Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Tommy loved when his mother would read him bedtime stories..

 He looked forward to it every single night. He would do anything to just lay there, tucked into bed with his mother sitting next to him reading from his favorite book.

‘And that's when he saw it, after so many years of being lost and alone, unable to find his way back home, but he was back now, he was finally back.’ She said, voice, soft and slicked with honey. She had long brown hair, and dark hazel nut eyes (that he loved so much).

One day after the sunset, he went to his mothers room (to ask her if she could read him to sleep) to find her laying on the floor; in a pull of her own blood.

He couldn't take his eyes off her. His shoulders tensed, he couldn't move his limbs; no matter how hard he tried. He just stood there, staring waiting for something to happen. Just waiting.

He could feel hot tears streaming down his stone cold face, making a shiver climb up his spine.

 He doesn't know how long he was standing there but it must have been a while considering his legs started aching. With a look of pure anguish, he took a step forward slowly making his way towards the still, numb body.

he kneeled down next to his motionless mother. He wrenched his hand away from his side shoulders still tense; he cupped his mothers cheek brushing at the tear stains.

“Mom?” he said, looking into her now cold and lifeless eyes.

All he could do was stare. He didn't know what to do. So he ran. He ran with every last drop of energy and strength he could manage to muster up.

And that leads us to where he was now, half dead in an abandoned alleyway. It was winter and all he had was a thin red jumper he had found draping over a park bench a few years back (it was a miracle it still fit him).

It was about midnight and he couldn't sleep, he had woken up due to a nightmare just hours prior. He had heard some shuffling, pulling himself out of his thoughts. He shot up looking around at his surroundings to find what had made the noise. 

To his surprise it was a crow that had been shuffling around in a nearby garbage can. The crow had a chipped beak. 

Sighing he layed back down on his makeshift bed, made up of mostly cardboard and dirty clothes he had found in a dumpster not too long ago.

But to his dismay the crow had just made even more noise than before, cawing and flapping its wings, just seeming to blow dust and dirt his way.

Annoyed, he twisted his body, now facing a wall, he closed his crystal blue eyes hoping he could fall back into the dream(nightmare) world, failing misrably. 

Suddenly, he felt something pecking at his back.

He lifted his head looking around, seeing the crow and sighing yet again. He shoos the bird away(the bird being quite stubborn but leaving eventually). As he settled down once again, he looked up into the clouded sky, unable to see the bright stars through the darkness that is night.

He was unable to sleep that night, just laying there until sunrise. He had to find a job today. He had gotten fired from his previous job(as an underpaid barista) by cussing out one of the customers. 

But in his defense they asked  for a black coffee with 10 shots of espresso, they would have literally had a heart attack.

Any-who he had needed to get a new job anyways (5 dollars an hour isn't really that much). He wandered down the streets looking for stores that were hiring (not finding a single one).

Roaming the streets it seemed that everyone was looking at him(did he have something on his face?) He knows he looks like dog crap but like there's no need to stare(that's just rude).

Pulling himself out of his loud head, he spotted a quiet little book store. There was a sign on the door informing everyone that walked by that they were hiring and in desperate need of more employees.

He aimlessly walked into the library, stopping in his tracks when he didn't see anyone at the counter.

Unexpectedly the door behind him slammed into his back. He fell forward in agony, hot pain in his lower back where the door knob pierced his skin. As he plummeted to the ground he heard the person that opened the door gasp.

“What the hell man?!” he screeched, hitting the floor with a thump.

“Sorry! I didn't see you there.” the person said apologetically. When he sat up and looked up at the person he took in their feachers.  He had brown hair and brown eyes. Just like his mother. His heart ached at the thought of her gentle touch and soft voice

The man held out his hand for him to take and he took it.

“Sorry again, for like y’know hitting you with the door” he said apologizing again, hand on his neck. “It's all good, big man,” Tommy said, taking a step back from the unusual man. “My name's Wilbur,” he said, with a gentle smile, holding his hand out again for him to shake. 

“Name’s Tommy” he responded, taking his hand, shaking it.

“Do you need any help finding a book you’d like to read?” he asked, walking over to the library desk, beckoning him closer. He walked over to where Wilbur was and responded.“No, I'm here for a job.” he said, looking around taking in the new environment.

“Oh! But you look young, how old are you? You look 16.” he questioned, his face twisting into something unreadable.

“I'm 19, dickhead.” He was in fact not 19, he was 15 (turning 16 in three months) but he didn't need to know that.

“You don't look nineteen” he argued, expression faltering in a way so that he couldn't see what emotions the older one was expressing.

“I am!” he spit back, crossing his arms over his chest. Scowling he answered with a ‘yeah right’.

“Why should I hire you?” Wilbur sighed looking at the boy. He himself had blond hair and crystal blue eyes that have turned into an ocean of grim over time.

“Because I'm simply the best at everything.” he boasted, grinning widely at wilbur.

He let out a breathy laugh.

“Sure kid” Wilbur said typing something on the computer on the desk. “I'm not a kid!” Tommy basically yelled.

“Are you sure about that?” Wilbur deadpanned, looking back at his computer. “Why do you want a job here?” Wilbur asked, looking up at him. “I need the money, duh.” he exclaimed, putting his hands on his hips. He typed on the computer again.

“What's your contact information?” he asked, eyebrow raised.

It took him a second to respond, thinking about his response. “my phone broke a couple days ago.” the lie slipping off his tongue smoothly(he doesn't have the money for a phone).

“oh,” Wilbur said, a hint of sympathy flashing over his face ”that sucks”. “Wait, is this like an interview or something?” Tommy questioned, bringing his arms down to his sides. “I thought that was pretty obvious.” he raised an eyebrow “how am i supposed to tell you if you got the job if i can't contact you in any way shape or form?”

“Well if you truly want the great tommy innit here i could possibly come here tomorrow.”

Tommy said, lathered in fake confidence. “We're not open on Sundays,'' he said, glancing back at the computer typing something.

“Oh, then I could come around on monday.” he replied, “monday’s good. You can come around 3.” 

“great!” They said their goodbyes and Tommy left the library, heading back to the secluded alleyway.

When he finally got back to ‘his’ alleyway (it isn't and will never be his home). He saw the same crow that was there last night. He waddled over towards Tommy in pure curiosity(curiosity kills the cat). He crouched down and put his hand out towards the bird. It came closer and closer until it was right next to his hand. 

Then he felt a sharp pain on his hand. He pulled back and winced when he saw blood pricking at his finger. Before the bird could try and attack him he stood up and kicked at the air near the bird. The bird got the message(hopefully) and left him to be alone in the alleyway. 

That night he could feel himself rotting from the inside out, laying there're decaying until someone finds him to finish the job. He could taste the saltiness of his flesh on his taste buds, stomach turning at the feeling that he was rotting.

He rolled over on his stomach, yelping in pain when his torso made contact with his ‘bed’.

He quickly turned back around, facing the dingy clouded nighttime sky.

He closes his eyes hoping for some form of sleep. He slowly but surely started to drift off into the dream world(or should he say nightmare world).

Chapter Text

Tommy woke up with a throbbing migraine.

Groaning, he sat up, putting his hand on the wall when an almost unbearable amount of nausea and dizziness hit him like a falling skyscraper.

Hunching over he tightly closed his eyes, hoping that would get rid of the intense amount of nausea and aching in his head.

He just sat there leaning against the wall, attempting to stabilize himself.

He opens his eyes once more. everything seemed to stop spinning. Sighing he pulled himself to his feet. He regrets it immediately falling backwards, accidentally bumping his head on the wall behind him.

He bite his lip to muffle his loud scream of agony. He slumped against the wall, hand on his head, where it made contact with the wall.

He could feel his eyes start to fill with salty tears. Stifling a sob he felt those tears that had built up in his eyes release themself. He sluggishly wiped them away, slightly annoyed when they kept slipping from his eyes.

blinking violently he let out a sigh, sitting there waiting for the pain to go away. After a while the pain started to lessen.

He dug through his box with all of his belongings, looking for the little food he has.

After a few seconds he pulled out a white take out box. (that he found in the trash and cleaned out) he opened the tinier box, there was only one piece of stale bread (that had a little dried mustard on it) left.

He bit into the bread, biting back a gag as he chewed and swallowed the stale bread. Groaning, he shuffled picking up a bottle of water and took a sip. He sighed in relief when the water flowed down his throat in a smooth motion.

Setting the water bottle down in his box, he stood up, wobbling a little on his aching legs before he hunched over, a throbbing pain shooting up into his chest. He let out a strangled exhale.

He felt eyes bore into the back of his skull but when he looked around he couldn't see anything. He felt anxiety bubble up into his chest, it wasn’t a good feeling. It felt like a weight sinking into his chest before dropping down into the deep pits of his stomach.

He tried to stop the heavy feeling but was unsuccessful.

He decided to go to the park a couple blocks away from his alleyway. He walks down the sidewalk making a right turn into a familiar park. He made his way under to sit under a large oak tree next to a medium sized pond.

He closed his eyes and took in the relaxing environment. He opened his eyes after a couple of minutes of just sitting there and saw a blur of green in the corner of his vision. He whipped his head around to be met with a boy around his age with fluffy brown hair that covered his eyes.

He wore a green sweater(that looked quite big on him) and a small smile on his face.

He was making a flower crown, hands moving smoothly like they have had years of practice. The boy seemed….very familiar, like he had seen him a million times before but just could put his finger on it.

“Hi?” Tommy spoke, breaking the silence between the two teens. “Hi!” the mysterious boy said. There was an ache blooming in his chest like his body remembers who he is but his mind doesn't.

“Who are you?” Tommy questioned. The boy looked confused, but answered anyway. “Im tubbo. Don't you remember me, tommy?” the boy—tubbo asked, turning his smile into a frown.

There was a few seconds of silence, he blinked and the boy was gone. How long did he blink? Was he even there in the first place? Was he seeing things again?

He shook the questions out of his head and stood up ignoring the twist of pain in his upper half and walked back to his smelly alleyway.

When he got back to his alleyway he fell back onto his makeshift bed and rummaged through his box. He took out this water bottle to see that it was empty. ‘Damn it’ he thought, throwing the empty water bottle back into the cardboard box.

He laid down looking at the night time sky. He closed his eyes hoping to sleep but immediately opened his eyes when he felt something brush against his leg.

He saw the crow looking right into his eyes. He sighed looking back up into the dark sky. He closed his eyes once again, feeling something sit right next to him.

Assuming it was the bird he kept his eyes closed, unable to sleep; staying up all night.

He opened his eyes seeing it's still dark out, he looked over to his side seeing the bird still by his side; sleeping. He relaxes, ignoring the aching flesh on his bones.
He sighs, closing his eyes and falling into a pit of darkness to have the same nightmare, one he can't and won't remember in the morning.

Tommy found himself in the corner of the alleyway throwing up his guts, only liquid coming out.
He leaned against the wall taking a breather and wiping the tears on his face away.

When he woke up the bird was gone, he found himself a little disappointed by the absence of his only company.
Eventually he got up and cleaned himself up (as much as he can) and made his way back to his ‘bed’ he sat down and looked in the box with all his belongings in it.

He pulled out a fairly old and cheap minecraft watch (he found it on the ground after a small child dropped it, while running after a dog screaming ‘puppy!’)

It was only 1:05 pm so he had like 2 hours until he has to go the the library and meet wilbur.(??) Tommy put the watch back and groaned when he got up again. He walked around and found himself in an alleyway next to a fairly cheap bakery.

He looked through the bakery’s trash bin. Tommy found a half eaten cinnamon roll and 2 pieces of raisin bread(one of them had a bite in the corner), he decided to just head back, not finding that much edible food.

He got back to his alleyway and put his findings in his food box, keeping a piece of the raison bread out and chomping down on it.

Chapter Text

Tommy was nervous. He had about twenty minutes until he had to be in the little bookstore to meet Wilbur. He had gone to a nearby gym and taken a shower in one of the community showers. (he did work out for like a half hour to not look suspicious)

He was sick. All night long he was throwing up. He hadn't eaten anything in days so it was just liquids, at one point he even started throwing up blood. Every time he moved he felt like he was gonna throw up. His nausea has gotten to the point where if he looks up he gets dizzy.

He was on his way to the little bookstore when he started to regret his decision. Yeah, Wilbur did give him bad vibes (and the way he smiled at him made him uneasy) but that's not the reason. When he was halfway there his nausea and stomach pains got gradually worse.

He walked down the sidewalks until he reached a crosswalk. He pushed a button on a nearby poll and leaned against it. He pulled his hand through his hair, sighing. He walked across the crosswalk(when he was allowed to) to get to the sidewalk on the other side. He reached the other side safely (almost tripping on a tiny rock in the process).

He could see the shop in the distance. He slowed his pace, taking in a deep breath. He stumbled to a stop when he was in front of the little bookstore. He exhaled loudly, grabbing a hold of the doorknob. He slowly but swiftly swung the door open walking into the shop. He was greeted with the sound of a little bell ringing on the door, signaling someone just walked in.

He could hear a muffled voice coming from the employee-only room before a familiar tall brunette emerged from the back room. ‘Oh hey, Tommy!’ Wilbur's cheery voice said slicked with honey, not like the honey his mother's voice held but the honey that gets flies and insects lured in by the sickly sweet smell, only to get trapped for hours upon hours, sitting there in the sticky yet sweet syrup, waiting for the sweet release of death. And in that case, Tommy is the fly and Wilbur is the honey.

Tommy is unaware of the honey therefore unaware of Wilbur. The insects try to devour the sweet syrup that lay there, unaware that the syrup has the power to trap the insect. the rest of their little lives will be spent in a sticky situation (quite literally). They live out the rest of their sad lives rotting in place.

Tommy is unaware that one day he will be trapped not by honey but by Wilbur. Tommy is unaware that one day he will be trapped in an inescapable situation that will forever change not only his life but the way he looks at life as a whole, but as a person, as a soul just waiting for whatever god there is to decide his fate, to decide where he goes in the afterlife, to decide how and when, when and where, and where and why.

Tommy craves to be loved. He craves a family that will love him as his mother did. Tommy craves honey.

“Hey, Wilbur,” Tommy responded walking up to the tall brunette, a small but fake smile forcing itself upon his face. Wilbur doesn't notice. He looked up at Wilbur seeing a huge grin slapped across his face. The way his eyes met Tommy's made his stomach turn. “How are you? you look sick.” Wilbur stated, taking in Tommy's appearance. He had dark bags under his distracting
ocean-blue eyes; he could stare into them for hours upon hours non-stop.

“I'm a big man, I never get sick!” Tommy said, ‘confidence’ seeping through his words. “Sure you don't,” Wilbur says with an unsettling grin never leaving his face. ”Hey!!” Tommy argued back, face flushing with anger.

Chapter Text

After Tommy and Wilburs very very important conversation (consisting of Tommy talking about how badass Moana is). Wilbur told all Tommy could ever possibly want to know about working in a library(even though most of it was just wil bragging about how fast he can check a book in and out).

Tommy's first duties as a 'technically librarian'(as wilbur worded it)was to collect the books from the return box, bring them inside for Wilbur to check out(idk how libraries work-😰pls don't bully me🤧), and put all of the books A-L back on their respected places on there bookshelves.

Tommy grabbed one of those book wheel cart things, and wheeled it out to the external return box( for when there closed and/or if they don't wanna have human interaction which Tommy understands completely).

Wilbur had given him the keys to the box earlier in the day. He opened the box from the front under the part where you slide books in. He grabbed all the books in the rather ugly poop brown colored metal. He stacked the books on the small car ending up with two and a half stacks of 6-9 books of all different sizes, mostly all of them had hardcovers.

One of the hardcover books that caught his attention had a little flower on the spine of the book. The flower was outlined in a dark blood red contrasting with the black cover. The vines of the flower wrap around the cover twisting and twirling around overlapping onto itself. He looked at the flower a little closer, it seemed to be a rose Cliche.

He strolled back inside with the cart In Front of himself. He walked up to Wilbur, leaning against the wooden desk, feeling cool against his bare skin, despite the heater being on, temperature drastically different from outside, so much so that he had to take off his jumper, because he was sweating, like a polar bear in the desert.

"Hey big man" the boy exclaimed 'excitement' twisted into his words."i got the stuff" he said gesturing near the cart. "And I'm not talking about drugs, ''he said, lowering his voice cupping one side of his face, looking side to side, for dramatic effect.

He chuckled, His gaze fixated on tommy, the possessive look in his eyes was enough to fall out of the bubble of oxygen surrounding Earth, crushing you until your nothing but a shriveled up corpse floating around in the darkness of space, swerving around stars and going anywhere and everywhere they take you. "Where do I put these?" Tommy said, ignoring the brunette's malace gaze.

"You can just set them on the desk" he waves down towards the corner of the wooden space. Tommy set the stacks of books where Wilbur gestured. Tommy felt puke rise in throat, and excused himself to the bathroom in the employees only room.

Tommy barged into the bathroom, shutting and locking the door. He rushed over to the toilet, dropping to his knees and lurched forward—throwing up. Because Tommy hasn't eaten anything in the past day all his body threw up was stomach acid and other bodily fluids. He grasped the side of the toilet preparing himself for what comes.

Throw up rises to his throat once more, hunching over the toilet bowl clear fluid that looks oddly similar to water, making its way out of his throat. He leans back slouching against the bathroom wall. He sat there, for how long he had no idea.

Tommy wiped the tears streaming down his face away, curling up into a ball, hiding his face in his knees. Pain spiked in his chest, like a rose red and plump, blooming within his skin, thorns scraping against flesh hard enough to draw blood.

Knock, knock

Tommy jumped up, ignoring the fiery burst of heat assaulting his chest. "Tommy?''a familiar Burnett's voice asked. "Are you alright? You didn't fall in did you?" He chuckled.

“Yeah, I'm good,” Tommy responded, voice a little raspy. “ Are you sure?.” he questioned. “A hundred percent,'' he reassured. Alright, if you say so,”Wilbur said before walking away, presumingly to the front desk. Tommy lurched forward as puke rose up and out of his throat. He gaged the liquids out, tears unwillingly roam down his face, slipping off his face with reaching his chin. He felt slightly better.

He was sick, that was pretty obvious but he couldn't go home because he needed the money. He needed this job, he couldn’t get fired on his first day. Tommy glanced in the toilet and saw a red substance already spread all over the toilet bowl, turning the liquid inside a deep crimson.

That can't be good.

-

He curled up against a grimy wall, his small child frame. He shivered as snow fell around his body, snowflakes touching his skin, not melting dew to his cold temperature. He's so cold. He tries to sleep but the temperature keeps him from getting even slightly comfortable.

He decides he's had enough of laying down, just waiting for the coldness to take him forever. He sits up with stiff limbs. standing up on his feet wobbling a little duo to the cold. He walked away from where he was previously laying, going towards the nearby park.

He sat down on a bench, not yet noticing the red cloth next to him. He sighed, regretting ever running away. He glanced to the side of himself on the bench. He gasped in excitement seeing that there was a little red jacket next to him. He grabbed it as fast as he could, slipping the thin cloth around himself.

It didn't really fit him, it being very oversized, but if you think about it that makes it kinda better. It didn't do much to block out the cold but it was better than nothing.

-

He opened the bathroom door, sliding out into the break room. As he expected there was no one in there; Wilbur and Tommy being the only employees there as of right now.

He walked out of the room heading back to resume his work. “Hey tommy! What took you so long?” Wilbur immediately said once he spotted tommy. “Had to shit.” he responded, lie easily slipping from his mouth.

Wilbur made a face of disgust “to much information” “you're the one who asked” Tommy rolled his eyes, walking towards his cart(that he had named clementine). “Did you put the books in the thing, or whatever?” Tommy asked. “Most of them, I still have 3 left but you can put these one up.” the man said, gesturing to a couple stacks of books.

Tommy picked up the books and set them on clementine, looking at one of the books and heading to where the book should go. He heard the door open and then close, indicating that someone had either left or entered. He assumed it was the latter because he hadn't seen anyone else in the shop (other than Wilbur).

Out of the corner of his eye he saw a tall man. He had dirty blonde hair and wore an obnoxious bright green hoodie. He looked away right before the man's eyes landed on him. He hurried up putting the book he was putting on the shelf he twisted himself opposite of the man strolling to the next aisle(thing) to put up a different book.

-

Tommy just finished his shift at the library and was on his way to his alleyway. He waltzed down the sidewalks like no one's business when a sharp pain rebloomed in his chest. He slowed down his pace, and put his hand on his chest, hunching over in pain. He grimaced as crimson leaked threw his shirt.(his jacket's zipper broke not too long ago).

He leaned against a brick wall slipping into the alley next to it, so no one could see him. He cried in pain, putting pressure on the reopening wound.

-

He stumbled into his alleyway falling back onto his ‘bed’.he dug through his box with one hand, using the other to put pressure on his wound. He pulled out a dirty rag and some old bandages that still had some blood on them.
-

“Hey, mum?” the small child said, tugging on the bottom of his mom’s shirt. “Yes darling?” her soft voice bloomed filling in the semi-silence between the two. “Can I get that pleaaaase?” he said pointing at a brown and white cow plushie.”idk can we?” the woman chuckled.

“Please!” he exclaimed, jumping up and down, still holding onto her shirt. She laughed before responding, “okay, okay! We can get it!” she smiled, sweet and caring for her little one. “Yes!!” he squealed, running over to the plush and grabbing it, and putting it in the basket.

-

Tommy was abruptly woken up by the feeling of freezing cold surrounding him. It had started to snow.

Tommy was fucked.

-