Archive of Our Own ^beta

“Hello Tommyinnit from nowhere!”

“Hi Slime.”

Tommy said this with a sigh, clearly fed up with Wilbur and Quackity bickering again. They both fought over the littlest of things, but today it seems they were fighting over him again. He doesn’t even know why he tags along with Wilbur anymore, the man that used to be his brother hardly speaks to him. He calls Tommy “important” and then goes and hangs out with Ranboo . 

Ranboo, the boy who stole not only his best friend, but his family as well. Yet Tommy couldn’t seem to hate him for it. He was just too kind, too damn likeable , that Tommy sees why Tubbo, why Wilbur and Techno and Phil would all choose them over him. It made sense, as much as he hates to admit it. 

And yet Wilbur is still so adamant that Tommy stays with him, stays with his replacement and the guy who idolizes his murderer, when he’d really rather be anywhere else. 

Wilbur wore the jacket from Pogtopia again, something he hadn’t seen since Ghostbur showed up. Man, Tommy misses Ghostbur, although most of his memories of the friendly spirit were from exile. He misses the blue gently placed into his hands whenever he cried, instead of the harsh yells to “suck it up!” Wilbur had to frequently do whenever going on tangents about Dream. 

Dream . His torturer, his murderer, who Wilbur seemed to idolize so much. It’s been like that since Pogtopia, actually, and Tommy doesn’t know how he didn’t realize it sooner. 

“-innit? Tommyinnit? Your brother is calling for you.”

Tommy’s head snapped back up to Slimecicle, who was wearing the closest expression to concern that a slime could have. 

He knew what he had to do. 

“Remember where you belong, Tommy! Here, with me! Your brother!”

Wilbur and Quackity wouldn’t stop arguing over him. Why either of them would want him, he didn’t know. Maybe it was just another reason for them to argue. Maybe, somewhere deep down, they both actually cared for him. If it was the latter, this was a shit way of showing it. 

“Who destroyed L’manburg, Tommy? Who destroyed L’manburg?”

 Wilbur destroyed L’manburg. Wilbur idolized Dream. Wilbur, Wilbur, Wilbur . Tommy couldn’t stand it. Couldn’t stand him. 

“I think I’d like to go with you, Quackity.”

At that, Quackity grinned in triumph while Wilbur’s head snapped in Tommy’s direction, a mix of shock and anger on his face. It’s like he never expected that, after disregarding his feelings, belittling him, and lying to him despite how much he liked to claim otherwise, that Tommy would ever betray him. 

“That’s great, Tommy! Come come, let me show you around! I think our argument is over, Wilbur.”

Quackity spun on his heel and beckoned Tommy to follow him, leaving Wilbur sputtering and yelling expletives at the border. 

“You’ll regret this, Toms! You’ll come crawling back to me, just like you always do!” 

Somehow, Tommy doubted that. 

“-And this is the Needle, it’s got a wonderful view, by the way, and that’s Tubburger over there. Oh and-“

Tommy wasn’t really listening at all. He was content to follow Quackity and listen to him talk, because he could in fact just listen, thank you very much. He knew he talked a lot but he could be quiet when he wanted. 

This was already a lot better than Wil’s burger van. Quackity hadn’t gone to talk to someone else, and hasn’t yelled at him once ! And the place was beautiful. 

The buildings were huge and intricate, and it was clear that Big Q loved them. Distantly, he could hear that Quackity was talking about him meeting the other members of Las Nevadas and finding him a place to stay. Tommy nodded along absently, before Q set a hand on his shoulder. 

He didn’t mean to freeze up, but he did. 

“ Please don’t hurt me Wil, please please please I’ll be good don’t send me back to Dream please- “

That’s not what Quackity expected when he slung his arm over Tommy’s shoulder. He could tell the kid was kind of out of it, the glazed over look in his eyes familiar to him. He just wanted to gently knock the boy back into reality, not cause what is looking like a panic attack. 

“Breathe with me kid, please. In two three four, hold two three four, out two three four five six seven eight. C’mon Tommy, you got this.”

He tapped out his counts as he spoke, and slowly saw awareness creep back into the boy’s eyes. Yes! Quackity really didn’t mean to scare Tommy like that. 

“Do you want me to stop touching you?”

Slowly, the boy nodded, and Quackity quickly moved his arm off of him, sidestepping to stand in front of Tommy. He looked aware, now, and he couldn’t be happier. 

“Now, care to tell me what that was?”

Quackity had heard what Tommy said, something about Wilbur handing him over to Dream. That bastard . That’s why Tommy is clearly safer in Las Nevadas, under Quackity’s and the rest of his crew’s care. He knew both Wilbur and him saw the boy as a little brother, but Wilbur was borderline obsessive , and clearly wasn’t taking care of him. Tommy was gaunt and skinny, and nothing like his usual loud, abrasive self. 

It worried Quackity, and he wanted nothing more than to wrap Tommy in bubble wrap and beat the absolute shit out of anyone who hurt him. All in due time, he reminded himself, all in due time. 

Quackity was practically staring him down, and while if it was Wilbur standing in front of him Tommy knew he’d feel uncomfortable, he somehow didn’t. There was something fierce and protective in the man’s eyes, and he couldn’t help but relax slightly. He trusted Quackity. 

“I freaked out a bit, sorry.”

Tommy didn’t tense for a hit like he would with Wilbur, or dismiss the situation to appease Dream, only telling the truth. 

“‘Freaking out’ is an understatement, Tommy. That was a panic attack.”

Tommy knew there was something wrong with him, Puffy had told him so, but he didn’t want to address it. She had called it some jumble of letters, and called him “traumatized”. He didn’t acknowledge it then, he didn’t want to be weak. But the way Quackity was looking at him with the utmost care in his eyes, Tommy decided to tell him the truth. 

“Uh- Puffy called it PTSB, or something.”

Quackity snorted at that, smiling at him in a way Tommy hasn’t seen since early L’manburg. 

“Do you mean PTSD, Tommy?”

He recognized it now, perking up at the correct term being mentioned. 

“Yeah! That’s what she called it!”

The boy had a childish grin on his face, seemingly glad at remembering that he had PTSD . Quackity got progressively angrier at anyone who had ever hurt his little brother as the conversation continued. Who would ever want to hurt that smile that looked like it could light up a whole room, that personality so loud you couldn’t miss it? 

“We’ll talk about that later, Tommy. You’re still seeing Puffy for therapy, right?”

Tommy nodded, and Quackity sighed in relief. That’s sorted, then. He should probably get Purpled to go too, he’d have to mark that down. 

“Let’s find you a place to stay, why don’t we?”

At that, Slime appeared out of the blue to presumably guide Tommy to the hotel. He had a habit of doing that, showing up whenever needed. Quackity internally thanked him for that. 

“Let’s go, Tommyinnit from Las Nevadas! The hotel is this way!”

Quackity swore that Tommy’s grin grew wider when he heard Slime’s new title for him. Quackity’s was also smiling, happy to watch the boy walk off, seemingly unaware of the goop covering the hand that Slime had grabbed. 

As soon as the pair were no longer visible, Quackity’s smile dropped. He had some people to deal with. 

No one could hurt his little brother.