Archive of Our Own ^beta

Red.

Dark, dark red as far as the eye could see.

Well, actually, not really. Tommy was exaggerating. Either that, or his eyes were fucking filled with blood.

Oh, yeah. Blood.

He should probably get on that.

Tommy slowly reached up, his hand grazing the skin on his forehead. He pulled his hand away, bile rising in his throat. When he looked at his palm, he actually did vomit. There was so much fuckin’ blood and it was all gross and sticky! Eugh!

“To- Hermes?!”

Tommy looked up to see the blurry (but unmistakable) silhouette of Tubbo Underscore. Well, more accurately, Nuke the villain.

“Hey, big man! How are you doing on this fine day!”

Tubbo ran towards Tommy’s crouched form, kneeling down in front of him. His hands shook slightly, hovering just a few centimetres away from Tommy’s cheek.

“‘Fine day’?! Dude, w-what happened? Are you alright?”

Tommy grinned, though even he could tell it was pretty fucking weak.

Luckily, Tubbo just sighed. He carefully slid one arm around Tommy’s side and the other under his legs. Tubbo threw him onto his shoulder like the messenger was nothing more than a sack of potatoes. Bloody potatoes, though. Well, ketchup is red. And French fries are basically just sliced and sometimes spiced potatoes. Would that mean that Tommy was basically just a super handsome, hot, funny, wise and amazing French fry?

Tubbo carefully adjusted his grip on Tommy so as not to injure him any further and walked over to their shared apartment.

· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·

Tommy woke up, his head throbbing like a bitch.

“Wow, this hurts,” he groaned, sinking into the sofa.

His mouth was dry as fuck and his tongue was practically glued to the roof of his mouth. He felt completely miserable, which was a word he had learned from his brother Techno just yesterday! Wait, was it yesterday? How long was Tommy asleep?

He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and sat up. Oh, yeah, he was in their flat. Great.

He looked down, realising he had apparently been on their shared sofa the whole time. It was a weird, mustardy yellow that made Tommy feel a little bit sick any time he made the mistake of looking at it. He hated it, but Tubbo bought it before Tommy had gotten a job, so he had payed for it completely on his own and Tommy felt like a little bitch for complaining about it.

“Tom?”

Tommy looked around wildly, searching for the source of the voice.

“Tubs?” He called out, sitting up a little straighter but still staying firmly in his place on the sofa.

A hand reached up from underneath the couch and snapped it’s fingers in Tommy’s face.

“Hey, Tom. How’s it going? I know I’m pretty shitty at the whole… medical stuff or whatever, so I asked Techno to do it for me. Are you alright, man?”

“Meh.”

Tubbo glared at him. “Not givin’ me a lot to work with, king.”

Tommy laughed, doubling over. Soon, Tubbo’s glare softened as a grin spread across his own face and he dissolved into giggles on the floor next to Tommy. The familiarity of the situation was quite a very welcome comfort. Especially after the fucking craziness that had happened.

· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·

“Hey, Tubbo?”

The villain hummed, still sat on the ground by the couch.

“Could you turn around?”

Tubbo turned his head, shooting Tommy a concerned look over his shoulder. He set his phone down and turned around fully so that he was facing Tommy, kneeling on the ground in front of the sofa. “Yeah? What’s up, boss man?”

Tommy exhaled, dropping his head for a second before looking back down at Tubbo. The latter had always been shorter than Tommy, but he still thought it was quite sweet that Tubbo was always willing to meet his eyes on Tommy’s level. Even if it did mean having to sit on the floor a lot. Tubbo always said he didn’t mind, but it did tend to make Tommy feel little awkward sometimes.

“Nothin’ too bad, Tubs. I just… I realised I never really told you what the fuck happened.”

Tubbo tilted his head, silently prompting Tommy to keep going. “Should I make some hot cocoa for us?”

A small grin slowly creeped across Tommy’s face. God, he loved the boy. Even if he was a bitch. Bitch boy.

Tommy’s favourite bitch boy, really!

A few minutes later, Tubbo came back with the hot chocolate. He handed a snowman-shaped mug to Tommy - who was now sitting on the edge of the sofa, albeit quite awkwardly due to the bandages - and plopped down onto the carpeted floor with a small thud.

“So,” Tubbo started, his voice much quieter than Tommy was used to. It was fucking weird. “What happened, Tom?”

“Er… Jschlatt. Jschlatt happened.”

Tubbo’s awkward, reassuring smile fell with a speed that could rival Tommy’s own running, his eyes narrowed and flickered slightly. Blue-ish greened turned into bright, neon yellow, then back to green again.

“Ah.”

“Y-yeah. One of the heroes - forgot who, though - asked me to send him a message. Not really a nice one, though. And… uh…yeah. Fuckin’ mess, I tell you.”

Tommy heard a sharp intake of breath from underneath him. Before he could even look down to check what Tubbo was doing, his entire body was being smushed in a tight ass hug. A small gasp of shock was ripped out of Tommy’s mouth before he snapped back to his senses and wrapped his arms around Tubbo’s waist as tight as he could. Tommy buried his face in Tubbo’s shoulder and inhaled sharply. The mild, sweet scent of cinnamon, honey and something that smelled like battery acid burned in his lungs.

Tommy could feel Tubbo’s shoulders shake slightly.

“T-Tom, you had a fucking dagger in your side.” Tubbo hissed, his breath shaky against Tommy’s skin where Tubbo was pressing his face into Tommy’s scalp. Tubbo took a deep breath and pressed one hand firmly against the small of Tommy’s back, the other stroking his long blond hair. It wasn’t in its usual pigtails anymore. When had that happened? “I swear- I swear to every angel in a heaven I don’t believe exists, I’m gonna kill that motherfucker the next time I see him.”

Tommy laughed wetly, his arms subconsciously tightened around Tubbo but he didn’t seem to mind and Tommy needed the touch, so he didn’t lessen the pressure. “Tubs, he’s your father. I don’t expect you to fuckin’ kill him. ‘Specially not on my behalf!”

Tubbo just shook his head. His hands tightened in Tommy’s hair and he brushed his thumb across the thick bandages wrapped around Tommy’s head. He couldn’t remember getting stabbed in the head - as far as he was aware, his only injury was the stab wound in his side - but Tubbo had informed him that he hit his head on the wall.

“Shut. Up. I love you to hell and back, boss man. If anyone hurts you, and I don’t care who, I will kill them.”

“Why don’t you stick to dreaming about fucking up your father’s life, hey?”

Tubbo sighed, stroking up and down the blond’s back in a comforting pace. “Only for now, though, right?”

“Only for now.”

“Tubbo?”

“Hm?”

“I love you too, big man.”