Alliums

The boys who cared

Foreword; Techno is 16, Wilbur is 13 and Tommy is 10 but he doesn't eat much so he looks more like an eight year old and is even lighter than that. He also doesn't really act ten.... more younger. 

Thanks for reading!!!!!

None of this fanart is my fanart. 

Tommy Innit was running for his life.

Again. 

This was not the first time, by any means. When you've run away from three orphanages, two neglectful and abusive families, and ended up living on the streets alone, stealing to survive, you learn how to run away from other people. 

You also learn a great number of other things. 

You learned that the word home didn't exist for you. Home was the streets. The streets were his home. That's where Tommy belonged, the streets. 

You also learn how to steal, what to look for, how to tell who will tell the store clerk about you being a thief, and how people will react to your ears. 

Oh yeah, Tommy was a hybrid. Raccoon hybrid, to be exact. He was extremely flexible, could and would climb everything, and he even had little ears poking out of his blonde hair, always hidden by a black cloak he wore. 

That day. All Tommy had done was steal one loaf of bread. He knew what he was doing was stupid, but he couldn't help himself. Tommy hadn't eaten in five days. He was starving. Well, he was always on the verge of starving but he was really starving now. Five days was a long time for a kid to go without food. But Tommy was never at the right place, it seemed like there was always someone watching him, and there was never an available opportunity. 

After running for a solid five minutes (Not easy for a starving kid, hybrid or not) Tommy made a mistake. Starvation addled his brain, and he turned down a dead end alleyway. 

"Come 'ere ya little  street rat." the owner of the store growled at the entrance to the alleyway. Normally, Tommy could have just jumped over the wall and been gone, but not when he was starving. 

"I need to teach ya a lesson." He started walking closer to Tommy with some sort of club or bat. 

The owner picked Tommy up by the back of his shirt and started to beat him, hitting him with his club. The man threw Tommy to the ground, then started kicking and spitting on him. He kept hitting Tommy, over and over, in the ribs, head, everywhere, until Tommy had nothing that wasn't aching with pain. He curled into a ball, wishing it would end. 

Tommy tried to put an arm up to block the club. Instead, the club hit his arm with a nasty CRACK! Tommy screamed in pain. 

The man, trying to shut Tommy up, reached for his hooded face. It fell around Tommy's neck, revealing his ears. "What the--? What are you?" the man asked. He spat on Tommy. "You're a freak! You're one of those mutant hybrid freaks! You wanna know what we do to freaks in my family?" 

Tommy desperately shook his head, sobbing. 

"We beat the hybrid right out of them! We beat them bloody and raw."

He raised his club and started to beat Tommy again. Tommy cried out in pain, wishing, praying, that he had a way out of this. He started to swim in and out of consciousness, seeing nothing but bloody tears, wishing over and over that this wasn't real, that he had someone or something to help him. 

But he had nothing. 

"HEY!" Someone screamed from the entry of the alley. A boy in a yellow shirt ran into the alley. He put himself in between the man and Tommy. "Leave him alone!"