Chapter Text
It was boiling hot in the sun and Tubbo was severely regretting his decision to go out. However, if he wanted to get his project done in time this was a very necessary step. He looked up at the chainmail fence surrounding him, which didn't fit in with the rest of the sleek surroundings of Paradise. The grimy used appliances, metals, and other trash of course had to be pushed into a small corner of the city just like every other imperfect thing that the citizens didn't like.
Lucky for Tubbo however, it was close to the wall. He always hoped one of these days when the trucks came to move the waste to the outside, he'd get just a glimpse beyond the city.
Today however was not that day as he dug through the junk for parts. Sure he could try to buy the shiny new parts they had at the hardware store down his street, but… if he and his dad used up the money for the week on expensive parts, he might find himself on the outside sooner than he'd like. So, he saved money and decided to come to get the pieces he needed second-hand.
Cars were littered around, nails scattered haphazardly, and large sheets of metal that had come from various construction projects. Tubbo pulled out his tools before attempting to disassemble a car. He hummed as he worked, a tune that was vaguely familiar but he couldn't quite place where he'd heard it.
"Whatcha working on?"
Tubbo turned around to look to where the voice had come from. He blinked, seeing no one in the still blazing hot yard. He frowned, the heat just had gotten to him… that was all.
"Don't ignore me bitch!"
As Tubbo turned back to start to work on disassembling the car again he heard the voice. Looking up he saw a young blond boy with bright blue eyes in a dirty red and white t-shirt and patched shorts.
Tubbo backed up in shock, "What the-" He said suddenly as his eyes went wide.
In all the times he'd been making trips here… he'd never seen anyone else. The people who worked for the junkyard were usually gone before Tubbo arrived. As he steps back, Tubbo's foot landed awkwardly on a tire as he suddenly fell over.
The boy snorted, "Not very graceful are you?" He grinned as if Tubbo falling over was the funniest thing he'd ever seen.
Tubbo grumbled as he sat up, "We at least I don't go around sneaking up on people."
"I didn't sneak up on you-" The boy protested, his blue eyes gave a pouting expression, "You were just too dumb to look away from what you were doing. So anyway, why are you in a junkyard? Do most people do that?"
"No, and I could ask you the same question," Tubbo pointed out as he dusted himself off, "Besides I've never seen you around, you new to this sector?"
"Oh uh- yeah!" The boy nodded.
"...are you going to tell me your name?"
"My- right! Name! My name's Tommy," Tommy said cheerfully, "And what's yours? If you don't tell me I'm gonna just call you trash boy."
"It's Tubbo."
"Bit of an odd one huh? Don't talk much," Tommy tilted his head as he examined Tubbo further, "Tubbo… like tubaware, or… tubbers. You aren’t a tubber right Tubbo?"
"No?" He raised an eyebrow, "And it's not that weird, right?"
"Well we look like we're the same age so I guess this makes us friends," Tommy held out his hand excitedly.
"If we're friends as you say, you can help me find parts," Tubbo suggested.
"Project?"
"Mhm. For school. If I come up with something mind-blowing enough, I might get the funding to actually make some of my crazier ideas." Tubbo explained.
"Oh- sure!" Tommy nodded, "I can help."
So that's how Tubbo found himself with someone else for the first time in the junkyard, the two chatting as the sun moved overhead.
They finished once the sun was halfway covered by the looming wall, the dimming light casting an orange glow over the city. Light shined off of the glass windows and metals that made up the buildings of the city. Only those further toward the center however were high enough to see over the wall.
It was then that Tubbo decided that he'd better head home and say goodbye to Tommy.
The boy didn't seem bad, as off-putting as he could be, Tubbo could sense that he at least seemed genuine. He grabbed his bag, slinging it over his shoulder as he started to walk. "Well, I should get home-"
"Wait-!" Tommy cut in, quickly stepping forward, "... you're just going to leave me alone?"
"What about your family bossman?" Tubbo asked curiously.
"That… I may have lied? Just a little bit. I… ran away and so um, yeah I don't have a family," Tommy rubbed his neck.
"...oh," Tubbo muttered before thinking for a very long second, "Well, why don't you come home with me?" He suggested. His dad might be mad but… he'd deal with that later.
Tommy blinked, "Wait- seriously?"
"I don't see why we can't try," Tubbo smiled. However, as he did he looked over to the wall, "Hold that thought.
There was a light, a flashing light as someone walked along the bottom edge. Tubbo stared, no way. He ran towards the wall, Tommy in tow.
It wasn't the first time he'd seen someone passing by, and suddenly his feelings from earlier were confirmed as the gate slowly opened. However the further up it got, the more Tubbo realized it wasn't leading to the outside but instead, to another door.
"Tubbo?" A tired and annoyed voice called out.
Tubbo recognized that voice from his previous visits. "Hey Sam," Tubbo waved.
Sam walked over his green hair a mess under his official guard helmet. He frowned at Tubbo sternly, darting his eyes towards Tommy then back, "You know you're not supposed to be near here."
"I was just looking for parts," Tubbo says, rubbing his neck.
Sam's gaze became even sterner, "I know what you were doing. You wanted to get a glimpse of the wall from here. Tubbo there's nothing out there. So just… go home okay?" His voice was just as stern as his gaze, but it betrayed a hint of something softer.
Tubbo backs up, holding onto Tommy, "Okay okay fine. We're leaving." He says exasperated as he rolls his eyes.
They step through the piles of parts, metals, and various other things that had been left in the massive yard for disposal. It wasn’t a frequent hangout for most teens, but it made Tubbo feel like his small world was just a little less sterile than the rest of the city.
The two walked down the polished concrete streets of the city as the street lights came on. Right on schedule.
They walked past the rows of houses, Tommy looking around curiously at just about everything.
Tubbo glanced at Tommy's wrist curiously, "...you don't have a code?"
Tommy blinks, "A… code?"
"Mhm," Tubbo showed his wrist, "The barcode that gives us access to the city and our money, we… all have it." Or at least, they should . Yet here was a kid without one.
"Oh uh guess I just didn't, guess that makes me special, " Tommy teased, "I'm different so that means I'm way cooler than you."
Eventually, they arrived at Tubbo's house, only recognizable from the number printed on the door. Tubbo picked up the bag of groceries that had been dropped at the front steps before opening the door and heading inside.
"Dad! I'm home!" Tubbo called out as he walked inside, "I brought a friend over."
Tubbo carried the bags over and set them on the counter as Tommy came in. He looked over at the living room, where Schlatt was sleeping on the sofa, his chest slowly rising and falling as a sound like a truck engine starting came out of his mouth. In the background the TV could faintly be heard, the news usually on at this time. The artificial light shined onto the bottles sitting scattered and empty around the living room. Tubbo sighed before he started clearing the table.
"What's that…?" Tommy asked, gesturing to the bottles.
"Alcohol," Tubbo shook his head with a sigh as he tossed the bottles in the recycling and the cups in the sink, "Dad likes it a lot for some reason. I hate that stuff." Tubbo explained, "I think it's nasty."
At least those were the good days. The ones where his dad would let him have a taste of his alcohol early on while they ate dinner together. It meant his dad was at least acknowledging him, or on occasion even happy with him. At the very least his dad didn't look at him like it was Tubbo's fault mom was gone, or that his dad spent everything on booze.
The other decent days were like this when Tubbo didn't have to talk to his dad. When he worked all day, came home, and proceeded to drink until he passed out like this.
After cleaning up and putting the groceries away, Tubbo led Tommy upstairs.
Tubbo's room was simple, white walls, a green blanket on his bed, and a plain desk. He had a few toys as a kid but had gotten rid of them a while ago. Now his shelf was filled with books on various sciences, mostly engineering.
"Woah- what's that!?" Tommy stared at the project laid out on the floor as Tubbo sat down the bag of parts he'd been carrying.
"This, big man, is what we gathered those parts for, " Tubbo explained, "I've done the research and… it should work." Tubbo said, gesturing to it, "The point of it is to be an object recognition system. Which is really just a fancy way of saying it can sense where things are. But it's one of the basics of robotics. If I can get it down I can work up to something more advanced." He frowned, "I'm… getting placed in a few months so I need to impress my teachers and get a good position."
"Placed?" Tommy tilted his head curiously.
"You don't-" Tubbo started to say but thinks better of it, "well… when you turn 18 you go through the placement program, they match you with a job."
"Really?" Tommy asked, "But what if you don't want the job?"
Tubbo shrugged, "Well, theoretically it's the job that suits you best. I mean you have to be good at it to get placed."
"But… that doesn't mean you like it," Tommy pointed out.
"If you're good at it, why wouldn't you like it?" Tubbo frowned.
"I dunno."
Tubbo paused for a very long second, "How do you not know this stuff?" He asked curiously, "I mean you don't even know what a code is, or placement. How have you gone so long without learning about it."
"That is a great question," Tommy nodded seriously before blinking, "Wait so how does this thing work?" He asks, gesturing to the half-put-together machine.
Tubbo folded his arms, "You're dodging the question." Tommy ignored him, messing with the parts before Tubbo had to chastise him.
Tubbo would answer that question another day. Though thoughts swirled in his mind. He didn't know how some of the people higher up in Paradise lived… maybe they didn't have any need for this stuff. Maybe Tommy had just run away to see how the lower sectors lived. Whatever it was, Tommy was strange. Yet Tubbo couldn't help but feel a connection to the blonde kid.
Eret sat in the quiet conference room. They'd have a meeting soon regarding the affairs of Paradise, discussing plans with the sector leaders. They glanced around the room at the modern furniture and various plants that were dotted around the sleek white walls.
It all felt fake. Eret knew it wasn't but ever since they were a kid, this city had never felt like home. It was like someone had tried to recreate the feeling of life, but instead had produced something uncanny. Close, but off enough that it felt like everything was made of plastic.
They look back down at the papers they had been reading. The labs wanted more funding of course. People in the lower sectors were starting to seem restless. And the placement examinations were happening in a few months.
"Eret?" A familiar voice breaks Eret out of his thoughts.
"Oh- Dream," Eret looks up, "What can I do for you?"
Dream was a young freckled man in a white lab coat, his hair was a soft strawberry blonde and his eyes were bright green with a piercing gaze. He was followed by another man, one Eret had never thought to ask about in all the times he'd seen him with Dream.
"I need you to report a missing child," Dream explained calmly, "As soon as possible. And order all the city guards to look for him."
"A child?" Eret asked curiously, "I'm going to need more information than that."
"His name is Tommy," Dream sets down a picture of a blonde boy, no more than 16, "Find him."
"I understand," Eret nodded, "I'll get my best on the case for you." They assured.
Dream smiled, "I've always appreciated how quick you are to take up the initiative." He turned to the other man with him, "Punz, you'll go with the guards Eret chooses. Wait outside for now."
"But, why are you coming to me personally about this?" Eret asks Dream once Punz had left the conference room.
Dream raised an eyebrow, stepping closer, "Eret, my business is my own. You don't get paid to ask questions, do you? Your job is to look pretty for the people and do what I ask. Understand?"
"Yes… sir."