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As the sun seeped through the curtains of his room, the first thought Tommy had the morning he turned seventeen was that he would never be good enough.
This realisation wasn't new to Tommy, not when his best friends Tubbo and Ranboo are two overachievers and hard workers. Not when his brothers, Wilbur and Techno, have more talent and passion in their pinkie than he has in his entire body. Tommy had accepted he would never be as good as his brothers years ago - but he had hoped that if he manages to get by, keep his head just above the water, then he will be fine.
It has finally sunk in that Tommy does not know if he can survive like this for another year.
Seventeen is a weird age. A year older than sixteen, but not quite eighteen. A limbo of sorts, where Tommy feels wrong in his skin and can't help but envision his future as bleak and an endless train ride with no destination in sight. Every day, waking up feels like drowning with Tommy having to haul himself to shore even though all he wants is to succumb to the darkness of his room.
In the room to Tommy’s left, he could hear someone roll off the bed whilst the bathroom down the hallway creaked upon. Tommy could also hear Phil bustling around the kitchen today, just like every morning. His soft whistling used to be the only little life that remained in the house before a few days ago. His father worked his ass off for Wilbur, Techno and Tommy - Phil was the best dad ever . Techno repaid his hard work by graduating with flying colours and studying all the way in America. Meanwhile, Wilbur's passion and musical talent had landed his band with increasing gigs in the bustling city of London.
All that was left was freshly-turned seventeen-year-old Tommy, in his little local town, unsure if he could live like this for another year.
Tommy got up to get dressed for the day.
Tommy had always been a loud and angry child. Since his unapologetic twelve-year-old self stormed into the Watson household with his social worker trailing behind him, Tommy was unabashedly himself. Brash, loud, careless, and so, so angry. But over time, his family had worn him down - Phil’s murmured reassurance, Wilbur’s soft midnight music concerts, and Techno’s fond yet rough hair ruffles. Slowly, the anger simmered out of Tommy. The loudness remained, it was what made him Tommy after all, but it was different now. He was Tommy Watson, no longer Tommy Innit. His voice no longer came from a place of anguish and pain and loneliness, but out of joy, love, and trust.
I trust ed you, I trust you more than I have ever trusted before so please love me.
For the first time in his life, Tommy believed in unconditional love when he got adopted.
But of course, all good things never last. That's the process of growing up, innit?
If Tommy had to pinpoint a specific time when things began to spiral, he would probably say that when his two brothers left home, when Tommy was fifteen. Or maybe it had started way beforehand already, and he just doesn't want to acknowledge it. Maybe it had already begun when he and Wilbur’s late-night talks had dwindled. As his brother kept brushing him off because he was always too busy, another time Toms, I have to study or Not today, I have band practise, there was one night that Wilbur finally snapped at him. Yelling at him that,
‘Tommy, I don’t have time to hang out with you, okay? I’m busy enough as it is, trying to juggle everything. I don’t have enough time for you.’
Tommy felt something in him split apart that night. Even if Wilbur had apologised to him profusely later, explaining how he’s running short on fumes and spreading himself thin, Tommy can’t help but think something had fundamentally shifted.
Or, maybe it was when Techno had glared at him when Tommy barged into his room one night, flopping unceremoniously onto his bed. And instead of doing his usual exasperated yet fond huff, Techno had glared. His fingers tightened around his pencil, scrunching up his printed notes as Tommy watched him inhale deeply. While Wilbur and Tommy always surrounded each other with sounds and music and talks, Techno and Tommy could always comfortably relish in each other's silence.
Sometimes, Tommy could ramble on about whatever he did that day or what fun fact he had learnt from Tubbo, and Techno would be happy to listen. Sometimes, Techno would be content to tell him about his favourite Greek myths as Tommy listens attentively. Because not only was his brother’s voice always so soothing, his stories were also genuinely cool.
But, Techno had glared at him that night. He had told Tommy in a levelled tone to get out of his room, refusing to pay him an ounce of his attention. So Tommy left. He found Techno’s room locked more often after that.
So yeah, maybe things had started falling apart a lot earlier than the move-out, but Tommy would argue till his lips turn blue that ignorance is bliss. However, it was hard to remain ignorant when the Watson household turned quiet and empty when his brothers left. It was weird to not bounce his loudness or energy off someone, no one to share his exciting chatter with. Sure, Phil was still there, but it was different. Tommy knew that sending off his two eldest sons was a huge burden off Phil's shoulder, so his dad was happy to dive even deeper into his passion and work now that two of his birds had left the nest. More often than not, Tommy had dinner at home alone. Sometimes Tubbo and Ranboo would come over to keep him company, but the only proper moments Tommy had with Phil were in the mornings before school or whenever his dad had work off.
Sometimes Tommy thinks to himself that when Wilbur and Techno had moved out, it felt Phil had left with them as well.
But the one thing that never left throughout the years was Tommy’s desire to make Phil proud. Even when he found it hard to focus and remain still in class, and when mathematics formulas swirled into incomprehensible scribbles, Tommy tried so fucking hard to make his dad proud.
So when Tommy finally managed to drag his grades up two semesters after his brothers left, when for the first time ever all his grades were above a C, he had rushed to show off to Phil. He waited patiently, cooking dinner whilst leaving his report card in plain sight on the kitchen table. When Phil finally arrived home, a tired grimace decorating his face, Tommy hurriedly helped him sit down and all but shoved his results into his father’s hands.
‘Let’s try a little harder next time, hey? Maybe you can get your brothers to call and tutor you - I’m sure they wouldn't mind,’ Phil had said, a strained smile on his face while his eyes scanned nonchalantly over his marks. Tommy felt his pride and excitement seep out like a popped balloon and nodded robotically as Phil started rambling about his day at work. He pushed away his bowl of curry - he didn’t feel hungry anymore.
As Phil’s voice turned into background noise, Tommy strayed his gaze behind his dad to see the walls of trophies and awards lining the hallway of the front door.
‘Am I not good enough?’ Tommy wanted to ask. Do you ever regret adopting me?
Am I not worthy of your love anymore?
It started to sting a little more whenever Phil’s friends visited, and they would always marvel at the overflowing display of Techno and Wilbur’s accomplishments. Understandably, his dad would proudly puff up his chest and brag about his two sons.
‘Yes, he won that from a fencing competition in junior high. Did you know he’s in the states right now? Techno said his studies have been challenging but he’s always been so stubborn-’
Or, ‘Wilbur always had a theatrical flair in him, so I wasn’t surprised when he wanted to pursue his music. His gigs are doing so well, especially in London, such a competitive city-’
And when they finally, finally, notice the lanky teenager looming behind his father, Phil would pat his shoulder gently and introduce him as Tommy . ‘Tommy,’ you can see Sam and Foolish mouth his name as they skimmed over the displays. It wasn’t hard to see their eyes dim a little in brightness, their lighthearted smiles turn a little fake when they realised none of the awards belonged to Tommy.
Meanwhile, Tommy would hover awkwardly, staring at the family photos hidden deep behind the awards, collecting dust.
Phil used to clean them every day, but not anymore. Tommy wondered what changed.
So you can say it was a huge shock when his brothers arrived home a few days before his seventeenth birthday.
‘And how do you feel with Wilbur and Techno being home?’ Tubbo asked in earnest as they sat on the school field, his fingers sticky with cake cream after their short celebration for Tommy. Tommy liked it when Tubbo asked him direct questions, it was comforting to have straightforward questions where Tommy didn't have to sugar-coat anything. Ranboo remained silent beside Tommy as he pondered, gently gripping his hand in support. It was nice seeing them on his birthday, they’re the best parts of his life.
As Tommy considered Tubbo’s question, he realises that he doesn’t want to touch that pit of feelings at all. It had been confusing to adjust to two new presence at home, with Phil even cutting back his work hours. Tommy couldn’t remember when was the last time he saw his father so often at home and so carefree. Overwhelming was an understatement.
He gripped the dandelion next to him and blew the wisps towards his best friends’ faces as they sputtered in indignation.
‘Fuck you, you’re not my therapist’ Tommy joked, an obvious dismissal in which Ranboo displayed his displeasure very clearly on his face. Tommy elected to ignore the frown shot in his direction, continuing to play with the grass beneath his feet. He just wants to spend some time with his best friends, not worry about dysfunctional family issues and have an existential crisis.
They only had about ten more minutes before they headed home, so Tommy wanted to cherish the little time they had left for the day.
‘Look,’ Tubbo pointed at another dandelion, ‘homophobic plants!’
A moment of shocked silence echoed between the three before they all burst into cackles.
‘What the fuck, what the fuck,’ Tommy hacked out, trying to catch his breath before succumbing to laughter again.
‘Homophobic? Do you mean hydrophobic?’ Ranboo replied in between his giggles, genuine tears escaping his eyes.
Tubbo wasn’t any better as he fell into Tommy’s lap, sputtering out excuses of forgotten words and shitty teachers and God, Boo, English is a hard language, give me a break. Their laughter echoed through the empty school grounds like a clear bell. Tommy couldn't even remember what he was stressing over ten minutes ago, a fond smile stretching across his lips.
‘Call us if you need anything, okay?’ Tubbo gripped his face tightly, refusing to let Tommy break the eye contact as they got ready to leave. He can feel Ranboo’s rapid nodding behind him, lanky arms moving around to give him a back hug. Tommy closed his eyes and relished in their overwhelming love and warmth for someone like him. He doesn’t deserve them.
‘Okay, Tommy?’ Ranboo asked again when the silence dragged on.
‘Okay bossman,’ he promised. Tubbo hugged him as Ranboo tightened his arms behind him, a Tommy sandwich they affectionately called it. He bid them goodbye, waving ecstatically as they left school. His yells and shouts rang down the street as Tubbo and Ranboo eventually disappeared out of sight. Alone, Tommy went back into the school building and entered the room hidden at the end of the main corridor. Closing his eyes resorting to a long wait for Puffy, Tommy can’t help but miss his friends already.
Now, half an hour into the counselling session, Tommy wondered if Tubbo would actually be a better therapist than their school counsellor. Don’t get him wrong, Puffy was lovely and was one of the only teachers that tolerated him. However, it was very obvious that the school cut back costs on hiring a proper counsellor and just threw in Puffy to fill in the vacancy.
‘Did you try the stress-relieving activities I recommended you to do last time, Tommy? What about the journal and planner I asked you to start?’ she questioned him as he fidgeted uncomfortably. Tommy tried, he genuinely did. There was just something about the stillness and silence of meditating and yoga that unsettled him deeply to his bones. Tommy found it so difficult to articulate his feelings into words when often his mind moved so much faster than he could ever note down. The activities just never clicked.
Tommy expressed his frustration as such, feeling his face heat up as he watched a frown form on Ms Puffy’s face.
‘I understand you’re going through a tough time right now, but don’t you think this is a very normal thing children your age are going through?’ Puffy questioned.
That... was true, but it never occurred to Tommy before. Tubbo and Ranboo are struggling too, he can see it in their darkening eye bags and on the days when they are quieter and more fragile. Yet they were never like Tommy. Their school marks never tanked, they never got into fights with other kids, and they were always there to support Tommy.
‘Don’t you think if you tried a little harder, then you'd be just as great as your brothers? Just like how if you properly tried your stress-relieving exercises, maybe you might feel a bit better?’’
Oh.
‘You have to want to improve, Tommy. It feels like you’re at a stagnant point where you just aren’t trying hard enough to be better.’
Oh.
‘Try harder for me next time, okay?’
Oh.
Each sentence felt like a puncture to the heart, several waves of exhaustion washing over him as he arrived at a cold sense of tired acceptance. He hates those two words, try harder as if he hadn't been told that enough times. As if he hasn’t been trying the entire time. If only you tried harder or put in more effort, it’s like you don’t even care. But the truth is, Tommy cares and he always cares too much. Yet when he tries his best, it's just not good enough.
He smiled bitterly and answered,
“Of course.”
Tommy headed home with a heart heavier than before.
A few days ago, his dad threw open the front door and barged in with badly hidden excitement after work.
It felt like a fever dream. One minute, Phil was frantically talking his ear off at one of the rare dinners he was home, exclaiming something about a surprise visit, that quick, Tommy, we have to hurry to pick them up from the station! And when Tommy blinked next, he was in the car. He blinked again, and he was at the train station, the car in park as Phil stuck his hand outside of the door waving at two tall strangers.
At that point, Tommy still didn’t know what was going on.
Was it two of Phil’s colleagues that he hasn’t met before? The strangers walked towards them and-
Ah.
It wasn’t Phil’s colleagues. It was Techno and Wilbur.
Tommy couldn’t remember the car ride home, he was mechanically loading their luggage into their car, not registering what was happening. His mind was a haze as he sat in the front next to Phil, Wilbur’s voice filling the car ride accompanied with Techno’s grunts of agreements. They looked… different. They looked older, although they have only been away for two or so years. Wilbur had more smile lines and his hair was messier, a new air of ease around him as he recounted his and Techno's ride from London. Techno’s hair was long and his height even taller, that fucking giant. Secretly, Tommy was glad he kept the pink hair because it reminded him of how he used to help his older brother dye his hair. Tommy didn’t know how to feel at all that night, it was weird.
What was even weird was how they so easily slipped back into his life as if they were always there. They breathed life back into the house, fiddling through the cupboards and playing the big brother role as if they never stopped. Irrationally, it made him angry.
‘Fuck off,’ he spat out when Wilbur had sneaked up behind him to ruffle his hair. Or whenever Techno came close and brushed his fingers across Tommy’s shoulder, he will shoot him a glare. Phil didn’t notice, he was just happy his sons were home, but the twin brothers certainly did. Their smiles turned a bit forced, a little brittle, and their hands shook ever so slightly.
Good, Tommy thought, watching Wilbur and Techno turn away with glassy eyes and a tight smile.
Good, he thought, as his heart hurts a bit more. Tubbo always called him too stubborn for his own good.
Eventually, the anger ran out like it always does with his family around him. Soft, Ranboo would call him affectionately.
The next time Wilbur leaned in for a back hug, Tommy curled in his shoulders, tired and craving the warmth. Shaky fingers brushed away his blonde curls, a fragile grin blooming on his face as Wilbur noticeably tried to resist his urge to coo. Tommy glared at him, daring him to try to call him cute if he didn't want Tommy to bite his fingers off. And the next time Techno sat alone in the living room, thumbing through his books for college, Tommy hesitated for a second before plopping down on the opposite side of the couch. Scrolling through his phone, Tommy felt Techno stiffen in surprise, watching his lips twitch into a small smile out of the corner of Tommy’s eyes. A comfortable quiet floats over the two, interjected by Wilbur’s soft guitar notes from upstairs.
Cherish what you have when you still can, right? That Newton law shit, for every force, there is an equal and opposite reaction.
When would Tommy get warmth like this ever again? So even if it is selfish, even if he’s still angry, he holds to this gentleness just a bit tighter.
Selfish, selfish, he thinks to himself again tonight as he stumbles down the stairs.
Sick of moping around in his bed when he knows sleep will not come to him anytime soon, Tommy hops out of bed and slips downstairs. He’s seventeen now, a big man! The biggest man in the household, the only man. And big men deserve a near-midnight snack, so Tommy quietly walked across the floor, knowing which floorboard creaks and which doesn’t after living in the house for so long. He wasn’t expecting anyone awake - especially when Phil always slept so early, but he had stupidly forgotten that they are now two more temporary occupants within the household.
When Tommy arrived downstairs, his gaze directly met Techno and Wil’s, who just seemed as surprised to see him. The television was on, playing some Marvel film with bright CGI and booming, dramatic music. The screen illuminated their faces, casting a soft yellow glow in the otherwise dark room.
‘Didn’t expect to see you awake,’ Wilbur said, breaking the fragile silence. Posing his statement as a question, Tommy refused to answer and gave him a grunt of acknowledgement. Ignoring the pairs of prodding eyes, he entered the kitchen to grab his cup. God, Tommy isn't awake enough to deal with this shit. He needs some caffeine. Or water maybe, he does have school tomorrow after all.
‘Why are you awake?’ Techno asked, entering the kitchen. It was strangely reminiscent of what Wilbur had asked yesterday.
When Wilbur had barged into his room after dinner last night, guitar in one hand, he had grinned excitedly whilst Tommy tried to finish off his worksheets. Tommy had stared blearily at his brother, confused at the sudden interruption, before softly telling him,
‘Can we do this another night, I’m really tired.’
And Wilbur had faltered at that as if surprised at the dismissal.
‘What’s wrong?’ he had asked, and Tommy didn’t know how to reply. Or, Tommy didn’t know where to start. So he didn’t, remaining quiet before Wilbur got the hint and gently closed his bedroom door, encasing his room in darkness and silence again.
Tonight, however, it was just him and his other big, strong, smart brother standing barefoot in the kitchen at midnight. His pink-haired brother who sometimes comes off emotionless, but actually just buried his concerns deep behind his words and actions. Tommy can’t help but think that Techno’s questions echoed the same worry as Wilbur's did.
Fuck their twin telepathy shit.
Tommy’s grip on his cup tightened unconsciously at the trivial question, wondering how to respond. Why are you awake? Techno was home only for two weeks during his spring break before heading back to college an ocean away in the states. What’s wrong? His brothers would be gone in the blink of an eye, so what was the point of spilling his closely-held thoughts anyways? And yet, and yet, Tommy can’t help but think;
I want to die. His throat convulsed at the swallowed words.
I’m seventeen but I still feel so young. I’m scared I will feel like this forever, always chasing your shadows and not accomplishing anything in my life, Tommy wants to scream.
Phil is working so hard to get me into college but I don’t know how to tell him that I don't know what to do. I feel like a failure and I’m so scared that he regrets he ever adopted me.
I feel like my life is a constant race with no finish line - everyone is ahead of me and I can never keep up because I keep running out of breath. It feels like I'm drowning and all I can think about is giving up.
When Tommy was asked about his five-year career plan in class a few weeks ago, his mind came up blank. And isn’t that strange? Not a single inkling flowed through his mind. Would Tubbo and Ranboo still be around, or will they have moved on to bigger and greater things, leaving him in the dust? Would Phil still tell him he loved him, even when Tommy’s life amounts to nothing like his brothers?
Tommy wondered if he would still be here - alive and breathing - in five years, or if he would be buried six feet deep in the town’s only cemetery five blocks away. Forever stuck and eventually forgotten in this small, unknown town.
Yet, Tommy didn’t say anything of that. He gulped, looking away from his brother’s searching gaze. Trying again, he opened his mouth to say-
“I just… couldn’t sleep,” he answered, and it isn’t technically wrong. Perhaps there was once a time where Tommy wouldn’t have hesitated to open his heart to Techno or Wilbur. Techno; his soft yet firm brother who radiates nothing but support and comfort and safety. Wilbur; his brother that gives him hugs and cuddles and whispers nothing but sweet reassurance. Once upon a time, perhaps, but that time has passed. He had been away from his brothers long enough to stand on his own unsteady two feet.
Before Techno could grill him further, Wilbur’s head popped through the doorway, a neutral expression on his face. All three of them froze. Tommy watched Techno and Wilbur gaze at each other, a silent conversation going over his head. Before, Tommy would have marvelled at how his brothers could have a proper conversation with just their eyes and eyebrows. Now, it just seemed to irritate him and emphasised the distance between them. Something must have flashed across his face because Wilbur was looking back at him now. There was an unreadable question in his eyes - something so similar to the concern and worry and love that he had shown before that it made Tommy feel a bit sick.
‘Want to watch a movie?’ Wilbur asked, extending an olive branch.
Before Tommy could respond, Techno grabbed his empty hand and dragged him towards the couch. Letting out an ‘ oof ’ as he was roughly shoved down, Tommy watched indignantly as his brothers rearranged the blankets around him like some a nest. Tommy tried to speak again, wanting to say no thank you, I want to go back into my room, why the fuck do I want to watch a shitty movie. But, the blankets were warm. It was soft and comfortable, the television now lowered to a soothing hum, unlike his empty and cold bedroom.
‘Up? Wilbur asked, already getting ready to type up the film title on the remote now that both of them had sat on his sides. Something in Tommy’s stomach clenched, and he shook his head. Hugging his legs tight, Tommy closes his eyes and wonders when was the last time he had felt so warm. It feels selfish, but he wraps the blankets around him like a cocoon.
‘You don’t want to watch Up?’ Wilbur asked, his voice pitched higher in surprise. Tommy could also feel Techno’s raised eyebrows at him, even with his eyes closed. Fair enough, Tommy considered. It had been the only film that Tommy watched whenever it was his turn to pick for movie nights.
‘I don’t like the film anymore,’ he replied. It made him too sad afterwards, the film nothing but heart-wrenching when he watched it alone. It reminded him of happier times when the household had three brothers and a father, rather than strangers with the same last name. Peter Pan starts playing in the background - Tommy bitterly thought it was a fitting choice. Regardless, it was a good film.
“What changed?” his brothers whispered around him, sandwiching him between their broad shoulders. As if trying to protect him from the world.
And isn’t that the million-dollar question? What did change - he can name so many things that he will run out of fingers to count.
I can’t watch my favourite film anymore when all it reminds me of is what I once had and what I lost.
You guys rarely ever call, and I missed you so much but I doubt you ever missed me back.
Phil is working himself to death, and sometimes it seems like he almost forgets he still has another son existing in this house.
Tubbo is going to move far away, and so is Ranboo. They’re going to be doing great things like you guys are.
They’ll leave and not call anymore as you guys did.
But at the root of everything?
‘I did,’ Tommy replied, a vulnerable crack in his voice. He changed. Gone was the angry twelve-year-old, but gone was also the carefree fifteen-year-old that thought all Tommy needed was his family by his side. There was a time when he thought his brothers’ hugs could shield him from anything. He wishes he still has that naivety.
The clock strikes midnight, and a new day begins. Surrounded by strangers, Tommy turns seventeen and a day. Surrounded by his family, Tommy grows up a little more.