i just wanna know like the reactions of phil seeing tommy come back and more of his disappearance and how to boys not exactly felt i have that idea but a way they dealt with their sorta grief of tommys disappearance
(The way I have this all written out form last night. It’s rlly sloppy and unedited but here. Take.)
So he walks into the kitchen right. It’s tense and awkward. The maids kinda just drop him off and he sits down in a car at the opposite head of the table a bit away from them. He pulls at the collar of his shirt awkwardly. Phil looks up from his papers, techno had been twirling a knife on the table. He stops it flat. Wilbur was literally just chewing his nails anxiously in waiting.
So how the fuck do they do this? They don’t know. All they know is that Wilbur came home, breathless from running as he barged into the office where Phil and techno were and said with the biggest smile on his flushed cheeks. “He’s home.”
Phil put his pen down. “What?”
Techno is very still.
Wilbur says it again. “He’s home. He - he looks just like you, dad.”
So that’s what they’re going off of? Looks? Seems…uh, sketchy.
Techno makes eye contact with Tommy. His eyebrows furrow.
Phil feels all the air leave his lungs when he looks at the stray across from him. His eyebrows furrow.
Wilbur goes lax. He doesn’t say anything.
Tommy clears his throat. This is so incredibly awkward. He doesn’t know these people and the one person he does know followed him for a few days before he dragged him home.
“Uh….”
Phil moved without recognition of his body. He’s up and out of his chair, floating across the floor like a ghost to Tommy’s side. He kneels, his movements elegant. Tommy looks down at him, bottom lip pulled between his teeth and eyes drawn in worry.
Up close, Tommy looks familiar. Nothing like the stray street rat that he imagined his oldest had brought home.
His skin was fair, as fair as Kristin’s had been, dotted with freckles sprinkled like stars across his cheeks and neck. His hair was golden, much like his own except for the age in his roots. His blue eyes were like repetitive pools, the same eyes he saw in the mirror each morning. And his hands? The ones folded in his lap? They were roughened like Techno’s, and fidgeted like Wilbur’s.
Phil found himself smiling as silent tears streamed down his face. He reached out hesitantly, brushing a thumb under the teens cheek and trying not to get discouraged when he flinched.
“Welcome home, son.”
*Son? * **Son?!**
Tommy reeled back. “W-what?” The word was a whisper in his lips.
Across the table, Wilbur had gotten to his feet. “It’s home, dad, right? It’s him?”
Techno has taken to gripping his knife until his knuckles turned white. He was staring at Tommy as if he’d seen a ghost.
Phil’s hands hovered over Tommys face, cupping his cheeks. He’s still crying, his tears falling to the polished floor. Tommy watches them fall in something like fear.
“Yeah,” Phil murmurs. “It’s him.
The room goes eerily still as the words settled like smoke in the room. Then, the atmosphere shattered like glass when Tommy finally dared to speak again.
“I - what -who are you people?”
The knife Techno was holding clatters to the table top. He pushes back from the table, chair screeching obnoxiously. In three brisk paces, he’s crossed the floor and left the room.
Tommy watches techno leave before his eyes track back to Phil who looks like his entire world has ended. He recoils from the teen in the chair like he’d just touched something unpleasant.
“Theseus?” Tommy blinks when he realizes the word is directed at him.
“W - who?” Tommy feels trapped. Even though the ceiling touches the clouds and the walls expand out for miles, he feels trapped in this foreign place. “Who’s that?”
Phil’s face cracks and breaks more, the tears falling more rapidly. He turns away and straightens in one motion.
Phil doesn’t look up from the floor as he addresses Wilbur who is still standing on the other side of the table.
“William,” his voice opposes his face and sounds as hard as stone. “Who have you brought into the palace?”
It takes a moment too long for Wilbur to stutter out a response. “It - it’s Tommy! What do you mean? It’s Tommy!”
Phil shakes his head, a finger jutting out and pointing between Wilbur and Tommy threateningly. “He didn’t react to that name! He doesn’t know who we are! You’ve brought a stranger into our home!”
“But look at him, Dad! He looks - he looks just like you! It has to be him. It *has* to be -“
“You said that the last time. And the time before that -“
“But this time you agreed with me! You called him son because he’s your son!”
Silence settles over the scene at that comment. Tommy feels incredibly awkward, stick between two stones with no room with wiggle free. His blue eyes flicker between the two men anxiously.
Phil drops his head, takes a deep breath.
Across the way, Wilburs chest is heaving, his face red as blood rushes to the surface. He licks his chapped lips and continues talking.
“So what if he doesn’t remember us? It was years ago. He was taken as a baby. And, uh, if it’s any consultation…he doesn’t seem to remember anything.”
Phil looks stricken at that. He glanced away from Wilbur and over to Tommy, his eyes taking everything in, as if his skin and his hair held the secrets to his past. He turns back to Wilbur.
“…nothing?”
“Nothing.”
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So how far does the amnesia go? Is it the type of thing where they can’t remember people and places, or does it go farther to like not remembering the names of basic objects/actions/feelings. Also do skills he’s picked up before getting amnesia carry over. So like if he’d learned a language or how to solve puzzles and/or codes, can he still speak those languages and solve those puzzles/codes (even if he doesn’t necessarily know what the language is or what the names of the methods he’s using to do the solving)
Good question! Yeah so the amnesia is pretty severe. He doesn’t remember his name or where he is or what happened. Now, the thing is, he was taken when he was 5 so he never rlly learned to read or write or anything. If he had learned, he would have retained it but he never learned so he doesn’t know. The age affects a lot of things. But so does the trauma ya know?
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