Thank you so much for your kind comments! (*sniff* *sob* I'm not touched at all-)

Let's just get right into it, shall we?

TW: mild description of a panic attack

Tommy liked Phil.

He was a kind host. But more than that, he was a kind person.

(Or maybe everyone seemed kind compared to Dream.)

Phil gave Tommy some new clothes ("Don't worry about it, it's just a few things that Wilbur outgrew.") and made him some food. Tommy couldn't remember the last time he ate, other than the cookies Niki gave him, and he was ravenous.

"Slow down, mate!" Phil laughed as Tommy shoved a third sandwich in his mouth. "You'll make yourself sick. I don't want you puking all over my couch." The old man settled on a comfy chair and picked up a book.

He forced himself to chew slower. He was still a bit shaken up after... well, everything. What had happened with that Tubbo kid?

More importantly, what had happened with Ranboo?

He had a husband. Why would he stay behind?

"The... the mind control messed with my powers a bit,"

"You mean you didn't know?"

"I can't go with you."

"You must've realized by now, but he's not- he's done a lot of bad things, and he's doing a lot of bad things- to you especially, but also to a lot of people."

"You don't hurt people you love."

"You alright, Tommy?" Phil's voice snapped him back to the present.

"Hey, Phil?" Tommy set his sandwich down.

The old bird man looked up from his book and raised an eyebrow. "Yeah?"

"...What do you know about mind control?"

Phil sighed. He closed and set down his book. "This is about Dream, isn't it?" Tommy didn't answer. "Alright, I'll tell you what I know, but it's not a lot."

He motioned for Tommy to sit on the chair next to him.

"Where to start? Pretty much everyone knows this, but Dream can mind control people. It's his power, which is really OP if you ask me."

"What else do you know about it?" Tommy questioned, urging him to continue.

Phil scratched his chin. "Honestly? There's not much else I can say except that no one's ever gotten out of mind control before. This is just a rumor, but I've heard that people who DO escape mind control have amnesia."

"Amnesia?"

"Memory loss."

"Oh." Tommy thought about that for a moment. "Wait, but if no one's ever broken free of the mind control, then how do you know about the amnesia?"

"Well..." Phil paused. "There is this one story- again, just a rumor- about a couple of people who got themselves brainwashed. Supposedly, they started a cult and then died or some shit. I can't say I know much about it."

"Well, who would?"

Phil huffed out a short laugh. "You're determined, huh?"

"Yeah, I guess."

"You'll want to talk to Puffy. She runs an orphanage."

Tommy stood up. "Thank you for everything, Phil." He straightened his new jacket and grabbed his shoes, putting them on and tying his shoelaces.

"Hold up, kid." He paused and turned to Phil, whose face held traces of concern. "You sure you want to go out there? You could stay here, you'll be safe."

He considered it. Oh, how he considered it. It was tempting. Kind people, free food, shelter from Dream.

But in the short time he'd had his freedom, he'd contemplated a few things. He was always hiding behind other people. He was always relying on someone to come save him.

First it was Dream. He'd wanted a big brother so fucking badly that he was willing to ignore how he treated him. Then it was Ranboo, who helped him escape. Then it was Tubbo, who hid him from the cops. Then it was Phil, who'd given him a place to stay.

He was tired of always running. He was tired of always relying on the first person to show him a smidge of kindness. It was time to be a fucking man, for fuck's sake!

It was time to help someone for a change. He had to save Ranboo! No more running away like a fucking child!

"We're gonna get outta here, all of us, yeah?"

"Thanks for the offer, Phil," Tommy grinned at him, "But I've got a friend to save."

Phil smiled and nodded. He looked pleased. "Go on, then." He stood up and grabbed a blue backpack, which had previously been sitting on the table. Tommy hadn't even noticed it.

The older man handed the bag to Tommy. "Here, some supplies for the road. There's a mask and sunglasses in there, as well as a map and a bunch of other useful things."

A lump formed in Tommy's chest and he found that he had to blink away tears. "You- you knew I'd choose to go?"

Phil winked at him. "I had a hunch. Wilbur may be able to see into the future, but I've gotten good at reading people over the years."

"Thank you." Tommy slung on the backpack and put on the mask and glasses, which had been in the front pocket.

"Good luck, Tommy." Phil patted him on the shoulder.

"Wish me luck, Tommy."

This was going to be a lot more difficult than he thought.

He'd pulled out the map of the city and found Puffy's orphanage. Only problem- it happened to be on the other side of the city. Great. Fan-fucking-tastic.

He pulled the hood up on his new jacket as he passed by a group of cops. They were swarmed around some people- it looked like they were questioning some people.

He stuck his hands in his pockets and kept walking. As long as he didn't run into any trouble, it shouldn't take him too long to reach Puffy's orphanage.

It was a tall building, and his room was on the very top.

He rubbed his forehead. Headaches weren't an uncommon occurrence for him, but they'd been getting worse lately.

He woke up in a cold room, not knowing how he got there. Not knowing anything at all.

He kept walking. His footsteps were rhythmic. He started humming a song.

"This is just a rumor, but I've heard that people who DO escape mind control have amnesia."

"Amnesia?"

"Memory loss."

Memory loss.

Wait a minute.

Tommy froze mid-step.

Okay. Okay okay okay. So Dream could mind control people. And supposedly, the people he mind controlled had memory loss. And he couldn't remember shit before about a year ago, when he woke up in Dream's mansion.

Had he... had he been mind controlled? Was he still being mind controlled?? Would he even realize it if he was??

Did Ranboo have memory loss?? It didn't seem like it... But then again, what did he know?

Shit. Fuck.

Tommy grabbed at the hair on the side of his head. Okay. Okay. This was fine.

The buildings around him suddenly seemed much taller and the air seemed much thinner and the people seemed much scarier and everything was too big and he was too small and oh no oh no oh no no no-

Fuck. He was hyperventilating. He couldn't hyperventilate, not now, not in the middle of the sidewalk. He had important things to do. He had to keep moving.

He could worry about whatever fucked up shit was going on with his brain and memory loss and whatever later. Right now, he had to get to the orphanage.

He breathed in deeply through his nose. Yeah, he just had to get to the orphanage. He focused on that.

He kept walking. He wanted to hide. Somewhere safe, with four strong walls to protect him from the world.

He kept walking.

Tubbo got back to Phil's house fairly quickly. He knocked on the door a couple of times before Phil let him in.

"Oh hey, there you are." Phil smiled, but it was strained. "I, uh, heard what happened."

He held Michael a little closer to him. "Yeah." He responded shortly. "Where's Tommy?"

"Tommy?" Phil looked surprised by the question. "He left a few minutes ago- went to go hunt down information about Dream's mind control."

Can't explode. Not now. Tubbo told himself. Not with Michael.

"Where exactly did he go?" He asked.

"He went to Puffy's." Phil said as he walked into the kitchen. He turned on the stove and fished a kettle out of the cabinet. "Me and her aren't on the... best terms, but I'm sure she'll help him."

"Puffy?" Tubbo repeated. "Doesn't she have that orphanage? The one Ranboo grew up in?"

Phil nodded as he filled the kettle up with water. Michael squirmed around in his arms, and Tubbo gently set him down in the living room. The toddler was ecstatic at being freed, and he zoomed around in circles.

"How exactly would Puffy help him with info about mind control?" Tubbo's eyebrows furrowed. He kept a close eye on both his son and Phil.

The old crow was friendly, but he had a habit of keeping important things to himself.

"Oh, a while back she had a couple of friends who got brainwashed or whatever." Phil shrugged. "It was before Dream took over, but I'm pretty sure he had something to do with it. I think that one of them died and the other one started some kind of cult."

Tubbo frowned. How had he not heard about this before?

It sounded like he needed to go to Puffy's, but...

His gaze fell on his son, who was crawling around and laughing like he was having the time of his life.

Should he have left him with Eret? Picking him up probably wasn't the smartest move, but he didn't want to leave his son for a second.

But it's not like he could bring the toddler with him to Puffy's place... well, he could, but how was he supposed to watch over him AND hunt down Tommy?

"Well well well, Philza." A voice came from the hallway. Wilbur was leaning against the wall.

"Hey Will," Phil greeted cheerily, "Want some tea?"

"I'll pass." Wilbur crossed his arms. "Now, what was that you were saying? Something about yet another secret you're keeping?"

"It's not a secret." Phil replied easily. "I thought you knew."

"Why aren't you and Puffy on good terms?" Wilbur asked.

"We had a... disagreement."

"About what?"

"You, actually."

"About-" That took Wilbur off guard. His face didn't hide his surprise. "About me?"

"Yeah." Phil shrugged. "And the Syndicate as a whole. She didn't agree with how I raised you, or Techno and Tubbo. And, well, after the whole... erm, Ranboo situation..." Phil glanced at Tubbo before continuing. "We had a big argument about how I was 'dragging children into a fight.'"

"So..." Tubbo tried to ignore the pitying looks Phil was giving him. "Tommy was asking about mind control, so you sent him to Puffy?"

"Yep."

"Well, come on Tubbo!" Wilbur marched to the front door and grabbed his jacket off the coat hanger. "We don't have any time to waste!"

"Wait, uh..." Tubbo scooped up Michael.

"I can look after him, if you want."

Tubbo looked at Philza and then back at his son for a few moments before nodding. Phil practically raised him. He trusted him.

Phil took Michael gently in his arms. Tubbo hated leaving him there. He wanted to take him away somewhere safe, far away from this fucking city.

He walked out of the house for the second time that day. And as he closed the door behind him, with Wilbur yelling at him to hurry up, he heard the kettle whistling.

It's a little late, but y'know what, that's alright.

Hope you enjoyed chapter eight! Thank you so much for reading!

I've been having really bad writer's block for the past few weeks but I'm working on it lol.

Also- one of my irl friends found out that I write fanfiction, so that's fun. And by fun I mean mildly humiliating, but it's all good.

Besides, I already threatened to rip out their eyeballs if they told anyone, so it should be fine! :)

Anyways, happy reading, and have a great week!