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In eight-year-old Tommy’s humble opinion, his family was the best. They were kind and listened to him and explained why he was wrong in terms he understood. They cared about him and Tommy cared about them in turn.
He had fond memories of both his parents up until he was eleven years old, when his father had gotten into a car accident on the way home from work. He remembered his mother sobbing and not understanding why until it hit him that oh, he’s not coming back. Then it had been just him and his mother.
And he had been abandoned less than a year later.
His mother, who insisted with tears in her eyes that she loved him beyond words, had still left him a few blocks from the police department, had still left him by himself with nowhere to go and no family to take care of him.
It had hurt. It had hurt so much.
Only a day after his twelfth birthday, in which he was the happiest he had been in months and believed full-heartedly that nothing else would change, and he was kicked to the curb by someone he had loved and trusted with everything he had.
He wouldn’t be exaggerating if he said he’d sobbed for days afterward. Through the countless questions, through the emotionless comforting, through the people telling him they were going to find him a home.
“I already have a home!” he screamed, lashing out and swiping angrily at his tears. “I don’t need another!”
“Where?” they asked desperately, hands reaching to hold him. “Just tell us where and we can help you go back.”
But he couldn’t. He was abandoned, and he couldn’t because he really didn’t have a home. He would never have a home again.
And that was true. Almost four years later, and he was once again knocking on the door to a new house, his hands digging into his pockets and his eyes narrowed in suspicion as the door swung open.
“Hey! You must be Tommy.”
He sniffed, looking away and letting his social worker do all the talking. It was routine now, being shown around a house he wouldn’t stay in for more than a few months and waiting for them to fill out paperwork. It was fucking boring, and he let his eyes roam before bringing them back to fix firmly on his fiddling hands.
“…Tommy?”
“Hm?” he looked up, tuning back in to the conversation.
“I said it looks like you’re all set. Be on your best behavior, okay?”
“Yeah, sure.”
She sent him a small smile and Tommy rolled his eyes, turning to Phil when he heard the door click closed.
“Hey, I think you zoned out for most of that, which is perfectly fine, but I’m Phil. I have two sons, Wilbur and Techno, who have both graduated already. They’ll be around for the next few months to meet you and hang out.”
Great, Tommy thought dryly.
“There aren’t many rules, other than curfew is at eleven and if a door’s closed, make sure to knock. Also, the kitchen is always open and you can go almost anywhere as long as you ask first.”
These weren’t the worst rules that he's had to follow. He once had a home that made him stay in his room all day, only coming out for meals. Out of sight, out of mind, right?
“I can probably get you signed up for school in a few—”
“I took school online,” Tommy cut in. “Already graduated and everything.”
“Oh,” he blinked, turning to ruffle through his papers, almost like he didn’t believe him. “Okay. Did you want to go to university or anything?”
He shook his head, already tired of the conversation. They sat in an awkward silence for a few minutes as Phil looked over the papers, his eyes narrowing at certain points. They both perked up when the door swung open.
“—fucking prick, Techno. I swear to Prime I never said anything even close to that.”
“Sure,” a flat voice answered. Tommy turned just as they stepped through the doorway, both pausing to stare at him.
“Oh, I thought—” the brown-haired man glance toward the clock on the stove before looking back, confusion in his eyes.
“They showed up a little early,” Phil explained softly, and Tommy tensed, whipping his head toward him.
He hadn't known that. He didn’t know there was a time they were supposed to show up this time. Either way, it wasn’t his fault so hopefully he wouldn’t be punished for it.
“No worries,” the stranger took a step forward and Tommy focused on him, his shoulders nearly touching his ears. “I’m Wilbur.”
“Tommy.”
He ignored Wilbur’s outstretched hand, instead curling his arms tighter around himself and leaning further away. They both jolted at the sound of a snort.
“Leave the kid alone, Wil,” the other man, who was sporting long pink hair and a small grin, spoke. “I’m Techno.”
He didn’t bother going for a handshake and instead settled himself in a seat at the table. After a second, Wilbur followed.
“Alright,” Phil placed his hands on the table and Tommy straightened, focusing. “Boys, this is Tommy. He’s fifteen—”
“Practically sixteen,” Tommy muttered indignantly.
Phil shot him an amused glance. “He’ll hopefully be staying here for a while.”
Tommy narrowed his eyes suspiciously but didn’t comment on it.
“Got any triggers?” Wilbur asked, leaning forward eagerly.
“Uh, sorry?” Tommy leaned back.
“Triggers. Like, anything you don’t want us to do or say that will make you really upset.”
“No, I know what they are. Why would you care?”
All three of them looked at him like he’d grown another head.
“Tommy, we’re not going to judge you,” Phil told him softly. “We want you to be comfortable here. This is supposed to be a safe place.”
Supposed to be.
“Yeah, okay,” he muttered.
“So?” Wilbur asked expectantly.
“Uh,” he’d never had to think about it before. “Loud noises, I guess? I don’t like yelling or fighting, and—”
I don’t like people leaving. Don’t tell me you love me and then turn around and send me back.
“That’s it.”
That was the first of many things about this family that confused Tommy, including, but not limited to, Wilbur’s weird obsession with sand, Techno’s insistence that no amount of coffee is good without a gallon of sugar in it, and Phil’s constant smiles. The man smiled way too much. The weirdest thing though, was that he found himself liking them. He found himself becoming attached, as much as he tried to avoid it, and he was starting to love this family.
“Come here, Toms!”
Tommy jumped down the last few steps and ran toward the kitchen, where Phil and Techno were sitting and acting like boring old people while they chatted over a cup of tea.
“Help!” he shrieked, giggling as he dove behind them.
Techno stared at him for a moment before turning away. “You’re on your own, Theseus.”
“Don’t be a prick, Techno!” he shouted, using words that had taken him months to even feel comfortable stuttering to his foster brothers.
“Tommy!” Wilbur shouted and shit, if Tommy didn’t know him he’d think he was pissed.
“What did you do this time?” Phil asked exasperatedly, a small smile on his face.
Tommy grinned. “I—”
Wilbur’s face appeared at the entrance to the kitchen and Tommy yelped, ducking behind Phil. The older man sent him an amused look and quietly sipped from his cup as he watched Wilbur approach.
“He posted my fucking music onto YouTube!” the brown-haired man accused loudly, creeping closer with his hands outstretched as he began circling the table.
“Congrats!” Techno cheered. “We’ve been trying to get you to do that for years.”
Tommy beamed proudly.
“How many views has it gotten?” Phil asked eagerly, turning in his seat.
“A couple thousand.”
“Hey!” Wilbur complained, pausing to frown at his father. “I didn’t want that on the internet.”
“Sucks to suck,” Tommy stuck his tongue out. “It’s good. You can’t deprive the people of good music.”
“Aw, Tommy,” Wilbur crooned. He lunged across the room and roughly ruffled his hair. “You like my music that much?”
“Fuck off,” he flushed, embarrassed. Honestly though, there was nobody in the world who could beat his brother’s music.
So yeah, this family was strange and new, and everything about them reminded him of the days before his father’s death. The fun and joy-filled days of running around, playing, and just being a kid. He felt like he was starting to have fun again and he wanted it to last for forever.
Of course, he'd always mess up at some point, and then he would be sent back. The family would realize they didn’t want any kids, or they wanted a different age, or they just wanted a different personality altogether. They would realize they didn’t want somebody who messes up all the time, because Tommy definitely wasn’t the perfect child.
It started like this, with Tommy sitting on the couch, mindlessly watching the television, and Techno settled across the room with a book laid across his lap. It was a normal day, other than Tommy waking up a little more anxious than usual, so Wilbur coming down the stairs to leave for work shouldn’t have bothered him. However, it did.
Tommy’s heart thudded violently in his chest as he watched Wilbur walk toward the front door, his hand moving to open it and his other reaching up to muffle a yawn.
“Hey, bitch!” he called impulsively, but it was too late to take it back. He could see Techno’s head lifting from the corner of his eye as he tracked the conversation. Wilbur paused and turned, his confused eyes finding Tommy’s own.
“What did you say?”
The blond boy instantly withdrew, pushing himself as far back into the cushions as he could. Suddenly, he wished he hadn’t said a word.
“Tommy, what did you say?”
He held his breath, his eyes starting to water. To make it worse, he could hear Phil walking down the stairs, probably alerted by Tommy yelling and Wilbur’s slightly pissed off voice.
“Hey,” Wilbur took a step toward Tommy, his expression still more confused than angry.
“Wilbur,” Techno’s eyes were darting between the two boys.
The brown-haired man had a silent conversation with his twin before shrugging and turning back toward the door. Tommy instantly scrambled off of the couch and took a step toward him.
“Wait—” he choked.
Don’t leave, please don’t leave. Because if you leave, you won’t come back and where will that leave me?
“Tommy,” Phil had reached the bottom of the steps, his eyes quickly taking in the scene before snapping back toward the boy. “It’s okay. He’ll be back.”
Techno and Wilbur both turned to him with furrowed brows.
“Why wouldn’t I be?” Wilbur looked back toward Tommy.
“He’s just anxious, Wil. Go ahead and go to work, he’ll be okay.”
Wilbur seemed reluctant and stood still as Phil moved toward Tommy. The blond boy flinched back as his foster father approached but darted forward when Phil offered his hands out, allowing himself to lean into the hug.
“You’re okay, kiddo. Nobody’s going anywhere.”
“He’s leaving,” Tommy mumbled into his shirt.
“Only for a few hours.”
He was being clingy and he knew it. Still, he couldn’t make himself stomp out the tight feeling in his chest when he watched Wilbur walk out the door and heard the sound of his car starting. He turned to search for Techno and found him gone as well, immediately jerking against Phil’s hold to look for him.
“It’s okay. I just asked him to go upstairs for a few minutes.”
Tommy sagged against him, tears brimming in the corners of his eyes. He let out an irritated huff and pulled away slightly. “I don’t even know why I feel like this.”
They held him on his bad days and gave him space on the days he asked for it. They didn’t punish him for the simplest mistakes and always gave him a chance to tell his own side of the story. There wasn't even a hint of them planning to abandon him, so he didn't understand why he was suddenly so terrified of it happening.
Phil hummed thoughtfully, his eyes squinting down to look at him. He gave him a gentle smile and ruffled his hair lovingly.
“From what I understand, you might have separation anxiety,” Phil spoke gently, his hands held up as though to appease Tommy’s burning gaze. “It’s okay. If it ever gets too much, you can call for me or Wilbur or Techno and we’ll be at your side in an instant.”
How could that be true? They were both gone.
“I don’t have separation anxiety,” Tommy muttered, turning away and avoiding the gaze of his foster father.
He hummed. “Okay, we will work on that.”
His lip quivered at the sound of his soft tone, wanting to melt into his firm grip.
“We won’t leave you, and we won’t send you back. You’re here to stay for as long as you need—as long as you want.”
The words broke him, shattering his heart into a million pieces that had almost no chance of being put back together. He whipped around and bounded up the stairs, bolting into his room and slamming the door shut behind him. He paced the edges of the room, his hands gripping at his hair while he tried to muffle his sobs.
He might not have said it outright, but Tommy knew Phil was speaking about adoption by the look in his eyes. There were families that had promised him adoption before. He’d had multiple offers and papers at the tips of his fingers, barely out of reach, and he’d managed to fuck it up every time. This was the one house he couldn’t let himself fuck up, because it would completely shatter him. He knew he had allowed himself to get too close, but he didn’t realize how bad it was until he had to leave, because he knew he would have to eventually. No family was stupid enough to actually keep him.
Except, maybe they were.
This family seemed to genuinely like him. They laughed at his terrible jokes and sought him out in times when he would disappear in his room. They treated him like he was already a part of the family, respecting him and trusting him to do the jobs he was given. They held him on his bad days and gave him space on the days he asked for it. They didn’t punish him for the simplest mistakes and always gave him a chance to tell his own side of the story.
There was a knock on the door and Tommy sighed, moving to lean his head against it.
“Hey, Tommy?“ Techno’s soft voice spoke. “Are you okay?”
Tommy hummed.
“I’m here to talk if you want to.”
“Techno,” the blond slowly pulled open the door, his eyes searching the older boy’s. “Would you ever go back on your word? Or would Phil and Wilbur?”
“No?” he seemed taken aback. “If we say something, we usually try to stick to it. You knew that already, didn’t you?”
He shrugged, chewing at his lip anxiously.
“Tommy,” his voice brought the blond’s attention back to him. “Whatever Phil said to you, we want you here and we never plan on tossing you out or leaving you alone. We promise.”
That was a big promise to make, but maybe he was starting to believe it. He would love to finally be able to settle in with a permanent family, especially this one. He would take all the quirks and awkwardness, as well as the soft and understanding moments. He would take all of it and cherish every moment, he decided, as he moved toward the stairs to chat with Phil.
Tommy Innit Watson was officially adopted a few months later.