Tommy's life wasn't always bad, he supposed.

There was times when his mother would scoop him up, placing gentle but affectionate kisses into his growing hair. Times where she would pick him out the best outfits and tell him how handsome and smart he looked. Times when he was loved by the people that are supposed to stick up for you when you can't, people who are supposed to support every move and decision you make.

Those times ended long ago. Years ago.

Tommy can't remember his mother very well, or why she left, all he knows is that she must have had a very good reason. She was also gentle with him, making sure he knew he was her favourite person on the planet.

He misses it. How did it go so wrong?

Stories that he's grown up reading from a young age consisted of brothers having a bond anyone else could never dream of. Father and son going on late-night road trips across the city. Where was this unconditional love? Why was it all false? Why did his dad and brothers not love the way they are supposed to?

Why did they abandon him?

They gave him a choice to come, of course, but Tommy never felt so out of control sitting in his new room in the local foster center.

He's never felt so unloved before. So unwanted that his father had him pack his things and told him to go with a point of a finger and a drive in the early morning. No last goodbye, no looking back as a change of mind or to atleast make sure he was okay. No, instead he got a cold shoulder and mud spurted in his face from the mocking tires.

His new room was bland and held no character. There was two plain white beds that looked like they belonged in a prison more than a children's room. There was a small wardrobe that stood mockingly against the wall but that was it. No homework desk with little pencil pots and unfinished papers spread across it, no posters of favourite artists stuck to the walls and certainly no clothes littering around the floor.

The room would have looked unlived in if it hadn't been for the small imperfection of the making of the left bed and the small boy that lay ontop of it.

Around four years old, a brunette boy in a pink shirt with a scar gracing his left cheek stared at Tommy and were he was currently sitting on the floor rethinking his life choices.

Technically, Tommy was supposed to be shoved in a room with people his age, but ultimately there was no rooms so he was stuck with what he assumed to be a snot-filled toddler until either of them could get out of there.

Confirming his suspicions, the younger brought a hand up to his nose and started rubbing it and Tommy could quite literally see the snot wipe onto his hand.

Grossed out, Tommy turned away with a disgusted look on his face. He was not watching that, no thank you!

Going deep back into his thoughts, Tommy didn't notice the light knock of the door, nor it opening. Only did he respond when a soft hand was laid upon his shoulder, jolting him out of his thoughts with a small thud and the hit of his head on the bed frame behind him.

There, in front of him, stood the most stuck-up asshole Tommy had ever seen. White long-sleeved shirt, black buttoned up tunic and long leather trousers. His hair was slicked back and his shoes were varnished and he had the most god-awful mustache ever.

Ew.

"Thomas? There's someone here to see you." The man spoke, a sinister, hungry smile playing out on his features as he looked at the kid in front of him. Even from that small sentence alone, the blonde could tell this man was not a kindness award winning guy.

Tommy nodded wordlessly while he got up to follow the man instead of answering him, this dude was creepy, he didn't deserve Tommy's words.

The corridors stood long and tall, as if proud to be there. The carpeted floor was unpleasant to walk upon but Tommy wasn't going to say anything about it, he didn't know what these people were like.

So, he kept his head down, watching the pattern of their feet on the ground going up and down as he followed the creep to wherever this guy that wanted to see him was.

He was surprised, if he was being honest. Somebody had already come looking for him and he'd only been in foster care for what? A day or two? He'd heard stories of foster kids, kids that are unloved and have no where to go, kids that get beat all day everyday, kids that age out of the system and have to start supporting themselves because they never found a family. Tommy didn't want to be one of those kids.

Tommy longs to spend time with Tubbo and Ranboo again, making flower crowns or going over lines for their silly little theatre play, he just wants that feeling of friendship that they give him. He wants the feeling of fondness from Mr Quackity when he has to tell Tommy and his friends to be quiet more than what should be necessary. But most of all, Tommy wants the love that radiates from Mr Awe. He wants the love that Sam puts in when he lets him stay after school so he can avoid going home, when he helps him with his homework while he's stuck and doesn't understand, Tommy wants the love when Mr Awe gives him lunch money when he forgets to wake up early to get it from his dad in the morning. Tommy wants all of it, the friendship, the fondness, the love. He wants everything he's been shown in his life by his family in all but blood.

He wants them back and he'd do anything for it. Hell, he'd even donate a kidney if it meant he could see his real (not the fake-ass one that ignores him but claims they're blood or whatever) family one last time.

And maybe that's why when the door opened to reveal Sam sitting on that chair in the middle of the room, the same Sam that Tommy thinks is the closest to a father he's ever had, he runs up to him and doesn't think twice before his hands are wrapped around his torso, unwilling to let go. And maybe that's why he smiles when he feels Mr Awe's arms wrap around him gently.

Tommy thinks Sam's hugs are the best in the world. Well, he doesn't have any other hugs to compare them to, but he still thinks they're the best anyways. Sam's always the best.

When he finally pulled away, the hug felt like the shortest thing that every existed. Tommy could hug Sam for hours and not get bored of it.

With a quick glance around the room, Tommy could see the creepy man had left, letting them talk on their own. Although, Tommy was sure he saw him looking through the window.

"Hey." Tommy said, looking up at Sam and meeting blue eyes on green.

"Oh my gods, Tommy, I am so sorry-" Sam started, trying to choke down his sob. "I- I didn't know where they'd taken you, I was looking for you non-stop these past two days you have no clue. Ranboo and Tubbo didn't even know where you went- I just- I'm so glad I found you."

"You- you were looking for me?" Tommy asked. And it was meant to come out confident and 'manly' but instead it came out more of a quiet whisper. Sam was looking for him. Sam wanted him.

"Tommy- what? Of course I was looking for you! I went through so many foster homes trying to find you! And when I did I wasted no time in contacting them to see you. Tommy, I've known you for not even a year and you've wormed your way into my heart- which really as a student you shouldn't do- and- well, I care about you, okay?" Sam replied.

"You do?" Tommy sniffled, and oh, when did he start crying?

"Yes. And if it's okay with you, I'd like to take you home?" Sam said and wow, this has to be the best day of Tommy's life.

"Why would I say no?" He laughed, disbelieving. Who would refuse a chance to live with Sam? They'd have to be out of their minds!

"Let's get you home then, yeah?" Sam says, ruffling Tommy's hair.

"Okay, Mr Awe."

"Hey! None of that, It's Sam Or Dad now, got it?" Sam says faux sternly. And Tommy knew he was only pretending to be stern, Sam couldn't be like that if he tried.

"Okay, Sam." And it was now that Tommy vowed never to forget this day. The day where he went home with the person who cares for him most, the person who makes him feel at home.

Tommy thinks he'll like living with Sam.