Work Text:
Tommy used to think that murder was never justified. That it was evil and cold-blooded, that you had to have no soul to kill another human being. He thought that until he went to war, where he learnt that it was just how he had to survive. That he had to kill to live, that other people had to die so he wouldn't. Tommy learnt that killing wasn't always something done out of evilness, but rather out of survival. He learnt that murder wasn't just because had no heart, but it was because he wanted to live. Tommy learnt a lot of things when he went to war, and he thinks that his definition of justice might be a little twisted.
Tommy stands above the bodies of George and Sapnap, listening to Dream's anguished screams. "Well," Tommy scoffs, turning to stare down at the masked man. "Maybe you shouldn't have killed my best friend." He smiles, leaning against the side of the house George and Sapnap had been staying in. He didn't make them suffer, no, neither of them deserved that. Even if Tommy hated them for what they did, he had a begrudging respect for the two of them. Tommy didn't need to make them suffer to prove his point. They weren't the ones who had hurt him, no, that was Dream. Tubbo hadn't deserved to suffer, and yet he had. Tommy is better than Dream, he always has been and he always will be. His morals might be skewered and twisted, but only in the ways that don't matter.
He made sure that he killed George and Sapnap twice, making sure that they couldn't recover fast enough from their first deaths to fight him. He shoves his hands in his pockets as he listens to Dream scream and sob, clutching George and Sapnap's clothes, holding his two friends to his chest. His mask is half-fallen off, and Tommy can see his tears, the red around his eyes. Blood is smeared across the pale white mask, and Tommy can't help but smile a little. Dream deserves this. He fucking deserves this and so much more, and it's all his fucking fault that Sapnap and George are dead now.
"You son of a bitch," Dream chokes on his cries, his knuckles bone white from how hard he's gripping the bodies of his friends. "You fucking son of a bitch!" He screams, throwing his mask to the side, standing up quickly. He stumbles forwards, tripping on his own feet. Dream falls to the ground, his chest rising and falling faster than it should. Tommy watches him carefully. He moves away from the house, moving to stand in front of the man who ruined his life. "They didn't do anything! They didn't do anything wrong!" Dream shouts, his eyes wide and crazed and furious. "What the fuck is wrong with you? Why them? Why the fuck did you have to hurt them? They didn't- they didn't.."
"Tubbo didn't deserve it, either," Tommy crouches down in front of the man, making eye contact. He remembers a time where he would have been scared to do so, and even as he thinks it, he feels his heart rate pick up. His throat seizes up and his hands start to shake, but he forces it back, he forces it all back. He can't drop his act now, not after all of this. "Tubbo didn't deserve to die, and yet.." Tommy stares at him, a coldness icing over his heart. "And yet he did. He's dead, Dream," Tommy stands back up, cracking his knuckles. "He's fucking dead!" He shouts, slamming his fist into Dream's face.
The man flies back, his back hitting Sapnap. He stares at Tommy, fear and anger shining in his features. "You.."
"Me," Tommy agrees, curling up his lip in disgust. "Me," he strides forwards, peering down at Dream. "It's always been me, hasn't it, Dream? It's always been me. You're scared of me, that's why you try to kill me, that's why you tried to hurt me," Tommy smiles, turning his head to the side. "That's why you tried to control me. I'm the only thing you're scared of, and I think that's nice," he snorts. "It's nice, Dream. It's nice to know that you're scared of me," Tommy crosses his arms, swaying back and forth on his feet. "You're just a little bitch, you know that? You're a fucking coward. You couldn't even manage to fucking kill me, could you?"
"Shut up," Dream snarls, gripping the ground. "Shut the fuck up. You couldn't kill me, so you-"
"No," Tommy holds up a hand, interrupting the man. Dream's jaw snaps shut, and Tommy can't deny the rush that gives him. He's finally got all the power. He's the one in control here, not Dream. "No, that was on purpose, Dream. You think I can't kill you?" He laughs, raising an eyebrow. "No, I can. I definitely can. I killed them twice, they never stood a fucking chance. If I wanted to kill you," Tommy leans forwards, towering over the green bastard, "I would have."
Dream stares at him, a sneer twisting its way onto his lips. "I don't believe you."
"A shame," Tommy steps back. "'Cause I believe me. And I don't think I've been wrong once. If I killed you," Tommy starts, "that wouldn't have meant anything. You'd just come back. I'd feel a bit of satisfaction, yeah, but come on," he snorts. "Big man, do you really think that's enough? No. You had to hurt the same way I did. How does it feel, Dream? To lose your best friends. To have them die, and there's nothing you can do about it. Does it feel nice, Dream? Does it make you happy, does it make you feel like you're in control? Or are you sad?" Tommy asks, curling his lip up in disgust. "You seemed pretty sad when you found their bodies."
"Shut up!" Dream shouts, slamming his fist on the ground. "Shut the fuck up!" He yells, and Tommy can't help but feel perfectly at ease, calmness washing over him. Dream doesn't scare him, not anymore. Dream used to, he used to be terrifying. Tommy used to be so, so scared of him, but he isn't, not anymore. He looks down at the older man, seeing nothing but a scared, husk of a man. There's nothing to be scared of, Tommy decides. "..Going to kill you." Dream whispers, almost to himself.
"Then do it," Tommy crouches down in front of him, refusing to move away. "Fucking kill me, Dream. Do it. Do you think I really want to be here?" He asks, cocking his head to the side. Tommy knew that killing Dream's only friends in the entire world would provoke him. He knew that, he knew that it'd make Dream fly into a fit of rage and it would make Dream kill him. "Do it, Dream," Tommy urges. "I'm not going to stop you."
Dream stands up, painstakingly slowly. Tommy does the same. He's at eye level with Dream, and Tommy can't hide his smirk. Dream isn't smiling, he looks pissed. Controlled, almost. But Tommy knows better, he knows that he's the only one in control here. Dream is going to do exactly as Tommy tells him to, and he knows that. "There's no afterlife after this," Dream snarls, his voice low. "You heard what Ghostbur said."
"His name is Wilbur," Tommy corrects. "And I don't remember you being God, Dream," Tommy leans forwards, grinning. "Unless you are. Can God not control a child?"
He hisses when he feels a sharp pain in his stomach, looking down at the blade in his gut. Tommy stumbles forwards, planting his hand on Dream's shoulder, trying to steady himself. "When you die," Dream whispers, his voice rough and filled with rage, "I'll meet you at the gates of hell." Tommy snorts, pushing himself away from the man.
"Okay, Dream," Tommy grins, coughing when he speaks. He feels blood trickle down the side of his mouth, reaching up to wipe it off. Dream steps back, taking his sword with him. Tommy muffles a cry at the dull burning, his hands flying to his stomach. He watches as they turn red, his breathing turning laboured. "You've done just what I wanted you to," Tommy laughs, shaking his head in disbelief. "I wanted to die, Dream. You think I had anything else to live for?" He looks up at the man, grinning. "You did just what I wanted you to do. Guess what, Dream?" Tommy smiles. "I'm going to go see my best friend. You get to bury yours."
Dream stares at him, his eyes widening for a second. He's finally realised. "You.."
"Me," Tommy agrees. "A shame you're too fuckin' stupid to see through a kid's plans, huh, big man?"
"You.." Dream's voice is filled with more rage than Tommy has ever heard in his entire life. "You son of a fucking bitch!" Dream screams, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt. "You motherfucker, you- you-"
Tommy closes his eyes, Dream's voice fading out of his ears. He's got no reason to hang on anymore, so he doesn't. He focuses on the numb feeling in his chest, reaching out and grabbing that, dragging himself along until he reaches it. Suddenly, he feels nothing but agony. Pain washes over him, a buzzing noise ringing in his ears, filling his head. The pain is nearly unbearable, strangling him and choking him and Tommy screams and-
"Shh," Tubbo murmurs, and Tommy feels the pain wash away, the buzzing in his ears fade. "Welcome to the afterlife, big man," Tommy opens his eyes, looking up at his friend. He's grinning like a madman, nothing but happiness shining in his eyes. He's got a little cross over his chest, where the arrow had hit him. Tommy looks down, seeing the same glowing cross on his stomach, where Dream had stabbed him. "How're you feeling?"
"Like death," Tommy groans, reaching up to clutch his head. Everything is spinning around him, but at least the pain is gone. "I feel bad, for uh.." he squeezes his eyes shut, shaking his head. "Killing George and Sapnap. I shouldn't have done that."
Tubbo makes a noise from the back of his throat, one that sounds like agreement. "You shouldn't have," he agrees. "But it's too late now. So," Tubbo smiles, and Tommy barely notices the clear wings that protrude from behind him. His horns don't look like those of a ram anymore, more like an elk. They branch up, though they're see through as well. "Welcome home, Tommy. It's sort of like L'manberg," Tubbo laughs. "It was sort of lonely without you, but.." he shrugs. "I figured you'd come to say hi."
Tommy rolls his eyes, taking Tubbo's hand when he offers it. "What, you thought I'd die?" Tubbo raises an eyebrow at him. "Dumb question," Tommy mutters, glancing away. "I..are they here?" Tubbo smiles.
"Everyone's here," he motions forwards, and he can see Sapnap and George sitting on a bench that keeps fading in and out of reality, talking and laughing. He looks to the side, spotting Wilbur and Schlatt. He feels his heart drop when he sees the horned man, but Tubbo just keeps smiling. "Wilbur's form of Ghostbur isn't real. It was just how he coped," Tubbo explains. "And all that blue, well," he ducks his head. "You remember Friend the sheep, right?"
Tommy feels his eyes widen. "You're fucking kiddin' me. Schlatt?"
"Yeah!" Tubbo laughs. "They both remember everything. For the most part, though, Wilbur sticks around down there," he motions to something Tommy can't see. "Oh, you can't..huh. Neither can Schlatt. I guess that some of us can go back to the world, maybe because we've got unfinished business? I'm not sure. But sometimes he'll come back up here to talk to Schlatt. He's a lot nicer when he's not constantly drunk, you know?"
Tommy smiles. "I guess? I..I missed you, Tubbo. I know it was only like, a month, maybe, but..you know. I still missed you." Tubbo smiles back at him, his eyes soft.
"I missed you too, Tommy. But now.." he grins, throwing his arms out. "We've got an eternity, right?"
"Right," Tommy grins. "An eternity with you doesn't sound all that bad, I'd say."
"Good," Tubbo beams. "'Cause you really don't have much of a choice, either."
Tommy doesn't think that's bad at all. He smiles as he follows Tubbo, listening to his best friend talk about the afterlife and bees and farming and everything that makes him happy. Tommy isn't quite sure how he managed to live without him as long as he did, but now, he thinks, now he doesn't have to live without him ever again.