"The Case Of The Fire Inside."

I wannna see everything, lay it all out for me 21

Phil's got a child with a bruised cheek sitting on his couch and two frantic sons pacing around trying to figure out what to do. It's only two in the morning and he feels the need to pour himself a drink.

Instead he's making hot chocolate, stirring the milk and the powder together with a blank look, trying to process everything that's happened so far.

Waking up to a knock on the door was a shock, since no one ever came over, but Phil went to answer anyways. Seeing Tommy there, shoulders curled and looking smaller than ever, sent him reeling. Tommy had smiled at him so shakily, and Phil just wanted to pull him into a hug, to hold him and never let go.

But Tommy looked like one wrong move would shatter him, so instead Phil gently lead him inside, sitting him on the couch and asking if he needed anything. Tommy had just shrugged and said he wanted to talk to them all, and Phil couldn't deny him.

He thought about just shouting to wake up the boys, but his eyes were stuck on the bruise on Tommy's cheek and he's never felt so angry in his life. Suspecting abuse and seeing it were two separate things. He wants to walk over to that hour right now and demand to know why Dream even debated laying a hand on such a beautiful boy like Tommy.

How could anyone look at Tommy, see his joy and kindness, and want to hurt him like that? He was so angry that he felt it blazing through his veins. But that anger could wait. Tommy was staring at him with fearful calculating eyes that shifted towards the door and he knew he needed to leave before Tommy clocked the anger, so he told the boy to stay put and went upstairs himself, gently knocking on Wilbur's door first.

"Huh?" Wilbur said, blinking awake and squinting at him. "It's ass o'clock in the morning Phil, what do you want?"

"Tommy's here," Phil said, and he's never seen Wilbur shoot up faster.

"Tommy's what?" He said, slightly shrill.

"Sitting in our living room at the moment," Phil said. "He wants to talk to all of us. I was going to wake up Techno now."

"I'll go sit with him," Wilbur said, scrambling out of his bed and towards the door. Phil reached out, gently grabbing his arm.

"Wil, be gentle with him," Phil warned lowly. "He's not- well you'll see. Just be nice to him, be quiet, don't overload him with a bunch of questions and shit. I know you're excited and confused but he doesn't need to be stressed more than he is."

"Of course," Wilbur said, nodding slowly. "I'm always gentle."

"Will," Phil scolded lightly, but Wilbur just shook off his grip.

"I know how to deal with Tommy Phil," Wilbur sniffed. "Better than anyone else."

"I know," Phil said placatingly. "Just be careful okay? We don't know what happened."

Wilbur nodded, disappearing down the stairs without another word. Phil hears soft talking and he knows that they'll be fine. There's no one he trusts with Tommy more. He goes to Techno next.

"Techno?" Phil called out, Techno stirring in bed. "Techno wake up."

"Phil?" Techno said sleepily. "What's going on?"

"Tommy's here," Phil said, and Techno froze where he had half propped himself up in bed, his almost always perfect hair frizzy and out of place. "He's in the living room. He wants to talk to us."

Techno stares at him with blank eyes, barely even breathing. Phil wonders if he broke his son.

"Is he okay?" Techno finally asked, his voice barely above a hoarse whisper.

"No," Phil said honestly, because he couldn't bring himself to lie to his son, not about Tommy, even when the expression on Techno's face made his heart break.