Chapter Text
Tommy wasn’t really the type to get caught up in drama at school. He flew under the radar for the most part, most people only knowing him as him as Wilbur and Techno’s golden haired, slightly annoying, but lovable, freshman brother. Wilbur being the leading man in their well loved theatre department, and Techno, co-captain of the football team, had given him a leg up when he had entered high school his freshman year.
But that was deteriorating quickly, as allegations spread quickly, and the blood drained from Tommy’s face as his older brother angrily confronted him about it.
“One of George’s paintings was defaced with a slur Tommy, and the same color spray paint cans were found in MY locker in the theatre. The same ones you used specifically to paint the set on your own time last week,” Wilbur hissed, “You’re the only one with my combination to my backstage locker, be honest with me.”
“I- Wil I didn’t- I would NEVER, you know me,” He glanced at Techno, who stood behind him, arms folded, a grim look on his face, “I’m am really happy for Dream and George, they’re a great couple. Not to mention, I’m a fuckin’ ally, I wouldn’t do that shit Will.”
Wilbur narrowed his glare at him, and then whipped around on his heel and left the room.
“Tech,” Tommy started, but his pink haired brother just shook his head, pursing his lips.
“I want to believe you Tommy,” He started, “But I’m not really sure what to think right now.”
The blond’s let out a shaky breath, tears filling his eyes. Techno just sighed and left the room, shutting the door behind him.
He had no idea who would do this. He hadn’t thought he’d made any enemies. He had done his best to be nice to everyone he met. Sure he was annoying sometimes, and loud. But that was just who he was.
Laying down, he dug around in a box that was on a shelf under his bedside table. It it sat a small stuffed cow that he hadn’t slept with since he was still a young kid. He had named it Henry.
He buried his face into Henry’s fluffy head and let the tears flow, gasping, achy sobs. Anxiety clawed at his chest, making him wonder what the next day was going to look like.
When he woke the next morning, his face was sticky with tears, and his hands shook.
He managed to shower most of the physical feeling off, but the residual panic and pain still felt like it was anchoring him to the floor.
His Dad was gone by the time he made it to the kitchen, and Wilbur’s anger seemed to only have grown worse over night. He didn’t speak a word to the blond, seeming to go as far as pretending the boy wasn’t even there at all.
Techno gave a few concerned looking glances, but also opted to say nothing.
“Techno let’s go, were going to be late.”
“Wait, I’m not done eating-“ Tommy started.
“Walk.” Wilbur stated, leaving no room for argument.
“Wil-“ Techno began.
“He can walk.”
“Oh,” Tommy whispered, staring down at his plate. “Okay.”
He ate his food quickly as his brothers left, knowing that he was going to be very late, if he didn’t leave soon, and he ran upstairs to get his shoes and backpack.
When he started his trek it looked like it was going to rain, but halfway through his walk, it began to come down, and he begrudgingly pulled up his hood, holding back tears. Today was already going badly at it was only seven forty five.
He made it through the doors at eight ten luckily, giving him enough time to go to his locker and throw his stuff inside-
The locker was roughly shut on his hand, and he felt a crunch, and fuck that was not good, not good at all. He stifled a yelp. He was spun around, and face to face with Dream, and behind him Sapnap.
“You think just because you’ve got two popular brothers you can do whatever the hell you want? Just say whatever the fuck you want about George?” Dream hissed, as more tears popped into Tommy’s eyes, and a grin spread across the senior’s face, “No wonder you leech off your brothers, you’re a terrible fucking person, and you can’t fucking do anything for yourself. Fuck you for pretending to support us. Fuck you, you stupid fucking runt. ”
Dream dropped him onto the floor, kicking him in the chest, and stalking off, as Sapnap glanced at him, a dark glare on his face.
Tommy curled in on himself, not caring that he was going to be late.
Eventually he stood and grabbed his stuff from his locker and limped to his first class, where he would usually meet Tubbo and Ranboo, but the two wouldn’t look at him. He sent them texts, that he knew they saw, but ignored, and he felt tears spring into his eyes.
He stopped them outside of the classroom, but Tubbo wouldn’t meet his eyes.
“Until everything is figured out, we can’t hang out anymore,” Tubbo told him, “I just don’t feel comfortable Tommy, I’m sorry.”
“I- I get it Tubzo,” he choked, not really getting it, but knowing it wasn’t okay to push when someone was setting boundaries.
“Same for me Tommy, I’m really sorry” Ranboo admonished, teary eyed, and Tommy wanted to throw up.
He was losing his two childhood friends at the same time, over something he hadn’t done, over something spread online.
Lunch was an affair that Tommy didn’t want to deal with, so he decided against eating, and ended up wandering the halls, and past the art wing. As he passed, he saw George sitting at one of the easels staring at the defaced painting and he flinched. Against his better judgement he entered the studio.
George turned, and caught his eye, and Tommy expected an angry glare, or a harsh get out.
He didn’t get that.
“Hi Toms,” was the soft greeting, and Tommy started to cry.
Sobs wracked his frame at the warm, welcoming tone, at the loving greeting that he hadn’t received in so long.
“Oh, buddy, come here,” George set down paint covered brushes and opened his arms for a hug, pulling the blonde boy in for an embrace. “It’s nothing to cry over, I’ll fix it, and if I can’t, I’ll paint over it and start over, no big deal.”
Tommy cried harder at that, injured fingers spasming as he tightened his grip on Georges sweatshirt.
“I know you didn’t do it, of course you didn’t,” George hummed, “And if anyone had taken the time to think, they’d know that if you go into tech office in the theatre department you can get all the combos to the theatre lockers. And I bet if they check the cameras, which I already asked the principal to do this morning, they’ll find out it wasn’t you for sure. Because you didn’t do it.”
Tommy shook his head, because of course not. No he’d never do that. George was his friend. Dream was his friend.
But it didn’t matter, because everyone hated him now, it didn’t matter, Tubbo hated him, Ranboo hated him, Dream and Sapnap hated him, and so did Techno and Wilbur. And George should too. He wasn’t sure why they should hate him, but they just should, because everyone else had left, so they just should all hate him. And he decided to voice this.
“Everyone hates me, my brothers hate me,” He sobbed into George’s chest, unaware of the others entering the studio.
He felt like he couldn’t breathe.
He couldn’t breathe.
He couldn’t fucking breathe.
Jack and Niki gave confused looks to George, as he held a sobbing freshman in his arms.
“They don’t hate you, they jumped to conclusions, and reacted to quickly with emotions rather than logic, and were unfair to you. Not that it’s okay, but it’s an explanation of their actions,” George told him, “Why don’t I take you to the nurse, so she can call Phil. You aren’t gonna get much done today like this.”
Tommy wanted to say no, but explaining this situation to Phil seemed like absolute hell.
But a hug from his dad, who likely wouldn’t judge, who would just hold him, and believe him when he said he didn’t do it, that sounded nice.
So he nodded.
George held his hand as they headed towards the office, and noticing the empty hallways, Tommy realized that class probably had already started, so he was missing it anyway.
Getting to the office, George led him in and the nurse asked a couple questions, bored like always, telling George that Tommy he was fine and that he could go back to class.
“I’m on my open period, so it’s fine, I can stay.”
“Fine, fine. Tommy you have another panic attack?”
“Yeah sort of,” He said, rubbing at his teary eyes. “Just need to go home I think.”
“I think you can go back to class after you’ve calmed down,” The nurse responded.
“It was bad,” The blond responded, “I need to talk to my dad.”
“I don’t think you do, I think you just need to relax for a bit.”
“Just let him call his dad,” George sighed, “I’ve been around the kid for a long time, and Phil knows how to deal with this stuff, so just call him.”
The nurse huffed, but sighed, and punched in the number on the phone.
“Yeah I’ve got Tommy here, had another panic attack.”
“…”
“I don’t think he needs to go home, but he wanted to call you.”
“…”
“In my opinion-“
“…”
“Mr. Craft I-“
“…”
“Alright I-“
“…”
“Alright see you soon Mr. Craft.”
“…”
“Your father is on his way,” The nurse muttered.
Tommy and George sat quietly for awhile, and the younger did some breathing exercises.
Phil showed up awhile later, and pulled Tommy into a tight hug.
“You doing okay mate?”
“I had a bad day,” Tommy admitted, “A really bad day.”
“I’ll see you later Toms,” George told him, “Text me if you need anything.”
“Thanks Gogy,” Tommy said, eyes growing wet again.
He held on to his dad’s hand as they left the school. Phil held on tightly as well, throwing concerned glances his way.
Tommy felt like he was young again, lost in a world to big for him, and he also felt like he was imploding at the same time and that nothing would ever be the same, and everything was terrible and imploding and the only things that would ever be okay were his dad and George.
As Tommy closed the car door, Phil noticed the black and blue, incredibly swollen hand.
“What happened?”
“Slammed my hand in my locker.”
“Lemme see,” Phil felt around, and at Tommy’s wince and audible his, set his jaw. “I’m taking you to the ER.”
“Why?”
“Might be fractured or broken. I’m not taking any risks.”
A couple X-rays later, revealing a few fractures in his hand, and a cast, they returned home. Tommy put on pajamas grabbed Henry, and plopped onto the couch. Phil came into the living room with blankets and turned on up, as Tommy curled into his side. He turned his phone on do not disturb for a few hours, and pretended like nothing existed outside of the living room.
He was safe inside of his bubble, if just for a little while.
Unknowingly, George in that time, recorded the camera footage showing some other freshman, with dark hair spray painting Georges painting. Proving Tommy’s innocence.
He sent it to the group chat, and made his boyfriend, and Tommy’s older brother’s feel incredibly stupid and dickish.
Tommy woke up later feeling a little better, but anxiety still weighed at him. The sun had set in the sky, and it seemed late, and the idea that his brothers might be home made his chest squeeze tightly. But he could smell food in the kitchen and his stomach rumbled, so he held onto Henry and wrapped the blanket around him and went into the kitchen.
He was met with his father, who looked like he was about to say some to his brothers, a disapproving expression on his face. Wilbur staring down at the floor, and Techno hand pressed to his forehead.
“Tommy! Sunshine!” Wilbur started, and Tommy winced, stepping backwards a bit. Wilbur’s face fell at the reaction. “God I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry sunshine, nothing I could say could make up for what happened.”
“Tommy, I’m sorry,” Techno told him, hand on the countertop, guilt seeming to cloud that ever monotone voice, “We never should have jumped to conclusions the way we did.”
“Um, yeah you shouldn’t have, that was fucked up,” Tommy said, “What changed your mind?”
“Um, well-“ Wilbur started.
“George showed you the footage from the security cams, right?” Tommy scoffed.
“We saw it, yeah.” Techno admitted.
“Right, so that’s what it took.” Tommy shook his head. “I’ve never given you a reason to distrust me, and yet you still need full proof for you to admit you were wrong.You still needed evidence that I wouldn’t spray paint a slur george’s painting. Cool, nice. Wonderful. I’m going to bed.”
As Tommy stalked out, Phil followed him out.
“Tommy, mate.”
“Yeah?” Tommy turned to face him, as his dad approached.
“I love you,” He pressed a kiss to his forehead, “I’m here when you need me, okay? I’ll leave some food in the fridge if you get hungry later.”
“Thanks Dadza, love you too.”
The next few weeks weren’t very good. Tommy was relatively alone. Ranboo and Tubbo had tried to come back, but Tommy had made the same message clear, that if they couldn’t trust him to be a decent human after years of knowing each other, then they needed time apart. He spent a lot of time with George, who was on a break from Dream, after finding out that the older boy had broken Tommy’s hand.
“Dream and I are getting back together,” George eventually said though.
And then Tommy didn’t really have anyone else.
And so he knocked on Wilbur’s door, one night when Techno was in there as well.
“I wanna fix shit.”
“Me too sunshine.”
“I do too Theseus.”
And later he sent a text to Ranboo and Tubbo.
Tommyinnit: I wanna be friends again
Tubzo: i missed you Tommy
Tubzo: please i do too
Ranboob: me too it hasn’t been the same
And finally
Dream: I should have apologized for this a long time ago but I’ve been a piece of shit, but I’m really fucking sorry for breaking your hand
Dream: and for everything else I said Tommy
Tommy: it’s not okay, but I forgive you
Tommy: your boyfriend is much cooler than you