All is Fair in War || SBI || Mafia AU

࿏ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 33 ࿏

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You have to be
Joking.

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His father was adored by everyone. He was a respectable man who held great power in the city; a respectable businessman and councilman. If only they saw who he really was behind closed doors. The horrible and abusive man. Scars from beer bottle collisions littered his skin and haunted his dreams. The brunette brushed a hand over his right arm, he had raised it to defend himself from the glass of the bottle but, instead, it embedded itself into his arm.

Toby received so many condolences after his fathers passing, the number of times he was told how good of a man Shlatt was, he wanted to barf, scream, cry... hurt. He had thought about killing his father countless times growing up. The nuclear boy knew he would grow up to be different from everyone else, maybe being a serial bomber didn't cross his mind, but he didn't see himself as normal.

By age eleven, he had a fascination with bombs and would play any games with the weapons involved and loved to watch movies about wars and such because he loved to watch them kill.

All Shlatt knew about his son was that he was psychotic, dyslexic and not his. He couldn't have cared less about what happened to his 'son', as long as it didn't impact his career as a councilman.

Tubbo resented his father. He hated him with every fibre of his being, he was glad he was dead... he just wishes it was at his own hand and not to his addiction. He never showed the boy any compassion and he held no good memories with the man, not even when he was a toddler. He was fending for himself the moment he could practically walk.

Tubbo resented his mother. She left him, not even giving him a chance at getting to love her. He wasn't sure if she even knew his name or ever cared. His father refused to talk about her, he rarely ever let him see his cousin. He had no idea what he would do if he saw her in the flesh.

Kill her for leaving him, maybe?

If he couldn't kill his father— maybe he'd murder his mother. Maybe then he would finally find peace with being abandoned. He had a new family and they loved and accepted him with great love.

"Alright, Tubs-" Tommy said as he turned off his car and turned his attention towards his best friend. The brunette looked over, not that the blonde would even see his eyes because of his hair. "-in and out, let's try not trip any alarms, got it?"

The bomber nodded with a sly smirk and opened the car door. He wore a brown leather sachet around his torso, filled with mini bombs in case of an emergency and a handgun in his jacket pocket.  His feet landed on the concrete of the footpath as Tommy shoved his hands into his jumper pockets. The handle of a handgun poked out of his jeans pocket as he walked— a parcel tube was strapped to his back.

The pair walked side-by-side, they hadn't done a solo assignment together for a while. Ranboo didn't seem very keen on joining them on this task, saying he 'had something else to do'— whatever that meant. He made it seem like he was meeting with someone but both teenagers knew he was too anxious to do that.

The building was deserted, with no one in sight which was good for the troublesome teenagers. Tubbo shimmied open a window, careful not to trip any alarms into the museum. When Phil had told the duo that a buyer was interested in a specific painting inside of the city museum, they couldn't have agreed quicker. Tommy always loved a good robbery.

Tommy jumped through the window, his feet lightly hitting the tiled floor. Quietly, he turned around and ushered Tubbo in with a silent gesture, offering the boy a hand as he mimicked his best friend's actions. His black boots hit the ground with a soft thud, letting go of the blonde's hand, he took the lead and manoeuvred his way through the halls.