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Tommy loved being in the air, perhaps more than any of them, and yet, ever since Phil's injury, he kept turning down any offers of taking to the skies once more. His responses varied; from a mocking quip on a good day, to a borderline physical aggression on a not-so-good one.
Eventually they called it quits, claiming that it's no use and any further attempts would only piss him off in the long run.
Even though he would laugh in their face and deny it, all of them saw through his flimsy facade when soon he began to climb the highest trees he could find in a foolish attempt to grasp at the wind just one more time. Sometimes the "useless feathery pieces of crap" on his back remained the only saving grace between him and quite the grim end.
And with that, six months have passed and everyone with two working eyes in their head could see how it took a toll on him.
Tubbo noticed his legs and arms were now covered in scabs and scratches as the branches smacked ruthlessly against his skin when he climbed them in a hurry, Techno and Wilbur claimed that his eyes were dull and lifeless, almost turning gray as the only emotions occasionally sparking behind them were anger and sorrow, barely hidden behind forced laughter that by now sounded more muted than Phil ever remembered it being.
But the thing that worried him the most were his son's wings, now lying limp like a dead weight on his back. His plumage was thinner, way more spotty than it should be, but Tommy never mentioned his feathers falling out, did he? Was he tearing them out himself? He remembered Techno doing that when the voices first became apparent, but by now his eldest had it under control.
Suddenly it dawned on him.
Tommy was blaming himself for his fall.
The next day, Phil shook his youngest awake at the crack of dawn and with a gentle smile. He presented Tommy with an offer he knew the other would never want to refuse: a full weekend trip just for the two of them, nobody else to interfere. He talked the whole thing over with Kristen the night before, both of them deciding that it will most likely be the best way to approach the issue.
Tommy of course jumped at the chance and before they knew it, they were already halfway out the door, making their goodbyes and planning the best way to trek up the nearby mountain, not paying mind to Wilbur's half-coherent sleepy grumbles and Kristen’s goodhearted chuckles.
Phil let out a quiet exhale of relief, seeing a fraction of light come back to Tommy's eyes as he cracked a couple jokes (more crude of which earned him a light smack on the head) with the hot summer wind blowing through his golden hair. The air definitely felt a bit too stuffy for Phil's liking but he wiped beads of sweat from his forehead and shoved his hat onto the boy's head anyways.
By the time they arrived at their destination- a clearing with a nice view of the cliffedge- it was getting well into the afternoon and the sweltering heat showed no signs of stopping.
Philza leaned carefully against the trunk of the nearest tree, deciding to take a short break in the shade.
"Tired already, old man?" Tommy snickered.
His father's eyes cracked lazily open, turning over as he gave him a schooled gravely expression in spite of the mirth present in his eyes.
"Theseus Tomathy Careful Danger Kraken Innit Minecraft, call me that one more time and I will smack you in the shins with that cane." He stated, lifting it slightly for emphasis, making the other boom with laughter.
He was laughing, which is already more than he bargained for. Phil noticed that the sound did feel too hollow for his liking, and it wasn't just his imagination. Devoid of it's usual warmth it sounded unsettlingly empty.
After a few minutes, Phil carefully lifted himself off the ground, shaking off stray leaves that got tangled in his outfit, and blinking a couple of times to adjust back to harsh sunlight. He tapped Tommy's shoulder, hoping to grab his attention.
"I don't know if I've ever taken you this high up here before," he mused, reminiscing on all of their past trips to the range. Seemingly every time they tried to reach the spot before, things got out of hand pretty quickly. The incidents ranged from sudden change in the weather to one of them getting injured and having to call the whole trip off either way.
“Come on, big man, there’s one more thing I have to show you,” he said, a mysterious glint present in his eyes as he gestured to a small, beaten path off to the side of the clearing, obscured by the thorn bushes just enough to be invisible for someone who didn’t know what they were looking for.
Tommy let out a noise of surprise, looking over his father’s shoulder.
“Phil, what the absolute fuck am I looking at?” The boy questioned as he watched the other carefully stepping among the bushes.
"It's a path," the man deadpanned, "Are your eyes alright? Do you need glasses like Will and Techno?" came the light laughter, as he leaned his head back "are you coming?" He called out, hearing the unmistakable sound of dry twigs snapping and cloth ripping apart, followed by a wreath of curses spilling from his son’s mouth, making him chuckle once again.
“I don’t need any stupid fucking glasses like those lame ass nerds” he fired off, trailing behind Phil, gaze stubbornly fixed on his upper back, fighting off the sickening feeling pooling up in his stomach at the sight of crisp white bandages peeking through the slits in his father’s shirt.
He shook his head.
“I was asking where in the hell are you dragging me off to, we’re in the middle of nowhere!”
Phil rolled his eyes fondly, feeling his wings- or well, one wing twitch slightly.
“You’ve been spending so much time with Techno, one would think you’d pick up on some of their patience” he teased “I think we’re almost there” he pointed towards a small hut that Tommy could swear was not there before, as if it just now came into existence. A snow white building almost out of place in the otherwise untouched summer landscape.
Phil pushed the door open, wincing lightly at the metallic screech that assaulted his ears.
The place looked long abandoned, particles of dust and cobwebs covering every visible surface lit by the warm sunlight streaming in through the uncovered windows. Tommy sneezed a couple times in quick succession, aggressively rubbing at his face as dust flew into his eyes and nose. The floorboards creaked beneath their feet as Phil silently led them upstairs, a look of nostalgia and almost remorse painted on his face. Tommy didn’t ask.
His father led him into the attic and opened the dark wooden door on the side, paying little mind to the clutter around them, gesturing for Tommy to come inside. He came through the doorway, careful not to slam his head into it. He took a quick look around: A huge bed with nothing but a mattress on it, an empty bookcase, a vase with wilted flowers and an intricate picture frame on the nightstand, a heavy black curtain. Tommy jolted slightly when Phil quickly side-stepped him, reaching carefully for the velvet curtain with a sort of a absent smile and dragged it back swiftly, allowing the stained glass window to illuminate the room with bursts of color, ripping a soft awestruck gasp from the teen’s chest.
A white blue and pink stargazer lily casted a warm glow over the bedroom, surrounded by the sea of twinkling constellations.
“This house Phil, did you…” He uttered, finally breaking the silence that fell gently between them “did you build it?”
Phil fell backwards on the bed, dragging his youngest down with laughter next to him relieved at the signs of boyhood coming back to his face for the first time in months.
“Yes, a long time ago with your mom, the first nest of our own, many years before any of you came into the picture.”
“Does Techno or Wilbur know about it?” he asked, looking up at the stained glass window, unable to take his eyes off of the colorful lights.
“Nope, just me and mom, and now you of course” Phil replied, tousling Tommy’s hair affectionately, causing his eyes to spark with excitement.
“Why did you bring me here then?” he questioned, causing the other to clear his throat.
“Well, I just wanted to ask you for help with bringing this place back to its former glory, and it could be our secret spot, should we need a bit of time away from everyone else?” he proposed, making Tommy's expression shift in a way he couldn’t describe “There’s a garden out back that you could take care of with mom.” He added in hopes of convincing the boy.
“Wouldn’t Techno, Tubbo or Wilbur be a better help?”
“Don’t you think I would ask them if I wanted their help?”
“But why me?” Tommy insisted.
“What do you mean why?” Phil asked, sitting back up and practically leaning over the boy ”I thought you were gonna be excited about this” he sighed, putting the stray strand of hair behind his ear.
“I am! This is bloody amazing but just...” his eyes wandered to his father’s back before he could realize what he was doing. He silently cursed himself, feeling all blood drain from his face.
“You know none of this is your fault, right?” Philza all but whispered, attempting to gently caress his cheek. He flinched, feeling as if a shock ran through his body. The words felt distant. Shit fuck shit shit- run.
He quickly scampered off the bed and out of the bedroom, barreling down the staircase. His steps were almost as loud as the blood that roared in his ears, the house suddenly felt much too large and somehow suffocating at the same time. He wanted out.
He rushed blindly to the door, nearly tripping over the doorstep in his hurry. The sun was blazing from the sky and the air was completely still making his throat feel like sand.
His head was spinning but he managed to make out his father's faint footsteps in the distance, he instinctively took a turn and after a few more paces he found himself in his mother's old garden.
He half expected for it to be nothing but a pile of dried thorn bushes wilted plants and wild weeds at this point but to his surprise, it looked just as well kept as the one at their house and definitely not left to its own devices for well over two decades.
The air in the garden seemed almost sweet, but Tommy chalked it up to the ridiculous amount of blooms for such a small space and quickly made his way up the enormous wisteria tree growing in the back.
He dug his fingers into the bark, feeling the nails crack slightly under pressure. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying his best to ignore the thundering in his ribcage.
"Tommy?" His father called out from under the tree, sitting down cross legged, facing the branches "Tommy, come down please you're bleeding" He pleaded, causing Tommy to just now notice a fresh scrape along his shin. He hesitated for a few moments before finally jumping down and tumbling on his back nearly as soon as he reached the ground.
Philza wasted no time scooping him up, gingerly wiping the tear stained cheeks, he gently traced the fingers along his tight set jawline. "Come on, you're gonna crack your teeth if you keep that up." He placed Tommy's hand on his chest, walking him patiently through a couple of breathing exercises.
"I'm sorry" the boy finally choked out, voice brittle.
“There’s nothing to be sorry about, Tommy, nobody blames you because what happened wasn’t anyone’s fault” he let out a slow breath, carefully weighing the next words in his mind ”and even if there was someone to put the blame on, it would’ve been me anyway. I should’ve known better than to fly out knowing there might be a blizzard later, it’s literally one of the first things I taught all of you.” Phil spoke, his words came out soft, barely audible over the gentle sounds of the garden around them, as if anything louder than a whisper would shatter them both into a million pieces. Before he could begin once more, he felt a familiar embrace close tightly around him.
“It’s okay, Dad” Tommy’s words were muffled as he buried his face in the other’s shoulder, a futile attempt at covering up hot tears streaming down his face yet again, “it’s not your fault either.” With those words, Philza felt his heart stir, feeling as if someone finally pulled a thorn embedded into his side a long time ago.
He cradled his son’s head, threading his fingers into the blond locks so much like his own.
“Tell you what kiddo, how about we eat some of the cinnamon apple cake I baked last night, take a nap, and then stay up all night by the fire, watching stars and telling stories? I’m sure you have some amazing ones that I’ve yet to hear”
He felt the boy nod wordlessly and picked him up as if he weighed nothing, not ready to let him go just yet.
That’s how Phil found himself on his old bed once again, Tommy curled up at his side fast asleep, near dead to the world, as his father continued to croon the very same song his mother used to help him calm down.
He pressed a kiss to his son’s temple, a welcomed warmth entering his heart as he looked at the stained glass window. He knew there’s a long road ahead, but at least now They were on the right track. Should the healing take months, years even, he had hope, and he was more than ready to wait.