. He didn’t mean to stare, he just...was confused. Wilbur and Techno were arguing the other day, so he didn’t realize that they had made up that quickly. Yeah, that was it.

He forced himself to move from his spot, stepping into his bedroom. Tommy laid in bed for hours before he finally fell asleep.

 --- 

The lunch room was big, as Tommy had come to know. It was strictly divided into territories that were determined far before Tommy ever showed up, but thankfully, he didn’t have to worry about most of that. 

The sophomores were seated closer to the doors, but not as close as the freshmen, sticking Tommy and his new group right in the center of the room.

“So what is the after party like?” Ranboo asked, leaning on the table. Tommy didn’t know much about him, but he had recently figured out that he was constantly nervous in any environment that wasn’t the garage. Even now, his fingers tapped on the table nervously.

“Haven’t you been before?”

Tubbo answered for Ranboo. “He’s been to a few races, but not any of the parties.”

Purpled slid a carton of chocolate milk to Ranboo, picking up his apple slices. “No one’s gonna peer pressure you into cocaine, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Don’t do drugs,” Tommy added unhelpfully. “You seem like the type to get addicted.”

Ranboo blinked. “I seem like the type to get addicted,” he repeated. “ What ?”

“I said what I said.”

Tubbo snorted, taking a smiley fry from Purpled. “Anyways, it’s at my house, so we’ll probably just chill in my room most of the time. Niki and Eret don't like me downstairs anyway.” He glanced at Tommy. “You can stay downstairs, of course. If you want.”

Tommy didn’t particularly want to hang out with a bunch of drunk teenagers he didn’t know, but he also didn’t want to impose on whatever traditions the three of them had. “I mean, if you don’t mind then I don’t mind.”

Ranboo blinked. “I don’t mind.”

“I don’t mind.”

“I don’t mind.”

The three of them stared at Tommy. After a few seconds, he slid his carton of strawberry milk into the center of the table, where it was promptly sniped by Purpled and replaced with the rest of his smiley fries. Tommy grinned.

 --- 

Tommy sat at the dinner table, tapping his foot rapidly. Phil continuously sent him glances, waiting for him to ask something.

But Tommy stayed silent.

A few minutes later, Phil tentatively asked, “Is there anything you need?”

A “ finally!” sounded from the front living room that Tommy ignored. “Can I go to my friend's house tonight?”

Phil sighed. “Is that it? It’s Friday, of course you can. Which friend?”

Was that it? Just like that? “Tubbo...” Tommy spoke slowly, and the name sat in the silence between them for a few moments before Phil snapped his fingers.

“Oh, I know Tubbo! Tubbo Score. He’s the one who was in the newspaper a few years ago. For accidentally exploding the middle school science classrooms. He’s a good kid.”

Tommy choked on a laugh, stifling it. “Yeah, I think that’s him.”

“Then sure, mate. Does 11 for curfew sound okay to you? You can also just stay the night there. I know his sister, they're a good family.” Phil returned to his laptop, looking far more relaxed than a few minutes ago. “If you’re comfortable, of course,” he tacked on.

Tommy nodded, almost breathless. He didn’t expect it to be so... easy. Then again, a lot of things here were easier than he originally expected. “Yeah. Yeah, thanks Phil.”

Phil looked positively delighted. “No problem, Tommy.”

No problem.

He walked down the hallway, intending on hiding out in his room until he left. Before he made it past the first step, Tommy noticed something on the foyer table. A wallet. More specifically, Phil’s wallet.

It would take exactly six seconds for Phil to walk the length of the hallway, not to mention the terrible creaking sound the chair made when it was dragged against the floor. Barely thinking twice, Tommy stepped over to the table, opening the brown wallet. It was simple enough, his drivers license tucked into the clear plastic, and a few credit cards stuffed into the sides. The money was in the back pocket, and after Tommy quickly leafed through it, he noted that there were eight twenties.

This was dumb. He usually thought these things through, he was never impulsive with things like this. Impulse got him beat up. Impulse got Tommy in the hospital. But this family was too fucking nice. Phil was too nice, and Tommy needed to know where it ended. He didn't want to get too comfortable.

With that thought, Tommy pocketed 60 dollars into his back pocket.

Chapter Text

Tommy stepped out the front door, jogging down the steps to the car parked by the curb. Purpled leaned on the car, nodding to the driver's seat, as Tubbo waved out the open window maniacally.

Tommy blinked, catching the keys that were suddenly getting thrown at him. “You’re driving.” Purpled said, clapping his shoulder on the way to the passenger seat.

“I’m...driving.”

“You have your license, right?”

Tommy nodded.

“Then drive.”

Okay. He was doing this. He was driving. This was fine. Completely fine.  

Tommy took a seat in the car, a black Toyota Supra and turned it on. Purpled twisted in his seat to talk to Ranboo, but Tommy ignored them. He was driving, for the first time in months.

He pulled the shifter back, taking a turn out of the community. He let out a sigh he didn’t know he was holding.

“Are we interrupting? Should we give you two a few minutes?” Ranboo asked. 

Tubbo immediately followed him. “Tommy!” he chided. “Not in front of Purpled! Think of the children.”

“Shut up,” Tommy grumbled. “Where are we going?”

Purpled snorted, “I got it. Just keep going straight for now.”

Tubbo leaned forwards, turning the dial for the music all the way up as Purpled shouted directions. They turned past the garage, further into a group of buildings that Tommy had never seen. Behind the buildings that Ranboo had informed him were deserted, the race supposedly took place.

Sure enough, Purpled unplugged his phone and opened the windows, where faint music could be heard, almost drowned out by the voices along with it. 

“Shit, we got here a bit late. Park over there,” Purpled directed, and Tommy pulled between two cars smoothly. 

There was already a crowd forming by the track, although most of the other teenagers milled around in the back. Music played from large speakers in front of the crowd, a set up that was obviously done recently. He got up, closing the car door. It wasn’t too different from the last race he went to, just a bit smaller but the cars made up for it. Rich kid races were on another level , holy shit. There had to be at least 200 people.

Tubbo patted his shoulder roughly. “I know, right. It’s amazing.”

Tommy let out a shaky breath. “Yeah. It is.”

“C’mon,” Tubbo dragged him forwards. “I have money to be made.” He waved to a few people he supposedly recognized, taking Tommy and the rest of the group over to a small clearing where Eret from the coffeeshop sat, behind a large grey safe. Jesus christ this town was rich. “Hey Eret.”

“Hey Tubbo. Corrupting the new kid already?”

Tubbo grinned. “You know it.”

Eret turned to him with a smile, taking off her sunglasses. “Hi Tommy. From the coffeeshop, right? Wilbur’s new foster brother.”

Tommy nodded. “That’s me, unfortunately.”

She let out a laugh, taking the money Tubbo slid over. “How much and for who?”

“$200, and on Niki’s first race.”

“You aren’t betting on her second?” Eret asked with a raised eyebrow.

Tubbo winced. “Don’t tell her anything. If she asks then I bet $100.”

Eret rolled her eyes. “Anyone else? Purpled.”

Purpled nodded, sliding a bundle of cash over. “$100 on Niki in her first race, and $200 on Niki’s opponent.” Both siblings gave him a look. “What? I barely know Niki, don’t try to make me feel guilty.”

Eret continued jotting a few things down before dropping the money in the safe. “Mhm, you still feel guilt though. Niki would be disappointed.”

“Hey!”

“Anyways, it should be starting soon so you guys should find a spot to stand.”

The four of them bid Eret goodbye, and Tommy followed the rest of them through the crowd where they weaseled a spot in the front.

There was a chalk line where the crowd stood, and past the line were the cars. Niki was closest to where they were, donning a bright pink fur jacket. She had pink sunglasses perched on her white-blond hair, and she pulled a lollipop out of her mouth when she spotted Tubbo. “Tubbo!”

Tubbo beamed, dragging the rest of them over the track and to where her car was parked. For someone so short, Tubbo tended to drag the three of them around a lot.

The car was a dark grey Nissan 300SX, and goddamn was it a good car. The hood was already propped open, and Tommy wasted no time in peering under it. The engine was beautiful , almost completely re-done from the original. 

Niki smiled at him. “Tommy!” She said, her German accent noticeable through the words. “I didn’t expect to see you here. Does Wil know?”

Tommy winced. “Not really.”

She sent him another smile. “Well, your secret’s safe with me, at least for now. I doubt he’d mind much anyway.” She nodded to where he stood, still angled towards the engine. “You like cars?”

“You could say that.”

Ranboo snorted from behind him. “He really likes cars. Like Tubbo level. Anyway, hi Niki.”

“Hi Ranboo, it’s nice to see you again. And hi Purpled!”

Purpled raised a hand in response. “Are you--”

The speakers crackled to life. “If you’re on the tracks, GET OFF!” A voice yelled. “Niki and Jack, you’re up. Get to the starting lines.” The people on the track moved to the side, many climbing on top of their cars for better views.

Niki sent them a salute, opening her car door as Tommy closed the hood for her. “Is this your first race that you’re watching? Here, at least?” Tommy nodded, and Niki grinned. “Well I hope it’s a memorable one.” She reversed, settling into place beside a dark blue Toyota.

“That’s Quackity, the one speaking,” Tubbo yelled over the crowd. “Next to him is Karl, his boyfriend.” Karl wore a colorblock hoodie, holding two checkered flags and not looking happy about it.

Karl strided between the two cars, rolling his eyes the entire time before plastering on a smile, raising the flags. The cheering reached an all time high as he dropped the flags, both cars surging forwards.

Before he could blink, they were out of sight, and the cheering died down. Tommy had forgotten how boring racing was when he wasn’t the one in the driver's seat.

It was clear the others didn’t hold the same sentiment, as Tubbo’s eyes sparkled, grabbing onto Ranboo’s sleeve and tugging in excitement. “Niki’s gonna crush him. He won't even see it coming.

Tommy leaned over. “He’s a junior, right?”

“Mhm,” Purpled answered. “He’s in a few of my classes, I think. Cool guy. He and Niki have been friends for ages.”

“Over there!” Tubbo pointed between a clearing of buildings in the distance, and there were two flashes of grey and blue, neck and neck. 

“They seem pretty close,” Tommy remarked.

Tubbo smirked. “Niki’s gonna pull through. Trust me.”

Sure enough, barely a minute later, both cars passed another section of trees, maybe a hundred yards away from the finish line. Niki released her NOS, pulling ahead considerably. Jack released his too, but he was just a couple seconds too late, speeding past the finish line two full seconds after Niki.

The cheering increased as both the cars slowed down, reversing back to the start and parking off to the side. Both were immediately swarmed after getting out, Tubbo and Ranboo following the crowd.

“What did you think?”

Tommy grinned. “It was pretty fuckin’ cool.” It had been months since he had gone to a race and the adrenaline was hyping him up. “Niki’s good.”

“Not good enough for Sapnap, though.”

Tommy blinked. “Sapnap?”

“Yeah, that’s who she’s up against next. I’ve seen him, and he’s seriously good. Like, not as good as Dream, of course, but definitely up there.”

“Sapnap races?” Tommy asked incredulously. “ Dream races? ”

Purpled winced. “Was I not supposed to tell you that? I don’t think I was supposed to tell you that. Fuck.”

Dream raced. That made absolutely no sense and so much sense at the same time. He basically taught Tommy how to drive, along with the help of Clara, and he seemed like the type. He seemed exactly the type. God, he should've known.

Well, it wasn’t particularly a bad thing, was it? It was...actually kind of cool, if he thought about it. “You said he’s good?”

“Yeah,” Purpled nodded. “He’s seriously good. The only person to ever beat him was Tech-- ”

“ Technoblade? Techno raced? ” He...didn’t seem the type at all. Despite apparently being familiar with detention, Techno seemed like… a nerd, to be honest. “And he’s better than Dream?”

Purpled must have noticed the apprehension in his voice. “I shouldn’t have told you that either, but yeah, he’s seriously good. I know he doesn’t seem like it, but trust me.”

His foster brother raced. That...might be an issue. “Does he race often?”

Purpled ran a hand through his dirty blond hair. “I mean, he did last year? I haven’t seen him around too often this year, though. Most of the seniors are busy worrying about college or something. That’s why Dream isn’t here either.”

Niki readied her car at the start once again, and a red Nissan GTR pulled up next to her. Definitely Sapnap’s car. Quackty went through the same motions as earlier, and both cars were off, leaving nothing but the smell of burning rubber in their wake.

Purpled continued when it was quiet enough that they could hear each other. “You probably won’t see him here, if that’s what you’re worrying about.”

Tommy nodded. From what Phil knew, Tommy was at Tubbo’s house. In another hour, that would be true, just with an extra sixty people. But there were so many people that had seen him. Niki, for one, and he was sure the rest of Wilbur’s friends were around here somewhere.

Purpled grabbed his shoulder and Tommy flinched violently, the older not noticing as he pointed at the cars approaching. “Holy shit, Niki’s only a few seconds behind. She could totally-- oh. Never mind.”

Tommy looked up, seeing Sapnap turn his car around and return to the finish line. He got out of his car grinning, scanning the crowd and stopping on Tommy in confusion before Quackity and Karl pulled his gaze away.

Tubbo and Ranboo reappeared in front of them, panting. “Sorry, we went to find Niki and it was seriously crowded,” Ranboo said, stopping to catch his breath. “Did you see that? Sapnap was--”

“Dream and Techno race? ” Tommy interrupted. “Why didn’t anyone tell me?”

Tubbo rolled his eyes, punching Purpled’s shoulder amidst his protests. “You had one job. But, uh, yeah they do. I don’t know if you know this, but both of them are people you don't wanna be on the bad side of.”

Tommy sighed. Self preservation. It made sense, of course. “Yeah, I guess that makes sense. How many more races are there?”

“There’s a few more, but we’re skipping those.” Tubbo passed him a water bottle out of nowhere and continued. “I don’t know any of them, and I don’t want the house to be too crowded when we get there.”

 --- 

“I said take a right! ”

“I did take a right!”

“That was a left!” Purpled yelled, “You took a fucking left.”

Tommy huffed. “You didn’t tell me which right.”

“ There’s only one right! We’re facing the same direction! ”

He rolled his eyes. “This is a toxic environment for me.”

Tubbo leaned forwards. “Because you took a left . Don’t you literally race?”

“ Sorry, ” Tommy began sarcastically. “I didn’t know there were intersections while street racing .”

Ranboo groaned from the back, leaning his head against the passenger seat. “This car is literally hell.”

Tommy ignored him. “What the fuck, Tubbo put your seatbelt on! ”

It took them an extra twenty minutes to get to Niki’s house (“You race illegally, why won't you take a u-turn here?” “Cause it’s illegal ?”), and when they did, it was already packed. Just as Tommy had expected, the house was as big as Phil’s, and Tubbo had informed him that they had a pool in the backyard.

Teenagers milled around the house with red solo cups in their hands, chatting away. Despite the loud music, he could still hear off-key singing at the karaoke machine that was set up.

Niki was seated on the kitchen counter, talking with Fundy. “Tubbo and co.! What took you so long?”

Tubbo grinned. “We took a few wrong turns,” he said, smacking Tommy’s shoulder roughly. Tommy shot him a glare. “We’ll be in my room, probably.”

“Yeah, sounds good. Eret’s somewhere upstairs too, I think. Don’t drink anything.”

Tubbo nodded, but before they left the kitchen, he grabbed a bottle of something and passed it to Ranboo, who held it despite not looking happy with Tubbo. The four of them made their way upstairs, pushing past people Tommy vaguely remembered from school on the way. 

Tubbo stood on his tippy toes, blindly reaching for the top of the door frame before Tommy snorted and ran a hand along the top, tossing the key he found to Tubbo. “Short.”

“Thanks big man. I’ll eat your kneecaps.”

Both Purpled and Ranboo choked on laughter as they walked into the room. Both of them immediately moved to a large bean bag in the corner, Tommy tentatively following them and taking a seat on the ground in front of it. Tubbo’s room was huge, as to be expected, and had a king size bed with green bedding in the corner, and a white desk that looked like it hadn’t been touched in years. Posters of various bands Tommy didn't know the name of were plastered on the wall, and a set of wrenches were laid out on the floor by the bed.

There was a small TV against the wall by the beanbag, and Tubbo began digging in a box of wires.

Ranboo leaned down, “Don’t be fooled by the posters. Tubbo doesn’t even listen to half of them.”

“Then why does he have them?”

Purpled answered with a grin. “He’s Tubbo, isn’t he?”

Honestly, that made sense, in a weird way.

Tubbo straightened, holding two XBox controllers. “I don’t have any more, so we’ll have to switch on and off. D’you guys wanna play Mario Kart, though?”

Holy shit, it had been years since Tommy had played Mario Kart. He nodded, taking one of the controllers that was passed to him, passing the other one to Ranboo. 

Ranboo turned on the TV, and soon enough, the recognizable music blasted out as the older boy struggled to turn the volume down. It was replaced by some hip-hop song playing from Purpled’s phone for barely a few seconds before Tubbo forced him to turn it off in lieu of the original soundtrack. Tommy turned his attention to the game.

The last time he had played Mario Kart had to have been…before house 17. He had been staying at Puffy’s house for the week when he and Dream played. Now that he thought about it, the senior (then junior) wasn’t entirely subtle about “ going for a drive” every once in a while. It was a wonder Tommy hadn’t noticed. To be fair, that was before Tommy even began driving, much less racing. 

Tommy wrinkled his nose, glancing up at Tubbo who inhaled from a thin metal rod. “Is that a dab pen?”

Tubbo nodded, dropping down to the floor beside Tommy. “You want a hit?”

Tommy had a pretty good feeling he would get caught tonight, and he didn’t particularly want to high when it happened. “Nah, I’m alright for now.”

Tubbo nodded, stretching his legs out in front of him. “Purpled?”

The blond must have nodded, because Tubbo stuck his hand in front of Tommy, making him duck to see the screen as the pen was passed to Purpled.

Tommy grinned at the screen as his character pulled ahead of Ranboo's. This would be fun.

Chapter Text

Tommy grinned, beating Ranboo for the fifth time that night. “Take that, bitch boy.”

Ranboo groaned, flopping against the beanbag. “I’m taking solace in the fact that you haven’t beaten Purpled yet.”

“Not for long,” Tommy crowed, even though he had a feeling he wouldn’t be beating Purpled anytime soon. He had failed miserably once against him, and promptly decided to settle for beating Ranboo and Tubbo. 

Despite what he said earlier, he had taken a big of the vodka that Tubbo had picked up on the way upstairs. He wasn’t tipsy yet, and decided against drinking anymore when Tubbo offered. 

Tommy set the remote down, taking Purpled’s spot on the beanbag as the other teenager slid down the side. He pulled his phone out of his back pocket, glancing at the screen. 

12:39 am. 6 missed calls from technoblade. 

Tommy…would get to that later. It would be fine. 

Tubbo shot up, looking at his phone. “Uh, Tommy? Niki’s saying that Technoblade’s here. And Wilbur.”

Shit. Shit shit shit. Why were they here? Tommy just thouhgt they would be pissed when they realized that he was at a party, not fucking show up.

“Shit,” Tommy said out loud.

“Shit,” Purpled echoed.

Ranboo twisted in his seat to face the rest of them. “Shoot.”

Tommy groaned, “Oh shut up. Should I go down?”

“Probably. We’ll come with you.” Tubbo stood up, pulling Purple to his feet. “C’mon.”

Oh. 

They were coming with him.

He blinked, following the three of them out the door. It was hard, finding decent friends as a foster kid. Tommy had a feeling this time it would be alright.

They pushed past the people inhabiting the steps, stepping into the kitchen where a group of people had formed, three distinct voices getting louder and louder. 

“I didn’t do shit! Maybe just keep a better watch on your brother.” That was unmistakably Dream’s voice.

“We wouldn’t even be here if you hadn't corrupted him!” Wilbur’s.

“I can’t believe you let him go to a race, you know how dangerous those can be!” Techno’s. “I should’ve known--”

Tommy pushed through the crowd, glancing between the three of them warily. “What’s going on?”

“ What’s going on? Tommy, why the hell are you here? You told Phil that you’d be going to Tubbo’s house.”

Tommy coughed, “I mean, this is Tubbo’s house.”

Wilbur rolled his eyes, “That’s not the point, and you know it.”

“Are they gonna fight or not?” Someone asked in the crowd.

“Shut the fuck up and scatter.” Techno glared at the teenagers until they left, only taking a matter of seconds. Techno turned his glare onto Tommy, who subtly took a step back. “Did you go to the race?”

“Yeah, I did.”

Techno turned to Dream. “What the fuck, man?”

“I already told you, I didn’t take him. He must have found out on his own.” Dream didn’t look too happy with him either.

“Like we’re supposed to believe that,” Wilbur spat. “You two act like best friends, and you’re telling me that you haven’t told him anything? ”

“He hasn’t,” Tommy said. “I found out on my own. Is it that hard to believe?”

Wilbur sighed. “Whatever. We need to get you home before Phil notices.”

They hadn’t told Phil? 

“And you aren’t going to any more races,” Techno added.

“No.”

“What?”

“You can’t tell me what to do. I’ve barely known you for a week.” Tommy felt a headache coming on. “And,” he added. “It’s a bit hypocritical of you, isn’t it?”

“Tommy,” Techno said monotonously. “There are some fucked up people at the races, and Phil would kill us if he knew--”

“I agree,” Dream interrupted. “They aren’t that safe, and you’re only--”

“Sixteen,” Techno finished, ignoring Dreams' glare directed at him. “And there’s so much--”

“There’s a lot of shit that happens behind the curtains, and I regret getting into the scene that q--”

“early,” Techno said hastily. “Me too. You shouldn’t be--”

“Oh my god, ” Tommy interrupted. “I’ve been to races before, and I know for a fact that both of you started when you were my age.”

“You’ve been to races before?”

Tommy didn’t really mean to let Dream know, but the words were already out. “Yeah. Clara...”

“...Oh. You mean when I was teaching you how to drive you were at races? ”

Tommy figured it would be a bad time to tell him that he was racing at the races. Before he could get a word in, he was interrupted by Techno. “And you call us irresponsible.”

“You are. He wasn’t my brother.” Ouch. “Legally,” Dream tacked on before sighing, placing a hand on Tommy’s shoulder. “You haven’t had anything to drink, right?”

“No,” he lied. A shot of vodka barely counted as a drink anyway.

“Do you want me to drop you off?”

“We’re dropping him off,” Wilbur said coldly, pushing himself off the wall and disappearing behind the corner. 

Techno gave him a pointed look and Tommy shook his head at Dream, sighing. Tubbo leaned in for a hug, whispering ‘ good luck ’ as Tommy reminded him to get upstairs before Niki saw him.

 --- 

Wilbur was sitting in the front seat, Techno taking shotgun and leaving Tommy in the back.

“Who took you to the race?”

“Tubbo,” Tommy answered. “Niki knew he was there.”

Techno glanced at Wilbur, who nodded in confirmation. “Just...be careful. And use common sense. I don’t need Phil on my ass cause you got into some shady shit, alright?”

Tommy nodded.

“And whatever you do, don’t tell Phil,” Techno warned. “And--”

“Did you smoke anything?” Wilbur interrupted?

Tommy bristled. “ No , I didn’t smoke anything.”

“Really?” He drawled. “Cause you smell a lot like weed.”

“I didn’t smoke anything,” Tommy repeated.

“Don’t let Phil know. You’ll never hear the end of it.” Wilbur turned onto their street, slowing down.

“Maybe you should be worried about Phil finding out about you smoking. I didn’t do shit,” Tommy spat.

Wilbur scoffed. “I’d get a lecture. You would get sent back to wherever you came from.”

“Wilbur,” Techno quietly warned. He was waved off.

Tommy mentally remembered the information. He had a feeling that Wilbur was bluffing, but he figured he should remember it anyway. 

He smirked, leaning forwards and speaking quietly, letting his voice carry throughout the rest of the car. “You’re just pissed that I’m replacing you as Phil’s second favorite son.”

He hit the nail on the head. In the mirror, Wilbur’s jaw clenched, not revealing anymore than that. Techno stiffened in the passenger seat, the hand that was tapping against the armrest stilled. No one spoke until they got out of the car.

Tommy didn’t feel like he won. He slumped back in his seat, very much feeling like he didn’t win.

...But at least Wilbur finally shut the fuck up.

The porch lights were off as they pulled up to the house, Techno immediately sighing in relief when he noticed. He twisted in his seat, facing Tommy. “Okay, when you go in, you’re gonna take a shower and go straight to bed. In the morning, you’re gonna tell him that you were tired so you got one of your friends to drop you off.”

“Sure. I can do that.” Why were they covering for him? The thought rang inside his head, but Tommy didn’t voice any of his concerns, stepping out of the car and following Techno and Wilbur up the steps and into the house.

Their movements were practiced, Wilbur quickly opening his phone flashlight and Techno re-locking the door and tossing the keys to Wilbur, who set them on the foyer table. Tommy reached the foot of the stairs, halfway through drafting a text to Dream before he stopped in his tracks. 

Phil, looking unamused, sat in the formal dining room, in total darkness.

“Um. Techno?”

“ Shut up, ” Wilbur hissed. “Do you want us to be caught?”

Phil flicked the lamp light on. “It’s a bit too late for that, mate.”

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. They were screwed.

Techno cleared his throat, “We were just--”

“Sneaking Tommy back from a party. Got it,” Phil finished, nodding to the couch in front of him, “Take a seat.”

The three of them sat, Tommy nervously tapping a finger against his thigh. He didn’t know what Phil did when he was mad. He didn’t know whether Techno or Wilbur would be in trouble too, and whether they’d take it out on him. It was technically his fault, anyways. He didn’t know.

“You said you would be going to Tubbo’s house.”

Tommy nodded in confirmation. “And that’s where I was.”

Phil looked unamused. “You neglected to mention that there would be an extra 80 people there.”

“80 is a stretch.”

“Tommy, if you wanted to go to a party then you could have asked, and we would have been able to come to some sort of compromise. ”

“Sorry,” Tommy stated flatly.

“Is that all you have to say?”

Tommy swallowed. “Yeah...”

Phil let out a sigh, turning to Wilbur and Techno. “Did you two really expect you could pull this off without me knowing? You guys are going to college soon, you have to stop being so irresponsible.”

“Sorry Phil,” Techno and Wilbur chorused quietly. Phil nodded for them to leave, and Tommy took a shaky breath as he watched them go.

“Tommy...did you take 60 dollars from my wallet?”

“No. Maybe ask Wilbur. Are we done here?”

Phil looked amused, all of the sudden. Normally that was never a good sign, but Phil didn’t seem like he was going to hurt him. “C’mon mate. You’re forgetting that I’ve been through this before, with Techno. You can tell me the truth.”

Tommy scowled. He was nothing like Techno. “I’m not like Techno,” he said aloud.

“What did you need the money for?”

Nothing. Absolutely nothing. He reached into his back pocket, pulling out the twenties and setting them on the table. “Sorry.”

Phil sighed again, making no move to take the money. “Tommy, I know you’re trying to act out, I get it. ” Phil didn’t get shit. “But I want you to know, I’m not going to hurt you. Ever. Nothing you do would make me want to hurt you. And I’m gonna try my hardest to let you stay here as long as you can. But that means that you have to try too.”

Tommy stayed silent, not meeting Phil’s eyes. Phil didn’t speak, and he doesn’t either, at least not for a few minutes. “Is that it?” He finally asked. Tommy had meant for the words to come out dry and flat, but they didn’t.

Phil sent him a small small. “That’s all. It’s late, and you should get to bed. Goodnight, Tommy.”

 --- 

Tommy stood outside Techno’s room, squeezing his fingers. What was he even doing? He should have just asked Dream to pick him up. He glanced back down at his phone, seeing his last text.

dream: see you in a few

It had been a few. It had been multiple fews since Tommy began standing outside Technoblade’s door.

To his left, Wilbur opened his bedroom door, giving Tommy a judgmental look before jogging down the stairs. Tommy took a deep breath, taking a step forwards and knocking on the door.

“ Come in. ”

Taking a breath, Tommy pushed the door open. Techno was leaning against his headboard, a laptop propped on his lap. He looked a bit surprised with Tommy, pushing his laptop lid down a bit to speak. “What’s up?”

Fucking hell, Tommy was already regretting this. “Hey Techno. Uh, do you think you could give me a ride somewhere? Like to Dream’s house?”

Techno paused for a moment, before nodding. “He lives by a Walmart, right? Sure.” And just like that, he swung his legs out of bed, messily throwing his hair into a ponytail. “I’ll be down in a sec.”

Tommy nodded, muttering a ‘ thanks, ’and headed downstairs. He did that. And Techno said yes. And that was it, no hassle at all. He grinned to himself, shoving his shoes on. 

Techno came downstairs a few moments later, switching his pajama bottoms for joggers. “You want anything from Walmart, Wil?”

“Nah.”

Techno nodded, grabbing the keys to his Camaro and popping a stick of gum into his mouth. He stuck the pack out to Tommy, who nodded at the unspoken offer and unwrapped the minty gum.

Now that he thought about it, it had been...quite a while since Tommy had last chewed on gum. He was never a huge fan, and his last house wasn’t either. The last time had to have been one of the nights spent at the garage with Clara.

“Seatbelt,” Techno reminded, turning on the radio and flipping through the stations before turning it off.

“Not into Top 40?”

Techno scoffed. “Not particularly. You?”

“Eh,” he answered, “It’s not bad, just not my thing. I’m more into rock, I guess.” He didn’t hate all pop. Taylor Swift was pretty cool.

“I’m seriously surprised that you and Wilbur don’t get along.”

“Wilbur’s an asshole.”

“That he is,” Techno laughed, and Tommy noted how the words were said fondly. “But so are you.”

Techno wasn’t wrong , per say. But he was an asshole to people who were assholes to him first. Wilbur was just an asshole all around. “Agree to disagree, on that one.”

Techno nodded. “My next topic, racing.”

Tommy swallowed. “Racing.”

“You race don’t you?” Tommy must have stayed silent for a moment too long, because Techno continued. “Oh come on. Don’t even try to hide it. The way you reacted when you saw Anarchy for the first time? Anyone could tell you were just itching to pop the hood open.”

“Okay, I wasn’t itching. I just...thought it would be interesting to see what the engine looked like. Maybe I just like cars.”

“Really? I can tell a racer when I see one.”

Tommy grumbled in his seat, ignoring the burst of pride he felt at Techno’s words. He hadn’t seen the senior race personally, but everyone at the party parted for him like the Dead Sea, and Purpled had basically said he was the best, anyway.

“You any good?”

Tommy knew he was good. After all, Clara herself trained him, and in her own words, “ I didn’t train no bitch. ” The thought made him snort, and he nodded. “I’m alright.”

“I could take you out driving sometime.” What? Techno said the words casually, keeping his eyes on the road. “I know a place that isn’t the race track but that’s where I used to practice. I don’t just let anyone drive Anarchy, but once I’ve seen you drive enough to know that you won’t crash her, I wouldn’t mind letting you use her from time to time.”

If Tommy had water in his mouth, he would have spit it out. Instead, he settled for coughing, Techno sending him a wary glance as Tommy leaned a hand on the dashboard.

“Do you need water?”

He waved him off. “No, no, I’m fine. And yeah, that, uh, sounds good.”

Techno sent him a half smile, and he hesitantly responded with one of his own.

Chapter Text

“Aw what the fuck was that?” Sapnap groaned, throwing his controller on the floor. “That was so unfair. You two are overpowered.”

“We are not, ” Dream defended, smirking.

Tommy nodded. “Maybe you’re just shit, Sapnap.” George laughed, flicking the back of his head.

The front door opened, Foolish stepping into the room. “Hey Dream, Dream’s friends,” He greeted, balancing on one foot to pull his shoe off. “Wait, Tommy?”

Tommy grinned, setting his controller down and standing up. “Hey Foolish!” Tommy had known his family for over four years, but he still didn’t know the man’s real name. As far as he was aware, everyone just called him Foolish.

“Hey Tommy! It’s been a while since you’ve been around. Still kicking ass in Madden?”

“Fifa, this time,” Tommy corrected. “But of course.”

Foolish laughed, clapping his shoulder. “Sapnap, you and George don’t even have a chance. Dream and Tommy have been playing together since Dream was, like, 14 or something.”

“Four years,” Sapnap whistled. “Jesus Christ. What about NBA Live?”

“Maybe next time. I should probably get going now.”

“Already?” Dream remarked. “I can take you.” Before Tommy can refute, he continued, “It’s like five minutes. I’ll take you.”

With a roll of his eyes, Tommy agreed, moving to tug his sneakers on. The soles were falling off, and he needed to replace them soon. 

Dream bid his quick goodbyes to Sapnap and George, both of which ignored him in favor of whatever game they started playing. He swung his keys around his finger as they walked to the driveway, pulling the door close behind him. 

“You didn’t race with this, right?” Tommy asked motioning to the white Acura that had been taking him to school for the past week. 

“ Don’t ,” Dream corrected with an amused huff. “I’m not retired, just busy. And no, my usual car’s in the garage. I’ll show you next time you come over.”

Tommy grinned. “And I’ll let you know if it’s shit. Watch it be green,” he snorted. When Dream didn't laugh, he turned to face him. “She’s not actually green right?”

“I- What’s wrong with green?”

Tommy burst out laughing. “Are you serious? Fucking green? You’ve got to be kidding. Of course it’s fucking green.”

“Green’s a good color!” Dream tried to defend. “It's scientifically proven to be the calmest color, actually. “

“Not lime green. Cmon, you couldn’t have gone for red if you wanted to be flashy? Even blue would’ve been better.”

“Shut up,” Dream grumbled. “She looks great.”

“Mhm. I’m sure.”

Dream stopped at the red light, rapping his fingers on the steering wheel. “Damn, I still can’t believe you were at races when Clara and I were teaching you to drive.”

“I guess you did a pretty good job then, considering I’ve never crashed at one of them before.” As soon as he spoke the words, Tommy paused, mentally backtracking. He didn’t mean for that tidbit of information to come out at least until next Tuesday.

It took Dream a few seconds to notice too. “ At one of them before. You’ve never crashed at a race. You were racing.”

It wasn’t really a question, but Tommy nodded. “Yeah...” He said quietly.

Dream scoffed, seemingly somewhat amused. “I should’ve known.” He paused as he turned left. “Clara took you to races, then?”

Tommy nodded slowly. Dream seemed to be taking it well. He had always been a bit protective when it came to Tommy’s old foster siblings, for good reason. Dream and Clara never really got along, but they were civil, and that was all Tommy could ask for. He had wished they got along better, considering she was about to be a permanent fixture in his life, along with Dream, but...well...shit happened. “Yeah, she showed me around some.”

“Didn’t she also let you try weed?” Dream’s eyes were carefully focused on the road. Okay, maybe he wasn’t taking it as well as Tommy initially thought.

Tommy frowned. “I mean, yeah. I’m sure you and Sapnap would've done the same thing at my age.”

“It’s a bit different when two fifteen year olds get their hands on marijuana compared to a 17 year old giving it to someone two years younger than them. And the fact that you’re able to down tequila shots like it’s nothing. 15 year olds aren’t supposed to have alcohol tolerances already.”

“You’re acting like she tried to drug me,” Tommy stressed.  “She offered and I accepted. And she’s my sister , not a complete stranger. I know you two never got along--”

“This isn’t even about that,” Dream interrupted. “I’m more concerned about how she continuously put you in unsafe situations.”

Tommy groaned, turning away from Dream. “So what , she was a little irresponsible. She was 17. Don’t try and tell me you’ve never been irresponsible like that.”

“I’ve been irresponsible, Tommy. But I’d never be irresponsible with you.”

Tommy stayed silent for a moment, letting the words sit between them. The car seemed stuffy, too stuffy, and he felt the sudden urge to open up a window. To his left, Dream opened his mouth before closing it and letting out a sigh. Tommy scoffed speaking quietly, “Well it doesn’t fucking matter ‘cause she’s dead now, does it?”

The rest of the ride was spent in silence.

 --- 

“It’s been three days, Tubbo,” Tommy complained.

“Yeah, and Ponk said 80 hours,” Tubbo retorted.

Purpled perked up, picking his head off of the couch arm, “I mean 80 hours is about three days and eight hours, so we’re only a couple hours off.”

“Nerd,” Ranboo quipped.

Tommy nodded vigorously at Purpled’s words, looking to Tubbo, who was seated at the bench. The brunette continued kicking his legs off the side of the work bench, texting someone that was hopefully Ponk. The four of them had been kicked out three days ago for the man to finish the paint job, something about toxic fumes and being too young. Tommy had a feeling he just wanted them out of the garage.

“Okay, I just texted Ponk--”

“And?”

“I’m getting there, calm down. He says we can take her out but not to call him if we screw up the paint job.”

Tommy grinned, jumping off of the couch and dragging Ranboo with him to the other side of the room. The polish had dried beautifully, creating a bright sheen on the red paint, dim in the shitty lighting of the garage. It was perfect, and Tommy’s hand involuntarily began tapping against his thigh.

Ranboo snorted beside him. “Jesus, you look like you’re experiencing withdrawals. Are you guys seeing this?” He asked, directing the question to Tubbo and Purpled.

“His eyes are so wide . It’s like he’s in love,” Tubbo laughed.

Purpled mentioned something else about his tapping, but Tommy ignored their jokes, completely focused on the car. He was going to drive . Not just drive, but race. He could deal with the dumb jokes if it meant he was allowed to take Tubbo’s car out for a spin.

“What are we naming it?” Purpled asked, finally pulling Tommy out of his head. “Does it already have a name?”

Tubbo shook his head. “I’m not creative. Someone else go for it.”

Tommy smirked. “ Clementine .”

“What the fuck, she’s not even orange.”

“ Clementine .”

“That’s a terrible name. And why do you say it like that?”

“ Clementine, ” he stressed. It was perfect. 

“What about Honeybee? I like Honeybee,” Tubbo added. Absolutely no one responded to him, and Tubbo groaned, tossing him the keys. “Fine then. Whatever floats your boat. You ready to ride this thing?”

Tommy’s grin turned feral.

 --- 

Purpled directed him to drive to the regular racing location, where sure enough, it was still abandoned. The spray-painted white line was still in place, along with the cones and the platform, but the speaker set was gone, probably for good reason. The streetlights were off, making it pretty dark, and the first turn obscured by buildings looked pitch black.

Tommy pulled to a stop by the starting line, putting the car in park. “Are you sure no one comes here?”

“Scared?” Purpled taunted, scrolling through Spotify until he reached a song he liked, letting it play through the car speakers loudly. “But yeah, there are construction signs on the other side that I think Quackity bought.”

Tommy nodded, adjusting his mirror for the last time and snorting when Tubbo pulled a screwdriver out of his pocket. “Do you seriously carry one everywhere?”

Tubbo flicked his shoulder, getting out of the car without a response and headed to the brick wall of one of the buildings, unscrewing something. Purpled and Ranboo began a rendition of Bob the Builder while replacing the name with Tubbo, and Tommy laughed along with them, jolting when the street suddenly lit up.

The streetlight above them turned on first, followed by the next one and the next one, circling around the track. Tubbo returned with a grin, waving the screwdriver around. “And you doubted me.”

Tommy rolled his eyes. “Get in the car.” A few seconds later. “Is everyone ready?” After a chorus of yes’s , he pressed on the gas.

Silence.

“We’re going a little slow...” Ranboo began.

Tommy huffed. “I’ve literally never raced here before, do you want me to crash?” He continued cruising around the makeshift track, swerving between buildings and making note of sharp turns and focusing on memorizing the track.

He pulled up to the white line once more, reaching back to adjust the NOS dials, “Okay, now are you ready?”

The three of them nodded, and Tommy pressed on the gas, the buildings and street lights becoming nothing but a colorful blur as he raced past them, a grin painted on his face. Tubbo and Purpled whooped in the background, cheering everytime he turned. The engine thrummed beneath him, almost comforting as he sped past the brick buildings, coasting for a few moments before picking up speed once again.

Before he knew it, he was heading back to the start, the home stretch. He reached behind him again, flicking on the NOS and the car pulled forward, his head hitting the back seat as he watched the speedometer go up, and up, and up until he passed over the white line. He coasted, barely pressing on the brakes until he reached the first turn, maneuvering the car back around and driving back.

“Holy shit,” Tubbo said, pulling his seatbelt off. “That was fucking amazing. Niki’s let me in her car before, but never like that. ”

Purpled nodded, running a hand through his hair. “That was so cool. Like, exhilarating. ”

Tommy grinned at the compliments, putting the car into park. “What can I say? I’m pretty fuckin’ great.” He glanced back at Ranboo. “You good, man?”

“I think I’m gonna throw up.”

 --- 

Once they had rushed Ranboo out of the car, only for him to decide he was better after a few sips of water, the four of them got back inside, turning Purpled’s music down. 

“Guys,” Tubbo began. “Like, no pressure or anything, but do you wanna christen the car?”

Purpled snorted. “I don’t think you know what that means.”

“What does it mean?” Ranboo asked. “I failed English.”

Tubbo ignored him. “Yeah I do.”

“No you don’t,” Tommy added, fiddling with Purpled’s phone and letting his own music play out. No one stopped him, so he continued queuing songs. “And Ranboo, you failed English? You’re like, a nerd.”

“Okay, I didn't pass the fourth grade end-of-year test, but the point still stands. What does it mean?” He repeated.

“It’s when you have sex in a place for the first time,” Purpled answered easily.

“Tubbo, what did you say you wanted to do? ”

“Aw, shut up, man, no it doesn’t!” Tubbo defended, “It means to smoke in a place for the first time.”

Tommy laughed. “Yeah, no it doesn’t. Search it up.”

“I will.” A few moments. “Oh.”

Tommy reached for the phone, “What? We’re right, right?”

Tubbo moved it out of reach. “I mean, we both are. To perform an act (usually having intercourse or smoking pot) in a new location for the first time, ” he recited. “So I’m not wrong.”

“I’m not wrong either, but I’m down,” Purpled said, clarifying, “For the weed.”

Tubbo smacked him, pulling a blunt out a plastic bag anyways.

“Are we seriously gonna hotbox a car?” Ranboo asked, sounding exasperated and amused at the same time. “And how many things can you even fit into your coat pocket, jeez, Tubbo.”

Tubbo grinned, tossing Purpled a lighter. “You don’t know the half of it.”

The blunt was passed to him after a few moments, and he inhaled the earthy flavor into his throat, letting his eyes close briefly before passing it to Ranboo. Tubbo and Ranboo bickered about trivial things for at least a few minutes, until Tommy uncharacteristically spoke up in the lull of conversation, “You guys are cool.” He wasn’t entirely sure why he said it, but the words were spoken. It wasn’t like he got sappy when high, or anything.

Tubbo smiled lopsidedly at that, “Of course we are.”

“Aww,” Purpled cooed. “I think you’re cool too, Tommy.”

“Shut up.” It was hard, finding good friends. And he somehow managed to do it within two weeks. It would suck when he left. The blunt was passed back to him, and he took another hit. The edges in his vision softened, and he blinked slowly. “I’ll miss you.” Okay, maybe , he got sappy when he got high.

“Where are you going?” For someone who clearly didn’t smoke often, Ranboo seemed pretty unchanged. 

Tommy sighed, waving his hand and dropping his head on the side of the seat. “You know. Like when I leave.”

“You don’t like the Minecrafts?” Purpled inquired.

“It’s not that,” he said, because it wasn’t . Phil seemed nice, and Techno seemed cool, and Wilbur existed, and he didn’t want to leave. “It’s just...inevitable, isn’t it? My last house--” He cut himself off.

“…Your last house?” Tubbo asked gently. 

Tommy had a feeling he’d regret the trauma dumping when he was sober. “I told you guys that I broke my wrist playing sports, or something, but it was my last foster dad. I thought he was alright in the beginning, but that was until he got drunk.”

“Shit, are you okay?”

Tommy shrugged, humming. His vision was hazy, and his mind felt like there was fog drifting in it. “I’m okay. I’m sure Phil wouldn’t do that, but I dunno. It’s inevitable, me leaving.” 

Tubbo reached across the console, picking up his hand from where it laid on the seat and squeezing it. Tommy squeezed back, smiling when both Ranboo and Purpled reached over the seat to reach his shoulder. Tommy let his eyes close, letting the fog take over.

Chapter Text

“You smell like weed.” Wilbur would know, and Tommy absolutely stank of the substance. 

The teen knew too, not even bothering to deny the statement. “Fuck off.”

Wilbur rolled his eyes, turning away. It wasn't his problem. Unfortunately, the gremlin ended up following him into the kitchen. It was late, enough so that Techno was locked in his room for the rest of the night and that Phil was taking his nightly shower.

Before Tommy showed up, 9-10 PM were his favorite hours, when ventured out of his room and headed downstairs, relaxing in the dim lighting of the kitchen. He’d pull out a book, or watch TV, or just stare at the ceiling but it was nice. It was nice being alone for a change.

So when Tommy showed up, and suddenly started doing the same thing exclusively at 9 to 10 PM, it pissed Wilbur off a little.

He looked mildly surprised that Wilbur was still there, and he really wanted to tell him that this was his time, and he had it first, but the thought sounded petty even in his head, so he refrained. He still didn’t go back upstairs, though. He had known Phil since he was 10, and even though it had only happened twice before, he could recognize when Phil was in Adopting Mode. Techno and Tommy seemed to get along fine, from what he had told him. Which meant Tommy was here to stay, whether Wilbur liked it or not (he didn’t), which meant he had to start reclaiming territory at some point.

The kid looked at him curiously from across the island for a few minutes before deciding on ignoring him, rummaging through the fridge. If he was high before, he wasn’t now, so Wilbur ignored him too, scrolling aimlessly on his phone. When he glanced up again, Tommy was halfway into a chocolate pudding. Wilbur couldn't bring himself to care, instead looking back at his phone when it vibrated. 

Dadza: Did Tommy get back yet?

Wilbur : ye

Dadza : Oh ok 👍

Dadza : Try and talk to him if you’re feeling up for it!

He sighed. “Tommy?”

Tommy looked up sharply, like he was readying to argue. “What?”

Wilbur genuinely couldn’t care less about the fucking pudding. “We have to do something tomorrow. Phil wants us to bond or something.” If he survived a day with the child, Phil would get off his back, and he could continue sulking in peace.

“Tomorrow?” He looked vaguely surprised. “Do we have to?”

“Phil wants us to bond,” he repeated slowly. “So if we leave the house for a couple hours, then he’ll stop nagging the both of us.”

Tommy scowled at him. “ Okay , whatever.”

 --- 

“Techno, please, ” Wilbur said, dragging out the vowel. He could feel the blood rushing to his face but he stayed where he was, Techno’s upside down body not even turning around to humor him. “What if I kill him? What if he’s so annoying that I punt him? Who’s gonna stop me?”

“Oh shut up, Wilbur,” he got in response. “Tommy’s not even that bad.”

“Right, I forgot you two were besties now,” he said drily, and Techno finally turned to face him.

He looked exasperated. “Wil, I have shit to do. College appli--”

“When was the last time we hung out?” Wilbur interrupted. “Like, I don’t even care about Tommy being there, but seriously, when was the last time?”

Was he guilt tripping Techno? A little bit. Did he also miss his brother? A little more than a little bit.

Techno stilled his tapping. “Fine, Wilbur. When are we doing this?”

Wilbur grinned, picking his head off the edge of the bed to right himself, wobbling for a few seconds before shaking it off. “Right now. Love you, Techie.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Techno muttered as Wilbur cackled, leaving the room.

His smile died as he headed to Tommy’s room knocking on the door and sticking his head in. “We’re going now. Techno’s coming, too.”

Tommy blinked, sounding considerably more interested, “Oh, Techno’s coming?”

Literally when the fuck did they even have time to bond? “That’s what I just said,” he deadpanned. “Be down in five.” 

He headed downstairs, grabbing a snack from the pantry and his keys, pulling on his shoes and waiting for the two of them to get ready. Techno came jogging down the stairs first, donning his usual hoodie and joggers, clearly not caring enough to change. Tommy showed up a few minutes later, tugging on a white sweatshirt. Wilbur didn’t think the kid owned anything other than hoodies and long sleeved t-shirts, but who was he to judge. It was basically winter, anyway.

“Where are we going?” Tommy asked in the garage.

Wilbur paused as he got in his car, putting the keys in before answering. “I dunno. We could get food or something.” The time showed that it was 4:00, but Wilbur didn’t really mind.

“Well...” Tommy dragged out. Wilbur glanced at the mirror, where the child was grinning mischievously. “We could go to Nevadas Photos.”

“You want us to run errands?” Techno asked. 

“I mean, bonding, innit?” Tommy waved a roll of film in his hand. “It’s at 12754 Mushroom Terrace.”

Techno sighed, looking amused and shrugging at Wilbur, who rolled his eyes, starting the car. It took them only a few minutes to get to their location, somewhere Wilbur had never been before despite his interest in photography freshman year. The large houses melted into family owned buildings and shops, eventually coming across an old storefront, with the name Nevadas Photos lining at the top.

Tommy hopped out before Wilbur even turned the car off, and he sent Techno a look.

Techno laughed, “Calm down, Wilbur. He’s just a kid.”

“He’s sixteen.”

“My point still stands. Are we following him in?”

Wilbur shrugged. “Bonding, right?”

They got out of the car, following where Tommy had disappeared. Inside, the face of the store opened up into a surprisingly modern looking building, looking newly renovated. Tommy was already by the cashier, talking to him while unrolling his film. He made quick glances backwards, as if to make sure that he and Techno didn’t leave their position. Techno moved to follow him after a few moments, and Wilbur took the liberty to shove a vintage camera in his face, letting his brother drone on about old photography techniques.

Wilbur didn’t mean to look at Tommy’s pictures. He really didn’t, honest. The door was already open, with the roll already unrolled on Tommy’s bed, and he genuinely thought that Tommy had found one of Phil’s old film cameras. He couldn’t make out much, but it was clear that the main focus of most of the pictures was the blond himself, almost never focused on the camera. And by that point, he was too nosy to put it down.

And by Tommy's reaction, it was clearly a sore subject. That was fine, Wilbur didn’t really care.

Tommy stepped back towards them, sticking his hands in his pockets. “We can go now.” He sent one final look at the cashier before opening the door.

“You didn’t get your prints?”

“It takes like, a week. Speaking of that, one of you two needs to drive me here next week.”

“Not it.”

Techno sent him a glare, getting into the passenger's seat, only speaking when they were all settled. “Where next?”

Wilbur tapped his fingers against the steering wheel. “The record shop. Kinoko Records.”

“Again?” Techno groaned. “I’m staying in the car.”

Wilbur snorted. “Do what you want.”

“Kinoko Records?” Tommy questioned from the back seat. “Like on Kinoko Way?”

“That would be the one,” Techno said. “Why? Oh, you used to live near there, right?” Maybe Wilbur should have actually paid attention when Phil was explaining Tommy’s situation. “Have you been?”

Tommy shook his head. “Nah, I was never allowed to.”

The car went quiet for a moment, Tommy’s face reddening in the mirror. Techno was the one to break the silence, ever so eloquently saying, “That sucks.”

Tommy laughed. “Yeah.”

The ride took them a little longer this time, crossing from their town into the next. The small town diners became large fast food chains, and people crowded the street. Wilbur sort of hated it. He couldn't imagine growing up anywhere but his town. Where everyone knew everyone and the only chain stores were a single Starbucks and Walmart. 

He already knew Techno didn’t share the same sentiment. He wanted to leave as soon as possible, because as much as he loved Esempi, it was too small for him. Not a single one of his possible colleges were within 100 miles.

They pulled into the shop, probably the only place Wilbur liked in the too-big-town, and Wilbur got out of the car, Techno continuing to scroll on his phone while Tommy hesitantly followed him out of the car.

“Wilbur!”

Wilbur grinned, immediately heading over to the man. “Sykkuno! What’s up?”

“Same old. It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” Sykkuno laughed, covering his mouth. “Hi! I’m Sykkuno!”

Tommy tentatively flashed a smile. “Hi, I’m Tommy.”

“Foster brother,” Wilbur clarified, “Got anything new for me?”

“In the back, where it always is,” Sykkuno smiled.

Wilbur sent him a grin, heading to his usual section. He didn’t come here that often, but enough so that he knew where everything was and had heard over half of the things in the place. “You can look around, if you want.”

Tommy nodded, his eyes scanning the signs. “Where’s the alternative rock section? Indie rock is fine, too.”

“You like alt rock.” It was a statement, not really a question.

Tommy scowled. “You don’t have to sound so skeptical .”

Wilbur turned back around, continuing in his path. “Over here.” He began flipping through albums, looking for something he hadn’t collected yet or something that seemed interesting.

Did it count as bonding if Tommy was essentially just following Wilbur as he bought vinyls? Probably not. “Tommy.” Tommy looked up from idly looking at album covers. “I can buy for you if you want.”

Tommy’s expression melted into a surprised look. “Huh?”

For whatever reason, Wilbur scowled. “The prices are pretty cheap here. Just don’t go overboard.”

Tommy blinked a few times, going back to flipping through the records with a new interest. Within minutes, Wilbur had picked out three, two that he hadn’t been able to find before, and another one he had never listened to. “How much longer?”

He didn’t mean to make it sound condescending, but he had things to do and he didn’t entirely want to spend over two hours with Tommy Innit.

Tommy glanced around, picking up an album. “I’m done.”

Wilbur wrinkled his nose at the cover. “Have you heard that before?”

Tommy scowled. “No.”

“It’s shit.”

“I don’t care. The album cover looks cool.” It really didn’t.

Wilbur rolled his eyes, plucking it out of Tommy’s hand and walking back into the aisle. “What do you normally listen to?”

Tommy crossed his arms. “Uh, Modern Baseball. The Front Bottoms, I guess.”

Wilbur nodded, crouching and flipping through the alt-rock section. “You’re buying this. Let’s go.”

“I-What? Lemme see,” Tommy sputtered, reaching for it. Wilbur made no move to keep it away for him, already moving to the front desk. “Sorority Noise?”

“Hey Sykkuno.” He glanced back at Tommy, once again grabbing the record right out of his hand. “You’ll like it. Trust me.”

“Hey Wilbur, Wilbur’s brother.”

“Foster,” they both corrected simultaneously.

Sykkuno quirked a smile. “Foster. Is this it?”

“Mhm.”

He continued ringing the items up, placing them in a bag and sliding it across the checkout. Wilbur picked up the plastic bag, briefly looking around for Tommy before finding him at the front of the shop, putting money into a claw machine.

“Those things are a scam, you know?”

Tommy was grinning, making no motion to stop. “Not for me they aren’t. You know how everyone has that one superpower that’s completely useless but they can do perfectly? This is mine.”

“Claw machines. Claw machines are your superpower,” Wil repeated dryly.

Tommy was practically bouncing, nodding completely seriously, Wilbur’s skepticism not affecting him in the slightest. He squinted through the plastic, maneuvering the claw over one of the plushies that filled the machine, darting to the side of the glass to adjust his angle. It was a bit amusing. Just a little bit. 

“You’re literally a child.”

“ Shut up . Go do taxes or something.”

He pressed the red button, and the two of them watched as the metal claw dropped down, picking up a stuffed orca and dropping it into the plastic box. Shit, he actually did it. Tommy grinned, crouching down to pick up the orca, brandishing it proudly. “Ha! And look who doubted me.”

“Shit,” Wilbur admitted. “Cool.” It was the best Tommy would get, and the blond knew it too, smiling smugly.

“Wow,” he mocked. “The great and uptight Wilbur Minecraft complimenting me? What have I ever done to receive such a high compliment?”

Wilbur rolled his eyes in response. “Shut up. I’m not uptight.”

Tommy waved him off. “Sure you aren’t. You want it?”

“Huh?”

“The whale,” he clarified. “You want it?”

Wilbur blinked, and suddenly the plushie was thrust into his hands as Tommy left the shop, getting into the back of his car.

He looked down at the stuffed animal, just a simple black and white orca, and back at Tommy, who looked to be pestering Techno through the windshield, then back at the orca.

Oh.

Chapter Text

“Are we getting food before we go back?”

Techno huffed in his seat. “We fucking better. You dragged me out all the way to fucking Kinoko and you aren’t gonna--”

“ Jesus, we’ll stop by Taco Bell or something,” Wilbur rolled his eyes, and he caught Tommy’s eyes in the mirror. “You good with that?”

Tommy nodded. “Fine with me.” Wilbur had been...surprisingly tolerable for most of the day, and in turn, Tommy toned his, uh, personality down.

Wilbur turned into a complex, almost scarily close to where he lived for his past two houses. He recognized the area easily. He’d sneak out to the McDonalds there sometimes when his last fosters didn’t feed him, and in the house before that, he learned to drive in the back parking lot.

Fucking hell, just by looking out the windows, he could recognize some of his old classmates, just loitering around. Everyone knew his face, and he tugged his hood over his head, despite the weather. Techno gave him an odd look when he glanced back, but ignored him. 

Wilbur put the car in park, undoing his seatbelt and stepping out of the car. Techno followed him, and Tommy cursed under his breath, wondering why he didn’t just say he wasn’t hungry. That he hated Taco Bell. There were so many excuses he could’ve used. He got out of the car anyway, following Wilbur into the building. His old foster mom could be here, pissed at how he put her husband in jail. She never was much help. There was so much that could go wrong, and Tommy regretted everything.

The three of them stood in line until they reached the front, Wilbur rattling off an order for both him, Techno, and Phil, while Tommy said what he usually got. They made it to the parking lot before they were interrupted. 

“Wait, is that Tommy?” He heard distantly. Fuck . Then, louder, “Tommy!”

He turned around, yanking his hood down to face the speaker. Luke, an acquaintance at best, who was unfortunately close with Freddie, stood with Bitzel, waving. Tommy hesitantly walked over. “Hey Luke, Bitzel.”

“Hey, man! No one’s heard from you for weeks! How’ve you been?” Then, he lowered his voice. “I’m really sorry about the whole...thing. We all had no idea, and I can’t believe--”

“I’m fine,” Tommy interrupted. “I moved.”

Luke glanced back at Techno and Wilbur, who stood far enough away to give the illusion of privacy, even though Luke was speaking loud enough for half the parking lot to hear. “Yeah, new foster family? Are they good or like the old one? Ow! ” He said as Bitzel unsubtly kicked him in the shin. “What?”

“Sorry about him, he--”

“Is that Freddie and Eryn? Oh, they probably missed you!” What the fuck. This wasn’t supposed to happen. Tommy followed his gaze, stopping on two figures holding slushies in the distance. God , he felt like throwing up. His old best friends. The ones he completely ditched four months ago, after Clara. 

Luke waved them over from standing in front of the ice cream shop, and the two hurriedly came to a stop in front of Tommy.

“Tommy!” Freddie exclaimed. “Holy shit, it’s been so long.”

Eryn blinked. “Why didn’t-- You didn’t call.”

Tommy swallowed, “Yeah he, um, broke my phone. And I couldn’t really find you guys from a hospital bed.”

Eryn’s face broke. “Oh. We tried searching for you, but--”

“Transferred to a different hospital, out of town,” Tommy answered. “Sorry.”

“Um, Mrs. and Mr. Simons were asking about you. I didn’t really know what to say so I just sort of avoided her but--”

Tommy nodded frantically. “Yeah, uh, don’t tell either of them where I am. Thank you, for that. I’m just...not really ready to...”

“Yeah, yeah, of course.”

Both Luke and Bitzel had thankfully left, leaving the three former friends standing alone. God, this was fucking awkward.

Freddie took a shaky breath, the slushie he held in his hand completely neglected. “I’m sorry, we had no idea. We just thought...that you didn’t want to be friends with us anymore.”

Tommy shook his head. “No, I just...It was hard.” Why did he stay there? Tommy didn’t even know the answer to that. “I wasn’t allowed to-- and then the whole incident--” I don’t want to be here, he realized with a start. It was too early, the wounds were still fresh and he didn’t want to do this in the middle of a Taco Bell parking lot. It had only been a month since he was almost beaten to death, and he shouldn’t have to do this right now. “I have to go.”

Freddie and Eryn had always deserved better, but they were used to Tommy being a shit friend.

And then he was walking back, slamming the car door closed. The sound followed twice more before the car was moving again. Neither Wilbur nor Techno tried talking to him during the ride, instead just exchanging silent glances.

Why did he stay? He spent three months, three months , with that fucker. He should have left as soon as he got drunk the first time, or hell, even the first time he didn’t get a meal. Puffy would have pulled him out as soon as she could, but he stayed.

God , it made him sick.

“ Stop the car! ” He heard, muddled, and it took a second to realize that he was hyperventilating. He couldn’t breathe, it felt like he couldn’t breathe. 

They stopped moving, and Tommy pulled his knees to his chest, squeezing his eyes shut. Mrs. Simons was looking for him, which meant he’d have to see Clara again. He hadn’t seen Clara since she died, he didn’t even go to her funeral, and oh god , he couldn’t focus on anything, everything was just too much and--

“Tommy. Tommy. ” Wilbur was sitting right next to him now, twisting in the seat to face him. “C’mon, Tommy, you gotta breathe, alright? In...and out.”  Tommy complied, tearing through a sob. Since when was he crying? “In...and out.” He wasn’t ready, he wasn’t ready. He didn’t want to go back, it was too much. It was too much. He struggled to follow Wilbur’s directions, interrupting himself with sobs.

Wilbur continued speaking, slowly bringing his hand up and prying Tommy’s hand from his hair, where it was tugging harshly. “You’re doing fine. Just keep breathing,” he said softly between counts.

Tommy hiccuped, opening his mouth to speak before hoarsely coughing. I can’t, I can’t, I can’t, I can’t--

There was something cold in his hand. Water. 

“Drink,” Techno instructed from the front seat, not unkindly.

The water was lukewarm as it slid down his throat, and vaguely tasted of plastic. Still, he gulped down half the bottle, squeezing his hands once it was taken out of his hand.

“Can you tell me five things you can see?” 

He rubbed at his eyes, his voice coming out clearer this time. “You. Techno. The car seat. I don't-- I can‘t--”

“That’s okay,” Wilbur said softly. “What about outside? Can you see anything there?”

Tommy picked his head up, looking outside the window to his right. There was an ice cream shop, with a cartoon cow on the top. “A cow. Ice cream.”

“Good, good. Four things you can hear?” 

“You. Techno.” Techno hadn’t spoken in at least a minute, neither of them said anything. “The engine. The air conditioning.”

“Three things you can feel?”

“I’m good now. I’m fine.”

Wilbur ignored him, repeating, “Three things you can feel?”

Tommy sighed, running through the rest of the exercise with him. Clara used to have him do the same thing whenever he was on the verge of a panic attack, so he supposed it helped. 

“Plastic,” he finished bluntly. 

Techno snorted. “This water bottle has been in here for weeks. No wonder.”

“If I die of plastic poisoning I’m blaming you.”

Wilbur huffed. “What was that about?”

Tommy scowled. “Nothing.”

“...Alright, but what should I tell Phil?”

“Nothing,” he repeated. “I’m fine. It was nothing.”

“Tommy you just had a panic attack in the middle of the road,” Techno said bluntly. Tommy winced. “We have to tell Phil something . That wasn’t written in your file.”

He wrinkled his nose. “You read my file?”

“I mean, Phil did and passed on some of it. I just know it didn’t say anything about panic attacks.”

Tommy sighed. “I didn’t have them for a while, and then nothing from my last house was reported, cause of the whole...court stuff. I was a bit busy.”

Wilbur moved away, getting back into the driver's seat but peering back to look at Tommy. “Court stuff?”

“ God, Wil, did you even listen?” Techno groaned.

“My last foster dad’s in prison for child abuse. 2nd degree assault and child neglect. And a few more I forgot.” Honestly, he didn’t remember a lot from those three months. It was a coping mechanism, apparently, according to Puffy.

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh. You can start driving now, I’m fine.” Tommy reached over, grabbing the old water bottle back from the center console and downing the rest. Wilbur gave him one last concerned look before turning back, pulling back into the main road.

“...I get panic attacks sometimes,” Techno said out of the blue. “I was adopted by Phil when I was 13, so I didn’t have it as bad as some people. Mainly just child neglect and shit, but there was one, uh, physically abusive house. Phil probably mentioned it, but yelling and shouting is a trigger. Loud noises in general. I wasn’t allowed to speak there, or I’d get punished. It was almost better just staying quiet and out of everyone's way.”

“Shit. That sucks, man.”

Techno laughed shortly. “Thanks. Wilbur?”

Tommy blinked. “Are we just trauma dumping now? Is that what we’re doing?”

“Bonding,” Wilbur simply said. “Uh, I was adopted when I was 10, so I was still the cute kid that everyone wanted. So I was alright, I guess.”

Techno snorted. “He can’t remember anything before Phil.”

“Shut up.” Wilbur scowled, adjusting the mirror so he could see Tommy in the reflection.

Tommy blinked. “You don’t...remember?”

“Nothing from the first 10 years of my life. Zilch. I wasn’t abused...probably, but my therapist told me that the stress of constantly switching houses got to me and my brain decided to just ignore everything before I was in a stable house. Even the first few months with Phil are iffy.” It was probably rude to say it, so Tommy refrained, but that sounded sort of... nice.  

“Oh. Sorry about that,” he said instead.

Wilbur waved him off. “I got off easy. Tommy?”

And oh. They wanted him to talk. Right. “Uh, I dunno. This is my twentieth house, exactly.” Techno whistled at that, and Tommy snorted. “Yeah. Maybe like three or four really bad houses, and the rest were...survivable. I was going to be adopted, once.”

Techno blinked, glancing back at Tommy. “Really?”

“Mhm. I lived in Kinoko with my family at the time, just two houses before this one.”

“Mr. and Mrs. Simons,” Wilbur inferred, and Tommy nodded.

“They had a daughter, too. Clara. Everything was going great, and all. I spent nine months there. Clara was great. I haven’t had the best luck with foster siblings, but she was amazing.”

Techno snapped his fingers. “You mentioned her at the party, right? She taught you how to drive?”

“Yup. Taught me how to race, too. Got me into the scene and all.” Wilbur made no comments, so Tommy continued. “It’s kind of ironic that she died in a car crash, isn’t it? Drunk driver. It wasn’t even her fault.”

Wilbur hissed. “Shit. I’m sorry.” Techno echoed the sentiment, and Tommy waved the both of them off.

“And the Simons’ gave me away, after that. They were really sad about it, but they didn’t think they could go through with the adoption anymore.” The excuse tasted acrid in his mouth.

“That’s fucked,” Techno said quietly.

“They were grieving.”

“So were you,” Wilbur reminded, and Tommy sighed.

The house before Clara’s hadn’t been great either, and he had run away after dodging a beer bottle and headed straight to Dream and Foolish’s apartment, where he stayed for almost two weeks before Puffy had found him another home. Clara’s house was nine months of freedom, heaven , compared to what he had just gone through. 

He tried not to think about the similarities between Clara’s place and this one.

Chapter Text

Tommy and Dream haven’t spoken for a week. 

Over a week, actually. They argued last Saturday, and it was Monday now, and they haven’t spoken since. It wasn’t the longest the two had stopped talking. Dream was busy junior year, which led to a lot of short texts being their only form of communication, and Tommy wasn’t always allowed phones at the houses he stayed at. But, it was probably the longest time when neither of them had an excuse.

Dream and Tommy were unfortunately similar in that regard. The two of them were too stubborn to admit defeat. 

Purpled had been picking Tommy up for school, using Punz’s car, but Punz had gone back to college, which meant Tommy was rideless. 

Tommy stepped down the stairs earlier than usual, seeing Techno and Wilbur miserably chewing on cereal like always. He probably should have asked the day before, when he actually would have gotten a coherent answer, but he chickened out at the last second, deciding that it was a problem for Future-Tommy.

“Techno.”

“Mhm?”

Tommy tapped against his knee nervously, taking a seat. “Do you think you could take me to school today?” Techno and Wilbur always left after he did, and he honestly had no idea if they came to school together or not. Wilbur had taken to ignoring him again, just minus the usual glares, so it wouldn’t be terrible , but Techno was still the better option.

“Why?”

“Um. Dream and I...I dunno. Can you take me or not?”

Techno blinked. “You got into a fight? With Dream?” Wilbur looked up in interest and Tommy scowled. 

“You don’t have to sound so excited, dickhead. ”

Techno waved him off. “Sorry, sorry. I can take you though.”

“...Thanks, Techno. I’ll try to talk to him today, so I don’t think you’ll be stuck with me for long.”

“It’s not that much of an issue, just another person. Wilbur comes with me whenever he’s too tired to drive.”

Oh. “...Alright. Thanks.”

 --- 

“So Ranboo and I were just sitting outside the Walmart at this point, right?”

“Right.”

Tubbo continued. “And Ranboo was freaking out about how he just got kicked out of the Walmart, but it obviously wasn’t my first rodeo so I was fine--”

“Tubbo, weren’t you 12 in this story?”

“And?” Tubbo waved him off, and Tommy sighed, continuing to stuff his books into his locker. “So I got him to follow me around the back, when this random ass kid shows up, wearing this dumb sweatshirt.”

“Was it purple?”

“Of course it was purple. The guy has had his brand figured out since the second grade. Anyways, he starts telling us that we weren’t supposed to be back there, as if we didn't know, and threatens to tell one of the workers. I'm telling you, man, baby-Purpled was a menace. And then- Oh, hi Dream.”

Tommy shut his locker door, suddenly face to face with Dream. “Hi Tubbo.”

“Hi,” Tubbo repeated. Tommy glanced back at him, and he suddenly pushed himself off the row of lockers. “Oh, should I leave? I’ll leave,” and the brunette was off. A shame, Tommy wanted to hear the rest of the story. He glanced back up at Dream, who was basically looming over him, albeit still seeming a bit awkward. It wasn’t abnormal to see him so fidgety, but the nervous look painting his face was definitely new. Tommy looked back at him intently.

“Did you get a ride with Techno?”

“What the fuck, man?” Tommy frowned, breaking his gaze and pulling his backpack on. “We haven’t spoken in, like, nine days--” Tommy definitely wasn’t keeping track, “--and that ’s what you start with?”

Dream winced, “I- uh, shit. You’re right, that was...stupid. Sorry. But can we talk?”

Tommy gave him a look. “Talk.”

Dream took a breath. “Sorry for what happened in the car ride last week. I still think I’m right, but I’m, uh, sorry for pushing. I shouldn’t have done that. And , I’m sorry about asking about Techno.”

“Sorry for snapping in the car,” Tommy sighed. “And...I know you’re right, but...she was still my sister, you know? She didn’t mean any harm.” Clara was impulsive. She was impulsive, and reckless, and held no regards for the people she would take down with her when she crashed. And she was going to crash. She was so, so, close to crashing in the most spectacular way possible, before she was hit by a BMW. “And I know you didn’t mean any harm either.”

Dream cracked a smile. “Hug?”

“I’m not 12, Dream.”

“Hey, I seem to recall you liking my hugs, like, three weeks ago.”

Tommy huffed, hugging the senior. “Shut up.”

Dream laughed, ruffling his hair. “I missed you, man.”

“I missed you too.”

 --- 

Tommy blinked at his phone.

Freddie Linu

571-274-4836

He had done a lot of scheming for that contact. It had taken him at least a few hours, but he had eventually found a digitized copy of a flyer from an old bake sale Freddie organized in a library database. A flyer that listed his contact information if anyone had any questions.

The flyer was over four years old, but the numbers looked familiar, and that was all he had, so now he stood, staring at the contact. Looking at the words Freddie Linu seemed terribly bland. It used to be blueberry, if he remembered correctly. An inside joke about his blue hair.

But it felt odd looking at the contact name now. It was like he was acting like they were still friends.

Like Tommy didn’t abandon them with no explanation just to be seen getting wheeled out of his new house on a stretcher three months later.

So he switched it back.

Tommy sighed. Apparently he didn’t process grief very well. And his next foster family didn’t help either. By the time he had processed Clara’s death enough to text back, he was dodging punches on the weekends and it just seemed like too much work.

A lot of things seemed like too much work.

Calling Freddie being one of them.

With that thought, Tommy opened his door, intent on getting some air. He paused in the doorway at the pitch-black hallway. What time was it?

Scrambling for a phone, he noted that it was 1:06 AM. Oh.

The room still felt too stuffy, so he crept out further. Barely two days into his stay, and he had mapped out where the creaky steps and floorboards were, so he easily maneuvered around them as he stepped downstairs. He opened a cabinet, pulling out a mug and filling it with tap water, too hesitant to use the fridge and the sound that came with it. He sipped on his water, sliding the back door open and close, jumping when a figure already was seated on the steps.

Thankfully, Wilbur looked just as surprised to see him. “Tommy?”

Wilbur was holding a cigarette in his hand, a lighter in the other. He set the lighter down with a clatter.

“Tommy?” He repeated. “What’re you doing here? It’s late.” He shifted to get up, and Tommy flinched, taking a few steps back until he was pressed against the glass. “What--” His gaze dropped downwards, to the cigarette in his hand. “Oh shit, fuck,” he floundered, eyes wide. “I didn’t mean to--” He cut himself off, dropping the cigarette on the ground and stomping it out with his shoe. “I swear, I didn’t know you’d be awake and I completely forgot.”

Tommy swallowed. “It’s alright. It’s fine. I was just...”

“Yeah, no, of course.”

Tommy nodded, taking a seat on the steps, pressed next to the railing. The cigarette layed flattened on the ground in front of Wilbur’s left foot, burnt out. Wilbur covered it with his shoe, and Tommy fiddled with his left sleeve.

The air was cold, considering it was just on the precipice between February and March, and the night was quiet. He could hear the quiet background noise of crickets and a few houses across the expanse of grass which still had their lights on. Beside him, Wilbur picked at the grass, rolling it between his fingers.

“Why were you so nice to me?”

Both of them knew what he was talking about. Wilbur shrugged. “Techno didn’t trust Phil in the beginning, so I was always the one to help him whenever he got panic attacks.”

“That literally didn’t answer shit.”

Wilbur huffed. “You had a panic attack. I wasn’t just gonna ignore you. I’m not that much of an asshole.”

Decent answer. It made sense, sort of. Wilbur never really seemed like the malicious type, and Tommy knew that if another foster kid was in his place, he would have gotten the same treatment. “You’re kind of an asshole,” he said anyway.

“Yeah,” Wilbur laughed, a cynical note to it. “Sorry about that, I guess.”

“Sure.”

“And sorry about the cigarette thing. I don’t normally smoke, so I doubt it’ll happen again. It’s just one of those days.”

Tommy glanced at Wilbur’s shoe. “Yeah, no problem. I’m over it.” He could still hear the sound the keys made when they hit the hardwood floor. What the fuck do you think you’re doing, Tommy? He could hear his own voice, fumbling for an excuse. He was just cleaning, he just picked it up, he didn’t mean to. I don’t want to hear your excuses. Get over here. He remembered trying to make a split second decision. Follow orders or fucking run. 

He made the wrong decision.

“So what are you doing out here?” The sentence was blurted out from Tommy’s mouth, words tumbling after the other in an attempt to just say something.

Wilbur didn’t mention it. “Uh, fresh air, I guess. You?”

“Same.”

It was at least a few more minutes before Wilbur spoke again. “Tommy?”

“Mhm?”

“You know when you said that thing, on the way back from the party? Something about how I was Phil’s second favorite or something?”

You’re just pissed that I’m replacing you as Phil’s second favorite son.

Tommy definitely remembered.

Wilbur continued, “Did-- I mean, like, were you just saying something to piss me off? Or...” Was it true , went the unasked question.

Honestly, Tommy knew what he was saying. Reading dynamics and situations kept him alive, and he had learned how to do it pretty well. Phil favored Techno over Wilbur. It was just a fact.

It tended to be the small things that let Tommy figure it out. The way that, in Tommy’s two weeks or so of being there, Phil had told Techno he was proud of him exactly 4 times, after academic achievements (Unit four history test, AP Calc quiz, AP Calc test, 98 on English essay), and told Wilbur the same exactly 0 times, despite Wilbur telling him that he had completed a song and won second in some Music Theory quiz game.

Tommy noticed things.

Along with the fact that the two of them were just so inherently different. Techno and Phil were analytical, more on the anti-social side while Wilbur was just the complete opposite.

So yes. It was true. Wilbur was the second favorite, and it was painfully obvious.

Still. “No, I think I was just saying something. Like to make you mad.”

Wilbur nodded thoughtfully, giving him an apprehensive look. “It’s fine, if you meant it. I already know it’s true.”

Oh.

Wilbur returned to glaring at the ground, before pausing. “I mean, Phil’s great. It’s not like he means to, and he still treats me amazingly, and everything.” He blinked, clearing his throat. “He’s been great, and--”

“Wilbur,” Tommy interrupted. “I know.”

“I just don’t want you to think he’s a bad dad, or anything.”

“I know.”

Wilbur once again looked at the ground.

“Sorry.” Tommy didn’t really know what he was saying. “I know you didn’t really expect a new foster coming in.”

Wilbur shook his head. “You’re good. It wasn’t really your fault. At all. Sorry for being a dick,” he repeated. “You’re not that bad.”

Tommy snorted. “Thanks.”

“So you’re racing this Friday?”

Tommy didn't question how he knew. “I guess so.”

Wilbur thought for a moment. “Techno and I can watch,” he said, phrasing it like a question. 

“…Alright.”

 --- 

Things were weird with Wilbur. Whatever grudge the senior held against him had melted away after their conversation a few days ago, and Tommy was left figuring out where to recategorize him. 

6A, maybe? Wilbur seemed to be ignoring him now, not paying much attention. But if he was a 6A, then Techno would have to be switched. Techno didn’t seem close enough to a 1A, though. Yeah, they talked more than Wilbur, but 1A was still far off, but so was 6A. 1.5, possibly? He had never had anyone between a category before. 

Tommy wasn’t used to the categorizations being so hard. 

“What are you doing, Tommy?” Techno’s monotone voice asked. 

Tommy glanced away as brown eyes were suddenly staring into him before looking back at Techno. “What? Nothing?”

Techno wrinkled his nose. “Stop staring at me, it’s stressing me out.”

Tommy huffed. “I’m not staring .” He was staring. Oh god he hadn’t created a category in years.

“Well go not-stare somewhere else.”

Seven categories seemed excessive. Tommy got up, rolling his eyes. “Yeah, yeah.”

Techno looked up again when he was at the door. “Are you doing anything tomorrow?”

“After school?”

“Yes, after school. I doubt Phil’s letting you do much after what you pulled last Friday,” Techno said sarcastically.

“Last-last Friday,” Tommy corrected. “And no, I don’t think so. Why?”

Techno huffed. “Just don’t make plans after 6.”

Tommy blinked. That was ominous.

Chapter Text

Tommy trudged up the slope to the garage, leaning forwards to alleviate the stress off his back, although he supposed it was probably making it worse. His teachers had decided on giving him two textbooks to take home, and he regretted everything.

He had decided against entering through the front of the shop, considering he had seen Sam’s car out front and didn’t really know the man well enough to walk past him into his garage. He punched in the number code, stepping back as the garage door opened, creaking all the while.

The scene inside was...interesting, to say the least. Right in the middle of the room lay Tubbo, face down on a creeper seat, clutching onto the edge while his feet were being hoisted up by Purpled, who stood behind the seat, poised to run. Although both of them were currently paused in their actions, staring straight at Tommy. Ranboo, on the other hand, looked as exasperated as always, munching on a bag of chips.

“Hey Tommy,” he chirped. “Fancy seeing you here.”

Tubbo’s shocked expression morphed into a grin. “Holy shit, if Ranboo drags you on a seat we can race down the hill.”

If Tommy was being real, that sounded dangerous. One of them would definitely break something. But also weirdly interesting. He dropped his bag, hopefully looking at Ranboo who looked less amused and more disappointed. 

“No,” the taller boy said before anyone else could speak.

Tubbo groaned, and Purpled dropped his legs. “Of course Ranboo doesn’t wanna do it. He’s boring. ”

The three of them looked at him expectantly, just for him to roll his eyes. “That won’t work on me. I’m not that dumb.”

A shame. Tommy was looking forward to hurtling down the slope at breakneck speeds. It seemed like fun. 

Tubbo rolls off the chair, wheeling it over to its usual position, which Tommy just realizes has a new car next to it. “Alright, well I actually have work to do,” he said, nodding to the Nissan with the hood propped up. Tommy followed him in interest before getting pushed back towards Ranboo. “Nope nope nope, not today. Ranboo’s getting you situated. ”

“Situated,” He repeated. “Why am I getting situated?” 

Purpled, still looking miffed about not being allowed to push Tubbo down a hill, huffed. “You have a race on Friday, remember? It’s literally tomorrow.”

Tommy didn’t think he could forget about it if he tried. He had been out driving more than a few times since the first, most with Tubbo, Purpled, and Ranboo, and a few on his own. Despite his practice and already seeing a few races, he felt like he was going in blind.

Ranboo nodded to the empty space on the couch, forcing Purpled onto the armrest. “Alright, I don’t know if you’ve heard, but you’ve got a lot of hype surrounding you right now.”

“Really?” Tommy leaned forwards with interest.

Purpled snorted. “The racing scene’s big here, if you haven’t noticed. But yeah. Everyone sort of knows that you and Techno are basically family and you and Dream are like, besties.”

Tommy wrinkled his nose. “I don’t really just wanna be an extension of those two.”

“Which is why we’re doing this,” Ranboo nodded. “The current line up for tomorrow is Ant, Fundy, Connor, Jack Manifold, and Sapnap. We’ll probably just have you do one race, towards the end. The turn out is gonna be more than usual.”

Once again, Tommy was hit with the differences between this town and his last. 

Ranboo quickly ran through each of their basic stats, Purpled chiming in when necessary. “--And Connor’s lost his last two, but he’s generally been a pretty good opponent.”

Tommy nodded slowly.

“So which one do you want? I’m leaning towards Connor, actually--”

“Sapnap.”

Purpled winced. “For your first one? I dunno...”

“Yeah, I’m not sure about that one,” Ranboo agreed. “Sapnap’s really good. He practices all the time and, like, Dream basically trained him.”

Tommy shrugged. “We saw him race the other day, right? I reckon I could beat him. Start some commotion. Make a name for myself.” He honestly thought he had a pretty good chance against Sapnap. The senior raced with a focus on power over agility, which happened to be Tommy’s favorite. As long as he played his cards right, Sapnap would be in the dust, and Tommy would be a bit richer.

Both Purpled and Ranboo exchanged a look.

“What, you guys don’t believe in me?” Tommy asked with a grin. “What happened to the power of friendship?”

Purpled flicked his forehead as Ranboo shrugged. “Your funeral,” he muttered, typing into his phone. Just a few seconds later, he turned the screen to Tommy’s face. “Q says yes.”

Quackity : Sap? a bold choice, but he’s down.

Tommy nodded, letting out a breath.

“If you lose, it’s gonna be embarrassing.”

“Who says I’m gonna lose?”

 --- 

“ Tommy!” A voice called from upstairs. Tommy’s heart dropped, setting his backpack down slowly. It seemed to be Wilbur’s voice, coming from the left side. 

He swallowed thickly. “Yeah?”

“ Come upstairs.”

Fuck. Tommy glanced around, thinking for a second. Phil had already talked to him about the money, and he couldn’t really think of anything else he had done wrong. Both Techno and Wilbur now knew about how he raced, but both of them didn’t seem like they were going to tell Phil. 

Oh god, what if they told Phil? 

Tommy stepped up the stairs slowly, sliding his hand up the banister. 

“In here,” Wilbur's voice said from the bathroom. 

The door swung open, revealing Techno sitting on Wilbur’s desk chair, and Wilbur standing behind him. 

Techno cracked a smile. “We’re dyeing my hair.”

They were dyeing Techno’s hair. Oh. 

Wilbur huffed, waving him over. “Techno wanted you to be here.”

“I didn’t want him to be here, I just offered ,” Techno defended. “It’s not like you have anything to do, anyways.”

Tommy shrugged, ignoring the slight reddening of Techno’s face for both of their sakes. Wilbur tossed him a couple rubber bands, beginning to separate Techno’s hair into sections. Hesitantly, Tommy followed his instruction on the other side. 

“I don’t know what I’m doing.”

Wilbur shrugged. “Eh. Doesn’t matter. If you fuck up Techno’s hair it’s on him for asking you.”

Techno rolled his eyes in the mirror. “You’ll be fine.”

Wilbur finished his section and began mixing something in a little plastic thing with another plastic brush thing. 

Yeah, it was a little obvious that Tommy had never dyed someone's hair before. Just a little. 

Wilbur mixed the dye easily as Techno wrapped a pink towel over his old t-shirt, the entire ordeal seeming practiced. “How often do you do this?” Tommy asked. 

Techno paused, thinking aloud. “Well, I started dyeing my hair when I was 14, maybe? Right at the beginning of high school.”

Wilbur whistled. “So once a month since then. Damn. Four years.”

Tommy made a noise of agreement. “So just a year after you came here?” 

“Yup. Wilbur did it for me back then, too. I’ve never had it done professionally.” Wilbur began using the applicator to apply the dye to sections of Techno’s hair, and Techno smirked amusedly. “You know the little plastic hair chalk sets? I used to use those as a kid. I always liked pink.”

Tommy hummed. “That’s cool.” Wilbur passed him an identical plastic bowl with dye in it, along with an applicator. 

Wilbur muttered instructions under his breath. “Okay, so you just wanna get the parts that grew out a bit, yeah just like that.” Tommy continued the motions. “Mhm, mhm, now you can just drop that strand and get a new one...Yeah maybe a little smaller. That’s good. Did you get a chance to listen to the record?”

Tommy nodded, breaking his focus for a second. Just a few days ago, he had gotten a hold of Techno’s record player and listened to the entire album. The songs were good, albeit a little sadder than he was used to, but he ended up adding most of them to one of his playlists. “Yeah, I did, actually. It was pretty good.”

Wilbur looked smug, smirking at him in the mirror. “Yeah, I know. Favorite song?”

Tommy thought for a moment. “No Halo, maybe. That was a good one. The, uh, screamy bit in the chorus was good. And the drums were cool, also how the lyrics--” he cut himself off. He should probably let someone else speak.

“Mhm?” Wilbur prodded anyway. “Tell me more.”

Tommy blinked. “What?”

“Keep going. You were saying something about the lyrics?”

“Oh, uh, I was just-” Tommy took a breath, forcing the stutter out of his voice. “I was just saying that I liked how the lyrics were sort of off-beat. It was cool,” he muttered.

Wilbur nodded thoughtfully. “Yeah, most of their songs are like that. You should check out their other albums.”

“I did, actually--”

“You did?” Wilbur was looking smug again, and Tommy rolled his eyes. “You hear that, Tech? I’m better at song recommendations.”

“ Actually, ” Tommy interrupted, “I was gonna say that their other albums aren’t as good as this one.”

Wilbur wasn’t deterred. “Still means I picked out a good album. You liked it, then?”

“Yeah, I liked it. Asshole,” Tommy tacked on. 

Wilbur smirked. “Right.” He moved onto the next section of hair, and Tommy reminded himself to keep working. Techno’s hair was soft, despite apparently not having been washed for a few days, and the dull pink hair still looked cool.

“Are you sure this is the right color? It’s like, fuckin’ magenta .”

“Ooh, big word,” Wilbur taunted.

“It’s a color .”

Techno interrupted Wilbur’s reply. “Has Quackity told you who you’re racing yet?”

Tommy nodded, finishing the first section and setting the dye down as Wilbur moved over to work on the final fourth. “Yeah, I’m going against Sapnap tomorrow.”

Both seniors looked up at him. “Sapnap?” Wilbur questioned. “He’s, like, good. ”

“So am I, dickhead.”

“Tommy, have you even seen him race?”

Tommy huffed at Techno. “Of course I’ve seen him. He went against Niki two weeks ago. You don’t think I can do it.” It was a statement, not a question. It didn’t really bother him, considering they hadn’t seen him race either. All it would do was make the impending win that much sweeter.

“Well,” Techno winced as Wilbur nodded vigorously. Tommy flipped him off. “Sapnap is pretty good...”

Tommy shrugged. “So am I,” he repeated.

Wilbur set a timer on his phone, setting it down. “Is your wrist even gonna be okay before then? And your ribs?”

“My wrist has been fine for days , Wilbur.”

Techno nodded to his left wrist. “You never, uh, mentioned what happened.”

Oh. So they were doing this now?

Tommy glanced at it too. It looked completely normal, the wrapping having been taken off weeks ago, and although it clicked awkwardly when he twisted it a certain way, the pain was completely gone. “Foster dad and shit,” he said bluntly. “He stepped on it.”

“Purposefully?”

Wilbur looked like he already knew the answer, so Tommy huffed, “What do you think?” Both of them looked at him pitifully, and Tommy pushed himself off the counter. “I think I’ll go now.”

Techno rolled his eyes, speaking before he could get to the door. “Are you really doing the thing?”

“What thing?” He glared.

“You know,” Techno waved his hand around. “The dumb foster kid thing. Being closed off. Shutting everyone out.”

Tommy scowled. “Like you kno--”

“I do know,” Techno interrupted. He had an odd way of speaking eloquently even while struggling to figure his words out. “I know I haven’t gone through exactly what you have, but I do know.” Techno looked a little ridiculous with magenta and tinfoil on his head, but he spoke clearly. “I’m just saying, Tommy. You have people in your corner. People you can rely on.”

Well, Techno was right, wasn’t he? He did have people in his corner. Yes, he has no idea when they’ll leave him, but they’re in his corner now, and that’s all that matters, isn’t it? He’s basically given up on trying to stay away, anyway.

But he can’t . It’s too early, and everything still hurts, and Tommy didn’t want to.

He didn’t want to talk about Clara, or the only parents he ever had, or the cigarette burns, or the broken ribs, or the beer bottles, he just didn’t want to.

The phone rang, and it took him an extra second to realize that it was his phone. He fished it out of his pocket, looking at the contact name flashing on his screen. Dream. “I have to take this.”

Techno sighed, glancing at the screen. “Of course you do,” he said, although it wasn’t with malice.

“We’ll see you tomorrow, Tommy,” Wilbur said.

“Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

Chapter Text

“Tell Dream we’re taking you,” Techno said, strangely upbeat for so early in the morning.

Tommy almost choked on his cereal. “To school? You’re taking me to school?”

Techno nodded, shoving things into his backpack, “Bring a jacket. It’s cold outside.” 

It honestly wasn’t cold, but Tommy agreed and pulled out his phone, opening Dream’s chat.

Tommy: i think techno’s taking me today

Dream’s reply was almost instant, clearly from George.

Dream: dream’s driving rn but he says ok

Dream: lmao he doesn’t like techno

Tommy snorted at the message, sliding his phone back into his pocket and waiting for Techno and probably Wilbur to get ready. Although he never liked mornings, he was used to being forced awake before the sun even rose, under the guise of making breakfast or getting things ready. And sometimes waking up and getting out of the house was easier than staying inside.

Techno finally finished up, dragging a half asleep Wilbur into the car and closing the door, adjusting the mirror so he could see Tommy in the back seat.

“So, it’s your debut.”

Tommy nodded in affirmation. “It is.”

“You get nervous?”

He wasn’t the type to get testing anxiety, or even anxiety about speaking in front of the class, but races were a completely different story. He remembered Clara having to talk him down in the parking lot before his first race, just less than a year ago. “Sometimes,” he admitted.

“Well, this probably isn’t helping, but there are gonna be a lot of people out there tonight. I haven’t seen you race, so I can’t tell if it’s dumb or smart of you to pick Sapnap--”

“It was dumb,” Wilbur added, tugging on his hoodie strings.

“But I’m sure you’ll do fine. I have a feeling you know what you’re doing. You said you saw him race two weeks ago?” Techno took a sharp turn, making Tommy’s bag tip over.

“Yeah, I saw him race Niki,” Tommy said. “He favors power over--”

“Agility,” Techno finished. “You any good at agility? Quick turns? Drifting?”

Yes, yes, and no. “Agility is my strong suit, to be honest. Except for drifting, never quite got the hang of that one.”

Techno nodded thoughtfully. “Alright. As long as you play to your strengths, you should be fine. What car are you using? And what have you done to the engine so far?”

Tommy rattled off the name and the tune ups he and Tubbo spent most of the past two weeks doing, trying and failing to hide his prideful beam that painted his face whenever Techno complimented him. 

“Honestly, most of it was Tubbo, I just helped out a bit.”

“Still, you did good. I’ll check it out in person at the race, but she sounds beautiful. What’s her name?”

“ Clementine, ” Tommy stated proudly.

“Heh?”

“What?” Wilbur asked. “Didn’t you say it was red?”

“And? I think Clementine fits perfectly.” He raised an eyebrow, almost daring any one of them to say something.

Techno shrugged, pulling into a parking spot as Wilbur muttered a ‘ dumb name ’ before turning back around.

“Did you bring a jacket?”

Tommy huffed. “It’s 42 degrees out.” He opened the door to prove his point, realizing with a blink that no, it wasn’t 42 degrees out . He closed it immediately.

“Try 24,” Techno snorted. “I told you.”

Still, he was too far in to go back, so he stuck to his point. “The weather’s fine. I’m fully covered anyway.” He was, considering he was wearing jeans and a long sleeve green shirt. He had exclusively been wearing long sleeved shirts since he got here, under the excuse of it’s winter, and figured he’d be gone before that excuse timed out. He wasn’t so sure anymore.

“Really?” Wilbur asked. “You’re gonna freeze. Whatever, I’m out. See you.” He opened the car door and left, immediately getting approached by a few people.

Tommy undid his seatbelt, leaning forwards and glancing out the front window, where sure enough, most of the students wore coats. He might have misread the weather that morning. “So I wasn’t really paying attention, but I thought Sapnap released his NOS too early. He won anyway, but...”

Techno pulled out a thermos from god knows where and began sipping on it. “Yeah, he used to do that when I raced him. Assuming it’s that close of a race by the end, wait for him to go before you do.”

“Mhm, mhm.” He glanced around for a second, eyes settling on the lump of maroon in the passenger seat. “Is that Wilbur’s hoodie?” He must have taken it off at some point, Tommy barely noticed.

Techno, suddenly sounding far more amused, nodded. “Looks like it.”

It looked really cold outside.

“You should just take it. It’s too late for him to turn back, if he even notices,” Techno said, reaching for the hoodie and tossing it back at Tommy.

Tommy caught it before he had a mouthful of fabric, holding it out in front of him. “You don’t think he’ll mind?”

“No, no, he won’t mind.”

Tommy shrugged, yanking the soft material over his head and fixing his hair once it was on. It was a little oversized on him, but it would do. “Alright, bye Techno!”

Techno pulled out his phone, still looking amused. “Bye.”

Tommy stepped out of the car, glancing around for a moment before heading towards the doors. Students bustled around him, buzzing, everyone excited for the weekend or the upcoming race. He caught sight of Purpled at his locker, and jogged the past few steps to catch up.

“Purpled!”

“Hey Tommy,” the teenager grinned. “Can you hold this for a second?”

Tommy reached out to hold the offered backpack, his arm almost dropping with the weight. “Holy shit, what’s in this?”

“An AP stat textbook and an AP calc textbook,” he answered, opening the bag to shove the rest of his things into his locker.

“Nerd.”

“My other classes are easy,” Purpled defended, scowling. “It’s just math.”

Tommy shrugged. “My point still stands.”

“Whatever. You excited for the race today?”

“Yeah,” Tommy answered honestly. “So excited. The whole school feels like it's...buzzing.”

Purpled nodded. “Yeah, our school goes kind of crazy for them. Even the people that don’t even go get excited. It’s like a morale thing.” 

Someone smacked Tommy’s backpack loudly, cheering a good luck bro before darting off. He would be lying if he said the action didn’t make him flinch, but after the shock quickly disappeared, he was left with a surprised grin on his face. “Holy shit.”

“You should be expecting a lot of that soon,” Dream’s voice said from behind him.

“Hey Dream,” he replied, turning around. The senior was beaming, leaning back. 

“Good luck with the race. I’ll be rooting for you.”

“You’re not rooting for Sapnap?” The added pressure of Dream being there should have made him nervous, but he instead felt lighter.

Dream waved him off. “It’s your first race, of course not. I’m betting on you too, so you better pull through.”

He grinned, “Of course.”

 --- 

Ranboo was a lot less richer than Phil and Tubbo, which sounded mean, but was true. Honestly, Tommy liked it better, mostly in the familiarity of it all, being much more used to cramped apartments over houses with four floors. 

He led them through a hallway and into his bedroom, flopping onto the bed. Purpled, who apparently had a test the next day, occupied Ranboo’s desk, while Tommy and Tubbo took to the floor.

“What color, big man?”

He had somehow let Tubbo convince him to let him paint Tommy’s nails, which led to that exact moment, sitting criss-cross and trying to decide what color seemed the coolest. “Black.”

Tubbo wrinkled his nose. “...Alright.”

“What’s wrong with black?” Tommy immediately defended, despite the older not having said a single word.

“It's so... basic .”

“Whatever Bee Boy,” Tommy huffed, setting his right hand on the textbook for Tubbo to begin with.

Ranboo, who’s fingernails were currently Christmas themes for whatever reason, piped up from the bed. “I think black is cool.”

“Of course you think it’s cool.”

“Hey!”

“Fuckin’ Mary Sue,” Tubbo muttered under his breath.

Tommy blinked. “Who’s Mary Sue?”

“Ranboo. Ranboo is Mary Sue.”

Ranboo rolled his eyes. “Ranboo is not Mary Sue.”

“You’re speaking in the third person,” Tubbo pointed out. “You’re totally Mary Sue.”

“ Who’s Mary Sue? ”

Tubbo picked his head up from where he was leaning over Tommy’s hand. “I just said, Ranboo’s--”

“I’m not Mary Sue!” Ranboo groaned, flipping over on his bed to stare at the ceiling. “Shut up.”

Tubbo sent him a grin, whispering, “Whatever you say, Mary.”

“ Can you guys shut up? ”

The three of them exchanged a look, holding back laughs at the sight of Purpled’s very pissed off face. 

“We’re quiet!” Ranboo defended. “Why are you studying anyway? It’s Friday.”

“No one asked , Mary.”

Despite being slightly confused, Tommy laughed amidst Ranboo’s groans.

 --- 

Ranboo lived even closer to the racetrack than he did, which meant the ride there took less than two minutes. They had moved the car into Ranboo’s apartment parking lot days ago, and now they were on their way to Tommy’s first race. 

First race in this town, at least. He had won his fair share back in Kinoko, but a new town meant new racers he was up against, and he wouldn’t admit it but he was nervous.  

“Come on , Tommy,” Tubbo pleaded, leaning dramatically against the armrest of the passenger seat,  almost dangerously close to the NOS tanks. “I just wanna co-pilot with you, it’ll be fun!”

Tommy rolled his eyes, reaching with his right hand to force Tubbo back in his seat before returning to tugging at his hoodie strings. He had switched Wilbur’s out for one of his own, a simple white one with some logo in red on it. “I’m gonna be real, man, I don’t trust you. At all. Knowing you, you’d turn up some dial and explode the car for fun.” Honestly, Tommy never liked having anyone as a co-pilot. It wasn’t needed anyways, and the feeling of having someone's life in his hands while doing a pretty dangerous activity never sat well with him.

Tubbo continued lamenting, being ignored by everyone in the car as they pulled up to the race. Tommy turned down the music, trying to make his heart stop beating out of his chest. Sure enough, it was crowded , far more than last time with at least an extra hundred people.

The hoards of people shifted as he got close, moving to make space for him and his car as he drove across the track, parking where the other cars were lined up. He noticed Jack Manifold and Connor’s cars already lined up, along with Fundy leaning against a GTR. 

Tubbo glanced at him, looking vaguely serious for the first time that day. “You ready?”

Tommy flicked the car off, sending him a smirk, tugging the simple black face mask he got on his second day in Esempi over his face and stepping out of the car. The clamor of voices got louder, all whispering something along the lines of ‘is that him?’ as he shut the door, glancing around. 

Jack Manifold clapped him on the back, grinning up at him. “Tommy! The man of the hour. You should probably get checked in with Quackity.” He pointed up at the makeshift hut Quackity and what looked to be Karl were conversing in. 

“We have to get checked in?” he glanced back at Tubbo, Ranboo, and Purpled, all of which were just getting out of the car.

Jack shrugged. “Not really, but just let them know you’re here. They’ll wanna sign you off.”

Tommy nodded, mentioning a thanks and moving towards Quackity.

It was really just a plastic platform with a roof, and couldn't have been more than 200 dollars. He stepped over the wires criss crossing over the stairs, smiling politely at Karl.

“Tommy Innit!” He said, grinning. Quackity turned around with a similar smile, reaching out for a half-handshake while clapping him on the back. Tommy returned the gesture.

“Tommay!”

“Hi.” Their enthusiasm was contagious. “Quackity, right? And Karl?”

They both nodded in turn, and Karl took a seat on the lawn chair behind him and Quackity stepped closer. “Alright, just some quick stuff to go over. There’s a lot of people here, and although busts are rare, in the case of one happening, you’re gonna head that way in your car,” he pointed behind the track. “There’s a city line, and getting the permission to chase after you might take them a few seconds. Second, we don’t tolerate foul play. So if we get wind of you tampering with another person’s car, you’re banned.”

Tommy nodded.

“We’re just here to have fun, man, so make sure not to take things too personally. That’s, uh, happened before, and trust me, it kind of ruins it for everyone.” Quackity glanced into the crowd, scanning for someone before turning back to Tommy.

“Sounds good.”

Quackity chuckled awkwardly, continuing. “Okay, this isn’t really a part of the usual spiel I give, but this place can get kind of sketchy. We try to keep things moderated, but it’s hard with, like, 300 highschoolers here. So, uh, don’t buy any drugs. I wouldn't put it past someone to tamper it. And Techno would probably just kill me on the spot if he knew I let you buy drugs at my race.”

Tommy snorted, nodding anyway. “Yeah, sounds good man. No drugs for me.”

Quackity cracked a smile. “That’s the spirit. Good luck out there.”

He didn’t need luck.

Chapter Text

Tommy gave Quackity a quick salute, stepping out of the booth and heading back to his car, where both Techno and Dream were standing. Together. They were standing together, and neither of them were arguing.

As he got closer, he noted that although they weren’t arguing, the two of them were speaking, both with dry, unamused looks on their faces. It changed completely once he was spotted, however, and he grinned in turn.

“Nice mask,” they both said in unison, turning and glaring at one another once they noticed.

“Uh, thanks,” Tommy accepted, his smile turning a bit more strained. 

Thankfully, neither of them tried starting anything. Techno turned towards the car, motioning at the hood. “Nice car, too. I saw her a while back, but she looks pretty fucking amazing now.”

Tommy grinned in pride, moving to pop the hood open. Both of them made various noises of ‘wow’ as he did, Dream’s hand ghosting over the engine. “Holy shit, Toms. You did well.”

“Tubbo did most of it,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. “Thanks, though.”

Techno nodded thoughtfully. “This looks great. You’re gonna kick Sapnap’s ass.”

“Definitely,” Dream agreed.

“Have you seen Tommy race yet?” Techno asked innocently.

Dream scowled. “Have you?” He countered.

Wilbur crossed over the road easily, something Tommy was pretty sure that most people weren’t allowed to do considering the number of people on the other side of the tracks. He tossed a Fanta to Techno before returning to his usual pissed off face. “Where’s my sweatshirt, gremlin?”

Tommy ignored the question and whirled on Techno. “You said he wouldn't mind!”

Techno huffed, opening the soda can. “He doesn’t.”

“I don’t care, just don’t lose it,” Wilbur said, rolling his eyes. Tommy took it as a win though, ignoring the smile creeping on his face.

Techno took it as a personal win, too. “Tommy stole one of Wilbur’s hoodies today,” he told Dream, smirking.

Dream sent him a far too bright smile back. “Cute. Tommy steals my hoodies all the time too, actually. Isn’t that right?”

“Guys,” he began, frowning. Both of them shut up, finally.

“Sorry,” Techno muttered. The mic screeched, making him wince. “It’s gonna start soon. Good luck, kid. See you when you win.” 

Tommy didn’t explode at the kid remark, letting it slide. “Bye Techno, Wilbur.”

Dream smiled at him, ruffling his hair. “See you soon, Tommy,” he said before he was off too, heading back over the track to take a seat on his obnoxiously green Dodge. 

He wrangled himself onto the hood of the car, Purpled seamlessly following him, a lot more gracefully. He passed Tommy something, grinning, “Try it.”

It...honestly just looked like green jello on a stick, chunky, and like it was about to fall off. Tommy held a hand underneath it, not wanting anything to get on his car. “What the fuck is this?”

“Slime on a stick,” Purpled answered. “Charlie sells them sometimes.”

Now, Tommy has no idea who Charlie is, but he hesitantly takes a bite, tilting his head to keep it from falling. Yeah, it was literally just green jello on a popsicle stick.

“What do you think?”

“I mean...it’s just jello.”

Purpled laughed, taking it back and taking a bite of his own. Tubbo and Ranboo returned seconds later, the former bouncing excitedly. “Tommy! Purpled! They have Slime on a stick!” His excitement deflated quickly after seeing the empty popsicle stick on Purpled’s hand. “Oh. You already showed it to him.”

“It’s literally jello, man. I could make some for you if you gave me five bucks,” Tommy repeated.

Tubbo pouted. “It’s not the same.”

“The first race is starting now, so if you’re on the tracks, get off!” Quackity’s voice boomed through the speaker system. “On one hand, we’ve got Fundy, you all know him! Fox boy, our resident furry!”

There was a noise of complaint as Fundy maneuvered into his spot on the track, rolling his window down. “Get on with it, Quackity!”

Karl took over, “And on the other, we have Antfrost!” Ant rolled beside Fundy, hollering a hey through his open window. “If you can spot him, his boyfriend’s somewhere in the audience.”

A few feet away from Dream’s car, someone with red hair waved his hand wildly while jumping, holding up a tacky sign that said ‘I fucking love you ant ’. He held a megaphone in his other hand, and didn’t seem afraid to use it despite the death glare he was already receiving from Quackity.

“Yeah, I can’t see him either. Maybe he’ll turn up later,” Karl continued.

“I love you baby!”

“Love you too!”

“Nimrods,” Karl giggled. “Alright. Racers? You guys ready?”

Both of them nodded an affirmative, and some girl with purple hair strutted between them, saying something in a thick Scottish accent that Tommy couldn’t really make out. She raised her flags, shouting one last thing before the cars were off, already heading right towards the first turn.

The races passed by in a blur. Antfrost won the first one, which was apparently considered surprising and had Fundy groaning about how he was having a bad day, and Jack Manifold one the next. After them, were two other races Tommy didn’t really pay attention to, mostly due to not knowing any of the racers and Tubbo shouting random inapplicable advice to him. And then, it was his turn.

“Alright, I think you’re next,” Ranboo said, sliding off the car. “We should get off.” He offered a hand to Tubbo, who grabbed it and slid off clumsily, almost making Ranboo topple over.

Purpled clapped him on the back with a grin. “You got this. I’m betting on you,” he said, before stepping away. The three of them moved back, giving him space to drive onto the track.

Tubbo passed him a set of airpods that he stuck into his ear, hearing his voice through the airpods. “Good luck.”

Past Connor’s car, Sapnap waved to him, cupping a hand over his mouth to let his voice carry over. “It’ll be fun to watch you lose your first race, Innit.”

“You won’t see anything but my tail lights, Nichols,” he countered easily, slamming the car door closed and putting Clementine into gear, easily reversing her into his allocated spot.

“We’ve already got some banter, huh?” Quackity said, easily switching from commentary on the music back onto the impending race. “It’s the last race of the night, losers, and we already know it’s gonna be a good one.”

The whole spiel was overly dramatized, with Quackity lowering his voice and leaning closer to the mic, but Tommy grinned anyways, his heart thumping under the pressure. Outside his window, he could see the crowd cheering loudly, and he forced himself to keep his eyes forwards, letting out a deep breath.

“We’ve got Sapnap Nichols, on the left, with the Nissan GTR, our two-time winner of third-place at the tournament.” Tournament? Sapnap rolled down his window, yelling a shut up that made Quackity laugh before continuing. “And he’s a bit of a veteran here, as you know. He won’t take a loss easily, his last one being over a year ago.”

Quackity handed the mic to Karl. “And on our right, we have Tommy Innit,” His voice boomed over the crowd. “New to the tracks, but going against Sapnap for his first time. Stupid, or smart? Take your pick.” The crowd chorused out both options.

“Racers, are we ready?”

“Ready!” 

“Always am,” Tommy grinned, rolling his window up. 

The girl with the purple hair, apparently nicknamed Minx, strutted to the middle of the road, raising her flags. 

“Three!”

Tommy adjusted the NOS dials, the familiar hissing of gas filling the car. 

“Two!”

He tilted his mirror, taking a breath. In the mirrors reflection, he could see some of the crowd, along with a bright green bumper. 

“One!”

Tommy wrapped his hand around the gear stick . The car was vibrating beneath him, ready to go at a moments notice. 

“Go!”

He slammed on the gas, pulling away from the music, the crowds, and his friends. Beside him, Sapnap kept his pace, a blur of black in his left window. 

They reached the first turn, the sharpest one on the course. He skidded to the right, shifting gear and cursing as he slammed the gas, pressing forwards. 

He fucked up the turn, and now he was seeing Sapnap’s stupid taillights. 

Thorough his airpods, he could vaguely hear Quackity’s voice on the loudspeaker, followed by Tubbo’s voice, much louder. “You’re behind Sapnap? What happened?”

Tommy gritted his teeth. “What do you think? I’m working on it.”

The track was too fucking narrow for him to try and pass, and unfortunately, Sapnap was maneuvering to the left and right randomly, stopping any attempts. 

He was getting sick of seeing his taillights. 

The next turn, he shifted the gas, swerving and cutting off Sapnap, forcing him to slow down as Tommy switched from his right to his left, narrowing missing the lamppost. In the mirror, Sapnap didn’t look happy, and Tommy grinned, pulling forward to keep his lead. 

Tubbo cheered in his ear once he heard Quackity’s announcement. “You’re ahead again! Just keep the lead and you’ll be good.”

Tommy didn’t bother with a response, shifting gear to make the third turn, only one more until the final stretch. 

Behind him, Sapnap shifted to the right, trying to find a way around Tommy, but Tommy used his own trick against him, not letting him pass. 

The final turn came and went without a hitch, and Tommy was on the home stretch. He could see Dream and his obnoxious car cheering on the sidelines, along with Tubbo and the rest of them on the other side. He knew Techno and Wilbur would be there somewhere, and he grinned. 

The track widened out, and in the mirror, Sapnap’s car moved to the right, and Tommy let it happen.

The senior released his NOS, and Tommy waited until Sapnap passed him before reaching back and releasing his own, grinning maniacally as he passed Sapnap again, hurtling over the white spray painted line easily, at least a second before Sapnap did. 

Not his best work, but he smiled anyway as he coasted past the line, letting out a deep breath. Tubbo was screeching in his ear, and he took out the airpod, leaning his head against the seat, relaxing. 

He won. He won. 

Tommy let out a surprised sort of laugh. He always knew he was going to win, but goddamn, winning felt good. 

He reversed the gear and put the car in reverse, making a U-turn and returning to his original spot. Tubbo was jumping crazily outside his window, and both Purpled and Ranboo have matching, ear-to-ear grins. But by the time Clementine was in park, he couldn't see much else other than the sudden swarm of high school students.

He opened the door, stepping out and grinning among the cheers, now much louder that he wasn’t behind a closed door. Hands he didn’t recognize clapped his back, people suddenly talking to him like they were best friends. It would have been overwhelming if it wasn’t for the adrenaline still rushing through him.

“You did fucking great man. The way you pulled past Sapnap right at the last second? Fucking amazing.”

Tommy grinned, barely being able to shoot the speaker a smile before getting tugged in someone else's direction.

“Back up!” A voice yelled, a touch louder than the rest. “Dream’s here.”

And sure enough, most of the crown dispersed, Dream grinning down at him, Sapnap on his right. “You did it. You fucking did it,” he cheered, pulling Tommy in for a half-hug.

Tommy smiled back. “Hell yeah I did. Can’t even believe you doubted me.”

Sapnap snorted. “I’ll be honest, I didn’t expect it. You’re good, Tommy. Seriously good. But I’ll get you next time!” The senior sent him a fist bump before waving and heading to where George was standing, a few meters back.

Dream wandered back to Clementine, speaking just loud enough so that he could be heard. Most of the crowd was hanging around Eret, waiting for their bets to be cashed in, leaving their side of the track semi-empty. “God, after that first turn, I was so scared that was it.”

Tommy nodded. “Yeah, I totally fucked that one up. Pulled it together in the end though, yeah?”

Dream let out a laugh. “Yeah you did. That trick with where you cut Sapnap off was crazy. And dammit, I keep telling that dumbass to stop releasing his NOS that early but...” He glanced back, and Tommy followed his gaze to where Wilbur and Techno were standing, speaking lightly. “I should let you get back to them.” Tommy opened his mouth in protest, getting cut off before he could start. “Nope, I’ll talk to you later. I’ll call tomorrow, or something. Go have fun.”

“You don’t even like Techno,” Tommy huffed.

“Yeah, I hate him. But he’s a good person, I guess. I’ll call you,” he repeated, before lightly shoving him towards Techno and Wilbur.

Techno grinned as he approached, probably the most emotion he had seen from the man. “Holy shit, you actually did it.”

Wilbur echoed the sentiment with a rare smile. “I’ll be real, I didn’t expect you to win at all. Like I was expecting you to lose. Terribly. And you-’d be so embarrassed, and--” He cut himself off after getting kicked by Techno.

“You did great, kid.”

Tommy barely even tried to hold back his smile. “Thanks. Seriously.”

“You murdered Sapnap,” Techno said. “Absolutely thrashed him. Good shit. It was fun to watch, too. I’m not really a big fan of watching races, I like being on the tracks more than anything, but it was pretty entertaining, I’ll give you that.”

“I know, it was cr--” Tommy glanced at his phone after getting a notification. Tubbo, asking if he was coming to the afterparty.

“Anyways,” Wilbur began. “Wanna grab milkshakes with us?”

“We always did it after my races,” Techno added.

Tommy glanced back down, typing a quick reply before pocketing his phone, setting it to silent. “Yeah, sounds good. Milkshakes.”

fin. 

end credits:

So. That’s the end.

Tommy barely hits up the after parties anymore. They’re boring, and he’d much rather get milkshakes with Techno and Wilbur anyways. Tubbo, Purpled, and Ranboo come along sometimes. Dream came along once, and it went okay. He might invite him again some time.

Both Dream and Techno really wanted to take a ride when Tommy raced, and he decided on knocking two birds out with one stone. Neither of them could decide who got to sit in the front seat, so they both sat in the back, fretting over his turns and worrying about his airbag working properly. Tommy’s not sure they’ll ever get along unless they have a common interest. But they do: Tommy.

(They used to be friends, back when Techno first moved in with Phil. They were best friends. Two sides of the same coin. They began racing together, and winning together as well. And they kept winning. And then people wanted to see who was better. They refused. They didn’t want to mess up their friendship.

They did. Inevitably, they stopped trusting each other. Dream started hanging out with Sapnap and George more, and Techno lost his first best friend. No one at school liked Techno. He was broody, and scary, and why would anyone like him over Dream, always so thoughtful and charismatic? When they finally raced when they were sixteen, Techno won.

It didn’t really matter. No one was cheering for him anyways.)

Dream and Techno don’t hang out. They definitely don’t, but sometimes Tommy will drag them both to the garage to ask for advice, or they’ll watch a race and cheer him on together, or Phil will invite Dream in when he catches him waiting for Tommy, and they’ll chat. It’s not hanging out. Definitely. The rivalry is still there: over cars, over grades, over Tommy, but Dream finds out he doesn’t need to be the best at everything to be loved and Techno finds out being at the top isn’t any fun when he’s alone. He isn’t alone, now. Dream is right there with him. (But they definitely aren’t friends. Techno will gut anyone who says otherwise.)

(Wilbur sometimes wishes Techno was just some kid across the street. He regrets it every time the thought passes his mind, but it’s there. Maybe he and Phil would have been closer that way. But Tech and Phil just fit. They're quieter, they think more before they speak, and they seem to have silent conversations Wilbur can never decipher. He wishes he was more like them.)

(His friends became his whole life. Niki, Fundy, and Jack Manifold were everything to him. The type of friends who he’d keep in touch with after college. They type he’d want around his kids. He doesn’t really want Schlatt around his kids. He likes Schlatt, he really does. But he knows they won’t last past high school. He doesn’t really mind.)

Phil was never a “bad parent.” Techno just had more pertinent issues when he came, and more of his energy naturally went towards Techno. By the time he didn’t need too, WIlbur wouldn’t let him in anymore. They work on it, eventually, when Wilbur graduates college and moves out. The space helps. Things work out.

Wilbur gets into a university for music just an hour away, so he visits at least once a week. Techno gets into UC Berkeley, his top choice, meaning he’s a whole nine hours away. It sucks, it really does. Tommy just got his new family, and they're already gone. But he makes do. (Dream moves out of state too, but is still only three hours away by train. Tommy visits him or Dream visits home at least once a month.)

He calls Freddie that year. They make plans to meet up, just him, Eryn, and Tommy. They meet up, and it’s a little awkward, but they keep in touch. They started texting again, because texting is easier than talking in person, and it’s going alright. He visits Clara, finally. Tubbo, Ranboo, and Purpled, as well as Dream, as well as Techno, Wilbur, and Phil all ask if he’d like to be accompanied, but he turns them all down and drives on his own.

He sits at her grave for hours, just explaining everything that’s been going on. A few people come and go, but no one looks at him weird. They're all grieving anyways, no matter how healed they’ve become. He talks and talks, until his voice hurts, and then he starts crying. He wishes she was alive.

He ends up calling the Simmon’s that day as well. They meet him at the graveyard, and they apologize for how they treated him after her death. He was grieving too, they remind him, and he forgives them. He keeps Clara’s secret and doesn’t tell them about her racing. It’s the least he could do.

As expected, Tommy doesn’t leave the Minecraft’s. He promises to himself just a few more months, and then just a couple more, and then just one more month . And then he stays. He stays and stays until one day, Phil asks him to pick up the papers he just printed. Tommy makes a quip about his old man bones before he gets to the printer, and then he’s holding adoption papers in his hands. He doesn’t cry. Phil does, and so does Wilbur, and so does Techno, but he definitely doesn't. 

Tommy gets therapy, eventually, and with time, his past experiences become specs in his rearview mirror. They've shaped him, made him who he is, but he refuses to let them affect his present. He's got bigger issues, now. He still hasn't managed to beat Dream or Techno while racing, but he has the rest of his life in Esempi to work on it. He's here to stay.