Chapter Text
Three weeks later
The portal glows with a strange red color, pulsing with magic and heat. Tommy eyes it warily, despite the fact that his family and friends aren’t supposed to arrive for—he checks the intricate mechanical watch gifted to him by Doc—another half hour. The portal is built into the side of a hill, coincidentally the same hill Tommy first spawned on. He refrained from mentioning this when it was built, though that might have just been because he had been preparing for the supposedly impossible feat he had been tasked to do.
( “You want me to… enchant a portal… to the Dream SMP ,” Tommy repeated, rubbing his forehead.
Mumbo clapped his hands. “Tommy, it would be perfect, since technically now that Dream’s gone, there would be no reason not to!”
Tommy sighed good-naturedly, shifting on the floor of Mumbo’s vault. “One, Dream could come back—he managed to tunnel into Hermitcraft like a fuckin’ mole, I doubt being trapped in a hardcore world is gonna stop him. Two, you’re assuming I even have the ability to make such an enchantment—”
“Tommy,” Mumbo deadpanned. “You came back to life with wings transformed by Death herself, I don’t doubt that you have powers beyond even the most skilled of mages. Uhhh… you just have to believe,” he finished dramatically.
Tommy gave him a blank stare. “This isn’t a motivational poster, Mumbo, take the talk somewhere else,” he joked, and Mumbo laughed.
“Just give it a try,” the suited man requested, even going as far as to clasp his hands together and widen his eyes innocently.
Tommy sighed exaggeratedly, making a show of giving into the older’s pleads. “Don’t say I never do anything for you.” )
The enchantment ended up being quite simple, at least to him—but when Xisuma scanned the code his eyes had grown to the size of dinner plates and Tommy had teased him for the rest of the day about the pure shock written across the Admin’s face. No, the enchantment was simple , it was the strangeness that stuck with him, like a tiny weight in his gut, a string wrapped around his heart. He drew power from parts of his mind he hadn’t known existed, channeled magic that felt like liquid sound in his hands. The knowledge of his powers since then has seeped into him like a plant absorbing nutrients—one day he’ll wake up and know exactly the specific enchantment that will summon some rare beast. It scares him, sure, but Tommy’s always been reckless and a few dangerous possibilities aren’t going to stop him from exercising his abilities whenever he can.
Present-Tommy inhales slowly, breathing in the sweet scent of flowers and grass. He keeps glancing at his watch until two figures emerge from the forest around him—one with a bow slinged over her shoulder and a leather bag clutched tightly in her hands, and another squinting his eyes in the sun as his wings flap slowly in the calm breeze.
“Tommy, chill, they’re not coming for a little while,” Gem chides, plopping down to sit next to Tommy as she pulls another pouch out of her bag, rummaging in it until she hands him a slightly squashed cookie.
“And even then, they’re not gonna come charging through the portal like rabid beasts,” Grian adds, sitting on Tommy’s other side. Their wings brush and the feather colors contrast sharply in the crisp mid-afternoon sunlight. “At least I hope.”
Tommy chuckles. “I dunno, my family can be pretty feral sometimes.”
“Good to know,” Gem jokes.
“Anything else we should be aware of?” Grian questions, ever the overthinker.
“Well, Phil’s the lover of Death, Technoblade is a piglin with a thirst for blood, and Ghostbur’s a ghost who acts like a three year old but with bonus blue finger paint.”
“I-”
“And my best friends both love nukes.”
“ What ?”
Tommy snorts, but his chuckle is cut off by a bubbling noise that slowly grows louder and louder. The three look at the portal before exchanging apprehensive looks—this means only one thing.
The sound reaches a deafening level before five figures materialize in the shimmering red, stumbling forward into the clearing. However, once they notice Tommy, they exclaim and run forward, surrounding him and yelling gleefully in his ears. Tommy laughs, squirming underneath the arms, solid and translucent.
Tubbo is the first to let go and actually speak. “Tommy, if I wasn’t so happy to see you I’d punch you,” he says excitedly.
Tommy wheezes. “Nice to see you, too, Tubbo.”
“Uh, is anyone gonna mention the wings?” Ranboo half-jokes with Micheal sleeping calmly in their arms, eying the younger’s impressive limbs. Phil jolts from where he’s slung an arm around Techno, gazing at Tommy’s wings like he’s truly noticing them for the first time. He clearly knows what they mean, and he widens his eyes questioningly at his son.
“Yeah,” Tommy answers the unspoken question, grinning slightly at the awestruck look on his father’s face. Then he notices the lonely shadow in his eyes and extends an arm to hug the avian. “She says hello,” he whispers into the crook of Phil’s neck, hugging his father tighter when the latter trembles.
“Hate to interrupt—”
“ Grian! ”
“What?”
“You—they were having a moment!”
“No they weren’t—”
Phil releases Tommy, turning to the Hermits, who immediately stop arguing. It’s rather amusing, Tommy thinks, how quickly the two can both start and stop an argument in record time. They look apprehensively at Tommy’s father, before he smiles and says, “Hello, I’m Phil.”
Gem relaxes, returning Phil’s handshake, and Grian opens his balled fists, smiling hesitantly at Phil and clearly trying not to look at his wings. Tommy giggles.
“You know it’s okay to ask questions,” Tommy says gently while also trying to hold back snickers. Grian blushes.
“Well, I…” he says, wringing his hands, “I didn’t talk to you because you’re younger… and I’m almost positive your father got his wings in very different ways than I did—”
“That’s true,” Technoblade pipes up, and Tommy snorts at the jolts his monotonous voice elicits from the Hermits, “but, uh, no offense, but you seem kind of stressed? About this? So fire away. Yeah.”
Tommy holds back a snicker at the uncertainty lacing his brother’s tone. Grian rolls his eyes but then immediately starts pummeling Phil with questions. The two move to the side, chatting animatedly.
“Hello Gem!” Ghostbur says cheerfully, holding Friend tightly in his arms. Gem’s eyes widen at the sight of the ghost, who just beams.
“Uh, hello Ghostbur, hello…” she trails off, and Ghostbur proudly tells her the name of his sheep, “Friend?”
“Don’t ask,” Tubbo whispers conspiratorially, before he spots her antlers and squeaks. “Wait, you’re a hybrid too?!”
Gem laughs at the boy’s enthusiasm, and shrugs. “I’m an elf, but a species with deer characteristics. I’ve never met another,” she admits.
“Well I think your antlers are cool,” Tubbo says matter-of-factly. “I just have horns,” he adds, absentmindedly trailing a finger along his ram horns.
“They’re very cool as well—”
“Uh, hate to interrupt the bonding,” Tommy interrupts awkwardly, “but we’re supposed to be meeting the other Hermits soon?”
“There are more ?” Ranboo asks in shock, the purple particles floating around them drifting towards the edge of the clearing, as if eager to meet new people. If that’s the case, Ranboo’s magic is a lot more enthusiastic and people-loving than they are.
“Yep, about two dozen more,” Tommy informs him, snickering at the awestruck look on his best friends’ faces.
“And you’re sure they’re all safe?” Techno asks harshly, swinging his pickaxe threateningly. Tommy sees the way Grian anxiously looks over and Gem eyes the tool apprehensively, so he hurriedly pushes the pickaxe towards Techno’s chest.
“Yes,” he emphasizes, and Techno relaxes, but only a bit. Tommy calls Grian and Phil over, addressing the whole group. “Let’s go.”
~-~-~-~-~-~
The trek back to the castle is long, with plenty of time for Tommy to finally talk to his father.
“Do…,” Phil starts, and Tommy waits patiently. “Do you still have Chat?”
Tommy’s face falls. That seems to be a good enough answer for Phil, whose face drops.
“I’m sorry,” he murmurs.
Tommy doesn’t answer. He’s… he's surprised—or not?—that he isn’t sorry. Not really. He’s different. He doesn’t… he isn’t the same. His mind isn’t the same. His heart isn’t the same. It makes sense that his voices aren’t the same either.
“It’s beautiful here,” Phil remarks quietly, wonder sparkling in his blue eyes as he gazes out to the hills illuminated by midafternoon sun.
Tommy drags his feet on the path, dust clouding around his feet. “Yeah,” he agrees.
Phil sighs, a small, sad smile on his face. “There’s nothing like this back home.”
Home.
What is home?
Tommy… doesn’t know.
Home could be the barren, familiar plains of the Dream SMP—but he’s not sure he’ll ever feel safe there.
Home could be the awe-inspiring skyline of Hermitcraft—but he’s not sure he’ll ever fit in there either.
Maybe, Tommy thinks, home isn’t a place. Maybe it’s good food, good friends. Maybe it’s the feeling that comes with being at peace.
Maybe home isn’t a place, Tommy thinks. Maybe home is where your heart takes you.
Tommy’s never listened to his heart before.
He isn’t sure what to listen for.
But maybe that’s okay.
Maybe he already knows where his heart is going to take him.
Maybe—probably—his father knows too.
“You aren’t coming back, are you,” Phil murmurs. There.
Tommy doesn’t answer for a few moments. “No,” he finally admits, determinedly not looking at his father. He doesn’t want to see anger, disappointment–but instead when he glances over he sees a bittersweet yet proud expression on his face.
“I think I already knew that,” Phil exhales. Then his gaze turns to Tommy’s wings, not as large as his but nonetheless impressive. “You’ve always… you were never really happy back home.”
“That’s not true,” Tommy contradicts softly, and Phil looks back at him, surprised. “I was happy,” he continues, “but not…”
“Free,” Phil finishes, and Tommy nods. “I get that,” he sighs.
Then Tommy remembers something Death had told him. “You can’t die, can you?”
Phil doesn’t answer, but the pain painted on his face is as good as an answer. Tommy feels a stab of pity–he can’t imagine being trapped in his own life, unable to be free from pain and destruction.
“I’ll visit,” Tommy promises. “I have the portal now.”
Phil smiles, but it’s a small one. “It won’t be the same without you. It’s already been so different.”
“Well…” Tommy trails off, his eye catching on Gem and Ghostbur, arguing playfully at the head of the group. “I’m different now too.”
“That’s okay,” Phil says. Then his eyes shift to the beautiful sunset once again. “I think this change is what we all need.”
~-~-~-~-~-~
The atmosphere in Gem’s grand dining room is warm and happy. Tommy can see Phil and Mumbo talking enthusiastically, likely discussing various technological projects. He can see Tubbo bouncing Micheal in his lap while the toddler shows off his Bee to Pearl, the butterfly hybrid cooing at Micheal’s proud description of his beloved toy. He can see Ranboo teasing Technoblade for the way that the piglin tries to hide how much he loves Gem’s signature baked potato pie, and as he watches Ranboo gestures to the concerning amount of bowls stacked up next to them, barely holding in their laughter. He can see Ghostbur floating around the table with Friend in his arms, occasionally stopping to steal a bit of food from someone’s plate and sneaking it to the little blue sheep, who baas happily at every piece of bread and broccoli he gets.
And maybe life isn’t perfect—Schlatt’s later reported as missing, with a reward of 1000 Minecoins written on a wanted poster that Tommy finds Tubbo shredding up one night; Gem’s powers continue to grow, and so do Tommy’s; there are still so many things he doesn’t understand, but he realizes that he doesn’t care, at least not now—how can he be worried, when he can see all the people he loves in front of him, happy and at peace, if only for a moment? And further than that, he can see his future, warm and happy as the dining room in the castle of a woman he’s grown to call his sister, surrounded by blood family and found family, in a land he appeared in on accident, in a world he finally knows he can live in without fear. He sees through the colored glass windows the sun finally dip beneath the horizon and finds himself excited for the next day and what adventures and joys every day after will bring.
Tommy once was alone and unloved in the face of evil. He was once compared to death, to pain, to suffering. He once only knew fear and hatred.
But now he knows life .
He lives it.
He is it.
And Death watches proudly from above as her little golden light realizes just how big he can be.