Chapter Text
The day had started just fine. Tommy had walked back to his little tent from a night in his mine to find a spruce tree, adorned with brightly colored ornaments and strings of multi-colored lights waiting for him. Underneath it lay a box with a note on top-
Tommy,
This isn’t out of pity, I just wanted to wish you happy holidays.
-Puffy :)
In the box were three diamonds atop a mound of blue wool. Tommy had taken a step back to look at the tree and smiled for the first time in a while. Even if he was thousands of blocks away from everyone else, maybe they did still care about him.
After a short nap, he’d taken the diamonds and a few sticks to make a pickaxe, then set off back into the mine he’d started earlier. A number of hours later, he had a full set of iron armor, a diamond sword, a bunch of coal, extra iron, and a diamond to spare. Content with the sum of his efforts, he made his way back to the surface.
The sun was just setting as he reached the last step out of the mine, casting an orange and pink glow over the land. Hauling himself across the plains to his tent, Tommy was already thinking about the uncomfortable sleeping roll waiting for him.
Any hope of retiring to sleep early was crushed as soon as his makeshift shelter came into view, the annoying, green-clad figure of Dream stood looking up at his tree. With a sigh, Tommy dragged himself over, the bags under his eyes feeling heavier than normal. Dream looked over at him as he approached.
“Hello Tommy,” Dream said, voice light and casual, “Nice tree you’ve got.”
Tommy narrowed his eyes at him but said nothing, grip tightening around the torch in his hand. Dream moved to stand next to a hole in the ground a few yards from his tent.
“Take your armor off.”
“What? No, why should I?!” Tommy knew it was coming, but that didn’t make it any easier. Dream’s axe materialized in his hand.
“Drop it down here.” Dream said, gesturing to the pit with his axe. Tommy’s arms shook, a sense of dread filling him.
“Please, I worked really hard for it,” Tommy said quietly, wanting to kick himself for how pathetic he sounded. Dream didn’t budge.
“And you can get it again, now drop it in the pit.”
With a defeated sigh, Tommy untied the leather straps on his armor and tossed the pieces one by one into the hole, becoming increasingly upset as each one clunked against the bottom. Once he finished, he dramatically held his arms out to the sides.
“Happy?” With a hum, Dream walked around him, poking at the hilt of the sword in his backpack.
“This too.”
“Why man, why?!” Tommy cried indignantly, “These are the only diamonds I have!”
“Just drop it.”
Tommy ran a hand through his dirty, matted hair, before tugging the glistening blue blade out of his backpack and dropping it down the pit as well, a grimace making its way onto his face.
Dream put his axe away, replaced by a few sticks of dynamite in his hand. With no further theatrics, he dropped the TNT down next to Tommy’s things. Pushing Tommy away from the hole, he took out his bow and nocked an arrow, it’s head bursting into flames. Dream shot down into the pit, and a few moments later a thunderous boom rattled through Tommy, who looked on dejectedly. Dream turned to him, putting his bow away.
“So what have you been up to?” Dream asked innocently. Tommy scoffed, turning back to his tent.
“Fuck off,” He muttered, too tired to care about the creeper inching its way toward him. He could hear its hiss as Dream embedded his axe in the creature’s head behind him.
“I played chess with Tubbo today,” Dream said as Tommy opened his enderchest and deposited his single diamond. Tommy’s heart clenched and he tilted his head down to look at the floor.
“How was he?” Tommy asked, trying to keep his tone flat even as a few unexpected tears sprung to his eyes.
“I beat him,” Dream said, a smile evident in his voice, “You know, he came here earlier.”
“What?” Tommy froze, eyebrows furrowing. Dream leaned against the supporting pole in his tent.
“Yeah, he came earlier while you were down in the mines.”
Tommy was silent for a second, before shaking his head. He scrubbed at his eyes as he left his tent, Dream following closely behind him.
“No, no I think you’re just messing with my head,” Tommy said as he walked down the path to Logsted, though uncertainty was clear in his voice.
“Nope, ask Wilbur next time you see him.” Dream said smugly as Tommy tipped the contents of his bag into a barrel, fishing out the iron ore and some coal. The two walked into the one-room cabin Wilbur had built, Dream leaning against the wall.
“Why would the only time he visits be when I’m not there?” Tommy muttered, mostly to himself.
“I don’t know, I’m sure he has a reason.” Dream said. As Tommy placed the ore into the furnace and lit the coals, he could have sworn he heard the slightest bit of sympathy in Dream’s voice.
After a moment, Tommy stood up from his place in front of the furnace and walked out, Dream once again following behind him. As they walked out past the log arch, Tommy shivered. Exile had not been kind to him or his clothes; chilled air bit at the skin exposed by large rips in the knees of his pants and in the sleeves of his shirt. He dropped to the ground, crossing his legs and looking out over the ocean, beginning to pick at the grass. He pointedly ignored Dream who was staring at him intently. After some time of uncharacteristic silence on Tommy’s part, Dream moved away from him.
Before Tommy could register what he was doing, Dream had some obsidian in his hand and was laying a slab of it on the ground. Eyes widening, Tommy jumped to his feet in a panic.
“What are you doing, man?!” Tommy cried, dashing over to stand in front of him. Dream cocked his head to the side.
“Making it easier for people to visit you.” He said, nudging Tommy out of the way before finishing off the portal frame. A click of Dream's flint and steel later and a warbling purple portal flickered to life before them.
"Why?" Tommy asked, looking up at the portal, dumbfounded. Dream shrugged, moving to stand in front of Tommy. He reached out to place a hand on Tommy's shoulder, bent over slightly to be face to face.
"Because we're friends, right?" Dream's grip was just tight enough to make his stomach drop, filling him with the urge to run away. The portal's purple light cast menacing shadows across Dream's mask. Tommy audibly swallowed, eyes flicking to the side.
"Sure, Dream. Of course."
---
Every other day since the day of Tommy’s exile, Dream would visit him. Every other day he’d be there as Tommy returned to his tent, a hole already dug, awaiting Tommy’s hard-earned tools and armor. Every other day he’d stay for a few hours, just talking to Tommy as he regained his lost materials.
Dream quickly became a constant, something solid in Tommy’s shaky routine, if you could even call it that. Only two and a half weeks had passed, but every time Dream came by, Tommy’s compliance came just a bit easier.
Early on a chilly Saturday, Tommy’s return to his tent was welcomed by Dream.
“Go on Tommy, you know the drill by now.” Dream was waiting by a pit in the ground, axe in one hand, TNT in the other.
Tommy sighed, but shed his new iron armor nonetheless and dropped it in. Dream gently whacked him with the flat of his weapon.
“Your axe too.”
“Of course,” Tommy mumbled, tossing it into the pit as well. Dream rummaged around in his pockets for a second before looking back at Tommy.
“Light it, will you? I forgot my flint and steel.”
“I don’t want to.” Tommy groaned, but there was no defiance in his voice, the response just hard-wired into him at this point. He got out his own flint and steel, lighting the fuse.
Dream shoved him away from the hole as a familiar explosion shook the ground. Tommy just stared on with dull eyes, before turning and walking away. Dream walked just behind him.
“You know Tommy, I just woke up and came straight to see you.” There was a smile in Dream’s voice, though Tommy couldn’t see it.
“Why?” Dream grabbed Tommy’s shoulder and turned him to make eye contact.
“Because we’re friends!” Were they really? Why was he beginning to believe it? He hated Dream, right?
When had Dream become the steadiest figure in his life?
Dream stayed with Tommy for a few hours, talking with him as he began to hack away at tree trunks. He spoke extensively about L’manburg and how well it was doing (without him). Noon came and went, Tommy going to sit in his tent for a break as Dream stepped through the portal down the path.
Soon, a certain ghost stepped through the portal himself, a smile on his face and guitar in hand. He walked up the path to Tommy’s tent and poked his head inside. There he found Tommy, neck bent awkwardly against his rickety makeshift bed frame, dozing lightly. Wilbur’s smile fell for a moment at the sight of the frown etched on his face and the dark circles under his eyes.
Wilbur pulled his head back out and turned to face the ocean. The smile returned to his face as he sat down and began to fiddle with the strings of his guitar. After a while, Tommy came out of the tent and startled at the sight of Wilbur. Wilbur tilted his head up to look at him with a grin.
“Hi, Tommy!” Wilbur gave a little wave. Tommy sighed.
“Hello Ghostbur,” Tommy dropped to sit next to him. Wilbur slung a cold arm around his shoulders, leaning against him slightly.
“So Tommy, I noticed you’ve been a bit down lately,” Wilbur started, putting his guitar to the side. “And it seems that not even the Blue has been helping you much, so I thought to myself ‘What would cheer Tommy up?’ And I think I’ve got it!”
“Yeah? What’ve you got big man?” Tommy asked with a yawn.
“I was thinking that we throw a little party!” Wilbur smiled, gesturing at the shore, “You’ve got a nice little beach here and everything! I mean, it is getting quite chilly, but it’s still got a nice view!”
“Wilbur, I don’t think Dream would be too pleased with that,” Tommy mumbled, but Wilbur dismissed him with a wave.
“I already pitched the idea to him when we crossed paths in the nether. He said it was fine by him as long as he was allowed to come.” Tommy’s eyes brightened marginally.
“He said it was okay? You’re sure?” Wilbur smiled again, pulling out some paper and a quill.
“Mmh hmm. We could get to writing up invites now if you want. Dream told me he’d even help deliver them!”
The next day was a busy one for Tommy. Instead of spending his time down in the mines like usual, he set to work sprucing up his campsite in high spirits.
He managed to make a few simple wooden lounge chairs, a table, and a few other items one would generally find at a beach. He put up lights, doing his best to balance aesthetics and ability to keep mobs at bay.
After ensuring the area was presentable, Tommy retired to the cabin in Logsted and set to work repairing his clothes, as best as he could anyway. After a quick midday nap, he set out to a nearby stream to wash as much dirt and coal dust out of his clothes as he could manage. Unable to make a dent in the bloodstains but satisfied for the time being, he then dunked his head under the cold water attempting the same for his hair. After some swearing at the temperature and a good amount of scrubbing with his hands, he’d look more like he’d been in the wilderness for just a few days rather than a few weeks, if not for the scrapes, burns, and bruises that covered him.
As he looked at what he’d accomplished that day, he couldn’t help but feel a little better, knowing that he wouldn’t be alone for much longer.
---
So much for feeling better. Tommy should have known it was too good to be true.
On the day and time he and Wilbur had arranged for the meetup, he was still terribly alone. After everything he’d done in preparation, after all that anticipation, it was all for nothing.
Does anyone still care?
Five, ten, then fifteen minutes after the time, he spotted someone on the horizon with a trident. As they drew nearer, Tommy could clearly make out who it was.
Dream.
As Dream made landfall and shook the water off his cloak, Tommy jogged over.
“Dream, buddy, hi!” Tommy greeted, voice slightly wobbly.
“Hello, Tommy.” Dream scratched at the back of his head, “Sorry I’m late.”
“That’s alright Dream,” Tommy said, suddenly wringing his hands together, “Ah, right sorry, I almost forgot.”
Tommy began to unstrap his armor, but Dream stopped him.
“You, uh, you don’t need to do that today.” Dream said to him. Tommy had confusion written on his face but began to re-tie the straps of the armor. When he was done, he looked back up at Dream.
“By the way, did you happen to see anyone on your way over?” Dream thought for a moment.
“Uh, no. Actually, I haven’t really seen anyone today.” Tommy visibly deflated.
“So… no one showed up then.” He mumbled to himself, voice cracking a bit as the realization dawned on him. Dream moved to put an arm around his shoulder.
“Oh, Tommy, I’m sorry,” Dream spoke with a sickeningly sweet tone. “Hey, I’m here right? We’re friends, Tommy, I’m here for you. It’s okay.”
“But what about Wilbur and Tubbo? Or Fundy and Quackity and Phil? Wilbur and I wrote out invitations the other day! How could they have missed them?” Dream gently squeezed his shoulder.
“Maybe they didn’t see them? Or maybe they were, like, super busy and couldn’t come?” Dream suggested, but Tommy’s expression was getting darker by the second.
Tommy pulled away from Dream’s grasp and started off to the portal. Dream called after him, but when he received no reply, he began to follow. He cleared the long obsidian path that spanned from his campsite to the base portal, ignoring the footfalls and shrieks of ghasts behind him. Dream found him in front of the portal, staring at something in his hand.
“Tommy?”
Tommy observed the compass in his hands with glazed over eyes, following the lazily spinning needle. His gaze traced the engraving in the side.
Your Tubbo
“Do you know about this compass, Dream?” Tommy spoke without turning.
“Uh, yeah, it points to Tubbo at all times, right? Tubbo had one that did the same for you.” Tommy’s shoulders stiffened suddenly.
“Had?” Dream shuffled a bit behind him.
“Yeah, I heard he lost it or burned it or something.” Tommy turned back to Dream, eyes wide.
“Are you sure?” Tommy almost whispered, voice nearly swallowed by the stifling windy heat of the nether. Dream nodded.
Without another word, Tommy moved to stand at the end of the blackstone platform. With his whole arm shaking, he took his compass and held it out over the gurgling lava below. He stared at it with an expression of pain, previously unnoticed tears making tracks in the ash on his face. Dream put a hand on his shoulder, pulling him away from the edge, and pushing the compass to his chest.
“Sleep on it, Tommy. Don’t make decisions that you might regret later.”
Tommy looked at the compass again, his hand still shaking. He looked up at Dream, teary-eyed, and nodded. Dream patted his shoulder.
As Tommy turned and walked back over the obsidian bridge, head hung low and shoulders slumped, Dream smiled to himself.
No one saw him take thirteen pristine invitations, written in Wilbur’s graceful loopy cursive, out of the bottom of his bag. No one saw him take a half-empty bottle of sleeping potion off his belt and toss it off the path.
No one bore witness to the thirteen papers fluttering gently to the hungry, bubbling lava, bursting into flames before they even hit the surface.