Chapter Text
It was an open mic at the local bar that week.Tommy was out past curfew but it didn’t really matter.No one would notice.Even the people at the bar weren’t likely to remember him.
He was sitting alone drinking a coke and watching people sing karaoke with the bar’s band.Some sounded good while others just did it for fun.He wasn’t here for singing or drinking,he was just here so he wasn’t at home, if you could call it that.He was drinking the soda quietly when he felt a tap on his shoulder.
“Ayy Tomas! How ya been?”
“Hey Quackity, I’ve been.”
“That bad huh?”
“I wouldn’t say bad.”
Quackity looked him over,taking in the disheveled look to him,the bags under his eyes that resembled bruises,his hair was dirtied with unwashed grease and dirt or mud from somewhere.the biggest thing however was the color of his eyes,a deep and bright blue,were a slate grey.
“Tommy man,when was the last time you sang?”
Tommy looked at him confusedly.
“What does that matter big Q?”
Quackity looked at for a moment something sad in his eyes.He always knew more than he should.Tommy used to love singing,wherever he went a bright and melodic voice followed.He got it from his mother,the only good one in his family in Quackity’s humble opinion.After his mom passed they stopped caring about Tommy.Tommy had no one to really sing to besides his family who just told him to shut up, so he stopped doing it, much to the annoyance of Quackity.
“You’re singing.”
Tommy’s arm was seized by the short and somehow unnecessarily strong man
“What! No big man,you don’t gotta let me sing,I’m fine!”
“I’m not letting you,I want you to sing.”
Tommy looked at him with some mix of disbelief and distrust but allowed himself to be dragged to the stage.
“Any song requests then, Q?”
“Hmmmm what’s that one you wrote last week?”
“Fourth of July?”
Quackity felt a bit bad asking Tommy to sing it,with all the emotions it he’d for him,but he was selfish and he wanted to hear it.
“Yes!”
“Fine, big man.”
Tommy turned and got the piano from the bar's pianist. ( only after a glare from Quackity at the man’s initial refusal, but Tommy didn’t have to know that)
“If I sing this will you let me sit back down and drink my soda”
“Absolutely not another word from me”
“Fine pinky promise”
Quackity fought a smile but returned the boy's gesture,holding out his pinky and making the unbreakable promise.
Then Tommy started to play.
:D
The group of friends was at a table near the bar when they saw Quackity, who usually plays the role of “mysterious and jaded bar owner” go up to some random kid and start talking to him.
This in itself is befuddling as Quackity seems to have a particular hate for children from what they had seen when those two kids had come into the bar earlier,Tubby and rainbow? Either way, seeing Quackity talk to a random kid was strange then they overheard the kid calling him “Big Q” Which,what the frick they never get to call him any nicknames but this random,what,12 year old does??
It gets even weirder when Quackity practically drags the kid to the stage.
“Oh god is he going to embarrass a 12 year old”
“George come on,he wouldn’t,right?”
“I mean,I wouldn’t put it passed him”
“Schlatts got a point I don’t see an alternative”
“Well maybe he can sing?”
“He doesn’t look like the type that can sing”
“SAPNAP”
“Oh come on Karl,look at him”
“Just because he doesn’t look like he can sing doesn’t mean you say it!”
“Sapnap right I mean look at him”
“DREAM-“
They were interrupted by the sound of a piano.From across the room looking up,they were shocked to see the kid.Why wasn’t it the pianist? Quackity sat next to Karl tapping him on the shoulder to announce his arrival silently as he watched the boy on stage.
“Quackity!”
Despite the welcome, Quackity stared forward with a sad smile as the kid began to sing.
“The evil it spread like a fever ahead, it was night when you died,
my firefly.”
The group at the tables jaws dropped.(metaphorically of course the alternative is meant for a horror story)Everyone except Quackity who silently closed his eyes and leaned back with a melancholy smile still plastered on his face.
“What could I have said to raise you from the dead? Oh could I,be the sky on the Fourth of July?”
A tear flowed down Quackity's face as the voice continued intwining effortlessly with the chords that rang out from the piano.
“Quackity are you ok”
“Yeah,I’m fine”
Quackity's voice was hoarse but his eyes were bright when they opened despite the tears that filled them.
“Well you do enough talk,my little hall,why do you cry?
Tell me what did you learn from the tillamook burn,or the Fourth of July?”
“We’re all gonna die.”
The singer's voice was filled with tears and held a hoarse quality much like Quackitys,but it seemed to hold no effect over its melodicness.
“Sitting at the bed with the halo at your head,was it all, a disguise, like junior high.
Where everything was fiction,future,and prediction,
Now where am I?
My fading supply.”
Quackity said nothing as he sat there,watching Tommy. He knew what the song was about,he knew it couldn’t be easy,and yet even with the tears and emotion it seemed effortless.He was born to play and sing.Just like his mom, if even Quackity who only knew her from stories could see that,why couldn’t Tommy’s family?
“Did you get enough love, my little dove? Why do you cry?
And I’m sorry I left,but it was for the best.Though it never felt right.
My little Versailles”
The names that ran throughout the song,Quackity had been told,where all things Tommy’s mother had called him,at some point or another.
“The hospital asked,should the body be cast, before I said goodbye,
my star in the sky.
Such a fun thought to wrap you in cloth, do you find it all right?
My dragonfly.”
Some didn’t make sense as Tommy had told him that some were said while she was sick. The group at the table looked at Quackity strangely,they had never seen him cry.
“Shall we look to the moon? My little loon,why do you cry? Make the most of your life,while it is rife,while it is light.”
The song was nearing to an end and he could feel his friends' questions building as Quackity wiped his eyes with his sleeve.
“Well you do enough talk,my little hawk,why do you cry?
Tell me what did you learn from the tillamook burn?
Or the Fourth of July?
We’re all gonna die.”
The last part repeated for a while in different intonations before it was just the music which did out quickly after.
The sound of clapping hands and cheers filled the bar as Tommy stepped down wiping at his eyes and walking over to Quackity.
“Ya know why big Q I absolutely hate you”
The people at the table's jaws once again dropped at the kid's casual insulting of Quackity along with the nickname, but Quackity just laughed.
“ yeah I deserve that,I can get you another coke?”
“Yeah sure big man.”
Quackity patted him on the back as he went to refill the glass and Tommy sat back down at the bar.Then he felt a tap on his back.
“Hi! I’m Karl, me and my friends heard you singing.”
“It’d be kind of hard not to bossman.”
Karl laughed quietly.
“That’s fair,what song were you singing?”
“Oh uh,it’s called Fourth of July.”
“Nice, I don’t think I’ve heard it before.”
“That’s because it’s an original."
Quackity said cutting in.
“Big Quuuuuu”
Tommy dragged the letter out in annoyance,dropping his head down on the bar.
“What?! It’s good!”
“YOU WROTE THAT?!”
Tommy seemed to shrink to himself.
“Yeah?”
“Tommy!,” Quackity cut in again,”Isn’t past your curfew?”
“Yeah big Q, but you know it doesn’t matter”
“I’ll give you,” Quackity pulled out his wallet and counted his money,”54 bucks if you get home before one am,and you have to take a picture to prove it”
Tommy grinned.
“You’re on”
He ran out of the bar,Quackity turned to Karl with a death glare before dragging him by the collar to where everyone else was sitting before dropping him down into a seat.
“SO,we need to talk.”
“Yeah id say we did,who was that,what the frick is going on,and why haven’t you told us anything?”
“Okay first,that kid's name is Thomas but he goes by Tommy alot of stuff about him isn't mine to tell,I couldn’t tell you much even if it was.”
“So what can you tell us?”
“His family is crap,his mom is dead,he’s amazing at singing but never does it,and if he gives you a nickname,he trust you if you say anything bad about the nickname, he will lose all that trust.not sure why but it’s tried and true and I will personally kill you for it.”
“So that’s why he can call you big Q”
“I want to meet him.”
“Karl you just did”
“No! I mean like meet him, meet him.He seems interesting!”
“Oh god Sapnap he’s going to adopt him.”
“IM NOT GOING TO ‘ADOPT’ HIM”
“Does anyone else want to meet him?”
Quackity asked exasperated,running a hand down his face.everyone raised their hand quietly and Quackity sighed.
“I will let you meet him but there is going to need to be some rules.”
“How many?”
asked Schlatt sceptically
“A couple at least I’ll text you a list,and if you want to know him you might as well help me I’ll text a couple other things to”
Quackity went to the back room of the bar handing his apron over to slimecicle, as the others theorized what he’d be like,placing bets on it.
:D
That night after they left the group got a text from Quackity.
Rule one - Do Not insult him in a way that it is not clearly teasing
Rule two - Do Not use words such as annoying, brat, stupid, around him
Rule three - notify everyone else if anything possibly bad happens ex:injury, panic attack, ect.
- More to be added
Code one - yellow - hadn’t eaten/hasn’t eaten enough
Code two - red - injured
Code three - blue - panic attack
Code four - black - missing
Code five - green - bad situation that everyone should know ( but hasn’t been too to everyone )
- more to be added
:D
Tommy made it home at 12:54 and quickly took a picture, it was just barely not one but that still meant he got the money.
He went in quietly, closing the door with the handle held down so it wouldn’t click, avoiding the stairs that creaked, as he made his way up to his room.It was empty besides a desk,bed and nightstand.He had tried to put stuff on the walls but Phil said something about peeling the paint with the tape Tommy didn’t say anything about all the posters and papers on the walls in Wil and technos rooms.In the closet there was some cloths and a small box at the bottom filled with all the report cards,grades and pictures he had drawn that Phil never looked at let alone hung up.
Tommy didn’t bother changing as he hung up his phone texted Quackity the picture and plugged his phone in to charge. He plopped down onto his bed and fell asleep quickly.He was glad he didn’t dream since that would only lead into a nightmare,though it would be more like a memory.Phil would ignore him,Wilbur would kick him out of his room and call him a brat,techno would laugh with Wilbur when he cried.
He remembered before his mom died,before Wilbur and techno started hating him,when Phil was less indifferent. They had stopped caring after mom died.stopped loving him.Sometimes he wondered if he remembered incorrectly,if they never loved him in the first place. He didn’t want to think about that. Even if it was fake it was nice to think they did, at least once.
Tommy rolled over to his night stand and opened the top drawer,pulling out a small Polaroid photograph.In the picture he was 5,Wilbur and techno were 14, and Phil was 22, in the picture mom was still alive and healthy she was 20. They were all together and smiling, techno was leaning his chin on Wilbur’s shoulder while Wilbur held Tommy and Phil and Kristen had their arms around each other encircling the boys. They loved each other.
“Goodnight,i love you”
He whispered to the picture,and he pretended they said it back.