You don't get to come back! || (has been re-wrote!)

picking up broken pieces

Beaten red converse slap against the concrete as the sun attacks Tommys face.

Blond hair bounces with ever step he takes as he pulls his flannel closer around him to protect him from the bitter morning air. Eret had called once again. Its no longer a shock when he does, just a hassle and a growing distaste and disappointment for his failure of a father.

Big smiles.
Two Blond. Two Brunette. One Black.
Too missing front teeth.
Mud covered faces.
A happy family.

Tearful eyes.
A mother who left.
A pair of twins who are in collage.
An alcoholic.
A teenager.

He missed his mom.

Soft blue eyes traced up to where the bar stood. A blond man and a slightly taller brunette stood with him. Well stood is an over statement it's as if the person was there for physical support.
The state of his father made him sick. The man looked a certain shade of green which made the younger wonder if the colour of the beer bottles were rubbing off on him (literally). His eyes which were still a muddy blue looked likely they were going to close at any moment, forcing the eldest to take longer blinks. He looked like a mess. A drunken dirty mess.

A small sigh left the chapped lips of the clearly tired teen.

"I'm sorry Tommy"
He looked up to the man and smiled. It was sad and pitiful but it was the best he could muster up at the moment.
"it's not your fault Eret"
She didn't say anything else as she handed Phil over, only offering a small smile which mirrored Tommy's in a way. There was nothing to be said between the two, Tommy didn't know them well enough to start a conversation and Eret had a job to do. No hard feelings.
Phil instantly fell onto of the smaller blond as they made their way down the path.

Their house wasn't far and it's was an easy enough walk but Tommy was reminded of the constant weight that was on his shoulders. The once mental weight quickly doubled due to the fact his "dad" had to be added into the equation.

An off white house came into view as Tommy dragged his father down the surprisingly clean path. The black door (which was once white and covered with 5 hand prints all of different colours and sizes) taunted the two blonds, as the youngest pushed it open and reluctantly kicked off his shoes as he placed Phil on the couch.

The room was eerie. Almost unlived in, it's certainly unloved.

Once loud conversation was now quiet snores and the soft smell of whatever herbal tea his mother made that morning was replaced with the smell of cigarettes and spilt beer. Just sitting there felt threatening. Tommy made his way up to his room after making sure Phil wouldn't choke in his sleep.

Smoke danced out of the window and into the fresh summer air. He would be out with his friends Tub.. oh.

"Just because your dads an cunt doesn't mean you have to be!"..."Youre exactly like him!"
The youngest took a few steps back at his best friends outburst. Blue eyes closing for a second wondering if he was in some sick and twisted nightmare.
"Bo that's a bit-"
The brunette instantly cut the taller one off,
"No! Ranboo why are you acting like u didn't agree with me saying this last night!"
Oh..as if the first part wasn't a punch to the gut he's only just gone and stabbed him right in the back. Ranboo quickly twisted the knife and pulled it out when he didn't argue with Tubbo further.
"I'm sorry."
The duo now looked at him. One looking him dead in the eyes and the other acting as if he would die if he looked him in the eyes,
"Goodbye Tommy. We can't be friends anymore."

He took another slightly longer and more exaggerated drag of the cigarette. He missed them but it was his fault so there's only really him to blame. The young blond holds the smoke in definitely longer than he is meant to which results in him coughing up the smoke as his eyes sting and his tongue goes dry. It causes a fuzzy feeling to rush through his body however. Tommy just sits there and wishes it would last forever.

Buzzing rang throughout he empty house.
Definitely not his phone.
His dads?
Next thing you know, his feet meet the floor as he stubs the cigarette bud out on his desk and he takes off downstairs.
Who's calling his dad?
"Hello?"
The blond waits for a response and just as he's about to hang up a voice cuts through over the small green phone.
"Hello, dad?"
The voice was unrecognisable. Why was this person calling his dad, dad? It made no sense but Tommy brought the phone up to his ear again and spoke.
"Uh, not sure you have the right number." A small pause happens before the voice cuts through again "oh? This is Phils phone correct?"" Okay.. so maybe they do have the right number.. But Phil only has three kids, unless he got busy. It's highly unlikely though. He still isn't over Kristen.

"Phils asleep. Who are you?"
"Oh, I'm Wilbur his son."

What? I'm sorry. What!? No way not his brother absolutely no way! What does he get out of calling his father, who just so happened to be so drunk that he passes out causing Tommy to pick up the phone!? The universe has to be fucking with him.

"I'm Tommy. His other son."

Wilbur also seemed taken aback by this because the other end of the phone fell into a dead silence. A brother who he hasn't spoken to in 8 years. Are they really brothers.?
"Hello Tommy. Where's dad?"
Wow. That's what he has to say after all that time? What a fucking prick.
"Passed out after he drank too much and I had to drag him home."

Silence once again filled the room.

"Oh. Well we were going to surprise you both but I guess we'll get an Uber."
Now. Tommy knew how Wilbur worked. He knew how Techno worked. He even remembers how his parents used to work before they both left, one physically and one emotionally. But right now he had absolutely no clue what this stranger on the other end of this stupid old shitty green phone was saying.

"We are on our way home Theseus"
Beep.