Chapter Text
After being revived, Tommy found that when he slept he didn’t dream. The nightmares that he had been plagued with for as far back as he can remember suddenly stopped. He didn’t even realize it at first, his sleep was restless and he woke up multiple times during the night. But after a while, he noticed the lack of anxiety fluttering in his chest whenever he woke up or the lingering effects of nightmares.
It was a welcome reprieve even if whenever Tommy was in a dark room for too long the walls seemed to close in on him. Or when he woke up in the morning and he felt just as tired as when he went to bed. Anything was better than the nightmares.
Then, Wilbur was revived as well. Which threw a whole wrench in whatever happened when Tommy was unconscious.
When he was asleep he started dreaming of nothing. Like when he woke up late at night but everything was off. There was nothing around him but darkness.
Tommy looked around, panic creeping up his throat at the limbo he had been trapped in for months before. His skin was cold and he could hear his heartbeat loudly in his chest, the air going in and out of his lungs. Every sound of himself was amplified when there was nothing else to hear.
And then, a faint, “oh, hello again.”
In that same sickly sweet voice that made Tommy’s skin crawl. Tommy spun around, Wilbur was standing there, his head tilted to the side, an eyebrow raised. Tommy stepped back, reaching out behind him to try and feel anything that he could hide behind.
“I’m… No… I… I shouldn’t be back here…” Tommy’s voice cracked and his stomach dropped.
“Well, then what are you doing here?” Wilbur asked, sitting down on the ground, crossing his legs in front of himself. He stared at Tommy, the white streak in his hair seeming to glow in the endless darkness.
“I don’t know…” Tommy felt tears form in the corners of his eyes but he blinked them back stubbornly, he couldn’t cry in front of Wilbur. Wilbur would just use that to his own advantage. Wilbur didn’t move any closer every time that Tommy took a step back, his knees trembling.
How had he gotten back here? How did he die? He couldn’t remember.
“I guess it’s just going to be us here again, stuck together,” Wilbur looked around, his lips quirking up into a small smile, “just like old times? Us alone against the world.”
Tommy covered his mouth with one hand, tripping over his own feet. He was here again. He was dead.
Wilbur sat in front of him, shuffling a deck of cards that he never used to play. He just shuffled them back and forth. He spoke with a silver tongue, his expression carefully guarded. Tommy didn’t respond, the overwhelming silence made it hard for him to speak, his body ached and yet he felt nothing at the same time.
Every time Tommy woke up from whatever those were, he laid in bed for a long time. Staring at the ceiling, the small light on his nightstand casting a faint blue glow over the whole room. His chest heaved and unshed tears prickled in the corners of his eyes.
The first time it had happened Tommy had rushed to the bathroom, vomiting whatever was in his stomach. Ranboo who was awake at the time had heard him and knocked on the door with a concerned tone. He sat next to Tommy, rubbing his back and smoothing his hair down as he heaved, tears dripping down his face.
Tommy blamed it on something he had eaten earlier that day and Ranboo left it at that.
Now when it happened, Tommy just stared up at the ceiling, not even trying to go back to sleep. He waited until the sun was long up before he finally pried him out of bed, his sheets and pajamas soaked with sweat. He ignored the concerned stairs that Tubbo shot him when he left the cabin without stopping for breakfast.
He walked down the prime path, glaring at the prison with a hardened expression. He flinched when he heard Wilbur’s voice from behind him and for a moment he was brought back to the darkness even though the sunlight was blinding against his eyes.
One night was different, however. He went to bed early, his hands and shoulders aching, marks dug into his palms from the handle of his damaged pickaxe. His back hurt and exhaustion was heavy on him like a wet blanket. He had been mining stone all day and had no hope that he would get much rest tonight.
Tubbo and Ranboo were still in the kitchen, talking and laughing at some conversation. The guest bedroom that Tommy had taken over for the time being happened to be right by the living room, and by connection, the kitchen. It didn’t stop Tommy from falling asleep, but it did make everything hurt worse.
He heard Ranboo’s breathy laugh, the small hisses he made when he was happy and Tubbo said something else. Tommy rolled onto his side, burying his face in his pillow, the sheets pulled all the way up to his chin, piled on top of him. He found that he got colder easily now which didn’t really help since he was staying in the tundra.
Tommy fell asleep after a few minutes of tossing and turning, praying that he would get at least a couple hours of sleep before he was thrown into the fake limbo that lived in his head.
The panic had been replaced by a lonely feeling of dread after so long of opening his eyes to see the darkness. He was sure that if he had actually died he would just be desensitized to it by now, the countless visits and the sleepless nights it has caused.
“I would’ve thought you’d gotten tired of this by now,” Wilbur spoke from behind him. Tommy didn’t need to turn to hear the sly smile he wore. And Tommy didn’t turn, he just sat down on the ground and sighed, his eyelids drooping. He didn’t want to be here.
“Come on you couldn’t have gotten bored of this already,” Wilbur said.
Tommy squeezed his eyes shut even though that made no difference compared to the rest of his surroundings. He liked to pretend that even if he was here he could still be asleep. Nothing in this limbo made sense, he couldn’t have been dead, Wilbur was still here. But at the same time, it was exactly like what he had experienced for those several months.
“Tommy…” Wilbur was closer now, his hands ghosting across his skin. Tommy pressed his hands to his ears, ducking his head. Wilbur let go of him and clicked his tongue.
“Tommy!” A louder voice rang in the abyss and Tommy nearly jumped out of his skin, his heart rate spiking. Tommy scrambled to his feet, and spun around, Wilbur was nowhere to be seen.
“Tubbo?” Tommy shouted, his vocal cords aching at the sudden scream. He saw a figure in the distance, shrouded in darkness. Tears welled in his eyes and he felt a tightness in his breath.
“Tommy?” Tubbo shouted again, sounding a bit closer now but he still looked so far away.
He couldn’t be here, he shouldn’t be here. Tubbo was still alive, he couldn’t…
Tommy ran towards him, his feet thumping against whatever floor existed in his own limbo. Probably not any floor but somehow he was kept from floating away. The figure of Tubbo still remained as far away as it was before, and Tommy shouted again.
Tubbo couldn’t be here. Because if Tubbo was here.
That meant Tubbo had died. This wasn’t supposed to happen, this couldn’t be happening. Tommy ran forward, his heart thumping loudly in his chest.
Then, Tubbo was standing in front of him. His left horn was broken and chipped, the scars that adorned his face seeming flesh, all his previous wounds opened. Tommy stared at him with wide eyes, tears streaming down his face. Tubbo looked down at his hands and looked back up at Tommy.
He opened his mouth, uttering a small, “Tommy?”
Tommy reached out, gripping his shoulders tightly.
“Tubbo!”
Tommy jolted awake, his eyes wide and his chest heaving. He couldn’t move, his limbs stuck in the same position that he had fallen asleep in. Tears ran down Tommy’s face as his breathing quickened. He couldn’t move, he had to find Tubbo. He couldn’t be dead.
Finally managing to pry himself off of his sheets, his arms and legs tingling painfully. Tommy felt his stomach swirl with nausea but he pushed it aside, stumbling out of his room. His door slammed against the wall and it barely registered in his mind.
Tommy stumbled to the kitchen where he had last heard where Tubbo and Ranboo were, his mind racing with terrible thoughts while his chest heaved.
“What the—” Tubbo exclaimed, looking up from the counter, “Tommy?” his expression contorted into that of concern and he quickly stood up from where he was sitting. Tommy gripped onto his shoulders tightly, his eyes wide. He ducked his head pressing his forehead against his chest.
“What’s going on? Tommy?” Tubbo asked, nearly falling over when Tommy grabbed onto him.
“What?” Ranboo stood up, Tommy hadn’t even realized that he was still in the room.
“You’re okay, you’re okay, you’re okay,” Tommy whispered, mostly to himself, more tears streaming down his face. Tubbo put his hands on Tommy’s arms, his hands were shaking.
“Toms you’re scaring me, what’s going on? What’s wrong?” Tubbo pulled Tommy’s face up to meet his eyes. Tommy scanned Tubbo’s face, his eyes tracing the explosion scars on the side of his face.
Tommy let out a small sob, cupping Tubbo’s face in his hands. Tubbo cupped Tommy’s face as well, his eyebrows furrowed with confusion.
“What is happening?” Ranboo asked quietly, shifting off to the side.
Tommy’s breathing was starting to even out, his stupid brain finally being reassured after however long. His heartbeat was starting to settle down and the raw panic after he had woken up was starting to be replaced by the embarrassment of what was going on. His cheeks flushed even darker than they already were and he had
He pulled his hands away from Tubbo, taking a few steps back, still out of breath.
“Aha… wow…” Tommy coughed awkwardly, shuffling back towards the door, “how fun was this… I think I’m gonna go back to bed now! Fun talking to you.”
“Tommy hold on,” Tubbo reached out and caught Tommy’s arm. Tommy flinched, “what in the hell was all that?”
“What do you mean?” Tommy rubbed his arm, toeing at the ground.
“You just… Tommy you were just freaking out and… what was all of that?” Tubbo was looking at him with a concerned expression, “you’ve gotten me all shaken up. What’s going on? Are you okay?”
Tommy stared at the ground, “y’know it’s getting really late I should really head back to bed.”
“Did you have a nightmare?” Ranboo asked quietly. Tommy didn’t respond besides a light shrug. Tubbo’s hands were still on his arms, he squeezed gently.
Tommy muttered a quick explanation under his breath, hunching his shoulders.
“What was that?” Tubbo asked, tilting his head. His ears flicked.
“You were in limbo…” Tommy muttered, a little louder this time.
“What?”
“I…” Tommy swallowed thickly, “you… my limbo… I… when I died… you… you were there…” tears welled up in Tommy’s eyes again and his breath got caught in his throat.
“I don’t understand Toms…”
“You died and… I think… you were in limbo with me… it…” Tommy pressed his face against Tubbo’s shoulder, wrapping his arms around Tubbo, “I couldn’t… I didn’t know if it was real…”
“Oh Tommy,” Tubbo muttered, burying his hand in Tommy’s hair, “I’m okay, I’m alive. You’re alive too.”
“I’ve been dreaming about limbo,” Tommy said slowly, “almost every night I'm back there… like when I died...”
“And I was there…?” Tubbo asked.
Tommy nodded into his shoulder. He shivered, his hands shaking.
“Well, I’m here now. And I assure you that I’m still alive.”
“Thanks.”
“It’s gonna take more than your weird unconsciousness to take me out.”
Tommy chuckled tiredly, still clinging onto Tubbo.