Chapter Text
The sky has always called to Tommy.
The sky has always called to him and he has always listened.
(Tommy follows his heart. He does what he wants, says what he thinks, and fights for what he believes in.
Tommy follows his heart.
So when it leads him to the front door of George's new holiday home,
what else is he to do but listen?)
Tommy has never really been afraid of heights. In fact, he rather enjoys them.
He builds towers, each one getting taller and ascending further into the clouds.
(Tommy lives on the edge. He puts everything on the line for seemly nothing at all. Doesn't think, doesn't learn.
No, Tommy never learns.
Tommy lives on the edge.
So it's inevitable that one day he'll fall.)
They call his towers things like "ugly" and "abysmal detriments and disservices to the commonwealth of society" but he isn't deterred. They don't quite understand, after all.
It's never been about how pretty they look or the location in which they stand (though that much is obvious).
They don't understand, Tommy decides.
(They don't understand why he can't just behave himself. To an extent, Tommy doesn't really either.
No one understands why Tommy can't behave, or stand still, or be silent.
But they don't see the walls.
They don't feel them always narrowly closing in, threatening to lock him inside and pry away his freedom.
Tubbo always understood. Yet, as Tommy beats against the walls and iron bars, Tubbo's exhausted gaze from the judges seat wavers, lacking comprehension.)
As he stands at the top of his towers and a chill wind faintly bites at his skin, carding through his hair and catching against his clothes, Tommy looks at the ground and laughs.
He's in control. He's free. He's home.
(Tommy just wishes he could feel even one of these things as Tubbo turns to him.
"Tommy, I'm so, so sorry." Tubbo almost laughs. It isn't like the rambunctious, mellow fits of laughter Tommy is used to. Rather, it is laced with grim realization and disbelief.
They stand on the obsidian wall that has been born of Tommy's resentment for regulation. That's what L'manburg has always been to Tommy, after all. Freedom .
Tubbo looks at him with something Tommy doesn't recognize and it's like the floor gives away beneath his feet.)
The sky calls to him and sings a gentle melody in his ears, so different from his own frequently hollering, and he listens.
(But for a moment, the sky doesn't call to him.
He listens.
Tommy listens as his best friend, the one person he thought he'd always have, the one person he thought was his, finally gives up on him.
Tommy can do nothing but listen as he is exiled from the land he's fought for by the one who he's fought for.
He listens—it's all he can do.
And the sky doesn't call to him.)
Tommy chases after every gust of wind, every sweet nothing the sky whispers to him. He follows the call and builds towers, high and proud, just to stand atop them and leave his mark. It's all below him now; the ground, the wars, his thoughts.
Even the clouds are on their knees beneath him.
So he laughs, mocking a world that tries to cage him and force him to conform.
He's in control now.
The wind blows against Tommy, his heart beats out of his chest and vibrates in his ears, the breeze cards through his hair, and he laughs.
He feels so alive.
(Despite the lava simmering hundreds of feet below him, it's warmth radiates against his feet that recklessly dangle off the edge. He feels the warmth bite against his skin and fringe the ends of his hair.
It sings to him too.
Its song is lower, more ominous than the sweet sound of the sky.
It puts thoughts in his head that don't belong there and gives him impulses that make his stomach churn.
He knows it's probably best not to listen.
But not a lot of people talk to him these days.
Tommy's so cold, but also far too warm. With every laboured, uneven breath he takes, smoke slips into his lungs and makes his chest tighten painfully.
He feels so alive.
Far too alive.
A hand grips his shoulder and less than gently pulls him back from the ledge.)
Time begins to blur during his exile, but that's ok, Tommy doesn't have much use for it anymore. He's going to be here forever.
He tried to be optimistic for a whole, like, two days, but it was becoming increasingly more obvious Dream would never let him leave and Tubbo would never take him back.
(Ghostbur keeps him company on the island for a while. It's fitting really, that it should be the two of them again, together against the world in exile.
He doubts Ghostbur remembers much about their first exile, what with the whole 'selective amnesia' thing. But Tommy remembers.
He remembers everything.
Specifically, he remembers thinking how things could not possibly get any worse. They'd lost L'manburg, everyone turned against them, he was separated from Tubbo—
He decides that this time is much, much worse.
The difference this time is that Wilbur is able to leave whenever he wants and also very dead.
Unfortunately, Tommy is neither of those things.
He finds it ironic [and not to mention slightly annoying] that Ghostbur, a dead man, a literal ghost, seems more alive than he is.
Ghostbur helps him gather resources and makes everything look pretty. He is considerably less crotchety than last time so he supposes that is an improvement.
The roles seem to be reversed this exile because Wilbur is the one always trying to cheer him up.
"—and I thought, what does Tommy really, really like?" Wilbur says one day as he hands him a small item, carefully wrapped in silky cloth.
Tommy ignores Wilbur's jovial and anticipant rambles and slowly unravels the cloth from around the gift to reveal a compass.
'Your Tubbo' is engraved into the metal and Tommy's face screws up.
"Tommy, I know you really, really like Tubbo, and I know you really, really miss him. So, I went out of my way and made you this."
Wilbur is still talking but Tommy can't listen.
He just stares at the object in his hands.
"It points you to Tubbo at all times!"
He puts it away immediately. Perhaps because it hurts too much to look at.
Or maybe because he knows it's no use to him, he isn't able to follow it anyways.
Or maybe, just maybe, because he knows deep down that it's the most valuable thing to ever pass into his hands.
"...thank you." He mumbles distantly, knowing this was probably not the reaction the poor ghost was looking for.
Nevertheless, Ghostbur looks satisfied and shoots him a bright smile.
He stops visiting him eventually.)
(A couple of his friends do come to see him a time or two. Some of them come out of pity, and others come just to mock him.
Even if they did have only good intentions,
Tommy wishes they had had them sooner.
In the end, Tommy spends all his time alone wishing for company.
When company comes, he spends all his time wishing they'd leave.
He wonders why their presence makes him feel even more alone.)
If Tommy thought he couldn't possibly lose anything else, then he curses himself as Logstedshire is promptly blown to bits.
(He's lost L'manburg, he's lost his discs, he's lost his brothers, he's lost Tubbo.
No one except Dream really comes to visit him more than once.
No one except Dream comes to see him out of anything but pity and curiosity.
No one comes to his beach party.
No one cares about him.
No one is here.
Except Dream of course.
And for now, he figures, that'll have to be enough.)
Small shards of plaster and stone violently burst in every direction and sections of burning cloth from his tent slowly sink through the air onto the singed grass. The fire rages, slowly devouring the hundreds of logs placed around his camp.
Tommy kneels in front of the broken splinters of obsidian that lay scattered across the ground. It'll be a long time until he sees his precious prized belongings again.
There is nowhere he is welcome.
(That isn't something he didn't already know but it's only now starting to set in.)
Dream ignores Tommy's desperate pleas to 'please just not leave him alone here' as if he hadn't heard them. Tommy apologizes and begs on his knees before the man he's sworn to be his enemy.
(Tommy doesn't beg. Or, at least, he hasn't ever before.)
And Dream leaves him alone in the rumble.
He has no one.
Not his friends, not his family, not Tubbo.
And he has never had Dream.
(Tommy isn't proud of it, but he warms up to Dream. He lets him walk by his side while he mines and chats with him about everything under the sun.
His armor is a small price to pay for the company.
He doesn't quite know what's happening, no, not yet. But he does notice some things.
He notices how Dream never pities him like everyone else.
He notices how, while most of his friends only visit him once in a blue moon, Dream visits him constantly.
He notices how Dream starts to call him a friend.
He notices all these things and, despite everything he knows about Dream, doesn't heed them.
He takes Dream's lack of pity for respect, not apathy.
He figures Dream frequent presence is because he cares, not because he is always watching.
He believes Dream when he calls Tommy his friend, not thinking of how he never did before.
Tommy never learns.
Dream has already taken two of his lives after all,
why not go for the third too?)
Tommy isn't welcome here. No one cares about him or cares if he is alive or even wants him alive—
But the sky calls to him. He's welcome in the sky.
With all the scorched wreckage he can gather from Logstedshire's destruction, he builds the most flimsy and unstable tower he's ever built. It might just be the tallest yet.
His heart beats wildly as he shakingly stands, the tower shuddering beneath his weight.
It's all below him now; the clouds, the wars, his thoughts,
...the ground.
He stares at the ground and can't look away or muster a laugh.
He stares at the ground and for the first time he's terrified.
Tommy doesn't feel in control or free or at home—
He wonders when the ground started calling to him too.
It's song isn't sweet and triumphant like the sky or low and ominous like the lava.
No, the ground's song starts off soft and slow. Barely a whisper but still managing to drown everything else out.
It's peaceful and alluring.
It's welcoming.
Slowly, the ground's soft, quiet hum grows louder and faster, putting thoughts in his head that don't belong there and impulses that make his stomach churn.
There's no voice to talk him down or hand to grab his shoulder.
The ground calls to him, demanding he jumps into its waiting, welcoming arms.
No one has come to see him, no one cares about him, and no one one wants him (he's starting to wonder if anyone ever has). The song is blaring so loudly. The wind whips at his tattered cloths and through his hair. The drums beats harder and more fervently, getting faster and faster—
...Then it stops. Leaving only the faintest note behind to fade into nothingness.
Tommy isn't cared for, or loved, or wanted.
But since when has he ever done anything people wanted?
Tommy shakingly climbs down his tower with no intention to give the world, or ground, or Dream what they want.
He leaves behind nothing but a pillar that sways with the breeze and ascends into the high heavens. He leaves and this time, it's on his own terms.
Tommy leaves and he feels alive.
("—to revoke the citizenship of Wilbur Soot and Tommyinnit!"
All eyes land of Tommy, crushing them beneath their weight. Hundreds of emotions flood through him, and he can't move, he's stuck, he's trapped, he's hyperventilating—
"Tommy, Tommy, run!"
His senses slam back into him and there are hands reaching out to grab him, and arrows firing at him, and voices screaming not only in his ears but in his head—
Wilbur and Tommy leave L'manburg, they run from it as fast as they can.
It isn't on his own terms.
They leave and he wishes he didn't feel so alive.)
His breath freezes in the air in front of him as he trudges through the icy tundra. Tommy rubs at his arms and pulls what's left of his tattered shirt snuggly around him. The snow gracefully falling from the heavens coats the grass for miles all around.
Tommy dares to glance at his numb, frozen, shoeless foot, oh you know, just to make sure it's still there, and mumbles curses under his breath.
He is freezing.
But despite the frost, he decides it was much colder on the island.
Finally, in the far distance, he sees a glow on the horizon, bathing the arctic tundra in a bit warmth.
(It wasn't looking good.
On second thought, that was far too generous.
Things were actually going quite miserably.
Time had blurred as they ran through the forest, but that was ok.
He didn't really want to remember this evening anyways.
[But, oh, how he would.]
Frantically, Tommy grabs a quill and scrawls out on the back of a crumpled ballet he'd found in his trousers.
An invitation, an opportunity, a plea.)
He's immediately met with warmth upon bursting into Technoblade's home uninvited. It wasn't safe or wise but he was desperate to get out of the cold.
In an unprecedented turn of events, the universe decides to give him a break.
Techno wasn't here.
Tommy isn't quite sure what he was going to do if he had been, he hadn't thought that far yet. He slams the door shut, locking the snow and frost outside, and immediately goes to warm himself by the fire.
It isn't quite what he'd pictured Techno's home to look like. In all honesty he'd expected a lot more blackstone, lava, and death-traps—not something quite so...cozy.
He certainly isn't complaining, though.
He holds out his hands, probably a little too close, lets his eyelids fall, and leans back right onto a chest. Funnily enough, there were actually many chests (even an enderchest where he could get his discs and compass).
It couldn't hurt, right?
Tommy is already a fugitive. His very presence is outlawed essentially everywhere. He has absolutely nothing to lose.
Plus, this was the man that murdered his best friend.
(He had once been his brother too.)
A wicked grin spreads wide across Tommy's face as he throws the chest open and sifts recklessly through the contents.
Things were finally looking up.
("Did somebody say rebellion?"
Technoblade is a myth, even to his family. He disappears and reappears seemingly out of thin air, never letting anyone get too close.
But Technoblade always comes through when you need him most, Tommy thinks as the man stands in all of his glory before him.
Techno reappears when he is needed the most and Tommy looks to him like he’s hung the moon.)
After warming up and welcoming himself to all of his brother's belongings, Tommy decides to take a look around the little cottage.
The upstairs is a little too cramped for Tommy's liking but he can see how it could be considered very cozy. There's a bookshelf accompanied by an enchanting table and an unmade bed. He begins to climb down the ladder to what he assumes is the basement, and is met by a bone-chilling moan. A shiver runs up his spine and he freezes, grip tightening on the rungs of the ladder.
What the…?
Eventually, when he regains control of his body again, he slowly lowers himself down the ladder. The groans grow louder and more frequent as he descends further down. His bare foot meets the cold stone first and Tommy hesitantly turns around.
He's always known Technoblade was a creep—a sociopath in his humble (correct) opinion—but this was reaching whole new levels of disturbing.
Multiple undead villagers bellow and groan from where they've been imprisoned in his brother's basement, lethargically slumping against the iron bars that contain them. Tommy's heart-rate spikes as he slowly creeps across the room to the chests he's spotted, ignoring how their bloodshot eyes lock onto him. After what feels like miles, Tommy makes it to the chest, and upon one glance at the items inside decides it was worth it. Tommy's joy upon finally hitting a stroke of good luck does come with a pang of annoyance however.
Why on earth has he been doing "honest" work his whole life when he could've just been stealing from other people who do the hard work for him?
A moan omits from the cell besides where Tommy riffles through the chests, distracting him from his newly acquired fortune. Tommy shoots the zombie villager a glare.
"Stop looking at me you absolute-"
Tommy shrieks as a sickly hand brushes against his arm, jumping away from the beast reaching through the bars of a cell he'd neglected to notice in his indignation and reaching for the sword he'd pilfered from upstairs. Without thinking, he wildly slashes at the creature, sending it flying back at the contact, crashing into the wall of its small cell. Its body bursts into flames and erupts into a puff of smoke. He stares in shock for a moment before putting the sword back at his hip and brushing off his hands.
"You best watch out or you'll be next." He smugly informs the remaining undead villager beside him.
He turns his attention back to the chest. There's more wealth than he's ever see in this cabin, far more than he can carry on him. The gears in his head turn.
What if…?
There's no way…
Unless…
Tommy scours the unfinished basement floor. It's stone. Most of it's a bit loose.
Maybe if he…
Reaching into the chest, Tommy grabs a gleaming enchanted pickaxe and drives it straight into the ground. A strip of stone almost instantly crumbles as the pickaxe strikes it.
Tommy glances down the pit he's created and feels something he hasn't felt in a long time.
(He hears commotion outside one day. An accursed melody of metal, and yelling, and chaos, and war blare in his eardrums and reverberate throughout his head.
He almost thinks some of the screams sound like his friends. Tommy hasn't seen his friends in a while. At least, it feels like it's been a long time. He doubts he even remembers what they sound like.
The urge to peek out of his hole is a strong one, but instead he pulls the blanket over his head and tries to fall asleep.
He's used to hearing things by now.)
Admittedly, it's not his finest work but it'll do the trick.
Tommy successfully carves a room beneath the basement of the cottage. He rolls out a bed, creates some chest to hold the loot he's stolen, and even makes a place for the one precious log he'd managed to save from Logstedshire. It's a little cramped, and he's less than thrilled to be living underground again, but it's on his own terms.
He's in control.
He feels more at home than he has in a long time.
(New L'manburg doesn't quite feel like home.
He never, ever, intends to tell Tubbo that, because he knows how much of himself Tubbo has poured into rebuilding it.
It isn’t Tubbo’s fault. It could never be Tubbo’s fault.
In all honesty, Tommy didn’t know who to blame.
He so badly wants to remember Wilbur the way he was before his eyes grew crazed, and his movements became sharp, and he reeked of gunpowder.
He so badly doesn’t want to blame Wilbur.
So, he decides to blame Technoblade for taking his home away instead.)
(L'manburg is Tommy's for only a minute or two, but it's more than enough to know that Wilbur was right.
It's a possibility that has haunted him ever since Wilbur breathed it into his ear. It was barely audible, hardly above a whisper but managed to echo all through the dark ravine and bury itself straight into his heart like a knife.
But as Tommy stands on the podium, looking out at all the faces he knows every detail of and taking in the L'manburg he has fought so valiantly for—he realizes Wilbur was right, and that's ok.
He doesn't really think or dwell on it for more than a moment.
Tommy never really does too much thinking.
No, instead he feels.
He feels the full weight of a country and its citizens' well-being, he feels the expectations of the entire world fall to his shoulders, and he feels the loss of everything he has ever sacrificed for this place.
...And Tommy isn't sure if he has anything else to give it.
Tommy may never learn but that doesn't mean he isn't a lot smarter than people give him credit for.
And Tommy knows that he'll never be able to be confined or contained, at least not willingly.
It really only takes him a second to realize that he shouldn't be president. Shouldn't. Can't. Won't.
The sky calls to him, after all.
[However, what Tommy doesn't realize yet is that L'manburg has never been his home. It’s never loved him back like he loves it.
Deep down Tommy believes that, maybe, if he is brave enough, if he sacrifices enough, if he is enough, L’manburg will take him as her own.
L’manburg takes his life, his discs, his innocence, and his best friend.
He isn’t welcome.
And it’s never truly been his home.])
Tommy gets somewhat of a grasp on Technoblade's schedule (if you could even call it that) during the first week he's there. He's overjoyed to discover that the man is rarely around so most of the time he has the place completely to himself. As much as he is proud of the nook he's built, he can't deny it's much warmer resting by the fireplace.
However, with Techno's frequent absence, comes his sporadic and unpredictable arrivals.
(He's only been here for a few days but Tommy thinks he's finally pinned down the man's schedule.
So, as he lounges about listening to one of his music discs one evening, he's rather alarmed to hear footprints in the snow. Tommy very abruptly yanks the disc from the jukebox and flies down the ladder, quietly pulling the stone covering over his nook as he hears the door open.
He's been considerably more careful since then.)
Tommy learns a lot about his brother while squatting in his basement.
The first being that he doesn't sleep and when he does it's only for minutes at a time.
Second being that the piglin-hybrid was far less exciting and menacing than he thought he was. Tommy wasn't sure what he was expecting from Techno but it definitely involved more violence and evil monologues, and less mindless mumbling and self-depreciation.
("Who put wheat in here? Ugh, classic Phil…" Tommy hears Techno mumble one day. He is barely able to suppress a cackle.)
Philza's around a lot more than Tommy would've guessed. He supposes it makes since really, as he did frequently dismiss himself for long periods of time back in L'manburg.
(He tries to ignore how his heart swells when he hears his father's laughter upstairs.)
The one constant semblance of structure in his brother's life, that Tommy can tell at least, is the regular evenings he spends with Philza.
They relax, and cook, and laugh.
(He tries to ignore how his heart longs to join them. But, Tommy's never been good at ignoring his heart. In fact, all he's ever known is to follow it.)
(It's ironic really, that Techno remains the closest to their father.
He remembers how upset he'd been when Techno announced he'd be leaving home to travel new lands and compete against challengers on his capability.
He had seen the fire in his brother's eyes as he spoke of the world in which he planned to go. A world he intended to conquer.
He remembers how Wilbur insisted he didn't care, growing distance and irritable, yet, still insisting it was a horrible idea. Their relationship was never quite the same [at least, not until years later when the two bond over terrorism and TNT].
He remembers sad acceptance in Philza's eyes. The man had known it was only a matter of time. Techno was still young, too young to be out on his own, but he was skilled, perhaps the most skilled fighter he had ever seen.
Philza had known this was inevitable, he's seen the longing in his son's eyes, the wild look he gets when he fights, and knows he'd be doing a disservice to hold him back [he doubts he even could].
Phil had no doubt in his mind that wherever Techno went, he'd conquer.
It's ironic. Techno may have been the first to leave, but he's the first to come back home too.)
Tommy misses the sky on the days Techno is home.
He can still hear its song but it's muffled and too quiet.
It's hardly been a week but Tommy starts to feel trapped. His lungs get a little tighter and he doesn't feel in control anymore.
That just won't do.
So he digs a tunnel out of his secret room. It surfaces with the house still in distance but far enough to remain inconspicuous.
Tommy starts spending less and less time in the basement.
He's hardly been there a week when he gets discovered.
The bloodshot stare of undead villagers follow Tommy's every move as he makes his way across the basement.
"Oh, shut up." He grumbles, their wallows still startling him more than he cares to admit.
He thinks it's morning, or at least, that's what he'd naturally assumed as he'd just woken up.
Climbing the ladder and emerging onto the main floor of his house (Tommy isn't sure when, but at some point he just decided to claim the place since he's here far more than Techno anyways), he makes a beeline for the chests, grabbing a handful of potatoes and throwing them into the furnace.
Tommy glances out the window and realizes it's dark out.
He feels like that should mean something but he isn't sure what.
The furnace fills the room with a dim light. He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes.
He misses people.
He is much happier here than he was on that horrible island, but he still feels so alone.
He craves attention, and touch, and company-
He misses Tubbo a lot; even though he never came to visit him. Tommy wishes he could be angry at Tubbo. He doesn't really know why he can't be, he has no problem being angry at literally anybody else.
Even after everything, Tommy will still defend Tubbo no matter what. Even in his own head.
No matter how he is treated or wronged by those he loves the most, he will always wander back to them and stick by their side.
Tommyinnit doesn't give up on people.
And that has been, and will continue to be, his fatal weakness.
(Tommy stands by Wilbur's side faithfully and watches his rise to glory and slow, unnerving descent into madness.
He doesn't quite know what's happening, no, not yet. But he does notice some things.
He notices its best to leave Wilbur alone when his eyes grow restless and movements get jagged.
He notices it's best to not take Wilbur's words to heart. He's in a delicate state and doesn't mean them.
He notices that his grip is loosening on Wilbur, and that Wilbur's grip is loosening on his own mind.
Tommy stands by Technoblade's side and looks at him like he's hung the moon.
He notices Techno's indifference to most things.
He notices the man works obsessively and always has something up his sleeves.
He notices Technoblade has no loyalties. Not to their rebellion, and definitely not to him.
Tommy stands by Tubbo throughout everything they've ever faced. He stands loyal and unflinching by his side with Tubbo at his own.
He notices that revenge is not what Tubbo turns to when he is hurt. He much prefers company.
He notices Tubbo internalizes his feelings, barring them deep below the surface until he inevitably breaks beneath their weight.
He notices that Tubbo takes responsibility naturally and in stride, putting it above all else.
He notices all this things, but doesn't heed them.
He gets too close to Wilbur when he's in his moods and has the bruises to show it. He thinks too much about the words he says and lets them prod and keep him awake into the dead of night. He doesn't realize Wilburs gone until it's too late to reach out and grab him.
Tommy shares his passions and dreams with Techno and assumes he cares. He lets himself forget Technoblade doesn't lose and will always come out on top. He lets himself believe that his brother will fight beside him and help him take back their country. He lets himself believe that 'The Blade' is something that can be had or won to a certain side and not on he is on a side of his own.
Tommy notices Tubbo doesn't care for revenge but just can't stifle the anger he feels on behalf of his friend. It's always an accident, but he usually ends up leaving Tubbo alone when he needs him most, chasing after justice when all the other boy has ever wanted was for him to be there.
Tommy notices Tubbo isn't as vocal about his feelings as he is. He's lucky Tubbo is always honest with him or else he'd spend a lot of time trying to get to the bottom of the boy's actual thoughts. Tubbo doesn't stop, never properly lets himself grieve or cry or break. Tommy assumes, by the blank look in Tubbo's eyes when he yells and sends him away, that he's changed, not that he's just pushed his feelings down deep below, bidding them to inevitably resurface down the road.
He notices Tubbo puts his country first, above his own belongings, above his own priorities, above his own life. Tommy notices this and still believes that to Tubbo, he comes first.
Tommy notices these things and doesn't learn.
No, Tommy never learns.)
Tommy's only been here a week.
Tommy's only been here a week and he's already lonely.
He doesn't hear the footprints in the snow outside or the creak of the door as it opens until he is face to face with his sworn enemy—
—Otherwise known as his brother.
Tommy's been here a week and he's already been discovered.
"You could at least knock first," Tommy offers, impulsively attempting to diffuse the situation. "Y'know", he turns to remove his potatoes from the oven, "you've got some nerve to just-"
"Why are you in my house?" The words are spoken far to calmly to not be preceding an outburst. Techno doesn't move a single inch and watches him with deadly precision. If completely out of habit, a single, uneasy laugh subconsciously erupts from Tommy's throat.
"Well," Tommy clears his throat, "this is a bit awkward." He spouts.
Techno stares at him with a completely unreadable expression. Intense, but unreadable nonetheless.
For an eternity the two just stand there, unmoving and staring at each other.
Tommy glaces at the window from the corner of his vision and then back to Techno.
It happens in a split second.
He plunges out of the window, throwing himself against the panes of glass and wooden shutters, shattering them.
His blood is pumping and his bones rattle as he slides down the roof and lands in the snow bank outside the cottage. He makes a mad dash for the hills but evidently isn't quick enough as he is grabbed by the collar of his tattered shirt and slammed against wall of the home.
Admittedly, Tommy knows Techno could've slammed him much harder if he wanted too, but he still find the gesture rude.
"I'm going to ask you again, Tommy. Why are you here?" Techno practically growls.
Tommy gulps.
"Alright, alright." Tommy moves to push the man off him to no avail. "Let go of me first yo-"
"No, no. You clearly do not have the advantageous positioning here. Explain first and then I'll consider lettin' you go."
"That's not fair at all! I-" Tommy continues to struggle before letting out a frustrated groan.
"Ugh, fine! I was minding my own business in Logstedshire, it got blown up, I figured, 'why on earth should I stay here' and left."
Technoblade's grip eases a bit but doesn't relinquish.
"You're tellin' me, when you literally could've gone anywhere else in the world, you show up here?" Techno flatly questions, lacking any real hostility but abundant in disbelief.
"Believe me, you were certainly not my first choice." Tommy spits. Technoblade rolls his eyes. Tommy goes to say something else, an insult, or explanation, or apology, but ultimately falters, leaning his forehead against the wall.
"Techno...I've got nowhere else to go." He somberly whispers, voice low. Studying him intently, Technoblade releases the boy from his grip, allowing him to go free. He watches him with caution and scrutiny however, prepared to grab him all over again at the first sign of threat. Tommy rolls out his neck and rubs at his collar bone
"So," Techno sighs. "How long've you been here for?" He drags his hand down the side of his face and submits to the inconvenience of this whole situation.
"Oh, about a week or so." Tommy says casually, walking back up the stair and into the house.
"You've been here for a week?!"
Tommy's only been here for a week when he's discovered, but he already feels more free.
"You've been living underneath my house?!"
Techno stares in complete and utter disbelief in his basement. The various mobs he's collected make a racket but he can't be torn away from the floor.
Specifically, the hole in his basement floor that he didn't put there.
"I can't believe this!" He yells.
Tommy's expression falls somewhere between self-congratulatory and terrified.
"Well, you should with your terrible observational skills." Tommy calls as he disappears further into the hole. "Follow me, I'll give you the official house tour!"
Techno grumbles but follows him into the hole. "Number one, this is my house, and number two-" he stops when he makes it to the bottom of the ladder, observing Tommy rummaging through one of his chests.
"Are those my things? Have you been stealin' from me? What is this!" Techno shouts.
"I don't know what you're on about." Tommy dismisses flippantly.
"This is literally the definition of a parasitic relationship!" Techno yells in incredulity.
"You and your big fancy words. I bet you don't even know what they mean. 'Oh, I'm Technoblade, I'm so smart! I know big word!'"
"Bruh. Here I am, graciously waiting for my tour, and getting insulted by the tour guide. This is ridiculous."
"You...you actually want the tour?" Tommy questions sceptically.
"I'm here, aren't I?"
Tommy's face eagerly lights up.
(The entire cliffside shifts. The ground beneath his feet rumbles and Tommy frantically glances at his brother—
His brother is smiling.
A section of the mountain begins to collapse and Technoblade fearless parades forward through the dust that's emerged from whatever it is that's happening to the mountain. Tommy can't make himself follow, instead squeezing his eyes shut and coughing into the crook of his elbow.
When Tommy finally dares to open his eyes, the dust has settled, leaving his brother standing there with his arms held out wide.
A newly unveiled fortress stands behind him.
[And what do you know, there's all the blackstone.]
Tommy gapes and sputters for a moment and the satisfaction in his brother's expression only grows as he looks him right in the eyes.
"Welcome home, Theseus."
Techno turns, his robes whipping behind him, and heads further into the mountain side.
"It's my turn to give you a tour.")
Him and Technoblade come to an agreement. They aren't buddies or pals, and Tommy has no intention of destroying L'manburg's government, but he agrees to help Techno in return for the man's help in retrieving his discs and giving him a place to stay.
They aren't buddies or pals, but they are brothers.
(He tries not to listen.
He tries so hard not to dwell on his Techno's words.
"Does he think of you the same way, Tommy?" Techno says to him.
He tries not to listen, oh, how he tries, but it's hard when his worst fears and suspicions are being ripped straight from the darkest corners of his mind—where he locks them away and denies them —and suddenly revealed audibly for the whole world to hear.
“You wanna be friends with Tubbo? You wanna know what’s driven you apart? Why you don’t have your discs? Because of the government! If there was no government you and Tubbo could be friends.”
He hates how much sense Techno makes.
His brothers have always had a knack for knowing the exact words that haunt him at night.)
Though begrudgingly, Techno allows him stay in the basement for the time being under the pretenses that firstly, he works for his keep; secondly, returns all he has stolen; thirdly, doesn't take anything else without permission; fourthly, does as he is told; and fifthly—
"—And please, Tommy, don't make me regret doin' this."
("You think you're a hero, Tommy?"
His brother stands menacingly across the crater; the fresh, gaping cavity gruesomely scarred the face of the land Tommy has loved so dearly.
Tommy has died twice to create this nation with Wilbur, and now, Wilbur has died to destroy it.
Tommy's already lost one brother today, and his heart pangs with sorrow and anguish because he knows he's destined to lose both.
The wretched crater separates him from his last brother. The horrid cavity carved by violence, and vengeance, and glory pushes them apart once more.
Techno stands, tall and proud, pulling yet another card from up his sleeve and revealing what his hand has been the entire game to world.
This was the man who'd forged his legacy in blood.
This was the man who was spoken of with such reverence that many believed him only to be a myth.
This was the man who'd saved their rebellion, reappearing when he was needed the most.
This was the man who Tommy looked to as if he'd hung the moon.
"Then die like one!")
"Where did—Tommy give me the netherite back."
"No." Tommy says immediately, moving the dark ingot closer to his eye to inspect it.
Techno clenches his jaw and rubs his temples.
"Tommy, I am literally making this armor for you."
"I just don't see why I can't do it myself." The boy huffs.
Techno steps back from the smithing table and gestures to it.
"Be my guest."
Tommy proudly saunters up to the table.
"That's right! Step aside 'Blade' and let the men do the work! I'll show you how it's done. You see, Technoblade, this is why—"
The words just keep flowing from his mouth like lava. Techno hadn't realized just how much he'd been enjoying his new life of peace and quiet until this moment.
Tommy spiel has evidently ended by the time Techno tunes back in to reality and now, the boy just stands there looking puzzled.
"Uh, Techno?"
"Yes, Tommy?"
"I haven't got the slightest clue what I'm doing."
They make Tommy's armor together.
"Be on your best behavior." Techno sighs, trudging through the humid, burning dimension. Tommy scoffs, trailing behind him.
"I'm always on my best behavior."
"That...is the saddest thing I've ever heard."
They walk on for a while, taking in the blistering, infernal landscape. Though he'd never admit it, Techno has always found the nether beautiful in its own, dreadful way. That's probably just the piglin in him though.
Tommy’s new armor lightly jostles as he quickens his pace to walk alongside him.
“I’m actually banned from the Nether, you know.” Techno is informed by the boy.
“For good reason, I’d imagine.” He retorts back, not slowing down.
But Tommy matches his pace, persisting like a tick on a dog, driving his little, beaty teeth into his skin and refusing to let him go—
“Technoblade, you’re a real piece of work, you know that? Ugly too.”
Techno speeds up slightly and Tommy lets out a single, rambunctious, ear-piercing laugh.
“It’s no wonder you are so incredibly single. If I was a woman, I definitely wouldn’t date you.”
"That's a relief." Techno mutters under his breath.
"What was that?"
After rambling on for a while about how ‘a good haircut cut could really help his chances with the ladies’, Tommy finally strays from his side, sliding back behind him.
The peace is so immensely wonderful he almost wants to giggle with glee.
...he doesn’t do that though.
...it’d be insanely out of character and Tommy would absolutely never let him live it down.
But the peace is too wonderful. He notices that the soft, padding footsteps behind him have ceased and Tommy has been quiet for far too long for everything to be normal.
He finds him, standing on at the edge of a tall bluff, a little ways back on the trail.
Techno realizes it's probably a good thing Tommy was banned from the Nether. Obviously that didn't stop him from being here but it was a good idea in theory.
Tommy stands at the edge of the cliff, the tips of his boots dangling off the red rocks, sending pebbles tumbling into the abyss.
The lava reflects in the boy’s glossy eyes. He almost seems to implore with it.
Oh.
Techno sighs, yielding to the serious tone this trip apparently seemed to be taking.
"Tommy, I know we aren't on great terms right now, but you know you can talk to me if you want to."
"You'd just make fun of me." Tommy mutters, unmoving.
"Well, I mean, that is a likely possibility." He chuckles.
Tommy perceptibly winces away and Techno realizes that was probably the wrong thing to say.
"Sorry." He clears his throat and sits down on the ledge next to Tommy’s boots, legs dangling off the edge. "Look… I’m no good at these emotional ‘heart-to-hearts’ or whatever but…
—I know what it’s like to be alone too.”
That garners Tommy’s attention ever so slightly.
“You don't have to agree. And I'm...sorry things have gone the way that they have.” He sees out of the corner of his eye as Tommy pulls his gaze away from the boiling inferno beneath him and looks at him instead. The man’s eyes grow darker and he sighs.
“But just know that even though you still believe in silly things like 'structure' and 'government', we're in it together now, alright?”
Techno doesn’t push it, or add anything else, or even ask Tommy if he’s ok (Techno already knows the answer).
Rather, he just sits there, surveying the boiling inferno alongside his brother for what might be hours. Techno’s breath hitches when he feels Tommy finally move, very nearly reaching out to wrestle him away from the cliff side but instead the boy lowers himself to sit besides him. He lets out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding.
“Thanks, Techno.” It’s barely a whisper, spoken low, and quiet, and vulnerable.
He pushes down the voices and fury that demand for the blood of whoever broke this boy (for now, at least), instead treasuring the meek words of thanks.
They sit silently on the high bluff, dangling their legs off the cliffside that hangs dangerously above the lava lake, and they survey the horrendous nether landscape that Techno has learned to find beautiful.
It’s a long time before either of them speak again.
“Ready to head home?”
Tommy nods and pushes himself up with a shudder. He begins to walk away from the edge and back to the trail when Techno calls out to him.
"Oh, and Tommy," He calls.
The boy in question turns back to face him, inquiry and worry sketched in his features.
They aren't buddies or pals, but they are brothers.
"Sometimes, the lava talks to me too."
They sneak into L'manburg.
He'd dreamed of this place every night and now he was here again.
And it feels so wrong
Tommy doesn't know if he's ever seen the server look so nice.
(Maybe, he really was a liability.)
They stumble through the sewers. He reckons it hasn't even been a year since he built them but so much has happened since then. So much has been lost.
(The tunnel starts looking familiar but he can't quite remember why.
Then he sees the blackstone.
He sees the sees the sign, and the button, and the chest that still has his name carefully engraved into the wood,
—he sees these things and promptly hyperventilates.
The walls are collapsing in on him. There is screaming, and chaos, and swords, and fire, and laughter—
Invisible bodies are flooding into the small, cramped room.
He can't think, or feel, or process what's happening. His attempts to raise his sword and defend himself are pathetic and futile.
All he sees is Dream's mask and its eternal smile.
All he hears is the terrified screams of his friends and that stupid laughter.
All he feels is the sword slipping through his ribcage like it was made to fit there.
He's never died before but he immediately knows thats what's happening.
"It was never meant to b—"
"Woah there, Tommy. Ease up a bit, will ya?"
His hands quiver. There's blood on them.
"Tommy, what happened here?"
Dream looms over him, giving the sword an extra shove—
"Are you even lucid?"
His hands are shaking but there's no blood.
"Tommy, it's fine, we don't have to build the bunker here."
"Let's...let's find somewhere else."
He misses the sky down here.)
He's reluctant to leave L'manburg but Techno promises they'll return soon.
They go back to the cottage.
Techno protests, demands, and begs he doesn't,
but he builds a tower.
(The sky sings and it almost feels like home.)