Chapter Text
“Holy shit! Stop! You’re actually going to kill him!”
“That’s what I’m trying to fucking do! This little good for nothing brat is going to rat us out!”
Smack.
Thrash.
Hit.
Blood.
Pain.
Bruises.
Locked doors.
Small rooms.
“Look at this little kid I picked up. He came with a load of cash, and as a free punching bag! You can literally beat him all night, and he won’t say a thing! Try it.”
Bruises.
Showers.
Disgust.
Broken bones.
“You don’t deserve to be here, so be happy I’m putting up with your shit. And stop with the fake drama. We all know you don’t have anxiety, depression, or whatever shit you made up. You’re just searching for an excuse to not be so useless.”
“I bet the next home you go to won’t even keep you for a week!”
Scissors.
Blood.
Broken items.
Slap.
Thrash.
“I-I’m so-sorry… plea-se I wo-on’t do-do it again I— …PLEASE-“ He pleads, but to no avail, as he feels the air being pushed out of him when he’s kicked in the ribs.
“Andddddddddd… here we are!”
The car came to a stop, as miss Puffy said as enthusiastically as she could, that they had arrived.
The sudden stop pushed Tommy forward, pulling him out of his own head. Though, the suddenness wasn’t really ‘sudden’, as they’d been in a car for almost an hour.
Apparently, this new guy was living somewhere north east of England. Tommy never bothered remembering the addresses of his new place of residence. He’d be put back into the system anyway, why fill your brain with such useless info? Not like you’d need it one day.
He touched at the small bruise under his eye, wincing slightly. Puffy had helped him hide it a bit with make up, but it still hurt.
The chipper tone of the woman who’s been keeping track of the various homes he’s been to, says the same line yet again. Reassuring him that this is his ‘forever home’.
“This is a really nice guy, and he had previous interactions with adoption, so he’ll know just what to do! Well, technically. Anyway, are you ready to go?” There really wasn’t an option in this situation, as it was more of a rhetorical question. So Tommy just gave a slight nod, and grabbed his green backpack.
Puffy stepped out of the car, as did Tommy. This is where the nerves started hitting hard. It was always the hardest part – first meeting his ‘caretaker’. As it was, they’d first act really friendly, and outgoing. But it was only a matter of time until they changed their posture completely, and threw off the mask they’d been wearing. The hardest part was introducing himself. Saying too little would push interest away, usually starting the abuse quicker. Saying too much, would bring more people into the abuse. Acting sweet and childish, would prove to put him in the system again quicker, whilst acting mature would make the person keep him longer.
At this point, Tommy was really good at reading the faces of people, and putting on ones himself. He’d gotten good at knowing when to push, and when to pull back. He’d read the mood of the room quickly, and would understand the boundaries worryingly fast.
So when miss Puffy rang the doorbell, and Tommy heard the frantic steps coming from inside, something was ready brewing in that brain of his.
In those split seconds of walking to the house he’d stay in for max two months, he viewed the house itself.
It looked neat from the looks of it – nothing too big, but nothing too small either. Two floors… no wait three. The attic probably held some stuff as well. Big windows, muted colours, this guy was the most basic bitch out there.
“Ah- yes. Hello.” The man in question answered the door.
“Hello! We spoke on the phone briefly, this is Tom.” Puffy said, as energetic as she always was.
Tommy gave a small nod, and looked away, not meeting the eyes of his new foster ‘dad’. He never liked eye contact. Seeing the persons genuine eyes gave him just that glimmer of hope, that maybe the abuse would start only two weeks in, …maybe even not start. But those were the foolish thoughts of the 12 year old that stood there, pulling at the band around his wrist.
Snap.
“Hey there, I’m Phil. Tom, right?” He smiled.
Tommy looked at his face, still avoiding eye contact. “Tommy.” He said silently. His ribs still hurt from the last ‘family’, and he honestly was just so tired.
Snap.
“Why don’t you come in then? I can make you some coffee, or tea?” Phil suggested, stepping by to the side and opening the door widely.
“Right. We could sign the documents then.” Puffy was welcomed to the home, as she pushed Tommy’s back to step inside as well.
The home wasn’t a huge space, but it was relatively big, being the lack of separate rooms.
Tommy liked big spaces.
From the door he was standing in, looking to the left, he could see what he supposed was the living part of the room. It had a darker grey couch, with differentiating shades of grey pillows, placed haphazardly around it. So not a cleaning freak.
Under the L shaped couch, was a navy blue soft looking rug. Opposite of the couch was a TV on a warn coffee table. Between the two was a newer one, with a black glass top.
To the right, there was the kitchen. The cabinet tables forming a U shape, the open part facing the front door. Connected to the wall and above the cabinets were shelves and wall cabinets. Back against the wall was a fridge, an oven, and a sink. In the middle of the U shape, was an island. Facing the wall, on the outer side of the cabinets was 4 stools.
Over all, the kitchen had a red-black theme, some things like the fridge or the trashcan right by the fridge were a silver colour. All around the counter tops were various things, along the lines of those items, was kitchen paper, a microwave, kitchen utensils hung on the wall, and a fruit bowl.
Basic bitch.
Closer to Tommy was a narrow staircase, up it was darkness, but Tommy was way too lazy to try and figure out what’s up there, so he guessed it might’ve been the other kid’s - Phil supposedly adopted – room, a bathroom and probably Phil’s room. Basic bitch vibes.
The whole first floor had muted colours, opposed to some other houses he’d been in. This one was more low-key and friendly, almost fooling Tommy himself. Still, he stood guard, just waiting till the niceties drop. He’s done this time and time again.
They see the papers, they get annoyed. Miss Puffy leaves, they act nicely, and pretend to ‘chat’. A day or two passes, and they’re already pissed by his constant presence. Then it’s only a matter of time, honestly.
“Coffee? Tea?” Phil asked, once the three of them were in the house, and out of the cold air.
“Coffee would be good, thank you.” Puffy smiled as she put on the slippers, given to her by Phil. Tommy didn’t bother putting on the slippers, instead he walked with his socks after taking off his shoes.
“What about you?” He looked in the direction of Tommy, expecting an answer. Tommy wasn’t expecting Phil to ask him, though.
“Tea.” He said quietly, but loudly enough for Phil to hear him.
Snap.
Puffy put a hand on Tommy’s shoulder – making Tommy unnoticeably jump - and smiled softly, with reassuring eyes. Little did she know what happens after she leaves.
“You can go sit down on the couch while I prepare the beverages.” Phil pointed to the L shaped couch at the other side of the room.
Puffy led Tommy to the couch, her hand still wrapped around his shoulder. Damn. He really has no choice in this.
He’d still rather stay in an abusive home, than in the orphanage.
The both of them sat down, back faced to the kitchen, as puffy grabbed some files she was carrying in her purse. Tommy couldn’t see what was written on them, but he could guess.
How many homes he’s been to, how much abuse he’s been through, mental health issues, and physical health issues. Contracts, signatures, etc., etc.
Snap.
In a short amount of time, Phil prepared the tea and coffee, and brought it to the table. He gave miss Puffy some black coffee in a small cup, and a little bit of white chocolate on the plate which held the tasty looking caffeine. He held Tommy’s tea in the other, which Tommy took with a small nod, and a quiet “thanks”.
Black tea with milk. He truly is a basic bitch.
“Sooooo, here are the papers. You need to sign here, and here,” she pointed to different parts of the white sheet when she leaned closer to him, leaving Tommy to awkwardly sit there.
“I’d also advice you to read the second page… hold on, let me.” She fiddled with the paper, and grabbed a pen. Then scribbled something on it, probably underlining important info.
“But I’d also advice you to read it when you’re… alone.” She made a subtle gesture towards the 12 year old boy, awkwardly sitting there, dressed in a dark grey hoodie, and blue jeans. Blonde hair, blue eyes, and other – not so friendly looking features.
Phil nodded, and proceeded to read into the other pages, occasionally asking Puffy questions.
Tommy felt that stuff was boring, and he felt left out in their adult stuff, so he zoned out of their conversation. Instead, he focused on his surroundings. Judging the area around him, and analysing.
Now that he looked further, he saw an armchair across him near the TV, and the fire place, against the wall. The obvious Christmas decorations still not taken down. It’s past New Years, c’mon man.
Big windows, going down to the floor dazzled in natural light. There was a door to a room behind the couch, when he looked back at the kitchen, he saw a small corridor and another door.
He heard shifting behind him, so he eyed the area without looking suspicious, barely looking in the direction of the sound.
Snap.
It was the narrow stairway. He saw two… no. Four feet scrambled up the stairs. Both wearing socks, and jeans. One was with dark blue ones, the other had black. Both socks were very simple, the one with black jeans had ones in the shade of green, the other orange.
Snap.
Strange. And here Tommy thought Phil had only one other child. The two pairs of feet looked older though.
“Alright!” Tommy didn’t even notice Phil was looking at the staircase too.
“Here’s my number if you need anything, or have any questions.” Puffy said as she collected one copy of the documents (there were two?). She stood up, apparently she already finished her coffee, and was getting ready to leave.
Snap.
“Thanks for coming again, my car is still being fixed, I thought it’d be fixed earlier, but apparently some bug with the system made the receptionist think I would have it last week.” Phil walked her to the door.
Snap.
“Oh no it’s fine, I just hope they don’t get fired.” She giggled.
Snap.
“Goodbye Tommy! I would say ‘hope to see you soon’, but in this scenario it’s quite the opposite.” she laughed again. Tommy gave her a small nod, and she left.
Snap.
Please don’t leave me alone.
Snap. Snap.
Phil walked back to the couch, as Tommy sipped on the tea again.
Snap.
“So.” He looked at Tommy, with a warm smile.
“I’m guessing the trip to here was exhausting, and you probably want to relax a bit.” Tommy took another sip, finally finishing the warm tea.
“And I see you have a few things to unpack. I could show you to your room, if you’d like.” He smiled sincerely, as he looked at the green backpack between his feet. For a moment he could’ve fooled Tommy, but his gut screamed at him, reminding him of the last time he trusted a man with a sincere smile.
Snap.
“Sure.” Tommy put on his normal cockiness, to see how Phil would react.
He didn’t. That was the second thing that threw Tommy off guard. First, he didn’t want to ‘get to know each other’ first things first, second, he didn’t react indifferently to the obvious shift in pace.
This guy was weird. Definitely weird. Probably had really weird kinks as well.
Tommy put the empty cup down on the coffee table, and Phil stood up, offering the teen a hand. Tommy ignored it, standing up himself.
Phil just ignored the semi-awkward interaction, and stepped towards the staircase.
Bingo.
Phil walked up the stairs first, leaving Tommy to walk behind. Tommy preferred it to be this way. At least if he’d be pushed he’d fall on his back, and not break is nose falling on his face.
They made their way to the top of the stairs, and he could see five doors – three on the right, and two on the left. Around the walls were a few picture frames, and a plant in the furthest corner of the room.
“This is the bathroom,” Phil pointed to the closest door on the left. “And further down the wall, there is my bedroom.”
“And over here, is your room.” He smiled, as he pointed to the door closest to them on the right wall. “I’ll let you settle in, but later I’ll have to call you so you could meet your brothers.” Phil opened the door of the room.
Snap.
“Younger?” Tommy asked, in a monotone voice.
Snap.
Phil was taken back by Tommy’s… not so wording, but the I-get-to-the-point-quick, type of talking. He’d only said a handful of words since he’d met him, but he seemed confident in his stance, but always watching.
“Uh… older.” Phil answered. Tommy felt his stomach sink to his feet, as he realised what Phil said.
Snap.
Oh god.
Snap.
At least with younger siblings, he’d be beaten by the adults. Who had half a mind of when to stop, so that no one would notice the blue bruises. But with older siblings, they beat you till you pass out, or they get bored.
Snap.
The brutal mentality of being used to waking up bruised after passing out in your own room, still standing up and cracking your neck after barely sleeping, and still putting on a façade and acting like everything is fine – is painful. He remembers his third home, when he had an older brother. Born with a stick up his ass, he was 5 years older than Tommy. His studies seemed to stress him out a lot, so he ended up breaking Tommy’s arm.
Snap. Snap.
He doesn’t want to think about it. He doesn’t want to think about anything, really. He just wants to be alone. To sleep.
Snap.
As Phil opened the door, Tommy examined it. The door could be locked, that’s for sure, but it didn’t seem like Phil had a key.
The room itself wasn’t too small, but it was pretty much bare. A bed in the far right corner, a window directly opposite the door. It had some blinds, covering half of the window. It had a dark grey and soft rug around the bed. On the left, he could see a wardrobe, the white walls of it, contrasting the dark grey rug. It looked kinda modern, with no handles and a clean design. Standing near the wardrobe, was a desk. A very simple one with a desk chair under which was a mat, to not scrape the floorboards.
A light on the ceiling, and a night light on the bedside table.
The walls were a nice beige colour, complimented by the white skirting board along the floor.
“I really didn’t know what you’d like, but we can add more things as we go along. I’ll leave you here to settle in, and if you need anything, I’ll be downstairs.” He smiled again. Does he ever stop smiling? He closed the door silently, and finally left Tommy alone.
God he was tired.
He pushed the backpack under the bed and sat down on it. It was… surprisingly comfortable. The bed itself had white sheets, and a red blanket. Something about it made Tommy feel safer.
He leaned against the wall and brought his feet up to his chest, fiddling with his hands.
He didn’t even notice how he fell asleep, with the comforting sound of the clock ticking over the door to the hallway.
Tommy heard some shuffling outside of his door. He opened his bleary eyes.
Tommy was always a vigilant sleeper, he woke up to any unexpected sound, but knew to keep quiet and not to move.
Knock, knock.
A knock sounded at the door. Quickly after, he hear Phil’s voice.
“Tommy?” Phil was careful. Tommy staggered and sat up, and Phil took that as an invite to open the door.
“Hey,” he smiled. God, when will he take off that smile that was always plastered on his face?
Tommy looked away slightly, then began fiddling with his hands again, bringing up his knees to his chest.
“You hungry? I made some lunch.” Phil offered.
Tommy moved his head to the side. He could go and eat at the table with them, but then he’d have to sit through the awkward introductions, and stares.
“I could bring the food to you, if you don’t feel like talking to anyone.” Phil offered again, this time, his offer didn’t seem so bad.
Tommy nodded, still unsure if he was in the mood to eat.
Now that he thought about it, he guessed he never really saw anything bad with his malnutrition. But after driving for almost an hour, and sleeping for a few more, he didn’t feel hungry. He didn’t even get that much to eat last night. He was just used to being hungry, that he didn’t feel the hunger anymore.
Actually, what time was it?
Snap.
“Okay. I’ll bring you the food then, you stay here. Again, if you need anything, I’ll be downstairs.” He gave a small nod to Tommy, and left the room (he hadn’t really stepped in, in the first place), closing the door behind him.
Once Phil had left, Tommy looked at the clock above the door.
He noticed it before, given the constant sound it produced, but he never really paid attention to it. He kind of just let it be there, a tick and tock, reassuring him that things were okay. At least, for now they were.
1:15pm. He got here at about 11, he must’ve passed out for a while.
He could hear Phil shuffling up the stairs outside of the confined place he was in, and eventually, he heard another two knocks on the door.
“It’s me, Phil.” He heard Phil say.
Phil opened the door to reveal him carrying a plate full of food, and a glass of water. He put down the plate of food, right next to it the utensils and the glass of water after.
“If you don’t finish it all, that’s fine. When you do, you can just leave it here.” Phil clasped his hands together and looked over to Tommy.
Tommy gave a slight nod, again shifting his posture, and looking away.
Snap.
“Sure. Thanks.”
Snap.
Phil smiled, he wasn’t expecting Tommy to actually talk. He didn’t want to overbear the child, so he made an awkward hand movement, pointing to the door, and walking away.
He closed the door behind him, and finally, Tommy was alone again.
“He’s not gonna come?” Techno asked, once he saw Phil walking down the stairs.
Wilbur turned to face his father, who somehow seemed almost relieved, and excited.
“Sadly not, but we shouldn’t push him if he doesn’t want to.” Phil walked over to the table near the kitchen, and pulled up a chair.
“Fucking princess.” Wilbur said under his breath, Techno snorted, deciding to humour Wil.
“What?” Phil asked, oblivious to what Wilbur just said.
“Oh, I just said that this stew is really good.” Wilbur innocently smiled, and Techno gave a small smirk, looking away and putting another piece of meat into his mouth.
“Thanks! My grandma used to make this a lot, I’m happy that you liked it!” Phil gave a lighthearted smile, making Wilbur feel just a tad bit guilty. But who cares? It was true, both the coverup and the joke.
Ever since the brat stepped into the home, he disregarded any friendship Phil was offering to the kid. He acted like he already owned the place, and was rude as hell. Not to mention ungrateful.
Wil got into a sour mood, thinking about the new kid. Why did Phil want another one? Were he and Techno not good enough for him?
Wilbur drank from his glass of water to calm himself. No matter how much he hated people like that dick of a child, he couldn’t act immature. Especially when Phil was so serious in asking them to be nice to… T, Tim? Timmy? Or was it Tom? Eh, he’ll ask Techno later.
The three of them sat in silence for the rest of lunch, accompanied by rare small chatter from Phil and plans for next week. School wouldn’t start for another, and Phil didn’t want the two twins to sit at home all day – especially with the new addition to the family.
“Hey dad?” Wilbur called out, laying on Techno, mindlessly watching the TV about some fake drama, and fiddling with a Rubik’s cube. Techno on the other hand, was strumming single guitar strings, amazed by the instrument his brother could play.
Phil was putting plates back where they belonged, in one of the top cabinets.
“Yup?” Phil answered.
“Can we watch a movie tonight? We still have some of that popcorn from last time.” Wilbur got irritated at the cube, that made no sense, and threw it at the side of the couch. It bounced off, but didn’t fall off, which made Wil even more irritated.
“I mean… sure. Why not? What movie were you thinking of watching?” Phil dried his hands on the towel, and leaned against the counters.
Techno was still very fascinated by the instrument.
“Well, we haven’t watched Up in a while.” Wilbur pondered as he pointed to the turning keys on the guitar.
“What the fuck.” Techno whispered under his breath.
“Hey! Techno!” Phil called out (so he heard that?).
“Sorry.” Techno haphazardly apologised, now more interested in the keys that changed the sound of the strings.
“Don’t change it up too much, it’s a bother to get it back to normal.” Wilbur warned Techno, who just hummed.
“Yeah, we could watch Up. Maybe Tommy would want to join us as well?” Phil replied to Wilbur’s previous question.
Wilbur subtly rolled his eyes at the mention if the new kid’s name.
“Wasn’t there a new movie that came out? Soul, was it?” Techno suggested, finally pulling his attention away from the instrument and putting his opinion in the pile.
“Yeah, that’s an option as well. Is it on Netflix?” Phil asked, to which, Wilbur reacted by grabbing the remote, and fiddling with it for a bit, before opening Netflix.
“Uhh… hold on.” He typed out with the remote “souls” into the search bar and pressed enter.
“Yeah.” Wilbur sounded almost surprised at the fact that Netflix had the movie. Honestly, he just wanted to watch Up.
“Or, we could watch Up. I suggested the new movie because, well, it’s new, but if Wilbur wants to watch Up, we can.” Techno noticed the sour expression on his brother’s face.
“Yes.” Wilbur didn’t hesitate. Some irritation was lifted from the boy’s face.
“Sure! I’m fine with anything,” Phil agreed on the decision made. “I’m gonna go check up on Tommy, you guys can get the popcorn ready and get the movie started.” Techno gave a thumbs up, as Wil stood up getting ready to get the popcorn.
And like that, Phil stepped up the stairs.
Knock, knock.
“Tommy?” Tommy heard a muffled voice at the back of his head. Half asleep, he didn’t feel like answering. Phil slightly opened the door, to sneak a peak, maybe something was wrong.
Phil felt his shoulders fall down with relief, when he saw Tommy sleeping on the bed. It was around 7pm by that point, so Tommy was probably really tired. Phil then opened the door further, stepping onto the wooden floorboards. He walked to the desk, to pick up the empty plate and glass of water. The utensils and dishes were put neatly in one place, everything finished on the plate. It was either that Tommy was really hungry, or too afraid to leave any food out. It was concerning to think it might be the latter.
Phil picked up the dishes as quietly as he could, as to not awake the sleeping child.
When Phil put the utensils on the plate, it made a quiet clunk, which seemed to wake Tommy up – because he shifted his feet.
“Hey.” Phil announced his presence, reassuring the 12 year old that it was only him.
No response.
“You awake?” Phil asked, he put down the dishes again on the table.
Tommy shuffled a tad, as a sign that he was, in fact, awake. The perks of being a vigilant sleeper.
Phil sat down the end of the bed, careful not to scare the kid. Tommy’s eyes were fully wide by that point, his heart beating fast in the dark room.
“Wil and Techno – your brothers – they wanted to watch a movie. I was hoping to ask you if you wanted to join in.” Phil said, looking at the ceiling, as calmly as he could, explained the situation.
Tommy simply looked in the direction of Phil, who wasn’t looking at him, which made Tommy feel just a bit safer. He sat up, and looked away, before Phil looked at him.
“Sure.” Tommy replied, still sleepy.
Snap.
Phil smiled, and went to pick up the empty dish. He made his way to the half open door, and opened it more widely, as an invitation for Tommy to step outside.
Tommy stood up, and went to follow Phil. He closed the door behind him, as Phil made his way downs stairs.
Slowly, darkness faded into light, it felt so bright, that Tommy had to squint to get used to the big difference. Phil was standing in the kitchen, as he put down the plate, fork and knife, and glass in the sink. Tommy saw two boys sitting in the couch. He eyes them warily. Tommy recognised the socks and pants the two were wearing.
One looked like an arsehole, brown curly hair, refined jawline, brown eyes, yellow jumper and black pants. His eyes were narrowed, and annoyed. He better not piss him off, because the guy who he was laying on seemed to hold the arsehole in a protective stance.
The other guy had pink, shoulder length hair, tied into a low ponytail. His eyes were also narrowed, but narrowed in a more “I’m-so-tired-and-uninterested” kinda look. His stance was intimidating. He looked like he could tower over Tommy, and beat him to a pulp, somehow finding a way to prove that Tommy did it to himself.
He better not piss off that guy as well.
The difference between Phil and the two boys that sat on the couch was almost impossible. Phil seemed kind, and warm, while these two fuckers looked like they could make his murder seem like a suicide.
And honestly he’d probably commit suicide if he had to be in that room for more than five minutes.
Sadly, Phil saw nothing wrong with the way the three teens stared at each other, with the murderous vibe clearlyhanging around to two that laid on the couch.
“Tommy, you can go sit down, I’ll go and grab a blanket or two.” Phil gestured to the couch.
Tommy listened to the man, and made his way to hell.
He sat down where he sat when he first stepped into the home, and brought his knees up to his chest. Feeling the two pairs of eyes fixated on him, he felt uncomfortable, and looked away.
Snap.
The TV, as promised, had a movie ready to play on it. The remote sat on the coffee table, as well as a bowl overfilled with popcorn. Tommy eyed the bowl carefully. Of course he wanted some, but no way would he get any closer to the two psychopaths who looked like they were about to commit arson. His arm would probably be bit off if he’d try to reach for some.
Snap.
Snap.
Tommy sat as far away from the two as possible, feeling mildly unsafe. He felt his heart beat in his chest quicker, as he tried to control his breathing.
Snap.
Snap.
Snap.
“Oh would you fucking stop that??” The brown haired arsehole was already annoyed. Shit.
“S-sorry.” Tommy muttered under his breath, instead opting to scratch at his skin.
“What? Speak the fuck up, I can’t hear you.” The brown shit said mockingly.
Scratch.
He heard the pink haired teen mutter something under his breath, to what the other teen reacted with a betrayed look.
Scratch.
Scratch.
“You heard me, bitch boy.” Tommy was not having it. He needed to show his dominance, and you know what? He didn’t care if he’d get beat. He also needed to know how far he’s able to push.
“Excuse me?” The teen replied, seeming as though he could snap at any moment.
This was not good.
Wilbur was already annoyed by minor inconveniences of the day, and now with this new kid at their home, he was like a cat. He only kept to low growls for a while, but now he was ready to attack this stray cat that was brought in by their dad.
“You heard me, bitch boy.” The blonde kid said, with a cockiness that wasn’t in his voice before, literally moments ago when he apologised for something that Wilbur was annoyed about.
Bruuuuhhhh why did he do that???? It was bad enough, but now he just made it worse!
“Excuse me?” Wilbur was, for a lack of a better word, fucking pissed. This blonde fucker had the audacity to push his limits in a place he barely knows.
Even Techno was impressed by this kid’s guts. How old was he? 13? 12? And he challenged two 15 year olds, who both could kick him down with one simple knock. The guy looked like a stick! He could barely hold a stance!
“You little fuck.” Suddenly, Techno lost hold of his twin brother, who launched him self to the frail kid.
A wave of fear washed over the kid’s eyes. How could it not? Wilbur looked feral. But then, Techno saw a hint of satisfaction, like he just won something. Clearly, the kid was blind.
But yet again, fear filled his vision. Techno saw as the kid pushed himself in a protective stance instead of running away – as if expecting to be hit, and would rather be hit, then piss the person off more by trying to flee.
It was smart, somehow, but still. Sacrificing himself to feel pain now, then more later? It was a bit stupid. But he seemed to know what he was doing, so Technoblade sat back. After all – Wilbur needed to put him to in his place.
Shit. Fuck, shit, god fucking damn it.
The brown haired dick stood up, and stormed over to Tommy.
Okay, maybe he wasn’t expecting the arsehole to blow up this quickly, and maybe he wasn’t expecting him to be storming over to Tommy, already getting ready to hit him.
Tommy lifted up his arms to protect the head. His heart was beating faster and faster, his breathing quickened.
Another thing he wasn’t expecting, was for the hitting to start so early. Last time, he lasted for over 2 months before calling miss Puffy. He might not be able to hold out this long this time. Usually, the abuser starts after a week earliest,but it was kinda his fault for pissing off this guy as his first interaction. He already seemed annoyed, and the fact that Tommy wanted to test his theory now was very stupid of him.
“WILBUR.” Tommy’s breath quickened when he heard the wrath in Phil’s voice when he came into the area to see Wilbur storming to Tommy.
“What?! I wasn’t gonna do anything! Plus, you should’ve heard what this kid said!” The arse- …Wilbur pointed accusingly at Tommy, who was on the edge of being thrown into a panic attack.
“I don’t care what he said, this is not how you treat a person when you’re angry with them.” Phil’s voice was firm and towered over Wilbur’s, or anyone else’s for that matter.
Wilbur grumbled, and sat down on the couch, taking his place laying on Techno again.
“And you.” Phil looked towards Techno.
If the pink haired teen hadn’t reacted, Tommy could’ve sworn Phil was blaming Tommy. Tommy was blaming himself, anyways.
“He lunged at him, I couldn’t stop Wil in time-“ Techno spoke for the first time, and if Tommy wasn’t currently freaking out, he could’ve sworn a person’s voice could not possibly get deeper.
Tommy unfocused on the situation to focus on calming his breathing. Memories started flooding in, and foolishly he desperately tried stopping them by closing his eyes.
It’s fine. You’re fine. You’ve been through worse. Have you been through worse? No. It’s fine. You’ve done it before, and you’ll do it again. Stop shaking. Stop fucking shaking. Worthless piece of shit, can’t even stop shaking? Like fuck, calm down!-
“Hey, you okay?” Phil turned to Tommy, who was sitting, face set in a grumpy look.
Tommy snapped back into reality, and looked up to Phil’s face – still avoiding the eyes.
“I’m fine.” Tommy looked away and replied haphazardly.
Phil gave a slight nod. Even if he didn’t seem to believe Tommy’s lie, he didn’t push further. That’s not how you do it. He thought, trying to convince himself that pushing the kid into answering wasn’t the right way to go. It still nagged at him that Tommy could lie to his face, and put on a façade as easily as that. He was no Techno, he couldn’t read faces as well as that guy, but he could still tell something was clearly wrong.
Phil hadn’t had the time to read the files. He had a small glimpse, and saw that Tommy had been in 8 homes before, and in all there was at least some abuse.
Tommy was a skittish animal, and from the looks of it, he was hurt badly, and doesn’t trust anyone. And coming straightforward, will only scare the animal away.
Phil just hoped that Wilbur and Techno would help him, instead of driving this kid away.
After all, they too, had their own fair share of unfairness in life.