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Tommy was alone once again. That was fine. He didn’t care about the other kids living in the house anyway. He kicked a stone off the path he was meandering down as he scowled. The feeling was decidedly mutual if the ditching of Tommy on the way to a Hallowe’en party was any indication.
He didn’t even want to go out in the first place, that he got dressed up as a werewolf was purely to fit in with his foster siblings and not because Tommy had never gotten to celebrate Hallowe’en properly before. Not at all.
He had briefly considered going trick or treating by himself instead of the party but being ditched really sucked the fun mood out of everything, so he just wandered around the housing estates. His foster parents wouldn’t be looking for him or the others for some time yet and so he had some time to kill, time with him alone with his thoughts.
The abandonment wouldn’t have hit as hard but for the fact that he had had a slow growing hope for his current house and that was due to one small fact. No-one had touched his stuff.
Tommy had precious few items that he considered his and that meant that he didn’t like anyone touching them or taking them from him. He’s found out over the years that people are dumb and don’t cotton on to this despite multiple explanations. That had been the breaking point for a lot of Tommy’s past placements.
The counselor said he had anger issues. Tommy said that if the others simply didn’t touch his things, he wouldn’t bite them.
....
That explanation didn’t go down exactly well with the authorities and now Tommy was a problem child. People take his shit without permission and not only do they get off scot free, but Tommy gets in trouble. Typical.
Well, he’d learned his lesson. He now keeps his important shit on him at all times. He wasn’t leaving that to chance anymore.
Anyway, he had his things, his hopes were dashed, and he’d been abandoned in an unfamiliar neighbourhood. He would have been more worried, but Tommy couldn’t bring himself to feel anything but disappointment. Who knew that being let down that many times would do that to a person.
He reached the end of the overgrown path and was faced with the edge of a forest. Usually he was all for a little exploration but it was pitch dark and Tommy didn’t want to get lost in a forest when he knew no one would be looking for him, but he had nowhere else to go. When in doubt, sit it out. He plonked himself down on the curb.
What a bust of an evening. The one good thing was that he had spent no money on his shitty werewolf costume, just taking a random hand-me-down from the house.
The others really were dicks, letting him choose a costume when they knew they were going to ditch him not even halfway there. They must have got a kick out of it.
His upset was turning into anger, enhanced by the fact the shitty costume tail was the most uncomfortable thing to sit on. He reached back and ripped off the fake tail, hurling it as far away as he could. After taking his anger out of the tail, he felt all the energy drain from him, tucking his knees up to his chest and resting his forehead on his arms that held them up. He startled for a moment as his forehead met the coolness of his gold bracelet, but it grounded him and soon, as his mind settled, he forgot all about it.
He sat like that for a few minutes, calming down and trying to come up with a way to get home, when an unfamiliar voice chimed in, startling him out of his head.
“What are you then?” Tommy looked up to make eye contact with a lanky man with a beanie that did nothing to hide his pointed ears who had asked the question.
“What?” The man gestured to the top of Tommy’s head and he realised he was still wearing his costume ears. The man was asking about his costume.
“... A werewolf.” The man eyed him for a moment before continuing.
“Where’s your tail then?” Tommy’s eyebrows raised.
“You can’t just ask someone where their tail has gone. What the fuck dude?” He got a sheepish smile in response.
“...You’re right, sorry.” The man seemed to gather himself and coughed slightly. “Anyway, where’s your pack?”
Tommy thought that was a weird way of asking where his “friends” were, but mentally shrugged it off.
“Don’t have any.” The guy looked horrified at that.
“What about your parents? You’re not alone are you?” Tommy bristled at that, baring his teeth. Who was this dude?
“Why do you want to know, dickhead? Kinda weird of you to come up to a kid and ask that, that’s wrong un behaviour.” The man backed off a bit while waving his arms around frantically.
“I just don’t think a kid like you should be out alone on today of all days.”
“What, Hallowe’en?”
“Yes, of course.” The man seemed confused at his confusion, “Were you never taught that on All Hallows’s Eve the separation between the planes is at its weakest?”
“... What do airplanes have to do with dressing up as witches?” The man stared at Tommy, so he stared right back. The audacity of this bitch to stare at him as if Tommy were the weird one here. Not only was he asking the strangest questions, he didn’t even know what he was dressed as, an elf? He had the pointy ears and tallness that he associated with elves.
“My name’s Wilbur.” The man- Wilbur- offered as he walked to sit down near to Tommy on the ground, Tommy side-eying him as he did so.
“Weird name for an elf motherfucker.”
“I’m not an elf!” Wilbur refuted loudly.
“You’ve got pointy ears. What else am I meant to think?”
“I’m obviously a siren!”
“I don’t see no flashing lights on you, pal.”
“What does that even mean?” Wilbur stared up at the sky in disbelief, looking like he was questioning why he was talking to Tommy. Good, so was he.
“Like WEE WOO, you know?” Wilbur rolled his eyes.
“Not that kind of siren you child, like the mythical kind.” Tommy squinted at him.
“Sounds like a shit elf if you ask me.” Wilbur threw his hands up in frustration, and Tommy grinned in response. They sat in silence for a moment before Wilbur piped up again.
“What’s your name then?” Tommy decided why not? What could this guy do with his name.
“Tommy.” Wilbur smiled.
“Nice to meet you, Tommy.”
“I’m still on the fence with you, you’re a bit weird.” He replied, completely deadpan. Wilbur laughed at that, even though he was being completely serious. “For real though, don’t you have somewhere else to be? Like a party or something? It is Hallowe’en after all” Wilbur just looked up at the sky.
“Nah, all my friends are busy.”
“So what, you see the first kid you could find by themselves and strike up a conversation?”
“I was on my way home and saw you sitting on a curb by yourself, had to see if you were alright.” He nudged Tommy"s arm with his own, “Us supernaturals gotta stick together, right?” Tommy snorted at that, a werewolf and a weird elf.
“Do you have a place to stay for tonight?” Wilbur asked.
“I’m not homeless!”
“You said you don’t have a pack! What else am I meant to think?”
“What does that have to do with anything?” Wilbur looked concerned at Tommy’s confusion.
“... Have you ever had a pack?” He asked lightly and Tommy was so confused. This entire conversation made no sense.
“I don’t know what that is so I’m gonna go with no chief.”
“Pack, like, your family.” Tommy huffed. Why didn’t he fucking say that then.
“Not that it’s any of your business, but I’m a foster kid.” Wilbur took that in for a moment before continuing.
“Where’s your foster family then?”
“I don’t fucking know, okay!” Tommy burst out, standing up with the eruption of emotion. The absurdness of the conversation plus him not knowing where he was overcame him.
“My foster siblings ditched me for a party, I have no idea where they are or where I am, and I don’t even know my foster parents phone number, which would only be useful if I even had a fucking phone to call them with!” Tommy breathed heavily, staring down at a wide eyed Wilbur before coming to his senses, realising that he had just yelled at a random guy about his problems. He sagged and sat back down on the curb like a puppet with his strings cut.
“I’m sorry.” Tommy muttered, “Didn’t mean to take that out on you.”
“It’s okay, you seem like you have a lot on your plate.” Wilbur replied carefully.
“I guess…” There was silence for a moment before Wilbur spoke again.
“Well, if you’re stuck for a place tonight you can bunk at mine.” Tommy stared, surprised at that offer, “Only if you want to, no pressure!”
“Are you serious?”
“Sure, beats sleeping on a curb.”
“I mean, I guess you’re right…” Tommy hadn’t thought that far ahead, to be honest. It was getting cold in the evenings pretty quickly, and he really didn’t want to be outside for that. He weighed the options in his head. On one hand, a couch to sleep on during the night, inside and warm, on the other, Wilbur might be a murderer.
…
Okay, Wilbur was kind of weird but despite Tommy thinking it, he really didn’t get a wrong un vibe from the man.
“Okay.” He said simply.
“Really?” Wilbur said, surprise colouring his tone, “Do you wanna head back now? It’s getting kind of late.”
“Sure, why not. Lead the way, Wilbur.” Wilbur stood up, brushed off his trousers, and held a hand out to Tommy.
And Tommy took it.
Okay, Tommy had made up his mind about following Wilbur home, the want of a warm place to stay for the night trumping any danger, but the second that he realised that said home was in the middle of the forest, Tommy had his misgivings.
“You sure you’re not going to murder me and hide my body in the forest?” Tommy asked warily. Wilbur just laughed, as if that wasn’t an extremely valid question.
“Nah, my house is in the forest, I swear. No murders.” Wilbur looked back at Tommy, grin still on his face, “Heads up though, I live with my dad and brother and they can be a bit intimidating but they’re alright, really.”
Tommy squinted at that tidbit of information. If Wilbur wanted to calm him down, that was probably not the best thing to say. He might have well said, I’m not going to murder you, but I can’t say the same for my family! But that he even warned him kinda felt like a good sign because if Wilbur was a wrong un, why would he warn Tommy? Unless this was some reverse psychology bullshit. Ugh, his head hurt.
Before he could reach a proper conclusion, a large clearing revealed itself with a house sat in the centre. It only took him a single step into said clearing for an uncontrollable shiver to run through him. He looked up anxiously at the house. It was giving him weird vibes™.
As far as he could see there was nothing wrong with the house, it looked like a cute cottage, a meandering path leading up to the door bracketed by wildflowers, but there was just something that was telling Tommy that he was encroaching and he did not like that feeling.
Wilbur, evidently not feeling the same, simply welcomed Tommy in. He grimaced before taking a forced step past the threshold.
“PHIL! WE HAVE A GUEST” He jumped as Wilbur’s booming voice rang out, any weird feeling instantly dissipating. Composing himself, he noted a blond man walking down the stairs.
“Hey Wilbur, welcome back.” The man belatedly replied, at a much more reasonable volume. He saw Tommy and smiled. “Oh, you brought a friend!”
“Yeah, this is Tommy,” He turned to Tommy and motioned to Phil, “This is Phil.”
“Yeah, I got that from you busting my eardrums open a second ago.” He grouched before continuing with a mutter, “Not like I was standing right next to you or anything.”
Wilbur waved Tommy’s words away, but this was overshadowed in Tommy’s mind as his eyes caught on the movement behind Phil. There was something on his back. Phil noticed where his attention was and chuckled.
“Don’t worry about these, mate,” And the things behind his back moved out, spreading, “They’re just my wings.” Tommy’s mouth fell agape.
“OH MY GOD, they look so cool!” He gushed as he fixated on their movements. Those were the realest looking fake wings he had ever seen!
“I didn’t get as good a reaction earlier.” Wilbur muttered to himself, but Tommy didn’t even spare a glance towards him.
“There is no competition. You’ve got pointy ears and Phil’s got wings ! That’s amazing!” Phil shuffled a bit, a smile still present on his face. There was a moment of silence where Tommy was entranced by the wings but he snapped out of it to catch the tail end of some unspoken conversation Phil and Wilbur were having over his head.
“How did you guys meet then?” Phil asked, coughing slightly as Tommy made eye contact with him.
“Oh, Wilbur came up to me all creepy like and asked where my tail was like that’s something a normal person would ask.”
“I was curious!” Wilbur defended, as Phil sent him a reprimanding glance.
“Well, it was rude! And anyway, we started talking, and he thought I was so cool so he invited me back here to vibe.”
“Yeah, Tommy told me he had no pack .” Tommy squinted at Wilbur. He could hear the fucking italics when he said pack and was beginning to think it was like a code word or something. Phil’s expression softened at Wilbur’s words, and Tommy bristled. Code word or not, if they started pitying him, he was going to start throwing hands.
“It’s good to see Wilbur actually talking to someone for once.” Wilbur let out an offended ‘Hey’ but Phil continued talking over him, “You’re welcome here anytime Tommy.” Tommy wanted to curb stomp any pity, but the clear genuineness of Phil’s speech made him simmer down slightly.
“You’ve just met me, but thanks, I guess.”
“No problem.”
A door creaked from the back, and Tommy’s hackles were up again. It felt like he was on an emotional roller coaster and he wanted a fucking refund.
“Techno, you took your time.” Wilbur said to the person and Tommy remembered a mention of a brother. He looked up.. and up.. and took in the towering figure with bated breath. A strike of fear sank through him as he was met with a hulking boar-like figure who rumbled out a reply.
“Next time tell us when you’re going to have guests over beforehand and we might actually be here.” The being grunted before noticing Tommy. “So, you’re the guest?”
He snorted at Tommy’s stiff nod before walking over to the table. It was the glint and clink of the very realistic sword that dropped Tommy over the edge.
He could accept elf ears. Those were pretty easy to fake, the hyper realistic wings? Sure, a bit more of a stretch, but sure, he could accept them. A completely new type of being? One who towers, looking like a boar with cloven feet as well? Tommy didn’t know what he had stumbled into, but he was not falling for it anymore. His wide eyes flitted from Phil to Wilbur, Wilbur noticing the panic that had erupted in Tommy.
“Hey, hey, are you okay? What’s wrong?”
“... Is that makeup, or- or special effects?” Tommy stuttered out. Wilbur stared at him before answering.
“Have you never met a piglin before, Tommy?” Tommy could only shake his head.
“What’s a piglin?”
“They’re a race of magical creature from the nether plane.”
“Nether plane?” magical creature? Tommy thought, panicking.
“Yeah? You know, one of the many magical planes connected to this one?” Tommy shook his head frantically as he backed up towards the door.
“It sounds like you’re saying magic is real, Wilbur.”
“That’s because it is? How do you think you can turn into a werewolf?” What the fuck was Wilbur on about?
“A werewolf?” Tommy remembered his shitty costume, “I’m just wearing a costume Wilbur, Werewolves aren’t real.”
“But you are magic and smell like a wolf?”
“I live in a house that has dogs?” Tommy replied, voice raised higher in his confusion.
“But how did you see me? You would have had to be magical to see through my glamour and to even make it to this house?”
“I can’t be magic, I’m human!” He scrambled out.
“We can definitely rule that option out mate,” Tommy’s head swiveled to Phil, who had his hands up in a pacifying manner, “You wouldn’t have been able to step within 60 feet of this house if that were true.”
It had taken Tommy longer than he would have liked to admit for the three of them to calm him down so they could continue with the conversation.
“You hardly bat an eyelid at my ears and Phil’s wings!” Wilbur said incredulously.
“It’s Hallowe’en! I thought you guys were just really into it! Wait-” His head spun around to Phil, “Those are real?!” Phil nodded and as Tommy stared at Phil, the fact that he was sitting in a house with three supernatural creatures finally sank in.
Tommy shook his head before speaking. “You’re all mythical creatures. Sure, why did you bring me here? Why me?” Wilbur shifted in his seat.
“... You seemed lonely.”
“So it was pity.” He sneered, but Wilbur scoffed at Tommy’s words.
“As if I’d bring a random child back to my home. No, I enjoyed your company and humor and I knew they would as well.” Phil cleared his throat and Tommy’s head whipped around to look at him.
“And, well, Tommy, you have to understand, no ordinary human could have made it into the house. It’s magically impossible with the wards.”
“So what, I’m just built different?” Tommy said, disbelieving.
“Exactly.”
… What?
“...What?” He repeated out loud.
“You mightn’t be a werewolf, but you definitely have some supernatural blood in you.” That thought rattled around in Tommy’s brain for a moment before it sank in an inch.
“My parents… Were magic?”
“At least one of them.” Phil confirmed. Techno, who had stayed back all this time, stepped forward.
“Has anything weird ever happened around you that you couldn’t explain? Ever feel heightened reactions to anything, perhaps told you were overreacting to something that seemed obvious to you?” Tommy started shaking his head but stopped as he thought further.
Tommy did not like anyone touching his stuff.
But that was just a foster thing, right? He had such few things that it made sense that he kept what little he had close, and protected it as well as he could.
“I’m just a normal kid…” He voiced out loud while the others shared a look. Tommy was getting sick of those. Phil started again from a different angle.
“Do you have any items that you’ve had for a long time? Maybe you can’t even remember where they came from?”
“No, I don’t think I-” But as he pulled his arms around himself, he felt his bracelet against his wrist. He held out his arm in front of himself and stared.
“I’ve always had this, I hardly think about it anymore.”
“You’ve always worn this?” Tommy nodded.
“Could it be magical?”
“It could very well be. Can I take a look?” Tommy offered his arm, and Phil looked closer.
“Is it just me or is it really hard to focus on it?” Wilbur commented while shaking his head lightly, like he was trying to clear his mind.
“Yeah, looks like it has some serious illusion magic on it, it’s a wonder that it hasn’t spread to Tommy himself.”
“I’m just that unforgettable.” He piped in, the implications of the information about his bracelet not fully sinking in.
“Sure, child.”
“What"s the verdict?” Techno asked.
“Looks like a suppressor of some kind, hiding Tommy’s powers and traits. Things like this are not meant to be worn for long periods of time.” Phil looked worriedly at Tommy. “How long did you say you’ve been wearing it?”
“As long as I can remember.” Tommy murmured, “Is that bad?” Phil winced.
“Well, it’s not terrible .” Well, that was reassuring, Tommy thought sarcastically to himself.
“What’s it doing to me?” He asked out loud.
“Any abilities or extra features that you have naturally, take my ears, or Phil’s wings, for example, are being suppressed and hidden by this bracelet.”
“Abilities?”
“Yeah, like the ability to do magic.” Tommy blinked hard at that revelation.
“I can do magic?”
“Well, we don’t know that yet. The suppressor is working.”
“What are we waiting for? Get this thing off me.” Tommy gripped the slim gold bracelet and started tugging, but Phil gently took his hand away.
“Mate, hold on a second. We want you to make sure that you know the consequences of taking it off.”
“I take this off and I get magical powers. I see no downsides.”
“Tommy, it’s been on so long that there is bound to be some kind of backlash. It might be minimal, maybe you’ll just get ears like Wilbur, but if your supernatural form is full on like Techno’s, you might face a bit more.”
Tommy could end up like Techno? But Tommy liked the way he looked! He looked like himself and he didn’t want to change appearance completely. They could see Tommy’s apprehensive stare towards Techno. Techno hunkered down to meet Tommy’s eyes.
“Don’t worry about losing your appearance or anything like that. I know you’re worried about changing, but every supernatural has at least two forms, full and mundane. You’re still you now, you’re just stuck in your mundane form. This will just unlock your supernatural side and all that entails. You’ll still be you, just with access to more of yourself.”
“... What’s your mundane form like?” Tommy asked Techno faintly and Techno morphed right before his eyes, his supernatural traits disappearing, leaving a beefy, barefoot man with bright pink hair shuffling on the hardwood floor.
“My least favourite part, bare feet.” He lifted a foot and his very human face scrunched up, “You’d think magic might take care of a pair of shoes but no, I need to suffer.”
“Ohhh, is the Blade himself scared of walking around barefoot!” Techno stared balefully back at Wilbur but before he could retort Tommy blurted out, “And that didn’t hurt?” Techno’s expression softened as he turned back to Tommy.
“Nah, maybe a bit uncomfortable but not painful.” Tommy nodded before smiling crookedly back at Techno.
“Well, I hate to break it to you Techno, but pink isn’t exactly a ‘mundane’ colour.”
“Bruh, I didn’t choose this!”
“So Tommy, do you want to go ahead?” Phil interrupted. Tommy took a moment to think it over, but quickly came to a decision.
“A part of me was locked up against my will, I just want to be myself.” He murmured, nodding resolutely to himself, “Will it take long? Do I have to do anything?”
“I can take it off right now if you are sure. You won’t have to do anything and it should be pretty quick because I know it’s there now.”
Tommy gulped. “Do it.” and Phil carefully hooked a talon under the deceptively strong gold chain and just like that, it snapped.
There was silence in the room for a second and Tommy let his tense posture relax slightly when the moment grew longer with no visible result. A sense of disappointment started to sink in the longer the moment lasted. Were they wrong? Maybe Tommy was just a regular kid all along and they’ll kick him out. He was just starting to feel more comfortable around them. But then he felt something odd.
“Tommy?”
Tommy stared into the distance as he tried to put his finger on exactly what it was. He felt… warm.? Not that he didn’t before, but this felt like a peculiar bubbly heat rising within him.
“... Kid, are you okay?”
Tommy was distracted by the heat that was travelling up through him. His upper and lower back were now uncomfortably hot along with the crown of his head. It was steadily getting even hotter.
“Guys-” Tommy gritted out.
“What is it?” but Tommy couldn’t continue as he felt a pain in his knees, absently realising that it was from him falling down, the others having stopped him falling flat on his face. He heard yelling as the pain mounted, wanting to tell them to quiet down, only to realise it was himself screaming.
But this burning pain didn’t last for long. A quick burst and Tommy rag dolled in their arms, falling backward as a new, heavy weight pulled him back.
The warm bubbling sensation was back after the inferno, almost like an apology as it soothed the lingering pains away. He took a moment to savor the feeling as his senses kicked back in again before he cleared his throat.
“That was decidedly not poggers.” Tommy stated dryly before he tried to stand up, only to stagger backwards, the others helping him to his feet.
“Take it easy bud, those might take some getting used to.” Tommy, brain still a bit scrambled from that nightmarish experience, could only reply to Phil with one word.
“What?”
“Tommy, you have wings!” Wilbur said with a grin.
“... I have what?” They bring him over to a floor-length mirror at the entrance to the house and Tommy stared, dumbfounded at his reflection. Sure, Phil had mentioned that he might get some extra features, but it all felt so abstract when they were discussing it. Now it had happened and he seeing the obvious results. Tommy stood there, flummoxed.
The first thing that he could see were his wings.
His wings.
They weren’t like Phil’s, whose wings were as dark as night and feathered, his were bright red and scaled .
The scales weren’t just limited to his wings. No, they were present on his face and arms, and he had some scattered scales around his eyes and wrists. As he looked closer at his eyes, he noticed that while he kept his blue eye colour, thank God, his irises looked to be slit similar to a cat. He glanced around the rest of his form and took in the small horns on his head, almost completely obscured by his wild hair, and a swishing tail at his back. He looked back at his face and startled at the wide grin on his face, eyes blown wide.
There was something in him that felt settled. He was himself.
“Well, I don’t think we need to consult any books on what you are Tommy,” He made eye contact with Techno through the mirror, seeing the wry grin on his face as he continued, “You’re a dragon .”
“This is so cool!” Tommy exclaimed, a bright grin growing on his face!
“So if you’re a dragon, what’s your hoard?” Tommy was getting fed up with them using terms he didn’t recognise.
“Guys, I didn’t know anything about supernatural things like an hour ago. How am I meant to know what a hoard is?” He said, exasperated.
“Ah, sorry Tommy! Every dragon has items that are extremely precious to them, either monetary or sentimental in value called their hoard. They need a hoard to ground them.” Tommy’s mind is forcibly swung back to his things he keeps hidden on his person at all times. The things that he gets very heated over when messed with.
“... That makes a lot of things make sense in hindsight.”
“So you do have a hoard!” Wilbur stated delightedly, “Can we know what they are? Promise we won’t do anything with them you don’t want to do!”
“Wilbur!” Techno chided, “You can’t just ask that. You know how I get with gold.” Wilbur sent an apologetic look to Tommy.
“No, no, it’s fine. I can show you, just don’t laugh, and don’t touch.” His last few words came out almost as a growl. He reached into his jacket and pulled out a beat up iPod and a scruffy, stuffed cow.
“They were gifts.” Tommy stated softly.
“They look very… nice, Tommy. Good job on keeping them safe.” Phil said carefully and Tommy sat up proudly.
“I bit anyone who tried to take them.” He said with a proud grin and Wilbur burst out in laughter, Techno following with a more restrained huff of amusement.
“Of course you did, you little sharp toothed gremlin.”
“I’m a dragon, not a fucking gremlin,” Tommy snapped back with no heat.
“A lot of people wanted to take them from me. Is that something dragon related too Phil? Did I put some dragon magic on them so people want to steal them or some shit?”
“That’s not quite how that works. The only magic they have is related to you, and you only. It wouldn’t affect other people, magic or otherwise.” Phil replied gently. Tommy nodded.
“So most people are dicks, got it.”
“... Did people try to take your hoard often, Tommy?”
“Nearly every house I’ve been to.” Tommy admitted, “Trying to keep them got me kicked out of a lot of places, but they were all dicks, so I didn’t want to stay with them anyway. What kind of person takes a kid’s only possessions, a wrong un, that’s who.”
“You know mate, you can always stay with us.” Phil offered.
“... Really?” Tommy looked over at Wilbur, who nodded encouragingly and Techno, whose human face was just as unreadable to Tommy as his other, but who gave a hesitant thumbs up in response to Tommy’s questioning gaze.
“Of course, you’re a great kid from what I’ve seen, and a supernatural one at that. I know all of us would feel safer and happier if you stayed with us.” Phil grinned, “And of course, I could help you learn how to fly!” That made it hit home for Tommy. He was now a dragon and he could hardly go back to living in the foster homes now he knew. He wanted to learn more and what better place to do it than here, with other supernaturals! And, well, he liked them!
“Why didn’t you start with that Big Man! Of course I want to stay! Can we start the lessons now?!”
“Calm down, child, you’ve had wings for what? Five minutes and you’re already clambering to fall dramatically.”
“But Wilbur…” Tommy moaned, “I have wings now, it’d be a crime not to use them.”
“And it’d be a crime to fall and injure yourself, meaning that you would have to be bedridden for days, perhaps weeks on end.” Tommy pouted, Wilbur rolling his eyes at his dramatics.
“At any rate, we wouldn’t be able to fly tonight. It’s too dark.” Tommy looked out to see nothing but pitch dark outside, and against his wishes, he yawned widely.
“Awww is the child sleepy!” Wilbur teased.
“I’d like to see you change into a dragon and not be a little fatigued after, asshole!” Phil held up his hands in a calming motion.
“I think we’re all tired after this evening, so I believe this would be a good time to go to bed.” Right, time for Tommy to hit the hay, and by hay he means couch. He’ll just ask for a blanket and he’ll be golden. Tommy turned to Techno.
“If I could just get a blanket I’ll get out of your hair for the night.” Techno made a confused noise.
“But we have a spare bed?” Tommy blinked.
“Okay?”
“... Tommy, the spare bed’s for you to sleep in.”
“Oh, oh! Sweet! Lead the way then, Big T!” A bed for Tommy! This evening was just getting better and better!
“Right, so Techno can show you to your room for tonight and we can sort out flying lessons and all that in the morning. Sounds good?” Tommy nodded, something for future him to think about.
And as Tommy fell into his bed after wishing them all goodnight, he fell asleep almost immediately holding onto his tail, nestled in his new wings.
And if, after consulting with Tommy the next morning, Phil went with Wilbur to persuade Tommy’s foster family and social worker that he was best situated with them and that there was no need for future check ups? Well, they obviously weren’t doing a bang-up job beforehand, and who else could teach Tommy to fly?
Tommy had a home now, and if he had a few more things (people) that he considered important enough to be part of his hoard, well, he wasn’t fucking telling.
(They knew, and they loved Tommy just as much.)