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Tommy really hated the taste of alcohol. He didn't understand how anyone willingly drank beer or -even worse- something mixed with vodka. If he'd have to drink another one of those godawful drinks that Tubbo had made him when he got here he'd probably puke. But hey, he wasn't judging anyone, it just didn't make sense to him why people got drunk when it just tasted so bad.
Like what were they getting out of it anyways? The drunkest he'd ever been was maybe tipsy, but that was just being a little more giggly and excited. It felt like when he was spending time with his friends, which he did almost all the time and he was sure other people did too. It just seemed inefficient to get this feeling through bad-tasting liquor.
Which is why he was sipping at his fruit punch that didn't have any alcohol in, allegedly. You really couldn't trust anyone, but Wilbur had told him that it was fine and he believed him. It didn't taste weird so it was probably fine and he didn't feel weird either after his third cup so he deemed it his safest option.
Speaking of Wilbur, the blond hadn't seen him in ages. He dragged him to this party of James' because he was apparently old enough to drink alcohol, even if he didn't, and it was gonna be fun. At least that's what he had said. Now he's fuck-knows-where and Tommy was standing alone in a corner because he also didn't know where the fuck Ranboo and Tubbo went.
Lovely. Just his luck.
Well, he'd find someone. It wasn't like he knew half the UK anyways. He wandered around after he drained his cup and got another one. This stuff was tasty as hell. There were some people he didn't actually know, some of them looking around his age. Why not give it a shot, eh?
Joining the group of people he found out they were playing some sort of drinking game. One of the group -Billzo- gave him some cards and explained the game to him. It wasn't actually that hard and Tommy came to enjoy himself more than he had thought, but these people were actually fun.
After some time his cup was empty again and Billzo offered to fill it up alongside his own cup. Tommy just agreed and continued the game with the others. After he came back with the same fruit punch for both of them, Tubbo and Ranboo came back from their adventures. Turned out Bill knew them.
"Eyy Tubbo! Didn't know you were here."
"Well, I didn't know I'd be here either bossman. This is Ranboo."
"Hallu."
"Nice to meet you, wanna join?"
They settled down next to Tommy and another person called Aimsey, before the rules were explained. Ranboo didn't drink anything either so the drinking game didn't make that much sense for both of them, but it was fun anyways.
After some time his cup was empty and Tommy had to piss. He excused himself and tried to stand up. Key word being tried because he almost failed three times to even get on his feet before Ranboo helped him.
"Wooow, you good?", they asked, worry evident in his voice. Tommy just waved at them with his left hand, almost hitting Ranboo's face. "Yea, don't worry big man", he said, swaying a little before he got it under control.
He was not okay. Everything was spinning and he didn't even know why. He couldn't hold onto a single thought and he hadn't even noticed while they were playing the game because he bad stopped playing like half an hour ago. Or was it half an hour ago? He didn't know. He had no sense of time. Fuck, he felt horrible about what was happening.
He realized he was still holding onto Ranboo, who looked at him with concern. Well, all the others were looking at him too. How long had he been standing there? Had he said anything weird? God, he didn't know. He didn't know anything. His head hurt. He needed to leave.
Before he let go of the taller's jacket he made sure he was actually able to walk before he made his way to the bathroom. He heard Tubbo call his name, -or was it someone else?- but everything was just muffled noise to his ears. And there was so much noise.
He had no idea where the bathroom was, or maybe he did, but he couldn't think clearly at all. The fruit punch is fine, someone in the back of his mind said, you'll be fine. Liar. He wasn't fine, he was the actual worst he had ever been. Wilbur had lied to him.
Wilbur. Right. He needed to find him or he couldn't go home. But he wasn't on his way to Wilbur when he started, right? Where was he going? God, fuck, shit. He had no idea.
He grabbed his hair and tried not to scream. It was loud and smelly and stuffy and he couldn't breathe well and there were too many people dancing and shoving him and he couldn't see shit and his head hurt and he felt like he'd fall over any second and and and and-
Someone stumbled into him and he almost hit the other person because don't fucking touch him before he opened his eyes -he didn't even know he had closed them- and realized it was Jack who looked like he had had a few too many drinks already.
"S'rry my bad,, Tommy? Ah, the bathroom 's free"
And then he was gone. Right. Fuck, yea, the bathroom. He looked up ahead and tried to focus enough to differentiate the bathroom door. It was a few steps away and had a big sign that said "Piss" on it.
Tommy almost laughed but what came out was way closer to a choked-up gasp so he didn't think about it too long before he made his way into the room. The closed-off space was small, clearly only for guests, but it was quieter in there and not a single other person could bother him.
He gasped again before he slid down the wall next to the sink, closing his eyes and hugging his knees.
What the fuck was wrong with him? Why was he seeing everything wonky or not at all? Why was his balance so fucking off? God, he didn't know.
And everyone knew that he didn't know. And they were probably laughing at him because there was something deeply wrong with him. After all, he had just fucking fruit punch for fuck's sake. There was no reason for him to act this way. And the others knew and he didn't even know them that well and Billzo was fucking fine with his fruit punch so why wasn't he?
Why was he sitting in this fucking bathroom all alone because he couldn't even walk? He couldn't breathe and he couldn't think because every thought he had was lost again and he didn't even know where he was.
Suddenly the music was too loud again and Tommy covered his ears with his hands, trying to block out as much sound as possible. It didn't work. It didn't work and it was so loud and his t-shirt was too tight and he was suffocating.
There were probably people waiting outside. Other people actually had a reason to go to the bathroom unlike him, who was just sitting on the floor because he was a fucking burden to everyone all the fucking time. He couldn't stand up even if he wanted to and the others outside were screaming at him to open the door because he was pathetic and stupid and nobody even wanted him there and he was blocking the bathroom for absolutely no reason.
He needed to get his shit together. But everything seemed against him, not even his own body working the right way because he couldn't breathe and he couldn't move because he was frozen in his spot because he was a useless piece of shit and-
"Hello? Are you ok?"
Someone was here. He hadn't locked the door. Fuck, fuck fuck fuck fuck- he held his breath hoping they wouldn't see him which was stupid because he wasn't a child, he knew this, but maybe if he made himself invisible, small enough, they would just leave. But they didn't because they saw him because he was too tall and they knew- they had to know what a fuck up he was because they were still here-
"Oh buddy, you need to breathe.", they said as steps could be heard.
They came closer. He couldn't see them because his eyes were still squeezed shut in the hopes they would just fucking leave him alone. He could hear them, taking a step closer and his hands were fisting his hair now and he prayed to all the gods that they'd just leave.
Don't touch me, don't touch me, don't touch me, please don't touch me, go away, leave me alone, don't touch me don't touch me don't-
Tommy screamed. It was too loud for his ears and it hurt his vocal cords. His eyes hurt and he still felt like he was floating in the worst way possible and the person was still there and they wouldn't leave but they were so close Tommy just knew.
He didn't know why he had screamed. He didn't know what else to do. He could feel another one trying to slip past his lips and he felt like he was falling through the floor. He opened his eyes. Tommy had to close them again because it was so bright in the bathroom that his head hurt.
He opened them again and he had forgotten that there was someone in there with him. They were right in front of him. Why the fuck were they so close?! They were gonna touch him he had to get away they, needed to leave before, before-
"You're hurting yourself, c'mon buddy"
They reached out. Tommy could only watch in horror as the hand came closer and closer to his face and he couldn't do anything because he was still frozen and fucking god how pathetic can someone be. He couldn't, they couldn't touch him, he-
"DON'T TOUCH ME!"
The scream ripped itself from his lungs like a bandaid, making the other person jump away from him a little bit. He was grabbing at his arms now and he had no idea when that had happened but it was something else to hold onto until they were gone and he could finally calm down.
"Hey now, I'm not gonna hurt you", they said, frowning at him as if he was stupid. Or maybe they were disappointed. Tommy had always been bad at reading other people but now he had no idea what the other was thinking and it scared him.
But they will. They were gonna grab his hands and pin him down until he wasn't able to do anything else but cry and then they'd laugh at how pathetic and helpless he was even though he was so tall and then they would-
His breathing became even more hectic and through his blurry vision he could see red streaks on his arms and oh god, how was he going to explain that to the others? He couldn't- they wouldn't want to be friends with him anymore because he was a fucked up foster kid that no one actually liked and-
Something touched his arm. No. Someone.
"DON'T FUCKING TOUCH ME!", he screamed, struggling to move away. "I'm helping you", they said, grabbing at his hands harder than before. He wasn't strong enough to break free, they were hurting him and- "No! Don't touch me, don't-", he choked out, voice broken and raw from the screaming and crying. They didn't listen to him. No one ever did. "Come on now stop fighting me I'm just trying to help-"
He lashed out and his hand collided against the others face. The time stood still for a second. He had hit them. Oh god. Oh fuck. He was gonna die. They were gonna kill him. Fuck fuck fuck- No even worse, they'd tell Wilbur and then he'd tell Phil and they wouldn't want him anymore and-
"What's going on in there? Are you ok?"
More people. Why were there more people coming in? They'd all see him and they would know and then they would send him back because he was a fuck up and that would never change, even if he tried, because he was still not fucking breathing.
"He's acting like a child having a tantrum, I don't know what's wrong with him.", they growled, probably angry at him. Fuck. "Isn't that Wilbur's kid?", the other person asked, looking at Tommy before their eyes drifted back to the other one. "Oh yea, that makes sense he's a pushover too, huh.", they said, the words muffled to Tommy's ears. Had they said something important? "Hey now don't say that, I'll get him."
What were they saying? He couldn't understand what was happening. The blood in his ears was rushing fast and loud. Were they talking about him? Probably, right? People were always talking about him. There was always something to say about him. There were so many things wrong with him, Jesus fucking Christ.
The hands were on him again. Why didn't they listen to him? It was because he had hit them, right? It's what he deserved. No. Yes. His head hurt. Fuck. He was screaming again, he could feel it. They didn't let go of his arms even if he tried his hardest and they would soon overpower him if he didn't fight back. But fighting back never did anything good for him. Why were they still touching him? Fuck, his skin was burning and he was gonna throw up.
They were grabbing his arms and Tommy tried his best to keep his hands on himself, clawing at his skin. It's the only thing that mattered. He had to hold onto something. Onto himself. They wouldn't let him and he cried and screamed but they just didn't care-
He hated it. He hated them and he hated himself and he hated the whole fucking situation, because he still didn't fucking know what the hell was going on and nobody was helping him and they didn't let go-
"Get the fuck away from him!", someone yelled. The voice was familiar, but he couldn't understand why. Was it the person from earlier? He didn't know. "I'm just helping-"
His arms were free again. His grip tightened. He could feel himself.
Apparently he had closed his eyes again because he had to open them again to see what was going on. Someone was laying on the floor with blood on their hands. Did he do that? Oh god, did he hit them so hard they were bleeding?! Fuck god no that couldn't happen, that was wrong. That was bad.
The person's nose was bleeding and they were trying to stop it with their hands. He couldn't have possibly done that, right? Tommy was too scrawny, too helpless to actually fight back. But nobody would believe him, nobody ever did and- he looked up and saw someone else standing right above the bleeding person, saying something.
"-and if you don't get the fuck out of here right now I'm gonna hit you for real, dickhead"
Wilbur. Wilbur. Wilbur was here. Oh god. He got the person away from him. He saved him! But why was he here? Oh no, was he here to get him to go home? Would he tell Phil? He definitely would tell Phil, oh god, oh no, fuck fuck fuck-
"Tommy? Its Wilbur, can you hear me?", he said, voice soft. He tried to curl into himself more, even if that wasn't possible. Wilbur wasn't close, not like the other one had been. He was sitting a few feet away on the floor. Tommy looked over his shoulder at the door where people were standing and watching him. He had made a scene. Again.
"Do you want me to close the door?", Wilbur asked. His eyes drifted back to Wilbur. He nodded. He didn't want anyone else watching them. He already felt too exposed to the world and he was still panicking- oh. That's what this was. He was having a panic attack. No. He didn't have those. He was just causing a scene again, like he always did.
Tommy heard the door close and Wilbur sit down again. It was silent except for the sobs and hectic gasps for air coming from him. He was still grabbing at his arms because there was nothing else he could do.
"Tommy? Can you hear me? It's Wilbur.", Wil said again, his voice calm and steady, something to latch unto. He nodded. He heard water flow for a few seconds before it stopped again and he heard Wilbur sit down again.
"Do you know how to calm yourself down?"
He shook his head. Of course, he didn't know. He normally just waited this out until it went away.
"Do you want me to help?", he asked. Tommy hesitated for a few seconds. What if Wilbur tried to touch him? What if he tried to forcefully hold him down so he could calm down? Would Wilbur do that? No, no he wouldn't. But he lied about the punch. He wasn't trustworthy.
"Ok, listen, Tommy, I won't touch you. I have a cold wet washcloth in my hand. I'm going to lay it on your hands so you can grab onto something. If that's ok with you, nod.", Wilbur said, after the pause got too long.
He nodded, that sounded fine. Soon after he felt the wet cloth on his arms and he stopped scratching them. Instead, he grabbed at the cloth and squeezed it. Cold water dripped down on the floor and over his hands and arms.
"Breath with me, okay Tommy? Just follow me. You can do that, I know you can. In 1,2,3..", Wilbur said, continuing to count to 6 while breathing in and then counting to 4 while breathing out. Tommy struggled immensely with keeping up and panicked again because he couldn't follow Wilbur's simple rules, why couldn't he-
"Tommy you're doing great. Just keep breathing. You're good.", Wilbur reassured him, before he continued to count, his voice echoing through the bathroom with Tommy's gasps.
He didn't feel good. The cloth was still cold in his hands. He looked at it, it was green. He followed Wilbur's breathing until he felt like he wasn't dying anymore. Then he just cried silently until he found his voice again.
"Wilbur-"
God, he sounded horrible. His voice was scratchy and broken and he was shaking so much you could hear it. What a sorry picture he must be. "Tommy, you're fine. I'm here, it's Wilbur. You're in James' bathroom.", Wilbur said, quick but not hectic. He sounded so calm. Maybe the situation wasn't as bad as Tommy had thought.
"Wilbur, I'm-"
He didn't even know what he wanted to say. His vision had cleared a bit because he wasn't panicking any more and the crying had stopped almost completely. He sobbed again when he looked at Wilbur.
The older man was sitting cross-legged on the floor around two feet away from him. He was holding another green washcloth against his right hand. His glasses were on the floor next to him, but he watched him intensely anyway. He looked worried.
Why was he worried? He hadn't sounded worried. Maybe he was scared that this fucked up his reputation because the weird kid living with him couldn't even handle some fucking fruit punch without acting up in the bathroom.
"You're panicking again. Toms, listen to me. Do you know where you are?", he asked and now that Tommy could see Wilbur while he spoke, he didn't look that calm. "Bathroom."
"That's right, you're in James Marriott's Piss bathroom. Do you know how you got here?", he said, probably aiming for a joke that fell flat because Tommy didn't know how he had gotten here.
"I don't,, I don't know- Wilbur I don't know-", Tommy said, trying to keep his gasps to a minimum, because why the fuck did he not know? He should know. He had to- "Shhh it's ok, you're good Toms, everything is fine.", Wilbur said, voice smooth and soothing. It calmed his nerves a bit.
Wilbur looked conflicted. But that was to be expected because Tommy was a fucking mess nobody could deal with. On top of that, nothing was fine.
"No, no somethin' 's wrong,,,, somethin' 's wrong with me.", he said, slurring his words a little because he couldn't even talk normally anymore. "Nothing is wrong with you-" "Everythin' s wrong with me! I c'nt walk 'n my head is swingin' ", he said, too loud to his own ear.
"You're drunk Tommy, that's normal. You will be okay.", Wilbur said with so much confidence that Tommy was taken aback a little.
He was drunk? Why was he drunk? That didn't make any sense.
"Skeppy spiked the fruit punch. This is my fault and I'm sorry, I didn't know.", Wilbur explained, looking down at his hands. "Skeppy,,, spiked the punch?" Tommy had no idea what that meant. "Yes, he put alcohol in it. I don't know what but that doesn't matter. What matters is that you're gonna be ok. You're not used to alcohol so your body is confused. It will be okay. I'm not angry with you."
He wasn't? But that didn't make any sense either. Nothing was making sense. Why was all of this so confusing?
"But I hit someone 'n they wer' bleedin..", Tommy said. Surely that would make Wilbur angry. He wasn't supposed to hit anyone or fight back, ever. He was just supposed to take it but he hadn't listened and now Wilbur would be angry with him.
Wilbur grabbed his glasses and put them on before he sheepishly smiled and unwrapped his right hand. His knuckles were red and on the washcloth was blood.
"That was me, don't worry. You did nothing wrong and they deserved it.", he said, putting the cloth back on the wound for a bit. He didn't look worried about that. Why was he so nonchalant about that? "Wha'?" "You told them not to touch you but they didn't listen, so I punched them. Consequences of their own actions."
Huh. Wilbur had punched someone for him. This night was only getting weirder. His hands were still trembling and he felt his body still completely full with unease. He looked back at Wilbur and made a decision.
"Can I hug you?"
Wilbur looked surprised. But smiled at him after some seconds. Then he opened his arms and uncrossed his legs.
"Sure, come here."
Tommy was a little hesitant, but wrapped his arms around the older anyways. It was weird, hugging someone. He didn't do this very often, especially not with other foster siblings, but Wilbur was different. Wilbur cared. The hug felt like something he had desperately needed for a very very long time so he clung to the other man as if it was his lifeline. And maybe it was.
He felt Wilbur soothingly stroke his hair, messing it up even more. They were quiet and slowly but surely all the energy left Tommy's body. Suddenly he felt stupid for clinging to the other like that. He wasn't a child anymore.
Tommy unwrapped himself until he was just sitting on Wilbur's legs. Like that he was some inches taller than him. Only after some time, he realized that this definitely was not an ideal position. Heat crept in his face and Wilbur seemed to notice because a big smirk formed on his face.
"What's wrong? Found yourself in a compromising situation?", Wilbur said, barely holding in his own laughter. "Let go of me you freak, this is weird.", Tommy complained, pushing away. "Awww, you don't wanna make out with your older brother? I'm hurt." "Stop you idiot!", Tommy laughed.
Wilbur didn't let go and instead started tickling the younger. In a fit of giggles, he squirmed away from him back onto the floor. The room definitely wasn't big enough for two tall lanky men and so Wilbur had to grab Tommy to make sure the other didn't hit his head on the toilet.
Wilbur reached out and got a hold of Tommy's left arm. Instead of keeping him from hitting his head he actually caused the opposite. Tommy panicked and pulled away as fast as he could, which resulted in him hitting his elbow on the wall.
"Ow fuck, Jesus fucking christ bitch-", he complained at the same time as Wilbur said, "I'm sorry, are you ok-" They looked at each other and laughed. At least they could still be stupid together, maybe not all was lost. Maybe this hadn't destroyed their relationship.
And then Wilbur's eyes drifted to his arms. He looked down at that, shocked at what he saw. Both were still bleeding a little bit, tiny red balls that showed on his raw skin like some sort of rash. It looked horrible. Tommy tried to cover his arms as best as he could, protecting Wilbur from the view.
"It's nothing, it'll go away, I promise.", he said. He didn't want to get in trouble and if he could convince Wilbur that this was fine, maybe he'd get to stay the night- "Tommy, we need to disinfect it or else you'll get an infection. Do you want to do it yourself or should I do it?", Wilbur asked. He was not getting away with this, was he?
Tommy looked at his hands which were still a little shaky. He sighed. The damage was done anyways. If he was gonna be sent back he might at least go there without having both of his arms infected or whatever Wilbur was saying.
"You can do it.", Tommy said after some hesitating, voice defeated and flat. "Alright."
The brunet went searching for the first aid kit and found it in the cabinet under the sink. Someone was knocking on the door, but Wilbur send them away again. Tommy just wanted to go home. Or, well, he at least wanted a bed. He could convince them to let him stay the night, right? It was too late to pack up his things.
He was still sitting on the floor and the world was still spinning. It wasn't as bad as before, though, and he could think a little bit better. Just so that some thoughts didn't fly away the second he had thought them.
"Here, drink. It's water.", Wilbur said, holding out a cup to him. Tommy took the cup and downed it in one go, not even realizing how thirsty he had been before. When he was finished Wilbur kneeled down in front of him and got to work. After he was done, both arms were bandaged up and they had used the whole first aid kit. To be fair, it was a shitty first aid kit.
"All done. Do you want to stay here or go home?", Wil asked as he put the remaining stuff in the first aid kid. His arms were burning underneath the bandages. He took a moment to focus on what Wilbur had said. "I want to go home..", he answered truthfully. Then he remembered someone."-but Tubbo.."
He didn't want to leave without saying goodbye. That would just be wrong. He looked down at his bandaged arms and cringed. He looked like a suicidal maniac. He couldn't go out like this.
"Suppose I can't go say goodbye when I look like I just attempted suicide."
He had wanted to make a joke and laughed a little but Wilbur's glare made him stop immediately. "Don't joke about that.", he said, voice unusually low. Tommy felt like he had said something horrible and flinched a little. "Right, sorry"
Wilbur's gaze softened immediately. He looked at Tommy for a few seconds, his eyes resting on his arms for a little bit longer, some emotion flashing through his eyes that Tommy couldn't identify. Then he looked down at himself as if he was trying to decide on something before he sighed.
Wilbur pulled off his glasses and put them on the sink. Tommy wanted to ask what was going on, but Wil was already pulling his long-sleeved shirt over his head, mumbling something that suspiciously sounded like "Stupid Techno always has to be right, fuck him."
He wore a muscle shirt underneath and Tommy wondered why on earth the other was wearing two shirts at a fucking party, he was already sweating in a t-shirt. It made no sense, but then he saw the scars on the other's arms. They were thick and long, some of them going right from his wrist to his elbow. Wilbur had them on both arms and even if they were healed they were extremely noticeable. Tommy couldn't take his eyes away from them, there were so many smaller ones-
"Come on, I thought you wanted to say goodbye?", Wilbur said, obviously trying for a nonchalant sound but his body language betrayed him. He was holding out the shirt with his left arm, waiting for Tommy to take it. He wasn't standing as tall as he usually was, his other arm across his stomach to hide the inside. He avoided eye contact when Tommy finally looked up.
"Wilbur I can't-", he tried to protest, seeing as Wilbur was so uncomfortable, but the other interrupted him. "Just put on the shirt Tommy, okay? I'll be fine." He didn't really look fine.
"But, are you sure?", Tommy asked, worried. Wilbur looked at him, then, and something changed. "I am."
The smile on Wilbur's face was so blindingly honest that he couldn't even get himself to argue any more. So he put on the shirt which was just a little too big on him and finally stood up from the floor.
Surprisingly he wasn't as wobbly on his feet as he had been before. He could stand without falling over which was a success to him. He didn't even feel bad anymore. (That was a lie.) The light in the bathroom wasn't blinding him anymore and the noise wasn't as bad. He could do this.
"Ready?"
He smiled at Tommy. Tommy nodded and smiled back. Then, after unlocking it, they finally walked out the gooddamn door with the Piss sign. He would be fine. He had Wilbur by his side who willingly put himself out there on a fucking silver platter for stares just so that Tommy could walk through the party without any weird looks. He felt like crying.
They made their way through the crowd quickly after Wilbur was asked what had taken them so long in the bathroom by another person. "I just helped my brother", Wilbur had said, annoyed at the insinuation. Something warm had bloomed in Tommy's chest at that. Wilbur called him brother often enough but it just felt crazy to hear it every single time.
They came across Wilbur's friend group first.
Niki seemed to notice them first and shot Wilbur a questioning look. Probably because of what the hell he was wearing, aka nothing. At least nothing that could hide his scars. Niki didn't seem very surprised to see them though, she probably had known.
When they arrived, the others turned to Wilbur too, not even batting an eye at the other's appearance. Schlatt was the first to speak.
"Aren't you cold, Soot?", he asked, eyes firmly on Wilbur's face. Wilbur just shrugged. "Tommy was cold, so I gave him my sweater.", he lied. Tommy held his breath for a second, but they seemed to believe Wilbur because the group just laughed. "Aww, how disgustingly sweet of you."
They laughed and Wilbur said goodbye, as did Tommy before they moved on. At least that's what he had tried to do, but Tommy already was a few steps ahead of him when he realized that Wilbur wasn't by his side any more. He panicked a bit before he spotted him.
He was only five feet away from him. Niki was holding his hand and she looked like she was going to cry. Tommy's alarm bells rang and he walked back, ready to ask what was wrong, before the words they were saying finally carried over to him.
"I'm so proud of you, Wilbur.", Niki said, voice strong and certain, even if there were tears in her eyes. "Nothing to be proud of.", Wil said, but he wasn't avoiding eye contact and there was a quirk to his lips that Tommy wouldn't have noticed if he hadn't been staring at them to hear the words better. "Stop saying stuff like that. This is a big step and you should be proud of it. I'm proud and I'm sure the others are, too."
Wilbur didn't quite look like he knew what to say so he just simply hugged Niki and thanked her, smiling at her, before he joined Tommy again. He didn't dare say anything, but he noticed the small change in Wilbur's body language anyways. He walked a little more confident through the crowds, shoulders drawn back and arms swinging casually. It almost made Tommy cry again. He needed to fix that.
They arrived at the group with Tubbo and Ranboo. They weren't playing the drinking game anymore, now simply playing Jenga. They didn't notice them at first, but when Ranboo did they accidentally knocked the tower over.
"Oh come on Ran, what the hell was that?", Aimsey asked, laughing even as they dramatically went to grab the pieces to built it up again. "Tommy is back!", Ranboo said, making them stop in their tracks. All of them looked up at the two. First, obviously at Tommy because they actually knew him. Tubbo spoke first.
"Are you cold?" "What?", Tommy asked, confused by the other's question. "You're wearing something different big man", Tubbo explained, pointing at the sweater. Right.
"Oh, right. Yea, that's Wilbur's. I was cold and he gave it to me.", he said, successfully using the same lie Wilbur had.
The other's looked at the man Tommy was pointing at.
Wilbur had his arms crossed, looking down at the group consisting of 6 teenagers.
"Are you all actually old enough to drink?", he asked, his accent dramatized. Tommy hid his laugh behind a hand as Aimsey quickly hid their cup behind themselves. Billzo gasped, offended, before he said, "We are! At least old enough for beer." "Frankly, I don't believe you. Maybe I should call your parents or something-"
Tubbo knew Wilbur was just fucking with them and threw a Jenga piece at him. He wasn't good at dodging so the piece just hit him square in the face, making him scowl. Tommy couldn't hide his laugh behind his hand anymore and burst out laughing along with the rest.
"Ok ok, whatever. Say your goodbyes Tommy.", Wilbur said, laughing himself. "Ohh, you're leaving big man? Thought so actually, you weren't handling the alcohol very well.", Tubbo said, looking conflicted before he shrugged. The others laughed and Tommy did too, hiding the way it hurt a little bit. But it wasn't their fault. They didn't know. There was no use getting worked up over this.
"Yup. Didn't wanna drink anyways. I'll see ya t'morrow Tubs, Ranboob. Bye-bye to the rest", Tommy said, waving at the group. "Bye!"
They waved at each other and Tommy and Wilbur made their way outside. They walked to Wilbur's car and Tommy wondered on the way there if Wilbur really wasn't cold. Because he was feeling cold in the two layers of clothing and surely the older would catch a cold if he walked around like this at night.
"Are you gonna drive?"
"What? No, of course not. I'm gonna call Techno or Phil to pick us up."
Phil. Right. He was going to tell Phil and then he was gonna be sent back. That's what all this was leading up to. It didn't matter that Wilbur wrapped up his wounds or that he gave him his sweater. At the end of the day, he had been a nuisance to the other which led to them leaving the party early.
Tommy felt like crying again, so he just let the tears slip past his eyes. He was too drunk and too tired to care.
"Did you really think I would do all of this-" Wilbur pointed at himself "While I was sober? Fuck no, I'm way too much of a coward for that."
He didn't even listen. Wilbur wanted to have a good time at a party and he fucked that up. Of course, he was gonna tell Phil. And then he'd get up tomorrow and they'd tell him with a sad voice that he'd have to leave because they didn't want a problem child.
"Tommy? Why are you crying? Are you okay?", Wilbur asked. "You can stop pretending.", Tommy spit out, angry that he had thought things could actually work out for once. "What?" Wilbur sounded confused. "I know that you'll just send me back anyways so you don't have to do all that anymore. I don't care.", he said, even if he did care. He cared too much. He always did.
And just as they reached Wilbur's car he was full-on crying again. At the end of the day, he'd be dehydrated enough to die because of it.
"What do you mean we'll give you back? Tommy, you're-", Wilbur said, but Tommy interrupted him again, too worked up to listen to him. "Because that's what always happens when I act up and make a scene! Nobody wants me after that and they always sent me back because they don't want a troubled child and-" This time it was Wilbur that interrupted him.
"Tommy, you were having a panic attack. You weren't acting up, that was a normal reaction to all the overwhelming stuff that was happening. And anyway, you won't go back. You're adopted, Toms."
The crying stopped and he looked at Wilbur with big eyes. Adopted? Right. Fuck right he was adopted! Had been for around two weeks now. How could he forget that? He was adopted! They weren't ever gonna send him back because this family wanted him so much that they adopted him!
"Oh Toms, how could you forget that? I was never pretending to care about you. Never ever. I love you. You're my little brother. I'd do anything for you.", Wilbur said, voice cracking for the first time that night. They hugged again, because Tommy was so overwhelmed with his emotions he didn't know what else to do.
"Don't tell Techno I said that. Like, ever.", Wilbur said, voice muffled in his hair. "Why not?" "He'd tease the living hell out of me." Tommy chuckled and let go of Wilbur. Taking a step back again. He still had too many emotions in him, so he went and shook his hands as if they were wet and he wanted to dry them. It helped a little.
"Awww, are you embarrassed because you have feelings?", Tommy teased, the smile on his face too big. Wilbur shook his head but grinned at him. "No, because he was right."
Well, that was some information he'd have to think about tomorrow again when his brain wasn't muddled with the thoughts of "oh my god I'm adopted", "Wilbur loves me whoa" and "I'M ADOPTED THAT'S POG".
While he was shaking his hands and smiling like an idiot, Wilbur called Techno. The older wasn't happy to be called this late but told them he'd be there in 10 anyways.
It did take a little longer than that, but he didn't complain. They were sitting in Wilbur's car listening to music until they could see Techno in Phil's car driving towards them. It was almost as old as Wilbur's car, but it was recognizable by the big letters that said "camavan" on the side.
When they settled down, Wilbur was in front and Tommy in the back. It was quiet. But it wasn't bad, because Techno's silence was comfortable. He hadn't even greeted them verbally but the quick nod in his direction was good enough for Tommy to not feel too bad.
Techno glanced at Wilbur a little too long so the other scoffed.
"Shut up.", he said crossing his arms. Techno just looked ahead and started the car. "I didn't even say anything." "You were about to! I could see it in your eyes.", Wilbur said, voice accusing. "Hm.", was Techno's answer, which seemed to rile up Wilbur even more. "Don't 'hm' me! I'm not cold or whatever so shut it." "You're drunk.", Techno stated. Wilbur just slumped down in his seat. "I'm not, shut up."
Techno didn't react to that and the quiet made Tommy even more tired. He normally didn't sleep on car rides, too afraid to miss where he was going. But there was no reason to be afraid. He was with his brothers. And they were gonna drive to Phil's-
They were driving home.