Chapter Text
Tommy and Tubbo stepped out of the van which dropped them off at their destination. A house in a suburb. The mailbox was dented by what Tommy could only assume was a car hitting it, and the grass in the front yard was half dead. “Yeah this place doesn’t look like a total hellhole. Thanks for sending me to another crack house to get abused at.” Tommy said to the driver, who rolled his eyes and drove off.
“Are we going in?” Tubbo asked, hands shaking as he fidgeted with his shirt’s buttons.
“Unless you wanna run away.”
“I think they’re still monitoring us, so we have to give it some time.”
Tommy sighed as he began to walk towards the front door. “I give it a week until one of us is dead.”
“Don’t say that! You know we’re dying together,” Tubbo says, giving Tommy a playful wink.
When they made it to the door, they barely had to knock, because it swung open almost immediately. And they were met with a tall man who stared down at them in confusion. “Phil! Did you order girl scout cookies or something?”
They heard another voice call out, “What the fuck? No! Send them away!”
He turned back to the boys, “Sorry, we don’t want your cookies.”
When he tried closing the door, Tommy stopped it with his foot and explained, “We’re not girl scouts, we’re the foster kids who got sent here. We’re in the right place, aren’t we?”
“Oh! Foster kids!” He shouted back inside, “It’s foster kids, Phil!” And upon fully opening the door for them, the man apologized. “So sorry about that, my name is Wilbur. And yours?”
“Tubbo.” One of the boys said, smiling.
“Mind your fucking business.” Said the other.
“That’s Tommy.”
“Nice to meet you two! Uh,” Wilbur pointed to a couch in the living room, “you can sit there until my dad- I mean, Phil, comes and shows you your room.”
And so they did. They took their seats on the deep green sofa, immediately noticing the stains and rips that mark its old age and heavy overusage. waited for this “Phil” guy to appear. In fact, they waited almost an hour. Finally, the promised man walked out from around the corner. He was dressed in robes and looked like he hadn’t had any sleep for the past few days.
“Ay, are you Phil?!” Tommy shouted at him when the man didn’t seem to acknowledge their presence.
“Huh? Oh!” Phil walked over to the two on the couch to introduce himself. “Yes, my name is Phil, I’m your foster dad now. You’re Tommy and Tubbo, correct?”
“That’s right!” Tubbo chirped, earning a disgusted look from Tommy.
“Yeah, they said uh… I had to take you both because…”
“Because if you separate us, I will kill myself.” Tommy finished the sentence for him.
“Yeah, that.” Phil runs a hand through his unkempt hair. He gave the impression of someone having a harder time than even the foster kids standing before him.
“I’ll let you in on a secret, Phil.” Tommy started, “I will be trying to kill myself regardless, so I hope you’re ready to clean up a lot of blood.”
Phil huffed a laugh, “Yeah, I am. You’re not the only mentally ill person in this house.”
“Who else lives in this dump?”
Ignoring the hostility, Philza answered his question. “There’s my son, Wilbur. My oldest is Technoblade. Ranboo’s closer to your age, and he got here not too long ago.”
“I don’t want to be related to any of those people.” .
“Well, it's a foster family, they don’t really count.” Tubbo said to him, patting his knee.
“They do to me!” The tone in Phil’s voice was tinged with a slight amount of offense. “You should go ahead and meet everyone, I have to make a trip to the store.”
The boys watched Phil left the living room, only to arrive back a couple seconds later in slip-on sandals. He grabbed the keys off the hook by the door and left without another word.
Tommy looks around, making sure the coast is clear.
“Ok, can we run away now?”
“Shouldn’t we meet the others, first?.”
Tommy rolled his eyes, “Fine.”
The two of them picked up their bags and walked up the stairs, where they were met with a long hallway, doors lining it on each side. Door number one was shut, and there was a sign that read “BEWARE OF DOG” taped to it. Of course, they didn’t bother with that one. Further down the hall was an open door, where they saw Wilbur again. He waved at them, and neither of them reciprocated the gesture.
Finally, at the end of the hall, there was an unlabeled bedroom door, and inside there were two twin sized beds on either side of the room. Tubbo claimed the one on the right, next to the window. Tommy’s was left, right by the closet. The room itself was too small, but there wasn’t much room to properly live in it. Fitting, seeing as Tommy and Tubbo were ready at any moment to be kicked out and sent back to the shelter. Or the hospital. Whatever way they were planning on leaving didn’t matter, they’d figure out those details later.
Before emptying his bag of clothes, Tubbo announced that he was going to find the bathroom. He left Tommy alone in the room and began searching the hallway again. And they’d missed it the first time, because the door was completely shut. The light was on, though, so Tubbo knocked to be courteous.
“Hello? Anyone in there?”
By the third knock, the door flew open. And standing right in front of him was a very tall, very lanky, teenage boy about his age. “Sorry, do you need to get in here?”
“N-no, I’m fine….” Tubbo’s face went hot, “I’m Tubbo, nice to meet you.”
“I’m Ranboo.”
“You’re another foster kid, right?”
“Yeah, are you the new kid? I heard we were getting a new one.”
“Mhm! Me and my friend, Tommy.”
“Woah, two of you…? That’s pretty cool.”
“Do you wanna, uh, meet him?”
“Oh I’m sure we’ll see each other during dinner.” Ranboo moved down the hall and into the already opened door which they’d seen Wilbur in earlier.
And Tubbo was in love. At least, that’s what he tells Tommy when he gets back to their bedroom.
“You’re in love with some random guy in a foster home?”
“Yes.”
“Good luck with that.”
Later that night, when Phil eventually came home, he had brought back chinese food. Tommy stared at the boxes, confused. “Didn’t you say you were going to the store?”
“I did. Now eat your dinner.”
The kitchen table was tiny, and for that reason it was empty. Wilbur ate in the living room with Ranboo, and Technoblade, who the boys only met briefly, took his food up to his bedroom. So it was just Tommy and Tubbo. Because Phil left to eat in his own room as well.
Tubbo shoved a fork full of noodles into his mouth, “So do you still wanna leave?”
Tommy picked at the rice in his box, “...Not yet. It’s not too bad here, I guess.”
“The food is good.”
“It’s chinese food, of course it’s good.”
“But how often do we get chinese food? Exactly.”
Maybe Tubbo was right. Hey, the place seemed relatively alright. A bit unclean in some places, but all of the other occupants seemed nice.
Aside from Phil.
Tommy hated Phil.
-
The next morning, Tommy and Tubbo got to learn more about their housemates. Starting with Wilbur.
Wilbur was sitting in the living room, eyes focused on the television in front of him. When Tubbo got his attention, he looked pretty irritated. “What?”
“Hey, I just wanted to tell you good morning!”
“I don’t know you. Leave me alone.” Well that was unexpected.
Next was Ranboo, who Tommy caught while trying to make himself a bowl of cereal. He already wasn’t a fan, based purely on how tall the other boy was. But other than that, something irked him. “What’s your deal?” Tommy asked, an accusatory tone carried his words.
“I-I’m just trying to get some cereal.”
“No, you’re weird. I don’t like you. Why are you here?”
“Because I was in foster care...? I don’t know what you’re asking me here.”
“What other homes have you been put into? Why were you in foster? Hm?”
“Is this an interrogation? I’m just trying to get some breakfast.”
Then Tommy ends it. As fast as he’d started the conversation, it was over. He felt pretty proud of himself for it, although he didn’t actually accomplish anything. Tubbo meets him back in the kitchen, Ranboo has already left with his cereal and Tommy is pushing the soggy mound still in his bowl around.
“Are you eating that?” Tubbo asks.
“No. It tastes awful.”
“Probably better than the food at the home.”
“Yeah, bile is better than the food at the home.” Tommy then looks at Tubbo, notes in his head the bags and dark circles under his eyes, and he stifles a laugh. “I’m surprised you’re still sober, would’ve thought you’d leave in the middle of the night and find a homeless man to steal pills from.”
“Pfft, yeah right. I don’t know this area well enough for that.”
“But when you do…”
“I’m doing it. Not that exactly, but I’m doing it.”
“And if you don’t come back within two days…”
“You’re allowed to kill yourself.”
“Awesome.”
“What are you two talkin’ about?” A deep voice startled the boys as they looked up to see Technoblade staring down at them.
“None of your business.” Tommy replied.
“That’s fine, I don’t actually care. Just came to get somethin’ to eat.”
Then out of nowhere, Tubbo questioned aloud, “Why do you eat in your bedroom, big guy?”
Techno wasn’t sure if he wanted to give the kid an answer, but he did so anyway. “I like bein’ away from everyone. And I’m on house arrest and it’s harder for me to try to leave if I’m in my room.”
“House arrest? The fuck did you do?” Tommy was suddenly interested in this guy.
“I killed a man.”
“No, be honest.”
“I am bein’ honest. I killed a man and took an insanity plea because I have schizophrenia.” He took a bite of the sandwich he had been putting together throughout their conversation. “That enough backstory for you, huh?”
When Techno took himself and his sandwich back upstairs, Tommy turned and whispered to Tubbo, “He thinks he’s so cool…”
Tubbo shrugs back, “He’s pretty cool.”
“No he’s not.”
“I’d be scared to fight him.”
“You’re scared to fight anyone.”
“He’s fucking crazy, dude.” Tubbo laughed, “He killed someone!”
“I could kill someone.”
“I know.”
And when the clock hit ten, the boys were out of the front door in a hurry. They didn’t know the neighborhood, and they didn’t have any money, but they wanted to go on an adventure.
Thankfully, it was a nice day outside. Not too hot or too cold, and there weren't many people patrolling the streets who could possibly catch them doing what they weren’t supposed to. That being, looking for something to steal.
First things first, they found the local big supermarket. Great, because they didn’t need any money to get what they needed in a place like that.
Maybe clothes should have been a bigger priority, but Tubbo was drawn closer to the pharmacy. “Oh, already?” Tommy raised his eyebrows in dull awe at Tubbo, who had grabbed a bottle of Benadryl.
“Hey, I mean.” He placed the bottle into his pocket while they walked, “I’m tired.”
“Tired of being sober.”
“Exactly. Are you gonna need me for something, or can I pour these out into a bag in the bathroom?”
“Go ahead.”
And with Tubbo gone… Tommy wasn’t sure what to do. So he went into the cereal aisle. Maybe it was because he didn’t eat his breakfast, but he was craving some. He grabbed a small self-serve bowl of Froot Loops off the shelf.
He met Tubbo in the bathroom a minute later, it was empty aside from the two of them, likely because it was so early. He watched as Tubbo filled a shopping bag with the pills, dropping a couple pieces of the dry cereal into his mouth as he did so.
“Oh cool, cereal.” Tubbo commented, twisting the bag tight around the contents. He ripped the unneeded parts off and shoved the rest back into his pocket.
“All good?” Tommy asked, mouth full.
“Yep!” The other boy threw the empty bottle and remaining plastic bag pieces into the trash as they walked out.
Tommy roamed the store freely with no concern about anyone catching him eating the food without paying, though not many people seemed to care. They stopped by the clothes, barely separated by gender, and looked for anything new to wear.
Without even trying anything on, they snatched as many interesting outfits as they could and walked to a semi-secluded area of the store. Tubbo, who had a wad of plastic bags still in his back pocket, removed a few as Tommy ripped the clothes from their hangers. He also removed anything that might’ve made the machines at the front doors beep. When they finished, they kicked the hangers under a shelf and continued on their way.
“You still have your phone?” Tommy questioned as they walked.
“Yeah, why?”
“Wanna… call your dad? See if he can give us something fun to do?”
Tubbo rolled his eyes, “Call my dad for drugs? After not speaking to him for weeks? Hard pass.”
“Wait, why not?”
“I don’t… want to. I haven’t been allowed to speak to him in years, and I chose not to contact him when I was in therapy. Do you know how awkward that would be?”
“I don’t care! Call him, you’re his son. He’ll be happy to hear your voice.”
“And disappointed when he realizes I only called to bum drugs off him.”
“You do that anyway.”
“Not always.” Tubbo sighed, putting his hand into his other back pocket to grab his phone. It was small, but it was a smartphone. More than what Tommy had. He saw Tommy mouth the words ‘thank you’ when he raised the phone to his ear. “Hello?”
“Hello? Who is this?” The voice on the other end of the line was gruff, but it was Tubbo’s dad’s.
“It’s me, dad. Tubbo.”
“Oh, Tubbo!” His voice switched very quickly to a happy tone. “I haven’t talked to you in forever, Jesus, did they put you in the fuckin’ psych ward or something?”
“Well, kind of. But anyway, I was wondering if you happened to be around anywhere?”
“Where are you?”
“I don’t know, some… run-down neighborhood? I’m being fostered by some old guy with like three other people-“
“Four!” Tommy interjected.
“Right, four. Tommy’s here. Oh, ok.” He pushed the phone into his friend’s face, “Wants to say hi.”
Tommy took it carefully and raised it to his ear, “Hello?”
“Hey Tommy! How are you?”
“I’m alright, Schlatt.”
“You keepin’ my boy out of trouble?”
He looked at Tubbo, at the way he shook and fidgeted when he didn’t know what else to do. He looked at his pocket full of pills he knew were dangerous if taken at too high a dosage. And he lied. “Yeah… he’s alright.”
“Don’t let him get touched by any foster freaks, got it?”
“Yes sir.”
“Good. Hand the phone back.”
And he did as he was told. “Hey, dad,” Tubbo started once he got his phone again, “I was wondering actually if you… had anything you could give us? Doesn’t have to be a lot— or even that good, just— I’m not doing too well right now and-“
“Tubbo, Tubbo… I got you. I don’t want my son to be upset. Where are you? I’ll drop something off in the bushes at a park or whatever.”
“Oh, um. I don’t know the name exactly but there is a school playground around here, if you can… manage that.”
“Yeah yeah… I’ll just track your location, don’t turn your phone off, okay?”
“Okay.”
“I’ll talk to you later.”
“Alright. Bye.” And before he could even finish his goodbye, the call ended.
Tommy slapped Tubbo on the back, “You did it! And pulling out the ‘feeling sad’ card? Awesome.”
“I don’t like using my dad like this. You know, he has it pretty hard not being able to see me. He’ll take any chance he can get to speak to me.”
“Which is exactly why he’s perfect. Anything you want, no charge, no worries that someone will break your legs, you’ve got it made! Appreciate what you have, you’re the addict here, you should be happy.”
“I’m… I am glad to be getting something. I’ve been sober for too long.”
“Like two weeks.”
“Too long.” Tubbo removed the bag from his pocket and filled his palm with a few pills.
“Chill out, do you want to overdose again? If you do, you know what I’ll do.”
“I’ll be fine.” He threw the pills into his mouth and swallowed them quickly. He’d gotten very good at that, swallowing pills without water or anything.
Tommy rolled his eyes, “When you wake up in the hospital don’t come crawling to me.”
“You’ll be in the next room down.”
“You know it.” Tommy winked.