All is Fair in War || SBI || Mafia AU

࿏ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 8 ࿏

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The Past

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Phil looked at Tubbo, the boy had gotten better and was walking around. He watched as the boy poured himself some juice and put the bottle back in the fridge. He walked with a small limp as it hurt him too much to move the lower part of his body but he seemed fine. Phil was yet to know what happened, Ranboo didn't even know how he got injured. Apparently, no shots were fired and there was no real way for Tubbo to get an injury like that.

He had been monitoring the teenager, worried for him. When Wil had come to his father later that day with blood on his hands and clothes along with Jack Manifold who had a distraught Tommy in his arms, he knew that something was wrong. Tommy told his side, explaining what had happened and that he had walked up to see his best friend collapse into the wall.

Tubbo walked over and placed the cup onto the coffee table and took a seat next to the blonde. Phil moved the cushions slightly to help the boy.

"I'm capable" he groaned as he stared out the windowed wall. The leader of the syndicate smiled softly, as much as he seemed like a ruthless man with no mercy, he loved his boys dearly whether they were blood or not. Even the scariest person apart from Phil, that being Techno and Quackity, would agree that the man had a heart of gold. He did all this for his boys.

"I don't doubt you, mate, just being cautious. You still haven't told anyone what happened"

"Because Noah would scold me and tell me how stupid I was and to be more careful" Tubbo complained with an eye roll and hand gesture. Noah was his cousin; Foolish. Currently, the identity of Foolish was unknown to the police force, they had no photo of him so they couldn't identify him, they only knew his code name. He worked mainly behind the scenes, only getting his hands dirty if need be. He was also someone you didn't want to mess with

The opened wound was a reminder of his childhood, a memory he would rather not remember. His father was a horrid man who enjoyed hurting his son, giving him a scar on his stomach by throwing a broken bottle at him because dinner wasn't ready by the time he got home.

Phil chuckled lightly as he fell into the back of the lounge. Tubbo was a good kid, sure, he was a little trigger-happy when it came to weapons and loved nukes and bombs but he had a heart of gold and cared for those in his life dearly. He was a boy who had seen too much in his early childhood and just needed a way to let out his anger.

Tubbo didn't care if he was a criminal, as long as he was happy, he just didn't care.

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Tubbo sat on his bed attempting his homework. He was a math guy, not an English one. The words jumbled into one, nothing made sense to him. His teachers stressed him out too much and gave him too much homework, always being criticized by his peers for his inability to read without stuttering or finish copying notes in time. He had had many different breakdowns over it.

His house was quiet, not even a creak as he sat alone. He didn't know where his father was, probably at a bar if he was being honest, and he never knew his mother. His cousin, Noah, had only met him once but he was a nice guy; the only reason he never got to see him was that his father wouldn't let him.

He closed the book in front of him, deciding he would just end up in tears and that starting dinner early would be his best bet because maybe then his father wouldn't hit him for being late with the food.