Do I Need It? (Am I Under Control?)

Welcome Home Theseus

A/N: Hey, this part is cut in half because... Wattpad...

"What the fuck!" Tommy yelled as he looked up at the looming building outside. He was the last to get out of the car, the shock of the sheer side of their mansion stopping him in his tracks. The Sleepy Bois Incorporated Estate was a towering three storey stone castle covered in overgrown ivy adding a mystical aura to the home. He looked around at each side and could not see an end to the manor: not left nor right. No back either.The old-fashioned carriage circle was huge alone but the grassy plains outside of the first gates seemed to go on for miles until he could see the forest where he knew their land continued for what appeared to be forever.

Tommy scrambled to his feet, silently praying to Prime as he stood up in hope that he did not look as stupid as he felt. Of course their house would be huge. They were vampires. "It's big, right?" Wilbur joked, knowing his house was probably the most extravagant building Tommy had ever seen. "Usually I block people before they get to that. I think the fish ate yours though." Tommy muttered. "What-" Wilbur began. "Yes it's fucking huge. And you guys live in that fucking penthouse instead?" Tommy asked, confused.

"Oh, just during formal events. We usually live here. We were actually planning on adding another wing but Dad says that's a bit overkill..." Wilbur replied. "Why'd you stay in L'manberg? It's a shit hole!" Wilbur fiddled with his fingers, a sudden nervous wave washing over his stone cold body. "We would have left earlier but we met you and-" Wilbur was cut off by an affectionate squeal from Tommy. He clutched his heart. "Aww, the scary vampires have a heart!"

While he joked, Tommy was definitely surprised to know how much his new family had done for him such as changing their entire plans to add him and the things that benefited him so much. Before, he could barely survive out of his shitty blood stand, selling litres of blood a day for chap. Now- Now he was living with his family in a fucking mansion.

Phil opened the door with a click of a rusty looking key that appeared to be older than the ancient vampire himself. He pushed, an action taking little effort for a supernaturally strong vampire and the doors opened. The double-doors flew open, allowing him to see indoors which in turn drastically added to his shock and excitement.

The Craft's had one of those cliche mansion entrances with a slight vampiric twist. Two twisting sets of stairs went down from the long balcony on the second floor where he could see various expensive looking pots, plants and paintings. The walls were a dark crimson with wooden boards as the top and bottom adding a refined, somehow more expensive and old-fashioned air to the building. A chandelier which spanned two floors hung down from the ceiling. Tommy was slightly scared it would fall on him.

After Tommy had taken it all in, they walked inside. There was the entrance to something directly in front of them, underneath the two twisting staircases as well as doors to their very left and very right which probably took them to other wings -wings- in their huge fucking mansion.

Phil lead the way through the house (as Wilbur and Techno's sire and Tommy's dad he held the power) and all the way up the left staircase. Tommy looked down from the balcony in horror. They were so high up! Perhaps they were used to it or maybe being a vampire meant heights were less scary if you'd survive the fall but either way, the Craft's all seemed ridiculously unphased.

Phil opened some doors which opened out into a corridor which lead to another which- Tommy soon lost track of where they were but he trusted that Phil probably knew where he was going, being an immortal vampire who'd probably lived there for centuries after all. They continued for a little bit until Phil stopped expectantly at the door and gestured at Tommy to do something. "You open doors, Tommy." Techno drawled. "Oh, sorry man..." He muttered.

Tommy did as instructed and opened the dark wooden door, curious as to what would be inside. "Woah..." He whispered. The room truly was amazing. The same red and wooden wall continued into the room which contained the largest four posted bed he'd ever seen. In general, actually. It was the largest bed he'd ever seen at all. "This is an Alaskan King, Tommy. Largest on the market." Phil explained. What the fuck. Phil's room was amazing.

Tommy stared in amazement at the huge windows showing off the stubbing unique private-forest view over the many wardrobes and drawers that filled the room. On each side of the bed were wooden side tables matching the colour of the wall and the furniture perfectly.

It all looked so calm, like something from a period drama TV show his mother used to watch. The kind of room Lord Cummington and Duke Bitchboy would paint together in. It also had a kind of chaotic energy as though that same Duke and Lord were plotting to kill their King in some plot. Much scheming had happened in here. Or perhaps Tommy was imagining it.

"Open one..." Wilbur suggested, pointing in the vague direction of the wardrobes. "Why? I don't want to go through Phil's old man clothes!" Tommy remarked, crossing his arms at his declaration as though nobody could make him do otherwise. "'Not mine!" Tommy walked over to one of the wardrobes, confused. He did so anyway, figuring that maybe there's be a gift in one of them? The Craft's were huge fans of gifts so it wasn't really out of character.

He pulled on the door, opening it. The wardrobe was filled to the brim with clothes, designer clothes at that. Wilbur's room would never be this neat and he was the only one that dressed in designer. "Who's this room for?" Tommy asked, "Do you live with anyone else?" Wilbur suddenly found something really funny while Phil placed an affectionate hand on his shoulder. "No mate, it's your room!" He explained. What.

"What?" Tommy asked, "No, why's my room so huge? This can't be right?" "Tommy, you're part of the family, you get a family room. You understand?" Tommy looked up at Techno, his heart filled with loving fluff. "I love you guys!" Tommy murmured. Wilbur smiled. "You'd better..."

The bonding moment was soon forgotten, room exploration being put at the forefront of everyone's mind. It appeared that upon further inspection, each of the wardrobes and chests of drawers were filled with clothes from one family member per unit. Some Techno's style, others Wilbur's, some Phil's style. He wasn't a huge fan of clothes but the Crafts clearly were considering they dressed him up so often like he was some kind of doll
He was their employee though, it was his job. Well, sort of. He was their legal property under the Human Blood Vendoring Act of 1898.

"Are you tired or can you continue the tour?" Phil asked kindly, concern evident in his soft face. "I'm not a pussy!" Tommy yelled. Phil responded with a concise "Good." Phil carried on to the room next door, this door looking considerably more used, an indicator of how long the Crafts had lived in the same place for.

"This is Will's room. He's obviously next door if you need him." Wilbur opened his door, eager to show his brother his room. They entered the room, revealing to Tommy the walls covered ceiling to floor with posters of thousands of different indie bands throughout the years, the posters at the bottom appearing yellowed and thin as though Wilbur just kept putting more and more on top of each other.

Some of the bands Tommy recognised, such as Lovejoy, the band Wilbur had been a part of until they split up three years before Tommy had ever met them. Others were memories lost to time and the minds of the vampires, many of whom still potentially listening to the ancient bands today. It was clear Wilbur wasn't as sentimental considering all of the piling up. Wilbur had always been an 'out of sight, out of mind' person.

On the floor, there were various guitars on stands with picks in a pot on Wilbur's desk where various crumpled dust-covered pieces of paper -song lyrics- were left to rot, discarded as waste. Tommy thought that anything Wilbur wrote would be beautiful. Wilbur thought otherwise, no matter what Tommy told him. It was a shame.

"Your room's so cool!" Tommy yelled. Wilbur nodded stiffly, pretending he couldn't see his father and brother's jealous looks in the corner of his eye. Tommy couldn't notice them anyway, why did it matter?