Stolen Chances

Chapter Sixteen

Tommy knocked on the bedroom door. Silence echoed through the tiny apartment. He didn't see his roommates much anymore.

Tubbo barely spoke to him as of late, and it was with an accusing tone when he did. Waiting to catch him in anything else, he hid from the pair. He told Ranboo about the leftover money from Wilbur and Quackity, but the brunette didn't want anything to do with it. Tubbo was working full-time with Sam, no longer an intern, and Ranboo was taking over Tubbo's old position.

Tommy could have gone back to working his normal shifts at the diner. Money wasn't as big of an issue anymore with all three workings. When he told Ranboo he paid the next month's rent in advance, he saw him visibly pale and asked if they could return the money. He decided then to keep his day shifts at the diner.

The air in the apartment was suffocating. Tommy felt like he couldn't breathe too loudly without being snapped at. Though, that might be welcomed compared to the cold shoulder Tubbo had been giving him. Poor Ranboo was trying his best to mediate between them, but even he was struggling with his own fears.

Tommy raised his hand to knock on the door again when it suddenly swung open. Tubbo was standing before him, Ranboo standing close behind him. "We need to talk," Tubbo's voice was cold as he stared down the other. Tommy could almost swear he felt a shiver shoot up his spine.

At the brunette's words, Tommy perked up, taking a few steps back to let the other two leave the doorway, "O-oh? Yeah, yeah, of course-"

Tubbo cut him off, "They bought our building."

Tommy blinked, needing to take an extra second to process what Tubbo said, "Who did?"

Tubbo scoffed as he reached over the small coffee table they had and thrust out a white flyer in front of Tommy. It was the same flyers taped to the other apartment doors, Tommy had noticed as he walked the halls. The branded logo of the Craft family taking front and center.

"What?" Tommy's words caught in his throat as he read over the paper.

"We can't fucking leave because this is the only apartment complex that wouldn't ask questions about our age." Tubbo was pacing the space of the apartment now, Ranboo rubbing his own arms in a self-comforting way. "What the hell are we going to do?"

"We could just stay." As soon as the words left his mouth, Tommy felt the mood instantly drop.

Tubbo's pacing had stopped, and Ranboo was staring directly at him with his head tilted. "What?" Tubbo asked; a deathly calm had settled over him.

Tommy swallowed roughly; suddenly, his throat felt dry. He found himself preferring the cold shoulder Tubbo had been giving him the past few days versus this sudden blankness. "I mean, we don't have to leave, do we? They aren't kicking us out and, as long as the rent stays the same, I don't see why-"

"They tried to kill you, Tommy." Tubbo cut him off, "They nearly killed you! Three times in fact-"

Tommy shook his head, "I know, but they said they would leave us alone-"

"And you believe them?" Ranboo spoke, his voice much softer but with none of the usually held warmth. Walking around Tubbo, he grabbed the flyer from Tommy's hands gently. "Tommy, they know our names, our jobs, where we live." The teen shakes his head, "This is just them keeping tabs on us at this point."

Tommy sighed with his head bowed, pinching his eyes closed. Then, taking a breath, he opened them, looking at the two, "Well, what do we do then?"

Tubbo was quick to butt in, "Tell those psychopaths to fuck off."

Ranboo elbowed the shorter teen, "In a way that won't get us killed."

Tommy frowned, "They won't hurt you guys."