Archive of Our Own ^beta

The cold air biting his skin is something that Tommy finds gratifying in a way that he can’t even describe. The goosebumps and the fact he needs to draw his blanket around his shoulders, even as Tubbo tries to push a jumper at him, and Tommy inevitably refuses. There’s something amazing about staring up at the stars.

The stars are a dizzying mess of not much in particular and also everything— the mass of purple scatter with lights and stars and everything Tommy loves about living. He sits on the roof of the van, Ranboo and Tubbo are laying on the bonnet of the van and all of them are staring up at the same stars— isn’t that incredible? They all stare up at the same stars— back into space, it’s amazing and Tommy wants to hold this forever.

He wants to hold the feeling of the stars that only fucking-nowhere America can have. The stars spiral around them and Tommy feels so small— not insignificant but he feels small, like the entire sky will swallow him up if he’s not careful.

It’s beautiful.

“We’re looking into the past…” Tubbo adds absent mindedly.

“Heavy handed metaphor much,” Ranboo mutters, which makes Tommy laugh from his spot on the roof.

They all ran— once upon a time, not that long ago. Tommy still doesn’t really know why he ran, he picked up his bag, he left a note and then he was in his beat down old van that he loves more than anything in the entire world.

Then Tubbo came slamming into his life the way that he always would. With a broken tyre, a threat towards Tommy and then the solo act became a duo act and suddenly they were going anywhere and everywhere around America just because they could—

Ranboo technically wasn’t even running, he was the only one who left. This was his gap year, he wasn’t running from expectations like Tommy and he wasn’t running from a family that never really cared like Tubbo.

One might call him the only stable one.

“We’ll go back,” Tubbo lies, the way that he tends to do and no one believes him but they all pretend they do anyway mostly for his sake and his sake alone. It’s almost funny— not quite, but almost. “When the road runs out— we’ll go back.”

“Nah,” Tommy says lazily, he waves his hands around— a half motion and they all know it. “I’m not goin’ back.”

“Ever?” Ranboo asks shortly, his eyes are slightly wider and he’s gonna get weird about this, the way he always gets weird about it when they talk about how they’re planning on never ever returning home ever again.

Deep, deep down, Tommy knows it’s a lie.

He’ll always return home, to the streets he grew up in. To the streets where Techno, Wilbur and him would skate down the driveway and where Phil would be so tired and so fond of them all.

Something in his blood screams at him to go home, it does that more than it doesn’t and Tommy finds an odd sort of comfort in that. A comfort in the fact that no matter how far he is away from the place he stays home, there is a piece of his heart that will return there.

Always…

He stares up back at the stars, mostly because he can and they’re planning on going back to another city because most of them will have somewhere to work— if only for a few nights and then they can hit the road again.

Tubbo likes the city, he tends to make friends there. He seems to love the night life, he seems to thrive in it. He walks around and around all the time and he makes friends— he steals money and he seems so alive whenever they’re in a city. Surrounded by big lights and faces without names and cars rushing past and cities that tower over them so high that it makes Tommy feel dizzy to look up.

They’re not in the city right now, and Tommy lets himself enjoy the world. He lets himself relax into the roof of the van. Tubbo and Ranboo are murmuring under their breath and Tommy just involves himself.

The way that they normally do when they’re lost, they decide to go to California.

He’s not sure why they spend so much time in California, it’s where Ranboo’s from and he’s still on pretty good terms with his family so sometimes when Tubbo and Tommy go out to the various jobs they can find throughout the day Ranboo goes to hang out with his family— or get money from them half of the time.

From what Tommy’s managed to gather, Ranboo's a rich kid. The one time Tubbo and him went with Ranboo they ended up in a lovely townhouse in San Francisco and that type of place needs money.

Which is great for them, considering Tubbo never has had much money to his name and Tommy was firmly middle class before he ran off in a van that was about five thousand dollars and the earnings of about his entire life from his job— funnily enough he used to work at a visitors centre, it was a bit boring but it got the job done.

They end up in California.

California is… eh, it’s a state. 

Tommy likes Michigan more— then he tries to ignore the fact he likes Michigan more.

He knows what’s behind in Michigan and he misses it.

Arizona… that’s… there.

Nevada, that sure is a state that he’s been to.

Texas is… a place and Tommy doesn’t hate it all the time just because of all the odd things he’s seen in rural Texas— one time he saw an alligator on a lead and then he just… wasn’t allowed to question it.

California isn’t cold even in Winter— to be fair Michigan isn’t overly cold either but at least it snows there.

And so starts ‘the grind’ as Tommy has dubbed it. The journey that Tubbo and Tommy (and sometimes Ranboo) go on in order to get money. Working at backhole places or slightly dodgy hotels are the best, they’ll just give you the cash and you give them the work.

Tubbo’s speciality appears to be bars, it’s kinda the thing he does and does very well when he puts his mind to it. He’s good at dealing with the drunk people— the ones who are yelling or being weird or violent.

In hushed voices one night, Tubbo told him why.

Tommy agreed to never tell anyone else, and never ask about it again if Tubbo didn’t want to.

This time however, it’s Tommy at the bar. Tubbo’s… helping someone move, that’s what Tommy can remember. He took the keys, took the Ranboo with his long arms and then drove off to wherever saying he’d pick Tommy up at one.

Which was a reasonable time for a bar shift just— yeah.

The woman who has decided to take pity on him is a woman called Niki. She has piercings and blonde hair that falls into her face. It looks brown at the roots— not super brown, but a little. She has bits of other colours in her hair, like she wasn’t able to fully dye her hair.

It doesn’t matter at all, but Tommy just finds it interesting.

She’s the person in charge here. 

Like most bars everyone here wears all black, Niki makes it cool though. She has chunky combat boots on and a denim jacket thrown over the top of that. The denim jacket itself is incredibly cool— it has a picture of a rose on it.

“I painted it myself,” Niki says when Tommy asks.

And like that Tommy has found the coolest person in the history of the entire world in Niki because holy shit she’s so cool. She is literally the coolest person Tommy knows and he has watched Tubbo run from cops on a sprained ankle, and he hopped over three fences to do it.

Niki shrugs the jacket off and holds it out.

“You can have it,” she says, “I have another one that I like the flower on it more.”

Tommy takes the jacket, he turns to Wilbur to point out how cool the jacket is—

But he’s not standing there.

Of course he’s not.

Tommy’s the one who left, running away from their little town where everything was great. He stares at the flower on the jacket. Wilbur had one like this… not completely, instead of one big flower there was a flower patch that he sewed onto the back of it. He’d said that Tommy would get the jacket when he turned twenty-one.

“Tommy?” Niki says, and Tommy looks up at her.

“Huh?”

“You alright?”

“Yeah— yeah,” Tommy swings the denim jacket on, it’s a bit too big for him which is shocking in itself considering he’s taller than Niki. “This is yours?”

“The jacket wasn’t,” Niki says easily. “I got it from someone doing a gig here. It fit nice though and I liked the colour so I painted it.”

Tommy nods. “Do you mind?”

Something flashes in Niki’s eyes. She shakes her head.

So that is how Tommy acquires a new jacket.

Bar work is pretty easy, the occasional meal, the occasional making a drink you have no idea how to make. Generally just making it up and having a great time.

Eventually Tommy gets his legally required break and he follows Niki out into the parking lot where she sits on one of the crates. Tommy pulls the crate out next to her and sits down next to her.

“So…” Niki says, “Where you from?”

“Michigan.”

“You’re a long way from home.”

“Home,” Tommy laughs, “Yeah… you could say that.”

He leans his head against the building behind him and Niki just looks at him for a long moment. She doesn’t say anything, she just stays quiet and watches as he sighs, it’s a long deep sigh too. 

“Yeah— from Michigan, takin’ a gap year.”

“What’s your last name again?” Niki asks.

Tommy raises an eyebrow at her, “Watson.”

She nods and leans back on her seat, she gives Tommy a look before looking away. Behind her she pulls out two water bottles and offers one out to Tommy. Tommy takes it gratefully, he shouldn’t be having wall water, but he doesn’t care.

“Do you know a Watson from Michigan?”

“Nah…” Niki says, “Well apart from you. But Watson’s a pretty common last name so— y’know.”

“Yeah, there were like five other Watson families in my school,” Tommy says.

He goes to turn to Phil to prompt him to tell the story about the time where he went to the wrong parent teacher interview and got confused as to why ‘Techno’ was being praised for being a quiet and diligent student.

Which he was not.

Tommy would tell it but Phil’s always been better at it—

And Phil’s not sitting next to him. He’s hours away.

Tommy shakes his head, mostly at himself because how could he be— so stupid, so fucking stupid because he left and Phil wouldn’t have known where to look and Tommy’s an idiot for thinking that even if Phil was next to him he’d think of Tommy as his son— someone worthy to tell the story.

He sips at his water bottle and looks at Niki. “One time my dad went to my brother’s parent teacher interview—” this isn’t how Phil tells the story. “And he went there, and was shocked to hear that apparently my brother was a good student— then my dad found out that he was at the parent teacher interview for another student.”

Niki snorts at that.

“It was hilarious,” Tommy says with a nod. “Like… so fucking funny it’s unreal. And then— some poor parents were being grilled about my brother and how he kept fighting people and it was incredibly confusing and hilarious. Te— my brother didn’t even get into trouble.”

“None?” Niki says lightly. “Not like… any.”

“Well… no,” Tommy says, “A little but it was too funny for Dad to be mad at him for long.”

Niki gives a fond smile. “That sounds lovely Tommy, your family sounds lovely.”

Tommy hesitates for a moment. “Yeah…” he agrees, because he does. Wilbur is funny and Phil is kind and Techno is strong and funny and smart and he loves them all. He loves the way that Wilbur plays guitar and weaves songs out of thin air and the way that Techno will make Tommy sit down and rant about something he just learnt and the way that Phil and him used to cook because it was their thing. 

He misses cooking with Phil.

Wait— he misses cooking with Phil.

He’s not supposed to be missing his family, he’s the one that left. He doesn’t get that right. He doesn’t get the privilege to miss them, he doesn’t deserve it not after— running and leaving them behind.

“In what way?” Niki pushes.

It’s a push to talk, an invitation and both of them take it.

Tommy finds himself taking it.

“Well…” he starts, unsure of what to say. “Techno— he’s Wilbur’s twin, it’s all very complicated because they’re not actually twins but they say there are because they have a similar facial structure and— yeah. But he’s the creative one— well we all are in some ways, but he’s the music guy. He makes songs and writes music and… yeah that’s important but that’s not what Wilbur is. He’s just… so much more and I adore him.”

Niki tilts her head at him. 

It’s yet another invitation.

Tommy takes it.

“Wilbur’s the kinda guy, that will bully you relentlessly. Then as soon as someone insults you slightly and makes you upset he’ll defend you. Sometimes he used to sit outside my door when I was upset and play his guitar and sing. He’d sing ‘Fly Me to the Moon’ actually— which was funny because he barely knows the words.”

Niki laughs.

“Techno…” Tommy says slowly, “He’s just… everything. He’s one of the smartest people I know. He can talk and talk and then talk a little more about everything and anything and I enjoy every second of it. He just talks and I watch it and he talks about everything and I listen because he can make even the most boring things sound interesting and you sit on the edge of your seat trying to listen to all of it because how could you not? It’s amazing and he’s just— so good at telling stories. And then on top of all of that he’s just kinda— nice, like sweet. Not in the loud way that Wilbur is but he’s quiet in the best way possible, he’ll like do your dishes or put something you left out in the fridge or take in the washing just because he can and just because it’s something nice to do. He never expects anything in return and he’s just… such a good person. I look up to him a lot.”

Niki’s face goes all soft and gentle. “They sound amazing.”

“And Phil!” Tommy stands up this time, and he starts pacing backwards and forwards. Just up and down the parking lot because he can. “He’s so good and for what— he’s like the kinda guy you see in movies. You meet him and you’re like… this guy can not be real. Because he’s so kind and he’s so funny and… no he doesn’t have neverending patience he gets pissed off with us a lot but he’s just a good guy.”

Niki’s grin is so wide that it looks nearly painful.

“Like… he’s just understanding— he has a rule in his house where if you can explain yourself you can put the conversation off until the next morning or twenty-four hours or whatever and like… who does that? Or when you’re sad he makes your favourite food— or he gets you a book or he just slowly gives you things and like— I think that’s his love language y’know gift giving which is so fuckin’ sweet and he’s just such a cool person. And I adore him. Like— he shouldn’t be real! But he is and he’s just such a cool person because of it.”

She wipes at her eyes.

“Niki?”

“Sorry— sorry,” Niki says wiping at her eyes. “Just… just reminds me of a situation I know— kid ran away and their family thinks that they must hate them. And— it’s just nice to hear that they don’t.”

“I don’t think—” Tommy hesitates. “I don’t think running means you hate them… or even that a family did something wrong. I— I ran because I didn’t want to live life the way that everyone expected me to. I wanted to live and see the sun and just— not conform to that nine to five lifestyle yet.”

“I get that.”

And Tommy feels like she does.

With a sigh Tommy adjusts the jacket now hanging off his frame and runs a hand down his face. 

Niki stands up. “C’mon. We got a couple hours left.”

The work is mind numbing and somewhere Tommy is aware that he’s doing things that should be interesting. He’s parting a fight and cleaning up smashed glass and sweeping and doing dishes and serving food.

But he’s started to be able to turn his brain off while doing things like this. It’s a skill he’s glad he’s gotten, especially for the shittier shifts where he just wants to melt into the ground and stay there forever and ever and maybe a little bit longer.

This one’s been alright, but Tommy’s bored and when he’s bored he starts thinking.

And… he thinks of home— ain’t it funny. He doesn’t see the van but he sees the place he ran from. The small house of his childhood.

It’s not a very big house but it was a blue suburban house. It had flowers at the front that Techno and Phil took care of very carefully— it was like their thing. Wilbur and Phil had driving, Techno and Phil had gardening and Tommy and Phil had cooking. 

The path leading up to the house from the sidewalk was cracked in some places and falling apart in others. Phil always said he’d fix it but he never did. 

Throughout Tommy’s childhood things were littered on the lawn. Bikes, those hockey goals that they’d drag into the street and then Tommy would try to learn to roller skate. One time he left his maths textbook on the lawn and picked it up in the morning. The security cameras showed that someone went to take it, saw the first page and put it back gently.

The roof was made of… corrugated iron. He thinks he remembers Wilbur talking about it. The stairs were brick and there was a cracked brick on the left side, Phil had filled that in a couple times but apparently fate said that it had to be broken.

On one of the posts of the small fence that surrounded the porch area at the front of the house was a little scribble. It said his name— and Techno’s written under it in a remarkably neat scrawl that Tommy used to stare at for a long time. Underneath both of those, in a purple marker was Wilbur’s name.

It wasn’t very well signed, and if Tommy remembers correctly Wilbur was being rushed to go to school but didn’t want to feel left out.

Tommy doesn’t think Phil’s moved.

He talked about wanting to retire there— or stay there until he retires and while Tommy has been gone for a while he hasn’t been gone that long.

“Tommy?”

Niki’s voice snaps him out of whatever this is and he looks up from his spot at the counter where he’s staring rather intensely.

“Huh— wha’?”

“You… you doin’ alright?” Niki says slowly.

Tommy nods. “Yeah— just thinkin’?”

“‘Bout what?”

“Pass.”

Niki sighs softly, but she respects what Tommy’s said and drops the subject. “See you here tomorrow?”

Tommy checks the time on his phone.

It is one in the morning— a little bit past and he can basically feel Tubbo yelling at him in the van. That makes Tommy laugh and stand up.

“Be here tomorrow?” Niki asks gently. It’s only a recommendation, a suggestion. It doesn’t mean that he has to and Tommy is so incredibly grateful for that, that it’s almost not funny. It’s a suggestion and—

“Yeah,” Tommy says, “Be here tomorrow for sure.”

Niki smiles at him. “Might have more jackets to give you.”

“Might have more rants to give.”

And so they depart like that, Tommy gets to the van about ten minutes late. Both Ranboo and Tubbo look exhausted and also like they’re both going to kill him. Which… is probably fair, he’s just not sure why yet.

“What did I do?”

“Nothing,” Ranboo says, “Tubbo’s just in a bad mood and I didn’t want him to feel left out.”

They have dinner, and by dinner they mean that they sit on the floor of the van. Surrounded by the blankets that they call their beds and bags filled with various clothes and other things they’ve collected while crossing this bitch of a country.

Dinner is one of those events that for them matters a lot more than it probably should. It’s important because they can all sit down and just… talk and eat and laugh about anything. At this point it’s almost tradition, to sit down and eat.

They do it every day and there’s something comforting in that.

Today Tubbo has several apples, which you might not think is a dinner food but Tommy thinks they’re one of the best. He’s probably eaten about a thousand apples while on this trip and every one is just as good.

Tubbo munches as they sit there.

“Then,” he says easily, apple half shoved into his face. “Then she has the audacity to be mad at us ? Like I’m sorry you didn’t package your television correctly and when she pointed that out she yelled at me like I was a child. Technically I am a child but they don’t need to fuckin’ mention that.”

“I think I do need to fuckin’ mention that.”

“Shut the fuck up Tommy.”

Tommy decides to shut the fuck up.

It’s a pretty good decision if he’s being completely fair to himself. He crunches on his apple and Tubbo leans back in his seat. “I just think… like why. Y’know. Why would you be a dickhead? We were helping you and being underpaid for it and then you fucked up and— arrgh.”

Tommy laughs at that, shaking his head slightly before giving Tubbo a punch in the shoulder. This in itself he doesn’t seem to be an overly big fan of because he throws an apple at Tommy’s head.

It makes a rather impressive noise before rolling on the ground.

“Anyway,” Ranboo picks the apple up off the ground and bites into it. The ground is not clean at all, there’s dirt and grime and Tommy doesn’t like sleeping on it without about three layers of blankets underneath him let alone eating something off of it. “Tommy how was your day? Do anything interesting?” Ranboo says with a crunch. 

“Uh—” Tommy pauses, “Oh, yeah! I got a jacket.” He shuffles over to the bag which he takes the jacket out of. “My supervisor gave it to me— which was pretty cool. She’s a good supervisor y’know, very chill and friendly with me. I talked for a bit about… uh my family.”

Ranboo raises an eyebrow, Tubbo looks equally shocked.

“Was she like… threatening you?” Tubbo asks.

“No, no, no,” Tommy screws up his face. He pauses for a moment, hesitating because he doesn’t know what else he’s supposed to say. “It was nice to talk about them— just for a bit, with someone who isn’t you two.”

Ranboo laughs at that, a full wheezing laugh and Tommy tactfully ignores him. Like the chad he is.

“I just…” Tommy runs a hand through his hair. “I… I don’t miss them as such. Well maybe I do— but I keep turning to tell one of them something. I keep turning to tell Techno about how my day’s been or almost call out for Wilbur when I hear a song with a good beat or want to comment on food like Phil’s sitting in front of me. But they’re not— because they’re in Michigan and I’m sitting in a beat up van I own and sleeping on the dirt floor with like three whole dollars to my name.”

“I saw your bank account you have more—”

“Three dollars to my name,” Tommy repeats and that makes Ranboo smile a little. “It’s just— I don’t miss them. Maybe I do? I dunno, I like this. I like being able to talk and do what I want and be what I want and just… live but I also like being at home. I like talking to my family I like…”

Tommy sighs, before laying down on top of his sleeping bag staring at the roof. 

“So…” Ranboo says slowly. “You miss them but you don’t miss capitalism.”

“Yeah basically…” Tommy pauses for a few more moments, thinking about it. “Yeah, that’s pretty accurate if I’m being honest. I miss them, like the people— but I don’t miss the life I was expected to live. The life that I don’t want to live. Not at all. And I care about you two a lot and I don’t wanna go back to a world where you two aren’t by my side.”

Tubbo looks at him curiously, he doesn’t say anything but Tommy can see the cogs turning in his mind. “Welp,” Tubbo says, “I have another job lined up for tomorrow, gotta sleep, goodnight!”

It’s an abrupt end to the conversation and they all know it.

But there’s something relaxing about sleeping in the van, he knows that’s a bit weird. To find the comfort that he does in the van, a dodgy thing which technically doesn’t lock right and anyone can break into. But he’s been sleeping in it since… just about ever it feels like another home to him.

The rain against the window or the warmness of the summer or—

It feels like Tommy grew up here, in a weird sorta way— a good sorta way but a weird sorta way. He grew for sure, as a person and as a friend and now… he’s by his two best friends that he might ever have and it feels like the walls of the van around them will keep them safe.

So, as he tends to do, he closes his eyes and finds himself falling asleep before he can have too many feelings about it.

The problem with the van is that you can’t block the windows so it is almost inevitable that you have to wake up at an awful time because of the sun. In Summer this was awful. In Winter it’s amazing because he has a pretty reliable way to wake up at about eight.

This time what wakes him up is Tubbo galavanting around, hitting into things the way that he does. Before managing to find his things and leaving the van for the campsite.

Yes, they know every campsite in the fucking country with running water.

And yes they are on a first name basis with the lovely couple that runs this one, (Kayla and Erika) and they do get a free spot here because of how often they’re here— in fact this one is reserved for one.

Tommy rolls awake, basically hitting into Ranboo who swats at him, half asleep.

In return for that kinda disrespect he swats at Ranboo.

Eventually they both wake up, and so the day passes.

They spend it getting ready, then getting more food to be able to store in the van for if things start going terribly wrong and they get stranded in Iowa again— yes this has happened twice and Tommy’s not really sure how.

They spend the day mostly killing time, walking around because they can before Tubbo drops Tommy off at the bar and Ranboo and him fuck off to… whatever they’re doing today. Tommy thinks it’s fruit picking but he’s not sure why they didn’t do it earlier.

Niki meets him cheerfully as always and so starts the shift.

No one does anything overly stand-out, if Tommy can remember correctly and he might not be able to because all the days shift into one sorta… grey mass of working and then working a bit more and then working after.

He serves people, he cleans floors, he passes off the bathroom jobs to some other poor underpaid worker who does it because Tommy is rather charming—

That’s a lie but it works because he doesn’t have to clean the bathroom. Which is always amazing for him.

He takes his break when Niki doesn’t because he doesn’t want to have to deal with another conversation about his family. Which feels a bit mean when he initiated the conversation but what’s he supposed to do about it? He doesn’t want to talk about it and if that means avoiding Niki then he can do that.

Eventually he doesn’t manage to escape, they’re both cleaning glasses together when everyone’s left and it’s just a few people scattered about.

He tries to stay quiet— and reserved and all those good things, really he does.

Niki manages to comment on him before Tommy’s told her anything, maybe she’s just amazing at reading eyes and expressions. Maybe it’s something else. 

“You look upset.”

“I— yeah.”

“Do you want to tell me why?”

He doesn’t.

But Niki is kind and she knows what she’s doing and she actually cares.

“I miss… I think I miss someone— I’m not really sure if I do or not.”

“Who are you missing?” Niki says gently, she polishes one of the glasses before putting it under the bar. Tommy does the same thing because he’s ever been the one to follow instructions. “Why are you a kid on the run?”

“I— it got too much.”

Niki looks at him curiously.

“I was—” Tommy laughs, screwing up his nose. “I was a gifted kid. Amazing at humanities and everyone said I’d go to college— I’d be amazing there. I’d become a professor or a best-selling order or something else incredible and instead I… didn’t want to.”

“Didn’t want to?” Niki says.

“Didn’t want to be— well anything,” Tommy polishes another glass and sets it down. “I was just… me and I didn’t want to have to be anything. I just wanted to be— well I wanted to make my family happy. Then I realised I was so unhappy, I was so incredibly unhappy and I was trying to be what everyone thought I should have been and—” Tommy shrugs one of his shoulders. “I guess I just ran.”

Niki gives him a look, it’s not a sympathetic look. It’s not a sad look either, it’s just a look. Like she’s really trying to understand Tommy and Tommy feels understood and he’s not sure how to feel about that.

“Do you miss them?”

Tommy almost says no— he almost lets himself lie about this. It stays on the edge of his tongue and he opens his mouth. He closes it again before sighing softly.

“More than anything,” he confesses— “I miss them… more than I’ve missed anyone in my life.”

Niki looks at him, gentle but sure. “Go home, Tommy. Go home.”

He shakes his head, picking up another shot glass this time before running the rag along it. “I— they’re not gonna be happy with me, and I don’t want to deal with that.”

“Were you close?” Niki asks, “You told me about them yesterday but— were you really close?”

Tommy nods, “More than anything. If you ignored the entire foster kid bit— and the trauma that comes with that we’re the perfect family, close and we cared about each other and we’d argue but never fight and— well that’s ruined,” Tommy laughs at that and Niki smiles.

“They miss you, Tommy,” Niki says.

“Do you know them?”

“Yes, actually,” Niki replies, “Wilbur’s band has played here a couple of times.”

“Oh—”

And suddenly it makes sense, the reason Niki cried when he told his story. The reason the jacket Tommy has is too big for him— it must have used to be Wilbur’s before he gave it to Niki. Tommy stares at Niki with wide eyes, his mouth is fully on the ground.

“The jacket—”

Niki nods, there’s something sad there. “He hoped… that maybe you’d show up here while working your way around the country. Gave me a photo and said to give you the jacket… said to say that it wasn’t from him.”

Tommy looks down at the jacket that he’s wearing now. The denim jacket— it was Wilbur’s once upon a time and something in that is welcoming and it makes him feel at home. It was Wilbur’s jacket… what else can he say?

Wilbur still cares— well he has to.

Niki seems to know what he’s thinking, she seems to be able to tell the look in his eyes and see the part of him that wants to go home. She hesitates for a second, opening and closing her mouth and probably figuring out the best way to say what she’s thinking.

Tommy puts another glass down.

“Techno and Wilbur are going back for Christmas,” Niki says kindly. “You were there last Christmas— Wilbur talked about how difficult he thinks it’s going to be without you.”

Tommy just looks down.

“Tommy,” Niki says, “Please— please go home. I think you’re tired of running— if you don’t want to go back after that, then that’s okay. But I think all of you need some sort of closure. All of you deserve it.”

He ignores her, polishing the final glasses and looking at her. “Where’s my pay?”

Niki sighs and hands over the money for the night.

Tommy pockets it, and walks out.

For the rest of the night he can’t stop thinking about it. 

As they eat their shitty dinner because they’re trying to save money for gas.

While Ranboo reads his book and Tommy scrolls on his phone and Tubbo does various… Tubbo things. He’s not sure what that means exactly but he stands by it. Most things Tubbo does can be explained with the sentence “various Tubbo things.”

Eventually they all settle down.

Tommy’s still thinking about it, about going home.

He can basically taste the air, the smell of something charred always because their cooking isn’t amazing. The smell of the lounge room and the fabric there and everything— he misses everything and anything.

In the back of his brain the fire crackles— the fire that would crackle around midnight. Tommy draws the sleeping bag around him more. He’s shaking— not  a lot but enough that he realises that he’s cold.

He misses the warm fire.

Toasting marshmallows and then not eating them because marshmallows suck, making smores even though none of them knew how to. Fighting over the spot in front of the fire with Techno when it was snowing.

He misses home—

This is a home, but it’s not his home.

This was temporary.

Ranboo snores loudly next to them. Tubbo’s still up, his face illuminated by the blue light of the laptop as he works on whatever project he’s currently working on.

“Tubbo?” Tommy says.

He must say it in a voice that’s important because Tubbo looks up from his work, looks up and at him, he screws up his nose and Tommy takes a deep breath. For some reason he feels nervous about this.

“I think—” he sighs, running a hand through his hair which makes it stick up in a bunch of directions. He falls quiet again. “Do you ever want to go home?”

“That was never my home, Tommy,” Tubbo screws up his face. “The house I was raised in— the house I grew up in? That wasn’t home.”

Tommy stares at Tubbo. Somehow he’s not cold which is impressive, and Tommy is out here looking like a little cocoon which honestly he loves for him. It’s quiet, and Ranboo’s snoring and bad and—

He doesn’t want to give this up either.

A part of him wants both of these worlds, one where he can drive across the country on a whim and one where he… he can’t explain it. He can’t explain it apart from calling it warmth… warmth and Tommy has been cold for so long. He misses the warmth of his family— and— he wants to go home.

Yes. He wants to go home.

“I— I wanna go home,” Tommy says.

Tubbo looks at him, nothing on his face changes. He manages to not react for a moment, like he’s seriously debating it. And— well, Tommy is grateful for that pause because it means Tubbo’s not rushing.

“Yeah…” Tubbo says, before nodding his head. “I think it’s time you headed home.”

“Will you and— Ran be alright without me?

Tubbo laughs, and he nods. “Of course we will, stupid,” and it’s said with enough fondness and kindness that it melts something inside of Tommy’s heart. “It’s not like you’re gone and gone forever, you’re still our friend— we’re still gonna talk— maybe go on day trips if you want.”

Tommy just looks at him.

“It takes more than a couple of kilometres— miles— whatever the yanks say to separate us.” Tubbo’s eyes wander over to where Ranboo is laying on the ground. “He’s from Cali— you found me in Florida and you’re from Michigan.”

“Yeah,” Tommy says with a smile. “Guess I am.”

“Yup,” Tubbo says cheerfully, “And— we will stay friends, even if we’re on opposite sides of the country. Even if we don’t talk for days and days and days— we’re friends y’know? There’s just… something there, I can’t describe it better than that.”

“It’s just there?”

“Yeah,” Tubbo gestures around him. “You don’t do all of this— without leaving a piece of yourself behind with the people you’re with. We’ve been on the road for— five months together… we’re not gonna lose that just because you’re not in the van with us anymore.”

Tommy wiggles down in his sleeping bag more. “When did you get so smart?”

“And when did you get so dumb?” He responds, there’s a smile in his voice which Tommy matches. “Go home, Tommy. Go home.”

Tommy nods to himself, before rolling onto his back.

“I might not be back in time for Christmas. It’s a thirty-three hour drive.”

“Well…” Tubbo stands up. “It’s Christmas-Eve-Eve. And we need to get you home in time for Christmas. Time to start driving—”

“No, Tubbo really—”

“Nonsense,” Tubbo says, brushing Tommy away. He looks at Tommy, there’s something sad in his eyes. Something a little more desperate than there normally is. “Please— let me do this for you. Let Ran and I— let us do this for you.”

Tommy stares at Tubbo for a moment.

Then he nods.

“Okay…” he says quietly, “But I’m going to do at least some of the driving.”

Tubbo rolls his eyes. “Whatever— I’m waking up Ranboo first. Get some rest.”

And so starts the thirty-five hour drive to Michigan from the land of California. Tommy sleeps for the first few hours of it, and it’s peaceful.

When he wakes up they’re in Utah… 

Ranboo takes over the driving in Utah and they keep driving. They stop for McDonald’s hashbrowns which they eat like they’re the only food they’ve ever had. They drive and drive and—

Tommy can feel his nerves. They’re eating him up inside— he feels so nervous. He’s tapping his leg and generally making various Tommy distressed noises. He bounces his legs like there’s no tomorrow as he sits in the passenger side— much to Ranboo’s annoyance.

“Dude,” Ranboo says, “I’m driving, don't distract me.”

“Sorry,” Tommy says and he’s not sorry at all— like not even in the slightest and this seems to horrify both of his friends… just a little, not a lot. He sits there, leaning against the seat and not saying much.

Then he starts bouncing his leg again.

“Tommy—”

“I’m sorry! Just— really nervous like what if they’re mad at me or they throw me out or—”

“Doesn’t matter,” Tubbo says. “None of it matters. You needed to go home— and that— sadly it might not be home anymore. No matter how much you want it to be. But from what you’ve told me about them, they care about you and you care about them.”

“And?” Tommy says.

“Sometimes it’s that simple,” Tubbo responds easily. “Just— caring about each other will solve more arguments than you think. And I know that’s hard to hear because of course it is. But I don’t think they’ll be mad.”

“Ever?”

“No, no,” Tubbo shakes his head and laughs. There’s something fond in that laugh, something that makes Tommy smile. “They’re gonna be pissed— but not straight away, and they’re not going to throw you out because of it.”

“You sure?”

“Nope!” Tubbo says cheerfully, “Not even a little. But from what I’ve heard of them— you’ll be alright Tommy. They care more about you than you think.”

Tommy goes quiet and he keeps bouncing his leg, he knows that in the back of his mind that this is a terrible idea and he shouldn’t be bouncing his leg at all. Instead he keeps bouncing his leg.

At Denver they get something to eat, and Tommy prepares for the late night shift— by that they mean he’s going to switch with Tubbo again at Lexington before it gets too late. Lexington appears to be one of those towns— the ones on the edge of everything.

The thing about Iowa is that it is… very green, very flat and very boring to drive. It’s colder out so Tommy pumps up the heater.

Sometimes he’ll see something exciting like… a cow.

Then it gets darker and then he can no longer see cows. So he can only be entertained by… trucks and other exciting things. Like a cool car and…

Yeah that’s about it, Tommy gets eight hours of driving in what is basically darkness— and trucks driving past and sometimes if he’s lucky he’ll get an overly neat car. He’s aware that it’s Christmas… it’s Christmas day now— and most people don’t need to transverse eacross the country, so that clears up the roads a little but… it’s boring.

Could everyone be on the road just so Tommy can have an entertaining drive.

A bit past one thirty he pulls into Iowa City, the only place in Iowa where there are actually people who do people things. Even then— it feels like a bit of a tourism town so maybe no one lives in Iowa?

Wait Tubbo’s from Iowa—

He swaps over with Ranboo, who is apparently doing the final stretch.

When Tommy wakes up— he’ll be back in Michigan.

It’s been… months… six months since he set foot back in Michigan, he’s been avoiding it the best he could this entire time and now he’s going to be there when he wakes up.

So— he falls into an uneasy sleep, he thinks he must toss and turn about a million times, and when the sun starts to shine through the car windows he wakes up. Seven-thirty— they’re technically there.

Tommy stands up, almost falling over because Ranboo takes a particularly sharp turn— he’s aware that driving with people sleeping in the back is very illegal and shouldn’t be done. Normally they don’t—

But Tommy has to be home— they all seem to agree that this one time it doesn’t matter. There’s a destination in mind and a time to get there.

With great difficulty he clambers over the central control and sits in the passenger side, glancing at Ranboo who surprisingly doesn’t seem overly tired. Which is always good and Tommy’s glad he doesn’t look like he’s about to pass out.

Okay— he does a little, but Ranboo’s just always kinda looked like that.

He forever looks tired, this fine morning he looks no more tired than usual.

“What do you want for breakfast?” Ranboo asks, glancing out his mirror before indicating onto the other lane. “We can get Dunkin’ or McDonald’s—”

“I mean the hashbrowns are a bit of a staple,” Tommy says, “We get them whenever anything goes slightly wrong in our lives. And it’s amazing— I love hashbrowns.”

“Well,” Ranboo glances around, before looking at his phone connected to the speaker system. As it mostly does when Ranboo drives, he’s playing Lemon Demon, at a normal volume so it didn’t wake up Tubbo and Tommy, he assumes. “Get us to a McDonald’s.”

Tommy remembers that he used to not be able to give directions— like even slightly, it was not pretty in the slightest. Trying to drive them anywhere was an interesting journey merely because he just… didn’t know how to direct.

Techno hated it, Phil found it annoying and Wilbur found it so funny one time he laughed so hard he actually damaged his throat.

That was when he was supposed to be directing a roadtrip to California and they somehow ended up in New York.

Now Tommy can navigate these roads like they’re a second home, and maybe in some ways they are.

“Okay,” Tommy says, “You’re gonna wanna get on the farthest lane, the second exit will take you around off the freeway then you’re gonna wanna— yeah follow the road that takes you off until you see the good ol’ golden arches.”

Because Tommy is the only navigator ever they get there easily.

Ranboo and Tommy get out of the car, before going inside— mostly because if they went through the drive through they’d see a Tubbo sleeping in the back which is highly illegal and also not great.

Tommy’s almost home, he doesn’t want his frist port of contact with his family in about six months to be his one call in a police station. Although that would be funny— now that he thinks about it. Phil would probably never forgive him.

It would be hilarious though.

Ranboo is in charge of ordering. So he orders fifty dollars worth of hashbrowns— which is a lot of money but Ranboo assures him that they can both afford it and that Ranboo wants to do this for his friends.

“Are you scared?” Ranboo asks, they’re sitting down waiting for their twenty-five hashbrown order. Which is a lot but they’ll eat it. “Of— of going back.”

“Yup,” Tommy says. “Fuckin’ terrified. Like… really terrified. My hands get all shaky and then I feel all ill about it. It’s… not great, I will level with you.”

“You’ll be okay,” Ranboo says softly. “They care about you.”

Tommy smiles, giving him a side eye glance. “Everyone keeps saying that.”

“If they care about you— a fraction of the way Tubbo and I care about you, and from what you’ve told us through stories and laughing and memories… you’ll be okay.”

“Returning home is the hard part.”

“Yup…” Ranboo mutters. “Always is.”

“I miss it though—” Tommy says, “I didn’t realise I did until I basically… got told I did and suddenly everything makes a little bit more sense.”

Ranboo nods.

Their order gets announced and Ranboo stands up to collect the bag. 

When they get back to the van, Tubbo’s awake— looking very groggy and like he’d literally rather be anywhere else. But he’s awake, and at the sight of hashbrowns he lightens up and gives Ranboo his best grabby hands.

“Gimme food.”

“Geez,” Ranboo answers. “Is that the only reason you keep me around?”

“Yup. Food.”

Ranboo obliges and hands Tubbo his share of the hashbrowns. Eight— but Tommy gets nine because he’s the favourite and also it might be his last day on the road. And somehow… a single hashbrown more is an excellent descriptor of their friendship.

It’s just…. nice.

They eat their hashbrowns in silence. They’re surprisingly filling for how small they are. They munch away at those like there’s no tomorrow, it’s a good time.

Eventually they have more wrappers on the ground, which Ranboo collects up and chucks in the bin.

Ranboo sighs, “Google maps says we have forty minutes with good traffic until we’re there.”

“Well… up to an hour,” Tubbo returns, “It’s Christmas morning. This is America for some reason y’all go see movies after opening presents—”

“Y’all?” Ranboo repeats, “You were born here!”

“Raised in England,” Tubbo has a wide, cheeky grin on his face, the way that Tubbo tends to have. He doesn’t say anything else for a moment and instead just… eat his hashbrown. “Isn’t it also tradition to have Chinese on Christmas or Christmas Eve?”

“Yeah,” Tommy says, “Because everywhere else is closed because of God or whatever.”

“We should eat Chinese more…” Ranboo mutters and that is a statement that Tommy can get behind easily. Because it’s very true, they should eat Chinese more. Then Tommy realises that when Ranboo says ‘we’ or ‘us’ soon that’s not gonna include Tommy. Soon Tommy’s going to be the word added on the end of sentences and—

“Get out of your own head,” Tubbo says, “You’re still important to us.”

“But—”

“Shh,” Tubbo claps his hand over Tommy’s mouth. “We’ll call you like everyday— if you want— if you want to go home. Then you should be able to finally go home. It’s been so long for you, and it’s been stressful on you, even if you say it isn’t.”

“It— yeah.”

“But now you have all these amazing stories and a pretty amazing friend and— Ranboo I guess.”

“Oi!” Ranboo yells.

Tubbo grins at him, before looking back at Tommy. There’s something fonder on his face, something almost gentle (not that Tommy would ever admit that Tubbo would personally put him in an early grave which is not the vibe.) Tubbo gives a smaller smile, more reserved and somehow Tommy feels like that’s his Tommy smile— a fond little thing that he only does sometimes.

He glances at Ranboo who’s looking at him with that same level of softness. His eyes are all wrinkled up at the edges in a way that they never used to do before they met him. He gives Tommy a pat on the back. 

And yeah… Tommy found his two best friends on the road and he is not planning on giving them up anytime soon. Whether they want that or not— it’s too bad because Tommy is here and he loves his friends and he refuses to falter or misstep because he is here.

He has his best friend, he has a van that he thinks he’s going to give them. He has a couple thousand dollars to his name and he has a home.

And— that’s about all he thinks that he needs.

Tommy doesn’t say anything else, instead leaning back against the wall of the van. “I haven’t changed that much… right?”

“I mean you can put your hair in a ponytail now,” Tubbo says. “I think you also grew a little bit, not a lot but enough. You look less tired now— and you’re more tanned because we spent a Summer on the West Coast picking berries.”

Tommy nods. Yeah— yeah… he’s different.

But… maybe it’s a good difference, maybe when (if) Wilbur or Techno or Phil look at him again they can still see the same kid that he’s always been but… just with some features twisted around a little bit. More confident— a bit taller and a bit stronger because he’s had to lug around boxes for about six months in order to make some extra crash.

He can do this. 

“Okay…” Tommy notes there’s a sense of finally in his voice. He wishes it didn’t sound like he was going to his own execution. Everyone’s told him that it will be fine and Tommy… deep down he thinks that he agrees with that but his brain doesn’t really fancy giving him any sort of mercy. “Let’s go,” he stands up and looks down at Ranboo and Tubbo. “If they don’t hate me— do you wanna join me for Christmas lunch?”

Tubbo and Ranboo glance at each other.

“Sure!” Tubbo says cheerfully. “What are you having?”

Tommy thinks back to Christmas’s he’s had before. What they had then— sometimes tacos, sometimes soup. Sometimes chicken tenders because Phil was too busy trying to set up a trampoline to worry about food.

He looks at Tubbo and Ranboo, with a small smile on his face. “Changes. Every year… maybe this is the year we finally have a traditional Christmas lunch.”

It’s not.

But Tommy doesn’t know that yet.

About all he does know is that he has his best friends by his side. They drove here from California and they’re at the final and highest hurdle.

“Sounds fun,” Tubbo says, “I will be awaiting my turkey.”

“Isn’t that thanksgiving?”

“I dunno,” Tubbo shrugs. “I never did thanksgiving—”

“Neither—”

“You never did thanksgiving?” Ranboo says, “It’s like Christmas but worse because there’s no presents. But the arguments are incredibly funny.”

Tommy and Tubbo look at each other.

Ah— they’re in agreement on insulting Ranboo together then.

“Ranboo… buddy… what. Also you didn’t say anything when it was thanksgiving— so we didn’t do anything!”

He shrugs, “I liked it… it was that night we had that awful burger.”

“The meat mountain?”

“Yup,” Ranboo grins, “And then that caught up to us about two hours and—”

Tommy shudders. “I don’t want to remember that.”

“Favourite Thanksgiving yet.”

“Shut up you sap,” Tubbo says. “We got a road to hit. I’m driving. Ranboo you’re in the back just because Tommy’s gonna hyperventilate at some point.”

“I am not.”

So they start driving again, it’s snowing here. As they move up the state, it’s snowing… Tommy saw snow a couple weeks ago when they went looking for it. But there’s something cool about it sitting in front of him for the first time in forever.

It’s— he can’t describe it. It’s his snow. This is not mountain snow it’s just… the place he grew up in. And it has the snow he likes and that makes Tommy grin so wide that it almost hurts his face. 

He’s home.

He’s finally home.

In truth— Tommy thought he would be fine seeing the house he grew up in.

But he realises quickly that he’s not. Phil’s car is in the driveway, Techno’s car is too and Tommy has a feeling that Wilbur and Techno drove up together. Or maybe Techno moved back to Michigan.

“I’m going to die,” is what Tommy says when he first sees Phil’s car.

Tubbo decides now might not be the time to pull over.

They keep driving around, and every time Tommy sees the house again a new wave of panic washes over him. His hands are shaking and he… he’s really not sure if he can do this. He’s really not sure if he can do this.

What if Phil hates him. For leaving and leaving a trashy note. For never phoning or sending a letter— Tommy only sent a postcard once, and that was because it was Phil’s birthday soon. That was the only sign of contact they’d gotten from Tommy in the six months that he was out on the road and doing other early-life-crisis things.

Techno’s gonna be furious— he was the one who was vouching for Tommy and college and helped him get into the course that was supposed to be the one he wanted to be in forever and ever and then a little bit longer—

And Wilbur… Tommy might as well start digging his grave now rather than later because Wilbur is going to murder him and not feel sorry about it at all because Tommy left and he didn’t even explain to Wilbur why he had to run. Why he had to run from the person that everyone wanted him to be and hit the road with a different grin plastered on his face.

They’re gonna actually murder him.

After about thirty minutes of driving around the neighbourhood. One of those times Ranboo gets out and gets everyone a chocolate milk.

“Pop a choccie milk and make the pain go away,” Ranboo repeats like it’s sage advice. Tommy takes the chocolate milk and sips at it because his stomach feels like it’s rolling and flipping on his head and Tommy will not be having that. Not in this economy at least.

With a quiet sigh, Tommy runs a hand down his face.

“Tommy…” Ranboo says, “We can’t just drive around here forever.”

“I mean technically—”

Tubbo looks at him. “I’m gonna park outside their house and either you get out or wait for them to get confused and then that can be your first conversation with them in years. Why your van is parked outside their house nad you’re just looking at it like you’re about to pass out— like a complete weirdo.

“I’m not a weirdo…” Tommy mutters.

Tubbo turns a corner and gives him a glance. “Well then get out of the car.”

And sure enough.

Tubbo sticks to his word. He parks on the side of the road across from the house and honestly Tommy feels like he may pass out. Or die— or pass out a little bit more because that’s his home and he’s gonna go back right now and—

“Come on,” Tubbo says. “Ran and I will be here.”

Tommy reaches over and takes the keys out of the ignition.

Tubbo looks at him. “Dude.”

“My van,” Tommy says, “Unless you wanna use your keys?”

“You mean to my car that’s in a ditch somewhere in Florida?”

“Exactly,” Tommy says.

He takes another deep breath and tries to calm down his nerves which are eating away at him in a way that makes him even more nervous about just about everything. He’ll be okay, he has to be okay.

And if he dies then he can tell Tubbo that he was right and haunt him because of it. Which will be entertaining to do.

Tommy puts the keys in his pocket.

With a deep breath he opens the door and gets out of the car. It’s only been— well it’s been a few months. Probably too many months for them not to be worried about him.

He steadies himself again, it takes only a moment. His hands are shaking and he shoves them into his hoodie pocket. Somehow— he’s forgotten about the weather here, that it snows this close to the border.

And oh boy does it snow. There’s a hastily made snowman in the driveway and Christmas lights hanging from all the trees. Tommy just… stands there for a moment, he stares at the door.

One time he ran into the door and chipped his tooth on the edge of it, Phil wasn’t a big fan of it.

He approaches the door slowly, he hesitates going up the steps and then he takes one more deep breath. Raising his fist, he gets ready to knock on the door. He can feel his heart in his throat as he does it.

They’re not gonna be happy with him.

So he knocks on the door.

There’s a moment of silence, where Tommy thinks the silence might actually end him. It might actually take away his ability to breathe and think and do anything worth doing. Then the house erupts into noise, and he hears someone run down the stairs.

Someone— it’s Wilbur.

Tommy still recognises his footsteps, the way he skips down the final step and stumbles forwards when he hits the bottom. Nothing has changed and because of that Tommy can’t help but smile.

He recognises Wilbur’s footsteps—

It’s not a big deal, really it isn’t.

But it pulls at something in his heart, making him smile widely. He knows these people— he grew up with them, he let himself be known by them. He let himself love because of them— and in return they loved him and knew him and—

The door opens.

Tommy can’t breathe.

He’s staring at Wilbur, he doesn’t look the same. His hair is curling over his forehead and he has a different haircut. His glasses are gold instead of the colour he used to have— that Tommy doesn’t even remember he does know it wasn’t this colour though.

Wilbur’s mouth falls fully open, and Tommy stares at him… for a long moment when everything feels silent around them. Like the world has stopped—

The world has stopped and it’s just Tommy and Wilbur staring at each other. Two boys with shaking hands.

“Toms?” Wilbur whispers.

And Tommy nods.

He’s ready to be yelled at, he’s ready to be insulted and turned away and he knows he deserves that and everything after and then a little more because of the stress he must have put them through that he doesn’t even feel that bad about.

But what Tommy does forget about family, real family, the type that will stay with you because they love you—

—is that they will always welcome you home.

Wilbur doesn’t hesitate, he grabs Tommy by the shoulders and pulls him in for a hug. It’s a big hug too, and Tommy can’t help but relax into it, he can’t help but smile because— he’s finally here, he’s finally with Wilbur and he’s going to see Phil and Techno and they might be mad at him later.

But right now they’re not, and that counts for something.

Tommy finds that his legs can’t hold him up anymore, and he starts crying. Tears streaming down his face as he holds on to his brother, who is mostly holding him up.

“I missed you— I missed you I’m so sorry, I’m home now— I’m home— I missed you all and I’m home and—”

“I know, I know,” Wilbur says gently. “I know, kid.”

And Tommy is home.

And maybe later they will be mad— later they will ask him about what he was doing, apologises will be shared and more tears might be shed. But Tommy is home— and— that’s all that all four of them ever wanted.

He’s home.

Finally, he’s home.