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“For the last time, leave me alone George.” Dream snaps, only to be stunned silent at the amused noticeably not George face that greets him when he turns.
Tommy waves, music disk in hand. The teenage still looks slightly worse for wear, despite the days of healing since the war that have passed. Dream idly wonders if Wilbur was made aware of this visit in the first place...
“Mind if I come in?”
Dream forces a confident smirk, “What, you’re here to hand that one over to me too?”
Tommy shrugs and invites himself in anyways. “Nope. Just here to listen.” He says casually, and Dream watches with wide bewildered eyes as the boy does just that, walking over to his music box and placing the disk in with a satisfying click.
A slow waltz fills the room.
“Wh-Mellohi? Really?”
“I think I’ve finally figured you out, Dream.” Tommy just says, needless tacking on his name at the end. Normally, it’d be a humorous habit of Tommy’s.
This time it felt like a perfectly practiced hit.
“Oh yeah?” Dream finds himself asking, eyes darting around a little behind the mask. He couldn’t see any signs of a trap...
“See. I fight for a lot of things. To be annoying, mostly, but I usually have a goal . Revenge, getting back my disks, freedom,” Tommy taps his fingers on the box, a completely content look on his face like he wasn’t in a room with someone who could easily kill him.
Like he wasn’t in the room with someone who almost had.
“Where are you going with this?” Dream says slowly, curiosity winning out of his caution as he sits down as well. His hand never leaves the hilt of his sword however, but Tommy doesn’t seem to care. Should a fight break out, Dream would win easily, and that thought makes his grip loosen a tad.
“You don’t really fight for anything do you, Dream?” Tommy asks, leaning back a little. The action was a mistake. Both of them wince as Tommy’s face contorts in minor pain, one hand going to his still healing side, but Dream’s sympathy is hidden by his mask.
“Wh-what the hell are you talking about?” Dream moves on, and Tommy seems briefly grateful he doesn’t comment.
“You fight to win . You fight just for the sake of fighting, to be a bitch basically, but mostly because that’s all your goal ever is, right? To be the best, to win .” Tommy opens his eyes, and stops tapping.
Dream is silent. Eyes narrowed at the boy in front of him. Reanalysing.
Tommy isn’t done. “That’s why you do this whenever you loose, go all sulky or baby rage,” Dream bristles at that, but Tommy cuts him off with a grin. “Cause see, I don’t know if you know this about me, but I lose a lot.”
“I do know that about you, yes.” Dream bites, but Tommy doesn’t even flinch.
“Yeah and, I’m not gonna lie, it can be quite frustrating! But, it’s pretty good too.”
This kid was cracked...
“You’re losing .” Dream repeats, like Tommy doesn’t understand the words he’s saying. “What could possibly be good about losing?”
“Getting back up.” Tommy says simply, and Dream’s expression furrows. “Trying again, taking another shot at reaching your goal. The reason you can’t do it, is because your goal is to win all the time, so you never let yourself loose.” Tommy’s grin briefly goes cheeky. “ If you stand for nothing Dream, what will you fall for?”
Dream just huffs. “Tommy, is there actually a point you’re trying to make here-”
“The point I’m trying to make is that you keep fighting for the wrong reasons. You get swept up in winning ,” Tommy pitches his voice up mockingly, “winning, winning, explosions explosions kill, oh I’m Dream look at me-,” Dream’s hand clenches tighter on his weapon and Tommy hastily continues, “that in the end, you’re always gonna loose. Because every time you do win, it’s never enough, and every time you lose, you don’t ever allow yourself to. That’s how we won the war.”
“You didn’t,” Dream argues, uselessly, feeling a little out of it now, “ I did.”
“Did you though?” Tommy asks, and his voice isn’t taunting for once as he does. It’s knowing. It’s pitying . “We got everything we fought for. Freedom, a home, friends.”
“You lost your disks.” Dream points out, “and we destroyed all your land.”
“Exactly. Our land. That we fought for, together, and got. What did you get again Dream? Oh, yeah, right.”
Tommy stands up, takes the music disk, and starts walking out. For once, Dream doesn’t try to stop him.
Wilbur’s right hand man shoots him one last grin, and does jazz hands as he leaves.
“You won~.”