Attached | Bee & Boo

Conversations

TW: Implied past abuse

A/N: I swear this was meant to come out earlier, but then I had to leave the house and it's hard to write without a device...

 Phil sighed, picking up the stray trash that had been left on the floor. Everyone else was just doing their own thing. Tubbo and Ranboo were off in the corner, trying and failing to teach Michael how to play "Sticks." The man wasn't quite sure what Tommy and Wilbur were doing, but they were having a very enthusiastic conversation about something.

Glancing at the two groups, the man slowly made his way over to the latter, settling down carefully.

"Hey, Phil," Wilbur greeted, his back leaning against the wall, his eyes tracing lazy circles through the air.

"Hi, mate." He paused, looking from person to person. "What are you guys talking about?"

"Things," Tommy answered vaguely, throwing a subtle glance Michael's way. Phil nodded in understanding, resting his head on his knee.

"How have you guys been doing?"

"I'm... alive," Will replied.

"I mean, I sure hope you are," Tommy joked, throwing his head back and laughing as if he had found the funniest joke in the world. The older brunet raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. "What?"

Will shrugged, "Nothing." Philza shook his head at their antics, smiling lightly. "Anyways," the brunet continued, shifting slightly, "What have you been up to, Phil?"

"Same thing as you guys, mate." Tommy opened his mouth hesitantly, as if he was about to say something.

"Are we- are we going to talk about last night?" The boy didn't need to specify.

"I don't think it's our business, honestly," Wilbur answered hesitantly. "If he opens up about it, we can, but until then, I think we should- I think we should keep our noses to ourselves."

-

"I win!" Michael cried, doing a little victory dance in celebration. Ranboo didn't have the heart to tell him that the toddler had forgotten about his other hand.

"Good job!" he praised, wincing slightly as the pinkett dragged the hybrid to a stand, pulling the tall boy into the cheer as well.

"You did so well!" Tubbo agreed, a huge grin adorning his face as he watched the pair dance around, the tall hybrid tripping over his feet as the toddler pulled him around chaotically. Ranboo tried to ignore the bursts of pain that came with the sudden movement. He didn't want to spoil Michael's fun.

"Did Michael win?" Tommy yelled from across the space, looking at Tubbo expectantly.

"I did! I did! I did!" the toddler exclaimed excitedly, finally letting Ranboo go in favor of running circles around Tommy, Wilbur, and Phil.

"Good job, man!" the blond shouted, his enthusiasm matching the young hybrid's. "High five!" The boy raised his hand, expecting for the boy to respond with the same gesture. What he didn't expect, however, was for Michael to recoil immediately, scampering behind Ranboo's leg. The hybrid instantly brought the toddler to his chest, lifting him with a practiced ease, protecting him.

Tommy quickly backed down, bringing his hand behind his back as if that would magically fix his mistake.

"Sorry," he apologized quietly, addressing Michael directly. "I shouldn't have done that." He paused. "Do you forgive me?" The question was genuine, instead of how people often stack it against you, making the obvious choice 'Yes.' The toddler tilted his head slightly, glancing up at Ranboo questioningly. The boy just shrugged, allowing the hybrid to make his own decision.

"Yes," the pinkett said finally, a smile already beginning to form on his face. Tommy nodded happily, guilt still written on his features. But, it was still a start.

-

Wilbur observed the interaction quietly. Tommy was so quick to ask for forgiveness, Michael so quick to forgive. He chuckled at the irony. The man was honestly not sure how the toddler who had been through so much could end up so kind. He had Ranboo to thank for that, he supposed.

"We have some things to work on," he murmured to Phil, his gaze still fixated on the group of minors.

"Yeah." There was a pause. "Yeah, we do." Wilbur nodded, before allowing his eyes to drift off, his stare empty and vacant. He missed his guitar. The instrument was such an easy way to deal with emotions. A healthy way to get his stress and anger out without hurting anyone. Oh, well. There were worse things that could happen. 

Have a wonderful day/night!