Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The Minecraft family had just pulled up to the new house they’d bought near the middle of London. 

The house was painted a neutral brown with gray shingles, overall a rather dull house. It had two floors as well as a small porch and a balcony. There were three bedrooms and two bathrooms with a spacious living room-kitchen setup. All in all, it was an unassuming and inconspicuous house.

The family on the other hand…

The first head poking itself out of the small family car had curly brown hair and a red beanie on top which attempted to control the mess.

Following the brunette was a startling head of pink hair pulled into a long intricate braid. Pinned into it was a small golden crown.

Finally, the driver’s side opened and out popped a head of shoulder-length light blonde hair wearing a green and white striped bucket hat.

Yes, this family was quite the opposite of their new house. 

“Dad, why did we have to move? Our old house was perfectly fine!” That came from the brunette.

A small laugh was given in response before the blonde spoke up. 

“Wil, you know that we had to move so we could be closer to your new school. You don’t see Techno complaining do you?”

A grunt could be heard coming from said boy.

”Well, that’s because Techno doesn’t talk as much. If he expressed himself more like me, I’m sure he’d be complaining more.”

Another grunt.

”How about we just head on inside? I’m sure you guys must be at least a little bit excited to see the new house, right boys?” 

He received a dramatic eye roll for his efforts. Dadza gets no love.

“This new house looks boring. Y’know, if we had to get a new house, I think it should be bright yellow. Like sand! Dad, did you know that sand tastes really good? If you put it in your mouth you can crunch it in between your teet-”

”I’m gonna have to stop you right there Wil. Now quit stalling and head on inside!”

With minimal amounts of grumbling, the two boys went inside to explore their new house. 

Wilbur gave his twin a grin before saying, “I bet I can get the better bedroom before you!”

Techno, never one to back down from a challenge, gave him a small determined grin and an answering nod.

”Okay then, race you upstairs!”

And they were off. Now keep in mind that they don’t know the layout of the house, only vague details. Meaning they had no idea where the stairs were.

Thankfully, the house wasn’t that big and they were able to find it without crashing into anything. 

Wilbur stepped into a rather large room with a big window that had seating under it. A bay window, he thinks distantly. In the corner of the room were a desk and chair. Opposite of the desk was a bed frame and mattress with a small nightstand next to it. There was also a door near the bed which he assumed led to a closet.

Wilbur decided he liked the room so he went in search for his twin.

Going down the hallway, he found Techno in a near copy of his room, except the desk and bed were flipped. 

“That was an unfair contest! The rooms look the same.” Wilbur complained.

Techno gave him a smug look as if he had expected that.

”Boys! Come down and help me unload the trunk! Then you can decorate your rooms after dinner.”

Wilbur looked at his twin with an enquiring look. With a sigh of resignation, Techno asked, “Race ya?” 

Wilbur grinned. 

Wilbur had just finished dinner and was now in his room trying to plan out where he wanted all his stuff to go. Dad had told him to make an attempt at being neat, meaning he couldn’t just throw his stuff around randomly like he would at their old house. 

Eventually, he’d decided to hang up a few of his favorite band posters on the walls, setting his guitar and stand underneath them. On the desk, he’d sat his new school things and computer. Finally, he’d done his best to put sheets on the mattress and sat the photo of their family on the nightstand. 

The photo showed the younger versions of him and his twin, his dad, and his mum. Even though he didn’t really remember much about her, he still liked to see the full image of their happy family before she had…died.

He was interrupted from his thoughts by a loud bang coming from behind him. When he turned around, he’d seen that his guitar had fallen over. Odd. There was nothing near it that would cause it to fall, and he knew the stand wasn’t broken.

Suddenly, he heard a soft giggle.

Thinking it was his brother, he yelled, “Techno that wasn’t funny! Fuck you!” 

He went to put his guitar back up when he heard the quietest whisper of “fuck you!” Assuming that was also Techno, he went to open his door to tell him to stop pissing him off.

To his surprise, however, Techno wasn’t there, yet he heard more giggling. Was he going mad? 

Going back into his room, he looked around briefly for any sort of device that might be hidden and have these sounds recorded on it. He found nothing.

Wilbur was very confused. It couldn’t have been Techno. Now that he thought about it, Techno would never giggle like that, plus, he was pretty sure his brother was off in his own room reading. Techno also wouldn’t be this childish. So who’d knocked over his guitar and was whispering and giggling? 

Maybe it was the wind.

More giggling immediately had him dismiss that thought. 

“Alright, you little fucker. Whoever is in my room better get the fuck out. Now.” He put on his most intimidating look to back up his statement.

There was more giggling.

”Oh for fuck’s sake! What do you want from me you shitty disembodied voice?!” 

More giggling, and wheezing, if he heard correctly before someone finally spoke. 

“You should’ve seen your face big man! You looked so constipated!” It was a distinctly British voice. Definitely not Techno. They also sounded rather…young. Why was there a child in his room?

”Alright, whoever’s speaking better come out before I get my dad!” He hoped they’d listen this time.

There was a distortion in the air in front of him, and then a quiet pop before a body shimmered into view. The body was floating and seemed to be a young boy around eleven.

They had blonde hair and blue eyes like his dad, although his hair was a brighter blonde, and was wearing a white t-shirt with red sleeves.

Wilbur blanched in shock. 

“Who the hell are you?!”

“The name’s Big Man TommyInnit!”

Wilbur wrinkled his nose.

“That’s a terrible name. What kind of parent names their child that? A bad one, that’s for sure. Or a crazy one. Maybe both.” 

Definitely both because really, what kind of name was ‘Big Man TommyInnit’?

“So Tommy-”

He was cut off by a grumble of “that’s not my name” before continuing.

”Why’re you in my house? Are you a wrong’un? Were you trying to steal my precious guitar?” He shot the floating boy an accusing look.

The boy looked confused. “Why’d I want that stupid thing? It looks useless. It wasn’t even that loud either when I knocked it over!”

Well, at least Wilbur knew who’d done it. 

Wait a minute- 

“How dare you insult my prized instrument! I’ll have you know that this is the best guitar you’ll ever see!” 

The boy shot him an unimpressed look.

”Also,” he continued, “why’d you knock it over anyway? What if you’d broken it?” 

“Then I’d blame gravity,” the boy said. Wilbur wasn’t sure if he liked him or not. No wait, he definitely didn’t. He’d insulted his guitar which was unacceptable. 

“Whatever. I just want to know why you’re in my house. Also, how the fuck are you floating?!”

The ghost giggled again. 

“That’s a funny word y’know.” They smiled.

”Huh? What word?” What had he said?

”Fuck! It sounds weird, but I kinda like it! You were saying it earlier too. What does it mean?”

Oh shit. Wilbur messed up. He’d cursed multiple times in front of what he assumed was a child. A strange, floating one, but a child nonetheless.

“Well, Tommy, that word is a bad word. It’s not a word children are supposed to say. Only older people like adults can say those words.” Wilbur was going to ignore the fact that he’d been cursing for as long as he can remember.

”Hey! I already told you my name’s not ‘Tommy’. I’m also not a child! I’m a big man.”

Mental. The child is mental. 

“I can admit, I’m not the smartest of people, but I think I could tell when there’s a child floating in front of me. You never answered how you’re doing that.”

”Isn’t this normal? I thought ghosts were supposed to float.” 

Wait. What? 

Ghosts? Seriously?

Sure, the child was floating, but maybe it’s just a projection. Or maybe he’d hit his head…perhaps he was dreaming? Maybe they never moved houses and this was all happening in his mind.

Something extremely cold touched him. Wilbur shivered and then looked down at his arm where the cold was coming from. 

The child-ghost-thing was touching him. Well, it wasn’t really touching so much as it was sticking his whole fucking hand inside his arm.

”WHAT THE FUCK?!”

Wilbur fell backward, looking at the ghost-child in fear. This couldn’t be a dream. If it were a dream, he wouldn’t feel that all-encompassing freeze he felt from the ghost’s touch. 

“Wilbur? What happened?” Oh, there was someone in his room.

Looking behind him, Wilbur saw a pair of legs. It was Techno. Had they seen the ghost? 

“Tech! There was- There was-”

Hands were touching him now, grounding him. 

“Wilbur, I don’t know what happened, but you’re panicking a lot, so it must’ve been bad. You were also yelling a lot earlier. You okay?”

“I- Tech, there’s a ghost here! It- it knocked over my guitar!"

Techno looked at him weirdly. "Is this a prank? Are you trying to trick me, Wilbur? You should know that ghosts aren't real. You're such a nerd."

What? No. No no no. Techno doesn't believe him.

"Tech, I swear to you that I'm not lying. Promise. There really was a ghost in here! And- and it looked a bit like dad!"

"That's nice Wilbur. I think the stress of moving houses is getting to ya. I'll go tell dad that you went to bed early."

Techno didn't believe him. He knew he'd seen that ghost thing. Stupid child must've disappeared as soon as Techno came in. Fucking fantastic.

After Wilbur experienced no more interruptions by childish ghosts, he finished unpacking and went to bed. 

The next morning, he woke up to the feeling of ice on his face. Opening his eyes, he sees that same face of the child from last night. His eyes widen.

"It's you! You fucking gremlin! Disappearing on me like that and making me look crazy in front of my brother!"

The ghost had the decency to look slightly embarrassed and ashamed but covered it up quickly. 

"Sorry big man, but he kinda scared me coming in like that all of a sudden. Oh! By the way, are you alright? You fell over yesterday when I touched you."

Wilbur sighed. "Yeah, I'm fine. So you're really a ghost? How'd you die?" And wasn't that weird, asking a dead child's ghost how they died. Hopefully he didn't seem too insensitive.

"Oh. I dunno. Don't really remember much before I became a ghost." The ghost got a little sad then. "I really only remember this one thing...but it's so random that I wasn't sure if it was a real memory or not."

"What was it?" Wilbur asked because fuck he really had nothing better to do. 

"A smile."

Oh. Well, that's better than what it could've been. At least the child wouldn't get any nightmares. 

"So your name is Wilbur? I guess that's an alright name. Not as great as mine, of course, but it'll do."



The audacity of this child. 

"Shut up you stupid gremlin."

The ghost wrinkled it's nose. "What's a gremlin? I bet it's something really amazing, like me."

Wilbur squinted his eyes at the ghost. Was this child for real? They didn't sound sarcastic or anything. Strange.

"Uh, a gremlin is...like a ghost! Yeah, it's something like you. I guess.."

Tommy seemed to like that. 

"That means that you are not a gremlin. Only I am, because there's only one Big Man TommyInnit."



"Tommy, why do you call yourself that? It'd be easier to just say Tommy."

“Are you saying you don’t like my name? I’ll have you know my name is the best name ever. There’s no other name like it, and no one else would be deserving of it.” The ghost looks offended that Wilbur would insinuate anything otherwise.

”Alright then ‘Big Man TommyInnit’, while I’ve absolutely loved our little conversation, I need to get breakfast.”

Tommy pouted before giving a reluctant nod and disappearing again. What a child.

“There ya are Wil! I was wondering whether you’d get up before noon or if I’d have to go up there and drag you down! Nice to know there’s still a bit of hope for you.”

”Gee thanks dad,” Wilbur drawled. 

“Dad, you won’t believe what Wilbur was going on about last night.”

Wilbur shot his twin a dirty look.

”What happened Wil? Find a girlfriend, maybe?” 

Wilbur sputtered for a few seconds, blushing.

”N-No! It’s just… Well, dad, there’s this…ghost haunting me.”

Phil stopped what he was doing to give a concerned look to his son.

”Really? And you’re sure about that?”

Wilbur nodded. 

“Yeah! Last night, a ghost came into my room and knocked over my guitar! It also started giggling and stuff.” Dad would believe him.

”Wil, are you alright? Tech mentioned last night that you were stressed from the move. Now, I know this is a bit unconventional, but the move was necessary so we’d be closer to your school. If there’s anything you need to talk about, just know that I’m here.”

“But dad, I did tell you! There really was a ghost last night! It- it even cursed! Well, actually, I think it was copying me. It looked like a child, around 10 maybe-”

”Wilbur, you cursed in front of a child?!”

”Yeah, but that’s not the important part!”

Whoops, dad didn’t look happy. 

“In my defense, that child is an absolute gremlin.” He could practically hear the ghostly giggles now.

”Wilbur.” Uh oh. Dad’s serious tone. Better hope he isn’t gonna craft a belt on him.

”Look, son, I know that moving houses and schools can be difficult, but you can’t just make up far fetched stories about gremlin children. It won’t be good for my mental health in the long run. Now, how about you eat breakfast and we can talk about your little ‘ghost problem’ later.”

Wilbur sighed. Neither Techno nor his father believed him. Looks like he was stuck with the child until further notice. 

“Yeah. Whatever, dad.”

After breakfast, he went back up to his new room, only to find Tommy sitting, or rather, hovering, on the ground, plucking at his guitar’s strings roughly. 

“Hey, hey! Don’t do that!” He grabbed his guitar out of the ghost’s cold hands. 

“But I wanted to see what was so great about your ‘guitar’! It doesn’t do anything. It’s boring, therefore, so are you.” 

Little fucker.

”That might be what you think, but this guitar is very special to me. And I’ll have you know that my friends and family find me very…entertaining.” That’s one way of putting it.

“Sure, sure. But your guitar still sucks.”

”Oh, fuck you!”

The ghost wrinkles it’s nose. “You said that word again. Is it a rude word? Is that why it’s only for adults? It shouldn’t matter though, because I’m a Big Man, meaning I can say fuck too!”

Godsdamnnit. Now he taught the child how to curse. What was dad gonna say? No, dad wouldn’t say anything, because he wouldn’t be finding out. 

“Tommy, you shouldn’t say fuck. You know how some words insult people? Well that’s what this word does, and you don’t want to hurt people’s feelings, do you?

The ghost looked like he was thinking hard about it. It least he hadn’t objected to Wilbur  calling him Tommy.

”WAIT A MINUTE!” Wilbur winced at the volume.

”THAT MEANS YOU’VE BEEN INSULTING ME! HOW DARE YOU INSULT THE GREAT BIG MAN TOMMYINNIT-”

Wilbur put his hand over the ghost’s mouth to stop the yelling. That didn’t stop the ghost from continuing their muffled rant, or licking his hand once they got tired of it. Wilbur shook his hand in disgust and shivered at the cold, wet feeling. Very unpleasant.

“You fuck. How dare you try and silence me! It’s a sin to try and do it! You should be ashamed of yourself! You are no longer a big man in my eyes. So ha!”

Ah. He cursed. Wilbur was so dead if dad finds out.

”Wilbur would you shut up, I’m trying to play Minecraft.” Oh, that was Techno. He must’ve heard Tommy’s loud yelling. 

Wilbur turned and shot his twin a sheepish look. Techno grumbled a bit before leaving and shutting the door again. Just like the last time, Tommy had disappeared. Asshole.

Chapter Text

Wilbur sputtered as ice-cold water was ceremoniously dumped on his head, subsequently waking him from his sleep.

He shivered, turning to glare at whoever dumped it, only to be greeted by a translucent face. 

His stifled a shriek, biting his cheek so he didn’t wake anyone else. Tommy cackled, somehow holding a large glass measuring cup. 

“You little bitch!” Wilbur whispered. “What if I catch a cold from this?! Do you want me to die?!”

Tommy giggled. “Think you’re being a bit dramatic there fuck!”

Wilbur growled playfully, moving his sheets aside so he could get up and tackle the formless ghost. 

“Get over here you! I gotta bone to pick with you!”

Tommy predictably dodged, even though he didn’t have to seeing as he could literally phase through things. 

“Geez, not only are you a furry, but you’re also slow and old! No wonder it’s always so easy to prank you!”

Wilbur gasped dramatically, albeit quietly. 

“How dare you say that! How dare you call me easy! I happen to be very experienced in the art of pranking! But it’s not like I can help getting dumped with freezing cold water while I’m sleeping!”

Tommy stuck out his tongue, one that seemed to have a blue tint to it. “Sucks to suck, fuck! Imagine not being able to phase through water. Pathetic!”

Wilbur rolled his eyes, used to the familiar retorts the child gave. Though he did regret teaching them the word fuck. It didn’t help that he used it wrong, well, not necessarily wrong, but it sounded weird when he just called him a fuck.

It had been close to a month since the ghost had first appeared in his room, and neither Techno nor Phil had met the ghost yet, which was quite surprising. They were really loud, after all. 

It had become apparent that the child was very chaotic, and loved to prank people. Namely him. 

So now they had a routine where Tommy’d prank him at least every other day, and then Wilbur would get angry before they laughed about it afterwards. 

It was fun, even though it usually ended with him having to either change his clothes or clean something up. 

How the ghost had managed to get his hands on a confetti canon, Wilbur still had no idea. All he knew was that it was hell to clean up, and after that he’d regulated what went in and out of the house.

“Hey Wil, you alright? I heard- WHAT THE HECK? Why’re you all soaked?!”

Wilbur glanced down at his clothes that were indeed still soaked. His hair was also wet. And dripping. It was very uncomfortable now that he thought about it.

”Uh, it rained?” Courtesy of one disappearing ghost. 

And that was another thing. Every time something happened that caught his family members’ attention, the ghost had the tendency to disappear. Or turn invisible. Whatever ghosts did when they didn’t want to be seen!

His dad raised an eyebrow, before asking incredulously, “Inside the house?”

Wilbur shrugged. What was he supposed to say? That a ghost child liked to prank him and decided it’d be a good idea to dump water on him? He’d sound crazy! Or, crazier than usual.

“Are you alright? Genuinely, Wil. I know you were pretty stressed those first couple nights, but it’s been a bit and I thought you were adjusting well. Should I call your school and say you need some time off?”

Wilbur didn’t need time. What he needed was to get back at that stupid child for absolutely soaking him. 

“I’m fine dad. I don’t need any time off, promise. Although I wouldn’t object to a shower right now? A warm one. I’m fucking freezing!” He says lightheartedly.

Phil chuckles, eyes still filled with soft concern, but he chooses to forego the matter for now. Wilbur was fine.

”And tell Techno not to mess with the water again! We don’t need any repeats!”

Techno’s monotone voice called back, louder than usual so it could be heard from the first floor.

”That mess was entirely you. You’re the one who triggered the sprinklers by bringing a waffle iron into the bathroom and plugging it in. What’d you expect to happen?”

That was…unfortunately fair. Seems like Tech had him on this one. Unless…

”At least I’m not the one who left their hairdryer on! Who leaves it on when they’re not there? Were you trying to set something on fire?”

”Wilbur it was a freaking waffle iron!”

Phil groaned and left, probably to get some coffee since it was far too early to be listening to their shit.

“I’m bored.”

Wilbur blinked, rubbing his eyes and turning to face the ghost plucking haphazardly at his guitar strings. 

Tommy was pouting, eyes glaring sorrowfully at the instrument as if it’d personally offended him. 

“And what am I supposed to do?”

Tommy scowled. “Unbore me! If you’re so fucking ‘entertaining’, then do something!”

Wilbur racked his mind for something he could do, something quiet that wouldn’t wake up the rest of the household. 

It was currently after midnight, and he’d been finishing up some homework that was due first thing tomorrow. Or today. That morning, really.

He debated strumming a bit on his guitar, but that might be too loud. However, his singing wasn’t that loud. Perhaps he could sing the ghost a quiet song?

”Are there any songs you liked listening to? Like when you were still alive? Maybe something quiet?”

Tommy scowled again. “You know I don’t remember much of anything. Most stuff is too fuzzy, or it makes my head hurt when I try to remember. If you’re gonna play something, at least make it sound cool.”

Wilbur shrugged. He’d kinda expected that answer, but it was still disappointing. And sad.

”Well, you might not know this yet, but I’ve actually been working on a couple songs! They’re uh, not quite finished yet, and my voice isn’t too warmed up right now, but I was thinking…that maybe you would want to listen? I’d appreciate a second opinion.”

The ghost’s face brightened, though they tried not to show it. “You’ve written music? That’s so pogchamp! You’ve gotta show it to me now!”

Wilbur chuckled, clearing his throat in preparation. 

In all honestly, it’s been a while since he’d thought about his currently in-progress songs. 

He’d written them way back when, during the time of his life that wasn’t that…happy. He’d been feeling rock bottom at the time, and tried venting through song lyrics. 

He never really finished them, mainly because they were too personal and painful to complete, but it’s been a while. He must be past it by now.

”Now uh, mind you, it’s been quite a while since I’ve played these. I dabble of course sometimes, but those aren’t as fleshed out as these ones are. They’re also much slower and…emotional. So don’t make fun of them, alright? I’m placing trust in you Tommy.”

Tommy’s excited expression smoothed out, being replaced by one of seriousness. As serious as a child could get, that is. He nodded, curls falling over his eyes a bit.

“I won’t make fun. Promise,” he says with a small grin. Wilbur returned it, moving to dig through some of his boxes that still hadn’t been unpacked. 

He finally found what he was looking for in a box labeled, ‘Random Junk’.

It was a yellow binder with bold, scratched out sharpie text printed onto the front. He flipped through it, trying to find one a bit more appropriate for the young child before him. 

He found himself sweating slightly and silently gulping on nothing as his eyes skimmed the word-filled pages. 

This had been him. This had been him, back when he hadn’t had the slightest idea of what to do with himself. That rough point everyone had in their life. These lyrics were his past self’s soul, poured into hastily written words and cramped sentences in the hopes of finding some comfort, of spilling his guts to no one. 

He knew if his brother or dad saw these, they’d be worried. 

But it’s alright, because that wouldn’t be happening. All he’s gonna do is sing a little bit to Tommy. His friend—hell, practically his younger brother at this point. He sure is annoying enough.

Curious eyes peered over his shoulder, squinting at the words but finding they couldn’t make out much in the chaotic scribbles. 

He cleared his throat once more, breathing in, out, in, out.

And he began to sing. 

Nothing too monumental, seeing as he messed around in band quite a lot at school with some of his friends, and often sang to accompany them. He’s also been told he’s prone to humming when he’s either nervous or focused, as well as randomly bursting into musical monologues.

But the tune he was singing, the words being sang in a fairly upbeat tone, voice cracks and curses mixing in between when he messed up a word was what made it different. 

Yet Tommy just stared transfixed as he sings about the times he was so incredibly paranoid for seemingly no reason, so scared to do fucking anything that he’d refused to leave the house at all during that time.

He always had that lingering feeling of wrongness, but it had been at its height back when he wrote this. 

Somehow, Tommy seemed to understand what the song was trying to convey, his face twisting into one full of sympathy, like he understood what it was like to live in fear. To feel like at any given moment, something bad would happen, and he’d die.

It’s kinda ironic, he thinks, seeing as Tommy is literally a ghost. He is dead, has seen death, yet came back in the form of one incredibly, irritating, endearing gremlin. 

And that fact let him continue the song, it gave him strength to keep singing, to keep his tone level, and to smile even as he spilled his worries into the world.

And when he finished, Tommy gave him a grin, a quiet round of applause, and to his chilled surprise, a quick hug. It was short, extremely cold, but sweet. 

And even as he laid in bed feeling phantom tears and remnants of past anxieties, he found himself drifting asleep, thinking of this new fixture—this new ball of light, in his life. 

After that night, Wilbur found himself revisiting that old binder, taking out the pieces of music and rewriting the lyrics onto clean sheets of paper. 

Tommy would happily sit beside him, content to watch, never judging even though he always looked like he wanted to.

Occasionally he’d glance over and make a comment on how absolutely horrendous his handwriting was, but never more than that.

Techno and Phil seemed to notice that some invisible weight was taken off of Wilbur, seeing him smile just a bit more genuinely with eyes glinting that much brighter. 

He and Tommy grew much closer. Tommy still pranked Wilbur, and Wilbur still cursed him out as quietly as possible during the times he knew his family was spread out around the house. 

Sometime during that time, Tommy also seemed to get closer to Techno, surprisingly. 

But it wasn’t in the way Wilbur thought. When Tommy first told him that he’d ‘interacted’ with his brother, he had a minor freak out. 

Turns out, it wasn’t so much of an interaction as it was watching invisibly as his brother played Minecraft. Like a nerd. 

Tommy didn’t seem to think that way though.

”Your brother’s so cool! D’you think when I meet him he’ll teach me how to play? And then we can both pvp each other and I can show him how amazing I am at everything! And- d’you think he’d let me braid his hair? It’s really soft-looking, and it makes swishy sounds when he brushes it-”

”Are you fucking stalking my brother?” Wilbur asks, amused. 

“What?! No!” Tommy squawks. “I’m just admiring Techno’s many talents! I saw him gardening one day, y’know, in that small patch of dirt out in the yard? A few days later, I saw something growing! I’ve never been able to make plants grow, ‘cause they always die.”

Wilbur rolled his eyes. “That’s nice Tommy. Gods, you’re such a little fanboy. Is wittle baby Tommy fanboying over my nerd of a brother? Do you secretly have a wittle obsession over him? You wanna ask him questions and pester him over everything?” Wilbur teases.

Tommy flushes in embarrassment. “N-no! Of course not! I’m- I don’t-”

He disappears into nothing, a frustrated groan the only thing left behind. 

Wilbur chuckles, even as a small pit began to form. It’d be great for the kid to talk to more people, but did he want that? Was he scared that Tommy would move on from him? Abandon him so he could hang out with Techno instead?

No. No, of course not. Silly Wilbur, being silly and- uh, silly. Yeah. He had nothing to worry about, least of all Techno.

Like all bad things that happen, it’s always started by something.

In this case, it was Tommy’s increased boredom. Not to say Wilbur didn’t do a great job making him smile and laugh and fill the ever decreasing silence, but Tommy was bored.

The pranks got repetitive after a while. There were only so many times he could fill Wilbur’s conditioner with bleach and hear the screeches about how his hair was white. Wilbur started anticipating things, so much so that it was hard to do small pranks now.

Tommy had to actually put in the effort to move stuff if he wanted to hear Wilbur curse and shriek. Which was fun, but made him tired afterward.

So he got a little more reckless. He took to disappearing slower, leaving more distortions in the air. He grew a little louder than normal, letting his yells echo more in the lofty house. 

He remembered a movie about ghosts that Wilbur had shown him a while ago, and tried doing things that would be expected of him as a ghost. 

Like stealing things. And making the lights flicker. And turning the water on at night so someone had to get up and turn it off. Things like that.

Anyways, he’d been on one of his nightly ventures, Wilbur having already fallen asleep like the old man he was. Tommy didn’t care that he had a super important test the next day. Maybe if Wil just got good, he wouldn’t have fallen asleep so early.

As he was saying, nightly ventures. That meaning making himself a nuisance to the general populace. 

What he hadn’t planned for was someone coming downstairs while he was snooping around in the kitchen for something to mess with.

Which is how he finally, finally, got caught by someone other than Wilbur while he rummaged through the pantry. That someone being Techno. Like, the Techno. The guy he idolized and did not fanboy over even though he didn’t even know what it meant- He could guess, at the very least.

The teen had seemingly been getting water, seeing as they already had a cup in hand, but froze upon hearing him. 

Now, usually Tommy was much more careful in being quiet since he wasn’t really ready to around more people. But he was so tired of being quiet. 

It didn’t help that Techno was almost unnaturally quiet. His footsteps were barely heard despite the creaky floorboards and stairs. Truly, a superior species.

”Who the hell are you?” Techno asks, looking confused and vaguely alarmed.

Tommy looked at Techno. And then he looked at the candy he’d found. And then he looked back at Techno. And then he looked at the candy again. 

Sigh. Some things were more important. 

“See’ya, bitch!” And then he disappeared with his candy, leaving behind small distortions in the air, rather reminiscent of his first meetings with Wilbur. 

Techno blinked, rubbing his eyes and looking at the empty space. Then he looked at his cup, staring suspiciously at it before shrugging. He was probably dreaming anyways.

Distantly, he heard a high-pitched shriek coming from Wilbur’s room, but he decided not to question it. If he wanted to fail the geography test, Techno wouldn’t stop him. 

For now, he’d be getting his water and going to bed, leaving tonight’s thoughts for another day.

“You what?”

”I accidentally revealed myself to your brother and then left?”

Wilbur groaned. “If I get fucking gray hairs at 16, it’s your fault.”

Tommy shrugged. Not his problem. Besides, he got what he wanted.