Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Tommy didn’t know much, if anything at all. He lived in a house, in a neighborhood. He went to school when he wanted, besides the weekends. He had a father and a brother. Tommy didn’t know anything besides that. Everytime he tried to remember things, he’d just get this sinking feeling in his chest. It's easier to just ignore it rather than confront it. 

Tommy found comfort in not knowing. He had his routine and life was simple. He rarely spoke anymore, he never really liked his voice in the first place. He hardly ever saw his family, if he could even call them that anymore. Tommy also didn’t have any friends. It was just him and his thoughts most of the time. He was not very fond of his thoughts.

Tommy paced around his room, he was bored. He didn’t do much with his free time. He’d usually be asleep. If he wasn’t sleeping, he was probably smoking. Tommy started smoking in the 7th grade. Some 8th grader had sold him a vape on the bus. He spiraled from there. He only ever smoked THC now, nicotine was not fun to quit. He liked getting high, it helped him forget. He knew his brain became more clouded after he started smoking regularly. But he just couldn’t bring himself to care. He didn’t care for much anymore. 

He decided that instead of wasting away in his room, he should just go to the shop. His cart was almost finished anyway. He was lucky he looked older than he was. He was sixteen, but he rarely got ID’d. Maybe they just didn’t care. Tommy walked over to his backpack and pulled out his wallet. He left his room after slipping on his shoes. He quickly exited the house. It was nice outside, perfect sweater weather. Tommy always had a sweater on, he hated his arms. The shop wasn't too far from the house. For that, he was thankful. 

Sometimes Tommy felt like a fraud in his own mind. For starters, Tommy wasn't even his real name. He didn't know his real name. No one called him Tommy, that was just him. Whenever people said his name, which was rare, he just wasn't able to hear it. It was beyond annoying. Instead, the sound would be replaced by a high-pitched noise. He didn't like it. He didn't even understand why it happened. It was just something he got used to. 

Entering the shop always felt weird. He always felt like he was being watched. To be fair he probably was. He was just a paranoid person in general. He got a Whole Melt, paid for it, and left. It took no more than five minutes. It felt longer though. The guy who worked there already knew Tommy. He came pretty often to be honest. The two never spoke though, there was no need, He just bought his shit and left. It was his routine.

The walk back was more of the same. Just him and his thoughts, the way it always was. Recently he’d been thinking a lot about his brother. They were so different. He was smart, while Tommy was failing practically every class. He didn’t need to be high to feel alive. Tommy did. That's what he hates about himself the most. He’s so damn self-destructive. It was exhausting. He hated the fact that he would ruin things for himself. He can't even remember his past anymore. He knew that was his own fault. Everything always was.

He came back to an empty house. Typical, he thought. This was his every day, he hated it. He doesn't know much about his past, but he does know that at one point he was loved. Clearly not anymore. He was tired. Tommy walked through the house, there was dust everywhere. It almost didn’t look lived in. It never really felt lived in. It was usually just him. 

As soon as he entered his room he immediately went looking for a box. The box was hidden under his bed, it had all his ‘bad kid stuff’ in it. In all honesty it was just a few empty carts, an empty bottle of alcohol, a half filled bottle, and a few razor blades. Not much at all. He put his new cart in the box, and quickly slid it under his bed again. He then laid on his bed, not bothering to change out of his clothes. He fell asleep rather fast, he had just been so tired

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Tommy woke up tired. He hadn’t gotten ‘good sleep’ in months. Maybe years. He didn’t get up from his bed, instead turning on his side and checking his phone. 5:00 AM. There was school today. He didn’t feel like going. He rarely went to school, and when he did, he’d only show up for a class or two. School was boring. It’s not like it matters. He doesn’t matter.

Tommy decides to go to his first period today. He probably hadn’t gone to it in about two weeks or so. Although, he isn’t good with time and dates. It’s not like he had anything better to do. So he begrudgingly gets up. He spent 15 minutes picking out what to wear. He never cared much for appearances, but it had been a while since he’d gone. He might as well look half-way decent. He throws on a random t-shirt he found at the bottom of his closet, and a pair of jeans. It was just school, no need to be fancy. 

Tommy quickly grabs the box from under his bed. He wanted to make sure everything was still inside. He knew no one would care to check, but he still felt paranoid. He always felt paranoid. He mentally checks off the items in the box, it’s all still there. He shoves the box back under his bed.

He’s ready for school by 6:30 AM. School didn’t start until 8:00 AM. He had a whole hour and a half of time to kill. He might as well finish his old cart. So, he does. He takes blinker after blinker, until it tastes burnt. It burns, but not as bad anymore. The back of his throat hurt constantly. He wasn’t sure why.

By the time he leaves his house, Tommy is incredibly high. Tommy had made sure he brought everything he’d need for school. He wouldn’t be there for long anyways. Since Tommy didn’t have a ride, he walked. 

Memories of banter-filled car rides fill his mind. Listening to the radio as he talks about how much he didn’t want to go to school. Watching his family pay attention to him. How calm it all felt. How real-

It was windy. Tommy made sure he had a sweater on. In all honesty, he couldn’t feel the cold. He couldn’t feel anything. He preferred things to be that way. It made things simpler.

The school wasn’t very far from his house. It was only a 15 minute walk. He didn’t really mind walking. It was rather relaxing. The closer he got to the school though, the worse he felt. He began regretting coming to school. Staying at home would’ve been better. Once the school was visible, he hesitated. He’d rather die than go back.

Tommy eventually builds up the courage to enter the building after a few minutes of contemplating. He nervously walks into the school. He almost didn’t remember the place, it had been a while. He honestly didn’t remember much at all. But it was especially bad when it came to school. He honestly couldn’t tell you what classes he was taking.

Tommy began walking upstairs to his first, and only, class. He wasn’t sure what subject it was, but at least he knew the door number. He walked into the class, being greeted by a teacher. “Hello T------, it’s been a while since I’ve seen you,” his teacher said. He had forgotten his whole name thing for a moment. No one had spoken to him in a while. Tommy doesn’t bring himself to respond, instead opting to just sit down.

He zones out for most of the class, still coming down from his high. He had no idea what was going on. However, he did notice his teacher shooting weird glances his way. It was weird. He honestly, would have just walked out of the class. But he didn’t. He stayed put and listened. But not really.

By the time the bell rang, Tommy was exhausted. He had only been at school for maybe an hour. Again, he isn’t good with time. He quickly walks out of class, before his teacher can pull him aside. He didn’t feel like talking to anyone anymore. Tommy made his way out the building with ease. He had done this so many times before, it was almost routine. He didn’t show up nearly enough for it to really become one though. It had gotten significantly warmer since he had last been outside. It was nice.

The walk back home was interesting to say the least. He felt like he was being watched. Which was strange because no one was around. It was just him. He still couldn’t shake the feeling though. So he did what any person would do in this scenario. He went into a busy store. Now, Tommy had money, so he thought he’d just buy something small and then leave. However, while he walked through the store, he continued to feel surveilled. Someone had to be following him or something. But each time he’d search, he wouldn’t find anyone. At this point he just wanted to go home. So he cut his losses and booked it out of the store.

By the time Tommy got home, he had been so tired. He hadn’t stopped running until he made it to his house. Despite the emptiness, he felt calm for a moment. He just wanted to catch his breath. He was so tired, all he wanted to do was sleep. But Tommy can’t have nice things.

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The moment he walked into the house, something felt off. The air felt tense, and the house radiated a strange energy. It was unexplainable. He decided to ignore these feelings and just go to his room. His room was his safe haven, he felt like he could truly be alone here. He’s always alone. 

The first thing he did in his room was check his box. He made sure everything was still inside, untouched. He always got a little paranoid when it came to these things. He was paranoid when it came to tons of things. It’s just how he is. He doesn’t know why.

He was pretty bored, no one was home so he could do whatever he pleased. He decided to crack open his half filled bottle of alcohol and drink some. The bottle was Casamigos, tequila, it was probably his favorite. It didn’t burn his throat as bad as it used to, he’d gotten used to it by this point. He liked getting drunk, it was always fun.

Being drunk meant he was free. He liked being free. It meant being happy. He looked down at the bottle in his hands. It had only a quarter of the liquid left inside. He didn’t remember drinking so much. He quickly put the bottle back into the box. He stared at the items inside. He liked to count them a few times, making sure he had everything. It kept him sane.

After double checking the contents of the box, he shoved it under his bed. He got up from the floor, and went to lay down on his bed. He stared at the ceiling, watching the shapes on the walls. He knew they weren’t really there, he was just drunk. He got bored of that pretty fast. So he checked his phone. He didn’t really text anyone, not like he had any friends. So, he scrolled through TikTok for a bit.

He looked at the time, it was 3:00 PM. He hadn’t even realized the time. He had been pretty out of it. Being drunk was weird. It always reminded him of someone, he honestly couldn't tell you who. Everytime he tried to remember things from his past, he’d just get a headache. So he simply didn’t. It was easier to forget everything.

At some point, Tommy had wandered downstairs. He was in the kitchen. Maybe he was looking for food, but he didn't remember. He checked every cabinet. He wasn’t looking for anything in particular. He was just bored. He came across a medicine cabinet. It was full of pill bottles. Most of them were empty, but some still had a few left. No one was home. No one would notice if he took a few.

He checked all the labels, but they were just some pain killers. He opened a few of the bottles and took out about ten mystery pills. Tommy shoved the pills into a Ziploc bag he found. He didn’t really have anything to lose if he took them. He then went looking for a bottle of water, so he could take them. He found one in the pantry before retreating to his room. With his new found goodies in hand of course.

Tommy did not take the pills right away though. He wanted to smoke. Despite getting high in the morning, he did it again. Smoking was fun, struggling to breathe afterwards wasn’t. Tommy would say he had a pretty high tolerance all things considered. He had been smoking for years by this point. He still remembers his first high as if it were yesterday. It was probably the scariest thing he had ever gone through. But it was fun.

Tommy only ever smoked cart not, nicotine just wasn’t for him. He used to though. During his middle school days, he always had nic on him. Those were really weird times for him. He doesn’t remember much from those days. Nicotine didn’t get him high, so he stopped smoking it. There was no point in being buzzed for a few minutes. Instead, he could just be high. He liked being high more than being buzzed. Being drunk was also pretty cool.

Tommy remembered the pills he had just acquired from downstairs. He decided he would take them later, probably when he wanted to sleep. He went to put them into his box. He also took out his new cart and began to smoke. He knew some tricks, but they weren’t all that crazy. He had seen people blow O’s before. He could never quite figure out how to do it right. He could ghost pretty well though. It wasn’t too impressive, but it looked kind of cool. 

Sometimes when he was high, he would just get sleepy. He was feeling pretty tired now. Tommy wanted to rest. He thought about the pills under his bed. He thought about the bottle of alcohol he had as well. He thought about the long forgotten bottle of pills in his nightstand. He went to grab his box from under his bed. The first thing he noticed was his razor. He used to cut himself a lot. It had been a minute since he had. One wouldn’t hurt.

The next few moments were a blur. He gazed down at his arm, only to see red. He was bleeding again. He didn't want to risk leaving blood anywhere, so he went to find some bandaids. He made his way out of his room, and into the bathroom. There was a box of bandaids under the sink. He grabbed a few bandaids, as well as some toilet paper, and went back to his room. He cleaned off some of the blood on his arm. And then he began to put some bandaids on. His arm was buzzing with pain. Maybe now he should take those pills.

He emptied the bag full of pills onto the palm of his hand. He wasn’t sure what kind of pills they even were. He cracked open a fresh bottle of water and began to take each pill one by one. By the time he had no pills left in his hand, he began to have a headache. His thoughts started to get sloppier than they were before. He quickly shoved everything into his box, forgetting to double check, and shoved it under his bed once again.

He laid down on his back, as the pills began to work their magic. He was tired. He wanted nothing more than to sleep. His head hurt. His arm hurt. His everything hurt. He just wanted to sleep. So he did.

Chapter Text

Tommy is used to restless sleep. He never dreams. When he wakes up, his mind is clouded. He remembers taking random pills before passing out. He has a headache. He didn’t feel like getting up. 

He wasn’t always like this. He remembers having friends, having a family. He didn’t know when he lost them. He just couldn’t remember. But sometimes, if he tried hard enough, he could remember their faces.

“Hurry up T------,” his friend Tubbo called out. They were running around a flower field, picking out any pretty flowers they saw. “I’m coming man,” he said. He had been staring at a purple flower on the ground. He debated pulling it out of the ground. He thought his other friend might appreciate it.

Tommy got up after a while of staring at the ceiling. He was bored. He looked out the window to see that it was nighttime. He wanted to go for a walk. He walked over to where his shoes were and slipped them on. He then went to check his box, he felt like smoking tonight. He grabbed his cart and stuffed it in his pocket. 

The air outside was crisp, almost refreshing. Tommy didn’t have a destination in mind as he left the house. He just didn’t feel like being there anymore. He wasn’t sure if anyone else was in the house. It’s not like they’d even care. They wouldn’t even notice his absence.

Tommy continued walking until he ended up at a bridge. He had been here many times. He liked to smoke here. He never came here on purpose, he always just managed to end up here. There was one time though, where he sought out this place. He didn’t like thinking about it.

No one cares, he thought. He sat on the ledge of the bridge, his legs dangling. I should just throw myself off. Tommy didn’t know how to swim.

Tommy pulled his cart out from his pocket. Might as well get high . He went over to the ledge and sat down. He began to smoke. Smoking always helped get his mind off of things. It was probably his favorite activity, besides drinking. He swung his legs back and forth, as he watched puffs of smoke morph with the wind. It was a beautiful sight.

As he smoked, Tommy felt a sense of being watched again. This wasn’t normal. There weren't usually people at this bridge. He had never seen anyone here before, and he’d been here plenty of times.

He looked around at his surroundings. He didn’t see anyone around. He wasn’t sure why he was feeling this way. Suddenly, he spots someone. They were standing under a tree at the other end of the bridge. It was dark outside, he could barely make out the figure. Tommy was conflicted.

Tommy decided that it would be a good idea to walk up to this guy. To be fair, he was already fried. Tommy gets off from the ledge, and begins to walk to the tree. As he gets closer to the guy, he gets a better look at them. The guy is tall, like really tall. They’re wearing all black, including a black face mask and a pair of sunglasses. Tommy finds the attire strange.

The guy doesn’t seem to notice Tommy as he walks up to them. “Hello,” Tommy says. The guy seems startled. “H-hello?” they ask. “What are you doing here so late?” Tommy asks. “I could ask you the same thing,” they respond. Tommy shrugs; “I asked first,” he says. They sigh before responding, “I’m just getting some fresh air I guess. I haven’t had the best day”. Tommy nods. “That’s fair,” he says. “So, what about you? Why are you here?” they ask. Tommy thinks for a bit. He’s not sure if he should tell them that he was smoking. They probably already saw him. “I was just smoking,” he said. They look surprised; “Aren’t you a little young to be smoking?” they ask. “Yeah, but who gives a shit,” Tommy says. “Fair,” they respond.

The two share a comfortable silence. At some point, Tommy had begun smoking again. The other guy didn’t seem to mind. It was nice. “Y’know,” they start, “I never caught your name”. Tommy sighs, “You can call me Tommy”. “Ranboo,” they say. Tommy chuckles, “Weird name dude”. “You’re acting like I chose it,” they respond. This Ranboo guy doesn’t seem half bad. 

The two stay under the tree for a while. Tommy lost track of time. He’d learned quite a bit about them. For starters, they didn’t smoke. That much was obvious though. They didn’t mind that Tommy did though. They were pretty nice about it. They were also the same age as Tommy, 16. They were older than him though. 

At some point, they had to leave. Tommy was a little sad to see them go. For some reason though, he got the feeling that he knew them from somewhere. They just felt familiar. He couldn't put his finger on it though. It was strange to say the least.

That had probably been the most interesting time he’d ever spent by the bridge. He didn’t exactly plan on meeting anyone new today. It was surprisingly nice though. In all honesty, Tommy was stalling. He didn’t feel like going back to the house. He decided to walk around a bit more.

Somehow, Tommy ended up at a McDonald’s. He had no recollection of walking here. He just remembered being by the tree with Ranboo at one moment. And then ending up at McDonald’s. He didn’t mind though. The munchies were hitting him pretty hard anyways. Tommy checked his pockets to see if he remembered to bring his wallet, he did. Tommy ended up ordering an ice cream cone. 

When he walked out of the McDonald’s, he realized that he had no idea where he was. He grabbed his phone from his back pocket and checked the time. It was 1:00 AM. He opened his phone and checked Maps. He was 30 minutes away from the house. He sighed. He had a long walk ahead of him. 

Chapter Text

The walk home was exhausting to say the least. He decided that he'd smoke while he walked back, maybe he has a problem. Despite that, by the time he got home he was completely out of it. He was pretty sure his eyes were red, it's not like anyone would notice though. 

Once he approached the house, he noticed a car in the driveway. That was not there before he left, right? He shrugged it off and walked over to the front door. He took his key out of his pocket and unlocked the door. Tommy walked inside.

The lights were on for some reason, that's strange. He checked his phone, 1:43 AM. “What do you think you're doing coming home so late? Do you even know what time it is? What have you been doing? You smell like marijuana,” Phil yelled at him. Tommy didn't feel like getting into a screaming match today. “Fuck off,” Tommy slurred. Phil grabbed his shoulders; “Let me see your eyes”. Phil looked him in the eyes, Tommy didn't doubt they were red. “My god T------, what has gotten into you,” Phil sighed, “If I had half a mind I’d call your brother down”. Tommy didn't say anything. In all honesty, he was out of it. Completely and utterly.

Tommy ended up pushing past Phil and going to his room. He wanted to sleep. Life had other plans though, as banging was heard from outside his door. “You get back here right now young man, we need to talk.” Phil screamed. At this point, his brother was probably awake. Tommy sighed, slipping his cart into his pillow case. It wasn't his usual hiding spot, but he didn’t have time to pull out his box. 

Tommy walked over to his door and opened it, only to reveal Phil and Techno. Great. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” Phil asked. “There's nothing fucking wrong with me,” Tommy said. Phil grabbed his arm and dragged him downstairs. He just so happened to grab where Tommy had cut. Things were really looking up for him. Phil dragged Tommy to the dining table, Techno followed. He still had yet to say a word to him. Tommy was pretty dizzy, and tired. If he had smoked anymore, he would probably be asleep standing up. 

“Now you tell me right now what you were doing out so late, it's nearly two in the morning,” Phil yelled. Whenever he and Tommy were in the same place, there'd always be a screaming match. This was normal. “Fucking- I don't know. What the fuck do you want me to say? I was doing homework,” Tommy said. “Don't joke around right now,” Phil said sternly. Tommy rolled his eyes, he didn't want to be here. “What the hell do you think I was doing?” Tommy said. “No, I know what you did. I just want to hear it come from your mouth,” Phil said. He’s such a fucking bitch. “I was fucking smoking dude, is that what you wanted to hear,” Tommy replied. Tommy would’ve felt mad if he wasn’t unbelievably high right now. 

Tommy glanced at Techno, he looked disappointed. It’s not like Tommy cared at all though. He didn’t even really understand why Phil cared, he’s never here anyways. Phil sighed, “Is that all,” he looked sad. Tommy scoffed, “Yeah whatever”. Phil didn’t say anything else, he just left. Techno stayed though. “What’s going on with you?” Techno asked. Techno’s always been very monotonous, it’s something Tommy’s used to.  “I dunno,” Tommy shrugs. He didn’t feel like talking to him. Techno just stared at him. It was silent for a moment. “You know that shit’s bad for you?” Techno says, stating the obvious. “Well aware,” Tommy was out of it. Tommy ends up just walking back to his room. He opens the door and nothing has changed. Phil didn’t even bother to search his room. Tommy went over to his pillow and pulled his cart out. He then grabbed his box from under his bed, placing the cart inside. He didn’t feel like smoking anymore. 

Tommy opens his window, it lets in a nice breeze. Tommy’s decided that he’s gonna go on the roof. He wanted to finish his bottle, he’d just buy another tomorrow. He quickly climbed from his window onto the roof. He set the bottle down and just stared up at the stars. He remembers when he was younger, Techno had tried to teach him about the constellations.

“Look up T------,” Techno said as he pointed to the sky. T------ didn’t see much in the sky. He didn't understand why Techno wanted him to look. “I don't see anything,” he said. Techno laughs, “You don't see the stars?”. T------ looks up at the sky again, he sees a couple of white dots in the sky. “Do you mean the white dots?” he asks. “Yeah, those are stars. Sometimes the stars come together and form a constellation. It’s kind of like a picture in the sky,” Techno explains. “Well, I don’t see any pictures,” T------ says. Techno laughs, “Yeah, they’re pretty hard to see,” he paused before pointing to the sky. “You see those stars all come together to form the Lynx. It's supposed to be a big cat, it’s pretty hard to tell though,” Techno says. T------ doesn’t really get it, but he’s just happy to spend time with his big brother.

Tommy took a big swig of his bottle. He didn’t need to think about Techno right now. His throat burned as the alcohol made its way down. Tommy started to regret not bringing his cart, he had that itch. He liked smoking, it just felt right. Tommy didn’t dare go back for it, he knew he wouldn’t come back up here. Instead, he just clutched his bottle and took another sip, albeit smaller than his first.

Tommy isn’t sure how long he’s been up there. It’s probably been ten minutes or so. He hears shuffling coming from his room. He had left the window open, so he’d be able to get back in. Tommy was too crossed to care though, so he just stayed on the roof. 

“What are you doing?” someone calls out. Tommy’s pretty sure it's Techno, Phil wouldn’t care enough to check on him. “Nothing, go away,” Tommy yells back. “T------, I’m coming up,” Techno says. Tommy doesn’t register his words until he’s up on the roof with him. “What do you wa-” Tommy gets cut off. “Why are you drinking?” Techno asks. Tommy shrugs before taking another sip. Techno rolls his eyes. “You gonna snitch?” Tommy asks. “No,” he says. The two just sit there, in silence.

Chapter Text

Tommy doesn't know how long he stays outside for. His brother had left him a while ago. Tommy just couldn't bring himself to go inside. He didn't want to see anyone anyways. He glances up at the sky, it’s sunrise. He decides to go back inside.

Tommy clambers his way back into his room. He was glad Techno had left the window to his room open. It made coming back inside easier. Once inside, he realized how cold he had been. He had on a thin T-shirt and sweatpants. He would probably be sick, but right now he just wanted to sleep. 

Tommy made his way to his bed. He pulls the box out from under his bed. He had long since forgotten the empty bottle of tequila on the roof. Despite that, he counted up all the objects in the box. It was his routine. He slips the box back under his bed. He climbs into his bed and prepares for another restless sleep. He would never dream again.

Tommy wakes up drenched in sweat. A day doesn’t pass where he isn’t in some sort of uncomfortable situation. He didn't deserve comfort. He doesn’t get up for a while. Instead, he chooses to just lay there and stare blankly at the ceiling. 

Tommy’s brain was foggy. It had been for months. He knew it was from the amount of cart he smoked, but he couldn't bring himself to care. Better dead than sober. He prefers things this way. It makes his days go by quicker. It's better this way. But sometimes, he wishes it wasn’t.

After a long while, Tommy grabs his phone to check the time. It’s 12:43 PM. It's only after staring at the screen for a while when he registers the pounding in his head. He had forgotten that he drank last night. Tommy sighs before getting up from his bed. He needed a painkiller.

He made his way downstairs, he just needed to grab a Tylenol. No one was home, per usual. Tommy went over to the medicine cabinet and grabbed the bottle of pills. He's pretty sure he's the only person to use it. He then walks over to the fridge and pulls out some water. He had begun to leave water bottles in the fridge to cool once he took up drinking. It always did help with hangovers.

Tommy struggled a bit trying to get the cap off the pill bottle. He never quite understood the childproof caps. Who gave a shit if a kid took a bunch of pills. If anyone cared, they wouldn't have left the bottle easily accessible for a kid in the first place. Once he got the lid off, he poured out three pills. The recommended dosage was two, but he didn't really care. He took the pills one at a time before chugging the bottle of water. It felt incredibly refreshing, as the water was cold. It helped soothe his head a bit. Not nearly enough.

Tommy heads back up to his room after returning the pills to the cabinet. He wanted to go buy more alcohol. Tommy went over to his backpack and emptied it. He quickly grabbed his keys and wallet before rushing to put his shoes on. He slipped on his, now empty, backpack before heading out. There was a liquor store nearby that never ID’d him. The employee seemed to like him. He also wanted to stop at Safeway. Whenever he went there, he rarely bought anything. He had gotten used to shoving things in his bag. Before he learned of the liquor store, he used to steal bottles of alcohol from Safeway. He had never gotten caught.

The walk to the liquor store was strange to say the least. Tommy felt like he had been being watched. This was the same feeling he had felt the day before. He wasn’t sure what was causing this, but it just kept happening. He continuously looks back over his shoulder, double checking that no one is following him. No one seemed to be following him, but he did run into a familiar face.

“Hey Tommy! Over here,” someone called out to him. Tommy looks over to where the noise came from. He saw Ranboo standing by a tree. They must really love nature. Tommy walks over to them; “Hey there Ranboob,” he says. “That's not my name,” they say. “So, what are you doing here? Don't you have school or something?” Tommy asks, choosing to ignore the previous statement. “I could ask you the same thing,” they respond. Tommy sighs, “I don't really do school, y’know. It's pretty boring”. Ranboo chuckles, “I guess you could say that,” they pause, “I don't really like school either”. Tommy smiles.

The two stay under the tree chatting for a while. Tommy had completely forgotten his original motive for going out. Spending time with Ranboo felt freeing. There was something about them that made Tommy feel like he’d know them forever. He didn't understand it. “Y’know big man,” Tommy thinks for a moment, “I was actually on my way to get some alc, if you wanna tag along with me?” he offers. “Alc?” They raise their eyebrow. Tommy smirks, “You know, alcohol dumbass”. Ranboo’s confused expression doesn't leave their face. “Aren't you a minor? How the hell are you getting alcohol?” they ask. Tommy just laughs, “Oh I have my ways”. Tommy ends up convincing them to join him. 

He leads them down the familiar path to the liquor store. He’d been here so many times before. However, it felt strange having someone with him. “So they just let you buy it?” Ranboo asks. Tommy had reiterated this numerous times before; “Yes Ranboo, they do”. They seem nervous. “If you're sure,” they reply. “Trust me, I've done this so many times,” Tommy says. “As long as you don't say anything I think we'll be fine,” he tells them. Ranboo nods, bringing their finger to their lips in a ‘shushing’ gesture. Tommy laughs. He honestly can't remember the last time he’d had this much fun with another person. It had probably been at a party.

T------ was nervous. He had never been to a party. He wasn’t even sure how he managed to get in, he was barely a seventh grader. T------ was excited though, his eighth grade friend had told him it’d be fun. “Come on T------, don’t be a loser. This is a highschool party. Don’t ruin this for me,” his friend said. T------ really didn't want to upset him, so he stayed quiet. 

Once the two had finally made it to the liquor store, Tommy hid his empty bag in a bush. He knew he'd get stared at if he brought it inside. He debated leaving it with Ranboo, but he felt bad making them wait outside. “You ready?” he asked them. Ranboo nodded, he could tell they were nervous. The two walked into the store and Tommy immediately went over to where they kept their tequila. Ranboo lagged behind him, they were looking at the different kinds of alcohol. Tommy grabbed a bottle of Casamigos and made his way over to the counter. The transaction was quick, he paid in cash.

Once the two had left the store, Tommy noticed the tension leaving Ranboo. They were more anxious than Tommy thought. “See, that was easy,” Tommy teases. “Yeah, it really was,” they replied. Tommy makes his way to the bush and pulls his backpack out. He shoves the brand new bottle inside. “Why did you want to get alcohol anyways?” Ranboo asks. “Oh- I finished my other bottle last night. So I needed a new one,” he explains. “Oh,” they say. The two don’t say anything after that.

Tommy had decided that he didn’t want to go to Safeway anymore. So he just followed Ranboo to a nearby tree. They really seemed to like trees. Tommy sits down against the tree, patting the spot next to him. Ranboo got the hint and took a seat next to Tommy. Tommy unzipped his bag and pulled out the bottle. He wanted to drink a bit. He pulls the cork out and takes a sip. “How do you drink that like it’s nothing?” Ranboo asks. Tommy shrugs, “I dunno, I've been doing it for a while”. Tommy’s throat burns. “You want some?” he offers, holding the bottle up to them. “No thanks, I don't drink,” they say. It comes off as genuine; not in the judgey tone Tommy had grown accustomed too.

The two stay under the tree for a while. Tommy finds himself drinking much less than he would when he’s alone. He's pretty grateful for Ranboo’s company. They're pretty nice to be around if he’s being honest. That feeling of familiarity never leaves though. Tommy doesn’t mind it though. After a bit though, Ranboo has to leave. He finds himself missing them once they’re gone.

Chapter Text

Tommy gets up a little after Ranboo leaves. It felt awkward sitting alone under a tree, not that he cared what others thought of him. He didn’t care about anyone. Tommy decided to just walk home. There wasn’t much he could do outside anyways. It didn’t help that he had forgotten his cart at home.

The walk back was quiet. By this point, Tommy had gotten used to the feeling of being watched. He wasn’t sure why he had been feeling this way lately. He’d always been paranoid, but never to this degree. It doesn’t matter. 

Tommy walked up to his house, there was no car in the driveway. It had been the same as when he had left earlier. No one was ever home anymore. It was rare to see a car in the driveway past 5 in the morning. And the car wouldn’t return until late at night, sometimes not for days. Tommy didn’t care though.

The house felt cold as he stepped inside, it was always so fucking cold. Tommy ran upstairs and kicked his shoes off by his door. He immediately went over to retrieve his box, placing the new bottle in his backpack into the box. He looked over all the items inside. He still had that empty bottle in the box, he should probably throw it out soon. He also had his empty carts and cart boxes. He couldn’t bring himself to throw them out. He did throw out his old, empty nic’s though. And at the very bottom of the box was his razor blades. Tommy pulled out his cart.

Cracking open his window, Tommy began to smoke. He was already a little drunk, and no one was going to stop him from smoking anyways. He didn’t really care if he got caught. Phil already knew he smoked, what difference would it make if he walked in on him smoking. Maybe he’d care if it was Techno, probably not. 

If you asked T------ who his superhero was, he would probably say it’s his big brother, Techno. T------ thought that he was the coolest person in the world. He was older than him by a lot, he was in middle school. Techno was a strong guy, he could even pick up T------. But he wasn’t just strong, he was smart too. Sometimes, T------ wishes he could be as cool as his big brother.

Tommy wasn’t sure where these memories were coming from. Tommy knew his memory was shit, so why was he getting glimpses of the past now. It was weird. It felt like he had forgotten everything, and yet nothing at all. It was as if the memories were still there, he just couldn’t reach them. Tommy hit a blinker, he didn’t want to think anymore. 

As he sat there, blowing smoke out his window, Tommy couldn’t help but feel this crushing sadness. He wasn’t sure as to why, but the feeling would not go away. He had had moments like this in the past, it always ended the same way. Tommy closes his window and gets up from his bed. He pulls out the box from under his bed.

Tommy carefully took out a razor blade from his box. He didn’t bother putting his cart away. He kicked the box back under his bed and sat down on the floor. He looked at his arm, the band aids were still there from the other night. He didn’t bother peeling them off. Instead, he found an empty spot on his forearm and pressed the blade down. He went over the spot, back and forth. He felt a sharp little pain as he did it, back and forth. He didn’t stop though, he continued, even as blood began to pool out. He went over it again and again, back and forth. Once he felt done with that cut, he moved to a different spot. It was the same routine. He dragged the blade across his skin until he was bleeding out of various spots on his arm. There was always this rush he felt after cutting, it almost distracted him from the stinging in his arm, almost. 

This time, Tommy just let the blood flow out. He didn’t really feel like cleaning it up right now. He just wanted to wallow in his own misery for a bit. He put the blade back into the box. He pulled his cart out and just started smoking again. He didn’t bother opening the window this time though. He couldn’t care less if someone caught him. 

There was a silent knock on his door. Tommy barely registered as the door creaked open. Tommy knew he had hot-boxed his room. As his head lolls to the side, Tommy’s dilated eyes look up. Techno stood at his door. He sighs as he enters, shutting the door behind him. Tommy doesn’t say anything, he just takes another hit. Techno doesn’t say anything either, he just sits down next to him. “You really shouldn’t be smoking inside, I could smell it from across the hall” Techno says, breaking the silence. “Sorry,” Tommy doesn’t look at him.

Techno sighs again as he grabs Tommy’s arm. He’s much gentler than Phil had been the day before. Tommy knows he can see the cuts, he just can’t bring himself to care. “Why?” he asks. Tommy just shrugs. “Why are you here Techno?” Tommy asks. In all honesty, he didn’t really want to know. He was just high, he spoke without thinking. He did that a lot. “I’m on spring break,” Techno responds. Tommy hums in acknowledgement. Techno was in college, Tommy had forgotten. There were days when Tommy had forgotten about his family entirely. “You should clean those up, they could get infected,” Techno suggests. Tommy shrugs again. Techno gets up and leaves his room. Tommy hopes he doesn’t come back.

Techno does return shortly after. This time carrying a wet paper towel and a box of band aids. Tommy doesn’t say anything. He just allows Techno to clean his wounds. “You don’t have to do this y’know,” he says as he wipes off some of the dried blood. “I know,” Tommy replies. He feels a bit awkward as Techno gently places a few band aids on his arm. Despite everything, Tommy doesn’t hate Techno, not even a little. 

Chapter Text

Somehow, Tommy woke up in his bed. He doesn’t remember much from last night. He sits up on his bed. He glances at his arm, which is all patched up. He then remembers that Techno had caught him smoking the night before. He looks around for his cart, Techno wouldn’t have taken it, right? He finds it on the floor beside his bed. Next to it is a note. He reaches over and grabs both of the items. He checks the amount of wax left in the cart. There’s still a ton left, thank god. Tommy then reads the note,

‘Sorry for leaving so suddenly. If you don’t remember, you threw up on the floor and passed out. Don’t worry, I cleaned it up. Left your vape by this note, it should be there if Dad didn’t find it. - Techno’

Tommy does not remember greening out. It’s not the first time he’s greened out, it just sucks that out of all people, it was Techno who found him. At the very least he still has his cart. It’s probably one of the only things keeping him sane. 

In all honesty, Tommy’s surprised he managed to vomit at all. He hasn’t eaten much. He wonders how he managed to throw up anything that wasn't just stomach acid. Tommy hits his cart once more before getting up. It helped give him a little energy. Maybe he was too dependent on it . He slips the cart into his pocket.

He's not really sure what to do today. Most days, he just stays at home. But he kind of felt like looking for Ranboo. Seeing them made his day, in a way. There was something so comforting about being in their presence. He couldn't explain it. Ranboo just radiated a safe energy. With that in mind, Tommy decides that he will attempt to find them. He slips his shoes on and grabs his essentials before rushing out of the house.

It's windy today, he forgot his sweater at home. He's wearing sweatpants he fell asleep in and a plain t-shirt. It may not be the pinnacle of fashion, but he didn’t care. As he walks down the sidewalk, he just feels paranoid. It's getting real repetitive. He wishes that he didn't feel constant eyes on him all the time. It's not like people were looking at him, it just felt like they were. Or maybe it wasn't people he felt. It could be some divine being watching over him, feeling nothing but shame as he wastes his life away. 

Tommy walks to the nearby park. There, Ranboo is sitting under a tree, per usual. They notice him approaching and wave at him. He waves back. “Hey dude, under a tree I see,” Tommy teases. He does wonder why they're always by trees. “Hello Tommy,” they respond. “So what’s the deal with you and trees anyways huh?” He asks them. Ranboo sighs, “I just like the shade and stuff I guess”. Tommy ponders that response, it's strange; “You guess?”. “Yup,” they say, sticking out a thumbs up. Tommy laughs, he feels at ease when they're around.

“So Ranboo,” Tommy pauses, “How’s life treating you?”. Tommy takes his cart out of his pocket and takes a hit from it after asking. He really has a problem. “Oh y’know, it's been fine I guess,” they say. It's almost like they're trying to avoid the question. Tommy decides to push it; “Nothing interesting? Like at all?”. They stare at him for a moment. Probably pondering his question. “Nope,” they say after a bit of silence. He gives up after that.

The two end up in a comfortable silence after this. Tommy just smokes as Ranboo watches. The park was practically empty, since it was the middle of the day. He's pretty sure it's a Friday. So most kids are at school. It's strange that Ranboo doesn't go to school, but he really can't judge. Maybe they dropped out.

“What’s it like?” Ranboo asks. Tommy blows smoke; “What?” he asks. “What’s it feel like to smoke?” they ask again. Tommy thinks for a bit. He isn't really sure how to describe it. “Well, it's kind of like inhaling air, it just tastes a bit weird,” he says. “It doesn't sound all that fun,” They respond. Tommy laughs, “The high after really is not worth getting addicted to”. “So,” they pause, “Why do you do it?” they ask. Tommy shrugs; “It’s a little late for me to quit now”. Ranboo sighs, “I guess that makes sense”. Tommy throws his hands up; “I mean, being addicted to smoking is better than alcohol”. Ranboo gives him a look; “You literally also drink-”. They get cut off, “Shut up Ranboob,” Tommy replies, flicking their forehead. “Ow,” Ranboo says, rubbing the spot he'd flicked them. 

The two bicker for a bit after the fact. It’s nice. It’s something Tommy hasn’t had in a while, a friend. Tommy’s glad to have met them, despite all their weirdness. It’s not like he doesn’t have a closet full of skeletons as well. It’s really nice to not feel the need to talk about serious stuff. 

After hanging out with Ranboo for a while, Tommy decided to walk home. Ranboo wanted to walk with him. Tommy declined though, he didn’t want to risk Techno, or even Phil, seeing them. So he said his goodbyes and left.

It was even colder now than it was when he first walked to the park. Tommy was seriously regretting leaving his sweater. He looks up at the sky, its sunset. He doesn’t know how long he spent with Ranboo, but it must have been a while.

When Tommy reaches his house, there is a car in the driveway. Fuck. He really doesn’t want to see any of his family right now. It’d just be awkward. He debates turning around and walking back to the park. But he’s already here. He’d have to face his family regardless. Besides, if they ask, he can just say he was at school or something. Tommy slowly unlocks the door.

Chapter Text

The second Tommy opens the door he’s greeted by an angry looking Phil. “Where have you been?” he asks, dragging Tommy inside by the arm. He always felt the need to drag Tommy around, it was exhausting. 

Tommy tries to think of something to tell him, but he decides to just lie. “I was at school?” his words don’t sound confident, he fidgets with his hands. “Don’t lie to me T------, I know you weren’t at school. Where were you?” Phil demands again. It’s getting repetitive. 

Tommy pushes past him and heads to his room. Phil is yelling at him, but he can’t bring himself to pay attention. None of it fucking matters anyways. Phil will always be mad, and he’ll always be the reason.

This time, Phil doesn’t follow him into his room. Tommy’s grateful for that. However, he does stand outside his door, banging at his door, screaming for him to open up. Tommy doesn’t even know why he’s mad in the first place. Tommy came home at a reasonable time, before dark, so Phil shouldn’t be mad. He shouldn’t even be home anyways, he’s always working. 

After five minutes of Phil bothering him, he stops. Before he leaves, he slips an envelope under his door. Tommy doesn’t get up from his bed at first. In fact he hadn’t even noticed the envelope. He just wanted to sleep, but sleep wouldn’t take him. So he got up, a bit dizzy still, and picked up the envelope. 

It’s addressed to Phil and it’s from the school, great. Tommy can already guess what it’s about. The envelope is already open, so he just pulls the letter out. Of course, it’s about his attendance. 

The letter talks about how he’s been to school once this entire month, and he only stayed for one period. Tommy doesn’t even remember going. That’s about all he read, he didn’t feel like seeing what other shit they said about him. 

Tommy doesn’t have much to do. He can’t sleep, and yet he doesn’t feel like smoking. He’s just bored. Tommy thinks about running away a lot. It’s a stupid fantasy to have. It’s just the thought of skipping town, being free. It seems nice. Tommy doesn’t really have much of a presence here. He doesn’t even know his name.

He used to imagine running alone, just himself and the clothes on his back. Now however, this fantasy has changed. If he ran away, maybe he’d ask Ranboo to join him. He’d never say it out loud, but they’re probably his only friend. 

Tommy stares out his window, the moon is out and the stars glow. He thinks about climbing out his window. Being in the room feels almost claustrophobic. It’d be nice to go outside, maybe climb a tree. Tommy opens the window.

He’s not sure what possessed him to climb down from his window, probably the cart, but he regrets it. The house itself isn’t very tall, despite Tommy’s room being on the second floor. What is tall is the roof. Tommy doesn’t really know why. But, because his room isn’t too far from the ground, he just jumped out.

Tommy lands on his hands and knees. He looks at his now dirty palms, they’re all scratched up now. He assumes his knees are the same, as he feels a sting there too. Despite this, he begins to walk.

He walks in the opposite direction of the park he meets Ranboo at. He wanted to go somewhere different. He walks down the sidewalk, looking at every house he passes. Once he’s far away enough, he pulls his cart out. He checks the amount of wax left before hitting it. 

Tommy walks in one direction for a while. Walking in the same direction makes it easier to get back to the house. Tommy goes to grab his phone before realizing he forgot it on his bed. Oh well. He didn’t need to know the time that bad anyways.

After about an hour of walking, Tommy ends up in a park. Not your usual playground though, more like a forest. This entire time he’s had one goal in mind, climb a tree. So, in the dark of the night, Tommy looks for a nice tree he can climb. It doesn’t take very long.

Tommy stumbles across a tree with a thick enough branch for him to sit. The tree isn’t very tall, maybe a couple of feet. The branch he wants to sit on is a bit high up, but what’s the fun in climbing a tree without a little bit of a challenge. 

He grabs at one of the lower branches and pulls himself up. He repeats this until he’s reached the branch. He holds onto the main part of the tree as he sits down. The breeze feels nice up there. It’s still cold, but he feels almost numb to it, almost. Tommy just sits there and looks at the view. It’s much easier to see the sky in the trees. 

Tommy knows he can’t stay in the tree forever, but he really wants to . He slowly begins to make his way down. This process is a lot harder than getting up the tree. He debates just jumping off from the branch, but he doesn’t. Instead he hugs the base of the tree and carefully steps onto smaller branches. 

Tommy had overestimated the strength of these smaller branches, as one snaps under weight and he falls. It wasn’t a very high drop, but it still hurt. Tommy landed on his back. He quickly got up and tried to check if he was hurt anywhere. This proved to be difficult seeing as he was high. He honestly couldn't really feel the pain. He knew it was there, it was just hard to focus on.

Tommy doesn't dwell on the injuries for very long. He begins to walk back to the house. It’s cold, and he can hardly see what’s ahead of him. His mind feels disconnected from his body. Nothing really felt real. With each step he took, it felt as if the world shook at his pace. 

Once Tommy had made it back to his house, he realized that he had no way of getting back in. He could try to climb up to his room, but he didn’t have a ladder or anything. He looked up to where his room was, he had left the window wide open. 

He thought about scaling up the side of his house, trying to get in through the window. And at first he decided against it. But after trying the front door, and the back door, he knew it was his only shot in getting in.

Tommy grabbed at a loose brick and tried to pull himself up. He wasn’t all that strong, and the palms of his hands still hurt. His arms were also weak in general, that was his fault though. He stood on a windowsill that was close to the ground, attempting to get on top of the window. Tommy was by no means short, he stood a little over six feet, it wasn’t too hard to reach his window. The problem was hoisting himself up into his room.

After a lot of struggling, he made it inside his room. Looking round, nothing had been moved. It looked exactly the same as when he left. His phone was still on his bed. He quickly grabbed it and checked the time, 3:28 am. He didn’t know when he had left, but it had been at least a couple hours since then. He could hardly feel his body anymore. He was so tired.

Chapter Text

Tommy had been feeling incredibly tired of rotting at home all the time. The house felt empty, with no one living in it. Could he even consider himself living? Tommy hasn’t moved from where he had fallen asleep the night before. What time is it?

It takes Tommy a total of 8 minutes to move from where he had been laying down. He sits up and looks for his phone. He finds it squished between the crack of the wall and his bed. He pulls it out and checks the time, 6:07 am. 

He looks around his dark room, a bit of sunlight peeking out from behind the curtains illuminating it just enough to be able to see. His room is a mess. Tommy puts his head in his hands and just sits there. He’s so tired.

After about an hour, he decides to leave his room. He slowly makes his way to the kitchen, his head hurts. He glances at the walls of the house, there's a family photo from a few years ago. Phil had forced the 4 of them to take a family Christmas photo.

That’s besides the point. It’s all in the past now. Tommy would say that it’s now only the three of them, but it’s really just him. It wasn’t fair to him. Every time he passes by the photo he’s filled with resent. He wants to go back.

All he wanted was for life to get better. Recently, he’s been thinking more about running away. Just packing up his backpack and leaving. He would just be away from this place, from his ‘family’. 

He paces around his room. He is so incredibly bored. There’s never anything to do in this fucking place. He looks under his bed and pulls out the shoebox. He immediately goes for the alcohol.

He quickly grabs his bottle and takes a swig. He’s been thinking about getting a shot glass or something. It’d make things easier. He loves the feeling of it burning his throat, and the numbness he feels on his teeth. He wouldn’t give it up for anything. It was familiar.

“T------! There you are, come take shots with us,” his friend asked. T------ had been dragged into a high school party. He was only in middle school. It was really exciting. “Of course man,” he replies as he walks over to his friend. His friend hands him a shot glass and fills up with alcohol. T------ had never taken a shot before.

Tommy kept on drinking. He was having a good time. The world was spinning, but he didn’t care. Everything was slower. But his body felt like it was moving faster.

He doesn’t know how long he spent drinking, but the bottle was nearly empty now. He sets it aside and starts to sob. He felt awful. He wanted to die. He should just die. Who would even care.

Tommy reaches into the shoebox that had been sitting next to him on the floor. He takes out the blade, nicking his finger in the process. He didn’t care. He presses the blade down firmly on his forearm and drags it. The blood starts to pool around the blade, but he keeps going.

He moves onto the next spot, presses it down, and drags it. Again, and again, and again. It’s addicting. He watches as blood drips down his arm and onto the floor. He doesn’t care. No one would even notice it.

No matter how many times the blade is dragged, and the blood is there, he can’t stop feeling like he wants to die. It’s all he wants. He was so tired. Why should he have to be stuck here, in a house where no one cares. He wished Phil was more present in his life. It didn’t matter if it was just to yell at him, he just wanted his Dad. When did Phil become Phil, and not Dad? He wanted his Dad. He missed Techno too. Even if Techno was friendly to him now, it was different. He wanted his brother back.

It wasn’t fair to him. None of this was fair. Why does he have to be here, cutting, alone, scared. He wanted a hug, he wanted a handshake, he wanted anything. He just didn’t want to feel alone. But he was alone. 

He sets the blade down for a moment. He stares at the crime scene left on his arm. It wasn’t enough. Just cutting on his arm wasn’t enough. He rolls his pants down and stares at the faint scars on his thighs. He doesn’t remember the last time he had cut there. He presses the blade down, not as firm as he would on his arm, and slowly drags it. 

His arm had become practically numb to the feeling of the blade. He had done it so often these days. His thigh wasn’t used to it though. It hurt so much more than his arm. He loved it. He pressed down and time after time he just kept moving the blade back and forth. It was amazing. He moved to his other thigh, repeating the same. He kept going between both his thighs. More blood spilled onto the floor. He couldn’t care less.

He doesn’t remember passing out on his bed. He doesn’t remember anything past slitting his thighs open. He’s not sure if somebody found him, or if he just put himself to bed. He’s just so tired. He knows he should clean the cuts, but he just doesn't care anymore. No one will notice, no one will care. It’s not like he really matters anyways. Not to Phil, not to Techno, not to anybody.

Tommy thinks back to Ranboo. Maybe they would care. He’s not sure, but maybe it’s worth a shot. Tommy opens his curtains, slips his window open, and just jumps out. He doesn’t know if Ranboo will even be awake right now. But somehow they’re always by that same tree when he needs them. He dusts off his pants, he doesn’t remember putting them on, and walks towards the park.