Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Tommy jolts awake, gasping for breath, a hand clawing at his shirt as he sits up, blinking away the blurriness in his eyes frantically.

Tears stream down his face as he takes in heaving breaths of air, scrambling backwards until his back hits a wall. He cries out in panic, whipping around to stare at the brick wall behind him with wide terrified eyes. Whimpers fall from his lips as terror and fear fills his mind, his hand pressed against his chest to feel how fast his heart was beating.

After a moment he realizes with sinking dread that he doesn't feel his heartbeat. His chest is silent, and no matter what pulse point Tommy tries he can’t feel anything that would indicate that he has a beating heart.

Tommy— Tommy shouldn't be alive right now.

He hunches in on himself as a sudden coldness seeps into his bones, his chest heaving with the effort of taking in air as he hyperventilates, yet he doesn't feel light headed at all.

His heart isn’t pounding, and he can’t feel anything but the cold, as it settles deep within his bones, his chest, right besides his unbeating heart.

Tommy doesn’t know what's going on.

In his panic he checks for the stab wound in his stomach, and he finds nothing but an old scar seemingly healed already, all that was left was just a thin scar. His shirt is still ripped and bloodied, though the blood is long dried by now, a rusty orange color.

He can see the sky brightening up from his spot in the alley, the pale blues slowly morphing into pinks and yellows.

His eyes feel sharper, the darkness that had consumed him no longer feeling as constricting. His ears pick up on the cars driving past, the sound of people walking, talking, just around the bend of the alley.

“Oh my,” Comes a sudden new voice, making Tommy flinch so hard he nearly smacks his head on the wall behind him. He scrambles away from the person, his blue eyes snapping up to a tall woman in all black who stands in front of his trembling form.

“You poor thing,” She says, her brown eyes full of sympathy, “You’re just a kid,” She breathes out, the slightest twinge to her brow, as she tilts her head, as if she was studying him. Tommy shrinks under her intense gaze, feeling a strange calm settle over him.

“Who— who are you?” He rasps out, cringing at how bad his voice sounds, licking his dry cracked lips.

The woman smiles warmly, leaning forwards slightly, her black hair falling in front of her face. She wears a big black hat that shadows part of her face, and her skin is pale, the palest he’s ever seen before. She wears black robes, with a dull red heart on her chest, the symbol had sharp lines, nothing like Tommy had ever seen before.

“I am Lady Death,” She introduces herself with a small smile, “But you can call me Kristin, dear.” She says kindly, her smile never wavering, “And you are?” She prompts softly, and Tommy swallows, his brain taking a moment to process her question.

“Um— I’m Tommy,” He mumbles in a quiet voice, “Nice to meet you,” He says, but it sounds more like a question when he says it out loud.

Kristin just smiles though, looking up at him with kind eyes.

“Nice to meet you too,” She says, before pausing, “Do you know what happened, Tommy?” She asks in a gentle voice, and Tommy freezes, his hand pressing against his stomach where a wound should be but there isn’t—

“I died,” He states, more bluntly than he intended, and Kristin nods, kneeling down in front of him.

She sighs, glancing away for a moment, as if this was difficult for her, before peering back at him with gentle eyes.

“You did,” She agrees softly.

“I’m dead.” Tommy says, horror filling his voice as he tugs at the hair on his head, trying to ground himself because there was no way he could just die—

“Tommy,” Kristin says, gently grabbing his hands, pulling them away from his hair. She holds them in hers, gently rubbing her thumb on his palm, giving Tommy something to focus on besides the panic in his head.

“You aren’t dead,” She says, her brown eyes meeting his, “You were given a second chance.” She breathes out with a smile. Tommy can’t find any hint of deception or malice within her eyes or voice, nothing that gives away that she isn’t telling the truth.

“I— what?” Tommy asks, his eyes wide as he slowly blinks, “I… I should be dead.”

“Yes, but the universe has another fate for you,” Kristin says, “No matter how cruel it may be, the universe is always correct. And it chose you, Tommy, to become one of our Reapers, our son.” She squeezes his hands gently.

“Being chosen as a Reaper is a great honor, bestowed upon only the most worthy of people. You have become one of our children, ours to look after, to guide,” She says in a soft voice, “One of our children to help aid us in the battle of life and death, to retrieve wayward souls, and restore balance to the waking world.”

Tommy just stares at her dumbly, not taking in a single word she just said. Something about children, and Reapers, and life and death and god— can he just lay down? He wants to go home and take a very long nap and pretend this was all some bad dream.

“What?” Is all he manages, his mind not able to wrap around anything she’s spewing out. He knows it must be important, and that he should listen, but fuck, he just died! He still isn't over that.

Kristin just smiles kindly, reaching out and cupping his cheek with her hand.

“It's alright,” She says, “There are others around you who can help you,” She hums, before sighing, “But there is something you must know, Tommy, and you need to listen closely.”

Tommy blinks at that, inhaling sharply, his blue eyes set on the woman in front of him.

“You are a Reaper now,” She begins slowly, “You work for me and Death, my husband… he is a very busy man, and so am I, so I must warn you about getting on his bad side.” She says with a small frown.

“You will have to bring souls to me and Death, and you cannot refuse to do so,” She says gently, “If you don’t listen to us then Death will have to get involved, and you do not want him to keep an eye on you.” She warns.

“Death is not a forgiving man,” She sighs, gently rubbing her thumb along his cheek, “He has little patience.”

“W— what?” Tommy stutters out, “Death— who the fuck is Death? And why do I need to stay on his good side? What the fuck— I can’t, this is too much.”

Kristin just smiles, shaking her head.

“Death is my husband,” She says, “We share the responsibility of bringing souls to the afterlife. It is not an easy job.”

Tommy swallows nervously, nodding his head.

“And— and if I get on his bad side? What happens then? He’s gonna come and fucking, I don’t know, kill me again?” He asks, his voice wavering on his words.

“It would be something like that,” She says, “If you do your job then you will have nothing to worry about. Some Reapers never even meet him, knowing Death, he prefers that.”

“Okay,” Tommy says, his voice shaking, “Okay— what job?” He asks, confusion settling within him, the panic over dying slowly fading away into the background.

“You have to deliver souls to us,” She begins, “They could be lost souls, souls who got stuck in the waking world, or living people whose time to live is up,” She explains gently, “Sometimes people cheat death, and we cannot allow that.”

Tommy’s eyes go wide as he mulls over her words.

“You want me to kill people?” He exclaims, pushing her away from him, “What— there's no way, I can’t kill people!”

“Tommy,” Kristin says, trying to get his attention, “They were destined to die, but somehow survived, they cannot be left to walk the earth—“

“Why do you care? If they lived after this— this horrible event that should have killed them why kill them?” Tommy says, shaking his head, panic crawling its way back in. His chest heaves for breath as he takes in short breaths, losing the calm he had.

“Thats— thats so fucked up! I can’t do that, theres no way… you’re fucking crazy! All of this is crazy!” Tommy says, his hands back in his hair as he ignores Kristins attempts to talk to him.

“Tommy—“

“No! Leave me alone!” Tommy shouts at her, pressing his back against the wall, his eyes fogging up with tears, “This— this can’t be real, this all must be some cruel joke! There’s no way,” He laughs, dragging a hand through his hair, uncaring of how hard he tugs on his hair.

“Heed my warnings, Tommy,” Kristin says as she stands back up, dusting off her black robes, “I will be in contact with you soon. Go home, kid.” She says, and then she's gone into the shadows, leaving Tommy all alone.

Tommy’s shaky blue eyes dart around the alley, making sure she was actually gone and wasn’t playing tricks on him, as the sun starts to travel further up into the sky, chasing a way the lingering shadows.

She was gone.

~~~~

Tommy stumbles his way back to his apartment, earning him many strange looks from people he passes by on the streets.

When he gets back to his building he walks right past the small lobby area and to the elevator. Thankfully no one was inside when it opened up, and Tommy was able to peacefully ride up four floors to the floor his room was on.

He leans against the wall, a hand pressed against his stomach at where his wound should be, but it isn’t— it’s gone. His brain is still having a hard time processing this.

The elevator dings as it slowly comes to a stop, the doors opening up. Tommy pushes off the wall with a grunt, stumbling his way out, trying to be as quiet as possible but fuck, all he wants to do right now is pass the fuck out.

Tommy makes his way to his door, stopping right in front of it. He pats his pockets down for his keys, his movements slow, waiting to hear the familiar jingle his keys always make. But he finds all his pockets empty, including his wallet and phone, all gone.

“Fuck,” He mutters under his breath, not only was he killed but he was also fucking robbed. He was not having a good day.

Before he even has a chance to knock the door is swinging open and he’s met face to face with Wilbur.

Except he doesn't look like the Wilbur Tommy remembered him as.

“Tommy?” Wilbur asks, and his eyes go wide, before he drags him inside, shutting the door behind them. Wilbur never lets go of him as Tommy basically leans all of his weight against the man, soaking up his comfort.

“Wil,” Tommy whines, letting him sit him down on the couch, his cold hands grasping his face as he sits beside him. Tommy meets his watery eyes and he notes they aren’t completely brown anymore. There’s a hint of red in them, swirling within his dark eyes, something that had never been there before.

Wilbur’s also got a white strand in his curly brown hair, and his skin is a sickly pale, just like Kristin’s was. Even his teeth appear sharper, his face more hollow looking, nothing like how Wilbur looked yesterday.

“Are you sick?” He asks, reaching out a hand to rest against Wilbur’s forehead, though he feels nothing but cold, “You’re freezin’, man, that's not normal.”

Wilbur just lets out a small, horrified laugh, his eyes swelling up with tears.

“Oh my gods, Toms.” Wilbur says, grasping onto his hand, “You— who did this to you? Who killed you?” He asks, his hands shaking now as he stares at him, as if he wasn’t real.

Tommy’s not sure what's got Wilbur so freaked out— he’s more worried about why WIlbur suddenly looks different.

“Wilbur? Tommy?” Techno calls as he rounds a corner, and as Tommy looks at him, he notices that even he looks different.

He’s still got his pink hair, but white strands accompany it like Wilbur’s, and his eyes are blood red, nothing like the brown shade they used to be. His teeth are pointed, sharper, and he looks bigger, taller than what he had been just yesterday.

“Tech— Techno?” Tommy chokes out, his eyes going wide in surprise as he stares at him, a confused look crossing his face, “What— what the fuck happened to you two?”

Techno is at his side in an instant, giving Wilbur a horrified look as he plants his hands on Tommy’s shoulder, his red eyes swirling with different emotions as he peers into his eyes.

“Wilbur,” Techno begins slowly, eyeing his brother as he has a silent panic attack, “Why don’t you go start a shower for Tommy? Pick out some new clothes for him, too. I'm sure he’s exhausted.” Techno says, his eyes glancing over at Wilbur.

Wilbur just stares at Tommy, his eyes wide, his grip on him unrelenting, though Tommy doesn't want him to let go. He looks like he just saw the most horrible thing in the world, his throat choked up as tears spill down his face.

“Techno—“ Wilbur sobs out, cupping Tommy’s face with one hand, “He— he died, someone killed our Tommy, our world,” He sputters out, his grip on him tightening even more. Tommy just owlishly blinks at Wilbur.

“Wil?” Tommy asks softly, concern filling him when Wilbur doesn’t respond, “Wilbur? Hello? Earth to Wilbur?” Tommy says, lightly slapping his face as panic starts to run through his system again.

Wilbur breaks out of whatever weird trance-like state he had been in, sucking in a sharp breath as his eyes flicker over him.

“I— I’ll go get a shower started.” Wilbur says, letting go of Tommy after a moment, before standing up and walking away, though he glances back at him all the way to the hallway.

Techno and Tommy watch him go before Techno sighs, turning his full attention on Tommy.

“Tommy—“

“What the fuck is going on?” Tommy interrupts, gripping onto Techno’s arm, staring at the red eyes in front of him, “You— you both are different. Why do you look different?” He asks, his voice sounding strained, mania tugging at his mind.

Techno slowly blinks at him, his red eyes swirling before he seems to settle on a conclusion.

“You died, Tommy.” He begins, “We… we weren’t there to protect you. We failed you.” His words are like blades, slicing through him as he shakes his head, tears welling up in his eyes as his hands tug at his hair again.

“No, no no no— I can’t be dead if I’m still here!” He exclaims, a panicked laugh bubbling out of his chest, “Do you know how crazy this all is? I'm not dead, I didn’t die— I’m still alive!” He stresses, desperately meeting Techno’s eyes, willing him to understand what he was saying.

But Techno just has a sad look on his face, his eyes crestfallen, his normally stony look crumbling away.

It makes Tommy falter at the amount of emotion Techno was showing. Techno was never an emotional guy, barely cracking smiles or even laughing, but he had his moments when he would hold Tommy close and whisper in his hair that everything would be okay.

“Tommy,” Techno says, his monotone voice shifting, as he reaches out with one of his big hands and gently tugs away at the hand in his hair, “Hey, kid, look at me.” He says softly, and Tommy sniffles, his eyes getting blurry as he meets Techno’s.

“You’re okay,” He promises, “I’m sorry, I'm so sorry,” Techno says, his voice wavering, and Tommy can’t stop himself from breaking.

An ugly sob rips its way out of his chest as he leans forwards into Techno’s arms, tears streaming down his face as he hiccups, heaving in breath.

Techno wraps his arms around him, slowly rocking the two of them back and forth, mumbling reassurances into his hair, rubbing circles on his back. It takes a while for Tommy to calm down, as he holds onto Techno for dear life, trembling in his arms.

“You’re a Reaper, just like me and Wilbur,” Techno says, his voice quiet, “You work for Death now. You— you were chosen to become a Reaper… Some call it an honor, and others call it a curse. Only you can decide if this a blessing or not.”

Tommy just shakes his head, willing Techno to just stop talking.

“No— no, m’ not a Reaper, I’m not anything! I'm just Tommy. Tommy,” He says, his voice wavering, “I don’t want this.” He breathes out, and Techno tightens his hold on him, burying his face in his hair. Techno takes in a deep breath before sighing.

“I know,” He says, “You’re Tommy. My Tommy.”

Tommy sniffles at that, clutching onto Techno, only opening his eyes to peer at Wilbur as he enters the living room again.

“The uh— the shower is warm,” He says in a small voice, and Techno nods, slowly shifting Tommy so he can meet his eyes.

“Come on, runt, let's get you cleaned up,” Techno says softly, standing up and dragging Tommy with him.

Tommy clings onto Techno, using him to support most of his weight. His limbs feel like lead, and the thought of moving makes him tremble, his muscles feeling weak and exhaustion settling heavily within his body.

Techno doesn't seem to mind, wrapping his arm around his waist, his other arm held in Tommy's grasp, his nails digging into his skin.

Wilbur follows behind the two, his eyes never leaving Tommy, as they make it to the bathroom where Techno sets him down on the toilet, his red eyes flickering over to Wilbur.

Tear tracks stain Wilbur’s face, and his eyes look stormy, swirling with different emotions, though he seems more composed then he had earlier.

Techno kneels in front of him, meeting his gaze. Tommy still holds onto one of his arms for support, his eyelids getting heavier by the moment.

“Where did you get hurt?” He asks softly, and Tommy hums, pressing a hand to his stomach as if he was reminded of his deadly wound bleeding out again.

Techno has to pry his hand off his stomach, the old dried blood stains standing out as he lifts up his shirt, his eyes landing on the thin scar where his wound used to be.

“That's a Reaper's blade—“ Wilbur states, leaning in closer to get a better look, “He was killed by a Reaper.” He says, his tone flat and cold, anger and betrayal swirling up in his eyes.

Techno’s face goes cold, his red eyes alight with anger as he stares at the wound, reaching out with a finger to trace it.

Tommy shivers at his touch, whining— he just wants to sleep.

“Shh, it's okay Tommy,” Wilbur says, all of them ignoring the slight crack in his voice as he rests a hand on his head, gently combing through his curls, “Let us help you, sunshine,” He coos softly, his brown eyes never leaving the scar on his stomach.

Tommy leans into his touch, closing his eyes in contentment. If he was a cat he would be purring by now.

Techno manages to get his bloodied jacket off, and then his ruined shirt, the man ending up just ripping it apart.

Tommy blinks open his eyes to see all the blood coated onto his skin, dried and cracked, some of it flaking off onto the ground. It wasn’t a pretty sight and made him gag slightly as his eyes trail back down to the scar on his stomach, memories flashing back of blood pouring out from it.

The two get him into the shower, leaving him to scrub at the blood and clean his hair.

Tommy just sits in the warmth of the water, letting it run down his skin, washing away the grime and blood that coats his skin.

It isn’t until Techno knocks on the door to ask how he is doing that he starts to scrub off the blood with a towel and soap, watching as the water turns red and rinses down the drain.

With shaky arms he shampoos his hair, lazily lathering in conditioner before he sinks down further in the tub, closing his eyes.

He was dead.

The realization hits him like a truck, makes his chest squeeze, his throat tighten up. There was no way he could have just… died like that. The great Tommy Innit, biggest man alive, dead from a stab wound in the stomach.

It didn’t sit right with him.

And now apparently he was a Reaper, and so were Techno and Wilbur.

He leaves that for future Tommy to unpack.

Eventually he heaves himself up, washing out the conditioner in his hair and turning off the water, taking a moment to just sit and let the water drip off of him.

He drags himself out of the tub, drying off with a towel and getting dressed in the new clothes Wilbur had brought him. He puts them on slowly, his limbs feeling like they were stuck in honey, his world slow, lethargic.

When he glances in the mirror he pauses, his eyes going wide at the sight that stares back at him.

His blonde hair is incredibly pale, nearing white, along with a similar white streak in his curls just like Wilbur’s. His blue eyes are vibrant, practically glowing with the intensity, and his skin is a pale, sickly shade.

His face is sharper, looks hollower, and when he opens his mouth he finds his teeth are pointier, just like his brothers are. He doesn’t recognize the person in the mirror.

He can’t bear to look at himself for long, tearing his eyes away from his reflection. By the time he’s done he’s shaking from the effort spent, opening the door handle with trembling hands.

Techno waits outside of it, leaning against the wall, while Wilbur paces in front of him, muttering things under his breath as he went.

The moment he’s out Techno grabs onto him, steadying him, his red eyes looking him over.

Wilbur is by his side immediately, grabbing onto his face as he meets his gaze.

“Oh, Tommy dear, let us get you to bed, come on,” Wilbur urges, and Tommy complies, letting the two lead him to Wilbur’s room.

He doesn't even question it as Wilbur gently pushes him down, with Tommy practically collapsing into his soft sheets and blankets. Wilbur nudges him under the covers, before climbing in with him, pulling Tommy up to his chest and wrapping him up in his arms, tucking his head under his chin.

“You got him, Wil?” Techno asks from above them, and Wilbur hums, running a hand through his hair. Tommy is already slipping away into unconsciousness, completely limp in Wilbur’s hold, allowing the man to do whatever he wants.

“Yes, Techno,” Wilbur says softly, “I need you to stay in tonight.”

“Of course,” Techno says, his red eyes meeting Wilburs, “I'm not going anywhere anytime soon.”

“Good,” Wilbur hums, looking down at Tommy as he falls into sleep, “We cannot let our dad anywhere near him.”

“Agreed.”

“The Reaper that killed him will pay,” Wilbur continues on, running his hand through his wet curls, “He will die to our hands,” He says darkly, his words condemning, a promise he intends to keep.

“It was dad that sent him after Tommy,” Techno says, “Tommy was never marked for death.”

“Oh, I know.” Wilbur says, his grip on him tightening, “What a cruel twist of fate that Tommy ended up being picked to become one of his Reapers, huh? Phil will fucking pay for this,” Wilbur promises, and Techno just gives him a look.

“And how do you intend on making that happen?” Techno asks, “Phil is Death, when he finds out about this he’ll just kill him again, and there's no coming back after that.”

“He can’t find out,” Wilbur snaps, shaking his head, “This is our second chance— Techno, don’t you realize how lucky we are? Truly, the odds of this happening were almost fucking zero— but Tommy will be with us forever now.”

“I know.”

“Phil will pay,” Wilbur says, “He must have been spying on us, realizing we were spending more time with a human boy then him, the possessive bastard,” Wilbur spits out, his anger rising in his chest, “What did he expect was going to happen? That we were going to run to him for comfort?” Wilbur sneers.

“Idiot. Who does he think we are?” Wilbur says, his brown eyes blazing with anger.

“He’s our dad,” Techno sighs, “He thinks he knows what's best.”

“Yeah, well he can go fuck off,” Wilbur snaps, clutching Tommy tighter, “He’ll pay for this.”

“He will.”

~~~~~

Tommy rests against Wilbur, his head leaning on his chest, his arms wrapped around his torso, half in Wilbur’s lap. Wilbur plays with his hair with one hand, his other arm wrapped around him, cradling him to his chest.

Techno sits besides the two on the couch, with Tommy’s legs in his lap, gently tracing patterns on his calf.

It's a cloudy day, with dark storm clouds rolling in, a light drizzle and fog, making the whole world seem grey and lethargic. The morning has been quiet, solemn, as if all three of them were mourning the death of someone.

Which they all kind of were. Tommy Innit was dead, and in his place was nothing but a shell of a human body, a walking corpse donning the title of a Reaper.

Wilbur trails his fingers through his hair, gently detangling the knots, scratching at his head here and there. It was soothing, calming, distracting him from his relentless thoughts, as Tommy matches Wilbur’s breathing, in tune with the rise and fall of his chest.

Eventually the peaceful silence around the three is broken by Techno’s sigh, Wilbur lazily looking over at him as Techno’s uncanny red eyes flick up to the duo.

“We need to talk,” Techno says softly, and Tommy huffs, burying his face away in Wilbur’s sweater as his hands curl into the fabric.

“Don’t wanna,” He mutters, clinging onto Wilbur tighter. Wilbur chuckles softly, the hand in his hair making its way down to his neck, playing with the baby hairs there.

“Oh sunshine,” Wilbur sighs, “There is so much to talk about.”

Techno hums in agreement, resting his hand on his ankle. It was a nice grounding weight.

“Like what happened last night?” Techno asks, and Tommy winces, cracking open an eye to meet his red ones. It was still unnerving how blood red his eyes were, nothing like the deep brown they had once been.

Tommy misses them.

He stays quiet, hoping maybe his silence will deter them, but after a couple of moments Wilbur shifts him so he can meet his eyes.

“Tommy, please tell us,” He says softly, cupping his face with one hand, “We— we need to know what happened.”

Tommy withers under his look, swallowing harshly as he glances down at his yellow sweater. He opens his mouth to say something, anything, but then his throat locks up and he can’t quite make out any words.

It takes him a moment, a frustratingly long time before he manages to mutter out words.

“I… I was walking home from work, right? We got held up by some rude Karen, kept us after for thirty extra minutes, and as I was walking I was dragged into an alley.” He says, trying to hide the tremble in his hands as he recalls the events.

“I couldn’t clearly see the guy, but he was much stronger than me. He stabbed me in the stomach, I think, I tried to to save myself, but it was like all of my energy had been drained. I… don’t really remember what happened after that,” He says in a small voice.

Techno shifts besides him, one of his hands landing on his shoulder, squeezing it, as Wilbur makes a pained noise, tugging Tommy’s head back against his chest.

“I'm so sorry, Tommy,” Wilbur breathes, guilt eating away at his voice, “I’m so sorry.”

“It's not your fault, Wil,” Tommy mumbles, but he can’t help the way he remembered wondering where Wilbur or Techno was. When they would come save him.

“It is,” Wilbur stresses, getting worked up again, “We should have been there— gods, one of us should have come to pick you up from work.”

“Wilbur, stop,” Tommy sighs, “No one can change what happened, you stupid bitch.” He says, and the two of them seem to tense up, an uncomfortable silence falling over the three.

Wilbur is silent at that, holding Tommy close, as if he was afraid he was going to disappear, his mind spiraling again.

“Wilbur,” Techno says, “I will take away your Tommy privileges if you don’t stop,” Techno threatens and Wilbur sharply looks up, his eyes going wide in surprise.

“What?” He sputters out, “You— you can't take Tommy away from me,”

“Don’t test me,” Techno says and Tommy snickers at the look on Wilbur’s face. Wilbur glances down at him with a scowl, constricting his arms tighter around him.

“Hey— hey! I am an innocent bystander!” Tommy squeaks out, struggling in Wilburs hold, while Wilbur rolls his eyes, his arms unrelenting around him.

“Yeah right,” He says, starting to tickle him as Tommy screeches, reaching out to Techno for help.

“Techno! Save me!” He exclaims, grabbing onto the man's arm, but Techno just gives him an amused look as Wilbur continues to tickle him, making him laugh as he tries to push away from him.

At the end of the tickle fight Tommy ends up on the ground in a pile of limbs, Wilbur’s legs trapping him in from above the couch, as he and Techno have a perfectly normal conversation over his cries for help.

“Wilbur,” Tommy whines, hitting the man in the shin. Wilbur lightly kicks him in retaliation but says nothing as he continues on his conversation with Techno. “Techno,” Tommy says, dragging out his name, gripping onto his ankle as he tries to drag himself away from Wilbur.

Techno peers down at him with an amused look, before he reaches for him with his arms, scooping Tommy up.

Tommy lets him without fighting back, huffing when he’s set down beside the man, tucked under his arm, while Wilbur watches with sharp eyes.

“Is that better, Theseus?” He asks, practically smushing him against his side. Tommy huffs in annoyance, but doesn’t make a move to leave, moving his head so he can actually see.

“Aw, did Techno take pity on the baby of the house?” Wilbur croons, “Oh, poor baby Tommy, needing big brother Techno to come save him? How cute,” He says in a teasing voice, and Tommy huffs, flipping Wilbur off as he feels his face get warm.

“I don’t need anyone to save me, prick! I am a big man,” He says, not missing the way Wilbur’s look falters for a moment, but he recovers quickly, his grin back on his face.

“Did you meet Kristin, Tommy?” Techno asks suddenly, cutting off the two’s staring contest.

Tommy blinks up at Techno, the name making him pause.

“I— yeah, I did,” He says slowly, “She was a prick.”

Techno raises a brow at that as Wilbur snorts, leaning back against the couch, his brown eyes pinned on him as he listens.

“Oh?” Techno prompts and Tommy nods his head.

“Yeah, she told me a bunch of stupid shit, she probably made it all up.” He huffs, glancing away from Techno.

He doesn't really believe that.

“How do you know her, anyways?” He asks, and Techno gives Wilbur a look.

“Well,” Wilbur begins, “She's our mom.”

Tommy’s head snaps up to meet Wilbur’s eyes, his mouth agape in shock.

“What? Your mom—“ He exclaims, “I thought your mom was some rich ceo! Not a fucking— death monster thing!”

Wilbur snorts at that, an amused look on his face before he sighs.

“There is a lot that we need to tell you, Tommy,” He says, in a more serious note, “This… Reaper business is serious stuff. Dangerous. Its a second chance, sure, but if you fuck it up there’s no going back.”

Tommy sighs, his fingers digging into Techno’s shirt as he looks away from him with a frown.

“I don’t understand what a Reaper even is,” He says, and Techno shifts, peering down at where he ducks his head.

“A Reaper is a soul reborn to serve Death,” Techno explains slowly, “But in simpler terms we are Death's cleanup crew. We have to fix up his mistakes, hunt down the souls that got away, cover up the cracks in his faults.”

“Man, what the fuck,” Tommy breathes out, meeting Techno’s eyes, “Thats stupid as fuck! No way am I doing that shit.”

“You have to,” Wilbur says quickly, a panicked edge to his tone, “Lest you want to attract his attention. If he finds out you’re not pulling your weight then he will terminate you.”

“Death is a cruel man, cold, he does not tolerate disobedience. If you don’t listen to his rules, then he will kill you, and there's no coming back from that,” Techno says, his voice rumbling in his chest, and Tommy shivers.

“W— what? I don’t… I can’t murder people!” Tommy exclaims, taking in panicked breaths, “I— he can’t expect me to kill people!”

“You can’t think about it like that,” Techno says, “The souls you are given to hunt down are people who are supposed to be dead. So technically it is already too late for them.”

“That- I still can’t, Techno.” He says, his voice wavering, “I can’t kill,” He says, his hands shaking at the mere thought of having to kill someone. He doesn't want anyone else to go through what he did, not if he could prevent it.

“There’s no way around this,” Wilbur says, suddenly right in front of him, his hands planted on his shoulders. He’s got a serious look in his eyes, terror and fear swirling in them, with anger bubbling up behind the surface. “You can’t go against him.”

“Wilbur—“ Tommy tries but Wilbur cuts him off.

“No, Tommy, you have to do this, otherwise he will kill you,” Wilbur warns him, looking to Techno for support.

“He’s right, kid,” Techno sighs, his red eyes piercing, “You gotta do what he says.”

Tommy sinks further into the couch, opening his mouth to say something before clicking it shut. He doesn't know what to say, the looks on both of their faces make him nervous, scared— he doesn't want to kill.

“And— and if you don’t, then I’m going to have to make you,” Wilbur says, stuttering on his words, his eyes alive with a fire that burns and burns, swallowing his eyes whole, descending the world into chaos. It drags Tommy in, traps him within his gaze, makes him lean towards him.

“You— you can’t,” Tommy weakly says, but Wilbur just grins, something dark crossing his gaze.

“Oh, but I can, Tommy,” Wilbur sighs, reaching out and cupping his cheek, “Did you know that all Reapers get a special power to aid them in their hunts?” He asks, rubbing his thumb right under his eye.

Tommy shakes his head, he never heard anything about stupid powers.

“Well, my power is the ability to control others,” He says slowly, “And that includes other Reapers.”

Tommy eyes Wilbur with an uncertain look.

“Yeah right,” He huffs out, “Do it right now, prick.”

Wilbur’s grin just turns sharper, as his stormy eyes land on Techno.

“Techno, let Tommy go.” He commands, and Technos grip on his shoulders is gone, leaving Tommy feeling oddly exposed. Tommy gives Techno a confused look, Wilbur’s words bouncing around in his brain, goosebumps traveling up his arms.

Wilbur's voice sounds weird, like really weird— its got a certain honeyed lilt to it, his tone dragging him in, making him hang off of every word. The command weighs heavy in his mind, even if it wasn’t directed at him, consuming all his thoughts.

Wilbur turns his sharp gaze upon him, his swirling eyes narrowing on him as he grins, sickly sweet, the white streak in his hair standing out.

“Tommy, come here,” Wilbur sings out, and it's like Tommy’s drowned in it, suffocating on the command as his limbs move before his brain can even process what was happening. His words stick like glue in his mind, his head repeating it over and over, his sweat honeyed words trapping him, dragging down and down and down.

Before he knows it he’s in Wilbur’s arms, being held against his chest like the most precious thing in the world as he runs a hand through his hair, cooing softly to him under his breath.

Tommy clings onto Wilbur, his fingers clutching at his sweater so hard his knuckles were going white. His head is tucked under his chin, with Wilbur’s arms wrapped around him, trapping him in.

“Wil?” Tommy squeaks out, his voice sounding frail, small, compared to the words still bouncing around in his head.

Wilbur hums, his fingers trailing down his head and to his neck, stopping right where his pulse point would be.

“Do you believe me now?” He asks, his long spindly fingers trailing down his neck, all the way to his collarbone.

“Fuck you,” Tommy says, shivering at his touch as he whines, pressing closer to Wilbur.

Techno clears his throat from behind the two, Wilburs eyes snapping up to glare at him.

“Not cool, Wilbur.” He grumbles, running a hand through his pink hair as he recovers from Wilbur’s voice.

“Aw, is Techno sad his Tommy cuddles got cut short?” Wilbur teases, rolling his eyes, “Hm, good thing we can share.”

Techno just huffs, standing up, his red eyes pinned on the two.

“Alright, how about you two wind down and put on some tv. It's been a long morning for all of us,” Techno grumbles, going off into the kitchen.

Wilbur watches him go, the two of them not moving towards the couch. Tommy, for one, is still recovering from whatever weird mind tricks Wilbur just played on him, practically trembling in his goddamn arms like a scared dog.

Wilbur, like the smug bastard he is, indulges Tommy, holding him close, gently stroking his hair, letting him hide his face away in his chest.

Tommy just goes with it, finding solace in the actions as Wilbur holds him close.

~~~~

It's been a week since he… died.

Tommy’s adjusted pretty well, he would like to say.

Aside from the panic attacks, mental breakdowns, and vivid flashbacks, he’s doing pretty good.

He hasn’t gotten any… assignments yet, something about an adjustment period for new Reapers. Wilbur and Techno made him quit his job, which he was a little sour about, but he doesn't mind sitting at home all day napping or watching tv.

Being a Reaper now means he doesn't need sleep, or food, or water— or anything a normal person would need.

It was weird, and stupid and fuck— Tommy was still going to sleep just to waste away the hours.

He was at home right now, sitting in his bed, in one of those rare moments where both Techno and Wilbur were gone. Usually one of them stayed behind to watch after Tommy, no longer allowing him to be alone anymore.

He was just sitting in bed, sketching in his sketchbook, when a familiar presence invades his room.

He flinches, dropping his art book, his eyes pinned on the women in his room.

“Uh,” He says, scrambling out of his bed, his eyes meeting Kristin’s.

“Good afternoon, Tommy,” Kristin greets with a warm smile, as Tommy pats down his bed hair, giving her a surprised look.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” He asks, his eyes narrowing at her, yet her smile never falls.

“I am here to give you your first assignment,” She says simply, “And to explain some more things,” She adds on, and Tommy eyes her suspiciously, shifting uncomfortably on his feet.

“Or, how about you fuck off and I get to live my life?” Tommy says, crossing his arms, giving her an annoyed look.

Kristin laughs, a soft chuckle, her eyes seemingly warm as they land upon him.

“Oh, no wonder my sons love you so much,” She says, and Tommy pauses, remembering what Wilbur and Techno said the other day.

“You’re their mom?” He exclaims, taking a step back, shaking his head, “No fucking wonder their so weird!”

Kristin splutters at that, giving him a confused look.

“What is that supposed to mean?” She asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Just as it sounds, bitch,” Tommy snaps back, curtly nodding, while she fondly sighs.

“Well, Tommy, I would love to stay and chat, but unfortunately I do have places I need to be, so let's get this train rolling.” She smiles, snapping her fingers, and before Tommy can even blink they’re outside his apartment building, in the chill of fall.

Tommy jolts in surprise, whipping his head around as his eyes struggle to focus on his new surroundings. He feels slightly disoriented and dizzy, as Kristin places a hand on his shoulder, steadying him.

Tommy backs away from her when he gathers his bearings, giving her a nasty look, though she ignores him, strolling forwards and onto the sidewalk.

Tommy doesn't follow at first, wondering if she’ll just walk away, but she pauses, glancing back at him and smiling.

“Come on, now! You have an assignment you need to complete,” She says, waiting for him to catch up. Tommy eyes the people walking around them, very conscious of how he was still in his fucking blue pajamas.

“You could have at least let me get changed first,” He says, suddenly feeling very self conscious, taking a couple steps towards her. He should really just go back home, ignore all of this and wait for his brothers to get back.

But some part of him wants to follow her, to see what she has to say. No matter how hard Tommy tries to hate her or resent her he just can’t bring himself to hold anger for her long, so with a begrudging sigh he follows after her.

She smiles, the two walking in step with one another.

“Your appearance doesn't matter to them,” She says, “To humans you will appear as just a normal person, with normal clothes. Your role is to blend in, keep quiet, get the job done and leave,” She explains, and Tommy huffs, kicking a stone on the concrete.

“Yeah, but it still feels weird,” He grumbles, and Kristin gives him a look.

“Oh you’re fine,” She muses, the two of them moving through the streets, “Don’t worry about it. You will appear just as you’re supposed to.”

“Yeah, in my fucking pajamas?” Tommy huffs, getting a strange look from a person walking past. He sneers at them before continuing on his way, muttering under his breath. Kristin just softly laughs, continuing on until she stops, holding out her hand.

Tommy glances at her, nearly running into someone as he turns to watch what she was doing.

“Are you good?” He asks when nothing happens, and Kristin hums, her eyes scouring the skies. Suddenly a black bird appears out of nowhere, seemingly snapping into existence, cawing and making its way over to Kristin.

It lands on her outstretched hand, ruffling its black feathers, cawing as it cocks its head at Tommy, staring at him with its beady black eyes.

“Woah,” Tommy says, taking a step back as the crow caws, its head following Tommy.

“The crows will deliver your assignments,” Krisitin explains, gently petting its head with her finger, the black feathers shimmering in the sunlight, “All you have to do is touch it,” She says, holding out her hand to him.

Tommy warily watches the crow, as it caws again, flapping its wings in anticipation.

“Touch it?” He repeats, “Why?” He asks, just to be difficult.

“Touch him and you’ll see why,” She says with a smile, and Tommy huffs, though he reaches out with his hand and brushes along the feathers at its head. He was half expecting it to bite him, but the crow leans into his touch, clicking its beak.

“Nothings happening—“ He begins, but then freezes up at the new presence inside his head.

There is a wayward soul wandering the graveyards of L’Manberg. Bring it to me.

The voice is monotone, cold, flat and void of any emotion. It makes him feel off, goosebumps traveling up his arms as he yanks his hand back, his eyes going wide as he stares at the crow. The voice rattles around his head, the words forever engraved into his mind.

“What the fuck,” He breathes out, and Kristin laughs, stroking the crows head again.

“They will deliver Death’s messages to you,” She says, before tossing the crow up into the air. The crow caws, and flies higher up, though it never strays far from them. Her eyes linger on it for a moment before she starts walking again, humming softly to herself.

“After a crow comes to you, you have three days to complete its assignment for you,” She explains, the two walking down the street once again, “If you do not complete it in time, then it will be given to another Reaper, and the crow will report back to Death himself.”

“The crows are snitches?” Tommy asks, glancing up at the one in the sky.

She laughs softly, giving him a look.

“They take their jobs very seriously,” She muses, glancing back out in front of them, “I would suggest always completing your assignment right when you get one. There’s no telling how long one can take. Death does not tolerate any of his Reapers failing an assignment, as there will be consequences,” She warns him, and Tommy swallows nervously.

“That's a bunch of bull shit,” He mutters, “What is he? My fucking teacher?”

Kristin cracks a smile at that before sighing.

“I’m serious, Tommy,” She says, “Do not be late with any of them. You cannot attract Deaths attention, no matter what you do.”

Tommy scowls but says nothing, staring down at his feet.

“Reapers are also gifted a special power,” Kristin says after a moment of silence, “A unique ability suited for each Reaper.”

“Yeah?” Tommy says, “What's my power then?” He asks.

“That is something you have to figure out,” She smiles, and Tommy rolls his eyes, noting that they were coming up on a cemetery.

“How?” He asks with a grumble, and Kristin hums.

“It will come to you in your greatest time of need,” She explains, “That could be today or a year from now. It all depends.” She shrugs, and Tommy rolls his eyes. Great, he gets powers that he doesn't even get to use.

“Alright, focus now,” Kristin says, as she opens up the gate to the cemetery. It's a small plot of land sectioned off in the city, surrounded by trees and bushes. It was old, like some ancient shit, with weird names like JSchlatt and Quackity written on the gravestones.

Tommy has never been in this one before, on the well maintained grass, with about twenty gravestones on the plot. Huge oak trees and birches surround it, blocking out most of the city.

“People are gonna report us,” Tommy says to Kristin, “We’re not supposed to be here—“

“Hush,” Kristin says, “We are not like humans, they will never interfere with an assignment no matter how outlandish it is. We probably appear as inspectors right now, cleaning the gravestones, cutting the grass— it doesn’t matter,” She says, her eyes skimming over the graveyard.

“Your first assignment is catching a lost soul. They are like ghosts, really, and just need some help getting to the afterlife,” Kristin says, before her eyes land upon what they had been searching for.

“There— do you see it?” She asks, pointing at a shimmery figure as they come out from behind a tree. They float above the ground, with a blank expression on their face. Their body is see-through, tinted blue.

There is no shadow and there is no noise, as it passes through objects as if they hadn’t been there in the first place, a blank look on its face.

“We’re hunting a fucking ghost,” Tommy says, “We’re just like the ghost busters—“

“Come on,” Kristin says, walking up to the ghost thing, following it as it slowly floats away. “This one is docile, confused, one of the easiest lost souls to collect,” She hums, suddenly holding out a fucking dagger to Tommy.

“Take this,” She says, handing him the black and red item, ignoring Tommy’s shock, “This weapon will be your starter one. You can only use it on wayward souls and the marked dead.”

Tommy stares down at the dagger, at the black metal that seems to glow and shimmer, as if it was enchanted or some shit. The handle of it had black leather with red accents engraved into it.

“After a while you can ask for a different weapon, like a gun, or a sword, sometimes even a scythe, though those are rather impractical. I wouldn’t recommend one,” She explains, “All you have to do is just stab the ghost.”

Tommy gives her a look, testing out the weight of the dagger in his hand. He has never really used any sort of weapon before.

“Um okay,” He says, approaching the slow moving ghost, “I just— stab it?” He asks, feeling very uncomfortable right now. Kristin nods her head, giving him an encouraging smile. Tommy sighs, staring at the ghost.

It doesn't even acknowledge him, just floating right on by without a care in the world, nearly brushing up against Tommy.

He goes for it, stabbing the ghost in the chest with the dagger, though he feels like he was just stabbing air at this point. The ghost recoils, as if it had been burnt, before it slowly starts to fade away into nothing.

Tommy’s left there staring at nothing, dagger still in hand, and a dumb look on his face.

“Thats it?” He asks, and Kristin nods.

“See? Easy,” She says, “Lost souls are walks in the park. Even with hostile ghosts they can’t really hurt you, more so a pain in the ass to catch.”

Tommy nods, peering down at the dagger.

“Well that was fucking stupid,” He says, “You really need me to go around stabbing ghosts? What is the point?”

“It was an assignment. You should appreciate the easy ones when you get them.” She says, “Another assignment you will be given is to kill a person who was meant to die but didn’t.” She hums and Tommy tenses, his eyes snapping to her.

“Its basically the same as this, stab them until they are dead. They shouldn’t put up much of a fight—”

“There is no way I can kill a person!” Tommy exclaims, dropping the dagger as if it had burnt him, “I can’t- I can’t kill a person!”

Kristin gives him an odd look.

“Yes you can,” She says slowly, “And you will, you cannot refuse an assignment. Just think of it like taking out a lost soul. No harm no foul. You aren’t killing random nobodies, they were meant to die, they cheated the system. We have to restore the balance.”

Tommy just shakes his head, feeling panic crawl its way underneath his skin.

“I— I can’t,” He stutters out.

“You have too,” Kristin fires back, “Unless you want to be killed by Death himself, you have to do what he orders. There is no way around this.”

Tommy is quiet at that, biting the inside of his cheek as anxiety claws through his stomach.

Kristin sighs, glancing away from Tommy.

“Unfortunately you will get assignments that involve a living person. There is nothing I can do.”

Tommy withers under her look, his eyes pinned on the dagger on the ground.

“If you have any questions just ask Wilbur or Techno,” She says soflty, “Don’t interact with other Reapers. Some of them do not take kindly to newbies. Keep your head and your mouth shut. Stay off of Death’s radar, complete your assignments on time. If you ever need help finding a place ask the crow.”

Tommy closes his eyes, letting out a shaky exhale.

“I don’t know if I can do this.” He admits in a small voice. Kristin is quiet for a long time before she finally speaks.

“You have to try,” She says softly, “For Wilbur and Techno. Do it for them.”

Tommy looks up at her, at her kind smile.

“You’re not a murderer for killing the living dead, either.” She says, “It was fate they were supposed to die. You are just helping it along.”

That doesn’t make him feel any better, he was still killing a living person, but whatever.

“Good bye, Tommy.” She says, and then shes gone, leaving Tommy all alone in a fucking creepy ass old cemetery.

“Fuck.”

Chapter Text

Tommy sits at a park bench, staring out at nothing, mindlessly bouncing his leg up and down.

He sat at the bench he would always go to when he was having a difficult time, out in one of the parks nearby his apartment. It was a nice park, full of nature and shit, it was a good place to think.

Worry weighs heavily on his shoulders, and guilt and fear eat away at his stomach. His mind is one big mess, with racing thoughts and conflicting emotions swirling around inside him.

He sighs, his eyes lazily looking out at the small lake in front of him.

Its been a couple weeks since he became a Reaper now. The first four assignments were all ghosts, easy tasks he could take care of.

But then he started getting assignments with people who were alive.

Each and every time he couldn't manage to bring himself to kill them.

Wilbur and Techno don’t know. Tommy’s afraid of how they will react when they find out Tommy hasn’t completed the past six assignments… theres no way Death hasn’t noticed by now. It was only a matter of time before he comes to kill him.

Yet Tommy can’t really care.

He knew he was never going to be able to kill.

So now he sits and contemplates all his life decisions. Really he was always meant to die, becoming a Reaper was just the universes cruel way of keeping him around just a little bit longer. Maybe Tommy didn’t want to come back, maybe he wanted to die instead of live an immortal life of killing.

He suddenly feels the overwhelming urge to cower in fear, to get on his hands and knees and beg for forgiveness, to make himself as small as possible.

It makes his racing thoughts pause, as he focuses in on this new overwhelming feeling.

He promptly ignores it in favor of wondering what was the best way to break the news to Techno and Wilbur. That was much scarier then whatever the fuck that just was.

He hears footsteps behind him and groans, turning his head to see who the fuck it was.

A middle aged man walks towards his bench, a cold expression on his face, his blue eyes pinned on Tommy. The guy looks exactly like him, with pale blonde hair, blue eyes, even their face shapes are similar— it was uncanny.

His hair goes down to his shoulders, not as curly as Tommy’s was, more so wavy if anything, and he has some stubble on his chin. His eyes are cold, mean, and dark— he wears a weird looking green and white shirt with green pants that have white accents on it.

The guy also wears a golden necklace and an emerald earring, along with black boots.

As the man approaches his expression slowly dissolves into one of confusion, his blue eyes flickering around for a moment before landing back on Tommy as if he was uncertain of what was going on.

“Uh— do you mind if I sit here?” He asks, and Tommy narrows his eyes.

“Sure, but there’s literally like two other empty benches.” He says flatly, in a annoyed tone, scooting over more as the man sits down on the bench to be as far away from him as possible.

“Ah, yeah, but you looked lonely.” He shrugs, and Tommy shoots him an offended look.

“Just so you know I’m not fucking lonely,” Tommy says, slouching down further on the bench, rolling his eyes. What the fuck did this guy think he was doing? Coming up and insulting him? What a prick.

The weird man just stares at him in something akin to shock, his blue eyes wide before he schools his expression, offering him a fake smile when they meet gazes.

“So, why are you out here all by yourself?” He asks after a while of silence, and Tommy shrugs, not looking at the guy as he stares out at the water, tapping his fingers on his leg.

“To get away, I suppose.” He says, “You?”

The man smiles softly, peering out at the lake along with Tommy.

“You could say the same.”

“Wow, so interesting.” Tommy huffs, crossing his arms, “I’m so glad you decided to sit right next to me on this very lovely day in an empty park. Just what I wanted.” He says sarcastically, rolling his eyes as he gives the man a nasty look.

The man chuckles, a rather appealing sound, making Tommy glance over at him.

“Do you not know who I am, mate?” He asks, and Tommy just gives him a long blank look.

“Besides some weirdo talking to a minor? No.” Tommy hums, “What are you, some famous YouTuber? An influencer? If this is a prank video I don’t want any part of it.”

The man just seems confused, one of his eyebrows quirking up.

“Ah, no… you could say I'm a celebrity.” He says after a long moment of silence, “My name is Phil, by the way. I don’t think I ever caught yours?”

“Well, Phil, I’m Tommy.” Tommy says slowly, “Now what do you want with me? Other then making awkward conversation.” Tommy huffs, trying to get this guy to leave. He just wanted some peace and quiet so he could mull over how he was going to talk to Techno and Wilbur.

Phil just gives him an odd look before smiling, something flashing across his blue eyes.

“Nice to meet you, Tommy.” He says, ignoring his previous sentence, “You are rather bold,” He states, and Tommy huffs, rolling his eyes as he sinks down into his seat.

“And you are rather old,” He shoots right back, earning him a chuckle from Phil. He can’t help but crack a smile himself, glancing at the guy again. No one has ever really interacted like this with him since he died. It was nice.

“Do your parents know you're out here?” Phil asks, gazing back out at the lake, “This park isn’t known for being the safest, especially alone.” He hums, and Tommy shoots him a look.

Definitely not suspicious at all.

“I don’t have parents, prick,” Tommy says, “And I know this place is dangerous, thats why I like it so much. I live life on the edge, on the dangerous side.”

Phil snorts at that, sending him an amused glance.

“Oh yeah?” He muses, and Tommy nods his head, grinning.

“Yeah, man, yeah,” Tommy says, “Anyways, I know self defense, so don’t try anything.”

“Never planned on it, mate.” Phil says, and Tommy rolls his eyes, frowning as they fall into a lapse of silence again. It was hard to keep any conversation going with the guy.

Phil sits besides him, staring out at the lake, watching as the wind ripples the surface and the ducks that swim further out, while Tommy stares down at the grass below them, his mind drifting back to Wilbur and Techno.

Maybe he should just… not tell them. Keep on going, and the day he disappears they’ll know Tommy fucked up.

He should write them a note, his will, so when he kicks the bucket for the final time hopefully they’ll have some peace of mind. Maybe.

Probably not, but its the best plan Tommy’s got right now.

“What are you thinking about?” Phil asks suddenly, noting the look on Tommy’s face.

“Stuff,” Tommy mutters, fiddling with the hem of his shirt.

“You can confide in me, mate. Maybe I can offer you some advice.” Phil says softly, offering him a small smile. Tommy meets his eyes, wondering if he should indulge the man.

“Advice, huh? You're so old you’ve probably seen it all,” Tommy says, and Phil rolls his eyes, leaning back in his seat, looking rather relaxed around Tommy considering they were complete strangers.

“I’m not that old,” He says, and Tommy snorts, giving him a look.

“Keep telling yourself that,” He says and Phil sighs fondly, his blue eyes seemingly much brighter then they had been when they first met. They fall into silence, before Tommy sighs, glancing down at his hands.

“I… I don’t know how to tell my two brothers that I’ve been going behind their backs and keeping secrets from them,” He says slowly, “I— I’m not doing anything bad, well… no, I just— I don’t want them to worry about me, or be hurt or upset… I just want them to be happy.” He sighs, running a hand through his hair.

“And what I’m doing will make them upset with me. They’ll probably ground me when they find out.” He says quietly, and Phil gives him a look.

“Well, mate, you should probably tell them before they find out on their own,” Phil begins, “Sometimes you just got to get it over with, no matter how hard it is. I’m sure if you explain to them why you kept it to yourself that they wouldn't be as upset.” Phil glances away from him for a moment.

“It sounds like you really care about them.”

“I do,” Tommy breathes out, “They’re the only family I got. I don’t want to ruin what we have.”

“I don’t think you will,” Phil says, “Family is meant to stick together no matter what, right? If they’re truly your brothers then they will forgive you.”

Tommy lets his words soak in, sliding down in his seat further.

“I guess you're right… I just don’t know why I’m so worried about this.” He sighs, “I don’t want to hurt them.” He admits softly, his eyes staring down at his hands.

“I see,” Phil hums, glancing at him, “I think you need to stop worrying about it so much, though. You're working yourself up over nothing.”

“You don’t know that,” Tommy huffs, glancing over at him and meeting his blue gaze.

“Maybe, but I have a feeling that your brothers will get over whatever it is you're doing.” Phil smiles, and Tommy glances down at his hands.

“I suppose,” He eventually agrees, before they both fall back into silence. The wind whistles past, and the sun pokes out from behind some of the clouds, though only for a minute, before the world becomes grey again.

He feels a little better from talking with Phil and getting his worries off his chest. Even though Phil was still weird and creepy he didn’t seem like to bad of a person.
“You're not too bad, Phil.” Tommy says, as he stands up, stretching out his limbs, “Thanks, I guess.” He hums, offering him a smile. Phil matches his own smile, his blue eyes sparkling as he stands up too.

“Of course, mate,” He says, “I’ll see you around.” And then he leaves, walking the way he had come, back along the trail.

Tommy watches him go, feeling lighter then he has in a while.

Phil was an interesting person. He hopes he sees him again.

~~~~

Tommy doesn't end up talking to Wilbur or Techno about his… failed assignments yet.

He’s still waiting for the ball to drop, for Death himself to come in and fucking murder him where he stands. Every moment he lives in a constant state of fear and terror just waiting for the inevitable to happen.

Its been about a week since he talked to Phil. There have been crows around, sure, but none has given him a mission. They just watch him, sit on his window ceil, follow him around the apartment when he goes to another room.

It was creepy, and when he asked Wilbur about it he said sometimes Death’s crows just like to hang around Reapers when they’re bored and cause mischief.

It still doesn't ease his worries.

He wrote his makeshift will and hid it in his desk, folded and placed on top of his notebooks.

He thinks if he goes missing maybe they’d look for clues in there and find his note that explains everything. He hopes that they never have to read it, but with the way things were going he has a bad feeling that he won’t be around much longer.

He was sitting on the couch with Techno, curled up beside him, one of Techno’s arms wrapped around him, as Tommy rests his head on his shoulder, his arms wrapped lazily around Techno. They were watching a movie while Wilbur did something in the kitchen.

Technically since they were dead they didn’t need to eat anymore, yet when Tommy was alive they would still eat every meal with him. Its a habit all of them fell into and didn’t want to break, and now Wilbur was fucking around with brownies or some shit.

There was a sudden commotion in the kitchen, a few curses from Wilbur as a crow suddenly flaps into the living room.

Tommy eyes it warily as it flys around in a circle, Techno sighing besides him when the crow caws, before it lands on the armrest besides Tommy.

Tommy stares at it with an annoyed look, wondering what it wanted, a small terror of fear coursing through him though he pushes it down.

“I think its here for you, Tommy.” Techno says, giving Tommy a small nudge towards it. Tommy sighs, giving Techno a look, before he reaches out a hand to the stupid crow. The crow caws once again, before flapping its wings and landing on his finger.

Lost soul in down town L’Manberg. Go immediately.

Tommy rips his hand back from the intensity of the message, staring at the crow with wide eyes.

That was new.

He’s not sure how to feel about that as the crow stares at him with its beady black eyes, cawing again when Tommy doesn't get up to leave.

“Uh, Tommy? What’d it say?” Techno asks, glancing at him, his red eyes boring into his.

“It said there was a lost soul and to go immediately,” Tommy mumbles, still watching the crow, and Techno stiffens from besides him before sighing, unwrapping the arm around him. Tommy looks over at Techno, confused.

“This must be really important, then. You should leave now.” Techno says, and Tommy mutters a few curses under his breath before getting up, making his way to the door.

He pulls on his shoes, ignoring the stupid crow that follows after him.

“Wait, what’s happening?” Wilbur asks as he pokes his head into the living room, his gaze landing on Tommy, “Are you going out on an assignment? But I wanted to make brownies with you!”

Tommy just gives Wilbur a look.

“Apparently I got to do this shit now, so, bye!” He calls, opening the door and leaving, the crow hot on his tail.

~~~~

Tommy finds the lost soul easily.

He’s in down town L’Manberg, where all the super old brick buildings are, historical monuments and shit. Its also where all the shops are, with even a few carnival games. The roads are blocked off from cars, and people walk along the streets, buying things and having fun.

Tommy easily takes out the lost soul, pulling out his dagger and stabbing it in the chest, watching as it faded away into nothing.

No one gives him a second glance as he sheathes his dagger, sighing as the ghost disappears from view.

This was kind of a stupid assignment, he’s not sure why exactly he had been called out to deal with one measly wayward soul in such an urgent manner.

Suddenly he feels a paralyzing fear shoot through him, making him freeze up for a second as a wave of panic and terror courses through him. He pushes it away with a sigh, wondering why he’s having these panic episodes as he calms his nerves, shaking off the goosebumps along his arms.

“Hey, Tommy!” Someone greets him, and Tommy can’t help the way he flinches, his eyes flickering up and landing on fucking Phil as he waves at him, a bright smile on his face as he walks over.

“Oh, hey Phil.” Tommy says, a slight tremor to his words— he wasn’t expecting to see him so soon again.

Phil stops right in front of him, his smile never leaving as his blue eyes stare right into his, seemingly taking him in.

“What are you doing out here?” He asks causally, “Doing some shopping?”

Tommy shrugs, glancing around.

“I wanted to come check out the carnival games,” He decides upon, “Aren’t they supposed to start setting up carnival rides too? For whatever festival is coming up?” Tommy asks, that would be fun to go to with Techno and Wilbur. He can already imagine all the chaos the three would cause.

“I believe so,” Phil hums, before he smiles softly at him, “Do you always go to the festival?” He asks.

“Yeah, most times,” Tommy says, “Usually me and brothers go, and we spend the whole night out riding rides and playing the games,” He says, smiling at the memory, “I don’t know if we’re gonna go this year… they will probably say they’re to busy for it. But I’ll find a way to make them come, even if I have to drag them all the way here,” He laughs.

“No skipping out on carnival day,” He says, and Phil smiles, his blue eyes swirling with different emotions, “Anyways, what are you doing out here old man?” He asks, “Don’t tell me you were just out for a walk around town, either. Thats lame as fuck and I will definitely judge you if that is the case.”

Phil laughs, giving him a wide smile, seemingly captivated by Tommy, his eyes never leaving him.

“Oh, no,” Phil chuckles, “I was actually out here to buy some things,” He says, his eyes flickering around all the booths, “Do you want to join me?” He asks, and Tommy pauses for a moment, meeting his eyes.

Something about the man draws him in, his blue eyes dragging him down, making him want to see him smile more, laugh at his jokes. He’s not really sure where all this is coming from, Phil was just a stranger to him, yet he wants to get to know him more.

It was weird, and Tommy’s not sure how he feels about it, but he decides he might as well. Not like he has much better to do anyways.

“Sure,” He says simply, “I’ll join you, just so you won’t be so alone,” He grins, and Phil rolls his eyes, shaking his head fondly.

“You’re so kind, Tommy.” He says mockingly, “Now come on, child.” He says, starting to walk off into the crowd, with Tommy following close behind him.

“What do you even need from here anyways?” Tommy asks, following after the man as he walks, “Some new candles? Old people soup? Stupid antique plates?” Tommy guesses, and Phil snorts, shooting him a look.

“How old do you think I am?” He muses, his blue eyes glinting, “But no, I need some fresh ingredients for my wife so she can make a pie, and then I wanted to look around at some of the jewelry for my sons.” Phil says, and Tommy pauses, his eyes going wide.

“You have kids?” He blurts out, and Phil nods his head, a small fond smile on his face.

“Yeah, I’ve got three of them, though one hasn’t come home yet.” He says with a small sigh, “He’ll be home soon, though. All of them will.” Phil says, and Tommy makes a face at that.

“How old are they?” He asks, wanting to know more about his family.

“The twins are both in their twenties, and my youngest is only sixteen.” Phil says, and Tommy nods his head, taking in this new information.

“Damn, I'm sixteen too,” He says, “What school does he go to?” He asks, even though he hasn’t been to school in a couple years, he might have known him.

“Ah, we aren’t from around here, so you wouldn't know what school it was.” Phil says, and Tommy rolls his eyes as Phil stops in front of a stand selling freshly picked cherries.

“Yeah? Where are you from, then?” He asks, and Phil glances at him, smiling softly.

“We’re from the Empire, recently moved to L’Manberg not that long ago. Its been a big adjustment for all of us.” He says, and Tommy nods his head, wondering why the fuck he would want to leave the Antarctic Empire of all places to come to L’Manberg.

“That’s cool, but why L’Manberg? This place is kind of a dump.” Tommy states, “The Empire must be so cool, though, with all the fucking snow and ice— did you ever get to see the castle? The Emperor? Gods I want to meet him one day, he sounds so fucking cool.”

Phil gives him an amused look.

“You want to visit the Empire?” He asks, and Tommy nods his head eagerly.

“Oh course! Don’t you know how cool that place is! Literally and figuratively!”

Phil laughs at that, his blue eyes full of fondness and adoration. “Maybe one day soon you’ll get to visit it.”

“I hope so,” Tommy says, peering at the bags of cherries in front of them. They’re all a deep maroon color, with the pits and stems having not been removed, “Is your wife making cherry pie?” He guesses as Phil picks out a bag of cherries, paying for it.

Phil glances at him before moving on to the other stands, searching for something.

“Yeah, cherry and apple.” He says, walking up to another stand selling apples and strawberries.

“Apple pie? Thats my favorite!” Tommy says, bouncing on his feet after the man, “Its even better with some whip cream on top and ice cream! You should save me a piece,” Tommy grins, and Phil smiles at him, his blue eyes crinkling.

“I’ll bring you some,” He promises, “I’m sure you’ll love it.”

“Of course, old man!” Tommy says, “I love anything sweet.”

“Yeah?” Phil muses, as he grabs a bag of apples and pays for them, waving the stand owner goodbye as they move on, with Tommy rambling about his favorite sweets while Phil nods his head, listening to every little detail.

It was nice, being able to just talk and ramble while Phil doesn’t even get mad at him for going on about random nonsense as he follows him around, trialing after him like a lost puppy.

After Phil drops off his ingredients for his wife’s pie in his car they head back to the small shopping area, where Phil leads him to a jewelry booth. There’s gold necklaces inlaid with pretty jewels and crystals of all shapes and sizes, wrapped in gold or silver and very shiny.

“Ooo! Phil— look at this one!” Tommy says, patting the mans arm as he sees a red gem wrapped in gold. It catches his eyes, with the way it sparkles in the light, seemingly glowing. “Look at how shiny it is!”

“Oh, thats a pretty one,” Phil says, his eyes landing on the necklace he had been pointing at, “Do you want it?” He asks, and Tommy gives him a look.

“I mean— yeah, but I don’t have any money on me—“ He begins but Phil just smiles, resting his hand on his shoulder and picking up the necklace.

“I’ll get it for you,” He says simply, and Tommy’s eyes go wide.

“Wait— what! No, you don’t have too, really, I have money I just didn’t bring it—“

“Its fine, Tommy.” Phil smiles brightly, “I want to get it for you, mate. Its no problem at all.”

“But Phil,” Tommy whines, giving the man a look, “Now I’m gonna feel bad.”

Phil just chuckles at that, ruffling his hair, ignoring Tommy’s look.

“Don’t worry about it, really!” Phil says, “Consider it my treat,” He smiles, and Tommy sighs, relenting.

“Fine, but I’ll pay you back next time.” He decides upon, and Phil just shakes his head.

“If that makes you feel better, sure.” Phil says and Tommy huffs, watching as he picks out some other necklaces and earrings, sticking with gold wrapping instead of silver. He must just like gold better. After Phil puts the copious amounts of jewelry(Tommy is starting to think he might be rich) he hands him a small bag with the necklace he had wanted.

Tommy opens it, noting there was another item in his bag.

“Phil,” Tommy says, gaining the man’s attention, “I think the guy put this one in here on accident,” He says, holding up a small emerald earring.

Phil just smiles at him.

“I got that one for you, too.” He says, and Tommy gives him a confused look, glancing at the earring again.

“But my ears aren’t pierced. Is your vision starting to go? Do you need glasses?” Tommy asks, and Phil shakes his head, his blue eyes glinting.

“I can hold onto it for you for now, mate,” He offers, “But it means something important to me.”

“Oh,” Is all Tommy says, blinking slowly down at the earring. “What does it mean?” He asks, and Phil just gives him a small smile.

“It represents our friendship,” He explains, his blue eyes never leaving his, “Only people I think deserves a friendship emerald gets one,” He shrugs, as if it wasn't that big of a deal, but Tommy actually thinks it really was a big deal.

“Cool, cool,” Tommy says, putting the emerald back in the bag, smiling up at Phil, “Thanks, I guess? I’ll cherish it forever.” He promises with a nod, and Phil seems to brighten up at that, his blue eyes swirling with fondness and something else, something darker that Tommy decides to ignore.

“I’m glad,” He smiles, and Tommy tucks the bag securely away in his pocket, following after Phil as the man leads him towards the carnival games.

“I haven’t played any of theses in a long time,” Phil says, his eyes scanning over the selection of them. There was one where you had to toss a ring onto glass bottles, which was definitely rigged, and one where you had to pop the balloons, and another where you had to catch these fish with that weird magnet fishing rod—

“Oh? Well good thing I am here! I am a master at these games,” Tommy grins, his eyes sparkling, “And by master I mean I am good at cheating.”

Phil chuckles at that, giving him a look.

“You cheat on these?” He asks, and Tommy nods proudly.

“Never been caught either.” He says, and Phil shakes his head.

“I wouldn't expect anything less.” Phil says and Tommy grins, noting how dark the sky was getting. The sun was starting to set, casting the sky in dark purples and blues, the street lamps starting to come on, bathing everything in the soft lights.

“Come on! I can win you anything you want, Phil!” Tommy says, grabbing onto Phil’s arm and dragging him over to one of the carnival games, getting in line as he watches the people in front of them try and land the rings on one of the bottle necks.

“Yeah?” Phil says, smiling as Tommy nods.

“What do you want me to win you?” He asks, eyeing the prizes hanging up, “They’ve got some Minecraft plushies— have you ever heard of Minecraft? Its very popular, even in your old age I'm sure you’ve heard it somewhere—“

Phil laughs, ruffling his hair, gaining his attention. Tommy glances up at him with a grumpy look, blowing the hair out of his face.

“I’ve heard of Minecraft,” He sighs, though his eyes hold an incredibly fond look in them, mirth and something dark, “I’m not that old.”

“Sure, Phil, sure, keep telling yourself that.” Tommy hums, glancing back at the prizes, “So, which prize do you want then?”

Phil looks over all the prizes before humming, glancing back at Tommy.

“How about the crow one?” He says, and Tommy scrunches his nose up at that, his eyes landing on the black crow plush hanging from the ceiling of the stand.

“Really? A crow? Thats a lame bird.” He says and Phil just shakes his head, an amused look on his face.

“Whats wrong with crows, mate?” He asks, and Tommy rolls his eyes, crossing his arms.

“Crows are the worst,” He says, “Always being annoyin’ and shit, especially when they caw, they just get on my nerves.” He grumbles and Phil chuckles.

“Yeah?” He says, “It sounds like you’ve got something personal against crows.” Phil muses, and Tommy splutters, giving Phil a look.

“I just hate them! They’re always watching me too— they’re creepy birds! Stalking me and shirt, I swear I can’t go anywhere without one of those fuckers showing up.” Tommy says and Phil laughs again, patting him on the back.

“I’m sure the crows have a good reason,” He says, “You shouldn’t get mad at them, but instead think about why they might be following you in the first place. Did you feed one once? Disturb one of their nests? There could be many reasons.” Phil says, and Tommy shakes his head.

“No, they’re just all pricks.” He grumbles, “I didn’t do shit.”

Phil just gives him a look then shrugs.

“If you think so, but animals don’t do things without a reason, mate.” Phil says, and Tommy huffs, but says nothing more. He knows why the crows were following him— at least, he thinks he knows why. It’s because he hasn’t been finishing his assignments like he’s supposed too.

They’re probably all telling Death about how he doesn't do them and how he just sits at home watching tv or some stupid shit.

“Come on, I’m gonna win you that stupid crow plushie.”

~~~~

Tommy sits in a booth right next to Phil, slumping down in his seat.

The two had played a couple carnival games, with Tommy managing to win each and every one with his most excellent skills, before dropping all their stuff off at Phil’s car and making their way to this one sit down restaurant not to far away from where they had been.

Tommy’s been to this place before, Wilbur knows the owner, Niki, so she usually always give them a small discount on their food. It was a nice place, with a little bakery at the entrance and then a restaurant in the back.

Tommy had ordered what he always did, a chicken sandwich with french fries and a coke.

Phil had gotten fish and chips, and now the two were finishing up their meals after a long night out, the mostly empty restaurant adding to the slow atmosphere around them.

As Tommy got to know Phil more he realized just how fun of a guy he can be. The two of them clicked pretty well, falling into playful banter and what not. It doesn't help that Phil has such a dad vibe to him too— it makes something deep inside his chest ache.

He wishes he had a dad like this. Deep down he thinks just how lucky Phil’s sons were, to have someone as cool as him as their dad. It makes him envious, and a little bitter that he had no one like Phil in his life.

Tommy was tired, he notes, as he eats one of his fries, frowning as he tries to figure out why. He knows he’s had a long day, but he was fucking dead now, he doesn't get tired anymore. He’s stayed up all night before and haven't felt the need to sleep once.

It was odd, and distracting, the way his eyelids were hard to keep open, exhaustion weighing heavy on his body. All he really wants to do right now is just go to bed.

“Tired, Tommy?” Phil asks, his blue eyes scanning over him. Tommy yawns, taking another sip of his soda before giving Phil a look.

“What do you think?” He mutters, wondering if his tiredness was just a facade to make him appear more human in front of Phil. It could be possible, but its never happened before, so it makes him uneasy.

“How far away is your home?” He asks, leaning back in his seat, a kind smile on his face as Tommy rests his head back, closing his eyes for a moment.

“About a twenty minute walk,” He shrugs, “Its not too bad.”

“This late?” Phil asks, a worried tone seeping into his voice, “Why don’t you just let me drive you home, yeah? I’d be too worried about you walking the streets this late.”

Tommy opens one of his eyes to peer at Phil, taking him in.

“I mean, I’d be fine, really,” He says, the worried look on Phil’s face making him crumble. “I guess if you really want to drive me sure,” He grumbles, glancing down at his lap, “But you’ve already done so much for me today—“

“Don’t worry about it,” Phil smiles, his blue eyes glinting in the light as he leans towards him, “Really, I enjoyed this time with you, I’m glad we got to meet one more time.” He says, and Tommy can’t see any hint of a lie or deception in his eyes, only that same fondness.

“Alright,” He says after a moment, glancing away from Phil, “Thanks for today,” He says in a quiet voice, “It was fun.”

“I’m glad, mate.” Phil says, “I’ve enjoyed spending time with you.”

“Yeah?” Tommy says as he yawns again, slouching down further in his seat, “I don’t know why I’m so tired, I usually go to bed way later then this.” He grumbles and Phil laughs softly.

“You probably need a good nights sleep, mate. Come on, lets get you home.” Phil says, gently tugging on his arm. Tommy grumbles in complaint, but follows Phil out of the booth, standing up and stretching.

Phil leads him out, waving bye to Niki as they pass her, and back down the street to where his car was parked. The two walk side by side, as Tommy stuffs his hands in his pockets, trying to escape the chill of the night air.

They walk in a peaceful silence, the whole world seemingly slowing down, just the two of them for as far as the eye can see.

When they get to his car Tommy hops in the passenger seat while Phil walks around the other side, getting in and turning the car on as Tommy gets comfy, snuggling into the seat.

“Don’t fall asleep on me,” Phil chuckles softly, and Tommy rolls his eyes, switching on the seat heater as he wraps his arms around himself, peering around Phil’s car. Its very new looking, clean and sleek, and even smelt like a new car.

“Turn left up ahead,” Tommy says, his voice soft, small, the quietest he’s been all night. Phil hums, putting the car in gear and driving off, following Tommy’s instructions until they make it back to his apartment.

Phil parks right outside out of it, turning the car off and glancing over at Tommy who was struggling to keep his eyes open. It was like Tommy was hit with a sudden wave of exhaustion, making him want to do nothing more then curl up in a ball and fall asleep.

“Tommy? Mate, we’re here.” Phil says, and Tommy hums in acknowledgment, trying to wave Phil off but he’s just so tired. Was he drugged? There was no way he could have been. So why the fuck was he so exhausted?

“Hey, come on, you can fall asleep in your home, not my car.” Phil muses, opening his door and getting out, coming to Tommy’s side.

Tommy waves Phil off, mumbling something incoherent under his breath. His eyes are to heavy to keep open, and no matter how hard he tries he can’t manage to keep them open for more then a couple seconds.

He whines, uncertain of what was happening to him.

Phil gently shushes him, unbuckling him and dragging him out of the car, letting Tommy lean most of his weight against him.

“Its okay, Tommy.” Phil says softly, his voice the only thing Tommy can concentrate on. He feels his consciousness slipping even more, as Phil brushes his hair back with a gentle hand, “We’re almost there, yeah? And then you can go to sleep, but not yet.” He promises, starting to walk towards his building with him stumbling along.

“I know my boys are going to be so excited to see me,” He says, and Tommy hums, his brain not really understanding what all Phil was going on about, “And when my boys see who I’ve got in tow, they’ll realize what big of a mistake they’ve made.”

Tommy just drowsily nods his head in agreement, resting his head on Phil’s shoulder as the man leads him through the building and into the elevator. Phil hums softly under his breath, some song Tommy doesn’t recognize, letting Tommy dump his full weight onto the man.

He tries to say something, apologize maybe, because he has no idea why he is so fucking tired— he’s never been like this in his whole entire life. But it seems like Phil doesn't mind, shushing him gently as he leads Tommy out of the elevator, the two slowly walking down the hall.

Tommy can’t help the sudden sense of dread surge through him as they slowly get closer to his apartment, following along after Phil. He triers his best to keep his eyes open, though if he keeps them open for long they start to water and sting from the lights.

“Its alright, Tommy.” Phil says softly, tugging him closer, “Everything will be okay.” Phil shushes gently, and Tommy can’t help but feel everything won’t be okay.

They get to his door and Phil knocks, as Tommy whines, trying to hide his face away. He doesn’t want to see his brothers reactions to some random dude bringing him home late at night. Especially not like this.

He hears the locks click from the other side and Techno’s grumbling about him forgetting his keys again, the door swinging open.

Techno’s red eyes land on Phil’s, as he stares dumbfounded back at the man.

“Phil—“

“Techno! So nice to see you,” Phil smiles, “I see you’ve been keeping things from me.” He hums, his tone turning sharp as his grip tightens on Tommy.

“Didn’t I teach you two to share?”

Techno is silent at that, seemingly in shock, and Tommy whines, trying to move towards him. Phil doesn't let him go, though, the arm around his shoulders keeping him pressed firmly against him.

“Don’t do anything to hasty now, Phil.” Techno says slowly, “Tommy’s an innocent bystander—“

“Oh no he’s not,” Phil practically purrs, his blue eyes swirling with a smug satisfaction, “He should be dead right now for not completing the assignments given to him. Its all thanks to Tommy catching my interest that he isn't.”

“What?” Techno asks, and Tommy can’t hep but whine again, gaining both of their attention. Phil shushes him softly, gently patting his head, cooing reassurances under his breath.

“But don’t worry, I don’t plan on killing him anymore.” He says, a small smile on his face, “I see why he captured both of your attention, he is just so adorable, isn’t he? A real wild card, going off on his own, doing whatever he wants. Its admirable.” He hums, twirling his finger around one of his strands of hair.

“But, I’m putting an end to it.” He smiles wider, a dark look shadowing his eyes, “He’ll be my new son, and since he hates bringing in living souls he won’t have to ever worry about assignments ever again.” He says, his blue eyes taking in Tommy’s face, studying every little thing about him.

“He’ll be my little shadow, my kid that I have to watch over, my precious son that I cannot afford any harm to come too.”

“Phil—“ Techno tries to say but Phil cuts him off with a sharp click.

“And you two will be coming home with us, right now.” Phil says with a sharp smile, giving Techno a hard look, “Go get your brother and then we’ll leave, we can talk more when we get home.” He hums, and Techno just nods his head, moving off into the apartment to go get Wilbur.

Tommy hasn’t been able to keep up with much of the conversation, zoning in and out, his mind lagging on a couple words as he tries to understand what was happening around him. Phil turns his attention back to him, shushing him softly, the two going into his apartment and settling down on the couch.

Tommy slumps against Phil, as the man runs his fingers through his hair, humming another tune under his breath as he softly tugs on some of his curls.

“We look so alike,” He mumbles under his breath, “It must have been destiny, huh? You're perfect, Tommy. Perfect.” Phil breathes, and Tommy just grunts, sinking into the darkness.

“You can sleep now,” Phil says softly, “I’ll wake you when we get home, yeah? How does that sound. We need to get your new room set up anyways, that’ll take a couple hours. You can just sleep it all away and then you’ll wake up as if nothing happened.”

Tommy just hums under his breath, unconsciousness rising up and sweeping him under, dragging him down into darkness.

~~~~

Tommy wakes up slowly, surrounded by warmth.

He keeps his eyes closed, slowly letting himself wake up as he listens to the sounds around him, the footsteps walking around his apartment, probably Wilbur or Techno.

It isn’t until he shifts, moving onto his side does something stir within his room. He hears fabric shifting that wasn't from him, a small inhale of breath.

He freezes, wondering who the fuck was in his room. He bets it was Wilbur, the prick is always trying to scare him.

“Go away, Wilbur,” He grumbles into his pillow, hiding his head under the blankets. There’s a soft chuckle above him that was definitely not Wilbur. Tommy goes still, his mind racing as he tries to find an explanation as to why there was a stranger in his room.

It hits him all at once, Phil and Tommy hanging out down town until the man took him home, having to basically carry him the whole way because he was so exhausted. But why was he in his room—

Tommy sits up, blinking his eyes open in the dim light, his gaze landing on Phil.

He looked different, his eyes were sharp, his hair and skin were much paler then they had been before. He wears all black clothes, some weird robe things, and he has black wings on his back. Tommy gapes at him, his eyes going wide as he stares at Phil.

“What the fuck—“ He begins but Phil’s laugh cuts him off again, his eyes crinkling up in amusement.

“Hello, Tommy.” He says, sitting on the bed besides him, his wings shifting, the black feathers glinting in the dim light of the room, “How did you sleep?” He asks, and Tommy just dumbly blinks at him, before shifting his body so he was sitting up now.

“I— what the fuck? Where am I? What happened?” He asks, noting that he was not in his room. Phil didn’t kidnap him, did he? Oh fuck, where was Wilbur and Techno—

Phil just smiles warmly at him, his blue eyes swirling with a certain darkness that has Tommy shrinking away from the man.

Tommy doesn't know what was happening.

“Let me introduce myself, Tommy.” Phil sighs, closing his eyes for a moment, before he opens them, his intense gaze meeting his own.

“I am Death, little Reaper,” He smiles, and Tommy feels himself freeze, the words slowly sinking into his mind.

Oh fuck.

“Welcome to the family, mate.”