Archive of Our Own ^beta

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Tommy... didn't know much when he woke up. He knew that he wasn't alive, he didn't need to breathe and his skin felt rotten. He also knew that his name was Tommy. He didn't know his last name and oddly, he didn't feel the need to know. Looking around his wake-up point, Tommy realized he was in the middle of a road, in a large city. He was surrounded by those just like him, dead, and yet somehow awake. But looking into their eyes, they felt almost... vacant, like he was the most aware out of the entire population. 

Standing up, Tommy immediately took notice of not only a deep hunger that seemed to pervade his every sense, but also the wound in his abdomen, spilling out his guts for the world to see. Oddly, Tommy felt the need to cover it up. Walking around with a slight limp, (when did he get that limp?) Tommy came across a mall not too far away. It looked... vaguely familiar, almost like he'd been there before. He wouldn't be surprised, he only knew a few things after all. The others like him merely stood still, not walking, not even attempting to communicate. It was almost weird if he hadn't tried his own voice and found that he couldn't talk himself. 

The mall had very many clothes stores but he finally settled on a store that seemed to have lost its sign, as the only word he could see on it was the letter "a". Searching around, Tommy found a black and white striped shirt that fit his frame, and covered up the large hole in his abdomen. And now, Tommy had nowhere to go. He didn't have a place to go, no place to search for, and he certainly didn't feel the need to stand around needlessly like the others. 

So, with nothing else to do, Tommy took to just exploring. After a few long days and nights of just exploring the mall and the city, something began to pull at Tommy. Something strong and pervading. Having nothing else to do, Tommy followed. It wasn't long until he caught sight of a person. Not like those that surrounded Tommy, nor were they like Tommy. They were actually alive, they had a pulse and Tommy could hear his breathing. He didn't even smell the slightest bit rotten either, unlike those newly turned. 

The person, (boy, his mind supplied. How did he even know what he identified as?) was short, he had fluffy brown hair that covered his eyes and from what Tommy could see of his face were very old burn scars. He looked to be sitting against a wall, crying as he held onto a necklace with two vaguely familiar rings. Another step forward and the boy's head snapped to him, keeping him still. Why did he look so familiar?

"T-Tommy?" The boy asked, sounding so unsure of himself. He was trembling, and the tears on his face were falling faster and faster. The boy stood up and pulled out a small handgun, one specially designed with bees flying about. It had taken him days to get the perfect design and make it perfect. (How did he know that?) He was still shaking, his hands trembling. He couldn't keep eye contact with him. If he continued like this, he was going to get himself hurt. (Why did it never cross his mind that he himself was in danger?)

Walking forward, Tommy reached out and slowly took the gun from the boy's hands. He was shaking, his green eyes finally visible. Making sure that the safety was on, (how the hell did he know how to do that?) Tommy turned to the boy and held his hands, giving a slight smile. He didn't remember this person, he didn't know this person. But he felt the strongest push he's ever felt and in one fell swoop, Tommy was hugging the boy. He couldn't talk, but that didn't matter. The person stiffened and then sobbed into his shoulder, letting out the loudest cry possible. 

And that's when he heard it, the groans of others. He didn't know why, but he knew that while they were friendly to him, they would tear the person to shreds. And he didn't want that. Letting go, Tommy turned towards the slowly growing crowd of undead, and in the best way he could, he shrieked at them. The others stepped back and ran away. Turning around, Tommy aimed to go back to the boy, see if he was ok. But he was gone, having taken his gun with him. Tommy could still smell honey off of him and almost like he'd done it hundreds of times before, he held onto the chain on his neck, holding two different rings, with two different, and yet similar designs on them.

---

It's another week before Tommy catches eye of the boy again. He followed the same tug as before and this time, the boy wasn't in the best of situations. He was cornered and looked to be out of ammo for his gun, or perhaps he didn't have his gun in the first place. Other undead were surrounding him, and in a quick succession of movement, Tommy attacked. He snapped and grabbed, tearing the others away from the living one. 

He didn't know why, but Tommy knew that he had to save him. Save the boy that looked so familiar and yet so unknown at the same time. The boy had known his name, and really, Tommy would have protected him even if none of these were true, as the pull was taking him to the boy, wanting him to protect him. And Tommy would gladly do so.

He didn’t know how long he was smashing at the other undead, but every time they tried to come close, Tommy would tear them apart, leaving them without any limbs. Even if they remained alive (semi-alive?) they wouldn’t be able to move. 

They seemed to get the idea, as he killed them one by one, and they had started to disperse. Deciding to, hopefully, not bother them. The boy, the one he had seen a week ago, was staring at him in surprise. 

“You… protected me?” He asked. He was still huddled against the corner, taking in the amount of undead surrounding them. It had been… quite a hoard. Tommy nodded. “W-why?” The other asked. And that was the question of the year, wasn’t it?

Tommy couldn’t talk, couldn’t speak. The best he could do was a horrid scratch that hurt even his ears. And besides, even if he could speak, Tommy didn’t know why in the first place. Why did he help him? Why does he not act like the others? Why does Tommy feel like he should know this person? Why does he want to hold the necklace on his neck whenever he sees the boy? 

Tommy did the best that he could. He shrugged. Because really, none of his questions could be answered. 

“You… don’t know?” The other asked, staring at him with eyes alight with a mixture of emotions that Tommy couldn’t hope to begin to decipher. Tommy nodded his head. He really didn’t. The others face scrunched up. “Does that mean you do know, or that you’re saying that you don’t know?” He asked. Tommy sighed, this was gonna be difficult. He held up two fingers, hoping that the boy would know what he’s saying. 

“You don’t know?” and Tommy gave a sigh of relief, even if he didn’t really need to breathe anymore. The other laughed. "Well sorry bigman, you just… took me by surprise I suppose.” He began fiddling with his hands, Tommy couldn’t notice a gun on him, let alone the gun from a week ago. 

“Tommy?” The boy asked again, sounding more sure than he did last time. Tommy nodded his head. The other began to tear up again. Crawling forward, Tommy got up to the boy and held his head, brushing the tears out of his eyes. For some reason, this only invited more tears as he pulled Tommy into another hug, absolutely sobbing. 

Tommy ground out a warble. It wasn’t the best, it definitely didn’t tell of his intentions, but it got out his concern well enough. And well, he got hold of his necklace, holding it tight as he noticed one of the rings on his neck matched with one on the others fingers. It was of pure black, with gemstones inside, shaped exactly the same in the exact same pattern. The only difference was the boys held green gems and Tommy’s held red gems. 

He didn’t know how long he was holding onto the other, holding onto his necklace and rubbing circles into the others back. But Tommy does know that it’s dark out now, and the boy had a place to be, others to be with. (How Tommy knew that, he didn’t bother asking.) And so, slowly rowsing the boy from his crying, Tommy pointed up, showing the other that it was now night time. 

The boy cursed and ran off. To where, Tommy didn’t know, but he did know that the boy was important. Where he ran off to was important. And where that boy went, was a place to consider home. And so, he ran after the boy. Ran to follow him, because he knew, somehow, that the boy would take him home. 

Chapter Text

Chasing after the living boy wasn’t all that difficult, even with his rotted body and limp, Tommy was capable of keeping up with the boy. The run lasted for a bit, and Tommy felt the pull he felt towards the other get stronger and stronger. Honestly, even if Tommy wanted to, he wouldn’t be able to turn around and stop following the other. 

There were a few more undead trying to get to the boy, but Tommy’s growl forced them to step back. Granted, the first time, the other took a stop and turned around. Tommy didn’t see his face as he was keeping his gaze upon a rather rotted looking undead. Their hair was gone and any teeth were gone. It’s eyes were bloodshot and its skin was a weird purple. 

The growl kept on until the other turned around. It seemed like it didn’t want to bother Tommy. By the time Tommy turned back to the other, he was starting to run again. Tommy kept up, making sure to not lose him. 

They neared an apartment complex and the other took shorter steps, eventually stepping into a walking pace. Tommy kept close behind him. 

The other turned around and faced Tommy. He held out his hand towards him and placed it upon his cheek. The feeling made Tommy want to nuzzle into it and the other seemed to tear up again. “You followed me?” Tommy nodded. “Why?” Tommy gave a deadpan stare as he pointed at his throat.

“Oh, um, sorry. Guess you can’t answer me can you?” Tommy shook his head. “You really don’t want to eat me, do you?” The other asked and once again, Tommy shook his head. 

“Tubbo!” A frantic sounding voice called. The sound of heavy footsteps soon followed and in a moment, Tommy was pushed away from the other falling to the ground. That… semi-hurt. Tommy started up as a new living person, one that was so tall that even if he was standing Tommy would have to look up to see him. He had dirty-blond hair but other than that, Tommy couldn’t tell what the boy looked like because his face was completely covered by a mask and sunglasses. (Who the fuck wore sunglasses this late at night?) Tommy had the distinct feeling the tall one had green eyes. 

The tall one was checking over the other, looking for what seemed to be injuries. He was muttering and looking all over. 

“I’m fine Big Man!” He was laughing. “I told you I found him! And I told you he didn’t hurt me!” The tall one stiffened and turned around, staring at Tommy dead on. He seemed to be holding his breath. And in that moment, and that moment alone, Tommy wanted to cuss the tall one out. Even if he hadn’t had access to is voice, he still could do something. And so, he put up his middle finger. 

That seemed to break some sort of tension as the tall one gave a sort of disbelieving laugh. “Hey, uh, Tubbo? I’m not seeing things, right? I’m not hallucinating?” 

The other, (Tubbo? That fit surprisingly well.) started laughing. “Well Bigman, unless we both started on some drugs and then started hallucinating a zombie Tommy at the same time, I’d say we needed to worry about getting the kids some better guardians.” Kids? Why did that seem so familiar? Why did he get the image of two little kids running around? 

“Okay, okay, good. Um… Tommy?” Tommy tilted his head. What did the tall one want? “What… what do you remember exactly?” And now, Tommy had to sigh. Seriously? It’s not like he can talk! 

“Ranboo,” (Ranboo? That was his name? While it fit, Tommy can’t understand why someone would name their child such a thing.) “Tommy can’t um… talk. I-I’m sure if he could, he’d be talking right now but all I’ve heard from him were groans and growls.” Tommy nodded. Yup, if he could talk, he’d be cussing Ranboo out. For what, Tommy couldn’t tell, but he had a feeling he needed to cuss the other out. 

“Oh, so… do you not remember sign language?” Sign… language? That was vaguely familiar. He knew it had something to do with his hands… but what exactly did he have to do? Tommy shook his head. He didn’t know shit about how to do it. 

“Th-that’s ok bigman! We can teach you like you taught us!” He taught them how to sign? That sounded familiar but he couldn’t bring up the memory for the life of him. Tommy gave a thumbs up anyways. If he could communicate better, he’d take it. 

Ranboo walked up to him, and pulled him up into a hug. It was such a swift movement that Tommy wound up giving a sound of startled surprise. The person he was hugging started laughing and Tommy slapped him. The laughing just continued and Tommy felt the droplets of water land on his head. Turning to stare up, Tommy saw that Ranboo was also crying. And what was probably the most interesting thing, Ranboo was wearing his rings on a chain just like him. What intrigued him even more was the fact that he was sharing a ring with him as well. The ring was that of silver, with a simple bee carved flying above a set of flowers. (Alliums, his mind supplied.) Tommy’s was only different in that it was a bee flying with some music. 

And when Tommy got a good look, Tommy realized Tubbo and Ranboo also had matching rings. They were both of golden color, and looked like they had music discs placed upon the top, encrusted with a yellow and red gem respectively. Tommy reached up to Ranboo’s necklace, bringing his up with it. 

There was laughter behind them, and Tommy turned towards Tubbo, laughing. Turning to Ranboo, Tommy could see why. He was staring at Tommy with such a shocked expression that Tommy wound up giving his best attempt at a laugh himself. 

When Ranboo let Tommy go, he had an odd look in his eye. “Tubbo, you know we can’t let him inside, right?” Tommy tilted his head. What?

It seemed that Tubbo had shared his confusion, asking it aloud. “It’s just that… we don’t know how he’s going to react to the kids, and what about their reaction to him? He’s covered in blood and would scare them. 

That… that made sense, kinda. The second bit at least. The two images of kids he’s getting when they’re mentioned just makes him want to snuggle into them and hold them tight. But he did know he was covered in his old blood and it wasn’t like the smell of rotting flesh was easily hidden. It was what made the distinction between the living and the undead. 

Tubbo, it seemed, was stubborn. “We can get him cleaned up and have him better! We don’t need to leave him out here!”

“And what if he tries to eat them Tubbo?” Ranboo asked. “What if he tries to attack Shroud and Michael?” Those names were so familiar and the images he puts in Tommy’s head makes him want to shrink back. 

“He hasn’t tried to eat either of us, do you really think he’d try that on Michael? On Shroud?” Tubbo was giving him a disbelieving look. 

Ranboo shook his head. “We can’t take any chances Tubbo. Please. Maybe if we see his reaction to them behind glass, and at a safe distance, but not until then. The kids are asleep and they really need their rest.” Tubbo sighed. 

“I-You’re right. Yeah. Ok. Tommy, you’re ok with staying out for tonight, right? We… We can’t risk it. And the zombies don’t want to eat you so…” Tommy nodded. He understood the smell bit at least. He’s willing to stay outside. Even if he was still being tugged to the apartment complex. He’d sit outside and wait. 

It wasn’t like he had anything better to do. So he waved the two off and saw them go inside the apartments. It was a little while later that he noticed that he was crying himself. He didn’t even know he could do that.

Chapter Text

The next day, while they were trying to get him cleaned up and into more presentable clothes (the shirt he was wearing ever since the mall was covered in dirt and blood, both his and other undead’s.) that they saw the extent of damage Tommy had. Tommy didn’t even know he had so many scars himself, but he couldn’t help but stare in a mirror at the smile face scar he had there. The other two were still hung up on the fact that all of Tommy’s guts were gone and, really, he can’t blame them. They hadn’t had to deal with the empty cavity themselves and he couldn’t really warn them about it.

Ranboo had to leave the room and Tubbo looked like he wanted to do the same. But he set about helping Tommy clean himself. Tommy did the majority of the work, but he found he couldn’t reach certain places and thus needed help with his back. Tubbo made sure he had everything set up before he left the room, probably to go talk to Ranboo. 

The mirror in the room really was both a blessing and a curse. Tommy finally knew what he looked like, with stringy golden hair and dull blue, nearly grey eyes and skin so very much pale. There was a white strip in his hair that Tommy didn’t understand where it came from. It didn’t even have the same familiar pull as the scars on his body did. 

When Tommy was done, he got a white and red shirt, (it looks familiar) and a regular set of jeans. Leaving the bathroom Tommy tried to search for Tubbo and Ranboo but they didn’t seem to be in the place. Tommy knew that he wasn’t in the apartment that the kids lived in. They weren’t even close.

Tommy was a bit hurt that Tubbo and Ranboo didn’t trust Tommy around their kids, (his kids) but he understood a bit. He knew that if he were in their shoes, he’d have a lack of trust. He’d seen other undead trying to kill Tubbo before, and he knew Ranboo was attacked as well.

While searching the house, Tommy came across what seemed to be a sewing kit. He didn’t know why, but the urge to make something hit Tommy and within moments, Tommy was searching the house for old clothes and he set about making. Would it be good? Nope! But it was a way to use the needles that felt like long time friends. 

Tommy was almost done with the mix-matched shirt he was making when he heard a gasp. Turning around, Tommy saw Tubbo, an odd look in his eyes. Tommy gave a smile and waved. 

Tommy watched as Tubbo walked over and sat next to him, staring at the thing that Tommy was creating. “What you making big man?” Tubbo asked. He looked like he was a mixture of constipated and upset. Tommy held up the almost completed shirt. It was all over the place in design and really shouldn’t even be considered a shirt at this point, but it was something and it distracted him. 

Tubbo smiled at him, “It’s amazing big man!” Tommy made a face, it so wasn’t. Wasn’t even something he felt he could be proud of. He felt the need to make something better. Tubbo most likely saw his face and laughed. 

—

It was a month later that Tommy had enough. He was clean, he damn well knew that while he doesn’t remember Shroud or Michael, he definitely wouldn’t hurt them. He had been patient but really, he couldn’t wait anymore. He still felt a pull, and now that he knew the last two people’s names, that pull was insistent. And so, after following Ranboo around while he went on a supply run, Tommy refused to stay outside, doing so much as to stand in the doorway.

“Tommy, c’mon man. Please? We still don’t know if you’re safe around the kids and-” Tommy snorted and sent a leveled look at Ranboo. He had been learning sign from Tubbo and he used it to his advantage. Even if it’s very little.

“ Won’t Eat. ” Tommy signed. Ranboo looked upset. 

“You don’t know that Tommy! It’s weird enough that you haven’t tried with Tubbo or I, and while I am so happy about that, I can’t risk them!” Tommy glared. They held a staring match (Is it even a staring match if one of their faces is completely covered?) until Ranboo relented. “Fine. But your arms are bound by either Tubbo or I as you see them, alright!” Tommy smiled and nodded. He didn’t quite like being bound, but the pull was getting really strong and he just needed to see the last two of the (his) family. 

Ranboo sighed and left the room. Tubbo came back in and looked at Tommy. He must have seen something because he hugged Tommy. “Ranboo’s just paranoid. You won’t harm a hair on their head, I know it.” Tommy felt himself relax. Since when was he stiff? It didn’t matter at the moment because Tommy heard the telltale sound of three different sets of footsteps. 

Tommy recognized one set at Ranboo and the other two sounded familiar, but Tommy couldn’t quite place it. Tubbo let go and stepped behind him, keeping a hold on Tommy’s arms. It wasn’t strong, but it was obviously there. Tommy got the distinct feeling that Tubbo was as nervous about this as Ranboo was. 

And standing in the stairway were two children. One with semi-short, curly black hair and very red eyes. The other had light pink hair (it’s natural, surprisingly) that covered one of his eyes and the one Tommy could see was of a charcoal black. The black-haired one (Shroud, that’s Shroud) was holding onto what looked like two plushy’s, one of a cow and the other of a cute little spider. He was four. His mind didn’t need to correct himself upon Shrouds age, he knew that. The pink one (Michael, that was the other name)  was holding a blanket close to himself. He was three, last Tommy checked. (He’s probably four. He probably missed his birthday.)

When Michael took a step back, be it from fear or shock, Shroud ran forward. A shriek of “Daddy!” was all the group got to hear with a black blur as he barreled into Tommy. The feeling of hands on his arms were lose enough that Tommy could break the hold as he crouched down and hugged Shroud. It felt natural. It felt like he’d done this his entire life, and yet he couldn’t remember it at all. Tommy looked up and saw Michael standing stock still. He was scared. 

Tommy tried to talk, to ask Michael to come over, but all that came out was another warble. And then Michael ran off. Tommy was hurt, and he didn’t know why Michael ran off. But right now, he had Shroud to focus on as he held him. 

Tommy didn’t know how long the two were like that, with Tommy just kneeling and Shroud holding on for dear life. But what Tommy did know was that Tubbo and Ranboo left at some point. He also knew that it was getting late and Shroud was finally starting to doze off. 

Making sure to keep a hold of Shroud, Tommy stood up and walked up the stairs. The apartment wasn’t that far up, Tommy knew. And Tommy could smell them as well, Tubbo, Ranboo, and Michael, as well as leftover from Shroud. Tommy knocked on the door. 

Ranboo was the one to open it and when he saw Tommy, and Shroud, his eyes softened. “Sorry for doubting you Tommy.” Ranboo said, stepping to the side. Tommy flicked his forehead and leveled Ranboo a look. He had nothing to apologize for. Ranboo laughed and nodded. It seemed alive him did that often. Tommy nodded his head towards Shroud, now full asleep. 

“Oh, uh, do you not… remember where Shrouds room is?” Ranboo asked. Tommy shook his head. No, he didn’t. And tracking smell here was practically impossible. “Alright, follow me then.” And as Ranboo led Tommy to Shrouds room, and as Tommy placed Shroud down on the bed, Tommy had a smile. And as he made sure that the little spider and the little cow that Shroud had were tucked in with him, Ranboo held that same smile. 

Upon leaving the room, Tommy looked to Ranboo and hugged him. It felt right. Being here, hugging Ranboo, having just tucked Shroud into bed. And yet, it still felt off. Tubbo wasn’t here and Tommy didn’t know if Michael was in bed yet. But that incessant pull had lessened and Tommy knew he made the right choice to follow it. To follow Tubbo. Even if it wasn’t just right, it worked. Ranboo held him close.

Chapter Text

When Tubbo and Ranboo eventually had to go to bed, (what even was the point of sleep anyways?) Tommy was left to his own devices to explore and find where everything was. He already had the living area set, and he knew where the others slept, sans Michael.

He found the kitchen pretty easily, and the bathroom as well. There was a door with a mushroom design on it that when Tommy walked in, he had come face to face with a sleeping Michael. The kid was curled up on a bed, hugging the same blanket that Tommy had seen him with earlier. He couldn’t quite let go of the feeling that something was missing from that setup. 

The last room, it seemed, was just a normal supply closet. It held what was probably the old owners clothes and a few bins. There was that pull again and upon further inspection, Tommy found what looked like an old, slightly torn, stuffed animal that looked like a chicken, as well as a pig plush. Flashing back to the sewing kit that he used in the complex he was staying at before, Tommy began searching the closet even more. There, a more complete kit that held the components needed. 

Tommy picked up the damaged chicken and started sewing. There wasn’t much needed, a wing needed to be reattached and a little stuffing was stuffed in, but it was relatively easy and Tommy got to finish it. The stitching was different than the rest of the chickens, but that was fine, it didn’t need to be perfect, he just needed to fix it. 

Tommy smiled down at the chickens beady little eyes and walked back to the closet. He placed the kit and the stuffed animal back into the closet as he looked at the little pig on the shelf. This felt important, that pull was still there and he felt he needed to do something with it, but what? Tommy reached over to his rings. The others were all asleep and Tommy now had nothing to do.

He supposed he could go back to Tubbo and Ranboo’s room. He couldn’t sleep, but he could keep an eye on them.

—

As it turns out, that staring at a sleeping Tubbo was a one way ticket to getting your head nearly chopped off. When Tubbo woke up, Tommy was sitting in the corner, staring at him, and within moments Tommy was pinned down with what looked like a sword along his neck, Tubbo staring at him in a slightly dazed confusion. 

“Tommy?” Tubbo asked, finally waking up. Tommy nodded, looking down at the sword that was so close to cutting off his head. Tubbo shakily sighed as he climbed off of Tommy. “Sorry big man. Just not used to waking up with you kinda… staring at me.” Tommy supposed he understood. The undead staring at him did creep him out as well.

Tubbo held his hand out to the still down figure and Tommy gladly accepted it, smiling. “Why were you staring at me anyways?” Tubbo asked, looking at the corner Tommy was in a little creeped out. Tommy tried his best to sign that he couldn’t sleep but he really didn’t know enough words to say it. Tommy thusly, groaned in frustration. 

Tubbo laughed. “Alright big man. I don’t think I’d be able to go back to sleep even if I wanted to anyway so why don’t we go make some breakfast, pancakes alright?” Tommy smiled and nodded. He knew the others had to eat, even if he didn’t really feel an urge to. 

Tubbo had gotten out a couple of things to use to cook, some flour, eggs, butter, and milk. (How was any milk still good? Tommy doesn’t remember much, but he’s pretty sure the milk would have expired by now.) Tommy felt like it was missing something so he set about searching the cabinets for anything. Unfortunately, he couldn’t find what he was looking for. 

Tommy looked back to Tubbo, who was staring at him with that weird look in his eyes again. “You looking for sugar big man?” Tommy widened his eyes. That was exactly what he was looking for! He nodded his head, smiling wide. Tubbo chuckled. “Sorry big man. We ran out of sugar about two months ago and Ranboo and I have yet to find any more.” 

Tommy stared at Tubbo in shock. Seriously? No sugar? That felt so wrong in the pit of his body that once Tubbo turned around and started getting to work, Tommy took a handful of flour and tossed it at Tubbos head. 

Tubbo slowly reached over to his head, patting the spot that was hit with the flour. “Did you just- Did you just hit me with a wad of flour?” Tubbo sent an accusatory glare at Tommy. Said zombie grinned and held up his hands in a supposedly placating way. And it would have seemed like he was innocent if it weren’t for the fact that he did, in fact, have flour left on his hand. “Oh you are so dead!” He shouted as he flung his own handful of flour at Tommy. 

Tommy sputtered as it landed directly in his face. He laughed as he flung some more flour at Tubbo, barely missing as the boy dodged and sent another handful of flour at him. 

The little flour fight lasted for a few more minutes before they heard someone clearing their voice. Looking to the side, Tommy saw Ranboo standing in the doorway of the kitchen, giving them an unimpressed look. (He can actually see Ranboos face this time. He was right, his eyes are green.) 

“Really you two? Can’t even last a day before causing a mess?” Ranboo looked them up and down. Tommy shrugged, he felt like this was normal but at the same time, so fucking new. It was driving him a little insane. And thus, to counteract that, Tommy did the only thing he could think of. He threw a wad of flour at Ranboo. 

Ranboo stared at him for a second before going into a wide grin. “Oh it is on!” Ranboo exclaimed as he dashed towards the flour bag and hit both Tommy and Tubbo with wads of it.

The exact scene that Michael and Shroud walked in on was that of a floury wonderland. The entire place seemed to have at least a thin layer of flour. Tommy, Tubbo, and Ranboo were all covered head to toe in flour as the original bag sat empty. Shroud, upon seeing Tommy, immediately ran over to him, squealing in excitement. Promptly getting his sleep clothes covered in flour.

Michael was still kinda standing there. He seemed to want join in but every time he looked at Tommy, he froze over. 

Tubbo turned to the room and surveyed it. “Looks like pancakes are out of the question,” he stated, his voice full of mirth. Ranboo turned to Tubbo.

“You tried to make pancakes, without sugar, in the same room as Tommy?” he asked incredulously. Tubbo harumped and crossed his arms. He looked over to Michael.

“Hey Michael, you doing alright bud?” Tubbo asked. And Tommy could see why, he was shaking. He kept looking at Tommy and the zombie had the distinct feeling that Michael feared him. Tommy turned back to Shroud just as the child felt the need to slap Tommy with some flour himself. He promptly burst into laughter, and when he turned back to where Michael was, the boy was gone. 

He looked over to the other two in confusion, tilting his head to put an emphasis on it. Tubbo sighed. “Do you remember where we found Michael, Tommy?” Tommy shook his head. Try as he might, remembering before his turning was impossible. The urge is there, his mind will supply with information, but it’s not the same as a memory. “He was sitting in the basement of a house, clutching onto a little chicken plush. His parents were… upstairs but, well, undead. They were like you Tommy, but they never recognized anyone. They tried to hurt Michael. I don’t think they remembered who he was.” 

Tommy stared. That explained… a lot. But, hadn’t Tommy seen a torn chicken plush in the closet? And he hadn’t seen Michael with any plushies in his room. He tried to spell out the word with sign, he wanted to know about it. 

“Chicken Plush?” Ranboo asked, “You wanna know about it?” Tommy nodded. “Well, it was an old, worn down thing, and at some point, its wing got torn off. Tubbo and I don’t know how to sew, and if we did, we didn’t feel like we could look at it, so it never got fixed. Why do you ask?” Tommy smiled and held up a finger. He stood up and left the kitchen. First things first, get his hands clean at least. 

Upon having very wet, but clear of flour hands, Tommy walked back to the closet. Opening it, Tommy pulled out both plush’s from there. The pig, Tommy could see now, held a more self-done style. He paused for a second before opening Michael's room.

The kid was sitting on his bed, curled around the blanket. He was staring at Tommy as he walked in. He scrambled back, fear on his face. Tommy looked down at the plush’s, then back at Michael. He walked to the center of the room, and placed the two plush’s in the center and left. 

It was after the kitchen was cleaned up and everyone (sans Michael) got a shower to clear themselves of fire, that they sat down for what was now lunch. Tubbo tried to get Michael to come out of his room to eat, but he didn’t make a sound. It was while Tubbo and Ranboo got into a slight argument, something about making honey dicks? Tommy heard a door open, and a small pitter patter of feet, and then a small pair of arms surround his body. Turning slightly, Tommy saw Michael. He smiled and gently picked up the boy, who was holding on tightly to the chicken plush that Tommy had given back to him. 

Tommy was smiling as he held the last part of the family to him.

Chapter Text

Tubbo had known that things were too good to be true. He did, he swears it. He was aware that the idea of Tommy being undead and yet didn’t want human flesh was absurd at best. He was aware that he should have been dead that first night upon seeing Tommy. He was aware that his best friend was a walking corpse with a gaping hole in the center. 

And yet, here he was, interacting with the family like he used to. He held Shroud the exact same way, he caused arguments between himself and Ranboo constantly, even with the lack of talking Tommy was still Tommy. Tommy was here, his best fucking friend and platonic husband was here and he was taking care of the kids so well. 

So, of course, he didn’t think twice about inviting another group of survivors to his home to rest for the night. 

He had found them killing off the undead on a supply run. The tallest was a man with wavy brown hair and hazel eyes. He wore a long trench coat and held a sword for mele use. (He ignored the fact that Tommy used to be the mele of the family. Chopping at the undead silently with his axe.) The second tallest was a man with long hair that faded from brown to pink a little over half a foot in. He held a crossbow, shooting it at any undead that got too close. The shortest was a man with fluffy blond hair and blue eyes, not unlike how Tommy used to look. There was no weapon on the man that Tubbo could see. He couldn’t get over the fact they looked familiar, 

Tubbo was just fine letting the group continue on and leave the city as quickly as they came. It was his home and he finally managed to get a place good enough to have his entire family live contently for the next couple of years. (More like one year, there’s not enough food to last several years without starving, and that’s not good for kids.) However, the group managed to pull a stupid and created a loud noise within the area, attracting practically every single undead within a fifty-mile radius. 

And stupid, stupid Tubbo, with all his wits about him, took one look at the situation and told them to follow him. 

Pink man had pointed his crossbow at him, asking why they would do that.

“Because you just attracted every single undead within a large area. And while I’m sure you’d rather not trust a random stranger, I know this city, and I know exactly where to go when a loud noise is created. So you either come with me, or you die to a horde of undead hungry for human flesh.” He honestly didn’t know where that came from, but standing by as he knew a group of people were alive wouldn’t dwell well on his conscience.

And so, here he was, dragging a group of three through the streets, avoiding undead and pushing them into building after building, losing the undead until they were within an abandoned building he had known was cleared out. 

When the group finally managed to slow down and land within the building, they were left panting. Very easily, Tubbo took control of his breathing, slowing it down relatively quickly. 

“Well, while I appreciate you helping us out back there, I gotta ask your name, seeing as none of us know you.” The pink-haired one stated. He was the second person to get his breathing in order. 

Tubbo snorted, “It’s not like I know your names either big man. To me, I just saved a bunch of strangers in the middle of the road after they attracted a horde to them.” The brown-haired man blushed. It was his fault for screaming after all. 

The blond man stepped forward. “Sorry about my sons, my name is Phil Craft, and these two are Wilbur and Techno. Thank you for saving us.”

“Craft?” Tubbo asked, staring at the group in shock. “You wouldn’t happen to be related to a Tommy Craft, would you?” That got a look across the group. Yup, definitely related. Pink-man, or Techno, held up his crossbow to Tubbo as Brownie, or Wilbur held up his sword to Tubbo.

“How the hell do you know that name?” Techno asked.

Tubbo raised his hands in a surrender pose. “Woah Woah big man. I uh, suppose an intro really is in order um… My name is Tubbo Tuberculosis Beloved-Underscore-Craft. I’m platonically married to Tommy and another person named Ranboo.” The three stared at him, Techno seemed to drop his crossbow to his side and Tubbo was able to step to the side away from the sword Wilbur had pointed at his neck. Phil seemed to have a look of shock and pride on him. 

“Tommy, got married?” Wilbur asked, seeming to come out of his stupor a little. “Are you sure we’re talking about the same Tommy? It could be a coincidence. Craft is a well-known last name and it’s not like Tommy is an uncommon name.”

Techno raised an eyebrow. “What, you refuse to believe that your little brother got married before you?” Wilbur sputtered.

“N-no! It just seems like a coincidence that we find the husband of our brother, who we lost track of when the pandemic first hit! I’m just saying it’s a common name!” Wilbur crossed his arms and huffed seemingly forgetting that Tubbo was there. 

Phil, it seemed, didn't, as he turned towards the boy. “I don’t want to get my hopes up. Describe him to me please. Full description. I don’t want to think we’re thinking of the same person when we’re not.” Tubbo crossed his arms. 

“And how do I know you aren’t planning on sneaking up on him and killing him? You’re all total strangers to me and, no offense to you guys, but I’ve never heard of any of you, from Tommy’s mouth or not.” Wilbur dropped his mouth and Techno snorted but nodded along. Phil dropped his shoulders.

“His nickname is Theseus, I’d read him stories of greek mythology since before the epidemic hit. He claims his middle names are Danger Kraken, when it’s just Innit. That describes him well enough for you, yeah?” Tubbo nodded. Yeah, that sounded like Tommy, or the Tommy from before he was turned. He’d often claim his name was Tommy Danger Kranken Craft. He later admitted, when Shroud was added to the family, that his middle name was Innit and he hoped to give Shroud the name as well. As for Theseus? He talked about how his brother would call him it often enough that it turned into a nickname for him. 

“My Tommy has bright blond hair and blue eyes. He refuses to wear anything that doesn't have the color red, and he’d often comment on things with a knowledge of greek mythology, remembering things associated to it. His middle name is Innit, he’d call everyone clingy when he was the one to initiate most hugs or anything affectionate, and he’d often yell out to anyone that called him a child that he was not, in fact a child, but a big man who can handle anything.” He’d used to yell it at least. Tommy couldn’t talk for the life of him and while his sign has significantly improved, anything beyond guttural sounds would not come out.

They all relaxed and Wilbur laughed in disbelief. “Well I’ll be damned. The child really did get married before me. Where is he anyway? And your other spouse, Ranboob, you said his name was?” 

Tubbo snorted. “Ranboo, actually. Tommy made the same exact mistake and had taken to calling him that for like, three months.” Phil chuckled. “And as for where they are… They’re at our current camp.” Ranboo had fallen sick and was left to rest in bed as Tubbo gathered supplies and Tommy was left in charge of the kids. Tommy may be immature enough to start an egg fight, but he definitely knew when to stop and be responsible. 

Phil nodded. “You think we can see him? We got separated after a situation with a shit ton of undead, and it’s been years.” Tubbo looked at him skeptically. While he wouldn’t doubt that, separation from family was common when the epidemic first hit, he was more concerned about how Tommy would react. Not only does he have some severe amnesia from being turned, the fact that Tommy admitted to the fact that he felt a pull towards the rest of the family, and only them, most likely meant that the only reason Tommy hadn’t eaten their faces off was because of that pull. 

Tommy didn’t have another pull. He said that he was just fine. Tubbo didn’t know how he’d handle it. Would he have a pull towards this family, If they even were his family, and if he didn’t, would that mean he’d try to eat them? It would hurt them. “I’ll… talk to them, how about that. I won’t guarantee that he’ll talk to you though, alright?” They all seemed to deflate, but Wilbur had an odd glare on his face. 

“What do you mean, ‘if he’ll talk you you’, he’s Tommy! He’d jump at the chance to talk to us again. Especially after all these years.” Tubbo winced. He knew that. The living Tommy would absolutely do that. Hell undead Tommy did that! But that doesn’t change the fact that undead Tommy is undead, and most likely won’t react well to their presence. 

“Just… a bit has changed recently. He might not be up for it. Look just, I’ll meet you here again on his choice on this, and then, if he says yes, I’ll explain more on the situation. But only if he complies. Got it?” The others nodded, rather reluctantly, but still in agreement. Tubbo sighed, “Good. I’m sorry but this is… serious.”

—

“What do you mean no?” Wilbur asked, looking at Tubbo incredulously. Tubbo just raised an eyebrow.

“I mean, we talked, we decided as a group on what to do, and Tommy said he didn’t want to see you.” Even if he can’t speak, he was very clear with his discomfort at meeting another living being. And he made the exact points the other two were thinking of when he said he wasn’t sure he’d be able to not eat them. He was undead, and they all had that theory for a very good reason. 

Wilbur growled. “And how the hell do I know you’re not hurting him. How do I know you aren’t just fucking with me on knowing my baby brother.” Tubbo shot him a glare.

“I know my fucking husband as I know my own mind. He’s a kind ass bastard and he just doesn’t feel comfortable talking to you. That’s final. Got it?” Wilbur sent him a glare as Techno remained to the side, also glaring but remaining quiet. Phil laid a hand on Wilburs shoulder and nodded.

“We understand mate. It’s been a long time and he has a family now.” Tubbo relaxed. That wasn’t the reason, but it was nice to know someone slightly understood. With that, Tubbo left, relieved. 

The cuddle pile he was promptly dragged into the moment he got home was a nice thing as well.

—

A week later had Tubbo had to hold back his rage as he saw the three men directly in front of the door. “And why, pray tell, did you think coming here was a good idea?” Wilbur was standing sheepishly and was clearly trying not to move too much. They were so damn lucky that Tommy and Ranboo were out for supplies this week because honestly, Tubbo wouldn’t have found it in himself to hold Tommy back had he wanted their flesh. 

Techno scowled. “We wanted to see our baby brother, seeing as a person claims to have known him so well to be married to him.” 

Tubbo just glared at him. “What about no, do you not understand? Just because society has fallen doesn’t mean that basic consent is out the damn window!” And he promptly slammed the door in their face. These people were going to be the death of him if he were to be honest. 

—

Correction, they were going to be the death of themselves. It wasn’t anyone's fault that they encountered them a third time anyways. And it was just their luck that Tommy was with him. Tubbo was going to find whoever was in charge of fate and kill them. He’d do it slowly, but fate got him his family, so he would make the death as quick as possible.

It was lucky Tommy hadn’t noticed them yet, but it seemed luck was not on their side for long as the others noticed them as well. Tommy had taken to closing his nose the moment the others were close enough, but Tubbo could see Tommy’s turmoil. His pupils were dilated and he clung himself to Tubbo. It seemed being near made it better but Tommy really couldn’t be around other living people. 

With the others walking up to them, Tubbo made a quick and very stupid decision. He pulled out his gun and pointed it their way. At this point, Tommy had his mouth covered as well. “Don’t come any fucking closer! There’s a fucking reason why Tommy didn’t want to see you!” Wilbur glared at Tubbo and Techno was doing the exact same. But instead, he was pointing his crossbow at Tubbo. Phil, it seemed, had looked long and hard at Tommy, and had frozen in place at the sight of him.

“From what I can tell, he’s sick and terrified! He shouldn’t be out and about when he’s that damn pale!” Wilbur stepped closer and Tubbo had the gun cocked. Tommy held no emotional attachment to them, not anymore. And if Tommy got his memories back, he’d definitely be devastated, the fact remains that Tommy was going to regret it even more if he ate flesh. Especially in front of Tubbo. And Tubbo couldn’t risk losing Tommy.

“Wilbur,” Phil said. “I suggest you step back and take a long hard look at Tommy. I… I think I know exactly why Tubbo didn’t want you to see him. Why he’s safe around Tubbo, I don’t know.” 

Wilbur glared at Phil, “The hell you talking about old man! From what I can tell, Tommy’s extremely sick! Why the hell would I need to look for more!” Another step towards them, and Tommy snapped. He lunged towards Wilbur, and it took all of Tubbo's strength to keep Tommy back. Wilbur, looking startled, stepped back. 

“I suggest you leave! I’ll explain later but leave the fucking area now! This is the exact reason Tommy didn’t want to interact with you!” Tommy was still trying to get out of his grasp, and Tubbo’s grip was loosening more and more. Techno, it seemed, was the only smart one of the group as he took hold of the other two, and dragged them away. The moment they were out of eyesight, Tommy calmed down, but he still seemed slightly out of it. “Let’s get you home big man. Today’s been a day.” Tommy nodded, holding tightly onto Tubbo, and really, he couldn’t blame him.

—

The room was silent after Tubbo explained to them the entire situation. Of Tommy going missing only to appear again as an undead, of Tommy seeming to be safe around him and their other husband. (He purposefully left out their kids. He didn’t want them getting leverage.) He talked about how when Tommy knew enough sign he explained that he had no memory of his past, and he talked about how Tommy had a pull towards them. And how Tommy didn’t feel another pull at all. 

He took in the regret, he took in the hurt looks, he took in the tears. They all sat there, and Tubbo knew that while Tommy had a family now, his last family lost someone so dear to them forever, while Tubbo got his husband back, those three, who were definitely Tommy’s family from their faces alone, lost their son to the disease that took over the world.