#phil don't look or at least don't be a narc

[funkylittlebats]

Shout out to @d1pandp1p on twitter for being an absolute icon and sharing the patreon link for the Dan and Phil ep of Shut Up I'm Talking with everone o7

(Link reposted w/ permission)

[kira-anon-uwu]

Blossom in ribcage, until their backs break [ 1 ]

Coming out Swinging

Spiderinnit fic

Main post

~-~

          "Tommy, get up! We're going to be late!"

He sat up with a tired groan, throwing his pillow at his brother. "You mean you're going to be late; I don't have to be there this early."

"You do if you don't want to take the bus."

"Well who fucking said that you had to be in this early?"

"The principal, and if you want to keep living here you'll make sure I'm on time."

"You're a grown man, it isn't my job to help you make it to work on time."

"You have fifteen minutes, or I'm leaving you here and personally handing you your late slip when you finally get there."

"I'll just stay home."

"I'll tell Sam to bar you from that fieldtrip you have coming up if you do that."

That got Tommy out of bed, and he scowled at Wilbur the entire time. "Fuck off, don't you dare."

"Then you better not skip school."

"I've been looking forward to that trip for ages, I saved up my own fucking money for-"

"Holy shit, calm down. I wouldn't actually do that to you, you know that."

"I'm- Yeah, yeah sorry. Still not fully used to living with you over-"

"I know, it's alright. Get ready quickly, and we should still have some time for me to run through a drive-thru to grab us some breakfast on the way to the school, ok?"

"Damn, you'll run through it? Are everyone's grades that bad?"

"You know what I meant,", Wilbur said with an amused exhale from his nose, "Ten minutes, alright? I'm going to go warm up the car."

"No, leave it cold; wakes a man up better than coffee."

"If I don't let it warm up, it won't be running. Don't forget to put the shit you were working on last night in your bag, I can't get you any more of an extension on that now that we're done unpacking."

"Yeah, yeah,", Tommy rolled his eyes, searching his floor for some jeans that were clean enough he could get away with wearing them again.

Realistically, he'd still be getting up around this time if he didn't go in when Wilbur did, since the L'Manberg busses ran like shit on a good day, but he refused to acknowledge that since he hated to admit that his brother was right about anything. Except having him move out to live with him, that was a good idea; the only one the man ever had, really.

How he was affording a two bedroom flat on a teacher's salary was beyond him, but Tommy didn't really question that when it meant he could move out from Phil's house.

          Tommy remembered to stick his overdue school work into his bag before heading out, it was the backpack he ended up forgetting. It was easy enough to run back up four flights of stairs to grab it, at least, and he tried his best to hide how hard he was panting as he got to the car.

"Don't fucking pass out, jesus christ."

"Sorry, nearly forgot something,", Tommy breathed out, leaning the passenger side seat back as far as possible so he could lay down.

"You remembered to lock the door, right?"

"Probably."

"Tommy."

"Yes, I locked it. My shit's in there too, I'm not about to leave it open for someone to come in and take things."

"Just wanted to be sure,", Wilbur sighed, waiting for a break in the morning traffic to pull out of the parking spot, "Buckle your seatbelt, I don't feel like getting a ticket today."

Tommy muttered out a string of swears as he sat up to follow the demand. "Y'know, you were a lot more fun before you went off to university to become a narc."

"I'm not a fucking narc, how dare you."

"You are in fact a narc, snitch, and square now that you are a teacher."

"I will fail you."

"That's the only reason you wanted me in your class, so you can threaten me with my grades."

"I have done no such thing,", Wilbur chuckled, "Figure out what you want from Dunkin."

"Same shit as always."

"Wanted to make sure you weren't changing it up any."

Tommy set his arms behind his head with a sigh. "It's nice to have some things stay the same. The decent aspects of shit, at least."

"Listen, Tommy, I know alot of this has been hard-"

"We're not having this talk before school, I'm not in the fucking mood for it."

"No, I know, I'm just- I'm here for you when you are ready to talk, I want to make sure you know that."

"... Yeah, I know."

Wilbur gave him a reassuring smile through the rearview mirror, reaching over to ruffle his hair without taking his eyes off of the road.

"Hey- Fucking stop that! I brushed it this morning!"

"Oh, good, then I should still be able to find the brush stuck in there."

"It's about to be stuck up your ass."

"Why would you waste a perfectly good weapon like that?"

          A failed attempt to crash the car and trip through the Dunkin Donuts drive-thru later, and they arrived at the school. Tommy took his tea and lukewarm bagel sandwich to the cafeteria to wait for his friends, sitting in the corner of the nearly empty room and watching as other students started showing up.

People left him alone for the most part by this point, realizing that he wasn't very fun to bully and kissing his ass wasn't worth it since he couldn't get Wilbur to change anyone's grades, so he was alone at his table until Tubbo eventually got there.

The short boy came in completely bundled up in a stupid looking coat and scarf, removing them as he sat down. "Holy shit, it's awful out there."

"It isn't that bad,", Tommy rolled his eyes, taking a sip of his tea.

He let out an offended squawk when Tubbo took it from him, laughing when the short boy immediately spit it back out.

"What the fuck is that?! Did you stick some dirt in hot water?"

"No, it's tea,", he snatched the cup back, "Not my fault you've got weak taste buds."

"I think I preferred it when you were in here with black coffee, at least that just tasted like bean water."

"Coffee is bean water."

"You're supposed to add sugar and shit to it."

"Tubbo, I haven't got enough money for the coffee that comes from shit, and I'm certainly not going to be adding my own."

"You will be boiled."

"No, that's what you do with the water, man."

"I will become the modern day Emperor Nero. Including rising to power at age sixteen."

"Well you're off to a great start, because you might as well be speaking to me in Roman when you say shit like that."

"The Romans used Latin. Or Greek, sometimes."

"Tubbo,", Tommy let out an annoyed whine, "It's too early for you to be teaching me shit. It's bad enough I've got to listen to Wil practicing his lesson plan at home, give my brain a fucking break."

"Saying that implies it ever gets any use."

"I beg your fucking pardon?"

"Then beg."

"Yo, who's begging?", Ranboo asked as they finally got to the table, a muffin that'd been acquired in the breakfast line in their hand.

"Me, for some fucking peace and quiet,", Tommy sighed, putting his head down on the table. Tubbo started poking him repeatedly in the arm, followed by Ranboo who took the other side.

          The day was very thankfully mundane after that, the only thing of note being his math teacher refusing to take his late work despite him having a note from the principal saying he had a pass on it. The asshole told him that 'moving house isn't a real reason, it's an excuse for him to be lazy'.

Tommy made a mental note to figure out which car belonged to that dickhead in the teacher's lot, leaving his, thankfully, last class of the day to check in with Wilbur before he headed off with his friends. "I'm going to Tubbo's for a while."

"Be careful, and don't take the Sixty-Two bus; route's fucked from some of the Ramulus shit."

"Right, we'll be taking the subway."

"Do you need fare?"

"Paying for the fare, that's funny."

"Tommy,", Wilbur sighed, looking up from his desk, "Don't admit to committing crimes like that in school."

"I've seen at least three teachers do the same shit, only tourists and dumbasses pay for the subway; the rest of us hop over it."

"I always pay when I use the subway, that's how the city makes the money to keep up with them."

They made silent eye contact for a long moment before Tommy turned on his heel and started walking away. "... Well, great talk. I should be home by supper, but I'll let you know if we get food anywhere."

"Bye, if you do anything illegal, don't get caught at least,", Wilbur sighed again, raising his hand to wave.  

And the rest of the week after that blended together for the most part; every day basically the same leading up to his fieldtrip on Friday.

His favorite teacher, Sam, had somehow managed to get a fieldtrip set up to go to Ewe Labs, and was bringing thirty students to get a tour of the place. Tommy might not have particularly enjoyed going to school, but his Zoology class was the one he looked forward to the most. He had no idea how Sam had managed to get the tour set up, since Ewe Labs were notoriously hard to get into, but he was excited as all hell for it and had been since it'd been brought up in the first place.

The only way the school was going to let it happen was if the selected students paid for it, but that hadn't been an issue since Tommy was able to 'borrow' some money from various sources in the city.

Which was completely moral in his opinion, since he was stealing from the people running mascot suit scams downtown. They made bank by forcing people to pay them for pictures they didn't even want to take, he got money by stealing their wallets and throwing away their IDs and photos of their children; nature is healing, or something. 

          Wilbur dropped him off earlier than usual so he could get into the group, giving him a pat on the back and a thumbs up before going to his own classroom to get his lesson materials ready for the day. He was getting ready to start his unit on Hamlet, and Tommy was more than alright with missing as much of that as he physically could.

Ignoring how much of it he'd have to hear at home, anyways, that part was inescapable.

Sam took attendance as seven-thirty rolled around, getting everyone onto the bus that'd been rented for the day.

"Ok, so here's what we're doing,", Sam said as he stood at the front, "When we get there, their head of security is going to give you guys all of the rules, and you're gonna listen to him. They're being incredibly generous letting us go in for a tour, so we need to be polite and follow those rules so we can do more stuff like this. Does everyone understand that?"

Almost everyone gave a positive response, and Sam cleared his throat.

"Tommy, do you understand what we're gonna be doing?"

"Why the fuck are you calling me out-", Tommy started complaining, with Tubbo smacking him in the arm, "Ow- Yeah, I've got it; we're going to be told not to touch anything, and then they'll show us the cool shit."

"Right, thank you. And watch the language."

"'Watch the'-"

"We're still at the school."

"Sorry, please allow me to stay on the trip."

"You get three swears while we're there, any more and you get to wait on the bus."

He folded his arms as the rest of the bus laughed at him, sinking in his seat. "Fu- Fine, whatever. I'll just have to make them count, then."

Sam told the driver they were ready to go and sat, with the trip to Ewe being taken up mostly by the teacher and driver telling people to stay in their seats and stop throwing stuff.

They were let out right in front of the main building for Ewe Labs, a tall white monolith of a skyscraper that was a staple of the L'Manberg skyline. The front proudly displayed the name, along with it's tagline; Experiment With Everything.

There were all sorts of people filing in and out of the place, all of them ranging from businessmen to what were clearly interns being sent on coffee runs that probably weren't getting paid.

There was also some short man that was walking directly toward their group with his hands full of visitor passes. "Eyy, if it isn't doctor Dude,", the guy greeted Sam, his eyes just barely running over their whole group before going back to the teacher, "Good to see you. This all the kids you brought with you?"

"Yeah, it is. Everyone, this is Quackity; the head of security I mentioned before." 

          "I'd introduce myself to everyone individually, but I really don't give enough of a shit about a bunch of highschoolers to do that. I'm passing these out to everyone, so make sure you get one if you don't wanna get thrown out and sent to prison for trespassing,", Quackity said as he handed out the passes he was holding.

Tubbo snorted out a quiet laugh. "Trespassing is a misdemeanor at most."

"Oh, we got a junior cop over here,", Quackity mocked as he passed them, sending more badges that direction, "This counts as a government building on the tax forms, so it'd be felony. That leads into the long, boring talk with everyone about what you're not doing in here. Sam, I don't need to pull up some Subway Surfers footage to get them to listen to me, do I?"

"No, they're all pretty good on paying attention. For the most part."

Tommy knew the second part was directed at almost exclusively him, and made sure he was listening the whole time out of spite.

"Fantastic. I'm only here to tell you guys what to do once you're in there, past the door you'll be following around one of our scientists into the places you're allowed to see. You need to stay in your group the whole time, no wandering. No touching anything, don't disturb anyone that isn't specifically interacting with you; people are trying to work. No food or water, if you've got a snack or some shit in your pocket keep it there. Any water bottles are gonna get dumped in the lobby like you're going into the airport. I'll give someone like twenty dollars to drink the Ewe Labs jungle juice-"

"No,", Sam cut in, like a killjoy, "Don't say that, because there's at least five of them that'd do that for free."

"Boo, Sam hates freedom!", Tommy had a hand to the side of his mouth to amplify his voice, Tubbo, Ranboo, and a few other people joining in on the 'boo'ing.

"Those are the people that'd drink it."

"Oh shit, give me a list of names. Could always use some human test subjects,", Quackity chuckled, raising his hands in front of himself as Sam glared at him, "Joking, I'm joking."

"Finish with the rules."

"You aren't any fun, man. Think the last thing to go over is no photos or video. That's a serious one, anyone caught with a phone out is getting it taken and destroyed. That should have been everything. I just want to be perfectly clear that breaking any of these rules invalidates your visitor pass, which means you're tresspassing and are gonna get arrested."

"Did everyone get that?"

The whole group gave some form of confirmation, and Quackity gave them a thumbs up as he turned back toward the direction he'd come from. "Great, I'll leave you to it then! I'll probably check in later to make sure everything's going ok, and remember that there's security everywhere so don't try anything!" 

          The tour really got going after that, with someone in a generic lab coat meeting them at the door to show them around.

Tommy did, in fact, try to partake in the Ewe Labs jungle juice, but Sam asked Tubbo and Ranboo to help drag him away before he was able to have a sip of the forbidden soup. He behaved himself past that point, outside of making jokes about drinking chemicals and eating rats, gradually getting more invested in what he was being shown over trying to be funny.

Ewe focused on animal genetics and testing, which had some aspects that were incredibly unethical, but for the most part just consisted of learning more about the genes and DNA of different species beyond what was already out there.

As they were being shown around the insect segment of the labs, his eye was caught by a dark room with 'Arachnids' on the door as they passed it. It also happened to be ajar, giving a very small peek inside.

Something about it was calling to him, and he really wanted to see what was going on in there. He wasn't exactly the biggest fan of spiders, but he figured there had to be some neat shit if the rest of the tour was anything to go by.

Tommy's chance came when it was time for their tour guide to switch, since they had to wait a little while for the new one to show up.

"Sam,", he grabbed his teacher's sleeve.

"Tommy, teacher mode."

He sighed, rolling his eyes as he addressed the man again. "Mr.Dude."

"What's up?"

"Man needs to piss, is there any chance I can run off to do that while we're just fucking standing here?"

Sam looked incredibly conflicted, eventually sighing and pointing toward a hallway they'd passed earlier. "Bathroom is down there to the left. Try to be quick, ok?"

"Of course, won't even know I'm gone."

He went down that way until he was out of sight, flipping his badge over so it was harder to tell what kind it was as he carefully found his way back to the arachnid room. The hallway was somehow empty, giving him an easy entry into the mysterious and dark lab.

          Tommy felt like turning on the light was a bad idea, opting for is phone's flashlight so he could be more inconspicuous with his snooping. He didn't even really know what he was looking for, just looking around for the sake of it.

From the way it seemed right off the bat, it was a testing lab or something absolutely stacked with empty bug terrariums.

Some of them had been knocked over at some point, and Tommy had to be careful stepping over them so he didn't kick any and make noise. Although that was kinda negated by him setting his hand on a table and very promptly feeling something incredibly sharp on his wrist.

He let out a pained and loud 'Fuck' as he moved back, knocking down the rest of the cages. He caught a glimpse of a spider of some kind on the table before turning off his flashlight and hiding behind it; just barely managing to get out of view before there were people entering the room and switching the lights on.

"Who's in here?"

No way in hell was he going to answer them, that was a very easy way to get arrested for trespassing like Quackity had repeatedly warned.

Tommy zipped his hoodie up, using the hood to hide his face and carefully making his way closer to the door. The security guards that'd come to check the room had moved farther in as they were looking for him, which gave him an opening to leg it out of there.

They were chasing him, and shouting at him to stop, but he somehow managed to lose them through taking random hallways and throwing a few potted plants in the way.

He stood as close to the wall as he could manage in an empty hall, catching his breath as he quickly took the hoodie off and tied it around his waist with the black liner facing out so it'd be harder to identify if the guards saw him again.

He actually went to the bathroom after that, splashing some cold water onto his face and freezing when he saw the dark red, nearly black mark on his wrist where he'd felt the pain in that lab.

"Oh, fuck, that isn't good,", Tommy chuckled nervously, trying to decide if it was worse that he'd been bitten by a mystery bug or that this could lead to him getting caught and, once again, arrested for trespassing. 

          Running cold water over it made if hurt slightly less, but really didn't do much to help with the flush that'd settled over him as he stood there.

Running and getting his blood flowing was probably a terrible thing when there was venom of some kind in his body; horrible, even. He was a big man, though, he could handle it!

Tommy swapped a wristband from his left hand to his right, using it to cover the bite as he very carefully started stumbling his way back out of the bathroom. He thankfully ran into Tubbo, the short boy immediately moving to help him stand.

"Holy shit, are you alright?!"

"Y-Yeah,", that was a lie, "I think I got food poisoning or something from that fucking food truck shit Wil bought me this morning. Spent that whole time fucking puking."

"Yeah, you look like shit. Mr.Dude sent me to get you, we're being made to leave because they've had a security breach or something."

"Oh shit, is Freddy here?"

"Shut the fuck up,", Tubbo sighed, helping him walk.

"You can't- You can't say there's been a 'security breach' and expect me to not make the joke. You're just jealous you didn't do it first."

"No, I'm jealous that Ranboo wasn't the one that had to come get your ass, because he'd be having an easier time with this. Are you sure this is just food poisoning and not the flu or something?"

Tommy immediately jumped on that excuse, acting guilty and looking to the side. "I mean, I did feel like shit this morning-"

"Tommy."

"It isn't my fault that I decided to ignore my stomach being fucked to go on a field trip."

"It absolutely is."

"Fuck you."

"You've used the three swears Mr.Dude allotted to you, now you need to stop talking."

"Fuck you."

"What happened?", Sam asked as they got back to the group.

"So, I may have lied about why I needed the restroom,", Tommy chuckled, avoiding eye contact, "Threw the fuck up."

"That's not good. The security issue doesn't have anything to do with you, does it?"

"Unless my head going in the fucking toilet counts as one, no."

"It's a good thing we have to leave, then. Come on, everyone; same way we came. Tommy, are you good to walk on your own? You really don't look good,", Sam asked as he started herding everyone else away, concerned expression on his face.

"Should be alright, can always drag Tubbo down to the floor with me if I start falling."

Tubbo immediately walked ahead with the rest of the group. "I'm leaving him to get stepped on and die."

"Wait, no-"

          Looking like a light breeze could literally kill him made his 'food poisoning / flu' excuse believable enough that security didn't interrogate him very much as they got back to the bus, and Tommy had Tubbo help him get his phone out to call his brother once the vehicle was moving.

Wilbur answered after it rang a few times with a sigh. "I'm teaching."

"And I feel like I'm about to fucking die. The trip is ending early because someone fucking broke in or something, but I'm sick and I need to go home."

"Are you being serious?"

"I can throw up on your desk when we get back if you don't believe me."

"I'll-", Wilbur interrupted himself with another sigh, "Let me know when you're almost back, alright? Text me when you're nearly here, don't call again. I'll find someone who can cover for me after this period, ok?"

"Right, thank you."

"Of course. If you aren't really sick I'm locking you in a closet."

He could hear whatever class the man was currently teaching laugh at that, scoffing. "Fuck you."

"See you in a little while."

"Bye."

Any annoyance was gone once they were back and Wilbur actually saw him. "Holy shit, what happened?"

Tommy shrugged at him, leaving it to Sam to explain the situation as he understood it. "He said he was throwing up, and he's been sweating bullets the whole way back."

"Right... Suppose we need to stop in at the nurse's office first before I can take him home. Might take him to the hospital, he looks awful."

"Fuck you, you look awful,", Tommy muttered, feeling considerably worse than he did before.

"He told me he felt like shit when he woke up this morning,", Tubbo chimed in, "But he was pretending he was fine so he could go on the trip."

"That tracks, he's an absolute plague rat,", Wilbur sighed, helping Tommy stand so they could go.

Sneeg, the nurse, didn't even take his temperature, writing a leave slip and giving it to him with a very encouraging 'don't die' as Wilbur dragged him to the office and then out to the car.

He managed to convince his brother to just take him home instead of the emergency room, since he really didn't want to have to explain what happened to medical professionals.

It was probably because of the fever, but he would have legitimately preferred dying over admitting that he'd made a mistake wandering unsupervised in an animal testing facility.

It's a shame it didn't happen while he was following the rules; seemed like something they could sue over if the circumstances were different. 

          But no, instead he got to suffer on the sofa like an idiot without any way to get compensated for his misery.

At least he was able to sleep through the worst of it, barely remembering the next couple days outside of waking up to eat or drink something and listen to his brother stress over him.

Wilbur made sure he was able to get up and do basic things on his own again before even considering going back to work, being incredibly clingy when he had to leave on the fifth morning after the incident.

"And you're sure you'll be alright? I've still got some days I can-"

"Holy shit, you always make a big fucking deal out of being late, stop worrying about me and fucking leave."

"I've spent the better part of a week watching you writhe in a pool of sweat and misery, I'm going to be anxious about leaving you alone after that."

"I'm pretty sure the worst of it is over, I'll send you a fucking text or something if I start feeling like shit again,", Tommy made a shooing motion with his hand, "Now get out so I can fuck up your save in Skyrim."

"I might stay home just to make sure you keep your hands off of that."

"Then I'll fuck up your save if you don't get the fuck out. I'll probably be sleeping for the most part anyways."

Wilbur looked like leaving was the absolute last thing he wanted to do, but eventually sighed and gathered up the stuff he was going to need for the day. "Any issue you have, call me immediately. If you start feeling worse, if you even think you might throw up or something, let me know the second the nausea starts up."

"Alright, drama queen."

"I'm being incredibly fucking serious. I don't mind coming back to help, alright? My top priority is you at the moment."

"Work should probably be a close fucking second; we need money to live."

"I've got plenty of money saved up, missing a few days isn't going to do any harm."

"Go, I'll still fucking be here when you're done boring the fuck out of seven periods worth of students."

"You'd better be,", he ruffled Tommy's hair, "There's still some of that soup in the fridge, and if you think you can handle solid food, there's some pizza as well-"

"Go."

Wilbur completely ignored him, continuing like he hadn't been interrupted. "Remember to drink water, I've got some electrolytes in the cupboard; those should help you replenish some of the water you lost through sweat. Try to take a shower if you feel well enough, you stink and I'm sure that would help you fell better." 

          "Fuck you, I smell perfectly fine. If anything, you're the one that stinks. I can fucking smell you from here,", he wrinkled his nose as he said it, only partially joking.

It probably had something to do with him not really being able to smell much while he was practically comatose, but everything seemed to smell far stronger than it had before.

The worst of it was his room, he could see what Wilbur was always complaining about whenever he had to go to the bathroom and walked past it. His door wasn't even open, and it was like he could smell every pair of unwashed underwear he'd left on his floor to handle later.

That was enough to make him start feeling sick again, since on it's own whatever he'd caught had calmed down to him feeling like he'd run the cross-fit version of a marathon or something. His fever had gone down to a manageable level, he was holding down food; really he was just weak from putting up with whatever fucked up version of the flu he caught.

But he'd made it through, proving once again that Tommy Innes Soot was the strongest man alive. Ever.

Wilbur gasped in mock offense at Tommy's insult, sniffing under his arm and scowling when Tommy started laughing at him. "That's enough to quell my concerns. If you're well enough to be insulting me, you're well enough to be left alone."

"I'll insult you further if you don't go."

"Don't taunt me a second time, you aren't the French."

"What the fuck does that even mean?"

"Don't worry about it,", Wilbur grabbed his car keys, "Don't make too much of a mess, but I'm also not expecting you to clean up and messes you do end up making."

"Trash the place, got it."

"If you can muster up enough energy to do so, have fun. Don't overexert yourself, alright?"

"I won't, bye."

"Goodbye, I'll text to check in when I'm on lunch."

And like that, he was alone. The first thing he did was go back to sleep, because six in the morning was way too early to be awake when he wasn't going to school.

He woke up again some time around eleven, needing a second for his eyes to adjust to the light coming in through the window before being able to see his phone well enough to send a thumbs up in response to a text Wilbur had sent asking how he was doing. 

          After that, he got up to make something to eat. The soup his brother had mentioned was just some canned stuff that he'd stuck into a container so it was easier to heat up, and, in Tommy's ever correct opinion, it tasted like it'd been in a tin.

He knew what it should taste like, because it was the one that Wilbur always got for him when he was sick, but this time it had a seriously strong metallic taste along with the normal cheap chicken noodle flavor.

That was also probably because of him being as sick as he was, because even the salt wasn't overpowering it; and that made up, like, ninety-percent of what the soup even was.

He tried adding more after microwaving it for a few minutes, but stopped when he realized it wasn't doing anything except lining him up for sodium poisoning on top of the mystery plague. Adding random stuff from the cupboard didn't really do much to improve it either, and he was just going to settle for sad, metal soup before having another idea.

He remembered seeing something ages ago about sugar cancelling out salt or something, maybe that'd work for the tin aftertaste as well?

Most things on the internet are usually true, and he'd managed to survive fifteen years without problems so far, so he decided to test it.

He didn't want to add too much, since he didn't like sweet things very much, but wasn't really able to stop himself from adding a few tablespoons after tasting how much better it'd been after only one.

That was something he was probably going to have to figure out later, because he didn't have nearly enough energy to try understanding it then. Getting some food in his system made him feel better, and the longer he sat there the more he had to accept that Wilbur had had a point earlier.

He didn't smell the best.

He was, in fact, quite smelly.

To a point that he wasn't going to be able to ignore it, even out of spite. The sofa also stank, probably from him sweating on it for like three days, so he opened the window despite it being the middle of February and went to deal with the stink problem. He also closed the curtains, because holy hell was it bright outside.

          His room was so much worse when the door was opened, and he decided he was just going to steal some clothes from Wilbur after giving up on trying to venture inside without holding his breath.

The shower he took was normal, only real thing of note being how much harder it felt like the water was coming out. It was also louder, maybe the flat building did something to the water pressure while he was sick?

Either way, it was nice after going four days without washing anything beyond his hands. Standing in the shower got rid of what little energy he'd been able to muster in the movement department, so he retreated back to the livingroom to relax again.

It was cold as all hell in there, especially with his hair wet, but having the window open got rid of the horrible smell of must that'd been filling the space before. The sofa was still foul, though, so he ran to steal the blankets off of Wilbur's bed to set up something comfortable on the carpet.

Could he have probably just laid down in his brother's room? Probably.

Did he want to? Not really, that would mean more movement if he decided he wanted a snack or something. Or some water, which was a thought that made him realize that he was pretty thirsty.

He figured that was something he should get before settling on the floor; water is technically important.

Tommy shuffled his way back over to the kitchen, lifting his arm to grab a cup out of the cabinet and almost immediately dropping it.

"Shit-", he reached his hand out toward it as it fell to the floor, feeling something tingle in his wrist as the shatter he was waiting for didn't come. Not even a clatter, the cup didn't hit the floor.

It took him a moment to realize that the cup was currently attached to his arm by something... white.

His immediate first thought was to make a cum joke, before the it really clicked with him that something was incredibly wrong here.

He panicked, trying to detach whatever the string of white shit was from him and breaking the cup anyways from flailing. He managed to get the string off after that, poking at it and finding it to be incredibly sticky.

"Fuck- Damn, this really looks like- Don't say it, this is serious,", he was muttering to himself, mind racing as he tried to piece together exactly what'd happened. 

          He was minding his own business, getting some water, dropped the cup, and reached his hand out to catch it. Tommy slowly moved his hand the same way he had before, trying to think of what exactly he'd done to cause that. He was trying to grab the cup as it fell, but he couldn't quite reach it...

Another string of the white stuff came out of his wrist, this time hitting the ceiling as he fell backwards in surprise.

He thankfully missed landing on the cup he'd broken, catching his breath before immediately hyperventilating because what the fuck.

Surely he'd seen that wrong, surely he'd felt it wrong. Maybe he was having some kind of fucked up fever hallucination; that was something that happened, right?

He scrambled to his feet, going over to the table to grab the thermometer so he could see if he was about to die or something.

His temperature was perfectly normal, lower than it'd been earlier, even. So then maybe his brain had been messed up somehow from the fever he'd had before? But nothing strange had happened before that.

Except for his sense of smell being kind of fucked. Or his taste buds being kind of fucked. Or his eyes being-

Ok, so maybe there'd been some other signs that something was wrong, but those were explainable to some extent. But this? This was some freak of nature type shit that he had no idea where to even begin breaking down.

He nearly called Wilbur to tell him to get home and take him to the emergency room, stopping right before hitting the button as he realized something.

He'd shot some white, sticky stuff out of his wrist. It clung to the cup strong enough to catch it. The second shot was still stuck in the corner of the kitchen ceiling.

Almost like a spider web...

"No fucking shot,", Tommy shakily scrambled to his feet again, going into the kitchen and using the broom to get down the mystery substance so he could have a better look at it.

Now, he wasn't really a spider expert, but it really looked like the webs he used to find in the back garden of the house he'd grown up in. Tommy dropped the broom, taking a step back and looking down at his hands.

He used the other one this time, holding it out toward the wall and trying again. 

          And, again, the web came out in a messy blob that stuck to the edge of the window.

Normally, he'd be very loudly freaking out about something like this, but he was very much in shock about the situation as a whole.

He decided the best course of action was to clean up any sign of the webs, because he didn't want to explain any of this to Wilbur. Not yet, anyways; he needed to figure out a way to make it seem like this wasn't his fault.

Because there was no doubt in his mind that this was because of the spider bite. The bite that'd calmed down to two little black spots on his wrist. If he didn't know any better, he'd assume they were freckles.

Tommy finally got some water after he was done hiding evidence, leaving the remains of the first cup on the floor for Wilbur to deal with as he very skillfully went back to the blanket pile he'd made earlier and promptly passed out. He'd already been tired, and the adrenaline from the web situation running out left him on empty.

He was dragged back into consciousness later when he heard the door open, not moving very much as he hoped he'd be able to go back to sleep.

"Holy shit, it's absolutely frigid in here,", the door closed, and there was a pause, "Tommy?"

"Floor,", Tommy tiredly called back, moving the blanket off of his head.

"And why are you on the floor?"

"'Cause the sofa stinks."

"And you chose the floor over your bed because?"

"'Cause my room stinks."

"I see,", Wilbur came over, squatting down and sticking the back of his hand to Tommy's forehead, "It feels like your fever's gone down more, how are you feeling?"

"Tired."

"Sorry for waking you, then."

"'s ok. I broke a cup earlier."

"You didn't cut yourself on it, did you?"

"No, I left it alone."

Wilbur let out  tired sigh, ruffling Tommy's hair and standing again. "I'll take care of it, go ahead and go back to sleep. I'll see if I can do something about the sofa, as well; so you can get off of the floor."

He gave a tired 'mhm' in response, rolling over and almost immediately passing out again.

The solution to the couch's stench problem was just a few blankets being thrown over it until Wilbur had the time to rent a steam cleaner, but that was better than nothing so Tommy made sure he didn't stick his face too close to it and he was fine for the most part.

          He was able to get away with laying around the house and avoiding school for another couple days before Wilbur deemed him well enough to go again.

And, normally, he would have been dreading it. Going back to school after spending a week doing nothing but watching TV and scrolling through random stuff on his phone sounded like the worst thing imaginable.

But, it also gave him a chance to be alone and figure out what the fuck was going on with the webs he was making.

There was only so much he could do inside of the apartment while he was trying to hide it, and he needed to actually go outside and experiment with it if he wanted to know anything.

The only things he knew for sure is that whatever it was was sticky, it was strong, and it started to decay after a few hours.

That one he learned when he decided to use it to dangle his phone from the ceiling so he didn't have to hold it; leaving him with a very lovely red mark on his face after it fell right on his nose.

Tommy spent his last day off before being made to go back cleaning up the apartment some, since it still fucking reeked, and coming home to see laundry being done was almost enough to convince Wilbur that he was still sick and needed longer. He wasn't that lucky, though, and was being forced to get up at the normal time on an incredibly cold Friday morning.

After that it was same routine, different day. Outside of his brother keeping a closer eye on him than usual, anyways.

Get up, complain, go get breakfast at some random place on the way to the school. Tommy was glad to have a hot drink, taking a sip of the tea Wilbur had bought him-

And immediately spitting it out on the dashboard of the car.

"What the fuck, man?", Wilbur asked, sounding incredibly annoyed.

"This tastes like shit."

"It's exactly the same as it always is."

"They must have fucked it up or something, this is nasty."

"Here, let me see it,", Wilbur grabbed the cup from him, taking a sip, "Plain black tea, tastes as horrible as always. Your tastebuds might be fucked from being sick, still."

Tommy folded his arms with a sigh. "That's fucking stupid."

"Mope about it while you clean the spit off of my fucking car,", Wilbur handed him a napkin, not taking his eyes off of the road.

"That's so rude and inconsiderate, I'm mourning here."

"The fuck are you mourning?"

"A perfectly good drink."

"You can still drink it."

"No, it tastes like dirt."

"Then don't complain. Wipe up the mess you made before it dries, because then I'm going to make you clean the whole thing."

Tommy took the napkin from him, muttering out a mix of swears and complaints as he did the bare minimum of cleaning up the tea he'd spat.

          And things were back on track after that. He dumped the tea in the parking lot, filled the cup with some water from a drinking fountain inside the school, and took his drink and lukewarm bagel to his usual table to wait for his friends.

A few different people asked if he was alright as they came in, and that's how he found out that his brother had been very poorly hiding his concern for him once he'd gone back to work; meaning Tommy now had some very prime bullying material.

He thought up different ways to make fun of his brother for that as he went to take a bite of his food, having to stop himself from spitting it out like he had the tea.

It didn't taste nearly as bad, but it sure as hell didn't taste like it should have. It was overly salty, and there was some chemical taste that he couldn't quite place in the sad puck of egg in the middle of it.

He managed to get down the first bite, needing to drink nearly half of the water he had to get the taste to go away.

Tommy opened the notes app on his phone, finally breaking and admitting to himself that his sense of taste being completely fucked was probably related to whatever was going on with the webs. He'd almost exclusively been eating the rest of the canned soup while he was home, so he'd been figuring it was something wrong with that before. But the fact that it was also an issue with the tea, and now the bagel...

Tommy was startled by someone sitting directly next to him, quickly turning off his phone screen before whoever it was could see.

"So, how was being on death's door for a week?"

He rolled his eyes, playing it off and giving Tubbo a shove out of his personal space. "I was not 'on death's door'; I spent a couple days sleeping, and then I got to play animal crossing."

"Any idea what was wrong with you?"

The temptation to tell the short boy what happened was there, but Tommy decided that it would be a terrible idea to explain it; especially at school. "No clue, just know that it felt fucking awful and I would rather actually die than go through that again."

"I can arrange that."

"Arrange yourself a fucking therapy session."

"You first."

"Excuse you, I am free of sin."

"That's bullshit."

"Now Tubbo, there's no need to lash out at me for being the perfect example of what a man should strive for. Really, you should be thanking me for my input."

"You're incredibly lucky you were sick recently, or I'd be striking you down with the might of god."

"You're built like a toddler, what fucking might are you talking about?" 

          Ranboo broke them up when he eventually got there, and Tommy decided to thank him for this by stealing his muffin.

"Wow, really?"

"You can have my sandwich, if you want."

"You're really gonna take the muffin that I paid for with my money, and offer me a cold bagel you already took a bite out of in exchange?"

"Yes. Do you want it or not?"

"Sure,", they shrugged, taking it without much hesitation.

Tubbo wrinkled his nose as he watched Tommy take a large bite out of the cafeteria muffin. "I thought you didn't like the school's breakfast shit?"

"I don't,", Tommy skillfully ignored how he was legitimately enjoying the usually far too sweet muffin, "Shit's been tasting weird lately, Wil said he thinks it's from me being sick."

"Maybe it fixed you."

"Fuck you, I wasn't broken. And even if I was, the only thing that'd 'fix' me is a two liter of diet coke and the school getting burnt down."

"I won't lie, my first thought when he said 'fixed' was in a dog sense; like, neutered,", Ranboo snickered, cackling when Tommy tried to shove him off the bench onto the floor.

The school day practically flew past after that, with Tommy anxiously waiting for it to be over so he could go experiment with his wrist goop. Wilbur had to stay at the school to catch up on stuff he'd missed while he was taking care of Tommy, meaning that Tommy just had to say he was going home and his brother wouldn't follow up on that.

And, being fair, he was going home first. He had to drop his bag off and change into a hoodie or something so he could hide his face in case someone came across him shooting sus white stuff out of his arms. After that it was a matter of finding somewhere to shoot the sus white stuff, because doing something like that out in the open in the middle of the city seemed like a bad idea.

That led to him Googling abandoned buildings in his area and settling on some factory that hadn't been in use for a good ten to fifteen years; deciding that science was far more important than tetanus. He was probably up to date on his shots.

Probably.

~-~-~

Next Chapter

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Spiderinnit time! pog!

[twilitty]

By The Moon

By: @twilitty

Chapter Two: First Day

word count: 2.4k

image from this post by @stregoni-benefici

I wake up a little before seven in the morning, my first full day in Forks. A million more to come. It's raining, the heavy drops tapping against the roof above me and leaving trails down my windowpane. I can't tell how long it's been raining, but I have a feeling it's just recently started. I rarely wake up this early, I'm not exactly a morning person, so it was probably the rain that woke me up.

In Phoenix, I was always the first one awake in the house, bright and early at eight o'clock. Phil was always soon to follow, up and ready to run off to the gym or practice. Then, much later on, Renee would roll out of bed just in time for the class of the month. Sometimes yoga, sometimes jiu-jitsu, once even a scrapbooking club for senior citizens at the community center. That was her longest streak yet, a full two months.

My room is shrouded in the dim light coming in from through the window. The sun hasn't risen yet, a fact I somehow remember from my summers here as a kid. The sun seems to rise so late here in the summer. Not that it's summer now, the cold air has already begun to seep into the sleepy town and school started nearly a month ago. But still, the sun persists in its late wake schedule. I fumble for my phone, responding to a few texts from mom and a single picture of their rental in Florida from Phil. It's right on the beach, just seconds from the surf. She must love that.

It's a little depressing to think about Renee sitting on the beach, soaking her feet in the cool water, especially when my situation looks so bleak and gloomy in comparison. I get dressed, pulling on jeans and a hoodie to mask my body from the cold that always infiltrates the poorly insulated house, and then move to the bathroom to get ready for the day. I find that Charlie is still asleep, the main floor of the house empty and his cruiser parked out front.

He'd offered to drive me to and from school, a small conversation we had over the phone a few weeks before my arrival. Forks is too small to have a bus system and I don't have the money for a car. I kindly accepted, but secretly wished mom would at least try to help me with finding a second-hand vehicle. Even one from the 90s that ran on nothing but wishful thinking and rock music. I could live with that; I could learn to live with that. But mom's only consolation was that Charlie was well-liked and that was sure to make me a friend of the staff.

Perfect. All the students will think I'm a narc, driving in with a cop, but at least the teachers will like me. First introductions matter, and with mine, it'll be a lonely high school experience.

I pour myself a bowl of cereal and start the ancient coffee machine. It squeals in protest as I dump in the coffee grounds and plug it in. That will be the first renovation this house needs- a new coffee machine. While that is brewing, I grab my computer from upstairs and sit at the kitchen table. I start with checking my email, just a few promotions and nothing too exciting, a single email from one of my teachers in Phoenix. I clicked it hopefully, maybe I forgot something important and need to go back immediately to get it. Maybe I'll have to stay there overnight so as to not fly in the dark.

It's a reminder that my essay is due in a week, and a reminder to pick a group for peer editing. She then asks me where I've been for the past three days and that I've missed a substantial portion of the Frankenstein unit. I email her back quickly, a scowl deep-set into my face at the absolute idiocrasy of this situation. She doesn't even know that I've left the state. She has no idea that I'm never coming back. A lump forms in my throat at the thought. I tell her that I've moved and will not be coming back, that I will not be turning in an essay and have enrolled in another school.

Send.

I shouldn't be so shocked that she had no idea I was leaving, Renee probably forgot to inform the school that I was enrolling elsewhere. I'll have to call tomorrow and get that sorted out. The last thing I need is for mom to receive angry calls from the principal about me ditching. She has enough on her plate with the move.

Charlie and I spend the morning together, he wakes up and eats some leftover spaghetti for breakfast, which I make a face at, and then we're off to pick up groceries. "Do you want a tour of the town, Bells?" He offers with a kind look in my direction, I shake my head but thank him anyways.

"Everything is just off the highway, right?" I ask with a smile. As a kid, he'd always tell me that everything you could possibly want is either just off the highway or at the end of one. That highways are what keep small towns connected to the rest of the world.

He smiles at this, clearly glad that I've retained some memory of my visits here. "Everything you need, just off the highway." We hit the only grocery store in town, which is just off by the main downtown strip. The strip is more a street, and even then, it's barely a full street and many of the store windows are closed.

We hit the store, grabbing all of the essentials and a few things I've requested (microwave popcorn and an herbal tea set). Then we're off back home and settling everything into the kitchen.

There's a knock on the front door, and I wait for Charlie to make a move, but he stays at the table. "How about you answer it, Bells?" He asks without looking up. I move to the door and open it to a large teenage boy. Russet skin and wide shoulders greet me with a hug that can only compare to an anaconda's death grip, "Bella!" The deep voice booms against my ear and recognition flares off in my brain. My arms quickly wrap around Jacob's midsection, and I laugh against his chest.

He finally lets me go and I take a step back to appraise him. He's tall for his age, just a few months younger than me, and his hair seems longer than the last time I saw him. It's loose and falling down his shoulders in silky black strips, I was always envious of his hair. Jake looks so similar to himself as a kid, he was my best friend here in Forks. He still has the same long nose and deep-set eyes, only now his chin seems more defined and surely his teeth weren't that white. It looks like someone's come in and accentuated all his best features. He's watching me watch him. Eyes gliding across my face easily, as if there hasn't been a multi-year gap between us talking.

"Bella, you look…" he trails off and I roll my eyes, turning and motioning for him to follow me in.

"The same? I know."

Jake laughs at this but shakes his head, "I was gonna say pale, but that works, too." Now it's my turn to laugh, but more out of mock pain than humour. "Did Charlie tell you?" He shoots out quickly, just as I hear footsteps approaching from behind. I look to see Charlie with a false scolding look on his face, wagging a finger at Jake.

"No, I haven't had a chance yet, but thanks for almost spoiling the surprise." My stomach drops into a pit underneath me, and my ears are already aflame. Blood rushes up to my face and I clench my teeth at all the horrors that the word surprise could hold.

"Char- dad, you know I don't like surprises." I try to keep my tone light, but my thoughts are anything but and my filtering skills need some tuning. I've never liked surprises, with a lack of coordination as extreme as mine, disliking the unknown is more of a survival skill than a prudish quality.

"Bella, you'll love it," Charlie persists, but my feelings don't relent. Still, one look at Jacob's face tells me that I should at least pretend to be excited. He looks like a little kid all over again, with wide eyes and a sheepish smile. This has something to do with him, and I don't want to spoil it for him.

"Yeah, okay, but if you've given me a fishing rod-" they both break out into quick protests at my faulty guess. There have been too many poor experiences with me and fishing hooks.

"Hurry up in there!" I hear a man yell from outside, Jacob looks over his shoulder and waves the voice away. It must be Billy. I haven't seen him in years, but the last time I saw him he was cooking hotdogs for Jacob, his sisters, and me over a fire. All happy smiles and fine lines creasing his cheeks. Charlie prods me forward and I step out onto the porch.

Immediately my eyes are drawn to the giant red truck sitting in the driveway. It's ancient, with huge fenders and a small cab, the steering wheel can be seen over the dash. I love it. There are a few rust spots, but those can be buffed out easily. "Oh my god," I breathe without realizing it. Jacob jogs down to open the driver's door for me.

"Your chariot, madame." My hands fly to my mouth as I realize what's happening here. He just smiles at me, gesturing for me to come down and get in. "I fixed it up," he explains with pride, "this past summer. I thought you'd like it." I take the stairs slowly, hands fixed to my mouth as I breathe in the surprise shallowly.

"You made me a truck?" I ask incredulously. His smile falters for a second, but his optimism cannot be wavered.

"I wouldn't say I made it, but I fixed it up, sure." He laughs lightly at this and before he can say another word, I throw my arms around his neck. I say thank you into his shirt and he pats my back a few times before turning me away from him. "Come on, at least make sure it runs before you accept it!"

I smile wide at his invitation to enter the cab of the truck, quickly stepping up into the driver's seat and running my fingers over the steering wheel. I know it's poor manners to just accept a gift, especially as big a gift as an entire truck, without at least fake declining it first. But my brain isn't totally switched on properly so instead I thank Jake a million more times as he climbs up into the passenger seat next to me. He shows me all the truck's quirks, the entire time I'm grinning like a fool. He doesn't mind showing me things a second time when I look a little confused, but he keeps assuring me that he knows how thankful I am and that I don't need to say it again.

Once we get out of my new truck, Billy and Charlie are out in the street laughing like old friends. It looks like Billy and Jake came into town in the minivan parked on the opposite side of the road, a faded dark green with tinted windows. Billy rolls up the driveway towards us once he notices us step out, his wheelchair speeding past Charlie faster than I would have thought possible. "Hey, Billy," I say a little out of breath as he reaches us, the excitement has taken all the energy out of me. He gives me a wide smile and takes my hand in both of his, patting affectionately.

"Bella, you look so old now," he says softly, his lips turning up at the edges and giving a bit of a wicked grin. "But not nearly as old as Charlie over here-" He drops my hand and turns his head around to stick his tongue out at the victim of his joke.

We all talk for a couple of minutes, me thanking Jake profusely and him waving me away each time. Eventually, Billy complains that he's got to get going, he's got fish to catch and send over to Harry Clearwater. "Make sure you send some of that my way," Charlie throws in as we cross the street to the minivan. "I don't mind sending a tip your way or Harry's, but I love that man's fish fry."

Much like his son, Billy waves Charlie's good-natured offers of payment away. "I will send some over for free. We are friends, this is what friends do." Jake looks at me with a sarcastic smile and a roll of his eyes. I guess this type of thing happens often here, Charlie and Billy bantering this way. I wouldn't know. "Although," Billy sends a serious look my way. "It will likely be Jacob sending the fish over, the boy said he's looking to come into town more now that-" Jacob quickly grabs the back handles of his dad's wheelchair and whirs him around to face the van. "Jake!" He protests, throwing his hands up and looking over at us in astonishment.

"Gotta get the old man home before he says anything incriminating," Jacob explains sullenly, avoiding my eyes at all costs. I try not to think about what this could mean and instead just roll my eyes the same way he rolled them at me earlier.

"I hope you're staying out of trouble," My dad pipes in with faux concern, even though it's obvious the incrimination Jacob was worried about was nothing of the legal matter. I didn't want to think about what that could mean either.

"If he had it his way-" Billy starts again, already a devilish grin starting. "Okay! Time to go!" Jake interrupts, tossing open the passenger side door and getting ready to maneuver his father into it.

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