Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Tommy couldn't have imagined this situation. On the ground, hair a mess, in a puddle of his own blood running from a gaping wound in his stomach. Only alive thanks to his miraculous healing powers. His best friends either unconscious or getting pretty damn close, and all three of them having unintentionally put their lives in the hands of L'Manberg's most wanted supervillains. The villains wanted them alive. And the heroes wanted them dead. Made him wonder what sort of upside-down reality he'd stumbled into.

Now, how exactly did this happen? Well, it started out as a day like any other. Tommy had the evening shift at work, as usual for a Thursday, and was serving his (hopefully) last customer for the day. An easy order, one of those drinks a million people buy to be 'unique' despite it being one of the most commonly ordered in cafés around the world. He finished his shift, chased out the last lingering customers, and started the familiar routine of cleaning up.

Wiping counters, clearing tables, sweeping and mopping the floors- nothing unusual. He even had time to tidy up the back room a little before leaving. He locked the doors as he left, stuffing the keys into his backpack as he started his walk home. Only for a fractured metal pipe to go flying past him, taking his backpack with it as it embedded itself into the concrete. It missed him by inches and made his fur stand on end.

He turned slowly, part of him hoping it was some superpowered weirdo looking for cash. It wasn't uncommon- in fact, it was expected, for random attacks to happen around Tommy's neighbourhood. Freaks and weirdos looking for an easy target wandering the streets of East End after sundown.

But no. Apparently, L'Manberg's most wanted supervillains, the Syndicate, had decided to make an appearance on the roof of his fuckin' café! Enrapture, The Blade, and Zephyrus, leaders of the most infamous villain team in the entirety of the city-state. Above them, hovering enshrouded in a faint green glow, was Dream. The hero ranked number one for his power and prowess. His actual power was telekinesis, showing itself in the aforementioned green light around whatever it was used on.

In this case, that was Dream's own clothes, and a number of cracked, rusty metal pipes from one of the alleyways nearby. Tommy flattened his ears and ran, snatching up his backpack as he went, thanking Prime it wasn't completely pinned to the road. He didn't get far before blinding pain struck his back. Millimetres from his spine and sending him toppling forwards and crashing to the pavement.

So, there he was. Bleeding profusely and never more grateful for his insanely active healing ability. He could feel his innards knitting themselves back together, held in place by a fractured web of slowly reforming muscle and flesh. He managed to roll onto his back, vision blurring from the waves of agony and discomfort rolling through him.

Blood that had already splattered across the concrete now formed a pool under his body as he flopped down, hitting his head regrettably hard. He heard his friends, Tubbo and Ranboo, arriving moments after. The mechanical tinge to their voices told him they were in costume- vigilantes Hive and Ender, and the repeated violet flashes in his periphery told him they were straight into the fray.

At least until Dream's teammates showed up. Memory and Flashfire, ranked second and third overall by the public. The only three S-tier heroes in the entire organisation. And apparently a trio of assholes who enjoyed beating up kids. Tubbo was sent flying backwards by one of them, by the wave of bleary amber light that followed, probably Flashfire, and a barrage of glowing pipes crashed into the ground around Tommy's head, pinning his shoulders down and making the fur on his tail spike up all over again.

He didn't think Dream hit him on purpose the first time, but there was no way that was an accident. Not like he could've gotten up anyway with the bloody hole in his fucking stomach.

He heard a voice somewhere in the muffled world, catching a glimpse of raven-black hair and pale freckled skin, and the flowing tail of a violet-lined trench coat rushing by. Enrapture, the blind siren, as she was also called. An homage of sorts to the black silk scarf tied over her eyes and that her power, in some way, allowed her to control people by speaking. Something like that anyway, Tommy had never really paid attention.

The villain was bent over him now, crouched at his side in the pool of his own blood, talking at him. Hands on his shoulders and shaking him awake. Tommy flattened his ears and hissed, then yelped as he was dropped. The villain moved shockingly fast, standing and kicking another metal tube away from Tommy's chest. She stood over him almost protectively, long black hair flowing in the kicked up breeze she'd made.

Tommy didn't dare move of his own accord. Staring up at the villain as another rusty pipe came flying towards him, only to be sent clattering loudly to the concrete by Enrapture's fist. She probably said something- it sounded like a question- but Tommy's mind was full of fog, and whatever was clear was occupied by worry. Ranboo was still out of sight, and Tubbo hadn't gotten up after being sent flying by Flashfire.

A rush of air passed over him as Zephyrus flew by on mighty black wings, redirecting yet another glowing green projectile as he made a rush for Tubbo. Tommy tried to crane his neck to find his friend, but only caught a glimpse of the villain's sleek black feathers before he had to go limp again.

Enrapture made a shout as a wave of amber light came rushing up, then faded instantly, followed by Flashfire cursing loudly and rounding on the villain again. She was sent backwards, falling onto Tommy before catching herself and standing upright on her hands, smiling cheekily at Tommy as she flipped over him and stood up again just beyond his head, shouting something that sounded snarky at the hero.

The response was a burst of golden flame Tommy had to close his eyes against, and that he felt the burning heat of terrifyingly close to his face. The blind siren went running off to his side, flipping over on her hands to avoid another fireball, then her feet, then her hands again, where she stood upside-down on one palm, using her free hand to pull at where her eye would be while sticking her tongue out at the hero.

Flashfire cussed at her again and launched forwards, only for Enrapture to hop neatly back to her feet and give an order as he got close. Tommy watched sideways as the hero went crashing into the ground and skidded across the concrete, wincing at how much that must've hurt. Enrapture came sprinting back over to him then, dropping to her knees at his side. She started talking, but the fog was getting thicker, and Tommy's vision was blurring.

There was a shout, and Tommy vaguely made out the shapes of two more people arriving to the scene, both in white and a pastel accent colour- red or blue. The one in blue raised an arm, and a wall of solid blue ice rocketed upwards from the ground. A jagged shadow fell over the road as Enrapture wiggled a hand under Tommy's back and knees. Then, suddenly, he wasn't on the floor anymore.

He was held in the surprisingly muscular arms of the city's most wanted supervillain. He was being carried, and somehow, he'd never felt safer. His body ached from being jostled as she started running. The two new arrivals- Frostbite and Heatwave, he now realized, were shooing the main members of the Syndicate away. Tommy caught sight of the Blade's long pink braid, and a lanky white-haired teen limp in his arms- Ranboo, either unconscious, or simply exhausted and sick from overuse of their powers.

Zephyrus was shouting something, but the way he was being carried made it impossible for Tommy to look over Enrapture's shoulder at him. He could assume the winged villain was carrying Tubbo, if Enrapture had him, and The Blade had Ranboo, and weirdly enough, he trusted the villains to keep the two safe.

His fuzzy brain told him to sleep. And so did the soft, metal-tinged voice of the woman carrying him. Tommy felt compelled to oblige, closing his eyes and letting himself pass out. His healing ability would keep him alive, and he was in no place to argue anyway. And so, Tommy slept, unsure of where- or if- he'd wake up again.

Chapter Text

Tommy opened his eyes again in a dim room. Not just dim, dark. Blackout curtains drawn, light out, door closed. A thin line of gold light was coming through the crack beneath the door, leaving the outlines of a few things- a dresser, desk, closer- barely visible in the persistent shadow. Tommy squinted, sitting up, only to hiss in pain and fall back down, wrapping his arms around his middle. 

He flopped back down onto the bed- bed? A bed. He was on a bed- in a bedroom- he supposed that made sense. He groaned, moving his arms from his middle to his head, folding them over his eyes. A dull, deep ache began spreading through his head, making his vision spin, and a wave of nausea washed over him. 

There was a soft click, and the room was suddenly brightened by light from outside. The door opened, and Tommy, not knowing where the fuck he was, ducked beneath the blanket in a half-assed attempt to hide. He closed his eyes and flattened his ears, the fur on his tail bristling outwards as he heard the door creak fully open, and footsteps enter the space, soft on the carpeted floor. 

Tommy felt a weight sink down on the edge of the bed, followed by a hand prodding him near the head. "Tommy?" Ranboo's voice came muffled from beyond the blanket, an air of amusement coming from them. "Tommy, are you there?" he hummed, a clear smile in his voice as he prodded the blond's side. "Tommy." he could hear the enderian purring.

"Where the fuck am I?" Tommy grumbled, barely poking his head out of the blanket, ears angled backwards. The room was much brighter with the open door, light pouring in from the hallway outside. Tommy glared at it, then at Ranboo, then ducked back under the covers.

"No idea. Some guy called Phil was in my room when I woke up. Said something about an alleyway and 'grievous injuries', and that him and his wife patched us up." Ranboo shrugged, being weirdly nonchalant about being kidnapped. The other teen was staring at the door, disregarding the second glare that Tommy gave him, throwing the blanket off of his head.

"The fuck you mean?" he demanded to know, sitting up and wincing at the pain that pulsed through his torso when he did. His injury had healed itself just fine, leaving behind a dull ache in his stomach and a patch of raw skin like a burn or graze on his front and back.

Ranboo just shrugged at his question, still largely ignoring him. They'd been kidnapped. The two- three, including Tubbo, had been kidnapped. And Ranboo didn't seem to care. Tommy lay back down, adjusting the pillows behind him so he could sit up a little, staring up at the ceiling. They'd been kidnapped. And, sure, they were alive, and Ranboo had a bandage on the side of their face where they'd been hurt, and Tommy was relatively okay, they were still kidnapped.

And- not only kidnapped- but the fucking top heroes had tried to kill them! The scar on his stomach was enough proof of that- and then the Syndicate- of all things- of all villains- it as the Syndicate heads- who saved them. Ludicrous. Insane. Nonsensical and unreasonable.

Ranboo shuffled into the bed itself- it was a king, and Tommy was lying right in the middle, so there was room. They shuffled up, using two other pillows as a backrest and sat next him, staring almost distantly at the opposite wall. Silence hung in the air after that. A comfortable silence that lingered so often in their own home. Tommy leaned into Ranboo's side, and Ranboo put a hand in his hair, twirling golden curls around their fingers.

A shadow fell over the light pouring in through the door, and Tubbo wandered into the room, barely awake, dark hair sticking out in all directions. He rounded the far side of the bed and climbed in, curling up against Tommy's other side, and Tommy put an arm around the shorter boy's shoulders.

Tommy sat up slightly at the quiet knock that came next. An old man, blond-haired and blue-eyed, stood in the doorway, balancing a tray of steaming mugs on one arm, the other raised against the open door. He shifted the tray to both hands and drifted over to the bed, hardly making a sound on the floor.

"From Techno." he smiled, speaking softly as he set the tray down on the nightstand. "An apology for earlier."

Ranboo smiled, helping steady the tray. "Thanks, Phil. Tell him it's fine." Ranboo replied, matching the stranger's quiet tone.

Tommy scowled. That was the guy that kidnapped them. He glared at 'Phil's' back as the man left, there was a massive diamond-shaped hole cut out of his dressing gown, and Tommy swore the man was covered in small black feathers.

"Wha's tha'?" Tubbo groaned, voice heavy with sleep. Phil closed the door as he left, and Ranboo turned on the lamp beside them.

"Hot chocolate." Ranboo hummed, purred, really, picking up one of the three mugs. Tommy had to push Tubbo off of him to sit up, shuffling back to lean against the headboard as Ranboo handed a cup to him.

Tubbo sat up as well, leaning over his legs to take a cup from Ran, then leant up against him, shoulder-to-shoulder with the raccoon hybrid. Tommy lay his tail over Tubbo's lap and sighed. He was tired. He was sore. He was confused. It didn't make any sense. None of it did- the top-ranked heroes of the city- the ones supposed to protect everything and everyone with their lives- had tried to murder him. Not just Tommy- but his friends as well.

Yes, vigilantism was illegal, but heroes didn't give a rat's ass about East End, and someone had to try and keep the rampant crime rates down. And it wasn't a warrant to fucking end their lives. Especially when Tommy hadn't even done anything. He was just trying to get home. he was tired after work and wanted to sit around and play on his phone or blast music into the early hours of morning and party with his friends- he didn't want to have a rusty metal pipe shot through his stomach!

There was no reason for that. And then the Syndicate of all people had to step in to save them. Tommy vaguely remembered being carried by Enrapture, being told to sleep, and passing out shortly after. He remembered seeing the Blade carrying Ranboo- recognising the lanky teen's stark white hair, and he could remember thinking Zephyrus had Tubbo, which seemed to be the case.

"Do either of you know how the hell we actually got here?" he asked aloud, trying and failing to keep his voice down.

"Not a clue, boss man." Tubbo answered groggily, sipping his hot chocolate. Tommy snorted at the moustache the foam had left him with.

"Yeah- n-no. Like I said, I just know what Phil told me." Ranboo stammered, still refusing to look directly at Tommy. He was being suspicious. He knew he was being suspicious. He remembered a lot more than he could tell them.

In truth, Ranboo hadn't actually passed out. He was weak and sick from using his power, and willing allowed the Blade to carry him off, too exhausted to protest properly. The Syndicate villains had fled through a maze of alleyways, led by Heatwave and Frostbite after the Dream Team were distracted. They were moving for what felt like hours, and Ranboo definitely passed out at some point, as they seemed to blink and suddenly be in South Bay. Which was a might disorienting, as Ranboo swore they were heading north through East End.

The Syndicate heads had left the three of them with Frostbite and Heatwave and disappeared out of sight, and Ranboo had drifted out of consciousness again. When they came back, Phil was there. He very clearly knew the pair of villains, talking to them and making very little fuss when the two started carrying Tubbo and Tommy towards his house.

Ranboo insisted on walking himself, leaning heavily on Phil to stay upright. A much younger man with long, pastel pink hair came running up right before they made it, shooing Phil away and helping Ranboo himself, saying something about them 'needing his help'. Ranboo thought Phil's help was fine enough, but he wasn't in a place to argue. A foggy haze had settled in his mind a while ago, moving on autopilot, hardly able to form cognitive thoughts. An unfortunate side effect of his power.

The two villains just waltzed right into Phil's house, carrying his two friends up a flight of stairs, and Ranboo almost ran after them, stopped by Techno insisting he still help them. Phil scolded Techno then for stopping him from going on his own, but Techno was right. Ranboo could hardly see straight, and thought he may pass out at any given second.

He was led up the first flight of stairs, out of what looked like endless to Ranboo's disoriented mind, then into a room with a large, soft bed where he promptly passed out. He had woken up hours later- almost thirty hours later- in the middle of the night to voices arguing outside the door. Techno and Phil locked in a heated whisper-shouted argument. Techno insisting the boy needed him to stay, Phil trying to get him to leave.

Ranboo had wandered over to the door and stopped them, and Phil sent Techno downstairs in a huff. The man had then apologised for waking him, then made up a story of finding the boys in an alleyway nearby and bringing them back to help. Ranboo, fully aware of the villains' involvement and considering the possibility of this seemingly innocent old man being involved with the most dangerous villains in Manberg, played along. Acted like he remembered none of it, which wasn't hard, and thanked Phil for the help.

And now he was lying again. Lying was easy enough, especially to strangers, but Tommy and Tubbo were his best friends, and that made it significantly harder. He was avoiding looking at either of them to try avoiding the truth. Sipping his hot chocolate and listening to the two of them argue. Tubbo was much more awake after the sugary drink, and he and Tommy had started a mock argument, playfully insulting one another and shoving back and forth on the bed.

It was amusing, but Ranboo didn't want to get shoved off, so he stood, stacking the empty mugs back on the tray, and decided to bring them downstairs. He balanced the tray easily on one hand, stepping out into the hallway, and made his way slowly downstairs, using the wall to counteract the spikes of dizziness that worsened with each step.

He stumbled through the doorway to the kitchen, ears ringing as a crash echoed around the room. He thought for a moment he'd fallen, but he hadn't hit the ground. Instead, he was caught by someone, leaning on their shoulder having dropped the tray and mugs. Techno helped him stand up again, and Ranboo apologised hastily for the now shattered cups.

Techno waved a hand nonchalantly, stepping around the broken porcelain to grab a brush from the wall. Ranboo stood awkwardly in the middle of their mess, leaning partially on the kitchen island and trying to regain their focus.

"Kid?" Techno tapped him on the shoulder. The broken dishes had been cleaned up already, and the man was stood awkwardly in front of him. "You- uhh, you hungry? We've got some pizzas in the fridge, or some snacks if-if that's too much- I heard your friends awake as well- and you've all been asleep for a long time, so I figured-"

"Pizza sounds good, thanks." Ranboo interrupted the rambling, smiling tiredly. He was truly exhausted, and really just wanted to sleep again, but food would also be good.

"Cool, yeah, sure. Drinks, or anything? We've got juice, I could bring up like a pitcher?" Techno asked, moving to the fridge around the other side of the room. Ranboo tracked him, humming yes to the drinks.

"Apple juice, if you have it. Water is also fine, no one's really fussy."

"Peperoni okay then? We've got one cheese, but they're only small."

"Yeah, that's fine. Tubbo and tommy can fight over the plain cheese."

Techno huffed what sounded like a laugh at that, tossing three six-inch pizzas onto the counter next to him. Ranboo confirmed again that everything was fine, then went back upstairs to wait for the food and drinks.

Chapter Text

Techno walked in one possibly the strangest thing he'd ever seen. Stranger than Dream killing kids. Stranger than Mum's fixation on the golden-haired child. Stranger than a literal child easily holding his own against Flashfire and Memory while avoiding the barrage of projectiles thrown at him from Dream. Three children, two of them recovering from severe injuries to the torso and head respectively, laughing and cursing at each other while locked in what could only be called WWE on a budget.

Techno stood dumbfounded in the doorway to the room, a tray of three small pizzas and glasses in one hand and a pitcher of apple juice in the other, staring at the trio of teens locked in combat with each other. He crossed the room slowly, aware of the sudden stillness at his appearance. Three pairs of eyes, blue, yellow and green, locked on his back and tracked him as he walked over to the bed, sitting the pitcher on the nightstand, and the tray of food and glasses on the bed itself.

Two of the kids immediately pounced like rabid dogs. Techno practically had to jump away to avoid getting caught in the crossfire. He backed up as Ranboo stepped in to separate the bickering teens, and Techno made a stealthy exit, closing the door without getting caught. He closed the door as the blond kid shouted something about biting someone, and immediately retreated to the other side of the hallway.

He could hear Ranboo telling 'Tommy' to shut up and eat his pizza, followed by only more yelling and arguing. Teenagers truly were terrifying creatures. he let out a breath he hadn't noticed he'd been holding, and turned to head upstairs to the third storey of their house. There were only two bedrooms on the third floor, one was his, the other belonged to his younger sister, Rosie.

The topmost floor had three rooms, two offices, and his parents' room, which made sense, it was their house. But Techno had complained a number of times, even as a child, newly adopted into the family, about sharing a floor with a child a decade younger than him. Unfortunately, Rosie was three at the time, and threw a tantrum about the second floor being bigger (it wasn't), so Techno was made to share a wall with her.

He dealt with it though, and ignored the loud make-believe games she played. Techno's room was, and had always been, perfectly pristine. There was a big rule about respecting each other's privacy, and Rosie had learned quickly Techno's resentment to having his belongings touched. His room was relatively bland in comparison to his sister's, the tidily made double bed, clear floor, organised shelves of figures and collectables of various fictional characters. His desk, laptop, even his writing supplies were all perfectly placed and completely dust-free.

He was half tempted to sit and start writing something, but it was getting near two in the morning, and his brain felt fried from staying up so long. Instead, he flopped face-down onto his bed, worming his way forwards until his head was on a pillow, and quickly passed out.

Tommy found himself in an odd situation at eight-thirty in the morning. Saturday mornings were usually quite late for the trio, so being woken up early was already out of the ordinary. Waking up tangled in Tubbo and Ranboo's limbs, however, was a nice piece of normalcy in a stranger's house. He'd (reluctantly) gotten out of the comfy king-size bed he and his friends were piled into, finding clothes that weren't his folded up with a note on top "for you, get showered" on the nightstand, along with clothes for Tubbo and Ranboo.

None of the clothes fit properly, but they were clean and comfy, so they would do just fine. Better than the clothes he had on previously, which had a gaping hole in the front and back from the encounter two days earlier. And then he was seated around a kitchen island with a family of complete strangers. He was seated on the opposite end to a tall, beautiful woman with long black hair and dark purplish eyes, and the old blond guy from last night- Phil, he thought was his name.

Tubbo sat on Tommy's right, Ranboo on his left. Next to Ranboo was a, frankly unreasonably, muscular young man with long, light pink hair pulled up into a messy bun, stubble on his chin and jaw, and square glasses. Pointed ears and small ivory tusks sticking up out of his lower lip. Opposite him, on Tubbo's other side, was a little girl with the same dark purplish eyes as the woman, and similarly wavy pink hair pulled into a set of pigtails, blond roots showing through at her parting.

A little family of four. And Tommy was just sat there. Sharing breakfast with them. Phil had made pancakes for all of them, and now seven people were crowded around the kitchen island on comfortable barstools, passing about flavoured syrups and bowls of fruit. The girl had a heap of raspberries and blueberries on a pile of whipped cream on her plate, Tubbo had seemingly copied her, adding chocolate syrup on top, then swirling golden syrup on top of that.

Ranboo was chattering excitedly with the pink-haired man while mindlessly swirling strawberry syrup on his pancakes. When Phil finally sat down, the black-haired woman kissed him on the cheek and stole a strawberry from his plate, and he leant over to whisper something to her. Tommy piled berries and syrup on his plate and started eating, trying to ignore the conversation around him.

Phil's kitchen was nearly spotless. The counters were slightly cluttered, but that was to be expected immediately cooking. The floors looked recently mopped, the counters free of dust, dirt and grime. The dishwasher was going in the background, the island they were eating off of was pristine save for the bits of dripped syrup and berry leaf left behind. The food even tasted cleaner that what he was used to- he didn't think that was even possible. It was delicious, and an added bonus to not be eating instant ramen for breakfast for once. He was so used to nothing or the bare minimum, actual food tasted damn near heavenly.

He'd never felt more out of place.

"Dentists must love you." Tommy's head snapped up at the remark. The girl was staring at him from her place around the table, one eyebrow raised in an almost judgmental way.

"Of course they do- everyone does." Tommy snapped back in confidence, striking his most arrogant pose. She just snorted and rolled her eyes.

"I find that hard to believe."

"Rosie, be nice." Phil interrupted, side-eyeing who Tommy now assumed was his daughter. Rosie just stuck her tongue out and returned to her pancakes.

"'Nice' isn't in her dictionary." the pink-haired man commented, angling the sharp end of his knife towards her.

"Sure it is- it would nice if you let me drive your car." Rosie smirked.

"Never gonna happen." pink-hair remained deadpan, staring at her across the table.

"Mum, Techno's being a dick."

"No, he's not, you're ten. You can't drive." the black-haired woman just sighed. She looked so fed up with her children.

Tommy watched back and forth as Techno and Rosie bickered. It was quite comical, a twenty-something-year-old arguing with an actual fourth-grader. He couldn't help laughing as Phil tried to quell the fight.

"Can I drive your car?" Tommy chimed in after several minutes. Techno glared at him.

"I'll get the keys!" Rosie chirped merrily, only for Phil to reach over and clip her around the head. 

"No, you will sit and eat your damn breakfast." he huffed, visibly exasperated by his two kids. Rosie and Tommy both burst out laughing, while Techno just glowered silently.

"You don't know how to drive." Ranboo muttered in Tommy's direction, and Tommy just shrugged.

"How hard could it be? One pedal go, one to stop- traffic lights are my God on the road, and don't be a dick." he shrugged, honestly just rambling. He had no idea how to drive. He thought he could learn, though.

"And don't touch the gearstick. Techno gets all pissy." Rosie added on, leaning over the counter towards her brother. Tommy had assumed they were siblings, given they both called Phil 'Dad'.

"Alternatively, don't touch my car at all." Techno leaned right back, baring his teeth like an enraged animal. Rosie giggled and sat up again, kicking her legs delightedly. Techno huffed and sat up, and Tommy chuckled as well.

The bickering petered out after that, silence settled neatly across the family and their guests. Tommy felt slightly less out of place, but he didn't belong here. He shouldn't be there. Ranboo started talking with Techno about some TV show they both watched. Rosie asked Tubbo about his watch- a smartwatch of his own design that let him hack into any security camera network aside from the hero tower interior. And play Snake. Rosie was far more interested in playing Snake on the watch.

Phil and his wife (he assumed she was his wife) were sharing quiet conversation between themselves at the opposite end of the table, and that just left Tommy. He picked at his pancakes, appetite gone, and listened to the talk around him. He noticed slowly that each other person seated had finished. Phil first, then his wife, who he'd learned was called Kristin through listening to them talk. Then Techno set his knife and fork criss-crossed neatly on his empty plate, and Ranboo stopped with a third of a pancake left, handing it to Tubbo, who was eager to accept.

Any other day, he might have been bickering and bantering with his friends. Or making jokes and firing verbal shots at anyone who dared to step to him. But instead, he was just quiet. He was tired. His head still hurt, and his stomach was aching, and he was nauseous and miserable. And in a complete stranger's house. A stranger that kidnapped him and his friends. Remind him why they were being friendly to them?

Whatever was the case, he didn't ask. He stayed quiet, listening to conversation. Until Tubbo smacked his arm and made some comment he barely registered. He just knew that snarky tone and smug grin. He immediately jumped to insult Tubbo back. And thus, the two of them got into a playful argument as they so often did. Rosie joined in on Tubbo's side, and Techno, surprisingly, went to defend Tommy, his voice perfectly deadpan in its delivery.

Ranboo was caught in the crossfire, and when they tried to stop the mock argument, all four of them chorused "Shut it!" and returned at once to their own points. He was laughing and grinning, turned on Techno, then decided it was every man for himself and turned on everyone. The kitchen island was all laughter and jokes within twenty minutes of Tommy actually speaking, and all thoughts of alienation were forgotten.

Phil finally put an end to it, shooing the younger four children out of the kitchen. techno stayed and, almost automatically, started stacking plates and cutlery together. Kristin pushed the four of them out and into the living room just next door, through an open archway and away from her husband and son. Ranboo tried to go back to help tidy up, but Kristin assured that Phil and Techno had it handled.

The living room was a long, bright space- half of the back wall was windows, a glass door leading out into a long back garden, letting sunlight pour in. An L-shaped couch took up most of the space, set around a hard wooden coffee table and facing a massive TV mounted on the wall above a faux-fireplace and mantle.  A recliner squared in the space, where Kristin sat and picked up an open book from the arm to continue reading. Tubbo rounded the opposite end of the sofa, practically throwing himself onto it face-down with a relaxed sigh as the cushions sank under him.

Ranboo went and sat next to him, picking up the TV remote from the table as he did. The Tv was turned on, and Ranboo started flipping through channels for something interesting. Tommy rounded the opposite end of the sofa to his friends, standing for a moment before flopping back. He jumped up again not a second later, shocked at how easily the cushions sank beneath his weight.

Kristin looked up from her book for a moment, concern slightly creasing her brow. "You okay?"

"Yeah- yep, fine." Tommy felt himself burn in embarrassment, sitting again, sinking down into the sofa like it was liquid. It wasn't, but it was impossibly soft. Tubbo came rushing over to him across the sofa, crawling like a gremlin to reach him and sitting right against his side with a satisfied huff.

Ranboo came to join them both as well, lounging out across the rest of the seats while still searching for an interesting channel. He stopped on a new broadcast. Recounting events from the night before, the video under the narration showing Frostbite on a street somewhere in West Side. Dancing around as shards of blue crystal jutted up out of the ground in a trail after her feet.

She was laughing, flipping the bird at a hero just off-screen. The camera panned, and there was Shatter- the highest ranked A-tier hero in the city-state. Pale frost clung to one sleeve of his white jacket, blood staining the top of the hood and matted into his dirty blond hair. he shouted something not picked up by the news crew and charged. Frostbite charged right back, mist gathering around one arm.

Both hero and villain skidded to a stop and set a wall of blue towards the other- jagged blue ice, and reflective blue crystals. Solid, jagged walls raised from the concrete- tearing up the road and causing the streetlights to spark, bend and flicker out. Dust and white mist obscured the view for several seconds before a shape went darting away. Frostbite, her pink space buns falling out and whitened across the right side by frost and ice.

She had a hand up to her face, holding her mask in place as she retreated backwards. Her other hand, her right hand, hung limply at her side, the sleeve torn away and the skin bloodied. Ranboo had sat up partially now. Tubbo was clinging a throw pillow and Tommy had leant forwards to watch.

The dust and mist cleared. Shatter was alive. Stood on the opposite side of the ice wall, left hand pressed against it, not moving. And when the camera zoomed in, it showed blood soaked into his right shoulder. The hero's entire arm was encased in blue ice, now red from blood that seeped into it seconds before freezing completely.

Shatter's apprentice, Astro, came running up from who-knows-where, and Frostbite turned and went sprinting off up the road. Astro abandoned his mentor seconds later, running to catch up, violet lights flashing in his hands, forming solid discs that he threw towards the escaping Syndicate villain.

A rush of deep blue flame cut the attack short, and Heatwave appeared from seemingly nowhere, hovering just above the ground, blue and red flame encasing his boots and hands. The three boys cheered at his appearance, Tubbo actually throwing his pillow over his head and into Phil, who had just walked into the room.

Heatwave shouted something inaudible at the hero-in-training, then launched forwards. Astro startled, spinning his arms and summoning a violet shield in the shape of a star in front of himself. Heatwave slammed into it shoulder-first, a burst of red fire exploding outwards, shattering the shield and knocking the young blond backwards and onto the ground.

A refractive blue crystal shot up out of the ground not three seconds after, sheltering the apprentice, and the camera momentarily panned back to Shatter, now free of the ice and holding his mangled, bloodied arm. The heroes were forced to retreat as the villains escaped, flipping them both off as they went, sprinting down the road.

"Fuck yeah! That was sick!" Tubbo grinned manically, leaning back and kicking his legs excitedly. "You get 'is ass, Frosty!"

"Shoulda killed 'em both." Ranboo shrugged, flipping channels again.

"Not a fan of heroes?" Rosie piped up from the far end of the sofa, giving the three of them a look.

"Some of 'em." Tommy shrugged. "Most are cunts."

Kristin gave him a look for the curse word, then sighed. She shot a look up at Phil, then returned to her book.

"Honestly, some villains are better than heroes." Tubbo shrugged, getting nods of agreement from his friends.

Phil and Kristin shared another look, and smile creeping up onto the former's face as he dropped Tubbo's pillow back to him, and exited the living room.

Chapter Text

Tommy missed home. Well, no, he didn't. He would never miss the shithole apartment he and his friends shared. Having to shower with frigid cold water if they wanted clean dishes, never having enough food, the roaches in the bathroom and a broken mattress on the floor the three of them had to share. He truthfully didn't mind that part, but the rest was utter shit.

Phil's house was massive, especially when compared to the apartment. It was clean, and the heating actually worked. And he didn't have to wait to shower if someone else was, and Phil had actually good shampoo, not the cheap shit bought for hotels. Usually stolen from hotels. There was a guaranteed three meals a day, and not one of them was cheap microwaved ramen or half-stale cereal. Unless that's what he wanted, Phil said, but he didn't. He never did.

But he missed the simplicity of it. Knowing what he'd be doing any given day. He had called out of work sick two days in a row, and thanked Prime that Puffy was the amazing boss she was. But he missed work, as strange as it felt to admit. He missed the routine of it all. Waking up, cleaning what he could, heading out with Ranboo to the nearest subway station where the taller teen would separate and head to the Central City for work by train.

Tommy walked everyday to and from work. Not because he wanted to, but because he didn't have a car, nor did he have a licence to operate one. And he did like the daily exercise. Even when it was winter and the sun was down by the time he was closing up. Walking home in the dark in West Side was asking to get mugged, assaulted or kidnapped. Tommy was lucky in the two years he'd worked for Puffy that the worst he'd experienced was losing his tips.

Ranboo worked at a diner on the road between the East and Central districts of the city, though only part-time. Tommy had met his boss once, a man named Bad, at least that's what he went by. He was terrifying to look at, constant and entirely shrouded in inky black shadows and smoke, with curling demonic horns and glowing white eyes, but he was probably the nicest person Tommy had ever had the pleasure of meeting.

Bad helped the trio out with bills, rent and groceries on occasion. Ranboo claimed they were given a raise "just because", though Tubbo had called it pity money. None of them had admitted they needed it. Tommy appreciated the help, though he couldn't help but agree with Tubbo. It felt like pity.

They'd stayed with Phil for three days before having to go home. Not because of Phil, or his family. In fact, they were actively against sending the teens away. But Tubbo had projects he wanted to work on at their apartment. And Tommy couldn't keep calling out sick to work. And Ranboo admitted to missing his co-workers, though they had a very flexible schedule compared to Tommy, so calling out hadn't been an issue.

Tommy had showered one final time in the fully functional shower before leaving. Kristin had taken the liberty of fixing his backpack for him, though his shirt was beyond saving with a hole straight through it, so he borrowed one of Techno's. Rosie gave each of them a hand-made paper ring and made them swear they'd visit her and play tag again (that was a fun day), and Techno drove them home.

"Ah, home sweet junkyard." Ranboo chuckled as they walked through the front door.  They stretched their arms up, then placed his hands on his hips and paused in the entryway.

"Welcome, welcome, hello, roaches." Tubbo added on in an almost sing-song way, getting a look from Techno. Tommy snickered and followed his friends into the room.

The apartment was set up like a row of three rooms. There was a small alcove around the front door, paint peeling and hinges rusted, then the floor open up into the living room/kitchen combo. A waist-height counter separated the spaces, that and the transition between half-rotted wood and cracked, stained tiles on the floor. A single, rickety, hole-filled sofa sat in the middle of the space, with an armchair with several holes in it, and a twenty-four inch TV sat on a coffee table covered in grime and stains.

Clothes were piled up on the floor and furniture, old dishes and fast food wrappers going mouldy. And a rat went skittering across the floor when the four of them entered. The lefthand wall had a door that didn't close properly that led into the only bedroom in the apartment, equally as vile. And the bathroom door was directly opposite, on the right wall. The living room/kitchen was hardly big enough for all four of them to stand comfortably with the furniture in there, which was probably why Techno stayed in the doorway.

Ranboo circled around and flopped onto the armchair, kicking their legs up over the arm and sitting sideways, while Tubbo started digging through the dirty clothes looking for his laptop, the only piece of technology in the apartment that functioned fully and correctly.

"Well, thanks for the lift, big man, but we're good now." Tommy leant on the back of the sofa, smiling at Techno as he spoke. Techno was looking around still, mouth pressed into a line and brows creased. "You can go, it's chill."

"You actually live like this?" the pigman asked suddenly, glasses flashing slightly as he whipped his head up to stare.

"Yeah? We're teenagers working for minimum wage, what'd you expect?"

Techno just frowned, then shook his head. "Right. You've got our numbers, so if you need anything, text or call me or my parents." he huffed. Tommy nodded, waving as the man turned and left, closing the door a little roughly.

From there, it was back to normal. For a while, anyway.

Tommy woke up early the next morning, tangled in Ranboo's limbs and with Tubbo hugging his tail. He woke them both getting up, picking out the least filthy clothes from what was his, and reminding Tubbo to take what he could to the laundromat a block away to wash. It was stale cereal and orange juice for breakfast, then he was out of the house before the sun had fully risen, shivering in his jacket against the autumn dawn's chill.

He'd missed nearly a week of work already, being unconscious for an entire day, then at Phil's for another three. And then his first shift back was the opening shift on a Tuesday- aka, second Monday. He hurried along the roads as much as he could, fluffing his tail and spinal fur to try and warm up, and flattening his ears into his hair to keep them from freezing off. The café came into view after thirty minutes of half-hurried walking.

There was already a customer outside. A lanky man, with short, dark brown hair and blue eyes underlined in heavy bags. Tommy could almost understand why he'd be looking for coffee at eight-thirty in the morning.

"Oi, we're not open for another thirty minutes, asshole!" Tommy called out as he approached. The man whipped his head around to watch him. His other eye was brown, but just as tired.

"Yeah, I know. I'm waiting." he shrugged. Tommy glared at him for several seconds as he fumbled for the key in the bottom of his backpack, unlocking the doors and slipping inside. He locked them again when he did, then turned and marched for the staffroom door behind the counter.

"Oi, dickhead, get your ass here." he spoke out loud as he typed out a message to his co-worker on the open shift. 

Foolish wouldn't be late, he never was, but Tommy was impatient, and when he arrived early to clean and prep, he expected his co-worker to do the same. He got a response back just seconds after-

'am outside be two mins'

He sighed and put his phone away, hung up his jacket and grabbed an apron off the hooks, tying it on as he walked out into the café. He saw foolish walking up outside, but no sign of the waiting customer, so he unlocked the front doors and started the usual morning prep work.

The two of them worked in silence for most of the morning. When customers started rolling in, Tommy took orders, made drinks and talked shit about the dumbasses who thought they knew better with Foolish and their other co-worker, Alyssa, who showed up everyday at exactly two minutes before nine, avoiding prep, but never late. Tommy almost resented that, but he couldn't be mad at a woman for being damn clever.

Prep was his favourite part of the morning shift anyway, entirely because he didn't have to deal with people, so not having her around was fine by him. The day went by as it usually did. Taking orders, serving drinks, cleaning when he had a minute. They started serving pastries and cakes at eleven, two hours into the shift, when the rushes began to pick up. They had to open the second register thirty minutes later, and the amount of Karens that showed up jumped exponentially.

He revelled in the joy of making decaf drinks for the assholes who suddenly forgot how to be decent humans, and the three of them started a tally board for who would get the most difficult customers before shift change at two. Foolish won on account of being as petty as possible, and thus was allowed the last donut in the staffroom, and Tommy headed home with coffee in hand for Tubbo and a cupcake for himself.

He had morning shift again on Wednesday, and it went mostly the same way. Different customers, different orders, different donuts in the staffroom. Then Thursday arrived. He woke up after Tubbo on Thursday, still being hugged by Ranboo, but with a notable absence on his other side.

He could hear Tubbo talking to someone in the living room, and the sounds of cleaning getting done, which was strange. Tubbo had never, not once, taken the initiative to clean up the apartment on his own. He had to be reminded at least seven times to take his clothes to the laundromat on Saturdays when they all went, and he was usually too wrapped up in his projects to even notice the mess around him.

He heard another voice in response to something Tubbo said and sat up. The mattress springs creaked and popped horribly with the movement, and the conversation silenced. Ranboo snorted as they were woken by the noise as well, sitting up beside Tommy and squinting at him, confused.

"Kristin's here. She brought food." Tubbo's voice came after a minute, calling to the pair of them from the living room. Ranboo muttered some nonsense under their breath and flopped back down, asleep in seconds, and Tommy shuffled to the end of the mattress to stand up.

Peering into the living room indeed revealed Kristin and Tubbo, packing old food, wrappers and scraps into black bags to throw out. Kristin had her hair up and was wearing a pair of old paint-stained black overalls over a lilac jumper and heavy boots. "Morning, food's just there." she smiled and waved at Tommy, pointing at a plastic bag on the counter containing glass Tupperware containers.

A perfectly clear path from the bedroom to the kitchen counters had been cleaned already- most of the apartment floor was actually visible for once, though the water-damaged, rotting and mouldy floorboards didn't look much better. The Tupperware contained portions of some pasta dish, steam still gathered on the inside of the lids.

He took one, found a semi-clean fork, and sat on the sofa to eat.

His afternoon shift at work was, thankfully, uneventful, and when Friday rolled around, he woke up to find Phill in their apartment instead. He'd brought his own frying pan from home, and the ingredients and toppings for pancakes, and was making a stack of them while Tubbo was asleep and Ranboo, who'd woken up earlier than the others, showered.

On Saturday, the one day of the week all three of them were home, they were woken by a knock at the door around midday. Tubbo went to answer, and Tommy almost fell back asleep, until he heard Techno's low voice rumbling through the apartment, and the far, far louder voice of a rowdy ten-year-old girl.

Techno took the trio and Rosie out for lunch at a diner in Central City, then to a park to run off the energy they got from dessert. Phil came and picked him up from work on Sunday, Ranboo and Tubbo already in the car, and again, they were taken out for lunch.

On Monday, Tommy had the afternoon shift again. He woke up half expecting one of Phil's family members to be in the apartment again. But no, it was just Tubbo. Sat on the sofa, working out some coding on his laptop. Kristin had given them a few boxes of food for breakfast or dinner, so he picked one and joined Tubbo on the sofa to enjoy it.

Ranboo woke up shortly after he did, not stopping to grab breakfast or even say good morning before darting swiftly out of the apartment. Ranboo didn't work weekends, so Prime only knew where they were going, but Tommy had to get dressed and start his walk to work, so he didn't question it.

The closing shift ended at nine each night, and in the early autumn, that meant it was already partially dark by the time Tommy was on his cleaning routine. He mopped, wiped the counters, fixed one of the espresso machines which had decided to kill itself half way through the afternoon, then locked the door and was about to start on his walk home when a car horn startled him from across the street.

"Get in, loser!" Tubbo was leaning halfway out the window of a family SUV that belonged to Phil, grinning wildly. Tommy snorted, sprinting across the street and pulling open the door.

Rosie sat on Tubbo's other side in a booster seat, kicking her legs and bouncing in place excitedly. Ranboo and Techno were in the back two seats playing Go Fish, and Kristin sat on the passenger side in the front, smiling in the rear-view at the group of them.

Phil was driving, pulling away from the curb as soon as Tommy was buckled in.

"Where are we going?" Tubbo asked, far too loud in Tommy's ear. Phil chuckled, then shrugged.

"You'll find out." he smiled, leaving it at that. Tubbo pouted, slouching down in his seat, then sitting up and taking out his phone. Rosie leant over to watch Tubbo playing Snake, and Tommy watched out the window as the city rolled by, wondering quietly, just how long this new normal would last.

Chapter Text

Two months, apparently.

It wasn't everyday, but more often than not, Tommy would wake up or come home to either Kristin or Phil in the apartment, cleaning up with one or both of his friends, or making something that smelled delicious. Techno showed up every now and then as well, bringing home-cooked meals from one or both of his parents, groceries to keep the boys stocked for other meals, and the bundle of chaos that was his little sister.

The rest of his life went on as usual. Almost to the point where he forgot what had happened that day. Until he was reminded. Techno and Tubbo had worked together to get some of their appliances more functional, including the fridge, microwave, stove, and TV. Tommy sat on one end of the Sofa, lounging and scrolling through his profile on Phil's Netflix account. Ranboo was sideways in the chair fussing over the small black kitten they'd brought home last month.

"She followed me, I didn't bring her!" Ranboo had claimed, but Tommy saw the look in his eye. He'd named the kitten Enderchest, like the Minecraft block, for some unknown reason, and she'd just been living with them since.

Tubbo was sat at the other end of the sofa, hunched over his laptop and fidgeting with a miniscule bee-shaped drone he'd been working on for a few weeks now. Tommy was bored out of his mind, trying to find wherever Avatar: The Last Airbender was. He found it, sitting up slightly as he put on the first episode.

Tubbo glanced up as the opening monologue began, and Ranboo finally looked away from his cat. All three of them startled as the screen blinked out to black. The screen came on to a filtered image through an old shutter camera. The still image of some D-class villain Tommy vaguely recognised. Pinned up to a wall in an alleyway, beaten beyond the point of recognition. Four, rusty, bloodied pipes embedded through their arms and legs, pinning them up as though crucified.

A faint green glow came into frame from behind the camera. Dream. Through the filter, the hero spoke, though no words made it past the shit video quality. The screen cut out at the sound of squelching and a choked cry. Coming back with a fifth pipe through the villain's stomach, still glowing faintly green.

The screen returned to Avatar, paused where it had turned off. All three boys stared at the screen in shocked silence. Tommy felt sick, a phantom of pain shooting through his midsection. Ranboo looked visibly ill from the sight, lifting Enderchest closer to his face to try and hide. Tubbo had a look between disgust and rage on his face, glaring at the TV with clenched fists and narrowed eyes.

All three of them were startled by a knock on the door, and Tommy stood to go answer, tripping slightly in his rush. Phil was stood patiently outside, smiling as he opened the door. "Morning, mate, hope I didn't wake you." he smiled, and Tommy's upset suddenly melted away.

"Nah, we've been up for a while." he shrugged, offering for Phil to come in. It was early Saturday morning. Neither Tommy nor Ranboo had work, so it was odd that they'd all woken up so early.

Phil wandered in, a slight frown twitching across his face as he saw the decay of the apartment. He had seen it a number of times before, but it never got any better to know these kids were living in such awful conditions.

"Hi, Phil!" Tubbo grinned, leaning over the back of the sofa and beaming at him. Ranboo was across the armchair, focussed entirely on the small black kitten he'd adopted a while ago.

"'Ello, good morning." Phil chuckled a little. Tommy closed the door behind him, then slung himself over the man's shoulders, almost making him fall, balanced on his cane. "How'd you boys like to go shopping? Anything you like, you can have." he offered, and Tubbo was up off the sofa in an instant.

"Uh, sure, yeah. Gotta get dressed- make a phone call." Ranboo sat up as well, picking up his cat and putting it on his shoulders and they headed for the bedroom after Tubbo.

Twenty minutes later, all three boys were dressed and ready to head out. It was getting towards the end of November now, and seeing the boys still wearing such light clothing was worrying. There had been several mornings lately that saw frost on the ground, and it was only getting colder.

It was Kristin's idea, really. Taking them out shopping for a few things. A distraction while Kristin finalised a few things for an early Christmas gift for the three of them. Tommy sat in the passenger seat of the SUV, and Ranboo climbed over into the back, while Tubbo sat in the middle. Phil sighed and hopped up into the driver's side, sitting his cane in Tommy's footwell and double-checking everyone was buckled in before pulling away from the curb.

Central City was the smallest of L'Manberg's districts, the crossroads for the other four. It was also the richest, culture-wise. And financially. The City Hall was located here, as well as the Manberg Museum of History, the Grand Gallery, the single largest nature reserve/park in the entire city, and the Hero Headquarters, among other things.

It was also the location of the Trinity Malls, a set of three all centred around different things- food, practicality, and entertainment. That was where Phil brought the three of them. Pulling into the parking lots as the boys pressed their faces to the windows and stared. He could imagine none of them could ever afford this place on their own. The Trinity had some of the highest quality items in the city, and for the quality, the prices were reasonable. For anyone living anywhere but the south half of West Side or South Bay, it was entirely out of the question.

Phil took them to the practical mall first, for clothes, mostly, though Tubbo managed to get his hands on a number of mechanical devices Tommy couldn't begin to work out. They spent hours between different stores, trying on shirts and jeans and jackets. Tommy's favourite thing was a sky blue cardigan with cornflowers embroidered onto it. Ranboo spent a solid forty minutes trying on dresses and skirts in a single shop, then another thirty minutes in a different one poring over their options.

Tubbo wasn't at all interested in the clothes, though he had Phil buy him more than a few t-shirts, and a dark olive-coloured bomber jacket with a fur-lined collar that he refused to take off once it was bought. They dropped off the bags in the car before heading for lunch, Tommy loudly whining the entire way across the parking lot that he was starving. It took all of Phil's strength not to smack the boy upside the head.

"Stop being so slooowwwww- hurry uup! I'm gonna staaarve!"

Tubbo took the liberty of smacking the blond for Phil instead. The food mall's first floor was a large selection of bakeries, sweet shops and coffee houses that made the entire area smell of fresh cakes and candy. Phil had to drag Tommy by the collar of his shirt to stop him from beelining directly for the nearest bakery, pulling him onto the escalators and taking all three boys upstairs.

Then Ranboo wandered off, heading for a pizza place nearby. Tubbo was the one to drag them back, pulling them easily like a ragdoll back to where Phil was waiting. He gave the two some cash, then watched them leave to find their own lunches. He didn't trust Tommy not to spend any allowance given on sweets.

Tommy decided on a fried chicken place, and Phil joined him, not all that fussed about what he had for lunch. He listened as Tommy went on about something that had happened at his job- he was slightly upset that the teen even needed a job. He should really be in school, not paying his own bills.

He would happily admit it, he'd grown to care for the boys greatly. Almost as much as his own children, perhaps just as much. They were loud and obnoxious and bratty as any teenagers were, but he adored them. It was endearing. Tubbo showing off his latest project and asking Techno's opinion on the mechanics of it. Ranboo often helped in the kitchen whenever he was cooking, fascinated by the processes and asking constant questions.

And Tommy's endless energy. The uncanny ability to talk about one subject for forty minutes straight, then switch on a dime when something new was brought up. Phil was a fan of listening, and he truthfully enjoyed the stories Tommy told. Usually about entitled customers, sometimes about his co-workers, or a dream he had- whatever it was, he'd go on forever in uninterrupted.

Unfortunately, he was interrupted. Phil's phone started ringing halfway through Tommy's sentence, and he saw Kristin's name on the screen. "Sorry, Toms, I need to take this." he excused himself, standing and wandering away, leaving Tommy glaring at his back. "Hello, dear." he picked up just outside of Tommy's hearing.

"You don't usually take so long to pick up, is everything okay?" Kristin's voice rang sweet as a bell from the other end of the call, and Phil smiled, chuckling a little.

"Sorry, Tommy and I were getting lunch, had to step away." he heard her sigh a little on the other end, then Rosie saying something muffled in the background. "It's fine, I have time to talk." he assured her, knowing she'd hang up if he was eating.

"Sorry to interrupt your lunch, hon. Everything's set up here, if you can bring the boys around once you're done shopping." he smiled again at that, nodding though he knew she couldn't see him.

"Alright, we might be a while- I'll be as quick as I can." he nodded again, entirely to himself.

"Alright, love you, angel." his feathers definitely fluffed up at that, his face turning slightly red as he returned the affection and said goodbye.

Taking a moment to calm down, and ensure his wings were still hidden, he returned to where Tommy was finishing his food. Ranboo and Tubbo were waiting by the escalators, deep in debate about pizza toppings, when they wandered over, and Tommy promptly inserted himself with the blasphemous claim that pineapple belonged on pizza, causing both to turn on him.

Phil just chuckled, shaking his head a little as he ushered them onto the escalator to go down. They stopped in a candy shop just before leaving, each of the boys mixing a pick'n'mix each, and Phil grabbing a bag of Rosie's favourite sour gummies so she wouldn't feel left out before they exited the food-focussed mall and crossed the parking lot again.

The final stop was the recreation mall, a focus on toys, games, electronics, and harbouring within the third-largest arcade in L'Manberg. Tommy tried to hop the fence that surrounded the games, stopped by Tubbo unceremoniously dragging him by the collar into a game shop Ranboo had wandered into. Phil followed at his own pace, faintly amused by their antics. He could hear them arguing about something or other before even entering the store, and when he did, he caw it was over which colour of Nintendo Switch Ranboo should get.

Ranboo settled on purple, and Tubbo got a standard one as well, probably to take apart, but that wasn't any of Phil's business. He bought the devices, a case for Ranboo's, and a few games for them to share, then followed as the trio went wandering, looking for whichever store was next. They didn't ultimately buy much, largely window shopping. Phil had a feeling the boys may have felt guilty for spending so much on the Switches and games.

Tubbo dragged them all into a shop full of hero merchandise where they spent thirty minutes laughing at how ridiculous and vain the heroes featured were. Tommy purposefully dropped and stepped on a dog Dream plush, then hastily dusted it off and put if back when Phil pointed put that he'd probably have to buy anything he broke.

Tubbo wound up with a Warden pencil case, shocked that they'd still sell his merch after the whole scandal last year- the Warden betraying his own teammates and nearly killing one of them. Phil couldn't help but cringe at the mention, he knew Warden, he knew the full story wasn't as cut and dry as the media made it seem. But it was the media's job to make the current heroes look good, and anyone who went against them look like the worst people alive. He despised the picture painted, his friend a monster, and the bastards who turned against him saviours- "survivors" and "victims" despite causing the conflict in the first place.

He stayed quiet about the whole situation, it wasn't his place to speak on it, and paid for what the kids had picked out. Ranboo picked up a black cat plush dressed up like Memory, very quickly ripping off the hero attire as they left the shop and dumping it in the nearest bin. The final stop was a small toy store by the entrance, each shelf stocked to the nines with fluffy plush animals, baskets underneath with clothes and accessories for the toys to wear in a variety of sizes.

Tommy tried to act serious, too 'grown up' for the plush store, crossing his arms and scowling as he perused the aisles, but Phil saw his hardened expression melt at the sight of a fluffy white and brown cow. He almost thought the boy would cry as he picked up the toy so very carefully, cradling it in his hands as his tail fluffed up in delight. Tubbo had a very similar reaction to a fat little bee he found, audibly gasping when he picked it up.

Phil paid without a word, though he did cast a glance at the round axolotl Ranboo placed on the counter.

"It's cute." they shrugged, and Phil had to agree.

"His name is Henry." Tommy declared proudly, holding the cow atop his head. He was small and fluffy and stupidly cute, he had to give him a good name, and Henry seemed perfect. Such a perfect name. Tubbo looked at him like he was stupid, then sighed and shook his head, closing the boot of Phil's car.

"She's a girl. Cows that look like that are girls." the brunette stated, putting his free hand on his hip. His other hand was curled around a fat little bee that was almost as fluffy as Henry.

"That's not true, actually." Ranboo piped up, leaning backwards around the side of the car. Phil had wandered off somewhere, leaving the three of them to load their bags into the car and wait. Tubbo turned and glared at the lanky teen. Ranboo just shrugged, popping a gummy cola bottle in their mouth and standing up straight again.

"When, there you go, Henry's a boy. He's a man, a manly man, just like me." Tommy declared, balancing the toy between his ears.

"Which one? A manly man or like you?" Tubbo quipped, cackling and running as Tommy tried to hit him, letting out an indignant "Oi!" as he gave chase.

Phil returned from the food stand with a bag of sugar-coated donut holes to see Tubbo with Tommy in a headlock, Tommy attempting to bite Tubbo's arm, and Ranboo stood off to the side eating their gummy worms without an edge of surprise on their face. Half the shopping bags were still sitting in the cart, the car trunk was open, and one of them had spilled Phil's coffee he foolishly left unattended on top of the car.

He managed to corral the three into the car and finished loading the shopping alone, returning the cart before getting in himself and pulling out of the parking lot. The kids kept bickering between themselves, too distracted to notice Phil turning the wrong way as they left the parking lot. Or the unfamiliar streets he drove them down.

Ranboo clocked it first, looking up from his phone long enough to realise he didn't recognise any of where they were. They were on the edge of South Bay, passing beneath the overpass that marked the line between south and central. They very quickly put their phone away, watching the high-rise apartment buildings roll past. Phil turned and pulled into a private lot outside a shorter building, an apartment complex, maybe five floors to a building, three buildings total.

"Uh- we don't live here." Tubbo pointed out, noticing the car slowing down. Tommy slapped his friend's hand out of his face and turned to his own window. Phil was driving between rows of space, seemingly looking for someone.

"Not yet, you don't." he chuckled, finally pulling into a space near the front. The buildings were far cleaner than those in East End, the walls white and recently cleaned, the dumpsters in between the buildings actually organised, and the front walls lined with small balconies.

"'Not yet'?" Ranboo repeated, dubious. Phil parked, cut the engine, and unbuckled his seatbelt.

"Come on, then, best not to keep Kristin waiting long." he smiled at the trio, grabbed the bag of donut holes, and got out, leaving the three of them scrambling to unbuckle and follow him.

Something was undoubtedly fishy about this. Tommy carried Henry close to his chest as he followed, fur bristling and ears flat as he scanned the open parking lot. An old woman was resting in a rocking chair on her balcony. A younger man was tending the plants on his, while a golden dog lounged on a sun chair beside him. A pair of kids went sprinting from the farthest building, cheering loudly as their parent followed with a large duffle bag over their shoulder and an easy-going smile on their face.

Phil hopped up onto the pavement that linked the three buildings together, strolling breezily through the front doors without qualms or hesitation. Rosie came barrelling over to them not three seconds after, crashing into her father's legs and clinging to him like a koala, screaming gleefully. Phil almost fell over, and Tommy startled, automatically moving to stand behind Tubbo, who in turn stood in front of his friends.

Kristin chuckled, walking over far more calmly than her daughter, and gave her husband a kiss. "Let him go, trouble, com on." she chided Rosie, nudging her away. Rosie giggled and charged at Tubbo, skidding to a stop and bouncing in place.

"We've got you a present!" she announced, sidestepping Tubbo and grabbing Ranboo by the arm. "You get to see it first!"

"They all get to see it." Phil corrected, ignored as Rosie dragged Ranboo to the elevators where Techno stood waiting.

"Well, paperwork's done and the deal is made, so I suppose all that's left is to show them." Kristin shrugged, gesturing for the other boys to follow.

They bundled into the elevator after Ranboo and Rosie, Techno taking the donut holes and (reluctantly) handing a couple to his sister. The elevator was more spacious than the one at home, and audibly more stable, but Tommy hardly felt secure. These people, Phil's family, had proven repeatedly that they had his best interests at heart, and it wasn't that he didn't trust them, he just wasn't sure what to expect.

He should have. He was smart enough to put two and two together, but he was nervous. Techno stood slightly behind him, Rosie next to him and Ranboo leaning against the wall beside her, all three of them sharing the donut holes Phil had bought. Tubbo was nearest the door, leaning on the side wall with his arms crossed and eyes fixed on the ground. Phil and Kristin stood beside each other, hands locked together, Phil leaning more on her than his cane and Kristin humming something under her breath.

Tommy stood next to Phil, watching the doors and tapping his foot. It felt like forever before they slid open, but it was mere seconds. They were on the fifth floor, stepping out of the elevator into a L-shaped hallway right at the corner. In front of them, one wall was lined with windows, the other with doors, and off to the left, the hallway led to a set of stairs going back down and further up.

Kristin led the group down the hall, still humming, and Tommy followed behind her and Phil. Tubbo and Ranboo joined him on either side, and Techno and Rosie just behind him, the latter bouncing on her heels and giggling, unable to contain her excitement. They stopped outside a door labelled twenty-three, almost the last door on the wall.

Kristin unlocked it and pushed the door open, smiling brightly at the three of them and inviting them to enter first. An apartment, of course, largely undecorated but fully furnished. A dining area directly right of the door, a kitchen in full view directly connected, open-walled and separated from a spacious living room by a half-wall-bar. The living room had a sizeable sofa against the farthest wall, a coffee table between it and a wall-mounted TV, and an armchair on the far end of the table.

The back of the living room fed into a wide hallway with a fully glass wall at the end, and double doors leading onto a spacious balcony. Both sides of the hall had two doors, three of which led into furnished bedrooms, the fourth into a bathroom.

"Ta-da!" Kristin threw open her arms in a theatrical wave as she entered the apartment, gesturing widely to the pristine space. Tommy's ear twitched as he entered with his friends, looking around and feeling immediately very out of place.

"What's all this?" Tubbo was the first to speak, wandering over to the living room area and running a hand over the back of the couch.

"Your new home!" Kristin answered, still gleeful, clapping her hands together and waiting for a reaction.

Tommy didn't know how to react. He turned around to stare at her like she'd grown a second head, then looked to Phil, who just nodded in agreement with his wife. Techno shrugged and rolled his eyes.

"They felt bad that you three've been living in filth this whole time and made a major decision about your lives without consulting you first." he stated completely monotone. Tommy just blinked at him.

"When you put it like that, it sounds bad." Phil chided, turning back to the group he added, "you don't have to move in if you don't want to, just know that the apartment is here if you'd like it."

Tommy noticed Ranboo relaxing at that, as they wandered off to investigate one of the three bedrooms. Tubbo had moved from the living room to the kitchen, muttering something about prices, pawning and potential. It was too good to be true. Surely, it was. There was some catch, some caveat. Some unseen cost or rules they had to abide by. One of his favourite things about living alone was the lack of rules. He, and more importantly his friends, could do whatever they wanted, whenever.

And yet, as he lay on a mattress softer than clouds looked, curled under a thick, clean duvet, head resting on a stack of freshly-fluffed pillows. Techno had made them dinner, and Phil had tucked him in with Henry tucked under his arm. he drifted off to an easy sleep for the first time in what felt like his entire life, and decided that maybe life wouldn't be so bad anymore.