Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Tommy shot up from his bed, thoughts of betrayal and TNT and Withers running through his mind. How- why did they- they were supposed to be his family, family didn’t- but hadn't he wanted this? He had, he just hadn't expected him to actually...

Before the blonde could spiral into a panic attack, anxiety attack, whatever it was, he suddenly heard a voice from beside him. It shocked him out of his spiralling thoughts, for he hadn’t even seen the person besides him.

“You okay, Toms?”

Looking over to the brunette, Tommy responded from pure habit, before he had proper time to think everything over, “Ghostbur?”
On second thought, that definitely wasn’t Ghostbur. Ghostbur had an echo-y voice, not a human one, and his skin was pale blue, not just straight up pal- that was Wilbur.

“I know I’m pale at all, but you didn’t have to call me a ghost, you gremlin child!”
Wilbur sounded angry, but the big grin across his face suggested that this was only banter. He wasn’t actually mad, good.
That still didn’t explain how Wilbur was here, with him, because Wilbur was dead, Wilbur was a ghost, but he clearly wasn’t!

Wilbur must’ve seen Tommy starting to panic, or he just had really good timing, because he took over the conversation with a soft tone of voice, instead of expecting a response from the out-of-it teen.

“So… Are you okay? You just up and collapsed before, and everyone has been worried.”

Everyone? No one cared about Tommy other than Gh- Wilbur and maybe Tubbo. But even the foundation for those two relationships weren’t exactly… stable, per se.
Especially Wilbur. Their relationship was a right mess, if Tommy had anything to say about it.

This Wilbur didn’t seem to care or know about that , sort of like Ghostbur. But they’d been over this; this was not Ghostbur. This was Wilbur. And Wilbur was dead.

Oh! Tommy figured it out. This was a dream, wasn’t it? That, or the afterlife, but he doubted the latter due to Ghostbur existing.

“I feel fine, big man. How long have I been out for?”

“Oh, uh. Almost a day, I think? I’m not too confident in that, but it’s whatever.”

Tommy hid his surprise. A day? Well, apparently, almost a day, but that wasn’t important. That was quite a long time - then again, it was a dream.

“What’s the date? Year?”

Wilbur raised an eyebrow at the questions, probably thinking Tommy was really, really out of it to ask that.
“Uuh,” Wilbur was saying ‘uh’ a lot, Tommy noticed, “It’s May the 21st, 20XX. It’s the afternoon-”

Tommy choked on air. Of course his brain would bring him back here. This was before he and Wilbur even left for the Dream SMP, so, right now… they all still liked him. Phil, Techno, Wilbur- currently, even if in a dream, they didn’t think of him as a stupid child, as a traitor, as a burden.
Wilbur seemed to panic at his youngest brother just straight up choking on air, even though it posed him no actual threat. He wrapped an arm around Tommy and guided him to sit up.

When he finally finished coughing, Tommy looked at Wilbur. He looked so similar to Wilbur back then, in Pogtopia, when he-

With that thought, Tommy whacked Wilbur’s hand away from him.
And, if Wilbur flinched, then Tommy either didn’t notice or didn’t care.

“Can I go and see the others?”
Tommy asked, voice uncharacteristically small for someone having just forcibly tore his brother from touching him. Tommy tried to justify it in his mind, he was traumatized by Pogtopia Wilbur, so much so that he had gotten addicted to-

“I can bring them here,” Wilbur suggested, with an undertone suggesting that it was either that or nothing. “You shouldn’t be moving about much when you just passed out for almost an entire 24 hours.”

Tommy shrugged in response, not properly registering when Wilbur left the room to get their other two family members.
So, that happened. Tommy didn’t pinch himself - if this truly was a dream, then he didn’t want to wake up before he got to meet Phil and Techno as they used to be, again - but he did the one other thing you can do toi tell if something is a dream… count your fingers!

One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten.

...Okay. He definitely had ten fingers. That was weird, he heard that his brain wasn’t supposed to be able to accurately produce his hands in dreams. But that was fine! There was a mirror in here, too, and Tommy had definitely heard that mirrors absolutely did not work in dreams!

With a sigh, and conveniently ‘forgetting’ that Wilbur told him to not move around much, Tommy stood up and walked over to the mirror in the corner of his room.

It worked fine. When he moved, so did his reflection.
What?

It was a dream. It had to be. It was a dream. It was. But- but it passed every single dream test. With shaking hands, Tommy pinched his arm, and almost started sobbing on the spot as he didn’t wake up.

He should be happy, he should- he was before war, before betrayal, before hatred, but he wasn’t.
All he knew was war, betrayal, hatred. He almost forgot what peace was like. He wanted war, as stupid as it sounded, because that was familiar now, he felt at home in that now, and he didn’t want to be back if it only meant that everything he had ever done, in any war, didn’t matter. If it only meant that, originally, he had no reason to try, adn all of the pain and hurt and death and trauma amounted to absolutely nothing.

He was back at the start.
He didn’t want to be. Tommy knew he’d hardly be able to look at Wilbur without thinking of his insanity, of Ghostbur. He knew he wouldn’t be able to look at Techno or Phil without thinking of the last thing he remembered before being here, of them seeming so carefree, so happy as they bombed and set withers on Manburg.

He knew he wouldn’t be able to stay here without his evident trauma being revealed to his family members. Without trauma from events that no one else remembered, it seemed, judging on Wilbur- he was going to seem insane!

He’d just have to ignore it. He’d just have to hope that they didn’t notice why he never looked them in the eyes - he already knew he wouldn’t be able to - or why he was so jumpy, looking ready for an attack at any moment.

As much as Tommy hated being back, if he really was back in time, he was going to stop Wilbut from going to the Dream SMP.
Maybe he liked wars, maybe he missed the thrill of fighting hand-to-hand, but it wasn’t worth it. It wasn’t worth it to let history repeat itself, to have one family member deceased and the other two hating him.

Maybe he could let them make L’manburg and change it from there… no! There were too many risks to do with that!

Tommy groaned, too many thoughts going through his mind all at once. He just felt so stressed. He’d hardly been here and met his family again, in a time before war, and he already had to think about what he wanted to change.
Distantly, he wondered if the Tommy that was supposed to be here had wandered into the future. Then he reconsidered, remembering that he was pretty sure he was dead before ending up here.

Before he could contemplate his very existence once more, a monotone voice sounded out from behind him.
“And what are you doing out of bed, nerd? I thought Wilbur told you to stay in bed.”

Tommy whipped round to face none other than The Blade himself, leant against the doorway, and raising an eyebrow at him. The teenager accidentally made eye contact, and instantly regretted it. He had never looked away from something faster.
As he expected, seeing Techno again triggered memories he’d rather keep hidden. The two separate times he spawned withers on Manburg. The second time, with Phil. They both seemed so content to destroy the nation that Wilbur and Tommy had worked for.

Though, Wilbur had tried to destroy it, too.
He was too far gone, he was in the wrong. Technoblade and Phil weren’t insane. They did that in their right minds, the bastards.

As Tommy registered movement from Techno from the corner of his eye, he realised he had taken too long to respond. He tried to respond with the same energy he remembered having around this time of his life.
“Yeah… Yeah, he did. And I didn’t listen, because I’m not a child!”

Techno didn’t seem to buy it, judging by the strange expression on the other’s face, but it was close enough, Tommy decided, when the other didn’t say anything.

“Wasn’t Phil supposed to come along, too? I imagined that Wilbur would come back, too…”

“Phil is outside, Wilbur went to get him. They’ll be here soon. Though, if I may ask;” Techno didn’t wait for actual permission, as usual,
“When did you start calling Dad Phil? You never call him by his real name, Tommy.”

Tommy’s name was spoken with a sort of suspicion, as if Techno knew something was up.

Well, he was screwed.
He just stared Techno in the face, never quite meeting his eyes - arguably more suspicious than forming a response.

He was scared he’d accidentally let the other know too much, if he spoke, so he didn’t risk it. Yeah, it would cause major suspicion, but that was better than outing himself when he’d hardly been here. Wasn’t it?
Suddenly, he wasn’t so sure. Maybe they would actually believe him if he told them of his little predicament, but he didn’t want to push his luck more than he already had.

Besides- even if he did tell them and they believed him, they’d baby him. He didn’t want that. Therefore, everything pointed towards not telling Techno, or anyone for that matter.

So, he didn’t. He kept his mouth shut.

Techno opened his mouth to say something, anything, concern leaking into his expression, but he was (luckily) interrupted by Wilbur and Phil making their return.

“We’re here!”
The pair heard Wilbur before they saw him. When they did see him, he was dragging Phil by his wrist into the room, the eldest of whom offered Tommy a small smile upon seeing him.

Wilbur, however, gasped dramatically.

“Tommy! I told you to stay in bed-”
Tommy froze as Wilbur reached out to him, likely just to force him back into bed, but it reminded him of that, of- of Pogtopia, when Wilbur would…
Surprisingly, it was Wilbur who flinched away. As soon as their skin touched, the other drew back in the blink of an eye, looking almost disturbed.

“Wilbur..? What’s wrong, mate?”
It was Phil who asked, in the end, as Techno was eyeing Tommy even more suspiciously, now, and Tommy was trying to figure out exactly why Wilbur had reacted like that. Maybe, Wilbur had noticed how uncomfortable Tommy was with it - but if that were the case, why did Wilbur himself seem so disturbed by it?

Tommy couldn’t come up with a realistic answer, so he waited for Willbur to answer Phil’s question. If he recalled correctly from about this time in his life, Wilbur always answered Phil.
(He only remembered that because, as a young teenager he had been very bitter that Wilbur would respond to Phil, and not him.)

“I, uh- I’m fine. It’s nothing… Tommy is just really warm, y’know? I think he might be sick…”

“Well, thats a fuckin’ lie.” the blond mumbled to himself, grinning sheepishly once he saw the other three glare at him. Okay, they clearly weren’t happy with him saying that, but it was the truth!
“It’s true- I don’t feel warm. I’m not sick!”

Phil sighed, though a gentle smile stayed upon his lips. Tommy wasn’t sure if it was only for show or not.
“Toms, even if you don’t feel warm, or sick, you still should get some rest. You just randomly passed out, so something is obviously wrong-”

“Well, if Wilbur is correct, I was out for about a day, right?”

Phil nodded slowly, seemingly confused as to where Tommy was planning to take this.

“Well then! I’d say 24 hours in much longer than the needed 8 hours of sleep per day, so-” Tommy walked over to the door, stopping at the doorway and pretending he couldn’t feel the other’s eyes on him, “-I’d say I’m perfectly well rested! Cya!”

With that, he darted out of the room, ignoring Phil’s startled call of “Tommy-!” as he ran down the hall. He wasn’t sure exactly where he was supposed to go, since they were currently in his room, the one place he’d usually go to.
It’d feel a lot like intruding were he to go into someone else’s room, and there was no use in hiding because they’d find him eventually anyway, so he decided to simply go to the living room. And refuse to leave, if they tried to get him to go to bed again.

As he entered the living room, he sighed. It looked just like it always had before he and Wilbur left for the SMP, and Tommy wasn’t sure what he had been expecting.

He knew, deep down, part of him still wanted to pretend that this was a dream, or a prank. His biggest wish, ever, was for people to see his point of view. And now, in the past, nobody even knew what he’d gone through, nevermind why he thought what he did!
It was incredibly jarring, to say the least.

With a deep breath, he sat on one of the two couches in the room. He sat where he remembered he used to always sit, the spot next to the one Wilbur had proclaimed as his own.
God, as a child, he really had been attached to Wilbur, hadn’t he?

Speaking of Wilbur, Tommy could hear him talking to the other two members of their family in his room.
Well, maybe hear was a stretch- he could tell Wilbur was talking, from the tone of voice and accent, but he couldn’t actually hear what he was saying.

Techno responded with something, then Phil said something short and suddenly someone was leaving his room and walking towards the living room. He wondered whether Techno had told the other two about what happened before they walked in.
Tommy sure hoped not. He could deal with one family member suspicious of him, but definitely not all three of them. He’d just have a mental breakdown, he was already on the verge of having one.

“Hey.”
Tommy blinked, looking towards the doorway to his pink-haired brother.
“What you doing, nerd?”

It took Tommy quite a bit of effort to not just beg Techno to tell the others about what happened earlier; it would be useless anyway. If his brother planned on telling them, he already would’ve done so, in which case it would’ve been too late to do anything anyway, unless he could time travel to his will. That’d be cool, actually, but he knew he couldn’t.

“I’m just thinking,” he decided to say, instead, looking away, though he didn’t waste time to ask what he really wondered afterwards, “did you tell them?”

“Hah?... Oh. That. No, no I didn’t say anything. Why?”

“Just curious. Why are you here, anyway? Figured Wil or Phil would’ve followed me, but not you.”

Techno seemed to know that the first part was a lie, but by some miracle he decided not to mention it.
“I told ‘em I’d convince you to get some rest. That they couldn't be there for it-”

“If you blackmail me with me being suspicious I am going to murder you.”
Tommy almost got whiplash from how quick he turned to look at Techno, who looked rather surprised at the out of place threat.

Well, it wasn’t the threat that was out of the place, but the fact that he sounded rather serious while he said it.

“I wasn’t planning on,” Tommy brightened, “BUT. I do want you to explain what’s been going on with you. “

“I will. When I’m ready…”
Also known as: he was going to pretend he didn’t say that, and hope that Techno forgot about it.

His brother rolled his eyes, already knowing this tactic.
“You aren’t getting out of this one. You have a week. That should be more than enough time, right?”

“Hardly…”
Tommy cursed under his breath. A week. Would he really be ready, then?
He might have to be, if Techno kept to his word. Maybe he could just be really, really vague when explaining to him. Hopefully his brother would accept it. He knew he wouldn’t.
“But, fine. If you don’t plan to drag me back to bed, what are you going to say to Wilbur and Ph-... Dad?”

Grinning, Techno hummed.
“You opposed to hanging out with Tubbo?”

Tommy’s back almost instantly straightened. Tubbo! Before he… died… they’d at least been acquaintances. In his timeline(?), he never found out what happened to Tubbo in the end. Even if this wasn’t his Tubbo, seeing a Tubbo intact would help calm him a bit.

Perhaps he could tell Tubbo about everything, he considered briefly, but the idea was dismissed as soon as it appeared. He couldn’t drag Tubbo into this. He dragged Tubbo into way too much, in his timeline. He… wouldn’t do that, this timeline.

“I’m not, in fact. But, how would I get changed? Or leave? Without them noticing?”

Techno pointed to his clothes, and Tommy looked down at what he was wearing. Oh.
He was already in casual clothes, which made sense, if you thought about it, which solved his first problem, but not the second.

“The other?” Tommy prompted.

Techno shrugged.
“They shouldn’t notice, they’re still in your room. I’ll tell them I saw you running off to Tubbo’s and couldn’t be bothered to follow you, or something.”

“That’ll work?”

“I dunno. I hope so.”

Tommy chuckled, “You are so unreliable, Techno.”

“I don’t see you complainin’. You got everything you need?”

“I don’t need anything, big man!” Tommy faltered, walking towards the front door, “.,. Asides from shoes.”

Techno seemed amused, following close behind Tommy as he got to the door and put his shoes on. The teenager stood up, opening the door and glancing back to Techno before leaving.
“You got this covered?”

Techno huffed.
“I have it all covered. I’m just that cool. Now go, have fun, before one of the others drags you back in by your ear.”

Tommy got ready to run out the door, but not before saying one last thing.
“Cya, Techno. Thank you.”

With that, Tommy legged it away from the house. After he was a decent way away, he slowed to a walk.
To Tubbo’s house it was!

Chapter Text

Tommy walked through the streets, trying not to let his mind wander too much. Instead of thinking of his current predicament, he found it a fine distraction to try and make sure he remembered the way to Tubbo’s house after all these years.

His memory of the way wasn’t bad, he supposed, it was better than he’d expected. When he finally reached Tubbo’s house, he felt almost disappointed - he had been enjoying his walk in the warm sun, actually.

Well, he and Tubbo would probably stay outside, too, so it wouldn't be a complete loss.

Either way, now, outside of his best friend’s door, he hesitated. What if Tubbo noticed something was wrong, too, and babied him in the same way his family had been trying to before he left? Did Tubbo even know about him passing out for almost a full day? Did he even care?

“Tommy..?”

The blond looked up, startled from his thought process. There was the very same person he had just been worrying about meeting - Tubbo. The brunette was wrapped up in a blanket, seemingly still in pajamas.
Blinking for a few seconds, he judged that Tubbo was waiting for some sort of response from him, whether that be an explanation, a question, just anything.

“Oh. Uh. How’d you know I was out here?”

“I saw you! From out my window,” Tubbo motioned upwards, and Tommy’s eyes followed the motion to a window on the second floor of the house. So he did.
“Why were you just standing out here, then?”

“I was going to knock, but you didn’t give me a chance-”

“I could hear you overthinking through the door.”

Had Tubbo always been so… observant? Blunt? Maybe he had been, and Tommy just hadn’t noticed because back in this time he never seemed to have any problems for Tubbo to point out.

“No you couldn’t, don’t be stupid…”
Tommy trailed off, looking away. At this rate, everyone would know what was happening even before Techno’s stupid one week deadline! He had to act more… like himself.
“That’s not why I’m here, anyway! I was wondering if you’d want to go and hang out somewhere, maybe that field near here.”

There was a short silence, before Tommy heard retreating footsteps and looked up to Tubbo seeming to go back into the house, except he left the door wide open.

“Hey-! Where are you going?!”

Tubbo paused, and looked back at the question.
“I’m going to get changed so we can go and hang out, of course! Wait right there!”
And then, the older of the two was off.

With a sigh, Tommy leaned against the front of the house to wait for Tubbo. He’d have to try and figure out how to act more like himself from this time. Before he got ‘ruined’ by war and betrayal and everything else.

How even had he acted around this time? He was very energetic, he was sure, and he swore a lot, he also wasn’t so on edge with everything and seemed to make everything some sort of joke.
Now, he always seemed to feel tired, not very enthusiastic at all, he still swore a bunch, he was constantly on edge, even seemed to sleep with one eye open, and jokes didn’t come as easily to him anymore.

No wonder Techno noticed something was up in the first five seconds, actually. He’d have to be extremely, extremely careful from now on if he didn’t want to-

“Tommy!”

Tommy nearly jumped out of his skin. It was just like Tubbo to interrupt him halfway through his deep thought process, but he didn’t exactly mind. It kept him from spiralling into more unhealthy thoughts, so it was the sort of thing he needed.

He turned his head to the other teenager, who was absolutely beaming.
“Tubbo, big man. Lets go?”

Tubbo nodded, taking the lead with a spring in his step. Tommy followed, unbothered by the other taking the lead. He hoped the other would start some sort of conversation, because Tommy himself had long since ran dry on conversation topics.

Luckily, it seemed the other did, indeed, know how to start a conversation - albeit a bland one.

“Hey- hey Tommy. What have you been doing recently?”

“Not much, really,” Tommy had to physically stop himself from rolling his eyes at the bland conversation topic, but it wasn’t like he had any better ideas so he went along with it, “I passed out the other day, apparently. Don’t remember it though, I think I might’ve got brain damage, which sucks. I guess.”

“Don’t worry; I don’t think you can get any stupider, so no one will notice the difference!”
Tubbo joked, though Tommy could see in his eyes that the other was more interested in the topic than he was letting on.

“You-” Tommy made a point of crossing his arms dramatically, to look angrier than he actually was, “How dare you! I thought we were friends, and then you do me dirty like this…”

Tubbo sped up his pace, then walked in front of Tommy and began walking backwards, to properly be facing the blond.
“Awe, Toms, I didn’t mean it.”

“I know, Tubbo, don’t fret, I wasn’t actually offended, dumbass.” he snickered in response.

“Okay then, nevermind, I’m not sorry, I hate you so much.”
Turning around on his heels, Tubbo then ran away at full speed. Tommy would’ve been worried had he not seen the slight smile on Tubbo’s face before he ran off.

With a giggle, Tommy shook his head, before getting ready and running after his friend. As he ran, he realised that Tubbo was somehow faster than him - and he, himself, was gaining little to no ground on his friend.
He could’ve sworn he was faster than this, that he didn’t get tired this quickly before. And as soon as he realised that it was because he hadn’t yet had the exercise that was going to war and fleeing several times over in the current time, he cursed under his breath. He hoped he’d get to the field soon.

Actually- he wondered if Tubbo had done that just to get to the field faster, tired with the slow pace they had previously been walking at. He wouldn’t put it above Tubbo, that’s for sure, he thought, as he finally reached the field, panting and out of breath.

Tommy didn’t spot his run away friend eventually, but when he did he chuckled at the sight of the other laying down in the grass. Maybe Tubbo regretted running all that way, too, though knowing Tubbo, he probably didn’t.
Sluggishly, he walked over and flopped down next to his friend, who gave a small smile at him.

“There are bees here.” Tubbo pointed out, simply, sitting up.

“There are always bees here at this time of year, unless my memory is faulty.”
Tommy didn’t move.
“It’s not exactly revolutionary.”

With a pout, Tubbo shook his head.
“So mean. Really, I should’ve just left you behind.”

“Well,” sitting up too, Tommy grinned, “sucks to suck, I guess.”

“Hey!”

At first, Tommy had figured that it’d be awkward without a conversation topic and nothing specific to do - it always had been back in the wars - but, it turned out, silence with Tubbo was more along the lines of a comfortable silence, not an awkward one.
It was nice, Tommy thought. It was warm with but a slight breeze, and the silence was so peaceful that he wasn’t sure that even the old him would want to break it. He knew for sure that his current self didn’t want to break it, so he supposed what his past self would’ve done didn’t matter right now.

Tubbo was busying himself by watching the bees on the field, unsurprisingly, and he absolutely beamed whenever one or two would come over to check him out in return.

Tommy,on the other hand, had spotted the sheer amount of flowers in the clearing (daisies, mostly, but he wasn’t complaining), and immediately decided that the only logical thing to do from there was to make a flower crown or two.

He hadn’t made them in so long, he relied quite a bit on muscle memory for it. And, though a bit shabby, he did succeed in making one, and that was good enough standard for Tommy. In another life, he might’ve called it a waste of time, but right there, right then, he was just glad that maybe… Maybe he’d finally get a chance to be a kid again. Once he stopped Wilbur from leaving, that was, and God he was going to stop Wilbur from leaving if it cost him one of his lives.

He shook his head.
Not now. That wasn’t a now-worry, that was a later-worry. The only thing to be concerned about right now was interacting with Tubbo, and that wasn’t really very concerning at all.

“Hey, Tubbs.”

Tubbo turned his head round to face Tommy, puffing his cheeks out to feign annoyance at the nickname. He opened his mouth to comment, but before he got the chance Tommy had already reached over and placed the flower crown on the other’s head, and then proceeded to get ready for some sort of teasing for making something as childish as a flower crown.

Instead, he watched Tubbo reach up and take it off to examine what exactly it was, looking overjoyed once he saw it. He quickly put it back on his head and addressed it,
“Can you teach me how to make one?”

That wasn’t teasing, was the first thing Tommy registered as he looked back towards his friend. He seemed very happy about the crown, was the second. The third was that he asked Tommy to teach him how to make them.

Well, he should’ve expected that from Tubbo, nice as he was, he wouldn’t ever mock Tommy for making something like that. His brothers, however, would, and even before his death he was more used to their mocking than he was Tubbo’s kindness, so that’s how he justified his thought process.

“Uh- I can do, yeah, if you really want.”

“I do!”

Tommy picked up four nearby daisies, and held them up for Tubbo to see. He put two in each of his hands, and held one of them out for Tubbo to take. He took them without question, looking very confused.

“Look at what I do, and repeat.”

He took one of the daisies, and held it so the stem was pointing upwards. He placed the second one in his lap, and Tubbo mirrored it. Then, focusing more, he made a hole in the stem of the daisy he was holding with one of his nails. Then, he picked up the other, previously discarded one, and put it through the hole he’d just made in the other one.
Then, he put a hole in the one he just added, then picked another daisy and put it through there, to explain how to expand the flower crown properly.

When he looked up to Tubbo, the other seemed to be struggling a bit with it. He was holding a daisy, the other in his lap still. After a few seconds of watching the other struggle to put a hole in the first daisy, Tommy realised the problem.

Tubbo had bitten nails. Which made the task significantly harder, if not impossible.

“... Oh.”

Tubbo just looked ashamed, which made Tommy feel extremely bad. He did have an idea, though, a sort of compromise, if you will.

“Don’t worry, I have an idea.” Tubbo looked up at that, raising an eyebrow, “What if we did it as a team effort? I can put the holes in the daisy stems, and you can put them together..?”

Tommy was initially very nervous as to what the other would think of the idea, but luckily the other seemed to brighten up at the suggestion, which made Tommy happy too. But the blond would never, ever admit that.

So, Tommy put a hole in the third Daisy of his and handed it to Tubbo, while Tubbo handed his two daisies to Tommy, who put holes in them, passed them back, and then picked more daisies to put holes in and pass off to Tubbo.
Their fingers brushed once or twice, but Tubbo didn’t seem to mind - not in the way Wilbur had, when he violently flinched away from Tommy’s touch. A part of him settled down a little at that, it meant that Tommy himself hadn’t done anything to make Wilbur uncomfortable, probably.

That aside- eventually, Tubbo closed the flower crown. It was starting to get dark, which Tommy found weird, then remembered that it was likely that he hadn’t woken up in the morning, exactly, because of the whole passing out thing.

“It’s done, then. We did it.” Tommy pointed out, just to be sure.

“It is,” Tubbo nodded, reaching up and placing the newly-made flower crown onto Tommy’s head, “Now we match!”

And Tubbo seemed so childishly happy about something as small as having matching daisy flower crowns, that he couldn’t bring himself to even tease the other. He wasn’t going to ruin the delicate sunset, the delicate bonding that hadn’t happened in so long - to Tommy, at least, it probably hadn’t been that long to Tubbo - and was happening now.

So he didn't move, didn’t say anything, didn’t risk ruining everything that had led up to this, and let Tubbo seamlessly continue it instead. Tubbo had always been good at that sort of thing.

“Before we go, can we go up there?” he asked, pointing to a nearby hill. And almost as if sensing the question on the tip of Tommy’s tongue, he continued, “The sun is setting soon. It looks better from up there.”

Without waiting for an answer, likely because he already knew what Tommy’s answer was going to be, or maybe he just didn’t care, he set off towards the hill he had pointed at. Tommy followed like a loyal puppy, repeating in his head about how, no, he wasn’t the clingy one, that was Tubbo.

Climbing up the hill itself wasn’t difficult - it was a hill, not a mountain, it wasn’t steep - and even if it were, Tommy would reckon the climb would be worth it just for the view that was watching the sun set from higher ground. Tubbo was already there when Tommy got up, and he patted the grass next to him as a silent invitation.
A silent invitation that Tommy took, walking over and sitting next to Tubbo in silence as they observed the dance of the warm colours that roamed the sky.

It was almost poetic, sitting on a hill with matching flower crowns as the sun set, but Tommy never was one for literature.

But all good things must come to an end. As it got darker, Tubbo said that it was time to head back. That it must've been pretty late.
Tommy agreed, reluctantly, parting ways with Tubbo and returning to his own home. When he got back, Wilbur and Techno were already asleep (or at least in their rooms) and Phil simply wished Tommy a good night before turning in too.

Chapter Text

To be frank, Tommy felt dead when he woke up again, and for a second he entertained the thought of going back all being a dream, but then he heard voices from downstairs and shook away the thought almost as soon as it appeared.

It was real.
But that was the problem, wasn’t it? It was real, and he had been treating it like his choices wouldn’t follow through.

In six days, he’d actually have to give Techno some sort of answer as to what was happening, preferably without having a breakdown. This wasn’t some safe haven, the past was better than the wars but even it wasn’t perfect.

Why had he been so stupid? As soon as he told Techno, Techno would tell the other and they’d think him insane and then- then he’d be sent to one of those mental health places or something, and probably stay there until he died, knowing his luck thus far.
What was he supposed to tell Techno, anyway? ‘Oh, yeah, by the way, about how I’m acting weird… I’m actually from the future, but you and Phil killed me and now I’m in the past!’?

That’d go horribly, if he tried that!

Not to mention he still needed to actually stop Wilbur from leaving for the Dream SMP. That’d be an easier feat if he remembered the exact date they left, but he didn’t. Back in L’Manburg and Pogtopia, no one ever seemed to bother with celebrations. Well, while he was in exile, apparently there was something called the L’Mantree (or was it just Mantree, without the L? It was Manburg at the time, after all) and he was pretty sure it was something for Christmas.

And they hadn’t even let him out of exile, then…

But that was all water under the bridge, Tommy supposed, no one here actually remembered that and so he couldn’t hold it against them. They were different people, really, after the wars. So was Tommy, that much he, himself, could tell, even without Techno pointing it out within about five minutes of him existing.

Tommy took a deep breath. He could figure it out. He would figure it out, if he had anything to say about it. (He did).
It’d be decently easy to stop Wilbur from going and solve all of their problems, anyway, all he had to do was tell Wilbur to not go to the Dream SMP… Then again, Wilbur likely wouldn’t just stop all of his plans just because Tommy said so, Tommy would be questioned on why, and that was if it went well. And it going south was uncomfortably likely, with how stubborn Wilbur could be.

Say, if Tommy had a mental breakdown, would that convince Wilbur? But even that wasn’t foolproof - well, it sort of was guaranteed to work, but showing such a weakness was literally the last thing Tommy wanted to do right now, because once he started crying he just might not stop, embarrassing as it was.

Before he could continue thinking over what to do, soft footsteps approached his doorway.
“You awake, mate?” Phil spoke in a quiet tone, just in case Tommy wasn’t awake.

Tommy responded with a mumble of sorts, that maybe resembled some sort of words in another universe, eliciting a chuckle from Phil, who didn’t seem to want to force him up.

“Alright. There’s toast downstairs, if you want it, but if you don’t have it soon I think Techno’s already called dibs,” when Tommy sat up at that, he saw Phil wore a gentle smile, looking almost as tired as Tommy felt. “Oh. By the way, Wilbur and Techno want to ask you about something.”

That was worrying, Tommy decided, standing up and stretching.
“Do you know what they’re gonna ask? Or am I just gonna be left in suspense?”

“It’s nothing serious, don’t worry,” Phil reassured, as if he could read minds, before actually answering his question, “I think they’re planning to spar with each other. They were wondering if you’d join them, if I’m not mistaken.”

Tommy hummed in response, not saying anything.

“Well, I’ll leave you to it-”
Were Phil’s parting words to Tommy, as he left and closed Tommy’s door behind him.

For a moment, he just stood in his room, still. After a deep breath, he gathered himself enough to actually comprehend living.
Phil had been gentle just then, it seemed, and Tommy wasn’t sure what to make of that. Maybe his… father had always been like that, and he just hadn’t recalled after how harsh everyone had been in the wars.
He didn’t feel comfortable calling Phil his dad anymore, he realised - ever since Techno had pointed out him calling Phil by his real name, instead of calling him ‘dad’, Tommy just hadn’t addressed him, because he hadn’t needed to. He’d keep avoiding addressing Phil if he could, he knew it’d hurt the man if Tommy called him Phil, it’d make him think the teenager was angry or something, but Tommy just, really wasn’t ready for that after the circumstances of his death.

But now wasn’t the time to contemplate his deep rooted trauma, if it were up to him it’d never be time to contemplate it, he needed to hurry up and get downstairs already. Getting changed into some casual clothes, he practically ran downstairs and into the kitchen, where a couple of things stood out to Tommy; first, there was some toast on the table, obviously his, so Techno hadn’t eaten his after all, and second, Wilbur was sitting at the table. Alone.
He looked up once Tommy entered, and looked rather awkward.

“Oh! Hey Tommy. Techno and Dad are in the living room, if you were wondering, you can go and join them if you’d like-!”

The words felt rushed, like Wilbur was scared, nervous, or both.

“Wil, I know that I’m a big man, but surely I’m not so scary as to make you act like this. So,” Tommy sat at the seat that his toast was in front of, which was opposite where Wilbur was currently sat, “tell me what’s wrong. It’s… It’s worrying, having you act like this. You’re never like this.”

Tommy, arguably, sounded just as nervous as Wilbur, with how he stumbled over his words quite a bit, but Wilbur didn’t appear to care. His eyes widened, and he looked arguably shocked, and Tommy understood. The Tommy this Wilbur knew would never do that, he’d most likely just leave without question, too awkward to actually try and fix anything himself.
He was not the Tommy that this Wilbur knew.

“I just. I wanted to say that ‘m sorry.”
Averting his eyes, Wilbur continued, while Tommy began to eat one of his pieces of toast.
“For, uh, you know. Yesterday. In general. For trying to force you back in bed and saying that you seemed sick when you didn’t, not at all-”

To stop the rambling, Tommy held up a hand, in a ‘stop’ sort of motion. Wilbur stopped, and Tommy finished the part he was eating before responding.

“It’s fine, Wil… Wilby,” His Wilbur had seemed very happy to tease Tommy about calling him that and he could only hope that this Wilbur was similar in that regard, but it was a shot in the dark, considering his Wilbur’s mental state when Tommy called him that.
“I’m curious, though. If I didn’t seem sick, which I already knew, but if even you admit that I didn’t, why did you flinch back from me so aggressively?”

Wilbur stilled.

Oh no. Oh no.
His wilbur had only stilled when Tommy had said something wrong, when he had stepped out of line and was going to be yelled at for something, anything- why did he even try to help Wilbur, he should’ve left this Wilbur here and just gone to Techno and Phil, he could trust them-

But could he?

If he was basing how trustworthy these people were by his versions of them, by their future selves, then Phil and Techno were just as untrustworthy, if not more untrustworthy, than he was considering Wilbur to be.

No one in this house could be trusted. He had to leave. He had to go to Tubbo or somewhere, anywhere, just not here. He had to-

“Tommy!”

Tommy nearly jumped out of his skin, staring back at Wilbur. He yelled, he did exactly what he expected, but Wilbur didn’t look angry, he looked concerned, and his Wilbur never looked like that when he was yelling- his Wilbur always looked absolutely livid, ready to slice Tommy’s head off for the slightest mistake, the slightest wrong move, he-

“Hey, hey,”
Wilbur was beside him now. When did Wilbur get beside him? He hadn’t even seen the other move. His hands were on Tommy’s shoulders (but it wasn’t skin contact. Why did no one ever touch him. WHY-). Was he going to get hit? He didn’t have any resistance pots with him, if he got hit right now he’d just curl up into a ball on the floor and cry, probably.
“Breathe with me.”

Breathe? Breathe.
Tommy could do that. He could breathe. Breathing was easy, wasn’t it? In, out, in, out. But he couldn’t match Wilbur’s breaths, the teen’s were faster, surely Wilbur would get mad, then-

“Okay. Not perfect, but better.”
Tommy stared on in confusion.
“You, you panicked, I think. Spaced out and you suddenly started breathing really fast. I didn’t know what to do so I yelled to try and get your attention but that just seemed to make it worse-”

“It’s fine. It’s fine, Wilbur. I’m fine.Can we just… never talk about this, ever again?”

Wilbur nodded. He looked to the door that connected the living room and the kitchen.
“Want to go and sit with Techno and Dad?”

“Yeah… Yeah, let's do that.”

Tommy never got the answer to his question, he realised. He wasn’t sure if Wilbur actually answered or not, so he didn’t ask.

Once they entered, Phil and Techno looked to them curiously. They were both sat in the seats they had proclaimed as their own, as usual, what must’ve only been a couple of years back for them, but was what felt like centuries ago for Tommy.

Tommy and Wilbur both went to their respective places, ignoring the stares of the other two. If they wouldn’t directly ask anything, then they didn’t have any sort of obligation to answer - not that they had an obligation to answer anyway, really, but right then they could just pretend the were stupid enough to not notice the unspoken questions.

“So,” Techno was the one to actually question, of course he was, when wasn’t it Techno? “What was with that yell earlier, Wilbur?”

Wilbur, by some miracle, must’ve been some sort of god at acting, because his lie would’ve been foolproof, if Techno didn’t already know just a tad more about the entire story than the other two did.

Tommy stopped listening after that, he just stared blankly at the others while they did what they did best - quarreling. Not serious, of course, it was rare for something for that to happen simply because of who exactly they were. All of them injected at least a drop of humor into absolutely everything, and it helped keep tensions down, for the most part, and made home a safe space.

… For the others. Tommy still couldn’t look at anyone in the eyes, couldn’t have anything remind him too much of the future that he was in without having - What even was that? A panic attack?
Without panicking, let’s say,and that was proven with Wilbur. This Wilbur, past Wilbur, had done something that he recognised from his Wilbur, Pogtopia Wilbur, and he panicked. He panicked and jumped to conclusions about all the rest of his family, too, when he had already said to himself that what happened in the future should not influence what he thinks of the now. He could still change things, now.

It’d be very useful if one of the things he could change was his trauma, but evidently not. He doubted he could heal from it well, either, not without letting his family know what was wrong to some extent, and he didn’t want to do that.
Techno didn’t count, either, he wouldn’t be ready to explain what was happening to him by the end of the time limit he was given, and he knew his brother would likely force it out of him if it was the last thing he did.

Maybe- maybe Tommy could confide in Tubbo. Tubbo was his age, and might actually believe him! But then again, Tubbo would be so angry at himself for doing what he did in the future to Tommy, and telling him might mess up the delicate bond he made with Tubbo at the field.

The field… He put the daisy flower crown that he and Tubbo made on his bedside table, and it already looked a bit like it was starting to die out. It made Tommy sad, but he noted down in his head that maybe he should get some fake daisies or something to make a flower crown out of, so they wouldn’t die. But then again- would his nails even be able to make a hole in… whatever it was that fake flowers were made from?

Maybe he could ask Tubbo, Tubbo always seemed to know a bunch of random stuff, Tommy could only hope he was knowledgeable on fake flowers and such, too.

When Tommy zoned back in, Wilbur and Techno were looking at him expectantly, and Phil looked a mix of curious and just plain amused.

“... Sorry, what? I wasn’t listening, ‘cos you’re all so boring, you know.”

Techno made a show of rolling his eyes, “Yeah, of course, child. We asked if you’d like to go sparring with me and Wilbur.”

Ah, so Phil had been right about that, after all. They were, in fact, going sparring and inviting him. There was an odd number of them, though, and Tommy only pondered that for a moment before realising that, if Tommy agreed, Wilbur would most likely just sit and watch instead of doing anything.

“When?”

“Next week, obviously.” Techno deadpanned, looking only mildly amused, following it up with, “Today.”

Tommy flushed, despite that not being what he meant anyway. He had meant what time, but he didn’t bother to correct himself in fear of embarrassing himself further. Whenever the others started getting ready, Tommy would get ready too: that was the plan.

Wilbur stood from his spot, stretching.
“I’d best get ready then.”
And then he left, leaving a sort of confused Tommy.

“We’re sparring now?”

“No, Tommy, I told you, we’re sparring next wee-”

“Okay, okay! I get it!”

Techno mumbled what could’ve been a goodbye to Phil, or maybe it was just gibberish, Tommy didn’t know. Why would he?
Either way, when Techno left the room, Tommy was quick to follow. He didn’t say a goodbye to Phil, himself, because Tommy didn’t want to and didn’t know what he’d say even if he did. He could descend into a full on internal rant about why different ways of saying goodbye to Phil wouldn’t work, but luckily he didn’t.

Together they went to the front door, and Techno glanced back to Tommy and paused.
“You don’t have anything else to do before leaving like Wilbur, too?”

The teenager shook his head. He was changed, already, and he didn’t exactly see what else he could possibly need to bring, assuming…
“You have the training swords?”

“Yeah,” Techno, for once, didn’t respond with blatant sarcasm, gesturing to three wooden swords leant against the doorway, that Tommy hadn’t noticed before, “I got three in hopes that maybe we can get Wilbur to actually spar, for once, but I’m pretty sure you already know how that’ll go.”

With a sigh, “He’ll use me as an out, Techno. Why do you let him get away with that all the time? He’ll never, ever spar, at this rate.”

Techno let out a breathy laugh, simply shaking his head in response as if that answered absolutely everything, when in reality it answered absolutely nothing. He reached down and put on some boots, before standing back up, taking the three training swords, and looking expectantly at Tommy.

It took a few moments for Tommy to realise what Techno was expecting of him, but when he did he rushed to get his trainers on, trying to ignore the not-so-subtle laugh that Techno let out at the franticness of it all.
When he stood back up to his full height, he noted that Wilbur was coming downstairs, having finished doing… whatever it was that he had been doing, up there. But, instead of going to get his own shoes on, Wilbur walked towards the living room.

He took pause upon seeing Techno’s rather confused - or, confuzzled, as Tommy called it in his head - look, and took to explaining himself.
“I need to talk to Dad about something. You two go on ahead, I’ll meet you in a minute.”
And then he was gone, going into the front room.

Tommy redirected to Techno, who he gave a raised eyebrow to. Techno shrugged, before offering one of the training swords to Tommy. He took it without question, and followed Techno when he walked down the hallway and towards where the back door was.
Part of Tommy was a little disappointed that they weren't going to the field that he and Tubbo had met up at, but he reasoned to himself that that was a bit far away just to spar, when sparring sessions could end up not even being that long.

When Techno walked to the backyard, Tommy, again, followed.

The older chucked one of the sparring swords to one corner of the backyard, then turned to Tommy while preparing to fight.

“Wait, what? We’re just straight up- fighting? Isn’t this supposed to be a lesSO-”
Tommy’s voice pitched up in surprise as Techno rushed at him. He angled his sword to parry the blow, but he wasn’t that strong so their swords just stayed pressed against each other’s, both trying to force the other’s sword away.

“I need to see if you’ve gone rusty, it’s been a while.”
Techno explained, voice not faltering, somehow not losing focus as he explained.
“... Also, I sort of just want to beat you in a fight.”

As Techno pressed harder onto his training sword and forced it to the side, Tommy stumbled back. Techno took the chance to advance, redirecting the force he used to move Tommy’s sword into swinging a blow at his side.

Tommy was not strong, however he was fast, and managed to jump backwards in time for the blow to just barely miss his stomach. Both were stunned by that, so, for a second, no one moved.

Then Tommy charged, bringing his sword upwards to, hypothetically, hit Techno’s skull. Techno, on the other hand, brought his body downwards. Then, once they were in range of one another-

Techno brought up his leg, faster than Tommy had time to properly comprehend, and kicked Tommy in the stomach, sending him to the floor. Tommy’s sword fell out of his hand, and the other made sure to kick it out of reach before towering over Tommy and pointing his wooden training sword at his neck.

Swallowing, Tommy stared on. It felt all too familiar, all too much like the several wars he’d been through, except it was absolutely nothing like that because Techno wasn’t going to kill him, and no one’s lives were on the line here, a nation wasn’t on the line here, it was just- a fun fight.

A ghost of a smile formed on Techno’s face as moved his sword away and offered Tommy his free hand to help him get up.
“If you wish to defeat me, train for another hundred years.”

Chapter Text

Tommy took the offered hand, using it to help him get up. Techno didn’t flinch back, exactly, he couldn’t, really, when Tommy was holding his hand to support himself, but the blond made sure to note the confused look on his brother’s face as he drew back his hand as soon as possible without dropping the teenager.
It was better than flinching back, but he still wanted to ask about it. Before he could, though, he was interrupted by… clapping?

He turned his head towards the sound, only to find Wilbur and Phil - when had Phil agreed to come outside with them? - standing there, the clapping coming from the latter, while the former looked rather sheepish.

“You got better, Tommy.” Phil smiled, “If you hadn’t swiped downwards, leaving yourself open for Techno to do… that, you most likely could’ve, at the very least, held your own for a bit longer. Maybe, if you were lucky, you could even beat him.”

“In his dreams,” Techno grinned, “but we can try again, anyway, if you’d like.”

Tommy just blinked at his family members.
“When did you two get here?” he asked, bluntly, “I’m not just blind, am I?”

Wilbur snickered.
“We weren’t here from the beginning, if that’s what you mean. We saw the end of the fight, though. Maybe, with a little practise, you can defend yourself from him for more than two seconds.”

Ignoring Tommy’s indignant squawk of “Hey!”, Techno turned back to the teenager with a smug grin.

“Round two?” he questioned, as if the answer wasn’t already obvious; Tommy would fight again, for round two, as Techno called it, simply to prove Phil and Wilbur wrong. Everyone in his family knew that, even Tommy, the need to prove people wrong was an urge that hadn’t faltered much with age. Or… experiences, rather, because technically he was the same age he had been the first time this date happened, if that made sense.

He nodded. Techno readied his training sword, though Tommy did not move to do anything.

The backyard was rather empty, Tommy noted, it was only a small area of grass. Nothing to use to anyone’s advantage, and whether that was to be a curse or a blessing was to be determined. Though, he supposed, even if there were things to use, Techno might’ve said it was cheating if he were to actually use them.

The other didn’t seem to want to make the first move, this fight, to Tommy’s despair. He had a plan this round, and if Techno was to force his hand, he wouldn’t be able to use what he had planned.

Not knowing what else he was supposed to do, Tommy cautiously approached the other, who still didn’t budge from his defensive position. The blond charged forward without warning, aiming to just sort of jab at Techni’s chest, not liking how open the other possible moves left him (not that this one was much better, if he thought about it).

As expected, Techno dodged, and Tommy quickly realised that going in for a stab was a horrible, terrible idea, because there was no way he was going to be able to redirect the force used in that into another hit. Which meant, instead of exchanging hits, he’d have to back off once again. And, depending on what strategy Techno was trying to use here, he thought his hand might end up getting forced into attacking first, again.

Unsurprisingly, his brother went in for a hit, and Tommy got hit, but he didn’t fall, instead backtracking as fast as he could to get back into their original positions.

He didn’t really want to hurt Techno, he realised. Not this Techno, at least.This Techno wasn’t an anarchist who destroyed his home twice over, who told him to die like a hero, and… and nothing else, of course.
This Techno was just his brother. This Techno was trying his best to be a good brother, too, and Tommy would bet money that he hadn’t previously noticed, ever. He should’ve.

He didn’t want to hurt his brother.

But Tommy could already imagine how the others would never let it go if he backed down now, now, with Phil and Wilbur watching as the teen tried to prove them wrong. Forfeiting would just prove them right, and his nonsensical need to be right didn’t agree with such an idea.

Maybe… He could pretend that this was the Techno from his time, the shell of someone he once thought he loved, someone who he wanted to destroy for all he’d done. He could pretend he was back, back where he belonged, in his time, surrounded by war and death and betrayal but most important people who understood the pain.

Tubbo understood the pain, he thought.
Then he remembered what Techno did to Tubbo back at the festival, and suddenly he was furious. Suddenly, he felt was back, fighting against his Technoblade, in a wrecked Manburg and broken promises.

Abruptly, with the kind of anger only someone truly hurt could muster, he rushed and swung his sword at Techno, who seemed slightly taken aback. Their blades crashed, anyway, and Tommy was still the weaker of the two.
Once his blade was forced away, he wasted no time in swinging again, which was also blocked.

Tubbo had forgiven Techno instantly for the festival, Tommy remembered.

He didn’t stop to battle out who could push the other’s blade back, again, he knew it was inevitable that he’d lose in a battle of strength. But a battle of speed, maybe he had a chance.
With calculated yet quick swipes, he swung his sword at Techno, aiming for different places every swing. Techno blocked every swing.

Tommy never had forgiven Techno. Not for the festival, or for the many things after, Tommy remembered.

Techno seemed to grow (emotionally) tired at this, not long after it happened, and on one swing, aggressively forced Tommy to retreat back a few small steps by parrying his blade roughly.
He then went in for a hit, that the younger blocked with little problem, but Techno wasn’t backing off, he wasn’t stronger than the other, and a fence wasn’t far behind him. Were he to move to be back against that fence, he’d practically already lost. He had to gain some sort of ground, or end the fight before he could be forced back any further.

He had so much anger aimed at Techno, he remembered.

He used the last embers of that fire of hatred to overpower Techno and force him backwards, and he approached to put his sword at the other’s throat, but suddenly the other slashed at Tommy and he stumbled in his attempt to avoid it.
However, he retained enough sense to point his sword at Techno’s throat, only to find that Techno’s blade was pointed at his neck.

Wait.
Both their blades were pointed at each other’s necks.

All of a sudden, he felt the last embers of his hate for Techno burn out, and he didn’t find reason to keep playing make-believe and pretending he was fighting his Techno anymore.

Slowly, Tommy lowered his sword from his brother’s neck, and his brother did the same. The other looked almost… angry, for a second, before a smile showed itself on his face.
The blond found himself mirroring the smile, as the other reached over and ruffled his hair, mumbling how he was proud of him for that, nowhere loud enough for Wilbur or Phil to hear, because even Tommy knew that Techno would never hear the end of it if they heard the warrior being so blatantly soft to his youngest brother.

“You’ve improved, Tommy! I’m impressed. Where did you learn all that?”
Phil seemed genuinely curious, but it was much more complicated than he would ever know.

“Oh, uh. I learnt from the best of the best-”
He turned his head to Techno and gave him a pleading look,
“- Technoblade! I learnt from the blade himself.”

And that look must’ve been more than enough, because Techno did not argue with what Tommy said and simply nodded.

“Maybe, if Wilbur ever actually sparred with us, he could be as good as me and Techn-”

“And what happened to Wilby, huh, Tommy?”
That shut Tommy up. He suddenly regretted ever bringing up the nickname, he had the opportunity to pretend it didn’t happen and to have no one ever know about it, but instead he had the bright idea to do the opposite of that and to say it purposely.

Phil chuckled.
“Shall we head inside, now? You two look tired.”

Tommy nodded, and Techno must’ve too, because Wilbur turned around to begin leaving and Phil was quick to follow.

He would’ve followed, but Techno’s hand on his shoulder stopped him. He turned to the other, nervous.

Techno waited until the other two members of their family were out of earshot, and then he finally spoke:
“I want to help you, Tommy, but I can’t cover for you forever without knowing what’s happening.”

“And I’ll tell you! On the day your time limit ends-”

“I know that. But if you keep this up, Phil and Wilbur will be on your case as well. I don’t know what happened in the kitchen with Wilbur earlier, but I can guess it raised suspicion, and how you looked like you were out for blood just now surely could not have helped.”
He went and picked up the third, unused training sword.

“I don’t… I need some time before I can tell you.”

“I know,” Techno’s face softened, “and that’s okay.”

And then, it was like nothing had happened, when Techno walked inside casually without another word. Tommy followed.

Tommy followed Techno through the house and to the front door. They took their shoes, or boots, in his brother’s case, off there, and then Techno spoke.

“Are you going to go to your room, or are you going to be social and come with me into the living room with the others?”

“You say that like I’m not social.”

“You aren’t. Tubbo is, like, your only friend-”

“That’s not true!”

“Really? Then name another friend of yours.”

Tommy faltered. Part of him, the part still hanging onto his second exile, screamed Dream. But Tommy knew better by now, Dream was the furthest from a friend he could possibly think of.
There was Schlatt, but Schlatt didn’t pretend to be Tommy’s friend - which automatically made him a million times better than the excuse of a human being Dream was. A voice in the back of his head wondered if it would be possible to stop Dream from becoming like that, since he was in the past, but he quickly dismissed the thought. He wasn’t here for Dream, his family was miles more important.

Suddenly, he realised he had taken too long to respond, and quickly said the first thing that came to mind.
“Ah, uh- I guess you got me there, hehe...heh… It’s just Tubbo and me, always, it’s always been like that.”

A pause.

“O-kay then. You coming with, or not?”
Techno knew something was up based on that response, who wouldn’t, but luckily for Tommy, he didn’t mention it (even if only because their other family members were a room over, and would hear any discussion that was going on).
“I will, I’ll follow you into there. Lead the way?”

Techno shrugged, before turning and walking into the living room that was literally about five steps away (why did Tommy tell him to lead the way, it must’ve just sounded plain stupid when it was right there) while Tommy followed.
Both brothers went and took their usual spots on the couch, Techno looked generally disinterested and Tommy looked unusually nervous.

“Tommy,” the aforementioned teen looked up to Phil, and made a sound of acknowledgement, “do you like festivals?”

No, he thought, instantaneously, not after what happened to Tubbo. Not after everything…

But, answering that would be really suspicious, so he didn’t answer with that. Instead, he gave a stiff nod in response. Phil didn’t appear to notice the hesitance, or he did and thought it was just Tommy thinking it over (technically, it was).

“That’s good. There’s a festival arranged in a few days, around the other side of the village. Wilbur wanted to go, and I was thinking maybe we could all go. You can invite Tubbo, too, since I know you love his company so.”

Oh.
Inviting Tubbo to a festival was the last thing Tommy wanted to do, but it’s not like Tubbo remembered what happened in the… what were they calling it, before, the red festival? Or was that a different event? He found, he didn’t really care what the event had been named.

“Yeah… Yeah, I’ll invite Tubbo. I’ll tell him the next time I see him.”

Wilbur let out a ‘woo!’ at Tommy agreeing to come and bring Tubbo, and the teen nearly jumped out of his skin. Techno noticed, too, if his poorly stifled laughs from the other side of Wilbur were anything to go off of. Tommy glared at him, but he didn’t seem to care.

Shaking his head, Tommy stood up.
“I swear, you idiots are more chaotic than me - and that shouldn’t even be possible! I’m going to my room,”
And he did, he left the room before anyone could protest, went upstairs, and towards his room.

On the way, he noticed a calendar on the wall. It said sometime in July, and Tommy was rather confused; hadn’t Wilbur said it had been, what, May, when he’d woken up? Had he just been that bad at keeping track of the date? And, this calendar wasn’t incorrect, he knew, because There was a note about Tommy’s fainting on it.
He wondered who the calendar belonged to. Phil, perhaps? Or Techno. Definitely not Wilbur, if it was Wilbur’s, then Wilbur wouldn’t have messed up the date so badly.

As Tommy entered his room and skimmed his eyes over the inside, he quickly realised why it was that Wilbur had messed up the date: there was a calendar in his room, too, except it was far from the correct date. Almost painfully so, actually. And, what do you know, the days stopped being crossed off on May the 21st. Strange, sure, but it didn’t have anything to do with Tommy’s time travel, he knew, because the date was too far off from when he went back. He wondered how it happened, though he didn’t care all that much.

Now he was in his room, he wasn’t sure what to do, he hadn't come up with a plan. He just wanted to leave before he raised more suspicions with everyone. Thinking back on it, Techno had said that what happened with Wilbur likely raised suspicions - and if Tommy had to guess, that would mean that, when Wilbur talked to Phil, that’s what he was telling their father figure about.

Which was bad.

He couldn’t believe he had messed it up this much, he couldn’t fathom such an idea until now. He hadn’t been thinking about his trauma except in passing thought, leaving it unresolved. And that unresolved trauma made him have a minor panic attack and there was literally no way Phil and Wilbur wouldn’t know something was wrong!

All he could do now was hope, he supposed. Hope it was all smooth sailing from here, and that he wouldn’t raise suspicions for long enough that they forgot about their suspicions at all. It was unlikely, but he could pull it off.

Tommy had an inside guy, after all! As long as Techno didn’t betray him and tell his other family members what he knew, he had someone to cover for him and to tell him what seemed suspicious. He had help from someone who knew the person he was trying to be better than he did. This Techno knew past him better than he knew, himself. It was sort of pathetic, in a way, but he pushed that thought down. How could he be expected to remember something from so long ago?

He sighed, walking over to his bed and flopping down. He was tired, though it wasn’t late, not yet, and he wasn’t sure if sleeping would be the right call. Maybe Techno would bring him some news, or something, and he had to be awake for that.

Speaking of… Tommy could hardly believe it. This Techno was so soft, and brotherly, and Tommy couldn’t recall a single moment from his own past, his original past, where his Techno had acted like that. He revisited the idea that maybe he had just been stupid and overlooked such behaviour, but also entertained the idea that maybe his Technoblade had found him annoying. And here, now, less energetic and more rational, this Technoblade found him tolerable enough to be nice.

It seemed likely, though quite harsh on himself. Then again, current him would find past him rather annoying, he would guess, so he wasn’t really surprised in any way, shape or form.

Slow footsteps found their way up the steps and along the upstairs corridor, hesitating outside his door. Weakly, he raised his head, seeing a flash of pink.
“Mmh…?” He incomprehensibly mumbled, tiredness taking over his thought process significantly.

There was a chuckle, undoubtedly Techno (though he didn’t know who else he expected when he saw pink), as the other paused again.

“If you’re tired, I won’t bother you. I’ll just tell you in the morning-”

Tommy found himself wanting to reach out, to tell Techno to tell him now, that, no, he wasn’t that tired he could listen, but, his bed was comfy and sleep just seemed so appealing to his tired muscles.

...Okay, maybe he was that tired.

Chapter Text

Tommy woke up earlier than he usually would and he owed that to how he slept earlier than usual, as well. As the previous day’s memories came back to him, he recalled Techno mentioning wanting to tell him something in the morning.

He’d go and seek out his brother now, but he didn’t know the current time or what time Techno usually woke up, even, so whether or not any of his family members were currently awake was a gamble of sorts.

Except he got nothing if we won except the internal validation that was being right, if he guessed correctly.

He chuckled quietly at the thought, walking out into the hallway and not bothering to get changed out of his pajamas yet. Wilbur and Techno’s doors were closed, which meant that they were either sleeping or wanting to be left alone (either way, not an invitation for Tommy to go and bother them).

Phil’s was open, as it almost always was, and looking into the room revealed that Phil was not there. He had always guessed that Phil was an early bird, but he was never up early enough to know and never thought to ask. More like, he didn’t know how to ask and also didn’t care all that much anyway, but close enough.

Quietly, he walked down the other end of the hallway and went down the stairs. He made sure to keep his noise down as much as he could, he assumed his brothers were asleep, and made his way into the living room - unsurprisingly, Phil was there. He looked up as Tommy entered, and raised an eyebrow.

“Hey, mate. Why’re you awake?”

Tommy walked over to his spot and sat down, tiredly looking over to Phil.
“Went to sleep early, woke up early. ‘M still tired as shit though.”

Phil chuckled, “It’ll wear off soon. You have anything planned to do today?”

The teen shook his head, and paused when Phil stood up. He tilted his head at the adult, who simply gave a smile.

“Go get changed, Toms, I have an idea of what we can do. Meet me in the backyard.”
And then, he left, leaving his youngest son rather confused. Why now? He hadn’t even had breakfast yet! Also, what was it with this family and the backyard? It wasn’t special.

With a sigh, he walked upstairs, and then walked to his room again. He paused by the doorway, looking into the mess that he called his room. Maybe he should clean that up, sometime, once the entire making sure nothing goes terribly wrong is over and done with (will it ever be done with?).
He entered, with a glance at the clothes he wore yesterday. Surely, it wouldn’t hurt to put them on again. He wasn’t bothered to find a new outfit that went together well, anyway, and even if he was he wasn’t sure Phil would appreciate the extra wait.

It didn’t take much internal fighting until he just sucked it up and put on the clothes he wore yesterday.

Just before Tommy was about to exit, his eyes landed back on the off-date calendar. He paused, peeking outside of his door to the presumably correctly dated calendar, and flipped to the date on his own.
With a random marker he found lying around, he wrote ‘first day’, ‘second day’, and ‘third day’ into his first, second and third days since time travelling here respectively.

Pause.

‘Techno’s deadline’, on, well, the day of Techno’s deadline.

He didn’t have anything else to mark right now, so he just left after that. To the backyard, it was - but not before one last glance at his brothers’ closed doors. He wondered when they’d actually wake up, he hoped it was soon. Whatever Techno had wanted to tell him couldn’t have been that important, his brother hadn’t seemed concerned when whatever it was had to wait until morning, but he was still curious.

Shaking his head, he actually went downstairs this time. Checking the living room and kitchen, he didn’t see Phil, so that meant he was waiting for Tommy outside. Unsurprisingly, actually.

So, Tommy went to the backyard, and blinked. He wasn’t hallucinating, yeah? Phil had an elytra?

“Oh, hey mate.” Phil spoke as if this was completely normal. Well, yes, Phil had an elytra in the Dream SMP (or did he? He’d been trying to forget about the SMP), he hadn’t been aware that the man had one at this moment in time- but apparently, he had. Tommy tried not to let his surprise show all too much.

“What are we even doing, anyway? If we’re just going to stand here then I’m going back inside, bitch!”
That swear felt a little misplaced, he’d admit, but he was trying. Trying to be who they knew, but it wasn’t easy to be someone you weren’t, how had Dream done it so well? I’ll ask him sometime, he thought, before instantly discarding the thought. If all went well, he wouldn’t see that green bastard again except for when he went against his brother.

“You’ll see. Get on my back,” as he said that, he crouched down and looked back at Tommy, who did not like where this was going.

But he did as asked, anyway, because who was he to disobey what Phil said when he’d clearly put some sort of thought into his.
Phil stood up without trouble, grimly reminding Tommy just how thin he had been, and was in his own time, and grinned, making Tommy hold on for dear life.

Phil pulled out some fireworks from his pocket, and Tommy instantly knew what was happening and tried to protest.
“I’m not sure that this is a good idea, Big P, please let me down, if you do this I will fall, I swear to go-”
Tommy screeched as they flew up with help from the firework, clutching Phil like his life depended on it, which it sort of did. A poor landing from an elytra could cause serious injury, or death. The teenager wanted neither, for obvious reasons.

Phil seemed to find this hilarious, snickering to himself as he used another firework to send them higher up.

“PHIL! Phil I am going to die, please let me down-”

Phil either didn’t notice the use of his name instead of ‘Dad’, or just didn’t care;
“Calm down! If you fall, I can catch you!”

And then he dived directly downwards, making Tommy screech again. Distantly, he heard one of his brothers yell “Don’t kill him!”, to which he responded “Fuck you!”

Before they could hit the ground again, as Tommy had feared, Phil used another firework to give them height, and then just glided along the wind. This wasn’t bad when Phil wasn’t trying to give him a heart attack, Tommy decided, though he still didn't quite feel safe on another’s back with nothing but his grip.

Regardless, he loosened his grip because of the gentle glide, not prepared for when Phil had to swerve to avoid something.

He heard a scream, though he wasn’t sure if it was his or Phil’s. He was preoccupied with the fact that he was falling, he wasn’t falling for a long time but he was still falling, was this going to be how he lost his first life this time around? Was it-
How would it compare to his other deaths, if he did die here? Would it be like the horror of betrayal and death, like the dull realisation he was going to die when he was shot in the duel, or like the way the world slowly faded away as he bled out in his final death?

Before he could hit the ground and find out himself, his arm was caught by Phil, who very quickly nearly dropped him, looking rather shocked at… whatever it was that happened whenever someone touched Tommy.

Slowly, Phil lowered them to the ground, Tommy not properly registering what was happening after the other almost dropping him.

It wasn’t just a Wilbur thing, was it? Something was wrong with him, not them. Of course something was wrong with him, actually, he fucking time travelled! Normal people don’t do that! He was fucked, he was fucked, he wasn’t normal-
He’d never get a hug again, never be able to hold hands or anything as a sort of comfort. He’d never have skin contact never again, would he. He didn’t want that… he didn’t....

Phil was shaking him, he registered distantly. He didn’t respond, other than a command of sorts,
“Home.”

Then, Phil asked him something that he didn’t hear. He just tilted his head at him. The other seemed to catch on that he was out of it, and sighed. He wrapped his arms around Tommy in a death grip, making a point to not make skin contact, and used a firework to get them into the air again.

Tommy did not feel scared, this time, he just felt dull. He had almost died, and still Phil almost dropped him over whatever stupid skin contact thing always happened! It was stupid; this was stupid. Why did he have to be different? Why couldn’t it be simpler- why couldn’t he have just gone back and been able to give people hugs and hold their hands and fix everything without all of this bullshit?

As they landed again, (how had they got back so fast?) Phil released his grip on Tommy and the latter re-entered the house in a trance- like state, speed walking towards his room upstairs and slamming the door behind him once he got there.

As he slid to the floor against the door, he could hear voices - annoyingly, they were just muffled enough that he couldn’t pick out their words. He wished he could, because it’d be a good distraction from the ball of panic currently building in his chest.
Distraction, that was how he’d gotten himself this far, he realised abruptly, and it was only making him feel worse as time went on. Bottling emotions up was bad, he’d heard bounced around at some point or another, but Tommy hadn’t ever imagined it’d have effects like this. Or even remotely like this.

Or just…

Okay, now he was just trying to distract himself again, with a thought process that started with him telling himself that distracting himself in replacement of dealing with his problem was not a good thing. Ironic, eh?

He let out a weak, pathetic excuse for a laugh at his own, unfunny quip. That was in his head.

Now, he could’ve gone off on a tangent about that, too, but before he could he heard a knocking at the front door.
Tubbo. It had to be. No one else really visited them, ever, and if they did they usually said something in advance (says Tommy, who showed up to Tubbo’s house to ask to hang out with no prior warning just two days back).

Part of him screamed at him to go down there and get Tubbo to come to his room with him. But going down to the front door would mean facing his family at some point along the way, he knew, hearing someone opening the door and more talk just slightly too far off for him to make sense of.

Tubbo must’ve been turned away, Tommy figured, as he heard him say something in a rather unhappy tone of voice, then he heard Phil say something reassuring, and then the front door closed.

He pushed down the part of him that wanted to be disappointed by that. He was having a… breakdown, or something, he didn’t know. Tubbo would know, that part of his mind pressed, and he sighed. He wished it’d shut up, actually, Tubbo’s presence or absence was the least of his worries.
Maybe he wanted space right now. That’s why he had run to his room, away from his family, because he wanted to be away from them.

But, it was just that - away from them. Tubbo was not them. He wasn’t part of his family. Tubbo was his age, and Tubbo would understand if Tommy told him what was happening, and Tubbo would take responsibility for his future self’s actions when the current him hadn’t even done anything.

“Tommy!”
Was that Tubbo?
He took a deep breath.
No, surely not, he was hallucinating. Tubbo was turned away but a couple of minutes ago.
“Let me in, Tommy! Please?”

There was a knocking.

Finally, Tommy looked over, and stilled.
Tubbo was outside his window. Tubbo was outside his second floor window. Tubbo had climbed up the side of their house to get to his window?

The blond almost laughed at just how… Tubbo that was. Of course he would climb up the side of the house just to check on his friend.

Slowly, Tommy stood. He walked over to the window that Tubbo was at and opened it, before stepping back. He didn’t say a word, and neither did Tubbo, though the latter grunted as he pulled himself up and through the window.

“Are you okay? Phil said that you weren’t feeling good, or something… I don’t know, exactly. What's wrong?”

“I…” He didn’t have to lie. He could just, selectively tell Tubbo what was bothering him, surely. “None of my family will touch me for some reason, and I don’t- I don’t know why, Tubbs. They all just flinch away.”
He fought to keep his voice normal, but it wobbled here and there, and Tommy could tell that Tubbo didn’t miss that small detail.

The brunet had a certain look after hearing that. Tommy’s mind was quick to try and pin it as pity, but he wasn’t sure. He looked like he might’ve been reminiscing something, though what Tommy was not sure. Had Tubbo had a similar experience with someone before? He probably would’ve mentioned it at some point, then, though…

“I’m sorry.”
Tommy wasn’t sure what the other was apologising for, really, but he followed it up to explain himself,
“About that happening to you, I mean. I’m sorry that happened. I’m gonna be honest with you, I really don’t like seeing you this way. Do you-”
He suddenly stopped.

Tommy raised an eyebrow.
“Do I what? Finish your sentences, big man.”

“Do you-” Tubbo held out his arms, albeit a little hesitantly, “-want a hug?”

He’d love a hug, actually, but actions spoke louder than words, so rather than telling Tubbo as such, Tommy simply walked over and wrapped his arms around the other in return, and promptly melted into the touch.
Tubbo’s head was rested against Tommy’s neck, or at least close enough that they were making skin contact. Skin contact that Tubbo didn’t flinch away from.

He was happy.

He was so happy that he could cry, but he didn’t, because Tubbo would assume they were sad tears and think he did something wrong. Instead, neither of them moved until Tommy calmed, his breaths steadying where he didn’t even know they’d been off.
Tommy didn’t really want to, but, then, he pulled away, if only to stay in character as the past Tommy, who wouldn’t show vulnerability for a single moment longer than necessary.

… He hated past him, sometimes. A lot of the time. But he was falling into the role perfectly, when he couldn’t face his own problems, even now. Sure, he felt better, but that hadn’t fixed anything, at all.
He wondered how Tubbo hadn’t noticed something was off, when everyone else had. Even Tommy could admit he was extremely bad at acting, and this is Tommy we’re on about!

“Is this okay?”
Tubbo’s small voice took Tommy out of his mind. He nodded, sitting down on his bed and patting the space beside him. The other took the invitation and sat.

“Can we just… talk? For a bit?”

“If that’s what you want, Tommy.”

Tubbo was too damn nice, was his first thought. His second?
“Hey, do you like festivals?”

Chapter Text

“Festivals?” Tubbo raised an eyebrow at Tommy, “That's a strange question. I guess- they aren’t my favourite thing, but I don’t dislike them, really. Why?”

How was he supposed to word it without making it obvious he wasn’t amazingly fond of the idea himself?
“There’s a festival in like, a couple of days or something, across the other side of the village. My, uh-” after all they did in his future, Tommy was still iffy about calling them “family. My family is going. Said I could invite you along, if you wanted to tag along.”

The brunet inhaled, pausing. For a second, Tommy thought the other would say no and he wasn’t completely sure how he felt about that. But, a second later-

“...Yeah. I’d like that. To go with you guys, I mean- if that’s okay.”

“We literally invited you to come with us, Tubbo, why wouldn’t we be okay with you accepting our invitation, dumbass?”

“I- I don’t know!” Tubbo sputtered, “I just wanted to be sure!”

There was a pause.

Tommy began to chuckle at the conversation, soon just full-on laughing. Tubbo followed suit, though he was much quieter about it, as he always was. Tubbo was quieter than Tommy, that’s just how it was. It’s how it had always been, too… Well, until Tommy’s second exile, the blond noted bitterly, he hadn’t been nearly as loud since then.

That didn’t matter right now, though, because that wouldn’t happen again if he could help it.

“Though… How will I know when it’s time? Do I just get ready really early and wait? I don’t really know-”

Tommy paused. That was a good point, actually, they wouldn’t want to be late to the festival anyway. There were a few options, but if Tommy didn’t mention them-

“How about you stay here on the day of the festival?”

-then no one had to know, other than him.

“What? But you haven’t even asked your family or anything, you- can’t just say that!”

“I’m the biggest man! I do whatever I want!” with a pout for extra effect, “Unless you don’t agree? How dare you, Tubbo, I trusted you, I thought we really had something going-”

“Okay, okay! You’ve gotta ask though, to make sure it’s okay with your family. I’m not going to do something your family isn’t okay with.”

“Just like you didn’t climb to my bedroom window to be let in when you were turned away from seeing me?” Tommy deadpanned.

Tubbo opened his mouth to respond with some quip, presumably, but seemed to come up blank. He closed his mouth and looked away, his cheeks flushing a little. Tommy took great joy in this win, grinning and not trying to hide how pleased he was since the other wasn’t even looking (not that he’d try to hide it if Tubbo was looking, though, that being said).

After a few moments, the brunet spoke up again.
“Speaking of… I should probably leave, before they realise I’m here.”

“Oh, they already know you’re here, for sure.” choosing, graciously, to ignore the look of pure, unfiltered shock on Tubbo’s face as he whipped round to face him, Tommy continued, “The walls aren’t that thick, you know. If the others are still downstairs, which they likely are, they won’t be able to hear what we’re saying… but they will be able to tell who we are, by how our voices sound. If they’re upstairs than it’s a slightly different story, and they’ll be able to tell what we’re saying as well.”

The older of the two inhaled sharply.
“So what you’re saying, is that I’m already busted either way?”

“Yes, that is the gist of it, my dear friend Tubbo. I’m sure they don’t mind all that much, anyway, seeing as none of them came upstairs to tell you to leave.”

“But what if they just didn’t want to interrupt? Maybe, if I leave and see them outside of here, they’ll tell me off for going against what they said…”

Tommy sighed, putting a hand on Tubbo’s shoulder.
“I’m positive they won’t. And if they try, then I’ll chase them down for it, since I’m such a big man. You aren’t- they aren’t your family, they don’t get to tell you what to do.”

“Am I your…?”

“You’re my family,” Tommy affirmed with a smile much more fond than he’d ever admit, “so I’ll protect you. Let’s go to the others?”

And so, they did.

Tommy ended up dragging Tubbo downstairs, a regretful decision, really, considering his most recent interaction with his family. But things were in his favour, with Tubbo there they were a lot less likely to, you know, bring it up. And he could just flee to his room as soon as Tubbo left!

Then again, if he left, he wouldn’t hear whatever it was Techno had wanted to tell him literally yesterday night.

Maybe… he could flee to his room and let Techno in but no one else. That’d work, surely, except his door happened to not have any sort of locking mechanism on it. And Tommy wasn’t so desperate as to barricade his own door shut just to avoid talking about it (yes, he was).

Not that it especially mattered, he thought, stopping outside the door to get into the living room. He could hear the others inside, seeming to be talking about baking, or something.

The blond inhaled deeply, turning to give Tubbo a questioning look. The other had sort of been forced to come downstairs as well, but Tommy wasn’t going to actually force him if it made him especially uncomfortable.
Tubbo gave a sort of half-smile and a hesitant thumbs up. That was good enough permission to go on with this, he supposed, so he did.

Tommy slammed the door open, making a point to be extremely loud as to make his presence known; definitely not because it was what his old self would do.
“Heya, Bitches! The great TommyInnit is here!”

Techno didn’t look the least bit surprised, giving the most minimal-effort wave the teen had ever seen in his entire life, while Wilbur looked rather startled, which Tommy took great pleasure in. Phil, from his seat away from the other two, gave a slight smile, looking at something beyond Tommy - Tubbo.

Glancing back at the aforementioned teenager just made Tommy sort of worried, since Tubbo looked like he wanted to leave, curl up into himself, or both.

For a few tense seconds, no one spoke.

So Tommy did.

“So!” he started, roughly dragging Tubbo to what would usually be his seat, “What were you guys talking about?”

He let go of Tubbo’s arm, and gently pushed him to sit where he usually would, then he followed suit but sat on the floor in front of his friend instead.

“Well, we were actually talking about ba-” Wilbur started, but was interrupted by the gremlin child himself.

“Nu-uh! That was a trick question, Wil, my friend, my brother, big man. I have my own conversation topic!”
He turned his head to look at Phil,
“Dadza. Is it okay if Big T comes round to our house on the day of the festival? He won’t know what time to show up, otherwise!... Big T being Tubbo, of course.”

Phil chuckled, though his face betrayed that he was still a little confused.
“He can do, yeah, mate. But speaking of Tubbo…”

“I-I’m sorry, Mr. Watson! I know you turned me away, but I just… I just wanted to help…”

“Woah, woah. You aren’t in trouble, kiddo. I was just sort of wondering, how did you even get in there? Had you gone through the back door we would’ve heard your footsteps.”

Tubbo didn’t respond, still a bit nervous from the looks of it, so Tommy responded instead. He was well aware that Phil wouldn’t just pretend like he didn’t care only to blow up, unless he was in some alternate dimension (wait, what if he was?).

“He climbed up to my window then climbed through when I opened it. Talented, man, I could never climb up something random like that.”

“Heh?”
Techno leaned forward to look around Wilbur to Tubbo,
“You climbed up the front of the house? How? That’s gotta be a lie. I don’t believe it.”

“Uhm, well. It’s not that hard, really. You’ve just got to find holds in the wall, and then push off of those! Reusing holds is useful as well, instead of finding new ones…” Tubbo trailed off, passionate but not quite confident yet.

“That’s cool, actually. I didn’t know you could do that.”

A pause.

“Anywayyyyyy, I’ll be taking my leave now-”
Tubbo chuckled awkwardly after a moment, positively speed walking out of the room, while the others just watched.

Then Tommy sprung up and followed, yelling a “Sorry!” after almost tripping over Wilbur’s legs, and followed Tubbo to the front door.The other seemed to be almost out the door by the time Tommy had exited the room and yelled out “WAIT!” louder than needed.

Tubbo turned - anyone would at such a loud call - and raised an eyebrow.
“Tommy? What?”

“What time are you going to come back here on the festival day?”

“Uh. I don’t know?”

“Tubbo.” Tommy deadpanned.

“I’m serious! I don’t know!” he sighed, “Okay- how about… noon. I’ll show up at noon. Is that… early?”

“Good guess, but actually no! It’s perfect. Well, it’s early as in way earlier than the festival, but early means we get to hang out a bunch so I’m not complaining!”

Tubbo nodded, slowly. Still looking at Tommy, he blindly reached for the door behind him and opened it, slowly stepping backwards to step out of the house.
Then he basically slammed the door, and the blond chuckled. Tubbo really wanted to get out of the house, huh.

After a moment to gather his thoughts, he walked back to the living room and sat in his seat next to Wilbur, who still looked positively confused.
“I don’t- I think I’m in shock. Tubbo disobeying? Is he having a rebellious stage? Tommy, you’ve gotta help him!”

Tommy chuckled.
“He’s fine, Wil. I think he just wanted to help, I don’t really know, I don’t control him.”
A pause.
“Say, what were you guys actually talking about before me and Tubbo barged in?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” Techno deadpanned.

Phil laughed, turning his attention to Tommy before the teen could quip some sarcastic response.
“We were talking about baking.”
.
“Baking?” Tommy raised an eyebrow, “Why?”

“We’re baking tomorrow! Cookies, or- or a cake or something. Whatever you want!” Wilbur suddenly chirped, turning to Tommy and holding both his hands as Tommy awkwardly stared on,
“Won’t you bake too? You may be a gremlin but you’re still my little brother.”

“Oh, uh… sure?”

Chapter Text

Baking, huh.

They hadn’t baked as a family before - not that he could remember - but he knew how to make both cakes and cookies from Niki, although rather shabby. He could gather the resources for a cake, definitely, but mixing and heating it was a whole other thing.
He could probably leave that to Phil or something, though, so that was fine.

All he had to do was avoid touching anyone and nobody would panic and everything would be fine. And, maybe catch Techno alone so they could finally talk, if he was lucky.

But, as always, it was only an ‘if’.
Tommy might have to just force Techno to tag along with him and hope it wasn’t too obvious how desperate he was to just have a private conversation for once.

“Do we actually have the stuff to bake tomorrow?” Tommy decided it was a good question to ask - y’know, before it was the next day and they were to make whatever it was they’d decide on.

Wilbur paused, staring at Tommy for a few seconds before a “I’ll go check,” was spoken, and he scuttered off to the kitchen. Techno snorted,
“Really should’a thought that through, huh? Can’t bake without the ingredients. Thanks for bringin’ it up.”

The blond simply shrugged. It wasn’t like it wasn’t common sense, but he wouldn’t deny the thanks. It was nice.
He still found the contrast between who he used to know and these people, currently, so strange. Sure, his Techno had helped him towards the end of his exile, but such kindness was almost completely overridden in Tommy’s mind by what he did on Doomsday. Phil was sort of the same, but maybe it was what his father figure didn’t do on Doomsday that was bothering him. Wilbur… Tommy hated that his mind had correlated this Wilbur with his one at Pogtopia, because this Wilbur obviously wasn’t like that, he was like L’Manburg Wilbur and that was the good Wilbur.

But thus was the life of still being wary of things that hadn’t happened yet, Tommy supposed. He’d just have to deal with it until he got over it.
If he got over it.

Tommy sighed, taking a deep breath and risking a glance to Techno when he saw the other out of the corner of his eye. His brother raised an eyebrow at him, and Tommy shrugged in response, paused, and then raised the middle finger. He heard Phil snicker as Techno cracked the slightest of smiles.

Just then, Wilbur re-entered the room, glancing at the three family members before announcing his results.
“We don’t, in fact, have enough stuff. We don’t have any wheat or anything, you know, which rules out everything we were going to make because wheat makes flour and flour is in, like, every baking recipe-”

“We get it,” Tommy interrupted, sounding a little exasperated, “We can just go and get the things we still need. First, though, we should decide on what exactly it is we want to bake… because, like, we need to figure out what it is that we need to pick up, y’know?”

When three pairs of eyes lingered on him a bit too long, two surprised and one casual, he realised that the Tommy they knew never tended to take the initiative, and cursed in his mind. Way to not be suspicious.

Phil was the one who broke the silence.
“How about we make a cake? Then we can share some slices at the festival.”

Techno gave a small nod, then looked out the window towards the darkening sky. Tommy followed his eyes, and knew what his brother was thinking: if they went out now, they would get caught by monsters unless they somehow became extremely fast and got everything very quickly.

Wilbur must’ve noticed as well, “We can get the ingredients in the morning? We can head to the… traders place downtown and split up from there.”

“That’d work,” Phil agreed, looking to Techno and Tommy, who both nodded at the silent question.

The brunet took his seat between Tommy and Techno, frowning just the slightest bit.
“What do we do until it’s night?”

Phil paused, getting up and opening a drawer in the room. The trio of brothers glanced at each other, but none of them seemed to particularly know what their father figure was getting. It felt almost worrying, but not too much. Just enough to be ever so slightly concerning.

Tommy blinked as Phil pulled out a wooden box, and set it down on the table in the center of the room.

It took a few moments for them to recognise it, but when they did-

“Draughts!” Wilbur exclaimed, and Techno hummed.
The teenager knew that the others would usually play chess, and probably enjoyed playing it more than the simple game that was draughts, but Tommy didn’t know how to play chess, and something inside of Tommy revelled in the thought that they got out draughts instead of chess so he could be included. Even if it was sort of basic human decency to not leave someone out.

“I call the first game!” Tommy called out before anyone else could, racing over to sit by the coffee table to set up the game.

Techno sat on the opposite side, with the claim; “Well, someone’s got to show the nerd his place.”

Tommy just grinned in response as they finished setting up the board. He wasn’t the best at draughts, but he still maintained some hope that he could win.
He was playing black, Techno was playing white.

At the beginning, their pieces were mostly just dancing around each other. Tommy got one of Techno’s pieces trapped in a corner, but it made a few of his pieces unmovable unless he wanted to lose some pieces.

Tommy ended up sacrificing one of his pieces so he could take one of Techno’s, many of the pieces having been in a standstill. He wasn’t sure what his brother was trying to do, but he wanted to stop it before it started.
He managed to snag two of Techno’s pieces, one of his own getting taken in the process.

Techno grinned as one of his pieces made its way into a corner next to Tommy’s end of the board. The teenager sighed.

Tommy’s main problem was that he overlooked double take opportunities. He’d sacrifice one of his pieces with the intent of taking one of his brother’s in return, but much of the time Techno just did a double take instead and screwed up the entire plan.

Currently, the gremlin had 12 pieces, while the blade had 16.

Soon enough, Tommy found himself in a position where, no matter what he did, he was going to lose a piece.

He had one king, and Techno had two.
Wonderful.

He knew he was truly done for when he had 5 pieces, and Techno had 13.

And then, Tommy had one piece that was unable to move, and Techno still had 11.
Which means that Techno won, much to Tommy’s misery.

Techno just grinned, using his classic line: “If you wish to defeat me, train for another hundre-”

Correction: he was going to say his classic line, until Tommy threw one of Techno’s own pieces at him to shut him up.
Techno’s blank stare did not change, his tone becoming deadpan;
“I am so offended.”

Tommy huffed a laugh, glancing to Wilbur and Phil who seemed to be sustaining their own conversation about… anteaters? The teen raised an eyebrow at Techno, but his brother just shrugged.

“I will write you an entire list on why I don’t like anteaters--”

“Guyssssssssss…” Tommy whined loudly, making the other two look towards him, “Techno won. Not my turn anymore. You two go against each other and then whoever wins can go against Techno.”

Without waiting for a response, Tommy walked over and flopped onto the couch next to Wilbur, who chuckled and shot a questioning look towards Phil, who simply shrugged.
“If you want to, mate.”
The brunet gave a short nod, as Techno stood up. Looking over, Tommy saw that he had been re-setting the draughts board from their game. Which was understandable, seeing as he hadn’t been included in the conversation and it spared the other two having to do it.

He sat down on the other side of Wilbur, not as sloppy as Tommy had flopped down but not exactly elegant either, as he gave Wilbur a little nudge towards the draughts board. He did give in and sit at one side of the draughts board, just as Phil sat on the other.

Wil played black, Phil played white.

Tommy’s plan had been to watch and maybe taunt them if they made a bad move, but that changed slightly when he felt the heat of another body next to him. He glanced up to Techno, now sat in what was usually Wilbur’s spot, who looked back at him.
The blond looked to Wilbur, but he either didn’t notice or didn’t care.
He looked back to Techno, who paused. Then, quietly-

“You okay?”

The teenager blinked at his brother, unsure about how to respond. He wasn’t bad, per se, but he was a bit tired… and, admittedly, trying to think of ways to stop the future was quite stressful.
“I’m alright, jus’ a bit tired.” was followed immediately with a yawn, a usual telltale sign of, well, being tired.

He took a glance over at Phil and Wilbur’s draughts game, it seemed that Phil was winning, before flopping over to lay his head on the arm of the sofa and draping his legs over Techno’s lap.

Tommy snickered as he heard a small ‘Haah?’ from the older, simply stating, “Now you can’t move.”

He doubted that Wilbur and Phil had managed to stay oblivious to their entire conversation, so he supposed that they were making a point to pretend they didn’t know about it so they could laugh about it later, instead.
Though, now Tommy thought about it, the pair were making their moves on draughts awfully quickly, so maybe they were just really, really focused on the game and actually hadn’t noticed after all.

Draughts was so boring to watch,actually.
Maybe because it was so simple, but Tommy hadn’t found it too boring when he was playing it just a few minutes ago. Maybe the reason he didn’t find it boring when he played was because he actually had to be thinking, then, but he wasn’t actually doing anything when he was watching them play. Or, maybe it could just be how fast they were choosing their moves and how Tommy was, for some reason, having a bit of a hard time keeping up with what was going on. Not to mention that he couldn’t even see the board and pieces properly while he was laying down, but he didn’t want to sit up again.

Thinking about seeing, actually, Tommy’s eyes were a little sore from… something. Maybe just keeping them open for too long or something, even with his regular blinking. Either way, nobody was really paying attention to him, so surely nobody would mind if he just gave his eyes a rest for a few minutes, he guessed…

… Just a… few minutes…

...a few…

…

He opened his eyes again at the sound of voices, only to immediately hiss at sunlight assaulting his eyes.

Wait, Hold on- sunlight? He had fallen asleep?

He shot upwards, immediately meeting the eyes of Techno, who raised a single, amused eyebrow at him. Giving his brain a moment to process what must’ve happened, he blinked at the other. Then, as he realised, he instantly drew his legs back into his chest.
And, attempted to ignore what his legs still being on Techno from when he originally fell asleep suggested.

“Mornin’.”

After but a moment more of observation, Tommy noticed that Techno was reading a book, likely to keep himself occupied before the teen woke up, and he wondered how the other got it if he didn’t move. It wasn’t rocket science to come up with a likely answer, though, and he came to the conclusion that either Phil or Wilbur had gotten the book for Techno.

Avoiding his brother’s gaze once he realised it was still focused on him, Tommy mumbled something that could’ve resembled something of a “Sorry,” if someone was really paying attention.

Swinging his legs round so he sat normally on the couch, he registered the quiet voices of his other two family members in the room over. Most likely because they didn’t know of Tommy being awake, yet, since the ‘conversation’ between him and Techno had been very, very minimal and was probably not heard.

“What’s the time?”
Tommy asked, quietly, so as to not break whatever calm atmosphere it was that why had managed to create.

There was a pause from Techno’s end.
“I think it’s around nine. Not sure.”

He nodded in response, not that the other was looking, and took a deep breath. Baking- they were baking, today, and then he’d meet Tubbo early tomorrow and the festival was later that night. It’d go well. Hopefully. Chances are it wasn’t going to go bad, there was no reason for it to, so it was fine.

Hiding a yawn as best he could, he stood up and walked towards the kitchen. This time, Wilbur and Phil seemed to be having a very passionate conversation about… sand? He wasn’t going to question it, they talked about strange things sometimes.

He entered the kitchen, announcing his arrival with a “Hello BIG MEN Philza and Wilbur. The BIGGEST MAN OF ALL is here!”

They both stared at him in silence for a few seconds, and Tommy cringed. Sure, he hadn’t been that… loud in a while, but it wasn’t that big of a deal, was it?
His mind drifted to what he was told in exile, briefly, but he shook away the thoughts before they could truly latch on.

“C’mon, now,” he prompted, “don’t leave me waiting… What were you guys even talking about before I entered?”

That seemed to snap Wilbur out of it, and he hesitated for just a moment before responding with a goofy smile;
“Eating sand.”

Phil sighed from the other side of the small room, and Tommy raised an eyebrow, giving a lop-sided grin in return.

“What? Why sand?"

Wilbur’s grin widened, and Tommy wasn’t sure if he should be scared.

Chapter Text

And so, Tommy got to hear all about what they were talking about, which was eating sand. The Tommy they knew would probably yell his own opinion and ruin the mood somehow, but, currently, Tommy just wanted to listen and keep this domestic feel for just a little bit longer. Until they had to leave to go and get ingredients for the cake.
He wasn’t sure why talking about eating sand felt so home-y, but he guessed it was just talking about something so silly and nonsensical without a care.

He looked up as Wilbur stopped talking and the kitchen door opened, Techno entering the room. It reminded Tommy that he had accidentally turned down a chance at having a private conversation with Techno earlier, and he sighed internally at the realisation.
Tommy would find another chance, and hopefully sooner rather than later.

“Hellu,” Techno spoke, taking a seat at the table between Wilbur and Tommy, “We havin’ breakfast?”

Phil hummed.
“Not quite yet, mate. Should be finished real soon, though.”

Miraculously, Tommy hadn’t noticed that Phil was making breakfast. He knew that was why they were in the kitchen, but he was thinking that, maybe, the other two had already had breakfast.

“What’re we having?” Wilbur asked, on behalf of all three of the brothers.

“Eggs and toast. Boring, I know, but we didn’t have much else to work with.”

“We can restock when we get the baking stuff later,” Tommy chimed in, “because efficiency.”

Techno huffed a laugh at the dramatics put into the last word, putting a small smile onto Tommy's face.

Then, before their conversation could progress any further, Phil walked over to the table with some plates that he placed down.
Breakfast wasn’t too eventful, really, other conversations sprouted while they were there but it wasn’t about anything especially interesting or important, in Tommy’s opinion.

He didn’t miss the worried glances aimed towards him as he hardly picked at the food, though. Tommy’s body demanded the food, the sustenance, his body from this time having had a normal eating schedule, but his mind told him otherwise- told him the eating schedule he’d gotten used to, with so little food, would cause him to throw up were he to eat it all.

He knew that if he did, in fact, eat the food, he wouldn’t throw up. But that one part of his mind, it insisted that he would, to not eat too much, so he didn’t.

After having just a little (a normal amount for Tommy, but probably unhealthily little in general), he stood and placed his plate on the counter, trying to ignore the eyes he could feel on him. They probably thought he was anorexic, or something. He wasn’t. Dream had just instilled a few unusual habits in him, he was sure.

Unsure with the looks he was getting, he awkwardly took his seat back next to Techno. Before, Tommy, the extrovert he was, would love having people’s eyes on him, loved being the center of attention.
Nowadays the stares just felt like pity, pressing down on him uncomfortably and making him feel so unbearably small.

“Ahem,” Tommy started, really wanting to divert everyone’s attention at their earliest convenience, which was right now. “What’ll we be doing after breakfast, big men?”

Phil gave a weak looking smile, and the teenager really wanted to stop existing. Or he wanted his family to get better at acting, because what the shit was this? Tommy could act better than that- of course he could, he was amazing at everything and such a big man.

… Yeah, no, it didn’t sound the same as it did when he actually meant it.

“Getting stuff for baking.” Techno deadpanned, and Tommy had never wanted to slap him more.

Wilbur rolled his eyes, “You wouldn’t say, oh wise one.” he then looked to the teenager, “Well, we’ll have to figure out who's getting what. It’d be quicker to split up but I’m not sure if we should…”

Pretending earlier when Tommy rushed out of the living room didn’t happen, Tommy never overlooked a chance to talk privately with Technoblade!
“Nah, I think we should split up. I’ll go with Techno, if you wouldn’t mind.”

Phil raised an eyebrow, finally inserting himself into the little conversation. “Techno, eh? You’ve been hanging around him a whole bunch, lately, mate. You’re sure you aren’t getting a favourite brother?”

Wilbur gasped dramatically, looking very upset at the implications of that, as he turned his pleading eyes to face Tommy.
“Tommyyyyy… Tell me it’s not true, I’m the coolest older brother…”

Involuntarily, the blond felt a grin form on his face. “I dunno, Wilbur, Techno is pretty cool…”

“Get destroyed,” Techno huffed a laugh, making a point of moving his chair closer to Tommy, “I’m the cooler older brother.”

They had all finished breakfast by that point, Tommy noticed, seeing how Phil was taking their plates to lay them on the counter near his own plate.

That probably meant they were leaving soon, and his brothers must’ve gotten the same idea since they then stood to get ready. Tommy didn’t really have to do anything to do, since he was sure nobody would care if he wore the same clothes he did yesterday.
Hopefully.

He gave a glance to Phil, before heading for the front door. There, he slipped on some shoes, before pausing. He wasn’t really supposed to go upstairs with shoes on, but- he had just put them on.
(If he went upstairs with shoes on to get a red hoodie, it was nobody’s business but his.)

Phil must’ve gone upstairs while he was in his room, he figured, since he couldn’t hear sounds from the kitchen anymore. He turned slightly to look as he heard footsteps from the stairs, and, predictably- it was Techno.
Techno gave something along the lines of a hum of acknowledgement, not pausing in his steps as he reached the bottom and met up with Tommy.

“You know it’s such an honour to be the favourite broth-”

“Shut up, Techno.”
Tommy wasn’t actually upset, of course, he was just (mentally) tired and didn’t have the energy for… whatever Techno was going to follow that sentence up with.

Techno seemed to catch on, and gave a slight shrug, looking away.

Tommy sighed. He couldn’t understand how this Technoblade, so nice and respecting of boundaries, could even remotely be like the Techno that’d… uh… done that.
He still wasn’t sure about his stance of the circumstance of his death, really, because it wasn’t nearly as simple as ‘so-and-so did this, and they’re in the wrong,’ it wasn’t as 2D as that.

Techno and Ghostbur had played big parts in the events, Tubbo’s involvement wasn’t the boy’s fault at all, he did all he could, and Phil didn’t get involved at all; that was the part that hurt the most.

Most of all, it was his own fault. He asked… He’d asked… But he hadn’t wanted...

He didn’t want to think about it.

He blinked and looked up as he heard more footsteps, finding Phil and Wilbur coming downstairs. Were Tommy to have to guess, he’d say they probably bumped into each other (not literally), maybe talked a bit, and then came downstairs together.

They were saying something, though Tommy wasn’t really paying attention as to what, as Wilbur pushed past him and Techno and raced out the door like a child, Phil offering the pair an awkward smile before following.
Tommy sighed, tuning back in, deciding to take a last look at Techno before leaving.

Techno gave him a worried, questioning look.
Tommy shook his head.

Without waiting for any sort of response, verbal or otherwise, he followed Phil and Wilbur outside.

Chapter Text

Tommy followed Wilbur and Phil outside. He couldn’t hear his brother’s footsteps behind him, but he had no doubt that Techno had followed, since he didn’t have a reason not to anyway.

“Lets go, then?” Wilbur suggested, already knowing the answer as Tommy managed a nod and Phil smiled. Looking over his shoulder, the teenager found that Techno had, infact, followed, as expected, and he must’ve given some semblance of a response because Wilbur and Phil began to walk down the path, Tommy could tell by their footsteps.

This time, he didn’t let his gaze linger on his proclaimed ‘favourite’ brother, and instead followed the other two right away.
They were headed to the other side of the village, he was decently sure, because that was where the market was, which was exactly where they needed to go.

‘The other side’ of the village wasn’t as far as the wording made it sound - it really wasn’t that far at all, and they reached the place very soon. There were what looked to be stalls all over the place. Most notably, the things they needed were pretty spread out.

The family looked to each other, Phil being the one to speak.
“So- Techno, Tommy, what stuff do you want to get? Me and Wilbur will split up from you two.”

Tommy didn’t really care, so he looked towards Techno, who hummed.
“We’ll get the milk and the egg. Then you two can get the wheat and sugar?”

Wilbur nodded, giving a mock-salute as he walked away without another word. Phil soon followed, and Tommy looked to Techno, who shrugged.
“Milk first, there’s a stall over there-”
He pointed to, well, a milk stand, with two girls at it. Both were brunettes, with hair of similar length, though one wore pink where the other wore blue.

“Lets go, then,” Tommy spoke, before walking over.
Blue, as he was going to call them by colours for now, was saying something, but he couldn’t hear it until he got closer. When he did, he noted that she had an accent.

“...Manage to put on enough layers you can use it as a glorified umbrella!” she finished, seeming enthusiastic about whatever she was on about, “And! If you need to, you can always hop on in the house and get food, or anything else- there are only advantages if you ask me.”

Pink shrugged, turning towards her friend thoughtfully.
“I don’t really know; you'd have to find the center of gravity for the house to not tip over on your head. Are we speaking any house? Or just a specific kind? Would a two story house be too much?”

“True, true, I digress,” Blue frowned,
“But from the moment you consider getting a house on your head, I don't think weight quite matters anymore.”

Tommy glanced up at Techno, who looked just about as bewildered as he felt. Were they talking about… wearing a house for a hat? Who talks about that?

“I suppose,” Pink considered, “in theory, you-”

“Excuse me?”
Techno finally spoke,
“Are you gonna… finish talkin’ about that anytime soon?”

Pink appeared to jump out of her skin, whirring round at what might’ve been close to the speed of light. “Holy-- shit!”
Her friend didn’t seem quite as concerned, only curling in on herself a little.

“Sorry, sorry-” Pink managed, giggling awkwardly, “didn’t mean to keep you waiting! What do you need?”

“Milk.” Tommy deadpanned, doing his Technoblade impression.

“Well, yes, of course, but- how much?”
She sounded exasperated, and Tommy almost felt bad. Almost.

“Three,” Techno responded, instead, “three buckets.”

Looking determined, Pink nodded, then looked to Blue.
“Malekaiiiiiiiii, would you be so kind as to get some milk from the ice room for me?”

“You… Sus, you have the key.”

“Of course I do. Hold on, boys, let’s go.”

Then, they went inside a nearby house. Presumably to get the milk.

“They were a curious pair,” Tommy noted, “they do seem a bit disorganised, though. Guess we’ll just have to hope their milk doesn’t suck.”

Techno raised an eyebrow,
“How would someone mess up milk?”

“I don’t know. Maybe… leave it out too long?”

“I suppose.”

Just then, Pink came rushing back outside, somehow not spilling any of the three milk buckets she was holding, as she slammed them down onto the counter.
“Two emeralds, please!”

“I thought it was one for each? So, three?” Techno questioned, and Tommy gently punched his arm. You aren’t supposed to question this sort of thing, went unsaid.

“A discount,” she explained, “for taking a while.”

“Thanks.” Techno curtly responded, taking the milk and quickly turning to leave as Tommy trailed behind.

(If Tommy strained his ears, he could hear Blue ask Pink about if they would be able to put a house on their head if they tried. And he could hear Pink reply that, no, unless the plan was to lose a life and break a neck, they couldn’t.)

Tommy didn’t let Techno hold all of the milk for long, for he took one of them soon after they walked off. He planned on taking the egg, when they got it, as well. Or eggs. They only needed to get one, didn’t mean they would though.
… Was it even possible to buy only one egg on it’s own? He supposed he’d soon find out.

Again, it didn’t take long to find the correct stall - or, technically, one of the correct stalls, since Tommy guessed there would be competition out there somewhere - as it was pretty noticeable.
The lone girl there, wearing olive green, looked close to crying and Tommy wanted to spare her the trouble but he knew Techno probably wouldn’t agree, as nice as he’d been lately.

“Let me handle this one,” he’d told Techno, instead, and the other agreed without question, much to the teenager’s delight. That he didn’t actually show, of course, that’d be too obvious.

Looking at the stall, he noticed that, in fact, the eggs were on sale by twos at the very least: two eggs for one emerald. Tommy asked Techno for two emeralds, a detail he was sure his brother noticed but didn’t mention.
Then, he walked over to the girl, who weakly looked upwards as he approached.

“Could I get two eggs?” he asked, softer than he usually would just to try and spare the girl. Green, he decided, was her nickname, to carry on what he did with Pink and Blue before.

Green meekly nodded, simply reaching for something under the counter, which she brung up and then put on the counter - predictably, it was two eggs, packaged.
Tommy slid across the two emeralds, and Green paused in reaching out to take them.

“It only costs one,” she spoke quietly, simply.

“I know,” he countered, “keep the change. You don’t look at your best, no offence.”

Green’s gaze lingered on the emeralds for a moment longer, before she nodded, mumbling something that Tommy guessed was a “thank you”.

He beamed, taking the eggs. He liked to think that he might’ve made that girl feel just a little bit better. He liked to think that, maybe,… he helped someone. Just a little.

Tommy wandered back to Techno, who seemed to have a ghost of a smile on his face.

“We didn’t agree on a meeting place for when we finished, did we? Where do we wait?”

Techno hummed, shifting the milk he was holding, “The way we came in. Can wait there.”
Then he began to walk off, presumably to, well, where they entered from, and Tommy followed, being careful of his own milk and eggs he held in his arms.

He took another glance at Pink and Blue as he passed them again, and this time noticed a cardboard crown… tiara… thing on Pink’s head. It was crudely made, from the looks of it, and seeing it reminded him of the actual, real crowns his friends adorned in the future, which just made him look away and follow Techno more closely.

It didn’t take long to get back to their starting point, a much less crowded area, and Tommy soon found a wall to sit down on, placing what he was holding beside him before looking back to his brother, who had similarly set his things down but hadn’t sat.

“Wilbur and Phil aren’t here yet,” Tommy stated the obvious, not feeling compelled to call Phil ‘Dad’ when the other wasn’t present and Techno already knew about this particular thing, “we can talk now.”

“Can do. Told you it wasn’t that important.”

“Can’t stop me from wanting to know.”

“I s’ppose.” Techno sighed, “I was just going to tell you that Wilbur and Dad know something’s wrong. You aren’t very good at actin’.”

Tommy furrowed his eyebrows, concerned, about to say something, but Techno must’ve seen, because he spoke again before the teenager could;
“BUT. They don’t know as much as me. They just think it’s teen angst or something, they’ve been tryin’ to cheer you up. I thought I’d give you an update anyway.”

The blond hummed, thinking to himself. He could see that. He really hadn’t been acting like the him his family were currently familiar with, so teenage angst would seem to be the most likely option from their perspective.

“...Thanks.” Tommy responded, finally, “Keep it that way. Make them keep thinking that, I mean.”
‘Big man’ might’ve been added at the end of that sentence, were he talking to somebody who knew less.

Techno nodded, and they were plunged into a short-lived silence.

“Do you know what an anteater is, Techno?”

“What?”

“Wilbur was talking about them last night,” Tommy specified, “said he hated them, I’m pretty sure. But I don’t know what they are.”

“Sounds like they eat ants.”

“That doesn’t help if we don’t know what ants are!”

“I’m guessin’ they’re small, if they get eaten. Silverfish-type thing, maybe.”

“It’s possible.”
Tommy slouched, having gained little to no knowledge from that conversation.

… Only to straighten up when he heard his name being called in the distance, by his (least) favourite brother.
“Wilbur! Over here!”
He yelled back, pointedly ignoring the wince from Techno beside him.

A few moments later, Wilbur and Phil were walking over with their own respective stuff. Phil was holding some wheat under his arm, and Wilbur had a bag of what Tommy guessed was the sugar they needed.

Tommy picked up his milk and eggs, then looked to Techno expectantly, only to find the other had already picked up his own things. He really had to stop being surprised by that sort of stuff.

“We’re heading back, then?” Tommy asked, bluntly, receiving a nod from Wilbur.

“We go back, we bake, and then we vibe, gremlin.”

Tommy huffed a laugh, for once not mentioning the stupid nickname as he began to walk back in the direction of the - their house, and it didn’t take long for him to hear the sound of footsteps behind him, and then not much later the sounds of the others starting a conversation that he soon tuned out of.

Needless to say, the walk back was just as, if not more, forgettable than the way there. The background sound of his family talking was nice, and occasionally he’d listen in, but from what he heard they weren’t talking about anything too interesting.

So, zoned out and bordering on the line of not thinking and thinking too much, and making sure he didn’t drop the milk or eggs, it didn’t feel like long before they reached the house.

He stopped and glanced back at his family, but Phil was already walking forward to open the door and go inside. Techno went inside after him. Wilbur shared some sort of look with Tommy, before they both went inside as well.

Usually, Tommy would take his shoes off before doing anything, but he decided the ingredients should be prioritised and dropped them off in the kitchen, where Techno and Phil were talking about who would do what when it came to the cake, before heading back to the front door and taking his shoes off.
Then, he found himself back in the kitchen and took a seat at the table, not visibly reacting as Techno and Phil looked to him.

“For the cake- would you want to mix the stuff, mate?”

Tommy hummed, “I mean, sure, big man. It’s basically the easiest part.”

Wilbur then entered, apparently having been eavesdropping before this point, “Me and Techno can work to make flour with the wheat.”

“Can we.” Techno deadpanned, a serious expression on his face.

“We can!” Wilbur insisted, picking up the wheat from the table and dragging Techno to an unoccupied corner of the kitchen.

Phil watched them in amusement, then went to get a wooden bowl and spoon and placed them in front of tommy.
“You might have to wait for those two. You remember the order in which you're supposed to add the things, right?”
Once he received a nod, Phil left the room to go… somewhere. Tommy wasn’t really sure where.

“Dad says I gotta wait for you two,” Tommy called to his brothers, a shit-eating grin on his face, “so hurry up, slowpokes.”

“It’s been like two seconds!” Wilbur exclaimed, at the same time as Techno said: “I’m going to be slower just for that.”
They looked to each other, and Techno shrugged before going back to what he was doing. Wilbur paused for a moment longer, then followed his twin’s lead.

Tommy hoped they would be done soon.
Instead of focusing on that, though, he poured the sugar into the bowl and cracked one of the eggs in as well. Then, well, he mixed it.

After that he just sort of poured all the milk in at once and stirred more. He knew it wasn’t the proper way, but he wasn’t too bothered to wait anyway.

“Do you two have any flour I can use, yet? Or no?”

“We have some,” Wilbur reached to get another bowl, pouring what was presumably flour into it before walking over and putting it on Tommy’s table before returning to Techno’s side.

It was, in fact, flour, Tommy found as he looked into the bowl. He poured some of it into his mixing bowl (not all at once, he remembered) and then mixed. Rinsing and repeating the action until he ran out of flour.
Once he did, he more carefully mixed it, folding air into the mixture like he was pretty sure people were supposed to do.

Then, he placed it down.
Slow and steady may win the race, but that didn’t mean Tommy had to like waiting.

He frowned, looking back at what they had so far. First checking that his brothers weren’t looking, he got a bit of the mixture onto his finger and tasted it. It was sweet, as expected, and he quite liked it.
Oftentimes he felt like the mixture before baking was tastier than the end result, but he couldn’t have much of the uncooked batter simply because doing that posed several health risks that he didn’t really want to deal with.

He blinked out of his thoughts once he saw the smaller bowl Wilbur had given him earlier being taken back. He looked up, meeting the eyes of none other than Techno, who put it back down with new flour in it.
“We finished,” the other explained simply, taking a seat opposite to where Wilbur evidently had sat down.

Tommy managed a nod, picking up the bowl and putting more of it into the batter. He kept mixing carefully, as to not crush the air he folded in earlier, until, eventually, he’d mixed all the flour in.

The brothers looked at each other in silence for a few seconds before Techno spoke.
“See, this is the part where someone goes to get Dad to cook this.”

Wilbur seemed to consider the words for a moment, before simply yelling “DAD!”.

As if summoned, Phil was almost instantly there. He looked at the mixing bowl Tommy was using and nodded.
“Alright. Go to the living room now boys, you can’t know my secret to cooking.”

And, they did go to the living room.
Techno claimed that the secret was simply fire, which they got a laugh about, and then Wilbur and Techno played chess against each other.

Tommy didn’t understand a single thing about the chess games his brothers played, but going to sleep that night? Tommy thought it’d been a good day.

Chapter Text

Tommy groaned as he slowly woke up. He wasn’t sure what the time was, but he could see the slightest light leaking through his closed curtains.

Slowly, he sat up, stretching his arms and legs before swinging his legs around the side of his bed to stand up. There wasn’t a clock in his room, but there was a sun outside his window and he decided that, maybe, he could approximate the time from that, like the smart people did.

Light on his feet as to not cause much noise just in case it was early, he made his way over to the curtains and opened them. Out his window, he could see…

He couldn’t see much of anything, actually, because apparently being blinded by the sun did wonders for vision - and not the good kind.

Tommy swiftly turned away and re-closed his curtains, trying to think about what it meant if the sun was there, and came up with no answer. He was decently sure midday was when the sun was straight upward but maybe he overestimated his knowledge on every other sun location.

He was pretty sure it was early but not stupidly early, though he could never quite be totally sure. Either way, he couldn’t wear the same clothes for a third day in a row (he could, and was sure he had done so in the past, but he was decently sure the festival counted as a special occasion, and he didn’t want to be all smelly or whatever for it).

The festival… He reminded himself Tubbo was coming round at twelve in preparation for the festival, so he got changed into new clothes that looked strikingly similar to his other ones. He’d see Tubbo again soon!

With that done, he kept his footsteps light as he exited his room and walked downstairs, tempted to check in his family’s rooms to see if they were awake but too scared to have to explain himself in case one of them was in their room and awake. Because he was positive he’d get made fun of by either of his brothers if it was them, and if it were Phil it’d simply be incredibly awkward.

He crept downstairs, first peeking into the kitchen and finding nobody. He walked through the room, wincing as he knocked a chair with his leg. He knew it’d be nowhere near loud enough to wake anyone up, but that didn’t mean he felt particularly great about the sound.

With a somewhat frustrated sigh, Tommy turned towards the living room door.
He reached to open it, but before he could actually get to the handle, someone opened it from the other side, making Tommy draw his hand back.

“Tommy? You’re not who I expected to see right now…”

Tommy blinked, tilting his head up slightly to look at the giant that was his older brother; specifically, Wilbur.
If he were honest, Wilbur was not who the teen expected to see, either. Then again, he hadn’t thought anyone else was awake at all.

“What time is it?” Tommy asked instead of paying attention to Wilbur’s words, “I didn’t check.”

“It’s like… I dunno, eight or something. Don’t you usually wake up later?”

“I usually go to sleep later, too. I can’t sleep forever, you know.”

As Wilbur turned to go back into the living room, Tommy squawked a “Hey!” as he heard him mutter something along the lines of “That’s surprising.”

The teenager scrambled after his brother, plopping himself on the couch in his usual spot beside the brunet.
Wilbur seemed to be writing something, though Tommy couldn’t see what it was. He was rather unsure if Wilbur was purposely tilting the book he was writing in away from him, or if it was simply coincidence (or instinct, if one could have an instinct to stop people from looking at their things).

“What’cha writing?”

Wilbur half-glanced up, flipping over a page in his book and scribbling something down, before humming a response.
“I’m writing about how much I love my little brother, of course.”

“Aweee, Wilburrrrrr-” Tommy’s voice was filled with only half-fake fondness, “You didn’t have to.”

Wilbur grinned, and Tommy suddenly deeply regretted his word choice.

“I didn’t have to? Good, because I didn’t.”

Tommy made the best offended face he could muster up at the time, opening his mouth to retort before thinking better of it and simply reaching to take Wilbur’s notebook-

Which the older of the two instantly noticed, stretching his arm away from Tommy to make sure the notebook was out of his reach, all the while smirking. The blond frowned, unsure of what Wilbur was up to. Because Tommy knew that face meant that he was up to something.

And, lo and behold, once Wilbur dropped his notebook arm back down to his side, he proposed a small… deal.

“Hey, Tommy. Say, if you come somewhere with me, I’ll show you what’s on this open page of my notebook.”

“Are you going to kidnap me?”

Wilbur blinked at Tommy, seemingly taken off guard.
“Why… would I kidnap you? We live together.”

“Because I’m so cool, of course!”

Wilbur huffed a laugh, smiling at Tommy with something fond in his eyes.
“If you say so, gremlin, now go get ready to go!”

The blond pulled a middle finger at his brother with a laugh, though he did leave the room to do as asked.
As he walked up the stairs, he took the time to wonder where, exactly, Wilbur wanted to take him. His memory wasn’t in tip-top shape, of course, since it’d been so long since he'd been in this area in his time, but as far as he knew there wasn’t anything within walking distance that they could go to.

Well, that was asides from that field where he and Tubbo made the flower crowns (he spared a glance to the withering ring of flowers on top of his bedside table), but he didn’t think Wilbur ever especially liked that place.

He arrived at his room.

There wasn’t much point at all in overthinking about where they could be going, though, because Wilbur - this Wilbur - wouldn’t ever hurt him on purpose. He could afford to put just the slightest bit of trust in him.

With that train of thought finished, he finally looked into his wardrobe. Before he’d just pulled out whatever, but now that he actually looked...
A lot of his clothes looked the same, he realised, dully. He knew he’d worn the same style of clothes back in the Dream SMP, excluding when he wore the L’Manburg uniform, but he’d forgotten just how many iterations of those clothes he had.

It was fine, though. It at least meant he’d always have spare clothes, he noted, taking out some clothes that looked almost identical to the ones he’d been wearing thus far, putting them on.

Then, he took a final look around his room to make sure he hadn’t left anything important (despite having nothing that fit the description), before making his way back downstairs, barely remembering to be mindful of the amount of noise he was making.

As expected, Wilbur was waiting for him at the bottom of the stairs, and he looked up, seemingly having heard Tommy come downstairs.

“Soooo,” the younger started, as he sat on the stairs to put his shoes on, “where, exactly, are we going? It’s kind of ominous that you aren’t telling me.”

“That’s the point. I’ve got to keep up my mysterious appearance. Though I’m sure you wouldn’t understand.” Wilbur feigned disappointment, though not for long, “Anyway. Follow me?”

Tommy stood up, having finished tying his shoes. He nodded, unsure of how exactly to respond, when the brunet turned and left the house. For obvious reasons, Tommy followed.

Wilbur glanced to the blond, closing the door behind them before beginning to walk in a certain direction. To Tommy’s memory, there wasn’t anything particularly cool over there, but he wasn’t sure how much his faulty memory could even be trusted.

So, instead, he just decided to ask. Because the way they were going was leading them towards a nearby forest. And, as much as he trusted Wilbur, he was still rightfully worried about this.

“Soooo… where, exactly, are we going?” the younger asked, jogging for a few moments to walk by Wilbur’s side instead of behind him.

The brunet raised an eyebrow, seeming quite confused at Tommy’s confusion. The nerve!
“I thought you’d know where we’re going by now, to be honest. Well, if you really don’t know, I’m not telling! I’ll leave it to you to figure out.”

...And this is why Techno was Tommy’s favourite brother.

Bitterness aside, Tommy could admit he was just the slightest bit excited about finding out where they were going, even if still a little nervous.
Wilbur… well, his brother wasn’t the best at fighting, he never liked it, and Tommy didn’t know how this Wilbur compared to the future one before he died, or if this Wilbur could even defend himself at all, but- Tommy knew how to fight. If something happened, he knew he’d protect the older man no matter what.

He was going soft. For the past versions of his brothers. For God’s sake, he didn’t need this on top of… trying to fix the future. He only spent so much time around Techno because he could help him. Mhm, yeah. That was it.

Tommy startled as he walked into Wilbur’s arm, as the other held it out in front of him. He made a questioning noise, turning his head to look at his brother as he halted in his step.

“You seemed to be in a bit of a daze,” Wilbur explained, “wanted to make sure you were aware before we went into the forest. Since… Well, before we get to where we’re going, there’s shade for monsters to hide in, and stuff. It’ll be safe when we get to our destination, but I just want to be safe before we get there, too.”

Somehow, it was exactly like Wilbur to bring them to a potentially dangerous place with no weapon.
It was almost endearing. Almost.

Shaking his head, he halted that train of thought. Now wasn’t the time. Wilbur had literally just told him to pay attention, and somehow he managed to mess that up.

He nodded at his brother, “Well, I’m aware now aren’t I? Lets go, no point in just… standing around, big man.”

Wilbur returned the nod, not responding verbally. Instead, he went ahead into the forest, half-glancing back to make sure that Tommy was following (he was).

Tommy stayed as close to Wilbur as he could without actually touching him, still a little nervous - moreso for Wilbur than himself, but nervous nonetheless. Better safe than sorry, as they say. He wished past him had heeded that advice.

… He needed to stop getting lost in his own head.

As he observed the direction in which they were walking, Tommy realised that their destination appeared to be a lot closer than Wilbur had made it out to be. He could see where the forest ended, the light seeming so much brighter compared to the shade of the forest.

His brother was always a little dramatic, he knew, but come on.

As they approached the light, he raised his arm to shield his eyes from the sun. Wilbur didn’t seem nearly as bothered, brightening as he looked around at the clearing.
After a few moments, Tommy lowered his arm from shielding his eyes and positively gaped at the sight.

It wasn’t the end of the forest, no - rather an empty clearing in the middle of it.

A river ran through the middle of said clearing, flowers decorating the land beside the water. It was wild, but in a beautiful way.
The sun reflected off of the water in a way that made it shine, and Tommy then decided that Wilbur had picked the best day to lead him here. It was so nice, and just being there made him feel calmer.

“Woah… This is beautiful. How did you find it?”

Wilbur looked to him in confusion, again, he saw out of the corner of his eye, so he turned to look back.

“You showed me this place, Toms. Your memory has been rather spotty lately. Must be your old age, huh?”

“Wh-!? You’re older than me!”

Wilbur simply chuckled, then approached the river.
The river… he was supposed to remember it? He could maybe remember something very vaguely like this, when he was young, but the memories didn’t come easily.
It didn’t really matter either way.

Tommy approached the water as well, pausing as he watched Wilbur take off his shoes and socks.
“What’re you doing?”

He rolled up his trousers, too, walking into the river before answering.
“It’s warmer than I thought it’d be.”
Wilbur didn’t clarify further, but he didn’t need to- simply the action of walking into the river answered Tommy’s question, after all.

The brunet kicked up some water, not in Tommy’s direction, and stared down at what the blond guessed were fish. He wasn’t sure, though, since the river was rather shallow in the part Wilbur was in and maybe Wilbur just found a really interesting pebble.

After a few moments of silence, Wilbur turned to face Tommy.
“Oh no. It’s so boring all on my own. If only there were someone else nearby, who could possible come into the water with m-”

“No. I am not going into that water, Wil! Who knows what's in there?”

“God knows. Also known as me. And I think… I think there’s a Wilbur in here. And also-” Wilbur kicked up a bit of water in Tommy’s direction, getting some of his clothes wet, “-I think there’s some water here, see?”

Tommy stared at where the water had gotten to him. Oh, Gods, he hated wet clothes. But his clothes were already wet, so he didn’t have much to lose anymore, did he?

“Oh, it’s on, arsehole!”

And, with that announcement, he practically tore off his shoes and socks, rolling up his trouser legs at light speed before immediately jumping into the river. It caused water to go onto Wilbur, of course, but he obviously hadn’t considered how much he’d get on himself in the process, as well.

“Hey!” Wilbur shrieked as he got covered in water, though he couldn’t hide his grin from his little brother.
“You’re right, then; it is on.”

Tommy returned the grin, undeniably in favour of this.

Wilbur reached down, putting his hands in a scooping motion underneath the water before flicking the water upwards, at Tommy. The blond managed to sidestep fortunately, the water’s shallowness did not really change the difficulty of moving.

“Hah. Nice try, bitch boy!”
Tommy simply kicked up some water at Wilbur, who attempted to sidestep it like Tommy had. But he wasn’t quite fast enough, and some of the water still got onto him, which he counted as a victory overall.
And for once, acting like he had back then didn’t feel so fake anymore.

From where they were now, Wilbur was closest to where they had left their shoes, and Tommy was closest to where the river got quite a bit deeper.
He realised letting himself get into that position was quite a bad idea a tad too late, when Wilbur’s grin widened.
Tommy’s eyes narrowed.

And when Wilbur started to jog towards him, he knew what was coming.
“Wait, Wilbu-!”

Before Tommy even had proper time to react, he was under the water.
He stared at Wilbur’s shit eating grin, also in the water, and raised a middle finger to the other.

Wilbur had tackled him into the deeper waters. And, apparently, brung himself along for the ride, for some reason.

At the middle finger, Wilbur seemed to laugh, before going to swim to the surface. He beckoned Tommy to do the same, so he did, both of them treading water to stay afloat once they emerged.
The teenager readjusted his hair so the wet strands wouldn’t be in his eyes, as Wilbur chuckled softly beside him.

“What was that for, you bitch! Now I’m soaked to the bone!”

“Well, I mean, I got you soaked. So I win, right?”

“You also got yourself soaked! That doesn’t count!”

“Lalalala, I can’t hear you!”

“Stop acting like a TODDLER!”

Chapter Text

Tommy and Wilbur stayed in the water for a while longer after that. The two of them continued to splash each other despite already being soaked.

Tommy kept glancing over his shoulder. He was prepared for anything (mostly drowned) to come out of nowhere, but there was never anything. It felt safe, and as time went on, he stopped glancing over his shoulder as much.

He didn’t learn an awful lot from playing in the river with Wilbur. However, he did determine that he swam better underwater than above water. He also noticed that his brother’s swimming was the opposite.
It’d most likely never help him, ever, but it was information nonetheless.

When Tommy finally called for a break, he was breathing heavily through his giggles as he flopped down against the grass, staring at the sky. If he squinted, that big cloud looked a bit like a heart. It was hard to see, though; the sun was in his eyes.
Weakly raising his arms, he cupped his hands to mimic a heart shape to compare them.

It was close enough, he thought, letting his arms flop down beside him.

The blond paused when he heard the water, tilting his head up a little to see Wilbur getting out of the river as well. The brunet walked over and sat down beside where Tommy lay. The younger put his head back down, curiosity settled.

“The sky’s pretty, huh?”

Tommy hummed. It was alright. Personally, he preferred the night sky, but he’d never admit that he put enough thought into it to decide on a favourite. Well… maybe he would, one day, but not now. Not when he had more important things to worry about, like changing the future.

Like fixing his family.

“It is,” he offered, after the period of silence, “it’s alright. Isn’t there some stupid saying about how you see in the clouds what you want most?”

“There is. What do you see?”

Tommy thought about the heart.

“Nothing. I’m content as is.”

“Oh, really?” Wilbur sounded disbelieving, and rightfully so.
“I can’t see anything because of the su- wait, shit!”

The brunet abruptly stood, and Tommy sat up, concerned with the amount of urgency with which his brother had moved.

“What’s wrong, Wil?”

“The sun is almost directly in the sky.”

Tommy didn’t really get what his point was. He stood up, too, and looked to the sun’s location (not directly at it, he knew better than that), seeing that it was, in fact, practically directly above them.

“And,” Wilbur then continued, “if the sun is in the center of the sky- do you know what it means?”

“That it’s noon?”

The teen could see Wilbur nod out of the corner of his eye, and he paused. Noon… Why did it being noon matter oh so much?

Wait-
Oh.

Oh.

“Tubbo will be there before us- we’ll be late at this rate.”

“Yes,” it wasn’t a question, but Wilbur answered anyway, “we will be.”

Tommy looked back to where they had discarded their socks and shoes. He frowned.
They hadn’t been out of the water for long so they were still soaked, and going back like this wasn’t appealing in the slightest to Tommy. But, Tubbo.

He looked back to his brother, and they locked eyes. He hated the resemblance they had to the ceased madman he once knew. He hated it. He wanted it to stop. Stop looking. Stop. Stop. STOP.
Wilbur tore his eyes away, looking at their socks and shoes too. Tommy followed his gaze back to it.

“We’re leaving,” Wilbur decided, “Tubbo will be lonely if big man Tommy isn’t there to keep him company.”

“Yes, he will be,” the blond agreed, with minimal enthusiasm.
Don’t get him wrong- he did want to hang out with Tubbo, he did. But he was having fun with Wilbur, and it was easy to forget, just for a moment, that it was so much more complicated than this family bonding made it seem.

He shook his head to himself. He had to go back; he couldn’t just leave Tubbo with his family when he’d been the one to invite him.
Especially when his friend had seemed eager to leave as fast as possible the last time he was with them, seemingly uncomfortable in their company. It was a bit strange, actually- maybe he should ask about that sometime.

Ending that thought process, Tommy finally stood, grimacing at the feel of his dampened clothes, and walked over to the shoes and socks to put them back on. Wilbur had already done that before Tommy went over, it seemed, and the brunet looked back at Tommy with a small smile when he went over to stand next to his brother.

“You ready to go? Didn’t leave anything behind?”

Tommy scoffed, “What would I possibly leave behind? My shoes? That I have on?”
Maybe that was a bit excessive of a reaction, he noted, as Wilbur raised an eyebrow at him.
“I’m ready, is the point. Let’s go.”

Abruptly ending the conversation like that must not have helped Wilbur’s concerns at all, but it was all said and done now.

Usually, Tommy would speed on ahead now, but he didn’t know the way back well enough, and he was not going to risk getting lost. Not when they were probably already late and would undoubtedly get questioned.
If he got lost, it’d give Wilbur a chance to blame that lateness on him, and he’d never let that happen.

The walk back through the forest was as peaceful as the way there. Tommy didn’t expect anything otherwise, really, since by this time most monsters that had been under shade in the morning had been stupid enough to come out and get burnt.

It wasn’t only peaceful in that manner, though; it was also in the sense that neither of them talked on the way through the forest.
Well, maybe a more accurate description of the atmosphere would be ‘awkward.'

Either way, the silence continued until they were just outside the wood. It was then that Tommy remembered something.
“Hey, Wilbur.”

“Yeah?”

“Are you going to show me what it was that you were writing this morning like you said you would?”

Wilbur paused, blinking at Tommy. Tommy looked back, raising an eyebrow at his brother.

A few more seconds passed with no response. Tommy was about to say something when Wilbur abruptly began sprinting away, startling Tommy.
It took a moment for the teenager to realise the implications of that. Wilbur had made the deal to take Tommy to the river and didn’t even plan on showing him the page in return!

“Get back here, you bastard!”

Tommy ran after Wilbur. Unfortunately for him, though, Wilbur was the taller of the two. Which meant long legs, longer than Tommy’s.

The younger could at least keep Wil in sight, but couldn’t catch up to him very well. Moreover, he wasn’t really one for physical activities so he quickly tired. If he was lucky, Wilbur would soon too. It wasn’t long until they got back to the house either way, so Tommy wasn’t too worried.

When Wilbur began to slow, Tommy didn’t quite realise. He just registered that he was catching up to Wil. So, he wasn’t ready when the older just abruptly stopped- Tommy ran into him, setting them both off-balance.

Wilbur turned his head, once he regained his balance, and glared at the sheepish Tommy. Looking past his brother, only then did he realise that they were at their house.
Not only that, but the front door was open, and the pair were being watched, confusedly, by Phil and Tubbo.

“Huh. I guess Tubbo did get here before us, after all.”

Phil gave Tommy the most unamused look he could muster, and the teen shut up immediately, glancing to Wilbur who looked just as amused. Which was, not at all. Wilbur wasn’t looking at Tommy, though- he was looking at Phil.
Tommy followed his gaze.

“And where have you two been?”
Phil didn’t seem angry, which was good. Maybe just a bit exasperated, if anything.

“A river?” Tommy offered, unsure.

“The river.” Wilbur corrected, confident, “We messed around a bit there. That’s why our clothes and hair are damp.”

Somehow, Tubbo’s eyes met Tommy’s.
They were friends, Tommy knew. That didn’t make the eye contact feel any better. He still remembered…

Tubbo tilted his head. Tommy nodded.

Phil sighed.
“It’s alright, mate. Just come inside and get changed.”

Wilbur hummed in acknowledgment, walking past Tubbo and Phil to go inside the house. Tommy paused as he watched Phil follow.
That left Tommy and Tubbo.

“Everything went okay with the river?” Tubbo asked, so quietly Tommy almost thought he’d imagined it.

Tommy gave a half-smile.
“Yeah. It was fun.”

He didn’t say anything else, simply walking inside and straight to his room. Soft footsteps behind him suggested that he’d been followed by Tubbo. Not that he minded, either way.

Once he arrived in his room, he turned to Tubbo.
“I have to get changed, so-”

“Do you want me to leave?” Tubbo asked, at the same time that Tommy finished with, “-sit on the bed and look away, or something.”

There were a few more seconds of silence before Tubbo muttered a small “oh” and sat down on Tommy’s bed, looking away.

Tommy stared at the other for a few seconds, concerned. Tubbo seemed more… timid? Nervous? Shy? Than usual. Then again, he couldn’t properly remember if that was what this Tubbo was always like or if it was actually an anomaly.

It didn’t help that his other two interactions with this Tubbo hadn’t been exactly normal. The first had been a sickly sweet wholesome day between them, and the other was composed of Tommy panicking a little and Tubbo comforting him before quickly leaving.
Oh. Tommy was going to ask about why Tubbo left so quickly then, wasn’t he? But if Tubbo was already nervous, he didn’t want to accidentally make it worse.

He shook his head.

He should just get changed first. Then he could talk to Tubbo.
So, he did. He got changed, the awkward silence somewhat suffocating in the room.

“So, Tubbo,” he said once he was finished getting changed. He walked over to his bed and sat next to the older boy, making the brunet look over to him questioningly.
“What do you think about the festival, tonight?”

There was a pause in which Tubbo redirected his gaze to the floor, and Tommy waited, patiently, for him. It might’ve been out of character for the him that was supposed to be here with these people, but he found that he didn’t quite have it in him to care.

“I’m… a little nervous, actually. Scared of what might happen.”

Tommy could see that, he supposed. He was scared, too, but it was probably for a vastly different reason.

“I am too,” the blond admitted quietly, remembering what had happened in the last festival Tubbo was involved in. “Maybe I can be frightened enough for the both of us.”

Tommy hated being vulnerable like that, and he wished he could say it was worth it for the small smile on his friend’s face after he said that, but…
He didn’t know whether to feel joy that he had made his friend feel better or sorrow that he made Tubbo feel down in the first place.

Chapter Text

Talking to Tubbo was like a breath of fresh air, in a way.
In a world - in a time - of unknowns, Tommy couldn’t be more thankful for something, someone, even somewhat familiar.
He’d even go as far as to say a good in a world of bads, were you to ask him on the day Phil had taken him flying (and he hadn’t had a panic attack, thanks).

Neither of them mentioned their previous conversation, Tommy was scared to trigger some sort of panic and/or awkwardness, while Tubbo…
Well, Tommy didn’t know why.

And, there was no doubt about it, Tubbo was acting strange.
Tommy hadn’t missed the way he sometimes stared off into the distance, lost in thought. He hadn’t missed the way he sometimes looked confused for no reason, and he definitely hadn’t missed the way that, sometimes, his gaze would linger on Tommy for just a moment too long.

But, what was he supposed to do about that?
He’d seem like a right weirdo to say he noticed that shit, because he had a character to stay in and old him was far from perceptive.

So, regretfully, he stayed silent about the strangeness, though he definitely didn’t forget it.

He kept it in mind, even as Phil briefly entered the room to let them know that they had to get ready to go to the festival.

Though part of him whispered ideas of faking some sort of sickness to get him and Tubbo out of it, he wasn’t amazing at lying, and it didn’t feel morally correct anyhow.

So, sluggish as it was, he dragged himself to his bedroom door to go downstairs- to get ready to properly leave.
As he did so, however, he recognised the distinct lack of footsteps he’d expected to follow him. Bewildered, he turned around.

Tubbo was still sat on his bed, looking almost longingly out the window.

Even with the hole being dug in his chest, Tommy discreetly - but not silently - cleared his throat, watching as Tubbo turned his head to face him.

Managing a half-hearted smile, he pointed to the door and tilted his head.

’Tommy, You’re like a dog! Adorable,’ he waited for the teasing comment, ’like a- like a…. A golden retriever! Or something.’

But, as Tubbo walked past Tommy and went downstairs, away from the one who might have cared just a bit too much about this strange behaviour of his, such a comment never came.

“Tubbo… what happened to you?”
Through such a whisper, though, he’d never get an answer, would he? Maybe nothing was wrong, and Tubbo had always been like this in the past. Maybe…
Maybe Tommy’s memories couldn’t be trusted at all.

Tommy rushed after Tubbo.

The other boy hadn’t gotten far, of course, simply to the bottom of the stairs, when Tommy stumbled to be beside him.

“What’s got you rushin’ down here, heh? Nothin’s on fire, is it?”

Technoblade. Of course it was.

“Wh-?!”
He didn’t want to play this game today. And, had he a choice he wouldn’t. But, Tubbo’s presence made sure such a choice was not there.
“How would we set things on fire?!”

“Enough friction could cause a fire, we very much could’ve caused one,” Tubbo chipped in, somehow sounding a mix of excited and monotone, before walking away casually, as if nothing had even been said.

Tommy inhaled sharply, looking over to Techno who had raised an eyebrow in question.
“Is he,” to anyone else, maybe it would’ve seemed like a normal question, but the blond knew what was really being asked; “involved in your shenanigans?”

Though his gaze lingered on where Tubbo had walked off, he soon tore it away to look back to Techno.
"No," he replied, mostly sure of himself, "he- has been weird. But he's not involved in what I am."

"As far as you're aware?"

"... As far as I'm aware."

Tommy sighed.
He hated this sort of nit-picking Techno did so often. Even if Techno already knew something was greatly off, that shouldn't mean the teen got no privacy at all.

He was pretty sure, at least.

With no true goodbye to his brother, he started off after Tubbo, towards the front door.
There wasn’t much to do once there other than wait, however, because Tubbo and Tommy had never taken their shoes off.

Tubbo wasn’t the only one by the front door, though, he found, as he spotted Wilbur stood by it.

Great.

Well, maybe Tommy should’ve expected it, considering the aim was to get ready and meet up at the door to leave, but he still had some hope that there might be more time before everyone else was ready - obviously not.
They were talking, it seemed, however the blond could only make out some sort of whispering but not what, exactly, was being said.

“Hello?” Tommy tried, softer than the voice he usually imitated for the persona of his old self, “everything okay over here?”

As he thought might happen, the previous whispering quelled almost immediately. What were they talking about that could be so secretive that- that Tubbo couldn’t tell his (former?) best friend?
Well, since he couldn’t be in the know, apparently, he supposed he would never know, would he?

“Hey, Toms.”
Wilbur finally responded, voice unusually soft as well. Now, it was just plain confusing. Really, what had they talked about?
“Do you know if Techno and Dad are ready?”

After an agonisingly long pause, Tommy took a glance behind him, to the direction of which he’d last seen Techno. Evidently, Techno hadn’t followed Tommy to the front door, but the teenager would bet money that his brother hadn’t moved from where he was standing beforehand.

“Technoooo?”
He called out, loud and everything his old self ever was.
Okay - he could admit it - he couldn’t stand the soft atmosphere for any longer. It’d been around so often since the timeline(?) shift, and he was getting sick of it. It should’ve been nice, and welcoming, but Tommy didn’t do kind, he didn’t do welcoming, he did pain and war and death.
And, yeah, maybe those things were unpleasant, even he knew- but it was familiar. It was familiar, and, now, when the one person he thought was familiar wasn’t familiar at all, he needed that.

Once he heard a familiar grunt signal he’d been heard, he continued;
“Get our old man and get to the front door! We can’t wait forever, you know!”

And, while, that time, there was no verbal response, he took the faint clicking of boots walking away as a sign that he’d been heard.
Though. Techno wasn’t the flash, and neither was Phil, which meant Tommy would still be stuck with Wilbur and Tubbo and their stupid soft atmostphere for just a bit longer. To him, any time longer was too much, and as thus, he hated this.

He wondered what was even taking Phil so long. Surely, picking up a cake and moving it couldn’t take that long. For God’s sake, they had places to be!

… Irrationally angry. He was being irrationally angry, all of a sudden, he knew, but knowing didn’t help. It never did and it never would.

Knowing Wilbur was going insane back in Pogtopia didn’t mean Tommy could save him.

Knowing Tubbo was going to die by Techno’s hand didn’t mean Tommy could save him.

K̸͖̈̔͛͆n̷̨̢̬͉̞̹̯̲͚͙̝͊̈͠ő̴̡̧̧̻̮̘̜͈̱̐̎̋͠w̷̡̨̛̘̖̰̯̺̌͂͒̓̃̓͘͠͝i̴̡̻͚̺̗̣̮͚̜̭͕͝ņ̶̡̛̫̥͖̍͆͜ͅg̷̞͇̻̙̱͛̐͂̇͛̍͊͊̚͝ ̶̜͋h̷̡̝͎͎͉̗̒̑͗̕͝ȩ̵̻͓͈̝̘̰͚̫̊̐ ̷̟̭̠̎͐͐̈́́ŵ̶̹̪͉̮̦̪͗a̵̱͉͖͗̍͑͒͋͐͂̕̕s̷͖̫̜͓̓̔͐͌̈́̑̾̔͛͘͘ ̸̢̫̻̮͙̣͚́͛̍́͗̄̽̊̾̉̆ͅĝ̴̛̞̩̱͙̦̠̲͙̥̥̞̏͂͠ǫ̵̧̲̹̝̠̳͕̟͇̲̂̑̇̅̀͗̍͘͝i̷̛̞͉̎̑̆̇͂̈́̀̿͘ͅn̵͎͓͜g̸̞̮̭̦̺̻̙͊̾̍̏̈́̾̈͂͑ ̸̧̛̱̬̼̬̗͂̒̎̓̈́́ẗ̷̢̖̼̩͉̙̹̪͋͌̏̾͗͗͊̀̓͝ơ̵̪̯̓͗̚ ̴̧̨̧͓̻̜̭̟̈́̇͒͒̔̒̇̄̓d̵͈͕̼͚̙͗͑͛̇͛̋͑̓͝ǐ̶̮͌͆̌͒͐̚ę̵̧͍̗̈́͌̍̓͠ ̶̖̳̓͆͐̐a̵͇͊̂̊̅̐̓̓͠t̶͓̠̝̂ ̸̩̑̋̾̍́̽̿͜t̴̛̳h̸̨̭̼̩̪̒̏̀̉ĕ̵̜̝̥̹͓̋͒͋̾̌̊̔̏̆ ̴̺̟͇̯̋͑͋͆̐̑̆̓̋͠ẖ̷̨̡̛̖̝̠̘̳͒̋̊̓ą̸̧͈͚͍͙͔͔͚̣̣̆̍̄͝n̷͍͎̖̰̯͚͉̳̓͌d̷̢̢͓̩͎̟̹̘̩̓̌̚͜͝s̵̡̟̝͂͂̍̂̏͌̽͊ ̴̢̢̱̯͎̦͓͗̌͂͐̌̇̕͘͠ò̸͇̟̹̆͛͗f̶̨̤̖̫̺͍̻͚͑͂ͅ ̶̙̾͆̿̌̈̈̆͝͝͠ḧ̵̛̠̦̹̝́̉̌̕̚͠ǐ̶̛̛̻̘͂̀̈́̅̚͠͝s̸̬͆ ̵̡̞̠͍̹͇̊̄͂͊̚b̶̨̧̦̱͖̪̝̼͎̜͆̑̊̍r̷̬̬̗̻̻̠͔̪̯̓̈́̔̇̆̃̔̽̌̈́͠o̷̼̐̈̇͌̒̊̍̏͘ͅț̴̢̿̀̈́͒h̶̤̹̪͛̽͝e̵̡̘̟̠̼͆̊̍͌̎͑̚r̷̟̎̀̅͐̈̿̂͝ ̴̨̲͚̰͔̺̽̂͒͆d̸̢̠̏́i̶̥̟͓̰̠̮͙͎̯͌̊͂̅͛̊͒͘͘d̷̞́ń̴͔͕̻͊͂̍͌͠͝͝'̵̥̘͍͉͓̅̋̈̃̂̒͝͠t̸̥̪͉̲̉̋̎̄ ̸̢̨̱̪̣̤͉̼̇͌͐̈́̈̑̓m̵̛͓̘̰̦̰͇͉̆̔̎̂̽̈́͘̚͜͝͝ͅe̷̯͖̫͈̪͈͙͂̂̆̅͗̎̚ͅa̶̖̯̻̳͈͍͎̅̈́̎͛̀͠n̶̳̽̓̃̉͊͠ ̸̧̨̤̞͙̥̥̭̫͔̾͑̇͒̑͑̆͌̕͜h̶̰̖͖̙̬̫̓e̶̳̭̳̭̻͍̎̓ ̵̣̮̲̔̾͜s̷̨͉͎̘̝̘͔͉̯̈́̇̈ư̸̳͕̹͇͂̆͑͜r̸̘̬̦̩̙͍̗͎̹͙͆͆̆̔̽̋̌̊͛͘v̸̖̦͔̗̹̬̍̅̚ͅḯ̸̞͙̣͈̩̰̹̏v̶̭̗̬̑͘ȩ̶͉̹̍̈̔͋̔̎̅͆́͝d̶̮̹̗͚̺̓̏̌͘͝.̴̨̬̬͍̫̠̹̗̩̝̌̍̈͜

“Hey, mates.”

Tommy startled into reality, snapping round to face his former father figure. Techno, from beside Phil, gave Tommy a strange look (but when wasn’t Techno giving Tommy a strange look?) to which Tommy ignored.

He heard mumbles of “Hey, Phil,” and “Glad you’re here, Dad,” from Tubbo and Wilbur respectively, but the blond was already leaving the house to wait outside the front door. He felt he might go insane.

The teen had half a mind to give half a glance behind him to ensure his family was following to some degree, before walking ahead. He knew roughly which part of the village the festival was probably going to be in.
Okay - maybe he didn’t know at all, really. But it was fine.

It was fine, because he wasn’t going to be the one leading the way, he accepted, as he saw the one and only Technoblade stride to beside him.
In all honesty, Tommy still wasn’t used to the good old ‘protective older brother’ thing. Like, at all, but it was fine. As everything was. Just because he wasn’t used to it didn’t make it bad.

“You alright?”
Tommy hummed at the deep voice of which the question came in the form of, turning his head to look at his (oldest? He never knew who was the oldest out of those twins, or maybe he’d just long since forgotten) brother and gave a nod.

Techno didn’t respond, silently urging Tommy to elaborate; he did.

“Just a little irritated,” he cast a glance behind them, ensuring the rest of the family plus tubbo were out of ear range before continuing, “I don’t know - I’m not used to all this homliness, and it’s stressing me out, I guess.”

As Techno turned a corner, Tommy followed, “You know the way?” he asked, trying to quickly change the subject.

“No, I’m just goin’ in random directions.”
Techno drawled sarcastically in response, and - yeah, Tommy should’ve seen that one coming from a mile away.
“Of course I know the way, kiddo.”

And, unlike his past self, Tommy didn’t deflect the nickname. Kiddo- kid, kiddo. He wanted to be a kid again. To not have to act like an adult in the face of war, but at least he knew war like the back of his hand, at least it was familiar, unlike the domesticity of what he was surrounded by ever since… ever since his own death, he supposed.

Talking to Techno was always uncomfortable and awkward with all the awkward silences and neither knowing how to properly bounce off of the other, but it was nice. It was nice because, while Techno wasn’t smothering or pushing him for information he didn’t have, the ‘my way or no way’ mindset Techno seemed to adorn gave Tommy a clear path of where he was to go from here.
So, even if he usually hated new things, Tommy loved that guidance. Loved not having to be the one holding the reigns, for once.

And, the blond realised, suddenly, maybe this silence wasn’t awkward.

Maybe this silence was an acceptance. An acceptance that, yes, maybe they don’t understand each other at all right now (or maybe they never will) but there will be a mutual effort to try.

Mutual.

He took another half-glance back at the rest of his family.

Phil, Wilbur, Tubbo.

His family. His. Nobody else’s.

Looking back at his family, even Tubbo, even Tubbo, maybe not officially but even Tubbo, he decided to himself but one thing:

Maybe, he should mutually try with the rest of them, too.

Chapter Text

i
am so sorry

its been half a year since the last chapter

now comments remind me of this fic and i did say "oh the next chapter will be soon" and then
it was not soon was it

SO
as you all know we run a democracy on my fanfic because im not a dictator

but first off let me make one thing clear
I DO INTEND TO CONTINUE THIS FIC EITHER WAY

H O W E V E R

should i

[A] - just continue the fic where i left off (might feel a little disjointed because of... all the time that's passed but yknow)

OR

[B] - rewrite the whole darn thing- i must admit the writing for this wasn't my best, and i did seem to forget abt chekovs gun....... however it would obviously take longer to get back to where we were (also, if i did this, should i delete and reupload as i go or just update the existing chapters to not get rid of comments, with the risk of comments... not making sense in context anymore)

if you have any questions feel free to ask!!!
thanks for reading :]