Tommy faded in and out of consciousness in confusion.

He tried to scream as his head warmed, feeling like it was about to explode.

He watched as Tubbo was dragged from his arms, puffing into smoke as red and orange lights blared in his vision.

He screamed this time, the sound shrill and ear-splitting. Hot oil boiled up to his throat.

His vision spun like a top, blurring light pink and green and blue and grey.

And then he woke up.

Tommy's mind was fuzzy as the sunlight blared in his vision, warming up his skin. He wasn't in the snow. His mouth was sore and a heavy thing sat at the back of his head.

There wasn't a warm spot near the bottom of his stomach.

He shot up.

"Woah, little dude, not so fast-"

A man with kind blue eyes and shaggy blonde hair stood up slowly, holding his hand out calmingly. Blonde stubble dotted his face. Tommy jumped up, scrambling off the bed, his head whipping around quickly.

"Where's Tubbo!?" Tommy looked around in panic, breaths starting to rise. "Who are you? What did you do to him?"

"Kid, sit down you have a fever-"

"Where is he?" Tears started to blur his vision, confusing him. He didn't know why he was crying. He never cried. Why was he crying now? Everything was so blaring and spinny. He shot his hands out, trying to defend himself. "ANSWER ME! WHERE IS HE?"

"He's safe, he's safe, I promise that. He's just in the other room." The man took a timid step towards Tommy, making him back farther into the hard beige drywall. "Tubbo- Tubbo's safe. That's his name right?"

Tommy nodded quickly, tight breaths escaping his chest. Tears started to dry on his cheeks, and he quickly tried to wipe them away to not let the man see as he pushed himself further into the corner.

"Tubbo. Got it." The man took another step forward like he was approaching a wild animal. "What's your name?"

Tommy wiped his nose with the back of his hand, standing up despite his legs that felt like lead and the feeling of his head splitting open. "My name is T-Tommy, and y-you are going to show me where Tubbo is and then f-forget that we were ever here, g-got it? O-Or I'm going to f-fuck shit up."

"Mhmm." The man looked him up and down, unimpressed. "Not like that, you're not."

"T-Try me, bitch." His teeth were chattering as he suddenly felt cold again.

"Look, kid." The man sat down on the bed gently, patting a space next to him. "C'mere."

"I'm not going anywhere, bitch." Tommy hugged his cold arms, picking at the red spots.

"Come. Here."

Tommy let out a growl from the back of his throat, but he still clambered over to the bed, sitting the farthest away from the man as he could. He crossed his arms.

"Here."

Tommy felt a soft blanket placed on his shoulders, the gentle fabric falling on his bare arms. He hugged it closer.

"I'm Phil."

"Did I ask?" Tommy peered at him from under his blanket.

"Are you hungry?"

---

Tommy's hand rustled the aluminum foil covering as it searched for another handful of a taffy cookie thing that was so sweet, it would probably give him diabetes. He shoved another scoop into his mouth, looking around at the living room of the house he was in. Cold daylight filtered through the windows.

"I wouldn't eat that if I were you."

Tommy whipped around, taffy surrounding his mouth and painting his hands. A bleary-eyed and grumpy teen with messy long pink hair tied in a ponytail drifted into the kitchen, pulling his fuzzy grey bathrobe closer. His glasses hung crookedly off his nose.

"Our neighbor, Niki, gives that to us every year," The boy grunted, pulling down the handle of the coffee machine. It coughed, before dispensing black coffee into a mug. The teen watched it numbly. "Swear she's tryin' poison us or something with all that sugar."

"I eat what I want." Tommy stuffed his mouth defiantly, even though he started to feel a little sick. "Who're you?"

"Don't talk to me like that before I get my coffee, kid. You'll be dead, and it won't be because of all that sugar in the taffy." He stirred his coffee around with a spoon before taking a long sip of it, sitting down at the granite island. "You'll need to know that if you're gonna be staying with us for a bit."

"I'm not planning to stick around here, so I don't know what you're talking about," Tommy grunted angrily. "Now who the fuck are you?"

"Name's Techno." He took another loud sip from his mug. "And you're lucky I don't want my coffee to get cold, or I'd go over there and beat the snot out of you."

"Are you long-haired bitches son?"

"Number one, my father is not a bitch. Number 2, yes, I am." Techno stirred his coffee again, the spoon clinking on the rim. "Any other questions?"

"Where's your mom?"

Techno paused for a moment, a flicker of emotion crossing his face for the first time before resuming his usual monotone expression.

"Dead," he spat out, standing up to put his coffee cup in the sink.

"No more questions."

"What happened to her?" Tommy blurted out with no filter, not knowing he was being insensitive. Death was usual in the orphanage and in foster homes. His parents were probably dead.

Even if they weren't, he could care less.

They were dead to him.

He could care less, he said to himself. He didn't need parents anyway.

"I said, no more questions." Techno's monotone voice edged on anger. "Just eat your taffy."

Before things could escalate, the long-haired man named Phil entered the room, Tubbo following behind him, drowning in a Christmas ugly sweater.

"Tubbo!"

Tubbo's eyes lit up with happiness as Tommy bounded over to him happily, ignoring Phil. He checked him over for bruises or scratches.

"You all good, big man?"

Tubbo tilted his head from side to side, shrugging his shoulders. He pointed to his head.

"Yeah, my head hurts too," Tommy said sympathetically. He grabbed his hand, heading over to the counter. "Here, try some of this taffy shit, it's really good."

"Nuh-uh-uh!" Phil scooped the container from the counter, placing it on a high shelf that Tubbo nor Tommy could reach.

"HEY!" Tommy crossed his arms angrily. He didn't like all the rules in this house already. First the not asking questions thing, now the not being able to eat sugar. "BRING IT BACK DOWN HERE DICKHEAD!"

"I'm not letting you kids eat something that's gonna make your fevers even worse!" Phil's voice was filled with genuine concern, his eyebrows furrowed softly.

Tommy looked at him with confusion. Nobody had ever looked at him that way. Most of the time people couldn't be bothered if he ate poison.

He shook himself, preventing himself from softening.

"Well, then." He said with a humph, "Give us our bag, and then we'll be on our way."

"And I can't let you guys do that either," Phil said, crossing his arms. "You two have to stay here until your parents come and get you."

"Well, surprise, surprise, bitch, we don't have parents." Tommy retorted, looking away. Phil's eyes widened. "Bet you didn't see that one coming, did you?"

"You guys don't have parents?"

10 minutes later, they found themselves on the couch underneath a blanket, telling their story, sipping on hot cocoa in front of them. Tubbo slurped his cereal hungrily, but Tommy didn't touch the food, doing most of the talking. After he finished, he looked away, avoiding the weird stare of their sympathetic eyes. He wasn't used to it, and he felt exposed.

"I-I honestly don't know what to do." Phil leaned forwards, resting his elbows on his knees. Techno cracked his knuckles in thought next to him. "Do you want me to bring you guys back to the orphanage?"

Tubbo's eyes filled with fear and he violently shook his head back and forth as Tommy yelled out, "NO!"

Phil put his hands up defensively. "What's wrong with the orphanage?"

"It's a shit place." Tommy looked over at Tubbo, who was spaced out, in his own world. He stared back protectively at Phil, growling, holding the edge of the couch. "You'll take us back there over my dead body."

A little frown appeared on Phil's face as he thought. "We're in a really difficult position here."

Tommy jumped as a door suddenly swung open.

Another teen emerged, rubbing his eyes sleepily. His gray sweater and collared shirt looked slept in, dark eyebags under his glasses. He ruffled his brown hair, yawning, and looked over at them.

Confusion spread across his face, and he rubbed his eyes again, as if trying to make the images of Tommy and Tubbo disappear.

"Look who finally decided to show his face." Techno sneered, sipping his second cup of coffee.

Phil stood up, his face stern. Out of force of habit, Tommy scooched Tubbo and him to the other side of the room.

"Good morning, Wilbur. I believe we have to speak about some things." Phil's voice kept calm and stern, and Tommy waited for him to explode. "Are you aware that your curfew is at 11 pm, and you certainly weren't back by that time?"

"I don't know what you're talking about." Wilbur said sleepily, lying, still trying to see if Tommy and Tubbo were real. Tommy got himself ready to run when things got messy. "I was sleeping at 11."

"Wilbur, wandering around town past 11 pm is dangerous, and I know you weren't in your room at 2 am. I checked."

And to Tommy's surprise, Phil didn't sound mad.

He sounded actually worried and concerned.

Tommy had never met someone like this strange, long-haired man.

He certainly was an anamoly.

He waited for the explosion and it never came.

"Please don't lie to me. I'm your father. I need to know where you're at. My job is to keep safe, and you need to help me with that." Phil's blue eyes were only filled with love.

"Dad, why are there two kids on our couch?" Wilbur blurted out, interrupting him.

"This is Tommy and Tubbo. They're gonna be staying with us for a bit until I figure out a safe place to put them." Phil explained softly, before returning to his stern tone as emotions started to build on Wilbur's face.

"What-"

"You've violated the rules too many times, Wilbur. I think I might have to take away your car if you keep sneaking out and putting yourself in danger like this."

And just like that, something exploded.

"I HATE YOU!" Wilbur screamed in Phil's face, clenching his fists into balls. "I HATE YOU I HATE YOU I HATE YOU!"

Tommy stared at Wilbur, flinching in hurt for Phil, but still seeing something in Wilbur nobody else could see.

Something that he had felt many times.

"HOW DO YOU EXPECT TO TAKE OF 4 KIDS WHEN YOU CAN'T EVEN TAKE CARE OF 2!"

Wilbur's comment stung Phil, his cheeks reddening in embarrassment. Tommy didn't expect to see such hurt in the eyes of such a big man.

Everyone except Techno jumped as Wilbur slammed the door loudly behind him.

"Dramatic, aren't you!" Techno called out after WIlbur, before returning to his coffee.

Phil stood there, speechless.

And Tommy stared at the shaking door.

---