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“I want to go home,” Tommy whined. “I hate it here.”
“Tommy,” Phil sighed, setting down a box in the empty living room. “This is home now, okay? You need to give this place a chance.”
“No,” the young boy huffed. “I miss Tubbo.”
“I’m sure you’ll make lots of new friends at this school, bud.”
“No, I won’t! Tubbo was my only friend. I can’t replace him.”
“You can have other friends without replacing Tubbo. I have his dad’s phone number. You two can still call each other still.”
“But I want to see Tubbo!”
“Skype?” Phil suggested.
“Ew,” Tommy cringed. “You’re so old.”
Phil exhaled heavily, shaking his head. “Okay. Techno and I are going to keep unloading boxes. Why don’t you go pick out your room? You can start planning where you’re going to put all your things.”
Tommy wasn’t left with any room or time to argue. Phil walked out of the room before finishing his sentence.
Tommy stood in the empty room, an ache in his chest. He missed Tubbo. He missed home.
Deciding a distraction wouldn’t hurt, Tommy walked deeper into the house to claim his bedroom.
Tommy hated everything about the house. The yard was too big. They were too far from their neighbors. He couldn’t walk downtown anymore. He’d need Phil or Techno to drive him if he wanted to go anywhere. It was stupid. Everything was stupid. Tommy didn’t get why they had to move in the first place.
After scouting the house, Tommy settled on claiming the bedroom on the first floor. Techno and Phil could deal with needing to climb stairs every day to get to their rooms. That sounded like a not-Tommy problem.
It was an alright room. Nothing special. His old room at his old house was a lot better. The new one smelled weird.
So, Tommy plopped himself onto the hardwood floor and tried to imagine where he’d put his bed and everything else. Occasionally, his mind drifted to Tubbo– to his old life. But when those thoughts crept in, he refocused on interior decorating. Maybe they could take a trip to IKEA. Tommy liked hiding from Phil in the store.
“Tommy?” Techno called from somewhere in the house.
“What?” he shouted back, glaring at the half-open door, waiting for Techno to appear. It only took a few seconds for Techno to pinpoint which room he claimed.
Techno leaned on the door frame, staring at the room with his arms crossed. He nodded approvingly.
“I wanted this room, ya know,” he grunted, eyes finally landing on Tommy.
“Well, too bad,” Tommy shot back, sticking his tongue out. “Dad said I get first dibs,”
Techno chuckled. “I’ll give you ten dollars to take the room upstairs.”
Tommy hesitated. He could do a lot with ten dollars. But that’d also mean he had to climb the stairs every single day. That was a lot of work.
“Twenty, and you have to take me to the park this weekend,” Tommy negotiated.
“I’m hanging out with Niki this weekend. How about next weekend?”
Hmm. Tommy understood Techno was busy, but he really wanted to go to the park. The playground looked cool. Not as cool as his old park, but still.
“Fine. But only if you pay me twenty-five dollars and get me ice cream.”
“Bruh, you can buy your own ice cream with that money.”
Tommy crossed his arms and pointed his chin up. “Fine. I guess you don’t want this room that badly. I’ll tell Dad you’re trying to steal it from me.”
Techno rolled his eyes. “Whatever. I’ll give you twenty-five dollars and get you ice cream when we go to the park. Deal?”
Tommy glared at Techno, searching his face for any signs of deception. But he found none. Techno wouldn’t lie.
“Deal,” Tommy agreed, jumping to his feet. He had a new room to plan out.
♡
The new house got slightly more bearable once fully furnished. Tommy had all the things from his old home– just in a new formation and an unfamiliar room. But that didn’t mean he liked the house by any means. It was still stupid and dumb. Tommy made his opinion quite apparent every day.
Tommy trying to run away to go back home was Phil’s breaking point.
Tommy got grounded.
Now, he was sitting on his bedroom floor, mindlessly talking to his stuffed animals.
“I miss Tubbo,” he said bitterly. “Tubbo would be nice to me. Can you believe Dad? I just want to go back home. I hate it here. It’s crappy.”
The stuffed raccoon didn’t have anything to say.
“Maybe I should try getting Techno to take me home. Do you think he’d run away with me? No, you’re right. He likes it here for whatever reason. It must be nice to actually have friends that don’t live hours away. It’s not fair. Why do people like him? He’s so awkward. Why don’t I have friends? I’m more likable than him!”
Someone snorted.
Tommy froze, tightening his hold on the plushy. Techno left earlier in the morning, and Phil was in his office downstairs. Maybe someone broke into the house!
He looked around but didn’t see anyone.
“Hello?” he asked warily.
“Hi, little one,” a voice whispered behind Tommy.
The blonde boy yelped and whipped around at record speed. A weird man was sitting on Tommy’s carpet, staring at him with wide eyes. Messy brown hair flopped sideways on his head; a few curls fell over his eye.
“Wait,” the man hurriedly added.
“Who are you?!” Tommy demanded with a shaky voice. He scooted back until he bumped into the wall.
The man leaned far to one side and then to the other. Tommy followed his movements with his eyes.
“You can see me?”
“Of course, I can! Why are you here? Get out of my room!”
“You can see me!” the weirdo cheered. “How? Oh my god, this is so interesting.”
“Get out!” Tommy fussed. Did Phil invite someone over? No, the guy looked closer to Techno’s age. Was he one of Techno’s friends? But why would they be here when Techno wasn’t?
“Tommy, right?”
Tommy barely blinked and suddenly the man was inches away from him. Tommy pressed himself impossibly closer to the wall and kicked out a foot. It would’ve hit the man’s chest. But it never did.
His foot went right through the man’s chest.
“What?” Tommy muttered, eyes widening to twice their size. Both fear and confusion wrapped around his brain, desperately fighting for control. Did Tommy run or investigate?
“I’m Wilbur,” the brunette grinned. “I lived here before you!”
“What… are you?” Tommy managed to spit out. Curiosity got the better of him. He reached out and batted a hand at Wilbur’s shoulder. Like his foot, his hand slid right through the man’s body. The air was noticeably colder where Wilbur stood.
The fear took a backseat in Tommy’s mind. Tommy couldn’t touch this man, so he couldn’t touch Tommy either. They couldn’t hurt one another, so what was the worst that happened? Distantly, Tommy knew to be wary, but he was also a curious seven-year-old.
“I don’t really know,” Wilbur shrugged, watching Tommy swish his hand around in his stomach. “Something like a ghost, I guess.”
“You guess?”
“I’ve been called a lot of things. Ghost is probably the most kid-friendly.”
“Hey!” Tommy interjected, pulling his hand back. “I’m a big man! Not a kid!”
Wilbur raised an eyebrow skeptically. “How old are you?”
“Seven!” Tommy proclaimed proudly. “I’m massive!”
“Seven,” Wilbur repeated with thin lips. “Wow.”
“I bet you’re older than dust,” Tommy continued. “You’re probably older than Dad. And he’s so old! He created the dinosaurs, you know?”
“Did he?”
“Yeah. Are you going to die soon because you’re so old?”
Wilbur blinked.
“Tommy, I am dead.”
It was Tommy’s turn to stare stupidly, like a fish.
“What?”
“That’s how ghosts work, kid. I’m dead. Now I haunt this house. Or, well, I try. It hasn’t been going well considering no one’s been able to see me until now.”
“Why didn’t Dad tell me the house came with a ghost?” Tommy complained.
“It’s not exactly a good selling point.”
“What’s a selling point?”
Wilbur huffed dramatically. “Are you that dumb? It’s something that makes people want to buy the house more.”
“And so people wouldn’t want to buy the house if they knew you were here?”
“Exactly.”
Tommy made a disgusted face. “Yeah, that makes sense.”
“Hey! What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”
“You’re ugly,” Tommy easily explained. “Wait, what does fuck mean?”
“Tommy!” Wilbur hissed. “You can’t say that!”
“Why! You said it!”
“Because I’m older than you! Seven-year-olds can’t say things like that. You’ll get in trouble.”
“I’m already in trouble. And I’m a big man. I can say whatever I want.”
“No, you can not,” Wilbur chuckled. “Twitter would hate you.”
“What’s a Twitter?”
The ghost shut his eyes for a long time, taking deep breaths. Eventually, his eyes reopened and stared tiredly at Tommy. “I’ll tell you when you’re older,” he settled on.
Tommy waited a few seconds.
“I’m older!”
Wilbur groaned, flopping onto his back. Surprisingly, he didn’t phase straight through the floor. Tommy didn’t understand how that worked. “Why did I have to get stuck with a gremlin as the only person able to see me?”
“What’s a gremlin?”
“Shut up!”
♡
“Congrats!” Phil grinned, pulling Techno into a hug. “When’s your starting date?”
“Next week,” Techno replied, returning the hug. That was unusual.
“That’s so exciting. I’m proud of you, mate.”
“Thanks, Dad.”
They hugged a few moments longer before Techno pulled away. Phil was just grateful he got a hug at all. Techno never had been keen on too much physical contact.
“Baby’s first job,” Phil teased.
“Shut up, old man,” Techno scoffed.
Phil stared at his eldest son and felt nothing but pride. He went to convey that message, but before he could, his other son interrupted.
“DAD!” Tommy screeched from upstairs. Rapid footsteps pounded down the stairs and rushed into the living room. The blonde had a dopey grin and a wild look in his eyes. “Dad! Techno!”
“What’s up, Tom?” Phil hummed.
“Look!” Tommy stated, gesturing to the space next to him. Nothing was there.
Phil squinted and furrowed his eyebrows. Their coffee table? The edge of the couch?
“What am I looking at?”
“Him!” Tommy exclaimed, reemphasizing the spot he was pointing at. “Look at him!”
“Uh…” Phil and Techno exchanged confused glances. “Look at who?”
“Wilbur!” Tommy announced.
“Wilbur?” Phil repeated. He cleared his throat and shook his head. “Tommy, come here real quick.”
His youngest son happily obliged, hopping over to Phil all while glancing back at the empty spot in the living room.
Once Tommy was in arm’s reach, Phil pulled him onto the couch to sit next to him. He placed the back of his hand on Tommy’s forehead. He didn’t feel warm.
“Are you feeling okay, bud?”
“Dad, I’m fine!” Tommy sputtered, whacking the hand away. “I want you to meet Wilbur.”
Techno chuckled and stood up from the couch. “You have fun with that, Dad. I gotta go feed my dogs.”
“Tech, we don’t have any-”
And he left. Cool.
“Shut up!” Tommy snapped. Phil’s head shot down to his son, surprised at the random outburst. But Tommy’s glare was directed at a wall. “You’re a prick, you know that?”
“Tommy?” Phil asked quietly. He tested the boy’s temp again, pressing his hand against his cheeks and forehead. “Are you sure you’re feeling fine?”
Tommy’s expression immediately softened as he looked up at his dad. Somewhere in those baby blue eyes, they held sadness and hurt. Why?
“I wanted you to meet Wilbur,” he pouted.
“Who’s Wilbur?” Phil gently pried, confused but trying to get to the bottom of things.
“He’s my…” Tommy stopped to glance out at the room. His eyes returned to Phil seconds later. “He’s my friend.”
“Oh, okay,” Phil sighed, relieved. Tommy just had an imaginary friend. He wasn’t sick and hallucinating. All Phil needed was to get Tommy some real friends. There had to be some sort of clubs he could convince Tommy to join. That’d be a good way to meet people.
“Yeah! He’s fun.”
“Is he?” Phil nodded along, pulling Tommy into a side hug. The boy happily leaned into the affection, continuing his talk.
“Yeah. I think you’d get along. That’s why I wanted you two to meet.”
“Hm, that’s kind of you. What’s Wilbur like?”
“Dumb,” Tommy giggled. He shot up suddenly, pulling out of the hug. “You are! No, you can’t- that’s just a lie! You are the dumbest person alive… oh, wait. No, Wilbur, I’m sorry! I take it back! I didn’t mean it!”
Yeah. Tommy needed to get some new friends sooner rather than later. But for now, Phil would just put up with it and play along. Tommy would grow out of it eventually.
♡
The past two months had been the most entertaining of Wilbur’s life. The little gremlin who Wilbur initially hated, turned out to be quite endearing. And it was nice to have someone to talk to after being alone for so long. But things had been pretty quiet recently.
And Wilbur had an idea to change that.
“Tommy! Tommy! Tommy!” Wilbur repeated, materializing in the blonde’s bedroom. He was laying in bed, drawing in a notebook. Lazily, he turned his head to glare at the ghost.
“What do you want?” he asked with a yawn.
“I want to teach you big man words.”
The sound of a pencil scratching against paper stopped. Tommy quirked an eyebrow.
“Go on.”
“Remember when we first met? I said fuck?”
Tommy perked up at that, sitting up and closing the notebook. Good. He was hooked.
“Yeah?”
“I’m going to teach you how to swear, Tommy. You’re going to become a much bigger man after today.”
“Keep talking.”
Wilbur grinned. This was going to be great.
“Well, let’s start with fuck. It’s a very universal and convenient swear. If you like, stub your toe, you can shout ‘Fuck!’ Or if you just experience any sort of emotion that you don’t know how to put into words, go ‘fuuuuuuck.’ Try it.”
“Fuck?” Tommy attempted.
“Nooooo! You need to put your heart into it. Pretend I just told you bad news. Or no, pretend Phil grounded you again. How do you respond?”
“Fuuuuck,” Tommy tried.
“Yes! Perfect!” Wilbur praised. His grin grew by the second. “Now, you can add ‘fucking’ to emphasize a point. Like, ‘this is a fucking good piece of cake!’ Or, ‘that’s fucking bad.’ ‘Don’t fucking do that!’ ‘Are you fucking kidding me?’ ‘You’re fucking cool.’ Got it?”
“I think so?” Tommy thought for a few moments, figuring out a sentence. “You’re a fucking idiot.”
Wilbur cackled, doubling over with laughter. Yes! That was perfect. Oh, Wilbur needed this. Why didn’t he do it sooner?
Tommy smiled, pleased at making Wilbur laugh.
“You’re a natural at this,” Wilbur managed to get out between laughs. He wiped a tear from his eye. God, this was gold. “Keep going.”
“Um, I, uh, I don’t want to fucking go to school next month.”
Wilbur howled with laughter, collapsing onto the bed.
“Is it that fucking funny?”
If Wilbur needed to breathe, he would’ve been screwed. Luckily, he was dead!
“Fuck,” Wilbur laughed, staring fondly at Tommy. Best decision ever. “I’m so smart.”
“Teach me more fucking words!”
“Wait, wait, wait,” Wilbur panted, slowly coming back around. “You’re going to love this next part. Fuck can be used as an insult.”
Tommy gasped and lit up.
“How?!”
“Repeat after me: motherfucker!”
“Motherfucker!”
And Wilbur delved into yet another laughing fit.
“You’re doing amazing. You were born to swear, Tommy.”
“Keep going, motherfucker! Teach me more!”
Wilbur struggled to keep his composure together. Who would’ve thought he’d get so much enjoyment out of teaching a kid to swear? It was oddly satisfying.
“Fuck you.”
“Fuck you,” Tommy parroted eagerly.
“Perfect. You got it. Um, son of a fuck!”
“Son of a fuck,” Tommy tested. “Fuck you, you fucking motherfucker son of a fuck!”
Wilbur lost it completely. And Wilbur dying of laughter only made Tommy start giggling. Soon, the room was just Wilbur and Tommy laughing like school girls. Occasionally, Tommy would throw in a random “fuck” and they’d be right back to square one.
It took a solid five minutes before they were back to being able to get out full sentences.
“Okay, okay.” Wilbur wiped his eyes. “The next word is shit.”
“Shit?”
“Shit,” Wilbur confirmed, with a shit-eating grin.
♡
Techno walked in the front door, having finally gotten home after a shift at work.
“Dad, I’m home,” he announced while kicking off his shoes.
“Technoblade Watson.”
Oh no. Full names.
“Dad?” Techno replied wearily, following the voice to the kitchen. Phil was leaning against the counter, arms crossed.
“Sit down,” he said coldly, tipping his head to the kitchen table. “We need to talk.”
Oh no. Oh no. Oh no. What did he do? He’d only been working and playing video games recently. He hadn’t done anything illegal in at least a month. And Phil wouldn’t have found out about that. He covered his tracks thoroughly.
Slowly, Techno lowered himself into the wooden chair.
“Well?” Phil prompted.
What did he expect Techno to say?!
“Well, what?” Techno dared to reply. Phil’s expression hardened. Uh oh.
“Technoblade, Tommy was talking to me earlier.”
Okay? Techno hadn’t been overly involved with Tommy recently. He’d been at work a lot. What did Tommy have to do with Techno getting in trouble? Techno didn’t take any of his things or wrong the kid in any way.
“You want to know what he said to me?”
Techno half shrugged, half nodded.
“He said, and I quote, ‘Dad, you’re really fucking good at cooking shit, bitch.’ End quote.”
Techno’s jaw dropped. He almost laughed, but Phil’s stern tone said this wasn’t meant to be funny.
“He said what?” Techno asked for clarification. Phil didn’t repeat the sentence.
“So, naturally, I asked him who taught him those words. What do you think he said?”
Techno shrugged again. He tried to picture Tommy swearing, but it didn’t seem right. The blonde kid was so carefree and naive. The only bad words he knew were stupid, ugly, and heck.
“‘My brother,’” Phil quoted. “His brother taught him those words. Care to explain, Technoblade?”
Wait, wait, what?? No, no, no, that just wasn’t true. Tommy was spreading lies and slander. The two barely exchanged more than a few sentences a day. Techno certainly hadn’t sat down and taught the kid a bunch of swears.
And Techno didn’t even swear to begin with!
“Heh?!”
♡
Wilbur sat on the kitchen counter, dying of laughter while watching the scene unfold. Or, well, not dying of laughter…