Runaway

Chapter 4

Credits to Mental Kitten.
I'm so burnt out on work I forgot I had Wattpad and wrote oops.
Anyways here's this at fucking 3 AM :D
~

Tommy passed out some time after Phil left his bedroom, he didn't have a nightmare luckily. But he was annoyed by someone nudging him away after he finally got some rest.

So, he chose a smart option.

He threw a pillow at whoever woke him up. To hell if he got hit, all Tommy wanted was to sleep but even then he couldn't get at least an hours worth of rest.

"Watch it, gremlin." Wilbur hissed, throwing the pillow at Tommy more roughly.

Tommy ended up getting hit in the face with the pillow.

"Screw off." He muttered, staring up at Wilbur. "What do you want?" He yawned, sitting up properly and checking his phone.

"Foods ready."

That's all?

Tommy really had to resist the urge to yell profanities or insults at him. But he was generous and threw out a snarky remark.

Which now led to Wilbur bickering with him.

"My hair is fine, gremlin. I'm not the one with dusty hair!"

"I don't have shit swirls for hair!"

"Oh shut up, I'm not the obnoxious child who thinks I'm better than everyone."

Tommy faltered, the joyful bickering atmosphere turning into tense silence.

"Tommy-"

"Quiet."

"Oh come on, don't get mad over something like that. Of all things!"

Tommy stayed silent, taking interest in anything except Wilbur at the moment.

He's not him.

He wasn't the one who hurt you.

He could hurt you.

He did it before why wont he now?

Before?

"Make sure you come down to eat, Techno made spaghetti." Wilbur told him, quickly slipping out of Tommy's temporary bedroom before he could get a word in. Not like he would've anyway, but still, he could've.

Tommy sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. He would worry about what the voice meant later, he needed to ask Phil questions about his apparent 'abilities' he has. It was unbelievable to him, but still somehow made it make sense as to why this family was so abnormal compared to others.

He exaggerated it a bit, they seemed normal, just a little overly nice father and two angsty looking sons. Normal.

Shit, food. Right.

Tommy felt a bit of dread having to be seated with a family he barely knew. Or even eat with them, would they allow him to eat? He wouldn't be surprised if they didn't and just made him watch. Bastards.

I don't know them.

But you do.

"Shut up." He whispered, anger and confusion visible on his expression. That's the first time the voice said something that didn't invoke blood or hurting others. And it made him nervous, what did it mean?

"Tommy! Your foods gonna get cold idiot!" Wilbur yelled from downstairs.

Tommy winced at Wilbur's yelling, not liking loud noises and yelling. It made him panic, but he wouldn't show it. He didn't like being seen as weak and pathetic.