Home is not a house

Chapter 4

Early update because I start school tomorrow

Tw for this chapter: Mentioned Razor blade, talk of self harm, bruises, scars, vomiting, past abuse

Tommy stood staring at the counter at the razor blade. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck. There was not enough fucks in the world to describe his panic

He was gone for sure, they would hate him for having it and kick him out. He began to cry, tears running down his face as he began to shake. He had been here for less than twelve hours and he was going to be kicked out.

Phil's mind went blank for a moment, not because Tommy was crying, not because they had found the razor, no because he saw Tommy's face.

Tommy's face was covered in bruises, his neck littered with scars that looked to be from burns and cuts. There were bruises that were purple and black, the cut scars were pink and didn't look old. The burn scars were in perfect circles that could be from cigarettes'

Phil was in shock, he didn't know what to say or do, he was unmoving.

Wilbur had gotten sudden flash backs and ran over to the trash can vomiting his guts into it.

Techno was trying to keep calm, be the one person with a stable head.

Tommy was still crying his heart out, shaking to the point where he had to sit on the floor before he fell over. He was having his second panic attack of the night. He felt like he was going to die.

"Tommy, can I grab your hands please?" A voice pushed through the thoughts of wanting to die. Tommy just nodded, scared of what would happen if he said no.

Techno grabbed Tommy's hands carefully. The hands themselves had scars as well. Techno looked them over, deemed none of the bones broken and looked at Tommy.

"Tommy I'm going to lightly squeeze your hands, when I do breathe in, when I let go breathe out." Techno instructed, Tommy stared off into the distance but nodded, tears still falling down his face. Techno lightly squeezed Tommy's hands for 7 seconds and let go for 8 seconds. Tommy did the breathing with Techno for a few moments.

It was long enough for Wilbur to stop vomiting. Wilbur was now sat on the floor near the trash can, doing his own breathing exercise.

Phil also seemed to snap out of his thoughts and looked around the room at what was happening. He shook his head like it would clear his thoughts like a fucking echasketch and walked over to Wilbur first. He bent down to Wilbur's level and looked at him.

"Are you alright?" Phil asks softly and Wilbur nodded, still taking deep breathes. "Do you need anything?" Phil continues to ask but Wilbur shakes his head, he needed to breathe that's it. He then walks over to Tommy and Techno.

"Dad don't stand close." Techno advises and Phil nods. He instead sits on the floor, still feet away from the boys.

"Alright." Phil agrees and Techno nods, he hadn't taken his eyes off of Tommy at all. Tommy was breathing a better now but his hands still trembled in Techno's.

"Alright kid, do you want to talk, keep breathing, or do something else?" Techno asks Tommy and Tommy shrugs, still not making eye contact with anyone. Wilbur, who was doing his own breathing exercises scooted over to Phil and sat next to him, resting his head on Phil's shoulder.