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The first thing Tommy woke up to was an aching back and a pounding headache.
He groaned as he sat up in bed, massaging his forehead and glaring at the sun blinding him through the crack in the curtains. He slipped off of his bed and walked across the hall to the bathroom after grabbing a change of clothes, shutting the door and turning on the shower.
Slipping off his shirt, he winced as the pain flared when he twisted wrong. Tommy reached behind him and unhooked the fabric he had binding his wings to his body.
It probably hadn't been the best idea to leave it on overnight but he had already stayed up late doing homework and he had been too tired to think critically.
He stretched out his wings as far as they could go in the bathroom- they weren't able to stretch out completely, but he was glad that a few members of his foster family were also avians, a lot of the rooms being bigger to make it more comfortable for them.
The pain flared in his back again and Tommy hissed, he really shouldn't have left the binding on overnight. He wasn't looking forward to putting it on again, but he'd have to since he had school.
The thought of school jolted Tommy back into the present, he was supposed to be taking a shower right now to get ready.
—
After drying himself off and dressing himself halfway, Tommy sat on the edge of the bathtub and started carding his fingers through his feathers, preening his wings as best as he could by himself. It was never as good as when someone else did it- that occurrence few and far between, Tubbo and Ranboo were always up to it, he just didn't know how to ask- but it was enough to get through most days.
He didn't think about the days where certain feathers started to itch and he couldn't reach them. He didn't think about the days where he accidentally ended up with blood on his hands and clumps of feathers on the floor from failed attempts to relieve the itch.
Tommy always woke up earlier than the others just so he could be sure he'd have enough time to preen and still be able to be ready in time to leave.
He stretched his wings one last time- ignoring the sharp pain and how dull his feathers seemed compared to how he remembered them being when he first got thrust into the foster system- and grabbed the binder he had set to the side, folding his wings in around his body again and wrapping the binder around them. He bit the inside of his cheek when they immediately started aching again and fastened the binder together, pulling his shirt on over top and double checking that it wasn't too noticeable in the mirror.
Tommy sighed and made his way back to his room, digging around in his closet for a hoodie and sighing again when the only clean one he could find was Wilbur’s, his foster brother.
He was sure that Wilbur would be absolutely overjoyed that he was wearing one of his hoodies- he always would say something about trust, he wasn't sure- but he begrudgingly put it on despite that.
He refused to acknowledge how the hoodie made him feel calmer. He refused to acknowledge how the scent of the detergent used to wash it reminded him of Wilbur. He refused to acknowledge how that made his eyes dilate.
Tommy wasn't too happy that the sweater had slits in the back for wings but with him binding them it wasn't a huge deal.
He gathered his homework he had done the night before from his desk and slipped it into his binder, shoving the whole thing into his backpack. With that, he grabbed his backpack- slinging it over one shoulder because he thinks that if he tried to put it on properly his wings would fall off, oh God they hurt- and stepped out into the hall.
He walked down the hallway and into the living room, putting his backpack down by the couch before making his way into the kitchen and dining area.
There, Tommy's foster family was preparing to eat. His two foster brothers, Wilbur and Techno, and his foster dad, Phil. He's been with them for several months now- nearly a year, holy shit this is probably the longest he's been with a foster family- so the sight of them wasn't too surprising.
When he first learned that he was going to be staying with two avians and a phantom hybrid he wasn't too thrilled. Beyond non-hybrids doing everything in their power to make his life a living hell because they thought hybrids were below them, or other hybrids being territorial or setting off his instincts, with two of them being avians, he knew it would be difficult to keep his instincts under control. He hadn't had high hopes then.
But it's actually been easier than Tommy thought it would be, they leave him alone for the most part- except for Wilbur, who insists on bothering him every chance he has- and haven't forced him to do anything, which makes them arguably the best foster he's had in ages.
His suspicions on how Wilbur would act when he saw him were correct when the phantom’s eyes lit up and a smile split his face. He actually stayed quiet for once though when Tommy shot him a look, causing the other to snicker. Tommy was pretty sure he saw the brunette’s pupils dilate.
“Tommy! It's nice to see you this morning,” Wilbur said energetically, no doubt having already down two cups of coffee.
“Wilbur!” Tommy started, matching the phantom's energy for one word, “It's too early for this,” he deadpanned.
Phil snorted as he walked into the room with two plates, putting them on the table at Wilbur and Techno's spots before turning around to get another two plates from the kitchen.
“I'm gonna have to agree with Tommy on this one, Wilbur,” Techno said from where he was sitting at the table, the avian’s wings spread out as far as they could comfortably go without obstructing any walkways.
“You two are no fun,” Wilbur pouted, crossing his arms and looking away dramatically.
“Kinda hard to be fun when it's early in the morning and I have to go to school,” Tommy replied, sitting down just as Phil walked back in with the last two plates, setting them down on the table.
Tommy ate in silence, listening to the others as they made small talk, occasionally joining in to voice his own opinion.
After he finished up his breakfast, Tommy stood up and brought his plate to the sink, going back into the living room to grab his backpack.
“I'm going to walk to school today,” he shouted, letting the others know so they wouldn't panic- he'd made the mistake of forgetting to tell them once, never again.
All three of them let out some form of confirmation that they heard him as he made his way out of the door, double checking that he had his house key on him before shutting it fully.
He started his trek to school, enjoying the breeze against his skin and hair. It reminded him of being high up, like he was flying- a luxury he didn't often get. He inhaled the cool air before returning his attention to not being run over while crossing the street.
Once he got to school, Tommy scanned the front of the school for Tubbo and Ranboo, perking up when he saw the duo. They seemed to spot him at the same time, with Tubbo waving his hand in the air for Tommy to come over.
“Tommy! How're you doing boss man?” Tubbo greeted as soon as the avian got close enough.
“As well as I can be after accidentally leaving my wing binder on overnight,” Tommy responded, lowering his voice as he spoke.
Ranboo shot Tommy a look, “Accidentally?”
He winced at the enderman hybrid's tone of voice, knowing full well what the taller teen was implying.
“Yes, I just got too tired doing homework and wasn't thinking correctly, I swear it wasn't on purpose. I don't do that anymore.”
Ranboo sighed and pinched their nose bridge, taking a deep breath before responding.
“I'm going to trust you, but if I find out you've fallen back into that habit I'm going to stick Tubbo on you, you know he'll show up uninvited.”
“I will,” Tubbo nodded seriously.
“I am fully aware, you've done it before,” Tommy sighed.
“And I'll do it again!” The goat hybrid grinned before headbutting Tommy in the arm.
Tommy laughed and pushed Tubbo away, who also snickered.
At that moment, the bell rang, signaling the first warning to get to class.
“Shit- let's go,” Tommy said.
The trio split up once inside to go to their respective lockers, Tommy's own locker graciously close to his first class. He rushed to grab the stuff he needed and made sure to close his locker before speed walking to his first class.
—
“Are you okay Tommy?” One of his classmates questioned him.
Tommy groaned internally and picked his head up from his arms.
“Yeah, m’ just tired,” technically not a lie, though he may or may not have left out the fact that his back and wings were actually killing him.
They had to be when it felt like pins and needles all along his back and up through his wings, only the pins and needles are being thrust as deep into his skin as possible and being set on fire at the same time.
His classmate nodded and turned back around, accepting the answer easily.
Tommy hadn't been paying attention to the teacher and he wasn't planning on starting now, this was math, he could always ask one of his foster brothers for help or ask Tubbo and Ranboo if he didn't know how to do something. And if all else failed he could always just look the answers up.
He sighed and put his head back down, feeling a headache beginning to form behind his eyes. The loud ringing of the bell didn't help either.
He had to hype himself up to finally stand up and flinched when a sharp wave of pain shot through his entire back. He was definitely going to lock his door and sleep with his wings out tonight.
Tommy picked up his stuff and began making his way over to his last class of the day, gym class.
He used to love gym class, it had been one of the easiest classes to pass and it was the last class of the day, but recently some other boys in the class have taken to trying to bully him in any way possible, and with how his back and wings were hurting, he was even less willing to try and tolerate them than usual. Tommy had a feeling he would either end up crying today, or killing someone, honestly maybe both.
In the locker room, he put his stuff in his gym locker and grabbed his clothes, going to the bathroom to change in one of the stalls. He was tempted to remove his wing binder for a few seconds but decided against it, school was almost over, he could handle it, he just needed to stop being a little bitch.
After changing into his clothes for the class, he put his regular clothes away and stepped into the gym room. Soon after, the instructor of the class started speaking.
They were going to be allowed access to the equipment like the basketballs or jump ropes, though they were allowing people to just walk around the gym as well. While usually Tommy would take a basketball, he decided against it, not wanting to strain anything more than he already had. Plus, it was kind of interesting to look around the room while people did their own separate activities.
At first, it was actually kind of pleasant- if he ignored to constant aching- but of course as soon as he thought that, the universe had to laugh in his face and say ‘fuck you’ because lo and behold, there were those stupid kids that tried to constantly bully him.
“Hey Tommy!” One of them said, with an ugly smile on his ugly face.
Tommy sighed and just continued walking, ignoring the kids as one of them jeered at him.
“I know you heard me, dumbass,” the same guy spoke again, sounding angrier than before.
Tommy once again ignored the kid and kept walking, smiling slightly when he shouted at him.
Of course any semblance of happiness or satisfaction just had to be crushed when they were around because two seconds later, they threw a basketball at him full force.
“Think fast!” One kid laughed, causing him to start turning.
He was too late though as, without warning, the basketball hit his back with a sickening crack.
The impact of the ball sent him falling onto the ground, the air knocked out of his lungs and his back flaring in agonizing pain. He cried out as he hit the floor, the sharp pain shooting through his entire body like electricity.
“Holy shit was that a crack?” One of the kids said, all of them deathly silent as Tommy struggled for air on the ground.
He felt his eyes as they welled up with tears and his chest constricted into panic when he couldn't get air into his lungs- and holy shit he couldn't breath he couldn't breath hecouldn’tbreathholyshitpleaseheneedsair-
The instructor rushed over and helped Tommy stand up- the pain flaring from his back snapping him out of the near panic attack- his lungs still refusing to fill with air and his vision blurry with the tears from the pain, or maybe it was him passing out, that seemed likely too.
—
The walk to the nurse's office had been agony, but at least he had managed to learn how to breathe again, not that he wanted to with how badly the ache in his wings and back intensified every time he breathed in and how it burned like fire.
He bit the inside of his cheek hard enough that he started to taste blood, and he was on the constant verge of bursting out into tears.
Fuck those kids. Fuck them. They could go fucking rot in a ditch.
The nurse looked at him sympathetically and handed him an ice pack for the ‘bruise he surely had on his back’ while she called Phil to come pick him up. Some other student walked into the room with Tommy's stuff and set it down next to him before leaving.
He definitely did not grab Wilbur's sweater and he did not shove his face into it and anyone who says otherwise is a liar and a fraud and they're trying to to take advantage of the fact that he is in agonizing pain to lie about him. Yup. It would totally be a lie.
After what felt like literal ages of trying not to cry in front of the nurse and also resisting the urge to poke at his back to see what the fuck was wrong with it and his wings, he was told that Phil was there to pick him up and he nearly started sobbing then and there in relief.
Tommy could finally go home and take some pain pills and then lock himself in his room and take his binder off.
He carefully hopped off of the bed in the nurse's office and picked up his stuff, gathering it into his arms- he inhaled sharply as it felt like his wing was being stabbed repeatedly with a rusty knife.
Stepping outside, he spotted Phil's car and made his way over to it, opening the door to the passenger seat and sitting down inside, positioning himself to not have to lean against the car seat. He grimaced and had to smother a pained chirp.
“Hey Tommy, how are you doing?” Phil asked, looking at him with a concerned expression.
“M’ fine, some kids hit me in the back with a basketball and knocked the air out of me but that's it,” Tommy replied, casually leaving out the intense pain in his back, he was not about to reveal his wings right now.
“I'm sorry mate, we can get you some pain meds at home if you think you'll need them,” Phil said in turn, pulling out of the school parking lot once the door was closed.
“That would be awesome.”
—
The car ride was almost worse than the walk to the nurse's office, his back aching almost worse than before with the awkward angle he had to bend himself to not touch the seat. Tommy could tell that Phil was shooting him some concerned looks occasionally while he drived, but the older avian didn't ask any questions to his relief- a part of him almost wanted Phil to ask, a part of him wanted to trust the avian, he scolded that part of him. Something told him that Phil didn't believe Tommy when he said he was fine.
The drive back to the house was mercifully short and Tommy wasted no time in getting out of the car and rushing inside the house, the unlocked door telling him that either Wilbur or Techno was home already. He rushed past the living room and kitchen and dumped his stuff onto the floor of his room- he grabbed the sweater off of the pile, grasping it tightly as the pain in his wing flared up again.
He went across the hall into the bathroom and pulled open one of the drawers, grabbing the pain meds and flinching when a sharp pain once again pierced through his back.
Tommy cursed at the child cap on the pill bottle as he tried and failed multiple times to open it, dumping a few pills into his hand when he finally managed to get the cap off.
He swallowed the pills dry and recapped the bottle, putting it back into the drawer.
Tommy sighed massaged his forehead, trudging back into his room and locking the door behind him.
He sat down on his bed and gingerly started removing his shirt, biting his lip every time the pain flared. He carefully unfastened his wing binder and failed to smother a pained chirp when the sharp pain turned into a burning sensation when his right wing moved.
Tommy opened his eyes from when they had squeezed shut- when did that happen?- and looked over at his wing, his face falling blank seeing it lay limply on the bed. He attempted to lift his wing and slapped his hand to his mouth as he cried out, his tears finally falling and running down his face at the sheer pain he felt.
He tried his best to turn his head to look at his back, but he couldn't see it through his blurred vision and the fact that he couldn't turn his head far enough anyways.
Tommy stood up to- to what? He didn't know what he stood up to do but as soon as he did he heard a knock on his door.
“Tommy? You okay in there?” Wilbur. It was Wilbur. Okay. That's fine.
He quickly and aggressively rubbed the tears from his face and eyes and took a few deep breaths before responding.
“Yeah, yeah I'm fine, I just hit my elbow really hard.”
“...okay, well, I'm going to watch a movie if you want to join me?” Wilbur responded, his tone sounding slightly concerned- goddamnit why was everyone always concerned.
“Sure, yeah, I'll join you in a second,” Tommy replied, internally face palming a second layer because holy shit he was fucking stupid- his wing was probably broken and it hurt like hell to try and move it- which he needed to do to bind his wings- and he he needed to bind his wings to leave his room and he just- just holy shit.
Why the fuck was he like this?
Tommy gritted his teeth and attempted to lift his wing again, flinching at every single influx of pain. He eventually decided that trying to bind his wings wasn't worth it and just threw his shirt on over top- not that doing that helped with the pain at all, he still had to scrunch up his wing and it hurt like fucking hell and he was crying again and it was definitely more noticeable than if he binded it so he also threw Wilbur's sweater on over top and it was still kind of noticeable so-
Oh my god he just needed to shut his brain up somehow because all of this worrying and overthinking was getting fucking annoying. What the hell happened to his ‘fuck it’ mentality he used to have?
Tommy sighed, wincing at his wing. He was just going to hope and pray that it wasn't too noticeable. He wiped his tears once again and took a deep breath.
He unlocked his door and opened it, stepping outside and making his way to the living room, spotting Wilbur on the couch with the TV remote in hand, his phantom wings splayed out and his freckles glowing faintly in the dim light.
When the phantom hybrid looked up at Tommy, his expression morphed into one of concern.
“Are you sure that you're okay?” He questioned.
“Yes, I'm good,” Tommy replied, picking at his sweater sleeve, tensing when the pain continued to flare up.
Wilbur furrowed his brows, obviously not convinced. Fuck.
“You look like you're on the verge of tears, Tommy, I don't think that counts as ‘good’ to most people.”
“Well I'm not most people, so suck it bitch.”
Wilbur raised an eyebrow at how Tommy's voice wavered but didn't press further.
“Oh by the way, dad left again, he said he was going to the store,” Wilbur said, flicking through different movies on Netflix, eventually stopping on Spiderman: Across the Spider Verse.
Tommy sighed slightly and leaned back as far as he dared on the couch, biting the inside of his cheek mercilessly, continuing even when he started tasting blood.
—
Tommy probably lasted about 5 minutes into the movie, which thinking back on it, was about 20 more minutes than he should've lasted. Honestly it was a miracle he hadn't given himself away when he first broke his fucking wing.
He had managed to convince himself that the movie was a good enough distraction from the pain, letting himself relax as much as he could with his right wing still feeling like it was on fucking fire. That was his first mistake.
His second mistake was leaning backwards, flinching violently when his back brushed the couch.
Wilbur, the little bitch, noticed. Because of course he did. He always seemed to notice when Tommy was uncomfortable.
“Tommy?” Wilbur said his name questioningly. Fuck.
He froze.
“Yeah?”
“Are you actually sure that you're okay?”
Fuck fuck fuck.
“Yeah, of course I'm okay big man, why wouldn't I be?”
Wilbur once again looked at him in concern. It didn't seem like he was going to accept that answer this time.
God fucking damnit.
“Tommy, you just flinched, you have also looked like you were in pain this entire time. I don't know what's wrong but-” Wilbur's wings flared out in concern, accidentally smacking against his side. Right where his broken wing was awkwardly positioned.
Tommy flinched violently and he couldn't smother a chirp in time before it escaped his mouth- his vision blurring in pain as he scrambled backwards.
Wilbur's eyes widened and his pupils dilated, his instincts set off by the distressed chirp.
“Holy shit- are you okay? I didn't mean to-” Wilbur cut himself off as the chirp finally registered in his mind, his eyes widening further.
“I- I'm just going to ignore that and instead I'm going to ask, Tommy. What the fuck happened? Why are you in pain?”
Tommy swallowed, his back and wing throbbing again, spots dancing in his vision as he struggled to get air in for a second.
“I-”
“Don't make an excuse please,” Wilbur pleaded, his voice wobbling, “I accepted them before but you just full body flinched and, at most, my wing hitting you should have just stung.”
Tommy was about to completely disregard everything the phantom hybrid just said before he looked into the brunette's eyes. Wilbur was on the verge of tears.
He was- why was he- why?
“You- are you- are you going to cry?”
“Yes I'm going to fucking cry! I just hurt you and I don't know how and you're in pain and I can't help when I'm supposed to be able to help when my haunting is in pain but I don't know why you are so-” Wilbur cut himself off as he started to hyperventilate, the phantom fumbling with his pockets to grab his phone, likely to text or call Phil or Techno.
Fuck this wasn't good.
Wait.
Did Wilbur just call him haunting?
Huh.
That…strangely that didn't feel horrible.
Despite himself, he felt a warm feeling curling in his gut, his mind going a little fuzzy around the edges as his pupils dilated.
Wilbur aggressively typed something on his phone while also looking like he was about to start sobbing at any second.
That wasn't right. His flock shouldn't look upset. Why was he upset?
Tommy cooed, causing Wilbur to snap his head up in shock.
“Oh- oh fuck…” The brunette whispered.
Tommy chirped again, if his flock was upset he could comfort them. His wings flared out slightly and he hissed in pain when his broken wing throbbed in pain.
“You're an avian…do you have…?” Wilbur trailed off, his eyes searching for something behind Tommy and narrowing in worry when he didn't find whatever it was he was looking for.
“Where are your wings Tommy?” His voice was gentler than he thinks he's ever heard, it only served to make him coo again.
Wings? He had wings, did Wilbur not see them? Was that why he was upset?
Tommy pulled Wilbur’s sweater off and then did the same to his shirt- he made sure to put the sweater back on, he knew his flock liked it- once again causing the phantom's eyes to widen.
He tried to flare his wings out again, but only his left wing responded, his right wing continuing to just throb in pain.
“I guess that answers that question but wh-” Wilbur cut himself off with a shriek that startled Tommy.
The brunette leaned forward and reached out to Tommy's right wing, his hands hovering over it in a panicky fashion like he didn't know what to do.
Oh. His flock was upset because he was hurt. But he was hurt often. It was fine! Sure, this hurt worse than it usually did when he got hurt and sure, he could feel his eyes starting to well up again but it was still fine!
He warbled and cooed as best as he could in a reassuring fashion but Wilbur just shook his head with a panicked trill.
Tommy's attention was drawn to the front door as he heard it open, frantic footsteps echoing in the foyer before he saw Phil emerge from the hallway.
Flock! His instincts cheered. Caretaker! Provider!
“Wilbur? What's wrong? You sent me a text and then didn't respond-” Phil cut himself off when he heard a chirp from Tommy, the older avian's wings flaring out.
“ Phil, ” Wilbur whined, turning his head to face the avian.
“Phil he's hurt -”
“What? How?” Phil finally moved to approach the couch, making Tommy's instincts sing in satisfaction.
“I don't- his wing- it- it doesn't- it looks wrong Phil,” Wilbur sounded increasingly more distressed as he spoke, making Tommy start warbling again.
Phil froze before he also chirped, causing Wilbur to look over at him.
“What do we do? I can't- I don't know how he isn't crying or something right now- it looks broken-”
“It's probably some sort of adrenaline high, or his instincts were set off by something other than the pain, causing him to focus more on that than the fact that he's injured-”
“Well, while I guess it's good he isn't focusing on it right now he's still hurt and he needs to not be hurt, Phil,” Wilbur said, cutting Phil's explanation off with a distressed hiss.
“Do you think you can help get him to the car?” Phil asked, still looking at Tommy.
“I- maybe?”
“We're going to take him to the doctor, try and get him into the car without jostling his broken wing too much.”
“Okay.”
“I'll let Techno know what's going on, it'll be okay,” Phil said.
“Okay,” Wilbur replied again, looking back at Tommy who had gone silent, watching his flock members as they talked.
—
Tommy inhaled deeply as the movie flashed across the screen, his brain barely following or registering what was happening beyond the fact that it was colourful.
He leaned into Wilbur’s side, one of the phantom hybrid's bat-like wings wrapped around him, careful not to irritate his wing that was bandaged to his back.
It had been a nightmare to explain what had happened to him to Tubbo and Ranboo- who had been spamming and blowing up his phone after someone told them about why he went home- with the anxiety surrounding the whole ‘him revealing his wings’ thing on top of it.
Phil had told him that they didn't have to talk about it right then, but that they would eventually have to address it. And while Tommy would rather never address it, it probably was a good idea.
He leaned further into Wilbur as his eyelids started to droop, faintly aware of the brunette smiling down at him as he fell asleep, soothed by his flock’s heartbeat.