Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

CW: derealization (minimal), pain/blood (minimal)

It was Spring.“Tell me a story, dad. Could you? Please?” A man looked down at his son who was seated in his lap, seeing how his child was looking expectantly up at him. He sighed. “Hmmm... well, once upon a time... ” 

The small blond boy looked at his father, slight disappointment in his eyes. “That’s how you start every story... what does it even mean?” “What does... ‘once upon a time’ mean?” The older man thought for a moment, his wings ruffling in the cool breeze that rushed by and played with his small son’s hair. Such a familiar feeling, the breeze on their faces. The breeze was so cooling... so calm. “Once upon a time... means at some time in the past something came to be... something happened during, or upon, a time... ”

Tommy Innit Minecraft, a hybrid avian around the age of 13, was awakened from his sleep by a chilly breeze blowing in from the nearby window, the feathers on his meager wings shifting from the gale. He sat up, looking at his alarm clock. 3:44 am.

He laid back on his pillow, recalling his dream. That was a memory, not a dream, he supposed. Huh. He rolled over on his side, trying to sleep again so he could go back to the dream. It was so nice... really. He knew how it continued, too… but he wanted to see it. To feel that wave of nostalgia. He wanted to feel it hit against his chest.

He shut his eyes, pulling the pillow over his face. He eventually found himself in his memory again.

“Ohhhh! That… kinda makes sense I guess... ” His father smiled, ruffling his hair. “Indeed... Now, do you want me to start the story a different way?” The boy thought, before shaking his head. “Um... no... not really.” The older man chuckled slightly. 

“Okay then... once upon a time... there was a handsome young soldier... he had sea-blue eyes and short blond hair and he was very, very brave... one day, he woke up and got dressed, pulling on his favorite shirt. ‘Brave Boy! Breakfast!’ His father called from downstairs. ‘Coming!’ He said back. He went downstairs, where his father was cooking bacon, and his brothers were reading the newspaper. ‘Hello, Brave Boy.’ His father said to him. ‘Where will you adventure today?’ Brave Boy thought for a moment. ‘Today I will bring moon cheese for us to have for dinner!’ ‘Ooh that sounds lovely’ His oldest brother said. ‘And I will cook a fish to go with it! It will be a splendid meal. Don’t forget your boots, as it is raining outside!’ Brave Boy pulled on his rainboots, his hat, and his green scarf. ‘Good luck, Brave Boy!’ His father said. ‘Goodbye Brave Boy!’ His brothers called. After receiving their kind farewells, out the door he went, in search of moon cheese.” “Moon cheese?” The young boy giggled. “What the heck is that?” “You’ll see... just listen to the story, Toms... .”

Tommy once again awoke, this time his alarm marking 7 o’ clock being the thing to wake him. He sat up, stretching, before swinging his legs over the bed. He pulled off his sleep pants, replacing them with a pair of jeans. He took one of his shirts from a pile of laundry beside his bed, putting it on.

He then walked out of his room, rubbing his eyes and yawning as he went. As per usual, his lazy brother, Wilbur, was still in bed, along with his father. Although, by the sounds of the coffee machine going, and the door across from his room being wide open, Technoblade was awake, too.

Tommy walked downstairs, the steps creaking as he trotted upon them, the wooden railing cold against Tommy’s palm. “Hey Techno.” “Morning, Tommy.” Techno replied, taking a sip of his coffee out of a mug that read “world’s best brother” he got from Wilbur. However, it was scribbled out with a permanent red marker by Tommy and replaced with “World’s 2nd Best Brother”. He didn’t understand why Techno liked coffee. It wasn’t even good. It’s bitter. Tommy shuddered at Techno’s voice jokingly. “I still can’t believe we adopted an American.” Techno rolled his eyes, his voice unamused as he spoke, but a smile twitching at the corners of his lips. “You weren’t even born yet, Theseus."

He opened the breakfast cabinet, honey oat cereal or white bread, the same options as always. Tommy thought. He tipped the cereal box out of the cabinet with the edge of his left wing, grabbed it with his hand, and poured it into a bowl, getting the milk out from the fridge.

“What did you have for breakfast Tech?” “Omelet.” Tommy perked up a bit. “Ooh.” That sounds better than cereal right now. “Can you make me one?” “No.” “But whyyyyy?” He whined, annoyance and dissatisfaction in his voice. “I don’t feel like it, make it yourself.” Techno said, rolling his eyes at the disappointed and childish whine in Tommy’s voice. “I can’t, I don't know how to.” “Then learn.” He grabbed and threw a cookbook at his younger brother’s feet, gesturing at him to pick it up.

“I don’t wanna... c’mon Tech please can you make me an omelette? Pretty please with all the shitty toppings you want? Like sprinkles or whatever you like?” Techno just rolled his eyes again, setting down his coffee cup on the table and walking towards the stairs. “Learn how to do it yourself, Tommy.” He walked up the stairs, leaving Tommy alone in the kitchen. 

Tommy picked up the cookbook, before throwing it aside and huffing. "Prick." He took the milk from the fridge and poured it in with the cereal, shoving a spoon into the bowl. He began to eat it, taking a seat at the counter.

In the time between Tommy starting and finishing the bowl of cereal, Wilbur had come down. “Good Morning, Tommy.” He said, his voice laced with fatigue and grogginess. Tommy jumped, startled, as he had not seen Wilbur come down. “J-Jesus Christ, dickhead! When did you get down here?” “I’ve been here for a while Tommy.” “Oh… well… be more loud next time you’re here! Good morning to you as well, bitch.” Wilbur nodded, turning his attention back to whatever the hell he was doing.

Sometime later, Tommy’s father, Philza, came downstairs as well. “Good morning, boys! Did you all sleep well?” Wilbur, softly and quietly, hummed an “mhm”. Tommy on the other hand spoke rather loud. “Yeah dad! I had a dream... but it was more like a memory.” Phil raised an eyebrow at his youngest son, sitting down at the counter across from him. “Oh yeah? Well, why don’t you tell me about it, Toms?” Tommy smiled, glad his father wanted to hear about his dream. “Okay so basically I was like, I dunno 5 or 6? And I was sitting in your lap, we were on the porch, and there was a nice breeze. You told me a story about uh, what was it...? I don’t know if it was something about a boy that you described like me.” “Oh yeah mate, the Brave Boy stories... I did really love to tell them to you Tommy, you just got too old.” 

Tommy sighed, “tch”-ing. “I didnnnnnt! I’m not too old! You could tell me one now, if you’d like?” Tommy cocked his head to the side as he asked the question, smiling into his dad’s emerald eyes. He silently hoped his father would say yes. Phil sighed, shaking his head.“No Tommy, you have an incredible ability to have decreased your attention span little by little each year, you wouldn't have the patience. You’re practically 13, the stories were made for you when you were 6. That’s half your age.” Tommy pouted slightly, huffing. “I know but-...” He sighed. “Nevermind... I’m going to go outside.” Phil exhaled softly. “Tommy it’s not that I don’t want to tell you the story- I’m older now- I don’t even know if I could remember the whole thing-” “It’s okay, Dad, I understand.” 

Tommy dragged his feet all the way to the front door. He was disappointed to say the least, although he didn't know what he expected. His dad never does anything for him, or at least it felt that way.

He sat on the bench of the porch, watching as little passerines and sparrows flew by. The bench was old and rickety, with peeling paint and wooden legs that everyone who lived in the Minecraft household were astonished that they were still supporting the bench after so many long years. Early dawn dew coated the bench’s surface. Once he was old enough, Tommy would fly too, with the little winged creatures he found such a beautiful decoration for the sky. 

The birds chirped a beautiful morning melody, as pleasing as a prayer. He listened to it... it was like sugar was being poured into Tommy’s ears, the birdsong as sweet as maple syrup in his brain. The sun danced with the clouds, peeking through from behind them ever so often. And there it was- the familiar breeze again. Tommy smiled widely as he felt it on his face and chest. Tommy loved to come here when he needed to think. 

He thought about many things this time around- but mostly about his dream. He wondered if it would continue tonight, although he doubted he would be so lucky to be a person to finish a good dream once started but interrupted. After many minutes, the avian hybrid sat up, his head cleared, going back inside and up the stairs to his bedroom.

He sat down on the bed, looking around his room, it was once Wilbur’s... and before it was Wilbur’s it was Techno’s... there were a lot of memories in this room. Memories... Why is this word so significant today? 

Tommy thought to himself. He laid back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling, watching the fan spin and around.

Suddenly, the fan became a breeze, fog filled the room, and Tommy felt... dizzy. A loud bang echoed on the walls and he was suddenly falling through a dim and misty haze. His body spun around, his limbs felt as though they would fall off any second, and he struggled to gain control of his body. He had a headache, his brain felt like it was being torn apart, then, he was in a dark room with no doors or windows. Everything stopped, Tommy was numb... he couldn’t feel his own body. He couldn’t move.

Then sunlight peeked through a doorway, one Tommy hadn’t noticed. Was that even there before? He hesitated, then walked cautiously towards and through the door. All of the sudden, he was on the porch of his home, and he saw Wilbur on a bench, reading a book. Except it wasn’t Wilbur. It couldn’t be. The boy must only be 8 or 9, and Wilbur was 15. The boy definitely looked like his older brother though, that’s for sure. “Wilbur... ?” He asked the boy, seeing if he would respond. There was nothing, but Tommy did notice how his voice echoed. He was so confused. “Hello?” Nothing. “You, the boy reading the book!” Nothing. What is going on... ? Then, the wind picked up, pushing Tommy forward in the direction of the boy. He looked down at him, before tapping him on the head. But- he couldn’t... ? His finger went straight through the boy’s head. What the f-

His thought was interrupted by the boy closing the book and calling to another. “Tommy! Don’t trod on Mum’s flowers!” Tommy looked to where the boy was gazing, His eyes went wide as they fell on the little boy whom the brunette was calling to. It was him. Tommy. Except much younger, covered in dirt, jumping on a bed of roses. The brown haired boy went over to Tommy’s younger self, scolding him for playing in their mother’s garden of flowers. “Tommy, don't do that!” “But Wilbyyyyyy I want to!” Wilby, huh? So- the 9 year old was Wilbur (?). “I don’t care that you want to, you’re not supposed to!” “But-” “No buts! C’mon we’re going inside.” 

The younger Wilbur drags his brother by his hand into the house, walking straight through Tommy. What was that? What is going on?! He thought frantically. He wanted answers. He watched as the two small brothers went inside until they were out of view. Then something else caught his attention, something he hadn’t noticed. He remembered this, only through the eyes of his younger self... The paint on the walls wasn't peeling, the water pipe wasn’t rusted nor leaking... he and his brother were younger... I’m in the past, aren’t I? 

At this revelation, it led to Tommy to wonder what else he could see in this previous time. His mother, full of life before overcome with sickness, perhaps? Right on cue, he saw his mother and father walk through the garden, hand in hand, careful not to step on the roses. It had been a long time since Tommy had seen his mother outside the house, due to her condition. Tommy saw his mother abruptly cough and sink to the ground on one knee, and then watched as his father’s expression turned worried and concerned. He could see his father’s lips form the words “Are you alright, my love?” His mother nodded, raising a hand to let her husband know she was fine. Tommy wished that Phil just hadn’t believed her when she told him that. He thought to himself in silence, frowning. Phil would have helped her sooner. Her sons would have helped her sooner. Maybe she wouldn’t have been bedridden for those past couple of weeks.

He just finished his thought when- BANG! There was a loud noise, and the ground gave way beneath Tommy’s feet. He tripped as the grass seemingly disappeared under him, grabbing onto the dirt with his hand to stop himself from falling, but it crumbled, and he descended down... down... down. He tried to scream, but no sound came out of his mouth. His head had a splitting headache again, and he lost control of his body once more. He was plunging down into the hazy air, and he watched the light of the past get farther away from him. The dizzying feeling came back, and then it ceased once more as his dropping came to a stop. He felt his feet on the ground. Shaking, he sat up, looking around. This time, he was in a meadow of daisies. A different location, but he could still sense that the world around him was past as well... already lived. Unlike the other past memory, this field was not familiar.

“Dad! Dad! Watch!” He heard a voice call. A young one. A very small boy around the age of 4 with brown hair and gold-rimmed glasses ran down the hill, his arms outstretched, a smile on his face. “I’m watching!” Tommy heard a voice call. The voice was of his father, although he looked much younger, his hair didn’t have a single streak of grey, and his face was full of spirit. The young boy did a cartwheel, almost falling over, but he landed it. Although, his glasses fell off. He knelt down to pick them up, before starting to cry when he saw that the lense had broken. A woman with black hair and tired eyes ran over to the little boy, kneeling down at his side. Tommy’s mother. “Wil, it’s okay they’re just glasses... here... ” She picked up the pieces of the glasses lenses. Then she pocketed them. Through sobs the boy, Wilbur, managed to get out a “M-Mum... ? W-Why are you... pocketing ... them..?” “Well... ” 

The woman cupped her son’s face in her hands. “We don’t want birds to eat them you see... we want them to stay healthy, and eating glass doesn't seem healthy, does it?” The boy shook his head. “No.” She smiled warmly, moving the boy’s dark brown hair out of his face and tucking it behind his ear, only for it to fall in front of his eyes again. “Your hair was always so untamed... ” She laughed a bit under her breath. She then hugged him, running her fingers through her son’s “untamed” hair, as he wiped his tears with his fist. “Love you, mama.” He muttered. “Love you too, Wilbur... Now, why don’t we go home, where we can get your spare glasses, okay?” He nods, getting off her lap so she could sit up. She picks him up, and they walk back towards Tommy’s father. Tommy looked at them, following. He could see a skinny 6 year old climbing a tree, hanging off one of the branches, talking to his father. That must be young Tech, Tommy speculated. 

Phil took a Polaroid of his eldest son, smiling. Tommy recognized the Polaroid, as it hung on a bulletin board in his parent’s room. He looked around for himself, but couldn’t find a trace of him. I… must have not been born yet, Tommy guessed.

He walked a little closer to his mother and his brother as they neared Techno and Phil, but before he could get closer the ground cracked, like ice. Tommy dropped again, his wings tensing up. He wasn’t as shocked at the ground sinking, although the feeling was still uncomfortable. He let out an inaudible yelp, and fell for a while before he became lightheaded. He had a throbbing pain in his forehead, frozen in place, incapable of movement. Soon, he was against a cold floor. Freezing cold.

He stood up, looking around. It’s dark, dim, and incredibly cold, a gust of wind coming from nowhere in particular rushing at him, sending a chill down Tommy’s spine, making him shudder. Then, he felt a strong pain in his chest, and he doubled over. He could hear his heartbeat, ringing like a bell in his ears. The world began to spin around. Tommy spun around. Getting sick with nausea. He wanted to stop it- desperately trying to cease his body from moving. But he couldn’t. He shut his eyes tight but it made it worse, and Tommy felt as though he would throw up any second. After what felt like endless cycles, Tommy collapsed to his knees, against the freezing cold floor. What the hell? He looked around him, hoping there would be a door, but there wasn’t one. The misty fog still clouded around him, blocking sights in every direction for miles. There were no walls, nor ceilings, and now that Tommy was thinking about it- there was no floor. He had collapsed onto nothingness- an infinite void above, and infinite void below.

Once he realized this- he also became aware that his surroundings were at a deathly temperature. He began to shiver, and as he exhaled, he could see his breath. He bit his lip as a reaction to his discomfort, but stopped quickly as it was painful. He tried to warm himself, rubbing his wings against his arms, and moving his palms together in an attempt for a temperature increase. He began to feel a shortage of air, and felt his body loosing warmth faster than it could produce it. The mist turned to snow, and the snow turned to hail. 

The floor slowly disappeared as it was coated in snow. Tommy’s knees, as he was wearing shorts, started to discolor, turning red, then a light blue. They burned, so he tried to stand, but he failed. He didn’t have the strength to. Help. He needed help. His lips were reddish and trembling, his bottom lip slightly swollen from him biting on it before. 

He knew it was useless, but he had to try, so he called into the darkness. “P-please... PLEASE H-HELP!” His nasal passages dried and burned, irritated. His nose began to bleed, trickling to his lip. He felt tears stream down, then freeze to his red cheeks. He then became very warm, wanting to remove his sweatshirt, but he knew he couldn’t. The state of the heated temperature could be caused by hypothermia, it was one of the few things he paid attention to when Techno droned on about causes of death during dinner times. 

“HELP! P-PLEASE!” He soon felt another presence, but couldn’t see them. “T-Tommy?” He looked around as he heard his father’s voice call out to him. “D-dad? DAD!” He called out. “Tommy please stop yelling I’m right here... ” “I- I can’t see you!” He shouted, scared now. “Wake up Tommy, c’mon, mate!” Tommy felt himself being shook, and he sat up, gasping, his vision blurry. He looked around. He was in his bed, in his room, and there was no snow to be seen. He felt his chest rise and fall rapidly, and his father came into focus in front of him. “D-dad... ?” “Tommy what’s going on? What’s wrong? Did you have a nightmare?” 

No, it was real. So... so real. So. Real. Tommy wanted to say. But he knew that he would sound stupid, or crazy, or both.

“Y-yeah... nightmare... sorry for worrying you... ” “That’s okay, Toms... You slept the entire day. Didn’t get enough sleep last night?” The... entire day? Tommy glanced around his room, sure enough, no sunlight peeked through the windows, and instead of morning sparrows, crows the color of dusk and obsidian called out their tune, a squawked poem. Phil wrapped his black wings around his son, pulling him closer, his head resting on Tommy’s. Tommy let his father hug him, the embrace feeling warm after the cold he had just felt. “You have a fever... I’ll get some medicine okay?” Tommy nods, still shaken up. Philza gets up, quickly exiting the room to get medicine. Tommy sat back in his bed. What in the fucking world just happened? The avian didn’t know, and he didn’t like not to know things. He decided not to ponder it, rolling over on his side.

 Just don’t think about it, big man. Just don’t think about it.

Chapter Text

CW: mention of antidepressants and self-harm(?) (in form of energy drinks idk bro) (minimal), mentioned derealization

That night, Tommy didn’t sleep. He was scared that he would fall again desperately into the abyss of the cold if he were to close his eyes. He eventually rolled out of bed early in the morning, his stomach uneasy. He got dressed, looking in the mirror. Oh god, he was a mess. He decided to push the thought of his poor appearance out of his head, like he’d done with many other thoughts that night. 

He began to leave his room, but stopped. His hand froze in place on the doorway. He thought back to the cold, snowy, frost biting air. Moments before he felt it, he had seen his parents and siblings. 

Techno was, instead of studying, climbing a tree happily, outstretching his arms to reach the limbs of it. He was free, not bound by the chains of the educational system that infected the city. Wilbur- smaller, carefree, not cooping himself up in his room depressed and isolated. He was happy, and wasn’t in need of scarfing antidepressant medication down his throat leading to tremors and rapid heartbeats or long hours on his computer to no end, locked away. Tommy’s father was young again with no bags to be seen under his emerald eyes. His mother- cheery and full of life- not tired. Not... “...” (A beat.)

He remembered the other memory, the one he remembered living through. He sighed as he thought about his mother and father walking hand in hand amongst roses as Wilbur scolded his younger self.

Tommy leaned his head against the doorway, laughing under his breath to himself. All the times when he talked to his brother now, they fought. Oh well...  he shrugged, now continuing to make his way downstairs.

“Tommy!” Philza called, with a sharp worry in his voice. “Why are you out of bed?” He came from around the corner, holding Tylenol in his hand. “You think you’re well enough to be walking, mate?” 

“I- uh... y-yeah I’m fine. Great, actually. I’m not feeling sick at all, dad.” Tommy said, giving his father a weak smile. “Positive? You don’t feel sick or anything?” “Dad, I'm fine, trust me.” “...Alright then. Do you need to eat something, are you not hungry?” Tommy shook his head. “Not hungry, thanks.”

He finishes descending the stairs, sitting down on the couch. There was a loud yelp- Tommy had sat on Floof, Techno’s dog. The dog jumped up, growling at him before running upstairs, probably to Techno’s room. 

Tommy then heard a voice- his dad again, from upstairs. “Wil? Hey bud, do you-” Tommy could hear a door slam aggressively, probably in Phil’s face. “Techno? I was wondering if you’d like to do something toda-” “No.” 

Philza came downstairs, his wings folded behind him, a look of disappointment and weakness on his face. “Tommy?” “Mhm?” “Would you like to come with me-” He paused, seeing if Tommy would interrupt him. When he didn’t, he let out a long grateful sigh, and continued.

“Will you visit your mother today with me?” Tommy thought about it. He didn’t want to- but he knew his father didn’t want to go out by himself. So, nodding slowly, he agreed. “Okay.” Philza smiled. “Thank you.” Tommy looked up at him and gave his father a small grin. “No problem.”

Later that day, Philza and Tommy made their way to a hill, where Phil placed a bouquet of flowers on his wife’s grave. They both sat down against the stone. 

“‘love you, Kristen... ” Phil whispered, his voice a bit shaky even though it had been a while since his wife’s passing. Tommy patted him on the back, looking at the grave. “Yeah mum.” He said to it. 

(A beat.) 

“We miss you.” 

The sun shone through the clouds in the sky, shining down on them, illuminating their faces. Tommy looked around, past years playing in his head like recordings on fast forward. 

In one of them, Wilbur was leaning on the stone, playing guitar as Tommy listened. In another, Techno was kneeling at the grave, sighing, alone, trying not to bite back tears and not show even a shred of his confident ego cracking. Tommy sighed. 

“Rough couple of years for us it’s been, huh Dad?” He asked. His father’s head turned and looked at him for a moment before he nodded. “You could say that again.” 

(Another beat.) 

Tommy always found conversations with Philza to be frustratingly awkward for some reason. Maybe they just had nothing to talk to each other about. Tommy decided he would take a break from the loud silence. “I’ll be right back.” 

He got up, shoving his hands down in his pockets. He walked down the hill into the nearby forest, humming one of Wilbur’s lullabies to himself.

He strolled along, humming the tune until it finished, running his hands along the surface of trees, feeling the bark beneath his fingers. He kicked stones, watched birds poke in and out of bushes, and he swore he saw a movement from behind a rather large oak. 

He made his way through the foliage, until he reached a cliff that opened up to the sky and had the ocean down around it. He looked out of it, watching as the sunlight hit the water below. Fish swam around in circles, foam hit the rim of the beach, ships sailed on the sea. Tommy took in the smell of the salty water, breathing in before exhaling slowly. It's truly beautiful. 

He remembered the first time Wilbur led him to the cliff, hand in his hand. “C’mon Toms, it’s so great! You’ll love it.” Wilbur’s voice rang in Tommy’s ears, and Tommy felt as if his brother was still there with him on the cliff. He wasn’t of course, he was probably writing something down, or running his fingers through his hair, trying to pull himself together as he ran on energy drinks instead of sleep. These last couple of months, Tommy watched his brother fall apart, seeing him try to hide the fact he was having a hard time staying awake. 

These last couple of months, Tommy could feel the people around him, especially his brother, become depressed and distant. These last couple of months, Tommy felt lonely. 

He wasn’t enrolled in school, and did not leave his house often, and so had no chance to make friends. And the more isolated and distant from him his three family members became, the more Tommy grew sad, and the lonely feeling felt heavy in his chest, ripping him apart... slowly. But he tried to hold his head high with no faking. He wouldn’t become depressed, he wouldn’t bring anyone down, unlike everyone in his life.

He sighed again before turning on his heel and going back through the trees.

Suddenly, he felt something brush against his back and whipped around. Nothing. There was nothing. Then- there was a tap on his shoulder. Again, he spun around, but saw no one. “Who’s there?” 

He called, grabbing a rather heavy stick from the ground. “Show yourself! I’m a big man you know! If you try anything I-I’ll fight you!” He looked around for any sign of life in response to his shouts. “Come out you bloody coward!”

…Nothing. Tommy sighs, and drops the stick. But just before he continued walking he heard a small voice. “Hello?” Tommy freezes, picking the stick back up quickly and turning towards the voice. “Who’s there?!” There’s a movement behind the large oak from before, and suddenly a boy steps out from behind it- a human by the looks of his face. But once Tommy got a look at his body, he realized the figure was a satyr. A boy with goat ears, legs, and horns. 

“Are you going to hurt me?” He asked quickly, eyeing the branch Tommy was holding with curiosity and caution. Tommy shook his head, immediately dropping the stick. “Oh no I’m not, I’m sorry if I scared you or- er, who are you?” The satyr seemed relieved that he dropped the stick, taking a step closer. 

The satyr decided to speak after opening and closing his mouth a few times. “My name’s Tubbo. What’s your name?” Tommy suppressed a laugh at the odd name, but odd names really weren’t uncommon. 

“I’m Tommy. Nice to meet you... you're a satyr right?” Tubbo nods. “That’s cool, I’ve never seen one in person before.” Tubbo nods again. “You’re an avian, yeah? Or- maybe a hybrid of something?” “I’m both actually- I’m a hybrid between an avian and whatever my mother was. I never got to ask her before-“ He looks at his feet before giving Tubbo a pained expression and forced smile. “... um- nevermind.” Tubbo’s ear twitches slightly, and he hums in understanding. “That’s pretty cool that you’re an avian hybrid though.” 

He smiles at Tommy, trying to cheer him up a bit. “Hey, can I ask you something?” Tommy cocks his head to the side. “Mhm?” 

“Are we… Does this make us friends?” “...”

Friends? Are we... friends? The question lingers in Tommy’s mind. A friend. He would have a friend. Someone to talk to. He wouldn’t be alone anymore. Tommy nods, smiling broadly, taking in the fact someone wanted to be his friend and talk to him. “That would be great. Wonderful, actually. Yeah, I think we are.” 

Tubbo’s face lights up, and Tommy was sure if gravity wasn’t pulling him down Tubbo could fly with how pleased he looked. “Really?” Tommy laughs a bit, shaking his head. “Everybody could use friends, yeah? I know I do.” Tubbo nods in agreement. “I agree, I definitely need them.” Tommy laughed a little harder, and Tubbo suddenly had an idea.

“Hey, want to see something cool? C’mon follow me!” “Whoa there hold on-“ Tubbo grabs Tommy’s arm, rushing off. He keeps running until they reach a flower field, one Tommy didn’t ever know was in this forest. It was very pleasant to look at, quite a sight for his eyes. “Isn’t it so breathtaking?” Tubbo asked, giving Tommy’s hand a squeeze before letting go. “I heard that avians quite love flowers.” 

Tommy smiled, nodding, still slightly taken aback by the fact he didn’t know that this flower meadow was here. “Yeah... we do. It’s- it’s really nice Tubbo. I’ll have to show my dad this when he isn’t busy.”

They sat down, talking about their lives to each other, and then laughing about how bad they were at explaining things. Tommy and Tubbo just clicked. They laid down on the grass, looking at the clouds, pointing at them and saying what they looked like. “This one looks like a raccoon!” Tommy said, squinting his eyes at the sky. “What? No it doesn't! That’s definitely a bee!” The satyr boy retorted. “I don’t know what’s wrong with your eyes, Tubbo.” 

They enjoyed each other’s jokes and talks for a long time, side by side on the earthy floor beneath them. “You know, it’s really good to know you’re my friend, Tommy.” Tommy felt a warmth fill his chest, his wings flapping once or twice with happiness. He smiled, rolling over onto his stomach. “Yeah... same here. Friendship is nice to have, huh? Although, I’m a big man, so I didn’t really need friends but- thanks anyway.” Tommy added that last part quickly in an attempt to preserve his “big man” facade. Tubbo nods with a smile on his face, exhaling slightly and rolling his eyes. “Okay, man.”

“Have you ever heard of the poem ‘Ozymandias’”? Tubbo asked Tommy, rolling over as well. The blonde shakes his head. “It’s really good. I think you’d like it. Are you a fan of poetry?” Tommy shakes his head once more. “Not really, but if you’re recommending I read the poem I wouldn’t mind. Why, do you like poetry?” 

Tubbo smiles, nodding frantically. He was obviously excited to see that his new friend was willing to get into his interests. “I do! It’s so nice. Poetry is like the soul of a person in my opinion.” Tommy laughs slightly, raising an eyebrow. “Yeah? Is it?” “Yup! Poetry is... magical. It makes a person feel free. I love to feel free. Freedom is a great thing. It’s like a gift from the world to you... heaven in your head.” 

Tommy lays back again, watching the birds sing and dance with the wind. He enjoyed seeing them in the sky. He enjoyed seeing Tubbo happy, too.

The way he spoke about poetry was like how Tommy described how his mum was in life. Beautiful. Free. Kind. Magical. Heaven in your head. “Ah... it’s really important to you, then? Poetry?” Tubbo sighed softly, his nose twitching a bit as he closed his eyes. “Yeah. I would love to be a poet when I grow up.” “That must be nice to know what you’ll do. I have no clue. I doubt I could survive on my own, you know... Although if I had to pick... I think I want to be a soldier.” 

Tubbo flinches slightly at the word “soldier”. (A beat.)

“You okay?” Tubbo paused for a second before nodding. “Y-yeah I’m okay... it’s just-... why would you want to be in a war?” Tommy hesitated, before speaking. “I want to protect those I love... as much as I can. As much as possible. Plus I’d show off how pogchamp I am and how much better I am than everyone else there.” He said with a grin that very much said “why do I look so damn good” without him actually saying it, causing Tubbo to snort and laugh slightly before going slightly serious.

“I see... I don’t like war. Or fighting. It scares me.” Tubbo said, his face becoming sad, but he quickly tried to force a smile at Tommy. “I wouldn’t want to lose another person to it, you know?”

... 

“What do you mean?” Tommy asked, curious, but also concerned. “What do you mean ‘lose another person to it’?” Tubbo scratched the back of his neck slightly, laughing nervously. “Well- ... I lost quite a few family members to a war a while ago. It scared me and- and my aty- ati-” Tubbo made a noise of complaint as he struggled to voice the word. “Aty-chip-hobia… is through the roof because of it.” He finished off. Tommy made a confused face at the word, shrugging and assuming it meant something important. 

Tommy gave him a slightly sympathetic look, scooting a little closer to him and patting him on the shoulder. “I’m really sorry that happened to you, Tubbo... ” Tubbo nods, sniffling slightly. He was crying. Tommy, alarmed, tried to comfort him. “Hey, hey! Don’t cry... it’s okay. You’re okay.” Tubbo hugs Tommy tightly, as if his new friend would disappear. “Oof-”

Tubbo feels Tommy run his fingers through his hair, and he tries to relax a bit. “You’ll have to go home at some point, right?” He muttered into his shoulder. Tommy reluctantly nodded, groaning slightly. “Ugh... yeah... I do.” “Promise you’ll come back?” 

Tommy eventually pulled away from the hug, letting his hands fall at his sides. He gave Tubbo a genuine smile. “I promise.”

Chapter Text

Wilbur sat on his bed, gazing up at the ceiling. He sighed, knowing he had much homework to do, and little time to do it. He went into the bathroom attached to his room, going in front of the sink and splashing cold water on his face. He looked up at the mirror, eye to eye with his reflection. I’m a mess…I'm so ugly…I need to get myself together …he thought. Why do I look like this? He put his hands down on the sink, leaning on it slightly. I smell…and I need sleep… his inner critic was having a field day, screaming small notes about Wilbur’s appearance, degrading him.

Wilbur opened his mini fridge, pulling out a Red Bull and cracking it open. He took a large gulp, letting the caffeine hit his brain. He sat down at his desk, cracking his knuckles, and opening his laptop. His eyes scanned over his long list of assignments, and the fact that he would probably need to pull another all-nighter hit him like a truck. I shouldn’t have pushed all of my assignments to the end of the deadline. Wilbur opened his classes up, beginning to do the work. He reads over the first assignment he completed, an essay. Do it again. It’s bad. It’s terrible. I’ll never get into a good school with an essay like that. As if I could get into a good school anyway. Wilbur tried to ignore himself, turning in the essay and beginning to write another. He took another swig of the energy drink, leaning back in his chair. I need to stop with these. I’m addicted. I should take a goddamn look at myself. The world would be better off without me. Wilbur again tried his very best to disregard himself, but the voice in his brain was giving him a headache, and it was very difficult to neglect it. I’m not even interacting with anyone anyway…who would miss me, really? It’s bullshit, the things I’m telling myself. The stuff about my family caring about me? That I’ll find friends? I’m just lying to myself… “Shut up, me…” He muttered. “Shut up…I’m not worthless…people care about me.” That’s bs, and I’m very aware. He pushed away his own thoughts, typing the essay. Every press of a key took effort. His fingers could barely keep up with the demands Wilbur’s brain made. He drank another sip of the Red Bull, this time it was a rather large one. He could feel his heart rate increase, but he really didn’t care. He couldn’t care now, it's too late to care. He just continued to type…ignoring the voice that chanted at him to be better. 

Then, there’s a knock at the door. “Wil?” It’s his dad. “What is it now, father?” “When did you last eat?” Wilbur thought back, rewatching the day in his head. He had barely left his room…he hadn’t eaten. But he couldn’t tell his dad that. It would just concern him more, and he doesn't want to be a burden. I’m already a burden , he heard his head say. “I ate lunch a few hours ago.” Liar . “I had some soup. I’m not that hungry, father.” I’m such a liar. “Okay then…love you, Wil.” “Mhm…” Wilbur turns his attention back to his essay, finishing it. 

After what felt like forever, Wilbur finishes the majority of the assignments. He reads through his essays and workbooks for almost the 6th time, a total of 15 assignments completed. It was 7:07 when he started. It was now 11:34. He still had 8 things due though. But what if he took the 0/100? What if he just faced the cause of his actions? Then, he could sleep. But- he couldn’t sleep if he wanted to. I don’t deserve sleep. “Be quiet…” he mumbled to himself. He did want to sleep….he did. But then he looked over at his computer, and the 8 other tasks to do, and knew he couldn’t stop doing the work now. He also glanced at the empty Red Bull cans next to his computer. His brain felt scattered, and nauseous…

Suddenly, he felt his stomach flip, and it daringly threatened to throw itself out of his mouth. He covered his face, doubling over, his glasses falling off his nose and onto the ground. He had too much caffeine, not enough food. He reached out to pick up his glasses, but he could barely lift his hand to grab them. He collapsed to the floor, shaking. He tried to grab his chair for support, but failed. I brought this upon myself, huh? Wilbur knew it…he knew he couldn’t fight back against the consequences he forced onto his body. He tried to force it down. He was on his knees, the sickening taunt of vomit toying with his mind. Then- he shut down. He could resist no longer, as much as he wanted to, and he threw up. There was no food in his body to come back up, of course, but it didn’t matter. He gagged, choking on the fluid, trying to make his way to his trash can. He felt like he was about to die, the pain from the headache combining with the taste of throw up in his mouth to make an abomination of utmost discomfort. He managed to get over to the trash can, bending over it on his knees. Just when he thought it stopped- his stomach twisted, and stomach acid poured out of his mouth, mixing with his saliva. He felt terrible, tears began to stream down his face. He groaned, practically coughing up his pain. His head was spinning, his vision was blurry, he was shaking and coughing violently, and he couldn’t walk if he tried. The putrid feeling and taste throughout his mouth made him feel only worse, Wilbur was overwhelmed by his own suffering. 

He slowly got up, trembling. He had stopped crying, but the disgusting sickness in his body didn’t. He made his way over to the bathroom, looking up and down at himself in the mirror. He had thrown up all down his shirt and pants. He takes tissues and starts rubbing it off of his face, almost throwing up again from the smell. I deserved that. He thought to himself as he washed his hands.“I didn’t deserve that…it’s not my fault.” It is. I deserved that. It is definitely my fault. He got out a new T-Shirt, pulling off his now stained one. He looked at himself in the mirror again. He was so skinny…too skinny. Getting skinnier every week. This is fine…I don’t need to eat anything. I’m a waste of oxygen already, why be a waste of food, too? He sighed, putting the shirt on and running his hands through his hair. After he had cleaned himself up, he got to work on his floor. He took out paper towels and baking soda and began scrubbing at his floor. Once that was done, he went back into his bathroom.

He  slowly began walking downstairs, still ever so slightly shaking, trying not to become lightheaded.  Techno was sleeping on the couch, a documentary about potato farming playing on the TV. Philza must be in bed already, or he would have been sitting in the kitchen, reading, or muttering to himself. Tommy wasn’t in his room, but Wilbur didn’t really care where Tommy was as long as he wasn’t in his face being loud and obnoxious. As if on cue at Wilbur’s thoughts, Tommy walked through the front door, waving at him, full of energy although it was so very late. “Hey Wilbur! Oh you’ll never believe who I met today he’s a satyr-” “Tommy, I don’t care about your made-up stories.” He said harshly, his eyes narrowing a bit. “I really. Don't. Care.” Tommy looked a little shot down, his wings tucking behind his back as he stared at the floor. “Sorry Wilbur…” Wilbur’s gaze softened a bit. “Hey…I’m sorry I- I’m not having the best day- or the best week for that matter…” Tommy nodded and continued walking to his room. Wilbur sighed, now look what I’ve done… He leaned on the countertop of the kitchen, closing his eyes and letting out a shaky breath. He laid his head down on his arms, looking at the clock on the wall. Tick. Tick. Tick. Midnight. Wilbur blinked a couple of times, trying to calm the caffeine throughout his body, but it was no use. His brain was at a mile a minute. Tick. Tick. Tick. 12:30. Wilbur watched the big hand on the clock slowly make a 180. Tick. Tick. Tick. 12:50. Wilbur really wanted to sleep. He was getting there- but too slowly. He couldn’t see himself asleep any time soon. He ran his hands through the hair in front of his eyes, taking a deep breath. He went up to his room, and laid down on his bed. He was bored. He wished when he closed his eyes that they wouldn’t flutter open again. Then, he reminded himself that he had something he wanted to try. He knew it was bad for him- but it’s not like I’m going to get addicted like the Red Bulls, right? He’d been thinking about them a lot, wondering about them, ever since his friend gave the stuff to him to try out. He opened up his drawer, and pulled out the cigarettes.

…

…

…

The next morning, Tommy woke up to the pitter-patter of rain outside. He glanced over at his alarm clock. 6:48. He sat up in his bed and looked out of the window closest to him. It was thundering, and Tommy could see lightning across the sky. What a way to start the morning. He thought. He threw his sheets over his shoulder and tried to go back to sleep. It was too early. He shut his eyes tightly and was about to fall asleep when- All of the sudden…he was falling. No, no, not again! He opened his eyes and saw his surroundings disappearing. Like only just a few days before he was plummeting downward with darkness as his only company. 

He eventually landed on soft grass, thank god that he didn’t land on a cold floor. It was storming, like it just was, except Tommy felt the rain on his shoulders instead of seeing it from a distance. There was mud under his feet, and he quickly decided to look for shelter. He was in the past, that he knew from his previous experience, but he didn’t know where he was at all. As he shook his head from side to side, eyeing the sun as it set for a moment before spotting a rather large white building with a red cross. A hospital? He made his way to the front door of the building before entering. He felt a strange pull in his chest, almost like a pair of hands pushing him in a direction. He followed it, leading him to the “Labor and Delivery” floor. He found this rather odd, but chose to ignore it. Being honest, everything was rather odd in the past. 

He walked into the room that the force was directing him to, and as he looked, he realized what he was seeing. An infant version of him, crying rather loudly in the arms of a doctor. And on the bed where his mother should be- 

…

…

…

His father and brothers- no…not brothers, brother. Just Techno. His father and brother were sitting at his mother’s side. Crying. Techno’s hand on Philza’s shoulder. The doctors were talking to Phil, although their speech was obscured from Tommy’s ears. His mother…she was dead. But that’s not possible. He remembered playing with her as a kid. Wilbur would have come. What the hell was happening? No, that didn’t matter. This wasn’t happening. It can’t be happening. It’s illogical. And while Tommy was known for being it, this wasn’t just illogical. This couldn’t have ever happened in the past. I must have fallen asleep… Tommy thought. It was literally impossible. Suddenly, he fell through the floor of the hospital room once more and he fell. He gasped, the sudden decrease in height catching him off guard. He became extremely uncomfortable, that horrible lightheaded feeling coming to him. He shut his eyes tight, silently praying that he’d be okay. He tried to grab onto something, but he couldn’t find anything in the darkness. 

After an extremely long time, Tommy’s feet hit a soft surface. He opened his eyes, shaking his head side to side. He was back in his room, and the storm was back. His legs were intertwined with his sheets, and his head was against his pillow. “Just a nightmare…I knew it.” He muttered, smiling to himself. He stood up, pulling himself out of bed. He really didn’t like that dream, it made him feel a pang of fear and anxiety in his chest. It felt extremely realistic, like when he had traveled the past before. Of course, his mother had died fairly recently, and so she couldn’t have died when he was born. You’d have to be a fool to believe something like that. Although he knew it was fake, Tommy still couldn’t shake the unnerving feeling that lingered over him. He decided to go see Tubbo. If he learned anything from the books Phil bought for him about socializing, it was that good friends will be there for you when you need to tell them something. He went downstairs and pulled on a jacket and some shoes. “Dad, I’m going out!” Philza nodded, rubbing his eyes with a fist, yawning. “Alright Tommy…be back before lunchtime, okay?” Tommy smiled in acknowledgment to his dad’s words before leaving the house, making a run for the forest. 

“Tubbo? Tubbo!” He called. He listened for Tubbo’s response as his own voice echoed through the brambles. “Tommy?” That was Tubbo’s voice. “Tubbo? I’m here! I came to see you!” Tubbo appeared from behind the same oak from before, smiling and running up to Tommy to hug him. “I was waiting for you to come back, I’m glad you did!” Tommy hugged him back, smiling at the satyr. “I said I would, didn’t I? Hey…I have something to tell you. Something I haven’t told anyone yet.” Tubbo cocked his head to the side, his ear twitching slightly as he became curious. He sits down and indicates that the avian hybrid should do the same. “Oh? What is it?” Tommy hesitated, wondering if Tubbo would think that he’d gone mad. “Well… occasionally I have dreams. But- they’re not dreams…they’re real. Sometimes.” “Sometimes?” Tommy sighs, unsure of how to explain it. “Sometimes they are unrealistic. Impossible. They are always set in events that have already happened. Usually, it’s as if I’ve fallen into the past. But one that I lived through recently really confused and scared me.” Tubbo listened intently, nodding. Actually, unlike what Tommy had thought, Tubbo wasn’t looking at him as if he was crazy. He seemed…understanding? Like he knew what Tommy was talking about? After a prolonged period of silence, Tubbo opened his mouth to speak, but stayed quiet. 

…

…

…

“Me too.” He said eventually.

Chapter Text

TW & CW: Suicidal Thoughts, Smoking, Self Harm, and Gore.

The words echoed through Tommy’s brain, sending him spiraling into confusion. He opened his mouth, but closed it, his shock preventing him from using any forms of speech. “W–What did you say?” He finally stammered out. Tubbo gave him a weak, understanding smile. “I said, ‘me too’. What you’re describing, it’s almost exactly what happens to me. I never brought it up because…well…I didn’t want you thinking I’d gone mad. I couldn’t afford to lose a friend…my…only friend…” Tubbo said quietly. He stared at his feet for a moment, twiddling his thumbs. Eventually, Tommy’s mind stopped buffering, and was suddenly speeding at a thousand miles per minute. “Those were my thoughts exactly…” He muttered. Tommy’s questions and thoughts were unbearably loud inside his head. Are there more people who have these dreams, too? Or are we alone? Does Tubbo know the answer to these questions? Or is he just as bloody confuzzled as I am?! “So, uh…Tommy?” Tommy snapped back into reality and the sound of his friend's voice. “Yes?” Tubbo hesitated, before continuing. “Do you know if other people in the world have this happen to them too? Or is it…a unique trait specific to us? If you don’t know it’s okay- I don’t know either… that’s why I’m asking.” Tommy shrugged and shook his head. “I’m just as confused as you are, dude. We’re in the same boat here…But- you know what?” Tubbo looked up at his friend. “What?” Tommy grinned, crossing his arms over his chest, the feathers on his wings puffing up ever so slightly. “I think together we can figure this shit out. What do you say we try and piece together our puzzle, eh?” A smile creeped onto Tubbo’s face as he eagerly nodded. “Sounds like a plan! But where do we start…?” Tommy thought for a moment, racking his brain for ideas. “Hmm…” Tubbo patiently waited for Tommy to think, trying to find a place to begin as well. Then, Tommy’s face lit up. He had an idea.

…

…

…

Wilbur sat against the tree in their backyard, his back on the bark. He looked at the lit cigarette in his hand, then at the lighter in the other. He laughed softly under his breath. His friend was right, smoking felt amazing. Wilbur could feel his anxiety draining as he took another drag. Of course, he wasn’t going to be caught. No one was home. It was just him. His dad was horrible at evening out time for his sons. The time Wilbur got to spend with his dad was always so short. And they were always fighting anyway. At some point, Phil was barely around in Wilbur’s life anymore. If he tried to talk to his sons, it wouldn’t be about anything interesting. So there Wilbur was, very, very slowly fading into the background. 

I’m such a disappointment; he pointed out to himself. I should be like Techno…a straight A’s college student. Or like Tommy, such a good son...such a kind person if he tries to be. Wilbur brought the cigarette down from his lips, blowing smoke out of his mouth. I’m not smart nor kind, am I? Such a disappointment… would it really matter if I left this messed up world behind? Or ran away? Nope… not at all. He leaned his head back against the maple tree, looking up at the sky. The clouds slowly scooted along, and Wilbur watched as the cigarette smoke floated up, higher and higher, probably at some point joining the clouds above. He sighed, rolling the cigarette in between his fingers. If he was being honest with himself, he knew he was just being his inevitable death closer, but he didn’t care. Maybe I should smoke more so I die quicker and I won’t be a burden anymore. Maybe I should kill myself. He’s been considering it for a while now. I should just do it…He thought. He ran his fingers through his hair, letting out a long breath of smoke. Just die…He sat up, dropping the lighter and cigarette, stamping it out, extinguishing it, walking inside the house.

Wilbur saw at his reflection in a nearby window, his breath shaky. He was even skinnier than he was 2 days ago, and honestly? He just looked overall worse every time he saw himself. I’m going to die soon if I continue with this…oh well. He thought. I don’t care anymore… His mom cared when she was alive. She always made time for him. Now, no one did. He walked up to the window, looking himself up and down again. “If you won’t have to upkeep your appearance anymore…you won’t have to suffer anymore… you won’t worry about anything anymore…” He muttered to his reflection. That really did sound great…. He glanced at a sheet of paper and a pen on the table. He was ready to go. He wanted to go. He grabbed the paper and pen to write his note but stopped. Was he really doing this? He didn’t want to belong to this world anymore, why should he suffer? Then again, he should probably see his family at least one more time…He set the pen down along with the sheet of loose leaf, although the suicidal buzzing still rung in his ears. He opened the fridge, scanning the shelves for a Red Bull, exhaling softly. He found one, grabbing it with one hand and opened it with the other. He took a sip of it, letting the caffeine sink into his system.

This is probably the last time I’ll sleep…maybe second to last. Thank god I’ll be gone soon. Dad won’t have to worry about me, however it’s not like he does on normal basis. Tech and Tommy won’t have a shitty brother anymore, they’ll have each other. He felt the wood of the banister with his hand as he made his way up the stairs. Heh, I’m going to die a virgin. He joked to himself. Romance was never his thing. He didn’t have sexual attraction whatsoever, and his social anxiety doesn’t allow him to talk to people anyway. I’m gonna die without ever driving a car…that’s okay. Wilbur was scared of driving. Being in cars in general, actually. If he was in the back seat, he was afraid he might throw up. And when he was in the front, he had a low trust of drivers, no matter who they were. I’m gonna die without anyone hearing my songs but Tommy. That was an unfortunate one, Wilbur supposed. He considered his songs to be pretty good. He has had a hard time talking to people lately, that is, more than usual, and didn’t have any friends to start a band with. I’m gonna die..I’m gonna die...Everyone will be better off without me- is that true though? He thought to himself, pausing on the top step of the stairs. He sighed, his grip on the drink and banister tightening… yeah, it is. He made his way to his room, setting the red bull down, flopping onto his bed, his face in his pillow. “It is true.” Wilbur told himself. “It’s true…” He muttered it to himself over and over and over. “Worthless piece of shit…why were you born?” He asked himself, gripping the sheets beneath him tightly. He rolled over onto his back, tugging on his hair, shutting his eyes. “You can’t kill yourself yet…you know this, Wil.” He whispered. Tears pricked in his eyes…but they did not fall. He wrapped his arms around himself, his nails digging into the skin beneath them. “Feel pain, you deserve it…” He wanted to end his torturous life so desperately. He was suffering. The voices in his head growing louder every second. He begged them to shut up…they did not. He looked over at his bedside table, eyeing a sharp pair of scissors on it. He grabbed them from the tabletop. If I can’t die yet I can at least give myself the pain I deserve… He thought. Wilbur began cutting into the top of his left arm, and just for a moment this anxiety and self-hatred paused. After a few minutes he was bleeding, blood dripping down his arm into the floor. It felt so nice to cool down the pain in his brain. Physical pain pauses mental pain…right? It was great. And so he cut again…and again… and again. When he eventually took a break from cutting, he had 5…bleeding…gashes on his left arm. Blood oozed out, creating a small puddle of itself beneath Wilbur’s feet. He took a second to admire what he did as the tears of pain fell off his face. He laughed softly, just for a moment, he felt better. Just for a moment the pain in his head melted away. Just for a moment, he felt freedom. Freedom from the unbearable self-degrading inner critic. He loved it. He knew he should stop, but- it felt so relieving, did he have to? I mean, who was going to stop him? Knowing his father would ask about the cuts if he saw them though, he hesitantly set down the scissors, the blades now stained a dark red. Wilbur took a deep breath, and he could faintly smell the coppery aroma of the blood. He knew he had to clean it up before anyone got home, so he tried his best to hurry. He took paper towels from his bathroom, and as he pressed them onto his cuts, they turned a murky crimson. He applied pressure to each gash until the bleeding stopped. He then individually covered every cut with a Band-Aid or two. He threw and oversized sweatshirt to cover the traces of pain on his arm, and then proceeded to clean up his floor. He had just finished when he heard his dad come home.

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…

…

“Okay, hear me out, I’ve got an idea.” Tommy said. Tubbo tilted his head to the side, curious about what his friend was thinking. “What is it?” Tommy smiled widely, putting his hands on his hips. “The best way to learn is from experience. So, let’s try and trigger…whatever ‘it’ is.” Tubbo nodded, registering the plan in his head. “That sounds good…how would we ‘trigger it’ though? Just walk around until it happens?” “I would say that’s our best bet. I’m not sure if we would experience it at the same time.” Tommy answered. After talking a little more time to plan and think, they started walking around. “Are you sure walking around will trigger it?” Tubbo asked, his expression evident with doubt. “Er…” Tommy looked back at his friend, sighing, his hand on a tree. “No actually…but this is all we can do currently.” Tubbo nodded and they continued walking on the dirt path that winded like a river through the trees. They occasionally stopped for Tommy or Tubbo to draw an “X” with a stick, marking where they’ve already been in the mud.

It was almost dusk by the time they explored the entire forest, reaching the cliff at the end of it. Tubbo sat with his legs dangling off, tired out and exhausted. “Not feeling lightheaded at all, are ya bossman?” Tubbo asked, looking over at Tommy, who had just come back for stubbornly running around the cliff clearing…again. Tommy bent down, an annoyed expression on his face, his hands on his knees as he caught his breath. He shakes his head. “No.” He said bitterly. “Nothing.” Tubbo could feel the frustration pouring out of his friend. He sighed. “That’s unfortunate.” Tommy laughed, rolling his eyes. “You could say that again! We’ve been searching for hours! It’s ridiculous! We haven’t found shit! “I know…why is this so hard?” Tubbo replied. Tommy huffed, shrugging. “I don’t know! When I want it to happen it doesn’t, and when I don’t, IT DOES!” He kicked a nearby tree in frustration, breathing heavily. “Calm down Tommy we could try again tomorrow just be pa-" “IF YOU HAVEN'T NOTICED TUBBO, I AM NOT A PATIENT PERSON!” Tommy shouted, making Tubbo flinch. He caught himself, realizing he was yelling at his best friend. “S-sorry I’m just-" He took a deep breath, exhaling softly. “The fact that we haven’t had anything happen when we’ve been trying to trigger ‘it’ for hours is pissin’ me off…” The satyr nodded. “I understand…but let’s try to be positive! When life gives you lemons-“ “You have to take them and squirt them back into life’s eyes because life is a dick.” Tommy finished. Tubbo paused, but laughed. “Not what I was gonna say but um- alright.” Tommy nodded, sitting down next to Tubbo. For a long while, they talked about simple things, like what they’ll do when they grow up, or how life at home is. “You mean…it’s just you… and your mum? No one else?” Tubbo nodded his head. “My older brothers died in a war…my stupid, deadbeat dad left us to go be an alcoholic.” Tommy frowned. “Oh…that’s sad.” “Mhm…” The two continued talking, laughing at happy things, almost crying at sad ones. “Wait…” Tommy said through a fit of laughter. “You’ve never had ice cream before??” “Nooo….? What is that?” “Oh my god you poor guy we have got to get ice cream some time, dude. It’s SOOOO GOOD!!” Tubbo cocked his head to the side, smiling a bit. “Umm…okay?” Tommy nodded at Tubbo’s agreement. “Great! We could go tomorrow, if you want?” “That sounds good…yeah…tomorrow!” Tommy looked up at the sky, only the top of the sun was visible in the horizon now. “I should probably go, my old man might start to worry, hah.” He sat up, sighing. “Bye, Tubs, see you tomorrow.” “Bye bossman.” Tommy ran off, as Tubbo waved at him. “YOU ARE GOING TO LOVE ICE CREAM!” Tommy yelled. Tubbo laughed, watching as his friend slowly faded from view, lost to the forest.

…

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…

Philza fidgeted with his keyring, looking for the key that unlocked the front door. He found it, sliding it into the lock and turning it. He pushed open the door, tucking his coal-colored wings behind him so as to not hit them on the doorframe. “Wilbur! Tommy! I’m home!” He called, taking off his jacket and hanging it on the coat rack beside the door. “Tom isn't home yet, dad!” He heard his middle child call. “Okay, Wil!” Philza said in response. He sat down on the couch, turning on the television. He flipped through the channels, but nothing entertained him. He turned it back off, heading upstairs to his room, passing Wil’s on the way. He sat down on his bed, leaning his head back against the headboard. He closed his eyes, letting them rest. It had been a long day.

Chapter Text

The second he heard his alarm go off, Tommy shot up in bed. He was waking up bright and early today, no sleeping in! Today, he introduced Tubbo to ICE CREAM. He took the clothes from his chair that he’d laid out the day before, changing into them. Tommy then ran as fast as his legs could carry him downstairs, grabbing two Eggos from the freezer and tossing them in the toaster. 

While the waffles were thawing out, he grabbed a random mug from the cabinet, a packet of hot cocoa powder, and the whipped cream canister. Philza came downstairs when Tommy started to heat water on the stove. “Waffles and hot chocolate?” He said as he glanced at the toaster and heating tea kettle, raising an eyebrow. “What's the occasion?” Tommy ran across the kitchen, taking the Eggos out of the toaster, purposefully ignoring his dad. He hadn’t told his dad about Tubbo yet, for whatever reason, and didn’t have time nor the motivation to explain their meeting thoroughly. He really didn’t care about his dad or siblings knowing about his friend, but he didn’t feel like saying anything just yet. “Tom’s?” “Er- nothin’ dad. I’m just going out to get ice cream with um- a friend.” Philza registered the information, smiling slightly, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall, wings relaxed. “A friend? Do I know them? Or their parents?” Tommy poured maple syrup on his now heated waffles. “No but- you’ll meet him soon.” He quickly made his way over to the stove as the kettle hissed. He poured the chocolate powder into the mug and topped it off with whipped cream as his father looked at him, skeptical. “Uh huh… well, maybe he can come over sometime for dinner. Just let me meet his parents first. Here…” Phil scribbled a few numbers on a post-it, sticking it to Tommy’s back, chuckling slightly. “Give that to your friend, mate. Tell him to give it to his mum.” Tommy, with a mouth full of syrup-y waffles, nodded, grabbing the post-it off his back and shoving it into his pocket.

He downed his hot chocolate, burning his lip only slightly, placing the now empty mug down in the sink, along with his plate and utensils. He paused , the sudden lack of movement making his wing twitch. Tommy’s eyes darted around the kitchen as he made a mental list of things that he needed to do before he left. He then ran back upstairs to the family bathroom, splashing water on his face, and grabbing his deodorant and hair brush. He brushed out the feathers on his wings and his messy blond hair, as they were both ruffled from his recent speeds. He put on the deodorant, grabbing his toothbrush at the same time, almost knocking over the soap dispenser and Techno’s hair-product-shit He rushed to apply toothpaste to the toothbrush, shoving it in his mouth and brushing his teeth. Once he had finished, he placed the toothbrush, hair brush, deodorant, and toothpaste back in their respective places. Tommy then proceeded to go downstairs AGAIN, this time heading straight to the door, pulling on a red and white windbreaker, dusky-grey sneakers, and a green scarf. He was about to introduce someone to the deer, sugary, heavenly dairy delight that was ICE CREAM! This was VERY important, and he had no time to waste. He sprinted as fast as he could to the forest. When it finally came into view, Tomm could already see a figure waiting for him. “Bossman! You’re here! That’s great!” It called. Tommy waved, a smile spreading across his face as he neared his friend.

“Hey Tubs. Read to try ice cream?” The satyr nodded. “Based on how excited you are, and have been, about it, and how you’ve described it, yes, yes I am!” Tommy grinned, liking the response. “Trust me, it’s like- the most poggers thing on the planet. “What does…‘poggers’ mean?” Tubbo asked. “I’ll explain on the way, c’mon!” 

The two boys walk into town, and it was evident Tubbo hadn’t been there before, despite being so close all the time. Tommy laughed as Tubbo “ooh”-ed at the shop windows and pointed at the different things for sale. “Look, there’s the ice cream shop!” Tommy directed Tubbo to the parlor, holding open the door. “It smells nice in here.” Tubbo commented, before his attention was quickly stolen by the large chalkboard that read “ICE CREAM FLAVOURS!”. “What’s the best one?” Tommy thought for a second. “You look like a mint chocolate chip kind of guy. Try that.” Tubbo nodded, taking a look over the glass box that contained the mint chocolate chip and cookie dough flavors. “Hmm…what are you getting?” “Me?” Tommy asked. “Um…” He took a look at the list. “I’m going to get a banana split.” Tubbo looked back at his friend, slightly puzzled. “There are fruit flavored ice creams?” The avian hybrid let out a small laugh and shook his head. “Well yes, but that’s not what a banana split is. It’s a peeled banana on top of ice cream with whipped cream, chocolate sauce, nuts, and an optional cherry. It’s a very good desert!” Tubbo nodded, understanding. “It does sound good, bossman!” Tommy nodded, walking up to the cashier. “Hey dude!” An older teenager with poofy yellow wings and a head of untamed black hair underneath a beanie was fiddling with the soft serve machine behind the counter, perking up at Tommy’s voice, turning his head over his shoulder. “Ayy, man! What good? Popping off as always I presume. Who’d you bring with you?” He looked over Tommy’s shoulder at Tubbo. “He’s kinda small.” Tommy sighed, moving over and bringing Tubbo foward. “You’re pretty short for your age yourself, Big Q.” The cashier rolled his eyes at Tommy’s words. “Cállate, I’m taller than both you and this shortie. Anyway…” He addressed Tubbo, smiling welcomingly. “I’m Quackity, nice to meet you. What’s your name, shortstack?” “Tubbo… Nice to meet you too.” “We’ll have a 2 scoops of mint chocolate chip ice cream and uh, you know what I want, Q.” Tommy said. Quackity nodded, turning around to get a scooper. “Two scoops of mint chocolate chip ice cream and a vanilla banana split without nuts nor a cherry and extra sprinkles coming right up! Just have a seat there.” Quackity pointed at two unoccupied bar stools at the counter with his wing, as he started to scoop out ice cream. Tommy and Tubbo sat down, waiting. “So do you know him, Quackity I mean, from just being here a lot or…?” Tubbo asked. Tommy smiled. “Yeah. I like ice cream a lot if you couldn’t tell.” Tubbo laughed under his breath. “I can tell.” “Big Q was in my older brother’s class for like, a year…? A little less? They are both 17 but my bro got bumped up 2 grades and graduated, and Q got held back a year. So while Tech is in college, Q is redoing 10th grade.” Tommy sighed, thinking back a few years. “I was passing by my brothers room one day when I heard someone over call askin’ him to do their homework. When I heard that, I wanted to meet this guy! I mean, it’s genius! Why didn’t I think of asking the snark kid to do the work for me? Of course, I'm not enrolled in school so it's different work, but still!” Tubbo nodded once more, processing. 

He was about to ask something else regarding what Tommy had said about school when Quackity placed two plates in front of them. One, Tubbo’s, with two mint chocolate chip ice cream scoops and sprinkles, and another, Tommy’s, a tasty-looking abomination that Tubbo didn’t even know where to begin with describing it. A banana split loaded with fudge, vanilla ice cream, whipped cream, what seemed to be 3 different types of sprinkles, and crushed up cookie bits. “I’m warning you Tommy,” Quackity said, looking Tommy dead in the eyes. “I packed this bitch with extra sugar today. This is diabetic people’s worst nightmare.” Tommy laughed. “No warning has ever stopped me.” Quackity nodded. “Oh, I know. Let’s not have a repeat of the 40 scoop incident, okay? Make sure to eat a little slower than that .” He gave them both spoons, turning to Tubbo. “I can tell it’s your first time in an ice cream parlor. Enjoy!” Quackity smiled at them both before going back to the cash register and serving the other customers.

Tubbo laughed. “How did he know?” Tommy shrugged. “Quackity is like the ice cream whisperer. He just knows.” “Also- …the fuck is the 40 scoop incident?” He asked Tommy, who was already digging in. He paused, wiping vanilla ice cream off his nose, a place Tubbo was unsure how he got ice cream there. “Heh?” “What is the ‘40 scoop incident’?” “Ohhhhh….” Tommy smirked, leaning his chin in his hand, elbow on the table, setting his spoon down in the bowl. “Q had this challenge a couple months back that if you could eat 40 scoops of ice cream, topped with sprinkles and everything, in under 10 minutes, you and all your friends could eat free for 3 years . You can’t throw up either, or complain of stomach ache!” Tubbo processed this, having an idea where it was going. He didn’t know what was more gross, Tommy succeeding or failing this challenge. Either would really be diabolical to observe…really gross. “What, did you try it and fail or something?” Tommy’s grin grew. “Did you see me pay?” Tubbo’s jaw dropped. “There's no way… you didn’t! Tommy, that's disgusting! How did you not throw up?” Tommy shrugged, picking his spoon back up.

“I dunno, but it was bloody worth it though! Now try your ice cream!” Tubbo looked down at his bowl, picking up his own spoon as well. He took a bite of the ice cream, tasting its flavor. Holy hell, was it amazing. “Holy shit bossman, this is good!” He said, taking another scoop. “I know!” “Was it worth absolutely violating your stomach though?” Tommy nodded vigorously. “Frickin’ hell yes!” They both laughed, enjoying each other's company.

When they finished their ice cream, they said goodbye to Quackity, before wandering out, back into the bustling streets. As they walked, Tommy thought of something he’d been meaning to ask. “Er- Tubbo? There’s something I would like to know, that is…if you want to answer. It’s kind of personal.” Tubbo looked at Tommy, seeing how his friend wasn’t looking at him. “What is it?”

 “…well…I was talking about my brother in there and I was just wondering what your bros were like…? A-and if I’m making you uncomfortable by asking, you don’t have to answer…” Tubbo’s smile faded a bit before returning. “No, it’s okay. I could tell you about them!” Tommy felt a little better now that he knew Tubbo was okay with answering questions about his brothers. Tubbo thought about what to say, or what to start with. He thought about what his brothers were like, and tried to remember their personalities to the best of his ability. “So, I’m the youngest, like you. My oldest brother, his name was Foolish. We all had green eyes but his eyes shined the brightest, like emeralds. He was loyal…and kind… mum called him ‘her totem of undying friendliness.’… haha…He was…the best.” Tommy nodded, putting a hand on Tubbo's shoulder. “I’m sure I would have liked him.” “My other brother was Clay- we called him Dream…because he was the one providing the most for our family. Keeping our family’s ‘dreams’ of things getting better than they were.” “That’s…really nice Tubbo. You’re lucky you got along with your brothers. I don’t get on well with-…” He didn’t finish, frowning slightly and looking at his shoes, not looking at Tubbo as they walked.

Uncomfortable, Tubbo decided to change the subject. “Hey, chin up king, your crown is falling. How about we discuss something else?” Tommy’s mood seemed to shirt, his smile returning. “‘Kay. What should we…WAIT I'VE GOT AN IDEA!” He exclaimed, grabbing Tubbo’s arm and pulling him along as he ran along the sidewalk. He stopped eventually, in front of a sign that read “Arcade!”. “You are going to love this, Tubs. Just you wait!” They walk inside, their faces immediately lit up with the pale lights from the screens and the smell of childhood. “Ever been to an arcade before?” Tommy asked. When Tubbo shook his head in response, Tommy’s shock was evident. “Okay let me explain it. You pay like, a range of 1-5 dollars for tickets, right?” “Right…?” “Right. If you win, you get tickets,” Tommy smirked, it was  obvious that these “tickets” were very important, at least to him. “-and you can trade in tickets for prizes at the prize counter.” “Uh huh…” Tubbo eyed the prize counter, looking at the prizes. He particularly liked the small bed next to a giant raccoon.

They played games for about 2 hours, loading and winning back to back. They eventually had a grand total of 350 tickets. The two boys walked up to the counter, and Tommy bought the giant raccoon. “Just look at it, it’s beautiful.” He said. “You’re gonna carry that around?” Tommy thought for a second, then shrugged and nodded. Tubbo laughed at that. “Okay, then.” 

They exited the arcade, walking back into the sun. It shone bright and warm on their faces.“My mum said to come back when the sun is starting to go down.” Tubbo stated. Taking a look at the sky, Tommy assumed they had about 5 or 6 hours. “Okay…do you wanna sit down somewhere? What do you wanna do?” “Hmm…well, is there anything else ‘in town’ to do? Like, interesting things, I mean?” Tubbo inquired, obviously optimistic about exploring the unknown area. “We could always go to Halo’s.” Tommy suggested. Tubbo cocked his head to the side. “Halo’s…?” “The ultimate hangout spot.” Tommy said, a flare of excitement rushing through him. “Halo’s. Quackity’s buddy, Bad, runs the place with his friend Skeppy. Although, I think they might be dating. Halo’s is like a club to escape parents, however there are a few rules that Bad has, which Skeppy and Quackity reluctantly agreed to enforce. Big Q works there for a couple bucks every now and then as a dealer. There’s a section to gamble, usually the prize is candy, but older teens sometimes play for alcohol, money, or…y’know older teen stuff.” Tommy continued to ramble about the place, and before they knew it, they were there. 

“Just a few more things before we go in, alright big man?” Tubbo nodded listening carefully. Tommy cleared his throat. “Don’t make eye contact with any larger, older, lookin’-like-they-could-mess-you-up-real-good teenagers unless you wanna fight. Trust me, you don’t. Neither of us can take them on. Next thing- don’t try to gamble for ‘older teen stuff’. Quackity would let you, but Bad and Skeppy don’t if your under 14.” Tubbo thought over what Tommy said, repeating it to himself to ensure understanding. “I wasn’t going to anyway. What else should I know?” Tommy ran his fingers through his curls, trying to remember if there was anything else Tubbo should know. “Ah! Yes…there is.” Tommy said, suddenly recalling Bad’s rules. “The rules. Very important. Number 1: Each person must pay a $5 entrance fee.” This made Tubbo a little anxious and he bit his lip. “I didn’t bring any money out.” Tommy sighed, smiling and nodding. “Yeah, I know. I’ll pay for you just pay me back okay? The arcade and ice cream were my treat since it was your first time.” Tubbo lightened up at his friend’s words, his anxiety and slight embarrassment being shaken off. “Thanks, Bossman.” “Next rule.” Tommy said, becoming a little serious again. “Swearing is fine as long as you don’t do it around Bad. Skeppy dosent care. Bad will ‘language’ you if you swear around him. Kind of annoying, but it’s a rule. Breaking rules once gives you a warning, twice gets you kicked out for the day, three times gets you banned for a month.” Tommy paused, making sure Tubbo heard that bit loud and clear. When he nodded in confirmation that he understood, Tommy continued. “It's 13+. Bad and Skeppy have been letting me in since I was 11 though, because Wilbur’s my brother and Quackity’s my friend. Wilbur helped Bad write the rules, the bitch…you’re 13 right Or are you 12? I don’t remember.” “I’m 13.” Tubbo replied. Tommy huffed softly with frustration of having his friend be older than him, but quickly smiled again. “Okay good. I turn 13 next month so- you aren’t that much older than me! Anyway…I think that’s it. Oh wait! If you tell any parents about this place whatsoever, no matter whose, Bad and Skeppy, more Skeppy but still both of them, could get in trouble not only with their parents but the cops. They don’t have alcohol administering licenses or anything like that. Got it?” “Mhm.” “Pog.” Tommy said. “Alright…” 

He took out his wallet, giving the giant raccoon to Tubbo for a moment. “C’mon.” He walked up to the door, his friends following close behind. A short, brunette boy stood with his back against the door, playing with what looked like slime in his hands. He was, Tubbo assumed, the bouncer. When the bouncer saw them, the slime seemed to melt into his fingers, he straightened his glasses and blocked their way. “Oh hi, Tommy from ‘Minecraft household’! Entrance fee?” Tommy placed $10 dollars in the bouncer’s hand. “You’ve overpaid, I think.” The bouncer said. Tommy stepped aside to the left to reveal Tubbo behind him. “Oh! A newbie! What’s your name, and where ‘ya from?” “Tubbo…from uh…the forest?”  “He’s 13.” Tommy added. The bouncer smiled, he seemed to be satisfied. “Welcome, Tubbo from ‘The Forest’! You guys can enter!” The bouncer opened the door, letting them through. “Thanks, Charlie.” Tommy said, walking through the door. Tubbo waved at the bouncer, “Charlie”, and followed Tommy in.

Chapter Text

   As soon as they walked in, a number of yells could be heard, and music filled the room. There was a pungent smell of- well…teenagers. Not a great smell, but whatever. As Tubbo looked around Halo’s, he realized just how many kids in the city of L’manburg were eager to get away from their parents. It was pure chaos. “Isn’t it great, Tubs?” Tommy asked, a proud smile on his face. “It’s a little…” “Awesome? Wonderful?” Tommy prompted. “Chaotic.” Tubbo finished. “I’ll tell you something, how these teenagers are acting is nothing compared to the coo-coo people that come arounddddd… uhhh…5:00. I don’t think we should stick around till then.” Tommy stated ominously, making Tubbo slightly intimidated by this ‘awesome’ and ‘wonderful’ teen club. As the satyr looked around he saw different types of teenagers. Teens getting high… teens getting drunk… gossiping teens… idiots playing dumb tricks… and what seemed to be a cult of some form in the corner that Tubbo certainty wasn’t going near. “Hey, is this place… safe?” Tommy shrugged. “Usually. Oh wait here-” He takes Tubbo’s bee and his raccoon and stuffs them in a rather large locker off to the side, both plushie’s faces cramped into their bodies. “There are basically no restrictions but Bad’s rules, go crazy. It’s like a party. A never ending party!” Tommy said. He guided Tubbo over to a large table, picking up a glass of… what looked like fruit punch. He pointed to a plate of muffins. “Try one of those. Bad’s mum makes them, they’re really good! I’m surprised they haven’t run out yet, it’s already mid-day…” Tubbo picked up a muffin, eating off a piece. It was good. “Mmm…” He murmured. “I know right?” Tommy said, eyeing his fruit punch suspiciously, not drinking it. “You gonna drink that, bossman?” Tommy held up a hand, shushing Tubbo. Instead of answering, he sniffed the top of the cup, wrinkling his nose and rolling his eyes. “What?” Tubbo asked, confused. “Someone put alcohol in the punch again.” Tubbo looked surprised, raising his eyebrows. “Probably some stupid ass gits. Annoying bastards…” Tommy muttered. “I’ll tell Skeppy. Unless you feel like getting drunk, don’t drink a lot of that. He said, nodding at the punch. They walk away from the table to find Skeppy, or- at least Tubbo guessed that’s what they were doing. Tommy paused, looking back at Tubbo.”You’re pretty strong, yeah?” He nodded. “Yeah, but why?” “Can I climb up on your shoulders? I can’t see over all these people.” Tubbo blinked, registering what Tommy had said. “Er- okay…” He kneeled down, letting his friend climb up. The avian hybrid took a look over all the heads of the people, looking for Skeppy. Then, he smiled. “Got him.” He climbed back down, running through the crowd, Tubbo trailing behind him, wiggling through people.

   “Hey, Skeppy!” Tommy called. A tall kid, probably around the age of 17, turned around. “Eh? Oh hey Tommy. What is it?” “Someone spiked the punch with alcohol. Again.” Skeppy rolled his eyes, cursing under his breath. “Thanks, Bad and I will take care of it.” Skeppy took off, heading to the refreshment table. “So… does that happen often, then?” Tubbo asked. “Uh…sometimes. It usually depends on how wasted the older kids get.” Tommy replied. Tubbo was starting to get a feeling that this place was a bad influence, but didn’t say anything. “How about we go talk to Bad?” Tubbo nods, although judging by the place, he was uneasy about the person who runs Halo’s.

   Tommy knocked on a brown, oak door. “Baddddd? It’s Tommy! I have someone I want you to meet!” Bad opened the door, looked down at them, his devil tail flicking back and forth behind him. It turns out, Bad looked and seemed nothing like how Tubbo had expected him to be. He’d thought he'd be threatening, and reckless. He wasn’t threatening at all, actually. Quite the opposite. He had brown hair and dark green eyes, although Tubbo could have sworn on his mother that they had glinted red a few times. He wasn’t a small guy, but he did look a little shorter than Skeppy. He has thin-bridged glasses, with two crimson horns poking out of the top of his head. A kind smile topped him off. When he saw Tubbo, his lips immediately curled into an even wider smile. “Awwwhhh! Tom, you brought me a new muffin?!” “He calls the people who visit ‘muffins’” Tommy said off to the side. “Welcome to the family! I am Bad Boy Halo, I know, I have no idea what my parents were thinking, but you can call me Bad!” He said, a friendly look on his face. “What do I call you?” “Uh- Tubbo.” Bad took Tubbo’s hand, shaking it vigorously and enthusiastically. “Nice to meet you, Tubbo! Always happy to have new friends.” “We just came to say ‘hi’, Bad.” Tommy said. “And for introductions. If you’re in the middle of something, we could go.” Bad sighed, nodding. “I’m afraid I’m quite busy. I have to work out expenses. Quackity is our finance manager and he’s working late at the ice cream shop today.” “Ah.” Tommy said. “We just saw him today, actually.” Tubbo said, speaking up. “Tommy introduced me to ice cream.” “Isn’t it crazy, Bad? He lives quite close to town but his ass has-“ “Ah! Language!” Bad snapped, although he was still smiling slightly. Tommy nodded sheepishly, sort of embarrassed, putting a hand on his neck. “Oh..yeah…sorry Bad…what was I saying? Oh- yes. Y’know, Tubbo lives close to town, and yet he’s never actually gone into it! He’s never had ice cream before today.” Bad raised an eyebrow at that, laughing slightly, turning to Tubbo. “Wait, really? You’ve never had ice cream before a couple hours ago?” Tubbo nodded, now also embarrassed. He was starting to realize that not having ice cream until the age of 13 wasn’t exactly an average experience. He laughed nervously, going pink in the face. “Heym nothing to be embarrassed about! Think of it as a unique thing you can use as a conversation starter!” Bad said, patting Tubbo on the head. Tubbo’s ear twitched at the sudden physical touch, but he did enjoy head pats. “Alright, BBH, we can go now if you’d like.” Tommy said. Bad looked over his shoulder at the large pile of papers on his desk, huffing. “Yeah, best you get a move on…go back to the main room, I suppose.” Tubbo and Tommy nodded in unison and agreement. “Bye, Bad.” Tommy said. “G’bye.” Tubbo added on. Bad waved, shutting the door. “Bye, ya muffins!” The boys headed back into the room where everyone else was, the volume of voices ever increasing.

   “Sooooo, what do you think?” Tommy asked, obviously not noticing his uneasy Tubbo had been,having a rather good time himself. “Um…” Tubbo smiled nervously. “You’ve been here since…the age of 11…?” “Mhm!” Tommy hummed. “And…it never occurred to you that this place is not exactly…well…good for you?” Tubbo asked him, a look of curiosity and genuine concern on his face. Tommy considered the thought, confused. He shook his head. “Uh…no?” Mostly everyone is nice, closest people I have to friends before you… you are the only friend I have. Great for friendly conversations!” Tubbo gave Tommy a skeptical look, similar to the one his father had given him before he had left the house. “But think about it. Does an extroverted yet lonely 11 year old around wasted, trouble making  dumbass teens sound like a good situation?” Tommy was starting to understand what he meant. “I-I guess not?” “Does- does a guy who's not even a teenager yet trying to escape his parents and hanging around with high people way older than him sound like a healthy situation, bossman?” Tommy tucks his wings behind his back, slightly ashamed and annoyed at the same time. Tubbo’s gaze softened, seeing his friend’s face and body language. “Sorry Tommy- I didn’t mean to uh…shut down your excitement about sharing this place with me it's just that-…it’s not exactly a safe or suitable environment for a kid.” Tommy crossed his arms, still upset. “I just thought I’d share it with you…you didn’t have to comment.” Tubbo scoffed, letting out a small laugh, confused. “I-I’m sorry- did you not just ask me ‘what do you think?’?” “I-“ Tommy did have a comeback and went quiet, clenching his fists. “Let’s go then…” he said after a while. Tubbo didn’t notice at the time, but the sun was about to go down. The two of them, not talking, walked out of Halo’s. Arctic blue eyes avoided and ignored Jade ones, and Tubbo’s heart sank and ached at the fact that Tommy didn’t want to talk to him. The silence was so loud, it hurt their ear drums. They made their way to the forest, Tommy stopped at the entrance. “…see you later I guess.” “Mm..”

   Tubbo began to walk away before there was a loud “BANG!”. Alarmed, the boys looked around. “You heard that too right?” Another bang was heard, making the nearby crowd flinch and take to the sky. The world was shaking, trembling. Before he knew it, Tommy was falling. It was the worst possible time for this to happen. The world had become a blur- and endless code with no visible way of escape. Tommy could see his friend falling too, and wondered if Tubbo would join him in the past. If so- whose past would they explore? And did he really want to find out? After what felt like eternity, they landed on grass, and the world materialized around them. Smoke blurred their vision, and there was a ringing in their ears. Everything burned, fire blazed trails of itself through the fields, and blood painted every pathway red, like the world was its canvas. The screams and yells of people made Tommy feel uneasy…scared. The world seemed to be ending. Tubbo was pale and quivering, but remained decently calm, like he’d seen this all before. And judging by their current situation, and the sickening gut feeling Tommy had in his stomach, it was very possible that he had. None of this was new to the satyr.

   A triumphant yell echoed loudly across the battlefield and many troops of men left, leaving it eradicated. It had seen much better days. As smoke cleared and fire died down, ash fell from the sky. “…” Tubbo walked forward, looking around at the dying vicinity. Tommy followed, observing. It was a camp, or at least, it might have been…a lifetime ago… Cabin-like structures that looked like small houses burned down, and every crop had been cooked to a crisp. They soon heard crying, and they turned to view what was making the noise, even though Tubbo knew already. There was a large, slender satyr figure lying in the roasted grass, its chest not rising nor falling. Bright green emerald-like eyes stayed open without blinking, glossy and still reflecting the pain of their owner. A red liquid coated the body’s legs and torso, splattered along their face as well. “That person must have fought valiantly. Big man, he was, I can tell.” Tommy said to Tubbo. “That person is dead.” Tubbo muttered flatly. A satyr boy, maybe around the age of 9 or 10, maybe even 11, knelt down at the figure’s side, shaking it violently, crying. “Can’t that kid see they’re dead?” Tubbo didn’t reply and just watched the child, breathing shakily. “You said you wouldn’t die on us, asshole!” The child yelled. “You promised! Y-YOU PROMISED! So WAKE UP!” The child continued to shake the body, his face stained with blood and tears. “Please!” He begged. “Not you too…!” Giving up, the kid curled up in the body’s limp arm, hugging his knees, frustrated and- devastated…“Not you too…” he mumbled. Tommy heard sniffling, and looking over at Tubbo, he saw his friend was crying. “Tubs…?” Tubbo didn’t acknowledge him, and walked up to the child, kneeling down next to them. Looking between Tubbo and the satyr child, Tommy finally put 2 and 2 together. “Oh…” That child was Tubbo. The dead body must have been one of his…one of his brothers. Tubbo and his younger self spoke in unison. “You said we’d watch the sunset tonight. You promised that you and Mum and Clay and me would all watch the sunset once we’d won!” Tommy sat down next to Tubbo, putting an arm around him. “Foolish, goddamn it, please! Say something!” The younger Tubbo pleaded.  Tommy could hear the pain dripping from his throat. “Blink! Breath! Foolish, I c-can’t lose another brother today!” The scene around them faded, leaving Tubbo and Tommy sitting in the dark. “He promised…” Tubbo whispered. Tommy paused, sighing, rubbing circles on Tubbo’s back. “Sometimes p-people go back on their promises.” “But that’s not fair..what’s the point of promising then?!” Tubbo asked, frustration, weakness, and pain mingling together in his voice and mind. “Sometimes…” He hesitated, his eyes watering as well now. “Sometimes… people are forced to go back on their promises…I should know…” Tubbo looked up at his friend from his knees, the tears beginning to form lines of salt in his cheeks. “You see…” Tommy said, his voice breaking. “My father once made a p-promise to me…a long time ago…That he would make time for me. And for a bit, h-he did! And it was grand! And great! But…” He took a deep breath. “But?” Tubbo asked. “But when Mum died…he broke his promise… and fell apart. You see certain things make people break their…p- promises….” Tubbo nodded, letting out a shaky breath. “…y-yeah.”

   As Tubbo began to calm down, everything went cold. But to Tommy’s relief, it quickly became warm again, and soon enough they were back in the forest. “So… that was Foolish, then?” Tommy asked carefully. Tubbo nodded, still quietly sobbing. It was dark by now, stars dancing in between the clouds, the moonlight as their spotlight and the dark navy blue sky as their stage. “I-I suppose we’d- you’d- we better get going then, huh?” Tubbo grunted in agreement, getting up. He was about to go back home but he stopped, turning back to face Tommy. “I-…” he sighed, his eyes lowering. “I’m sorry about Halo’s, Tommy…” Tommy’s gaze softened at the apology, not expecting it. “Ah…y’know… s’okay… both for everyone.” Tubbo nodded, smiling weakly before leaving Tommy alone on the edge of the forest.

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Chapter Text

  Wilbur scratched the back of his neck, looking at himself in the mirror. It had been…a few days since he’d cut himself. The scars were healing. But he wasn’t. Today was the day. He won't get older anymore.  Nothing will hurt him anymore. His life can’t get any worse if it’s broken. If it’s non-existent. He’ll be back with his Mum. He could almost feel her warm arms around him, comforting him. She was calling him. Calling him home… He took one last look at himself…a soon-to-not-be-living body. A walking corpse. He gripped a note in his left hand and the rim on the sink with the other. He glimpsed at the razor along the sink, and grabbed it… “You’re almost there.” He said to himself. He could almost see his mum already. He began to drag the blade along his wrists. It hurt, but it wouldn’t for long. He sliced into his wrists, blood spilled and Wilbur’s skin got caught on the blades, peeling back. Wilbur gasped in pain, eyes watering, clenching his jaw. Blood dyed his hands red, pooling around his fingertips and slowly dripping onto the bathroom floor. 

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   His head was buzzing, and he felt himself getting slowly weaker. He slumped against a wall, not resisting the urge to slide to the ground. He could hear his heart pounding in his ears. Ba-dump. Ba-dump. He felt his body trying to fight back, but he denied its plea. Help me. It begged. Help. “No, k-knock it off.” Wilbur snapped at himself. He continued to pull the razor blades across his wrists, letting out another audible gasp of pain. It hurt… it really did… but it would be worth it. He won’t have to worry about growing up. Die… dead… I’m going to die… He could feel his mind getting hazier, and his eyesight became fuzzy. Dead. You’re dead. Dead. Wilbur suddenly went extremely cold and began to shiver. His blood could no longer keep him warm as it stained his bathroom. His body swayed side to side against the wall, and there was a close to choking feeling in his body. He felt like throwing up, and his head was throbbing. “I’m dead…” He whispered to himself, unable to smile through the pain. “…I’m dead.” And with that, he was out like a light.

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   Tommy walked along the dirt path that led from the forest to his home, kicking rocks. He shoved his hands into his pockets, ready to get home and rest. He knocked on the door and walked in. “Daddddd? Willll!” No response. Tommy knew no one thought him responsible nor mature enough to be home alone, so the quiet confused him. Maybe Techno was visiting from college again. He said that he would today or tomorrow, but it was really soon. …eh . You can always count on Tech’ to be unexpected. “Technooooo? You heeeeere?” No response. Tommy took a peek back outside. He saw Techno’s truck, but not Philza’s car. What’s going on? He thought to himself. He sighed and walked into the kitchen, still looking for people. “Willllll? Where aaaare you? Techhhh? Daddddd?” No. Response. “Hey guys, c’mon I don’t like this… you now I don’t like hide and seek…” The grandfather clock struck 9:30, making Tommy jump. He didn’t like whatever was going on. “Wil?” Tommy went upstairs, and to his absolute horror saw blood covering the bathroom floor and a small portion of the wall in Wilbur’s room. “W-Wil? G-guys?” Tommy wasn’t just “spooked.” He was scared. “What the fuck happened…?” He whispered to himself. He needed to figure out what happened, and fast. He searched the rest of the house for more blood, or any trace of it. He didn’t find anything. He was drowning in a lake of unexplained isolation, and couldn't resurface until he understood it all. Even Tommy wasn’t full of himself enough to try and breath underwater, but he could swim up. He found a bloody razor on the rim of the sink, clots of crimson liquid climbed in minuscule portions on it!s handle. An ominous and uneasy feeling pulsed through Tommy’s body, from his wings to his feet. He tried calling Philza, knowing it was probably the best thing to do. “Hey, it’s Phil,” “Dad- hi, yes what-” “I’m currently unavailable but please leave a message after the beep. It should come any second, mate.” There was a small ring from the speaker. Voicemail. Frustrated, Tommy called again, but got sent to voicemail once more. He dialed Wilbur’s number, listening to the ring anxiously. As he heard his brother’s voicemail, he pocketed his phone, a bead of sweat rolling down his face as he became more and more panicked. He decided he’d seen too many horror movies to be stupid enough to go out searching for them. Tommy made his way to the kitchen, sitting down at the counter, next to the fruit bowl. He’d decked to just wait this out, as the day had left him exhausted. 

   But then- he saw a large sticky-note with rushed writing on it, stuck onto the fridge. “Gone to the hospital. Emergency! Will be back tomorrow, don’t break anything please. -Love Dadza :)” … the hospital? And emergency? Back…tomorrow? Tommy didn’t want to wait to know what happened. “I need to know what is going on…” he muttered to himself. He grabbed his coat from the coat rack, and for the second time today, stepped out into the chilly air. He hit the button on the wall, opening the garage door, imaging through boxes to find his bike. He saw its metal handle, and grabbed it. But when he looked at the bike, he realized that the tire was flat. Shit… He thought. Then, Tommy got an idea. A stupid, definitely bad, awesome idea . Phil’s car wasn’t here… but Techno’s truck was. “Poggers…” he whispered.

   He ran back inside, almost tripping on the doormat (that once read “welcome” but had so much dirt on it that it now read “w lc  me”) and snatched Techno’s keys from their hook. Bad idea. Stupid idea. “Absolutely the best frickin’ idea I have ever had.” Tommy said to himself. He clicked the button on the keys that unlocked the truck, and yanked open the door, sliding into the driver seat. For someone who wasn’t even 13, Tommy was quite tall, and could easily reach the pedal and wheel. He started the car, raking his eyes over every control, trying to figure out which one released the break, or at least put the truck in drive. He assumed that the large stick with the letters next to it was a good option, and so pulled it down until it hit D, which he guessed, meant “drive”. He pushed down hard on the gas pedal, turning the wheel on a sharp right. He made a U-turn that almost made him hit a tree, forcing him to slam the breaks and jump forward. Tommy laughed a bit, although it might’ve just been from him recovering from shock. He buckled the seatbelt in, forgetting to do it the first time. “Okay..ha, maybe we just drive a little slower this time, Tom.” He said. He pressed forward on the gas, trying to go slow but still slightly exceeding the speed limit, and drove down the road. He shoved his phone in the phone slot, unlocking it. “Siri directions to the nearest hospital!” “Setting directions to ‘L’manburg City Hospital’ now.” The automated voice replied. Tommy peered at his phone, nodding as he saw the directions. He slowed down, trying to make his speed equivalent to the speed limit. Show me where the red, almost crashing into the car in front of tom at some point. “JESUS, WATCH WHERE YOU’RE GOIN’ DUMBASS!” he yelled, even though he knew the driver couldn’t hear him. He eventually made it to the hospital parking lot, only running into one trashcan and possibly driving over a squirrel. He hurried,y set the truck to “park” and took out the keys, running through and out of the concrete lot, into the hospital.

   A white haired woman with ram-like horns sat at the reception desk, looking up from what looked like sudoku in her hands as she saw a teenager run in. He seemed panicked and was clearly in a hurry. She cocked her head to the side, slightly worried, acknowledging him. Tommy thought she strongly resembled Tubbo when she cocked her head to the side like that, but he didn’t have time to think about that right now. “Hello. Are you a visitor or do you require medical attention?” She said calmly to him. “Y-yeah um- visitor. For uh- Technoblade, Philza, or William Minecraft?” “Um…” The receptionist put down her sudoku and typed up the last name “Minecraft” in the patient database. She nodded, processing the information and looking back up at him over her computer. “We have a… patient and two current visitors under that name. You are?” “Uh- T-Tommy Minecraft?” Her eyes went back to scanning over the patient database, and the files of the members of the Minecraft family. She paused, “your full name is…Thomas Innit Minecraft, yes?” “Er- yes that’s me.” Tommy said. She nodded once more and grabbed a sticker sheet from behind her, writing “Thomas Minecraft- Visitor’s Pass” on it and sticking it on his shirt. “Room 08, floor 3. I hope he gets well soon.” Although he didn’t know who she meant out of the three possible people she could be talking about, Tommy nodded in thanks and rushed to the elevator. He pressed the circle with the number three, impatient to get to the third floor. He fidgeted with his fingers, leaning against the elevator wall. 

   Tommy ran his fingers through his hair, trying not to panic more. Panicking would only make things worse. He tucked his wings behind his back, as to not bump into anyone else in the elevator. He probably looked like a nervous wreck, he knew that. He wasn’t looking forward to finding out who in his family needed to go to the hospital, or why. “You okay, kid?” A young man asked. He had green hair and a mask, as well as a name badge, but Tommy couldn’t read it from the angle he was looking at him from. He appears to be wearing a police-like uniform with the word “security” on the back, and so Tommy guessed he was a hospital security guard. Do hospitals have security guards? Everywhere has security guards, right? He wondered. He nodded at the guard's question. “Yeah…I-I’m fine. One of my family members is here as a patient but I don’t know who, it’s making me nervous. The guard raised an eyebrow, confused. “You don’t know who you’re visiting here?” Tommy shook his head. “My dad was very unspecific when he mentioned the hospital. All he said was ‘be back tomorrow, don’t break anything, emergence, hospital.’” “Uh-huh.” The guard crossed his arms, laughing slightly. “I see.” “I don’t know what happened, either.” Tommy said to the guard.

   The elevator dinged and the doors opened. “ Floor 3. Emergency Departments. ” “I’m getting off here. The guard nodded. “Hope that person is alright and gets better soon, kid.” “Mm…Thanks for talking to me, I- guess.” The elevator door closed, and Tommy began walking down the hallway. He could feel his heart rate speed up with nervous anticipation. The air conditioned air of the third floor sent shivers down his spine, coating his arms with goosebumps. He looked at the door numbers. 11…12…13…wait that’s the wrong way- He turned around and quickly walked the other direction. 10…09…

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   He knocked on the door, and waited. After a couple of moments, a teenage girl opened the door. She had pale skin, red hair that hung down over her freckled face, and pointed ears that were webbed in some places. Some form of mermaid, Tommy guessed. She looked like an intern to him, probably studying to become a doctor or a nurse. “Hello. Who are you?” “Um- Thomas… Minecraft?” “Oh…another brother, I’m presuming. I’m- sorry, by the way. I’ll let the doctor know that you’re here, too.” She pressed open the door, letting him through. He walked through the door, looking around the room. “Tommy?” He heard his father call his name and he turned to the right. “Dad…what’s going on?” “How are you here? How did you get here?” “Um…long story. I’ll explain later.” He said. Techno was sitting in the corner, arms crossed, staring at the wall. By process of elimination, Wilbur was the one who was seeing the doctor. “What happened?” Tommy asked, almost afraid to know the answer. Techno spoke up, trying his best to have a calm demeanor, but failing. “W-Wilbur he-…-…tsk…I can’t- he’s-…” He began to speak but couldn’t say anything. Tommy saw tears falling from Techno’s face. This was the first time Tommy had ever seen him cry. Philza put a hand on his eldest son’s shoulder and sat next to him, rubbing him comfortingly. “It’s okay Techno…it’s okay.” He said, turning to Tommy. “You’re brother tried to…” He pointed to the chair next to him. “Sit down mate…” Tommy sat down, confused. “So…?” “…your brother tried to- to… kill-” Tommy’s eyes widened. “H-he what ?” Tommy didn’t want to think about what Wilbur had attempted to do. “He t-tried to k-kill…” “ who ?!” Philza’s voice was shaky and cracking. He couldn’t say it. Tommy slowly realized what his older brother had done. “…himself…” Tommy said, finishing his father’s sentence. “……yeah.” Philza’s voice broke, and he couldn’t bear how much it hurt to admit it. Tommy couldn’t believe it. “ Why the hell would he do that? ” Phil shook his head. “I’ve failed as a parent… I would never want any of my sons to- to…” Tommy’s gaze immediately softened, shaking his head in denial to his father’s statement. “Dad, you haven’t failed as a parent-“ “Yes, I have! My 2nd eldest son tried to KILL HIMSELF!” He shouted. Tommy flinched at his father’s outburst. “…” He wrapped an arm around his father, trying to comfort him. Techno was ignoring them both, his maroon eyes shifting from side to side. “Techno f-found him in his room, unconscious…” Tommy’s face fell, it felt like nothing could make this situation worse. Techno nodded in confirmation to Philza’s words, although the nod was shaky and slow. Tommy laughed weakly, “hah…not poggers…” Philza’s eyes narrowed. “Not the time.” He said sternly. Tommy realized how bad his timing was, and how inconsiderate he was actually being.“R-right…” he responded. “S-sorry Dad.” “No, not ‘Sorry Dad’. Do you realize how inappropriate the timing of that joke was?” Philza said harshly. “I- yes Dad… I’m really sorry I shouldn't have said anything-...” His father let out an exasperated sigh, and he pinched the bridge of his nose. Concern, pain, fear, and so much more hidden behind his cloudy emerald eyes. “What am I to do with you…?” He said lowly. Tommy tucked his wings behind his back in shame, having a staring match with the floor.

   The intern came back with her clipboard in her hands, a man following behind that Tommy assumed was the doctor. He and Philza talked for a while. “You could- go see him now.” The intern said to Tommy and Techno, her eyes shifting side to side. She pushed a lock of her red hair behind her pointed ear, a look of sympathy on her pale face. “…” The two brothers looked at each other from their peripheral view, and nodded, looking over at their father. The doctor and Philza came over to them, a tired look on both their faces. “Is Wilbur going to be alright?” Philza’s eyes softened, nodding in a way that was obviously supposed to be comforting, but he seemed unsure. “Is he going to be alright?” Tommy repeated. “Yeah, he’ll be fine, kid.” The doctor said reassuringly. The intern stood next to the doctor, seemingly quite anxious. She awkwardly played with the hem of her skirt, continuously having this look of pity on her face. Tommy knew she felt severely bad for them, Wilbur included, and he was grateful for that. 

   The doctor opened the door, and there were 3 beige curtains separating sections of the room. One section had a small child, asleep with a teddy bear in their hand on a hospital bed. One with a small woman who was reading a book. And closest to the window, moonlight shining down on his scruffy brown hair, was Wilbur. He seemed relatively calm and he was smiling… that’s good. Tommy thought. Tommy noticed 2 long tubes connected to Wilbur’s arm, hooked up to a blood bag. “…” Tommy sees his brother notice him, and gives him a weak smile. Wilbur waves at him, although he flinches and doesn't raise his arm all the way, letting his hand drop to his lap. Wilbur looked down at his knees, avoiding eye contact with his family. The doctor murmured something to the intern, and she wrote it down on her clipboard. All three of them were anxious and hesitant to go speak with Wilbur. Techno went first, sitting down next to his little brother. “Hey…” “…hi.” Wilbur shifted in the chair, twiddling his thumbs, his eyes glazed with tears that are yet to fall.

…

   “Why?” Techno asked, turning to face Wilbur. “H-Huh? Why what?” “Why would you-” Techno sighed with exasperation and frustration, putting a hand on his forehead. “Why would you try to kill yourself? It’s stupid! Why, why, WHY?!” Wilbur felt guilty as he listened to his brother, and he evaded looking him in the eyes. “I-…” The tears were falling now, landing in his lap. “please…I just want a reason…” Wilbur searched his head for a good reason, any good reason…but he couldn’t think straight right now. His hands were shaking. The bandages around his wrists seemed to feel tighter as his stress increased. His arm hurt like hell from the needles. A reason? He thought. He wants…a reason? Do I have a reason to give him? “Wilbur…?” Wilbur looked up at his brother, frantically thinking of a reason for his attempt to provide him with. It’s because I hate myself. “I-It’s because-…” Techno looked over at Philza, then back at Wilbur, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Hey… it's okay, breathe…just- tell me, alright?” Wilbur felt as if his voice was locked in a box and he had thrown away the key by mistake. He struggled to speak. All that came out of him were quiet sobs as he tried to collect himself. “I-I just don’t like myself- at all- I know it’s n-not a good reason, and- I-I’m sorry for that- b-but…” Techno nodded, pulling Wilbur into a gentle hug. “I know how it feels, Wilbur…it’s alright…the reason’s fine…I just don't feel that it's good enough to-...to end it…your l-life…” Wilbur nodded in shame against Techno’s shoulder. “It just gets so bad sometimes… It's like there are voices in my head t-telling me that everyone will be better off without me… my whole life becomes shitty when i-it happens and- and it pushed me too-...” He lets out a shaky breath, hugging Techno tighter.  “...far this time…” Techno finished. Wilbur nodded, breathing heavily through soft sobs.

   Philza and Tommy had held off from talking to them, staying off to the side at the start of the room. Techno looked up at them, nodding at Wilbur and mouthing “c’mon”. Tommy started walking towards them the second he was confirmed that he could. He sat down next to his brothers, unsure of what to say. All he knew was he wanted to say something . Wilbur pulled away from Techno, noticing Tommy. 

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“…hey Toms…” 

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   Tommy’s eyes shifted from side to side. He opened his mouth to speak, but couldn’t. Eventually he spoke, clenching his fists. “W-Why would you try to leave us…?” Wilbur couldn’t answer. Tommy’s words cut through him like a knife, making his head hurt. Frustrated, Tommy crossed his arms, practically begging for an answer from Wilbur with his expression alone. “Why would you try to leave me ?” Wilbur tried to answer, he really did, but he was incapable of doing so. He was shaking slightly, he hadn’t meant to make anyone upset. He hadn’t really thought of the fact that his death would have affected his family so much. “I’m sorry I- I didn’t-… it was just-…” He sighed, trying to word this correctly so as to not make Tommy more upset than he already was. “I was just so unhappy- with myself and- …and everything- I just hated my life…I hate my life…” “But if you told us how you felt we would have listened!” Tommy said, frustration boiling up inside him. “Nobody cares Tommy! Dad doesn't make enough time for any of us, let's face it. I don’t have any friends, with college Techno is barely around and you- you… I- You never talk to me anymore now that you have a friend… and- I just feel left out of everyone else’s life- like a damn npc…" Wilbur said, his voice quiet and…soft… his resentment for himself lacing every word that came out of his mouth.

   When they heard his words, Techno and Tommy both felt guilt course through them. They looked at each other, then back at Wilbur, silently vowing to make sure he never felt this way ever again. “I can talk to Phil, Wilbur…if you ever feel like-... well… like this again… ever… please just tell someone, would you…?” Techno said, visibly worried for his brother, his gaze soft and sunken. Wilbur seemed to be comforted by this, but he still looked unsure. He fidgeted with the cloth on his wrist, nodding slightly. “Y-Yeah. We’ll listen, Wil…” Tommy added. Feeling as if that wasn’t enough, he decided to continue. “And… I- I’m really sorry for not being there for you. If- you ever have a new song you want to play for me or- something you want to do- I’m there… That’s what brothers are for! …O-Okay?” Wilbur nodded, a second wave of tears streaming down his face, his hands on his lap. “O-Okay…I-..mm..” Tommy and Techno, both satisfied by Wilbur’s agreement, hugged him carefully, smiling warmly. Of course, Tommy would want Wilbur out of the medical hospital as soon as possible, but for now…

   …he was just happy that he was still here at all.

Chapter Text

Tommy sat in his bedroom, his head layer against the wall. It had been two weeks, and he still couldn’t stop thinking about his brother. What concerned him was that it was required of Wilbur to go to a mental hospital, and Wilbur was never really the type to do well when staying in a space where he was uncomfortable. Worry crawled along Tommy’s mind, his wing twitching slightly. Wilbur’s going to be alright, he told himself. Just fine. Why wouldn’t he be? There was a knock at the door , but he ignored it. “Toms? You’ve been in there all day…” Toms? The only person who called him that was- “Tommy, why are you hiding in there?” Wilbur’s voice said. “Wil…?” Tommy got up swiftly, opening the door. He saw his brother, standing there, good as new, and his eyes widened. “Weren’t you in…? W-weren’t you-” He grabbed Wilbur’s hand, looking at his wrist. Nothing there. No scars. No cuts. “What’s wrong?” Wilbur asked. “…n-nothing…” Tommy said. It must have been a dream. Of course! Wilbur would never do that! “Dad’s cooking right now…oh yeah! I’m working on a new song. I’m starting to think I should find some friends and start a band. Sounds like a good plan, huh?” Tommy, still quite pleased that everything hadn’t been real, nodded. “If you wouldn’t mind, wanna listen to the song? It’s almost finished.” Wilbur inquired, shoving his hands in his pockets. Tommy thought about it, thinking over the fact he hadn’t listened to one of Wilbur’s songs for a while. “Ok.” Wilbur smiled, nodding.

   How Tommy got into Wilbur’s room, he actually didn’t know. Everything had gotten blurry and dark for a moment. He was sitting across from his brother on his bed, watching him tune his guitar. Once it was tuned, he played a chord or two, recalling the notes. “I’m livin’ the dream… it’s just one of those dreams… where you’re losing… all your teeth.” He laughed under his breath, giving Tommy a small smile, continuing. “And if you think that it gets better… darlin’ take a look at me…” He continued the song, pausing between notes and words from time to time, trying to figure out the next one. Tommy listened to the melody, laughing at some of the lyrics. “It’s good, Will. I really like it! Where are you going to share these songs with the world? I’m sure everyone would love them.” Wilbur laughed softly, shrugging. “I dunno… I will at some point.” 

   Suddenly, the scene seemed to shift again. They were in the kitchen, sitting at the counter. Tommy felt the marble beneath his arm, and he could smell bacon being made. “How- how did we get here?” He asked Wilbur, who had been picking the paint on the counter. “We walked downstairs from my room…? How else would we have gotten here? Teleportation?” He joked in response. “Er- we- right.” How could her forget coming down? Philza placed a plate of bacon down in front of his boys, smiling. “There you go. Tommy, you doin’ alright, mate?” Tommy nodded quickly. “Um, y-yeah. I’m fine, dad…” He racked his brain for memories of coming downstairs. He could think of nothing. Maybe he had zoned out? He looked down at his plate of eggs. Eggs? Hadn’t had been bacon? “Um…” Philza perked up at his son’s voice, like a crow that had heard the word “bread”. “Yes?” “Wasn’t it- a plate of bacon?” Both Philza and Wilbur looked at him as if he were some mystical being or something. Wilbur, eating a bite of his own eggs, shook his head. “We haven’t eaten bacon in a few weeks, Tommy. What are you on about?” He could have sworn that Philza had made bacon. “I- huh?” He tried to clear his thoughts, shaking his head. …have I been eating eggs? I’ve been eating eggs. What was he thinking? “You sure you’re feelin’ okay, mate? You look sort of… pale.” His father asked him. Concern was written all over his face. Once again, Tommy nodded. “Yeah. All good. I think I’m just gonna take a step outside. Get some fresh air, y’know?” Phil took Tommy’s plate. “Of course, mate. Just let me know if you need anything. I’ll put this off to the side and you can just take it out of the fridge when you feel like it. 

   Tommy mumbled an “okay” and got up, stepping out of the kitchen and heading to the front door. He turned it’s not, opening it and going out into the chilly air.

   He closed his eyes, taking a large breath in, and exhaling softly. Once he thought he was ready, he turned back around to re-enter the house, but- it was…gone? Where his house had been was just grass. No panicking ever so slightly, Tommy looked back. Everything was white. It was a blank world. His head was buzzing. His fingers were numb. He could no longer feel grass beneath his feet. He was spinning, nausea creeping up on him. He wanted it to stop. He looked down at his body, which was now distorted. He couldn’t move anything, as much as he wanted to. The forest kept fading in and out around him, glitching farther away or closer every time it came into view. Tommy felt as if he was going to throw up. He held his stomach, his wings fluttering violently, then flattening against his back. Then- everything went dark. Tommy then woke up in his bed.

   Tommy was in a cold sweat. He had throbbing pain in his head. “Ow…” As he looked around his room, he thought about what he had just lived through. It definitely hadn’t been the past. Could it have been just a dream…? But it felt so real- and a dream isn’t like that… Tommy tried to clear his head. He exhaled shakily, moving his legs to the end of the bed. He jumped to his feet, stretching. He wondered if his “dream” was connected to his power to view pinpoints in time. He decided it was more of a superpower than a terrible quirk he had, because a big man like him doesn't complain about cool stuff he can do, he looks on the bright side! And Tommy was most certainly a big man. At the moment, he wasn’t exactly hungry, so he did go downstairs for breakfast. Suddenly, there was a loud, strong knock at the door. “Thesius?” Techno. “Mhm?” There was a pause, a rare event in which Techno hesitated. “Me and Phil are gonna go visit Wilbur. Do you want to…?” “…” Wilbur? Did he want to see Wilbur right now? Yes- and no… Tommy didn’t know if he could emotionally handle visiting his older brother. He shook his head before quickly remembering Techno couldn’t see him through the door. “No thanks.” Techno hummed in understanding and Tommy could picture his expression. Soft, almond-shaped eyes, narrowed. Partnered with their owner’s sympathies. Tommy sat down at his desk chair, anxiety returning, his head in his hands, wings tightened and tense against his back. He ran his fingers through his hair, trying to calm himself down a bit. “ha…my gods I’m so pathetic right now…” He mumbled.

   After a while, Tommy heard the sound of Techno’s truck pulling out of the driveway. He had gotten a long lecture from both his father and eldest brother for driving the truck. Tommy had expected to be grounded, but he supposed Philza was so caught up in- …the situation- that it didn’t come to mind. Tommy allowed himself to get up, and he slowly opened the door to his bedroom. It creaked open, the old wood making a groan of pain from usage. Tommy now had the house to himself for a few hours. Generally, he would have scavenged in Techno’s room for fun or interesting trinkets, or prank some part of the house, but he didn’t feel up to it. He didn’t feel up to anything, actually. He found himself wandering into Wilbur’s room, taking in its unused state. A perfectly made bed with random pieces of clothes thrown onto it as if it were a hamper. Two empty Red Bull cans on the wooden desk. Tommy’s eyes rested on a guitar. An unattended guitar. Wilbur’s favorite guitar. He picked it up. It hurt to look at it, but he didn’t look away. He propped it up in his lap as he sat down on Wilbur’s bed.

   He tried remembering chords Wilbur had taught him over the years, placing his fingers on different frets and strings of the guitar. He slowly played a few sounds, strumming the guitar as if it was the most fragile thing in the whole universe. Tommy’s eyes latched onto a piece of sheet music that had been tossed carelessly to the carpeted floor. It had different chords written in an order on it, as well as countless note’s in Wilbur’s signature chicken scratch handwriting written on it. Tommy attempted to play the notes, his hands shaking. As he played, he realized it was the song from his dream-like experience that the figure presenting as Wilbur had played and sung to him. He hummed the tune, making few mistakes, his breathing heavy. If he tried to speak his voice would crack. He wrapped his wings around himself, giving himself a pathetic, worthless hug. He felt water drip from his chin, and Tommy Innit Minecraft realized he was crying. He let go of the guitar, and it fell perfectly into place in the center of his lap. Tears fell from his now blurry eyes onto the guitar, making a small and delicate echo in the hollow instrument . Making a song of their own. Tommy’s heart swelled with pain, and it hurt to think once more.

…

…

…

   Tommy once read somewhere that friends are great for when you need comfort. So now, he found himself on the edge of Tubbo’s forest. He called out for his friend. “Tubbo? Tubbo! I wanna talk to you!! He was met with no response, and he walked further into the woods. “Tubs? You here? Tubbo…?” “Tommy?” At the sound of another boy’s voice, Tommy whipped his head around. He saw Tubbo walking towards him. “Hey, Tubs. Could you- can you talk for a bit?” Tubbo nodded, a slightly confused expression in his face, “Well, of course, but why? Did something happen? You alright, bossman?” Tommy shook his head, avoiding his friend's gaze for a moment, before returning it. Tubbo’s eyes widened slightly as the avian hybrid confirmed that he wasn’t “alright”. “Hey, you know what, c’mon.” He grabbed Tommy’s hand, squeezing it gently. “You can tell me what happened on the way there.” He said. “On the way where?” Tommy asked. “You’ll see. Now tell me what happened.” 

   Tommy explained everything that had happened, biting back tears once more. Tubbo’s expression had softened, the steady pace in which he walked faltering and coming to a halt. He had understood how upset Tommy was. He had let go of his hand, and pulled him into a hug, burying his head in the crook of his neck, and told him it was going to be okay in the end. Eventually, the duo had stopped at a cottage, one Tommy would have never been able to find if Tubbo hadn’t led him to it. “Where…?” He began to ask where they were before he was interrupted by Tubbo. “My house.” A look of surprise painted itself across Tommy’s face. “What, did you think I just lived out there, in the middle of the woods?” Tommy’s cheeks tinged pink in embarrassment and he nodded sheepishly. “Well uh-…yeah?” Tubbo laughed, grinning, amused by Tommy’s assumption. He shook his head no, letting out another small Laiba. “Well, I don’t, bossman. You can meet my mom, yeah? Stay for brunch too, would ya?” He offered generously. Tommy nodded, his classic and usual smile slowly returning, “That sounds great, actually… Close quotations the two walk inside, the smell of freshly baked bread and cinnamon filling Tommy’s nostrils. They took their shoes off, and Tubbo patted a nearby table as you would pat someone on the back. “Hey Clay…Foolish…” The table had framed photos of Tubbo’s older brothers on it, which made a pang of gratefulness for his brother’s surge through Tommy.

   Tubbo led his friend to the kitchen, where a woman was stirring something in a bowl, batter splattered across her apron. The receptionist from the hospital that had reminded Tommy of Tubbo. Guess it wasn’t a coincidence he looked like her. Tommy thought to himself. “Mum, this is Tommy, my friend.” “Hi.” Tommy said awkwardly. “I invited him to join us for brunch, is that okay?” Ms. Underscore nodded, smiling kindly. “Of course! Why don’t you boys go outside, this’ll be ready in a abit.” “Okay, mum.” Tubbo said, already heading to the back door. “Thanks for lettin’ me stay, Ms. Underscore.” Tommy said. “Oh please, call me Puffy.” She said warmly. “Er- thanks-  Puffy…” Tommy corrected himself, following Tubbo. “No problem, make sure you guys are back inside soon.” 

   Outside, the two of them talked more about how Wilbur had-…yeah. Neither Tubbo nor Tommy could understand how someone could actually be pushed that far. “I’m really, really sorry, Tommy…” Tubbo said, once again pulling his emotional friend into a hug, rubbing his back, careful not to hit his wings. His friend had comforted him when he was upset, and it was only right he did the same. “Really sorry…” Tommy sighed, his chin quivering as he attempted not to cry. He gripped the back of Tubbo’s shirt; his legs felt weak. “It’s gonna be okay, bossman…” Was that really true? How could anything ever be okay? “I promise.” Tubbo said. Tommy’s eyes met Tubbo’s and he felt vulnerable. Defenseless against the pain of his own life. Tommy’s brows furrowed, his eyes narrowing, as if to test Tubbo’s promise. “You…p-promise…” Tubbo nodded, trying to give Tommy a comforting smile. “Y-Yeah. I know how much it hurts when people break their promises.” “…you’re my best friend, y’know. I- thank you… so much… for being there for me.” The brunette boy’s lip twitched into a sympathetic smile, and a feeling of warm pride filled his chest. “Of course. I’ll always be here by your side to help you out. Always.”

   All of the sudden, Puffy’s voice called from the house. “Almost done, kiddos!” Both boys responded with “alright!”, walking towards the house. Tubbo had just placed his hand on the doorknob when there was a dreadful bang. “Oh no..” They muttered. 

   Falling. They were falling. Sinking. But it was a different experience than before. It was as if they were sinking in tar, not falling through darkness. A dark sky materialized above them, endless stars beaming down like the sky’s freckles. They suddenly rose up, the ground hardening below them like concrete. “What the…?” There was a glowing green light, and both boys suddenly had green thread wrapped around them, restraining them against a wall they hadn’t seen before. “Ah-” Tommy let out a quiet gasp as the wind was knocked out of him and his wings hit the wall. “You okay?” Tubbo asked, looking at Tommy through his peripheral vision. “Um- yeah- fine. I’m fine. What the fuck is happening?” Tubbo shrugged lazily as he kicked his leg, trying to rip the green strings. “ ‘Dunno. This hasn’t happened to you either, then?” The strings only tightened as they struggled, persevering. “No. Definitely not.” Tubbo’s confusion turned to frustration as he continued to kick at the thread, but it just wrapped itself tighter around his leg and boot. “These aren't normal strings, that’s for sure. It would have ripped by now.” “Suppose it’s magic or somethin’? Judging by our situation, I wouldn’t put it past the universe to throw something weird like that at us.” Tommy muttered. Just then, a humanoid figure appeared. Tommy’s expression hardened. “Oh! You! Are you the one doing this shit?!” Tubbo glanced at Tommy, silently wishing that he’d shut up. “Tommy, given our situation, let’s not talk like that to a random being, yeah?” Tommy scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Yes, but what if we’re in this ‘given situation’ because of this guy?!” He gestured wildly with his hands to the dark figure, frustration threaded through his voice. Tubbo sighed. “Tommy, I understand your opinion- on the situation… but let’s try to be friendly alright?” He turned to the figure, sighing. “I’m sorry about him he-” Tubbo stopped as the figure held up a hand to silence him, turning their smiling mask to them. 

   The mask was a white one made of porcelain, with a broad smile on it. The strings tightened as they held their hands up. “You guys… are so… very… lucky.” They said, their voice deep, yet playful. “Lucky, lucky, lucky.” Tommy and Tubbo looked at each other, slight panic setting in. “…what makes us so lucky?” Tubbo asked carefully. “Why, you’ve been presented with a grand opera unity. Tell me, how many hardships can you think of that you’ve suffered? How many times has this world… wronged you?” The figure said, fixing their mask, walking up to the wall that both boys were restrained against. “I bet you can think of quite a few, hmm?” The figure trapped Tommy’s chin, tilting his head upwards with slender fingers so that blue eyes pierced their own through the mask. “Tommy, was it? Tell me, you’re brother, he tried to go, didn’t he? Hah, he had the right idea. The world is cruel. I’m sure it was hard for you. Really, I am sorry.” Tommy shook his head so that the person would let go, giving them a sharp glare. “Thanks, I guess. And don’t touch me, creep. How'd you know about that, anyway?” The person chuckled darkly under their breath as their hand fell to their side. “A god knows a lot, kid.” Both boys’ eyes widened, as they took in this new information. A god? “You’re a god, then? What of?” Tommy demanded. “You’ve got balls talking to me in such a demanding tone. But, if you insist, I am the god of many things. Mainly… control, and sacrifice. I’m sure both of you know much about sacrifice, don’t you?” They turned to Tubbo, their head cocking to the side. “You lost a brother to the Great War a few years ago.” “Broth-ers.” Tubbo corrected quickly. “Oh no, I meant what I said. Brother. Singular. Say, did you ever find poor Clay’s body?” 

   Both Tubbo and Tommy freeze. In fact, the world seemed to stop. “Look how shocked you are, it’s almost funny. Did you really not go looking for him? Proof of his untimely demise? No. No, you didn’t. Huh. That’s old.” Even though they wore a mask, it was evident a smirk was on their face. “Well, I can assure you, he’s quite well. Dead? No… but no longer on Earth. He left a longggg time ago.” Tubbo’s eyebrows narrowed and he squinted his eyes, as if making a very difficult decision on what to say, aggravation blooming inside of him like a weed, beginning to boil inside of him. “How do you know anything about him? How do you know this? How. Are. You. Sure.” He said, gritting his teeth, his jaw clenching tightly. “…well. Would you like to see him?” Tubbo’s eyes widened once more, his expression softening. “I-” He looked over at Tommy, who was giving him one of his signature “hey - don’t - you - look - at - me” faces. He turned his attention back to the masked figure, new intentions to answer them rising up in his throat.the words trapped themselves where they were, and the only thing that came out of Tubbo’s mouth was a shaky exhale. He nodded, and the second he did, the green strings around him and Tommy loosened. The masked person nodded as well, laughing slightly. 

   They reached up, undoing the leather strap of the smiley, porcelain mask. It fell to the ground, and Tubbo had a gasp escape his lips. Young, jade eyes looked into dark, insane, lime ones that were poisoned with fatigue, bloodshot. 

“Long time no see, little brother.”

Chapter Text

   They were in a state of utter shock. Tommy refused to look up at the now unmasked face, fearing he'd see the young face of the boy in the picture on that table. Tubbo, however, faced the other, staring wide-eyed. The strings bounding them unwound, and the boys fell to the ground. There was so many questions to ask. Then, the world came crashing down. Everything disappeared. Everything stopped. It was dark. So dark. 

   It was just Tommy and Tubbo. Tommy got up on his knee, looking at his friend. “Was that-” “Shut up, Tommy.” Tubbo said sharply, kneeling on the floor, staring at it. “I think we’re dead.” He said quietly. “I- There is no way- that he-... t-that he…” He muttered, his hands in his lap. He put his head in his hands, a sharp pain in his mind. A terrible headache.

   Tommy understood how Tubbo must be feeling. “I understa-” “Just SHUT UP!” Tubbo shouted, his hands pulling on his hair, practically taking it out of his head. “You DO NOT understand! You have both of your brothers! How would you feel if Wilbur or Techno died, and suddenly came back, showing up after years?! How would you feel? No , Tommy. You don’t understand.” Tommy scoffed, his eyes narrowing. “Oh please I don’t understand?! Tubbo, Wilbur almost killed himself!” Tubbo clenched his fists, getting up to face Tommy. “But he didn’t die, Tommy! Mine did! I had to go through that loss. TWICE.” He shoves Tommy, making the avian fall backwards. Tommy landed on his back. “You fucking bitch, don’t shove me! I- I’ll just shove you harder!” He gets up, shoving Tubbo. “You’re so annoying! No wonder your dad never makes time for you.” Tubbo said angrily. “You're just a clingy, insecure twat. So stop trying to say you understand my problems!” “At least I have a dad!”

…

…

…

   Tommy’s eyes widened. It just slipped out. He hadn’t meant to say it. Tubbo trusted him never to mention that. “Hey… I didn’t-” “Shut your mouth. Don’t talk to me.” “Tubbo I-” Tubbo shot him a glare. “I said, don’t talk to me.” Tubbo’s voice cracked as tears started to stream down his face. “Fine.” Tommy crossed his arms, turning away from Tubbo, and huffing shakily. He walked away. He didn’t know where he was going. He just… walked.

   Tommy soon came to a cliff, the end of the world. The ground in front of him crumbled slightly, and so he didn’t dare take another step. He could go no further. Suddenly, he felt a hand on his shoulder, and he froze, startled. He whipped his head around to see some guy, probably a little older than Quackity, with fluffy brown hair and multicolored freckles. Pink, green, yellow, and purple.  Was that normal? I mean, of course, non-human features were common in this day and age, so it probably was normal. The boy looked down at him with purple eyes. He had colorful, comfy clothes on, as well as a leather satchel, and matching steampunk goggles. Tommy noticed that instead of normal pupils, the boy’s eyes seemed to be ticking. Wait- ticking? How- huh? The boy’s eyes were like clocks, a little arm whizzing by every minute. “W-whoa… your um- eyes they…” Tommy sort of just stared at the boy’s eyes, transfixed. “They’re interesting, right?” The boy said calmly and smoothly. “Oh um- yeah.” “I like your wings.” Tommy paused before nodding, puffing up his wings in what he hoped was a nonchalant - looking way. “Er- thanks.” He tucked his wings behind his back, speaking awkwardly. “Uh, who are you, and what do you want?” He said. “I’m trying to warn you, Tommy Minecraft.” Slightly alarmed, Tommy stopped his thinking for a moment, taking a step backwards, “How do you- that’s Tommy Innit Minecraft to you. Anyway, warn me? Warn me about what?” “Right… Tommy- innit…” The boy said slowly, before answering. “Don’t ask. We’ve met before, it- it just hasn’t happened yet. I’ve come to warn you about He Who Controls. He’s trying to turn you into one of us. He wants to keep you both, and ‘fix’ you.” The boy stepped back, his body beginning to fizzle out into the air. Tommy’s blue eyes narrowed, his eyebrows furrowing. “See you soon, Tommy Innit.” “What do you mean ‘fix’ us? Hey wait-” But the boy had already left into a poof of vividly colored smoke. Tommy coughed as the smoke swiftly filled his nose and lungs. He walked forward, his eyes shut tight, but stopped in his tracks. Tubbo didn’t want to see him right now, and he knew that. But something was desperately pleading with him to tell his friend about this… warning?

Tommy exhaled, his lip quivering as his breath shook, the night air a bit too cold. “You know you’re like a brother to me. I always kind of regarded you as like- my sidekick or something. N-no offense, or anything.” Tubbo laughed, setting down the flowers he had picked. “None taken! I’m sure everyone in town would like to be your side-kick if they got to know you.” “No but really I’m like your sidekick, y’know?” “Mine?” Tommy nodded, bringing his knees up to his chest. “Yeah… think about it. I’m always hanging around you, and I help you out. I’m basically your sidekick, and I’m proud to be that.” Tubbo nodded. “You know, I’m so glad I met you. My life would probably be super boring without you. Just imagine what it’ll be like when we grow up!” “Yeah...”

   He continued his stride, walking back towards where on the void-like  plateau he had left his friend. “Tubbo…?  Hey man, I’m sorry…!” Tommy called as he looked around for the satyr boy. “I need to tell you something…” Tommy then ran into something hard. “Ow- fuck!” He exclaimed. He rubbed his nose, trying to soothe the pain now growing in his face. Tommy looked at what he had run into, glancing up and down at it. A stone statue with accents of gold paint, faded and peeling. How had he not seen it before? The statue was of a very young man with bandanas around his neck and forehead. He had about shoulder length hair and baggy yet easy to work in combat clothes that looked like they belonged in the military, as well as a demonic tail and horns. The statue was flashing a crazy smile on his face. A smoke that Tommy hadn’t even comprehended was there cleared, revealing that he was in the middle of a triangle, with one statue at each point. One, of the boy who had warned him about “He Who Controls”, or whatever. The colorful one. And another stone statue was a petite man with huge glasses and a hat made of a rather comically large mushroom. He had a long, moss-like cape on his back that trailed down to the floor, and a sleep mask hanging from his neck. Tommy stared at the statues, and noticed a green string wrapped around each of their necks, and wrists. “What the…?” “Do you like my statues, Tommy?” A gleeful, eerie voice asked him. Tommy turned around swiftly on his feet, his body doing a 180 to meet the voice. There was Tubbo’s long lost brother, staring back at him. “…Clay, was it?” Tommy said carefully. The man scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Yes, that was my name, but I don’t prefer it. ‘Dream’, if you will.” “Pfft.” Tommy snorted. “Childhood nickname, huh? Tubs told me. Just so you know, using a nickname from when you were younger isn’t cool nor poggers.” “What is pog-” Dream began, before he was shushed. “Don’t interrupt me.” Tommy said, huffing. “I’ll do what I want, piss baby. This is my turf.” The man said, un-crossing his arms, an ominous glint of… excitement in his eyes? He took a dangerous step towards Tommy. “Oi! Back the hell up, bitch.” Tommy said, putting his hands up in front of Dream. “Tommy, just- please just shut up. ” Dream said, snapping his fingers. At the snap, a green string binded Tommy’s arms to his torso, as well as his wings. “I have an… offer.” He was then forced against a wall that had once again seemed to come into being from nowhere. Tommy looked back up at him, a glare on his face. “What kind of offer?” He spoke through gritted teeth. Dream smiled. “I once suffered like you. I had the same thing happen to me. But something had gone wrong. Changed. I don’t know what exactly, but instead of letting me see the past when I wanted, it kept me stuck in time. One event. On rewind. For forever. I was stuck . Lost, on that battlefield. I watched my little brother cry over the dead body of my other brother, who had stupidly joined me in the lines of soldiers, from far away. I saw a never ending loop of bloodshed, and pain . Sucks, right?” “…” Tommy paused, scratching the back of his neck, then nodding. “I- yes…?” Dream rolled his eyes, continuing. “I found myself in the middle of a wrecked land, for what felt like eternity. But then…” Dream laughed, looking out to the distance, but not at anything specific. “I found a book. Underneath the wreck, I found a book. And that book had a note in it, which fell out. And do you know what that note promised me, Tommy?” Dream walked closer to Tommy, smiling weakly, cupping his cheek with his hand, mock-pouting. “It promised me immortality, and an escape. So… how would you like to be immortal?” Tommy stopped his thoughts for a moment, confused on what they meant. “Pardon?” “Immortal.” Dream repeated. “I-I- don’t understand.” Dream sighed, tilting Tommy’s chin up with a hand. “How would you like it if you could live forever?” 

   Just then, spheres of light poured out of Tommy’s chest, leaving him feeling tired and exhausted. The lights floated into the statues, and the statues transformed into 3 young men, each a replica of a statue.  “Us 4 can live forever. How would you like to join us?” Still in a sort of dumb-struck daze, Tommy gazed at the three men the best he could. He felt Dream’s fingers leave his chin as the man walked over to the dark-haired man with the mushroom hat. Dream smirked, resting his chin on the man’s shoulder. “This is George. Say ‘hi’, Gogy.” George grumbled a “hello” in a thick British accent similar to Tommy’s, but still quite unique. He lifted his shoulder, nudging Dream off. Dream rolled his eyes. “Meanie.” He walked over to the boy who had “warned” Tommy, grabbing him from the shoulders and smiling. “Meet Karl Jacobs, Tommy.” The colorful boy- Karl- gave Tommy a weak smile, waving slightly. Tommy nodded at him. “And finally…” Dream let go of Karl, gesturing to the last man. “Sapnap. He’s a fiery one, aren’t you, Sap?” The man called Sapnap just flicked his tail back and forth, seemingly agitated and ready to fight anyone who pissed him off. It burned Tommy’s eyes to even look at him. “They’re all gods, Tommy. Every single one is immortal. Just think about how many times you’ve felt hopeless? You wouldn’t feel that with us . You could even choose what to be god of.” Dream said, his tone suspiciously gentle, yet cunning, and persuasive. Tommy’s mind wandered. He wondered where Tubbo was. He wondered how his family was doing. He wondered whether the ice cream shop was open today. He then wondered what he would want to be the god of. Maybe power? But they probably wouldn’t allow him to be god of that, he would be overpowered. He should ask. It would pog if they said yes. “What about chaos?” George suggested flatly. The guy looked bored out of his mind. Dream looked at Tommy, smirking. “I think that would be perfect. What do you think, Tommy?” Tommy hesitated. “God of chaos” did sound pretty pog, too. But… immortality? “Hang on, I couldn’t die if I agreed?” Dream smirked. “Nope.” “…” Eternity, even with other people, seemed… lonely. Just then, Tommy caught a glimpse of Karl trying to get his attention. Once Karl realized Tommy was looking at him, he violently began shaking his head.Dream noticed, his smirk faltering for a moment, before returning, almost too cheerful. “Got something to say… Jacobs?” He said, raising a hand, green string that connected to the stone statue of Karl wrapped around his fingers. He was about to tug on the strings before Karl froze, shaking his head once more. “N-no.” Dream smiled, the strings disappearing and his hand dropping to his side. “Wonderful.” He said happily. “So, what do you say, Tommy?” Tommy had made up his mind. He tried to raise his hands, but they were still tied painfully tight to his waist. “Look, the offer is generous, big man, but um… no thanks.” Dream’s smile fell. “Oh? And…” His eye twitched slightly. “Why is that?” “Look, I don’t want to live forever. I’ll never feel fulfilled, and wouldn’t like that. So- I’m good.”

   Dream sighed. “Oh Tommy… I’m so sorry to hear that. It’s unfortunate, really. Out of all the things…” He said, faking an expression full of pity. “I can’t make you forget this specific event without losing all your memories. And of course, I can have you leaving now that we’ve had this encounter. So… I can’t return you home.” He said, an almost sadistic glee making it evident he didn’t really care. Tommy’s eyes widened. “…what…?” “Mm… and we can’t exactly have mortals asking around here so… sorry it had to be like this.” Dream said, nodding to Sapnap and then to Tommy. “Kill him…” He muttered.  Tommy!s eyes widened. “Hey um- that’s um- ha- that’s not very poggers haha- mmm- funny jokes you can um- let me go home now! Hey um-” Tommy noticed Sapnap’s hesitation. Dream smirked, standing behind Sapnap and carefully wrapping a green string around Sapnap’s wrist. “Get rid of him, Sap…” sapnap’s orange eyes turned a lime green color, a sick, reluctant look on his face. “Mmm…” He mumbled, a dagger seeming the generate in his hand as he took a step closer to the restrained Tommy. “Look kid, it’s nothing personal.” He said. “Forgive me.” Sapnap shut his eyes, the arm with the string wrapped around it cutting through the air with the dagger. Tommy shut his eyes. Huh… he was gonna die. He always thought it would be cooler when he died. He felt tears well up in his eyes, and he inhaled sharply, knowing he was about to take his last breaths. He thought about everything he’d done, and everything he hadn’t, making lists in his head. The second list was longer, and he didn’t have to wonder why. He was going to die without even making it to his teens. And to think, he was practically days away. Tears fell almost in slow motion down his face. Everything was slow. 

“…” 

    But the pain he expected to feel never came. 

“…?”

   Tommy opened his eyes, and his world broke. His light went out. He lost all hope as his eyes fell onto the figure in front of him. There was a ringing in his ears. His heart burned. He felt numb. 

“…”

   Tubbo stood in front of him, his arms up, a dagger through his chest. Everything was quiet. Dream was emotionless when Tommy saw him, and Tommy wondered how. After a few precious seconds, Tubbo collapsed against Tommy, his eyes half lidded, his body still.

“You know, I can’t wait to live my life with you, dude. There’s so much I’m ready to do!” Tubbo said, picking up a dandelion and twirling it in his hand. Tommy sat in the flower field alongside his best friend as they watched the sun go down. “It’s beautiful…”

   Tommy fell to his knees, the strings binding him unwinding. (A beat.) “Fuck- This can’t be happening… hey- I- Tubbo can you hear me? You can hear me right? There’s no way you can’t- I- hey!” Tubbo tried to focus his eyes on Tommy, nodding slightly, panic on his face. “Tommy I don’t- I don’t want to die-” Tommy pulled Tubbo up against the wall he had been forced against just minutes ago, pushing his wing into the wound to try to stop it from bleeding too much. He ignored as the gods watched, Tubbo being his only focus. He ripped a piece of his shirt, replacing his wing with it and holding Tubbo’s hand against it. “J-just hold on, okay? Keep it there…” “Tommy, it hurts…” “I- yeah I know I’m sorry I’m- I’m so sorry- fuck- just hang on for a sec…” Tommy made sure Tubbo’s make-shift gauze would stay in place, using one of his own feathers to pin it to Tubbo’s shirt. “T-Tommy it hurts so bad… I- I don’t want to die…” “You won’t.” Tommy stated. He seemed to be trying to convince himself as well. He stood up and turned around only to see no one there. He screamed into the darkness, pleading for a god that could heal. That could help. He called for help… but nobody came. Tubbo’s eyesight became hazy, and stress seeped in. Tommy kneeled down next to Tubbo, examining his cut, breaking down. “T-Tommy… I can’t see you… help…” He clinged to his friend, as if trying to act as a lifeline for Tubbo, cradling him against his chest. “I’m right here… T-Tubbo I’m right here… ” He felt the hug loosen, Tubbo’s arms slipping, both of their breaths shaky, sharp, and weak.

“We should travel the world!” Tommy said happily, smiling wildly as he laced back on the flowers. “Yeah! Plus watch the sunset in every spot.” Tubbo added, laughing as he looked up at the sun dipping below the crisp horizon line, vivid. Shining brightly, stars speckled the sky. “Gods, I can’t wait to grow up.” He said softly. Tommy smiled, ruffling Tubbo’s hair. “We’ll do it together.”

    Tommy clung onto the other boy. “C’mon Tubbo…c-c’mon… I can’t grow up without you …”

“Promise?” Tubbo looked at Tommy as the blonde stuck out his pinkie finger and smiled, taking it with his own. “Promise. Brothers?” (Another beat.)

“You promised…” He said weakly, his hands falling to his sides as he let Tubbo lean against him, burying his head into his hair. 

“Brothers. Forever.”

“Tubbo… please.” “Tom-” Tommy, frustrated, shook his head, knowing it was better if the boy didn’t talk. “S-save it for when we leave here… for the field… for when we- for when we… you aren’t going to die.” His voice was quiet, barely above a whisper, his head spinning. “Just keep your eyes open… please… I don’t have any other friends, I don’t work without you… I- I don’t even know what I am without you…” He said, his voice cracking. “Don’t fucking die, damnit!” Tubbo nodded, trying to keep his green eyes in an open state. But he couldn’t. His eyes fluttered shut, tight. He hugged Tommy, his body shaking. “You got so much of your life to live… so get better! Goddamnit Tubbo please! No one will hurt you anymore if you just fucking SURVIVE. ” More tears fell from Tommy’s eyes, and a new anger formed. Not just at Sapnap, or even at Dream, but at Tubbo. “Don’t leave me alone…! Don’t fucking LEAVE ME.” Tommy pleaded. “What-… w-what even AM I without you?” He asked, overwhelmed and mad at the world. The brunette’s eyes became dusty, seeing nothing. Tubbo smiled, knowing Tommy will never leave him alone. Knowing that with Tommy, he was safe. Knowing he’ll be alright. And everything’s… okay. “you’re…” Tubbo leaned his forehead against Tommy, his smile weak. “…just yourself.” He said. Tommy inhaled sharply, denying Tubbo’s words. “N-no…nonono… without you I’m nothing…please… don’t leave me… ” Tommy begged. Tears fell faster. One heart rate beated faster while the other continued to lose the race. “… please… ” Tubbo smiled for the last time as Tommy hugged him tighter, his head resting against his best friend’s shoulder… his only friend’s shoulder. “It's okay… angel’s grow wings… and it looks like a great night… to fly.”

With that, the boy went limp in Tommy’s arms…

…and Tommy cried…

…for a long time.

Chapter Text

Tommy didn’t know what to do with himself. Truly, he was on his own now. He clutched the dull, lifeless, dead body of his only friend. It was like a shell. Dead. That felt wrong. He wasn’t dead. Tubbo was just… asleep. Yeah. People don’t die at 13. It just doesn't happen. It shouldn’t happen. Tommy wanted to go home. He wanted to run to his dad and hug him. He wanted to visit Wilbur. He wanted to hear one of Techno’s long lectures about some foreign book he was reading. Now that Tommy thought about it, he can’t go home, can he? He’ll never see his family again, will he? Instead he’ll hold Tubbo in his arms, feeling weak and fragile. Trapped in this death-box of a world. Not exactly what Tubbo would have wanted, his eyes were burning as tears continued dripping, pouring off of his flushed face. His breaths came out in sharp gasps, and his head ached even more than it had before. Not what Tubbo would have wanted at all. Not what he would have wanted… at all. 

Tommy exhaled slowly, slightly lifting Tubbo’s body up as he got off his knees, resting the boy on the floor and- in a gentle manner- running his fingers down his face to close his eyelids. “He’s just sleeping.” He mumbled to himself. “Stay right here, Tubbo… I n-need to finish something.” His voice wavered, his breath still remaining unsteady. Grief was quickly replaced by anger. He sat up, wiping the tears off of his face, turning around. He was gonna hunt them down, and kill them. He looked around the space, the pity void still surrounding him. “Come on out, cowards.” Why was he challenging the gods? Well, was Tommy stupid? A bit. But even more than he was stupid he was loyal. He wasn’t going to let Tubbo be hurt without someone paying the consequences.

Tommy made his way forward, cutting through the fog. “Oi, green bastard! C’mon and show yourself!” He yelled out, wanting to get back at these “gods”. Suddenly, a fresh bang went off, and a ringing was left in his ears. He grasped his head and let out a yelp of pain as he suddenly felt a training, sharp spike hit his brain, almost like a brain freeze. When the dining cleared, so did the cloudy smoke around him. What he saw shocked him.

He was in the center of an arena. A huge colloquium. “What the hell…?” The air had dropped what felt like 20 degrees, and Tommy was starting to shiver. He could see his breath, and goosebumps trailed along his skin, which had gotten pale. Then he heard maniacal laughter from above him. There was a glowing green sword; the blade hovering a foot above Tommy, seemingly made out of emerald, glinting even though there was no sun. More laughter emitted from the sword, erupting from it. Tommy reached up, his now freezing and shaking fingertips wrapping around the hilt. Green strings suddenly lashed out of the handle, like whips, around Tommy’s hand and up his arm, merging the sword to him snuggly. He inhaled sharply, instantly trying to pull it off, but unsuccessful. The string acted like a second arm, like are our almost. 

“I’m really sorry about your friend, Tommy…” said a voice from behind him. Tommy turned slowly, dropping the sword and letting it hang loosely from his wrist. Opposing him, a few feet away, stood Karl Jacobs. Tommy exhaled with relic when he wasn’t met with the fiery eyes of Sapnao or the bloodshot, green eyes of Dream. “… hey, Karl.” “…hi, Tommy.” They sorta just stared at each other, Karl smiling weakly while Tommy just looked into his ticking eyes, emotionless and yet so full of emotion. “…” 

Tommy snapped his gaze away from Karl’s, his eyes locking onto the weird. He looked at it for a firm amount of time, trying to understand it. “You know what that is?” Karl commented, addressing the sword, Tommy’s expression of confusion, and his cocked eyebrow. Tommy shook his head, twisting his arm around and watching the sword move like an arm detention. “No, what is it, bitch?” AHe demanded in a usually Tommy fashion. He was going to use the term “bitch boy” but he and Tubbo had once looked up the definition for that and Tommy decided against it. Karl rolled his eyes at Tommy’s language, scratching the back of his neck. “It’s a challenge. He’s challenging you. That’s what you want right? A fight? To fight him? To fight us?” The blonde paused, looking up from the sword. “A challenge, huh?” Tommy grinned. “Well, if it’s a fight that green bastard wants, then that’s what he’ll get. It’s on. But- you seem okay. I… don't really want to fight you, Karl.” Karl’s eyes glinted with something Tommy couldn’t quite pinpoint. “I don’t really want to fight you either.” He mumbled.

“Do you accept the challenge? Along with the sword you have I’ll have another advantage.” Tommy thought of Tubbo. If he didn’t fight. He might just lose all respect for himself. An advantage, huh? “And what’s that?” “You can’t fly yet, correct?” Tommy winced. Phil hadn’t made time to teach him yet, and now he never will. Tommy’s wings were barely big enough anyway. “…no. What does that have to do with anything?” Karl giggled slightly, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Well, no offense, but up against gods, you’re dogwater. So, your second advantage is that you will be able to fly.” The boy grinned, looking at his wings excitedly. “Really?” Karl nodded. “Pog.” Just as Karl nodded, he stopped, seeing something behind Tommy, his breath hitching slightly. 

Tommy felt a hand around his collar, and he was pulled backwards. He spun around to see just the person he did not want to see. Dream. “..” “Hey there, Tommy.” he said, eerily cheerful. “What’s got you so pleased?” Tommy snapped. “Your brother just died, and you’ve got a smile plastered on your face…? What the fuck is wrong with you?!” Dream sighed, rolling his eyes. “Shut up, child. You were the one who was supposed to die. Anyway, I heard you wanted a fight?” Tommy felt disrespected for both himself and Tubbo as Dream just… scoffed and changed the subject. “Yeah, that is what I wanted. I hear your ‘challenging’ me? I’m the one challenging you, bitch boy.” Dream crossed his arms, looking at Karl, and then to his right. Suddenly, Sapnap and George were at his side, materialized from the fog. “…” Niether of them said anything after spawning, they just stood there. “Oh great, am I fighting all four of you at once? Dosen’t seem very fair.” “Not all at once, you would perish instantly. But, of of course, you could always put up a white flag and become one of us.” Tommy, disgusted, replied quickly, his eyebrows narrowing. “I don’t want to be lumped together with you lot. Die.” Dream frowned. “So be it. If you win, you may return home, with a price.  Lose, and you, well, you’ll be dead.” Strings materialized onto his hands, then latched onto the toreo’s of each god, tying themselves into knots around them. “Round one. Karl, you’re up.”

A loud gong sounded, and the strings around Karl glowed a vibrant, sickening green. Karl shut his eyes tight, but they fluttered open again, his pupils dilating and turning that same lime green. Tommy felt a whoosh through the hollow bones scattered around his body, and he knew he was capable of flight.

The other gods had evaporated from the colloquium into the audience seats. Sapnap watched, fighting with his hands, while Dream had a sick grin on his face, eating out of George’s seemingly self-refilling popcorn bowl, not looking away. Karl and Tommy turned to face each other, and they bowed. Karl’s eyes were still green, pained with an unreadable expression as he raised his hands to fight. Tommy, alarmed by how quickly their match had started, raised his arm, the sword following. “Sorry about this.” The distorted sound in Karl’s voice makes Tommy flinch. 

The loud gong sounded again, and the fight was on. Tridents, or spears, shaped like the arms of a grandfather clock, shot from Karl’s hands, catching Tommy on the shirt, sending him flying into the air, his back nearing hitting the stone of the arena. He spun backwards from the impact, trying to flap his wings. “C’mon.. C’MON!” He begged to himself. His wings soon burst to life, fluttering and catching the falling avian. He whooped in excitement, almost forgetting that he was mid- battle. His wings flared and he was suddenly advancing towards Karl, slashing his hand out, slicing and ripping the air. Karl put his hands up, ducking and whooshing out of the second in time, returning in another back in front of Tommy, aiming a punch at the boy.

Tommy narrowly dodged, not expecting that. “Ack-!” He put his wings up in self defense, Karl’s punch forcing his blow to the pristine white feathers. Tommy exclaimed in pain, moving his wings out of the way, stabbing into Karl’s lower arm as the boy fell onward. Karl let out a high-pitched yelp, tears pricking k those ticking eyes of his. Tommy dragged the sword down Karl’s arm, nearly severing Karl’s wrist and hand from his body. Karl groaned in pain as stumbled, gasping and clutching his arm. “H-Holy fuck…” Tommy felt a guilty feeling surge through him for doing it, but he had to go home. He muttered an apology, putting the sword to Karl’s neck, locking away and- “STOP! Please…!” Tommy whipped his head around towards the stands to see Sapnap standing up, anxious, his hands steaming with fire. Sapnap turned to Dream, his hands on the arm rests of the seats, melting them. “Please make a different way he can win, Dream.” He begged. Dream paused, gazing and biting his lip. “There already is.” He said, smirking and putting his mask back on. “The child must figure it out.” Tommy hesitated, listening carefully, then looking around frantically. Another way…?

Then, his eyes landed on the statues, and what Karl had called Dream. Green strings still coiled around the necks of the stone. “He… who controls.” Controls. Controlling. This was just a game, and those strings around the statues were the controllers. And then, in the blink of an eye, it hit him. He had to free these gods.

He bolted for the statues, nearly tripping. “Stop him.” Dream said, snapping his fingers. George rushed after him while Sapnap checked on Karl, hugging him and running his fingers through his hair after realizing he hadn’t suffered any fatal injuries. Karl exhaled at the common touch, relaxing and shutting his eyes. He silently prayed Tommy would make it home, despite the boy just slicing into his skin moments before. Meanwhile, George had reached Tommy, gripping onto the scruff of his neck. He met his fingers on his other hand with Tommy’s temples, and suddenly the avian was falling. The sensation was so uncomfortable and all too familiar. “George, I’m just trying to free you and go home!” He let his wings spread out and flew up, looking around in the darkness. “Dream is my best friend, I don’t need to be freed from him. An idiot? Well, yes. But my best friend.” The god’s voice echoed in Tommy’s ears and they rang with a buzzing. His heart pounded in his head like a drum in a marching band. “Yes, but he's holding you against your will!” Tommy shouted to the abyss, the hand with the sword weighing him down. “The others, maybe, but me? No. I have control over myself. All I do here is have god powers and-… be immortal or whatever. All Dream wants is more friends.” “Sounds fucked up. Making his friends and a new one try to kill each other is the exact opposite of a friendship declaration to me, dickhead!” Tommy screamed out. There was no response from George for a while, before he sighed. “I suppose… I could talk to him. Stay.” 

Tommy’s body suddenly came to a halt, and he was back on the ground, cold and shivering. Sapnap was still caring for Karl, keeping him close. Tommy shuddered at the freezing temps he was now experiencing, looking around and walking towards the statues, trying to think. Maybe cutting the strings? He slid the sword under the string on Karl’s statue, ready to cut, when suddenly he was tackled. By Dream himself. “Hey there, Tommy.” He said, raising an axe and landing it right beside Tommy’s ear, grinning. A patched Karl and Sapnap draw their attention to the two, everyone’s breathing uneasily. George seemed unfazed and cold as ever, unaffected by Dream’s attempt at absolute control. Their expressions were blank. “I guess you’ll have to die a little more painfully.” Dream muttered. But just as he swung the axe, Tommy put out his hand, the blade slicing into his palm and lodging itself there. Probably to his bones, based on the feelings. Tommy sucked in air through his teeth, flinching with tears beginning to pool in his eyes and he screamed out in pain. He raised his arm attached to the emerald sword, cutting the axe out of dream’s hand and leaping up, shaking the axe from his hand and watching as plasma and blood gushed from his palm, trickling down his wrist and arm and dripping from his elbow and clotting to make a puddle on the void-like floor. 

He scrambled to Sapnap’s statue, wasting no more time as Dream lunged after him. He ducked behind the stone… and cut the string. Sapnap froze, and his body began to glow.

His figure shrank to a more humane height, his clothes becoming just as casual as Tommy’s. “Holy fuck… HOLY FUCK.” He gasped, exasperated. His tail disappeared and the points on his ears smoothed. Dream let out a groan of annoyance and disappointment, making his way towards Tommy. Sapnap tugged Dream backward. “Get away from Tommy, Dream.” Even though Sapnao was now, Tommy was guessing, human, he seemed to be a strong guy. “Stand down.” Tommy gazed at Sapnap with awe and admiration for a moment, before grabbing the sting around Karl’s stature, and cut it. Karl shrank to a form of humanity too, healing completely as well by the looks off it. He immediately ran to Sapnap and through his arms around the man, smiling. “H-holy shit! Dude, we’re free…!” Sapnap returned the hug, a shard of a glare still directed at Dream in his expression. “…yeah.” Tommy smiled at their exchange, moving to George’s statue, but he was stopped. Wait.” George mumbled. “…leave me out of it.” Tommy raised an eyebrow at him. “…huh?” “Just leave me here. Don't cut it.” “But you’ll be stuck with him.” Tommy said, nodding at Dream. “And I can live with that.” He replied, urging Sapnap to back off and throwing a hand down to Dream. Dream hesitated, taking George’s hand and helping himself up. “C’mon idiot, let them go home already.” George muttered, patting Dream’s shoulder. 

“…there’s a cost, and you know that.” Dream mumbled, and George nodded. “I know that.” Tommy rolled his eyes and scoffed. Of course there is. “What is it?” Tommy grumbled, dragging his non- bleeding hand across his face as the sword vanished. Dream crossed his arms, nearly guilty. Almost. “Well, because they used to be fellow gods, their minds are easy for me to manipulate.” He said, addressing Sapnap and Karl. “I can just let them forget about this, and go back to their human lives. But Tommy, I can’t do that for you.” His voice having his own weird version of sympathy added to it, he removed his mask, and his expression was confusing and dull. “I can’t tell you the cost, unfortunately, but you can go home. You… will remember this.” He suddenly had an awkward face, pausing. “Do you…” Dream suddenly revealed a coffin, a single flower attached to it. “…want to take him with you?”

…

…

…

Tommy nodded, and suddenly he was falling once more.