Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Tommy tried not to make it a habit. He knew the risks and what would happen to himself and them if he got caught, but… It wasn’t that easy.

Tommy was an only child of two parents who never wanted kids. Two people who always prioritised their career above all else. Tommy wasn’t even meant to be here. It was an accident, his mother had taken antibiotics which cancelled out her birth control, and now he was here. He always felt that his parents were shamed into keeping him, their families citing the (valid) problems with the foster systems and their unwillingness to consider other options. Though Tommy almost wishes they had given him up. At least if they had, he wouldn’t have spent more time with his grandparents, or maybe he wouldn’t have used the school as an escape, taking on any and every extracurricular to get him home as late as possible.

Maybe he wouldn’t be doing this every day.

Tommy knew the myths of horrid creatures of the sea who could lure you to your death with a song. Creatures who hunted humans from their territory with sharp nails and even sharper teeth.

Tommy didn’t think these sirens looked like what the myths had described

They came here most nights—five of them, all sirens but none the same colour. (Tommy doesn’t know if that means anything. He wants to know). They come here most nights and bathe in the moonlight. Tommy has a feeling this is a sacred time, that this is not his to see. But he can’t walk away. Tommy can’t climb back down the rocks and go back to a dark, cold home while his parents work late. He can’t go back to an empty house. He can’t go home because he doesn’t have one anymore. His grandparents’ house was rented out since Pops died, and his Nan got put in the home by the sea.

They don’t do much else besides laugh and play. The younger ones (or, the smaller three) play with a practically deflated beach ball. The elder two chat, sometimes getting hit with the ball before laughing and shooting it back to the younger sirens.

Usually, the older ones will sleuth forward by the night's end, probably collecting anything they might have left. The smaller two will continuously swim a little bit closer. Not close enough for him to hear but close enough to see them banter. He thought, at first, they would swim closer and try to drown him, but it never happened. He doesn’t even fear it anymore.

-

“Is he here?” Tubbo nods, smiling over at Ranboo.

“He’s always here,” Tubbo said.

“Why is he always here?” Ranboo asked, anxiously fiddling with bracelets.

“You don’t know?” Tubbo asked. “I figured you would feel his claim to the sea.” Ranboo whips his head around. “Surely you can feel it. Remember when you tried calling him, and it didn’t work?”

“Phil said that was because it was my first time,” Ranboo said. Tubbo sent him a look.

“And you believed him?” Tubbo asked, shaking his head. “No, you couldn’t call him because he has the sea in him. Either siren or mermaid blood.”

“But that’s impossible. If this guy's parent is a mer, he would’ve grown up in the sea, or at least not be hiding behind a rock while we all swim,” Ranboo said. “I don’t think-“

“I know what I felt, Boo,” Tubb argued.

“I know, Bee, but-“

“No, I know I’m right,” Tubbo said. Ranboo raised his hands in surrender. “I’ll need your help to convince Phil.”

“Convince Phil of what?” Both of them jump when Wilbur interrupts them. Tubbo growls, splashing Wilbur, who, to Tubbo’s satisfaction, pretends he has been mortally wounded and pretends to sink into the water. Ranboo giggles beside him. Even Tubbo manages to crack a smile. He feels a wave of sadness hit him from behind.
‘Why is he sad?’ Tubbo almost asks aloud. A frown must show on his face because Ranboo elbows him, and he looks up to see Wilbur’s concerned face, who reaches up and cups Tubbo’s cheek, webbed fingers gently brushing his cheek.

“What's wrong, guppy? I can feel your sadness through the link,” Wilbur said, and that's… that's new. That’s not his sadness; that's the boys. Why should Wilbur feel it through the link? Unless-

“Come on, you lot; we’re not getting any less tired out here. Let's go!”

-

“Tommy, your father and I are working late again.” Tommy just hums in reply, packing himself a lunch.

“Would you like me to make dinner?”

“Huh? Oh, no, that won’t be necessary. We’re meeting with our business partners over dinner,” His mother replies. Tommy nods. Packaging up his lunch before giving his mother a quick kiss on the cheek (one she does not look up for) before leaving the house. He grabs his bike before taking off towards the school. His dad’s car wasn’t in the driveway anymore, and Tommy had figured he’d have left by now, his mum usually staying later. They said it was under the pretence to make sure he got off safely, but Tommy figured she’d offer him a lift if that were the case. Tommy’s not upset about it (really, he isn’t). He gets daily cardo, he’s fit (better than most of the guys in his class), and he has time to think in the morning (though he usually tries to avoid that).

It also means he can let his imagination run wild. However, it’s usually only one wish (if you could call it a wish).

It usually starts with him on the rocks, except he’s not hiding; he’s laughing along. They’re laughing and playing. He's there, and he gets to join in, and they don’t mind; in fact, they encourage it. Sometimes, on days when it’s terrible, and he’s the most alone, his Nan is there, sitting on the sand, laughing. She used to bring him to the sea, saying it was good for his lungs and asthma. He realises now it was probably just an excuse to spend time with him or get him out of the house. To show him the love he didn’t get elsewhere. But still, whether it be by himself or with his grandmother, it goes the same.

The water is crystal clear and blue, and he’s smiling. He has a genuine smile, not the half-assed attempt he gives his parents on the rare occasion they try (never very often, never for very long), and they beckon him forward into the water. Even the water beckons him forward, and who is he to deny? So he jumps in, never one to back away. They cheer him on as he resurfaces (his Nan does too). He swims with him through the day and the night, and they hold him up when he gets tired. They don’t tell him they’re too busy, too stressed. They don’t say, “not now, Tommy, we’re busy; why can’t you see that?” when he asks them to come to his award show. They don’t ask him to be quiet when he plays with friends because “hearing him shout and yell gives them a headache, and they need to focus on work”. They don’t tell him that games are stupid, never tell him his extra-circulars have to be dropped because they’re inconvenient now that Pops is dead and Nan is in the home so no one can collect him.

He doesn’t realise he’s crying till he sees his eyes in the reflection of a car in the school car park.

He pauses at the gates - it's still a bit early, so it's still quiet enough that he won’t get weird looks for pausing. He hears the honk of a car and turns to feel himself get tackled by a slightly smaller body.

“Tommy Innit from School! How are you?!” Tommy smiles, giving a quick hug back.

“I’m good, Charlie; how are you?”

“I am good, Tommy Innit from school!” He composes himself further.

“Ayo! Tomas! How have you been, man!”

“Aye, Big Q!!”

“Looking good, my man; you need a lift home from school? `Supposed to rain and all,” Big Q asks, and Tommy smiles. He can appreciate Charlie and Quackity because they get it. They also have parents that care more about work than their kids. But at least Charlie has Quackity and vice versa. Quackity, who has dropped him home when his parents have forgotten him more than once, is good to him, who’s collected him and escorted them both when they’ve wanted to do things that might turn to shit, is always there for them. But he’s Charlie’s brother, and Tommy is just the kid everyone feels bad for. The teachers, his classmates, Mr Dude, their woodwork teacher (or Sam as he asks them to call him), Ms Puffy, the guidance counsellor -they’re all the same.

“Nah, I’m good,” Tommy said, smiling. “I was gonna go to the beach anyway, rain or shine.” Quackity laughs at him but pats him on the back.

“Alright, amigo, you two stay out of trouble, yeah?” They care; Tommy knows they do but more out of a sense of pity, whether that pity has devolved into just general sadness when it comes to Tommy. But, he doesn’t want someone to love him because they pity him, to love him because of his situation. He wants someone to love him because they want to. Because they see him, not the persona, he displays. Hold him and tell him he’s enough, that he’s worth it, that he’s not second best or a mistake. That he’s lovable.

But he knows that he is selfish. He knows better. So he accepts the love he can get and tells himself that’s enough.

-

He goes to the beach earlier and sits by the sand beside the rocks. Thankfully, it didn’t rain, but everything was a little damp from the rain last night. He’s hidden from the sea if the sirens are ever here because, for once, he can’t face them. He can’t face the love they exude because he’s jealous. He’s the ugly green monster, but it’s not their fault. Tommy couldn’t even tell who’s fault it was even if he wanted to. But he’s jealous, and it sucks because there’s nothing he can do. The one person who loves him unconditionally is miles away from home, and he has very few ways of getting there.

“Hello.” Tommy reels back, pushing himself back and away from the voice, wiping his face aggressively. “I know you, and I think you know me.” Tommy is scanning behind him, eyes wide and heart pounding. ”Try over here, human.” That’s- that’s coming from the sea. Tommy turns slowly and makes eye contact with one of the sirens he’s been watching for the past few weeks. “I’m gonna guess by the dilation in your eyes that you’ve figured out that I am one of the sirens you’ve been watching.”

“Wha- I- I haven’t- huh,” Tommy stutters out, looking at the siren. “Y-you’re not mad?”

“Not really,” the siren said, shrugging casually and locking eyes with Tubbo. “I know loneliness when I feel it.”

“I’m not-”

“I can physically feel your feelings of loneliness; you cannot lie to me,” he said.

“Sirens can feel people’s emotions?”

“Depends. Not usually, especially humans, but you seem to be an outlier,” he explains. “At least to me. No one else seems to feel your presence but for me, which is annoying.”

“O-oh. I’m sorry-?”

“No, you’re not annoying. The fact that I have no answers is annoying,” the siren said. “Anway, I’m Tubbo. What’s your name?” The- Tubbo said, and Tommy hesitated.

“You’re not going to like… steal my name, are you? Make me your servant or some shit?”

“Do I look like a fae to you?”

“You act like I have regular encounters with magical beings to know the difference.” Tubbo is silent, waiting. “It’s… it’s Tommy.” Tubbo smiles.

“See, no freaky ownership has taken place,” Tubbo jokes and Tommy can’t stop himself from smiling.

“Not like I’d know if there had been,” Tommy said back. Tubbo snorts, chuckling.

“True, true. But I promise I’m not going to drown you,” Tubbo said. “And a siren's word is their honour.” Tubbo extends his hand. “We’ll even shake on it.”

“You don’t know humans well if you think a handshake is all that binding,” Tommy said.

“Well, true, I don’t know much about humans, but this is more for your benefit than mine. Should you try and hurt me, I will just drown you,” Tubbo said so casually that Tommy didn’t hesitate to believe him. “You don't have that benefit, so I’m beginning the process for you to trust me.”

“For someone who claims not to know a lot about humans, you know emotions pretty well,” Tommy said, shaking Tubbo’s extended hand.

“Mhmm,” Tubbo hums. “I suppose emotions aren’t that hard when you know how to work through them.”

“Damn, very deep of you big-“ Tommy pauses. “Do sirens have gender?” Tubbo can’t help it; he laughs.

-

It has become routine; Tommy finds himself going to Tubbo once school finishes. He asks Quackity to drop him off at the beach, spends the first few minutes just wandering around, waiting for quackity to stop worrying about him and drive home eventually and then he heads for the rockpool. At first, he’d come up with highly fabricated stories, things that he knew would make the two laugh. Silly, movie based stuff - ‘you see, I found a book in my parents' wardrobe that had the coordinates to lost treasure somewhere on that beach. I’ll be rich!’ ‘I’m looking for a temple with more riches and explosives than I could dream of. All the wives I could ever want’. Then he would just tell them the truth - that his best friend was a siren (or mermaid, Tommy’s still not sure of the difference), and they talked about their feelings for a few hours every day.

Tubbo tells him about life as a siren, and Tommy tells him about life as a human. Neither of them mentions their family much. Tommy is sure Tubbo’s is out of respect - for them or him, he’s not sure. But they’re close anyway. Their humour is similar; they’re able to bounce off each other, and it's interesting, Tommy finds, learning about siren culture and families and pods and how they interact.

Tommy learns that sirens and mermaids are two separate things: mermaids tend to stay in the deeper parts of the ocean and are less likely to interact with humans and other creatures. They also live in pods, but their pods are much larger and don’t travel much. Sirens, however, tend to move around a lot since their bodies can adjust depending on their surroundings. There are no roles in a pod, like in mermaids, more than the older members hunt while, the younger members stay and set up their base. Tubbo’s travelled everywhere, apparently, going across the seven seas.

In return, Tommy teaches Tubbo about humans - well, as much as he knows. Tubbo seems fascinated by technology and gears and everything mechanical. Tommy lets him play with his phone (after warning him to please not drop it because it is not waterproof). Tubbo genuinely enjoys all the human stories Tommy can think of, and Tommy finds himself shocked (and happy) that someone enjoys his stories this much.

Tommy doesn’t quite know how to believe this. He’s not sure how it’s real or if, in his loneliness, he made all this up. Tubbo’s so easy to be around - easy to talk to and hang out with that he finds himself coming home later and later. It's nice, Tommy thinks, to be out of that lonely house.

“Why do some humans have coral coloured hair?” Tommy raises an eyebrow at him.

“Coral- What the fuck does that mean, big man?”

“Pink hair, blue hair, why does it do that? Are they born with it?” Tommy blinks at him for a moment before chuckling.

“Humans can dye their hair with chemicals. It changes the colour of our hair. We’re all born with the same few colours, though. Brown, blonde, black, etcetera, but these chemicals allow us to change that,” Tommy explains and Tubbo nods, mulling it over.

“Could you dye my hair?” He asks, running his hands through it.

“I think it has to be dry, big man.”

“Well then, can I dye yours then?”

“Uh, I’m not sure,” Tommy said, knowing his parents would freak out.

“Oh, please! I wanna try, but I can’t dye my own.” Tubbo is giving him puppy dog eyes, and Tommy knows this is still a little too new to explain why he doesn’t think he should dye his hair. He has always wanted to, but his parents are weird. That being said, he does rarely see them now.

So Tommy ends up with a red streak in his hair and Tubbo with very red fingers.

“You won’t get in trouble?” Tommy said carefully. He knows they haven’t talked about it, but he still wants to make sure.

“Phil probably won’t notice. How long will this take to come off?” Tubbo asks, still examining his very red fingers.

“Uhmm, it comes off human skin in a day or two, but I’m not sure if it’s different for you because of the whole scale thing,” Tommy said. “Or because of the whole ‘constantly in water’ thing.” Tubbo looks back down at his hands.

“It’s like an experiment,” he said. “Cool.”

“Will you not get in trouble at all then?” Tubbo shrugs.

“It depends. My brothers might say something, but they’ll just make fun of me. Wilbur might see right through any excuse I make, but he won’t snitch on me,” Tubbo explains before a feral grin spreads across his face. “I have too much blackmail on him.” Tommy laughs, smiling. “Will you?” Tubbo asks. “Get in trouble, I mean.” Tommy shrugs.

“Maybe, I don’t know,” Tommy shrugs, but his heart is pounding at the thought and based on the look Tubbo is giving him, he isn’t hiding it very well either.

-

“Thomas, what did you do to your hair?” He hears behind him, and he freezes up. His parents are rarely home early, and if either of them does come home early at the odd time, it’s always his mum, never his dad. “Thomas-”

“I like it.” He keeps his back turned to him, repeatedly wiping one dish to have something to do with his hands, so they don’t shake. “I like it, and a friend did it.”

“Who? That- Chuck? Or Chandler?-”

“Charlie,” Tommy answers. “And no, a new friend.”

“Well, that’s good, that Charlie fellow and his brother were always a bit strange-”

“What do you care?” His father pauses. “Why do you care what they are like?”

“What? Thomas? Don’t be ridiculous,” he said. “I was simply stating that those two are a bit weird. You could do better.”

“That's not fair,” Tommy said quietly.

“Speak up, Thomas.”

“That's not fair,” he said again. “It's not fair to judge them two when they’re the closest people in my life.”

What, Tommy, that's ridiculous,” He said. “You’re mother and I-”

“Don’t,” Tommy said sharply. “Don’t finish that sentence cause you won’t like my reaction.”

“What on earth could that mean?” His dad asks.

“You two are never home, so why would l be close to you?”

“We work to put a roof over your head, might I add,” his dad said.

“You leave; that's what you do!” Tommy said, louder now. “You don’t care. You don’t, and Mom doesn’t. Neither of you even wanted me,” Tommy argues, clutching the dishcloth tightly in his fist.

“Where is this coming from? This-”

“Sixteen years of neglect, maybe. That’s where it comes from. Sixteen years of making my dinners and lunches and ensuring my uniform was cleaned for Monday from as young as seven.”

“Your mother and I work hard to fund your lifestyle-”

“What lifestyle? The one where I sit in my room for hours on end by myself because you don’t want my friends coming over on a work night? Or the weekends that I have to keep free because you and mum can’t drop or pick me up anywhere and buses are non-existent here, so I can never go anywhere. Any friends I do make, drop me because I can never do anything,” Tommy seethes, turning around. “Or how grandma and pops raised me more than you did because you two refused to relent on your career ideals.” He takes a shaky breath, his clenched fists shaking. “So why do you care?”

“Thomas, do not speak to me like that!” His father said, voice rising. “it’s unprofessional and while you are in our house-”

“I don’t care!” Tommy shouts. “I do not care about your professionalism. I’d rather be dead than like you two!”

A loud bang causes both men’s eyes to shoot to the sink. The faucet is spewing water, and the cold tap has shot off, hitting the wall. Tommy stares at it in shock as his dad shouts, running to the sink and stopping the flow from the pipe before.

Tommy hadn’t even left the water running.

-

“You okay?” Tommy looks up at Tubbo. “I haven’t felt you around at night recently,” Tubbo said. “And I would assume you were sleeping, but you don’t look very well rested.” The truth is Tommy isn’t well-rested. After his outburst, his house has a new level of tension to it. Tommy, who has already been avoiding his parents, has pumped that up to the max. He comes home early and escapes as soon as he has some semblance of food down. He doesn’t return until he knows his parents are asleep and climbs back into his window, sneaking out again early in the morning and waiting in the school till classes start.

He could’ve gone back to the beach and watched them play like he used to. Part of him still wanted to. However, too much of him was hurt by the fact that Tubbo got a family. He got a family who supported each other, cared for each other, and listened to each other. He was never made to feel like a burden or a mistake by people supposed to love him.

And Tommy could tell him that. He could lay his heart out to him, explain why he doesn’t come anymore and why he’s tired and pale and getting skinnier. He could explain it all, and he finds he wants to; he doesn’t want to be alone in this loneliness anymore. He’s tired of carrying all this by himself.

“I’ve been busy.”

But he doesn’t because it's too much. Because he’s too much. So he lies.

“Schoolwork, you know?”

And he hopes Tubbo can’t feel the crushing feeling that weighs on him, staying in his chest. Every beat of his heart reminds him that he’s jealous and angry, but most of all, he’s lonely. So lonely that he feels he’s close to drowning.

-

“Dad’s thinking of moving.” Tubbo spins around to Wilbur. “He said this area is too populated-”

“He can’t!” Tubbo exclaims loudly. It’s loud enough that Ranboo, who was napping beside him, wakes up.

“Why do you care? You didn’t even want to come here-”

“I changed my mind! When is he thinking of leaving?”

“Why did you change your mind?”

“I-” Tubbo cuts himself off, going silent. “I just do, okay? That's not a crime!”

“Is it to do with the human you’ve been talking to?” Wilbur said, and the room went silent. Tubbo notices Ranboo tense up beside him.

“Ranboo!” He hits the other siren in the arm. “You told him!? Why would you do that?!”

“You were being reckless! We had no idea how it was going to go!” Ranboo defends. “He could’ve been dangerous!”

“Plus, you trusted Ranboo; that’s basically useless,” Wilbur said.

“Backbone of a chocolate eclair,” Ranboo said, talking about himself. “Plus, would you rather I tell? Techno or Wilbur?”

“Stop with your logic,” Tubbo said, rolling his eyes. “I would rather you tell no one, actually.”

“Why are you talking to this human? Has he been hurting you? Is that why- Oh my god is that blood on your hands!” Wilbur shoots forward, grabbing Tubbo’s faded red hands. Tubbo snatches them back, scoffing.

“It’s not blood, it's dye,” He explains. “Hair dye, I dyed his hair.” Wilbur blinks at him.

“You’re attached,” Wilbur accuses.

“He’s got the call of the sea! Remember, a little while ago, when you felt sadness coming from my side of the bond?!” Wilbur nods sceptically. “That wasn’t me; that was him! We’re connected, somehow! I’ve been trying to figure it out, but I can’t find anything to connect us.”

“Could be Phil’s secret love child,” Ranboo jokes. “He looks a little like him, with the blonde hair and blues eyes.”

“Yeah, like Phil would ever look at anyone else but Mum,” Wilbur said.“

She would kick his ass,” Tubbo said, and the other two nodded in agreement.

“But this human-”

“Wilbur-”

“I’m meeting him. Ranboo too, and if he’s dangerous, I’m telling Phil,” Wilbur said.

“He’s not dangerous,” Tubbo said, scoffing. “Just… lonely.”

“That can be its kind of dangerous Tubbo, you know this,” Wilbur argues.

“I know, but… he’s different. I know he would never hurt us. Hurt me. He’s…” one of us comes to mind, but Tubbo can’t be sure, not yet, not until he knows more.

Chapter Text

“My brothers want to meet you,” Tubbo says, and Tommy nods slowly.

“In a ‘let's kill the human’ kind of way or a ‘human? What are those?’ kind of way?” Tommy asked.

“How scared would you be if I said that I didn’t know?” 

“Very.”

“Well, I’m not sure what to tell you,” Tubbo said, giving Tommy an awkward chuckle.

“Should I come across as buff or non-threatening?”

“No offence, but-”

“Not actually, don’t answer that; my feelings will be hurt either way,” Tommy says, chuckling.

“They’re about to break to the surface.” As if on cue, two heads broke from the water. Tommy recognised the first one as the black and white siren and the second siren as the yellow one. “This is Ranboo,” Tubbo said, gesturing to the black and white one, who waves. “And this is Wilbur.” Wilbur, the yellow one, nods at him.

From afar,  Tommy had thought that Ranboo could’ve been older than Wilbur, considering he was slightly longer. However, up close, it became apparent to him that Wilbur was the elder one. Tommy also noted that they didn't look similar despite them all being sirens and a family. 

Tubbo was more buff than the other two. He had more muscle in his arms, which had light green scales with gold sheen running along with them. He had gills under his chin and some webbing under his eyes, also light green. He was tanner, his skin a little rougher, covered in moles, freckles, and soft white scar tissue. His eyes were lighter too, not softer, but his pupils were smaller.

Ranboo was skinnier than Tubbo and a lot longer. From his limited knowledge, Tommy imagined he would be faster, too. His tail was a mix of black and white, but not like a zebra since there didn’t seem to be a pattern it followed. The tail was more white than black; some large black splotches and dots decorated the tail. Ranboo is a good bit paler than both of his brothers. He wasn’t translucent, but he was pretty damn close. His arms had none of the scales. Instead, he had blotches of darker and light skin. His nails were longer than Tubbo’s too, who, don’t get him wrong, were pretty sharp, but Ranboo’s were claws. Ranboo’s teeth were sharper too, more inhuman. His gills only reached his neck, and scales travelled from his fin-like ears to his eyes.

Wilbur was the most human-like, though it wasn’t by much. His nails were short, but he had scales that travelled from his wrist to his knuckles and webbing between his fingers. His arms were bare, save for a few scars and a tattoo on his right shoulder. His tale is yellow too, but not like lemon, more like a canary yellow. His chest is covered in seemingly random splotches. His tail is the same canary yellow but seems to have gold detailing, and Tommy is a little mesmerised by it. His eyes are darker, too, with only a thin brown ring around the pupil. He’s tall, too - not as tall as Ranboo, but pretty tall nonetheless.

“Uhm, hi?” Tommy says, breaking the silence that encompasses them all. “I’m Tommy.”

“Hi Tommy, Tubbo’s told me about you,” Wilbur says smoothly and coldly.

“Good things, I hope,” Tommy jokes but physically recoils back at the stern look he’s getting from Wilbur.

“Knock it off,” Tubbo says, hitting Wilbur's arm. “He’s not going to hurt us. He’s physically weaker - Sorry Tommy - and he’s got like, no other friends  - sorry again, Tommy - plus-”

“I think he gets the point, Tommy grumbles, cheeks red. “But yes, it's true.”

“Then why keep coming back?” Wilbur asks. 

“Did you not hear the no friends bit?” Tubbo asks.

“I like the beach,” Tommy says. “My grandparents used to take me all the time. So I love the beach cause I grew up here.”

“Why keep coming back to Tubbo?”

“He’s my friend?” Tommy says, but his tone is uncertain. “I like hanging out with him. Plus, I like to think we’re good friends.”

“We are good friends, which is why you're going to be nice and not a bitch-”

“I am not a bitch. I just care because you’re my little brother, and that's not a crime-”

“You’re a bitch, Wilbur. Stop being mean to my friend-”

“Hi Tommy, I’m Ranboo.” Tommy turns to the voice to his right.

“Are they…?”

“Always like this? Yes,” Ranboo says. “They are the chaotic two. The rest of us are a lot more chill.”

“Oh? You have more family?”

“Yeah, did Tubbo not mention us?”

“Kind of. He mentions you guys a few times, but we also don’t… talk about families much,” Tommy says. “I knew he had brothers - and a dad - but I wasn’t sure how many.”

“Well, it's us three and Dad and Techno. He’s like our uncle, but we’ve all known him forever. He’s best friends with both Mom and Dad.”

“Do you have any siblings?” Wilbur asks suddenly, almost making Tommy jump, but he just shakes his head after composing himself.

“Nope, just me.”

“I wish I had no brothers sometimes,” Tubbo says before promptly getting dunked underwater by Wilbur.

“Sorry, you look dry,” Wilbur says sarcastically.

“So just you and your parents, then?” Ranboo asks, once again ignoring the other two. “You guys close?” Tommy blinks at him, chuckling awkwardly.

“I, uh.” He pauses, now noticing all three sets of eyes on him. “Not really,” he says finally, face flush. It’s the kind of quiet that Tommy hates. “They’re not like. Wronguns or anything, they just work a lot.” They’re still quiet, and Tommy wishes he hadn’t said anything.

“You can meet our dad if you’d like,” Ranboo blurts out. “He’s not a… wrongun?” Tommy blinks at him. “He also probably won’t kill you.” Tommy laughs at that.

“Seems as good a reason as any,” he jokes. “I mean, if I’m not gonna die, I’m all for it.”

-

“Just where were you three?” Phil asks as soon as they're in the cave, and Tubbo has a sneaking suspicion he already knows.

“Tubbo made friends with a human because he thinks he has the sea's call, and he’s unfortunate and lonely,” Ranboo blurts out before anyone can move to speak.

“Ranboo!” Tubbo shouts. “We said we were gonna tell him slowly!”

“A human?” Techno says, coming from the hallway. “Tubbo, you know-”

“I know, okay, but he's different,” Tubbo argues. “I can feel it. He’s got some connection to the sea; I know he does.” Techno levels him with a look. Tubbo ignores him. “I feel him. I feel his emotions, his loneliness. It's the same feeling as the bond.”

“He’s a human?” Techno says.

“He might have a claim to the sea,” Phil says. “Let the record state; I do not like this Tubbo. If I had known about this, we would have left before we even got to this stage.”

“And what? Left him here? To drown in his sadness?” Tubbo says, “and besides, I wouldn’t have left. I wouldn’t have left.”

“Tubbo, you can’t save every sad soul you see,” Phil says.

“You do.”

“Yes, and I have suffered at times for it,” Phil says, moving closer to Tubbo and pulling him close. “I don’t want you to get hurt. I don’t trust the outsider. He could be lying to you.”

“And I’ll face it if he is, but….” Tubbo says. “My head tells me to trust him, trust whatever link we have.”

“That's a foggy road. You might not like the ending,” Phil says.

“I trust that I will,” Tubbo responds, squeezing Phil one last time before moving back. “I trust him. And he wants to meet you.” And Tubbo swims away after that, dragging Ranboo with him, who waves goodbye sheepishly. Wilbur sighs and rolls his eyes fondly before following after them both, calling his goodbyes.

“I don’t trust this. I don’t trust this human,” Techno says. 

“Neither do I,” Phil says.

“What are we going to do?”

“If it wouldn’t split the pod, I’d grab everyone and run,” Phil says. “But we’ll meet him. Both of us.”

“If he hurts you or them, I’ll kill him,” Techno says casually.

“I know,” Phil says. “You’re my oldest friend, Techno. I trust you completely.”

“You kind of have to, old man. You’re weak ass bones couldn’t hurt a guppy,” Techno says, smirking.

“I’m a quarter of a century older than you!”

“That's a lot decaying you’ve done, old man, keep up,” Techno says, dodging past Phil as the man starts to chase after him.

“Come here, you little shit,” Phil says.

“Says you, you short old man,” Techno teases.

“Techno, stop harassing dad!” Wilbur says.

“Thank you, son!”

“It's rude to attack defenceless elders,” Wilbur teases, and Phil gives him a look.

“I’m taking you out of my will,” he says.

“Old man already has a will; damn, he’s not in denial anymore,” Tubbo joins in.

“Ranboo is my favourite son now,” Phil says, deadpanning.

“Let's go!” Ranboo says. “I am better than all of you!” 

“Oi!” Tubbo and Wilbur yell.

-

“Thomas!” Tommy pauses at the door the following day, his mother’s voice behind him. “You cannot continue to ignore us. We are your parents.” He turns to look at her but doesn’t say anything. “Your father was upset with what you said.”

“I’ll bet,” Tommy muttered. 

“We’re your parents, and although we’re not around much does not mean you get to talk to us like that.” She moves closer to the front door, grabbing her jacket. “We work hard to provide you with necessities and a room. Many children your age are forced to work or are abused; you should be grateful.” She levels him with a look. “Answer me when I talk-”

“Are you done?” She blinks at him.

“Excuse me-”

“I’m taking that as a yes,” he says. “I’m going to be late. Goodbye. I won’t wait up.” And he opens the front door, the anger rising. He moves down their driveway in an almost stomp.

“Thomas Ines! Listen to me when I’m talking to you!” His mother yells after him, and Tommy allows himself to turn back with a glare just once. As he does, their sprinklers splutter before water bursts out, soaking his mother where she stands. She shrieks, and Tommy doesn’t wait around to let her see him laugh. As soon as he’s out of view and earshot, he bursts into laughter. He ignores the tears that flow with it. 

He doesn’t know why his parents decided to change the sprinkler timer on that particular morning (because that must be the only explanation), but he enjoyed it nonetheless.

-

He spends a little longer to make it to the rock pool that day. He had promised Quackity he’d let him take both himself and Charlie out for ice cream because it was a hot day. Quackity has brought his friends from school, so they all just ate ice cream and chilled. Part of Tommy wanted to go to the rock pool, but he also knew it was maybe a little unhealthy only to have friends who were sirens. He let himself enjoy the afternoon because it might be one of the enjoyable few, and he doesn’t know when he’ll get another opportunity like this again.

He eventually makes it to the rockpool but about five that evening - bearing gifts of sweets. He’s not entirely sure if sirens can eat chocolate and other sweet stuff, but he doubts that would stop Tubbo at the least. He approached not quite silently but not with his usual loudness.

“Tubbo, I don’t think-”

“He’s coming; I know he is. He never misses a meeting,” Tubbo says, and Tommy is hit with a feeling of guilt. Tubbo’s right; he does never miss a meeting. He’s never even been late before. He’s usually the one waiting for Tubbo. Realising this, Tommy moves a bit faster, jumping over the rocks. He overestimates his ability to stop thinking as his foot slips on a wet rock, and he screams as he slips down, cutting his arm on the fall before plunging into the water.

Underwater is cold, he thinks as he feels arms on his waist and under his arms pulling him up. He can’t see, and Tommy thinks he must have fallen pretty deep into the water because he feels the pressure of the waves - that or he hit his head on the way down. He feels himself being pulled up through the water, but he’s not sure by who. He breaks the surface and, on instinct, tries to take a deep breath but chokes on the water in his mouth. He feels lifted onto the rocks, pushed on his side. He feels hands rubbing his back, another hand hitting his back until he coughs up any water he swallowed.

After that, he takes a deep breath, his body shuddering as he sucks in as much oxygen as possible. 

“-Okay, bossman?!” He blinks, trying to locate the voice with his spotty vision. “-ommy? Did-” he loses focus on the voice, and it gets tuned out by his heart beating in his ears.

“Give- a minute, Tubbo-” a new voice swims in and out of his ears. He blinks, closes his eyes and tries to breathe steadily. “You’re okay,” the voice says. “A little wet but otherwise good.” He feels hands in his head, and his eyes shoot open.

“No cuts that I can see, definitely no blood,” another new voice says, and Tommy feels a little dizzy with all the new voices.

“Except for his arm,” and this voice he recognises.

“Tubbo,” he says breathlessly.

“Hi bossman, you doing okay?”

“Define okay,” Tommy jokes, and his visions clear enough to see Tubbo’s smile.

“That was very funny, bossman, I won’t lie,” Tubbo says, and Tommy sees Wilbur reach out and hit him. “What?! It was?!”

“Your friend could be concussed, and he’s already bleeding! This could’ve ended a lot worse,” Wilbur says. 

“It’s fine,” Tommy says, still breathless. “It was probably funny.”

“Still, are you feeling okay?” one of the new voices asks, and Tommy spins around, blinking at the man.

He doesn’t know what it is about this siren, but Tommy knows he’s their dad. His green, but not the same shade as Tubbo; he’s a more deep, forest green. He's not precisely taller - a little taller than tubbo but the next smallest. His hair reaches his shoulder but is tied up in a half-up-half-down style. His arms are covered in tattoos and scars that range in colour and size. He also has a handful of scale patches. His scales shimmer with a light gold dusting when the sun catches them right. He’s also the only one with gills, just under his chin. His hands are webbed, and he has webbed ears as well, which Tommy notes look fucking fantastic. His eyes are a dark green as well, and they seem friendly.

“I, uh, y-yeah, I feel fine. Uhm…. Who are you?”

“I’m Phil,” Phil introduced himself. “The big guy beside me is Techno - we’re the adults here.”

If Phil’s eyes are kind, Techno’s are terrifying. He is much larger than the rest, buffer. His hair is long, too - and Pink catches Tommy by surprise. He’s tall, too - though Wilbur is still distinctly the tallest in the family. While the others are smiling or their faces are blank, Techno is scowling. He doesn’t have tattoos like Phil, but he’s got twice as many scars - though most are faint or fully healed. His hands are webbed, and so are his ears. He’s got scales from his shoulders up to his neck, and they’re in an ombre red, pink and orange pattern. His tail is in the same pattern.

“Uhm, hi,” Tommy says. “Sorry, I’m late, by the way.” They’re all silent for a minute before Tubbo starts laughing.

“Not even nearly drowning could stop you from apologising.”

It’s a little while later - the sun is setting. Tommy’s arm is cleaned, and he’s under strict instructions to wrap it when he gets home. He’s mostly dried off now, but he’s still a little damp. Techno, Tommy notices, becomes less intimidating the longer you know him. That, and because he practically lets the young three climb on top of him to play and torment each other, makes him seem a lot less intimidating. Phil is to his left, watching with him as the others mess around.

“Tubbo says you’re not close with your family,” Phil says. 

“Uh, no, not really. It's just my parents and me, and they work a lot,” Tommy says.

“It must get lonely.” Tommy shrugs.

“I’ll get out one day,” He says.

“You could join us,” Phil says, and Tommy whips his head to look at him, his heart hammering in his chest. Phil isn’t looking at him; his gaze is focused on his family, where Tubbo and Wilbur are diving underneath to chase each other, Ranboo and Techno getting caught up in their fighting. He’s got a soft smile on his face, which he keeps when he looks at Tommy. “I’ve been known for picking up strays.”

“But… but I’m not-” He cuts himself off, too afraid to say the words.

“Maybe not fully, but you’ve got a call alright; Tubbo was right about that,” Phil says. “Tell me, were either of your parents adopted? You must have a siren somewhere in your bloodline.”

“It couldn’t be my parents. They hate the sea,” Tommy says. “And no, neither of them were adopted, at least not to my knowledge.”

“Well, it's not the end,” Phil says. “Parents are just the most obvious. The fainter the connection to the sea, the harder it might adjust and change you, but the transformation can still be done.”

“You mean I could join you?” Phil smiles at him.

“My wife knows the magic better, and she’ll be home in two or three days. If you can hang on until then, well then yes, you could,” Phil says, and Tommy’s heart is pounding with joy. The waves have picked up slightly, too and Phil zones in on it, looking back to Tommy. He doesn’t look for long because Tommy throws him at Phil, hugging him close. “Awh, mate, it's okay. You’re welcome here.”

“Phiiiiiiiiiiil, I wanted to be the one to tell him,” Tubbo says, coming up behind them to poke Tommy in the arm.

“You snooze, you lose,” Phil jokes.

“You go adopting another orphan, old man?” Techno askes.

“Don’t act like you haven’t already planned out his room, mate,” Phil says. “You’re as bad as I am.”

“So I was right; he does have a call to the sea?” Phil nods.

“Not through his parents, but the connection is there.” 

But at this stage, Tommy has started to drown them out. He's getting sleepy, but he’s too wired to sleep. He has a family that wants him and wants him to be with them. He’s never cried so many tears of joy in his life.

-

Two days later, his parents woke him up before his alarm. He blinks away, confused as to why the sun is only starting to rise.

“Thomas, it's your grandmother.” This causes him to shoot up. “She had a heart attack last night; her nurse called us to let us know. They need someone to go down and sign some paperwork.” His mother says she sits down on his bed, which is uncharacteristic. “They don’t think she’ll make it.”

Tommy’s world sinks from under him. His mother reaches out and takes her hand, squeezing it. Their relationship is not strong enough for more. It may never be what it's supposed to be. Right now, he feels her only connection to her is this grief, the grief of losing someone so important to you. He squeezes her hand back. They’ll never recover; he knows this. He thinks she knows this, but he can be there for her. In the same way, she’ll be there for him—two people connected in grief.

-

The journey is silent. He and his mother don’t talk about this morning, don’t talk about eh shared tears and the one tight gripped hug. They’ve all packed a bag, but they don’t know how long they’ll stay. Tommy didn’t even get to leave a note for Tubbo, but he cannot bring himself to feel guilt. If he has and he missed his chance to say goodbye, he’d never have forgiven himself.

The hospital they arrive at is quiet for a hospital. It's only 5 am, but it feels wrong for a hospital to feel quiet. They find her room quickly, but she’s asleep when they get there. They said that someone found her quickly, and the nurse in the home happened to be outside her door when she fell. They’ve done what they can, but they just don’t know due to her age.

Tommy stopped listening after that point, instead just choosing to sit and watch her breath. His parents disappear, and he hears his father say something about breakfast. He doesn’t move. Nurses filter in and out of the room every few minutes, and they all give him that tight-lipped, half curved smile that he hates because it symbolises grief. She’s not even dead yet, and they’re already grieving. His parents come back again and hand him a sandwich. His dad excuses himself and says he’s checking into a hotel for them. His mother and him sit in silence. He gives her half his sandwich. She gives him half her coffee.

Eventually, she leaves the room when her phone rings - it's probably her job since she never just ups and leaves work. She almost looks guilty taking the call. She mutters an ‘i’ll be quick’ to the room before she walks out. Tommy watches her go, but his eyes shoot back when he feels his hand squeezed.

“Now, don’t look so sad, guppy; I’ve lived a long life.” He keeps his eyes on her, eyes that are quickly filling with tears.

“I don’t want you to go,” he says. “I don’t want to lose-” He sniffles. “I don’t want to lose the last family I have,” he says. If he said this to anyone else, he's sure they would remind him he has parents, but he knows she gets it.

“You’re not losing me, guppy, never. I’m simply going to be hard to find,” his grandmother says. “But I’ll always be there in every wave, in every rock pool.” He sniffles again.

But his brain is hung up on her words. When it clicks, he realises he’s an idiot. Phil asked him if he’s parents liked the sea and he was right, his parents didn’t. But his grandmother did. Always had. She’s the one who taught him to love the sea. She’s the one that was adopted in their family.

“You were the siren in the family, aren’t you?” he asks, and she smiles at him.

“Don’t tell me you’ve only just figured it out?” she jokes, and Tommy is fully crying now, hugging her. “Oh, guppy, you’ve been so lonely since Pops died, huh?” He nods. “You’ve found people, though, good people.”

“A family,” he says. “Their sirens.” She smiles and squeezes him. He sits up after, aware he’s crushing the wires connected to her. “I wish you could’ve met them.”

“I will, dear, in another life,” she says.

“You don’t have to go,” he says weakly.

“I do, guppy, I do,” she says. “Your pops is waiting for me. And I miss him.”

“Did he know?”

“He knew enough. When your mother didn’t seem to inherit anything, he didn’t see the point in worrying. Though he knew it skipped a generation and stayed with you, he was a bit too old,” she jokes. “He didn’t care. He loved you, and he loved me. That's all that matters at the end of the day.”

“I’ll miss you,” he says. “I’ll miss you for the rest of my life.”

“I’ll miss you too, guppy, but you must have a life,” she says. “Travel, see the world, start collections and build and grow your family and home. Don’t turn into your parents. Turn into yourself.” He’s still crying when he squeezes her hard.

-

She dies that night. His mother came in soon after she spoke, and they said their goodbyes, and she passed away peacefully in her sleep. The funeral is three days later - that weekend. Tommy is happy it was quick. The nursing home takes care of the most complicated work, allowing the family to grieve.

They’re on the drive back home seven days after leaving, and Tommy knows that this is the end. He knows his mother feels it too, and his dad is probably annoyed. They make it to their front gate, but Tommy does not enter.

“Thomas? Come on, it will rain,” his father says, annoyed already. 'Good,' Tommy thinks, 'be annoyed. It’s not my problem to deal with anymore.’

“No,” he says. “I’m done with this.”

“Thomas, don’t be.”

“No!” he says, louder this time. “You may be happy to live pretending you don’t have a son, but I’m sick of the loneliness. I’m leaving.”

“Where would you go?” his father asks, unimpressed. His mother is silent by her husband's side, hugging herself.

“I’ve found people who care about me,” he says. “Where do you think I’ve been this whole time? When I’m not in the joke you call home?”

“Now listen here-”

“No, you listen,” he says, and it's raining now. “Tell people I've runoff, or you’ve sent me off to college or something, cause you won’t find me where I go. This would happen, either now or in a year when I would have left college. But now I’ve found a family, found people who want me. I hope you’re happy, and I hope you enjoy the consequences of your actions.”

“Thomas Ines-”

“Let him go,” his mother says. “He’s right; these are the consequences.” She turns on her heels and walks to the door, opening it and entering inside without looking back. His father gapes between him and the door before following his wife in, an argument on his lips. He thinks he would be grateful to his mother that she did this in some timeline. 

But in this one, he’s glad she didn’t look back.

He’s sprinting to the beach, his heart is pounding, and the rain is belting down on his, but he doesn’t care. His smile is wide because he remembers the last words his grandmother said to him,

The sea will always welcome back its children.

And Tommy is almost sad he’ll never experience the magic Phil had mentioned, but he thinks this is almost as good.

“TUBBO!” he shouts. “WILBUR! PHIL! TECHNO! RANBOO!” he’s shouting at four in the morning to a deserted beach, and he’s sure someone will hear him, but he doesn’t care. He hears people breaking the surface of the water, and he climbs to the tallest point of the rock pool, the diving point and smiles down at them all as they stare up at him. “I FIGURED IT OUT!” he said.

“What?!”

“I FIGURED OUT WHERE THE SIREN BLOOD COMES FROM!” he says, taking off his shoes. He gets ready - ignoring their warning calls - and jumps!

I’m home. Welcome me back,’ Tommy thinks, and then he crashes into the water.

It's not cold this time, he recognises. It's warm and bright, and he grins, blinking open his eyes before shooting towards the surface. He hears their gasps, and he knows he must have changed. He looks down. 

His hands are webbed now, and he has a trail of bright red scales with golden swirls that travel from his elbow to his neck. He’s got gills, too, just like Phil, and webbed ears. His teeth are sharper, but his hair is still blonde. His scales start at his wait and travel down to his deep red and maroon tail. He's smiling and probably crying when Tubbo tackles him into a hug.

“We thought you’d changed your mind,” he says quietly, and Tommy hugs him back just as fierce.

“My grandmother-” he chokes off, sniffling. “She was the siren. She died last week.” He heard a crooning noise - a slight comforting noise that Tommy leaned to. Hands cup his face and pull him close.

“Are you okay?” Phil asks.

“Of course,” Tommy responds. “I’m home.”