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Life is like an hourglass
It tips one way in the favor of the people, and tips the other way in the favor of time. When one side runs out, the other fills the gaping hole that was left.
Imagine each grain of sand like a moment in your life. Sometimes those moments are filled with joy. They’re filled with happy memories of the people you love and others you hold dear to your heart.
Sometimes those moments are stagnant. Sometimes they only bring you pain, like pressure waiting to release that fills you with dread at every twist and turn.
Happy memories don’t last forever, because people don’t. You think you know people, but you don’t. Maybe you never did. Maybe all of this was for nothing.
Maybe they will never change. It has to be a step you take, and one you take alone.
Walking across that thin line, wondering how you even made it as far as you did with the life you continue to lead. That´s the irony of it all, because no one gets to decide what to do with this life but you.
You get to decide who you live it with.
So the hourglass should never favor one side over the other. And yet, when the hand tilts the glass, the grains move on command. It’s too steep of a climb to go the other way.
Tick, tick, tick.
Time speeds up, so the moments you want to last forever do too.
Maybe there is some light in friendship. Maybe there is joy in knowing you’re worth living. Your friends keep you alive, and when you need them most, they decide you aren’t worth the breathe.
You’re left on an island alone as the grains of time tick to your demise.
You find solace in a little ghost friend, but even he does not set on the path you want to walk.
You may find peace in the feeling of being alone.
The days go by in a blur, because why remember much of what pains you to see? Why remember what he did?
Why remember the sounds of TNT?
Why remember the way your soul shuddered? Why remember when he took a piece of that very soul, beautiful and bright, and ripped it apart over and over? Why remember the kindness he showed you, just for it to be a lie?
Why remember what so many struggle to comprehend?
The human mind is a complex little thing. It knows when you’re in pain, it knows when you feel depression like a freight train, but for all its wonders and woes, the one thing it will never know, is when not to trust the side of the people.
Time is not on Tommy’s side. The people never seem to be either.
“The hand that mocked them, The heart that fed.”
Tommy trudges through the snow, the torn edges of his shirt whipping helplessly through the wind. Tommy is not his own martyr, no. He is a person. A person with thoughts, ideals, memories good and bad… or he was. He was that person. Now he doesn't even know himself anymore. Those memories blur together. It hurts to think about who he could be.
Dream said Tommy was not his own person. That Tommy belonged to him with every breath he takes, every soul in his hands, every sliver of white hair that crowns Tommy´s head like an irreversible curse.
That isn't me, Tommy decides. He also knows that he could be wrong. Maybe being his little follower to the only friend that stuck by Tommy's side is all he will ever be good for. Tommy is a bad person, that did bad things, so he needs a punishment. Maybe having his soul wrenched apart and his heart torn just for it to be rebuilt like nothing ever happened was all he was worthy of in this life.
Maybe he never deserved any of it at all. They say the first step in change is realizing that your situation isn´t and won´t be the way you wish it was.
He wants to leave the bad behind him. Nothing good comes from green.
His knees bleed, but he ignores it. Safety is at the forefront of his mind. Even as the numb feeling seeps through his feet from the snow, biting at his toes and making him wince with every single step.
Tommy´s brain begs him to go back. It tells him he is safe with Dream, that where he is going will get him killed, staked in the snow, but Tommy doesnt know what else to do. His white hair hurts his very being. It isn't his. He is a shell of the he once was. And then there is another part of him that knows he´ll be safe where he ends up. That he never deserved any of it and that Dream is just a psychopath.
He thought he had nothing to live for, and now he lives for the hope that it will never be true.
He won’t let the hourglass tip over him. He refuses to let the people, or the hands of time, hurt his beautiful human soul ever again.
༺♡༻
“To be your own martyr”, Wilbur begins on a sunny day, way back when. It’s a quiet sound, and Tommy has to strain his ears to listen. The trees flow gently through the wind, utop the hill where L’manburg began. “Is not someone to strive to be. You show your true self when you are. Do you sacrifice for yourself, or for the betterment of humanity?.”
He plucks a string and the wind carries the sound. Tommy stares at the flowers beneath his feet. “You define your self worth by how much you care about those around you. But why sacrifice for others if you don’t mean much to history in the end.”
༺♡༻
¨You know, I trusted you Tommy.¨
Those words hit Tommy harder than they ever should have. Trust is such a fragile conception. If you place your trust in someone, hoping they will be the way you want, it never turns out that way. He knows himself to be proof of that. His hair is almost fully white.
His hand twitches, itching to move up to his neck where the ghost prints of those fingers around his neck that squeezed the life out of him burn on his scarred skin. He doesn't move his hand, though. Maybe it's the fear that Dream won't like it, or maybe it's the exhaustion that pulls his arms down like gravity. It may as well be both.
In the start of exile, he thought that Tubbo would come to his senses. Quackity and Fundy seemed pretty much against it. Tommy hoped that they would be able to convince Tubbo that he is being stupid and needs to let Tommy back into L'manburg. But what is hope if you don't trust the people you are putting your hope in? Tommy doesn´t know, and he quite honestly might never again.
Every day, like clockwork, Dream would come. He would take Tommy to a hole he dug and make Tommy drop his things in the hole. Dream called it punishment and at first, Tommy called it being a manipulative asshole.
Dream told him he was looking out for Tommy. That he had Tommy´s best interests at heart. This is the same man who has already killed Tommy twice. This is the man who made Tubbo exile him. That was Tubbo's choice, his brain tells him. He had to do what was best for the country, not what was best for Tommy.
Sometimes Dream would make him cover his ears. TNT is loud, and every time it makes his ears ring, it's like he´s right back in L'manburg on the 16th. He could practically smell the death that followed that day. Wilbur's corpse in Phil's arms as his father sobbed is forever seared into his brain. The hum the withers emit, the pure skin searing heat that licked his skin as he screamed for Techno to stop.
Other times, Dream makes him experience TNT at full volume. It probably damaged his hearing beyond repair. Tommy knows it doesn´t matter, because his hearing wasn't that great after all the wars anyways.
He should have known that nothing ever comes easy for him. Now, on this island, alone and bare, not a sentient being to say his name but one. He had Ghostbur for a bit, sure. He found solace in the fact that his brother, as dead as he is, is near him.
Things with Ghostbur were fun, or at least tolerable, until it wasn't. After Tommy had given Ghostbur those invitations to his birthday party, he never saw Ghostbur afterwards. At first, maybe the ghost had gotten lost. Not the smartest tool in the box. Tommy did not want to believe it had been Dream. Back then, he saw Dream as his only friend. Even if he yelled at Tommy, even if he hit Tommy, even if he blew up his stuff, he was Tommy´s only friend. Tubbo very much made it clear he did not want to see Tommy.
He was alone on his birthday, watching the waves crash ashore. Dream was there, Dream was his friend, Dream kept him company. Tommy had taken out his compass. Your Tubbo engraved on the rim. He ran his fingers over the engraving, feeling the rough texture like its grounding him. Then he brought his arm back, ready to throw it into the sea. If Tubbo didn't care for him, why should he care for Tubbo? He ignored the part of him that wanted to hold onto it, hold it close and never let go. Dream had caught his wrist.
¨Don´t throw it in¨, he had said. ¨Tubbo has't forgotten you.¨
Tommy believed Dream then. Now, he doesn´t know what to believe.
The first time Dream lost his shit was when Tommy refused to throw a pickax into the hole. He had worked really hard for it over countless hours of mining. All Tommy wanted was to keep this for himself, just one thing. He had clutched the pickax tightly.
The one lesson Dream taught him was to obey. It was what he uttered to Tommy as the boat rowed away from L'manburg, away from home and everything he has ever known.
That was the first time Dream did something about Tommy´s disobedience. It had festered up over a long period between Tommy cussing him out or snuggling up on a cold, windy night.
Dream had torn the pickax from Tommy's grip, which caused friction burns. The cold wind felt good on them, soothing the nerves, but Tommy still hissed and clutched his hand tightly to his chest. Dream tossed the pickax to the side, and stalked up to Tommy. Tommy oh so wished he could see the face under the mask to make Dream easier to read. Dream, much like Techno, was always able to keep his posture unreadable. Tommy took a step back, the gravel moving under his feet as he did so. He looked to the side where his pickax lay, wondering why he went against Dream. It never ended well before, not when he dueled Dream for L’manburgs independence, not when Pogtopia rose up against Dream, not the very day Dream told Tubbo that Tommy was a liability. Especially not when Tubbo agreed.
Dream’s fingers slipped through his inventory briefly, the only sign of him doing so that he raised his hand. Tommy’s eyes flickered down to his own. Nothing to defend himself. Why would he need to defend himself from his friend?
Because it´s Dream, Tommy.
That doesn't make sense. Dream is his friend. Dream stuck by his side. Dream is nice.
Tommy, stuck in his head, did not see the sword Dream had drawn until it was too late. The swipe sounded through the air, and Tommy felt it slice through the flesh of his stomach. He felt the searing pain as blood oozed out of the wound.
Dream pushed him to the ground, and Tommy felt the air knocked out of whatever was left of his lungs. They were filling up, and Tommy struggled to get air into his airway that filled quickly with blood.
His vision blurred as Tommy tried to lift his head. He saw boots stop right next to him, a sword with blood dripping from the hinge lowered to the snow. A hand came to his chin to move it roughly.
Dream stared down at him, a tilt in his head. Tommy’s heart pounded with all the strength it had. Tommy lifted a hand slowly to take Dream’s and give it what he hoped was a squeeze. Dream did not return the favor.
He dropped Tommy’s chin, and ran his hand down Tommy’s cheek. The touch burned just as much as the wound across Tommy’s stomach did.
¨You should have listened to me,¨ Dream chuckled. Then it turned to full on wheezing. ¨I mean honestly, how naive are you?¨
Tommy’s eyes widened and he opened his mouth, but the words were lodged beneath the blood in his throat. He let out a wheezed cough, blood splattering on the ground, touched only by the growing pool beneath his body.
Dream sighed. ¨Honestly pet, I wonder how Tubbo kept you with him as long as he did. That took real strength, I admit.¨ Tommy hated how the touch reminded him of Wilbur´s. It felt comforting and Tommy hated every second of it.
Tubbo. Tubbo would see Tommy’s death message in chat. Surely, by the grace of XD, Tubbo would know something is wrong. Tubbo would mourn him.
Right?
Tommy pushed weekly at Dream´s chest as his vision blurred even more. Dream pushed him back down and shrugged off the touch. ¨This will teach you a lesson, and if you get back, maybe we can put it into practice.¨
Get back? What does that mean? Tommy’s hands finally dropped. His chest stopped moving, his eyes losing their wondrous, remarkable spark.
And the last thing he saw was a book appearing in Dream’s hands, and Dream chanting an incantation from said book. The ground rumbled, and Tommy’s vision went black.
༺♡༻
¨You know, I trusted you Tommy.¨
Tommy stands in the middle of the ruined secret room under logstedshire. Smoke fills the air, the fire faintly licking his face and making his eyes water. His throat burns, and he has to clench his fists to his side to stop from scratching at it.
The chest where he had hid his stuff is gone, blown by TNT. He had worked hard for that stuff. He had lost sleep over the countless hours of mining. He doesn’t even know why he bothers to try anymore.
Dream tilts his head, his mask gleaning under the sunset. He tisked as he looked through the contents of what was in the chest. “After all I have done for you, and this is how you repay me?”
Tommy’s breath catches and he barely suppresses a shudder. “It-its not like that Dream-”
“I didn’t say you could speak”, Dream’s voice is clipped and cold. Tommy winces and nods, looking down at his feet like a child who had received a scolding.
Dream continues. “What was lesson number one?”
“Obedience is key”, Tommy recites on command by memory. It's almost a robotic tone, but it's still as human as he is. “People who aren’t obedient to those who give them fortitude are not to have lives of their own.”
Dream hums. “That’s right. Are you your own person Tommy?”
“No sir.”
“So why did you betray me Tommy?”
Tommy blinks. Betrayal. He wouldn’t necessarily call what he did betrayal. He just wanted to keep things for himself. Sure, he didn’t tell Dream he built the secret room under the home of his exile, but lying isn’t betraying. They have different meanings, he is sure.
“I asked you a question.”
Dream’s clipped tone brings him out of his thoughts. He shakes his head slightly, “I didn’t mean to.”
Dream scoffs. “You didn’t mean to? Every action has intent Tommy. Every soul has a path.”
“And mine is to stay with you, abide by your rules, and remember that you are the only one who stuck by me when no one else wanted to.”
“Glad you seem to have retained something after last time”, Dream hummed.
Tommy’s jaw clenched and he looked down at his feet. His shoes were worn, frayed at the edges from the residual fire. He remembers when Quackity told him he could have yeezes. Now, he doesn’t remember when the last time he saw Quackity was. Come to think of it, he doesn’t retain how long he has been in exile at all.
“But you still disobeyed my orders and went rogue Tommy. Honestly, how could you ever think I wouldn’t find out?”
Tommy huffed. “I just wanted to keep something for myself Dream!”
His chin was grabbed roughly, and he was forced to his knees. The words of resistance lodged in his throat felt like they were choking him for being what they are. Freedom.
“Oh Tommy¨, Dream coo’d. “You were doing so well. After your last….run, you would think you had learned a thing or two about listening to your superior.”
He ran his hand over Tommy’s hair. The white strands were dull in the last moments of the sun. Time felt like it slowed for Tommy. It felt like it stopped, but at the end it's just a cycle. He does something to piss off Dream, because no matter what, he is still that annoying kid.
“I did so much for you Tommy. I stuck by your side when no one else would”, Dream sighed. “Tubbo doesn’t even care.”
Tommy made a confused noise. “But during the party you said-”
Dream laughed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about Tommy. What is rule number two?”
“Don’t put words you've never said into your mouth.”
Dream pulled him close. The thing about Dream that Tommy knows by heart and soul is that he is so contradictory. Contingency is not Dream's strong suit. Or maybe that’s what he wants Tommy to think.
Dream scratches his scalp, and against his better judgement, Tommy hums in contentment. “I am your only friend Tommy. No one else wants you. No one else loves you. Not like I do.”
Tommy thinks back to Tubbo for a second. Tubbo who was by his side since the beginning. Tubbo who abandoned him. He thinks back to Techno, to Phil, to Wilbur. To his family. He thought back to Ranboo. Ranboo visited him in exile. But then again, after all the times he died, no one noticed in the way Tommy thought they would. Maybe Dream had something to do with that, or maybe their love is just a hallucination from the lonely days, staring at the sea, Dream by his side.
Dream by his side.
“How pretty your hair would be if we got rid of these last few strands of blond.”
Tommy tensed, and Dream’s tone went cold. “You need a punishment Tommy. You know that.”
Tommy hung his head in shame. “Sorry Dream.”
Dream rolled his shoulders. “I’m afraid sorry won’t cut it this time.” Tommy suddenly felt his hair being yanked. Dream stood up, dragging Tommy by the head out of the ruins of Tommy’s exile and over to the field. He threw Tommy with all his might. Tommy’s body hit a roll on a rock and the air was knocked out of his lungs. His side heaved with that pain. The kind of pain that makes you regret living as long as you did.
Dream dusted off his hands on his armor in disgust like Tommy was a bug he was squashing. “You know, I'm trying here Tommy. I tried to help you after Tubbo abandoned you. He finally did the right thing and threw away that stupid compass.”
Tommy’s heart stopped. His hand automatically went to his pocket, where the compass engraved with Tubbo’s name lay. His fingers tightened around it, his thumb running along the edge. He swallowed the bile he kept back in his throat. Tears burned at the corners of his eyes.
“Don’t do that sentimental crap with me now. Honestly, what did you think would happen?”
Dream put his boot to the center of Tommy’s chest and stepped. Tommy felt like his heart would explode. It doesn’t matter, Dream would probably bring him back again.
“Ghostbur left you for a reason, after all. Wilbur was right in that regard.”
A tear dropped, and Dream raised his boot, and with the full force of Netherite, brought his boot down to crush Tommy’s chest.
And it went black.
༺♡༻
Tommy gazed down at the vast world that was his exile. He never got time to rebuild it. After he came to, his chest hurt with the force that not even Techno could compete with. Dream was stroking the fire when Tommy had sat up, heaving.
Dream had done nothing to help him when Tommy was done. “You’re being dramatic¨, Dream had said. Coming from the only person Tommy had seen since Ghostbur left hurt more than he would ever have the courage to admit.
Tommy’s hair only had a single strand of blond left. After that day, Tommy stopped caring. He learned it was better to obey Dream's rules than not to. Sometimes Dream would let him see the revival book. That was a whole other can of worms Tommy doesn’t want to think about. Why would he want to think about the very reason his soul is no longer his?
Hope burned like a candle, and it evaporated like water to steam. He sits on the beach, staring out at the beautiful sea, staring at the nightful stars that glimmer like they chose him. He doesn’t know why. He is just Tommy.
Dream had said he forgave Tommy for his error. As obedient as Tommy may be, he didn’t believe that for a second. He’s bound to fuck up again, and Dream would bring Tommy’s resistance up again. It’s a never ending dance, a game where Tommy is the pawn and Dream is the god.
Maybe the gods are looking down at Tommy and wishing they could help. Maybe Prime is trying. Maybe Dream is as powerful as the revival book he reads from.
It was an offhand comment that caught Tommy offguard one day. He was feeding a cow he named Charlotte. It used to be Mushroom Henry, but after Tommy went rogue and woke up feeling like the world was pressing onto him, he had found Henry’s corpse by the ruins.
“You don’t deserve happy things when you are yourself, Tommy”, Dream clipped.
Tommy had buried Mushroom Henry and placed a flower on her grave.
Tommy looks down at the vast world of his lonely exile. It feels less lonely on top of the tower, he thinks. He had gathered as much dirt as he could, and built up until his fingers hurt and he could no longer feel his feet.
“Techno’s house is over that way, actually.”
Dream had mentioned that days ago. Tommy didn’t think much of it then. After all, if Techno wanted to see him, he would have visited. It hurts, but a part of Tommy gets it.
Dream had left for a bit, muttering something about useless L’manburg that can’t stay put. Tommy shrugged it off. He got to gathering his dirt. He knows Dream could bring him back, but what’s the harm is trying?
There is harm in everything, Tommy.
That’s stupid. So Tommy built up. He looked down where he was going to jump, and before he could change his mind, he lept. His feet grazed the dirt as he pushed off and let himself go into freefall. He took a deep breath as he gazed up at the clouds.
His body hit water with a harsh thunk. It reverberated through his bones, bursting his ears. Not really the way he thought he would go out, but drowning is okay too.
He on demand tried to breathe. Water filled his lungs and forced him to choke. His arms began to shake as the waves pulled him out to sea.
Memories flashed before his eyes. Memories in Pogtopia of him with Wilbur, Techno braiding their hair, laughing with Tubbo. Memories of baking with Niki, and with Jack. Memories of a better life.
Memories of Phil when Tommy, Wilbur, and Techno were younger. Phil and Techno coming home from their random vacations to spend time with Wilbur and Tommy. He remembered Wilbur loathing it. He loved it though. He loved his dad and his brother. Even if they left.
Even if they left, he still loved them.
Even if Tommy leaves, Tubbo still loves him.
Tommy’s arms struggled to gain traction, and his eyes were closing.
He let out one last puff of air, before it went dark.
An hour later, a boy washed up on shore, with all white hair except for a single, beautiful, soulless strand.
He looked out into the distance, towards where a man dressed in green had pointed out that an anarchist pig and a man who was soured the vast of the end lived towards.
He pulled himself up to the sand, his lungs hacking out the water. Bile rose up in his throat and he let it out too, grimacing at the taste it left behind.
He heard a moo, and looked to see Charlotte staring at him. Maybe it was the trick of the boy's imagination, but he could have sworn Charlotte nodded.
His heart as heavy as his limbs, he rose and trudged. His knees ached, and he trudged. He said goodbye to Charlotte, and he trudged.
His clothes were tattered with wear and hurt. His eyes were dull and somehow still as beautiful as they have always been. His hair isn’t his. It never was.
Just before he reached the forest, he turned to look at his ruined home. But a home is not a home without the people you live it with. And Tommy chooses those people for himself. Not for Dream.
“That’s the funny thing about hope”, Tommy muttered to no one but the land around his feet. “No one else gets to decide if you see it but you.”
༺♡༻
His knees bleed, but he ignores it. Safety is at the forefront of his mind. Even as the numb feeling seeps through his feet from the snow, biting at his toes and making him wince with every single step.
He had fallen a bit ago as he got into the more snowy biome. He had tripped over a rogue branch, and on trying to catch himself on the way down, hit his knees on some rocks, ripping into the already fragile skin.
Tommy had just blinked and gotten up. He kept going, the boots making a noise with a crunch that satisfied Tommy’s ears.
Tommy didn’t even know if he was going in the right direction. For all he knows, this could be a part of Dream’s sick and maniacal game. A part of him knew that Techno wouldn’t be very happy to see him. After all, they basically betrayed each other in the final days of Manburg. What Tommy does understand for what Techno doesn’t, is that petty things have to be put aside for something much bigger than both of them.
He trudges forward only for the thought that Dream could be close behind. Tommy isn’t as numb as some people might feel in his situation. He has thoughts, feelings, emotions. Just not big ones. He assumes that's what should happen when you get your soul wrenched apart.
Eventually, he sees a clearing up ahead. He uses his right hand to push off every tree in his path. His other hand is kept closely to his heart, just so he can feel it beating. To know he still is alive with every fiber.
He stumbles past a fence, moving the gate. He can see a polar bear attached to a fence, as well as a big cabin. There are horses in the stalls near one of the doors. He can recognize Carl, Techno’s horse. That means he made it. He nearly collapses in the snow from the sheer exhaustion weighing down his bones.
Instead, he slides his feet over to the door. The snow shifts as he does, but his feet hurt too much to pick up.
No one seems to be home, though Tommy doesn’t trust that one bit. He trusts it just as much as he trusts Dream, and looks where that got him.
Tommy lifts a finger, it being cold, bare, and as blue as his eyes once shown, before he yanks the door open. He probably should have knocked but it was too late. Warmth hit him like a freight train. It felt so freeing. He could see that the fire was on to his left, next to an Enderman in a boat. Whatever, he won’t look bad on Techno’s weird life choices.
He goes up the ladder, but no one is in the cabin. Tommy doesn’t know if he should find that relieving yet. The enderman whoops at him, and he gives it a little wave before looking at the chests. Techno has a wide variety of selection. Hm.
Tommy opens the first one, and holy fuck its filled to the brim with gapples. Oh great heavens. He takes a huge chunk out of one and the soreness of his body dissipates instantly. He knows to leave it at one so he does. Tommy moves to the next chest. Some are filled with minerals like diamonds and emeralds. Others are filled with gold, presumably for trips to the nether.
He opens one chest to find totems of undying. Tommy snorts. Techno always says he never dies, but Tommy thinks it's cheating if you use totems to prove it. He snags one just in case Techno and Phil don’t like visitors.
He went to the top of the cabin to see what was up there. It was a Prime bell. Tommy hasn’t prayed to Prime since the first few days of Pogtopia. Wilbur didn’t love the gods for what they did to him, so he banned Tommy and Tubbo from paying. He rang it once, and put his hands in a praying motion.
“Uh…hey Prime. Its been a while΅, he chittered nervously. “I just ... .I'm tired. Bone down exhausted. I don’t…I don’t want to be here, but I don’t really have any other option, ya know?” He stared at the flooring. It was an oak color. It was pretty. “It was either here, or be with Dream..”
Then I couldn't go through that again went unsaid. But Tommy knows Prime knew it was implied.
“Say hi to Reverance and Mumza for me, yeah? XD too if he ain’t busy running the universe”, he chuckled at himself.
Tommy goes back down to where the fire is. Techno had a book lying about on the table, so he grabbed that, a nice wool blanket, sat, and opened it. He hasn’t touched a book in forever, but it's nice to try something new once in a while. Even if he can’t really read…yeah he’s bored.
Tommy must have fallen asleep, because the next thing he knows, he wakes up to a gasp. Tommy groans, leaning back in the chair before he shook his head, running his hand through his hair. His fingers sting at the sensation, but he ignores it and blinks, rubbing his eyes.
He finds himself staring at the door, or rather, someone at the door. The first thing he notices is how tall they are. The second thing he notices is how they have half black and half white hair.
Red and green eyes meet his dull to almost gray blue. It's Ranboo. Its fucking Ranboo. Oh just his luck. Ranboo stares in shock, wincing at the eye contact, putting down as he was carrying a pack, before running over. Tommy flinches, expecting pain to blossom over his face. It’s what Dream would have done. Dream would have done it and called it mercy. Ranboo is not Dream.
Ranboo wraps his arms around Tommy and sobs. He sobs and sobs. The tears burn his skin, yet Ranboo doesn’t care.
¨Tommy! Oh my god oh my god holy crap-” Ranboo sobs.
Tommy hesitantly hugs him back, before melting into it. ¨Ranboo? Is this where you have been?”
“Me? Tommy, what about you? Dream said you died!”
Dream said what? Tommy tensed. He looked out the window, as if green would appear. Dream said he died? Tommy almost scoffed. The great Tommy, dead? Though it makes sense, he supposes. The tower. Dream must have found it and assumed, or he was just playing the game.
“I have to tell everyone! Wait, are you hungry? Thirsty? Techno has a selection-”
“Ranboo-”
“You are freezing. Go back to sitting by the fire! I can get Phil-”
¨Ranboo!¨ Tommy yelled softly but his voice was hoarse. Ranboo startled and stared at him with wide eyes. Tommy sighed. “Sorry, I just…it’s been a long night.”
Ranboo nodded. It was silent for a bit, not awkward though. It was comfortable in the only way being near Ranboo could make it. It was a nice change of pace, honestly.
Then Ranboo spoke again. “People held a funeral for you.”
Tommy’s eyes snapped up. People? Didn’t everyone on the server hate his guts? Ranboo must have read his mind because he looked like he would cry all over again.
“Tubbo held it”, Ranboo whispered. “He missed you more than anything. He’s been crying nonstop. Quackity and Fundy too. They blame him…he just misses you. They did a service and Tubbo said a few words.”
Tommy shook his head. There was no way Tubbo cared. If he did, why didn’t he come visit him. Tommy sneered at that. “He doesn’t give a shit Ranboo. He threw away his compass!”
Ranboo stared at him. “His compass? The one that has your name on it? Tommy, he was just holding it yesterday.”
¨What?” Tommy was startled. That doesn’t make sense. It doesn’t make sense. It doesn’t- It- it-
“Tommy, breathe.”
He can’t. His lungs won’t work. He’s back underwater. The water is seeping into his lungs and he can’t breathe.
“Tommy, please!”
Tommy whimpers. It’s a soft, heartbreaking sound. Tommy falls to the floor, Ranboo barely catching him. He leans against the wall, trying to catch his breath. All he manages is a choked sound.
He never should have left exile. Prime what was he thinking?
Someone touches his shoulder, and Tommy flinches back with a cry of pain. Its Dream. It has to be Dream. Dream’s gonna hurt him and-
“Phil he won’t-“
The voice is drowned out when Tommy slams his hand over his ears. He can muffle the sounds of the TNT better that way. But wouldn’t Dream get mad if he’s trying to protect himself? It’s all so overwhelming. His chest heaves with effort and it’s taking everything not to expell the gapple from his stomach.
“You know, Ranboo was asking for you.”
Tommy looked up at Dream. Tommy’s hair was half blond, half white. Tommy had been walking around Mushroom Henry to eat grass. Dream had came, made Tommy drop all but a leash into the hole. Tommy winced when it blew up, but he made sure Mushroom Henry’s ears were covered. The smoke from the whole came out in one thick plume.
Dream wipped his hand, the netherite armor gleaming.
“What did they say?” Tommy asked.
Dream hummed. “They said they won’t be coming around anymore.”
Tommy frowned, noting how his heart hurt at the thought. He shrugged. Why would he care about Ranboo? Certainly not because they were Tommy’s friend. Not because they gave Tommy Alliums to signify it.
“What’s rule number 3, Tommy?”
“No one is my friend, only Dream.” Dream nodded and tossed Tommy an apple as a reward.
“And who does your soul belong to?”
“You.”
Hands, rough and calloused, took his hands from his ears with a bit of prying. A thumb rubbed across the scars on his knuckles. It seemed to appease the phantom pain.
His eyes were blurry, and he blinked a lot to get them back to normal.
Kneeling in front of him was a familiar green robe. His heart stuttered at the sight of green and the hand gave him a sqieeze. It didn’t feel like the suffocating squeezes that wrapped around his throat so many times he could feel the residue. It felt safe. Tommy didn’t know when he last felt safe. The robe was attached to a man, a man with familiar black wings, beautiful as they are deadly. One was frayed it would never lift off, the other with downy feathers that shimered like the night sky Tommy stared at in exile.
It was Phil. Tommy flinched. Phil had to be mad at him. He didn’t help Wilbur in Pogtopia. Wilbur needed him so Phil should be mad and-
Phil looked worried. That’s a new kind of feeling that sunk into his chest. Someone being worried about him. It reminded him so much of Ranboo.
Speaking of, Ranboo was to Phil’s left. His tail was swishinf anxiously behind him, his eyes glued to Tommy. That was saying something, because Ranboo wasn’t one for eye contact.
Next to Ranboo was someone who made Tommy’s heart start skipping. Long pink hair, messily braided. One red pericing eye, the other shrouded with black that continued along the skin down to the neck. This is probably the worst Techno had looked.
“Hi Tommy”, Phil’s voice was gentle.
“Hi”, Tommy’s voice was hoarse and the room felt more tension.
“You with us?”
“Yeah.”
Tommy flinched when Techno stepped forward while holding what seemed to be bandages,, and Techno stopped in a second. The room self suffocating at that point.
Tommy winced. “S-s-sorry-“, he managed to stutter out. He clamped his mouth shut, annoyed with it all. The eyes of the occupants in the room softened.
“No need to apologize mate”, Phil reassured.
Techno kept walking, keeping himself in Tommys line of sight. He crouched next to Phil and gently took Tommy’s hands in his own from Phil. Tommy’s hands tensed and he let out a scared whimper that he immediately regretted.
“It’s okay Tommy”, Techno soothed, and Tommy breathed. “You’re okay.”
He wrapped Tommy’s hands. While Techno did that, Phil looked at Tommy’s hair.
“White hair?” He asked, confused. Tommy numbly nodded. Ranboo let out a shaky vroomp. Phil turned to Ranboo and his face fell.
“Dream”, Phil muttered. Ranboo nodded. “Dream.”
When Techno finished wrapping Tommys hands, he just sat there, like he was waiting for Tommy. Tommy didn’t understand it. Ranboo grabbed the blanket that was discarded on the floor and handed it to Phil, who wrapped it around Tommy. The warmth felt nice after the whole mental breakdown and panic attack.
“How long have you been here”, Techno’s voice was ruffer than usual. Tommy wondered why. It probably wouldn’t do well to ask now.
Ranboo spoke up for him. “He was sleeping by the fire when I found him so probably most of the night.”
Phil got Tommy to his feet and they sat him down in the seat he was in before. Techno rubbed Tommy’s hands between his next to the fire to try and get feeling back into them.
It was silent. Techno kept readjusting the blanket on Tommy’s shoulders.
“Are you hungry?”
Tommy looked at Phil. Phil winced at the dull eyes that stared back at him. Tommy didn’t respond for a moment.
“What?” Tommy blinked.
“Are you hungry?” Phil repeated.
Tommy searched his face for any lies, but came up empty. Okay then. He wasn’t really, Dream haven beaten it out of him, but he knew it would make them feel better, so he nodded.
“Okay. Is potato’s okay?”
Tommy forgot what potato’s taste like, so he was intrigued and nodded. Techno left and soon came back with a plate of potato’s. The moment the piglin was in range, Tommy ripped the plate from his hands and chowed it down.
“Easy, easy sweetheart”, Phil chided. Ranbok rubbed his back as he chowed it down. The heat soothed his throat. Techno gave him water, but Tommy just set it aside. He didn’t want to look at water. Techno frowned but didn’t mention it.
A few dogs came inside and shook off their coats. Techno lowered Tommy to the floor. Tommy looked so out of it.
“What did Dream do”, Phil whispered. Techno didn’t know. Dream was his friend. Keyword being was. He hurt his brother to the point Tommy hasn’t cussed once.
Techno sighed. Sure, he was mad at Tommy for the whole not realizing he was always an anarchist, and apart of bim knew he was no better than Dream. The voices went insane at the thought of the pit
KILL THE TELETUBBY
WE HURT TOMMY
HELP TOMMY
Techno rubbed the side of his head, and Phil gave him a worried look. He shrugged. “Just the voices. You know how they are.” Ranboo and Phil nodded.
Techno kneeled in front of Tommy. The boy didn’t flinch, though he did blink at Techno. “Hey Toms.”
“Hi Techno”, Tommy whispered.
“Did you…”, Techno struggled to phrase his question correctly. “Did…Dream do something to you?”
Tommy went white as a ghost, as his hair, at the name that Techno uttered out of his mouth. Techno took a deep breath.
“Does it have something to do with your new white hair?” Techno asked hesitantly.
Tommy's throat bobbed as he struggled to swallow. Phil frowned and rubbed his back, gently patting him.
“I-im fine”, Tommy mumbled. Tears were in his eyes and he shook his head. His breathing hitched.
“Uh Ranboo-“ Phil cut off when Ranboo was already moving. Ranboo grabbed a bucket and put it under Tommy’s mouth just in time. The moment wasn’t pretty, and they all winced at the smell.
Tommy looked like he would rather be anywhere else. “I’m sorry.”
Techno shook his head. “Don’t apologize. You probably needed that and it’s your body telling you.”
Tommy sagged into Phil’s arms, exhausted.
Ranboo went to throw out the bucket and the silence continued. Techno spoke with a dejected tone.
“I know that it’s hard, but we need to know what happened in order to help you.”
A little bit of Tommy came back when he glared at Techno, but it was gone before Phil and Techno could blink. Tommy bit his lip and felt a hand pull it away.
“Hey none of that”, Phil nodded. “We are here to help.”
“But why”, Tommy’s eyebrow furrowed. “I hurt you Techno. I don’t understand¨, he whispered as he pulled his knees close to his chest.
Techno nodded. “You did, but I did too.”
Tommy’s eyes shot up. “What?” He looked so confused it hurt their hearts.
“I hurt you in the pit”, Techno pointed out, like it was as casual as Sunday brunch. Tommy shook his head.
“That doesn’t count.”
“It does”, Techno replied.
Tommy huffed. “I threw the first punch, Techno.”
“You’re my brother. So no, I shouldn’t have retaliated. That universal violence thing was bullshit Tommy. I love you.”
Tommy flinched back like he was struck. Phil held him steady, and he brought a shaky hand up to his neck. He felt another hand come up to his neck, and his breathing stuttered, before he realized the hand wasn’t doing anything.
“I am not squeezing your neck”, Techno said. “I am not going to hurt you.”
Tommy stared at him wide eyed, and his neck burned less. The phantom pain was still there, it just felt more…just felt different.
“We want to know because you’re precious to us Tommy”, Phil said.
It wasn’t the fact of what Phil said, it was how he said it. Like it was a factor of the universe, like he was destined for it. Like he actually was something precious. It was so simple yet so not. Contradictory, just like Dream. But Dream never called him precious. He was his friend, sure, but Dream never outright showed Tommy the affection his actual family once did.
Tommy felt the sob wrack his body before he heard the sound. Strong arms wrapped around him, and he buried his face in the crook of Techno’s neck. Techno hugged him tightly in his arms. Phil joined in too, and wrapped his good wing around the both of them. The other wing lay discarded next to Phil, and it made Tommy feel sad.
But he was loved. Maybe telling them would make it all feel okay, even if it really wasn’t.
“He would…hurt me, and he had this revival book”, Tommy swallowed, and Phil gestured for him to continue.
“He had these rules and said I needed to obey”, his fingers curled around the blanket. He looked down at his feet. Soaking wet, but he felt the love seep into them like the cold never could.
“Is that why”, Techno started but cut off with a shudder. “Is that what the tower was for?”
Tommy shook his head. “That wasn’t Dream, that was all me.”
Phil’s arms tightened for a split second. “The revival book is an ancient entity”, Phil pulled his hand through Tommy’s hair. It was soothing like Wilbur’s. That made Tommy realize that Dream’s touch was nothing like theirs. Phil continued. “I’ve known of it for a long time, but never knew the location.”
“Schlatt had it”, Tommy remembered. “Dream got it from Schlatt.”
Techno groaned. “Of course he did. Even in death, that fool is still messing with us.”
Tommy let out a giggle. It was far from his usual laugh, but just as gorgeous. It made Techno give a small smile. Tommy gasped. “I made the Blade smile! Phil, did you see?”
Phil laughed. “I did!”
Techno scowled. “I didn’t smile.”
A click was heard from the door. They all tensed, but untensed when they saw it was just Ranboo, now without a bucket, with a sheepish expression holding a camera. “I saw I was un-included in the cuddle pile so this is the result. I’m going to frame this and put it on the fridge.”
Techno glared and Tommy nodded. “Good man boob boy.”
“My name is still Ranboo-”
“Techno, what happened to like…your face”, Tommy pointed to half of Techno’s face.
Techno shrugged. “Your best friend tried to kill me with an anvil so this is the product buildup from the totem.”
Tommy winced. “Tubbo did that?”
“And Ranboo”, Phil ever so unhelpfully added.
Tommy’s gaze snapped to Ranboo. Ranboo looked really shameful. His tail wrapped around his leg. “I know, it was really bad. I got scared and didn’t know what to do, though that doesn’t excuse it. I’m sorry Techno-”
“Ranboo you have apologized a million times. Please for the love of Prime STOP”, Techno pleaded.
Tommy rolled his eyes, and they had a bit of their blue shine back in them. “Just get in here you boob.”
As the two boys laughed, Techno and Phil shared a look above Tommy’s head. Dream would pay. Techno later would make sure of it, his axe tainted with the horrific things done to Dream that the green bitch most definitely deserved. He did them over and over, always hunting down Dream, until there was not a canon life to be remembered by. Dream had gone to great lengths to run from Techno, but Sam helped Techno by getting Dream to the nether. “It's not my time yet!” Dream has screamed. But oh, he was sorely mistaken. Skin burning felt like a beautiful sight in that moment.
And later, Techno would give Tommy the revival book if he ever wanted to use it. Tommy didn’t, so they hid it where it would never be found. Under the ruins of Tommy’s exile. Tommy also got to see Charlotte, so that was a win.
Tubbo and Tommy made amends. Tubbo was so fucking happy to see Tommy alive. He sobbed and showed Tommy that he still had the compass. Tommy couldn’t believe his eyes. Tubbo did mostly make amends with Techno, though it’s still touch and go.
Ghostbur also found Tommy. He apologized for the party.
“It's okay, Ghostbur!” Tommy said. “I’m just happy you're back.”
Tommy did get some blue for his troubles.
༺♡༻
The line was thin. And if you walked across it, you would wonder how you made it this far with the life you continue to lead.
What you don’t realize is that sometimes, the line isn’t always what it seems. The hourglass tips over to one side, but that doesn’t mean it favors it.
Techno and Tommy sat on the beach, watching the sunset, the sun's final goodbye for the night, as Tommy leaned against Techno. The remnants of the totem were mostly gone, so Techno was looking mostly normal other than a huge scar.
They won’t ever look or feel the same.
“How do you know someone is special?” Tommy asked, staring at the colors that painted across the sky in seemingly bright hues.
Techno hummed. “Everyone is, in their own way.”
Tommy huffed and laid his head in Techno’s lap. “That’s not what I asked Dickhead.”
“The voices disagree.”
Tommy laughed at that and they let the sound of the waves crashing ashore bury them in Serenity.
“Dream said my soul belonged to him. That it was the depravity that made my soul so awful.”
Techno’s hand stalled for a moment before it continued to sooth Tommy’s scalp. It made him sleepy.
“Dream was a possessive fool who was two days away from the care home for his many disputations. He is NOT a good judge of character.”
“Then what made my soul so different?”
Techno looked up at the sky and let a smile fall to his face. “A soul is beautiful because of depravity, Tommy. It’s what makes it full of life, mistakes, love, possibilities.”
Tommy’s heart tightened, his hands ghosting to his neck before they dropped to his side. “Then why couldn’t I have been loved.”
“That is very much a mistake on other peoples parts”, Techno deadpanned. “You are not at fault for that, okay? Sometimes, you love too much. People have a hard time getting grounded with it. It doesn’t make that a bad thing.”
Tommy blinked. “So my soul is beautiful because it sucks?”
Techno laughed and shook his head. “Well yes, but I don’t think you’re getting my point. You have other things in your soul besides depravity.”
“So what makes my soul beautiful”, Tommy repeated.
“Your soul is beautiful because you’re you.”
