Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Guys, I have bad news.” I sigh heavily while I finish touching up Ranboo’s roots.

I’m in Tubbo’s house, more specifically, his bathroom. We’re in the middle of dying all three of our hair. I chose to put a red streak in my hair, Ranboo just wanted to touch up their already split-dyed hair, and for some reason, Tubbo decided to bleach his whole head.

Tubbo and Ranboo are some of the only people I actually like. Not to brag or anything, but I would say I'm pretty popular– at least at school, but the two boys I’m currently with are the only ones I would call my best friends.

“What’s up, big man?” Tubbo is fidgeting with the plastic wrap covering his shaggy hair.

I sigh and throw out the gloves I was wearing, taking Ranboo’s place on the stepstool that we dragged in here while the taller starts to mix the dye for my hair.

“My brothers are coming to visit.” Tubbo pauses in his fidgeting, and Ranboo stops their dye mixing as they both turn to face me.

“What?!” the newly blond boy silently screams.

“As in the brothers who haven't talked to you in almost eight years?” Ranboo’s voice is calm, but they are clearly starting to panic.

“Those are the ones!” I sigh dramatically and think back to this morning.

‘I’m on my way out of the house when I hear my father shout my name, which is strange in its own right– dad likes to stay as far away from me as possible. In fact, it’s been about two weeks since I even saw him, but who's counting? I am; I count every second. But what’s even stranger is that there’s a wide grin on his face.

“Tommy! I have great news!” he’s holding his phone in his hand as if he just got off a call.

I can’t find it in me to smile back. A small treacherous part of me wants to believe dad’s smiling because of something I did, even though I know better. Dad stopped smiling around me a long time ago.

“What?” I ask, not looking at him and instead making sure I didn’t forget to put my notebook in my backpack again.

“Your brothers are coming to visit!”

My stomach drops. They’re… they're coming back? Why? Maybe they're coming back to laugh at me, maybe they're coming back to take away everything I’ve worked for, maybe they’re coming back to steal all my friends and invade my life, maybe they’re coming back for my birthday?

Phil is oblivious to my inner turmoil as usual. He continues to speak.

“We’re picking them up from the airport tomorrow at nine! Aren't you excited?”

“I have work at eight,” I say, desperately hoping to get out of this.

Phil scowls, but he still seems happy, “I’m sure you can miss one shift!”

Before I can try to argue, dad’s phone rings, and he raises a finger, immediately silencing me.

He walks off, chatting on the phone aimlessly about some work thing. I pick up my bag and just stand there for a moment. When I check the clock, I’m ten minutes late to meet tubbo at the bus stop. I curse to myself and slip on my shoes, not bothering to attempt to tie them before flying out the door.’

“You ok, Tommy?” Ranboo asks in a soft voice.

I look up and realize my hair is fully dyed and wrapped in tinfoil. I must have spaced out.

“I’m good, Boo. just not excited for tomorrow.” I pull out my phone and mindlessly scroll through Instagram, trying to find a way to distract myself. I already texted Bad to let him know I wouldn't be able to make it in for work. If anything, he was glad that I was “finally taking some time off.” his words, not mine.

When the timer Tubbo set goes off, all three of us take turns washing our heads in the bath with the shower faucet. Ranboo is staying the night; I was supposed to as well but tomorrow's events really through a wrench in our plans.

I leave Tubbo’s house around 11:00 PM. I'm not surprised when I find my home empty. I trudge up the stairs and collapse into bed after changing into my pyjamas. I pull out my laptop and scroll through Netflix for about thirty minutes before deciding I won’t be watching anything tonight. I start to doodle in the margins of my notebook in a secret code I made up.

Sometimes I like to fill my days with little things that other people don’t care about. It makes me feel like I’m doing something important, mainly because no one else is doing it. This is one of those times.

I creep downstairs and open the fridge. There’s leftover pizza from a few nights ago. Most of it is still there since dad didn’t come home that night. I can’t stop myself, and I eat the whole thing. Then, I go to the bathroom to deal with it. Then, I go back to my room.

My last thought before I pass out is about how royally fucked I am.

~~~

Barley getting any sleep the night before. I climb into the passenger seat of Phil’s car at 7:45 in the morning, wearing a pair of jeans that I found in the bottom of my closet, some random graphic t-shirt and an old zip-up hoodie. The look is complete with my signature bracelets. I have six on one wrist and seven on the other, and I rarely, if ever, take them off.

We pull up to the airport around 8:54, their plane has just landed, and I'm forced to follow Phil to the gate. He stands eagerly, waiting for my brothers to turn the corner while I sit in a chair scrolling on my phone.

I’m texting Tubbo about some party happening this Friday when I hear Phil release an excited gasp.

=

Wilbur practically vibrates with excitement as he and Techno step off the plane.

“Take a breath Will,” his brother teases but is just as excited as him to finally see their family again after so long.

“I can’t, Tech! It’s been seven years! Can you believe that?”

“It is weird to think we’ve been gone for so long.”

Wilbur nods and smiles even wider. “Can you believe we’re going to see Tommy again?”

Techno lets a small smile grace his lips at the thought of the gremlin they call a little brother. The two men begin to think of all the fond memories they have of their outspoken ball of sunshine.

“Do you think he’s still as annoying as before?” Techno prompts, and Will chuckles fondly.

“I bet he’s still dragging around that beat-up old cow plushie.” Wilbur smiles, and suddenly, as if no time has passed, they’re at the gate.

Wilbur takes the first step forward, grinning madly. They turn the corner and see their father smile so big his eyes close. Techno and Will both pick up their speed slightly and go in for a group hug. Wilbur feels the beginnings of tears start to form in his eyes but quickly wipes them away.

“I’ve missed you boys so much!”

“We’ve missed you too, dad,” Techno says.

Phil begins to make sure their ok and asks how their flight was, but Wilbur can’t help his tunnel vision.

“Is Tommy at home?”

Phil looks confused for a second as if forgetting about his third son's existence, before he quickly smiles and points to the seats not far from the three men.

“No, he's sitting right there.”

The twins whip their heads to look for their brother. At first, they don’t notice him, so used to looking for their short, wide-eyed little sibling. Then someone stands up and starts to walk towards them. As he walks, his black hood falls off to reveal a bright head of golden hair.

The older brothers smile. As Tommy walks closer, they start to notice how different he looks. First, he’s much taller and has a red streak down the front of his hair. Heavy bags are under his eyes, and his ears are covered in several piercings, including a small pair of gauges. He even has a septum piercing. Slowly Wilbur and techno’s faces morph to confusion.

Tommy stands before them; he doesn't say hello or even smile. If anything, he looks annoyed.

“You got taller” is the thing Wilbur decides to blurt out because he doesn't know what else to say.

Tommy raises an eyebrow. “Great observation” he turns and starts walking toward baggage claim.

=

After my brothers grab their bags, we start to walk to the car. Phill and Techno chat about what they plan to do during their stay while Wilbur stares at me, clearly trying to reason how his cute innocent little brother turned into whatever the hell I am now.

I get in the front seat instead of helping them put their bags in the car. I don't miss the side glare I get from dad.

Once we finally start driving, Will seems to find his voice. “So, Toms, how’s school?” a stupid mundane question, but I still manage to flinch at the use of the old nickname. Wilbur either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care.

“Fine,” I answer and put in my headphones before he can try and keep talking to me. I blast music in my ears and stare out the window.

I blink when I hear a door slam. Oh, I'm in my room. I shrug off the fact that I seem to be spacing out more and more and pull out my notebook from my bag and start scribbling down the plans I have for a story. Still playing music in my ears that is probably far too loud, whatever, if I'm lucky, I’ll go deaf.

~~~

I wake up around seven and start to get ready for work. I see all three family members having breakfast together when I descend the stairs. I try not to think about the fact that they didn’t invite me down for the meal (even though I was clearly awake) while I creep past the kitchen. My efforts are in vain when Techno sees me out of the corner of his eye.

“What are you doing dressed on a Sunday?’ He asks in his usual monotone voice.

I roll my eyes, “I'm going to work.”

“You have a job?” Wilbur asks, mouth agape; he looks like a fish.

I don't answer; instead, I walk out the door.

The walk to the bus stop is around two minutes, and the ride itself is about ten. I smile when I step off the bus and finally get to the restaurant.

I step into “The Bad Day Cafe” it smells of blueberry muffins and vanilla extract. Sapnap looks up from the coffee he's making when he hears the bell ring. He grins wide.

“Tommy!”

I smile and step into the back room to put on my apron. After it’s on, I quickly rush behind the counter to join Sapnap for the morning rush.

“Your eyebags look even bigger today. Something happen?” his tone is jovial, but I can hear the hidden concern.

I pause, debating whether I should tell him or not. I ultimately decide that there's no harm in speaking the truth. “I’m fine. My brothers are just in town.”

Sapnap pauses for a second before immediately resuming what he was doing. Sap doesn’t know about my brothers– at least, he doesn’t know as much as Ranboo and Tubbo. All he knows is that my brothers' aren’t around, and I don’t really get along with them.

“Oh… and how do you feel about that?”

I can’t help the laugh that escapes me. “What are you, my therapist?”

Sapnap giggles himself before sobering his expression. “Seriously though, you ok?”

I sigh. “Yeah, ill be fine. Just gonna be annoyed for a while.”

The following few hours go by fairly quickly, the repetitive motion of preparing drinks and serving pastries is relaxing, and Sapnap helps me from spacing out too much.
Then around lunch, right before I'm supposed to go on break, the door opens. “Welcome to The Bad Day Cafe; how can we make your day better-” I speak in my typical customer service voice before I turn to the entrance.

Oh, fuck.

=

Techno and Will step into the cafe– that apparently opened the year they left, only to be greeted by their little brother, who currently looks like a deer in the headlights.

“Tommy? This is where you work?” Techno asks, stepping fully into the building.

“Uh-” before he can respond, a man peaks his head through the backroom door. He’s about average height. He has messy black hair, slight scruff on his chin, and a white bandana on his forehead. He’s dressed in a black long-sleeved undershirt with a white t-shirt that has an icon of a flame on it on top. He’s also wearing dirty black jeans, an absurd amount of rings and a red and black apron.

“Toms? Who are these guys?” His voice is somewhat deep, and he speaks in a concerned tone.

Wilbur fights a scowl. “Toms” is his nickname for Tommy! No one else’s!

Tommy finally looks away and faces the man behind him. “I'm fine, Sapnap,” he reassures with a small smile.

Techno realizes, much to his dismay, that this is the first time he’s seen his brother smile in seven years. A part of him shrivels up at the fact that he didn’t smile at him or his twin. Wilbur notices the same thing and feels his eye twitch.

The twins walk forward, and both unconsciously stand a little taller at the man’s- “Sapnap” apparently- scrutinizing stare.

“I’m Will. This is Techno; we’re Tommy’s older brothers.” Wilbur eaches out his hand, expecting Sapnap to shake it. Instead, his face falls, and he looks irritated.

“Oh,” He rolls his eyes and walks past them to stand next to Tommy, who’s been watching the encounter like a hawk.

Wilbur quickly tries to remedy the situation. “So, Toms, how long have you worked here?” The brunette is desperate for any possible information on his little brother.

Tommy doesn't look him in the eyes and instead goes to take drinks to a table in the corner.

Wilbur stares at the spot where the blonde was and takes a deep breath before quickly covering his desperate face with a forced chuckle. “Well, I guess we’ll have our little brother as our waiter.”

“Tommy was about to go on break.” Sapnap cuts in with a cold, unforgiving tone.

“Ok, then I guess we’ll hang out with him while he’s on break.” Techno offers, only for Sapnap to sigh with an angry glint in his eyes.

“Look, I'm just gonna be straight with you two. Tommy doesn’t like you, and if Tommy doesn’t like someone, then I don’t like someone.” He points an accusatory finger at the twins. “I don’t know what you two did, but I swear to god if you hurt that ball of sunlight in any way, I will beat you till your face is nothing but a mangled bloody pulp.” He spits between gritted teeth, and then his face immediately switches into an easy smile as Tommy approaches.

The two baristas walk into the backroom, chatting as a different unimpressed-looking teen walks up to them to take their order.

The one thought on both of the twins' minds for the rest of the day is, “What did we do to Tommy?”

=

It’s Monday, which most would consider the worst day of the week. I am no exception to this unless you were to count the hours of 3-6 PM. that is when the school’s writing and reading club gets together.

I walk into the library that Karl, the temporary librarian, lets us use for club meetings and activities. Ranboo is already there, along with Drista, Aimsey, Purpled and Mr.Sam, now; the only people we’re waiting on now are Niki and Jack. They technically don’t go to Esempi High. they are just college students who get extra credit for helping out in “Underprivileged Schools.”

“Where’s Jack and Niki?” I ask as I sit down next to Ranboo on one of the beanbags.

“Oh yeah, they're going to be late, apparently meeting up with some old friends who are in town.” Mr. Sam asks as he finishes editing Drista’s most recent story.

The whole club isn't really and has never been structured. Really all it is is the lot of us getting together and talking about the newest book we read or sharing ideas for new things to write.

I pull out my signature pen and my blue notebook covered in stickers, starting to plan out the chapters for my latest story. Whenever I have an idea for something to write, I first make a giant storyboard in my book. Tubbo once compared them to a detective’s red string connecting the pieces of evidence in a case. Then once I finish with that stage of planning, I write out summaries for every chapter. Then when I finally complete all of that, I go to my shitty Acer laptop and start writing.

“Hey,” Ranboo nudges my shoulder to get my attention. I blink and realize that I've already planned out almost four chapters. I really need to stop doing that.

“What's up?” I turn to them.

“Are you going to that party at Purpled’s place this Friday?” he asks.

I sigh. I hate parties. If I could choose to, I wouldn’t go to a single one. Sometimes I hate people too. This is probably very bad for my mental health. But I know that Tubbo wants to go, and if I decide not to go, neither Ranboo nor Tubbo will go. And if I ever made either of those two upset, I don’t think I could live with myself.

“Yeah, probably. Why?”

“I was just wondering if it would be too much, you know, with the whole brother thing?”

I don’t want to think about that.

“I'll be fine,” maybe if I keep saying it, I’ll start to believe it.

~~~

I fumble with my keys unlocking the door and slipping into the house. I'm immediately greeted by Techno and Will rushing me.

“Where have you been?” Techno asks. To most, he would sound impassive, but after growing up with him for ten years, I can hear the slight panic in his tone.

The thought that he might be worried about me makes me want to hide in my closet and scream until my vocal cords tear.

“I was busy” is all I say. Trying to push past them and get to my room.

“Have you eaten?” Wilbur asks, following me up the stairs.

I want to punch him in the face and scream at him. Tell both of them to never talk to me again. To get out of my life. To leave like they did all those years ago. I don't like talking about food.

“Yes. I ate. Now can you leave me alone?” I want to beg them to stay.

I don’t look at their faces.

I sneak up to my room and fall into my bed. I feel the tears run down my face, but I don’t feel present. Like I'm looking at myself in the third person. I vaguely register that my eyelids are getting heavy before, all of a sudden, I'm falling into a dreamless sleep.

When I wake up, I immediately check my phone to see that it's 12:48 AM. I want to go back to sleep and hopefully wake up early for school tomorrow, but I feel restless.

I grab my notebook and pen from my backpack and shove them into my over-the-shoulder bag (It’s pretty much a purse, but you'll never hear me say that.)

I open my window slowly. Now that people are actually in the house, I have to be much quieter. I removed the bug screen from my window years ago once I noticed no one would be checking my room. My room is on the second floor, but right outside my window is an overgrown trellis; pretty fucking convenient if you ask me.

I climb down slowly. Once I get to the bottom, I quickly walk to the side gate and start on my way to the park. It’s always easier to write free of the restricting empty halls and quiet corridors.

I sit down at a random park bench and sigh.

I’m not fine.

Chapter Text

The school office smells like paper and stale coffee, but at the same time also kinda smells like a hospital waiting room; I don't know, all I know is I don't like it.

It’s Friday morning, and I'm sitting in the office with my backpack on my lap. I'm bouncing my leg erratically, waiting for the door in front of me to open.

As if on cue Miss. Puffy’s office door swings open. “Tommy? You can come in now.”

I stand and walk past some kid with eyes that have clearly been crying. Part of me wonders what they were crying about, but another part doesn't really care.

I sit down on a magenta-coloured couch across from Miss. Puffy’s desk. She sits down and takes a sip from her hand-painted mug full of tea.

“So, Tommy, anything big happened since we last talked?” Puffy is the school counsellor, I know that I should probably be seeing an actual therapist, but I would rather claw my own eyes out than ask Phil for something like that.

“Not, really; I mean, my brothers are visiting from university,” I mumble.

“Oh! That must be exciting!” I tighten in on myself.

Maybe it would help if I actually talked to someone other than Tubbo and Ranboo about my problems, but I have a pretty good idea of what happens when you try and speak about stuff like this. I’d either get ignored or, worst case scenario, they do do something. Then, suddenly, everyone will know what I've gone through, and everyone will judge me.

I'd much rather suffer in silence, thank you very much.

“Yeah, I guess” I shrug my shoulders.

“I’ve been meaning to ask, how's the writing going?”

At that, I finally begin to speak. “It's actually going really well; I'm working on a new story right now,”

“That’s great! Now I thought today we could go over some distress coping skills,”

I blink; oh, I'm in math class. I guess this is one of those days that I won’t remember when I get home.

~~~

I believe it is well documented that high school parties suck. Everyone is talking around me, but I'm not in any active conversation. All the people are chatting and laughing and smiling, and it sort of makes me feel a bit sad like I'm watching them through a dirty window.

I'm on a couch in Purpled’s house, surrounded by kids talking about their newest crushes and gossiping. There's a cup in my hand that's halfway full of obviously spiked punch; I've occasionally been sipping from it for the past thirty minutes. In my other hand is a box vape that I usually keep buried at the bottom of my over-the-shoulder bag. I know it’s not good for me, but I kinda stopped caring about that stuff a while ago.

Once, somebody asked why I don’t smoke real cigarettes.

‘“Wilby, what are you doing?” a 8-year-old me tugs on his big brother's pant leg.

“Why, aren’t you in bed, Toms?” Wilbur searches for a distraction as he quickly stomps out the cigarette he had previously been holding.

I look down at my feet and clutch Henry a little closer to my chest. “You said you we’re going to read me a story.”

Wilbur sighs. “I don’t have time; just go to bed like a normal kid. You’re too old for stories anyway.”

Will walks off the front porch and towards his car. I walk up the stairs to my room. I don't want to lay in my bed tonight, so I carry my blankets and pillows into my closet and build myself a nest in there. I don't sleep that night.’

I never answered that person.

Some girl giggles next to me about the new person she’s dating, and that's when I decide to leave. Thinking or talking too much about ‘relationship issues’ makes me want to shoot myself in the face. It’s not like I care about that stuff anyway. I used to make a lot of jokes about how much I love women, but Ranboo and Tubbo made me realize I just had a lot of internal issues and am actually aro ace.

I sneak away from the crowded living room and creep to a corner in the backyard where I can sit in my misery in peace. Someone, however, clearly doesn't get this message when I hear my name being called. I turn my head quickly and see Sapnap marching over to me, his hands flailing.

I sigh.

“Tommy!” He runs over and sits next to me on the grass.

“I need your help!” He breathes heavily with desperation in his eyes.

I roll my eyes. “I’m not pretending to be your little brother again so you can get sympathy weed from your dealer.”

He shakes his head, “It’s not that!”

“Then what do you want?”

His face bursts into a grin. “I need you to join The Feral Boys!”

I blink, huh? “What in the world are The Feral Boys?”

Sapnap looks a little hurt for a second. “My band! Do you not remember?”

Oh…Oh! Now I remember! Sapnap has told me about it a few times, but I honestly probably just zoned it out. God, I'm an asshole.

“Oh yeah!”

Then suddenly, his first sentence catches up to me. “I’m sorry, did you say join?”

Sapnap holds his hands in front of him as if trying to calm a wild animal. “Not permanently! Dream got sick, and we need a replacement for an upcoming gig,”

“Listen, Sap-”

“C’mon! I know for a fact that you play the drums and that you’re good at it!”

There’s no getting out of this. I work with Sapnap, Quackity is somehow everywhere (Every sad teenager in L’manburg knows him for giving people piercings and tattoos without parental consent needed), and Karl– Sapnap and Quackity’s boyfriend and fellow bandmate, works at the library at Essempi High. I mean, there’s also George, but I don’t really think he would do much. I meet Sapnap’s eyes and give him a reluctant smile.

“Fine, ill be a stand-in for your fucking band.”

He smiles wide, showing off all his teeth. “Perfect!”

I can’t fight the matching grin as it creeps its way onto my face.

“Oh, also, we’re going to have to use songs you’ve written,” Sapnap blurts.

“What!”

“Me, Dream and Quackity can’t write for shit, Goerge is too lazy, and all of Karl’s songs are really weird and sound like just a bunch of random noise!”

“How do you know I even write songs?”

Sapnap gives me an unimpressed stare. “I've seen your notebooks; I would be genuinely surprised if you haven’t tried writing music yet.”

I flush and fold my arms against my chest, grumbling silently.

“Fine.” I don’t look back to see the undoubtedly ecstatic look on his face. Instead, I walk inside and decide I want to get drunk and sit in a corner. So that's what I do.

~~~

“C’mon, Tommy get in the car.” Tubbo pushes me into the back seat while Ranboo buckles up in the front.

I feel the car start moving and lean my head against the window closing my eyes in hopes that the world will stop spinning.

“You sure you're ok with Tommy staying at your place? Cause he can stay at mine if it’s too much,” Ranboo practically whispers it to Tubbo, but I still hear.

“Nah, it’s cool. My dad won’t care,” Tubbo readily responds.

We pull up to his house, and Ranboo opens the door for me. They grab me under the arms while Tubbo grabs my legs. They carry me into Tubbo’s room and practically throw me on his couch.

“Alright, Ran, we’ll see you on Monday.” Ranboo nods and steps out, most likely to drive home.

I open my eyes and spare a glance at Tubbo. He sits down on the ground in front of the couch.

I hear him let out a heavy sigh. “Me and Boo are really worried about you, Tommy,”

I don’t respond, pretending to be asleep.

“You know, sometimes you make me really mad.” I think he's crying.

“You like to act as if you care about nothing, and if you carry on like that, then you’re going to drown in the abyss you have imagined for yourself.” he lets out a wet laugh.

“And I know how terrible your family is. I wish I could just take you away forever and make sure you never get hurt again.” he stands up and starts pacing, his default stress response.

“You just- you mean so much to us, and you have no concern for your own well-being! I’m worried that one day I won’t be quick enough. I'm worried that ill find you but ill be too late! I can’t lose you, Tommy!” He yells the final sentence in a wet sob.

I hear him sniffle and catch his breath. Finally, he walks over to me and tentatively kisses my forehead. “Good night Tommy.”

I wait until I hear him settle in his bed and then until his breathing evens out. I turn myself onto my back and stare at the ceiling. I really am a massive piece of shit.

~~~

When I wake up, the sun is streaming directly onto my face from the window blinds that were never closed. My head is pounding, and my mouth feels like I swallowed glue, I'm covered in sweat, and I feel like I'm gonna be sick.

I pick up my phone and check the day's messages.

8 MISSED CALLS FROM Unkown Number

9 MISSED CALLS FROM Unkown Number

22 MESSAGES FROM Unkown Number

19 MESSAGES FROM Unkown Number

I raise my eyebrow; who could possibly be texting and calling me this much? I ignore the messages and check the time. I've got work in an hour, but it will take me a while to get to the Caffe from Tubbo’s. I glance down at my outfit. Eh, good enough.

I quickly find my bag and rip out the corner of a piece of paper from my notebook. I scribble a note about going to work and leave it on Tubbo’s bedside table.

I grab my bag and start to head for the door, realizing that I never even took my shoes off. I try to be as silent as I can while I sneak through the halls, but I'm interrupted by someone clearing their throat. I spin around to see Tubbo’s dad.

“Hey Schlatt,” I drag out the ‘hey’ and try to subtly sneak closer to the door.

He grabs my arm and drags me in the direction of the kitchen. “Nice try, kid. Let's get you some aspirin.”

He takes me to the kitchen and makes me sit down at the island while he gets me a glass of water and the medicine. Schlatt is too caring sometimes. It makes my stomach hurt and my brain reel. Why is he so nice when Phil barely acknowledges me?

Whatever, I'm too hungover for this.

I take the aspirin that's set in front of me and chug the water. Then, finally, I stand up and head for the door.

“Hey, Tommy?” I turn around. “Take care of yourself” I walk out the door.

~~~

I’m in the backroom on my break, scrolling through Tiktok, when I hear a commotion in the main room. I peek my head through the door and see Sapnap trying to talk to my panicked-looking brothers. I step out, and their attention snaps to me.

“Tommy!” Wilbur squawks and rushes to me.

“Where have you been?” Techno asks.

There aren't many people in the Caffe, but those who are here are looking at me. I hate this. I don’t like being the center of attention. I don’t like it when people even perceive me! I don’t want people to be worried about me. There’s nothing to worry about. I don’t want people to try and understand why I’m the way I am, because I should be the first person to understand that. And I don’t understand yet. I don’t want people to interfere. I don’t want people in my head, picking out this and that, permanently picking up the broken pieces of me.

My face is covered in a red blush as I lead Techno and Will into the back room and out into the alley behind the Caffe.

“What are you two doing here?” I face them with a furious expression.

Wilbur looks taken aback, and Techno just seems concerned.

“We’ve been looking for you all night and morning!” Techno exclaims.

“What?”

“When we got back from hanging out with some friends, you weren't home, and we panicked!” Will flails his arms around as he speaks.

I pinch my eyebrows and sigh, “Let me guess, dad was at work?

They share a strange look, “Yeah, why?”

I sigh again; I'm doing that a lot these days. “Whatever, can I go back to work now?”

“Tommy! You can’t just disappear and not answer any of our texts or calls!” Wilbur sounds distraught.

I pause. They sent the texts and made the calls. They texted me. With my number. They knew my number. They knew my number this whole time. Eight years. Eight years and they knew my fucking number the entire time.

My face contorts in anger, and I feel my eyes sting with unshed tears. “Get out,” I mumble.

“What?” Techno asks after a beat.

“GET OUT!” I point towards the exit of the alley and scream at them.

Wilbur looks ready to keep fighting, but Techno just shakes his head and pulls him by the arm out of the alley. I listen until I no longer hear their retreating footsteps.

I crouch down on my knees and shove my fists into my eyes, pushing as hard as possible, hoping that I might lose my eyesight this time. I breathe heavily. I can’t stop the incoherent mumbles and noises I make as I claw at the sides of my face. Nobody is honest, nobody is real. You can't trust anyone or anything. Emotions are humanity's fatal disease. And we're all dying.

I know that’s nihilistic bullshit, but I don’t care. I feel guilty about being hurt cause there are other people hurting. Why am I like this? What’s wrong with me?

I feel my breath picking up; I can't let this happen. I hit myself in the head multiple times with the palm of my hand before standing up and just staring at the wall. I don’t take deep breaths or use the grounding techniques Puffy taught me. I just stare at the wall and smile.

I wipe my eyes with my apron and go back to work.

~~~

When I get home, I plan to go to my room and write until I get carpal tunnel but instead when I walk through the door, I'm greeted by the person I hate most; my father.

“Tommy! You're finally here!” He smiles wide. I want to rip my face off.

“You can join us for dinner.” Phill walks towards the dining room. I follow behind.

Will and Techno are sitting on opposite sides of the table, sharing a conflicted look.

I sit down at the table and stare at my lap. There’s food from some burger place across the table, but I don’t feel very hungry. Phil smiles and starts eating; he’s oblivious to the evident tension in the room.

“How was work, Tommy?” Phil asks in a sweet tone, the kind of sweet tone a father would use. I want to hide in my closet and hug Henry close to my chest while I sob.

“It was fine,” I don’t eat.

“When did you even get that job? It must have been recent since I don’t remember it,” I pinch my forearm to keep from screaming.

“I got it two months after I turned fourteen,” I state calmly.

“Oh,” he seems surprised but quickly goes back to eating.

“Why aren’t you eating Toms?” Wilbur speaks in a soft and slightly fearful tone, as if afraid that ill yell at him again.

“I became vegetarian like, two years ago.” the room goes quiet and not even Phil can ignore the strained atmosphere.

I can’t do this. “I'm gonna go to bed early,” I push the chair back and stand up.

Phil doesn’t acknowledge me, but Will and Tech give me murmured goodbyes.

I open my window and grab my bag, immediately climbing down to walk to the park. One of these days, I'm going to forget how to wake up.

Chapter Text

I was 10 when they left.

I wouldn't say that everything changed once Will and Techno left. It’s not like Phil suddenly stopped talking to me the day they got on a plane to university.

There were warning signs, ones I chose to ignore. Like the way Techno spent more time in his room and less time with me or how Wilbur and Phil’s fights were becoming more and more frequent and increasingly loud.

Phil was never the best father. I have no clue why but he just never seemed to see me in the same light as his other two perfect sons. The second I was born, it's like he had no more love left to give.

Or maybe it has nothing to do with Phil; maybe I'm just such an unbearable person that no one can stomach the thought of loving me.

The day Techno and Wilbur left was quiet; they left early in the morning and forgot to wake me up to even say goodbye. But the night before they left was the third worst day of his life.

‘I put my hand over my mouth to stop the sob from escaping. I’m in my closet; I dragged all my pillows and blankets in here to hopefully ignore the screaming coming from downstairs; it's not working very well. In my hands is Henry, the beat-up old stuffie that I will never stop carrying around. I'm wearing an old sweater of Techno’s and one of Wilbur’s many beanies. I will not be giving them back to my brothers before they leave.

As much as I try and plug my ears, I can hear all the yelling thanks to the vent next to me that leads right to the living room.

“What about all the friends you have that are staying in L’manburg for school?” I hear my father's shriek. Both Will and Tech got amazing scholarships to schools in America; dad thinks they shouldn’t go.

“They didn’t get the opportunity the two of us have! Shouldn’t you be happy?” I listen as Will shouts back.

“I am happy! But you're my sons; I'm worried about you! I would much prefer if you just stayed here!”

“This isn’t about you, dad! We’re not kids anymore! Were 18!” Techno responds, less loud than the other two but still clearly aggravated.

“What about your little brother? Don’t you feel bad about abandoning him here?”

Wilbur lets out an angry shout, “Stop it! You always guilt-trip us to try to get your way! Well, it's not gonna work; I don’t feel bad about leaving that brat at all!”

My breath catches in my throat. Wilbur continues, “You don't even take care of him! You force Techno and me to watch him while you fuck off to who knows where claiming you’re busy with “work!” do you think I want to spend my days watching that annoying little shit?”

The tears fall down my face. I force myself to cover my ears as I bury myself into my blankets and sob as quietly as I can manage. When I walk up the following day, the house is empty; something I will have to get used to in the years to come.’

~~~

I was eleven when I met Ranboo and Tubbo.

It had been a year since my brothers left, and I was in a horrible place. I went from being the happy kid who became everyone's friend to the quiet kid who sat in the back of the class in a matter of weeks. I stopped talking to all my friends, and since we were young kids who didn’t know what to do, they stopped talking to me.

It was a cool autumn day. I was in the middle of writing in my notebook when two people randomly sat down on either side of me. I cautiously glance up to see a short grinning brown haired boy. He's wearing a green shirt and has a flower crown in his hair.

“Hi! I'm Tubbo!” he extends his hand to me; I give it a quizzical look before taking it in mine and shaking it.

“Uh, Hi,” I mentally kick myself for the way my voice wavers.

Suddenly Tubbo is reaching over me to point at the kid on my other side. “This is Ranboo!”

I look over and see an incredibly tall person with floppy blond hair and a black and white split mask on his face. “Hi! I, uh, I use they/them pronouns.”

I give them a small smile and turn back to see Tubbo grinning so wide his eyes are no longer visible. I can't fight back a smile at seeing his expression.

“I'm Tommy!” I feel my heart spark to life for the first time in over a year.

~~~

I was 13 on the second worst day of my life; it was also coincidentally the day I had my first attempt. I had started self-harming shortly before, and my thighs were a testament to how low I was already feeling when that fateful day arrived.

It was around 5:30 when I decided I should probably stop blasting music in my ears and go downstairs to eat something that I would inevitably vomit up anyways. But when I removed my headphones, I could hear the faint sound of my father talking in his office.

Assuming it was work, I rolled my eyes and left my room to prepare myself food. Walking down the stairs, the voice became more evident, but I still couldn't determine exactly what was being said.

It wasn’t until I sat down at the table with a grilled cheese in front of me and my phone in hand did I finally hear.

It was muffled, but my father was speaking loud enough that I could just make out a few sentences.

“I miss you boys so much! You know, I'm so lucky we've been able to have these weekly calls to catch up!”

The half of the sandwich I had already eaten was quickly making its way up my throat, and in my haste to rush to the bathroom, I knocked over the chair I was sitting in seconds earlier.

I quickly kneeled down and flipped the toilet seat up, emptying my stomach contents as quickly as possible. The back of my mouth burned, and I could feel tears running down my face. I throw up for so long that I eventually run out of food to get rid of and just dry heave over the bowl for another few minutes.

Every week.

They'd been calling home every week since they left. For over three years, I could take the smallest amount of solace in the fact that they not only weren't talking to me, they also chose to ignore our father. But no, they somehow still held enough love in their hearts to contact the man they resented so much, love that they apparently didn't have for me.

As I stood on shaking legs, I heard an angry shout from outside the bathroom. “Tommy! Clean up your mess!” I then hear the front door slam shut. It must be work.

I looked at myself in the mirror, and suddenly, it was all too much. Things won’t change; I had given them three years to change. Waiting. Waiting for the door to open and reveal my brother's, waiting to wake up one morning and see that dad was actually home. Waiting to feel better.

But that wasn’t going to happen, was it?

I left the bathroom and stalked up to my room. Grabbing my notebook off my bed, I started writing.

I talked about my family first. I talked about how I hate Techno and Will for leaving, and I talked about how I forgive them. I talked about how I hate Phil for never leaving but never truly staying either, and I talked about how ill never forgive him.

Next, I mention Tubbo and Ranboo. I talk about how happy I am that I had the chance to meet them, and I say that they are the only ones allowed to keep my ashes.

After that was done, I walked to the bathroom again and opened the medicine cabinet, grabbing the sleeping pills and filling up a glass with water. The bottle wasn't full, so I just took all that was left and hoped and prayed that it would be enough to kill me.

After swallowing them all, I returned the bottle and walked upstairs to my room. I put on Wilbur’s beanie and Techno’s sweater. I held henry close and buried myself in my covers, the note on my bedside table.

I woke up the next morning and went to school. I never told anyone. No one noticed.

~~~

I was 14 when I joined the writing club.

Ranboo joined first, and a week later, they couldn’t stop talking about it.

“One of you has to join! It's so much fun!” they were rambling while the three of us were at lunch.

“There’s no way I'm joining a reading or writing club.” that response was to be expected from Tubbo.

“Ok fine! But what about you, Tommy? I see you writing all the time!”

“Uh, I don't know if I’d feel comfortable sharing my writing with other people,” especially considering how most of my stories were just me trauma dumping onto characters and then killing them off. I also don’t really do anything unless I actually want to do it. And most of the time, I don’t want to do anything at all.

“You don’t have to share! It's mostly just hanging out while we read and write,” Ranboo quickly assures.

“I- I don't know,” I sigh.

“Just think about it, ok?”

I nod my head.

It isn't until a week later that I actually work up the nerve to go to one of the meetings. Ranboo is ecstatic. They even meet me after class on Monday so we can walk to the library together.

When we walk in, I see the high school English teacher, two girls I don't recognize, and one boy I do recognize. The boy is one of the typical “popular boys” named Purpled; I don't know much about him, in all honesty.

“Hey, Ranboo! This the new kid?” the short dirty blond haired girl approaches us.

“Yes! This is Tommy!” Hearing Ranboo say my name with so much enthusiasm makes me want to punch myself.

“Nice to meet you! I’m Drista, this is Aimsey, and that's Purpled.” She smiles.

I hesitantly smile back and notice a warm feeling growing in my chest.

~~~

I was 14 when I got my first job.

I had been working up the nerve to apply to the Cafe ever since I became the legal age to actually apply for work.

So taking a deep breath, I walked into the building.

There was an older man behind the corner, and I waited patiently in line until I was right in front of the counter.

He greeted me with a warm smile. “Welcome to the Bad Day Cafe; how can we make your day better?”

“I- Uhm, I was hoping that I could apply for a job here?” I stammer, and my hands shake as I hand over my resume.

He looks surprised for a moment before he returns to his signature smile. “Oh! Of course, we’ve actually been looking for new help recently, can’t only employ my son, now can I?” he laughs, and I politely chuckle with him.

I leave the bakery with a smile on my face and hope in my heart.

~~~

I was 15 when I found my second favourite hobby.

It started with me having some extra money and feeling reckless. And it ended with me buying a used drum kit off Kijiji and shoving it into the corner in my room where my beanbag previously resided.

Turns out hitting something that makes a lot of noise is a great hobby for people with pent-up anger and neglectful fathers who are never home to complain about the noise.

~~~

I was 16 on the worst day of my life.

It was April ninth, my birthday. Every year since they had left, my birthday had faded into the background. So, once a year, I would wake up to find a shitty store-bought birthday card on my bedside table along with twenty dollars. The same thing happened at Christmas, just with an envelope instead of a card.

I had woken up that day excited. Ranboo and Tubbo had said they planned on doing something “big” for my sweet 16. And Bad was sure to bake me something delicious as a present. I quickly checked my phone and smiled at the multiple happy birthday messages before suddenly seeing a text from my father.

I scowled, ‘what did he want?’ the text was from last night. I couldn't stop the way my heart perked up at the thought that maybe he had something planned for me. But, that tiny bit of hope was crushed when I opened the message.

‘Going to visit your brothers, be back in a week.’

Oh.

He left.

He left to visit them.

I held back my tears as I glanced at my bedside table. The only thing on it was my headphone case and a week-old glass of water.

My body skipped straight from tears to violent sobs. I shook as I coughed and screamed and wailed.

‘Why? Why are they so much more important than me?’

I don’t remember how long I sat there, letting snot run down my face as my vision became spotty. But I do know that eventually, I snapped. Something in me broke, and I decided it was time for attempt number seven.

I had overdosed all the other times; I was too scared to do anything else. But this time, I wasn’t thinking clearly. This time, I didn’t write a note. This time, I didn’t prepare my body for death. No, this time, I marched into the kitchen, grabbed the biggest knife I could find, and walked to the bathroom.

I layed down in the still damp bathtub and brought the knife to my wrists.

I guess I should be lucky that Tubbo and Ranboo had come to my house that morning intending to surprise me for my birthday. I should be grateful that Ranboo had taken all those first aid classes and could stitch me up and inevitably save my life. But all I felt was guilt when I woke up in my room to my two sobbing best friends.

The bracelets were birthday gifts. I don't take them off for a reason.

~~~

I'm 17 currently.

I still have Wilbur’s hat and Techno’s sweater.

Tubbo and Ranboo are still my best friends.

My dad still loves his other two sons more than me.

I still love to write.

I still work at The Bad Day Cafe.

I still play the drums.

I still want to kill myself.

I still haven’t told anyone.

Chapter Text

“Fuck!” I curse under my breath when my foot gets stuck in one of the holes of the trellis. I wait for a moment expecting to see Wilbur or Techno burst out the back door and confront me. Nothing changes; I still hear the faint chatter from the kitchen.

I sigh and start heading for the back gate. Today, though, I'm not going to the park. Instead, I walk to the front lawn, and then I walk to the end of the block, where I see Sapnap’s obnoxious red minivan that he got as a birthday gift from Bad. (it was the old Cafe delivery van that was and still is falling apart.)

I slide open the door and buckle myself into the seat. There's music blasting through the speakers, and the instruments in the back of the van jostle as Sapnap speeds away.

“Hey, Tommy!” Quackity grins and ruffles my hair, George gives me a nod, and Karl looks up from his phone where he was reading and seems surprised that more people are suddenly in the car.

“So! Are you ready for the show tonight, Toms?” Sapnap’s voice is dripping with excitement as he turns around to grin at me. Subsequently, he ends up swerving to narrowly avoid something on the road.

“Eyes on the road, dickhead!” I shout with no malice in my voice. “And to answer your question, of course I'm excited!”

Sapnap laughs, and the rest of the drive is spent singing along to the music blowing out the van’s weak speakers.

===

The twins wait until they see Tommy’s shadow disappear to end their fake conversation.

“We’re following him, right?” Techno asks the moment he leaves.

“Of course we are, Techno!”

The brothers run out just in time to see Tommy disappear into a minivan, grinning. Techno practically pushes Will into the driver's seat as they start trailing behind the poorly painted car.

Wilbur gasps.

“What!” Techno asks, worry evident in his voice.

“Look who’s driving the car!”

Once Techno sees who’s behind the wheel, he clenches his fists, “I knew there was something off about him.”

Wilbur scoffs, “What, other than him threatening us for nothing?”

Neither man mentions how they don’t think it was for nothing.

=

The lights are harsh when me and the rest of the band step onto the stage. It's so bright, in fact, that I can’t make out a single face in the crowd. It's loud, uncomfortably so. I'm thrilled that Sapnap gave me a pair of earplugs before we went on.

I settle myself into the stool and grab the sparkly blue drumsticks.

=

After struggling to find parking on a surprisingly busy street Techno and Will watch as Tommy disappears down a set of side stairs with four other men. Noticing that that door was probably only for backstage, the twins followed the crowd until they eventually found themselves in a dingy mob of people.

Tired of all the night's confusion, Will taps on someone's shoulder. The person is wearing a simple white shirt with three hearts on it. It has a pair of rectangle glasses and a green barrette on its hair.

“Excuse me, but what's going on here?” Wilbur hesitantly asks. The person doesn't seem confused by the question at all and gives a big smile.

“Your at the Feral Boys’ concert, of course! I'm Charlie, he/it pronouns.” The person-Charlie- extends its hand, and Wilbur hesitantly shakes it.

“Uh, who are the Feral Boys?” Techno asks.

Charlie smiles wider and pulls out his phone, pulling up a photo and presenting it to the brothers. In the image is Charlie, front and center, hanging off the shoulder of a guy in a blue beanie, covered in piercings and tattoos. The man in the beanie’s face is annoyed, but his eyes hold nothing but fondness. In the back on a couch-The Twins now realize that this photo was most likely taken in someone's basement- is Sapnap with a brown-haired man in a purple sweater on his lap. On a chair in the other corner is a man with a drumkit with a white mask with a smiley face on it on his face. However, what startles the two the most is that their little brother is scribbling in a notebook on the floor.

“Who’s that?” Techno points at the phone, and Charlie makes a face.

“Oh, that's Dream; he’s the drummer. In all honesty, he's a bit of an ass hole, but he’s the lead singer Sapnap’s friend, so it’s whatever.”

Wilbur huffs, annoyed at the zero answers he’s been getting for the entirety of his visit to L’Manburg. “Not him! The one in the red sweater!”

Charlie immediately brightens, “Oh! That's Tommy; he's like a little brother to pretty much everyone he meets! Well, not so little nowadays.” Charlie mumbles the last bit to himself. The brothers ignore it.

Before Wilbur can get jealous of a bunch of random strangers, the lights turn on and the band steps onto the stage. However, replacing Dream is none other than Tommy Watson.

The brothers rush to be near the front of the stage and stand in shock as Sapnap begins to speak.

“Hello everybody! Now today, we have a replacement drummer, and this song we’re about to play was actually written by him. So, without further ado, this song is called “Disobedient,” written by Thomas Watson.”

The song starts with a guitar riff.

“Thank you, Thank you, Thank you!

Thank you for gracing me with your presence!

Good afternoon, sir
What can I do, sir?
Just say the word, sir
Anything for you, sir
Your friends all say, sir
You don't deserve her
I disagree, sir
I live to serve, sir”

The song suddenly picked up, and Sapnap started screaming into the mic.

“I think about all the wasted time I've spent
I wanna be disobedient
I stood awake wondering where my summers went
I wanna be disobedient
Disobedient, disobedient

I've been good, sir
So very, very good for what?
And I've given you
Every single thing I've got
It's feeling strange, man
This whole arrangement
Is gonna end with me totally deranged”

Techno and Will were in awe at the performance. While most were dancing along to the lyrics and focusing on the three men in the front, the brothers were transfixed by their younger sibling and his drum skills.

He was putting his all into the show, hitting the drums with as much force as possible. A huge grin on his face.

“When I think about all the wasted time I've spent
I wanna be disobedient
I stood awake wondering where my summers went
I wanna be disobedient
Disobedient, disobedient”

The song suddenly slowed down, and Sapnap stepped aside so Tommy could be seen better.

“I want to be disobedient”

Tommy starts to sing, and the twins can’t help the pride that spikes in their chests.

“I want to be disobedient

Disobedient, disobedient, disobedient”

The song finally came to a close, and the crowd erupted in cheers, with Wilbur and Techno being some of the loudest.

But there was no respite as the show went on.

=

I breathe a sigh of relief as Sapnap finally finishes singing the final words of the last song of the night.

“We have been the Feral Boys, good night!”

The crowd erupts in applause and shouts of excitement. I smile wide; today was a good day. Maybe helping Sapnap wasn’t the worst thing I could have done.

As the stage lights dim and other lights in the bar go on, I'm finally able to see the crowd. And there, standing front and centre, are Wil and Techno. They’re grinning and whopping while clapping louder than anyone else in the building.

I pale and quickly rush backstage. Before I can start worriedly biting my nails, Sapnap runs up to me.

“I’m sorry, Toms, that wasn’t too much, was it? Oh god, I shouldn’t have announced your name like that-”

“No! Sap, it’s fine. That was fine. I just- I, ugh! I saw my brothers in the crowd.” I twist my fingers into the bomber jacket I'm wearing.

Sapnap has a sad, conflicted look on his face. “Listen, Toms, I know you don't like to talk about your brothers, and I know that I probably don't even have the full story, but I think you should give them a chance. Maybe you should try to talk to them, even if it's just for one night.”

I bite my bottom lip. “I- I mean, I guess I could try.”

Sapnap smiles, small and sweet. “We’ll be backstage if you need us, ok?”

“Ok,”

I walk into the central area of the bar and see my brothers chatting animatedly with Charlie. As I approach, Charlie looks uncomfortable and protective; he quickly steps in front of me.

“Hey, Tommy, maybe stay backstage.” Charlie leans in close, “These guys are weirdly into you.”

Techno sputters, and Will starts to argue, but they are all intercepted by my loud joyous laughter.

“It's fine, Charlie! They’re my brothers!” I smile and pat his shoulder.

“Oh!”

“Why don’t you go backstage and hang out with Quack?” I propose, and the man smiles and quickly rushes off.

I face my brothers and see that both have smiles-Will’s much bigger than Techno’s- on their faces and warm glints in their eyes.

“What?” I ask warily.

“This is the first time I've heard you laugh in the past 7 years.” Wilbur looks so happy, and I feel my face heat up.

“You were so good, Theseus!” I almost tear up at the combination of a compliment and the old nickname.

“Y-you think so?”

“Of course! You were amazing! When did you learn?” Wilbur asks.

“Oh, I learned when I was fifteen,”

“Tommy! I can’t believe this! And your voice, Prime, your voice! We have to play together sometime!” Will grins.

That's all I've ever wanted. I'd be lying if I said that when I was learning the drums I didn’t think of potentially playing with Wilbur one day.

I suddenly become aware of where I am. How loud it is and how close people are. I'm very suddenly uncomfortable.

“Hey, can we go home? I'm getting tired.”

“Yeah, of course, Bubs!” Wilbur ruffles my hair, and I quickly text Sapnap telling him I'm leaving.

I can’t stop smiling the whole drive home. Maybe for as bad as Phil is, Techno and Will can still try and be better. I still haven't forgiven them, and I'm far from it, but this is a start.

Tomorrow will be a good day.

~~~

It’s Saturday. I wake up and throw on a hoodie before walking downstairs. I yawn and stretch as I pull out the milk from the fridge. I finally notice that Techno and Will are sitting at the table talking-seemingly about last night- and both tell me good morning when I see them.

I sit down at the table, and the three of us chat. It's domestic and sweet. It almost feels natural.

And then our father has to ruin it.

He waltzes in with a big smile on his face. “Hello, boys! I thought that today we could do something together!” I grimace and plan to come up with some bullshit excuse when the doorbell rings.

I stand. “I'll get it.”

I open the door, and my breath gets stuck in my throat. On the porch is a grinning Ranboo and Tubbo. Tubbo is holding a clearly homemade cake that is covered in uneven icing and messy sprinkles. Ranboo has a bright red balloon with the words “Happy Birthday, Daniel!” written on it.

“Happy birthday, Toms!” Tubbo shouts, and I wince.

I smile despite myself. Of course, they would do this; they always care so much.

“Who’s at the door?” The rest of my family walks into the foyer, and my smile disappears.

“Tommy, who are these two?” Wilbur means no malice in the question, but Tubbo’s face scrunches up in frustration.

“Who are we? Were Tommy’s partners!”

All three men look confused.

“We’re in a queer-platonic relationship!” Ranboo rushes to answer.

Phil finally looks at what my partners are holding and gives a confused smile. “Is it one of you boys' birthdays?”

Ranboo winces at the “boys” and then pales at the rest of the comment.

“What are you talking about? Today is Tommy’s birthday.”

Wilbur and Techno share horrified looks, but Phil just shakes his head, stubborn as always.

“I’m sorry, boys, but I think Tommy lied to you; today isn’t his birthday.”

Tubbo looks enraged and opens his mouth to speak, but I hold up a hand to stop him. I face Phil with sunken eyes and a blank face.

“Phil?”

“What, Tommy?” he seems annoyed by the whole situation.

“How old am I?”

He sighs. “You’re sixteen.”

I choke on a sob, and Tubbo sets the cake down while he and Ranboo rush to my side.

Phil scoffs, “Why are you acting like this?”

I wipe my eyes and face my father with a vicious expression.

“I turned eighteen today, asshole!”

Phil seems affronted by the new knowledge and tries to match my anger to cover for the fact that he forgot his own son's age.

“Do not swear at your father!”

“I don’t know why I’m surprised! This is the third year in a row that you’ve forgotten it!”

“What? Dad, is this true?” Techno faces Phil, but he ignores him.

“Stop pretending like you were abandoned!” he yells and points an accusatory finger at me while he takes a step forward.

“I WAS ABANDONED!”

I sniffle. Phil looks shocked by my volume. “Over eight years ago, I had to accept that my brothers were never coming back! I had to accept that I would never get another Christmas or birthday present. I had to come to terms with the fact that my father no longer enjoyed talking to me! That you no longer loved me!”

“Well, I'm sorry that I couldn’t give you all my undivided attention because I was busy providing for you! But you survived, didn't you?”

I choke back another cry of anguish. “But I almost didn’t! Because I was thirteen trying to overdose in my bedroom! Or the time I was 14 passed out in an alley drunk off my ass because I didn’t want to go home, or what about when I was sixteen and slitting my wrists in the BATHROOM!”

I scream the last word and realize distantly that my sleeves have rolled up and my scars are on full display.

“Tommy?” Techno’s voice is muddled and muted, and my ears are ringing.

It feels like my head is full of cotton, someone is telling me to breathe, but I don’t know if I can. Then, all of a sudden, I'm on the ground.

I hear distant screaming as the world goes black.

Chapter Text

I wake up to an infuriating beeping.

I groan and try to reach for my phone to turn off my alarm, but my hand just hits hard plastic. I slowly blink my eyes and realize I'm not in my room. In fact, by the looks of it, I'm in the hospital.

The room is empty, and a window next to me casts the room in a warm glow. My arm aches, and I look at it to find old puncture wounds where my blood was most likely drawn. My head hurts, and my mouth feels like it's full of glue.

I hear faint whispers from outside the room, and suddenly the door is opening to reveal a tired-looking Techno and Wilbur. Their eyes widen, and Techno nearly drops the coffee he's holding.

“Toms, you're awake!” Will rushes over and immediately wraps me in a warm hug. Wow, this is the first time I've been hugged by a family member in who knows how long. I melt into the embrace as Techno sets his and Will’s coffee down on a side table, pulls a chair close to the bed and sits down, staring at me regretfully.

Wilbur lets go of me, and I hold back a whine.

“How are you feeling?” Techno quickly asks.

“My head kinda hurts, but other than that, I'm fine.”

“Good.” Wilbur has a steely expression with something hidden in his eyes.

“Uh, can I ask though, what happened?”

“You don't remember Theseus?”

“I- uh, I remember Tubbo and Ranboo coming over and then the… fight, but after that, it’s all a little blurry.”

Wilbur breaths out, trying to calm himself and tentatively begins speaking, “after you admitted to… everything, you were already having a panic attack, but it was just getting worse then…” Wilbur pauses, a furious expression crossing both his and Techno’s face.

“What?” I ask, scared.

Wilbur seems to be fighting tears, so Techno grapes his hand and gives it a light squeeze before deciding to continue the conversation himself, “After that, Phil,” Techno spits the name with venom, and I realize distantly that this entire visit, they’ve been calling him “dad” now they have joined me in calling our father by his first name. “He- He hit you,” he says it like it's the worst thing to ever happen, and part of me feels joy at having my brother care so much about my well-being. However, the rest of me feels like it’s drowning in the knowledge that my father hit me.

Suddenly my mind feels clearer, and I remember the stinging on my cheek as I fell to the ground, the world spinning out of control.

I wince and look down at my lap. “Oh,”

We sit in silence for a bit, my mind racing. I'm finally eighteen, I had a whole plan for this, but now everything is falling apart. I have a savings account, and so do Ranboo and Tubbo. Our goal was to move out the moment I turned eighteen. But now, I'm sitting in the hospital on my birthday next to my estranged brothers.

I hear Wilbur sigh heavily, “Listen, Bubs, we were thinking-”

Before Will can get to the crux of his point, the three of us turn our heads toward the door. Coming from the other side of the door are shouts from a familiar voice.

“I’m his father! I should be able to see him!”

I flinch.

Techno reaches over and grabs my hand, so now all three of us are joined together. After more shouting, the door eventually swings open to reveal none other than Phil Watson.

He rushes forward and tries to grab my free hand, but I flinch back, and he has an angry expression flash over his face before he returns to a forced smile.

“Oh, Tommy, I'm so glad you’re ok!”

All three of us are too shocked to respond, and Phil takes this as his chance to continue.

“Listen, I know we had some… disagreements, but I just hope you know I love you,”

“Phil-”

“But don’t think this means I've forgotten about your little stunts. I know sometimes teens want attention, but this is not the way to go about it! This- this phase is not acceptable.”

“Dad-” this time, it's Wilbur trying to put an end to his rambling.

“You know I would appreciate it if you were more grateful for everything I've done for you. Besides, there are people out there who have it much worse than you and trying to dump all that information on me to make me feel guilty about a small mistake is a horrible overreaction.”

“Dad, can we please-” now it's Techno's turn.

“It’s always something with you. It’s not that hard to try and be a stable, normal person-”

“PHIL!” I shout, and he seems mildly surprised and heavily annoyed.

Silent tears roll down my cheeks, and I grip Techno's hand impossibly tighter.

Techno squeezes back just as firm, and he and Will stare at their father with a threatening glare.

“Phil, I think it’s time you leave.”

“Fine, but once you're discharged, I expect this little game to be over.” he finishes with an accusatory finger pointed at me before disappearing out the door.

The three of us all let out collective sighs of relief s he leaves.

“Listen, Tommy, we've been thinking about this a lot, and we think you should come and live with one of us.”

I stutter and snap my gaze at Will. “W-what?”

“We know for a fact that it's not good for you to stay home anymore, and we refuse to leave you behind again.” Techno holds my hand with both of his.

“Please, Tommy, we can’t lose you again,” Wilbur begs.

I take a deep breath and steady myself. “Listen, I've had a plan to move out for a while. Me, Tubbo and Ranboo have all been saving up to get our own place once we graduate. I can take care of myself just fine.”

“We know you can, but that doesn’t mean you should.” Wilbur is firm, and he leaves no room for debate.

“I graduate in a month; ill be fine!”

The twins do the thing they always do and have a silent conversation with just facial expressions. Eventually, they both nod at each other and turn back to me.

“Ok, you don't have to stay with us.” Techno relents.

I sigh.

“So, we’ll be staying with you until you graduate.”

I stutter, but they both just give me simple smiles. Techno snorts when I start cursing them out, and Wil just giggles and ruffles my hair.

Right now, things aren't perfect. I wouldn’t even say that they’re good, but I have hope for the first time in eight years.

Today, right here, right now, I already feel fine.

Chapter Text

“Are you sure about this?” Phil taps his foot.

I stay quiet, walking up the stairs to grab another box. When I step back down, Phil is waiting, staring at me like he’s waiting for me to make one wrong move so he can shame me. Who am I kidding? He definitely is.

I walk out the open door and set the cardboard box on the front lawn.

“You know you won’t be getting any handouts from me.” Phil sneers.

I grit my teeth, and despite my better judgment, I respond. “I don’t plan on asking for so-called handouts.”

Phil scoffs “you say that now, but in a couple of months, you'll be crawling back, begging me to help you out.”

I have to clench my fists to stop from punching my father in the face. “I haven't needed your help for a long time, old man.” I let out a bitter laugh.

“Where did all this disrespect come from? You were such a happy child, always smiling and laughing. When did you become so depressed?”

“Huh, I wonder when I became so depressed? Maybe it was when you stopped talking to me at the ripe age of ten!”

“This again? You know, I think it's those boys you always hang around; what were their names again? Ranboo and Toby or something? Whatever it may be, they're a bad influence on you.”

My rage burns brighter at the insult to my partners. “Ranboo isn't a boy.”

Phil sighs and rubs his temples as if this is hard for him . “I'm not interested in getting into another debate with you on “pronouns” just so you can avoid blame like always.”

“You know what, id like you to tell me how I'm at fault for all of this”

Phil falters but quickly continues. “I have nothing to prove to you.”

“No, please! Explain to me how the suicidal teenager is to blame for being neglected!”

Our volume is rising, and I can see the neighbours watching us from their windows out of the corner of my eye. 

“I provided for you; I put a roof over your head and food on your plate!” Phil sounds aghast at my “disrespect.”

“That is what parents are supost to do. That is the bare minimum. You don’t get to hold the fact that you didn't starve me over my head!”

“I did not raise you to be this disrespectful!”

“YOU DIDN’T RAISE ME AT ALL! ”

Phil stares at me with clear disgust.

“And you know what? I don't think I ever want to speak to you again!”

“You… Brat!”  Phil looks like he's going to hit me(again), but before he has the chance, Tubbo’s shitty Jeep pulls up in the driveway.

He honks the horn incessantly. “TOMMY!” Tubbo yells with joy as the back doors open to reveal Techno and Wilbur.

Will looks nauseous, and Techno seems unsettled. “Theseus, your friend is a terrible driver.”

As my brothers and partners pile out of the car, an uneasy silence falls on all of us when they see the look on Phil's face and the way my whole body is tensed up, expecting a hit.

Ranboo holds my hand while Tech and Will give our father death glares. Tubbo tries to lighten the mood while he picks up two boxes far too easily than should be possible. 

“Well, come on, Toms! The apartment isn't going to be moved into on its own!”

I smile and squeeze Ranboo’s hand. “Yeah, your right.”

The five of us start to put the boxes in Tubbo’s car while Phil continues to send us death glares.

“You're really doing this?” Phil asks as I get into the passenger seat (this time with Techno driving, to all of our insistence)

“Yes, yes I am.”

The start of my new life has already gotten off to a rocky start, but it’s fine. No one said healing would be easy, no one said I would magically get better. 

But sitting in this car, my family singing along to some terrible pop song on the radio, the wind blowing in my hair. I find myself smiling much wider than I have in a very long time. 

it’s not the same anymore, because it got better.