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

Wilbur Craft's Guide To Gaslighting Humans

This chapter's a little short because it wouldn't behave and I've got 3 wip's.
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Tommy peered around the room in an attempt at finding something else to drag over, despite his room being almost devoid of any furniture.

He looked behind him, beaming with joy as he noticed the dresser placed innocently behind him and walked over to the dresser, tensing his muscles in anticipation of the exercise needed.

Tommy knocked on the top of the dresser, as if knocking in greeting. He frowned, it did seem quite heavy.

But if Tommy was anything, he wasn't a quitter.

He grunted as he dragged his huge wooden dresser through his room and towards the door, joining his two bedside tables, his desk and every single of those heavy lamps Phil insisted he have everywhere in the pile.

Once the dresser was put into place, Tommy stood back and allowed himself to admire the barrier he'd created, piled about a metre high. Sure, it looked a little precarious, but it was better than nothing. Any space between him and the Crafts was perfect, after all.

Tommy sighed to himself and walked over to his bed into which he immediately fell. He attempted to ignore the throbbing pain in his wrist and instead just wipe the sweat off of his red, exhausted face.

After a few moments of just lying there, Tommy found himself bored and so he stood up and started to pace about whilst formulating a plan.

He made sure to not utter a single word as he thought through everything. The Crafts might not know he knew the extent of what they were doing. They may consider him naïve.

Though, on second thought, Tommy had told them enough about his past and they'd probably looked into it more.

Creepy fuckers.

So maybe they were preparing?

Maybe they were planning on attacking him?

He squirmed at the thought. Tommy didn't want his family to hurt him. 24 hours ago, he'd loved them all and naively believed they loved him the same... Believed he was something more than a pet, or a commodity.

Tommy wished more than anything that he could trust them again: that he could relax into Techno's hold as Tommy listened to him read a book on mythology, that he could banter with Wilbur, curses being fired faster than light, that he could eat every single delicious breakfast Phil cooked him, that he could love his family as a brother and a son.

But they'd shattered any trust Tommy had once had for them. They'd ruined it, by feasting from Tommy like feral animals, uncaring of how he felt.

Behaving as though he was nothing more than prey to feast on...

It made Tommy want to tear up. He loved Wilbur, Techno and Philza with all of his human heart, but they were not human, they were monsters. Even if they didn't see him as an animal, they'd see him as lesser, as a lower being...

Tommy didn't want to cry, he wanted to be sick.

He snapped out of his thoughts, needing to find a plan.

To find an escape...

He was on the second floor, which would have been an easy place to land from. Tommy had been a street rat all his life: he was used to a little rough and tumble.

Except, this was the Crafts' house.

The ceilings were double the size of a normal ceiling, so in reality, it was more like four floors.

So, that ruled out jumping.

And that was the only way out of that room, after all.

Tommy thought for a moment, what was it Tubbo had told him? The four responses in danger? Oh, right, he realised. Fight, flight, fawn and freeze.

He obviously couldn't fight vampires, he couldn't run away, and that ruled out the main two...

"What the fuck is fawning? Flower shit?" Tommy questioned aloud. Tommy jumped back, adrenaline flooding through his aching body. He didn't mean to speak.