Chapter Text
“This is it boys!” Tommy exclaimed as they looked at the shabby house in front of them. “Tonight we become men.”
Tommy, Tubbo, and Ranboo watched as a man holding a large pack of Coors Lite opened the front door, allowing the loud music to reach their ears.
“I don’t think drinking cheap beer will make us men,” Ranboo said, casting a doubting look to the blonde next to him. Tubbo scrunched his nose at the thought of drinking beer. He always thought it was dumb when people said he’d “get used to the taste”. If it was a taste you had to get used to then you probably shouldn’t be drinking it in the first place. He jumped slightly as Tommy grabbed his wrist. He saw him do the same to Ranboo, and knew there was no backing out of this. He would’ve tried to talk his way out but he knew that had no hope of working with Tommy, stubborn as he was.
“Ranboo,” Tommy started as he slowly dragged them to the front door, “I’m pretty sure they check vibes at the door so you better get yours sorted before we go in.”
As they stepped up on the porch Tubbo butted in. “If they’re checking vibes you’re sure to get kicked out Tommy,” he said, causing Ranboo to let out a small chuckle. Instead of responding, Tommy simply opened the door and shoved them both inside.
Inside the house the music was obnoxiously loud and Tubbo could feel the four-on-the-floor drumbeat in his chest. Everyone in the room was moving, either dancing or simply swaying to the beat. If he was being honest it looked quite fun. He didn’t have the courage to join in just yet, but he knew where to find some.
“Look guys,” Tubbo called out as he saw his two friends approach, “Alcohol!”
Tommy rolled his eyes as he made his way over to Tubbo’s side.
“Are you trying to let everyone here know that we’re not drinking age!?” Tommy attempted to whisper to his friend, though Tubbo was sure that anyone else in the room would have heard him say it with how loud he was. He didn’t think the dude currently standing in the corner was likely to snitch and, as Tubbo looked over at him to check, noticed that the boy seemed to look around his own age anyways.
Ranboo turned to Tubbo.”How’d you manage to already find a drink?”
“There was a punch bowl in the backyard by the pool so I just took some,” Tubbo explained, swirling the drink like some sort of wine connoisseur. He’d seen people do that in movies somewhere so he figured he should do it as well. He had also regularly seen people down an entire glass.
After looking at the drink a moment longer, he brought the drink to his lips and in less than a second chugged half of it. He scrunched his face at the bitter taste that the fruit flavoring did nothing to hide and coughed as the burn hit his throat.
“Jesus Christ Tubbo!” Tommy exclaimed. “Didn’t know you had that in you.”
Tubbo shrugged while he continued his hacking and turned to the person he had just noticed approaching the group. It was the guy from the corner, who now seemed to be bored of the trio and their shenanigans. He stepped closer and Tubbo noticed his eyes, a deep purple reminiscent of grape Kool-Aid, making Tubbo wish he had a glass of that to wash down the gross drink.
As he walked past their group he paused a moment, looking at the cup in Tubbo’s hands, then up at the boy himself.
“That’s laced by the way.” The trio stood still in shock for a moment before erupting into chaos.
“What the fuck does that mean?!”
“Did I just drink poison?”
“Laced with what?”
They turned back to the boy with purple eyes only to realize that he had walked off amidst their panicked shouting. Tubbo stared down at the drink, trying to see if there was anything particularly suspicious about it, though he didn’t really know what he was looking for. He knew that there were only two things that could’ve been in that drink and since he didn’t feel like he was going to pass out, he knew it wasn’t a roofie.
“Tubbo, I think you just drank a potion,” Ranboo said shakily, having reached the same conclusion. Potions were illegal, like all magic, but that didn’t stop people from making and selling them. He had heard of people drinking them at parties but seeing as they were a rare commodity he didn’t think someone would waste one to spike the punch at a party.
“I don’t feel like I drank a potion," Tubbo replied simply, still staring at the cup in disbelief.
“And how the fuck would you know what drinking a potion feels like?” Tommy challenged as he paced back and forth. Tubbo could practically see the cogs in his brain turning, already working to find a solution.
“Well,” Tubbo started, “isn’t there supposed to be some kind of floaty, buzzing feeling?” He recalled the day when a tweaker they had met on the sidewalk described the feeling of potions to the three of them completely unprompted and, in Tubbo’s opinion, unwelcomed. That encounter had entirely convinced the trio that magic was not something they wanted to get into.
Tubbo’s thoughts were pulled from the memory as he felt a sharp pain pierce through his skull. Everything was suddenly too loud, too bright, too much. He could distantly feel his body curling in on itself trying to protect him. He remembered Tommy and Ranboo were with him when he felt their hands on his arms, guiding him somewhere he couldn’t see. He trusted them to take him somewhere safe, and even if he didn’t he wasn’t really in a position to argue.
He felt the cool night breeze hit his face which provided him with minute relief and let him know they were outside of the bustling house. In his delirium, he felt that this situation would be handled much better if he were on the floor, so he dropped out of his friend’s grasp and onto his hands and knees, barely managing to make sure he didn’t completely faceplant on the lawn. The earth and steady position allowed the fog to clear from his mind a bit, finally able to understand what Tommy had been saying to him.
"-g man, speak to us. What's going on?" Tommy asked in a gentle tone, and Tubbo could distantly feel Ranboo rubbing soothing circles on his back. Tubbo took deep controlled breaths, trying to gain enough composure to speak.
Tubbo opened his mouth to respond, only to suddenly feel a wave of bile rush up his throat as he vomited onto the ground in front of him. There were various shouts from the other two boys as they both leapt out of the splash-zone.
“Holy shit Tubbs, your vomit is all sparkly- wait fuck, is that dark shit blood!?”Tommy shouted as Ranboo gagged, trying to not add to the vomit puddle. All three of them were now in various states of disarray, the sound of Tubbo's dry heaving being met with Tommy's loud cursing and Ranboo’s controlled breaths.
In the midst of the chaos, the trio failed to notice the figure that was approaching them until he spoke.
“What the hell did you take!?”
Tubbo's heaving calmed enough to look up to see a man with curly brown hair carelessly flopped over deep blue eyes that slightly glowed in the darkness. Tubbo didn't try to answer him, still focused on his breathing. Ranboo spoke up, "A potion. W- Well punch spiked with a potion but yeah...”
The man narrowed his piercing eyes, before sighing and pulling out his phone, and scrolling through the contents. “I know a guy who can brew an antidote but one of you needs to grab some of the vomit for a sample,” he stated matter-of-factly.
Just as Tubbo was about to argue the excellent case of why the one who is sick shouldn’t have to collect their own puke, another wave of pain had him grabbing his head, eyes squeezing shut. This wave, thankfully, was brief and as it passed he heard Tommy and Ranboo arguing.
“Ranb-”
“You must’ve drank something too if you think I’m collecting vomit,” Ranboo interrupted, giving the blonde no room for argument. Tubbo kept his eyes shut as who he could only assume was Tommy walked over and crouched next to him. “The things I do for you,” Tommy muttered under his breath. Tubbo could only respond with a small but smug hum, still too nauseous to talk.
“Who are you and why are you helping us?” he heard Ranboo say. He’s thankful that he could trust Ranboo to be wary and smart about this. Either the man was conning them, or he did actually know someone who can brew potions and antidotes. Both scenarios would make him an extremely shady—and potentially dangerous—person.
“My name’s Wilbur and I know magic, so I know that the reaction your friend is having to a low-grade party potion is not normal,” the man—Wilbur—sounded like he wasn’t phased at all by the interrogation.
“That doesn’t explain why you’re helping.”
“Sue me if I don’t want to see a fourteen-year-old OD,” Wilbur snarked.
Okay, fuck this guy. Tubbo waved his arm around until he managed to slap Tommy, then flipped the finger around where he remembered Wilbur being.
“He’s seventeen dickhead,” Tommy explained, then dropped his voice to a murmur to address Tubbo. “There, you happy?”
"Whatever, seventeen. Either way, I'm not letting some kid get sick or die," Wilbur huffed. At that Tubbo’s eyes shot open and flicked between Tommy’s and Ranboo’s. Tubbo immediately closed his eyes again, the dim light of the streetlamp still being too much for him. He blindly reached for Tommy’s hand, which quickly found his own. He felt Tommy give his hand a squeeze and gave a thankful one back. He listened as Ranboo replied to Wilbur.
"Okay."
"Okay?"
"Yeah," Ranboo muttered, sounding less confident than he did earlier.
"Well if that's the case grab your friend and come on," Wilbur said, voice fading as he started to walk away. "You lot can introduce yourselves on the way over."
Tommy wasn’t sure how to feel about Wilbur. On one hand, he was a shady stranger they had met at a college party. On the other hand, he had really good taste in music. He was currently sitting in Wilbur’s passenger seat tapping his foot along to the beat of an upbeat acoustic song that played over the shitty speakers. The tapping may have also been due to nerves, the weight of what had just happened settling on his shoulders. He glanced up at the rearview mirror to check on his friends. Tubbo sat behind Wilbur, hunched over with his jacket hanging over his head, likely to block any bright lights. Ranboo was pressed against his side stealing the occasional glance at their sick friend.
“So how about those introductions?” Wilbur asked as they hit a red light. He turned his head to look at Tommy, their gazes meeting. Tommy narrowed his eyes briefly before answering.
“Friends call me T-bomb, those two are Randall and Tuberculosis,” he said with a wide smile. Wilbur gave a small huff, rolling his eyes as he focused back on the road.
“Wanna try that again?”
Tommy gave the man an unimpressed look. He of course knew that those were terrible names, but he was still upset that Wilbur had called him on it. He twisted around in his seat to look at Ranboo, who gave a small nod. Tommy turned back around with a dramatic sigh.
“Fine, whatever, you caught me.” Tommy pointed at each member of their trio in succession. “I’m Tommy, he’s Ranboo, and he’s Tuberculosis.”
Wilbur said nothing in response, instead giving him the side-eye, clearly not believing the last name.
“No, I swear, his real name is actually Tuberculosis!”
At that, a groan sounded from the backseat followed by the thump of Tubbo hitting the back of Wilbur’s seat. Tommy turned to see Ranboo gently smack Tubbo, before chiming in. “He prefers to go by Tubbo.”
“You’re joking right?” Wilbur asked incredulously. Tubbo let out another groan as Tommy started giggling. He always loved introducing his brother to new people, much to the other boy’s chagrin. Tommy watched Wilbur’s face carefully wanting to gauge his reaction. Tommy was always allowed to make fun of Tubbo but this asshole surely wasn’t.
Wilbur let out a chuckle. “Oh you poor kid. First you get stuck with the name Tuberculosis then you get your punch spiked.” Tubbo didn’t attempt to say anything, instead he reached in between the front seats without looking, and felt around until he found Tommy’s arm giving it a hard smack. Tommy let out a small yelp and scooted away from the hand, still smothering giggles.
They all returned to silence letting the music play. Tommy was going to have to ask Wilbur to share his playlist after all of this. Though he didn’t really know what ‘all of this’ was. How long was it going to take to make a cure? Would it hurt? And there was no way they could afford the antidote, what were they going to do when asked for payment? He turned to Wilbur to voice his concerns, however Wilbur interrupted him before he could speak.
“Don’t ask me questions about stuff. I don’t know and even if I do know, he’ll be able to answer better than I can.” Wilbur said shortly.
Tommy wanted to curse the man out but instead, he made the mature decision to stick his tongue out and blow a raspberry at him. He smirked when Wilbur gave him a withering look, satisfied with the reaction he was able to elicit. He then turned to the window, settling in for a long and silent ride.