Chapter Text
Tommy's POV
Tommy didn't know why he still tried to keep going.
It was only getting worse. Everything. He was just destroying his already terrible relationships.
Phil was rarely ever even home, always pouring his time into work, rotting his days away in the same software programmer's office. Tommy would pack his dad a lunch the night before and leave it in the fridge. Phil never knew who did it but had thanked and even praised Wilbur for the work that Tommy spent his time on. Wilbur said nothing about how he knew that he hadn't made his father anything, just welcomed him like he was expecting it. At 26 years old, Phil had three sons and a wife who had died in childbirth and left him alone. At 37 years old, he was more tired than he ever had been, even more so than when his youngest and final son was born, the morning his wife died.
And Wilbur was never home either, he was the eldest of the three boys. He was either out with friends, at theater practice, school, or at work. Granted, Wilbur seemed to somehow earn more money in the shabby cafe he worked at than their father did at a regular, full time job. Wilbur was bringing in the most money, therefore, he entirely paid for the groceries, and paid half of the bills while Phil paid the other half. He had raised Tommy and partly Techno. And at twelve years old, Wilbur had been forced into adulthood. At seventeen he could provide for their family better than their own father.
Techno was a completely different story. Techno spent his time beating the crap out of his friends. In a ring, that is. Techno liked wrestling and even fencing. Techno was only fifteen and there was nowhere in L'Manberg that allowed anyone under the age of sixteen to hold a job. He was really good at his afterschool activities though. And sure, Tommy could only make it to his pink haired brother's matches when they were held at the elementary school, which usually started 30 minutes to an hour after the bell rang. Tommy could always see the way his brother's eyes lit up when he saw his baby brother standing just next to the doorway, backpack slung over his shoulder, blonde hair ruffled and messed up all to hell. Tommy liked Techno, loved him. Despite how he was never at home, he loved him. At ten years old, Techno realized his dad cared more about his job than his son, Techno was the saddest and loneliest he had ever been. At fifteen, he was the quietest he had ever been.
And Tommy... Well. Too much and not enough stuff was happening at the same time. His life felt bland, boring. Lifeless. Meaningless. His family and friends were leaving him. The moment Phil had gotten a new job and Techno started his own hobbies and Wilbur, his theater and friends, Tommy didn't go anywhere special. Sure he had met Tubbo and Ranboo and they added fuel to Tommy's dying fire, his light. They made everything better. When Tommy hated himself, hated his life, his friends were there to tell him it was okay and that his mind was, and I quote, 'a little bitch who doesn't deserve to have any part in Tommy's life'. But Tommy couldn't help the utter fear that clouded his judgment of his friends hating, despising him as much as his blood family. He knew it wasn't true and when he admitted to his friends of his fear, they were adamant that they didn't hate him, that he wasn't the annoying, selfish brat that everyone had made him out to be. Tommy didn't believe them, but it was nice to hear.
And then there was Dream. Fucking Dream. The upperclassman who fucked Tommy's life over. Tommy was nine when Dream had begun messing with him. Bullying him. Torturing him. He would beat the blonde boy to a bloody pulp and say that it would make Tommy stronger. Yeah, of course Tommy knew it was bad. But Dream had threatened Tommy that if he didn't come to practice, he would hurt his friends instead. Tommy couldn't let that happen. About a year or so into the practices, Techno found out. Techno's fencing practice was canceled because the ceiling had a bunch of leaks that were getting fixed. It didn't make much sense as to why they didn't do it over the weekend but whatever. Techno decided to go pick up Tommy from school so they could walk home together. He found his little brother getting the shit beat out of him by some blonde kid who looked to be about Techno's age, twelve or thirteen. And Techno was furious. He stormed up to the kid and kicked him in the stomach. The kid stumbled backwards and fell on his ass.
All Techno saw was red and before he knew it, he was on top of the blonde then two people were pulling him off of the kid, he assumed they were teachers but when he stood up, he brushed them off and sprinted to Tommy's side. The boy had blood rushing down his face, his nose had looked broken, he sported bruises all over his face and the worst part was that he wasn't even conscious. They took Tommy and Dream to the hospital and took Techno to the police department for questioning. 'Why were you there, what is your relation with either of the boys, who hurt who, etc. Then they went to court. That was a few years ago now. It was four months ago that Tommy had made the plan. He had snuck out of his room and went downstairs. And there it was, the treasure. Wilbur's wallet. He knew Wilbur always kept a twenty dollar bill in his wallet, so he opened it and grabbed the money before folding the wallet back up and placing it in the same spot, then he went out to the store. He bought rope. He circled a specific date on the calendar. April 9th. His birthday.
Theseus had come into this world April 9th. It only made sense to take him out of it on the same day only twelve years later.
At six years old, Tommy had given up on asking what was wrong in the family. At eleven, almost twelve years old, Tommy felt done with everything. With life.
The week before his twelfth birthday wasn't spent being far too excited for presents and cake and all of his friends and family coming to celebrate his life. He spent it learning how to tie a noose. That same night, he went to sleep with a noose under his bed, new dancing colors of dark and light red painting his wrists, and tear tracks on his cheeks as he fell into a restless sleep. At twelve, Tommy Kraken-Innit Craft would be hung from his ceiling as decoration. Unbreathing and unmoving.
Dead.
Of course, no one knew about his arrangement. He planned to keep it under wraps. He figured they would try to get him to change his mind. Tommy told himself that he would do it at 11:19 AM, the exact time he was born. One might say he wanted to align everything perfectly. And yet, to onlookers, it was another ordinary Friday
The teacher yelled at him for nearly falling asleep in class. I'll be gone by tomorrow night.
He failed his algebra test. I'll be gone by tomorrow night.
He spent lunch time throwing up his miniscule breakfast. I'll be gone by tomorrow night.
Tubbo and Ranboo found him in the bathroom and comforted him. I-ll b- g-ne b- tom-r-ow nig-t.
Sapnap took his phone and- Tubbo snatched the phone from his hands and shoved it back in Tommy's hands before leading him away from the bully.-I-l- b- g-ne b- tom-r--w.
His best friends held his hands and grounded him as he dissociated. I'll be gone.
I'll be gone.
I'll be gone.
I'll be gone.
I'll be gone.
I'll be gone.
They'll be sad.
I'LL BE GONE.
Tommy knew his friends and family had their own issues. Ranboo had horrible memory problems and couldn't remember what his parents looked like by the time he had been adopted by Tubbo's parents. Tubbo couldn't read well, sometimes couldn't read at all when his dyslexia was kicking his ass. Techno and his 'voices' as he calls them, the things that supposedly told him to hurt his family and caused him to never think straight. Wilbur's anxiety and depression was only getting worse as time went on, his stresses were entirely centered around making sure his younger brothers got at least a little bit of food every night. Phil... He could never get sleep at night. His boss was an asshole and the only reason that Wilbur was able to make more than his father.
But with Phil's preferences, his mental and physical problems, his children, and simply the way he acted made it near impossible for him to get a good paying job. And Tommy knew that he was trying. He just... Wasn't ever home. And when he was, he was passed the fuck out on the couch. It was around an hour before school was out that his friends could tell something was off with their blonde haired friend when he had snapped out of the dissociation.
"Hey Tommy?" Ranboo had asked. The three friends were still sat on the bathroom floor, to which Tubbo and Ranboo thanked every god that no one had come in when Tommy was out of it. Tommy hummed, still not entirely there yet. Tubbo continued to gently pinch the back of his friend's hand.
"Is- is something going on? You don't- you obviously don't have to tell us, but we want to make sure you're okay. You're worrying us." The taller friend asked worriedly. Tommy's eyes grew dark. He still leaned against his short, brunette friend who seemed to be growing impatient.
"Fucking- please Tommy. We care about you, we don't want you hurting like this. It hurts us." Tubbo croaked. His eyes were watering. Tommy sniffled and took a breath before letting out a small sob. His friends only looked more concerned. Tommy couldn't- didn't want to answer. Even when his occasional sniffles erupted into painful sobs, he felt like screaming. Everything hurt.
The lower half of his body hurt like hell from sitting on the cold, hard fucking floor for so long. His head was spinning and throbbed, the way his friends looked at him felt like a stab in the gut. His sobs only got more aggressive as time went on.
His friends looked a bit frantic. But when Tommy felt warm, welcoming arms encircle him, he paused and his sobbing with it. Tubbo's arms trapped him against the smaller's chest as Tommy's sobs increased. He continued to bawl even when another pair of arms wrapped around him protectively. He knew his friends were scared out of their minds but he needed to let it out for a moment, and they were perfectly happy with letting the blonde do so. He wailed into his friends arms as they held him tight. They knew something was wrong with their usually energetic friend.
They can't do anything to stop me...
Tommy thought about the rope under his bed, the razor blade taped to the back of the cabinet in the bathroom. The other razor pushed to the back of his dresser drawer and the one in his nightstand. The nights he spent crying himself to sleep. The same nights he wished he would just keel over and die already. Because his life wasn't worth living. If no one wanted him there, what was the point in trying to stay? He felt like shoving his friends away from him. But what if he didn't go through with the plan? What if he pussied out? His friends would hate him for pushing them away...
Right?
He just felt so tired. It was a struggle to do anything at this point. He had to force himself to get out of bed every day. It wasn't even just most days anymore. It was just every fucking day. It felt like the world was weighing down on him, breaking his bones, putting so much pressure on him that it felt like his eyes would pop out of his head. It felt like his head was going to explode. He had stopped crying already and he'd gone back to that numb, terrifying state. Not the dissociation, just how he felt regularly. His friends sat and pinched the back of his hands gently as he spaced out. They only continued to do it to ground him in case he slipped into dissociation again. He could already feel himself slipping back into it as he heard Tubbo mumble something to Ranboo. The taller friend nodded his head and rushed out of the bathroom with his stuff and Tommy and Tubbo's things.
Soon enough Ranboo was gone and Tommy could hear Tubbo talking. He couldn't understand what in the fuck his friend was saying to him. Not yet anyways.
"...ommy. Tommy, hey come on, let's get you to the office yeah?" The brunette suggested. Tommy groaned and shook his head as his friend gently took hold of his arm and carefully pulled him up. Tommy made a futile attempt to push his friend away, but Tubbo just readjusted his gentle but firm grip on his friend's arm and pulled him out of the bathroom.
"Where are we going?" Tommy mumbled in question. Tommy could feel the eye roll from Tubbo.
"The office, I told you that Toms." Tubbo said. He looked hurt by how Tommy had already forgotten. But Tommy was barely even there yet, and Tubbo knew he couldn't blame it on him. Within a minute or two, the office was in sight. And Ranboo was stood in front of the main desk. Behind the desk, the receptionist was on the phone with someone. Ranboo looked very invested in what she was doing. Soon they were opening the door and Tommy already felt like he was slipping again. Before he knew it, he was sat in the chair and Tubbo was gently pinching the palm of his hand. Ranboo was stood just off to the side looking concerned. Him and Tubbo were talking, but it just sounded like static to Tommy. Then he faintly heard the school's main door opening and closing before the office door opened and closed. There were a new pair of shoes in front of him.
Wait, he recognizes those shoes. They are one of the several pairs of shoes that are sat next to the door at home. But that doesn't make sense, Phil is at work, Techno is at school, and Wilbur- doesn't have school today or work, that's right. He could hear people talking, just faintly. An older woman, the receptionist. A young, American kid, Ranboo. A young, British kid, Tubbo. A young man with a thick, almost posh sounding, British accent, Wil. Wilbur was here. Tommy hummed, cutting off the receptionist as she tried to say something. It felt like seconds after that Wilbur was crouched in front of Tommy with a small, warm smile. It felt like everything else faded out when Wilbur spoke.
"Hey Toms, I don't know if you can hear me, but I'm pulling you out of school for the day okay? We'll go home and you can rest for a bit." Wilbur informed. Tommy absentmindedly gave a small nod. Wilbur saw it though. As everything unfocused again, Wilbur went up to the desk and began talking to the receptionist. Within moments, Tommy felt two people carefully hug him, and when he came back to, Tubbo and Ranboo were gone. Wilbur was in front of him, sliding his hands into Tommy's own to help him up. Tommy stood on shaky legs and leaned on his brother instinctually. Soon enough, Wilbur was helping Tommy into the passenger's seat of his car. Wilbur handed him the tangle he kept in his glovebox. Tommy heard one of the back doors open and close and then a blanket was draped over him. He hummed in slight recognition. Wilbur would take it.
Tommy found himself drifting off as soon as Wilbur started the car. And soon enough, the blonde was asleep.
Wilbur's POV
To say Wilbur was concerned to get a call from Tommy's school the day before the youngers birthday was a bit of an understatement. It was about a year or two ago when Tommy needed to enroll for the new school year that Wilbur would put down his number for an emergency number instead of Phil. And it wasn't because Phil didn't care, it was that his boss wouldn't even dream of letting him off for a moment to let the man pick up his son from the school. When the school called Wilbur saying that Ranboo had come to the office and told them that Tommy had dissociated in the bathroom, Wilbur was worried. He had been sat on the couch, working on some homework from school. He hadn't had work because his boss had given him the day off and because of home stuff, Wilbur didn't have school on Fridays and even got out of school early on Mondays and Wednesdays.
He would be able to work, shop, do his homework and even his half of the bills. The school told him that Tommy had just gotten into the office with Tubbo's help. He was apparently still not entirely there, but a bit better. When Wilbur put his shoes on and grabbed his keys, he hung up his phone after saying he'd be there in about ten to fifteen minutes or so. Wilbur got in his car and started it before pulling out of the driveway. What Wilbur would give to punch Dream in the mouth as hard as he could for doing this shit to his baby brother. Wilbur thought as he pulled into the school's parking lot. He hated that man. He wasn't even a man though. He was only twelve when he did that shit to Tommy. He was the same age as Techno. He should be somewhere around the age of fifteen now. While Tommy was eleven and he'd be twelve tomorrow.
After Techno beat the shit out of the older blonde, Tommy and Dream had been sent to the hospital. Both boys were being watched under the careful eye of the police. Techno did his best to not kill the boy. Dream wouldn't stop fighting him. And every time Techno had knocked him to the ground, he would attempt to rush to his little brother but Dream would pull him back. Eventually, he got a good grasp on how Dream fought and began pummeling the boy into the ground. After the two had been pulled apart by two teachers and three students, Techno sprinted to his baby brother who was entirely unconscious. Techno felt like sobbing as silent tears fell down his face. The teachers could see it in his eyes, it was an act of self-defense. And defending his little brother.
The court case had gone well for the Crafts. They had found out that Dream had been doing this for a year or so. Techno was let off with a bit of a slap on the wrist because the ordeal of Techno attacking him was in defense of himself and his brother. Dream had been sent to a mental institution several hours away from L'Manberg even traveling by car. Somehow, police didn't know that Dream's parents had abandoned him and his little sister. When Dream was told he'd be leaving L'Manberg, he raged. Yelling that they couldn't do that, to which the judge had told him it was for his own good. But being sent away in general wasn't the reason he was upset, it was because his sister would be alone. Everyone was surprised when he said their parents were out of the picture. So when Dream was sent away, the court had no choice but to put the young girl into foster care. To which Dream was obviously pissed about, he knew what the foster system was like, it was the reason he had decided to do things on his own.
But she was put in an orphanage despite Dream's protests and cries. So Techno got a slap on the wrist, Dream was sent to a mental institute and had his sister taken from him, while Tommy was let go without anything. Which obviously, yes he was a victim in this, but Wilbur and Phil had expected him to have court ordered therapy. Something of which they couldn't give him themselves, they didn't have the kind of money for it. So Tommy was left with the memories of what the boy did to him and had to work through it on his own. He was adamant in not telling his family about anything that happened. Which was frustrating, obviously, they wanted to help him. But he wanted to do it by himself, which honestly hurt the family a ton. The denial of help led Tommy to having these episodes. They had researched them and found that it was called dissociation and it developed through childhood trauma, a coping method. Yep, that could probably be the reason this was happening.
Wilbur opened the door to the school and saw Tommy sitting in the office immediately. Tubbo was sitting next to him, gently pinching the palm of his hand as he sat silently. Wilbur walked in and saw Ranboo stood at the front desk. He turned to the right a little and saw Tubbo and Tommy. He turned back to the receptionist.
"Yeah, I'm pulling him out for the day, got something I need to sign or anything?" Wilbur asked the woman at the desk. She nodded, reached to another desk and grabbed a clipboard before placing it in front of the brunette.
"Just the sign out sheet. Other than that, you should just need to grab anything from his locker." She said. Wilbur nodded before turning around and crouching in front of his brother to look at him. He smiled at the delirious boy.
"Hey Toms, I don't know if you can hear me, but I'm pulling you out of school for the day okay? We'll go home and you can rest for a bit." He said. He saw Tommy give the slightest little nod before he stood back up and got to signing the paper. Ranboo cleared his throat.
"Hey Tubbo, how about we go get Tommy's stuff from his locker?" Ranboo suggested. Tubbo looked hesitant about leaving his friend who looked like he had slipped again. But the brunette sighed and nodded, standing up and walking out of the office with Ranboo who held the door for him.
"We'll be right back." He informed. Wilbur nodded absentmindedly as he finished signing the papers. He sat the pen down on the clipboard before the woman took them both. He turned back around and sat next to his brother. He took a hold of his hand and just held it.
"Hey Toms, if you can hear me, just know that I'll try my hardest to keep you from floating okay?" Wilbur said. Tommy squeezed a little, but other than that, he said nothing. In the time that they waited, Wilbur shot a quick text to their father and their other brother telling them that Tommy was being taken home.
It didn't take long for Ranboo and Tubbo to get back with Tommy's stuff, Wilbur took it before the two boys hugged Tommy who was too out of it to understand what was happening. Soon enough they said their goodbyes and thanks to Wilbur and left. Wilbur had a bit of a hard time getting Tommy into a comfortable position in his seat in the car. He also opened his glove box and grabbed a tangle before placing it in Tommy's hands then opening the back door and grabbing the blanket off of the seat. He closed the door again and then covered his little brother up with it. Wilbur always kept two blankets, two pillows, a whole fuck ton of fidgets and other things in his car. He kept multiple blankets and pillows in his car for a reason. What if someone wanted to sleep in the car? Bam, blanket and pillow. Multiple people wanted to sleep? Bam. But he also kept multiple for cases like these.
Both Tommy and Techno had autism. Well Tommy had autism and ADHD. So one of the blankets was a soft one with very specific materials while the other was a soft, weighted blanket. Tommy didn't like the weighted blankets. He said they made it hard for him to breathe and also made him feel claustrophobic. While Techno adored the weighted blanket. Tommy couldn't stand certain materials and thought some felt scratchy, like microfiber. The fidget toys are always there for anyone who wants to use them. He keeps a small bin in the back on the floor that is just big enough to push under the seat that he uses for trash. His anxiety plans for every possible outcome of everything. By the time they had been driving for ten minutes, there was one thing his anxiety hadn't planned on. Tears. He hadn't planned on crying. He was crying.
Why is he crying? He had no reason to cry. He sniffled and swiped the back of his hand under his eye so he could still see. He let his arm fall on the console. He was surprised to feel a hand grab his own. He glanced over to Tommy who had his hand on Wilbur's. When had he woken up? He was already fidgeting with the tangle. Tears. He was crying too. Wilbur quickly pulled off to the side of the road so as to not crash. Wilbur reached over to his brother's face and looked at his eyes, they were still a little unfocused, but he could tell he was fully coming out of it. He placed a warm hand on his cheek.
"Hey Toms, can you hear me?" He asked, attempting to keep calm. There were still tears running down their faces. Tommy squeezed his brother's hand.
"Mm, sort'f" He mumbled. 'Well, it's better.' Wilbur thought. He nodded and grabbed his brother's hands and pulled them close. Wilbur sniffled.
"Okay, can you uh- can you name three different things you can see?" He asked. Tommy hummed a little.
"You, the dash of the- the car, and uhm. I can't- can't name anything else. It's all blurry." Tommy stumbled through talking. Wilbur nodded.
"Okay, that's okay, it's fine. Can you tell me three things you can feel?" The brunette asked. Tommy looked like he was struggling to name them.
"Your hand. U-uhm, my c-clothes? And the uh- uh- the air- air conditioner. In my face. Feels like I- can barely breathe." He breathes out. Wilbur mumbles a quiet curse and turns the air conditioner down before moving the two pointing at Tommy down just the smallest bit so they are out of his face.
"That last one was a good one, I didn't think about it, good job Toms." Wilbur praises. Wilbur finds that it hurts to see just how happy the praise made the blonde. Wilbur continues to have him name off three things he can hear, one thing he can smell and one he can taste.
"Hey, how about we get home, mkay?" Wilbur suggests. Tommy stares out the window before nodding. Wilbur pulls back onto the road and they continue on to the house.
When they get home, Wilbur really isn't expecting to see their father's car in the driveway. Wilbur gets out of the car and Tommy follows, throwing the blanket in the back of Wilbur's car again but keeping the tangle and taking it inside. Wilbur really doesn't mind. When they got inside, they really didn't expect to see the living room spotless, save for the few stains that would never come out of the couch and the rug. But other than that, everything seems to be straightened up. Wilbur pauses though when he sees a picture that's sat on the coffee table. A picture of mum. The picture that Phil had taken into his room soon after she had died. She died when giving birth to Tommy. Which Wilbur knew he felt guilty for. But they still hadn't managed to get it in his head that it wasn't his fault. While Phil had taken down the pictures in the house, he left one on his bedside table.
When Wilbur had asked him if Tommy could have one, he asked why. Wilbur told him it felt wrong for Tommy to not even know what their mum looked like save for a few terribly taken pictures on Wilbur or Techno's phones. When Wilbur told him this, he felt horrible for doing that to his youngest. But he didn't want to see her anymore than maybe once a day for he felt his heart would shatter more. For Tommy's fifth Christmas, 'Santa' had given him two pictures of his mother. Even though they both had the little note from Santa that all his presents had, he still stood up and ran into Wilbur's arms. It was safe to say that that day ended with a lot of happy tears.
Wilbur kicked off his shoes next to the door with Tommy who copied him. Wilbur began to pull his coat off.
"Dad?" Wilbur called after he tossed his coat on the rack and began to walk further into the house, Tommy stayed behind him, looking around in what seemed like wonder at the clean house while absentmindedly tugging on the tangle in his hands. There was a loud crashing noise from the kitchen. The two brothers became more alert immediately.
What if it's an intruder?!
It's not a fucking intruder, do you see our house? Who would be stupid enough to break into a house that looks like this?
Touche
Wilbur and Tommy cautiously creep into the kitchen despite this thought. They kind of didn't think that they'd see their father on the floor with spilled, wet cake mix and a metal bowl on the floor.
"Son of a bitch."Phil muttered under his breath before seeing two pairs of shoes and jumping about five feet in the air. Tommy snorted lightly. Wilbur raised an eyebrow, amused. Phil quickly stood up and hid the painfully obvious pack of candles on the countertop. Clearly Tommy was still a bit out of it and managed to not notice it.
"Wil! Toms! Wh-what are you two doing home?" The father squeaked. Wilbur looked unimpressed.
"I texted it in the group chat." Wilbur deadpanned. Phil looked a bit confused.
"I dissociated in the bathroom, Tubbo and Ranboo found me and took me to the office where Wilbur was then called. He got there and I don't really remember much but he pulled me out then suddenly we were in his car then we were pulled over and crying on the side of the road." Tommy piped up. Phil nodded absentmindedly. The two older men were surprised that Tommy would talk that much after dissociating.
"A-ah. Are you uhm- are you okay now?" Phil asked. Tommy shrugged, still burning a hole into the floor. Phil grabbed a paper towel and cleaned off his hands before walking up to his youngest son and gently placing his hands on the sides of his head and kissing him on the forehead. He draws back slowly and looks at his son, eyes softening.
"I'm sorry I couldn't be there to pick you up myself Toms." He whispered. His son's eyes carefully traveled up and looked into his father's blue ones. Tommy acknowledged the apology before nodding. Tommy sniffled as he tugged at the tangle.
"I'm going to uhm- I'm gonna go up- up-" He stuttered out. Wilbur nodded hurriedly.
"Yeah, how about you go try to get some sleep or something, try to relax, please." He urged. Tommy nodded and walked upstairs quickly.
Wilbur looked back at the mess his father had made. He raised a brow and looked at Phil who was now looking in the same direction.
"What in the fuck were you trying to do?" Wilbur asked the blonde. Phil sighed.
"I was trying to make a cake so we wouldn't have to make or buy one tomorrow. I've already got his presents wrapped, I just need to do this and get the decorations out, but I think I'll do that tonight when Tommy's asleep." Phil informed. Wilbur picked up the bowl off the floor and grabbed the spoon with it, he started scooping out the chocolate mix into the trash can.
"I can help you set up the decorations tonight." Wilbur suggested. Phil shook his head as he cleaned up the spilled mix on the floor.
"Nope, you need sleep bad Wil. I'm not taking that from you. You can wake up earlier tomorrow if you'd like but you better fucking sleep tonight." He demanded. Wilbur rolled his eyes as he cleaned the bowl in the sink. He thought about something he hadn't asked his dad yet.
"Hey, how come you're home so early?" Wilbur asked his father. Phil's face brightened as he straightened up.
"You know how I was trying to get the other job? The one with better hours, better pay? Yeah, well I got the job and I start on Monday." He said happily. Wilbur was still confused.
"I mean, yeah that's great but what does that have to do with you being home right now?" Wilbur asked his father. Phil grew sad.
"Ah uhm. Well I was- technically- fired. Honorably discharged, in a way. They said that I did great work there but not good enough and that I wouldn't be able to hold the new job and the current one. I mean, it's fine because I was getting ready to leave there anyway because I didn't want to be too stressed out with two jobs at once." Phil was quick to say. Wilbur was still upset.
"They fucking let you go?" The brunette yelled. Phil winced and made a hand motion, telling Wilbur to keep his voice down.
"Yeah, yeah they did, but like I said, it's okay because I was going to quit anyways. They said farewell, we wish you the best." He insisted. Wilbur looked annoyed.
"Sure, okay, yeah but that goes on your work history. People can see that when looking into hiring you Phil." Wilbur reminded. Phil nodded.
"Yeah, I know that mate. I'm trying to be optimistic, at least I now have what will hopefully be a better job. I'm hoping it'll pay more and I can get way more time off. I don't want to show that I'm upset about anything." He said as he began to wash his hands.
"How are you not upset?" Wilbur demanded. Phil looked at his son with a serious expression.
"Because I don't want your baby brother scared. I don't want Tommy to dissociate because of me. And I want him to have at least a decent birthday." He said. Wilbur looked down a bit ashamed, in a way.
"Right. Sorry." He apologized. His father looked at him with a tired expression.
"You're fine mate." He insisted. Phil took a breath and leaned against the counter, the two didn't say much of anything for a moment. Then Wilbur cleared his throat.
"I can go get some more mix when I pick up Techno. Is there anything else you need?" Wilbur asked as he put the bowl on the rack and dried his hands off with the towel.
"Oh, do you know if Tommy still likes curry? I was thinking of making that for tomorrow night." He said. Wilbur nodded and unzipped his jacket.
"Yeah, he still likes it. Do you need anything for it?" The brunette asked. Phil nodded and grabbed a piece of paper on the counter. He looked at it quickly before handing it to Wilbur.
"I need the stuff on that paper. Some of the things are just extra things that we need anyways." Phil said, wetting a rag and wiping the counter down.
"Cool. I'm gonna go now. I'll go to the store and- do you want anything from McDonalds? I'm gonna get Tommy and Techno their usual." Wilbur said. Phil tossed the rag back on the faucet.
"Yeah, can you get me the same thing as normal?" The father asked. Wilbur nodded.
"Yep. So store, McDonalds, then high school. Cool. I'm gonna check on Tommy before I go pick up Tech." He said, walking out of the kitchen and going upstairs.
Inhale.
Exhale.
Wilbur knocks.
No answer.
He knocks again.
No answer.
"Tommy? Are you okay?" He called through the door. He was getting worried. Until he heard a grumble on the other side of the door. He also heard the sound of someone moving.
"Wut?" A voice called from behind the door, hopelessly muffled. Wilbur definitely doesn't think Tommy would do something stupid when by himself. Thank fuck he answered.
"Can I come in? Or at least open it and stay at the door frame so I can stop talking to an inanimate object?" Wilbur called. He heard another muffled groan. He'd take it as a yes. He opened the door and saw his little brother laying in his bed, staring blankly at the ceiling. All though it did look like he threw on his hoodie in a hurry. Wilbur leaned against the door.
"So? How are you feeling?" Wilbur asked. Tommy shuffled a little bit and took a deep, yet shaky breath.
"Mmh. Better. Still in and out of it. Are you going somewhere?" He asked. Wilbur could see the blonde grasping his bed sheets as if attempting to keep himself grounded.
"Yeah I'm gonna go pick up Techno, get some stuff Phil needs, and get some McDonalds." He informed. Tommy shook his head slowly and hummed. Wilbur looked around his room.
"Mind if I come in real quick?" He asked. Tommy shrugged a little and nodded. Wilbur stepped in and looked around as if he hadn't been in there a while. He looked at the closet.
"Do you mind if I get in there real quick?" The brunette asked as he points at the closet door. Tommy shrugs and nods. Wilbur opens the closet door and looks around for a moment before seeing something on the floor. He reaches down and picks it up, when he turns back around, he is holding a stuffed cow. He had forgotten it was three fucking pounds. It was a weighted cow toy that Phil had gotten Tommy when he had been diagnosed with Autism and ADHD when he was around five or so. And while Tommy didn't like weighted blankets, he loved weighted stuffed animals. Wilbur walked over and handed the stuffed cow to Tommy who was already holding his arms out.
"I figured you'd need a friend. And I figured he wanted to have a friend too." Wilbur summed up. Tommy rolled his eyes ever so slightly.
"Yes, hello Henry, but I'm not a child anymore Wil." The blonde said. But even though he said it, he still smiled lightly and held the cow to his chest. Wilbur smiled and turned around.
"Well I'm gonna go get groceries, food and a certain brother of ours. Are you sure you'll be okay?" He asked hesitantly. Tommy nodded.
"Yeah, I'll be just fine." Tommy assured. Wilbur still looked like he didn't want to leave but nodded.
"Alright, be sure to yell if you need anything, Phil's downstairs. Bye, I love you." He said. Tommy nodded.
"Love you too." The blonde said. Wilbur nodded again and turned around, closing the door behind him.
Wilbur didn't even notice the blood on his baby brother's wrists.
Phil's POV
Wilbur had left about twenty or so minutes ago. And Phil decided to check on Tommy. He walked upstairs and knocked on the door. No answer. He knocks again. Still no answer.
"Toms?" Phil calls out. Still no answer, though there is what sounds like someone making a small humming noise. Phil knocks again. No answer.
"Tommy? Hey, I'm gonna come in okay?" He calls. No answer. Phil slowly pushes the door open to see nothing out of the ordinary. Until he sees Tommy's bed. His son is sitting on the bed, leaning against the wall, looking like he was in another world. Or high. Phil slowly walked up to his son and sat on the bed. Tommy's eyes are entirely unfocused, like he was...
"Toms? Hey sweetheart, I don't know if you can hear me, but I'm gonna lay you down okay? And I'll keep you from floating around too." Phil says. Tommy just keeps burning a hole into his bed as he looks at his hands shakily. Phil gently takes hold of his upper arm carefully moving him so he wasn't leaning against the wall. He places a hand on the back of his son's head as he slides his other arm under the boy's legs and places them on the bed. He carefully lowers his head onto the pillow. Phil lays his son down and takes ahold of Henry before placing him in Tommy's arms again. Then he gently grabs his hand and messages, gently pinches and plays with his knuckles. Anything to keep him grounded.
The two were sat there for a while. Phil keeping Tommy grounded as the blonde hummed every so often, showing Phil that he was there and that the dissociation wouldn't be as bad as normal. Phil couldn't help the few tears he shed while comforting his son. He was the reason Tommy was like this. He hadn't realized soon enough that the beatings were happening, and even then, he couldn't provide Tommy with the proper help he needed after the traumatizing event. Phil knew he fucked up big time. How in the fuck would he fix this? Phil felt Tommy squeeze his hand very lightly.
He looked up and saw his son who was looking at his father. Phil could faintly tell that behind the fog in Tommy's eyes that he was coming out of it. Phil wiped at his eyes quickly but he didn't expect his son to shakily collapse against him with the closest thing to a hug that he could muster. Phil smiled lightly and chuckled quietly, wrapping his arms around the blonde.
"Thanks bubs. You here enough for me to start asking the questions?" The older blonde asked. Tommy hesitantly shook his head and hummed. Phil nodded and carefully wrapped his arms around his son protectively. Not to where it was too tight, but enough to keep the younger close to his chest and help ground him.
"Okay, that's just fine, I'll keep you here until you're ready." He said before placing a light kiss in Tommy's hair. It wasn't too long later when Tommy hummed and mumbled his father's name. Phil snapped to and asked him the questions. Five things you can see, three things you can hear, etc. When Tommy could speak in full sentences again, they heard the front door open and close. They hadn't quite realized how long it had been since Wilbur left. Tommy's stuffed cow wasn't even warm anymore. Phil gestured to Tommy's bedroom door and the younger blonde stood and followed his father out.
When the two got downstairs, they saw Wilbur putting groceries away in the fridge as Techno was attempting to figure out who's food was who's. The pinkette looked up and waved to his little brother. Tommy smiled lightly and waved back to the man. Wilbur was struggling to find a place to put certain things in the fridge so his father stepped over to help. Tommy began to help Techno sort through the food.
"So I hear you came home early?" Techno asked. Tommy looked at him and nodded. Techno noted the silence.
"Want to tell me about what happened?" He asked. Tommy shrugged and began signing to his brother. The whole family had started to learn sign language after Techno had gone entirely silent for three days straight. They asked his old therapist about it and she said that it was normal for a neurodivergent kid to have silent days, even if it happened for several days straight. When Techno was younger, they had gotten him a therapist because of his sensory issues as well as anxiety, but after about a year of him going, they couldn't pay for it anymore as it was just too much money that they didn't have. So the family learned sign language. An easier way to communicate if they didn't feel like talking. And Tommy started doing that far more often after the ordeal with Dream.
"Dissociated multiple times. Still feel like shit. Don't want to talk." Tommy signed. Techno nodded and grabbed the McDonalds bag, throwing it in the trash.
"Makes sense. Let me know if you wanna steal any of my fidgets. And if do want to talk today, I'll listen, not good at advice though." Techno said. Tommy smiled and nodded before mouthing 'thank you'. Techno nodded himself before handing Tommy his food. He took it and walked to the table.
Phil, being the doting father he is, didn't let the younger kids clean up after.
They all had wanted to help, but Phil had brushed them off and given excuses for them all. Wilbur had been doing too much recently. Tommy's practically been dissociated the whole day. And when Techno said, 'What about me?' Phil shrugged and said, 'I don't fuckin know uh Autism? Good enough answer?' Phil had said with a smile. Techno snorted lightly and shrugged before grabbing his McDonalds cup and took a drink before walking upstairs to his room. And as Wilbur stepped into the bathroom and closed the door, Tommy tapped on his father's shoulder. Phil spun around, brandishing a smile. Tommy spread his arms open. An invitation. Phil's smile seemed to get a little brighter.
Phil opened his own arms and Tommy crashed into him. Tommy loved hugs. He would never admit it because he was, and I quote, 'a big man that needed no one'. But Phil took him in his arms without hesitation or question. Phil placed a light kiss in his son's blonde hair. Tommy carefully pulled away but still stayed in his father's arms as the pair's blue eyes fell on each others. Phil smiled.
"I love you Toms, you know that?" Phil whispered. Tommy smiled and nodded before making a heart with his hands. Phil chuckled a little and kissed his son on the head again. They heard a gag next to them. They looked in the direction and saw Wilbur stood there with a look of fake disgust. Tommy smiled before walking over to his brother and doing the same thing he did with his dad. He opened his arms. Wilbur scooped his brother up into his arms. Tommy squeaked before letting out a small laugh. Wilbur confidently walked to the couch and dropped him on the cushions. Tommy laughed more as Wilbur hugged him tight.
"Love you bubs." Wilbur insisted when he got a good look at his brother's face. Tommy smiled and shoved his face into Wilbur's chest. Wilbur let out another laugh and hugged him again. The two separated and smiled. Wilbur let his little brother get up off of the couch. Phil was already cleaning off the table.
"Going to bed night." Tommy signed. Wilbur smiled and nodded.
"Night bubs, I love you." He said with a smile. Tommy nodded before heading upstairs and closing his door.
Tommy was talking to his friends on the phone when it happened. Well Tommy wasn't necessarily 'talking' he was texting over the chat in discord.
"So you are sure you're okay now?" Ranboo's distorted voice asked. Tommy laughed a little and nodded before typing.
"I'm just fine big man, if I wasn't okay, I wouldn't be here right now would I?" He messaged. The two read the message.
"Tom, if you were fine, you would be talking right now." Tubbo bounced back. Tommy playfully glared at the camera. Ranboo nodded.
"He's got a point Tommy." He whispered.
"What, do I have to talk?" The blonde typed. Tubbo rolled his eyes.
"He's got a point Tubbo." Ranboo said. Tubbo looked a bit frustrated.
"Who's side are you on?!" Tubbo yelped. Ranboo and Tommy laughed. Right as he laughed though, Tommy felt an odd burning sensation in his throat. Like he was going to throw up.
"Tommy? Are you okay?" He heard Ranboo ask with concern in his voice. Tommy stood up and rushed out of the room even as he heard his friends' worried yelps. He bursted through his bedroom door and went into the bathroom before collapsing in front of the toilet and letting it out. Tommy wondered if Techno could hear him, he was the only real night owl in the house, minus Tommy staying up late sometimes. Vomit continued rushing out of him at a rapid pace, he barely got any time to take a breath before he was going for round 3 of throwing up. It took an uncomfortably amount of time for Tommy to stop throwing up. That goddamned McDonalds was the only thing he had eaten for days, and of course it had to be fast food, just the cherry on top to send him retching in the toilet. Tommy was shivering and sweaty at the same damn time.
He knew it wasn't him being sick, it was just his body rejecting the unusual amount of food he ate. He sat there for ten minutes or so before he had decided he stopped throwing up. He flushed the toilet before carefully standing up. He stood in front of the sink and looked in the mirror. He had tears rolling down his face. He wiped them away before turning the sink on. Water immediately began rushing out as he soaked his hands and scrubbed at his face, taking in the lovely feeling of the cool water on his face. Tommy grabbed the plastic cup sat on the sink and filled it up. He swished some of it around in his mouth in attempt to wash out the taste of bile in his throat. He spat the water out and repeated the same process before beginning to take small sips of the water. He sat the cup down and leaned against the sink, just taking in breaths. After a minute or so of doing that, he decided he should be good enough to go back to his room.
Crap, he totally forgot about Tubbo and Ranboo, they were probably freaking the fuck out. He rushed back into his room to see his friends still sat in the call, mics and cameras off. But the moment Tommy showed up on screen, they turned their cameras and mics on. Just like Tommy thought, they looked worried.
"Tommy are you okay? You just left, what happened?" Tubbo asked hurriedly. Tommy did his best to hide the fact that he just threw up and he even cleared his throat and spoke, even though his throat was on fire.
"M'fine." He said, a faux smile covering his face. Tubbo scrunched up his face.
"I'm surprised you're talking already." He admitted. Tommy shrugged.
"Eh, guess I just needed some time to not talk for a bit. Anyways guys, I think I'm going to go, real tired, y'know? Uh, night." Ranboo looked like he was going to say something, but Tommy left the call. Tommy took a shaky breath and got off Discord. Tommy sat in his chair, just staring off into space. Not dissociated, just spacing out. He spun around and looked at his bed, then looked lower and saw a rope sticking out from under it ever so slightly. Tommy was shaking, he took another short breath and stood, walking to his bed. He pushed the rope further under the bed with a nudge of his foot before promptly collapsing in his bed. He couldn't stop shaking. And he really thought about pulling the noose back out and- but he couldn't bring himself to. He did look over at his nightstand though. He took a deep breath. And reached over and opened the top drawer before reaching to the back and pulling on the razor, ripping the tape that held it there. He didn't even close the drawer as he pulled withdrew his arm from it. He shook, and nearly even dropped the small blade.
11 more cuts.
Tommy cried himself to sleep.
The next morning...
Tommy unfortunately made the mistake of not covering up the cuts from the night prior. When he woke up, the crusted over blood that painted his wrists was latching onto his sheets, trying to make them begin to bleed again. Tommy winced and carefully pulled his arm away from the blankets. He reached onto his nightstand and pulled his phone off of it. He turned it on. 9:46 less than two hours. If everything goes correctly, Tommy will be dead within the next hour or two. He looks at his door. Should he go downstairs? Or stay in here?