Work Text:
The sky is blue today, so Tommy decides to walk.
It’s a refreshing change from the past week of incessant rainstorms, and as a person who favors summer, he much prefers the seasons changing.
Normally he’ll bug his dad, Phil, or his brother, Wilbur, to drive him; that is their sole purpose after all, but today is warm with a nice breeze and the sky is completely clear.
Plus, Wilbur’s license got suspended after he hit two stop signs in 36 hours anyway. With Tommy nor Techno (his other brother) ever even studying to begin driving, Phil is their sole chauffeur at the moment. With two other brothers who have college out of town, Tommy doesn’t mind hanging out at the cafe after school.
Not to mention that in the middle of February, he isn’t wasting this opportunity. He tells his family such, then puts his phone away.
His phone naturally rings out just as he tucks it in his pocket. He maneuvers around his backpack, fishing it out and reading the banner.
Sleepy BIG MEN INC
Dadza
Text me when you want to be picked up.
Me
thx
Dadza
👍
So now he walks to his favorite cafe, just a block from his school. It’s loud, the hot drinks are always cold and the cold are always warm, but it smells like coffee. He just gets water or hot cocoa, anyways. Something possesses him that makes homework a cinch in that environment, so with a new chapter of chemistry, he thought he’d take the advantage.
He checks his phone again after another notification.
Wililbmeur
Why do you even go there
Me
my motivations are beyond your understanding
Tech
The coffee is disappointing
Tommy scoffs.
Me
still beyond your understanding
Dadza
Convincing Tommy of any reason is a lost cause.
Why do you two still try?
Tommy laughs aloud, ignoring that he’s waiting at a crosswalk in view of the world before him.
Me
love how u always support me dad
Dadza
👍
His brothers aren’t his ‘real’ brothers, and Phil isn’t his ‘real’ dad, but Phil is his dad Wilbur and Techno are his brothers.
His brothers despise him with a fiery passion but would kill for him without a second thought- they're undoubtedly his brothers. Phil raised him, he guides him through the bad times and supports him in the good ones. He’s more of a dad than all the foster fathers Tommy has ever known.
Tommy was named after his ‘real’ father. He was a good man, his mother had said. ‘You have his eyes and his name.’ His mother also ‘knew he was the one’ within six hours of meeting him. Abandonment seemed to run in the family, because six hours later his mother was alone, only knowing the nickname ‘Tommy’ to go by.
Just their luck, apparently ‘Tommy’ had skipped town and cut off all contact just after meeting her.
9 months later his mother was still obsessed with the man she knew for only a few hours, so ‘Tommy’ is short for nothing.
Tommy likes to think his name is a curse. Leave or be left; his prophecy turned out to be the latter.
He remembers his mother when he was young. He remembers how much she loved him, and how Tommy never even thought twice about his lack of a father. His mom was all he needed, and similarly, a baby was all his mother needed to care for.
When Tommy was 7, he wasn’t a baby anymore. When he was 7, he developed asthma and was bullied by his peers. When he was 7, his mother had to drop him off and pick him up from school every day, she had to feed him bigger meals, deal with his natural rebellion, buy his medication, teach him and lead him through life.
Tommy wasn’t a baby anymore, and he wasn’t what his mother wanted. He wasn’t a vessel for attention or doting, he was becoming a person, and that scared her.
When Tommy wasn’t a baby anymore, she put him up for adoption. He was a ‘financial, physical and mental’ strain, and she wanted what was best for him. She wanted him to have what she couldn’t provide.
Never having stability, suffering through abuse, navigating his life without ever knowing a home was supposed to be better for him.
She told him he’d be staying at her friends' houses, that he’d meet new people, and that they’d take good care of him. It took him a long time to realize why her friends were so mean.
He remembers learning the word ‘foster,’ and he remembers when he knew she wasn’t coming back. He tries not to remember the way his mother never cried the day she left. She just smiled, patted him on the head, and walked out the door.
After bouncing through foster homes for two years, he landed at Phil’s, the one he’s stayed at since he was 9, the one he continues to love at 15.
Tommy turns off his notifications as his brothers and dad talk in the groupchat. When he was a kid, he never thought he’d be able to say that. Now that he can, it feels like a dream. Sometimes he’s still expecting to wake up.
Tommy crosses the street, jumping onto the curb and turning down the sidewalk. A few more steps and through an open door, then he’s slammed with the scent of coffee. He smiles warmly without really knowing he is. He only gets water, then sits by one of the high chairs by the window.
The atmosphere is hypnotic, and he sifts through his backpack and begins reading without thinking too much about it.
A few of his peers catch his attention with polite greetings, and he reciprocates them accordingly.
He’s gone through just a few paragraphs when the doorbell chimes. That’s nothing new, but the voice that follows it, a loud little girl, is irritating and disrupting the peace of the shop. That was Tommy’s job.
He tries to ignore it, turn his head away from the noise, but he hears a familiar voice reply to the little girl.
He turns around, and he sees a familiar face.
She’s smiling and holding the little girl’s hand. What once was warm and inviting feels sharp and callous. She’s older, but still as chipper, a wide grin as she speaks to the kid holding her hand.
He knows it’s her, because he could never seem to forget his mom.
Over the noise in his head and in the shop, Tommy can’t hear what she says, but he can pick up the tone of her voice. She’s happy. More happy than Tommy ever remembers her, more than he could give her.
The toddler is pointing to something in the window display with a smile. Tommy’s mom shakes her head.
“Please, Mommy!” The girl shrilly begs.
Her daughter begs.
Nausea pools in Tommy’s stomach.
Someone who’s not Tommy’s mom anymore shakes her head with a sad smile, patiently telling her daughter something. The little girl huffs and crosses her arms, and Tommy doesn’t feel the tears falling from his eyes.
He can’t look away as they order. The girl- her daughter- maybe Tommy’s sister- gets a pastry in a bag. Tommy’s mom- her mom- not his- gets a coffee.
Tommy can’t breathe.
“Hey, is everything okay?”
There’s a person standing by Tommy, asking him if he’s alright because he’s crying. Tears are falling on the page below him and his jaw won’t stop shaking.
“Sorry.” The chair loudly screeches as Tommy stumbles out of his seat. He goes straight to the door, ignoring the stares of concerned passersby.
The door closes behind him, and Tommy helplessly fumbles for his phone. It’s instinct at this point to call him when something goes wrong.
“Phil’s here, you’re on speaker Toms.” Wilbur answers from Phil’s phone.
Tommy swallows the lump in his throat, hoping that if he ignores how it feels like he’s choking that maybe it wouldn’t be so. It’s futile, as Tommy sounds nothing but desperate, his voice breaking and wet. “When- can I be picked up now? Please?”
“Tommy-“ Wilbur starts to say.
“Yeah, we’ll be there in a minute.” Phil interrupts. “Are you safe?”
Tommy nods even though they can’t see him. “Mhm.”
Tommy hears a conversation in the background, then a door closing. “Wanna stay on the phone?”
Tommy nods again, then stutters out, “Uh- Yeah.”
There’s a car engine starting and more doors are opened and closed on Phil’s end. Tommy leans up against the wall of the shop, facing the busy street. Cars speed by and people come in and out of the store, a few glancing Tommy’s way.
“Got ‘em. Let’s go.” Tommy hears Wilbur say, then the sound of the car engine smoothes out.
They’re really coming to get him.
“We’re close by, we’ll only be a second. I’ll hurry, I promise.” Phil says with enough genuinity that he could tell Tommy the earth was flat and he’d believe him.
“Okay I love you.” Tommy adds, because he does. He loves him so fucking much.
“I love you too.” Even over the speakers of a phone that’s narrowly avoided multiple watery graves, the words still elicit more tears.
Phil loves him. His dad loves him, so why doesn’t it matter that his mother can’t? Why does it still feel like he’s worthless when he’s told every day that he’s worth everything?
Why does the opinion of someone he doesn’t even know anymore matter more than everything else he’s been told?
Tommy’s attention is brought away from the noise in his head and to the noise from his phone. There’s a text tone on the other end and some shuffling.
A moment’s pause, and then Wilbur says, “We forgot Techno.”
“…Oh, shit.” Phil mutters.
Tommy can’t help but laugh with Wilbur. It sounds sickly and wet, and he’s wiping his tears all the while, but it’s genuine.
“Where’d you leave him?” Tommy asks a little breathlessly from laughing.
“Library.” Wilbur answers.
“He’ll be fine. Text him we'll be right back.” Phil instructs, seeming all too lax about leaving one his sons behind.
Tommy can’t wipe off the humorous smile he has. He fondly remembers all three times the same had happened to him, twice when he was eleven and once when he was thirteen.
Phil always showered him with gifts after the incidents. He would joke that it was to deter Tommy from telling anyone, but Tommy knew it was also a way to spoil him and simultaneously repair Phil’s guilty conscience.
It felt nice. Not to get so lost in Ikea that your family forgets you, but to be worth an apology. To feel remorse over. To be cared for enough that someone wants to repair their relationship with you. That felt nice.
Tommy turns back to look inside the shop, some part of him wanting to see his mother, something saying ‘she’ll recognize us, she’ll apologize and love you again.’
He doesn’t see her. He turns back to the road.
Tommy hates hoping. He wishes he could stop.
Wilbur’s still wheezing.
Phil doesn’t seem much in a joking mood as he tells Wilbur, “Stop laughing and tell him we’ll be back in a minute.”
Tommy can hear the phone move around with a few light thuds.
Wilbur snorts, “He says he’s ‘unattended and afraid.’”
Phil sighs, and Tommy hears the phone move again.
“Don’t text and drive.”
“I’m not texting.” Phil retorts back with the sass of someone Tommy’s age.
Right after Tommy hears Wilbur scoff, Phil asks, “Tech? Can you-“
Techno frantically speaks over him, “Father I am in the autobiography section, please come back-“
“I added you in a call with Tommy.” Phil patiently explains to his adult son, “We’re picking him up and going back for you.”
“…YOU FORGOT ME?” Techno shrieks.
“…Accidentally.” Phil mumbles in response.
“Phil, there’s people here trying to talk to me!”
“I know mate, stay on call with us and people won’t walk up to you.” Phil calmly tells Techno.
“Ooh! Do that thing where you shake your head and point at your phone and mouth nonsense!” Wilbur chimes in.
Tommy smiles, “Burn their houses down. Always leaves ‘em speechless.”
“…I like Tommys plan.”
“Of course you do.” Phil mumbles.
Techno sighs, “I’m just gonna hide in a corner until you’re back.”
Tommy smirks. “Is social interaction too much for the blood god?”
Tommy doesn’t hear Techno’s reply. Instead, he hears the bell above the shop door ring as it swings open.
He watches his mom, someone else’s mom walk out of the store, coffee cup in hand and a beaming smile. She’s holding her daughter's hand, and she’s saying something in the voice she used to talk to Tommy in.
She turns to walk down the sidewalk, towards Tommy. She glances at him like she would any stranger (because that’s what he is now, isn’t he?) before pausing to really look at him. Tommy stares at her, words lost on his tongue, eyes locked on hers.
She studies Tommy like he’s familiar; a raised eyebrow, a parted mouth, one finding the words to ask ‘do I know you?’ without sounding like she’s forgotten her own son.
She nearly speaks up, then decides against it with a shake of her head, and walks away. She never turns back, never reflecting on who she left behind. She’s already forgotten him.
Familiar, but not memorable. Recognizable, but not family. Family, but not yours.
His jaw quivers as he watches her walk away. Tears slip down his cheeks, meeting the screen of his phone that’s tightly pressed to the side of his face. He’s uncontrollably shaking, and the cars passing by have never been so loud.
He doesn’t know her (he hates that he still wishes he did), she doesn’t know him. Two strangers not knowing each other, but one is crying because he can’t let go.
She didn’t recognize him. He can't accept that, at least not wholly. He can’t because it already feels like he’s been torn in half, and he doesn’t know what will happen if he believes this, too.
When he was just a kid, she discarded him like a rock in her shoe and forgot about him just as easily. Was she supposed to remember him now? He was her first born son, but what was he when he wasn’t hers?
Tommy chokes on a sob, painfully aware of how loud it is. Louder than the cars and louder than his thudding heart.
It’s not louder than Wilbur, though.
“Toms? Bubs? Is everything okay?” Wilbur’s worried voice breaks through the noise with the force of a whisper. “Sun-“
Tommy’s voice cracks, “Yeah, sorry.”
He can’t stand to listen to his own breaking voice anymore. He doesn’t want anyone to hear him like this. He doesn’t want to hear himself like this.
“I’m gonna go… um-“ He wants to hang up right then when his throat does that painful crying-gasping thing. “… I’m outside, I’ll see you-“
“We’re here.” Wilbur says.
Tommy hears a delayed version of a car door nearby slamming shut on his phone. He looks up, scanning around for either of them. He turns back to the coffee shop, looking through the inside and out of the window on the adjacent side. He catches a glimpse of Wilbur on the other side, nearly jogging to get to Tommy. Tommy idly presses the red ‘end call’ button.
Wilbur almost skids to a stop when he turns the corner, pausing when he sees Tommy. Wilbur only takes a moment to soak him in, wet face, shaking hands and all. He only takes a moment before he’s running and scooping Tommy in his arms, hugging Tommy like it’s just them.
It’s hard for Tommy to care about anyone else with Wilbur here. He’s gentle and warm but hugs him tight, like he’s never going to let go, and Tommy doesn’t want him too. He wants to stay in the hug forever, stealing his brother's warmth and the way he distinctly smells like coffee. He wants it all and now and he never wants to acknowledge what’s happened, his past or present. He just wants it to be them, and he wants to go home.
Tommy sobs loudly, disrupting passerby and turning heads. Wilbur’s hand threads through his hair, keeping Tommy’s head against his brother’s chest, wetting his clothes in tears and snot.
Tommy pulls at Wilbur’s clothes, wanting to say something, to explain why he’s being such a public disturbance, but the way Wilbur holds Tommy makes him think that Wilbur wouldn’t care if it’s a good reason or not.
Tommy vaguely realizes that Phil is nowhere to be seen and neither is the car, but that’s not his biggest concern right now. Wilbur is here, and he’s not crying alone anymore.
Tommy squeezes Wilbur, and Wilbur returns the gesture.
“It’s okay.” Wilbur whispers, trying to console him.
“It’s not!” Tommy exclaims. Wilbur doesn’t even know what’s wrong, how irreparable it all is. He’s trying to tell Tommy of something that will never be true.
“Maybe not today, but one day.” Wilbur murmurs, leaning down to kiss the top of Tommy’s head.
Tommy grips at Wilbur’s shirt, face twisting in pain.
“Never.” Tommy hisses with such vitriol that Wilbur can’t refute.
Instead, Wilbur hugs him tighter, mumbling an apology.
Tommy looks up at the sound of rapidly approaching footsteps, finding they belong to Phil.
Phil rushes to his sons when he sees them, pulling them apart and holding Tommy’s shoulders. Phil crouches down to study Tommy, tilting his face to different angles and fretting with the smallest details about him.
“I said I was safe.” Tommy mutters with a softly judging frown.
Phil rolls his eyes. “I know, I know…” He says under his breath, dusting off Tommy’s shirt and finally actually looks at his face.
Wilbur walks behind Tommy and rests a hand in his hair, a silent gesture that’s whispering, ‘my brother, he’s mine.’ Tommy doesn’t mind it. It makes his cheeks grow red in embarrassment like all affection does (and of course Wilbur especially insists on doing it in public), but he likes to feel like he’s someone’s.
Why couldn’t he have been hers?
Phil frowns in concern as more tears fall down Tommy’s face. Tommy wishes he could say this is the most he’s ever cried in his life.
Phil leans in, gently prompting, “Do you want to talk about it?”
Tommy tears his eyes away to lay them on the ground.
He doesn’t want to admit it, not to Phil. He shouldn’t feel this way when he has his dad. He shouldn’t feel so incomplete when his brother was rubbing his head in encouragement, supporting him unconditionally.
But he does, so he shakes his head slowly.
“Okay.” Phil sighs, holding Tommy’s face in his hands. He gently brushes Tommy’s cheeks, rubbing them dry. “Let’s go pick up Tech then, yeah?”
Tommy nods and Phil stands, reaching for Tommy’s hand. Wilbur lays his hand on Tommy’s shoulder as Phil leads them back to the car.
“Oh!” Tommy stops in his tracks, halting the others too. “I forgot my bag!”
Phil’s hand slips out of Tommy’s as his dad nods. “I’ll go get it, stay here.”
Tommy doesn’t get much of an option as arms suddenly wrap around him, his back pressed against his brother’s chest. A few people smile warmly at them as they pass, and Tommy knows Wilbur is relishing in the fact that all of them know Tommy is his brother.
Tommy’s cheeks grow hot as he huffs, looking up at Wilbur, who’s leaning down just to be as clingy as possible.
Wilbur moves to stuff his face in Tommy’s hair. “What happened?”
Tommy feels his throat close up. He leans back, and Wilbur doesn’t as much as stumble when Tommy stops holding himself up.
He could tell the truth, the truth that sounds like their family isn’t enough for him, that he’ll always want his mom. He could omit. He could say nothing. He could say that he doesn’t want to talk about it, and Wilbur would listen to him, but Wilbur was perceptive and smart, and he’d figure it out eventually. He could lie, but he would never lie to Wilbur.
He could never lie to Wilbur because Wilbur always understood him, or at least made an effort to.
Wilbur understood him, and he could tell the truth because Wilbur would understand.
“I saw my mom.” Not his mom.
That’s all Tommy says.
Wilbur tightens his arms around Tommy. “I’m sorry.”
Tommy doesn’t respond, but if there’s one thing he knows about Wilbur-
“What’d she say?”
-It’s that he can’t leave well enough alone.
Tommy takes in a shaky breath, something that’s a bit of a challenge when Wilbur’s hugging him so tight. “She didn’t recognize me.”
He can’t stop himself when he continues. “She was too busy with her daughter. Y'know, The kid she actually loves.”
Wilbur opens his mouth to reply when Phil walks through the shop door.
Phil, oblivious to the tense conversation he’s just walked in on, brandishes Tommy’s bag in victory, “I had to show some kid family photos to prove I’m your dad.”
Phil hands over his backpack, and Tommy thanks him. He receives a ‘you’re welcome’ in the form of Phil ruffling his hair (as much as he can with Wilbur’s chin atop it).
They silently agree to leave, Wilbur finally releasing Tommy but still chaining him by his hand. Phil grabs Tommy’s other hand, taking up the whole sidewalk as they each walk side by side.
With Phil on his right and Wilbur on his left, Tommy’s tempted to cry again at the notion of his family.
When they get to the car, Tommy enters the backseat without really thinking about it. He moves on autopilot, distantly absorbing everything around him, all too vividly watching his mother walk away over and over again.
Phil is going around the side and Wilbur is opening the passenger door in the front of the car. Just as he moves to sit, Wilbur catches sight of a glassy eyed Tommy who won’t meet his eyes.
Wilbur then moves out of the way, closes the door, and swiftly joins Tommy in the backseat.
Tommy stiffens at first as Wilbur moves to sit right beside him. Wilbur buckles himself into the middle seat then unbuckles Tommy, dragging the boy to sit on his lap. Wilbur then indulges in his favorite activity, exercising his height by setting his head on top of Tommy’s, and tightly embraces him.
Tommy is too tired and too drained to say that this is definitely illegal, or that he doesn’t need to sit in his older brother’s lap like a child just because he’s a little sad.
But he does want to be held like a child, even if he isn’t one, even if he never really was.
He closes his eyes and goes limp, leaking tension and turning into a puddle. Wilbur just adjusts to hold him closer.
“You’re paying if we get fined?” Phil asks from the front- Tommy doesn’t even remember him opening the door, but the car is in motion and Phil is driving.
“Yep,” Wilbur answers, “Please drive especially safely.”
“Fined for what?” Techno asks on a call that evidently had not ended when they’d gotten Tommy.
“Wilbur’s existence.” Tommy provides, his eyes still comfortably closed.
Techno hums, “That is pretty reprehensible.”
“Oh, shut up-” Wilbur snaps.
“Be nice.” Phil weakly scolds at the same time.
Tommy’s chest starts to ache as his body wants to sob again. He doesn’t want to, but apparently he still had some more indignant anguish left in him. It hurt. It physically hurt, like a hundred pound weight centered right on his chest, crushing his ribs and forcing out uneven breaths.
Tommy drowns out the noise of the others talking, trying his hardest to focus on the things that he felt that were real. Wilbur’s arms around him, the tear dampened collar of his shirt, anything but how much it hurts. He doesn’t want to start crying again.
“Do you want to tell them?” Wilbur softly mumbles into his hair.
The weight on his chest intensifies.
Why does Wilbur have to make everything harder?
“Why?” Tommy asks, twisting to look up at Wilbur.
Wilbur brushes Tommy’s hair out of his eyes, still speaking softly to preserve some semblance of privacy. “It might be important for Phil to know.”
Wilbur always has to make things hurt more, and he always has to be right, too. It’s starting to piss Tommy off.
Tommy glances away, to the cars outside and to the buildings they pass. “…Later.”
“What might be important for me to know?” Phil meets their eyes in the rear view mirror.
Tommy flashes a toothy smile and plays innocent, “That we love you.”
Phil smiles warmly, “Love you too, but you better tell me.”
Phil finishes his sentence with an authority his sons rarely see, but respect nonetheless. Phil has individually earned each of their respect just by being nice. How crazy was that? If you’re nice, people are nice right back to you! Tommy thinks that literally every other adult he’s ever met needs to take notes.
“Later, promise.”
Phil nods, a silent agreement.
“…I think we could murder him and get away with it as long as we say ‘I love you.’”
Phil considers it, tilting his head. “Probably. Don’t test it, though.”
Wilbur snickers mischievously. “Phil, Daaad, can I have a new phone? Oh, and I love you.”
Phil rolls his eyes with a smile. “I’ll think about it.”
Then all hell breaks loose as Techno, Tommy and Wilbur are all throwing in their requests one right after the other, always paired with a sweet ‘I love you!’
“Can I have a new desk chair?“
“I want a horse-“
“-I only want 3 , and I love you, dad!”
“-Cabin away from them, with horses and a few-“
“I love you! Don’t you think it’s interesting that McDonald’s is open?”
“I love you so very much, I’d even go for a Honda Civic-“
“-Please dad! Pleeease!”
“A couple nuclear missiles-“
Phil bursts out laughing, ceasing their overlapping demands. “No! Jesus, Tech- I love you guys too.”
Tommy huffs, crossing his arms and mumbling that he ‘didn’t even want a tiger anyways.’
Wilbur hums, studying the boy in his arms. “You’ve displeased the child.”
“I am displeased.”
“The child sounds displeased.”
Phil takes in a rough breath and intentionally smacks his head on the steering wheel as they park. He deflates with a sigh, a white knuckled grip on the wheel.
“Here.” Phil drones out in nothing less than utter exasperation.
Tommy hears the call end, and out of the building comes Techno. Techno peers inside of the car before entering, taking the empty front seat.
Techno glances at his brothers in the rear view mirror as Phil pulls out of the parking spot. “I get shotgun, nerds.”
Wilbur returns a glare at him. “Just this once.” He warns, petting Tommy’s hair like some cartoon villain with their evil cat.
They’re back on the street soon enough, finally going home.
Tommy probably should tell Phil. She’d moved away the second Tommy had been deposited, and she surely wouldn’t come back to their Tommy’s hometown for no reason, if only to pass by. If it was more than that benign motive, then she would’ve recognized him, right?
Tommy hates that Wilbur always has to be right.
Tommy tilts his head back, looking up at his older brother. Wilbur returns his gaze with a soft smile that Tommy reflects.
Wilbur presses a delicate kiss on Tommy’s hairline. “You’re loved, sunshine.”
Tommy huffs, “Sap.”
“Maybe.” Wilbur hums, still smiling. “But I’m right.”
Wilbur runs a hand through Tommy’s hair, repeatedly pushing it back. Tommy leans back and into the affection, closing his eyes with a content smile.
“Stop being sentimental back there.” Techno monotonously complains.
“As long as they’re not fighting it’s fine.” Phil dismisses with a shrug.
Tommy leans forward, a murderous glint in his eye. “I don’t fight, I win.”
Wilbur peers at Tommy curiously. “How do you get so violent so fast?”
Tommy turns to answer Wilbur. “I’m always violent.”
Wilbur rolls his eyes and pulls Tommy back to his chest.
Tommy protests a bit more to Wilbur’s strangling hugs, but calms down in the end. He’s tired. He just wants to go home and sleep and forget that today ever happened.
People are talking again, and Tommy’s not listening. He’s so done and drained and he just wants to be hugged forever. His nose scrunches up at how clingy his thoughts are.
He just wants a distraction. Every time he closes his eyes, he sees her jubilant smile, how happy she looked with her daughter. Why couldn’t Tommy give her that?
Why wasn’t he good enough?
The questions plague him, plastering a permanent frown on his face. He thought he’d stopped asking himself why he wasn’t worth it a long time ago, but just catching sight of her revived everything he thought he’d gotten over.
He fights back the tears, not wanting to cry all over again. He doesn’t think he could stop once he starts.
The car bumps up their driveway and jolts to a stop. The engine turns off, and they filter out of the car. Tommy gets out before Wilbur, but as soon as Wilbur closes the door behind him, he’s looming over Tommy.
Phil fumbles with the keys, all three brothers waiting awkwardly on the porch. Tommy is reminded with a nudge from Wilbur while staring at Phil that he really does need to tell him… but Phil’s opened the door and walked into the house, leaving the rest of the family to follow behind him.
Wilbur is the last inside, closing the door behind him as Techno enters his room and disappears at breakneck speed. Wilbur returns to lurking over Tommy’s shoulder, and as Phil is about to turn the corner into the kitchen, Wilbur shouts for him.
“Phil!”
Tommy is going to kick Wilbur.
Phil pops back into view, hand on the wall. “Yeah, mate?”
“About what happened today-” Wilbur glances down at Tommy right before he winces from a knock to his shin.
Phil walks up in front of them to converse, crossing his arms. “Don’t kick your brother.” Phil levels a stern look at Tommy, ignoring the defensive exclamation of ‘I didn’t!’
Phil looks above Tommy, back to Wilbur. “And what about today?”
“I think Tommy should tell you.”
Tommy’s throat quickly closes up and his hands grow sweaty. He glances awkwardly around, trying to think of any way to delay this further.
Tommy is going to kick Wilbur again.
Wilbur puts a hand on Tommy’s shoulder, squeezing gentle encouragement. Tommy takes in a breath.
His heart pounds in his chest, in his ears and in clenched fists. He feels like his legs are going to give out, already wobbling where he stands. All eyes are in him, waiting for him to admit it. Hell, to just say something.
Phil breaks through the wall of panic.
“Whatever it is, I love you, Tommy.”
Tommy squeezes his eyes shut.
He’s definitely going to cry.
“I saw my mom today at the café.” Tommy blurts out, a little too loud and a little too broken.
It’s silent. Tommy opens his eyes, watching Phil’s blank expression.
And then, in normal Tommy fashion, his mouth just keeps moving. “I did not like it, 0/10 stars, which is why I wanted to leave. Not a fun experience, will not recommend.”
“Did she seek you out?” Phil asks, his fingers now on his chin.
Tommy tries to say it, but he can’t. He’s hardly breathing again and the weight on his chest is back tenfold. He glances back to Wilbur in desperation, and Wilbur offers a reassuring nod.
Tommy turns back to Phil, ignoring the tears beginning to flow down his face. “No. She didn’t know who I was.”
It tears him apart to admit it. She didn’t know who he was, or she didn’t want to. His own mother thought he wasn’t worth knowing.
Phil nervously frowns. “…Sorry to ask this, mate, but you’re sure it was her?”
Tommy locks eyes with the floor. He remembers all too clearly how she spoke, how she smiled.
“Yeah.” Tommy hardly utters.
Phil hums. “Alright. I wasn’t notified, so she’s probably just visiting, but I’ll tell them anyway. And Tommy?”
Tommy looks up to meet Phil’s eyes. “Yeah?”
“I know that was hard to talk about, thank you for telling me. You impress me every day.”
Tommy sniffles and shoves away some tears, “Don’t mention it.”
Phil gives a welcoming smile and opens his arms out to Tommy. Tommy doesn’t even consider it before he’s shuffling forward and leaning onto his father, held up by the arms that hug him.
He cries into Phil’s chest, gasping and ugly. Phil just hugs him, but that’s all he really can do, and that’s all he needs to. There’s movement behind him, and then behind Tommy there’s another weight, another body added to their equation.
Wilbur is slinking his arms through the hug to wrap exclusively around Tommy. He then bends down, nestling his face in Tommy’s shaking shoulder.
His chest constricts under the weight of everything he feels, all because someone he knew eight years ago didn’t recognize him.
Tommy stutters out through painful gasps, “She didn’t remember me!”
Phil sighs, something so painfully empathetic. “I know. You deserved better.”
And that one comment makes Tommy’s entire brain stumble over itself.
Tommy was the one who wasn’t enough for her, he wasn’t good enough and he was discarded because his mom needed someone better. Why did Tommy deserve better when he couldn’t be better for someone else?
Tommy’s voice pitches as it cracks. “What?”
“You deserved a mom who loved you unconditionally, who wasn’t there for the attention or the paid time off work or anything else but you.” Phil carefully explains to Tommy, unseeing his visible distressed confusion. “I promise, I fucking promise Tommy, that I’m only doing all of this for you.”
Wilbur awkwardly clears his throat, still resting on Tommy’s shoulder.
“And your brothers!” Phil quickly corrects, “You and your brothers, I do everything for. It’s not attention or any of my own self interests.”
Tommy’s seen it first hand. He’s seen his mother neglect his own joy in favor of spreading the news of a victory, ignoring his sadness so she could babble about the turmoil. But, the older Tommy got, the less new experiences he had. The more… average and normal everything was. Picking up your kid from school everyday isn’t exactly something you’d go to your friends and brag about.
But Phil, he was there when Tommy graduated to highschool. He was there when he cycled through friend groups, when his IT club won a state competition. When Tommy was bullied in middle school, when he lost his childhood stuffed animal, and when he accidentally burned half of his room, Phil was there to help him pick up the pieces (and use the fire extinguisher). He isn’t watching Tommy’s life, he’s living with him.
Phil pulls his sons into his arms, “I’m here for my boys because I love them. Nothing less.”
Phil loves them all, but this time, there’s proof.
Tommy’s still crying just as hard, but now he’s thanking Phil, and he’s thanking Wilbur and Techno, who isn’t even here, because they’re his family, and to them, he’s worth everything.
“One moment.” Phil hushes, moving to press Tommy and Wilbur’s head to his chest and shoulder, covering their exposed ears with his hand. Still, Tommy can hear him scream, “TECHNO!”
Tommy and Wilbur are released, and moments later, Techno’s door opens and the man himself pops out.
“Wh- Oh.” Techno mouths before making his way to the group.
He awkwardly joins the hug, oddly resting over them with his arms splayed out, but to Tommy it’s perfect.
Their hug is perfect. His family is better than he thought anyone could ever be.
Even if his first family didn’t work, he couldn’t ask for a better one. Sure, it would’ve been nice if his mom loved him, but he also knows that he wouldn't trade this for anything. This is his family. Not his first, maybe not even his last, but it’s his family right now, and right now, he’s the luckiest, most loved boy in the world because of it.
“Wil, you need to shower.”
“You are literally named after a music genre, shut up.”