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awesamdude looks at tommyinnit, and he sees a traumatized child struggling to make it in a world that set him up to fail. he sees someone who may be a little brash, rude at times, but making an effort to change for the better—which is more than he can say for most people.
when tommy comes to him talking about a hotel, sam knows there's no way he can say no to him. all he can think about are the things dream has told him about tommy's exile, and how tommy must not want anyone else to feel so homeless and helpless and alone as he did.
the only problem lies in the fact that sam doesn't have the time he needs to prepare. as much as he might want to, he can’t afford to dedicate that much effort to collecting materials, not on top of dealing with the egg.
he sees tommy's animal crossing discs, how fond he is of playing them, and gets an idea.
thus sam nook is born, and all the tasks that come with him. it makes tommy happy, sam thinks—safe, secure, in the familiarity of animal crossing. the tasks are nothing too difficult, but enough to keep his mind off other things.
tommy was trembling, the first time he visited dream.
he's just a child. sam doesn't understand how the others can't see that.
things go wrong very quickly. he's not sure when, exactly, but it comes to a head when he's mining in the nether and turns to find tommyinnit standing there.
“what are you doing to sam nook?” tommy starts out, not a greeting to his name, and his tone is harsh, angry—panicked, betrayed.
"what?" sam files the netherite in his hand into his inventory to focus on tommy. when his tone comes out soft and unassuming, it’s very purposeful; he doesn't want to scare or upset the child further. “i don't know what you're talking about.”
tommy flinches back. the pit in sam's stomach grows to an aching chasm, and he wonders what he did, where things started going downhill.
“no—no you can't—don’t lie to me—”
sam notices for the first time that tommy has a sword, gripped tightly in both hands. it’s held out in front of him as he shifts into a fighting stance.
“i know—i know you did something,” tommy continues. “it’s—he didn’t do anything, he didn’t mean to—if it’s anyone’s fault it’s probably mine.” the sword slips from his grasp, and he adjusts his grip before continuing. “please be upset at me if you’re gonna be upset at anyone, he—he doesn’t deserve—you can just do it to me instead. if you—if you hurt him, i’ll fight you.”
the poor child is shaking, trembling so hard it's a wonder he can stand. sam wants nothing more than to pull him into a hug and tell him everything's alright, but when he moves forward, tommy jolts back. his gaze flickers to the axe in sam's hand.
sam sets the axe down, careful not to make any sudden movements. “tommy, whatever you think i’m doing—i’m not. i would never hurt anyone, especially not you, and not sam nook.”
tommy's lip wobbles, and when he blinks, a few tears run down his cheeks. “but—but—sam nook said you would be upset at him because—if he left the construction site."
sam doesn't know how to respond to that. doesn’t know to even begin to process how fucked-up that is.
"tommy… there's a difference between being upset and being abusive."
by the way tommy shifts from foot to foot, brows furrowing, it's clear he doesn't understand what sam means, and that upsets him more than anything.
“listen… in my time at the prison, dream"—and, oh, he doesn't miss the flinch at that name—“has told me a bit about your time in exile. you have to understand that nothing he did to you was okay. if for some reason sam nook didn’t follow my directions, i may be upset, but i would never hurt him.”
“i don’t believe you,” tommy says, but his grip on his sword falters, the tip hitting the ground. he says it like it's a challenge; like he wants sam to prove him wrong.
"that's okay. you've been through so much already, i don't expect you to be completely fine. but i'm not going to hurt you or sam nook or anyone, i swear on fran. listen to me, tommyinnit—nothing, absolutely nothing, that dream did to you was normal or okay, and i'd rather die than let him anywhere near you. if there's anything i can do to make you feel more comfortable, just let me know, okay?"
a sword hits the ground with a clatter as a sob breaks out of tommy.
"you're really not gonna hurt sam nook?"
his voice is so small.
"never."
and tommy stumbles a few steps forward before falling apart. he's crying openly now, collapsed onto the ground, curled into himself and arms wrapped around his side. his forehead rests against the ground. when sam creeps forward to rub circles on his back, he barely flinches.
“why am i so fucked up, sam?” he asks, crying so hard he’s barely breathing. “i just wanna be okay, why can’t i be okay?”
sam just sits beside him, holding back his own tears. he wishes he could make everything better with just a hug and a few soft words, but it doesn’t work like that, and healing is going to take a lot of work. “you’re alright,” he says, “you’re alright. you may not have been, and you may not always be in the future, but you’re okay now. we can fix this together. just breathe, kiddo. you’re alright.”
“why was i—why was i so sure he—i didn’t—he doesn’t deserve that—i didn’t want—why was i so sure you were hurting him, sam? i’m just so—so fucked up in the head.”
scooping tommy up, sam pulls him into a hug. tommy’s nails dig into his back slightly as he hugs him back. “you’ve been hurt so much you don’t know how to expect anything else. that’s okay. if you ever have a problem like this again, just come and talk to me, okay? you can bring your tubbo, or quackity, or anyone else with you, if it makes you feel safer. okay?”
“okay,” tommy mumbles. he sounds exhausted now, melted into sam.
they stay that way for awhile, clinging to each other.
"can we go see sam nook? i wanna—i dunno.”
sam could never say no to him. “sure, tommy. let’s go.”
then, pulling back, sam stands up, offering tommy a hand. there’s a smudge of dirt on tommy’s forehead, and when sam reaches out to brush it off, tommy doesn’t flinch—just stares at him with a vulnerable expression before letting out another sob and wiping his eyes.
he's just a kid.
“HELLO AGAIN TOMMYINNIT… YOU LOOK UPSET… WOULD YOU LIKE A HUG?”
and, in this moment, everything’s alright.