#teffpa

[ranburgular]

Friends in Warm Places

Written with @vampyr-starr

Read on ao3

Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3

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“You're going to this school. You will do whatever this man asks of you. You're going to get better here, Wilbur.”

“Like hell I will!” Wilbur shouted, pushing away from Phil and taking off running. His heart was already beating out of his chest, the only thing he could think was run. Run, before those freaks get you and you’re either a lab rat or a lion in a circus for the rest of your life. If you want any hope of ever seeing the sun again after today, you run. Wilbur’s lungs burned already, but he didn’t stop. He couldn’t stop, not even if he wanted to, as he reached the treeline. Cement buildings were less than ten yards away, but he didn’t stop, not even as he heard shouts from guards. 

He was so close, so close-

A weight hit him in the side, knocking the air from his lungs as he slammed into the ground. A sharp pain shot through his back, but he didn’t, couldn’t, care about that now. He started kicking, screaming for anyone to help him, he knew he sounded like a crazy person but he didn’t care. He had to get out. 

All of a sudden, another blow struck him, this time in the shoulder. Wilbur screamed in agony as horrific, burning pain blossomed through it, following what he could’ve sworn was a crack. His left arm now lay useless on the ground next to him, unable to move it without making the already excruciating pain worse. Wilbur managed to get his right arm out from under whoever was on top of him, holding him down, and shot a flame directly at what he could see of the man’s head. There was a scream, and Wilbur felt the weight get off his chest. Rolling over, which only irritated his shoulder more, he got up, running with whatever he still had left. Unfortunately, whatever that was, the guards had more of it. 

Just as he was about to make it past the buildings, he heard a zap, and a blinding, intense, cramping pain flooded his entire body. Wilbur froze, unable to move even if he wanted to, his mouth open in a silent scream, when he collapsed to the ground. Twitching, tears going down his cheeks, he heard shouts of congratulations from the guards. As the world started to go dark, the last thing Wilbur heard was 

“Take him to the lab. Dream’ll want to see ‘im.” 

Finally, graciously, Wilbur passed out. 

—

“-vicle is stable, it should be fine in about eight weeks.”

“Good. He’ll have some physical therapy starting in a month.” 

“Got it- Oh. He’s waking up.”

“Why hello there, Wilbur.”

Wilbur opened his eyes a tiny bit, still feeling the burning in his shoulder, and he winced. His body felt like a sack of potatoes, his throat ached with the effort of trying not to cry. Shifting his weight, he opened his eyes more, seeing a few guards standing at the door and two doctors, the one who’d greeted Phil and another with dark hair and thick glasses. Wilbur was lying in what felt like a dentist’s chair, an IV stuck in his hand and his left arm in a sling. 

“...Where am I?” He muttered, everything from before seemed foggy. 

The one who’d greeted Phil, Dream, smiled. “You’re in the Exdee Foundation, and you’re currently in one of our treatment facilities. You had to be sedated quite a bit out there.”

In a rush, Wilbur suddenly remembered. Being tackled, the crack in his shoulder, that terrible, terrible zap-

“No- no, get me out of here…” He slurred, trying to get out of the chair. Dream gently pushed him back before he could fully stand.

“You won’t be getting up for a while. We gave you a sedative, and it won’t fully wear off for another half hour or so.” He explained. 

Wilbur shook his head, a few tears going down his cheeks. “Where’s Tommy?”

“Your brother is fine. He’s at dinner right now, and from what I’ve heard, he’s alright.”

“I want to see him.” Wilbur demanded weakly. “I want to see my brother.”

Dream shook his head this time. “You won’t be seeing him unless you’re both well behaved. From what I’ve seen from you, that’ll be a challenge.”

“No… no, I want my brother!” Wilbur cried out, his voice pathetically weak and cracked. Dream shushed him, wiping his tears away. 

“You’ll go to your room once you can walk, but we have some things to take care of first.” 

“...What things?” Wilbur asked, weaker than he would’ve liked to have sounded.

“Well, usually, we’d have you take a shower and change. But given your…” Dream gestured at the sling. “...situation, we changed your clothes for you while you were unconscious so as to avoid any excessive pain.” 

For the first time, Wilbur looked at his outfit, and saw with horror that his t-shirt and black bomber jacket were gone, replaced with a simple white shirt. His pants had been changed as well, and his shoes were gone. 

“Where are my clothes?” He asked, trying to muster as much anger in his voice as he could. 

“You'll get them back when you graduate, this is what you'll be wearing while you're here.” Dream said matter-of-factly. 

“Give me my clothes!” Wilbur demanded.

Dream sighed. “You’re a fighter, aren’t you, Wilbur? Even when you’ve got dexmedetomidine in your system and can’t even walk.” 

Wilbur didn’t even pretend to know what that drug was, and he couldn’t care much about it now anyway. He shook his head, looking away at another wall.

“I want to get out of here. I want to go home.”

Wilbur could hear Dream sit next to him and take his good hand, running his cold fingers over the IV in it. He shivered, his hand heating up on instinct, and Dream’s hand moved away quickly. 

“Wilbur, what you have to understand is that you’re no longer just living for yourself now. You’re here to help others, to further understanding of others like you. You want that, right?”

Wilbur shook his head weakly. “I want to go home.” 

“I think we both know that can’t happen.” Dream smiled. “For now, let’s get you set up.”

The dark-haired doctor walked around to behind Wilbur’s chair, something Wilbur did not appreciate. He needed to see, who knew what these sickos could be thinking of doing to him. They could knock him out cold, drug him, maybe even kill him, though Wilbur doubted that.

The telltale sound of an electric razor clicked to life, and for once in his life, his blood ran cold. 

“Get away from me!” Wilbur shouted, trying desperately to get out of the chair. If he ran far enough, he thought, the IV would come out on its own, it wouldn’t feel nice, but it’d be better than this. Anything would be better than this. He struggled and squirmed, but then Dream’s hands were a hard weight on his shoulders. 

“I don’t want to have to sedate you again, Wilbur.” He said with a harsh tone. “Hold still, or this will be more painful than it has to be.” 

Shaking his head, Wilbur continued to try and fight, though it was pointless as Dream held him down in the chair. The buzzing got closer and closer, until Wilbur felt a sharp sting across his scalp, causing him to gasp in pain.

“You’re doing this to yourself, Wilbur.” Dream commented. “Even your brother didn’t fight this much.”

“You’re sick! Get off me!” Wilbur shouted, tears filling his eyes at the stinging pain and the thought of Tommy going through this too. There was no way he could’ve made it through this without fighting, he knew Tommy, he wasn’t that kind of person. Dream had to be lying. But as his eyes wandered as he tried to avoid the feeling of his hair being shaved away, he spotted a few spare tufts of golden hair in one of the corners of the room, and Wilbur had to stifle a sob. He knew this was maybe the stupidest thing he would ever cry over, but the idea that Tommy went through the same thing made more tears slip down Wilbur's face. 

It was over when Wilbur was done crying, but he honestly had zoned out, he just realized that he was being helped out of the chair. He felt the IV being removed, catching a glance at himself in that dingy old mirror and fighting the urge to start sobbing again. Wilbur didn’t have the best hair in the world, but it was his hair, and they just stripped that away like it was nothing. Wilbur knew that Tommy loved his hair a little more than Wilbur did, he had hair like Phil’s, bright flaxen colored locks that complemented his blue eyes and fair skin. 

Wilbur actually managed a smile, remembering a game they used to play with Phil. Tommy the prince, Wilbur his musician, and Phil, the king of their realm. Wilbur would give anything in that second to just be back in their yard, shrieking giggles coming from Tommy as Phil danced with him in the air, his fingers picking at guitar strings to give extra ambience. He found himself humming the same chords over and over, mimicking how he’d move his fingers. 

“God, has he lost it already?” One of the guards said in a half-serious, half-giddy sounding tone. 

“Fastest one in a while, I’d wager.” The other snickered. 

Wilbur felt like spitting at them, but he was so weak, he just kept humming, thinking of Tommy and his grinning face. He shouldn’t have ran, he was an idiot. He would go back in time to kick him right in the stomach, the version of him who thought running was a good idea. He could have spent those moments left with his brother instead of trying to save himself. He grit his teeth and kept humming as he was haphazardly dragged to his room. As he was pulled into a hallway, a dizzying wave of heat suddenly hit him, causing him to shudder. Why the fuck was it so warm in here?

“We’re putting you in a room with another pyrokinetic. Usually we discourage such pairings, we’ve had some issues in the past, but you seem like you’re going to be incapacitated for a while.” Dream chirped, happy to report on Wilbur’s misery. “Plus, this one is one of the most well behaved and useful! He can show you the ropes, isn’t that exciting?” 

Wilbur fought the urge to sneer. He just nodded. Dream grinned, always smiling, Wilbur wanted to punch him in his perfect, uncannily white teeth. The guards opened the door to the room and tossed him in, not caring for his still mostly-numb legs and broken collarbone. He would have smacked his head on the wall if he hadn't curled in on himself. Dream waved happily as the door began to close. 

“You’ll be finding out your schedule tomorrow! In the meantime, chat with your new friend!” The door slammed shut, and Wilbur just sat there dumbly, staring down at his own hands, wondering if this was actually real. 

“What are ya in for?” Came the most horrifying accent impression across the room, something close to New Jersey, but so obviously British underneath. Wilbur glanced up, slightly startled. This person was about his age, Wilbur had to wager, maybe a few years older? 

His hair was darker, but it was growing out a little. He had defined cheekbones and nose, and something that looked like thin scars, almost like fingernail scratches, trailed down his face. He was wearing strange glasses, red and blue lenses like a 3D movie’s, but they were framed with thin, shiny, golden wire, and Wilbur doubted there were movies shown in this place anyway. He was wearing a black long sleeved shirt with thumb holes that he fiddled with, as well as gray sweats, but they were a little too small for his long legs and Wilbur spotted a nasty burn scar on his ankle. He was also shockingly pale, like a corpse. Was anyone even allowed outside? He had a glare on his face, which appeared to be his resting expression.

“Uh- what’s with the… glasses?” Wilbur gestured with his free hand. 

The boy smiled a little, his glare disappearing. “They used to give them to pyros to help them adjust to other pyro’s fire. Sometimes it can be so bright it hurts our eyes. You can adjust naturally, most people tossed these after a week, but I liked them. They make me feel cool.” He lifted them up as if to prove his point, but squinted as if seeing in all kinds of colors was overwhelming. He quickly flipped them back onto his nose bridge.

Wilbur nodded. “How long have you… been here?” 

The fellow shave-headed boy forced a shiver from head to toe, laughing softly. “Ooh! Digging into personal stuff already?” 

Wilbur had the decency to lower his head, he extended a hand. “Sorry. I, uh, my name’s Wilbur.” 

Slowly, the boy got off his cot-like bed and walked over. Wilbur could hardly hear his footsteps. They shook hands firmly. “Jack. To answer your question, I’ve been here for about ten years.” 

Wilbur’s stomach dropped, then rose into his throat so violently that he thought was going to vomit. Eventually, it settled and he was able to speak. “Ten years?” 

Jack nodded, as if it wasn’t a big deal. “I got here when I was nine. Been here ever since.” 

“Why? Doesn’t your family want you back?” 

Jack shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ll be sure to get out and ask their graves.” 

“Oh. Uh, I’m sorry.” 

“It’s fine.” Jack shrugged again, going back to sit on his bed. “I’m not the biggest fan of living either. I can’t wait to join them.” 

Wilbur swallowed, suddenly feeling worry and a strong attachment to his roommate, despite only having just exchanged names. Wilbur guessed one could get really attached to any other kind of human when there’s the fear of never seeing others you love again. “You aren’t…” 

“Oh no, they wouldn’t allow that. I’m too useful, after all. They’d find a way to get me back, and just at the ten minute mark too, I bet.” He grumbled the last part, pressing his cheek onto one of his knees that was brought up close to his chest. His red and blue lensed glasses looked uncomfortable crammed up on his face. 

“Okay. Dream said you were going to show me the… the ropes?” 

Jack groaned, rubbing his eye under his glasses. “We can do that tomorrow. I know there’s no windows in here, but it’s fucking late.” 

“Oh, alright.” Wilbur felt so far out of his element, he even felt like he wasn’t talking like normal anymore. He slowly got to his feet, trying to hide how he shook, and held onto the wall for balance. He found his way to his own cot, and lay down, it was uncomfortable, making his body ache already. He closed his eyes, holding one side of his face comfortingly with his free hand. 

He let his eyes slowly move around his eyelids, praying to someone, somewhere, that he’d wake up and this would have all been some insane drug induced nightmare. But even as his breath slowed, and sleep began to take him away, he knew it was real. 

And that made it all the more terrifying. 

[teffpa-creators-speak]

꩜✰master post✰꩜

hello there! we are the creators of both the fanfic, and this blog, Jay and Jonah! this is our masterpost of information, which will be changed and curated over the times we post, or are asked questions!

just in case you haven't read TEFFPA yet, here is a small synopsis for all that goes on inside this fascinating tale...

Following multiple POVs, we follow the main story between Wilbur and Tommy, brothers who during their childhood and adolescence begin to show superpowers, one a pyro, one that can grow plants... and there are many others just like them, but where are they all? Soon their question is answered when their father, Phil, says they are being sent to a "special school" that will help them learn how to control their abilities and be normal people again. But when they arrive it is quick to see that this place is not at all a safe haven for children with similar powers to their own, in fact, it's a laboratory, and the kids they meet, friends, allies, and enemies alike have been trapped for most of their lives. And the head doctor has no intention of ever letting them go.

If that entices you... please step forward and click the link below, and begin to read. Remember to leave kudos and comments, and come back to this blog with thoughts and questions! Jay and myself are always happy to talk about this passion project!

Official TEFFPA Story

[ranburgular]

Flowers and Firepower

Written with @vampyr-starr

Read on ao3

Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3

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‘You know, if I had to get stuck with some kind of superpower for my whole life, why couldn’t it at least be useful?

The least it could do would be to make me a superhero, saving the day with millions of women after me, not summon thorns and shit whenever I get pissed off. My arm is still kinda sore from that one. And the same goes for Will with his powers too, you’d think he’d be all cool, but no, he’s just a sulking motherfu-’

“Are you finished writing your angsty poetry over there?” Wilbur asked, an air of boredom in his tone. The rubber ball he’d been bouncing against the ceiling continued thudding rhythmically, much to Tommy’s annoyance.

“Oh shut it!” Tommy turned to shout at his brother, slamming his journal shut. “And for your information, it is not poetry!”

"Oh, sure, sure." Wilbur said sarcastically. 

“You just don’t appreciate talking about one’s feelings, Wilbur! They call me an empathetic genius for a reason!”

“Name one person who calls you that.” Wilbur laughed.

“Well- that’s not important.” Tommy said quickly. “The point is that maybe if you talked about your feelings more, you’d get more women.”

“Oh, you’re one to talk.”

“I’ve got women lined up around the block to date me, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“That’s possibly the stupidest thing I've ever heard.”

"You're stupid!" 

"Very creative. Maybe you should take up poetry after all." 

Wilbur turned to Tommy with a smug smirk on his face, when suddenly it faded as quickly as it came. The ball he'd been bouncing fell to the floor, rolling away and hitting the wall.

“Tommy-” Wilbur warned. Tommy felt his stomach plummet, freezing in dread as he looked down at his chair. Vines had crept up through the floorboards, hugging the chair legs like they were the only thing saving the plant from death. A fair thing to do, Tommy thought, considering how many other plants had perished after being uprooted from the floor around here. Slowly, breaking the paralysis that had temporarily gripped him, he shook his head, dropping to the floor and trying to pull them up.

“Tommy, stop.” Wilbur warned, about five seconds too late. As soon as the first plant came up from the floor, a sharp pang flooded Tommy’s chest, like it was his body being ripped from the ground. He clapped a hand over his mouth to muffle the scream, dropping the rest of the intrusive vines to the floor. 

“Shut up!” Wilbur hissed, quickly moving over to Tommy to provide assistance. Tommy shot him a glare, shaking his head. 

“Can you just-” Tommy took a deep breath, he shouldn’t be nervous, he’d felt this many times before and gotten through it. “Can you burn them?”

Wilbur paused, looking at the floor, conflicted. “...Are you sure you can handle that now?”

Tommy nodded. “Yeah, just- just do it already.”

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Wilbur sighed. He knelt down next to the unwanted plants and took a deep breath, preparing himself. Flames flew from his fingertips, immediately catching the vines on fire, withering them away. Immediately, a horrid burning filled Tommy's entire body. It took everything in him to not scream, clapping his hand over his mouth again just in case. Tears filled his eyes, and he grit his teeth, trying to ride out the pain. 

"Almost done…" Wilbur muttered, trying to burn away the base of the plants as quickly as he could without catching the floor aflame. Tommy nodded quickly, digging his nails into the back of his hand as the burning pain only became more severe. It was times like this that he absolutely despised his gift. Sure, it was nice to be able to grow the best garden in the neighborhood with little effort, but the cons far outweighed the pros. Uncontrollably growing thistles was not a gift that anyone would ever want, but it was an unfortunate part of the power that Tommy was saddled with.

"I'm done." Wilbur said, the flames retreating back into his hand, backing away to give Tommy a bit of space. "Are you ok?" 

"How the fuck do you think I am?" Tommy asked, pulling his hands away from his mouth and wiping away the tears building in his eyes. 

"I know you're hurt, just… I don't know. Thought it would help." Wilbur shrugged. "Do you need water or anything?" 

"Nah, I'll be fine." Tommy said, wincing as he slowly got to his feet. 

Wilbur looked unconvinced, but knew better than to push Tommy after a bout like that. He walked back to where he was sitting, eyeing his younger brother every few moments. 

Tommy rubbed his neck and limbs, the burning hadn’t faded yet and he was scared if he wasn’t attentive enough something would catch fire. His head began to spin more every moment he was upright, he shakily moved back to the ground and didn’t bother moving the withered plants away, mentally apologizing to them. They would have looked beautiful in his garden, if he had more control, why didn’t he have more control? Wilbur could basically do whatever he wanted with his fire—but any random spat of emotion Tommy felt spiked up left him weak and pained. He let his eyes begin to flutter shut, the best option was to try and get some rest to regain energy. 

The universe, however, had other plans. 

“Boys I heard—��� Phil had come barging in without knocking, which had been something Wilbur had pleaded for since both of them hit puberty. Phil said that with two superpowered boys in the house, knocking was even less of a question with their growth into young adulthood. “What the hell happened in here?” 

Tommy had no more energy to speak, he only winced at how loud he was talking. 

“Tommy and I…” Wilbur sighed. “It was my fault, I set him off and I had to burn some of his plants.” 

“WHAT?” Phil exploded, running into the room completely and inspecting Tommy on the floor. He knew the strain that growing plants had on Tommy, sure, Phil had let him let out energy in a healthy way of growing in the garden when his levels of excitement were too high for a safe environment in the house, but he still worried when Tommy got too weak. “Tommy, can you hear me? Blink twice if you’re in pain.” 

The pain had decently subsided, so he only blinked once and cleared his throat, urging his voice to come. “I really am fine, Phil… Wilbur helped a lot.” 

Phil looked disbelieving. “He could have hurt you.” 

“I would have been hurt more if he didn’t burn the plants.” Tommy defended, sitting straight up. Phil had the habit of pushing blame on either boy, but mostly Wilbur. Maybe it was because Tommy was the youngest, or the weakest, or the one with the least control. But it irritated Tommy when he blamed Wilbur for helping. 

“You should have called for me.” 

“But Wilbur was right here! He helped.” 

“Did he?” 

Wilbur shot out of his seat. “I so fucking did help!” 

Phil turned. “Watch your mouth.” 

“It’s not fair.” Wilbur snapped, the room felt like it was getting a little warmer, Tommy felt some of the wood in the house begin to groan. He slowly got to his feet and inched toward the door. 

“Young man, if you wish to discuss anything with me, you do not use childish statements like that.” 

Wilbur looked absolutely furious. Some small sparks glinted off his fingertips as he moved them wildly for indication between himself and Phil. “I’m not using childish statements, you’re literally being un-fucking-fair!” 

Phil took a deep breath through his nose, he turned to Tommy. “Tommy, please leave the room, I need to have a talk with your brother.” 

Tommy didn’t want to ask any more questions. He walked out of the room, silently apologizing to Wilbur and the plants again. He went downstairs, holding onto the banister for support, going to the backyard and his safe spot. The garden. 

His garden was a safe haven of different plants he'd grown. He honestly felt as if could sit in it for hours on end and never get bored. Beautiful, vibrant flowers surrounded him, always slightly leaning towards him as if to welcome him as a friend. Tommy appreciated that. Friends were in short supply in his everyday life. 

But whatever, right? He didn’t need friends. He had his brother, the admiring words of passerby checking out his garden, and a fucking superpower! How many other teenagers could say that? Not a lot, Tommy imagined. He thought back to when his brother and him had first realized they had powers, he remembered Wilbur taking his hands and saying they’d rule the world together, no one could stop them. Tommy had smiled as wide as possible, he couldn’t help but remember he hadn’t smiled like that in a very long time. Superpowers weren’t all they were cracked up to be… he felt that faint pain in his chest again, as if the vines from earlier were still crying out in pain. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, taking in the scent of his garden. 

After about ten minutes of steadily gaining his energy back, Tommy heard the faint sound of a door slamming and the creak of a window opening above him. 

"You can come back in now, Tommy." Wilbur muttered, a cloud of anger settled on his face. As the air inside the room escaped, Tommy couldn’t help but notice it warped with heat as it rose into the sky, reminding him of when an oven gets opened. He opened his mouth as if he was about to say something, but stopped, electing to just get up and head inside.

As Tommy walked up to their room, he made the mistake of grabbing the doorknob without checking the temperature of it first. Almost before he could register it, a searing pain shot across his hand, flickering up the inside of his wrist and arm.

“SHIT! Son of a bitch- WILBUR!” Tommy shouted, cradling his injured hand close to his body. The door all but flung itself open, Wilbur holding the brass handle like nothing was wrong. 

“Are you ok? What happened?” He asked, the anger on his face quickly giving way to concern. 

“You heating up the room burned the fuckin’ doorknob, idiot!” Tommy hissed. 

“Oh- sorry.” Wilbur said, quickly taking his hand off the doorknob and ushering Tommy into their now sauna of a room. “Are you alright?”

Looking over his hand, Tommy shrugged. “It’s red. Not blistering though.” 

Wilbur nodded, glancing over it. “You think it needs calendula?”

“What do you think?” Tommy asked sarcastically, already sitting down on his bed and closing his eyes, focusing on envisioning the plant in his mind’s eye. Burns were common living with a brother who could literally summon fire, so from an early age, Tommy had put a lot of effort into being able to summon plants with healing properties. For the most part, he liked to think he had it down to a science, that one time he’d conjured a cactus in his injured palm notwithstanding. 

…Fine, maybe it had happened a few times. What mattered was that right now, a small weight was forming in his hand, roots were beginning to spread across his palm, and Tommy opened his eyes to see two flowers with vibrant orange petals in his hand. Gingerly removing them from his palm, Tommy began picking the petals and laying them across his injured hand, careful not to crush them and cause him more pain. 

“What’d you and Phil talk about?” 

Wilbur sighed, sitting down on his bed with an irritated huff. “He said I can’t hurt you like that whenever you lose control of your powers, like it's my fault we can't find another way to fix it. Says that if we both can't control our powers, we'll be a danger to everyone we meet or some shit like that." As he spoke, he began fidgeting with his jacket, giving Tommy a clue about the anxiety likely rising in his chest. "He's just a cunt, y'know? He doesn't get what it's like." 

Tommy nodded in agreement. "Wish one day he'd wake up with powers he never asked for, see how he likes it. I reckon he'd tell someone about it then."

Letting out a weak laugh, Wilbur looked down at his hands as they tugged at the buttons of his jacket. His lips pressed together as if he was preparing to say something, then took a deep breath and spoke. 

"Tommy- you and I, I don't think anyone can understand us. Not just because of the powers- we're different. We always have been." 

Tommy paused, then nodded slowly. "I guess I get what you mean. " 

"We're lucky to have each other, man. We get it, we get all of this shit, you know?" Wilbur asked, finally looking up at his brother. "No matter what happens, we'll always have each other." 

That was a truer statement than Tommy would've liked to have admitted. Always shunned as the weirdos throughout school, Wilbur and Tommy had hung out whenever they could. They had made up their own schoolyard games, including any other outcasts left out of everyone's else's game of tag or kickball. Wilbur always brought some great story to the game that made it interesting, and Tommy brought the "yes-and" energy, as his brother liked to call it. Throughout their lives so far, all they had ever truly needed to feel at home was each other. 

Tommy gave one last nod, meeting his brother's eyes. " Right. No matter what." 

[ranburgular]

After working on this for almost a year and a half, I finally decided to post it! If you like superpower fics, medical whump, and found family with a bittersweet ending, please consider giving it a read.

[ranburgular]

Into the Lion’s Den

Written with @vampyr-starr

Read on ao3

Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3

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Tommy was in the middle of a forest.

Odd, considering he’d never seen more than five natural trees in the same general area before. 

He looked around, hearing the wind whisper through the leaves, making the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. He swallowed, searching for any signs of life.

“Oi! Anyone out there?” He shouted, walking through the endless grove. No answer was given to him, though Tommy was now suddenly aware that he was now being watched. 

What?

Hair still standing on end, Tommy whirled around, looking through the trees. “Can anyone hear me?!” 

Silence.

Silence.

…

A hushed gasp.

“Tommy…” It called, a vague sense of desperation in its voice. Tommy jumped away, feeling his heartbeat suddenly shoot up to levels that were definitely unhealthy. Thistles grew in a rough circle around him in response to the shock of fear, but Tommy absolutely could not bring himself to care.

“Who’s there?!” He demanded, nails digging lines into his palm. He could feel the light feeling of blood trickling down his fingers, but it didn’t seem like it mattered right now.

“Tommy… Tommy…” The voice murmured, sounding more and more anguished. 

“What the hell do you want?!” Tommy’s voice cracked as he screamed at the watching void around him.

“Tommy… Save us.” 

Tommy stopped in his tracks. “What?”

“Save us… save us…” The trees were beginning to pick up speed with the wind, groaning as they bent. 

“Save you from what?” Tommy asked, the trees around him growing vines in response to his panic. 

“Tommy… save us…” The voice cut off suddenly, the wind picking up to near hurricane-level speeds. If anything other than Tommy was alive in that forest, it wasn't anymore, almost certainly being swept away by the wind. Shielding his eyes, Tommy grit his teeth, dropping to his knees to steady himself. Suddenly, every tree in the forest crashed down.

With a scream, Tommy woke up.

“Hey- hey, you good, man?” Tommy gasped, sitting up and looking around the room, seeing walls and wood floors in place of forestry, and hearing Wilbur’s voice instead of some creepy forest ghost. He met Wilbur’s eyes, his brother looking legitimately worried. 

Tommy swallowed hard, nodding. “Yeah, yeah. Just a bad dream, y’know.” 

As his eyes adjusted to the real world, he noticed a suitcase on the floor, half filled with t-shirts, pants, and packs of extra batteries. Tommy furrowed his eyebrows, pointing to it. “What’s that?”

Wilbur cast a glance over to the bag, shrugging. “Phil said we’re going on a week-long trip. Apparently it was some kind of summer vacation surprise.”

“Pretty terrible surprise, if you ask me.” Tommy scoffed. “And what’s with all the batteries?” 

“Phil says we’re not allowed to bring phones or anything, so I need batteries for my Walkman.”

“He’s forcing you to dig up that old-ass piece of technology?” Tommy asked with an eye roll. “It’s practically a fossil.”

Wilbur elbowed Tommy in the shoulder as he stood up, causing his brother to yelp and toss a pillow at him. 

“You better get packed too, Phil says we’re leaving at noon.” Wilbur advised, going back to packing his bag. Tommy looked over at the clock hanging on the wall and saw that it was already 9:30. With a dramatic sigh, he rolled out of bed, grabbing a duffel bag from their closet. 

“Where could Phil even want to take us? He’s not the type for camps or anything actually fun.” Tommy muttered as he began to pack.

“Don’t know. Maybe he’ll surprise us.” Wilbur offered. “Maybe it’s actually a ruse and he’s taking us out to the middle of the forest to kill us and make it look like we ran away.”

Tommy rolled his eyes. “You listen to too much true crime stuff. If it were me on those shows, I would just simply not be killed.”

“It helps you be prepared, dumbass.”

“Oh, look at me, I'm Wil-bah and I listen to stories about people getting offed because I'm a paranoid old ma- HEY!” Tommy coughed as Wilbur playfully whacked him in the side with his bag, laughing.

“I am not a paranoid old man. I’ll meet you downstairs, we should eat before we go.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Tommy said, sticking his tongue out at Wilbur as he left the room. He got to thinking about his dream again, the haunting cries of “Save us” stuck in his brain, still chilling him to the bone. Who needed him? Was it someone real, or just weird dream stuff? Tommy was not one for discussions like that, and shoved off those thoughts to the best of his ability while packing his bag. 

Getting his things together didn’t take as long as he’d first thought, as it turned out, and he was done before an hour had passed. Before he knew it, his things were in the trunk of the car, and he was in the backseat behind Phil. Never one for silence, Tommy began what ended up being a very lengthy monologue about how he would ask out a woman. No one else really listened, Tommy could see Wilbur had headphones in for half of it, but he really didn't care very much. He was probably annoying Phil, and that thought made him grin. After about five hours, Phil turned onto a gravel road surrounded by thick birch trees.

"We're not far now." He said. 

“You never really told us where we were off to.” Wilbur pointed out.

Phil paused, then sighed. “I was sort of putting off telling you guys. I knew you wouldn’t be happy.”

Warning bells immediately sounded in Tommy’s mind. “Where are we going?”

“Well-... it’s like a doctor.” Phil admitted.

“What?!” Wilbur nearly hit the car roof with how high he jumped in his seat. 

“It’s not just a doctor!” Phil quickly added. “It’s like a camp, a school, and a hospital all in one.”

“We’re not sick though!” Wilbur yelled, anger flooding into his voice. “Phil- what is this?” 

“Wilbur- I know you think that. But you are.” Phil sounded downtrodden, like he was resigned to this conclusion no matter what. “You can’t control your powers, and Tommy can’t either. You’re going to hurt someone if you can’t get this under control.” 

“So you send us off to jail without telling us?!” Tommy jumped in, just as enraged as Wilbur was. “Are you insane?!”

“I’m trying to be a good father here.” Phil snapped. “I don’t know what to do with you two anymore.”

“Oh, so you just ship us off to God knows where! Fantastic!” Wilbur growled. Tommy noticed that the dense trees on the side of the road were leaning in closer to them, and sparks were starting to fly from Wilbur’s fingertips. Phil apparently noticed these things too, speeding up the car.

“This wasn't a snap decision, you know. I’ve already paid for three months of care. You’re going, end of discussion.”

“But Phil-” Tommy interjected.

“END OF DISCUSSION.” Phil shouted, gritting his teeth. Wilbur fell back in his seat, looking more irritated than Tommy had ever seen in his life. Not that he blamed him at all, thoughts ran through Tommy’s head about what this place could possibly be. A prison or an asylum? Or maybe it was like the comics, and they were going to an actual school for superheroes. Tommy doubted it though. What kind of school didn’t have any advertising anywhere at all and was located in the middle of nowhere? If he couldn’t scream, Tommy opted to seethe in silence, trying to focus and grow a pussywillow bush inside of Phil’s car engine. He could probably do it. Maybe. If he tried hard enough.

After ten hellishly long minutes, the trees began to clear, and several concrete buildings came into view. They looked like guard stations, which made Tommy’s blood run cold. Guards were either there to keep others out or people in, and by the location, it didn’t look like a lot of people were stumbling upon this place. The buildings got larger, storage trailers, then what looked like dormitories, then finally the centerpiece of it all: a huge stone building, at least five stories tall. The sign in front was painted a faded green, and read

The Exdee Foundation for Powered Adolescents

Training up youth since 1973

Tommy felt sick.

“Here we are.” Phil muttered, parking the car on the side of the road. There wasn’t a parking lot here, which immediately struck Tommy as strange. Where did the employees park? Where were the other cars? He looked around, trying to make sense of this place as Wilbur continued to give Phil a death stare. Phil shot him one right back as he unlocked the trunk to get out the boys' bags. 

“Hello there!” Tommy jumped, turning around to see a man wearing a lab coat over a dress shirt with a green tie. He was grinning much wider than was normal for the average person, it sent a chill down Tommy’s spine. Phil, however, seemed to be more apathetic than unnerved as he shook the man’s hand. 

“Hey there. You’re the doctor they said we’d meet, yeah?”

Wilbur and Tommy shot each other a look of astonishment, how long had Phil been planning this? 

The man in the lab coat nodded. “Yeah, I'm the head of the center.” He turned to the boys with the same strange grin. “You can call me Dream.”

“Stupid name if you ask me.” Tommy muttered, earning him a muffled laugh from Wilbur and an elbow in the arm from Phil. The man–Dream’s–smile didn’t let up.

“It’s alright, I know how the new arrivals can be. I’ve seen worse.” He gave Phil what could be classified as a knowing look, and Phil smiled weakly in return. “And I assume you’ve all gotten your chances to say goodbye?”

Tommy paused, looking back to Phil. "Aren't you supposed to come in with us?" 

Phil nodded, much to Tommy's surprise. "I thought I'd be seeing more of the place."

"Well- we try to keep interaction with parents to a minimum in there." Dream explained. "It can be upsetting to other patients." 

Phil nodded, Tommy glanced at Wilbur and saw that his brows were furrowed in concern and near shock, he met Tommy's eyes and shook his head. 

"I'm not going in there." He announced, crossing his arms. 

Phil sighed. "Wilbur, I'm not taking you home."

"I will walk home if I have to!" Wilbur shouted, backing away. "I'm not going in there!" 

"Wilbur, you won't make it past the treeline." Dream interjected calmly. "The guards will catch you, and your welcome here won't be as pleasant as it should be." 

"Are you threatening me?!" Wilbur hissed, suddenly stepping closer to Dream and pushing him back.

"Wilbur!" Phil grabbed him, pulling him back and down to his level. "You're going to this school. You will do whatever this man asks of you. You're going to get better here, Wilbur."  

"Like hell I will!" Tommy watched in horror as Wilbur pushed away from his father, taking off running for the trees. Phil nearly started to run after him, but Dream stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. 

"Don't bother. He'll be back soon." 

Phil nodded, trying to hide how much he was seething. "I'm so sorry about him. I hope he doesn't keep giving you trouble."

"In my experience, they both will. But that's alright." Dream laughed. "They always learn." 

Tommy quickly looked back to where Wilbur had run, and he was nowhere to be seen. Truth be told, even though every muscle in his body was screaming at him to run, to get away from whatever the hell this place was, he couldn't move. It was like a nightmare, one he couldn't wake up from. His throat was too dry to talk, and he bet that the slightest gust of wind could knock him over. Phil and Dream shook hands with a smile, and the next thing Tommy knew, he was watching his father get back in his car and drive away. 

Tommy swallowed hard. He hadn't even said goodbye.

A hand clapped him on the shoulder, causing him to jump. He looked up to see Dream's steady smile, still too wide to be real. All his teeth perfectly straight white chiclets, a grin from a nightmare. 

"While we wait for your brother, I'll show you around. How does that sound, Tommy?" Dream asked. 

Still too scared to talk, Tommy nodded, picking up his and Wilbur's duffel bags. Dream led him towards the front doors, keeping his hand on his shoulder.

"We'll take your bags to be checked first, then they'll be taken to your rooms." Dream explained. "You'll have a roommate, by the way." 

Tommy's heart jumped and he swallowed, finally somewhat ready to ask a question. 

"Can it be Wilbur?" 

Dream laughed, shaking his head. "You'll be in different sections of the facility. His power is pyrokinesis, correct?"

Tommy wrinkled his nose. "His power is what?" 

"Pyrokinesis." Dream repeated with another small laugh, it made Tommy feel a little stupid, like he should know it already. "It means that he can control fire."

"Oh. Then yeah." Tommy nodded.

"He'll be staying with the other psychokinetics, and you'll be in the NK group." 

"NK?" Tommy asked, feeling so lost. 

"Not kinetic. So many patients here can move something with their minds, so we divided the facility between them and those whose power is something different." Dream explained. 

"Do we still get to see each other?" Tommy asked.

"If you're well behaved and earn privileges, you'll get more unstructured free time outside and be able to see him." 

Something clicked in Tommy's brain, and he rolled his eyes. "You're gonna use him as a reward for me, aren't you?" 

Dream raised an eyebrow, his face darkening for just a moment, his glittering teeth seeming more sinister than before. "Well, would that work on you?" 

Tommy thought for a moment but kept his mouth shut, deciding that not answering was the best course of action. Dream seemed satisfied with the silence, leading him into a door labeled "Staff only". 

"What are we doing in here?" Tommy asked, looking back as the door swung shut. 

"Just a bag check and shower, standard procedure here so no one hurts anyone else or causes a lice infestation." Dream stated. It sounded simple enough to Tommy, though the shower part made him nervous. He was not keen on taking off his clothes in some weird school in the middle of nowhere, even if it was just to shower. Dream led him to a table with two attendants behind it, taking Wilbur's bag with Tommy's and setting both on the table. 

"They'll take your bags to your room after this, and the shower is just through this door." Dream explained, still as calm as ever. Before Tommy could go inside however, Dream snapped his fingers, as if he'd just remembered something. He grabbed a folded set of clothes and a towel from beside the bag inspection table, handing them to Tommy.

"Change into these after your shower, we'll have your clothes washed for later." He instructed. Even more confused now, Tommy nodded, taking the clothes. Dream smiled, opening the door to the showers for Tommy. 

"Try not to take too long!" Dream said in a lighthearted tone, closing the door. 

"...Weirdo." Tommy muttered after a pause. He took a look around, there was a row of ten showers lined up against the wall, a porcelain wall a few inches thick divided each shower for privacy. A thin curtain, looking like it was covered in mildew, could be pulled in front if someone else was in the room. Lice shampoo and old bars of soap sat on the stands in the shower, Tommy grimaced in mild disgust, but it was nothing he hadn't seen before at a summer camp or a school locker room. At least there wasn't anyone in here. 

Tommy waited to take his clothes off until he was in the shower stall, safe from any creeps who might be watching somehow. He hadn't seen any cameras in here, but he didn't trust anyone or anything in this place farther than he could throw them. Pulling the curtain shut, Tommy pushed his clothes out of the shower, and pressed a button to turn on the water. 

It was practically antarctic levels of cold.

Tommy yelped as he jumped back, a sharp pain going through his shoulder as he accidentally slammed into the wall. Hissing in pain, he moved as far away from the freezing water as he could, looking for any way to change the temperature. It was then he realized that unlike most showers, this one didn't have a dial to make the water hotter, just a small metal button. 

"Damnit." Tommy cursed, wondering why anyone in their right mind would make a shower like this. The way he was positioned, pressed against the back wall, he’d have to go through the water again to get out anyway. With a groan, Tommy quickly dipped his hair into the harsh stream of water, hopefully getting it wet enough to fool Dream into thinking he’d taken an actual shower. He decided to forgo the shampoo, he knew there was no way he had lice, and he did not want to stay in the icy shower from hell any longer than he had to. Gritting his teeth, Tommy darted through the water, trying to ignore the freezing pinpricks. Sliding to a stop outside the shower, he quickly grabbed his towel, drying off as best he could. He looked at his old clothes he’d left on the ground, only now realizing that the water had trickled out of the shower, soaking them. 

“The universe hates me personally and I hope it stubs its toe on lava.” Tommy muttered harshly, grabbing the clothes Dream had given him and pulling the white t-shirt over his head. The fabric felt cheap, like they hadn’t even had the budget to buy good boring shirts in bulk. The sweatpants and jacket felt much the same, and Tommy rolled his eyes. Scratching at the tag that rubbed at the back of his neck, he dried his hair off as best he could, grabbed the damp baseball shirt and jeans from the floor, and walked out. 

Tommy was greeted by Dream, still standing outside the door and still smiling that creepy as hell smile. 

"Glad to see you're cooperating! Just one more thing, then we'll be on our way."

Tommy raised an eyebrow. "What thing?"

"It's nothing to worry about. Just put your clothes in the bin and follow me." 

Suspicious, Tommy did so, keeping an eye out for anyone with a needle. If this thing involved shots, Tommy was 100% out. 

Dream led him to a plastic chair in front of a mirror, and gestured for Tommy to sit. Tommy did not. 

"What's going on here?" He asked, backing away.

Dream sighed. "Just standard procedure here, a safety precaution to stop the spread of lice."

"I don't have lice!" Tommy shouted, hands flinging to his hair in defense, quickly walking back to where he came from, when he was stopped by another doctor. 

“Even if you don’t, we can never be too careful.” Dream said. "Now, sit down before anything bad has to happen."

Tommy sized the doctor up, and noticed the taser and what looked like a baton strapped to his side, as well as a pouch marked with a red cross. Tommy swallowed, slowly inching toward the chair, Dream encouraging him with a strange smile. He managed to sit down, his foot tapping the floor, were they just going to inspect him? He’d had that happen a few times at school. He’d be fine with that, he actually enjoyed the lice inspections at school. The second doctor walked up behind him and Tommy felt physical repulsion once he brandished a pair of hair clippers. He stared at Dream, begging for him to advocate that he was lice free. 

“Don’t! I don’t have lice!” Tommy shouted, trying to guard his head. He didn’t want this, he didn’t want this. 

Dream’s smile turned into a frown, which was somehow more disturbing than his constant smiling. His features twisted strangely because of it, like a very terrible waxy painting. “Tommy, there’s no need to be difficult. We only want everyone to be safe, specifically, we want you to be safe and comfortable, and trust me, lice is not comfortable.” 

Tommy swallowed hard, he glanced in the mirror. Maybe he wouldn’t look too bad without hair. He stilled himself and nodded. “Sorry.” 

Dream’s face returned to a grin. “Fantastic! We can go quick, our friendly doctor is an expert.” 

It was over quickly, but it was painful. Dream was an ugly liar, this doctor seemed like he'd never cut hair before in his life. Phil used to cut Tommy and Wilbur’s hair, and this was nothing like it. The clippers were dull, but cut when the doctor pressed down too hard on Tommy’s head, they didn’t even clip all of his hair the shortest it could go first, they just tried to shave it all away. Tommy tried to look away from the mirror, trying to focus on anything else other than his hair slowly falling to the floor and blood trickling from his scalp. Dream, however, had other plans. He shook his head and walked up to Tommy, took his head in his hands, standing behind him, and forcing him to look forward into the glass. 

“If you close your eyes, we’ll have to force them open.” Dream hissed, the first hint of darkness Tommy had heard truly come from him.

Tommy nodded, but the pain from several cuts all over his head hurt like nothing else. Soon though, it was over, as if it had never happened, the hair on the ground didn’t even look like Tommy’s. Dream cleaned up any blood and ruffled his hand over the peach fuzz blonde over Tommy’s head. 

“Lice free indeed.” Dream smiled brightly, his white teeth glimmering like diamonds in the artificial lighting. “How do you feel, Tommy?” 

Tommy felt the weight in that question. “I feel… better than before.” 

"Perfect." Dream smiled. "Now, let's go meet your roommate!" 

He walked out of a door to their right, and Tommy followed hesitantly. They were in a hallway, one that didn't go very far before it led to two doors on opposite walls. Dream led him through the left one, scanning a key card to open it, and Tommy blinked as pure white walls all but blinded him. Evenly spaced doors lined each wall, no color or personality anywhere to be found. Tommy could hear the faint sounds of talking from inside some of the rooms, at least there weren't any sounds of torture or screaming, yet. Dream stopped at the seventh door on the right, knocking. 

"Come in!" The voice inside chirped, sounding rather cheerful. Tommy couldn't hide a scowl, the last thing he needed was some sunshine-and-rainbows roommate telling him that everything would be fine. Because it wouldn't. Nothing would be fine as long as he was in this place.

Dream opened the door to show Tommy a white room with a bed and a desk on each wall, a door leading to a bathroom, and a boy with closely cut brown hair sitting on a bed, playing with what appeared to be a snap circuit toy for kids. 

"Tubbo, meet your new roommate. This is Tommy." Dream gestured to Tommy. The boy on the bed smiled, getting up. 

"Nice to meet you!"

Tommy shot him a glare. "Hi."

"Your bag will be here shortly." Dream explained. "Until then, I'll let you two get to know each other." 

Tubbo nodded, Tommy just moved into the room with one last glare shot towards Dream for good measure. The farther away he was from this creep, the better. With one last smile, Dream shut the door.

"So, what's your power?" Tubbo asked, sitting back down on his bed.

"What's it to you?" Tommy responded in a harsh tone, crossing his arms.

"Just wanted to know. Mine is that anything I dream, it becomes real." 

That snapped Tommy out of his bad mood, blinking in shock.

"You can what?"

"Yeah!" Tubbo exclaimed. "I've dreamed up a lot of stuff, it scares the doctors sometimes." 

"...And I gotta share a room with you?" Tommy asked, suddenly a little nervous. 

"Oh, I don't sleep in here. Once a week, I go and sleep in my own spot in the doctor's area so it's safe." Tubbo explained.

"What about the rest of the time?" 

Tubbo laughed, it sounded slightly forced. “I don’t sleep the rest of the time.”

“What?!” Tommy wrinkled his nose in a strange sort of surprise. Tubbo laughed again, nodding.

“Yeah, they give me some pills every night, and I’m good for a week or two. Pretty cool, huh?”

Tommy stared at him blankly, confused and shocked. 

“...What the hell?”

“What?”

“You have to realize there’s something fucked up about what you just said, right?” 

Tubbo paused, then just shrugged. "Sure. I think it's almost time for dinner, I'll show you where it is."

"I'm staying here. I want my bag." Tommy said, crossing his arms and sitting down on his bed.

"They'll just leave it in here, and you're going to want food. Come on!" Tubbo got up, motioning for Tommy to follow, and left the room. After a few moments of debating whether or not to follow him, Tommy grumbled to himself, getting up and following Tubbo out. 

Tubbo led them down a long hallway lined with more doors that eventually spat them out into a huge room, painted white like everything else in this place. Couches and chairs sat along the walls, a couple dozen kids who looked anywhere from six to close to adulthood sat around, talking to each other. Some of the younger ones lay on the floor, reading picture books or coloring, while others played a game of what appeared to be tag. Everyone wore the same outfit of a white shirt, gray sweatpants, and had their head shaved. 

Tubbo elbowed Tommy, breaking him out of his trance. "I've got someone I want you to meet."

"They a weirdo too?" Tommy asked, a small laugh in his voice. Tubbo nodded.

"Everyone here is."

Tubbo walked over to a couch in the farthest corner of the room, where one boy sat. He was tall, even when seated, he looked like he was well over six feet. His shaved hair was dark, he looked at the floor like he was having a staring contest with it, and he gripped a notebook, not looking at or attempting to interact with anyone else. Tubbo sat next to him, and the boy didn't react. Tubbo didn't seem to care.

"This is Ranboo. He's not much of a talker, but he's nice when he's in the mood." 

The dark haired boy glanced up at Tommy and promptly looked back down, looking like a scared rabbit. Tommy wrinkled his nose.

"Why doesn't he talk?" 

"One of his treatments in TC. He doesn't like to talk about it." Tubbo explained. 

"Huh. What's TC?" Tommy asked.

To his surprise, Ranboo opened his notebook to the first page, showed it to Tommy, and tapped a sentence written in shaky cursive that Tommy had to squint to read.

"TC: the treatment center. Some of us call it trauma central."

Tommy laughed, slapping his knee. There was no way a place nicknamed 'trauma central' could exist in here, even if it did look terrible.

"Oh yeah, hilarious, let's show this to the new guy, freak him out more. Real fuckin' funny." 

Tubbo laughed a little. "That's not a joke." 

Ranboo nodded, and slowly, Tommy stopped laughing. 

"You're, uh- you're serious?" 

Ranboo nodded again, Tubbo leaned back against the couch.

"Everyone in here has some experience in TC, and it's not nice. We don't bring it up, and no one talks about their experience if they can help it." 

Tommy took in the statement, a deep sense of dread settling in his stomach. Something inside him twisted, like his insides had been replaced with snakes, wriggling around and moving against each other over and over again. 

"Does everyone go to the TC?" 

"Everyone does at some point. You might not for another few days, they have to do some tests, make sure no one was lying about your power, and that you don't have any huge medical issues or anything. Easy enough." Tubbo explained this like he was talking about applying for a job and not being tested at a government facility that definitely wasn't legal. The snakes that had been winding around each other in Tommy's stomach began tying knots, and before he could stop himself, vines crept up from the floor, tying themselves to his feet. A growling noise of frustration escaped from the back of his throat, and he tried to think of ways to hide it before someone noticed.

Unfortunately, someone did.

Tubbo gasped, pointing at it as Tommy hastily tried to break the vines and just sit down. "That's cool! I've always wanted to see plants like that." He commented happily. 

Ranboo opened his book, quickly writing something down and turning the book to Tommy.

"They're beautiful. I like the flowers."

"There aren't flowers on the vines, you- uh…" Tommy's voice trailed off as he looked at his feet, only to see bright pink flowers blooming from the vines. This was a rare occurrence. 

Ranboo wrote something else down in his book. "Can you grow alliums?" 

"Of course I can, I could grow anything I wanted to." Tommy said defensively, though unsure. His ability to summon plants was shaky during stressful situations, and he didn't want to look like an idiot in front of the people he'd just met. 

"Can I have one? They're my favorite." Ranboo wrote, actually looking a little hopeful. He'd stopped staring at the floor, and a small smile threatened to come to his lips.

Tommy paused, then nodded. "Fine, yeah, if it makes you happy." He closed his eyes, focusing on the palm of his hand, and thought hard about alliums. Their shape, their size, their color, every detail he could think of. Soon enough, he felt a familiar pressure on his hand, and heard a gasp from Tubbo. 

When he opened his eyes, three gigantic, gorgeous alliums had sprouted from his palm. Ranboo looked overjoyed, more alive than ever, and Tubbo looked like Tommy had just done a neat party trick.

"Yeah, yeah, I know, I'm the best." Tommy grinned, digging the roots from his hand as painlessly as he could manage, and handing each of them one. "Enjoy the gifts of Big T!"

“Hey!” Tommy saw Ranboo drop his eyes and Tubbo turn quickly to look behind Tommy as they heard a new voice. Tommy glanced back, seeing an orderly approaching them, looking less than pleased.

“What?” He asked, scowling at the interruption.

“Doing things like… that in the rec room is prohibited.” The orderly said, scowling right back at Tommy.

“Tough luck, what are you going t-”

A harsh slap hit Tommy’s face before he even knew what happened, and despite the fact he wasn’t some stick thin kid who the wind could knock over, he went tumbling to the ground, his vision swimming with tears. Breathing raggedly, he blinked them back, trying to get his bearings. He’d been in schoolyard fights before, but nothing had ever rendered him speechless and motionless with just one hit. He waited for people to shout, to scream, maybe attack the man with one of their powers- but nothing. No one seemed to care. Not even Tubbo and Ranboo, Tommy noticed, who had already handed the orderly their flowers. Making sure any remaining tears wouldn’t spill from his eyes, Tommy sat up, getting to his feet and cupping his face.

“Give me the flower.” The orderly demanded, malice in his voice.

“Or what?” Tommy asked, hating the slight wobble in his voice. The orderly just raised an eyebrow, extending a hand to accept the flower. After about a ten second standoff, Tommy finally looked away, handing the flower to the man. He simply walked out of the room, taking the flowers with him. Tommy whirled around, facing his new friends, rage filling his chest.

“Why didn’t you do anything?!” He shouted, flinging his arm out for emphasis. Ranboo flinched (Absolute pussy, Tommy thought), but Tubbo stood his ground, looking apologetic but calm.

“Fighting back doesn’t do anything but get you hurt.” He explained in a sensible tone that Tommy hated.

“You can’t just let them do that to us!”

Tubbo shrugged. “It’s how I’m still alive.”

Before Tommy could reply, a buzzer rang out from the wall, and the kids who’d been talking or playing got up and formed a line by a set of large double doors. Ranboo got up, walking over and doing the same, as Tubbo led Tommy over.

“Look, the thing about this place is that if you fight back, you will pay for it.” 

“Obviously.” Tommy rolled his eyes.

“Not just that. I had this one roommate who wouldn’t stop fighting, and the doctors zapped him to death in the rec room.” Tubbo explained, his calm tone never changing as he and everyone else entered yet another white room, this time one with rows of lunch tables. Everyone took a seat as Tommy tried to take Tubbo’s words in.

“They-they just killed him? In front of everyone?”

Tubbo nodded. “That’s what I heard. I used to have another friend who read minds, and she said they burned his body that afternoon.” 

“What the hell- what is wrong with this place?!” Tommy exclaimed, attempting to get up. Tubbo pulled him right back down, shushing him.

“We’re not even supposed to be talking right now. You’re lucky the food’s not here.”

Tommy snorted. “What, do I get slapped again?”

“You get solitary.”

Tommy’s face dropped. “As in, like-”

“Yeah.” Tubbo said quickly, then promptly shut up as plates of penne noodles with ground beef haphazardly thrown on top were set in front of each of them. When Tommy got his plate, he inspected it, making sure no pills or anything were hidden inside, before eating. He noticed how behind he seemed, even with his thirty second pause, everyone else seemed to be almost done by the time he got started. By the time he was halfway finished with his plate, it was grabbed out from under him by someone behind his chair. He whipped around, ready to tell them off, consequences be damned, but when he looked into their eyes… something made the words die in his throat. He slowly turned back around, looking at Tubbo, who shrugged and mouthed what looked like “Powers”.

Everyone got up, walking back out to the rec room and out into the long bedroom hallway. Tubbo was the exception, turning to walk out another door. 

“Where are you going?” Tommy called out, pausing in the rec room.

“I get to sleep tonight!” Tubbo responded cheerfully. “I’ll see you tomorrow!”

“Oh… bye.” Tommy smiled slightly, walking back out to his room. It seemed so lonely now, devoid of any laughter or speech or personality. He closed the door, seeing that his bag had indeed been dropped off. He ran to it excitedly, digging through it, but his heart sank as he only found white shirts, gray sweatpants, underwear, and another jacket. He pushed it off the bed, flopping onto it with a huff, closing his eyes.

He missed his brother. He really, really missed his brother. 

His dad too, as shocked as that made him. He missed Wilbur’s stupid songs, the shitty mac and cheese he always managed to burn, how he’d lock him out of their room as a joke… he’d give anything for this to be a nightmare and to wake up with Wilbur blaring some kind of folk punk music in his ear. He’d shout, Wilbur would laugh, and they’d go about their day in somewhere that wasn’t a goddamn prison. Before Tommy even realized it, tears were flowing down his cheeks, and he buried his face in the covers to hide it, even if no one was there. The tears turned to sobs, and he curled up into the pillow, muffling his broken cries. 

No one was coming.

No one was with him.

Tommy was really, truly alone.

As his sobs started to wear out his body, he tried to remember his brother’s voice. He remembered the time he’d been afraid to do a flip off the high dive in their neighborhood pool, and he remembered what Wilbur said.

“Aw, chin up king, I’ll be right here when you’re done! You can do it!”

“I hope so, Wilbur…” Tommy muttered as he slowly fell asleep. “I really, really hope so.”