Chapter 1: new beginnings
Chapter Text
Tommy looked at Puffy with a frown on his face. His backpack had holes all over them and his clothes were close to spilling out, then again there wasn't much to lose anyways. The only benefit here was that this new foster home would likely have a shower, having a shower would be great. He was cold and tired, from hiding out on the streets to avoid his previous foster 'family'. Those assholes were so far away from anything other than a shithole of cruel wolves, and Tommy thanked Prime he was far away from there now.
"Again?"
Puffy just drove with her eyes on the road, as if ignoring him. Tommy fidgeted with the cheap flip phone that Puffy had given him two years ago, even now he wasn't sure how he hadn't lost it. He'd lost most of his items over the years, tight socks and shirts with the color washed out. He looked over the bruises on his right arm, the concealer didn't cover much. Puffy had held his arm sharply, leaving nail marks as she dabbed the concealer into the bruising. His arm hurt more after instead of less, and he had learned to cover the wince when he stepped on his right leg. At least the other half of his body was fine, though he knew no matter how much it hurt he had to hide it. Tommy could not mess this up. Puffy made a sharp turn and drove into the gas mart.
"Twenty on four, don't steal them, I can see you from here."
Tommy tried not to roll his eyes but the urge to was too big to deny, so he just did while she gave him a disgusted glare. He knew Puffy didn't like him much, he knew she had the right to hold negative feelings against him. He was known as a problem child, he wasn't blind, but couldn't she at least try or pretend to? He considered stealing a Mountain Dew and dashing for the exit but it wasn't worth a night at the police station. The tired gas mart employee looked over Tommy as he paid, he wondered how he looked to others with his greasy hair and tired eyes, and for a small second he almost felt some kind of recognition. The moment was over before Tommy could stop his thoughts, and he somehow found himself in the car with Puffy, the complete silence choking him down.
"You're going to plaster a smile on that face when we get there and hopefully they'll pretend you don't look like a mess."
"I wouldn't if you had given me a place to shower and sleep in."
"What else, Tommy? A castle? A billion dollars? A family that loves you? Let's not get imaginative."
Tommy just sighed at that and looked outside, watching the buildings turn into trees. Fuck, this place was far, huh? A completely different area of the county, but he had promised himself he wouldn't get redistributed. So he would make this work, or hide out in the junk house until he turned eighteen. At sixteen though he really couldn't see himself making it through two years. Puffy would probably just smile and wipe her hands from the dirt that was dealing with Tommy. He didn't hate her, but it really sucked- this would surely suck too. Puffy didn't like warning him of the houses he was going to go into, "flight risk" yeah right. She just didn't want him to realize she was taking him to the shitty places.
"We are here."
Tommy snapped out of his daze and looked up at a home that looked like a middle class suburban mom's wet dream. He fought to push down the nausea building up in his throat, even worse when a way too young man opened his door. The beanie looked silly on his head, draped down like some kind of oversized cloth on a small plushie. He had stereotypically nerdy glasses and a freckle on the side of his face. He looked not even near twenty- was his case this desperate? He knew that some people fostered young to help with university bills or something but it was so rare he had never expected to face it-
"I'm Wilbur."
The man awkwardly stretched out his hand, a soft brown bracelet around his wrist and the sleeves of his yellow sweater drooping down pathetically as well. Was that just the man's entire fashion style? Seemed to fit the general demeanor, but he noticed Puffy scrunch up her nose, a classic sign of anger.
"Mr.Philza is supposed to be fostering Tommy."
"Right- I'm Phil's- his foster son, I- uhh, shouldn't have answered the door. He's inside, I can lead you to him, once I find him."
"Let's not waste each other's time."
Puffy shook her head while scribbling on her notepad, which seemed to cause Wilbur active anxiety. Ironic considering no matter what Tommy would have to be here. No matter how much Wilbur or Philza wasted their time. Tommy moved his face closer to the notepad, noticing Puffy was writing down her next recipe ideas for the week. Times like these made Tommy appreciate the cold woman- moments where she would put foster parents in their place, or lecture cruel kids at the center, times when her cheaply painted burgundy nails passed him Kleenex. She didn't seem to care, but sometimes she wasn't an asshole about it. Those times were a win in Tommy's book.
The Wilbur guy gave her an awkward half-smile, and then looked towards Tommy.
"I'll go for Phil."
Chapter 2: interesting
Summary:
This house will be interesting.
Chapter Text
"Hello, Puffy."
Puffy gave a slightly annoyed look to the man with a blonde braid, he looked in his mid-forties. She didn't seem pleased with him.
"It's Ms.Puffy."
She enunciated his name like a disgusting medical term for a disease and he visibly winced at this interaction but smiled after a second.
"My apologies, Ms.Puffy. My name is Philza but you can call me Phil. And you are-"
Tommy sighed, realizing for the first time since the twenty minutes of waiting for Philza, that his quiet was going to be disturbed.
"Tommy."
"Tommy, what?"
Tommy wanted to get out of this house already, done with Philza's clear double-faced smiles and Puffy's obvious annoyance at this entire situation.
"Tommyinnit."
"Well, Tommyinnit, let Wilbur show you around. Me and Ms.Puffy have some paperwork to go through."
Tommy nodded, displeased that Philza had taken up the habit of calling him his full name. He shrugged it off, nothing to be done now, and he scurried along to where Wilbur was sitting, near what seemed like the kitchen, evident by the buzzing of the fridge. Wilbur looked violently near throwing up and Tommy figured maybe this house wouldn't be so bad to deal with. Just one 'brother' who seemed too scared and nervous? Blessing in disguise. He gave himself a moment to look over the man, he seemed kind of pretty actually. His hair was a weird mix between wavy and straight, possibly because it was tangled, and the caramel brown color of it reminded Tommy of toffee candy he used to steal from a convenience store near a previous foster home. The memory held warm in Tommy's fingers and it calmed him down a slight bit. The man in front of him, however, seemed not much near calm than previously. His beanie seemed a step away from falling off his hair and his forehead revealed glistening sweat drops.
"I'm Tommy, the new foster kid. You're supposed to show me the house."
Wilbur visibly recoiled and Tommy almost felt something near guilt or pity, but he reminded himself it was regret in case Wilbur did turn out a threat. That was his thought process for it anyways. Wilbur nodded, whispering something to himself and lead Tommy up the stairs. He made a sharp turn, avoiding the two rooms in the left, the nearest one clearly had light on. The other rooms on the right, consisted of two rooms. Wilbur waltzed into the bigger one.
"This is my room."
Tommy gave him a quizzical look, it seemed more of a living room than an actual bedroom. There was a guitar hung on the wall and boxes filled to the brim with records. A big tv stood on top of a cabinet, and pillows on the floor made it clear that someone constantly sat near the screen and played the Xbox on the cabinet. There was a simple blanket on the couch at the far end of the room and as a sleeping accommodation it seemed so utterly far from comfortable Tommy couldn't understand how someone could claim they slept on it.
"Nice."
A simple answer that seemed to disappear Wilbur's worries, who smiled at him and started rambling excitedly about his records. Something about guitar solos and how he organized his music on mood.
"They're the only thing I care about, Tommy, these discs."
Tommy nodded in something that seemed near understanding and Wilbur, seemingly in a better mood from his small ramble went along the corridor to the last
"This is going to be your room."
Where they that unwilling to spend on the foster kid? Tommy's heart sank as he stared at an old mattress on the floor next to a near empty closet, holding only two hangers and with a single deodorant on the floor toppled over on the floor. It was a depressing sight compared to the rather decently sized house. Tommy was used to not getting his hopes up for single rooms or his own bed when he went to most foster homes. But those made it clear from the go that there was little to go around and what little there was- was to be shared. Wilbur clearly noticed Tommy's dejected facial expression.
"Phil says we can get you a new bed, whichever you choose in two weeks when his next paycheck comes in."
Two weeks, Tommy didn't even expect to last that long, then again he would make do. The mattress looked more comfortable than his usual living situations, and then again the floor was clean and the house likely had no bug problem. If anything it could be far worse.
"From his job?"
Tommy isn't shocked Philza has a job, he just wants to know which, unsure if the question is too much.
"He makes content."
Tommy shot him a look, that Wilbur clearly didn't comprehend, as he swallowed down a laugh.
"What like porn?"
Instead of a laugh or an amused look, Wilbur just looked slightly disgusted and nauseous.
"No, my foster parent doesn't do- He makes Minecraft packages and designs."
"Should've said that instead of being all cryptic."
Wilbur shrugged and Tommy packaged the thought that Wilbur wasn't a biological son into his mind. Interesting. This house was going to be very interesting.
Chapter 3: biological
Summary:
Biological kids are a threat.
Chapter Text
Wilbur led Tommy to the next room, showing him how the shower works and the cabinet. The toilet seemed clean and so did the sink. Tommy sighed a small relief at the fact the house was in fact not bug infected or filled with filth. He reminded himself he was used to much worse.
"What about the other room?"
Wilbur clearly winced, interesting. Who was in the room with the light?
"It's better not to bother her right now."
Foster mom, huh? Did Philza's wife ignore him? Marriage issues were always relevant for the paper they played in foster homes. Wilbur clearly noticed Tommy's eyes scrunched up, deep in thought and he sighed, as if giving up some otherworldly secret.
"You'll meet Phil's daughter soon enough."
Tommy's heart stopped, trying to hide his grimace. Biological kids were never good news and Wilbur clearly seemed to understand the reaction as he ignored it entirely and moved downstairs, where Puffy called Tommy over.
"We went over the papers, Tommy, if you need me call out."
Puffy fluffed through Tommy's hair, and she seemed almost unsure if to truly leave him here but then she shrugged it off and left. Tommy knew her words were more soft comforting words than anything else. She wouldn't come for him except if he was about to be in the hospital or a police case could be built. And he knew this was the last home, it was this or a new district. Even Puffy seemed to notice how much staying in district mattered to Tommy.
"Well then, Tommy, anything you need?"
Trick question, Tommy wasn't new to this whole thing. He thought if there was anything worth risking punishment for then nodded.
"May I take a shower?"
Polite, concise and understanding. Hopefully wouldn't be misunderstood into anything bratty or wouldn't mean someone getting spiteful. Philza just nodded and Tommy mouthed him a soft 'thank you', before he dumped his backpack and took out a set of barely fitting clothes into his hand. It would have to do, he swiftly moved towards the room but instead was stopped by Wilbur, who motioned him to stop.
"I have something for you."
It was a foster kid kind of whisper, the one where you hid things from the adults. Tommy considered ignoring the man but he knew better. Maybe Wilbur secretly had an angry strike or this was some kind of test. Better not to test that. He followed Wilbur to his 'room' and sank into the couch as he waited. Listening to Wilbur silently shuffle through his things, he wasn't as quiet as Tommy usually would be but it was probably the lack of practice. Wilbur handed him a seemingly never worn red shirt and plaid sleeping shorts, they seemed at least considering the length.
"Philza?"
Wilbur knew the question implied and decisively shook his head.
"Won't know, I never wore these."
Tommy nodded and motioned to his clothes, Wilbur motioned to give them to him. Tommy gladly handed over the clothing that had nasty memories ingrained into it and barely fit him. Wilbur carefully placed them into a small bag he had hidden behind his cabinet. Tommy moved back to the hallway and shifted to the bathroom. He triple checked the locked door then finally turned on the water to medium- hot. He wanted it to burn but didn't want to get lectured over the water bill. As he waited for the water to reach the appropriately excruciating temperature, he popped a pea- shaped drop of shampoo onto his palm and dug it into his hair, using the sink for some water. It bubbled quite quickly and then he rubbed body wash all over himself, ignoring his right arm covered in bruising. He wasn't sure when he'd be able to buy up new concealer, most foster families saw bruises as coyotes smelled bleeding on a bunny. Made it into easy prey, and Tommy would not become this new foster home's punching bag. Wilbur seemed nice but it could all be a phase or a facade. Maybe Wilbur would expect Tommy to owe him something back for all the support. Then again in comparison to the mysterious foster daughter and the odd foster father, Wilbur was nice.
Tommy's worries seemingly evaporated as he let the water burn his skin, leading it to a brighter color. It felt comforting in a way nothing else ever could. And he focused on other issues, like how he'd ask about bus routes and memorize the houses of the nearby neighborhood. When he'd get written into school and how he'd keep bullies off his back there. Once he dried, he allowed himself to openly limp in the comfort of the bathroom. Only alone could he ever be his true self, an instinct ingrained from foster home four. He was much younger back then, just thirteen. Having gotten into the foster system at eleven, he can't say he didn't see it coming- being given up. Now he was half way to sixteen- The thought caused a shiver down his spine, and he vowed to not let that memory back. He dressed himself up into the given clothes, and found them quite natural. Though he wished he had clean boxers to change into, that would be the next challenge. As he exited however, he saw the quick movement of a pink braid holding some giant plate in front of him into the previously locked room, and then a click. He assumed the door was locked again and sighed. So much for catching a glimpse or learning about the biological daughter.
Chapter 4: wilbur
Summary:
Wilbur is odd.
Chapter Text
Tommy entered the room, hunger churning in his stomach. No one called him down however and he assumed maybe he wasn't getting an offer to be fed. He laid down onto his stomach, which hurt slightly less than the right side of his back, and allowed his mind to wander to days when he was able to play in the grass fields before summer ended. The imagery kept Tommy filled even as his body yearned for sustenance. However, when Tommy opened up the cabinet, he found two granola bars and a small blue Gatorade. 'Hope u like, -W' read on a small sticker with cursive handwriting. Fancy.
So was this what this house would be? Neglective father, taking care of yourself? Tommy sighed but collected his thoughts, it was much less bad then usual. Maybe Wilbur had some paternal instinct from the foster system in him, if he had someone in his corner Tommy wasn't so lost. Wilbur surely had to know his way around here. Tommy opened a granola bar and took a small sip of the Gatorade, making sure to keep the rest for safekeeping. He wasn't sure of this Wilbur guy's intentions yet, and of if this behavior would even keep up for longer than a week. Tommy would play it safe. He closed the closet door in case anyone else where to walk in and closed his eyes.
He awoke to two boots in front of him, boots he faintly remembering seeing on Philza, he rolled over to hold eye contact with the man.
"You never came down for dinner."
Had Tommy messed up so fast? A part of tommy didn't care, but when he tried to stand up and felt his entire body burn from previous beatings he quickly remembered the consequences of messing up. He forced himself to get back up anyways, hiding the urge to wince with every second.
"I'm sorry, Mr.Philza, I forgot."
"You can just call me Phil- or Philza."
Tommy thanked Prime that Philza had noticed his visceral tenseness at the thought of calling the grown man 'Phil'. He wasn't a foster kid with years in this house, nor even less was he biological.
"Okay, Philza. I wasn't aware family dinners were a thing-"
Before he had a chance to apologize for his snarky wording, Philza interrupted him.
"They're not. I do, however, leave food out in the fridge, and I'm sure Wilbur mentioned this to you while he showed you the kitchen, yes?"
Now Tommy was lost. Did Wilbur know Tommy would have been offered food regardless? Wilbur hadn't even showed him inside the fridge, much less warned him about family dinners. He did however get Tommy clothes and food- was Tommy willing to take a beating for the man? Then again, if he said Wilbur hadn't told him, Wilbur would stop giving Tommy things and he'd probably get a beating from the guy too.
"He did tell me, sir, I just forgot."
Philza seemed uncomfortable at being directed with 'sir' and Tommy found himself unsure of how this dynamic would be led.
"No need to call me 'sir', buddy."
Tommy was not four, he didn't need to be called 'buddy, he didn't like being called buddy. Philza seemed to notice this tension.
"You're free to call me Philza if you like, mate, but I'm your foster dad not your boss."
You say tomato, I say tomato. There was no difference in Tommy's book but he nodded as if he understood.
"My son-"
Tommy gave a confused look to Philza, wondering why Philza called his daughter, his son.
"Wilbur, he's an anxious fella but he's rather friendly."
Wilbur was his son? Wilbur called him his foster parent.
"It was a tough ride getting him to agree to being adopted, with the lack of trust and all, foster system does that. But he's a good soul."
Foster system does much more than that but Tommy just gave an understanding smile and nodded. That answered his question.
"He's- nice."
Overly anxious and clearly traumatized was also a relevant fit but Tommy wasn't going to say that. The entire situation was completely different now. Philza had a biological daughter and Wilbur had been adopted by the man. Tommy couldn't fathom how he fit into the picture. Extra cash probably. Philza however just smiled at the Tommy's small sentence, as if Tommy had giving him a million dollars and a Ferrari.
"I'm glad you agree, mate."
`"Well, we'll go sign you up for school tomorrow. Do you have any school supplies?"
Tommy winced, at most he could maybe sharpen up his cheap pencil and his almost fully filled up purple notebook. Then again, it was really torn so there wasn't much to be done on that front, he could thank his last house for that fact. Ripping up his work then blaming him for it and calling him crazy was a new low, and he was in foster care he really assumed there was no way his foster siblings would discover new lows he hadn't experienced.
"I'll take that as a no, I probably have some extra supplies in my office, I can bring over some."
Tommy nodded and awkwardly stood in place, unsure of the protocol of what to do when his new foster dad wanted to give him stuff. Thankfully, Philza emerged from his dim room with a pack of markers, two pencils and a notebook. It would make do, and Tommy knew better than to ask.
"If you're missing anything else, you could ask my kids, I'm sure they'll lend you some stuff."
Tommy tried not to deflate at the wording, as if he needed reminders he was the outsider in this house. Either Philza didn't notice or pretended not to because the man just nodded and left the room. Tommy stood up and packed his backpack, holding it near the door. He eyed the window, attempting to tug it open, by the fifth push it squealed open. Tommy froze at how loud the motion was, especially when he heard footsteps nearing. He quickly opened the closet and hid.
"Tommy."
Wilbur, Tommy quietly pushed the door open and then stared at the man.
"Hold it open with this."
Tommy stared at the small piece of fabric, so Wilbur inched to the window and demonstrated the protocol. Placing the fabric between the door of the window and the wood on the bottom, opening it was now a soundless, though clearly more effort taking experience.
"Better safe than sorry."
It was a weird way of saying thank you and Wilbur accepted it with no issues.
"What was Phil talking to you about?"
Was this a test for Tommy's loyalty? There seemed to be a right answer.
"Nothing much, just school supplies."
This seemed to calm Wilbur down and he nodded.
"Did you like the snacks?"
"Yeah."
"I can get you more later, I assumed you wouldn't want to be downstairs yesterday- Philza pretends otherwise but he definitely would've talked to you. On the weekends it's a safer bet that he won't be home in the mornings. He also works most days on weekdays."
Tommy felt a twinge of gratitude at the useful information but Wilbur paused in front of him, as if a question on his mind.
"Did your case worker not talk to you about all this?"
Tommy shook his head and felt a weird sense of protectiveness over Puffy's behavior. Sure it was messed up, but she was Tommy's only help in this messed up system. Though again, the system would feel less messed up with a good case worker.
"Hmm, she's scary."
Tommy shrugged as if showing how little care he supposedly gave this fact.
"I guess I'll have to fill you in on some stuff."
"I guess so."
Chapter 5: talk
Summary:
Wilbur and Tommy have a talk about the house.
Chapter Text
Wilbur shuffled around the room as he rubbed his hands together in some kind of weird anxious cycle.
"He won't hit you."
Tommy nodded, that was always a good start, though he'd never truly believe it from all the years he had been in the foster system for. Tommy assumed this meant hitting wasn't currently or constantly on the table in general. This house wouldn't keep him and it wouldn't be any better. Though he hoped he could stay around for a while more, then maybe a place in the district group home would open up and Puffy would actually listen to Tommy for once. He still didn't understand why Puffy had a habit of avoiding putting kids into the center for longer than a month. Tommy liked it there more than any of the other places he's been in since he got into the system. At least at the group home he knew what he was facing.
"He doesn't like screaming within arguments."
Tommy paused looking up at the fidgeting man.
"He doesn't?"
"No, it actually is a thing he like super hates. You can't ever scream at people here. Trust me."
Wilbur winced as if some painful memory.
"And he still didn't hit you?"
Yet. Wilbur nodded, a soft smile on his face as if he was realizing how great this actually was.
"I wasn't allowed to leave the house for three weeks, can you imagine?"
Tommy whispered out a roughened 'yikes', it seemed like a big deal just for some screaming.
"And you just yelled at him?"
"Yeah, the usual stuff- 'I hate you, I'm leaving this shithole', all that."
The cursing sounded odd on Wilbur's usually polite, albeit overly unstable and anxious, voice. Tommy liked the sound of it however, even if it seemed wrong. The way the syllables curled into Wilbur's tongue and were breathed out as if something unspeakable.
"I see. What about the daughter?"
Wilbur's eyes ran over Tommy, as if analyzing something.
"Techno? Yeah, she could beat you, easy."
"I'm sure I'd last in a fight."
Tommy felt kind of insulted by the insinuation he was weak, and by how easily Wilbur had decided Tommy wouldn't be able to handle it. Wilbur just gave a soft chuckle as if Tommy's words had been impossible.
"Yeah for two minutes, tops."
Tommy frowned but Wilbur didn't take the words back. It didn't seem like a challenge or an insult, but even so he felt uncomfortable.
"You're a good kid, Tommy, and I have your back."
A part of Tommy swells in joy as he hears those words but even so he promises himself he will figure out what Wilbur is trying to gain here. Then again the guy seems too anxious to hurt him, though you never know after all. Wilbur gives him a comforting smile as Tommy is deep in thought. Wilbur knows the foster system, it's a small comfort, but Tommy knows he's never going to be on the same level as an adopted kid. That's just an obvious fact.
"So-"
And Tommy knew that here comes the part were Wilbur wants a favor back.
"Philza doesn't allow me to shoplift food anymore, he would kill me. I'm like 'his' now, or whatever. But you're just a foster kid coming through."
Tommy was aware of the implications, no matter what Tommy could leave even if Philza found out about the shoplifting and hurt him. Tommy wasn't legally his, and if pushed enough he could make sure Philza wanted him gone. He didn't like the idea of being distributed to another district, but as long as he kept his head down maybe he could get back into the group home. At this point, all his misbehavior had earned him a place in the more strict group homes for kids that did really bad things, like armed robberies or setting their parents on fire. He wasn't any better after all.
"I see, any preferred snacks?"
"Gummies, soda, electrolyte water, protein bars."
Tommy found it curious how the first two were just unnecessary sugar and the second two were the usual for foster kids in the system. At one point one learns to prioritize anything that takes away hunger for however long, as some foster homes refuse to feed their kids. Neglect isn't seen as bad as abuse. He just nodded.
"Does he starve you?"
Wilbur shook his head, his entire body having strong tremors and his breath all shaky and unsure. He seemed to be having a flashback, he covered his mouth and made a choked sound, almost like a swallowed back sob. Tommy just awkwardly stood there, unsure of how to help or even try. He opened up the closet door and took out his half drank Gatorade and passed it to Wilbur. This seemed to have an immediate effect and the man calmed down. The silence enveloped their proximity, with Tommy standing uncomfortably in front of the man who seemed still anxious and looked much more tired from near view. Tommy noticed eyebags he had never taken account of before, they sharply contrasted with Wilbur's pale skin. His lips were chapped and slightly bloody, Tommy's eyes stayed on Wilbur's face for longer than necessary. Neither pointed this out.
"Any other questions?"
"Are you sure?"
Wilbur nodded and Tommy realized the man was hoping for a distraction so Tommy went through all the questions in his mind and chose one.
"What about Techno?"
"What about her?"
"Any rules with her?"
Wilbur paused then nodded.
"She hates it if you come into her room without knocking, she'll start screaming- and considered Philza's rules about that it never ends well."
Tommy winced, the reaction seemed extreme for a biological kid whose parents didn't hit her, but he still nodded along.
"She's also really buff and may look very-"
Wilbur paused, as if unsure of how or if to at all say what he meant, Tommy motioned for the boy to continue.
"Masculine. Don't make any rude comments or questions, she's a girl."
Interesting, Tommy had seem the muscular back of the girl when her hair swished through the halls, but he hadn't assumed it was worth a warning.
"Oh, and she's a big quiet person, don't disturb that. She's cold and has a sarcastic, kind of mean sense of humor. If she hurts you, don't show it, she'll get awkward. She once apologized to me about it-"
Tommy snorted, a biological kid apologizing to a foster? He'd love to see that.
"-yeah, it was awful. She seemed ready to throw up on me and it seemed so ungenuine."
Maybe Philza taught her to, knowing the things he know knew of the man, he wasn't sure what to think at all.
"You'll be fine, Tommy, you have me now."
Tommy believed it.
Chapter 6: meeting tech
Summary:
Maybe this Techno girl doesn't suck.
Chapter Text
Tommy listens this time and comes down for dinner, Philza looks exhausted as he simmers a pot full of warm food. He seems to be whispering something under his breath in pure irritation. Whether it's related to his job or cooking, Tommy can not be sure. Wilbur gives him a soft smile from the side.
"Do you want me to help?"
Philza's eyes move to Tommy and then Wilbur, sighing and eventually nodding in affirmation.
"You boys can take care of it. When you're done, bring over Techno a plate, alright?"
Tommy gives Wilbur a look that he hopes signals 'what?' and 'why does she get a pass and we don't?', he just gives Tommy a shrug. Then again they both know the answer to the second question, an answer Tommy needs no reminder of. Tommy moves over to the pot as Wilbur seasons the cheesy pasta with garlic and pepper, he plops bits of tomato sauce and spicy sauce into the mix. Tommy rolls his eyes at the messiness of the whole ordeal, with bits of seasoning on the kitchen counter, but he continues to mix the food together. Neither of them can deny the smell is exquisite, Tommy risks burning his tongue for a bite of food and then hands Wilbur a piece. Wilbur hums with glee at the flavor.
"Masterpiece."
"Agreed."
They continue to cook in silence, not trusting the open kitchen and not having much new to say.
"So, shall we?"
Wilbur walks Tommy up the stairs as he holds the plate of soft pasta with melted cheese. Wilbur knocks on the door as Tommy considers an escape plan, but the fact he at least has someone seemingly on his side prevents him.
"Techno, your dad told us to bring you your food."
Footsteps are heard and the door is opened violently, the first thing he notices is the same pink hair he saw a speck of in the hall. The woman in front of him is- masculine to say the least, but Tommy reminds himself of Wilbur's warning. However Tommy can't stop himself from wondering if the girl in front of him is on steroids. She has broad shoulders, dark eyes from the raccoon-like eyeliner, her hair is bright and takes attention away from the pink lip gloss staining her lips.
"He's your dad too, Wil."
Wilbur sticks his tongue out at her and rolls her eyes.
"And you are-?"
Tommy shifts to focus as he notices he is unexpectedly asked something.
"Uh- Tommy, TommyInnit?"
"Right. Sorry I didn't meet you, I've been busy."
The wording seemed off and she didn't seem sorry at all, but her new-found lack of interest in him after she found out his name allowed Tommy some time to analyze her more. She had soft gray nail polish with pink dots on it, and her clothing seemed almost medieval. Tommy didn't want to judge but the overt shows of femininity looked a bit ridiculous on such a masculine body. Her face was also very angular, and her voice was deep enough for a girls, though it wouldn't be too deep if it were a mans. Even so, he almost as if could see an outline of an Adam's Apple, could women even have those? Tommy found himself concerningly curious about Techno now. Even so, she paid him no mind, rambling to Wilbur about some new song, and how overrated the rest of the album was.
"What's this loser looking at me for?"
"Techno."
"What? I'm not like trying to be mean, but the unblinking staring is honestly creeping me out, Wil."
Tommy tried to shake off the habit, and instead looked into her dark eyes.
"Sorry."
"Whatever, kid."
"He's not much older than you."
Tommy found himself shocked at this and it was easy to notice on his face. Wilbur whispered something to the girl and her mouth fell open.
"He's only a year below me?"
Wilbur nodded as she came out of the line separating them from her and moved slowly in a circle, as if analyzing the boy back.
"How?"
Wilbur gave one of his laughs and that made a part of Tommy's tension from this meeting soften.
"What about you, Wilbur?"
Tommy finds himself a bit surprised with the realization this hadn't come up early, and he feels an usual shiver down his spine when he realizes another kid in a foster house knows more about him than he does about the kid. Wilbur just gives him a smile.
"I'm at the community college near L street."
Tommy's face drops. Community college? He knew some kids went there, the losers who could barely pass high school. Was Wilbur really that bad at his subjects or had Philza refused to pay for any tuition so Wilbur was desperate enough? Techno seemed to follow Tommy's expression as she snorted.
"He doesn't seem impressed, dude."
"Whatever, Techno, at least I know what I want to do with my life."
"Oh, right, your major in future poverty and drug addiction- oh I mean music, sorry misspoke. I'd rather not, a girl can take her time to choose."
"Sure, sure, Techno, keep laughing about my career. Once I'm a famous trillionaire-"
"Having minus a trillion dollars in your account doesn't count as trillionaire. Does the college not teach you any math?"
"-I won't invite you to my awesome shows."
"You mean the ones you'll be doing under the bridge?"
"Yeah, one of those fancy bridges the rich dudes go to listen to cool songs."
"Oh no, I meant like a bridge filled with homeless people and fent needles-"
"Geez, Tech, you can't say that around the kid-"
"-you just said he's almost my age."
"Yeah but he's pure, unlike you."
"You're going to be even less pure if you major in music, with all the groupies you'll have."
"Oh so you agree music majors get tons of women?"
"Absolutely not-"
As they bickered on about majors, Tommy thought for a second that maybe this Techno girl didn't suck as much as he had thought.
Chapter 7: school
Summary:
Tommy is worried for school.
Chapter Text
Somehow, this leads to Tommy being invited into Techno's room all alone, as Wilbur goes for their plates of food from downstairs. His heart drops once he's inside, having expected girly posters or cutouts of male singers, he instead faces a wall filled with knives. The knives, thankfully, are securely placed but this seems to give them an even more intimidating appearance. If that wasn't enough, Techno seems to have a shrine, or well a whole part of her bookcase, filled with random war-related media. Movie discs, videogames, magazines, books- Techno noticed his disturbed look and shrugged.
"They're my collection."
Great, Tommy was in a room alone with a girl who collected knives and war content for fun. She also had the build of someone who could snap him in half. To say Tommy was willing to go to crazy lengths to evacuate the area was to say the least. What was taking Wilbur so long? Tommy sighed and then looked around the rest of the room, after that shocking fright, nothing else seemed to sketchy. Her bedsheets were bubblegum pink, a concerning contrast with the weaponry on one of the walls, and the rest of her bookcase had books of seemingly random topics. Coding, plants, a guide to becoming a librarian, crocheting, a book on Chinese history, an encyclopedia, and many magazines on how to gain muscle. On top of her table, outside of the extensive amount of bracelets and hair ties of varying tones of pink and gray, there were wrestling medals, tucked into a corner of the area. Her bed seemed clean though her brown leather chair had a heap of clothes on it and her laundry basket was overfilled-
"I'm back!"
Wilbur, thankfully.
"Were you guys just quiet the whole time?"
Techno shrugged and laid down onto her bed, leaving her finished plate on her table.
"I think the kid is analyzing me."
"I'm right here, you know?"
Techno shrugged to Tommy's response and went back to ignoring him, braiding her hair instead.
"Excited to start school tomorrow?"
Tommy glanced at Wilbur as Techno gave a short laugh.
"Who would be excited to go to that boring place?"
He rarely described school as boring, since he was in the system schools were places filled with drama, fights and drugs. That, however, was because Tommy was sent more to the cheap and 'dangerous' parts of the district, schools with little funding, streets with violence, kids smoking weed across the corner, stores that never asked for ID nor asked about how you were doing when you walked in with bruises all over you. And the good areas, the two times Tommy had faced anything that could be called that, he had learned to keep his head down, show politeness but detachment. In either case, he would remember and remind that he was just another foster kid coming through. In and out, he'd be gone before they halfway forgot him already. However, the small but well maintained suburban house seemed to signal a good lifestyle, not rich but well above the poverty line. Middle class, he would assume, and it seemed a soft joy in a way, though he had gotten so used to poor.
"I don't know."
Wilbur nods in understanding as Techno hums, as if accepting the response and showing she had listened, but too lazy to say more.
"What's it like?"
"Calm, usually, boring. I like it."
Techno scoffed at Wilbur's response but nodded.
"There isn't much wrong crowd there. The teachers can be overbearing, and petty if you point it out, but some of them mean very well. Hell, I've had a counselor on my back since I started high school, telling me to get a sport scholarship for university. Too bad I don't know what to study."
Tommy isn't sure how he feels about it.
"There are some problematic folk, and they do sadly blend in with the system, if you don't then you'd be kicked out, you know? But they're recognizable, they all have these smiley face beanies. They think it's scary and tough, I think it makes them look like five years olds. That's how strong they can fight anyways."
"You've fought them before?"
Tommy curses himself for asking something instead of just awaiting information but she doesn't seem upset at the question.
"Sadly, I fought their leader. He isn't one to fight fair however, tried to involve his friends."
"Yikes."
"Five to one is no easy match, even for me."
Tommy is no new man to unfair fights, his entire life has been pressed on by such. The way he felt conflicted by stability, calmness. Silence was a threat louder than screams and more lethal than punches.
"You'll be fine, Tommy."
Wilbur seemed to be comforting the boy more than anything, as Wilbur took out his phone and Techno made grabby hands. She seemed deep in focus as she played some, in Tommy's opinion mind numbing, videogame about placing blocks together. Tommy sighed, only time would tell.
Chapter 8: first day of school
Summary:
Tommy starts school.
Chapter Text
First day in a new school is always stressful. Tommy knew this, so why was he so naive to expect otherwise? Maybe it's the way Philza had left them pancakes on the counter and served him orange juice in a cup, the stereotypic image of a white, suburban family. Happy, joined- if Tommy didn't remember his circumstance, he'd even feel like he's one of them. A ridiculous thought, he understood this, but this familial nurturing feeling was so real it was hard to push down and make fun of. Tommy felt this way as he usually felt about plushies back before home number two, when he realized any childishness was to be punished. He quit his affectionate addiction for the stuffed animals, as much as he still craved them when he walked around the supermarket at times.
The halls were overwhelming to say the least, Tommy knew this was a trick of his mind, it was a small, decent school in a good area- yet somehow
Tommy felt more and more uneasy. Blame it on the foster kid instinct but he expected it to all fall apart somehow, revealing a much deeper, darker truth. He felt like a satanic panic believer, and yet this is what had kept him safe, a mistrust so deep in his veins it couldn't be cut out. Not that Tommy was having any yearning for cutting at the moment- well, maybe a bit. Then again, he had more of an urge to cut it all off and run for the woods, but he reminded himself he had to stay. The only thing that seemed to calm him down was the music on his phone. Yet that was stopped to a halt as well when he entered the principal's office and was, rather unkindly, informed listening to music was not allowed on campus as it was an 'academic distraction and accident risk'. Now Tommy was really missing schools with gangs and fights out in the hall, the smell of cheap weed and burnt vapes reeking out of the bathrooms at all times, the teachers overworked, underpaid and screaming at their students from inside classrooms. Pretending to be a goody two shoes was exhausting, and no one in this place seemed interesting.
He hated to admit it but Techno was right, this place was boring. The lack of adrenaline, fear, panic, creating a nauseous inferno of comfort in his mind- well, it was odd to say he missed it. He had been fidgeting with his sleeve as he nestled into his seat, hoping he would at least get too doodle and ignore the teacher in his classroom. All in all, maybe this school wouldn't even allow that, he sighed. Then, he heard someone plop next to his seat, great, he sighed louder hoping the person would get the gist and at least have the decency to ignore him. No such luck either, he turned towards the boy who had fluffy brown hair and seemed overeager to meet him.
"Hi, I'm Tubbo!"
"Uhuh?"
"Are you new?"
"Uhuh."
"That's so exciting!"
"Uhuh."
Yet this Tubbo guy caught no clue and seemed drowning in pure joy to have a new victim to pester. Tommy shook his head in annoyance with the realization that maybe he'd have to indulge this guy until the teacher comes in, which surprisingly he's looking forward to now. Not that there's ever any other scenario in which he'd look forward to Algebra out of anything else.
"I'm Tommy."
"Yay! Nice to meet you, Toms. Can I call you Toms."
Tommy grimaced but nodded.
"Nevermind! Tommy is more fun to say anyways!"
And yet, when the guy invited Tommy to sit down next to him, Tommy felt a small kind of happy pang of joy in his heart, just as Tubbo seemed to. Another guy joined them, someone much shyer and quiet.
"This is Ranboo!"
Ranboo was nowhere as excited and extroverted as his best friend, as he fidgeted with his sleeves and avoided eye contact.
"Sorry, they're kind of shy."
"They?"
Did Ranboo have multiple personality disorder or was Tubbo's English just really bad.
"Yeah, they use they/them."
"Isn't that for multiple people only."
Of course not!"
Ranboo, they? looked rather anxious at the mention of this.
"There's- no need to argue, but uh- yeah."
"I don't get it but uhh, sure? I'll use they."
Tubbo's enthusiasm was so contagious Tommy accepted the odd request. Ranboo seemed calmer once Tommy had said this, and they nodded calmly. Tommy didn't know it yet, a part of him did but he was not close to comfortable with the idea, but he was going to end up becoming very attached to the two. And when he arrived back home, ignoring Wilbur's curious glances, 'how did it go?' spoken in every motion. He fed himself pasta and laid down onto the couch, turning the tv on low volume. He never knew what was 'too loud' in every household so he usually went for the safe options, even if he could barely hear the dialogue of the two characters arguing on screen. The detective series droning on in the background as Tommy filled his stomach. He assumed maybe this place would be decent enough for a while, and maybe school wouldn't be so bad...
Chapter 9: Sapnap
Summary:
Tommy meets Sapnap.
Chapter Text
It's the fourth day of school, Tommy runs out of his biology class, happy to be done with dissecting frogs. He had never liked cutting things up, the violence and blood of it. Ranboo had surprised him with their precise hand and their soft rambles on what being 'nonbinary' was, attempting to explain it to Tommy. Meanwhile, they were dissecting a frog as if it was the most normal thing in the entire world. And yet, when he exits the hall and marches to his other class, there's something odd that catches his eye. He can't put a word for it, but he can't ignore it, as he tells Ranboo to go ahead without him. He walks through the hall that is less bright that the others, as he hears whispers of deep voices bickering. They come to a close shut as Tommy gives himself away with a misstep, a guy steps out of the classroom, clearly annoyed by being caught or by the interruption. He smells of cologne, dirt and weed, and his hair is messily placed on his forehead. He has a white hoodie with brown pants, the hoodie itself has brown highlights as well, matching with his darker brown or maybe black ish hair. He looks more than mildly bored as he observes the boy in front of him.
"What do you need, maggot?"
Tommy stops with a shocking pang, it feels as if he's stepped through a time machine or teleported. This is nothing like the goody goody school that he has faced until now, the tone reminds him of bullies in the horrible schools he's been in before. Maybe it's the nostalgia or the self destructive yearning but he feels a natural pull to the guy cleaning out his fingernails as he peels a smiley face beanie back onto his head. Tommy mildly remembers some mention of this somewhere and his mind helpfully supplies him with the word 'danger'. Yet Tommy seems to desire this very danger in front of him, the lack of adrenaline is killing him and ripping him to shreds.
"Your beanie-"
A clearly unhelpful response as the guy scowls and his friend, disheveled and wearing a purple hoodie appears. He's blushing and embarrassed as he looks at the other guy, but turns bored as he notices Tommy.
"What's he still doing here?"
Tommy trips over his words and over himself.
"He seems curious about my beanie."
"Doesn't he know curiosity killed the cat?"
The two bicker or joke about him as if he's not there, Tommy has no idea how to feel about the entire situation.
"So, blonde boy, what's your name?"
Tommy isn't sure if to lie. On one side giving people like them his name is a horrible idea, especially now that he remembers where he heard about the beanie and from who, but at the same time the risk isn't worth it if he's caught. He sighs and gives in.
"Tommy."
"Tommy? Boring! My name is Sapnap."
So now Tommy can put a name to the beanie guy, and his friend snickers in the background, which earns a response from Sapnap.
"And that's Karl."
Karl looks annoyed and upset, in a way that seems semi-joking, at the fact his name was revealed.
"Yoo, dude, you can't just tell anyone what our names are! Dream's rule."
Tommy assumes 'Dream' is some kind of code word for a rulebook or a law these, probable gang member, dudes go by. He shrugs at the thought, deep down he could care less.
"Whatever, man, what can that twig do to us?"
And it's Tommy's turn to feel annoyed and upset as he realizes the 'twig' in this situation is him, he rolls his eyes.
"I'm no twig, Sapboy!"
Karl snickers at Tommy's response, in a way Tommy isn't sure he likes or dislikes. He runs his eyes over the guy, for all the joking and seemingly false cruelty, he isn't wearing a beanie. His hoodie is however, tugged into in a way that covers his neck. Either to hide bruises or- that's ridiculous. Tommy shakes off the silly thought, there's no way those two are? Then again the seemingly flirty interactions make sense, as even their bickering had a subtone of affection and desire. He could care less, so he didn't understand why he was getting into this.
"What are you doing here anyways? This is our part of the campus."
Tommy scoffs at the silly idea.
"You don't 'own' a part of the campus."
Sapnap's nice joking facade, or what seems to have been it, falls through and the guy in front of him is truly intimidating. The frown on his face causes Tommy actual fear and he almost shakes in his step. He's seen this face before on foster kids who see him as competition, as something to get rid of. There's no way the guy in front of him has ever been a foster, but it's so eerily similar it causes Tommy's skin to crawl and for the desire to sob crawl in. He obviously doesn't allow this for himself. Karl instead seems to give him a look of 'you fucked up'.
"As much as I could beat you to a pulp, I'm assuming you're new. So here's a chance, apologize, scurry, and face no consequence."
Yet Tommy knows a lie when he sees it and he gulps, preparing himself for a beating.
"Fuck you."
And then a guy in a green hoodie walks in, his beanie the same but green instead of the black one on Sapnap.
"Dream!"
Sapnap immediately seems worried and scared, as he stares at the guy in front of him. So that must be Dream.
Chapter 10: dream
Summary:
Tommy meets Dream.
Chapter Text
Dream seems older than the rest of them, probably nineteen or twenty. His body is clearly buff and he's tall, there's eyebags under his eyes, Tommy notes these things because they affect his survival. It's a foster kid thing and he's learned his way around it. Truth is, Dream is a big risk, Tommy can tell from the first minute he sees the man. It worries him, that the guy has all these friends behind him who seem definitely loyal and Tommy is outnumbered. Not that any of his friends would help, and he sure wouldn't involve his foster brothers. He shivers, attempting to hide it but clearly not doing a good job. Dream gives him a little look that shows that he also notices the fear radiating off of Tommy. Tommy tells himself to calm down, clenches his fists, prepares to run or fight. He attempts to remember how the halls were constructed, and worries on whether he will get in trouble for being late to class. Somehow, this doesn't seem to worry the upperclassmen next to him.
"So Tommy."
The way this Dream guy, ridiculous name by the way, rolls Tommy's name off of his tongue nauseates Tommy. He scowls at the man in front of him, a childish attempt at intimidation that is clearly not taken seriously by Dream or his friends.
"What are you doing in my halls?"
Just as the first time, Tommy can barely stop the ridiculousness from getting to him as he scoffs.
"These halls are owned by the school, Dream boat."
Dream scowls at the nickname and stares at Tommy with angry eyes. It's then that he realizes the darkness isn't eyebags but eyeliner. Does this guy think he's emo too or something? It makes it harder for him to take him seriously.
"Do not laugh at me, Toms."
Tommy winces at the nickname, but more specifically the tone of it. He, however, does not stand back and he puffs his chest out, attempting to appear even slightly more intimidating as he stares back at the older man. Then, Tommy decides he'll go for an older tactic of survival, distraction.
"Are you emo or something?"
He hears a snicker from Karl and sees Sapnap smile as he stares at the guy. Yep, they're definitely together or at least want to be. But the cute, romantic scene in front of him doesn't distract him from the fact he's attempting to shock his opponent, who instead seems frankly more insulted than anything. Dream walks closer to him, his dark eyes staring at the boy.
"Have you considered, that the eyeliner is scary?"
Tommy chuckles, now nervous, as the dark eyes stare back at him with an intensity that scares him. As if dark tides in the sea that would pull him in if he dived or if the weather got feistier. There was something absolutely terrifying about a stare looming as a threat. Tommy knew this from his own experience, and yet he couldn't help but understand the fact that just how bad everything felt was the bare minimum.
Sapnap in Karl watch in a mix of intimidation and awe as Dream continues to scare Tommy. There's something about the guy, about the entire situation that pulls Tommy closer, like a moth to fire.
"I'm new here."
It's a silly thing to admit but Dream looks over him, as if willing to forgive him for the situation.
"I see. Is that your odd form of apologize, blonde boy?"
Tommy attempts to not roll his eyes at the nickname and shrugs.
"You're not one for playing nice, huh?"
Tommy shrugs yet again, completely done with the conversation.
"Look, we could all kick your ass right now- and trust me, no one would care for you. That's the thing, we have complete and total control over these grounds. Not the principal, or the teachers, or the parents- will ever reach our level. So you can either say 'sorry' or face the consequences."
Tommy scoffed, he wasn't one for backing down from a fight or
"Three against one- not quite fair, you know?"
Dream scoffed in return, as if 'fair' was some childish word mumbled by a four year old.
"You don't obtain power through 'fair'. Quite the opposite."
Tommy could agree with that thought and he sighed.
"But there's another option."
"Is that so?"
Dream nodded and Sapnap gave him an odd look, as if wanting to say something but not trusting Tommy- or maybe, not trusting Dream to not be mad.
"Let's just say, I could let you go, without any punishment."
Tommy looked at Dream with a face of distrust, just as he felt under those words.
"What's the catch?"
"Nothing- well, except, you'd owe us a favor."
Tommy shook his head, he knew this game. He wouldn't fall for it, but also, he'd rather not get 'his ass kicked' by three much stronger opponents. He sighed, ready to admit his answer.
Jenny (Guest) on Chapter 1 Wed 17 Dec 2025 11:30PM UTC
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Olliva (Guest) on Chapter 5 Wed 15 Oct 2025 02:56AM UTC
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foggeduponstarz69 on Chapter 5 Wed 15 Oct 2025 03:09AM UTC
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