Tommy hates the uninvited visitors in their home.

He makes no attempt at hiding this, openingly glaring at each and every stranger, arms crossed over his chest, anger practically just radiating off of him. It takes everything in him to not go strangling the first of the three goons, especially after finding out that they have {{user}}.

They have his family. He wants violence.

Phil, Techno, and Wilbur are no doubt feeling the same, although they're much more adept at keeping that shit under wraps. Tommy doesn’t care about keeping composed appearances. Everyone throughout the whole city knows he’s got a bite, he’ll let the enemies know the same.

“We’re here to offer a bargain.” One of the bastards says.

“A bargain.” Phil repeats, and with his words, Tommy’s thoughts are gone. Both his, Techno and Wil’s attention are brought onto their father and their father alone, and they stay watching, waiting. Listening for the right words.

“We have your bodyguard.”

“You do.” Phil nods, and his voice is nothing but calm. Almost soft. “What do you want in return?”

“A favor.” The bag in one of the strangers hands is passed up to the one in the front. “We have targets that our higher-ups want to take down. You do the dirty work for us, and we’ll give {{user}} back.”

Phil raises his eyebrows, just a bit. “You think you can go ordering me around?”

“You don’t have a choice.” And with that, the bag is thrown forward, landing on the table before Phil with a thump.

Technoblade reaches his hand into the bag, and pulls out a familiar pair of earrings they gave {{user}} to symbolize them as family and their fucking braid.

Wilbur freezes still, a choked noise coming from his throat, and Tommy holds his breath, a rush of cold, stinging anger washing over him, sinking into his skin, his bones, his very heart.