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Goodbye, Theseus

Summary:

“Sorry, Mr. President,” Dream’s voice managed to still drip with sarcasm despite the fact he was wheezing. “Oh, wait-” He burst into another round of hysterics, this time much louder than the muted shaking.

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After the destruction of New L'Manburg, Tommy and Tubbo set out to kill Dream once and for all.

Notes:

I'm devastated, so here is what my brain manifested after thinking about Tommy and Tubbo hunting down Dream after the Doomsday War.

Work Text:

Tommy kicked his legs out weakly, straining to touch land. The sea roared with blood lust as it threw its fists against the jagged rocks below him. He hands ached and shook, knuckles white and bloodless, nails tearing away from his fingertips. He continued to hold on with the rabid intensity of an animal.

 

The arm he grasped, the person he grasped, seemed unbothered. Dream just continued staring at him through a mask with its impossibly wide smile and beady eyes. Tommy tried to glance at Tubbo, on his knees and clutching his red, wet side, but his gaze didn’t stay on him for long. He only had eyes for Dream-the only thing keeping him from plummeting to his death.

 

“Goodbye, Theseus,” Dream announced to the salty air. Tommy’s breath caught in his throat and Dream’s hand on his shirt loosened. 

 

Tommy’s stomach dropped and something burst in him. Instead of gripping Dream’s arm, his hands started to desperately claw at it, scrabbling for any way he could pull himself back onto solid ground. He started screaming frantically with hoarse shouts of “ Please ” in between, begging, crying Dream’s name.

 

Dream’s grip loosened more.

 

Tommy squeezed his eyes shut as his body left his control. He couldn’t form even a “please” anymore, just incoherent screams, just sounds. His body spasmed and kicked out, his hands clawed and dug into skin, drawing out dribbles of blood. Just as Dream started to let go more, just as Tommy’s mind was about to drift out of his body, he was moving.

 

He shrieked, sure he was falling, until he stopped moving and realized that Dream had yanked him close, holding him up tightly with two hands now. Tommy’s voice left him as he stared at Dream with eyes so wide it felt as if his skin was peeling back.

 

“Say you’re sorry,” Dream whispered.

 

“I-wha-”

 

“Say you’re sorry,” Dream repeated, shaking him a bit.

 

Tommy continued staring, breath scraping out of his throat in ragged gasps and pants. His ears rang, filling up his senses. Unconsciously, his hands loosened around Dream’s arms so that his nails no longer stabbed into him.

 

Dream shook him again, “Say it.”

 

“I-I’m-I’m so-sorry-I’m sorry-I’m sorry,” Tommy stuttered out. His eyes burned with a new round of tears when Dream shook him. He continued. “I’m sorry for trying to hunt you down. I-I’m sorry for trying to save L’manberg. I’m sorry for hiding from you. I’m sorry for breaking the exile rules. I’m sorry for leaving you. I’m sorry for burning down George’s house.” His mind fed his mouth a list of all his wrongdoings towards Dream. He spat it out obediently. 

 

“I’m sorry for wanting to be independent from the Dream SMP.” His eyes flickered to Tubbo. Tubbo, who had pulled himself up against a tree. Tubbo glanced back at him, eyes full of the heat of a million fireworks. “I’m sorry for never listening to you.” Tommy looked back at Dream. “I’m sorry for never being obedient. And-and I’m sorry you’re such a bitch .”

 

Tubbo threw himself at Dream and then Tommy was falling. He was falling forward, on top of Dream, on top of land.

 

He was caught into a tangle of limbs, the three of them wrestling each other into the dirt. There were hands, elbows, fists, feet, nails hitting and grabbing at anything in the furious confusion. 

 

Tommy pulled himself up onto his knees. He looked to Tubbo and saw that they were both pinning one of Dream’s wrists down. They slowly smiled at each other, huffing out breaths of relief. The two looked down at Dream again to see him shaking, trembling. He was gasping silently, sucking in air greedily. He finally caught his breath only to let out a sound that led him into another round of gasps. He was laughing .

 

“Stop that,” Tubbo ordered, voice almost weak with anger. 

 

“Sorry, Mr. President ,” Dream’s voice managed to still drip with sarcasm despite the fact he was wheezing. “Oh, wait-” He burst into another round of hysterics, this time much louder than the muted shaking.

 

“It’s not funny!” Tommy snarled, letting his nails dig into Dream’s scratched and bruised wrist, this time with the intent to hurt.

 

“But it is,” Dream crowed, throwing his head back. “It’s so funny. You’re funny.”

 

“You won’t be laughing when we put an end to you.”

 

“Come and get me then.” Dream suddenly wrenched his arm out of Tubbo’s shaking grip and slammed his elbow into Tubbo’s nose. Tommy and Tubbo cried out in unison at the burst of blood. Tommy reached out to help his friend, and Dream took the opportunity to grab Tommy’s head with his freed hand and smash it into the ground. He grabbed flint and steel from his pocket.

 

A burst of flame roared to life. Tommy and Tubbo didn’t see Dream running away, too consumed by the memories of fire tearing apart their home again, and again, and again, and-

 

“There,” Tommy snarled, stamping out the last of the glowing embers. He turned to Tubbo, who was clutching his stomach and staring at the burnt grass. His gaze snapped up to his friend and accepted the hand offered with a small grunt, reminded of the oozing cut in his side.

 

Tommy’s eyebrows scrunched at Tubbo’s condition and he let him lean heavily against him. “We’ll get him, Tubbo,” he promised.

 

Tubbo didn’t look back at him, though. He instead stared blankly out at the sea’s salty calls for blood. “Yeah.”