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Tommy walked down the barely lit hallway, stepps not making a sound. Some people went by, not sparing a glance to the eight year old, to his joy. He wouldn't like to be noticed.
He turned a corner, effectively bumping into someone, and managed to fall down with a small oompf. He looked up, panicked blue eyes meeting surprised green ones.
"Hey there, little guy, sorry about that." The man smiled and crouched down. He wore the uniform of the goons in the maffia, but he was nice. Tommy didn't trust it.
"I'm kinda new, ya know? I'm looking for the son of the boss." Tommy blinked, then looked away. He pointed at himself. He knew that lying would be futile, another goon would expose him, and then it would be worse.
"Oh? You are Theo?" The blond man asked with a kind smile, and Tommy frowned. He hated that name.
"You don't like that name?" The boy shook his head. "That's okay. What should I call you?" Tommy opened his mouth, then closed it.
T-O-M-M-Y
He signed. He wasn't mute. He could talk! It's just... He found it very hard to force words out of his mouth. Not always. His mother was deaf, so he learned signs when he was little, and as he slowly lost the energy, will, whatever it was, to speak, he started communicating in sign language. Not that anyone understood him. But the man smiled kindly, which was weird. No one smiled at Tommy.
"A pleasure to meet you, Tommy. My name is Clay." He said and patted the boy on the head. He flinched away at first before pressing into the touch with closed eyes. He couldn't see the sad yet furious frown on the man's face.
"You must be Clay, the new helper of the boy, huh?" Came a sharp voice from behind Tommy, who pulled away from the gentle touch, missing it instantly, and glanced up at Gregory with fear. Greagory was the meanest of the bunch after his father.
"That I am. And you are Gregory, right? Don't worry, I'm pretty sure the little guy and I will get along just fine!" Clay said with a huge smile, standing up. He was a bit taller than the brunett, and Tommy tried to disappear into the shadow of the hallway, back pressed against the wall.
"You don't have to get along with the brat." Said the man. Clay had a weird expression on his face. He was still smiling, but he made a confused expression, lips slightly parted, smile faltering a bit. He let out a small 'eh' sound. "Boss says he needs to toughten up a bit, and we can help with that." Tommy looked down at his shoes and tried to make himself look smaller. The only man who showed him gentleness now knew that he was free game to anyone.
"Sorry, I don't understand." Clay glanced at the kid and Lady. He looked so small and scared. He had a really bad feeling about this.
"You are a stupid one, ey? If I do this -" He kicked Tommy's side, sending him to the ground with a cry of pain. The boy curled into a tiny, shaking ball to protect himself. Clay let out an alarmed shout. "I get nothing. The boss only said to not kill him." He finished. Clay nodded, his eyes swirling with a need for murder. The man's comm went off, and he left the scene without another word. Clay crouched down to the trembling child, softly touching him. Tommy flinched away, but then stilled, cowering in fear, yes, but still as a stone. The older man's face was sad as he slowly pulled the child into his arms, craddling the small body with such care like he was made out of the most fragile Zsolnay porcelain.
"Shh, it's fine, Tommy. No one is going to hurt you now. I'm here." He whispered, walking towards the room of the boy. The kid basked in the gentleness, the warmth, and the feeling of being held and carried, one he did not experience in a long while. He felt safe in the strong arms, and he hesitantly grabbed the black shirt of the uniform. Clay cooed down at him, and he looked up shyly before hiding his face against the man's chest, blushing in embarrassment. Clay let out a small chuckle, opening the door to the boy's room.
He wasn't supposed to know where it was.
A small voice in the back of Tommy's head warned him, but he brushed it off. Someone probably gave the man a tour already.
Tommy's room wasn't anything special. There was a bed too small for him, a small bookshelf with some children's books on it, a desk filled with supplies for his education, and in a corner between the table and the wall was a small nestlike construction where Tommy actually slept. He didn't fit on the bed anymore, and he was more protected in the small place where he could only be attacked from the front and above.
Clay put him into the pillow nest, eyes scanning the room, seemingly looking for something. When he couldn't find it, he frowned, making Tommy scoot backwards. His action made Clay focus back on him.
"I won't hurt you, I promise." He smiled kindly, sitting down on the floor. There was something fond and dark in his expression that Tommy couldn't place.
"Can I check your side? I'm worried if there is internal damage that needs a healing potion." He said, and Tommy scooted closer, lifting his battered shirt, revealing many bruises and scars, alongside his ribs sticking out, made wisible by malnourishment. Clay's expression darkened, and Tommy flinched back, which made the blond freeze. The young boy froze too, unfamiliar with the older's reaction. Clay stood up without a word and stepped out of the room, leaving Tommy alone. He didn't lock it, which was weird.
Tommy's mind slowly started consuming him. What if he's going to get something to hurt Tommy with? What if he doesn't want to deal with him anymore? What if he leaves? Tommy got attached to him, came the horrid realization. That isn't great, depending on someone who always backfires for him. He's too big of a man for that! But he touched Tommy and didn't hurt him! He even carried him! No one carried Tommy before! And then he was worried! Tommy didn't know that was possible! And it felt nice that someone cared, even if it was for a moment.
The door opened, and Tommy his under the blanket, curling into a small ball. Maybe they go away if he pretends that he is not here.
"Tommy? I'm back, bud. I brought you food and a healing potion." Clay's voice echoed in the room, and Tommy peeked out from under the blanket. Clay cooed again, sitting down on the floor and placing a tray beside him. The food had a delicious scent, making his mouth water.
For me?
He signed, sitting up in his little pillow nest. Clay chuckled, nodding and inviting him over. He scrambled up, hurrying to the opder blond, reaching for the tray, only to be pulled away into the man's lap. He whined a bit before shutting up, looking at the man. Clay's pupils looked a tad bigger than normal, but it might as well be Tommy's mind making up nonsense again. The older blond 'aww'd at him, before shifting him around a pit so he was sitting more comfortably. And then a spoon was pressed against his lips. He opened his mouth by reflex. The spoon contained a tasty soup, which he savoured before swallowing. The next spoon was in front of him already, and so he opened his mouth.
After he couldn't eat more, he looked up at the man, his blue eyes met green ones. Clay smiled at him before holding up a glass containing a pink liquid. Tommy's eyes widened when he saw it, a healing potion. He had never had one before, because it was too expensive.
"C'mon Toms, drink it all up. You'll feel better in no time." Clay bressed the glass against his lips, slowly pushing the glass upwards, making him drink carefully, not letting a drop to go to waste. Tommy felt tired, belly full, and the aching in his bones slowly disappearing. He felt safe in Clay's hold, and he was excited to always have him by his side. He was happy that his father decided to have Clay by his side.
"Sleep, Toms. You need it." Tommy hummed, snuggling into the man's hold, pressing against his chest to hear his heartbeat, the slow rythm lulling him to sleep.
Clay's phone started buzzing, and he picked it up with a serious expression, cradling the sleeping child.
"Hello dear."
...
"Yes, I'm in."
...
Clay smiled. "Are you worried about me? That's sweet." He giggled quietly.
...
"Yes, everything is going according to plan. But I have a problem."
...
"No. No one suspects anything."
...
"I'd tell you if you shut that pretty mouth of yours."
...
Clay frowned. "Fuck you."
...
His lips quirked upwards into a smirk. "Yeah whatever you say."
...
"Yes. Sorry. The kid... He's hurt. Badly."
...
"No, the goons. That bastard lets them. Encourages it."
...
"And what? What if I do?"
...
Clay frowned. "Please?"
...
The smile was back on his face. "Fine. Then, do we alter the plan?"
...
"Thank you dear!" Clay smiled victoriously, and put the phone away. He looked down at Tommy, brushing blond curls out of the young face. Babyfat still clung to his cheecks, making him look even more adorable. Clay hummed, a happy and satisfyed smile on his lips. He stood up and put Tommy down to the pillows and blankets, glaring at the much too small bed in the other corner. He left the room, closing the door quietly, then locking it, pocketing the key. No one can enter Tommy's room without his knowledge.
He headed to the exit, ready to buy some stuff for the child. He wasn't stopped from leaving, no one sparing him a glance.
Such incompetent people, anybody could get in and harm his treasure. Clay couldn't have that now, could he. He paused in his steps, a smile taking over his features. Lady, he became quite possesive over the boy in such short time! But no one can blame him, Tommy was just adorable.
When Clay got back with two paper bags in his hands, Tommy was still sleeping soundly, burrowed under the blankets. Those few dropps of weakness potion with the healing really knocked the kid out. The man placed the paper bags on the desk, and crouched beside the boy, gently coaxing him back to the real world with gentle shakes and pats. He barely held himself back from giving the adorable child a kiss on the forehead when he yawned and rubbed his tired eyes.
"Good morning sunshine. I brought you some things." The man smiled, and Tommy blinked at him, confused. Clay reached for the paper bags, placing them in front of the child. His eyes went wide, lips parted in surprise.
For me?
He signed excitedly.
"Yeah." Dream smiled as Tommy reached into one of the bags, pulling out a cow plushie. His eyes went wide, and a huge smile got plastered on his lips. He hugged the cow toy, loving the softness of it.
How did clay know cows where his favourite?
No matter.
There were a lot more toys in that bag. A red ball with white dots, some lego sets, three books, and a red blanket. The other bag had lots of sweets, a skechbook and some colorful pencils. It also had some clothes, too.
"I hope you like it." Clay said a bit sheepishly. Tommy hugged him with all the might if eaigh year old. Clay chuckled, and hugged back gently. It felt safe, and Tommy let out a content sigh.
"Thanks." Tommy jumped back with a startled expression, looking surprised and conflicted. He looked up at Clay who had something soft in his eyes. That was Tommy's voice. Tommy just spoke. He tought he went mute!
"No problem Toms."
Months have passed, and Clay never left, never changed. Tommy loved him, loved this, and he was the happiest he has ever been. Clay was patient, helping him relearn how to talk, how to form words, how to laugh and smile. He helped with Tommy's homework, which was amazing! Tommy always struggled to sit still during lessons, mind often wandering away. But Clay always helped him, he was patient, and Tommy found himself dependent on the man.
Not like he had a problem with it tough.
Currently he was clinging onto the pants of said man, who stood before his father. Clay's posture was confident, and he seemed slightly bored even. Tommy, on the other hand, stared at a very interesting spot on the floor, clutching the pant leg like his life depended on it.
...
Maybe it did.
◇
Clay was bored, but inside he was quite confused. He was never once called into the office of his... Current boss, exept when he had arrived for a brief runover of the general rules. The man looked ugly, to say the least. He had blond hair and blue eyes, his face marred with scars. He looked high, but he always looked high.
Oh, off topic.
Tommy was lucky he got his mother's face, and hair texture. But poor boy had to suffer the consequences of that woman's poor taste in men. Clay pushed the boy a bit more behind him, not unfamiliar with the trembling. This man had nothing compared to him, and the young sunshine will be his, and he will take care of him like this sorry excuse of a maffie leader could never.
"You called, boss?" He asked, keeping his tone impassionate.
"You are far too soft for your job." Clay heard Tommy suck in a breath. He did not like this.
"You are fired. Get out. And leave my son in his room." Clay clenched his fists, but complied. He will get his sunshine, but he has to be smart about it.
He escorted Tommy back to the child's room. The boy was clinging on him like he was the last thing in his life. The boy wasn't speaking, fallen back to the mute state stress forces him into. Clay will make sure he will be able to speak as much as he wants.
"Everything will be fine sunshine. I'll come back for you, I promise." Tommy looked up at him with teary eyes, and oh, Clay's heart might have broken into pieces right then and there.
But he left. He pressed a kiss onto the boy's forehead and left the room, leaving a crying eight year old in the lion's den. Huh, the irony.
Tommy sat at his father's side in the big dining room. He was dressed in a suit that iched, and he felt uncomfortable. The table was way too big, he had to sit on several thick books to reach it, and if he moved even a slightly bit wrong, it could send him to the floor. An hour after Clay left, a sudden letter from the Minecraft maffia arrived, requesting a meeting in regard to a future partnership. His father was in a good mood, that was soared when the letter asked for the heir of the maffia to be present, too, which lead to Tommy sitting in his not-safe seat.
His father drummed on the table, perhaps nervously. Tommy never seen him nervous before. It was five minutes before eight, when the dinner was supposedly beginning. Tommy tought back to what he had known about the minecraft maffia.
It was made by the infamous Angel of death, and his family. It came to be in power after a vacuum was created when the DreamSMP, the biggest maffia of that time, got toren apart by inside conflicts. After a while the Angel of death retired to be with his wife, and his sons took over in lead. The Blood God was the executioner, and the Siren was the jury. One outsanding with the art of fighting, the other charming with words and charisma. And by their sides one advisor each. Siren had Schlatt, a politician who left his spot for unknown reasons, and the Blood God had hypnos, who protected his identity at all costs, usually wearing a white weil connected to a white hat. Many says the hat was a tribute to the angel, or a gift from him. No one knows anything about hypnos, as he rarely shows, and talks even less.
Tommy's train of toughts were interrupted by the door opening, two people entering trough it. The blood god in all his glory, strode in first. His pink hair was braided in a fancy pattern, golden threads shining in the light of the lamps. He wore a white button up shirt, and black pants with leather high heels. Red eyes made eye contact with Tommy and the pinkett waved. The boy waved back.
Next came in a person dressed in all white. White weil fall from a white hat, covering his face and neck. The hat was decorated with neon green wines, that fell over the brim. He wore a white poet shirt and white pants with white dress shoes. White glowes covered his hands, and he reminded Tommy of a fawn. The Blood god pulled out a chair, letting the other guest sit down first, which he did with the grace of a royal. The pinkett soon sat down beside him, and stared at Tommy with a curious gaze. Hypnos's interest also seemed to zero in on Tommy, but it was hard to tell with the veil covering his face.
The food was soon brought out, starting with the appetizer. Tommy ate a bit, but he didn't like caviar. The Blood god and his father were doing small talk, while Hypnos was eating quietly. They brought in the soup, which was quite good, but Tommy was too afraid to ask for a second serving. After soup came the main course, which was also very good. It was fried chicken with cheese melted on it, fried tomatoes and mashed potatoes as the side dish with cucumber salad. The young boy enjoyed it wery much, and he didn't listen to the adults talk at all.
Then came the dessert, and his father decided to bring out some real strong alcohol that looked exactly like water. (The trauma is real. You know if you know.)
That's when all went to shit.
Hypnos smelled his shot glass, then stopped the Blood god from drinking by his arm. The pinkett looked at his right hand man confused, but looked around with a furious expression.
"You." He pointed at Gregory, and Tommy became attrntive real quick. Something interesting was happening! "Come here and drink this." The man commanded, extending the shotglass filled with the alcohol towards the man, who complied and drank the small amount of liquid. His father swallowed hard, and Tommy looked at him confused. Gregory started chocking, and Tommy blinked. Did the man swallow wrong? He did it once. Clay helped him by hitting his back gently untill he could breathe right. Why was no one helping Gregory?
Hypnos shot up, and walked to Tommy with hurried stepps, passing a the boy's father who was now pale as a wall. It was quite funny, to be honest. He let out a confused sound when he was swept into strong arms and the hold was familiar. He looked up and let out a small ghasp. The weil didn't cower Hypnos's face from his wiev, and green eyes, soft and kind like they always were, stared down at him the veil hid both of them from the world, and Tommy was tok busy being surprised to hear the gurgling sounds and a body hitting the ground. He grabbed Clay's poet shirt with his hand, hiding his tears into the soft wool fabric.
"You tried to pison us, after our offer?!" The blood god's voice made him jump a bit, and he peeked out from his best friend's shirt to see his father held down by the blood god. The goons were all frozen in fear.
"H-have mercy!" His father pleaded, his voice all funny and shaky. Was he crying? Who knows.
"Oh yeah, because I'm known about my mercifulness. Do not mistake me for my father, you fool. Altough..." The blood god looked at Tommy, and the boy hid his face. He wasn't shy, not at all! He was a big man! But the blood god was kinda scary.
"Hypnos seems fond of your child." He noted casually, like he talked about the weather.
"You can have i- him!" Tommy clenched Clay's shirt tighter, trembling a bit. The man hushed him a bit.
"Wonderful." The blood god let the man go, and stood up. Hypnos fished out a thermos from under his shirt, no clue how he managed to fit it. Let's say fanfiction logic.
The thermos was pressed against Tommy's mouth, and he started drinking from it out of surprise. There was hot cocoa in it, the drink was soft and made Tommy wery sleepy. He closed his eyes, and pressed a bit more against Clay who smiled at the small blond fondly.
That night the Innit maffia lost it's heir, and the leaders of the Minecraft maffia aquired a son.