Archive of Our Own ^beta

“You need to grow up,Tommy.”

This—is this really it? Is death the only way to grow up? No, it can't, but on the other hand, 

no one is moving to save me

But he’s unsure if he should embrace death or run.

Although everyone is around us, nobody is moving. Tubbo can’t fight anymore. Techno could, but he won't because Dream mentioned something about a favor.

Now Dream is standing over him with an axe in his hand as he stares at Tommy with a sinister smile. Wilbur, Techno, and Phil stand in the crowd around him, with Techno holding Phil back and Wilbur just being Wilbur.

    He hates it here; everything hurts

Ranboo is standing beside Tubbo, supporting him and keeping him steady and safe.

Even though he knows it has only been a few seconds, it feels like hours. 

He is sitting there with his body covered in open wounds, waiting for Dream to kill him.

He wishes Techno would just drop the favor and help him, or perhaps let Phil help him, but he won't.

It hurts that his family isn't going to help him; they’ll just sit to the side and observe.

And watch as Dream slashes his chest with his axe. One who is likely to bleed to death if not assisted

Dream's footsteps walk away from him, then come to a halt.

There is walking again, but it does not sound like dreams.

This sounds light and airy, almost as if the person is floating. There’s talking; no, it’s yelling.

He recognizes that voice.

It’s mom! It has to be Mom! Finally, he opens them (when did he close them?).

When Dream opens his eyes, he is lying on the ground, and the woman who had been yelling at his brothers and father turns to face him.

Tommy. He knows she is his mother.

“Mom!’

He gets to his feet, stands up, and rushes over to his mother. 

She came to save him, right? 

Oh, my dear!" She exclaims as she prepares to catch him.

He sobs and collapses into her arms. He missed her. She feels so safe

"Do not worry; I have got you now, I promise."

She turns to face his father.

"Phil, you said Wilbur would keep him safe. This doesn’t seem safe.”

He recognizes someone telling him to stay awake, but he is unable to concentrate.

Tommy is too preoccupied with sobbing in relief to listen to the conversation.

          Tommy's crying has stopped, and he is now staring at the ceiling as he awaits his death.

Kristen cannot help but feel regret as she looks down at her youngest, remembering all the times she could not save him. She had trusted her husband and other sons to protect him, but as she sits in his bed, sobbing, she realizes she made a mistake.

They do not have any supplies to assist him, but that does not matter. 

She knows he will die; she is the goddess of death, and while she cannot change fate, she can see it.

She sits beside her dying child, waiting for her husband's return.  

When they return, she gives them a blank stare.

She can’t help but be amused. Looking at their shocked expressions before the yelling and begging began.

The begging to save him but she cannot; she states that this is his fate

She cannot change it, no matter how hard she tries; it is their fault; they could have saved him but didn't.

She feels pity for Phil, her husband, as he was held back and forced to not save him.

She turns to tommy as he moves his head 

Facing them, he looked at his father and older brothers, who failed him

“I was never meant to make it, was I?”

Tommy has spent his life suffering, but that was fate, something no one can stop.

Tommy's head tilts to the side, his eyes becoming dull as he lies motionless.

Kristen weeps for her son's death in the mortal realm, but she knows he will never truly leave this world. 

She will give him a proper burial before leaving to retrieve him from limbo, so that no one can resurrect him again because he has suffered enough.

His spirit will remain with her.

However, as she turns her gaze to his body,

She gets a better look at him as she examines her youngest, who is motionless and lifeless on the bed.

His curly hair has become filthy and no longer shines, and he is thin and malnourished.

He is no longer her bright and funny child; he is no longer the sun or a star, but rather a scared child.