Chapter Text
Waking up has got to be the worst thing ever invented in the history of ever. At least, according to Theseus ‘Tommy’ Inet, professional problem child and certified biggest man of all time.
He groans as he peels himself of what he can now see is a very dirty carpet, hissing at the overwhelmingly loud blaring of his alarm clock. Judging by his position as a heap of limbs on the floor and the sheer amount of drool covering the questions he was meant to finish for the maths class he is undoubtedly failing, he probably passed out last night while agitating Boob-boy for the answers. His friends had been single-handedly carrying him through most classes since highschool began and he couldn't thank them enough, though he would never dare admit that to their faces. His eyes are still blurry, which is most definitely a good thing, no doubt, it’s harder to see the mess that has become of his room in the past few weeks. He’s still rubbing the sleep away when he finally sees the impending doom of time-
“Shit.” Tommy is by no means prepared for it being 8:17 already. Fuck. How was he going to even begin to explain this to his mother- she was mad enough about the whole ‘getting detention for repeatedly calling someone a furry’ (though if you asked him, Fundy was the one that fucking started it), how would she react if he told her that he was late again? She had been making herself pretty scarce recently, either by hiding away in her office or scaring him away from the living room; but he imagined that could all change if he pissed her off to just the right extent. His existence pissed her off.
Even though that seemed a little unfair. He didn't ask for his parents to fuck each other and get a child neither of them actually wanted- or maybe they did want him at first, and he was just so fucking annoying that they were unable to love him anyway. Both seemed credible.
“Oh fuck. Fuck.” he curses to no one in particular, frantically yanking clothes off the floor to try and find the least filthy items. Keeping himself looking at the very least presentable had been a hard fucking challenge these days; everything seemed to smell like cigarettes, and the only things that didn’t were either so old they barely fit or torn up from some meaningless fight. Tommy had a knack for ruining everything, including his own clothes. Even though he tries to get dressed as fast as humanly possible, throwing on a seemingly random amount of layers despite the summer hear when he checks the clock again- 8:29. He is totally, completely fucked. More fucked than he had ever been before, including that time when he was caught trying to eat Tubbo's homework during a fight he had been having with his best friend.
He sprints downstairs, ignoring the mess of empty beer cans and unidentified mould, plucking his backpack off the floor where he had kicked it in frustration yesterday. The bag was on it's last legs- probably from the constant use of it as a football- but he didn't have the balls to admit to his parents that he needed more money to buy a new one. Within seconds, he sprinted out of the door, pausing only to slam it shut as hard as he possibly could, before taking off down the road like he was being chased by a particularly pissed off bear. Or one of those demon cats that hung out by Pogtopia square. Or that senior he accidentally made enemies with, older sibling of the furry. Or the- the list went on an on. Being a prick had gained him quite a few enemies. Another mark for lateness was the last thing he needed right now.
He crashes into his first period class just half a minute before it actually started, a red-faced mess that looked more like a blob of sweat than an actual person. The teacher barely even looks over while he collapses into his seat in the second to last row; between Tubbo and what could have been Ranboo's seat of they bothered at actually show up today (Tommy still couldn't believe that someone as goody-two-shoes as Ranboo was skipping).
“You look like shit.”
Tommy could barely restrain himself from smashing the other boy’s head through the wall. His best friend in the whole wide world- scratch that, the whole wide universe, Tubbo Underscore, had sadly not caught onto the idea of subtlety. However, he had mastered the 'oh im sweet and innocent and totally not a fucking arse' expression, when he gazed angelically at Tommy knowing full well he was the devil incarnate.
Although, Tubbo could never really be a devil. That was Tommy's job- Tubbo was the guy he never really deserved, could never repay for his thousands of ounces of kindness. Tubbo was the best friend anyone could ask for, even if he was a little bitch.
”Oh fuck you.” Tommy snarls at the other boy, teeth bared like a dog. He’d ran the whole way to school; a certainly high feat for a school as far away as Essempi High. The school was buried between two hills, one that lead to Greater Essempi and the other toward the general Manburg area- two areas that had been built in conflict, the kind that left ugly scars all over the barely recovering land. History lessons were full of battles and gore, and Mr. Skeppy getting a little to excited about re-enacting certain scenes.
“What?” Tubbo blinks up at him mischievously. “It’s the truth!”
In all fairness to the other boy, Tommy understood that he often looks like utter dogshit. He had barely just stopped panting from his run, covered in sweat with bags as dark as bruises under each eye. His appearance was as disheveled as always, no better than half of the kids at his school. He understood he looked like shit, but that would never stop him from arguing against Tubbo’s honesty- he would use any argument possible, including the 'its teenage dirtbag vibes Tubs, i expected you to know that'.
”Just because your brother can drive doesn’t-“ Tommy starts, ever-so-sneakily-as-to-not-disturb-the-teacher moving his chair to be closer to the other. The flimsy plastic screeches against the ground. Prime, curse the fact that nothing could be subtle when the school had made it their mission to buy the loudest furniture ever.
“I wouldn’t describe what Schlatt does as driving-“ Tubbo shuddered at the thought of his slightly deranged older brother behind the wheel. Tubbo's brother was often subject of many confused conversations, he was a specimen that could only be related to the most primitive of creatures- for one, no one knew his real name, for two, he seemed to have no sense of shame, for three; essentially anything you could possibly think was something that could be worked into the mysterious 'Schlatt's' personality. “It’s more like desperately attempting to get in a car accident.”
”At least he gives you a ride.” At this point, Tommy has already forgotten all his rage for the rude (but true) comments earlier. Grudges against Tubbo were never really his thing- unless it came to the boy blue-shelling him in mario kart, a time when he had been mad at the other for almost an entire hour. Look, it wasn't his fault that Tubbo was so clingy and needed his attention or he would cry, and it wasn't like he was completely dependant on his friend-
”He threatened to leave me in a box at the side of the road!” Tubbo exclaims. All of the ‘inside voice’ rules he learnt had gone flying out of the window, as they tended to do so when he got particularly excited, and the even the teacher stopped to look at him. Tommy couldn’t help but snicker at Tubbo’s lament, even though he'd heard the box argument so many times that he could probably rattle it off word-for-word without any mistake. Tubbo was a special kind of medicine for bad days- someone who could ease the aching in his chest, even if he was a tiny-teeny bit jealous of the fact that his brother cared about him in the weird and twisted way that Schlatt cared.
Tommy wishes that in some other universe, he might have had a brother too. A family like Tubbos, or Ranboobs, with a family who cared about him beyond the bare essentials of maintaining a child's life.
”I’m surprised he gave you a box.” Tommy barely restrains a scream of laughter at the betrayed look on Tubbo’s face. Tommy had suggested that he join a drama club once; though obviously, this was before he had learnt of what actually occurred in that infamous group.
”Wow. Just wow. My own best friend who I trust so much doesn’t think I’m WORTHY of a box!” Tubbo gasps dramatically, before beginning to choke on the severe amount of air he’d just inhaled. Tommy uses the predicament as an excuse to do the thing every good best friend would do- hit him on the back with some extreme force that is more about being a bitch than preventing death.
”Bitch I don’t even think you’re-“ Tommy hadn’t finished what absolutely would have been a scathingly good comeback, one that Tubbo without a doubt would have immediately tried to beat, when he was rudely interrupted by a shrill voice. They'd completely forgotten that the dragon woman that called herself a fucking teacher was still in the room.
”Tommy and Tubbo, do you have something you’d like to share with the class?”
There seemed to be only three things their physics teacher genuinely enjoyed, and all three were getting Tommy into deep shit. Tommy couldn't even remember what he had done to make her hate him, but he was sure it must have been something ridiculous, like his inability to complete homework or his tendency to run his mouth. Both boys’ heads snapped up to look at her smug face, and while Tommy liked to believe he was a world-class peddler of words, he wasn’t sure he would be able to bullshit himself out of this one.
”No?” Tubbo says nervously. Probably a good thing, Tommy wasn’t exactly known for his great etiquette- there were only about three teachers he could speak to without immediately ending up in detention, only about two students he could chat to without being beaten up.
"Have you got something to say, Theseus?"
”Tommy. Please call me Tommy.” Something in his stomach always turned at the name ‘Theseus’, a jolt of fear from a name only ever used in anger.
"Quiet."
"It's nothing, Miss-" Tubbo interrupts.
”Are you completely sure? You two seem to have a great amount to chat about- is my teaching interrupting your conversation?” She peers down at them like a vulture stalking it’s prey, her wrinkled flesh twisted into a faint smirk. Tubbo bit his lip, staring down at the table so he wouldn't burst out laughing when he caught sight of Tommy's expression.
”It is a bit, actually.” Tommy mumbles, not quite quiet enough for her not to hear. He wasn't sure what came over him in the moment, but the huge explosion of Tubbo's laughter definitely was not helping. Their chemistry teacher- Miss Peterson, that was her name- suddenly went scarlet, slamming her hand down on the desk in front of her. Tommy imagined that if this was a cartoon, she’d have smoke pouring out of her ears already. And probably tusks. And horns. Maybe a mint for her god-awful breath.
”Get out! Go to the principal, I’ve had enough of your constant need to irritate everyone!” She screams, unaware of how Tommy flinched at the volume. Tubbo is still giggling as she marches over to his desk, gripping Tommy's arm as she dragged him to the door. His classmates barely even look to see the most recent mess that Tommy had got himself into; the boy was a troublemaker, scoundrel, and they were no longer interested in his desperation for attention.
Tommy winced as her fingers dug into an old wound. Even though a visit to Miss Puffy's never actually turned out that badly when the principal had such a clear soft spot for him, he could only guess that his day would get worse from here.
The corridors were silent as Tommy slowly dragged himself to the principal’s office, pausing a few times to groan and bang his head against the rows of lockers. Ranboo would call him a drama queen if he was here right now- and he’d be totally right, as usual. Prick. He’d barely even knocked at the Principal’s door before she opened it, sighing at the sight of him.
”Tommy.” Puffy sighs and pretends to look cross, but he could always see right through her. He was one of her favourites- or so he claimed- growing on her like a particularly annoying rash, or like the kind of mould that had been stubbornly growing in his bathroom for years. “I thought we promised you’d be on your best behaviour?”
Tommy promises a lot of things. He promises he would be a good kid, he promises he wouldn’t fight anyone, he promises he’d eat and sleep and take care of himself. He can't help it sometimes, everyone worries, and he knows that they won't feel any better until he made some outlandish promise that he would never be able to fulfil. Tommy promised a lot of things but he rarely delivered them, so frequently ruining people’s expectations that it was a wonder they bothered at all.
“I didn’t do anything this time. You know how that bitch-“ Tommy’s voice was muffled from where he’d slumped in the chair opposite Miss Puffy, legs curled up to his chest. Maybe a while ago she would have given him a warning look to get his feet off her chairs, but those days were well behind them both. The chair was pretty much his now, he'd spent so much time in her office.
”Tommy-“ She starts, a warning tone that Tommy wouldn’t dare to cross in fear that he’d burst into tears if he made his favourite adult mad at him. Puffy's approval meant everything to his as if he was just a clingy fucking child, desperate for someone to care for him. “Her name is Miss Peterson.”
“You know what she’s like Miss Puffy. She hates me.”
”From recollection you haven’t always done much to help that, Tommy.” Puffy says quietly, and her eyes were so kind and gentle Tommy almost couldn’t bare the crawling sense of longing in his bones. Puffy was nice to him in a way that he couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt anything like it- she spoke to him with words so soft they would wrap around his mind as if it was fragile glass.
Tommy opens his mouth, and then closes it again. He didn’t dare tell her about the fingerprint bruises that he was sure were going to form on his arms, fearing more than anything that she wouldn’t believe him and he’d lose the only adult he could really trust.
”I did actually have something I wanted to talk to you about, Tommy.” Miss Puffy says and Tommy’s heart jumped in a way he didn’t know if he could describe. Had someone finally noticed the scars, the bruises, he terrible things that happened behind the white walls of his house? “It’s about your grades.”
”…oh.” Is all he can muster up to say. Stupid, Stupid fucking Tommy, and his need to get himself worked up over things that no one would care about. Of course it was his grades, he was a Failure with a capital F, destined to flunk anything and everything. Of course it was his grades again, he'd failed everything as usual and he was finally receiving some consequences for his chronic underachieving.
” Tommy. I’m not upset with you. I think I’ve found something that could really help.” Her eyes bore into his skull, the gentle from before suddenly overwhelmingly patronising, as if the kindness was a mocking lie for the foolish believer. “A few weeks ago, as part of our new school counsellor’s attempt to get our seniors to take more leadership roles, a few students set up a kind of ‘buddy system’ to tutor younger students of the school.”
Tommy wanted to laugh at the irony of it all. The seniors, famous for blowing up a science lab after a rivalry amongst two classes got out of hand, we’re going to lend their time to helping people. Ridiculous. He'd been beaten up by at least half of them, had arguments, and generally been a nuisance for so many years that he was surprised anyone would still want to help him.
“I think it would help you. I know you don’t have the best track record with teachers- maybe you’ll work better with students more like you?” Puffy smiles at him, making him feel more like a dumb loser than ever. He didn’t need her pity, he was Tommy Inet, strongest man ever, someone who never needed anyone or anything because he was- he was-
“Please Tommy. Just for one week, then you can decide whether you want to continue!” She sighs, and against all better judgement, Tommy couldn’t help but feel bad about how much trouble he’d put her through.
“Fine.” He grumbles. She wasn’t going to let this go, clearly. He would just have to pray that the seniors didn’t try kicking the teeth into his head in their usual terrifying manor.
”Okay!” Miss Puffy beams at him. “I’ll assign you a group- they’ll be the ones specifically helping you in each subject, you go to them if you have any problems- you can meet them tomorrow if you want!”
Tommy couldn’t think of one thing he would want less in the entire world than that.