Chapter Text
Tommy thinks he was around 11 when he learned the word camisado.
It seemed like it was an older word, with pretty ribbons of mystery hanging off of the letters, so Tommy had been fascinated with its sound of urgency and importance every time his brother mentioned it. He had first noticed it as a one of the words in his brother’s vocabulary list. It stuck out to him like a red bead in a pile of blue, so naturally, he asked Techno what it meant.
“It’s a surprise of sorts, an unexpected attack at daybreak upon people during war. You’ll understand when you’re older, Tommy.”
The older had explained to an entranced Tommy, who huffed with an angry pout on his face insisting that he was old enough to understand. Technoblade had only chuckled, gathering his notes with a final laugh as Tommy stomped his foot insistently. He vaguely remembers later on how he asked Wilbur, his other brother, what a camisado had been. Wilbur only shook his head, saying something about Techno and his nerd things, then asking if he’d like to visit the playground. Of course, he excitedly nodded his head yes. Hours later, he met Tubbo, an excited young boy with mismatched socks, a crooked grin, and a missing tooth.
Fast forward ten years, which actually reminds Tommy that his sixteen year old self is supposed to be meeting up with a sixteen year old Tubbo later today. His eyes are no longer a bright blue with little specks of mischief, now a dulled gray lined with exhaustion and dragged down by heavy eye bags.
His hair is a mess of unbrushed curls, most of it blond while others are laced with an alabaster white, and occasionally the sight of a vibrant wisp of red would reappear. He smiles at the memory of hair dye and shouts of “hold still”, and, “you‘re getting it all over the counter, stop moving you idiot”,or “we can’t just change to red halfway through... what’d you mean why not?!”. The strands reach the bottom of his neck now, curling over some of his face and blocking his eyes from time to time. As for his siblings?
They’re long gone by now.
Tommy couldn’t blame them, of course. Their home was nothing but a harbor for bad memories and miserable fears of the future corrupted by the past, so Tommy completely understood why. Both had accepted scholarships for universities all the way in America five years ago, Techno for a promised career in fencing and Wilbur one for music.
They had been overjoyed, packing their bags days after receiving the letter that would cut the ties connecting the twins and their beloved little sibling. Tommy would always remember the way they barely turned around when the announcement for their plane, so eager to leave this place.
Tommy would never forget the searing sting akin to salt in a newly formed wound of how it seemed they boasted they could spread their wings and fly, but Tommy had yet to depart. Every time he thought of it, he felt like he was seven years old arguing over sweets before dinner, demandingly yelling that it just wasn’t fair. He chuckled at the comparison, a noise that sounded so foreign to his own ears that he nearly dropped his spoon into his strangely full bowl of soggy cereal.
His eyes aren't closed anymore, and his mind is now back in the present. The boy breathes out in relief when he realizes its a Sunday instead of a fucking Monday, which it kinda feels like actually. His mind begins working again as he finished his breakfast and checks the time on his phone. The scratching of the moving chair as he gets up is the only sound in the living room when he places his bowl in the sink and swiftly jogs out of the kitchen. His coat sits by the door, and his hand grabs it as the other swings the door open. Before he exits, Tommy hesitates before quietly muttering,
"Bye, dad."
With that, he leaves the house, barely aware of the emptiness that suffocated it. And Tommy didn’t look back, not until he arrived at the park, where he heard his name being called energetically. He perked up, the wisp of a smile gracing the bottom half of his facial features.
"TOMMY!"
Tommy lets out a proud cackle as Tubbo runs over with his hand up in an inviting high five. The boy slaps the hand with excitement, yelling Tubbo's name back with equal eagerness.
Tommy had met Tubbo forever ago when he had pushed over one of the assholes making fun of Tubbo's height at a playground near their home. They had been and stayed best friends ever since, Ranboo, his adoptive sister Crumb, and local menace Purpled joining their little duo not too soon after. Speaking of, all three were there laughing at Tubbos welcoming reaction.
Ranboo was the tallest of the group, but that didn’t make him any less awkward. Tommy had absolutely despised the teenager when they had first met, immediately attacking him with childish insults and filthy swears as Tubbo introduced him as his best friend (to this day, Tommy is still unaware if that was a joke or not). Though Tommy’s insults had been far from kind, Ranboo retaliated with nothing but understanding patience, only ever smiling awkwardly or nodding with disturbed confusion. He was a good person, Tommy now knows, with a strange humor and a love for video games. When they had repaired the strained string keeping them together, the teenager immediately apologized for his previous actions. Ranboo forgave him quickly, and was never a vengeful or hateful person after how Tommy had treated him.
(and Tommy will never mention how Ranboo had once found him sobbing behind the school, shouting empty threats that Ranboo simply ignored, instead choosing to sit besides him and allowing him to cry)
Crumb was not far from her brother in sympathy, but the two couldn’t have been more different. Where Ranboo was silent and rendered speechless, Crumb refused to stay quiet and instead shouted her words from the rooftops. Her love of art accompanied her wherever she went, in the lunches she made for her and her sibling, in the sketchbook practically attached to her side, even the box she wore on her head that was decorated with colorful paint. Tommy had met Crumb when Ranboo introduced her during lunch after fourth period one day. He immediately took a liking to her when she offered part of her lunch after noticing that the blonde had forgotten his. Her stubborn observance, intelligent thinking, and selfless heart made her one of the best people Tommy knew to this day.
(He could never forget the girl who had shown him kindness when nobody else would, or how she quickly figured out he was struggling and asked if he was okay from time to time. Crumb was the only one who knew of his family’s negligence, and vowed with him that they would leave this awful, awful place one day no matter what)
Purpled was... definitely a character to be friends with. Sarcastic remarks and adventurous hobbies marked him as a more unusual kid than others. He disappeared from time to time, never revealing where he went or why, calling it personal information that was from the FBI, and Tommy didn’t actually know if it was a joke or not anymore. He had sat down at their table one day during school, not even sparing a glance at the confused groups. Ever since then, he’s been hanging out with them nearly every day after school, even when Ranboo asks him if he even goes here, but Tommy’s never heard him answer. He had yet to have a personal experience with the purple-hoodied teen, but he did trust him somewhat since he seemed to have been liked by both Tubbo and Crumb.
”Tommy, you coming? We’re headed for the bakery downtown, the one Skeppy works at?”
Tubbo cocked his head to the side, motioning for the teen to catch up impatiently. Tommy laughed, quickly jogging towards where his friends were discussing ice cream flavors, video games, useless quizzes in the upcoming school week, how their day had been, comic books, music bands, and more. He was nothing but content to live in this delicate bubble of carelessness and ignorance that most teenagers live in during this stage of their lives.
But Thomas Theseus Minecraft was not like other teenagers in this stage of their lives
So yes, he would temporarily exist in this bubble, but he was ready for when it popped, leaving him as lonely and pathetic as he was before.
///
Monday was not in Tommy’s favor, he realized quickly when he woke up late and disheveled to the ringing of his alarm clock. His stomach hisses with disappointment when he skips breakfast, instead opting for shoving his World History homework in his backpack quickly, his Physics and Geometry homework shortly following in the form of crumpled papers and bent notebooks. He grimaces when he glances at the plastic clock hanging on the dusty shelf in their vacant kitchen, but Tommy quickly grabs dirty shoes and an unwashed coat before heading into what he would later describe as the turning point of his entire life, but for now...remember that bubble we talked about earlier?
"You're late again, Thomas.”
He winces when he hears a strict voice behind him as he approaches the school's large wooden doors, already imagining the matching scowl on his principal's face.
Logstedshire East High School was what Tommy thought of when someone said home, as stuck up and fucking weird to say as it sounded, but how could he not when the people who stood as his parental figures had been there? Mr. Sam, and Ms. Puffy, and Mr. Bad had been there for Tommy since his first year of high school when he had shown up with tears in his eyes after Phil had forgotten his birthday and he had gotten a scolding for trying to tell him. Each of them had it specially marked on their calendars since then and treated it as if it was the second coming of Christmas, always making up something special every year for the past two years.
"Ah, sorry Princey! Got caught in sleep, y'know, the land of slumber, hmm? Mr. Sam taught me that one, so it's his fault!"
He laughs, the principal barely managing to hide his exasperated smile as the blonde slyly makes his way towards his English Literature class. Tommy quietly creaks the door open, scowling at the squeaky noises the rusty hinges echo with frustration. He feels everyone's eyes on him when he walks in the room, giving Mr. Sam a sheepish smile when the teacher points a scrutinizing look his way before returning to his lesson on Philosophical Fiction. His face is an uneasy red from embarrassment when he sits down at his seat next to Tubbo, who smacks his right arm with an enclosed fist angrily.
"Oi, that hurt you bitch! What the hell, man?" Tommy shout-whispers, rubbing his arm with a glare on his face.
Tubbo only rolls his eyes, "That's for ditching me, you fuckwit. I delivered that because you're an idiot, obviously.".
Tommy doesn't miss how Tubbo's voice quivers with worry, or how his eyes light up with relief from Tommy's familiar language. He snorts,
"Well, return to sender, please."
The bell rings with a wild chime, dismissing most students from the classroom. Tommy finishes his messy notes with a sigh, clicking the pen once before closing his notebook shut. He sees Tubbo picking his nails while waiting for him, and he begins walking towards the boy, preparing to scare him before he is stopped by Mr. Sam himself.
"Oh, Tommy! D'you mind staying for a bit before going to your next class? You have Physics next, I'm sure Ms. Hannah won't mind if you hand her a note from me. I wanted to ask you about something."
Tommy visibly gulps when he hears the words, immediately turning to Tubbo who nods hesitantly, and pats his best friend on the shoulder reassuringly before running off to his next class.
"Calm down, Tommy, you're not in trouble. Nothing to be in trouble for, I hope?" Mr. Sam raises an eyebrow when Tommy shrugs his shoulders innocently.
"Maybe, maybe not, Mr. Sam! But, what'd you need me for?" The teenager rocks back and forth on his heels, clicking his tongue nervously when Sam stays silent.
"Well, you're not in trouble Tommy, don't worry about that. I can see you're nervous, calm down," Tommy visibly relaxes after he pauses, " But I'd like to ask you about something. I've seen your writing in our last few assignments. It's unlike anything I've seen in a very long time, and I'd like you to consider joining our newly formed writer's club. Not many people will be there if you're afraid of people seeing your writing, but here- if you're considering it, take this notebook. It's a starting point for you of sorts, and Ms. Puffy and I would be the leaders of it if that helps."
Tommy carefully takes the notebook his teacher hands to him, admiring it's vibrant red cover and traces the blocky patterns carved into it with his fingers.
"Uh- I don't know Sa- Mr. Sam, it seems like a bunch of work, but... I'll consider it, I swear."
Tommy decides on a reasonable answer, cringing when his teacher seems to deflate at his words but nods understandingly.
"I get it, Tommy, I really do. High School is a busy period of your life, but if you have time, I'd like you to at least try it alright? Here's your note, tell Ms. Hannah I said hi!"
Tommy carefully places the notebook between a mass of papers and his binder, before heading off into his second period class, blissfully unaware of the events to follow.