Chapter 2: Phil finds the grades

(!TW! Implications of SH and sensitive topics!) (!Swearing/Profanity!)

Tommy wakes up to the harsh sound of a loud knock on his bedroom door.

"Tommy. Get ready and downstairs in five minutes, tops." He hears Phil say, somewhat tiredly.

Tommy takes a deep breath, trying to convince himself that everything will be fine. He rushes out of bed, struggling to tug his iconic red and white shirt on quickly.

After that.. interesting struggle. Tommy walks out of his room and heads down to the living room. He walks into the living room, sitting down right across from Phil on the comfy, leather couch.

He holds his breath as he waits for Phil to say something, thinking of all the things that could be mentioned, his grades, the small, slightly bloody razor from a pencil sharpener sitting on the far corner of his desk, or maybe even the fact that he hasn't spoken to any of his family members for over two days.

Phil finally speaks up. "So, Tommy, where's your report card? I got an email from your teacher saying that you got report cards yesterday, so where is it?"

Tommy's mind wanders to the small white slip in his backpack, trying to think of ways to make it seem like he genuinely forgot and isn't just lying through his teeth.

"I, uhm.. it's in my backpack.. I forgot to give it to you yesterday, sorry" He says nervously, as in reality Tommy just really didn't want to talk to his family, especially not about his grades.

"Well, go get it for me then. I'd like to have a look at it, see how you're doing in school" Phil says, believing the charade Tommy is putting up.

"Oh- Sure.. I'll be right back," Tommy says, getting up off of the couch, and heading up the stairs, to his room.

Once he was inside the comfort of his room, he rushes over to his backpack, kneeling on the floor in front of it and grabbing his report card, unfolding it to look at his grades briefly.

He looks sadly at his grades, having mostly C-'s and below, except for in Art, where he has an A.

He gets up slowly, dusting off his pants slightly as he exits his room. He walks slowly down the stairs, trying to make the trip from his room to the living room as long as he possibly can.

Tommy takes a deep breath before slowly entering the living room, but to his surprise, he sees Wilbur sitting across from Phil on the couch, chatting nonchalantly with him.

Phil looks over at Tommy, just now noticing him. "Oh, Tommy! We were just talking about you!" he says, smiling at Tommy.

"Oh, you were?" Tommy says, the white slip still resting in his hands. "What were you saying about me?"

Tommy asks, sitting down on the cool, leather couch, sitting as far as he can from Wilbur, making small glances at him.

"We were talking about how excited Phil is to see how well you're doing in school, Tommy!" Wilbur chimes in, smiling "innocently" at Tommy.

"O-oh.." Tommy says. "Well, uhm.. here's my report card.." He says, stretching his arm out towards Phil to hand him the report card.

Phil takes the report card out of Tommy's hands and somewhat smiles at Tommy "Thank you, Tommy"

Phil starts reading Tommy's report card, smiling, although his smile soon turns into a deep frown.

Phil looks up at Tommy, stopping reading the report card "Tommy what is this? Why are your marks so.. horrible??"

Tommy looks down, fiddling with his hands, picking at the raw skin beside his fingernails again. "I dunno.." Tommy mumbles

"What do you mean you don't know Tommy? They're your grades!" Phil says, annoyed at Tommy's low marks.

"I.. Dunno.. school is just hard.." Tommy says, still looking at his hands, now fiddling in his lap.

"Of course school is hard! But that doesn't excuse how bad these marks are Tommy! You got over 5 C-'s and 3 D's!" Phill says, visibly annoyed and angered "This is unacceptable Tommy!"

"Mhm.." Tommy mumbles, tears threatening to spill out of his eyes at any moment as he stares down at his now intertwined hands. Tommy blinks quickly to try and rid of the tears gathering in his eyes.

"Well? Say something! Why did you let your marks get this bad Tommy?! No- Scratch that, How did your marks get so bad?!" Phil says, staring at Tommy.

Tommy bites his cheek to not burst out in tears. "I dunno.. I went in for extra help but it still didn't help.." He mumbles, looking up at Phil briefly.

Phil scoffs, "You're grounded, and you can't see your friends until you get your damn grades up."

Tommy nodded slowly, biting his cheek, probably a bit too hard, as the copper taste of blood filled his mouth.

Wilbur, who had just been observing this entire situation, had apparently decided he wanted to make Tommy's life even worse, by lying to Phil about something Tommy had supposedly done.

"Phil? Can I add something?" Wilbur chimed in, a small smirk on his face.

Phil looks over to Wilbur. "Of course Wil, go ahead"

"I just wanted to add that Tommy swore at me yesterday, and he also hit me very hard.." "Wilbur said, putting on a sad facade and looking down.

Tommy snaps his head up "What?! I did not!" He says in disbelief.

Phil looks at Tommy "Tommy be quiet! How could you do something so rude?! And to your own brother nonetheless!" Phil said, angrily.

"But I didn't do it!" Tommy yelled, both him and Phil now standing up.

"Tommy! Be quiet and stop yelling you're being so loud and annoying" Phil said, angrily.

"Come on Phil, can't you see that he's lying?!" Tommy says desperately.

Phil steps closer to Tommy, raising his voice. "Do not accuse your brother of lying about such things!"

"But he is! I never even saw the bastard yesterday!" Tommy says, trying to get Phil to believe him.

Phil slaps Tommy hard across the cheek, shutting Tommy up pretty quickly. "Theseus Innit-Minecraft! Do not call your brother a bastard!"

Tommy, still shocked by the slap, is now staring at the wall, tears building up in his eyes. Tommy gulps slightly. "What the fuck Phil..?! you don't just slap your own son like that!" Tommy says, looking back at Phil, tears now spilling from his eyes.

Tommy scoffs "Whatever.. I don't know why I'm even trying anymore" He mutters angrily, going to exit the room, but getting stopped by a hand on his shoulder.

"Tommy, you're not leaving, we're having a talk about this. Right now." Phil says, his hand on Tommy's shoulder.

Tommy shrugs Phil's hand off his shoulder. "I'll talk. When you calm down and stop acting like a fucking childish bitch." With that, Tommy runs upstairs into his room, slamming the door and locking it.

Tommy walks into the middle of his room, and then falls onto the floor, clutching his cheek slightly and rubbing the red mark on his face. 'I didn't think he'd slap me..' Tommy thinks to himself sadly, but still slightly angrily.

He gets up off the floor slowly, walks over to his desk and turns his PC on, and then logs into Discord.

Tommy's hand hovers over the keyboard, about to type out a DM to Dream, when he spots the small, slightly bloody razor sitting in the corner of his desk.

Tommy stares at it, a look of slight anger on his face. He goes to reach for it but stops himself, contemplating if he should do it or not.

'Stop being such a fucking pussy and just do it' he thinks to himself, shaking his head before picking up the small razor and bringing it to his already scar-ridden arm.