SBI - His Curse of Binding

13

All Tommy wanted to do was eat his cereal upstairs in peace. He woke up literally dying, but without the permanence of death—his curse made it that overdosing didn't kill him but it sure did hurt. He could barely feel his pulse, he breathed like one of those inbred pugs with respiratory problems and his body felt like he was in Antarctica with Techno's polar bear Steve. Speaking of Techno, the fucker wouldn't leave him alone.

"Techno, please, let me eat my Coco Pops," Tommy whined as he sat on the edge of his bed with the bowl in his hands. Techno scowled at him from the door frame and shook his head. "Dude, what did I do?"

"You know what you did."

"If this is about me lying to you like literal months ago when I said that Will ate the last of your waffles, I'm not sorry and I'd do it again."

"Oh I already knew about that, I just wanted an excuse to beat up Wilbur." Techno crossed his arms and succeeded in coming across as threatening as possible. "But, this is about him."

Tommy frowned. For once in his life, he wasn't admiring the ominous aura Techno had, because frankly, the man was confusing the fuck out of him.

"Remember to put the printed paper that tells you about the medication and side effects back into the box next time you steal Wilbur's meds," Techno said.

Oh fuck.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Tommy replied, twitching under the harsh glare of Techno.

"Look, I don't want to go through the stages of grief with you."

"What?" Tommy said as Techno rolled his eyes.

"You make it so easy to bully you. You're in denial. I know you took his meds." Techno stepped closer into his room. "I monitor whether Wilbur takes his medication, he's not subtle either with flushing it half the time, and one of the strips is missing from the kitchen."

"Is big brother Technoblade gonna kill me?" Tommy knew that taunting the man who could currently blackmail him to death wasn't the smartest choice, but he did it anyway.

"No, but I can tell Phil and—"

"Don't!" he shouted, straining his throat. "I just needed to sleep, okay? I won't do it again."

"Good." Techno walked back into the corridor, satisfied. "Now come downstairs, you're ruining breakfast."

"I would've never thought you'd be the sworn protector of family breakfast."

"I am one yell away from notifying everyone in this household that you stole drugs."

Tommy flipped him off but did, very reluctantly, follow Techno downstairs with his cereal bowl.

❊❊❊

The next day at school, Tommy travelled from his English class to the bench uncomfortable. Maybe it was because Clementine had been off sick today so having to deal with analysing Macbeth wasn't as entertaining as it usually was. Or perhaps it was because the side effects of shoving two hundred milligrams of an unprescribed antidepressant into your system just to harass a God still hadn't left his system. But Tommy knew the true reason: he was terrified of what would happen after school. Phil had found a therapist for both him and Wilbur, arranging for different people but the sessions would occur at the same time in the same building. And he was slightly regretting agreeing to it all.

He sat down on the bench, not partaking in Tubbo and Ranboo's avid conversation about the dreams Tubbo had about Soviet Russian human experiments. Though, the mention of his name did scare him.