Chapter Text
Techno reluctantly wakes at six and steals Phil’s coffee half an hour later. He’s taken to accompanying the old man to work these past few weeks, to 'get the hang of things at work' as Phil has put it. He often shadows Philza throughout the day, sometimes he's given a few tasks to complete as well.
They’re in the car now, Phil is driving them to the Antarctic Empire, the morning is quiet and still. Just how Techno likes it.
“You know next month we have Tommy and Kristin’s birthday right?”
Techno shakes his head.
Phil chuckles, “Well we do. I was thinking of going on a trip, what do you think?”
“Where?”
“I dunno, the beach, a theme park, maybe just some generic sightseeing.”
“Can you even leave the country, old man?"
"There you go with 'old man' again. At least call me dad."
"Okay, dad," Techno says and doesn't miss the way Phil smiles warmly at the name. "You do know all those arrest warrants aren’t just for show, right?”
“You’re in no position to be asking me that dude,” Phil snorts. “What is it that happened to your passport again?” he asks fake-innocently.
“I sold it,” Techno answers dejectedly.
Phil laughs again and slows to a stop at a red light. “Exactly.”
“The situation called for it,” Techno defends.
“I don’t think a friendly game of poker ‘called for it,’” he replies. The light turns green, the car picks up speed once again. “What was it you were going to win anyway?”
“Bragging rights and a coupon for a six inch sub at Subway.”
Phil laughs again, Techno likes that he can make him laugh. “Was it worth it?”
Techno laughs. “Fuck no.”
They reach the club and get out of the car. As always Phil leads them through the back door. As they walk through the halls Techno notes the way no one looks in their direction. This is something that often happens but this time it feels a bit more- purposeful?
It feels different.
There are a lot of people walking around, bouncers, security guards and every other staff member fit to work today, and yet not one person makes eye contact.
Techno takes it as a win, he loathes human interaction so this new development works in his favor.
Phil’s secretary is waiting for them right outside his office, a stack of papers on hand. “Good morning,” he greets and wait a minute-
He's making direct eye contact with the both of them, unlike everyone else today who cowered under their presence.
It's even more odd considering the fact that this is the first time this man has made eye contact with either Techno or Phil. The dude always makes sure to keep his eyes downcast. Always.
So what's changed?
“Looks like we have a busy day today,” Phil says to himself as he leafs through the stack.
Techno sighs to himself, a Paperwork Day is his least favorite. “Does that mean we’re gonna be stuck inside your office all day?”
“'fraid so man,” Phil smiles apologetically. To his secretary he says, “Don’t let anyone bother me until we’re done.”
The man nods and walks away. Phil steps inside his office and sits down in his chair, Techno stays out in the hall for a few more seconds, observing where the secretary has disappeared off to.
“You coming mate?”
“Yeah,” Techno walks inside and lets the door swing shut. He’s always been too paranoid, it’s a hard habit to kick, it’s what has kept him alive and well all these years. But here’s the thing, he has Phil and Kristin now, he doesn’t need to worry about every little thing anymore, he doesn’t need to be the one in control anymore.
He can leave that to the adults.
And so he does.
Techno shuts his worries inside a cardboard box and lets it gather dust in the back of his mind, he can analyze what just happened later, for now he’ll dig into boring old paperwork.
Kristin gets a call and weirdly enough it’s Phil’s secretary. Huh, he never contacts her. Also, how did he get her personal phone number? Did Phil give it to him?
She ends up answering the call. “Hello?”
“Good morning,” he says smoothly. “Philza wanted me to inform you that he would like to have lunch with you and the boys today, and if you can make it down here some time after twelve?”
She thinks about it for a bit, Tommy is drawing a farm on a loose piece of printing paper, the back of which has Kristin’s failed attempts to format an illegal document. He’s often given these recycled sheets for his drawings, to save paper and all that.
Wilbur is in the living room, probably watching TV, or maybe just napping. She looks up at the clock in the kitchen, it’s fifteen before eleven, if they start getting ready now they’ll probably be able to leave at a reasonable time and make it at noon to the Antarctic Empire. Getting ready with a nine year old always takes a long ass time but she thinks she has enough practice to keep it under control.
“Sure, tell him twelve sounds great.”
“Great,” he says, then hangs up.
Kristin mouths 'wow' to herself at the curt goodbye.
The next forty minutes is spent wrangling Tommy into actual clothes and waking Wilbur up from his nap every eight minutes, hoping he’ll get off his ass. They end up leaving the house at eleven forty but it’s all good, they’ll arrive on time if Kristin ignores all traffic laws, as she tends to do on a regular basis.
Kristin parks her car around the corner of the Antarctic Empire’s street and they all get out. On the walk to the club Kristin watches as Tommy tries not to step on cracks without breaking his stride. He always tends to play this game when they have to walk places. She notices that today’s round of the game will be easier, because there's a distinct absence of people and cars in the street, it’s like a ghost town.
That’s weird.
Is this what the red district looks like when it’s Sunday morning? That doesn’t seem right, but it’s not like Kristin has never been over at the Antarctic Empire when it’s this early and when it’s Sunday, so she keeps the worrying thought to herself.
They reach the steel doors of the Antarctic Empire; the bouncer by the front opens the doors for them. “Welcome,” he says, eyes glued to the floor.
“Thank you,” Kristin says with what Tommy has dubbed her ‘Scary Work Smile’ and her ‘Scary Work Voice.’
The bouncer tenses.
Wilbur waves him hello as he passes, Tommy is hot on his heels with Henry’s furry little hand held tightly in his fist.
As the three walk inside Kristin looks around. The inside of the Antarctic Empire is the same as it always has been but with much less people.
(Again, very odd, but she doesn’t mention it.)
Kristin takes in the fancy decorum and the smell of cigars, the fancy lounging couches and the fancy paintings of fancy people hung against the walls. The building’s logo emblazoned on the carpeted floor, the epicenter of the whole building. Two large staircases on either side.
They stop in the middle and Phil’s secretary comes from out of nowhere. “Welcome,” he says pleasantly. He shakes hands with Wilbur and Kristin.
“HEY!” Tommy does not like being ignored. Kristin hides her laughter behind her hand.
The secretary seems to notice Tommy and smiles as well, though it looks a bit strained. “Looks like you brought the little boss with you.”
Wilbur chuckles. “Little is right.”
“I’m not little!” Tommy defends himself indignantly.
Kristin chuckles at the antics. “Enough you two. So, when are Phil and Techno coming out?”
“They should be done now, I’ll go get them.” He leaves.
While they wait, two waiters swing by offering them water and snacks. They have that same tense expression the bouncer did. They soon leave, practically running.
Maybe Phil’s influence is scary enough to have her and the kids be ostracized by the staff.
That’s what it is, right?
Hmm.
Before long Phil and Techno show up, looking normal enough, nothing out of the ordinary, if one were to ignore the bags under Techno's eyes and the subtle way in which Phil is massaging his right hand.
Phil greets Kristin with a kiss on the cheek.
“Ew,” Wilbur teases. “Cooties.”
Techno covers Tommy’s eyes with his hand. “There are children present. Keep it PG.”
“You’re both so dramatic,” Kristin rolls her eyes fondly.
“So,” Phil looks around at his family. “What’s this visit for?”
What?
Kristin’s brows crease, “I thought-”
“We’re going out to lunch. Duh.” Wilbur interrupts, he wraps an arm around his twin, bringing him close.
“McDonalds-”
“We’re not going to McDonalds, Techno,” Phil says gently.
“I hate this family.”
Tommy seems to start getting bored so he climbs Techno like a wall, hanging from his arm with the ease only one as youthful as him would be able to pull off. “I wanna eat pasta,” he says.
Kristin shakes off her confusion. “I can get behind that,” she says cheerily.
“Favoritism,” Wilbur says under his breath. Techno nods.
Phil shakes his head with a smile. “Tommy picked last time, how about the twins chose this time?”
“Favoritism,” Tommy says mockingly. Wilbur pokes him on the side which effectively makes Tommy let go of Techno's arm and fall to his feet.
“Pizza?” Techno asks Wilbur. He nods.
“Pizza it is,” Phil announces.
“Henry’s allergic to pizza,” Tommy tells his family. Kristin takes his hand with a fond smile and they walk to the front doors.
“Last time you said he was allergic to veggies,” Phil says, he has an arm wrapped around Wilbur, his other arm goes around Techno, who is busy trying to thumb away a stain by his collar. The dull brown color could be mistaken for anything but Kristin knows it's a speck of blood that wasn't washed right away.
“Henry is allergic to many things, it’s not his fault.” Tommy hugs Henry close. “Don’t shame him!”
“Hey dad,” Wilbur says.
“Yeah?”
“Why is it so empty here?” They reach the front but the bouncer that’s supposed to open the door for them from the inside isn’t there.
Phil and Techno look around.
“There were tons of people here this morning,” Techno points out to Phil and he nods pensively.
Tommy goes to open the steel doors by himself.
Unsettled, Kristin dares to ask a question that has been lingering in the back of her mind for a few minutes now. “Hey Phil?” she asks. “Why did you invite us to lunch?”
“I didn’t invite you to lunch, you invited me-”
Tommy opens the door-
Oh.
Oh.
Kristin’s heart stops.
From the half a second Tommy gets to view his surroundings he sees that the street has been closed off by yellow tape and orange cones. Surrounding the entrance of the Antarctic Empire are millions of cop cars, with the cops themselves behind their cars, using them as protection. They point their guns at them, unwavering.
Tommy notices the way Techno and Wilbur step behind Phil, almost instinctively. (What he doesn't notice is that he does the same with Kristin.)
Distantly he feels her hand tighten in his.
He doesn’t know how to react, even as his mind screams for him to do something, anything.
He doesn’t.
His tongue, his legs and his arms can’t move. Henry feels so heavy in his arms.
A man Tommy vaguely recognizes is in the middle of all the commotion.
The detective.
“Philza!" he greets happily. "Hello!”
Phil tenses. “What the fuck-”
“Last time we were here things were different. What was it your ‘son’ said?” the detective interrupts. A sick twist to his lips. “'Without probable cause you have nothing that sticks.'"
Tommy looks up at Wilbur and sees him white as a sheet.
"Well, guess who has probable cause now," he taunts.
Phil isn't provoked. “What the fuck are you doing?”
The detective laughs. “What does it look like?” With a snap of his fingers a few of his men walk closer, guns aimed and ready to shoot.
Phil steps forward even more, successfully getting the twins behind him and out of range.
Kristin swings Tommy even further behind her using their linked hands. Tommy grabs her jacket with a tight fist.
“Move aside,” the detective says.
“Fuck no.” Phil laughs mirthlessly.
Kristin steps forward a bit more, every single firearm is aimed at her. Tommy swallow down a sob. “Tell me about this probable cause you mentioned,” she says. “That’s what I want to know.”
“An informant,” the detective says.
Techno whips to face Phil.
“Who?” Kristin grits out.
“Does it matter?”
“Yes.”
Tommy takes a peek from behind Kristin, the detective shakes his head with a smile. “We’re dragging things out, hands in the air and let’s get this over with.”
Techno and Wilbur raise their hands, they’re quiet, and obedient. Something Tommy has never seen them be. He looks up at Phil for guidance, his dad gives him a shaky smile. “Arms up,” he says gently.
In front of him Kristin wiggles her hand and Tommy reluctantly lets her go. She raises her arms and Tommy goes to copy her movements. Phil is the last to raise his arms, after seeing everyone else has done the same.
“Good,” the detective says. “Now, Philza, have your ‘kids’ walk up to my coworker here to the left.” He sweeps his hand to the side where a group of people stand beside a cop car.
Tommy’s stomach plummets to the center of the earth. He looks up at Phil with panic and finds the same sentiment being mirrored back. The twins aren’t any better, Wilbur is looking from Phil to the detective and from the detective to Kristin. Techno is stoic and silent, staring up ahead, his lips pressed into a thin line.
“Dad?” he asks Phil.
Phil looks down at him and heartbreak exudes from every single shift in his expression. “Why?” he asks the detective, a choked sound.
“Does it matter? It’s not like they’re your real kids.”
“It matters,” Phil insists.
The detective sighs. “Found their files a few days ago, thanks to our informant.” He smiles, “I always knew they weren’t your kids.” He says that last part almost to himself, but his voice carries in the still silence of the relatively empty street.
Tommy’s heart beats at an unsteady rhythm, pumping, pumping, pumping when all he wants is for it to stop.
Stop and let him think.
Stop, stop, stop, stop, stop.
He wants a pause to the thrum banging in his ears. A break from the emotional roller coaster. A small respite from this mind-fuckery.
Tommy looks up at Kristin, his arms are starting to hurt from having them raised.
Kristin looks over her shoulder at him, she looks so sad.
“Hand them over Philza,” the detective says. “Or we’ll go get them.” By force goes unsaid but it’s implied, even Tommy can feel the shape of those words left up in the air.
Tommy is starting to panic now, he doesn’t want to go back! He already has a family, he has brothers and a mother and a father! He doesn’t need to go back, he has what he needs! He has them!
When no one moves the detective snaps his fingers again. The people to the left begin to move. They come closer and closer, and just as one of the police officers is a step away from Tommy he squeezes his eyes close. He gets a sense of deja vu as he waits for a painful grip around his neck, or his arm, or his hair.
Ready to be dragged away.
Unlike last time, when Techno came to the rescue, this time a hand circles around his arm and begins to drag him away. “NO!” he screams. He fights with all he’s got, scratching the hand around his arm, twisting his body this way and that. He screams bloody murder, hot tears run down his cheeks.
He’s being taken away! He’s going away forever! Without Phil and Kristin! What will happen to them? What will happen when Tommy isn’t around? When he’s thrown inside a cop car and driven far away? He screams louder, more hands grab him from all sides.
Distantly he recognizes that his eyes are closed. He screams. “DAD! WIL! TECHNO!” His breath hiccups and steadies. “MOM!” he sobs.
He’s lifted off the ground and Henry’s hand is ripped from his. Cold spreads from his fingertips to the palm of his hand and reaches the deepest parts of his soul.
The hands grabbing him get tighter.
It hurts.
“TOMMY!” he hears Wil scream. “LET HIM GO! Fuck-” his voice is cut off with a grunt.
“I DON’T WANNA GO!” Tommy screams, his throat hurts now too.
“LET HIM GO!” he hears Kristin scream. “YOU’RE HURTING HIM! LET GO!”
Dread fills him from the inside out when he hears a car door open. He’s thrown inside, the door is closed and locked. Tommy gets to his knees in the car seat and glues himself to the window.
Techno is busy fighting a group of police officers. He doesn’t scream or yell but there’s pure panic in his expression when their eyes meet. Tommy slams the palm of his hand against the window. “TECHNO!” he screams.
Techno stops momentarily, but then another officer comes behind him and wraps an arm around his throat.
Wilbur is being manhandled into another car, handcuffs around his wrists. “DON’T FUCKING TOUCH HIM!” he screams at the officer choking Techno.
The officer keeps Techno as still as he can while another places the handcuffs around his brother’s wrists.
Kristin is to the right, a group of people are holding her back. She looks pissed but here’s something interesting. This isn't her cool and collected Work Face, this is something raw and vulnerable.
She’s not in control, she looks angry. Cornered, like a wild animal.
And Phil-
He’s in the middle of all the commotion, his arms raised in the air. Guns are still aimed at him, and only at him. He hasn’t been able to move at all.
When Tommy sees his face, he knows he sees murder in Phil’s eyes. He sees anger, barely holding back.
He sees the promise of violence.
All this, Tommy observes in very few seconds because it’s too soon when the car he’s in sputters to life and begins to drive away.
He slams tiny fists against the window, screaming louder and louder. “NO!” he sobs. “I WANNA GO BACK! NO!”
The people at the front ignore him completely.
The last thing he sees from the window in the back of the car, is his family, fighting and screaming for him, right in the middle of what can only be described as a riot.
They round the corner of the street.
Tommy slides down the sleek seats of the car, brings his knees up to his chest and tucks his face in between. It’s funny how so much can go wrong in so little time, how his whole world can end in such a short amount of time.
It’s so funny in fact Tommy begins to laugh, he laughs so much his chest hurts. He laughs until he can’t breathe right, until his cheeks go numb and the hot tears running down aren’t felt at all.
He laughs and it hurts.
Wilbur never would have thought this would happen, even if it’s on brand for his shitty life and the awful things that tend to happen to him. He can admit, at least to himself, that he’s gotten too comfortable, too soft these last few months. When Phil and Kristin promised him safety he believed them, even if he knew he shouldn’t.
Now look where he is.
Tommy has been taken away, his sobs and screams have left a painful ringing in his ear, a cop has him against a car, his hands behind his back and bound by the wrists with handcuffs. Techno is screaming bloody fucking murder behind him, last he saw of his brother he was fighting for dear life against a pack of cops. All of them rough and violent, trying to get Techno under control.
Techno could get away by himself easily, but Wilbur doubts his brother will leave him behind. They’ve always been each other’s ride or die, now is not different.
The cop manhandling him slams him against the car again. “Did you listen to me?” he snaps.
“Don’t you fucking touch him!” he hears Kristin yell. The anger at his expense soothes the dull ache in his heart, the one that longs to go back home, the one that knows home isn't a place he can go back to anymore.
Wilbur looks over his shoulder as best he can, he finds Phil hasn’t moved an inch. Their eyes connect, Wilbur loathes the part inside himself that wants to sob and scream the same way Tommy did. The childish instinct he has to plead for help, for someone to save him from this bullshit.
He shuts his mouth and blinks away the blurriness in his eyes.
The cop behind him shoves his face so that he’s looking forwards again. “Go inside already,” he says.
“Where are you taking me and my brother?” he asks.
“To the station.”
Wilbur can guess why. He supposes they were filed under missing all this time, after escaping their last foster home.
God, he already knows what's going to happen. When they go back to ‘the station’ they’ll probably be stuck in the system again.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
It’s with this thought that all the fight leaves his body and he slumps. The officer behind him shoves him into the car, a few moments later Techno is pushed in as well. His hands are behind his back as well, handcuffed just like Wilbur's are.
It’s uncomfortable and digs into the sensitive inner part of his wrists but that comes secondary.
“Are you hurt?” he asks his brother.
Techno shakes his head, he’s looking down at his lap. His long hair covers his eyes as well as his expression. By the tense line on his shoulders Wilbur is willing to guess that his brother is not pleased with the situation. Not like Wilbur is as well.
He looks out the window and finds Phil is starting right back, he still hasn’t moved. Across from him Wilbur spots the detective, his gun aimed right at Phil. The message is clear, ‘move one inch and I pull the trigger.’
Without his consent the tense muscles on his back begin to loosen. He thinks he shouldn’t feel so relieved to find out Phil was being held at gunpoint. He thinks it’s a real dick move on his part to be relieved, but there’s also a small part inside himself that is happy. He’s content to find that Phil wasn't doing anything because he didn’t want to, but because he couldn’t.
Phil cares, at least Wilbur can count on that much.
Movement from his right catches his attention.
Kristin.
He sees her eyes wide with panic, she’s shaking her head at the detective, saying something but the words don’t get through the cop car’s windows. She too cares, and she’s fighting with everything she’s got.
They both care about him and Techno, they don’t want this to happen either.
The hurt and betrayal in his heart simmers down, because even if everything has gone to shit, at least he knows he’s not the only one that didn’t want this to happen. Phil and Kristin didn’t want to get rid of him.
It’s small and pathetic consolation but it’s something, and in these times of great sorrow and heartbreak, it’s all that keeps Wilbur from breaking down right then and there.
Techno nudges him with his shoulder, Wilbur looks up at his brother. “We’ll be okay,” he says.
Wilbur chooses to believe him.
He knows it’s a lie, but hey, what else can he do?
The car drives away, leaving behind the only people he’s ever cared about other than his brother.
Away from a life he wanted to live.
Away from happiness and tranquility and safety.
Phil can say with confidence that he has good self control, he thinks he has enough evidence under his belt to prove that. This, however, is proving to be the hardest shit he’s had to deal with.
His fingers are cutting crescent moons on his palms, his fist is held so tight it hurts. Kristin has been apprehended by the cops, the detective still has a gun aimed right at his head.
Wilbur is stuck inside the car, Techno is barely holding back all the man power. The boy looks over his shoulder, straight into Phil’s soul. Hurt and betrayal is clear as day even from so far away. Those eyes seem to ask, ‘how did you let this happen?’
He makes himself stare back, as a way to repent.
The cops shove Techno into the car and so they drive away.
“Now that the kids have left,” the detective croons. “How about us adults have a talk.”
“Tell your mutts to keep their hands off my wife and I’ll cooperate.”
The detective shakes his head again, exasperated. He snaps his fingers at the men holding Kristin down. “You heard the man, hands off.”
The men stand down and take a few steps away. Kristin combs through her hair with her fingers, rearranges her blouse and squares her shoulders. Work Face on, as Tommy would say. “Let’s talk,” she says.
The detective walks forward and stops a few paces away, he looks over his shoulder and waves away his men. They lower their guns, but they don’t put them away. Kristin and Phil let their hands drop to their sides.
“You’ve been in this business a long time, Philza,” he says. “No matter what I did I could never catch you, which is weird because you’re just human, you should make mistakes just like everybody. And yet I could never catch you on an off day.” He smiles, “Until a few months ago when suddenly the biggest Mafia Boss around town had a family.”
“Get to the point,” Kristin snaps.
“At first I thought this was all just a sick power play or something, big man playing house or something. But then I ran into you at the mall and for whatever reason you looked frazzled. You didn’t even notice me coming up to you, which is weird because Philza never makes mistakes. They say he has eyes in the back of his head, you know?”
Phil doesn’t like where this is going.
“I digress. My point is this, you care about your fake family and normally I wouldn’t give two shits but I could see it as the weakness it was so I decided not to look a gift horse in the mouth.”
Phil doesn’t respond.
“You wife and kids don’t get along with the law do they?” The detective asks. “A criminal record follows you until the day you die, I think you know that better than anyone. Our informant gave us enough material to make all of their lives hell."
"Is that a threat?" he asks.
"I'm just describing a possible future," the detective shrugs.
"Is that the only possible future you see for me?"
"No," he smiles. "What would you say if I told you I could wipe their records clean?"
There it is, a deal.
“I'd ask what you want in exchange,” Phil says. There’s always something to pay, nothing is free. Ever.
The detective smiles again. “In exchange, you turn yourself and all your people in. You do that and your family walks away free.”
Huh.
Phil wonders at that moment what will happen if he accepts this deal. He’ll go to jail, waste away day after day. Visitation days on Wednesdays, no privacy, violence on every corner. No freedom.
But then he thinks of Tommy, the kid who is smart and quick and so charming. He thinks what these last few months have done for the kid, what a roof over his head and three meals a day and friends at school and two adults in his life that give a damn have done to him. He thinks he would love to see him reach his full potential. He thinks of this version of Tommy, the one that was given an honest try at life. What will he be like? Phil thinks Tommy doesn't deserve being dealt a bad hand by life. He doesn’t think that all those decisions he made in order to survive—the stealing, the arson, and everything else—should dictate what will happen in his future. He doesn't think being affiliated with 'Philza' should limit his chances at succeeding.
He thinks of Techno, so jaded and so young. So determined and strong. So anxious and afraid. He thinks of the smalls chinks in his armour, the ones he let Phil see, the ones he let Phil help out with. He thinks that the kid could do some real good work if given the chance, he can make a difference even if the way he does it doesn’t abide by the law. He sees himself in Technoblade, he sees someone who doesn’t want to be forgotten, someone who wants to be someone. Techno will rise up from the ashes of Phil’s work, he has the drive to make it happen. To use his own blood sweat and tears to build something new, something bigger, something that will last. He has what it takes to surpass Phil in every single way. The pride he feels at just the thought is something that fills him with elated weightlessness.
When Phil thinks of Wilbur he sees him in a fancy university with a roommate, a group of friends, a part-time job to help pay the bills. He thinks of study dates, of late night study sessions, of internships, of a position at a fancy law firm, of a new chance. He thinks of his skills being put to good use, being put into something he’s passionate about, not his own survival. He thinks about Wilbur, who talks with his heart but thinks with his head, of a politician who will think of the people before himself.
And finally he thinks of Kristin, his partner. She, who cares for the kids as much as he does. She, who would never let them get hurt. She, who would take care of them in Phil’s absence.
Kristin, who will also have a clean, honest start. Who deserves the world and yet Phil will just have to do the next best thing and give her the gift of a second chance.
Phil looks at her and tries to gather the courage to say what he wants to say. But what can he say? What should he say?
Kristin beats him to it. “You’ve already made up your mind haven’t you?”
Phil sighs and nods. "You'll take care of them,” he states. ‘Take care of their boys’ goes unsaid, it doesn’t need to be said. He doesn't need to ask, and he also doesn't need confirmation because he knows in his soul that Kristin would declare war on the whole world before letting their boys get hurt. "I know you will."
"Of course," Kristin purses her lips. "But who will take care of you?"
"Does it matter?" he asks.
"It does." She smiles, "Even though you clearly don't think so. That just means I have to step up to the challenge doesn't it?"
"Thank you."
"Of course," she replies. Of course she'll take care of them, of course she'll care for him as well.
God, Phil never asked for this. He never looked up at the sky and wished for a little kid to randomly call him dad one night, for a beautiful woman to pretend to be his wife, for two terror twins to brighten up his life. He was an accomplice to their hijinks, an accessory to a crime. He’s the only innocent party here, and yet he’s the one reaping all the consequences. He’s the one getting himself a one way ticket to hell.
This whole charade wasn’t something he did to himself, this was something that was inflicted upon him. He should be mad, he should be fucking pissed.
Phil chuckles to himself.
He should be all those things and more, and yet, he can’t make himself feel anything other than relief.
Relief at having met them and relief at getting a chance to set everything right.
"If I agree you have to promise me the kids will stay with Kristin and that they'll be safe and happy."
"Sounds doable."
"I need your word."
The detective presses a hand to his heart. "Scout's honor."
Phil looks to Kristin one last time, presses a gentle kiss to her cheek and smiles.
"You're such an idiot," she says lovingly.
"I love you too." Phil presents the detective with his right hand. “It’s a deal,” he says.
They shake on it.
"A done deal then,” the detective smiles and wraps handcuffs around Phil’s wrists. As he's led towards a car Phil risks a glance over his shoulder, and sends Kristin a smile.
“Come visit me with the boys will you?” he asks. He’s pushed inside the backseat of the car.
The way he sees it, they’re a family in every way that matters, all except on paper. He hates this deal but if he has to sacrifice everything he built these last few years all in exchange for them, then he'll do it.
Phil looks out the window of the car just as it starts to drive away.
Anything for them.
Everything for them.