A Song Without Hope

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A/N: I wrote this in 2020 when I was in the fandom, I am no longer in the fandom but I have had this posted to AO3 for a while and figured I should post it here now. This is a one-shot that I had planned to have a continuation but never ended up writing it.

Also, this is about the characters, not the real people please keep that in mind. Also, Philza is not a good person in this :/

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Tommy had not spoken for the first few years of his life. Or at least that was what his family believed. Philza, already having had him see many physicians about his lack of voice. Every time they assured them he had nothing wrong with his vocal cords. They stated that he was taking to learning later than usual. After being told this by countless physicians, Phil gave up and instead focused on his other two boys. Honing Technoblade's swordwork and giving; Wilbur the means to further his interest in music.

In actuality, he could speak better than most other people. Having been taught Enchanting; by the voices plaguing his mind. He could read the ancient glyphs etched into the books his dad used for imbuing items with magic properties. Phil had always thought Tommy had taken to the books because of the interesting shapes of the letters. He chose to not think too much about it in the end. It had not even crossed his mind that Tommy might be reading it. He smiled it off and went back to focusing on his other sons.

Tommy had never said anything to them because he was worried. If he said anything about the voices, they might ship him off someplace. So he thought it best not to say anything at all. It was not his fault that his words got jammed in his throat. He used to try saying something to his dad but, soon he was not there. He got tired of Tommy's voicelessness and left. Showing; up only to train Techno or praise Wilbur for his artistic abilities. But there was no room for the quiet one. Who tried to fill a pair of shoes far too big for his young feet.

Tommy in, all his silence, had a passion for gardening. It was one of the only things he had in common with Techno. The two could spend hours at a time meticulously tending to the garden at the back of the house. Which is where he spent; a large majority of his day. Sitting; in the dirt, with Techno while Wilbur played a tune on his guitar. It was not long before it was only Tommy in the garden. Pulling at the weeds while Techno was off fighting in arenas and Wilbur was singing in the streets. Just because he could not scream for help did not mean he did not need it.

Tommy understood when he was being; abandoned. When he no longer could remember how his dad looked. When he felt the absence of the familiar smell of the forest, Techno brought into the house. When the house fell silent at night where Wilbur's music used to flow freely. Tommy understood when Chat had begun to turn sour at the mention of his family members. Wings sprouted from his back; no one to comfort and watch over him. When; he was forced to grow up at a moment's notice due to a fire breaking out. Leaving; him homeless in the cold and snow. Tommy understood that he was on his own now.

☙❁❧

His once playful Chat had become angry with time. They, constantly wailing out for retribution. Screaming; to spill the blood of his family for their wrongdoing. Wanting revenge for the young boy huddled against the frigid stone wall. The only source of warmth for his chilled body was the wings he had. The ones he had gotten from his father. It was the only thing he could clearly remember about him.

Alleyways were no place for a growing boy, fraught with dangers and illness. The cold night air was not helping his worrisome case. His wings were only doing so much to help. With how the temperature continues to steadily drop he would not last the night. Music drifted into the dark alleyway. Tommy perked up at the familiar tune. Nostalgia weighed heavily in the forefront of his mind. He swayed on his feet as he stood. Gazing out into the busied street. The music played loudly in the street for everyone to hear.