Chapter Text
He thinks maybe it's a good idea to head downstairs. If he stays in his room, he'll just end up feeling anxious and queasy. With a shaky determination, he throws off his blankets and stands up. Tommy absentmindedly scratches at the dried blood on his wrists, deciding it can wait to be cleaned. He quickly slips on his red jacket, zips it up, and grabs his favorite cuddly cow plushie, Henry, before snatching his phone from the nightstand. As he takes the first step downstairs, he can hear voices emanating from the kitchen. Checking the time on his phone once again, he sees it's already 9 AM - no wonder his family is awake. He continues his descent down the stairs, pleased to see that the living room has been tidied up. Approaching the kitchen, he spots Wilbur and Techno perched on the stools in front of the counter, while Phil stands on the other side, resembling a friendly bartender. Catching sight of Tommy, Phil looks up from his task and grins warmly.
"Good morning, Tommy," Phil greets him cheerily. Tommy responds with a little hum as he joins Wilbur on one of the stools. He settles Henry on his lap while Wilbur turns to him with a smile.
"Happy birthday, Toms. Do you want to open your presents now or later?" he asks. Tommy pauses, confused. Presents? Why does he have presents? Shrugging off his surprise, he replies nonchalantly,
"Might as well do it now." Wilbur's smile widens as he presents Tommy with an envelope. Tentatively, Tommy takes it from him and slowly opens it. Inside, there's a red card bearing the words "Happy Birthday Toms." Tommy looks up at Wilbur hesitantly, only for Wilbur to encourage him with a gentle nod. Carefully removing the card from the envelope, Tommy discovers that it plays a song when opened, and there's a twenty-dollar bill tucked inside. Tommy grabs the money and places it on the counter, his smile hidden as he clears his throat. Unbeknownst to him, Wilbur's face is beaming with delight. Tommy reads the heartfelt message written in the card, "Thank you for being the silliest and most amazing little brother. Happy Birthday, Toms." As the song continues playing, Tommy happily tunes out everything else.
I think I've lost my mind
Blurring the fact and the fiction
Whilst simultaneously fixing
Myself up with a girl named Panadol
Bite the tablet, elixir
Disintegrate, mouth's a mixer-
Tommy looks up at Wilbur, confused, but Wilbur looks giddy.
I think I've lost my mind
I think I've lost my mind
If I could just break one more night
Maybe I could wake up and feel alright
My optimistically set alarm clock time
Serves only to mock me with flashing lights-
"It's my song. The one you had been asking about. It's finished." Wilbur says with a smile on his face. Tommy looks up with wide eyes and then looks back down. Wilbur frowns a little and begins to fidget.
"Do you not like it? I um- I'm sorry, I didn't know if you were still interested in hearing it; I just thought that-" Wilbur's rambling gets cut off by Tommy attacking him with a hug. The brunette looks a little stunned before bringing up his arms and wrapping them around the younger.
"Thank you," Tommy whispers in his ear. Wilbur closes his eyes and smiles.
"You're welcome, Toms." Tommy pulls away and smiles at his brother. Techno places a small, plastic bag in front of Tommy. It's red and has a lighter red tissue paper peaking out from the top with a red envelope sticking out, it says Theseus in Techno's loopy, fancy writing. Tommy is a bit surprised that he went so far as to add tissue paper. Techno shrugged.
"I didn't want to just give you a card and some money. See, that would be very lazy of me." He turns and playfully glares at Wilbur. Wilbur snorts.
"In my opinion, it's better and easier to give someone money to spend on whatever they want rather than risk the possibility of getting them something and then they end up not liking it." Wilbur insisted. Techno shrugged again.
"Fair enough, but still lazy." Techno grins lightly, Wilbur sticks his tongue out and blows raspberries, Phil chuckles and shakes his head and Tommy is still sitting there listening to the brothers uselessly bicker. Phil looks at the youngest and smiles.
"Go on and open it, Toms, don't mind them." Phil urges gently. Tommy smiles and pulls the envelope out before deciding to open the bag first. He places the envelope on the counter and pulls the tissue paper out of the bag. He sees a few small toys in the bag. There is a small cube that he picks up, yep, an infinity cube. He picks up another cube, but this time it's a fidget cube. The bag has several more fidget toys in it that he doesn't care to get out right now. He looks at Techno and smiles.
"Thank you." He says. He is hesitant to hug his brother, considering the older one doesn't really like physical touch. Techno rolls his eyes with a smirk and opens his arms, the two wrap each other in a tight hug. They disconnect and Tommy picks up the envelope and rips into it before pulling out the card. It's just a regular piece of paper that's folded like a hamburger. Tommy snorts a little as it says "Happy Birthday?" in Techno's pretty handwriting on the front. Tommy opens it and there lay ten dollars in fives, he takes the fives and places them with the twenty dollar bill. He looks back at the card, "I may or may not have forgotten to get a card so this hopefully works." Wilbur looks at the one with pink hair.
"How did you remember to get an envelope but not a card?" He asks. Techno rolls his eyes.
"Listen, not all of us are as perfect as you." Wilbur looks exasperated, thinking about the conversation from earlier.
"Wha- but you were just going on about-" Wilbur gets interrupted.
"So Tommy what does the rest of it say?" Techno asks. Tommy smiles and looks back down at the card. "I don't really know what to say. Uh, you can be a bit of a little shithead at times, but I can deal with that because I love you. Happy birthday Theseus. -Technoblade" He finishes reading and looks at Techno. Tommy smiles and thanks him as Phil places two things in front of him, a plate of food and another card. He'd probably just throw the food back up, so he just grabs the envelope first. He tears it open and pulls the card out. It just says Happy Birthday in a pretty font. He opens it and grabs the hundred dollar bill that is sat inside, before he can marvel at it for too long, he places it on the counter. He reads the card, "Happy Birthday Toms! I didn't really know what to get you, but I hope this is good for you. Happy birthday Tommy. -Dad" Tommy looks up at Phil with a smile.
"Thank you." Tommy doesn't really know what to say. Today was supposed to be a sad day, his last day, his family is making it happy and part of him can't stand it while another part of him yearns for more of that affection. He wants to tell himself that his family cares and that they would help if they knew what he wanted to do to himself. What he already does to himself. Phil pushes the plate closer to Tommy. He can't help but feel a gag trying to reveal itself. It's not that the food looks unpleasant, matter of fact, he's sure it tastes wonderful, Phil has always been an incredible cook. But the smell of food, the idea of having to eat it makes him want to throw up and paralyze him until he's bent over the toilet, two fingers down his throat as he vomits up his insides. He can't imagine eating it. So against his better judgment, he pushes the plate away a little. Phil frowns.
"I have to use the bathroom, I'll be right back." He announces before grabbing Henry by the body then standing up and leaving to go to the bathroom. He can feel three pairs of eyes burning a hole into his back as he walks away. Upon entering the bathroom, he immediately locks the door. And takes a deep breath. Breathing the same air as his family was suffocating him, knowing what he had planned. His family actually got things for him. Not much, but still things. Even with them not having much money, they still got him stuff. He mostly just came into the bathroom to get away from the food, but he definitely needed a breather. This is fine. People usually give gifts to you when it's your birthday. Why is he so surprised? Tommy leans against the wall and carefully slides down it til he's sitting on the floor. The stuffed cow falls onto its side next to the blonde, and Tommy forgets about it. He brings his arms up and stares at his wrists which are both covered up by his hoodie sleeves. What would they do if they saw them? How would they react?
Oh my god, Tommy. Are you okay? Why would you want to do that?!
Of course, you would do something like that, attention seeker.
Don't make us out to be the bad guys! What if someone saw this out in public? What would they think of us?! Your family?
Stop faking it, I bet that's just fucking makeup, isn't it?
No, there is nothing wrong with you, you just need to get outside more.
I'm so sorry Toms.
Okay, he had to take a breath. He was freaking out over nothing. His family would never say such horrible things to him. Right? Why was he so sure that he was wrong about that fact? Wilbur is constantly stressed already. Techno is an Autistic, burnt-out, gifted kid. And Phil... God he was trying. He was trying so much that it hurts to know how shitty he gets treated at work. God, Tommy doesn't deserve to be upset about his life. He could have it so much worse.
Untreated PTSD, horrible trauma, Autism, ADHD, depression, anxiety, dissociation... Those don't sound horrible to you?
Maybe he deserved the shit he's been through! Because he's- he's a brat and- and spoiled and entitled and annoying and needy-
And a kid.
He's a kid.
He's an eleven-year-old kid.
About to be twelve.
It's his job to be annoyingly lovable, and needy and to act entitled. He's fucking eleven and the youngest. He's supposed to be the annoying little brother everyone acts like they hate. But they would still die for that child. He- he doesn't deserve it. Any of it. Tommy can feel tears rolling down his face at the pace of a snail. He slaps his hands over his eyes and begins rubbing at them as he sniffles. He presses the heel of his hands to his eyes as more tears pour out. He has to calm down. He can't back out there until he is fine again. He quickly pushed himself off of the floor and stumbled to the sink as he took shaky breaths in and more tears leaked. He turned on the water and dunked his head under the water. Scrubbing at his eyes until they are red. He rises up, coughing a little and panting. He slowly turns the water off. And takes deep breaths. He's hyperventilating, he thinks. He is. The walls are closing in. They are? Everything is too hot and too cold at the same time. It is? His shirt and jeans are so scratchy. Why?
He can hear Dream. But he's not here? His ears feel like they're ringing. It's constant. His chest is tight. It's getting worse. Tommy pushes the faucet handle all the way onto the cold side and throws his head under it. Suddenly the walls go back to normal, he can't hear Dream even the ringing in his ears is gone. His clothes are still a bit itchy, and he still feels hot and cold, but that's probably him being close to sensory overload already. He just breathes as the water rushes down his head, past his ears and into the sink. Then he turns off the sink once again and takes a deep breath. He waits to see if it will get bad again. When nothing happens, he pulls the hand towel off the hanger and scrubs his hair with it. He breathes out as he wipes his face off.
Then Tommy hangs the towel back up. He turns around and catches Henry in the corner of his eye. Tommy walks over and picks the small stuffed cow up off the floor. Its beady black eyes stare at him before its neck goes limp under his fingers. Tommy smiles at the plush, looking over the stains and small tears that have been carefully sewn back together when it was still newer and Tommy was much smaller. Of all the toys and things he had when he was little, this is the only one that hasn't been lost under his bed, sold in garage sales, taken by some kid in a park, or otherwise. He likes Henry. Tommy hugs the small stuffed cow to his chest and inhales as his hand falls on the door handle.
Exhale
He opens the door.
On the other side of the door, his brothers are sitting on the couch poking and prodding at each other and their dad is putting plastic wrap over the top of Tommy's untouched plate of food. Like he was going to ever eat it. When the bathroom door closes, his brothers look up from the couch and stop their fighting. Tommy walks over to the couch and plops onto the comfy cushion, as far away from his brothers as he possibly can be. Wilbur and Techno looked at each other.
"You alright Theseus?" Techno questioned from the other side of Wil. Tommy nodded as he looked down and began fiddling with Henry's ears.
"Yeah, just uh, had to use the bathroom." Lying. He's lying. He wonders if they can tell. He wonders the last time they were able to tell. He's never really liked lying. He's doing it anyway. Wilbur looks a little worried as he tangles his fingers together
"Were you? You were in there for a while." He asked. Was he? Tommy didn't even know how much time had passed while he was in the bathroom. He was a bit busy trying not to hyperventilate to realize how long he was in there.
"Uh- yeah, sorry didn't uhm- didn't feel great." He stuttered through the sentence. His brothers looked concerned as Tommy messed with the cuffs of his jacket sleeve. Phil clears his throat from behind them. Tommy turns around as Phil places the plastic-wrapped plate into the fridge.
"How do you feel now?" He asked, turning to smile at his son. Tommy could see the worry in his eyes, he shoved his hands in his pockets and hesitantly nodded.
"Uh- Yeah, yeah, fine." Tommy hurriedly said as Phil turned and began washing off a pan he had just used, "Sorry about the food by the way." Tommy tacked on quickly. Phil looked up almost immediately.
"No, no it's fine! It's in the fridge if you want to heat it back up and eat it." He insisted. Tommy nodded slowly. Holding Henry close to him, he begins walking towards the stairs.
"I'm going to go take a shower, I won't take long." He informs his family. Before they can say anything else, he's rushed upstairs and already closed the door to his room. He takes a breath before walking to his dresser. Tommy pulls out a simple red and white shirt and a pair of jeans before pushing the drawer closed. He opens another drawer and grabs a pair of underwear before shutting the drawer. Tommy glances down at the plush still in his hands before placing it on his bed. He sighs before carefully opening the door to his room. He checks either side of the door for anyone, but he can still faintly hear a conversation going on downstairs. He rushes into the bathroom and closes the door before locking it. He takes a breath before exhaling, walking over to the sink and tossing the clothes just next to it. He gets his clothes off and steps into the shower. He twists the handle of the faucet as the hot water begins to beat down on him. He lets his hair grow soaked as he just stands there for a short time. Tommy looks down at his wrists. The water causes the cuts to sting a little. He begins the rub lightly at the crusted blood, he winces but grows happy as the blood flakes off. Then he grabs the shampoo and scrubs it into his hair and continues his shower. He begins to float slightly.
He ends up coming to on the floor of the shower. He looks at his hands to see if his fingers are pruned like grapes. Luckily, based on his very lightly pruned fingers, he doesn't think he was in for very long, but he quickly shuts the water off and gets out. He grabs a towel and scrubs his hair with it before tying it around his waist. He glances in the mirror. His baggy eyes, gaunt cheeks, and long hair glare at him insulting him, telling him to give up now, don't wait. Even a scar on his collarbone from where he tried to self-harm. It was incredibly bloody and he had passed out, he never tried that again. He grabs another towel and covers the mirror with it. Tommy quickly shuffles his clothes on before putting his towel away and grabbing his phone. 10:41, about an hour. What does he do until then? He opens the door and walks downstairs. Wilbur is sitting in the middle of the L couch, looking at his phone, and Phil is sitting next to him looking at his laptop. Techno grabs a deck of cards from the game box on shelf and pushes the box back into the lower shelf cabinet. As Tommy walks down, Techno catches his eyes before looking away in discomfort.
"Hey Theseus, we're about to start a game of BS, want to join?" Techno asks as he pulls out the cards and grabs the two Joker cards that have been conveniently placed in the front of the box. Tommy shrugs.
"Sure," Tommy says as he walks over and plops himself in the corner of the couch. Techno sits on the floor in front of the coffee table and begins shuffling the cards. Wilbur puts his phone under his leg as Phil looks up at Techno shuffling.
"What are you guys playing?" Phil asks curiously. Wilbur looks over at his father as Techno pauses.
"It's called BS, aka, bullshit. Apparently, it's called things like Cheat and I Doubt it in some other places. But basically, Techno is going to deal us the whole deck, minus the jokers of course. Then, whoever is to the left of the dealer, which would be Tommy, would place down an Ace. Then I would place a 2, you 3, etc. But, the whole deal is, what if you don't have the card needed? Well, you have to lie. Like, let's say I had to place down a 7. But I don't have a 7, so I lie and place down another card, like a 5 or something. Then let's say you suck ass at lying, like Tommy-"
"HEY!"
"-if you don't believe him, you can say BS or bullshit. Then, if you are right, Tommy takes all the cards in the pile, if you are wrong, you take all the cards. Oh, and you don't have to place down one card. If you have two fives, you can place them both down, just to note though, there are only four of each card in the deck. And it goes, Ace, 2, 3-10, and then Jack, Queen and finally King and after that, it repeats. I think that's about it. Oh, and the game ends with the first person who has no more cards." Wilbur attempts to explain. Phil mostly understands.
"How about we play and if I don't understand something, you can explain?" Phil suggests as he closes his laptop and puts it on the end table next to him. Techno nods.
"That works." He finally begins dealing the cards. Once Tommy gets his cards, he begins looking at them and finally finds an ace and places it upside down on the middle of the coffee table.
The game circles a few times before Phil looks hesitant.
"One seven." He carefully places his card down, attempting to place the card down without the others seeing it. Tommy risks it.
"I call bullshit." Tommy swipes the card up and reveals a nine. Phil groans and gathers all the cards in the pile as Tommy cheers. On Tommy's nine, he has to lie and place down a three. No one catches him and he is internally proud of himself. The family continues for several rounds, Phil brought out some snacks, and Wilbur turned on Star Wars as background noise. Yes, they were playing BS while listening to Anakin and Obi-Wan's fight.
As Tommy is pulling out a card, Wilbur is staring intently at Tommy's hands, Tommy thinks he's cheating.
"Fuck off man! You're looking at my cards!" Tommy yips as he hides his cards. Wilbur stares at his hands. Wait, he- he isn't looking at Tommy's hands. More like his arms. His wrists- fuck-
(After this line is where the story changes in the bad ending.)
"Tommy-" Wilbur starts but is quickly interrupted by Tommy.
"I don't c-care about your excuse, you were trying to look at my cards!" Tommy says, hurriedly adjusting his sleeves and trying to hide the scars. But it was too late. Wilbur had already seen it. Phil had already seen it. Hell, maybe even Techno saw. Tommy is so screwed. Phil hesitantly extends a hand toward Tommy, concern evident in his voice.
"Tommy, can I see-" his voice wavers as Tommy rips his arms away and hugs them to his chest.
"N-No! No, you can't. I-" Tommy stammers, but cuts himself off as he drops his cards. His family sits there, unsure of what to do. It's all so sudden. Or was it? Maybe it had been building up for a while, just hidden from everyone's view. Has Tommy been dealing with this alone? Oh god, how long has this been happening? Tommy quickly pushes himself off the couch and rushes to his room, accidentally colliding with a table on the way, stumbling on the stairs, narrowly avoiding crashing into a wall. It isn't even time yet, he's still roughly twenty minutes off, but he doesn't care, he can't risk having to explain this to them. What will they think? Oh god, he knew this would be bad, he knew he would be fucked if he told them, why did he let Wilbur see the fucking scars?!
His family hurriedly follows him up the stairs, calling out his name with worry in their voices.
"Tommy!" Wilbur screams. Phil yells after him, Techno following closely. This is one of the few times Techno has ever been truly scared.
"Tommy, please!" Techno yells, desperate to reach him.
Tommy slams his bedroom door shut but regretfully forgets to lock it. He quickly grabs the noose hidden under his bed and hastily sets it up. Grabbing his desk chair, he rolls it under the rope and shakily climbs onto it. Just as he's about to touch the rope, his family bursts into the room. He's immediately pulled off the chair and into Techno's arms as Tommy screams and sobs jerkily against his brother, attempting to make Techno drop him.
"G-get off-! I don't- I can't do this! You're hurting me! I-!" Tommy screams before sobbing and finally giving up, slumping in Techno's arms as Techno gently lowers him to the floor while Wilbur and Phil rush over, pushing the chair away in their haste. The two of them wrap their arms around Tommy as he cries, comforting him with their warm embrace.
"I'm so sorry! I can't- I- I am so-!" Tommy sobs as he clings to Phil's shirt. He feels the warmth of Wilbur's head resting on his shoulder, his tears quickly soak through Tommy's shirt as Techno wipes away Tommy's tears. Tommy continues to apologize, but his family reassures him with kind words.
"Toms, this isn't your fault at all. We should have asked and tried harder. I'm so sorry you had to go through this alone. Do you want help? What can we do for you?" Phil interrupts, feeling lost and confused. Wilbur chimes in, "Tommy, we want to help you. How can we help you? We can give you some time off, get you therapy, or- or medication. Why do you want to do that? What's bothering you?" Wilbur is cut off as Tommy cries loudly, expressing his pain.
"Everything! Everything hurts all the time! I- I don't know how to fix it! It just seems easier to-" Tommy struggles in his family's arms, but they hold on tight. Techno quickly insists,
"No, Tommy! It wouldn't be easier. It would make everything much harder. We can get you help. This doesn't have to happen- please Tommy!" Tommy continues to cry and squirm before finally burying his face in Phil's neck.
"No! We can't waste money on something like that! It should be spent on f-food and- and bills! We don't have the kind of money-" Tommy argues. Phil gently shakes his head.
"Tommy, I got a new job that pays well. We can afford it now. It'll be okay, Toms. We'll get you help. Would you like that?" He asks as Tommy gives up and vigorously nods, still sobbing.
"And we can get you out of school for a week or two if that will help. I'll stay home with you, and we can have Tubbo and Ranboo come over. Wilbur can try to get off work early, and Dad may not be able to because he's so new, but-" Techno is interrupted by Phil.
"I'll get here as fast as possible. We can spend time together as a family. I'll get you into therapy. Maybe we should try family therapy to figure out all our problems. We can..." Phil breaks off and sobs lightly. Tommy continues nodding. Oh, this poor kid seriously needs a break. They are going to make sure he gets it, no matter what.
Techno suggests, "I can get a part-time job. I've been thinking of working at the library. It should be easy enough, and the staff knows me because of how often I go in there already so I won't even need to explain my Audhd. It'll just be after school, maybe not very often." Tommy shakes his head.
"No, you shouldn't have to get a job so I can-" He's interrupted by Techno.
"No, Tommy. We always need more money. Besides, it's something I'm interested in, and maybe being social will help me break out of my shell. But right now, all that matters is you. You matter. You matter most." Tommy looks confused and sniffs as his sobs subside.
"Really? But we can't just focus on me. If I'm getting therapy, then everyone should. We all need it, and we all know it." He demands. Phil nods.
"You're right, we should all get therapy, especially after this. But first, let's take care of your immediate needs, Toms. Let's get you something to eat, drink, and bandage those cuts. Then we can celebrate your birthday the right way, alright?" Phil suggests. Tommy sniffs and smiles through his tears, nodding.
"Thank you."
"Anything for you, Toms," Techno says gently.
"As long as you're happy," Wilbur adds with a sad smile.
"We'll get you back on track, Toms. I promise," Phil assures him.
With his worries eased by the love and support of his family,
Tommy finally smiles.
Five Months Later...
Tommy isn't particularly fond of dissociating. His therapist, Puffy, explained that it's a way for his mind to protect him, but he can't help but wish it didn't happen at the worst possible moments. Like today, on Wilbur's 19th birthday. He really wanted the attention to be on Wilbur instead of everyone worrying about him. Plus, he can't understand what his fucked up head is trying to protect him from. He knows his family and friends wouldn't harm him, so it's all just a tad frustrating.
BUT, unfortunately...
Tommy finds himself curled up on the couch, dissociated. Wilbur does his best to keep him grounded by gently pinching the top of his hand, while Techno grabs an ice pack, experimenting with one of the methods suggested by Puffy. Meanwhile, Niki, Fundy, Quackity, and Eret are having fun playing Mario Party with Ranboo and Tubbo watching. Techno returns with the ice pack, and Wilbur and Phil are focused on making sure Tommy is okay. It's one of those moments when he's more present, which is a bit tough for him, but at least it's easier for them to bring him out of it. Just imagine sitting there, unable to do anything but breathe, while everyone around you is worried, and your head starts itching. But you can't move a muscle to scratch it. Tommy thinks he'd rather be floaty than deal with this. He huffs, his fingers twitching slightly, as Techno returns with the ice pack. Wilbur continues to pinch his hand, and Phil starts rubbing slow circles on his back. Techno carefully places the ice pack in Tommy's hands and takes a seat on the floor in front of him. After about ten minutes, Tommy finally comes back.
"Hey Toms, how are you doing?" Wilbur asks with a warm smile as Tommy returns. Tommy blinks slowly. Phil smiles sympathetically.
"Not feeling too great, huh? Take all the time you need, we're here." Phil assures as Tommy hums softly.
Tommy adjusts the melting ice pack in his hands and passes it to Techno. Techno takes it and places it on the coffee table. Tommy's eyes look clearer and he seems more focused.
"How are you feeling now?" Techno asks gently, Tommy shrugs.
"A little better." He mumbles as he sits up on the couch. Phil continues to ground him by rubbing his back.
"Do you want me to ask the questions?" He asks cautiously. Tommy shakes his head.
"No, I'm okay, and please- let's not tiptoe around me. I hate it..." He pleads. Phil nods.
"Alright. I'm sorry if it made you uncomfortable Toms, I'm glad you opened up about it." He says sincerely. Tommy lets out a gentle groan.
"Now it sounds like you're going easy on me, old man." He complains. Wilbur shakes his head.
"He's not going easy on you, Tommy. The fact that you felt comfortable enough to share this with us is something to be proud of. I know it may seem small, but it's a huge step from a few months ago. We're showing compassion because we're genuinely happy for you, and you deserve that happiness." Wilbur explains gently. Tears well up in Tommy's eyes before he quickly rubs at them.
"Man, fuck you guys. I really want to stop crying..." Tommy laughs as he wipes away his tears. His family shares in his laughter. Tommy can still hear the sounds of laughter and Mario Party music in the background, making their serious moment feel a bit lighter. Techno pats Tommy's knee softly.
"Even shedding tears is a significant step, Theseus. It's a step for you, and it's a step for me too. You know, before we started therapy, I didn't really like- emotions," Techno admits with a shiver, "But look at me now, tearing up at the sight of you crying. It's kind of bullshit, I'm not supposed to be emotional." Techno says with a smile and a sniffle. Tommy chuckles wearily. Quackity overhears their conversation and playfully interjects,
"Oh no, how terrible! THE Technoblade actually has f-f-f-f-f-feeeeeeelings!" Quackity jokes and the group shares a light laugh.
Once Tommy is back to feeling 100%, Wilbur's birthday celebration resumes as normal, with presents, cake, food, and the company of friends and family. After the guests have left and just before therapy, the family cozies up together to watch a movie. And even though he'll deny it till the end of time, Tommy snuggles up to Wilbur and eventually falls asleep.
Later that day...
Tommy doesn't know how to feel about therapy. He likes Puffy, she is ridiculously nice, and the therapy seems to have helped so far, but at the same time, talking about his feelings is so fucking hard. Tommy is silent as he plays with a fidget toy he got out of Puffy's basket. Puffy clears her throat lightly.
"So, how are you doing today Tommy?" She asks as Tommy twists the tangle in his hands. He shrugs.
"'m fine." He says, yep, straight to the lying. Puffy continues her calm, kind expression.
"How was Wilbur's birthday?" She asks. Tommy shrugs, looking down at his lap. Puffy nods absentmindedly.
"Phil told me about the dissociation. Can we talk about that?" She asks as she clicks her pen and writes something down in her binder. The same damn binder that in large, glaring font says, TOMMY THOMAS SIMONS CRAFT. Always with the writing in that fucking binder.
"What the hell do you write in there?" Tommy demands. Puffy ignores the usual swearing and finishes writing.
"Well right now, I'm making a note that you are avoiding questions and seem tired today. Can we talk about the dissociation?" She asks patiently. Tommy loses interest and shrugs once more. Puffy nods again and takes a quick second to write down a very short word. She clicks her pen and looks up at him as she crosses her legs.
"When can we talk about it?" She asks. Tommy snorts lightly.
"Never." He mumbles. She smiles, not growing even slightly tired of Tommy's antics. Why wasn't she getting tired of him? Annoyed?
"Well Tommy, as much as I'm sure you don't want to talk about it, we'll have to talk about it sometime. Does our next session work? On Thursday?" She asks. Tommy shrugs and pulls his legs up onto his chair, crossing them.
"I guess." He says, still tugging on the tangle. Puffy flips a few pages and writes something down, probably to talk about- that- next session. She places her pen in the binder and crosses her legs.
"So I know you were told Wilbur is getting ready to move out, how do you feel about that?" She asks, changing the subject. Tommy shrugs again and glances up at her to see her reaction. She seems unfazed, matter of fact, it seems like she doesn't mind at all that he keeps shrugging. He sighs lightly.
"It sucks." He mutters. Puffy moves in her seat in an attempt to get comfortable.
"Why is that?" She presses. Tommy huffs lightly.
"Cause then it's just gonna be me an' Techno. And then in about a year or two, Techno's going to college and- and I'll be-" He trails off and gazes into his lap. Puffy is ever so patient as she writes something down.
"Are you afraid you'll be alone?" She asks gently, looking back up at him. Tommy hesitantly nods.
"I fucking hate being the youngest. And I love Dad to death, but Wil and Tech are my brothers. There is a different kind of friendship between brothers versus a parent and their kid. I mean he does things for me all the time, but Phil wouldn't take me out at midnight to get McDonalds and blast music in his car at the park. That's a Wilbur thing. And Phil wouldn't roughhouse with me and be all awkward when I inevitably get hurt. That's a Techno thing." Tommy explains. Puffy nods in understanding.
"From what I understand, Wilbur will still be in town, just not in your house, right?" She asks. Tommy nods and places the tangle back in the basket before grabbing a fidget cube and messing with it. Puffy hums and nods.
"Well if he's not moving very far, you can still go out and do those things together can't you?" She suggests. Tommy shrugs.
"It's not really the same. I just don't want to get older. I don't want to be alone." Tommy admits quietly. Puffy nods.
"You won't be alone. Not necessarily. You will have Techno, Phil, Tubbo, Ranboo, and of course you can always text, call, or visit Wilbur." She reminds. Tommy huffs.
"It's not the same. Everything will change." He mutters under his breath. Puffy raises a brow before smoothing it out.
"Don't look at change as a bad thing, sure it might feel odd for a while- actually it will feel odd for a while, but sometimes change is needed. Imagine you rearrange your room, you like it but you hate it at the same time because it's different. Everything is out of place, things aren't where they usually are. After a while, you learn and remember where you placed things and eventually, you get used to it. You know where everything is now, you don't keep losing things. I know change can be a difficult thing to cope with for someone with Autism, we can talk more in detail about change in another session. Is there anything else you want to talk about?" Puffy finishes. Tommy thinks. Maybe he should say something about his meds making him feel sick. Fuck it.
"I think- I think my meds are- well I think they're making me feel sick. I've been scared to say anything to my family about it." Tommy admits quietly. Puffy nods.
"Okay, I can't really help with that, but we can figure out the best way to bring this up to your family. How does that sound?" She suggests. Tommy nods slowly.
"That sounds good. That sounds perfect. Thank you Puffy."
"Of course Tommy, anything."
One Night a Month Later
He doesn't know what happened. He was fine. He was perfectly fine. Then he blacked out and woke up on the floor of the bathroom with blood on his wrists. Why does this keep happening? He thought it was better. He was doing fine! Why is he such a fuck up?! He can't do one thing right!
He can't do anything right! Why, why, why, WHY CAN'T HE-
"Tommy?"
Fuck. That's Wilbur. He has to know. Tommy can't hide- if he hides, none of this will get better-
"Tommy? Are you okay?"
Fuck, he sounds worried. What do I do- what do I do? Tell him.
"I'm sorry," Tommy says quietly.
"What did you say? Toms?" Wilbur asks through the door. Tommy sniffles.
"I'm sorry- I'm sorry Wil-" He says a little louder as he brings a hand up to his eyes to wipe away- tears? When did he start crying-
"Tommy, are you alright? Please Tommy, please open the door." Wilbur calls through the door again.
"W-when I open the door- you have to- you have to promise you won't be mad, o-okay?" Tommy asks, still a little quiet. Wilbur must have heard it though, because he made a broken noise beyond the door.
"I promise, okay? Just- I need to know if you're alright, so please, open the door." He insists quietly. Tommy is shaky as he leans to the side and unlocks the door, getting some blood on the handle in the process. Once Wilbur hears the click, he opens the door carefully. A floof of brown, curly hair pokes out past the door as Tommy sniffles and struggles to take in a breath. Wilbur's eyes widen briefly before he pushes into the bathroom and closes the door behind him. He looks hesitant but gets on his knees in front of his brother.
"Shit- okay-" Wilbur curses as he looks under the sink and finds an old, tattered towel, he pulls it out and holds his hand out. Tommy places his arm in Wilbur's hands. Wilbur immediately begins pressing the towel to Tommy's wrist. The blonde hisses and lets out a sob. Wilbur shushes him gently.
"Hey, you're alright, you're okay- breathe with me, Toms." Wilbur says. Tommy nods and takes in a very shaky breath. Wilbur nods and smiles, still putting pressure on Tommy's wrist.
"That's good, that's great Toms, can we do that again?" Wilbur asks, demonstrating by taking in a breath. Tommy attempts to take another breath but chokes slightly and shakes his head aggressively. Wilbur uses one hand to grab Tommy's hand, he places it on his own chest and takes a deep breath. Tommy exhales and takes in another shaky breath.
Wilbur smiles and pulls away from one wrist and begins to put pressure on the other one, helping guide Tommy through breathing immediately. They continue this cycle before Wilbur pulls away and tosses the bloody towel in the bathtub before looking in the cabinets to find the fully stocked first aid kit. Wilbur internally breathes a sigh of relief as he finds and pulls it out before placing it on the floor. He grabs a face towel from the cabinet and soaks it in warm water before turning off the sink faucet. He takes Tommy's arm again and begins dabbing at the jagged cuts, gently cleaning the wounds. Tommy hisses occasionally as Wilbur cleans. Not long later, Wilbur takes the gauze and begins carefully wrapping Tommy's wrist. Tommy sniffles and lets out a small sob.
"I didn't mean to- I really didn't- I- I can't even remember- it's like I blacked out- 'm sorry Wil!" Tommy cries out as he devolves into sobs. Wilbur shushes him.
"You're alright Toms, you don't have to apologize, okay? You said it's like you blacked out? W-what do you mean?" Wilbur asks, still wrapping Tommy's wrist gently. Tommy shakes his head vehemently and lets out a sob.
"I- I can't remember. I was- one moment, I was in my room playing Minecraft, and the next moment, I was here- it was like I teleported or something- Wil- I'm so fucking scared- what if this never stops- I'm never gonna get better am I?!" Tommy wails. Wilbur shakes his head and stops wrapping, he uses one hand to cup Tommy's cheek gently.
"Hey, you're gonna be fine, alright? This will end eventually, okay? I promise, and if I'm wrong, you can take my guitar and- and beat it against the concrete outside." Wilbur insists. Tommy snorts through a sob.
"You would never allow that! Even if you are lying, you wouldn't!" Tommy laughs and wipes at his tears with his unoccupied hand. Wilbur nods and smiles as he continues wrapping.
"Well- you don't know that do you? I would! You could take it and throw it at a wall if I'm wrong!" Wilbur says, finishing the wrapping and reaching for the blonde's other wrist. Tommy places his hand in his brother's absentmindedly as he giggles and sniffs, scrubbing at his eyes again.
"I don't believe you! If you're wrong, you have to take me to that curry restaurant you hate!" Tommy exclaims as he begins to smile. Wilbur looks offended.
"The one with the sticky tables, bad food and terrible service? No way! I am never going back there! But I just have to be right then, don't I?" Wilbur says, finishing the wrapping and playfully swatting Tommy's hand away when he tries to pick at the gauze.
"I guess so," Tommy says with a grin, but then he looks down and starts picking at the gauze again. Wilbur reaches over and gently swats Tommy's hand away once more. Tommy shakes his hand slightly, noticing blood under his fingernails. He starts picking at them, and Wilbur huffs before taking his hands and guiding him to the sink. He pushes the handle to the left and hot water begins to spew out quickly. Wilbur adjusts the temperature a little bit and begins carefully washing Tommy's hands for him.
"I- I can do it myself Wil." Tommy says quietly. Wilbur looks hesitant to let go but draws away and allows Tommy wash his hands himself. Wilbur fidgets and looks at the wrappings on Tommy's wrists. Tommy turns the water off and turns around to look at Wilbur. He barrels into his brother with a hug. Wilbur is stunned for a moment before carefully wrapping his arms around Tommy's small torso. Tommy smiles as a tear rolls down his face and lands on Wilbur's shoulder.
"Thank you Wilby." He says quietly.
Wilbur closes his eyes and smiles. "Anything for you, Toms."
4 Years later
The popcorn was spilled.
All over Wilbur and Techno.
They decided to watch the new Five Nights at Freddies movie on a streaming service for Tommy's sixteenth birthday. The family plus Tubbo, Ranboo, Aimsey, Guqqie, Bill, and Freddie had piled onto the couch or sat on the floor that was covered in pillows and blankets. They were giggling and making jokes during the whole movie, Tubbo at one point yelled that the movie wasn't even scary and proceeded to scream when Balloon Boy jumpscared him. Unfortunately, Tommy accidentally dumped all the popcorn on Wilbur and Techno, but thankfully, it didn't stress Tommy out like it would have in the past. Tommy had come a long way and things were less overwhelming for him now. He still had a few years left of high school before he graduated, but he was making progress. The family had been going to therapy regularly, and though Tommy used to go twice a week, he now only needed one session. It was still a new routine, but it was going well, and Tommy hadn't experienced any dissociation in a whole month - a personal record for him.
He's made a lot more friends than he has ever had before, he still has bad days, but they grow fewer and fewer with each passing day. Phil's (not so new) job is pulling in enough money that they haven't lived paycheck to paycheck in- well- years. It's like living in a dream. Wilbur moved out and has been dating a girl for about three years, her name is Sally and Wilbur had mentioned to Tommy that he's been thinking about proposing. Tommy is fully supportive in whatever his brother wants to do, Sally is probably the nicest girl Tommy has ever met. Not nicer than Niki of course, no one is nicer than Niki. Of course Wilbur just got into college to teach history, he had to take out a loan and pull a few strings to get in, but it finally happened! He's taking the online classes from his apartment in town, so he's not very far away. Techno graduated with a full ride scholarship to some school fairly nearby, so he comes over every other weekend. And Tommy rarely blacks out and wakes up with his own blood on him anymore. He hasn't willingly hurt himself in months.
Tommy's life had drastically improved. It isn't the same as when he was a child, it could still be so much better, and it was. It wasn't perfect, but it was a marked improvement from where he had been. What he once thought would be the end turned out to be a bittersweet beginning - a new chapter filled with a better life, happiness, and the discovery of himself as Tommy. A new Tommy.
And he would never go back to the old Tommy.
