Chapter Text
Phil was minding his own damn business one Thursday afternoon. His youngest was at Tubbo’s house and the twins were still at their after school activities. Kristin had gotten the short end of the stick that day and was tasked with driving to the twin’s high school for a Parent Teacher Conference.
All in all it, should have been a quiet afternoon for him.
Until his phone started ringing.
Not many people have his phone number, so seeing the unknown series of digits displayed on the screen is a bit weird. He shrugs it off and answers regardless. More curious than anything else. Who is this person and why the fuck are they bothering him?
He leans back against his favorite armchair in the living room and settles his book on his lap. Phil swipes on the screen, accepting the call.
“Hello,” he says.
“We have your wife,” a strange male voice warns on the other line. “If you want her home, alive and unharmed, I suggest you listen to our demands.”
Phil lowers his phone from his ear and squints at it. He brings it up again. “You have my wife?” he asks incredulously.
“Yes.”
“And you're still alive?”
“Yes?” the stranger answers more hesitantly.
Phil rubs his face roughly with the hand not holding the phone. “Can I speak to her for a moment?” he asks, exasperated.
On the other line he hears rustling as well as a few seconds of quiet conversation, and finally, Kristin’s voice, cheery and unperturbed. “Hiya Phil,” she says, the smile evident in her voice. “It seems I've been kidnapped, what a shame. I guess I won't be able to make it to the twin’s Parent Teacher Conference.”
“You evil woman." Phil smiles fondly.
Kristin continues her speal. “I was so looking forward to it, talking to teachers n’ shit. Ah, this sucks.”
Can she be more sarcastic, he wonders. “Oh, wow,” Phil says in the same tone of voice. “Well, since you're so sad to be missing it, how about I call the school and tell them to reschedule for a later date, since you've been looking forward to it.”
A pause. “You can do that?”
Phil grins to himself. “Yup.”
Silence.
An inhale.
“FUCK!”
Phil laughs. “What time do I tell the boys you'll be at their school?”
She sighs tiredly. “I dunno, maybe in fifteen minutes? You know how the traffic gets at this hour.”
Phil knows all too well, since he's the one that drives the brats to school on the daily. “Yeah, I do.”
“I'll see you for dinner, yeah?”
“Yup,” Phil says. “Love you, bye.”
“Love you too, bye.”
She hangs up.
Wait a minute.
Did he just say I love you?!
Two weeks pass, and his phone rings again.
“Tommy!” Phil calls, he's busy in the kitchen making dinner. “Can you go pick up my phone, I think I left it on the couch.”
“M'kay!” he hears the kid yell back. Frantic footsteps go further into the apartment. “Hello?” he hears Tommy say into the phone. “Oh, okay. Phil! IT'S FOR YOU!” he yells.
Who else would it be for, it's his phone. Phil rolls his eyes fondly. “Ask who it is, dude.”
“Who is this?” a pause. “He says you ruined his life so now he'll ruin yours.” Tommy’s voice softens as he addresses the person on the other line. “Can I have a name to go with this message?” Kristin has been teaching him how to answer phone calls that come to the house in case it’s someone important from her job. “He says you'll know who he is!” he yells back.
Phil doesn't have the heart to inform the person on the other line that ‘someone he has ruined’ doesn't narrow down the list of people it could be.
With a sigh he turns off the stove, wipes his hands clean and makes his way to the living room. “For fuck's sake,” he says to himself. Upon reaching the living room he sees Tommy is still talking on the phone with whoever is on the other line.
“So I tell Tubbo that we need to get some robux so that we can buy cool clothes, right? But he says we don't have money, 'cause he’s dumb and doesn’t have a big brain like me. So I say, we can just steal, like, a credit card or something. Maybe from Mr. Harllow– he's our science teacher by the way. I mean, teachers get paid enough already, surely he won't miss a couple hundred dollars, right?”
Huh, he'll have to check on that later. “Alright,” he says. “Gimmie the phone, you gremlin.”
Tommy frowns but concedes.
“Hello, Philza,” the stranger says. “We have your son-”
“Which one,” Phil interrupts
Silence.
The person gets farther away from the phone, his voice is fainter. “Which one are you?” the stranger asks.
“Which one am I?” a voice spits incredulously. “Way to strip me of my individuality.”
“Oh,” Phil says. “It's Wil.”
The dude seems to get his bearings once again. “Come to the pier, you know which one I’m talking about, or your son gets it.” Phil thinks the voice sounds familiar but he knows he's just kidding himself. Maybe his name started with a D.
Maybe.
“Oh no, I'm so distraught,” Phil says with as much emotion as he can manage. By the way Tommy is laughing at him, he's not doing a good job of evoking emotion. “Can I please, oh please, speak to my son for a second?”
“You sound like a robot,” Tommy informs him.
Phil shushes him.
“Fine,” the dude says. He sounds like a Dylan.
Maybe David?
Rustling on the other line. “Hiya dadza.”
“Hey Wil,” he says. “Correct me if I'm wrong but didn’t you have your mock SAT exam today?” Phil knows Kristin dropped him off at a neighboring high school so that he could take the damn practice exam.
“Oh shucks,” Wilbur says. His acting skills are no better than Phil’s, but he has a suspicion the kid is exaggerating on purpose. “You're right. Completely blanked on that, dadza. What a shame, it seems that since I have been kidnapped, I won't be able to take my practice exam. Oopsies!”
Phil is not amused. He should talk to Kristin about this, the kids are picking up her habits. “Is there a reason you just so happen to have been kidnapped on a Saturday. At noon?”
“Don't quote me on this but I think it's destiny,” he says sagely.
“Wil, cut the crap. What's really going on.”
“Ugh fine,” he groans. “Here’s the thing, so I got to the school, right? And they show me where my classroom is supposed to be and I sit down and we begin the test and I legit blanked. Everyone else was super focused and I couldn’t even read one sentence. So I threw a chair at the teacher and dipped. I left the school and I saw these dudes in a van stalking me so I thought, okay perfect excuse. I can't take my exam if I'm being human traffick-ed, right?”
“Sure,” Phil says hesitantly.
“So yeah, I let them take me-”
“You let us?” a voice shouts.
“I'm on the phone,” Wil snaps. “Do you mind? Anyway dadza, that's what happened and here we are.”
Phil takes a breath to speak but Wil cuts him off again.
“I know what you're gonna say, I mean, you wasted all that money on the smelly old hag Mrs. Agnes for me to not even take the test?”
Tommy tugs on Phil's shirt. “Who's Mrs. Agnes?” he mouths.
Phil lowers his phone a little. “She's a teacher that was helping Wil study for his SATs.” When he brings his phone back up Wil is still talking.
“-and she literally smells like old person, which is fucking gross. If I ever get to that point please kill me.”
Noted, Phil thinks to himself. “Mrs. Agnes isn't that bad Wil,” he tries to defend.
“She is.”
“Okay, she is,” he agrees. No point in lying, that old hag is the devil incarnate.
“See?!” Wilbur shouts. “She's awful but whatever, not the point. Come on now dadza, let me hear it.”
Phil blinks. “Hear what?”
“Yell at me, scold me or whatever. I know I deserve it.”
“Uh Wil-”
Wil continues undeterred. “I wasted your money and your time and I know you’re mad so just let it out, okay?”
“Wil-”
“-it’s better if it’s over the phone, you know, that way I’ll at least know you won’t hit me or something,” he laughs heartily. “But word to the wise, dadza, last time someone threw a punch my way, Techno got so mad he neutered the guy and left him for dead inside the ball pit of a Chuck E. Cheese. We were fourteen by the way, did I ever tell you that story? It's super funny. Well, for me and Techno, not for that other dude. Can you imagine living your life dickless? Couldn't be me honestly-”
“WIL!”
“Yeah?”
Phil sighs. “I’m not mad.”
Silence. Phil checks his phone again, to make sure the call is still going.
It is.
“What.” It’s more of a demand than a question.
“Why the hell would I be mad?” Phil chuckles, it’s more from nerves than anything else. “That you wasted money? Wil, you know damn well we’re not exactly broke. Money isn’t an issue, dude.”
“What.” Again with the demand.
“I’m not mad,” he repeats. “I’m actually a bit concerned because I know how it feels. That shit used to happen to me too, the exam jitters. I can’t tell you how many times I completely blanked before an exam, it’s a scary thing. Lemme tell you, the worst is when it happens during your driving test, that shit is scary as fuck.”
“So,” Wil pauses. “You're not mad?
His shoulders go lax. “No, Wil.”
“Not even a little bit?”
“Nope,” Phil says. He can understand where the doubt comes from, Phil knows his former step fathers would have blown off their fucking lid, but Phil isn’t his former step dads, he is his own person and he will not be making the same mistake. “So what if you didn't finish the exam, it’s a mock exam, it doesn't matter. It’s okay.”
“Hm,” Wil thinks for a moment longer. “You sure?”
“Yes.”
“Very sure?”
Phil chuckles. “Yes Wil.”
“Ok,” he says hesitantly.
Phil knows this won’t be the end of the conversation. Wilbur definitely doesn't believe him yet but he’ll give him a break for now. “Okay, good. Now, want me to come get you?”
“Nah, it’s fine. I’ll be back at eight or something, I might swing by the mall before going home, Nikki got a new job there and she says I can steal the 50% off posters if I don't get caught.”
Phil smiles, “Alright, call me if you need anything.”
“Bye dadza!”
Before the call ends Phil hears Wilbur's voice loud and clear. “Now, which one of you fuckers should I blackmail first?”
Click.
“I'm hungry,” Tommy says.
Phil smiles down at him, and ruffles his hair. “I'll go finish dinner. You wanna come help me?”
“Yup!”
Wilbur comes home two hours later with an easy smile and a story to tell.
He's in the car the third time, the light is red now and there's a shit ton of traffic. To make matters worse his favorite song stops in the middle because of an incoming call.
Phil answers. He doesn’t even get a chance to say hello.
“Hello Philza, we have Technoblade here, do what we say or we'll-”
Philza snorts a laugh and tries to catch his breath.
“What the fuck?” he hears the stranger ask, it only makes him laugh harder.
He finally catches his breath a few seconds later. “Techno, dude, when I said find a hobby I didn't mean this.”
He hears Techno’s voice distantly but clear enough to understand. “It's a good way to gather fodder, how else am I supposed to get a crowd of willing targets,” he defends.
“Wait what,” a voice says.
Phil laughs a bit more. A few days ago Techno told him he was getting bored with his daily schedule, Phil had proposed looking for a hobby, he even offered to help. Techno refused and said he had something in mind. “Don't forget to wear your raincoat, yeah?”
Techno groans.
Phil laughs again. “You know how hard it is to get rid of blood stains after they dry.”
“But I look like a loser when I wear it,” he whines, high pitched and defensive.
“You're the one who insists on wearing white shirts,” he reminds.
Another groan. “Fine.”
“One last thing, dude.”
“What?”
“Try to clean after yourself a bit, okay?” Phil pleads. “I don't want a repeat of last time, you know how hard it is to power wash intestines off walls? Not to mention the hush money for the witnesses.”
Techno snorts. “That seems like a personal problem.”
Phil massages his temple. “Not if I take that hush money out of your allowance.”
“Fine, I'll play nice,” he sighs.
On the other line Phil hears the squeaking of a chair, then a dull thud.
“Hey, what are you doing?” someone asks. “How did you get out of your restraints?”
“Wasn't he handcuffed?”
“Where did he get that baseball bat?”
“Bye,” Phil says cheerly. “Come home before nine. We're getting pizza tonight.”
The light turns green, the phone cuts off.
“We have your son in an undisclosed location, do as we say or we-”
Phil stops listening before the caller is done with his sentence. He mutes himself and lets the stranger drone on and on about demands. “Techno!” he calls from his office. “Can you go pick up Tommy from the warehouse up on fifth?”
That's the one warehouse that can be rented by the hour, most of Phil's rivals and enemies use it.
“Why me?” Techno calls back. “Can’t Wil do it?”
“Wil is busy right now and so am I, do me a solid yeah?”
“Ugh! Fine.”
Phil unmutes himself. The stranger is still talking. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll comply or whatever, just shuddup, will you? Let me talk to my son.”
Rustling.
“Hi dad!”
Phil smiles. “Hey Tommy.”
“What can I do for you this fine evening?”
Phil takes a deep breath to calm his nerves. “Tommy, what did I say?”
The kid groans and recites obediently. “‘Stop accepting candy from strangers, Tommy. They just want to kidnap you, Tommy.’” He groans again. “I know that, you think I’m dumb? I’m just using them for free food!”
“What?” a tinny voice says on the other line.
Phil ignores it. “You have to stop getting yourself kidnapped just so you can get some free candy!”
This has become a trend with Tommy the last few weeks, it seems the kid has found a life hack. Whenever he gets hungry he just waits around on the street until a kidnapper shows up. It’s a huge contrast to how he used to behave, Phil thinks that it’s because the kid knows someone will come to get him whenever and wherever.
“They were offering pop tarts this time!” Although Phil sees the appeal that does not justify getting taken by strangers. Who knows where they’ve been, if they even wash their hands! Who knows what kind of germs they have around them, Phil doesn’t want Tommy getting lice from them.
Again.
“Just behave until you’re picked up, alright?”
“Fine,” Tommy groans. “Who's coming to pick me up this time?
“Techno.”
“And you tell me to behave?”
“Bye Tommy, I'll see you soon.”
“Bye-Bye,” he says into the phone, his voice grows fainter but Phil can still pick up what he says. “Alright, guys where was I? Oh yeah, the bite of ´87! So anyway, this is when the lore gets super interesting!”
Phil hangs up.