Please. Please just breathe. Tommy knew he was being watched. He didn't want to have a melt down in front of Phil. Just breathe. What was that method Technoblade used? Or was it Bad? He couldn't remember who it was, all he knew was that he had to calm down.

Five things he could see. That seemed simple enough. What could he see, what could he see? His vision was mostly blurred, so Tommy decided to focus his breathing into regular intervals. There. Now his vision was clearer, he could make out his surroundings.

Well, Tommy could see the school lockers. They were from floor to ceiling, two stacked on top of each other, painted a deep blue. That's the first thing, he was a fifth of the way there!

Next, Tommy looked to the ground to see his worn down trainers. They were dirty and covered in mud, but they were there. He could see them.

At this point, his vision was stronger and could focus on more details. Tommy looked to the right to see a display board. It had all sorts of different posters and advertisements; the closest one being an invitation to join the school chess club.

Tommy could see Phil's face a few metres in front of his own. That's who was watching him. Tommy couldn't believe this method was actually working; this was the first time he'd stopped a panic attack on his own.

Only one more thing to spot. Tommy looked down at himself to see some sort of harness around him. He did it! That was five! He'd finally calmed down from the panic attack!

Wait what-

Tommy stared at the harness in disbelief, before staring back up at Phil. It crossed his body in an x shape. Usually it could just take a simple pull of the velcro, but this one had been hole punched, with a small lock keeping it in place as well. What. The. Fuck.

"WHAT THE FUCK PHIL!? GET THIS CHILD TOY OFF OF ME BEFORE I RIP IT OFF MYSELF!"

"Not going to happen. Now calm down and let's get you to... maths. I've already warned the teachers about this, so don't expect any sympathy from them. You've brought this upon yourself."

Tommy started squirming around in the harness. How was he expected to focus in lessons with this... cage around him?

"Please Phil! I promise I'll be good, just let me go!" His voice cracked at the end of that sentence, but he didn't care. Tommy just wanted this leash off.

"No. Maybe if you show me that you can behave, we can have this conversation later. Right now, we're going to maths."

Unshed tears started forming in the corners of his eyes, threatening to fall. Not this time. Tommy was not going to be a weak little kid this time. He was going to fight back.

He shuffled his foot back on the ground, getting a good grip. His jaw was clenched, hands in fists by his side.

There was a split second hesitation. Was he sure he wanted to do this? Yes.

Tommy launched a fist at Phil's face, hitting I'm square in the nose, causing the senior to stumble back. Tommy would be celebrating, except he was preparing his next attack. He took a swing at Phil's stomach, making him double over in pain. Tommy was about to throw another punch, when he suddenly stopped. Phil wasn't fighting back.

"Fight back! Come on, you scared!?" Tommy shook Phil's shoulders slightly, bringing him out of the pain-induced daze.

"N-no. Tommy I don't want to hurt you. Just comply."

"Not a fucking chance you mother fu-"

Phil yanked on the child harness. Hard. Tommy stumbled forward, just catching himself before he hit the cold, hard floor. He glared at Phil, who cast a smug glance back.

"Hurting you would go again the code of conduct. This however," he motioned towards the lead and harness, "is completely legal. Now behave before I do something worse."

Tommy was about to protest, when he was a blur out of his peripheral vision. Was that- Wilbur! Tommy darted full-thrust towards the boy, only to get yanked back by Phil.

"Let me go!"

"If you mean go to math class, then sure."

Tommy scowled, but said nothing. His protests weren't going to get himself anywhere. No matter how much, he scowled, he wasn't getting anywhere - but if looks cold kill, Phil would have been burning in the fiery pits of hell centuries ago. Right where he belongs, thought Tommy.

Tommy's feet dragged along the ground; a weak attempt to postpone maths. Who in their own right mind liked maths!? Apparently Phil by the way he was happily pulling Tommy down the hallways.

Tommy was pushed into the room before Phil, and begrudgingly took a seat at the back of the classroom. He was just bout to get out his books, when he heard a loud click dome from his desk. He looked down to see that Phil had freaking chained him to the desk like a wild animal! The strap was looped around the desk, held in place by yet another small lock. Tommy looked up to see Phil putting a key ring full of keys in his pocket. That imbecile! He was just about to unleash a long line of swears, when the teacher cleared their throat, gaining the attention of the class.

"Okay year 9 A, today we're going over indices and root numbers, using decimals and fractions. Please flip to page ninety seven of your exercise books."

The sound of forty students flipping pages filled the otherwise silent room. Tommy skimmed over the page, and internally groaned. This was so boring. Considering Phil had literally attached him to the desk, he had no excusable route. How was he going to bear staying quiet throughout the whole lesson? Spoiler alert: he wasn't.

Tommy got out his worn-down maths book, and worked through the questions, completely blocking out that the teacher was saying, and focusing on the work in front of him. Tommy was done in less than thirty seconds, and was now looking profusely bored. He started tapping his fingers on the desk, before patting his foot to the beat of an imaginary song.

Gosh - it felt like hours had passed, but when he looked to the clock at the front, it had been little over a minute. This lesson was insufferable. The ticking of the clock seemed to slow down, and Tommy felt like universe was just mocking him. Great. Boredom turned to exasperated, which in turn turned to mischief. If Tommy couldn't storm out, he was going t o start a scene in the classroom instead of out.

He turned to an unused page in his notebook, before ripping it out. He took out a protractor, and started measuring angles, making small cuts across the paper. Tommy was in his own world. Even if someone had called his name, he wouldn't have responded.

After about ten minutes, he'd finished drawing lines. Tommy took out a second page and started carefully tracing along the self-made stencil. After he'd made about seven of the line-fulled sheets, be began folding along the lines. He took his time, ensuring every fold was perfect and neat.

At some point through the lesson, Phil glanced up to see what Tommy was doing. He was about to interrupt, but the boy looked so focused, and his work was laying discarded to one side, already completed.

There! His masterpieces were finally finished! Tommy took out a small rubber band ball from his bag, and took off two. He snapped one in half, and knotted it around the other. Tommy had created a miniature spring, and looped one end around the corner of his table. He held the other in his index finger, and loaded the first peice of paper onto the contraption.

Only now did Phil realise that Tommy had created seven immaculate paper aeroplanes. They had small flaps on the end of each wing, and a minuscule hook underneath. The point was twisted and sharp, with a straightened-out paper clip running through the middle, strengthening the design.

Phil raised his eyebrows in an impressed manor. Tommy smirked. Wait what?

Before Phil could get a warning in, Tommy pulled back, and launched the first airplane. It headed straight for the front left row. No less than a second later, the next airplane was launched to the front right. Airplanes were sent to the middle left and middle right as well, and a final airplane was sent to the teacher at the front.

Tommy's smirk grew, and no less than a second layer, shredded paper (much like confetti on a budget) began raining down on the classroom!! Under closer inspection, there was a small compartment under each airplane filled to the brim with these tiny pieces. When Tommy had launched them, the spring tore off the bottom, allowing the filings to fall down, creating havoc around the classroom!

All eyes immediately went to Tommy, who only laughed at everyone's surprised faces. It was hilarious! Even the stern teacher at the front was covered in little pieces of white. Their scowls only made it more hilarious for Tommy, who nearly fell of his chair from laughter.

"Mr Innit!" Tommy immediately tensed at the mention of his surname, "How dare you! Detention after school."

"Can't." Tommy was finding it very hard to keep a straight face hen his teacher literally had a paper airplane sticking to her hair.

"What do you mean you can't!? I'm giving you detention - it isn't optional."

"Although I'd love to agree with you there, I've already got detention today... and the next. Actually, I'm backed up all the way to the end of my schooling years... and then some more! I'd estimate maybe ten, twenty years worth. So sorry to burst your bubble, but I simply can't attend another. It's literally impossible."

The teacher was left spluttering for a response, before finally regaining composure once again. "Alright then, come and solve this equation up of the board." She smirked. This was left up there from her year thirteen class, meaning there was no way Tommy would be able to answer it. In some ways, his embarrassment would be an even better punishment than detention. She held out a board pen expectantly.

Tommy briefly looked up at the board. "2.397"

She looked at him for a second. "Sorry, what?"

"2.397. The answer is 2.397."

The lady looked back at the board, and clicked through the slideshow until she got to the answer, which was 2.397. "H-how?"

Tommy just raised an eyebrow. "This lesson is boring. Can I go now?"

The teacher shook her head in disbelief, and approached Tommy's desk; the rest of the class looking on at the scene in awe. She handed him a small stack of papers. "Can you please complete these for me Tommy?"The blonde groaned, but got to work all the same.

Phil just stared at the interaction. Tommy had just completed a year thirteen sum like it was noting! Phil knew it was too advanced for their year, because it was too advanced for him as well. The only class above his group was year thirteen. Did that teacher really just ask Tommy a year thirteen equation (the oldest in the school)? And he got it right!?

Phil quickly scribbled it down in his notes, and curiously glanced at the abandoned spring in the corner of Tommy's desk. Under closer inspection, it was using the physics theory his class had learnt the other day! Did Tommy know this?

Suddenly Phil started feeling rather bad about the way he'd been treating Tommy. Sure, he'd been told all about him from his father, and told how to deal with him. He'd protested that the measures were far too extreme, but the man assured him that it was the only way to keep Tommy under control. He wanted to believe him after the Wilbur incident, he really did, (or at least hear the poor child out) but the guardian had told Phil that all he would do was lie, so there was no point in even listening.

After seeing how passionately Tommy had designed the airplane attack, Phil was starting to doubt that Tommy was as bad as his father had said. He could be controlled through other, much kinder methods. Wait no - Tommy didn't even need to be controlled! Gosh - Phil had been behaving like such an idiot. He was so blind, he didn't even realise how smart Tommy was. Phil readied in that moment why Tommy was misbehaving. He was bored.

That was the reason, not the pathetic excuse his father had made up. Wait - Tommy's father had really called the school just to ensure that his own child would have a terrible time at school!? What the fuck-

Phil's relief disappeared as quickly as it had appeared. Why had his father done that? Did Tommy have a good home? What was he going through? Shit - Phil had just chained up a possibly abused child. Oh fuck. He'd messed up big time; all because he'd believed Tommy's father. He should have observed the child fairly, not been bias to the father's warnings. Shit shit shit shit shit. How had he messed up so badly!?

Phil was brought out of his thoughts by Tommy's victory whoop. Judging by the teacher's shocked expression, he guessed it was something to do with his answers being correct? Wow - that was incredible! It hadn't even been two minutes, and Tommy was finished.

Phil's head was spinning, and he needed to talk to Tommy about this, but how could he take the child out in the middle of the lesson? He couldn't. He had to just sit there, drowning in his own thoughts. He was going to have to make it up to Tommy; big time.

Tommy wasn't really surprised that he'd gotten all of the questions correct. They really weren't hard. Looking around, he saw his fellow classmates' mouths open in shock. His teacher had a supervised, but pleased look on her face, even Phil had a proud look on his eyes.

Wait Phil? Why was Phil pleased? Tommy thought Phil hated him... weird. The blonde shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He was used to the bad kinds of attention, not this new-found glory.

"So... now what?" He hated the way his voice squeaked at the end of that.

"Now what? Tommy, this is incredible. Not even I could do something like this that fast. Kid... this is unbelievable! You've just proven that you're smarter than all of my year thirteens put together!? Where did you learn to do something like this?"

"I uh..." Actually, Tommy didn't know where he'd learnt it. He just sort of... picked it up? He guessed that it came naturally to him. "It just happens. I don't know."

Gosh this was so awkward. Tommy was wishing the shocked silence was because he'd done something bad, not good. Now Plecoptera were going to have expectations. Oh no - what were they going to say when he inevitably lets them down.

It was all getting too much, and he decided he needed to leave. There was just one problem: he was attached to his desk. There was no way that he was going to bring that up in front of all of his classmates. No. Way.

Tommy just sucked in a breath, and focused on keeping calm. PHIL! Phil was the one to teach him the five things hr could see! It suddenly came back to him. But why? Didn't Phil hate him? Thinking back, they were outside, sitting on that secluded bench. He was having a panic about... what was it? Gremlin.

Oh no- his dad! What would Tommy's father say if the school told him!? Probably that he was disrupting the class again? Oh this was bad; last time he got a call from the school, Tommy had ended up with three broken ribs, causing him to be absent for a week. His father only got more mad when he discovered that Tommy had skipped school. That night was truly terrible.

Tommy's hands began to shake. He dig his nails into his wrists (as a force of habit) only to flinch back. He'd hit a cut from when he'd... Tommy didn't want to think about it. Without being able to dig his nails in, Tommy's hands started shaking even more.

A wave of dizziness washed over the boy. His dad was going to be so mad! What would he do? What could he do? Anything. He could get away with anything, and no one would believe Tommy, even if he told them. Tommy was brought back to reality by a small tap on the shoulder. He looked over to see Phil looking at him worriedly.

"We can leave if you want. I have something to discuss with you anyway." Phil waited for Tommy to slowly nod his head, before unclipping the harness altogether and leaving the room (leash now stuffed inside his backpack, out of sight). Why had he unclimbed the harness? Tommy hadn't been good; he'd literally unleashed confetti-on-a-budget all over the classroom. Where were they going?

Phil seemed to notice Tommy's hesitance. "Come on Tommy. I just want to chat. I really regret the harness thing. Actually, I'm starting to regret a lot of things. I was wrong about you. I'm sorry."