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Technoblade wasn’t expecting a text from Tommy as he finished up his homework for the afternoon. Given that they were two doors down, Tommy had always been quite comfortable just shouting at Technoblade through the walls.
But today was different. Tommy had left school in a bad mood. He wasn’t in meltdown or shutdown territory, but he wasn’t happy and everyone knew it. He hadn’t said a word on the ride home with Wilbur and Technoblade, no matter how much Wilbur had tried to coax him into a conversation, and he’d gone straight up to his room the moment they arrived home.
So the text was surprising, to say the least.
But its contents were another matter entirely.
Tommy: can you come help me
Urgency flooded Technoblade’s veins and before he realized it, he was up and heading towards the door.
As he hurried down the hall, he mentally cataloged where the others in the house were: Phil was in his office downstairs— if Technoblade called, he would hear it— and Wilbur was in the basement, playing guitar. That was probably for the best. When Tommy panicked, Wilbur tended to as well.
“Tommy?” Technoblade knocked on the door urgently. “Can I come in?”
Tommy made a vague noise of affirmation and Technoblade took it. He pushed open the door, expecting the worst.
He found Tommy on the floor, sitting cross-legged with his backpack open and papers strewn all around him.
“What’s wrong?” Technoblade demanded, taking in Tommy’s unmoving form in the center of the chaos. “Do I need to get Phil?”
Tommy looked up and Technoblade froze.
Tommy’s eyes were red and bloodshot, and his nose was pink, like he’d been crying. When he opened his mouth, Technoblade saw how he’d chewed his bottom lip raw.
“I don’t want Phil.” Tommy’s voice was hoarse and he was unusually quiet.
“Okay,” Technoblade said carefully. He moved closer, coming to sit on the floor too, his position a mirror of Tommy’s. “What’s wrong?”
“Can you help me with my homework?”
Technoblade blinked.
To be fair, Tommy looked awful, but the urgency of his message did not match up at all with the request he had.
“Okay,” Technoblade said, pinching his brow. “I know you and I have some difficulty with tones and shit, but when you send me an incredibly vague text that just says you need help, please give me more details so I don’t immediately assume the worst.”
Tommy had the decency to look abashed. “Sorry.”
Technoblade just sighed. “It’s fine. What did you need help with?”
“Um—” Tommy waved haphazardly at the mess in front of him. “All of it?” He sounded like he was trying to make a joke, but the rawness of his voice made it fall flat.
“All of it,” Technoblade repeated flatly. He wasn’t upset— he was just trying to understand. “What exactly is the problem with all of it?”
“It’s not the problem,” Tommy said, letting out a frustrated huff. “I am.”
Okay. Beep beep beep. Red flag.
“Who told you that?” Technoblade demanded.
Immediately, Tommy flushed. “No one,” he insisted.
Technoblade arched an eyebrow.
“No one,” Tommy repeated. “Really. It’s just…” He trailed off, looking conflicted.
“Tell me what you’re thinking,” Technolade instructed.
Tommy gestured harshly at his schoolwork. Some papers were crumbled and Technoblade could see red marks on most of them. “I want to do better, I really do, but I just don’t think I can.” He sounded halfway to tears again.
“Why not?” Technoblade asked. In the five or so months he’d known Tommy, he’d never found him to be someone who just gave up. He was a fighter, down to the last second. So to see him like this, so defeated by something as normal as schoolwork was alarming.
“I was trying to do better with organization and everything— Phil even bought me these folders! They’re all different colors for my classes!” Tommy pointed at the rainbow of sprawled out folders proudly. “But I forgot my homework at home again and my teacher got mad and told me I was too stupid to ever—”
“What?” Technoblade couldn’t help the fury that leaked into his voice.
Everything else had dropped away. He had only rage left. Someone— no, not someone. A teacher. Tommy’s teacher— had told his little brother he was stupid. Technoblade was going to fucking kill someone.
Unfortunately, Tommy took his anger the wrong way.
He shrunk back, cringing. “I didn’t mean to forget, I swear, but—”
“Stop it.”
Alarmingly, Tommy went silent without so much as a snappy comment.
“Deep breath,” Technoblade instructed, inhaling through his nose. Tommy followed suit.
“I’m not angry at you,” Technoblade clarified when he was sure that Tommy was breathing. “Okay?”
Tommy nodded silently. He still didn’t look quite certain.
Internally, Technoblade cursed. He was pretty sure he wasn’t the right person for this, but he would be damned if he let his little brother think for even a moment that he wasn’t the most incredible kid in the universe.
“Do you trust me?” Technoblade asked.
Tommy didn’t hesitate. He just nodded and the speed at which he did so made something in Technoblade’s heart twist. Five months ago, Tommy’s trust would have seemed unimaginable. But now Technoblade had it, completely and unequivocally.
“Then trust this: Your teacher was wrong. He doesn’t know you. I do, and I’m telling you, you’re not stupid.”
Tommy looked up then and Technoblade was alarmed to find that his eyes were damp. “Are you sure?”
Technoblade nodded stoically. “Positive.”
“Oh.” Tommy looked vaguely lost, like his entire world had been turned on its head. He squinted at Technoblade. “You don’t lie.” It wasn’t really a question, but Technoblade could hear Tommy’s meaning beneath it.
“No,” Technoblade agreed. “I don’t.”
Tommy hummed, looking like he was rolling that new piece of information around in his brain. As he did, he sank his teeth into his bottom lip and Technoblade winced as he watched Tommy chew absently at the already-raw skin.
“Where’s your necklace?” Technoblade asked, eyeying Tommy’s mouth. “You’re bleeding.”
Tommy’s brow crinkled slightly before his eyes cleared and he dropped his lip from between his teeth. “Ah,” he said, poking at his lip and coming back with bloody fingers. “Sorry.” He stretched to reach for his chewy necklace on his desk.
“Don’t apologize to me,” Technoblade said, ruffling Tommy’s hair as the kid gnawed on the silicone LEGO block. “Besides, you’re about to be real unhappy with me anyway.”
Tommy squinted at him. “How come?”
“‘Cause,” Technoblade said, raising his brow. “We need to tell Phil what happened with your teacher.”
Immediately, Tommy cringed. “Do we have to? I mean, I don’t want to cause problems and you know, my teacher was kinda right anyway—”
“What did we just talk about?” Technoblade asked flatly.
Tommy shrank slightly. “That I’m not stupid,” he said quietly.
“Right. And yes, we absolutely do need to tell Phil. Not because you’re causing problems, but because there is a problem, and he needs to know about it so that he can take care of you.”
Tommy still didn’t look convinced, but at least this time, he didn’t argue.
Technoblade let out a sigh. “Look, kid. I get it, all right? Usually, when you go to an adult with a problem, you end up worse off, right?”
Tommy nodded. Technoblade understood his hesitancy, but that didn’t mean he liked seeing him like that.
“You said you trusted me,” Technoblade said, a little gentler. “Can you trust me now?”
Tommy swallowed. “I guess,” he said softly.
Technoblade gave him a small smile, the corner of his mouth quirked up. “All right. Do you want me to be the one to tell Phil?” he offered. He knew Tommy had trouble voicing his problems directly and if it would help, Technoblade was more than willing to lay out the situation for their father.
But Tommy surprised him. “No,” the kid said, his gaze darting across the ground. “You’ll do it wrong.”
“I’ll do it wrong?” Technoblade repeated, his brow raised incredulously.
“You’ll make it sound worse than it is.”
“I’ll tell Phil exactly what you told me,” Technoblade said flatly, though he was half-amused. “But fine. Good. Tell him yourself.”
Tommy nodded resolutely. But then he glanced up at Technoblade again, twisting slightly in his spot. “But, uh… could you come with me?”
“Sure.” Technoblade was more than happy to be a silent supporter. Wilbur always made him do this too, whether he was ordering food at a restaurant, or admitting to Phil that he had a smoking problem. Technoblade had been there through it all. To do it for his youngest brother too was a privilege.
Technoblade stood and offered his hand out to Tommy. He took it and let Technoblade pull him to his feet.
They were silent as they headed down the stairs, but Technoblade could feel Tommy practically vibrating with nervous energy next to him. As they reached the door to Phil’s office, Technoblade stopped Tommy with a hand on his shoulders.
“You’re not going to be in trouble,” Technoblade reminded him. “Phil just wants to protect you.”
Tommy swallowed, but nodded.
Technoblade knocked on the door and cracked it open.
“Dad?”
Phil glanced up and the moment his eyes fell on Tommy and Technoblade in the doorway, he lit up. “Hey, guys.” Then he caught sight of Tommy’s bloodshot eyes and red cheeks. He sat up straight, glancing up at Technoblade, alarmed. “What’s wrong?”
“Tommy has something he needs to talk to you about. He’s not hurt or in trouble,” Technoblade added, knowing that— like himself— his father tended to jump to the worst conclusions. “He just has a bit of an issue that needs to be brought to your attention.”
Phil’s eyes were heavy with understanding and worry, but he motioned to the couch next to his desk. “Of course. You guys want to sit down?”
When Tommy didn’t move from the doorway, Technoblade took the initiative, guiding Tommy to sit down with him on the couch.
Phil turned his chair to face them, leaning forward so his elbows were planted on his knees.
“Tommy?” Phil’s eyes were soft as he regarded his youngest. “Do you want to tell me what’s going on?”
“No,” Tommy muttered, crossing his arms. “But Techno’s making me.” He was clearly trying to sound sullen, but Technoblade could hear where his voice trembled.
Phil gave him a little smile. “Do you think he might have a good reason for that?”
Tommy rolled his eyes. “It’s not that big a deal,” he said, coming in fierce once again. “So my teacher called me stupid— who cares?”
Phil’s brow shot up. “Sorry?”
Technoblade would be the first to admit that he wasn’t the best at reading tones, but he knew that Phil’s distinctively light voice was dangerous. When Phil was truly upset, he didn’t get louder. And right now, he was pissed.
“Your teacher called you stupid?” Phil asked, slowly and carefully.
Tommy nodded, squirming a bit in his seat.
“That exact word?”
Tommy flushed a bit then. “He said— he said I was too stupid to do anything right.”
Phil’s lips tightened marginally, but besides that, his expression was unreadable. He took a deep breath. “Okay. Thank you for telling me.”
Tommy just shrugged, his eyes glued to the back of one of the picture frames on Phil’s desk.
“Tommy.”
Tommy looked up, though his eyes still didn’t quite land on Phil.
Phil’s expression softened. “He’s wrong. You know that, right?”
Tommy swallowed and nodded. “Yeah. Techno hammered it home.”
Phil gave Technoblade a smile then, proud and genuine. Later, he mouthed, and Technoblade knew they’d be having another conversation after this one.
“And you’re okay?” Phil asked, his brow raised.
“Yeah,” Tommy repeated. He didn’t sound great, but he sounded better than he had earlier.
“You’re not in any trouble,” Phil reminded him. “I’m so grateful you had Technoblade to help and now I’m going to take it from here.” He turned slightly to jot something down on a notepad. “I’m going to make some calls and, just so you’re aware, it’s very likely that you’ll be transferred to another class. Is that okay?”
Tommy just shrugged. “‘S not like I have any friends in that one anyway.”
Technoblade winced at that and knew Phil was restraining himself from making the same expression.
“Oh, Toms. I have a feeling that once you’re in a better environment, you’re going to be making friends faster than you can keep up with.”
Tommy shrugged again. He didn’t look at all convinced.
“Can we watch a movie after dinner?” Technoblade asked suddenly, arching his brow at his father and gesturing subtly to the boy slumped dejectedly beside him.
Phil let out a breath of laughter. “Fine,” he said, holding up his hand to stave off Tommy’s cheer. “But only if it’s less than two hours.”
“Deal.” Technoblade jerked his thumb at the door and raised his brow at Tommy. “Go find one.”
Tommy was gone in an instant, already yelling for Wilbur that it was a movie night and Tommy was picking. Technoblade heard Wilbur’s shout of protest in the distance and had to suppress a laugh.
“You’re going to regret that later,” Phil said, amused.
“Probably,” Technoblade agreed.
Phil’s expression softened slightly, his eyes gentle as he regarded Technoblade. “Are you all right?”
“I want to pummel his fucking teacher.”
Phil snorted. “Don’t we all? Don’t worry though— I plan on making his career at L’Manberg High shorter than anticipated.”
“Good,” Technoblade said staunchly. “Also, I think it would benefit Tommy if one of us would go through a checklist with him in the morning before school. He keeps forgetting his homework.”
Phil nodded and jotted it down. “Will do. I think it’s time I had a talk with him about how I can support him academically. God knows, he’s smart. It’s just the organization he’s lacking.”
“Well, after Wilbur, I’m pretty sure there isn’t anyone you can’t get organized.”
Phil laughed and gestured at the door. “Get out of here. I have phone calls to make.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Technoblade said, rolling his eyes as he stood. “Enjoy being a PTA mom.”
Phil grinned menacingly. “Oh, I will.”
***
“I have two best friends!” Tommy declared as he burst through the front door two days later. Technoblade was following close behind.
“Yeah?” Phil said, grinning as he watched Tommy abandon his shoes, backpack, and jacket in the coatroom. Behind him, Technoblade picked up all of Tommy’s things and set them in the correct spot. “I take it you like your new class?”
“Mr. Found is fucking awesome,” Tommy stated fiercely. “And now Tubbo and Ranboo are my best friends.”
“That’s awesome, mate!” Phil said, ruffling his hair as Tommy ducked his head towards him. Tommy preened under the touch. “I’m so proud of you.”
Tommy blushed and grinned, his eyes scrunching up in happiness before he disappeared into the kitchen, on the prowl for a snack.
Technoblade was removing his own shoes when Phil approached him.
“Thank you, mate,” Phil said, giving him a tight, sideways hug, the way Phil knew he liked it. “You’re a good big brother.”
Technoblade gave a little shrug, though Phil could see the faint blush across the bridge of his nose. “‘S whatever.”
“It wasn’t to Tommy,” Phil reminded him. He gave him one last little squeeze before he let him go. “I love you.”
Technoblade patted Phil’s arm as he pulled away from him. “Love you too, I guess.”
Phil’s smile was blinding.