Chapter Text
‘How’s your day been, Tommy?’ Phil asks, knowing that the boy usually dislikes the breaking of the fourth wall, but everyone else had been chatting away. It was late for the boy to be on, he’d not told any of them he was going to be streaming so late. Despite that, a quick glance at his second monitor confirmed that Tommy’s viewings were at a high of 90k. He made a note to congratulate him after.
‘Good thanks, Mr Minecraft. Had my first therapy sesh.’
While Phil falters, Tubbo does not.
‘Poggers, dude. How did it go?’
He hadn’t been aware that Tommy was going to therapy. A discord message pinged, from Wilbur, asking if he’d known about this, so he concluded that the musician was also in the dark. Strange, but he could gloss over that.
‘Sick, I got a free lollypop.’ Tommy told him, returning to his chaotic energy of running around the Pube.
‘I want a lollypop.’ Tubbo grumbled, Phil’s character looking out of the window of his home just in time to see the bee-boy begin to ascend towards the Pube, in search of Tommy.
‘Sorry, Tobs, only Big Men can go to therapy.’ Tommy teased, and Phil checked the boy’s twitch.
Over 100k viewers. News was spreading quickly, according to the screenshot that Wilbur sent him of twitter. They were going wild, but Tommy remained oblivious.
‘How’s house-hunting going?’ Tubbo randomly asks into the silence, and Tommy audibly sighs.
‘I think I’ve got some ideas, I’ll send them over to you? We still down for me moving on my birthday?’
This was the first Phil was hearing of these plans. He could see Wilbur’s bubble frantically typing, unsure of what to say on call, considering the number of people that were listening in.
‘Course, boss man. You can come stay earlier, if you want, my Mum says your practically family.’
Tommy’s character falters, and falls from the Pube. Luckily, he’s got slow-falling, so it’s not instant death. Still, his faltering is picked up on both by his own chat, and Philza’s.
The man watches the messages filtering through, asking if Tommy’s home-life is okay at the moment.
Phil ignores it.
They play for a while, till Tommy’s usually loud, boisterous attitude is faded into yawns and mumbled replies. It becomes obvious to all those on the call that he’s exhausted, yet is refusing to give up, for some reason.
‘Mate, you should be going to bed.’ Phil lightly tells the boy, listening to Tommy stifle another yawn.
‘Yeah, guess you’re right.’
The others in call tell him to get some sleep, and Tommy promises to be back tomorrow.
‘Make sure you rest up, Tommy.’ Phil reminds, knowing the likelihood is that Tommy will start scrolling through Tiktok or some other platform, rather than heading to bed.
‘Got it, dad.’ Tommy says, before the call disconnects, and Tommy’s ending his stream.
Phil’s gone quiet.
His chat is going wild, messages flooding through so quickly he can’t hear, and a hype train starts.
He’s still sitting here, staring at his screen.
‘Uh, so we’re going to gloss over that, right?’ Sneeg, who had been present for the entire call, asks.
Tubbo’s gone strangely quiet as well, before excusing himself, his discord icon leaving the call. It leaves Phil to watch Wilbur, who’s been messaging him this entire time.
‘Move on, chat.’ He tells his viewers, silently praying that Sneeg gets the hint.
They do, but Phil knows it’ll be all over twitter by the time that Tommy wakes up. He’s going to have to talk to the boy, at some point. Once he’s gotten over his own shock.
**
Tommy’s sitting there, in front of his therapist, ignoring the part of his mind that wants him to get up and leave.
They’re discussing yesterday’s stream.
‘Do you see Phil as a father figure?’ The nice lady asks, keeping her tone calm as she writes something down.
This idea, the therapy, had been one of Toby’s Mum’s ideas. He loved the woman like she was his own Mum, or perhaps even more. She’d helped him search for one, before they’d booked a couple of introductory sessions. Linda, that was her name, the woman sitting opposite him and asking about what had led him to call Phil dad.
It was embarrassing. It was all over twitter, and his discord and texts were flooded with messages.
‘No.’ He lies easily, chewing on his lower lip.
‘What about Clay? Or Jordan? Or perhaps Wilbur?’
These are all names he gave her, when he talked about his profession. Now that he’s thinking about it, Tommy isn’t lacking in the older-male-role-model department. In fact, he’s got a variety to choose from.
‘They’re just friends.’
That hurts, even more than knowing he called Philza bloody Minecraft dad in front of 100k people.
‘Have you spoken to them about what’s going on at home?’
The thing was, there was nothing going on at home. Nothing, because his parents were never around, and they certainly weren’t paying attention to him. He’d been on his own for a couple of months now, really. Ever since the streaming became his main focus, and they told him they weren’t going to watch him waste his life.
‘No.’
‘What’s stopping you?’ She asks, in a tone that makes Tommy want to tear his hair out.
He doesn’t. Instead, he answers her questions for the rest of the session.
He gets out after dark, heading for the bus to take him back in the direction of home. It’s a quiet time, filled with flicking through messages, replying awkwardly to Dream and telling him he’s seen twitter. Yes, Tubbo, he’s aware that Phil’s been calling. No, Wilbur, he’s not free to facetime right now.
Before he can think better of it, he opens twitter. He types out the post quickly, doing what he does best.
Deflecting.
That awkward throwback to school, when you call your teacher Mum…
For good measure, he throws in a sad face, before posting it. It trends before he can stop it, with a lot of people sympathising. Good, they’ve moved on from the reasoning behind it, and Tommy can get off the bus with a lighter heart.
His home is dark, and cold, and Tommy hates it. He grimaces, locking the door behind him, before moving into the kitchen.
For some reason, it’s too much. He’s been dealing with this for a while, but today just has to be the day that gets him down.
He calls Phil.
The man picks up on the second ring, sounding slightly breathless.
‘Tommy?’
‘Hey, Big Man. Just wanted to apologise for the chaos I caused, yanno?’ He chirps, relaxing into the conversation. This is Phil, and Phil’s always been there for him, ever since he’d met the man.
‘No need to apologise, mate. Everything alright with you?’ His almost-mentor asks, sounding concerned. Tommy’s not sure why, he’s pretty sure he’s doing a good job of hiding just how bad things are getting.
‘Yep. You know me, I’m a Big Man.’
Phil chuckles, and Tommy smiles. Mission success.
‘Also, I just wanted to say I’m proud of you for going to therapy, Tommy. If you ever need to talk…’
‘You’re here. Got it.’ He jokes, cutting off whatever the older man was going to say. Phil confirms it, and they disconnect, Tommy raising his head to look in the mirror.
There’re tears running down his cheeks.