Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Reader has joined the game

/Gamemode Spectator

<Watching Player: Xisumavoid>

Xisuma startled as his communicator went off, having been mostly just zoning out at his admin console, if he was being completely honest with himself. He fumbled the device into his hands, trying to get to it as quickly as possible, almost managing to drop it in the process.

Mumbo Jumbo has joined the game

Oh thank the void . He got up swiftly, not bothering to care as he knocked his mug off his desk. It could be cleaned up later, for now he needed to get to his hermit. He grabbed his first aid shulker from his enderchest and prepared to launch his rockets out the upper window of the base when his communicator went off again. 

Skizzleman has joined the game

Well, that's odd. It isn’t usual for multiple players to come back at once from the games, especially not the first ones. But of course, he never knew fully what happened in those games, they could have been involved in a double kill or-

Goodtimewithscar has joined the game

 Three of them back at once? What was so different about this game from the last-?

ImpulseSV has joined the game

Geminitay has joined the game

Oh Dear.

EthosLab has joined the game

Bdouble0100 has joined the game

TangoTek has joined the game

PearlescentMoon has joined the game

TommyInnit has joined the game

Zombiecleo has joined the game

Rendog has joined the game

Grian has joined the game

Smallishbeans has joined the game

He skimmed the names with a speeding heart as they flooded in, dread a sinking ship in his chest. He knew all too well how injured his players were when they came back from those damned games. Knew all too well how broken they were both physically and emotionally when they finally spawned back into their home. Most of the time it took several days, multiple people and a lot of energy just to heal up a single one of them; longer to get them to even speak about the horrid things they not only witnessed but committed. It would seem, only one or two of them coming back at once, was a reprieve he wasn't aware should have been appreciated.

His plan of getting to Mumbo first and then calling one of the hermits more skilled in healing rapidly changed. They would need all hands on deck for this, and fast. He launched his rocket, flying into the sky towards spawn while also, dangerous as it may be, sending a chat to the rest of the server.

<Xisumavoid> I need everyone possible at spawn they are back from the games

<cubfan135> Headed that way

<Zedaph> Coming

<Docm77> Omw

<Docm77> How many of them are back???

<Xisumavoid> all of them

<Falsesymmetry> oh my

<Docm77> shit

<Keralis> oh dear, coming quickly

<joehillssays> Flying as fast as I can 

Content with knowing they would be on their way, Xisuma put away his comm, focusing instead on getting there as quickly as possible. Spawn came into view much faster than Xisuma was prepared for. And as he sped towards the ground, it came to his attention that he had not thought very hard about how he was going to land. It certainly wasn’t his most graceful touch down of all time, and definitely would have been enough to embarrass him any other time had his focus not been locked on the bloody image before him. 

He fears he would have been stuck there, staring at the sight of thirteen hermits laid sprawled out on the ground, if Keralis had not landed next to him and broken him from his stupor. What kind of admin was he? His people were spread across the ground, unconscious and severely injured and he just stands there? Get it together, X, this isn’t the first time they’ve come back like this. Keralis placed a hand on his arm in a comforting gesture before they both walked forward towards what could only be described as the wreckage of war. The others arrived swiftly after, all carrying various forms of first aid combined with a deeply troubled look on their face. 

“We need to get them to the hospital,” Cub announced, breaking the eerie silence and referring to the medical bay False and Joe had set up next to spawn right after they found out the others had been taken for another game. “Move them carefully but quickly, we need to assess how bad the damage is.” 

“Who do we move first?” False asked, voice as steady as ever, though the wary look in her eyes was enough to contradict her determined demeanor.

“I’m not sure.” The doctor admitted, his tone carrying a sort of strangled element. “But we need to work fast, just move whoever seems the worst injured and we’ll work from there.”

“I’m going to get Tango,” Doc decided, “His burns look very extensive. I don’t even want to imagine what caused that.” The goat hybrid shuddered, his typical gruff voice laced with anger in what X knew was built on concern. 

It was then another voice, one unusually small and rough for the person it was coming from, spoke up, “It was a creeper.” Joel pushed himself to his knees, the burns and slash marks covering his limbs seeming to do little in deterring him from getting up. “Man didn’t even try stepping away from the darned thing.” He made a sound that could have been an attempt at a laugh but it was unclear. Zedaph hurried to his side as he stumbled getting from the ground to his feet, trying to get him to remain still so as to not injure himself further. But Joel was paying him no mind, it was almost as if, to him, Zed wasn’t even there. Instead he looked around at everyone else on the ground until his eyes landed on Gem, who was covered in small slash marks from head to toe from what Xisuma assumed to have been vex’s. (At least, a part of him hoped it was vex’s, he didn’t want to think any of his players were capable of causing that kind of damage to one of their own). 

Joel made his way over to her, attempting to lift the smaller player into his arms, prompting Joe to approach him, a soothing tone in hand. “Joel, hey, we can get her, let’s get you to the hospital, yeah?” Joel responded with nothing but a glare aimed at the other man before scooping Gem up into a protective hold.

Joe tried to reason with him once more as Joel turned towards the medical bay but was cut off by Doc who was kneeling next to Tango, “Leave him be. He can walk, he’ll be okay, let’s just get the others.”

“He’s right,” Xisuma agreed, judging by the way Joel immediately set out to look for her and the protectiveness in his glare, they were most likely teammates and he didn’t think they could separate those two right now if they tried. He knew how strongly connected they were to each other in the games and how fast relationships could both build and crumble. All emotions ran high in these worlds, and while that meant betrayals left scars that ran deep long after forgiveness had been granted, it also meant that unbroken bonds wove people together in a way the rest of them couldn’t quite understand; If the way that Grian and Scar returned from the first games was any indication, that is.

After watching to make sure Joel made it without collapsing, Xisuma made his way to where False was beckoning him, crouching next to Grian and Pearl. “Help me transfer them,” She ordered, “We have to be really careful with their wings, it's best if two of us carry them in order to support them.” He nodded and, following the eagle avian’s lead, lifted Pearl off of the ground. They walked inside and, as gently as they could, laid the owl hybrid onto one of the cots. 

Doc then entered holding Tango, who let out a pitiful whimper with the movement needed to lay him down, followed quickly by Doc whispering, “I know, I’m sorry, you’ll feel better in a bit, I promise,” While running a hand through the blazeborn’s hair.

After making sure Pearl was in a position that wouldn’t hurt her wings more than they already were, Xisuma and False went back out to spawn to bring in Grian who was starting to gain consciousness. Figuring that they would want to be next to each other, as they usually did, they laid him on the cot next to Pearl. While False stayed and began healing the avian siblings, seeing as she knew more about wing care than the rest of them, the admin went back outside and towards Mumbo who was one of the last still on the ground. 

“I’ve got you,” He assured him as he stirred, “I’ve got you, you’re safe now.” It was awkward lifting Mumbo up, given how tall the other man was, but he managed, cradling his player as best he could as he moved him. 

“Bring him over here, X,” False directed as the pair entered, gesturing to the bed next to her. Before he could inquire as to why, his questions were answered when False ran her fingers soothingly through Grian’s curls, murmuring, “See? He’s alright, Xisuma’s got him, he’s right there, it's okay.”

Ahh, of course.  

He laid Mumbo down and adjusted the bed so that he could be as close to Grian as they pleased; Something the parrot hybrid immediately took advantage of, reaching out to grab his best friends hand, breathing a sigh of relief as they made contact, almost as if he was scared he wouldn’t actually be there.

“That’s everyone,” Zedaph announced. “Where do you want us to start?” He asked, turning to Cub after setting down Skizz. 

“I think we should split up based on injury except for- Doc, you stick with Tango, you know more about creeper burns than the rest of us. And False I think it's best if you focus on the avians, do you need any help over there?” Cub asked.

“Nah, I should be okay,” she responded. “If someone could pass me some burn cream that’d be great though.” 

“Speaking of,” He paused to toss a bottle to the avian, “Zed, I need you to mix up some more of the cream, we don’t have near as much as we need.” 

“On it!” The ram responded, saluting before trotting away. 

“I thought we prepared more than enough.” Joe stated, eyebrows cinched together.

“Yeah, I thought we did too.” Cub took a deep breath before continuing to direct them.  “Keralis, and Joe, focus on the burns, I want to get those dealt with as quick as possible so we can hopefully avoid infections. I’ll focus on stitching up deeper wounds, X, you focus on broken bones.” 

The group murmured different acknowledgements and set off on their various tasks. Xisuma grabbed a splint and potions from the medical cabinets and went to Cleo, whose arm was most certainly not the angle it should be. 

“I'm sorry,” he muttered as they winced. “I gotta set your arm, then I’ll give you some healing potion.”  

They didn’t respond to that, simply looking up at him with glistened eyes and asking, “Home?”

“Yes Cleo, you’re home, everyone’s home.” 

A tear slid down her face, their body visibly relaxing. He gave their not-broken hand a squeeze and tried to ignore their hisses of pain as he worked. After pouring as much potion as he could on her injury without risking an overdose he moved onto the next person. Deep breaths were the only thing keeping him grounded, the only thing that stopped him from getting overwhelmed with the sheer amount of injuries there were.

They’d barely even started.

This was going to be a long day.

He finished giving Ren a small dose of weakness potion to help him sleep when Cub got his attention, “Suma,” he called, voice just loud enough for him to hear. “Can you help me out here?”

“Of course, what do you need?”

“Joel finally let me close enough to Gem to get her stitched up but now he won’t allow me to heal any of his injuries.” 

Xisuma looked over to where said man was pacing next to Gem’s bed. His injuries may not have been as extensive as some of the others but they were by no means superficial and it seemed he could no longer ignore them, his body moving like a ship on troubled waters as it struggled to keep him upright.

The admin walked over to him and placed a cautious hand on his shoulder, heart wrenching as the other man flinched, “Joel,” He started, voice steady but firm, “You have injuries that need to be tended too.”

“I’ll be fine, it’s not that bad, help the others.” He rambled, his frame trembling, looking far away as if staring into the void itself.  

“They are being helped, you need healed as well.”

“I don’t deserve your help.” 

Xisuma winced at the strangled words, something in his chest shattering at them. “Us caring for you isn’t conditional, what happened in the games doesn’t matter now.” He said carefully, desperate to get that point across.

“The others-”

“Are safe and being cared for, let us help you now.”

He turned to his friends, scanning with apprehensive eyes, as if having to decide whether or not to believe him. After several tense seconds in which X feared he may be stuck staring at their broken bodies he finally looked away. His shoulders sank as whatever fight was left in him dissipated. Xisuma guided him gently to the nearest bed, forcing him to sit, to get off his wobbly legs that looked about as steady as an old bridge in a windstorm. 

“I won,” he lamented, grimacing like the words hurt as they ripped themselves from his throat. 

“No one blames you for it,” he assured him before gesturing for some help.

He didn’t respond, didn’t speak as Cub began cleaning his wounds, simply rotating his wedding band between his fingers. He stared at the small piece of jewelry, ornamented with small pearls and pink gems, fixated on it like it was the only thing keeping him tethered to the ground. X filed that image away in his mind, intent on contacting Fwhip as soon as possible so that his player may spend some time with his wife once he’s healed enough to server hop safely.

Despite getting the notifications that they had returned early that morning, it wasn’t until well into the night that they had gotten them to a point where they were stable enough that the hermits felt comfortable taking a break. They weren’t fully healed by any means but they were comfortable at the very least, and most were asleep. It was, unfortunately, the best they could ask for. 

“We’ve done all we can tonight, guys,” Cub said softly, voice soft and content, regret a barely noticeable feature in his tone. “Doc and I’ll keep watch over them, we can swap out tomorrow, hopefully we can do more then. For now, go get some rest.” With that, he sat down at his desk, beginning to catalog all the injuries and treatments that were given, while not necessary, made caring for the injured easier. 

While, False, Zed, and Joe all left, Xisuma stayed, fighting the exhaustion plaguing his body, simply staring at his players. He would have stood there till morning had Keralis not said something, an all too familiar sternness coating his voice, “Cub said get rest. That means you too, Swishshammy.” Before he could even attempt to argue, a battle he surely has no chance of winning (but one he would stubbornly fight anyway) his friend continued, “Don't even try, I know you haven’t gotten a full night of sleep since they were taken.”

“They were taken , Keralis!” he reasoned, though keeping his voice quiet so as to not disturb the sleeping. “Again! I had no way of knowing whether or not they were-”

“I understand. It was a stressful time for all of us, which is why I didn’t nag you about it.” Xisuma just sent him a look. “Too much. That is.”

“Hmm, disagree, I’d say there was plenty of nagging actually.” He snarked back, earning him a playful glare.

“Promise, I could have made it much worse for you.”

“Oh, I’m sure.” He couldn’t help the fondness that snuck into his words.

“But I didn’t because you were worried, and you are like fighting a brick wall on your best of days. But they are safe now, and you are in desperate need of some sleep.”

“I’d rather stay with them, K.” He argued, though rather pathetically. It wasn't necessarily that he didn't want to go to sleep (though he didn't), he just didn’t want to leave them, he had failed them more than enough, the least he could do was watch over them as they slept. 

“I know very well what you would rather do, Sishshwam, but I am telling you, go get some rest. There is no more good you can do for them now.”

“Ker-”

“You are of no use to anyone while you are too tired to even stand up straight. Go to bed, Xisuma.” He paused, staring the admin down, expression akin to that of an irate parent. “I will drag you to bed myself if I have to.” He chuckled as he said it but X knew, what with the use of his real name and many previous experiences, that the threat was very real. It reminded him of the countless times he had said the same thing to many of his players. Void , he really was the hypocrite they so lovingly referred to him as.

Eventually, he held his hands up in surrender, “Alright, alright, I’m going. I’ll sleep, I promise, Just-” He turned to Cub and Doc, the former doing a poor job at hiding the amusement on his face. Doc on the other hand had no qualms about showing his pleasure at their bickering. “Call me if something happens.” 

“Will do, sleep well, X.” 

“See you in the morning, Xisuma.”

He nodded and with that, took off towards his base. He didn’t pay much attention as he flew, his mind occupied elsewhere, earning him some very close calls with phantoms. He could practically hear Keralis’s “I told you so” from here. He arrived at his base and habitually walked past his bedroom and towards the room where his admin controls were. He was going to sleep like he promised. He was! He just had too… clean up the tea he spilt earlier! Yes, of course, he couldn’t just let that sit there all night, yes, he just had to get that cleaned up, and then he would go to sleep. Of course…. he could also check on a few server things, he might as well, since he’s going to be in there anyway. He was going to go to bed! In a few minutes.

He leaned down to grab his mug only to immediately drop it once more, as his eyes caught on flashing red from his admin console. An alert practically screaming Danger! Everything else on his mind momentarily forgotten, X sat down and began frivolously searching for what triggered the alarm. The problem was found within the player tab which included someone who was most certainly not on the whitelist.

An intruder on the server?  

That shouldn’t be possible, not with the firewalls he so tediously crafted, not with the lines of code carefully strung together in order to keep his server safe. How could this have happened? How could he have missed something so vital? How could he have possibly messed up this badly? First he allows his hermits to be hurt time and time again and now he can’t even manage a whitelist properly? How many other things have gone wrong because of his carelessness? Clearly he wasn’t fit to do this, he couldn’t fathom how his players trusted him as they did given the countless times he had failed them, he shouldn’t have ever taken on this responsibility, shouldn’t have ever been trusted with this, shouldn’t have ever been given the title of Admin-

Stop.

Focus. 

Fix the problem. Spiral later.

First he had to figure out when they had managed to get onto the server, hopefully that would give him a clue as to what weakness they must have exploited. He should have gotten an alert for it, his communicator should have gone off but it just didn’t for some reason- Unless…. Unless it did, but he was too distracted to see it. Perhaps when he was so focused on getting to spawn, he didn’t bother reading carefully through all the names. He scrolled back in his communicator and yep, there it was, clear as day: 

TommyInnit has joined the game.

Chapter Text

Reader has joined the game

<Watching Player: TommyInnit>

Consciousness flooded his lungs as he clawed at the water around him. He kicked with the fervor of a dying man, swimming desperately to the surface of the waves. He was blinded by his panic, only coming back to himself when his hands broke the surface of the water, clawing into the coarse sand of the seashore. His waterlogged wings flapped uselessly, not quite strong enough to propel him forward any real distance. He scrambled out of the ocean using only his hands and knees, coughing and hacking up saltwater with the last ounces of energy his body would lend him. Once he felt he was no longer in immediate danger of drowning, he flopped onto his side and took in deep breaths of the salty air. It was hard to tell how long he laid there, staring at where the sky met the waves, waiting for the crushing weight of the ocean to lift off his chest, but it had been long enough for his hair and feathers to turn dry and brittle.

The sun was slowly rising, and as he watched it inch over the horizon, he knew what it meant. Dream would be visiting soon, and he'd be disappointed to find Tommy being so lazy.

The thought was enough to knock him out of the paralyzed state he'd found himself in. He needed to get some work done before his friend’s arrival. Dream would be disappointed if he couldn’t participate in their little bonding activity. And considering Tommy's empty pockets, he needed to do some mining.

After some scouring through the barrels in Logstedshire, Tommy found enough diamonds to make a pickaxe. With his new tool in hand, he made his way down into his mine. He had enough iron in his hidden chests to make a chestplate, but he really wanted to have a full set of armor. Only the best for his only friend!       

In the darkness of the cave, it was difficult to tell how much he’d collected. He lit his last unused torch and examined the fruit of his labor. The mining trip had yielded little reward, only just enough iron to complete his set and way too much lapis to use in his limited lifetime. It's not like he'd be able to keep it anyways. 

He wiped some coal dust off onto his shirt and blinked back into focus, finding himself in front of a crafting table above ground, half the iron needed for a pair of boots already sitting on the block. Tommy huffed as he remembered that he couldn’t craft only one boot. Inconsiderate design, in his opinion.

He finished crafting the armor and put the pieces on wordlessly. It was… more difficult to put on his armor than it should have been. It left him exhausted, out of breath and trembling from the effort. Just trying to get the chestplate on over his wings was damn near impossible. The limbs kept spasming as he tried to wrangle them back underneath his shirt. He was left almost entirely drained of energy just from the fight with his own limbs.

He'd really let himself go, huh? Prime, he was tired. 

Tommy sighed to himself as he backed away from the crafting table. It wouldn’t be long before Dream arrived, but what to do until then? He wandered the area, looking at the nether portal, the remains of his failed beach party, the jukebox outside his tent, even the cobblestone ‘communicator’ he’d built when Dream had taken his real one away. Nothing piqued his interest. He even stopped at Prime’s shrine inside Logstedshire, offering a small prayer in hopes of feeling something. Yet it all seemed dull. Grey. He didn’t want to do anything. Not that there really was anything to do.

His small bout around the base (if you could call it that) left Tommy almost more tired than putting on his armor had. A small whisper in the back of his head suggested eating to get his strength up, but even if he was hungry, he didn’t have any food. Or any energy to go looking for something to eat. Besides, Dream would be here soon, and he usually brought something for Tommy. Even when Tommy couldn’t keep the food down properly appreciate the gifts, Dream still brought them. 

He was so lucky to have such a caring friend. 

The exhaustion weighing down his shoulders led him to his small tent, directly to the thin cot he called a bed. It was all too easy to ignore the sun moving in the sky above him, a constant reminder that the day was passing and that he should be out, keeping himself busy as he waited for his friend to arrive. All too easy to ignore the whispers in the back of his head that told him it was too dangerous to be laying down in his bed when Dream could arrive any minute. All too easy for him to surrender to the alluring call of sleep. A little nap couldn’t hurt, besides, he hadn’t been getting much sleep anyways, so sue him!

The harsh impact of the dirt ground was the first to greet him back into reality. Tommy groaned, spitting out the grass blades in his mouth and doing his best to glare up at his assailant in his weakened state. However, as soon as his eyes caught the shine of the netherite boots in front of him, all anger at his abrupt awakening drained from his body. A smile spread across his face. It hurt, but Tommy paid no mind. His friend had finally arrived!

“Dream!” he shouted, scrambling up to his feet. “You’re here!” 

“And you were sleeping. Tommy, I thought we talked about this.” 

The annoyed tone Dream sported was enough to put Tommy right back on edge. His wings flared underneath his shirt.

“I’m really sorry, I waited for you, I promise I did! But I was so tired from mining-!”

“Enough excuses, Tommy. It’s not acceptable to sleep through the daytime. Don’t you want to get better? At this rate, you’ll never be fit to return to L’manburg!” Dream sighed and shook his head, his disappointment in Tommy radiating off of him in waves.

“And here I was, thinking that you were finally proving yourself. Hell, I even brought you some golden carrots! Now I’m not so sure that you deserve them. Those are luxury items, Tommy.”

“No no, Dream, please, I promise I’ll be better! Look, hey, how about this!” Tommy paused for a moment to dig a hole into the ground, clumsily unstrapping his armor. “Look! I made- I made this armor for you! To um, to drop in the hole, y’know? I thought, uh, I thought- look! How’s this sound, I drop everything, you forgive me, and we go about the rest of our day acting like this never happened!”

“Tommy. I-” Dream let out a long-suffering sigh. “Fine. This once, I’ll let it slide. Drop your stuff in the hole. Before I change my mind.”

Tommy dropped his armour, and after a second of deliberation, everything else in his inventory too. His diamond pickaxe, the stack of lapis from his mining trip, four dirt blocks, a half stack of cobblestone, and two poppies that he must have picked up at some point. It looked rather pitiful all piled together. 

Tommy felt a harsh tug pull him back as the TNT went off. He’d been so busy staring at his items that he’d completely missed Dream dropping the lit dynamite. Tommy would’ve joined his items as a smoldering pile if Dream hadn’t pulled him back.

“You’ve really got to be more careful, Toms.”

And that was the end of that. It seemed to Tommy that Dream was content letting his slipup slide, walking away from Tommy to go look at the wooden castle tower he’d been building near Logstedshire. 

Tommy followed him eagerly. 

Like a dog, the whispers muttered, ever loyal. Ever blind. 

Tommy made no indication he’d heard. And he continued to ignore the whispers over the next several hours, as he and Dream gathered oak logs to finish the tower. He felt about ready to collapse by the time they took a break from building. He was certain he would fall over, but Dream took notice of how hard he was shaking and led him carefully into the walls of Logstedshire. He sat Tommy down by Mushroom Henry, giving the mooshroom a gentle pat on the head before he leaned away. 

The two sat and talked for another hour, before Dream seemed to remember something and left the log formation, promising he’d “be back in a moment” and telling Tommy to “stay put” while he was out. Tommy watched him walk away, something nauseous settling into his gut as he listened to the clacking of netherite armor gain distance. This was a golden opportunity to go check on his hidden chests.

“Stay right here, Mushroom Henry,” Tommy whispered. “I’ll be right back, don’t tell Dream.”

The whispers muttered quiet concerns. If Tommy heard, he made no indication.

Tommy slowly got to his feet, before stepping as quietly as he could to the entrance to his underground room. The door to the small shack creaked, freezing Tommy to the floor, praying that Dream was still too far to hear.

Listen, it’s not that he was scared of Dream knowing about his stash! He just… wasn’t ready to part with anything in the chests.

After a second of nothing happening, Tommy continued on. Breaking the block hiding the ladder, he glanced back out the window. No sign of Dream. The soft tink of his prosthetic hitting the ladder and the feeling of rough wood against his bare foot grounded him slightly. He’d started feeling more and more floaty recently. This time he hadn’t even noticed the slip.

“Like a worm, when they start making they cocoon,” he muttered to himself. “Bet they don’t notice either.” 

The little room looked the exact same as he had left it. Four by four, encased in cobblestone, with the two double chests on the floor against the far wall. Tommy went almost instinctively for the left chest, letting the lid rest against the wall as he dug through the chest. His photos were all still there. He really needed to move them to his enderchest, but that could wait. There wasn’t much point to it. Besides, what else did he have to leave behind for when he left?  

(He chose not to think about the fact that he wanted someone to find the pictures of him and Tubbo. If only to have someone remember that he had existed, and at one point, even been loved.)

It wasn’t until he saw the wet splotch on the photo he held that he realized he was crying. He desperately tried to clear the salt water off the picture, but his effort proved futile. The photo of him and Tubbo standing on a long ago beach now pictured a smiling Tubbo and a figure with a face so blurred, it was impossible to identify it. 

Tommy shoved the photo into the back of his empty inventory, trying to forget the memory he’d ruined by being so overdramatic. He sniffled, rubbing at his eyes to try to stop the flow of tears stubbornly rolling down his cheeks. His efforts found him staring at the ceiling, a numb sensation climbing his limbs that threatened to keep him stuck to the floor. The thought was enough to force Tommy back to his feet. He’d been down here long enough. Everything was still here, it was fine, that was what he’d wanted to check. He’d completed his goal.

Now to leave before Dream noticed his absence.

The rungs of the ladder had left small cuts across his palms by the time he’d gotten to the top. Placing the block back into its spot, Tommy let out a breath. Now to just get back to where he’d been sitting. Easiest task he’d ever been given!

As Tommy pushed the door to the cabin open, it became startlingly clear that it was not, in fact, the easiest task he’d ever been given.

“Tommy. What did I say about not moving?” Dream called from the entrance of Logsted. “What were you even doing?”

“I- just- looking for-,” Tommy paused as he sorted through his inventory. The only things there were the ruined photo and a bruised apple he didn’t remember taking from the wooden house. He quickly drew the apple from his inventory, holding it out like a peace offering. “This! You- you mentioned earlier you were hungry and I- I knew Ghostbur kept some food hidden in his little cabin somewhere! Surprised it was still there, honestly, but it’s still g-!”

“Tommy! Stop talking! I told you not to move when I walked away, yes?” Dream’s tone left no room to argue.

“Yeah, yeah, you did say that.”

“Then why did you move? It was a simple order, Tommy! Not even a difficult one to follow! And to think that I really was going to give you these!” Dream held a bundle of golden carrots up, shaking it to emphasize his point. “I thought you’d really proven that you deserved it today, I really did! Even after your behavior when I arrived. I really thought that you’d learned your lesson! But no! You-!”

Dream froze. 

Suddenly the air felt not just tense, but dangerous. It felt like the battlefield. Like the moment just before everything explodes. Tommy knew the feeling all too well. One wrong move here, and it wouldn’t just be his armor in the hole next time.

“Tommy, why were you in the cabin?” 

“I told you? The apple, re-remember?”

Silence for a moment.

“Tommy,” Dream began. “If I go in that building, will there be a brewing stand?”

Before Tommy could object, Dream spoke again.

“Think about your answer carefully. Is there a brewing stand inside that building, Tommy?”

“No. No! Of course not! You- I’m not- I’m not allowed-! No, there isn’t a brewing stand!”

“Okay.” Dream lowered his arm to his side. “So there’d be no problem with me going inside?”

“No, no, there wouldn’t be, no.” 

Tommy didn’t like where this was heading. Or where Dream was heading for that matter, he thought, as Dream crossed the grass to the steps of the small hut. The creaking of the door reminded Tommy all too much of the secret he was hiding beneath their feet. He followed Dream into the cabin, desperate to make sure that he did not discover the chests below them. 

Dream’s footsteps echoed throughout the room as he examined the inside. Once he saw that there was no brewing stand in sight, he nodded to himself and left the cabin. He stood outside waiting for Tommy to follow, before turning to face him.

“Tommy, don’t think I’m an idiot. I know you could very well be hiding it in your inventory, so let’s just drop every-!”

As soon as Tommy saw the shovel in Dream’s hand hit the ground, he knew it was over.

Dream’s silence was a firm reminder of how badly Tommy had fucked up. 

The sound of TNT being placed threw Tommy out of his terrified stupor.

“NO!” He yelled as he dove towards the chests, scrabbling for the photos before Dream grabbed him by the scruff of his shirt and threw him out of the hole in the ground. The explosion knocked him flat onto his back, crushing his wings underneath him.

“Tommy!” Dream rounded on the teen. “You hid chests! Not only did you disobey my orders today, you’ve been lying to me! For weeks! I mean, what did you think you were even gonna do with that stuff? Try to- I don’t know- kill me?” Dream stood above him.

“No, no, I promise I’d never, you’re my best friend! I’d never hurt you!”

“Well you have. You’ve been keeping secrets! Friends don’t do that, Tommy!”

“I'm sorr- wait, no, where are you going? Dream?” 

The sight of the TNT spread across Logstedshire was one that Tommy hoped he’d never see again.

“No! Not the Prime Log, please! You can’t blow that up, anything but that!”

The flaming arrow and the taut bow in Dream’s grip lowered.

“Anything?”

“Anything!”

The arrow shifted, now pointing directly at Tommy. He braced for impact, confused when he felt none, even as the arrow hit its target with a ‘ thunk!’ . Tommy looked down, trying to find where the arrow landed on his body, before quickly realizing it hadn’t hit him. A pained moo from behind him left Tommy’s world collapsing.

“No…” Tommy turned to the corner where Mushroom Henry had been laying. “No please no! Henry! Not again, not again!” 

Tommy raced to the cow’s side. Dream had hit the poor animal in the throat, and there was no way that Tommy could think of to save him. So instead, he gently pressed his forehead to Henry’s, whispering comfort and small prayers in between his sobs as Henry lay dying.

“You bitch! He- You- He didn’t even do anything!” 

“Tommy, you're being irrational! It’s just an animal!”

And before he knew it, Tommy lunged. 

The two went tumbling to the ground, and Tommy’s mind went blank. All he knew was the rage in his veins and the sharp taste of iron in his mouth. A growing crowd of whispers cheered Tommy on, until a sharp hit to the jaw threw him off of Dream. He rolled across the dirt as the masked man lifted himself to his feet.

“And now you’re attacking me!” Dream shrieked. “Like some kind of- some kind of rabid animal! You bit me for Prime’s sake! ”  

The netherite gauntlets on Dream’s arms had only one vulnerable area, and somehow, in his blind panic, Tommy had managed to find it. He couldn’t believe himself. He’d just attacked Dream. He’d bit him. Oh Prime, there was no reforming him now. And from the piles of TNT he was placing around Logsted, it seemed Dream had realized that too.

Tommy barely managed to get out of the blast zone before Logsted was reduced to rubble. He could only stare at the wreckage before him, a pile of burning wood and a cracked bell rolling towards them. 

No words came to him. 

There was nothing to say.

Dream grabbed his arm, dragging him away from the sight, stopping in front of Tommy’s tent. Tommy felt numbness creeping into his limbs, making his head go all fuzzy as he watched Dream throw lit dynamite into his tent. He’d been sleeping there not twelve hours ago. And now it was gone.

The wreckage didn’t stop there, any structure Dream deemed worthy of destroying was left a smoking and smoldering pile on the singed grass. 

The final stop that Dream dragged him to was the nether portal. He dropped Tommy’s arm, his bruising grip finally letting go, and with a couple careful swings, broke off a chunk of the frame.

“Listen to me, Tommy!” He grabbed Tommy's shirt, yanking the boy close and lifting him off the ground. He shook Tommy with each sentence that he yelled. “You are not allowed to go to the nether, no one is allowed to visit you, you aren’t allowed to leave your exile, and you are not allowed to keep things from me. I thought we were friends! You’ve betrayed me, Tommy.”

“I’m really sorry, Dream, I promise, I’ll be better, I swear!”

“Sorry doesn’t cut it anymore, Tommy! If you really were sorry you wouldn’t have hidden chests!” 

Tommy was suddenly let go, tumbling to the ground without Dream holding him up. His eyes locked onto the dirt and grass below him. Even the thought of looking Dream in the eye felt impossible.

“I’m leaving. I’ll be back next week.”

“But- next week? It’s only-” Tommy paused, not entirely sure what day it was. “But- how often will you visit me?”

“Maybe once every couple weeks. Once a week if you prove you deserve it.”

“But-!”

“No buts, Tommy. Now stay here and think about what you’ve done.” 

And then Dream was gone. 

And Tommy was alone. 

Like always, the whispers muttered.

Tommy picked himself up slowly. He wandered the wreckage of Logstedshire, picking up all the blocks that had survived.

And he began to build. 

Up, up, up.

And at the top of his tower, he looked down at the place he’d lived for the last several months. 

It all looked rather pitiful.

Maybe if he was lucky, they’d give him a proper funeral, bury him with a bell and everything.

And as he let himself fall over the edge, he deluded himself with fantasies of people showing up to his funeral, dropping flowers at his grave and giving speeches about how he’d be dearly missed.

He wondered if his ghost would be anything like Ghostbur.

The void greeted him readily.

Chapter Text

Reader has joined the game

<Watching Player: Docm77>

“Grian,” Doc pushed, for what was the third time that night, “You need to go to sleep, your body needs rest.” 

Grian didn’t acknowledge him, just stared blankly at the ceiling. If Doc didn’t know any better he’d say he was looking at nothing. He wants nothing more than to tell him to close his eyes, to stop watching whatever is keeping him awake. But he does know better, he knows that no matter how dark a room is or how tight he shuts his eyes, Grian doesn’t have that option. 

“Just let us give you a weakness potion,” He implored, letting his desperation show through in his voice. “You need sleep, G.” 

“I can’t.” He said, his voice quiet and raspy with misuse.

“That’s why we have the weakness potion, it will help.” 

“No.”

“ Grian -”

“No.” He repeated, turning his face away from him, clinging to Mumbo with his right arm while his left remained holding Pearl's hand. Doc just sighed in defeat and walked back over to the office area at the front.

“You’re not going to be able to convince him,” Cub said, not looking up from the seemingly never ending medical charts he was filling out.

“I know.”

“Then why do you keep fighting him?”

“Because he should be able to rest like everyone else. He’s in pain, sleep will help with that.”

“His body will succumb to exhaustion eventually.” 

“If only he weren’t so damn stubborn about it.” 

“He’s just like everyone else on this server, impossible to treat, the lot of you.” Cub laughed softly, “You think Grian’s bad, just wait until you have to tell Tango he’s gonna be in the infirmary for at least the next two weeks while those burns heal.”    

“Yeah, you can have fun with that.”

“Hey now, you’re the one in charge of his care!”

“But you’re more of an actual doctor here.”

“Your name is literally-!”

Before their argument could spiral into what would be a never ending debate, they were interrupted by the sound of rockets and a crash outside. Followed shortly by what sounded like several profanities in Galactic. As they stood up to see what the commotion was, their extremely frazzled looking admin walked into the medical bay, much to their amusement.

“If you’re trying to be sneaky, Xisuma, it's not working,” Cub said, with barely contained laughter. 

“I will tell Keralis on you,” Doc threatened, trying at a scolding glare considering X was skipping sleep, yet again. However, its effect was most definitely diminished by the fact that he was actively trying not to laugh at his disheveled state. 

Xisuma didn’t respond to their quips, simply straightened himself out and looked at them with an expression Doc didn’t think he’d ever want to see on his admins face again. “We have a problem.” 

Their smiles fell. 

“Problem?” 

“There’s an intruder on the server.” The words were clearly stated, careful and concise as Xisuma stood, a force as unmoving as bedrock, ever the calm man in a storm. Doc wasn’t sure that without his eye he’d even notice the unnaturally tense way his joints were held, almost like a person paralyzed to stone. Someone who had a grave understanding which of their breaths would be their last before fate carved a statue from their soul.

“An intruder?” 

“Is that even possible?” 

“It’s not supposed to be.”

“Do we know how they got on?”

“No, the server shows no sign of a breach, the firewalls are completely intact. Even experienced hackers would struggle to pass through those barriers without leaving some sort of hole.”

“Great.” Cub shrunk back in his seat, shoulders wilting with the weight of the toll this day continued to take. “So we have a powerful hacker on our server while almost half of our people are completely incapacitated. Just great.” 

“We’ll be able to handle whatever it is,” Doc asserted, they’d all fought worse before and he’d be damned to let a single virus ruin the only sanctuary they had. “There are plenty of us available. I’m betting some of the others are still awake, we’ll just get their coords and deal with it now before it becomes a problem.” 

“That’s another problem, I can’t access their coords.” 

“What?” Cub said before Doc had the chance to, “What do you mean you can’t access their coords?”

Xisuma looked just as confused as he felt, which only unnerved Doc more, “I’m not sure what’s going on,” he said. “Whoever they are, their code is so messed up that I can hardly read it, let alone use it to track them. The only thing I can see from the main console is their name and species. I can’t even kick them from the server.” 

“It's definitely a player though?” Doc forced himself to ask. He didn’t even want to face the other possibility, but he needed the confirmation. 

“It’s definitely a player,” Xisuma responded, and at least that bit was said with confidence. The admin met Doc’s eyes with unspoken assurance, though it was not exactly comforting. A look that simply read, If it were Them we’d already be too late. 

Cub looked up at them both with a questioning glance, clearly having caught the subtle interaction yet unable to decipher it. However, Doc had no intention of quelling his confusion, and he knew, neither did X, so he pushed the conversation past it.

“So what do we do? It would be near impossible to search the entire server with a hundred people quick enough, and we’ve got barely a dozen.” 

“I wish I knew the answer, but they could be anywhere on the server,” X paused, breaking eye contact in favor of the floor. “-especially since they’ve been here for hours.”

“Hours?” Doc snapped, having to remind himself to keep his voice down before continuing in an urgent whisper. “Why are we just finding out about this now? They could have ripped the whole damn server to shreds by now! How did this get missed?”

He didn’t mean to aim his frustration at anybody, it was no one's fault that this day just kept piling things on top of them and he knew that; this was just one more thing to piss him off, the straw that broke the camel's back kinda thing. Regardless of what he intended, he saw the words hit as Xisuma winced under his mask.

 “I didn’t know before now. They came in when the others got back, and with them all coming back at once I didn’t read the names carefully enough. I’m-” 

“Not your fault,” He said abruptly, before the apologies could start spilling off his friend’s tongue. “We were all preoccupied today.” He was positive that the aggressive clipped words ensured that they were not the least bit comforting, but it was all he could manage now. With the pictures of his mangled friends burned into his brain and a threat on their server, he couldn’t spare the energy to reassure him properly.

“Well, maybe that's a good sign,” Cub suggested, earning him a pair of confused looks. “I mean, X, are there any problems with the server? Have they done anything?” 

“No actually, the server is fine, none of the code has been messed with, there haven’t even been any bugs or glitches added. The only difference is that they’re here.” 

“Then it’s probably not emergent, don’t ya think if they intended to cause harm they would have done so already?” 

“You have a point,” Doc conceded, relaxing ever so slightly. Whoever they are, they certainly wouldn’t have waited to be found out before doing damage. Xisuma however, didn’t look the least bit comforted. “This happened before, remember? Back at the beginning of season six and it was fine.”

Cub nodded, “Yeah, we all panicked at the intruder notification and it turned out to just be an injured avian.” 

“And pesky as he may be, he certainly wasn’t a threat.”

“Maybe you’re right,” X sighed, sitting down on a spare stool, resting his head in his hands as his limbs sunk like they were made with lead. 

“Either way, if you can't use their code there's not much we can do about it now,” Doc said with quiet resignation. “Trying to search the world right now would lead to nothing and just be a waste of energy.” 

Cub hummed in agreement, “There's no immediate threat, we can tackle this in the morning. For now we should get some rest. And by we, I mean you, X, you desperately need sleep.” 

Before Xisuma could open his mouth to argue, Doc jumped in, “He's right, you look like shit.” 

“Watch your language,” their admin grumbled half-heartedly. 

“I'll learn to watch my language when you get a decent sleep schedule.” 

“So when pigs fly.”

Xisuma sent them both a weak glare, but thankfully didn't argue any further. “I'm just gonna send a message to the others to keep an eye out.” 

After putting his comm away, he stood up slowly, swaying like fighting gravity had become a very difficult task.

 Several seconds passed of him staring at the hospital beds on the other side of the room before Cub piped up, “There’s an extra cot over by Etho,” he informed him, “You can rest here, we’ll wake you if anything happens.”

Xisuma gave a barely there smile before making his way to said cot and finally lying down, falling asleep almost as soon as his head hit the pillow. 

<Watching Player: TommyInnit>

Tommy woke up sore. 

It wasn’t really something he expected to do at all, if he was being honest. 

Nonetheless, Tommy woke up sore, and very, very confused. 

He was surrounded by three walls of labelled chests. A podium stood in the center of the chest area, a small statue of an elder guardian sitting atop the blue altar. The floor beneath him was made of a cold stone, black and grey, with a slightly sooty gleam to it. He’d never seen stone like this before. Or a chest room so clean. He must be dreaming.

Or dead. 

Right. He's dead. 

Everything rushed back to him, the golden carrots, the secret stash, the tower .

He’d- he’d killed himself. And now he was here. 

Wherever here was.

The room was buzzing all around him, flashes and sparks falling from the ceiling in random bursts. It was disorienting. He tried to sit up, but his ribs protested, his stomach turned, his head spun. He laid back down on his side, hoping it would alleviate some of the pain he was finding himself in.

How cruel of Death to keep him injured, to let him hurt. How cruel of Death to make him remember the life before.

You thought yourself free ? the whispers mused. What a pity. 

That damned muttering, it’d followed him here too? He thought he could ignore it, he thought it would go away eventually, but now it was all that was left to keep him company. 

Something’s better than nothing, the mutters assured.

“I guess,” Tommy mumbled, breaking the silence of the room. 

Time passed him by as he laid facing the aquamarine pedestal. The aches across his body dulled as time went on, all while the room around him steadily lost its sharp edges and turned to blurry colors and impressions of light. Then the room lost that, becoming a void of inky blackness as Tommy succumbed to unconsciousness. 

He was in and out of awareness for the next several hours, or at least he thinks it was hours. It’s hard to tell time in the afterlife. Is there time in the afterlife?

Tommy tiredly shook the question out of his head and blinked back into wakefulness. He took a deep, rattling breath as he tried to push himself onto his arms and knees, succeeding slightly and getting much farther than his first efforts. His arms trembled beneath his weight, though he couldn’t really feel them shake. He only knew they were because he was staring at them, his vision blurring intermittently. He couldn't feel his hands. Or his wings. It was like his limbs were made of smoke, only real when he could see them.

He was going all fuzzy again. 

He tried his best to shake the feeling off, but it persisted, so he elected to ignore it the best he could. 

He brought himself up onto his knees, then to his feet, one hand on the podium for support, drawing his wings to his back as he carefully stood.

Or at least he tried to. The right wing moved just fine, curling up against his shoulder blade, but when he tried to move the left wing, a sharp pain struck the limb, freezing him in place with the sheer intensity of it. He tried to move it again once the pain subsided, much slower so as to not agitate it, but the limb refused, twitching and burning hotter every time he tried. 

He had to keep his wings close to himself, otherwise he’d let the limb remain limp and sprawled out. But if he did that, they’d be vulnerable to attack. They were already vulnerable enough, being outside of his shirt like they were. He didn’t quite remember letting his wings free before jumping, but he didn’t really want to think about that right now. So instead, he reached his arm around to the injured wing, grabbed below the joint in the middle, and pulled it tightly to his body. 

And Tommy screamed .

His vision went white with pain, only clearing what felt like an eternity later to the black stone beneath him. He heaved, a dry scraping sound leaving his throat as he tried to breathe through the nausea-inducing pain. His stomach was rolling. 

He pushed himself up onto his arms, leaning to the side so he wouldn't choke on his own vomit. He heaved once, twice, then felt bile climb his throat, burning the back of his mouth on the way out. He coughed through the motions, collapsing back onto the floor once his body had exhausted itself. He took a deep breath, the air scraping his throat, then another, and another, until he didn't feel like he was going to fall apart anymore.

“Okay, not- not doing that again,” Tommy breathed. 

He turned his head to look at the offending limb behind him. It was not only twisted at an odd angle, misfolded and bent backwards, but stained a deep red color that covered nearly his entire wing. It wouldn't be so concerning if that were his coloring, but his wings were normally more of an off-white than an off-maroon. The feathers themselves stood practically on end, ruffled and splintered, except for a patch around where the red was the deepest. The feathers there were soaked, slicked down and stuck together with his own blood. The wing twitched, sending a jolt of pain shooting up his shoulder and making him wince. The sight of his mangled wing caused his stomach to lurch again. He turned away from the sight before it could do worse.

“Okay, okay. I can- I can handle this. Just a bit of blood. I'll be fine,” Tommy repeated, trying to soothe his anxiety about being potentially down another limb. If he had to amputate his wing, he’d be pissed. Learning to balance again after an amputation was a bitch and a half.

He lifted himself slowly again, body leaning against the cool blue statue, until he had one, then two legs beneath him. He let most of his weight fall onto his metal imitation of a foot, letting his sore left ankle rest. His prosthetic dug into his skin from the pressure of leaning on it, but it was a pain he was used to and one he could ignore for the time being. 

He took a few tentative steps away from the stone elder guardian, hoping to scope out his surroundings before he bled out or something. His ankle twinged with every step, and phantom pains raced up where his right leg would have been. A cool brush of air on his back let him know his shirt had been ripped open at some point, likely by his wings. Maybe with any luck he'd find a new shirt. 

By now, it was all too clear to him that this wasn’t the afterlife. Honestly, he should have guessed from the fact that he was in a storage room. Surely death wasn’t just an eternal storage room with a strange statue in the center and too many too-neat chests. Surely death wouldn’t be so cruel as to give him injuries. He hadn’t had such a badly injured wing beforehand. He must have survived the fall somehow. 

Maybe he’d hit the water? Maybe someone had found him? But that wouldn’t explain why he woke up alone on the floor of a storage area, covered in his own blood. There had to be more that he wasn’t seeing yet.

A sharp pain spiking into his shoulder blades reminded him that he had bigger worries than wondering why he was here. He had an injured wing, for Prime’s sake. He needed to find bandages or potions, hell, even a loaf of bread would be better for his health than standing here. 

So Tommy started looking around. The room extended past the chest area, into an open space with work benches, a coat rack, and even a tall red mailbox. There was even what looked like a large indent in the far wall, surrounded by gears and wires. Tommy would go explore it if he wasn’t so desperate for something to ease the pain he was in. 

Progress was slow-going, with Tommy needing to take a break nearly every minute from pure exhaustion. He’d rifled through almost a dozen chests by now, and each one of them was so neatly organized it was making his head spin. He’d not managed to find any health supplies just yet, but he’d already seen so many new things that he was starting to get worried he’d somehow ended up on a modded server.

Oh.

He hadn’t even considered he might be on another server. 

That- that would certainly complicate things. 

Tommy shook his head and continued rooting through the chests. It didn’t matter where he was, if he was alive, that meant that he wasn’t in exile anymore, and Dream would be pissed if he left exile. 

Oh, shit.  

He forgot about Dream. 

Dream would be so disappointed in him. If Dream found out what he’d done, he’d never let Tommy go back to L’manburg. Honestly, what kind of vice president tries to run away from their problems? If Dream were here-

Oh, Prime, what if that’s where he was? Dream’s base, or-!

Tommy tried to shake his head, tried getting his thoughts to quiet, but the whispers had started up and shaking his head was doing nothing but making his hands shake too. He felt like he was collapsing. He grabbed onto the closest thing for support, hoping he’d be able to manage to keep himself upright, but it only sent him and the contents of the chest behind him tumbling to the floor. 

He didn’t feel the pain when he fell. 

His breath was coming to him in short pants, running away from him faster the more he tried to catch it. There was no room to breathe, the chests crowded in on him, getting closer and closer the longer he stayed. His head was cracking, splitting apart, and he was only keeping it together thanks to the two hands pressing in on the sides of his skull. 

“Oh Prime . Oh Prime, oh Prime, oh Prime. He’s gonna kill me! ” The words barely escaped his gritted teeth. His chest was caving in on him, he was going to die before Dream even got a hold of him, he was sure. 

He felt like he was falling. 

He was falling, all over again. 

Prime, he was dying , all over again!

A cacophony of muttering played static in his ears, blocking any outside noise that may have tried to reach him.

Tommy was grasping at the ground beneath him, trying to convince himself he wasn’t falling- not again, not anymore- when his hand hit cool metal. It was such a stark difference compared to the texture of the floor that it threw him off course for a moment. 

“What-” he coughed, trying to reign himself in after the panic subsided for a moment. “-the hell?” 

A small rectangular box of metal sat innocently in his hand, the little display screen cracked and familiar in a way that made Tommy ache. It wasn’t his comm, that was for certain, but it was a communicator . A genuine, real comm, nothing like the sad cobblestone mimicry he’d made back in Logsted. Tommy hadn’t seen one of these in- in-. He wasn’t quite sure how long it'd been.

The comm was painted a bright yellow with a bold black ‘i’ on the back. There were clear signs of love and care for the device covering it from top to bottom. The keyboard on it was worn down, several letters were partially rubbed off or even missing from the keys. There were outlines trailing down the sides where stickers once were, now evident only thanks to residual adhesive. There was redstone dust stuck between the grooves of the keys and a tiny splotch of stray yellow paint on the screen.

Does it even still work?

Tommy pressed down on the power button, waiting for the comm’s screen to light up. There was a groove in the side of the small box that Tommy worried his thumb against. Strangely enough, it made him feel more solid than before.

The comm made a slight whirring noise as the screen slowly but surely lit up. The screen was mostly taken up by the server chat box on the left, with grayed out buttons on the right side. They seemed to be deactivated personal stats, like health and coords. 

This was definitely someone’s old communicator. Tommy had heard some other server members talking about getting new comms before, back during the first revolution. And one time Niki had even shown him her old one, and it looked very similar to this. All the player-specific functions had been deactivated in order to move it to her new communicator, but her server chat function had also been disabled. It seemed whoever owned this one hadn’t bothered with that. They had disabled their own text input option, though, so Tommy couldn’t send anything, only receive messages. 

The chat was completely empty, no message history from before he’d powered the comm on, until-

<Xisumavoid [Admin]> Hey, I need everyone keeping an eye out for an unwhitelisted player. No threat currently, I'd just like to find them.

<Xisumavoid [Admin]> Name’s, TommyInnit

Oh shit. 

He really was on another server.

Chapter Text

Reader has joined the game.

<Watching Player: ImpulseSV>

After three long days of being stuck in the medical bay and fussed over like a small child, Impulse was finally deemed “healed enough” to be allowed to leave, much to his fellow injured hermits’ shared jealousy. A few of them would probably have joined him if it wasn’t for the fact that not a single one of them had a good track record of knowing their limits and taking care of themselves. He wasn’t necessarily the best at that either, but he at least knew better than to not listen to the other hermits while they’re in protective mode. This didn't, however, free him of the routine medical lectures.

“-And don't overexert yourself, you're still healing!” Cub reminded. “That means limited building for a couple weeks, no sprinting, flying, or lots of climbing, and make sure to change your bandages regularly and keep applying the antibiotic to-” 

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” he interrupted, smiling at Cub. “I know the drill, you don't have to worry about me, I’m not Etho, I’ll take care of myself.”

“Hey-!” 

Impulse turned to where Etho was laying begrudgingly on a cot.

"He's got a point," Beef piped up, sitting at Etho's bedside, busying himself with a sudoku puzzle all while every once and a while attempting to get his friend to quit being annoying whilst stuck in bed.

"Oh, you shut up too.”

"Be nice."

Etho pointed at Beef accusingly before speaking. "Don't tell me to be nice, you're holding me hostage here."

"You are not being held hostage, you absolute drama queen."

"I'm being held here against my will, by definition a hostage situation."

"Boo hoo, god forbid we force you to rest while you're injured."

"I'm hardly injured, I feel fine!"

"Bull."

"No, that's you."

"You wince just trying to take a sip of water, Tough Guy, which you need to be drinking more of by the way,” Beef chastised.

"Yeah yeah, you don't have to mother me."

"Well you're acting like a child."

"I have things to work on," Etho, the alleged grown man, whined.

"Your projects will still be there when you're finished healing. Rest for once in your life will you."

"Enjoy freedom for me, Impulse." 

"You are impossible."

Impulse offered Etho an apologetic smile and a chuckle before he turned back to Cub. “But really, I promise I’ll be careful. You go take a break, you’ve been watching over these knuckleheads for nearly ten hours now. Let Doc or Zed take over again.”

“Oh please, we all know Zed isn’t healing anyone, he’s just here to rUN TESTS!”

Cub shouted, turning a light-hearted glare to where Zedaph stood over Tango with a clipboard.

“I’m behaving! I swear!” Zed protested, smiling a little too wide to be telling the truth. “I’m checking progress! Important work,” he nodded.

Cub turned back to Impulse with a slow shake of his head. 

“Good luck, Cub, looks like you’ll need it,” Impulse joked, chuckling at Cub’s  long-suffering sigh.

“I need Zed to develop an understanding of ethics is what I need.” 

“You sir, have no room to talk about ‘ethics’! Need I remind everyone of the Convex from Season 5?”

Cub made a face at the call-out. “Anyways- just please be careful, I’ve cleared you to go but you could still get reinjured really easily right now and another respawn this soon would only make this worse-”

“Cub! I got it, I’m good, I promise.”

“I’ll hold you to that. I’ll sic False on you if you do something stupid.”

“ That is a threat I’ll take very seriously.”

Before leaving out the door, Impulse turned one last time to the cots on the other side of the room, “Do you guys want me to do anything for you?” He asked.

“Nah we’re good,” Gem piped up. “Enjoy your freedom.”

“You say that like this is a prison.”

“Basically is.”

“You’re so dram-”

“You’re literally getting out on good behavior, I’m not wrong.”

“She’s right,” Etho, The Infamous Instigator, agreed. “Run while you still can.”

And Impulse did. 

He slowed to a walk after Cub sent him a Look, however, being sure to continue on a slow and steady pace to his cybercity so he wouldn’t get chewed out and stuck right back in medical. It was a much longer walk than he remembered, but the view of his city walls was a welcome sight, one that made the journey worth it.

Impulse tipped his helmet at his door, watching with a relieved sigh as it opened just as intended. It felt nice to be back home, back on Hermitcraft, back in his base. The storage room was exactly as he'd unwilling left it, clean and organized, with not a single thing out of pla- 

“Huh?” 

There was a red feather on the floor in front of him. As Impulse looked further in, he realized it was not just one, but one of many red feathers across his floor. Surely Grian hadn't been here? But he was the only Hermit with red feathers.

“Grian?” He called. “I thought you weren't getting let out of med watch for another week?”

There was no answer.

“Grian?” 

Impulse stepped further into the room. 

More feathers. He bent down to pick one up and only noticed once the feather was in his hand, damp and sticky, that it wasn't one of Grian's tell-tale red feathers, but rather the blood-soaked covert feather of an unknown avian.

Impulse dropped the feather as soon as it registered in his mind what he was holding. 

He looked to where the feather had fallen, finally taking notice of the mess his storage room was really in. There was a chest on the back wall that had been pulled out and tipped over, the contents littering the floor. There was broken glass, an empty potion bottle, some spare pieces of coal, and a torn piece of cloth lying beside it. His guardian statue had a bloody handprint smeared on the side, a perfect match to the pool of blood on the ground next to it. Just beside the blood, a mess of vomit sat, adding to the rather disgusting, and disturbing, scene.

Impulse almost threw up at the sight of it.

“What in the world..?” Impulse breathed. “What happened here?”

A whimper from the shadowed area of the room pulled his attention upwards from the messy floor. 

“Is someone,” he paused. “Here?”

Another whimper, this time muffled, like whoever it was didn’t want Impulse to hear it. He couldn’t identify where it was coming from.

“Listen, if you just tell me where you are, we can get you to the medbay! You’re probably injur-!” He facepalmed, closing his eyes to avoid looking at the bloody floor. “Oh, what am I saying, you’re definitely injured!”

Whoever this was, was likely supposed to already be in the medbay, probably someone who left without clearance if the blood and vomit said anything. 

Perhaps it was Grian?

He tended to get like that after the games, but they usually kept a closer eye on him because of that, so what happened?

The whimpers turned to staggered, muffled breathing, somewhere in the back corner by the chests. It seemed to get louder as the seconds went on, more ragged and panicked. Impulse searched the wall where the sound came from, hoping to catch a glimpse of whichever hermit was so badly injured (and so terribly scared). 

A flash of movement underneath the gap between two chests in the bottom right corner caught Impulse’s eye. Whoever was underneath his chests was practically hyperventilating now- wheezing, faltering gasps of air filled the large room. Impulse could just barely hear choked words and sobs mixed into the gasps. 

“Okay,” Impulse began, slowly making his way over to the chests the mystery hermit had burrowed under. “Hey, it's okay, I’m not gonna hurt you, I just wanna help,” He attempted, trying to sooth whoever this was from their obvious panic. 

This unfortunately, did not help. 

Impulse was frozen, wracking his brain trying to figure out how to help without freaking them out more, while also trying to figure out which of the hermits this could possibly be. Pearl and False were the only other two hermits with feathers aside from Grian but he was sure it couldn’t be either of them. Pearl had been asleep when he’d left the med bay and with the state of her wings currently, there wasn’t any way she could fly around the shopping district, let alone all the way out to his base. And he was pretty sure it couldn’t be False- even her shortest feathers were much longer than the bloodied ones scattered across his base. Not to mention he’d hardly ever seen the woman cry, let alone breaking down and hiding in a corner. Of course, everyone had their bad days, but still, there’d be no reason for her to hide in his base if she was having one. 

So then who could it be? No one else- wait, didn’t X mention something about an intruder on the server? They could be an avian. What did he say their name was? Tommy something?

With no other ideas, “Tommy?” He tried. 

This was the Wrong Move.

The person, who he’s now safely assuming is in fact Tommy, started somehow hyperventilating even faster, the sound of metal and skin scraping against stone as the player beneath his chests scrambled backwards. The incoherent sound of muttering caught Impulse’s ear, frantic and terrified, not so much words as concepts of pleas and prayers.

In what was probably an attempt to get even further away, Tommy hit his head on the bottom of the chest above him, and promptly he crumbled to the ground. The sound of his quick breathing and incoherent murmuring was replaced by the sudden thunk of a skull hitting the ground before the room plunged into unsteady silence. Now, taking his turn to panic, Impulse started moving the cumbersome chests as quickly as he could in his still, “supposed to be taking it easy,” injured state. 

(If he agitated his burns a bit, well, what Cub doesn’t know won’t hurt him). 

Once the chests were out of the way, the overhead light revealed a small hole in his storage room floor, presumably dug by the visibly very injured person who laid unconscious before him. Now with a somewhat clearer view of the player, save for the details his shadow blocked out, he could see, to his surprise, how young they were. 

The kid couldn’t be anymore than fifteen, tall and skinny, a matted mop of light brown hair and two, what would be, impressive wings- had they not been covered in blood, dirt and grime; missing large clumps of feathers, even more so than the ones currently decorating his storage room floor. The rest of his body was a grim match to his wings, a mess of blood, bruise, and scarring covering the exposed skin of his arms and legs. Or- leg, Impulse corrected, noting that that must've been the source of the metal sound he'd heard. The shoddy prosthetic was honestly the cleanest part of the kid, despite being rather dented and bloody. 

At a loss of what to do next, knowing he couldn’t very well carry this kid on his own right now, but knowing he needed to get him medical attention as fast as possible, he grabbed his comm.

<ImpulseSV> X, I found the intruder.

<Xisumavoid> Omw, where are you at?

<ImpulseSV> In the cyber city, big purple building, yellow windows, door facing the walls

<ImpulseSV> Bring Cub or someone with you, it’s a kid

<ImpulseSV> He’s injured. Bad

<Xisumavoid> Well be there in 5

By the time Xisuma and Cub arrived, the latter carrying an on-the-go first aid kit, the kid had, thankfully, started to regain a bit of consciousness. This unfortunately returned the panic from before, though this time even less coherent. 

“Found him hiding below my chests,” Impulse briefly explained, “He was terrified, panicked when I called his name and hit his head.”  Cub quickly set to work, masterfully tending to his more prevalent wounds as best he could while Xisuma pulled up code via his comm. Impulse tried his best to whisper reassurances to the still scared Tommy, that he was safe, that they were trying to help, but every word unfortunately went unheard.

“Gonna whitelist him,” Xisuma announced.  “I can’t do much else, his code is- weird . But now, just in case we need, we can force a respawn.”

And if Impulse thought the kid was freaking out before, it was nothing on his reaction to the word ‘respawn’. His eyes were unseeing, yet they darted around the room frantically, seemingly trying to pinpoint the perceived threat. The only word Impulse could make out of his ceaseless muttering was just ‘no’ repeated over and over. He was shaking like a leaf in a hurricane, trying desperately to wriggle out of Cub’s, rather gentle for the situation, hold.

Impulse hoped he’d never see someone so terrified ever again.

Cub spoke up, his voice preemptively apologetic, “Impy, I need you to hold him still, I have to patch these wounds and his squirming is only hurting him more.”

That was the last thing he wanted to do, that would surely terrify the kid more, but he understood why it was necessary and restrained his arms as best as he could manage. As expected, this only increased his fight, forcing Impulse to tighten his hold.

“Huh,” Xisuma murmured, his voice tilting up with confusion. 

“What is it?” He inquired, internally grateful for a reason to take part of his focus off the hysteric kid he had no way of comforting. 

The admins eyebrows furrowed under his visor, “His life system is set to limited.” 

“What? Can you change it?”

“Oh yeah yeah, I can change it. It's just. There's no reason a kid this young should have a limited life system.”

It was then that Impulse looked down at the kid's inner left wrist and had to suppress a whimper at the single red heart that rested there. He did his best to take a breath, having to bite back nausea as his ability to speak abandoned him. It was too familiar. It was all way too familiar. The awful injuries, the raw fear permeating through this kid's whole body as he begged repeatedly for it to stop, and now the limited life system? It was all too much. All too soon. Breathe, he reminded himself, You’re not there. You just got home. You’re not there. You're home.

“Xisuma,” Cub spoke, thankfully, though it wasn’t aimed at him, it gave him something to focus on other than the flashing red memories assaulting his mind. “Can you message False, see if she can meet us at the med bay. I don't have enough supplies with me to properly patch and brace his wings here. And it’ll be easier with two people.” 

“Can do. And I already messaged Joe, he was nearby, to come help us transfer him to the infirmary.”

“Sounds good- Sorry, Kid,” He murmured as he wrapped him in very tight bandages that made Impulse wince just watching. Tommy flinched back as Cub tied off the bandages, squirming and rasping uneven, shallow breaths. His eyes were still foggy, glazed over and unseeing as they tried to treat the injuries they could. And then, a split second of terrified clarity before his eyes rolled back in his head. 

“Shit-!” The word fell from Cub’s mouth before Impulse had even realized what had happened. Cub grabbed onto Tommy’s wrist, seemingly feeling for a pulse. “Okay, he just passed out. Not great, but it’s manageable..”

Perfectly timed, the door opened once again, “Howdy,” Joe greeted. “We moving him now?”

“Yeah,” Cub responded, “Probably be best to move him now before he wakes up again actually, keep him from panicking and tryin’ to leap outta our arms while we’re flying.”

With practiced gentleness, the two lifted Tommy into their arms. Impulse wasn’t sure whether to be grateful the kid was out of his hands or scared because he was.

“Hey,” Xisuma said softly, grabbing his attention, stopping him from following the trio flying out the door, “You alright, Impulse?” 

With those words he fought the urge to sob, he got out a shaky, ‘“I don’t know.” before having to take several deep breaths, leaning with his hands on his knees to keep himself from fully breaking down on the spot. X didn’t say anything while he attempted to compose himself. Just stood in silent support, an unshakable pillar to keep him grounded while his walls crumbled. Eventually he steadied his tremoring hands and blinked to allow the tears that had gathered to fall so his vision could clear. “I will be,” He got out eventually.

“You don’t have to come with us, the others and I can heal him. You can stay here and relax, I’ll ask someone to come clean all this up.” 

“Thank you,” He breathed, wiping the tears from his cheek with his sleeve. “But I- uh, I’d like to go. I wanna um, I’d like to see him healed.” 

Xisuma just smiled softly, almost like he expected that to be his answer, “Of course, I’ll walk back with you.”

Chapter Text

Reader has joined the game

<Watching Player: Xisumavoid>

“You don’t have to babysit me ya know.” Impulse said, tone, slightly teasing;  breaking the silence of their steady stroll that was previously only filled with the sound of leaves ruffling and the occasional bird tweeting. “I’m perfectly capable of getting to the med bay on my own.”

Xisuma gave a sort of half hearted scoff, playing with faux offense, “I am not babysitting you! I am just walking with you!”

“Really? No overprotective ulterior motives here?”

“Me? Overprotective? I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Uh huh.”

“Is it so hard to believe that I enjoy the walk?”

“Considering your first goal in any new world is to get an elytra as fast as possible? Yes.”

“That’s about efficiency, Impulse!”

“Well,” He started, a slight mischievous smirk forming on his face, “Technically horses are way more efficient in an early world since rockets are so expensive.”

“Well, yes, that is true if you want to go based on technicalities, but one could argue that it’s easier to scope out new land from up in the air.”

“Definitely doesn’t have anything to do with the fact that you're scared of horses.”

‘You have no evidence for that. And you should stop listening to Bdubs, he doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”

“Uh huh, sure.”

Impulse gave a laugh, seeming lighter than he was before they began their trek back to medical. However there was still something off, like the games left a stain on his soul. He knew, though it was dark now, eventually, it would fade, time a better healer than most. But he also knew it wouldn’t ever fully leave, a cut will stop hurting but the scar will remain. Xisuma wished there was a more concrete way to help his friends heal. He tried not to feel bitter at how little he could do.

X pulled out his comm, hoping his, less than there, skill of subtly wouldn’t clue his friend into what he was typing.

<You whisper to Zedaph> Zed, can you stay in the med bay? Someone should sit with Impulse.

<Zedaph whispers to you> I’ll be there!

The sound of wingbeats pulled Xisuma away from his comm. Above their heads, False circled before starting her- too fast for X's comfort- descent. Despite the clear attempt to slow herself down by circling, she landed in front of Impulse with enough speed to send herself nearly tumbling (a shock for such a graceful flier). 

“Hey, X, what’s going on?” She asked in a huff, barely concealing the panic on her face. She struggled to catch her breath, clearly having flown as swiftly as she could. “Who’s hurt? What’s the emergency?”

“Sorry, False, didn’t mean for you to panic,” Xisuma responded with a slight laugh. “We found the kid who broke onto the server, he’s an avian, and his wings are- not in the best shape.”

“Could you have said that in a less ominous way, perhaps?” She huffed, pulling up her comm to show him her chat history. “‘False- medbay- asap’, really, X? How did you expect me to respond?”

“Sorry, sorry,” He tensely laughed, holding his hands up in mock surrender. “Was a bit preoccupied, didn’t think through the message.”

“We’ll talk about your lack of foresight later, where’s the kid?”

False pushed past where Xisuma and Impulse were standing in front of the medbay entrance, maneuvering her wings so she could get through the standard-sized doors. The medbay had been put up rather quickly, so they hadn’t really had time to make doors tall and wide enough for the hermits who needed them, but False managed just fine. 

“We should probably follow her,” Impulse suggested, nudging X’s shoulder. 

The scene inside the medbay was a little too familiar a little too soon for Xisuma’s liking. In the back of the main room sat his hermits, in or beside hospital beds, in varying states of healing and injury. Near the front of the medbay, a singular cot had been pulled, sectioned off from the rest of the room with a few hastily placed wool blocks. Xisuma could tell the Hermits in the back end of the room were curious, but trying to appear otherwise until they were given the go-ahead to get a closer look at this mysterious ‘child intruder’, who lay unconscious on the cot closest to the door. The only hermits around him were False, Cub, and Zed, the latter two both flitting about, attempting to clean, bandage, and heal whatever they could on the kid’s battered body. They had the kid on his side, their best attempt at keeping his wings from gaining more injuries. False stood just far enough away to not get in the two’s way, staring at the two mostly-red wings laid limply on the cot. When Zed noticed False’s arrival, he split off from where Cub was working. 

“Hey False, you mind taking over for me? There wasn't much I could do for his wings,” Zed told her, grabbing onto Impulse’s hand. It took several seconds for Impulse to tear his gaze away from Tommy, that same troubled look he wore back at his base returning as if it never left. “Let’s go sit with the others,” Zed gently guided, pulling his focus away. “The kid’ll be okay, he’s in good hands.”

Xisuma watched as Zed led Impulse to Bdub’s bedside, who was still recovering from a broken leg, before standing next to False in order to get a clearer view of exactly what state the kid was in. He felt his heart stop as his eyes landed on the achingly familiar sight of mangled wings. 

“False,” Xisuma murmured, leaning closer to her, his voice just loud enough for her to hear, “Is that what I think it is?” He asked, vaguely gesturing at the injured appendages.

She took a moment before answering, carefully examining the flight feathers that were far shorter than they should be. 

“Yeah,” She responded, voice just as quiet yet accompanied with a hint of anger. “Someone’s clipped his wings.” False let out a sort of quiet screech, with just enough aggression to tell X it was a curse of some kind, even if he couldn’t understand what exactly she was saying. 

He watched False shake out her hands, seemingly trying to get the anger-induced tremors out of them before stepping forward to start working. Xisuma moved to the end of the bed, out of the way, yet still able to keep an eye on the three before him. 

False carefully lifted up the top wing, the sight of the visible break making X wince as she set the bone. It seemed to be a clean break at the very least, Xisuma noted with relief, watching as she held the wing in place with one hand.

“Cub, I’m going to need a splint. His left wing’s broken.” 

Cub passed the supplies over to her outstretched hand, eyes flicking between her and Tommy's face. “Might want to make it quick, False, his eyes are moving. He'll wake up any second.”

False voiced her acknowledgement before setting about her work, deftly putting the splint onto his wing. Luckily, she was able to get it all set up just before the kid started to wake up, pulling her hands back as his eyes fluttered open.

Predictably, Tommy woke up fighting, his arms and legs flailing almost as soon as he gained consciousness. His breaths came in deep gulps, like a drowning man desperate for air. False and Cub did what they could to keep him from moving so as to not injure himself further; unfortunately, aside from actually restraining him to the bed, there was only so much they could do to stop his panicked thrashing.

Xisuma raised his hands towards them, as if it would help, watching frozen as they wrangled the kid back down onto the cot. They’d seemingly decided to let the kid sit up this time, rather than forcing him onto his back and wings. It luckily seemed to calm him, even if only just the slightest bit.

“Hey, hey, hey, you’re safe, alright? You’re okay, we’re here to help,” Cub was repeating. “You’re okay, everything’s okay, do you know where you are?”

“What the fuck, who the fuck are you?” Tommy yelled, hazy eyes darting around the room. He scanned each one of them, as if calculating how much of a threat they’d be. He took in his surroundings rather quickly, before his eyes landed on Xisuma, looking him up and down, like a prey animal sizing up a predator, evaluating their chances of survival. Whatever the kid saw in him put a grim look in his eyes, like he knew even if he fought, he wouldn’t win. Yet he tried anyway, puffing out his chest and sticking out his chin- an attempt to look bigger, scarier. He shook off the hands holding him, pushing himself up with shaky arms to look taller. Strangely enough, X noted, he didn’t flare out his wings like most avians would when they felt backed into a corner. He didn't move them at all.

In a meek attempt to seem less intimidating, Xisuma just barely stepped away, allowing his shoulders to sag in a way that would have gotten him critiqued for poor posture. He let his body language fall into what he hoped was the least threatening stance. After a few moments, he noticed that none of them had actually introduced themselves, everyone instead just staring, all unsure of what to do next. He broke the tense silence, careful to keep his voice level to hopefully not stress the kid out more. 

“My name's Xisuma, you can call me X. It seems you’ve crashed into my server. Any idea how you got here?” 

“You’re the admin.” It wasn’t an answer- or a question. 

“That’s correct,” X answered, noting the slight shake in his voice when announcing his title. “Welcome to Hermitcraft, do you happen to know how you got on the server?”

Tommy flinched. 

“What’s it to you, bitch?” he scowled, before his eyes widened and a look of terror fell across his features. “Shit- fuck, I'm sorry, I didn't mean it!”

The kid inhaled quickly, holding the breath still and squeezing his eyes shut as he waited, braced for whatever response he was expecting. When nothing happened, he slowly opened his eyes to stare at Xisuma with uncertainty. There was something odd about the way he was looking at him, it wasn’t just the fear that was expected of an injured kid waking up in a room with a bunch of strangers. There was confusion, aimed specifically at him that Xisuma couldn’t place the meaning behind. 

“I- I fell, okay?” Tommy blurted when the silence held for a little too long. “I fell and then I woke up in- in that room with the chests and that’s all I fucking know.”

“That’s alright,” Xisuma said, praying that his voice had a tone that sounded as  genuine as he meant it. “We’ll figure it out later. For now, we should focus on getting you healed. This is Cub and False,” he pointed to the two beside Tommy respectively. “They’ll be healing you. I think there’s a couple questions they’ve got to ask before they can keep going, however. If you can answer them, that’d be great. If you have any questions of your own, feel free to ask any of us. That sound alright?”

“Uh- yeah, I guess,” Tommy answered, clearly trying to not look overwhelmed.

“Okay,” Cub pipes up. “First question, this one’s somewhat important for us to know before we do anything else; Have you used a potion in the past 24 hours?”

“No, I swear, I know I’m not-! I mean- no. I haven’t.” 

“Noted, means we can use some if need be. Next up, and this one’s more general, but bare with me: what hurts?”

Tommy looked absolutely lost. 

“Uhm,” The kid scanned his arms and legs, seemingly searching for something to tell Cub, freezing when he looked at his wrist before sharply turning away. “My- head? Kind of hurts?” He was looking at Cub like he was expecting to be told it was the wrong answer. 

“Okay, False, could you grab an ice pack?” False nodded, turning to go grab an ice pack as Cub continued talking. “Alright, what else?”

The kid searched again, eyes constantly drawing back to his wrist. “Where’d it- uhm, I mean, my… ankle too?”

“False, make that multiple ice packs!” Cub called out after looking a bit at Tommy’s ankle, before turning back to face him. “Alright, I’ll save you the… guessing games? Let’s just heal as we go, sound good?”

“Thanks, I think?”

“This ankle looks twisted, not anything more than that, so it should be good in about a week or so, just be careful on it, nothing crazy.”

“I think I can manage that, but uhm, quick- quick question.” Tommy turned to look at Xisuma. “When you- when you guys found me, did I have a um, a heart here?” He held out his wrist. “I just- how am I here if I don’t have any lives left?”

Xisuma took a deep breath, not liking the implications of what was being asked. “You did have one,” He said carefully, trying to keep his own anxiety in check. Did he not know what a normal life system looked like? “I removed the life limit from your code so you could respawn safely if needed.”

“What? This isn’t some fucking fairytale, be honest. Why’s the heart gone?”

“I’m being honest… I simply set you back to the usual unlimited lives for home servers.”

“What kind of server just has unlimited lives? That’s a bit much, innit? Like, wouldn’t that be harder for you? As an admin and all?”

Xisuma didn’t think he could stomach asking him what exactly he meant by that. “No,” He said slowly, “It actually makes my job easier since I don’t have to worry about any of my people running out of lives. This is a home server, we don’t need hardcore rules here.” He added, trying to speak relatively light while trying to figure out if Tommy even knew about different game rules.

“But-!” Tommy must’ve seen something in Xisuma’s face because his demeanor shifted suddenly. “Sorry. I just- nevermind. Let’s just get back to this fucking healing shit or whatever.”

Internally, Xisuma was glad to have the change of subject, something was very wrong about wherever this kid came from, that much was clear and he didn’t think he had enough mental energy to get the full story now. Plus he doubted Tommy wanted to tell it.  

“I’ve got the ice packs,” False announced, dropping a, rather large, pile of ice packs onto a silver cart beside the bed, next to an array of other medical equipment. 

Cub looked relieved to be back on the topic of healing as he grabbed an ice pack and an extra pillow, placing the pillow beneath Tommy’s ankle and the ice pack on top. Tommy looked a little annoyed at the slight manhandling, but he didn’t say anything, grabbing the ice pack Cub offered to him- not putting it anywhere, just holding it, like he didn’t really want to admit he was hurt.

“Okay, ankle’s taken care of, let’s see, your legs and arms had mostly just scratches and a couple burns on them, but those have been taken care of already,” Cub rattled. “Any pain in your torso? Stomach, chest, ribs, or back?

Tommy shook his head. 

“Are you sure? No aches or pains, nothing else I need to worry about?”

“I’m fine, seriously.”

“Okay, if you insist. But I’m going to have you take a couple sips of this health pot, just to catch anything we missed. Should be safe if you haven’t had one recently.” 

Tommy’s eyes widened at the potion bottle Cub held out to him. 

“No, no thanks, I don’t need it.” 

“You sure?” 

“Yeah I’m fu-! I’m sure.”

Cub shrugged before putting the potion back onto the cart he’d grabbed it from. “In that case, I’ll let you be for a minute. X, can I speak to you?”

Xisuma nodded and followed Cub further into the main room of the medbay, where the rest of the injured hermits sat, staring in clear curiosity at them. 

“Ya know, when I made the Grian comparison I wasn’t expecting it to be so on the nose,” Cub quipped once they were out of earshot. 

“What about me?” Another voice piped up, followed by the movement of an injured person sitting up way faster than they should be. 

“The intruder’s an avian,” Zedaph answered for them. “He’s real injured too, gave us all deja vu from when you got here- well crashed here .”

“Rude,” Grian spat, no real heat behind his words.

“I will say, it is odd that this has happened twice now.”  Xisuma mused, half heartedly wondering what about his server tended to attract injured avians.

“Anyway-,” Cub spoke up in his ‘back to business tone’. “X, I don't even know where to start. Did you see anything in his code that could give us some answers as to why, and how, he’s here?”

“Not really, from what I can see, there is just something wrong with it, it's odd. It’s almost like it was handwritten by someone who's never even touched code before.”

“That’s certainly… Odd.”

“Players’ codes aren’t ever handwritten though?” Grian said.

“I know, that’s why it's so weird. I may be able to get more answers by looking deeper but I won’t without his permission.” 

“X, could someone have been messing with his code?”

“It’s a possibility, but I really hope not. Amatures messing with player data can get really dangerous really fast. I’m hoping It just got confused from the abrupt change in world and that the code will heal itself.” 

“So there’s not much more we can do then?”

“I wish there was, but at this moment, no. Especially since he’s, understandably, wary of us.”  

“Maybe we could have G talk to him?” Zedaph suggested.

“Why me?”

“Well, he’s an avian isn’t he? He’s alone in a new place, his hybrid instincts might be calmed with someone of a similar species. I don’t know what exact bird he is but he’s definitely not a bird of prey, you’ll probably be more comforting than False.”

“Okay, I can talk to him-”

“If you’re comfortable with that, Grian,” Xisuma stepped in, making sure he wouldn’t be pushing himself to do something that would be too much like he had the tendency to do.

“I’ll be fine, X,” Grian assured, pushing himself off his bed, slowly but steadily, thankfully being mindful of his injuries. 

“One final thing, X,” Cub interrupted. “His injuries. He was covered in burns and cuts, and I highly doubt they were from mobs. His burns had gunpowder residue in them. Wherever he's from, someone hurt him.”

“Sounds like tnt,” Grian said, the troubled look on his face matching the feeling crowding the space in Xisuma’s chest. He wondered if Grian also reached a conclusion of horrifying possibility. 

Had this kid been in a Game? Were They holding more games? Is that why he was so injured? Why his life system was limited? He hoped that was wrong. That it was simply recency bias on his part. That no kids were being forced to take part in a game like that. Although, he couldn't exactly think of any other reason that this kid would be in this bad of a shape that would make him feel better. 

When he thought about it logically, that wouldn't make a ton of sense, considering he knew the reason his people specifically were targeted for those sadistic games. Still, he couldn’t shake the anxiety that theory instilled in him. 

With nothing more to discuss, Xisuma and Cub walked back to where the faux hospital room was made out of wool blocks, this time with Grian in tow. He really hoped that G could give this lost kid some semblance of safety. 

However, as soon as Grian turned the corner, into the kid's field of vision, Tommy’s eyes widened with panic, his body retreating into the pillows as he shoved himself backward. His hand was reaching on instinct, as if trying to summon something from his inventory, likely a weapon of some kind. When that failed him, he raised his fists into a defensive position, staring down his perceived threat, clearly trying to seem less panicked than he was.

“Stay the fuck away from me!”

False got her bearings about her quicker than the others and stepped in between the two of them acting like a defense as Tommy started incoherently stammering.

The only words X could pick out were “No,” repeated like a plea and “Dreamslayer”, whatever that meant, over and over. Cub tried to reassure him that he was safe, no one was going to hurt him, but like the previous attempts this proved futile. Tommy’s entire focus was locked on Grian, who just looked confused.

“Grian, walk away,” False ordered, her wings flaring to block the line of sight between them. Xisuma, finally breaking from his confused stupor, placed a hand on Grian’s shoulder and led the two of them back to where the rest of the hermits lay, leaving False and Cub to deal with the fallout of- well whatever that was. 

“Do you know what that was about?” X asked.

“I- I have no clue.”
“Does he know you?”

“I mean... His name kinda sounds familiar but I can’t place it. I don’t know why he’s scared of me.” His eyebrows furrowed, staring at the ground, his face twisting from confusion to disturbed, something about that last part troubling him.

“He called you ‘Dreamslayer’, any idea what that means?”

“No, I wish I knew.”

“Wait-” A voice from across the room called, “He called you ‘Dreamslayer’?” Joel got up, making his way around the scattered hermits to where Grian and Xisuma stood.

“That’s what he said. Do you know what that means?” 

“Don’t you remember, Lord Dreamslayer ?”

“No? What does- OH!”

“Now he’s got it.” Joel teased.

“Care to elaborate for the rest of us?” Xisuma interjected.

“Yeah- a few years back, actually it was several years now, anyway- G, Martyn, Timmy, and I were on a team in MCC together, it’s kinda silly but each of us were given ‘Lord Titles’. Grian was named ‘Lord Dreamslayer’ because he pretty much single handedly took down Dream and two of his teammates, Tubbo and Fundy, I think their names were.”

“So… that likely means this kid knows Dream?” Xisuma concluded.

“I mean I would assume so,” Joel agreed, “What was his name again?”

“TommyInnit.”

“Oh yeah, he definitely does, pretty sure he was Dream’s ward.”

“That doesn’t explain why he’s scared of me though,” Grian cut in, his voice quiet.

“Well, G, you know how seriously Dream takes MCC, worst sore loser I’ve ever met. I wouldn’t be surprised if he played up the loss to his players,” Joel offered. 

“You’re telling me Dream, the arrogant speedrunner from MCC, is an admin ? Was Tommy’s admin?” Xisuma asked, having to focus to keep his voice level. 

 “I mean, it’d make sense. All of Dream’s players stopped showing up to MCC a while back, or any events for that matter, and I haven’t seen this Tommy kid since that happened. I’m willing to bet that’s where he came from.”

This new information didn’t exactly comfort X, if anything he felt worse. He didn’t know much about Dream but he didn’t have a great opinion of the guy from what little he’d heard. His stomach turned thinking about the fact he was an admin. Admins have a responsibility to their servers, to not only run but protect. Any admin that would allow one of their players to be in the state that Tommy was, hurt and terrified with injuries new and old, wasn’t deserving of the title. 

Xisuma could only hope this was the worst it was going to get.

Chapter Text

Reader has joined the game.

<Watching Player: TommyInnit>

Tommy was getting a little tired of all the games these people seemed to be playing. He’d been asked a few too many questions for one day, especially by this ‘Cub’ guy, so Prime forbid if he was getting a little snappy. Like genuinely, what business did this guy have wearing a labcoat of all things- especially one that looked like it was from some sort of futuristic laboratory.

“I’m fine, seriously,” Tommy pushed.

“Okay, if you insist,” Cub relented. He’d seemed a bit too concerned about Tommy’s health, and it was starting to make Tommy suspicious of his intentions. “But I’m going to have you take a couple sips of this health pot, just to catch anything we missed. Should be safe if you haven’t had one recently.” 

Tommy felt his stomach drop at the sentence, breath catching in his throat as his eyes caught the sight of a half-full potion bottle.

“No, no thanks, I don’t need it,” Tommy hurried, trying not to let the panic in his voice come through.

‘ Uh oh. Someone’s in trouble!’ The whispers seemed to cackle at him.

Shut up! Tommy shot back mentally, hoping he kept his face still enough that Cub didn’t catch on to the truth of the situation.

“You sure?” Cub asked, seemingly completely unaware of Tommy’s inner battle.

“Yeah I’m fu-!” Maybe being aggressive towards someone holding a potion bottle wasn’t the best idea, Tommy realized mid-sentence. “I’m sure.” 

A wave of relief washed over him as Cub shrugged, putting the potion down. Maybe they didn’t know? Tommy blinked, trying to mentally shake off the notion that they knew he’d drank that potion he found in that chest room. Or perhaps they did know, and were just letting him off the hook? It was confusing. 

Tommy almost didn’t notice as Cub turned to The Admin, who’d been looming a few feet away from the edge of his cot. 

 “In that case, I’ll let you be for a minute. X, can I speak to you?” 

He watched as Cub pulled The Admin around a wool wall, hoping whatever was about to be discussed wouldn’t end in a call for Tommy’s execution. When trying to eavesdrop on the conversation proved useless, he turned to face the only other person in his ‘room’. An avian, whose name was False, if he remembered correctly. She had huge brown wings with golden speckles, and he had no doubts that, if fully extended, her wings would take up the whole room and more. Her blond hair was held back by a pair of flight goggles, the kind that people wore in MCC for the elytra-based games. A green jacket with the sleeves rolled up over a white striped shirt was paired with a pair of brown trousers. Two fingerless leather gloves completed the look. 

He could’ve swore he’d seen her somewhere before.

Perhaps she reminded him of Niki, he thought, if only for her expression. The look in her eyes of a battle-hardened soldier, a juxtaposition to the kind smile she wore, was an odd reminder of home. 

L’manburg, Tommy corrected, it wasn’t his home anymore. Just L’manburg.

‘It’s better to forget that place ,’ the mutters advised. ‘No good digging up what’s already been buried.’

She gave him a sort of half smile, pulling him out of his thoughts. “Sorry ‘bout all this, must be pretty overwhelming for ya.”

“It’s fine? It’s just- lot of questions.”

He adjusted on the cot, trying to find a comfortable way of sitting despite the awkward feeling in the air. He’d rather not be so stretched out, but he wasn’t entirely sure what reaction he’d face if he moved his ankle off the pillow it’d been placed on. He ended up settling for simply crossing his arms. It wasn’t the best position for defense, but there wasn’t much else he could do at the moment.

“Sorry I couldn’t do more for ya wings, they’re in pretty rough shape. You aren’t gonna be able to fly for quite a while.” 

Tommy wasn't sure he'd ever seen someone look so apologetic. It was odd, especially considering there wasn't really much to be sorry over.

“I know the rules.” Confusion tinged his voice. He wasn't entirely sure why she'd even told him.

It was probably pity, he realized suddenly. She felt pity for him… for not being able to fly? Of course he wouldn't be able to fly, it wasn't allowed. Why would she feel the need to apologize for that? Maybe she thought he didn't know the rules yet? Or did she want to make sure he wouldn't break them?

He was getting pretty tired of all these games.

At his assurance that he wouldn’t go breaking any rules, her face shifted oddly. He wasn't entirely sure what he'd done wrong, but clearly he'd fucked up something from the expression False wore. It was silent for a moment, both of them just staring at each other. Tommy, out of a complete loss as to what to say and False, clearly wanting to say something, but pushing nothing past her lips.

‘Can’t go a minute without upsetting someone ,’ the whispers muttered, sounding scarily similar to Dream as they spoke. ‘ Wasn’t exile supposed to fix you? Suppose this is the proof, huh? You’re unfixable .’

He tore his eyes away from False’s face. He’d only known her for a minute, but he didn’t think he’d be able to stomach the disdain in her eyes the second she realized he’d only bring trouble. He’d always hated when people looked at him that way before, and the fact he understood it now didn’t change it one bit.

The sound of footsteps approaching the two caught Tommy’s attention, ripping him suddenly out of his thoughts. He wasn’t sure how much time had really passed while he’d been thinking. 

Now isn’t the time to go all floaty , he reminded himself. Stay focused. Stay aware. He shook his head just enough to clear the fog before looking up to see who was walking over.

The second the three rounded the corner, before Tommy even got a good look at the new face, alarms went off in his brain.

‘Dreamslayer,’ the whispers announced. ‘ Don’t you remember? Wasn’t it brutal?’

And before he knew it, “Stay the fuck away from me!” he screamed. 

A flurry of motion and feathers took over his field of vision as he scrambled backwards, trying to summon a sword, an axe, anything to protect him. He couldn’t see the Dreamslayer anymore, with False in front of him acting as a barrier, but he knew he was there, and that was enough. Tommy remembered the way Tubbo talked about the incident, remembered watching as a spectator- the way Tubbo and Dream were violently struck down with nothing but a sword. He remembered the aftermath, a chat filled with people dubbing the avian ‘Lord Dreamslayer’. He remembered the blood, the return to the SMP, the anger.

Tommy was still talking, he realized suddenly, words spilling out of his mouth as his eyes stayed locked onto where the Dreamslayer once stood, now a wall of brown and gold feathers. There was someone beside him, talking to him. It was hard to tell what they were saying however, their words mixing with the whispers’ cacophony of warnings and reminders. 

Eventually the words seemed to break through.

“Breathe, kid.” It was False, he realized. The person who’d been talking before- Cub, he subconsciously noted- had stopped speaking to him. He’d backed away from where he’d been hovering over Tommy. False had folded her wings back up. She was standing at the end of his bed now, no longer blocking his view- no longer needing to. 

“Deep breaths, you got this, it’s alright,” she was saying. He inhaled, a little too quick, a little too jaggedly. “Just like that, it’s okay. Deep breaths.” 

“Who the fuck was that?” Tommy wasn’t sure why he’d even asked. He already knew. “Why the fuck is he here?”

False hesitated, searching his face before she spoke. “That was Grian. He lives here. He’s not a threat, I promise.”

“Of all the people here,” The other- Cub, chimed in. “He’s definitely not the biggest threat you have to worry about.”

False sent him a glare. “Cub,” she scolded. “Shut up.”

Cub almost looked genuinely threatened, “Sorry, sorry, just tryin’ to lighten the mood a bit!” He followed the apology with a weird kind of laugh, a huffing noise that reminded Tommy a little bit of a cow. 

It caught him a little off guard, a laugh of his own startling him. 

At this, False looked weirdly relieved. “Okay, this has been a super long day so far. You’ve been up for a minute, why don’t we grab you some food?”

“And some water,” Cub chimed in, like a switch had been flipped in his brain, bringing him back to rambling about Tommy’s health. “You are far too dehydrated.  We should also get you something, you could definitely use some electrolytes. Not to mention we should probably check your iron levels, and get you a vitamin k supplement, I mean you lost a lot of blood-”

“Electricite? What?” Tommy butted in, losing track of what Cub was talking about.

“Electrolytes,” Cub corrected. “They help-”

“Cub,” False interrupted. “Save him the medical jargon, just grab him something.”

“I’m not-” He paused, startled, as both of them turned to look at him. “I’m not hungry.”

“You really need to eat something, your body has been through a lot- ”

“Cub!” False interrupted again, voice firmer this time. “Let the kid rest a bit, yeah? He can eat later when he’s feeling up to it. His vitamin levels will survive till then, tell your doctor side to chill.”

Tommy would’ve laughed at Cub’s face if he wasn’t so sure it’d send the guy into another medical spiel. 

And of course, just when he was starting to feel slightly comfortable, no longer so suspicious of these strange people, the Admin came back, followed by a man he didn’t recognize. 

Tommy felt the smile he hadn’t realized he was wearing fall from his face.

‘ Peace can never last, ’ the whispers reminded.

His eyes briefly flit over to the newcomer, a man dressed in bright yellows, with an ‘i’ on his shirt- like the one on the comm he’d found- and purple glasses, before quickly going back to the Admin.

He hated to admit it, because he was a very big man who was never intimidated by anything ever, but the Admin was terrifying. 

Tall and entirely covered in armor, the Admin was the most difficult person to read that Tommy had ever encountered. At least with Dream, Tommy could read his body language, but this guy? He couldn’t figure anything out. It was unnerving.

“Alrighty,” The Admin began after awkwardly clearing his throat. “Considering we don’t have a ton of room available here, we thought it might be best if we get you set up somewhere else. Impulse here, has some extra room in his base that he’s not using that we can move you to.” He paused before adding, “if that’s alright with you that is.”

What? Why was he asking Tommy if that would be alright? Oh, he’s mocking me, he realized. What was with these people and their mind games? First they interrogate him about his health, they act like he doesn’t know the rules and needs to be reminded, and now they’re acting like he has a choice. A choice , in where he lives? As if he was allowed to just tell the Admin ‘no, actually I want to live somewhere else!’. Tommy knew how that would go, and despite previous events , he didn’t have a death wish. And those Prime-damned mutters could fuck off with that nonsense!

Several seconds of silence passed before Tommy realized that the Admin had been expecting a response. Despite the fact that every anti-authority bone in his body was screaming at him to argue, he decided to play it safe and go with the smartest option: agreeing. “That’s fine,” he muttered.

“If you’d like to stay with someone else-,” the Admin began.

And maybe Tommy was playing a little too on the edge, but “I said that’s fine.”

What was this guy playing at? He was obviously trying to get him to slip up so he’d have a reason to punish him. Tommy was no stranger to people goading him into getting himself into trouble, but why was he being so mean about it? Being outright rude is one thing, but mockery? Right on the same level as pity, in Tommy’s eyes. 

“O-kay then, we can get you moved over there. We’ve got a wheelchair we can use to get you there, I think Cub would kill me if I had even suggested having you walk that far.” He then turned his attention to the two who had been with Tommy. “We should get him moved sometime soon, the cyber city is a bit of a walk away and we want to get him sheltered before mob spawning hour hits.” 

“A wheelchair? What’s that?”

Thankfully, it was False that responded this time, giving Tommy an excuse to stop interacting with the Admin. “It’s a mobility aid, basically just a chair with wheels that is used to help people move around when they can’t walk, permanently or temporarily.”  

“So like, how canes do? But for both legs?” He remembered the struggle it was getting around after he’d just lost his own leg. Wilbur’d made him a makeshift cane, which he’d used until Tubbo gifted him his prosthetic. Even afterwards, he found himself reaching for it on rougher days. He wasn’t sure what had happened to it after he’d been exiled, though.

“I- yeah, that works,” False started, breathing an almost-sigh before she continued. “We have some on hand usually just cause this server is filled with accident prone idiots who go stir crazy if they’re stuck inside while healing an injury.” 

“I’ll go grab one,” the Admin announced, disappearing behind the wool wall. Tommy hadn’t noticed how tense his shoulders were until the Admin left. He didn’t try to loosen them, however, knowing that the Admin would inevitably come back.

From there, things moved in a blur. Cub wrapped his ankle- something about ‘stability’?- while the new guy, Impulse, briefly introduced himself. After the Admin returned with the wheelchair (which looked nothing like how Tommy had been imagining), False and Cub helped move him into it, assuring him they didn’t mind when his limbs proved near useless in transferring himself. It wasn’t long before he was being wheeled outside of his makeshift “room” and to the doors. 

Tommy glanced backwards, hoping to catch a glimpse of who all was behind him, but the Admin stood in between him and the rest of the medical bay, blocking his view. He could just barely make out the crowd of people inside. Though he didn’t know for sure, he was pretty positive this had been done intentionally. Why, he didn’t know either, just that the Admin clearly didn’t want him seeing all the injured players at the far end of the room. 

But Tommy knew enough about the aftermath of war to guess what was going on, why these people were hurt. Why the medbay was ‘too full’. 

He quickly turned back around.

To his relief, the Admin did not join them on the journey to the ‘Cybercity’, apparently another player was having ‘issues’ that required him and Cub to stay behind. He didn’t know who ‘Tango’ was but he was grateful to him for pulling the Admin’s attention.

It was a rather long trip and Tommy wasn’t the biggest fan of being pushed around by someone else, but it wasn’t as bad as he thought it might be. False was the one at the chair’s handles, since apparently Impulse wasn’t supposed to be doing anything physically taxing. But if he was given the choice, he probably would have picked False to be the one doing it anyway. He didn’t really know why but False felt safer than anyone else he’d interacted with thus far. 

The scenery was much nicer than he was used to, even ground with intact trees and plantlife all around. There were no creeper holes, stray chests, or one-block-wide cobblestone towers anywhere, overall a much cleaner look than the landscape he’d called home.

And the buildings- Tommy’d never seen such beautiful buildings, at least not any that lasted for any lengthy period of time. Firstly, they passed what looked to be a mansion made out of solid quartz, with some sort of blue block he didn’t recognize, for the roof. How someone even acquired that much quartz he had no idea. Then they went by these tall, futuristic looking walls, but he couldn’t quite see what they contained. In the distance, the peaks of extravagant buildings rested, the care and detail in them visible, even from afar. And Tommy had seen the medbay itself, a sturdy building that looked smooth and inviting from the outside. It took a second glance to even tell where each block ended and the next began. And, he noticed while looking around, all of the buildings- while not necessarily looking finished - looked inhabited, unforgotten, and intentional. 

There were no buildings half-heartedly built and clearly forgotten that he could see. It was almost too clean, in Tommy’s opinion. 

Eventually, the trip came to an end at an enormously tall stone wall, speckled with graffiti and vines. The entrance to what Tommy was told was the ‘Cybercity’ was huge, a massive doorway- that looked like it should have much better security- yet they brought him through like it was a regular Tuesday. The inside of the city, just after entering, was crowded with buildings, tall apartments and shops lining the cobble streets. Tommy honestly expected the road to be bumpier than it was, but despite the cobblestone, he rode mostly smooth across it. Beyond the cluster of buildings, the city opened into an expanse of stone.

“We’re still working on the builds for this space, don’t worry, it’ll eventually get filled!” Impulse laughed. “Bdubs and I each started in a corner and are working our way inwards, we should theoretically meet in the middle.”

“Wait, you and who?” Tommy asked, flabbergasted. “Are you trying to tell me that all this was built by two people?”

“Yeah!” He replied, a proud smile on his face. “The part we just came through was pretty much entirely Bdubs! I’ve walked around a bit and added a couple things, just to get a sense of his building style, but that was all him back there!”

Tommy opened his mouth to speak, but the words were lost on him. No way one man built all that .

“This corner,” Impulse began as they got closer to the tall, industrial looking buildings. “Is my side of the city so far. This building was actually where we found you.”

As Impulse spoke, they came to a large iron vault door- or at least Tommy could only assume it was a vault door. It was large, heavy duty, and circular, so Tommy was willing to bet on it being some kind of vault door. 

Though, there was no handle.

“Don’t tell anyone I told you both this, but to get in you have to tip your hat.” Impulse whispered dramatically. “Like this!” 

Tommy watched in awe as Impulse grabbed a helmet from his inventory and tipped it, the sound of gears turning and locks clicking emanating from the door as it pulled itself apart and into the wall to form a square opening..

Tommy did not, and he would like to emphasize that, did not gasp at the sight. He definitely did not find himself wanting to ask the man how in the world he’d done that, nor did he immediately get the urge to show Tubbo. Because he is a very big man who has moved on from his old life. 

The inside of Impulse’s base brought Tommy an uncomfortable level of familiarity. He didn’t remember much from his last time in the room, but what he did remember made him nervous to be around the owner of the room. Hopefully he didn’t mind the mess Tommy’d made, or the bandages and potion he’d wasted. A stray feather on the strange stone flooring made him wince. He really hoped he didn’t make too much of a mess.

He really hoped that if he did, False would step in when Impulse remembered who’d made the mess.

Though, he really didn’t want False to get hurt. That’d be selfish of him, to make her take on his consequences.

See, exile taught me something. Tommy snarked at the mutters. I learned. 

“Oh,” Impulse voiced when he walked in. 

And here it comes.

“Someone must’ve cleaned up my base for me, the floor’s spotless. Minus a couple feathers, but that’s easy work. I’ll have to thank them.”

Huh?

Someone cleaned up Tommy’s mess? 

Shit, Tommy realized. Now I owe somebody I don’t know a favor for that.

“Okay, first things first,” Impulse declared. “We need to get you a room put together and, no offense, but get you a shower.” 

The thought of taking an actual, real shower again made Tommy weirdly happy. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had that. He’d had the ocean in exile, that river nearby in Pogtopia, another river in L’manburg’s revolutionary period, but those were rather inconvenient on the best of days. There was a brief period during the election where he had access to an actual bathtub, though. He’d never felt so rich.

They lead him up a short flight of stairs to a tiled bathroom. He was handed a towel and a set of clothes that he wasn’t entirely sure when Impulse had grabbed, only that they were some of Impulse’s. 

“We’ll work on getting you some better fitting clothes tomorrow, hopefully these work for now. Whatever soap I have in there you can use, I’m not picky about it. Just shout when you’re done. We’re going to go set up your room, it’s just down this hall here. Once you're all set we’ll go downstairs, sound alright?”

Tommy found himself nodding before entering the bathroom, closing the door surprisingly gently behind him. He set the towel and clothes on the sink’s counter, unfortunately coming face to face with a large mirror.

Holy Prime. Tommy’s eyes widened as he stared at his reflection. For a second he thought he’d seen Wilbur, the flash of brown hair and a gaunt face making him do a double take. Woah. I look like shit. 

Tommy leaned closer to the mirror, getting a better view of the downright ugly state he was in. Matted, brown with grime hair fell into his eyes, much longer than he remembered it being. He pulled the front pieces back, looking at the array of scars and scrapes painting his face. A rather large bruise snaked over his nose and his left eye, which looked a much duller blue than he was used to, with bags like bruises underneath. His cheeks looked almost sunken and his nose was more crooked than it had been before. He looked different, worse than he’d looked in Pogtopia.

He pulled himself sharply away from the mirror before his mind could spiral farther at the view of himself, afraid he’d get stuck there, staring at a reflection he could hardly recognize. 

He turned the water onto the warmest setting he could, and tried to forget that haunted look he’d seen in the mirror. He left his clothes in a pile on the ground, his compass laid carefully on the top of it. He’d kept it safely tucked underneath his shirt, ever since that day he’d almost thrown it into lava. He didn’t really trust himself to keep it safe in his inventory after that, so he’d tucked it underneath his shirt- thankfully Ghostbur had put it on a chain before giving it to him. He watched the needle spin for an unknown amount of time, until he could feel the spinning in his head too, and hastily covered the glass with one of his shirt sleeves. Once the compass was safe- and out of sight- he climbed into the shower.

By the time he felt clean- truly, genuinely clean, the mirror had fogged up and his skin was an angry red. He hadn’t realized how uncomfortable all that grime had made him until it was washed away. 

He dried off as best he could and put on the clothes Impulse had lended him, habitually pulling the compass’s chain back over his head and tucking it beneath the tee-shirt, doing his best not to look too long at the Your Tubbo engraving on the back of it. His wings were still mostly soaked, but he didn’t really have the energy to keep patting them with the towel. Strangely enough, the shirt Impulse had given him had a giant hole in the back, seemingly for his wings. It looked almost like it was done in a couple seconds, and with kitchen scissors no less. Tommy did not feel grateful for it, one bit. It took away his ability to hide his wings beneath his shirt like he normally would have, instead leaving them open and vulnerable. It felt wrong .

But all the other avians had their wings out? Maybe it was some sort of rule they had here. Tommy guessed. To know who exactly would be a flight risk.

Grabbing all of his items off the ground, he took a deep breath, and opened the door. Impulse was waiting just outside. He smiled, said nothing, and led him back downstairs, deeper into the basement of the build, not before directing him to a laundry basket to place his used towels and clothes into. Tommy really hoped he’d be getting his clothes back eventually. 

They entered a cozy looking living room that was decorated with bright yellows and purples like the ones Impulse wore. In the middle sat some cushy seats that were ornamented with what looked to be handcrafted pillows and blankets. False was waiting for them, resting on the love seat, typing on her comm with her feet propped up on the coffee table.

“Make yourself comfy,” Impulse said. “We can rest down here for a bit before it gets too late.”

With the confirmation that he was allowed, Tommy sat at the right end of the couch, curled up in the corner of it, having to sit a bit weirdly due to his left wings’ annoying aching. 

Impulse joined him on the big couch, however he sat on the furthest left end, leaving a comfortable amount of space between them; which Tommy was internally very grateful for.

“You feel up to eating something now?” False asked, after they sat for a bit, her tone light. 

To his surprise, the idea of food didn’t sound unbearable now that False had suggested it. “A little bit, maybe?” 

“Okay, we can get you something, Impulse you have anything in your base?”

“Uh, nothing fresh, haven’t had any time to cook since-,” He made a weird pause that Tommy couldn’t quite figure out the meaning behind. “Well I don’t really have anything. Some stale bread maybe?”

“That’s alright,” She said, standing up from the couch and grabbing her jacket. “I can run out to the shopping district and grab something.” 

What, no, she couldn’t just leave him here! He hardly knew Impulse (he ignored that he hardly knew False either), besides, she’d protected him before- against the Dreamslayer and the Admin, even against Cub! What if something tries to hurt him and she’s not here? He knows he’s not in a good position to fight, but she’d already proven that she’d defend him. He couldn’t guarantee that from Impulse! Sure, he’d found him, but he’d also brought the Admin directly to him, knowing that Tommy wasn’t supposed to be there. 

He was defenseless on his own! He needed Dre False to stay!

False seemed to notice his panic and sat on the floor in front of him, matching his height. She took audibly deep breaths, not stopping until Tommy’s breathing matched her own. “Okay…” She started carefully, like she was talking to a spooked animal. “It’s okay, I can call someone and have them bring us some food instead, is that okay?” 

Tommy took several relieved breaths, feeling the tightness in his chest loosen, it’s okay, she's not leaving.

‘Yet,’ those damned whispers mocked.

“Okay, that works.” He got out eventually.

False shared a look with Impulse, which Tommy tried not to read too much into before moving back up to the couch and pulling out her comm. “I’ll message Joe then, he’s most likely still up and moving about.” 

Not too much later- how much time actually passed Tommy had no clue- footsteps could be heard coming down the stairs, followed by an unrecognizable voice. He almost panicked at the sound of an intruder but False seemed to know who it was so he calmed down. 

“Hey ya’ll,” The person greeted, walking in with a canvas bag slung over his shoulder, which he then set on the coffee table.

“Hey Joe,” Impulse responded. “How you doing?”

“I’m doing alright,” The person- Joe, answered, opening the bag and laying out dishes of food and travel cups. “Glad ya messaged me when you did, False. Was just about to leave the shopping district.”

“Glad you were still up, and thank you.”

“Ah no problem, I got some hot cocoa and tea from Cleo’s cafe and some carrots, chicken, potatoes, fish and some sweet berries from Xb’s ridiculously overpriced shop- Don’t tell him I said that.” 

Tommy’s eyes widened at the sheer amount of food that was laid out in front of him. He’d never seen this much food- especially of this quality- in one place before, how did they have this much food to spare? Surely they wouldn’t have given him something from their main reserves. This was a crazy amount of surplus, they must take their farms very seriously.

“I hope you like something that’s here,” Joe said and it took Tommy a moment to realize that was directed at him. “Wasn’t really sure what’d you like so just take whatever ya do.” 

Tommy muttered a quiet, “Okay,” but couldn’t get himself to move even as False and Impulse grabbed some food. This was a lot . “I can’t pay you for this,” He said eventually, because well he didn’t have any way of paying him back and well he really didn’t want to be in someone else’s debt right now. 

Joe’s face changed slightly at his words, his expression flickering to something Tommy couldn’t quite read, sad maybe? But that didn’t make much sense. Either way, it was gone from his face too quick for him to process it much, going back to his carefree smile he had on before.

“Don’t worry about it, you don’t have to pay me back anything, it's no big deal.”

This was not a big deal? 

“But, you said it was overpriced?” Tommy asked, grasping at straws trying to understand what this guy could possibly be thinking. “And- hot cocoa? That’s like- a fucking luxury, what? You can’t just be giving this to me.”

The room paused, like the other three didn’t know how to respond to that. 

Joe found his voice before the others, “It’s really no big deal,” He said, clearly trying to keep his voice light, “It’s nothing we’ll suffer without I promise.”

“But, I thought you were in a war, or- just after, like-? I mean, all those injured players-! These can’t really be what you lot consider rations .”

“Oh- you think-” False cut in, “No no no, our players aren’t injured from a war. We aren’t suffering for rations, I promise. They’re injured from, well, something else- something a bit more complicated. ” 

“Like a game?” Tommy blinked confusedly at his own words, he had no idea where that came from.

Judging by their reactions, the others knew something he didn’t.

Impulse inhaled sharply next to him, his breath almost pained. Joe’s expression changed again, this time to something that could be described as both confused and calculating. His eyes stared at Tommy and it felt like he was looking directly into his soul. Tommy shifted uncomfortably, glancing over at False for help but she was also looking at him weirdly. He felt his heart drop as he realized he’d upset her. 

“I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-” He cut off as he realized he didn’t know what to apologize for. He didn’t even understand why or what he’d said in the first place. 

“It’s okay,” False assured, but her cautious voice didn’t do much to comfort him. “Do you- where did you get that from?” 

“I- I don’t know, I’m sorry, I have no idea- I just said it! I don’t know-!” 

“Hey, it's alright,” She assured again, this time her voice more confident. “We can talk more about this another time if we need to, let's just eat for now, it's okay.” 

Not wanting to upset her more than he already had, he started to reach for the potatoes, but stopped short, flashes of ‘meals’ in Pogtopia running rampant in his head. He blinked and shook his head, trying to will the images of a dark ravine and plain baked potatoes away, before reaching with more certainty towards the carrots. Almost as an afterthought, he grabbed some chicken as well. 

From there they ate in mostly silence, which was probably best as it didn’t give Tommy more opportunities to mess up while talking. At some point Joe left, claiming he had someone he needed to speak to before the night ended. Eventually Tommy found himself growing tired, sinking deeper and deeper into the cushions as his body caught up with all the energy he’d expended throughout the day. Impulse noticed this and pulled up a blanket to lay across him. But before he could protest the action, his eyelids drooped closed, his body and mind succumbing to sleep.

Chapter Text

Reader has joined the game.

<Watching Player: Docm77>

“How are you doing?” It's a loaded question, he knows. He’s just hoping to get any kind of answer out of the man in front of him. Anything other than this blank, almost lost, expression Ren’s been sporting. He’s met with a mere shrug, nothing more and nothing less. Doc tried to ignore the pang of sorrow at the gesture. He’d been coming to sit with him multiple times over the past several days, trying to slowly coax Ren back to his normal self but to no avail. He’d received nothing but a few empty, robotic responses and small shrugs. It was strange, Doc found himself wishing Ren would cry, or yell, throw a fit, just something , anything that proved he was still a sentient being; that he still had a soul and hadn’t left it in the last game. 

But he simply stared. His eyes looking, longing, trying to find his missing piece, his other half. Doc was there, prepared to fill that spot, but he knew, no matter how much it pained him, he wasn’t the right shape to complete Ren's puzzle. That piece was the shape of a man Doc knew, only by name and the hole his absence left, an ache Doc had no way of assuaging. It left Doc wondering if he himself was even still a part of the picture.

But he couldn’t dwell on that. He wouldn’t dwell on that, not while there were still open wounds to heal. Not while the infirmary remained in use, filled with a bunch of players who’d rather be anywhere else but still hadn’t acclimated back to their home.

Still, Doc wanted to find him, the other half of his other half, Ren's Hand . If only to give Ren some sense of peace, of well being. Even if that meant he’d have to accept another presence within their relationship, even if that meant he’d no longer be a part of it. The thought nearly made him sick, but he’d survive it, he’d endure, if only to get some life back in Ren's face. 

He was pulled out of his thoughts by the sound of the medbay doors opening, a welcome reprieve. In walked a small group of people, Xisuma, False, and Wels. Cub peeked his head out of the office area to greet them, before joining the larger group in the back half of the medbay. 

“-Well we need to send someone ,” X responded to something False had said. “Can’t send you or Cub, and the only person who has the medical experience-”

Doc cut in before Xisuma could finish. “Send who for what?”

“Tommy, he needs an updated medical screening. We’re trying to figure out who to send for it. We can’t send False- apparently the kid’s showing some pretty bad signs of codependency- and he doesn’t like Cub, so we aren’t sure who to send.” 

“What about Doc?” Grian piped up from a cot in the corner of the room, leaning around where Mumbo was sitting in order to see the members of the discussion. “He’s like the medical expert on our server. Why not send him?” 

“I thought we were trying not to scare this kid,” Scar quipped. 

“Are we sure Doc will scare him though?” Bdubs asked from his own cot. 

“I mean,” Grian started. “He was scared of me and X, so who knows?”

“Yeah, and he likes False- who’s objectively the scariest person here!” Wels added. 

“Plus Doc’s all fluffy- oh! And he’s got that eye-scanner thingy!” Bdubs shouted, sitting up a little too quickly, prompting Doc to silently scold him back into a relaxed position with a Look. “And he can do that,” He added, obediently laying back down.

“Probably a good idea then,” Xisuma agreed. “Doc, how do you feel about going and doing a health screening for the kid?”

Doc looked at Ren for a second, quickly realizing that whether or not he stayed would make little difference. “Yeah, I can do that.”

“Alright, let me grab the chart I made up for him,” Cub said, standing from where he’d been sitting at the end of Scar’s bed. “Should give you a good idea of where to start.”

Doc watched as Cub rounded the corner into the medbay’s ‘office’ room, slightly squeezing Ren’s hand before letting go and making his way over to where Xisuma stood. 

“Is there anything you want to know before you do the screening, Doc?” X asked, motioning for Doc and False to follow him further from the large group in the back of the medbay.

Doc nodded, immediately following him.

“So, what did you mean by ‘he’s showing signs of codependency’?” Doc asked, once it was just him, False and X at the front of the med bay. 

“Well, he imprinted on me really quickly,” False started, her eyebrows furrowed.  “Which would have been fine- I’d love to be a safe space for the kid, but he doesn’t seem to care about his safety when I’m around. He looks at me before reacting or answering anything, almost like he’s searching for permission . He tries to do what he thinks I want, or what will make me happy.”

“Impulse and False mentioned that the kid nearly had a full blown panic attack at the thought of her running out for an errand the night she’d met him,” Xisuma added.  “And for a kid that is scared of everyone here-”

“It’s odd that he immediately clinged to her for safety,” Doc finished for him.

False nodded, “And, I will help take care of him- especially cause I don’t want him thinking I just abandoned him- but I think it’s best if we have him interact with more people to hopefully stop this from escalating.”

“That is probably best, I think we also need to keep an ear out for any people from his old server he talks about. Codependent behaviors don’t just appear out of thin air, this had to have been brewing elsewhere.”

“Okay,” Cub interrupted, coming out of the office with a thin manilla folder. “This is everything we’ve got in terms of his health and background, just everything that we’ve been able to piece together this past week.”

He handed the folder over to Doc, who opened it nearly as soon as it hit his hands. “This- isn’t very much.”

“The kid’s been pretty tight-lipped to be entirely honest. What he has said, he seems to think is normal, but I think he’s realized from our reactions that most of it isn’t. He hasn’t really said anything about his old server since four days ago.”

Doc flipped through the two pages, scanning every note and entry on each side.

On the back of the first paper, there was an entry simply labelled “I don’t know how to title this, it’s just probably important”, a small huff of laughter leaving his mouth as he read the words. It had a small typed section underneath: “Seems to know about the Games, however does not seem aware of why or what they are. Panicked upon questioning.” 

Well that's certainly… Weird.

On the second paper, there was a hastily scribbled note at the bottom that read: “knows a concerning amount about the aftermath of war- maybe comes from an anarchy server???” 

There were several other notes, both typed and scribbled, that only served to make Doc more confused, and even more concerned, than the ones before them. He flipped the two pages back and forth, then closed the folder, pinching the bridge of his nose, trying not to regret agreeing to do this. 

“And this is just what he’s shared in the three days before he stopped talking about this stuff? This is everything we know so far ?”

He’d hardly scratched the surface, but Doc wasn’t sure how much farther he really wanted to dig into this kid’s history. How could this be only the beginning ? 

Xisuma just offered him an awkward “Good luck!,” and a derpy smile that didn’t make him feel better in the slightest. “Oh, I almost forgot! Here-!” He added before Doc could walk away, reaching into his inventory and pulling out a brand new communicator. “I got this set up, all he’s gotta do is power it on, everything else has been enabled already, and it should -  hypothetically- latch onto his code as soon as he does.” 

“Why hypothetically?” 

“Cause I still haven’t figured out what in the void is going on with his code. It took ages just for me to assign the comm to him. It acts weird whenever I try to view it, even surface level, like it’s hiding itself from me. Either way, the comm should work . Message me if it doesn’t.” 

Now his code’s messed up too? Wonderful. Doc couldn’t wait to see this kid in person, surely it couldn’t get any worse than this. Surely, Doc hoped. Surely . 

“Well, if that’s everything, I’ll be headed that way,” he said in lieu of a goodbye. 

“I’ll message Impulse and let him know we’re sending you over,” X replied. 

Doc nodded, slipped the manilla folder into his inventory, and walked out of the medical bay. 

The trip to the Cybercity wasn't necessarily a long one, however, despite the fact Doc was using an elytra, it felt like it had taken forever. 

He landed inside the graffiti’d walls, just outside of the warehouse-looking build that he'd been made aware was Impulse's main base at the moment. Pulling out his comm, he sent Impulse a quick message to let him know that he'd arrived. And then, after a moment of staring in confusion at the side of the building-

You whisper to ImpulseSV : How do you get in???

Impulse whispered to you: tip your hat :D

Raising an eyebrow at the response, Doc grabbed his helmet from his inventory, placing it on his head for a moment before removing it. The circular portion of the wall opened from the middle, gears and levers clicking and turning to pull apart the fragments of the door, creating a large opening that he quickly stepped through.

The inside of Impulse’s base was open, his mailbox in the left corner next to a couple of workbenches, with a coatrack by the door. On the right side, a carpet led to an iron door, supposedly where the building’s stairs would be found. The back of the room was all storage, it appeared, walls of chests with an elder guardian statue in the center. The main room was empty, so Doc elected to try the only door. 

It was stairs, as he’d assumed, however they went both up and down, and he wasn’t entirely sure which to try first. A ding from his comm saved him the guessing game, however. 

Impulse whispered to you: we’re downstairs!

Downstairs was a rather large living room, filled with couches and armchairs, covered in pillows and blankets. If Doc didn’t know better about who lived here, he’d assume it was one of the nest-making hermits. On a chair facing the rest of the room, sat a blond teenager curled up in a blanket. Despite the rather comfy look of the kid’s situation, he was entirely tensed up, and Doc had no doubt that he was ready to bolt at the slightest wrong motion. Impulse, who’d been laying on a couch with his legs across Zed’s lap, stood up as Doc stepped off the last stair. 

“Hey Doc!” he greeted, before turning towards the kid on the chair. “Tommy, this is Doc, he’s the one we were telling you about earlier. Doc, this is Tommy!”

“I’m here to do a health eval,” he started. “But I’m sure they already told you that.” 

A single nod was all he got in reply. The kid was avoiding eye contact, a strangely sad look crossing his face whenever he did look at Doc.

“Do you want to do the eval here, or somewhere else?” 

Tommy looked over at Impulse and Zed, seemingly searching for an answer from them as to what to say. When they provided no indication of what answer he should give, Tommy shifted in his seat, looking more uncomfortable than before.

“You can stay here with us or go upstairs if you’d like, Tommy, whatever makes you most comfortable,” Zed told him.

In lieu of a reply, the kid shrugged off the blankets covering him, standing stiffly and going around Doc up the stairs. After a moment of no movement from Doc, he called out from the top.

“What are you waiting for, Big Man? Let's get this over with.” 

As he passed to follow the kid upstairs, Zed gave him a thumbs up and a goofy smile not unlike the one X had given him earlier. It didn’t exactly fill him with confidence. 

At the top of the second flight of stairs, the kid stood waiting for him. Almost immediately after Doc stepped onto the flat floor, the kid was off again, down the hall and into a room, supposedly the one he’d been staying in. 

The inside of the room was practically barren; a lone bed with a single pillow and blanket was pushed into the far corner, with a large pile of bedding bunched up next to it on the floor. On the opposite wall there was an open closet door, a dresser and two shirts on hangers visible from inside it. Tommy was already sitting on the bed, leaving Doc to flip on the light switch as he came in. The light wasn’t necessary for his mechanical eye, but it sure did help.

It was then Doc spotted what looked, from a distance, like an iron rod attached to the knee of his right leg. And oh void how was this kid walking on this thing? The sorry excuse for a prosthetic didn’t look like it should support his weight, let alone allow him free movement whatsoever. Doc couldn’t even imagine the kind of pain this was causing him. It was connected to what was left of his knee cap with a simple metal cuff that had to be incredibly uncomfortable especially since he didn’t have any sort of sleeve. The main part of the metal leg was very dented and far too thin to properly support his weight. At the bottom was a metal block that was apparently meant to be the foot but the shoddy shape of it had no way of providing any sort of balance. Not to mention it looked like he’d been wearing it for quite some time, if the way it seemed to have eroded was any indication.

“Fuck are you staring at, huh?” the kid barked when he noticed Doc looking at his prosthetic. “If you’re so curious, ask, don’t just fucking stand there like you’ve been shot in the fucking face.”

Weirdly enough, having the kid yell at him was sort of relieving. “How long have you been using a prosthetic?” 

The expression on Tommy’s face flitted through several different emotions before settling on faint confusion with a dash of defensiveness. 

“Why’s it matter?” 

Deciding not to call out what he’s pretty sure was a copout, Doc made a mental note to fix Tommy’s prosthetic situation before changing the subject. “Just curious, anyway, how's that wing been healing? Have you been dealing with any pain?” 

“It’s fine.” Tommy glanced away and curled his wings further behind him as he spoke, the brace somewhat restricting the left’s movement. His eyes flit back to Doc’s face, catching the Look before he quickly changed his answer. “Okay, maybe it might be a bit sore.” 

“I appreciate the honesty,” Doc responded, somewhat amused; Tommy was not the first difficult patient he’d dealt with and by no means was the worst. He’d spent the last week and a half helping heal thirteen incredibly stubborn Hermits, Tommy’s reluctance and snark was hardly an inconvenience. “Mind if I take a look?” 

He asked carefully, knowing that, normally, asking to see the injured wings of an avian you didn’t know well would result in a rather painful experience. This kid, however, was not normal and this was becoming more and more clear the more he interacted with him. Tommy simply stretched out the wing, as far as he could with the brace still on it. He kept a close eye on Doc’s movements, but seemed otherwise fine to let someone he didn’t know handle his wing.

It was honestly rather concerning, especially when he remembered the way the feathers had been cut. He’d expected the sight, but actually seeing the clipped wings was worse than just reading about them in his file. Clearly this kid had very little regard for his own safety, and Doc’s concern for how the clipping even happened only grew.

Doc carefully examined the braced wing, using his eye to look at the progress of his broken bones beneath the splint. 

Tommy was anxiously fidgeting with his hands, quiet for a moment before asking, “So, where's False?”

Having expected the question, Doc responded carefully. “She's helping out at the medbay for a bit. She said she’ll be back later.”

His nervous demeanor only heighted.

“When will that be?” 

“I'm not sure, probably some time later today.” 

Tommy did Not look happy with that answer, twin expressions of despair and gratitude fighting each other on his face. 

The despair seemed to win out after a moment. “Did I do something wrong?” His voice dropped to a whisper. “Is she mad at me?”

Doc took a breath, taking the time to look Tommy in the eye to hopefully get his sincerity across, “No, kid, she’s not mad, and you didn’t do anything wrong. She’s just busy, promise.”

He didn’t look convinced exactly but to Doc’s relief he dropped the subject. (Though he made another mental note to call False over as soon as he finished the screening).  

“Your wing’s healing well, at least. Should be able to take the brace off in a week or two if we give you a health potion. Cub mentioned you’d denied one earlier, how do you feel about taking one now?”

Immediate panic took over the kid’s face as his eyes flitted back and forth across Doc’s face, seemingly searching for something in his expression, before flickering away. He looked almost paranoid as he answered. “I’m good, thanks.”

It was then Doc decided to do a brief look into his medical history via his cybernetic eye. It couldn’t give him too much but his scanners picked up a few things. like his hybrid species: An avian, specifically a Release Dove. That’s certainly interesting , avian players and hybrids in general aren’t typically any form of purely domesticated animals. Looking a bit further he noticed what he was initially checking for, markings on his code indicative of an extensive use of potions. Considering he was from a limited life system and their theory of him being from an anarchy server this unfortunately made sense. And it could explain his hesitancy around them.

Another thing Doc couldn't help but notice: the kid’s eyes kept flitting to the corner of the room. Odd behavior considering, at least in Doc's view, there was nothing there.

“Looking at something?” He inquired, trying to keep his tone curious, casual.

Tommy’s eyes widened, moving panicked back to in front of him. “No!” He answered a little too quickly for Doc to be convinced it was the truth. 

“Alright, well, in that case it will probably be two or three weeks before the brace can come off. It’ll keep healing after that point, but we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it. For now, let’s focus on what we can do today.”

Doc quickly ran through the rest of his injuries, checking his movement in his flesh ankle and rebandaging the worst of his burns, talking as he did so.

“You know, the others were convinced you'd be scared of me. I've been told I can be a bit intimidating.” 

Tommy’s lip quirked up a bit, a shadow of a smile. It wasn't much, but it was progress. “Nah, you remind me of someone.”

“In a good way, I hope?”

Tommy nodded, “Yeah, it’s a good thing. You remind me of my best f-” he cut himself off, that barely a smile falling from his face like it was never there. “Uh, just someone I knew once.” 

Unsure of how to respond to that, Doc let the conversation stop while he worked.

When he was finally done, something he and seemingly Tommy were both relieved by, he reached into his inventory to grab the new comm.

“What’s this?”

“It’s your comm, Xisuma got it set up for you.”

Tommy looked a bit suspicious at the mention of their admin, but the excitement that was clear on his face won over and he carefully took it, holding the comm like it was made of gold.

“It’s mine? Like, actually mine? You’re not going to take it back?” 

Doc smiled and sat on the bed next to him, “Yup, all yours. Here, just press this to power it on and all your stats will be synced.” 

The comm whirred to life in Tommy’s hands, his face lighting up like it was the screen. He clicked every button available to him, scrolling through all of his stats and the general chat, completely enamoured with the device. 

While Tommy familiarized himself with it, Doc checked his own pinging comm.

Falsesymmetry whispers to you: Hey, I’m on my way back. Ask Tommy what he wants to eat from the shopping district. 

You whisper to Falsesymmetry: On it

“Hey, Tom, False is wondering what you’d like to eat.” 

He looked up from his comm, furrowing his eyebrows, thinking for a moment. “She brought this stew a couple nights ago, can you ask her if there’s any more?”

“Of course.”

You whisper to Falsesymmetry: He wants whatever stew you brought him a few nights ago. And grab some bread and hot cocoa too. 

Falsesymmetry whispers to you: Alrighty, be there in a bit!

“Want to go join Impulse and Zed while we wait for her?”

“Sure,” He nodded, standing up, carefully clipping his comm to the waistband of his pants before leading them downstairs to the comfort of the living room.

Chapter Text

Reader has joined the game

<Watching Player: TommyInnit>

“We normally do meetings like this weekly, but we’ve been a bit, ah, preoccupied.” 

Certainly a way to describe it, Tommy thought to himself, watching the way Impulse fidgeted. Surely they’d realize they can give up on trying to sugar-coat it?

“So I assume I’m staying here?” He reminded himself that they weren’t abandoning him, that they were quite literally telling him where they were going and what they were doing. They weren’t leaving, not really. They’d be back. 

After all, this was their base he was staying in. They wouldn’t just leave it. 

“Well, if you’d like to come with, I’m sure the rest of the hermits would be fine with that,” Impulse answered. “But you can stay with Bdubs if you’d prefer that.”

“He won’t get in trouble for missing the meeting, will he?” 

“Not at all, besides, I can catch him up on it or even call him if need be.”

“Okay,” Tommy paused for a moment, thinking over his decision. He knows that they’re very likely going to be talking about him at this meeting, and he’d prefer to be there- if only to defend himself against whatever they decide, but the entire server will be there. At least, everyone minus Bdubs. And he’s not entirely sure exactly how many people are even on the server, but he knows it’s a lot. Plus, that means the Admin will be there, and he’d rather not screw up directly in front of the Admin. “I can stay here.”

Impulse looked weirdly relieved at his decision, “Alrighty then, I should get going. Have fun building with Bdubs, and feel free to use anything in my storage room, that thing gets raided like everyday by Gem and G anyway. Ill see you in a bit!” 

Tommy decidedly ignored the several items in his inventory that he’d already smuggled out of the chests. What Impulse didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. 

He watched the man walk up the staircase from the living area, his comm pinging almost as soon as the other disappeared from view.

Xisumavoid: Impulse you on your way?

ImpulseSV: Yup, I’ll be there in a minute!

Tommy really hoped Impulse wasn’t going to get in trouble for being late.

“Well,” Bdubs exclaimed, the suddenness of it causing Tommy to jump slightly. “Why don’t we go to my side of the Cybercity, eh?”

Despite trying not to show it, Tommy was pretty sure his excitement shined through at the suggestion. He’d been allowed to explore the server, he was pretty sure, but he didn’t quite know where the fence was- so to speak, so he’d been mostly just following the others around. And ignoring the dog comparisons the whispers kept using. But mostly just following the others. There were times he was by himself, but that was mainly at night, when everyone was sleeping, so he’d gotten to know Impulse and Bdubs relatively well. And not to mention all the hermits who hung around with them too- False, Joe, Zed, and even this guy named Skizz, who he’d met several days ago and had seen in and around a lot since then.

But he liked Bdubs. He was loud, friendly. It was… nice. 

Plus he was really good at building, and he let Tommy run around in his builds whenever he wanted to. Well, he tried to keep Tommy from actually running while his ankle was healing, but after a bit of convincing (and if anyone tries to imply that it was begging, he Will find them) Bdubs gave up on that endeavor, allowing Tommy to climb around the Cybercity to his heart's content.

The walk over to Bdubs’ side didn’t take very long, with Tommy practically running circles around Bdubs the entire way. He still got tired easily, like he did when he was in Ex- on the beach, but it was starting to get a little better in the two or so weeks he’d been there. He supposed it had something to do with the whole ‘being able to sleep and eat whenever he wanted to’ thing. Or at least, that’s what they’d been assuring him throughout his stay. He wasn’t quite sure how much he believed them, but no one had gotten upset at him for anything yet. So while he was waiting for the other shoe to drop, he figured he might as well take advantage of the kindness that they’d been offering.

And they were nice. Really nice. It was… odd. A lot of their behaviour towards him was. They’d given him quite a bit of things in his stay- his own room, his own bed, way too much food, and even several of his own new sets of clothing- all made by a hermit he hadn’t even met yet. Cleo, he thinks they called her. It was weird, how many things they just gave him. Didn’t make him work for it or pay them back or anything, they didn’t even ever take any of it away from him. No matter what rules he broke (not that he was trying to break many). He was trying really hard not to think about the amount of favors he owed because of them. It wasn’t working very well. 

Tommy was pulled out of his own thoughts as they reached the edge of the buildings. Normally, Bdubs sort of let him loose once they got into the city, but it seemed that something was different today, as Bdubs beckoned him over to a line of fences within the city. 

“Here, I sectioned off this area for you, you can build whatever you’d like here! I have a ton of materials in these chests, take whatever you’d like, I can always get more.” 

Oh, Tommy thought to himself. That’s new.  

“Okay.” He looked through the chests for a second, taking in all the materials. “Are you sure? Just like, anything?”

“Yep! Anything you want to build, don’t worry about making it in theme with the city, just whatever you want to make!” Bdubs looked up from where he’d been digging in another chest, in order to look at Tommy as he continued speaking. “And you don’t have to build anything if you don’t want to, just thought you might enjoy being able to.” He had that stupid giant grin on his face as he spoke, the one that made Tommy uneasy when he first met him, but had come to appreciate as he’d gotten to know him better.

Tommy nodded, still unsure about the whole ‘building whatever he wanted to’ thing. He wasn’t even sure if he wanted to build something here. He wasn’t the best builder either, despite his self-proclaimed skill at making cobblestone towers. Wouldn’t he just mess up the Cybercity? Although, Bdubs had seemed really eager to show him the area he’d sectioned off, maybe he was supposed to build something? Would Bdubs be angry if he didn’t? He didn’t even know what to build!

Tommy stayed in front of the chests, trying to think of something as Bdubs grabbed what he needed and moved to a building behind them. It was probably a good idea, Tommy realized, to stay sitting where he was for the moment, because he’d sort of been running on the way over, and Prime, he was tired. Good opportunity to figure out what to build, however. Besides, he had a few hours. 

Y’know what, Tommy decided. I’ll just make something. If I hate it, I can tear it down later.

So Tommy grabbed a stack of oak, stone, and a few other blocks, and got to work. 

In the end, he’d created a small garden, with a wishing well in the center. Walls of green- leaves, plants, and flowers- outlined the section he’d been given, hiding the inside from onlookers. A small cobblestone path led into the garden from two oak doors, around the well and back to the front. On each side, just off the cobblestone path, he’d placed an oak bench, facing the well in the middle. He almost wished he had a jukebox to put next to them, but he didn’t quite have the courage to ask for something like that yet. 

He stood in the garden, watching the water in the well ripple, when he got the idea. In his inventory, the few items he’d borrowed from Impulse sat. A few glass bottles, some blaze rods, and a couple spider eyes. It wasn’t everything, but it was a start, and he did need somewhere to store them while he gathered everything else. And Bdubs said he could build anything. Surely they wouldn’t get upset if he made a bunker underneath the garden? Surely it wouldn’t hurt to not tell them about it. Besides, if no one knew about it, then- if he ever needed to hide from people- or lay low if he messed up- it’d be perfect!

The whispers’ mutterings picked up, bemoaning the familiarity of the idea as Tommy climbed into the well, digging down and creating a hole underneath it. He blocked off the water with an oak trapdoor, and dug out a small room in the dirt and stone. He placed a couple chests down, dumping the stolen items into them, and looked around. A crafting bench, a furnace, and a couple wooden planks for a counter were added around. He shouldn’t need much else down here. Except- he rummaged through the chests again, finding what he needed somewhat quickly in the practically empty box- aha! Bringing over the items he needed to the crafting table, he placed a blaze rod in the middle, lining up three cobblestone beneath it. As the crafting bench combined the items, Tommy felt his hands start shaking. 

A brewing stand lay on the crafting table, fully formed and ready to go. 

Tommy placed it onto the oak counter and stepped back to look at it. His limbs were buzzing, excitement and fear combining to make his heart feel like it was going to explode. 

Yeah , he thought. I’m definitely not telling them this is here.

Quickly, before his absence could be noticed, he flipped the trapdoor and swam up, back out into the garden. The trapdoor wasn’t too visible from above ground, so his little base would be safe. He shook out his limbs and sat down on one of his benches, hoping that by the time Bdubs came over, the panic would no longer be apparent on his face.

And he may have been a bit tired from all the building he had done, but he was choosing to ignore that. It definitely wasn’t the reason he was now laying down on the bench. And in no way was it the reason the time in between his blinks was getting longer and longer. And so what if the sun was creating a gentle warmth in the garden, huh? It was fine! No one was going to be upset with him for laying down for a little while. Besides, even if he did fall asleep, big men take naps! And there was no one to push him off the bench if he did happen to either. It was alright. He was okay.

He yawned, watching the vines hanging from the well sway in the light breeze as he slowly fell into a comfortable doze. 

Bdubs knew where he was if he needed him.

<Watching Player: Grian>

The medbay, previously overcrowded, was now nearly entirely empty. Only a week ago there'd been several hermits still on medical watch, but they'd slowly been cleared, leaving only Grian in one of the thin hospital beds. Tango had been released not ten minutes earlier, escorted back to his base by Zedaph. Needless to say, Grian was very much looking forward to being out of here.

Joe approached his cot, armed with fresh bandages and a cheerful smile. “Alrighty, you’re all good to go!” He announced, “Just take these if the stitches on your torso start to get irritated.”

“I was good to go two weeks ago, Joe,” Grian grumbled, but took the offering all the same.

Joe, ignoring what he said, continued on with the same medical spiel Grian had heard the other hermits receiving over the past few weeks, “Just keep the flying and building to a minimum. And you better take care of yourself, that includes eating regularly and getting a full night's sleep. If you don’t- well, I know where you live.” 

Choosing to disregard the vague threat, Grian responded, admittedly a little snappy, “Yeah yeah, I got it. Can I go now?”

“Of course, I can walk with you to your base.”

“Look, Joe, I know X probably told you to keep an eye on me but I’m fine! Really, I am, I can get back to my base on my own.” He didn’t mean to get upset with Joe, he considers him a close friend and he knows, deep down, that he’s just trying to make sure he’s okay. But being stuck, under watch, made him want to tear off his own skin, and   the skin of whoever was standing in the way of him leaving.

Joe put his hands up in surrender, “I was just gonna walk with you. And X didn’t tell me to do anything.”

“Except to keep me in the medbay for two weeks longer than necessary.” 

Joe sighed, “Because he’s worried about you, especially considering-”

“Well he doesn’t need to be, I’m fine .”

“- Considering what has happened in previous aftermaths of the games. And the decision to keep you here under watch was made by Doc and I as well,” He explained, talking like he was speaking to a petulant child.

It didn’t exactly make him feel better. “Right.”

“I won’t apologize for being concerned about your safety, but I am sorry, cause I know none of this is any fun for you,” He continued with an apologetic look.

“It isn’t,” Grian agreed before deflating slightly, his irritation giving way for guilt, it wasn’t their fault any of this was happening. “I’m sorry, I know this isn’t fun for you guys either.” 

“You don’t have to be sorry,” Joe assured. “I’d be frustrated in your shoes too. Just, hey, call someone if you need something, yeah? Any of us, we’re only a ping away.” 

“I will,” He promised, hoping he’d be able to keep it. “Thanks, Joe.” 

“Anytime, see ya later,” He waved as Grian walked out the door. Though he only made it about ten blocks before Joe called after him “Oh and don’t forget, we have a meeting scheduled for later today! It’s gonna be at Bdub’s courthouse since we haven’t actually built a meeting hall.”

He gave him a thumbs up. “I’ll be there!” 

“Don’t be late!”

“No promises!” 

He took off from the ground, reveling in the feeling of the wind brushing against his feathers. Oh, how he missed this. He didn’t do anything crazy while in the air, being aware enough to recognize his wings limits after being confined for the entirety of the games (Also he didn’t feel like getting lectured again for overdoing it or going back to being grounded for them to heal all over again). He flew carefully, mostly just gliding his way to the cherry mountain the five of them had based around. It was nice going slowly though, it gave him time to take in the beautiful view of their server, of home . 

He landed on the porch to his half finished base and walked into the kitchen to find it pretty much exactly as he’d left it, dust being the only indicator that something had happened. He tucked the bandages Joe had given him into his junk drawer and grabbed his red blue-print notebook and a few of his favorite pencils from the counter, deciding against building today, instead leaving his house for his dock. 

He sat with his talons dangling in the ocean water, taking in the salty scent of the sea before carefully opening his notebook to work on his building plans. It was simple, relaxing, and didn’t take a ton of energy which was nice, considering, despite how much it annoyed him, his body still hadn’t fully recovered either. He wasn’t sure what exactly to draw though, so he just let his pencil move across the page until he got some semblance of a build shape. 

When he finished drawing, a picture of a castle that he definitely wasn’t going to build, at least not this season, but it was still a good drawing nonetheless; he closed his notebook and checked the time on his comm. What time did they say the meeting was? 1:00 or 1:30? Well he hoped it was the latter considering it was currently 1:23. After carefully concealing his notebook and supplies in his inventory, he launched off the ground yet again, this time towards the shopping district. If he was late, well no one would be surprised. (Timmy always said he had the worst sense of time than anyone else. He would like to counter that Tim doesn’t know Etho very well).

He arrived to the courthouse in the middle of the shopping district, taking a moment to look in awe at the outstanding build before him. He’d seen it before, but still- Man could Bdubs build. He walked in slowly, quietly in case the meeting had started. Though it seemed it hadn’t yet (So it was 1:30, at least he can’t be yelled at for being late again ). He took his normal spot next to Mumbo, who smiled at him when he sat down in the pew like seats. He was relieved to see his mustached friend was seemingly doing okay. It was a little bit of an odd place to have it, but it was certainly not the weirdest place they’ve held a server meeting. (Season 8 was wild in more ways than one). 

He looked around and was shocked to find that he was not the last to arrive, something that didn’t typically happen. 

After making a mental tally of who all was there, It seemed they were still missing Impulse, Bdubs, Zed, and Tango- the latter two arriving into the meeting room with a crash. Tango had apparently decided he’d wanted to try walking the entire way backwards, and Zed was following closely enough that when Tango fell through the doors, Zed tripped and fell as well. By the time the room was finished laughing at the two, the door opened again.

“How’s Tommy?” False asked, standing from her seat, before Impulse had the chance to even step foot in the meeting room.

“He's alright,” Impulse assured. “He seems relatively okay today, and Bdubs is babysitting, he’ll be fine.” 

False sat back down, though she didn’t exactly look like she believed Impulse’s assurances. Grian noted the way her feathers were tensed, ruffled almost in a protective stance. It reminded him a bit of himself when he’s worried about his siblings, even if it was something ridiculous or small, that instinct kicking into overdrive every time. He wondered if False’s instincts had latched onto Tommy in a similar way. 

“Bdubs… Is.. Babysitting?” Gem laughed. “Is that- a good idea?” 

“He’ll be fine!” Impulse repeated, sounding like he was trying to convince himself as well.

“I mean, if you say so.”

With everyone finally there and seated, Xisuma seemed to decide it was time to begin the meeting.

“How is everyone doing?” 

And oh boy, isn't that a loaded question. 

The room responded with various calls of alright, good, better, etc. Were those accurate? Not really, but they were all going to pretend they were. It had become a routine after the games; get home, heal (at least physically), and then do their best to continue living like nothing had happened. It was easier that way, easier to ignore what they’d just gone through, what they’d done . Of course pretending didn’t always work, not when the mark the games left on each of them were still very much present. But they weren’t going to talk about it. 

They weren't going to talk about how Tango runs from everyone in an attempt to hide the fact that he’s terrified of his closest friends, or how Etho and Cleo each have their own versions of self imposed exile built on guilt and regret, or how Mumbo wakes up screaming nearly every night, or how Impulse ignores his own needs in favor of trying to care for everyone else. They were all going to ignore it until a breakdown happened and ignoring it is no longer an option. Sure, the other hermits tried to get them to talk, to be open about what happened, but most of those attempts were futile. Especially since, try as they might, they had no way of understanding what these games were like.  Sure, this wasn’t exactly a healthy method of dealing with these things, but Grian knew he had no room to judge. It’s not like he wanted to talk about his behavior after the games either. The reasons as to why they kept him in the medbay for so long, the same reason X has him blocked from Admin permissions, he’d like to keep to himself, thank you very much.  

“Well, I’m not doing well! At all!!” 

“We know, Zedaph.”

“I’m still cleaning burn cream out of my fur!”

“We know, Zedaph.”

“I’d like compensation for my efforts!”

“Shut up, Zedaph.”

“Okayy,” Xisuma interrupted. “Good to see everyone’s healed! I’m sure everyone would like to discuss the child we found on the server a few weeks ago.”

“Uh huh.”

“Yup.”

“Yes we would!”

“So, Impulse, you go,” X suggested. “You’ve spent the most time with him afterall.” 

“Where do I even start,” He muttered. “Well, he’s, well he’s- got quite a bit going on. I can say he’s doing better than he was when he first got here. He’s not quite as skittish . He is definitely still wary of everything and everyone. But he no longer acts like a scared, cornered cat. To be honest, he still hasn't really said anything about his old server. Though, the things he has said are concerning to say the least.”

“Would he be up to meeting more of us?” Mumbo asked.

“I think so, just slowly, only like one to two at a time.” 

“What all has he said?” Hypno, who was a few rows away from Grian with Xb and Jevin, asked.

“Mostly implications, nothing too direct. He’s made comments that hint he isn’t used to having stable housing or a reliable food source. Oh, and he hasn’t mentioned any names or given us any hints about that codependency we noticed.” Impulse turned more towards X and Doc as he spoke. “Although he’s getting better with it, he doesn’t act exactly the same way around False as he used to. It’s still concerning, but I think with time and more interactions with others it’ll keep getting better.”

Wow, Grian thought to himself. This poor kid.

“Other than that,” Impulse continued. “I haven’t been able to really pin anything down. He’s definitely come from an abusive server though. That’s for sure.”

“At this point we’re trying to complete a puzzle despite only having a few of the pieces,” Joe said.

Impulse nodded before turning, “Doc, do you have anything important you noticed when you gave him that health screening?” 

“Nothing too different than what’s already been discussed. He does have a lot of past injuries that really didn’t heal right but as far as I can see there’s been no detrimental damage- aside from the fact that he lost the bottom half of his right leg at an undisclosed point in time.”

“Undisclosed as in, you’re not telling us, or he’s not telling us?” 

“He’s not telling us,” Doc clarified. “Oh and I’m pretty sure he’s been dealing with hallucinations."

“You didn’t mention that to any of us??” Cub chimed it, looking a bit exasperated. “That’s important info, I’d say!” 

“I’ve been a bit busy! I got distracted trying to build the kid a new prosthetic. And I don’t know for sure , I just know he seems to spend a lot of time looking at things that aren’t there.” 

“That would actually explain quite a few of his behaviors," Zedaph said. “Like, now that you mention it, he’s shown several signs of having at least auditory hallucinations. He tends to stare off into space a lot, which doesn’t mean much on its own, but Impulse has mentioned that he mutters to himself quite a bit too.” 

“I’m pretty sure he knows they aren’t there,” Doc said. “Or at least he knows that we can’t see or hear them. But that is something we should probably look more into.”

“If that’s all you’ve got then- False, I know you’ve spent quite a bit of time with him as well, anything to add?” 

False was quiet for a moment, staring at where her hands were clasped on the table in front of her. She opened her mouth a few times, as if to speak, before deciding against it each time- as if the words she was searching for were lost. Eventually, she found them, though she didn't seem to like what she'd found.

“Last week, he asked me why I let my feathers get so long.” 

The room fell silent.

Doc spoke first, voicing what no one else wanted to, “That would explain why he doesn’t seem concerned about wings being clipped. He thinks it's normal.” 

“So whoever was in charge of him on his old server-” Pearl started. “-was clipping his flight feathers regularly? ” 

False cleared her throat, seemingly trying to compose herself before continuing, “Also, in the medbay, when I told him he wouldn’t be able to fly for a while he responded with, and these are his words exactly: ‘I know the rules’.” 

“Given how scared he always seems of breaking the rules,” Joe added. “I guess it’d make sense that his old server ran like a tyranny.”

“I’m gonna talk to him tomorrow, about his wings,” False decided, “We’re never gonna get any answers from him if we keep tip-toeing around everything.” 

“That’s probably a good idea but that’ll be a tough conversation, False. For both of you.” Cleo spoke up. “Call someone if you need to.” 

“I will, I promise.” 

The silence lulled for a few moments after that, the hermits, especially the ones who hadn’t even seen Tommy yet, taking in all this information with differing states of horror in their expressions. 

“So,” Impulse clasped his hands. “Any other questions about Tommy before we move on?’

“Yeah, I have one,” Cub said. “Have we figured out why this kid is so scared of X? Oh and how he got on the server? Well I guess that’s two. ”

“No, we have not,” Impulse responded, sounding almost defeated. “Absolutely no progress on either of those fronts.”

“I have no clue about the server thing but with Zizuma it could just be that he’s an admin,” Doc suggested, “If his old admin was a piece of shit like we assume, he could just be wary of them in general.” 

“Language,” X chided. “But yeah, that's what I assumed too.”

“ Language, ” Doc mocked with a poor imitation of X’s voice.

Xisuma threw a pencil at him. “Anyway,” He began, ignoring the stifled laughter

from around the room. “If that’s all we have about the kid, we should probably move onto server-related discussions. Unless anyone has anything else they want to add?”

A round of ‘no’s and shaken heads led them into the next topic.

Grian mostly zoned out while the others droned on about server maintenance stuff and how builds were going. To be entirely honest he didn’t usually pay too much attention in these meetings anyway. Which has never ended poorly for him before- (Getting volunteered to clean up all the stray boats on the server wasn’t his idea of a fun afternoon). (Not to mention, X made a command for that but he had to do it all because he was “off in his own little world” and “ignoring important updates“! Thanks a lot, Keralis). (It did not- in fact, teach him to pay attention but there was no way he was going to tell Keralis that).

Though, as odd as it may seem, being able to sit, zoning out, in a monotonous meeting was really quite nice. Sure, he’d rather be doing something much more entertaining, especially after having been stuck in the med bay for three long weeks. But this boring, familiar meeting gave him a sense of safety he hadn’t felt in nearly three months now. He was surrounded by some of the best people he knew, all of which were now healed and up to moving again, for the most part back to their normal selves. 

He rested his head in his hand, fidgeting with the hem of his sweater sleeve, letting himself relax to the sounds of the hermits' voices playfully discussing various server stuff. 

He did not, however, intend on falling asleep.

Nor did he realize he had fallen asleep until, what he assumed was several hours later based on the fact that the sun was mostly set, just barely enough light in the sky to paint an orange hue on the lower clouds. He opened his eyes a bit more to get a sense of his surroundings, finding himself tucked up in his own nest. Someone must have carried him here after the meeting. It wasn’t the first time one of the other hermits have carried him to bed after he fell asleep somewhere weird. 

Next to his nest he found a thermos filled with potato soup that was still warm and two full bottles of water. He pulled himself upright, leaning against the edges of his nest, actually finding that he was hungry enough to eat but the exhaustion in his limbs kept him from wanting to move too much. 

He ate the soup slowly- well he started eating it slowly, eventually scarfing it down probably a little too quickly. But hey, it was really good, and was the first meal meal he’s had in a while. Certainly much better than the scraps of food they had to scrounge for while in the games. 

He took a few sips of water before deciding to lay back down, still tired despite his nap. He curled up in his favorite blankets, finding comfort in the scent and squishyness of his nest that had something from each of the hermits, and few things from other family members off server. His breathing slowed while he drifted off, but then he spotted what he hoped was just a trick of the light, a large eye, a purple, all too familiar eye, peering through his window. Though he didn’t get much time to dwell on it before slumber overtook him once more.

Chapter Text

Reader has joined the game.

<Watching Player: Falsesymmetry>

The meeting was coming to a gradual close, veering away from actual discussion about the server as more and more hermits stood from their seats. In the end, as it usually did, it had turned into a general gathering, with all of the hermits splitting off into groups, gossiping and laughing, sharing whatever came to mind while they had everyone in attendance.

Across the room, Mumbo called out with a laugh, saying that someone would need to carry Grian home to his nest since the little bird had fallen asleep. Normally, False probably would have volunteered to fly him home, but she had some pressing matters on her mind.

“Hey, X, any update on locating the server Tommy came from?”

“Yes actually, I think I found it- or at least, I found a server who’s admin was listed as Dream. He’s not the owner of the server, but he is listed as admin.”

“Have you reported it yet? Gotten these bastards shut down?” She questioned, the words coming out in a flurry of anxiety.

“No, not yet.”

“Why the hell not? You saw what they did to Tommy, what state they left him in!” False could hear the blood in her veins pumping.

“I know, False, but that’s exactly why I haven’t. An admin reporting another admin’s server, especially for abuse like this isn’t something that happens quietly. As soon as I do, Dream will know I am the one who did.”

“So? We’re not scared of that-!”

Xisuma pressed a button on the side of his helmet, turning the visor to the highest transparency he could. The eye contact helped her instincts, having that visual indicator of X’s sincerity. She knows she can trust X, she’s known that for a very long time, but right now, with her instincts on high alert, screaming at her to protect this fledgling, it's almost hard to get that through to her bird brain. It seemed Xisuma had taken notice, and like the attentive admin he was, done his best to ease that stress.

“I know that,” He said, the gravity of the words not lost on her. “That’s not what I’m concerned about. We still don’t know how Tommy got here, or what happened before he did. There is a good chance that Dream may be looking for Tommy. And if I report him for child abuse, which I’ll need evidence for-”

“He’s gonna know that Tommy’s with us.”

“Exactly. And, if there is even a slight chance that there are more kids on that server, a report will only put them in danger, especially if Dream is concerned about being arrested. And that's not a risk I'm willing to take.”

“Okay, that- makes sense. I guess,” She conceded.

“I know you want to put an end to the people that hurt him, I do too, we just have to do this carefully. I’ve sent a message out to Pixlriffs to see if he has any ideas, we’ll brainstorm on how to proceed. They won’t get away with this, I promise.” 

False nodded, trying to let the reassurance calm the fire that’d started in her chest. She shuffled her wings, trying in vain to smooth down the ruffled feathers. The noise level in the room, despite it slowly dying down, was overwhelming, and as it continued to grate on her nerves, she realized it was most definitely time to go home.

The flight wasn’t terribly long, yet the sight of her own base did little to calm her instincts. She spent the day doing maintenance around her base, small menial tasks that didn’t take much brain power, but were enough to at least hold her focus. 

By the time the sun had set, exhaustion sat heavy in her muscles, so she retreated to the back of her cabin, to her nest-room. After changing into comfy clothes and doing her normal nighttime routine, she laid down in an attempt to get some rest for the most-likely tiring day of tomorrow. 

However, as soon as she tried to go to sleep, she knew it wasn’t going to be an easy task, not with the way her instincts were flaring. Everything in her was screaming at her to get to Tommy, protect and watch over the younger bird. He’s safe, she knows he’s safe. He’s with Impulse and Bdubs. With two people she’s known and trusted for a long time, who also care deeply for him. She rolled over, trying to get comfy, to fall asleep. He’s fine . She’s seeing him tomorrow. She’s not neglecting him by not being there, he’s fine he’s fine he’s-

She threw her blankets off and stood up with a frustrated huff. Sure, she didn’t try to go to sleep for that long, but she knew herself well enough; she knew she had no chance at being able to relax on her own tonight. She needed the same thing she’d provided Grian with a couple weeks back.

Not really wanting to fly all that far in the dark (especially since she knew there was a good chance she’d have some phantoms spawn, and fighting them would be annoying while she was this tired), she took stock of the people closest to her. 

Cleo was off at Joe’s base, Xb is likely to be down in the ocean somewhere quite literally sleeping with the fishes, and she’s pretty sure Beef was still staying with Etho, meaning that the closest neighbor she had left was Ren. Which she didn’t mind at all, he was always good at helping her “chill out” as he said, plus it gave her an excuse to check up on him, which she hadn’t had much of a chance to do since they all returned. 

She launched off the porch of her cabin, flying over the middle of their neighborhood,  towards the top of the walls of the space-colony-build he’d been working on. After crossing over them she headed straight for the “fallen” aircraft in the middle where he’d set up his main living space, taking a breath of relief when she saw that his interior lights were still on. 

She knocked on the door, only having to wait a second before Ren opened it.

“Can’t sleep?” He asked.

She nodded.

“Stressed about the kid, huh?”

She nodded again.

“Come in, I'll put the kettle on.”

The two sat in silence while they waited for the kettle to boil, sitting comfortably in each other’s presence.

“How are you doing?” She asked once they sat down at the table, waiting for their tea to steep. 

“I feel like I should be asking you that, Falsie,” Ren laughed lightly. “I’m doing better I think, still a bit foggy from, well, everything. But getting better.” 

“That’s good, I’m glad.”

“And how are you doing? Cause- and no offence but- I don’t think I’ve ever seen your feathers tenser.” 

“I’m… stressed, I guess is the best way to put it. This whole thing’s been- a lot . The kid was in really rough shape when we found him and it’s clear he didn’t come from a good place-”

“And now you’re feeling overly protective of him,” Ren guessed.

“Yeah, and it doesn’t help that he imprinted on me really fast and kept looking to me for protection-”

“And now you feel it’s your responsibility to protect him.” 

“Exactly.” She sighed, trying to resist the urge to faceplant into the table.

Ren smiled a bit, his normal ever so slightly mischievous smile, “You’ve really taken him under your wing , huh?” 

“Bad pun.”

“You smiled.” 

  False tried to glare at him, but found the grin on her face too stuck to really change her expression. “Fine, you win that one.”

“Well as we all know, between you and me I always win.”

“That’s debatable.” 

“Well up you get, to the couch. Your feathers need preening,” he scolded lightheartedly.

“Rude.” 

“Seriously, you're as tense as a strider in an ice bath!”

“Ren, that’s not an expression.” 

“Come on, to the couch.” 

Rolling her eyes, she stood up, setting her mug in the sink before following him to the cozy living room, settling on the couch with her back facing him.

“Ren, why do you have so many pillows in here? I can’t even see the floor.”

“There’s a floor! It's just underneath all the cozy.” 

“You’re never beating the dog bed allegations.” 

“Hush now, relaxing time.”

Slowly he began to work through her feathers, gentle as always, carefully correcting their placement and removing any dirt or grime. She let her mind float as he worked, finally allowing her limbs to relax into the comforting feeling of being preened. She didn’t know how long had passed before Ren finished, pulling a blanket over her as her eyes closed, her body welcoming sleep with ease.

“Goodnight, Falsie.” 

<Watching Player: TommyInnit>

A single layer cake, covered in red frosting and golden sprinkles, sat on the table in front of him. It was a real piece of work, crumbling and uneven, despite the single layer. The frosting was a mess- piled high on some parts and spread thin enough to see through on others- he’d never decorated a cake before, and only ever eaten one once, so really it was the best he could do. It was sickeningly sweet, causing his stomach to protest the second it even hit his fork. Heat snapped at his ankles where they rested underneath the table, and when the rolling in his stomach bubbled up and forced him to lean sideways, he saw there was no grass floor, instead a yawning pit of lava spread far and wide beneath him. He sat on the crumbling edge of the netherrack path, alone at the table as the poor excuse for a cake melted and crumbled in on itself in front of him. The candles- when did he add candles? - slid off the melting frosting, burning bright and then brighter and brighter as the frosting caught on fire. The flames spread, engulfing the cake entirely, and the table, and then the photos of his friends that lay there too. The evidence of the love he once received, burning to a crisp. Across the table, Tubbo pushed his chair back, a loud scratching noise emitting from the sudden movement. As he stood up, the chair fell over, falling down, down, down into the lava beneath them. Tubbo walked away. 

He did not look back. 

Tommy tried to follow, but found the second he tried to stand, he collapsed, the metal foot he’d grown used to missing from beneath him.

Tubbo kept walking.

He hated this. He hated this so much. No one was here. No one had come to his party. And he’d appreciate it if his brain would catch up with that fact. Tubbo wasn’t there. He wasn’t there. He wasn’t there. He wasn’t there He wasn’t thereHewasn’ttherehewasn’ttherehewasn’ttherehewasn’tthere-!

A glint of green in the corner of his vision pulled his attention away and suddenly he was falling off the netherrack path, apologizing for his terrible error before he even started falling. His wings he couldn’t feel his wings shot out to catch him, flaring, failing, as he went tumbling down off his tower head first. He grabbed desperately at the air rushing past him, wind whipping at his hair and feathers as his eyes locked onto the top of the pillar. Tubbo’s face peeked out over the edge, his eyes cold and disapproving as he stared down at Tommy. He pulled out a bow and arrow, pulling back the string, and suddenly Tommy was back in L’manburg, losing fighting a duel for his nation’s independence. 

The arrow lodged itself into his throat. 

The tower stretched hauntingly out of the water he was drowning in.

He felt the water pull him downwards off the bridge as he watched his second and last life heart fade away from his wrist. Air bubbled up around him as he sunk deeper, screaming soundlessly against the weight of the water.

He woke up with water gurgling in his lungs, a scream dying on his lips as he fought to surface the water. His legs tangled in something he couldn’t see, throwing him off the surface he’d found himself on. He hit the floor with a heavy thunk , laying completely still for a long moment, staring at the ceiling as everything caught up to him. 

He wasn’t drowning. He wasn’t dying again. He was alive. On Hermitcraft, in Impulse’s base, in his own room. 

He was okay. 

It was just a bad dream.

Everything was okay.

It was-

…

Everything was-!

… 

The room stretched around him, a tangible void on each side, amplifying every noise he made. 

It wasn’t okay.

He tore his gaze away from the ceiling, the endlessly far ceiling, and- were those eyes?

It wasn’t-

It was-

He’s not safe, he realized, he’s too visible, they’ll find him and he’s not safe, they can see him. They can see him. They can see him. They can see him.

Tommy scrambled backwards, shoving himself underneath the bed, his foot catching his blankets and dragging them with him. He couldn’t see the eyes anymore, but he could still feel them. He pushed himself up against the wall, as far as possible away from the edge of the bed frame as he could get, pulling a blanket over his body to help shield himself from view. 

He was panicking, logically he knew that. There was no one there, no one watching him, but he couldn’t seem to get that to click. 

He needed to hide.

He was hidden, sure, but not hidden enough .

He found the solution lying in his inventory. The bunker he’d made the day before had certainly served its purpose, and the several invisibility potions now in his hands were proof. He’d managed to scrounge up the rest of the ingredients that evening, after rooting through Impulse’s chests, and had seemingly forgotten to take the fruits of his labor out of his inventory after making them. It was rather lucky for him, in this case.

Tommy downed the first potion in one go, feeling that pleasantly cool sensation spread over his skin. He watched, his panic being taken over by nostalgic fascination as his hands disappeared before him, then his arms, then his chest and legs and feet until he was completely invisible. Then it flickered, and Tommy’s panic flared as he reached for a second potion. It wasn’t until the third that the invisibility stayed and he felt like he could breathe again.

The potion’s effect was a comforting weight on his chest. He was hidden. He was safe.

He fell slowly back into sleep, feeling hidden enough to rest now, underneath the cover of the bed and the blanket of invisibility. 

<Watching Player: Falsesymmetry> 

False knocked on Tommy’s bedroom door, waiting a few seconds for a response. When none came, she slowly pushed it open, peering into the room, only to find it empty. She panicked for a moment- Impulse had said Tommy hadn’t been awake yet- it was only the morning, after all- so where was he? Her panic quickly subsided however, when she spotted a roughly teenage shaped lump under the bed, starting to stir.

“Hey, kid? What- uh, watcha doing under there?”

Tommy poked his head out from underneath his bed, eyes wide and rimmed with red, his hair flat against his forehead with sweat. He looked around the room, a look of freshly awoken confusion on his face before he crawled out slowly- or tried to, only to be stopped by the multitude of blankets he was wrapped in. It was almost amusing, he reminded her of a very tired butterfly trying to emerge from its cocoon. Once he successfully untangled himself from the blankets, False grabbed his hand and helped him move from the floor to his bed.

“Rough night?” She guessed.

Tommy simply nodded, rubbing sleep out of the corner of his eyes. His gaze flickered quickly around the room, before settling back on False.

“I see you finally got that brace off?” She settled on the foot of Tommy’s bed, pulling up the blankets from the floor as she spoke, folding them haphazardly to place behind herself.

“Yeah, Cub -the guy with the lab coat? That’s his name, right?” He paused, looking to False for confirmation. “He came by a couple days ago. Zed was actually the one to take off the brace, so I couldn’t tell you why Cub was there- well he did give me this whole medical spiel- but yeah, it’s gone now.”

“Bet it’s nice having that weight off your wing, huh? Must’ve been hard to preen with it on.”

“Preen?” 

Okay, so we’re having this discussion now, False realized. Thought we’d take a minute before the tough questions, but here we are.

“Tommy, do you… not know what preening is?” 

“Why the fuck would I know what that is?” The sheer confusion on his face was enough to make her want to burn his old server to the ground. 

False took in a rather deep breath, steeling herself for the conversation she was about to start.

“Tommy,” the words came out slow, stilted. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that. About your wings.”

Confused terror came over Tommy’s face. “What do you-?”

“Tommy, do you remember last week, when you asked about my feathers? And I didn’t really answer you?”

“Yeah?” The words came out slow, before the terror fully took over. “I know I messed up, really, I’m sor-!”

“No, kid, you don’t have to apologize.” Her eyes, previously locked onto Tommy’s face, moved to look at her twisting hands. “What I mean to say, what I should have said then, is that it’s not right . Your wings being clipped, I mean. Here, look-” 

False raised her head, looking at the kid’s face as she lifted her right wing next to his left. 

“See these feathers? This section here? Those are primaries- flight feathers . When they’re fully grown, they help catch air and propel you, in other words, they let you fly. When they’re clipped, like yours are, they can’t do their job.”

Tommy’s gaze was locked onto her flight feathers, a terribly conflicted look on his face as he listened to her speak. “They let you fly?”

“Yeah, these feathers are really important for-”

“Not- not the feathers.” His eyes drifted from her wings to her face, watching her expression closely.

“Yeah. They do.” 

They sat in silence for a moment before she spoke again.

“It’s important to me that you know that you’re allowed to fly. No one, and I mean no one, should ever have taken that from you. And no one will, ever again. You don’t have to hide your wings, your instincts, your hybridity- none of it, not here. You’re allowed to be an avian here. You’re allowed to be a kid.”

Tommy was near completely silent, staring down at where his hands lay in his lap, white-knuckled around fistfulls of the fabric of his pants. After a moment, the quiet was broken by a very small, miserable sounding sniffle. 

When False leaned forwards, hoping to catch the kid’s eye, she saw the tears streaming down his face. Wordlessly, she offered her hand, opening her wings a bit further as the kid grabbed onto her arm and fell into her. He was fully sobbing now, with his head buried into her shoulder and his wings shaking, scrunched against his back. She wrapped her own around him, shielding him from the outside world, holding him as he cried.

It took a while before his sobs died down, and a bit longer after that before he pulled away. 

“I don’t know the first thing about being either of those,” he sheepishly admitted, his voice cracking as he wiped at the stray tears falling from his eyes.

“That’s okay, you’ll learn, we’ll show you.”

They ended up moving downstairs to the basement level, where the living room was, once False realized that Tommy didn’t have a nest in his room. With Impulse’s help, she and Tommy gathered practically all the blankets and pillows in the basement, taking them upstairs and piling them into the middle of the room. 

“Before I teach you to preen, since you’ve never been preened before, we’re going to need a nest. Have you ever built one before?” She asked as she backed through the bedroom door, arms full of blankets.

Tommy shook his head as he dropped the one he was carrying onto the pile. “I don’t think so, not if you need this many fucking blankets.” 

Ignoring the pain the answer gave her, False laughed. It was honestly a lot of blankets, especially considering this wasn’t even the base of a nesting hermit. 

“I have a big base!” Impulse defended as he brought in several large pillows. “I need a lot of blankets- don’t judge me.”

“Sure, sure,” she laughed. “You’re one of the nesters, it’s okay to admit it, Impy.”

Impulse shook his head good-naturedly, heading back out the door. “Well, I’ll be downstairs if you need me. Have fun making your first nest, Toms, you’ll be learning from the best.”

“Alright,” False said, smiling a bit bigger at the compliment. “Let’s start by making a base layer, since you’ve got a mattress here it’ll be a bit easier to do. Although, we are going to need to remove the bedframe, so you can actually get in once the nest’s made.”

She worked as she spoke, explaining her movements as she took the frame apart and stored it in her inventory. With the frame out of the way, she pushed the mattress back into the corner where it had rested moments before. After making sure the kid was alright with the change, she moved to the center of the room where the blanket pile sat, sorting the thicker blankets into their own separate hill to work with. Once she found the biggest one, she set it aside from the rest. 

“Since this one is larger, we’re going to use it as a sort of cover for the smaller ones, so that it feels more uniform on the top,” she explained. “These smaller ones we’re going to pile in the center, that way the area where you’ll be laying is the thickest. I’ll do this one and I’ll let you do the rest, that way you can choose which you want where, that sound alright?”

Tommy nodded, watching eagerly as she placed the first blanket down, before grabbing one from the pile himself. Almost reverently, he placed the second one on top of the first, and then the next, and the one after that, until the pile was gone and there was a small pad of blankets on the bed. 

“Nice job, kid,” she smiled, reaching to ruffle his hair. When he didn’t flinch away from the touch, pride spurred a bigger smile to settle on her face. “Next we work on the walls. These’ll be mostly pillows.”

She grabbed one said item from its designated pile, starting the base of the wall, letting Tommy take over once he felt he knew what to do. Slowly, the wall of the nest came together. Before the kid went to place the final pillow, finishing the circle, False stopped him. 

“Now while most avian nests are primarily built the same, this is one of those things that is more of a preference,” she smiled. “If you’d like, you can finish the circle and have the wall entirely around the nest, or you could leave this open- like a doorway. Again, this one’s entirely your preference!”

Tommy held the pillow in his hands for a moment, staring at the opening. “Which one do you do?” 

“Well, it all depends on which I feel more of a need for,” False began, trying to word her answer so that the kid would make his own decision. “The full wall is nice when it comes to instincts, makes you feel safer, while the opening’s more convenient for going in and out. It all boils down to which you want. And you can always change it later if you decide you prefer the other.”

He nodded, debating internally for a moment before placing the pillow in his hands down, finishing the circle. 

“Alright! Base of wall complete, now we cover it, just to keep it in place a bit!”

Once several blankets coated the pillow wall, False took inventory of their remaining stock. The pile of pillows was noticeably smaller, maybe only five or six being left. The blankets were doing much better, however, enough left over that they might be able to return a couple to downstairs once all was said and done. 

“Now we just need to put a few blankets, pillows, maybe some clothes or small trinkets and such inside the nest- make it a bit more like home, yeah?”

As soon as she finished her sentence, there was a weird sort of knock at the door. It honestly sounded more like someone kicking it rather than knocking, and was followed immediately by a verbal, “Knock knock!”

False laughed, “Pearlie, that you?” 

“Yup it’s me! Could uh, could one of you let me in please? Arms are kinda occupied.”   

False got up from the almost done nest and opened the door to find a mildly frazzled looking Pearl lugging around a large cardboard box that obscured the view of the upper half of her body. False helped her set it down before turning around to introduce the two others, “Tommy, this is Pearl. Pearl- Tommy.”

“Hi,” Tommy greeted somewhat sheepishly. 

“Nice to finally meet ya!”

“So what’cha got there, Pearl?” False asked, turning her attention back to the giant box, which seemed to be filled with various cozy things. 

“Oh, well a little birdie told- well no, technically I’m the birdie- anyway! I heard you were in need of some nesting materials so I went around and collected some. Got a little something from each hermit!”

“Really? You got something from every hermit?” 

“Yup!” Pearl smiled, looking very proud of herself, “Even managed to get stuff from Joe and side note- why is he basing so far away? What is he even doing out there?” 

“I don’t think I ever fully understand what it is Joe Hills is up to,” False laughed. “Thanks for this, Pearl.”

“Of course! Every avian should have good nesting supplies.” 

False turned back to Tommy, sitting back down beside the nest, pulling the box between them. “Wanna take a look at what we’ve got?”

Tommy, somewhat hesitantly, sat up on his knees to peer inside. “Every- Everyone on the server gave something for this?” 

“Yep!” Pearl smiled from the doorway. “Most of it’s nesting supplies, but some hermits threw in a couple things for your room in general, after all, ya gotta have a cozy room to go with a cozy nest!”

“Use whatever you’d like, what you don’t use can just stay in the box for later,” False added as Tommy started to rifle through the box’s contents with careful curiosity, as if he was afraid of breaking something. A green, soft looking blanket lay on the top, and after a bit of detangling, the cozy item was slowly pulled from the box. 

“Bdubs, I'm guessing?” False asked with a bit of a laugh, directing the question at Pearl. 

“Of course, you know he loves his moss.” 

Tommy took the blanket in his hands, just holding it for a moment before looking around the nest, as if searching for the perfect place to set it. After several moments of consideration, he laid it near the top of the nest, carefully spreading it across a few pillows. Once he was content with the placement, he practically threw himself out of the nest, excited to see what else the box held. 

Just underneath where the blanket rested, there was a small pocketwatch, one False instantly knew was also from Bdubs. Tommy stared at it for a moment, his gaze drifting to his nest and then back to the watch in consideration, before eventually setting it down gently next to where he was sitting. 

“We can ask Impulse to add some shelves in here,” False offered. “That way you have somewhere to put the stuff that wouldn’t necessarily go in the nest.” 

“You really don’t have to, I can just put them in a chest,” he paused, looking back at the pocketwatch. “Although, I guess it’d be nice to be able to see it… If you’re sure it’d be okay with Impulse.”

“I’m sure Impulse would love to, all we gotta do is ask.”

Tommy nodded in reply, quickly going back to sorting through the box and pulling out the next item. “Tea?” He asked, holding a box filled with a variety of small packages.

“Yup, those are from Joel. That man has the largest tea collection I’ve ever seen. Despite Etho and Xisuma’s attempts to compete with him,” Pearl explained, a slight laugh gracing the last sentence. “It should be right next to it- there’s a mug in there too.”

At her words, the kid looked back into the box, seeming to find the aforementioned mug with little issue. He turned it around in his hands, looking at each and every detail that’d been added to it.

“That’s from Grian,” Pearl explained. “He enjoys doing pottery, and once he saw that Joel added teas to the box he wanted to give you something nice to drink ‘em out of.” 

At Grian’s name, the kid flinched slightly, before quickly and minutely shaking his head. False decided not to mention it, remembering the first interaction he’d had with Grian on the server. Eventually, they’d have to properly introduce the two, help Tommy learn to not be so scared of him. She’s sure they’d get on wonderfully once they got past that misunderstanding. 

As she broke away from her thoughts, she realized that the kid had moved on much faster than she had, evident by the big, fluffy, and incredibly bright red pillow he held.

“That’s from Tango, sorry if there’s any redstone dust on it,” Pearl apologized from the spot she’d taken up on the floor opposite them. “I don’t think he owns a single thing that isn’t covered in it.” 

Tommy examined it, feeling the texture and the weight before deciding to put it right next to Bdubs blanket. 

Slowly, he continued to work through the box, smile growing as he grabbed a stuffed animal- a fish that looked like it was supposed to be some kind of manta ray? That was False’s best guess. It had the shape of a manta ray at least, but had an almost withering-like effect for the pattern on its back.

“Is this… A fish?” Tommy asked, an incredibly amused look on his face. 

“Yeah, Gem donated that one! She’s got some weird fisherman thing going on this season. She says she modeled it after a fish she caught. To be honest I have no idea where she’s getting these things from.” 

“It looks so fucked up,” Tommy laughed. “I love it. I’m gonna name it Clementine.” He set the weird fish plush up on the wall of the nest, almost perching it. 

Next he pulled out a pink wool blanket that had a matching stuffed animal sheep wrapped up inside it, and before Pearl could get the chance to announce who it was from, Tommy said “This is from Zed, innit?” with a huge grin on his face. 

Pearl erupted with laughter next to her, and it wasn’t long before False followed, the kid grinning at the both of them as their laughter died down.

 “I see you’ve gotten to know him well,” Pearl chuckled.

After setting up the blanket next to his sleeping pillows, he set the sheep next to the weird fish from Gem, positioning them carefully, as if making sure they were comfortable.

One by one, he took each item out of the box, carefully examining each one before deciding its place in or outside of the nest, with Pearl telling him who each item was from as he went. A weighted blanket from Xb, a warm lamp from Keralis, a frog plush from Etho (which was placed next to the other two on the side of his nest), as well as some fuzzy socks from Joe, before he paused, staring into the box.

Slowly, gingerly, as if he was suddenly scared of making too quickly of a movement, he pulled out the next gift- a stuffed cow, made with clear care despite the slight inexpertise, with two black button eyes and visible yet sturdy stitching holding the limbs together. 

“That one’s from Beef,” Pearl said, though False wasn’t sure Tommy heard her, his attention focused entirely on the item in his hands.

Unlike the other comfort items, the cow did not get a designated spot in the nest, instead Tommy sat criss-cross and set the stuffed animal in his lap, hugging it for a bit before silent tears started running down his face.

“Ya like cows?” Pearl asked, voice intentionally soft.

Tommy nodded, burying most of his face in the plushy.

“Beef’s raising a bunch of ‘em over on his farm, I’m sure he’d love to have you out there someday if you’d like.”

Despite the tears, Tommy’s eyes lit up at the suggestion and nodded once again, with more energy this time. “I’d like that.” He muttered softly, wiping the tears from his face, giving the cow one last squeeze before going back to peering inside the box. 

Slowly, but surely, the kid continued pulling each gift from the box, learning who they were from and giving a home to each one as he went. Several more items were given a place within the nest, such as the pillows from Ren and a hoodie that Cleo had sewn for him, adorned in thoughtful patches and hand embroidered designs. A few other trinkets had also found their way into the folds of the nest, the less breakable and not as potentially uncomfortable ones. Those trinkets being the ones from Skizz and Wels. The latter of which were made from old scrapped armour- a detail Tommy had thought was incredibly cool. The other, more breakable ones, were set aside to decorate his future shelves- a goat horn from Cub, binoculars- customized out of two spyglasses- from Scar, and a handwired fan from Mumbo. Not surprisingly, the kid had never seen a fan before, and his reaction once he had figured out the contraption was a bit amusing. 

After he was done playing with the fan- an astonished look on his face that reminded False of Grian whenever one of the redstoners showed him one of their machines- he continued rifling through the box. A nice leather journal and quill from Doc, as well as a set of old fantasy books from Jevin- that he’d collected and read in order to prepare for his magical forest base this season- joined the pile of items awaiting their place on a shelf. Underneath the books, several paintings of moths and the moon waited, retrieved from the cardboard as Pearl explained that she’d made them over the past couple of weeks, and False knew that she meant during her time in the medbay.

When he reached the last two items in the box, his eyes widened.

“Are these… discs?” His breath caught as he opened the well-made wooden case filled with the various records. “Real actual discs?”

A look of barely concealed hope and yearning took over Tommy’s face, yet his eyes held a certain worry to them, as if he was expecting the discs to be fake, or taken away, or destroyed- anything but his .

“Yup, they’re real authentic discs. And , a gift, they’re all yours,” False answered for Pearl, hoping to emphasize to Tommy that they were his , all if it was and it wasn’t going to be taken away.  

When Tommy pulled his eyes away from the discs in his hand, he turned to Pearl, “Who donated these?” He asked, almost timidly. 

“Xisuma,” Pearl answered softly, knowing the fear the kid had for their admin. “Music is like his favorite thing so he’s always got a ton of those. He tried to pick out ones he thought you’d like.”

Tommy turned to stare back at the discs as Pearl continued. “The juke box in there is from Hypno. I ran into him and X at the same time and Hypno decided that if X was giving you music discs you outta have something to play ‘em with.”  

“The Admin,” he spoke slowly, hesitantly. “He gave these to me ? Like, actually , you weren’t kidding about them being mine? He’s not going to want them back?”

“Like I said, Xisuma has a ton of music discs, he’s been collecting them for years, from all the different versions and he’s gotten quite a few duplicates.” Pearl explained, clearly trying to keep her voice cheerful, “The ones he gave you are yours to keep. X isn’t the type to take back a gift.” 

The tears that the cow plush had brought out earlier abruptly came back stronger as Tommy held the case of discs in his lap, his hold tight enough that his knuckles turned white. He was shaking, she noted. The discs clearly had some significance to him that she was unaware of, judging by his reaction. The look on Pearl’s face told her that she wasn’t alone in her confusion.

As his sobs picked up, False moved tentatively towards him, hopefully not too close as to crowd him, but close enough so that she could open her arms in offering for the second time that day. 

Without hesitation, he fell into her arms once again.

Pearl stood up, quietly announcing, “It’s getting late, I'm gonna go see if Impulse has any plans for dinner.” 

False sent her a thankful look before turning her full attention back to the crying child in her arms. She just held him, letting him cry as much as he needed to., hoping with everything in her that her embrace was comforting for him.

Once his sobs eventually slowed, he started to mutter various apologies that she quickly shut down. 

“It’s okay, I know you’re not used to anything like this. It’s okay to need time to adjust.” 

She sat for several moments in silence with him as he slowly worked towards slowing down his breathing, waiting for it to even out before she even considered moving to stand.

“Feeling okay enough to go eat dinner?”

Tommy nodded as he stood up with her, though he hesitated before walking out the door. She was about to question what was wrong before noticing the cow plushy still tightly held in his arms. 

“You can bring him with you,” she said. “It’s okay, you don’t have to leave him here.” 

As soon as they walked out the bedroom door, a cacophony of noise filtered up from downstairs. Loud laughter and friendly shouting let False know that the meal was going to be anything but boring. 

“Dinner ready, Impy?” She called as she and Tommy stepped off the stairs.

“Yup, all ready to be served! Oh, also, these guys are here,” Impulse added, pointing at Tango, Skizz, and Zed with fond annoyance on his face. “Because of course they are.” 

“Is it a crime to want to have dinner with our friends?” Tango exasperated good naturedly. 

“More like, you didn’t want to have to cook yourselves dinner.”

“Listen you know me, Skizz and Zed in the kitchen is never a good idea.” 

“I actually agree with that statement,” Pearl popped in. “I remember what happened to my house in season nine when you two,” She accentuated her words with fierce points towards Zed and Tango, “Tried to cook me dinner and lit me whole house on fire!”

“We barely scorched it!” 

“I had to replace a whole wall!” 

Before Tango and Pearl could continue their silly arguing, Impulse turned to Tommy, “Hey Toms, how was nest building?”

“It was nice,” Tommy answered, the faintest sniffle accenting his words. “It’s really comfy, and Pearl brought a bunch of stuff for it, apparently from everyone on the server?”

“Of course we did!” Zed chimed in, grinning from his spot on top of a counter. “But we all know that my contribution was the best!” At the brag, Pearl lightly elbowed him, causing the sheep hybrid to dramatically let himself fall off the counter with a shout.

Laughter filled the room at the display, dying down and then reigniting as Zedaph tried in vain to pull himself up from the floor due to his hooves refusing to catch any traction on the tiled ground. Eventually, Skizz took pity on him and helped him up. 

“You’re Tango.” Tommy said once the room quieted down. It wasn’t a question. False wondered how much Impulse and Zed must have talked about him for Tommy to be able to recognize Tango upon first sight. 

“That’s correct! Nice to meet you,” Tango confirmed, leaning forward as Impulse ducked behind him to grab a stack of bowls from the cupboard, which he handed to Skizz to set the table with.

The group took a seat at the dining table while Impulse brought over the steaming pot of what False assumed to be a soup of some kind. In an impromptu sort of assembly line, they swiftly got everyone served and began to tuck into the meal. 

It was good, a relatively simple meal all things considered- chicken noodle soup with a few added vegetables- and the atmosphere was nice. Light conversation circled as they ate, with only one minor instance of someone choking on their food at an unexpected joke. By the time everyone’s second bowls were empty and the soup in the center of the table was no longer steaming, the meal itself had been near entirely forgotten. 

Across the table from where False was sitting, Pearl and Skizz were holding an arm wrestling contest and Tango had somehow already lost three diamonds from betting on it. To her surprise, the three he’d lost sat in front of none other than the newest member to the server, who was grinning like a maniac as he turned to make a bet with Impulse too. As Pearl won, yet again, Impulse sighed, and handed Tommy a diamond.

“You guys can’t seriously be gambling with the kid already?” She sighed, a tone of fond exasperation lacing the noise.

“To be fair-” Tango defended as Tommy mumbled “not a kid” under his breath, which False chose to pretend she didn’t hear. “He’s won every bet so far! I thought by now Skizz would’ve at least won once , but no dice.” 

“I think your problem here is that you're betting on Skizz .” 

“Hey!” 

After several more rounds of arm wrestling and diamonds lost, their games came to a close as False noticed Tommy’s eyes beginning to droop. 

“Getting sleepy?” She whispered to him.

Tommy nodded, the movement slow as he tried to blink himself back awake.

“Well then, let’s go get those wings preened, and then you can sleep, sound alright?”

“Sounds good,” He mumbled back, standing up from the table with her. The two of them headed for the stairs but not before Tommy turned back to the group still at the table. “Thank you for dinner, Impulse, goodnight, guys.”

“Of course. Goodnight Toms, sleep well.” 

The rest of them followed up with a chorus of “goodnights” before the two of them ventured towards Tommy’s room. 

By the time they’d reached the top of the stairs, the kid was looking much more awake, a bundle of nerves as he stepped through his bedroom door.

“If you think it’d be too much for today, I don’t have to teach you to preen right now,” False offered, taking note of the way he was stiffly holding his wings.

“No, no, I’m good, I’m ready.”

“You can ask to stop at any point, alright?” She told him. “Instincts tend to get really loud when you preen, especially if you haven’t in awhile, so if it gets overwhelming, just let me know.”

“Okay, I think I’ll be okay, just,” Tommy paused, settling himself almost rigidly into his nest, his cow plushy still sitting in his lap. “Explain? I guess, just- as you go?”

“Of course.”

After asking for permission to enter the nest, False settled down by Tommy, sitting so that she was in view, but still able to reach his wings. She talked the kid through each motion, explaining the importance of preening and what to do as she went. Slowly, he melted into her hands, the anxiety from earlier practically vanishing as she sorted his feathers into place, removing the frankly ridiculous amount of dirt and debris stuck between them. 

He was entirely silent as she worked, not a single chirp or peep escaping him, despite the pure contented look on his face. It made something in False’s brain ache, wondering if he just didn’t feel safe enough, or if he hadn’t ever done so before, but she pushed the thought reluctantly aside. 

Another day, she told herself. Today has been enough.  

As soon as her hands left his feathers, she realized he’d already fallen asleep. As gently as possible, she moved Tommy off of where he’d sank into her lap, pulling a blanket across him and carefully moving out of the nest, trying her best not to wake him.

After softly shutting the bedroom door, False made her way down to the basement where “Zits” as they called themselves had moved to, Pearl apparently having already flown home. 

“He asleep?” Impulse asked as she slumped into the couch cushion adjacent to him, her body feeling the effects of the day despite it not being necessarily physically demanding. 

“Yeah he is, fell asleep almost immediately after he laid down.”

“That’s good, hopefully having a proper nest will help him sleep better at night.” Impulse sighed after a moment, looking frustrated with himself. “I gave him a bunch of blankets at first thinking he’d make a nest with them. When he didn’t, I just figured maybe he preferred to sleep in a bed, I never even considered that he wouldn’t know how to build one! He’s had nothing to help calm his instincts the entire time he’s been here.”

“That’s not your fault Impy,” Zed assured “You had no way of knowing that an almost full grown avian wouldn’t know how to build a nest.” 

“I know but I should have asked .” 

“ I didn’t even ask until today,” False cut in. “I’m furious that he’s never been taught about his instincts or anything, but he has a nest now, he has us now.” 

“How are you doing, False?” Zed asked, “I’m sure today wasn’t easy for you.” 

“It definitely wasn’t. I’m very tired. I’m good but tired. It was a long day, but I think, overall, it went well- all things considered.” 

“I know I only just met him today but he seems to be doing relatively okay,” Tango said, before quickly adding, “at least, compared to the things I’ve heard from you guys about the kid.” 

“Looking back on it, he has gotten a lot better from when he first got here.” False agreed, letting that realization relax her. “Its been rough, but I think he’s gonna be okay here.”

Chapter Text

Reader has joined the game.

<Watching Player: Tubbo_>

The office was dark, only a faint string of light shining onto the dark spruce desk from the single window, barely illuminating the spinning compass and its enchanted shimmer. Tubbo could hardly consider himself awake or aware, staring with half-lidded eyes at the item laying in front of his face, slouched as he was across the desk. A deep sense of wrongness ached throughout his bones as his guilt pulled his limbs downward. With his cheek pressed into the wooden desk, he watched the compass spin, and spin, and spin.

The most logical explanation was that Tommy was just in the Nether. 

The second most logical explanation…

Tubbo cut off the thought before it could finish. He was just in the Nether, he reassured himself. He had to be. He’s just been in the Nether. For the… past three weeks…

Tubbo ignored the heavy feeling in his chest- it wasn’t grief. 

Because Tommy wasn’t dead .

He couldn’t be. 

Besides, there was never a death message; Tubbo had checked. And checked. 

And checked. 

He’d spent more time the past several weeks scouring the chat logs than actually working , and he could tell his cabinet was starting to get a bit annoyed with him about it. It was fine, and besides, it wasn’t like Quackity was one to talk, not after how much time and resources he’d convinced them to waste on hunting down Techno. 

Tubbo mentally chided himself, it wasn’t Quackity’s fault. They’d all gone along with the plan. But he couldn’t help the anger.

He ignored the little voice in the back of his mind telling him that something else had happened that day- that his compass was fine when they’d left as the Butcher Army, and that by the time he was bandaging up his vice’s newest wound, it wasn’t. 

Now it sat spinning, and spinning, and spinning.

A soft knock at the door pulled his attention away from where he’d gone blurry-eyed staring at the compass. He sighed quietly, pushing himself up from the desk, moving his hair out of his eyes, doing his best to tidy up his appearance and sit with his back as straight as possible. Picture-perfect, he reminded himself. He’s the president, after all. 

“Come in,” he called, doing his best not to let the whirlpool in his chest escape into his voice. 

Thank the fucking stars above , he thought to himself as the person gently opened the door and revealed themself. It’s just Ranboo .

Tubbo let his shoulders fall just slightly, greeting the other with what he hoped wasn’t too miserable of a smile. “Hey Ranboo.” 

“Hey Tubbo,” they returned, moving to curl up in one of the chairs in front of Tubbo’s desk. “I don’t remember seeing you today, you been in here the whole time?”

Tubbo looked down at the stack of papers on his desk that he was supposed to be going through. “Yeah, been busy,” he said, choosing not to mention that he’d only managed to finish three pages since that morning. 

“You had anything to eat today?” Ranboo grabbed a pen off the desk, fiddling with it as he waited for Tubbo’s response. When no response came, Ranboo set the pen down and looked up, setting his gaze just to the right of Tubbo’s own.

“Tubbo,” they started, clearly about to start scolding him for his choices, in that ‘we care about you’ tone that they always used, before his eyes drifted down and caught on the compass. “ Oh .”

“It just- it keeps spinning , Ranboo,” he practically pleaded, what for- he wasn’t sure. “It keeps spinning and it has been for the past three weeks. Surely he’s just in the Nether. Surely. He’s got to be, right?”

Tubbo ignored the way his good eye was tearing up as his head fell into his hands, elbows propped on the desk. He tracked the never-ending movement of the compass, his hands threading carelessly through his hair.

The next thing he knew, Ranboo was beside him, attempting to gently guide his hands away from his head, where they’d began to tug roughly at his hair and horns. He could hardly feel it. Everything was foggy and distant, like a dream just after waking up, slipping like sand through his fingers. His hands curled into his scalp, yanking harder at his hair and horns, trying to pull himself out of the corner his mind had decided to occupy. 

He couldn’t get the image of three missing hearts on a limp wrist out of his head. Someone was breathing rather loudly nearby, and the noise was grating on his senses. He couldn’t see who, his vision completely covered in a blur when he forced his eyes to open, blinking roughly to try and clear it. 

Someone was talking, he realized suddenly, soft words he couldn’t quite make out floating through the air. Hands were holding his arms out in front of him, a firm yet kind grip on his wrists. An odd noise broke the air, Tubbo jumping before his mind could register the source. There must be an enderman nearby, he thought, the first cohesive sentence he could extract from his frazzled brain. His vision was starting to clear as he moved his head to stare at the floor. 

Huh, oak planks. 

Where was he?

As his breath slowed back down and his mind lurched, trying to reconnect himself with his surroundings, sound started to make sense again. 

“You’re in your office, in L’manburg,” the voice was saying. “It’s-”

“Ranboo?” Tubbo’s voice came out smaller than he was expecting it to. “What ha-”

Everything came rushing back to him as his gaze fell back onto the compass.

He stood up suddenly, the movement quick enough to make him dizzy but not enough to convince him to sit back down. “I need to see him,” He decided, grabbing the compass and stumbling towards the door. “I need to see if he’s okay. I know he doesn’t want to see me. I just need to know that he’s not- I need to know if he’s okay.”

“Tubbo, you need to-!” 

“Check on him? Yeah, I do, thanks for agreeing, Ran, now let’s go.”

“At least eat something before leaving?” 

Tubbo sighed. Despite the other’s memory issues, he knew they weren’t going to drop the subject. “Sure, I’ll make a quick stop by the kitchen. But then I’m going.” 

They walked in near silence to the building’s kitchenette, a small room that didn’t see much traffic from the people working inside. Tubbo wrinkled his nose at the mold growing in the far corner of the room. He’d have to get that fixed, he winced, adding it to the rather long mental to-do list he’d make for himself.

After grabbing a couple pieces of steak, more for Ranboo’s peace of mind than anything, he started back out the kitchen, headed for the front door. As he was turning the knob, he turned to look behind himself, where Ranboo was standing, folding their hands together and overall just looking unsure of where they should be. 

“You- you’ve visited him before, right?” 

Ranboo nodded.

“Do you happen to remember the way? I don’t… exactly know how to get there,” Tubbo sheepishly admitted.

“I wrote it down,” they answered, thankfully not mentioning the look of pure embarrassment that Tubbo was sure sat across his face. As Ranboo pulled his book from his inventory, they began walking, Tubbo following just behind. 

He did his best to appear confident, controlled, as they made their way to the server’s shared Nether portal. It was nearly pure torture, keeping his head up and back straight, stifling the slight limp he’d gained after the whole Butcher Army fiasco, resisting his body’s desperate call to simply collapse where he was walking. 

As Ranboo led them both to the portal, stopping every so often to check his book, Tubbo did his best to not let his mind drift. The compass in his hotbar burned on his mind, the spinning of the needle imprinted on the back of his eyelids, haunting him every time he so much as blinked. 

A glint of bright neon green in front of them on the oak path pulled him from the circling thoughts in his head. 

Great, just great, Tubbo refrained from saying aloud. Of course we run into Dream . Ugh.

Tubbo smoothed out the expression he wore, doing his best not to openly share his distrust of the man walking towards them. Diplomatic , he reminded himself. Be diplomatic. As long as you don’t piss him off, L’manburg’s citizens stay safe.

Thankfully, the man walked right past them, a hurried, frantic pace that Tubbo had never seen him use before. He tended to walk slowly, surely, as if his pace did not matter because the very world around him would bend to his will. Dream did not acknowledge them, didn’t stop to make thinly-veiled threats and twist Tubbo’s brain into circles with back-handed compliments like he usually would.

It was… odd . And from the look on Ranboo’s face, he was thinking the same thing. 

Dream had been acting strange the past several weeks, and this was yet another instance of that weird behaviour. He seemed- anxious, is what Tubbo would say if he believed the man was capable of normal player emotions. 

It made him nervous. Whatever was going on with the admin would surely mean trouble, could even possibly mean that his nation’s safety was at risk. He’d have to keep an eye on it, warn the others of what he’d noticed.

But right now he didn’t have the time to worry about whatever the fuck Dream had going on. Not while his compass couldn’t pick a damn direction to point. 

He shook his head when Ranboo turned to him, an unspoken question on their lips. Not now, he signaled. Thankfully, they didn’t push him on it, instead simply leading them into and through the Nether.

Eventually, they came to a stop before an unlit portal surrounded by haphazardly placed netherrack and cobblestone. 

Tommy’s portal. 

They’d crossed a rickety wooden bridge in order to get to it, and Tubbo refused to turn back now, despite the rising fear of whatever he’d find once he went through it. As Ranboo dug through their inventory for a flint and steel, Tubbo stared up at the obsidian rectangle, his eyes catching on the signs placed there.

“Do not enter” one read, “No visitors” said the other. 

Tubbo did his best to ignore the ever-present guilt that surged as he read the signs. Even if Tommy didn’t want to see Tubbo, Tubbo needed to see Tommy. To make sure he was okay. To apologize, if Tommy would let him.

As Tubbo stepped through the nauseating portal, his hand found Ranboo’s. His anxiety was soaring, burning at his throat as he resolutely shut his eyes. 

He didn’t want to see. 

Ranboo led him carefully out of the portal, taking a few steps forward before suddenly stopping in his tracks. At the abrupt halt, Tubbo’s eyes flew open, a gasp escaping him before his mind truly caught onto what he was seeing.

An expanse of decay and rubble greeted them, gunpowder residue coating the air and their lungs as they both tried in vain to breathe in the stale air. The terrain was filled with small craters, each comprised of an assortment of rubble and char, ruins of what might have once been a quaint campsite. 

“What… the fuck happened here?” Tubbo breathed, turning a slow circle to look at everything. 

His heart thrummed in his chest, blood pumping loudly in his ears as his eyes scanned the wreckage. Despite the endless sea of destruction to look at, his eyes froze once he caught sight of a hauntingly one block wide tower that stretched far up into the clouds. He felt his feet move himself forward, towards that lone structure, gazing up at it. He could have sworn his heart stopped completely as he realized he still couldn’t see the top. 

There was no ladder, no scaffolding, no water streaming down the sides of the pillar. The safety of the ocean was too far to have fallen into. The pond nearby was too thin to survive a fall from that height.

And there was only one way down.

“ Surely not.” 

His legs gave out underneath him, a hand grabbing for him just slightly too late as he fell down onto the ground behind him. He couldn’t look away from the wretched tower above him.

“He didn’t- He wouldn’t-!”

There was a warmth against his side as Ranboo grabbed onto him, burying his face into Tubbo’s shoulder, twisting their body as if to try and get Tubbo to look away.

He couldn’t hear a word Ranboo said as they turned the both of them, forcing his gaze to let go of the pillar. As soon as the wretched tower was out of his sight, he crumpled, falling further into Ranboo. He tried not to let his tears reach the other’s skin, burying his face into the red bandana around his neck, his sobs only growing louder as he registered the item in his hand. The same exact bandana that Tommy had given him all those years ago. 

While it usually served as a reminder of his biggest mistake, that guilt and grief- oh void- it was grief- built further now.

All too soon, he ran out of tears, a terribly numb feeling taking over his body and mind as he pulled away from where he’d collapsed into Ranboo’s shoulder.

Tubbo normally prided himself on his ability to hold his own emotions back, to be a steady, reliable figurehead when needed. To lock every last doubt and insecurity and bit of fucking grief away. To be distant, to be numb, to be a thing with no emotional attachments that could get him or the people he loved hurt .

It’d done him well throughout that past two months.

He hated it now.

Damn, he wishes he could just feel again. 

He wished Tommy was here.

<Watching Player: TommyInnit>

To be entirely honest, Tommy didn’t really think sleeping in a nest would be that much different than a regular bed. But holy shit was it nice. These past couple nights have been the best nights of sleep he’d ever gotten, even with the ever-present nightmares. He hadn’t realized how unsafe he’d felt before, simply trying to sleep. And despite the fact that he knew, logically, he wasn’t any more safe in the nest than in a bed, his brain- bird brain?- was rather happy with the change. 

He woke up slowly, for the first time in years, to the smell of something cooking. 

“Goodmorning, kiddo.” Impulse greeted with a soft knock on his bedroom door. “I’ve got breakfast almost ready, you feel up to eating?” 

Tommy sat up slowly, blinking the sleep out of his eyes as he responded. “Yeah, I’ll be-” a yawn cut him off. “Down in a minute!” 

He listened as Impulse called out an “Alrighty!” before walking down the stairs. Tommy sat for a minute, enjoying the warmth and safety of his nest, trying to work up the willpower to leave it. The floor would be cold, and he’d somehow lost his sock, having thrown it at a wall the night before in a moment of anger. 

The texture was suddenly just wrong , okay, can you blame him? 

Okay, he has to get up at some point, might as well do it now. With a rather large sigh, he stood, deciding against changing into different clothes for breakfast. No one had judged him for wearing his pajamas around before, so why worry about it now? (Secretly, Tommy knew that the real reason he didn’t want to change was because these clothes- the softest clothes he’d ever owned- had been made for him , and he wanted to appreciate that as long as he was allowed).

He walked down stairs to find Impulse making his way to the living room, most likely to wake up Tango, who had randomly showed up late last night asking if he could stay the night there. Apparently Doc had insisted that Tango not be alone for the night (A detail Tommy overheard by accident . He wasn’t eavesdropping! The walls are just thin, okay), for reasons that Impulse explained away to him as Tango’s base being “not really the most comfortable to sleep in”. Tommy knew that was bullshit, the way Tango had shown up- reminiscent of the way Tubbo would during Pogtopia, hands shaking, littered with injuries that weren’t there a few days prior, and the clear evidence of tears on his face- proved that enough. 

But he wasn’t gonna call them out on it. 

Impulse threw a pillow at the top of the couch, a sleepy yelp indicating he had hit his target. 

“Wake up Tango, it's morning- well, well into the morning actually. Time to get up.”

“Ya coulda just woken me up like a normal person,” a gravely voice snarked back. “Ya didn’t have to throw something at me!” 

“Get up, breakfast is ready.” 

Tommy had to stifle a laugh at the gesture Tango sent him once Impulse turned his back. When Impulse looked over his shoulder to see what the noise was caused by, Tango simply smiled, an innocent grin that had Impulse turning back around with nothing more than a raised eyebrow. The second his back was turned, Tango repeated the gesture, throwing both of his hands towards Impulse’s back. 

As Tommy struggled to keep from laughing, Tango stood up. The blazeborn moved to join them in the kitchen, though not before taking the time to carefully put in an earring Tommy had seen him wearing consistently ever since he’d met him, for reasons he didn’t know. And from what he’d seen, Tango valued that thing more than his own life. It was just a simple yellow feather, attached to an earring hook, that looked to have several protection enchantments on it (for more reasons he didn’t know), but it clearly had great significance to him.

Breakfast was simple, just eggs and toast, but like every other meal he’d had during his time on this server, it was really good. He didn’t know food could taste this good. 

“Got any plans for today, Toms?” Impulse asked once the dishes were cleared from the table and moved to the sink.

“Might explore outside the cybercity a bit, if that’s alright?” 

“Course it is,” Impulse smiled. “There’s plenty to see around the server, and you’ve got your comm, so just message one of us if you need anything or happen to get a bit lost.” 

Tango nodded from where he was still sat at the table with Tommy. “It’s a big place, so it’s easy to get a bit turned around, but it’s far from boring or dangerous, so just watch out for any dimension rifts and you should be fine.”

“Are you… are you speaking from experience?”

“Yeah, last season was interesting ,” Impulse cut in. “It’s a long story- anyway, feel free to grab some food from the chests for while you’re out, and anything else you want. I’ll be around the cybercity today, if ya need me.”

Tommy just nodded, deciding not to open that particular can of worms as he made his way back upstairs to his room in order to change out of his pajamas. After getting dressed and lacing up his shoe (that a small part of him wanted to ask for a replacement of, considering it had seen much better days), he grabbed the pocket watch Bdubs had given him off of his newly put up shelves so he had some hope of keeping track of time. As a last minute decision, he grabbed the hoodie he’d been gifted as well, carefully maneuvering his wings through the designated holes in the back. It was still a bit odd having his wings out all the time, but he was starting to get used to it. And after being taught how to preen, they weren’t as unbearable to look at anymore. Plus, he couldn’t deny how much more comfortable it was to not have them stuck in his shirt all the time. 

Going back downstairs towards the storage room, where Impulse and Tango had moved, looking over a blueprint on a workstation next to the vault door, Tommy headed for the chest wall. After opening a couple, trying to remember where what he was looking for was, he ran into a chest filled with gunpowder and TNT. He paused for a moment, staring at the TNT. It wasn’t his goal to find it, and he didn’t particularly need it, but the sight of it caused the whispers in the back of his head to awaken. Before he really knew what he was doing, he grabbed a block and threw it into his inventory. 

After glancing back to make sure neither Impulse nor Tango had seen him take the TNT, he kept searching through the chests until he found what he needed, a stack of oak planks, a few of which he turned into sticks. After a short visit to the crafting table, he held a shiny new sword and pickaxe, each made from the diamonds he’d won betting with Tango several nights ago. 

He ignored the muttering in his head that told him he wasn’t supposed to have tools. It was fine. He couldn’t justify the sword very well, but what could he do with a pickaxe that would get him in trouble? 

With his new tools settled into his hotbar, he set off out the vault door, waving a short goodbye to Impulse and Tango before heading towards the south exit of the cybercity. 

As he marched forward, intent on becoming more acquainted with his surroundings, the realization that he’d entered a plains biome came all too late. It was when the whisperings picked up and memories of a similar environment flashed behind his eyes that he paused, that familiar feeling of panic taking hold as he looked out at the field. 

He swore he could hear the ocean where he stood.

The tools in his hotbar weighed heavily on his mind. He wasn’t supposed to have them. He knew that. 

Too long without a reminder, the mutters voiced. And now you’ve forgotten the rules. 

As the whispering continued, his hands slowly pulled the two tools from his inventory. Before he fully knew what he was doing, a one block wide hole in the ground was being dug, his brand new pickaxe and sword falling into it.

Items in the hole, Tommy.

He stared at the tools, knowing what had to come next. 

He pulled the TNT from his inventory along with a flint and steel he couldn’t remember grabbing, placing it before he could psyche himself out, but he couldn’t bring himself to light it.

His surroundings were blurry, only the vague shapes of trees and grass on every side. Suddenly, two- what appeared to be- wings were in front of him, feathers flying as he tried desperately to figure out what was going on, unable to move his eyes from where they were locked on the TNT.

Someone was shouting, but he had no idea who, if they were even there or just another trick his mind was playing.

“Do I have to do everything myself?” A voice asked, sounding all too clear to truly be real. “Just light the fucking TNT, Tommy!”

His hands acted on habit before his brain could catch up with the movement, striking flint and steel together and letting the sparks fall onto the fuse.

Next thing he knew, hands grabbed onto the front of his hoodie and shoved him backwards, just enough to get him away from the explosion but not far enough so that he couldn’t feel it. The heat was overwhelming as the smell of sulfur flooded his senses, just before his body was knocked even farther back, slamming into a tree behind him. 

It took several seconds of disoriented blinking, but the blast and the impact of his body hitting the tree was enough to knock him out of his daze, the world becoming visibly clearer despite the way his ears were still ringing. He tried to stand up only to find an intense wave of dizziness striking him back down.

Rapid pings from his comm pulled his attention sharply away from the rubble and pile of items in front of him. He grabbed the device from off of his belt and pulled up world chat to see rapid messages pouring in, asking, demanding to know what happened. He quickly scrolled up to see what all the commotion was about when-

FalseSymmetry was blown up by Tommyinnit

Oh. Oh Prime-!

No, no no no no no! 

What did he do ? 

No  no no nonono

He needed to run. He had to get out of here before anyone found him. He killed someone- He killed False-! 

The muttering turned to incomprehensible shouts in his ears as he stood up- dizziness be damned- and started to run. He had to get away, get away! His brain was barely able to register where he was, but was thankfully able to at least guide him towards the city, towards the safety of his bunker. He ran back through the walls of the cybercity, heart pounding in his ears as he ducked between the buildings, diving through small alleys to avoid being seen. 

By the time he made it to his garden he could hardly breathe, panic an ocean flooding his lungs as he crashed through the wooden door. 

He tripped over nothing as suddenly everything shifted, the world around him shaking.

Something was breaking through the firewalls. His eyes widened as the stark realization threw him back to his feet.

A cracking sound rang out through the sky as Tommy dove into the well, desperately flipping the trapdoor and falling into his bunker as the sound of the server’s very code snapping bit at his heels.

It was all falling apart, and Tommy could barely focus on the comm still stuck in his shaking hands, he could barely type a word at all. 

Damn his own problems, he had to warn them- had to tell them that someone was trying to break onto the server-!

He stared, terrified, at the message that greeted him on the comm. 

ImpulseSV: Tommy where are you? 

“Yeah, Tommy, where are you?” The words were spoken casually, as if about the weather, but the second he heard that voice speak up from behind him, he froze, paralyzed in place. 

No. 

No no no no no no- 

“What? You think I’d just let you go after that stunt you pulled? Seriously ?” 

The very air in Tommy’s lungs froze, going stale as he found himself unable to breathe. The voice started up again, coming from the corner of the room where he couldn’t see, frozen in place, unable to turn and face it. 

“You left . You left, when you knew you weren’t supposed to, and crawled your way here, where you killed someone . Damn Tommy, and just when I thought you couldn’t do worse .” 

Tommy was frozen in place, unable to breathe, to move, to even think . Everything was so confusing, and too much. He just wanted to go back to his nest.

“Oh, stop crying,” Dream sneered, moving in front of him. “It’s gross.”

Tommy glared at the white porcelain mask in front of his face, trying to urge his legs to just fucking move, Prime damn it!

“Besides, you brought this on yourself, and the rest of the server too.”

As he felt his face scrunch up in confusion, Dream laughed, the sound echoing maddeningly off the walls of the bunker. 

“What? Too caught up in your own self-centeredness that you didn’t think of what would happen to everyone else? Oh, please.” 

Dream scoffed, the sound reverberating through his very bones. Suddenly, his body found the will to move, but not enough to do more than fall backwards, away from where the man stood in front of him. Terror propelled him backwards, into the chests and shelves against the wall, rattling the brewing stands that sat atop them.

There was no sound as Dream stalked steadily towards him, a barely-restrained manic energy to the other’s movements that he’d grown far too familiar with during his time in exile. 

“And to believe you got two people killed,” Dream mocked, his mask up just high enough to showcase a cruel grin. 

“T-two?” Tommy couldn’t keep his hands still, shaking so hard he could swear he was going to fall apart.

“Oh, you don’t know yet?” The maniac tilted his head, a tone of false pity coating his words. “ Shame .”

And suddenly, Tommy knew who he was talking about. As much as he wished he could, he couldn’t ignore the truth.

He covered his ears with his palms, curling his knees into his chest as he tried to shake the terrifying knowledge out of his head. “This isn’t real, you’re not real, you’re not real-!”  He repeated, over and over, trying desperately to convince himself. 

“Are you sure ?” A different voice- no, voices- two, whispered. A cold, almost amused tone that was enough to send a chill down his spine. He had no idea who or what it was, but for some reason, it felt terrifyingly familiar. 

He needed to hide. Laughter- horrid, blood-curling, layered with a thousand voices laughter filled his head, even as he tried to shut it out. He threw open the chest behind himself, allowing himself to turn away for one short, horrifying moment. Glass tinked together as he scrabbled for that tested and tried safety net. 

It took five potions before the effects had even somewhat worked, his hands and a portion of his leg invisible beneath him. As he threw the empty bottles to the side, reaching for more from the chest, he could feel the thousands of eyes staring at him, watching from every corner of the room as he desperately tried to hide. 

Just one more, he promised himself, just one more and you’ll be hidden. Safe . 

Everything was fading around him, broken flashes of color and light greeting him as he kept going, knowing that he was still too visible, too much in danger to pause for even a moment. 

He couldn’t hear Dream anymore, couldn’t see him, but he just knew that he was still there.

Everything was fuzzy, like static had clung to the insides of his bones, a terrible headache pounding at the back of his eyes and trying to break out through his skull. He couldn’t quite feel his hands, or his face, but he was still able to be seen, and that was far worse than anything else. Several times over, he dropped the potion bottle from his hands, unable to see past the blur surrounding him, unable to keep a grip on the glass. It was nearly impossible to pop open the cork, and when he tried to lift the bottle to his lips, the glass slipped, shattering on the floor beneath him. 

He fell with it, his body unable to hold itself up as he crashed face-first into the floor. He was cold.

It was so cold.

He couldn’t breathe, a heavy weight on his chest that wouldn’t budge. Everything was dissolving into flashes of light before him, dots filling what was left of his vision as his very world crashed around him. 

The last thing he could remember was the distant sound of blocks breaking before his vision went dark.

Chapter Text

Reader has joined the game.

<Watching Player: Falsesymmetry>

It was supposed to be an easy, calm day. 

But as False flew steadily over the small plains biome, towards the Cybercity, she registered two things at once- the kid she’d been planning on checking up on, and the TNT held rigidly in his two hands. In an instant, she changed course and dove towards the ground, landing right in front of him. 

“Hey hey hey, Tommy, what’s going on, Kid?” She asked, hoping her voice sounded less frantic than she was. 

Tommy didn’t acknowledge her, didn’t even move, just stared blankly at the block of TNT in his hands. He gave no indication he even knew she was there at all.

“Tommy,” She tried again. “Talk to me, Kiddo, what’s going on?”

He didn’t even blink, a frozen, distant look on his face that barely flickered as she spoke. A hint of terror suddenly broke through the glaze over his eyes, and before she could register what was happening, there was the sound of a flint and steel striking together- the warning hiss of the TNT lighting up kicking her reflexes into overdrive. 

Without thinking, she dove over the explosive block, grabbed the front of Tommy’s hoodie, and threw him as far away as she could manage. 

The last thing she heard was the BOOM of the TNT before blinking her eyes open to the ceiling of her nestroom. 

After several agonizing moments of being unable to move, False forced her limbs to push herself up, trying desperately to get her body to obey her, to get back to where she’d died- where she’d left Tommy. 

A wave of intense dizziness knocked her back down as soon as she tried to get her feet under herself. She crumpled to the floor beside her nest, her limbs pulling themselves to the ground, too heavy for her to pull herself back up on her own. Everything felt slow- as if she was wading through honey blocks trying to even think . 

There was a frantic knock at the door, then a brief pause as the person on the other side waited for a reply. When they didn’t get one in the half-second they waited, they shouldered open the door, rushing into the room and stopping by False’s side. 

As they helped her up from the floor, ushering her back into her nest, her brain finally registered who was here.

“Cleo,” she managed to say. “Help me stand?”

“You know that isn’t a good idea right now,” Cleo gently reprimanded. 

“But, I have to get to him-!”

“No, False, you just respawned, you can’t be getting out of bed yet, it’s not safe.”

“I need to get to him, Cleo!” She cried, cursing as the dizziness of a fresh respawn hit her once again. 

“The others can help him, you can’t get up yet, False.” 

The pinging of her comm pulled her attention from where Cleo was trying (and annoyingly, succeeding) to get her to lay down. Maneuvering so she could pull it out of her jacket pocket without agitating the new burns her respawn was still healing, she pulled up the world chat, heart pounding in her chest.

ImpulseSV: X we cant find him 

Xisumavoid:   im tracking his coords he cant have gone far ill be there in a sec

“They don’t know where he is?” False exasperated, trying once again to push herself upright, only to find Cleo’s arms pushing her back down. “I need to find him-! He could be hurt! He’s probably scared out of his mind- damn it Cleo, let me go! I have to find him!” 

“Suma can find him, and the others will help. You just exploded, False, you cannot get up yet, you will only injure yourself further!” 

She ignored Cleo in favor of staring intently at her comm, awaiting any clue as to where Tommy could be. 

Bdouble0100: doc joe cub we need you in the cyber city

Bdouble0100: now

Bdouble0100: please hurry

False nearly dropped the comm, her hands shaking harder as she read the messages. Doc, Joe, and Cub ? If they needed all three of their best doctors, then-

“He’s really injured?” She asked aloud, though even she could recognize it sounded more like a sob, “But I thought- I thought I got him away from it! I have to go! I need to get to him!” 

“No, False-!”

She didn’t let Cleo finish this time, shoving her friend away from her with more force than she intended, though she didn’t stick around long enough to see her fall against the wall.

She barely heard Cleo calling her name as she flew out the window. 

<Watching Player: Xisumavoid>

It wasn’t unusual for death messages to ping in chat, afterall, the server was filled with a variety of players who were all death prone in their own ways. But it was a bit more rare for those deaths to be caused by other players, and when they were, the chat was immediately filled with mountains of apologies and the hurried promises of ‘be there soon’. For as reckless as his hermits could be, they cared about each other, and that meant making sure that everyone was okay after an accidental death.

So when X first glanced away from his admin screens to see the death message displayed in world chat, it only registered vaguely in his head. Someone must’ve accidentally got False caught up into a trap, and would likely be on their way to her base soon to check on her. Wondering idly who’d caused it, he looked back down at his comm, staring at chat for a moment before the words fully clicked in his sleep-deprived state. 

Falsesymmetry was blown up by TommyInnit

That wasn’t good.

Messages piled in in rapid succession, the rest of the hermits asking for context, clarification, anything on what had just happened. 

Xisumavoid: someone go to false, someone else find tommy

ZombieCleo: ive got false

ImpulseSV: looking for him now

Rendog: i think i heard the explosion ill head in that direction

With the deepest breath he could manage, Xisuma looked back to his admin panel, almost by second nature, running a quick check on False’s respawn, ensuring that it went smoothly before focusing entirely on finding Tommy. Cleo was checking on False in person, so he could focus on making sure the kid was alright as well. 

Tommy randomly killing False- who he’d attached onto so quickly- was an incredibly large cause for concern, and X’s panic only rocketed when he saw the message Impulse had sent a mere second ago. 

They couldn’t find him. They’d found where he should be, but they couldn’t find him .

He quickly typed out a response to Impulse, rushing haphazardly through his base to the door, taking off before his message had even fully gone through.

Xisuma flew over to the Cyber City, rockets rapidly firing behind him, his hand on his comm, searching desperately through strings of code for coordinates while up in the air. He grazed over the tall walls almost immediately after they came into view, touching down in the middle of the city roads near where multiple hermits had already gathered. 

Impulse, Bdubs, Tango, and Zed were running in various directions, all shouting Tommy’s name. As soon as Xisuma’s feet touched land, Zed was by his side, beckoning the others to them. 

“Where is he?” Impulse asked, desperation feeding very clearly into his tone.

“He’s around here,” Xisuma confirmed, still scrolling frustratedly through his server logs at the locations of his players’ comms. Why in the void could he not see his code? Like the flashing of an alarm, his code blinked in and out of view, making the task of locating him all that more difficult.

“Is he okay? Is he injured?” Bdubs cut in, his voice matching the tears that were welling up in his eyes.

“He’s alive.” It was irritating, terrifying even, that that was all he could tell from here. But at least he had a good chance of finding him.

He hadn't thought much of it when he made a new comm for Tommy, but now he couldn't be more grateful that he had. Tracking his player position was still near impossible and attempting to would take time they didn't have. Thankfully, tracking the coordinates of his comm was a lot easier. 

Xisuma could only hope Tommy still had his comm on him and hadn't dropped it when he ran. 

“He’s this way!” he announced as soon as the coordinates revealed themselves to him, running in the direction they were leading him, the others barely a step behind him. The group stopped where the numbers led, a green secluded area in the city, a beautiful little park, but no Tommy.

“He’s not here,” Bdubs choked out, clinging onto Impulse’s arm for stability. 

Xisuma had to pause once more to check the Y level, internally cursing himself for not having bothered to check it before, wasting what could be very valuable seconds. “He’s underground!” 

The next thing he knew they were ripping up blocks of grass and stone, digging underneath the surface, unearthing what appeared to be a bunker of sorts buried underneath the well. They excavated the surrounding blocks as quickly as they could, eventually, finally , making their way to the room Tommy was hiding in. 

Though finding him brought no relief. 

The sight they found nearly made him sick. 

The kid was sprawled on the floor in the farthest corner of the room, just barely conscious, surrounded with countless empty potion bottles. Different parts of his body flickered in and out of visibility, his breathing broken and ragged. His eyes- barely visible from the way he lay on his stomach, cheek pressed into the ground below- were fluttering open and shut in time with the flickering of invisibility across his limbs, a glazed over look that spoke of complete unawareness. 

After a few seconds, the hesitation spurred by horror at what they were seeing broke, Xisuma dropping the floor next to him, Zed doing the same on his other side. Xisuma pulled up his stats via his comm while Zed checked the vitals he could without proper medical equipment.

“He’s overdosed,” Xisuma said, though he knew he was just stating the obvious. The empty bottles and the way his body was struggling to stay in view proved that enough. 

“Gods above, how much did he take? ”

Xisuma tore his eyes away from the kid in front of him, looking up at the three still standing above them. Bdubs was reduced to tears, gut wrenching sobs tearing their way through his body. Impulse was hardly any better, his gaze locked on the kid, his body shaking with the weight of everything. Tango looked just as horrified as they did, doing his best to hold his two friends upright. 

He took a deep breath as he looked at the three, willing himself to be the steady, level-headed leader they needed him to be right now.

“Bdubs,” Xisuma spoke, his voice a gentle but firm command, getting the attention of the distraught man with ‘the Admin tone’ he’d perfected over the years. “Listen, I need you to message Cub, Joe, and Doc. Tell them to meet us here as fast as they can.”

Bdubs started nodding immediately, pulling out his comm with shaky hands, doing his best to push through the sobs to complete the task he’d been given. “Okay- Okay, yeah, I can- I can do that.” 

With that out of the way Xisuma turned back to the problem at hand, having to delve deeper into Tommy’s code than he ever wanted to without permission, just to keep it from blinking itself out of existence. Potion overdoses weren't like normal deaths, instead often accompanied with very glitched respawns, if the victim even respawned at all. No player was meant to digest that much magic, their code simply could not withstand that amount of change all at once. All he knew was that they couldn't risk him respawning. 

He tried his best to shake off the familiarity of the situation.

Zed focused on the physical wounds to the best of his ability, cleaning out the broken glass that had embedded itself into Tommy’s arms and face, trying not to let the kid fall back into the pile of shattered potion bottles where he’d been laying. Xisuma started trying to string his code back together, trying to at least make it make sense, a difficult task on its own, especially since now he could only ever read a part of it at a time. 

Where were the others? Xisuma knew code, he could program with his eyes closed, manipulate the world around him at his will. But too much here was unpredictable, unstable . He couldn’t be the only one holding Tommy’s life in his hands. 

Just as Xisuma started to feel the kid’s life force slipping through his fingers, the sound of rockets announced more players’ arrivals, much to the admin’s relief.

“Oh dear lord-” Cub panted as he landed right next to them, looking a little sick.

Doc wasn’t far behind, cursing harshly under his breath as soon as he caught sight of him. “Potion OD,” He muttered, recognition coating his tone.

It wasn’t a question, but Xisuma nodded anyway, moving to the side to allow the other two to get closer.

“We should move him,” Zedaoh said. “There’s a lot of broken glass here, and the potion that’s spilled on the floor certainly isn’t making this better.” 

The others agreed and swiftly moved the kid into Doc and Cub’s arms, being mindful of the glass that had caught his skin when he presumably fell. 

“Take him to Impulse’s base,” Xisuma directed. “It’s closest and he’ll feel safest in his nest.” 

By the time they’d dragged themselves and Tommy out of the hole in the ground, several other hermits had shown up, all carrying concerned frowns on their faces. Cub and Doc wasted no time in carrying Tommy towards the large building at Impulse’s side of the city, Zedaph trotting not far behind. 

Xisuma had to take a deep breath, knowing he’d have to answer all the questions the others would inevitably have. 

“Is he-?” Impulse choked out. “Is he gonna-?” A sob cut him off, unable to even get the question out. 

Thankfully, Skizz had shown up, saving X from having to respond to a question he didn’t know the answer to. He embraced his best friend, standing as a sturdy pillar for him to lean on. “Of course he’ll be alright,” He said, tone filled with enough conviction to convince a mountain to move if he wished. “You guys have like the best doctors and Admin here, he’s in good hands.” 

Xisuma sent him a grateful look, glad someone else had the words when he failed to. 

With the others (who’d all arrived around the same time)’s help, Xisuma guided their group towards Impulse’s section of the city, heading straight to his main building where his living space was. They moved in a heavy silence, the only sound being the occasional sniffle.

“I encouraged him to build there,” Bdubs started after they got everyone sat down in the family room. “I- I thought it’d be good for him, I didn’t know he’d built- built whatever that was!” He blubbered out, his hands gripping Etho’s arms around him like they were the only thing keeping him tethered to the earth. 

“Not your fault, Bdubs-” Etho tried, doing what little he could to soothe him. 

“But I was supposed to be watching him! He did all this when I was in charge of him! All this time when I was supposed to be caring for him he’s been- been, misusing potions and- and- now he almost died!” 

Xisuma couldn’t help but feel helpless when the only thing he could do was hand them some tissues. 

Not long after they got settled another voice joined them as Joe made his way down to them. 

“Sorry it took me so long,” He said, having to take a second to catch his breath from what X assumed to have been a long and very rushed flight.

“It’s alright, you’re here now,” Xisuma assured, walking towards the stairs, gesturing for Joe to follow him. “Tommy’s in his room, I need your help.”

“Something wrong with his code?” 

He waited until he was sure he was out of earshot from the other players. “Yes, he OD’d-”

“Good god, on what?”

“From what we can tell, Invis. It’s causing his code to hide itself and I need to get it stable and locked in place before it erases itself trying to heal the damage the potions have caused.” 

X opened the door to Tommy’s bedroom to be greeted with a flurry of motion from the three doctors, working in tandem to heal the kid, who lay just outside of his nest, shaking and crying, body parts fading in and out of visibility slower than before.

“T… Tub- bo?” Tommy’s voice was hoarse, cracking and weak as he muttered. Xisuma almost couldn’t make it out from where he stood in the doorway, watching as Tommy blinked open bleary and distant eyes to stare in Zed’s direction, who’d paused his bandaging as soon as he’d heard the broken whisper. The kid muttered something else, a question X could hear but couldn’t quite understand. Zed, however, seemed perfectly able to, judging from the way his face dropped even further than how it had been resting before.

“No, I’m sorry kid, they’re not here.” 

“Oh.” The small word escaped Tommy’s lips, the tone heavy with despair and a strange note of longing. His eyelids had been fluttering closed intermittently throughout the conversation, and soon sank fully shut as he fell back into unconsciousness shortly after. His face contorted in pain even as he slipped from the hardly-there episode of awareness he’d experienced.

His features smoothed out for only a second before scrunching back up, making a high pitched whimper followed by a heaving, choking noise. Zed immediately rolled him onto his side, carefully holding him in place as he twitched and vomited onto the floor. 

As soon as Tommy’s limbs stopped shuddering, limply falling back towards the ground, Cub was next to him, gently sitting him up to pour a cup of milk slowly down his throat, pulling out all the stops to make sure the kid wouldn’t choke. It took a second for Xisuma to remember the powdered milk and antidote they kept in the emergency med kits for if Ta- a situation like this happened again. 

While Cub worked on nullifying the potion effects, Doc pulled a washcloth out of a bucket of water, wringing it out before settling it onto Tommy’s forehead. As Doc pulled back from the kid, he nodded in greeting at X and Joe, extending a silent invitation to help before turning to grab something from the med kit behind him.

Joe and Xisuma pulled up a panel of Tommy’s code, examining the flickering information carefully. 

“It looks like it’s attacking only one part of his main code right now.” Joe observed.

“Let's isolate it first then,” Xisuma decided. “Then we can work on healing only the damaged parts without having to worry about it corrupting anything else.”

He wasn’t sure how long the two of them sat there while the other three worked on his injuries at the surface level before finally being able to get his code to stop trying to disappear. X could only be thankful that Joe was there and had the admin abilities he did, otherwise he wasn’t sure he’d have been able to get it done before all of Tommy’s life code disappeared. They ended up having to rewrite some of it manually, which normally would have been a very last resort, however, given how messed up the kid’s code was in the first place it wasn’t as near as bad as it could have been. Plus it gave them the opportunity to stabilize it more than it was originally. 

While they were examining it, doing double and triple checks to make sure everything was in order as it appeared, all five of their comms went off, pinging a world chat notification. 

ZombieCleo: Just warning you guys, False is on her way, couldn’t get her to stay in bed. She’s close to the city now.

“Well that’s not good,” Joe said, voicing what X is pretty sure the rest of them were feeling.

“I should go talk to her,” Xisuma muttered, hesitant to leave despite the fact that Tommy’s code was now stable.

“We’ve got him, X, “Joe assured. “Go to False, make sure she's not blindsided by all this.” 

Xisuma made it back downstairs just in time to catch False nearly flying through the door. He ended up having to block her from racing up the stairs, needing to explain a few things- and get a few things explained before she saw him. 

“Hey, False, woah, slow down.”

“What’s going on? Where’s Tommy? Is he okay?” 

“He’s safe.” It was simple but it had to be good enough for now. He tried to move to get her to sit down, it’d make this conversation easier and she wasn’t exactly steady on her feet at the moment. But she wouldn’t budge, not moving until he gave her answers. 

“False… what happened? Before you died?” He asked, instead of explaining right away, hoping to get some insight as to what spurred this. 

“I- I don’t really know.” She stammered, her hands moving rapidly as she talked. “Everything happened so fast. I was flying over the plains between Ren’s and here and saw him just standing there with a block of TNT. I didn’t know what to do- I thought he was gonna hurt himself! So I tried talking to him but I don’t think he really knew I was there. And then all of a sudden the TNT lit and I woke up in my base.” 

Unfortunately that left a lot of his questions still unanswered. “Okay, so it wasn’t intentional?”

“No! Of course not! Suma, What happened after I died?” She all but demanded. “I thought I got him far enough away from the TNT- how injured is he? Where’d you find him?” 

He knew there was no point in sugarcoating it for her. She wouldn’t like that anyway, though he did his best to break the news carefully.

“We found him overdosing on invisibility potions.”

False looked downright heartbroken at his words, her face going pale as she staggered where she stood. Disbelief and grief intertwined across her features, pulling her shoulders down as she grabbed onto X’s arm, desperate to stay afloat where she’d gone overboard into the river likely rushing through her head.

“But- but how did he even get that many invis potions?”

“He made a- bunker of sorts underneath the park in Bdubs’ side of the city. He had all kinds of brewing stands and ingredients under there.” 

“ What? But how’d he-?”

“I gave him free access to my storage room,” Impulse spoke, voice quiet and pained, a hollow note accenting the words. “Everything he would have needed is in there.” 

False looked incredibly light headed, either from how recent her respawn was or the news she’d just received, though it was probably a bit of both. Thankfully now she let Xisuma lead her over to a sofa. After sitting her down he pulled out some extra bandages to wrap her few burns from the earlier explosion. 

From there the room sat mostly in silence until Zedaph walked down to them, an overflowing bundle in his hands, and a distressed look on his face. 

“Found these under a loose floor board in his room,” He muttered, as he handed what he’d found to Xisuma.

X opened the bag and felt his heart drop, in it were countless glass bottles- all in varying states of emptiness. They were all very clearly the same potion that the kid had overdosed on not thirty minutes before. But what was most devastating, was the fact that most of the bottles were completely empty , with only the faintest residue of potion left behind, each one closed with a tightly shut cork. Not a single one was entirely full. 

Doc walked downstairs barely a moment after, with a solemn look on his face that X could only hope didn’t mean something grim. 

“He’s stable.” And it felt like the whole room took a collective breath of relief. 

Though as Xisuma looked at Doc, who stood wringing his hands with an almost guilty look on his face, he knew that they weren’t being told everything. 

“What is it?” He searched the other’s face, trying to find whatever it was that was making Doc’s shoulders tense. X ignored the way the rest of the room froze in response to his question, focused entirely on the way Doc kept glancing back and forth from the floor to the glass bottles.

“This has been going on for pretty much as long as he’s been here hasn’t it?” Zedaph asked, an almost nauseous look on his face.

“Longer, I’m afraid,” Doc answered. “Back when I did that medical screening, I saw… rather extensive previous potion usage. I couldn’t tell wh-”

“Wait- You’re saying you knew about this?” False cut in, feathers bristling with anger, voice terrifyingly quiet from where she sat curled into the corner of the couch. A whisper like a knife through the tense silence of the room. 

“I suspected-”
“You knew and you didn’t say anything?” 

“I knew it was a possibility -”

“He’s addicted  to potions!” She yelled, standing up aggressively pointing at Doc who was practically holding his hands up in surrender. “He’s been using for weeks without any of us knowing! He almost died! What if this happened when none of us were around? You know what potion addiction looks like! We would have lost him all because you apparently decided it wasn’t a big deal!” 

“That’s not-” Doc tried to explain.

False however, didn’t give him the chance before turning away from him and rounding on two others. “And how the hell did neither of you notice that he built a fucking drug lab underneath your city?” She spat, her words spewing like dripstone spikes falling from the sky. “You two were supposed to be keeping an eye on him and you just somehow didn’t pick up on the fact he was abusing potions right under your noses!” 

Bdubs curled into himself at her shouts, fresh tears springing from his eyes while Impulse tried to stammer out a response to no avail. Xisuma tried to step in, to stop it from escalating more but couldn’t do much before Skizz, Tango, and Etho jumped in to their friends’ defence. The room grew louder as more and more voices overlapped each other, some spewing accusations, some yelling to stop placing blame, and others just desperately trying to deescalate the situation. 

Xisuma found himself wincing beneath all the noise. He took a deep breath, doing his best to not get overwhelmed. They needed him sturdy, he couldn’t afford to panic right now, despite how overstimulating everything was. He ended up digging his nails into his palms, trying anything to keep himself grounded. He couldn’t even tell who was talking anymore, it was all too much, too loud . 

It took him several more agonizing seconds to get himself to a point where the fuzz that accumulated in his brain cleared enough to pick out people’s voices again. By now there were two major ones he could identify as the loudest of them all: False and Tango. 

“You have no right to blame everyone else when you spent just as much time with him and didn’t notice a damn thing either!” The latter yelled, ignoring Zed who was trying to get him to calm down. 

“Tango-” Xisuma tried, after finally finding his voice again.

“No! She doesn’t get to act like she’s the only one who gives a shit about him!” 

“Of course you’d defend them.” False sneered.

“And what the hell does that mean?” Tango flinched away from where she was pointing at him, his hair and tail flickering.

“Tommy has a potion addiction , and managed to hide it from everyone. Sound familiar, Tango ?” 

“That’s enough ,” Xisuma stepped in, voice firm, intent on moving False away from the situation. Tango didn’t respond anymore, just huddled himself back into the couch and glared, anger now accompanied by what appeared to be shame. Zed, Impulse, and Skizz all moved closer to him, all wearing matching glares aimed at the avian in front of them. “False come on, we’re going outside. You need to take a walk.” 

“I’m fine-”

“No you are not, you need to step out and cool off.” He said, his voice leaving no room for an argument. “You being upset right now is okay. You using someone else's struggles against them is not .” 

Cleo, who must have shown up amidst all the shouting, joined X in front of False. “He’s right. I know you’re scared but throwing around insults and blame isn’t helping anyone. It’s not Bdubs’ fault, it’s not Doc's fault, it’s not Impulse’s fault, it's not your fault. Everyone needs time to calm the fuck down.” 

Xisuma couldn’t even be bothered to correct their language, just overall glad the shouting had stopped. False didn’t say anything else, just stared at the floor, holding her hands to her sides in white-knuckled fists. Though thankfully she didn’t try to fight them anymore when they moved her towards the exit. 

“Hey X,” Cub interjected before they could make it out of the room, standing awkwardly halfway down the stairs, looking out over the group. “He’s asking for you.”

“Me?” Xisuma couldn’t hide the shock in his voice.

“Yeah,” He responded, looking about as confused as Xisuma felt. “He’s out of it, but he asked for you by name .”

“It’s alright, X,” Etho offered. “I’ll go with her and Cleo, you go up to the kid.” 

“You sure?”

Etho stood up, helping Bdubs, who was no longer crying but just staring teary eyed off into space, move more towards Doc, who immediately opened his arms so that he could hold him. “You got him?” Xisuma heard Etho ask quietly.

Doc gave a faint nod, pulling the nearly unresponsive man closer to him. “Yeah, I got him.” 

“I’m sure.” Etho gave Bdubs’ hand one last squeeze before joining Cleo and leading False outside. 

Once that trio was away, Xisuma took a moment before going up to Tommy to check in on the blazeborn who was sitting with his arms tensely across his chest like a shield.

“Tango, you alright?”

“I’m fine.”

“Tan-”

“I said I’m fine!” He snapped and X let it drop there, he’d talk to him later if need be. It was probably best to just let tempers settle before they tried having any in depth conversations.

For now he just followed Cub, who waited until they were out of earshot of the others before starting to talk in a quiet but anxious tone.

“He’s stable enough we felt okay moving him back into his nest, but he’ll need someone keeping watch at all times for the next several days. Joe’s still with him right now, but-” Cub took a deep breath, looking back to the end of the hall where the door to Tommy’s room remained shut, and hushed his voice even further. “God, X, he took a lot of invis. I think his body’s so used to it at this point that it’s not responding to it naturally anymore.” 

Xisuma nodded along as Cub spoke, the movement, although small, taking far too much energy.

“These next few weeks are going to be very rough for him. We can’t risk giving him any potion at all- I mean you saw his code-”

“Yeah I know, it’s too weak to handle anything like that right now.” 

Cub continued on, only vaguely acknowledging the interruption with a nod. “He’s incredibly out of it right now, and fuck, I don’t think he even really knows where he is. But he asked for you,” he paused, letting the weight of the words sink in. “Seemed scared of something, downright terrified. I think he was trying to climb out of his nest, but with how weak he is, he can barely lift his head.”

“Okay,” He breathed, taking in all the information and scanning the man next to him taking note of the anxiety that was riddling him. Xisuma opened his arms a little. An invitation, one the near shaking man took almost immediately. X didn’t really have the words right now to comfort him but to his relief he looked much more steady after they let go. “Thank you, Cub. Go rest a bit, I’ll take first shift sitting with him.” 

Cub just gave him a tired nod before making his way back downstairs. 

X did not watch him leave for long, immediately turning towards the door at the end of the hall and quickly moving to open it. As gently as he could, he pushed into the room, looking at the freshly cleaned floor where Joe sat next to Tommy’s nest, whispering words he could barely make out. 

“He’s here, it’s okay, no one’s hurt, promise,” he was whispering to Tommy as Xisuma slowly knelt down beside him. “Everyone’s okay, kid. Everyone’s alive.” 

Tommy’s forehead was covered in a damp washcloth, his face was pale and flushed, a fever clearly plaguing him. Joe carefully replaced the towel with another from the bucket beside his nest, wringing it out gently as Tommy’s eyes focused towards the newcomer.

“...’M sss-” It was such a quiet noise that X could hardly hear it, despite being right next to the kid. “Sor- ry.” He was looking directly at him, shivering harshly, clinging onto consciousness with a desperation that X wished to never have to see again. Tommy’s gaze was locked onto him, even as his eyelids twitched and tried to pull themselves down. Xisuma knew the kid was afraid of him, so the fear in his gaze was expected, but no less despairing, although it appeared a mere shadow in the face of the downright sorrow in Tommy’s eyes. 

Pure remorse filled his gaze, locked unmovingly onto X, despite the clear struggle Tommy had with keeping his eyes open. He couldn’t shake the feeling that Tommy was apologizing for something entirely unrelated to the events of today. 

“I forgive you.” And while Xisuma didn’t know what he was forgiving him for or why Tommy looked so distraught, he could forgive anything if it meant getting that look off of his face. Without thinking, he gently grabbed Tommy’s hand, habitually running his thumb over the top of it, the same way he’d comfort any of his other hermits. To his surprise, Tommy didn't flinch away, instead giving him a weak squeeze in return. 

With his free hand, Xisuma pulled one of the discs that had been displayed in the kids room off the shelf, handing it to Joe so he could carefully insert it into the juke box nearby. As the music played, Tommy visibly relaxed, not by much, but it was better than nothing. 

“You’re okay,” Xisuma whispered. “Get some sleep, kid, you’re alright, you’re safe.” 

Thankfully, after several more seconds of Tommy fighting to keep his eyes open, he drifted back into unconsciousness. 

Chapter Text

Reader has joined the game. 

<Watching Player: FalseSymmetry>

She didn’t know where Cleo and Etho were leading her, though she couldn’t find it in herself to pay attention- nor did she care enough to ask them. Her chest burned, like there was a fire boiling the sea of emotions currently rolling through her. 

They ended up in a wooded area north of Xisuma’s industrial district, Cleo just ahead of them, already cutting down trees to make a clearing. What for, False had no clue.

As Cleo wordlessly chopped the trees, Etho placed a crafting table and a chair to the side of the circle, before using some dirt to outline the clearing. He moved the chair behind the dirt ring, on top of another block for visibility before huddling over the crafting bench. All while Cleo finished putting away the newly downed tree logs into her inventory, sitting down in the chair once she’d finished.

Neither said a word as they worked.

After a few seconds of Etho messing with the crafting table, he shed his diamond gear and threw a wooden sword down at False’s feet.

“Pick up the sword-”

“I’m not in the mood to spar, Etho.”

“Pick up the sword, False.”

With a disgruntled sigh she leaned down for the weapon.  

The hilt of the sword fit naturally in her hand. Fine. This was familiar. This she could do. 

“Wooden swords? You wanting this to hurt, Etho? Haven’t gotten enough of that lately?” A poor attempt at stinging mockery. She wanted to spew toxicity until she couldn’t afford to care; redirect the fire somewhere else. Part of her wanted it to be thrown right back at her. She’d deserve it after all. They’d given her too much grace already, letting her walk away after the last confrontation.

Etho wasn’t even a little phased by her comment. She was raised for her fists, not her words. “Don’t wanna risk you dying so close to your last respawn. We fight to two hearts, or a pin. Whichever comes first.” 

Normally, False would wait, hold back until her duel partner swung first. Today was anything but normal, though. 

The wooden sword came down on Etho’s shoulder hard and fast, catching him in the middle of his dodge. He swung back at her, managing to nick her side just slightly before she jumped back, her wings flaring out subconsciously. 

She swore she could hear her heart beating, her blood pumping, the ground underneath her feet rumbling in time to her swings. Everything outside of the fight faded out, her focus locked onto Etho and his every move, knowing that this was her only adversary in this battle. Normally, she wouldn’t let her surroundings fall into the background. But today wasn’t normal. 

The fight was nothing extraordinary, nothing she hadn’t done before, but still, it engulfed her entire mind, took her focus away from everything else, and she was almost disappointed when it ended.

She had Etho pinned, sword sticking into the ground mere inches away from his face. Her legs held his arms trapped to his sides, her left arm pressed against his throat. They stayed like that for a few moments, both having to catch their breath. 

Her muscles started to twitch, weakening her grip.

What had shielded itself as anger broke through the barriers she’d carefully built a long time ago in another life. Same ones she’d swiftly reconstructed the moment everything started to crumble. Though it seemed, they weren’t near as strong as they once were. Whether that was good or bad, she didn’t have the energy to ponder.

She collapsed on the ground next to him, her hand falling away from her sword. Emotions bubbled their way up to the surface. Sobs forced themselves out before she could put in the effort to stop them. Next thing she knew, she found herself leaning against Cleo as tears clouded her vision.

Etho sat himself up as another familiar set of arms wrapped themselves around her. She had no idea when Ren showed up, but she was grateful he had. Her body trembled with the weight of her cries. The events of today didn’t feel real, like some awful dream she’d desperately like to wake up from. How could so much have gone wrong all at once? 

The three of them held her until the world started feeling solid beneath her again. She stayed in their arms, allowing herself to be comforted for the moment. The day's difficulty was far from over, especially considering the fires she had a hand in lighting. But for now, just for this moment, until they pushed her off, she could lean on them. 

Of course, that never came, none of them moved until she did.

Part of her wanted to stay with them, just like this for the next several hours. But she needed to get back to Tommy, especially considering she hadn’t even gotten to see him before she’d been forced out. Though bitter as she was about that, she knew it was understandable. She needed to see him, but first, “I-I need to go apologize.” 

Cleo gave a harsh laugh, “Ya think? I’d say that's putting it lightly.”

She grimaced at the call out but didn’t say anything else. She stood up, roughly wiping the dirt from the spar off of her trousers, having to grip Etho’s arm to keep from falling over, dizziness she thought had passed hitting her once again. Ren situated himself on her left, putting his arms under hers to keep her upright. Etho did the same on her right, and they began wordlessly back towards the CyberCity.  

Her heart thrummed a little faster in her chest as they approached the entrance to Impulse’s living building. Guilt wrung her stomach in knots, making nausea bubble up in the back of her throat.

No point in avoiding it. She never was a fan of taking the cowards way out, no matter how tempting it might seem now. The urge to avoid the faces of everyone she needed to apologize to was strong. But that wouldn’t do, they deserved better than that. 

Just start with one. It’s not like she can make it worse.

She found Doc in a small room branched off the main sitting area, though he wasn’t alone. Huddled in the back corner was Zedaph with his head buried in his knees, his horns peaking out the side just barely. Doc didn’t even seem to notice her presence at first, so focused on trying to get the hyperventilating ram in his arms to breathe. It was then she remembered who was first on scene both times someone on their server had overdosed. It seemed he crashed sometime after everything calmed down.

“It’s okay,” Doc assured him, for what False was sure wasn't the first time. “You got to him quickly enough, you did good, he’s okay.”

“B- but-but he could have- He almost did-!”

“He could have, but he didn’t. You got there in time, he’s safe. He’s alive. He’s gonna be just fine, Zed. You did good, it's okay.”

If the words were getting through to him she couldn’t tell, Zedaph’s breathing didn’t slow and neither did the sobs tearing their way through his body. 

False froze in the doorway.

She needed to talk to Doc, get what better be a damn good explanation for the information he held back. But after several seconds of her contemplating what to do next she realized that that could wait. Tommy was okay, he was going to be okay. She could wait until everyone else was at least a little more steady before doing so. She was not pulling him away from Zed right now (nor was she going to make Zed sit through what has a pretty good chance of being a tense conversation). 

She simply sent Doc a look, a simple message, a mild threat: Later. Thankfully he seemed to understand what she meant, and replied with a simple nod before turning back to Zed, murmuring words of comfort in Ramspeak that she couldn’t understand.

She didn’t stay there much longer, heading back towards the living room where several people were sitting, needing to speak to two of them in particular. 

Bdubs was sitting in between Cleo and Etho, scarily quiet, simply staring off into space. Impulse didn’t look much better, shaky hands trying to hold onto a steaming mug that he didn’t look interested in drinking. A few others fluttered about, Grian and Pearl making tea and keeping the place tidy, Gem and Cub fiddling with a projector trying to get a movie set up. An attempt at a distraction. Similar to Scar who was talking animatedly to Keralis about his zoo plans, careful to keep his voice moderate even while trying to keep the mood up. The pair tried a few times to get Bdubs or Impulse to join into the conversation, but no luck. 

False took a deep breath, steeling herself for the interaction before walking up to the two of them. The room hushed a bit as she approached, no one said anything but she knew they were listening, understandably wary of how this would go. She walked up to Impulse first, taking a seat across from him and trying to ignore the eyes she knew were on her back. 

“I’m sorry,” She started, because where else would she? Her words fell out in almost panicked rambles. “It wasn’t your fault at all, You didn’t deserve any of that, I’m sorry-”

“It’s fine.” He wasn’t looking at her.

“It’s not- you don’t just have to brush this off, Impulse.”

“It’s fine.”

“But-”

“Please, False. Just let it be fine. I just- I don’t want to deal with it anymore.”

“Oh, okay.” She murmured, unsure of how to continue from here.

She could handle it if they yelled at her like she thought they would. But dismissal? She didn’t know what to do with that. She’d rather they yell at her, tell her off for everything she did wrong. At least then she’d have a direction to go, instead of feeling stuck in limbo.

She turned to Bdubs, but before she could begin, he spoke- words cold, hollow, almost harsh. “Tango’s in the kitchen with Skizz,” was all he felt the need to say. A simple statement, but she heard the order beneath it.

The floor felt unsteady beneath her boots as she went to stand. The walk to the kitchen felt agonizingly long despite being only a few blocks away.

She rounded the corner into the kitchen slowly, pausing outside the door as she watched Skizz hand Tango a mug, leaning against the counter across from the bar stool the other sat on. 

Skizz seemed to be trying to distract him, though she didn’t quite hear what he was saying, just the silence that followed as Skizz noticed her.

As soon as she crossed the threshold of the room, Tango’s eyes snapped up.

“I need to apolog-”

She couldn’t even get the words out before he cut her off. “I don’t want to hear it,” He spat, turning his eyes back down towards his mug.

“Tango, can I-?”

“Go away.” 

“Please, I just-”

“Go. Away.” He gripped the mug tighter, resolutely turned away from her.

After several awkward silent seconds of False trying to figure out how to make reparations when her apologies didn’t want to be heard, Skizz piped up. “I think it's best if you go, False.” She couldn’t lie, the words stung, especially coming from someone as positive and easy-going as Skizz, but it wasn’t like she didn’t deserve it. “Enough damage has been done for today, let's not push it anymore.”

“Okay,” She breathed, shoving down the hurt at the, well earned, rejection. She didn’t know what else she could possibly say, so she turned to leave. It was okay, he just needed space. That was fair, completely understandable. She wasn't entitled to his forgiveness. To any of their forgiveness actually. They’d mend what she broke eventually, they were a family, they always did. No matter what happened they worked it out. It’d be okay. She didn’t break them completely, she hasn’t ruined her family, she didn’t- They’ll be okay they’ll-

She cut her thoughts off, practiced ease helping her put a block where her feelings wanted to run free.

No point in spiraling now. Especially not over reasonable consequences to her own actions.

She’d made the apologies she could. The others will come later, she’ll get a chance to give them later, she will. Now, she had a kid she needed to see. 

She practically flew up to the second floor, the walls the only thing keeping her from opening her wings and actually doing so.

Joe met her in the hallway with a soft greeting the second her feet hit the top of the stairs. “He’s asleep at the moment, Suma’s in there with him. Though I think our admin might be close to following him,” He said the last part with a quiet laugh. “I’m gonna head down to the others, message if you need anything.”

“Thanks Joe, I will.” 

He placed a hand on her shoulder, giving a slight squeeze before making his way down the stairs. She took a shaky breath after he was gone, mentally preparing herself the best she could for what would be waiting behind that door. When she finally worked up the courage, she pushed Tommy’s bedroom door open, careful to make it as quiet as she could. 

Xisuma sat just outside of Tommy’s nest, leaning against the walls of it to support himself, exhaustion very clearly having made a home in his bones. He moved slightly as she made her way in, in what was probably an attempt at quiet greeting. That’s when she noticed Xisuma’s gloved hand being held tightly by Tommy’s, who- even in his unconscious state- was tightening his grip whenever X would just barely move.  

“He’s not letting you go is he?” She whispered, a bit amused as she sat down on the floor across from them, leaning against the wall as the adrenaline from earlier started to crash. 

“No,” He muttered, being cut off by a yawn. “I think I’m stuck here for the time being.”

“Well it wouldn’t be the first time you’ve been stuck cause a hermit’s fallen asleep on you.”

He chuckled softly, “No, far from the first time actually. Especially if we include all the times you guys bribed Mumbo into pretending he had a nightmare to trick me into sleeping.”  

She gave him a playful scoff, “I don’t know what you’re talking about. We’d never do such a thing.”

“Uh huh, sure.”

 The next several minutes were spent in silence as False allowed herself to get a good look at the kid sleeping restlessly in his nest. It was hard to believe this was the same kid she’d seen just the night before. He was pale as a ghost, shivering even beneath the mountain of blankets the others had wrapped him in. He looked so small. So vulnerable. His cheeks were sunken in, his breathing coming in harsh shallow breaths. 

A blink of an eye and he’s doing even worse than when she’d first met him. 

“False,” Xisuma muttered, and that was all it took for the events of today to overwhelm her again.

“He was doing so good.” She choked out, doing her best to keep her cries quiet enough to not disturb Tommy. After everything, when they’d all started being more hopeful, it all collapsed again. This never would have happened if she had gotten to him sooner. If she just thought more about what to do when she saw him standing there with the TNT, she could have ripped it from his hands, or gotten the both of them away from it so she hadn’t left him alone. Or if she had just noticed the signs of his addiction for what they were. But she didn’t, she failed him and then turned it around on everyone else cause she wasn’t strong enough to handle it. It wasn’t fair. None of it was. Tommy was a kid, he shouldn’t have to be dealing with any of this. The others didn’t deserve her harsh words or accusations and yet she attacked them with it anyway. 

She didn’t think there was any way she could have messed up more. 

“I thought he was doing so good,” She repeated, for lack of something else to say. He was doing good, better at least, wasn't he? Surely she hadn’t completely misread it.

“I know.” Xisuma responded, his eyebrows cinching in concern. “But we got him there once, he’ll get there again.”

“But was he? Or was that just stupid wishful thinking-?”

“He was, a lot of people saw it. He was doing better. Even now, we haven't lost. The battle isn’t over, False. It's just a setback.”

She gave a humorless laugh, “Pretty big setback.”

“Yeah, yeah it is. And it won’t be the last, especially now that we’re gonna have to rehab him the best we can. But he’ll get through it, we will all get through it.”

She had to believe him, what else did she have if she didn’t? 

She didn’t know exactly how much time had passed, just enough for the sunlight to start disappearing from the window before the door opened. In walked Cleo, armed with a blanket and what appeared to be an ongoing sewing project. Without saying anything she sat down next to False, and wrapped her in said blanket before she could get a chance to fight it.

“Hey, what's this for?” She murmured, careful to keep her voice down so as to not disturb X who, as predicted, fell asleep, his arm still being held hostage by the thankfully, still sleeping, Tommy.

“Payback,” Cleo whispered back, getting comfortable and seemingly trying to tuck False up in the blanket like a baby bird. 

“Payback for what?”

“Throwing me against the wall earlier.”

“Oh. Sorry about that, Cleo.” 

Cleo simply hushed her, pulling her closer into a laying position, “No need for sorries, I’m just gonna make you rest, then we’ll call it even.”

False laughed a bit and sunk into her friend's side. Her body ached, the consequences of not allowing herself to recover after the respawn had settled in. Rest did sound really nice. “Alrighty, I won’t fight you this time.”

“Good, cause unlike Etho, you won’t beat me.”

“You keep telling yourself that, Cleo.”

“Go to sleep, False.”

<Watching Player: ImpulseSV>

The morning after was worse, in Impulse’s opinion. No one had truly slept the night before, and what little sleep they did manage was plagued by nightmares. 

When he woke up, for a split second he thought maybe it had all been some terrible dream. But the sight of nearly every hermit scattered about his living space, every couch and inch of floor being used to sleep, was enough to remind him of the reality of it all. 

Every hermit had volunteered to help after they heard what happened. They fell into an easy routine, making a schedule to have two people sitting with Tommy, careful to make sure he knew (and was on good terms with) at least one of them. People who weren’t on shift were all doing other chores to make their lives easier. Some prepping food for everyone else, some keeping the living space tidy and well- livable, some going around the server and removing easily accessible brewing stands and potion ingredients (Tommy wouldn’t be able to freely roam the server for a while but it was better to get it out of the way now), and some were simply acting as supports for the others to lean on. They also made sure there was at least one “doctor” in his base at all times (i.e. one of the hermits with the most medical training) along with someone with admin training should his code freak out again. Tommy had been stable since yesterday, but they weren't taking any chances.

Overnight, Impulse’s base had become a very communal area. He wasn't complaining though. Funnily enough, having more people there made it easier to not get overwhelmed. As painful as everything was at the moment, having all of them, their family, working in tandem like it was a practiced performance made everything a bit easier. They’d done this dance before, several times in fact when they needed all hands on deck in order to get through something. Though it wasn’t always for something this devastating. 

Impulse assigned himself for the first shift that morning, doing his best to avoid the worried looks from his family members. A few looked like they wanted to argue against it but thankfully the only response he got was Scar offering to sit with him.

Keralis, Xb, and Beef were the ones in the kitchen, cooking up a large breakfast of what smelled like eggs, bacon and pancakes for everyone. Xisuma sat at the dining table, a mug of tea next to him with his admin screens pulled up via his comm, doing work even at the early hour. The others milled about doing various tasks, a few helping to serve and set the breakfast table once food was done. 

It’d been a long while since they all sat and had breakfast together. It'd be really nice if it was under different circumstances. Several people fell into easy conversation as they ate, talking and jesting with each other like it was any other day. Impulse couldn’t find it in himself to contribute to the conversation, instead focusing his attention on desperately trying to stomach the food in front of him. They had really good food on the server, those who could cook without burning something down were great at the craft. Though today, everything felt bland on his tongue. 

As the conversations lulled and the table began getting cleared Scar announced, voice as jolly as ever, “Well, breakfast was ah-mazing guys! Though I do think it's about time we go relieve Joe and Cleo, I bet they’re exhausted.” He moved from the table with a steady smile on his face, stopping just in front of Impulse. “You coming?” He asked, voice quieter, eyes scanning his face like he was looking for any signs of doubt. 

Impulse didn’t give him a chance to see any, nodding immediately and leading the way upstairs. 

They opened Tommy’s bedroom door to find the kid seemingly sleeping soundly in his nest; Cleo and Joe rested against the other pillows and blankets that had been brought up to make the space a bit more cozy for those on watch. 

“Hey,” Cleo greeted softly. “You guys here to take over for us?”

In lieu of an answer, Impulse simply asked, “How’s he been?”

Cleo frowned, “Well, not great, to be entirely honest. He woke up a few times last night, he didn’t know where he was, called out a few names that we really only understood a few of.”

“Physically he honestly could be much worse,” Joe added. “I think his fever is looking to break, which is a good sign. Late last night we had to take all of his blankets off cause his temperature just wouldn’t go down. Poor kid was shivering like a leaf in a windstorm.” 

“He hasn’t woken up again this morning, though as it turns out, the kid sleep talks. Like a lot. A bunch of random stuff that we have no clue as to the meaning of.”

“Anything super concerning?”

“Anything more concerning than what we’ve already heard from him? Debatable. But like I said, most of it isn’t very coherent.” 

“Although those swears he threw at me when I had to move him back to his nest after he tried to crawl out were definitely coherent. You’d think the kid was raised by Doc.”

“Alright, thank you guys, go get some rest.”

“Will do, I’m about to steal one of the couches. Good luck you two, call if you need anything.” 

As the two of them left, Scar took no time making himself comfy and pulling out a deck of playing cards. “Figured we could use this to pass the time.” 

Impulse didn’t respond, just sat down across from him and let him deal out the cards. Scar was trying to explain a new game to him that he and Cub had recently come up with, but he just couldn’t find it in himself to pay attention. He was having a really hard time pulling his focus away from the kid laying in the nest. 

Tommy had never looked so small. Not even when he’d found him hiding and injured behind his chests. It was hard to believe this was the same kid who was smiling and laughing at breakfast the day before.

“Impulse, if this is too much for you right now, you can walk away,” Scar told him when he’d failed to respond to something he’d asked. “No one is gonna blame you if you need a break.” 

“No it's- I’m fine. Just- worried about him is all.” 

Scar did not look convinced in the slightest but thankfully let the topic fall there. He was fine. He was fine. 

It took all of what little energy he had, but he managed to focus on the rules his friend was attempting to explain. If only to keep the worried questions at a minimum. 

As he moved to draw a card from the deck, movement in the corner of his eye caught his attention. 

Tommy’s arm had suddenly shot out of his nest, trembling hand stretching out towards something. 

Impulse felt his heart stop as he realized what Tommy was trying to reach for. That same floor board he just had to fix after they cleared out the- the stash that was beneath it.

When his nails only scraped along sturdy hardwood flooring, his face scrunched up, a desperate keening whine building as he continued to paw heavy-handedly at the floor. The whines quickly turned into cries, Tommy now a shaking, crying mess in his nest- a violently afraid and defeated expression rapidly taking over his features.

For a long moment, he could only stare, feeling lost and out of place by the kid’s nest.

Finally, Impulse broke from his scared stupor, leaning down in order to get closer to him. He lifted Tommy’s wrist away from the floor as he tried desperately to soothe him. “Hey Kiddo, it's okay, hey, it's okay, you’re okay,” He tried, though the words came out more like a plea. His reassurances weren’t working, Tommy’s scared trembling didn’t stop, his eyes fluttering like they were too heavy for him to keep them open for long. Impulse reached over him, grabbing one of his stuffed animals- the cow he’d gotten so attached to. He put it in Tommy’s arms, the kid wrapping them around the plush like it was instinctual, gripping it like a lifeline. With Scar’s help, Impulse pulled both his green and his weighted blanket over him, softly running his hand through his hair, desperately trying to lull him back to sleep. 

Eventually, Tommy’s shaky breaths slowed, and while the tears didn’t stop falling, he at least went back to sleep. 

The second the room was peaceful again Impulse felt something in his chest break. It was too much, too raw, too familiar- How could this be happening again? How could he have let someone he cared about get this bad again? He wasn’t strong enough for this, all he needed to do was be there for Tommy and yet doing so felt like he was staring down the business end of a sword without any armour. 

“Impulse,” Scar started, the firm but kind voice startling him out of his thoughts. “Go, go take a break. I can call Pearl, she was gonna come next shift anyway. Go sit with Skizz, or Tango just- take a break, get your head cleared.”

“But-”
“You aren’t abandoning him, okay, to be honest, Tommy doesn’t even know you're here right now. You’ll come sit with him later, for now, go somewhere you can breathe.” 

As much as he hated it, he knew Scar was right. The air in the room was too thick, too much to force through his tight chest, heavy with the weight of what it was they were dealing with. He wasn’t doing any good for Tommy sitting here on the verge of a breakdown. 

He stood on trembling legs as Scar started typing on his comm, probably to call Pearl to come take over for him. He left quickly, not glancing back at Tommy, knowing if he hesitated for another moment he wouldn’t be able to get himself to leave.

The hallway had never felt smaller, like the walls were moving in, threatening to swallow him whole. The world was fuzzy, chatter from downstairs running as static through his ears. Everything ached like his bones suddenly weren't strong enough to hold his weight against gravity.

He very nearly ran into Grian, not noticing his presence until the avian jumped out of the way with a surprised chirp. “Hey, Impulse,” he greeted, eyebrows cinched in concern, head cocked slightly to the side. “You alright?”

Unsure of how in the world to answer that, he simply nodded, a gesture that felt empty. “Where’s Tango?” He asked instead of continuing the conversation. 

“I think he went down to the storage room, but are you sure you’re-?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” He answered quickly, the words sounding fake even in his own ears. Grian’s concern did not falter but Impulse didn’t stay around long enough for him to ask anything else, heading straight to his chest room without another word. 

He found Tango at the back of the room, sitting with his back to the wall, knees by his chest, staring blankly at the rest of the room.

“What's wrong?” Impulse asked carefully, though he was pretty sure he already knew the answer. 

Tango startled a bit. “I mean, that's a bit of a loaded question, does “everything” work?” He laughed, a strained noise that sounded more like a sob. “Zed’s all shakey, Bdubs will hardly speak, and you and Doc have that look in your eyes again. Just- I-. Seeing it from this side of things- Gods I'm so sorry, Impy.”

He buried his head in his knees, shoulder shaking slightly as Impulse sat on the floor next to him, taking a deep breath to keep himself steady. “You were sick, Tango. And trust me, finding you like that was… difficult.” -especially for Zed, who dealt with night terrors followed by panic attacks for weeks after, but he didn’t need to mention that to Tango- “But I would much rather that over- the other option. It was terrifying, but it led to us actually being able to help you. You don’t have to be sorry for that. I forgive you, if that's what you need. But you don’t have to be sorry.” 

“But it wasn't just that,” He muttered, staring almost angrily at his hands. “I made your lives hell afterwards too. I may not remember all of what I did while you guys were recoverificating me, but based on what I do, I can say for sure I didn’t make it easy on you guys.”

“It wasn’t easy,” Impulse admitted. “But, to be fair to yourself, Tango. We had to cold turkey you off a substance you'd been dependent on for years.” He didn’t miss the slight flinch from the other. “And we kept you in lock down with 24/7 supervision for a long while. I don't think anyone would be happy to be in that situation.”

“Still, I’m sorry for putting you guys through that.” 

Impulse reached down to squeeze Tango’s hand. “I'm sorry too.” He muttered, softly knocking their shoulders together. “That we didn't notice before it reached the level it did.”

Tango squeezed his hand back. “You didn't notice because I didn't want you to notice. And the same goes for Tommy. When you've been using that long you get pretty damn good at hiding it. So don’t be blaming yourself cause you didn’t see it, no one did.”

After several moments of comfortable silence, Tango spoke up again. “What I do know is, the kid’s gonna have a pretty rough several weeks ahead of him.”

“Yeah, he is. Lets just hope Tommy doesn’t end up breaking any of our noses.”

“Yeah lets hope-” Tango’s eyes widened almost comically after a few seconds of him processing what was said. “Wait-! did I-?”

Impulse managed a laugh, “Did we never tell you about that? Yeah ya did, it was honestly kinda impressive, given how out of it you were.”

“Oh my gods, who’s?” 

“Doc’s. Ya got a good swing on him while he was trying to keep ya in bed.”

“Oh. Well, that’s fine, it’s Doc. He probably deserved it.”

The room felt a bit lighter as Tango let his head fall against Impulse’s shoulder. “Yeah, yeah he probably did.”

The two sat in comfortable silence for a while, neither giving any indication of intent to move. Eventually the sound of hoof and foot steps brought their attention to Skizz and Zed, who quickly made their way into the room. The latter immediately trotting to Tango's side, who gave a light laugh as Zed wrapped his arms around him and cuddled him like a pillow. Skizz sat next to Impulse, wrapping an arm around his shoulder, pushing them all closer together. 

“Ya know we could do this somewhere other than the hardwood floor,” Impulse quipped, no real annoyance in his words. 

“I’m quite comfy,” Zed shot back.

“Of course you are, you’re practically laying on top of me,” Tango laughed. 

“Uh huh. And I’m not moving.” 

Tango’s expression faltered slightly, sadness creeping its way back onto his face. “I’m okay, Zed,” He whispered, hugging him with his free arm. 

“I know,” the ram whispered back, voice small. “I know that. I just… don’t wanna move.”

And so they didn’t, comfortable in each other's arms- they could sit still for a while. 

<Watching Player: Pearlescentmoon>

A buzzing from her comm interrupted her thinking, the sudden noise sending her pencil skidding across her blueprint page, startling False- who sat across from her at the kitchen table- in turn. 

A quick glance at the screen let her know an incoming call was the culprit.

“Hey Scar, what’s going on?” She asked, moving the comm to sit on her shoulder as she erased the stray pencil mark.

“Impulse is headed down, would you be up to starting your shift early?”

“Yeah that’s no problem at all. Is he alright?”

“Well- no. Definitely not, but I don’t think we can really expect him to be at this point.”

“Yeah… Okay, let me refresh my tea and I’ll be up there.”  

She grabbed the near-forgotten mug after ending the call, bringing it over to the sink to rinse out the old tea. 

As she refilled the kettle with fresh water and set it to heat up, Ren walked into the kitchen, nodding to her once before sitting across from False at the table. 

He’d likely overheard her call. Pearl was glad it meant that someone would still be with False when she left. 

She’d come to the dining room earlier on purpose, since no one else had come to keep False company because most everyone else was just trying to ignore the events of yesterday or give False some space. Which Pearl could understand to an extent, but she also knew better than most how troubling it was to be separated from flockmates- especially when something bad happened. She didn’t want to leave her to spiral all alone. 

With the assurance that False wouldn’t be left by herself, Pearl poured herself a new cup of tea and set off upstairs. She could come back to her blueprints later. 

“Hey again, Scar,” she greeted as the door creaked open. 

“Hey again, Pearl, welcome up!” 

“How long are you on shift for?” She asked, already knowing the answer from how many times Cub had gone over the schedule with them after obsessively writing it up.

“Another 28 minutes, then I switch out with Mumbo.” 

They sat in silence for a moment, watching the nest where Tommy lay, until Scar grabbed a card deck.

“Wanna play this game Cub and I came up with?”

“Sure, gambling with a vex has never ended poorly before.”

Time passed by like it was nothing, and before Pearl knew it, Mumbo was shouldering open the bedroom door to the both of them whisper-shouting at each other over the cards. 

“Bad time?” He called from the doorway, using the wood as a shield in case the game got more heated than they’d already let it.

“Perfect time actually!” Pearl let out through gritted teeth, trying to hide the smirk she knew was fighting its way onto her face. “Remove this guy at once! He’s cheating!”

Scar gasped dramatically. “I’m no cheater! Mumbo, tell her I don’t cheat- I’m just that good!”

“Yeah, I’m not going to lie to Pearl,” he replied, settling himself down into the seating area they’d set up, trying not to spill the mug in his hands. “Now scoot, you’ve got a downstairs to be at.”

“Puppy dog eyes won’t work on us, Scar.”

“Fine, I’ll just bring this game downstairs, where it’ll be appreciated!” 

The silence after Scar left was surprisingly comfortable, the echoes of his efforts leaving the space with less tension than when she’d entered. 

They sat, not speaking, for a while. That was, until Mumbo looked up from his inventions book and spoke.

“Oh, I forgot,” he started, digging around his inventory for a moment. “I brought up the blueprints you were working on earlier. Ren thought you might want them.”

“Thanks! Say, what’ve you been working on in that book of yours?”

Mumbo’s face lit up at the question. Pearl could swear she could only hear him take a breath for a half-second before he began flipping through pages, rambling to her about his Season 10 redstone designs.

Eventually, the ramblings slowed and they began sharing their designs more slowly, sipping their tea as they chatted. When their cups ran empty, Mumbo stood, offering to go refill them downstairs. 

After making sure that she’d be alright to keep an eye on Tommy for a moment, he took the mugs and left the room.

It was eerily quiet without Mumbo or Scar there to liven up the bedroom, and as Pearl sat watching Tommy she couldn’t help but feel that something was wrong.

She glanced back at the doorway of the room, her nerves getting the best of her as she checked the entrances and searched every corner as best she could from her spot. When she glanced back to the kid, she nearly jumped out of her skin.

He must’ve woken up at some point, and was now gazing around the room with bleary, squinted eyes. His face took a hint of panic and- anger?- as he searched the room, locking onto the space just behind and to the side of Pearl’s head. 

He stared at the spot for a moment, not uttering a sound. 

Pearl felt like she couldn’t breathe. The air felt stagnant, stale. 

It felt wrong.

His eyes locked back onto her. 

“Y’ve got-” 

She’d never seen the kid’s eyes so clearly. 

“…angels watchin’ you-”

It terrified her.

“Fuckin’ angels- j’st leave me alone!”

Angels, the word echoed around her head.

And then he was asleep again. Pulling the blanket up over his head and rolling over, face hidden away from her. 

Like he didn’t want to look at her. 

Like he didn’t want to be seen. 

The second his face was out of view Pearl looked over her shoulder, movement frantic. Of course there was nothing there. Nothing she could see. 

She felt the eyes peering into her soul nonetheless. 

Her wings itched to fly, to get out of this room. But she knew she couldn’t leave Tommy alone. Mumbo would be back in a minute. It was fine, she could wait a minute. In the meantime she grabbed her comm with trembling hands she had no hope of steadying. She sent a whisper to Grian, telling him to meet her outside. If this was what she thought- if it was them, she needed to speak to her brother. 

As soon as Mumbo reentered the room, she wasted no time before rushing towards the nearest opening, the window. She vaguely heard Mumbo calling her name behind her, but she paid him no mind. 

She circled half of the building before spotting Grian on the ground, diving as fast as she could towards him without pummeling into the ground.  

He noticed her distress instantly. “Pearl, I got your message- Woah, hey, what’s wrong? Slow down, what’s wrong? Why are we panicking?” 

She rushed through the explanation, doing her best to summarize what had happened while her heart ran a marathon in her chest. As she did so, Grian’s expression blanked. That frustratingly familiar, caged off look taking over his face.  

“It’s probably nothing.”

What? 

“Nothing?” She seethed, “You’re saying this is probably nothing?”

“Correction- it’s definitely nothing.”

“You can’t just brush this off-!” 

“He’s delirious, Pearl! It doesn’t mean anything, just drop it, please.”

“I think we should talk to Xisuma-”

“No-!”

“You said he knows about them, we should at least let him know!”

“We don’t need to get him involved when there’s nothing to worry about.”

“How can you of all people say that? We should at least consider that this isn’t a coincidence! Especially since Tommy looked at me-”

“He didn’t even know you were there, Pearlie. He’s so out of it, it doesn’t mean anything.”

“He looked directly in my eyes when he said it. And I remember pretty damn well the last time you and I dealt with angels.”

“Don’t-”

“If there is even a slight chance they are involved then we need to consider it a possibility!”

“Tommy has nothing to do with them-!”

“And how the hell do you know that? Huh? After everything we’ve been through at their hands, why is this suddenly a risk you’re willing to take?” 

“Stop-! Okay, Pearl just stop-”

“No! You can’t just sit here and say this isn’t concerning! You heard what Joe said the night they found Tommy. He mentioned the games! Even if he didn’t know what he was saying he knows about them! And now this: ‘Angels!’ Something is going on here, Grian, and you know it!”

“No- just! No! We don’t need to be dealing with anything else right now. It's fine! Just leave it alone. Please.” Grian’s hands fluttered in a flurry of anxious movements, his wings following in tune behind his back. 

Before she had the chance to respond, he took off into the air, flying towards his base. She cursed at the ground, yelling after him.

“Sure, just run away! What you’re fucking good at!” 

She took barely a moment to compose herself before grabbing her comm. No way in hell was she not telling X about this, her brother's stubbornness be damned.