Archive of Our Own ^beta

Summer of  1753 London, England

Word on the street was that they were letting anyone work in the factories, even if they preferred women and children with experience.

Tommy walked down the street of the market. He had been ten, but he still remembers exactly what had happened. It had been the summer of 1753 in England. Tommy considered himself a chief in all the nooks and crannies of London, but currently, he wanted to ask where the factory was located. 

He was homeless, like many kids were. It was early morning, so people had just started to get ready for the day. There were a couple vendors he could ask that would be nice enough to respond. His best bet would be with the baker, who always gave him the extra dough instead of completing the baker’s dozen.

He was headed there when his eye caught on something shiny. He was a street kid, he was trained for shiny. Tommy reached down into the dirt to pick it up, and wiped down the surface. The object was small, and a bright metallic white.

It was easily recognizable as a key, but it wasn’t a key he had seen before. Later on, he would realize that it was styled after a 21st century key. The key had carvings on either side of its head. On one, there was an engraving of a compass with the four cardinal directions. On the other was a clock without any numbers. 

The most interesting part was that as he moved the key, the hand of the compass moved as well. He wouldn’t be surprised if the hands of the clock ticked as well.

Tommy looked up and around the market. He walked around. Tommy could sell this key, but the owner of the pawnshop was mean. He would assume that Tommy stole it.

Maybe Tommy could find the owner of the key. He looked up again, scanning the actual shops instead of the stalls when his eye caught on a particularly average kick knacks shop.

Particularly average, other than the platinum white doorknob. Tommy rushed towards it.

He looked at the doorknob. It wasn’t one he’d seen before, but he was sure that the key he was holding wouldn’t fit it. But they were the same color, so Tommy slid the key into the lock.

(Later he would recognize the doorknob as a Victorian style doorknob).

With a little bit of struggle, Tommy twisted the key, and upon hearing a click, he turned the doorknob and walked inside.

Unlike the other people in the market, Tommy didn’t actually know who worked here. The building had always been there, but he just hadn’t bothered to check it out since the exterior had looked so bland.

The inside, however, wasn’t bland. There was stuff crowded into every corner. Swords lined the walls and a million different rugs carpeted the floor. The shelves were filled with wooden toys and kitchen utensils. This man must sell everything.

“Hello!” Tommy called out. “I have your bloody key. Keep better track of it next time.”

Tommy placed the key on the counter, having to reach on his toes to look over. He heard a crash from what he assumed was a back room. This man must be rich to not only have this much stuff, but also have a back room.

A tall brunette man came out, glaring around, confused, before he looked down at Tommy.

“How did you get in here?”

Tommy frowned. This guy was dumb. “Weren’t you listening?” he pointed at the key. “You lost your key.”

The man looked down at his counter. “That’s not my key.”

Tommy rolled his eyes and pointed at his door. “Then why does it fit your door, bitch?”

The man looked where Tommy was pointing, and quickly rushed behind his counter to his door. He glared back at Tommy. “What did you do to my bloody door?”

Tommy shrugged. “Why are you asking me?”

“Who even are you?” the man asked.

Tommy crossed his arms. “I just found your key to return it. It’s not my fault. I’m late to an interview.”

The man raised an eyebrow. “An interview?”

“To work in the factories.”

The man frowned. “You don’t need an interview. Just– can't you leave? I don’t want to deal with children right now.”

“I’m not a child.” Tommy protested, but he was still headed back out the door.

“Wait.” The brunette called out. “Take the key with you. Sell it or something. I’ll just get a new doorknob.”

“Have fun locking yourself out.” Tommy said, but he grabbed the key off the counter anyway. He opened the door and didn’t walk back out into the market.

Summer of 1794 Paris, France

Tommy had expected to walk out of the shop and into the market. He had expected to walk to the factory and get a job. He expected to finally get paid and be able to buy whatever he wishes.

None of those things happened. In fact, what he did walk out into was a neighborhood. Immediately, he felt a bout of dizziness, and he closed his eyes and breathed in for a couple seconds before orienting himself. He opened his eyes and took in the sight.

The houses were built differently than they were in London, most of them white with wooden accents. The streets were cobble, instead of the usual dirt, and even the air felt different. 

Tommy looked behind him. Just as he expected (or not), he saw a house, just like the others. The only difference was the doorknob on the door, which was identical to the one in that man’s shop.

He could go back in, but currently Tommy was walking down the steps and into the cobbled streets, eyes widened. He didn’t know what happened, why he was suddenly in someplace different. Had he been kidnapped?

Tommy saw a group of women wear slightly different clothing that was the usual and decided to go up to them. They weren’t speaking in English, but he hoped they’d be able to understand him.

Tommy tapped the woman wearing a green dress. “Excuse me?”

The woman looked down at him. “Bonjour puis-je vous aider?” She asked.

“Um. Can you tell me where I am?”

The woman looked back to her friends, before turning back to Tommy. In a thick accent, she asked. “Hello. My name is Beau. Who are you?”

“Tommy. Can you tell me where I am?” He repeated.

The woman– Beau– nodded. “You're in the third arrondissement.”

Tommy nodded. “What does that mean?”

Beau looked confused, before answering, “where are your parents?”

Tommy rolled his eyes. He hated how repetitive this question was. “Where is the market?”

“Are your parents merchants?” Beau deduced. “Rather bad time to be an English merchant here.”

Tommy furrowed his brows. “Why?”

Beau sighed. She said something in her language to her friends, and they all started walking and talking amongst themselves. Beau and Tommy walked behind them. “I don’t think there’d be much business with all that’s going on. Come, your parents are probably at Place de la Revolution. It’s like a town’s square except… you know. That’s where we’re headed right now.”

Tommy nodded, following her. He didn’t know much about business, but he supposed he should, if he wanted to work in a factory. He didn’t ask about it though. He just looked around and marveled. None of the buildings here looked like they did in London.

When they reached town’s square, Tommy decided this looked nothing like London, because in the center of town's square was a contraption he’d never seen before.

“Am I in London?” he asked on a whim.

Beau looked at him weirdly. “You are in Paris. Why would you be in London?”

Tommy shrugged. “A joke.” Internally, he was screaming. Who took him to Paris? Was it the angry brunette man?

Tommy watched as a man was led up the steps to the contraption. “Who’s that?” He asked.

Beau had a frown when she said, “Robespierre.” She muttered what was most likely a curse in her own language, which was probably French, considering he was in Paris.

“Is he gonna be okay?” Tommy asked. He looked like a criminal, so he wasn’t too invested in what happened, but he wouldn’t like to watch an execution.

“Is he okay?” Beau mocked. “I think he deserves a taste of his own medicine.”

Tommy didn’t know what his own medicine was, but he watched as the man with a bruised face was led into the odd contraption. He stuck his head in a carving in the wood, and Tommy caught the glint of metal a little more than four meters above the contraption. 

Tommy knew that that was a blade. He watched as a sack was placed over Robespierre’s head. A man stepped in front of the machine, throwing up his arms and yelling, “Viva la revolution!”

The crowd repeated the cheer. The man stepped back just in time to give the crowd a full view as a rope was let go and the blade fell, cleanly slicing Robesperrie’s head into a basket. The crowd cheered as his body went limp.

All Tommy could do was stare.

Where was he? He had thought that Paris was the center of new ideas, center of the lumieres, as he heard one stall man say it.

It didn’t matter that he was supposed to be in London. He knew some public hangings took place, but this. This was nothing he’d seen before.

There were much more people here than there were back in London. And the goddamn cheering, and there was so much blood. He felt some of the dizziness return. Tommy looked up at Beau, who had her eyes on the contraption, a satisfied smile on her face.

“What was that?” Tommy yelled.

Beau turned towards him. “Does blood make you squeamish? Sorry, I should have asked.”

Tommy turned away from the thing onto Beau’s unbloodied face. “I– what was that? That thing.”

“Oh. I forgot you didn’t have guillotines. They’re a pretty new invention, invented to make death easier for criminals. He didn’t feel a thing, I promise.”

Tommy nodded slowly, his mind slowly repeating the way the man’s body went limp. He needed to get out of here.

“Wait!” Beau called. She ran after him. Tommy sped until he reached an alley, which he slipped through. But Tommy did not know Paris like he knew London.

The alley was a dead end.

He didn’t know why, but his breath was suddenly growing quicker. Tears stung his eyes as the splattering of blood repeated in his mind over and over again.

Beau had caught up to him. “Wait, Tommy.” She said in her accent. “What’s wrong?”

Tommy looked at her. What was wrong? Tommy would sure like to know too. “Why did you bring me there?”

Beau frowned. “I thought you’d like to see it. The ‘reign of terror’ as some people called it. It just ended.”

“I don’t even know what’s happening.” Tommy cried. “I walk out of some guy’s shop and suddenly I’m in Paris. And there was so much– so much blood.”

Beau kneeled in front of him, putting her hands on his shoulders. “What do you mean?”

“I mean I just– it was like I magically appeared in Paris. I don’t–”

Beau looked him over. “I– maybe? You– who are your parents?”

“I’m an orphan.” Tommy told her none too kindly.

“So there’s a chance.”

He crossed his arms. “A chance for what?”

Beau bit her lip. “You have to promise not to tell anyone. But some people aren’t… human.”

“I’m human.” Tommy insisted. “So are you.”

Beau smiled sadly. “No, I’m not. I’m a pixie, actually.”

Tommy didn’t know what that was, so he just said, “Be who you are.”

Beau smiled again. “I think you have some magic blood in you. Maybe you can teleport.”

Tommy’s eyes widened. “I can teleport?”

“Yeah. Maybe. It might be bad luck that you came to Paris.”

“Why?”

“Do they not have newspapers or gossip in London?” Beau asked. “I was referring to the revolution.”

“What revolution?” Tommy asked.

Beau dropped her hands from Tommy’s shoulders and stood up. “The french revolution. It’s not like you’re in America.”

“America?”

“Vous ne savez pas grand-chose, n'est-ce pas?” She muttered. “The new world?”

Tommy nodded, finally understanding something. “You mean the colonies.”

Beau laughed. “You sound like my parents. They still call it the colonies.”

“But they are colonies.”

“Technically, not anymore. Not for, like almost twenty years ago now.”

“Why?”

“Seriously, how little do you know? The American Revolution ring any bells?”

Tommy winced. “When did that happen?”

“I– like it started in seventeen seventy-five or six. I forgot.”

Tommy freezes. She– she said–

1775?

So to change the subject, Tommy just asks, “Why do you know english?”

“My mother was english. Do you need to go somewhere?”

Tommy nods. “Can you take me back to that place you found me? The third arr-arron–”

“Arrondissement. Yeah, I can.”

During the walk there, Tommy askes Beau a bunch of questions. If she found them strange, she didn’t comment on them.

He found out that she was seventeen, seven years older than him. He found out that the colonies held a rebellion against Britain and actually won. He found out that France really was the worst place to be right now.

He tried to not think about when he was. 

When they reached the place Tommy had exited the shop into, he thanked Beau.

“It’s all good. Can you handle yourself?”

Tommy nodded. He’d been taking care of himself for as long as he could remember. “Bye.” He waved goodbye.

“Au revoir.” Beau replies. Then, she was gone.

Tommy climbs up the steps to the house he was first in front of when he appeared here. It was a picture perfect house to all the rest, except for its odd platinum white doorknob.

Which matched his key.

Tommy slipped the key into the hole and opened the door. He walked in, closing the door behind him as he looked around.

It was a pretty homey house. Well furnished, looking like the occupant had never struggled for money. Perfectly comfortable.

“Hello?” Tommy called out.

He heard a crash come from a room. Tommy followed the sound into the kitchen, where the same man that owned the knick-knack shop in London was picking up a loaf of bread from where it fell on the floor.

“D'où viens-tu?”

“I have your key.” Tommy said. He felt like he was repeating something.

The man immediately switched to a perfect English accent. “Where did you– have we met?”

Tommy nodded. “In London. Remember. I gave you this key and you said you didn’t want it.”

The man stares at him. “You– I was in London twenty years ago. You're barely five.”

Tommy crosses his arms. “I’m ten.”

Recognition finally lights in the man’s eyes. “You’re the kid that messed with my doorknob.”

Tommy thought that he put up a big fuss to only end up keeping the doorknob. “I mean, you still kept it.”

“What do you mean?” The man set the bread on the counter and went into his living room, zeroing in on the door. “What’d you do to the bloody door?”

Tommy huffed. “You always say the same stuff over and over again.”

The man looked like he was about to say something, before he paused, confusion covering his features. “Wait.”

“Yeah?”

“You– you look the same.”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

Wilbur looks Tommy up and down, not too dissimilar from the way Beau did it earlier. “Forty years had passed, and you look exactly the same.”

“Forty?” Tommy squeaked. That was more than he thought.

“How did you get here?”

“I just left your shop and popped up here.”

The man stares at him for a minute, before shaking his head. “I’m not going to deal with this. Out of my house. Now.”

Tommy frowned. “Why? It’s all murder out there.”

The man snorted, dragging Tommy out the door. “That’s the French for you.”

“Wait! What’s your name?”

“Not telling you, gremlin child.”

And then the man threw Tommy out of his house and slammed the door in his face.

He didn’t think of the fact that the man’s appearance hadn’t changed either.

Summer of 64 A.D. Rome, Ancient Rome

Tommy immediately felt the change in atmosphere.  He stumbled a little. He was dizzier than before. The heat was stifling and the ground around him was hard dirt, though there was a cobblestone path. All around him were buildings made of stone and plaster.

He looked behind him, at the house with a very heavy looking blue door. It was worn down, covered in dirt. Standing out like a sore thumb, above all, was the platinum white doorknob.

Tommy was aware that he was… that something was happening. He had gone to Paris so quickly and now he was here (wherever here was). It was hard to imagine that he had been on London streets just that morning.

Tommy didn’t want to look back at the door. The man had been the only common thing between London and Paris. 

Tommy was skipping places. Transporting in a blink. Teleportation, as Beau called it. But he was also teleporting through time, not just places. Time teleportation.

No, that sounded stupid. He’ll figure it out later (and he does, when he sees it in science fiction books almost 1,800 years after where he is now, and he effectively names it time traveling).

Tommy walks along the cobblestone paths. The longer he walked, the hotter it seemed to get. When Tommy crested a hill, he finally figured out why.

Because the city below him was on fire.

It covered more than half of the city, and it didn’t seem to slow. Tommy had never thought that fire was loud, but from up on the hill, he could hear it roaring and crackling. And he could hear screaming, but he elected to ignore that part.

In a pretty idiotic decision on his part, Tommy rushed down the hill. He didn’t get too close to the fire, but it was still there, the heat was still there, beating down his back.

Tommy ran without a destination. He didn’t get too close, but it felt like wherever he turned, the fire was there. He was starting to regret coming down, but Tommy was full of impulse decisions.

Tommy was trying to run away before he got too deep into the city when he heard a scream. Tommy turned, looking around. 

He turned towards the fire, seeing someone trying to get out. They were on the ground, hands over their face as they screamed in pain.

Tommy dimly noted that they were dressed pretty differently than him, but that was the least of his worries. 

“Hey!” he called out.

The person in the fire looked up at the sound, rushing as close as they could without nearing the fire. It was a boy, Tommy thought. A bit older than him. 

“Jump to me.” Tommy called out. The boy looked down at the ground, which was covered in smoldering ashes. He looked back up at Tommy.

“Are you sure?” He screamed. Tommy nodded. “Just jump over the ashes and fire. It won’t hurt too bad.”

Tommy couldn’t guarantee that, but he wants to help this boy. Tommy dimly notes that he was barefoot. That wasn’t ideal.

Tommy holds out his arms, and the boy jumps to him, toppling him over. Tommy quickly scrambles up from the hot ground, helping the boy up too.

“What’s your name?” Tommy asks, breathless.

“Tu-Tubbo.” The boy says. He stands up and Tommy sees that half his face is covered in a red burn. The skin was peeling off and bleeding. It would scar, he was sure of it.

But the injury isn’t the only thing that was different about Tubbo. On his head were two curved ram horns, albeit smaller that they could be.

“Let’s get out of here.” Tommy says. Tubbo nods, wincing.

Tommy and Tubbo scramble out of the burning city. It was difficult, with many twists and turns, but they finally made it to the hill Tommy had come from. They started to climb up it.

Breathing heavily and coughing from the smoke, Tommy states the obvious. “You have horns.”

Tubbo coughs. “Yeah. I usually hide them but…”

Tommy nods. He supposed that since pixies exist, maybe so do whatever Tubbo is. Tommy had an inkling that what he was doing( time jumping, no, that still wasn’t right) was also magic.

“How do you have horns, Tubbo?”

Tubbo follows Tommy onto the cobblestone path. “My dad was fae. Hated the fae, married a human. Hello, I am their love child.”

Tommy snorts. “Yeah, okay. Can you tell me where I am?”

“I thought you were leading the way?”

Tommy shook his head. “Can you tell me the city and country? And maybe the year?”

“Jesus. Okay. You are in Rome. In, uh, Rome. Rome, Rome. It’s also year sixty four. Since Jesus came.”

Tommy’s eyes widened. “You saw Jesus?” 

Tubbo laughed. “No, but my grandpa probably did.”

“Cool.”

In a smaller voice, Tubbo added, “Probably saw him after he was crucified.”

Tommy burst out laughing. They talked and walked towards the building Tommy had popped up in front of.

“Is this your house?’

Tommy shook his head. “I think– I don’t know who lives here exactly but– it's hard to explain.”

Tubbo shrugged. This time, instead of unlocking the door and walking right in, Tommy knocked. The door was really heavy, so he hoped the sound would carry through.

The door opened, and Tommy was met with the now familiar face of the man in the shop. “Hello?” Tommy asked.

The man ignored Tommy. He looked at Tubbo’s face, which was covered in blood and ash. “Are you alright?”

“I can’t really feel it right now.”

The man rushed them inside and into what Tommy presumed was a living room. He sat Tubbo down on a couch. “My name is Wilbur. I’m going to clean you up while your friend tells me what happened.”

Tommy watches as Wilbur grabs a bucket of water and a rag. Slowly, he cleans up Tubbo’s face. Tubbo doesn’t look too good. The second time Wilbur dips the rag in the water and touches his face, he screams in pain. Wilbur keeps going.

Tommy can see tears fall down Tubbo’s face. He has seen wounds, seen people stabbed on the streets after a scuffle, but he had never seen someone treat their wounds. No one had trusted him enough to let him see.

“Done.” Wilbur said. “I’m going to put this salve on you now.” Tubbo nodded, his muscles relaxing. While Wilbur is unscrewing the can of the salve, however, Tommy sees Tubbo's eyes roll back and his eyelids flutter shut.

Wilbur frowns and carefully applies the salve before laying Tubbo down on the couch. He turns to Tommy.

“Quid accidit?” He asks.

Tommy didn’t understand. It was like Wilbur just switched languages whereas he’d been speaking English before.

“I’m sorry?” Tommy asks.

Wilbur turns confused, before looking back at Tubbo and his horns. Understanding dawns his features. “Suspicor exspectandum habebimus donec evigilet.” He mutters.

“I’m Tommy.” Tommy says. Wilbur doesn’t bother paying attention. Tommy dimly recalls the fact that he is in ancient Rome, where people spoke latin. Why had he understood Tubbo?

Wilbur gestures for Tommy to follow him, and they walk to the kitchen. Wilbur points at a seat at a table and Tommy takes it while he watches Wilbur pull out a loaf of bread and some cheese.

He watches in silence as Wilbur preps three sandwiches, placing one in front of Tommy. He takes it, sniffing quickly before taking a bite.

Wilbur was definitely different than when he saw him in Paris or in England. He was… nicer, to say the least. Both times when Tommy had barged in on him, Wilbur had told him to get out.

Maybe it was the fact that Tommy knocked. Or maybe he wanted to help Tubbo. 

Dimly, Tommy realized that this Wilbur hadn't met him before. According to Tubbo, he was years in the past. It was disorienting how much had changed.

Wilbur definitely wasn’t human. Now Tommy knows that the fae and pixies are real, even if Beau didn’t show him proof that she was a pixie. Maybe Wilbur was like that, something that allowed him to live for so long.

Tommy finished his sandwich and followed Wilbur out into the living room. He put Tubbo’s sandwich on a table and opened a can of what looked to be dried leaves. He waves them under Tubbo’s nose.

Tommy didn’t know the purpose, but then, Tubbo groggily opened his eyes.

“You alright?” Tommy asked.

“Passed out from the pain.” Tubbo tells him. He looks at Wilbur. “Thank you.”

Wilbur nods. “You're welcome.”

Tommy raises his eyebrows. “Can you speak English again?”

“English?” Wilbur askes. Tubbo groans.

“No, that’s just me.” Tubbo says. “Communication is my thing. Though I’ve never heard of English.”

“Communication is your thing?” Tommy asks, ignoring the part about English.

Tubbo sits up with the help of Wilbur, wincing. “I can make everyone near me understand what the other is saying perfectly. Not every fae could do this, but I’m special since I’m half fae. Wilbur thinks we’re all speaking Latin while you think we’re speaking– English, was it?”

Tommy shrugs. He was way out of his comfort zone. 

“Can you tell me what happened now?” Wilbur asked.

“Rome’s on fire.” Tubbo said. “I dunno how it happened, but I bet I know who’s watching it burn.”

Wilbur sighed. “No one would play a fiddle because of death.”

“I can think of one person.” Tubbo says bitterly.

“Excuse me.” Tommy says, not understanding what they were talking about. “I’m confused.”

“Who are you?” Wilbur asked.

“I’m Tommy, this is Tubbo. Sorry we intruded, but you are the only person I slightly know here.”

“Where did you come from?” Wilbur asked.

Tommy paused. He could tell them. Tommy thinks that he really doesn’t like Rome. Too hot, though that might be biased.

“What if I tell you that I’m from the future?”

Wilbur tilted his head. “You look pretty human to me.”

Tubbo nods. “You can’t get more human than him. I can smell it. But how he knew to go to a warlock’s house was beyond me.”

“Warlock?” Tommy asks. Wilbur shrugs.

“Minor detail. What do you mean, you're from the future?”

Tommy pulls the key from his pocket. “I don’t exactly know. I was on my way to work in a factory, when I found this key. So I look around, and find a shop with a matching doorknob. You,” Tommy points at Wilbur, “owned the shop. You didn’t want the key back so I left and ended up in France like- forty years in the future.”

“France?”  Tubbo asks.

“A country. And then–”

“What’s a country?”

Tommy pauses in confusion before shaking his head and continuing his explanation. “I pop up in front of a house with the same doorknob you actually have right now. And then after some stuff, I go into the house, where you live, and you kick me out. And I showed up here.”

Wilbur nods, and Tubbo starts to drift off. Tommy just stands there awkwardly.

“How about you stay here– Tubbo, do you have someone waiting for you?”

“My house burned down, but my parents were on their way to Pompeii. They weren’t coming back for another two weeks.”

“Then you're welcome to stay here. We’ll… we’ll figure something out.”

Tommy feels the dizziness return full force as he passes out.

________

The next couple weeks with Wilbur was probably the most fun he’d had since he could remember. The city had simmered down after three days, but Wilbur’s house was far enough away that no one really bothered them.

While Tubbo healed, Wilbur and Tommy tried to figure out the rules of his time warping. (still not right)

“Every magical item has its laws. We just need to figure it out based on what has happened so far.”

They had a couple theories. For one, Wilbur had apparently said that his doorknob wasn’t always that platinum white color. That had changed when Tommy knocked on his door.

The key and the doorknob were obviously connected. Wilbur was a warlock, so with the perks of being immortal, he could also harness magic. He apparently saw some sort of connection between the objects.

Tommy also looked different than he remembered. When he said this to Wilbur, maybe as some sort of clue that could help them, he asked how old Tommy was.

Tommy told him he was ten, but then Wilbur did some cool hand magic thing and told Tommy that he was actually twelve.

It was still too soon, and Tommy had only traveled twice now, so it was hard to figure out the rules of the aging thing.

Other than trying to figure out what the rules to key were and slowly accepting his new time jumping reality(which, cool) Tommy was also getting to know Wilbur better.

Tommy had never had someone who would provide food, he always had to fend for himself. Tubbo (who was actually the same age as him) would run around the house inventing games. Most of the time, Wilbur joined them.

“Who took my spellbook?” Wilbur yelled from across the house. Tommy and Tubbo giggled from where they were hiding in the kitchen.

“Go, hide inside.” Tubbo told him. His burns were healing slowly, and from what Tubbo had told him, they still hurt. Faeries were resilient, though, Wilbur told him. Too bad Wilbur didn’t have any healing magic.

Tommy scrambled into the cabinet full of pots and pans, placing them in front of him. He hid the book under his shirt. Tubbo quickly closed the cabinet door just as Tommy saw Wilbur’s feet come through.

“Ah! Tubbo, where’s Tommy?”

“I don’t know.” Tommy heard him say. Tommy put his hand over his mouth to muffle his laughter.

“What’s behind you, Tubbo?”

“Uhh… a cabinet?”

“Okay,” Wilbur said in a tone that meant trouble. “Can I look inside? I’m really hungry.”

He felt a thump on the cabinet door and Tommy had imagined Tubbo putting his body against it. “No you can’t. Tommy isn’t here, he’s in the garden.”

“Can you go check for me?”

Tubbo giggled. “But come with me.”

“I will.” 

Tommy heard the two pairs of footsteps walk farther away before one of them heavily ran towards him. The cabinet door flew open and Tommy tried to hide behind the pans.

“There’s nothing there!” Tubbo yelled. 

Wilbur looked inside, moving a pan here in there. “I think you’re right. But I forgot when I bought a shiny gold pan.”

Wilbur’s hand reached out and touched the top of Tommy’s head. “Oh.” He made a surprised sound when Tommy started giggling again. “I didn’t know my pans were fluffy.”

“Stop.” Tommy made out through his laughter. “You know it’s me.”

Wilbur gasped, ruffling his hair. “It can talk.”

Tommy climbed out of the cabinet with the help of Wilbur. “Where’s my book?” He asked.

Tommy pulled the book from under his shirt. “This one?”

Wilbur nodded, but before he could grab it, Tommy tossed the book to Tubbo who immediately ran away.

“Oh no you don’t.” Wilbur said, running after Tubbo with a smile on his face. Tommy followed them, holding onto the back of Wilbur’s shirt to slow him down, though it didn’t do any good.

________

“Tommy, Tubbo,” Wilbur called out. “Can you go see if the dormus across from ours has any eggs? Take some money with you, he’s really stingy.”

Tommy rushed in, grabbing the money from Wilbur. He found Tubbo at the front door, slipping his sandals on. “Are you going to make something?” Tubbo asked.

“Why would I make something?” Wilbur asked.

“You need eggs.” Tommy pointed out. 

Wilbur’s eyes twinkled. “It’s a surprise. Now go get them.”

Tubbo pushed open the door and Tommy followed him out. “What do you think the surprise is? I think it’s cake.”

Tommy didn’t respond. When Tubbo turned back, Tommy wasn’t anywhere to be seen. 

“Tommy!” He called out. He didn’t respond. Tubbo rushed back to Wilbur’s house. “Wil!”

“What happened?” Wilbur asked, catching onto Tubbo’s distressed tone.

“I can’t find Tommy. He’s gone.”

With some cold realization, Wilbur’s face fell. “Tubbo…” he started. “I think Tommy traveled.”

“He’s gone.”

Winter of 1347 Hamburg, Germany

Tommy thought he was still in Rome, for a second. He was so wrapped up in the moment that it took him a few moments to orient himself. He was tired and a little dizzy.

He had been running out the door, so Tommy stumbled down the steps of a house that wasn’t there before.

The very air felt different. It wasn’t the stifling heat of Rome, rather it was colder, much colder. There was a lingering sickness in the air, and Tommy looked around him to see where he was.

There was snow on the ground everywhere, so it must have been winter. The houses were not like any he’d seen before. A lot of them were made of brick, while the smaller ones resembled the ones in France.

Tommy hugged himself, rubbing his arms. He wasn’t exactly dressed for the cold weather. Walking down the road, he looked around for any indication towards where he was.

The streets were practically empty, but Tommy did see some bodies huddled in the alleyways. Sometimes, an occasional man would hurry down the road, with a mask that resembled a bird.

Tommy decides his best bet was to go back to Wilbur. He had been there every time he teleported, so he would probably be there now.

Tommy walked back to the house he had appeared in front of. Just as he predicted, the platinum white door knob was shining back at him.

Tommy fumbles for the key with freezing fingers and slips it into the lock and hurries inside.

“Hello?” He calls out, smiling when he hears a crash from the kitchen. Was this going to happen every time he traveled?

Wilbur comes rushing into the living room, stopping when he catches sight of Tommy. “Hallo?”

Wilbur obviously didn’t recognize him, so Tommy pulls out the key. “I’m Tommy. This is the key.” Tommy didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know if when he was happened before or after England and France. 

Wilbur stares at him for a moment before his face splits into a smile. “Tommy?”

Tommy nods. “Can you tell me where I am?”

Wilbur nods. “You're in Hamburg, still in the Roman empire. It's the year 1347.”

Tommy nods, though he doesn’t really care for where he is, just when. So this was after Rome, but before England.

“Come into the kitchen.”

Tommy follows Wilbur into the kitchen. Sitting at the table is a pink-haired woman in a brown cloak. He didn’t know people could have pink hair.

“This is my friend Niki, she’s an elf. Niki, meet Tommy. He’s… he’s human.” Tommy looks at Niki again, and this time, he can see that her ears are pointed. 

“Why’d you sound so unsure?” Niki says, amused. Tommy takes a seat across from Niki.

“Because he can go through different times. And Tommy, I think I’ve figured it out.”

Tommy perks up. “Figured what out?”

“How you time travel. It isn’t random.”

Tommy waits for him to continue, but Wilbur just gets started on making tea. “Well how does it bloody happen, then?”

Wilbur laughs. “Yesterday, when I was going outside, I noticed that my doorknob had transformed, but I hadn’t connected it to you yet. I think that I’m connected to the doorknob, so it shows up wherever I am. And your key is connected to the doorknob.”

“Then when do I travel?”

“You said that whenever you leave my house you end up somewhere different?”

Tommy nods.

“That’s it. When you leave my house, you travel.”

That seemed simple enough. That also meant that he would have to stay indoors if he wanted to stay in a time period.

“Wait.” Niki says. “Let me get this straight. You can jump years?”

Tommy ignores her. “What does an elf do?”

Niki smiles. “I’m connected with nature. All elves are different, but I’m a moon elf. I’m strongest on the full moon and I can go invisible.”

“Cool. Can you do anything right now?”

Niki takes a jug of water, and without touching it, the water rises from the jug and spins in the air before spilling back in. “The moon can control the tides, so I can do a little bit of water magic. Not as much as a water elf, though.”

Wilbur nods, saying something in a language that Tommy doesn’t recognize. Niki nods back. “I have to go now. Nice meeting you.”

“You too,” Tommy says, just to be polite.

Tommy sits, swinging his legs on the chair. He’s just realized that even though he’d just seen Wilbur a moment ago, Wilbur hasn’t seen him for how many years.

“What happened to Tubbo,” he asks, because Tubbo had been a really good friend. “Did his burns heal?”

Wilbur turns to Tommy, his smile almost painful. “They left a scar. But yeah, they healed.”

Tommy nods, looking around. “Where is he now?”

“Tommy, it's been a long time.” Wilbur takes a seat next to him. “Almost thirteen hundred years. Fae can live for a long time, but Tubbo was half fae.”

Unprompted tears rise to his face. “What happened?” He asks, because it is very rare that people die of old age.

Wilbur puts an arm on his shoulder, maybe as comfort, he didn’t know. “After you left, Tubbo stayed with me until his parents got back and got a house. I always like to keep touch with anyone magical in the vicinity, so me and Tubbo always talked.”

“He left Rome, after he got a bit older. He visited his parents from time to time, but one day he didn’t come back and his father told me he got shot in the woods on the run from hunters that didn’t like the fae.”

Tommy shakes silently. “What happened to the surprise?” He chokes out.

Wilbur pulls him in for a hug and Tommy holds on tightly. “What surprise, sunshine?”

“The surprise. The one you needed the eggs for.”

“Oh.” Wilbur says, and his voice sounds broken. “I was– I did make a fig cake. I wish you could have tried it.”

Tommy cries and Wilbur holds him close. They stay like that for a while.

________

“Why are you always moving?” Tommy asks. Every time he’d traveled, he’d always appear in a different place.

Tommy was watching as Wilbur made some soup. He was stirring the stick with his magic after Tommy started getting tired. He’s been here for two days now.

Wilbur spoke from where he was chopping carrots. “You don’t expect me to stay in the same place? It gets boring and soon, people start realizing that you don’t age.”

Tommy nods. That made sense. “Why did you come here, then?”

“I haven’t been here before. Usually, I’ll revisit places I like, but it's always good to try something new.” He poured the carrots into the soup. Tommy marveld at the abundance of vegetables he seemed to have.

“When were you born?”

“Athens, actually. Uh, 369 B.C.”

“You’re old.” Tommy tells him. Wilbur chuckles.

“I am. I’ve met older.”

Tommy imagined it would be cool to see everything that happens in history. He watches as Wilbur starts chopping celery. Before Tommy can stop himself, he blurts out, “how do you have so much food?”

“What’d you mean?”

“Like,” Tommy gestures to the pot on the stove. “You have onions and celery and carrots and broccoli. They were just there, in your icebox.”

“Being immortal means you have time to get money.”

“Why do you always wear a mask when you go outside? Are you scared of poor people?”

Wilbur bursts out laughing. “No, there’s a disease going on. The black plague. I don’t want to catch it.”

“But you wouldn’t die.”

“I would still get sick, though. And before you ask another question, go do something.”

“Like what?” On the streets he was never busy, and in the month he’d spent in Rome, he had Tubbo to keep him company. But Tubbo wasn’t here.

“Read a book.”

“I-I don’t want to.”

“You can’t read.”

“I can read!” Tommy sputters. “It’s just boring.”

Wilbur sighs. “All right. I’ll just leave this to cook.”

“What do you usually do for fun?” He asked him.

“I play my lute.”

Tommy’s eyes widened. “You play music?”

Wilbur shrugged. “I have a lot of hobbies.”

“Can I listen?”

________

Wilbur hasn’t played in a while, but he takes out the lute and sits on the couch. Tommy squeezes in right next to him.

Wilbur plays something simple. It wasn’t like all of the other church music, this was something Wilbur made for his own taste. To Tommy, it apparently hadn’t mattered. He just hums along. It makes Wilbur smile at the sheer energy the kid has.

It gets tiring, sometimes, being immortal. That’s why he’s always befriending supernaturals, even with the promise of their death in the future.

But according to Tommy’s power, he’d be there throughout Wilbur’s history. He’s definitely warmed up to him in Rome, from what he can remember.

A couple minutes after Wilbur had started playing, Tommy starts nodding off. Wilbur continues to play. Everytime Tommy looks like he was about to fall asleep, he startles awake.

Maybe after the fifth time it happened, Wilbur stops playing to put an arm around Tommy and draw him close.

“You can sleep.”

That seemed to be all the incentive he needed, because he then rested his head on Wilbur’s chest, clutching his shirt tightly.

This kid was going to be the death of him.

________

Wilbur had made enough soup to last them three days, and it was on the third day, eating dinner, when Tommy heard a knock on the door.

Wilbur stood up. “I’ll get it. Stay here.”

Wilbur walks over to the kitchen, and Tommy gets up, peeking at what was happening from behind a doorless door frame.

There were two people at the door. One was a bearded man with expensive looking clothing and the other was one of those weird people with the bird masks.

They were speaking in a language Tommy didn’t understand, but Tommy could tell Wilbur wasn’t happy. Nonetheless, Wilbur gave the bearded man a couple coins and let the masked man check his face and arms for something Tommy didn’t know.

Wilbur and the beard man were deep in conversation, while the masked person scanned the house. Tommy hid further behind the door frame, but then the Mask tapped on Beard’s shoulder and said something.

Wilbur moved in front of the door, but Beard pushed him aside and walked up to Tommy. Tommy backed away but he held his arm tightly and dragged him to the door.

He said something to Wilbur, and Wilbur went to go give the man more coins but he shook his head. Belatedly, he realized that the man was going to drag him out of the house.

“Wilbur! He’s going to-”

Wilbur walked up to the man and punched his face, trying to take Tommy off him. They were still yelling something Tommy didn’t know.

Mask came up behind Tommy when Wilbur and Beard were busy fighting. Tommy squirmed, trying to kick him.

“Wilbur-” he yelled. “Get off of me.”

Mask pulled Tommy outside and Wilbur looked horrified as he realized what was happening.

“Tom-”

But he was already gone.

Spring of 867 A.D. Japan

“Wilbur!” Tommy screamed out, but he was no longer in Hamburg.

Tommy looked around him in frustration. This was so stupid. And this place was weird. His body was tired with the usual dizziness he now associated with traveling. He wanted to cry.

There was clean, cool, grass beneath his feet and off to the side he could see the ocean. A small cottage with a design he’s never seen before sits there, cherry tree nearby.

And that mocking platinum white doorknob.

Tommy walks into the direction of the ocean, only a couple meters away from the house. A short drop, maybe six feet high, with large rocks littering the bottom. The waves crash against those rocks, some big enough to spray Tommy from where he’s standing.

He takes his key and throws it out as far as he can.  This looked like a good place to stay, anyways.

Tommy walks back to the cottage. “Wilbur!” He yells, not bothering with knocking on the door. If he can’t leave the house, he won’t go in in the first place.

Tommy watches as the door hurriedly opens up. Wilbur stands there, scanning Tommy up and down.

He starts to say something before Tommy cuts him off. “Speak English, prick.”

Wilbur furrows his brows. “Tommy?”

Tommy nods. “I- I just came from Hamburg.”

Wilbur walks out of the house. “Hamburg?”

Tommy sits down on the grass, and Wilbur follows him. “Just tell me where the fuck I am.”

“A coast of Japan. It’s year 867.”

“Oh.” Tommy said. All of this time travel stuff was confusing. “Hamburg didn’t happen yet, then.”

“I guess not. I missed you.”

Tommy looks up at that. He’d just seen Wilbur, but he supposed it had been a long time for Wilbur. He still couldn’t grasp that part. “Anyone would miss me.” Tommy says.

“You’ve grown. I can tell. Thirteen’s a big number.”

Tommy perks up. “I’m thirteen now?” He did feel a little taller. Just a month ago he’d been ten.

“What happened in Hamburg?”

“Some people came and tried to take me out of the house. Then I came here.”

“Tommy… I need to tell you about Tub–”

Tommy stops him. “I know,” he says in a quiet voice.

Wilbur walks over and pulls Tommy into a hug. “How long can you stay here for?”

Tommy hugs him back. “I don’t know. I hope it’s a long time.”

________

Tommy tells Wilbur that he doesn’t want to risk entering his house in case he leaves it. So Wilbur builds Tommy a bedroom separate from the house with his magic. It seemed to work, with Tommy constantly entering and leaving.

They spend most of the day either outside or in Tommy’s bedroom. A lot of time is spent on the beach, jumping the waves. 

Tommy seems to find peace for the first time in a long time.

Almost a week after Tommy had started getting comfortable, he heard hoofs coming towards them a bit after the sun had set.

“Wilbur! Someone’s here!”

Wilbur walks forwards, relaxing when he sees the man riding the back of the horse. The horse slows to a stop and the man slides off.

“Hello,” he says.

The man is really well built. He was taller than Tommy, but shorter than Wilbur. Long pink hair hangs loose, and paired with the man’s red eyes, it looks pretty intimidating.

“Who’s he?” Tommy asks, because everyone that Wilbur has been friends with was always magical in some way.

“This is Techno. Techno’s a vampire.” To Techno, in Japanese, he says, “Tech, this is Tommy.”

“Bruh. You can’t go around telling people that I’m a vampire.” Techno says in Japanese.

Tommy’s mouth hangs open. “You’re a vampire? Do you melt in the sun?”

Wilbur translates the question to Techno. Techno sighs. “No, I burn, not melt. And no, I’m not going to suck your blood.”

Wilbur tells Tommy what he said. Tommy nods, his eyes catching the sword at Techno’s hip. “Can I see that?”

Techno looks at Wilbur as if to say ‘where did you get this child from’, but pulls out the sword and hands it to Tommy anyways. 

Tommy stumbles from the weight, straining to hold it upright. “Are you a knight?” At this point, Wilbur is the middle man, translating for the two of them.

“I– you had to get an English child too. No, I wanted to be a samurai before I turned and left before they kicked me out.”

Tommy elected to ignore that part. “You trained to be a samurai? That’s so cool. Can you teach me?”

Wilbur tells Techno what Tommy said with a smile. Techno gives Wilbur pleading eyes and Wilbur shrugs. Techno looks back at Tommy, who tries to give him a look that he’d perfected on the street.

Techno sighs. “Yeah fine. Wilbur, I’m taking your guest bedroom, I don’t care what the child wants.”

“Nah, the kid has his own house. You can have the guest bedroom.” Wilbur switches to english. “Tommy, you can go to bed. Techno can teach you tomorrow.”

Tommy frowns. “But Techno burns during the day.”

“You’ll change your sleep schedule later. Right now you go to bed.”

Tommy grumbles off into his separate bedroom and Wilbur leads Techno into his cottage.

________

After that, things went by without a hitch. A couple hitches, but those didn’t matter.

Tommy and Wilbur’s sleep schedule is all over the place, because they want to spend time with Techno and Techno sometimes teaches Tommy to spar. He doesn’t say much, but Tommy thinks that it would kind of be useless to say something when they couldn’t understand each other.

Nevertheless, Tommy hangs around Techno as much as he hangs around Wilbur. Spring comes and goes, and suddenly they’re in late Summer, enjoying the evening and warm nights. Fall comes around and they harvest the farm Techno had started on and then Winter forces them inside, and sleepovers in Tommy’s bedroom become a constant. 

Winter comes around five times when Tommy was there. Then Spring is back and the days outside lengthen and all the while Wilbur told him that he was still thirteen, he didn’t age. 

The only time that could compete would be the days he spent in Rome. He wished Tubbo was here.

Sometimes, he would put his hand in his pocket and feel the key. Whenever that would happen, he would toss it back into the sea.

The best thing about it was, whenever Tommy got a nightmare, which only seemed to increase since he’d held the key for the first time, he just had to go outside. There was always someone awake. If it was Wilbur, he would offer tea and play his lute. If it was Techno, he’d take him on a walk on the beach.

It was safe to say that he loved every second of it.

One night in midsummer, it had been a particularly bad one.

Tommy woke up in cold sweat, trying to forget his dream. Tubbo had been walking up that contraption he’d seen in Paris, followed by Techno, and then Wilbur. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw blood.

Tommy kicked the sheets off of him, walking outside. It was dark out, but he couldn’t judge what time. It didn’t look like anyone was outside.

Tommy went up to the cottage and knocked on the door. He needed to see someone alive. It was so very quiet, with only the ocean to keep company. Techno had been on one of his travels. He usually leaves every couple weeks for a couple days.

A sleepy Wilbur opens the door, and Tommy immediately feels bad. He didn’t mean to wake Wilbur up. It became a habit at this point to go to someone when he wakes up at night, nightmare or no.

“I was just hungry–” he starts, but WIlbur cuts him off by stepping forwards and hugging him. Tommy’s heart calms down, just a little bit. Wilbur walks them to Tommy’s room and lays down on his bed, bringing Tommy back down with him.

“Wilbur?” Tommy asks.

“Shut up, I’m tired.” Wilbur pulls Tommy close to his chest and after a moment, Tommy relaxes, previous nightmare forgotten. He’s never gotten this, never been able to relax with someone’s hand on his head curled protectively.

Tommy wakes up slowly. His bed was really warm, and Techno wouldn’t be back until tomorrow to tell him to get up early.

He hugs the pillow tightly and it vibrates. Tommy realizes that Wilbur was underneath him and he was laughing.

“Shut up,” he says.

Wilbur brings up a hand to comb through his hair. “Shhh.”

Tommy settles back down, even though he doesn’t think that he could fall back asleep. He hums, happy with the contact.

Wilbur’s hand stops and Tommy makes a noise of protest. “What?”

Wilbur resumes. “Nothing.” He says, clearly lying. He hugs Tommy a bit possessively.

Tommy sighs. He’ll figure it out later. Right now, he just wants to sleep the day away.

________

“Shit.” Tommy says. “ Shit.”

“I’m sorry.” Wilbur says.

“It’s not your fault. It’s the stupid key.” He pulls it out from where it had reappeared in his pocket.

He feels like screaming. He feels like curling up into a ball and crying. Because this was the best couple years of his life and his stupid time travel had to stop it.

Because on the door of his room sits the platinum of his nightmares.

“It is. I spend more time here than the actual cottage. The doorknob follows me.” Wilbur tells him.

Tommy looks him in the eye. “I can’t prevent this. I’m not going to try to.”

Wilbur nods. “I wouldn’t want you to leave by accident.”

Tommy sucks in a breath. He should have known. Nothing good lasts forever. “I’ll wait until Techno comes back. Then I’ll tell him about the doorknob. I won’t leave immediately.” Techno knew that he could time travel, but he didn’t know the specifics.

Tommy spends most of the day trying not to miss the beach, or the cherry tree, or Techno. Weren’t vampires immortal?

Wilbur spends the day with him, trying to distract him. It’ll be harder for Wilbur, though. Tommy will be missing Japan but Wilbur won't be seeing him for who knows how long. He looked like he was trying not to cry.

Maybe near midnight, Tommy heard the telltale hoofbeat that meant that Techno was here. Wilbur went outside to greet him and bring him into Tommy’s room.

Techno asks Wilbur a question, looking worried. Tommy had thought that he would tell Techno the problem, but he had forgotten about their language barrier.

“Tell him, Wil.”

Wilbur does what Tommy can only assume to be explaining Tommy’s situation. Techno’s expression only seems to get sadder.

Techno turns to Tommy and says something. “Will I not see you again?” Wilbur tells him for Techno.

Tommy bites his lip. “Are vampires immortal?” Tommy asks Wilbur, who nods. “Tell him I’ll see him wherever I pop up.”

Wilbur relays the information and Techno nods slowly. He walks over to Tommy and hugs him. Techno’s always gave the best hugs, in his opinion, so it offers comfort even in this somber situation.

For Tommy it will be like no time has passed. This goodbye is for them.

________

Tommy steps on the door frame, unsure what he was about to step into.

“I’ll see you later, Tommy.” Wilbur tells him.

“Mata ne.” Techno says, which Tommy knows is Japanese for goodbye, or see you later.

Tommy smiles. “Goodbye.”

Spring of 1917 Moscow, Russia

Tommy emerges into an atmosphere he hadn’t seen before. Odd carriages ride the streets. He was about to go explore first when he heard gunshots ricochet. Instead, he turns around and knocks on the door he knows to be behind him. Though, it had a differently colored metal doorknob.

Someone opens the door. They say something in a language Tommy doesn’t know. “Do you know Wilbur Soot?” He asks, cutting them off. The woman frowns, not liking his language. She goes to her desk and presses a button on a box. It makes a crackle sound, and the woman says something into it.

Tommy waits a minute, not knowing what to do, when a door with no handles opens up and slides into the walls. Tommy was about to question it, when Wilbur walks out, looking at the woman, before catching sight of Tommy. It takes a split second for something to register and then Wilbur’s rushing towards him, hugging him tightly.

Tommy awkwardly pats the back of his back. “I’m here.”

“You really picked the worst place to be.” He leads him into a small room with the sliding doors and turns to him as they shut. “I am so, so sorry for kicking you out in Paris.”

Tommy shrugs. “It’s fine. I just- how is it glowing?”

Wilbur makes a face of confusion until Tommy points at the ceiling. “Oh. It’s like– you know lightning? It’s like if you take that and put it in a glass bottle. It’s called a lightbulb.”

Tommy nods, he can take that. His magic key is less confusing.

“When you left my shop in London, and then I kicked you out onto the streets of Paris in the middle of a revolution I didn’t remember you until you left. It’s a shit excuse but I remembered you from Rome and Japan–”

“Wilbur. It’s fine.”

Wilbur nods. “I know. But I see you so few and far between.”

Tommy felt the small room they were in stop moving, though he hadn’t noticed it start moving in the first place. The doors slide back open to reveal a hallway, different from the room they entered into.

Wilbur pulled Tommy out, leading him to a door with a platinum doorknob. “Open the door.” Wilbur tells him.

“What?” If Tommy goes inside now, he’ll have even less time here wherever he is.

“Tommy, as much as I wish you could stay here, you can’t. It’s not safe.”

“What do you mean, not safe?”

“I mean ,” Wilbur says frustratingly. “That this is not a good time to be in.”

Tommy crosses his arms. “What is a good time, then? I saw a guy’s head get chopped off, Tubbo almost burn to death, and disease rotting on the streets.”

“Tommy, you’re in Russia. In 1917. They are revolting out there.”

As if to match his point, Tommy hears gunshots go off.

“What’s the big deal about Russians revolting?” He didn’t know much politics, much less Russian politics.

Wilbur puts his hands on Tommy’s shoulders, as if that would drive the point home. “This is like the French revolution but worse. Tommy, if you don’t come inside my apartment, you will have to stay outside, and you might get shot. You don’t want that to happen.”

Tommy sighs. “I’ll go inside.”

“But then you’ll leave again.”

“No. I’m staying. You know for me, the last time I saw you was Japan? Those were the best years of my life. I’m not going to leave so quickly.”

“We’ll talk later. Just open the door.”

Tommy pulls out his key and opens the door. Walking in, he sees that it is a small apartment, a bit messy.

Tommy shakes his head. “Your house in Japan was so much better.”

Wilbur laughs. “I know. Come on, it’s almost dinner time. I have someone joining us for dinner.”

________

Wilbur has the window open, for some reason, even after he said that the streets of Russia were dangerous. The reason becomes known a moment later.

Wilbur was pouring some stew in a bowl for Tommy when a crow flew through the window. Wilbur closes the window behind it as Tommy watches the crow sit on the chair next to Tommy.

Tommy reaches out a hand to pet the crow, but then it starts moving and growing. A second later, a blond man in a green cloak is sitting where the crow was.

Wilbur greets him, speaking in Russian. To Tommy, he says in English, “This is Phil, he’s a shapeshifter.”

“You can shapeshift?” Tommy asks, even though he’d just seen him shift a moment ago.

“Ya.” Phil says. In a heavy accent, he says, “Hello, Tommy.”

“Hi. Can you shapeshift into anything?”

“Yes. It is,” he searches for a word. “Natural to me.”

Tommy turns to Wilbur. “Are all your friends magical?”

Wilbur nods. “I like to get to know the magical population of every city I’m a part of.”

They eat dinner, and Tommy thinks that Phil is pretty funny, in that forign grandpa kind of way, even though he looks no older than thirty. An hour later, Phil turns back into a crow and leaves, flying back out the window, and Tommy sleeps on the couch for the night.

________

The next day spurs an argument.

“Tommy, you have to leave. I’m not letting you stay here.”

“What’s wrong with a little bit of gunshots?”

“A lot of things!”

“What about you?” Tommy asks. “What if the next time you see me is a thousand years into the future?”

“I’d probably be better than this.” Wilbur says. “You always show up, most of the time, in some sort of era. Eras that have names. Named eras are mostly a bad thing. The French Revolution. The Roman fire that might or might not have been caused by its own emperor. The Black Plague . I bet you they’re going to call this the Russian revolution. They already are.”

“What was that time in Japan called, then?”

Wilbur calms down a little. “The Heian period. It’s called the golden period.”

“Then why do you want me to leave?”

“Look, I’m going to move to America soon. Maybe you’ll show up there. But not Russia, not now.”

Tommy takes a moment's consideration. “Fine.” He says. And just to hurt Wilbur a little more, he says, “If you don’t want me anymore.”

He walks out the door before Wilbur can respond.

Anywhen, Anywhere

Tommy meets Wilbur next in 1970’s Florida, America . He apologizes and Tommy spends a good two years there, living with a werewolf named Dream before Dream had to leave for college and Tommy thinks that it was time to leave. He learns a lot about what they call modern technology, and Tommy’s was always messing with Dream’s telephone trying to see who he could call.

After that, he went to 2003 Beirut, Lebanon . He spends maybe a month there with Wilbur, and meets a sheep hybrid named Puffy and learns some of the best insults.

Maybe the biggest surprise was when he ended up on Mars in 2576 . That was when he knocked on what he assumed to be Wilbur’s door and before he could blink, Wilbur was rushing towards him, hugging him fiercely, because he hadn’t seen him in a little over a thousand years. Those were always Tommy’s favorite part of time traveling. When he knocks on Wilburs door, Wilbur always pulls him into a bone-crushing hug, even though Tommy had just seen him a second prior. And to think he wanted to work in a factory.

He spends a little over a year on Mars under a pink dome, and befriends a duck hybrid named Quackity, who smuggled washing machines from Earth onto Mars, because ever since Mars became a sovereign nation, border tax was extremely high, especially for things that required water.

When Tommy leaves Mars, it was an accident of him leaning too far out the door a week after recklessly walking in after a nightmare.

Summer of 1920 New York, New York

“Ay!”

Tommy looks down at the sidewalk where a teenager was waving at him. “What?” Tommy asks. He’d perfected his way of speaking in 1970. He preferred 70’s English rather than the one he’d grown up with. It had plenty of more swears.

“Where did you come from?”

At least they spoke the same language. *cough* literally everywhere else *cough*

“I walked up here?” Tommy tries out. He hoped the kid could believe him.

The boy shook his head. “No you didn’t. I saw you pop up right in front of my eyes. How did you do it?”

Tommy walks down the house steps. “I didn’t.”

“Nah, you did. I’ve been trying to teleport for ages. What’s your spell?”

“You’re magic?” Tommy asks.

The boy thumps his chest. “Witch. My name’s Ranboo.”

“Tommy.” Tommy says. “What’s a witch? I don’t know much magic species.”

“Oh,” Ranboo says. “It means that I was born human but can perform spells if I have a book and a magical item.”

“Nice. I’m not a witch. I’m human. I can just…” Tommy thinks he could trust this kid. “I’m a time traveler.”

Ranboo’s eyes widened. “That’s the bee’s knees. I’ve never seen that before. Come, do you want to get some ice cream? I have some money from my parents.”

Ranboo seemed extremely trusting. Did you just pick up friends from the side of the road? “Can you tell me what year it is? And where I am first?”

Ranboo nodded, excited to have a hand in the time travel. “It’s 1920. You’re in New York.”

Tommy looks back at what he assumes to be Wilbur’s house. This was technically three years after Russia. And Tommy wanted to be petty. “Yeah, I’ll come.”

Ranboo walked him across the city, talking about how the giggle water had recently been banned, but if Tommy wants, Ranboo can get him some. He talks about how the great war just ended a couple years ago. He probably felt like he was helping Tommy out, except Tommy couldn’t understand half the things he said.

He knew a little bit. In the 70s, Wilbur and Dream had given him an overview of the history that happened so far. This was the roaring twenties, two years after world war one ended and a decade before the great depression.

It's evening by the time Ranboo leads him to a small ice cream shop that was colorfully decorated. A man stood behind the counter with a hat matching the light blue and red colors of the walls.

“Welcome to Kinoko’s what would you like?”

“Hey Karl.” Ranboo greets. “This is Tommy.”

Karl smiles at him. “Would you like the first time special?”

“What’s that?” Tommy asks.

“He would.” Ranboo tells him mischievously.

“Alright.” Karl goes on to put two generous scoops of ice cream on a cone. “There you go. Can you try that for me?”

Tommy takes the cone and takes a cautious lick of the green ice cream. He immediately draws back. “What is that?”

Ranboo laughs. “Pickles.”

“Why would you ruin ice cream like that?”

“Don’t worry, the first time special is always free. Because people always ask for refunds. But what would you like?”

“Give him the rainbow flavor. He is a child, after all.” A voice comes out from behind him.

Tommy turns around to see a pink-haired Japanese man smiling. Tommy isn’t even thinking before he’s launching himself at Technoblade, hugging him tightly.

“I thought I was hallucinating at first. Do you know how long it's been?”

“It's been three years for me.” Tommy tells him, pulling away.

Techno smiles, looking up at Karl before saying, “It’s been a bit longer than that for me.”

Ranboo’s looking at Techno like he might jump at him any second. “He won’t bite.” Tommy tells him.

“Applesauce. He’s leaking the heebie-jeebies. I think he does bite. A lot.”

“Does anyone want to order?” Karl says impatiently.

“I’ll take a caramel crunch. Tommy?”

Tommy looks at the flavors. He’d tried a lot of ice cream in the 70s. “Chocolate.” He says, because you can’t go wrong with chocolate.

Karl looks at Techno. “Ya want to actually try some ice cream today?”

Techno shakes his head. Ranboo grumbles something about a lousy, hard-boiled flat tire. Tommy shares a secret smile with Techno as he says, “not today. But someday.”

Techno turns to him, asking him a silent question. During the five years together, they had perfected the silent ways of communication. They had tried to learn the other’s language, but ultimately preferred conversing with hands and facial expressions.

So what Techno said to him was, did you see Wilbur?

Tommy shakes his head. He makes the motion for I’m going to. 

“What’s his favorite ice cream?” he asks Techno.

Techno makes a face of disgust. “That plain bitch only has eyes for vanilla. I’ll pay for it. Don’t want Ranboo to get in trouble.”

Techno meant it sincerely, but Ranboo swallows, looking scared. “Do you want to see the pier?” He asks Tommy, clearly not wanting to invite Techno.

Tommy catches Techno’s glare, and decides he should go to Wilbur. “Can I bring a friend with me?”

Ranboo looks at Techno, before nodding at Tommy. “Darb. As long as he doesn’t bump me off.”

Tommy nods, as if he understood exactly what Ranboo just said. They wave goodbye to Karl and walk to Wilbur’s home.

Tommy sighs, knocking the door. He waits a minute before the door opens and before he knows it, Wilbur knocks the breath out of him, one arm around him and the other cupping his head.

“I’m sorry.” He says. “At least it hasn’t been that long.”

Tommy hugs Wilbur back, breathing in deeply.

“You didn’t tell me your friend was the local warlock.” Ranboo says in awe.

Wilbur pulls away far enough to look at Tommy. “You’ve grown. You’re sixteen now.”

Tommy’s been thirteen for a while. “I do feel taller.”

“This is a much better place to be than Russia.”

Tommy pulls away. “You know, I didn’t immediately come here? After you kicked me out in Russia– no hard feelings, by the way– I went to Florida in 1970 for two years. I spent a month in Lebanon in 2003 and a year on Mars in I forgot the year.”

“You went to Mars? Were there aliens?”

Tommy ignores Ranboo. “Then I came here.”

“Your ice cream’s melting.” Techno says, handing the vanilla cone to Wilbur.

Wilbur licks of the dripping ice cream. “You met Techno before me?”

Tommy shrugged. “Ranboo distracted me. How come you're in America?” He asked him.

“I moved to England for a while before coming here after the revolutionary war.” Techno says.

That meant that Techno had been in England the same time Tommy was. “Huh.” He says.

They go to the pier, walking along and chatting. Tommy warms up to Ranboo, thinking that he would be great friends with Tubbo. He wondered if he could still see Tubbo if he traveled to a time when he was still alive.

Vampires were mortal, they were just undead. Tommy knew that Techno had died before Mars. It was odd, going to places where the people he knew had long since passed. The only person he can put that trust in is Wilbur.

They’re discussing Tommy’s living situation, since he couldn’t stay with Wilbur and Techno’s is a no for vampire reasons.

“He can live with me. My parents are chill. But we have to go back soon or they’ll be mad.”

“When’s soon?” Tommy asks.

“Like thirty minutes ago.”

“Shit. I’ll see you tomorrow, Wil?”

Wilbur nods. “Yeah. And I’ll make it up to you.”

Tommy blinks. “Make what up to me?”

“Russia.”

Tommy nods, even though Wilbur had already made it up to him in Florida. He wasn’t a gold digger, as Ranboo would say, but sometimes he doesn’t want to ask for things from the person he’s long ago started to look at like an older brother.

“Okay,” Tommy says instead. “See you tomorrow.”

“Ranboo, remind me to give you an old spellbook I don’t use anymore.” Wilbur says, and Ranboo looks ecstatic.

Wilbur gives Tommy a goodbye hug and they leave.

________

Ranboo is, how Dream would say it, completely cracked.

He gave him a quick tour of his house, telling him about how his parents liked to be open minded and let their children have freedom. Apparently that meant that Ranboo could hide a bottle of alcohol underneath his floorboards.

He gave a him a couple of pillows to sleep on and then promptly passed the fuck out.

Tommy couldn’t sleep. Rain had started to pelt the windows. Usually, rain would have been able to lull him to sleep, but Tommy had something on his mind.

Where did he stand, in all of this? He was a time traveler, and has been for a while. It was time to establish a routine. He needed to accept it, make it part of his life. So far Tommy has only been living in the moments between the travel, when he can pretend that this was his real time.

Because truly, he hated time traveling. He hated showing up in an unknown situation disoriented and tired. He needed to sleep, but his mind was too loud. He had too much energy but was too tired to spend it on anything. It was a strange balance.

Huffing, Tommy throws the blanket off of him and walks out of Ranboo’s house. He walks along the sidewalk, not bothered by the rain.

A strange sense of agony hits him. The fact that he is destined to wander, never stay in a place for too long. Tommy heard a poem once, about a soldier, a poet, and a king. He had asked Wilbur where he fit into it and Wilbur said he didn’t know. Tommy could be the joker or the traveler.

Tommy had always thought that the idea of a wanderer was sad. They never had a place to permanently call home. He supposed it was just his luck that he himself is resigned to the same fate.

Tommy continues walking, when he hears a shout. “Hey kid! Come over here!”

Tommy turns, only to be met with a group of five boys, all looking drunk off their asses. Tommy just ignores them, walking away.

A hand on his shoulder drags him back. They caught up to him fast. “I was talking to you. You want some?” The boy asks him, holding up a broken bottle. Prohibition act his ass.

Because Tommy can’t keep his mouth shut, he says, “There’s nothing in that bottle, it doesn’t even have a bottom.”

The boy grins, as if Tommy’s said something funny. “I must have slipped my mind.” And then there’s a fist against his face, glass bottle and all.

Tommy stands there in shock as the boy and his friends start laughing. The glass must have cut him, because a touch to his face has his fingers coming away red.

“Can you leave?” Tommy says tiredly. He’s still exhausted from the travel here and his lack of sleep.

The boy just points the glass bottle to Tommy’s throat. The jagged edges wouldn’t kill, but they’d sure as hell hurt. 

Tommy decides that he wouldn’t get away from here peacefully. And he has been taught to fight from a fucking samurai. Well, samurai in training got kicked out, but still.

He uppercuts the boy in the jaw, punching his friend’s ribs when he comes towards him. Two of his friends just back away, but the other three come at him. Tommy holds his own in the fight. They’re all inexperienced, but Tommy is outnumbered.

Eventually they get tired and leave, one of them apparently having a curfew. Tommy is left there, catching his breath on the brick wall. The cut on his cheek could be deep, and he can feel bruises forming all over. 

He should get back to Ranboo. Automatically, his feet start moving. Tommy’s clutching his ribs. The rain is coming down hard now, and it's dark. He didn’t think he remembered where Ranboo’s house was but apparently his feet knew the way.

Tommy climbs the steps and knocks on—not Ranboo’s door. He doesn’t have the energy to realize where he is.

Tommy sits down on the steps after ringing the doorbell again. He was getting a bit lightheaded.

“Tommy?” A familiar voice asks. Tommy doesn’t bother looking up. The water flowing down his face stings his cut cheek as Wilbur sits beside him. “Tommy?” He says again.

Tommy rests his head against his shoulder. He isn’t just injured, he’s tired of all this travel. 

“What’s wrong?” Wilbur asks him. Tommy just hums.

“‘M tired, Wil.” He says.

“Of what?”

Tears sting his eyes, and he hopes that the rain can cover it. “Moving from place to place. I can’t keep getting attached to places.”

“Then get attached to me.” Wilbur says simply.

Tommy looks up so quickly and catches Wilbur’s sincere look before it turns worried. “Are you alright?”

“What?” Tommy says, still reeling from Wilbur’s earlier statement. 

Wil reaches up a hand and tentatively touches his face. Tommy winces. “Who did this?” He asks, and there’s a dark undertone.

“Some kids. It doesn’t matter. What did you just say?”

Wilbur’s looking Tommy up and down, looking for any more injuries. “The ‘are you alright’?”

Tommy sucks in a breath. “No. The other thing. About getting attached to– uh–”

“Oh.” Wilbur says easily. “You could get attached to me. I know you never have the same home but if I have it correct I’m the only constant in your– every time you travel. I don’t know if I’m overstepping but–”

“Wilbur.” Tommy cuts him off. “You are the only constant in my life. I’ve spent a lot of time with you, even though for you that time has a lot of gaps. I know that you're my home, for a while now. I just–”

“What?” Wilbur prompts.

Tears slip down his cheeks and Wilbur moves to wipe them, even though it's useless with the rain.

“You’re trained on the streets to not form any attachments and to stay in the shadows. I’ve fucking spent eight years with you now but its not the same for you.”

“What do you mean?” God, Wilbur wasn’t going to make this easier for him.

“You know what the worst part of time traveling is? It’s when you show up somewhere completely disoriented, and I hesitate every time, wondering if it's been long enough for you to forget me.” And yet you greet me every time with a hug, goes unsaid.

Wilbur pulls Tommy close to his chest and Tommy just stays there. He’s tired. He’s oh-so tired, so he just sits in his arms, silent tears slipping down his wet cheeks.

Wilbur’s voice is grounding when he speaks next, comforting and declaring all the same. “Tommy. I need you to trust me on this. No matter when we are, I could never forget you. I will always greet you with open arms. You’re my only family at this point. Even if you’re gone more often than not, you always come back. Even after a thousand, ten thousand years, I’ll be there, and I’ll remember you.”

Tommy has no reason to doubt him. He’s already been proven on Mars, he just wanted to hear it outloud. So he tells him something that he’s said before for the first time in Florida, yet this Wilbur hadn’t heard it yet.

“I love you. You’re my family and my brother and I will always come back to you.”

Wilbur hugs him tightly. Tommy just wants to melt. “I love you too, little brother.”

“I’m not little,” he says, because he has to.

“Can you tell me you hurt you?”

“Are you gonna do some weird magic shit on them?”

He can feel Wilbur smiling. “I have something in mind.”

________

Tommy finds a way to make fun of the power that the world had bestowed upon him. He visits the fuck out of the world, going all over. Wilbur, he realized, moved a lot. And Tommy goes to almost every house he’s ever been in. Once he left his house in northern Canada out of pettiness. Teaches him not to make a house in the middle of nowhere.

He also decides to fuck with historians, leaving fake diaries that he and Wilbur giggled over while writing. Once he snuck into an Egyptian tomb to hide a phone. He’s seen his stuff in museums before.

Wilbur is, as always, a constant in his life. Always there as he travels and as the time periods between Tommy’s absences get shorter. He’d still get sick of it sometimes, but then there was Wilbur, sometimes Techno or an adult Ranboo once. He’s seen Tubbo only once before, but elected not to speak in case Tubbo forgot him. 

Every time he found himself reminiscing, he’d shut it down. It only leads him into a spiral. If the universe could grant him one wish it was for everyone he’d met to be in the same time, including him. He smiled bitterly thinking how well a fire elf would get along with a certain werewolf, or the half demon getting along with a specific earth elf that specializes in gems.

But past all that, he has Wilbur, and Wilbur has him.

He holds onto the doorknob, pushing open the door as it unrests a couple of leaves. He has long since accepted that some sort of magic, be it fate, be it necessity, forces him to leave at some point. He’s long since made it on his own terms.

“See you next time.”

A whisper, and yet he doesn’t know who uttered it. Maybe both of them.

See you next time.