Chapter Text
Tommy thought he was an ordinary 14-year-old boy that lived with his step father. That was until his wings sprouted, big, jittery, golden wings. He knew his father had a strong disliking for mutants and those gifted with powers, that's probably how he got to where he is today. Running, like his life depended on it, probably because it did.
Tommy was out of breath, that was clear. He couldn't run forever but with his father hot on his heels and a group of barbaric-looking lackeys following suit it was clear that he had no time to rest. He could fly but his wings were folded messily against his back, and he’d never learned how to. Normally a young avian would be taught by their parents how to fly as soon as their wings developed, but as soon as Tommy's father found out about his he’d threatened to tear them off, therefore Tommy ran.
Two years later Tommy had gotten a stable job at a cafe named, The Sheep Shack ran by a lovely woman named Puffy who like the name suggested, was a sheep. Puffy had taken Tommy in off the streets and had given him a job and a temporary home, Tommy Of course spent most of his time at the cafe, either working or cleaning after the shop had shut. He barely left. Sometimes sleeping in the back room on a pile of empty boxes his co-worker, foolish, dubbed the raccoon den.
Tommy hid his wings; he’d mostly used packaging tape he’d find in the storage room to keep them under his shirt without them rustling about too much. Sure, it hurt like a bitch and hurt his back. But it did the job. Only puffy knew about his wings but never asked about why he hid them.
About 3 months after puffy had found him he'd met Tubbo, a goat who he’d met after he was rudely assaulted by a fussy customer who’d complained that Tommy wrote her name on the cup wrong on purpose. Tommy, suffering from multiple sleepless nights and a sugar crash obviously didn’t mean to. After a few weeks Tubbo had offered Tommy a place to stay and he quickly obliged, needing a place to stay.
Tubbo had quickly found out about his wings, he’d completely forgotten about them, the years of abuse and neglect caused them to go numb. He'd walked out of their bedroom a vest put lazily on. Tubbo just stared, Tommy looked behind him then back at Tubbo. “Are you okay mate? You look like you’ve seen a ghost?” He said, walking toward the frozen boy. Tubbo pointed a finger weakly and Tommy looked down at himself before patting his face, “What? Is there something on my face?” Tubbo let out a shaky breath "Wings... You have wings." He finally said, it wasn't a question it was a statement, Tommy's breath hitched in his throat, feeling came back to the limp appendages for a second as he remembered their existence. they poked out of his top at odd angles, looking almost broken, their once glossy golden feathers were more like a dull greyish yellow now and he had patches that we ripped out due to the tape. They were a mess to say the least. they looked nothing like a healthy avian's should.