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Phil finally managed to make himself tea after he had allowed Tommy and Tubbo to build a blanket fort in the living room.
First, he had wanted them to go outside and get some fresh air, but they had discussed long enough that it had started raining, and Phil had resigned while the boys whooped in joy.
Tubbo was still a bit hesitant to just take stuff, even though Phil pretty much regarded him as family, given how often the boy was at their house. So Phil had helped them gather all the blankets and cushions they could find, apart from the ones in the bedrooms.
He heard enthusiastic guitar strumming and singing from upstairs (Wilbur really was determined to get accepted into Music Studies), and for a moment he just enjoyed the lively sounds of the two boys shouting while building their fort, and Wilbur making music, stirring his tea. The moment was ruined, however, when Techno rumbled down the stairs, headphones askew on his head.
“Daaad, can you please tell them to be quiet? I can’t concentrate at all!”
Phil chuckled. “Then close your door.”
“I did! Do you have any idea how loud Wilbur’s screeching is upstairs? I closed the door the second he touched the first guitar string! It was somewhat okay with headphones, but now these two scream so loud I can hear them through the headphones! How am I supposed to pass History II now? I will fail high school with these three idiots!”
Phil couldn’t help but laugh at his eldest's dramatic story, setting down the cup of tea as not to spill any. “Ah, c’mon Techno, I’m sure you’ll-”
He was interrupted by the doorbell ringing.
“Is it already that late? He’s never that early”, he wondered as he went towards the door. Techno ran back up the stairs, always weary of unexpected socializing.
Through the blurred glass of the front door Phil saw a spot of lime green, and he opened with a smile on his face.
“Hey Dream! Gotta be honest, I didn’t expect you this early, Tubbo’s still in the-”
He stopped when he took in Tubbo’s older brother. He looked absolutely exhausted. He had always been rather scrawny for his age, but today his face looked even more sunken in than usual. His clothes and hair were wet from the rain, but what stood out the most, was the angry red bruise on the side of his jaw.
“Ehm, can I - uhm - come in quickly, with the rain and … yeah …”, he trailed off.
Phil shook himself to gain his composure, offering the kid an albeit forced smile. “Yeah yeah, sure, come in.”
He stepped back, opening the door wider to allow Dream to step inside. The boy slipped off his more than worn sneakers, self-consciously curling his feet to hide the hole in his left sock.
Phil pretended not to notice, leading the boy into the kitchen.
And that was how one of the weirdest and most awkward evenings he ever had started.
Now, Dream lay on the couch in the living room, lightly snoring underneath a woolen blanket.
The two younger boys slept in Tommy’s room, and the twins in their respective rooms. At least he hoped they finally slept, they both enjoyed video games a bit too much and especially too late in the night for Phil’s liking. But as long as their grades or social life didn’t suffer, Phil could tolerate it.
With a small groan, Phil leaned on the kitchen counter, rubbing his eyes as he let the evening pass in his head once more.
He had made some awkward smalltalk with Dream in the foyer, quickly noticing the absentmindedness of the boy, how his gaze jumped around the room and how he stepped from one foot from the next. Phil hesitantly offered him some ice for his jaw, and after a quick alarmed gaze in his direction that subsided into careful neutralness, Dream nodded.
Phil led him to the kitchen and motioned for him to sit, noting the relief flashing over Dream’s face as he sat down on a kitchen chair. He brought the boy an ice pack, deliberately not asking about the bruise.
He had some … suspicions about what went on at their household. While he certainly didn’t mind Tubbo practically living with them, it wasn’t normal that he slept over pretty much every weekend, spending most afternoons with Tommy.
Sometimes Dream just brought him over in a rush, barely dropping him off at the door before he left again. Phil had also never met their father himself, only catching glimpses of him briefly once at school.
He had been fetching his boys, Wilbur later telling him Schlatt had been called to the principal because Dream had gotten into a fight, though Techno had grumbled something along the lines of “if Dream hadn’t decked him, I would have”, though he refused to elaborate.
And any attempt on his side to meet Schlatt, given his younger kid practically lived here, had been vehemently blocked by Dream.
In general, Dream seemed like more than a big brother to Tubbo, almost like trying somewhat close to a father figure. Tubbo barely talked about Schlatt, but boy did he talk a lot about Dream. The boy was Phil’s primary information source, even when Dream tried to keep a tight lid on their life at home.
And while Tubbo didn’t seem to understand the reason why Dream always brought him over after Schlatt had a long work day, or after he went to the pub on Saturdays, Phil could imagine why.
Tubbo complained about Dream always being in front of his laptop, claiming he needed to work and couldn’t play with Tubbo. Phil could see the difference in Dream’s and Tubbo’s quality of clothing, even though Tubbo’s clothes were often clearly hand-me-downs or a few sizes too big, it didn’t compare to the almost rags Dream wore (aside from the one green hoodie Techno had gifted him a few birthdays ago), and Phil could guess where the money Dream made went.
Techno had once told him the boy dabbled in web design, once asking Techno to help him set up a freelance account on a website where you officially had to be 18 to register. And then Techno had complained that Dream barely had time for him anymore, drawling “not that the guy has that many friends, and now he doesn’t even have time to hang out with me?”, tongue-in-cheek.
And now Dream is sitting in his kitchen, sipping on his glass of water Phil had offered him, holding the ice pack to his bruised jaw. Phil had wrapped the ice pack in a thin towel, he didn’t want the boy to hold the freezing thing right to his skin.
Phil busied himself in the kitchen, purposefully ignoring Dream, who pretty much didn’t have a reason to be here at all apart from fetching Tubbo, not that Phil was gonna mention it.
After a few minutes Dream had begun shifting in his seat, grimacing whenever he thought Phil didn’t look, and he understood that it wasn’t just nervousness, but that he hurt. The hand that had held the water glass that now stood on the table ghosted over his torso a few times, as if to wrap around himself, but he always forced it back down to lay on his thigh.
Phil knew what bruised or even broken ribs looked like from that one time he fell down the stairs, and he knew how much that shit hurt, so it was surprising Dream managed to sit in one spot even this long. He chose not to think about the implications of such a pain-tolerance.
Eventually, under the guise of the rain still splattering outside, he managed to convince Dream to lay down on the couch, just "for the time being". The boy barely protested, out like a light the second he hit the couch.
After waiting for a few minutes to make sure he really slept, Phil grabbed a blanket to cover the boy. He frowned deeply when he catched a glimpse of a dark purple and yellow bruise just above his hips, made visible as Dream had curled into himself on the couch.
He had told Tommy and Tubbo that there was a surprise sleepover, ordering them to stay upstairs so as not to wake the sleeping boy.
Same went for Techno and Wilbur, Phil promising Techno he could talk to his friend in the morning.
And now here he sat, contemplating what the fuck he should do, a clearly abused boy asleep on his couch. He swallowed the anger threatening to rise as he thought about Schlatt, that would do Dream and Tubbo absolutely no good.
Phil sighed, burying his head in his hands. A talk was overdue as soon as Dream woke up in the morning.
He wouldn't let those two boys go back to Schlatt like that, not if he could fight it.