I'll be here to hold your hand

by Catori_Studios

Summary:

“And trust me on this, no one is ever going to hurt you again, not if I have a say in it,” Wilbur added, his voice darker than before and his eyes holding a little less sunshine and a little more stormy rain.

“O-okay Wilby,” Tommy murmured, shuffling closer and back into Wilbur’s chest, enjoying the warmth and hearing the beating of the man’s heart. 

OR
Tommy is captured by the Syndicate and upon waking up terrified, he age regresses. Wilbur, Techno, and Phil are there to dry his tears.

Notes:

TW: Implied/referenced child abuse
All characters in the story represent the characters from the DSMP, not the content creators themselves. If they are ever uncomfortable with a fic like this, it will be immediately taken down. Thank you <3

Chapter 1

The lights in the room are horrendously bright, even with his eyes closed the brightness still manages to seep in, causing him to groan in frustration. It’s the least of his worries though as consciousness slowly grasps him in a gentle yet cruel embrace. While this is the first time in a long while he has been able to wake up slowly, well-rested and still groggy, his body aches something fierce. 

 

It hurts to breathe with every struggling gasp he takes to fill his lungs. Every shift of his limbs gives a piercing throb. Least of all his head pounds violently, like his skull was smashed up against a brick wall several times. Perhaps the pain would be the equivalent of how it felt too. 

 

As his blue eyes slowly fluttered open, Tommy reached his hand up, trying to wipe away the sleep still coating them. He winced as he did so to his left eye, drawing his hand away and sitting up on the cozy bed (it was softer than his own which was strange). Tugging up the comforter, he glanced around warily as he tried to figure out what was happening and what to do next. He knew he had training with Dream later, and then work at the local cafe. 

 

Yet as his eyes scanned over the large window with drawback curtains and the cream-colored walls of the room, he paused. The comforter wasn’t its normal bright, chaotic shade of red, nor was it scratchy and harsh against the skin (though it did keep him warm every night so that was at least a plus) instead it was an impersonal white. No posters of the heroes, particularly Dream, coated the bedroom walls, instead, they were carefully blank. 

 

It wasn’t hard to figure out that he was alone and not in his bedroom. Not in his apartment. 

 

A mad scramble of what had occurred the night before raced through his mind. He had- he had pissed off Dream, that was for one. Something about not training hard enough, fucking hell he was a screw-up. Dream had… punished him, as he should, to make Tommy better. Afterward, Tommy ran into the Syndicate on his way home and- oh.

 

The Syndicate had him. 

 

The Angel of Death, the Blood God, and Siren had him.

 

Suddenly his logic seemed to melt away as he noticed how his ankle was cuffed to the bed frame, how he was still in costume but his mask was taken off. How some of his wounds were carefully dressed, hinting to someone having cared for him. The power suppressor bracelet became increasingly apparent on his wrist. The lack of stuffed animals on the bed somehow crossed his mind, making the boy whimper. The hero costume was stiff and itchy and so uncomfortable, he wanted it off. His body ached and ached and it hurt so bad- why did it hurt so much? He wanted Henry and Clementine and- 

 

Oh

 

He was crying.

 

Tommy couldn’t keep in the sobs that began to slowly take hold of his body and cause him to shake. It caused his chest to hurt more and more with each one but he couldn’t stop. He was scared and this place was scary and big and he just wanted Tub-

 

The door clicked with the sound of it unlocking, followed by a creak causing Tommy’s eyes to shoot up, big and tear-filled blue meeting warm, sunshine-filled brown. 

 

Silence pervaded the air- and oh, Tommy knew he should stop his sobbing, try to correct himself, be the big man he is. 

 

But he just felt so small, and the world was so huge and terrifying.

 

And he simply couldn’t.

 

Instead, his wails grew louder and he hiccuped pitifully, snot running down his face in a disgusting display of his current lack of pride. He got captured by the enemy and Dream was going to be so mad. He was going to hurt him and so were the bad men and- and-

 

“Shh, it’s okay, it’s okay.” The villain he knew to be Siren came closer, rubbing his back gently as he sat at the edge of the bed. His eyes danced with uncertainty, movements hesitant, though Tommy couldn’t read the emotions held by the other so easily, not with his mask on.

 

Instead, the boy just melted into the soft touch, an instant wash of calm crashing over him. He glanced at the curly-haired brunette, lip wobbling as he stared up with those huge innocent blue eyes which still dripped with tears. “Y-you n-not go-gon’ hu-hurt me?” He asked, voice ever so childish and small and frail. Dream would’ve slapped him the moment he slipped and showed this kind of weakness.

 

Siren seemed to pause at those words, at the tone, and slowly he shook his head. His hand lifted off of Tommy’s back and to his mask, gently taking it off and placing it on the bedside table. The boy stared, sniffling with his own fingers reaching up to caress the features of Siren’s face in a childish act. 

 

A moment of quiet passed as Tommy’s hand slowly trailed across the man’s face before he finally remarked, “You gots a bi’ nose.”

 

Siren’s gaze flashed with sudden surprise before it melted into amusement, a broad grin spreading across his lips. “You’re a little gremlin, aren’t you?” he chuckled.

 

Tommy followed suit, giggling after him. He didn’t really know what a gremlin was, but it sounded funny and something about the man’s laughter was contagious. “No,” he disagreed simply, tears slowly drying up. “Not gremlin.”

 

Siren sighed, grin toning down into a small smile. “Maybe, maybe not,” he murmured, running a hand through Tommy’s blonde locks. It made him feel all warm and cozy inside. Tubbo would typically just play and cuddle with him when he was little, and that was if the other teenager was even around. He never ran his fingers through his hair like Siren just had. 

 

“Hey, bubs,” Tommy perked up at the nickname, staring wide-eyed at the villain, “How old are you?”

 

Tommy blinked, and he knew he shouldn’t say because it was a secret and the public would widely disagree on him being a hero due to his age but- “Is sixteen!”

 

Siren hummed, playing more with his golden curls, and Tommy inwardly knew that he would be purring like a cat right now if he could. “How old are you feeling right now, bubs?” he asked again.

 

The little turned his eyes away from the villain, eyebrows furrowing as the question felt more… embarrassing to answer. Not many people understood him when he was like this and maybe if Siren hadn’t asked, he could have pretended that he wasn’t little. 

 

“I-I t’ink four,” he slowly answered, blue eyes slowly drawing back to Siren.

 

“Ohh, I see,” Siren hummed, tugging him closer. “I bet it’s scary waking up not in your own bed, huh?”

 

Tommy nodded his head, adding, “An’ evewyt’ing hurts.”

 

Siren sighed, running a hand through his own brown locks. Tommy felt his mind grow fuzzier, heavier as he relinquished more control to just being little. He didn’t want to fight the heavy feeling on his tongue which slurred his words or the desire to fall into childish acts. He simply just wanted to be.

 

“Can I have your name bubs, your real name?” Siren asked softly. “You can call me Wilbur, none of that Siren stuff, okay? Just Wilbur for you.”

 

“Tommy, is Tommy,” he informed Siren- Wilbur. He felt a small rush of comforting warmth nestle in his stomach and he beamed up at his new companion. “Tommy an’ Wilby!”

 

An audible coo sounded from the villain, causing his grin to grow wider. “Yes baby, Tommy and Wilby,” he repeated, ruffling the boy’s golden curls. “But guess what, bubs! I have some family and I just know they’d love to be your friends, so it doesn’t just have to be Tommy and Wilby.”

 

Tommy’s eyes seemed to twinkle with stars, grinning from ear to ear. “New fwiends?” he asked, receiving a confirming nod. “Yes! Yes! Want to meet!”

 

Wilbur laughed and nodded his head. “Okay, bubs, give me just a moment.”

 

Soon enough the chain around his ankle was unlocked and the boy was picked up by Wilbur who carried him on his hip. Tommy giggled as he was lifted from the bed, snuggling into the man’s side. 

 

The two began to head out the door, each shifting movement causing the boy to become all too aware of the scratchiness of his suit against his skin, causing a frown to appear across his features. 

 

“Wilby…?” 

 

“What is it bubs?”

 

Tommy stared at the villain with wide eyes, the brunette pausing to glance back curiously as he took a little bit too long to respond. In a sudden burst of shyness, the boy glanced away. “Clothes itchy,” he whispered, voice barely audible. He almost felt bad for bothering Wilbur, he didn’t want to be a nuisance after all. Already a lot of people thought of him as annoying and a bit too loud.

 

“Ooh, okay, well that’s no problem bubs! Let's go get you changed into something comfy, little boys like you shouldn’t be in a hero get up anyways,” Wilbur said, grinning at him though his voice was laced in undetected venom as he neared the end of his statement. Tommy remained ever oblivious and only beamed up at his current caregiver, nodding his head excitedly.

 

“I gots weallyyyy comfy clothes at home!!” He told him. “Gots cows on them too.”

 

Wilbur gasped, eyes twinkling in delight and grasping onto his every word like everything that left his mouth was the most important thing ever said, it made butterflies flutter in his stomach. “Wow! Do you like cows, sunshine?” 

 

Tommy felt warmth rise to his cheeks as a new nickname came to light, though he didn’t remark on it, and if Wilbur noticed he didn’t either. “They my favorite,” he explained.

 

Wilbur nodded with a pleasant hum, treading down the hall. A comfortable silence fell upon the two and eventually they reached the room the elder was looking for. As he opened the room Wilbur gently placed him down on a bed.

 

“Welcome to my room, sunshine,” Wilbur exclaimed, gesturing around. 

 

There wasn’t anything above average about it except for the guitar placed in the corner of the room, which Tommy would have loved to pluck at the strings of. However, Wilbur quickly caught his attention as he brought over an oversized light blue sweatshirt and black sweatpants. “These may be a tad big on you bubs, but they’re the best I have to offer.”

 

Tommy giggled and nodded his head, already wiggling off the bed and standing to his feet clumsily. Wilbur watched in amusement before turning around. “I’ll be right outside the door okay, sunshine? Let me know if you need help with anything.”

 

And then Wilbur was gone with a click of the door and Tommy was left alone. The room felt colder and more stuffy, his nose scrunching up in distaste. Every move was achingly slow as his limbs felt heavy, and not only that, they were coated in ugly dark purple bruises. He slipped out of his hero regalia, but as he did so he only found more and more scratches and bumps and the like painting his skin. They were ugly and they hurt and oh-

 

Wilbur had caused some of them just the night before. But- but Wilbur said he wouldn’t hurt him now and if he was a good boy then everything would be okay, right?

Tommy felt cold standing there, those thoughts creeping up on him and being alone in a room he didn’t truly know he felt terrified. While dear Wilby was being so nice and ruffled his hair and was just so snuggly, these past few weeks, months, he had caused so many injuries. He had caused so many nightmares for Tommy to wake up to, either sitting in cold sweat and forcing himself to go back to sleep or waking up a sobbing mess where he had slipped into little space. 

 

As the boy shuffled into the clothes given to him which were just so soft and comfortable, he wondered if he wanted to go back out there. He had nowhere else to go except sit in here… and he doubted Wilbur would wait out there forever. His bottom lip trembled and his hands shook as he hesitantly wobbled over to the door, creaking it open to spy Wilbur leaning against the wall, eyes honed in on his phone.

 

He opened his mouth to speak, to call for the older’s attention though his voice got caught in his throat and he nearly wanted to burst into a crying mess. He wanted this man’s cuddles and hair ruffles and nicknames so bad, but he was also so scared. 

 

Tears began to flow freely down his cheeks and a whimper that escaped his throat was what alarmed Wilbur of his presence. His brown eyes darted up to meet Tommy’s own, surprised before they melted into gentle concern. “Oh baby, what's wrong?” the villain asked softly, stepping closer and caressing his cheek so, so nicely .

 

Leaning into the touch, he shivered softly, words thick and heavy on his tongue. “S-scary,” he explained as best as he possibly could, gesturing to the man in front of him hesitantly and with a shaky finger.

 

Wilbur frowned, pulling him close. “Oh bubs, no, no… I’m sorry sunshine,” he whispered into his golden locks as Tommy tucked his head away to the crevice of his neck. “I’ve been very mean, huh?”

 

Tommy nodded his head, sniffling as snot ran down from his nose. Slowly, Wilbur gripped his shoulders and shuffled the two of them so that they could both look eye to eye.

 

“Well, look baby, I’m not ever, ever going to hurt you again, okay? You’re too sweet and precious and far too young for all of this, little or not.” 

 

Tommy nodded his head again, rubbing his nose with the sleeve of the sweatshirt. If Wilbur didn’t appreciate the action towards his clothes, then he didn’t show it.

 

(Wilbur hadn’t minded, they were just clothes, the sweatshirt could be washed.)

 

“And trust me on this, no one is ever going to hurt you again, not if I have a say in it,” Wilbur added, his voice darker than before and his eyes holding a little less sunshine and a little more stormy rain.

 

“O-okay Wilby,” Tommy murmured, shuffling closer and back into Wilbur’s chest, enjoying the warmth and hearing the beating of the man’s heart. 

 

The two stood there for a moment, Tommy nestled close into a firm hug as Wilbur rested his chin atop the boy’s head. A soft melodic hum rumbled in the older’s throat, soothing in all ways and causing Tommy’s worries to dissipate. 

 

It'd be okay. Everything would be okay.

Chapter 2

Summary:

He could feel all their eyes on him, sharp and predatory. Phil kneeled down to the floor, a wide grin curled upon his lips. "I'm sorry, dove. I didn't hear you, do you mind repeating that?"

Tommy tried to keep his gaze pinned to the floor, ears growing red with embarrassment. However, the villain gripped his chin once more, forcing him to make eye contact with him.

"We cuddle?" Tommy choked out, knuckles growing white as gripped his sweater paws harder.

Phil's smile only managed to grow wider, leaning in and ruffling his hair before landing a soft kiss to his forehead. "Anything you want, baby," he said.

-----
Or;
4/4 SBI with lots of fluff and a lil bit of possessiveness.

Notes:

TW:
Referenced child abuse, possessiveness, mild cursing, & panic attacks.

The two walked down the stairs, Tommy pulled firmly into the other's embrace. The smell of bacon hit the boy's nose almost immediately as he reached the last step, perking up and looking over at the older man beside him. "Breakfast?" He whispered. 

 

Wilbur cooed, ruffling his hair and grinning slightly. "Breakfast." He confirmed. 

 

Tucked into the man's side, they both walked into a wide open kitchen with marble countertops and black cabinets. Personal touches like pictures on the stainless steel fridge or a little flower vase on the counter popped out here and there, but what was most apparent were the two men already occupying the space. 

 

Tommy could recognize that soft, bubblegum pink hair from anywhere, tied back into a neat little braid cascading down the Blood God's back. His red eyes examined him thoroughly, up and down with a small, tight frown curling on his lips. His tusks glistened in the light, sharp and scary. 

 

That only left the blonde man wearing a forest green robe to be the Angel of Death. His hair was tied back into a ponytail, deep ocean blue eyes appearing wide with surprise. He had a spatula in his hand, and Tommy could see the bacon and eggs cooking behind him, as well as what appeared to be a freshly made stack of pancakes. 

 

"Wilby?" He whispered, gripping tighter to the brunette's clothing. The other sighed softly, rubbing his arm before glancing at the other two. 

 

"Nothing to be scared about bubs, let's just get you some food," Wilbur told him. "Can't let the little baby go hungry, hm?" He pushed past the Angel of Death with little care, tugging Tommy right along with him. A little giggle passed by his lips at that. Tommy didn't think he'd admit it, but being fawned over like this was kind of nice. 

 

While the other two men in the room watched with narrowed optics, Wilbur piled freshly cooked bacon, eggs, and a nice stack of pancakes on a plate. He then sat Tommy down at the table, far away from the Blood God and the Angel of Death who remained at the island counter. From there, Tommy watched with wide eyes (and he's sure the Blood God and Angel of Death did too) as Wilbur spread butter on his pancakes and cut them up for him. Upon asking if he desired syrup (he did), he set a tall bottle of it next to his plate with a gentle reminder to be careful lest he gets it all over the place. 

 

Tommy's feet swung under the table with a sense of giddy excitement. The food looked good, and it was probably the most he'd had in a while too!! He couldn't help but grin up at Wilbur, blue eyes sparkling with delight. 

 

"Thank you, Wilby!" 

 

"Aww, of course bubs, anything for you," the brunette cooed, gently ruffling his hair before turning to the other two occupants in the room.

 

"Why is he calling you Wilby?"

"Can we have a word, please?"

 

Two voices, the first gruff and husky and the other at a higher pitch with a slight accent, intermingled together. A loud sigh followed, Wilbur rubbing Tommy's back as though it was soothing his own nerves. 

 

"How about we talk in the living room?" Wilbur asked, honey-colored eyes flickering to the blonde boy with fluttering worry. "Toms, would you be okay with me leaving you here for a sec?"

 

"You come back?"

 

"Of course I will, and if you need anything I'll be right in the other room. Just call for me, okay?" Wilbur said, tucking a strand of golden hair behind Tommy's ear. "I'll be right back."

 

With that, the brunette left, dragging the other two along and leaving Tommy all alone. 

 

The little hummed softly, picking up the bottle of syrup. It took a minute of trying to pop open the cap, but as it came open he tipped it down and poured it all over his pancakes. They were practically drowning in the sugary goodness. Maybe it was a little too much… maybe. 

 

Putting down the bottle, sticky residue remained stuck to his fingers. Nevertheless, he gripped his fork and stabbed it into the fluffy pancakes, eager for a taste. 

 

And oh my prime they were good. Like everyone loving Spongebob's krabby patties good. Except they were sweet, of course. Tommy couldn't help the little squeal of delight passing his lips as he eagerly took bite after bite, not even attempting to try the bacon and eggs yet. Perhaps he was being a little too voracious though, as his elbow knocked into the open bottle of syrup and crashed down to the floor. 

 

The blonde paused, watching the liquidy brown goo pour out into the floor slowly but surely. Tears pooled into his crystal blue eyes, panic flooding into the little's chest. Scrambling, he picked up the bottle of syrup but the damage had already been done with it having spilt all over the floor. 

 

With wide eyes he glanced around frantically for a roll of paper towels or something, but he couldn't see jack. A hiccuping sob reached in the back of the boy's throat which came out as a stuttering breath as he stifled his cries. His chest ached just a little more, stabbing with each harsh intake of air. But he couldn't cry. They'd get mad and then they'd know he did very bad and- and-!

 

Wilby said to call him if something was wrong, but Tommy was the one being wrong. The boy sniffled, rubbing at his nose. He glanced at the archway which they had all exited through. With tears running down his cheeks he grabbed the bottle of syrup and stumbled through the doorway. It led down a hall, and while he softly and quietly cried all the way, he eventually found another archway that led to the living room. 

 

"-ucking prime, they let in a kid to fight crime, and now you're telling me he's an age regressor too?" The blonde man was speaking, his face buried in his hands as he sat down on a soft looking gray couch. Tommy sniffled but otherwise stayed quiet, simply peeking in. They were talking about him. "Prime only knows what the hell he's thinking right now. The kid is probably scared as hell."

 

"Phil- Phil. Look, we'll get it all sorted out. I mean, have you seen his black eye? He did not have that the day before and I sure as hell didn't give it to him," Wilbur huffed, folding his arms. "I bet its that fucking mentor of his. Number one hero my ass, Dream's allowing child labor- let alone letting them fight against people who will absolutely kill them- kidnap them if given the chance."

 

"Probably the one abusing him too," it came out as a low mutter but Tommy still heard it. How could Wilby say all that? Dream was good! He was super good!! He- he only punished him when it was for the best. It was training. It was how he'd get better. Wilby and- and Phil?- and the Blood God were the bad guys! Not Dream. 

 

Tommy didn't notice the footsteps coming closer or the red eyes that had landed on him until it was too late. He felt a hand rest on his shoulder, a figure suddenly towering over him. 

 

"Looks like we have a little spy." 

 

A whimper tumbled past his throat and he clutched the syrup bottle tightly to his chest, getting the blue sweatshirt all sticky but he didn't quite care. The piglin hybrid reached down, grabbing one of his arms and guiding him into the room, notably much more gently than Tommy would have thought. 

 

Catching sight of Wilbur who had visibly softened and Phil (he thinks, he heard Wilby call him such but perhaps not, he just didn't enjoy the name "Angel of Death") whose surprise had melted into concern. 

 

"Techno, you're scary him-"

 

"I-i'm not a spy, I'm a ninja." Tommy warbled, cutting Phil off and staring at the pinkette. He had tears still swimming in his eyes, having been caught snooping and then he'd have to explain the syrup too! 

 

The pinkette inhaled deeply, looking rather appalled at Tommy's words while a handful of giggles were heard a few feet away from Wilbur. 

 

"Still a little gremlin child," The musician whispered to Phil, snickering all the while. 

 

With a final sigh, the Blood God awkwardly patted his head. Round blue eyes met an uncertain crimson. Hands fluttered around Tommy's figure as the man tried to figure out how to speak to him. "Alright… and what does the little ninja want, hm?" He finally breathed out while his hands finally landed on the boy's shoulders. 

 

Glancing between all three men in the room, he bit his bottom lip anxiously before holding out the syrup bottle. "Made a mess," he explained. 

 

A second passed, then another as the pink-haired villain released Tommy from his grasp. "Okay then," he murmured, his eyes flickering to Wilbur, sending him a pointed look. 

 

"I didn't know how much syrup he'd want!" Wilbur muttered defensively.

 

Tommy shrunk into himself as the two bickered, not noticing Phil's fond glance in his direction nor when he started to tread over to him. He felt a hand land on his shoulder, soothing circles being rubbed into his skin. Tommy couldn't help but flinch before leaning into the touch, warmth fluttering in his stomach.

 

"How about we go get that mess cleaned up, mate? Then we can sit you down to finish eating. Don't want that food to get cold, hm?" Phil murmured in his ear, breath warm against his skin as he began to lead him into the hall and towards the kitchen. 

 

The mess wasn't particularly big in hindsight, just sticky- and with no paper towels to be found it seemed like a rather big deal. The paper towels were actually just tucked into a corner next to the fridge and a basket of different breads, but Tommy didn't see the need to point out his situational blindness to them.

 

Instead, Phil gently cleaned up the mess with a few paper towels, water, and clorox wipes and let Tommy go back to eating in peace. Of course, that wasn't without sending a small, concerned look to the pancakes drowned in syrupy goodness. 

 

As the last of the wipes were tossed away, the winged hybrid walked over and tousled with Tommy's golden locks. "Do you like the food, mate?" He asked.

 

"Mmhm! It's good," Tommy explained like the master food critic he was. His stomach might have cramped a little and his chest ached a bit more than it already was, but that was fine. Tommy was a big boy, he could handle it! He always did. 

 

It didn't take too long for him to get full, the Blood God, Phil, and Wilbur all quietly murmuring together in the corner of the kitchen as they watched over him. A piece of bacon, bits of pancake, and a little morsel of egg was left over. He wanted to eat more but his tummy was so full. 

 

Pouting slightly, he nudged the food with the fork, wondering if he could still manage to eat it regardless. Who knew when he'd get something so good again. 

 

"You done sunshine?" Wilbur's voice reached his ears, making him perk up and look at the man. He was walking over with steady, smooth strides, a warm smile on his face. 

 

"I guess," Tommy mumbled in reply, letting the fork drop onto the plate and leaning back into his seat. He was full, he just wanted a little bit more. 

 

Wilbur took the plate and cutlery, went over to the sink, and began to wash them. This left Phil and the Blood God's attention on him, which he felt a bit scrutinized under their stare. Hunching in on himself, he began to play with the sleeves of the navy sweatshirt Wilby had given him.

 

They were so big, reaching at least an inch or two past his fingertips and successfully creating neat little sweater paws. Giggling softly to himself, he swung the excess bit of fabric to and fro, almost forgetting the eyes on him. 

 

It wasn't until he heard the soft cooing noise and footsteps coming towards him that he glanced back up. Phil had come closer, pupils dilated slightly and talons reaching towards his hair. Tommy flinched, expecting those sharp nails of his to dig into his scalp, but instead they only gently carded through his golden locks. 

 

The boy felt his heart skip a beat. A flutter in his chest. 

 

They were so nice. Nicer than Dream had ever been. He couldn't help leaning into the touch, sweater paws long forgotten. 

 

"Aww, you really are just a little thing, aren't you, mate?" Phil mused. "I suppose you always did seem to enjoy my compliments, hm? I bet no one at the Hero Agency would praise you for your hard work."

 

Tommy said nothing, just a pile of goo as Phil managed to scratch at just the right spot. He could hear quiet giggles off to the side, as well as a snort in the Blood God's direction, but he didn't really mind. It was just so nice. Being fawned over, getting head scratches. Oftentimes he'd just be alone to play with Henry and Clementine- and if Tubbo was there when he was little he was so tired that Tommy just didn't feel right pushing him to play. 

 

Here he was getting all sorts of affection and he was loving it. 

 

"I assume we're keeping him then?" Wilbur asked. 

 

"Of course." Phil smiled. Tommy didn't notice how it was just a little too wide and his teeth were just a little too sharp. "The Hero Agency couldn't treat him right, and now we will." 

 

The blonde's hand left Tommy's hair, resulting in a whine coming from the boy's throat, high and desperate for the affection to continue. Instead, Phil's hand came to his chin, tilting his head up just slightly to have him look him in the eyes. 

 

"You're just so cute," Phil cooed. "How about we go watch a movie, hm? You can pick any movie you'd like, dove." 

 

Tommy perked up at the nickname, cheeks flushing with a dust of pink. "We watch Up?" He murmured, looking down at his fingers which curled over the soft fabric. He hadn't watched it in such a long time. The DVD player had broken a while back and they simply didn't have money for streaming services. 

 

"Of course baby," Phil purred. 

 

"And we cuddle?" He whispered out, voice so meek and quiet that it could barely be heard. 

 

He could feel all their eyes on him, sharp and predatory. Phil kneeled down to the floor, a wide grin curled upon his lips. "I'm sorry, dove. I didn't hear you, do you mind repeating that?"

 

Tommy tried to keep his gaze pinned to the floor, ears growing red with embarrassment. However, the villain gripped his chin once more, forcing him to make eye contact with him. 

 

"We cuddle?" Tommy choked out, knuckles growing white as gripped his sweater paws harder. 

 

Phil's smile only managed to grow wider, leaning in and ruffling his hair before landing a soft kiss on his forehead. "Anything you want, baby," he said. 

 

Being released from Phil's grasp, he stood up on wobbly feet, hands held close to his chest. "We gonna watch Up now?" 

 

"Mhm! I'll go get it set up for you now, Sunshine," Wilbur chirped from the background, footsteps leading away from the kitchen. 

 

"I'm gonna go get some blankets and pillows, okay?" Phil said, ruffling Tommy's golden curls. "I'll be right back." 

 

With Phil heading towards the staircase, Tommy was left with the Blood God who he still had yet to piece together his name. With a sigh, the pinkette walked over, a fond look in his red eyes. 

 

Patting the boy's head, he hummed, "Let's get your hands cleaned up, I'm sure they're sticky from the syrup." 

 

With little protest, the man took his hands in his own, guiding them over to the sink and rinsing them with water before scrubbing his fingers down with soap. Tommy couldn't help the shallow whine rising in his throat from the cold water, but with it, a low chuff-chuff-chuff sounded by his ear. It almost made him jolt, but with Techno's chest keeping him pinned near the sink he didn't have many places to go.

 

The little had heard it before, during a fight- multiple fights. He had always found it odd but soothing. 

 

Tommy's back was pressed up against the wall, face twisted into a scowl and ribs thoroughly bruised. The Blood God never hurt him more than a few bruises and maybe some cuts. It always enraged him. The Syndicate enraged him. 

 

His lips parted about to egg the man on. Make him keep fighting him. Raising his fist he-

 

Chuff-chuff-chuff

 

Tommy froze. The fuck was that? He could have sworn that it came from the villain but-?

 

"You're done, Theseus." The Blood God held his sword to the boy's neck. "You're cornered. Give up."

 

"Fuck you," Tommy spat. 

 

The boy winced, shrinking slightly into himself. A soft towel was rubbing against his chilly hands, drying them off. The memory wasn't necessarily pleasant, it made him feel wrong. Should he really be with these guys? Letting them take care of him?

 

They were so nice though. And- and Wilby promised he wouldn't let anyone hurt him! Including himself so- so that had to mean something, right? Biting his lower lip, he didn't realize until the Blood God's eyes were leveled with his own that he had been turned around. 

 

"Oh," he squeaked out. 

 

"What are you thinking about, runt?" The man's hand moved to cup his cheek, a gesture Tommy couldn't help but lean into despite how scary he really was. 

 

"Nothin," he murmured, closing his eyes for a minute and releasing a soft sigh while he nuzzled into the man's calloused hands.

 

"Hmm, you sure little one?" 

 

"Uhm…" he trailed off for a minute, blue eyes opening and dancing down to his now clean hands. "Just kinda scary."

 

Chuff-chuff-chuff

 

"What's that do?" He asked, cutting off anything else the villain might be about to say. 

 

"It's meant to comfort and reassure my little runt." The Blood God explained. "Mmm… I suppose you don't know my name yet, that'd make it less scary for you, wouldn't it?" 

 

Tommy couldn't help the warm, fuzzy feeling bubbling in his chest at the man's attempt to comfort him. Not many did that for him, only Tubbo. Nodding his head to his question, he leaned forward slightly, eager to know. 

 

"It's Technoblade, but Techno is fine, okay?" He explained, the smallest of smiles forming on his lips. "And the Angel is Phil, okay?"

 

Tommy grinned broadly. "I already know that!! Wilby said it… I think he said your name too, but… it sounded silly." The boy couldn't help the strand of giggles passing by his lips. He attempted to hide it by covering it with his hand, but failed miserably. 

 

Techno rolled his eyes, a soft snort sounding from him. "I don't know, Tommy sounds pretty strange to me," he teased gently, pinching his cheek before pulling away. 

 

"No! Tommy is the best name," he pouted in reply. A small gasp passed his lips as hands snaked under his armpits, lifting him up and balancing him on the man's hip. 

 

"Mmm, Techno sounds better," the villain grunted in reply. 

 

Tommy whined in reply, shaking his head violently from side to side. "No way! It's stupid." 

 

Treading towards the living room, Techno raised an eyebrow at his words. "No, no, no," he scolded softly. "That's not a very nice thing to say, is it? We don't call things stupid, okay?" 

 

Tommy flinched at the sudden tone change, eyebrows furrowing and lips curling down into a firm frown. Something tight curled in his stomach, a fear of being bad rising up. He- he wanted to be a good boy! He did!! 

 

Tears formed in the corners of his eyes. "I-i'm sorry," he sniffled. "I be good, I-i promise." His fingers curled tight onto the white button up that Techno wore, bottom lip quivering as he tried to suck in his tears. Dream never liked it when he cried. Never liked it when he regressed. Tommy was already pushing his buttons with this. With interacting with these villains in such an intimate way. If they didn't punish him, surely Dream would.

 

He shuddered at the thought, knuckles growing white. His body already ached and it hurt to breathe. Even blinking with his left eye hurt. Why did everything hurt so bad?

 

A quiet sob left his lips, blue eyes squeezing shut as he tried to suck in desperate breaths of air. "I-i'm sorry Techie," he wailed. "I'll be good- I'll be good I-i pwomise. P-please don-don't make hur-hurts-"

 

Chuff-chuff-chuff

 

Tommy didn't realize when he was placed down. Nor when one person became three. His baby blues only peeked open a crack at the warm, reassuring sound, heart still racing and breaths running ragged. 

 

"I-i sorry I swear. I'll be good, I-i be good," he whimpered, fingers curled so tightly in the blue sweater paws he had. 

 

When did he sink down to the floor?

 

He saw a hand coming towards his face, resulting in the boy flinching but only warm hands carded through his golden locks instead of the harsh punch or slap he was expecting. 

 

Chuff-chuff-chuff

 

Slowly, another hand reached forward and tugged him closer. 

 

"Breathe, runt, breathe." 

 

Tommy listened to the exaggerated breaths sounding from the husky voice. He tried to follow it- he did but-

 

"I-i c-can't," he hiccuped, rubbing frantically at his teary eyes. "I-i sorry, I'm sor-sorry." 

 

Rocking back and forth, he shook his head, whimpering all the while as apology after apology tumbled past his lips. 

 

"Hey, hey, little one." Fingers rubbed away at his stream of tears. "I bet you're really good at counting backwards, want to help me?" 

 

Tommy glanced up, blurry blue eyes meeting a gentle, concerned red. Whining in reply, he shook his head before another stream of apologies blurted out right after. 

 

"Ten… nine… hey count with me okay? Eight…"

 

Techno's deep, husky voice rang in his ears. 

 

"S-seven," he whimpered, fingers uncurling around the sleeves of his sweater and reaching out for Techno's shirt. 

 

"Good, good… six."

 

The two continued, attention trained on each other and only each other for several minutes as they counted backwards from ten multiple times. 

 

Each moment that passed Tommy felt the tightness in his chest melt away just the tiniest bit, able to breathe just a little bit easier than before. Slowly he stopped rocking back and forth, beginning to lean forward into Technoblade's touch before he was practically enveloped in a hug. 

 

"Good, you did so good, little one," Techno rumbled, breath fanning across his ear. Gentle hands rubbed soothing circles on his back. 

 

"No hurts?" Tommy whispered in reply, hiding his face in the crook of the man's neck. 

 

A low growl sounded from Techno's throat, causing Tommy to flinch, but the man's hold on him only tightened. "Never, no one is ever going to hurt you again," he murmured firmly. 

 

A sigh of relief passed through the boy's lips, tension easing from his shoulders as he finally slumped against the older man. Slowly, he felt himself be lifted up and eventually be placed on a comfortable couch, the cushions so soft to the touch. 

 

As Techno pulled away, he saw Up was on pause on a large TV screen. He also finally noticed Wilbur and Phil, a dark look in their eyes though it was layered over with concern. 

 

The brunette immediately raced over, giving him a tight, firm hug. "Oh bubs, that was scary wasn't it?" He crooned, hands fluttering all around the boy's figure from his hair to his waist. "Trust me, even if you're in trouble we're never going to hurt you okay?"

 

"And those who have will get what they deserve." Phil came up behind Wilbur, arms crossed and though there was that ever present smile on his face, it was rather tense. 

 

"O-okay," he hiccuped, a few stray tears still slipping from his eyes. Wilbur gently wiped them away before grabbing a nearby blanket that Phil must have brought down. It was a fluffy light blue with little orcas dotted across its surface. As Wilbur wrapped him up in it like a moth in a cocoon, he felt a lot warmer than he had in a long time. 

 

He didn't think it was just because of the blanket either. 

 

The brunette sat onto the couch beside him, pulling him into his lap and burying his face in the crook of the boy's neck. 

 

"Wilbur," Phil laughed. "Don't hog him." 

 

Something not even Tommy could make out was grumbled out from the man, his breath fanning out across his neck and causing him to squirm from the ticklish sensation. "Wilby nooo!" He squealed, ripping an arm out from the cocoon and pushing his face away. 

 

A broad grin curled upon Wilbur's lips, eyebrows raising as he grabbed Tommy's free hand. "What, does it tickle, baby?" He crooned. 

 

Tommy stared for a moment, breath caught in his throat before he quickly shook his head no. 

 

Wilbur chuckled dangerously, leaning in closer. "I think it does," he sang. His other hand eagerly began to tickle the little's side while he began to pepper Tommy's face and neck with small, brief kisses. 

 

Even as Tommy attempted to wiggle his other arm free, it was quickly snagged into the same grip as his other one. 

 

"S-stop! Stop-stop it W-wilby!" He squealed out between the laughter tumbling past his lips. "N-no more!! No ti-tickles!!" At this point the little boy was yelling, giggles hardly ceasing as he struggled to catch a good breath of air. His chest hurt, but the ticklish sensation kept his giggles going.

 

"Wilbur, you might want to stop, his ribs," Techno spoke up, sitting down beside the two on the couch. 

 

What was wrong with his ribs?

 

Wilbur abruptly stopped, caramel-colored eyes wide with realization. "Shit- sorry, sunshine. You okay? Does your chest hurt?" He pressed, hand immediately releasing Tommy's own. 

 

With the fun over, Tommy took in deep, stuttering breaths. It hurt bad, but it was fine. He was fine. He was used to this! Like that one time Dream had broken a few fingers, he still managed to play with his toys. It was okay! 

 

"Gots ouchies, but I okay," he murmured, tilting his head to the side. They were so worried over him, it made him feel all gooey inside. Shrugging his shoulders, he slumped his head against Techno's chest, tucking his hands back in his cozy blanket cocoon while curling into Wilbur's lap. 

 

Both Wilbur and Techno frowned but allowed him to do as he pleased regardless. It took Tommy a moment, but as he glanced around the room he noticed a certain blonde with big black wings missing. "Where Phil?" He chirped out, perking his head up. 

 

On cue, Phil came into the room with a bowl of popcorn, a wide smile on his face as he noticed all three of his boys sitting on the couch. "Right here, dove," he cooed, coming over to ruffle his blonde locks before sitting beside Wilbur. 

 

"Ready to watch Up, baby?" Phil asked, grinning in his direction. 

 

With stars sparkling in his crystal blue eyes, Tommy beamed, nodding his head excitedly. "Up! Up!!" He squealed, clapping his hands together underneath his blanket. 

 

Chuckling all the while, Phil grasped the remote on the end table and unpaused the movie before placing it back down. Leaning into the cuddle pile, he wrapped his arm around Wilbur and Techno's backs. 

 

Happily, Tommy watched the movie without much fuss, sinking deeper and deeper into the affection that would be provided throughout. Like the small kisses placed upon his golden curls, or the thumb that rubbed gentle circles into his shoulder. Even the rumbling purr that sounded beside him from Techno. 

 

It all made him feel so- so warm and safe. It wasn't something the little had in a long, long time. He soaked it up like rays of the sun. 

 

The rest of the day would float by with ease, and eventually, nighttime would fall and the little boy would be put in a nest, cozied up between the ones who had claimed him as family. 

 

(Later he would find an issue in this, but for now, he was perfectly fine with being their little dove, bright ray of sunshine, and the adoring runt that they claimed him to be.)

Notes:

That is a wrap for this oneshot. I have a bunch of different ideas for this AU though, and I plan for there to be at least a few more stories in this little series for you all to read!

For now though, I plan to focus on the second oneshot for Precious as Gold. Knowing me though, I'll probably end up fixating on the second installment for this series.

Thank you so much for reading! If you'd like to support me, leaving a comment, giving kudos, or bookmarking is always appreciated.

See you guys soon <3

Notes:

Hello, hello! Long time no see... literally. Things have been a little rough on my end, and with me already being a slow writer and fixating on 50 million other ideas at the same time- I've been out of the loop for a while.

This little fic (haha puns) has been in my drafts for quite a while and I've been fixated on it for the past few days. I decided to split it into two parts, with the next one hopefully coming out sometime next week as most of it is already almost done.

Part two to Precious as Gold is in the works, I can't say when it's coming, but I'm working on that and one other fic at the moment.

I hope you enjoyed! If you would like to support me, kudos, bookmarks, and comments all go a long way. Thank you! <3

Series this work belongs to:

• Part 1 of When the World Feels too Big