Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

PART 1 (4401)

“With every battle, we lose a little more. Remember everything that we’d die for. You are everything that I’d die for.”

From the moment L’Manburg had cornered the Dream SMP everything began to blur in Tommy’s mind.

There was a lot of yelling from Wilbur as he baited their arrows as Tommy guided Tubbo, Eret and an invisible Fundy towards the tower that the Dream Team had perched themselves on.

Tommy could hardly remember the words spoken as they placed TNT below the enemy but it must have been some kind of order because Fundy gave a quiet “yes, sir” before the sound of his invisible footsteps crept away.

The plan was falling into place perfectly and everything seemed to go black as Wilbur gave the order and Tubbo and Eret lit the explosives.

Tommy watched with a ringing in his ears as Dream, George and Sapnap scrambled away from the fire and wreckage only for George to be hit directly in the shoulder with an arrow by what could have only been Fundy.

The man fell to the floor, unnoticed by his friends and Tommy failed to recall what even happened after that.

The next thing he remembers is sitting in silence with Wilbur in the caravan, Tubbo and Eret guarding the walls and Fundy keeping watch on George who they had captured.

Wilbur seemed pleased but that didn’t stop Tommy from sitting in utter silence next to him, eyes trained on the table top, Wilbur was his leader, not his friend. There was no time nor place for chatter when they had gained such a valuable asset for the war.

Wilbur’s fingertips began to dance atop the wood of the table and Tommy glanced upwards feebly to judge the situation. There was a large grin painted on his leader’s face and when he noticed that Tommy had looked away from the table he let out a laugh.

“We did it, Tommy,” Wilbur’s voice was firm yet proud. “We have George, one of Dream’s closest friends, in our possession.”

Tommy nodded along with Wilbur’s words.

“We’ll start extracting information from him tomorrow, tonight you can give his shoulder some kind of treatment, nothing special though.” Wilbur began giving his orders.

Tommy understood his task. ‘Nothing special’. The words ‘just enough to keep him alive’ remained unspoken but they were so horribly loud in Tommy’s head. He knew why that was the case, George was European, he was very clearly going against what should be his brothers but he sided with the enemy.

As a resident of L’Manburg, Tommy understandably should hate him but he couldn’t help but feel bad for how the man was being treated as a prisoner.

But then again, all is fair in war.

The days started to blend together again after Tommy’s brief encounter with George. The man was weak but still undeniably bitter and not a word was shared as Tommy haphazardly cleaned and bandaged his injured shoulder. He avoided the older man’s gaze that he could clearly feel on him as he worked and as he did it dawned on him that tending to this injury would be useless.

Wilbur had said so himself; extraction would start the next day. Extraction of information on Dream no doubt and it wouldn’t take an idiot to see how that would end up for George.

It became a daily occurrence for Tommy to stand silently in the corner with Eret who stood with a stoic expression as Fundy and Wilbur interrogated George. Tubbo wouldn’t come so he took to gathering resources during this time.

Tommy couldn’t recall anything that L’Manburg learned during this time, only able to picture the blood and the screaming and the yelling. And there was a lot of it.

When the days came to their ends, Tubbo and Fundy would patrol the borders while Wilbur took note of any information they forcibly retrieved from George and formulated more battle strategies with Eret who had been farming for weapons over the last few days.

Tommy was landed with the job of tending to George’s wounds after each day. It wasn’t something he particularly looked forward to but it did give him some relief to see the man, allebit not in perfect health, but still alive. He only wanted freedom, he didn’t want to have to kill to get it even if Wilbur was willing to go to such lengths.

George never once spoke. Whether it was because he wouldn’t speak to someone from L’Manburg or if he simply couldn’t, Tommy didn’t know.

The young boy was no stranger to what George went through each day. He stood, silent, in the corner for every moment of it. He had seen the water boarding, the knives, the broken fingers. He had heard George cry out in agony and whimper when Wilbur spat on him. He heard the laughter as Fundy slapped him when he was too quiet.

Tommy could remember this particular day quite clearly. The set up was exactly the same, the same cold damp room, the bloodied chair sat ominously in the corner ready for the next morning, the thin rag splayed on the floor as a sorry excuse of a bed.

That had was one of the few days Tommy was permitted to give George food and water. The older man’s eyes had lit up when he saw it but the enthusiasm died down almost instantly and Tommy felt his heart cry out in sympathy as he placed the items at the door and entered the room with the first aid box.

He quickly made his way to George, whose hands were tied behind his back and inspected him for the worst of his injuries. Not that it was necessary, Tommy knew what the most severe was by a long shot.

A long jagged cut from his brow right to his cheek.

It was several inches deep and there was no chance that it wouldn’t leave behind a very ugly and a very permanent scar. There was dried blood caking most of the left side of his face where the cut was and the skin was puffy and red most likely meaning it was infected already from the dirt and grime of the cell.

Tommy winced as he began to unpack his supplies. He knew what was in the box wouldn’t do much for George’s face but that was the idea; though that didn’t mean the boy didn’t still feel immense guilt.

He quickly got to work, wiping his face with a wet cloth to remove the blood before cleaning the cut itself with a cotton pad soaked in rubbing alcohol. He could clearly see and hear every wince and hiss George let out as the liquid came in contact with the open wound and Tommy could see the fear flash behind his irises as he pulled out a needle and thread from the box and began cleaning it.

“I’ll do it as quick as I can so it doesn’t hurt too much.” Tommy muttered. They were the first words he had uttered in George’s presence.

George looked up at him in clear surprise before furrowing his brow slightly. “Why?” His voice was hoarse, either from screaming or misuse and his tone was blatantly confused.

Tommy gnawed on his lip before replying. This sudden conversation had him feeling very on edge. “Because you have information that we need. We want our freedom and we’ll do what we have to to get it.” He sounded like he was reading rehearsed lines from a script.

There was no doubt that he wanted independence from the SMP but he was only ever going to be prepared for so much. War was difficult to accept, torture was a whole other story.

“No,” George shifted slightly on the mat. “Why are you helping me?”

Tommy wet his lips as he pushed the thread through the loop of the needle. “I’m just following orders.” That wasn’t a lie. Wilbur had very clearly given him the order to keep George alive.

But that’s where the lines blurred.

“It’s more than that.” George coughed, his voice croaky. “You act like you care.”

Tommy stayed silent after that, quickly and efficiently stitching the cut closed and placing gauze over the area. He brought the food and water to George in complete silence, assisting him in drinking from the cup and bringing chunks of the bread to his mouth for him to eat. There were strict instructions to not untie him at any cost.

And so with that Tommy checked the ropes to ensure they were tight enough to hold but not enough to cut off circulation and fled from the room.

~

The days were much quieter now. Dream hadn’t spoke a word to L’Manburg so Wilbur rightfully assumed he was plotting on how to get George back.

For L’Manburg it was only a matter of keeping up appearances. Wilbur and Fundy had managed to find out a decent amount of information from George and if Dream and Sapnap brought forward a good enough offer Wilbur planned to hand him over, no questions asked.

This gave Tommy some kind of relief.

The residents of L’Manburg had lit a large fire within their borders one night and they all sat around it together for what felt like the first time in months. Tommy genuinely felt very happy, all of the war and the fighting and the orders melting away left him feeling a lot lighter and more like a boy.

had helped him roast pork chops over the flames as Eret and Wilbur began singing songs that Tubbo enthusiastically joined in with. Tubbo began telling stories about a field of bees he had stumbled across when looking for cows earlier in the week and Tommy jumped in with a joke that Wilbur heartily laughed at.

Tommy grinned; it was nice acting like friends instead of a leader and a soldier.

The night was full of laughs and good food and for the first night in a long time Tommy fell asleep on Fundy’s shoulder with a clear conscience.

It was already late in the day when Tommy woke up. He was still curled up next to Fundy who was also still passed out and he could spot Tubbo across from the dying embers of the fire bundled up underneath Wilbur’s jacket still fast asleep.

Eret and Wilbur were nowhere to be found.

As carefully as possible Tommy peeled himself away from his fox friend and crept back inside of the caravan to find something for breakfast.

What he didn’t expect to find was Wilbur sat at the table with Dream and Sapnap, completely bare of armour, sat across from him.

Tommy gaped like a fish as Wilbur motioned him over. He moved like clockwork to his leader’s side as Dream’s masked face tracked his journey across the room. It unnerved Tommy to be unable to see what was happening on the man’s face. Wilbur explained it simply, Dream refused to use independence as a token in a trade so to make the eventual fight for freedom fairer both Sapnap and Dream were offering their netherite for George’s return.

Wilbur had, as he had said he would, accepted the deal.

“I sent Eret to get George but he’s taking his time with it. Tommy, go check on him, yeah.” Wilbur was blunt with the order and Tommy made quick work of leaving the room and going down the stairs to the underground section where they had been keeping George.

There were no natural light sources, only a few scarcely scattered torches so it was difficult to see and probably very difficult for George to live in as it was freezing cold also. Tommy could just about see the iron door laying ajar in front of him, a torch hung on the wall next to it.

Eret was crouched inside the cell, his back to the staircase, most likely untying George’s hands to bring him upstairs. There was an occasional hushed whisper but no real talking so Tommy gingerly walked over to the doorway. Eret glanced over his shoulder at him with a smile before standing up and offering George a hand that the man weakly took.

In a matter of seconds George stood between them on shaky legs, his face still bandaged among other visible and hidden injuries and his clothes dirty. With both Eret and Tommy’s help they hiked back upstairs to the main section of the caravan where Dream and Sapnap were now standing rigidly as Wilbur sat, looking very pleased with himself, at the head of the table.

Dream’s head snapped towards them as the sound of their footsteps entered the room and even though his face was covered, the way his fists clenched by his sides showed just how infuriated he was as he saw George.

Sapnap was a lot more vocal about his rage, hissing out a “bastard” in Wilbur’s direction before marching towards Tommy, Eret and George, the latter of which he pulled into a tight hug.

Wilbur was trying to hide his smirk as George and Sapnap gripped each other’s forearms in a silent hello only for Sapnap to bite his cheek in annoyance when he saw the rope burns on his friend’s wrists. Dream gave a stern nod to each of the L’Manburg residents before swiftly leaving the caravan, closely followed by George and Sapnap.

Wilbur was the first to speak once the trio had left the walls. “I’d say that’s a hard win for L’Manburg. Not only do we have their netherite stash now but we actually managed to find out a good bit from George.”

Eret gave a smile and Tommy forced a grin as he said as wholeheartedly as he could, “Sir, yes, sir.”

Wilbur laughed, standing from his seat and pulling Tommy into a bone crushing hug. “I’m proud of you, kid. I’m honoured to stand by your side in this fight.” Tommy squeezed back in the hug, a real, genuine smile now on his face.

“Thank you, Will.”

~

After the trade with Dream things strangely stayed quite quiet. Tommy assumed they were caring for George properly before rushing into another battle.

The residents of L’Manburg had decided to take some time for themselves; Fundy and Tubbo often went bee hunting and came home each night to tell the group about the flowers and mountains they came across while exploring.

Eret continued to mine and farm in the nether for supplies. Tommy didn’t see him much in the weeks following the trade as he was either outside the borders or fast asleep after a long day of work.

To Tommy’s surprise Wilbur seemed enthusiastic about spending time with the younger boy during the grace period. The two had done a variety of things, from polishing glass bottles for their potions to tilling the soil for a fresh crop of carrots, but Tommy had enjoyed every moment of it.

Before the war he would have considered Wilbur his closest friend, closely followed by Tubbo, but as the fighting broke out their relationship fizzled away into a much stricter, no more room for banter, dynamic. Tommy would follow Wilbur anywhere and there was nothing he wanted more than to feel safe with his friends by his side.

That’s why he was doing this.

It was obvious that Wilbur had missed the more light-hearted times also; the nostalgia was basically engraved into his features every time Tommy played one of his discs or the two raced each other through the trees.

Hearing the laughter was something Tommy hadn’t realised he’d missed and the knowledge that sooner rather than later he would have to give it up again often dampened his mood.

He wasn’t ready for it.

Which is why when Dream gave a number of conditions for a battle in a nearby clearing Tommy felt his heart sink. Wilbur seemed to melt away leaving behind the General that Tommy had learnt to accept and war preparations filled the day instead of the lighthearted fun that had only days earlier.

L’Manburg as a whole felt confident, they had a freshly brewed stash of potions, each of them had a netherite sword and fully armed bows and they knew that the rest of the SMP were low on resources; there was no possible way they’d made back what they lost in the few weeks everything was silent.

So on the set day Wilbur, followed closely by Tommy, led L’Manburg to the clearing, the group stopping on top of a small hill so that they were looking down on their opponents.

Dream, Sapnap and George were already there, fully clothed in diamond armour with matching swords at their hips. Dream’s crossbow was slung over his shoulder next to his tightly packed quiver of arrows as he stood, arms folded with his cloaked billowing behind him, inspecting the new arrivals from behind his mask.

George looked significantly better compared to when Tommy saw him last. The gauze and bandages had been removed but the cut was still healing, the new black stitches in the wound were stark and the skin around them was puckered and red. There were bandages wrapped around his hands, most likely for the broken fingers but other than that he looked almost perfectly healthy and ready for blood.

Wilbur drew his sword and Tommy followed his actions as the others readied their bows.

Dream pulled down his crossbow, pinching an arrow from his quiver in a smooth motion and cocking it in place before pointing it straight at Wilbur, his expression was unknown but Tommy could almost hear the smirk behind the smiley face mask.

“I’ll let you all surrender now if you ask nicely.” Dream purred, his head tilting to the side.

Wilbur’s face twisted in disgust. “You wish, you stubborn green asshole.”

Dream hummed, cracking his neck before raising an arm in the air. “One last chance.”

spat at Dream’s feet.

The masked man shrugged nonchalantly before dropping his hand and Tommy felt his entire body tense as he saw Sapnap strike a match and throw it at the foot of the hill.

Tubbo took a few nervous steps backwards and Fundy’s ears stood straight up as the familiar hissing sound filled the clearing.

It was Tommy who gave the blunt and simple order to, “run!” As he turned on his heel and sprinted, Wilbur joining him at his side in a matter of seconds. The ground shook as the TNT finally went off and Tommy stumbled, only being saved from falling by Tubbo who quickly grabbed his arm to tug him along.

The sound of laughter echoed over the explosions as the SMP watched them scramble and Tommy only just about managed to hear Eret as he asked them to follow him to where he was storing the resources he had been crafting.

Wilbur gave a hurried nod and the group switched course towards the woods where Eret skilfully led them to a large oak tree where much to Tommy’s surprise a trap door was hidden between the roots.

Wilbur climbed into the hole first and Tommy quickly followed, motioning a terrified Tubbo to come after him. Fundy quickly scanned the area before joining the descent and Eret dropped down last, shutting the trap door tight behind him.

The tunnel was pitch black and the group moved slowly though they occasionally awed at the expanse of what Eret had done in such a short period of time. It seemed to stretch on for miles and Tommy pouted at the idea of having to walk the whole way there and back.

“We’re nearly there, there’s a small opening on the left just up ahead. That’s where the stuff is.” Eret mumbled, trying to be as quiet as possible.

Wilbur stretched an arm out to brush along the left side of the wall until he stopped, ducking down to fit his tall form through the hole. Tommy ducked in after him, closely followed by the rest of the group until they all stood in a small room filled with chests.

There was a single sign in the middle of the room that very simply read, ‘Final Control Room’ in black, bold letters.

Tommy made his way to a chest in the far corner of the room that had his name neatly printed on the lid and he carefully felt along all the ridges and dips in the wood as he heard Wilbur open his chest next to him.

“Eret?” Wilbur muttered. Eret hummed in answer. “There’s nothing in here.”

Tommy’s brow furrowed as he grabbed the latch and opened the chest to find as Wilbur had said that there was nothing there. “Huh? Eret what’s going on?”

There was a deadly silence and Tommy looked up from his chest to see Eret blocking the small entrance with his hand resting on a button next to him. Even with his dark glasses, Tommy could see the malice in his friend’s eyes.

“Down with the revolution, boys. It was never meant to be.”

There was a series of piston noises as Eret slammed his fist into the button and suddenly the walls slid open to reveal the SMP members grinning down at them all.

“Boo.” Sapnap grinned before launching himself into the room, sword swinging.

“Eret you bastard!” Tommy snarled, reaching for his own sword only to be grabbed by the hair from behind with a knife to his throat.

“I would put that thing away, kid. You sure you even know how to use it?” Dream’s voice mocked him next to his ear and Tommy held his breath as he brought his hands up in front of him as surrender.

Dream hummed, clearly pleased with the submission before yanking Tommy’s head to the side so he could watch the destruction happening in the room. Eret was leaning cockily against the wall in one of the many passages the SMP had entered through as Sapnap and George kept Wilbur and Fundy still with swords to each of their throats. Tubbo was lying unconscious in the corner next to what would have been his chest.

“Well, would you look at that.” Dream sneered. “Wish I could say I’m surprised.”

Tommy wet his lips, terrified to even move in case the knife to his throat cut him in any way. His eyes landed on Eret who was watching either him or Dream intently and he couldn’t help but scowl at the man he would have only moments ago called a close friend.

“I say this in the nicest way possible, Eret. You fucked up.”

Eret hummed in consideration, removing his sunglasses and hooking them on the collar of his L’Manburg uniform. “Depends on how you look at it though, Tommy.”

Tommy snarled, lunging forwards while completely disregarding Dream who still had his hair in a tight grip.

The masked man pulled him back into his chest, pressing the knife down hard enough to draw blood which made the boy hiss and grab Dream’s forearm in an attempt to lessen the pressure.

Dream didn’t budge.

Wilbur’s eyes narrowed at the sight and Tommy could see him glare for a moment at George who was holding him at sword point before shifting his gaze solely to Dream. “Now what, huh?” He spat. “I bet you have us right where you want us, so now what? Stop dragging it out, give the order and kill us already.”

Tommy could see Fundy flinch at the harsh reality of their situation.

Dream chuckled and Tommy could feel the man move behind him before Sapnap and George lowered their swords from his friend’s throats. The knife to Tommy’s neck still didn’t move an inch.

“Don’t get me wrong, this went as perfectly as I ever could have hoped and now I have exactly what I want, so me and my friends will be on our way.” Dream chirped, taking a step backwards to the hole in the wall he had originally come from, dragging Tommy with him. Wilbur drew in a sharp intake of air as the meaning of Dream’s words finally hit him like a freight train.

“Why Tommy? What has he done to you? He’s just a kid, think about it like a human being please.” There was clear desperation in Wilbur’s voice and Tommy felt his heart swell in appreciation despite the crippling terror that was pulsing through him from the never-ending feeling of contact with the masked man he had been fighting against for so long.

It was, to L’Manburg’s surprise, George that responded.

“You weren’t after me in particular were you? I was just the one you were able to hit that arrow so you took me. Tommy, poor kid, was the one whose chest was right next to the tunnel Dream ended up coming down.” George shrugged nonchalantly. “You understand don’t you, Will. We need information.”

The mockery behind George’s words sent a feeling of dread right through him and if his resolve wasn’t as hardened as it was, Tommy knew he would have burst into tears where he stood in Dream’s grasp.

He gulped cautiously around the knife that was still harshly pressed into his neck. He had resorted to blocking out the stinging pain the blade was delivering and the feeling of his warm blood dripping down his neck onto his uniform. Tommy looked Wilbur in the eyes with a clear message hidden in them. ‘Let me go.’

Wilbur looked conflicted, eyeing up the sword still in George’s hold next to him, weighing up his options.

With the little head movement Tommy had with the tight grip on his hair he shook his head.

His friend wilted where he stood and Tommy could see Fundy’s ears drooping as his large eyes watered.

The absolute silence remained as Eret jumped into the passage he was stood next to, followed by Sapnap and George. Dream took the final few steps into his own tunnel, shoving Tommy in before him before pushing a button that closed the passage behind them both.

The muffled sound of movement washed into the tunnel and Tommy could make out the sound of Fundy shaking Tubbo awake while Wilbur banged on the wall they had vanished into.

“No hard feelings, kid.” Dream’s voice shattered the quiet and Tommy had no time to even turn to question what he meant before the hilt of the man’s swords slammed into his temple, knocking him out cold.

Chapter Text

PART 2 (3189)

“We arm ourselves with the wrongs we’ve done. Name them off one by one.”

It was an unknown amount of time later that Tommy woke up in an unfamiliar room. Instantly he was hit with a pounding migraine in his skull and a dull stinging on his neck. He brought his hands to the area to feel bandages and he also noticed that his hands were bound.

There were thick knots of rope around each wrist, joined together by a loop between them that allowed him enough freedom to function but not to do anything that could help his escape.

The bandages around his neck were secure and Tommy could feel a wet substance behind them, presumably some kind of cream or antiseptic to stop the cut from getting infected.

Tommy quickly scanned the room, seeing nothing of interest apart from the bed he was lying on and a barred window above him where the dim light of sunset poured in.

He scrambled to his feet, reaching out with his tied hands to grab the bars as he stared outside to catch his bearings. His head throbbed in protest but he ignored it. Instantly he could see where he was, some kind of downstairs room in the tower they had originally cornered the SMP at. He could see his old base just across from him and Tommy could feel his heart drop at the sight.

Times were simpler when he lived there.

He looked back down to the bed to see a small, off-white coloured pillow and a reasonably new blanket folded at the foot of it which shocked the boy; he was expecting similar or worse surroundings than what L’Manburg had given George.

But that worried him.

He was alone, there was no one there to threaten him when he woke up, he wasn’t tied to a chair with the trio staring him down ready to force information out of him, instead he was enjoying a half decent prison cell in worrying solitude.

Tommy could only assume this was the calm before the storm.

He sat back down on the bed, his legs brushing the floor as he picked at a loose thread on the mattress. Tommy was terrified, he missed his friends more than anything.

And then the memories came flooding back along with everything Eret had done to them.

The rage flooded over him again and Tommy could feel his fists clench as he glared at the door, just knowing that somewhere beyond it Eret was sitting with Dream like old friends after abandoning his family to achieve it.

He wasn’t thinking clearly as he began to yell. “Is there anyone there, huh? You’re just gonna leave me here alone? You trying to scare me, you ugly green bastard?” Tommy was seething as he threw himself off the bed and pounded his fists against the door as well as he could with the bounds. He was breathing heavily, forehead resting against the cool metal of the door when he finished his angered rant and he felt a little bit better for it.

He knew Wilbur would be disappointed that he let himself go so early and that he showed Dream that he had affected him but he couldn’t help himself. Eret had left a deep wound in his heart that nothing would fix. Tommy would never be the same person he was the day before.

“Are you done with your hissy fit yet or are you gonna try to attack me the second I open this door?” Dream’s voice echoed into the room from beyond the door.

Tommy inhaled sharply, backing away from the entrance, his fists clenched in front of him with a red face.

“Hey, kid? You going to answer or?”

“I won’t do anything.” Tommy tried his hardest to sound confident and not let his voice waver but he doubted he sounded convincing to the older man.

Regardless, he heard a click and the door swung open to show Dream standing there with no armour and nought but a sword hooked on his belt. The familiar white mask still covered his features and Tommy felt himself shiver as the stoic smiley face examined him quietly.

He couldn’t help but wonder what the man under the mask looked like, if he looked his age or if his eyes had gone dull yet. If there were any marks or scars on his skin and what colour his eyes were compared to the two messily painted dots Tommy was so used to looking into.

“Did you sleep well? You’ve been out for a while, sorry for hitting you as hard as I did.” Dream’s head cocked to the side as Tommy stood rigid. He gave no reply.

Dream sighed, disappearing back into the hallway to drag a wooden chair into the cell.

Tommy choked on air, his hands clamming up as his heart nearly exploded from his chest. The chair was scarily similar to the one Tommy had watched George be tied to so many times and flashes of the blades and the screaming shot through his head like bullets.

The boy backed away from Dream, the backs of his legs soon colliding with his small bed. It resulted in a dull thud that caused Dream to look back up at him and Tommy froze like a deer in headlights. Dream’s gaze quickly darted between him and the chair before he chuckled.

“Don’t worry this isn’t for you.”

That was hardly reassuring.

Dream planted himself on the chair, motioning for Tommy to do the same. Nervously, Tommy complied, lowering himself onto the bed.

He picked at his cuticles as the silence fell over them again and the boy felt nothing but utter terror, like a black pit in his stomach that was swallowing him up from the inside. He was certain he was going to throw up.

The masked man leant forward to rest on his thighs as he continued to study Tommy like an animal in a zoo.

“Tell me, kid. And tell me honestly. Why do you follow Wilbur?”

Tommy despised how casual Dream was sounding. He was expecting yelling and screaming and tears, not a half-normal conversation.

“I don’t know what you want me to say to that.” Tommy’s voice was meek and quiet and hardly believable.

“I want you to tell me your honest answer, it’s not a trick question.” He didn’t sound forceful or impatient, he just sat expectantly in his seat.

Familiar words danced through Tommy’s skull, Wilbur telling him to never give anything up, not to let the enemy know they’d gotten to him, to stay silent, but he highly doubted he could follow those orders for much longer.

The absolute pleasantness Dream was exerting made it hard to stay in the war mindset and the questions he was being asked seemed innocent, there was no way Dream could formulate a plan to take down L’Manburg from why Tommy is friends with Will.

So why was Dream not asking different questions, why was he not asking for maps and numbers and stock? Why not quiz him on strengths and weak points?

But then, Tommy countered, Eret had probably already told him all of that.

Things began to fall into place in the boy’s head.

Even though the SMP denied aiming for Tommy in particular the whole set up seemed too elaborate to just grab any of them. Eret had placed named chests next to certain openings, openings that each member of the SMP went down. It was entirely plausible Dream knew exactly what opening Tommy would be standing at.

And Dream would know, thanks to Eret, that Tommy was the centerpiece to everything. He was Tubbo’s best friend. Tubbo, who was so easily manipulated, so easily scared. He was Wilbur’s best friend and right hand man, he knew Wilbur better than anyone, he knew Will’s strategies, he knew the ins and outs of the nation after planning with Wilbur for the many hours that he did. He was close to the leader, close enough that Wilbur would panic at his loss; he was a bargaining chip.

“He’s my friend.” Tommy said bluntly.

Dream seemed to contemplate it.

“How good of a friend are you to blindly follow him into a losing war? What has he done for you to be so… loyal?” Dream sounded genuinely confused yet curious, like this was a riveting conversation and not an interrogation.

“We’ve always been there for each other, no matter what.” Tommy kept his answers short.

Dream let out an exasperated sigh. “That doesn’t explain why you joined this war. We were friends were we not? Wilbur wanted something I couldn’t give so war broke out, and you joined his side.” Dream’s gaze was scrutinising. “What was the difference?”

What was the difference?

“L’Manburg is something that I wanted, not war. But if helping Wilbur meant I got the country then I knew what side was better, I trust him.” Tommy held his voice steady and held Dream’s gaze for a short moment before the masked man looked away.

“You didn’t want the war? You didn’t want the violence?” Dream asked.

“I didn’t and I don’t.” Tommy stated surely.

“Then why is your friend making you do it? You’re a kid, Tommy, don’t deny it. You and Tubbo both.”

Tommy’s throat closed up, he had no reply.

“You had L’Manburg, you had your land. All Wilbur didn’t have was absolute power over it. I gave you freedom and yet Wilbur led you into a battle because that wasn’t enough for him.” Dream’s tone was accusing and to his dismay, Tommy could understand and empathise with the point he was making.

“We wanted independence, asshole.”

Dream laughed. “What does independence mean, Tommy?”

The man left with that question hanging heavily in the air, dragging his chair with him before locking the door.

Tommy thought he knew the answer, it was something he had pined over for so long with his friends, something Wilbur had encouraged him to strive for. They were determined.

But what did that independence imply?

Because Dream was right, wasn’t he? He had always allowed them to run amok on the SMP, building what they wanted and exploring what they wanted to explore. Half of the time he had joined in, his laughter pouring out in waves from behind his mask as he chased Fundy around with his newly crafted netherite sword.

There had always been friendly competition between them before Wilbur had arrived, Dream openly expressing his want for the rare disc Tommy had managed to retrieve. It had resulted in weeks worth of a Tom and Jerry type chase until Tommy came out victorious with the item safely in his Ender Chest; the Ender Chest that was still safely behind the walls of L’Manburg that only Tommy, Tubbo and Wilbur had access to.

They had always had independence, Dream never acted like their ruler, much more like their friend.

When Wilbur moved into the SMP it was like a paradise. Tommy hadn’t seen him since he was a child and the way they had reunited in the SMP with all of Tommy’s other friends surrounding him had convinced the boy that he could happily spend the rest of his days there.

Wilbur, with his natural loveable aura, instantly clicked with everyone there and Fundy grew so close to the older man that Wilbur may as well have been his father.

Until something changed.

Tommy had woken up late after staying up into the early hours of the morning mining for netherite, an unsuccessful mission sadly as the boy was too scared to venture too far from the portal in fear of death. He had found Tubbo instantly and they began some friendly sparring in the field outside of Tommy’s house. Dream and George had passed them at some point in their game, Dream sneakily knocking Tommy off his feet which allowed Tubbo to win.

The masked man only laughed when Tommy yelled at him.

As the light grew dimmer he had gone looking for Wilbur to ask if he wanted to eat with him only to find him stuck in a pleasant conversation with Sapnap atop a tree.

As soon as Will spotted Tommy, he wished Sapnap a good evening and launched himself to the ground, ushering Tommy to quietly follow him as he walked into the woods.

Tommy remembered how hushed yet excited Wilbur’s voice was as he explained his plan to farm all the blaze rods and brewing stands and market off brewing potions to the rest of the SMP when they realised they couldn’t do it themselves. It was like a pantomime as Wilbur pushed back a clump of branches to reveal a small but modest caravan, clearly built with nothing but Wilbur’s own two hands.

Tommy had stood in silence as Wilbur rambled on about the money and the plan and the things they would need and Tommy couldn’t help but agree to help because his friend had sounded so excited and so sure of himself. He wanted to be a part of this.

Tommy had recruited Tubbo instantly and Eret quickly joined the bandwagon along with an excitable Fundy.

They were unstoppable and everything was running like clockwork.

Tommy had never felt as happy in his life and the joy that spread through him like a fire as Wilbur announced that they were a nation of their own was so fulfilling and warm and Tommy would do anything to feel it again.

It didn’t take long after that for Dream to step in, understandably so.

Wilbur had announced himself the leader on the SMP’s soil and was refusing to give Dream any magma cream to help with a burn George had gotten while in the nether, as according to him Dream was too full of himself to buy the potions like everyone else.

That’s when Sapnap burnt their forest down as Dream handed over the declaration of war like some kind of sick Christmas present.

Tommy pushed the thoughts from his head as he fumbled with the blanket to drape it over himself as he lay down on his small bed in the prison cell as the light finally disappeared from his window.

He tossed and turned for hours that night and didn’t sleep a wink.

~

Tommy spent the majority of the next day alone just stewing in his thoughts. Sapnap had quietly entered and left at a few hours intervals and left food and water and Tommy, despite his better judgement, had dejectedly taken them.

He was expecting Dream to return every waking minute of the day to use more forceful methods to expand on what he had asked the day before but Tommy didn’t catch even a glimpse of the smiley face mask anywhere near his cell.

What did they want from him?

The last thing Tommy expected was for George to appear outside the iron door as the sunset cast an orange glow around his cell. The man entered the cell with a small box and a torch that he quickly hooked onto the wall to better light the room up and also fill it with a homey warmth. He approached Tommy with a smile, the box in his hands, and crouched down in front of him as Tommy huddled himself into the corner of the bed.

“This is familiar isn’t it?” George laughed softly, tugging Tommy towards him gently by the ropes around his wrists. Tommy sharply inhaled at the motion and George moved his hands into the sign of surrender. “I just need to check your neck, like how you helped me, yeah? Consider it repaying the favour” he motioned to the healing cut on his face. The stitches had been removed but the skin was still pink and raised and looked irritable, regardless, George didn't seem bothered by it.

Tommy scooted ever so slightly closer to the edge of the bed and George hummed in approval as he began unraveling the bandages and the gauze around the area. His fingers moved with practiced ease as he inspected the cut before opening the box and removing a small tub of some sort of oil that he massaged into the skin.

There was a momentary stinging that made Tommy wince before it faded into a dull tingling sensation.

“That should keep it from hurting for another day or two and it looks clear from infections.” George mumbled, either to himself or to Tommy. “I’ll keep the bandages on for another while though, better safe than sorry.” George did as he mused as Tommy sat in silence. There was one question in his brain that he desperately wanted the answer to so despite his anxiety he asked it.

“Why?”

In other circumstances Tommy would have found himself laughing at the irony of the situation. It was a carbon copy of the encounter that had happened what felt like months ago and it seemed that George found it amusing also.

“Because you have information that we need.” The older mocked.

If Tommy wasn't shitting bricks of pure anxiety he would have rolled his eyes at that.

“I’m being serious, George.”

George studied him for a moment before replying. “Because you’ve done nothing wrong, Tommy. You’ve been dragged into something that you never should have been a part of and now you’re stuck in the crossfire. You helped me so I’m helping you and I’m doing everything I can to make sure you go home safe.”

Tommy had never heard words so sincere before.

The next day was significantly more eventful. Dream arrived early in the morning and just sat in the room as Tommy stared out the small window of his cell at the sun as it rose from the hills like a Tommy in spring.

“I can tell you’ve been thinking a lot.” Dream broke the silence after a few hours. “I left a lot of stuff in the air the other day, didn’t I?”

“You could say that.” Tommy mumbled, still facing the window.

“You know that I’m right, kid. Wilbur began this war because he didn't have enough. He robbed the entire nation for his own gain, refused to help George because he would gain nothing from it and spat all over the freedom and rights I gave you all as king.”

Tommy didn't reply, tears pooling in the corner of his eyes.

“He has no respect for anyone but himself.” Dream continued to bash Wilbur.

“That’s not true.” Tommy seethed under his breath. Because that one wasn't. Wilbur respected him if anything, they were best friends for as long as he could remember.

“Say that again, kid. Couldn’t hear you.” Dream’s voice was daring.

“That’s not true.” He sounded surer of himself this time, his voice firmer and louder as he turned to glare at Dream form over his shoulder.

Dream’s mask stared blankly back at him.

“Huh.” Dream sighed. “If you say so, kid. Now get up, you’re going back to L’Manburg.”

Tommy spun around completely to stare in shock at his captor.

He could only imagine the grin behind the mask. “Wilbur is trading your disc for your return”

Chapter Text

PART 3 (9208)

“Screaming at the ones we love, Like we forgot who we can trust. Screaming at the top of our lungs, On the grounds where we feel safe. Do we feel safe?”

To say the exchange was awkward would be an understatement.

Wilbur had come with Tubbo who was desperately clutching the disc in his hand as Wilbur stood with his jaw protruding, clearly very on edge being this disadvantaged in Dream’s territory.

Dream had walked Tommy to the room with a firm hand on his shoulder and when Tubbo had sheepishly passed the disc into Sapnap’s waiting hand, Dream lightly shoved the blond boy forwards.

There was little to no words passed between the two groups apart from a whisper Dream gave to Tommy that consisted only of a very confusing ‘good luck, kid. Come find me if you need it’.

Tubbo sagged in relief as Tommy stumbled over to his side and the two boys gave each other nervous grins as Wilbur gave Dream a small appreciative nod before ushering Tommy and Tubbo to follow him as he spun on his heel and marched out of the room.

Tommy caught sight of George smiling at him as he was guided by Tubbo back outside.

The ropes were still rubbing sorely against his wrists which to be truthful was entirely his own fault. George had made a point of keeping them loose but Tommy’s constant struggling when he was left to his thoughts in the cell for hours on end had tightened them around his skin. Tubbo quickly noticed his agitation.

“Part of the deal was we came unarmed, I’m sorry, Tommy, I’ll cut them off as soon as we get back to L’Manburg” His friend truly sounded upset by the fact he couldn’t help him.

Tommy gave him a reassuring grin, sloppily performing some jazz hands to demonstrate that he was ok. “It’s fine, Tubbo, I’m all good.”

Wilbur looked back at them from over his shoulder, a stern look on his features and Tommy felt himself shrink under the glare.

Never once had he truly been under the wrath of Wilbur and he had never planned to be either but the icy stare Wilbur seemed to be sending him had him genuinely shaking. Tubbo glanced nervously at him, gnawing on his lip as Tommy lowered his head to stare intently at the ropes wrapped around his hands.

The walk to L’Manburg seemed to stretch on for so much longer than Tommy ever remembered it being, whether it be from his perception of time being disrupted in the cell or from the dread steadily building in his stomach.

Dream’s warning echoed through his skull as he walked. “Good luck, kid.”

Why did Tommy feel like he would need it.

~

Fundy rushed from the walls as soon as he saw the trio appear from over a hill. They were still quite far away but because of the lack of trees in the area, Fundy could see them from miles away.

All things considered, Sapnap had done them a favour when he burnt the forest down. Less obstruction of vision meant better vantage points for L’Manburg.

The fox nearly tripped a number of times as he slid down the ladder of the walls and sprinted for the gates, crushing Tommy in a hug as soon as he was close enough.

Tommy gave a choked laugh as the fox mumbled into his shoulder about how worried he was and if Tommy had been hurt. Tommy only hugged his friend back. “I’m fine, Fundy. You can let go, they didn’t hurt me.”

Wilbur cleared his throat and Fundy backed away from the youngest and watched carefully as the leader eyed Tommy warily before dismissing both Fundy and Tubbo.

Tubbo protested with little to no hesitation. “But Will he just got back, I was gonna help his wrists and have a look at his neck. I’ve missed him, Wilbur don’t make me go yet.”

Wilbur remained as stoic as Dream’s smiley face mask. “I said you’re dismissed, I’ll sort out his wrists and you’ll see him later. He isn’t going anywhere.”

Tubbo looked like he was going to disagree again but Fundy lightly grasped his elbow with his ears flat against his head and gave the younger one a look that clearly spelt out to shut up.

Both Tubbo and Fundy were gone from sight in a matter of minutes.

There was a beat of nothingness where Tommy and Wilbur stood by the gates in absolute silence and Tommy couldn’t help but think back to the day they had caught George and they had sat at the table in the caravan.

Tommy was afraid to speak then and he was terrified now.

Wilbur made the first move, motioning for Tommy to follow him as they made their way to the caravan and Tommy made quick work of doing exactly as he was told as he nervously shuffled behind his leader.

Being in the enclosed inside space made the situation so much worse and Tommy couldn’t register anything except for the heavy weight of Wilbur’s stare on him.

“Sit down, Tommy.”

He did.

Wilbur sat at the opposite end of the table, his forearms planted firmly on the furniture as he studied Tommy like an exhibit in a zoo.

“What did you tell them?”

Tommy nearly cried in relief knowing that Wilbur couldn’t possibly be mad at him for what he had achieved. Tommy could only assume this cold treatment would melt away once Wilbur realised there was nothing to worry about.

“I didn’t tell them anything.” Tommy said proudly.

Wilbur outwardly scoffed at him. “You expect me to just believe that?”

Tommy was taken aback, blinking slowly as he watched Wilbur stare him down like a predator.

“Well, yeah. I didn’t tell them anything, Wilbur, I swear.” Tommy could hear his words shake in fear in tandem with his body.

“That’s sir to you.”

Now Tommy was genuinely shocked.

Most of the time Tommy referred to Wilbur as sir anyway but there were many occasions where Wilbur had laughed it off saying it made him feel older than he was. Never once had the older man demanded it of him.

“You’re trying to tell me that after we torture one of Dream’s men for information that he kidnapped you in retaliation and didn’t touch you? You’re trying to say that you told him nothing and he let you leave with nothing but rope burn?”

Wilbur was fuming now and Tommy could only stare wide eyed at the ropes still tightly wound around limbs. He didn’t expect for Wilbur to use this argument and while Tommy knew his point made sense he didn’t know how to convince Wilbur that it was wrong.

“You have to believe me, sir. He asked why I was friends with you and then asked me why I was helping you fight for independence.” Tommy was becoming desperate.

“Do you take me for a fool? I lose one man to Dream and now another comes back to me untouched and you really expect me to believe that you haven’t told him anything?”

Tommy gaped. “But I didn’t, really I- I didn’t.”

“I’d kill you where you stand if it wasn’t for Tubbo and Fundy.” Wilbur spat. Tommy felt a part of himself break. “But if I leave you alive I can’t have you run like a squealing pig back to Dream.”

Tommy wished he had the sense to respond, to try even somewhat to defend himself but his resolve had shattered.

He has no respect for anyone but himself.

Dream… was right, wasn’t he?

Tommy didn’t even flinch, he just hung completely still in Wilbur’s grasp as the older man roughly grabbed him and walked him to the stairs that led to the cell.

He shoved him down the stone steps and Tommy fell flat at the bottom, instantly tasting blood in his mouth and feeling the liquid drip from his nostrils. Wilbur grabbed him by the scruff again and heaved him up from the floor before harshly guiding him to the cold, dark empty cell Tommy was unfortunately familiar with.

Before Tommy’s thoughts had time to catch up to the situation the door was slammed shut and he sat numb on the thin mat on the floor, feeling the blood steadily fall drop by drop from his nose onto his chin and uniform.

First he had lost Eret and now he had lost Wilbur as well and because he was down in the cell, unable to defend himself. Fundy and Tubbo would hear what Wilbur believed and not the truth.

He had lost everyone in a matter of days and there was nothing Tommy could do to stop it.

~

What was either hours or a day later Tommy woke up from a restless sleep.

His nose, while the blood had stopped running from it, ached like a bitch and Tommy could only guess that it was broken and he had no way of treating it.

His hands were still tightly bound and the room he was in was cold and dark and even though Tommy begged himself to not let them, tears began to spring up in the corner of his eyes.

He was alone and he was scared.

Tommy sat in petrified silence as he waited for someone to come down to him, whether it be to demand non-existent truths from him or to bring him back up to the surface of L’Manburg, his home.

Tommy hated how bitter the word felt on his tongue.

For hours nobody came until he heard a door creak through the deafening silence. He couldn’t help but perk up at the sound, like an excited puppy waiting on its owners coming home. Tommy hoped that it wasn’t Wilbur who was now slowly descending the stairs.

The heavy iron door creaked open moments later and a thin sliver of torch light poured into the cell to illuminate Tommy who was curled into a ball on the floor. In the open gap Tommy could quickly distinguish the silhouette of Tubbo standing there.

There was a pregnant pause from both of them before Tubbo nervously shuffled into the cell.

“Wilbur told me what happened.” His voice was meek and sad.

Tommy could only respond with a guttural groan.

Tubbo anxiously wrung his hands out as he observed Tommy staring at him with pleading behind his eyes. “Tommy please just tell Will what you told Dream. You don’t need to lay down here. You’re from L’Manburg, we’ll sort this out together but you have to tell him what you told them.”

“Tubbo, listen to me please.”

Tubbo looked uneasy.

“I didn’t tell him anything, I swear on everything I own, I swear on my disc for God’s sake.” In any usual circumstance Tommy wouldn’t resort to begging on the floor like an insect, he would stand up for himself, he wouldn’t back down. But the boy was growing desperate, fast.

He was watching his life and his friends fall through his fingers like sand and he felt helpless. All he wanted was some normality.

And yet it was clear that Tubbo didn’t believe him either.

Tommy began to grow frustrated and that frustration quickly festered into anger that bubbled underneath his skin like boiling water and it burned.

It burned so badly that it hurt like the sadness hurt, it hurt the same way his nose hurt, it hurt like it hurt when Eret had led them to that room full of chests and Tommy just wanted it to stop.

But more than that he wanted everyone around him to feel the burn as harshly as he was.

“Fuck you, Tubbo. I really thought that above anything you would help me. We were friends long before Wilbur ever came into the picture and you’re just ready to throw that away because Wilbur told you to?”

Tubbo didn’t respond.

“Me and you have done everything together, we found diamonds together, we built these walls together, we fought for my disc together and yet you handed it away like some kind of game token when you knew what it meant to me!” Tommy was nearly vibrating with rage and that burning anger was beginning to spill out more and more like boiling water in a pot.

“It was either your disc or risk losing L’Manburg’s secrets to the SMP, Tommy. See sense, please. It was for the greater good.” Tubbo stumbled over his words like a newborn giraffe.

“There it is again, you gave away the one thing I cared about and it wasn’t even to help me! It was to make sure I didn’t open my fucking mouth!” Tubbo flinched at Tommy’s accusations.

“Tommy, please…”

“Shut the fuck up!” Tommy staggered to his feet, lunging at the older with fury burning behind his eyes and to Tommy’s disappointment Tubbo gave a piercing cry for help and Wilbur barged into the cell with nothing but malice in his expression.

There was no struggle as the older grabbed Tommy by the neck and held him firmly against the nearest wall, producing a small but sharp pocket knife from his jacket that he pressed into Tommy’s cheek.

“You’re showing what you really are then. I really hoped I was wrong, Tommy but the second you got the chance you attacked one of your own. Didn’t take much for you to show your true colours did it, you traitorous piece of shit?”

Tommy attempted to catch his breath but his senses were overrun with the smell of dried blood from his shirt that was being held directly in front of his face and the unsettling sensation of having a blade held against you.

The point of the knife was digging harshly into his skin and it would only take the smallest flick of Wilbur’s wrist to cut him. Tubbo’s small sniffles echoed around the cell and Tommy’s eyes manically darted around to find him, spitting in his general direction when he couldn’t find his figure.

“I told them nothing.” Tommy brought his gaze back to Wilbur’s and he stared at the man with just as much intensity as the older did to him. “But they still somehow managed to treat me better than you are now and they’re supposed to be the enemy.”

To Tommy’s disbelief, Wilbur all but snarled at him, his top lip curling back as he finally moved the knife to Tommy’s brow. “I’m gonna cut you like I cut the other rat.”

And he did just that.

The boy screamed and struggled against the wall but it didn't do much against the knife’s point as Wilbur dragged it through the same path that he had scarred George, from his eyebrow right down the side of his face to end at his cheek. The blood poured from it like a fountain and Tommy hissed as Wilbur dug his thumb into the fresh wound. “Now tell me what you told them.”

Tommy laughed despite the aching pain in his face. “Even if I had told them anything, I would rather die than give into you.”

Wilbur slammed Tommy’s back into the wall in rage before finally letting go of the material of the boy’s uniform that now felt heavy with betrayal and Tommy desperately wanted to free himself of the coat that he once felt protected in.

Wilbur turned to Tubbo to grab the God awful wooden chair and the second Tommy saw his chance, he took it.

Tommy never considered himself an athletic person. Yes, he was fit to an extent (he needed to be to wield a sword) but he avoided exercise as much as he could.

Even when the TNT had exploded those few days ago he hadn’t run as fast as he clambered up the stairs into the main part of the caravan. Those few days ago he didn’t feel this motivated and even though Tommy hated to admit it, if he wasn’t fast enough that day before he wouldn’t have minded much.

But now, he had a point to prove. He wasn’t going to let Wilbur, a man he would’ve once considered his closest friend, get any more hits on him.

His nose and face ached and the blood was steadily mixing with his sweat and falling into his eyes but he wouldn’t let it stop him as he burst out of the caravan with a resounding bang.

Fundy was standing there, looking at him with wide eyes and a drawn sword and Tommy stuttered to a stop, hands in the air.

The fox watched him sadly before lowering his weapon and jerking his head towards the entrance of L’Manburg, a gaping hole in the wall that screamed safety. Fundy was letting him go.

As quickly as he could Tommy gave him a smile, a promise that maybe one day he would see him again but he couldn’t possibly know what his life would turn to or if he would ever see his fox friend again.

With as little sadness he could muster, Tommy sprinted past the walls into the SMP’s territory.

~

In retrospect, Tommy should have made even the slightest of a plan as to where he would go if he made it out but the notion was lost to him.

With nowhere else to go, Tommy snuck as best as he could into his old base, the one that was built with foundations of happy memories with Tubbo, Dream and Wilbur. Standing in the building left Tommy feeling sick but there was nothing better for him. He had raided the chests but most of his things were still in his Ender chest back in L’Manburg and anything even remotely valuable he had left behind seemed to have been looted by the SMP.

Thankfully there was a small cluster of mushrooms left in one of his chests and he had enough wood to make a sloppy, but usable bowl. With a full stomach of mushroom stew he felt slightly better but he couldn’t ignore the burning pain that was still running down his face along with his throbbing nose. The cut was still somewhat bleeding but a lot of it had caked into his eyebrows or dried in the dips next to his lips and along his cheek and neck.

Tommy knew he probably looked like death.

He huddled himself into a corner to conserve warmth, leaving his L’Manburg uniform on as much as he wanted rid of it since warm clothing was warm clothing and Tommy wasn’t in the right state to complain.

Sleep evaded him which came as no surprise so he just stared at a wall, reminiscing about when things were fine. When he had helped Tubbo build his jungle base or when Sapnap had taken him to the Nether for the first time. His eyes darted around his old base remembering how Dream had chased him around the two small rooms with laughter when trying to take his disc.

The disc that Tommy no longer had.

To an extent, Dream had beaten him entirely.

Tears began to fall before Tommy even realised they were forming and he tried his best to muffle his pained sobs by biting in the skin of his forearm. His nose brushed against the ropes that still hadn’t been removed and he yelled in frustration, slamming his head into the wall that he was leaning on.

He freely let the tears fall after that, choked sobs and cries slipping past his lips like alarm bells to just announce to Wilbur with a glowing neon sign that he was hiding there. Tommy could really feel it now, that God awful looming presence of death breathing down your neck.

But it wasn’t Wilbur that found him.

“Oh my God, Tommy?” George’s voice cut through his sobs like a knife.

Tommy didn’t look up at the man but he could hear the stumbles as George dropped what he was holding and rushed towards him, pulling him into a light embrace. He could only imagine what he looked like to George right now, crying and snivelling while being covered in his own blood. He must look like his age for the first time in a long time because he felt like it, as Tommy was carefully hugged by George while he cried his heart out he felt like a kid again.

“George? What’s going on, what’s in there?” There was another voice, one Tommy recognised all too well.

Eret.

If Tommy wasn’t so swept in away in his own mourning he easily would have lashed out at the man, it was his fault this had happened. From the moment Eret betrayed them, L’Manburg began to fall apart and it was because of what he had done that Wilbur was so distrustful of him.

But Tommy only wanted comfort and despite everything, Eret was once one of his brothers and he needed him for support.

Because Tommy had no brothers left and as much as Tommy wanted to put all of the blame on Eret, Wilbur himself had driven Tommy away.

“It’s Tommy, I found him here just crying, I- I don’t know what’s wrong.” George sounded afraid and Eret rushed over to them both, staring worriedly down at the pair. Tommy could faintly see Eret drop to his knees next to them with pure unfiltered shock in his eyes.

By now Tommy was beyond delirious from crying in self pity and without any thought he threw himself from George’s grasp into the other man’s chest, grasping desperately at the fabric of his shirt as he sobbed into his shoulder.

Eret didn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around the boy, rubbing circles into his back while moving Tommy’s head to the nook of his neck so that it was more comfortable for both of them.

George and Eret made brief eye contact and with a silent agreement George quickly collected the food and ore he had dumped on the ground as Eret carefully stood up while lifting Tommy with him.

If Tommy noticed the shift he didn’t react, he just continued to claw at Eret’s shirt with his bound hands while staining the man with his tears and blood.

The trio began to move, Eret occasionally trying to hush Tommy’s muffled sobs since mobs were beginning to prowl the area as the moon fully took its mantle high in the abyss above them. They moved quickly and silently as they navigated the woods to emerge at a large oak house sitting idly by a lake.

George nudged the oak door with his foot, propping it open with his shoulder to usher Eret inside before closing it again to keep the monsters out. They made no effort to be quiet now that they were inside; George tossed the ore into a nearby chest and dumped the food on top of a furnace before grabbing the nearest cloth and soaking it in water.

Eret peeled Tommy away from his body, bringing him into the chest room of the base and setting him on top of one of the boxes, murmuring sweet nothings to the boy as he sniffled, his tears mostly dried up but his wounds still burning with pain.

George approached them moments later albeit cautiously but when Tommy didn’t even look up to see who it was he walked right up to him, crouching down to wash away the blood from the cut.

Tommy winced at every dab of the cloth but he sagged slightly in relief when Eret placed a gentle hand on his thigh for encouragement.

Once George finished his task he quickly disappeared again, prowling around the base in search of a needle and string as Tommy stared blankly at the floor.

“Why did you bring me here?”

The sudden question made Eret jump in surprise. He wasn’t expecting Tommy to speak and he most certainly didn’t expect for Tommy to sound so young.

The boy had always had a more mature aura surrounding him, he was confident in himself and his abilities and he could hold his own as well as any other adult so he never had a reason to sound so unsure.

Occasionally Tubbo would be too afraid to speak up and he would sound fragile and scared but never Tommy, Tommy always knew what he wanted and wasn’t afraid to ask for it.

Except for when it came to Wilbur.

And except for now.

Now, Eret realised, Tommy sounded nothing but broken. He sounded lost and depressed and unwanted. His voice was shaky from crying and it was barely above a whisper and it was so genuinely heartbreaking to listen to.

“Why wouldn’t we bring you here?” Eret responded as genuinely as he could. “You were lying exposed outside at night and you were injured. Despite everything I do care about you, Tommy, all of us do. We weren’t gonna let you lie out there all night like monster fodder.”

Tommy kept his eyes to the floor, silently absorbing what Eret told him with a frown on his face. “You should have.”

Eret was stunned.

George reappeared again with a small sewing kit and a torch, asking Eret with his eyes if everything was fine.

Eret shook his head.

George’s brow furrowed and he motioned his head towards the upstairs where Sapnap and Dream were supposedly sleeping, though George doubted either of them were while mouthing a simple, “get Dream” to Eret.

The man hesitated for a moment, not fond of the idea of leaving Tommy in this state but he left anyway, hurriedly making his way around the corner and up the stairs.

George watched him go with a frown before focusing his gaze onto Tommy who was still sitting still on the chest like a rag doll, eyes trained on the floor.

It was a heartbreaking sight.

“Hey, Tommy?” George tried to sound chirpy, as if his faux happiness could somehow infect Tommy. No such thing happened. Instead Tommy gave a dull hum to show that he had heard George.

“Can you hold the torch for me? I’m gonna stitch that cut up but I can’t see all too well.” Tommy didn’t respond but held his hand out when prompted to grasp the torch handle. The firelight flickered across his face, illuminating the angry red gash down his cheek and the shadows that were cast from his nose stood at weird angles from the broken feature. George sighed in pity before threading the needle and grasping Tommy’s shoulder. “Same thing you told me, bud. I’ll do it as fast as I can so it doesn’t hurt too much.”

George stayed silent as he worked, the only noise in the room being the small whimpers Tommy let slip every time the needle pierced his sensitive skin. When the cut was sewed shut, George eyed the broken nose warily as he took the torch back from Tommy before deciding not to break it into place just yet; the boy had gone through enough pain already.

“Tommy...” George began to speak but he dragged off basically as soon as he started, unsure if the question would cause the boy to lash out or break down again.

“Yeah?” Tommy was still quiet, his voice meek and shaky.

George pulled in a shaky breath, before manoeuvring his head to look Tommy in the eye. Tommy’s were large and watery and beyond emotional, with everything between fear and heartbreak swimming through them. He held George’s gaze warily, his fingers picking at his cuticles as his leg bounced against the chest with dull sequential thuds.

The boy was terrified.

“What happened to you, Tommy?” George’s voice was pleading and his eyes heartfelt as he took Tommy’s hand in his own to stop him from picking. The older man gave the limb a small squeeze as Tommy’s breath hitched, tears beginning to well up in his eyes again as he desperately tried to swallow his cries.

The boy's mouth fell open multiple times, every time ending in him clamping it shut with a miserable shake of his head as he chased after words, his whole body beginning to quiver.

“I-I can’t, George, he- he.” He choked up before he could finish, a sob wracking through him as he slumped forwards into George’s chest, yelping in pain as his nose collided with the other man.

“George? What the fuck is going on?” Sapnap’s voice carried through the base as three heavy pairs of footsteps rounded the corner to the chest room. Sapnap, Eret and Dream were all now standing in the doorway, Sapnap only wearing a loose pair of cotton trousers and a flimsy t-shirt whereas Dream hadn’t yet abandoned his usual garb of his obnoxious green hoodie and mask, though his cloak was nowhere to be seen.

“Eret said you just found him but did you find out anything else?” Dream cut to the chase instantly, his voice steady but monotone and with his face hidden fully behind the while smiley face no one really knew his stand on the situation.

George wet his lips, rubbing a small circle onto Tommy’s back before gently setting him upright and turning to his friends. “I tried to ask him but he just completely broke brown, the kid’s traumatised from whatever it was.”

Eret’s face fell into a deeper despair than before as he tugged on his hair in frustration while pulling the sunglasses from his face and setting them on a nearby chest. He glanced at Dream who was yet to even move.

“Tommy, can you look at me?” Though Dream presented it as question, Tommy doubted the man would just move on if he didn’t do it so after taking a shaky breath and wiping his nose with his sleeve he dragged his gaze up to meet the painted eyes of Dream’s mask.

Dream’s head cocked to the side in interest before he hummed and inspected George. “Those cuts seem too alike to be coincidental.”

George chewed on his lip, he had noticed that fact as well but he didn’t want to face that possibility; it seemed as if Dream was going to do it for him.

“Wait, hold up. You’re saying Soot did this to him?” Sapnap turned to Dream with a furrowed brow before darting his eyes between both parties, his mouth gaping slightly as the similarities danced before him.

“That’s what I’m asking.” Dream hummed, finally taking a step towards Tommy and crouching at his eye level.

Tommy avoided looking at the man entirely, the whole situation catching up to him again after his meltdown. He didn’t want to tell Dream about how shattered the relationships behind the walls were because then the SMP could strike when they were weak but as Tommy’s achy body forcefully reminded him of how Wilbur had thrown him into that cell with no hesitation, how the man had cut him and degraded him and how Tubbo had gave away the only thing with value in his life to keep him quiet he suddenly found that he didn’t care.

There was nothing left for him in L’Manburg because the only ones that seemed to care were Fundy, George and Eret, two of which were from the enemy side.

Tommy remembered that burning agony he had felt and how he wanted everyone else to feel it and he realised that this was his chance.

And so he told them everything.

Right from the very moment Wilbur had traded for his return he told them about the glares and how Wilbur had sent everyone away before interrogating him and throwing him down the stairs. He told them about his time in the cell with no food or water and how Tubbo had come down. He didn’t stop as he poured his heart out about Tubbo’s betrayal and how Wilbur used his outbreak as proof to cut him the same way he cut George because he was a traitor to L’Manburg.

The boy only trailed off as he told them about Fundy before they were caught up to where Eret and George had found him. Eret was trembling with anger by the end of Tommy’s story and the boy had genuinely never seen the man so seething with rage before. George looked heartbroken and even Sapnap seemed irritated with the knowledge and Dream, well, Tommy had no idea what the masked man took from his story.

“That absolute bastard.” Eret growled with his teeth clenched, his hands were curled into fists at his hips and he had the same malicious glint in his eyes as the day he betrayed L’Manburg. If I hadn’t already fucking disowned him I would be proclaiming it to the moon right now.”

Dream looked over his shoulder to study Eret for a moment before he stood up with a sigh. “Sapnap, I want you to take Tommy to my room, get him out of that uniform and take those ropes off while you’re at it and make sure all the windows are closed shut, yeah? Meet us back down here when you’re done I need to talk to George and Eret.”

Sapnap seemed confused about the request for a short moment before he shrugged and gave Dream a friendly shove. “Don’t have too much fun without me.”

Tommy bristled as all eyes turned towards him and he knew what he was expected to do, he just hoped he could do it without making a fool of himself. He wobbled to his feet and slowly followed Sapnap, his hairs standing on end and as he shakily maneuvered through the base as Sapnap motioned him towards the stairs. There was a small bit of fortune as Tommy noticed there weren’t that many stairs to climb to the next floor.

Thankfully Sapnap didn't rush him as Tommy essentially hugged the wall on his ascent and what shocked the boy more was how Sapnap appeared alert, with his arms slightly outstretched as if he was ready to catch him if he fell.

Dream’s room wasn’t what Tommy expected but then he didn’t really know what he was expecting in the first place. He imagined maybe just chests and chests of weapons and just an overall dark ambiance with crows cawing on the window ledge because Dream seemed to be that extra of a bad guy. In complete honesty Tommy was surprised to even see a bed in the room, he had always disregarded that there was a living, breathing human man under that mask and that man, though he never seemed to, needed to sleep.

The room was pretty bare otherwise, a crafting table was sat in the corner with a double chest perched next to it filled with God knows what. The carpet on the floor was soft and Tommy could feel his boots sinking into the material, he couldn’t wait to stand on it in his bare feet.

There were a few framed photos on the wall and Tommy noted sadly that there was an absence of any of the photos taken that had any residents of L’Manburg, all those incredible memories were just being left to catch dust because of this stupid war. A small square window was placed obnoxiously in the middle of one of the walls and the view from it depicted the entirety of the SMP, even the top of the walls of L’Manburg that were hidden slightly by the rolling hills.

It was an amazing view, a view fit for a king.

Sapnap hummed a tune to himself as he walked straight to the chest, heaving it open and rummaging around in its contents. Tommy caught sight of picture frames near the bottom of it and he could only guess what those photos were. A few moments later, as Sapnap continued to sing, he produced some loose trousers and one of Dream’s telltale green hoodies, both of which he tossed behind him at Tommy’s feet.

Following that Sapnap approached him with a smile, flicking a small knife out of his sleeve. Tommy’s breath caught in his throat as he raised his hands up in front of him, terrified of the weapon and what the man would do with it.

Instead Sapnap quickly severed the ropes on his wrists and put the knife away again, humming his way over to the window that he locked with practiced ease.

“Why are you locking them? I’m not gonna run away, I can hardly stand up right now.” Tommy mumbled as Sapnap messed with the lock a few times to ensure it was sturdy.

“Don’t worry about it, kid, you can leave whenever the hell you want once Dream works out what’s going on. These are being locked to keep other people out, not to keep you in, trust me we don’t care that much.” Sapnap laughed, scooping the clothes from the floor and dropping them into Tommy’s arms. “Now get changed and get some sleep. Someone will come up to check on you later.”

And then Tommy was alone again.

It took a few moments for him to gather himself before he peeled the heavy L’Manburg uniform off of his skin like a parasite. He felt lighter as the fabric fell to the floor, in a metaphorical sense as well as quite literally.

There was no bathroom in sight in Dream’s room and while the SMP had been more than welcoming so far, Tommy didn’t want to test his boundaries by wandering around their base like he lived there.

So Tommy, albeit annoyed, decided to deal with the blood and grime that clung to his chest and hands for a few more hours as he sheepishly recollected the clothes he was given from where he had set them on the bed and tugged them on. They were comfortable and warm and they smelt like Dream which launched the boy back to easier times when Dream would hug him after a particularly scary day in the Nether and the same scent would flood his senses as he buried his face in his friend’s chest.

Tommy sniffled as more tears built up behind his eyes.

He rubbed at his eyes with a huff as he tugged the hoodie’s sleeves over his hands before he shuffled towards the bed, it was decently large even though it was only for one person and the duvet looked thick and warm. The sheets were basic but then Dream was never one for interior designing so Tommy couldn’t be surprised. The pillows looked like they could swallow Tommy whole with how large and fluffed up they were and Tommy could hear himself groan at the thought of burrowing into the sheets as he sunk into those pillows.

They had told him to rest.

Tommy felt nothing but awkward as he carefully tugged back the duvet and clambered into its embrace but he tried to push the awful sensation into the back of his mind as he pulled the blanket up around his face and inhaled deeply.

The bed was in fact incredibly warm and Tommy relished in the comfort of it. The weight of the blanket almost managed to fill that yearning in his heart for comfort, closely mirroring the loving feeling of a warm hug from Wilbur.

And God did Tommy miss Will.

He never could have guessed that what had happened would have happened, that Wilbur would turn so cruel against him so quickly. He had always cherished every moment he had spent with the elder and he had always assumed that Wilbur cherished moments with Tommy just as much but Wilbur had become so paranoid and caught up in the politics that his family came second now.

Tommy clenched the duvet in his fist as he sniffed again, trying to hold back tears. the last thing he wanted to do would be to ruin Dream’s sheets.

But it was hard because the emotions that had finally caught up with him again felt like a weight crushing him, and not a comforting weight like the blanket because even the embrace of the blanket felt suffocating now, it felt like when Wilbur had pressed him against the cell wall and snarled at him, when Wilbur had held him against the wall and cut him open like a farm animal.

The wound on his face seemed to catch on fire and burn through his entire body as the tears finally started leaking from his eyes again as he pressed a hand to his mouth to muffle the sobs that were wracking through him again.

It hurt, everything hurt and Tommy just wanted it to stop.

“Hey, kid? You’re ok, let it out it’s alright no one’s gonna hurt you in here.” Dream’s gentle tone dampened the sound of his muffled crying and when the man began rubbing his back and stroking his hair in comfort Tommy cried harder.

It was exactly what he needed but he never expected Dream to be the one to provide it for him. Something in Tommy was expecting Tubbo to appear and pull him into an embrace or for Fundy to wrap him up in a hug with his tail tight around the boy’s waist as an anchor. Despite that Dream’s reassurance wasn’t unwelcome and Tommy found himself melting into Dream’s touch as his pained sobs died down to small sniffles again. Dream didn’t stop rubbing his back though to Tommy’s relief.

“You always liked being cuddled didn’t you, kid? You up for it or is this fine on its own?” Dream’s voice was soothing and calm in contrast to Tommy’s ragged breaths.

Tommy brought a hand to his mouth as he chewed on his thumb before he nodded his head, his hair getting ruffled against the fluffy pillow.

Dream’s hand stopped its caress and there were a few moments of nothingness before there two soft thumps followed by Dream maneuvering himself under the blankets to pull the younger into his arms.

Tommy lay rigid in his hold for longer than he would’ve liked, the situation all too similar to what had played out in the God-awful Final Control Room, but once Dream’s thumb began tracing patterns on Tommy’s clothed arm Tommy sagged into the embrace. The gentle touches and the platonic affection were something Tommy wouldn’t normally crave, they most certainly weren’t something Tommy would strive for as he was beyond caught up in his ‘grown up’ act but as he lay vulnerable, having lost everything that had meaning to him in this awful war stricken country he yearned for it and he felt himself grow softer and a lot more dependant on his old friend.

Dream didn’t pay any attention to him as Tommy snuggled closer into his chest and hummed into the pillow as Dream’s hand continued to massage his arm.

It was peaceful and as time went on Tommy felt his eyes droop before he fell asleep, in a semi content mindset while being coddled in the arms of what should be his enemy.

~

When Tommy found the strength to peel his eyes open a shiver wracked through his body despite the heavy blanket and the heat from the hoodie he was wearing. Dream was no longer with him and the room was cast in utter darkness, not a sound could be heard and Tommy had to take mind of his breathing as he felt his heart rate violently pick up from the panic.

His mind had instantly wandered to the possibility that Wilbur had found him and he was back in that cell or that Dream had decided that he wouldn’t help the enemy any longer and left him to die in the woods but Tommy could easily recognise the feeling of the bed he was laying on; never once in his time in the SMP or L’Manburg had he slept in a bed this comfortable except for Dream’s bed.

He was still safe… hopefully.

Tommy unwrapped himself from the blankets before shuffling out of the bed, his bare feet hitting the carpet with a muffled thud. As he expected his feet sunk into the abyss of the carpet and the boy happily wiggled his toes in the material before creeping towards the door. It opened easily, no locks or blockages stopping him as he peeked out into the dark hallway. There were a few torches along the walls, nothing drastic but more notably Tommy still couldn’t hear anyone. He had assumed that once he fell asleep Dream had left to speak with any combination of Sapnap, George and Eret but he could hear no conversation.

Tommy couldn’t rationalise why Dream would leave to sleep in another room so the boy chose to believe that the masked man and possibly the rest of the SMP had gone somewhere.

Tommy clumsily navigated the halls before descending the stairs, the layout of the base unfamiliar to him making walking around in the dim light more of a challenge than he originally anticipated. When he safely made it to the ground floor he briefly checked the rooms he had been in so far which was a small list consisting of the chest room and the kitchen near the entrance. When both rooms ended up unsuccessful he nervously flexed his fingers around the handle of the front door before gently pushing it open enough to peer through a small slit in the wood.

From there he could quickly see the lanky form of Dream with his quiver firmly strapped to his back with a simple bow hanging from his shoulder as he balanced against an axe. George and Sapnap stood on either side of him, each of them equally as armed with swords and bows. Eret stood slightly off to the side, his expression hidden behind his sunglasses as he tossed a deep purple potion up and down lazily from his palm; Tommy could recognise the rich colour from miles away having brewed many of his own, a harming potion.

The opposing side is what made Tommy bristle much to his dismay.

Wilbur stood proud in centre, his fiery expression clearly visible from Tommy’s hiding place as the older man clutched a glowing netherite sword harshly in his hand to the point that the boy could see Wilbur’s knuckles glowing white in the moonlight. Tubbo stood closely to his left, a crossbow cocked and ready though pointed at the ground. There was an uneasy expression on Tommy’s best friend’s face as Tubbo chewed violently on his bottom lip.

Fundy stood on Wilbur’s right, a neutral expression in his eyes. His ears stood tall and proud but his tail drooped between his legs sadly, the fur standing on end at every contact with the long tail of the L’Manburg uniform’s coat. There were bandages wrapped loosely around the fox’s left hand that hadn’t been there when Tommy had left and there was a netherite sword clutched similarly in his right hand.

The three were a sight.

Despite how confident Wilbur looked there were bags hanging heavy and dark under his eyes and his cheeks looked sunken. There was a strange emptiness hidden in the pits of the man’s eyes as well as a deep rooted anger. Wilbur was out for blood.

Tubbo looked like he hadn’t slept for months and would much rather be anywhere but the current confrontation and Fundy appeared dead on his feet.

L’Manburg was unstable when Tommy had ran those few hours ago but in that time the foundations seemed to have collapsed even further leaving nothing but a wobbly exoskeleton.

All it would take was a particularly strong gust of wind from Dream to send the revolution into rubble.

That upset Tommy, even if L’Manburg looked very much like hell for him at that moment.

The boy made quick work of tuning into the conversation that was playing out outside the base and it was only a few moments later that Tommy could feel himself repulse at how awful Wilbur’s tone sounded.

“Where is he, Dream. I don’t want anything from you, I’m just worried for my little brother, he’s hurt and he’s alone and I’d hate to think he stumbled across you while he’s so vulnerable.” Wilbur sounded far from concerned about his well being and the man would’ve sounded nicer if he had actually spat out the sentence at Dream’s feet.

Dream snorted in response, his figure bouncing in response. “You’re concerned for him? Where was the concern when you sliced his face open, Soot?” The masked man flexed his fingers around the axe handle, his head tilting to the side in question. Tommy could see George’s grip tighten on his sword at the mention of Tommy’s face wound.

Wilbur wet his lips before looking at Tubbo who froze under the attention before shaking himself off. “Give us our friend back, you already kidnapped him and we fairly traded for him back, you have no right to keep him from- from us again.”

Dream hummed in mock thought. “I’m not keeping anything from any of you though, I do hope your idiotic minds can understand that before I’m forced to use violence to get you to piss off. Don’t forget that we’re still at war, I have every right to do what I want.”

Wilbur wasn’t swayed by this. “I don’t really give a shit right now, Dream. How else would you know about his face if you haven’t seen him?” The man bared his teeth like an animal as he pointed his sword at Dream’s chest.

“And so what if I’ve seen him? Doesn’t mean I’m harbouring him does it?” Dream bit back. Tommy couldn't see his face regardless but he saw the man lean towards Wilbur, lifting his axe to move Will’s blade away from his body.

“Frankly, even if we did have him, forcefully or not, we wouldn’t hand him over. Whether that be for advantage or from the fact you clearly abused the kid, Wilbur.” George jumped in, swinging his sword around his wrist before tightening his hold and gritting his teeth. “Now please, leave.”

Tommy saw Tubbo draw in a breath before looking towards Wilbur who didn’t spare the smaller boy a glance. Fundy nervously tightened his grip on his weapon while giving Tubbo a tight-lipped smile.

Wilbur sent a poisonous glare in George’s direction. “Nice to see your face is healing up, George.” He sneered.

Eret took a step forward. “No thanks to you, you bastard.”

Wilbur’s head snapped to the side to scrutinise Eret who stood, shoulders back with a tight grip on his potion, prepared to throw it at Wilbur’s chest the second he felt compromised.

“I don’t recall asking you anything, Eret, you traitorous piece of shit. It’s your fault isn’t it, you got in Tommy’s head, you led him here like a lamb to slaughter. You made me do it!” Wilbur yelled progressively louder, taking a few fury filled strides towards Eret who stood his ground with little to no fear in his posture.

Tommy felt himself shrink in his hiding place. Never in his life had he imagined Wilbur could be so… threatening. The man had gone from his closest friend, a trusted ally and someone he could share anything with to a borderline abusive, manipulative prick who hardly resembled his friend at all. There was an anger bubbling underneath Tommy’s skin as Wilbur blamed Eret for his injuries because Tommy knew it was a lie.

Wilbur didn’t trust him, Wilbur lashed out.

Wilbur wasn’t provoked to hurt his closest friend, his little brother, and yet he did.

Dream quickly stepped in, holding his axe in Wilbur’s path to stop his march. “I’m gonna ask you one more time, Wilbur. Get the fuck out of here before I do something I regret.”

“I’m not going anywhere till you give me Tommy.” Wilbur spat in Dream’s face and before anyone could blink Wilbur’s arm was reared back in a punch that Dream had no time to block.

There was a loud resounding crack as Wilbur’s fist met Dream’s mask and Tommy could only watch, utterly star struck, as the pieces of white porcelain that had always covered Dream’s face fell to the floor.

The eyes of the now shattered smiley face stared into Tommy’s soul, even from a distance.

There was a moment of nothingness as Dream, whose back was still to Tommy, stared in awe at his shattered mask as Wilbur rubbed his aching and bleeding fist.

A few drops of blood fell and splattered against the porcelain like water drops, the red bleeding across the surface like a river. Dream brought a gloved hand to his face, the fingers coming away red. So that’s where the blood came from.

“You motherfu-“ Tommy couldn’t discern who the curse came from before Wilbur interrupted with a threat.

“Give me the kid or I’ll do a whole lot worse than breaking your fucking mask.” The man snarled.

Tommy saw red, as he pinched his eyes in frustration. This was because of him, his friends were being hurt all because of him. Tubbo looked traumatised, he could only imagine how many broken fingers Fundy had underneath those bandages, George was still recovering from L’Manburg’s brutality and now Dream was facing the backlash of how much of a coward Tommy was.

Tommy couldn’t take it anymore.

Before he could overthink his decision, Tommy threw the door open and marched into the middle of the mayhem.

He ignored the stares of the people around him, deciding to zero in on Wilbur, taking extra care to avoid Dream’s face entirely; Tommy wasn’t ready to actually look into Dream’s eyes yet.

There was a sickening grin slowly seeping along Wilbur’s lips as Tommy stared him down from a distance. “Leave, Will. I’m not going with you, I’m not going back, I’m done with this so-called war for independence because we both know it’s not real. This is a war for your benefit and your benefit alone. We were happy, Wilbur, we were happy until you tried to take more for yourself and I’m finished with defending you. Now fucking leave.” The breath was gone from Tommy’s lungs after his rant and the boy could only catch his breath while wetting his lips as Wilbur studied him.

“So I was right then, I had every right to do it. I knew I wasn’t losing it! You are working with them!’ Wilbur sounded crazed. Every word that spewed from his mouth was laced with malice and insanity.

Tommy’s friend was gone.

“No. I wasn’t working with them, Will. I would have rather clawed my own face open than betray you and talk.” There was bitterness dripping from every word Tommy spoke and the unspoken metaphor hung heavy in the air. “But they were my friends before anything, and I have nowhere else to go. I’m not playing war games anymore, Wilbur. I want my family back.”

Tommy looked to Tubbo who smiled sadly at him, apologies shining behind his eyes and Tommy knew deep down that he would forgive his friend. He looked to Fundy whose eyes were shining with pride but yet the fox still hung back by Wilbur’s side. And he looked to Wilbur who looked murderous, his weapon ready to swing at Tommy and yet the man pulled back. “I’m not done with you Tommy Innit. I’m not done with any of you.”

Wilbur disappeared into the darkness.

Chapter Text

PART 4 (15228)

“I don't know what you had in mind, but here we stand on opposing sides. Let's go to war, let's go to war.”

Whatever Tommy had imagined Dream would look like, it wasn’t this.

To be perfectly honest Tommy hadn’t devoted much time to picturing the masked man maskless because even the idea of it was scandalous.

Dream wasn’t Dream without the mask.

Dream with no mask was like a fish with no water or a fire with no logs, it just wasn't plausible and yet the man sat before him now, not a smiley face in sight.

Once Wilbur had drawn back, Tubbo and Fundy had sheepishly trailed after him like dogs on a lead and neither Tommy nor the SMP missed the pleading looks on both of their faces as they vanished into the trees towards L’Manburg.

As soon as Eret deemed it safe he had rushed towards Tommy, pulling the younger into a suffocating hug while half-heartedly scolding him for how stupid he had been to rush out into the middle of the confrontation, “in your bare feet and everything” Eret rambled before quieting down into a relieved smile. “You’re lucky nothing too horrific happened, Tommy. You’ve been through enough these last few days, you dont deserve more crap.”

Tommy nodded at his words, half in a daze as his gaze drifted towards the hunched figures of Sapnap and Dream, who had pulled the hood of his cloak over his head so his face was still partially hidden. The two were sifting through the grass to pick up the scattered shards of porcelain and the whole image was nothing but sombre.

Suddenly George was next to Eret and the man placed a firm yet comforting hand onto Tommy’s shoulder with promises of a hot drink and blanket inside the base as he began to guide the boy back to the door.

It was only then did Tommy really take notice of how cold he was with red feet and chattering teeth.

He willingly let himself be steered inside and seated on a plush seat that the boy all but sank into as his form shook from shock and the weather. There was some clutter that sounded through the base as Eret and George searched through chests and pottered around the kitchen as they concocted food and drinks for the small band of people in the base.

Tommy played with his fingers as he gnawed on his bottom lip while staring at his lap. The night’s events and the fatigue were finally catching up with him and Tommy was torn between wanting to go back to sleep and sobbing his heart out for the second time that day.

The latter looked promising.

George was at his side again about five minutes later, wrapping a blanket around Tommy’s shaking shoulders while placing a steaming mug between the boys hands with a small smile. “Drink it now, Tommy. It’ll warm you up, ok?”

Tommy hummed quietly, bringing the mug to his lips in silence and sipping the beverage that he could now recognise as hot chocolate.

The last time he had hot chocolate was after he fell into the water in an ice biome while looking for polar bears with Tubbo; that was a long time ago.

George planted himself in a nearby chair, supporting his head on his palm as a stray finger traced the healing gash on his face, Eret emerged from the kitchen moments later with a few plain slices of bread in his hand that he slowly ate as he sat in another free seat.

The base was submerged in silence.

Tommy let his mind shut down as he slowly worked his way down the mug, the heat from the drink seeping through him like a comforting hold and he released a deep sigh he’d been holding in his chest.

The itching feeling Wilbur’s glare had left dancing on his skin was slowly dissipating as he sipped his chocolate drink and Tommy felt like he could finally catch his breath after spilling his thoughts in front of everyone.

Until the door opened again and Sapnap entered, a cloaked Dream tailing him with his head bowed.

It felt wrong to see Dream look so vulnerable. Normally the man would command any room he stood in, with his head held high and his shoulders rolled back with cockiness and confidence oozing from his pores, but now he looked like an average young man who hadn’t grown into his skin yet.

He looked like a normal twenty year old man.

And it was pitiable.

“Do you want me to throw something together for you to cover up?” George asked softly and Tommy could see the faint motions of Dream shaking his head in decline.

Tommy almost held his breath as Dream crossed the room and sat in one of the other vacant seats in the room, his head still bowed to shroud his face.

His hair hung over his face freely now, not constrained behind the porcelain, the dirty blond mop was ruffled and curly and it hugged Dream’s forehead, matting with some of the blood that had caked on and around his face.

Tommy tried not to stare, he was positive Dream was beyond uncomfortable right now, much more uncomfortable than Tommy who had nerves from the single fact he doesn’t know what the man looked like, and Tommy didn’t want to worsen the anxiety for him especially after everything Dream had done for him in the last few hours.

But despite Tommy’s determination to avoid Dream’s face the man raised his head anyway to look Tommy straight in the eye.

Tommy froze like a deer in headlights as his eyes wandered against his will across the man’s features, taking every tiny thing in.

The thinness of his face, the bags under his eyes, the green of his irises, the freckles and acne dotted along his cheeks and nose, the old trenches of scars sunken into where his dimples showed when Dream gave Tommy a tight-lipped smile.

And the still bleeding gash that travelled across his nose and over his cheek.

He looked so ordinary, attractive even, and Tommy was struggling to link the lanky, blond haired, green eyed man in front of him to the powerful, headstrong, masked warrior he was acquainted with.

Because this tired stranger seated in front of him was one of his friends, a friend he had known for many years and Tommy couldn’t comprehend that Dream had no mask on, that this was the man that sat behind the mask day in and day out.

This was the man who had declared war on L’Manburg, who had pounced from a hidden corridor to kidnap Tommy with a knife to the boy’s throat. This was the man who had questioned him about his relationship with Wilbur and where loyalties lay between them. This was the man he had fought for his discs against and the same man that had wished him luck as he was whisked away by Wilbur back to L’Manburg.

This was the man that had hugged him as he cried and cuddled with him as he slept because Dream knew that that comforted him.

And this man was Dream.

“First time?” George laughed quietly from his own seat as he watched Tommy (quite rudely) inspect Dream’s bare face and even Dream chuckled a little at the observation under his breath.

And that laugh was so undeniably Dream’s laugh.

“I’m uh- I’m sorry for staring I just,” Tommy couldn’t defend himself and Dream laughed again, his shoulders finally dropping slightly as the tension eased from his body. “I didn’t think you’d ever show me of all people.” The boy finally mumbled.

Dream gave him a grin, a grin that Tommy couldn’t even imagine how often it had spread across the man’s face behind his constant smiley face.

“I didn’t think I ever would either if you want me to be honest, kid” It was jarring hearing such a familiar voice come from such an unfamiliar face. “I haven’t shown anyone except for George and Sap.”

Tommy didn’t mean for it to be so obvious when he glanced at Eret who was still in the room amidst the conversation.

Dream followed his gaze and smiled at Eret. “He saw by accident.”

Eret laughed, shrugging his shoulders with a proclamation of, “oops”.

The words didn't come.

There was an awkward silence cast around the room, filled only by the wet chewing sounds of Eret slowly working his way through his bread until Sapnap broke the silence with his usual loud and boisterous entrance as he threw down all the discarded weapons onto the floor.

“Seriously? I feel like your mothers half the time, who leaves swords at the front door? Honestly!”

Smiles and laughs broke out around the room and suddenly everything ran like clockwork. It felt like old times, with easy banter and lots of teasing that no one truly took seriously but would play wounded as if their life depended on it.

Tommy didn’t contribute much but he felt included, he felt wanted and he felt like he was home again.

The last time Tommy had felt this warmth was at the campfire in L’Manburg and the boy hadn’t realised how addicting the feeling was until he was blessed enough to indulge in it again. He craved to feel it forever, seeing his friends smile, even if seeing Dream actually smiling and laughing felt like a fever induced hallucination.

And Tommy realised that he had missed his friends, his old friends, and that L’Manburg, while his family was there, it no longer felt like home.

Tommy wanted to stay with the SMP.

With that realisation Tommy shook his head and continued to partake in the fun, feeling like a kid again.

~

Tommy woke up in Dream’s bed for the second time that day, at least he hoped it was the same day as the idea of losing an entire day to sleep sent a shiver through Tommy’s body. He didn’t want to think he was that poorly that his body had forcefully put him in a coma.

He groggily pushed himself into a seated position, rubbing tiredly at his eyes while consciously avoiding the sensitive area around his wound. As he attempted to shake the sleep from his brain he was struck with how large the bed actually was, spreading his arms out across the mattress to try and touch both ends only to fail miserably.

He had noted that the bed was quite big when he had first seen the room but the object seemed to have grown within that timespan; that or Tommy hadn’t realised the extent of its size while being curled up in a ball in one corner of it for 90% of the time.

“I know it’s huge isn’t it.”

Dream’s sudden voice caused him to jump.

He scanned the room finding Dream sitting on the floor with his back supported by the crafting table. He had a leg bent to stretch the other across the carpet as he whittled a piece of wood with a small knife into an arrow-head. Similarly to the previous night he still had no mask which was still strange to Tommy but seeing his features and his lips move as he spoke was becoming slightly less terrifying to the boy.

“You mean the bed?” Tommy’s voice was scratchy and tired.

Dream hummed, focusing on the piece of wood again, his wrists moving in fluid motions as he dragged the knife through the wood. “I had to go hunting for materials to make it bigger actually. Once upon a time it was just a single bed for me, myself and I.”

Tommy hummed in question. “Why did you need a bigger one? I’m confused.”

Dream laughed but it sounded empty. “It took days to find the wool for it but it was needed. When we got George back he couldn’t sleep for days so he moved into my room for a while. He needed someone with him to keep the nightmares away every night.” Dream’s motions came to a halt momentarily as he recalled George’s trauma before his gaze drifted to Tommy.

His green eyes studied Tommy for half of a second, the stern, hardened look behind his eyes softening as the realisation struck him.

So Tommy wasn’t the only one who had noticed the connection.

There were a few moments of silence as Dream awkwardly returned to making his arrow-heads.

Tommy deflated with a sigh, burrowing his chin between his knees as he took to staring out of the single window in Dream’s room. The sun was pouring in through the glass, illuminating the room and causing light to bounce off the picture frames.

It had been a while since the last time Tommy had fully been able to just sit and watch the sun.

But it didn't feel right and Tommy hated that he felt guilty.

Because he was sitting in the enemy’s base, wrapped up in the blankets of Dream’s bed as L’Manburg fell apart.

Tubbo and Fundy were in danger, most likely injured and Wilbur was at breaking point. Tommy had lost his home and his family and while he had reunited with old friends he felt like a traitor for doing so.

What did he think he was doing watching the sun?

It was Dream who noticed the tears falling.

“Hey, hey? What’s wrong, kid?”

Tommy only heard the fumbling as Dream placed his arrow-head and knife on top of the crafting table before clambering to his feet and making his way carefully to Tommy who was silently crying into his knees.

Tommy froze momentarily as he took notice of the tears splashing against his trousers before he broke down entirely, leaning into Dream who had positioned himself on the end of the bed, pulling Tommy into a comforting side hug.

The sorrow washed over Tommy like waves, leaving him shaking and cold with heartbreak and Dream just held him, keeping him warm and filling him with hope that maybe, just maybe, Tommy was worthy of love, that he was allowed to feel safe.

But it felt superficial and that's why the tears just wouldn’t stop flowing.

“Just let it out, kid. I can't imagine being in your shoes for even a moment, you've been through some shit this week, Tommy. You deserve to cry if anything.” Dream muttered into his hair. “Talk to me, kid. You’ve been so quiet and yet so open but I don’t know what you’re thinking. Please, tell me how you’re feeling.”

Tommy sniffled into Dream’s chest before pulling back slightly into a position that Dream was still holding him but Tommy was facing away from him.

“I’m scared for them, Dream.” His voice was soft and croaky from the crying but the boy tried to hold himself together. “I’m scared for them and I’m afraid it’s my fault.”

Dream rubbed his thumb along Tommy’s arm. “Scared for who, Tommy? Please talk to me.”

Tommy inhaled shakily. “Tubbo and Fundy,” he hesitated, “and Will.”

Dream didn’t respond, prompting Tommy to continue now that he had started to open up.

“I don’t know how far gone Wilbur is and I- I don’t know if Tubbo and Fundy are ok. Fundy had bandages and- and Tubbo didn’t look like Tubbo anymore and-“

“Hey, Tommy it’s ok, don’t worry we’re gonna help them, ok?” Dream hummed.

“No, you’re-you’re gonna help Fundy and Tubbo. You won’t help Wilbur.” Tommy accused.

Dream stopped for a moment, mulling over the words that Tommy just spoke. “Tommy I know it’s hard and that he’s been your friend for God knows how long but I need you to understand, Tubbo and Fundy need you to understand, everyone, Tommy, everyone needs you to understand that Wilbur isn’t your friend anymore.” Tommy was still in Dream’s hold. “Wilbur is the bad guy now, kid.”

Tommy inhaled, his body trembling as Dream’s words sank in, burrowing under his skin and causing an awful itchy sensation to burn across his body. “He’s the bad guy and it’s my fault.” He whispered.

Dream tutted, shifting their position to hold Tommy’s face as he stared into the boy’s cloudy blue eyes. Tommy seemed nervous holding his stare due to his face being exposed but Dream tried to bury his anxiety as he ensured he had the entirety of Tommy’s attention. “None of this was your fault, Tommy. If anything I’m to blame for what happened to Will.”

Tommy’s bottom lip wobbled as Dream tried to whole-heartedly show his sincerity through his eyes.

“I had Eret betray you, I kidnapped you. I sent you back to Wilbur when I knew I had purposefully stirred shit up to try to win the war. I knew Wilbur would be suspicious of you not being hurt but I was never gonna hurt you Tommy, and what? I thought saying good luck would make it better?” It was clear that Dream felt beyond responsible for everything and Tommy’s head began to clear as he shook his head.

“No Dream I-“ Tommy chased frantically after his words. “We were at war, Dream. We kidnapped one of yours, so you kidnapped me. You don’t need to feel bad for fighting your side. But Wilbur…” Tommy wet his lips as he looked down in despair. “I guess Wilbur is just too far gone now. He’s done bad things, worse things than what he ever would have done and I don’t know how to say goodbye to my friend because… well because my friend is dead isn’t he.”

There was silence as the two of them stared at each other before Dream gave him a heartfelt smile that Tommy returned before they broke apart, Tommy clumsily shuffling out of the blankets as Dream easily manoeuvred off the bed to grab his knife from the crafting table before motioning for Tommy to follow him as he left the room.

Tommy quickly stretched before shuffling his feet out of the room to sheepishly follow Dream down the stairs into the main meeting room of the base where Sapnap and George were sprawled out on a sofa, George still half asleep with his legs propped up on Sapnap’s lap and Tommy could hear Eret humming under his breath in the chest room.

Sapnap gave a half-assed wave as Dream threw himself face first into a chair with a tired groan and George groggily chuckled under his breath at the action. Eret’s head popped into the room from behind a wall and he flashed a quick grin to Tommy, who had now awkwardly sat himself in one of the free chairs, before looking towards the slumped figure of Dream with a lost expression.

“So uh- what’s the plan for today exactly?”

Dream hummed into the material of the chair before flipping himself around to locate the source of the question. Eret gave him an amused wave. Dream let out a huff, seating himself on the chair properly while tugging a hand through his hair as he thought.

“I think our best bet for today is to get ourselves together. Take time for yourself before the war picks up again because we’re fighting for a different cause now and it won’t be easy.” Dream’s eyes were solemn and Sapnap gave an understanding nod.

“Do you want help with your mask, then? I know you don't like going out without it.” Sapnap asked, tilting his head in question.

Dream wet his lips before nodding slowly and picking himself up from the seat into a standing position. He glanced back at Tommy, his eyes filled with concern. “Take care of yourself, kid. Life won’t get any easier after today and I don’t want you getting anymore hurt than you need to.”

Tommy smiled in understanding as Dream slipped from the room closely tailed by Sapnap who had left a whining and sleepy George with no foot cushion. “Tommy move your ass onto this sofa, I’m cold and need a cuddle buddy right now and Eret is awful at it.” George’s voice was stern and serious and yet the sleep that caused his eyes to droop and his words to slur slightly made Tommy giggle in fondness as George attempted to glare at him.

“I’m not that bad of a cuddle buddy.” Eret tried to defend himself.

George didn't look impressed. “You move enough in your sleep to do an entire dance routine and for your grand finale you hurled me out of the bed.” He deadpanned, looking back to Tommy with a pout. “Tommy, please.”

Tommy shifted seats while complaining but secretly he knew that he was in the mood for cuddles as he still felt tired and he wasn’t exactly a fan of going to sleep by himself at that moment in fear of something happening.

George pulled him into a bone-crushing hug within moments and Tommy gasped at the hold before relaxing into the body heat and drifting off into sleep once more with Eret’s promise to wake them when he had made a dinner sounding in the background.

~

If Tommy of six months ago could see just how much sleeping Tommy of the present did on the daily he would have been violently sick. Before recent events it would be rare to see Tommy rest for more than 6 hours at a time and any more than 4 days a week.

Now sleeping was the only thing Tommy could do to escape the crippling reality he lived in.

He had awoken from his cuddle session with George feeling like his head had been stuffed with cotton but he quickly came to his senses as the smell of chicken flooded his nostrils along with the uncontrollable giggles spilling from Sapnap’s mouth as Tommy stumbled to his feet like a newborn giraffe.

Those giggles turned to full blown laughter as George groaned from the lack of heat before rolling off the sofa with a thud onto the floor.

Tommy couldn’t help but snort as well as George’s head shot up from the collision, his eyes narrowing in accusation at the sofa.

“What the hell was that noise?” Dream’s head appeared from the kitchen like a jack-in-the-box, a newly crafted and painted mask perched on top of his hair like a bird. His eyes darted the room, landing on George and he choked on a laugh before he could stop himself causing George to burn holes through him with a stare before the man collected himself from the floor and marched like a man on a mission to the kitchen.

Tommy and Sapnap only heard a high-pitched shriek that surprisingly came from Dream before the blond man darted from the kitchen with George hot on his heels, a wooden shovel clutched tightly in his hand.

God knows where he got the tool from.

Tommy sighed in content with how domestic and innocent the scene was before making his way to the kitchen where Eret was pulling the last of the cooked chickens and potatoes from the furnaces.

It smelt like heaven.

Nothing much except for pleasant small talk was exchanged as Eret split the generous portions between everyone, Sapnap cracking a few jokes every now and then as the three took their place around the table while waiting on George and Dream who returned eventually with George looking very pleased with himself and Dream looking like he’d been through hell and back.

Tommy tried to burn his utter shock at the size of his meal and he noticed Eret giving him a mischievous wink from across the table; Eret knew how small the portion sizes always were in L’Manburg as they never went hunting often and had to ration their supplies. No one was ever starved but no one ever left dinner feeling full either.

Tommy felt like he had eaten enough for a week when dinner was finally over.

For the next few hours Tommy surprised himself by reading a book with the shouts and yells of Eret and George who were sparring as background music. Dream was lazily sprawled across the sofa, continuing his task from that morning of whittling down more wood blocks into arrowheads, presumably to dip into different substances as the wood itself wouldn’t do an awful lot of damage.

Sapnap was nowhere to be found but Tommy could only assume he was asleep since he had almost face planted into his meal not that long ago. It was amusing to watch Dream tell him off like a scolded child though, especially after Sapnap’s comment of being the mother of the group the night before.

Tommy was deeply engrossed in his book that depicted the beasts and legends of the over world and the Nether and the boy managed to shock himself with how he was actually learning more about the world he had occupied for so long.

He had always lived with the mindset of just killing the mobs around him and harvesting them for their materials but seeing where they originated from and even how the Nether was theorised to exist was fascinating.

“You learned anything from that, kid?” Dream hummed, still focused on his carving. “Or don’t tell me you’re afraid to actually move to find something you will enjoy.”

Tommy jumped at the sudden question before shaking his head. “No, it’s actually really interesting. I didn’t know a lot of this stuff.”

Dream raised an eyebrow. “You didn't know what a Wither skeleton was?” His tone was sarcastic but clearly teasing.

Tommy childishly stuck his tongue out at the older man. “Fuck you.” Dream grinned in response. “I knew what a Wither skeleton was but according to legends when a person dies in the over world, if they spent their life doing cruel things they are reborn as a Wither skeleton to suffer in the Nether as punishment. That’s why their bones are black apparently, blackened with sin”

Dream snorted. “So what? The Nether is literally hell?”

Tommy nodded. “Pretty much yeah. Zombies are reborn as pigmen when we kill them in the overworld, creepers become ghasts and skeletons become blazes.”

Dream hummed, surprisingly invested, either from the book or from seeing Tommy finally being passionate about something again. “Explain the bed thing then.”

Tommy knew what the man was referring to. It was common knowledge that setting any kind of bed or sleeping bag or mat onto Nether soil would end with devastating consequences so carrying sleeping materials with you on Nether journeys was always a death wish.

The boy skimmed quickly down the page he was on before stopping, pointing at the page with his finger. “People say that as the Nether is home to the sinners and the wicked there is no purpose for beds as resting goes against their punishment. The nether rack is apparently sentient enough to dispose of anything that might lessen the punishment for the inhabitants which is why they explode.”

Dream’s mouth hung open as he comprehended the legend. “That’s actually really cool.”

Tommy smiled proudly at him before returning to his book as Dream returned to his arrows, a fond smile on his lips.

~

“Ok so we have enough netherite to craft two people a full set of armour, an axe and a sword or two?” Dream ran a finger down their inventory list.

“Yeah, I was planning to go back to the Nether today to even stock up enough for an extra chest plate.” Eret offered, running the numbers through his head on his much excess they had.

Dream declined. “Don’t bother, we can make up for it in projectiles. Sap you have the gunpowder yeah?” Sapnap nodded. “Perfect, we can make small explosives for the wooden arrows and fire those at length.”

Tommy sat quietly at the table as the other four exchanged battle strategies and numbers feeling incredibly guilty. The four members of the SMP had all agreed that Tommy was to have nothing to do with the fighting and had excluded Tommy from said conversation so that he couldn’t even defend himself.

Though that didn't stop him from joining their pre-war meetings.

“We want as little injury as possible on their side, we want to pull Fundy and Tubbo out unharmed, yeah?” George put forward, countering Dream’s suggestion. “If we go in with explosives then we can’t control the damage.”

Dream gnawed on his lip in contemplation.

“If we don’t hit them early on with projectiles though then Wilbur will just completely swarm us, they have the majority of the netherite and potions, we’ll be disadvantaged at close range.” Eret argued.

Sapnap slammed his head on the table in frustration. “There’s no way to have the upper hand on them unless we fire from a distance with harming pots and explosives or walk them into a trap but they won’t go anywhere on our terms, Wilbur won’t fall for that twice after Eret.” He mumbled against the wood.

Tommy inwardly huffed at Sapnap’s words because even though he didn’t want to admit it he knew the man was right in what he had said. There was no way Wilbur would just follow along with terms set by the SMP, he had all the upper hands and he would take advantage of it.

The chatter of discussion faded into the background as Tommy zoned out entirely, his mind running in laps as he chased after some kind of conclusion to this war, some plan that wouldn’t end in death or despair.

But he came up with nothing.

Until it hit him.

“Guys what if we set terms without them realising that we have set the terms?”

Four heads turned to Tommy as the boy mulled over his impromptu in his head before he met their eyes with a grin. “We make them think they have the upper hand so that they come to a certain place thinking they’re gonna ambush you but you turn it on them!”

Sapnap’s eyes widened as he rose from the table before excitedly slamming his hand into the wood. “Shut up that could actually work.”

Dream brought his clasped hands to his mouth as he ran through the idea in his head before humming with a small smile on his face. “Yeah, I think it actually could if we play our cards right.”

George gave Tommy a large grin, ruffling his hair before the rest of the group continued to brainstorm as Tommy sat content with himself; he had done something helpful.

The boy didn't pay much more attention to the conversation at hand after that, high off his bliss of finally doing something beneficial for his friends after everything they had done for him in the past few days.

The conversation lasted for several hours, with every minute ticking by the SMP grew more restless, still having no ideas on how to successfully switch an ambush onto Wilbur and also how to even alert him on where and when to go.

“I can think of one solution and I know not a single one of you will like it.” Sapnap put forward, dragging some of the stray hairs that had escaped his headband off of his face.

George shrugged at that. They had gone over so many botched ideas that any suggestion was a possibility.

“We use Tommy.”

“Absolutely not, no. Fuck that and move on.” Dream huffed, waving his hands in Sapnap’s direction to further brush off the man’s words.

Tommy looked up from his book that he had recollected at the sound of his name and cocked his head in confusion as Dream consistently murmured, ‘nope’ under his breath as Eret lightly banged his head against the table.

George glanced over at him briefly before sliding a hand under Eret’s forehead to soften the thuds. “Dream, I hate it as much as you do but I think it might be the only answer here. He won’t need to fight if we do it right.” George tried to sell the idea. “We send him over to, let’s say Tubbo, and he tells them he’s sorry for leaving and for talking or whatever and gives the kid info about our supposed trip for supplies to the Nether. L’Manburg comes in, we’re ready for them and boom we win?”

Sapnap nodded along to George’s words before looking across the room to Tommy who was nervously following the plan. Dream’s gaze travelled to him followed by George and Eret until all the attention of the room was centred on him and Tommy nearly shit himself.

“Tommy if you don’t want to do this I will happily kick all their asses and we will work out something else.” Dream’s eyes were sincere, the green irises shining with concern as Tommy thought the idea over a little more, chewing on his lip as he did so. “But if you decide you want to do this we will do everything we can to make sure you don’t need to fight them, ok.”

Tommy mulled it over before releasing a breath he had been holding. He nodded his head and Dream gave him a nervous smile before motioning him to come over to the table again. Sapnap sent him a large grin and George looked scared yet proud for his decision.

Eret seemed uneasy.

The conversation picked up speed again in the blink of an eye, locations and times and numbers flying through Tommy’s head faster than he could comprehend them. The discussion was a mess and was clearly heading straight for a wall so after fool-proofing his own suggestion he nervously cleared his throat.

“Lead them to the Nether. If you’re gathering supplies it would be a slim chance that you're not heading there because that’s where the netherite is as well as potion supplies.” The SMP nodded along with his thought process. “In there, if you are able to corner them they have no choice but to surrender because death is too easy down there to try and be ballsy about an escape.”

George hummed as he considered it. “Yeah, but they’re following us in and I can’t imagine Wilbur being dumb enough for us to lead him in a circle to push them off a cliff.”

Dream gnawed on a fingernail. “I hate this, I hate this, I hate this.” He groaned into his hands before making direct eye contact with Tommy that caused the boy to squirm. “That book of yours, Tommy. The thing with the beds.”

Tommy’s mouth fell open in understanding.

The rest of the group seemed lost.

Tommy wet his lips before taking it upon himself to explain.

No one was fond of the idea but in the end no one had a substitute.

They had no choice but to work with the crumbs they had gathered to formulate the most convoluted plan the SMP had used in the war to date, but they were cornered.

Either this plan worked or they failed, it was as simple as that.

Victory or death.

~

The night was cold and Tommy shuddered as he burrowed himself further into Dream’s hoodie that was draped over him like a blanket. He was close to drowning in the fabric but it brought him immeasurable comfort and warmth so he wouldn’t trade it for anything.

At the hands of a miracle, Tommy had successfully managed to sneak into the walls of L’Manburg, a place so familiar yet so strange to him. The nation was quiet, not even disturbed by the rustle of a tree as Tommy crouched his way through the tall grass towards the small house Tubbo had built for himself with Tommy’s help some months ago.

There were no lights coming from the building, every torch was extinguished, and Tommy prayed to whatever Gods he could think of that Tubbo was actually in there or the entire plan would come crumbling down.

It was nerve wrecking standing within the walls again, danger was breathing down his neck as he snuck his way closer to the building and Tommy was an inch away from backing out of the plan entirely and taking Dream up on his offer to think of something new.

But something inside of Tommy knew he couldn’t do that, not to Dream, not to George, not to Eret or Sapnap, he owed them this much.

He owed it to himself as well.

With as much courage as he could muster he rapped his knuckles against the wood of the door, inhaling and exhaling deeply as he hoped that no one was there except for Tubbo.

Even the idea of the door opening to reveal Wilbur sent shivers shooting through the boy’s spine.
There was movement from behind the door, someone was moving around the house with low grumbles and Tommy held his breath in anticipation as the footsteps made their way towards the door he was standing in front of before the wood creaked open.

Tubbo’s tired eyes stared at him tiredly before registering what they were seeing and a horrifying mixture of shock and terror suddenly washed over Tubbo’s face.

“Tommy?” Tubbo’s voice was hushed and confused, the words coming out in such a way that Tommy didn’t know how to respond to them in any other way apart from a small wave.

“Hey, Tubbo. Uh- do you mind if I come in?”

The older boy grabbed Tommy’s forearm in a tight grip, scanning the area around them before tugging the blond boy into the house, hurriedly closing the door and checking that all the windows were covered.

Tommy stood like a sore thumb in the middle of the central room, the furniture being so painstakingly familiar to him as he awkwardly scanned his surroundings as Tubbo bumbled around the house.

He spotted picture frames hanging on the wall and in a similar manner to Dream’s bedroom there wasn’t a single photo in sight that contained Dream, George or Sapnap. Some of the pictures had obviously been folded or cut, and in some cases messily scribbled over in order to, Tommy could only guess, remove Eret.

Some of the picture frames were lying idle on a nearby table, the picture frames that contained him. There were scissors sat next to them and yet the photos were still untouched, Tommy’s face still intact in the memories; for now anyway.

Tommy felt his heart swell at the thought that maybe, maybe Tubbo still cared for him deep down.

“When I say you better have a good reason for showing up here I mean it.” Tubbo said harshly, his eyes wide and uncertain. The bags under them seemed to have darkened in the small amount of time since Tommy last saw him. They were nearly big enough to engulf the entirety of his left eye now.

“I need to tell you something, something important and I didn’t know who else would hear me out.” Tommy pleaded, his own eyes sorrowful.

Tubbo studied him for a moment before nodding his head for Tommy to continue.

“Dream- the SMP, they’re gonna murder you all, Tubbo. I heard them talking about their plans and they’re going to the Nether to get supplies before they storm L’Manburg and kill you all.” Tommy stopped for a moment after his tangent. “I know you don’t trust me, Tubbo but please, I can’t let you all die.”

Tubbo seemed to contemplate it.

“Why are you telling me this, Tommy. Even if you didn’t leave and betray us you have no reason to not want us all dead after what we did to you.” Tubbo sounded regretful, his gaze falling to the floor as Tommy anxiously picked at his cuticles, a habit he had let spiral far too out of control.

“You were-are my best friend, Tubbo. No matter what I could never stand by and watch you die. Please understand that.”

Tubbo gave no reply.

“I get it if you don’t trust me but at least think about it. In two days they’re going into the Nether, they’re bringing minimal supplies to travel fast and they’re taking the portal to the west of the forest, you know the one that Wilbur and Sapnap built a few years ago?”

Tubbo nodded silently, listening to the information with a frown on his face.

“They’re going straight for the fortress when they’re in there, they want to farm blaze rods.” Tommy finished quietly. He was still closely watching Tubbo as the elder swayed between loyalties before his face set into determination.

“Thank you, Tommy. Sincerely.”

Tommy smiled, the bone-deep anxiety washing out of him like a tidal wave as Tubbo met his eyes again, a similar smile on his face.

It felt nice, Tommy thought, being with his friend again. Even if he was luring him into a pit of deceit.

“I have no doubts on who you stand with anymore, Tom but Wilbur is still convinced that you are working with the SMP so please, please leave before you get hurt. I don’t want to stand by and watch you die either.”

Tommy nodded, shuffling forward ever so slightly towards Tubbo with a nervous smile on his face. Tubbo understood the message, closing the distance and enveloping Tommy in a hug, burying his face into the younger’s neck with a sigh. Tommy returned the embrace, wrapping his arms tightly around his friend with a genuine smile on his face, choosing to focus on the warmth and love that seeped through Tubbo’s hold rather than the guilt that was eating him from the inside out.

Even though he was helping L’Manburg with this choice it still felt sinfully wrong.

When the hug broke apart Tommy had to smother the yearning to keep holding his friend in order to inch his way back to the door, his hand resting hesitantly on the handle as he gave Tubbo a sad smile over his shoulder.

“I’ll see you soon, Tubb, hopefully.”

Tubbo nodded, giving his friend a wave as Tommy slipped back into the open air of L’Manburg, slowly closing the door to avoid drawing attention to his friend. It closed with a soft click that sounded much more like a siren to Tommy, a siren to run as fast as he could.

The boy ran from the walls again like the devil was chasing him back to the SMP.

~

The next two days seemed to pass in a matter of moments leaving Tommy feeling like the world had been swept out from under his feet. The group had rehearsed the plan enough times that Tommy could run through the motions in his sleep.

The only thing they hadn’t counted for was how well L’Manburg would play along.

There was no way of knowing if Tubbo really had passed the message on, or if Wilbur would act on it. They had no idea of how updated their arsenal was since Tommy last took count and there was no guarantee that L’Manburg wouldn’t just wait in the Nether for them coming in to portal trap them.

There were enough unknowns in the equation for Tommy to doubt if it would even work but there was no room for doubt, not anymore.

They couldn’t afford the low morale.

For the first time since the SMP had taken Tommy in, the base was unnervingly quiet and relations were tense. There wasn’t much talking apart from planning because frankly no one had the guts to speak, no one wanted to look their peers in the eye and talk to them as if there was nothing wrong.

Because everything was so horribly wrong.

Any small conversation could be the last conversation, any words spoken could be your last words, and while that should have spurred the group into spending time together before they inevitably faced L’Manburg there was no incentive to.

They were all terrified of what the future would hold.

Tommy was still staying in Dream’s room but there had been no cuddling as the sun set for the last few days. Dream hadn’t set foot in his bedroom ever since the plan was made, the man choosing to pick through every possible loose thread to make sure there were no hidden variables that could mess everything up for their chances at victory.

Tommy didn’t know when the last time was that the blond man slept.

Though if Tommy were to complain he would only be a hypocrite. It wasn’t entirely the boy’s fault that he stared blankly at the ceiling for hours upon hours each night instead of sleeping; the few hours of sleep he had gotten had been plagued with nightmares of Wilbur’s snarling face and screaming as he watched each of his friends plummet into the never ending sea of lava in the Nether.

He didn’t want to see those images ever again for as long as he lived.

So instead he chose to be imprisoned with his thoughts as he kept up the charade of being ok to his friends. There wasn’t a chance Tommy would admit he was having trouble sleeping alone in the midst of the war, everyone was stressed enough without his complaining, everyone was on edge and Tommy was already a vulnerability for them; he wasn’t going to take a mile when they had given him a very generous inch.

So Tommy suffered in silence as the hours melted away until suddenly he was standing in the woods surrounded by the SMP. They were wearing minimal armour with swords hanging at their hips, Dream’s crossbow was loaded in advance, his quiver of arrows bulging on his back.

Tommy looked significantly less battle ready even standing next to the worryingly under armoured SMP but it had been agreed that Tommy was to be as far away as possible from the heart of the fight at all costs. All that Tommy was carrying was a small rucksack that held a single item in it, that item being the one thing that could win or lose the war for them.

And that responsibility was nerve wracking.

George took a deep breath before speaking. “I don’t know what to say to be honest but no matter what happens, I love you all and there are no other people I would rather die for than you lot.” He breathed out with a small, reassuring smile.

“The same goes for me, I care for you all so much and if I don’t make it out of here I want you all to know that it was an honour working with you.” Eret followed proudly, rolling his shoulders back with a grin.

“Stop, dude you’re gonna make me cry.” Sapnap joked, lightly shoving Eret’s shoulder.

“And I just want to try to start thanking you for everything you’ve done for me these last few days.” Tommy muttered. “You showed me what family feels like again.”

Everyone smiled at his words as Dream tightly clutched his forearm. “It’s good to have you with us, kid.”

No other words were exchanged as Dream lowered his mask to cover his face entirely, the familiar foreboding smiley face grinning sadistically at the flickering portal before them sending reflections of purple and fire across the porcelain. “Let’s stay on the right side of history.”

One by one they clambered onto the obsidian, the portal melding around their skin like jelly as their sights were obscured by the wavering purple haze while the overworld faded into darkness. Tommy held onto the sturdy obsidian wall next to him as his knees buckled from the nauseating experience before the terrifying expanse of red netherrack stretched out before his eyes.

The purple haze faded away and the jelly like feeling of the portal released him as he stumbled off the obsidian to set foot officially into the Nether, the netherrack crumbling beneath his feet.

The heat was instantaneous, the overwhelming temperature hit Tommy like a freight truck as sweat built up around his collar with little to no delay. The group made quick work of finding their bearings before they did as they planned and headed towards the Nether fortress, a landmark they had found many months ago.

Tommy took a different route from the rest of the SMP, clambering up small netherrack hills to make his own way to the fortress to stand at his vantage point while being out of sight of L’Manburg.

Thankfully during one of Dream and George’s last trips to this fortress they had cleared all the spawners and mobs from the area so the haunting structure was deadly silent and scarily empty and vast. Tommy travelled the halls on naught but memory after he had burned the maps into his skull and before his brain had caught up to where he was going he was perched on a window opening, staring down onto one of the open sections of the fortress.

Tommy kept his grip tight, the entirety of the floor beneath this section of the fortress had been swallowed by lava, the bubbling substance was popping and gurgling under their feet like a warning that if they were to fall, there would be no saving them.

The SMP had tried to brew some kind of fire or heat resistance potion but that would’ve required magma cream that unfortunately had all been farmed and stolen by L’Manburg.

They would have to rely on luck so that they wouldn’t mess up their footing and fall to an agonising death.

Tommy tried to calm his breathing as he watched the SMP set up a mock base to further convince L’Manburg, if they showed up, that they were planning on grinding there for a while. The wait itself was worse than the multiple sleepless nights Tommy had spent in solitude.

The plan, in all honesty, was falling into place quite neatly, all things considered. The SMP were standing in such a way that it wouldn’t be immediately obvious but if anyone were to ambush them, the opposing side would end up with their backs to the fiery pit below with no room for escape; the exact situation they required for victory.

But nothing ever goes exactly to plan, does it?

Tommy can’t recall feeling the arrow enter his shoulder nor how he had allowed his grip to loosen on his ledge causing him to drop from his spot and hit the floor of the fortress with resounding thud.

The reaction was instant, the three members of L’Manburg poured from the shadows, a now unloaded crossbow clutched in Wilbur’s hand as the man laughed at the crippled form of a bleeding Tommy on the floor.

The SMP watched in stunned shock as Fundy and Tubbo swarmed them, stealing their weapons from under their noses before immobilising them with their own weapons, a sword in each hand at each of the SMP’s necks.

Wilbur laughed cockily at the situation. “Funny isn’t it, we’ve come full circle haven’t we, Dreamie?”

Dream gave no response, his mask hiding his features as the painted face cheerily smiled at the enemy.

“C’mon, what’s the matter? Angry that I wasn’t enough of an idiot to just waltz straight into the fortress? Is that the issue here?” Wilbur taunted. “You really thought I wouldn’t check around the area before coming after you? It’s a good thing I did though wasn’t it, Dreamie? Look what I caught, a rat was hiding in one of the windows.” He motioned to Tommy, who was unmoving on the floor, the arrow still protruding from his shoulder as blood pooled around him.

Tubbo’s eyes moved from Dream to Tommy as Wilbur spoke about him, his gaze hardening as he watched the blood pour from the wound like a waterfall. “He lied to me. He betrayed me.” The boy whispered.

Wilbur grinned, a manic expression painted on his face. “Yes, Tubbo. He led you here to die! I told you, he’s a useless bitch that licks Dream’s asshole like the mutt he is.”

Eret grimaced at the foul language that was being used to describe his friend as Dream’s fists clenched by his side.

“He was supposed to be on my side and- and he lied to me.” Whether or not Tubbo had heard what Wilbur had said was a mystery, the boy seemed so out of it as he tried to come to terms with Tommy leading him into what should’ve been an ambush.

“Tubbo, I want you to understand that Tommy lied to keep you safe, he lied because we told him to because we thought we could save you.” Dream spoke softly, his fists slowly uncurling to reveal faint crescent shaped marks on his palm.

“Save him from what, Dream? Save him from me is that it?” Wilbur cackled, marching towards Dream and digging a finger into his chest. “You, the asshole that’s been terrorising us for months, want to save little ol’ Tubbo who I’ve protected for years?” He sneered. “You want to play the hero, do you, Dream? How can you be the brave underdog that saves everyone when you’re too much of a pussy to even show your face?”

The porcelain didn’t stop smiling.

Wilbur tore the mask away to reveal Dream whose face was red and his eyes bloodshot from holding back tears. His face was covered in trenches of scars, both new and old and his hair was matted from sweat.

He was still human; human and terrified for the wellbeing of those he cared for.

Wilbur laughed at the sight causing Dream to flinch. From the corner of his eye he could see George tense with anger and Dream prayed that his friend wouldn’t do anything rash on his behalf.

“You can’t Dream, you can’t save anyone. You couldn’t save George, you thought you were doing good taking in Tommy and look at him now, bleeding out in the Nether. You thought you could save my friends from me? And look where that’s gotten you. You’ve lost and now you’ve condemned yourself and your friends to death.” Wilbur spat with a grin, grinding his pointer finger deeper into Dream’s loosely armoured chest. “I win.”

“No,” the voice sounded weak and pained, as if speaking was leaving a toll on the speaker’s body and instantly seven heads spun to see Tommy, who was standing albeit shakily but standing all the same, with his rucksack grasped in front of him, half open.

With trembling hands the boy yanked the arrow from his shoulder, the flesh tearing as the blood leaked out with a heavier flow and apart from a slight grimace, Tommy gave no signs that it bothered him as he tossed the arrow into the lava below.

His grip had no give on the bag as he stared down Wilbur who still just grinned at him, as if in invitation to try and do something to turn the tide. Tommy gnawed on his lip as he spotted Dream’s watching him with pure anxiety staining his bare face. George looked like he was close to throwing up over Fundy while Sapnap and Eret both seemed to have disassociated from the situation entirely, their faces blank as Tubbo’s grip on his swords at their necks loosened.

“No? No, Tommy?” Wilbur sneered, stepping closer to Tommy. “What are you gonna do to stop me?” Another step. “Huh, Tommy? What. Are. You. Gonna. Do. About. It?” He was right in front of Tommy now, his eyes shining with malice. Tommy stared back at him with no hesitation, his eyes set and determined.

“This.” Tommy spat. In a matter of seconds Tommy pulled the item from his rucksack, a rolled up, amateurly crafted sleeping bag that Tommy tossed to the ground with a smirk on his face. “It was never meant to be, sir.”

The screams of the SMP were silenced by the instantaneous explosion that tore through the floor they were standing on. Both Tubbo and Fundy stumbled, dropping their weapons allowing the SMP, including Sapnap and Eret who had snapped out of their stupor to lunge forward, grabbing the two to pull them out of danger of the blast.

But they couldn’t grab one specific person.

The explosion sent Tommy and Wilbur upwards, the ground beneath them no longer there leaving nothing but a long drop into lava, a long drop to their demise.

“You fucker!” Wilbur yelled, the words echoing in Tommy’s head as his ears continued ringing after the loud bang. He was beyond disorientated as he began to fall, only feeling Wilbur’s hand grab onto his green hoodie so that the older man could ensure that if he was going to die then Tommy would burn with him.

Tommy’s vision was reduced to black, the sounds around him fading in and out of audibility accompanied by the constant ringing that was drilling into his brain. He could feel wind slamming into his face as he plummeted towards the floor, to his death.

This was it.

And yet Tommy couldn’t feel despair about the fact. He prayed that the SMP had saved Fundy and Tubbo from the blast, he prayed that Tubbo would mourn him even after what he had done, if even only a little. He prayed that his family, his brothers, could make a new, happier life for themselves now that Tommy had sentenced Wilbur to death at the price of his own life.

If they could then it would be worth it.

His vision slowly crept back to him and he held eye contact with Will as the two fell in what felt like slow motion and as death grew closer Tommy gave his old friend a smile, a warm smile.

A smile of forgiveness.

“Goodbye, Will.”

Wilbur seemed shocked and yet his eyes, the eyes that had held so much fury and threat for so long, softened. They were caring again, they were regretful.

The ringing began to fade as Tommy heard faraway yelling from above.

His friends no doubt, calling out for his safety.

Wilbur returned his smile, his death-grip on Tommy’s hoodie lessened as he pulled the boy into a hug instead. It was warm, and meaningful and seeping with love.

This was the Wilbur Tommy would do anything for.

This was the Will Tommy would die for.

And die he was going to do.

Wilbur’s eyes drifted to above and realisation flashed in them before they settled again. Wilbur seemed calm, accepting of his fate and as he pulled away from the hug he spoke his last words.

“I’m sorry for everything, Tommy. I love you, kid.”

And Wilbur let go.

Tommy couldn’t fully comprehend what happened after he was released from WIlbur’s hold but he felt someone else grab him from behind. Unable to turn around to see who had grabbed him Tommy had to simply fall in their hold before he yelped, a glass bottle had been smashed into his side, the potion effect’s seeping into his pores and presumably into his captor’s also.

The potion smelt of burnt sugar and cinnamon, Tommy thought to himself as his mind began to shut down. He knew that smell; fire resistance.

Tommy watched as Wilbur hit the lava seconds before he did, the older man sinking into its depths with a horrific scream as the substance burned him alive, melting through his skin and disintegrating his bones while submerging his insides entirely as he swallowed it by accident.

Tommy had the sense to hold his breath as he made contact with the bubbling liquid, the substance leaving a tingling sensation across his body as he was engulfed in it completely. It wasn’t uncomfortable, his skin had broken out in goosebumps and somehow despite being surrounded by lava he didn't feel warm in the slightest.

If anything Tommy felt quite cold.

As his saviour swam them to the surface, Tommy felt his head spin, nausea getting the better of him as all of his injuries flared up, the hole in his shoulder, the small cuts from the glass shards, the burns from the explosion, the gash on his face, his almost healed broken nose. And the one that hurt the most, the death of a man Tommy thought would be with him forever.

Unable to cope with the painful sensations attacking him from all directions, Tommy passed out leaving his life in the hands of his saviour.

~

If Tommy had known how painful it would be when he opened his eyes he never would have.

The instant he woke up he felt like he had been run over by a horse. His head was pounding, his shoulder was throbbing and his entire body felt weighed down. The boy groaned as the light shone on his face, his head flaring up in warning causing him to clench his eyes shut once more, throwing his forearm over his face.

At least the cut there didn’t hurt to touch anymore but sadly Tommy could feel a scar itching against his skin, a scar that would remain on his face for the rest of his life reminding him for as long as he breathed about what had happened.

And unfortunately amongst Tommy’s arsenal of injuries, amnesia didn’t seem to be one of them as every small detail of the last few months slammed into his brain in the matter of a single moment.

Tommy was beyond overwhelmed as he tried to chase after some kind of comfort to prove that everything was ok, he couldn’t work out where he was, he didn’t know if Fundy was ok, if Tubbo got hurt, if the SMP had survived the blast.

He knew nothing except that Wilbur was dead and that he was in a lot of pain.

The boy burst into sobs before he could convince himself not to, the cries tearing through him like a knife as his aching body trembled. His breath was running away from him and he choked as he chased for air, coughing soon followed, leaving him hacking and in agony as he curled into a ball in the unfamiliar bed.

“Tommy? Oh my God, Tommy you’re awake!” There was someone in the room with him, someone who sounded incredibly relieved that he was awake even if he was breaking down.

Tommy could hear them hurry across the room, a selection of items falling to the floor in sequential thuds before he was pulled into one of the tightest hugs Tommy could ever imagine. He could feel tears that weren’t his own staining the back of his shirt as the person cried into his shoulder, holding so tightly onto Tommy that it seemed the person was convinced the boy would vanish if he let go for even a moment.

Tommy hugged back regardless, his heart shattered and craving affection.

He clawed at the person’s shirt desperately as they both cried, one tears of happiness and the other entirely heartbroken.

The person pulled away a few moments later and Tommy finally set eyes on George whose glasses were perched in his hair and whose eyes were puffy and red. His face was streaked with tears but there was a large smile plastered on his face in contrast. “God, Tommy we were so worried, you’ve been unconscious for so long and we didn’t think you were going to wake up.” George fussed, checking all the wounds scattered across Tommy’s body.

Tommy sniffled, silent tears still streaming down his cheeks as he watched George check him over. “What the fuck happened, George?” He mumbled, his eyes watering as he watched George inspect him as if to make sure he was real.

“You blew the place up, Tom. You and Will started falling and there was nothing we could do,” George rambled.

“Someone jumped.” Tommy muttered as George took a hold of his hands, rubbing the pads of his thumbs against the boy’s palms. “Someone jumped after us and Wilbur let me go.”

George nodded with a small smile. “It was Dream.” He answered simply.

“But how?” Tommy queried. “I was hit with a fire resistance potion and unless my head is more fucked than I thought, we didn’t have the supplies to brew any of those.”

George only smiled again, sending a small glance at the door before looking back into Tommy’s red eyes. “Tubbo almost smashed the bottle with how violently he shoved it into Dream’s chest.” The man laughed. “The kid looked terrified when he saw you both fall and I’ve never seen a human move as fast as Tubbo did to pull that potion from one of his pockets.”

Tommy’s mouth hung open.

Tubbo… Tubbo had essentially saved his life even after Tommy betrayed him.

Tubbo still cared.

Tears started falling down Tommy’s face again but they were happy tears. He hadn’t lost his closest friend, at least not yet. There was still hope for forgiveness.

The boy lunged at George again, pulling the man into another tight hug that George returned with a breathless laugh, rubbing his hand into Tommy’s back as the younger laughed with glee through his tears.

Everything felt like it was somewhat going to be ok.

George peeled himself off of Tommy, shuffling off the bed to collect the scattered belongings on the floor that Tommy could now identify as bandages and a selection of creams. For his injuries, he guessed.

“You’re in the spare room of our base if you were wondering.” George told him as he folded up the bandages against his chest. “We use it as an infirmary.”

Tommy nodded in understanding, his gaze drifting to properly inspect his strange surroundings. The room lacked the warm aura the rest of the base had, the walls were painted white and there was no carpet on the floor, only wooden floorboards. There was a familiar set up in the corner of a furnace and crafting table and there was an old and extremely battered brewing stand sitting atop the furnace. Other than that the room was packed with chests and a cauldron that the SMP had probably looted from a witch’s hut during an exploration further outside the borders.

It looked like an infirmary so it served its purpose anyway.

“I was just gonna redress your wounds but you’ve woken up so God, I need to go get the others.” George rambled, setting his items on top of a random chest before turning to the door. “I can bring everyone at once or is that too much?” He said over his shoulder.

Tommy chewed on his lip before agreeing. “Too much.” he muttered.

George nodded, closing his hand around the handle. “I’ll bring Dream up at first and then the others can come one at a time, is that ok?” George asked gently, tilting his head.

Tommy gave him a nod of approval.

George smiled before slinking out of the room with a promise to return shortly.

Tommy buried himself further in the multiple blankets that had been draped over the bed for him, snuggling deeper into the wool for comfort as he stared blankly at a wall waiting on George and Dream entering.

Being alive felt strange. Tommy was so sure in those moments of falling that he was going to die, he had accepted that he wasn’t going to survive, that he had sacrificed himself in order to save his friends and there wasn’t a single scenario that had gone through his head that would’ve landed him where he was now; safe and alive and recovering back in the SMP’s base.

It was jarring.

He had no more time to stew in his thoughts before the door flew open again and George strolled in, recollecting his supplies from the chest before making his way to Tommy’s bedside with a relieved smile when he noticed that Tommy was in fact still awake. Dream appeared from behind the door moments later, his mask nowhere to be seen, replaced instead by a real genuine smile that stretched across his face.

His hair had been recently washed and the blond strands looked fluffy and healthy and the cut his shattered mask had left had completely healed leaving only a small red line that would probably fade in a few days.

But that begged the question, how long had he actually been asleep for? The way George had acted it must have been an awful long time.

The tension that was sub-consciously building in Dream’s shoulders seemed to drain from his body when he spotted Tommy, swaddled in blankets yet awake, on the bed. He released a sigh before grinning again, laughing out a, “hi” before charging to the bed and pulling Tommy into an embrace.

“Hi.” Tommy choked back with a smile as he hung limply in Dream’s hold, the man’s grip being too tight for the boy to move to even hug back. Dream laughed into Tommy’s neck before pulling back, still grasping Tommy’s shoulders as he ran his eyes up and down Tommy’s form before laughing in delight again, diving in for another hug that Tommy could actually return.

“God, Tommy you had me so worried you have no idea.” The blond man mumbled next to Tommy’s ear before pulling away again to cup Tommy’s face in his large hands. “I was so scared the potion didn't work properly, or the magma in it did something to your shoulder, or if your shoulder wound was worse than we thought.” The blond man rambled, his green eyes shining with worry. “But you’re ok, you’re ok, aren’t you?”

Tommy nodded and Dream let out another joyous laughter. George giggled also, before forcing Dream off the bed temporarily to look at Tommy’s wounds. With some small struggle Tommy pulled the white shirt, that was certainly not his own, that he was wearing over his head to reveal his chest which was wrapped like a Christmas present with bandages. It was terrifying just how little skin was visible.

George assured him that the excessive amount of bandages was merely a precaution and that even though there were a lot of injuries they were all almost healed and completely clean.

“How long was I unconscious?” Tommy asked cautiously as George unwrapped the layers of bandages around his chest and shoulder. Dream and George shared a look before Dream took a deep breath to steady himself.

“Three and a half weeks.”

Tommy’s breath caught in his throat as the reality of those numbers hit him. That was almost a month.

A month of his life just gone… cruelly taken from him by the Gods.

A month since Wilbur died.

A month since he betrayed Tubbo.

A month since L’Manburg lost the war.

Tommy exhaled to calm himself as George silently finished removing the dirty bandages. “What happened when I was asleep?” The question was a risk and Tommy knew that. With how he was thinking before he was assuming only a few days had passed but no, it was much, much longer.

Had Tubbo and Fundy moved on? It had been a month since he had betrayed them, if they were to forgive him Tommy assumed they would have started to make up their mind after a month of thinking.

And yet they weren’t the first to barge into his room when he woke up.

If the situation was normal Tubbo would have been eating and sleeping in the room with him but Tubbo was nowhere to be seen.

“Tubbo basically threw the fire resistance pot at me when you and Wilbur began falling and I dived after you pretty much straight after.” Dream began explaining. “Wilbur was holding you, but when he saw me he let you go. He made sure that you would be saved, Tommy, even if he wouldn’t be. I grabbed you as soon as I could and smashed the bottle and I just had to hope enough of it hit you to keep you safe when we hit and God I was so scared when I swam us up and you were unconscious, kid.” The words kept pouring from his mouth like water from a tap and Tommy could feel the anxiety and fear he must have felt as he watched Tommy pass out in his arms. “I’m not going to lie to you, I ditched everyone and ran straight to the portal to get you back here cause, fuck, I thought you were dying.”

George snorted. “We didn’t have a clue if either of you made it out of the lava pool, for God’s sake.” The man’s fingers made quick work of checking over all the burns on Tommy’s pale skin that would once more leave an array of scars Tommy would have to forever live with.

He was making quite the collection.

Including his largest one, the stitched up hole the arrow left in his shoulder. As Tommy looked down at it while George cleaned the area around it he felt numb. He could picture where the arrow tore through, he could tell it had almost punctured right through his joint to stick out the other side, he could see how the wound was wider than it should have been from Tommy yanking the head out.

It was horrific.

Dream guided his vision away from the sight as George quickly cleaned and checked the wound before replacing the gauze and starting to bandage his chest again.

“I did the basic first aid stuff on you but I’m no professional, so I just had to wait and watch over you while waiting on George to get back.” Dream admitted. “Eret, Sap and him didn’t take long though, it was only an hour or so later they finally burst in and we fixed everything we could.”

Tommy wet his lips, a question dancing on his tongue.

Dream noticed. “I know what you’re going to ask, kid. Tubbo and Fundy didn’t come back with them. I’m only guessing they returned to L’Manburg but they showed up the next day to see you.”

Tommy perked up at that information. “They came?”

Dream smiled. “They came and they stayed, yeah. They didn’t want to be in L’Manburg for a while, understandably, but they were still stiff being around us, especially Eret, but I can’t really blame them for that. You were the only common factor, Tommy. Everyone stayed for you.”

Tommy felt tears threaten to spill again at the thought. They still cared.

“They’re downstairs with the others. Everyone is waiting their turn to see you, kid.” Dream said warmly.

George finished his task before helping Tommy tug his shirt back on. He stood from the bed after giving Tommy one last hug and motioned for Dream to go back over again.

Dream entrapped the boy in yet another hug that surprisingly didn’t bother Tommy as much as he thought it would. The physical affection was strangely heartwarming and something Tommy was yet to get enough of.

The blond ruffled Tommy’s hair before following George to the door. “I’ll see you later, kid. I think I know who to send up next, don’t worry.” Dream sent Tommy a wink before ushering George out of the room, closing the door behind them.

Tommy knew who was being sent up next as well and he didn’t think he was ready for the confrontation.

He had been so worried for Tubbo ever since he opened his eyes, dancing around the unknowns of if his friend was ok and if he would ever speak to him again. But now he was going to face those unknowns head on and he didn’t think he was ready. The guilt of what he had done, even if it was to protect Tubbo, was overwhelming, suffocating sometimes and Tommy found himself struggling to breathe as flashes of Tubbo’s betrayed and hurt face that his delirious mind had picked up danced through his brain like a twisted parade, taunting him from the confines of his own skull.

He whimpered as he subconsciously begged it to stop.

He was disturbed by the door creaking open hesitantly.

Tommy’s head shot up to see Tubbo standing at the door, his brow furrowed in concern as he watched Tommy unravel himself from the blankets to stare at his friend properly.

The situation was dishearteningly familiar and the scar on his face twinged in warning, only now Wilbur was dead, Wilbur wasn’t growing to spring from the shadows like a predator waiting to pounce.

It was just Tubbo and Tommy.

The two stared at each other for a long while before Tubbo silently shuffled into the room, inching the door shut. The silence was terrifying.

“Hey.” Tommy broke the ice.

Tubbo let out a breath. “Hi.” He sounded scared, uneasy, unsure but he gave a shaky smile regardless before walking deeper into the room and perching himself on the foot of the bed, his eyes trained on his feet.

“Were you hurt?” The question was stiff and awkward but Tommy forced as much enthusiasm into it as possible to encourage Tubbo to at least look at him.

“You’re really asking if I was hurt when you’re sitting in an infirmary after blowing yourself up and falling into lava?” Tubbo laughed quietly at the question, his head inching upwards as he looked briefly back at Tommy.

Tommy grinned. “I’m me, Tubbo. I wasn’t hurt too badly.” The boy said with a smile.

Tubbo’s face turned grim. “It’s been a month, Tommy. I think you were hurt pretty bad.”

Tommy’s grin wavered but he shook his head slightly before nudging his friend with his foot. “You saved me, Tubbo.”

Tubbo fidgeted. “I don’t know why I did.”

Tommy inhaled sharply, watching the back of his friend’s head carefully but the older boy didn’t move. “If it means anything I am sorry, Tubbo. I lied to you and I felt horrible for doing it.”

Tubbo’s form tensed. “Sorry won’t bring Wilbur back, Tommy. He’s dead.”

“Wilbur died a long time ago, Tubbo. You know it as well as I do and if I didn’t do something he would have killed you and Fundy as well.” Tommy argued, his voice soft as he watched Tubbo pull his knees to his chest. “You looked horrible, you were falling apart and I had to watch from the sidelines as he poisoned you and the only thing I could think to do was ensure the SMP won because then I could get you and Fundy out.”

Tubbo was silent for a moment before he took a deep breath and turned to face Tommy. His eyes were scared, large and shaky as he studied his best friend who smiled at him despite the arsenal of injuries decorating his body.

“You told me you couldn’t stand by and watch me die, Tommy. You meant it as well, just not how I thought you did. But I told you I couldn’t watch you die either and even after everything that happened I still couldn’t bear to watch it.”

“You’re still my best friend, Tubb. Forever and always.” Tommy promised with a smile, stretching his hand out.

Tubbo eyed it warily before he grasped it, holding it warmly in his own as he returned Tommy’s smile with his own small one. “Forever and always, Tom.’

Unlike Tommy’s physical wounds, the emotional wounds between himself and his friends would not be nearly healed in a matter of weeks. Emotional healing would take months; months until there wasn’t a small flicker of hesitation before Tubbo joked with Tommy, months until Fundy would give as warm of hugs as he used to without someone else initiating it. It would take months before Fundy and Tubbo would stop flinching when Eret raised a hand in greeting or when Dream entered a room with a sword or crossbow in hand.

Months before Tommy would stop crying himself to sleep in Dream’s arms (a sleeping situation that seemed to be becoming surprisingly permanent) when he recalled how broken Tubbo looked after learning of his betrayal.

Months before George could sleep without the aid of torch light and someone else in the room to ward away nightmares.

It would take time, but they were healing slowly and surely.

Tubbo and Fundy had shown Tommy the small makeshift grave they had built in Wilbur’s memory that was placed proudly by the entrance of a now empty L’Manburg; it would probably stay empty for the foreseeable future.

It was strange staring down at the cobblestone knowing that there was nothing underneath it as Wilbur was dead but he was also gone entirely. There was nothing left of Wilbur at all.

It seemed to become reality as Tommy read the messily inscribed letters: ‘Wilbur Soot, 24. Gone but never forgotten. L’Manburg’s unfinished symphony.’

Wilbur was dead.

But now Tommy could mourn the Wilbur he really knew, the Wilbur that ran through treetops with him, the Wilbur that taught him to hunt and fight. The Wilbur that guided him like an older brother, like a leader.

He could mourn his friend and not the man that scarred him.

Once George let Tommy leave the infirmary, the boy spent his days helping Fundy and Tubbo build a small house neighbouring the SMP’s base which was slowly becoming a set residence for the group.

The old residents of L’Manburg weren’t fully comfortable living with the SMP but the idea of leaving the area sent shivers down their spine, flashes of nightmares and screaming kept them anchored to a place with other people, people who could comfort them.

Tommy was more than happy for a distraction as well as an excuse to spend more time with his brothers and he eventually found himself in a pleasant routine of spending his mornings helping build the house block by block before spending the afternoon with his new family, the SMP.

Whatever role Wilbur had left empty in Tommy’s heart, Dream was doing his best to fill it. It would never be the same as what WIll was to him but Tommy couldn’t imagine anyone he would rather have by his side now than his masked friend.

Not that Dream was masked anymore.

He wouldn’t explain his reasoning to anyone but even though he had gone to the Nether one final time to collect his dejected piece of porcelain from where Wilbur dropped it he hadn’t worn it since the war ended.

Tommy didn't want to ask why.

Everyone, though it had taken a long while of staring as Dream let out a familiar wheeze paired with a pained expression on his face that no one had witnessed before, had gotten used to seeing Dream and not the smiley face.

He was much less intimidating without the porcelain mask, his youthful yet scarred face was friendly and attractive and if anyone were to visit the SMP they wouldn’t look twice at him nor assume he was the king.

He was just Dream now.

George and Eret had basically given up entirely on fighting, the two taking to patching up the land from explosions and exploring new biomes for new resources to expand their town. The two had enthusiastically planned with Tommy and Tubbo about what new towers they would construct and where to put the new bee farm Eret was preparing for as a sorry present for Tubbo.

Tubbo had graciously accepted it.

Sapnap strangely spent a lot of time with Fundy, the fox at first being a little drawn back but soon warming up to the ex-arsonist. The two found out about their shared interest in Redstone and soon the houses were completely covered in the red powder whether it be for automated farming in the land around them or to reveal a wall of glowstone as the sun began to set.

They were healing.

It was many months later that Dream approached Tommy with a strange proposition. All the wounds decorating Tommy’s body had healed leaving their story behind on his skin like a grotesque story book. The boy had dug out one of his old bandanas from a chest to wrap around his neck like he used to to hide some of the more severe burn scars and the scar from the arrow on his shoulder was always covered regardless but there was no way to hide the scar that mangled his face.

Tommy couldn't feel sad about it though. Seeing it every time he looked in the mirror served as a reminder of everything he had lost and everything he had gained. It was grounding.

Dream sounded regretful as he asked Tommy to go to the Nether with him one afternoon. The boy hadn’t returned to the hellscape since the time he had almost blown himself up but Dream’s eyes were pleading and Tommy trusted that Dream could protect them.

He hesitantly agreed.

The two spent some time throwing together a bag of supplies that was majority food for their trip and before Tommy could blink he was feeling that nauseating experience of the portal melding to his skin again.

The Nether was warmer than he remembered and the boy quickly removed his neck scarf as he felt the sweat soak through the material within minutes. Dream led the way, navigating the expanse of netherrack before they neared the towering structure of the Nether fortress once more. The dark bricks seemed to mock them as they entered the building, the horror and despair engulfing them as ghast screams echoed across the walls.

They moved quickly, darting through corridors before they stopped near one of the exits that’s led to an open section of the fortress.

Tommy knew exactly where Dream had taken them without even having to think about it, the memories still fresh at the front of his mind.

Dream gave him an encouraging smile before offering his gloved hand to the boy that Tommy quickly grabbed and the two made their way hand in hand onto the exploded section of the fortress. The brick was crumbling into the abyss of lava below them and to Tommy’s dismay he could see a darkened patch of his dried blood sitting stark against the dark brick.

They stood in silence as they took in the abandoned battlefield before Dream let go of Tommy’s hand to reach into the bag he was carrying. The older man removed the familiar porcelain mask from the bag’s depths, its surface cracked from the fall it suffered after Wilbur dropped it. The crack danced along the white of the mask as well as splitting the mouth in half, the cracks branching out to swallow half of the face entirely.

Dream’s fingers traced the cracks in a practiced manner before he looked at Tommy who was watching him with curious eyes.

“If Wilbur was right about anything, he was right about me. How can I hope to be the hero when I’m too much of a pussy to show my face?” Dream told him, his fingers stopping on the cracked smile. “I was too afraid to let people see me, to see what I was thinking, what I was feeling because I thought it was a weakness. I thought that showing how I was human would be my downfall and I guess it was in the end.” He mused.

Tommy stayed quiet, encouraging him to continue.

Dream took a deep breath. “I adopted this mindset that others had forced onto me, that I was ruthless, that I wanted to keep my power over anything else. I believed that if I showed how not special I was I would lose what I already had, so I hid. I hid behind a mask in front of you all and in front of myself. I made everyone think, even myself, that I was a power hungry, bloodthirsty monster.” Dream looked at Tommy.

“I don’t want that anymore.”

He looked at the mask once more, his hands cradling the piece of porcelain like a newborn child. The shattered object was important to him, that much was clear.

“You don’t have to throw it away if you don’t want to, Dream. You’ve changed and nobody needs to see you throw that thing away to prove it.” Tommy said with a smile, shuffling closer to the taller and grasping his shoulder. “Do what you want to do.”

Dream nodded, tracing the smile on the mask one final time before the smile reflected onto his own face. “I want to be a hero, kid.”

“Then be a hero.”

He hurled the mask from the fortress, the white porcelain sticking out against the red, netherrack ceiling before it curved in the air, falling towards the lava. The glow from the lava reflected off the stark white of the mask making it look like the smile winked before it sank into the fiery depths of the Nether, gone forever.

The silence that fell over them was comfortable and Tommy smiled as he watched Dream stare, contentedly, at the lava.

He was healing.

Neither of them moved as they stared out across the expanse of the Nether, finally feeling a sense of peace settle bone deep inside of them.

Tommy’s moment of relaxation shattered when he heard the telltale rattle of bones nearby, a Wither skeleton no doubt. Dream’s eyes were closed, oblivious to their surroundings so Tommy took it upon himself to unsheathe his diamond sword from his belt and trace his steps back into the fortress.

But he saw the monster before he needed to.

In the window, the window Tommy had been sniped from, a Wither skeleton was staring down at them, its sword clenched in its bony hand, the withered poison dripping from the blade and burning through the brick of the window.

It’s empty eye sockets settled on Tommy and the bones rattled again as it shifted, its head tilting as it studied the boy. Tommy watched with bated breath as it readjusted its grip on its deadly weapon before it stepped away from the window.

Despite its lack of eyes, Tommy could see the familiarity in the vast emptiness of its eye sockets.

The wither skeleton continued to watch him.

Tommy smiled at it, at him, and watched as the wither skeleton rattled its bones once more before turning and walking away from the window, to another section of the fortress, never to be seen again.

“Hey, kid? Are you ready to leave yet, you seem distracted?” Dream’s voice sent him crashing back to reality but Tommy turned to his friend with a smile.

“Yeah, I’m ready to go. I just thought I saw someone.” Tommy answered, sliding his sword back into his belt loop. “Let’s go home, Dream.”

Dream looked at him oddly, darting his eyes up to the empty window before shrugging. “Only if you’re sure you’re ok.” Dream offered.

Tommy looked at the window once more also, remembering the skeleton.

He was healing.

“I’m sure.”

“Then let’s go home, kid.”