Archive of Our Own ^beta

He had met [...] a few times, but each of their meetings were foggy, like the distant memory of a happy childhood. One of them he remembered well, in exile, was one he couldn't fully grasp, as if this period in his life was just a dream. Surreal and numb. 

Still, as he woke up, he tried to understand the meaning of this dream, desperately holding onto the fading memory the more conscious he became. 

It was weird, he didn't usually dream of anyone he knew, especially such lucid dreams.

 As the sun rose, a ray of sunlight was cast over him, reaching through his window to get to him. He hissed and put a hand over his face, looking away. The only factor reminding him that he wasn't alone was the content hiss he received back from his spider, Shroud. 

He turned over and let his feet hover over the ground, waiting for something.. Anything? 

Or was he just too lazy , too pathetic to even leave his bed? 

A knock on his door snapped him out of his trance, and he stood up on shaky legs. He glanced over to a cracked mirror, smeared with fingerprints, and his brain took in all the information; He had just collapsed in bed last night, too tired to get out of his clothes. 

That revelation got a sigh out of him, grumbling about the material sticking to his skin. 

By the time he stopped complaining, he had gotten closer to the door, opening it without expecting anything, yet still being surprised. 

No one was there? 

Now, he hadn't expected anything but that didn't mean he expected nothing . 

"Is this some new prank, courtesy of Big Q?" 

He honestly didn't believe himself, but still, he hung on the hope that maybe, it was like back then, and maybe, he wasn't about to get killed. Thankfully, it seemed like he was right with the latter option, as no one came to kill him. Progress. 

Now that he was set, and a little more awake, he decided he'd get to work, and turned back around, closing the door as he went back inside. 

His hand reached for a lantern, lighting up half the room, which honestly was just enough to not make him squint at the new source of light. A sigh of relief escaped him, adrenaline he didn't know leaving his body, along with his features untensing. 

Besides all his thinking, he had already gotten to work, filling up his inventory with certain weapons, tools and other miscellaneous items. It was a daily task, a routine. Something to keep him grounded. 

He dug up his pickaxe, deciding on whether he should mine or build even more sewers. 

Perhaps mining for new resources would be great

He let the tool disappear in his inventory nevertheless, it's always useful to have one after all. 

He then grabbed a sword and his trusty... Where's his totem? He swore he had left it here, not thinking much as he left it in a basic chest rather than his ender chest, which had been full at the time, and still is. 

Bollocks , he thought, oh so elegantly. 

His sword was dropped, bouncing at his feet. He did not take the time to leave it in his inventory as he frantically opened all his chests, his eyes sweeping over the items, searching for the unmistakable golden and emerald coloured item. 

All he found was yellow dye, molding at the bottom of his chest. 

That was quite disconcerting. 

--

He pondered for a while, listing all he could do now that his totem had disappeared, most likely stolen. Could he tell Ranboo? 

This fucker would probably pity me, I'd rather die. 

He bit the inside of his cheek in irritation. maybe ask Technoblade to give him one? 

It would be a death wish, I'd rather steal, I'd have more luck this way. 

A long sigh left him, as he sank to the floor. Even then, he wouldn't dare steal now, he's undoubtedly more on guard with all the times he stole from him. 

That left him with a few more options, ones that he had too much pride to consider. 

So, he dug one last time in a chest to find his knife, a gift from Drista, and one of the very few gifts he accepted.

Now that was an option he could get behind, no one really had pride around a god, it was known that a human's strength couldn't ever hope to rival a God's. A deity had the power to rid one of their strength, their will to fight, it was basic knowledge. 

And so, it wouldn't be difficult to ask a god, who had unlimited wealth. Unlike humans. 

 If one dared to think they were a god, were, in all likelihood, insane, and had lost their sense of humanity. 

Dream. His mind provided. 

It seemed hypocritical, as he himself wasn't much better, but atleast he didn't consider himself a god, for fuck's sake! 

He deposited the knife back in the chest with uncharacteristic softness and turned around, head facing the door. 

But it'd be stupid to ask for a totem, no one depends on a totem to survive ! His shoulders sagged, a low whine slipping out of his mouth. 

He backtracked, fishing the blade out of the chest again, observing the way light reflected on its surface . Would she find him weak? Needy? No, he doesn't need help. 

Silence filled the cold shack. 

Yet as his grip on the blade hardened, a new burning conviction set in, and he, with a less soft movement threw the knife back in it's compartiment as a show of his perseverance. 

The door creaked open as he set a foot outside with determination set in his gaze. 

He began trotting towards the holy land, a breeze threatening to blow him over in the water that neared Punz's house. 

Soon enough, the entrance of the Prime church came into sight, and with that a new fear crawled up his throat. Would Drista be mad at him for interrupting her in her godly duties? Surely not, he doubted she even had duties in the first place. 

Yet as he entered the church, the fear didn't seem to dislodge itself from his throat. I have no other choice , he thought, as he trudged onwards. As he approached the pedestal, he let out a unsure noise 

"Drista..?" 

Wait. 

Wait was all he could do, helpless yet hoping to get an answer. So his eyes drifted to the floor and he started nibbling on his fingernails, as one does. His stance was tense, balancing from his right foot to his left. 

The silence was making his ears ring and his neck twitch with chills, he was quite the impatient character, not being able to stay in place for a minute. 

In fact, that had maybe caused his deaths, that or curiosity (the control room) and maybe even his hot-headed attitude (the prison) . 

He refused to look up, in case he accidentally took a glimpse at himself. 

Tommy looked miserable, and he was well aware of it. 

In his stubbornness to stay still, he began glancing around (avoiding any of the stained windows) and–

Oh. 

Here she was. 

And here he was, now screaming. She never failed to make him jump. 'Jump' being a small word for what truly was, fully-fledged terror. 

He opened his mouth in indignation, his eyebrows furrowing. The only noise that came out of his mouth was pure gibberish, before she interrupted him with one of her cackles that forecasted pure chaos. It turned his blood into ice, and he froze, still disoriented by the earlier scare she gave him. 

"Hey Tommy !" she chanted, her voice echoing all around the room, it seemed to come from different places. Leisurely, she hovered closer to the floor, until the tips of her robe grazed the tiles. You could imagine the robe flopping on the floor in an elegant and mesmerizing whoosh. 

He came back into awareness step by step, his eyes slowly looking up to meet her mask, a petrified look crossing over his features, which was quickly overcome with his newly recovered determination. 

"I need a totem of undying. Mine has been stolen by some fuckers." He wasn't one for good manners, and no one had ever taught him any, so really, who was to blame? 

"Well, you did kill my dog, y'know..." She muttered, her head tilting to the side as the expression that adorned her white porcelain mask twisted into a sad excuse of a frown. 

The 17 year old just sighed in exasperation, if you asked him, he'd say his day was going terrible, and it wasn't even noon. "It was months ago, man !" he directed his anger towards her, eyes filling with irritation. "And I said I was sorry !" 

She ignored his statement. 

"Well.. What was that about the totem ?" the artificial expression merged back into the blank smile Tommy knew all too well as she inched closer. He took a few steps back warily "It seems someone stole it while I was asleep." he whispered through his teeth, his ire becoming impossible to dismiss. 

"We could exchange something for a totem, what do you think ?" She exclaimed, looking down with a trace of excitement in her stance. How could she seem so human ? 

Although it didn't seem appealing, especially coming from a God such as her, he considered it, what could he possibly lose? It didn't look like she wanted him dead.. Then again, who could he trust? 

"Elaborate."

"We play a game, and then I'll give you your totem !" Her face started.. spinning in what seemed to be glee

Yeah no, she definitely isn't human.

His hand gripped the bridge of his nose in aggravation. "What kind of game ?" 

"You'll see, so is it a yes?" 

… 

He really considered it. How did she manage to make it so appealing? 

Time went on for a while, until he sighed, defeated, and let his hands fall to the side . 

"Deal."

Her white hand came closer to wrap around his brittle arm, and with that–

--

The totem had been a gift from Ranboo, more specifically a birthday gift.

 He'd honestly expected to spend the day alone, so that had been quite the surprise. He would never admit that it had made him ecstatic. He had held it close to his heart, if not, on himself at all times. It was a relief, after his death, but in his conflicted haze, he had still believed that he didn't deserve it. The item held a bittersweet feeling he couldn't seem to get rid of.

He still kept it with him, albeit with slight  reluctance when near the tall teen. 

--

–His world spun. 

As he emerged from unconsciousness, his eyes drank in all the new information, desperately trying to memorize the new environment. 

It was a forest, trees with thin, crooked trunks, as well as a dark and cold taint. It was reminiscent of the forest around Pogtopia. Hard to travel around, and even harder to track a player down in. As it was still morning, the cold climate had kept the mist close to the ground, and it made it almost impossible to see his own feet. The air, as expected, was humid and made his eyes water. He rubbed them, once, twice, thrice, but they kept on watering from the dense atmosphere. 

In his silence, he heard the distant waves splashing against the shore. The sky was a deep grey, making it all the more sinister. Understandably, he didn't have a good experience with forests and woods, as much as he enjoyed nature. 

"We're here !" A smile split her face in two, he shuddered. 

"Where?" His face shifted into a displeased grimace. He wasn't very determined anymore, but that didn't mean he would change his mind and ask Ranboo for a new one. 

"Don't you remember? C'mon, it's pretty obvious !" Once again, her face tilted to the side, a reminder of his inferiority. 

He turned his head towards the sky. 

The splashing of waves against the shore, the humid air, and the overall sinister atmosphere. It was eerily similar to-

His eyes widened gradually, and he studied with horror. She stared right back, eyes squinting in mischief. A hand drew near him, it was detached from her body, flecks of magic emanating from it. 

Suddenly, an image sprouted from the appendage, almost like a hologram. It narrated the event that occurred months ago, intricate details that he wished no one ever saw, since it showed how weak he was. 

His teeth were grinding together as the scene where Logstedshire went in flame and explosions replayed in front of him. He was unable to look away. 

"You fuckin sick bastard !" His voice cracked, and he willed himself to meet her gaze once again. 

His comment was, as expected, ignored. 

"How about a game of tag ?" She retrieved her hand, instead making a questioning gesture. As if I had a choice. 

So, with hopeless resignation, his head dipped and he muttered a "Sure.." 

"Sweet ! I'll give you an advantage." In an instant, her form shifted into a visibly smaller one, wearing a dark green dress. It made her seem like a Victorian era child. It was almost comical. 

"I'll count, you run." She waved him off, and he didn't waste a second to start running for dear life. 

--

Low branches whizzed past him, as his breath was becoming erratic with panic, with a solid turn, he was smacked in the face by yet another low branch, and he tripped down a creeper hole. He scrambled up, but stayed close to the ground, scanning his surroundings. 

Unfortunately, he couldn't make out any distinct noises, with the impossibly loud howling of the wind. It didn't help that the hole was a reminder of the remnants of Logstedshire, full of ash and sharp rocks. 

So he continued on, jumping out of the hole and sprinting towards the closest tree, he was in plain sight, and his red shirt, although dulled with the years, was still eye-catching. 

He neared the abandoned village unconsciously, and as a stone wall came in sight, he screeched to a halt in a huff of breath and sore limbs. The inhabitants had been slaughtered in a show of power by Dream, and he had been helpless to watch. He figured it wouldn't be a clever hiding place and ran past the solitude-riddled place in a hurry. 

The forestry grew thicker and thicker as he padded through it. At some point, he had stopped running, lungs burning, memories were flooding back, an unsuspecting clearing was a reminder of Mooshroom Henry, bleeding out, and hell if he missed his pet. The waves were a reminder of everyday, waking up under water with salt filled lungs. 

So, within the first 40 minutes of their twisted game of tag, he slid down a tree, hands coming to wrap around his knees with a defeated sigh. He had a nagging feeling something was going wrong, as he hadn't heard of Drista in a while now. She was a god, how was it even possible that he'd gotten this far ? Even if it was entertaining, she would've gotten bored of his slowness, right ?

He had gotten hungry after some time, but had kept walking, lest she found him. His stomach growled, and he hunched his shoulders in slight indignation, though wasted no time in snatching an apple from his inventory and biting down on it. A click caught his attention, and he checked the source, finding a crow glaring at him with calculating eyes, before flying away towards the tundra biome. 

The animal left a dreadful feeling in it's wake, as if he was being watched all over again. He shook it off with an uneasy shake of his shoulders and resumed to gnawing on his apple. 

Unfortunately for him, a booming laugh resounded, all warped as it echoed throughout the forest. 

He had been a fool to believe he was safe. 

His eyes flew around him and there she was, in all her glory. Drista. Except this time she was in her godly form, a few times taller and all the more intimidating.

With a flick of her finger, a bolt of lightning flashed mere centimeters away, and he stumbled away, phantom pains resurfacing, which made it impossible to tell which were real pains. She had carbonized his apple, reduced to ashes. 

Once again, a laugh rose out of her, surprising him out of his terror. He desperately searched for possible escapes, thankfully, he found one pretty fast, whilst the deity was still cackling mischievously. He bolted towards a low root, which instantly caught her attention, as she chased him.

 As he slid underneath it, he came to the realization she couldn't follow him, and let out a squeal of relief. But as he turned around, he realized he stumbled across yet another clearing, the waves splashing against the shore, albeit much louder. 

There was an eerie silence that settled, as if all wildlife had died (it had). Even Drista, who could easily find her way around the imposing tree, was now gone. 

His chest deflated as a new emotion settled. He closed his eyes in shameful realization; the realization that he would prefer being with someone who'd hurt him rather than alone. Isolation was scary, whereas being with Dream was a constant, no matter how unpredictable he'd get. It was the same with everyone, because for the most part, he knew how to defend himself, even if it angered them. 

So, even if he hated himself for his weakness, he began walking towards – what he now realized – was the ruins of logstedshire in search of memories to grasp at, perhaps even a silhouette, the illusion that he was back here, with the masked man. 

He stumbled through the terrain, and stopped in front of the remnants of his home-

Was it home ? 

The tall wooden poles, some standing strong while most had buckled under the explosions. There was lingering ash on the floor, suddenly kicked up in the air as he padded through the place. 

He had finished building the surroundings of his 'vacation home', Ghostbur cheering him on whilst he built the house. 

He turned around, facing the emplacement of tnret, a few meters away. His shoulders sagged in sorrow and he let out a half hearted whine. 

He wasn't forgetful, but in the moment, it felt like a distraction, walking around here with no purpose, he had strayed away from the true reason as to why he'd come here. 

But.. 

No one was around, and he didn't have the strength to care about how Drista viewed him, he was but a petty human to her, and someday she'd get bored of him, surely. 

"But Dream hasn't gotten bored of you, has he ?" A voice echoed once again, but it wasn't the god's, it felt like… it was no one's. 

So Tommy did not bother trying to find the source, and replied with a snarky tone : "Maybe he has, go ask him, not me." He kept his hands in his pockets (which were full of rocks he'd occasionally find and keep), feigning indifference. Truth was, it creeped him out, made the hairs at the base of his neck stand up, shivers running through his body. 

This situation made him want to hide away, it was a mix of ire, frustration and deep rooted fear . 

It didn't help that none of this felt real. 

"Drista ! Let's get this over with, I wanna go ho-" his eyes widened and he stumbled back clumsily, mouth agape. 

Near the ruined beach party stood someone . That someone had horns and it didn't take long for him to realize it was-

"Tubbo…?" He spat out uneasily, back hunched and hands shaking. 

It was him. 

Except his eyes were visible, and he was wearing a tight suit. Posture stoic and hands resting on his back. 

It was the exact same as back then, when he thought he'd seen him. 

His breath hitched. 

He couldn't take his eyes off of him, although he was stepping back, positioned for an attack of some sort. 

The boy gave him a crooked smile, eyes crinkled, and disappeared. 

He spun on himself wildly, barely having any time to react as a new appearance made itself known. The familiar grating sound of the nether Portal spitting out someone-

No one was there. Not even the purple swirling of the portal's frames were there. 

He felt something snap in him, promptly releasing a shriek of madness. It lasted long, nothing around to stop it. It felt relieving in a way, if it wasn't for his sore throat, as if it had bubbled up over time and could finally escape. 

It was also a terribly clear reminder of his brother's descent into insanity, his yells echoing in his head just like it did throughout the ravines of Pogtopia. An imaginary weight fell on his shoulders, the coat that smelled of smoke and used leather covering his shoulders as he crumbled to the floor, hands coming around himself to get the trench coat off in a hurry. 

I don't want to be like him- I don't-

It was all going too fast, spiraling into madness was a quicker process than he'd expected. He was curled up on himself, screaming until he wasn't able physically to, as his voice morphed into Wilbur's and he was overwhelmed with thousands of repressed feelings that he'd buried deep down, thinking they would never reach him. 

As a child, he wanted to be all like him, but now, the only trait he wanted in common with him was death, a heroic death that would leave him to rest, finally. Was that too much to ask? Was his punishment to stay here, haunted by all these memories? He'd cheated death- Dream had cheated death for him, because he was thrilled to see him suffer ! 

But now all he had was this looming presence, a promise that he wouldn't be left alone-

Drista laid her hand on his shoulder, and seemingly interrupted his madness as all his sentiments were forcefully taken away, leaving him with a dreadful emptiness and exhaustion. He let his hands go limp, as he hunched his back further, barely holding up in her grasp. 

"Why did you do that.. to me?" he tilted his head in question, voice slurring with fatigue. 

"Oh I didn't do anything, it was all your doing." She said reverently as fabric shuffled. He didn't have the strength to check what it was. 

He didn't believe her- couldn't believe her ! He wasn't this crazy, he'd healed, he wasn't the same !

 "Fuck you! Stop lying to me !" His voice had an unsure lilt, and he couldn't even tell if he was trying to convince himself or her. 

"Healing takes time, it doesn't come all at once." 

This time, Tommy's head shot up in surprise, because the voice was much deeper and didn't hold the same childish tone. It was DreamXD. He stood tall, hovering over the two as he glared down at Tommy, one eye visible through his mask, glowing a toxic green.

"I am no human, but have been studying their behaviour for centuries." he added. 

Tommy stood up abruptly. "If you are a god, then why can't you just do me a favor, and change that then? I can't live like this anymore.." he waved his hands about, a certain mania in his pace. 

"Every human lives under the same conditions, it is my role to keep it this way." 

"Then why aren't we equals ! Why do I have to dread my own self while some others can live their happily-ever-afters ?!" 

The god fell silent. 

"I prepared this game to make you realize that you do need help, you still have to heal, I may not be as experienced with humans but I can tell that. You can't ignore everything forever, Tommy." The teenager bristled as she said his name, looking down at his feet defeatedly.

She patted his back expectedly, and he turned slightly to glare at her with half-hearted venom in his eyes. Only did he falter as he saw what she was holding. 

His totem, the reason why he came here in the first place. A reason he'd almost forgotten after all this.

He cupped his hands and let her deposit it in his palms. He eyed the object dubiously, and realized with a distant anger that it was the one Ranboo had given to him. 

"Did you steal it from my chest, for all this ?" 

"I'll admit, I did." 

He sighed, swaying slightly. It was getting harder to stay awake as he tightened his grip on the item. 

Soon enough, he succumbed to deep slumber, which was something he hadn't done in a while, lest dying in his sleep or other obscure reasons. The last words he heard were "Sleep well." acting as a spell, as he fell deeper in the pit of darkness. 

---

Two days later, he woke up to banging on his door. 

He jumped out of bed, fresh from days of sleep without waking up. He opened the door groggily, coming face to face with a worried Ranboo, who hesitantly opened his arms, expecting a hug. 

Tommy let him, as he looked like he needed it more than ever. 

"Where were you? You just disappeared for three days !" the younger teen let his head rest on his shoulder.

"Sleeping, y'know how it is." The lie left his mouth without struggle, but he felt guilty as he thought back to what the gods had said. 

Still, he didn't admit to anything, as he'd probably sound insane, which was the opposite of his current goal.

To not be like Wilbur. 

Ranboo let go of the hug, an unknown hesitancy as he lifted his finger towards him. Tommy looked up, head tilted in question. 

"Hey, where'd you find this trench coat ?"