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Phil knew it was a problem when he went off to the woods for two minutes and immediately got attacked by a monster.
The creature currently had him slammed to the ground. At first, it looked like a very large crow. But now, with it pinning Phil to the ground, he could tell a few things.
One, if this was a crow, it wasn’t one anymore. That wasn’t just because of its size. The shape of the wings were wrong. Too large, built to be something else. Sharp, red eyes scowled down at Phil.
Two, this thing could not possibly have been a crow and never could be one. Metal lined the outside feathers of each wing. When it arched its head, dark purple lightning scattered along its iridescent black feathers. Fangs poked out of the black shell of its beak. Hissing, it scowled down at him. Bright red, glowing venom pooled from its mouth and dripped.
Then, it snapped its head down. Sharp teeth stabbed deep into his shoulder. The sharp point of its beak suddenly slammed down into the middle of his chest. Something hot flooded his chest. Mouth dropping open, Phil screamed. The bird ripped its head back, small flecks of blood dotting its beak. Then, it snapped its head down and started digging into his body, venom flying from its maw. Yelling, he punched it in the face. Blood spattered all around when it yanked its head away, screeching with a flap of its wings. Crying out, Phil tried to push himself up. Tried to drag himself back. Coughed weakly. Copper flooded his mouth.
“Help!” He yelled at the top of his lungs. “Someone help!” The crow stumbled back. Shook its head. Staring at it, Phil froze when he saw it charging forwards, pressed a hand against his chest to try and keep his chest together. It hurt. It hurt so much.
The crow screeched at him. Panicked, Phil forced himself back, took a breath.
And he screamed.
Something in his throat tightened up. As he stared, the beast’s wings flared out. It was thrown back like a ragdoll, slammed into the closest tree. There was a nasty crack . Phil shut his mouth with a click. Everything faded out.
He was barely conscious of his own head hitting the ground.
+++
When he opened his eyes, he was splayed out across a bed in the closest Emergency Center.
Someone’s hand was clutching his. He was facedown, bandages wrapped across his chest. Somehow, he knew that his injuries had been closed up, for the most part. Moving hurt. Groaning, he closed his eyes against the bright lights beaming down on his back. His chest and back were throbbing . Like when he slept on the stone floor of a cave when he and Kristin had first been yote into the States.
They hadn’t been there by choice. Unlike most of the others, who happened to be there by choice, Phil and Kristin had actually been snatched . They’d been walking when the ground dropped out from under them and they suddenly dropped into the ocean. Then they had to swim to shore, and they collapsed in a cave, and then the cave flooded and they ended up washed up on another beach and the Dream Team found them by total accident. How they hadn’t died, he wasn’t sure.
Sitting beside him was Kristin. Taking a breath and groaning a couple more times, he felt her thumb cross over his knuckles. “Hey, Kris.” He mumbled, face smushed into the pillow. Everything hurt. Another pulse of pain snapped through his spine and shoulders and he sucked in a pained breath. Turning, he bit onto the closest pillow, squeezed his eyes shut. Kristin held onto his hand, and Phil felt his muscles twitch a couple of times.
“I know, I know. It’ll pass in a second, it’s not a seizure your muscles are just cramping or something.” She explained softly. There was some shuffling and footsteps as the other settled down. Tommy, who looked horribly sick and like he didn’t like what was going on, settled down by his head and rested his chin on his arms. Closed his eyes slightly. Wincing, Phil reached up with his other hand. Hissed in a pained way at the tears at his shoulders and back. Then, he ran his fingers into Tommy’s hair. Felt the heat radiating from his skin.
“You’re alright, mate. I promise.” Phil whispered to him. Then, he glanced at Techno and Wilbur. Tubbo was missing, which probably meant that he was just in the bathroom or coming back from somewhere and then got lost. It had happened to the best of them, some of the Emergency Centers were built like an IKEA. They had lost Wilbur, Ranboo, Dream, Eret, Techno, and Tommy multiple times, despite them all being six foot or over, in the IKEA-style labyrinths of Emergency Center housing squares.
Tommy shifted slightly and sniffed, but didn’t say anything. Quietly, Wilbur and Techno settled down, Wilbur sitting on the floor cross-legged (which he would probably regret eventually) and Techno settling on the closest cot. He tugged at Tommy’s arm, dragged the young man over to lie down beside him with his head in Techno’s lap. He was pale. Unusually so, like he had been getting sicker and sicker only over a couple of hours.
Maybe he had been. Maybe Phil had just missed it, somehow. Swallowing, he watched the young man carefully.
He watched Tommy, and he prayed to a God he really didn’t believe in that everything would be alright.
+++
When he woke up next, his back was throbbing and burning .
Sucking in a pained breath, Phil pushed himself up on his elbows. Glanced around. It was dark in the Emergency Center, the lights dimmed in a way that indicated it was about five in the morning. Some of them were beginning to turn on. For the most part, though, they were off and dark.
The fabric of his shirt was scraping against his skin. Sitting up, panting and ignoring the darkness swirling in his vision, Phil reached back. Yanked his shirt off. The movement made his shoulders and back roar with pain. He sucked in a breath, winced audibly. Pushing himself up, Phil reached back and scratched at his neck. Winced.
It had been a couple days since he had been attacked by the crow beast. Things had changed. He was barely able to move. Now, though, he suddenly had a burst of strength. So there he was, stumbling out of the Emergency Center in nothing but the pair of blue checked sweatpants and some socks he slept in.
Pale blue light showered down on him. When he exhaled, Phil could see his breath fogging out in front of him. Looking around, he stumbled down the concrete steps. He couldn’t even feel the cold, though. Streetlights shone down on the car park, and he swallowed as he walked out. The moon was still high in the sky, stars sparkling around it.
There were crows sitting on the streetlights, staring down at him with glowing eyes.
Raising his head, Phil sucked in a breath. One of them fluttered down to him, stood right before him. Then, it fanned out its wings, flapped them and cawed.
“Phil!” He turned. Saw Kristin and Techno running up. Both of them skidded to a stop, Kristin with a worried look on her face, and Techno’s mouth drawn into a thin line. He looked confused. Blinking, Phil kept his arms around himself. Glanced over at the crow behind him. It made an odd hissing noise, eyes flaring with color. Then, it lunged. Shifted as it did.
Asphalt slammed into his back, and there was a giant crow standing above him. Against the streetlights, its whole body was silhouetted in jet black. Bright red eyes stared down at him, swirls of shimmering gold wreathed through the scarlet tone. Wings flaring out, blocking out all nearby light, it screamed in his face. Phil yelled right back. Felt something hot spreading out under his shoulders.
“Phil! Kick it!” Techno yelled. Glancing back, Phil turned back to the crow. Twisted and tried to kick it, punch it, something. There was a tearing feeling along his back and his arm. Something shredded through the skin there. Blood dripped from the new injuries, but he didn’t feel them as much as he thought. Instead, he was focused on the way the bird’s head snapped to the side as he just missed punching it, at the bright silver flash along the side of his arm as something caught the light of something there.
Stumbling back, the bird let him go. Phil stumbled to his feet. Glanced down at his arm. Behind him, he heard Techno and Kristin gasp softly. More footsteps arrived. Phil turned, glanced back. The crow shrieked, wings fanned out.
A tired-looking Wilbur, an obviously-ill Tommy, and a soaking wet Tubbo had appeared behind the others. Phil turned back to the crow. Paused for a second as he looked up at it. Glanced down at his arm again. Shifted it so the light caught silver again.
There were blades on the outside of his arms. Freezing, Phil raised his arm a little bit more. Looked at the blade. It wasn’t an actual blade. It was feathers , locked together and stiffened up. Swallowing, Phil looked back at the bird.
There was a long, bloody slash through its eye, stretching from the back of its head all the way through its beak. Red and gold blood, glowing and sparking, dripped down onto the asphalt. Shaking its head, the crow looked at him. Flared out its wings and hissed again. This thing wanted to kill him. Maybe kill the others.
Bracing himself, Phil took a breath.
The crow lunged for him. Everything seemed to slow. Phil ducked to the side, watched it fly by and slashed at it again. Twisting, it slammed on the brakes, talons skidding on the asphalt. Rocks scattered. It wheeled to face him. Lunged again. A razor-sharp beak went for his arm, and Phil ducked back. Tried to dart to the side. The beak cut into his back, and Phil turned. Something, some sort of instinct, told him to jump. So he did, felt sunlight hit his back, warm and striking. There was another sort of splitting feeling, but he ignored that over the fact that he was not flying, he was just falling .
The asphalt smacked into his face, but hey. He didn’t get killed by the crow thing. It stared down at him, like it was disappointed. The sunlight started hitting it. Hissing, the crow shook its head. Changed back to its smaller form. Then, it yelled at the others. They all fluttered off into the woods.
Groaning, Phil rolled to the side. Footsteps slammed against the asphalt. Raising his head, he looked up to see the others running up to him. Kristin crouched down next to him, gasping. “Oh my gosh, there’s so much blood.” She whispered. Wilbur held Tubbo and Tommy back at the stairs. Meanwhile, Techno was kneeling by Phil’s head.
“Really?” Turning his head, Phil huffed and then pushed himself up. Oddly enough, he felt…a whole lot better. “I feel fine. A little tired, I mean, but…” He paused when he saw what was there.
He had a pair of wings, currently very bloody and looking as awful as would be expected, sticking out of his back.
“Wings.” Techno laughed. Looked at him. “Wingza.”
Scoffing, Phil tried pushing himself up. Then, the pain started to hurt. His shoulders weren’t too bad. Honestly, they were just sore. His face and arms, though? Those hurt like shit . “Ow. Okay, uh…I need a shower or something.”
“Alright.” Techno scooped him up casually, throwing Phil across his shoulders. Yelping, Phil grabbed onto Kristin’s hand. Looked at her. She smiled at him, walked after him. “Let’s go get you a shower, Phil.” Techno announced.
Phil cackled lightly.
+++
It took about an hour for him to get all of the blood off of his body.
There was a lot. He didn’t actually end up losing any, though. Which was nice. He liked to have his own blood where it belonged, thank you very much.
Thankfully, Techno volunteered to help wash out the shower afterwards. Because Phil was tired—as— fuck . So he needed to rest. A lot. He really needed to rest, needed to curl up and then lay down. Preferably with the rest of the SMP. Since they were finally able to move again, that was what they were doing. Packing up and leaving. As for Phil, though, he had been ordered to lay down and rest and keep an eye on the idiots. Also known as the kids, and Purpled because he was a young adult now.
Tubbo was close to being eighteen, too. Then it was Ranboo, then Tommy. They’re all growing up. Phil thought. For whatever reason, he was being…really nostalgic? For some reason?
“Phil, I swear you’re acting like a broody chicken.” Someone—Tommy—commented, arms crossed. To be fair, he was wrapped up in blankets next to Phil, who had his wings splayed out. Currently, said wings were covered with down feathers, so he wouldn’t be able to fly with them, but they were already beginning to fledge with proper flight feathers. From the speed, he had maybe a day or two before being able to fly.
“I am not a broody chicken.” Phil commented, tugging the blankets closer. He really did feel like grabbing all the nearest blankets and potentially Kristin and the kids and not letting them go for the next couple of hours. Speaking of Kristin, she sat up next to him, leaned on her elbow with her chin braced against her palm, and looked down at him. Crossing his arms, Phil replied, “Okay. Maybe a little bit.”
“Chickenza.” Tubbo laughed, grinning brightly. He was curled on his side instead of on his back. Lately, he’d just been a little bit weird. Not letting people touch him was normal for him, he wasn’t good with touch and didn’t like it unless he initiated. But this was him actively threatening people who came close to brushing his back.
“Awww, you love us.” Ranboo said, smiling at Phil.
“Shut up.” His wings shifted a little bit. His face had been patched up, thankfully. So had his arms, once the razor-sharp feathers decided to hide themselves again. Tommy was lying down because he wasn’t good with blood and had been lying down for quite some time. “I will adopt all of you.”
“I don’t think you can adopt adults.” Techno commented as he returned. Then, casually, he scooped Phil up. “Come on, we’re taking you to the bus. In the blankets.”
As they were walking out, there was some sort of commotion at the doors. When Phil glanced over, he could see Dream and the Hunters—excluding Ant and Bad, curiously enough—arguing with some other people who looked like threats. Blinking, Phil looked at them.
Hopefully, they wouldn’t be an issue.
+++
Yeah, no.
They were being shot at. By the people Phil had seen earlier. Sam was desperately trying something, eyes closed. Punz was sitting at the edge of the doors, holding onto the silver bar that stretched from the top of the bus to the floor. There was a dark look to his eyes and he had a glowing sword in his hands. Bullets raked the sides of the bus, and Phil kept the kids underneath him. Everyone was kneeling on the floor, heads down and trying to keep from being hit. The only difference was Skeppy in the front seat, since he was partially made of diamond and the way they would have shot him would have hit the diamond and glanced off of it.
Wings spread out, Phil glanced back. Exhaled softly. Turned back to look at Kristin and the kids. Tommy was splayed out on the floor, looking nauseous. Beside him, tucked against the back of the bus with all the stuff as a barrier, was Tubbo. Ranboo was curled up close to him, knees and arms tucked in as much as was allowed by his otherwise lanky, obnoxiously tall form. Fear flashed across his face, and Phil tried to send him a reassuring smile. He wasn’t sure it worked.
There was another series of bullets that raked the sides of the bus. Skeppy pushed on the gas pedal. Everyone rocked back slightly, and Purpled suddenly got up. Slipped to the window, opened it carefully. Then, he looked out, focused.
Outside, there were screams. Then, Purpled looked away. There was a crashing noise, and Purpled let out a shaky breath. “You alright, Purp?” Ponk asked when Purpled knelt back down.
“I don’t think they died.” He replied. “And I don’t know if I’m relieved about that or not.”
“They’re shooting at us.” Bad reassured from the front of the bus. “If something happens to them, then they brought it upon themselves. You’re defending everyone. Stay down, don’t get hurt. Now, Punz?” He held out a hand. “Can you make multiple weapons?”
Punz handed Bad a knife. Quickly, Bad opened the doors. Wind broke into the bus, and Bad wrapped his tail around something outside. Turning, he looked at Punz. Took another knife. Then, he crawled up on top of the bus. There was a flash of metal. Tires screeched on asphalt. Then, there was a slamming sound. Bright flashes of light showed outside the windows. Carefully, Phil pulled Kristin closer. Looked at the kids, then at Techno and Wilbur. Connor and Alyssa exchanged a glance. Then, both of them ran for the door, shifted as they went and launched out.
“Connor, Alyssa!” Callahan yelled. Straightening up, Phil looked through the windows. Callahan was yanked back down by Schlatt and Puffy. When Phil glanced out the windows, he saw Alyssa and Connor attack the closest car. Jaws ripping into the car door, Alyssa literally ripped the door from the car and threw it into the road. Mouth falling open, Phil stared as a knife flashed in the sunlight and lodged in the neck of the man sitting in the driver’s seat. Connor crawled into the car, Alyssa behind him. There was gunfire, but the car suddenly swerved to the side. Quickly, Connor and Alyssa leapt from the car and started sprinting alongside the bus. Blood matted the wolves’ paws and muzzles, and it definitely wasn’t theirs. Then, they arced to the side, barked loudly, and Phil saw Alyssa tackle one of the motorcycles while Connor went for the other car, snapping at the woman hanging out one of the doors. The door was closed in his face, and then a knife slammed into the front tire and the car flipped when Connor grabbed the front bumper and twisted. Then, he was running off.
They crossed city lines, and the people shooting at them suddenly peeled off. Either the city lines stopped them, or they decided to count their losses and stop. Either way, they stopped firing. Skeppy kept driving for a little while. Connor and Alyssa ran beside them, Bad remained on top of the bus.
Then, eventually, they pulled to the side of the road. Panting, Connor limped back into the bus, tail wagging slightly as he looked around. “Come here.” Schlatt ordered. Connor walked over, and Schlatt picked up a wet towel, grabbed gently onto the ruff of Connor’s neck, and started wiping off Connor’s face. Then, he held out a hand. “Paw. Give it.”
Alyssa appeared with Bad, sand coating the blood at her paws. Tommy stayed lying down. “We still getting shot at?” Phil asked.
“Nope.” Skeppy replied. “They stopped at the city lines. We’re far enough they don’t want to pursue.”
“They’re hybrid hunters.” Tipping his head to the side, Dream added in a dark tone, “Slavers, too.”
“What?” Phil exchanged a glance with Kristin.
Leaning forwards, Dream said, “You know all those fanfics about how—the ones with us as hybrids?”
“I mean, I’ve seen a couple. And some animatics.” Wilbur mused, rubbing the back of his neck. Swallowing, Dream took a breath. Shifted and glanced at Sapnap and George.
“Some of them have less than friendly attitudes featured in them regarding things like magic and hybrids. It makes sense. Anytime that a minority group comes in, or there’s something that a large enough group of people don’t understand, then there’s discrimination against them.” Dream pointed out. “Which means that there’s probably enough hybrids now and enough different kinds for people to be scared of them. Scared of us.” He gestured to himself. George, Ant, Bad, and Sapnap.
“So we’re fu—“ Jack cut off when Bad shot him a look.
“Screwed.” Puffy offered. Since Bad seemed fine with that, he sort of…settled, somehow. Then, he dropped down by Alyssa, took one of the towels, and began gently cleaning off the other werewolf. She sat there, watching everyone and challenging them to say something. No one did.
“Okay, so, basically…we just ran…from slavers ?” Fundy asked, looking around. Gesturing widely, he asked, “Is no one going to talk about this?”
“Alyssa, Connor, are either of you injured?” Ponk asked, standing up. Purpled had been settled in his seat, Sam sitting beside him with a dejected look on his face. Connor made a whimpering sound, and Alyssa shook her head. Since Bad had finished cleaning the sand and blood matting her fur, she shifted back.
“I’m alright.” She settled down beside Callahan. “Connor got clipped by a bullet. Right above his left hip.” Nodding, Ponk walked over, hands already glowing.
“Hold on, I’m with Fundy.” Quackity pointed out, raising a hand. “We need to talk about this. There’s slavers?”
“That was who you, George, Sapnap, and Sam were talking with earlier, wasn’t it?” Wilbur asked, looking to Dream.
Standing up, Quackity gestured a little bit more. “Hold on. Hold on. So, first, the whole world’s just gone crackers and bananas. And now we have to worry about people grabbing some of us and just—“ He gestured. “Slaves? We’re just throwing away all rules here?”
“Quackity we have acid-spitting snakes, giant crows, and several of us have abilities we thought were impossible and something fantasy only last year.” Techno pointed out. Everyone slowly started to get settled back in their seats. Callahan seemed about to jump up and run, and Phil glanced at the kids before carefully pulling Tommy and Kristin both close. Ranboo was already being shifted by Eret and Wilbur, Tubbo squished into the window beside him.
“Maybe they haven’t gone slavery route yet. But what they were talking about…” Shaking his head, George added, “At the very least, they wanted Ant, Phil, and Bad dead. Skeppy, too. They probably didn’t know about the others.”
“So we’re not going to talk about how Alyssa and Connor just flipped a car and took out a bunch of hunters effectively alone? Except for Bad and Punz as backup?” Velvet asked. When everyone looked to him, he pointed out, “Because I don’t know about you, but those guys all saved our lives.” He had Ant curled up next to him, purring in distress and eyes blown wide. “Without them we’d probably be full of bullet holes.”
“Speaking of which, we need to beef up this bus.” Minx pointed out. “I don’t think the next group of hybrid hunters will be that nice.”
“There’s a lot we need to do.” Dream admitted, tipping his head to the side. Glancing over, he looked to Niki, Karl, Charlie, and Eret. “Do you have anything you’re worried about? I’ll try my best to remember, get this stuff written down a-and figured out somehow.”
Eret paused. Then, she glanced at Ranboo, Tubbo, Tommy, and then Purpled. “We need to protect our own. If any of us have some sort of—of latent abilities, then we need to figure out what triggers them. They might help. I think we should start training, too. Powered or not.”
“Right. Charlie, you have powers.” Karl pointed out. Holding up his hands, Charlie started waving them a little bit.
“It’s not anything useful, it’s just like slime and stuff.” Charlie excused.
“Uhm, excuse me? How is that not useful?” Velvet asked, looking back. “Charlie, you’re probably one of the most useful. I saw you when we were fighting those wolf-things—“
“Werewolves.” Techno corrected.
“Right, the werewolves. They couldn’t get an actual hit on you, your body just kept…absorbing it?”
“Right! I saw that.” Niki said. “Charlie, that was so cool!” Face flushing, Charlie glanced at the floor.
Fundy’s eyes widened. Leaning forwards, he started chattering, “If you can absorb hits, then logistically you might be able to absorb stuff like fall damage? Like, if you fall, you’ll be in a lot better shape than the rest of us. Plus, if you’re able to stretch your limbs out accordingly and can figure it out—“ Charlie started paying attention, thinking about it, “Then we can start training that for offense and defense.”
“Right! You’re like our little ace card!” Niki agreed.
“You’re assuming a lot, Fundy.” Jack countered.
“I’m not. Think about it.” Pointing at Jack, Fundy said, “You’re a blaze. You and Sapnap have blaze rods floating around you, like in Origins. I’m starting to turn into…whatever the hell I am right now,” pulling his hat off, he swept some of his hair back and away from his ears. “Ant is a cat. Thing. Werecat. Phil just got wings, and maybe they’re feathered and not elytra style but if this is like Minecraft—hell, we have the Ender Dragon in Britain right now—then logistically Charlie would probably follow the same rules as you, Sapnap, Bad, Skeppy, Ant, everyone like that. Which means he should be able to handle that kind of fall like a slime would. Boom.” Clapping his hands together, Fundy said, “No fall damage. At all.”
“Fundy, has anyone told you how damn smart you are?” Schlatt asked. Laughing, Fundy carded a hand through his hair.
“I coded Treasure Planet into Minecraft in a very short amount of time. I know I’m damn smart.” Fundy replied. Then, he turned and looked to Niki. “Do you have anything you can think of, Niki?”
“I think we should go back to Dream’s house for now.” Niki explained. “We have the funds thanks to Skeppy to buy some metal and the services to outfit it for avoiding hunters. Uhm…” Tipping her head to the side, she closed her eyes. Continued. “If we’re at Dream’s house, we should be able to handle ourselves for a little bit at least. We get our defenses up, start training. That kind of thing. We should be alright. Okay?”
“Sounds like a plan.” Dream said, turning to Skeppy. “In the meantime, let’s treat our wounds. Get some food in us, take some time to calm down and settle a bit. We’ll find some hidden areas to live in. We’ll drive nonstop, trade out drivers and keep moving until we get there. Bad, Sapnap, George, Skeppy, you think you can handle that?”
“If we have to? Absolutely.”
“Karl and I can learn if we hit straight roads.” Quackity added. Taking a breath, Phil settled back in his seat. Looked over at Kristin, held Tommy a little bit closer.
We’re going to be fine.
We have to be.
+++
They had been driving for two days, and Tommy was getting sicker.
Sitting cross-legged in the backseat, Tommy’s head in his lap and stroking his hair, Phil watched the kid’s face. His whole expression was pained. Tubbo had called Tommy’s parents when they stopped for a brief moment to gas up. Let them know that Tommy was sick.
Ponk couldn’t do anything for him. Whatever this was, no one knew. No one could do anything. They’d found a couple places, asked them about it. No help. Just apologies, meaningless words that meant they didn’t know what to do.
Phil settled his wings over Tommy, shifted slightly. Allowed the feathers to brush against the footwell of the bus seat to his right and then fold over Tommy’s legs. His eyes were open for once, just a little bit. Glazed, pained. Probably in a little bit of shock. He was really pale. Ranboo had been sleeping half the time. When Tubbo wasn’t sleeping, he was snappish and rude to pretty much everyone.
They let him be, unless he was being too cruel for no reason.
As for right now, it was late, and Dream was driving. George was awake, talking with him quietly to keep him awake while Skeppy, Bad, and Sapnap slept. Quackity was awake, Karl was not, and both of them had Sapnap curled into them.
In his lap, Phil felt Tommy twitch and start gasping. Like he couldn’t get any air, couldn’t breathe. “Tommy?” Phil asked. Quickly, he touched the side of Tommy’s neck. He could feel Tommy’s pulse actually racing , and not in a good pattern. “Dream! Pull over, something’s wrong with Tommy.”
Up ahead, Dream nodded, pulled to the side. Already, Phil had Tommy in his arms, forced his way through the seats and out the door. Around him, he could hear the commotion of the others waking up. Most of them were confused, and understandably so. By that point, though, Phil was settling Tommy in the grass, Kristin right behind him with Techno and Wilbur.
“Tommy? Hey, Tommy, I need you to focus on me, mate. Come on.” Dream ran around the front of the bus, skidded to a stop in the grass. Painfully, clearly with a lot of effort, Tommy opened his eyes. Looked at Phil. One of his hands twitched, he reached for him. Phil grabbed his hand, kept talking, “What’s up? What’s going on?”
Tommy opened his mouth. Tried to choke something out. All that came, though, was a sort of harsh noise, something that couldn’t possibly be good. His other hand grabbed at his chest, Techno had a hand around the back of his neck to check for his pulse. All of a sudden, Tommy jerked in their grasp. His eyes locked on something beyond Phil’s shoulder, and he went still. Techno’s eyes widened.
“Tommy. Tommy.” He paused, leaned down and pressed an ear to Tommy’s chest. His eyes widened. “Fuck. Shit.” Swearing in a quick string, he locked his fingers together, placed his hands on Tommy’s chest, and started compressions. “Come on Tommy. Dream, do breathing when I tell you to.”
Staring down at Tommy, who was deathly still and not breathing, Phil glanced over at Kristin, then froze.
Standing in the doorway of the bus, hands braced on either side of the walls with someone—Schlatt or Punz, maybe—trying to drag him back, was Tubbo. Wide, pale eyes were locked on Tommy as Techno and Wilbur tried to resuscitate him. Chest heaving, Tubbo kept standing there.
Then, he screamed in a pained way.