Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Tommy has been dozing off in the backseat for 20 minutes now. He isn't sure where they're going, or why. The last couple of hours blur in his mind, like some sort of mosaic. If he focuses, he can find bits and pieces, but he's tired, and he really doesn't care all that much.

The man driving him hums along to the radio, and Tommy opens his eyes, looking at him from where he's sat. He can't quite remember what the man looks like, only that he had dark hair and had pulled him along in his car with a forced type of smile.

Though, he's never been good with faces, so he could be wrong. A lot of people told him he assumed too fast, but he could hardly understand why. Being a little bit safe never hurt anybody, and assuming the worst only prepares him for the inevitable. He thinks one of the weird people in formal clothes told him that was anxiety, or some other word with too many complicated letters.

In the last 78 hours, he thinks he's been told more about himself than he has in his entire life. Or could it be 48 hours? How many days has it been? He tries counting back from today but suddenly blanks on what day it is, and what day it was when this all started, and remembers why he hasn't tried recalling what brought him here.

The car suddenly stops, and he looks out of the window to see a house, larger than the one he was living in before, and looking a lot less rundown. He doubts there are even any rats here.

The front yard, where the car is parked, is full of flowers, save for the driveway, which he can tell is gravel from the way the car rattled when they drove in. The sun is still high in the sky, which confuses him for a second, because he was sure it was at least 6, before he remembers he hasn't seen a clock since this morning when he woke up, and he isn't the best at telling the passage of time. A lot of people say he loses time, whatever that means.

The man steps out of the car, opening the door to the backseat where Tommy is sitting. Now that he's looking at him, Tommy understands why he had such a hard time remembering his face. There's really not much about him that stands out, and his blank stare does nothing to help. Tommy almost says that out loud before thinking it over.

“We're here.” And now, Tommy doesn't take that second to think it over and blurts out, ever the impulsive person,

“Oh really? I thought we were on Mars.” before promptly shutting his mouth, wide eyed, as if even he didn't expect himself to say that. The man in front of him drops the friendly smile and frowns, grabbing Tommy's bag and standing up straight, waiting for Tommy to step out of the car on his own.

Tommy gets out, closing the door behind him, before reaching for his bag, but the other man is already walking towards the front door, Tommy's bag still in hand. Tommy hurries up to follow, panting a bit as he stands behind the weird car driver. He turns towards Tommy and gives him a stern look before saying,

“We're at the Watson house. This is where you'll be staying. Remember to behave, they don't have to put up with you if they don't want to.” Before handing him his bag and knocking on the door.

There's a loud bang outside the door and what sounds like yelling, before a disheveled looking blonde man opens the door, rubbing his neck nervously.

“Oh jeez, I'm sorry mate! Techno almost dropped a bookshelf on Will trying to answer the door.” Looking behind him, Tommy can almost believe he's telling the truth. Two boys who look to be about 17 are crouched around a bookshelf, seemingly trying to shove all the books back in it as quickly as possible, one of them, presumably the one who almost got the bookshelf dropped on him, rubbing his head every once in a while and wincing.

The strange man's frown seems to deepen, before he puts on what he assumes is his equivalent of a customer service smile. He nods along to what the blonde man is saying.

“It's really no worries, mister Watson. Tommy, this is Phil Watson, he'll be your guardian from now on.” Tommy looks at the man in front of him, Phil. He's also pretty plain looking, but he has cool blonde hair that reaches his shoulders, which is how long Tommy would want his hair, if it wasn't so hard to maintain, and his smile actually reaches his eyes.

“It's nice to meet you, Tommy! Come on in, if you want, you can come meet my son's, Techno and Wilbur!” Tommy thinks those are shit names, but he keeps his mouth shut and slowly walks behind Phil, who enters his own house. The place is cozy, and it seems like the two boys are done shoveling books in the half empty bookshelf.

Phil motions towards one of the boys, who has long pink hair that reaches his lower back, atleast, and small square glasses that make him look old.

“That's Techno, he can show you around the house if you want.” Tommy looks him up and down before nodding hello. The other boy doesn't nod back, just stares at him, and Tommy shifts from feet to feet.

Phil motions to the other boy, who still looks out of it, his hair sticking up in all sorts of directions and his sweater half tucked into his pants. Tommy can see a small notebook peeking out of his pocket and wonders if he's a writer or just really weird.

“That one's Wilbur. He can also show you around, but he hasn't been here as long. Feel free to go introduce yourself!” Tommy also nods at him, and thankfully for him, Wilbur nods back. He walks towards them, bag in hand, as he watches Phil and his current personal driver walk towards the kitchen, to talk about him, he guesses.

“Ayup. I’m Tommy.” He stares awkwardly at the other boys, and just now notices that Techno has headphones on and probably can't hear him. He reaches up to tap his shoulder but Wilbur stops him.

“No need, he can hear you fine. Right, Tech?” The pink haired man nods, and tilts his head, looking at Tommy. He wonders how Wilbur knew that, though, if they've lived together for a while, it might just be because this happens a lot.

“So, want me to show you around? You can go put your bag in your room.” The deep voice startles him for a moment, and the American accent even more. So far, everyone he'd met had been shockingly British, and he had half a mind to make fun of him before he figured he should just go along with what he's being told.

“Sure, big man, no problem.” He glances at the stairs apprehensively. He's not a pussy or anything, but he doesn't like stairs. Not to complain, but going up them always made his legs hurt and his knees ache. His parents always told him to suck it up, since he was only 14, and was probably exaggerating for pity points. He swears, though, that he isn't.

Techno leads him around the house, showing him all the corridors, Phil's office, the downstairs bathroom, and stops in front of the kitchen before telling Tommy they'll go check it out once the adults are done talking. Tommy thinks it's hilarious to hear him say that, considering he already looks no younger than 20, with the glasses, but he doesn't comment on it.

Then, Techno stops in front of the stairs, and turns towards Wilbur, cocking his head towards Tommy and the stairs.

“Mind showing Tommy the second floor? I don't feel like going up the stairs right now.” Tommy looks at him, trying to figure out why he doesn't want to go up the stairs, and just barely spots a weird fabric contraption sitting on one of his knees, before Wilbur gets up from where he was sitting and walks over, with a tight smile.

“Yeah, sure, no problem. Come on, Tommy, your bedrooms up there.” Tommy can't help but scoff at some room in this house being referred to as “his room” for the second time now, and Wilbur looks at him questioningly.

He feels some weird urge to explain and starts talking, without thinking back on it. “Well, this is you guys’ house. It's not my room, it's just the room I'll be staying in until I turn 18 and stop bringing in checks.” Tommy remembers his mom telling him horror stories about the foster system, about horrible, abusive parents who only kept kids for the money. Phil didn't seem like a bad dad, sure, but he wasn't one of his kids, he was just a check to him, probably.

Wilbur widens his eyes, and glances down before saying, quietly, “Uh, Phil adopted me right before I turned 18, actually. It's not like that here.” Tommy doesn't understand why he looks so put off by his comment. Surely, if he was in foster care before getting adopted, he knew how this worked. I mean, sure he was adopted by one of his foster parents, but that's a one in a million. Surely he understood that.

Techno walks back over to them, now with a cane in hand, and Tommy can't help but think it completes his old man look. He briefly wonders why he needs a cane when he's probably barely 17, before he realises it's probably just a fashion statement. Techno turns to Wil and puts a hand on his shoulder.

“Sorry, I can show you upstairs, actually, Tommy. You can go sit down, Wil, it's fine.” His voice is deadpan, but Tommy can almost hear a whisper of care in his voice when he addresses Wil and doesn't understand why. Did he upset him? He was just explaining himself.

Techno leads him up the stairs without another word. Tommy is grateful for his cane because it makes him slower, and gives Tommy an excuse to climb the stairs as slowly as possible to avoid the pain that'll surely haunt him later.

He's sure it'll haunt him regardless, but maybe it'll be more dull this time.

As they reach the top of the stairs, Techno pauses for a second and Tommy takes that as an opportunity to question him.

“Hey, Techno? Back there, did I … did I upset Wil?” Techno looks at him for a second before nodding. Tommy stares at him, baffled. He was expecting reassurance, padded confirmation that he hadn't done anything.

“You implied Phil wasn't a good foster dad. He doesn't like when people do that.” And now Tommy is even more confused because he didn't imply he was a bad dad. Phil isn't his dad. He's his legal guardian until he turns 18. He doesn't think those two things are the same.

“Oh, uh, alright. I'll apologize later, then.” Techno nods again before he keeps walking down the hall. He points to a bathroom before turning and showing 4 rooms.

“This one,” he says while pointing a yellow painted door, “is Wilbur's room. Don't go into anyone's room without knocking, that's against the rules.”

Rules, right. Tommy will have to learn how to respect those. Like that weird man said, Phil doesn't have to deal with him. He can't mess up. He wouldn't want to end up in an actually bad family.

“That's my room,” the door is painted pink and Tommy is starting to see a pattern here, “and that's Phil's room. Most of us keep our doors closed even if we're out of our room. Don't go in anyone's room even if the door is open, though.”

Off to the side, there's one door left, the only one still painted white. “And that's the room you'll be staying in.” He notices the way Techno exaggerates the words and wonders if he's making fun of him, and suddenly he doesn't like his deadpan voice and the way he always looks him up and down.

“Are you fucking making fun of me!?” He doesn't realize he yells until Techno startles violently enough to practically throw his headphones to the ground and now he's crouching on the ground looking at his broken headphones and Tommy's still stood there saying nothing and Phil is climbing the stairs really fast and fuck how had he already gotten himself in trouble??

Phil looks at him. He can't tell if it's anger in his eyes and pity, but he doesn't like either option. Phil crouches down besides Techno and holds out both his hands, one facing up and one facing down and Tommy just stares, confused, waiting for Phil to yell at him, to tell him to go to his room.

Techno doesn't look up, but he points to Phil's hand that faces the floor and Phil stands up again. Tommy curls in on himself, preparing to be yelled at and scolded. Phil grabs his shoulder and turns him towards the white door again.

“How about you go put your stuff away, mate? Don't worry about the headphones, we can talk about what happened later.” And now Tommy is really confused, because he messed up. Where's the yelling? Surely he deserves it, he broke Techno's headphones. Sure, it was an accident, but it was still his fault, wasn't it?

Phil opens the door.

“I'll call you for dinner, alright?” And Tommy can hear Techno sniffling behind him and he feels bad, dammit, because he should be getting punished right now. He hurt Techno. He doesn't know the guy but he hurt him. That's not ok.

Tommy walks into the room and puts his bag down. He sits down on the bed. The walls are blank, the sheets are white and the blinds are brown. There's nothing interesting to look at. All he can focus on is Techno crying outside his door.

Phil had said not to worry about it. Clearly Phil didn't know anything about him because if Tommy was good at something, it was worrying.

They'd talk about it later, is what he said. Would that be when the punishment would come? Maybe Phil didn't want to yell in front of his son. He seemed to care about them a lot.

He opens up his bag. He doesn't have much on him right now. He thinks he remembers an officer telling him they'd come get the rest of his belongings soon. He doesn't remember when they told him that, but he didn't have his belongings yet.

In his bag, he has a half dead phone with a screen so cracked you could barely see what was going on, one red hoodie that was 3 sizes too big for him, a pair of wireless earbuds he'd snuck from a convenience store and right at the bottom, his pride and joy.

A sketchbook labeled “Tommy's, do not touch.” He wasn't a great artist, he'd be the first to admit, but this sketchbook had about half his life, hopes and dreams in it. He flipped to the first page. On it was an absolutely awful depiction of what might've been a dog sitting under a tree. He liked looking back at these old drawings. Most of them don't have dates, so he can only guess when he drew them.

It was nice, to see his progress and everything he's ever liked drawing over the years. For a while, all he ever drew were dogs, then he branched out and started drawing people, though that didn't last long, and finally, his latest obsession, landscapes.

They aren't particularly pretty, most of them look weird and the perspective is definitely all wrong, but he loved them. They were like pieces of his soul.

He rummages through his bag, trying to find a loose pencil. He finds one hidden in his hoodie's pockets, paired with a chewed up eraser, and gets to work. He'd put on music but he doesn't want to ask for the wifi password, he doesn't even know if they'll be ok with him having a phone yet, so he goes without. He focuses on the sound of pencil scratching against paper.

He tries to draw a beach with a sunset. It's not great and the beach looks very empty, but it's not bad, and it's definitely better than the first beach he drew, so he counts it as a win. As he's about to add finishing touches and sign his drawing, someone knocks on his door.

“Tommy? Dinner is ready.” Phil says, not quite yelling but not talking either. He hurries to put his sketchbook back in his bag and opens the door. Phil smiles at him and turns back towards the stairs, probably to go to the dining table.

He follows quickly behind, his knees protesting as he rushes down the stairs. He reaches the table and looks at where the other two are sitting. There's a chair besides Wilbur and one besides Techno. He stares at the table. He doesn't know where to sit. He upset both of them in the 30 minutes he interacted with them.

Phil walks to the table and moves a chair to be beside his own before he goes to the kitchen. Tommy sits down and he swears he will be forever grateful for this.

After what feels like forever, Phil comes back with everyone's plate. Tommy stares at the food as if it had personally offended his entire bloodline. Soup. Tommy didn't like soup. He picks up a spoon. Just the smell is enough to make him nauseous but he can't refuse food someone else cooked for him.

He takes exactly 2 bites before the texture and the smell really get to him and he hurries to the sink before puking out what he'd just ate. Phil isn't far behind him and gently puts a hand on his back as he drinks water.

“I'm so sorry, I swear I didn't mean to-” Phil cuts him off.

“It's alright, Tom. Do you want something else? I can make you a sandwich, or whatever you find in the fridge.” It's one of the sweetest things someone has ever done for him but his stomach is already fighting him and he just shakes his head no.

“I just, I still feel sick, I'm so sorry.” Phil doesn't budge, just smiles at him.

“It's no worries, mate. Feel ok enough to sit with us for the rest of dinner? I still want to talk about what happened earlier.” Shit. Tommy had almost forgotten about that. He quickly nods and walks back to the table. Techno is still eating in silence, but Wilbur is staring at him. His bowl of soup is a couple inches away from him and his spoon is set down on the table.

He hopes he didn't ruin his appetite by being sick. He's already upset people enough for today. Tommy sits back down and Phil joins him.

“Hey, Phil? Sorry, I'm not really hungry anymore, is it ok if I eat this later?” Phil looks up at his son from across the table, and something weird washes over his face when he sees Wilburs face. Techno is looking at him too, and Tommy wonders what's going on.

“Sure, mate, just make sure you actually finish it later.” Wilbur wastes no time nodding and gets up, to put away his leftovers, Tommy guesses. As he leaves, Phil turns towards him.

“So, Tommy. I heard you yell earlier. Mind telling me what happened?” Tommy was sure Techno would've told him what happened already. He doesn't know what to say.

“Oh, uh. I just, got angry?” He doesn't know how to explain it. He has fits of anger, sometimes. His parents told him it made him unbearable. They mostly left him alone, when he'd lash out, and punish him for whatever damage he caused once he was calm. The damage mostly stayed limited to a broken glass or a knocked over chair.

“Do you know why you got angry?” He does. Of course he does, but it feels so stupid now. Obviously Techno wasn't making fun of him. He was probably just trying to avoid Tommy's rants about the foster system. And instead, Tommy broke his headphones.

He's about to answer when Techno starts talking. “I accidentally said something that sounded like I was making fun of him.” Phil nods along and turns to Tommy for confirmation. Tommy nods.

“Alright. So you got upset because you thought Techno was making fun of you, that makes sense. I understand that, but I would really prefer it if you didn't yell. For now, I'll let it go,” Tommy lets out a sigh of relief because he thinks that's the first time he's ever heard that. “And don't worry about the headphones, me and Techno will go buy a new pair tomorrow. I talked to him and he isn't upset.”

He doesn't understand how Techno isn't, but he'll take that small victory. Wilbur finally walks back into the room and everyone turns to him.

“Oh, uh, sorry, I went to the bathroom while you all were talking.” And with that, the rest of the group goes back to eating. Wilbur and Techno talk a bit, with Wilbur butting in with quips and snarky comments. Tommy doesn't say anything. He thinks he's already said way too much.

Just listening to the conversation is enough. Tommy even lets himself laugh, sometimes, at Wilbur's jokes. He doesn't remember the last time he ate dinner as a family.

This isn't as a family, he reminds himself. He's not part of their family. Really, he barely knows why he's here. Someone had said something about his parents being unfit and negligent and he really didn't get to ask any questions. He doesn't miss home as much as he thought he would.

Soon enough, Phil is standing up to clean the 2 plates still on the table, and Wilbur goes to the living room to put on a movie. Techno pulls out a book from God knows where and starts reading right at the dinner table, and Tommy doesn't know where to go.

Phil walks back into the kitchen and sees Tommy sitting alone. Maybe he takes pity on him, because he leans down and says, “You can go back to your room if you want.” And Tommy wastes no time. It's not that he wasn't enjoying the silence, it's that he felt like he didn't belong in it.

He closes the door and sits back down on his bed, picking up his sketchbook. He tries adding the last finishing touches but it's late and he frankly doesn't remember the exact image he had in his mind when he started the drawing. Instead, he picks up his phone and lays down.

There's not much to do on it. He still doesn't have any wifi, and it's not like he has many mobile games. The broken screen makes playing them a hazard for getting glass in your fingers. He would know, he's tried.

He opens his camera roll and scrolls. There isn't much that's interesting. It's mostly screenshots from funny images he saw and conversations he's had in comment sections. There's maybe one or two pictures of him, sprinkled in there, but he was never a big fan of taking selfies.

He closes his phone again and puts it away. He closes his eyes for a second. It's definitely not late enough to really sleep, at least not normally, but he's had a weird day. He thinks he deserves the rest. He wraps a blanket around himself, and for a second, he almost feels at home in this place.

Chapter Text

Tommy wakes up slightly disoriented and still exhausted. And annoyed, when he realizes what woke him up was a knock on his door and a voice calling out his name.

“Tommy? I'm sorry to wake you but I need you.” Phil's voice is calm and kind, but Tommy still scowls as he gets up to open the door. He stares at the older man expectantly.

“Oh, good morning! I'm sorry, but me and Techno were about to leave to go buy his new headphones and he wanted you to come.” Tommy furrows his brows. Techno wanted him to come? Why? Was he going to pay for the headphones? Did Techno just want to spite him by buying things in front of Tommy, knowing he isn't allowed to buy anything himself?

He almost wants to say no, but he doesn't exactly have plans today, and his knees don't ache as much as he expected them to this morning. Plus, he likes car rides.

“Yeah, sure, I can come. Can I get dressed first?” Phil nods and closes the door behind him as he leaves. Tommy doesn't exactly have clothes to change into, but he pulls his hoodie out of his bag and puts it on over his shirt. It's the middle of summer, but Tommy gets cold easily, and he figures he at least looks a bit cleaner than if he was just wearing the same outfit as yesterday.

He grabs his phone and shoves it in his pockets and leaves his room, heading down the stairs when he sees that Phil isn't there anymore.

He meets the other two in the living room. Techno is dressed better than yesterday, wearing a fancy pirate-looking white button up shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and a pair of brown shorts, the outfit broken up by a very expensive looking red corset. He wonders if Techno is transgender or just really weird.

The fancy clothes are accompanied by a pair of black crutches and a lot of gold jewelry. Tommy wonders if he got injured yesterday after he went to bed. He doesn't look any different than he did yesterday. He still feels the need to ask, because he'd feel bad if he looked like he didn't care.

“Uh, are you ok? Did you get hurt?” Techno looks at him, puzzled, as if he'd just asked the dumbest question known to man.

“What? No.” And he doesn't elaborate more, and now Tommy feels stupid so he shuts his mouth and moves on. It's not his business anyways. Phil looks between the two of them before talking. Tommy stupidly interrupts him, as he notices the missing brown haired boy he'd somehow managed to upset twice yesterday.

“Wait, uh, is Wil not coming?” Phil looks at him, kindly, and gives him a little smile.

“Ah, no, he doesn't feel very well so I'm letting him rest.” Tommy nods along. That makes sense, he hadn't looked to be doing great during dinner yesterday. Though, Tommy throwing up his meal probably didn't help. He quiets down again.

“Right, so we're going to the mall to buy headphones. That's probably all we'll buy, unless you need anything, Tommy.” He wonders why he repeats himself again. He figured they'd be going to the mall, yeah. He thinks about what he might need, for a second, because he doesn't want to ask for things but, well, if he's lacking any necessities, maybe Phil will take pity and won't think he's a spoiled little kid. His mom said she spoiled him a lot.

“Uh, well, I don't really have clothes? It’d be nice to have a shirt or two, maybe.” He looks away, because while it's true, he doesn't exactly need clothes. He wears this shirt everyday regardless, but he feels like clothes might be enough of a necessity that he's allowed to ask for them.

“Oh, right, you haven't gotten your stuff yet! Of course, we can get you some shirts and some shorts, maybe some socks? I noticed you didn't have any.” He looks up, surprised, because usually if he asks for something, he definitely isn't offered more. Usually he's met with a yes or a no, sometimes a maybe, but that usually means no.

“Oh, uh, no it's fine, just a pair of shorts is ok, I wear this shirt every day anyways.” Phil looks at him strangely but nods anyway.

“Alright, well, we'll see when we get there. Now, is everyone ready?” Techno shakes his head and takes a second to put his shoes on, which Tommy now notices are fancy brown boots with useless looking straps. He doesn't move from his spot, having slept in his shoes. He never took them off, in fear of losing them.

He'd once threatened to run away, when he was 12, and his parents had taken his shoes for a week. He guessed they thought that would stop him from running away. All it did was motivate him more, so he left and walked through mud in only socks for 2 hours before someone found him and brought him home.

Now he just kept his shoes on. He preferred being ready for nothing to being unprepared. He thinks that has to do with the anxiety he supposedly has.

Once Techno's done lacing up his boots, they all head out to Phil's car. Phil settles in the driver seat as Techno folds his crutches up and lays them on the floor in the back seat before sitting down as well.

“Pain not too bad for shopping?” Tommy still doesn't get it. Techno had told him he wasn't injured, but he didn't know what else would explain the cane and crutches and Phil outwardly asking if he was in pain. Did he just not want to admit it? Maybe he just wasn't deserving of knowing anything about them yet.

“Mhmm.” Techno hums along, nodding, before leaning his head against the window. The drive isn't long, and there isn't any conversation. Techno seems settled in his bubble, and Tommy doesn't dare talk to Phil. He's sure he'd mess it up again.

Soon, the car comes to a stop in front of the mall, and Techno opens his door to get out, grabbing his crutches.

“I'll go park the car and meet you here, alright?” Techno's nod is barely noticeable, as he starts to stumble away, sitting on a bench as Phil drives away to park the car.

“Sorry uh, what's up with him? Why does he have crutches?” He feels like it's definitely impolite to ask, especially when he isn't even asking Techno directly, but he wants to understand. He feels left out and that hurts more than it should.

Phil stops the car and looks back at him, leaning over his seat. “That's not my place to say, mate. You can ask him directly, he'll tell you.” And now Tommy is staring at Phil like he just told him the earth is flat because he did ask earlier, and all he got was a ‘no’.

He nods anyway and gets out of the car, waiting for Phil to join him.

They both walk to the entrance, meeting Techno on the bench where he was sitting. The older boy stands up, catching up with them as they enter the mall. The lights are bright and suddenly the chatter of crowds catches up to him and he shuts his eyes before opening them again and following the other two.

Techno doesn't seem to be faring much better, his shoulders scrunched up and his head held low. He seems to flinch with every look someone sends his way and Tommy has half a mind to tell him he shouldn't dress like that if he didn't want attention before realizing that probably wouldn't help.

Finally, after what seems like an eternity, they reach the store that presumably sells the headphones Techno wants. The pink haired boy stumbles as they reach the entrance, and almost falls, catching himself on Phil's shoulder.

“Can I, like, go sit down?” He sounds painfully awkward even talking to his dad, and Tommy wonders if that's just his normal speaking voice. Painfully awkward seems like a pretty awful tone of voice to naturally have.

“Of course mate! Hey, Tommy, how about you go sit with Techno while I buy his headphones?” Tommy startles a bit at being addressed and nods, because he'd do anything to sit down right now. His left knee feels like it's popping out of his skin and there's a weird tension when he puts his weight down on it. It's manageable, far from awful, but it hurts and sitting down will probably help.

He follows Techno to the bench he'd probably spotted earlier when they reach this store. He sits down with a sigh of relief, putting his crutches aside, unfolding his legs in front of him before sitting down normally.

Tommy feels like now would be the best time to ask. He just wants to know. He doesn't know understand why his brain is so fixated on it, but he wants to know more about Techno. Maybe it's his cool long hair and interesting fashion or his cane and crutches or his deadpan stare or the way he explained what happened for Tommy yesterday during dinner, but Tommy trusted him. More than Phil and Wilbur, anyways.

“Hey uh, sorry if this is weird but, why do you use crutches if you aren't hurt?” Tommy notices how much more prominent his stutter becomes the more he's around this family and wonders if that's the anxiety or something else.

Techno turns towards him and tilts his head. “Because I'm disabled?” Tommy looks him up and down and opens his mouth again.

“What? But aren't disabled people usually, like..” He doesn't finish that though. He doesn't know where he's going with that. Disabled people are usually more obvious, maybe? When he hears disabled, he imagines an old man who's missing a leg, or a paralyzed woman in a wheelchair. Not a 17 year old who looks in shape and perfectly healthy.

Techno frowns and starts explaining. “Basically, my legs hurt, a lot, so I need mobility aid, so my cane and my crutches, to get around sometimes. It's because of some disorder or something, I don't really know,” Tommy looks down at his own legs and rubs his knee. “I just have a hard time getting around so the mobility aids help. That's all.”

Tommy thinks for a moment. Disabled. That made sense, then. He was in pain when he got around, so he had things to help. Tommy wonders if he could have that. He rubs at his knee again. He isn't disabled, he doesn't think so anyways, he just has a hard time sometimes. But maybe, he could talk about it with Phil. Maybe.

He thinks back to his mom. She told him he just needed to suck it up. He disagreed, because obviously Techno was in pain, and he'd never dare tell Techno to suck it up. If the crutches helped him, that was good, wasn't it? It made his life easier, he guessed.

“So, the crutches and cane like, help? So you can move around?” He just wants to confirm, he wants to be sure. Techno nods along, agreeing with a hum.

“Without my crutches or cane, I can walk maybe a mile, very very slowly, before I'm in so much pain I can't walk at all. With them, I can walk a mile and keep up with Phil and Wil, and walk another mile after that with only a bit more pain.”

The way he describes it sounds like a dream. Tommy doesn't hurt that much, he can walk probably 2 miles and be completely fine, he can run a mile and only be a bit winded. The pain always comes after. He wonders if that still counts. He's glad Techno has something to help him.

He sends him a smile and nods along before he notices Phil walking up to them, holding a box with a picture of headphones identical to the ones Techno had. He hands Techno the box, and the other boy doesn't wait a minute before ripping it open, taking the headphones out and placing them on his head.

He adjusts them, a bit, and hands Phil the box. He throws it away in a nearby trash can and gives his son a smile.

“All better now?” Techno hums again, in that deep voice of his. He wonders if it vibrates in his throat in the same way hums vibrate in Tommy's throat. He's always loved that feeling. Maybe that was why Techno hummed so much.

“I'm glad. Well, we can stop at the other store, over there, to get you some clothes, and then we can leave.” He says this while looking at Tommy, though not quite in his eyes. Tommy appreciates it, eye contact scares him a bit. Phil points to the store they'll be going to, and right next to it, Tommy spots a toy store, something he hasn't visited since he was 6, at least. Plushies are pushed in the window, and they look so soft, and Tommy spots Legos next to them. He's never wanted to go into a toy store more in his entire life.

Techno follows his eyes and also settles onto the toy store, seemingly just as enamored by it as Tommy is.

“Can we stop at the toy store first? They have a pig plushie in the window and I want it.” Techno's voice has a strange humourous edge to it as he states so confidently that he wants the pig, and Phil snorts.

“Sure, mate, we can stop there first. You also up to it, Tommy?” He's never been more up to something in his entire life. He nods enthusiastically and follows the other two into the toy store. Techno makes a beeline for the stuffed animals, and Tommy feels out of it. He definitely doesn't belong here, surrounded by younger kids and parents shopping for their children.

Phil gives him an encouraging little smile and nudges him. “C'mon, mate, go look. There's a lot of cool stuff here.” He couldn't be more right. Just standing here, Tommy has spotted at least 17 things he would die to have. He slowly moves towards the Legos, grabbing a box and looking at it. It's a Lego Minecraft set, his favorite kind. It mixes two of his favorite things, Minecraft and building stuff. Although, those two kind of already go hand in hand.

It's a smaller box, and it looks really fun. Techno, who presumably found the pig plushie he wanted, joins him. He picks up a box of his own, his being a Ninjago set, paired with the figurines of every character. He turns the box around, spotting the price, and brings it to Phil. As he's leaving, he grabs Tommy's shoulder to bring him with.

He thinks this is the first time Techno has touched him, and it feels more important than it probably is. Techno looks awkward, one hand wrapped around his crutch, the other holding a box and Tommy's shoulder, crutch still wrapped to his arm, hanging off of it. He starts following on his own, letting Techno's hand drop so it can grab his crutches once more, though the box between his hand and the handle looks like an inconvenience.

They reach Phil and Techno taps his shoulder before showing him the box he'd grabbed. Tommy notices Phil is already holding the pig plushie Techno had spotted earlier.

“Do you want it?” Techno nods and points to Tommy's box too. “Oh, alright! No worries mate, I can get those two for you both.” Tommy looks at him and furrows his eyebrows. Techno asked to buy Legos for him?

“Uh, no it's fine, I don't need them-” Phil shakes his head, and he stops talking.

“Do you want them?” Tommy hesitantly nods. He does, yes, he really wants it. But he doesn't need it, and Phil shouldn't get him things he doesn't need. Phil holds out his hand and Tommy gives him the Legos. He guesses he's going to put them back.

He takes both boxes and the pig plushie to the cashier. “Just these 3, please?” Tommy stays behind him for a moment before Techno nudges him to join him at the register. They wait a moment while Phil pays and Tommy doesn't know how to thank him. He's grateful, he is, but he hasn't been gifted anything in a long time and he doesn't know what to do.

Techno takes his plushie for a second after Phil pays. He puts his crutches aside and rubs his face against the soft fabric of the stuffed animal.

“Thank you.” And he hands the toy back to his dad. He doesn't say anything else, so Tommy assumes those are acceptable thanks for gifts.

“Thank you uh, for the Legos.” He feels awkward, because he didn't really ask for them. If anything, Techno asked for them on his behalf. Phil gives him a warm smile again. That smile is starting to imprint itself in his mind as a symbol of safety.

They finally leave the store, and Techno stands still for a few minutes. Phil walks, and stands in front of him, meeting his eyes. They stand there for a second before Phil puts up a hand in a thumbs up and Techno shakes his head.

“I'm really sorry, mate, but I think Techno doesn't feel good enough to go to another store,” Tommy can tell. His eyes look farther away and he's gripping his crutches tighter than he was earlier. “Do you mind if we come get you clothes later?”

Tommy shakes his head, because his knees are also aching, worse than they were earlier, and standing feels like a chore, let alone walk through a store.

They all slowly make their way to the exit, going at Techno's pace, who's leaning heavily on his crutches and getting help from Phil. Tommy sticks behind them, holding the Legos and plushie they got. He'd been the one to offer to hold everything. Seeing Techno struggle made something sticky and heavy settle in his chest. He doesn't know when he started trusting people so quickly, and easily.

They make it outside, and Phil guides Techno over to Tommy before heading to his car, to bring it over here. Techno leans lightly on Tommy's shoulder, as if careful not to put too much strain on him. He squares his feet and holds himself straighter.

“It's okay if you need to uh, lean more. I'm solid.” Techno snorts, but he does put a bit more weight on Tommy. His knees start hurting more, but it isn't long before Phil's car appears in front of them. Tommy manages to help Techno all the way to the car door before his legs give out and he falls to the ground.

Phil rushes out of the car, sitting Techno down before he crouches next to Tommy. His eyes are still open, he's perfectly conscious, his legs just gave up. This doesn't exactly happen often, but it's not new, either. He can recall once or twice where something similar happened, his legs giving out or his arm giving up.

“Are you ok?” He sounds a bit panicked, and even Techno is looking at him with a bit of panic in his eyes. He feels fine. He reaches out for Phil's hand and stands up.

“Yeah uh, sorry, I just lost my balance, you know, since Tech was leaning on me.” The nickname slips out with the rest of what is only half of a lie. He didn't exactly have great balance, and Techno leaning on him didn't help. It didn't help with the pain in his legs either but he didn't exactly mind.

Phil frowns but doesn't say anything, and lets Tommy get in the car as well. The drive back to their house isn't very different from earlier. They stay in a comfortable silence, with Techno occasionally wincing when the car passes a particularly violent pothole. Tommy isn't faring too well either, shutting his eyes and focusing on the noises around him to ignore the slight ache of pain rising and falling in his legs like a heartbeat.

Soon, the car pulls into the house's driveway. This time, Phil opens Techno's door and helps him out first. Slowly, Tommy follows behind, bringing the Legos and the pig stuffed animal, which Techno had left behind. He hopes the other doesn't mind him touching his things.

He makes it to the door and distantly realizes it took him longer to make it there than the actually disabled teenager. He walks through the door and puts everything on the dining table before sitting down. Techno is already sitting down at the table, resting his head against his folded up arms.

Phil is already gone, Tommy guesses he's in his office, working, whatever his job is. He was never told. He doesn't know where Wilbur is, but he hopes he's sleeping. Partly because he knows he doesn't feel well and partly because he has no idea how to talk to him. It was like the guy was afraid of everything, with his weird nervous glances. Even when he should be completely at ease, he somehow managed to flinch anytime someone addressed him too directly. He was like the poster child of paranoia. He wouldn't dare say any of that out loud. The poster child of paranoia reminded him too much of himself.

Techno, he can deal with. He messed up with him, sure, but forgiveness came quick and he might be wrong, but he thinks Techno likes him. At least to some degree. Maybe he's just imagining things, but he swears Techno was talking to him with more ease than yesterday. Maybe that's just what he wants to be true.

Speak of the devil, the older boy stares at him. He looks to be deep in thought, so Tommy doesn't say anything, as to not disturb him. Finally, the other speaks.

“What happened earlier, when you fell? Like, actually?” Oh, so he'd seen through his half assed lie. He wasn't that surprised, Techno seemed like the observant type. He looks away. He can either double down and tell him the truth or dig himself deeper in a lie.

“I don't know what you mean, I didn't lie.” It's a reflex, he doesn't want to tell him, not yet. He trusts him, yeah, but not enough. Not enough to be sure he won't mock him or tell him he's lying. Not enough to tell him.

The other looks at him, more focused than before. He stares at him. Not quite in his eyes, but he still feels uncomfortable. He feels like Techno sees through him. Like he's looking at something Tommy himself can't see. Like he's seeing everything Tommy is trying so desperately to hide from this family.

“Right. Let me know when you're comfortable sharing, then.” It's like Techno can read him like an open book. He doesn't know how. He's never been able to read people, and Techno seems so similar to him but still so different. He doesn't know how he feels about it. He feels like he should be more like Techno. He doesn't really want that.

He nods, feeling distant. He will tell Techno when he's comfortable, he will. He's sure he'll want to, eventually, and Techno would be the one to understand.

He feels like his life is moving too fast, and he's just barely gotten there. Already, something so inherently familiar was explained to him. A man nicer than his mother ever was had offered him more than he could ask for. Psychiatrists had told him he had anxiety and something else that started with an A and that told him he was messed up in one way or another. Not other people with anxiety, not other people with whatever else he had, never other people, just him. Always him. He's in no position to judge other people, but he's in the perfect position to judge himself.

The rest of the day passes in a blur. Meals pass and he doesn't think he sees Wilbur at all, not even once. He worries, distantly, but he feels far away, he feels like he's on autopilot, but not in the same way as usual. He's not acting without thinking, he's thinking after he acts, he's acting before thinking, he's not acting at all. He feels like he's the main character of a first person video game, like he's seeing through his own eyes, but not quite, like he's making every choice but from a couple inches behind, from a couple of minutes before. Like his entire life is stuttering. His entire brain is stuttering. Everything is stuttering. He tries to focus but all it does is worsen his headache. He sees his own movements a couple of moments too late.

He finally comes back to himself when the day is over, and he's already laying in bed. He almost wants to get out and ask Techno what happened during the day, or what he's said, and done. He doesn't. He just closes his eyes and hopes sleep comes easy.

He hopes he feels comfortable enough to share his problems soon.

Chapter Text

Tommy wakes up to silence. Usually, this wouldn't be abnormal, but he's not used to this house yet, and he can't remember a moment it's ever been quiet. Though, he can't remember much at all. He reaches for his phone, set down somewhere besides him, and looks at the time.

5:29, his phone reads. That explains the deafening silence, and the dark still peeking through his blinds. He closes his eyes for a moment, a useless attempt to go back to sleep. He knows himself better than that. The only times he falls back asleep after waking up are when he's sick enough to be bedridden or when there's school. He stares up at the ceiling.

He could go down to the kitchen and make himself breakfast, but he doesn't know the rules on making yourself food, or where they even keep their food. He doesn't know what he's allowed to eat, or if he should wash his dishes after or not. He decides it's safer to just stay in his room.

That is, until he hears a door opening next to his room. He remembers Wilbur's room is next to his, and he finally gets out of bed, heading to the door and peeking out. He sees Wilbur stumbling out into the hallway, rubbing sleep out of his eyes, and fully steps out of his room too.

“Good morning.” Wilbur startles and hurries to put his glasses on, staring at Tommy. Tommy grimaces, rubbing his neck sheepishly.

“Good… morning? What are you doing up this early?” Wilbur looks at him quizzically, raising an eyebrow as Tommy, who for one thinks he's a massive hypocrite.

“I could ask you the same thing!” Wilbur shushes him when he raises his voice and Tommy quickly shuts up, but not without sending the other what he thinks is a very threatening glare. Wilbur chuckles before heading down the stairs and Tommy hurries to follow.

“I just like waking up early, this is normal for me.” Tommy no longer wants to be around this man. Only psychopaths wake up before 7 am. He voices that thought and Wilbur gives a real belly laugh, before walking into the kitchen.

“Do you want anything? We have cereal, cereal, cereal, bread and some cereal.” He says, as he rummages through the cabinets by the fridge. From what Tommy can see, Wilbur's options aren't far from the truth. Half the top shelf is filled with cereal boxes, and there's two other boxes sitting on the bottom shelf.

“Jeez, uh, so many options. Guess I'll take some cereal.” Tommy doesn't really like cereal, but he can tolerate it more than soup, and it seems like his only real option for breakfast.

“Coming right up! Do you want,” Wilbur pauses, putting some boxes down on the kitchen counter. “Fruity, wheat bullshit, marshmallows or … more wheat bullshit?” Tommy takes a second to think about it before very aggressively pointing to the box of lucky charms.

“Should've known, kids love lucky charms.” Wilbur chuckles along to his words and Tommy resists jumping him.

“I am not a child! I am a big man! Very mature!” Wilbur laughs more and Tommy wants to punch that smug look off his face but he passes Tommy his bowl of lucky charms, so he guesses he'll have to do that some other day.

As he digs in, he notices Wilbur doesn't have anything to eat. He frowns and stares at him for a second.

“Are you, uh, gonna eat anything?” The words are muffled by the bite of pure marshmallows he's currently chewing, but he thinks he gets his point across. Wilbur makes a disgusted face before responding.

“Don't talk with your mouth full, child. Also,” He ignores Tommy’s pointed glare when he calls him a child. “I still feel sick, I'll eat in an hour or so, when I feel less nauseous.” Tommy nods along to his words before going back to his lucky charms. Wilbur glances to the side, a slight shake in his breath.

He picks out every marshmallow before drinking the milk left in the bowl. He stares at the leftover cereal before glancing at Wilbur, who rolls his eyes and holds his hand out towards the bowl. Tommy passes it over and Wilbur empties the soggy cereal into the trash.

“Don't worry, you're allowed to throw away food if you don't want it anymore, as long as you eat some of it.” Tommy had never had rules like that. He always had to finish his plate, even if he ended up throwing it back up. He nods again before walking out to the living room.

He idly notices that the bookshelf looks to be back in order, with every shelf organized in order of the books height. He figured that was Techno's doing, only because he seemed like someone who would love organization.

He sits down on the couch, settling on the well worn cushions. Wilbur sits down beside him, leaning back against his arms. They sit in silence for a while, as the sun rises. Tommy watches it throw the window next to the front door, leaning over the couch's armrest. Wilbur has his eyes closed, humming a tune Tommy doesn't recognize, but that has him tapping his foot along regardless. The silence is broken when Techno makes his way down the stairs, using his crutches, struggling as he finally makes it to the ground floor.

“We should have really put your room on the first floor.” Wilbur says idly, as if this is a common occurrence. Tommy looks at Techno with worry, but calms down a bit when he laughs at Wilbur's words.

“Ya think?” He says between pants, the sarcasm heavy in his voice, and Tommy chuckles. After a second, he makes his way over to the couch where the other two lay, and sits down on the armrest next to Wilbur.

“You've gotta stop sitting there, you're ruining your back. And dad's couch.” Wilbur still has his eyes closed, and Tommy wonders how he knew where Techno sat down. The eldest boy rolls his eyes, looking at his brother.

“Phil can just buy a new couch.” He doesn't comment on ruining his back. Tommy guesses they have this conversation often, with how practiced the words feel.

“But he can't buy you a new spine.” And with that, Wilbur opens his eyes, pushing up to sit straighter. He pushes his elbow against Techno's back, attempting to push him off, and Techno stands up again, moving to sit in a comfortable looking chair on the opposite side of the couch.

“Here, happy now?” Wilbur nods, a huge grin on his face, before the room falls back in comfortable silence. Watching them interact has Tommy feeling like an outsider. He guesses that is what he is, right now. An outsider listening in on a happy family. Every interaction they have feels so perfectly normal, like they're at ease with each other no matter what. Even with the slight tremble in everything Wilbur does.

From Wilbur casually calling Phil dad, to him knowing where Techno sits with his eyes closed, Tommy feels like he doesn't belong. He feels like he shouldn't be here, right now, playing pretend.

Tommy isn't sure if it's minutes or hours later, but finally, Phil walks down the stairs. He pauses when he reaches the bottom, taking in the sight of all the boys sitting in the living room in silence, before he joins them, standing by the couch.

“Have you all had breakfast?” Tommy nods and he sees Techno shake his head. Besides him, he sees Wilbur nod too, and he furrows his eyebrows.

“Right, Tech, what do you want to eat?” Phil asks, and Tommy feels like he should speak up, tell him Wilbur didn't eat either, but he feels like that'd only upset him, and, well, he did say he'd eat later. Maybe he didn't want his dad to cook if he wasn't hungry yet. It wasn't any of his business. He looks nervous, he's looking down and he keeps glancing at Phil.

He distantly hears Techno ask for bacon and eggs, before Phil glances at his crutches, sitting by the couch.

“Bad pain day?” He questions, casually, similar to how he had yesterday. He wondered if that was how Techno communicated how much he could move. He guesses it was pretty straightforward.

“Yep. My body did not like walking around so much yesterday, so now it's trying to kill me.” Wilbur laughs at his brother and Phil nods.

“Well, feel free to stay sitting here then, if your body is trying to kill you.” He has a light smile decorating his face, and he walks out to the kitchen, presumably to cook breakfast for Techno.

The silence only drags on for a minute or two before they're interrupted by a knock on the door. Wilbur is quick to stand up, yelling quickly to Phil to let him know he's got it. Tommy peers over the couch and sees that weird man again. Wilbur exchanges a few words with him before he comes back to the couch, though he doesn't sit down.

“Your stuff is here, Tommy! Want to come grab it yourself or can I bring it in?” Tommy's eyes widen. He hadn't expected everything to get here so soon, though he wouldn't be surprised if his mother threw his stuff in boxes as soon as he was driven away from their house. She didn't want him running away, sure, but it's not like she had ever wanted kids.

The thought of getting up feels like a death sentence, so he tells Wilbur he can bring it in himself. He feels a bit guilty, but Wilbur looks to fine with the request, bringing in 3 boxes stacked on top of each other.

Tommy stares at the boxes for a moment. He could've sworn he had more stuff, stuff that wouldn't fit into 3 boxes small enough to be carried by a scrawny teenage boy. Techno turns to look at the boxes, then at Tommy.

“Do you need any help unpacking? I can help, if you want.” Tommy also shakes his head, reflexively, because he doesn't want to bother Techno, but he's offering, and if he trusts anyone, it's Techno. Plus, help would be nice. He might not have much, but it's enough to be a pain to unpack alone.

“Yes, please. Uh, thanks, Tech.” Wilbur, who's sitting down again by now, raises an eyebrow at the nickname. Tommy lowers his head, slightly, because he isn't close enough with him to use nicknames yet, but Techno doesn't even blink, nodding.

“Breakfast is ready!” Phil hands Techno a pink plastic plate with bacon and eggs on it, as well as some toast. The smell is nice, and Tommy almost wants to ask for some as well, before remembering he hates eggs and ate barely 2 hours ago.

“Right, well, I've got work to do, but you boys enjoy your morning!” Phil walks away, towards the room under the stairs that Techno had called his office. He doesn't know what his job is yet, and he's only half curious.

Techno starts eating, and idle chatter replaces the silence. Inside jokes are traded and Tommy stays silent for a while, but eventually, the conversation turns to animals, and Tommy finally feels confident enough to step in.

“I mean, I like fish, you know, salmon are great, but the ocean is scary!” Wilbur rambles on, after Techno had teased him about almost drowning last summer, when they went to the beach together.

“Aren't coral animals? I swear I've, uh, heard that somewhere.” Wilbur stares at him, baffled and Techno furrows his eyebrows.

“That can't be right.” Techno mutters, a disturbed look on his face, before Wilbur butts in.

“No, see, I like coral, I just don't like algae.” Tommy nods along and Techno rolls his eyes.

“Uh, I don't think anyone likes algae, big man.” Techno looks up at that, interjecting.

“I do. I think algae is cool.” Tommy squints at him and Wilbur turns to him, mouthing something along the lines of ‘this guy'. Tommy chuckles, speaking up again.

“You are so strange, Tech. You should not be allowed rights.” Wilbur laughs at that, doubling over as Techno stares at him blankly. He grins back, watching as the older boy takes a bite of his food.

“Ableism right there.” Tommy raises an eyebrow at the word, not knowing what it means. Wilbur finally catches his breath and notices his confused expression.

“Not everyone knows your big words, Tech! Ableism is like, sexism but against disabled people.” Tommy looks at him, bewildered, for the explanation, but nods along regardless.

“I don't, uh, think you liking algae is because you're disabled, Techno. I think that's because there's something wrong with you.” Wilbur doubles over in laughter again, and Techno huffs.

“You never know, maybe the pain in my knees made me really like seaweed.” Tommy raises an eyebrow and crosses his arms.

“You liked seaweed before your knees started hurting, don't lie to him.” Wilbur butts in between bouts of laughter and Techno glares at him before finishing his meal. Once his plate is empty, he stands up with less difficulty than earlier and walks to the kitchen without his crutches. He comes back empty handed and stands by the couch for a minute.

“So, wanna go organize your stuff, Tommy?” He seems to be in less pain than earlier, so Tommy stands up, nodding along, and grabs his boxes from off the floor. His knees protest when he crouches down but he picks them up regardless, turning to the stairs before remembering Wilbur.

“Uhm, do you want to help too?” He doesn't particularly want Wilbur touching his things. It's not that he distrusts him, he just doesn't trust him enough. Wilbur probably wouldn't steal or break anything, even on accident, but he could judge him for what he owns, and just the thought of him touching the things he holds dear make his skin crawl a bit.

He shakes his head and a weight lifts from Tommy's shoulders, as he heads up the stairs. Techno follows, though a couple steps behind, taking a second or two after each step.

Tommy makes a beeline for his room, putting the boxes down on the floor and opening the door. He doesn't bother picking the boxes up again, pushing them through the door with his feet before he sits down on his bed. Techno stands awkwardly in his doorway for a second before he sits down.

“So, where do we start?” Techno stares blankly at the boxes on the floor and Tommy reaches down to the first one on top. He opens it, digging his nails into the tape, making a satisfying crack sound as the tape rips.

The box is full of clothes and he hands it to Techno. He opens the box beneath it, and finds trinkets and books.

“I'm gonna fold them and seperate the pants and shirts.” Techno doesn't wait for Tommy to approve his plan, already pulling out a shirt from the top of the box and folding it before setting it aside. Tommy nods and starts taking the items out of the box.

He piles up books, some of which he hasn't seen since he was younger, 6 or 7 at the oldest. Then, he puts aside trinkets, mostly gifts from old friends or distant aunt and uncles. He finds some figurines from shows and movies he barely remembers, and a lonesome pair of sunglasses.

He glances at Techno and see's he's already halfway through the box of clothes he'd set out to organize, so he opens the last box and finds old sketchbooks, some spare school supplies and a crumpled up lunchbox, at the very bottom. He frowns.

“This uh, isn't all my stuff. Like, uh, at all.” Techno looks over to him and frowns too, looking over everything Tommy had pulled out of the boxes.

“I figured, there isn't much.” Tommy nods and starts unfolding his old lunchbox, and opens his pencil case. Techno is looking over his shoulder, still frowning.

“We could ask Phil to call, to see if there's any reason they only brought this? Maybe there's more coming later.” Tommy shakes his head. He doubts it. He didn't have much to begin with, but he knew stuff was missing. And he knew where it probably ended up. In a dumpster, thrown away by his father, who always told him he didn't need stuffed animals or toys at his age.

“No, it's alright, this is, uh, honestly most of it. Uhm, nothing important is missing!” Techno doesn't look convinced, but he drops it, going back to folding clothes. Tommy holds back tears, because crying in front of anyone is embarrassing, no matter how much he trusts Techno already.

Tommy continues sorting the things he finds in the box, and eventually they're both done, sitting in silence. Tommy doesn't know what to say. He feels a bit pathetic for being upset about losing stuffed animals and childhood toys, he's 14 for God's sake.

Eventually, Techno addresses him. He's been sitting in silence for a while now, without moving, and he turns towards Tommy.

“Do you want to put everything away yourself, or?” He knows what Techno's really asking. ‘Do you want me to leave?’. He doesn't. He doesn't want to talk, exactly, but he doesn't want Techno to leave.

“Not uh, now. Can you, maybe uhm, stay?” He stares off into space for a second. Techno doesn't move from his spot, just gives a quick nod. They keep their comfortable silence.

Tommy gets up and starts putting his stuff away. He said he didn't want to do it now, but what he really meant was that he didn't want to do it alone. He grabs piles of clothes and puts them in the dresser in his room. He doesn't follow a particular order, despite Techno folding them all in separate piles. There's a dull hint of guilt in his dismissal of Techno’s organization but he didn't like separating his clothes, and Techno wouldn't be the one seeing his drawers anyways.

He grabs some trinkets, putting them on his dresser and on the desk next to his bed, along with evenly distributed lined up books to avoid them falling over. As he keeps storing away his very limited possessions, focusing on his task as much as possible to keep tears at bay, Techno addresses him.

“You know, if something's wrong, you can tell me. I get it if you don't trust me much, since you haven't known me long, but,” He pauses for a second, and Tommy thinks. Very quickly, because Techno starts talking soon after, but he thinks that he could tell Techno if something's wrong. He would. “I want to help where I can. Just, because I want to.”

Tommy doesn't know how to explain it, but that had been the most genuine offer of help someone had ever given him. It wasn't offering help out of obligation or perceived obligation. It was because he wanted to. Because he felt like he could handle it.

“That's uh. Thanks, Tech.” He doesn't even pay the nickname any mind. Techno doesn't mind. This is how things are allowed to be. He's allowed to like Techno, and to trust him. He continues putting his things away, walking between his bed and his desk and dresser. He puts away figurines and folds the sunglasses up, putting them on his desk, next to the books.

Techno keeps up the steady silence, occasionally humming loose tunes that sound similar to the ones Wilbur hums. Tommy turns slightly towards Techno, a questioning look on his face.

“What uhm, what song are you humming?” Techno turns to look at him and tilts his head. He hums again before answering.

“It's a song Wilbur wrote. You could ask him about it.” Tommy's eyes widen. Wilbur wrote songs? It made sense, he had the look of an artist. Tommy wouldn't be able to explain it, but he did. The tortured poet stereotype, just a bit too tall and skinny, with sweaters in summer and round glasses. And his constant panic didn't help. Though, maybe that was mean.

“That's uh, cool.” As he finishes placing trinkets on his desk, he walks back to his bed, sitting down besides Techno. His knees crack, followed by a dull ache, and Tommy turns towards Techno. If he could tell anyone, it would be Techno.

“Uhm, hey, Tech? Remember when you explained to me that you were uhh, disabled, yesterday?” Techno nods, not turning to look at him. Tommy follows up quickly. “Well uhm, I think I might be too? Uhm, disabled, I mean? Maybe.” Techno still doesn't turn to look at him, instead humming again.

“Alright. Let me know when you want to tell Phil. And let me know if you ever need anything for pain.” Tommy nods again. Silence returns, with a slight awkward edge this time, and Tommy gets up, opening his door.

“Uhm, can we go watch tv? Like, uh, until lunch time?” Techno finally meets his eye, if only briefly, and gets up too.

“Of course.” He takes the lead, walking a few steps in front of Tommy, heading down to the living room. As they leave Tommy's room, Tommy hears the faint sound of guitar from Wilbur's room. It sounds like the song he had been humming that morning.

Then, he hurries to follow Techno back down to the couch. He sits beside the older boy on the couch, and lets him pick up the remote to put on something to watch. He scrolls through Netflix, before pausing on a soft looking animated movie. Tommy squints to read the title on the faraway screen.

‘Howl’s moving castle.’

Techno tilts his head in Tommy's direction quickly, as if asking for his opinion. Tommy nods, still looking at the screen. The other presses to play the movie and sits back, tossing the remote aside.

It doesn't take long for Tommy to be completely focused on the movie, trying intently to follow the plot, which he somehow keeps losing. His eyes drift to the background and he misses another important plot point, so he tries to concentrate on the characters on screen again. The movie is over before Tommy can even finish processing the first hour of the film.

As the credit begins to roll, he turns towards Techno, wide eyed. Techno shoots him a smile, turning to look back at him.

“Woah.” Techno nods, as if agreeing with his surprise. Right as he's about to elaborate, The door to Phil's office opens, and the man comes stumbling out, rubbing his eyes.

“Hey, boys. It's lunch time, if one of you wants to help me make a couple sandwiches.” Tommy is about to shake his head before he remembers his manners. Refusing to help someone isn't polite, especially when that person is asking for help. Though, Tommy doesn't think he could handle standing for 10 minutes or more, just making sandwiches. That implied not moving around much, just standing up, and having to touch gross food.

Beside him, he sees Techno shake his head, leaning his head back against the couch, and Tommy almost lets out a sigh of relief before shaking his head too. If his own son didn't help him, it was probably fine if Tommy didn't either. He slowly waits for Phil's reaction, half expecting him to tell them to come help anyways, instead of being lazy, but Phil just shoots them a smile and heads to the kitchen.

Techno grabs the remote again, fiddling between shows for a moment before settling on another animated series, this time not asking Tommy for input before pressing play. The episode starts, and Tommy focuses on the tv.

His mind wanders, as the episode continues on, and he isn't sure he understands even one singular thing happening on screen currently. His thoughts keep circling around the pain in his knees, slowly getting worse, pulsing and throbbing, like a beating heart with every flash of pain. He's sure he's grimacing, with how Techno glances at him every couple of minutes, but the pain is starting to become horribly distracting, and he can't focus on masking his expression. The switch from manageable pain to absolutely unbearable pain is so sudden, he can't even trace back to what could've possibly made his knees hurt so much, except maybe carrying those boxes earlier, and walking around his room to put away his trinkets.

Suddenly, he's broken out of his thoughts by Techno tapping his shoulder lightly. He turns towards the other, wincing at the strain it puts on his legs to twist his spine towards Techno.

“Are you alright?” It's a simple question, and Tommy is about to simply say he is and move on, but he pauses. Techno knows, he could tell him. He'd said Tommy could tell him if something was wrong, and Tommy believed he was being honest. So instead, he takes a deep breath and shakes his head.

“My uh, knees. They really uhm, hurt. A lot.” Techno nods before turning towards the bookshelf. Tommy furrows his eyebrows before the pulse of pain comes back, making him wince again and turn away to lessen the strain on his legs.

“Here, these are pain meds. They work pretty well, so that should help a bit.” Tommy looks at the offered pill. It's a simple white tablet, Tommy assumes it's something over the counter that Techno takes to help with his pain. He holds out his hand and Techno puts the medication in it. He looks at it again before glancing at the coffee table, where there's a glaring lack of water.

Techno seems to realize this too because his eyes widen and he calls out Phil's name.

“Hey Phil? Could I have a glass of water? My knees really hurt so I'm taking my pain meds.” Phil shouts back a vaguely affirmative sound, quickly walking into the living room with a half empty glass of water. He glances down at Tommy's hand, where he's clearly holding the pill, not Techno, but he doesn't say anything, just putting the glass down on the table before going back to the kitchen.

Tommy reaches out for the water and quickly swallows the pill. He half hopes the pill will work instantly, even if he knows that isn't how it works. His knees keep aching, but at least now he knows it'll end soon enough.

He turns his attention back to the still playing episode of the series Techno had picked earlier. As the episode goes on, Tommy's pain starts to dull, and he manages to actually start to focus on the plot of the show for a while before he's distracted again by Phil coming back with two sandwiches.

“Tommy, I just made yours ham and cheese, I hope that's ok. I can make another one if you want.” Tommy hums along, taking the offered plate, not asking for something else. He's perfectly ok with ham and cheese, it's a classic, no way to go wrong with it. Beside him, Techno also takes the plate Phil offers, setting it down on the coffee table.

“Living room lunch day?” He questions, to which Phil nods, so Tommy guesses this isn't a common occurrence, or at least it's not the normal way lunch goes. Phil walks back to the kitchen, walking out with another plate and going up the stairs, probably to go give Wilbur his sandwich.

The rest of lunch passes in a breeze, watching more shows with Techno. The sandwich is good, as he predicted, and Techno even offers to take his plate back to the kitchen when he's done, which Tommy accepts gratefully. It's the type of day Tommy loves, the ones that pass by quickly, with no notable moments but with nice memories nonetheless.

He spends a couple more hours with Techno, switching between conversation and watching television. At some point, Wilbur joins them, watching some shows before asking Techno to switch to documentaries about animals, much to Technos exaggerated dismay. As the documentary is about to end, Phil comes to tell them dinner is ready, and they manage to convince him to let them keep watching their documentary for the 5 minutes remaining.

Tommy allows himself to talk with everyone during dinner, and even joins in on what is apparently their weekly movie night. They watch a live action movie, which is a change of pace from Technos apparent favorite genre: animation. Tommy couldn't quite recount the plot of the movie, but he remembers a group of boys, and something about an alien, or a robot, or maybe both.

It's a nice movie, and he sees Wilbur crying when it ends. They stay there for a couple dozen more minutes, chatting about nothing and everything while Phil picks up blankets and stray pillows that ended up on the floor, where Wilbur chose to sit, much to Tommy's judgment.

Then, Techno announces it's getting late, and he heads back to his room. Slowly, everyone else heads back to their room too, until Phil and Tommy both go back to their rooms too.

“It was nice to spend time with you and the other boys, Tommy. I hope you had fun.” Tommy nods enthusiastically before opening the door to his bedroom and heading inside, immediately dropping on his bed.

As he lays there, he finally lets himself notice the lack of stuffed animals, and his missing blanket that he got as a baby, the one with his name stitched on it, that he'd been handed when he was barely a couple days old by his aunt, the one he hadn't seen in ages. He lets himself realize how empty his bed feels, how much he misses his old house, and he lets himself cry.

Chapter Text

From the moment Tommy wakes up, he knows it'll be an awful day. He's woken up by a ridiculously loud alarm coming from Wilbur's room, and he barely gets to press his pillow against his ears before he hears Techno yelling at Wilbur from his room.

He throws the pillow off, already giving up on peace and quiet, and barges out of his room, the door hitting the opposite wall as he walks out. He immediately turns towards Wilbur's room, knocking on his door as aggressively as possible. Finally, the alarm turns off and he lets out a sigh of relief and hears a similar sentiment from Technos room.

As he turns back towards his room, he hears Techno walk out in the hallway, and hears Wilbur apologizing profusely through the door. Techno gives him a crooked sort of smile before he walks into Wilbur's room.

He sits back down on his bed after closing his door and leans back against the pillow still left on his bed. As he tries to settle down again, after being so rudely woken up, he hears soft conversation from Wilbur's room. He makes an effort to tune it out before he hears his name.

“Listen, Tommy is - and I know - but I just feel - and he just barely - here.” The sentence is muffled and some words are lost to Tommy but he understands the basic idea. He just got here and Wilbur is talking behind his back. He doesn't know about what, but he is.

“Tommy is a great kid, he's just - and I like him, alright? That has nothing - do with you.” Technos words are clearer on account of him talking louder, and he gives a small smile at Techno defending him. At least he knows Techno is on his side.

“He just got here, Tech! He's not your brother, I'm your brother! Stop treating him better than you treat me!” Wilbur's voice rises in octave, almost shouting, and Tommy hears clear as day what he's saying. He leans away from the wall when the voices quiet down again, and go back to being muffled.

Wilbur's right. He isn't Technos brother. He can hope to be, one day, or hope Techno sees him as his brother, but he isn't. He's an intruder in this family, and now he feels silly for getting comfortable so quickly.

He curls his legs against his chest, holding them close. He shouldn't act like these people are his family. He should hold himself apart. He can trust Techno, and tell him if something's wrong, but he doesn't need to seek him out, or seek any of them out.

He's always been fine on his own, that won't change because a 17 year old boy is nice to him. Nothing will change him, he just has to keep his good habits. He can cook for himself and he can keep himself occupied and he doesn't need to be with them. If he's invited to something, he'll go, but no more asking directly to spend time with Techno. And no more nicknames either, he can call him by his name, like a normal person would.

He nods to himself. Yeah, he can do that. He won't suddenly be an ass but he'll tone it down. All the family stuff can go down the drain. He just likes them and trusts them. Nothing more to it.

He doesn't move. He doesn't know what time it is, but he doesn't want to have to face Wilbur, or Techno. He was sure he and Wilbur had gotten along, yesterday, he was sure they were fine, that Wilbur liked him. Maybe he read it wrong, maybe he didn't understand the cues, the meaning behind words, the way he always did. He always misses the important cues, the important hints. He can't fucking read between the lines when he doesn't know where the lines are.

He stays in his room well after the sun fully rises. The light shines through his blinds, filling the room in a way that might've been beautiful if he hadn't felt so fucking miserable. Maybe, on a good day, he would've tried to draw this, and he would've laughed at how horrible it came out. Today isn't a good day.

The more he thinks about heading out and talking to them as if he wasn't a member of this family, just an intruder, the more he wants to never talk to them again at all. He thought it'd be fine, that it'd be an easy task, but the more he thinks about it, the more daunting it seems.

Because sure, it hadn't been conscious, but he's been acting at home. Hell, he calls this room his room now, his bed, his desk, his fucking house, his family. His family. The family that didn't want him. At least, Wilbur didn't want him, and he'd been here longer than Tommy, he'd been Phil's son and Technos brother longer than Tommy had even lived here. What right did he have to butt in and act like he belonged?

Someone knocks on his door. He almost doesn't answer, but he ends up calling a faint sound of acknowledgement, and his door swings open. Wilbur stares at him for a second before he starts speaking.

“Uh. Lunch is ready. You missed breakfast so dad asked me to come get you.” Tommy just nods, and Wilbur leaves without much more than that. Not even a response. He thinks he should be sad, but he's just angry. He's just angry that Wilbur would get his hopes up so high only to fucking crush them so easily.

He gets up and heads down to the dining room. He's angry, he's livid. He wants Wilbur to feel bad. He wants to make Wilbur feel bad. He feels guilty but something so filled with hatred boils inside him. He feels like he's an awful person for wanting to hurt someone who just yesterday he was so nice to.

He feels like exactly what everyone told him he was. A goddamn freak. A fuck up. A mistake. He sits down with everyone and eats lunch. It's bland sandwiches that he scarfs down without even a word. It isn't exactly unusual, so no one says a thing, but Wilbur glances up at him after every couple of bites and almost glares at him when he states he isn't hungry after eating a little over half his sandwich.

They both get up at the same time to put their dishes in the sink. They don't say a word. They walk back into the living room and Tommy only furrows his eyebrows when Wilbur follows him upstairs and heads into the bathroom. There's a bathroom downstairs, which Wilbur obviously knew, he lived here, so he's confused about why he'd go all the way up here. He's about to just let it go and go to his room but he hears something.

The sound of gagging. And someone throwing up. It's a sound he knows. He'd heard it before, multiple times, mostly in his own house, from his mom, hiding in the bathroom after meals. And he doesn't know why he does it, he doesn't know why he wants to, but he rushes downstairs and tells Phil that Wilbur is throwing up in the upstairs bathroom. He walks back up with him, he stands back when Phil forces the door open when Wilbur refuses to leave the bathroom, he presses his back against a wall when they start yelling.

He doesn't know if he wanted to get back at Wilbur or if he just cares for him, regardless of everything, and wanted to help, but he regrets it either way, because now Wilbur is staring at him and yelling at him and he can't even hear it, he just watched his mouth move, everything falls to deaf ears, until four, crystal clear words ring out.

“I fucking hate you!”

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Techno, standing at the top of the stairs, frozen in place, he sees Phil rush towards Wilbur when he starts trying to grab Tommy's shirt, but Tommy doesn't move. He doesn't move a muscle, doesn't even breathe. Wilbur fucking hates him. Of course he does. It makes sense, Tommy just ratted out what is probably his biggest secret, after what, four days of being here? And now they're going to send him away because obviously they are.

Techno walks up beside him and tries to put a hand on his shoulder. Tommy almost punches him but he settles for pushing his hand away. Techno pulls away, takes a step back and just sits there, staring at him. Tommy stops registering what's going on around him. There's still yelling, his ears are ringing, something is being thrown around, a phone number is being dialed. He crouches, sits on the floor, and Techno sits with him. He's wearing his headphones and, after a bit of hesitation, he takes them off and places them on Tommy's head. Tommy doesn't stop him, he just watches him do it.

Techno hands him his phone, open on Spotify, and lets him pick a song. Tommy stares blankly, because he doesn't know what he wants right now, he can barely even remember who he is and where he is, he definitely can't choose a song. Techno pulls his phone away and puts a song on himself. It's something familiar that Tommy can't quite put his finger on. There's no lyrics, it's something comforting.

He just rocks back and forth. Eventually, Wilbur is restrained by Phil, someone walks in, Tommy doesn't know who. People in uniform, maybe, he doesn't know. He can't tell. His vision blurs, and he doesn't know if it's because he can't breathe or if it's because he's crying or a mix of both.

He leans his head against Technos shoulders, and the other lets him. He feels like he just made a mistake he'll never recover from. He feels like everything is wrong. Like everyone hates him. His eyes feel heavy, and he's so tired, and Techno wraps an arm around him. He just lets himself fall asleep. He doesn't try to stay awake. It isn't worth it.

He wakes up a couple hours later, he guesses, in his bed. He's alone, and he can't hear anything. He starts panicking and his breathing picks up. He gets up immediately, and leaves his room. He rushes down the stairs and sees Techno, Phil and Wilbur sat in the living room and suddenly he wishes he hadn't rushed down the stairs because they all turn towards him and he wants to disappear. He prays for the floor to swallow him whole when Techno starts talking.

“Uh. Hey Tommy. Did you just wake up?” He nods along and tries to meet Wilbur's eyes. Will looks away and Tommy immediately knows this won't go anywhere he likes. Everyone's quiet for a second, like the world was put on pause, before Techno speaks again.

“We should probably talk.” Tommy nods again because he really isn't sure what else to do. Cry? Yell? Run away? It all seemed so dramatic. He had no right to be upset when he was the one who ruined everything.

He reaches the bottom of the stairs and sits on the couch beside Phil. He just looks down at the floor, he doesn't think of much. He feels stupid. He just waits for them to tell him when he’s leaving, waiting for Phil to tell him that he needs to pack his stuff again, after unpacking it just yesterday, but they don’t say anything at all. He waits and waits and they just stare at him. It’s only when his vision blurs that he realizes he’s been crying, or at least on the verge of crying since he sat down.

“Do you need a minute?” It’s still Techno’s voice. Apparently no one else wants to talk to him, apparently Will can’t look him in the eyes, apparently even Phil’s seemingly unending kindness has its limits, and Tommy has found it. Even Techno’s voice is shaky, and Tommy can’t tell if it's because he’s nervous or because he doesn’t want to talk to him either. He hopes he’s just nervous. Tommy shakes his head. He just wants this conversation to be over already, he wants them to tell him to go pack his bags, so soon after unpacking them, and to go wait outside for someone to come get him.

They don’t say anything, but Tommy knows it’s coming. He fucked up their life, like he fucks up everything. He was just hoping he would last another day or two with them, before they realized he was bad news. Or maybe everything’s been going fine, and he’s just emotional, and irrational. The way everyone is staring at him with pity tells him the first option is closer to the truth.

“Alright, well uh, first of all, no ones mad at you, ok?” Tommy looks at Techno, because he knows that’s a lie. Wilbur is mad, at least, and has been mad at Tommy since he got here. He had good reasons to be mad. Tommy exposed his secret, and tried to replace him. He probably did more, to fuck up his life, but he can’t remember right now. His memory is fuzzy, and everything seems to be going in and out of existence.

He tunes back into the conversation.

“We have to send Wilbur somewhere. It’s for his safety, and it has nothing to do with you, alright?” Phil is the one talking now, and his voice is soft. Tommy tries to focus. They’re sending Wilbur away? That makes no sense. He’s the one who fucked up, not Wilbur. He takes in Wilburs face, and his eyes. They’re sad.

“It's uh, kind of like rehab? But not quite. I’m sorry, Tommy. For what I said.” Tommy nods again. Wilbur is apologizing. He’s apologizing, which means Tommy isn’t the one being blamed for this. He focuses on the first part of the sentence. He knows what rehab is. And he knows it doesn’t work. He remembers. His parents had been there, before he was born, and their friends had been there after he was born. It never helped. It never did anything good. They always just came back with more friends, and new bags full of bottles, and lighters, and things Tommy was told to stay away from. Not because it was dangerous for him, but because it was expensive.

He hoped the place Wilbur was going to was better. He hoped it would actually help him. He deserved help.

“I didn’t mean anything I said, ok? I need you to know that. I promise. I was just, angry, ok?” Wilbur is looking at him, with pleading eyes, and Tommy wants to say something, but he just can’t. His mouth locks up, and words jumble themselves in his head. He can’t find a coherent sentence, to say that he’s still upset, or that he forgives him, or that he doesn’t. Nothing comes out, and his mouth dries up, and he just looks at Wilbur, helpless, when tears well up in his eyes.

“Please just say something!” He can tell Wilbur is crying, and he can’t fully grasp why, but Techno is walking towards him, and helping him up and off the couch, and guiding him away from the living room, where Phil is holding Will by the shoulders, and softly rubbing his back.

Once they reach the kitchen, Techno finally talks.

“Sorry, sorry, he’s just emotional. Uh, I shouldn’t tell you this, but this happened before. When he first got here, and when I first got here. It’s not your fault at all, alright? That’s what I thought when I first got here, but it’s never anyone’s fault. Remember that. Phil will fix it up, and he’ll get better and come back-” Techno is rambling, and he’s clearly anxious, stumbling over every couple words. Tommy doesn’t interrupt him, both because the words still stick in his throat, and because his rambling is calming. Every word calms Tommy’s worries, at least a little bit. It’s not entirely his fault, because this happened when Techno got here too, and Techno isn’t a fuck up like Tommy. Techno is good. Tommy can gather that much, just from the way he acts.

He sits down on a kitchen chair, and Techno keeps rambling. It turns from Wilbur to the center where he’s going, to how it’ll help him. Tommy can tell Wilbur has gone there before, from how familiar Techno is with how it’ll help Wilbur. Tommy can also tell Techno has been there before, at least once, with how familiar he himself is with it. He hears shuffling from the living room, and Phil walks in.

“Wilbur went to pack his things. I called while you were sleeping, I’ll drive him over there once his bags are done.” He pauses and looks at Tommy. “I know this is probably hard on you, but it won’t affect your stay here, I promise. He’ll be back before school starts.” Tommy tries to calculate that in his mind. He figures Wilbur will be gone at least a week, maybe a month. He hopes it’s only a week.

He nods along and turns back to Techno, who had stopped his rambling. He sees him lean towards Phil and whisper something, to which Phil nods understandingly and turns back towards Tommy. He gives him a warm smile and says something Tommy doesn’t fully understand.

“Are you nonverbal?” Tommy stares, confused, because he’s never heard that word before. And he has no clue what it means. He turns to Techno, hoping for an explanation, and finds him searching for the right words to explain it.

“Are the words like, stuck in your throat? And you can’t get them out?” Tommy nods, wearily, because he doesn’t like where this is going. Is this something he could get punished for? Or reprimanded for? Will he be told he’s being rude? He barely understands what’s going on, just recognizes that he’s felt like this before, and it warranted a punishment from his parents.

Phil isn’t similar to his father, not at all, but Tommy couldn’t be sure. He could never be sure. He had to stay on edge. He always had to stay on edge. Techno starts talking again, as if sensing his nervousness.

“I’m uhh, selectively mute. You probably don’t know what that means, but you know how I’m talking now, but, the other day, we went to the store, and I wasn’t talking? I was just nodding and pointing and sometimes Phil did weird gestures?” He pauses, to give Tommy the time to respond. Tommy nods, because he remembers that, and he remembers being confused, but it wasn’t his business. It never is. “Right, yeah, so I just switch between both. Depends, I won’t get into the details, but. You have nothing to worry about, Phil knows how it works.”

Tommy just nods, and it seems that's all he knows how to do right now. Nod and shake his head and barely process anything people say. He’s frustrated. He has thoughts he desperately wants to share but can’t, and he feels ridiculously helpless. He wonders if this is how Techno felt, when they went to the store. But he seemed to have such an easy time getting his feelings and thoughts across to Phil, and Phil seemed to understand every subtle movement. Tommy hopes he gets to have that, with someone, one day.

His thoughts get interrupted by Wilbur walking into the kitchen, with a backpack held tightly in his hands. Phil turns to look at him and turns back towards Tommy.

“Right, I’ll go drive him to the center. It won’t be long, I’ll be back in 10 minutes or so. Don’t wreck the house!” It’s said as a casual joke, so Tommy laughs when Techno does, and watches the two walk out of the room and towards the door.

Techno sits down on a kitchen chair beside him and sighs. He glances at Tommy, for a moment, and looks towards the stairs. Tommy waits, because he knows a question is coming, or something similar.

“Could you get my cane? It’s upstairs, in my room. Should be next to my bed.” Tommy stares for a second, at the prospect of seeing Techno’s room, and then nods and gets up. His knees try to protest, but he needs to get Techno’s cane. Because without it, Techno can’t move around very well, and moving around is important. And Tommy doesn’t want to be useless. He climbs the stairs, slowly, and opens the pink door, that he knows leads to Techno’s room. It looks exactly how he expected it to.

There’s his crutches in a corner, and his cane leaning on his bed. The walls are almost golden, and there’s swords hanging on the walls. It looks fancy, and Tommy is scared to touch anything. He reaches for the cane and quickly walks out, carefully closing the door behind him before rushing down the stairs to give it to Techno, despite his body arguing against it. Techno thanks him and gets up, leaning on the table and his cane.

“I’m going to watch a movie. Feel free to join me.” Tommy thinks about it for a second before climbing the stairs again up to his room. Techno doesn’t comment, just sits down on the couch. Tommy gets to his room, and pauses for a second to catch his breath, before grabbing his sketchbook and his pencil case, before going back down. He crashes down on the couch, his legs finally giving out after all the running around. Techno turns to glance at him before turning back to the movie.

It’s something animated again, except this one is more obviously aimed at kids, not like the movie they watched last night. The animation is familiar, and Tommy knows he’s seen the movie before, but he couldn’t remember when. He gently places his sketchbook on his legs, taking out the same pencil he always uses, and an eraser. He starts sketching out a house, and then erases it to draw a dog. He’s finally done with the sketch when Phil walks in, alone and looking sad. Tommy stares at him, before he looks away, to avoid Phil calling him out on it.

“Hey boys.” Techno looks up from his movie, having been completely focused, and turns towards his dad. “I got dinner on the way home. Burgers, from that place you love, Techno. Living room dinner for today.”

He sits down with them, placing a paper bag down on the living room table. Tommy doesn’t recognize the logo, and feels anxiety rising when he realizes he doesn’t know what Phil got, or if he’ll like it. Techno immediately reaches for the bag, taking out a cardboard box with what looks to be a chicken burger inside, with fries. Phil hands him a container that looks exactly the same, before grabbing his own food.

“I got you the same thing as Techno, I hope you don’t mind. If you don’t like it, I can make you something else.” Tommy takes the food gratefully before setting his sketchbook aside. He knows he likes chicken burgers, and he likes fries. He starts eating, slowly, as the movie drones on in the background. He never really focuses on movies, but he feels like he understands even less today.

His brain is scrambling to process everything that happened today, from the overheard conversation to everything with Wilbur. It all happened so fast, everything came crashing down in one day, and built itself up again in barely 30 minutes. And now he’s here, with Phil and Techno, eating a burger and watching a kids movie. His head hurts, and his body aches. He feels awful, and he knows he was right this morning, when he figured this would be a bad day.

When he finishes his food, the sun is still out, and the movie isn’t over, but he’s tired. He slept during the day, earlier, but he’s tired. He gets up to throw away his trash and stands next to the couch, for a second, before the words stuck in his throat finally come out.

“I’m uh, tired. I’m gonna go to my room.” His room, because Wilbur apologized for everything. Techno and Phil both nod, and Phil gives him another warm smile as he leaves. He grabs his open sketchbook off the couch, and pockets the pencil case.

He throws himself on his bed the second he reaches his room, and just throws his things aside. He closes his blinds, and his lights. It’s too early to sleep, he knows he’ll wake up ridiculously early and hate himself, but his eyes already feel heavy. Everything feels heavy. He can hear the subtle buzz of the TV downstairs, and some casual chatter, from Phil and Techno.

As he’s closing his eyes, he spots Technos headphones, sitting on his bedside table, and he slips them on his head.

It doesn’t take much longer for him to fall asleep.

Chapter Text

Tommy wakes up tired. He wakes up with the weight of yesterday still on his shoulders. He wakes up and regrets it. He wakes up and wishes he hadn’t. He wakes up before the sun rises.

He doesn’t even bother questioning it this time. He leaves his room and heads downstairs. He makes a point to keep the headphones on, because he would feel guilty forever if he managed to lose Techno’s headphones, or somehow break them. He thanks that decision when he spots Techno down in the living room, watching the tv on mute. He looks up when he hears Tommy’s feet hitting the floor.

“Good mornin’.” It's said in a soft voice, and Tommy almost doesn’t hear it. After a few seconds, he manages to make out the words and nods, because apparently he had cursed himself the day before and now words got caught in his throat and he couldn’t even get out a stuttered couple of syllables.

He walks to the couch and sits down next to Techno, and after a couple seconds, hands him his headphones. Techno takes them back with a grateful, crooked smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. Suddenly, he feels vulnerable. He glances back at Techno, who’s still just holding the headphones in his hands. He doesn't say anything.

They watch the movie for a few more minutes, Tommy struggling to figure out the plot, before Techno speaks again. He hands the headphones back to Tommy, not commenting on his confused look.

“I think you need them more than me, right now.” Tommy stays quiet, because that’s all he’s able to do, and slips the headphones back on his head. The weight is starting to grow familiar, and, as much as he doesn’t want to admit it, it’s comforting. It feels like he’s safer, with the headphones on. He knows it’s nonsense, but he wonders if that’s how Techno feels too, if that’s why he never takes them off. He doesn’t bother asking.

There’s not much noise, down here, especially not this early, but the headphones muffle even his own thoughts. Everything is so quiet, there’s no room to worry about anything. Techno just keeps watching the movie. Tommy tries to look at the screen but the scenes change too quickly, and he loses track before even catching a single plot point. He just looks down at his hands and focuses on that.

He wants to talk to Techno. He wants to ask questions about that center Wilbur is staying at, he wants to know why Techno knows so much, he wants to know when Wilbur will be back. He wants to know if Wilbur really hates him.

He doesn’t say anything.

The movie is almost over when Tommy finally manages to gather some courage and get the words to stop sticking to his throat. He turns to Techno, who looks to be half focused on the movie, still, as it comes to an end. Tommy finally asks him some questions.

“Hey, uh, how long will Wilbur be gone?” Techno turns towards him and doesn’t say anything for a second, and Tommy is about to backpedal and apologize when he finally answers.

“I’m not sure. It was two weeks, last time, but he was doing a lot worse. Maybe a week?” It’s the answer Tommy was hoping for. A week is enough time for Tommy to get his shit under control, and enough time for him to hopefully get over his dumb fears of Wilbur hating him. Even if Will hates him, that’s fine. Not everyone has to like Tommy. He just has to come to terms with that. He nods.

More questions stick to the tip of his tongue but he doesn’t want to push. He knows he’s pushing it just by acting like he belongs in this family. He decides to keep them for some other time.

Techno switches to another movie and the images buzz on in the background, letting Tommy sit with his thoughts. They overflowed in his head and pushed for his mouth. Questions pile up in his head, the same way they usually do. There’s so much he wants to know. He lets the silent buzz of the tv distract him.

Finally, words boil over and he asks one of the questions weighing on his tongue.

“How do you know about that place Wilbur is going to? Have you been there before?” Techno turns towards him and pauses for a second, which leaves Tommy just enough time to doubt if that was even an appropriate question to ask or if he should apologize for it now before it's too late. It leaves him just enough time to doubt everything before Techno finally answers.

“It’s complicated. Yes, but not for the same reason as him? I haven’t really talked about it before.” Tommy feels guilty for even asking. He knows it’s personal information, he shouldn’t push, but he always does. He never knows when to just shut his mouth and mind his business. He nods, because he doesn’t want to risk saying something wrong again, risk hurting someone. He just shuts his mouth. Techno keeps talking.

“I have some mental health problems, alright Tommy? I feel like it’s obvious.” Tommy furrows his eyebrows, because it isn’t. Sure, Tommy had noticed he was a bit weird, and didn’t act quite like Tommy was used to, but he just assumed he was different. This entire family felt different, Tommy hadn’t even thought to question it. He looks at Techno questioningly.

“Well, like. I have ADHD, you know what that is, right?” Tommy nods, because his teachers had told him he had that too, but he didn’t fully know what it meant. He assumed it meant loud and easily distracted, but that didn’t seem to fit Techno, so Tommy must’ve assumed wrong. Techno continues.

“I also have autism, and schizophrenia.” Tommy looks over at him, wide eyed, because he knows what that is, but what he knows certainly doesn’t match up with Techno. He’s seen people with schizophrenia in movies, always crazy serial killers or people who can barely function and need to be locked up. Techno just looked normal. He acted normal, he wasn’t crazy, he didn’t talk to himself, and he certainly wasn’t a serial killer.

“I have meds now. They make my life more manageable. It’s just like my cane but with my brain.” Tommy still doesn’t understand. He knows medication exists for stuff like this but he also knows Techno seems too normal for everything he’s saying. Sure he’s a little odd but not anymore than Tommy himself is. It seems Techno reads his mind.

“Not all people like me are crazy, or serial killers, or dangerous. Most aren’t. But before I had my meds, I was… Not as functional as I am now. That’s why I went to the place Will is at. That’s it.” Tommy just nods, because Techno already sounds uncomfortable, and Tommy knows he pushed too far and it’s his fault Techno is uncomfortable. It’s always his fault when things go wrong. He just sits in silence, feeling guilty. He always manages to fuck up. It’s what he does best. It might be his only talent other than being really fucking annoying.

He finally gets up and walks to the kitchen, before rummaging through the cupboards. There’s still no good breakfast food, still just the 5 boxes of cereal that only served as a bitter reminder of what had happened with Wilbur. Techno walks into the kitchen close behind him, two sets of footsteps hitting the ground as his crutches hit the hardwood floor along with his feet.

“There’s bread. Do you want toast?” Tommy looks at him gratefully.

“Uh, yeah, please. I don’t want uh, cereal again.” Techno gives him an understanding nod and pushes 2 pieces of bread in the toaster before putting his crutches aside and sitting on the counter.

“You’re allowed to ask questions, Tommy. It’s fine.” He says it in a monotone voice, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. Tommy nods, because he doesn’t believe him but he knows better than to argue. He knows sometimes it's better to just accept it. Sometimes it’s better to just let yourself hope. Techno nods back, as if satisfied that Tommy understood, and a small pang of guilt rings in Tommy’s stomach.

Suddenly, the toasts pop out of the toaster, startling them both. Tommy jumps, shoulders tensing, and Techno clenches his fist. They both quickly calm down, Techno pulling out plates from the cabinet, still sitting atop the counter, and placing both toasts on separate plates. He passes one to Tommy, who takes it with a small smile. The plate is warm and the toast is plain but Tommy starts eating immediately. He loves plain toast, or plain bread. He prefers most things plain, really. Techno does the same, not even glancing at Tommy.

It would be comforting silence if Tommy didn’t feel so out of it. He wishes everything would just go back to normal, but he isn’t even sure what normal he misses. Does he want to go back home to his parents, back to his family and stuffed animals and childish interests his father mocked? Does he want to go back to when he first got here, those first 2 or 3 days where everything felt wrong but still manageable? Does he just want a different life, away from everything, where everything is as normal as it can be?

He doesn’t know what he wants, he never does. He glances out of the window above the stove and sees the sun start to rise. It looks beautiful, the room fills with warm light and it’s refreshing, and comforting. He misses when silence felt this comforting too.

They sit like this through breakfast, and as the sun settles higher in the sky, Tommy hears steps going down the stairs. He half expects Wilbur to walk into the kitchen and start making jokes with Techno. He deflates a bit when he sees Phil and remembers Wilbur won’t be here to joke for a while, now. He gives a small smile when he sees them both.

“Well you boys are up early!” There’s something forced in his voice, like an edge of sadness he’s trying to hide. Tommy nods at his comment, and Techno does too, a couple seconds later. A small silence comes back when Phil doesn’t say anything else.

“Say, Techno, mate? Would you mind taking Tommy to the park today? I think you could both use some fresh air.” It’s asked less like a question and more like a suggestion. Techno thinks about it for a few minutes before nodding and answering.

“Sure, I can do that, I don’t mind.” Tommy nods too, because he hasn’t been outside in a little while now. As he moves his head, his curls brush against his shoulders and he’s reminded of how dirty his hair is, and everything else about him is.

“Uhm, Phil? Could I take a shower? I haven’t taken one since I got here.” Phil’s eyes widen a bit and he nods without a second of hesitation.

“Oh yeah, of course mate! You can use the upstairs bathroom anytime you want.” Tommy gives a small nod of acknowledgment and rushes upstairs. Seeing the slightly busted door of the upstairs bathroom makes anxiety rise in him but it’s the only place he has explicit permission to shower, so he just deals with it. He grabs a new set of clothes from his room and heads to the bathroom for a shower.

The room is small, and there’s only a sink, toilet and shower. Tommy grabs a white towel, one he’s almost certain wouldn’t belong to anyone, and sets it down with his clothes before hopping in the shower. He puts the water as hot as it’ll go and lets the steam cover up the glass door, and blur his vision. When he looks down, he sees patches of red form on his skin where the almost boiling water washes over him.

He washes his hair with the soap still sitting in the shower and rinses it out, the hot water covering his face. He stands under the spray for a few minutes longer before getting out and getting dressed. He puts on a pair of shorts almost identical to the ones he’s been wearing since he got here, but just a shade darker, and a bit more worn out, and a white shirt with some cartoon characters on the front. It’s a shirt he got when he was younger, maybe 10, or 11, but that still fits him. Sometimes he thinks that maybe he should’ve grown out of his childhood clothes by now, like everyone else his age has. But he just likes not having to buy new clothes. He slips his shoes back on and heads out, dumping his dirty clothes and wet towel in the laundry basket that sits outside of the bathroom.

He heads back to his room and sits down for a second, before checking his phone, despite the fact that it works no better than it did yesterday. Through the cracked screen, he tries to read the time. He thinks he sees 7:28 am but the cracks make every zero look like an eight and every one look like a seven, so he takes it with a grain of salt. He walks back downstairs, his vision blurring slightly as he slowly goes down the steps.

He sees Techno and Phil talking in the living room. The tv is turned off and Tommy can’t hear what they’re saying and doesn’t dare walk closer to check. He’s learned his lesson about eavesdropping. He walks back up the stairs, stumbling a bit when he reaches the top. He goes back to his room. Looking around gives him a weird feeling of nostalgia. It looks nothing like his room did back home but it’s filled with the exact same things, and he remembers placing each object with just as much care as when he decorated back then.

He picks up some of the trinkets on his desk and turns them around in his hand before setting them back down. He opens drawers and closes them and picks up pencils to scatter them around before picking them back up. He paces around, picking up every little thing he has fond memories of, or any memories of. He lets time wash over him as he paces and paces and find more and more happy moments hidden in figurines and toy skateboards and everything else he can’t let go of.

He hears a knock on his door, as he’s about to empty his backpack. He calls out a vaguely positive answer and Techno opens his door.

“Tommy? Are you ready to head out? It’s almost 9 so Phil said we should go soon.” Tommy’s eyes widen when he hears the time. He’d been pacing aimlessly for that long? He furrows his eyebrows and tilts his head. Techno continues speaking.

“Phil will drive us there, so we can’t go too late. He’ll come back when we’re ready to leave.” Tommy nods and glances at Techno’s crutches. It makes sense, so he follows behind Techno when he goes back downstairs and meets with Phil. Before they get in the car, Tommy glances at the other boy's outfit and notices that same corset from the other day, and more pirate shirts. He figures it's a harmless question.

“Why do you wear uh, corsets?” He stumbles over the word, it being one he’s only heard in passing from the girl in his class who did theater and quite liked costumes. Techno furrows his brows.

“I just like them? And they help support my back, I guess.” Tommy nods and gets in the car, looking down, embarrassed to have asked such a dumb question. Because he likes them, why else would he wear something? Tommy should stop asking so many questions, especially questions as stupid as that one.

The drive is short and before long, they reach a small park with lots of trees and a swing set, with only 2 swings. It’s simple and it looks cozy. Techno and Tommy both get out of the car, and Phil tells them he’ll come back to get them in two hours, or whenever Techno calls, if they want to come back sooner.

Tommy gives a nod and Techno gives a small thumbs up, tucking his crutches under his armpit as he got out of the car. They both slowly made their way to a bench, next to the swing set Tommy had spotted. His vision swam slightly, and he stumbled over some rocks and branches in his path. Techno walked slowly, leaning most of his weight on his crutches. He mumbled something under his breath that Tommy didn’t quite catch with the others headphones still on his head before pausing and taking a breath.

“Seriously, Tommy, are you ok? I swear you can talk to me.” Tommy was surprised by the comment, because he hadn’t noticed he was acting strangely enough to warrant attention, let alone worry. He just nods his head, because he’ll be fine, and he’s not Techno’s problem anyways, especially not right now, when Techno already has to worry about his actual brother.

They finally reach the bench and Techno pulls out a book from a bag that hung at his side. Tommy doesn't recognize it and guesses it isn’t the same book Techno had read at the dinner table the other day. It looks big and complicated, and Tommy questions Techno’s sanity if this is what he reads for fun. He flips it open to a seemingly random page and starts reading, almost ignoring Tommy. He doesn’t think before he starts talking.

“What are you reading?” Techno looks up from the page he’s reading and turns towards him, slightly. His face doesn’t change but Tommy can almost feel something happy behind his eyes when Tommy starts talking to him, barely a stumble in his words.

“It’s a book I’m supposed to be reading for school, but it’s actually really interesting. It’s about greek mythology, mostly.” Tommy makes a face when he hears it’s a school book and rolls his eyes a bit.

“Sounds really boring.” He says without thinking, before regretting it. He almost has the time to start apologizing before Techno cuts him off with a joke.

“Bruh. It’s like, ancient memes, it’s not boring.” Tommy raises an eyebrow when he hears ‘ancient memes’ and suddenly he really, actually wants to hear more.

“Fine! If it’s not boring, tell me one of the stories.” He knows he’s heard some greek myths at school before, or from an old classmate. He even remembers some of the stories, vaguely. Maybe this is just an excuse to have fun with Techno again, or maybe he just looks really interested in his greek myths and it’s making Tommy interested too, but either way, he lets himself ask. If Phil sent them here, it was probably so they could spend time together, or something like that.

“Sure. Uhhh, you ever heard of Theseus?” Tommy shakes his head. “Well, basically, his mom, the queen of Athens, kinda just sent him out to slay a bunch of monsters cuz she was like “well, I had you as a blessing, so you have to be special. You’re an adult, go be a hero” which is a crazy thing to do to your own son. But he manages and when he comes back, he finds out his dad is married to a sorceress now, Madea, who tells him “Hey kill your dad for me?” but he doesn’t, and his dad ends up recognizing him-”

The story goes on, with some parts obviously missing, leaving Tommy to wonder what could’ve happened in those small parts Techno forgot. He sits there, listening attentively, until Techno is done telling his story. Every detail manages to stick to Tommy’s brain.

“- and then they chased him out of his own country. Or city state. Doesn’t matter.” Tommy nods his head. He gives a crooked smile.

“I like this guy! He sounds awesome, too bad he got, like, exiled!” Techno gives Tommy a small smile and gives a shake of his head, pretending to be disappointed, Tommy thinks.

“Of course you do. You’re kinda like him, a miracle child.” Tommy doesn’t answer, because he doesn’t quite agree, doesn’t quite consider himself a miracle child, but he smiles anyway. “Well, Theseus, I’m gonna go on the swings. Feel free to join me.” The name is said teasingly, but it still makes Tommy happy. It feels like a nickname, and he likes it. He follows Techno to the swings.

When he gets up, his vision blurs. He stumbles. and catches himself on the bench. He tries to straighten up and walk towards Techno but black dots form in his vision, and he falls forwards in the grass. As he closes his eyes, he hears Techno yell his name, and a phone ringing.

Chapter Text

When Tommy opens his eyes, he’s laying on the couch. The lights are off and the room is quiet, so quiet. It's a crushing type of silence, the type he doesn't like. He tries to sit up. His vision swims and his head pounds as he leans up on his hands. He powers through.

He gets off the couch and stumbles forward, his steps heavy on the hardwood floor. He hears hushed voices coming from the kitchen, and Phil walks in, followed closely by Techno, leaning heavily on his cane.

“Oh Tom, mate, sit down! It's alright.” Tommy looks up at him, with furrowed eyebrows. He sits down anyways, because he was told to, and because his body feels heavy. He looks up at them, before closing his eyes for just a second longer, letting the pressure behind them spread. He leans back as they stare.

“Do you… do you know what happened?” Techno sounds nervous, and looks at him for a second too long. Tommy covers his face with his hand, anything to stop Techno from looking him in the eyes. He tries to remember what happened, why he woke up here, on the couch, in the middle of the day, but everything just comes back in broken memories, small fragments of things that might’ve happened, or that he just made up. He uncovers his face.

He opens his mouth to speak but all that comes out is a rough sounding cough, and something that sounds almost like a word. He just shakes his head. Techno glances back at his dad, and Phil walks back into the kitchen. Tommy still doesn’t say a word.

“We were at the park, and you just… fainted.” Tommy’s eyes widened. That hadn’t happened in a long time. He remembers the last time, he fainted at school, his head slammed on his desk. His parents got called. He tried not to remember anything after that.

“Are you ok? I tried to make sure you didn’t hit your head, but I couldn’t really react fast enough.” Tommy tries to focus for long enough to figure out if he even is ok. He doesn’t really know. Everything hurts, but it always does, and the room is spinning. He isn’t sure what he’s feeling. He isn’t sure if he’s ok. He isn’t sure of much right now. He closes his eyes again.

He hears footsteps and opens his eyes again. Phil is standing in front of him with a glass of water. He takes it gratefully. The water is cold, and his throat is irritated, and dry. He coughs up the water he had managed to get down, and takes another drink. Techno and Phil just stand there, looking at him. He gulps down the rest of the water and leans back again. His head pounds.

“I-” A cough interrupts the sentence, and he takes a second more before continuing, “I’m ok, I think.” Techno nods, and slowly walks over, stumbling over his own feet. He sits on the couch next to Tommy. No one is saying anything, and he’s starting to get nervous. He’s starting to get scared.

Phil is looking down at him, and the only thing Tommy can see in his eyes is pity. Pity and anxiety, something sad. Something he’s felt before, Tommy thinks. He waits for him to talk. He doesn’t ask any questions. He just waits, because he knows something bad is coming. Finally, after what feels like weeks of apprehension, Phil speaks.

“Tommy, we need to have a chat, mate.” He pauses, like he’s trying to figure out how to phrase something complicated. “Do you… do you think you might have an eating disorder?”

There’s a long moment of silence. It rings out. Tommy just stares. He doesn’t know what to say. Just denying it seems too easy, too simple to argue against. Phil could have proof, real arguments. Tommy didn’t think he had an eating disorder. He’s never starved himself, or puked up food on purpose, he doesn’t check his weight or look at himself in the mirror for hours. He thinks he’s ok. He just stares. He doesn’t have anything to say.

“I’ve just noticed that you aren’t around for meals sometimes, and, well, now with the fainting. I’m just worried about you.” Tommy glances at Techno next to him. He tries to think about what to say. He tries, he does. He manages to put something together.

“I don’t- uh, I mean. I don’t think so? Uhm, I’ve never, like, felt bad about uh, eating? I just, don’t like it much, I guess. Sorry.” He feels like he's digging himself a deeper grave. He also feels like he shouldn't think about this situation like a grave.

Phil gives him a long look. There's still that same sad, pity in his eyes. The one that makes Tommy so damn uncomfortable. He isn't suffering. He isn't sick. He's not Wilbur.

“Alright, well, I'm here if you ever need to talk, ok?” Phil sounds resigned, like he's had this conversation before. Tommy realizes he probably has. He's probably been in this exact spot before, saying exactly this. With that same look in his eyes. With Techno sitting on the couch. With a glass of water on the table. He's probably been here before. He probably hates having to do it again.

He probably hates him.

Techno gets up again. He walks towards Phil and leans a hand against his shoulder.

“Hey, Theseus? Just yell if you need anything, alright? You can stay in the living room, it's all good.” Tommy stares at him as he walks away, and does the same when Phil follows him, shooting him a smile as he walks out. He just stays on the couch.

He feels bad, he thinks. Maybe guilty. Maybe some mix of both, or some mix of something else. He could have just said he had fainted before, that it wasn't because he didn't eat enough, but he didn't know. He wasn't sure. He didn't know anything, really.

He wants Techno to come back. He wants Wilbur to come back. He wants to go home. He wants a lot of things, really. He doesn't know how to achieve them. He lays back down on the couch. His head is finally clearing up, and the pounding has left.

He doesn't know how long he stays there, but eventually, Techno comes back. His crutches are held tightly in his hands, and his movements are slow, and heavy. He stands there for a second before speaking.

“What do you wanna eat for lunch?” Tommy stares for a second. He thinks about it. Maybe he thinks for a second too long, because even Techno’s stare starts looking sad.

“Uh, grilled cheese.” Tommy says the first thing that comes to mind, anything to stop that weird look in Technos eyes, anything to stop this family from hating him. Techno looks relieved, and nods before walking away. As he's turning, Tommy yells something in his direction.

“Could you- uh, could you get Phil to uhm, help me to my room?” It feels silly to ask, when he should be able to get there on his own just fine. He hopes that his little fainting episode at least justifies the fact that he needs help. They'd only been worried about him, so far, not angry. He assumes that means he's allowed to feel bad.

“Oh, sure. He'll be here in a second.” Techno doesn't look upset. Mostly surprised, really. Tommy doesn't understand what was so surprising about him asking for help.

It really does take barely a second for Phil to show up. He doesn't say a word as he helps Tommy off the couch. Tommy, who's leaning every ounce of his body weight onto Phil's shoulder. He hopes Phil doesn't notice how unsteady his steps are. He hopes Phil doesn't notice the way he flinches when they reach the stairs. He hopes Phil doesn't notice.

They manage to reach his room just fine. It takes longer than it should, and Phil is stumbling from the weight of Tommy at his arm, but they make it just fine. Phil walks Tommy all the way to his bed, and helps him sit down. He stands there for a second, like he's expecting something.

Tommy lets himself take the opportunity to talk.

“Uh, Phil? I think I fainted because of some uh, problems I have.” He doesn't allow himself to even think about saying disability.

Phil takes a second to respond.

“Are you sure? Listen, Tommy, it's not that I don't believe you. I'm always here if you have problems and need help with them. But I've done this before, and I've been lied to before.”

Tommy looks down at the floor in front of him. He doesn't think he's making up excuses. He doesn't think he's lying. But he doesn't want to be accused of having an eating disorder either. Maybe he's just finding a convenient time to exaggerate his issues.

Phil waits for him to respond. He doesn't. Phil looks at him one more time before turning around and heading to the door.

“I'm not lying.” Is whispered in a hushed voice.

Phil turns for a second.

“Did you say something?”

“Uh, no, sorry.” Phil walks out. Tommy looks at his door close. And he stares. He just stares. He tries to will Phil back into the room, so he can gather his fucking courage and just tell him he didn't have a fucking eating disorder. Because he doesn't.

He's just in pain, near constantly, in horrible fucking pain, in unmanageable pain. But that feels like such an exaggeration, like such a push. A push for attention, maybe, a push to finally be believed. He just stares. He has nothing else to say.

Maybe another day, he'll gather the courage to be honest. About how sometimes, he's in pain, and sometimes it's just a bit harder to be normal. About how maybe he needs some help. Maybe.

Apparently he has a real talent for losing time, because after what feels like a minute, Techno is knocking on his door with lunch in his hands. Tommy looks up at him, confused. Eating dinner in the living room had already been called a special occasion. Why was Techno giving him his food in his room?

Techno answers his question before he can even ask.

“Phil asked me to stay with you while you ate. He didn’t wanna force you to come back downstairs, so.” Tommy just stares, because he hates being watched when he eats. He hates eating around people in general. But he doesn’t want to confirm their doubts that he’s some type of sick, that he’s some type of ill. So he just nods along and takes the plate from Techno’s hands.

“Listen, Phil doesn’t have any bad intentions. He’s not trying to accuse you of anything, he’s just… scared? He doesn’t want another one of his kids in the hospital, he’s just doing what he thinks is right.” Tommy doesn’t say anything, because he knew that already. He knew Phil was just trying to avoid another Wilbur. But Tommy knew he was nothing like Wilbur. He wasn’t sick, he wasn’t like Wilbur. So he just eats in silence. Techno watches him, watches how long it takes him to get through a simple sandwich, watches as he avoids taking more bites than he needs to.

Tommy thinks Techno will believe him more than Phil does, so he decides to talk to him instead.

“I think I fainted because of the … pain. The one I told you about. I’ve fainted before, I get dizzy a lot. It’s just uh, hard? It’s hard to stay on my feet, to stay awake. Does that make sense?” Techno nods along, and hums, low and slow.

“I believe you. I’ll talk to Phil, is that ok with you?” Tommy lets out a long sigh of relief and nods. That’s all he needed. Phil would trust his own son more than he trusts Tommy. Maybe he’d manage to convince him he really is ok, and needs some other type of help. Really, Tommy doesn’t need any help at all. He just wants someone to believe him.

He finishes his sandwich in silence, because he doesn’t feel as nauseatingly scared. He feels ok, for the first time in a bit. He thinks this is manageable. He thinks he can live with this. The sandwich doesn’t taste as bad anymore, the food doesn’t feel as daunting, and neither does having Techno in his room.

When he’s done eating, Techno grabs his plate and turns around to bring it back to the kitchen.

“I’ll sort it out, Theseus. You shouldn’t have to worry about this.” The soft tone in his voice almost makes tears well up in his eyes but he wipes them away before they can even amount to anything. He watches as Techno closes the door behind him and he feels safe. He feels safe here. Even with everything that’s happened so far, he feels safe. He feels like he could belong here.

Eventually, after what feels like hours, Tommy’s head finally clears up, and he heads back downstairs. His steps aren’t as heavy and there’s no uncomfortable ache in his legs. As he reaches the living room, he sees Techno reading. It’s still the same book as the one from the park, and Tommy sits down beside him. He’s trying not to disturb him. He leans on the couch, far enough that he can see the pages of Techno’s book. He tries to read it, but the words blur with the distance, and his head is still hurting.

Techno turns to look at him for a minute, and gives him a small smile. He angles the book towards Tommy before speaking.

“This is one of my favorite stories.” Tommy leans over to read what it says. It's a bit blurry from over Techno's shoulder but he manages.

There's a name that starts with C and something about prophecies. He turns to Techno with a confused look on his face.

“It's about Cassandra,” Techno answers easily, looking pleased to be able to talk about it. “She was a priestess cursed by Apollo cuz she wasn't into him. Basically, all her prophecies were true, but no one would ever believe her.” Tommy made a face at the explanation and opened his mouth to speak.

“That's awful! Also that's so dramatic, weird ass guy.” Techno nods along with a chuckle. The air feels light and Tommy feels comfortable. The conversation keeps going for a while, both leaned over the book. Techno explains every name, and answers every question Tommy asks. It's a long story, and a lot less simple than Techno had made it seem. Tommy had never been good with reading, or with myths, but Techno made it all sound interesting.

It was fun. Tommy laughed along with every joke, and Techno even laughed at some of his. It was so easy, so natural, Tommy almost forgot how stressed he was. He didn't feel bad. He managed to let go of the things weighing him down, everything that had piled up today and yesterday and the day before.

Eventually, as Techno is explaining the end of the story, and everything he likes about Cassandra, Phil walks in. He looks heavy, or tired. Something that Tommy doesn't see as a very good sign. He stands in front of them for a second, and smiles when he notices what they're doing. Tommy calms down a bit.

“Hey boys, I'm making pasta for dinner. You both ok with that?” Techno doesn't look up from his book as Tommy nods. After a few minutes, Techno seems to realize he was addressed too and nods as well. Phil seems happy with that answer and leaves again.

The room falls in a comfortable silence. Tommy listens to Phil move around the kitchen and Techno keeps reading, slow and sluggish over every sentence. Tommy leans back. His head falls on Techno's shoulder, and as he's about to sit up again, Techno wraps an arm around him. Tommy lets himself settle.

It feels like barely a minute when Phil comes back to tell them dinner is ready. As he's about to leave, Techno talks.

“Can we eat together in the living room? I don't feel like getting up.” Phil gives a long sigh as he looks at them both. Tommy suddenly feels self conscious and sits up, leaning away from Techno. The boy turns towards him from above his book with a questioning look, but he doesn't say anything.

“Yeah alright mate, I guess we can make an exception again.” Techno gives a little grin as Phil leaves to get everyone's plates. He comes back and hands out warm plates of spaghetti, the type Tommy loved. It's a reassuring type of thing, a meal he knows he'll actually enjoy, and he shoots Phil a smile.

They eat while watching a movie. Tommy didn't pay attention to what they picked, but it wasn't animation. It was something long, and something sweet, with an ending that left Phil misty eyed. Tommy didn't remember. He had his head leaned against Techno's shoulder, and he thinks his eyes had closed a few too many times to really understand the plot.

He didn't really mind. He had a feeling they'd have time to rewatch it, some other day. He didn't understand why he felt that way. Really, he didn't know how long he'd stay here, he didn't know how many more movie nights he'd be able to sit in on before he got kicked out to some other house and some other family, that maybe wasn't quite as kind.

But he felt comfortable enough to assume it'd be enough time. He didn't know what qualified as enough, but he knew that was what they had. Enough.

The movie ends a lot later than Tommy had expected, and his little dozing off hadn't cured how tired he was yet. They stayed in the living room for a while longer, talking. Talking about a lot of things, a lot of things Tommy didn't really find all that important. He laughed at some jokes and commented where he thought it was appropriate.

He mostly just enjoyed the noise. Eventually, Techno headed up to his room, book and cane in hand, wishing both Phil and Tommy goodnight. Tommy turns towards Phil, who's sitting on the other end of the couch. He feels like he should have something to say, but he doesn't. He just sits there again, like he apparently always does.

Phil is the one to speak first.

“You know, mate, I'm always here if you need to talk. I know you trust Techno more, I can tell. But I wanna be there for you too, alright?” Tommy just kind of stares at him. Because yeah, he does trust Techno more, much more, but he has no way of explaining it. And he would talk to Phil, but Phil is an adult, he's someone with authority, and Tommy still can't figure out where the limits are.

Tommy nods and wishes him goodnight before going up to his room. The lights are off when he opens his door, and he doesn't bother turning them back on as he walks towards his bed. He just lays down.

It feels lonely, and Tommy wishes for a second he had some childhood stuffed animal.

If he's being honest, Tommy wishes he was still sleeping on the couch, leaning his head on Technos shoulder.

Instead, he just falls asleep alone. Like he always does.

Chapter Text

Tommy wakes up late. At least, he thinks it's late, because he feels rested, and alive. The type of unusual feeling he only gets after sleeping for 10 hours, 12, maybe more. It's still light out, so Tommy assumes it couldn't have been that long.

He gets up slowly, he lets the blood reach the very bottom of his fingers, and of his toes, before he walks towards his door. He can feel his joints cracking. He can feel his circulation stubbornly refusing to reach his hands, rendering them too weak to properly turn his doorknob.

He feels … slow. He knows where he is, and why, but it feels distant. Like a half erased pencil sketch, he knows it's there from the indent on the page but he can't quite tell what the drawing was supposed to be. He finally pushes his door open, stumbling out into the hallway. He leans against his doorway for a second before walking towards the stairs.

As he reaches them, he sees Techno sitting on the couch downstairs and gets a feeling of deja-vu. He slowly walks down the stairs, leaning heavily on the railing, and blinking. He eventually feels a bit more at home in his body, a bit less distant in noticing every single movement. He walks towards the couch and Techno looks up at him.

“This happens a lot.” He doesn’t think much before he speaks, and the sentence doesn’t make much sense, but Techno nods along anyways. He gives a small hum of agreement and Tommy walks towards the kitchen. He thinks he’s allowed to make breakfast. Honestly, it’s been long enough that he doesn’t really care. He walks over to the cupboard and gets out a loaf of bread. He makes plain toast again and walks back into the living room with the 2 pieces on his plate.

Techno looks up again, and Tommy notices now that he’s reading, again. He wants to lean over and watch him read like yesterday, but his brain is working too slowly to let him process any words, so he settles for sitting beside him to eat his toast. The small crunch of him eating fills the room, as Techno keeps reading, quietly. Eventually, Tommy hears footsteps and looks over to see Phil walking down the stairs. He shoots Tommy a warm smile, like he usually does, and walks towards him.

“Hey Tommy, would you mind coming to the kitchen with me? I wanna talk to you about something.” He must notice the panic that settles on Tommy’s face because he quickly adds “Nothing bad!”. Tommy gets up and leaves his plate on the coffee table. He follows behind Phil.

He’s still nervous about what the older man wants to talk about. Maybe it was about yesterday, or about something he did. He tries to remember if he’s done anything wrong recently as he sits down on a chair, in front of Phil.

“So, yesterday Techno talked to me about something.” Tommy tenses up in his chair. So this is what it was about. He’d forgotten he told Techno to tell Phil. He mentally prepares to be told he shouldn’t lie to Techno too, that he should just admit he has an eating disorder, before Phil finally speaks again.

“I’m sorry, Tommy. I should’ve believed you. I want you to feel safe talking to me, I’m sorry you had to go to Techno just to get through to me.” Tommy looks up at him with wide eyes. He hadn’t expected an apology. He doesn’t remember what he expected, really. He had just hoped, however foolishly, that Phil would listen. And he did. He gives Phil a nod and the man continues talking.

“I’m happy to help anywhere I can. I think the first step here should be going to the hospital-” Tommy freezes up at that word. He gets up, pushing his chair to the ground. He hears shuffling from the living room, and Techno walks in, and stares at him. Tommy backs away from them both, heading towards the wall in the corner of the room.

“No! No, no, we don’t need to go to the hospital! I’m not going to the hospital, we aren’t- we aren’t doing that! Leave me alone, LEAVE ME ALONE!” His voice gets more frantic as Phil slowly walks towards him, ending in a sobbing yell when he tries to set his hand on Tommy’s shoulder. Tommy’s back hits the wall, and Phil pulls his hand back. Phil takes a deep breath and slowly walks back, giving Tommy more room.

“Tommy,” His voice is calm, and quiet, even as Tommy continues to sob, “can you sit down please?” He looks up at Phil, his vision blurred by the tears. He shakes his head.

“Tom, mate, I know hospitals are scary but-” Tommy knows he’s being ridiculous but he covers his ears with a choked off scream that startles Techno, who was now sitting at the end of the table. Tommy can see Phil sigh, and it looks tired, and disappointed. Tommy almost stops, sits down, but he can’t. His head is full of memories of his mother, pinning him to the floor in hospital waiting rooms as he sobbed and screamed and thrashed.

He stops screaming, at least. Phil looks at him for a second. He sighs again.

“Can you sit down, mate? We’ll talk about something else, I promise.” Tommy peels his hands away from his ears. He slowly stands up straighter, no longer leaning on the wall. As he’s about to take a step forward, Techno starts talking.

“But, Phil-” He’s cut off by what looks like a stern look. Tommy slowly walks towards the table. He doesn’t sit down yet, just looks at Phil.

“Hey mate. I’m sorry, we don’t need to go to the hospital, it’s ok.” Tommy nods, slowly. He can still feel tears drying on his cheeks. He feels stupid now. He’d scared Techno when he screamed, and Phil looked so tired. He looked crazy. Screaming and sobbing just at the suggestion of going to the hospital. He knows he needs to, he knows that’s the most logical solution. He presses the collar of his shirt to his face, trying to dry away whatever remained of his tears.

“We’ll start with something else, it’s alright. Could you please sit down?” There’s something desperate in his voice, so Tommy just complies. He sits down in a chair next to the one he’d thrown to the ground earlier. Phil took a deep breath.

“Alright, is there anything you haven’t told Techno that I should know? Are you comfortable telling me that?” Tommy shakes his head. He doesn’t know what he’s saying no to, but it doesn’t matter. Techno glances over to his father before addressing Tommy directly.

“Can you talk right now?” Tommy shakes his head again. He hadn’t even realized but Techno’s question explains it. His words are stuck in his throat, his mouth is dry, he stares back at Techno. Phil gives a small nod.

“Do you think you’d be able to write?” Tommy gives a nod, because he really doesn’t wanna be a burden, but he isn’t really sure. Phil turns towards a drawer and opens it, bringing out a small notebook and a pen that he hands to Tommy. Tom sets the notebook down and grips the pen in his hand, but suddenly even writing words becomes too hard for him as he stares blankly at the paper. He looks up helplessly at Phil, who turns to Techno again.

“Techno, could you go get your AAC tablet?” Tommy gives a confused look and Phil turns back towards him. He gives him a smile before explaining, as Tehcno walks away, leaning on his cane.

“When Techno was younger, he didn’t talk for a little while, so we got him a tablet with an app. It has pre written sentences and words with drawings, and it reads out what you press.” Tommy’s eyes widen. That sounded… nice. He likes that idea, a lot. He’s happy Techno got to have that, when he was younger. A few minutes later, Tommy hears footsteps coming down the stairs paired with the click of Techno’s cane. He looks up and sees him walking over, holding what looked like a kids tablet.

It had a plastic case, the big ones that were soft and had handles, for small kids, so they wouldn’t drop them. Though, in Techno’s hand, next to his cane, it makes sense. It looks easy to carry, and he isn’t struggling like usual to find a balance between holding something fragile and leaning on his cane. He hands Tommy the tablet, already open on the app Phil had described.

Tommy looked over and found a small drawing of someone holding their hand to their chin, with small text underneath that read “hello”. He pressed on it and a deep robotic voice rattled off the message. He pressed it again, listening to the noises coming from the tablet. Phil smiled at him again, nodding.

“Can you tell me about that pain now, and everything else?” Tommy gave a small nod and pressed on the screen, playing a small “yes”. He pressed it again twice, stopping when Techno’s face started looking pained. He scrolled down.

“Pain. Legs.” Phil nods, humming along as he continues to press buttons, forming sentences as well as possible. “Dizzy, balance. Bad.”

“Your balance is bad?” Tommy hummed along, giving a small nod. “Is that why you fell, when we went shopping?” Tommy hummed again, focusing on the vibration in his throat.

“Alright, well, without-” Phil hesitated for a second. “For now, we can’t really guess why you fainted. But, I think I know what could help with your legs, and your balance.” Tommy tilted his head in a question, and the robotic voice read out “what?”

“Well,” Phil started slowly, as if unsure of how Tommy would react, “I could get one of Techno’s old canes out of storage, and we could adjust it to your height.” Tommy understood the hesitation now as his eyes widened, shaking his head and pressing the “no” button repeatedly. Phil gave another sigh and an almost sad smile.

“Techno uses a cane, he could show you how to. It would help, you’d be able to come shopping, to walk for longer. It’d be good for you.” Tommy pulled his hands away from the tablet, not wanting to impulsively say something. He takes a minute to think about it.

A cane is small. It’s what Techno uses when he isn’t in much pain. Maybe he could be allowed to use one, too. People wouldn’t assume he’s lying, if it’s only something used for small pain. He could get away with it. And Phil was offering, he wasn’t asking. And he looked so disappointed when Tommy refused. Tom looked over at Techno, and at the cane leaning on the kitchen table in front of him. He thought about when he was younger, and able to walk for hours, to run, to climb trees without any issues. He looks down at the tablet again.

“Later. Not today.” Phil’s smile gets wider and he nods, his eyes looking softer, more calm. Tommy can feel what was left of his emotions earlier climbing to the front of his throat as he chokes on an unexplained sob. Techno looks up from his book.

“Do you wanna be alone, Theseus?” Tommy gives a small smile when he hears the nickname, and he nods. Techno gets up, and Phil follows behind him.

Tommy leans his head forward, resting in his hands, and he lets himself sob. It’s loud, and he knows they can both hear him, but he can’t bring himself to care. He doesn’t feel good. He feels safe here, yes. And he trusts Phil that much more. But god, does he feel bad. Everything is too much, and he needs to let himself cry. To let himself feel it. He needs to because he knows he can. He knows he won’t be locked in his room to lash out and break things. He’s allowed to cry and that feels safe. That feels like something he should’ve had at home.

He doesn’t let himself think about it too much, as it makes him cry harder. He presses the bottom of his shirt to his face, trying to dry his tears as they fall. It takes longer than he’d like, but he calms down eventually. He takes a deep breath, and sits up straight. He can hear very quiet conversation from the living room. He gets up, grabbing the tablet as a second thought, and walks towards the living room. Phil seems to be on the phone, and Techno is sitting beside him, quietly still.

“Oh, Will, one second.” Tommy startles at hearing Wilburs name before looking at Phil. He gives a smile. “Do you feel better now, mate?”

Tommy pulls the tablet up, pressing yes before walking over. He sits in the chair opposite of the couch, the one that didn’t face the TV no matter how hard you tried, but that Techno seemed to like. He sets the tablet on his knees as he quietly waits for Phil to finish his phone call with Will. Phil seems to mostly just be asking news, making small talk. He brings up a song Wilbur had been writing and even Tommy can hear his voice brighten up. Tommy tries not to listen too closely. He’s learnt his lesson about eavesdropping.

Eventually, the conversation seems to come to an end, as Tommy hears them both wish the other goodbye. Some pleasantries are exchanged, and Phil hangs up, turning back towards Tommy and his son.

“I’m sorry, boys, but it looks like I have to get to work.” Techno looks up, shoulders more tense than they were a minute ago, and he nods. Tommy does as well, and Phil leaves, walking towards his office next to the stairs. Tommy turns towards Techno, who isn’t reading anything, for once. The older boy gives him what looks almost like a mischievous smile.

“Hey, Theseus, do you like minecraft?” Tommy jumps up a bit, quickly reaching for the tablet. He doesn’t bother looking for specific words, instead writing what he wants to say directly into the small text box.

“I fucking love minecraft.” The robotic voice might not sound excited, but Tommy can guess that even just a glance at his expression gives away how excited he actually is. He hadn’t played minecraft in so long. He was only really able to on his school computer, and it wasn’t quite minecraft. “Education edition”, to be exact. But he loved it. Techno gives him a wide smile, bigger than Tommy had ever seen before.

“Wanna play?” Tommy nods, humming repeatedly, enjoying that deep vibration. The hand he wasn’t using to hold the tablet came up in a fist and he shook it up and down.

He walked over to the couch, holding onto the tablet as he sat down next to Techno. The older boy got up, fiddling with the TV for a few minutes before opening it. Tommy recognized that they were playing on an Xbox thanks to the very few birthday parties he had been invited to as a child, including one where the birthday boy had an Xbox in his room. Tommy hadn’t been allowed to play. Everyone knew he broke stuff, that he was aggressive, angry. The boy told Tommy he couldn’t play because he’d probably break the controller. Tommy had just nodded and watched.

Techno turned back, handing Tommy a controller. Tommy looked at him and smiled, and hummed, and grabbed onto the controller as if it would be ripped away the second he let go. Techno navigated the console, opening minecraft as Tommy watched, quietly. It finally opened, and Techno turned towards Tommy,

“We can play in a server or a world. Me and Will have a world, so, we can have one too.” Tommy takes a minute to think about it, humming again. He’d feel better playing in a world they made, but it felt too personal, almost. Techno and Wilbur had one, the brothers. If he left, would Techno keep the world? Would it be deleted, forgotten? He decides to risk it anyway.

“World, please.” Techno nods, booting up a brand new world. Tommy watches as he calls it “Theseus and Techno’s world” and Tommy can’t help but smile. Techno sets it to easy and they both wait as it charges. Tommy has never played minecraft with someone else. He hopes he isn’t too awful, or annoying.

The second the world is open, Tommy starts running. He picks a direction and sprints, and Techno hurries to follow behind him. He lets out a small chuckle as Tommy jumps around, collecting dirt and wood. He just follows behind, doing the same, before he starts making tools.

It's a chaotic affair, but Techno just keeps laughing as Tommy somehow manages to get more and more disorganized with every minute that passes. Tommy is laughing too, as he dies for the fourth time just getting coal. They don’t play for long, at least in Tommy’s opinion. He would’ve stayed there for the entire day, if he had been allowed. But they stop playing after an hour or two. Tommy hadn’t quite been paying attention. He just looks up when Phil walks back over, seemingly done with his work.

“Hey boys, sorry to ruin the fun but we have to eat lunch. And I thought maybe we could all cook together!” Techno looks up before pausing the game, quickly. Tommy reaches for the tablet again, giving a small yes and an excited nod. He didn’t know if he could cook very well, he didn’t think so, but he wanted to help. He gives a smile. Techno nods, and stands up slowly, with Tommy following close behind.

As they walk towards the kitchen, Phil explains that they’ll be making pasta. Tommy jumps to his toes before lowering himself back down. He loves pasta a lot, and he likes making it too. Techno sits down on the counter once they reach the kitchen, and Tommy stands awkwardly behind Phil, wringing his hands.

Phil hands out instructions for both of them, with that warm tone in his voice that made Tommy feel safe. They work in silence. Tommy doesn’t bother pressing buttons when he’s getting his hands dirty, and Techno isn’t very talkative anyways. Phil just accommodates it, giving the occasional comment, the occasional smile. It feels nice, very nice. Tommy never cooked with his family, they just weren’t the type. Really, they didn’t cook much in general. Frozen foods and takeout were a staple, he’d say. Sometimes kids at school told him he was lucky. He didn’t really get how it was lucky, but he always laughed along anyways.

Now, sitting in a slightly too crowded kitchen, cooking with Phil and Techno, he felt a lot more lucky. He felt at home, that warm fuzzy feeling he didn’t really understand before this house. The meal is done before long, and they all sit down together, they eat together, they share that peaceful silence. Tommy relishes in it. He thinks he should be more anxious, more panicky. He thinks he shouldn’t be accepting these feelings so easily.

But it seems impossible to fight, so he lets it wash over him, even as he notices how calm he is, how childish he's behaving. He isn’t acting like himself, but everything is so much easier than it normally is. He doesn’t try to fight it, he doesn’t try to understand, to search through the back of his mind for answers.

He stays at the table after finishing his plate. Techno does too, he usually does. He’s reading his book again, and Tommy manages to grab his tablet, and asks if he can read it outloud. He wouldn’t do that, usually, wouldn’t even consider it. But Techno just nods, doesn’t even give a questioning look. His voice sounds nice, and Tommy remembers the few times his mother had read him bedtime stories. They’re cozy memories, the type he wishes he could roll up in and fall asleep cradling. He leans back against his chair, and tries to pay attention to whatever story Techno had moved on to now.

Tommy understands why Techno likes it. He wishes he was still able to read like he used to. He had loved reading as a child, he devoured books in days. Now the sentences just swam in his brain, struggling to find a footing, and he just found himself rereading the same passages over and over until he got bored. He figures that’s why he moved to drawing. No matter how many times his pencil danced on the paper, he still got something in the end that he could at least look back on, maybe even be proud of.

Tommy doesn’t notice when Techno stops reading for a few minutes, until the silence hits him. He looks up, and Techno is giving him a strange look. He furrows his eyebrows and Techno puts his book down.

“You feel safe with me, right?” Tommy tilts his head. He startles a bit at the question, but he nods anyway, doesn’t take more than a minute to think about it. Techno nods back, thoughtfully, before picking his book back up. He starts reading again, and Tommy doesn’t think about it any more than that. He has a small smile on his face when Techno flips the pages back to read him the story of Theseus, properly this time.

Tommy’s eyes are feeling heavy, when Techno reaches the end of the story. He puts his book down again, and Tommy sits up straighter. He frowns, and opens his mouth in argument.

“Hey, no, you read so good! Keep going, please?” Techno gives him a strange look, one that Tommy hasn’t seen yet, despite the many weird looks he had received already, but he gives a small shake of his head.

“I can read more later, but it’s almost time for dinner. I was just gonna get Phil.” Tommy twists his head to look at the oven, surprised when he reads 6:32. He hadn’t noticed the time pass, or the sun slowly make its way down, when Techno was reading. He had just fallen so far back in his own mind, enjoying the lull of Techno’s voice. Now, as the silence settled in, he noticed the growl of his stomach, and the ache in his legs from sitting on a wooden chair for so long.

He hurries to stand up, as Techno leaves to get Phil. Tommy stretches his arms over his head, hearing that sickening crack his shoulders always did when he didn’t move for too long. He walked over to the living room, peering over to see Techno standing in the doorway of Phils office. He hears a quiet exchange, and they both walk over.

“Hey, mate, how do you feel about pasta again? We still have a lot left over from lunch.” Tommy gives a nod, and a small thumbs up. He frowns at his own reaction before pushing his arm down, nodding again. Phil gives a smile, again, the one that can’t seem to leave his face, and Techno moves over next to him and sits on the couch. Tommy quietly follows behind.

“Uh, sorry, Tech, for making you read for so long.” Techno looks over at him and frowns.

“It’s fine, Theseus, I like reading.” Tommy just gives an awkward nod in response, and doesn’t dare say anything more.

When Phil calls them back to the dining table, Tommy gives a sigh of relief, finally walking away from the tense silence he had caused. He sits down in the same spot he’d been in earlier, only distantly noticing that the chair he had knocked over earlier was back in its spot now, pushed against the table carefully. Phil passes out their plates, and sits down with his own.

“I’m glad you two are spending time together.” Techno gives a small smile, before glancing back to Tommy. He doesn’t say anything, he isn’t sure if he’s supposed to, but he smiles back. He didn’t know he and Techno were meant to spend time together. Or encouraged to? Phil’s statement confuses him, is what he means. But he’s glad to be spending time with Techno too, so maybe it’s not the worst expectation to have been put on his back.

The pasta tastes as good as it did during lunch, and it doesn’t take long for everyone to be standing up, one by one, pushing chairs back and putting plates away. When Techno walks over to the living room couch, Tommy can’t help but follow. He sits down beside him, and idly notices the book tucked under his arm. It isn’t the mythology book he seems so enamoured with, it’s something else, a book Tommy hasn’t seen before.

“Do you still want me to read to you?” Tommy wants to say no, because asking in the first place had been dumb, some childish part of his brain fighting for comfort he didn’t need. But Techno doesn’t seem to mind. He just waits for an answer, patiently, pinching the first page between his fingers. So Tommy gives a shy nod, small, that he almost hopes Techno doesn’t notice.

He does, and he starts reading, still in the same slow pace as before, that lets Tommy take in every word that comes out of his mouth. He leans back against the couch, and lets his head roll back on the cushions. The story Techno is telling still revolves around greek mythology. Tommy can guess he’s passionate. He enjoys the story, it’s something for kids, he thinks, but it isn’t childish enough to be insulting.

Techno does voices for every character, impressions he seems to have deeply internalized. It’s the type of effort his mother didn’t even put in when he was 5 and begged every night for the one picture book they had that he liked. It feels nostalgic in a way, even if it’s something he hasn’t experienced. It feels like it should be nostalgic, like it should be familiar, like it should bring back memories of childhood and dreams. It doesn’t. It’s a brand new experience, a brand new memory, already cementing its way into his mind.

He lets himself be lulled to sleep, as the sky fills up with dark blues and black. The last thing he sees is the stars starting to shine through the window.